#your best friend rights got REVOKED | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

strawchocoberry · 11 months

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IN MY DREAMS, I DO ANYTHING I WANT TO YOU

special thanks to @fanouropita for contributing to this work

୨୧ featuring: kaeya + thoma, zhongli + xiao, ayato + diluc, tartaglia + baizhu x fem reader

ଘ tw: blood (tartaglia and baizhu’s part)

ଘ cw: smut, threesome, nipple play, oral sex, fingering, anal sex, double penetration, praise kink, degradation kink, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, creampie, rough sex, choking, breeding kink, public sex, voyeurism

୨୧ synopsis: the only thing better than one man is two

ଘ wc: 6.1k

ʚ KAEYA & THOMA ɞ

“You should have told me you were coming to Mondstadt!” you complained, taking the food out of the oven. “I didn’t have time to prepare anything!”

“Haha, don’t worry!” Thoma laughed, while decorating his plate. “I wanted to surprise you! See, I even made your favourite Inazuman recipe.”

“Now you’re making me look like a poor host.”

Thoma laughed, as you went to answer the door.

“Hope I’m not too late for the reunion.”

“I could never say ‘no’ to my boss,” you chuckled, taking a step aside. “Come in, Kaeya.”

Kaeya and Thoma exchanged greetings and the three of you sat around the table. You had so much to talk about. The three of you were childhood friends and shared a dream of entering the ranks of the Knights of Favonius. Due to circumstances, only you and Kaeya made it, while Thoma was now working for the Kamisato Clan in Inazuma. Ever since the Sakoku Decree had been introduced, your communications with your dear friend were cut short. But now that it has been revoked, you come and go between the two nations taking turns visiting one another.

“Oh right!” Thoma exclaimed. He stood up and went to his luggage, searching for something inside. “I brought you souvenirs!” He happily turned to the two of you. “This is one of the best sake in Inazuma. Master Ayato believes it will be to your liking, Kaeya.”

“I will make sure to thank him next time I visit Inazuma.” He joyfully took the bottle.

“And this one’s for you.”

Taking the rectangle wooden box from his hands, you opened it and gasped at the beautiful hair piece ornament inside.

“Milady helped me decide on the colour since I was kind of indecisive…” Thoma nervously confessed.

“I love it!” you excitedly replied. “I’ll help you choose Ayaka’s gift when we go shopping.”

The merry atmosphere was filled with lively conversations. Thoma recounted his latest visit to the Grand Narukami Shrine where he had the pleasure — or the misfortune, as he emphasised — to stumble upon Lady Miko. And then, you narrated the incident of your latest mission with the Cavalry Captain.

“He used me as bait to lure all those monsters and then refused to help me, because apparently I had got rusty! Can you believe it? I had to literally beg him to come save me!” You threw a death glare towards Kaeya, who innocently drank his wine.

“Ah, yes, Kaeya is known for his teasing nature.”

“Do you really believe that I would have let those monsters tear you apart?” Kaeya asked you, hand over his broken heart. “I would never!”

You simply rolled your eyes and took a bite of your food.

“Thoma, your cup is still full,” Kaeya noticed. “Won’t you drink?”

“Ahaha… You know I’m not really fond of alcohol.”

“All I’m asking for is one drink,” he stated, lifting his index. “Are you really going to refuse one drink from your fellow Mondstadter friend?”

“You’re not going to give up, will you?” Thoma whined a sigh. “Alright…”

Since Thoma’s tolerance for alcohol is zero to none, he got drunk after only one drink. Kaeya seemed pleased with treating his friend like a little toy for his own entertainment. And you hopelessly tried to maintain a balance between a drunk Thoma and a lightheaded Kaeya.

“Can I do your hair?” Thoma asked you out of the blue. “I wanna see you wearing the ornament I bought you.”

You didn’t see anything wrong with his request, so you sat comfortably in your seat, while he styled your hair. Kaeya’s gaze was locked on the two of you, following Thoma’s every move.

“It looks so beautiful on you.” Thoma whispered in your ear.

Your body jolted at the sudden proximity. His breath was fanning your neck, giving rise to your body temperature. Kaeya stood up from his seat and came to stand behind you.

“You look gorgeous, sweets.”

A soft moan escaped your lips as the two of them started peppering both sides of your neck with kisses. Their hands started roaming your body. Thoma slipped inside your shirt and fondled your breasts in your bra, playing with your nipples. Kaeya rubbed his fingers on your clothed cunt, chuckling at your wetness. Removing your shirt and bra, Thoma sucked one of your nipples, teasingly lollying it with his tongue, while pinching your other one. Kaeya was left astonished at how quickly your panties became drenched.

“Will you give us a hand, sweetheart?” he cooed, as he placed your hand on his hardened cock.

Thoma was in a similar state. You watched them getting undressed, feasted your eyes on their naked bodies, before you fell on your knees with each at either side of you. You gave kitten licks to both of them, while pumping their cocks simultaneously. You gave Thoma a lick from the bottom of his shaft and licked the tip, taking him in your mouth. Your tongue swirled around him, earning a few moans from the blond, cheeks flushed red. You then turned towards Kaeya, who seemed a little irritated by not having taken priority. And yet, he couldn’t help but groan at you teasingly licking over the vein of his cock.

You staggered between them; one moment your lips were wrapped around them and the next your hand was pumping them, spreading their precum all over their tips. Stopping you, your eyes hungrily took them in as they jerked themselves off, ejaculating all over your pretty titties. Thoma pulled you up and attacked your lips, starved to taste yours. Removing your skirt and panties, Kaeya had you sit on the chair and spread your legs. He knelt in-between and left bite marks on your inner thighs, making you whine in your kiss with Thoma. He picked up a valberry from your sparkling berry juice and put it in his mouth, then passed it on to you through a kiss. The sweet taste of the valberry in contrast to his taste of sake had you losing yourself in their touches.

You meowled in Thoma’s lips, as Kaeya licked a few long strides on your cunt. He focused his lips on sucking your clit, while he slid two fingers inside your hole. You were barely able to hold your legs open, so each held one of them. “So pretty…” Thoma whispered, leaving a trail of kisses on your upper chest. Your moans and whimpers were enough to make them hard again. You screamed when Kaeya entered a finger in your ass hole, Thoma now having taken over his work in your pussy. Kaeya’s hand reached up and cupped your breast, squeezing tightly.

When you were loosened enough, Thoma took your seat on the chair, while he made you comfortable on his lap. He immersed his cock slowly in your ass, both of them holding you tightly as you tried to get away because of the pain his tip caused you. They showered you with kisses and comforting words, helping ease the situation, until Thoma finally bottomed out. Your head fell heavy on his flushed chest, your voice breaking as Kaeya dived into your cunt, stretching against Thoma.

“Someone is eager to get railed by both of us,” Kaeya teased, thrusting into you, enjoying how your cunt tightened around him.

“If you wanted this, you should have asked, honey.” Thoma kissed your neck.

Your mind had gone blank by them fucking both your holes. It hurt, but it was a pleasant kind of pain. Thoma was gentle as he thrusted in you, using just the right amount of force, while tenderly running his fingers on your skin and drawing soothing lines, whispering praises in your ears. Kaeya, however, was more erratic, more forceful in his movements, pointing out how well you were taking them, his lips attacking your neck and leaving hickeys all over. You were moaning and whining, blessing their ears with your melodic sounds. You were lost in a trance, as your orgasm hit you, your body shivering in-between them, as they thrusted in your holes, chasing after their own releases.

ʚ ZHONGLI & XIAO ɞ

“Mortals these days sure act in a bizarre way,” Xiao stated, taking a bite of his almond tofu.

“What new human custom did you encounter this time?” Zhongli asked him.

“I can explain it to you.” You warmly smiled.

“I was returning to Wangshu Inn after having extinguished the remnants of a defeated god, when I fell upon two humans.” Xiao paused. You noticed how his cheeks flushed red, a rare sight you thought you’d never have the chance to see in your life. And neither did the former Geo Archon. “They were naked in the woods…” Xiao then turned to look at you. “What kind of ritual were they performing in such an indecent way?”

You were lost for words. Xiao wasn’t particularly — if not at all — interested in the affairs of the mortals. You knew that very well. However, he seemed more willing to involve himself and learn a few things from you. At first, when Zhongli introduced you, the adeptus was weary of you. He didn’t deem you as a threat, on the contrary he was afraid that the karmic debt he carried might taint your soul, which ultimately proved to be more resilient than he had expected. Of all the peculiar things humans do that could pique Xiao’s interest, sex was the last one you would have considered.

“What you saw was two humans engaging in sexual intercourse,” Zhongli took over the explanation of the “bizarre ritual”, since you were too shocked to reply. “In other words, it is an act performed for a variety of reasons; pleasure, portrayal of love, reproduction.”

Xiao needed a moment to take in this “valuable” information. How can that be something pleasurable? he wondered. He had fled the scene almost immediately, too stunned from this unusual spectacle, but he was certain that he had heard screams. That was the primal reason he had strayed from his path, as he had thought that mortals might have encountered monsters and needed help.

“What are you thinking, Xiao?”

“Eh?” he responded. “Oh… It just doesn’t make sense to me…”

Zhongli deviously curled his lips into a smile. “Maybe it’s because you haven’t experienced it,” he pointed out. “But I’m sure this can be resolved if you’re interested.”

Turning your head towards him, you noticed Zhongli looking at you with suggestive eyes. You gulped realising what he was proposing. Then, you averted your attention towards Xiao, who seemed lost in thought.

“I wouldn’t mind…” he admitted flustered a while later.

Zhongli caught your hand and had you sit on his lap, his one hand caressing your ass, while the other cupped gently your cheek. “Pay attention, Xiao. You want to start things slow,” he explained, kissing your lips. “You need to get your partner in a certain mood. That is achieved by kissing and touching their body,” he continued, his lips now leaving kisses on your neck.

Xiao’s eyes were stuck on the two of you, taking in all the changes of expressions on your face. Zhongli removed your shirt and kissed your upper chest, having you tighten your grip on his shoulders, your head falling back. He lifted you up and carried you to Xiao’s bed, while he slipped his tongue in your mouth, subduing yours in a little game of dominance. He urged Xiao to sit behind you, then turned you over to him; “Try it,” he encouraged him.

The adeptus was hesitant in his movements, as he trod on uncharted waters. For the first time in his long life, he seemed to experience hesitation, in contrast to his usual storming into battle without a second thought. His lips softly touched yours, as he tried to mimic Zhongli’s actions. He caressed your arms with his fingertips all the way to your cheeks, sending shivers down your spine. He then nestled his head in the crook of your neck, kissing your soft skin and biting without quite realising it.

Zhongli, who was still sitting behind you, removed your bra, leaving a little peck on the back of your shoulder. Xiao fondled your titties, massaging them and feeling your nipples hardening underneath his palms. Moving lower, he left kisses all over the same area as Zhongli. He sucked one of your nipples, enjoying the way it felt on his tongue as he swirled it all over it. Your chest was rising and falling hard and soft moans escaped your lips.

You gasped as Zhongli slid his hand inside your pants, two of his fingers teasingly circling around your cunt. “Xiao, remove her remaining clothes,” he led him to his next action. Xiao was left astonished at your cunt sucking in Zhongli’s fingers, the squelching sound of it ringing in his ears. “You need to thrust your fingers like this,” the Geo Archon instructed. “It makes her a bubbling mess,” he elaborated, biting your ear. Of course, he knew all about it, since he knew everything about you.

Xiao replaced him, doing exactly as he was shown. His fingers slipped inside you with ease, the wetness and warmth of your cunt encouraging him to continue. Your walls welcomed his fingers with pleasure, providing all the necessary hospitality to enchant him into staying forever. Your body started trembling, as you were reaching your orgasm, which made Xiao worry, looking up at Zhongli for some kind of advice. “Keep your pace steady, she’s almost there,” he shared his knowledge. Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, as a wave of ecstasy washed over you.

You panted hard, resting your head on Zhongli’s shoulder. Your eyes wandered Xiao’s figure, as he curiously licked his fingers that were coated with your slick, then smiled at the sweet taste. Zhongli tapped your thigh, motioning you towards the adeptus. You stood on your knees and gently kissed Xiao’s lips, while slowly undressing him. You kissed your way from his lips to his hardened cock that begged to be pampered. You took him in your hand and pumped him, rubbing circles on the tip, which had the fearsome yaksha whimper. “W-Wait—”

His breath hitched, feeling your lips envelope him. You looked up at him who was following your every move, having the back of his hand pressed against his mouth to muffle his moans. You were twirling your tongue around his shaft, showering him with a newfound sensation. Zhongli could only silently watch you, having now taken a seat on the edge of the bed and poured himself a cup of Osmanthus wine, which he gulped down in one go. The adeptus’ soft whimpers and moans encouraged you to open the door to a new world for him, a breathless groan accompanying his release in your mouth.

You took a moment to catch your breaths, before Xiao kissed your lips again. He lay you down on your back, while he hovered on top of you. “Gently push yourself inside of her,” Zhongli instructed him. “Gently,” he emphasised. “Human penises are much smaller than ours.” Xiao kept his eyes locked in yours, as he slowly dived his cock in your drenched cunt. You felt a slight feeling of discomfort due to his size and thickness, which he attempted to distract you from by kissing you.

When you had adjusted to him, you urged him to move. His first thrusts were shallow, slow and hesitant. But when your walls tightened around him, squeezing him pleasurably, he couldn’t help but pick up his pace, feeling now more confident. Your moans mixed with one another’s, creating a harmonic melody. Your head turned to the back and you noticed Zhongli sitting there, jerking himself off, which turned you on even more. “Don’t look at me. Focus on him,” he advised you.

With minimal effort, the Conqueror of Demons was rearranging your inner world, sending you over to the heavens. Xiao was sucking on your neck and making you cream all over his cock with every thrust. It was hard for you to believe that this was his first time. Your moans prompted him to shower you with pleasure, so as to hear your sweet voice a little longer. He was reaching deep inside you, practically forcing the air out of your body, leaving you breathless. Your body spasmed as you orgasmed on his cock and he fucked you through it, before pulling out and releasing on your stomach, breathlessly thanking you.

ʚ AYATO & DILUC ɞ

You were silently sitting in the corner of Ayato’s office in the Kamisato residence, as the Yashiro Commissioner was talking about business with the Master of the Dawn Winery, Diluc Ragnvindr. The two had started doing business together a little after Thoma had returned from his first trip to Monstandt after the revocation of the Sakoku Decree. Ayato had visited the Dawn Winery to inspect if there could be some profit in a business partnership and was pleased with the results. The Yashiro Commission became the official importer and distributor of the Dawn Winery’s products, which became quite popular in Inazuma.

“I apologise for the delay of the delivery,” Diluc stated. “We were met with a horrendous thunderstorm on our way.”

“There is no need to worry.” Ayato politely smiled. “The wine will be delivered to the city within the day. I encourage you to go and take a look. The Summer Festival is one of our biggest festivals.”

“If time permits it, I’ll take a stroll around,” Diluc replied. “Oh, right. I almost forgot. I brought a few bottles of your favourite wine, Mr. Kamisato. I’ll go and bring them.”

“No need!” you stopped him, standing up. “You two can continue your conversation and I’ll go bring Mr. Ragnvindr’s present.”

“Just ask any of my employees and they’ll give it to you.”

Walking out of the office, you noticed Ayaka and Thoma waiting for you outside the door with eyes starved from exhilaration. You sighed and ignored them, walking towards the porch. But as expected, the two of them did not fret and followed you.

“How are you feeling now seeing Mr. Ragnvindr after four months?” Ayaka eagerly asked.

“I don’t understand your question, Milady,” you feigned ignorance.

“Don’t play dumb!” Thoma laughed. “We all know that you have a crush on him. Master Ayato even went out of his way and ordered that magnificent kimono for you to wear to the festival. He said and I quote ‘This would surely catch Mr. Ragnvindr’s attention’.”

“Master Ayato knows?” you gasped, then quickly covered your mouth with your hands.

“So, you admit it!” Ayaka teasingly nuzzled your side with her elbow. “Of course my brother knows about it! He always keeps his eyes out for the people closest to him.”

If only you knew about his dark side, Milady. You mentally sighed. You have been working as the Yashiro Commission’s Secretary for a long time now. Unknown to the public, you’re also involved with the Shuumatsuban as Ayato’s right hand. One of his first orders to you was not to involve Ayaka in any shady work they mingle in. You respected Ayato for trying to keep his younger sister out of harm’s way. And as his right hand, the two of you had spent countless nights working overtime or helping each other relieve some steam.

“Um, excuse me.” You tapped on an employee’s shoulder. As soon as you mentioned it, they gave you Diluc’s package for the Yashiro Commissioner. Thanking them, you returned to the office and resumed your previous position. You were sitting there, stealing glances of the Dawn Winery’s Master, feeling your heart beating fast in your chest. You locked eyes with him a few times. You were aware that given your position — and especially your involvement with the Shuumatsuban — it wouldn’t be possible for anything to happen between the two of you. And yet, you just couldn’t control yourself from longing for him.

“Are you sure you wish to stay here?” Ayato asked.

“I’m not feeling like attending a festival right now,” Diluc replied. “What about you, Mr. Kamisato? Shouldn’t you attend as you’re the Yashiro Commissioner?”

“Ayaka, my younger sister, is the one attending the social events. I would like to take this moment and rest a little.”

Night had fallen and the two business partners were enjoying a drink on the porch. The Kamisato Estate was serene and peaceful, since all the servants and guards had been dismissed for the night to enjoy the Summer Festival with their loved ones. You, however, were still there, attending to their needs.

“This kimono is so beautiful,” Diluc complimented you.

“Thank you.” You shyly smiled.

Ayato cunningly smirked, as he raised his cup to his lips, only to realise that it was empty. You choked a laugh, earning one of Ayato’s judgemental gazes, before standing up to go bring another bottle of wine. As you were returning, you tripped and fell on the wooden floor. Raising your head, you noticed the two of them looking at you with lustful eyes.

“Look what mess you made, dear,” Ayato sinisterly smirked.

You bit your lip nervously, observing the wine that had been spilt on Diluc’s shirt and Ayato’s pants. “I-I-I’m sorry!” you immediately apologised, flustered at your mistake. “I’ll go fetch you some dry clothes right—”

As you rushed to head inside, Ayato caught your arm and pulled you to him, your head colliding with his chest. “I have another idea in mind,” he breathed in your neck. You curiously looked at him, not quite understanding what his enigmatic suggestion meant. You twitched, feeling someone pulling your hair to the side and kissing your neck. It was Diluc, who was now standing behind you. You tried to say something, only for him to capture your lips in a fiery kiss.

Ayato rid you of your kimono, leaving you naked under the moonlight. He lay down, his head resting on the pillow, as he had you lie above him. He kissed gently your inner thighs, before locking his lips on your cunt. You moaned at his tongue licking your velvet folds. Ayato slapped your ass, having you bite back another moan. “Don’t just sit there. This isn’t for your entertainment, dear,” he explained. Discarding his pants, you squeezed his shaft, moving from the base to the tip at a slow tempo.

Him groaning in your pussy as you licked kitten licks all over him made you choke on literal air. You knew that this was his way of punishing you for soaking his pants with wine, even so you weren’t going to accept this so easily. You peppered his base with kisses, while your thumb worked on his tip, massaging it and coating it with his precum. Your breath hitched, feeling a gentle caress on your waist. Diluc kissed your back, making you arch at his soft lips, your skin burning wherever he touched you.

His tongue penetrated your ass hole, drenching it wet and loosening it. Diluc licked two of his fingers, before pushing them inside, pumping slowly to properly prepare you for what’s to come. You were stimulated simultaneously on both holes, resulting in a poor performance on your behalf as you couldn’t concentrate suitably on your own task. Ayato was taking note of that, as he would surely make you regret it later. For the time being, he was holding tightly onto your legs, preventing you from crushing his head, as he thrusted his tongue in your drenched cunt.

When you were all perfectly ready, Diluc unbuckled his pants and stroked his hard cock a few times, before slowly pushing himself in your hole. You found it difficult to keep yourself from crushing with Ayato’s thigh. Your titties were grazing his abdomen, as your body rhythmically moved in Diluc’s tempo, making him hard. You were close to your climax, which made you impatient. Your mind was stuck on the stretch of Diluc’s cock in your ass and on Ayato’s wicked tongue that abused your cunt. Diluc was the first to reach his orgasm, pulling back and ejaculating all over your ass.

As you had almost completely neglected him, Ayato didn’t give you the pleasure of letting you orgasm. You whined at his cruelty, only for him to grab your throat and crush your lips on his, devilish eyes observing you melting in his touch. He manhandled you into your hands and knees, positioning himself between your legs. His throbbing cock that was starved for touch teasingly rubbed your cunt, spreading your slick around your hole. Ayato shoved his cock in you, forcing the air out of your lungs, making tears well up in your eyes from his forceful thrusts.

Diluc couldn’t help but pump his cock in his hand, seeing your fucked out expression, as Ayato ravaged your cunt. Your lips were parted oh so beautifully that he couldn’t resist the temptation of sliding himself in your mouth. You gladly accepted him, your tongue swirling around his length, making his eyes roll to the back of his skull. “...Fuck— You feel so good, sucking me off like that…” he breathed heavily. Ayato’s sharp movements had you moaning, sending vibrations on his cock.

And here you are again, on the verge of ecstasy, mentally begging that Ayato won’t deny your orgasm again. Your eyes widened, as the two men cummed at the same time, one in your mouth, the other in your cunt. “This is your punishment for brushing me off earlier,” Ayato whispered in your ear, his hand holding delicately your throat as you swallowed Diluc’s cum. He kissed your shoulder, chuckling at your whine as he dragged himself out of your cunt, some of his cum spilling out.

ʚ TARTAGLIA & BAIZHU ɞ

“This place is pretty dead… By which I mean, there’s nothing to kill.” That’s what he said, leaning back on his seat, disappointed by the placidity of time. Tartaglia had been cooped up in the Northland Bank, not having anything in particular to do. He would always whine about how bored he was to you, always nagging you to go somewhere and stir up some trouble, just for the fun of it. So, when Andrei informed him of a well-known Liyue merchant’s outrageous debt to the bank, Tartaglia took it upon himself to pay a little visit to the merchant. And of course, you followed him, thinking that things couldn’t go bad.

However, when the two of you cornered the merchant and demanded the debt to be paid in full, you noticed how Tartaglia’s eyes glowed with fervent exhilaration at the appearance of the merchant’s bodyguards. “Stay behind me.” He protectively placed you behind him; not that you really needed to be protected. He knew that you were more than capable of protecting yourself, having sparred with him multiple times. And yet he couldn’t help but want to show off in front of you. Not to mention that he was itching for some kind of fight.

You spared yourself the trouble of having to deal with mongrels and just sat back and watched. Despite your initial estimation of the bodyguards’ strength, Tartaglia easily handled them. Maybe you had overestimated them. Or maybe your boss was a tiny bit arrogant while fighting them, as he left himself open, only for a moment, giving the chance to one of them to graze his right arm with his sword. You immediately called for backup and then rushed to his side, but he refused your help. In the end, he beat them up and had his subordinates deal with the rest.

“Let me see your arm,” you demanded. Lifting his arm, you observed the wound; it wasn’t too deep, but it clearly indicated that he hadn’t taken his opponents seriously, deeming them as trivial third-rate characters.

“It’s nothing serious, you don’t need to worry,” Tartaglia laughed.

“You need to have this checked right now! It might get an infection.”

“Aren’t you being a little dramatic right now?” he asked you, removing a strand of hair from your face. “It’s nothing. Really! It doesn’t even hurt.”

Your gaze said it all; you weren’t going to listen to a word he said. On the contrary, Tartaglia would be the one heeding to your orders. He sighed deeply, thinking that he still had a long way to go, before he could ever dream of winning a fight of nerves against you. He still thought that it wasn’t as big of a deal as you made it to be, yet he was willing to obey and go along with you, because he knew that deep down you were just worried about him. And that made him happy. Taking your hand, he rushed back to Northland Bank, impatient to have you comfort the poor injured him.

His tilted head, his quirked eyebrow and his awkward smile betrayed that he hadn’t expected you to bring him to Bubu Pharmacy. You started ascending the stairs, having him follow you, as your hands were intertwined. Tartaglia didn’t say anything about it, but he did find it a little suspicious when the two of you entered Dr. Baizhu’s room in the back of the pharmacy.

“Baizhu! Baizhu!” you called for him, as soon as you came inside. “I need your help! Tartaglia’s injured!”

“Geez, don’t make it sound as if I’m dying,” he joked. “It’s a scratch, honestly. She’s… Overreacting a little.”

“Take a seat and let me have a look,” Baizhu instructed him.

Tartaglia looked at you, then sighed and did as the doctor had asked him. Baizhu completely ripped off his ruined sleeve and started examining the wound, while you explained the situation.

“Well, the wound has slightly swelled up. Despite the fact that the assailant sliced your extensor digitorum muscle, it’s not a deep wound and it’ll heal quickly,” Baizhu diagnosed, as he stood up, going to his cabinets. “I’ll clean it, apply some ointment on it and wrap it in a bandage just to avoid any infection.” Taking what he needed, he then returned to treat the wound.

“By the way, Baizhu, where’s Changsheng?” you asked him, curiously looking around for her.

“Changsheng is currently preoccupied with Qiqi, sorting out some medicinal herbs,” he replied, while wrapping the treated wound in a bandage. “Have you been busy? I haven’t seen you a lot lately.”

“It was mostly dull bureaucratic work. This is the first time I’ve gone out in days.”

“It must have been so hard for you, you poor thing. No wonder you look so exhausted. Would you like me to prescribe you some medicine to help ease your fatigue?”

“I would appreciate it.”

Tartaglia had been observing you for a while, in his eyes there was a suspicious gleam. He had found it strange when you casually entered the back of the store, Baizhu’s living quarters, as if you were used to it. And now, something just didn’t sit right with him. Your conversation was so simple, just an exchange of concern between two friends. And yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else going on; something he wasn’t aware of.

“Are you, by any chance, seeing each other?” he interrupted your conversation.

“We’re not dating if that’s what you’re implying,” Baizhu answered his curiosity, then turned towards you, gently caressing your cheek with his hand. “We do, however, occasionally keep one another company during the lonely times of day.”

“Is that so?” Tartaglia wondered. Pulling your arm, he had you sit on his lap. “And here I thought I was your only lover,” he breathed on your neck, then bit you, making you hiss.

He wasn’t enraged, he didn’t have the right to be, since you weren’t anything official. But his whole being burnt fiercely with jealousy, thinking that the man in front of him had seen you in such an intimate manner. Dr. Baizhu is an irrefutable master of the medicinal arts; Tartaglia could never contradict this truth, even if he wanted to. However, he found it difficult to believe that the man who needed to rest after walking half a mile could ever satisfy you. Looking over at Baizhu, he smirked devilishly, as his hand wrapped around your neck, choking you.

“Tartaglia— Wha— What are you doing?!” you gasped as he unzipped your uniform.

“I thought that Dr. Baizhu and I could have a little taste of you. I am sure it’ll make me feel much better.” He bit your shoulder.

Baizhu leant on his arm, elbow on the desk, his eyes narrowing and his lips curling into a smirk, as he watched Tartaglia fondle your breasts, leaving kisses, hickeys and even bites. He menacingly chuckled at how hard you pressed your thighs together. You were enjoying this more than you were willing to admit, yet your moans betrayed you. There you were, sitting naked on Tartaglia’s lap, your head to his chest, his injured arm choking you, your legs spread open and two of his fingers thrusting into your wet cunt. And Baizhu watched every part of it.

“You like him watching you being fucked by another man, don’t you?” Tartaglia asked you, his voice laced with perilous lust. “Of course, you do. You’re so drenched that the squelching sounds of your little cunt echo throughout the room.”

His every derogatory word matched perfectly with his thrusts, making you drunk in his covetous desire. You couldn’t help yourself. You couldn’t escape him. Your mind could only think of him depriving you of oxygen, while setting your whole being aflame. You desperately searched for air, feeling as if you could die any moment now. Your mind was shutting down and your body quivered as you reached your orgasm by his vicious fingers.

Whilst still in your little imaginary world, Tartaglia carried you to the bed, pinning you on the mattress as he hovered above you. You couldn’t process the scene in front of you, dazed from your prior release. He smirked, pleased to see you looking at him with that dumb expression of yours he loved so much, as he rid himself of the unrequired clothes. Aligning himself with your cunt, he dived right in, whistling enthusiastically at how quickly your velvet walls tightened around him.

His thrusts were virulent, his poison spreading through your body and making you addicted to him. Leaning closer, he forced your head to the side, having you lock eyes with Baizhu. “Has he ever fucked you like this? Raw and dumb? Hell, does he even know that you love being treated like a whore?” Tears were falling from your eyes. His hand that was covering your mouth muffled your whines and moans. With a swift move of his, you were flipped on your stomach, Tartaglia pulling your ass up, before jerking his hips aggressively into ravaging your pulsating cunt.

Opening your eyes, through your blurry vision, you noticed Baizhu sitting in front of you, his hand stroking his hardened cock. “I apologise, my dear. You are clearly preoccupied, but I would appreciate it if you could… Help me out a little.” For some reason you couldn’t comprehend, you turned to look over your shoulder at the man abusing your pussy. Tartaglia smirked, pleased with your reaction, then nodded to you, as if he were giving you permission to tend to the other man.

Your lips enveloped his cock in a sloppy and wet paradise, having Baizhu moan at the sensation. He would ruffle your hair and gently caress your cheek with the back of his fingers with a soft smile on his face, before letting out one of the sluttiest moans you had ever heard in the entirety of Teyvat. “Just like that, dear… Oh great Archons, you’re so gorgeous…” he chanted your praises as he cummed. Your body spasmed on his cock, as Tartaglia fucked you through your orgasm. He would occasionally lean down over you and mark your shoulders with hickeys, his hickeys.

Tartaglia filled you up with his cum, making sure every wall of that cunt was coated with it. Wrapping his hand in your hair, he gave it a small tug, indicating you to stand up. Your back collided with his chest, as his hand let go of your hair and found its place back to your neck. “I guess after we’re done, I’ll need a new bandage,” he sneered, the bandage of his arm having turned slightly red due to him forcing it. “Until then, I’m going to fuck you dumb.”

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chaos0pikachu · 7 months

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nah okay, one of the best top-tier kinnporsche scenes is undoubtedly when Chay got his little gay baby heartbroken and instead of playing tear drops on his guitar like the other bl uni boys he went full on shojo heroine and dyed his hair fucking blueberry blue, snagged an off the rack sleeveless t-shirt, went out with his apparent friend group to hit up a dank busted club, choked down two glasses of lower shelf fireball and then as he's living his best-worst dancing on my own by robyn life and some rando is like hey babygirl lemme whisper in yo ear and tries to give him some off-brand ecstasy that looked more like those dissolvable tablets your parents fed you when you were 11 and tasted like ass paper when

BAM IN COMES KIM WITH THE STEEL CHAIR!! giving off "only I can call chay babygirl and my rights were revoked so your ass DEF can't call him that" energy and smacking away the discount walmart drugs pulling chay away by his goodwill tank top and Rando is like "hey I was shooting my shot!" and kim knocks that man on his ASS with the most emotion he's had the whole show bug eyed and clenched jaw like he was gonna rip old dudes throat out with his teeth pointing his finger at him like "DARE said no drugs!" while Chay's other friends in the back are like "BEYONCE???" (new york voice) b/c kim montana just kidnapped chay and almost dog walked their other friend in the middle of the club

#kinnporsche #kimchay #kim theerapanyakul #chaos pikachu speaks #pikachu's chaotic recaps

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maliland · 7 months

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RESENTMENT: PT. 1

"i gotta look her in her eyes and see she's had half of me." part two

barbie(s): e-42 miles morales & black fem reader includes: flashbacks/backstory stuff, angst, infidelity, homewrecking, & heartbreak (men being disappointments per usual) synopsis: you used to describe your experience with love as one of complexity and simplicity all at once, but after you learn what your boyfriend did at a party with another girl while you were at home and sick, your heart is left with irreparable damage and an abundance of resentment. wc: 2669 banner credz: @/cafekitsune

a/n: first fic on this ho 😓 nervous. idk if i like this so i was procrastinating.. but lmk what y’all think! 🫣 i’ll post a post a poll the end of the fic. if y’all like it then i’ll finish up the second part and post it whenever i get a chance. i haven't proof read, but i'll fix any mistakes when i do.

(nd let me ease your nerves: this is not a fic where miles cheats on reader w/ gwen. she isn’t included in or mentioned in this part or the next 😭)

unfaithfulness might as well be a disease. not one that can be contracted, but one that stems from within.

those who are unfaithful are unequivocally the weakest links. you? you've always presumed them to be snakes that were to join lucifer on earth at the very beginning of time, because they'd rather cause havoc and jeopardize how those they love perceive them rather than relish eternal peace in the clouds. had adam and eve left the forbidden fruit alone, the one thing that those unfaithful could've stayed faithful to was their identity as whispering serpents. alas, that's not how the story goes. and for the sake of free will, god decided they should reside on earth with those who know nothing but faith.

betrayal isn't limited to one kind of person. whether the relationship is romantic or platonic, anyone can smile in your face, only to turn around and drive a pre-sharpened knife right through your back when you least expect it. you're left to bleed out while you try and make sense of why it had to be you.

you've been double-crossed before, but never bad enough to the point where you needed to make a huge deal out of it. it was usually stupid stuff, like your elementary friends ratting out your genius hiding spot during hide and seek after they got found, or your mom revoking her promise to take you to the park that one day after school when you were younger. your ex-best friend from middle school spreading nasty rumors about you was far more serious than all the other instances, and it was probably the worst one until now.

you know that girls and guys alike get cheated on. you've heard stories and even seen it happen firsthand. infidelity occurs more frequently than you initially thought it did. then again, you tried not to think about it much because you were positive it would never happen to you. ever. especially not with your boyfriend, miles.

that was your first mistake—thinking you were immune.

you wanted to gauge your eyes out when your best friend video called you and showed you that photo of miles kissing another girl in a bedroom at a halloween party.

the girl you were once worried about.

❤︎₊ ⊹

when you were younger, you were in love with the idea of being in love.

many of your earliest memories consisted of your father reading you fairytales right before bed, since your mother was never around to do so. when he learned that you took a liking to stories that were more centered around love, he began to look for various fairytales pertaining to such that he could read to you. you adored how the love interests would always end up together by the end of each and every story. after enduring all the conflict getting in the way of their relationship thriving, it felt like a reward. you always felt secure knowing a happy ending was guaranteed no matter what transpired throughout the story. you liked that security, but your obsession with it inevitably flawed your perception of love itself. you grew up under the impression that love in the reality in which you reside wouldn't be all that different from the fairytales.

it hurt you when you finally discovered that that wasn't the case. in eighth grade, you had asked your crush to the winter formal. he had harshly rejected you, cracking the most heartless jokes in addition, in attempt to impress his friends, who were indeed laughing up a storm. that encounter alone was enough to ground you to earth. you discovered how disappointing the world and its inhabitants truly were, and how the unrealistic fairytales you once swooned over would never be real life. maybe it was insane of you to ever even think so, given the perilous city you live in.

seeing as dating these days is more detrimental than beneficial, during your sophomore year of high school, you decided that you'd steer clear from being romantically involved in any way, shape, or form entirely. of course, the universe always sends you someone or something you stopped wishing for ages ago when you least expect it. maybe something you didn't even long for anymore at all. you were perfectly okay with sticking to romance novels. you sure didn't want to put your peace on the line, especially not in the name of romance—but someone changed that.

miles.

you knew of his existence before you started dating him, but only briefly. you had an algebra class together your sophomore year, but the boy was quite reserved, only speaking when spoken to. trying to keep to himself and stay out of your school's public eye completely backfired on him, because he became the topic of everyone's conversations multiple times for a full week after his father, the former police captain, passed away.

officer morales' death was a humbling reminder that brooklyn would only continue to grow more and more minacious. you haven't gone for a walk at night by yourself for as long as you can remember. you'd either be mugged, killed, or both. on the streets of new york, there was peril lurking around every corner. the city has more loose criminals than you were able to count on your fingers. you got used to living in such an environment, but your arm hairs never did stop shooting up whenever you had to step outside.

you recall giving your condolences to miles when he returned to school two weeks later. he had just nodded. you couldn't blame him though. everyone was constantly reminding him of something he'd rather not think about.

if he wasn't reticent and constrained to silence before, he was sure as hell was now. you tried your luck with him anyway, though.

whenever you'd see him sketching in his sketchbook in algebra, you'd compliment his skill or ask him what he was drawing. maybe it seemed a little invasive at the time, but your heart was in the right place.

"i didn't know you could draw," you whispered to him. your desk was right next to his, so ignoring you wasn't really an option.

"yeah."

"that's cool, art takes skill—and patience," you had smiled.

"mhm."

you fell into a routine of asking miles what he was drawing every day in class. he was undoubtedly annoyed by it at first, but he eventually got used to it, and you finally got more than a one-word response. it was this conversation in particular that changed the way miles saw you.

"is that the prowler's suit you're drawing?" you whispered, surveying the page.

miles nodded and responded flatly. "yeah."

"i think it looks cool. i really like his suit design," you retorted. "especially the purple."

"you do?" he stopped drawing completely and looked up at you.

"hell yeah," you expressed with a faint grin. "he may be a criminal or whatever, but you gotta admit, his suit and his tech are pretty neat."

so then you two were friends for a couple of months. you'd do things like eat dinner at his house, help around the flat, and study together. surprisingly, miles' mom, rio, took a liking to you. she even taught you how to cook, and would let you assist with fixing dinner.

miles had it was rare for his mama to warm up to people as fast as she did to you, and that made you feel special.

within the period of time in which you and miles would hang out, you ended up catching feelings for him, which you pushed to the side without a second thought. you still firmly believed that a relationship would bring you nothing but trouble. what you didn't know was that miles felt the same way about you as you did him, and eventually, he decided that he couldn't hide his feelings for you anymore.

miles confessed to you one night under the water tower on the roof of his apartment complex. you'd been watching the sun go down together and talking about whatever came to mind. you could've gazed into his perfectly sculpted face until the end of time. you doted on the way his eyes glowed gold when the sun hit them just right.

"you helped me open up. i didn't think that was something i was capable of doing anymore," he had told you. "i really do like you, [name]."

though you were terrified of putting yourself in a position to be played, you didn't want to say no, so you didn't.

for the two years you've been with miles, you've never not trusted him. he's never given you a reason not to. he's always treated you like royalty, practically kneeling at your feet like being in your presence was a reward all by itself—at least that's what you felt like being his girlfriend equated to.

it's no secret that miles tends to capture the attention of numerous girls without ever even having to try, whether they went to your school or simply passed him by on the street. miles didn't even have to lift a finger to have them drooling.

when you two got together, you didn't announce your relationship to the public like you were some kind of celebrity couple. that didn't stop people from gossiping like you were, though. according to everyone who went to visions, "miles and [name] popped out with each other out of nowhere!" and that was okay with you. nobody needed to know the ins and outs of you two's relationship. unfortunately, the obvious fact that you and miles were together didn't stop girls from constantly trying to have their way with him—one girl in particular was more persistent than the rest.

you'd be lying through your teeth if you said it didn't bother you at first, because it made you sick to your stomach. the thought of miles leaving you for one of those girls was one you couldn't bear.

you vividly recall standing beside miles while he was situating his books in his locker before a girl who was well-known around campus, arielle, approached your boyfriend on the opposite side and 'not-so-subtly' flirted with him like you weren't even there. it was no secret that she didn't like you, so you were stuck between trying to figure out if she actually liked miles or was just trying to get under your skin. all you knew was the way she was twirling her perfectly spiraled, bouncy, brown curls around her index while she bit her lip bottom had you undeniably heated.

"so miles, i've been learning how to braid hair," she had said. "honestly, i think i've pretty much mastered it. i want to practice cornrows... problem is, i couldn't find anyone with the type of hair i prefer to practice on, but then i saw you!"

you had to turn around and face the opposite direction just to hide the distaste that hastily painted your once-neutral expression. you brought your arm to your mouth and coughed twice so it wouldn't look like you were turning around for no reason. when you turned back around, arielle was looking you dead in the eyes, like you had done something horrible to her. you were surprised that she decided to give you even a fraction of her attention instead of acting like you were a ghost altogether.

you returned the energy, narrowing your eyes to slits. you weren't going to go toe to toe with another girl over a boy who was clearly yours. you had just redone miles' hair not even three full days ago, so she'd had to find another guy to practice on.

you shifted your gaze onto miles as he closed his locker. he hadn't even said a word to arielle up to that point, or even looked at her. when he finally made eye contact with the girl, she smiled innocently, as if she wasn't trying to murder you by burning holes through your skull with the way she was staring at you.

you were no longer bothered by the time miles turned his head to look at you. the way his face was twisted was more than telling, with confusion written all over it. you read that boy like a book.

"i mean, come on," arielle giggled. "you'd be the perfect person to practice on."

this girl didn't know when to stop. you were silently growing furious, wishing miles would take your hand and drag you away from that foolishness, but no. instead, he chose to engage in conversation with arielle.

"what do you think of my hair now?" miles asked.

this made your stomach drop, but it didn't show on your face. instead of saying anything or trying to figure out why miles cared what this random ass girl thought, you stood still where you were, waiting for the worst to be over. at the time, you and miles had only been together for about five and a half months. you didn't expect your first relationship to end that quickly. if this conversation didn't wrap up soon, you were sure that your head would start spinning and you'd pass out on the spot.

"of course! the two braids always look so good on you. i love them," arielle angled her head and leaned against the locker next to miles'.

"so do i," miles smirked, snaking one of his arms around your upper back to the shoulder furthest away from him. he pressed his palm against your arm and gently urged you closer to him, pointing to you with his free hand then looking back at arielle. "my girl got me right the other day, and she did a damn good job."

a smile crept up onto your face. for only half of a second, you didn't want to come off like one of those annoying moms of five who got the last 75" flat-screen tv during black friday and rubbed it in everyone's faces in the checkout line, until you remembered who's boyfriend miles was.

yours.

you had bragging rights.

"thanks, miles," you looked up at him, smiling brightly as any and all doubts left your mind. your eyes soon met with arielle's again, who was in disbelief. it seemed that you'd exchanged expressions. you were the one geeking now.

"damn, i'd say gossip doesn't spread like it used to, but the looks you were giving me tell me you know we're together and don't care."

arielle shifted her weight off of the locker, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. she was never one to admit, let alone accept defeat.

"girl, c'mon. don't be lame. miles wouldn't cheat on me. it's even crazier that you thought he'd flirt back while i was standing right here."

"have it your way, but he's gonna crack."

with that, arielle scoffed, opting to leave the situation alone for the day. that wouldn't be the last time she tried something like that, and it probably wasn't the first either. you just happened to be around to see it that time. it made you wonder how miles reacted every other time. you were also quick to question why she claimed miles would "crack." it rubbed you the wrong way.

"she's jus' talkin' outta her ass, hermosa. she likes attention," miles assured you.

for whatever reason, that response alone didn't satisfy you. you had an uneasy feeling in your stomach for the rest of the day. you remember calling miles that same night while you both did homework. in the midst of the comfortable silence that had settled, you decided to bring up how you felt about what had happened.

"i won't lie, earlier today, i was a little scared," you admitted.

"of what?"

"i thought you were gonna ditch me for arielle," you replied, letting out a deep sigh at the same time.

"i'd never," miles promised you. "te amo, chica. and only you. i'm with you for a reason."

"i love you, too," you grinned, genuinely feeling at ease. "i was just paranoid. i know now that you'd never do that to me."

the invasive thoughts that often crowded your mind and kept you up late at night; the ones listing each and every reason why your relationship with miles would crash and burn? they haven't bothered you since then.

©maybemymali

#dollzluvmali 💗#miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #e-42 miles morales x reader #earth-42 #across the spiderverse #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #miles morales #spiderverse #into the spider verse #itsv #atsv #miles g morales x reader #miles g

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wildemaven · 1 year

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Sweet Creature: Chapter Five

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

WC: 5129

Warnings: 18+ blog; mentions of food, language, sexual innuendos, two dumb dumbs who lack communication skills, working on sobriety, failed relationships, loneliness, references to hookups and bad dates, I think that’s it but like always please let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: Reader gets her nickname!!!!! This was a fun one to write! I got stuck in parts of it, but over all I’m so happy with it. I don’t want to give too much away by setting anything up. Big thank you to my dear @gnpwdrnwhiskey for her constant support and beta reading through this whole thing! She’s a gem! Everyone who’s been reading, reblogging, commenting, liking, lurking— THANK YOU! 💕

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“So, I take it things are good then? You both seem to be pretty, chummy with each other lately.”

“Yeah, since our talk, things have been—good.”

“Good?”

“Yeah, Good.”

The waitress stops by your table, refilling each of your water glasses, the clinking of the ice filling the silent break in your conversation.

“Thank you.” Diem’s sickly sweet voice offers gratitude to the waitress before the young girl is carrying on about her work and then Diem redirects her gaze to you, her overly generous smile morphing into a questioning smirk, accompanied by a cocked eyebrow.

“What’s that look for?”

“Good?”

“Uh yeah, that’s what I said.”

“So, now that you and Dieter are good, as you say, we’re just going to pretend what you said didn’t happen?”

“Would mind clueing me in on the conversation that’s happening right now, ‘cause I’m so fucking lost.”

“That night at my house, what you had said about Dieter.”

“Ugh, Diem! We’ve already hashed this shit out. Plus, Dieter and I’ve been on good terms for a couple weeks now, let’s just not discuss what I said that evening.”

“No, I’m not talking about that— the other thing you said that we have not discussed at all since you said it because the two of you were, and frankly might still be, idiots.”

“Oh my god, Diem! When I told you I was into edging, I didn’t mean like this— for fuck sakes woman, spit it out!” Grabbing for your glass of water, you take a sip to cool off your annoyance that is starting to simmer.

“The part where you said my brother was attractive—“

Diem doesn’t even get a chance to finish the rest of what she is saying because you nearly choke on your drink, water spraying from your mouth back into your glass at the remembrance of what you had said.

“Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine.” Wiping the water droplets with your napkin.

You had honestly forgotten about it. Forgotten about what you said, not about the thought— honestly, it still rang true.

The more time you spend with him, even if only for brief periods of time as you both got to know each other, you undoubtedly found Dieter Bravo attractive— he was caring, sweet, funny, and his almost chaotic personality only added to your growing attraction for him.

“So?”

“I don’t even know how to answer that.”

“So you do then— find my brother attractive.”

“Sure, whatever.” You hope your nonchalant response is enough to outwit the surge of questions she’s hurling at you.

“You know, for someone who works with kids regularly, you’d think at some point you’d learn how to lie better than them.”

“Fine! Yes, I think he’s attractive. There I said it, are you happy now?”

The check is dropped between the both of you, your hands quickly grabbing for it to avoid the back and forth on whose turn it is to pay this time, you place your card in the designated slot and place the receipt book on the edge of the table.

“You know this means I have to set you two up, like it’s my duty as a best friend to you.”

“You do it, and your best friend title gets revoked! Do not say a word to him, I am begging you! This isn’t middle school, I don’t need you playing matchmaker. Plus, we’ve just barely started talking, so just leave us alone.”

“You’re no fun. I’m sure he’d be into you though, I can always ask—“

“You are insufferable.” You chuckled, signing your scrawled signature on the receipt. “Seriously though, please don’t. I’m good with just being his friend and getting along like we are— we don’t need to throw feelings into the mix.”

She nods in agreement, but the scheming look she is giving makes you think she’s plotting something.

“Oh, I just remembered— I won't be able to bring Wren, something came up so Dieter is going to be bringing her to art class this week.”

“What something?”

“Something— when I figure out what it is, I’ll let you know.”

“I hate you!” Tossing your crumpled napkin at her, Diem’s laughter rising as you roll your eyes, grabbing for your to-box and purse.

“I love you too!”

The chorus of a slow ballad hangs in the air of the empty gallery room, the euphonious melody sandwiched between poetic precision, eliciting a longing for a tangible moment you weren’t sure you would ever experience.

Relationships never really seemed to work in your favor, not for a lack of trying on your part, you just seemed to always find the ones who never really wanted to advance into the seriousness that comes as relationships progress.

You still kept your mind open to the possibility of finding someone who had the similar interests and desires as you, never really closing the door on relationships as a whole. Dating gave? you great conversations with potential partners, and hookups satisfied that carnal itch your vibrator couldn’t touch.

You threw yourself into your work at school and your art to keep your mind off the fact that it had been over a year since you were last in a relationship, or had sex for that matter.

Settling into a new town, it was intimidating to put yourself out there, every one of your dates had been disastrous setups that ended before the dinner checks ever came.

For now, you were relying on fate to decide whether you were destined for a lifetime of solitude or not.

You sailed through setting up for an evening of painting. Brushes laid out next to a plastic tray filled with tiny squares, dried chalky pigments begging for thirst and attention. Dense papers, laying neatly on top of two family style tables, waiting for imaginations to spill over onto its textured surface.

Every class was a mixture of locals who were looking to further their own skills, tourists trying to immerse themselves into the happenings of the town, and a few who were convinced to be there against their will not realizing they would be leaving with a new hobby.

The attendees slowly started to meander in. A few browsing the art on display as they enter the front of the gallery, a tell-tale sign they are the tourists of the group this evening, while the others don’t hesitate to find a seat pulling out their own personal art supplies and setting up their space.

“We’re here! We’re here!” Wren zooming in like a tornado , little voice echoing off the cement floor of the building as she announces her arrival.

“Hi!” Dieter trails in behind her, a shy wave and gleaming smile directed at you.

The nervousness you had felt when Diem said he would be taking her spot tonight, now replaced with something more substantial, an awakened warmth penetrating through every wall you had built up over the years.

Your breath catches as he makes his way closer to where you’re standing, his smile shifting into a toothy grin, suddenly making your knees increasingly weak with every step he takes— what is he doing to you?

“Hey!” You manage to croak out.

“So wild to see it like this.” He looks around the open room, as if to recall all the memories that had been etched onto every wall over the years. “It was a general store growing up. My buds and I would scrounge up enough change in the summer for ice cream cones and a coke. Then we sat out front on the curb, planning what kinda trouble we wanted to get into.”

You can see it too. 12 year old Dieter, all gangly limbs with his wavy dark locks a tousled mess. A buoyant young soul, not knowing what it’s like to be broken and blue. You know though that 12 year old Dieter would be proud to see how hard he’s worked to be where he’s at right now.

You’re looking forward to seeing this side of him tonight, Dieter the artist, to observe the way he’s able to construct a visual representation of what ambles about in his mind.

“Looks like you got a good turn out tonight, this should be fun.” He says as he looks around at the now filled seats.

“Y-Yeah. Don’t be fooled though— Betty and Marilyn,” Casually pointing to the two older ladies, all set up and straight faced waiting for your instruction. “They take these classes way more seriously than blackout bingo. No one’s allowed to talk or ask questions, otherwise you’re on the receiving end of their threatening glares.”

“Huh— Well, tonight’s gonna be interesting then.”

“Uncle Dude! I saved you a seat by me!” Wren shouts at Dieter, her hand frantically smacking the table, indicating the vacant seat next to her.

“I guess that’s my cue. I’d say good luck, but I don’t think you need it.” He seals it with a wink as he gives your arm a squeeze, the gesture has become a sort of regular thing for him.

“Fuck!” It’s barely a whisper as you turn your back to everyone, mentally putting yourself in check.

This budding friendship between you and Dieter was refreshing, and the last thing you would have expected. The both of you had become so intertwined, mostly through the connection of Diem and Wren, but you both were beginning to thrive while in each other’s orbit.

You just needed to get a grip on these spontaneous feelings, before it was too late.

“Welcome friends! I see we have some familiar faces, as well as new ones tonight. For those who are new, tonight is a basics in watercolor. I’ll show you some techniques for the first half of the class, then in the second half you’ll be able to paint freely using the techniques. If there are any questions at any point in time, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Your eyes quickly scan over everyone’s faces, taking in the varying degrees of excitement, but lingering a bit when they land on Dieter. His head cocked to the side, attention undivided, taking in every word that fell from your lips.

“We’re going to prep our paper first.” You grab a larger brush, dipping it into a cup of water. A few swift swirls around before lifting and allowing the excess water to flow back into the cup, then placing the brush directly onto the stark white paper. “This is a soaking method, not required, but it helps prevent buckling of the paper— some will soak longer, but this will do for tonight.”

As instructed, everyone sets out to prep their papers, drips of water litter the table’s surface as brushes move about.

“Umm, ma’am? I have a question.” Dieter’s hand raised, stone face as he awaits to be called on. Betty and Marilyn’s brushes halt for a moment, side eyeing Dieter, before continuing the sweeping motions.

“Uh, yes. I’ll try to have an answer for you.” You can’t fully read his expression, but you sense a playfulness in his voice.

He takes a quick glance over to the two old women, then back to you. His movements calculated, forearms rest on the table as he leans forward, his question primed and ready.

“In your opinion, do you find allowing more time to prepare and properly produce a precise wetness, helps with the stamina of the— paper?” Drawing his lower lip between his teeth, his focus never wavering from where you stand.

The question so flagrantly sexual in its delivery, you assume a fluke with the way he asks it so flippantly. But you don’t miss the way his words unlock a needy appetite for more. Your body’s tragic lack of foreplay halted, now buzzing with enthusiasm at such an erotic statement. You do your best to control your heady thoughts and not allow his words to affect you in the slightest.

“Well, I guess that would be dependent on if it’s worth being quick and simple, or whether the job requires to be drawn out and deliberate to get the desired results.”

Dieter is surprised at how quickly you counter your response— touché. He has to avert his eyes, looking down instead at his hands as they fidget with the dry paint brush, fighting back the urge to laugh.

“Now, we want to load up our wet brushes with pigment and you can play around with brush strokes. Smaller strokes, known as stippling, the paint will stay in place and pool up. Longer strokes will drag your paint around the surface of the paper, leaving a wash of color from dark to light. The results will also vary depending on the pressure you use, so feel free to mess around with them.”

You give a few examples of the different ways pressure can affect the flow of paint and the proper ways to angle the brush against the paper, everyone eagerly waits to apply the same techniques to their own work.

Swirling your brush in the water to clean off the remaining color, the pigment suspended within the clear liquid. Blotting the brush on a towel, you take a few seconds to breathe, your face still warm after Dieter’s earlier comment.

“Ma’am! I have another question, probably a silly one.”

You bring your hand to your mouth to stifle the choking laugh that tries to escape your throat. You hold the brush in both hands, rolling between your fingers as you turn around to see Dieter’s hand raised yet again.

“I’m sure you know this, but there’s no silly questions. Please, let’s hear it.”

Your encouragement provokes annoyed huffs from Betty and Marilyn.

“Yeah— so these, uh, strokes. Are we talking like long, steady strokes or— hurried and—“

*Snap*

The brush you were holding, now in two pieces.

“Okay! I think that’s plenty of time spent on the basics. Go ahead and get started working on your own thing, I’ll be available if needed.”

Tossing the now broken brush in the nearest trash bin and wiping your sweaty hands on your jeans, you make your way back to the tables.

You make a point to stop and admire what each person is working on, commenting on their progress and giving assistance when needed.

There’s a weird wave of emotions that overcome you, thinking about how this will all come to end with the closing of the gallery. Sure, there were other galleries in town, but none of them offered classes or had the space to do so. But, you were grateful to have been able to share this space with others who were just as excited about art as you were.

Another reminder that you also don’t have a single thing ready for the final gallery exhibition, your own showing— mentally noting to start brainstorming ideas.

Dieter and Wren were still working away as you made it to their end of the table, the best for last in your opinion.

“What are you painting Wren?” Trying to decipher the colorful blobs sporadically placed, her little hands diligently picking up more paint than needed.

“It’s flowers, see.” She picks up the sopping wet paper to showcase her work, the upright angle causes the paint to run downward resulting in endless drippy hues puddling onto the table. “They’re poppies!”

“Oh! I see it now. Poppies are my favorite flowers too.”

“I know.” Wren, clearly more observant than any other 6 year old you know.

“Well, it’s beautiful. Your mom is going to love it!”

Shifting your attention over to Dieter, your breath hitches at what he’s been able to execute in a short amount of time, but your heart nearly stops when you really focus on what he had painted.

“Dieter—“

His brush stills, hovering over the inky black and white portrait.

“You like it?”

“Dieter, is that— me?”

“Umm, yeah. Sorry, I was just watching you up there and you were talking about everything— I could see this light in you, I don’t know, just felt really inspired by it.”

You’re speechless at his admission.

“I— I don’t even know what to say. It’s incredible.”

“Thanks. I’ve never tried watercolor before, only ever used oil and acrylic paints. This was fun though.”

He feels slightly embarrassed, hoping he didn’t make things uncomfortable between the two of you.

“Well, I think it’s beautiful. And would have never guessed this was your first time using this medium.”

You place a hand on his shoulder, a soft squeeze letting him know you’re touched by what he did.

Once the classes have commenced, supplies cleaned and put away for the next time, you wait by the door to thank everyone and bid them goodbye.

Dieter and Wren hung back a bit until everyone had left before making their way over to where you’re standing at the front of the building.

“You two outta here?”

“Yeah, this one’s getting hungry, best get some food in her before she gets angry. Sorry about Betty and Marilyn earlier, they seemed to leave in a hurry too.”

“Don’t worry about them, they’ll be back next week.” You wave off his apology. “Thanks for coming tonight, I know it’s not anything special—“

“No, it was great. You could see how much everyone enjoyed it. Makes me miss when I used to paint regularly.”

“I have some extra things at home. I could throw together a little kit for you if you’d like.”

“You’d do that?”

“Of course! What’s your number? I’m just realizing I don’t have it.”

He recites his number for you, you promptly enter it into your contacts and save.

“Uncle Dude?”

“What? What else am I supposed to call you? Friend?”

“Uh, Dieter…”

“Eh! Kind of boring.”

“Yeah, that’s boring Uncle Dude!” Clearly her ears work better than any other 6 year old too.

“Okay, give me your number then, it’s only fair.”

Keeping the screen hidden as he types it into his contact list.

“So, am I worthy enough of a fun name or not??” You playfully push at his shoulder.

Turning the phone around so you can see the screen, you see your number placed in the appropriate location and where your name would be, a nickname instead.

“Poppy?”

“Yeah, like your favorite flower.”

Diem’s sitting at the counter, enjoying warmed leftovers, when Dieter and Wren walk through the front door.

“We’re home! Birdie’s starving, insists she could eat the? a? whole restaurant.”

Wren runs into the kitchen and climbs onto the counter height chair, dramatically lowering her upper body onto the counter.

“Mama! I’m so hungry!”

“Here baby, eat this.” Diem slides her plate of pasta to her, her hand smoothing over her messy head of caramel colored hair. “Did you have fun at least?”

Dieter grabs a plate for himself, listening to Diem and Wren chat about the class, noticing Wren already peeking up after a few bites of food.

“Lots of fun! We painted this time. I’m going to be the flower girl at Uncle Dude and Poppy’s wedding!”

“Uncle Dude and Poppy’s wedding? Who’s Poppy?!”

“You know Poppy, Mama. She’s your best friend!”

Confused by what Wren is saying, Diem blinks in confusion in Dieter’s direction, he shrugs not having a single clue as to what Wren is talking about.

“And why do you think Poppy and your Uncle are getting married?”

“Because! They did that thing that people do in the movies!”

Dieter eyes widen as he nearly chokes on the noodle he’s eating, his fist covering his mouth as he coughs loudly to hopefully change the subject away from you and him.

“And what— t-thing would that be?”

“They talk and look at each other a lot. You know, the way they do in the movies when they’re in love— duh!”

“Hmm, well— that’s not how that works baby. Your Uncle and Poppy are just friends.” Trying to not break Wren's heart over the fact that she won’t be anyone’s flower girl at the moment.

“But after you're boyfriend and girlfriend, you get married.”

“Technically true. But Wren, baby, Uncle Dude and Poppy aren’t boyfriend and girlfriend either— they’re just friends, that’s it.”

Wren tilts her head ever so slightly, her brows furrowed in contemplation.

“But they have each other's phone numbers, like boyfriend and girlfriend’s do.”

This is not what Dieter had expected when they arrived home, he had plans to relax and catch up on a show he had started recently. Instead, he’s listening to his niece conjure up wild stories about a nonexistent impending marriage and being romantically linked to you— yet the more he listens, he realizes you’re someone he could see himself with.

At first he only thought of it as a normal attraction towards you. From that first day at school, he was drawn to your beautiful smile, how you instantly lit up when your students waved their ‘good mornings’ as they entered your class.

And if Dieter is truly being honest with himself, that night in the kitchen didn’t stall how thoroughly mesmerized he was by you. The more he thought about it, he realized you were the only one, aside from his sister, who called him out on his bullshit, something no one had done for a long time.

After talking with his Sponsor and really taking the time to sit in his feelings and reflect on the situation. And the only conclusion he could come to, and the only one that made sense, was he needed to figure out how to make it up to you.

He was thankful that you were receptive to the idea of still being around him, the amicable morning ‘Hello’s’ at school, fleeting glances from across the room during movie nights, tiny moments cementing these feelings for you.

When you shared your past and reasoning for being so put off by him, he knew that was a turning point in the mending process between the both of you. Coming from two very different backgrounds, yet your upbringing’s weren’t all that different from each other.

Tonight, watching you so absorbed in your element of teaching something you love, Dieter knew he needed you in his life anyway he could have you.

“Okay, but friends give each other numbers too. Doesn’t mean they’re in a relationship, just friends.”

“Then why did Uncle Dude paint a picture of her in class tonight?”

“Okay, I think it’s bedtime for you little miss. Go brush your teeth and I’ll be in for story time in a minute.” Wren’s shoulders dropped at that, but Diem took Dieter’s silence for mortification and decided it was best to put an end to it.

“Night Uncle Dude!” Wren shouted as she ran off to prepare for bedtime without any hesitation or arguments.

“Night Birdie!”

A lull hung over the room. Dieter now leaning back against the counter edge, head down and arms folded over his chest, nervously chewing at his bottom lip. Diem still seated in her chair, glancing up at the ceiling, letting all of what Wren had shared settle for a moment.

“How long?”

“How long, what?” His gaze shifting up to Diem, a line appearing between his brows as he waits for an explanation.

“How long have you had feelings for her?”

“I don’t know what—“

“Dieter! I’m not dumb, and definitely not blind. It didn’t take a 6 year old stating the obvious to see how much you like her.”

A grin forms as he shakes his head and laughs, of course his sister would pick up on something like this.

“I-I don’t know. I guess awhile at this point. Don’t know exactly when to pinpoint the time.”

“You should tell her.”

“Well, that’s not happening. Why? So, I can look like some fuckin’ idiot who’s been secretly falling for his sister’s best friend— yeah, I’ll pass.”

“Wait— Dieter, are you in love with her?”

“I, umm. Fuck! I don’t know— I think I—“

*BUZZ*

An incoming text message saves him from revealing exactly how he feels about you.

Dieter pulls his phone from his pocket to see your name along with a message, up on the screen. The way his stomach flips, smiling from ear to ear, completely affected by a simple text message from you.

Poppy 💐 - I hope this isn’t too late. I found those paints I mentioned earlier. Bringing them over, I’ll leave them on the porch.

Uncle Dude - Not too late, just finishing dinner. Text me when you get here.

“That’s her, isn’t it?” Diem’s smile mirroring his.

“Mind your business.”

*BUZZ*

Poppy 💐 - Here!

“Gotta go, not a word out of you about any of this! Got it?”

“Okay, okay!” Diem’s hands thrown up in comical fashion heading for Wren’s room, then tossing one last punch before rounding the corner. “I’ll start looking for my Maid of Honor dress tonight!”

Pushing off the counter in pursuit of the front porch, his eyes rolling at Diem’s lighthearted comment, Dieter finds you waiting for him— armed with a box full of tiny tubes of paint in every shade imaginable, paint brushes in an array of sizes and shapes, all curated by you for him.

“Hey! Sorry again— I was just, excited to get this all together for you.” You say as you lift the box towards him.

“It’s fine, Diem was just getting Wren into bed when you text. You didn’t have to do this, you know.” Grabbing the box from your extended arms, scanning over the contents, noting that you took the time to intentionally choose every item.

“I wanted to. If there’s something you need that’s not in there, just let me know and I can check my supplies.”

“No, this is perfect. Thank you.”

He takes a good look at you as you stand before him, deciding there isn’t any lighting that doesn’t look good on you, the moonlight being his favorite so far— even in the twilight, you’re the most stunning thing ever.

“I have an extra easel too. I just have to pull it out of the attic, but you’re welcome to use it.” Your fingers pick at the cuffs of your sweater, feeling flustered and warm as you try to remain calm, but the way Dieter is looking at you makes it hard.

“I can come by whenever to grab it.”

*BUZZ*

Another notification comes through Dieter’s phone, placing the box down on the ground, he fishes his phone back out of his pocket.

It’s an email, one he’s shocked to be receiving, his reaction baffled as he reads through it.

“Is everything okay?” You can’t get a good read on his hushed state.

“Umm, yeah— Yeah, everything’s fine. It’s from my agent. He said a director sent him a script, asking for me specifically for an upcoming project. Said he’s going to be sending over the scene lines for me to read over.”

“Oh my gosh! Dieter, that’s amazing!!”

Your body launches at his, arms thrown around his neck, pulling his solid body against you.

Instinctively, his own body begins to relax into yours, his hands slowly moving around and up your spine, taking a mental note of how perfect you feel against him.

“Y-yeah, I guess it is.” He murmurs, but his response sounds less than thrilled.

“Are you okay?” You pull back, still wrapped in each other's arms, so close, studying his features in a way you hadn’t done before.

He thinks he is. Dieter had planned to be here, in his hometown, for a few months. Take the time to enjoy his time here with his family and lean fully into his sobriety. He thought it would be months, maybe a year, before he would hear from his agent about any potential parts, let alone be a top pick for a role and be sent a script.

This was all supposed to be temporary, short lived and then move on with his life.

That was until he met you.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

It’s the drag of his upper lip down the column of your neck, your head angled back to allow the slow pleasing movement. Brief pauses allow his tongue to delicately dance about, taste the warmth of your dewy skin.

“Dieter—“ His name soft as it falls from your lips.

His large hand settles at the base of your neck, pulling you head back upright, thumb dragging across the apple of your cheek.

Your body is buzzing, an ardent energy building through Dieter’s stimulating and capable advances.

Dieter’s pillowy lips crash into yours, his tongue sweeping your bottom lip, begging for more of you— you oblige, licking into his mouth with earnestness.

A tingle runs down your spine, gradually turning into a throbbing sensation that settles at your core. Needy and breathless, grabbing off anything you can reach for.

Your hands clutching loose cottony fabric, your grip never faltering as you try to ground yourself in this mind-blowing moment.

“Dieter, please!” A throaty whine carries through the air, a plea for anything to help careen you towards a blissful peak.

“Dieter—“

Silence.

Nothingness.

No movement.

Fleshy desires abandoned.

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

The jolting sound of your alarm blares from your nightstand, you shoot up in a panic.

Your room, your bed, alone.

Your body depleted, pulse racing and chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, you fall back into the wall of pillows.

The third night in a row this dream, nightmare, has plagued you.

One minute he’s there, with you, surrounding you in an all-encompassing manner.

Then he’s gone.

Darkness.

Alone.

That night he got the email about the potential job, you were so happy for him, truly. Instinctively, you wanted to praise him, tell him how proud you were of him. There was a moment, a stillness, between the two of you. A spark, a flicker of something— gone when Diem’s voice called out for his help.

The truth was, Dieter is going to get this job, and then he’ll be gone. Back to his movie star world. Enveloped in the same world that created the demons that he’s fought so hard to keep at bay.

And you’ll be here. Alone. Like always.

Throwing the covers off your sticky body, you pluck yourself from the comfort of your bed. Mindlessly, you find your way over to the chair in the corner of your room, your hands grabbing for the brown fuzzy coat that’s been draped over it for the past few weeks.

You pull it on, nuzzling your face into the fluffy fabric, his musky scent still vibrant and sharp as it hits your nose.

The floor is cool against your bare feet as you pad your way down to your sunroom that doubles as your art studio.

Finally having inspiration for your exhibition.

#sweet creature series #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x fem!reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x you #Pedro pascal #wildemaven writes

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winterlogysblog · 2 months

Note

What are your own headcanons on the percy platoon?

I have one i need to say percival shows affection to others(Anne,Nasiens, Donny, Lancelot) by giving physical touch from kisses, hugs etc.. and telks daily that he loves them and mean everything to him.Percival feels like that type person. Lol😚💕 what they reactions will if Percival doses this?

I do agree with your own headcanon, Percy does seem like the type of person to have physical touch as their love language. As for the others reactions I would say they would reciprocate it especially Donny, Anne thought he's being clingy at first but loosened up to it, Lancelot would give him headpats at most and Nasiens is left a blushing and stuttering mess all the time.

For the Percy Platoon Headcanons I do have a couple lol

During the time that Lancelot is known as Sin the fox, he would often climb on Donny or Nasiens' shoulders to rest cause he gets quite uncomfortable walking on all fours. In most cases he would fall asleep on Nasiens' shoulders reason being he finds his scent soothing and relaxing. Now he knows why it's like that.

Lancelot's HATES it when his hoodie gets dirty. Donny said it's his own fault because the hoodie is mostly white, he got a death glare from Lance right after that remark.

One the day of Percival's resurrection, King asked Sixtus to bring Anne, Donny and Lancelot over so that the first people that Percival would see when he wakes up are his friends.

When Percy woke up, it's a heartwarming scene. Everybody cried and they fell into each other's embrace. They stayed in the Fairy Realm for a while just have some peace and quiet while they catch up on what's been happening with everyone.

The conversation about Nasiens' true origins is a heartwarming and funny one. They're all supporting and happy for Nasiens and excited to meet his family but the moment their names are dropped all hell breaks lose. Donny didn't believe it at first, Anne freaked out, Percival got even more excited and Lancelot smiled through it all and with a pat on the back Lancelot welcomed Nasiens to the family, the team is confused for obvious reasons and that's when he told them about his family for the first time and things got even more chaotic after that.

Nasiens would sometimes ask Lancelot things about his family, in a way he wants to know them in a much personal level which he didn't get the chance too during his stay there. Lancelot didn't shy away from it and told him stories every chance he gets.

Percival gets drunk quite easily, he's not a lightweight per se he just doesn't know his limit. They often shy away from giving him too much and resort to just giving him non-alcoholic drinks.

Donny and Anne's alcohol tolerance is pretty average, they learned how pace themselves really well. It's mainly due to Lancelot's high alcohol tolerance and Nasiens' incapability to get drunk, they don't want to make a fool of themselves while those two are still sober. In the end, it's a race on who gets drunk first.

Anne and Lancelot have the best sense of style out of the group. Nasiens was once a part of this club but his card got revoked because of his chosen hair style. He'll get it back don't worry.

After an unfortunate incident with a poisonous mushroom that Donny accidentally ate, every single ingredient needs to pass the 'Nasiens is this poison? Test'

Anne is quite handy with a needle and thread.

Lancelot knows how to braid. He would braid Anne's hair when he's bored. Just don't ask him how he knows how to do this or he'll stop leaving your hair with an unfinished braid.

#winter answers asks #lancelot #percival #nasiens #donny #anne #Percival Platoon #nanatsu no taizai #four knights of the apocalypse #seven deadly sins #4kota #nnt #mokushiroku no yonkishi #seven deadly sins sequel #nanatsu no taizai mokushiroku no yonkishi #headcanons #4kota headcanons #Percy Platoon Headcanons

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narrans · 2 months

Text

My Borrowed Son | 11 | First Day of School

Chapter Eleven | First Day of School

Parker wasn’t sure why he was so jittery. Well… he did, and yet he didn’t. There were a million things going on in his mind, and yet he couldn’t summon the right words.

His mom had done it. He was going to school.

Well… kind of.

He was in virtual school, which was the next best thing. Parker knew he couldn’t attend normal school because of his condition, but that didn’t matter. Now, he would get to see other kids and hear all sorts of new things from his teachers. There would be homework and reading assignments and, if he was lucky, he would make some friends.

Parker had on his best shirt and made sure everything was tucked in and that his hair was combed out thoroughly. He had been waiting for this moment all summer and he was not about to leave a bad impression or get off on the wrong foot.

Something in the little boy was making him shiver and shake with both excitement and nerves.

What if the other kids didn’t like him?

What if he wasn’t smart enough to keep up with the work?

What happened if he was too smart?

Would he be bullied?

Or would he be welcomed with open arms like any other kid?

Was his condition going to make the others uncomfortable?

What if they asked too many questions about why he got to stay at home and go to school virtually?

Parker took a breath to calm down his mind. It was something his mom taught him. To reinforce the calm he was trying to bring over himself, Parker remembered his conversation with his mom.

“Now, Parker, remember what I said about your condition?” Amanda had asked him earlier that day and every day for the past two weeks.

“It is a rare condition that the doctors are still figuring out. I’m just like you, just a bit fragile,” recited Parker at the drop of a hat.

“If there are other questions about how you’re fragile?” prompted Amanda.

“It’s hard to explain, but it’s basically what it sounds like. My body is delicate. I can break bones easier and stuff like that and being outside makes my body react poorly. It also means I grow differently, so I’m a bit small for my age,” explained Parker. At that moment, Dr. Melissa Hargrove’s words also rang in his ears about how Parker’s body was just like any other kid’s body, just a bit smaller.

For whatever reason, Parker wondered why Dr. Hargrove, his pediatrician, knew about his condition, but he couldn’t find a lot of information about it online.

It’s not like it mattered in the long run.

What mattered was that Parker was getting what he wanted – a chance to be a normal kid.

His entire setup was a bit unorthodox, but it was necessary. Parker had a webcam perched on top of a few wooden blocks so that he was front and center, just like some kind of CEO in a company. His mom had purchased a nice desk for him as well as some bookshelves for him to put his notebooks.

Not only had his mom purchased a nice desk and bookshelves for him, but she also made an expansion to his room so he could have a study space. Everything was set up nicely, making Parker feel like he was in an office room like his mom’s office. It made him feel very grown up.

A computer was nearby so Parker could watch the screen and feel like he was part of the class. If he had a question, he had a few buttons he could press to raise his hand virtually. If he was having some tech issues, his mom was permitted to assist. If he misbehaved, his special permission to be virtual could be revoked.

But Parker was determined to make sure he never lost these privileges.

He intended to be the best student that ever was at this school.

As he readjusted his camera and his desk with his paper and pencils arranged just so, his mom paced not so quietly nearby. Her footsteps sounded like small earthquakes to him. It made the table tremble rhythmically. His mom’s pacing was usually soothing. The miniscule child had fond memories of falling asleep to his mother’s pacing. This time, however, it was making him feel anxious.

It wasn’t until he heard his mother’s signature tongue click that he knew she wanted to say something. He suspected she had a few things on her mind, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear.

“Parker, sweetie, do you need anything else before class starts?” she asked.

“No, momma. I have everything,” said Parker. Something about the apprehension in his mother’s eyes made Parker feel uncomfortable. There was a part of him that was afraid she would change her mind at any moment about him going to school, not that she had done anything like that in the past.

“You sure? You don’t want any water or a snack?” asked his mom. Parker shook his head and smiled up at her.

“I’m sure, but thank you,” said Parker. “Momma? Don’t worry. I’ll be good. I’ve got all my supplies and I’ll be fine. I promise.” He pushed himself away from his desk, glancing at the computer screen to make sure he was still on time, and walked over to the edge of the desk.

“I know, and I’m trying not to worry. I just want you to have a great first day.” His mom approached and knelt, her eyes lingering on his eyes. A child’s intuition and innocents are unparalleled, and now was one of those moments. Parker didn’t understand all of the emotions his mother was going through, but what he did know was that she needed reassurance. The moment felt right, so Parker reached out and rested his hand against his mother’s cheek.

“I’ll make you proud, momma.” His words immediately brought tears to his mom’s eyes, and it took everything in her willpower to not scoop him up and pull him away from the world. He was too sweet – too pure – to be exposed to the outside world.

If a mother’s worries were astronomical, Amanda’s were incomprehensible. The terror of Parker being revealed as a miniscule child that could fit in a human hand was almost crippling. The fear of him doubting himself or not succeeding in everything he deserved to succeed in made Amanda want to cry. The desire for Parker to be accepted and to make lasting friendships was stronger than adamantium.

She knew parenthood was going to be a challenge, especially with a small child like Parker, but she didn’t think emotions this intense would possess her.

Amanda wanted to say so much more, but the flicker of the computer screen revealing a classroom caught both her and Parker’s attention. He looked back at her and beamed, a smile spread from ear to ear, as he hurried back to his desk and pressed the “on” switch to his camera.

There he was on screen. The image flicked on and revealed the classroom on the big screen. It made Parker feel like he was watching a movie with his mom, except this one was interactive – real.

The camera picked up all of the sound of the buzzing classroom, which made Parker’s hair raise. It was an odd sensation, but something in the back of his mind begged him to flee and hide away from the camera. The other part of him that ended up winning out had him stay put on the camera and sit patiently as he waited for class to begin.

Where did that sensation come from?

Why was it always nagging him in the back of his mind?

Parker pushed it from his mind as he focused on the other kids in the classroom, absorbing every detail of the classroom. There were at least twenty other kids, all of them around Parker’s age, and they were walking around the room and talking to one another. Based on his position in the room, Parker suspected he was at the front of the room by the teacher’s desk since he couldn’t see it in the picture of the class on his screen.

The desks were arranged in groups of five, making Parker think that his area was set up at one of these five desks since he could only see four other desks around his screen but five desks at all of the other spots in the room. It made him wonder who he was going to be with and if they would get along. His palms felt sweaty and his insides flipped and churned nervously.

The clock at the front of the room was counting down to 9:00 a.m. Each second, Parker felt a fluttering nervousness swirling inside him. He spotted a few of the kids looking and pointing at the camera, many of them covering their mouths and leaning toward one another as they whispered.

It made Parker squirm uncomfortably. Were they talking about him? And, if so, why not just come over and talk? He recited the questions and answers in his head that he and his mother rehearsed, the anticipation of talking to someone new for the first time starting to make him antsy.

Still, he wanted to put his best foot forward. He smiled and waved at some of the nearby groups, but that only made the other kids look away.

The miniscule boy wondered why.

He was just like them, just not there in person.

Perhaps they just know one another from the other grades? Friends gravitate to one another from grade to grade. Maybe they’re just as scared as me?

Parker smiled again and waved as a group of three girls walked past his screen. All of them had this weird look on their face, like it was a mixture of confusion and disgust.

Were all girls like this? Parker wondered.

It felt like a punch in the gut, but Parker was determined; at least, he started off determined.

When the bell rang and no one approached, Parker was feeling defeated. Could the other kids see him? Did he look like some kind of screen robot? Or was this just how things were going to be?

Oh well… I wanted to go to learn too… Parker thought. I guess making friends is harder than I…

“Hey, are you new here?”

Parker was pulled from his thoughts to see a massive face of a girl about his age leaning forward toward the camera. She had charcoal black eyes and black hair that was spun in tight, curly spirals. She had a little gap in between her front teeth, and it was clear she had lost a tooth recently at the bottom left of her jaw.

Again, that instinct to flee and hide welled up inside of him, but Parker choked it down as he fidgeted with his penicils.

“Um… uh… yeah. Hi! Sorry. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Parker. What’s your name?” asked the anxious ten year old. The girl leaned away and stared at the screen, her penetrating eyes making Parker feel like she was actually looking at him, before she looked directly into the camera.

“I’m Bailey. Bailey Johnson. Don’t you have a last name? Daddy always taught me to say your first and last name when you meet someone new,” said Bailey as she folded her arms across her chest and leaned forward on her desk.

“R-right,” stammered Parker, feeling like he was starting to flounder already. He wasn’t going to shy away from this though. He cleared his throat and straightened up. “I’m Parker Silverstein. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” beamed Bailey as she shimmied in her seat. “Um… why are you on a screen? It’s the first day. You sick or somethin’?”

Parker didn’t have a chance to answer, not that he was eager to do so. It was the first time he was going to put his question answering to the test, but it was cut short by someone striking a triangle that hung over the whiteboard.

“Alright, everyone sit down and get ready. We’ve got a lot to cover today and, if you were in my class last year, you know the drill,” said a tall man at the front of the class. He wore black rimmed glasses that reminded Parker of the ones Clark Kent would wear in the comics to disguise himself from being Superman. The man had sandy blond-brown hair, much like Parker’s hair, but he had pale blue eyes that reminded Parker of glacier ice that he had seen in his science books. The man looked young, but he held himself with the confidence of someone older than him. The man began to pace back and forth at the front of the room and continued to speak, which quieted the room.

“For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Mr. William Tamplin. You may call me Mr. Tamplin unless you’re my mother, which I don’t think any of you are, and I’m your homeroom teacher. I’m also you English instructor, math tutor, and I sometimes hold kickball tournaments for your grade range. I play the French horn and give piano lessons on weekends. Tracking?

“Good. Now, today is very simple despite all we have to do today. First and foremost, let’s get up from our chairs and give ourselves a little shake. First day jitters always keep me moving, and I can see some of you squirming in your seats already. So, let’s stand and shake.”

It was an unorthodox method to begin with, but a little more coaxing had the students standing and shimmying and shaking. Some of the kids started laughing, and even Parker stood and found himself laughing a bit at watching everyone get out their first day jitters.

Already, this was making him feel comfortable.

“Alright! Everyone back in your seats. We’re going to be doing a lot of these things throughout the day, so stay still until I ring this bell. As soon as you hear it, stand and get out those jitters. Okay?

“Good! Now, first and foremost we need to introduce ourselves. We’ll take turns, but let’s start small. Look at your classmates and shake everyone’s hand and introduce yourselves. You have thirty seconds. Go!” instructed Mr. Tamplin.

Parker had to admit that his teacher had a special way of conducting the room, and soon he had the names of the other five kids at his table. There was Bailey, of course, but also Davis, Lyanna, and Billie.

All of them asked, almost in unison, why Parker was on a screen and not at the table. Lyanna seemed less interested like Davis, who was currently drawing on his desk, but Bailey and Billie seemed genuinely curious as to why Parker wasn’t there with them.

“Well, it’s a bit complicated, but I have a medical condition. It just makes me a bit fragile, so I have to have school at home,” replied Parker.

“Lucky,” mumbled Davis as he continued drawing on the desk.

“Davis, you shouldn’t be doing that. It’s disrespectful,” scolded Bailey as she turned her charcoal eyes back to Parker.

“So, you’re sick a lot? That’s gross,” said Billie. “But you look fine to me. When I’m sick, I have snot, like, dripping down my face like the nasty monster. Like this. Blleehhh!” Billie proceeded to pretend snot was coming out of his face as he dragged his fingers down his nose.

“Ew! You’re disgusting,” Lyanna said as she rolled her eyes.

“You’re disgusting,” Billie shot back.

Parker was about to interrupt, but Mr. Tamplin rang the bell again and everyone stood and got out their jitters, something Parker was enjoying. It made him feel relaxed and connected to a class he could only see on a screen. It also distracted his table from the current argument they were about to engage in.

“Alright, now everyone needs to introduce themselves to the class, okay? One at a time so we can get to know your face. Just like I did, stand and tell us your name and a little something about yourself. It can be something you like doing. It can be your favorite television show or book. Ready? You have ten seconds and then the first student is whoever I point to. Go!”

One by one, the students stood up and introduced themselves, willing to participate in this game-like activity set forth by Mr. Tamplin. Parker was having a great time until, finally, he saw Mr. Tamplin’s eyes focus on him and his finger point directly at the screen.

“Okay. You. Who are you?” asked Mr. Tamplin. Parker suspected Mr. Tamplin already knew who he was, but it was part of the activity. Suddenly, Parker’s heart was in his throat and every thought was wiped from his mind.

Who was he?

What was his name?

What was he supposed to say?

Parker felt a mixture of nausea and excitement as he stood up from his at-home desk and cleared his throat. His heart was pounding a hole through his ribs. The edges of his vision seemed to blur and refocus.

Then, somehow, the words just came to him.

“Hello, my name is Parker Silverstein. My favorite book is The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkien, and I like inventing and making things,” said Parker. He took a breath of relief as he waited for Mr. Tamplin to instruct him to sit back down.

“Well, Parker, nice to meet you. Everyone say ‘Hi Parker’.”

“Hi Parker!” Everyone echoed back. It was the same thing everyone had done to one another the entire class.

“Now, Parker, would you like to explain why you’re on a screen? Or do you want to save that for another day?” asked Mr. Tamplin. The ten year old child felt a pit form inside him. It made him feel a bit awkward to be called out in front of everyone, but he kind of wanted to get it over with all at once.

Plus, Mr. Tamplin had given him an option of now or later.

“Um… I can tell them now. Um… so… I have a… um… medical condition. It’s a bit rare and it basically just makes me a bit fragile, so I have school at home,” explained Parker.

“Wonderful. Thank you for sharing Parker. Now, onto the next!”

Just like that, without any extra hassle, Parker had explained to over twenty other kids that he was just a little bit different, and no one had any other questions.

Though it was bound to happen, Parker was grateful that Mr. Tamplin didn’t open up the floor for discussion. He didn’t like all of that attention on him if he was being completely honest. It made his skin crawl and he felt like he needed to duck away and hide under the desk away from the camera.

At the same time, it was exhilarating. Parker had just made so many new friends, and some of them were right there at his table.

The day continued, for the most part, without incident. There were a few teachers that came into the room and had additional questions for Parker who emphasized to the class that he was going to get all of the same homework, additional lessons, and supplementary material like everyone else, but no one seemed interested in the particulars.

There was one teacher, Ms. Kendall Kain, who pulled Parker’s monitor to the side to ask, as she said, some “follow up questions.” Many of them were about specifics of his condition followed by a somewhat implying statement about Parker not looking sick. At some point, Parker called in his mom to answer some of Ms. Kain’s questions, which quieted Ms. Kain for the rest of the day.

Parker loved all of his teachers, except for Ms. Kain with her wrinkly brow and thick rimmed glasses held on by a gaudy beaded chain, and he was more than ready to tackle the literal stack of homework he was given.

After that incident with Ms. Kain, Parker’s mom peered in from time to time to give him a little thumbs-up, to which Parker always returned the gesture.

The rest of the day ran smoothly, ending once again with Mr. Tamplin.

Parker logged off from class and, with excitement, rushed out to his ladder to run to his mom to tell her all about the day he had at school. This was a promising start to his educational journey, and a tart to even greater things to come.

Parker was sure of it.

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue

Beginning

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jungle-angel · 6 months

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You've Got A Friend In Me: Part 1 (Calvin Evans x Reader)

Summary: You and Cal have just had your daughter and you can already tell that Six-Thirty is gonna be her partner in crime

Warnings: Mentions of birth, etc.

Tagging: @floydsmuse Meggy dahling, this was all I was thinking about all day at work and there's a ton more coming (lol).

Calvin had been blinded by his own excitement, even as jumped up onto the snow covered curb and ran all the way back to Franklin Hall where Dr. Powers had taken over his class for the day. It had only been a couple of hours, but they had been the best hours of his life as far as he was concerned.

Through the doors he went, striding down the hall like a proud general until he came back to his classroom. Dr. Powers was still in the middle of the lecture, but Calvin, ever the gentleman, had no intentions of interrupting.

".........Now remember, this is extremely important and will be on the final exams at the end of the semester," Dr. Powers informed them. "It's important to remember that bases have certain characteristics and properties applied to them. Bases are slippery to the touch, can taste bitter and change the color of pH indicators. Any idea what test can be done for this? Phil?"

"Some can turn red litmus paper to the color blue?" Phil answered, a little uncertain.

"You would be absolutely right," Dr. Powers told him.

Calvin was smiling like an idiot, biting his lip as he waited for the perfect opportunity to catch Dr. Anthony Powers off guard. He knocked rather loudly on the open doorframe, mid-sentence which really put Dr. Powers into a rip-roaring fit.

"Goddamnit D'Nadi!" Dr. Powers thundered. "How many times have I told you that if you ever came around my lab again, I'd have your balls boiled in hydrogen peroxide??!!!!!"

"Oh c'mon Tony, I thought you loved me?" Calvin chuckled.

Dr. Powers groaned in embarrassment but the students gasped excitedly at the sight of their favorite professor. "PROFESSOR EVANS!!!!!" they shouted.

Calvin was soon mobbed with the question he had been anticipating ever since your students and his had found out that you were pregnant.

"Is it a boy or a girl?"

"What'd she have Dr. Evans?"

"Is the Missus ok?"

"Was it a boy or a girl?"

Cal waited for every single one of them to be silent, once again biting his lip as he saw the tension in his students' faces.

"It's a girl," he said.

A huge roar of cheers erupted from the students as well as a huge look of relief on Dr. Powers' face.

*****************

"So it was a girl huh?" Powers asked.

"Yep," Calvin answered. "Born not even twenty minutes ago."

"And you witnessed it?"

"First man in this university's history," Calvin said proudly.

He and Powers high-fived each other. "You're a lucky man Calvin Evans," Powers told him. "I would've thought they wouldn't have allowed it."

"Well the stupid doctor tried to kick me out but I threatened to have his medical license revoked if he even tried," Calvin chuckled.

Dr. Powers laughed a little too, knowing how so many medical students were, thinking they were the cat's ass until they picked a fight with the wrong person.

"You get any pictures?" he asked.

"Not many," Cal answered ruefully. "They took the baby to the nursery for her shots as soon as she was all cleaned off but hopefully she's back with (y/n)."

He showed Dr. Powers the polaroids he had taken of your baby daughter all snug in her little hospital bassinet and even a few that the nurses had given you. "Oh God, she's gorgeous," Powers chuckled.

"Thanks Tony," Cal answered.

As soon as they had gotten lunch, Dr. Powers had come back with two Coke bottles, popping the caps with the bottle tab on the end of his keys. Might not have been in a bar, but one way or another, the two men shared a drink for the both of you.

*************

You softly hummed a song to the tiny little girl in your arms, all snug and cozy in the Irish knit blanket that Pat, your mother-in-law, had made for her and her soft pink knit cap. She was such a tiny little peanut, with a full head of dark blonde hair and her daddy's little button nose. You wished that she would open her eyes, but you knew right off the bat they would be that same deep, deep blue as Calvin's.

You sat up just a little bit to see Calvin crossing the street once again, clutching the collar of his jacket as he made his way into the building through the heavily falling snow.

Your daughter, Ellen Patricia, wriggled a little in her blanket as she began to wake up. "Shhhh, Daddy's coming," you whispered. "He just had to run back to work for a minute."

As if those very words had summoned him, Calvin quietly entered your room. "Is she awake?" he whispered.

"She's just waking up," you answered.

Calvin bent and leaned in to kiss you and then Ellen. "How are my girlies?"

"She slept the entire time you were gone," you told him.

"Wonder if she'll sleep her first night at home?" he wondered.

"Sporadically," you chuckled. "Babies rarely ever sleep through the night, especially when they're this small."

Cal hardly worried, even as he kissed Ellen's delicate little head. He knew that either way, when it was time for her to go home, she'd still sleep well.

********************

Ten days was all you had needed in the hospital before the nurses told you that you would be going home. Dr. Kennedy, the female doctor who had delivered Ellen, gave both you and the baby one last look before she gave the final word that all was well.

Calvin led you out to the car and made sure that both you and Ellen were safe before heading home. You couldn't wait for your in-laws, let alone Six-Thirty to finally meet her. It had been a long time coming, but now that the moment was getting closer, you were almost shaking with excitement.

When Calvin finally pulled in the driveway, there was your mother in her black winter coat and boots, shoveling off the front steps. She didn't notice that Cal's car had pulled in the driveway, let alone the fact that you had returned with him.

"Hey Ma! Guess who's home?" Cal called to her.

Pat let out a shriek and dropped her shovel before bounding down the steps to hug her son and help you and Ellen out of the car. "Oh she's home already?!" Pat nearly shrieked.

"Two weeks before Christmas," you told her.

Pat nearly broke down and sobbed when she saw Ellen all bundled up in her little cap, sweater and blanket. "Oh (y/n) she's beautiful," Pat gasped.

"Thank you Pat," you said before she hugged you.

"Here, let's get you both inside before this snowstorm really blows in," Pat said. "Your father should be home soon."

"Where'd he go?" Calvin asked.

"He went to go and shovel out the Levensteins' driveway about a half hour ago," Pat answered, shutting the door behind you and hanging her scarf and coat up on the rack. "Heard that one all the way up The Chain."

Calvin laughed. The Chain was very well known throughout the town, his mother's friends who kept in touch with each other both on the latest gossip and goings-on around town. Those nine women had been like second family to Calvin growing up and anybody that badmouthed them, would surely have gotten a tongue lashing, especially if that someone was one Mrs. Mildred Dillard.

The scritching of nails on the wood floors and the jangling of a collar signaled Six-Thirty coming down the stairs, the curly haired canine happy as ever to see you both after having been away for so long. Calvin took Ellen from you so that you could get a chance to get your coat, scarf and boots off, stooping down to one knee so that he could properly introduce Six-Thirty to Ellen.

"C'mere," he coaxed. "Somebody wants to meet you."

Tentatively, Six-Thirty approached, recognizing right away the faintly familiar scent that he had caught one day when Calvin had come home after visiting you. Of course Six-Thirty was a gentle giant with Lucy, Cal's two and a half year old niece, but he still thought it best to bring home one of Ellen's baby blankets for him to sniff.

Calvin laughed when Six-Thirty began licking poor Ellen's face, but ordered him down when she began to whimper. Funnily enough, the minute she started, he too did, his high pitched whine coming before the bark.

"Oh God Sweetheart," Calvin laughed. "I hate to say it but I think these two are gonna be partners in crime when she's older."

You laughed with him, kissing your husband and then your daughter as Calvin rocked her gently in his arms. Deep down, you could feel it too and only one thought springing into your head......Lord help us when she's older.......

#calvin evans #calvin evans x reder #lessons in chemistry

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tmntxthings · 1 year

Text

一∑michelangelo hamato。・゜・

(pics from pinterest)

> raph’s < | > leo’s < | > donnie’s <

—————————————————————————

version: rottmnt aka rise

aesthetic: orange + character-centric

song association: fire by e l e y

—————————————————————————

author’s notes: we did it :D set complete ✅ which one was your favorite?? did you like any of the songs??

> Profile <

name: michelangelo hamatooooooooo

nicknames: mikey / angelo

aliases: dr. delicate touch / dr. feelings

location: *~in newww yorkkkkkkk concrete jungle where dreams are made of~*

species: ornate box turtle mutant

age: 15 years young :D

height: 4’7 (･_･) i will growwwww manifesting itttt

color: orangeeee , but green is cool too and yellow

weapon(s): ~flame-generating kusari-fundō~ (cool righttttt?) and my sick ninjutsu skills

appearance: one flyyyy turtle right here, i’ve got my awesome stickers, silly face kneepads, emerald skin ;D, and can’t forget my orange bandanna

personality: shining personality!! i’m super duper friendly (unless you destroy my most favorite place on earth aka pizza place), kindddd, caringgg, absolutely adorable, an empath for sureee, a tinsy-weensy bit feral, just a smidge, honest, lovable, cute, spoiled? babied? the ~*brightest*~ crayon in the box c:

likes: familyyyy, art, dancing, music, fashion, meeting new people, making new friends, turning villains into friends, helping my brothers, my dr. sides, pizza, food in general, skateboarding, gaming, copying leo, annoying my brothers (lovingly ofc), youtube, pranks, being helpful, cooking, magic powers, physical affection

dislikes: being talked down to, not taken seriously, being called a monster, judgey people, sticklers, close-mindedness, threats to those i love, haters, supernatural jump scares, lying

other: :DDDD guess whoooo??? yup, it’s me Mikey!!!! I think this whole project is super cool and its definitely giving me ideas for future Dr. Feelings solutions, being able to write down your thoughts or just how you feel can be so relaxing orrrr maybe even show you what you are thinking if it’s all muddled up or too much, for example i bet Donnie really liked writing all this stuff down, i bet it calmed that big brain of his!! So if you ever make an appointment with Dr. Feelings don’t be surprised when you are asked to write down how you feel hehehe, now some words from Dr. Delicate Touch, who feels nothing, I. Was. Last?!?! Out of all my brothers, you chose me to go last?!?! -.- this better not be because I’m the youngest either!! The only acceptable answer is that the best is saved for last! Hmph! I expect to hear this from you very soon, with hugs and cuddles too! Anddd maybe even your Disney+ password? (Donnie revoked my privileges again T^T~~) it totally wasn’t my fault… water balloon pranks are holy.. sacred traditions.. ;ppp

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innytoes · 3 months

Note

I'm sorry I can't keep making out if your cat keeps staring at us like that / Julie/Bobby

Sequel to this fic, in which Bobby learns he has a cat like several months after he adopted a cat.

It had been a little embarrassing to introduce Alfred to the rest of the guys. Because Reggie looked betrayed when he learned Bobby had been 'hiding' his cat from him, and when Bobby had tried to explain that no, he just didn't realise he had a cat until Julie told him, Luke and Alex dragged him so hard he'd almost revoked cat-petting privileges from them.

But these days, Alfred was a known and beloved member of the family. Hell, the postcard Alex sent from his vacation with Willie hadn't been addressed to Bobby at all. Just the cat. And Alfred seemed to love his friends just as much as Bobby did. Even though he was better at showing it.

Sometimes, though, he was a little too good at showing it.

"I'm sorry," Julie said, dragging away from some of Bobby's best work, if he did say so himself. "I can't keep making out if your cat keeps staring at us like that."

From the back of the couch, right where their heads had been when they'd been kissing, Alfred purred, looking pleased two of his favourite humans were there. Bobby bit is lip. He didn't want to kick Alfred out, or anything, and hurt his feelings. But he also didn't want to say that out loud, because it made him sound like a sap.

"Alright," Bobby said, slowly picking Alfred up and putting him on his lap, facing towards the room in general, and not Julie. "Fixed." He leaned back over, cupping her cheek, using the other hand to stroke Alfred and keep him in place. Alfred purred, seemingly okay with this new situation.

Which worked, until he got a little into kissing Julie, one hand buried in her hair, the other on her arm, and she pulled back again. "Ahem," she said, looking down at her chest, and Julie wasn't usually that forward, but it wasn't like Bobby was going to complain...

Except when he looked down, he noticed someone else had gotten there first, Alfred making biscuits against her breasts.

"Alfred, I can totally relate," Bobby said, picking the cat up and holding him in front of his face. Julie snorted. "But I'm trying to get laid here. You're cramping my style."

Alfred just purred, hanging limply in his arms.

They tried the laser pointed, which worked until it didn't. Then the catnip mousey. By that point, he'd managed to get his own paws on Julie's breasts, even if it was just under her shirt, through her bra. They'd laid down on the couch, and Bobby finally thought he was getting somewhere. Until the mousey landed on his back. And Alfred did soon after.

"Oof," Bobby said.

Julie laughed as he carefully dislodged his cat. "Maybe we should take this to the bedroom," she offered.

"Maybe we should," Bobby agreed, because hey, at least that was a step in the right direction. Alfred purred from his lap as Julie got up, dramatically taking off her shirt along the way.

"Alfred, I love you," Bobby told him, leaning over to whisper and give him little kisses now that Julie was out of the room. "But I'm going to close the door because if you cockblock me, you're moving in with Uncle Reggie. Love you."

It wasn't until weeks later that Julie confessed she heard him, long after he'd given up trying to look cool in front of her.

Thankfully Julie liked dumb sappy guys just as much as grumpy cool guys.

#julie and the phantoms #bobbyxjulie #fanfic #THE RETURN OF ALFRED #bobby gets to be a himbo too as a treat #uncle reggie taught Alfred fetch and Bobby's not sure he forgives him for that #I wrote a thing #ignore the fact that this took like weeks my brain is having a hard time writting anything at the moment

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cultofkakyoin · 1 year

Text

Cavia Italiana: Esperimento del Diavolo

---

A/N: Yo, does anyone remember when Cioccolata was all the rage in the Fandom? I wrote three fics for him, now here's a rewrite of a request (originally a commission but I didn't feel good enough to charge tbh) I got from a friend on discord back then, I didn't include all they wanted so now here it is! The Original is right here! And you can read it on Ao3 here!

---

Relationship: Cioccolata/Reader, Brief Cioccolata/Secco

Content Warning!: Kidnapping, surgery, ear licking, rape, amputation, amputation fetishism, a bit of ableist language (Reader calls him crazy and stuff), torture.

Walking home in the middle of the night is not ideal, the cold hits your nose and cheeks, causing them to redden painfully, you pull the collar of your coat closer, trying to stay warm.

The darkness swallows your figure as you turn left down an alley, you swear you hear footsteps and stop in your tracks. Your heartbeat speeds up as you look around the alleyway.

No one.

You sigh, your breath turning into a fine mist in the cold air. You resume your walk home until you hear it again, you contemplate speeding up but can't get yourself to as the path in front of you is completely engulfed in darkness.

You look around again, but still nothing, you put your foot forward to continue your trek but a dog comes running at you, but wait...

That's not a dog.

It stops in front of you and you realize it's a man, he's sitting on all fours. You back up but your back hits something and a sharp pricking sensation hits your neck.

You grab the back of your neck where the pain was and start to stumble, everything begins to spin.

Your hand attempts to find something to stabilize yourself but before you do you fall to the ground catching a glimpse of someone in your eye, your head hits with a thud, and looking up the sky spins before it all goes black.

...

Cioccolata grins, crouching down beside his newly acquired pet. He pushes her bangs back to look at her face completely.

She's a pretty one, not that it matters to him but it didn't hurt to have a pretty thing to look at now and then.

Secco looks at him and Cioccolata nods, slipping the purse from her shoulder before letting the dog-man (man-dog?) Grab her wrists and drag her deadweight to her new forever home.

He riffles through her purse, getting a semblance of who she is before he gets sinks his claws in her.

Perfume, the bottle saying 'all natural scented with vanilla beans and coconut,' the 'doctor' (who has since had his medical license revoked) sprays it in the air, he lets it waft onto him as he walks through the mist, it does indeed smell like vanilla with a small hint of coconut, soft and sweet.

He decides that it might be useful in the future and stuffs it in his coat pocket.

The next item is obvious, something almost every woman has in her purse, sanitary products, pads, tampons, etc. Fairly normal, that's not proof the woman is menstruating at the moment.

Standard. It gives no real information. Useless. He tosses them on the ground.

Next, gloves. Cioccolata hums. They're simple knit gloves, thinner than the ones you'd see in colder areas of the world, fit for cold nights in the Mediterranean.

At first glance they're nice and well made but once he checks the brand, he can see they're in fact a cheap knock-off, the tag reads 'Pholli Phollie, 100 τοις εκατό μαλλί' He snickers, he's fairly sure the real 'Folli Follie' doesn't even manufacture gloves and he doubts the '100 percent wool' text.

Though they do make him wonder if she's been to Greece before. He tosses them in a trash can nearby, she won't be needing them anyway, plus he will settle for no less than the best for his pets.

Nail polish, Essie, an American nail polish brand.

It's a nice shade of holographic forest green, of course, she won't be needing it but he definitely will. He stores it in his pocket.

Her wallet is the next thing he pulls out. It's drab, a worn-out brown color and it's busted at the seams, she seems to have had it for a long time. Flipping it open he observes zero credit or debit cards, not all too surprising, people in Italy generally prefer cash to those.

Opening the pocket he finds no money either, he wonders if she's poor or low on cash. Next, he pulls out her ID, (Y/n) (L/n), (Height), (Weight), (E/c), (H/c), born in (year), (country).

Her photo has a small awkward smile, her upper lip slightly open to expose her front teeth, he can't help but stifle a laugh as he thinks she very much looks the role of a guinea Pig or perhaps a chipmunk or lab rat. He stuffs it in his pocket along with the nail polish.

The wallet is empty except for a photo, he sees her and various other people, some look like her but that could just be a coincidence.

Nevertheless, the photo portrays a happy woman surrounded by family and/or friends. His lips tug into a grin as he slides it from the plastic casing and tucks it into his other pocket, making sure not to bend or crack the printed paper.

He tosses the wallet like the rest of her belongings, he's leaving a sweet trail for someone to find.

The last thing in her purse is a Keychain, it's cute, having a little cartoon figure on, and a pocket knife. He nearly burst out in laughter.

Not so useful now, huh? He tosses it to the ground, she will never require any of that again. He throws the purse in the next trashcan he sees and finally, they make their way back to 'home.'

...

You wake up shivering violently, your bare back is against something freezing cold. It feels like metal, the room is pitch black, and there's not a window or even a small shine of light coming through the crack of a door, just pure darkness.

When you go to move your wrist you realize you've been restrained, attempting to move your legs gave the same result.

Dread washes over your entire body and your already frozen body shudders as your blood runs cold as you process the situation.

You take deep breaths, you've heard freaking out is bad in these kinds of situations, it always brings more trouble.

Well, that's what the media told you anyway, you choose to believe it and try not to completely break down in tears.

You tug at the restraints, which awards nothing, you attempt to twist your wrist but are met with pain as your bones slide a bit too much together, the cuff (that you gather is leather from feel) is on so snuggly you can't move it any which way, not back, not forth, not up, not down.

Even though you assume the answer you try the same with the ones wrapped around your ankles.

Yup, as expected, it's the same, the cuff is so tight you can barely feel your hands or feet and you can't at all feel your fingers or toes, you can move them but there's no feeling to be, well, felt, just a slow and stiff wiggle of the appendages.

You want to yell but refrain, you're scared- no- you're terrified of who might come running if they hear you scream. You try to remember what happened before you woke up but it proves to be harder than usual to recall your previous actions.

'Think (Y/n), think.'

But you can't, you don't even remember what happened after the afternoon you arrived at work. It's like there's a blank space where a memory should be, you know this couldn't have happened at work, sure it's a bit of a dangerous area and several of your coworkers sexually harass you but you don't see that happening during your shift.

Your head snaps to the side as you hear distant footsteps, they get louder with each step but soon they stop and you hear a lock click, the door opens slowly, the bright light hurts and you squeeze your eyes shut, you instinctively tug at the binds to cover your eyes.

"You're awake, good, good," a voice says, the light is so blinding you can't make out who it belongs to. "I was afraid I put you in a coma, see I didn't plan by weight and height" it adds, finally your eyes adjust just enough for you to see the owner of the voice.

It's a man, maybe in his 30s, with very odd hair and green markings on his face, you're not sure if it's makeup or tattoos, not that it matters at the moment.

He approaches you and reaches out to grab your face, you lean your head away from his hand but your neck can only stretch so far and he roughly grabs your jaw, turning your head side to side, examining you.

"You're a pretty one, my pet" his grip tightens and there's a grin creeping on his face. He leans down closer to you, putting his face near yours, fighting against his grasp is useless as he just gets closer, his breath stinks despite his very white teeth.

"Let go," you say through clenched teeth, attempting to pull your jaw from his hold. "Now, now, don't be like that" his voice is sweet but clearly taunting, he pecks your cheek and you feel his free hand creep down your bare body...

Wait, bare?! You're naked! That bastard undressed you, no wonder it's so cold.

His hand settles between your thighs and you violently fight the leather restraining your wrists and ankles.

"Stop it!" It's a pathetic scream, your throat feels painfully dry, and your voice cracks, you know you shouldn't be but you feel embarrassed at the sound.

"Aren't you just the cutest" he whispers in your before licking your ear, sticking his tongue inside.

Your eyes widen and you wince at the feeling of the slimy muscle twirl in your ear, leaving behind wet sticky saliva dribbling out of your ear.

Gross.

You nearly forgot about his hand until you feel his fingers rub between your labia. "What are you do-!" You're cut off by a moan as his fingers focus on your clit, you try to scooch away from his fingers but there's no give from the restraints, and you're stuck.

"So fidgety, are you nervous? There's no need to be, I'm a doctor, you know" your kidnapper assures you as one of his fingers circles your entrance. There's no way this nut is a doctor, right? A moan tears from your throat as he goes back to your clit.

"Please stop, just let me go" you beg, sweat starting to bead on your forehead, it goes cold in a near instant, maybe it's due to the low temperature of the room or maybe it's because of your blood running cold throughout your body.

"But why, you're so wet" he grins, once again snaking his tongue into your ear canal, practically fucking it, thrusting his tongue in and out, that cannot taste good.

Your breathing picks up and you fight harder against the cuffs. "Let me go!" All your captor does is laugh "I love it when they struggle... Secco, are you getting this?" His eyes cast up for a second to look at something.

Who is he talking to?

You stop struggling to look where the green-haired man was looking.

Oh, God.

You can barely make it out but you see the flashing red light of a camera and a wide lilac eye staring intently at you, pointing the camera at you and panting heavily, you wonder how you never noticed them, the eye stares right back at you and your already heavy breathing picks up even more.

Snapping you away from the cameraman the 'doctor' inserts one finger inside of your cunt. "Take it out, you-you-" the room starts to spin and you can't finish your sentence before everything goes back.

Cioccolata sighs, pulling his finger out of your sex and rubs his temples, not caring about the wetness that still clings to his finger. "Disappointing, we'll have to work on that, won't we?" He asks your unconscious body.

He beckons Secco towards him "finish me off and I'll give you candy, would you like that?" He bribes the dog-like man, who happily nods and begins to unbutton Cioccolata's pants.

He grabs the nitrous oxide mask, it's not the only anesthetic he'll be using but it'll keep you calm until he's finished. He secures the mask behind your head, he turns on the gas as Secco begins taking his hard length into his mouth.

...

Groggily waking up to the worst pain in your life, your eyes snap open and you scream, to the average person it's blood-curdling, to your captor it's sweet, sweet music. You're met with a bright light pointing at you, and all of your limbs hurt. You're unable to see past the light but you hear the sound of a saw.

Back and forth.

You're far too confused to make out what's happening in the moment. You thrash "stop that!" Someone reprimands you, looking towards the voice you see your kidnapper, and your heart sinks into your stomach as you see he's covered in blood.

Your eyes won't focus and they dart from his face to his moving arm, grating, back to his face then down to his hand. You're breathing goes erratic as you see what's making that horrid sound, he's sawing through your arm, and your breathing slows down as you breathe in more of the gas.

"As much as I love your screaming, I can't have you freaking out once I get to your legs." He stops, setting the bone saw down with a clink, he grabs something else, a syringe.

Uncapping said syringe he grabs plastic tubing, you follow the tube, and it leads to what remains of your arm, he pierces the tube and soon your surroundings begin to fade around you.

You relax and don't react as he resumes his actions. Your thoughts slow and soon you're knocked out once again.

...

You groan as you awake, grunting as you attempt to readjust to a more comfortable position but soon come to realize you're on a hard and rough textured surface.

Slowly you open your blurry eye, you reach up to rub them clear but your hands don't reach them, blinking rapidly the blur subsides and you look around.

Your body goes numb as your met with the sight of your extended biceps, lacking something, most notably your forearms and hands, bandages cover the leftover stumps, you're not bleeding though blood stains the white wrap.

You open your mouth to scream but immediately start violently coughing, throat so dry you can't make a sound.

You turn to your side, struggling as you try to lift yourself, however, you're met with horrible pain shooting through your limbs.

You stop, trying to control your breathing and calm down, the memories of what happened come back, you're kidnapped, and you remember being taunted by some green-haired loon who assaulted you, and then there's a gap in what happened after that.

The pain filling your body is intense and you want to cry but nothing comes out of your eyes even though you feel like you're crying, your breath even hitches as if you were sobbing. 'Calm down, (Y/n), access the situation' you tell yourself, looking around the place, you see you're in a windowless small room, decorating the walls are covered in floral wallpaper, it reminds you of a grandmother's house.

There's a bed in the opposite corner of the room, it's bland and all-white but immaculately clean. There's a small side table with a vase full of pink lillies and baby's breath, and across from the bed is a wooden door, you just need to get out then you can...

That's right, no hands to turn the knob. Everything about the room reminds you of a nursing home, bland as if not to excite too much.

You did notice the wire that sits in front of you, thin black metal bars locking you in, they surround you entirely. It reminds you of...

Oh my God! You're in a dog cage.

No fucking way.

You physically shake your head and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to wake yourself up, but when your eyes open nothing has changed.

There's no way someone was sick enough to put you in a dog cage. Then again, you remember you're missing parts of your arms.

Forcing yourself to turn back on your back you land with a thud and the cage rattles as it hits the wall. Looking down you see the door to the cage, just as you thought, it's exactly like a dog cage.

That's when you notice your legs... Just like your arms.

"No, no, no, nononononono" you keep repeating over and over again, the focus you previously had over your breathing halts and dissipates, replaced with pure fear.

Everything below your thigh is gone, leaving just your plush thighs wrapped up tightly with a bandage much like your arms.

You keep repeating 'no' over and over again, your arms reach up to cover your eyes with your hands, and of course, nothing reaches them.

This only makes things worse, even though you're hyperventilating and sobbing, no fluid comes out of your eyes, mouth, or nose, everything is bone dry.

You jump as the door clicks open, freezing you see the green-haired man. He's taller than you thought, he casually strolls in, closing the door behind him gently.

His eyes meet yours and he grins, as he waltzes towards you scoot as close to the wall as you can, fresh wounds press up against the metal bars but the pain is less intense than the fear you're feeling at the moment.

"Don't hurt yourself now" he says, placing a hand on the top of the cage he crouches down. He sticks a finger through the bars, wiggling it like your a fish in the tank and he's a nosy kid.

"How are you feeling, guinea pig?"

Guinea pig? There is no way he just called you that...

"No need to be afraid, it's all right" he's not sincere at all, you know he's enjoying it, the tent in his pants gives that away.

His erection strains against the white fabric of his pants, it's already leaking precum that leaves a wet spot on his crotch.

You turn your head away and try to avoid his gaze that flickers from your face to your arms and chest, then your bottom half.

You're still naked, body laid out bare for his wandering eyes, his tongue peeks out to lick his green lips.

"Are you thirsty? You lost a lot of fluids" you don't answer, no matter how dry your throat and mouth are. He chuckles "it's okay, I know you are, that's why I brought you some water" that catches your attention.

He pulls out a water bottle, not a normal one... No, one like the ones small rodents are given to drink from.

You bite your lip as he secures it against the wire "go ahead" he encourages, it takes a while before you shimmy closer to the water bottle but it hangs just out of reach.

This is so humiliating.

You force your head to lift, but still, you barely reach the spout, tongue poking out the tip rolls over the metal ball, only giving you a drop of much-needed water.

One, two, three more kitten licks before your head falls back down, and your neck aches painfully.

"Please..." It's pathetic, your voice wavers, tone barely reaching a whisper. Your captor laughs "come on, cavia, you can do it" he's taunting you again "I can-can't, please" it physically pains you to speak. You hate begging but you see no other option.

Sadly, it doesn't work, he reaches a finger through the bars and strokes the metal ball, water drips down making the thirst you feel even more intense.

You once again lift your head, this time attempting to sit up part way, the pain in your thighs extends to your lower half, it feels impossible to bend at the waist as it just brings stinging pain.

There's only one choice, you prop yourself up on the stubs he left behind. The pain is unbearable but you have to fight through it.

It feels like forever for you to reach the spout once again, when you do you wrap your lips around the metal and suck.

Water comes out but not enough, so you run your tongue up the metal ball, releasing more of the water you crave.

You drink as much as you can before you fall back down, thankfully it's enough water for now, it's not ideal but you can't get anymore.

"Oh no, you're bleeding" despite the 'oh no' he has no concern, he seems quite giddy in fact.

You eye the stub, it is indeed bleeding, once you notice it that's when the pain sets in and you bite your lip. "Don't worry, my cavia, I'll take care of you" he coos, standing up he makes his way to the cage door, sliding the locks out of place.

The door opens smoothly and his hands reach in, grasping your hips. He slowly slides you out of the cage, you don't fight it, happy to be free from the constricting wire box.

He's careful not to knick your aching limbs against the sides of the exit.

Once you're free, he takes you in his arms, holding you like a baby "do you see how light you are without all that baggage?" Right, arms and legs are baggage, totally.

You nearly roll your eyes.

He walks you to the bed, setting you down with surprising care. He opens the side tables drawer and pulls out scissors, alcohol, cotton balls, and bandages.

"Let's fix you up" he grabs your bicep and unravels the sullied bandage, the stump is now visible to you, the skin is sewn shut, fresh blood leaks through the thin line in small droplets, the skin is irritated, hot, and painful, a light pinkish color.

Taking the cap off the alcohol he tips it onto a cotton ball "it's not hospital quality but I find it works just the same" he sits next to you, hand wrapping around the remains of your arm, and dabs the cotton ball against the closed flesh. He's gentle but it burns "I know" he croons with condescension "it hurts, doesn't it?"

He can't stop a cruel smile from tugging on the corners of his mouth as he watches your bottom lip quivers.

"You're being such a good girl, you make your master so happy" he praises, laying your arm back down to retrieve the bandages.

He's slow about wrapping the bandage around your arm, he purposefully wraps it too tight, not tight enough to cut off circulation just enough to be uncomfortable.

He does the same for each of your stumps, your legs hurt the most. You gag as the cotton ball meets the closed wound, since your stomach lacks any contents besides its natural acid nothing comes out, but it does burn your chest as the acid tries to escape.

He pays you no mind and continues cleaning and wrapping your thigh before moving on and doing the same to your other thigh.

Finished, he pats your leg, getting up he puts his supplies back in the drawer and closes it. "You did so well" he reaches a hand out to pat your head but you dodge it.

This clearly upsets the man "you'll come to enjoy my touch, I promise... It'll just take more training."

Training... It unsettled you, what exactly does he have in mind?

As if to answer your inner question, your captor reaches into his pocket, he pulls out... Oh God... A vibrator. You look away, your body begins to shake and tears are finally able to wet your eyes. "Don't cry, cavia, master will take care of you, he'll make you very happy" he reassures, bed dipping as he settles above you.

Laying a hand on your thigh he spreads it open, exposing your bare pussy. "Please don't" you beg, he shushes you, petting your head "master promises you'll love this" he brings the small vibrator to your labia, a click of a button turns it on and he teases it against your slit.

He revels the way you shiver and suppress your little mewls of pleasure and squirm, unable to do anything else. You're completely at his mercy, which he has none.

Wetness gathers despite how much you wish it didn't. He runs the tip of the vibe up and down your labia until they swell with desire, begging for more whether you like it or not.

With your growing wetness he slips it between the plump flesh right against your clit and he couldn't have hoped for a better reaction.

It feels so good, you moan and wiggle your hips, trying to get away from it. Pressing harder he watches your thighs stretch as your back arches into the toy. "Please no" your face scrunches up, tears falling down your hot cheek and snot leaking from your nose.

"You can take it, can't you? Yeah, you can because you're a good girl for your master, aren't you?" His hand finds your breasts, rubbing and pinching your nipple.

It feels so good, too good, you can't, your hips thrust against the vibrator, desperate to climax. "Stop" you mumble through your sobs and humiliating moans.

The man licks his lips "you don't want that, do you? You're so wet and eager, you know your place beneath your master" God, was he ever going to shut up? It seems he always has fake praise to sing in your ears.

You rapidly shake your head "nonononono" your close, and you can feel it building up about to release just as he pulls the vibrating toy away. Your abdomen twitches and your hips thrust forward, begging for more.

"That's it, good girl" he leans over, placing a kiss on your sweaty forehead. His hand rests on your chest, feeling it rapidly rise and fall under his palm.

He moves to kiss your tears away, leaving smudged green lipstick all over your face.

He sets the wet toy on the side table, his fingers rub your flushed cunt before sinking two of them in with ease. Your walls tighten, hips pressing firmly against his hand, and you moan loudly, walls clenching and unclenching around the digits.

"Such an eager thing you are" his fingers thrust very lightly, never actually leaving your wet heat. Your back arches and your thighs press down against his hand "stop" it's so useless to beg, you know but there's nothing else you can do, there's not even a chance of running away.

Even though you want it to stop you can't help the rock of your hips against his hand, burying half of your face in the pillow as you moan and sob, squeezing your eyes shut.

His fingers curl and the moan you let out nearly makes him spill into his pants. He bites his lips, green lipstick smearing in his teeth "such a good girl for her master" it's low and breathless, his own hips faintly thrust against nothing, craving the wet heat between your amputated thighs.

He's able to slip his thumb through your tight thighs and rubs your swollen clit, you shake against his hand and finally, you're given your release, walls tighten like a vice around his finger, legs squeezing tight enough to bruise his slick hand.

You relax once it's over, thighs letting go of his aching hand. His fingers curl once again, and his thumb lightly teases your overstimulated clit, you cry and kick your thighs up, trying to get his fingers away from your sensitive cunt.

"Come one, give me another, I know you can do it" he encourages you but you shake your head "no, please, I can't, please," You say like a prayer, snot bubbling from your inflamed nostrils as you beg.

He doesn't listen, of course. How could he when you're just so sensitive and adorable?

It takes only a few more curls of his fingers and rub of your clit to push you over the edge again, you're panting like an animal when it's over.

Your mutilated body glistens with a thick sheen of sweat, Cioccolata can practically smell the salt coming off you. The bandages he just put on are disgustingly wet, you hate it, it feels like when you sweat through your t-shirt while running, clinging to your skin, the sweat is starting to seep into the suture wounds and burns terribly.

He kisses your sweaty chest, hand leaving the sticky valley between your legs to grab your breast and put the nipple into his mouth. Sucking and biting the bud until swollen and hot, irritated by the harsh treatment.

He pulls his lips off but traps your nipple between his teeth, tugging it until you cry out and beg him to let go, chanting 'please,' 'stop,' and 'It's just too much.' Satisfied, he sits up, rubbing your slick sides "you were such a good girl for me" he kisses your cheek again.

It makes your feel weird, he's almost loving, too high from your two consecutive orgasms you nuzzle against his face, earning a chuckle.

He brushes his nose against yours in a so-called 'Eskimo kiss' it's sweet and very sickening. Cioccolata stands, leaving you cold and lathered in sweat, the sheets below you are soaked with sweat, sticking to your back.

Your body relaxes and you're so tired you nearly fall asleep until you feel your thighs parted and something gets pushed past your puffy labia inside of your spent cunt.

You tense, mumbling a chorus of pleads, begging him not to, they are answered with the vibrator turning on, and your walls try to push it out "please, no more! I can't!" Cioccolata audibly moans at your whining, cock painfully hard at this point.

Reaching his hand into his pocket he retrieves the other toys he brought you. Nipple clamps, with an added ball and chain, your eyes widen, you've never had anything clamped on your nipple before, they intimidate you.

Cioccolata sees your scared expression and laughs "they don't weigh much, really" he's not lying but he abused your poor nipples for a reason, nipples are sensitive and the added weight is sure to feel great, wanting to or not.

He squeezes your breast so he can attach the weight without your squirming interfering.

Clasping the first one to your nipple you are met with pain, the metal is cold and presses hard into the bitten bud, it felt like a piercing in the tender flesh.

Letting go of your breast he admires the way your breast is pulled thanks to the attached weight, Cioccolata repeats the same on the other nipple.

He hastily works on his belt and fly, sighing as his drooling cock is finally free from its fabric prison. Wrapping a hand around his throbbing length he runs his thumb across the flushed and leaking tip.

"Fuck, you look so pathetic, you're amazing" he moans out, teasing his aching cock. He watches you writhe under him, cunt soaking the white sheets below along with your sweat, the thick clear liquid of your arousal stains your thighs and labia.

"You're gonna-ah need a bath after this, hu-huh? That's okay, heh, I'll make sure you're- oh fuck- nice and squeaky clean~" he nearly falls on top of you as he pumps his cock, lubing it up with his copious precum, he stabilizes himself with a hand on your other side, knuckles going white as he grips the wet sheets.

"Fuck, I'm close" he moans, hand speeding up, he resists the urge to close his eyes so he can watch as your thighs open and close, the stumps that were once arms stiffening and back arching, breasts swaying with each desperate wiggle, the weights tugging painfully, your nipples puffy as they swell from the abuse.

"I really made the right choice with you" his pace can't get any quicker and his hips try to compensate by bucking into his warm hand.

"Yes, yes, yes, oh Dio, yes!" His voice strains and cum spurts out, sticky ropes hitting the sheet and your torso.

He can't stop himself from thrusting through his orgasm, to prevent himself from falling on top of you he rests a knee on the edge of the bed, stroking soft cock a few more times before finally letting go of his flaccid length.

You on the other hand can't escape the constant stimulation, you are so tired and the pulsing in your sore cunt "please, turn it off!" Your voice is hoarse and you can barely speak through your broken moans.

The man above you pants, eyes half-lidded, his mouth hung open lipstick smeared past his lips from the constant biting and kissing, staining his pearly teeth.

"You're truly amazing" Cioccolata mewls "I've never come so hard in my life, not even with Secco" he admits, relaxing as he drags himself onto the bed, sliding next to you and draping his arm over your shoulders to pull you closer.

He presses his face into your neck, pulling your body flush against his, soft cock still sensitive and pressing against the bandages that cover the sutures on your thigh.

It would hurt if you could focus on it, however, your brain is struggling to understand anything but the painful pleasure he's forcing you to endure.

Cioccolata inhales sharply, taking in your scent, a normal person would be disgusted, you frankly smell ripe and rank, but to Cioccolata it's the most amazing scent in the world, it's like a pheromone to him, he enjoys the fact it's so strong he can taste it on his tongue.

The way he holds you puts pressure on your arm, his firm body trapping the stub between bodies. Your thighs spread and Cioccolata uses that space to slot his leg between yours, keeping your drenched thighs apart and pushing his knee against your cunt, pushing the toy deeper until it hits your cervix.

You use his knee to grind your clit against it, desperate for real pleasure, sick of the teasing of the vibrator. His white pants soak up all the slickness that you rub against them, nearly turning translucent.

"I'm so glad I found you, cavia" he sounds lovestruck, or maybe loved love-drunk is a better term. You see this as an opportunity "please-" you don't finish as he presses his knee harder into your swollen clit, a high pitched moan leaves your lips, and the man who kidnapped you kisses your shoulder "please- heh- take it out- ah" you're barely able to finish a sentence, overcome with the constant stimulation. Cioccolata pulls you even closer "not yet, hold out a little longer" he reaches his hand down to replace his knee on your clit.

Shaking your head you try to tell him you can't take anymore (not that he'd listen) but your voice is caught in your throat as his fingers work you to orgasm.

You struggle to control yourself as you cum again, babbling out pleas for his to stop, you sob and writhe against him. After that you still, the toy still vibrates inside you and your captor's fingers still work your tender clit to the point of rubbing you raw.

"That's it, you're such a good girl" he lavishes you with praise, kissing whatever part of skin he can, you can't move anymore, you're so tired you feel like passing out, you can't even ask him to take it out as your eyelids grow heavy.

He smiles as he sees you fall into slumber, he doesn't remove the toy inside of you, he knows how to break people and pleasure is one way.

Apparently, it works on him too, he's pretty sure he's in love with you. You're his perfect creation, you can never leave him, and with more time you'll never want to leave him.

#dead dove do not eat #reader insert #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #jjba #jojos bizarre adventure #cioccolata x reader #cioccolata

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thatlovinfeelin · 2 years

Text

Flightless Bird | six | Bradley Rooster Bradshaw

Synopsis: Josephine Wilson Miller is alone for the first time in her life. She got married after her first year of college and became a housewife, but that life is gone now. So she runs to San Diego, to her childhood best friend Jake, where she meets the man who could very well be her salvation.

series warnings: unplanned pregnancy, just pregnancy in general, talks of infertility. past mental and emotional abuse. anxiety. talks of women's reproductive systems (idk)

“Here,” Jose handed Jake a new stack of photos, “I had them print an extra copy for you.”

“Holy shit, it looks like an actual baby this time.”

Jake didn’t look up at her as he flipped the pictures over to look at the next. He was right of course, her baby was finally starting to look like a real baby. It wasn’t just a little blob on the scan anymore. She could see its little face and nose now. Little fingers and toes too. She could see her baby. Her baby.

“Lil turd wouldn’t turn around so the tech could see what it is though,” Jose frowned, “They want to try again week after next. Apparently I get even more appointments now that I’m further along. Oh, and I have to start figuring out the birth and all of that, which there aren’t many choices for me to make because I can’t deliver naturally thanks to all of that being a shitfest.”

“Guess I need to switch out the ones in my wallet now,” He smiled, “As far as everything else, you’ll have me there every step of the way if you need me. Supposed shitfest or not.”

“You always know how to flatter a lady, Jake,” Jose laughed.

“Oh hey, Phoenix wanted me to ask if it would be okay if she came over for girl time or whatever. She’s trying to give you space, but I swear that girl is turning into the energizer bunny now that she knows. You girls going into baby mode is terrifying.”

Jose laughed, hard, before throwing a pillow at Jake’s face.

He was still on base when she got back from her twenty week appointment the day before, and she fell asleep before he made it home. Most days she was ready to turn in before the sun even went down. No one ever told her how tired she would be, although she supposed growing a human being was worth it.

The ultrasound made it hard to tell, but she swore the little baby looked like her. She hoped it looked like her, she wasn’t sure if she would be able to deal with looking at a little Michael every day for the rest of her life. She would love it anyway, of course. Because secretly, all she ever wanted was to have a baby, even if she spent the last nearly ten years convincing herself otherwise.

“You’re god awful,” Jose laughed, “Your godfather status is revoked.”

“Yeah okay, who else are you going to trust your child with?” He asked, “Exactly. No one. I’m still the godfather. So, sucks.”

He picked the other stack off of the counter and tacked them to the fridge with a magnet. He figured if Jose didn’t like that, she could take them down after he left for the day. He was still smiling as he went back to fixing his breakfast. Hell, he was so happy even the thought of flying against Mav and Rooster couldn’t bum him out.

“So uh, while you’re all happy, how would you feel about me being friends with one of your coworkers? Or whatever you call each other?” She asked timidly.

His smile turned to a know-it-all shit eating grin as he looked over his shoulder, “Oh, you mean whatever you have going on with Bradshaw? I’m not stupid.”

“How did you?”

“Oh Jose, sweetheart, you couldn’t be stealthy even if you tried. Plus, he’s been looking over this way like a love sick little puppy,” He laughed, “And he’s been in an unusually good mood since you showed up.”

“Why the hell didn’t you say anything?”

He shrugged with his back still towards her, “I’m not your keeper. I figured you’d tell me when you were ready. Out of all of the guys I’d work with, I’d rather it be Bradshaw. He’s a decent human being. Truth be told, he’s probably the best of us.”

She sighed and leaned back against the counter, “I’m goin to have to tell him soon.”

“You haven’t told him yet?”

She licked her dry lips, “He knows I’m married, and that Michael kicked me out…he just doesn’t know why. How could I tell him when I couldn’t even admit it? Is it wrong that I don’t want him to know?”

Jake turned around to face her, handing her a small bowl of freshly cut fruit, “Sweetheart, Bradshaw isn’t stupid. He’s going to find out sooner rather than later. You said it yourself a couple of weeks ago, it’s getting harder to hide. I mean, you look great, but you’re starting to look the part.”

She looked down at herself. He was right of course, and she knew it. Her stomach was slowly getting a more rounded look. She was warned by her doctors that she could pop any day now. Sweatshirts were doing very little to hide it. Soon there would be no going back. But she wanted to be selfish and keep the relationship she had with Bradley. She wished she could just keep her life separate from all of this. But she couldn’t.

“I’ll tell him tonight,” Her voice sounded so sad and small.

Her husband threw her out for having his baby. Jake realized quickly, and yet not fast enough, that Jose thought Bradley would turn his back on her for this. But he didn’t know how he could convince her that he wouldn’t do that. The truth was, Jake didn’t even know if Bradley would stick around or not.

Bradshaw never talked about wanting a family, and after all the shit he went through with his own, Jake could understand. After all, Bradshaw lost his father before he was old enough to remember him, and then lost his mom just as he was entering adulthood. Then whatever the fuck happened with Rooster and Maverick.

“Listen, sweetheart, whatever happens you have me and Phoenix, okay?”

She nodded, “I know. You should get to work, I don’t want you to be late.”

Three hours later, Jake was cruising the skies waiting for the greenlight from Mav. Phoenix and Bob were up with him, and not flirting with his girlfriend seemed to be harder than ever. Something about the way she was so undeniably supportive of Jose made his heart almost burst. The second he told her, all she wanted to know was if there was anything she could do to help. Natasha was worried about Jose, since aside from Jake, she was all alone in this. She automatically made Jake give her Jose’s number so she could text her and tell the other woman that she was there no matter what. Jake nearly cried at that moment. If he wasn’t sure before, he certainly was then, Natasha was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

“Alright Bagman,” Phoenix’s voice came over his radio, “Be alert, alright? Don’t need you getting us killed.”

He laughed and looked down at his control panel. Like many other pilots, he always kept a couple of pictures with him when he flew. The latest ultrasound was now in his cockpit too, replacing the old one. He smiled just looking at it, one day maybe he would be able to take the baby flying. Maybe they would fall in love with the sky too, or maybe they’d prefer the ground like their mother.

“Let’s get this party started,” Rooster’s amusement was evident, “What do you think Mav?”

“Good morning aviators,” Maverick’s voice rang out, “Fight’s on.”

All of the pilots were laughing once they reached the ground. There was no real winner during the exercise. Jake, Phoenix, and Bob gave Rooster and Mav a real run for their money. Before he got out of his plane, Jake carefully tucked all of his pictures carefully in the top pocket of his flight suit.

“You know, Bradshaw, I should be really fucking pissed at you,” Jake told the slightly older man, “Jose was supposed to be off limits. But damn she’s smiling too much to be mad.”

“So you aren’t going to beat the shit out of me?” Bradley questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Not today it seems,” Jake shrugged, “Just don’t fuck this up. That’s all.”

“Hey, Hangman, still on for dinner tonight?” Phoenix asked as they all made their way to the locker rooms.

“Damn right.”

“Good! Don’t forget to tell Jose I’m coming,” Phoenix warned, “And I’m cooking.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Oh c’mon! Phoenix gets to be friends with her but the rest of us can’t even look at the poor girl?” Coyote nearly whined.

“Shut up man, not worth the fight,” Payback warned.

The rest of them went through their routine of showering. Jake tucked the pictures into his locker while we went to the shower stalls. The guys were giving each other an endless amount of shit, just as they had for nearly six months now. After the uranium mission, the Navy moved to make them a permanent squadron, suddenly their orders in Miramar were permanent. Jake liked being here though. He liked the family they created during their training for the mission. Before Jose showed up, they were really the only family he had around.

He just hoped what Jose was going to tell Bradshaw tonight wouldn’t ruin it.

“Hey man you dropped this,” Bradshaw said as Jake was cleaning up around his locker.

Jake turned around, already holding his hand out when he froze in place. Out of all of the pictures he could’ve picked up.

“Fuck man, who’s is this? Sure as hell isn’t Phoenix because she wouldn’t be flying.”

Jake couldn’t say anything. Bradshaw could easily look at the top and see Jose’s name. It was only a matter of time. Jake caught himself silently praying to whatever god would listen to him, just don’t let Bradley see before Jose could tell him. God, Josephine would literally kill Jake.

“Seresin,” Bradshaw said a little more sternly, “Why the fuck do you have an ultrasound in your locker? And who the fuck does that belong to?”

The rest of the group seemed to gather around the two men. Nothing like this happened since the days leading up to the mission when Jake used Bradshaw’s father against him. Jake apologized so many times to Bradley after the mission was over. He didn’t want to be known as that jackass.

“Bradshaw,” Jake pleaded, truly sounding like he was in pain, “Please, man, please.”

Bradley looked down at the ultrasound picture once again, finally looking at the shape of the little baby and then scanning the line of information at the top. He took a step away from Jake, “Fuck.”

Jake could see it, the moment Bradley finally realized. Because Bradshaw’s face hardened. His stance became less relaxed. Jake swore Bradley Bradshaw turned to stone, which scared him more than anything else.

“Fuck you,” Bradley spit, throwing the picture at Jake before turning around.

Jake turned to face the rest of the group, they were all stunned. Maybe even more than stunned. None of them moved, almost as if they were afraid to. Hell, Jake was scared to move. He knew he should text Jose and tell her, or maybe call her so that she’d know. But he couldn’t move. Fuck he just messed everything up.

Jose was waiting on the bench at the park, feeling more nervous than she did when she told Michael. She fixed her sweatshirt just enough that he wouldn’t be able to see her little bump, not without really looking for it. She had the ultrasound pictures in her pocket. Truth be told, she hadn’t been able to stop looking at them all day long. She was starting to really feel connected to the little thing. She could feel the tiniest little movements now too, although she was never really sure if it was gas or the little one saying hello.

“Okay, I need you to listen to me,” She said to her stomach, “I love you, more than my own life. But I think I really care about him too. But if he isn’t good enough for you, he won’t be in our lives, okay? You are more important than any man could ever be. I won’t be like my mother.”

She gently rubbed her hand over her stomach, feeling the little fluttering again, “Okay, glad we’re on the same page.”

She kicked her legs as she waited, unable to sit still. Bradley promised he would meet her as soon as he got off base, which should be any minute. He texted her when they were done for the day. She wished he would hurry up though. Because good lord she felt like she was going to throw up.

Jose was scrolling through social media when Bradley came stomping towards the park. She looked so beautiful, hair blowing in the gentle breeze. He tried not to think about her like that. He felt betrayed, enraged. But she seemed to glow in the late afternoon sun. Or was she glowing for another reason?

“You’re pregnant?” He demanded once he got close enough.

Jose nearly dropped her phone as she stood. Though she moved so quickly that she became dizzy, causing her to grip onto the back of the bench. In front of her, stood a very disheveled Bradley. His chest was heaving, and the way he was looking at her made her heart sink and break all at the same time.

“I-”

“It’s a simple question, Josephine. Are you fucking pregnant.”

He didn’t use her full name like that. Filled with…hate. She could see it in his eyes. He wasn’t looking at her like he had these last weeks. If looks could kill, she would already be dead.

“Bradley,” Her voice broke.

“You are, aren’t you? Were you ever going to fucking tell me? Huh?”

She could feel herself shrinking under his stare. Twenty-one weeks. She didn’t tell him for nearly ten of those weeks. Two months. Two months of meeting at the park, or sitting on Jake’s front porch. She swore she was going to be sick.

“I didn’t know how to tell you.”

He scoffed and turned around. His shoulders were tight. He wasn’t the carefree man she’d come to know..the man she liked or maybe even somehow loved. She could nearly feel the anger radiating off of him. But what she couldn’t see was the fact that he was struggling on the inside not to cry.

He wanted to break, but he wouldn’t do it here. Because he cared more about her than he could put into words. He trusted her with stories of his childhood that he hadn’t told anyone else. He spent more time with her than he did the team. She made him smile, she made him relax. Yet, she lied this entire time. She hid something from him, something bigger than either of them.

“You should have fucking told me,” He still didn’t turn around, he wouldn’t back down.

“I was going to tell you!” Her voice sounded like she was begging, it nearly weakened his resolve, “I was going to tell you tonight, I just…I didn’t know how I felt about it until a couple of weeks ago and I just- I swear Bradley I was going to tell you.”

“Well, fucking Seresin beat you to it when he dropped your damn ultrasound picture for everyone to see,” He hissed, turning back to face her.

He tried so hard not to break at the sight. Her arms were wrapped around her stomach, as if to protect the little thing inside. Her eyes were red from the tears that were falling down her cheeks. He was doing this to her.

He swore somewhere, faintly in the background, he could hear his mother yelling at him. His father threatening to beat some sense into him. It was like their voices floated on the wind. His fists clenched, he wanted to hit something because at least then he would be feeling actual physical pain instead of this ache so deep in his chest. He almost couldn’t stand it.

“I’m sorry,” She cried, reaching for him.

He took another step away, moving out of her reach. His heart broke again at the sound she made. The near wail as she collapsed down onto the bench. He knew he needed to stop and support her. God, he knew that there was so much going on that he didn’t and couldn’t understand. He knew, he fucking knew, yet he couldn’t make his body move. His jaw and fists were clenched so tight they hurt. He was sure his nails were somehow biting into the skin of his palms even though they were too short to even be considered nails.

“I tried,” She cried, holding herself, “I picked up the pieces once. I did it when he threw me out because I wanted this….I can’t do it again. I can’t Bradley.”

He cursed and walked a few steps away. He couldn’t think, because the sound of her crying reminded him so much of his own mother. Suddenly he was a little boy, watching his mom cry herself to sleep everyday because his dad was gone. He was helpless, only this time it was his fault.

He could hear her apologizing over and over as she cried. To him, to herself…he didn’t really know who. She was curled in on herself, almost near a ball on the park bench. Whatever rage was left vanished at the sight. His body turned to jello as he nearly ran to her side.

He scooped her up in his arms, not sure if she even had the energy to fight. She curled into him, clutching onto his shirt. The apologies didn’t stop though, not as he rocked her in his arms like a child. Like the child she would inevitably rock in a few months. He could feel the swell of her stomach against him, he tried not to think about it. Not as he tried to soothe her.

“It’s okay, I got you,” He shushed her, slowly running a hand through her hair.

She was still clutching her stomach with one hand, saying she was sorry over and over again. That’s when he remembered all the things she said about her mother, how there was a constant parade of men and double standards. How the woman never put her daughter first. But most of all, how Jose said she was afraid she was becoming just like her mother. She was afraid of that because she was pregnant, and because he was in her life.

The ache in his chest worsened, because he realized she was telling him all along, in her own way. She was always so careful about what she said, always seemed to change the subject when she gave too much information. She was guarded when it came to her life before San Diego, and it was because of this.

She told him once that Michael kicked her out because their lives didn’t align anymore. That they wanted different things, and something about him making a decision for them at some point that she wanted nothing to do with. He kicked her out because she was pregnant. God, Bradley felt like an asshole, because here he was practically doing the exact same thing. No wonder she seemed so broken. He broke her.

“I’m here,” He whispered to her, holding her tighter, “I promise, I’m here. I’m sorry I yelled at you, but I’m right here. I won’t leave you.”

230 notes · View notes

taylortruther · 3 months

Note

Hey, I wanna improve my Hinge profile, and I totally agree with you that so many are vague and listing really trivial stuff..... but I don't know how to demonstrate my personality without just... listing off my niche interests, which in the end probably don't matter that much? Like it's cool to connect with people over a mutual hyperfixation, but often great relationships involve people getting to know each other's interests. So, do you maybe have some examples of well filled out prompts? Because I'm a lesbian in a small european country so my dating pool is already pretty small and I'm kind of at a loss...

honestly, the niche interests are the best ones! personally, my mindset was not to find someone who wanted to share my interests (although that would be great), it was just to show that i was a well-rounded, curious person! and help people start a conversation with me.

with that in mind: find photos that show you doing your hobbies (if applicable.) like, photos at a scenic view, on a horse, a cute shot of you at a show or library or working on a car, whatever your hobby/interests are. good friends are helpful here to take photos of you if you don't have any lmao

as for prompts, i don't know what prompts you get, but here are some examples from hinge and bumble and i filled them out using real answers from my past profiles! and they all give a sense of my personality (NERD!) - so i don't know if you consider them "good" but they def showed who i am.

i put them them below the jump because i am embarrassed lmao

i'm hoping you... have a good book recommendation, because my 2024 reading goal is pretty ambitious.

a social cause i care about... prison abolition, and revoking the rights of people who don't pick up after their dog.

controversial opinion... black licorice jelly beans are the best flavor. fight me.

(i swear this one was the best conversation starter. people love food and they hate black licorice jelly beans.)

we're the same type of weird if... you frequently wish you could right-click on strangers and change privacy settings to see all their secrets.

(this prompt got a lot of responses from women - they didn't go anywhere, but it started a lot of conversations!)

a life goal of mine... receive an absolutely scathing review of my work on good reads from patricia in ohio.

i'll brag about you to my friends if... you own a library card!

fact about me that surprises people… i'm learning how to refurbish a 1920s remington typewriter. swipe right if you have any spare platen knobs lying around.

if you were a sandwich, what kind would you be? classic pb&j - easygoing, low-maintenance, crowd pleaser... but i'd use pineapple jam just to keep people guessing.

favorite thing to do when you have free time? i love to go to the downtown library, check out a good book, and lounge on the rooftop patio. best kept secret in the city.

#relationships #i know these are silly but like........ do they not give you a sense of who i am? lmao

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angelasscribbles · 1 year

Text

A Fervid Fixation Chapter 6: Conflagration

Series: A Fervid Fixation

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Drake

Rating: MA

Warnings for this chapter: Language

Word Count: 4,159

A/N: This is me officially giving up on predicting the length of this story. 🤷🏻‍♀️

My other stuff: Master List.

Riley jumped as the door slammed behind Liam. She turned back to Drake, “What do you mean I have no idea what I’ve just done?”

“I mean…you’ve only known the charming and polite Liam, the person he is when he’s getting his way.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that you don’t know what he’s capable of! Liam handles things…differently.”

“Differently how?”

“Okay, so take me for example. I’m a simple man, Riley. Straightforward. Nick pissed me off, I punched him. Tariq threatened you, I punched him. Simple. Out in the open. Resolved and moved on from. But Liam? He can destroy a person’s life from the ground up and they never see him coming until it’s too late.”

“Liam wouldn’t-

“Oh, he would, he can, and he has! I’m telling you…you don’t know him like I do! If I haven’t been fired, had my clearance revoked, and been shut out of all our systems by the time he makes it back to the office, I’ll eat my shoes.”

“But…you’re his best friend!”

“Who just betrayed him.”

“You didn’t-“

“As far as he’s concerned, I did and that’s all that matters. I told you, absolute monarchy.”

“What will you do if he fires you?”

“The job is the least of my concerns, Riley. I told you; I have money. I can get by without an income for a while. I can get another job, somewhere else, but…”

“But?”

“But I can almost guarantee he’ll have all my domestic assets frozen by nightfall. He can make it impossible for me to find another job, he can seize this property if he wants to and frankly if he decides to arrest me, I could spend the rest of my life in a prison cell.”

“But you’ve done nothing wrong or illegal!” She protested, “Surely a jury-“

“Doesn’t matter. There won’t be a trail. This isn’t America.”

“Why would he do any of that?”

“Because in his mind, I just took something that belonged to him. Liam Rys doesn’t do tit-for-tat. He goes for shock and awe. Slight him, he will raze your life to the ground.”

“I…I don’t believe you! He’s just hurt right now, he’ll calm down, you’ll see.”

Drake plucked his phone up from the coffee table where she had placed it and dialed. Putting it on speaker phone while it rang, he held it toward her so she could hear the conversation.

“Who are you calling?”

“Jason Toussaint, the Lieutenant in charge of cyber operations,” he answered.

The call connected, “Drake? What the hell is going on? I just got orders to lock you out of all systems.”

“Hey, Jason,” Drake spoke into the phone, “Has my employment been terminated?”

“Yes, and all security clearances revoked,” Jason answered, “What the hell is going on, cap?”

Drake gave Riley an I told you so look before answering, “Has the order been given to freeze my assets?”

“Yes, but I haven’t done it yet.”

“The assets don’t matter,” Drake answered, “but do that last.”

“All right. I’ll buy you as much time as I can, but be advised that your passport has been revoked.”

“Noted. Thanks, Jason.”

Drake hung up the phone and started pacing.

Riley watched him, anxiety spinning her mind in a million different directions. “What are we going to do?”

Drake stopped pacing and turned to face her, “We need to go, now!”

“Where?”

“Anywhere that isn’t Cordonia or a country that has an extradition treaty with Cordonia. His reach ends at the border.”

“Okay, but how do we do that if you don’t have a passport?”

“We get creative!” He smiled reassuringly at her, “Don’t worry, I have a plan! Go pack your stuff!”

It didn’t take her long because she had barely unpacked. When she came back down the stairs, Drake was just hanging up the phone, “Who was that? Is everything okay?”

“I just found out from my contact in MiSHI that the person Tariq was working with is Bastien.” He said grimly, “And there’s only one person he takes orders from.”

“Who’s that?”

“Constantine.”

Riley’s heart dropped, “Liam’s father?”

“Yes, the fucking bastard! This makes it even more imperative that we get out of the country as soon as possible. If Constantine has determined that you’re not suitable marriage material for his son, he will go to any lengths to ensure he stays away from you.”

“Okay,” she took a deep breath as she nodded, “I’m packed, we can go!”

“Me too,” He pointed to a duffle bag laying by the door, “I’ll go grab your bags, you go grab some snacks from the kitchen so we don’t have to stop any more than necessary.”

“On it!”

“There’s a cooler under the cabinet closest to the fridge!” He called over his shoulder as he bounded up the stairs.

Fifteen minutes later their stuff was loaded into the back of a nondescript range rover.

Confusion pulled through her, “Where did that come from and where’s your car?”

“My car is stashed in the garage around back where this was parked. It won’t be easily seen unless someone is looking for it. And they won’t be. They’ll be looking for it out on the road, but they won’t find it because we’ll be in this!” He grinned at her as he dangled the keys, “It was my sister’s. They won’t think to look for her car. I doubt Liam even remembers she had a car before she left!”

“Savannah, right?” she asked as she slid into the passenger seat, “You told me about her. You never told me why she left.”

“Because some fucking duke used her and threw her away like she was garbage!” he climbed into the driver’s seat and put the car in gear as he spoke, “Made a big deal about how she was good enough to fuck but not good enough to marry. Then she found out she was pregnant and was afraid the guy would take her to court and get custody of the kid. And he would have won because he had all the money and all the power. So I helped her move away before anyone here even knew she was pregnant.”

“Jesus…that…that sucks, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay,” he shrugged, “Fuck that guy. She dodged a bullet if you ask me.”

He navigated the vehicle down the rutted-out path and eventually onto a better, but still rough dirt road. It took twenty minutes before they hit pavement.

“So…an officer in the Royal Guard, huh?”

“Yes, the youngest Captain in the history of the guard!” he told her proudly.

“I’m sorry you’re giving that up.”

“What?” he pulled his eyes from the road briefly to look at her, “It’s fine. I did what had to be done. I have no regrets.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because, if titles and money were what you cared about, mine weren’t going to impress you. I’m a captain in the Cordonian Royal Guard, not a crown prince or even a duke. I make good money and I have a small inheritance from my grandmother, but I can’t compete with billionaires.”

“I don’t care about your money, Drake.” She sighed, “I literally chose you over a crown prince, remember?”

That got a smile out of him, “You did, didn’t you?”

She smiled back, “I did.”

“I still can’t believe you did that!” his voice held a note of awe as his hand reached for hers.

She squeezed his back and smiled, “So where are we going?”

“To Hadley Airfield.”

“What is that and why are we going there?”

“It’s an old government-owned airstrip that’s still staffed by the guard, but used primarily for non-military purposes. Crop dusting, running supplies for research missions, shit like that. It’s a low priority for upgrades so it’s still pretty low-tech. I won’t need to swipe a key card to get in, just punch in a code that I’d bet money no one has thought to change, and even if they did, they’d have to physically send someone there to do it.”

“So…what? We’re going to steal a plane?”

He gave her a mischievous grin, “Yep.”

“Wait…seriously?”

“Seriously. An old one that can’t be controlled remotely. Then we’re going to fly right over the border into Auvernall. No extradition treaty and they have an international airport there.”

They would ditch the stolen plane and melt into the masses of people in Auvernall before hopping a flight to anywhere in the world and disappearing off Liam’s radar forever.

“And just who the hell is going to fly this plane?”

“I am!”

“You’re a pilot?”

His grin widened, it was downright cocksure as he answered, “Before I joined the guard, my prior service was in the Cordonian Royal Air Force, babe. Yes, I can fly a plane.”

Five hours later they pulled up to a rusted metal gate and stopped at an unmanned guard station. Drake rolled the window down and typed a code into the box. The gate made a loud buzzing sound and then slid open.

“Told you!” He gloated as they drove unimpeded into the airport.

“I never doubted you!”

He navigated the Range Rover through the airport to a row of metal aircraft hangers in the back. He pulled up next to a small office building and put the vehicle in park. “I have to go inside and check the logs.”

“Why?”

“I need to know which planes are fueled and ready to go. I need to know the flight schedule. The last thing we want is to take a plane with a mechanical issue, not enough fuel or to take off at the wrong time and crash into another aircraft.”

“Okay,” She nodded, “I’m coming with you!”

“No,” he shook his head, “You should stay in the car.”

“And what if someone comes to ask me what I’m going here?”

He rolled that around in his head for a few seconds before acquiescing, “All right. Let’s go!”

A bell tinkled as they entered the office. An air-conditioned blast hit them, a stark contrast to the heat and humidity outside.

A slender, blonde-haired man with a crew cut looked up from his seat at the desk, “Hey, you can’t be in here-“

Drake flashed his badge at the young corporal, “I need access to the flight schedule and maintenance records.”

“Yes, sir!” The corporal surged to his feet, stumbling over his own feet in his haste to produce the records.

After thrusting the requested documents into Drake’s hands, the young man glanced in Riley’s direction.

“Hey!” Drake snapped his fingers in the kid’s face, “She’s not your concern!”

“R-Right! Sorry!”

Drake flipped quickly through some pages on a clipboard before tossing them onto the desktop. He grabbed Riley’s arm and aimed her toward the door, “Come on, let’s go!”

The bell jingled as the door opened again and a lone figure strode through it, blocking the light so all Riley could make out was a silhouette.

Drake took several steps back, pulling Riley with him, “Bas? What are you doing here? How did you know-“

“You don’t think I remember Leo giving us the slip just like this when you were partnered with me during your training year?”

“Shit! Fuck!” Drake kicked at a pile of boxes, sending them toppling over. He pulled Riley closer and put his mouth to her ear so only she could hear, “When I tell you to go, you get in the car and go. Meet me at hanger forty-seven. Got it? Don’t talk. Just nod if you understand.”

She nodded as he discreetly pressed his keys into the palm of her hand.

“This place is going to be swarming with King’s Guards any minute,” Bastien flashed his badge at the corporal and told him, “Go on kid, get out of here before you end up in the middle of a shootout.”

The kid scrambled out the door without a backward glance.

Why are you doing this, Bas?” Drake asked, “I thought you believed she wasn’t good enough to marry Liam.”

“What I believe doesn’t matter, I have my orders, I can’t let you leave,” Bastien reached for Riley’s arm.

Drake moved quickly, pulling her out of his reach, “God damn it, Bas! I wish you hadn’t done that.”

“I’m trying to help you-“

“Go!” Drake spun Riley toward the door with one arm as the other shot out to clothesline the older man.

Riley hit the door running and didn’t slow down until she skidded into the Range Rover. She yanked the door open, clambered up into the driver’s seat, and threw the car in gear, leaving rubber on the asphalt as she careened out of the parking area.

Her eyes scanned the dingy metal hangers as she drove. They each had a number painted on them in now faded yellow paint. When she found the correct one, she drove straight into it and slammed the brakes on.

Flinging the door open, she rushed back to push the sliding doors of the hangar shut.

Maybe that would slow them down. She ran back to the car and started transferring luggage to the plane.

When she was done, she began pacing back and forth across the hangar. Minutes ticked by as she considered going back.

She started talking to herself, “What if he got hurt? What if he got arrested? Fuck!”

She made up her mind to go back if he didn’t appear within the next two minutes. Out loud she said, “Come on, Drake! Where are you?”

Footsteps sounded near the rear of the hangar, and she whirled toward it, ready to run.

Drake stepped away from a small door she hadn’t noticed before. He grinned at her, “I’m right here, Brooks. Miss me?”

“Oh, thank God!” She rushed into his arms, “What happened?”

“I had to knock Bastien out,” he said grimly as he caught her, “he wasn’t going to let us leave.”

“I’m sorry, I know you were close.”

“Yeah, well, he may have been my godfather and he may have loved my mother,” Drake said as he pulled her close and kissed the top of her head, “but his first loyalty was always to the crown.”

“Well, I’m still sorry you had to hurt him.”

“It’s okay, he’ll recover,” he told her as he released her, “But we have minutes to get out of here before soldiers are everywhere. Let’s go!”

He took her by the hand and headed for the plane. He made it to the steps when she pulled her hand away, “Wait! I forgot-“

“There’s no time!”

“Your phone! It’s in the console!”

Shit! He was going to need that to reach his contact in Auvenall. “I’ll get it, you get on the plane!” He reversed direction and pushed past her.

He scooped the phone out of the center console and didn’t bother closing the door as he hustled back to the plane.

Riley was still standing at the bottom of the steps, waiting for him, instead of on the plane like he’d told her.

“Freeze!” The doors of the hanger banged open as soldiers poured into the room, scattering and taking up tactical positions around the area.

Drake pushed her in front of him, “Get on the plane!”

“But-“ she stumbled as he guided her body forward while her head moved around to see behind them.

“Riley! Drake!” Liam’s voice rang out as he stepped past the guardsmen.

Drake spun around, yanking a nine-millimeter Baretta from the waistband of his pants. He leveled the firearm at Liam while making sure to keep himself situated in front of Riley, blocking her from any potential gunfire.

Every assault rifle in the place was suddenly aimed at them as the king’s life was threatened.

“It’s okay, hold your fire!” Liam yelled at them as he held his arms out to the side to indicate that he himself was unarmed. He couldn’t risk Riley getting shot when they took Drake down. “Are you going to shoot me, Drake? Your best friend? Your brother?”

“Is that what you are?”

“You know it is,” Liam replied calmly.

“Did you tell Riley that I was obsessed with her? That I was unhinged?” Drake demanded.

Liam’s eyes slid to Riley’s face then back to Drake, “You have been acting erratically, Drake. Nick…Tariq…coronation night…this! Stealing a plane? Really?”

“Borrowing it,” Drake corrected him, “You can have it back once we’re safely out of the country.”

“This is treason, Drake. Come on, man. Be reasonable!”

Drake’s back pressed against Riley, eyes still trained on Liam as he moved backward, nudging her up the first step. In a low voice, he told her, “Everything I did, I did for you! You understand that, right?”

“Don’t move!” One of the guardsmen yelled as Drake edged Riley up another step.

A rifle clicked.

Riley’s gaze swung around the room to take in the ridiculous number of guns pointed directly at Drake’s chest. “No!” she pushed around and in front of him, placing herself between him and the guns.

“Riley, don’t!” Both men yelled.

She spread both arms out in the air, “I won’t let you shoot him! Liam, please! He’s your best friend!”

“I don’t want to hurt him, Riley, but-“

An officer stepped up next to Liam and whispered something in his ear.

Drake kept the handgun grasped in one hand while the other landed on her shoulder, “Riley, get behind me and get on the plane!”

“No! They’ll shoot you!”

“Riley-“

Liam’s features hardened, “Riley, you don’t understand-“

“No, I don’t Liam! Why can’t we just leave?”

“Well for starters, Bastien is dead, and we have some questions,” Liam replied grimly.

“What?” Drake stumbled back like he’d been struck, shaking his head, “No! No!”

Liam’s face reddened, and his voice was laden with accusation, “You killed him!”

“No! I just disabled him! He was alive when I left!”

“Then who killed him, Drake?”

“I don’t know, Liam, you tell me!”

“Are you insinuating-“

“I’m not just insinuating, Li! You had him killed so he couldn’t reveal your father’s part in the plot against Riley!” Drake accused, then after a moment’s thought added, “And possibly so you could pin it on me!”

Liam’s eyes darted from Drake to Riley, “You’re not buying any of this, are you?”

“I don’t know, Liam.” Her eyes narrowed, “When I chose Drake, you told me I’d just made the biggest mistake of my life. That sure sounded like a threat.”

“When I said you’d made a mistake, I meant by trusting him!”

“But Drake’s been telling the truth about you, Liam, I heard it myself!”

“From whom?” Liam asked in astonishment.

“Jason.”

“Who’s Jason?”

Her confidence wavered, “The Lieutenant in charge of cyber security…”

“There’s no Lieutenant named Jason in the cyber division, Riley.” Liam shook his head sadly then extended his arm toward her, “Come on, Riley, just take a few steps forward and all this can be over.”

Drake’s fingers dug into her shoulder, as he moved up another step, pulling her after him, “He’s lying, Riley! Can’t you see that?”

“No, Riley,” Liam moved his fingers in a come hither motion, “He’s lying! Just take a few steps forward and come here.”

“So…you didn’t fire him and revoke his clearance?” Riley asked, uncertainty coloring her voice.

“Of course, I fired him and revoked his clearance!” Liam exploded, throwing both hands in the air, “he abused his position and literally kidnapped you!”

“I rescued you, Riley!” Drake protested, “He told you himself, he wanted you on that plane that night!”

Riley’s mind spun with indecision. She still had questions, “What about his assets?”

Liam’s brows furrowed, “What about them?”

“Did you have them frozen? Did you revoke his passport?”

“Yes! Because I was trying to stop him from doing exactly what he’s doing right now! Once he gets you out of Cordonia, I won’t be able to protect you! But it didn’t matter anyway.”

“What do you mean, it didn’t matter?”

“I mean…he had no assets to freeze. Why is that Drake?”

Drake shrugged as he adjusted the Barretta in his grip, “I moved all my assets out of Cordonia two days ago, Liam.”

“And why would you do that if you weren’t planning this little escapade all along?”

“Because I know how you operate! I had to protect myself, and her!” He lowered his voice so only Riley could hear, “That’s why I told Jason to do that part last. So it took longer for Liam to figure out I was a step ahead.”

“Me?” Liam scoffed, “I think you’re the tactical genius here.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Drake said evenly as he moved up another step, pulling Riley up with him.

“I mean….I’m beginning to think maybe you were behind the whole setup with Tariq!”

“You think I sent him to do the thing I beat the dog shit out of him for? I never pegged you as delusional, Li.”

“Maybe you didn’t know about that part. Maybe that was all Bas’s idea.”

“Bas?” Drake snorted, “You know he only took orders from one person…your father! And we all know how badly he wanted you married to Madeleine! Speaking of Madeleine, are we sure she wasn’t in on the whole thing?”

“My father is far too sick to be meddling in my affairs. We all know the person Bas would have done anything for was you!”

“What?” Riley froze, almost to the top step.

“Think about it, Riley!” Liam insisted, “He contrived the entire scandal precisely because he knew what the protocol would be, he’s a trained, high-ranking officer after all! And he knew precisely what my reaction would be. He likes pointing out how well he knows me. He’s right. He does! He knew I’d want you out of the country and out of harm’s way while I investigated and cleared your name. It was the perfect opportunity for him to swoop in and play the hero, paint me as the villain. Which is exactly what he did, isn’t it?”

Panic laced Drake’s voice, “Riley, you’re not buying this, are you? He’s twisting everything!”

“How convenient that Bastien is dead,” Liam continued, “He was the only person that could have connected you to the scandal.”

“The only person that could have exonerated me and implicated your father you mean! That is convenient, isn’t it?”

“Riley, come here!” Liam’s voice cracked, betraying signs of his rising desperation.

“Riley, get on the plane…” Drake pleaded.

She hesitated as everything they had both said swirled through her mind. They both made persuasive arguments. She was never going to know the truth either way. How well did she really know either of these men?

There was one thing she did know for sure though, “Liam, I know one thing...”

“What’s that?”

“I know you’re a liar!”

His arm dropped as shock coursed through him, “What?”

“You told me you loved me! You told me you were going to marry me! You fucked me in the hedge maze and then you turned around five minutes later and got engaged to another woman while letting me be drug out of the palace under armed guard!”

“That was different! I’ve explained why! I have to think about Cordonia, Riley!”

“I understand that Liam. I do.” She nodded.

His body sagged with relief, “Good. Okay, come here,” he held his arm out toward her again.

She stepped back, her body pushing Drake up another step, “But…”

All the stress rushed back into his body, “But?”

“But I need a man who puts me first and Drake has proven he’s more than up to that task.”

Liam’s mouth fell open, “Even if he’s a liar and a murderer?”

“He’s not, Liam. You’re wrong about him!”

Drake took one more step back, into the plane then dropped the gun as he yanked Riley inside and slammed the door.

“Goddamn it!” Liam kicked fruitlessly at the ground.

“Sir?” The officer in charge of the scene approached him as the plane’s engine roared to life, sending half the contents of the hangar flying through the air.

Shouts of “Cover! Cover!” pinged off the walls as Liam was yanked backward and drug to safety.

Men scattered and dove out of the way as the plane taxied out of the hangar and onto the runway.

“Sir!” The commander yelled, “We can still stop them! We can aim for the pilot or the fuel tank!”

Liam watched as the plane picked up speed. He shook his head, “No, if the pilot’s dead, the plane will crash, if it loses all its fuel, there’s a chance it gets airborne before it runs out and plummets to the ground.”

He still wasn’t willing to risk her life.

“But sir-“

“It doesn’t matter,” Liam sighed as he watched the plane climb into the air. He still had one play left, “Get me Isabella Achilles on the phone. Now!”

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