#Cause of how many papers we had to write

[tetheredfeathers]

Macbeth and Snow as parallels (a comparative analysis on ambitious protagonists)

Collins is no stranger to Shakespearean references, whether through character names or the deeper parallels that emerge between her characters and those in Shakespeare's plays. This is especially evident in the striking similarities between Coriolanus Snow in The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes and the main characters in Macbeth, where their ambition ultimately leads to their downfalls.

At the outset, both protagonists show potential. Macbeth begins with a relatively clean slate, while Snow is (debatably) portrayed as a morally grey character. Snow's narcissistic tendencies surface early on, as seen in his disdain for everyone around him and his deep-seated resentment of his own poverty. He believes he is entitled to wealth and power, much like Sejanus. Snow's entitlement is also evident in his condemnation of Tigris when she implies that she might have sold her body to feed their family. He begins to harbor skeptical feelings about her. Though Snow’s selfish and narcissistic tendencies are apparent from the beginning, they remain largely internalized, leaving his true nature ambiguous.

Macbeth and Snow heavily parallel each other at the beginning of their reign.They both encounter a major turning point—a moment of epiphany where they become so entangled in bloodshed that there is no return. For Snow, this moment occurs when he kills the tribute, Bobbin. Although the act is driven by desperation and survival, the way he kills is undeniably cruel. Snow chooses to brutally murder Bobbin even after the tribute is incapacitated and poses no real threat. This shift changes Snow's motivation from self-defence to pure hatred, reflecting his view of the districts as barbaric and savage. Similarly, Macbeth’s major turning point comes in Act I, Scene VII, during his soliloquy when he resolves to kill King Duncan. This decision marks the beginning of his irreversible descent into bloodshed and tyranny. This leads us to a common thread among literary antagonists: their ambition often ignites in a crucial moment of life, where they feel wronged or misunderstood.

So, we ask ourselves now, why is that one scene so crucial, and if it is, who is to blame—the circumstances or the person themselves? In other words, nature vs. nurture. Were Snow and Macbeth simply victims of their environments, or did they always harbour the potential for such destruction?

As we have already established, Snow exposes his corrupt disposition early in the book. He is willing to destroy, use, and manipulate anyone standing in his way, which is heavily focused on in his internal monologue. Each minute action is calculated and executed accordingly. In the scene where a tribute kills Lavinia, Snow's response is a striking reflection of his character. Instead of reacting with immediate panic or concern for Lavinia’s well-being, Snow remains unnervingly composed. His first instinct is not to help or comfort the person in distress but to deliberate on how his actions might affect his public image. As Lavinia's body writhes, Snow’s focus is on the potential repercussions of the situation rather than the immediate human tragedy unfolding before him. Snow’s pragmatic, calculated nature is evident right here.

Similarly, Macbeth’s nature is inherently ambitious, which is hinted at through the witches' prophecy that eventually drives him to regicide: "I have no spur to prick the sides of my intent, but only vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself and falls on the other." (Act 1, Scene 7) However, an observation can be made: Macbeth’s actions are only executed after being persuaded by Lady Macbeth. At the very beginning, Macbeth is constantly unsure of his actions and needs to be swayed by external forces. So how much of Macbeth’s nature can we hold accountable?

We see at the beginning that the witches are the ones who plant the seed of ambition in his mind. Even more so, Macbeth’s initial reaction to the prophecy is curiosity; it is the witches who nudge him down that path, which he might have otherwise not taken. Another critical factor is Lady Macbeth’s manipulation; her relentless questioning of his masculinity pushes him toward the edge. It can be said that Macbeth is more of a victim of external forces. It is also plausible to say that Macbeth’s initial ambition might have remained unchecked, and thus would not have committed regicide.

Naturally, we ask ourselves the following question: Was Snow a victim of nurture? Snow makes it very clear from the beginning that he is not here to play the game, but to control it. Despite the cutthroat politics in the Capitol, Snow finds a way to be cultivated by his environment instead of being exploited. Take Snow’s relationship with Doctor Gaul—time and time again, he goes out of his way to obey Dr. Gaul, to the point where he submits his best friend to her. He is not a victim but a willing student. In contrast to Macbeth, Snow lacks guilt and shows little to no moral conflict in his decisions. And hence, being devoid of guilt and hesitation makes Snow not a victim of his nurture but a product of it.

Circling back to the topic of guilt—we find ourselves in the position to ask whether Macbeth’s guilt is his greatest weakness. Macbeth’s guilt and paranoia begin immediately after his murder of King Duncan. He is plagued with insomnia and hallucinations as his guilt manifests, and he descends into madness. As his paranoia and guilt fester, he begins to act out of fear rather than necessity. His ability to think straight and calculate his actions completely erodes by this point. Macbeth certainly does not achieve that prosperous reign, but his guilt is one aspect that humanizes him and allows the audience to relate to him.

But what of Snow—was his lack of guilt and empathy his greatest strength? Snow certainly reigned for a long, prosperous period—longer than Macbeth could, that’s for sure. What was it that upheld him for so long? What did he possess that no other antagonist before him had? The answer to all our questions rests in one quote: “You take your own humanity out of the equation. And then you’re free to do whatever’s necessary. It’s the only way to be safe.” This is it—Snow’s dire philosophy encapsulated in one line. Snow completely rejects the idea of humanity; notice he uses the word "free." It is almost as if Snow views humanity as a burden, something that is tying him down, from which he wants to be freed. So, is rejecting humanity the only way to achieve such a long rule? Is it really a strength?

While we can certainly say Snow avails a longer rule than anyone that came before him, Snow’s lack of guilt and empathy is a double-edged sword. It most certainly helps him make swift, calculated decisions without bringing his victims' emotions into the equation, but it ultimately destroys him in the end. It is his incapability of understanding Peeta and Katniss’ effect that annihilates his rule. “Hope is the only thing stronger than fear. A little hope is effective; a lot of hope is dangerous.” Snow recognizing hope is accurate, yet it is his lack of empathy that blinds him from seeing the uncontrollable aspect of hope. His approach to overcoming hope is to manage it—notice I use the word "manage." His perception of hope is in a very technical manner, just like we see in The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. Snow is prone to formulating plans, and thus, he uses this approach on Katniss as if she is just a step along his plan. But his failure to truly understand the power of hope is what leads him to make decisions that only spark the rebellion even more.

In conclusion, ambition is a powerful force in shaping the paths of literary antagonists like Snow and Macbeth. While their environments certainly played a role in nurturing their darker tendencies, it is their inherent ambition and how they choose to wield it that seals their fates. Macbeth's guilt humanizes him, making him a somewhat tragic figure who is ultimately consumed by his ambition. Snow, on the other hand, thrives by rejecting humanity altogether, but this very rejection blinds him to the power of hope, leading to his eventual downfall. Both characters remind us that unchecked ambition, whether fuelled by internal desires or external influences, can lead to self-destruction.

[roronoa-luffy]

one again thinking about how jjk couldve been really good...... alas

[dejwrldarchived]

⤷‧₊˚ could you imagine having a wet dream about your hot neighbor?

┊ •° ੈ ⋆° ┊ warning readers discretion is advised — female anatomy described, her/she pronouns, written with black reader in mind, pet names (good girl), oral fixation, oral (f.receiving), dirty talk, biting kink, backshots/doggystyle position, spanking, anal play (i mean he put a thumb in it that's it), marking kink, profanity, i think we should write smut about men in explicit mangas some more, mentions of a wet dream, wet dream is in italics, slight pervert!reader, repost from old account, mdni

You couldn't help but stare at him when you saw him. You remembered how your eyes lit up with curiosity seeing him move into the apartment next to yours. An apartment with many tenants who moved in and soon quickly moved out. A rumor traveled around that a ghost resided in that apartment, but you never cared to gossip about said rumor. You just went to work and came home. It was a sad cycle that you’ve done Monday through Friday. Occasionally when you would be leaving for work, you'd see him. The bags under his eyes are as heavy as he’s taking his trash out to put into the apartment’s trash bin. His whole demeanor oozed sex appeal even though he would be the type of man your parents would usher you to stay away from. 

He was a handsome man, and when you laid down to sleep, you only seethed in jealousy, hearing faint moans through the thin walls. A regular neighbor would march over and bang on the door to tell their neighbor to keep it down—but with you, it felt like your body was stuck. You stared at the ceiling indulging in the sound of the way he pleasured this woman. That jealous pit twists in your stomach, realizing that you have most likely been crushing on a taken man this whole time. But it didn’t make sense, you hadn’t seen a woman enter or exit his place when you were around. Either or, you still thought that it should have been you to have the privilege of cooing out his name the way this woman was. 

You could do better. You know you can. 

You may have been in a significant drought, but you were positive your plush lips could kiss him better. Your mouth could wrap around his cock better. You could move your hips while riding him better. But then again, this woman had to have something you didn’t if he was making her feel like this every night. 

You took your pillow over your head to scream into it. The heated feeling between your thighs caused you to roll over on your side to force yourself to sleep. You were only torturing yourself by continuing to be a pervert and listening to him pleasure another woman. Before you could utter a string of complaints to yourself, your body finally relaxed for you to fall into a deep slumber—a poor attempt at ignoring the walls through the paper-thin walls. 

Your body stirred in your sleep as you felt something under the thin lilac-colored duvet that covered your body. You felt something wet upon your thighs as if somebody was nibbling on the flesh on the inside area of your thighs. You attempted to squirm tiredly, but the grip upon you grew tighter. With your hand rubbing the sleep out of your eye, you lifted the duvet, and your eyes nearly bulged out your head seeing him. His eyes filled with so much hunger it sent a chill down your spine. With the oversized t-shirt you usually sleep in pushed up to your waist, you watched as the flat of his tongue glided upward and downward on the clothed part of where your pussy lips were. Even though your underwear was blocking the pleasure feeling of his tongue—you still felt yourself grow wet at the feeling. 

Your next-door neighbor Totsumoto Yuushi didn’t waste any time dragging your fusion-colored panties down your smooth legs to get a taste of you. The flat of his tongue dragged across your puffy pussy lips just to finally relinquish in the taste of you. His darkened eyes met with yours through the little light that shimmered through the window from the moon. You relaxed in his touch as soon as you felt the first flicker on your clit. Your breathing hitches in your throat before you cough up moans and your fingers tangle into his black hair. Before your eyes lolly in the back of your head, the last glimpse you got was of Totsumoto’s eyes shifting close as he finally wanted to focus on his main task. 

Totsumoto’s tongue glides around the entrance of your drooling cunt, and he even could feel you clench, feeling him teasing you. Your thighs were seizing close due to the intense feeling of him between your thighs, but he just pinned them back open. You even heard him moan as he continued to eat his meal. He didn’t leave a drop of slick for him not to savor. The blood rushing to his cock with each kitten lick he’s making on your pussy or each flicker and suck on your sensitive bud. Your juices stained his face, but he could care less when it was a mouthwatering meal right before him. 

Your body arched off the mattress as you failed to run away from your pending orgasm. Your stomach began to form the most satisfying knots for Totsumoto to untie, but he pulled it away. He shortly let his lips drag kisses and bites on the inside of your thighs. He removed himself away from your pussy with a satisfying pop. 

“I want you to cum on this dick, Y/N.” His voice rasps. “I know you want the same thing, right?” Totsumoto tilts his head to the side slightly as if he’s letting his head rest on your bite marks-covered thigh, and his eyes never stop looking at you. 

Totsumoto’s words hit you like a truck with each continued kiss and bite. Your brain felt like complete mush as you realized he snatched your orgasm away from you in the blink of an eye. With his cock on hard, he kisses up your body until his face is just inches away from yours. Him being on top of you but also sure not to squash you. You could feel his cock on the inside of your thigh. Just by how it felt—you could tell it was fat. You’ve had your perverted thoughts during a hot morning imagining how his cock looked. Was it long? Was it girthy? Was he circumcised? How pretty was the tip? You’ve asked yourself that constantly. 

He’ll inch closer to your lips. Through your stare of desperation for him, you watched him lick his lips—savoring in the aftertaste of your pussy before he spoke once more, “How’d you want it? Since you’ve been a good girl while I was between your thighs….” 

Teasingly, he’s letting his teeth nibble on your plump lower lip instead of giving you the satisfaction of a heated kiss. 

“I’ll let you choose.” He adds. 

And that’s how you whine up on all fours with a perfect arch and your cunt eager to swallow Totsumoto’s cock. You figured that if you were to do missionary, you’d become cock drunk for the gentleman immediately. His callous hands grabbed at your waist, dragging you closer to him; you could feel the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance. “Just relax, pretty, sure you fit around me perfectly,” Totsumoto assured.

He’s collecting saliva in his hand to coat his girthy cock with, even though he could see how wet you were for him through his dark locs that fell in his face. His hand gripped your waist, similar to how a person would with some bike handles. He completely braced himself for the waterfall he was about to experience. First, he’s shoving his tip in—slowly, just so you can get used to it, savor it. A wonderful feeling he could get used to. Second, he’s gradually shoving move of his cock inside you. This time he’s taking note of how your manicured fingers grasped at the sheets. 

“I thought you could take my cock, hm?” He’ll teasingly ask. 

You couldn’t even answer his question before he’s immediately plowing forward. No regard for getting used to his size when the wet cunt in between your thighs was enthusiastic for more. You’ll moan out his name like a song you knew from heart. The lewd sound of heated skin slapping against each other adding on to your tune of moans. It created a sweet melody that Totsumoto enjoyed hearing. It motivated him to fuck just a little better, a little harder. 

Your pillow was beginning to stain with your salty tears with each ram of his hips. You only had the opportunity to let out broken moans that bounced upon the thin walls of your bedroom. Your hand went back behind you to slow down his abrupt thrusting, but that only led to him swatting your hand away as if it were a fruit fly flying around a garbage can. At this point, you had lost count of how many times the two of you had cum. The sticky mess that imprinted your thighs didn’t stop Totsumoto from continuing what he was doing. The white ring that decorated his cock only turned him on even more. His eyes lazily droop to gaze at your pussy, swallowing his cock. It was an intoxicating feeling how you were clutching around him. Which each pull back on his cock—he could feel you tremble. Hurriedly, wanting to run away from his jabs but ever so eager for him to fill you up some more. 

“You were waiting to feel my cock weren’t you?” He growled lowly. He noticed you didn’t answer his question, only purring out desperate moans. The dark-haired male took that as a challenge. His large hands that once were on your plush love handles would press down your back, ensuring that you wouldn’t break the perfect arch. 

Totsumoto’s fingertips trace alongside the flesh of your ass. His hand slaps at it, and his actions' ripple effect causes his cock to twitch inside you. His body felt like he was running a fever so hot that he could most likely faint. His jet-black strands of hair were sticking to his sweat-coated forward, but even if his hair drooped low in front of his intoxicating deadpan eyes—he still couldn’t take them away from the mess between the two of your bodies. His strokes were beginning to grow sloppy as his body finally overheated due to his lewd actions. 

You knew that the older gentleman was so close to cumming. His grip on your waist tightens, completely entrapping you from running away from his brash thrusting. It took you by shock feeling his thumb insert instantly into your asshole. Your body tensed up, and he leaned down to place the sloppiest set of kisses on your back. “It’s just a thumb unless you want it to be something else.” He hungrily said. 

His words sent a frightening yet exhilarating chill down your spine. Your fingers grasped the crumpled sheets on your mattress as you met his thrusting halfway until the both of you were a cumming mess. You’ve had your fair share of sleeping with men. From horrible hookups to the best lovemaking, no one ever made you feel like this when you were orgasming. You felt like you were on the highest cloud attempting to climb down all by yourself. Your limbs quivered with each sloppy cum coated slam upon your ass, and your moans became so frantic that someone would have thought you were speaking in tongue. The messy mess that imprinted the two of your skin wasn’t as bad as the mess when his cock hesitantly removed itself from you. Totsumoto’s thick cum dripped out of your cunt as he let your body collapse on the mattress below you like a personal used fleshlight. You could hear his breathing returning to normal as he let his fingertips drag alongside your sweat-coated body parts. 

“Sleep tight. You’re going to need it for when I return.” His words came out like a whisper.

When his fingertips left your body, you felt cold without his touch. You were utterly addicted to his touch, and you needed more. However, your shaken limbs and depleted body said otherwise.

Exhaustion overcame your body as the only thing that could be heard in the room was the sound of you trying to control your breathing. Your eyes became droopy, and you realized that he just gave you the best dick you could imagine, that you instantly fell into a deep slumber.

The annoying sound of your alarm caused your eyes to open instantly. Your phone was practically yelling at you to get up to start your day. When you pressed the snooze button on your phone, you glanced at the time. You still have a couple more minutes—perhaps you can attempt to fall asleep to continue the dream. Your panties already were damp, and your nipples hardened in anticipation due to it, but no matter how comfortable you got or how tightly squeezed shut your eyes were—you couldn’t fall back into that deep slumber. There you were, staring at the ceiling, thinking about him, and once again, the horrible feeling of him not being able to pleasure you outside of your perverted wet dreams swirled around in your mind. 

A knock could be heard from your front door, causing your thoughts to disappear— just like the dream you had last night. You climbed out of bed to answer the door, mumbling coherent words about who could be visiting you so early. It was most likely another salesman that wanted to sell something. You opened your front door, and all the annoyance in your body disappeared. There, your neighbor Totsumoto Yuushi stood at your door holding a box. 

Your words were stuck in your throat as your fingers toyed with the ends of the oversized t-shirt you wore to bed. Totsumoto’s eyes traveled down your body, staring at your boobs, and he took a mental note of how your nipples poked through the thin fabric of the t-shirt you were wearing. He cleared his throat to clear out the tension in the air. 

���The delivery guy put this outside my door, and it belongs to you.” Totsumoto’s deep voice croaked out. 

“Thank you.” Your arms extended for him to drop the package in your arms.

Instead, he wiggled past the small gap between you and your cracked door and directly placed your package in your house. He walked out of your apartment and glanced down at you. The scent of him went by you, and you could feel your knees weaken. 

“I’m going to get going now. If you need anything, just knock on my door.” His lips form a sly smile before he walks down to his apartment. 

You closed the door when he was no longer in your eyesight. Your back pressed upon the door as you slowly slid down it—if only he could get you the one thing you wanted the most. 

And that was for your wet dream to come true vividly. 

[evilwickedme]

It's so clear to me that so many so called "anti Zionists" - especially the non Palestinian goyim - have no idea how the Israeli election system works, and how bibi remains in power, and why we had five elections in like, three years, despite elections supposedly being every four years - because he couldn't keep a government stable enough to stay in power. Bibi netanyahu is MASSIVELY unpopular, and his approval rate has tanked even more since the war started, even among likud voters, the people who vote for HIS party (although their approval rates ranked less than the rest of the population). He has an extreme right wing government because if he didn't cooperate with right wing extremists and haredim he straight up wouldn't have the majority he needs to be our prime minister in the first place. He's been on trial for corruption for years at this point, and tried to completely restructure the judicial system just to avoid prison - leading to nearly a full year of protests until Oct 7. Luckily it didn't end up passing.

If elections were held at any point in the last five months since this war started, not only would he not be PM, we'd straight up have a center-left government. My recent transformation into a Yair Golan stan account is a joke but also 100% real - according to polls from the last three months or so, if he does what he's campaigning to do, leading a combined avoda and meretz party, he'd get enough votes to have an actual influential left wing party in the government for the first time in decades. An unbelievable amount of Israelis are calling for bibi to resign, many of them not calling for it to happen after the war ends, but right now.

I am sourcing this information from polls conducted by channels 11 (kan), 12, and 13, as well as by the Israeli democracy foundation, all but one of our important news channels - channel 14, the last channel, is our equivalent of fox news, and despite their numbers often being extremely different due to what is in my opinion biased reporting and flawed methodology, even they at times have had to admit that gantz is currently leading in the polls.

(Disclaimer that I work for a company that provides subtitles for channel 13, but i do not directly work for channel 13. Channel 13 leans mostly center left, and employs several (self identified) Arab Israelis in front of the camera, including Lucy Aharish, who makes considerable effort to bring Palestinian and Bedouin perspectives to her show. It also employs at least one massive racist though.)

I write this post because I keep seeing an unsourced claim by goyim that there's a poll showing a high rate of approval - 88%! - of the destruction and/or deaths Israel and the IDF are causing in Gaza. I went down a rabbit hole and simply couldn't find a poll asking about approval of deaths or destruction, although maybe I was looking up the wrong keywords? As a result I have just... So many questions. Because with the information I have from trustworthy local news sources, from the news channels I mentioned above and papers such as yediot aharonot/ynet and Haaretz, it doesn't fit with current public opinion, including many recent protests for more efforts towards a ceasefire. So my questions are thus -

Who conducted this poll? Was it a think tank, a government agency, a paper, a news channel? If so, which one? Are they left leaning, right leaning? Was it conducted by an Israeli or foreign institution?

Who did they ask? Was it a sample of likud voters; all Israeli adults; did they include only Jewish Israelis or also Arab citizens (approx. 1.5 million out of our 8 million population), Bedouins, and other minorities?

When was the poll conducted? Was it in October, immediately after the Oct 7 massacre, before the death toll in Gaza grew? Was it conducted more recently?

What, exactly, did they ask? Did they ask about destruction in general, or about the death toll in particular? Did they ask about the attempts to rescue hostages with military means, or all military actions? Did they ask about the number of Hamas operatives dead, about their estimated ratio of Hamas to civilians, about the total deaths?

What was the size of the pool surveyed? Was it conducted on a few dozen, a few hundred, or a few thousand people?

Because without this information, that one, sole statistic is essentially useless. As Mark Twain said, there are lies, damned lies, and statistics. Always look at the source and ask: who asked the questions, who got asked, and what the questions were.

More specific statistics and sources under the cut.

I did find one survey by the Israel democracy foundation that asked if the IDF should take the Gazan suffering into account - an entirely different question, although it did still have a horrific 89% Jewish Israelis and 14% Arab Israelis and Palestinian citizens who said they shouldn't. That said, the pool they were drawing from was not very large - 500 of the interviews were conducted in Hebrew, 100 were conducted in Arabic. Also, of the people who supposedly said that they shouldn't, a little more than half of both populations said they should "somewhat" take it into account - that is, they didn't say they shouldn't take it into account at all, just not make it their first priority. This survey was conducted mid December.

In another survey by the same source with a slight larger sample size (a little over 600 Jewish Israelis and a little over 150 Arab Israelis), an insanely low 15% still wanted Bibi to be the PM, with the only candidate who received more than 6.5% being the center candidate Benny Gantz, who historically has tried to cooperate with center and left parties, with a whopping 23% of the votes. The survey included 10 candidates, as well as five other non candidate options. 4% voted "just not Bibi", and an actually insane 30.5% voted they were undecided. Only a quarter of those surveyed believed Bibi would manage to maintain a coalition after the war, a number that includes more extreme right wing voters, and only the ultra Orthodox haredi population had a majority of people (60%) who believed he can. This survey was conducted in January.

The channel 13 news survey from early March - barely over a week ago! - covered more specifically which parties would manage to get into the government and how many seats they would get, as under a certain amount of votes you simply do not get seats. Not all seats get into a coalition. According to their poll, the amount of seats the likud would get is halved, from 32 to 17, while gantz's the state camp would grow from 12 to 39. While currently meretz gets 4 seats and haavodah do not get enough votes to get a seat at the table so to speak, a combined haavodah and meretz under Yair Golan gets 9 mandates. In total, the right wing only get 47 mandates, well short of the amount of mandates necessary to create a government.

Channel 12's corresponding poll from January shows 35 mandates for gantz, and bibi had 18 mandates. Channel 11, in the same month, gave gantz 33 mandates and bibi 20.

I also sources an English Jerusalem post article which reports on channel 14's polls; jpost is a right wing biased paper, and yet even they report 36 mandates for gantz and 18 for bibi as of February.

Sources

The Israel democracy institute: 1 (English), 2 (Hebrew), 3 (Hebrew)

Haaretz: 1 (English) (paywalled)

Channel 13: 1 (Hebrew)

Ma'ariv: 1 (Hebrew) (reporting on channel 12)

Podcast which summarizes the above article: 1 (English) (includes transcript)

Kan 11: 1 (Hebrew)

Jpost: 1 (Hebrew)

[houseofceline]

My Pretty Girl - T.N.

Starry Eyes

Pairing: Ravenclaw and sort of ditzy but talented Reader x Slytherin notorious playboy Theodore Nott

Warnings: None (yet ;))

“Starry eyes

What can I do for your attention.”

Summary: Theodore’s late to class but Snape blessed him with the opportunity of sitting next to a cute Ravenclaw who’s no help at all.

1 >

--------------------

Clockwise or counterclockwise? 

You honestly didn’t even know anymore. No matter how many hours you spent on reading the thick potions textbook or wasting bottles after bottles of ink on notes you still barely passed the class. 

You were starting to get a headache from trying to picture the text in your head. Everything was starting to become foggy. You sat down, defeated, and began doodling on the parchment instead of writing detailed instructions on how to make the stupid potion. So much for a Ravenclaw. 

Hmm off shoulder or puffed sleeves?

 You bit your lip trying to decide which option would look better on the dress you sketched out. The classroom was calming with little chattering among your classmates in the back allowing you to work easier. You could never work or do anything in silence, it drove you crazy. 

Suddenly the door slammed open causing you to jump a bit in your seat. 

“Nice of you to join us Mr. Nott, although your presence was expected half an hour ago,” Snape drawled out in his infamous monotone voice. 

“Sorry I overslept,” he shrugged while adjusting his tie. Some students who were listening in laughed. With his messed up tie and ‘burn marks’ on his neck, it was clear that he was definitely doing more than just sleeping. 

Snape nodded and pointed at the empty seat next to you, not surprising anyone that he didn’t take away any house points from his house. 

Theodore eyed you as he walked towards your table. He would’ve preferred sitting with his house, but he could never pass up the chance to sit next to a pretty girl. White blouse with a lace neckline and sleeves, black plaid skirt, Ravenclaw tie, black sleek hair, and a white headband. You didn’t fit into the usual type of girls he went for, but you were cute. 

Theodore took the seat next to you before tapping on your shoulder. 

You turned to him and almost jumped when you found his eyes on you. Gorgeous blueish grayish eyes. 

So pretty, this might be my new favorite color. 

“So uh,” Theo cleared his throat ignoring the fact that he swore he just saw your eyes sparkle, “what are we doing?” 

You blinked. Under the pressure of a somewhat attractive boy it made your memory much worse. 

“Umm, we’re brewing a potion and writing?” 

You had hoped that didn’t come out as a question and hoped that he’d just nod and ask someone else. 

Theodore raised an eyebrow and glanced at your blue tie again. 

“Which potion exactly?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at you as if you were lying to him. 

“Antidote to potions. Wait, no poisons. The common one. Wait, maybe the uncommon ones. Well I don’t think there’s a big difference. I mean, shouldn’t the uncommon ones be stronger and still fix the common ones?” You rambled on, looking off to the side lost in your own thoughts. 

Theodore blinked. The sorting hat rarely makes errors, maybe you were high but then again Lovegood’s also a Ravenclaw. The looney population in Ravenclaw must be high. 

“Why can’t they just make a super strong potion that fixes every poison? That’d make our jobs easier and we wouldn’t have to memorize so many potions,” you giggled as you turned back to your sketches. 

Theodore looked over your shoulder to try and catch a glimpse of your paper but instead your sketches caught his eye. You may be no help in potions, but you sure can draw. 

“Are you going to make that?” He asked while you squirmed at the close proximity of his face to yours. 

“Yes,” you mumbled shyly, scared of the criticism that might follow. You loved designing and fashion. It was one of the only things that came naturally to you, but coming from a family of doctors you were vulnerable to criticism for not following in their path. 

“Cute,” he said before his eyes found your potions paper. 

Common poisons. Theodore noticed that you only had half the page completed and chuckled. 

He got up towards the ingredients cabinet and grabbed his ingredients and the ones you were missing. 

Potions came easy to him. Not only did the teacher bias his house, but his mother was a skilled potions maker as well. Matter of fact her entire side of the family were. He had spent most of his summers in his manor reading journals of potion experiments and advanced information that weren’t even in his school textbooks. 

He quickly prepared his ingredients and started on his potion while continuing yours on the side. Luckily you were both in the back and Snape couldn’t catch him. He wrote down his notes and instructions making a mental note to tell you to copy them down later. You’d need it. 

Maybe he was also placed in the wrong house. Today, Hufflepuff seemed more fitting. You were lucky that you’re cute. 

[misotsukiiyeooo]

"Just one more?" Part 3

Pairing:Husband!Father CSC x F! Mother!Reader

A/N: I'M BACKKK!!! After the polled votes came in I immediately started to write lmao! This one will also be a bit longer since it's the last one...or is it? jkkk unless...Enjoy!

Genre: Fluff (Hint of crack)

Word count: 16.6k (Not proofread sry)

Synopsis: After Seungcheol finds out you're pregnant, again, the whole experience has been, tender, lovely, and well....shocking

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

3 Months Later

Everything with Seungcheol has been so perfect. Well, this is your fourth kid but that's what made the experience even better.

He already knew how to help you with your cravings and everything.

Telling the rest of his members was also fun. Of course, Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Joshua ran up to hug you first.

And telling your children was also exciting with Seojun, your oldest son hugging you while Jieun, your second child blabbers on how she's going to dress up the baby. Your youngest, Dohyun just smiles handing you a toy to play with him.

Today, You and Seungcheol are so excited because you can finally find out the sex of your child.

"Babe, we're going to be late!" He's rushing you, clearly he's more excited than you are.

"I'm coming hold on!" You grab your sweater and wave goodbye to your kids and thank Seungkwan once again for watching them.

Seungcheol holds your hand as you walk down the stairs. "I'm only three months, Cheol..." He still treats you as if you were going into labor this instant.

"I know....but we still need to be careful" You look at him while he continues to talk nonsense.

Entering the car, he closes your door; going to the driver's side.

"What do you think the gender is?" You ask him, curiously. "Hm, probably another boy. But whatever the gender is, I'll love them either way." He looks at you fondly.

"You're so cheesy! But I think it'll be a girl because we just had a boy and it seems like a pattern." Seungcheol thinks about it, nodding. "You're probably right, but there's only one way to right out." He starts the car.

As you enter the hospital, you are greeted with warm smiles. "Hi, I had an appointment for an ultrasound today." The nice lady behind the desk looks at you. "Oh yes, Choi Y/n was it? Please fill out these papers and bring them back to me."

She hands you some medical papers and you take them, walking to a seat where Seungcheol's already at.

After filling out the papers you hand them to the lady to take your seat again but before you even sit back down, your nurse calls you in.

"Choi Y/n?" She calls out. "Yes?" You both lock eyes, smiling. "Follow me right this way."

You hold Seungcheol's hand, excited and nervous to find out the sex.

You are seated in the reclined seat while Seungcheol stands beside you. "So you're finally three months! You're here to find out the sex, right?" You nod.

The nurse puts the cold gel on your belly causing you to twitch. You look at the screen above which shows the ultrasound.

"Seems like your baby's doing well." She continues to look at the screen. Her eyes widen, causing you to get scared.

"Is something wrong?" You and Seungcheol both look at her. "I'm afraid I'm not able to say anything. Only the doctor could, and she shall be here shortly." She exits.

You feel anxious, many negative thoughts running through your mind. 'Is the baby sick?' 'Is the baby alright?'. Taking you out of your thoughts, you feel Seugcheol grip your hand.

"Everything's going to be okay, alright?" Just the right words you wanted to hear.

A few seconds later, the doctor enters. "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Choi. Is everything alright? I just received some information from the nurse who was here, and I want to check it out for myself."

"If you don't mind me asking, what's wrong?" Seungcheol asked, looking quite nervous himself.

The doctor now looks at the screen. "There seems to be two babies in here."

"What!?" You and Seungcheol both say in unison.

"How's that possible? When I came here two weeks ago they said they only saw one?" You're utterly confused.

"You are quite early in your pregnancy so mistakes like this can occur, especially with the babies hiding and such. But yes, look here," She points to the screen. "There's two babies in here, congratulations. You're having twins!"

You're both left shocked, mouths gaped. "I'm not mad...however I'm just in shock." You let out, not knowing whether to be excited or in tears.

"What are their genders?" Seungcheol pitches in. "I'm sorry I almost forgot to even tell you. This one's a girl and the other's a boy." The doctor points at the screen, identifying each baby.

"A boy and a girl?!?" You still can't believe this.

"Yes but if you'll excuse me, I have another patient that needs to be checked. If there are any more questions, you can ask anytime, take care and remember not to stress too much." The doctor exits and you sigh, now facing Seungcheol.

"You did say you wanted another baby" He smiles. "Yeah, but I didn't expect to have babies!" You both look at each other, breaking the silence with laughter.

"I'm a bit scared though...we have to get two of everything and more stress, more waking up at night, more everything! And no wonder I'm so huge at only three months!!" Seungcheol wants to let out maybe even the tiniest bit of laughter but knowing how hormonal you are, he could never do such a thing.

"It's going to be alright baby, you need to remember; that I'm also here. I would never let you do this alone." He holds your hands.

"Hm...You're right, I'm sorry but still, these are two babies!" You let out. "I can't even imagine the boy's faces when I tell them," Seungcheol said.

Arriving home you see Seungkwan and the kids playing together. "You sure you don't want to have your own kids?" You rest your hand on your hip, smiling at him.

"No, most definitely not. I'm good as a fun uncle, not a father." He lets out a chuckle causing you to also laugh.

"Well, I have some news...we're having twins!!" His face has shock written all over it.

"Twins? Twins!!" Seungkwan rushes over to you, hugging you tightly. "Kwan...the twins, remember?"

He made an 'o' shape with his mouth and then let go, apologizing.

"When are you going to tell the rest of the boys?" Seungkwan asks. "Maybe tomorrow? I can't wait to see their faces!"

Seungcheol comes back from the kid's room after putting them to bed while you are talking with Seungkwan. "Well as much as I love to stay and talk with you, I have to get home. Practice is pretty early for us." He looks over at Seungcheol.

"Right, get home safe Seungkwan." Seungcheol waves as you walk Seungkwan out.

After saying your goodbyes' he left; leaving you and Seungcheol alone. "I still can't believe everything that's happened today..." You hug Seungcheol who already has his arms open for you.

"I know, I'm even more excited now that I know it's twins," he says as he kisses your forehead, then your nose, and finally your lips causing you to giggle.

"Should we get ready for bed? You also have a long day tomorrow you know." You said earning a pout from him. "But I wanted to spend my day with you and the kids tomorrow..."

Smiling at his cuteness, you play with his hair, "How about we visit you during practice? We do have to tell the boys about the twins."

"I do like the sound of that." Seungcheol kisses you once again before you head off to bed.

Next Day

You wake up to an empty bed. However, you do see a post-it note on the side dresser.

'Good morning my beautiful wife, I made breakfast for you and the kids ;)'. Smiling at the note, you get off of bed and freshen up for the day until your kids wake up.

As soon as you got out of the bathroom Dohyun, your three-year-old was walking up to you. Slowly but surely.

"Mama, where dada go? I went to room but no one there" He has his hands in a shrugging position while shaking his head. 'Aw this cutie' You thought.

Taking him into your arms and pampering him with kisses you, finally answer. "I'm sorry Dohyun, dada went to work. Do you want to go surprise him later?"

He doesn't let even a second go by before yelling out excitedly, even waking up the rest of the kids. "Dohyun...you woke me up..." Jieun walks out rubbing her eyes while Seojun's just a couple steps behind her.

"I'm sorry kids, but Dad made you guys breakfast! So after eating, we can get dressed to see him at work."

They both look at each other, then you. "Does that mean we can see our uncles too!!" They say in unison happily.

"Yes, you can but, not if you don't eat breakfast." Seojun and Jieun race to the table to eat the food Seungcheol made in no time.

After driving to get some food, you finally make it to Seungcheol's workplace.

You enter the elevator with the kids. "Mommy, I'm so excited to see Uncle Gyu!" Jieun jumps excitedly.

"Hm, and why is that?" You ask. "Because he's so tall and I can pretend like I'm flying!" She puts one arm up as if she were.

"Well, it's a good thing we're here now." You all exit the elevator and they're already used to the place; running to the practice room before you can even get there.

As you approach, all you can hear are indistinct screams of joy.

Entering the practice room you see all the boys surrounding your kids. Seungcheol notices you immediately and grabs the food out of your hands.

"Babe...why didn't you tell me you were downstairs? I could've helped you with the food." He pouts.

"It's okay, Cheol. It wasn't that heavy." Seungcheol still takes the bags.

"Y/n!!" Mingyu runs to hug you but slows down; eyeing you. "Wow..." You laugh at his face.

"I know, right?" You affirm, moving toward him to offer a reassuring hug because he was too hesitant to do so himself.

"Uncle Gyu! Carry me, carry me!!" Jieun wastes no time asking for what she wanted this whole time.

"Ms.Jieun, please keep all arms and legs in the vehicle at all times." Mingyu bends down so Jieun can go on his back. "Prepare for take off!!" As he runs around the practice room with Jieun, you take the opportunity to head towards everyone else.

"Hey guys!" They all look at you, waving, smiling, and coming up to hug you.

"Thanks Y/n for the food!" Soonyoung thanks you while taking another spoonful. "You're welcome!"

Dohyun walks to Wonwoo- calmly sitting on his lap, you've always noticed Wonwoo was his favorite uncle. Probably because they're both calm people.

And Seojun simply talks with his favorite uncle, Seokmin. He knows how crazy Seokmin is; however, he just finds him enduring.

You sit with everyone, patiently waiting to drop the news. "When are you going to tell them?" Seungkwan whispers next to you. You hit him for whispering too loud, "I'll tell them now..."

You eye Seungcheol, signaling to him that you are ready to tell them. "So guys...I actually have some news." They look at you confused on whether it's good or not.

"Is something wrong?" Jeonghan asks. "Well, no. It's just shocking."

"Tell us, tell us!" Chan grows impatient.

"So, I went to my ultrasound yesterday, and turns out...I'm having twins!!" You finally let out.

Many expressions were shown but you can tell they were all happy; just shown in...different ways.

Mingyu, Soonyoung, and Seokmin literally jump like animals.

Minghao, Jihoon, Wonwoo, and Vernon congratulate you with the biggest smiles.

Junhui and Chan both sit down in shock.

And lastly, Jeonghan and Joshua run up to hug you, again.

"I'm so happy for you!!" Joshua tells you. "Oh my gosh! We can make them just like me and Seokmin!" Everyone pauses; looking at a happy Soonyoung.

"Or maybe not." He shuts up completely as we all laugh.

The rest of the day was spent with the kids playing with their uncles while you talked it up with the ones who weren't occupied.

6 Months Later

Everything has been going well with you carrying twins and all.

Your best friend, Seungkwan threw you a baby shower with the help of your parents.

Your kids felt the twins kick, and Seungcheol almost cried.

Seungcheol even decorated a whole room for the twins. And now you're 9 months pregnant and shopping at the mall.

"That dress in that store looks cute! Let's go Cheollie." You hold your back as you walk into the store.

Grabbing the dress in your size, you head to the changing room, Seungcheol steps behind you.

You managed to successfully put on the cozy dress but taking it off was a hassle. "Cheol? I need help."

He comes into the changing room worried. "What happened?" He asks.

"Nothing too serious I just need help taking off my dress." He lets out a sigh of relief and helps you.

As he lifts up the dress a bit you pause.

"Cheol..stop."

He looks at you puzzled, but lets go.

"Either I just peed my pants or I think my water just broke..." Eyes widening he panics. "Your water broke?!?"

You simply nod, panicking yourself. Out of all places, your water broke before; it's never been at a mall.

You knew you were going to give birth at any point just not right now!

"We-we have to go!" You groan at the contractions. You both try to walk out of the store but get stopped by security.

"Ma'am you can't leave without purchasing the dress." He puts an arm out.

"Add it to my tab, I'll call this place later. It's an emergency." Seungcheol holds you by the waist attempting to calm you before you yell at this man. But the guy once again has his arm out.

"That's what they all say. I'm afraid I can't let you leave without paying."

That's it

"My water just broke and it just so happens to be I was trying on this dress! So if you don't want two fucking babies coming out of me in this store I suggest you listen to my husband and let us fucking go!!" The security's eyes widen, looking you up and down and gulping.

"Well, I'm sorry for not reading the room. Please, go on and give birth to your twins.." He finally moves his hand and you and Seungcheol rush out of the place.

Entering the car, your screams only get louder and louder. "We're almost there, Baby. Almost there.." Seungcheol holds your thigh while driving as fast yet safely as possible.

You make it to the hospital and Seungcheol does the talking for you. "My wife is going into labor." He attempts to stay as calm as possible.

"Come right this way." A nurse brings you to a room while you're very much in pain.

Multiple nurses enter now as your contractions are getting close. "Ms. Choi, breathe, just breathe."

Did she really just tell me that?

"What the hell do you think I'm doing?!?" You counter back. Seungcheol smiles at the lady apologizing for you.

The pain was unbearable, those twins were really doing a number on you.

A doctor finally walks in, "Hello, your contractions are pretty close I see, I'm going to need you to push."

Push!?! Can't she see I can barely even breathe?!?

Seungcheol holds your hand as you are preparing to push.

"And 1, 2, 3, push!" Said the doctor. Only screams were heard; everything felt hazy you didn't know if you could even do it.

"You got this, Babe. Just keep pushing." He never once left your side as you continued to push.

"Just one more Ms.Choi-There we go. A beautiful boy!" The sound of the newborn baby crying calmed you in a way that brought you back to your senses.

The nurses took that baby to clean him while you still felt in pain. "One more Ms.Choi, you got this come on."

"I-I I can't. I can't do it" You felt exhausted, this was serious pain.

"Y/n, look at me- Look at me. You need to push; I know you're tired but there's still our daughter in there waiting to be brought into this world. So push!! I'm right here for you." Seungcheol's words help you realize, you have to keep going.

For the sake of your daughter.

You push as hard as you can, taking breaks, tears leaving your eyes, and even sweat dripping from your forehead.

But that didn't stop you from completing your mission.

And with the last push, your daughter was finally out. "Congratulations Ms. Choi, you did well."

You drop your head on the pillow, and tears of happiness and pain keep escaping your eyes. "You did it Y/n...it's all okay now." Seungcheol kisses your forehead and those are the last words you hear before falling into deep sleep.

After some time, you blink your eyes open only for them to be set on Seungcheol holding two babies in his hand. Tears of joy leaving his own eyes.

"Oh look, mommy's up! let's go say hi." He walks up to you so you can see your children.

"They look perfect, right?" He said as you can't even keep your eyes off them.

"I know, they must've gotten that from me." You chuckle at your newly found confidence. "I think they did." He adds on giggling himself.

"What should we name them?"Seungcheol asks you. "Hm..I don't know yet..."

"How about I name one and you name the other?" He proposes. "But they should rhyme, no?" You ask. "If you want them too."

"Well then, what if...she's Jisu and...he's Jiho?" You pitch in, pointing at each kid, waiting for his response.

He nods, "I think it's perfect. Jisu sounds cute like her and Jiho sounds manly like this handsome boy here." He kisses they're cheeks.

"Jisu and Jiho it is."

Reqs are open!!

This adorable divider is by @dollywons !!

Taglist!!

@jjunie-0 @minminghao @honglynights @allieyaaa @bath1lda @black-swan-blog27

[xoluvx]

lunch; b.eilish .˚₊✩ part two ✩₊˚.

i could eat that girl for lunch 

part one

"Are you nervous?" you asked closing the door to her room. This was happening. Like actually happening. You were in her room. The door was closed. All things that had happened before, but now...you'd agreed to help her feel what it's like to be with a girl and goddamn were you nervous.

"Not one bit. I've watched porn," she smiled big and you scoffed rolling your eyes. Yeah, she was trying to lighten the mood but you were far too deep in your head to laugh.

"Oh honey, you're going to find that's not realistic," you placed your hands on your hips and Billie bit her lip sitting up in bed.

"So show me realistic," she teased scooting to the edge of the bed.

"Before we go any further, sign this" you reached for your tote pulling out a piece of paper. You'd typed it out the night before. A contract of sorts.

"I will not fall in love with you. I will not ruin the friendship. I will not use my new found skills for bad, only good..." Billie did that thing where she laughs but it's only a loud noise, then she ran a thumb over the corner of her mouth, and nodded. She signed the paper sloppily before handing it back to you.

"Thank you," you grabbed it putting it back in your bag.

“Okay so now we fuck or what?” There was a hint of teasing in her voice but you knew deep down she was asking a genuine question. There was no guide book for what the two of you were doing. Maybe because you weren't suppose to be doing it.

You chuckled and shook your head.

“Not yet. I just-“ you grabbed her arms looking down at her seriously now. “-I just want to make sure this is really what you want.” You stared at her waiting for that reassurance. You didn't want to be the reason you had a fall out. You couldn't lose her.

Billie’s face softened and she smiled nodding.

"Okay, so why now? Why experiment now?" You were curious. She'd displayed gay tendencies. Hell, her outfits alone wouldn't have made you second guess her sexuality. She had girls drooling over her every where she went.

"I guess I've always been curious. I've just never done anything about it," she shrugged nonchalantly.

"Why not? You're Billie motherfucking Eilish. Do you know how many girls would be lined up right now to give you all the experience?" You chuckled slightly when you saw her blush. She looked down wiping the corner of mouth not knowing how to respond because yeah she could probably have any girl she wanted.

But something made her want you.

"Can I show you something?" she asked reaching for her phone.

Your brows furrowed as you waited patiently taking a seat next to her.

"I was watching a video," she cleared her throat. You side-eyed her knowing what she meant by video. Porn. She'd been watching porn. Just like she'd said earlier.

The melody filled the room and you nodded to the beat. Then it stopped. She played a voice recording. Her voice echoed through the room.

She's takin' pictures in the mirror Oh my God, her skin's so clear Tell her, "Bring that over here" You need a seat? I'll volunteer

Your chest tightened as you listened to the words, but then a smirk formed on your lips.

"Oh my god, you're so gay" you beamed in a totally not offensive 'that's gay' way, but in a 'damn you're actually gay how did you not know' way.

Billie blushed chucking her phone somewhere. She didn't look at you. She played with her hands as you spoke again.

"When did you write that?"

"A while ago, but I’ve been working on it," she admitted finally looking at you. Her eyes were sincere and her lips were forming a small frown. You felt her pain in your heart.

"And you didn't tell me? I'm your best friend, why didn't you tell me you were having these feelings?" you scooted closer trying to provide some sort of comfort. Instinctively, your fingers brushed against her cheek.

"You're so open about your sexuality, I didn't want you to think I was just hopping on a trend or something. Especially after Lost Cause," her voice trailed off on that last part and you nodded understandingly recalling the backlash.

"Well, your experience is your experience. Everyone else can suck it," you pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and your breath caught in your throat when she looked up at you with her full blue eyes.

"Can I kiss you?" she asked sheepishly. You balled your hand in your lap, fingers picking at your skin nervously because it was happening. It was happening.

"Yeah," you whispered, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. Every fiber of your body felt chills.

Billie leaned in to kiss you. Your noses brushed for a brief second before your lips touched. It was a soft and short kiss. When she pulled away she smiled. You cupped her face and she dove in for another kiss. Your fingers gripped the back of her head as she rested her weight on your thighs, fingers digging into your skin.

"How do I touch you?" she whispered against your lips and you froze. Right. Right, how could she touch you? That was your job. You had to teach her.

Oh dear god, it was happening you were going to fuck your best friend. This was not a drill.

"Take off my shirt," you whispered trying to keep your composure. Billie nodded reaching for your shirt. When the tips of her fingers touched your skin, you bit your lip. She pulled the shirt over your head staring at your breasts.

"Did they get...bigger?" She goofed squeezing the air furrowing her brows in an 'I'm totally helpless' way.

You laughed pulling her in for another kiss. This time, she pressed her body on yours feeling your naked skin on her fingertips. Her hands ran up your arms and under your bra straps. She pulled away to search your face for approval.

"You can touch them," you assured.

She let the straps fall down your arms, fingers pulling on the fabric covering your breasts until they were free. She marveled at the scene. The way they moved each time you breathed. The way she could physically see your nipples growing harder just from the cool breeze.

She traced the curve of your breast with her index finger and could see the goosebumps forming on your skin. You followed the movements of her hands now squeezing them softly like she didn't want to break you.

"Lay down," she whispered breaking the silence. Following her instructions, your head hit the pillows, arms reaching under trying to grip on to something. Anything, because her lips were hovering over your breasts and oh my god she was licking your nipple.

You looked down at her, mouth open. She was looking at you. She'd been looking at you the entire time. She watched the way your brows furrowed as she licked, then sucked. She watched the way you gasped when her mouth left your nipple and found the other one. The cool air brushing over the areas where her tongue once teased.

Holding your breasts, she kissed down your torso. Her lips barely touching your skin, but burning every point she encountered.

"Can I-" she started talking, tugging at your shorts.

"Yes," you gasped and cleared your throat. "Yeah, you can take them off," you confirmed trying to collect yourself.

The air struck your thighs when she pulled off your shorts. She stared at your covered pussy before looking up at you. You weren't sure if going all the way was the right move today. Especially since she was looking at you like a deer in headlights.

"We can stop," you spoke propping yourself up on your elbows to get a better view of her.

"No," she shook her head staring into your soul.

"Are you sure?" you didn't want her to feel pressured to rush into anything.

"I've never been more sure of something," she tried to chuckle at the corny remark, but was unsuccessful. She wasn't joking.

She felt an adrenalin rush when she first heard you moan. It was the hottest thing that filled her ears and she was the reason for it. She'd inserted a finger tentatively and watched the way your head tossed back at the gesture.

“Right there, Billie,” you moaned as she worked her finger into your pussy again watching your face for signs. She watched and waited for every time you moaned or arched your back. You were looking at her now. She watched the way your lips parted when she pushed in another finger.

"Is this okay? How many fingers?" she asked and you shrugged still filled with pleasure.

"It depends," you informed. It really did depend. Two was fine for now.

"Is this good?" she asked again as she sped up a little. You nodded biting your lip, groaning when she curled them upward. Something she'd read about the night you told her you'd teach her.

"Are you going to cum?" her eyes were big as she looked up at you waiting for any signs of a possible orgasm. You just chuckled and shook your head.

"No. Not yet. You'd know," you reached down to push her hair back so you could continue seeing her face. She looked so cute and lost, but determined. She furrowed her brows still pumping her fingers. Should she put another in?

"How?" she asked resting her head on your thigh. The whole moment felt pure somehow. You hoped she felt as safe as you did right now.

"I'd feel tight," you touched her cheek now resting your head on your arm serving as an additional pillow. "Have you had an orgasm?" you asked and she instantly blushed looking away, biting her lip.

"Only when I've touched myself and I bust in a few seconds," she confessed as you held her jaw forcing her to look at you.

"Sometimes I want to cum right away, but it feels good to hold it," she looked at you questioningly. "The orgasm is so much stronger," you hum. She nodded storing that information for later.

"So what do you think about when you touch yourself?" you asked never breaking eye contact as she continued fingering you.

"Lots of things. Porn. Sometimes," she shrugged a little.

"You," her voice small now.

"Me?" you laughed a little and leaned back to look at the ceiling.

"Yeah, sometimes. You're hot," she chuckled and you nodded your head approvingly. That was quite a confession she'd made. It made your heart soar and your pussy flutter.

Billie kissed your thigh and you shut your eyes. Her fingers slowed as her thumb tried searching for your clit. When you gasped and tugged on her hair, she smiled triumphantly. Her thumb rubbing circles on your sensitive bud.

"You're learning," your voice playful and high pitched, head still tossed back on the pillows as she pushed her fingers deeper.

She hovered over you, eyes searching yours before kissing you. It was a feverish kiss that mixed with the pleasurable heat between your legs making you see stars. You moaned into her mouth and she trailed kisses down your jaw and on your neck.

The moment felt a lot more intimate now.

This couldn't be good.

You pushed the uneasy feeling aside finding her lips, fingers tangled in her hair.

It'd be okay. Totally totally okay. You'd signed the contract.

part three

[sugar-phoenix]

cowboy, you have a hard time wrapping things up neatly. ✦

synopsis: Boothill doesn't do things quietly. He's loud, and messy, and he likes doing things his way. Even though these all annoy you somewhat, the cowboy starts growing on you. And then one day, he does something unexpected. tags: f!reader, f/m, no smut, fluff, light angst, mentions of Boothill's past a/n: 2.5k words, this was a lot of fun to write. hope you guys enjoy it!

ao3 link here!

Your heels clacked as you walked down the halls, the ground littered with bodies and empty bullet shells. You sighed. Unlike Boothill, who left the remains of IPC soldiers and his mark everywhere in the form of bullet holes dotting the walls, you preferred to do your work neater, quieter. His loud whoops and hollers echoed down the corridor from ahead, making you cringe.

There were many things Boothill was in excess of. Too fierce. Too exposed. Too gleeful. Too loud.

You were not fond of loud.

“I got the place cleared for you, ma’am.” Boothill’s voice rang out like a bell.

“I noticed,” you responded, turning into the server room. In front of you, server towers loomed overhead, blinking with a million eyes. “You’re not very subtle, cowboy.”

“Subtle? Why would I wanna be subtle when I could strike fear into the heart of the IPC?” Boothill chuckled.

“Being subtle can be pretty scary,” you mused, going to the main terminal and typing the code you were given. “What could instigate more fear than an invisible threat you can’t see?”

“I dunno. I like to think that knowin’ who your enemy is and knowin’ that nothing can stop him is way more scary, lady.”

Boothill sank his pistol into his holster, then strode over to where you were standing, the sound of his body moving like oiled machinery.

“After all, ain’t knowin’ how you’ll die the most terrifyin’ thing of all?”

“Touché,” you conceded, scanning the database for the folder you wanted. Boothill waited at your side, and you felt a little shock that the man who was, only minutes ago a whirlwind of gunmetal and gleaming sharp teeth, could now stand so still.

Finally, you found the folder you were looking for, and you loaded it into a drive you inserted into the terminal. Boothill had offered the use of his own ports as a way to store the data, but you had refused. Data was no good to you if you could not parse through it with your own eyes.

“Alright, we’re done here,” you said as the download finished. “Let’s get out of this place.”

The cowboy at your side said nothing but smiled, flashing his razor teeth. You both stepped out into the hallway, only to be met with a new squadron of IPC guards.

“Looks like they sent the calvalry,” you remarked.

“Yeah? Well, if you know anythin’ about cowboys, you’ll know that we don’t take kindly to calvalry.”

And with that, he was off, shooting and hollering and kicking. You ducked back into the server room, letting the cowboy have his fun, and shook your head. When the sound of gunfire had stopped, Boothill leaned around the corner.

“‘S all clear! I took care of ‘em.”

You stepped out to find a pile of bodies and more bullet holes in the walls. Well, I guess this time it couldn’t be helped.

“What’s wrong? You don’t like my handiwork?” Boothill commented at your slightly dismayed expression.

“Cowboy,” you sighed, “you have a hard time wrapping things up neatly.”

He only laughed, a rough raucous sound that reverberated down the hallway as the two of you made your exit.

✦✦✦

You stood in the middle of the ballroom in a shape-hugging red gown, fanning yourself with a paper hand fan. Eyes searching the surrounding crowd, you looked for the familiar cowboy hat. You found Boothill standing against the back of the room, looking absolutely miserable in his suit. A smile creeped up your lips. It took a lot of hemming and hawing to get him to wear that suit.

“I need my body bare, otherwise I’ll overheat,” he’d said.

“Boothill, darling, it’ll just be for the night. You’re going to cause an uproar if you just walk in with that sorry excuse for a jacket. It would be absolutely scandalous. We need to be subtle tonight.” You had adopted the pet name after a few missions with him. The two of you were slowly becoming fond of each other.

“What’s wrong with a little ruckus?” Boothill had asked. “I like ruckus.”

“I know you do, but just this once we could do without it. Come on. You get to cause ruckus every other mission we’ve had so far. You can live without making noise just this once.”

To your surprise, he conceded, taking the suit from your hands and walking to a room, muttering and cursing under his breath.

Now you felt a little sorry as you watched him. He looked like a dog that had been forced into a humiliating outfit just for its owner’s enjoyment.

Your eyes met, and you flashed your fan over your face. The signal. You had gotten what you came here for. Relief flashed over Boothill’s face, and he made his way through the crowd to you as you started walking towards the exit.

You stopped abruptly when you saw the exit.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” Boothill asked, then, “oh,” as he saw what caused you to pause.

The archways were lined with more security guards than either of you had remembered when you first came in.

“They know we’re here,” you whispered. “They’re waiting to catch us on the way out.”

Boothill said nothing. You saw the calculations happen in his crosshair eyes. Slowly, he smiled, revealing his shark teeth in a devilish grin.

“Oh Boothill. No.” You said with dread.

“Oh but we don’t have much o’ a choice, do we?” he whispered. “Just let me do what I do best, darlin’.”

You looked at him, and he caught the worry in your eyes.

“Don’t worry ‘bout me. I always get out, don’t I?”

You sighed.

“Fine.”

Boothill smiled wider than he had the entire night, and stepped away from you, making his way back into the crowd. You reached under the slit in your dress, hand on the dagger strapped to your thigh. The feeling of the hilt under your hand grounded you. It wasn’t long until you heard three deafening gunshots, and glass raining down from above. Chaos and panic erupted, and over all of them, the familiar laugh you’d grown to love. You watched as the archways were flooded, and the guards rushed towards the cause of the ruckus.

Taking the chance, you merged in with the panicked crowd streaming outside the ballroom, as more gunshots echoed behind you. Once you were out, you rushed to your sports car, and got into the driver’s seat. It roared to life as you turned the ignition, and you took it out of the car park and drove it to wait in front of the entrance. Panicked partygoers ran around your car, but your eyes were focused on the entrance. The way you white-knuckled the steering wheel would definitely leave imprints.

“Come on, come on,” you muttered. “Come on, cowboy.”

A beat passed, then two, then ten, and Boothill was nowhere to be seen. You got anxious, watching the large golden arches that led into the ballroom with the giant crystal chandelier that hung above them outside.

Just when you were about to accept that Boothill had been captured, or worse, dead, he emerged from the entrance, a crazed grin on his face, his expensive suit torn in shreds. You sighed in relief. Just before he reached the car, he turned around, aiming upwards, and pulled his trigger. Five bullets flew through the air, severing the chains of the giant chandelier. The guards chasing Boothill were trapped in the ballroom as the light fixture fell to the ground in front of them, shattered glass scattering everywhere. Boothill cackled, then leapt over the hood, taking his seat in the passenger side. You wasted no time flooring the gas pedal, the car screeching away from the ballroom.

“Should teach those muddlefudgers not to waste money on showin’ off,” Boothill laughed.

You rolled your eyes, smiling.

“Hard time wrapping things up neatly,” you said.

“That’s just my trademark, darlin.’”

The two of you glanced at each other, grinning wildly, as your car sped into the night.

✦✦✦

You gazed out the windows of the Astral Express. The endless expanse of space unrolled before you, a landscape of endless opportunities.

Boothill had been called to the Astral Express for a favor, and he thought you should tag along.

“They’re a pretty cool bunch, you should come meet ‘em. Who knows, they might come in handy for ya in the future.”

You didn’t need the cowboy’s persuasion to come and meet the famed Nameless. You were more than happy for a chance to come face to face with these trailblazers, to converse with them and see how they operated.

The Astral Express crew surprised you at first. They were less of an organized team and more like a ragtag family of people from all different walks of life. Pom Pom, the little conductor of the express, scrutinized you for a bit until they sniffed (disapprovingly or approvingly you couldn’t tell), and announced, “Pom Pom welcomes you aboard the Express.”

Soon after, you got to meet the rest of the Express crew. There was March 7th, the cheerful girl with bubblegum-pink hair. There was Dan Heng, the quiet, reserved young man who often kept to himself in the Astral Express' database archives. There was Stelle, the mysterious gray-haired girl who was apparently a repository for a Stellaron. She kept quiet at first, but soon you learned she had a joke for every occasion and didn't hesitate to crack one even at the most inopportune moments, to the chagrin of her companions. Then to the two stewards of the Express: Himeko, the red-haired, confident navigator, and Welt, deep in thought and with a walking stick he kept close to himself at all times.

 Boothill seemed to fit right in. He was the one who introduced you excitedly to Dan Heng, cackling and talking about how they were “best buds.” Despite Dan Heng’s embarassment at first, you could tell he enjoyed the presence of the cowboy. In that way, you felt a sort of kinship with him.

 The two of you hung out on the Express for a few days, as Boothill helped them with one of their trips. They were currently orbiting a planet named Jarilo VI. Boothill had encouraged you to stay aboard the Express and take a break, but today, Himeko saw you watching the window.

"If you want, you can go down with the rest of them," she said.

"I think I might,” you responded. “Forget what Boothill said about taking a break, I'm at my happiest when I'm working on something anyway."

She smiled knowingly.

It wasn't long before you landed on the cold planet, and it was an even shorter time before you found the crew. Stelle, March, Dan Heng, and Boothill were in a clinic, accompanied by a small child with bright yellow hair and a doctor who wore a large apron. You'd soon come to know that these two were Hook and Natasha, respectively.

Boothill made a show of being upset that you weren't on the Express, but you could tell that he was very happy you had decided to join them after all.

Apparently the crew had been on a wild goose chase, and to your mild disappointment they were finished with the whole affair. Stelle, March 7th, and Boothill all attempted to explain the situation to you, and Dan Heng kept sighing and correcting them every five sentences, so in the end you understood very little.

As the four of you walked out of the clinic, Hook caught up to Boothill and tugged at his pants.

"You aren't leaving, mister, are you?"

Boothill turned around, and in a manner you'd previously thought uncharacteristic, he crouched down and ruffled the young girl's hair.

"I am, sweetheart," he replied.

 "But, but, you're a member of the Moles now! You have to stay with us."

"Oh, and I'm only an *honorary* member?" Stelle asked, in mock anger. Hook giggled mischievously, then turned back to the cowboy.

"Also, I need your help with something," she added.

"Oh? What's that?" Boothill asked. Hook produced a strange trinket from one of her pockets.

"I wanna give this to my daddy, but I dunno how to wrap it up."

Boothill chuckled, ruffling her hair again.  “Your daddy sure is lucky to have a little girl like you.”

Then he did something that was so unexpected, the action of it was seared into your memory forever.

Slowly, he took off the bandana from around his neck, and laid it flat on the ground. Then, he took the trinket from Hook's hands and put it on top of the bandana, in the center. Deftly, and with a gentleness you'd seen from him very rarely, Boothill wrapped up the object with careful folding and gentle knots, then presented the object to Hook.

"There you go. And once your daddy opens it, you can wrap the bandana around your own neck, and I'll be there with ya and the Moles in spirit."

Tears sprung to Hook's eyes and she surged forward, hugging his neck and wailing loudly. Boothill chuckled, patting her back tenderly.

✦✦✦

The crisis with Jarilo VI solved, you and Boothill bade the Astral Express crew goodbye and went on your way. In the small spaceship you sat in, you gave Boothill a look.

What Hook and the Astral Express Crew didn't know was that the bandana he wore around his neck was very dear to him. A remnant of his past, a past that he had talked very little about with you, even though the two of you had gotten very close with each other.

Boothill sighed, feeling your gaze on him. "You wanna ask me about what happened with the girl, I can tell."

"Well, I mean, if you don't want to talk about it, I guess that's fine with me--" you started.

"No, no it's fine. It's somethin' I should've told ya long before. It's just painful for me is all."

You wanted to tell him that it was okay for him not to tell you, but you couldn't bring yourself to speak.

"What I never told you before, darlin’, was that I used to have a little girl of my own."

You raised a hand to your mouth. Never in your life would you have thought that the man in front of you—loud, brash and reckless—was ever a father.

"Before I was a Galaxy Ranger, before I got this metal body that I have now, I used to be just a cowboy. And one day I found myself with a daughter. Precious thing, loved her to death." He paused, taking in a deep breath, then let it out. "The IPC, they came to our planet... and they took her away from me. Took her and my whole family away from me. Razed everything I had to the ground.

��“That bandana I wore, well. It was my only reminder of her."

"Oh," you said, understanding why he was so guarded about it in the past. There was a long pause as you waited for Boothill to talk again.

 "But that girl, Hook," he started again, "she… reminded me of my daughter." Boothill took a shuddering breath. He had lost his ability to cry a long time ago, and you knew this, but sometimes he did things that told you he was weeping, invisibly. Until now you hadn't known what about.

"They would have been friends," he said softly.

"I'm sure they would have," you agreed.

You thought about the way he wrapped the gift for Hook.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" you asked.

"Do what?" he replied.

"What you did with the gift. How you folded it."

"Oh, that," he chuckled. "Some things you pick up being a dad."

There was another pause before you decided to speak again. "Well, I'll admit I was wrong about you then."

 "Wrong about what?" he asked, and you chuckled a little before answering.

"Turns out, cowboy, you do know how to wrap things up neatly."

Boothill laughed then, a soft, light sound, and you smiled.

comments are also very appreciated!

dividers by @cafekitsune

[bluewhitehues]

Hug Series/ Drabble

Kim Mingyu× F. Reader

Genre: fluff,a very silly drabble, sulky gyu

"Go to your sidechick" mingyu says teasingly when you're bickering about something. He's sitting on the couch and you on his lap.

"What makes you think you're not the one who's sidechick?" You tease him back raising your eyebrows.

His mouth opens in disbelief and he huffs sulking at you, turning his face sideways not looking at you.

"I'm just kidding you're not. Ok?" You say between laughing.

He still isn't looking at you biggest pout on his face as he huffs again.

You squish his cheeks turning his face to look at you pecking his pout "You're my soul ..the love of my life." And you're giving him the sweetest lovesick smile ever so how can he not melt right then and there.

He tries so hard not to smile at you. He's planning on bantering with you more he won't show it even if he's melting from inside he loves when you two bicker.

"Chan is my homie my bud just like he's yours." You say pinching his cheek.

"Yeah he's my homie but i don't remember having a crush on him ever." He says shrugging, the mischievous look clear on his face.

Your eyes go so wide cause you or him haven't mentioned it since you got in a relationship. You know he's just trying to rile you up and it's not a serious issue to worry about. If he had felt anything about it he would have told you directly you know that.

So you gasp getting up from his lap in flash "it was nice knowing you Kim Mingyu. Divorce papers will be sent through my lawyer." And you walk away turning back from him.

And he's laughing at you. He burst out as soon as you said that. "But baby we aren't married." He says getting up to go to you.

You stop in your track, turning back to face him."Oh I see how it is now ..no no I get what you are saying I guess I'm more serious about you than you are." You shrug

His eyes go wide at that ..even if he knows you're kidding, he'd never show himself as someone who isnt serious about you, cause come on the guy literally breaths you not even oxygen,is so damn whipped for you "Noo. Where I'd go if you divorce me ..please don't " He says now seriously giving you the puppiest eyes ever.

"I guess I can give you a chance if you promise me kisses and hugs to make up for it..also endless cuddles in bed " You say shrugging.

And he's smiling sheepishly before he runs the little distance between you two holding you up in his arms tightly.

"Now that's my pleasure baby." He kisses your cheek and then all over your face.."What about something else in bed too?" He says kissing the corner of your lips then looking up at you raising one of his brows with a smirk. "I like the sound of it." You say. And he's throwing you on the bed gently before getting on top of you to tickle you from both of your sides.

"Oh my god gyu wtf ...I knew it ah stop- gyuuu-" You say in between the laughter trying to hold his hands and kicking him with your feet to push him away from you.

"Gyu please-" You whine while giggling so he stops. He looks at you with heart eyes literally as he hovers above your face.

"I love you "He whispers and you just...melt under him. how can you not. No matter how many times he says it,it still feels like the first time ever ,his love keeps growing and he keeps showing it. "I love you too " You say pulling him down for a kiss. He smiles into the kiss causing you too smile as well. You pull him even closer making him loose his balance and fall over you. "Hey-" he says barely pulling back from your lips scolding you a little but you're giggling throwing your head back and he's laughing all over again slapping your side and then getting beside you on the bed. He pulls you so you're on your side and then he's pulling you flush against him. Claiming your lips again.

a/n: idk what did I write hope you like it.

Boyfriend mingyu missing hours are so opennn😭

Masterlist if any of you haven't read hug series you can find it here. 🫶

[lovebugism]

AH HI!! so... i love the way you write ditzy!reader, and especially with steve idk it just warms my heart yk? The way they interact 😭 it's so lovely

Since I'm an angsty girly at heart, I thought about a situation where steve gets a teeny tiny bit frustrated with ditzy!reader, but it's just seconds, even less than that but it's enough to make her upset for making him upset but also a super fluffy moment between both of them and steve being mesmerized by her and just so much in love

ahh thank u lovie! pls enjoy!! — steve gets frustrated with his sensitive gf and makes up with her accordingly (hurt/comfort, established relationship, 2.7k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

You keep Steve company during the last half of his shift like you always do. 

He’s grumpier than usual, though — all pouty and visibly brooding. 

You plop yourself on the front counter of Family Video and ask him what’s wrong, and he tells you that the day’s been hell and he’s just tired. There is no “but I feel better now” like there usually is when he’s upset but doesn’t want you to think it’s your fault. 

The “because you’re here” is typically implied. 

Not so much now.

You’re having the complete opposite day of your sulking boyfriend. Yours had been dreadfully boring, or at least you say it had been, but you find a million different things to tell him. You’re too excited after having spent so many hours without him, like a dog with a wagging tail. You’ve got the zoomies of the mouth, if you could even call it that.

“—And then I saw the cutest dog on the way over here. His name was Cappy, and he was huge, and the owner was so nice. He even let me pet him, and he literally felt like a cloud— the dog, not the owner.”

Steve is used to this. The whole rambling about nothing thing. He loves it about you, actually. It took him ages to coax you out of that shell after your asshole ex told you that you talked too much, convinced you that no one cared about what you had to say.

You’re more comfortable now, and Steve loves that you are, but right now he just can’t concentrate.

Keith’s been on his ass about inventory all day, and he just learned how to do it on the old, bulky computer this morning — but only after Robin made him an hour late to his shift. Everything’s just too much now. He’s overwhelmed to the point of spontaneous combustion. 

For the first time ever, you’re not helping.

“—And, like, I know when we move into our apartment, we’re technically not allowed to have pets, but like… What about a fish? Or a turtle?” you wonder aloud but don’t stop to let him answer. Sitting on the edge of the counter, you kick your feet and flit your eyes to the spotted ceiling. “What if I start feeding the deer in the woods, and they just start showing up at our backdoor? ‘Cause technically—”

“Babe, please,” Steve snaps suddenly when your sneaker knocks his chair. He’s buzzing with anger, and even though it’s not because of you, he doesn’t know where else to put it.

Your eyes go wide at the newfound bite in his tone. He’s not shouting at you, but it makes your heart stop like he is. You feel like a kid again, getting scolded for being “too much.”

“…What?” you squeak.

Steve sighs. A deep, heavy sigh. It doesn’t remove the leaden weight from his chest, though. 

“I’m… I’m really trying to concentrate here, and you’re just— you’re making it really hard,” he tells you through gritted teeth, trying hard to keep his composure.

You deflate like a popped balloon. “Oh…”

He can hear the waver in your tone, the way your voice sounds wet with unshed tears. But he’s too overwhelmed — internally raging and selfish with it. His sweltering temper makes his woe feel more important than yours.

“Yeah, so… Can you just— go bother someone else for, like, five minutes?” he asks, fists clenched on either side of the clunky keyboard, his gaze concentrated on the pixelated screen. “Robin’s probably sulking in a corner somewhere. Go find her.”

Your face crumbles like a balled-up piece of paper. Your chest gets all tight, and your eyes start to burn when tears gather behind them.

You’d always been a flower of melodrama — blooming eternally and constantly sensitive. So when Steve cut you off as you fantasized about a family of deer living in the backyard of an apartment you were supposed to share together, it felt like a knife in your chest. 

The irrational thought that he no longer wanted any of that with you was fleeting and vivid and burning. Irrational, still.

But now you’re annoying him. He’s told you as much, with an unusual harshness he’s never spat at you before. And now your fears feel much more real.

“I’m bothering you?” you ask him, barely intelligible through the whimper in your throat.

Steve huffs again. His elbows thunk against the desk when he puts his head in his palms, swiping his fingers through his hair like he always does when he’s antsy. 

“I just really need to get this done,” he tells you, softer now. He makes himself mad all over again, though, and gets sharper once more. “I need to finish this before I get fired, and then we have no apartment to move into because we have no money, alright?”

There it is. The root of all his anger. A lingering feeling of inadequacy. 

He wants a life with you, but all he’s got is a measly Family Video salary — which he’s lucky to have apparently, because he can’t seem to do anything right. It stirs like a fire in the pit of his stomach.

After another deep breath, he finally turns to look up at you. His honey eyes are wet and stern. The chiseled edges of his features are sharp. Gently, he pleads. “I really need to work here, babe.”

You nod, understanding and internally weeping. “Okay. I’m— I’m sorry, I was just— I’ve been missing you all day, and I got too excited, I think,” you confess, wringing your clammy hands in your lap like a scolded child.

“Don’t apologize,” Steve says with a huff, leaning back against the squeaking swivel chair. It’s old and has lost all its cushion. His stiff back aches all the more. There’s no relief, to any of it. 

He sits back up again and puts his unsure hands back on the keyboard. “Just— Just go, okay? Let me finish this.”

He leaves little room for argument.

You wouldn’t, though, even if you wanted to. Which you do. You’re just not strong enough.

—————

Steve tells you to go, but you end up in the kiddie corner across the store. 

Mr. Rogers puts on a bright red cardigan and sings a tune that makes you feel like crying. You sit on the color-blocked carpet, surrounded by block toys, and clutch a stuffed bunny to your chest. You can’t tell if the vintage VHS is making the screen blurry or if it’s the tears gathering heavy at your waterline.

Robin walks by you, does a double-take, and immediately reports to Steve.

“What did you do?” she interrogates with narrowed eyes, strolling up to the counter with a cart full of tapes to put away.

The hearty tap, tap, taping of the keyboard fills the silence. 

Steve doesn’t look at her until he’s finished up the last of his work. Only when it’s fully and finally complete does his hardened gaze dart to her. “What are you talking about?”

“Your girlfriend. She’s upset.”

“What do you mean she’s upset?”

Robin rolls her eyes at his obliviousness. “I don’t know. She’s singing the Mister Roger’s theme song and, like, crying. It’s weird.”

Steve’s brows pinch. His heart does, too. “Crying?”

“Well— not crying, exactly. It’s this really weird blubbering thing.” She fails to explain it so she tries to imitate it. A sobbing, sniffling sort of noise. She fails at that, too. Her scrunched face goes back to normal. “Like that.”

Deadpanned, Steve nods. “Wow, Robin. That was really helpful. Thank you.”

“Just go comfort your girlfriend, dingus.”

Steve still thinks she’s joking. Robin doesn’t lie, but she does have a tendency to overemphasize the mundane. 

He goes to see you anyway, though, and doesn’t think twice about any of it — about what Robin said or what he had said to you before that.

He finds you in the kid’s section, in front of the tiny television, surrounded by brightly colored toys. He smiles at the sight of you, exhaling a sharp laugh through his nose.

“What are you doing all the way over here, huh?” he questions to announce his arrival, which you seemingly hadn’t noticed. “This area is usually for kids, ya know? Well, kids and Dustin Henderson.”

He doesn’t sound as annoyed with you anymore. You’re grateful for that much, but you still feel a bit sick about the whole thing.

Your nervous hands pick the cotton of the fuzzy bunny in your arms. You keep your gaze on the television in front of you, but you aren’t really watching it anymore. “I used to watch this stuff a lot growing up. The nostalgia sorta makes me wanna puke. But, like, in a good way.”

Steve scoffs. “Well, maybe we should turn it off then, ‘cause if I have to clean up vomit after the day I’ve had, I might actually go insane.”

He’s kidding. Mostly. The universe tends to be cruel like that, but he’d clean up all your messes a thousand times over if he had to.

He laughs at his own joke as he crouches to sit down next to you. He bends his knees, props his arms on top of them, and looks over at you. You don’t crack a smile for him, which is weird because you always laugh at his jokes. Even the ones that aren’t funny. Especially the ones that aren’t funny.

His smile ebbs to a wavering half-smirk as he knocks his shoulder with yours. “You okay?”

You think for a moment, jutting your lips out, unblinking at the television screen. “No,” you answer after a few seconds of silence. “But I’ll get over it. I think.”

Your honesty makes his heart wrench — like you’ve wrapped both your tiny hands around the beating organ and squeezed. It knocks the breath out of his lungs, a fish so ruthlessly pulled from the water. He tries to speak through the sudden lack of air. “Wh—What happened? Was it… Did I do something? Did you—”

“No,” you cut off his stammering with a firm shake of your head. “I did something.”

“Oh,” is all he says, pink lips pouting and wide eyes darting. “What does… What does that mean? Did you, like, step on a rogue VHS or something? ‘Cause I do that all the time, and technically, that’s Rob’s fault for leaving them out, so—”

You shake your head again, digging your nails into the delicate cotton of the well-loved stuffy in your arms. “No. I was just— I was botheringyou, and now I feel bad,” you confess, all quiet like a meek child who’s learning what it means to be sorry.

Steve — your oh, so oblivious one — goes aflame with embarrassment. He’d been too clouded by his own anger to recognize the venom spilling from his mouth; to understand that it would inevitably hurt you.

With chiseled features twisted in confusion, he shakes his head and stammers. “What? No! You weren’t— You weren’t bothering me!”

You turn to look at him, for the first time since he sat down beside you. Your eyes are glassy and swimming with hurt. You try to keep your trembling features stoic. You don’t want to seem as hurt by it all as you really are. 

You feel like you should, anyway. What right do you have to be sad when you were the one being a bother?

“You said I was,” you remind him, still soft but sterner now. “You told me to go bother someone else—”

“Oh, babe…” Steve says, deflating just as you had. 

He knows how sensitive you are, how deeply you feel things. You’re vulnerable, raw — it makes everything feel more personal than it really is. It makes grumpy jabs from your dumbass boyfriend hurt like a lemon on a weeping wound.

He tries to apologize, knowing that he hurt you and that it’s not up to him to decide that he didn’t. 

“I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to, babe,” he murmurs, swiping a tense hand through his hair and then gesticulating wildly with it. “I was just being a dick, you know? I’ve been super stressed all day and—”

“Don’t apologize. I was being annoying.”

Steve blinks at you with wide, wet eyes — like you’ve hurt him by talking so cruelly about yourself. 

“Baby, no. No,” he urges, ducking down to meet your gaze when you look away from him. “I’m just an idiot, okay? I put off inventory until the last second, and Keith’s been on my ass all day about it, and I just— I took that out on you, and that’s not fair, and I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, pursing your bitten lips to the side and twisting the long ear of the bunny between your fingers. “It’s not your fault, Steve…” you murmur, almost inaudibly.

He scoffs. It sounds like a bitter laugh. “Well, actually, it kinda is.”

“I just… I don’t really understand what’s going on sometimes. Or, like, a lot of the time,” you admit with a distracted gaze, eyes flitting everywhere but to the boy beside you. You’re too ashamed to look at him now. “And it’s harder for me to know when I’m talking too much, you know? Or if I’m being super annoying.”

“I know…” Steve nods, trying his best to be sympathetic of you. He loves how soft you are — too much to understand you completely. He loves how gently you treat the rest of the world, how unusually giddy you get in your gentleness. 

You swallow through a tightening throat and shrug to pretend your world doesn’t feel like it’s crumbling around you. “And I don’t care about annoying other people— well, I do, but it’s different with you, you know? Other people can’t break up with me for being too much.”

“The idiot that told you you were too much had exactly zero personality,” Steve tells you, mostly because he means it but also to see you smile. 

You do, just barely. A grin so soft only someone deathly in love with you could see. 

“You’re never annoying me, okay? Ever. I love hearing you talk. I love having you around.”

“Yeah?” you ask him, blinking back burning tears.

“Hell yeah! You’re, like, the best part of my day! The only good part of my day, now that I think about it.”

Biting back a grin, you tease, “Well, what about Robin?”

“Robin made me late today, so we’re kinda not friends right now.”

“That’s mean,” you scold despite the growing smile on your face.

Steve shrugs. “We’ll make up before I clock out. No big deal.”

You go suddenly shy, smiling sheepish and tilting your chin to your chest to peek at him through your lashes. “Are we gonna make up before you clock out?” you wonder quietly.

“Only if you’re willing to forgive me for being an insufferable douchebag,” Steve answers, only half-joking. He very seldomly feels worthy of your softness.

You look at him with it, anyway. 

Full on beaming now, you reach across the short distance to wrap him in a firm embrace. The position is only slightly awkward. Sitting side by side with your asses on the hard carpet, your arms wound tightly around his neck — a bit like a snake smothering its prey. 

Steve feels grateful to be held so ardently. 

His nose smushes into your neck. The sweet scent of your perfume entwines with the warm scent of your sweater. He smiles into your shoulder when it makes you giggle. You pull back from him then, just to steal a quick peck a moment later. Your lips smack audibly against his grin.

“Can we make out before you clock out?” you lilt with a shy smirk.

“…That is the single best idea I’ve heard all day.”

Your giggle fills the empty store when Steve rises suddenly and pulls you with him. He leads you toward the back, tugging you by the hand down the short corridor and rambling all the way. “Keith left for the day, so his office is empty, which means it’s fair game—”

“I am not making out with you in Keith’s office!”

“But his desk chair is crazy comfortable, and also, he’s a dick, so… who cares?”

[kanmom51]

Jikook in bed - Part 1

I am pissed and in a not good way.

Worked over 4 hours writing this post, saved to drafts only for the whole damn thing to just disappear.

Did I mention I am pissed?

Cause I am.

Ok, let me take a breath and try to put down on paper my thoughts, hopefully I will remember some of them.  Sob sob.

Jikook in bed. 

Who would have thought that I would be writing a post about Jikook in bed? 

Please don't answer my rhetorical question, lol.

Who thought after the Jikook drought we got in 2023 that we would be getting this, eh?  And yet, here we are.  Me losing count of the number of posts I’ve already written about episodes 1 and 2 alone of Are you sure?! And I’m not done yet.  And another episode is coming today!!!

Did I mention just how overwhelmed I am?  In the very best way.  Well, other than being pissed at Tumblr for throwing away my hard work. 😭😭

I’ll be breaking this down into 2 parts because damn it, there is so much to say about these two short clips we get of the two in bed.  Both playful.  Both sus as shit.  If shit is sus – I guess we can ask JM on his thoughts about that – yes I did go there.  Poor man is not going to live this down, and now I understand why he kept asking if this could air – not because he was worried about their flirty handsy moments.  NOPE.  But because of the shit, lol.

Ok, so part 1 will be focusing on the brushing teeth in bed, while part 2 will focus on the handsy cuddly butt wacky master bedroom action.

When watching the whole brushing teeth in bed I had to ask myself a multiple why’s?

Why brush teeth in the bedroom? 

Or more so, why in that bedroom?

Why not in the bathroom?

Perhaps because we would see they are both using the master bedroom ensuite?

It’s not that we couldn’t deduce that from the footage, but that would take more looking into, which let’s be real, most army don’t do.  They watch it once or twice and many don’t pay attention to the details.  A lot of details need us to view the footage multiple times something that most army are not into – they don’t care to find out more.  They see the surface, JK and JM being cute, and that’s enough for them to say “oh, they are so brotherly…. Such brotherly love…” without wanting to see anything else.

But if you do look closer you see A LOT.

You see that JM does the tour of the house, showing us 4 bedrooms, first one being a master bedroom with a king size bed and an ensuite he shows us.

An ensuite we later see JK in while preparing to go out shopping.

So yes.  They were both using the same bathroom in that huge modern fancy house with 4 bedrooms and obviously more than one bathroom that happened to be the ensuite to the master bedroom.

And perhaps they didn’t want it to be too obvious.  Because why use that same bathroom? 

*side note: at this point, when JM goes to check on JK there is clearly a staff member in there with them. The way the camera moves the angle of filming changes, it's clear that is not a static camera, unlike the ones we got from the bedrooms and hallway at night and in the morning. It looks like the staff member is using JM's go pro to film that and as JM walks out of the bathroom the camera changes hands and JM has it. And I state this because most of the time there wasn't staff in the house with them. For a lot of the time they had the house to themselves. My educated guess would be that just like we saw they had control over the cameras in the house, could easily turn them on and off (JK with the hallway camera), they were the ones to decide when the staff can join them in the house to film or resume filming.

Another possible reason why we got the bedroom scene would be that they didn’t want to place a camera in the bathroom, which they obviously didn’t. I mean, that bathroom was rather small – you know, as ensuites usually are, and having them both stand there and brush their teeth would be cramped and uncomfortable (we saw that in Sapporo we did have them place that camera for us to see them brush their teeth side by side).  Also, obviously they wouldn’t want permanent cameras placed in the bathroom for privacy reasons – duh.  Even if they did have control over turning the cameras on and off. In Sapporo it’s clearly a camera they set up themselves, one they could just pick up and take away. They placed it there for the purpose of filming themselves brushing their teeth side by side. 

So basically, imo, this whole brushing teeth in the bedroom JK was supposedly sleeping in was a combination of it all.

They wanted us to see them brush their teeth prior to going to sleep.  They didn’t want us to see that they were sharing the ensuite bathroom (the bathroom connected to the room JM was sleeping in).

And the cherry to top it all is showing us this is where JK is going to spend the night.

Because that was somehow something they needed to show us.

Unlike the cabin with the one bed, that didn’t ‘allow’ for another option, the two spending the night in the same bed while there are another 3 lovely empty rooms available, would be too much perhaps.

You know, deniability and all. 

Makes even more sense seeing this was filmed in July 2023, and the two did not know just yet what lies ahead of them when it comes to their enlistment.

Let’s talk about that for a sec, why don’t we?

Those cameras in the house, they were placed ahead of time.  Before the two arrived.  I’m talking about the permanent cameras – the ones downstairs, the one in the hallway, the one in JK’s bedroom, the one in the master bedroom.

This was decided ahead of time – that they will not be sharing a bedroom.  Not on camera anyway. And this wasn’t their decision!

I don’t think that JM asking while standing in that room whether to sleep together with JK, adding a comment about getting hit was an actual contemplation on his part.  I think it was him signalling that it’s definitely an option and perhaps the reason why he won’t be is because of not wanting to get hit.  Him doing all of that when JK is there in the room with him (probably going through his luggage which was probably there too – we don’t get to see, but it makes sense seeing how small the other room was and the fact that JK was using the ensuite).  We also see JK throw something onto the bed – perhaps a heat pack he took out of that luggage?  But he’s there and they leave the room together shortly after.

"Should I sleep next to Jungkook tonight? Will he hit me again?"...

Again, let me be clear here with what I’m saying.  JM asking this was a mute question, and he knew it, seeing that they were both well aware of the fact that cameras were already placed in the two bedrooms expecting them not to be sharing that bed.  At least not on camera.

And you know where else you see that bemusement about the separate beds?

In the trailer where we get them in Sapporo the two standing in the hotel room JK asking JM which bed he wants to choose.  JM’s reaction super telling. 

And what about the house in Jeju?  Clearly that second bed was brought up from the room downstairs (we know that from the original layout of the house).  Yes, Tae was joining.  But wouldn’t that be less sus them sharing a bed?  We’ve seen them all share beds in previous content.  Tae literally shared one with his mates back in 2022.  I guess that the idea was to show us that when there is an option they won’t share a bed?  That the CT cabin was a ‘must’ as there was only one bed and there was no choice?  Strange, seeing that there were other options for cabins that were not 1 shared bed.  Well, never mind that.  In any case I guess there was need for the deniability, seeing as to how cozy those two were the next day in that one bed in the master bedroom. 

Seeing that plus knowing they shared a bed could be construed as too much perhaps.

Btw, you know what that whole scene in bed reminded me of?

Remember that time JK was asked what his favourite memory from their trip to Tokyo?

Remember his answer?

JM staying up until 5 am on his phone and sleeping in the next morning?

Sorry, but that constant smirk on JM's face... to die...

and

Yes Jeon. "He" didn't sleep at night. That's why both of you overslept the next day.

*Side note: at the end of the interview/sit down JM won a gift which guess who was given straight away?

Well, them in bed together there in CT, seeing those few seconds we were allowed to see (with the many cuts) – that is how I picture them in Tokyo on that trip.  Those calm almost boring moments in bed together.  On their phones.  Snuggling.  Playing.  Just enjoying being next to each other, just the two of them, outside world be damned. 

That is what JK loved most in Tokyo. That is what was most memorable to him (our introvert sweetie).

And he got that here as well.

You could argue: "what's the difference here from the two spending time together in bed in Seoul at either of their palaces?" And my answer to that would be:

EVERYTHING.

How can you even compare? Being back in Seoul, with all the playing around their schedules and stress and pressures and anxiety that still linger even when you are home, even when you are together with your loved one. You can't compare it to this. JM taking the time off to be with him. JK taking the couple of days off during his promotions for his first solo debut. Getting away from it all. Spending those 3 days together alone. No work. No stress. No pressure. Even with JK feeling physically off and JM's diarrhea. Just the two of them, away. Away from everything and everyone. Having those tiny every so important soft moments.

Or in layman's words: having a cuddle at home is not the same as having that cuddle when away, taking that time to spend together as a couple. It's just not the same. It's so much more. And that is also why it was so memorable for JK back in 2017.

I’m getting kind of emotional here folks.  Don’t mind me.

Let’s get back to the brushing teeth in bed, shall we?

Again, in the second bedroom and not the master, even though it’s the master ensuite they are using as a bathroom!!

Why not see them brush their teeth on the master bed?  Yeah, I think I answered that one already.  We weren’t supposed to deduct that JK was using the master ensuite.

We were to know that JK was sleeping in that room, we even got to see him go to sleep and wake up there.  It was very important that we see that.  Not make a mistake that maybe, just maybe, they spent the night together.

What do I think, you ask?  I will tell you, even if you didn’t ask, lol.

I think that JK probably did sleep in that bed for a bit.  A BIT.  Like a really really short bit.

I also think that they spent much time together in that one bed in the master bedroom.  They got the pre-sleep cuddles (that we didn’t get to see) and they got the post-sleep cuddles (that we also didn’t get to see – and I’ll get into that in the next post – just saying that JK walking into the room and out of it after he woke up – the first time he goes in and out – there was a HUGE chunk cut out of the footage).

Oh, and they got the post-JK eating crap for breakfast- cuddles too.

This isn’t going the way I wanted it to, lol.  I’m talking too much about stuff that is meant for part 2 of Jikook in bed.  You see, this is why it is all intertwined and if there wasn’t an issue with image limits or readers losing focus with too long posts this would all be one post.  But 'tis what 'tis and I have to stop talking about the master bedroom!!!

So, back to the toothbrushing.

This was them:

JK literally pulling JM down to lie on the bed.

The giggles (oh, what I want to say now and am holding myself back).

Their playfulness is on another level.

Add the legs over shoulder.

After JM laying his legs on JK's shoulders, JK grabbing the legs and pulling JM even closer in.

I love how with Jikook we live on moments that remind us of other moments. And this one kind of reminds me of another moment back from 2019 during rehearsal for the LY concerts, JM coming in behind JK to hold him and JK pulling JM's arm in for an even closer hug.

And we have cuts, of course.

So many of them.

Including this one.

And this one.

The cuts.  We should talk about them for a sec. 

There is hours and hours of footage, and obviously there are things that are deemed to end up on the editing room floor.  Footage that might be boring or irrelevant to whatever it is they want to be showing us.  There is also a time constrict that needs to be kept.  Understandably not everything can be left in.

But it’s some decisions that make you raise an eyebrow.  Some of those editing decisions that make you think – why cut this?  Why not leave the flow? 

And these moments are exactly those type of moments.

Obviously the fans will go crazy for seeing them be so playful and mucking around.  They are brushing their teeth and it’s clear this isn’t something that is going on for too long of a time.  So, why not allow us to see the FULL interaction?  I think we know the answer to that, don’t we?  Once again it’s those two being too much.  Too obvious.  Too handsy. Too couplie.

How exactly does JK end up with his back to us?

Why is he with his back to us?

Why is the whole scene with JM’s legs hanging over JK’s shoulders cut short?

And why does JK continue to be with his back to us after this has clearly ended and JM is sitting on the edge of the bed?

I kind of think that I know why JK was sitting with his back to us, and why it’s cut at that point and we never get to see them get out of that bed.

Great time to sign off.

See you for part 2 of Jikook in bed.

[stevie-petey]

dibs

“Jinx!” Again, they say this at the same time. They both groan, and without any other words, they jump into an intense game of rock, paper, scissors.  “One, two, three!” Steve holds out a rock, Robin does as well, and the two teens almost strangle one another.  They try again, this time they both land on paper, and Robin throws her head back in frustration. “I’m not good at math, but this cannot be statistically possible.”

Summary: do the laws of dibs still apply if steve and robin see you at the same time ???

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n

Words: 1.4k

Before you swing in: this is for my beloved val (@southelroy), and i was so excited to try my hand at writing robin and steve together <3 this is a very silly fic, not at all meant to be realistic or serious, and it isnt proofread so pls enjoy n beware !

-

According to the ancient rules of “dibs”, the first person who sees the desired one has the rightful claim of dibs. Anyone else present during this time must obey this sacred rule, respecting the fact that the other has laid claim first. It’s an old, ancient tradition, held up for centuries through faithful friendships. 

It’s a solid system, really.

Except Steve and Robin see you walk into Family Video on the same day, at the same time, together. 

You walk in, hair slightly wet from the rain and your eyes bright, and smile at the two of them shyly. Setting down your umbrella, you unbutton your raincoat and look around the store. “Sorry, is it okay if I hide out in here for a bit? My umbrella broke and I really don’t feel like catching a cold.”

Steve and Robin stare at you, wide eyed and in shock. They’ve never seen you before, they surely would’ve remembered your face if they had, and their brains short circuit simultaneously. 

When they don’t say anything, you cautiously walk up to the counter and laugh nervously. “Uh, hello? I can leave, if that’s what you’re trying to say.”

“No!” Steve shouts, panicked that the word “leave” has left your very pretty and pink mouth. When you flinch at his raised voice, he quickly clears his throat and lowers his voice. “I–uh, I mean… No, no. You can stay–please! I mean, if you don’t mind, ‘cause, ya know, it’s raining–”

“What my coworker here is trying to say is that you can definitely stay.” Robin interrupts, admiring the way the raindrops in your hair seem to form a halo. “In fact, why don’t you have a look around? We have plenty of movies.”

You smile at Robin, which she practically melts seeing. “Thanks, you guys are lifesavers. I’m here visiting my cousin, and he said I should stop by anyways.”

“What, do we know him?” Steve asks, finally finding his voice again. 

“His name is Dustin Henderson, if that helps. He’s a freshman at Hawkins, said he stops here sometimes–”

“Dustin Henderson is your cousin?” Steve and Robin say at the same time, completely taken aback. 

You laugh. “Ya know, I’ve gotten that a lot since being in Hawkins. I take it he’s well known?”

“Oh, he’s definitely well known.” Robin snorts, thinking about how many people would scream at the idea of more Hendersons running around the world. 

But if they’re anything like you, then Robin thinks she’d love to be invited to a Henderson family reunion. Immediately. 

“Well,” you smile again at the two teens, amused by their weird dynamic. You can see why Dustin likes them so much. “Since I’m stuck here for a while and I promised Dustin I’d get a movie, I’m gonna take a look around as suggested.”

You pause, now realizing you haven’t asked for their names, and you gasp. “I’m so sorry! What are your names? I feel horrible for not even asking.”

“You could never do any wrong,” Steve sighs dreamily, leaning against the counter in what he hopes is a cool looking pose. “I’m Steve, Steve Harrington.”

He sticks his hand out for you to shake, which you accept with a slight giggle. He’s odd, but incredibly endearing even if he’s currently standing against the counter like a middle-aged man. “I’m Y/N Henderson.” 

Robin, sensing what Steve is trying to do, hip checks the boy so that he falls onto the ground. “And I’m Robin Buckley, the better half of this duo.”

Like hell she’s going to allow him to flirt with you. 

Her declaration makes you laugh, even as poor Steve groans on the floor in pain. You wink at her, amused by her charm, and start to walk towards the movie aisles. “Oh, I believe that.”

Steve scrambles back up, and the second you’re out of earshot, he and Robin immediately shout at the same time, “Dibs!”

“Jinx!” Again, they say this at the same time. They both groan, and without any other words, they jump into an intense game of rock, paper, scissors. 

“One, two, three!” Steve holds out a rock, Robin does as well, and the two teens almost strangle one another. 

They try again, this time they both land on paper, and Robin throws her head back in frustration. “I’m not good at math, but this cannot be statistically possible.”

“Okay, let’s think about this.” Steve holds a finger up to indicate that he’s speaking, which Robin scoffs at. “I saw her first, so–”

“Uh, news flash, dingus: I saw her first.”

“Were you dropped as a child? I clearly saw her first–”

“Actually,” your voice causes both Robin and Steve to turn in horror, realizing too late that you’ve been standing behind them, listening in. “You both saw me at the same time, so I’m not sure how the rule of dibs applies here.”

“We…” Steve gapes at you, speechless. 

Robin is no better, her face burns horribly. “We think… You’re pretty?”

“Well, I gathered that much.” You laugh again, and the sound is enough for both Steve and Robin to forget all their worries and admire how delicate it is. Then, holding up two dvd’s, you place them on the counter. “I’ll take these, please.”

Robin looks down at your movie selection, seeing The Breakfast Club and The Outsiders, and her heart drops. “Just… Just these?”

“Mhm,” you nod, unsure why her demeanor has suddenly changed. “Is there something wrong with my movie selection?”

Steve looks at Robin and he knows immediately what’s wrong. She absolutely hates your taste in movies, which he’s ecstatic over. He lets out a whoop and first bumps the air. “Yes! She’s mine!”

“Shut up, you moron!” Robin screeches, embarrassed and infuriated. She cannot believe that this is happening to her right now, in front of a very pretty girl, no less. Closing her eyes, Robin takes a deep breath and turns to you. “Please excuse my friend, he’s allergic to pretty girls.”

“Hey, that’s not true–”

You cross your arms at Robin, an amused smile on your face. “What’s so wrong with my taste in movies?”

“Nothing!” When you raise your eyebrow at her, Robin accepts her fate and gives in. She knows she’s done for now. “It’s just… It’s incredibly bland.”

“I happen to think your taste is impeccable, Y/N.” Steve butts in, batting his eyelashes at you for added effect.

Robin watches, with pure disgust, as it works. Steve’s charm gets you to laugh once more, and you even lean closer to his side of the counter. You place a hand on his arm. “I’m honored to have you on my side, then.”

Stupid Harrington and his stupid male species. 

While you and Steve exchange gross lovey-dovey glances, Robin rings up your movie rentals with disdain. 

“That will be $5.25, please.” She mumbles, crestfallen. 

You tear your eyes away from Steve’s and notice the jealousy and hurt on Robin’s face. You frown, feeling bad for being the cause of this. She seems like a sweet girl, and Dustin spoke highly of her, so you know she’s someone special. Taking some cash out of your purse, you hand it to Robin and catch her eye. 

“Hey, listen to me real quick.” Robin looks up, despite not wanting to, but your eyes are too pretty not to look into. When you have her attention, you turn to Steve. “Can you give us a second?”

He looks bewildered. “What? Why?”

“If you leave now, I’ll give you my number.”

“Yes ma’am!” Steve hops over the counter and goes to sort some movies, leaving you alone with Robin. 

Once he’s gone, you lean in close to her. “I understand what you’re going through.”

Her eyes widen, terrified she’s been caught. “W–what? No, I think you’ve gotten this all wrong–”

“It’s okay,” you grab her hand, gently take it between yours. “We’re more alike than you may think, and while I’m flattered, you’re too young.”

Robin knows she should be devastated by this, but all she hears is, “So… Let’s say ten years from now, if you happen to visit Dustin again…”

You laugh, she’s got such a spark to her. “You’ll have to figure out the whole ‘dibs’ thing by then with Steve.”

“I saw you first!” Steve shouts from somewhere in the aisles, before a giant crash follows. A few seconds pass, and then, much quieter this time, he shouts, “I’m fine!”

-

⌑ writing masterlist

[buckysegan]

With all my gratitude, hope and returned adoration - Part Two

Summary: John writes back to his friend from home and we hear from our friend across the way. John x She. Word Count: 1.2k. A/N: we are def rolling with some historical inaccuracies in regards to letters here but sue me. he deserves it. pstttt also should we name her? do you all want to send me random john prompts. my baby isn't ok and i'm not ok. Part one linked here. Part three linked here.

John was sure he wasn't sweating a normal amount as he looked down at the piece of paper that Buck had offered him. It had taken two whole days of questions from the man for Bucky to even decide that he was going to reply. He’d been offered the hope, what more could he ask of her. Could he ask more? There had been a return address on the letter which Buck had insisted was there for a reason and she had opened herself out for a reply from him but the Major couldn’t help but be unsure.

It was an odd feeling for him, before the war he hadn't been unsure of anything and since he’d been here? Well he hadn’t been sober enough to doubt anything that he had done. These days though Bucky felt like he doubted every single thing. The thing was, he wasn't sure that he could afford to doubt this, to look past the life line that had been offered to him. Not when each day he could feel his mind draw a little further toward the edge no matter how much he or Buck tried to keep it in check.

With a sigh he pulled the pen into his hand, eyes locked on the page for a moment before he began to scrawl.

Dear Friend From Home 

You’re gunna have to forgive me because I ain’t going to be as good as this as you are. I’ve written so many letters this war you would think that I’d have gotten a handle on it by now but I find myself at a loss when it comes to what to say to you. 

I think the first thing I got to say is thank you. I don’t know if the words I can put on paper are ever going to really tell you how much your letter meant to me. See I was a certain type of man that didn’t think much to pen pals. I figured that I’d be ok, you know, that with my boys I’d have what I needed to make it through the hard days but watching the letters for everyone else roll in has been harder than I thought it might. 

There are things that I can’t tell you cause I don’t know who might read these letters, and where I am I can’t get you no picture but I can tell you that my favorite dish is a meat and potato pie, simple I know but really I’m a simple hearty kind of guy. What makes me laugh, you asked? That’s kind of simple for me too, just good company, myself sometimes, Buck, he’s my best friend, he makes me laugh a lot. What makes you laugh? I’d like to know that. 

May I know where you are? I know that might be a big ask but you said I could ask anything I know and if I get out of here…we get some leave, I’d like to know where I need to ask for me leave to be. Then I can show you what I sound and look like and know that in return. 

If this letter doesn’t reach you for a while, know you’ve been with me the whole time. 

With all my gratitude, hope and returned adoration

Major John Egan 

“What if she doesn’t get it?” He found himself questioning quietly to Buck as he handed over the letter to make it out of camp. His best friend settled him with a soft look, one that always made Bucky feel like he had some worldly knowledge the rest of them had missed out on, that assured him everything was going to be alright. “You just gotta have hope she will John, she’ll get it.” 

With a huff Bucky nodded, pulling his hat on as he watched his letter vanish from his view all together. “Alright well I can’t sit here and wonder, I’m off to play baseball or something.”

The letter that Bucky had so carefully handed over changed hands many more times, some fingers as rough as the pilots, some dirtier, some softer, but the last set of fingers to slide the letter from her post box had perfectly manicured fingers. Her flicking of her post was greedy as she looked for the same thing that she had every day since she’d posted her own letter.

At first, her hopes of finding what she was looking for had been unrealistic; she knew that, it hadn’t even been long enough for her letter to be received, let alone for him to get one back to her, then the other girls at the centre, they’d gotten letters back, notes, anything. That was when she had allowed her hope to return, for a moment at least. Days without anything had turned into weeks and then weeks had turned into months. Anything could have happened, that was what she tried to tell herself, he might not have gotten her letter, he might have thought it was weird and had chosen not to reply. That thought was enough to miff her, he could have at least said thank you. When she had decided no one could be that mean, her diminishing hope had turned to worry, what if he hadn't been able to receive her letter.

Flicking through each white envelope today, she almost missed it, how she didn't know because it was clearly different from the rest of them, maybe she hadn't wanted to look. "Not…" Trailing off she flicked back to the second to last letter, her eyes taking in the scrawling of her address, her eyes checking the postage before she was taring inside. "It's here, he wrote it's here." She called through the halls to the other girls that she lived with, all of which had been holding their breath with her. "Oh god I can't read it, what if he's telling me I was weird!" She cried, thrusting the unopened letter into the hands of her eager friend.

"Don't be dramatic, he's going to be throwing down his gratitude at you being a doll, you should have attached a picture with it I told you!" Meg beamed easily back at her, the same sense of reservation missing from her actions as she tore into the letter so that it could be read to the group. "Dear Friend From Home. You’re gunna have to forgive me because I ain’t going to be as good as this as you are. I’ve written so many letters this war you would think that I’d have gotten a handle on it by now but I find myself at a loss when it comes to what to say to you." That was enough, pulling the letter from Megs hands she was quick to scramble away from the group once more, locking herself into her room as re-read the opening line herself, the tears in her eyes only welling even further as she continued.

An ache in her chest formed as she read the words once more, taking in each strike of his pen where he had corrected himself or smudge from whatever he'd had on his fingers. The state of the letter was enough to make her wonder, but at least for now, she knew her friend was ok. He was alive, and he wanted to hear more from her. It couldn't have been normal, to feel this level of emotion for a man that she had never met, but she had found herself here regardless and in the middle of so much uncertainty, she wasn't going to question the pull she felt across the way to England.

Pushing from her bed she moved to her desk, paper pulled from her stationary pot, the quicker she could post this the quicker it could get to him.

"Dear Major Egan,

I'm delighted to hear I'm with you. I hope you know, that you've been with me too…"

[sarahs-library]

Forgotten: Part Three

Azriel resolves to find answers; you try to keep from falling apart.

A/N - Finally! This week was really busy for me and all I wanted to do was get this finished. I hope you enjoy it, despite the angst. Cassian is the real star here, I absolutely loved writing his little part in this one. Any feedback is greatly appreciated!

Word count: 5,982

Part One ☪ Part Two

Forgotten Universe: Pretty Eyes

Azriel

“We really can’t put it off any longer, you know how unruly they get if left to their own devices for too long.” Azriel nodded absent-mindedly, his attention still mostly on the papers in front of him. Several months’ worth of reports had been piled on his desk by Rhys, an olive branch, something to occupy him whilst he waited out Madja’s orders of rest and recuperation. No training and no flying, not until the lingering effects of the concussion that still left him feeling weak had subsided.

After the disastrous intervention his family had staged yesterday culminated in him storming away from the table feigning a headache, he’d locked himself away in his room, preferring his solitude whilst he’d sorted through the mess of emotions. Finding sleep that night had been impossible. After hours spent tossing within the sheets and wrestling with an empty sense of wrongness he couldn’t explain, he resolved to sneak into the training room in the early hours and get through his regime before the rest of the house was stirring. His shadows alerted him to Cassian’s presence, moments before he found him only partway through his warm-up. His disappointment made Azriel feel like a chastised child, and he preferred to flee rather than confront his family’s meddling concern for his welfare.

He’d been holed up in his study ever since. Though well maintained by the House, the bound reports were old and mostly pertained to his early years as the Night Court’s spymaster. Now his preferred place of storage rather than the quiet sanctuary for work he remembered.

“You don’t have to explain it to me, Rhys, I understand.” Azriel continued to avoid his brother as he lounged in a chair opposite. He couldn’t stand to look at him, at any of his family. A constant reminder of everything he’d lost after waking. But the perfect opportunity was presenting itself, he just had to bide his time.

“I would understand if you didn’t want to come, with everything that’s happened.” Azriel still knew his brother. Knew that Rhys would rather disadvantage himself by not having him attend the Court of Nightmares than cause him distress. He also knew that Rhys would expect him to protest, to martyr himself and come anyway, for his family, his court, as he had done so many times before.

The shadows he’d sent out earlier, reluctant but reliable, began to slink back in under the closed door. They dispersed into the room, melding into their siblings hanging off the bookcase and in the archways of the windows. They heeded his silent plea to stay out of Rhys’ eyeline. Azriel touched the pads of his two scarred fingers to his forehead and closed his eyes, feigning discomfort.

The headache powder Elain had thoughtfully gifted him sat on the desk. Sweet, beautiful Elain who had paid attention to him, noticed the mannerisms he shielded with shadows and made him feel seen in a way his family never had. Who the male he’d become had seemed to snub. After tearing his room apart, he found the powder that he remembered so recently staring at as he tried to find sleep. In a drawer with broken-handled daggers and scraps of patching leather, gathering dust. Azriel met Rhys’ gaze and hoped that he wouldn’t be able to read the insincerity. He paused as if considering, before nodding in agreement.

“I think that would be best.” The slight widening of his brother’s eyes was the only sign of his surprise. “I’m sorry.” The apology was real, the guilt of manipulating Rhys lay heavy on his conscious.

“No, don’t be sorry. We understand Az. We just…We just want you to take care of yourself right now, brother.” Azriel swallowed heavily but managed to keep his face masked in unease. Rhys deserved better than this. His shadows thickened around him, sensing his emotional turmoil and desire to hide away. Rhys rose and leaned over the desk before clasping Azriel on the shoulder. He could feel the warmth of his brother’s hand through the dark dress shirt he wore. The affection on his face, so open and expressive now that Feyre had entered their lives, only served to make Azriel fall deeper into the pit of his self-loathing.

“We’ll be back this evening, Nesta will stay behind at the House with you in case you need anything.” His shadows affirmed that she was in the library a few floors below, engrossed in her latest smutty romance novel. It would be hours before she deigned to come back to reality, more than enough time for him to accomplish his task.

“I’ll finish reading these reports.” A tried-and-true tactic, Rhys had always understood Azriel’s need to use his work to buffer and evade situations that made him feel uncomfortable. He couldn’t let it go though, not completely. Not when Azriel was a shell of the male he’d been just a week before. The change had been gradual, Rhys couldn’t pinpoint when his brother had become happier in life, and more open in displaying his affection. Or at least less inclined to shroud himself in shadows. “Join us for dinner tonight?” The silence that followed was heavy.

Maybe it was the guilt, but Azriel found himself angling his head in acquiescence. Amethyst eyes brightened and Rhys nodded, accepting that Azriel was at least trying at some semblance of normalcy. Stepping away, Rhys resolved to dedicate himself to bringing his brother back to them, back to you, to the babe whose birth was fast approaching. The surge of power as he winnowed back to the River House left a lingering essence in the room. Azriel exhaled slowly, excitement and nervousness building in tandem as he realised the plan he set in motion was coming to fruition.

The shadows descended now, curling up to wait to relay the information. You found her? He asked; a chorus of voices relaying their affirmation. Where?

Rising from the chair behind the desk, straightening the papers into neat piles before glancing one last time at the small pot of powder, he returned to his bedroom. The door to the balcony hung ajar, letting in a cool morning breeze. He slipped through and climbed onto the edge overlooking Velaris. Stretching out the stiff muscles of his wings he gave a few precursory beats before launching himself off the balcony into a free fall over the city. His wings caught him in a gentle glide as he neared the rockface below and leveled out, carefully he prolonged riding the updraft as much as he could before he started to fly. The beats were slow, just enough to keep him a respectful distance from the city skyline but not enough to draw attention should Nesta decide to look out the window.

He followed the winding path of the Sidra through the city and reached the house nestled in the outskirts in a matter of minutes. There were no signs of activity, but his shadows had confirmed she was there. Circling the structure he tipped into his descent, heavy boots hitting cobbled stone as he landed in the lush gardens.

Your POV

You gripped the mug tightly between your hands, savouring the warmth seeping through the porcelain as you blew gently causing craters in the hot tea. As exhausted and emotional as you had been last night, sleep had eluded you long into the early morning. You’d managed a few fitful hours, but the gnawing emptiness Azriel’s absence left could not be abated. Separated only by the city of Velaris, you felt as though you may have been on separate worlds.

The babe you carried, so active now in the last stages of your pregnancy, had greeted the morning with a symphony of limbs played against your ribs. But it seemed that even they had stopped for the beauty of the sunrise over the skyline. You rubbed fondly against your abdomen, trailing a thumb over a small rounded bony prominence. The heel of a foot or the curved apex of a wing.  

Your eyes moved from the window to take in the nursery in the dawning light. A Pegasus, poised to take flight hovered on the wall by the small planet in one of the corners of the galaxy mobile. Home. You hadn’t thought seriously about your world in centuries, the one left behind as fire and brimstone destroyed everything you once had. You considered how your life would be different if you had never been forced to flee, to lead a nomadic existence through the stars.

You started as you heard the flapping wing beats that circled the house, descending lower before a pair of boots thudded against the stone. Abandoning the mug, you braced your arms to haul yourself out of the rocking chair in the nursery’s corner, cursing the sheer size your abdomen had grown to and how it restricted even the most basic of movements. Your feet were quick against the floor of the hall and as you began your descent of the stairs, leaning back to accommodate the additional weight that threw off your centre of gravity.

A heavy knock on the door made you more breathless than the sudden burst of activity. Your heart swelled.

“I’m coming!” Smiling as you called out. You faltered slightly when you heard the response.

“Hurry up! It’s freezing out here.” Cassian. The excitement that had bubbled in your chest died, hitting your stomach and leaving a leaden feeling in its wake. You were still on the stairs, taking a moment to collect yourself before you continued the down, moving much slower this time.

You made it to the bottom slightly out of breath, making sure to school your features before reaching out to open the front door. Cassian stood, a solid mass of muscle and a wide grin, grasping a crinkled paper bag in one of his mammoth hands. You couldn’t help returning him a small smile which soon died as you considered his unscheduled appearance.

“Is everything okay? Is it..Is it Az?” You knew Feyre and the others had spoken to him, tried to explain to him this new world he’d woken up to. She had confided in you last night that it hadn’t gone according to plan, that there hadn’t been the opportunity to convey more than basic information before he’d fled. She’d been apologetic, promising to try to see if she could get through to him, asking if there was anything you needed before returning to the River House.

“Oh. No, no, he’s fine. Well, I caught him trying to train this morning against Madja’s orders but that’s just Az being predictable.” Cassian shifted his weight and looked down at the bag he cradled like it held something precious. “The bakery across from the Sidra, the one that sells the hazelnut croissants. Az said that he was picking them up for you every morning after training. That you’d been cravin’ ‘em, so here.” He held the bag, heavy with sweet-smelling pastries, out across the threshold to you. Tears pricked the back of your eyes as you reached for them, meeting Cassian sheepish grin as he took in the emotion displayed clearly on your face.

“Thank you.” It was a near whisper, but you managed to get the words around the lump that had formed in your throat. The hulking male shrugged it off as if to say it was nothing. You swallowed before speaking again. “You hungry?” His grin widened, taking on a lupine quality as he scoffed and stepped over the threshold at the invitation.

“Like you need to ask."

Azriel

The cloying, sweet smell rising from the uniform beds of roses tickled his nose. Morning dew clinging to the blades of grass left trails of shining wetness on the leather of his shoes. The wrought iron garden table held a pot of steaming tea, a clear glass sticky with the remnants of juice, and two plates dusted with crumbs. Shadows directed him towards the bottom of the garden and Azriel's heart raced with anticipation as he thought about seeing her again.

She knelt on a towel with her back to him, gloveless hands digging into damp soil. Azriel took a moment to admire how the cut of the lavender dress exposed the gentle curve of her shoulders. An errant lock of hair hung forward, swinging with her movements and he longed to pull it back behind her ear and trace his fingers against the soft skin of her neck, feeling her warmth beneath his fingertips.

“Elain.” She started, pulling her hands from the dirt and turning to face him. Her eyes widened in surprise and her lips parted slightly.

“Azriel, what are you doing here? Madja said you needed to rest.” He drew closer to where she still knelt frozen in the grass.

“I couldn’t stay away, I had to see you.” She shifted her weight, rising to her feet quickly. The hem of her dress brushed against the grass as she took several steps away from his advance, the lavender darkening from the wetness. “Please.” Elain stopped her retreat at his plea.

“Azriel…” She was beautiful, even as her brows furrowed in concern. Azriel wanted to take her face between his hands, wanted to bare his soul and promise to do anything, be anything that she needed.

“You can’t deny this Elain, what’s here between us. You feel it, I know you do. And the Solstice, I know what I said but…It’s not what I meant. It was Rhys, he was concerned about the bond you share with Lucian, about the repercussions of me courting you.”

Elain sighed, “I know that Azriel. You may not remember, but I do.”

"I remember the Solstice,” she continued. “I remember what you said. But I also remember the way you looked at me, the way you touched me. I remember the way you made me feel."

Elain paused, her eyes meeting Azriel's. “And I remember being happy in those months after, happy with you.” Azriel's heart swelled with hope. “But it...We didn’t work Azriel, not like that.”

“What do you mean?” Azriel asked, seeming to deflate under Elain’s gaze.  “If we were happy…”

“We were. Initially at least. But being mated to Lucien, even though I hadn’t accepted the bond, strained us. You’ve always struggled with feelings of inadequacy, no matter what I did it wasn’t enough, not to help you get past that.” He’d realised, when he spoke with Rhys on the Solstice, that he hadn’t considered a life with Elain outside the moments he stole before sleep. After he had, the life he’d built in his mind hadn’t factored in her continued bond with Lucien.

“We both wanted each other for the wrong reasons.” She continued, Azriel’s hope morphed into a sick sense of dread. “I wanted control, to be able to dictate something in my life that wasn’t because of the Cauldron. And you were chasing what Rhys and Cassian have.” Elain’s words gave free rein to all the thoughts of inadequacy, an open invitation for the dark whispers of self-deprecation to taunt and tease and belittle him for expecting anything else, for expecting more. Of course, he couldn’t have what his brothers had; he didn’t deserve it.  

Elain’s eyes were knowing, as if she could follow the train of insecurities his thoughts had taken. She closed the distance between them, her features radiant and softened with compassion. She reached out and took his hand, hidden by his side in a whirlpool of shadows, gently clasping it between her own. She had never shied away from his hands; it was one of the things that enamoured Azriel to her. 

“The decision to end our relationship was a mutual one. I think we both recognised that we couldn’t make our relationship what either of us truly needed.” Azriel no longer looked at her face, but where their hands touched. His skin was imperfect from the path the flames left, hers was torn and dirty from the garden. All he had wanted since the Solstice was to feel her touch. Now, as her palms cradled his own, an unexpected wave of instinct that screamed it was the wrong pair of hands made itself known. Azriel forced it back.

“I know that I need you, Elain. You and I understand each other. We could make this work; I know that too.” Elain smiled at him. Not in relief or joy, but the kind of smile that is given when you indulge someone.  

“There are no second chances for us. This is all temporary, what you feel for me. Once you remember you will-“Azriel couldn’t stop himself from interrupting her, addressing the memory that had burned under his skin since their lips had touched.

“You kissed me back.”

“You surprised me. It wasn’t…Azriel I understand that you’re scared but…” Trailing off, she sucked a deep breath in between her teeth. He tore his gaze away from their hands to fix on her face and was surprised to see anger waiting for him there.

“It was a mistake, Azriel.” And there Elain was, throwing back the words he’d said to her at the Solstice. “If you could see the way you’re acting right now, you’d be horrified.” She ripped her hands from his and took a step back. The sudden loss of contact had the warmth her skin had left on his cooling in the morning breeze. Azriel felt mournful at the loss, but any emotion seemed to pale in comparison to the gaping chasm of emptiness that still sat behind his sternum.

A shriek of joy broke the tension between them. Azriel tensed, taken off-guard. His shadows had been unusually quiet, they often disappeared completely in Elain’s presence, but since he woke up he was finding them to be downright uncooperative. They hadn’t alerted him of anyone else’s presence in the gardens. Instinct drove his hand to his thigh as he turned towards the sound. A boy with a mop of dark unruly hair barrelled towards him, wings flapping in excitement. In an outstretched hand spearheading his charge was a battered wooden sword.

Azriel reacted on instinct, shifting his weight to remain standing as the boy threw his arms around his thighs. Hazel eyes met blue-grey, a perfect replica of his High Lady’s. The boy's cheeks were flush from activity, and a wide toothy smile shone from his face as he looked up at Azriel.

Nyx.

Rhys had said he was perfect. Looking at the small joy-filled child a distant part of Azriel agreed. But seeing him, this obvious reminder of the time he had lost was so much worse than looking at the expectant faces of his family.

“You’re back!” His face was still pressed against the soft leather covering Azriel’s thighs. Azriel returned the child’s embrace by placing a hand on his small shoulder, moving slowly and half-expecting the child to flinch away. Nyx didn’t. Instead, his grin seemed to grow impossibly wider, such open displays of affection nurtured in an upbringing that he and his brothers had only dreamed of. Nyx released Azriel’s legs, toy sword still gripped in one hand as he announced without preamble that they were going to play together.

Your POV

You followed the cobblestone path next to the Sidra deeper into the heart of the city. The light coat you wore protected you from the chill in the air as you buried your hands deeper into your pockets. The sun offered little warmth to your face but you basked in the feeling. As beautiful as the seasons were in Velaris, the bleakness winter promised often had you yearning for warmer climes.

It was still early but the city was beginning to bustle with activity, you watched as vendors began opening stalls to display their wares. Observed the groups of people clustered around tables tucked near the rails shielding them from the steep drop of the river’s bank, enjoying steaming drinks and warm food. The breakfast you’d shared with Cassian, all wide grins, bad jokes, and dancing around the elephant in the room, had left you in better spirits than you had expected. Still, seeing all the residents of the city going about their business coursed envy through your veins.

You hadn’t realised you’d stopped and were staring, paying particular attention to a couple at one of the tables. The male, dark-haired with tan skin and high cheekbones, leaned closer to whisper into the female's ear, delicately moving loose hair aside for easier access. She tipped her head to the sky as she laughed, carefree. This couple, these strangers, so open in their happiness and displays of affection loosened the careful hold you’d been maintaining on your emotions, and for a moment you felt as if you’d be washed away. Anger, guilt, and sadness all warred within you. It had been waging since you’d found Azriel and Elain together only yesterday. And underneath it all, a despair that would cripple you if given the chance.

A lone shadow, the one that had been racing ahead cleaving an inquisitive path through the street, danced into your eyeline. There once was a time when one straying so close to your face would cause you to instinctively flinch away in surprise. In the early days of your friendship, Azriel had kept them on a tight leash that had been exhausting to maintain out of fear of scaring you away. Now, after years of cohabitation, you’d grown used to their proclivities and peculiarities. Their cool brush was almost as familiar and comforting as the feeling of Azriel’s warm, scarred hands. It swirled in front of your face now, its movements jerky, verging on agitated, and though they couldn’t speak to you it was clear what they were trying to convey. You were going to be late.

Closing your eyes and taking a few deep, calming breaths you tried to force the emotion back. A hand moved on autopilot out of the depth of your pocket to slip between the buttons of your coat, fingertips resting on the swell of your midriff over warm wool. You could control this, you decided.

One summer night, childfree and enjoyed under the stars whilst sharing a bottle of wine, Feyre had shared the circumstances of her own pregnancy with you. How she’d made a seemingly impossible decision to you at the time, to carry on because she did not want her son to experience anything other than love whilst sequestered in her womb. Now you found yourself vowing the same, that your emotional turmoil would not impact the life growing inside of you.

Resolved, you turned away to continue your journey through the streets, guided by the shadow that weaved in between other pedestrians, just skirting their notice. After a few minutes, you came to a stop outside the warm and brightly lit shop. The medicinal smell of herbs leaked under the door and into the street. The shadow had already disappeared under the frame, scouting ahead for any sign of danger. It returned to you almost lazily, coiling up dark wood towards the handle of the door in invitation.

You clasped a hand over the knob, shadow dancing over your fingers as you pushed open the door. A bell tinkled above your head announcing the arrival of a customer. Dark-stained wood lined the floor of the shop, and a counter full of books and candles sat before massive shelves full of various jars and decanters.

“I would have come to you, child.” Madja’s form appeared in the doorframe to her examination room at the back of the shop.

“I know.” You bristled a little at her referring to you as such. “I had to get out of the house.” You eyed her warily, still not entirely comfortable around the high-fae female. Though you knew Feyre held no ill feelings towards her, you had been incredibly reluctant to allow her to be involved in the care of your pregnancy, citing her blatant disregard for Feyre’s body autonomy. It was only her experience with Illyrian babes that made you acquiesce.

“You’re alone.” It wasn’t a question. There was a marked note of disapproval in Madja’s tone. You had considered briefly asking Cassian to accompany you during breakfast. He’d shared Rhy’s plans for their visit to the Hewn City but had stressed that he would stay behind with you if necessary. But the idea of bringing anyone other than your mate here made you feel worse than the prospect of attending alone. So you’d lied to Cassian, told him you planned on relaxing and organising a few things in the baby’s room and that you didn’t want to bore him with that. He’d been quick to reassure you, but you’d pushed him to go, knowing that Rhys and Feyre relied on him for their games in court posturing.

Azriel had never missed an appointment. For every progress check, every measurement, every sweet cooling sweep of Madja’s magic across your abdomen he’d sat dutifully by your side, tracing gently patterns on the back of the hand he’d gripped in his own. Remembering the way his face lit up, the tears of joy that lined his hazel eyes as Madja informed you that the babe was healthy and your pregnancy was progressing well made the empty chasm in your chest ache.

“Not completely.” You gestured vaguely to the rogue shadow that had accosted you when you’d tried to leave the house this morning, now snaking between jars of brightly coloured poultices and dried ingredients lining the shelves.

She gestured for you to follow her into the room at the back, shutting the door behind you and your shadow companion. You began to shrug off your coat, hanging it on the hook by the door. The examination table creaked under your weight as you hoisted one leg on, wiggling yourself back until your back was flush against the rest. Madja’s wrinkled face was impassive as she watched you struggle. She lowered herself into the chair next to you, lifting the jumper to expose your abdomen. The room was heated with her magic, for which you were thankful.

“How are you feeling?” You kept your eyes on her hands as they moved over the swell of your stomach, skimming over the darker map of marks left by your skin stretching to accommodate. You loved and hated those lines.

“Just fatigued more than anything else.” Madja made a noise of agreement at the back of her throat. She didn’t ask a follow-up question, in the silence you found yourself offering up more information. “I’m hungry all the time. And my feet are so swollen it’s difficult to put on shoes.” The shadow had made its way onto the examination table next to you, it watched Madja’s hands as you did. It strayed closer to where your hands lay clasped, resting on the edge of your stomach just under your breasts. It perched there, half weaving between your fingers and half observing.

“And?” The feel of her magic wasn’t unpleasant, but the longer you stayed under her touch the more uncomfortable you became. Instinct urged you to get away from under her hands, as harmless as they seemed, to put more distance between her and the babe than just the thin layer of skin and organs. You clenched your teeth, on edge as the examination continued.

“And what?” You knew what she was probing for, to discuss Azriel.

“Your mate, girl. Don’t play stupid. I want to know how you’re handling the stress of this situation. I don’t need to tell you that it isn’t good for the babe.” Your eyes strayed from her hands for a moment, meeting brown before averting them again. You wanted to be anywhere but here. And you certainly didn’t want to be discussing this with the spindrift-haired fae.

“I’m fine.” She scoffed at that. Her hands finally stilled, pulling away from you. Tugging the jumper back down, you swung your legs around perching on the edge of the examination table. You picked at the nail of your thumb, anxiety starting to build.

“There are no medals for a brave face.”

“How are things?” She allowed the diversion. Her pause prompted you to finally look at her. Madja’s face remained impassive. Panic started to set in, its tight grip made it difficult for you to suck in your next breath. You and Azriel had known this pregnancy wouldn’t be without risk, but you’d thought the similarities of physique and bone density you shared with the Illyrians would shield you against major complications.

“You’re progressing well,” Madja said. “Only a few more weeks, I expect.” You released the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, relief flooding through you. It was short-lived as Madja opened her mouth to speak again.

“I am however concerned about you.”

“I’m fine.” Perhaps if you said it aloud enough you could make yourself believe it. It seemed that Madja wasn’t going to allow that though, incredulity written on her face.

“If that’s all you’re going to say girl, we’ll get nowhere.” You held your tongue against informing her to mind her own business, knowing that Rhys held a particular soft spot for the ancient fae and wouldn’t take kindly to you insulting her. “You’re…situation,” she paused briefly, feeling the fire developing in your gaze as she pushed. “The stress increases the risk of preterm labour.” You nodded, continuing to pick at your fingernail. “I know of healers, ones that specialise in the mind. I could-“

You cut her off before she could finish. “I don’t need a healer, I just need my mate,” voice breaking on the last word as traitorous tears brewed at the line of your lashes. Madja reached out a wrinkled hand to clasp your own, her skin warm above yours, her face sympathetic.

“It could help, acknowledging our emotions gives them less power over us.” The idea of explaining to a stranger the events of the past few days filled you with dread. The agony of watching Azriel collapse bleeding on the steps of the River House, of tugging on the bond only to find strands that led to nowhere as you had pleaded for him to wake up. Your mate, usually so strong and unyielding, seemed almost fragile as Rhys and Cassian had manhandled him into the House. Sitting at his bedside after, watching each breath he took as he slumbered, every shift of the babe inside you filled you with fresh grief. You’d told him everything, every mundane thought that passed through your head as you tried to distract yourself from the thought that Azriel may never wake up and meet his child.

And you’d been so tired, with the pregnancy and sitting dutifully at Azriel’s bedside, that when Elain had offered to relieve you to get some rest you’d felt grateful. You couldn’t have predicted what happened when he woke. The likelihood of him reacting favourably to someone he considered to be a stranger at his sick bed was absurd. Still the guilt gnawed at you; if you’d stayed perhaps things wouldn’t have turned out as disastrously as they had.  

“No.” You considered for a moment, before adding a thank you as an afterthought. Madja sighed, exasperated.

“Well, if you’re unwilling to do that then you must promise to take it easy. Bed rest, no magic.” The thought of languishing your time away in the house alone irked you, but it was more agreeable than the alternative. You inclined your head in agreement.  

Azriel

The tension in the room was palpable, and Azriel couldn't decide which was worse: the fury etched across Rhys' face or the wounded hurt concealed beneath. A dark power coiled behind Rhys's desk, while Feyre's portrait watched from above, her eyes twinkling with mischief. In the hallowed confines of Rhys's study, Azriel couldn't help but be reminded of a similar, scolding conversation, one where Rhys had warned him to stay away from Elain.

"And if I catch you panting after her again," Rhys had said, "I'll make sure you regret it."

Now, once more, his brother was fuming over Azriel's dalliance with her. And as in the past, when faced with his brother's wrath, Azriel donned his well-practiced mask of ice, a facade carefully crafted in the darkness and shadows of his childhood.

Rhys' voice, as sharp as a blade, pierced the stillness of the room. "What in the world are you thinking?" Azriel felt a surge of cold rage in response, but Rhys remained unyielding. He had always understood the volatile undercurrent beneath Azriel's surface and was adept at meeting it with his own resolute strength.

"Madja ordered you to rest.” Rhys continued. “Not only did you defy her orders, but you also lied to me.” Azriel broke the eye contact he’d been holding, loathing himself for the deception. “I find you here, pestering Elain when she made it abundantly clear she wants nothing to do with you.”

"I had to," Azriel protested, his voice tinged with stubbornness.

Rhys sighed, gesturing around the room. "This," he said, encompassing Azriel, "all of it is temporary. We will find a way to heal you and restore your memories. In the meantime, if you could refrain from setting your life ablaze, it would be greatly appreciated."

Azriel's gaze hardened, his reluctance evident. "I can't just forget her, Rhys. You know I can't.”

Rhys paused for a moment; his eyes filled with compassion. Then, he played his last card. " Az, I understand how hard this is for you, but you also have responsibilities. You have a mate, one who carries your child. I can't stand by and watch you ruin things now, only to hate yourself later when you regain your memories.”

A whirlwind of conflicting emotions churned within Azriel. The burden of his forgotten memories weighed heavily on his shoulders, and it was a struggle to reconcile his past self with the man he had become. He couldn't help but feel a profound sense of loss for the memories that had been stolen from him. Loss of Elain, of the history they’d shared together. But the thought of having a mate he couldn’t recall, someone whom he so obviously shared a life with, was both a source of guilt and deep frustration. It was as though he had been robbed of a part of himself.

His thoughts swirled with questions and doubts about the nature of their relationship, about Elain. These questions gnawed at him, a relentless reminder he was living a life that he couldn’t recognise as his own, despite being surrounded by his family.

Azriel clenched his jaw, his reluctance growing stronger. “You're just going to leave your child without a father?" Rhys' voice was firm, and Azriel felt the weight of the responsibility.

"Of course not," Azriel replied, his tone strained.

"So you'll what, meet her during the birth? After the babe's born?" Rhys pressed.

Azriel hesitated before saying, "She's a stranger, Rhys. I can't just pretend everything is normal when I don't even know who she is."

The room remained shrouded in an oppressive silence, the unspoken weight of their conversation bearing down on them. Azriel's reluctance and frustration grappled with Rhys' unwavering insistence, and the seconds ticked by in limbo. It was then, amidst the heavy tension, that Rhys's voice broke the impasse.

"So meet her," Rhys said, his words soft yet unwavering.

Azriel blinked, taken aback by the simplicity of Rhys' suggestion. His eyes locked onto his brother's. "What?"

"Meet her," Rhys repeated with quiet determination. "And she won't be a stranger."

The clarity of Rhys' statement struck Azriel like a revelation. He had been so consumed by the paralyzing fear of the unknown and the torment of his stolen memories that he hadn't contemplated the possibility of forging new connections.

Thank you for reading, to everyone who asked to be added to the tag-list I think I've included everyone I can but some blogs I couldn't tag so apologies if that's yours.

Tag list: @kalulakunundrum @impossibelle @we-were-beautiful @going-through-shit @mulansaucey @sv0430 @naturakaashi @amygdtjhddzvb @airstrip-0 @acourtofsmutandstarlight @myheartfollower @whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @valencia-rou @amysangel @furiousbooklover @phoenixgurl030 @imnotsiriusyouare @i-am-infinite @cat-or-kitten @marvelouslovely-barnes @gretavanbobatea @tothestarsandwhateverend @furiousbooklover @esposadomd @meritxellao @kemillyfreitas @juneangel21 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @luvmoo @originalcrusadetrash @mandowhatnow @bangtanbecks @bookslut420 @goldenmagnolias @inkedaztec @opheliaas-stuff @spongehappy @oingo233 @unstablefemme

[astroboots]

Every You Every Me Issue #3

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You are determined to meet your Spider-benefactor face to face and you go to ever increasing extreme lengths to do so. Problem is, Miguel O'hara is very uncooperative to your plans.

Word count: 5,500 words.

Content: Slowest of the burn, so slow you wonder if it's even burning. Near death experiences, the state of the economy and how expensive it is to live in a big city, the emotional whiplash of Miguel O'Hara.

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

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You saw them in the window display of a bakery in Greenwich Village. Round sugar cookies with red frosting and white eyes, decorated as a tribute to everyone's favorite neighborhood Spiderman.

Before you had time to properly think things over (would he even like the cookies? Is he on a strict superhero diet and workout plan? What if he's gluten intolerant?) you were already standing in front of the cash register having a dozen of them wrapped up in fancy crinkly paper and were $72 dollars poorer. 

Charging six dollars per cookie is practically highway robbery, but that's par for the course with New York bakeries. You wouldn’t be surprised if every bakery in New York was already a part of Wilson Fisk’s criminal empire. 

As you push open the door, box in hand, you wonder wryly to yourself why Spiderman’s ruder alter ego isn't there to save you from that.

You wonder, for Superheroes, what classifies as an event worth intervening in and what everyday citizens need to be saved from?

Financial ailment doesn't quite seem to qualify from what you've been able to glean so far.

Tony Stark, for all the wealth he’s amassed (a large enough treasure hoard that he would be capable of buying the whole planet of Mars according to Forbes) isn't massively involved with charities. He only donates to the one: his own. And the Stark Foundation is really just Tony Stark paying reparations for the damage he and his buddies caused in the first place.

Thor is an actual deity, and you still remember that write-up in Esquire magazine, where local waiters in New Mexico had called him a terrible tipper and a habitual smasher of glassware.

Assault and battery is up in the air. There are accounts of Superheroes intervening; that Tiktok videos of She-Hulk breaking up a bar fight that went viral a few weeks back. But then equally, there are memes of Doctor Strange peeking out the window of Sanctum Sanctorum watching a street fight unfold,, utterly uninterested in getting involved. The internet labeled it as "mood". 

As for murder and mayhem, there's a longstanding public debate as to whether Superheroes cause more than they prevent. Case in point: that Moon Knight guy that paints the streets of London red.

There is no rule book written to explain how Superheroes decides who is worth saving and who is not.

Does one have to be important and have a material effect on the state of the world?

If so, you fall pitifully short. The most world-changing decision you made as of late was deciding to opt out of utensils on your last GrubHub order to help save the environment.

So it makes you wonder: Why on earth has this non-costume accurate Spiderman saved you, not once, not twice, but 13 times to date?

That’s just the first of many questions you’d like to ask him. What does he know that you don’t? Does he know why the universe seems to be out to get you lately? Or why death itself is following you everywhere you go, nipping at your heels?

You haven’t had the chance to ask him anything, because despite all of your encounters, you haven't met him face to face since that very first time. 

Inconveniently, you don't exactly have a way of contacting him. Superheroes aren't listed in the phone book. 

With no other way to reach out, you go at it the old fashioned way. You write him a note from a page you've ripped out of your notebook:

‘Thank you for saving me. Can we meet? I have questions.’

You place the note on the window sill. Setting the plate with $72 dollars worth of Spiderman cookies on top of the left corner of the paper to make sure it doesn't get blown away in the wind. Then you leave the window open for the first time since you've moved into this apartment before heading to bed.

There's nothing else to do but to wait. 

You wake to the spit and splatter of rain against your window. It's gray outside, and the cookies you set out the night before remain untouched. You frown at the sight, but you can't say you're surprised.

There was never any real indication that he was lurking around you. Superheroes are bound to have more interesting things on their schedule than stalking a random insurance employee.

You don't know why you thought this would work in the first place.

Getting out of bed, you walk up to your window to inspect the scene. The note is where you have left it, ink a little smeared from the rain, where the plate has kept it in place on the right corner.

That seems odd, now that you think about it. You stare at the note, eye drawn to the watermarks. Why are there water stains bleeding into the paper if your window was closed? As crappy as your rundown apartment can be, water damage is the one thing you haven't had issues with.

You draw your eyes to the closed window being smattered with the rain outside. Didn't you leave the window open last night? You're pretty sure you did, hoping that the open window would be seen as a gesture of invitation. You had left it open… right?

You did.

You're sure you did.

He must’ve been here.

Rude, not-costume-accurate Spiderman was here.

Right?

Your eyes flicker back to the window.

Or maybe you did close the window?

You close your eyes trying to recall your evening, packing the length of your apartment as you replay the memory. Suddenly, you're not so sure anymore. You always close your window, and even though you had every intention of keeping it open last night, who is to say you didn't close it out of sheer habit?

It's strange. Because if he was here, he would've spotted the note. But it's in the same spot you left it yesterday right under the plate on the left side of it...

You eye the undisturbed note tucked under the right corner of the plate.

Wait, wait. Didn't you put the note under the left side of the plate?

You did.

Yes, you definitely did.

Which means, he was here... Right?

You feel like you are going insane.

Are you seeing things that are not there? Was he actually here and if so why did he go to such lengths to pretend otherwise. Why would he passive-aggressively gaslight you into thinking he was never here?

You decide on a redo.

Because if you can't trust yourself and your questionable memory, you can trust a recording.

A teddy bear nanny cam sets you back $50. Not cheap, but not as outrageous as your stale-cardboard-tasting Spiderman cookies. 

You set it up on your dresser opposite your window and link it to your phone as per the instructions.

As for the bait. After having tasted those brick cookies for yourself, putting it out for a second night for a man who has saved your life repeatedly didn't seem right. You decide to bake them yourself this time.

The added bonus is that you get to mix blue food coloring into the frosting for the decoration that goes on top. In retrospect, the red Spiderman cookies from last time might’ve implied that you’re calling him a knock-off Spiderman. 

Besides, even with the cost of living crisis: a bag of flour, baking powder, unsalted butter, sugar and eggs cost a lot less than $72 dollars.

This time, you don't write him a sloppily put together note. You decide to write him a proper letter. 

If he did visit your apartment, (and you're not just going insane) the fact that he moved the note meant that he must've read it. 

This note didn’t work. 

It must not have been compelling enough, you were kind of in a hurry… 

You’ll have to write something better this time. Longer. More emotionally compelling. Surely if you take the time to really explain your plight, you can make him understand why it’s so important he talks to you! 

The problem is that it’s hard to sound serious when it’s written on lined paper from your ruled notebook. 

That won’t do. You go to the nearest stationery store in your neighborhood, a chain outlet of Paper Source to get yourself some decent looking stationary paper with a matching colored envelope to boot. 

You immediately regret this part of your plan, because it ends up setting you back another $26 dollars. Why is 6 pieces of paper so damn expensive anyhow? Surely there’s a few trees left in the world to chop down?!

$102 dollars down in your bank balance, you sit down at your dining table that night, pen in hand and begin writing. You pour your heart onto the pages, setting out in as precise words as you can manage the effect your near death incidents have had on you. 

How scared you are, how confused you are, but also how grateful you are that he's saved you, again and again and again. That you believe if you and him can just meet in person and talk, if you could ask questions and figure out why this is happening, then maybe you can find a way to stop it from happening again.

Then you fold the letter and tuck it neatly into the matching envelope and slide it under the left side of the cookie plate and go to sleep.

When you wake the next morning, nothing seems out of the ordinary.

The cookies are still neatly arranged on your plate. The letter snugly tucked underneath it.

On the left side this time, you note. 

It doesn’t look like he came. 

The only thing is that you swear that the envelope is now several inches further to the left than where you left it last night.

Again, maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

You pull up your phone, opening the app linked to the nanny cam and press play.

There is nothing but the still frame of your studio apartment, your bed to the right and your window square in the camera-view. You speed up the video, but the only thing that takes you by surprise is that you apparently toss a lot more in your sleep than you thought.

The camera footage goes well into 3am, and you’re resigning yourself to the fact that this was all down to your imagination.

He didn't come last night. Probably didn't come the night before. Most likely you woke up from the rain, closed the window and were too sleepy to remember.

You sigh, setting down your phone on the table, prepared to let this whole endeavor go.

On your screen, a smudged shadow appears in the corner of the window. You jump to your feet from your seat, knocking your chair over in the process with a raucous thud. The dark figure grows larger on your screen, dark navy blue and lines of stark red that perches itself onto your window sill.

YES! yes-yes-yes! You knew it. You fucking goddamn knew it!

You were right.

Adrenaline buzzes victoriously in your veins, and you grip your phone harder. Your heart is pounding so fast and hard in your chest you can hear the drumming beat of it in your ears.

He was here!

(You're not cuckoo for cocoa puffs).

You watch as his large figure sits on your window sill. He's still wearing his mask, and while you can't make out the expressions underneath, the outline where his eyes would have been, painted in dark blue, now narrow into a slit on your screen. 

There's a hostility emanating from that glare that you are able to sense all the way from the opposite side of the screen. He stares down at the plate of cookies suspiciously. Then he just stays there, unmoving, having a staring competition with the cookies you baked in his image.

In the privacy of your living room, you have the luxury of taking the time to get a proper look at him without interruption. It's hard to ignore the fact of just how tightly fitted to his skin that suit is. The dark blue fabric clings to every line of muscles on his body and it makes your cheek prickle with heat when you look. It feels voyeuristic somehow, but you can't help but think that the more modest alternative would be if he had worn nothing at all.

He's absurdly ripped. Muscular doesn't even begin to describe it. Broad shoulders and a narrow tapered waist segueing into obscenely thick and defined thighs that have your eyes linger for far too long. You shake your head to snap yourself out of it, Jesus you are acting like a creep. This isn’t OnlyFans, though lord knows you paid for this privilege! $102 for a cam video! 

On the footage, there is finally movement. He reaches for a cookie, bringing it to his mouth. The blue fabric dematerializes on his lower face until it reveals his tanned skin and that ridiculously cut jaw of his.

His mouth parts. Fangs protrude where his canine teeth are supposed to be and the sight makes you nearly drop your phone in shock.

Is this Spiderman a vampire? Or is he like a tarantula Spiderman with fangs to match?

You watch in suspended horror as he bites into the cookie, those sharp fangs of his are in plain view as he chews. 

He leans over to reach for a second cookie and all your trepidation is forgotten for a second, because if he’s reaching for a second one, it must mean he likes them. You grin at your screen, culinary pride beating out any caution or fear you may have had. 

Then he lifts up the plate, picking up the letter. The anticipation is too much. You press your face closer to the screen to try to get closer, because your screen is too small to pick up any possible nuances in his expression. 

He's carefully opening the envelope as he starts to read. It's impossible to tell what he's thinking. There's no visible change of facial expressions in the outline of his masked eyes. His mouth, which is bared to you, doesn't so much as twitch.

It doesn’t take long for him to read it. When he's done, he tucks the letter back under the plate. Then he bends down over the plate of cookies, and for a moment you think he’s going in for a third. Instead his hand lingers on the plate, before he starts to slide the remaining cookies around the plate to your confusion. You watch in confusion as he picks up the cookies one by one to space them out more evenly. You don't quite understand what he's trying to do, wait… is Vampire spider man re-arranging the cookies to make it less obvious he’s eaten them?!  

The bastard really was trying to gaslight you into thinking he was never here.

Once he’s seemingly satisfied with his work, he straightens up, turning until his back is against the camera preparing to leave.

To your surprise his face turns around to take one last look inside. The direction of his gaze settles on your bed where you're sleeping. His eyes lingers there for a handful of moments, inscrutable over the mask.

Is he sad? Angry? You can't tell.

He finally looks away and then he leaps off the window.

Politely asking him in writing is clearly not working out for you.

You decide the only recourse you have left is to try and physically catch him.

Such a simple sentiment that had sounded so easy in your head, but you quickly run into logistical issues when you try to put it into practice.

The man is built like a tank. Can leap off of skyscrapers (and the window of your sixth floor) without breaking a sweat. Potentially also a vampire.

You're not exactly sure how you're supposed to catch someone like that.

Your google research is off to a shaky start. Somehow you end up down a rabbit hole of tutorials for non-lethal mouse traps. It's not very useful inspiration. Because you can't exactly build a 7 foot large cage trap to catch him the next time he comes around to help himself to cookies.

But the concept of having a lure trap set with bait seemed transferable and so you decide to go for a classic spring trap that you’ll modify. No cage, instead you set up a DIY contraption with a sturdy string attached to a bell meant to quickly alert you to his presence next time he comes around. 

The game plan is to wake up and corner him before he has a chance to abscond.

As for bait, you google things that vampires might like in a half-thought of plan it might be applicable. Unfortunately, there are no young virgin maidens you know of as far as the eye can see in New York (yourself included) so that was a no go. 

So you default back to cookies (because hey, at least it worked last time).

Amazon has your whole set up shipped and delivered by the next day and you implement phase 3 of your rapidly escalating attempts to reach out to him.

Unfortunately, it doesn't work. For one he doesn’t show up that night. Or the night after. It takes him four whole days to show up again and when he does, he spots your trap a mile away. When you review the footage on the cam the next day, he avoids the rope and the whole mechanism effortlessly. 

There's no sound on the nanny cam so you can't be sure of it. But you think from the way the line of his shoulders shake as he steps over the rope that he might be laughing at you. He’s definitely seen through few supervillain traps in his days so in hindsight the probability of success here was low.

He does however eat three of your cookies this time.

You get a little bit more desperate after that.

You decide that if a trigger trap to wake you won't work, then obviously, the next best thing is for you to simply stay awake.

The problem is that he doesn't show up every night. His visits are entirely random without an obvious pattern. Sometimes he shows up two nights in a row, sometimes he goes several days without making a guest appearance on your nanny cam footage.

It means you end up downing a whole carafe of coffee, and several energy drinks, every night for a week straight. Entirely unable to predict what night he's going to appear, you keep dooming your already tiny bladder to a dozen visits to the bathroom before the clock has even struck nine.

The saddest part of it is that despite being wired on enough coffee to power a nuclear power station by yourself, you never end up staying awake the whole night through. 

More often than not you end up falling asleep sitting upright by the dining table waiting up for him. Then the next morning you wake with a wry neck, a sore back and your face pressing up uncomfortably against the wooden surface.

But you're nothing if not tenacious. Tonight makes it the sixth night in a row that you’re doing this. You stare down the can of red bull on your dining table as you pick it up and lift it to your mouth. You’re going to keep going, hardness of the wooden table be damned.

You're surprised to find yourself waking up feeling well rested without any aches. Surrounded by the softness of your quilt and your even softer memory foam pillow. 

The luxurious comfort of it all is such a relief that you don't even question it at first. Don't question why you're in bed when the last thing you remember was nodding off against the palm of your hand and the hard discomfort of your dining chair.

In the sanctuary of your bed, you just dig your face deeper into your pillow and snooze for as long as you can. Ignoring the bright sun pouring in from your windows until it sears unforgivingly against your skin and you decide that it’s finally time to start your day.

By habit, the first thing you do as you get up from bed is to pull up the nanny cam app on your phone and press play on last night's recording.

There's nothing of interest. Seeing yourself read a book by the dining table and chugging down a series of Red Bull is hardly riveting television.

Yesterday you barely even make it until midnight because you can see yourself nod off at the table, head sliding off your palm and plonking down on the dining table. You flinch at the impact, vaguely impressed that the collision didn't wake you.

Your (maybe vampire) Spiderman turns up at 3 am.

Much like the times before, he perches himself on your window sill, peering inside (presumably to check for any new traps you might have laid out for him).

His broad frame stiffens, and then, with a smooth leap, he's inside your apartment.

Excitement rushes to your head, because this is the furthest he’s gone and the first time he's come all the way inside instead of just lurking on the window sill. 

He goes over to your bed, flinging the quilt to the side. He seems stressed, the dark shape of his eyes wide as he stands over the empty bed when it dawns on you what’s happening on screen right now. 

Oh, he's worried.

He looks over at you, hunched over the dining table, sound asleep and oh god, is that drool on your cheek? 

The line of his shoulder relaxes. The broadness of his chest rises then dips with a heavy exhale. Something warm trickles in your stomach at his obvious concern for you.

The mystery is confounding. You don't know him. You've never met him, but for some unfathomable reason he cares enough about you to genuinely care about your safety and you want to know why. 

He makes his way over to the table where you are. The mask slowly ebbs away, uncovering his familiar chin, cheeks and then finally his eyes. An other-worldly shade of crimson that has you spellbound and transfixed on the screen. 

You find yourself raising your phone closer to your face, trying to get a better look at him. Cursing the crappy quality of the video. You don't know what to make of the way he's looking at you. It's intensely focused, almost sad, and… and… And you don't know what, but it makes your heart leap up into your throat, chest clenching tight.

He bends over, wrapping his broad arms under your knees. He’s careful in his movements, cupping your head as it lolls to the side until you’re comfortably resting against his shoulders. It’s a practiced movement, as if he’s done this a hundred times before as he picks you up and carries you bridal style to your bed. Gingerly tucking you under the quilt with something that looks a lot like tenderness. 

It leaves you with more questions than ever.

Ever since you started your caffeine chugging marathon, work has become a new kind of hell.

You're already half-asleep and nodding off at your desk by 10.30. Eyes sore and strained as you stare at the bright screen and try to make sense of the endless columns that are all different and also all the same until your brain refuses to try to make sense of any of it anymore.

You need to go for a walk. Clear your head.

Maybe pop out for a coffee... smoothie. Definitely smoothie.

Outside, the heat is oppressive, far too hot for only being May. Definitely too hot when there are this many tourists around. The street is so crowded you can barely make an inch of headway, trapped behind a family with a stroller in front, trapped in front of a pushy businessman who keeps stepping on your heels every two steps, and trapped next to a guy who is really into his airpods.

With the excess of caffeine still trying to make its way out of your system and the unforgiving heat of the sun beating against your back, it all has the effect of making you feel like you’re hung over. Your breakfast is roiling in your stomach. Sweat plastered against every inch of clothing. You don't know why you do this to yourself.

Every morning you tell yourself never again, and yet every night, there you were, spending half of your disposable income on energy drinks.

Starting from today, you're going cold turkey on the stuff. You've finally given up on trying to stay awake long enough to catch your super-stalker in his cookie burglar routine. Endlessly chugging down caffeine every night is not working out for you. Neither are the DIY mouse traps.

You're running low on ideas of how to trap him. You have nothing else to go on anymore. No idea on how to summon the man. The only time you know he'll be there is the moment before each near-death when he's there to save you.

What are you supposed to do with that? Purposely throw yourself off another building to lure him out?

That's crazy!

…Right?

But maybe... No! Definitely crazy.

Someone screams, and you snap out of your thoughts. There's yelling and terrified shrieks all around you. You're caught in the throng of people, panicked bodies pushing and pressing up against you, all of them trying to run the other way.

You dig in your heels, bracing yourself against the stampede of people. They’re pushing in from every direction until it’s impossible to move an inch. It’s hard to turn your body, when second after second, someone is pummeling into your side, knocking into your bruising shoulder. You barely manage to crane your neck back far enough when you finally spot it. 

A red-green truck with a gigantic taco on its roof is careening towards you across the pavement, no driver behind the wheel. The sea of bodies parts around the out-of-control vehicle, people running left, right and forward to escape being crushed under the wheels.

There’s no time to react. It’s too close. Too fast. 

A hand clutches at your wrist and pulls you backwards, your vision obscured as your face is pressed up against a familiar solid warmth. 

"Hold onto me," he tells you, and you do. 

You're held firm against him as the ground underneath your feet disappears, and everything feels weightless. Then all you hear is a loud thunderous crash.

Your feet touch back down on the ground, and the strong protective hold on you unravels.

When you open your eyes he's already gone. You're left on the corner of Lexington Avenue, still trying to catch your breath. The mob of people is still there all around you, but the panic has passed now, everyone is standing still. Everyone is observing the wreckage of the run amok truck that is now flipped onto its side, rendered harmless.

Miraculously, somehow, nobody around you seems visibly injured.

From a distance, you can hear sirens approaching with a deafening wail. 

But your mind is elsewhere, on the shade of the familiar dark blue and red as you were being saved seconds ago. On his gentle voice in your ear that still thrums pleasantly in your chest. 

You want to see him again. 

It's Friday, and you break half an hour early for your designated 40 minutes of lunch, taking the elevator directly to the 72nd floor, which is under construction to renovate it into an open observation deck for the public next year.

The thing with commercial skyscrapers is that nowadays most of them have safety glass panels on all outside spaces of the upper floors to ensure that it is impossible to climb up the buildings and jump.

It's a safety feature that became standard after the financial crisis of 2008.

Turns out that imposing an 80 hour work week on your employees, where they don't get to see their family or friends or have a life outside of work, and then stripping them of their financial security makes a lot of people miserable and suicidal (who knew?)

The elevator pings open, and you exit into the construction zone, carefully avoiding the various tools scattered across the half-finished deck. On Fridays, the construction workers on the site leave by lunchtime, and the space is empty of people. 

Step by step, you walk up towards the edge of the terrasse, until you stand before the temporary safety rail, looking out over the sprawling city below you. Cars look like tiny moving pebbles and the people, a hive of ants scurrying from street to street.

It’s a dizzying view. Both beautiful and grotesque in its grandeur. The 72nd floor will be 28 more floors to fall from than the 44th was.

The air around you seems to thin, and your stomach wants to crawl down to your feet and hold on to steady ground.

Taking a deep breath, you lift the hem of your shirt, running your hand over the safety harness strapped around your waist, reassuring yourself it's still there. Then you feel along the attached cord, using the carabiner at the end to clip it around the rod of the safety rail. 

Being impulsive and daring in your quest is one thing. Reckless and stupid is another.

It’s not a real climbing rope and harness. Turns out professional safety gear is shockingly expensive, but you found a knock-off resistance training set, complete with harness and stretchy bungee cord rope, on Amazon for a very reasonable $15. You’ve already spent $72 on cookies, $50 dollars for a nanny cam set, and an extortionate $26 for stationary paper in your never-ending quest to lure out Fake Spiderman. You figure a rope is a rope, and you're not paying $100 more to get ripped off by the big climbing corporations. But you’re also not willing to go without.

After all, you've already fallen from the Chrysler building once, and you're not angling for a repeat.

As intent as you are on seeing your Spider-benefactor eye to eye, you're not quite prepared to die for the privilege. Your plan is just to make it look like you are going to jump.

Any superhero worth his dime wouldn't actually let you fall before they would be willing to save you.

That would be a real dick move.

You give your impromptu safety rig one last tug to make sure it's secure, then straighten your posture. Grabbing a hold of the metal rail, you hoist yourself up. You clamber onto it, gripping tight with shaking hands as you swing a leg over, straddling the bar.

Left leg then the right, until all of you are on the other side of the railing.

Then you stay there.

One second. Then two. You close your eyes and try not to look down at the many, many floors below, and how one gust of strong wind could probably knock you over and have you falling down the building again. You count the seconds that pass you by. 

Five. Six. Seven.

A strong gust of wind blows through your side, and your legs buckle at the strong resistance, hand gripping down on the metal railing to hold yourself steady so you don't fall off.

Eightnineten! Ok. Fuck. No. You're good. Fuck this! He's not going to come.

If he didn’t come when you climbed over, he's not going to turn up now.

You briefly let go of the railing with one hand, adjusting your grip so you can climb back to safety. The sun beating down on your back disappears and is eaten up by a large and looming shadow. Every hair on the back of your neck prickles in warning.

Your reaction is too slow, you don't even have time to turn around to see what caused it. Then all you hear is an angry booming voice right next to your ear.

"Have you lost your goddamned mind?!"

You panic, flinging out your hand to catch the bar, but the hard metal of the railings isn't there anymore.

There is a sharp metallic snap. The safety rope around your waist splits from the hasp.

He’s calling your name.

The world tilts and everything goes upside down along with it. Your stomach sinks with a sickening plummet, legs dropping through into zero gravity as you find yourself staring up at the blue and endless New York sky.

Then you're falling from the Chrysler building.

Again.

Fuck!

~ Next Issue

Dedication & Credits: To my dearest @thirstworldproblemss who has to constantly listen to me jabber on about this day and night endlessly and forever. She is in every sense of the word a collaborator on this project. She brainstorms, she pitches in, she edits and she beta-reads. This and so many of my works would not exist without her, please send her all the love if you enjoyed this story.

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

[backmuscles21]

You're Supposed To Be Ours

Recoms x Reader

Summary: You are an RDA chemist, you have caught the eyes of all the recoms. They can be a little possessive. So, when they see you talking with someone else, they need to teach you your place and where you belong. Warnings: smut, belly bulge, size kink, begging, spanking, orgasm denial/delay, punishment, possessive behaviour, sub/dom undertones

You came to Pandora as a chemist, they needed you to run tests on water, plants, rocks, and other elements. Basically, what they wanted you to do was make a periodic table for the things on Pandora.

Easier said than done.

However, you did love your job and you loved the planet. One thing you loved the most about your job was the new relationship you started. You have an avatar body for when you go on missions to collect samples to test and figure out their composition. Since you have a trillion-dollar avatar body and were only a scientist, you needed protection. And what better protection than the new Na’vi recom soldiers? Plus, they were tall, strong, and muscular.

So that is how you met your new lovers. You learned that they were a little hard-headed, very strong, very loyal, and pretty jealous. Not necessarily jealous of each other, they saw themselves as a family, but with literally anyone else. When you told them you liked boy boys and girls you couldn’t talk to a single soul without them feeling a tinge of jealousy. Some were good at hiding it others had it written all over their face, it didn’t really bother you too much, you had them.

You would go to work and then go back to them, sometimes in your human body or in your avatar. Not too many people knew you were with all the recoms, the only people that really knew were some of the people in your department. They had seen you with them when they dropped you off or came by to pick you up after you finished work or when they would visit you while you were working. It was always someone different, but it was always one of your tall blue lovers.

Some of your co-workers liked to pick on you a little for being with them and fucking the aliens. You didn’t care, you loved them deeply, and you wouldn’t ever trade them for the world.

But one day, when one of them came to visit you while you were working, they saw you talking with some of your co-workers. You were laughing and smiling and you just tucked your hair behind your ears, you did that when you were flustered.

It was Prager who came to visit you, he was feeling tired and in a cuddly mood and he always sought you out when he got that way. He was angry that you’d be talking with this guy that you worked with. You should be laughing with anyone but them, you were theirs. So, Prager went back to the recom common room to tell everyone what he saw.

He stormed back to the common room, punched in the door code and stomped in.

“What happened? Did she say she had to work? Cause I told you so,” Lopez said with a smirk.

Prager didn’t answer, instead, he gathered everyone in the common area.

“What’s going on? Care to explain?” Miles asked.

“I went to see her and I saw her but she was talking and laughing with another guy. They were supposed to be working and she even tucked her hair behind her ears. She was flirting with him; I couldn’t believe it. So, I came back here to tell you guys,” Prager explained.

“What was she doing?” Mansk asked, always trying to work out situations, giving you the benefit of the doubt.

“She was by her microscope, she was writing on some papers, but then she stopped and she gave him her undivided attention,” Prager explained

“Well, let’s go see this then,” Lyle said wanting to confirm it.

Miles put his arm out to stop Lyle, “no. We wait till she finishes work, she has to anyway. Then we will confront her. You know she can’t lie worth a damn and will crumble under us. She can also explain her side of the story and we will go from there.”

“Are we gonna punish her?” Walker asked with a slight smirk.

“Depends. She might have an explanation and then we will just tone down our usual punishment. If she doesn’t deny it and says what she did, we will use a lesser punishment. If she tries to hide it and denies it, we will go no bars held. She knows her safe word,” Miles explained to everyone.

“When is she done?” Zdog asked.

“A few hours. I’ll pick her up. I intimidate her the most,” Miles said as he smirked at his fellow soldiers.

“So, what do we do till then?” Ja asked.

“We could try to get her out early. Maybe do a random walk-by and see if it’s continuing?” Fike suggested.

“That’s the first smart thing you’ve ever said,” Lopez smirked.

“Go fuck yourself,” Fike said to Lopez with a scoff and smile while rolling his eyes.

So, a few hours passed and Miles left a couple of minutes before you were supposed to finish for the day. He walked in front of the glass doors of the chemistry lab, there were multiple scientists working away. Then his eyes landed on you, looking into different Petri dishes and writing stuff down. He fell in love with you all over again, he couldn't believe how gorgeous you were. Both your human body and your avatar body were absolutely stunning, he understood why people wanted you, not that they’d ever get you.

He opened the door and walked in, he saw you look up and smile brightly. He walked over to you and placed his hands on your shoulders and watched you finish your notes.

“I’m almost done give me five minutes.”

“Take your time cupcake,” Miles said patting your shoulders.

He noticed your co-workers staring at you and him and then whispering to each other, he knew they liked to gossip. He wasn’t bothered by them and he knew you weren’t either but he still didn’t like it. He gave them a slight scowl and turned back towards you.

Finally, you and him left the lab and went to the recom-only areas. Once you entered the room and saw all of your lovers right there you were surprised.

“Woah, what’s going on? Did I miss something? Is there a special occasion?” You said slightly nervous.

Miles came up behind you and placed his hands on your shoulders and squeezed a little bit. “We needed to talk to you about something and we need you to be honest.”

“What’s up?” You said it slowly, you were kind of scared.

“Were you flirting with one of your co-workers today?” Miles asked.

“Flirting? You think I would purposely flirt with someone I work with? That’s like giving that person a death wish. I wasn’t trying to flirt with anyone, if that happened, I’m sorry that it did, it was not my intention.”

“But you were flustered. I saw you tuck your hair behind your ears,” Prager said.

“I was using my microscope a lot today and I forgot my hair tie. You know how I hate my hair in my face. I just happened to tuck my hair behind my ears a lot today.”

“But you were laughing and talking with him then you looked down and tucked your hair behind your ears. You were flustered, he made you flustered.”

“I swear I never intended for that to happen. I have to talk with my coworkers, I need them to tolerate me. I work with them and there’s no replacing them or me so we have to get along. I promise I was not intentionally flirting with anyone I work with.”

“But you were being friendly,” Lyle said.

“Yeah, but I need to be. I need them to like me. I’m friendly to anyone I talk to. I don’t talk to a lot of people other than you guys but I’m not an asshole.”

“I think you need to learn your place,” Miles said leaning over to whisper in your ear.

Your eyes went wide, they planned on punishing you for this.

“Do I need my avatar for this?”

“No, we will be tame enough for a human.”

You breathed out loudly through your nose trying to calm yourself. You didn’t hate when this happened, it was hot. However, it was just a lot and it was tiring and it was just so much for your little body.

Miles started to move his hands down to your hips, then he moved them from your hips to slide up your sides and take your shirt off. You lifted your arms to help him take your shirt off, he threw your top onto the floor and touched your smooth skin again. His hands went to your back and unclasped your bra, he took it off you as well and let it fall to the floor. Miles smiled as he watched everyone state at you, he placed his large hands on your tits and pulled you into his body. He started to play with your nipples and it made you cry out.

You could see the smirks on everyone’s faces as they watched you whine while being toyed with. Miles' hands then found the hem of your pants, he unbuttoned them and let them fall to the floor.

“These are cute,” Miles said as he revealed your panties to the recoms. He grabbed the band of your panties on your hip and let it slap against your skin.

“Now, be a good girl and go apologize to Prager first. He wanted you so badly and he had to see you openly flirting,” Miles said as he slapped your ass as you walked over to Prager.

You sat on Prager’s lap and kissed him; Prager’s hands roamed your body before staying on your hips. He squeezed the flesh of your hips and occasionally your butt, you found yourself naturally rolling your hips into him. You could feel him getting harder and harder, you then got off him to kneel in front of him. You started to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants; you pulled out his hard cock. Your hands were so tiny compared to his Na’vi-sized dick; you stroked him a few times before you took him into your mouth.

It was hard to take him into your mouth but you pushed through, his hand grasped at your hair as you sucked him off. He was moaning out lowly as you did the best you could to get as deep as possible, what you couldn’t reach you stroked. Prager was trying to not jerk his hips and start fucking your face but he couldn’t help it, you were just so good. You focused on his head, pushing your tongue onto it and swirling it around. You tried to keep your teeth from hitting his shaft but it was so hard when he was stretching your mouth to its limits. You knew he was close just from the way his thighs twitched and his cock twitched in your mouth.

You pushed him to the back of your throat as he came, it went right down and as you pulled off him, you looked up at him. He was smiling, he looked so blissed out.

“Do you forgive me?”

“Of course, baby,” Prager said stroking your head.

“Don’t be so nice to her. We’re not done here,” Miles said as he walked over to you and picked you up.

Miles placed you down on your stomach on one of the recom-sized tables, your legs dangled helplessly as he held you there with a hand on your back. Lyle walked up next to Miles and kissed your back a few times, his hand then replaced Miles as he stood behind you. He ground his semi-erect cock into your butt before his other hand stroked down your back, landing on your left butt cheek.

“You gonna count ‘em?”

You nodded, “yeah,” you breathed out feeling yourself get more turned on.

His large hand landed a good smack on your butt cheek, it had a good echoing sound.

“One,” you staggered out.

His hand gripped your butt cheek after the smack, his hand rubbed the area as it left your skin coming down again.

“Two.”

You could hear him snickering as he played with your butt cheek a bit before landing a few concurrent slaps to your left cheek.

“Three.”

“Four.”

“Five.”

You couldn’t lie, it was starting to hurt. You knew that this is what was supposed to happen, it was supposed to cause a bit of pain. You liked it but their recom size and strength was a bit much, it just felt raw more than painful, but you could still handle it.

“Six,” you whined out as Lyle slapped your butt again.

He was definitely an ass man but also a boob man, this man was just horny and would take what he could get. He loved all bodies, all sizes, and all parts, but he had a favourite, big juicy asses. He loved a nice jiggly butt, nothing was better, he liked getting to slap, squeeze, pinch, fondle, lick, kiss, suck, bite, whatever he could do, he wanted it. That’s why he was perfect for this job, he could get off on watching your butt jiggle as he slapped your butt.

“Seven.”

Lyle hit the same left cheek, you started to lurch forward as he made contact. It was getting to be quite painful but you were almost done, he almost always went to 10. If he tried more, you might stop him, if he would actually stop.

“Eight.”

You squeezed your eyes when Lyle made impact, you were moaning out at every hit. You could also feel how hard Lyle was, he had to be leaking.

“Nine.”

The finish line was so close, one more and you’d be done. You felt the hand on your back move to your hip, that was new. Both his hands then held your hips and he lifted your hips up a bit and that’s when you felt his cock head rubbing through your folds. You didn’t even hear him unzip his pants, He then pushed in as he slapped your left cheek one last time.

“Ten,” you cried out as he pushed a few inches into you.

Your hands tried to grip at the table, your fingertips pressing into the table while your knuckles bent. Your back was trying to arch with no success, Lyle held you in place as he slowly pushed in more and more.

“Feel how hard you made me by just having your ass on display. I guarantee now pussy ass science puke could fuck you like this. Could get as hard as this. Could get as deep as this. Could make you scream out like this.”

He was praising himself as he started to thrust in and out of you, he was praising how good their recom bodies could fuck you. Hoping that you’d never even think about your coworkers ever again, hoping that you’d never even look at another person.

“Lyle, fuck, Lyle,” you reached your hand back for him, “please.”

“Please what, buttercup?”

“More.”

“You got it babe.”

Lyle sped up and went deeper, you moaned out and he smirked. Your forehead hit the table as you cried out, he couldn’t help but get harder at the sight of you soaking up what he was giving you.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking deep.”

“You like it baby? I can do more. I can already feel myself inside you.”

Lyle smirked as he kissed your back, you could feel his hand on your stomach just below your navel. Your arm slowly moved down there to feel where his hand was, you could feel his cock poking through your skin. You’d seen it and felt it before but it got you every time, it was so hot to know how they were bulging out of you. it just made you feel so small, it was so hot to feel it, even more so when you’d press on it and you’d hear whoever was in you moan.

Like now, pressed down on your lower stomach had Lyle moaning and grunting, he kept thrusting faster and faster before cumming deep in you. While it felt good and it was hot, you didn’t cum and that was probably their plan for tonight, not stimulate you enough to cum or deny you of it all together.

Lyle pulled out and moved away from you, he then lifted you up and placed you in the lap of Lopez. He already had his cock out, he held onto your hips before helping you to sink down on his thick cock. You gripped onto his shoulders for dear life as you felt the stretch, nothing helped with the stretch. Even after Lyle just fucked the shit out of you, you still weren’t meant for their large bodies.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing the shit out of me, baby girl,” Lopez said resting his forehead in yours.

He slowly sunk you down further and further until he stopped and started to lift your body up and down on his cock. Your head rested on his shoulder as you cried out, your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled your bodies close together.

“Please, please, please, let me cum,” you whined out. You figured begging might help.

“I’m glad you figured it out. Sooner than I thought. Either way, you won’t be cumming for some time,” Miles said from right behind you. You felt him kiss your shoulder after he told you, his plan.

You whined out from Miles' words and from feeling Lopez go in deeper. You knew you had to cum, but you also knew you couldn’t otherwise your punishment would get worse. Your mouth bit into Lopez’s bare shoulder as you focused on not cumming. The grip Lopez had on your body got tighter as you tried your best to follow Miles’ orders.

“Fuck baby girl, you’re gripping me so fucking hard.”

“Well, I’m trying not to cum. You’re just hitting it perfectly.”

He made a particular few thrusts up into you at really stroked your walls beautifully. You moaned out, holding onto him harder as you held back the best you could.

“Miles please let me cum, I can’t hold it back, please.”

“You’re not cumming.”

You knew asking Lopez was futile, he wasn’t going to let you cum anymore than Miles would. You knew that you would just have to hold off, but that was going to be even harder shortly. After Lopez finally came, you felt yourself finally be able to let your body relax, but that didn’t last long.

“You good with going upside down?” Walker asked smirking in your ear. She bit the lobe of your ear lightly as she wrapped her arms around your waist. She lifted you up off Lopez and took you to where she was sitting. She rested your back on her thighs and took your hips lifting them up to her mouth. Your legs straddled her head as she smiled at you between them.

“Wait I can’t, she gonna make me cum. All she does is know how to stimulate. She doesn’t stop till I cum.”

“That’s your problem, honey,” Walker smiled as she attached her mouth to your clit.

Your head pushed back against her knees as you moaned out loudly. Your hands gripped the armrests and your eyebrows furrowed; your mouth was agape as Walker pulled moan after moan from your mouth. It was such a compliment to her to see you stuck in a state like this. However, it didn’t take long before she had you cumming, it was going to happen, and you were already holding back. You were so sensitive, it didn’t matter, any stimulation was going to get you to cum.

Walker slurped at your pussy as she took everything you gave her.

“I hope you enjoyed that. Because you’re in for it now.”

You stared up at Miles, you could see how much his hard cock was pushing his pants out from your position. You could feel yourself getting more turned on. Miles picked you up and laid you back on the table from earlier. He more or less dropped you and held you on your back. He snarled as he watched you squirm under his large hand, his jaw moved from side to side.

He was planning how he wanted to abuse your poor pussy.

One thing you learned about him was he enjoyed eye contact. If he was eating you out, he’d stare at you and you better be staring back. Same with when you gave him head, on top of that, while fucking he also wanted to see your eyes. You couldn’t close them from pain or pleasure, you had to keep them on his. He made you stare at him as he unbuttoned his pants, he kept eye contact with you as he roughly pushed into you. He pushed all of his length into you in one go, it made you moan out loudly. You have been prepared well enough but it still stung and especially just from how he just pushed it all inside. He was bottomed out and he was one of the longer and thicker ones. He started to thrust into you right away, he took no prisoners either.

He was merciless, he lifted a leg to rest it on the table to get better leverage to fuck you deeper. Your small hands clawed at his back; you were in pain but it felt so good. Miles was deep inside, he was fast and normally at this point, you’d just lay your hand on your lower stomach to feel the bulge of his cock outlined in your skin. You couldn’t your body was so wound up, he was stimulating you so much, you just gripped onto his skin.

Your abs were so tightly restricted, you were just constantly being overstimulated. Your eyes fought to stay open to stare into his as he fucked you, all you wanted to do was close your eyes and throw your head back. You fought with yourself to keep from letting your body feel the pleasure, you had to keep your eyes open. Not to mention, even if you begged, he probably wouldn’t have let you cum.

“Miles, Miles, please, I can’t. I have to cum.”

“You will wait till I do then I will let you.”

You sighed out in protest, you could barely hold it, you wanted to cum now. You knew he wouldn’t be too much longer but still, you had to cum now. You felt him twitch, he was close he had to be, it was light there was light at the end of the tunnel. He came deep inside you; you cried out as it just filled you up.

“Miles, please, can I cum?”

His sharp deep thrusts didn’t stop, “have at it, cupcake.”

It only took a second after he finished his sentence for you to cry out while cumming. Your body moved on its own, your eyes squeezed shut and the top of your head hit the table. It was probably one of the most intense orgasms the recoms have ever given your human body. Miles kissed your sternum a few times before pulling out, Ja was quick to pick your tired and spent body up and place you in his arms. He sat down with your body resting on his, he was grounding you by rubbing at your back and running a hand through your hair.

“Don’t you want to get off too?”

“No, baby. You’ve done too much. Your body is tired and probably sore. We can wait,” Ja said to you.

“But I’ve taken you all before?”

“Yeah, that was when you were taking two or three of us at once and we didn’t make you hold your orgasms. You rest, we have all the time in the world,” Zdog said butting in to kiss your tired and sweaty face.