#I can't help but feel like these just keep getting longer and longer and I would like to apologize

[syluss-littlecrow]

release

<Caleb x fem!reader>

where both you and Caleb end up doing more than butt heads about his given curfew for you.

genre/warnings: smut, pwp, mutual pinning, mutual obsession & possession, jealous!Caleb breeding kink, multiple orgasms, a lot of cum..., perverted!MC, friends to lovers?, squirting, unprotected sex, morning sex, pure Caleb brain rot, it gets pretty nasty

a/n: Caleb, Caleb, CALEB XIA YIZHOU 😭���� the way I've been giggling over Caleb while watching his story and going back to my home screen with Sylus looking at me with his arms crossed.... Anyway, enjoy this Caleb brain rot 🥹🩷 I'll do one with Caleb's military air force uniform when I can 😔🫡

I JUST SAW THE NEW BANNER DROP IM NOT OK IF ANYONES WONDERING.

w/c: 3.5K

Effortless. That is what Caleb feels like when his affections come to you. It bubbles and boils over when he thinks he's able to put a lid over it, and it overflows instead. It leaves him so defenseless. Yet, he can't seem to stop. It's the only thing that keeps him going in this hell. 

The only thing he feels is the metallic necklace barely weighing on his chest. It almost feels like you're here with him. 

And if you are, he wants to keep you here with him. Forever.

His eyes slowly open. His eyes focus on the hologram clock hovering at the side. 

You're supposed to be back already. 

Caleb contemplated on driving out to find you since he has your location pinging on his phone.

Since when did you have that many friends in Skyhaven? Why doesn't he know about them?

He checks the messages he's sent you, all unread. 

Caleb has to remind himself to stop clenching his jaw and biting his tongue. 

His stare towards the door grows anxious by the minute. Then he strengthens his resolve and marches towards the door, ready to leave and look for you. 

The second he pulls down the door handle, the jingle of the door unlocking from the outside sounds and the door swings open, making you and Caleb jump when he catches you in his arms from bumping into each other.

“Caleb!” You squeal, flustered at the way you completely ran into him. His warmth is radiating over to your skin. “Are you okay? Where were you gonna go?”

You watch a small pout form on his lips. He truly looks like a puppy when he does that, you can't help but think. 

“Look for you”, he curtly replies, making sure you've regained your balance before he releases your arms.

You straighten your posture, and sheepishly touch the nape of your neck, immediately avoiding his gaze. 

“Ah, right. Well, I got carried away with chatting with my friends and all…” 

Caleb crosses his arms. His pout turns into a frown, and his eyebrows are scrunched. 

Shit. He looks mad.

You inch closer to him, your fingers grazing over his knuckles. 

“I'm sorry, Caleb. Don't be mad okay? I'm home now, safe and sound, in the flesh, aren't I?”

Caleb breathes steadily, keeping his expression the same, but when you take his palm and nuzzle your cheek against it, Caleb feels the anxiety and frustration dissolve. He wants to reprimand you about the curfew, and why he implemented it in the first place. If you’ve stayed missing for a second longer, he would have completely lost it. But the moment his palm nearly touches your lips, it all dissipates, as if it never existed. 

Caleb exhales a sigh of defeat, letting it go just this time, alongside the countless times he did. 

“Go shower. I left the heater on for you.” 

You respond with a cheeky smile that makes something in Caleb’s chest bloom, and he lets you go, watching you disappear into your room. 

Caleb hears a knock on his door. He walks over and opens it, watching you coming into view. 

“Is there something you need, pipsqueak?”

You squeeze through the crack of the partially opened door and occupy his bed. 

“I'm just bored.”

Even though Caleb cocks his eyebrow, he still sprouts his smile, walking over to join you on his bed.

“Not because you're trying to make it up to me for coming back past curfew?”

Shit. 

Your smile playfully drops to a pout. “I got carried away yapping with my friends. You know I didn't mean to…” 

Caleb crosses his arms again.

“I could tell. My messages were all left unread.”

You curl your fingers to your lips when you realise you've been caught.

Caleb seems upset but you still see the softness beneath. 

He sighs. 

“I'm doing this for your own good, pipsqueak. I don't like you getting caught up in this.”

Caleb likes to think that it is that way, but he knows that it's more than just that. 

“As you can tell–” you’re showing off your body–your arms first then your legs, then your abdomen. But what Caleb didn't expect you to do was lift up your shirt slightly, your skin exposed, and have your shorts hike up your thighs, just to prove your point. “Nothing! You can check me for tracking devices too if you want to.” 

Something snaps in him.

“So do you let your friends inspect your body like that?” 

He crawls onto the bed, watching the smile slowly drop from your face. 

Caleb’s fingers trace your bare skin, drawing goosebumps from how ghostly the touches feel. His fingers slide from the top of your knees, and towards your thighs.

“Do you know how worried I was when you didn't answer my messages?”

You’re about to part your lips to respond, but he cuts you off. 

“I was wondering what conversations you were having that you ignored me.” 

“Caleb–”

He’s completely trapped you against the headboard of his bed. He's trapped you with his stare. 

Caleb inches closer, until he's close enough. His eyes glance down to your lips for a split second before his gaze meets yours again. 

Your breath is shaky when he leans in closer. 

Then he turns away. 

What the fuck? 

You watch in disbelief as he pulls away, your breath still caught in your throat from the tension.

Caleb’s signature smile returns and you feel his palm stroke the back of your head. 

“You should go back to bed. It's late.” 

He turns to open his door for you to leave. 

“Maybe I should start coming home later too.” 

He pauses in his steps. 

“I don't think that's a bright idea, pipsqueak.”

You slide off his bed and walk towards his door. 

“Maybe not. But I have brighter ones that consist of escaping your curfew.” 

You’re ready to leave the room with your victory, that is, until the door before you completely shuts. You see his shadow tower over you from behind. 

You turn to face Caleb, your arms are crossed. 

“Didn’t you ask me to go to bed?” 

“Changed my mind. I wanna make sure you're thoroughly inspected.”

You’re facing Caleb, back on his bed again. He starts with your face, but he lets his fingers linger around your lips, brushing across your bottom lip. You turn away, and his fingers catch your chin, forcing you to face Caleb.

“No looking away.”

His eyes are devouring every patch of skin that exists on your body. Even though you're clothed, you feel naked when he has his eyes on you this intensely. His fingertips trace back to your lips and he slides it down painfully slowly–past your chin, down your neck, through your sternum, past your stomach, and stops right above the elastic of your shorts. 

You want to shift, but you realise you can't–your body suddenly feels weighed down to the bed, and that's when you realise Caleb has you held down with his Evol.

The softness in Caleb’s eyes disappears, and something else replaces it. You watch him tug your shorts off you, and all you can do is watch helplessly. 

His kisses tickle from your ankle, and he builds them upwards at an agonising pace, each kiss feeling warmer as he travels up your thigh. 

Your heartbeat only accelerates from there, watching Caleb inch closer and closer to your cunt. Your thighs tense up from the sensitivity, the warmth of his lips spreading over your skin when you feel his tongue come in contact with your skin. 

“That tickles”, your voice is soft, as if the defiance in your tone before never existed.

Caleb’s lips press against your clothed pussy. Despite the fact that you’re trembling slightly, you've completely soaked your panties, and Caleb is more than happy to soak them even more. 

He buries his tongue, wetting the fabric even further. The pleasure draws soft moans, but evidently, it's not enough. 

“Caleb… Could you lighten your Evol?” You plead. You want to feel him so bad. 

Your body instantly lightens, and you almost think you're gonna fall off the bed. 

Something else holds you down this time, and it's Caleb. 

He tilts your chin up to have your lips meet his, now his kisses melting off the thoughts in your brain. Warmth burns through your skin. It takes you seconds to realise Caleb is lifting your shirt off you.

The clothing article is the next victim tossed somewhere else on the bed. 

You take his cheeks to your palms.

“I really need you now, Caleb.”

The softness returns to his eyes momentarily. 

“Are you sure you're okay with this?”

“I'll hop off right now and head straight to bed if you don't”, you huff. Fuck, the anticipation is just clawing through your insides, begging for Caleb to do something.

He playfully scoffs. 

“We both know you wouldn't.” 

Caleb tugs your panties to the side, and lines himself to your hole.

He thrusts into you in one swift motion, and you feel it all the way in. It knocks your breath out of you. Caleb watches you helplessly gasp for air and adjust to his size. He’s just filled you so full. 

He’s still supporting you so you don't fucking pass out. He feels you scratch all over his back from the pressure but he stays still, at least, until you've adjusted. 

“Shit. You're so fuckin’ warm for me”, he hisses into your neck, trying his best not to thrust into you. You feel so tight for him, he feels so good just staying there.

He stretches you open for him–your pussy fluttering at the feeling of him filling you up. The pressure slowly fades and you quickly adjust to his size.

Your vision blurs when he thrusts into you from below–the sensation so overwhelming that it's making you tear up. 

“So good”, you sigh, struggling to keep your eyes open–almost impossible when his cock is hitting your g-spot over and over again. Sparks burst into your eyelids whenever he hits the spot and it's evident that he knows he’s able to unravel you just like that, so easily. 

“Caleb…”, you moan. Caleb’s still fucking you, feeling the way you're just squeezing him, watching the way your fingers have gone clawing his back to his bedsheets, the way your tits are bouncing from fucking you, the way your eyes practically form hearts when he knows he's hit your sensitive spots.

“Faster, please. You feel so fucking good.”

He knows you shouldn't have said that. You're the only person who can rile him up like this. How the hell are you making him break his resolve when he's supposed to be upset with you?

He leans in, practically hovering over you. His fingers cup your cheek and he forces you to meet his violet eyes. 

In your fucked out haze, you blink, confused when he slows down. He pulls out completely, and you're about to complain until he rolls your soiled panties off your legs, tossing it to somewhere on the bed. 

You gasp when you feel his thumb graze over your wet and throbbing clit. 

“I'm gonna make you wonder what the fuck wrong with your body”, Caleb’s voice reaches your ears. His words sends a shiver down your spine.

“Your little pussy is gonna throb every time you think of me.”

That's all the warning he gives before his arms tower over you, holding your wrists down above your head. 

He fucks you into an orbit and you're practically helpless–forced to take his thrusts over and over. But fuck, it feels so good. It feels like fucking heaven. 

You like how dizzy it makes you feel. You like how he's not stopping, no matter how much tears stream down your face, and how pathetic you sound crying and moaning his name. 

“Fuck! Caleb, it's too much–” you whimper, the strange feeling building up in your stomach. It feels like it's about to snap any second. 

He acknowledges your words, but he doesn't bother slowing down. 

“Didn’t you promise me to be a good girl and take all of it?” 

“Caleb–!”

Your voice sounds so heavenly when you call his name.

The fluids fountains out of you, soaking everything near it's vincity–including the both of you. Your orgasm continues to wash over you and more fluids spray out.

Caleb watches you squirm and jolt while you make a mess all over him. 

He lets go of your wrists, the slight redness forming onto your skin, and his thumb caresses your bottom lip. 

Despite your arms feeling sore from resisting against his hold, you wrap them around his neck, pulling him close to catch his lips. He's taken back for a split second, but he returns the kiss, letting his soft moans drown into your lips while you clench around him.

When you both pull back, it's Caleb’s turn to have his eyes glazed and his cheeks dusted a soft shade of pink. 

“y/n, if you keep doin’ that–fuck”, Caleb groans, his fingers closing into a fist against the sheets. His breath is shaky. The euphoria is threatening to spill over–the fact that you're trapping him in like this with you, just the two of you solely existing together right now–he could get high off this feeling. He doesn't need anything else. 

“I'm so close. Shit.” You watch the bead of sweat trickle down his temple, down to his cheek, to his chin, and then it disappears into the mess the both of you made below. 

Caleb’s voice makes you refocus on him. 

His palm presses against your cheek again, his thumb brushing lightly on the corner of your lips. 

“You're gonna take all of it like a good girl, yeah?” 

You nod, almost too eagerly. Caleb can't help but think that your face after being fucked looks breathtakingly beautiful. It makes him want to hide you further. The world doesn't deserve someone like you. 

He crashes his lips with yours, melting into the kiss while he pumps you full with his thick cum–making sure he has himself seated deep inside so nothing spills out. At least, not until he pulls out.

The high slowly descends, and the both of you are left panting, getting lost in each other’s eyes just for that moment before Caleb slowly pulls out. 

Caleb then reaches for the glass of water perched on his nightstand to offer you. You take a good few sips of water, and hand it back to Caleb, who takes a couple of sips as well. He notices the way your cheeks are still flushed and that you're blinking more. He plants the empty glass onto the nightstand, ready to carry you to wash up and probably change the sheets after.

In a daze, you notice Caleb’s cum seeping out of your hole in small loads. You wet two fingers and slide them to your pussy–and you push the thick fluids back in, your body jolting in pleasure while you're pretty much fingering your pussy with Caleb’s cum.

Caleb swallows hard while he watches you pleasure yourself. He’s about to say something but you cut him off.

“Your cum keeps leaking out”, you point out, giving him the full view of your cum-soaked pussy. You look up at him with an innocent, poison-soaked gaze–your lashes wet and your thighs trembling from each time you feel his cum leak out of you.

“It’d be such a waste–”, you mutter, shivering one more time when your fingers fuck you again, the room only filled with your voice and the wet squelching sounds from your pussy.

“–if it doesn't stay inside.” 

You barely have time to process what happens next. The next thing you knew, Caleb has your hands pinned above your head with one hand, and the other on your cheeks. His legs stop you from closing yours, and you feel his wet thickness hard once more, resting on your pubic bone.

“You know, pipsqueak”, his voice drops an octave lower. His voice is clear, and he makes sure you hear him. “It's okay to just ask for more.” His eyes reflect such a gorgeous shade of wild you've never seen before, and it looks fucking good on him.

No warnings–your cunt is just wet and sopping that Caleb stuffs you to fullness once more–you give up trying to keep your eyelids open, your mind only processing the way he’s fucking so deep into you again and again.

“You know I'll always give it to you.” 

The way his fingers are cupping your cheeks stops you from answering. Well, he doesn't need a verbal response, especially not when you’re clenching him so fucking tight when your orgasm hits you for the…how many times was it now?

You feel stings that slowly dull around your shoulders and chest. The bites Caleb’s given you are as red as the ruby on his apple necklace. 

The night is drowned with sounds and sensations of both you competing to send each other to the heavens. 

What day is it now? 

Caleb blinks his heavy eyelids open. He soaks in the atmosphere around him, and it doesn't take him long to realise that you're lying on his arm.

Thankfully, it's not numb. Your hair tickles his cheeks. 

He notices the light peeking through his curtains. It's probably daytime. 

Caleb presses his lips against the back of your head, while he pulls you closer. He almost jolts when he hears a soft moan coming from you.

For some reason, something feels funny. 

He attempts to shift slightly, and realises the predicament–his dick is still hard as fuck, and he’s still nestled so fucking deep in you. Fuck. Did the both of you fall asleep mid-sex? The feeling bleeds into him again. 

Are you even awake to realise this? 

Caleb bites his inner cheek, the hardness only builds. Shit. Even after all of that, you're still this warm and tight? 

He watches your breathing steadily. 

He hooks your leg over his arm almost too easily, giving himself easier access to fuck you deeper. Your sleepiness is slowly dissipating, overtaken so fucking quick by the burning desire once more.

His thrusts bear slight friction at first, but somehow that only adds to the pleasure–the rawness, the fact that he's left a mess in you and kept that way, and that he gets to do it all over again in the morning. 

“Ca…Caleb..!” You squeal, uselessly fisting the pillows while Caleb rails you from below. 

“So perfectly warm for me, y/n”, his morning voice dousing you. He takes advantage to litter more bites to the back of your neck and shoulders, and spoils you with his strained moans when he reflects the way you whimper whenever he hits your sensitive spots. 

You sheepishly bury your teary face into the pillows, and Caleb pushes himself impossibly deeper, forcing you to face him when you jolt in surprise. His violet eyes are eating you up. You hear his voice ring in your ears.

“Wanna make you cry more like this. You're so pretty when you cry when I'm splittin’ you open like this.” 

More tears stream down your cheeks whenever your g-spot gets abused over and over. Caleb forces you to meet his gaze. His thrusts are slower, but harder. 

“Shit, you're really gonna milk me dry, yeah?” Caleb hisses when he feels you flutter around him. Your cum is mixed with his, and drips down his cock, to his balls. 

Caleb pulls you tighter, deepening the kiss one last time while he breeds you full over and over for nth time since the last night, devouring your whimpers when the words you muttered to him last night comes into memory. You're so dizzy with pleasure, and Caleb has stolen all of your breaths. 

He finally pulls out, his cum endlessly drizzling out of your abused hole, and it almost sets him off again. 

Nonetheless, he forces himself to get out of bed so he can get a towel and clean you up.

Another loving kiss he presses onto your temple.

“I'm gonna get a towel, pipsqueak.” His husky whispers send shivers down your body, and the warmth of his touch lingers on your thighs for a lot longer than you realise.

He leaves the bed for the bathroom. 

You nuzzle into the pillows Caleb was just lying on, drowning yourself with his scent. The wetness that sticks between your legs–you can't tell if it's your fresh arousal or if it's his cum anymore.  

Not that it mattered since steadying your breath when you realised he was still in you when you stirred before him to see what he'd do next, gave you such a big reward. 

And you'd do it all over again. You would say things to get under his skin, just to get a rise out of him, just to keep his attention on you, always. 

You wanted to keep his strained voice when he called your name, the way he looks at you with so much desperation when he breeds you full, in a bottle and store it for your perverted indulgence. 

No one else needs to know that this part of Caleb exists, because he belongs to you. 

The dim light catches your attention underneath the thick sheets. You take the device, unlocking the phone with your fingerprint. 

6 missed calls. 

You swipe them away. You shut off his phone.

He doesn't need to know.

He doesn't need to remember.

At least, not when he's with you. 

[sunnysidedump]

I've been rewatching the show bc season five is coming out soon and I wanted to be caught up again. and I can't help but feel like, every single time we queer folk get close to a meaningful moment in the show, it gets yanked immediately.

We get a character that challenges 80s stereotypical masculinity and shows an older man healing from severe trauma through an emotional pathway? nope, the moment he starts to heal the show just turns him into Tom Cruise.

Show gets us a proper asshole where we can have meaningful discussions about a whole array of discrimination and proper 80s commentary? nope, the first time they redeem him and never mention the slur calling again. And the second time, they kill his mini-me and then excuse his presence away so he's no longer on the show and his previous presence has zero impact.

We get a cool, awkward, extremely smart lesbian who has an established crush and an amazing dynamic with a character who previously showed to be homophobic and could use the growth. But noooooo, they dumb down her intelligence and instead of we getting proper character dynamics and growth we get the "ha ha we're PLATONIC with a capital P" joke over and over again.

We get two queer characters, but no they shall never have a single proper interaction, because forming a community with other people who are like you is a totally boring plot point.

Here is a character who society has decided deserves all the bad things they get, they're made to be hated by the satanic panicy 80s, whether on purpose or not wears the most recognisable form of flagging in the entirety of queer history, is the pinnacle of relatability especially for queer and nd people. GETS IMMEDIATELY KILLED AFTER GETTING ONE OF THE COOLEST MOMENTS IN THE SHOW.

If they don't pull through with season five and keep leaving these discussions undiscussed, it'll be such a huge "fuck you" to us queers. Besides, currently, Will's entire character post-season 1, makes me just so sad.

byler not being endgame would mean:

- an unsatisfactory ending for will byers

- the show reinforcing will’s belief that he cannot fall in love because he’s queer (a common belief among many queer people)

- his feelings being used to only benefit one of the many straight couples in the show

- the show going against it’s message of “you’re loved and valued for being different, embrace the differences, don’t conform to what society wants”

- the biggest gut punch and “fuck you” to queer people watching

[xomakara]

Baby Don't Stop

SUMMARY | You run into your old college crush, Johnny Suh, at the gym after ten years. You used to hook up back in the day, and sparks fly again. To celebrate Johnny's birthday, you go out for drinks with friends, but the night takes a turn when you confess your feelings for each other. PAIRINGS |  Johnny x Reader RATING |  Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+, Any Minors and Ageless Blogs will be blocked GENRE |  smut, romance, birthday, old flames, random fluff/comedy  CONTENT/WARNINGS | nightclub vibes, profanity, drinking, flirting, teasing, birthday sex, unprotective sex, public sex, oral sex (both male/female receiving and giving), fingering, marking, shoulder biting, hair grabbing, creampies, daddy kink, breeding/impregnation kink LENGTH |  12,974 words TAGLIST |  @lovetaroandtaemin NETWORKS |  @k-vanity @ksmutsociety AUTHOR’S NOTE |  Thank you to both @unholywriters, and @lovetaroandtaemin for beta-reading this.I really appreciate the both of you for reading this! Thank you @aaagustd for the gorgeous banner! I appreciate you all so much! Happy 30th Birthday to my man, Johnny! 💚💚

NCT Main Masterlist

"Hottie alert!" your friend darts her eyes in the direction of the man that just walked into the gym, but you ignore her gaze and keep running at your current speed, steadily jogging on the treadmill. 

It's as if your sole purpose for existing is just to get the hell on a treadmill every day and then promptly leave. You start slowing down, your mind beginning to wander as the smell of sweat and metal engulfs your senses, and your feet pounding the black material begin to slow until the belt under your feet comes to a full halt.

"Okay Miss Hot Bod," Misun rolls her eyes. "Can you stop exercising long enough to even check a guy out once? You know you need to get laid, babe."

"I don't need your help with that," you quip and shake your head.

"Well obviously, but seriously, look. He's totally your type," Misun points across the room, where he stands in a loose sleeveless tee. His biceps are well defined; his left arm adorned in tats, and he runs his fingers through his dark hair while holding a water bottle in his other hand. "That man's body is literally the definition of fuckable. Look how sculpted he is!"

Okay, you have to admit he is very easy to look at. As you stand there, your breathing slowing and the buzz of the cardio still surging through your veins, the dark haired man looks across the room right in your direction and suddenly, time feels like it's crawling as Misun's words echo through your head. He cocks his head in acknowledgement of his surroundings, as if he were trying to pick out exactly where you were amidst the sea of equipment.

You know this man from somewhere, but you can't put your finger on it. It isn't until he gets up, sets the bottle down on a mat and strides over towards you, and you spot the sunflower tattoo on his left upper forearm that recognition slaps you in the face.

Johnny. 

Johnny fucking Suh. 

The boy that was the object of your crushes back in college. But he was no longer a boy; the past decade had been kind to his body, and the subtle changes between a younger Johnny and an older Johnny just made your panties want to slide off and flutter to the ground.

He’s still as tall as you remember him being, but instead of being lean muscle, he now has a slightly larger frame to fit it. His facial features haven't really changed, but everything is just a bit sharper, a little more rugged. The moment Johnny spots you, his mouth gapes in disbelief. He chuckles, breaking into a wide grin and quickly enveloping you with a bear hug.

"Y/N! Long time no see!" He steps back, his eyes roaming the rest of your figure. You've gotten more confident than your younger self, and your gym gear only serves to highlight just that. Your form fitting workout gear leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination, and Johnny's eyes rake over every curve on your body. He lingers a fraction too long on the tight sports bra stretching against your chest, trying his best not to blatantly stare. He grins and breaks the silence. 

"Wow! I mean, holy shit you look so... so different," he compliments, clearly surprised at the change since the last time he'd seen you.

Back in college, the two of you used to fuck around every once in awhile; never anything serious though. You didn't have any real commitment to one another. You'd go to frat parties together, and you'd sometimes go out with mutual friends. You'd dance a bit, and you’d fuck each other silly once the alcohol kicked in, but nothing more and nothing less. And there was certainly a point in time where you really started to fall hard, because deep down you knew that you were hopelessly pining for him. But, you knew better. Johnny didn't do relationships, and Johnny certainly didn't do serious, at least not that's what you gathered, and you never felt like it was really worth bringing up either.

"Different in a good way?" you tease back.

"Oh yeah, a very good way," he checks out the new you one more time before breaking the gaze. "Wow, the past decade did you good."

"I could say the same about you, Suh," you shoot back, meeting his stare. You scan over him just as he did to you. Time and life has definitely treated him well. "Gosh, you've gotten so-"

"Different?" He laughs. "Yeah. The past few years have done my body good; the diet's improved, the job is stressful, but..." Johnny pauses for a minute and smiles fondly, and you notice the glimmer of nostalgia flicker in his eye as memories flash through his mind. He thinks for a while before speaking again. "Anyway," he breaks into a big grin and shrugs. "The past decade hasn't been half bad."

 "How's life treating you?" you ask him.

"Well I'm back in Seoul permanently now, so that's pretty exciting," he nods and greets you with another easy, kind smile. "You still hang out with Doyoung and the guys?"

"I hang out with Doyoung's wife more than I do with him now," you pointed at Misun and she waved back. You laugh softly. "But yeah, I see the guys every weekend. We're all doing well. Pretty settled down and all."

"Doyoung's married? Holy crap," Johnny's eyes widen and it's a surprise for him to hear. He bites his lip and raises his brows. "How'd I miss that?"

"Life is pretty fast, dude," you grin.

"And you? Are you married?" Johnny tilts his head. "Couple of kids?"

Your face heats up slightly. Kids and marriage were the last thing on your mind right now, and you definitely had no partner. "Nope. Definitely single right now, and zero kids."

"I bet guys would be lining up for miles to have you," he answers. You swallow the saliva collecting in your mouth and look at Johnny for a moment. Perhaps his way was just complimenting everything and everyone, and he meant nothing by his words. That's the most likely case. 

“Nope,” you chuckle. “I don’t see a line anywhere.”

"Good, because I'm gonna ask for your number," his gaze is stern and full of resolve, a mischievous smirk playing upon his lips.

"Huh?" you ask him, feeling a slight lump form in your throat.

"I'd really like to go get a cup of coffee sometime, if you're up for it," his voice is earnest, and he grins widely before speaking again. "Maybe get with the guys some night for drinks? It's not everyday you come back and bump into the old crew."

Ahhhh, he wants to catch up with the old gang. Of course he wants to catch up with everyone and relive the college days or something. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together.

"Yeah sure," you mumble and dig your phone out. Johnny passes you his and you both add your contact information. "That would actually be a lot of fun."

"Let me know a couple dates that work for you," Johnny says in his silky smooth voice. "Or, let me know what days you're free. If it's during the work week, we can even get dinner after we finish up late at night."

"O...kay, I'll let you know,” you said.

"Sweet. Well it was nice to catch up," Johnny beams and starts walking in the other direction. He suddenly stops, spins, and turns back around. "Don't be a stranger, yeah? Give me a call whenever!"

"Yeah..." you nodded.

Johnny gives you an eager nod before taking his leave. As you watch his sculpted back muscles through the fabric of his loose shirt, Misun runs right over to you.

"Aghhh," she screeches excitedly, almost kicking her leg in an attempt to demonstrate how excited she was. "He totally hit on you!"

"Did he, though?" you tilt your head and smile slightly, grabbing your gym bag, before heading to the bathroom. "We kind of used to hang out with the same circle of people and—"

"Wait—so you already knew him? He's not just a guy you met today?" Misun follows you out, nearly stepping on your shoes because she's following your every movement like a hawk. She stares you down as if she were trying to dissect your body right there in the locker room, like a science experiment gone horribly, horribly right.

"We've sort of been casually acquainted since my college days," you explain as you pull your leggings off. "He's one of your husband's friends. Not someone I'd say he’s super close with, though. Just casual acquaintances."

"You guys fucked, didn't you?" Misun presses, her eyes bulging out of her eye sockets.

"Hey hey hey," you put a finger over your lips and lower your voice, checking the surrounding area for other people in the vicinity. You confirm the coast is clear before continuing, but you continue to whisper, nonetheless. "Keep it down will you?"

Misun smacks her lips together as a cheeky smirk spreads across her face. "Damn."

You begin changing out of your gym clothes before speaking again. "To be completely honest with you, Misun... Johnny was probably the most attractive guy I was ever with. By far. In fact, he's probably the most attractive guy I'll ever be with..." you say a bit melancholy, trailing off as your mind drifts back to those wild college nights.

"Then why the hell haven't you hit that in like a decade then, hon? I mean damn," Misun places her hand over her heart and you can practically see the gears spinning in her brain. "He's hot. You're hot. It's a win-win."

"Things are just...complicated," you answer vaguely, but you know exactly what your friend's picking up on.

"Darling," Misun wraps an arm around your shoulder. "Life is complicated. Relationships are complicated. But sex is the easiest thing ever to understand. I promise."

You simply wave her comment off and close up the door to your locker. Maybe she has a point, but you honestly don't know how you should feel. Things were so much simpler back when you and Johnny first hooked up. Back then, no feelings were involved, and everything was clear and defined. Now? Who the fuck knows.

All you could think about at that moment was Johnny. Johnny's body, Johnny's grin, Johnny's laughter, and everything in-between. There's an awkward tightening sensation in your core, and you shake your head. This isn't something that would normally bother you. Sure, you found him hot back in college, but the lust was purely physical. Something felt...different this time.

And, something about Johnny has changed, and you know it. Maybe it was just that time itself had changed, maybe he'd matured since your early twenties. Maybe the dynamic between you and Johnny would be entirely different now.

"Johnny's back in town," Taeyong tells you and Doyoung over lunch one day as he sips his americano.

You swallow your bite and nod. "Yeah, I know. I ran into him at the gym."

"What?" His eyes grow wider than saucers as he puts down his coffee cup. "No way!"

"Yeah, Misun was there," Doyoung laughs and gives you a cheeky look. "My lovely wife saw Johnny and Y/N make googly eyes at each other before exchanging contact info."

"Oh?" Taeyong raises his eyebrows and perks up in interest. "What happened next?"

You shove another piece of chicken into your mouth and sigh. "We exchanged numbers."

"AND?" both men yell impatiently.

"We. Exchanged. Numbers," you make a large circle with your hands in an exasperated fashion and then stare at both of them. "He wants to catch up with everyone, that's all. Go get a drink, reminisce about our younger days."

"Damn," Taeyong swears and laughs. "That's disappointing."

"You two would have such beautiful babies," Doyoung mutters.

"Who's gonna have babies?" Jaehyun cuts in, carrying a tray of drinks.

"Our darling Y/N and Suh," Taeyong explains, putting the last bite of food in his mouth. "Wanna go get drinks with Johnny and our lovely Y/N sometime this week?"

"Johnny's back in town?" Jaehyun seems intrigued.

"He’s here to stay," Doyoung looks at Jaehyun with raised eyebrows. “Y/N and Johnny exchanged numbers.”

"Oh, really?" Jaehyun looks mildly interested and smirks as he places your drink down in front of you. "You're hot. Johnny's hot. Good call. Hook it up."

"I literally think you guys are reading into this waaaay too much," you sigh and shake your head. "It was not even close to how you're putting it. No chemistry involved."

"Johnny Suh wouldn't have gotten your number if he was the sort of man to 'just catch up' with old college friends," Taeyong argues, making an air quote gesture.

"FINE," you roll your eyes. "Well, he asked me for coffee. BUT," you interject quickly and put a finger up when they're all ready to burst. "That doesn't necessarily mean he's asking me out on a date! Coffee doesn't necessarily mean romance."

"Uh, it totally does!" Taeyong cries, Jaehyun snickering along with him. "How do you think Misun and Doyoung got married? They brewed their love."

Doyoung slaps a hand over his face and rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath.

"Who are you and what have you done with the Lee Taeyong I once knew, God-knows-when, from God-knows-where," you grimace at his horrible choice in word play.

"Say it, Y/N. You know I'm a hundred percent right, and you can't deny it," Taeyong goes on. "How do you feel about Suh?"

"It's been ten years, Taeyong! What should I even say? Do I even have the same feelings for him as I had back in college?" You roll your eyes.

"Maybe? Maybe not. Only you know. But... Do you?" Doyoung folds his arms and glares at you.

You throw your head back, running your hands across the side of your hair. You make a dramatic gesture of screaming silently while the boys sit back and wait, leaning forward as they anticipate your answer. You stop making a ruckus and shoot them a defeated, resigned look, your shoulders slumping, your mouth drooping, and a little twinkle sparkles in your eyes.

You purse your lips together. "Possibly. Maybe. A bit."

"I mean," Jaehyun started, "you guys did fuck for a good year in college—"

"How did you know that!?" You feel the embarrassment color your cheeks.

Jaehyun bursts out laughing. "Who didn't know? You guys were fuckin' around a LOT."

You sink lower in your chair, sinking your teeth into the flesh of your lip. Of course they'd have known.

"So what's the problem then?" Taeyong presses for the details. "You're single, right?"

"Yeah but..." you sigh. "What if he's not? Or what if he's with someone right now?"

"He's single," Taeyong points at you with a decisive air, nodding with pride. "I asked."

"Why am I not surprised, you little gossiping bastard," you fold your hands across your chest. "Of course you asked."

"Anyway," Taeyong shakes his head. "Think of it this way. Say you get your little date on. If nothing comes out of it, then no biggie! Nothing ventured, nothing gained. But, if anything happens… if," he puts a hand to his heart, "if a wonderful spark ignites between you and Johnny… then wouldn't it have been worth trying?"

He does make an excellent point.

Johnny's wearing a button down silk shirt, open to the fourth button so his sharp clavicle and smooth, flawless, chest were peeking out. His leather pants were molded around him; the expensive belt showing off just how defined his waist was. He sits back in his chair and gives a hearty laugh as Haechan talks animatedly, gesturing and using both of his hands for emphasis as he recounts a story about Jaehyun pranking Taeyong.

You're sitting next to him, his arm draped casually against the top of the chair you're sitting on, a smug, playful smirk dancing across his lips, and his eyes flashing and sparkling under the light of the low lit room. You try not to stare at how well dressed he is, how nice the scent of his cologne is and how he looks like an absolute snack from this proximity. It’s difficult not to notice just how nice looking this man is. It's been more than ten years since you've been near one another, after all. And the past decade has been exceedingly good to him, that much was evident.

It was Johnny's birthday celebration; the crew wanted to go out and give him the greatest time, since he was back in Seoul after so long, and Johnny was the type to really enjoy himself when surrounded by good company. Dressed in a long, skin-tight black dress that dipped low in the back, showing the length of your spine and cut to expose one leg up to the upper thigh, the crew went hard for this bar crawl night and they went all out for Johnny. 

When Yuta suggested this nightclub and sent everyone the address, the boys responded with immediate acceptance, while your immediate reaction was pure disbelief. You hate nightclubs; you were never interested in them. This was never your scene back in college, let alone right now. Sure, you loved a nice drink after work, and you've been dragged to enough bars with your friends, but you were not remotely interested in this clubbing scene.

There are too many sweaty people, a plethora of obnoxious dudes trying to pick up girls, and so much wasted energy. Why not just go to a bar where you can have a more relaxed vibe and a way better selection of drinks? That would be a better fit for you, really. You can have a drink, lounge, and enjoy music that is quiet enough to allow you to hear your friends’ voices.

But nope, here you are. Surrounded by a sea of people who are half-naked, grinding or shouting about the lack of people grinding against them. You felt old in the sea of young bodies in here, so out of place in a world filled with loud music and zero room to talk to anybody, given the loud and throbbing base filling the entirety of the room.

"Hey Y/N," Johnny leans in and whispers right into your ear, his breath warm and tickling.

"Hmm," you try to keep it casual, even though his sudden movements have put you into an unannounced trance.

"Wanna get out of here?" He's closer to you now, his soft lips barely even brushing against the outer shell of your earlobe.

"Excuse me?" your face heats up a few degrees, wondering if what you're thinking is what he means, or what you're hoping for.

"We're going to hit another place," Jaehyun says from your other side.

"The vibe here is awful," Johnny groans. "Let's go somewhere more chill where we can all just talk."

"I knew this club thing was a bad idea. I should've fought Nakamoto on his decision," you get out of your seat and smile in response. "Plus it's better for Doyoung. We don't need any single birds flirting with him. Misun's liable to punch somebody in the face if anyone gets close."

Everyone chuckles as you all head out. Yuta merely shrugged when you told him about changing locations and led the crew out into the evening air, looking for a new bar to go to. The whole lot of you move at the pace of Jaehyun and Johnny, whose strides are equally long, as they attempt to seek a spot of their liking. After passing a few establishments, you find yourself nearing a lounge with a slightly different ambiance, one that doesn't reek of desperation and wasted energy. It was relatively quiet when you got close, and the interior looked cozy. You instantly liked the change in scenery and noticed how your tension melted away.

Everyone shuffled inside, pushing tables together.

"C'mon babe, you're sitting over here," Misun gently coaxed you into the seat next to Johnny, which just makes you wonder what she's scheming now, what new ridiculousness has filled her mind. "This place has a way better atmosphere, right?"

You had to admit, this was a much better choice than the night club that Yuta brought everyone to earlier. This was cozy and just loud enough for everyone to be heard without needing to yell their lungs out.

"Y'know..." Jungwoo starts, getting your attention as you lean forward across the table. "I don't think Yuta was really trying."

Everyone, except Yuta, started guffawing in unison, and Doyoung did his best not to fall off of his stool.

"To be fair," Yuta stands in the corner, attempting to defend his character, a pout forming upon his lips. "I didn't have time to go scout a location out! Work's been busy! Cut me some slack."

"First rounds on you then," Mark cracks up, slapping Yuta hard on the back.

"Feeling better already, babe?" Doyoung gave his wife a quick peck before speaking and patted the seat to his left.

Misun nodded eagerly and took the offered seat, watching you and Johnny with intense interest, a far too satisfied grin playing on her lips.

“This place is nice,” Misun started. “It’s intimate and cozy. And the sound levels here are great. Perfect place for a little celebration.”

You give Misun a questioning glance but you decide to shrug and leave it at that for now. Besides, this wouldn't hurt anyone.

"First things first!" Yuta announced after everyone got comfortable, raising a glass high. Everyone paused and gave Yuta their undivided attention. "A toast! To Johnny, Happy Birthday again!"

You grab ahold of your drink and raise the glass high into the air to follow the boys.

"Cheers!" everyone shouts and the sound echoes throughout the space as everyone takes a sip of their drinks.

"Thanks, man, really," Johnny grins widely, patting Yuta's shoulder and shaking his friend's hand. He faces you and locks your gaze. "Now that we're not deafened by shitty club music, I just wanted to say how great it was to see you all again. I really did miss this."

Everyone's beaming at him with their hearts on their sleeves. Even you.

"I never stopped missing you guys. Truly," he raised his glass and everyone mimicked his gesture. He holds his cup out to toast, the smile on his face wide. "Now let's take it easy and catch up."

You spend hours laughing, reminiscing, and recounting old stories. Misun's stomach hurts so badly she can't help but lay down on Doyoung's lap, rubbing at her stomach, with tears coming out of her eyes as she tells Haechan and Jungwoo not to make her laugh anymore.

Johnny's presence is intoxicating and comforting; his hand is placed across the back of your chair throughout most of the night, only removing it to grab drinks or help pass things across the table.

He's exactly as you remembered from college: warm and charming. So goddamn easy on the eyes. His timbre was so delicious, you wished that he'd whisper sweet nothings to you, hold you in his embrace and tell you you were the most beautiful woman in the entire world. And maybe his kisses were exactly as sweet, perhaps even sweeter, as they once were back in the good ol' days.

You notice that Misun was talking to one of the employees, whispering, glancing at you and Johnny every now and then, but you honestly can't bring yourself to care. Not tonight at least. Not when Johnny's near you, especially, because no man has ever looked at you the way Johnny Suh does tonight. You can feel those brown pools devouring every inch of you as you converse with the rest of the crew, hanging off of everyone's every word.

Johnny's intense gaze has always made you feel self-conscious, yet exhilarated. He looks at you like you're the most incredible thing he's ever seen, and it's captivating. Reconnecting after a decade, you realize these feelings are rushing back. The Johnny from college is different from the man he is now; he's matured in every sense of the word.

"You don't expect me to really believe that you met Johnny at the gym, right?" Mark asks, a giant grin plastered on his face as he wondered how you ran into Johnny after all this time.

"I didn't plan anything at all! I was just working out! I swear!" You raise your hands, palms facing up in innocence, and chuckle as you see the curious and expectant looks on their faces. "I can't control what random encounters my life brings, you guys."

"It's true. I saw her running on the treadmill and came over. Completely unplanned and innocent," Johnny's cool demeanor is calm, but he still has his typical Cheshire cat-like smile plastered onto his face. "Are we done being grilled here? Or are you all gonna keep up with this interrogation?"

Everyone laughs and turns their attention to their new round of drinks that just arrived. The lounge started to get rowdy and loud, the quiet, ambient area turned into a hotspot for those who wanted some post-work release. There were throngs of office people, students and party goers filing in. It was much different from the peaceful, mellow scene just minutes ago.

Misun's grinning like a fool when you stand up. "And where are you off to?"

"Bathroom. Give me a sec," you answer.

She gives you an enthusiastic thumbs-up and watches you walk across the length of the table. Misun and Doyoung slide a keycard in Johnny's direction, nudging their heads toward your receding back.

"What's this?" Johnny frowns slightly, grabbing it in his hand as the couple tries their hardest not to stare.

"Our present to you," Misun answers smoothly, Johnny raising his eyebrows. "We all know that you and Y/N used to have a... thing. So, we figured, you deserved to celebrate in private, without any company."

Johnny looks around at the group. "You guys all know-"

"That you and Y/N hooked up for a full year?" Mark cackles. "Well, duh. We all know. Not really sure how you two think you could possibly be lowkey or discreet about it."

"How could we miss the looks the two of you have been giving each other or the times you both snuck off campus on some weekends?" Jungwoo chimes in.

"And you thought we didn't know?" Yuta rolls his eyes and laughs.

"The worst kept secret of your life, if you ask me," Taeyong added with a laugh before slapping his back. "Reconnect, man. Who knows? Maybe sparks could reignite."

"That would be fucking wild," Haechan laughs as a fresh set of drinks is laid upon the table and clinks his glass with Mark's.

"Johnny!" Yuta smacks Johnny's shoulder. "Don't let another decade slip by wondering what could have been."

"Go to the private room and make out or something," Taeyong wiggled his eyebrows. "And whatever happens afterwards is totally none of our business."

Johnny stares at the card again, eyeing the shiny material before shooting a confused gaze back at Doyoung and Misun. "I... really don't know what to say. This is unexpected, honestly."

Doyoung smiles. "If anyone deserves something this nice, it's you, Johnny. Go get her, man."

After returning from the ladies room and taking a brief moment to fix your lipstick in the mirror, you check the time and see the numbers, 9:45pm. You run your hands over the black dress and fix your hair, spraying a bit of perfume before exiting the bathroom and re-entering the busy lounge.

Your eyes wander about the space and see everyone else standing up and conversing as you make your way back. The lounge has become noisier, packed with several bodies, more than you anticipated it to have, but it wasn't as loud or stifling as the last place. You shuffle and slide around to navigate through the masses, spotting the crew around the table. Johnny stood out like a sore thumb with his tall, sculpted figure, and even if he didn't, Misun caught your gaze, making a point to shove the guys to the side and call you over.

You let out a small laugh as you joined your friends.

"Where were you? You took so long," Misun gasped, lurching a bit forward, dramatically pulling you down to sit into your original spot.

"Took forever to line up in the bathroom," you roll your eyes and chuckle at her as the guys slide a drink in your direction.

Misun smirks, leaning in to whisper in your ear. "Are you wearing sexy panties or boy shorts tonight?"

"Oh, no," you pull away and glower, giving a slight laugh. "Don't even start."

"You're not gonna give Suh a show tonight?" she presses, pouting.

You smirk and try not to burst into laughter. You decide it best to not tell her that you didn't think it was gonna happen in the first place, and that her efforts will be fruitless anyway. You smirk, take a deep breath and say, "You're crazy. Why would I do that?"

"You're wearing perfume, you've fixed yourself up..." Misun answered.

"Misun, look around," you gesture around the venue. "There's plenty of girls out tonight. This place is a real hottie central," you say, watching some girls clad in skintight dresses and very high heels saunter by in an attempt to not sound offended by her insinuation. "I was literally in the bathroom. Why wouldn't I wear perfume or freshen up?"

Misun playfully frowns, but continues to gape at you as Doyoung checks something on his phone and reaches out to grab his glass, gulping his cocktail.  "I wanna dance," Misun gets up and tugs Doyoung off of the chair. "C'mon hon, let's go have some fun."

"Behave," Doyoung kisses his wife on her nose before following her onto the small dance floor. Everyone else seemed to scatter, leaving you and Johnny to be the last ones remaining at the table.

"And then there were two," he remarks, bringing his beer to his lips to take a swig, a smirk curling upwards.

"Looks like it," you reply, taking your own cup.

"I'm not complaining, not in the slightest," Johnny says, shifting in his seat to get more comfortable. His thigh now lightly brushes against your leg. "I missed this. Just spending time with friends."

"No girlfriends or lovers back home, Johnny boy?" You ask, glancing at the man, who smiled.

"Nah, it hasn't really worked out in that department... at all. Kinda just me right now," his laugh was music to your ears. You try not to focus on his large frame beside you, or his muscular thigh pressed up against you, or the way his cologne smells so good up-close.

"Really now?" you laugh. "Handsome like that, body like that. Surely the girls must be all over you back in Chicago. So you never had a chance?"

"They're out there," Johnny admits. "I guess I'm picky. Plus," he gives you an intense look, tilting his head forward, as his leg moves and presses against yours in a way that wasn't accidental. His hands slide to his lap. "I haven't had anyone I liked for a while now."

"For some reason, I just don't believe that..." you laugh, finding it hard to maintain eye contact now. 

"What about you? I find it hard to believe that no guy has snatched you up." He leans in further, turning to face your direction now. "What's the story behind your single ass?"

"I never found that spark, I guess. Plus work's been hectic," you respond, sucking your lower lip in.

"Life works in mysterious ways, huh?" His smile is endearing and gentle. "So many people cross our path every day and you never know who it could be, really." He pauses, and puts a hand on yours, which had been resting against the side of the table. His fingertips send jolts through your body.

Johnny's touch was electric. His fingers, his entire hand envelopes yours, leaving you at his complete mercy.

"Maybe you'll end up meeting someone again? The perfect match?" he added, his hand not moving or leaving yours.

"That would be nice," you said, and took a large swig of your drink. You give him a friendly smile and laugh to yourself, relaxing as the pounding music and the vibrations start to drown out everything else in the lounge. You notice a few younger women eyeing your handsome companion with interest, shooting furtive glances and hopeful smiles his way. Their body language is easy for you to pick up on; you're no novice at this game.

Johnny catches sight of the girls who are looking over at him and does absolutely nothing about it. In fact, his hand snakes across your lower back and his fingers are pressing into your back with a possessive grip, not even bothering to acknowledge any of the women gawking his way. Your breath hitches at the feeling of his strong, firm hands massaging your lower spine.

"Oh?" You turn your gaze away from the girls and stare at him. "They seem very interested."

"They got nothing on you," he replies smoothly, and a dangerous glint appears in his eye, and then he's slowly and methodically raking his gaze over every part of your exposed skin. "Absolutely nothing."

You felt heat coiling within your gut as he did this.

"Even after a decade?" You blink rapidly, cheeks burning. You down the rest of your drink, hoping that the booze would quell the emotions rushing through your body.

Johnny leaned closer and locked your gaze. His scent, a delicious mix of his own natural musk and expensive cologne, invades your nostrils and a shudder rolls up and down your spine. The intensity of his chocolate brown eyes left you a bit speechless and frozen in place.

"A decade is such a long time," he murmured, reaching his free hand over and gently resting his palm against your cheek. Johnny's expression, and voice, turned a bit tender. "But to me, you're the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, and nothing has changed that. Maybe I'm biased," he chuckles and you couldn't help but reciprocate his sweet laugh, leaning in and enjoying his closeness. "But there's no woman that comes anywhere close to you. You've held my attention since day one."

"What am I supposed to do with you, Suh?" you cock an eyebrow his way.

"Anything you want," Johnny takes his free hand and moves it to brush his thumb lightly along your cheekbone.

"What if I wanted to...continue this..." your throat goes dry and you feel a lump in your throat as you swallow your fear. "Where would we even begin?"

"Right here," his words are just as smooth and confident. "Can I tell you something?"

"Sure, what is it?" you ask, blinking and waiting in anticipation.

"I fucking miss this. Spending time together, talking, laughing. I've missed you," his thumb gently rubs circles along your cheekbone, making you shudder under his touch. He begins to shift again, allowing his free hand to rub up and down your arm in slow strokes.

His touches weren't necessarily foreign, but it's been a damn decade of no Johnny contact. It felt like years of pent up electricity had just exploded in your heart and your belly, and all you could do was stare at him in response, hypnotized by him. 

"I fucking miss you too," you croak, and lean into him for a kiss. 

His lips meet yours, slowly and softly, before they move and become more hungry and fierce, just as they used to be back in college. You feel his tongue slipping past the seal of your lips and teeth, deepening the kiss, making you moan in pleasure as he savours the sweet taste of your mouth. Your body wants him more, desperately needs him after all these years. You don't pull away from him because it feels too damn good, so you reach both arms over his broad shoulders as if he was going to leave.

"Fuck," he groans in frustration, pulling away abruptly and abruptly breaks off the kiss, gasping for breath, forehead leaning on top of yours. "I miss kissing you."

You stay in place, enjoying how it feels to be in his arms, surrounded by his presence. You watch him fiddle with the empty glass, his hands busy, his focus entirely on the beverage in front of him. There are a few moments of silence, allowing the music of the bar to fill your ears. The light sounds of chatter and music of the bar carry their own rhythm as they blend into an enjoyable soundtrack to the night.

"So…" you begin again, searching his gaze, searching for an indication. A sign of where to take this.

"Why did we stop?" he muses, shifting again and crossing one leg over the other, still rubbing circles on your lower back with his fingertips. "We could have worked it out back then."

"You didn't do relationships, remember? Not your type," you try to remind him gently, reaching for another sip. 

"Did I say that?" he raises an eyebrow.

"Among other things. Lots of other things," you admit and shift in your chair so you could better angle yourself to face him.

"But did you know you were the only girl that I hooked up with for an entire year?" Johnny turns, facing you and presses his hand lightly to your thigh. "Don't get me wrong," he's quick to clarify. "I dated loads. But...You. It was just you, that whole year."

"What are you saying, Johnny?" you blinked.

"I'm saying..." His deep chocolate brown eyes search yours as his words form slowly. "That maybe... Just maybe... You were more than just a fuck to me."

"Pause. Rewind, go back. Rewind ten steps. Because I'm quite sure I heard you wrong," you joke.

"Come on, babe. Seriously. It was only you," Johnny reiterates and he brings his thumb back up to your cheek, stroking your cheek again, softer, gentler and slower, giving you more time to take it all in. His hand holds your jaw gently as he presses his lips back to yours, sweet, sensual and slowly building to a burning, aching desire. "After that year, no other girl could live up to what you gave me. I didn't bother anymore after you. I... It just wasn't the same."

"Oh, come off it, Johnny," you snorted and rolled your eyes, brushing off his comment.

"It's the truth, baby," he grabs your chin gently, and his brown eyes seem so sincere. "And I hate that it's taken me ten years to realize this," Johnny breathes. "But fuck me, if that's not the truth."

His lips connect to yours again,his tongue finding its way inside and licking the sides of your mouth, swirling and caressing until all you can taste is his beer and his want for you, while his fingers travel upwards and weave their way through your hair. His breath catches and he presses his forehead to yours again. Your heart races at his declaration, beating madly in your ears, like a drumbeat pounding against your chest.

You bite down on his lower lip and he moans deeply in the back of his throat, sucking it between his own teeth. You sigh contentedly as he kisses the sensitive spot under your chin, letting you nibble at his neck and ear, tracing his features with your fingers as though he would vanish and disappear like a shadow.

The air surrounding the two of you has heated up, and so has the tension that hangs between your bodies. His hands roam freely underneath your clothing, running fingers and palms up and down your body as if he has every right to. 

"Want to get out of here, get somewhere...more private?" he mumbles, voice low and hoarse, vibrations transferring through the heat of the embrace to your lips, pressed against his collarbone. You feel light-headed and hazy as the effects of the alcohol and the hot atmosphere are really starting to sink in.

"God yes," you breathe, barely even pausing. The throb between your legs hasn't let up; in fact, it's almost gotten worse now. And as much as you enjoy the flirtatious banter and light teasing, all you can think about is just how badly you want to be touched right now.

He grabs your hand and leads you up to a private room with tinted windows that spanned from the ceiling to the floor, a beautiful view of the city to be taken in. You follow him, buzzed enough to be ready to go wherever and do whatever, confident and unafraid.

"When did you manage to reserve this?" you asked him as he closes and locks the door and turns to you, eyes glinting.

"Apparently Misun planned this. She talked to the owner, told them it was my birthday, and this private room was ready and set up for us," Johnny gently comes up behind you and slides his strong arms around your middle, kissing the back of your neck before resting his chin on your shoulder. "We can go elsewhere if you want. I just want to spend some alone time with you. No distractions and no prying eyes."

You turn to face him, and his beautiful chocolate eyes have grown darker. His face has taken a stern,serious expression. It sends goosebumps down the back of your arms, butterflies straight to the pit of your stomach, and a sharp ache through the depths of your belly. 

"Let's stay here. This is good. It's private," you whisper. You turn away from him to face the view of the skyline, his embrace feeling warm and secure.

He holds you like this for several silent seconds, kissing the shell of your ear gently while you look out. Neither one of you dares to move; you both are at peace and enjoy the feeling and presence of one another, basking in it, letting yourselves indulge in it.

"I have to admit something," you whisper quietly as he holds you close.

"Hm?" he hums, playing with your hands and swaying your hips, embracing his body even closer to yours.

"Back then, you said no attachments and no feelings," you sigh, not daring to look him in the eye as you think back to when you last saw him in college. "The thing is, that whole year that we were hooking up... that whole year, Johnny, I was crazy in love with you."

You hear him inhale and squeeze your body tight, fingers gently digging into the fabric of your dress. You stay still and feel the warm puffs of air blow across the back of your neck as Johnny processes. After a moment, you feel him press a long, gentle kiss on the back of your neck, hands roaming across your skin, leaving tingling trails of goosebumps in their wake.

"We can take this however you want. If you're just looking for something casual, I'm okay with that," he whispers with a hint of a chuckle. He kisses you softly and continues, "But if you're open to something more... if you'd give me another chance..."

You turn slowly in his arms, meeting his warm, caramel-colored gaze. The city lights twinkle behind him, highlighting his chiseled features. He cups your face gently in his large hands, his eyelids lowering at the closeness. "I'll always go at your pace," his voice drops low.

Your hands land on either side of his face and you draw him close, feeling his body melt against yours. "Let's pick up from where we left off, 1o years ago. But this time," you pause and give him an affirmative smile before leaning into his awaiting lips. "I want all of it, Johnny. The dates, the sex, the arguing, the compromising and the intense makeup sex, waking up next to you and feeling like home. All of it."

"Fuck, me too. I want it all, all of you," he grins as his words dripped from his mouth and onto your lips, holding your body tightly to his.

"Oh my god, stop talking and kiss me already," you whisper into his lips.

The moon shines, hanging above the busy streets and city buildings below, lighting up the sky with an ethereal glow. The low rumbling of cars moving down the city streets and people mingling and dancing the night away is distant; the two of you are lost to your own world, content to explore each other with your hands and lips.

Your breathing turns ragged, hitching every time his lips attach to a particularly sensitive spot. He backs you up, slowly, with his arms wrapped around your waist, until the backs of your thighs meet the wall and his broad torso, pinned tightly to yours.

"When's the last time I told you, you're gorgeous as hell?" He says in your ear, nibbling his way down the side of your neck.

"ten years ago? God, stop talking. We've wasted so much time already," you breathed, tangling your fingers into his hair, earning a pleasured groan from the man.

You feel his hot tongue laving over the smooth flesh and relishing how your back arches, your breathing getting heavier. Your pulse raced when he found a certain spot beneath your ear, near your collarbone, that made you let out a weak little cry when he sucked and kissed it. "Feels good?" he mumbles into your skin.

"Very," you hum, placing your hands on the solid chest and shoulder muscles he's grown since college. His once lithe and lanky frame, replaced with solid muscle and definition, a jawline that could cut diamonds, and eyes dark and filled with desire. "Age has really been good to you."

Johnny laughs, and it reverberates against your body, shaking the two of you with its deep vibrations. "Says you. You grew up a lot."

He trails one hand up to the fabric covering your breast and kneads one, plucking at your nipple until you gasp.

"They've definitely gotten a little fuller," Johnny rumbles into your ear, "If I recall correctly." His tongue darts out and traces a path up from your collarbone, hot and wet, swirling against the vein in your neck.

All you can do is let out a whimper in affirmation and dig your nails deeper into his back. Your body is trembling beneath his touch, the delicious feeling of his mouth latched onto that area of your neck, sucking and nibbling the soft skin until he's had his fill. Your head rolls back and the noises escaping your throat become desperate; you claw at his shoulder blades and groan again and again.

"I guess that hasn't changed," he teases with a smirk, voice rumbling across your skin in waves.

"Oh fuck," your entire body trembles, "You've always been able to get me to beg for you. Way too well."

He pulls away from the wet patch of flesh between your neck and shoulder with a small pop and leans his head against yours, trying to slow his breathing.

"Can we continue this someplace with less...window?" Johnny mumbles after a long period of comfortable silence. His deep chocolate brown gaze is languid as his hands caress up and down the side of your body, savoring every curve and edge. "Not that I wouldn't totally have sex in this room with you... But a bed would definitely be more ideal for us, no?"

"Because we're old?" You chuckle. "Sounds about right. We should take our old asses somewhere more comfortable and quiet."

"Who are you calling old?" he murmurs, laughing into your lips. "We're just mature," he insists as his tongue runs along the crease of your lips, gaining entrance.

"Old," you retort back with a gasp and then laugh, feeling his teeth clamp onto your tongue lightly. His laughter is low, rumbling deep from within his chest, resonating off your own and mixing.

"Will you spend the night with me? Back at mine? I mean it. All of it," Johnny clarifies. "Mess around? Curl in bed. Wake up and cuddle? I've missed cuddling you," his face becomes serious, turning from teasing and flirty to longing and sincere, with a gentle tenderness showing across his eyes and face. He brings his hand up to cup the side of your face, staring into your eyes, searching, willing for you to agree.

"I don't know if I can wait, I kind of just want to jump you right now," you respond back.

"Yeah?" Johnny huffs out a laugh, looking around the private room. "Right now?"

"I mean, there's a couch right here," you joke and tilt your head to the cushy leather sofa sitting at the side. "Can I at least suck you off here, and then we go back to yours to continue the night?" you ask softly, slowly pushing him backward towards the seating. "Then maybe," your hands land on his belt buckle, gently slipping your thumbs between the leather strap, pulling it away from his body and giving you the chance to remove the metal piece. "Maybe later we can take our time? Go slow or fast, soft or hard...in your bed..."

"Fuck. Sure, sure. Anything," Johnny responds breathily, not putting up any resistance as he is guided back onto the leather seating, scooting backwards until his back is resting against the cushion. "Whatever you want."

Your eyes drop from his, and your eyelashes flutter softly, focusing on the belt unclasping, buttons being opened and the zipper being slowly lowered.

"Jesus christ," Johnny's voice is hushed. "How do you still fucking do this to me? Even ten years later?"

Your heart melts at his statement, and you pull yourself closer and wrap your fingers around his waistband, peeling the material down his hips and freeing his thick member, causing Johnny to audibly groan when his erection sprang out, now pressed tightly against his stomach.

The smell of his intoxicating musk fills your nostrils, and your head immediately becomes woozy. Your heart picks up, almost skipping a beat, and the rush of blood starts to make you dizzy. You've almost forgotten the effect his cock and his arousal had on you. The thick vein underneath and how it'd pulse against your hand. The swollen, red tip and the liquid pearl leaking out.

"Damn, I missed this cock. So fucking much," you whispered before lowering your head to give the leaking tip an experimental kitten-lick.

"Fuck," his legs twitch from the action, and he bites back a curse. Then he growls, "Go ahead, put those pretty lips around me like the good girl I remember."

Without another word, you flatten your tongue at the base of his member and slowly move up towards the tip. He stiffens further and his breathing picks up and his pupils dilate, enraptured with watching you.

With half lidded eyes, you lock gazes with him, never once looking away as you begin to lower your mouth onto him. He twitches slightly as you swirl your tongue around him, bobbing up and down at a steadily increasing pace. A bit salty, but also fresh and earthy, your taste buds get an alluring hit, just a small sample of what he would taste like when you have him completely. Your nails gently dig into his outer thighs and he sucks in a breath, trying and failing not to buck up into your hot, slick heat.

"Feel better than you remembered?" You tease.

"Mmm, the same and different," he replies. "A lot…dirtier than you were back then."

"Yeah?" Your hand grips the shaft and begins pumping up and down the velvety hot length, thumb running up and down his length, pressing your fingers into the areas you know drive Johnny crazy.

"Baby," he hisses in a low, throaty grunt, eyes sliding shut, languidly rolling his hips and driving further up into your hand. He enjoys the smooth, tight pressure, and the way your grip firms when his cock grows to its fullest, leaking thick beads of pre cum. You swallow and suck, hollowing your cheeks as you swirl your tongue in an obscene motion along the leaking head. "Baby, don't stop. God, that feels good. Just like that."

With a sly, glinting look, you press open-mouthed kisses and long licks to the sides of his cock and balls. With your free hand you slowly reach out to rub over the spot behind his testicles, massaging and stroking, and you drag him back into the present with the touch. Johnny makes an involuntary jerk and then quickly relaxes back against the seat. Your stomach flutters with anticipation, unable to stop the wide smirk spreading across your face as you enjoy this, having his hot length stretching your lips wide and stuffed down your throat. His groans sound like music to your ears.

Johnny threads his hands into the locks of your hair as the only warning you would get before yanking your face against his groin and keeping you in place as his cock jerked inside the confines of your cheeks, sending a thick white ribbon of semen straight to the back of your throat. You feel his hot sticky cum coming up to coat the back of your throat, spurting it straight down. His hips rock in erratic jerks as his hand wraps itself firmly around the back of your neck, rubbing comforting little circles onto your skin.

"That's my girl," Johnny coo's sweetly. "Swallow it for daddy." He watches in arousal and satisfaction, enjoying the show, as you open your mouth and stick out your tongue. It’s covered with ropes of thick white cum, and there's some lingering inside. But you did a thorough job of swallowing his load down like you always did.

"Daddy?" you question with a playful eyebrow raised. "That's a new one."

"We're older now," he remarks and leans forward. Johnny wipes at the corner of your lips, cleaning the remnants off your face, as well as the trail of saliva and his arousal that are pooling at the edge of your lips. "It would have been weird for a twenty year old me to ask a twenty year old you to call me daddy. Ten years later, older Johnny can't help himself," Johnny admits with a goofy grin.

"Fair, though. We are thirty. Older and wiser," you shrug your shoulders as if agreeing. "It's kinda hot."

Johnny shoots you a pleased grin. "Good," is his only response before helping you tuck him back into his underwear and pants. His eyes wander back to your red-swollen lips and a low chuckle comes out. "Shit, you look so tempting," he admires, getting a hard-on all over again at the mere thought. "Do you want more, baby?"

"Yessir," you whine, feeling his lips drag wet and languid all across the sides of your exposed neck. "Let's go back to your place and do something about this," you whisper, grabbing the edge of his hand and pulling it gently to your wet core. "I feel empty without you, and you're the only thing that'll fix it. Think you're up for the task, Daddy?"

"Fuck baby, I think I just got even harder," Johnny growls, desire surging through him at your bold, straightforward statement.

It didn't take long for Johnny to close his apartment door with his foot and roughly shove you against the wooden material, hand slithering through the inside of your thigh and tugging up, urging your leg around his hip as his fingers bury themselves between your drenched folds.

"God you're soaked," he moans into your collarbone. He peppers you with kisses as he slips his fingers under your panties and against your dripping core. You groan and drop your head back. He shoves his tongue down your throat when his long index finger finds and begins to rub in small circles at the swollen bundle of nerves, drawing a raspy moan from your chest.

"Tell me what you want," he demands huskily into your mouth. "I'm not moving unless you say it."

"Johnny," you grind down against the finger, seeking out more friction and chasing after the feeling of being pleasured by his touch, a sensation you have missed for over a decade and had forgotten just how addictive it could be. You whine, desperately trying to keep your balance on one foot, still holding onto the fabric of his shirt in your hands, trying to find a way to let out your frustration. "Please!"

"Mm? I'm listening..." he hums with a smirk. His chocolate brown orbs have darkened and gleamed with hunger. Johnny presses his palm against your pelvic bone and applies more pressure. "Come on. You can do better than that. What do you want daddy to do?" he asks. "Use your words baby girl. It's not very nice to keep me waiting, now is it? Especially not after all these years and a special birthday celebration for me."

"Johnny..." his name is a moan falling past your lips.

"Yes, that's me. What do you want, sweet thing?" He coos. "Come on, tell Daddy. Tell me what you've been wanting for ten years," Johnny keeps his hand and the rest of his body still. The only thing moving, continuing its stimulating assault on your poor aching core, is that damnable, tortuous finger rubbing back and forth.

"Fuck me," you hiss in reply, grinding against his hand with abandon.

His breath catches in his throat and you watch him visibly react at the admission, eyes clouding over and narrowing on your figure pressed tightly against him, against the door. "Say it again," he repeats.

"Fuck me. Fill me up. Put your dick in me. Do whatever the hell you want. But do it already!" Your words spill from your lips frantically in desperation and he complies, immediately, lifting you up by your ass, feeling you instinctively wrapping your legs and arms around him, and depositing you onto the bed.

He undresses himself before collapsing on top of you, a broad smile adorning his flushed features as his strong hands brush away the hair from your face.

"If I remember right," he begins, mouth dangerously close to yours, sharing breaths. His forehead rests against yours, and his eyes flutter shut, bringing a hand down and slipping two fingers back under the fabric of your underwear, pressing his knuckles against your swollen bundle of nerves, alternating between pinching and stroking.

 "You're sensitive," his breath dances across your skin as his skilled digits work at building you back up. "Here especially," he states and kisses your parted lips, coaxing his tongue against yours in a tender, sensual way that does little to quell the throb in the lower region of your belly.

You gasp as his middle finger finally slips between your drenched lips, he swirled your arousal around your entrance before gliding upwards.

"And this," Johnny draws his hand back, staring intently into your blown-out eyes while his fingers disappear inside his mouth. A guttural sound that seems like a cross between a grunt and growl rolls from his throat, sucking his own fingers. "Tastes just as good as the last time. Ten years have done nothing to ruin your taste."

"Johnny..." you gasp.

"Yeah baby, I'm here," he wastes no time shimmying your dress down to your waist, nipping along the valley of your breasts. Your fingers grip at his hair and a giggle leaves your lips.

He lifts himself from the valley of your chest and sits up, face hovering above your own. One of his hands reaches out to cradle your jaw and gently hold your chin. The thumb of his other hand slips into your mouth, forcing your lips to part further. "Suck."

A burst of something feral awakens deep inside you, and your gaze becomes dark, needy and craving. You part your lips further and roll the soft pad of his thumb around and along your teeth, swirling your tongue, drawing circles and moving up and down across its width.

He inhales sharply as the same feral emotion, the need and want, passes through him. You look absolutely angelic with those hooded eyelids and the sinfully lustful look in your eyes, locked onto his. 

"Let me eat you out," Johnny finally breaks the spell, breathing labored as he loses the fight to maintain the upper hand. "And after that, I'm gonna bury myself deep inside of you and fill you up just like how you asked me to, again and again until morning. Until both of us can't fucking stand,  walk straight or form coherent sentences. Can I?" he rasps.

You simply nod your head enthusiastically. "Yes," you croak. "Please Johnny."

Johnny lets go of the finger in your mouth and drags down the soft swell of your breast, leaving red welts and hickies in his wake. With a satisfied grin, he presses a kiss to the mark and continues trailing the wet trail, dragging your dress all the way down and pulling your soaked panties off.

"Here baby," Johnny taps a finger against your inner thigh and lays flat on the bed, positioning his broad shoulders between your spread thighs. "Thighs, please," he says in a commanding tone and the hint of authority causes a gush to form between your thighs and coat them.

You bite your lip and make no objections and instead position yourself, your thighs pressed against his shoulders, his head positioned comfortably in between, and then his tongue is on you, and your brain short-circuits. You couldn't remember ever being as close or feeling this turned on, the feeling of being completely raw and vulnerable. He adds his two thick fingers alongside his tongue, probing and exploring, and in combination with his sucking mouth, they are expertly playing your pussy like a fucking symphony.

"Good?" he looks up and licks a broad, long stripe, pausing to wrap his lips around your bundle of nerves and then moves back down to tease around your hole. "Tell daddy. How does my girl feel?" He slowly pushes his fingers deep in you and presses and rotates against a particular spot inside, causing you to shiver involuntarily.

"Don't stop!" you demand hoarsely.

"Gonna cum for me?" he continues languidly and brings up his thumb, massaging it gently into your clit in tight, circular motions. "Is my baby going to squeeze her thighs around my head and choke her daddy? Let him suffocate in her cunt?"

"Oh fuck," his lewd words have your insides squirming. "So good, don't stop, just...ugh, keep, just.."

"Your pussy tastes so fucking good. Wish you could see this pretty thing drippin' in front of my face. And the way it's dripping wet," a loud slurp sounds. "So perfect. Would stay between these legs all day. Missed eating this pussy, feeling it pulse against my face as I got it to cum all over me. Goddamn, you feel so perfect," Johnny exhales out another strained grunt, losing his mind, eating you with an unchecked thirst, lapping, biting, and kissing his way around your insides like a starving man, drinking every last drop. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you firmly against him as your thighs try to squeeze him and shut his face between them.

One hand grabs a fistful of the back of his hair and you push him up closer between your legs. The fingers of your other hand reach up to steady yourself against the headboard and brace yourself against his savage ministrations.

"Right there, please!" your voice cracks at the strain, rolling your hips into his face. "Mm, yes. Y-you're so good with your fucking tongue," you let out a keening moan, gripping the back of his head tightly. You can feel him laughing against your skin, fingers still thrusting and scissoring inside you. Your hips thrust upwards with no rhyme or rhythm.

The tell-tale fluttering against his fingertips causes Johnny's tongue to speed up, focusing on your bundle of nerves, and rubbing it until a long, drawn-out whine falls past your lips. "Yes! Oh fuck. Johnny!"

"That's it, sweetheart," his encouraging growl rumbles straight through your sensitive body and has your stomach flip-flopping around the best orgasm you've had in years. "Good girl, ride the waves for daddy. Cum for me. Let me see you fall apart," a grunt escapes his lips, his muscles tense against you. "Wanna feel you like this everyday. Wanna be your fuck toy, wanna be the only one between these legs and in this pussy and your mind. Use me however you fucking want, baby."

Johnny rides you through the waves of orgasms, slowing his movements but not stopping. It takes a while before your lungs work again and before your heartbeat settles from being in your ears and into your chest. When you finally calm, Johnny lowers his mouth from your pulsing sex and offers an endearing chuckle at the state he left you in, still recovering and struggling for breath, sweating with limbs spread out and panting.

"Now tell daddy," his voice is low, taking the position above you, leaning all his weight onto his hands and looking straight at you. His eyes are so intense, you could drown in his dark, fiery chocolate irises. "How does she want to be fucked tonight?" Johnny leans in closer, the tip of his cock rubbing against you. "She can have me anyway she'd like," he languidly thrusts forward, once. Twice.

The wet noises your arousal is making and the light buzz coursing through you from the previous orgasm, combined with his relentless teasing and talking has your mouth working on its own. "I should be asking you since this is a special day for you. It's your birthday, what do you want, old man?"

"Just you. You’re the gift, and that's enough for me," he exhales a low, soft groan at the sensation.

"Sappy," you croak, mustering a soft huff in between breaths and smiling as his shaft glides into your wet, heated folds.

"Baby, if it means I could stay this way," his fingers tap at the spot right above your pelvis and press. "This close and deep in you," a groan escapes him at the thought of what the future could possibly hold. "I want to spend every damn birthday I have inside you." His breath tickles your nose, and his lips graze against your ear before planting a searing, hot kiss against the pulse point. "Think we could make that happen?"

"Depends," your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, holding him flush to your hips and you shudder against the sensation when you feel the length of him drag deliciously across your walls.

"On what?" He asks, fully seated within your slick warmth.

"Whether you could keep it up and give it to me like I like," you taunt back in a husky voice.

"Watch your words," Johnny growls in a warning tone, unable to hide his amusement. He picks up his pace, fucking you deeper into the sheets, as your fingernails dig into his back and shoulders.

"Come on Daddy," you purred against his ear, leaning over to graze his cartilage with your teeth, delighting in his short grunt. "Fuck your birthday present as hard as you can. This gift is not going anywhere," you waggled your eyebrows and couldn't resist, placing your thumb against the tip of his nose and swiping it. "That is, unless you're too old..."

His eyes narrowed. "Guess I'll just have to shut that smartass mouth of yours. Because, oh baby, it's gonna be a long night."

He thrust into you deeply, bottoming out.

"Mmph!" you moaned against his shoulder, struggling to breathe at the sudden overwhelming fullness.

"We'll start with you being quiet," Johnny shifts the position, grasping your leg and guiding it higher up his waist, allowing his hips to sink lower. "That's right," his breathy voice pants against the skin of your neck, licking his way towards the hollow space at the base. "Be good, be quiet, or you won't get this cock back until you've learned some manners."

This was different, so different from the young Johnny. You whimper quietly, as your mouth refuses to form words to respond, choosing to bite into the fleshy part of his shoulders to stop the string of sounds, your lips are unwilling to be controlled.

"Much better," there's no mistaking the pleased tone in his voice.

In this position, his thrusts feel deeper than before and are a much slower, drawn out pace. There's more control. You can't do a single thing except grasp at his muscular arms and hang on as he works on destroying you completely, and he enjoys every moment. Johnny keeps at an almost painfully slow pace, grinding deeply into you before withdrawing excruciatingly slowly, until only his swollen head remains in your opening.

You turn to whisper an endearingly loud "Fuck," in his ear when his large hands seize your wrists and pin them together above your head, and he stops thrusting completely. "Nuh-uh." his nose brushes against your neck.

"What are the rules?" Johnny inquires smoothly. "I won't move a muscle unless you tell me."

"Johnny...I can't.." you gripped his shoulder. "Feels so good. I don't know if I can keep quiet."

"Try for me, baby," he murmurs in response. "Try, and I promise, it'll be worth the wait," Johnny re-assures. "And then our next round, I'll have you screaming and moaning whatever obscenities you want. All you have to do is try to be a good girl, keep quiet while I ruin you for any other cock but mine. Can you do that, sweet girl?"

All you could do in response was nod desperately.

"Good girl," he says and the phrase lights you up inside in a way that's not humanly possible to handle. He then goes back to fucking the ever living shit out of you, increasing the intensity and pace. The sound of the mattress squeaking, the groaning, the banging of the bedpost against the wall, your quiet whimpers and Johnny's filthy grunts fill the air.

"Fuck!" Johnny lets go of your hands and grabs hold of the headboard to brace himself, pounding mercilessly into your slick pussy. "God I love you. You have no idea how much I've missed this pussy, missed you." His forehead rests on the side of your jaw, lips tracing along your exposed throat. "Go ahead, baby. Make all the noise you want."

At the explicit permission, your hand reaches up and clasps onto his arm. Johnny hears the soft inhales of oxygen leaving your lungs. Your heartbeat pounds in your chest at the overwhelming feeling. It wasn't going to take long. 

"Close," you manage to squeeze the words out in a broken croak, slithering your fingers into his sweaty tangle of hair.

Johnny entwined his fingers with yours, his touch sending a surge of warmth through you. "Y/N," he whispered, his voice husky, "look at me." 

You look at him, your breath getting trapped inside your lungs. With a deliberate brush of his fingertips against your skin, he picks up a strand of loose hair. You could never grow tired of the sight of his long eyelashes fluttering, gazing lovingly and tenderly at you as if you're the most precious and most important thing in the entire universe.

"Keep them on me, no matter what. If you do that, baby girl," the dark, intoxicating gleam in his hooded eyes paired with the absolutely feral way he is staring at you is almost too much. "I'll give you whatever you ask. But don't come without me." 

He groans loudly and snaps his hips even more rapidly. "Fuck baby, keep tightening against me like that and I'm going to fill you up, make your belly swell full," he huffs out another deep moan, losing the steady pace and falling victim to the pulsing clenching of your walls. "Give you all I've got."

"Cum in me," your rasp is followed by an even louder cry, completely overcome with sensations that seem to be converging. "P-please..fuck. Fill me. Put that seed deep inside, give me that cum, daddy. Fill me with it."

At this, all hell seems to break loose, and his hips begin slamming into you so rapidly, you swear your teeth are rattling. Johnny releases one of his hands from the headboard and slides it between your joined hands. 

"Keep looking at me," his command is broken and erratic, clearly affected by your begging. The neediness dripping from your tone and the want in your blown out, lust filled eyes has him aching to grant you your wish. His free fingers dig into the flesh of your hips, anchoring him to the world. 

"Goddamnit, baby, you want my load, you'll get it. Going to paint these walls white and then plug your pussy full of my cock. Stretch you around my base. Keep that cum there and locked tight inside of you, while I flip you over and do it all over again, just for you," he rasped. "Again and again, and again. Gonna pump you full until your tummy is so swollen you can't move."

You cry out at the possibility, tightening your fingers with his. Johnny continues his rhythm, using his entire body to pleasure you, his pelvis grinding mercilessly and bringing his mouth against the pulsing in the apex of your neck and shoulder. 

Johnny pants. "Put a baby inside that beautiful womb of yours," his voice trails off, his head dips low. "Mm, and if not this time, well, we'll just have to keep trying. Won't we, baby?"

You hear the squeak of the wood groaning at the strength the two of you are exerting in this position and you clench at his words.

"Let Daddy breed you, hmm?" Johnny murmurs in an airy voice, pulling back just enough to have his face hovering near yours. "You want daddy's babies? Make your tummy all swollen and beautiful for me?" he whispered against your lips, kissing you and nibbling, suckling the sensitive skin.

That does it, and it sets you off. A half-sob, half scream tears through your throat as your core tightens, the pulsing, spasms spreading from the center. Johnny moans in your ear, his teeth grazing your neck, and his hips continuing to thrust despite your own are what pulls him over the edge after you.

"Fuck," he swears and grunts your name in an unfamiliar, desperate rasp. Johnny grinds against you a little longer, helping the both of you through the last aftershocks. His lips return to yours, latching on softly. "That's right baby girl, such a good girl. Mm, coming for me the way I knew you could." He gently praises as his hands explore the sweaty expanse of your skin, hips still jerking ever so slightly with each spurt and moan of relief. 

You cannot find the strength, physically, to return the words. Instead, you nuzzle into his sweaty neck, drinking in the smell, committing it to your memories and mind forever, wrapping your limbs tight around his body like a sloth. He wraps his hands behind you, cradling and steadying you, mindful of the dizzying bliss that courses through you, his warm forehead on yours. Johnny holds you firmly. 

"You've done well," he said lovingly. "Just breathe, good girl."

Johnny pulls back a moment to settle beside you, with your head against the firmness of his arm and peppered several more kisses. "Good?" he questions softly.

"Did you feel good?" Your mouth parts in a toothy grin as you use every bit of strength you have to turn into his shoulder, pushing the damp strands away from his forehead. "Is my old man satisfied with his birthday gift?" you exhaled and caressed his face.

Johnny lets out a deep, satisfying sound that's a cross between a laugh and grunt, eyes flashing as they lock onto yours. "Could've done without the 'old man' crack, but yes," his thick fingers slowly brush over your temple and jawline. "I'm thrilled and completely satisfied with my gift. Fuck baby," Johnny presses a kiss onto the sensitive tip of your nose, which in turn wrinkles. "We should have been doing this a helluva lot longer."

"It's okay," you reassured him, taking his palm and entangling your fingers through his. "We have our whole lifetime now to make up for those missed years." You giggle. "Because like it or not, Johnny Suh, you're stuck with me. No takesies-backsies."

"Noted," his smile reaches his eyes, creasing and sparking at your silliness. He notices your eyes beginning to droop and an amused sigh escapes him, slowly guiding your body on top of his. "I know that was a lot for you. Are you sore? Tired? We can have a bath and have you resting before the sun rises, how about that?"

"Bath and then snuggling sound perfect," you nudge the side of your face into his chest, drawing on an even breathing.

"That's my girl," he coos, slipping the unruly tendrils of hair, hanging into the front of your face and tickling him, behind your ear. "I love you. Today has been the best birthday I've ever had."

"Happy birthday, Johnny," you're practically vibrating with content, draping yourself even more comfortably, perfectly content to fall asleep right where you are. "I love you too."

[lis-likes-fics]

Sweet Tooth

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Reader Word Count: 1.7k words Prompt: Finger Sucking Warnings: NSFW, smut, finger sucking, magic use, oral (f!receiving), swearing, praise... A/N: Was gonna post this as a drabble but decided not to cuz I didn't like the format but anyway enjoy and thank you!

“Sweetheart!”

You glance back at her from the living room. Wanda's been in the kitchen all afternoon on some baking spree, and you've been helping taste test things all day. You've had her finger in your mouth maybe seven different times, and you're sure it's going to drive you crazy.

You stand, walking over to her as you chew on your gum. “Yeah?”

“Taste this for me. I wanna make butter pecan ice cream.” Her smile is endearing, white and gleaming as she looks up at you from her mixing bowl.

You smile, tossing your gum in the trash on the way to her. You wrap an arm around her waist as she dips her finger into the mixture, waiting for you to part your lips and let her in. You stare at her face as you suckle gently around her finger, her gaze locked on your mouth.

You hum, pulling off with a light smack and licking your lips. “It's good. I like that.”

She smiles gratefully, grabbing the new ice cream mixture she'd bought recently. “You okay? That's, like, your third piece of gum today.”

You rub her side, moving away to lean against the counter. “It's actually my fourth. I'm gonna get cancer.”

She snorts. “But you're okay?”

You nod, your smile widening as you agree gently. Her care makes you fond because she knows that you chew gum when you're stressed or anxious—you have an oral fixation that entices you to always carry around gum or candy, anything you can use to occupy your mouth when you need to. She's always been wonderful about it.

“I'm okay.” It's nice to be cared for like this. “Someone just has me a bit worked up because she keeps making me suck on her fingers, even though utensils exist.”

Again, Wanda snorts as she spoons the mixture into the ice cream machine. “Yeah, but that's no fun.”

You smile, wrapping your arm tighter around her front. You pull her over so she stands in front of you, turning her face to press a kiss to her lips. She smiles against your mouth, setting the spoon and bowl down in favor of cradling your face.

“You sure you're okay?” she whispers into your mouth.

You nod, humming lightly and kissing her again. “I'm perfect.” You kiss her again. She's wearing strawberry chapstick, it tastes really good as you tilt your head to deepen the kiss. “You're so pretty, honey. You know that?”

The slightest giggle tints her words. “Thank you, baby.” Her fingertips brush along your cheek in calm adoration. “But I can't take all the praise, look at you. My pretty girl.”

She kisses you again, and you feel like you'll stop breathing if she does it any longer. Her tongue swipes along your bottom lip, and you sigh into her as you part your lips. You hold her by her hips with a smile, enjoying her closeness.

After a moment, you pull away to dip your head into the crook of her neck. She smells like heaven as you inhale her scent, letting it wash over you while your tongue darts out to taste her skin, suckling and nibbling love bites into her neck and shoulder.

Her hands travel to the back of your head and neck, holding you close as her eyes flutter shut and her breath passes in gentle sighs. You sigh, your gentle affection growing in hunger as you search her out.

“You're eager today, sweetheart,” she coos as you mouth at her shoulder. You only hum in response.

Wanda sets her hands on your hips. She hoists you up onto the counter, letting her hands cradle your face. “Open up, baby.”

You part your lips, and your eyes flutter when she traces your bottom lip with two fingers. Your tongue darts out instinctively, grazing the tips of her fingers and drawing a smile to her lips. When she pushes those fingers into your mouth, you hum as you suckle around them.

Your hands reach for her, settling on her waist and pulling her in between your legs. You sigh heavily as your tongue laps along her fingers. They still taste of sugar, so sweet and so comforting as you let her pump them slowly in and out of your mouth.

“There you go, sweetheart,” she murmurs. “That feel better? Just nod or shake your head.”

You nod emphatically, your hands raising up to grasp her wrist and keep her there. She curses under her breath at the way you suck on her fingers, eyes droopy and saliva gathering at the base of her fingers.

“Such a good girl, baby,” she coos again. “My girl just needed something to suck on, didn't she?”

Your sigh is a whimper around her fingers. You lick them in, more and more messy by the second as you feel yourself melting under her. She presses down on your tongue, strokes the flat of it with her fingertips. As she thrusts them in and out of your mouth, brushing against the back of your tongue, you can feel yourself dissolving.

You feel pressure on your clit, this strange, surreal tightening and stroking that you've come to recognize as Wanda's magic. Your hips jerk lightly, your stomach tensing. She smiles. You can see a red glow at your side out of the corner of your bleary eyes.

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” she whispers. You nod again. The stroking spreads, traveling further inside until you feel it in a spot that makes you dizzy.

You mumble around her fingers. You can only imagine how you must look right now—drooling over her fingers, eyes droopy, humming and moaning and aching for more.

Your tongue explores the length of her fingers, licking at the skin stretched between them, gliding along the bottom, stroking along her knuckles as they brush back and forth between your lips.

You take hold of her waist, tapping her side likely. She removes her fingers from you, but the stroking at your clit continues. “What's wrong, sweetheart? Are you done?”

You shake your head, sliding off the counter and onto shaky legs. “No, just…” Your tongue feels heavy. You embrace her in a deep kiss rather than answer her, loving on all the parts of her that you can reach. You raise her shirt up as you move onto your knees, pressing eager lips to her belly and listening to her sigh.

“My good girl,” she purrs, tilting her head back and letting her eyes shut. You pull her shorts down her legs, helping her to step out of them.

You lick along her inner thighs, leaning her back against the fridge as you bring one leg over your shoulder. She sighs, stroking her hand through your hair.

When you lick between her folds, her hips tilt up toward your mouth. Your eyes shut and your breath blows against her as you tuck yourself between her legs. You lick and suck at her folds with as much enthusiasm as you had with her fingers. It feels good to taste her like this, to have your mouth on her and listen to her sigh and moan.

“Fuck, baby,” she whispers. “Right there.”

Her magic continues between your legs. It's warm and almost tingling, a gentle squeeze and lick that makes it hard to focus on everything going on around you.

Your tongue goes lazy at her clit, what was a practiced skill, now a messy and greedy mesh of tongue and lips and teeth. She holds onto you as her brows pinch together and her lips part to let out deep sighs and needy moans.

Your thighs quiver, and you can feel her magic becoming more insistent the closer she gets. “Good, honey. Just like that. Don't stop,” she whimpers, hips keening, searching for more of you.

Her words encourage you until you're pressing yourself so closely into her that she nearly yelps. “God, you're so eager, baby. You're gonna make me cum.” She curses again. You hold onto her hips, guiding them toward you and moaning into her as the magic grows and grows and grows. You keep loving on her, sucking on her clit and listening to her moan.

“Don’t stop, baby. Jus’ a little more.” Her folds flutter on your tongue as you lap at them. Her thighs tense on either side of your head.

When she unravels, her magic flares within you and sends you over the edge. Her legs tremble around you as she gasps, holding onto your hair and cupping your head as she grinds her hips into your face.

“Oh, God, baby,” she moans. “Good girl, baby! Right there. Fuck.”

You moan into her, feeling mushy as you cum with her. Your hands press into the plush of her thighs, eager to keep her right where she is. She continues to ride out her orgasm with you, shuddering and sighing as the sparks fly.

She has to push you away when she becomes over-sensitive. She gasps lightly, guiding you from her pussy and squeezing her eyes shut. “Oh, fuck. Okay, okay, okay.”

You catch your breath, heavy and deep as you try to steady yourself. You feel content, deeply satisfied as your tongue sits tiredly in your mouth. You look up at her with bleary eyes, smiling lazily. “Good? S’that good?”

She nods happily. “Yeah, baby. So good.” She takes your face in her hands, her fingers brushing your jaw as she bends down to kiss you. It's a nice kiss that you relish in, more calm and easy.

“Shit,” she sighs. “That took a lot out of me.”

You stand, cradling her face in your hands and pecking her lips again. “I'll finish this. You go lie down,” you coo. “I'll be there in a sec.”

“Are you sure? I can do it,” she whispers.

You kiss her again with a nod. “Go on.”

She smiles into yet another kiss, turning to do as you've said as she picks up her shorts and underwear on the way out of the kitchen. You finish moving the ice cream mixture into the machine and turn it on, washing some of the bigger dishes before going to join her.

She's already asleep when you find her in bed, curled up with a pillow. You smile lovingly before scooting in behind her, pulling her into your body and kissing her shoulder. “Love you,” you whisper against her neck.

She hums.

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[gain-stuff-eat]

who, may i ask, are you growing these love handles for, hm?

they're so luscious, filling my hands, you've made all this fat so easy to grab with your constant eating and endless stuffing

you are the very picture of excess and indulgence

don't think i haven't noticed all that snacking you've been doing, the constant grazing, the multiple meals, the huge portions, the increasing amount of delivery orders that show up all times of the day and night

you're insatiable and your body shows it

it's obviously not an accident, what you're doing to yourself. you clearly enjoy it. i doubt you thought you'd get this out of control... oh, you liked that? pointing out your uncontrollable appetite, the fact that you can no longer resist this hedonistic lifestyle you've spiraled into?

you're craving more right now, in fact, aren't you?

why don't you just go ahead and eat? we both know that's all you want to do anymore. all you think about. eating and stuffing until you can't move, and masturbating until you fall asleep. then waking up and doing it all again with even more food than the last time maybe because you can't help yourself. it's not your fault it keeps taking bigger and bigger meals to reach that fullness you constantly crave

gluttony looks so good on you

so much decadent fat. it spills and undulates off your frame. don't you feel so heavy? doesn't it feel so good? you wobble and jiggle with every step, no wonder it's hard to think about anything other than food

it's so easy to grab all this pudge because your shirt doesn't even fit. hadn't you noticed your gut hanging out? or has outgrowing clothes become so normal you don't even notice? with the way you stuff your face i'd be surprised if anything in your wardrobe fits. but the fabric strains over your softened, expanding body and reminds you to keep eating too, huh? you like how it feels a little uncomfortable, fits a little poorly, draws eyes to your growing figure

it makes you want to eat

i can tell because you started touch and feel your belly at just the thought, even though i can tell you ate not that long ago with way you can barely move, how you've beached yourself

you're so greedy

but that's okay because you chose this for yourself. you wanted this. you conditioned yourself to get this fat, you've pleasured yourself to the fantasy, after each massive stuffing, and now the reality is you crave this feeling. glutting yourself, getting heavy, the constant bliss of being in a bigger body all the time because food just taste too good and you only want more of it

don't be shy, go ahead and play with your belly. there's so much it, it's impossible to resist. press a finger into your navel, revel in how you've transformed yourself through your appetite alone

speaking of, better get yourself something to eat soon

you're starting to get hungry again

[nakylvr]

teasing megan about how she doesn't have a mean bone in her body and that there's no way she can be dominant with reader until ur both alone then she shows how rough she can be how she is not a pillow princess (her words and this is her first time being dominant and has no idea what's she's doing but something takes over her)

dom!megan truthers rise ✊ happy birthday to my queen

7TH SENSE

warnings/tags: language, nsfw content, dom!megan, sub!reader, fingering (r receiving), orgasm denial, begging

minors dni

teasing your girlfriend was fun. mainly about how she didn't have a single mean bone in her body even if she tried to be mean, or that she could never even get near being the dominant one when it came to being alone. but, today you pushed your luck a little too far.

you two were at a friend's party, and maybe it was the environment that had started up your teasing towards megan, and maybe it was why she responded the way she did. the longer the night went on, the more you continued to tease her. you were never mean about it, but it was enough to tick her off slowly but surely. eventually, after one last comment, she snapped.

"megan, what are you-" you try to say as you get dragged by your girlfriend throughout the house, but the look she shoots at you has you quickly shutting up. she pulls you into an empty bathroom, closing and shutting the door, pressing your back up against the sink. "megan-" you try again, but before you can get anything else out of your mouth, megan kisses you with such force you can't help the little noise that comes from you at the action.

megan grabs you by your thighs, lifting you up onto the counter and standing between your legs, your back almost pressing against the mirror at her pushing against you. she bites down on your lip, a quiet gasp coming from you which she takes advantage of to slide her tongue inside your mouth. your hands grasp her shirt, bundling the material in your hands as her tongue explores your mouth. her hands rest on your thighs, one of them slowly getting closer to the waistband of your shorts. her hand dips into your shorts, her fingers feeling the wet spot on your panties and pushing the material to the side. she quickly finds your clit and slowly starts rubbing circles as you finally part from the kiss to let out a quiet moan. within a few seconds, she pushes a finger in you, with a look on her face that has you getting wetter than you already were.

"f-fuck!" you gasp as she starts a rough, fast, pace of thrusting her finger in you. "megan, s-slow down,"

"oh, shut up," megan replies in a low tone. "you're the one who was just trying to irritate the shit out of me, don't try to say you weren't," she says as she pushes a second finger in. "i'm not a fucking pillow princess," she grumbles in an angry voice. "you just had to go on the whole goddamn night."

"i-i didn't–" you're cut off by a loud moan escaping your lips when she slips a second finger inside you. your hand grabs her wrist tightly, your nails digging into her skin as she thrusts her fingers in and out of you at a pace you could barely keep up with. to say you were surprised would be an understatement, considering you had rarely seen this side of her before. it had happened once, but that was a while ago, and it was for barely a minute, so honestly you didn't think it would happen again. "fuck...please, please don't stop."

"didn't what?" megan taunts. "didn't try to piss me off? look at you now, you're begging me to fuck you." she curls her fingers experimentally, a smile forming on her face at the whine you let out, making her do it again. "you like that? huh? answer me."

"yes!" you nod quickly, your eyes squeezing shut at her gaze on you falling apart because of her. "i love it, i love it so much– oh my god!–" you gasp, your hips moving trying to meet her fingers thrusts, feeling the knot in your stomach tightening.

"you're so tight around my fingers, baby." she leans closer to you, starting to suck and bite on your exposed neck, leaving dark marks that will bruise and remain for the next few days. "are you close? you wanna cum, baby?"

"please! yes, yes, please!" you cry out, not even caring about the possibility that anyone could hear you from outside the door. "please, i'm so close! please let me cum, please, i promise i'll be good, please."

leaving another bite on your neck, megan feels your walls clench around her fingers, and she knows you're close. pulling away from your neck, she grabs your cheeks with her free hand to make you look at her, stopping her fingers movements which make you whine at the feeling. she slowly removes them from you, causing your eyes to open when she holds them near your mouth.

"baby, please don't leave me like this," you whine, hoping it'll convince her. it doesn't faze her, her fingers covered in your slick still in front of your mouth waiting for you to suck on. with a whimper, you open your mouth letting her push her fingers in, sucking them clean.

when she thinks it's enough, megan pulls her fingers out of your mouth, looking at you with a small smirk. "you're gonna have to wait until we get home if you want to cum after what you pulled, that's if you're lucky. understand?" she tells you.

"yes," you whimper with a nod.

"good," she smiles at you, pushing your panties back to their normal position and fixing your skirt. "let's go back."

[cyberhughes]

Could I please get a rum & coke? #17 with Connor Bedard

cyberhughes 200 follower special ⋆ .˚

rum & coke coming up!!

prompt #17: "i can't get you out of my head."

warnings: breakups, angst angst angst

fuck sorry this one kinda hurt i think im projecting w this one guys LOL (god help me.)

prompt list

connor bedard was the love of your life.

was.

officially, you had been with him for two years, but you knew him longer than that. the two of you sharing a bond stronger than anything throughout your childhood.

it had been one year since the end of said relationship, one year since he had left you crying in front of your apartment as he walked away with your heart, and one year since you had lost your best friend and lover in one fell swoop, your twin flame.

you grieved like never before. it was almost worse than grieving someone who was dead, because he was still out there, keeping your heart captive.

you couldn't even remember what the first few weeks after the breakup were like. you had locked yourself away in your apartment, letting your entire being be consumed by sorrow.

it truly came out of nowhere, the two of you were happy. or at least, you thought you were.

"connor, what are you talking about?" your smile faltered as he stood in front of you, hands in his pockets while he stared at you with that emotionless expression he always had. "it's just not working." his words rang in your ears and you could feel the reality settle in.

your lips moved to speak but shut just as quickly. you didn't know what to say, how could you? the two of you just worked, he was your soulmate and you were his. he had seen every part of you, felt every part of you, taken every part of you. you gave him your everything,

so what the hell wasn't working?

that's the question that you had destroyed yourself over for the past year. when connor left you, he had taken a piece of your soul with him, and you weren't sure if you'd ever get it back. and so, you'd spend the rest of your life yearning for that piece, yearning for him.

while you were together he was always on your mind of course, but now it felt as if he had taken over you, your thoughts consumed by nothing more than him. you could only think of the sound of his comforting voice, which was now starting to fade away. you could only think of the way his smile could make your heart melt in an instant. you could only think of the way his lips molded to yours as he kissed you. it was like he had left a poison in you when he left, ensuring that he would be the only one you'd ever love.

it wasn't healthy, is what your friends told you. it wasn't healthy to still be hung up on your ex boyfriend after a whole year. but he was more than that, he was your partner, in every sense of the word. you had gone through everything with him, been there for him when no one else was.

now the only thing you were going through was his instagram, scrolling the feed that had already been graced by that little red heart. he was doing good, better than good. maybe you were holding him back, not allowing him to shine as bright as he could. that's all you ever wanted for him, so why couldn't you accept this?

you found yourself going through old photos and texts, not having deleted his number even after a year. soon you found your thumb hovering over his name in your contacts, your mind daring you to call him.

and so you did.

it rang once.

then it rang twice.

and just as it was about to ring that third time, as you were about to hang up knowing he'd never respond, you heard his voice.

"hello?" he spoke softly and you felt your whole body tense as you heard the voice that you once sought out for comfort. sure, you had put yourself in this situation, but you didn't think he would actually pick up.

your breath was shaky as you spoke, "i can't..." your voice cracked, and you were glad he couldn't see you in this pathetic state.

"y/n?"

"i can't get you out of my head." your voice was barely above a whisper, yet he caught every single word.

"it's been a year." he spoke sternly, as if you didn't recognize that, and suddenly it felt like you were being transported right back to that night where he had first broken your heart.

your eyes welled with tears as you heard him sigh over the phone, did he not miss you the way you missed him?

"why did you end it?" you asked, feeling your heartrate increase, you shouldn't have called him like this.

"y/n why are you-"

"tell me." you pleaded as the tears fell down onto your cheeks. a lifetime ago he would've been the one to wipe them away, telling you he'd never let anything hurt you, but he ended up being the one to.

the other end went silent for a moment before he spoke, "i didn't love you anymore."

you felt your heart drop deeper than it ever had, never expecting him to answer in such a way. "why? did i do something wrong?" you didn't know why you bothered asking, he didn't give you a reason then, and he probably wouldn't now.

"i had more important things to focus on." he rubbed salt in the wound, as if you were never important to him. as if you weren't the first name he'd call for whenever something happened to him, as if you weren't the one to carry his weight when he felt like he couldn't continue, as if you weren't the one who kept the flame of his soul alight. he didn't care as much as you did, he never did.

and so you hung up.

call ended.

connor looked down at his phone, "fuck." his lip quivered as he tried to hold it together.

you were always the most important thing to him, and that's why he had to let you go. he didn't want to tie you down, a ball and chain keeping you from pursuing your own dreams as you followed him around the nhl.

he knew you'd be alright eventually, and he knew that you’d find someone who could give you all their love in ways he couldn’t. after all he knew you better than you knew yourself.

and that's why he selfishly kept a piece of your heart, because he never truly wanted to let you go.

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

Can I request a non con fic with Marc? We had one with Steven, can he get one too please?

Yes, yes you absolutely can! >:)

Made for him

Yandere!Marc Spector x fem!reader

Cw/triggers: Darkfic, tied up reader, dead dove do not eat, implied kidnapping, non-con/dub-con, p in v sex, fingering, obsessive and possessive behavior, yandere themes, Marc is scary.

Marc couldn't wait any longer, he had to have you. Breaking into your house was a piece of cake for him, and even easier was getting you immobile in your own bed. Fuck, even with handcuffs and tape on your mouth you're so beautiful to him. You couldn't look prettier.

He dragged his fingertips sensually up your exposed thigh, hooking them under the waistband of your panties as he kneeled down next to you.

"You had no idea, hm? No fucking idea what you did to me, honey?" Marc murmured close to your face, his fingers pushing your panties to the side. "Well, let me show you exactly what." he promised darkly.

In response you tried pushing your legs close, knowing what he's going to do to you and squirmed.

Marc sucked in a breath. "Don't do that, sweetheart..." he threatened lowly. Fear made you immediately open your legs back up.

His hand found your pussy, making you tense up as his fingers were fidgeding around with your folds until they've gotten wet.

Marc chuckled lowly. "Aw, are you scared?" he grinned down at you, one of his fingers found its way inside you without a clear warning, making you gasp into the tape at the sudden intrusion.

You tried closing your legs reflexively again, but he tsked in response.

"Nuh-uh, none of that again. Keep 'em open."

The finger inside you brushed against your spot, having you moan softly and buck your hips slightly at the feeling.

Marc smirked when he felt your cunt getting wetter and wetter, adding a second finger to stretch you open, pumping them steadily.

He listened to your soft moans and wet noises, his fingers curling inside you, stroking the spot until your eyes rolled back.

"Fuck, listen to your cute noises. I bet you'd fucking lose it with my cock inside you." He murmured, feeling your hips arching up for more despite your inner struggling he knew you have.

"But unfortunately I can't remove that tape if you're going to scream your lungs out."

Marc removed his fingers, leaving you there whimpering at the loss as he got up, walking around to step at the edge of your bed where your feet are.

"Mmh, you look like a fine piece, ready for me and all mine." You watched him palming himself and slowly undo his pants, shaking your head frantically.

When Marc noticed your unwillingness, he reached for your ankles, pulling you towards him and freeing his aching cock.

"Oh yes you're getting it now. I've waited long enough to get you." He said, lining his dick up with your pussy, running the tip along your wetness and gently nudging your cunt.

"Don't worry sweetheart, it will feel good." Marc promised and with that he surged forward, stretching you open on his cock, not stopping until he ground his hips against you.

He supported himself with both hands on either side of you, pulling out until just the tip remained only to thrust back in again.

"Shit, I knew you'd be perfect." He groaned, maintaining his deep pace.

Your fogged up brain couldn't help but make you arch up into him, the friction he gave you was simply way too good.

Marc chuckled at your obvious response. "Feels good, honey? Want me to keep pounding this pussy until your legs are jelly? Hmm?"

You couldn't suppress the near needy moan, you've gotten so cockdrunk that thinking gotten impossible.

Marc groaned at feeling you slowly submitting to him. "Yeah that's it, I won't stop until I've filled this pussy and it's dripping."

He leaned down, giving your jawline a quick kiss before moving to kiss and suck at the sensitive skin of your neck.

You had no doubt that those spots will turn dark purple giving how hard he sucked. Marc sped up and suddenly bit down, catching you by surprise with a strangled moan, feeling your belly fire up with your impending orgasm.

"You're so perfect, I'll never let you go." He murmured against your skin. He pulled back when he felt you tightening around him. "You're close? Good, wanna feel you cum on my cock, baby."

One of his hands trailed down between your bodies, slowly rubbing your clit, earning needy moans and heavy breathing from you as your orgasm approached.

"Come on, squeeze my dick with your perfect pussy, let me feel it before I fill you up.."

He put pressure on your clit, it made you see starts as you bucked up into him, with your orgasm ripping out of you, your pussy squeezing Marc's cock like a vice.

Marc's hips jerked, his breath coming out in gasps and with one last thrust, he groaned, releasing his hot cum into you before collapsing down on you with his face in your neck.

"Fuck... now you belong to me..." He breathed against your skin, slowly pulling his spent cock out of you but making no move to pull himself up.

After a while, Marc catched his breath and pulled back, supporting himself on one hand while the other sensually dragged two fingers along the tape covering your mouth.

"Wanna know what happens now?" He said lowly, almost ominously.

You swallowed hard, your eyes widened in fear as your mind slowly came back to reality and you shook your head while looking up at him with fear in your eyes.

Marc couldn't resist grinning at your fearful state, loving it how he had you at his mercy.

"I'll get you to my place, keep you there all for myself..."

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

Tags: @nekoyin @steven-grants-world @iolaussharpe-24 @buckyssugarchick @krakenkitty

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @stevendameron @xxjust-a-kidxx @klillaah @ingoldthewizard

@alexxavicry @mochiitoby @Xjust-a-kidx @silvernight-m

Wanna get tagged?

[myloveer0]

''Dream at first lust''

(Ambessa x reader NsFw)😭🥵❤️

(Part III hehehe)

18+ Read it at your own risk!

Warning: Intense smut🔥🔥🔥

---Imagine waking up in the middle of the night, only to find Ambessa standing before you. What would you do?---

Note: Forgive me… it took longer to update this time. I was debating whether to post a next chapter or make this the last one for a while since I still have some pending school projects. But oh well… this chapter is extra smutty. Hope you enjoy it!

You jerked upright, barely biting back a moan. Your breath was uneven, chest rising and falling as heat coursed through you. You didn't waste a second. Slowly, deliberately, you stepped down at the bed toward Ambessa, not caring that you were half-naked.

In fact, you wanted her to look.

You wanted her to see every inch of you—the way your skin was flushed, the way your thighs trembled, how your wetness slickened the soft curve of your legs. You felt it, the warmth trailing down. This was all the power that Ambessa can do to you.

Such a good liar.

Lying to yourself, pretending you hadn’t wanted her offer—hadn’t craved this. Every inch of Ambessa Medarda was everything you wanted. Even the single strands of her hair, the curve of her smirk, the effortless dominance in her stance. She was intoxicating, and you were helpless against the pull. You would gladly accept any offer she can give as long as it was her. But you were just too prideful to admit.

Your eyes rolled in your eyelids as you slowly sat down on her thigh, felt your clit touched of her cold skin. It doesn’t change the fact that your nearly already panting. It doesn’t change the fact that Ambessa watching you this only makes it a thousand times hotter.

Your eyes fluttered shut, head tilting back as you lost yourself in the sensation. Ambessa was watching you—studying you, indulging in your unraveling with a smirk while you use her thigh for your pressure.

“Yess...” The word slipped past your lips, barely more than a breath.

Then you moved.

Slowly at first, pressing forward, grinding against her strong muscular thigh, each motion sending sharp sparks of pleasure through your clit. It wasn’t enough—but oh, it felt devastatingly good. The pressure, the friction, the way Ambessa didn’t even need to touch you to make you tremble.

This feels like a heavenly dream come true. Ambessa was someone you never thought and was impossible to get into. You had only fantasized about her, but now you were here, panting as you as you ride her deliciously.

It was a dream come to life, a fantasy made real. And you never wanted to wake up.

Ambessa watched you for a moment, her gaze dark and unreadable—except for the unmistakable hunger simmering beneath it. Then, without warning, she move, her large hand reaching out rasping against your increasingly sensitive nipples through the thin fabric of your tube top.

A sharp gasp tore from your lips as she rolled the sensitive peak between her fingers. She tugged—hard. A strangled cry escaped you, your back arching instinctively. You can't help but hold to the armrest for support.

Then, she looked up, “Take it off, little one.”

You were only too happy to comply. Fingers trembling with anticipation, you peeled the last fabric from your body, letting it slip from your shoulders and fall away. The cool air kissed your exposed skin, but nothing compared to the heat in Ambessa’s gaze as she took you in.

The way she watches you—God,You can’t breathe. Your orgasm is bearing down on you. You lean back and prop your hands on her knee, giving her full view of the long line of you body as you straddle her thigh. Ambessa jaw goes tight. “ I must admit, child. You have a beauty that demands attention.. ”

You bite your lip for keep from begging for more, to praise you more, but you can’t stop yourself from rolling your hips harder, grinding against her harder and faster. Your almost there. It was too soon but who can you blame? It was Ambessa you were riding.

Ambessa must felt it. She releases your breast before her large hand starting creep down to your inner thigh. So near but so far. She hisses out a breath against your neck. “Your so wet I can feel your wetness dripping”

 You draw in a shaking breath. “My lady If you don’t start touching her, she’s going to touch herself.”

  Ambessa laughs against your neck. “Impatient.”

Without warning, Ambessa plunged one strong finger in your pussy. A gasp escaped your lips as you felt the sudden fullness. You grabbed her arm with the shockness. It was nothing compare to your delicate hands. Even after days of stretching it wasn't as half as Ambessa's. It's like one finger of her was already three in your. She shove it as deep as she could making your body squirm.

You reached up, feeling reckless—bold, even—your mind clouded by pleasure. Your fingers trembled as they traced over her broad shoulder, down the planes of her stomach. The silk robe did little to hide the hardness of her body beneath your touch. She was ripped and powerful. You wanted to look under this silk every inch of her but you were not brave enough. Afraid it will upset her more.

Touching her meant surrendering to something dangerous, something you couldn’t take back. And Ambessa? She was the kind of woman who took whatever she wanted.

"Fuck! Fuck, yes..." Oh god, what am you saying? you don’t know, but you can’t stop. As if your mind stop functioning due to the overwelming pleasure. The words spilled from you before you could stop them, your voice raw, desperate. A flash of panic surged through you as you slapped a hand over your mouth. Too loud. Too loud. What if your neighbors heard? what would they think about you..

But Ambessa didn’t care. If anything, your muffled cries only seemed to fuel her. Then a hot warm sensation covered your nipple. You look down at her and both of your eyes met only to find her mouth covered your nipple. She suck on it, tugged it with her mouth as she circled it with her tongue. You cried. Feeling the cold lip cuff in your skin. It was intense. She was so hot sucking your nipples.

Ambessa's finger didn’t stop. She didn’t slow. Her fingers plunged deeper, relentless, as if searching for something inside you.

And God, she was finding it.

"Look at how greedy your pussy is. You’re practically pulling me in. Don’t you dare come until I say so..'' Ambessa’s commanded. You looked at her with wide eye, disbelieve. Was she serious?!

With pleading eyes, you shake your head, your body trembling with need. "I—I can't! It's impossible… I'm too close—I’m going to come, Ambessa!" you cried out, your voice breaking between gasping breaths.

Ambessa’s grip tightened around your hips, "Not yet," she warned, her tone laced with dark amusement. But your body can't take it any longer.

Then a sharp, all-consuming pleasure surged through you, ripping a scream from your throat. Your toe curled upward as you orgasm. Your entire body convulsed, helpless against the overwhelming release, your whimpers swallowed as you collapsed against her chest, spent, shaking, completely undone.

You were beat. Completely wrecked. That was, without a doubt, the most intense orgasm of your life—and all from just grinding against her. With just one finger. The thought made your body shudder. How much more could you take?

Before you could even catch your breath, Ambessa's strong fingers gripped your jaw, lifting your face from where it had rested against her chest. Her eyes burned into yours.

"Didn't I tell you not to come?"

Your lips parted, a weak, breathless sound. "F-forgive me… I—I was just so lost… I couldn’t think straight anymore…"

Her gaze darkened. "Excuses."

You barely had time to react before Ambessa shifted, standing up with ease—carrying you as if you weighed nothing. A startled squeak escaped your lips, and your arms instinctively wrapped around her neck, clinging to her afraid to fall down.

She moved, each step slow and deliberate, until she stopped at the other side of the bed.

Your breath hitched as you realized where she had taken you.

The two of you stood in front of a full-sized mirror.

Your reflection stared back—disheveled, breathless, your skin flushed still lingering from your orgasm. The moonlight entering from the open window was the only thing that light up the room. It made it a thousand times better that way. There you can see things properly.

Ambessa carried you effortlessly in her arms, cradling you like a bride. You were completely bare beneath her, while she remained dressed in that flowing red silk robe. Against her massive build, you were so small—like she could snap you in half with just a flick of her strength.

You noticed the furrow in Ambessa’s brow. She must’ve been upset that you didn’t listen to her. But how could you? You were overwhelmed by her—the way her mere presence unraveled you, leaving you powerless to control yourself.

God, Ambessa was beautiful, even when she was upset.

You had no idea what was going through Abessa's mind, what thoughts lurked beneath her head. But the thought where all of this all leading makes you shudder.

You swallowed hard. "W-what is this, my lady?" you whispered, you look up at her. While Ambessa eyes was straight infront of the mirror.

Ambessa smirked, her fingers trailing down your spine, igniting every nerve in their path. She leaned in, her breath hot against your ear.

"This…" she murmured, her tone both wicked and possessive, "is where you learn not to disobey me again."

Out of nowhere, Ambessa sat down at your mattress still facing the mirror. She shifted you as if you were weightless, making you squeal as she effortlessly maneuvered your body. You hold both of her arms in support. In a second, both of your foot rested over her powerful knee, your back pressed firmly against her chest. And in front of you—the mirror.

Your legs were spread wide, leaving nothing hidden, every inch of your pussy lips fully exposed stretch wide open. You can see the detail you haven't seen before. God! Hold on? what is she doing!

You gasped at the sight, heat flooding your face as embarrassment crashed over you. You tried to close your legs but Ambessa was holding your leg too strong for you to fight against. The position was so naughty and scandalous made your pulse race, and as your libido stirred once again. And Ambessa was there smirked as she take her time she get to examine every part of you.

All of this so downright scandalous. But It’s so fucking hot.

''Put me down My lady..!'' You gasped..

You tried to cover yourself with your hands, but she stopped you, her grip firm and unyielding. “Don’t you dare cover it,” Ambessa whispered, her voice low and husky. “Didn’t I tell you? You have a beautiful body. It’s meant to be rejoiced.”

She leaned in closer, her breath hot against your ear. She bit it making you moan “But too bad… this is your punishment for disobeying my orders.”

''But th-'' You were cut short when a finger suddenly slip inside your core. No warning. No care. But this time two of her. You bit your lip, trying to suppress a loud moan. You covered your mouth because of the intense. There you see at the reflection, as your watch at your own aroused expression. Your lips parted and cheeks painted red. You can't recognized yourself anymore.

With ambessa other hand stopping your legs from closing while her other arm was stroking your labia up to your clit. You bite your bottom lip.

“This is too much..! .” Except you sound like your asking her more instead of telling her otherwise. Like your hoping she’ll ignore you and pave the way for us to be oh so bad. Reckless. So fucking reckless.

Ambessa ignored you she keeps grinding into, her fingers stroking your clit in the way you need. It was different this time too fast, too intense. Like it was her new favourite thing to do. It’s almost too much, but you don’t want to stop. You don’t ever want to stop.

''A-ambessa! Yes!'' You move your hips as much as you can and moan.

She leaned down, her lips brushing dangerously close to your ear. “This is what you like, little one, isn’t it?” she murmured, her voice low and smooth, sending shivers down your spine.

You swallowed hard, unable to speak.

Ambessa chuckled softly. “Look what at your expression. You look so breedable, completely under the spell of my fingers ” she whispered, her dark eyes locking onto yours in the reflection. “In your strange little object. The things you wrote… the things you wanted.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief, mortification washing over you in a tidal wave. She read it.That far?!

“I read it all,” she continued, like just read your mind. Her smirk deepening. “You wanted me to use you. To break you. Discard you” She let the words hang in the air, heavy and undeniable. “Such improper words, little one.”

Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions—embarrassment, desire, fear—all blending.

You clawed at Ambessa's arm instinctively, but she didn’t even flinch. If anything, her grip only tightened slightly, just slightly, as her fingers began to sank deeper inside. You watched, breath hitching, as both of her fingers disappeared in and out of you—your body fully accepting her, no matter how big she was.

Your so close, but you can’t get there. Your sobbing and trying to move to met her trust, but Ambessa have you too effectively wrapped up. You helpless to do anything but take it.

So this is what it’s like to taste your own medicine, you thought, the realization sending a shiver down your spine. And despite the embarrassment, despite the vulnerability, you loved every second of it.

Your breathing grew ragged, your body trembling with the effort to hold yourself together.

"Y-yes! I'm coming, Ambessa!" You grabbed her arm as she moved her fingers faster, your body trembling under her touch.

Your throat felt raw from the sounds that had escaped you, and Ambessa's firm hold around your waist kept you grounded. The intensity was overwhelming, but your arousal hadn't waned even a little bit. You found your hand drifting to your own clit, desperate for more even as your body trembled. Your legs still spread open while your foot was still on her knee, like it was glued there. You were so close.

It was messy and so fucking good that you whimpered. Or maybe you were whimpering because Ambessa was watching you like it was her own personal porno—something you didn’t even know you wanted. It was so beyond hot. So beyond anything you’d ever thought to ask for.

Your eyes rolled back; you wanted to fight your own orgasm, fight not to close your eyes. But it didn’t seem to matter what you wanted. Your body took over, pleasure washing over you in waves. God, it was so good. Too good. Can a person die from too much pleasure?

"Ambessa!" you gasped again, unable to take it any longer, clutching her arm as the waves of pleasure continued to ripple through you. Your voice was hoarse but the heat between you both refused to fade. Your head rolled back, and the next thing you knew, your release was making a mess on the floor.

Your body immediatly slumped down, every ounce of energy drained from you. You couldn’t feel your legs anymore—numb from the overwhelming intensity of everything that had just happened. You were on the verge of sliding in her body when Ambessa’s strong arm shot out, steadying you with ease, refusing to let you fall.

Your chest heaved, breaths coming in ragged gasps, your legs trembling beneath you. It was all too much, too fast. The heat still simmered under your skin, leaving you dizzy and barely grounded. There’s been too much pleasure in too short a time and your in danger of having an out of body experience. It was intense and hot and so good. God! Ambessa was so good at this. Like she was made to make a woman suspend on it's own pleasure.

Like she was born to do this. Like she was a goddess, not of war, but of sheer, unrelenting lust.

“I… I can’t anymore…” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you raised your head to meet her gaze in the mirror. And the sight that greeted you made your breath catch in your throat.

Ambessa’s reflection was calm, composed. That smug, knowing smirk curved on her lips told you everything. She wasn’t done. Not a little bit.

“You think you’re finished?” she murmured, her voice a low, velvety whisper that sent shivers down your spine. Her eyes locked onto yours through the mirror, dark and unyielding. “No. I decide when you’re done.”

Her words sank deep. She held you there, her grip firm but not cruel. Holding you afraid you'll escape.

“Look at you,” she murmured, her tone soft but laced with that ruthless edge. “You’re already falling apart. But too bad, little one… we still have so much to do. And you’re not going anywhere.”

Your jaw dropped. Oh god… she really wasn’t joking when she said it would last as long as you could keep up with her energy. At this rate, you were sure you’d die tonight just to keep up with her.

..

Your eyes snapped open.

The morning sun poured through your window, spilling across every inch of the room, its harsh brightness a jarring contrast and was painful against your tired eyes. For a moment, you just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, your mind sluggish and unwilling to catch up with reality.

Was it a dream?

You blinked several times, your heart still pounding as if you had just woken from a nightmare—or something far more complicated. You shifted under the covers, feeling the coolness of the sheets against your skin. The bed was cold, undisturbed, like no one had ever been there beside you.

A sharp ache settled in your chest. So it was all a dream?

You sighed heavily, pressing your arm against the mattress to push yourself up. The room around you was a mess—pillows scattered across the floor, the sheets tangled and twisted like you’d been fighting off invisible demons in your sleep. You ran a hand over your face, trying to shake off the lingering haze as the sunlight made your head throb. Trying to process everything.

Then, a dry chuckle escaped your lips, humorless and a little bitter. Just a dream, you told yourself, but the memory of it clung to you like a second skin.

Flashes of the night flooded your mind—Ambessa’s imposing figure, her piercing gaze, how she didn't let you rest for hours. She really used and made you come multiple times you felt dying every second if it, the overwhelming heat of her touch—it all felt too real. So real, it made your cheeks flush with warmth even now.

Who cared if it was a dream. It was the best fucking dream you ever had. You can't help but grin in excitement. God! That was so intense. I hope it will happen again.

You glanced at the clock on your bedside table. 7:00 AM.

A groan escaped your lips as the reality of your day hit you like a brick. Work. You flopped back onto the mattress. The last thing you wanted was to face the world after a night like that. Your body felt heavy, drained, like you’d actually been through hours of… well, whatever that was.

You released a deep sigh, the weight of exhaustion sinking into your bones. Slowly, you shifted in the bed, attempting to swing your legs over the edge—but the moment your feet touched the floor, a sharp, overwhelming soreness radiated through your core.

What the heck…?

But it wasn’t just the ache that stopped you. Your eyes widened as they drifted down to your body. Your chest was a canvas of deep, dark bruises and love bites, some already turning a faint purple. The marks trailed down your torso, a chaotic map etched into your skin. Your nipples were red and sensitive, even the slightest brush of the cool air making you flinch. The trail of marks continued down your stomach.

With shaky hands, you threw back the blanket, your breath catching in your throat at what you saw next.

Goodness…

The soreness wasn’t just internal—your pussy was red like it was ravaged. Even the smallest shift sent a jolt of discomfort through you, making you squirm in both pain and disbelief.

But then, as it all began to settle in, realization struck like a lightning bolt. The memories flooded back, vivid and undeniable.

A delighted scream burst from your lips, echoing through the room. You weren’t dreaming. Ambessa had been here, had touched you, had left her mark on you in more ways than one. The sheer absurdity and excitement of it all washed over you, leaving you breathless. You almost forgot to breath.

You leaned back against the headboard, your heart pounding in your chest, trying to process everything. You grin so hard that it hurts. The soreness, the marks, the memories—it all felt surreal. But the evidence was right there on your skin, impossible to deny.

She was real!

[claggorluvrgurl]

Okay I keep thinking about it I definitely feel like early on in AU Claggor's mourning process and way of coping was just him becoming a crash out. Like I feel like he was full of anger. At the world and himself for being more passive and not sticking to his guns feeling like he should have argued more against doing that job. That maybe if he did Vi wouldn't have died. He definitely let those feelings fester inside him under the guise of trying to be strong for everyone else.

Like I imagine years before Vander really tried to get him to be more assertive. And now look what him not being assertive got him? His sister is dead and now everyone is looking at him. He got comfortable just being the right hand and following. And now he's suddenly a leader and full of worries because he's not sure if he's ever doing the right thing. Because he's a kid and now he's wondering where Vi learned to be so sure and know if she's doing things right. So now he's growing into a ball of anger and sadness and he's not sure who he can talk to. So the best outlet is to just take it out on anyone he gives him a reason .

But no doubt Vander who just lost one child is not gonna notice this self destructive behavior. He's already shaken from losing on kid . He'd be even more worried about losing Claggor . I imagine him pulling him aside to try to have a heart to heart. But the first few times nothing's getting through to him because all he's hearing is that he needs to be better. That he has to do better or he's gonna lose everything. And he internalizes a lot of his feelings putting up a brace face for his siblings. Probably going off alone to deal with people who made sly remarks that they'd hurt his family to deal with them .

The boiling point being when he gets hurt badly because he's still only one person and can't one V one a bunch a guys even if he's a big guy. He comes stumbling back home later that morning bloody and knocks something over because he doesn't have the strength to call for help.

The boy probably ends up on bed rest for weeks and has no choice but to open up. They aren't letting in leave till they know what's going on in that big brain. Because how does a calm collected and rational person start acting like this?? Why does he now think he needs to be like Vi .

Side note I feel like Claggor grew out his hair a lot during this period then cuts it shorter in the end signally the change in his state of mind.

I feel like his appearance changes as he gets worse mentally because he's taking care of himself less so his hair gets longer. But he probably cuts it more in the front so there's less hair in the front so.... Sadly mullet. My son unintentionally gives himself a mullet.

Not sure what his clothing style would look like some artist could brainstorm that if they wanna have fun

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 91, Part 1

As Wildclaw moves on from grieving Clammask, she and Rattlepelt go for a walk together.

[Image ID: Rattlepelt and Wildclaw approach two black newborns. Under the leftmost kit, it reads NEW PLAYER: VALLEYKIT, 0, MALE, QUIET. Under the rightmost, smoky kit, it reads NEW PLAYER: MIDNIGHTKIT, 0, MALE, POLITE. Under Wildclaw, it reads - CONDITION: GRIEVING.]

Rattlepelt typically despised winter. The snow was beautiful, Longest Night was lovely, and she always purred when kits played in the snow. But her Clanmates had fur. They could handle the cold. The winter wind didn't sting their bodies and quickly numb their limbs. They could safely leave camp! Meanwhile, Rattlepelt stayed huddled in the artisan's den, tucked under extra leather pelts while she, Rabbitjoy, and Frostpaw fixed baskets.

The artisan's den was packed with supplies and tools; leather wraps for managing hot stoves, drums, dry ferns and grass for basket weaving, and more. All those supplies trapped heat within the rocks and brambles. There was just enough work for the three artisans to sit and do their work.

"Trust your claws," Rabbitjoy said as Frostpaw pulled twine through the stakes of her basket, weaving it back and forth. "Your claws are made to snag material like this. Let them hook the twine and treat it as an extension of your paw."

"My wrist keeps getting stuck," Frostpaw muttered. She tried to hook her paw around the next stake, but since she was repairing a hole in the side of the basket, her paw had little room to move. The twine kept slipping off Frostpaw's claws in her effort to pull it through without breaking the basket further.

"Repairing a basket is harder than weaving it from scratch," Rabbitjoy assured her. "Don't worry if you can't make it tight. Try your best."

"How do humans do this?" Frostpaw groaned as she finally pulled her thread back around.

"Malformed paws," Rattlepelt explained with a chuckle, tying off the broken base of her basket. She waved her paw, flexing her pads. "Their paws are flexible and good at crafts, but they barely feel a thing."

"They also don't have claws!" Gingerpaw suddenly stuck his big fluffy head into the aritsan's den, his maple seed necklace bouncing on his chest. Estherfern lingered behind him with a bundle of bark, but her apprentice was ignorant to his mentor's shoving. "They just have hard rocks on top of their paws!"

"Gingerpaw, go away!" Frostpaw whined. "We're working! Don't eavesdrop!" Estherfern finally knocked Gingerpaw away from the artisan's den and back to his chores. As Gingerpaw walked off, laughing, Frostpaw groaned and threw her paws over her ears. "I hate him sometimes!"

"He's just being silly," Rabbitjoy said, patting Frostpaw's back. Rattlepelt placed her repaired basket against the den wall. As she stretched her front legs, Wildclaw peeked into the den. Her amber eyes seemed brighter than they had in a few moons.

"Rattlepelt, come outside!" Wildclaw chirped. "It's finally a bit warm. I want to go on a walk."

"I should really help Rabbitjoy finish the basket repairs," Rattlepelt chuckled, snatching loose twine in her claws.

"You've been trapped in camp for ages," Rabbitjoy scoffed. "If it's warm, go outside! We only have one other basket to repair. Frostpaw and I can fix it." Rabbitjoy rolled the remnants of a broken basket toward her. Wildclaw kneaded the sand, eyes glowing. Rattlepelt purred. It was hard to resist that face.

"Let's go, then," Rattlepelt sighed, fixing her lavender-lined fox pelt onto her back. Frostpaw grumbled under her breath as she searched for fresh twine and Rattlepelt joined Wildclaw outside of the artisan's den.

Wildclaw was right; it was so unseasonably warm that the Clan didn't need a bonfire in the center of camp. Snow clung in piles along the dark and cool corners of the rocks and wood, but RippleClan could once again relax against the cool sand of their home. The land beyond camp was no longer white and brown, but a strange, gray-tinted mixture of tan and green. Though Rattlepelt's skin still danced under the soft chill, it was a pleasurable chill. It was a fool's spring, the sort that RippleClan would usually take full advantage of.

But RippleClan was not, in fact, taking advantage of the good weather. Instead, Wolfgaze, Weevilsight, Ravenweaver, and Trumpetspore hovered around the medicine den. They quietly shared tongues and muttered soft encouragement. Some of their friends and mates (Billowhaze, Anchovystrike, Brightreed, Scaleripple) comforted them, glancing into the shadows of the medicine den and quickly looking away.

"It's Mosspounce," Wildclaw sighed when she noticed her mate's confused look. "Honeybuzz just told his daughters. The infection is getting bad. They aren't sure how much longer he has."

"Should we visit?" Rattlepelt gulped.

"Later," Wildclaw quietly promised, heading for the camp exit. "The walk might give me time to think of what to say." Rattlepelt watched as Honeybuzz trailed out of the medicine den, merging into the small crowd. Trumpetspore scrambled into the medicine den as Honeybuzz spoke softly to Wolfgaze, Weevilsight, and Ravenweaver. Rattlepelt dipped her head, allowing her fox pelt to cover her eyes. She ignored the rest of the Clan and pressed into the false spring.

The birds hesistantly tested the warm weather, chirping their questions to one another, as though their fellow feathered friends could provide an answer. The mid-morning light offered the land a chance to stretch and feed itself before the explosion of frost and snow that would mark the remainder of the year. Twigs and branches, reminders of summer's rich foliage, rubbed against Rattlepelt's fox pelt. Her paws sank into the wet earth. Wildclaw strolled beside her, quiet, her ever-present guardian.

The silence stretched on for longer than Rattlepelt expected. The pair journeyed deeper into the forest, simply basking in the light. At one point, they spotted Tallowheart and Splashtuft, going over a few tales. Wildclaw raised her tail in greeting and passed them by. The two mates wandered over boulders and roots. All the while, Rattlepelt thought and thought and thought.

A twig snapped deep within the trees. Rattlepelt froze, eyes locking on the sound. A great buck stared at Rattlepelt and Wildclaw. Its magnificent crown of antlers snagged leaves that refused to fall from their trees despite the pressure of snow and time. Its brown coat blended into the forest. It flicked a round ear at Rattlepelt, blinking thoughtlessly.

"Wonder if it thinks you're a cat or a fox," Wildclaw hummed. The buck slowly lost interest in the two cats. It bent back down and chewed on a twig just beginning to bud, tricked by the heatwave. Rattlepelt took a deep breath. Her chest still hurt from the shock.

"We should go home," Rattlepelt suddenly said.

"What?" Wildclaw scoffed. "We're barely past mid-morning. Why turn back now?" Rattlepelt couldn't answer her mate. Did she even have an answer?

"Do you ever have a feeling that something bad is about to happen?" Rattlepelt asked. She jumped onto a large, mossy rock and spun in circles, trying to get comfortable among the limp leaves.

"Define 'something bad' for me," Wildclaw said. She joined Rattlepelt on top of the rock.

"We've had a lot of good in our lives lately," Rattlepelt groaned. "You've been a great mother to the toms."

"Now that I don't have a death wish anymore?" Wildclaw chuckled.

"You still get into some good scraps," Rattlepelt hummed, gently bunting her mate. "No, I just mean that even with… what happened with Lemmy, the two of us, we've been alright."

"Don't tell the rest of the Clan this," Wildclaw muttered, batting at the wet leaves under her, "but I get where Lemmy came from with killing Achilles and everything. It all spun out of control for her. I feel bad for her, even if she killed our Clanmates."

"It just makes me think," Rattlepelt groaned, "is it our turn next? When am I going to suffer some major loss again?"

"What do you mean?"

"When will tragedy strike the ones I love? Will one of my moms die? Will something happen to Shrewflame, or Whitepaw?" Rattlepelt pulled her fox pelt off. She was almost panting under its heat. "I feel like something's standing right behind me. Like I'm going to ruin everything."

"Is this about the Shardling? We keep telling you that wasn't your fault. It's not like you wanted to be possessed."

"It still happened, Wildclaw. It nearly broke me. Something's telling me that it will happen again. I know I sound crazy—"

"You don't sound crazy." Wildclaw leaned against Rattlepelt. "It's been a hard few moons. You've been stuck in camp. You're stressed. Why do you think I wanted to go on a walk with you?" Rattlepelt sighed. She forced the ripping, anxious itch in her chest out with her breath.

"You're right, you're right," Rattlepelt groaned.

"I always am," Wildclaw chirped.

"Don't gloat," Rattlepelt chuckled, shoving Wildclaw's muzzle down. Rattlepelt dragged her fox pelt back over her sensitive skin as a breeze made the bare branches dance. Rattlepelt could still smell the deer on the wind, but she smelled something else too, something pungent and stranger than any deer.

"Humans?" Wildclaw muttered, tasting the air. "Oh, those are definetely humans. Yuck." Wildclaw sneered at the smell.

"I hope they aren't setting more traps," Rattlepelt gulped. "Frostpaw almost stepped in one last moon!"

"Let's see if they are," Wildclaw suggested, hopping off the rock. "Keep low, alright?" Rattlepelt nodded. She and Wildclaw crept through the twigs and leaves, letting their noses lead them closer to where the WheatClan and AshClan borders met. As they pushed deeper into the forest, the humans soon became audible. There were two of them, with gangly meows that wavered in pitch. Rattlepelt kept low, the tail of her fox pelt dragging on the undergrowth. Wildclaw, nimble as ever, slipped silently closer to the noisy humans.

The two humans stomped around the corner of the three Clans. They were young from their size, with the tight-fitting leathers that typically marked males. Rattlepelt marveled at the leather's bright colors and strange patterns, unlike anything artisans could achieve. The smaller of the two held his front limbs close to his chest, keeping two small forms steady while his taller friend followed and yowled.

"I've never seen humans fight each other," Wildclaw muttered as the smaller human hissed at his companion. The black masses resting in the human's embrace shifted. Tiny mews broke through the human screeching. Rattlepelt held her breath when two sets of baby blue eyes peeled over the leather. The small human had two black kits!

The storyteller in Rattlepelt imagined what the humans could be doing. Were they yowling about the kits? Who were the kits? Did the humans take them from their mother? Did they even know their mother? Rattlepelt's anxieties slipped away, overshadowed by overwhelming curiosity focused on the strange unknowable creatures called humans.

The small human suddenly made a quick, snappy hiss at his companion. His strange eyes focused on the undergrowth… the undergrowth where Rattlepelt and Wildclaw lurked. The pair stayed utterly still, eyes locked on the smaller human. The small human slowly crouched, still staring at the two mollies. He made a soft, mouse-like chirp that drew all of Rattlepelt's attention. It made her stomach growl, as though she spotted a mouse shuffling through the leaves. Her ears turned straight on to the human. Rattlepelt caught herself before she slipped a paw out of her hiding spot. Whatever strange magic the human was wielding, Rattlepelt could not give in!

The human continued making that alluring sound as he carefully placed the two kittens on the ground. They couldn't have been more than half a moon old. The kits crawled on top of each other, stunned by the sudden lack of warmth. The human crept back like a hunter. He crouched at the side of a tree fox-lengths away from the kits.

"Is this some type of trap?" Rattlepelt asked.

"What kind of trap uses kits?" Wildclaw muttered. "I think… they want us to take the kits."

"I thought humans loved kittens."

"Maybe they don't want to take care of them."

"So they leave them in the forest? How cruel."

"But they aren't, they see us. I think they're looking for Clan cats." Did the humans know about the Clans? Did they know about RippleClan?

The tall human snapped at his smaller friend and grabbed his shoulder. The human spun and shoved him off, sneering. They yipped and growled at each other, with their mangled paws waving wildly at the kits. Rattlepelt steadied her jaw. She crept out of the undergrowth. The nose of her fox pelt touched the light first. Wildclaw snuck alongside her. The humans no longer noticed them.

Rattlepelt snatched the scruff of the bulkier kit, a tom with a slight smoky pattern across his pelt. Wildclaw grabbed his brother, who looked nearly identical. As soon as they had a good hold of the kits, Wildclaw and Rattlepelt ran. The two humans startled, finally aware of what the cats were up to, but they had no chance of catching them.

Rattlepelt and Wildclaw only slowed down when the ocean peeked between the trees. They skidded up to a sandy beach and dropped the kits. Both toms were shockingly quiet, merely huffing at the sudden stop and trying to get their bearings. Rattlepelt panted hard. Wildclaw groaned, stretching her hind legs.

"Well," Wildclaw huffed, "I think we found your bad feeling." She waved a paw at the kits.

"You know this isn't what I meant," Rattlepelt muttered. She sat beside the two black kits. Her fox pelt slipped off from all that running. The tail floated on top of the kittens' heads. The bulky tom's permanently unsheathed claws snagged one of the dried lavender petals woven into the fur. So much like Shrewflame.

"I don't know about you," Wildclaw hummed, slipping next to her mate, "but this feels like one of those moments StarClan designs just for us." Wildclaw dipped her paw in front of the smaller black tom, who instinctively crawled to it. He latched his tiny muzzle onto Wildclaw's toe. "The next step seems pretty clear to me. Ready to be a mom again, Rattle?"

Wildclaw was right. The next step was very clear.

(Rattlepelt: 74, female, artisan, thoughtful, leather artist)

(Rabbitjoy: 127, female, artisan, charismatic, master weaver)

(Frostpaw: 7, female, artisan apprentice, strict, lover of stories)

(Gingerpaw: 7, male, cleric apprentice, childish, curious about humans, moss-ball hunter)

(Wildclaw: 83, female, caretaker, fierce, trusted advisor, good fighter)

(Midnightkit: 0, male, kit, polite)

(Valleykit: 0, male, kit, quiet)

Mosspounce died of an infected wound.

[Image ID: Ravenweaver, Trumpetspore, Washington, Wolfgaze, and Weevilsiht crowd around Mosspounce.]

---

"Lemmy better get here soon," Mosspounce muttered. His bandaged, sightless eyes gazed out of the medicine den. "She'll be… very upset if she misses this."

Mosspounce laid in the back of the medicine den, surrounded by his daughters and Trumpetspore. The other clerics all left the den, giving the family their privacy. Washington was still there, though; Mosspounce had insisted the old tom not leave. The glow of a yellow sunset dripped between the thin gaps in the wood, dappling Mosspounce's pelt. Trumpetspore practically laid in the nest with Mosspounce, curling around him. She whimpered as though he had already died. Whenever her voice rose to a cry, Weevilsight had to close her eyes and push back her sudden rage. She couldn't even think about her father. All she wanted was for her aunt to shut up.

When Mosspounce made his comment, Ravenweaver looked ready to join Trumpetspore in her pre-mature vigil. Wolfgaze's hazel eyes tightened. Weevilsight stuck her nose into Mosspounce's ear. For a moment, she was just a cleric again, checking on her sick patient. Mosspounce's ear burned.

"If she wanted to be here she wouldn't have…" Wolfgaze growled.

Wolfgaze bit her tongue, however, when Ravenweaver quietly snapped "She's still our mom, Wolf." Wolfgaze paced around the empty nests of the medicine den, keeping her supernatural gaze off her father. Ravenweaver crawled to the edge of Mosspounce's nest and rested her head by his sickly-smelling wounds. Her lavender crown fell onto Mosspounce's head. Mosspounce shifted just enough to nose Ravenweaver's forehead.

"Your old molly's just off hunting, Mossy," Washington suddenly coughed from his nest. "She's on her way." Mosspounce purred softly and groomed his daughter's head, unable to lift his own and properly share tongues. All the mollies in the den stared at the old gray tom.

"I don't know if we should lie to him, Washington," Wolfgaze muttered, squirming under Washington's wizened eye.

"He can't understand what's happening anymore," Weevilsight quietly explained. "He's too far gone."

"Don't say that, stop saying that," Trumpetspore whimpered. She buried her face in Mosspounce's back.

"It's happening, Trumpetspore!" Weevilsight suddenly hissed, the petals in her fur fluttering out as she turned to her grieving aunt. "And… and there's nothing else we can do for him." Weevilsight stepped back, forcing her sneer off her face as Trumpetspore wailed again. Trumpetspore clawed at the edge of Mosspounce's nest and shook so hard that Mosspounce moved as well. A painful buzz filled Weevilsight's chest and made her limbs ache. Her head burned with too many thoughts. There was nothing she could do. Not for Mosspounce, not for Lemmy. She was losing both of them in less than a moon.

"I'm not trying to intrude," Washington croaked, shaky paws pushing out from his nest, "but could you help me close to him?" Weevilsight took a while to move, even as Washington groaned under the simple yet mountainous effort of standing. Washington's groaning mixed with Trumpetspore's moans in a painful chorus that threatened to undo Weevilsight's remaining sanity. The tortoiseshell cleric slipped beside Washington and supported his large weight. With Weevilsight under him and his broken leg stiff and splinted at his side, Washington limped to Mosspounce's nest.

"You're a funny old flea-feast," Mosspounce whimpered as Washington fell next to him.

"I'm glad I could make you laugh," Washington purred, "even if we haven't known one another long." Washington set his paw against Mosspounce's shoulder. "I'm sorry to see you go. But this is a good death, in my eyes."

"A good death?" Wolfgaze huffed, marching in front of Washington. "What would be 'good' is if my father wasn't dying at all!"

"But he's dying with his family around him," Washington groaned, waving at the mollies crowded around Mosspounce. "That's more than many get."

"Hi again, Tempest," Mosspounce muttered, lifting his head slightly. "Have you met my mollies? They're good kits." Weevilsight's paws inched toward the exit. She needed to stay, she had to stay, yet her body pushed her outside. Still, she stayed long enough to catch her father's last words.

"Lemmy and I made some good, good kits…"

(Mosspounce: 52, male, caretaker, adventurous, talented fire-starter)

(Trumpetspore: 52, female, warrior, nervous, makes the best pottery, good storyteller)

(Weevilsight: 26, female, cleric, daring, deep StarClan bond)

(Wolfgaze: 26, female, codekeeper, thoughtful, connection to StarClan, great speaker)

(Ravenweaver: 26, female, artisan, den builder, very clever)

(Washington: 219, male, elder, nervous, good mediator)

Mitespark and Wolverineheart have grown closer over time, relying on one another through the recent chaos. They decide to become mates. Wolverineheart’s littermates celebrate with the pair.

[Image ID: Mitespark speaks with Wolverineheart while Boughfur, Thundergale, and Brightreed stand behind their sister in support. Under Mitespark, it says + MATE: WOLVERINEHEART. Under Wolverineheart, it says + MATE: MITESPARK.]

(Mitespark: 33, female, artisan, charismatic, great mediator)

(Wolverineheart: 23, female, warrior, troublesome, student of science)

(Boughfur: 23, female, historian, righteous, great climber)

(Thundergale: 23, female, teacher, adventurous, great hunter, good speaker)

(Brightreed: 23, female, warrior, righteous, student of art)

Moontide and Cobaltchaser don't move in time to avoid a large fir tree falling right on top of them. A patrol doesn't find them until they've both moved on to StarClan.

[Image ID: Moontide and Cobaltchaser are both StarClan spirits. Moontide says, "We need to see our sisters."]

(Moontide: 26, female, teacher, playful, excellent teacher)

(Cobaltchaser: 21, female, codekeeper, righteous, good cook, prey cleaner)

[nessieart]

The Way Back. X

wc: 8.2k

Summary: These powers were meant to help people. Help The Avengers, your family. It felt like every time you used them, something bad always happened. Maybe someone has the answers, somewhere.

Bucky x reader || Steve x reader (eventually??)

AN: It's a long one! i didn't want to break this one up. and im sorry in advance.

Masterlist

Previously:

Bucky hesitates for another minute until he slowly climbs into the bed. You give him a reassuring look when he pulls the covers back up.

"I'll be awake for a while, so you can get some sleep, OK?" The only light on in the room is your dim side table lamp. Bucky's face is illuminated in a soft glow as he looks at you. "What?" You chuckle nervously.

His eyes bounce between yours before he scoots closer, leaning in to place a soft, lingering kiss on your cheek. He smiles at you and lies down, one arm over your legs as he brings his pillow to your lap. You run your fingers through his short, damp hair, and before you could tell him goodnight, he was limp with sleep, and light snores could be heard from his lips.

The next morning, you're awake before Bucky, which is surprising. You usually love sleeping in or longer than Peggy would like you to.

As if he can sense your eyes on him, Bucky peaks an eye open. He hums, wrapping his arms tighter around you. His voice is rough with sleep. He nuzzles into your hair, inhaling deeply.

"James, I have to be in soon," you speak against his skin, but you make no move to leave his arms or the bed.

"Just a few more minutes," he sighs.

**

You're dressed in record time, just as Peggy knocks on your door.

"Darling," she calls through the door, "are you both decent?"

"Yeah, Peg! Be out in just a minute!" You squeal as Bucky wraps his arms around you and drags you back onto the bed on his lap. "Bucky!" You laugh.

He hums again, "Thank you. For last night. I don't think I've ever slept so good." You twist in his arms, pecking him on the lips and drape your arms over his shoulders.

"Anytime, Sarge. You're safe with me. Remember that." Your fingers drag along the hair at the nape of his neck. Bucky lets out a satisfied sigh. He kisses you then, hands gripping a little tighter to keep you on his lap. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss, and your fingers scrap against the back of his neck. He moans softly, and you swallow it, licking into his mouth.

There's another knock at the door, impatient and fast, "Charlotte!"

You pull away from Bucky. He whines when he can't follow your lips. You're both panting, and you smile at him. As you extract yourself from his arms, you peck him on the cheek, "See you later, Sarge."

**

You and Peggy arrive early - despite your…slow start to the morning. You brought a thermos of coffee for you and Howard. You could almost hear his joyous thanks in your head. Peggy walks beside you as you try to find Steve.

When you round a corner, you see Spinner at a desk, glasses low on his nose as he takes notes from an open book.

"Rupert," you greet. He looks up, wide-eyed at you and Peggy. He pushes his glasses up his nose and swallows hard.

"M-morning, Ms. Charlotte, Agent Carter."

"We're looking for Captain Rogers, Agent Spinner. Have you seen him?" Peggy asks. He nods frantically, finger pointing through the makeshift library.

"He's so skittish, isn't he?" Peggy whispers as the two of you continue on. You laugh. Oh, if she only knew.

After the next set of bookshelves, you see Steve. But he's not alone. And Peggy goes rigid beside you. You could feel her silent anger but also her pain. You're not sure why it bothers you so much, seeing Steve kiss some random girl. It's not like you're with him or anything.

Maybe because you've known him for so long, he never seemed interested in anyone. Not the girls from SHIELD or the barista down the street. Or the ones Natasha tried to set him up with. There's a twinge of jealousy that runs through your veins seeing him like this. Future him being in love with you doesn't make much sense now, with his tongue down some random SSR woman's throat makes you want to throw up.

It hurts.

"I think we found him," you say flatly, just loud enough for the couple to hear you.

Steve all but shoves the woman away. She's a little dazed, but she notices you and Peggy, "I'm sure there's something else for you to be doing, Agent?" Maybe it comes out more harshly than you meant, but no one says anything.

The blonde ducks her head, and she scurries away.

You're starring daggers at Steve. He gulps, face bright red as she looks at Peggy.

"Captain. We're ready for you…if you're not otherwise occupied." Peggy turns abruptly and stalks away. her high heels click loudly as she leaves.

"Agent Carter, wait!" Steve goes to move after her, but you step in his way. "Charlie," he warns deep and low.

"Steven Grant Rogers, you ass," you grit out, you stop his advance with a hand to his chest. He tries to move you. He should be able to throw you across the room easily, but you don't budge. Your face burns the longer he looks down at you.

He places his hand over yours on his chest. Something only Bucky has ever done, his thumb strokes over your knuckles.

"Charlie, please," he pleads softly. You look away from him and pull your hand away. Steve catches up with Peggy quickly, and you follow behind, dragging your feet.

You can hear them as you follow, hand shoved into a pocket, your other squeezing the thermos a little too tight. Seeing Steve kiss someone else shouldn't make you feel the way you do. There's a tightness in your chest, a twinge of anger under the surface. There's a scowl on your face as you all near the end of the hall, big metal doors stand between you and the lab.

"You wanted to be a soldier. Now you are one. Just like all the rest."

Steve's face becomes flustered. He takes Peggy's hand, but she yanks it away. "Well, what about you and Stark? How do I know that you two haven't been…fondueing the whole time? You're staying in his penthouse, ain't ya?" You can tell he regrets it as soon as the words leave his mouth, but he kept going.

"Steven!"

"You still don't understand a bloody thing about women," Peggy turns on her hell and storms back down the corridor.

Steve's shoulders slump, the door opens, and you push past Steve. Howard wraps his arm around your shoulders, "Fondue's just cheese and bread, my friend," Howard steers you further into the lab. "And it sounds like she thinks you've got more going for you than that." Howard releases your shoulders as you pass a motorcycle. You kneel down and pull your toolbox closer.

You work on auto pilot as you listen to Howard and Steve. Howard explains some of the things he's been busy working on.

Gear, weapons, clothes. You peak over the motorcycle to see what they're talking about. The table is filled with shield prototypes. Steve's old shield sits battered and riddled with bullet holes. He runs his hand over it.

Howard continues on, or he tries to explain the intricacies of the shields he's been working on.

"What about this one?" Steve bends to grab something, ignoring Howard completely.

"Uh, well. that's just a pro-"

"What's it made out of?"

"Vibranium," you speak up. "It's stronger than steel and a third of the weight." Steve whirls the shield around. Your chest feels tight again. You haven't seen him hold that in a very long time.

Your tools clang back in the toolbox, the noise echoing in the room. Some people stop and stare at you.

"I'll be back," you mutter as you pass Howard.

"Charlie?"

"It's fine, Howie," you dodge him and head out of the bunker. You just need some air. Everything was closing in, too hot, too fast. Before you could reach the stairs, you stop when someone calls out to you.

"Stark!" Phillips says. You can hear his smirk. "My office." He leads little room for opposition, and you heave a heavy sigh. Hand gripping the railing a little too tight. You groan and follow him.

He closes the door behind you, Spinner is already seated when you enter. He gives you a small wave. Phillips sits at his desk. The two of them wait for you to sit, but you hover by the door.

Frustration and anxiety thrum in your veins, not being able to take the walk you needed to clear your head. Your chest heats up as you feel your powers surge. Your hands alight in a blue flame, and you let out an aggravated scream, throwing your arm back and punching the concrete wall next to you.

Your chest heaves, powers subsiding. The room is heavy with baited breath, silent and thick with tension. The concrete cracks outward from the impact of your fist. Small chunks crumble to the floor as you retract your hand back. There's a fist sized indent in the wall.

You inhale a deep, calming breath, shoulders relaxing. You crack the knuckles on your hand, roll your wrist around, and take a seat next to Spinner. The two men don't move, their eyes wide and unsure.

You cross your leg over the other, "You wanted to see me, sir?" You ask casually, as if nothing happened.

Phillips clears his throat, straightening a little more in his chair. He doesn't make eye contact with you as he shuffles through papers on his desk. Maybe just to keep his hands busy.

You glance at Spinner. He sits ridged in his chair, a sheen of sweat on his brow. Did neither men know you could do that? It brings a smug smile to your face at the thought. Maybe you had more say in this whole mess than you thought.

"I burned them," Rupert mutters out quietly. When you raise an eyebrow at him, he continues, "The negatives as well." He can't meet your eye either. You give him a nod of understanding when he quickly glances up in your direction.

Phillips grunts, opening a file and sliding it towards you. You grab it and bring it closer.

There's instructions on the things you'll need for your mission, weapons, and gear - just in case. The information they hope to extract from the bases they are sending you to.

"Earliest convenience," Phillips grunts out. You smirk at him. He heaves a heavy sigh and rolls his eyes. "alright, dismissed," he waves his hand in the air as you rise from your chair. "And no more punching walls, Agent. Especially not in my office," you laugh as you go to leave.

"No promises, Colonel," you call over your shoulder.

**

Over the course of the next few months, the war continues. Captain America and his Howling Commandos have taken out Hydra base after base.

In the background, you've been going ahead of them and infiltrating the bases for secret files. Any secret that Schmidt thinks he can hide, you've been uncovering and bringing back to the SSR.

Sometimes, after finishing your mission, you'd wait in the shadows just to make sure Steve and Bucky would be alright. And every time you thought to interfere, they would pull through. Bucky was an incredible sniper. You had no doubts they would all be ok.

But still, you always hung back and watched. Just in case.

Christmas and New Years came and went. Celebrating with your found family and friends. You bought Howard a new camera. He couldn't seem to put it down - much to everyone's discomfort.

You and Bucky had become closer, much to Howard's discomfort. He always seemed to grumble about how the two of you were always attached at the hop. Which, to be fair, you were.

A few of the Howlies were loading up a truck, getting ready to move out to the next base location. You had gathered more intel about hidden bunkers and testing facilities on your last mission.

You stand off to the side, eyeing the motorcycle you've spent the last month fine-tuning. "Don't go blowing up my hard work, got it, Cap?" You cross your arms as he peers up at you. An amused smile on his lips. "I mean it!" You all but whine.

Steve laughs and stands tall, hands going to his belt. His default Captain America pose, you tell yourself. His shield is strapped to his back, scorch and bullet marks chip the paint away, but the Vibranium underneath is unharmed.

"Alright, alright," he raises his hands, still chuckling when you give him a look. There's a flash and click of a camera to your right, and you whirl around to Howard.

"Howie! What'd I say about pictures!" You try and scramble after him, but an arm catches you around the waist. The familiar gruff of Bucky's laugh reaches your ears. "James, you let me go before I throttle you!" That just makes him laugh more.

Steve leans back on his bike, arms crossing over his chest. There's a fond smile on his face as you and Bucky bicker back and forth, Howard laughs and still takes pictures.

Peggy sidles up next to Steve, the same fond smile on her face. "They're very good together, don't you think?" She asks softly.

Steve hums, "I'm just glad Charlie brought Bucky back to himself. After what happened…" he trails off, eyes skating down to Peggy, who nods, and then back up to you in Bucky's arms. There's bright smiles tugged on both your faces. Eyes crinkling at the corners. He can see how much Bucky cares for you in that look.

There's a pang that runs through him, but he's so used to it now that he just buries it further down. Deep within himself so no one else can see it.

Peggy stands just close enough to him that her elbow almost touches him. He can feel the heat of her body, smell her sweet perfume. The lingering scent of hotel soap on her skin. If he really concentrates, he can hear her heartbeat. The inhale and exhale of her breathing.

But then he can also hear Bucky, his soft murmuring into your skin, the breathy giggle you let out when he kisses right below your ear.

Steve clears his throat, shifting his stance as he looks away from both of you.

There's another click of the camera, a moment caught in time; forever.

Bucky and you smiling at each other, your hand on his chest, his hand over yours. It looks like you're trying to push him away, but his other arm is wrapped around your waist. Steve and Peggy behind you. She's looking at Steve with a soft expression, and Steve's looking at you.

**

The year goes by fast, and the constant moving of Captain America and the Howling Commandos around Europe leaves you stuck in London with Howard, Peggy, and the rest of the SSR. You get restless while you wait for word from the front, waiting on bated breath for letters from Bucky.

It wouldn't be a problem if they knew about your powers. You could just portal to them, and the anxiety would be over.

The only times you got glimpses of Steve or Bucky is when you wait, hidden in the shadows after one of your reckon missions.

"Will you relax, kid?" Howard says next to you. You grumble under your breath. "They'll be fine. We made all their gear and equipment, right?" He nudges your shoulder with his, pulling a smile from you.

"I know. It's been almost four months since they've been back. I miss them," you whine a little. Howard shifts, resting his hip on the table. He leans on one hand to brace himself up.

"Y'know, I hired that film crew for more than historical documentation," his eyebrows raise when you give him a look. Your lips twitch up, and Howard's smile matches yours. "I know you love him, Y/N," he says quietly. "You should tell him when he comes back."

Howard takes your hand in his and squeezing, "It's complicated, Howie. It's not -"

"-Not that simple," he continues, "yeah, I've heard that before."

You laugh, "Well, at least it's a slow day," you sigh.

"Stark!" Phillips yells from down the hall.

Howard and you groan, "You just had to say it, didn't'cha?"

**

2018, Somewhere in Space

Tony finishes his recording for Pepper. Just in case one day, the ship makes it back to Earth. Someone in the vast, now half empty universe is bound to pick up the distress call. Somehow. He sighs heavily. It hurts to breathe too deep, think too loud. Think about the people he's lost on Titan. Tony's trying desperately not to think about the people he cares about on Earth, hoping they're all ok.

"Come on, old man, you need to rest," Nebula grunts. She tries to haul Tony up, but he just waves her off with a lift of his fingers. That's all he can muster now.

Tony's too tired - hunger left him a few days ago - too thirsty to function. Maybe he can just rest his eyes for a minute. It takes too much energy to keep them open.

Just for a minute.

He's really fine. Don't worry about it.

Totally… a-ok.

It's fine.

There's a bright, warm light that reaches Tony's closed lids. It's familiar. Almost like the sun. His eyes blink open, squinting at the brightness. It's blinding and beautiful.

Through the spaces between his fingers, he sees it, a gasp leaves his dried and cracked lips.

"…Y/N?…"

**

Tony is surprised to see Steve, something like relief flooding through his veins, he sags as Steve holds him up. His breathing is shallow but heavy. Being back on Earth and actually breathing oxygen and not sparingly through filters makes his head dizzy.

Steve held out hope to see you come down the gangway of the spaceship behind Tony and Rocket's blue friend. He keeps looking over his shoulder as he helps keep Tony upright.

But, if you were in there, you would have portalled everyone back to Earth. Unless you were seriously injured. Or…

No, he won't think like that. Not until he hears otherwise.

"Hang on," Tony heaves out, "Wait. I-I lost the kid. I-"

"Tony, we lost," Steve's brows furrow. Lost everything, the fight, their friends. Bucky.

Tony can't hold back the tears now. His breathing is hoarse as he tries to keep in a sob. "She's gone -" he chokes out, "She- Y/N sacrificed herself - and for what? I couldn't - She -" Pepper runs up then. The tears break and stream down his face, and he and Pepper embrace. "She's gone," Tony keeps repeating.

Steve thinks he's not breathing. Maybe he hasn't been since Thanos 3 weeks ago. Maybe he died, and this is his nightmare, his Hell. Cursed to be in a world without you in it.

**

1944, 13 days before Christmas Eve.

It seems you'll never get that damn motorcycle back from Steve, so you've been tinkering with a new one. Using the last of the Tesseract infused bullets Howard had locked away. No one was here this late anyway.

You can feel the pulse of the tiny core in your pocket, the thin glass jar does little to protect it from you.

The bike is suspended above you. You're on a floor roller, the engine open, and parts scattered around you. You're sure it'll work just fine. Fore you, anyway. The tiny blue bead drops into your hand, and it pulses along with the beat of your heart. Carefully, you place it in the chamber in the engine you made. It whirs silently, then hums low. you pull your away slowly, waiting on bated breath for something to happen.

When all seems ok, you put the engine back together. All the parts going back where they started. The fuel tank is empty , you point a finger inside, powers surging through your hand and out your finger and into the tank.

You squint through the tinted goggles on your face, careful not to put too much force behind your powers. Just enough to jump-start the motorbike. You stop after a moment, exhaling a deep breath as your powers subside. You place the cap back on the fuel tank. The bike hums softly.

When you place your hand on the throttle, you ease it slowly. Twisting ever-so-slightly. It turns, the engine humming to life. It doesn't sound like a normal motorcycle, but that's what you were aiming for. Probably.

You let out a triumphant laugh. You did it. Everything seems stable. Small puffs of blue mist come from the exhaust. Residual energy from your powers, you assume.

Howard finds you like that in the morning, elbow deep in another project. You're humming a song you forgot the name of long ago, your foot taps absentmindedly out the beat.

"Nope," you pop the P. "Can't. They'll be back soon."

"Have you even gone to bed?" Howard leans his back next to you. Hands stuffed into his pant pockets.

"Y/N," he chides quietly. "You should get some sleep."

"You're one to talk," you grumble. "Ow!" You nick your finger on something sharp you can't see.

"Here," Howard takes your hand and examines it, his calloused fingers rubbing over your palm, straightening out your fingers. "Eh, doesn't look too bad, kid." He squeezes your hand between his. "Please get some rest. For me," he pleads. He gives you his best puppy eyes. Eyebrows puckered in the middle, there's a pout to his lips.

Your eyes drift to the cough in the far corner. There's a warm wool blanket draped over the back. You feel your shoulders sag just looking at it.

You're roused from sleep slowly, a dip in the sofa by your hip, a soft brush of fingers over your hair. A rumble of a voice calling to you.

"I'll wake you in a few house. Tops," Howard says. You him in annoyance and drag your feet over to the couch and plop down. "That's my girl," he calls from across the room. You just lift your hand in the air in response.

"Charlotte," it rumbles again, the hand runs down your back, rubbing soothing circles. You stir slightly, a grumble leaving your lips.

"5 minutes," you sigh.

"Charlie, get your ass off my couch!" Howard yells. You grunt in response. There's a familiar laugh next to you. Your heart skips a beat, leaping up into your throat.

You twist on the couch, the blanket wrapped around your legs as you try to sit up. You grin wide as your eyes land on Bucky.

"You're back!" You throw yourself at him, arms going around his neck as his wrap around you. "I missed you so mcuh, James," you mumble into his neck. It feels like you can breathe again for the first time in a while.

Bucky squeezes you tighter, "Hi, sweetheart," he says softly, his lips ghosting over your cheek.

"I thought you weren't getting in until tomorrow?" You don't want to let him go, you want to latch on to him and never let go. Your eyes shoot open, and you pull away from Bucky, eyes critical as they sweep over his features.

"How long was I asleep? Is it tomorrow?" Your head whips to look at Howard. He's smirking. "Howie!"

"You needed the sleep," he shrugs. You scrub a hand down your ace.

"I need coffee," you go to get off the couch, but Bucky pulls you into another hug. You laugh and pull away just enough to put your hands on his face. He smiles down at you, and you peck quick kisses on the spots you can reach. Bucky laughs in return, eyes squeezing shut when your lips pass over his lids.

"Are we goin' out tonight?" You ask, just loud enough for Howard to hear too.

"Anything you want, sweetheart," Bucky grins.

Howard groans, "As long as you're outta my lab. You two make me wanna stuff cotton in my ears. We'll go out, sure, but I need help with a few things first." You agree, telling Bucky you'll see him later, he leaves with a kiss to your forehead, and Howard rolls his eyes.

**

"I'm going back to the hotel to clean up. You should do the same," you call out as you leave the lab.

You stepped out of the shower feeling rejuvenated. Sleeping on a stuff couch for a few hours and working nonstop for almost a full day wore you out more than you cared to admit. You push the door open to the common room, expecting to see Bucky waiting, but that's not Bucky.

"Yeah, yeah," Howard's muffled voice responds.

"St-Steve?" Your face heats up the longer you two stare at each other. You see him visibly gulp, you pull your bathrobe tighter around your body.

"Ch-Charlie…" Red creeps up his chest and neck, taking over his face and ears.

You're standing in the middle of the room in nothing but a small bathrobe, water dripping off your hair, and your skin is still flushed from the hot shower. You might be getting lightheaded.

"where….?"

"The front desk," Steve says louder than he means to, he turns on his heel to face away from you. Back rigid and hands clenched tight at his sides. You nod, thought he can't see you.

"It's good to see you, Charlie," he says quieter. He turns his head slightly, eyes barely peaking back at you over his shoulder.

Your heart rate kicks up a beat, and you clutch the bathrobe tighter, making sure it's tied around your waist. The room is quiet. You know he can hear your heart from across the room. You shift on your feet, face heating up again. Steve's head tilts more so he can see you better out the corner of his eye.

"I-" the suite door rattles, and you squeak, shuffling back into your room. The door closes just as the main suite door opens. You can hear Bucky greet Steve and vise versa.

You heave a sigh, willing your heart to calm. You quickly dress, towel drying most of your hair, you'll deal with it later, and just braid it to the side. You emerge from your room 10 minutes later, Bucky and Steve sit on the couch together. Each on opposite ends, leaving the space between them open.

Steve has a full glass of dark liquor in his hand, Bucky's is nearly empty.

"Boys," you greet them. This time you wear a pinstripe suit. Black turtleneck and high heels. The pants are waste high, and the legs are wide. The belt around your waist is blue to match the gem in your bracelet and the one in your chest. You toss the pinstripe jacket over your shoulder, cocking your hip out as their eyes drift to you.

Bucky whistles low, "Damn, sweetheart," he gulps down the rest of his drink and pats the seat in the middle of the couch. "You always know how to out dress everyone." He crosses his leg over the other, ankle resting casually on his knee. He drapes an arm over the back of the couch as he eyes you.

Steve sits with his legs spread wide, an arm draped over the back of the couch, too. His fingers almost graze against Bucky's. His stare is heated, a smirk pulls at one side of his face, and he brings his glass to his lips. "Good to see you, Charlie," he greets you again.

You swallow and make your way over to the couch, "Hi, Steve," you toss your jacket onto the love seat before you go to sit.

Bucky jumps up before you can sit, claiming he has to get you a drink. You shake your head at him as he crosses the room to the car cart. You can feel the heat of Steve's body at your back as he silently stands behind you. He leans in close, a hand on your waist and his other holding his drink in front of you.

"Charlie can have mine, Buck," he rumbles. His voice vibrates through you with how close his chest is to your back. "Here," he says in your ear. Your fingers shake as you go to take the glass from him, his fingers skim down your arm as you grip the cool glass in your hand.

"Aren't ya thirsty, sweetheart?" Bucky asks. He's suddenly in front of you. The heat of the two of them around you is overwhelming. Steve's fingers on your hip grip you tighter as Bucky tips your glass to your lips.

You keep eye contact with him as you gulp a mouthful of whiskey down. Somehow, the burn of the liquor isn't nearly as bad as the two of them surrounding you make you feel.

"Better?" he asks. You nod slowly. The air is thick between you, your head a little fuzzy with Bucky and Steve so close. Bucky tips the glass to your lips again, and you take a slow pull this time.

When you swallow, you feel Steve's lips close to your ear. "Words, doll," he says. Bucky's eyes flick to his then back to you, "Finish her drink, Buck." Bucky does without hesitation, gulping down the last few mouthfuls of whiskey as if it were water.

"Yes," you whisper out. Steve's hand wipes the whiskey drops from Bucky's lip, then dip in his mouth. Bucky's tongue laps at Steve's thumb. And you think out might pass out. You whimper without meaning for the sound to leave your throat. Both men chuckle.

"Think she forgot we're such good friends, Stevie?"

"Steve?" "Stevie?"

Steve shakes his head, eyes refocusing in the room. "What?" You were standing near the far end of the couch with Bucky. You both give him a concerned look.

Steve clears his throat. He feels his face heat up, "Sorry, must have zoned out. What were you sayin'?"

"Said we're ready to go, punk. C'mon," Bucky throws an arm around your shoulders and starts to steer you towards the exit.

Steve lets out a big shuddering breath, still trying to get the image of you between him and Bucky out of his mind before he stands and catches up with you both.

**

"Ms. Charlotte?" You hear Rupert call from the lab entrance. "Are you in here?"

"Be right there, Rupert," you call. You finish your thoughts in your journal and stash it away in Howard's desk drawer. You grab your gear before you leave, "Ok, Rue, lead the way."

To say you were a little excited to finally be going on a mission with your friends was an understatement. You were over the moon.

You see Howard standing near where people are packing up one of the convoy trucks. He's waving his arms about, yelling about what crate goes where.

"Howie," you chide, he stops his arm waving to wrap one around your shoulder.s "Leave them be. They know what they're doing." Howard grunts but relents and steers you towards Steve, Bucky, and the Howlies.

"I don't know how I feel about you actually going through with this. Skulking around in the shadows is one thing. But this…" Howard mumbles to you.

"Everything's gonna be fine, Howie. They're finally gonna see what I can do." You smile at him, and he tries to return it. He knows how much this means to you. But it doesn't mean he has to like it.

"I like the suit you made for me," you tack on, Howard gives you a smirk and chuckles.

"Ok, kid, you're welcome."

"Here, wait," you tug him to a stop and take his camera from him. You hold the camera high in the air, wrap your arm around Howard's waist.

"What are you doin'?" he huffs. He tries to take it back from you, and as he's distracted, you kiss his cheek, snapping the photo as he protests. You laugh and hand it back to him.

Before you leave, you make sure to give Howard a hug, the smile never leaving your face. "Love you, Howie. I'll be back before you know it!"

Howard hums, his arms squeeze you a little tighter, "Yeah, yeah. You better go before they leave without you. And then I'd never hear the end of it," he smirks.

As he watches you board the back of the convoy truck, he raises his hand as you wave before the canvas closes and blocks you from view.

"Love you too, kid."

**

You were 5 miles from the next Hydra base, or so the map and intel had given you.

"We'll split in 2 groups," Steve started, running his fingers over the map. "Group A heads north of the complex, set the charges and fall back. Radio in when you're far enough away. Meet at the rendezvous here," he passes his fingers over another spot on the map and taps it.

"Group B, you're with me. We set charges on the south side, get in, and grab the things we need. Take out any hostile force we see.

"We'll have sniper cover as long as Buck can see us." Steve nods to Bucky, who nods in return.

"We've done this plenty of times before. A quick in, out, destroy. Let's show these Nazi bastard's what we're made of."

There's thunderous cheers as the Howlies break the huddle. They disperse and gather their equipment.

"Charlie, you sta -" Steve starts.

"Cap, if you tell me to stay here, I'll shoot you in the foot. I'm going with you."

Steve purses his lips, hands on his hips. He shakes his head, trying to disagree with you.

"You're not gonna win that one, pal," Bucky speaks up. You flash him a grin, and Steve sighs.

"You'd think you'd know me by now, Tough Guy," you playfully punch his arm.

**

You're about to split into your groups, just as dusk falls. Bucky gets up on a rock, taking the vantage point he needs to see the complex from. His rifle is already set up.

"Starkling, we're headed out," Dugan calls to you.

"Comin'!" You turn to Bucky. He looks up at you from his seated position. You step into Bucky's space, standing between his legs.

"Somethin' I can help you with, sweetheart?" Bucky smirks up at you, a hand skating up your leg to rest on your hip.

You run your fingers over his cheek, "I love you, James." It flows easily from your lips. You're not sure why you waited so long to say it. But now that you have, you don't want to stop. "I love you," you smile at him. You can feel the heat rise to his face under your hand.

Bucky's lips part, eyebrows pucker in the middle, and his eyes gloss over with tears. He's up in a flash, lifting you up as he rises to his feet. A laugh bubbles up from your chest. He kisses you then, sweetly. He's grinning wide against your lips.

"Charlotte Stark, I love you." He says against your lips. The smile on your face falters slightly. You're happy he said it, but a small part of you wishes he said your real name instead.

You take your bracelet off and place it in his hand, "Here, keep it." You peck him on the lips as you go to pull away. He stops you, pulling your hand back onto his chest.

"You mean the world to me, sweetheart. I hope you know that."

You smile up at him, "I know, James." When he lets your hand go, you step away and go to catch up with your group down the hillside.

**

"Charges set, Cap," you tell him. He nods and leads your group to the side entrance of the complex. There are far fewer Hydra soldiers guarding this facility than the others you've all encountered.

Steve tilts his head, eyebrows low under his helmet. He holds a hand up to tell your group to stop. Something doesn't feel right.

"Head back to the rendezvous point," Steve says low enough for everyone to hear. They nod and slink away. "You too, Charlie."

"Not gonna happen, Cap. Can't leave my partner alone on this one," You tap his shield, and he huffs but nods at you.

After silently making your way through the compound, you and Steve come upon a room filled with heavy weapons; machine guns, body armor, and grenade launchers. Some form of hand help canons.

"We found it," Steve breaths, a smile tugging his lips. He looks at you.

"Something doesn't feel right," you glance around. It's too quiet. "Where are all the guards?"

"We get what we came for and blow it all to hell. Let's go," Steve draws out his shield, securing it tightly on his arm as he leads you through a long corridor with a few closed doors.

"Check the rooms on the left, meet back here in 5," Steve waves a hand, and you both split up.

You find what you're looking for in the second room. Filing cabinets filled with the heavy weapons schematics Phillips and Spinner wanted. Right where Spinner said they would be.

Your fingers graze the files, and stop. You get that feeling again, a tug in your chest. The hair on the back of your neck stands on end.

As you enter the hallway, Steve is also standing there. He looks back at you with his typical Captain America look. Mouth in a grim line as he makes eye contact with you.

The lights go out.

"Cap…" you hedge closer, the urge to use your powers flare up your spine. You swallow it down.

"Let's go," he commands. All thought of getting any more intel from this facility goes out the window as you two jog towards the exit.

As you enter the main room with the weapons, a single light turns on overhead.

"Not so fast, Captain," the man says. He holds up one of the weapons from a crate. It's large. It looks like a rail gun attached to a backpack that glows an eerie blue.

This weapon is different from the others. Powered by the Tesseract, yes, but also something else. You can hear the weapon power up. The quiet hum and whirring echoed around the room.

The man steps forward, his face illuminated by the overhead light.

"Rupert?" Your stunned surprise makes him laugh. It crawls down your spin and sits in your stomach like a rock. You feel sick.

Steve angles his body in front of yours, shield raised high and defensive.

"What do you want?" Steve sticks his arm out in front of you to coral you backward, the both of you step backward together, inching toward the exit.

Rupert follows, his laugh echoes around the room as the rail gun in his arms starts charging.

"Oh, dear Captain…" his glasses flash in the light, and the grin on his face is anything but friendly. "It was never about you." His eyes catch yours, and your heart sinks. "Does your precious Captain know what you can do, love? Does that boyfriend of yours?" He spits. He cackles again, the rail gun in his hands whirs. He lifts it and fires a spray of bright blue bullets across the room.

Steve covers you with his body, shield up, protecting the both of you from harm. "Once it stops firing, make a run for the door," Steve says in your ear. You nod. After a few beats, the bullets finally stop, and the rail gun whirs and slowly stops.

Heavy laughter pierces the air, and you and Steve peak over the shield to see Spinner reloading.

"Run, Charlie," Steve pushes you toward the exit. He follows close behind you, shield coming in front of you to charge through the door.

Bullets rain again as you burst through the doors. They cut easily through the metal and concrete. Piercing through it like paper. You've never been more thankful for Steve's vibranium shield.

"This isn't where we're supposed to meet," you huff. "He forced us away from the others. Bucky," your eyes are wide and fearful.

"It's ok, we'll be fine. C'mon," Steve grabs your hand, and you both try to outrun the spray of bullets.

"If we make it to the rendezvous, we can blow the building. We're almost there, Charlie." The next rain of bullets stop, you tug your hand from Steve's and slump against the wall, heavy huffs of breath in the cold night air.

Steve kneels down next to you, catching his breath for a moment. When he catches your eye, you both nod and start to run again.

"There!" You point as you round the corner. You can see the Howlies at the treeline. On the other side of the iron rot fence.

You hear it before it lands, and earth shattering blast, then a bright blue light lands on the ground separating you and Steve. A giant crater from one of the canons, you assume. You're both knocked far apart, skidding and tumbling on the ground.

"Run all you want," Spinner calls from the roof, there's other men up there with him. Holding the majority of the heavy weapons. "But these bullets were made for you," he taunts again.

There's heavy bullet fire, this time aimed at Steve. He dodges and blocks the hail and runs for cover. The Hydra men keep suppressing fire on Steve and the Howlies. Keeping them away from you.

Spinner climbs down the ladder on the side of the building. He adjusts the rail gun at his side. It clinks with every step he takes.

"Why are you doing this?" You scramble backward as he advances. "Why work for Hydra?"

He laughs, the rail gun whirs to life, heating up as the Tesseract charged ammo glows menacingly. "For the future of humanity, love. And you won't be part of it. To see Hydra's rise to glory."

You glare up at him, your powers flare in your chest, "I'm from the future, you fucking asshole. News flash! You - Hydra, the Nazis - you all lose!" Your hands burst into blue flame and you jump to your feet and lunge towards Spinner.

The rail gun lets out a whine. It fires as he tries to back track away from you. A few bullets wiz past you, the heat of them leaving marks on your exposed skin.

Your fist lands and hits Spinner in his chest. He goes flying back until he hits the wall, hard, crumbling to the ground in a heap. The rail gun whines louder now as you approach. The suppressing fire from the roof slows. You can hear Steve shout for you, but you ignore him.

You're standing over Rupert now, your chest heaves with anger and frustration, your arms fully engulfed in blue flames. "You were my friend," you grit out. Tears of frustration threaten to fill your eyes and spill over. He laughs, blood pouring from a wound on his head, down his forehead. He coughs up blood as he looks up at you, glasses cracked and hanging off his face.

He holds a shaky hand up, your eyes zero in on his finger, and a pull pin dangles from it. Your wide eyes catch his for a second, blood seeping down into his eyes.

"Hail…Hydra," he rasps, his palm opens and out rolls another Tesseract fueled weapon in the form of a grenade.

Your heart plummets to your stomach, and your head whips to Steve, who's running to you with his shield raised to block the remaining gunfire. He catches your eyes.

Time seems to slow as you hold your hand up to stop him. The immediate panic on his features breaks your heart. You open a portal to stop the blast wave of the grenade. Being this close to the complex, if Spinner's grenade explodes, so will the charges your team set. And they are too close to the blase radius. They'll be caught in it, too.

The portal opens and swallows both you and Spinner. There's no end destination in your mind, just far enough away from your friends that they won't be affected.

"Charlie!" Steve shouts. One second, you're in front of him, and the next, a dark cloud engulfs you, and you're gone. Spinner is gone.

The next second, an explosion high in the sky goes off. Blinding blue and illuminating the night sky. It's terrifyingly beautiful.

There's a thud next to him. He jumps in surprise. You're lying there at his feet, scorch marks on your suit, Steve's nose scrunches at the smell. There's puffs of blue smoke coming off your body like steam.

Steve bends down to touch you but retracts his hand. Your skin is like fire. It burns his fingers to touch you.

"Charlie?" his hands hover above you, unsure of how to help.

You gasp for breath, hoarse and rough going in. You can't feel your fingers or toes. It feels fuzzy and static, and you feel weightless and heavy at the same time. It's hard to focus on Steve's face, blood, and tears cloud your vision. You try to smile at him, but you grimace in pain.

"J-just hold on, we'll get you help," Steve looks behind him, at people you can't see. Your fingers brush over his leg, and he jolts. "Charlie…"

"It's…ok…"

Steve tries to scramble towards you, your body slowly dissolving into a foggy dark mist. He's calling for you, but you're already gone. He shouts for Bucky again, his best friend so close, but not close enough. Not in time to call out to you or say he loves you again.

Your eyes flutter closed as the mist takes more of you away. When Bucky skids to a stop next to Steve, falling to his knees, he lets out a broken sound.

"Sweetheart?" Bucky's out of breath. "Charlotte?" His hand comes down to touch you, but it goes through you, your body erupting into a blue mist, and then you're gone.

**

It feels like you're floating. Slowly drifting backward. Maybe landing on the soft grass beneath your feet. Softly, smoothly falling.

There's a streak of blue across the sky. A shooting star illuminated the night sky and plummeting to earth. Hard and fast and unrelenting.

**

Howard bends over, gasping for breath as he clutches his at his chest. It hurts. God, it hurts so much. Is he having a heart attack? He can't breathe. His eyes brim with tears, and they spill over hot down his cheeks. Why is he crying? He gasps again, and the air in his lungs feels like it's burning him from the inside.

"Howard! What's wrong?" Peggy holds him by the arm, trying to get him to sit down. He shakes his head as he stares wide eyed at her.

"I- I don't know," he breathed in deep. The pain is gone, but he has a sinking feeling in his gut that it's only just beginning.

**

"Have you even made new friends in the city?" Green eyes glance sideways towards Steve, a perfect eyebrow raised in question.

Steve huffs, "Who needs friends when I got you, Nat?"

"Smart ass," she chuckles. They sit in companionable silence for a while. It's not often Steve comes out to visit Natasha at the compound. It stirs up bad memories of life before the snap.

"Oh, look," Nat points to the sky, a bright blue light streaks across the sky. It's traveling fast, too fast, he thinks, for a shooting star. A meteor burning up in the Earth's atmosphere. But it seems almost familiar.

"Think it's Carol?" he asks absentmindedly. Natasha hums.

"I talked to her a few days ago. She never mentioned coming back Earth side so soon…" Nat stands, bare feet padding through the grass. Her eyes squint, trying to focus more.

The streak looks like it's picking up speed, it turns midair, changing directions towards the compound.

Steve stands on alert, "It's coming this way," he warns. He grabs Nat by her bicep, pulling her along and far away from the falling star, plummeting towards them.

It's silent in its decent. The only noise to be heard is when it smashes into the ground. The impact of creating a giant 30-foot crater in the ground.

The bright blue light shines in the darkness. Like a small sun, Steve and Nat have to squint and block their eyes as they come closer, peering into the crater.

It hums, pulsing like a heartbeat as they approach cautiously. The light dims as they near.

"What the hell," Nat breaths out. In the center of the crater lies a person. Huddles in a tight ball, arms wrapped around legs. The figure is floating, suspended in the air a few meters above the ground. Hair billowing out in wisps.

It uncurls its body slowly, Steve steps in front of Natasha, arm blocking her advance. Slowly unfolding limbs stretch out, toes flex before they touch the dirt beneath them. The ground pulses at the contact. The light fades and sucks back inward to the figure as it inhales a deep, gasping breath. Chest heaving then relaxing. Another pulse through the ground and then the air around them returns to normal. One foot steps forward, then knees give out, and the figure crumbles to the ground in a heap.

The glow is gone now. The only light left is in the center of its chest. She, from what Nat and Steve could tell. A woman. She rolls over, a soft groan leaving her lips.

Natasha gasps, hand flying to her mouth, "Oh my God," she rushes forward, falling to her knees by the unconscious body. "Steve, your flannel," Nat snaps him out of his thoughts. He shrugs his shirt off and hands it to Natasha.

The woman is naked, hair matted and dirty. It looks like she's been rolling in mud. It's caked on her skin in layers.

"How?" Steve croaks. He swallows around a lump in his throat. He falls to his knees next to Nat. She has tears in her eyes when she looks up at Steve. There's a look on her face that he hasn't seen in years.

"I don't know. But we have to get her inside. Call Bruce and Tony," she smooths hair back from a dirt covered face. "Hang on, Y/N. Help is coming."

tags: @valckenaux

**

[soteria-sys]

Can't stop thinking about choosing the right fruits. It would, take trail and error to choose those that, teaste exactly like me, right?

I can feel myself getting excited, hearing Her car in the driveway. It's been a few years, and now I'm allowed a full access to the basement, rather just my cage. But I still choose to sleep in it when She's not home

Doors open, light enters the dark room. Her sweet voice calling me upstairs, to the living room. I know better by now, not to try to jump at Her from excitement, as She snaps her fingers at me, into Position 3rd, Waiting, next to the couch. Back to the couch, on my knees, with my hands resting on them, my back forming a nice arch for Her, with my head within Her hand-reach

I could see that, coffee table is covered in different kinds off fruits. The table itself is covered in extra edition of an, old newspaper, that had my missing person poster on it. She used to read me the article about the investigation and my... "family", speaking to the press, before bed. But, by now I've learned it by heart. She sometimes made me recite it, making sure I'll regret making any mistakes afterwards.

I knew what it all meant. She's been open about Her plans. And...and I've finally reached, its final stages. Hearing her excited voice, describe to me different fruits she was trying, letting me try some of the closer ones and, speak my opinion on them. Her hands, moving across my body. I could always feel just how, hungry Her touch was. But today, it was different. Because...because today was different.

I couldn't help myself but to, shed a few tears, with my head in Her lap. I didn't want to go. I wanted to, stay longer with Her. It's been, just eight years. But Her words got these silly ideas out of my head. It wasn't my decision to make, that's for one. For the second. That's why, we just spent all afternoon trying out different fruits. So I can...I can keep on, being in Her life. So She can, still teaste me. I was so happy to bleed more for Her. My body was, already decorated in, all these beautiful gifts She gave me. I was really happy to have gotten more. After all...She. She needed to make sure, to really compare the teastes. right?...

Later in the night, She finally settled on Mutsu apple. She said it, reminded Her of how fresh I still feel. Just how refreshing my presence was. How my cold skin felt on Her tongue. How that, greet, contrasted with my brown eyes, and how much She liked it.

I was allowed to, sleep in Her bed this night. I was, still a bit shaky, but I've stopped protesting at least, few years ago. It was, going to happen, what She said is going to happen. Laying down in Her arms, with my head on Her chest, listening to Her calm breath, listening to Her heartbeat. I couldn't help it but. Smile to myself happy. How, lucky I was, that She choose me, of all people. How lucky I was, to be changed by Her. Drifting to sleep, I was, excited about tomorrow. I know that excitement in Her voice pretty well. And I couldn't. Wait to hear it tomorrow.

I couldn't wait, to server Her again. It was, but my Purpose. I'll never repay Her, for the kindness She has shown me, in changing me. By showing me love. My body was, full of scars, bruises. Proofs of, just how much She cares. Her hands, grabbing tighter onto me, through Her sleep, making me hiss as She squeezed on, one of my fresh bruises. I couldn't really help but smile. Because...

I wouldn't want it, any other way. But the way, She choose for me -Page

[allastoredeer]

Me : well maybe it's not that bad?

Me : looking for radioapple art and immediately get hit with big buff Alastor and tiny shorter than in canon Lucifer, Lucifer in a dress getting fucked by Alastor, Lucifer in a dress getting fucked by big buff Alastor, Lucifer who look like 5 yo and 'suave sugar daddy' Alastor who holds him and each with thousands of likes and absolutely zero of anything else than that

Me : nope 🙃😔

Save me Vox/Al artists, save me

Man, I love Vox/Alastor art so much.

I just love the Vox/Alastor ship as a whole, be it one-sided, mutual, or anything in between, and a lot of it stems from Alastor still feeling like he's Alastor.

I mean, I think people make Alastor a little more cruel and heartless towards Vox sometimes, but overall he still feels like himself. He gets to be dangerous and manipulative and he gets to be silly and whimsical. It's perfect.

Adding a cut right here because this post got WAY longer than I anticipated ⬇️

I think with RadioApple, when it comes to Alastor, people lean too much into this:

And not enough into this:

It feels like his fun, sassy, and whimsical side gets stripped away and he's turned into a stereotypically tall, dark and menacing love interest.

Where's his flamboyancy? His razzamatazz! As Susan would say, "Where's the showmanship? Where's the pizzaz? Fucking mediocre."

If I'm reading a fic or looking at art and I can't imagine their Alastor doing one of his girly-pop wrist flicks -

- then I can't keep going. His girly-pop vibes are too important to me.

Of course, when it comes to tone in both fics and art, sometimes fun and whimsical aren't what the artist is going for. But even outside of NSFW art and stories, so often Alastor just feels...bland. He feels too stiff. Too much like a suave, old fashioned, smooth talking gentleman, and not enough like a fun, silly, and sassy little freak who loves trolling people.

And with Lucifer if feels like they lean too much into this:

And not enough of this:

I feel like any, if not all, of Lucifer's flaws are brushed aside so often and so easily.

He feels softened and watered down. Like he's either a sad & awkward UwU boi all the time, or he's the most flamboyant, seductive little minx there is. And to be fair, he is both a very sad boi and a seductive little minx.

But rarely does he ever come across as powerful to me. A lot of the time he feels too normal. Or too sad and naive. Literally, like he could be any other sinner if I didn't already know he was the kind of Hell. And that's so funny to me because we've seen him openly and extravagantly display his powers multiple times in the show--not to the extent that he did in the finale--but he was definitely flaunting all the things he could do, make, or summon for Charlie during his musical-battle with Alastor. He was 100% showing off how powerful he is.

Not only that, but, honestly, Lucifer feels too open and sincere because that man is judgmental as fuck.

Going back to the "Dad Beat Dad" episode, there are multiple examples of him being a self-righteous little shit: 1) he was incredibly critical of Charlie's hotel the moment he stepped inside, even if he tried, and failed, to cover it, 2) he didn't even try to hide his disgust for Alastor's bar, which he didn't even know was incorporated by Alastor (who he hadn't even met him yet) and could've been incorporated by Charlie or Vaggie, for all he knew, 3) he wasn't taking Charlie's hotel or her plan for redemption seriously from the start, he didn't even have his mind open to the possibility, he wasn't there to hear about her plans he was only there to see her, and 3) when the hotel was attacked by the loan sharks, instead of making them go away or preventing the hotel from being damaged - which he could have very easily done with no amount of effort - he hung back and smugly reiterated that he was right and sinners can't be redeemed and Charlie should just give up on her goals/dreams because it's just not possible so there's no point in trying.

Like, Charlie was very clearly in distress over her hotel being attacked and destroyed, but he was too busy boasting about how he'd been "proven" right to see that.

He's very easy to anger and his ego is so easily bruised. Alastor got under his skin immediately and effortlessly - though I also believe that's on part that Lucifer doesn't have a high opinions of sinners anyway - and Lucifer 100% escalated the conversation/argument he had with Alastor during their first meeting.

See the whole scene of him referring to Alastor as a "has-been" and insulting the name he'd given the hotel, especially when you take into consideration that until Alastor said that he named the hotel, Lucifer thought it was Charlie who came up with it.

And I'm not going to say that Alastor was an innocent, picked on little baby in that scene, he was 100% riling up Lucifer from the start, but also, like...Alastor's lines weren't outright antagonist like Lucifer's were. They were more subtle, slightly needling and passive aggressive, but nothing that could really be taken as a insult.

This is literally the dialogue, word for word, of their very first interaction:

Lucifer: What in the unholy Hell is that?!

Alastor: Just some of the renovations we had done. Adds a bit if color, don't you think?

Lucifer: And you are?

Alastor: Alastor, pleasure to be meeting you, Sir, quite a pleasure. It's nice to finally put a face to the name. You are much shorter in real life.

Lucifer: Who is this? Who is this now - are you the bellhop?

Alastor: Ah-ha, no! I am the host of the hotel. You might've heard of me from my radio broadcast.

Lucifer: Hmm, nope! I guess that's why Charlie called it the "has-been" hotel, hahaha!"

Alastor: Ha ha ha, it was actually my idea.

Lucifer: Ha ha, well it's not very clever.

Alastor: Ha ha, fuck you.

Like. That's their first interaction. And if you go back and actually pay attention to facial expressions and body languages, this was the first time he's seen Alastor, and Lucifer was immediately disdainful.

I went back and screenshotted Lucifer's face, right after Alastor's first line (which was a relatively innocent in and of itself and didn't even sound that antagonist), and:

That's a lot of disesteem for someone he literally just met. At most, you could argue that it was Alastor's smirk or tone that set him off ⬇️:

But even that is such a small thing to get upset over.

I'd say the only time Alastor really started getting openly hostile towards Lucifer was when he wiped his hand after shaking Lucifer's cane (which Lucifer didn't even see as he was too busy fixing his hat) and commenting on Lucifer's height (as a shortie myself, can confirm, that'll get on the nerves very fast).

My point is, Lucifer was immediately unfriendly towards Alastor and escalated the situation just as quickly, if not quicker, than Alastor did. Alastor implied that Lucifer might know of his radio broadcast, and Lucifer jumped right to calling him a "has-been." He doesn't even know him. This is their very first meeting. He was judgy and dismissive of Alastor at first sight, and, let's be honest, he kind of threw the first punch with that "has-been" line. Alastor said Lucifer was shorter than expected, but it's not like he laughed, pointed at him and called him a undercooked little chicken nugget. I'm sure a lot of demons/sinners who've never seen Lucifer would also assume he would be taller and more menacing at first glance, and I doubt this is the first time someone was surprised with his height (still not cool, Alastor. We vertically challenged folk have feelings too).

But Lucifer was prejudice from the start and antagonized Alastor just as quickly, and way more openly, than Alastor did to him. And don't get me wrong, this isn't me saying that's a bad thing on Lucifer's part! This isn't me criticizing or scorning him for it. I think it speaks so much of him as a character!

Cause we've seen the soft and tender moments he has with Charlie. We know how much he loves and cares for her. But he's also egotistical, antagonistic, and judgmental as hell, and that's what makes him such a fun character to write about. He's awkward yet showy, smug yet caring, depressed yet prideful. And by god, this man will show off his power without hesitation. He knows he's hot shit. He knows he's the strongest person in all of Hell. He knows he's the top dog and he can do whatever he wants - even if he has no love or interest in interacting within the Pride Ring (as far as we've been shown).

He's got a lot of multi-facets to him and I adore it, and that's why I get so annoyed when all of that is stripped away and he's turned into this soft little sunshine UwU boi who's just a sad, sweet lil lamb who's done no wrong.

No! He has done many wrongs! There's a reason he and Charlie were estranged and I don't think it was Lilith's fault - or, at least, I don't think it was all her fault (I have many thoughts about Lucifer and Lilith's divorce, okay)

I didn't mean for this to turn into a full-blown character analysist post LOL but alas I tend to get carried away. This was all to say, I really enjoy RadioStatic because Alastor typically gets to keep his sadistic and whimsical side, and I appreciate that. His silliness means a lot a to me, and if he comes off as too stiff or formal, it takes me out of a story.

Lucifer's flaws and sheer power also mean a lot to me, and I wish there were more fics and fan-art that showed that. If Lucifer reads too much like a normal, every-day person, I lose interest. I like the idea of people getting used to him, and getting comfortable around his presence, only to get a sudden and overwhelming reminder that he is, in fact, an ancient and immortal being with immense power that their brains wouldn't even be able to comprehend.

I have so many headcanons about Lucifer as a fallen angel and how his habits and lifestyle developed over the thousands upon thousands of years he's been in Hell. Habits he's adopted that unconsciously help him duplicate the mannerisms and behavior of sinners and demons, but also those small, indistinct tells that are quick and subtle reminder that he could destroy everyone in Pentagram City with ease if he decided to; and also, those times if you were to look closely and really pay attention, you get the faint, unsettling feeling that there is something very un-human about him. A subtle, unnerving shiver down your spine as your instincts yell at you that this person is not a person at all, he's just passing off as one.

That shit gets me. Give me ancient, eldritch Lucifer and I'll love you forever.

I am sorry Anon, I did not mean for this response to get so big 😅 You gave me a paragraph and I gave you a novel. But yeah, save me RadioStatic artists, save me 🙏 I rarely have to worry about Alastor turning into a big, buff alpha man or a soft little UwU when he's with Vox, and I appreciate that.

Edit: Adding a screenshot of my tags here because apparently I wrote down too many and it cut off the character tags.

[starman-john-tracy]

It Wasn't Too Many Croissants [RP]

@thunderbird-3-best-bird:

Alan keeps whimpering and moaning the entire ride, occasionally broken by rough coughs or dry heaves. He's very much at his limit, slowly crumbling away with every passing minute. By the time they reach the hospital his shirt's covered in tiny crimson droplets. "...J-John... John it hurts... I-I c-can't breathe... I can't breathe..." He looks about five years younger than this morning, weakly grabbing at his throat with big, fat tears still rolling down his cheeks. It's been barely an hour since that first call for painkillers. Alan looks up with wide, scared eyes when John starts lifting him out of the co-pilot seat. A short heart palpation bangs against his fingers where they rest against his neck. "...H-hg..."

"Big breaths, ok Al?" John throws off his seat harness and scrambles to his little brother. "In for three, out for three." He'd suggest longer, to calm the boy, but he's really not sure Alan's capable of it right now. He seems a ghostly white in the harsh, overhead plane lights and the breaths his chest rises and falls with are shallow, each one crackly and uneven.

"I got you." John insists, over the tick and hum of the plane's engines cooling down. He coaxes Alan limply out of his own harness and back into his brother's arms; the kid is almost unresponsive save for the bloodied cheek pressed firmly against John's collarbone. The slight weight of him seems alarmingly fragile and vulnerable. It's nothing like the warm late nights back in Kansas - carrying Alan up to bed after he's drifted off beside him at the telescope - and John feels sick with it.

John takes the plane's steps two at a time, barely even waiting for them to unfold beneath his feet. They're hit with a hot rush of Melbourne air as they step into the bright, chaotic world of the tarmac.

Medics are running their way - pre-warned by Thunderbird Five that the son of Billionaire Ex-astronaut Jeff Tracy is bringing in his scarily ill brother. The ground beneath John's feet feels unstable, the crew's frantic voices mingling with the distant peal of sirens and the whirr of helicopter blades. Every step a blur of urgency, John's sense of time slips away as blue-gloved hands reach for his brother. Fingers find Alan's pulse, take up the slight weight of the IV, bodies and questions crowding in around John like paparazzi. He feels sick.

In amongst it all, John is hotly aware of Alan's head resting against his shoulder, the kid's face terribly bloodied and pale. The weight of responsibility presses down on John, tightening his chest and stealing the air from his lungs. The distance from the plane to Royal Melbourne feels like more than just a physical journey - it’s a race against time, a desperate push to get Alan to the help he needs.

Something illogical in John doesn't want to let him go, just yet.

They're ushered into the private ambulance that's waiting, ready, to take Alan from the airstrip to the hospital. The doors get slammed behind them with chilling finality, and the roar of the airstrip is muffled by the sterile quiet inside. The crew work fast - attaching their own monitors, checking and hanging the IV - but all John can focus on is the quiet rise and fall of his brother's chest and the blood smudged on his favourite old NASA t-shirt.

[gideonisms]

Average person has one major breakdown that makes them rethink their life and change things up. But breakdowns abi is an outlier and should not be counted