#TO BE CLEAR this is referring to children playing dress up not how adults dress up and look extra nice bc we all know barba does that

[icannot3]

"Prom Night"

Peter Maximoff x Reader

Word count: 4.2k (a biggie, sorry)

Warnings/notes: NSFW BELOW THE CUT (just the standard stuff, yk?) P in V penetration. Oral (male receiving). Lots of plot before. Despite the title, both Peter and the reader are adults.

Taglist: @taintandviolent @lilthbunny (comment if you'd like to be added!)

..........

The music is loud, and the atmosphere radiates unadulterated exultation. Like any other traditional party event, bright neon lights illuminate the otherwise dimmed area. The dining hall of the institution looked nothing like it had before. The entire area had been cleared out besides the tables full of delectable treats to snack on in the corner. Students were laughing and dancing to the beat of the music, most very uncoordinated, but that didn't matter. For the first time ever, the young mutants got the chance to feel like normal teenagers. It brought you so much joy to know that it was your idea to have an annual prom at the school, this being the very first and very successful attempt at doing so.

You could see a few students of yours beginning to come out of their shells. Many of them never got the chance to participate in such a social setting. You can tell they felt moderately awkward at the start but slowly allowed themselves to enjoy. This prom was much different than the ones you attended in high school. You always remember them to be boring but customary, hence why everyone still went for the hell of it. Part of you wished you could have had a lively experience like this one, knowing all too well how different you felt in the crowd then, as a secret mutant scared of what others may do if they knew.

But that's all in the past, and truly you could not be happier as chaperone. In the crowd of people, you see bodies being pushed to the side as an undetectable figure zipps past them. You know it's Peter, one, because obviously his powers, and two, because the blur is quickly making its way to the snack bar. Who else would be so desperate to get to them? You giggle at his determined feat. It isn't long before he runs up to you, a plate with a large, overstacked assortment of cake and cookies in hand.

Peter places his free hand on your back, his hand warm against it. "Geez, you look like a supermodel!" Like any school dance, everyone was expected to dress to the nines. All funded by the Professor through the kindness of his very rich heart. The staff is expected to wear nothing short of this, everyone in expensive formal gowns to match the children. Peter's outfit makes him look exceptionally handsome, even though he's already loosened his silver tie sloppily from around his neck. Other than that, his suit is black with a white undershirt that compliments his silver accents. To be real, the color is his trademark. Quite literally, "Quicksilver."

You pull him into a hug he reciprocates as much as he can with only one arm. "Thanks, Quicky. You clean up nicely, too!" Your finger comes below his tie, playfully flicking it upwards to tease him. "You seem like you're already excited for the after party?"

His head jerks back, and Peter lets out a dramatic sigh. "You have no idea how uncomfortable these feel. Sure, women have to wear heels, but I really think that this is the equal evil we should also acknowledge. Plus, you guys get to shamelessly take them off at the dance because everyone understands. Xavier is absolutely insane for wearing this every day." He continues to passionately ramble about the inconvenience, referring to it as "neck prison." You cackle at everything he says because it's Peter. He's naturally always funny. Or perhaps it's your blossoming feelings for him that make you feel this way.

Sometimes, you wonder if Peter is just naturally a touchy person or if there's something more behind his lingering nudges and holds. You certainly entertain it regardless, allowing him to hug and hold you as he pleases. His fingers are delicately playing with the stray hairs against your neck, and it sends a shiver down your spine. He has to know how crazy he drives you.

The timing feels perfect as a slow song comes on through the loud speakers. You silently prayed to whatever DJ God there may be for giving such a great opportunity. You hold his hand in yours, his plate being disregarded elsewhere as you take him to the dancefloor. "You gotta dance with me, I never got to do this with anyone in high school! Please?" Your request accidentally seems more like a demand with your excitement, but he knows you'd never make him do anything he doesn't want. He grins, keeping your hand in his own and wrapping his arm around your waist before swaying to the music.

You're friends. That's all. There's nothing more to it, and there never will be. You conclude that you'd simply have to die with these feelings because certainly they aren't ever going away. It's been years already that you've pined for him. Years that the two of you have been stuck by some imaginary friendship glue. Many of your days are together, you teach gym class with him. When you go on missions, Peter compliments your mutations so well that it's rare you're ever separated. He's what you would call your platonic soul mate.

But that platonic bit feels really out of place when he gives you a look that makes your heart ache. You decide that looking at his eyes that are staring deeply into your own is not helping subside your confidential feelings. Part of you wants to read more into his actions and convince yourself that he feels the same way, but you know that only leads to a shit-ton of misery once you realize that his feelings are still unrequited. So, instead, you rest your forehead against his chest and think about things that don't make you flustered. Like what you're doing tomorrow for training and not how his new cologne for the occasion smells stupidly nice.

The song picks up the beat for the chorus, and either Peter secretly takes dance classes on the low, or he's just naturally this smooth. His hand lifts yours up in the air as he encourages you to twirl. You do, the dress you wear swaying around with your spinning. He brings you back to his chest and then decides to continue to baffle you by dipping you to the floor. You lean back, trusting him fully as he pulls you back up.

By the time the song is over, the two of you are laughing, and you feel as if you can't breathe. "Didn't know you had that in you, Maxipad." The nickname is from an inside joke that you remind him of because it embarrasses him. You used it in hopes that it would make your own pitifully flustered state less noticeable.

"Please, all of those arcades I played Dance Evolution at growing up had me ready." He made his way back to his snack stash, grabbing a cookie. "Even though I was more of a Pin-ball guy. I still have record scores at the arcade in the town I grew up in."

You steal a cookie off of his plate, the bitter-sweet chocolate delight melting on your tastebuds. "You still need to show me what an arcade is like. Maybe we could hit that one." Previously, you had a conversation where you revealed that you've never been to an arcade in the past, which left Peter deeply offended. He vowed to take you to one soon, but the two of you as of lately had found yourselves so busy there was simply never a time.

"Damnit! You're right." His expression of distraught quickly changed to that of a happy one with an idea. "There's an arcade machine in my room I can introduce you to! I mean, it's nowhere near as fun as the entire arcade experience, but-"

"- That sounds perfect, Peter." You didn't even have to be convinced.

You stayed at the dance until it ended for another hour, and Peter seemed to be rather eager to get back, considering the cleaning was going to be a group effort with all of the teachers; but he took the initiative to do it all himself instead of waiting and finished it all within a minute. Not that anyone was complaining, though. It was well past midnight, and class would still be resumed tomorrow at the normal crack-ass of dawn. Any sane person would pass up Peter's offer and reschedule for another time. But not you, you were so unimaginably happy to get invited to his room that the offer still remained as good as gold.

He sped you to his room, and it was everything you expected. For a man almost in his thirties, his decor resembles that of a teenage boy. This ranges from posters, snacks, and scattered piles of clothes on the floor. You can sense his immediate panic due to him not preparing for your presence. Frantically, he zips through his room, and a moment later, it's spotless. You laugh at this. "You know you don't have to do that for me. Mine is probably way worse."

You saunter over to the large arcade machine in the corner, touching the plastic buttons. "Did you buy this thing?" It's clearly a very expensive piece of equipment, gathering by its newer looking condition. Peter comes up behind you, chuckling to himself. "Nah, bro." His response made you certain that he'd stolen it, likely in his youth when he was a bit more scandalous.

Turning around to face him, you notice he's rather close. As much as he was earlier, except clearly not for the reason of dancing. You can't help but remember how low his hand was against your back. If he'd moved it even an inch further, he would have been touching you much more sensually. You wouldn't mind if he had.

As a matter of fact, you gathered that it's strange he'd invite you up so late. Yes, it's Peter, and he's never been the predictable type. But never in the years that you've known him has he invited you to spend quality time together at one in the morning, in his bedroom.

Once again, you shake yourself out of your lingering thoughts, ashamed. You're so ridiculously horny that it's embarrassing. He remains where he stood, playing with the strap of your dress.

"That's gotta be uncomfortable. Do you want something else to put on?" His thumb grazes over the red mark where the strap had been rubbing against your shoulder. Before you can even answer the question, he's searching through his dresser. He pulls out a Led Zeppelin t-shirt and sweats. Not wanting to be rude, you take the clothes and step in his personal bathroom for privacy. Looking in the mirror gave you a small boost of confidence. Your makeup looks still wonderfully intact, and the dress you picked hugs your curves beautifully. It makes you feel so elegant that you almost feel sad to take it off.

But you can't. When your fingers give the zipper on your back a hard tug after many other failed attempts, you begin to panic. The fabric must be seriously jammed for this to happen. You've never had this much of a struggle taking off an article of clothing. For over ten minutes, you desperately try, breaking a sweat as you do so. That sadness from earlier changes to desperation as you try to then pull the dress over your head. You are unable to do this. It's too tight and won't even come over your shoulders.

Peter must have started to grow concerned with your absence. Hearing a knock on the door makes you jump. His voice from the other side is quiet. "You alright in there, bud?"

Your hands cover your face in embarrassment. You feel like you want to scream. It takes you a moment to awnser, fighting yourself on what to do next. There's a small window in the bathroom you think is large enough to jump out of, but considering your mutation is not flight and the fact that you're on the second floor makes you decide against it.

Finally, deciding to fess up, you stand at the door, opening it. "I'm stuck. My zipper is stuck." Clearly having no issues himself, he is already in his own comfortable clothing. You can see his suit disregarded on the floor in the corner of the room, that godforsaken tie on top of the pile. You know you can trust Peter to help you. He's not a creep. Not anything besides the occasional childish sex joke.

Peter laughs, motioning for you to turn around. "Geez, it seems like you just want a reason for me to undress you." You turn your head back to give him an eye roll, but accept his help and lift your hair up to assist him. His hands are gentle as he fights with the zipper. He seems to struggle as well, fiddling with the fabric for quite a while before finally you feel the sweet release of the restrictive clasp coming undone. After hours, you can finally breathe.

He'd just undone the top, but his hands stayed in their spot. Tingles went down your spine as he continued to slowly bring the zipper down. It was getting low. When you put it on earlier, it went all the way down to your ass before it was zipped. Right before he gets to that point, you stop him with your hand. Turning around to face him, you awkwardly smile; his hand still behind you.

Ultimately, you had enough, placing your hand on his chest. You aren't brainless. That was definitely a signal. "Peter, did you really invite me up here to play games? If not, that's fine, but I'm kinda dying from anticipation right now. Sometimes, I feel like you're leading me on. But then you do things that make me think we're just friends, and it's really confusing. And I have no problem with just being friends, but it's the middle of the night, and I'm standing in your bedroom half naked instead of playing Pong like we said we would and -"

He ends your rambling by pulling you close, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. You deeply inhale, taking a moment to register what's going on before kissing back. It feels heavenly, like drifting down a lazy river that doesn't have any kids in it relaxing. Like, your brain is slowly going to mush and becoming more and more useless as you continue, but you're totally okay with becoming a human vegetable if that means you can just keep going. You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the connection. He tightens his arms around your back before lifting you up off of the ground, slowly twirling you around in a circle while in the air. This makes you snicker against his lips, which he reciprocates. The happy moment makes your brain foggy with admiration.

"I'm an absolute loser for not doing this sooner." Peter lays you down on the bed, joining beside you. Your legs hang off of the edge of the furniture. "I really, really like you. I have for a while. When we decided to have a prom I wanted to ask you to go with me so bad and be all cheesy about it, but I pussied out so I decided that the next best option was to get Jean and Raven to teach me how to dance so that we could." His words are being sputtered out like rapid-fire. "Please tell me I'm not finally saying this too late, and you haven't met someone else?" His voice is soft, laced with hints of doubt. He brings his fingers up to your hair, brushing it off of your cheek and behind your ear.

Your discomposure becomes all the more obvious as you pick at your nails, fiddling with your hands anxiously. This entire moment is more than you could even fathom in the past, like a fairy-tale coming to life. He likes you. He has liked you! Every pent-up feeling you've ever had for years has been reciprocated. "Peter -." You pause, trying to think on what to say. "You have no idea how happy that makes me. You wouldn't be late even if you had waited another few years to tell me that. I've liked you for a while."

Peter rolls himself on top of you, pressing multiple kisses to your face. He starts with your forehead, traveling his lips quickly down your nose, then rapidly on your cheeks. The affection feels pleasantly smothering. Finally, with one last final peck on the space between your brows, he connects himself to your lips once more. It's even better than the first time, giving you more of an electric sensation.

You grow heated, the sensation making you feel aroused. The kisses on your end grow more open-mouthed and inviting. When his tongue slips inside hungrily, you whimper, reveling in the feeling. This only encourages Peter more as he lifts his arm behind your back, making it arch while gliding his other hand down your torso. He groans delightfully, feeling your curves with fervor.

"Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?" His voice is deep with longing. His tongue laps against the sensitive flush of your neck. He finds the spot that makes you gasp the loudest, sucking the area just enough to make a small mark of his presence. You definitely don't ever want him to stop. He continues to go lower, trailing down between your breasts. Peter pulls you up, sliding the already half-off dress down your shoulders. His face turns bright red as a gawks at the sight of your bare chest. His finger rolls over your soft bud as he feels it harden beneath it. Squeezing your soft mound, he plays with you for just a little longer before connecting his lips to yours. There's a certain gentle urgency in his touch that brings you to an otherworldly place. Nothing else matters in this moment besides his hand that's slowly coming up your thigh. You can feel yourself already slick with arousal as you squeeze your legs together for some kind of friction. Peter senses this, using his hand to spread you apart as much as he can with your still clothed bottom-half.

He cups your center with his palm, rubbing over the area. His fingers curl inside of your folds, the ghost of a touch teasingly going over where you need him most. You mewl desperately for him, grinding into his hand. He grins against your neck, chuckling to himself. "So wet for me already? That's extremely hot. Have you ever gotten this worked up for me before, when you're all alone?"

He finally rubs slow circles against your clit, causing your eyes to screw shut with ecstacy. You can only bring yourself to nod as a response, finding yourself physically unable to speak in such a state. His hard-on is pressing against your leg. You can tell he's just as desperate as you are. Taking your hand, you press it against his chest to signal him to stop. His movements coming to an end leave you with a sense of longing as you get up, but quickly, you remove the rest of your dress and allow it to fall to the floor. Fervently, you slide down his pants and boxers. His cock springs to life after no longer being restricted by the confines. His tip is already leaking precum. The craziest thing about this entire ordeal is how natural it feels, but perhaps that's because of how often you find yourself imagining it.

Peter swallows, knowing where you're going with this as you wrap your hand around his shaft. You squeeze him lightly in your hand, testing the waters by giving a few slow pumps while watching his reactions. His face contorts in pleasure as he leans back on his elbows. He refuses to look away, fascinated by the sight of you. You experimentally lick from the bottom of his length to the tip, swirling your tongue around it. The taste is actually quite nice, faintly sweet. You suck his tip once more before finally bobbing your head down, taking as much of him as you can. It's only a little more than halfway before you can feel him against the back of your throat. You have to hold back gagging from the sensation. Peter lets out a deep groan, saying your name like it's his mantra. As you continue, his groans grow more needy. His hips instinctively thrust upwards, causing your eyes to water as he fucks your throat. A part of you grows embarrassed, knowing the tears in your eyes and swollen lips are not the greatest sight to see. But Peter trains his eyes on you, mesmerized.

He pulls you off of him, taking off his shirt before aligning himself with you. You look down and admire his toned muscles, stroking them curiously. It's wonderful. He feels and looks like one of those majestic Greek statues. Not the weird ones with small dicks and missing noses. Peter's cock teasingly rubs between your wet folds, brushing against your sensitive clit. You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him to go inside. He begins to push his tip in, slowly bottoming out. When he finally does, he gasps, squeezing your hips. The feeling is delectable as he stretches you out so perfectly. You can feel your walls fluttering around him. Nodding your head, you signal for him to continue.

His pace quickens fast, and Peter pulls one of your legs up as he thrusts to go deeper. His eyes are trained on your expression, trying to find the perfect spot to hit in order to fully satisfy you. When he achieves this, the upward curve of his dick rubbing an area that makes your eyes practically roll to the back of your skull, he drills you just like that into the mattress. You find yourself unable to hold back the unholy noises you had no idea you could make. Pleasure overwhelming enough to make you mentally check out.

You begin feeling an all too familiar intense fondness in your abdomen. It's like a tital wave threatening to spill over. You grab Peter's shoulders, pulling him close. He peppers kisses along your collarbone, thrusts getting more uncoordinated and sloppy. He's getting close too, you can tell by his labored breathing and moans that are growing slightly more high-pitched and frequent. His hand reaches down, buzzing against your throbbing bud to finish you off. Your eyes shoot wide open, not expecting that suprise. Sure, you've seen him use this technique in the past to break glass, but never had you imagined that he could do this. He pumps once more deeply inside of you, sending you over the edge. Blinding pleasure explodes throughout your body, sending you into an oblivion. Peter pulls himself out, cumming on the soft skin of your stomach and letting out a guttural moan.

He collapses on top of you, nuzzling his head in the crook of your shoulder. Sweetly, his hand runs through your hair, a string of unintelligible compliments being whispered in your ear. "You're so perfect, baby. Never, never, never ever letting you go. Never. Don't ever leave me." Those are a few of the many you manage to make out. You tightly embrace him, allowing yourself to relax against him.

You feel a sudden shift, and in the blink of an eye you find yourself wearing the clothes he gave you earlier, all cleaned up. He is instantly laying beside you again, fully dressed, with a blanket covering the two of you. He pulls you against him as he lays on his back. Smiling, you trace small circles onto his chest. "We should do that more often, huh?"

He nods excitedly, pulling you in tightly. "Oh hell yeah, we've got years of being deprived we gotta make up for."

[a-murmur-of-a-prayer]

Rambles On Femininity And Gender

(Wow this turned out longer than I thought. I guess you're getting some prose/vaguely poetry-esque writing tonight. WARNING: it's all pretty mild, but I do bring up derogatory terms for women, as well as vague references to sex, sexual assault and suicidal ideation.)

*clears throat*

My relationship with my body, and with the idea of being a woman, is so fascinating to me - because for years I did feel like a girl, but when I turned 18 I couldn't call myself a woman. It felt weird. I still can't call myself a woman. But I don't remotely feel like a man, either. I also don't feel comfortable thinking of myself as non-binary or genderfluid. For a long time, I haven't really known what I am.

Lately, I've started to play with the idea of that, and why I feel that way. I was allowed to be a tomboy when I was a kid, to relate to male characters, to help my dad with physical chores since I didn't have brothers - then the moment I turned 13, I needed to wear make-up and act like a lady. But I couldn't draw sexual attention; I had to wear modest clothes, to be gentle enough, to be polite enough, to be the exact right balance of everything.

"Oh, don't wear that," I'd hear, "you don't want to look like...well, never mind." There was an invisible word there that I wasn't old enough to know. I learned it when I went to high school; the word was slut, or some variation of it. And how do you deal with growing up as a girl, when you like playing in the dirt and pretending to be an action hero, but deep down you're also dreaming of being loved? What do you do when the only way to be loved is to abandon all the things you like in service of some person everyone else wants you to be? What do you do when you want to talk to boys, but your friends tell you stories about being sexually assaulted by their boyfriends? What do you do when old men whistle at you, and when the boys you sit in class with say vulgar things about the girls they want to fuck? What do you do when all the adults in your life tell you to look like a lady but not to dress a certain way, not to even think about sex...and on the other side, most girls in your town lose their virginity by age 15?

You are given a choice, essentially, between being fuckable and having autonomy. It sickens me that I even put it into such black and white terms; removed from the environment, I realize how horrible it was that I thought that was so normal. I chose to have autonomy, partially because it seemed safer at the time but also because I had squashed down every ounce of thoughts about sex I'd ever had. It wasn't a woman's job to be interested in sex; it was your job to be interested in having children. But obviously, I wasn't going to even have that, because I'd made painstaking effort to not draw the wrong type of attention. That meant that when I actually drew the right type of attention, when a boy was interested in me, I couldn't recognize it.

When I turned 18, they said "you're a woman now!" Outwardly, I looked like one. But inwardly, I didn't recognize that. I knew what my body was, but that body wasn't a woman.

Eventually, once I got out of that town, I started to change. Sometimes for the better (I made friends who were comfortable with whatever version of me existed, with whom I could embrace whatever side of gender I felt like), and sometimes for the worse (I craved a relationship, so the replacement for that was toxic people that gave me extreme depression to the point of suicidal ideation). And then, after that all passed, it started to hit me that I hadn't kissed or had sex with anyone and I was in my twenties, an old maid by my hometown's standards, so I started going out to bars, putting on a performance, finding a guy here and there to flirt with, and sometimes more than that...but the more men I kissed, the emptier I felt. So I didn't know what to do.

Now, I'm starting to enjoy things I never thought I would. I wear make-up every day, because I like it. I cut my hair short because I wanted to, and now I'm starting to grow it out in a way I think I'll enjoy. I write smut fics, and I enjoy it; it channels something I haven't historically thought about. I like dancing at bars with my friends. I wear things that sometimes show a little too much, that maybe make me look like a slut. I've learned to experience things for my own pleasure. I've learned to watch movies and say, out loud, that guy's hot, and not feel like a shallow teenager for saying it. This might seem really weird to the rest of you; but that's something I've struggled with for my entire life, and even saying that little bit feels like a huge victory. Scratch that, to think about sex at all is a victory.

And the thing about it is that I enjoy it when I'm doing it for myself. I might not have found a boyfriend yet; a depressing part of me thinks that maybe I never will, that I'll just drift through life craving touch and connection and love and not be able to get it. But I do know that when I do those little things, I feel just a bit happier. I like myself just a little bit more, because it helps me to tell myself - I deserve love, I deserve happiness, I deserve to feel pleasure, I deserve to look pretty. I want to be soft, and I don't want to lead all the time, and none of that is going to put me in danger if I find the right person. And it's okay to want it.

If 14-year-old me could see me right now, she'd be betrayed. She'd think, how could you? Don't you still want to be like Indiana Jones? Don't you want to have your own job? And the answer is yes, I do. But maybe I would've liked doing feminine things too, wearing lacy lingerie and low-cut tops and make-up, and flirting with boys, if I hadn't been pressured to do it for someone else's idea of a woman.

I still don't think I can call myself a woman, though. I'm not upset about it in the slightest; it's just probably something that's never going to change.

Now, I don't know if this is a unique experience, or something anyone else can relate to; this is the most personal, in-depth post I've written about myself, but I wrote it partially in the hope that, if this resonates with anyone, it makes you feel seen. Or maybe this really is a completely original experience, and I've just lived a weird, insane life. Either way, it really does help to own up to how I feel and write it out - usually I channel that in fanfiction, but this has been cathartic in a way I never could have imagined.

(Could this have been way shorter? Yes. However, I'm not a concise person, so I don't really care.)

[lonespektr]

Well shit right out of the gate

Boys already in the trunk

Already in a secondary location

Oh not cut back to 6 hours earlier

They live... Somewhere vold apparently

They are little friends

I thought they were strangers

Boyhood intimacy that dissolves when toxic masculinity sets in

Playing ball

They are to be clear

In apparent middle of nowhere

No frame of reference for location

Wind and trees so you already have the appearance from this scene they are two boys alone in the middle of nowhere

Despite the fact that they are children, they can't be alone and they are dressed for a ball game so clearly there's a school a house a community.. something but we are estranged from that

WOAH

Violent spree no lure

Back to the trunk

Kid is a fighter

They are doing a good job of not aging up this young black boy

Think this is assisted by the boys constant voice cracking and the intimacy of the shots prior

Juxtaposition with ocean cuts... California, the dream

The other boy was separated (taken out of the trunk first)

Artsy cuts interspersed

The black kid makes a break for it then realizes his bestie in the house and he turns back

We are still very much in the middle of nowhere

Stealth is not this boys expertise

Luck and being in the middle of nowhere has helped him evade notice thus far

Oh shit there's two men this just got bad

Cash in hand

The other one leaves

He gets caught quickly

Chase

Through the house obvious creeper tries to placate the boy everything is locked so it's not a hostile chase as an adult (sicko) trying to calm a boy down

Luck is on the boys side almost physical comedy he gets his own self killed slipping into a knife basically trying to pretend hes not going to hurt the boy (bobby)

Now we see the watch again 38 mins on the clock

Kevin is ahackled in the room which is why he ain't done anything

Bobby after an unknown length of freak about apology session for the dead kidnapper

Goes to find kev

Keys to the room and presumably shackles are unlocateable

But keys to the car are in dead kidnapper no 1 pocket

Bobby tries the car to go get help

But bobby is fucking 8 or some shit and not only cannot drive but definitely can't drive a fucking a manual from the sixties EYE can't drive a manual from the sixties that shit didn't even look like it had power steering

Bobby finds a rotary phone

Kevin knows how that shit works lol it's 2020 and their 8

The watch beeps

Time is up

I will note the car rolled down the drive which might provide cover ??

The use of sound is to isolate small noises and pump them to 11 the watch beep a nail crack a screw turn

The kid dials 911 and the 911 operator calls him " sir"

It's obviously a small child

The dialogue is limited (as with most horrors) and the supplemental info is radio and tv soundtracks

With specific narratives

Kevin unscrews a heating grate (it's an old fracking house it's thin iron wrought

And tries to chop his foot (before interruption)

The emphasis at the age of these kids is highlighted at every turn because that will most certainly not work it's not heavy enough hes not strong enough etc

Bobby struggles like hell to move the corpse and it's only assisted by the pool of blood that slicks the way

He is TERRIBLE at cleaning like children are there's a lot of blood and it's almost comically bad how he can't get it come out

Failed to mention the rotary phone was in a chest of otger little boys bloody clothes so here we are

Bobby successfully temporarily hid the body and the car rolled in a ditch so as predicted he seems like he left

I don't know that this scene is even necessary but the boy is at least covering all the angles

The kidnapper #2 comes back and access a safe and goes elsewhere the boy then acesses the safe and finds a shit ton of cash and pedo paraphernalia

As if we don't know, and does the kid need to know? Did we need an innocence further lost moment

Best guess is an explainer that these men are human traffickers not pedos themselves and that is why the boys are in immediate bodily harm?

Because the photos were staged that speaks to sale and gives the audience a time explanation for why they are alone for so long, this is a stash house???

Bobby injures himself trying to get kev out again reinforcing they are children and complete idiots

Hes caught again

911 rolls up and instead of smashing the window he just starts screaming

The intensity of this film is relaying to the audience just how young and stupid these kids are

Theres a woman now

Not surprising snatching two kids at once is a multi partner operation

Local cop

PLOT TWIST the other guy is a woman there are only two .so far

Local cop tips his hand that there's a kidnapper traced to the area???

This a stupid cop trope or a woman aren't suspicious commentary

Cop clocks woman cut her hand is being obviously go fucking suspicious AND her attempts at banter are off putting in a way that's clearly designed to put him on the defensive

Lady decided shes been caught and shes putting down local cop because she just leaves him at the front door

A small black child runs out of a white womans house and says help us

Local cop is like oh fuck this is real situation

Cop down/ which means help is on the way later because... dispatch is gonna ask soon, even if it's in podunk no where

Shinning reference/ axe door

The gun obviously comes out now because obvs she was trying to protect the merchandise

She found her partner in crime

Lil reference to even racism in trafficking she was going to leave him in the car to die presumably because she can't get money for black kids

Not presumably she just said it

Annd now shes aging him up as a "fighter" because he's trying desperately not to get trafficked, classy

Bobby gets the drop on her she's clearly illustrated she gets smol white boys probably with lures and probably makes her partner do the fighting

Despite getting the drop on her and handcuffing her to a pipe he literally left her with the gun (kids are dumb)

He gets grazed but hes 8 so getting shot isn't ideal

WTF does kev got on his neck??

There's racial implications here in the non black child

(I don't think kev is white tbh)

Really seen just panicking and not doing shit to save himself, he's less mobility due to being chained but after his one idea of self harm is concluded he is largely seen just screaming and crying no survival instincts

Is this appropriate for a child yes

But there's clearly a race element as who is expected to be saved and who anticipates their own rescue even when bobby is doing anything and everything he can injured fighting adults kev is just crying don't leave me as if he hasn't been there the whole time when he could have left

It's a shock collar

But it's janky as shit and clearly made from AA batteries only after bobby LITERALLY passes out from pain and blood loss does kev find it in himself to save his own ass and does the decent thing to collect his bestie to

I'm not convinced had the cutters to the shock collar not been with bobby kev would have just dipped

The got into the police cruiser and at least kev is a boy scout he's doing first aid once again the radio dispatcher is trash and tells them to get off the channel

They evade long enough for the cops to come in the nick of time

Apparently they make it to California the boys carry we never see the parents their house their lives anything it's wholly insulated

For instance what's the context be if we see the parents ( not saying we should have) but it's two boys from separate families meantto attend a ball game

Yesterday

These under 12's have neen missing overnight there would already be an amber alert

Two boys who say their first and last names say they have neen taken

That should have illicited a response

Anyways solidly constructed

Child in the cupboard playing with mice

Blood and screams coming from above the floor boards

Fast forward

Man digging bog is big news in small town

This woman doesn't want her mother picking up her kid from school

There's a dig bog adjacent, mummified corpse

Bog digger saw something and died

Intruder in the back yard??

Mom has seizures ( for the record immensely poorly imitated seizure, it seems hard for actors to do that for some reason

It's poorly researched ??

It looked like a literal tremor including the bed

Researcher comes into town, flirty with woman who has dark family history

(Murder of granny to start with)

Home invasion of woman - one of the guys on the researcher team says they're making me do it

Attacks them, steals milk??

Let's out a scream in a voice not his own womans voice

Lady protag not too terrified to clock it

WTF?

Mom is gonna get stabbed in mouth obligatory horror phallic intrusion into mouth 🙄🙄🤮🤮 everybody take a drink

Dad saves the day

With a hammer no serious injuries except to research tram member

The guy comes by to apologize on behalf of his employee

Saying he's literally the nicest guy on the team and he had to have snapped thru have known him for years

She tries to connect it to the past but the head researcher says he would have been a teenager when that happened and also not in this country at all

UH OH

I knew the old man knew something he says bog man was very nice to before he started digging crazy bogs and

It's starting again DUNT DUNT DUNNN

Mom not buying it but she drops they go to get an mri and a demon child if following her around the hospital ???

Why did u stay in the elevator with a demon child?

Why are taking their hand they chanting somi

Ghost behind you!!!!

Omg lol the child passed ou and she left it in the elevator 🤣🤣

Chant translation: she never died

Dutch traditions of bog whispers legend of Feike

Who's helen?

The bog digger is referenced to by his father as a sensative

He's saying his son probably heard a whisper

Like the elevator

The woman fights with the researcher in the car about not being crazy and asking genuine questions about what the bog the digging and the woman they are digging up have to do in common

The researcher says hes not going to tell her if she's paranoid

They immediate counteract her point by having her jump out of the car into the middle of the night screaming than pounce on the guy and have sex in the middle of the field 🙄🙄

Cut to the dig site

Four women all throats cut

Oh yea the dead set up nature cams

Graphic take for a children's play even as town lore

And moloch didn't even save the woman she action does but ruling over prosperity and resolving town poverty is a big get

Dad setting up traps instead of serving the play the daughter played feike

[gastromancer]

drag queens aren’t.. “men in play bunny costumes”? is someone wearing like a full body dress or a leotard the equivalent of wearing a “playbunny costume” now?

yr like..acting like drag queens are inherently sexualized— calling them “men in playboy bunny costumes” and acting like their costuming is all reducible to that— and then arguing that trans ppl shouldn’t be ‘conflated’ with what you characterize as “inherently sexual roles”. like firstly.. many-to-most drag queens are transgender ppl (non-binary, transmasc/trans men, transfem/trans women)! they’ve historically been mostly cis gay ppl or trans ppl. trans & gay ppl have historically been associated with drag because it is an aspect of trans & gay culture. that’s not like.. a bad thing at all. yr the one trying to argue it’s an inherently sexual culture & that drag queening is an inherently sexual role (conflating drag queening with being a “stripper” or “basically dressing like a playboy bunny”).

Great, then you wouldn't mind a few dozen strippers in their stripper outfits…

where the fuck did this come from? istg this is like arguing with a brick fucking wall that always comes back at you with some bizarre perverse strawman like “so you want strippers around kids? so you’re saying you want strippers stripping in front of kids. you want kids to see ass & titty? huh huh??” no matter how unrelated that is to what you actually said.

like. i think i’m just repeating myself at this point. drag queens can be dressed & covered appropriately while in drag. i made it so fucking clear atp that drag queens should be covered appropriately around kids. which isn’t hard, bc the majority of drag queens often wear full-length dresses & covering while in drag.

Also yes, good point. Criminalize toddler beauty pageants, child beauty pageants, toddler drag, and child drag shows.

i do think child beauty pageants should be done away with entirely but my point, specifically, is that shit will probably not conceivably happen bc the state of Florida does not consider child welfare endangerment a problem unless it’s something that they associate with gay/transgenderism at the ‘site of the problem’. the state of florida, the states generally, don’t actually give a shit abt child welfare & they don’t care abt identifying the structural sites of violence & disenfranchisement toward children (lack of autonomy for those handled by the state, etc.), they care abt politicizing on sensationalized topics like drag queens preying on children or whtvr.

also yeah, no kids at stripper conventions. but drag has no relation to that bc the essence of a stripper convention is that it is inherently sexual & the essence of drag is that it is people dressing up in wild make-up & big wigs & goofy dresses. you can’t have a stripper convention if u completely remove the sexual aspect but you can certainly still have a drag performance w/o anything sexual or sexualizing in the costume, dance, script, etc. [an example of such]. it’s entirely possible to have “all ages friendly” drag performances but drag isn’t people Dressing like Playboy Bunnies (as much as you like to insist it is), & drag queens can be garbed in appropriate outfits (full-length dresses, coats, etc.) and do a show.

also like.. if u want to call me a pedophile do it pussy out & everything. don’t put that shit in the tags and vague about how i must want adults to fuck kids.

i’m specifically referring to the children’s autonomy as to choosing their home/family structures, etc. while they are in state custody (orphanage, foster care..). generally speaking children don’t have a lot of control over these things, and the state disenfranchises children in the System. granting children more autonomy in these processes will benefit them generally, including in their sexual & psychological health (ie: less likely to face sex abuse, etc.)

[thesevenkingdomsrightfulqueen]

Barba: The game is on.

Olivia: What are you, Sherlock?

Barba: *suddenly pulls out a Sherlock-esque hat and pipe*

Olivia: Yes apparently you are...didn't take you for the "dress up" type.

Barba: This is strictly to get me in the mindset for deductive reasoning, all business.

Carisi: I'll be Watson!

Barba: NO YOU CAN'T PLAY WITH US!

Olivia: All business, huh?

[dippedanddripped]

Old Nollywood aesthetics and fashion may be considered trendy today, but the films were not always so well-regarded. In the 90s and early 2000s, when these movies were made and watched in parlours across Nigerian homes as they were shot, straight-to-video, they were considered as bad entertainment, or ‘low culture’. To watch and enjoy Nollywood films was to celebrate mediocrity. But today, nostalgic young Millennials and Gen Zers are overlooking the jarring audio, grainy pictures, and sometimes hammy acting, to appreciate not only the grooming and style of the actors, but the original and diverse stories that reflect unique Nigerian experiences.

It was for this reason that sisters Tochi and Ebele Anueyiagu started Nolly Babes, a nostalgic Instagram account dedicated to celebrating the cinematic period’s women. Started in December 2017, their first post was of Nollywood’s biggest star Genevieve Nnaji; a still taken from 2004 film Sharon Stone In Abuja, directed by Adim Williams. Nnaji plays the titular character, a sexually liberated young woman who uses her beauty and charm to ensnare unassuming men into doing her bidding.

The account is an ode to the female characters of old Nollywood who were often portrayed as warning examples. The storylines were steeped in moral principles rooted in the patriarchal culture and the dominant Christian religion of Southern Nigeria. A large number of the female characters were considered immoral because they kissed other women, challenged men, smoked and drank, or wore mini skirts. Today, Nolly Babes and similar accounts are reimagining these women, taking their scenes out of the moralistic context of the films, and turning them into iconic feminist personas.

The first time Nollywood content seeped into the mainstream internet consciousness can be traced back to 2017 when videos of Nollywood’s favourite comedic duo Chinedu Ikedieze and Osita Iheme, better known as Aki and Pawpaw, rose to popularity due mostly to the influence of a now-defunct Twitter account @nollywoodroll ran by Nicole, a woman based in Brazil.

Their memes became the go-to reaction videos for expressing a wide range of emotions: joy, disappointment, sadness, frustration. The appeal was in seeing children making mischief or in adult situations – drinking beer and smoking cigars, wooing bigger women, or in oversized suits shouting instructions at people twice their size. Although both Ikedieze and Iheme were in their 20s in the early 2000s when most of the films were made, they mostly played children because of their body stature. By 2019, the memes had achieved such virality that brands like Rihanna’s Fenty would use them for social media clout.

Theodora Imaan Beauvais is the curator of Yung Nollywood, another archive of clips and stills from old Nollywood paying homage to its controversial female characters, after screenshotting moments from Nollywood she found “appealing or inspirational”. Yung Nollywood is remarkably distinct from Nolly Babes for its subtitling of the films’ stills from Nollywood films, something she attributes to Tumblr. While the idea to give witty captions to the actors’ facial expressions came from watching Netflix. “I thought, ‘If someone could describe Nollywood reactions in short phrases it’d be an art form on its own,’ and I became that someone.’”

In December 2019, Tochi and Ebele hosted a Nollywood-themed party in Lagos. Nollywood actor and musician Nonso Bassey attended the party dressed in a two-piece jean set and bucket hat, a signature look of the bad boy/alpha male archetype, and a role reprised multiple times by older actors such as Hanks Anuku, Emeka Ike, and Jim Iyke. Since that party, Nonso has attended social functions and premieres in outfits that make a nod to the fashion choices of that era of Nollywood. He insists, though, that he isn’t cosplaying Nollywood characters of that era. “I’ve always been attracted to the idea of merging old world charm with a new school approach,” he said.

The party caused a cultural stir amongst Nigerians and Africans both at home and in the diaspora – every other week, there seems to be a Nollywood-themed party held either in Lagos or London. Take for instance friends and business partners Imani Okunubi and Aseosa Uwagboe, two Nigerian-British kids who grew up in the UK. Nollywood was one of the ways they could connect back to their roots. That experience informs their event brand, Lasgidi to London, targeted at Nigerians living in the UK. “We wanted to create events that were reminiscent of the Naija hall parties (Owambe) we attended as kids, as we don’t want to see that culture die,” Aseosa said. Their next owambe is a Nollywood-themed party and guests are expected to come dressed in their “best nolly Y2K aesthetic”.

Below, the Nolly Babes sisters talk about creating and hosting the first Nollywood-themed party and the cultural moment it has inspired.

How did that first event come about – please take me through it, from the planning to how it turned out?

Nolly Babes: From the inception of Nolly Babes, we knew we had to throw a party. Fashion is a huge part of what makes Nolly Babes different from other Nollywood-themed pages and we knew we were the only ones that could set Nolly Babes as the dress code and have people commit as they did. There are many iconic Nollywood scenes and scenarios. The daughter meeting her evil mother-in-law, the ominous visit to the Babalawo, the campus stroll – just the mere mention of these scenes evokes images that have been embedded in the minds of our fellow Nollywood enthusiasts. The party scene is probably the most iconic of them all. Whether it’s in a club, a mansion while mum and dad are out of town (but coming home early to crash the whole thing) or poolside, the Nolly Babes party scene has its staples: mad music, dancing, and sick outfits.

December in Lagos is notoriously hectic. On each day, there are day parties, beach hangouts, concerts, and we just knew we had to be a part of it. Our flyer was the first thing we made sure was done right, and that has been replicated (but never duplicated) many many times. We went through at least six drafts of that until we got the flyer to be a realistic replica of the home video covers from the golden era. The DJs Kemi Lijadu and vIVENDII Sounds understood the assignment and played music from the Nolly Babes era. We’re talking Tony Tetuila, Mo Hitz, Wande Coal, Plantation Boyz… We curated a special cocktail menu: Genny Colladas, Jim Iyke’s Hard Lemonade, MargaRita Dominic, and our Lagos Island Iced Tea, in tribute to Nollywood stars Genevieve Nnaji, Jim Iyke, and Rita Dominic respectively. We had a video projection on the famous red wall at Nok showing a mashup of emblematic scenes. We were partying while seeing images of a young Jim Iyke dressed just like many of the attendees were dressed. It was magical! We have an event we’re planning in New York for the summer – it’s going to be a madness.

Did you envisage it becoming the cultural movement it’s now become?

Nolly Babes: We really didn’t. We hosted the party because we knew people were taking inspiration from our page for styling jobs and music video treatments, and wanted to give everyone a chance to recreate some of their favourite looks. Now every week we see people planning Nollywood-themed parties and sending people to our page for references. It’s awesome. Toke Makinwa even recently attended a Nolly Babes-themed party and she was dressed as a character we have immortalised – Regina Askia in President’s Daughter. She killed it! Even though the character wasn’t referenced, it was clear as day and it was awesome to see that she pulled it off! Honestly, when we see people really pay attention to detail and execute the theme well it’s so, so dope.

How has TikTok helped grow Nollywood's influence? You posted a scene from Girls Cot, the famous “you stink with poverty” clip on TikTok and it went viral and birthed these recreations even by non-Africans.

Nolly Babes: We’re just happy to see that another aspect of Nollywood that we champion – the iconic scenes and one-liners – is also resonating across the world. We see Nolly Babes as an archival work and as much as we focus on beauty and looks on Instagram, it’s nice to be able to point people in the direction of the scenes that are forever embedded in our brains. These are scenes we recreated in jest ourselves before there was even a Nolly Babes to begin with, so to see it catching on TikTok is exciting and a new frontier for us to fully explore. I think what distinguishes Nolly Babes from other Nollywood pages and what contributes to our TikTok success is that we really watch Nollywood movies. We grew up watching these movies and continue to do so now so we can capture those moments in films that the casual consumer or poster of Nollywood content might not.

What are your thoughts on Nollywood’s influence on the Alté scene? Music videos of artists such as Lady Donli and Odunsi nod to the aesthetic and fashion styles of that era.

Nolly Babes: Nollywood, and specifically the aesthetic we have shone a spotlight on, is probably one of the biggest influences in terms of visuals in that scene right now. I have never seen so many Eucharia (Anunobi) eyebrows on TV and we love it! It’s awesome to see our images and scenes being used in treatments and storyboards. If we’re being candid, we think it would be great if we got the chance to step into our stylist/creative direction bag and help with the execution of the aesthetic.

“The bottom line is really that Nolly Babes has brought what was already an international cultural influence to the modern social media realm with a new lens” – Nolly Babes

How far do you see Nollywood's influence on pop culture, beyond Nigeria and Africa?

Nolly Babes: When we moved to New York we found our Dominican and South American friends had also grown up watching Nollywood films. The bottom line is really that Nolly Babes has brought what was already an international cultural influence to the modern social media realm with a new lens. Nollywood clips were online everywhere – but it was always in a comedic way. Aki and PawPaw are meme gods now, and that’s because their expressions transcend cultural boundaries. Black Twitter eats that stuff up.

Nolly Babes chooses to center the beauty, style, and iconic imagery, even the home decor with our #NollyDecor hashtag of the golden era of Nollywood. We share the makeup, accessories, fashion, iconic phrases, and scenes in a way that isn’t just comedic but inspirational and aesthetically groundbreaking. I see Nollywood being at the centre of this Y2K resurgence that is happening all over the world, from TV to runways and fashion collections. That era is coming back around and, this time, the Black experience is being revisited and centered in a way it wasn’t back in the late 90s and 2000s. (Black people) were always the originators of the trends and this time they’re tapping into the source and Nollywood, particularly the era we celebrate as Nolly Babes, is a great resource for that.

Follow Nolly Babes on Instagram

[therealvinelle]

do you think carlisle wanted to be a dad or was dadhood thrust upon him

The latter.

He never shows any particular longing for children. When Rosalie speaks of her childlessness, she brings up Esme as one who wanted kids and is making do with the Cullens, not Esme and Carlisle. Carlisle doesn’t go full Father the way Esme does Mother, either, the parent-child dynamic that we see between Billy and Jacob or Charlie and Bella isn’t there. He treats his children like cherished and respected adults who sometimes need guidance, not quite kids. (More on this below.)

He doesn’t seem particularly drawn to kids, either, he lived in Volterra for decades yet his relationship with Alec and Jane is nonexistent, and whenever he meets up with Siobhan and Maggie (Maggie being 15) it’s Siobhan he focuses on.

Plus, and I know no one will be with me on this, but he just doesn’t have the vibe.

To backtrack a bit, how did Carlisle become the father figure in the Cullen family in the first place?

He never set out to become Edward’s father. He turned Edward because he’d grown attached to Elizabeth Masen, and she asked him to turn her son. After that, Carlisle looked at Edward as a potential vampire, and saw all the things Edward could be - a friend, a brother, or a son. He was willing to be a father, but brother or partner would have worked just fine by him as well. Edward got to choose which it would be, or rather Edward decided upon waking up: he took one look at Carlisle and said “yup, that’s my Heavenly Father”.

Then we have Rosalie, she could have been his sister, niece-but-not-daughter-figure, or friend-of-the-family-who’s-part-of-the-coven. Point being, she didn’t have to become his daughter, and yet she did. I can only assume that, like Edward, she chose it. As she found her place in the family, sister and daughter was what felt right for Rosalie in relation to Edward, Carlisle, and Esme.

Then Emmett entered the family, he was Rosalie’s husband, so son to Carlisle and Esme and brother to Edward it is. Alice and Jasper arrive, alright, guess we’re playing house! The coven leader and his mate are mother and father now.

Now, I don’t think the Cullens are secretly not a family, that the whole thing is a front brought on by contrivances. They make it clear again and again that they see each other as family, and they prove several times they’ll go to bat for Edward. And since this is a post about Carlisle I’ll stress that he even refers to newcomer Bella as being like a daughter to him.

The coven has its dysfunctions, yes, anyone who follows my blog knows that I think it’ll break up sooner or later, but that doesn’t delegitimize what they do have.

I think Carlisle is the father figure because that’s what the Cullens need him to be.

Edward was orphaned and alone in a brave new world, and immediately latched on to Carlisle. This isn’t the post to get into their relationship, suffice to say that he needs Carlisle to be his father and would not cope well with Carlisle saying “Fatherhood, huh, woof. Yeahh about that, kid...”

Of course, Carlisle thought of him as a potential son before turning him, but all the same this turned out to be what Edward needed.

Rosalie and Carlisle's relationship is also best reserved for a post of its own, but in a nutshell her parents were social climbers who viewed her beauty as their ticket up the social ladder:

“It was my mother’s job to keep our house — and myself and my two younger brothers — in spotless order. It was clear that I was both her first priority and her favorite. I didn’t fully understand at the time, but I was always vaguely aware that my parents weren’t satisfied with what they had, even if it was so much more than most. They wanted more. They had social aspirations — social climbers, I suppose you could call them. My beauty was like a gift to them. They saw so much more potential in it than I did. 

 (...) 

[I was] happy that my mother was proud of me and that my father liked to buy me pretty dresses. (Eclipse, page 90)

Enter then Carlisle Cullen, who has no interest in her beauty, no ambition on her behalf. He gave her this life she never wanted, yes, but in doing so he also saw something in Rosalie Hale that was worth it all, that he wanted to keep around for eternity.

Rosalie was very happy with her life, but even when reminiscing about how amazing it all was she is able to recognize that her parents loved her beauty, not so much Rosalie herself. Did she want that affection, of course, what child wouldn’t. But, I find the fact that she let Carlisle become her father telling.

I think he’s the father she wished Mr. Hale had been.

Alice is... complicated, but a big part of what she gets from being with the Cullens, from the high school routine and all the clothes, is personhood. She’s an inhuman entity with no memory of being human, and her visions make her even less connected to the physical world than other vampires are. How do you carve out a sense of self around that?

To her, performative humanity as a Cullen is just that, it’s her getting to be a person.

In that regard, having Carlisle around as a person to relate to, a father figure to give Alice Cullen the person substance, is precious.

Jasper doesn’t need a father, but he is in need of guidance and a confidante. Carlisle is implied to be this to him in Midnight Sun, when Jasper needs to be talked down from doing something rash and Alice’s response is to put him in Carlisle’s office and wait for Carlisle to come home and talk sense into him. Carlisle just smiles wryly and trots up the stairs to do what is apparently the not unheard of Jasper wrangling. I can see why the father/son thing comes naturally to them.

I think Renesmée to an extent will also fall under the umbrella of Cullens who act like baby birds around Carlisle, as explained in this post.

Emmett and Bella have no such void being filled by Carlisle. Do they see each other as family, sure, Emmett especially considering how many years they’ve been together. 

(Also, yes I’m aware I didn’t include Esme’s relationship with the kids in this post, that’s not to dismiss her but because anon didn’t ask.)

[deans-baby-momma]

Once In A Lifetime

A/N: Well guys. I guess you can say I fell down a rabbit hole....DEEP down a rabbit hole. And I’m going to blame Walker. LOL I’ve always been a Jensen/Dean girl with Jared/Sam curiosity and after a dream I had a few nights ago, THIS happened.  Now the dream was only the first part of this story, meeting them in a restaurant but them, while writing it took on a life of it’s own and I am not sorry in the least. 

Summary: During your shift as a waitress as a restaurant in Austin, you are surprised to find two of your favorite celebrities in your section. How will that encounter cause you to have a once in a lifetime experience? 

W/C: 11,138 words ( I’m not the least bit sorry)

Y/N: Your Name; Y/E/E: Your employment establishment

Warnings: ogling, fantasies, smut, p in v, fingering, v on v, oral (both giving and receiving), fisting, anal play, cum play, dirty talk, slight breeding kink, squirting, daddy kink, mama kink

"Holy shit," I exclaim before clapping my palm over my mouth as there were three adorable children in the vicinity. "Sorry. My name is Y/N and I'll be your server today," I say as I try to calm down. Jared and Genevieve Padalecki were seated in my zone at Y/E/E. "Can I interest you in some appetizers or some coloring pages and crayons for the kids?"

I can't help but glance around at the five of them. They two boys sporting the longer locks like their dad and the little girl, all dolled up with her light brown hair flowing down over her shoulders. They were three of the six most adorable kids in the world; the other three being the Ackles kids but I had yet to see them in person, only on the computer.  

“We will take some buffalo cauliflower bites and some mozzarella cheese sticks with marinara,” the loveliest voice I’d ever heard spoke. I look toward Genevieve to see her smiling at me, her brown eyes sparkling. 

“And-” I pause to swallow. “-for drinks?”

“Whatever is on tap for Jared, I’ll take a sweet tea with lemon and the kids will have Sprite,” she tells me, the smile on her face unmoving. ‘God she’s gorgeous,’ I think to myself as I write down the orders. ‘Jared is one lucky son of a bitch.’

I grin as I tell them I will be right back with their drinks and head toward the server area. I throw my pad down on the counter and lean against it, my palms flat against the granite. How the fuck am I going to get through serving them? I have had a crush on Genevieve since I watched Wildfire a few years ago. And then when I caught an episode of Supernatural and got a glimpse of Jared, I was in lust, for both of them. 

And now I had to cater to and serve them while being professional and less of a crazy fan. Yea that isn’t going to happen. I know myself too well. I’m going to do or say something that will absolutely humiliate myself in front of the two celebrities I have adored for years. 

Thanks to some tactical breathing exercises while waiting on their food and an internal pep talk, I got through serving the Padalecki family and when they asked for the bill I was a bit saddened that their visit was coming to an end. I knew I’d probably never see them again.

As I printed out their receipt I lamented the fact that the one time I met anyone famous it was at work and I couldn’t ask for an autograph or photo with them. I smiled as I gave them the sales slip and walked away. 

From my post behind the server’s desk I watched as the five of them got up and walked toward the door. Genevieve looked my way and smiled and waved as they left. I returned the gesture and giggled. 

After making sure the coast was clear, I approached their table to collect the payment and take it to the register. What I wasn’t expecting with the cash, was a handwritten note with a phone number on it. 

‘Y/N your service was magnificent. Here’s a little tip for you and a bigger one awaits, if you are interested. (xxx)xxx-xxxx. ~Gen’

Did she really expect me to call her? Was this even her real number? What kind of tip is she referring to anyway? I look at the money in my hand to see that they have paid almost $50 more than their bill! What bigger tip than that could it be?!

I waited until my shift was over and I was in the comfort of my own vehicle before I pulled the piece of paper with the number out of my apron.

Opening the text app with shaky fingers, I typed out the response I had thought of all evening.

Hey. Is this Genevieve Padalecki? It's Y/N from Y/E/E. I was your waitress earlier. 

Almost immediately my phone pings and I see that whomever I texted had responded.

Hey Y/N. Yes, it's me. Glad to see you found my note.

Yea, I did. What I can't figure out is why you left it. Did I do something wrong?

Oh sweetie no! You were the perfect hostess. Sweet, friendly, easy on the eyes ;)

Whoa, was this married woman flirting with me? This famous married woman who had an attractive, sexy, famous as well husband. 

Uh, thanks. 

You caught not only my eye but Jare's as well. We'd like to get to know you better.  Have you already gotten off? From work, I mean. Ha!

Ok, if that isn't flirting then I don't know what is. That was definitely an innuendo, right?

Yes. I'm sitting in my car.

Wanna come over? The kids are in bed. Us adults can talk without interruptions. 

Uh, okay. I'm gonna kinda need your address. I might be a fan but I'm not that kind of fan.

Gen sends me her address, along with the code to get into the gate. I realize they live in the gated community about 45 minutes away. 

I look in the rearview and notice my hair is frizzy and half of it has fallen out of the ponytail it was in. I really didn't want to show up on their doorstep looking like a charity case but then again was I going to pass up the opportunity to get to know two of my favorite celebrities?

If you aren't interested we completely understand.

Gen's message breaks me out of my reverie and I look at it, deciding what the hell.

On my way now. 

We can't wait to see you again Y/N!

I place my phone in the cupholder and start the car up, still in shock that I'm headed to the personal home of Jared and Genevieve Padalecki. 

What universe am I in?!

I get to their house and Genevieve meets me at the door.

"Hey Y/N," she greets me with a smile. "Did you have any trouble getting in the gate?"

"No, it opened right up as soon as I punched in the code." 

Gen is dressed down for the evening. Well, as dressed down as I'm sure famous rich people can  be. She is wearing velour sweat shorts, probably some name brand designer and her t-shirt has the Family Business Brewery logo and name printed on it. 

And here I look like a slob who can't care for herself. I so do not belong here.

"Come on in," Genevieve continues as she opens the door wide. "Jared is in the kitchen making us ladies some drinks."

"Uh, I don't know. I mean, I still have to drive home later."

"Or you could stay," she says as she takes my hand and stands right in front of me. Genevieve is just a couple inches taller than I am so we are practically face to face. 

"Oh."

That's all I can say. It is glaringly obvious now what this visit is. And if I said I wasn't down for it I'd be lying!

Gen smiles as she takes her free hand and reaches behind me, pulling the tie from my hair. I feel the weight of it fall to my shoulders. 

"That's better," she says then turns and pulls me further into the house.

We get to the kitchen and Jared is standing there, dressed down also in a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt. I can't stop myself as my eyes run down the length of his body.

The t-shirt doesn't do much to hide the breath of his shoulders or the bulk of his pecs,  the arms of the fabric stretched tight over his biceps. As my eyes wander lower, I realize that all the rumors I'd heard about the heft and length of his 'conda were not exaggerated as I can definitely see the outline of it behind the silky material of his shorts.  But what really draws my attention is the definition of his calf muscles; even relaxed they distend from his legs, the skin taut over them.

"Hey. You made it," his voice brings my attention back to his face. "I'm Jared."

"I know," I say sincerely, internally wincing at how nervous I sound. I smile to hide the uneasiness.

"Yea, I kinda figured that out at Y/E/E by your reaction," he chuckles as he hands a glass to his wife.  "Gen wanted a margarita but we have some craft beer in the fridge if that is more your taste. It's really good. Our friends, Jensen and Dee, own a brewery."

"Family Business," I state with a nod. "I've wanted to go check it out but haven't had a chance,  yet."

"Well, maybe we can get you a private tour sometime," he tells me with a wink. "Now, name your poison."

I settle for a Cosmic Cowboy, Jared grabs a Grackle for himself and the three of us make our way to the living room.

Their house is magnificent. There are logs, de-barked, as beams across the ceiling and even the staircase is made of the same type of wood. I'd seen it in a family picture on the internet but never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I'd be inside this home to appreciate the beauty of it.

The Padalecki's and I talk for what seems like hours. We all seem to have so much in common. Eventually I had traded the beer for one of Jared's famous margaritas,  thanks to Gen's suggestion and before I knew it I was on my third one and not feeling any pain.

A smile was glued to my face and I couldn't stop giggling. I was drinking with Jared and Genevieve Padalecki! Who would have ever thought that.

Jared takes the almost empty glass from my hand and laughs at the pout I give him.

"Ok lush," he says with his own deep giggle. "If you get too drunk we can't talk about what we invited you here for."

In my inebriated state, I say words I never in a million years thought I would ever utter. "You want to fuck me."

Jared looks surprised and glances at Genevieve, which causes me to look at her as I realize what I just said.

Can you go from intoxicated to sober in less than 5 seconds? Because I just did!

"Oh my god!" I exclaim. "I'm so sorry. I have no filter when I've been drinking."

I start to fidget and prepare to be thrown out of their house. I am taken aback when Gen smiles and says, "Yes we do."

There is a trail of clothing from the top of the staircase down the hall to where we are now. My body is being held up against the wall as Jared devours my mouth, Gen's lips on my neck and shoulder.

"You are so fucking sexy," she whispers and I whimper into her husband's mouth. "You caught my eye as soon as we walked into Y/E/E this evening. I knew I wanted you and Jared agreed."

"Let's take this into the bedroom," Jared murmurs against my lips and hoists me up by the back of my thighs, urging me to wrap my legs around his waist.

He carries me into the room with Genevieve following closely behind. He lays me back on the bed and hovers over me, his body pressed tightly to mine. I can feel his erection digging into my lower stomach.

"Jared," Gen calls in a sultry, seductive voice. "Share."

Jared pushes up off of me and Gen steps between my open knees. "Let's get these panties off of you," she says and I notice that she has already removed hers plus her bra and is standing at the edge of the bed in all her naked glory.

To say Genevieve Padalecki was beautiful would be an understatement but her nude? Well it just amped up the sexiness by a bajillion. She has no hair on her pussy, shaved (or waxed) clean. Her tits are perfect handfuls with pretty little rosy pink nipples that are erect and hardened. 

She has pulled her soft brown hair up into a makeshift bun and I watch as she reaches forward, her dainty fingers curling into the hem of my plain panties. Thank god I took the time before work to landscape!

She gasps as my equally shaven cunt is exposed as she pulls the garment down my legs and off my feet. 

"Such a pretty little pussy huh Jared?"

Jared comes back into my line of vision and he smiles at me before his eyes trail down to look at my bare body.

"So pretty," he says breathlessly as his hands come up and around his wife, his big hands covering her tits. "Bet it tastes so good. You gonna let Gen eat you out Y/N? Let her taste that sweet box."

I nod and he tsks. "Words Y/N. Use your words little kitten."

I swallow audibly and speak. "Yes. I want Gen to eat my pussy."

Gen smiles as she turns her head and kisses Jared passionately. After a few seconds though he pulls away, and pushes her closer to me. "Get to licking, baby while I open you up."

Gen bends down and I feel her hands on the inside of my thighs close to my center. The first touch of her tongue against my folds has me moaning like a porn star. She doesn't even breach my slit, just licks up the middle and then sucks on my outer lips.  

She moans and I look to see Jared has disappeared, on his knees behind her eating her out as she does the same to me. I can already feel the coil deep inside constricting. This is the most erotic sexual experience I have ever or will ever have!

When Gen does finally lick me open,  she immediately wraps her lips around my clit suckling and flicking the tip with her soft tongue. I feel a finger stroking around my entrance before it enters me. 

"Mmmmm," Gen moans and I open my eyes that I didn't even realize were closed. Jared is back in my line of sight, looking down as he notches his cock at her entrance.

He then places his hands on her hips and drives himself forward, burying inside his wife. Gen moans against my skin and I feel that coil tightening. I don't want to cum just yet so I brace against it, holding my release back.

With Jared's deep hard thrusts Gen's body bounces forward pushing her face closer into my pussy. She trades her finger inside me with her tongue and her thumb is rubbing circles around my clit as she licks my fluttering walls. 

My orgasm is bearing down and I'm beginning to fear I won't be able to hold it back.  

Jared is grunting and groaning behind her,  his eyes fixate on his wife's task of fingering me and licking my clit and labia. 

There is so much pressure between my legs I have to bite my lip to contain the scream that is begging to be released.

"Holy fuck!" Gen exclaims, pulling my attention to her. "Look babe. I have my whole hand inside her."

Jared's eyes travel to the spot and they widen as they take in the view. "Fuck! That is so goddamned hot."

Gen begins a soft thrust with her arm, twisting her wrist and letting her fingers hit my sweet spot. I see stars as I yell out. "I'm gonna cum!"

"Go on Y/N. Cum all over Gen. She wants it."

I let go and the pressure lessens as I feel my walls constrict and liquid squirts out around Gen's hand.

"God that was hot!" They both exclaim simultaneously and laugh.  Gen bends down and begins licking and suckling at my cunt as Jared continues his hard pace.

He slaps her ass twice and then stills,  groaning as I'm sure he is shooting his load inside her. Gen places her forehead on my inner thigh, catching her breath as Jared pulls out and looks down with a smile. 

"Baby you are leaking so much cum it's dripping on the floor."

When Gen moves out of the way, I get my first look at Jared's massive dick. And when I say massive,  I mean massive.  Not only is it ginormous in length but the girth is unbelievable.  How does he keep something that size hidden so well?

His hand is around the still-hard member and he looks at me as he fists up and down. "You ready?"

"Yes," I tell him confidently although inside I am not.

Gen has left the room, gone into their ensuite to clean up I'm sure. "Should we wait?" I ask hesitantly. 

"Nah, she knows I plan to fuck your brains out. She'll rejoin shortly."

“Okay,” I say with a nod and watch as Jared climbs onto the bed, walking on his knees to place himself between my legs. He is still fisting his cock, the mixture of his and his wife’s release lubricating the movement. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks tentatively and I look up at him. He has one palm on the mattress beside my head and is hovering over me, but not touching.

I nod and then with a quirk of his eyebrow I remember his request, to use words. “Yes. Please kiss me Jared.”

Jared leans down and brushes his lips against mine softly but firmly. When his tongue touches the seam of my mouth, I open for him allowing him to lick into me. The kiss quickly becomes deeper, more passionate. My hands automatically reach up and my fingers entwine in the long locks on his head, pulling him closer.

Losing his balance, Jared falls on top of me, his hand that was holding him up, cupping the side of my face as we both get lost in the kiss. I can feel his moist, damp dick on my stomach and it causes me to writhe. God, I so desperately want that monster inside me!

The bed dips with Gen’s return and her hands run over the part of my skin that is visible under Jared’s large form. 

“You two look so fucking hot together,” she whispers as she kisses along my neck. “Y/N, you going to let Jared fuck you? Feel that big dick of his filling up that perfect little pussy?”

I can’t answer her because Jared is still kissing me senseless so I whimper and dig my fingers into his scalp. Her words are music to my ears, the assurance and suggestion  of what all he is planning to do to me all the encouragement I need. She is okay with me fucking Jared; she is actually urging it. I pull away, opening my eyes to see his hazel ones, lidded and filled with lust. 

“Fuck me Jared,” I say and he smiles as he lifts himself and grabs his dick, notching it at my entrance. 

“Ready baby?”

I nod and smile before saying, “More than ready.”

The stretch of my walls around his dick is a pleasured pain. It feels so good as he keeps sliding deeper in until it feels as if his tip is going to puncture through my cervix. I look down between us to see that he is to the root inside me and it makes me wetter, if that’s even possible. 

Gen pinches my chin between her thumb and fingers and turns my head to look at her. “Y/N, Jared is going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” I answer breathlessly. 

Gen claims my lips with her own as Jared slowly and torturously pulls out until just the head of his dick is inside me. I feel his hands grip my hips and then he plunges into me in one swift movement. I can’t help but cry into her mouth as he sits the same fast hard pace as he had with her, his dick stretching my pussy and digging in deep.

I pull away from Gen’s mouth to yell. “HOLY SHIT! OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD!”

“Yea, you like that don’t ya?” Jared pants as he keeps thrusting into my willing body. “You like being impaled on my big dick huh?”

“Yes! Yes! YES!”

Gen reaches between us and uses her fingertip to rub circles on my clit, making that coil deep inside me tighten. I am going to be cumming any minute now, I know it. I can’t hold it back even if I tried.

“You going to let Jared fill you up. Pump you full of his cum until you’re leaking like I was? Yea, you are, aren’t you? You want to feel him throbbing and shooting his load into your womb.”

Her words make my eyes roll into the back of my head and I scream as I feel my climax bearing down. Without any more prompting from either of them, I once again feel that pressure from earlier and before I know it I am squirting out around Jared’s dick, my release splashing against his thighs.

“Fuck!” he exclaims as he ramps up his efforts and suddenly I feel the warmth of his cum and the throb of his length as he empties inside me, his grunts and groans barely heard over the blood pumping through my ears. 

Jared claims my mouth again, his cock still buried deep in my pussy as it softens. 

I just fucked this man while his wife watched, after having her way with me. Whose life is this?!

My eyes slowly open as I come to consciousness. I am hot, sweaty and uncomfortable and the need to pee is overwhelming. I go to roll over but am met with resistance, from both behind and in front of me.  What the hell?

I fully open my eyes and take in the view. That is not my ceiling and this is not my bed. My mattress has never been this soft, even when it was new.  I look down and see the ivory sheets and the maroon comforter and it all comes back to me. 

I fucked Jared AND Genevieve Padalecki! I am in their bed, in their house snuggled up between them.  I had sex with a married couple; not once, not twice but three times they fucked the daylights out of me. And I enjoyed every second of it.

I squirm as I feel something moving inside me, slowly making its way out of my body and sigh when I feel a clump of Jared’s cum slide out and down my ass, landing on the sheet under me. God, he cummed so hard and so much last night, filling both me and Gen up. 

And as good as it felt, it tasted even better. Especially out of Gen’s pussy. I had licked it right up as it poured out of her hole and onto my lips and tongue and she reciprocated before we teamed up and took turns swallowing him down, his palms cupping the back of our heads as we knelt in front of him, licking and sucking his cock.

My bladder takes me out of my reminiscence as the urge to piss becomes palpable and I wiggle and shift until I am out from under Jared’s arm and go to crawl over Gen’s sleeping form, unintentionally waking her.

“Hey sweetie. Where are you going?” she asks sleepily and the torpor in her voice is sexy and sensuous. 

“I gotta pee,” I tell her and she smiles before lifting her head to kiss me. 

“Ok baby. Hurry back.”

I walk into the ensuite and quickly sit on the toilet to do my business, still reeling from the events of last night. How the hell did I end up here? And how am I going to recover from having my dreams come true? How am I supposed to go back to my normal, boring existence after such an experience?

As I finish up and wash my hands, I decide that I’m going to leave while the leaving is good. What if they regret it? What if it wasn’t what they expected? What if I was just a first choice when they decided to have a threesome? Too many what if’s and not enough answers for my taste.

I tiptoe back into their room and grab my panties from the floor, pulling them on when I realize the rest of my clothing is thrown throughout the hallway. Shit! If the kids were up and strolling around the house they would see the waitress from the restaurant in their house half naked. 

“Y/N?” Gen’s voice causes me to turn my head to see her up on one elbow looking at me confused. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

“Y-yea. I think that would be best, don’t you?”

“Hell no. Get your perky little ass back in the bed,” she said authoritatively. “And take off those panties. I want to be able to touch you and caress you.”

I do as she says and she scoots closer to her husband as she pats the mattress in front of her. I climb in beside her and she promptly pulls me to her, her hand cupping my sex as she kisses along my ear. She whispers, “I’m never going to get tired of this pretty little pussy,” as she begins drawing circles on my clit and running her fingers down my folds. "Could eat it everyday and never get enough.”

I whimper at her words and she smiles against my skin. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? Me eating you out everyday, fucking you with my tongue, my fingers, my fist. Shit, I’m getting wet just thinking about it.” 

Her fingers tease my opening before two of them slide inside, curling up to hit that sweet spot. My back arches off the bed as I moan. “Yea, you like that don’t you. You like me fingering you.” She scissors her digits open and closed as we both groan at the slick that has accumulated. 

“Cum baby,” she urges. “Come on Mama’s hand.”

My climax comes out of nowhere as Gen sits up, propping her body with her free hand as he other works me furiously through my release. I watch her with bated breath as she removes her hand and licks her fingers clean. “Mmm, tasty.”

When she is done, she leans down and kisses me, her tongue prodding into my open lips, letting me taste the sweetness of my tang on it. I run my fingers through her hair, fisting them. 

“Jesus, what a sight to wake up to,” we hear Jared’s groggy voice and pull apart, looking at him. His hazel eyes are sparkling and there is a smug grin on his lips. “I could get used to this.”  Gen turns and kisses him just as passionately as we had just kissed and I hear Jared groan, knowing he is tasting the remnants of my release. 

Ok, so maybe this wasn’t something they regretted. This was what they both wanted and still want and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want it too. Maybe I had been the first opportunity they’d come across when they decided to have a threesome but I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. I would gladly take whatever they wanted to give. 

And from the sounds and sights coming from the bed beside me, I was about to have another out of this world sexual escapade with two of the hottest people on the planet. 

I’m sitting in the kitchen at the bar in my panties and a t-shirt Gen gave me drinking a cup of coffee and watching Jared move about the kitchen, cooking eggs and making toast.

A pair of slender arms wrap around me from behind, startling me. “Morning baby,” Gen purrs as she kisses my shoulder.

I tense up afraid of getting caught if one of their kids walk in. “Uh, where’re the kids?”

“It’s Wednesday. They always have a playdate with the Ackles kids on Wednesday,” Gen says as she comes around and sits beside me. “We’re good. Francine took them over and will bring them back this afternoon.”

“Oh. Okay,” I say hesitantly. I’m relieved that I don’t have to worry about being found out but I’m also nervous because the three of us are alone in the house. What exactly did they have planned? 

“It’s okay sweetheart,” Jared says as he sits two plates of eggs, toast and jam in front of his wife and myself. “We all need to talk anyway. And the kids do not need to hear what we have to discuss.”

Well, there goes my good feeling down the drain. Now is when they are going to drop the bomb; tell me that it was all fun and games but they’ve satisfied their curiosity and I’m on my own. God, how can I be so dumb. What made me think that two celebrities would want me to stick around?

I push the food around on my plate as I try to come up with a way to take the blow and leave with my head held high.

“Jared Tristan,” Gen admonishes. “Look what you’ve done. You went and made her feel bad. Honey,” she says as she places a hand on mine. “It’s not bad; what we want to talk about. I promise.” She leans over and places a chaste kiss to my lips. “Now eat up so we can get to it. I think you might need your energy if I’m reading this situation correctly.”

I try my best to eat as much of the food as I can with my stomach still in knots and my anxiety level through the roof. Gen clears her plate and then looks at me, silently asking if I’m finished. I nod and clear my throat. “Yes, thank you.”  

Jared grabs my hand and pulls me off the stool, dragging me toward the living room once again. Last night, this is the same exact place that they propositioned me and invited me into their bed. Now, here we are again, apparently discussing something new.

I wait with bated breath as Gen makes her way into the room, carrying her and my coffee cups, sitting mine on the table in front of me.

“First off,” she begins as she turns to look at me, one leg under her bottom. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Wh-what?” I ask in shock. Was she actually asking if I enjoyed having sex with them?

“Did you have a good time? With us?”

“Duh,” I answer cringing at my snarkiness. “Yes, I enjoyed it and I had an amazing time. And I understand if this was a one-off; something you wanted out of your systems. I get it. And I promise not to speak a word of it to anyone.”

Jared chuckles and Gen throws her head back, laughing. “Oh honey. I don’t care about that. Hell, scream it from the rooftops for all I care. We want to know if you’d like to continue.”

To say I am floored is an understatement. They are actually asking if I want to keep having sex with them? Have I died and gone to Heaven?

“Really?” I gasp. I never in a million years would have ever thought this was what we needed to discuss.

“Yes, really,” Jared tells me from the armchair. “We understand if it is too much. We, uh-” he pauses to rub the back of his neck and chuckle. “-got a little enthusiastic last night. It’s usually not that acrobatic. But yea, we want to know if you want to keep this going.”

I nod as my brows furrow and I look down at my hands, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of Gen’s shirt. How can I answer without sounding too enthusiastic or overly eager?

“Sweetie?” Gen asks, leaning down to look into my eyes. “Are you okay? Is it too much?” 

The worry in her voice is what gets me. Is she actually afraid I am going to turn them down? But I have to know something first.

“Can I ask a question?”

“Sure.”

“Why me? I mean, was I just the first girl you came across once you decided to have a threesome?”

Gen and Jared both chuckle. “No baby,” Gen assures me. “This isn’t our first time doing this. We’ve had threesomes before. We, uh- should we tell her Jare?”

“She’ll find out eventually,” he answers his wife. “Go on.”

“We had a relationship with Jared’s co-star Jensen for a few months. It went really well but then we decided to end it, amicably before we all got married. He was dating Danneel but she was living in LA while he was up in Vancouver with us. And well, we fucked. Not Jare and Jen, they just uh, shared me. Although they did get close to kissing once in a competition to see who could get me off first by eating me out simultaneously.” She ends with a laugh and I look over to see Jared blushing.

“Now, that...that cannot and should not be repeated,” he says, clearing his throat. “We just got too close and our tongues touched that’s all.” He explained my unanswered inquiry.

“So, this isn’t your first time having a threesome with another guy?” I ask. “But is it a first with another girl?”

“Yes,” they both answer resolutely. “You are our first female conquest.” Gen finishes before she laces her fingers with mine. “When I saw you yesterday at Y/E/E, I liked you immediately. Even though I could tell you knew who we were you kept it professional and when I asked Jared what he thought about you, I could tell by the way he looked at you he wanted you. We both did. That’s why I left my number. Figured it’d be safer to leave mine than his in case someone else found the note.”

“It’s in my car,” I smiled at her. “I wasn’t about to throw it away.”

“See, you knew. You might have not realized you knew, but you knew me leaving you my number was a big risk.”

“So?” Jared asks as both Gen and I turn to look at him. “Is this something you can see continuing?”

“Absolutely!” I answer confidently and certain. “I will be the third wheel for you guys.”

“Oh honey, in this relationship, we are all equals,” Gen says as she smoothes her hand over my hair. “Now, let’s talk about the rules.”

The 'rules' as I soon discover aren't really rules at all. Mostly we discuss what kind of things are turn-ons and what are turn-offs. 

I find out that Gen loves oral, receiving and giving,  whether it be male or female. She requests to be called Mama in the bedroom and is unopposed to anal play.

Jared's turn-ons include oral as well, he loves to maintain dominance over his lovers and inquired as to whether I am opposed to that aspect. I tell him an unwaveringly no. I will submit and comply with his control. 

When asked what I prefer, I shrug my shoulders. I'd never given it much thought. Sure, I'd had partners before; I wasn't a virgin by any means but to actually sit and think and come up with stuff I liked and didn't like was new to me. 

"Okay," Gen says, aware of my discomfort. "Well, we know you like oral, both giving and receiving it. And you like fucking, we are very well aware of that." She continues with a smile. "Are there any positions you're more fond of than others?"

"Uh, I like doggy style," I say, feeling my cheeks heat up. Good god, I've had sex with these people and I'm getting embarrassed!

"Hey now. None of that," Gen coos. "This is a judgment free zone."

I nod, feeling more confident. "I like it when, uh...when you pulled my hair while I was eating you out. And," I turn to look at Jared. "I liked when you spanked her while fucking into her. That was hot, but not like you know,  hard or a lot of smacks but...yea."

He smiles at me and nods. "Good to know kitten."

"Anything else?" Gen presses.

"Uh, nothing I can think of right now. No, but permission to revisit this if I do think of something?"

"Of course sweetie."

"One last thing," Jared announces and I turn to look at him. "Move in with us?"

When the kids come in later with their nanny, they stop in their tracks when they see me sitting on the couch with their parents, platonically of course.

The two older ones, Tom and Shep,  recognize me and ask their mom why the lady from the restaurant is here while the little girl, Odette, climbs onto Jared's lap and burrows into his chest, peeking out and glancing at me.

"This is our friend. Her name is Y/N and she's going to be staying with us," Gen eases the information to the boys. 

The middle child, Shep, is the first one to speak. "Does she like dinosaurs?"

Gen looks at me with joy and laughter in her eyes. I smile and tell Shep, "Dinosaurs are magnificent! My favorite is the pterodactyl.  What's yours?"

The discussion between the boys and I quickly turns to which dinosaur would win if they were all in a battle to which dinosaur could survive if they were to come back alive and be in the world as it is today.

Odette finally warms up and makes her way to my side,  telling me that Mommy dinosaurs have to wear makeup while Daddy dinosaurs go to work.

I had been terrified of how the kids would accept the fact that I was going to be living with them but I had nothing to worry about. 

Kids are resilient though. They can adapt and adjust to just about anything. The three Padalecki kids have no problem knowing there is a new person living in their home but I also know the real talk is going to come after dinner and after Francine leaves for the evening.

Gen and I work together that night, getting the dinner dishes cleaned off and stacked in the dishwasher. Every so often, Gen would glance around and then pull me into a kiss, keeping it mostly innocent and chaste. The only thing not innocent is when her hands would roam and grab a boob or my ass or one time she ran her hand down my crotch, pressing on my clit. 

Once the kitchen is cleared, the two of us join Jared and the kids in their playroom where we decide to tell them what is actually going on.

Tom and Shep were sitting on the floor playing with toy cars, making engine noises while Odette sat on her dad's lap, coloring. 

"Guys," Gen speaks, getting the boys' attention. "Can you come over here for a moment. Family meeting."

Tom and Shep get up and walk to the table and stand, looking between the three adults in the room.

"Okay, you know how we have taught you all that honesty is always best? And that lying will only get you into more trouble?"

"Yes ma'am," they say in unison.

"Okay. Well your dad and I are going to be honest with you. Y/N is not only our friend, she is our girlfriend. We like her like we like each other; like Unkie Jensen likes Auntie D. And she likes us.

"You will see us-both of us- hug Y/N and kiss her just like we do each other. If you have a bad dream at night and come to our room she is going to be in bed with us. But we will always, always make room for you.  You three are our littlest loves and there isn't anything in this world we wouldn't do for you.

"Also, Y/N is the boss as much as your dad and I are so whatever she says goes. If she tells you it's time for bed you don't try to haggle your way out of it. If she tells you you've had enough candy, you listen. She is the adult, you are not. You understand?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Okay. Do you have any questions?"

They shake their heads no and Gen smiles as she reaches out to ruffle Shep's hair and then Tom's.

"You can go play for another hour and then it's time for baths and bed."

The boys go back to their spots and continue their game.

"Well that went better than I was expecting," I say with a laugh.

"Our boys are smart," Jared says with an air of pride. 

Odette looks up at him with a scoff, which causes both Gen and I to laugh.

"You're smart too lil O," he tells her before placing a kiss on her temple. 

When it's time for baths, Tom asks that I help him so I follow him to his room where he picks out a set of pajamas and underwear. We walk down the hall to the bath and he undresses as I begin filling the tub.

"Y/N?" Tom says as he washes his hair. 

"Yea?"

"Do you love us?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, trying to keep my voice even. This was not a question I was expecting from a 7 year old.

"Mommy said that you like them like they like each other. And I know mommy and daddy love each other and they love us just like Unkie Jen loves Auntie D and JJ and Arry and Zeppy. So do you love us too?"

I'm not sure how to answer his inquiry. Do I love him and his siblings? Sure, what's not to love about three of the best behaved kids I have ever encountered. 

They took their Mom's news in stride, like it was no big deal that both their parents had a girlfriend, like it was normal.

"Yes, Tom. I love you and Shep and lil O. How could I not? You three are awesome," I laugh trying to break the tension. "Plus we can talk about dinosaurs without people giving us weird looks."

"Do you love Mommy and Daddy too?"

Well, there it is. The one question I was hoping to avoid because I didn't have an answer.  I don't know the answer.

Do I love Jared and Genevieve? I know I've lusted after them both for years and the three of us have had the most remarkable, memorable sex of my existence, but love? Wasn't it too soon?

"I think it is time to finish your bath before you turn wrinkly like a raisin," I tell him instead. 

It is only a few weeks later that those three words are shared between us. 

As we are readying for bed, Gen and I doing a skincare routine in front of the bathroom mirror Jared waltz in and lifts the toilet seat, not caring to relieve himself while we are in the room.

After he finishes and he rights himself, he wiggles between us to wash his hands. We both laugh at his antics and while drying his hands he kisses Gen,  telling her he loves her  and then turns to kiss me.

"I love you too," he whispers against my lips and my eyes widen at his proclamation.

The whole world stills, the Earth quits spinning and the air stops flowing as he presses his lips to mine again.

"Y/N?" Gen calls to me and everything begins moving again. "Are you okay sweetie?"

"Uh." That's the only thing I can utter. Jared just told me he loves me.  He just dropped those three precious words like it was nothing. 

"Do you not love me? Us?" Jared asks as he pulls away and looks down at me. 

My eyes well up with tears and I can't stop my body shaking if I wanted to. 

"Yes," I answer with a laugh. "I love you so much!"

Jared wraps me up in a kiss again, deepening it as he bends me backwards.  We pull away with smiles.  

"I love you. I love you. I love you," I say repeatedly.

"I love you Y/N," Gen proclaims as she pulls me into a hug before kissing me senseless.

That night we don't fuck. The three of us make love to one another, proclaiming our love and devotion to one another over and over until we each find our climaxes together, as one. 

On Friday we decide it is time to visit the Family Business Brewery to stock up on some more beer since the supply at home is getting low.

I'm nervous as hell as today I get to meet Jared and Gen's best friends and former lover. Jensen and Daneel and the kids have been away, up in the north visiting family and now they are back and the plan is to hang out at FBB to let the kids play on their playground. 

The Ackles know that Jared and Gen have someone they want them to meet but as I find out on the way there,  they have no idea just what I am to the Padalecki's. They just think it's a new friend.

As we pull up, the parking lot is half-full with vehicles and people milling about ready to go inside and sample some the craft beer that is brewed onsite.

I look toward the building and immediately can make out Jensen's silhouette. Probably because of the crowd that has amassed around him. Being one of the main characters on the country's hit sci-fi show and part owner of this place drew a bigger crowd to the brewery than the alcohol did apparently. 

I notice that over half of the guests have some type of Supernatural paraphernalia,  be it a t-shirt, a purse, or just a photo or something they hoped to get autographed.

The crowd finally disperses and Jensen finally makes his way to us, a smile on his face and a beer glass in his hand. 

"Hey guys. Glad you could make it. Dee is inside helping Gino run the bar since we are down a person," he explains and then his eyes narrow in on me. "Hello. I'm Jensen."

"Y/N," I say with a nod.

"Jay, this is our girlfriend." Gen tells him and I watch for his reaction. He is one hell of an actor because other than a quick widening of his green eyes, he fixes his face into one of nonchalance. 

"So, you're still…..doing that?" he asks lowly before taking a drink of his beer.

"We hadn't for a while," Jared speaks up. "Since you but yea, we now share a girlfriend."

"Nice," Jensen smiles but I can tell it's not a happy-for-you one; it's more forced, more strained.

Daneel finally comes out to join us and Gen introduces me much the same way she announced me to Jensen. 

"Oh wow!" Daneel exclaims.  "I, uh, didn't know you two were into that sort of thing."

So apparently she had no idea that a few years ago, Jensen had been in my position.  Good to know as now I can be  more aware of what to say and what to keep to myself.

The day is nice in the grove where the brewery is located. The heat from the sun is abated by the gentle breeze that flows through the trees. 

Jared and Jensen, and sometimes Gen get pulled away a few times by excited fans asking for pictures of just to chat, leaving Daneel and I watching the kids.

I can tell she is dying to ask questions so once there is no one close by, I turn to her and tell her. "You can ask."

"Oh thank god! It's been killing me. How does it work? Do you all sleep together? Have sex together?"

I smile at her questions. And with living with the Padalecki's I have come to also believe the truth is better than lying philosophy.

"We love one another and we work together raising the three most amazing kids I've ever met. Well, until now; the Ackles kids are pretty fantastic." I pause to smile at her. "Yes, we share a bed each night. Sometimes I'm in the middle, sometimes Gen. It just depends on who needs the assurance and safety net the most. 

"And yes we have sex together. As with the sleeping arrangement, we take turns on who is between the other two. Sometimes Jared fucks Gen while she eats me out and sometimes I eat her out while being whaled on by the big moose."

Daneel throws her hands up and shakes her head. "Okay. Okay. I'm sorry I asked. That was a visual I did not need. And now it's stuck in my head."

She storms off and I can't help but laugh at her reaction. I mean, she asked after all. I just hope I didn't ruin her friendship with my lovers. 

Later that night, when I tell Jared and Gen about it they laugh and assure me that it's nothing Daneel won't get over; that she just probably will never ask me anything ever again. 

Over the next few months, I learn just how close the Padalecki's and the Ackles' are as we tend to spend every holiday together and attend each other's kid's birthday parties.

Daneel continues to be cordial to me but doesn't inquire any further into my relationship with Gen and Jared. 

That may also be because after paparazzi got a photo of Gen and I at the store holding hands and ran with the story that Gen and Jared were obviously on the splits, the three of us sat down to an interview with People magazine and told the world that the Padalecki's marriage and relationship was still going strong and made it known that they were also in a relationship with me.

After that, the buzz of it all settled down and everything went back to semi-normal. There would be some gossip on the internet about us or we'd received unmarked mail containing threats of damnation but, with the help of my girlfriend and boyfriend, I learned to let it all slide.

People would always have their opinions. I just had to get used to them being different than my own. The world wasn't going to stop turning just because I was in a relationship with a married couple. 

A year to the day that Jared and Gen had entered my life when they visited Y/E/E found us all in the kitchen; Jared and Gen sitting at the counter while I cooked us an anniversary dinner.

"Can you believe it's been a year?" Gen says as I pull the roasted chicken from the oven. "One year since we decided to go out to eat and run into the most beautiful human we've ever seen."

"A year since you left your number on a piece of paper before we left and waited patiently for her to call," Jared continues. "One whole year of the most magnificent mind-blowing sex of my life!"

"A year since I thought you leaving your number was a prank or a mistake but texted it anyway. A year of….hell, the best year of my existence, " I tell them as I plate up the chicken, pasta and asparagus before turning and placing their plates in front of them.

"I love you both so much."

"We love you equally," Gen says before we set about eating the dinner I cooked. 

The kids were staying over at the Ackles' so we had the house to ourselves.

Jared cleared the kitchen after dinner and dessert while Gen and I went up to the bedroom to get ready in our matching lingerie that we purchased special for the occasion. 

"Jared is going to flip when he sees us," Gen says as she comes up behind me in the mirror. "Fuck, are we lucky. Sweetie you are absolutely gorgeous.  I can't wait to pull this off of you," she says kisses my shoulder, grazing her teeth across my skin. "With my teeth."

I shudder at the thought and reach back tangling my hand in her hair, kissing her passionately. 

"Same goes for you darling," I tell her as we hear Jared coming up the stairs.

Gen and I rush to get on the bed, laying back in nothing but lace and silk waiting for Jared to enter the bedroom.

"Fuck. Me!" he exclaims as he walks in and sees us. "God damn, baby girls, you're going to give this ole man a heart attack," he says, removing his shirt and unbuttoning his jeans. 

As we both promised, we put a show on for Jared; disrobing one another with nothing but our teeth and lips. 

Gen finally squirts after I bury my face in her sweet cunt, licking all around with my fingers knuckle deep inside her. Her breathing is labored as I pull away, leaving my fingers wiggling inside and turn my head to kiss Jared.

He groans as the tang of her juices mixed with my taste floods his mouth and I begin fingering Gen again, feeling her walls fluttering and quivering around them. 

"You like that Mama?" I ask as I pull away from my boyfriend. "You want more? I can recreate our first night."

"Fuck yes!" Gen screams. "Fist me baby."

I curl my fingers down and work my closed fist into her sopping wet pussy easily, twisting my wrist as she writhes above me. I lean down and suck her clit between my lips, flicking the nub with my tongue. 

"Shit! I'm going to cum again," she pants and I take my fingers and press against her sweet spot. Her thighs clamp around my head as she climaxes. 

Jared walks around behind me and I feel the swath of his tongue lick from my clit to my entrance and up to my ass. It isn't the first time he's ate me like that and it is erotic and obscene and I love it.

When Jared's tip notches at my opening, I wiggle my hips and he slaps his palm down on my asscheek. I moan as I lay my forehead against Gen's leg. Jared spanks me once more before he slams into me, burying his whole length in one thrust. 

"Oh fuck! Yes!" I yell out as he begins a pounding pace. His hands gripping my hips tight enough to leave bruises.

Gen finally recuperates enough to join in, kissing me senseless and whispering not-so-sweet nothings in my ear.

"Jared is fucking you real good ain't he? You're taking all that cock. You gonna let him put a baby in you? Yea you are, aren't ya? Get all big and round with a Padalecki growing in you. You want that? You want Jared to cum deep inside and impregnate you?"

"Uh huh," is all I can muster as Jared keeps pounding into me from behind, his balls bouncing up to slap my clit.

"Jared, put a baby in our baby girl. Fill her little pussy up."

"Yes Daddy. Please," I say, finally getting my voice.  "Please daddy put your baby in me."

"Oh god. Yea, I can do that. I can definitely do that."

"Mama?" I call out to Gen who lays down to meet my eyes.  "Are you sure? This is what you want?"

"Yes baby. I want to watch you grow our baby inside you. I love you sweet girl. And I know you'll be the best mom, you already are to Tom, Shep and O."

She smiles before capturing my lips with hers, wrapping her hand in my hair and tugging, making me whimper and whine.

Jared stills behind me as I feel his dick throbbing and spurting, filling me with his cum and hopefully getting me pregnant. It seems to go on and on before he finally slumps and pulls out of me, only to prod his softened dick back inside and thrusts, making sure the release goes where it needs.

If we made a baby together tonight or not,  I know these two beautiful people, my lovers, will be here with me through the celebration or if need be, the act of trying until we succeed. 

Six weeks later, I find myself peeing on a stick. I haven't told anyone but my period is about 8 days late and I've always been regular. 

I wait for the timer to go off on my phone, staring at the test laying facedown on the sink. Am I pregnant? Am I just late? But then if that's the case, why am I late? 

The device dings and I hesitantly reach for the test, turning it over to find out the result.

As I walk down the stairs, I hear my family in the front room laughing and just being goofy, none of them aware of what I hold in my hand. The small thin piece of plastic that is going to change everything. 

I stand at the doorway and just watch the five of them. I love them all so much and am grateful that they are now a part of my life. The kids accepted me and made me feel welcomed and loved from the very beginning and now they sometimes call me Mommy Y/N. It warms my soul when they utter those words. 

Jared and Genevieve. I never thought I could find a love like I have with them. It is an all-consuming love. They are so kind, caring and generous. The three of us are in love and we are about to bring another life into the mix. 

“Hey guys,” I call out getting their attention. Shep runs and wraps his arms around my waist and lays his head on my stomach, like he knows his new little brother or sister is growing inside me. But that can’t be, I haven’t said a word to anyone much less the kids.

I ruffle his hair and he looks up at me with a smile. “Why don’t you go sit on the sofa with your parents?” I request. “I have something to tell you all.”

“We’re having a baby,” I announce, not wanting to drag this out. I am happy, ecstatic even and I am hoping, ok I’m pretty sure this news will be accepted with joy. 

“What?” Gen exclaims, a smile blossoming on her face. “Really?”

“Yea,” I answer as I hold up the pregnancy test with the two bold blue lines. “I’m pregnant.”

Gen gently lifts O off her lap and jumps up, rushing to hug me and pulling me into a kiss. We’ve never hidden our relationship from the kids so to see their Mom and I kissing is no big deal to them.

When she pulls away, Gen looks at me with tears in her eyes. "We're having a baby?"

"Yea we are," I tell her, my own tears making themselves known. 

Suddenly Jared is pulling us both into his chest, his long strong arms holding us close.

"Where's the baby?" O asks as she looks around and in the floor. "I wann' see it."

We laugh as we break apart, going to join them on the sofa. 

I pull O onto my lap while Gen holds Shep and Tom is propped on his Dad's knee.

"The baby isn't born yet," I explain to my daughter. "He or she has to get big enough before it can come live with us. Right now, it's just a tiny little bean."

"I wann' see it," she repeats and I chuckle as I maneuver her around to straddle my thighs. I lift my shirt, exposing my stomach and take her hand to place under my belly button. "The baby is in here,  nice and warm and growing.”

Lil O’s eyebrows fuse together as she stares at the place her hand is and then she says, “Can I play with her when she gets here?”

I laugh and hear Gen and Jared chuckle.

“Of course you can sweetie,” I tell her. “But maybe not when she first gets here, she’ll be itty bitty.”

“She?” Jared says and I look at him. He practically has stars in his eyes with glee. 

“Well O called it a she so I just ran with it. Who knows, it could be a boy,” I say with a shrug. 

“I want a tyrannasaurus,” Shep declares. 

“Geez buddy,” I laugh as I look down at him. “You want me to explode? The baby is in my belly and you want it to be a dinosaur?”

“No, I wasn’t thinking about that,” Shep says, his voice remorseful.

“Hey Sheppy? It’s okay. I was just joking with you.”

“Okay,” he says as he reaches over and puts his hand on my stomach beside his sister’s. 

Before I know it I have three little palms against my skin, along with a slightly bigger one and a huge one over top of all of them; my family silently welcoming and loving on the new addition.

By the time Tom’s birthday comes around, I am huge! Gen had warned me that Padalecki’s were big babies but this is outrageous. I can't see my feet at all and need help to get out of bed every morning. This little one is making my life miserable but I know in the end, it will all be worth it.

We had decided against finding out the gender, mainly because I was still leery about how correct those results could be. So the five of us have begun referring to the bump as Baby P. And right now Baby P was kicking my kidneys and punching my liver. 

I still have almost a month before my due date of April 11 and it seems as if time is slowing down. Every day is a hurdle to get through, with being 8 months pregnant and still trying to help out around the house and do my chores, though both Gen and Jared have fussed at me for doing too much. But I’m pregnant, not disabled.

We’ve planned a barbeque party for Tom’s birthday and invited most of his friends from school, plus the Ackles and the Morgan’s and a few others from Jared’s time on the show. Both sets of grandparents are going to be here also, so it would definitely be a full house.

I am upstairs in the bedroom, trying to slide my sandals on but having trouble since I can’t see anything. Jared walks in while I huff and try again, only to push the shoe farther away.

“Hey baby,” he says gently. “Let me help you.”

“This is ridiculous,” I whine as he lifts my leg and slides the leather onto my foot. “I can’t do anything but waddle around, running into things and just getting in the way. I’m an annoyance to everyone. Maybe I should just stay up here.”

“You hush that right now,” he admonishes me, standing up to tower over me.  “You do not annoy anyone. You do not get in the way at all. You are pregnant, carrying my baby. You’re beautiful, baby girl. I love watching you, knowing that’s my child inside you; a life we created out of our love.” He tugs a stray hair behind my ear and tilts my chin up. “I love you. Gen loves you. Tom, Shep and O love you. We all love you and we love this baby. So get over yourself and get that cute little ass downstairs to celebrate our son’s birthday.”

“Cute and little is not how I would refer to my ass,” I retort with a smile. “I look like a Kardashian.”

“Mmhmm,” Jared mumbles as he leans down to kiss me. “More to spank.”

I chuckle as I tiptoe to kiss him and then turn to head downstairs to join my family and greet our guests.

The party is in full swing as most of the adults sit in lounge chairs, talking and catching up while Jared and Jensen man the grill and the ladies are in the kitchen gathering up the condiments and sides.

I have been commanded to stay in my seat and ask for anything I need. Jared went as far as to tell me if he saw me on my feet, he would spank me in front of everyone. And as much as I love him spanking me, that was something that no one else needed to see so I kept my promise, only asking that he give me a bottle of water for my stay.

Everyone seems to be having a good time; the kids are enjoying the gigantic bounce house that we rented and sat up in the backyard, the adults congregate on the patio talking and laughing and waiting for food.

I look around with a blissful heart at the family and friends I have acquired since becoming Jared and Gen’s lover. No one seems to bat an eye anymore about our relationship and took it at face value and that made me very happy. Sure, there were a few things still being said on the internet but those people don’t matter to me. What matters to me is the ones here today, celebrating our son’s birthday. 

A pain shoots through my body but as soon as it appears, it disappears so I think nothing of it and go back to watching Tom, Shep, JJ, and a few of their friends from school run around the yard playing tag. It’s a good day.

That good day turns when later that evening while the ones of us that are still lounging around, mostly family, my water breaks. Gerald and Sherri, Jared’s parents, stay at the house with the kids as Gen, Jared and I rush to the hospital.

In the early morning hours of March 18, we welcome Delaney Grace Padalecki, a whopping 9 pound 12 ounce baby girl. 

I thought I knew what love was, what love is but until I looked into my daughter’s eyes, I had had no idea. 

Love is infinite. Love is encompassing. Love is the glue that cements us all together. And I have found that with Gen and Jared and their-our-kids and now with Delaney. There is no way my life could be any richer. A once in a lifetime encounter gave me love and a family. 

THE END

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss​ @spnbaby-67​ @tftumblin​ @sea040561​ @delightfullykrispypeach​ @larajadeschmidt13​ @atc74​ @vicariouslythruspn​ @squirrelnotsam​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @sandlee44​ @blacktithe7​ @hoboal87​ @mogaruke​ @deanwanddamons​ @supraveng​ @deandreamernp​

[orangegreet]

Photo by Florian Olivo on Unsplash

The morning of the twin’s birthday, Alina woke from a fitful sleep.

Strange dreams colored her feelings and her ears rang with the sounds of a dark chanting verse that had haunted her thoughts and that she could not place.

Dreams aside, the incident in the study, too, left unresolved emotions which clung to her insides like sludge and would not go away.

Her mind reminded her again and again of that feeling of being pressed into the door by Lord Kirigan’s body.

The hard plane of his chest crushing her soft breasts. The heat of his breaths on her skin. His lungs pushing out, hers falling in.

The raw desire that blazed to life when she thought he was going to kiss her. The crashing humiliation after.

She should be disgusted.

Clearly, he had been so, given the way he threw her from the room and slammed the door. Left alone and without a candle to find her way back to her room.

Desperately, she searched for that anger toward him that she had been diligently collecting and storing for weeks on end. Holding it inside of her like a talisman against his pull, against the thrall he had on her.

By the time she had washed and dressed for the day, Alina found herself right side up again.

Completely prepared to go to his study and drag him to the party regardless of the state of their professional relationship.

********

Genya and Marie were finished setting the garden together, ready to receive the guests while Nadia and Tamar ran the food from the kitchen.

Alina exited the garden to go take a rest in the house before the party when she caught sight of a little white blur at the edge of the woods.

Lillian.

The little girl looked at her and then ran into the woods and out of sight.

Alina gathered her skirts in her hands and gave chase, “Lillian! Please slow down!”

Though she had not explored the woods much in her time at Blyth Fell, having been preoccupied with the garden in the first couple weeks and then quite busy with the children since, Alina was certain it would not be a completely safe place for a seven-year-old to venture into alone.

The white pinafore dress stood out against the shadowed woods and Alina just barely kept the girl in her line of sight even though she was losing her speed.

By the time she caught up, she found Lillian stopped in a small clearing, looking over her shoulder at Alina.

The governess approached slowly, hands aloft to say, ‘I come in peace’. Lillian turned away.

She was standing in front of a little stone block. Grass seed grew up close to it and Alina looked at Lillian and then sank to her knees, guessing what this was in an instance.

She brushed the weeds down, snapping them and breaking them away so the writing on the stone was legible.

LUDA ZENIK KIRIGAN

BELOVED WIFE & MOTHER

CHERISHED SISTER & FRIEND

The birthdate was some twenty years prior to the death date which was…today’s date, just seven years ago.

Alina stared at the words, moving slowly out of the way so Lillian could sit in front of the cleared space.

They sat in silence for a very long time.

So long that Alina wondered how close they were to the start of the party. Still, she waited for Lillian to say something first.

“My Aunt Nina said I look like her…that I have her eyes,” Lillian said eventually.

“Uncle Fedyor says she was very sweet so…” Lillian trailed away, wiping her nose on her sleeve and then sitting up straight again, “So I think Georgie must have gotten that part of her.”

Alina would have laughed if she did not feel so sorrowful in this moment.

The idea that the traits of your parents were doled out to the children like pieces of pie—that the total is finite—it was so child-like to believe that broke her heart to hear it.

“I am not so sweet,” Lillian said finally, scrunching her face and pulling up a blade of grass. “I am not like her really so I must be like him,” she said with disdain, “and that is why mother died. I am bad like him.”

Alina was careful not to refute the child outright, it would not be helpful. She was careful to make sure she understood. Instead she asked, “Why do you think she died?”

Lillian turned her gaze upon the governess, wide blue eyes shining and wet, “Georgie was born first and then me. She died because I was all tangled up in her belly.”

“And you think because you were born second, you caused her to die?” Alina asked.

Lillian nodded.

It was easy to forget sometimes that children had a higher threshold for morbidity. Much higher than adults. The way they could simplify life and death and boil it down into ‘if and then’ statements was shocking each time.

“I understand why you might think that, Lillian. I was not there when you were born but I do know now I am older that it is not babies who kill their mother’s in childbirth. It is just something that happens sometimes. It is not anyone’s fault.”

Lillian scrunched her face further and Alina continued, “You do not have to believe me right now but I do hope you will listen when I say, I know what it feels like to be without a mother. It is lonely and scary.” Alina stared at the headstone. “I wished to be held all the time when I was your age.”

Lillian glared at the ground, tears falling silent into the grass. A shuddering breath extracted from her mouth every few moments.

“You are not alone.” She finished.

Lillian wiped her nose on her sleeve again. Alina did not feel invited to touch the girl and so she waited.

Neither of them spoke for a few more minutes and then the little girl got to her feet.

“I-I am ready to go to the party now.” She left without a backward glance but Alina felt that something in their relationship had been resolved at last. Alina followed close behind her.

********

Despite the interlude in the woods and the tearful admissions, Lillian and George thoroughly enjoyed the festivities planned.

The joy and excitement from each of the attendees was contagious and each person had planned a special game or activity for the group.

Nadia and Tamar had made several special cakes with surprises inside. Something stuffed and hidden in each one as a little game.

Maxim coaxed Ivan into a race wherein the children were lifted onto their respective shoulders as each man raced across the yard.

Ivan won with a mad-cackling Lillian gripping his ears and spurring him forward like a tyrant. He looked more thrilled than she had ever seen him.

Alexei, Marie and Sergei had put their heads together to come up with the best parlor games and refused out right to play anything which had previously been deemed ‘boring’ by either of the twins.

This, Alina gathered, alluded to a game of charades played last winter which contained several references that went promptly over the children’s heads but which had the adults roaring in laughter. The twins had spent the hour bored and unamused and declared they would never play the game again.

Genya and Alina had gone into town and picked up a special gift for each child.

A skipping rope with wooden handles carved in delicate patterns and a kaleidoscope with colored glass beads inside. Alina had not yet been paid but Genya assured her this money was directly from the Lord himself since, to their knowledge at the time, he would not be in attendance.

It was unusual, to be sure, to see servants show such happiness and care for the children of the household but then, looking around, Alina realized that of all the people gathered here, one glaring fact seemed to be shared—none of them had homes or families to go back to anymore.

At least, not to her knowledge. A great many of them had confirmed their status in the world noting that either war or the cholera outbreak or simply poor living standards had left each of them quite alone in the world before coming to Blyth Fell.

It was a grim truth but one which seemed to bind them all here now.

Alina wondered idly how it was that they all happened to find employment here. It pressed on the definition of coincidental.

The only person conspicuously absent, aside from the Lord himself, was Misha.

Alina asked Alexei about this while the others were tasting cakes and he wrinkled his brow and looked away from her. “He had a rather, er…difficult evening. His duties sometimes are more challenging than…well he will be around for dinner tonight, I expect.”

Alexei patted her arm and walked away, inviting no further discussion on the matter.

********

As the hour passed and Lord Kirigan had not made his appearance, Alina contemplated the very real possibility that she would have to corner him in his study and frog march him into the garden.

She wondered briefly to feel bad about accosting the Lord last night now she knew today marked the anniversary of his wife’s death.

But then, the memory of Lillian’s tearful face as she stared at her mothers headstone and George’s pained tone when he inquired for weeks whether his father would return for his birthday, reinvigorated her.

And so, just as they slipped a blindfold over Lillian’s eyes for her turn in Blindman’s Bluff, Alina resigned herself to her duty and slipped away to collect their father.

She made it halfway across the yard when she saw him.

Lord Kirigan appeared around the broadside corner of the house, walking toward the garden and fumbling with an oddly shaped box in his arms.

Alina warmed at the sight of him and promptly blamed it on the sun which was currently hidden in the overcast sky.

She was, however, pleased to see that he looked very nervous. At least this indicated some amount of care and concern for the children.

“Where are you going?” The Lord asked, sharply. “Is the party no longer in the garden?”

Alina straightened her posture, “Of course it is. I was simply heading inside to…fetch a few extra napkins—”

The box in hands emitted a strange noise and she thought for a moment she saw it tipping in his hand.

He grabbed a strong hold on it and called back, “Come along then, Miss Starkova. Some gifts do not keep well and we do not want this day to spoiled by another ill omen.”

His words relieved her lingering tension. He meant to act as if last night had not happened at all and Alina was content with this decision.

She turned in the opposite direction and led the way into the garden, her excuse with the napkins well forgotten until she was already back inside the walls.

The shock at the sudden appearance of Lord Kirigan was written on the faces of everyone in the garden caused a laugh to bubble up her throat.

The Lord glared at her and then turned back to the children.

George was beside himself at his father’s presence, hugging him then standing on the table to press the kaleidoscope over his father’s eye and twist it for him.

Lillian looked neither pleased nor dismayed. The vulnerability she had displayed this morning lingered around her and she simply accepted his presence without many words or interaction to follow. Reserving her judgement for later.

As the children opened the box from their father and exclaimed over the little orange kitten inside, Alina wondered later if the ‘ill omen’ to which Lord Kirigan had referred was an allusion to the anniversary of his wife’s passing or if it was a reference to that dead pet of hers, the pony in the bog.

Alas she would not be able to ask him with the excitement and horror of what would follow later that day.

********

The party itself was very successful and though Lord Kirigan did not participate in any of the games but rather took a seat next to Ivan, he did help himself to a few cakes left near his reach.

Alina watched him with covert eyes and relished the image of icing on the corner of his surly mouth. An image which she could save up for some inevitable moment in the future when he would try to intimidate her again.

The break in the games was welcome as the kitten was passed around to be cuddled.

Maxim disappeared to the stables and reappeared with a long piece of leather and brutally removed an aster bloom to attach to the end. He handed it to Lillian who dragged it around for the kitten, urging it to pounce.

Alina lingered near Genya as they watched when a shouting occurred from the door to the garden.

“It’s ready now and today is the perfect day to try and so if you could all gather in a line, we can put it to the test!”

Alina turned toward the newest party attendee.

A young man with dark hair holding a large box and setting up what looked like a three legged stool.

Looking around, Alina was not the only one confused but the others, at least, recognized the man and began to laugh. Genya was flushed as she pulled on Alina’s arm and directed her to stand near the end of the group.

“Genya, what is going on?” Genya looked distracted and did not seem to hear Alina. It was Nadia who answered.

“That is our Mr. Kostyk. He is a business partner of Lord Kirigan’s. He does actually live under this roof with us but I suppose this might be the first time you have seen him in person.”

Something clicked into place and Alina nodded. The man in the workroom who received his meals hand-delivered by the grace of Genya.

“And what is happening now?” Alina asked. Genya moved along the line, arranging people into view and pulling the children to stand in front of their father.

The kitten did not seem to want to still in their hands so it was shoved into Ivan’s arms who accepted it with a grunt.

Nadia smiled at the sight of Ivan and answered, “It seems Mr. Kostyk has engineered yet another device to try to get a portrait taken.”

“A portrait?” Alina asked as Mr. Kostyk was setting his box on top of the three-legged stand and hiding beneath a heavy black curtain behind the box.

“It’s something of a family business for Lord Kirigan,” Nadia explained. “The late Lord Kirigan and his business partner also worked on the inventions and would also have the people in the house to test out his progress. Or so I hear.”

She arranged the hair around her shoulders, “Although Genya says some of those models required sitting for thirty minutes at a time so I can only hope Mr. Kostyk does not expect that right now.”

“Look this way,” Mr. Kostyk pointed at the black circle in the middle of his box, “and do not move, if you please!”

They stood still for a few minutes, long enough that the children began to shift their feet in boredom.

Ivan held the cat in place and Alina, on the other end let her mind wander as she contemplated this inventor from the workroom and his patron, Lord Kirigan. She had seen examples of these paint-less portraits in London, of course, but never imagined she would be the subject of one.

When Mr. Kostyk was done, he stood and smiled at them all, not really seeing them and said goodbye with a short wave. Then he was gone as quickly as he had come. Alina giggled and wondered if he had been there at all.

Lord Kirigan watched Mr. Kostyk’s retreating back and then followed the man out of the garden, effectively leaving the party as well.

Alina frowned and glanced at the children. Lillian took the blow stoically and went back to her cake. George looked distressed once more but Ivan plopped the kitten in front of him in the next moment and he was well distracted.

********

When the party was over, Alina gathered the children to go inside for a rest. As they passed the edge of the woods again, however, Lillian spoke.

“I want to go back to my mother.” She said.

George hesitated and Alina surveyed him. “All right, let us take George inside and then you and I can go back out.”

“No.”

Lillian looked at George and took his hand, “Let us go, Georgie, please. I want to go with you.” George looked fearful but nodded.

It was hard to explain the distinct feeling of foreboding Alina felt upon entering the woods now.

It was still as dark and shadowed as it had been in the morning but now there was something in the air which was disquieting. Alina wrapped her hands on either of the children’s shoulders as they walked the same path toward that small clearing.

They had been walking for a few minutes when George stopped again, shaking his head and looking at his sister. “Lillian, I don’t want to go.”

Lillian scowled at him, tugging on his arm, “You have to, you have to come see mother, with me. Please, Georgie. Just once.”

George was shaking his head and staring past the thinning trees, fear widening his eyes.

They were in sight of the little clearing now and even through the trees, Alina looked to where she knew the gravestone sat.

Only the place where she knew the stone sat, the place where she herself sat just this morning, was covered in dark shadow.

Alina squinted, trying to discern what she was seeing and she stared, the black mass thickened.

It grew and spread like a dense, black smoke, covering half the clearing like a slow-moving predator.

A frisson of fear shot through her body and inexplicably she thought of the chanting from her dreams and more words bubbled into her throat and she prayed to Alatyr with a fierce concentration.

While she was distracted George took off on the path back toward the house.

“George, wait!” Alina called, pausing only to take Lillian’s hand in hers as they ran after the little dark-haired boy.

“George, wait for us!” Lillian shouted, sounding fearful herself.

He turned a corner and slipped from their sight and Alina panicked at the realization that he was taking a different path. One that did not lead them back to the house.

“George, stop! You are going the wrong way!”

They followed, turning the corner and he came into sight yards ahead. He stood stock-still.

“Georgie?”

His hands were up in front of him and as they drew closer, Alina saw a thick black mass rising before the boy’s body like a snake from a basket.

Was it a snake?

The woods were so dark, it was difficult to see for sure but Alina thought it’s shape was distinctly snake-like.

“Stay still, George.” Alina cautioned. She held Lillian in place with a sharp look and began to slowly approach the quivering little boy.

She was not sure what to do. Did not understand what she was seeing. Not exactly.

The snake rose up to eye level with George.

It reared back.

The boy threw his arm over his face and the snake struck with a whip-like movement.

“George!” Alina yelled, running forward to grab his shoulders as he screamed out.

It echoed around the forest and bounced off the trees and Alina held him in her lap as he continued to scream and cradle his arm.

Frantic, Alina looked around for the creature and saw nothing but dead leaves crushed on the forest floor. Everything was still and silent save the screaming from the boy in her lap.

“Let me see, Georgie,” she soothed, trying to move his hand to get a look at his arm.

George whimpered and cried and Alina gaped at the mark.

Two little puncture wounds on his pale little forearm, seeping black liquid like ink running down a page.

[trashmenofmarvel]

Branded - Chapter 23

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Christmas morning finally arrives, and you and Bucky come to a decision.

(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by @araniaart​ . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)

Chapter Warnings: Mild sexual content, fluff, mild angst, references to asexuality

AO3

Whether by habit or some instinctual memory of being back in this room on this day, your body knew to wake you up at the crack of dawn, which would have been a bummer if not for one important fact.

You were warmly tucked within the embrace of one sleeping demon. Definitely sleeping this time because his wings were draped over you like a blanket and his tail was looped snug around your leg.

Closing your eyes and releasing a sigh, you reveled in the warm security of Bucky’s chest pressed against your back. Neither of you had bothered to get dressed after last night, and all of him was pressed against you in the best way. You were on the edge between vibrating out of your skin in nervous energy and melting into a puddle from the intimate contact.

Perhaps your silent agitation woke him, because Bucky nosed against your neck and gave a raspy “morning” as he stretched and hugged you closer.

“M-morning,” you returned, stuttering while his stiffening cock pressed against your ass. Falling asleep naked was, in hindsight, not the wisest idea.

“Uh, sorry—“

Bucky began to roll away but you snatched his arm in time and draped it back over your waist.

“It’s fine, really, just… stay a little while?”

Bucky paused then rolled back the rest of the way, and you sighed at the return of warmth.

“We… we should probably talk about this…”

“Later.”

You rolled onto your other side until you were facing him and got an amazing view of his collarbone. Nuzzling against his chest, you made a satisfied hum in your throat.

Bucky let out a breathless laugh and ran his fingers through your hair. The humming intensified.

“You’re like a cat,” he remarked, his other hand tracing along the curve of your spine. “Craving warmth and attention.”

“I’m not the one with pointy ears and a tail.”

You gave the hollow dip at the base of his throat a lick for good measure. He stiffened and groaned, his cock now at full mast and pressed against your hip.

“Are you… uh… still hungry?” you asked, clearing your throat when your voice cracked like a teenage boy.

“Mmmm nope. Still very full from last night. This is… all you.”

Face on fire, you buried your face deeper in his neck. Bucky just laughed, the rumbling sound both comforting and rekindling the warmth in your gut.

“We should probably get up,” he sighed into your hair, then chuckling at your muffled groan. “I don’t want to leave this bed either, but… we’ll have lots of time once we get back to the city to…”

He trailed off at you staring up at him with big, wide eyes. His cheeks flushing pink was a rare, wonderful sight.

“We get to do this more?” you asked, daring not to hope. “Not just for feedings?”

He swallowed hard and licked his lips, tempting you to taste them again. You didn’t know how you would manage to keep your hands to yourself now that you knew what this was like.

“That’s what we should talk about.”

You huffed and let your forehead smash into the pillow. He rubbed your back sweetly but was definitely grinning down at you as he said, “You’re the one who said we should communicate more clearly.”

“Ugghhh,” was your answer muffled by the pillow.

Bucky smiled and kissed the top of your head, the amused, fond expression never quite leaving his face as the two of you got dressed. You couldn’t help sneaking glances at him; with or without the guise, his body was a goddamn meal in every sense of the word.

Coming downstairs meant you were met with the strong smell of pancakes, cinnamon, and hazelnut wafting through the house. Your mom and aunt were both working on breakfast, while your uncle shoveled the driveway and walkway  to clear the snow from the night.

Bucky volunteered to help him, and with a parting kiss on the crown of your head, he put on his windbreaker and disappeared out the front door.

Unlike all the other gestures of affection put on for show, this one left you flushed with a pounding heart. The knowing glance your mother and aunt shared made the heat in your face worse, but at least they were merciful enough to keep their comments to themselves.

Just kidding.

“Jacob seems very nice,” your mother said in that way mothers had of doing trying to prod for more information and thought they were being sneaky. “Will we get to see him over more holidays?”

You were in the middle of retrieving cartons of grapes, kiwis, and persimmons from the fridge in order to help make the fruit salad when you froze. Having Bucky over for… holidays? You jumped forward to other questions. What about birthday parties? Next holiday season?

How long was the shelf life of a demon pact? You couldn’t remember what the book had said, if anything.

“Sweetie?”

You blinked, struggled to form a steady smile, and turned back to the fruit when it didn’t quite work.

“Yeah, hopefully,” you answered weakly.

She shuffled closer and you could sense her staring, the weight of her concern pressing on your shoulders.

“Is everything all right?” she asked.

The fruit cartons were cold in your hands, and the cool water you used to wash them with did nothing to stop the chill creeping over you.

“Course, Mom. Why?”

“Well…” She stood next to you to take the washed fruits and chop up the larger ones on the cutting board. “Because I know at the beginning of these things, when everything is new and intense, it can be a little… scary.”

You snorted. Now there was an understatement.

“But I know it’s going to all work out,” she said. “With Jacob, or whatever’s going on in your life, it’ll be okay. I just… have a feeling about it.”

You nodded and ducked your head, fighting back the sudden well of tears when your mother reached over and hugged you against your side as if you were a little kid again.

“But if anything is bothering you, I want you to tell me.” She squeezed your arm, and you smiled despite yourself. “Even if there’s nothing I can do, I’m your mother and I want to know.”

You did want to tell her, so badly. You gave another weak nod and a thanks, Mom so she’d leave the subject alone. You didn’t know where this surge of emotions was coming from, but everything felt too heavy and too much. It was Christmas morning, everyone was safe and healthy, and there was no reason you should be on the verge of crying into the fruit salad.

As soon as Bucky returned with your uncle and settled his gaze on you, his brows creased and he frowned. But there was no time to talk; your sister and her family had arrived, and it was a gentle sort of pandemonium after that. Embraces and excited conversation as everyone gathered around the tree. There were no children left in the family, with the exception of your two month old nephew, but it was a tradition you continued long after childhood.

Bucky kept shooting you concerned glances throughout the entire gathering, even after you decided to drop your own problems and focus on your family’s happiness. Your aunt and uncle were avid outdoors explorers, so shopping for them had been easy. Binoculars, survival gear, hiking boots, all pretty standard stuff. Your mother and sister had been harder, but some cute t-shirts and new books from their favorite authors had done the trick.

You were still bothered by the fact you hadn’t given Bucky anything. Last night had been something out of a fantasy, and that was before you’d managed to get Bucky into bed, and not having a gift for him was unacceptable.

After all the presents were opened and everyone got comfortable around the living room in what you recognized would be hours of slightly boring, adult conversation, Bucky caught your eye and nudged his chin towards the backdoor. Nodding discretely, you excused yourselves with the reason that you were going for a walk, and grabbed Bucky’s hand to lead him into the backyard.

You’d barely been outside ten seconds before Bucky sighed, turned right back around, and disappeared inside with the instructions to sit tight. You rolled your eyes when he reappeared with your jacket and beanie in hand.

“I’m not going to die of exposure from being out in the snow for a few minutes underdressed,” you griped.

“Uh-huh.” Bucky ignored you as he shoved the beanie over your head and used your flailing to slip your arms through the sleeves.

“You’re such a mother hen.”

“Well, one of us has to look out for you.”

“I am. Perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” You shook your finger at him.

“Uh-huh.” He grabbed you and lifted you up in his arms. “Is that why you couldn’t bother to put slippers on before going out in the snow?”

You buried your face in his chest so Bucky couldn’t see your expression. So what if you’d been so distracted you’d basically run outdoors in your pajamas?

He smirked and carried you to the old swing set you hadn’t been on since you were a kid. Only two seats, it had been built by your uncle soon after your sister had been born. It was one of your favorite childhood spots, and as Bucky set you down on one of the swings, you wondered if he knew that.

Bucky sat on the other swing and immediately picked up your legs and put them into his lap. You opened your mouth to complain, but closed it again. Bucky was softly smiling at you, and you couldn’t remember him ever looking so… happy.

“So…” You wiggled your legs and focused on your wet socks rather than your feelings. “Is this why you lured me away? You wanted to play on the swing set?”

You expected Bucky to be flustered or embarrassed by your teasing. Instead, he leaned across the small space and pulled your legs at the same time so you were practically sitting sidesaddle in his lap. He grinned at your shocked expression.

“No. But now that you bring it up…”

Bucky closed the last few inches and captured your lips in a soft, light kiss. It still hit you like a ton of bricks and you would have fallen backwards off your swing if Bucky hadn’t been there to wrap his arms around you.

You were in a daze by the time you separated. He chuckled at your expression but didn’t move far, and you were tempted to kiss him again.

“We still have to talk.”

You scrunched up your nose.

“Must we?” you asked. “Or should we make out instead.”

Bucky grinned wide enough to show perfectly white teeth.

“Maybe after.”

“I’m listening,” you said with your best innocent, attentive look. Bucky didn’t buy it, but he did kiss you on the tip of your nose before leaning back a more appropriate distance. Disappointing.

“Last night was…” Bucky’s gaze dropped, a thumb absently rubbing circles into your knee. “I don’t have words for it. It was incredible and amazing…

“But…” You exhaled heavily and leaned your forehead against the cold chain of the swing. Here was the it’s not you, it’s me talk. This was exactly why you didn’t want to have this discussion—

“But.” His other hand squeezed your leg, gently, to catch your attention. When he had it, he said, “I want to be a hundred percent certain it’s what you want.”

Oh. Not quite what you’d expected.

“Bucky… It’s… of course it’s what I want.” The words tumbled out of you before you could stop them. “I’ve wanted this for a while now and didn’t have the guts to express that until last night.”

“Huh.” He blinked, mouth slightly ajar as if he’d never considered that before. “I... I’m asking because the bond makes things a lot more complicated. How do we know what’s binding magic and what’s… I mean… even if it’s not the bond, we’re still forced to have sex, and it’s easy to get attachments when you—“

You didn’t mean to let the giggle escape, but once it had, Bucky stared at you like you’d grown a second head. The confused-Bucky-face didn’t help, either.

“I’m not… not laughing at you,” you said, smiling. “I’m laughing because I think I understand what you’re worried about, and Bucky? That’s not what’s going on here.”

Bucky searched your face and frowned.

“But how do you know that?” he asked. “You could be confusing the feelings from sex for something else. Something more.”

Your smile widened as you struggled not to laugh again. You really didn’t want Bucky to take it the wrong way, misunderstand it for the relief it was.

“I know because my brain doesn’t work like that. Never has,” you said. “I don’t get ‘sexual feelings’ from looking at attractive people. Having sex with them wouldn’t change that. So… I’m trying to say, I don’t like you because of the bond, or the sex. I like you apart from all that. One’s got nothing to do with the other.”

He stared at you so long you fidgeted under his gaze.

“Is that why you haven’t been in many relationships?”

You winced and buried your face in your hands. Sometimes, you forgot this was the guy who’d been watching over you most of your life and knew you better than anyone.

Gentle hands pulled your arms away from your face, his expression kind and a little bit sad.

“It’s not a judgement,” he said quietly. “I always wondered why you were alone. Couldn’t understand it.”

You couldn’t meet his eye, the tightness in your chest suffocating, bordering on painful. All those years you’d been alone, believing you’d always be that way, never knowing Bucky existed. Countless nights you’d curled up in bed, heart aching with loneliness, and he’d been out there just… thinking about you?

Bucky wasn’t the only one with a low sense of self-worth. You just buried yours better.

“Yeah.” You swallowed hard. “I don’t feel attracted to people very often. And when I do, it just… doesn’t work out.”

Your stomach clenched and you wondered if you might barf right there in the snow, or worse, on Bucky’s lap. You hadn’t expected to have this conversation, not so soon and not here. You weren’t prepared for it, for his inevitable rejection. For the pity in his eyes as he finally understood.

“Or I��m not what they want.” Your voice was flat. Clinical. In direct opposition to the anxiety buzzing under your skin. “It’s as simple as that. I don’t blame anyone for wanting something I can’t give them. It’s… it’s no one’s fault…”

Despite the familiar words you had recited to yourself over and over, your vision blurred. You tried to retract your arms out of Bucky’s grip, but he pulled you forward against his chest and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. The swing slipped out from under you, and now you really were in his lap. He didn’t seem to mind as he rubbed your back and propped his chin on top of your hair.

“It’s all right,” he said, low and comforting. “I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

“You didn’t.” You pressed closer against his chest, barely feeling the freezing temperature while wrapped in Bucky’s warmth. “I just want you to know that if I’m not what you want, then… bond or not, you don’t owe me anything.”

Bucky slowly pulled back and cupped your cheeks in his gloved hands, one stiffer than the other. His eyes were so gentle it was hard to breathe.

“I believe that’s my line.”

You rolled your eyes, if only so you wouldn’t start crying like a baby. You hadn’t realized how much emotional weight you’d been carrying until now.

“You’re stuck with me, Barnes. I told you that.”

He stroked your cheek, his gaze suddenly very far away as if he was seeing something else.

“And I made a promise a long time ago that I would always protect you,” he said. “Which I will continue to do, no matter where this goes or what happens between us.

“But,” he added, leaning forward, eyes sparkling with warmth, “I’m also extremely selfish and hoping we can continue what we’ve started. Whatever you’re willing to give me, whatever you’re comfortable with sharing, will be more than enough for me. Because you are more than enough for me.”

Great, now your eyes were burning for a totally different reason. Your anxiety had vanished, but now it felt like this burning affection was going to burst out of your chest like a baby xenomorph.

Before you could wonder if Bucky had seen any of the Alien series, and would you be able to rope him into watching them with you, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to the corner of his mouth.

And then you ruined the tender moment by grinning like an idiot and chirping, “So-o-o-o does that make you my demon boyfriend?”

“Oh, my God.”

“And me, your adorable human girlfriend?”

He wrapped his arms around your lower back and leaned away to give you a narrow-eyed glare.

“Yes.” He ended the syllable on a slight hiss, narrowing his eyes further when you grinned. “You might regret this, you know.”

“I regret getting out of bed every day. You?” You grinned. “No. Not a chance I’ll regret you.”

“I’m not sure whether to be assured or worried.”

You gave him a sympathetic pat on the cheek.

“Millennial humor. You’ll get used to it.”

Bucky leaned forward, his mouth suddenly very close, making you flush in record time.

“You do realize your generation did not invent fatalistic humor.”

“Yeah? Tell me more, Gramps.”

The crash of his lips against yours might have been a form of payback for your smart mouth, but you welcomed it gladly.

Next Chapter

[refinedbuffoonery]

Mr. & Mrs. Claus

You should know that I wrote this whole thing just for the bad pick-up line Mac uses. And then I got hit with major baby fever while writing the end and....you’ll see.  Merry Christmas, y’all! ❤ 

Established MacRiley AU

*****

Riley’s only warning to Mac’s arrival was the slam of the front door before he yelled, “I’ve got the rings!” His boots clunked on the hardwood floor as he walked down the hall to their bedroom. “Let me get dressed and then we can go—” 

Riley met Mac’s eyes in the bathroom mirror. He stood in the doorway, slack-jawed, taking in the full effect of her costume. Smiling to herself, Riley finished applying her mascara, arching her back and sticking her ass out for his benefit. 

Mac cleared his throat. “Wow. You look incredible.” 

She twirled to give him the full effect. The stretchy, ribbed material of her off-white sweater dress clung to her body, stopping just below her knees and leaving nothing to the imagination. Her favorite black, high-heeled boots gave the outfit just a bit of edge. But the real showstopper was her coat—crimson velvet trimmed with fake fur, swirling gold and silver embroidery, elegant bell sleeves. It even had pockets. 

“This is my favorite part.” Clasping her hands behind her back, Riley swayed back and forth, watching the bottom of the knee-length coat swish like a bell. 

“It’s stunning,” Mac said, still a little stunned himself. He finally closed the gap between them. “You’re the hottest Mrs. Claus in LA.” 

“Literally,” Riley joked. “This outfit is toasty, and in case you didn’t realize, it’s definitely not cold outside.” According to her phone, the high was supposed to be 74 degrees. 

Mac rubbed her arms. “In all seriousness though, you look beautiful.” 

Even after all this time, Riley still blushed. “Thank you,” she murmured against his lips as she pulled him down for a quick kiss. 

She sat on the bed, unashamedly checking her boyfriend out while he changed into his own Santa costume to match hers. He fished around in the pocket of his discarded jeans and pulled out a pair of rings. “Matty said we, and I quote, have to return these to the Phoenix tomorrow, so no using them to build a homing beacon or something.” 

“Got it,” Riley said dryly. “No homing beacon.” She reached for her ring, but Mac seemed to have other ideas. He handed her his ring instead—a white gold band with a thin, but ornate border. 

Mac spoke in a deep, announcer-like voice. “We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Mr. and Mrs. Claus. Mrs. Claus, you may go first.” 

Riley held his left hand in hers, playing along. “Do you, Santa Claus, take me to be your wife?” She tried to be serious, but her lips curled into a smile without her consent. 

“I do.” Riley slid the ring on. Mac continued, “Do you, Mrs. Claus, take me to be your husband?” 

Riley made a show of thinking it over first. “I do.” He slid the ring—an engagement ring and wedding band fused together—onto her finger. She’d worn it before. Like Mac’s, it was white gold, but the tiny diamonds set into the bands made it glitter in the light. The engagement ring part had a princess cut diamond surrounded by more tiny diamonds, making the whole thing walk the fine line between opulent and gaudy. 

She looked up, and Mac’s soft smile made her want to melt in a puddle. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he announced, lacing their fingers together. 

“Okay.” Riley wrapped her arms around his neck. “You do that.” 

*****

They drove Riley’s Jeep to the hospital, since someone forgot to go to the gas station on his way home, and they were already late. They’d gotten a little distracted after their fake wedding. 

Mac rested his hand on Riley’s thigh while she drove. She leaned away from him, resting her left elbow on the door and holding the top of the steering wheel with her right. When Mac didn’t take the hint and started caressing her thigh instead, Riley batted his hand away. 

“Oh no,” she scolded. “We are not doing this right now.” Mac pouted in the passenger seat. 

They arrived at the hospital, hauling two massive bags of presents with them. The hospital administrator met them in the lobby to escort Riley and Mac to the children’s wing, thanking them and the think tank profusely for the entire duration of the walk.  She and Mac exchanged the same sly look they always did when someone referred to the Phoenix as a think tank.

Meeting the kids went by in a blur. Altogether too many young, bright faces swarmed the waiting room, clamoring to meet Santa and Mrs. Claus. With each kid she met, Riley was in awe of how they were all so positive and happy and full of laughter, even though many of them were so sick and would be spending Christmas in the hospital. 

The kids gravitated to Mac like moths to a flame. He sat and talked to each one, asking how they were doing and what they wanted for Christmas. They asked him ridiculous questions, like what snacks the elves like best and who his favorite reindeer was. In a classic Mac moment, he explained to a wide-eyed group of ten-year-olds that male reindeer lose their antlers every winter, so his reindeer are actually all females. 

Every time Mac walked past—which Riley suspected was far more times than necessary—he squeezed her arm or grazed a hand down her back, and Riley couldn’t help the smile curling her lips each time he did it. 

After a while, Riley gathered the kids and read a picture book version of ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas. Pausing to show her young, captivated audience the pictures, she flicked her gaze to Mac. He stood in the back of the room with his arms crossed in a very un-Santa-like manner, chatting softly with one of the pediatricians. The rainbow lights of the Christmas tree behind him cast him in a warm, pink glow. 

The kid closest to her tugged on her coat, and Riley turned her attention to the girl. She was probably ten or so, with intense, dark eyes that probably never missed a thing. Including Riley’s wandering attention, apparently. “Are you checking out Santa?” she questioned. 

Caught. Riley cleared her throat. “Um—” Giggles erupted throughout her audience. “So what if I am? He’s very handsome.” 

The girl scrunched up her face. “Gross!” Riley joined in on the second wave of giggles before returning to the story. 

Later, after the chaos of opening presents, the adults rounded up all the kids and settled in to watch Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. The hospital administrator set it up so the movie projected on an empty wall. Mac pulled up a pair of chairs behind the projector and motioned for Riley to sit. Lacing their fingers together, Mac leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Thank you for doing this with me.” His expression was raw and unguarded. 

Riley squeezed his hand twice in response. “Are you kidding me? I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” 

They’d barely made it ten minutes into the movie when the shyest kid—a six-year-old boy wearing Spider-Man pajama pants who looked like a tiny version of Bozer—crawled into Riley’s lap. The boy didn’t say a word; he simply nuzzled his face into Riley’s shoulder and wrapped his tiny arms around her waist. Riley let go of Mac’s hand to pull the boy into her chest, where he fell asleep for the remainder of the movie. 

Afterward, Riley carried the boy back to his room while Mac started to say goodbye to the other kids. They’d been there more than half the day, and for many of the kids, it was time for blood tests or scans or chemo. Or maybe just a nap. 

Riley hugged the last kid goodbye with a bittersweet smile on her face. The little boy in her arms was so young, four or five at the most. Behind him, his mom mouthed, Thank you.

When the boy finally let go, Riley looked him square in the eye. "You be good, okay?" He giggled, nodding furiously before returning to his mom.

The boy and his mom walked away, leaving Riley and Mac alone in the waiting room. Riley stared after them. That had to be so hard, watching your kid have seizure after seizure and then spending days in the hospital, waiting for answers the doctors didn't have.

"Riles." Mac's low voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "You okay?"

She blinked. "Yeah, I was just thinking about that kid."

"I know," Mac sighed, rubbing his face. "He asked me if I could stop his seizures for Christmas."

Riley's heart clenched. "What did you say?"

"I told him I'd try my best."

Riley swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat. Without thinking, she drifted into Mac's embrace, hands finding purchase on his chest and resting her cheek on his shoulder. His arms circled her, pulling her tightly against him.

She couldn't string the right words together to describe how she was feeling. Sorrow, for the kid whose childhood was now destined to be filled with doctors and hospital trips. Empathy, for the single mom trying her best to remain positive for her kid's sake. Admiration, for the way Mac smiled reassuringly at the little boy despite the tears welling in his eyes. Riley settled for, "I love you." She kissed Mac's cheek.

Pressing his lips to the crown of her head, he said, "I love you too."

They stayed like that for a long time, only parting when Riley said, "Let's clean up and go home."

Remnants of wrapping paper and plastic packaging littered the floor—all that was left from the bag of presents they'd brought. Well, that and the glitter. The ungodly amount of glitter that was, to Riley's horror, everywhere.

She picked up a wad of half-crumpled wrapping paper, sending a flurry of gold glitter airborne. Most of it landed on her clothes. Great. She'd be finding those damn gold flecks for months.

Mac chuckled behind her. She whirled on him. "It's not funny!" she said with mock offence, sticking her tongue out at him.

But he wasn't looking at her face. His eyes tracked her every movement, lingering on the places where her off-white sweater dress hugged her curves beneath her long, red coat.

Riley made a show of brushing the glitter off her dress, starting from her knees and working upward, drawing Mac’s attention with her movement. When Mac's gaze finally reached her eyes, she winked before resuming not-so-innocently picking up wrapping paper. Riley kept her back to him, waiting for Mac to make the next move. 

Hands locked on her waist. Mac tugged her closer, his lips grazing her ear as he spoke. "I'd put myself on the naughty list for you."

Smirking, she replied, "Oh really." Riley glanced over her shoulder and had barely even realized Mac's face was still right there when his lips landed on hers, and he spun her to face him fully. The pile of wrapping paper she was holding fell to the ground at their feet, covering their boots in more glitter.

The kiss wasn't very good. Riley couldn't stop smiling, no matter how hard she tried to pull herself together enough to kiss him back instead of bursting out laughing. I'd put myself on the naughty list for you. He said that as if he were on the nice list in the first place. They broke way too many laws on a weekly basis for that to be true. Not to mention, Mac's non-consensual cell phone breaking alone was enough to put him on the naughty list for life.

"Are you just going to keep grinning like an idiot, or are you actually going to kiss me back?" he teased.

It took all of her concentration to pull off even the most chaste kiss. A little too eagerly for being in a hospital waiting room, Mac sucked on her lower lip and slid his tongue into her mouth, his hands sliding under her coat and caressing her sides.

Riley had just gotten it together enough to slip her own tongue in without getting a mouthful of teeth or fake beard when she heard a faint giggle. Her eyes snapped open, and she saw the cutest little girl peeking around a Christmas tree. 

“Santa, we have an audience,” she warned. 

Mac pulled away, blushing faintly, but his hands lingered on Riley’s stomach for an extra second. He gestured for the little girl to come closer. Sheepishly, she rolled out from behind the tree. Tinsel covered every available inch of her wheelchair, and the wheels lit up when she rolled in a way that reminded Riley of the light-up sneakers that were popular when she was a teenager. Not that she'd actually owned a pair, of course.

Mac squatted in front of the girl, whose wild blonde curls were equally unruly as Riley's own hair. "Were you spying on us?"

"Maybe," she said with a shrug.

Mac twisted to look at Riley. I like her. "What do you think, Mrs. Claus?" he asked. "Do spies get put on the naughty list?"

Yes. She winked. "I think this one can stay on the nice list. She managed to sneak up on Santa, after all. Very impressive."

The kid beamed. She had no idea.

"Yes," Mac said slowly, "very impressive." He turned back to the girl. "So, what do you want for Christmas?"

The girl listed a whole bunch of presents, claiming she wanted to give Santa options. Mac listened intently, nodding at all the right points.

Something warm bloomed in Riley's chest as she watched the scene unfolding in front of her. To say Mac was good with kids would be an understatement. When a kid spoke to him, he always gave them his full, undivided attention and took every word very seriously. When a kid was being serious, Mac was serious, and when a kid was acting silly, Mac would be twice as silly. And as a result, he could crack even the shyest and grumpiest of kids, and, more importantly, they would trust him. 

A thought popped into Riley's head. I want to have his babies. As if her body was reiterating what it already knew and her brain had just figured out, her hands unconsciously drifted to her abdomen. 

The same spot Mac's hands hands had lingered a minute ago, she realized with a start. Did...did he want kids with her too?

Riley wanted kids—she wanted kids with Mac—but she also knew that neither of them were ready to give up their job. They couldn’t keep doing what they did with a kid in the world. After growing up with absentee parents, they’d never risk leaving their kid to grow up without one or both parents. 

But when the time finally comes, when she and Mac are ready to trade in getting shot at and making stuff explode for stability and mundane normalcy, she won’t be able to wait any longer to start a family with him. 

She waited until they were in the Jeep before broaching the subject of kids. Tentatively, she began, "What were you thinking about back there when you put your hands on my stomach?" The look on his face then said he was definitely thinking about something, but Riley didn't want to assume what. 

Mac dodged her question. "Sorry, I didn't realize I did it." 

Riley knew that was a white lie, but she didn't call him on it. He'd answer honestly in his own time. Since it was too big a subject to outright ask him, Riley took a more subtle route instead. “Do you see yourself having kids?” 

His eyes widened in response. “You know I want kids.” 

That wasn’t what she meant. Wanting them and actively reshaping your life in order to have them were completely different things. “Yeah, but do you see yourself settling down, getting a safe, normal job, and raising kids?” They’d vaguely talked about this before, long ago, but Riley suddenly needed to ask him again. 

Mac was silent for a long time, staring out the front window. “Yeah, I do,” he finally said. “With the right person.” He glanced over at her, eyes softening. 

Me too, Riley wanted to say, but she choked on the words. It took her a couple tries, and the words came out strangled, but she was pretty sure Mac understood. Neither of them needed to say it directly in order for the other to understand: I want to have kids with you. 

Riley spent the rest of the drive fantasizing about the kid-filled Christmases in her future. She glanced down at the ring on her finger. First step, she thought. Get a real ring. 

[violethowler]

Symbolic Foreshadowing: Analyzing the KH1 Opening in the Context of the Heroine’s Journey

“But was it a dream, or a prophecy?” --Puck (Gargoyles; S2E43: Future Tense)

It’s generally widely acknowledged in fan spaces that the opening sequence of the original game, despite the fantastical visuals, foreshadows key elements of the game’s story, as well as the roles that Sora, Riku, and Kairi each play in the narrative and how their connections relate to one another. Riku standing in or under a giant wave with his hand reaching out for Sora is a clear visual connection to their separation as Destiny Islands falls that foreshadows his fall to darkness in the game itself. Meanwhile, Sora is separated from Kairi at the end of the opening just like how they are separated at the end of the game. 

But looking closely at the symbolism reveals even more layers of meaning hidden within the first Kingdom Hearts game’s opening, especially when the series’ adherence to the Heroine’s Journey is taken into account. 

We open with Sora having to shield his eyes from the blinding light of the sun before he looks to see Riku standing out in the water. The connection between Riku and the sun is reinforced in Chain of Memories, when his redemption is referred to as “The Road to Dawn,” referring to the sun rising at the end of the night to mark the beginning of a new day. This is made explicit when the original montage is recreated shot-for-shot in the opening tutorial of KH3, with a bright light in Riku’s place. 

Kairi, meanwhile is the opposite. Her appearance in the KH1 opening music video is accompanied by a sunset, a trend which repeats itself across the series. She and Sora talk on the dock at sunset the day before the trio plans to depart with their raft. She welcomes Sora home at sunset during the ending of Kingdom Hearts II. She and Sora share the paopu fruit in KH3 at sunset and the game ends with them saying goodbye before the sun sets. But it isn’t the sunset itself that Kairi is associated with. Rather, it’s the disappearance or absence of the sun. 

Her proper introduction in the original game is framed in shadows as she blocks Sora’s view of the sun on the beach. The illusion of her that Sora sees at Merlin’s House later in the game expresses a love of dark, musty places, comparing the Mystical House to the Secret Place on the island. Both are places with little or no sunlight, with the cave on Destiny Islands only having a small hole in the roof, while Traverse Town is always shown in endless night. And after her awakening in Hollow Bastion, she spends her time in Traverse Town at the Secret Waterway, even deeper underground than Merlin’s House. 

Kingdom Hearts III ends with the visual of Sora fading from his reality as the sun sets while the secret ending depicts him and Riku waking up in Quadratum, a place outside reality, at night. As a place outside of reality, Quadratum checks all the boxes for the Descent stage of the Heroine’s Journey. This phase of the narrative pattern marks the point at which the protagonist undergoes a period of self reflection in order to confront the parts of their psyche that they have thus far refused to consciously acknowledge. 

Riku’s presence and visual association with the sun is critical, because if Sora is about to undergo a “dark night of the soul,” then it makes perfect sense for the end of his Descent to be heralded by sunrise imagery. In Light Youth/Dark Youth stories and romantic Heroine’s Journeys, the protagonist and their Animus are typically separated from each other emotionally at the beginning of the story. The rift between the two keeps the main character from achieving inner balance and metaphorically keeps them both trapped in childhood by holding them back from maturing into their best, fullest selves. 

Falling into water or darkness in the Kingdom Hearts series is associated with physical and emotional separation, as well as the severing of bonds. So it makes sense then that the opening music video uses that imagery to illustrate that initial rift between them, as well as how that separation is quickly followed by the visual of Sora falling into the dark void surrounding the Dive to the Heart. 

On one level, this can be read as a metaphor for Sora’s Descent, where he is isolated from the people he cares about. But some recent developments over the last few years have given it another potential meaning that was probably not planned intentionally. 

One of Disney’s most recent properties to attempt the Heroine’s Journey was the Star Wars sequel trilogy, depicting Rey following the path of the Heroine’s Journey with Ben “Kylo Ren” Solo as her Animus. The Force Awakens and The Last Jedi followed the first two acts of the framework to the letter.

However the finale of the trilogy, Episode IX: The Rise of Skywalker, completely abandons the Heroine's Journey formula, removing any sense of growth from Rey’s narrative and ultimately killing off her Animus. The film ends with her travelling alone to Tatooine, the literal starting point of the franchise, where she buries Luke and Leia’s lightsabers in the sand and takes the last name Skywalker for herself. Regardless of what fans who enjoyed the film may think about what the ending was meant to convey about how long she was going to stay on Tatooine, the last image that audiences have is the girl who grew up on a desert planet but wanted something more going back to a desert planet with no clear goal for the future. 

Coming of age narratives that break away from the structure of what the story is setting up leave the main character metaphorically trapped in childhood. These endings strip their personal arc of its momentum and leave the audience feeling as if the character has learned nothing and that their growth has stagnated or even regressed. At the end of the Rise of Skywalker, Rey slides down the sand dunes of the Lars homestead the same way she slid down the sand dunes on Jakku in The Force Awakens, dressed in light colors the way she was in the beginning when she was ignorant of what was going on out in the wider galaxy. The KH1 opening ends with Sora standing on a stained glass pillar depicting Snow White, the first Disney princess. 

While Disney movies are generally acknowledged as something that adults can enjoy, there is still a general attitude in western (or at least American) culture that Disney (and animation as a whole) is solely for children. Many Kingdom Hearts fans who want to see the series “grow up” are most often the ones who call for the series to drop the Disney elements entirely and become more like Final Fantasy. So even if the narrative of the story itself doesn’t say anything, the visuals of Disney are still associated with childhood by many. And that visual of Sora standing on a stained-glass depiction of the first Disney movie serves to connect Sora to that Disney aspect of the series.  

So the symbolism of the KH1 opening can be read as both subtle visual foreshadowing of the narrative pattern and a silent warning of how deviating from that pattern will fundamentally break the narrative. If the rift between the protagonist and the Animus is not properly healed, then it will ultimately leave Sora isolated from the people he cares about and trapped in childhood while everyone around him grows up. 

[alastorswifey]

the second star to the right

kalim al-asim

female reader

semi angst

peter pan au

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

“Never say goodbye because goodbye                                                         means going away and going away                                                                 means forgetting.”

“heave-ho!” the loud thump sound made its way to your ears as you jolted awake, scared for what you might witness. was it a burglar? a kidnapper? it made you paranoid how your inner questions were left unanswered as you slowly grabbed a hard-covered book from your night desk to attack the intruder. at the corner of your room, you caught a glimpse of a boy snooping around, as if he was looking for something.

you stayed in bed, waiting for him to do something. if he really was a kidnapper, you would hit him with the book. there wasn’t much to steal here- it was practically a library, so you didn’t mind if he stole anything, really. you started to calm down until his figure crept up to the foot of your bed. oh, this ruffian is really asking for it. you thought to yourself, mentally smirking and applauding his bravery. as soon as you saw his face being illuminated due to your night lamp, you halted.

“ah! you were here!” the boy exclaimed, scurrying away from your bed. you raised a brow, confused. what in god’s name was he looking for that he didn’t deduce that there might be a person in the room? “may i help you?” despite the strange boy dressed in odd clothing literally breaking an entry in your humble abode, you spoke in a polite manner out of habit. the white haired boy looked up, his garnet red eyes pierced through you, causing you to get lost in the shining orbs.

shaking your head, you furrowed your eyebrows and casted a glare towards him, “i asked, may i help you?” you repeated, this time in a more threatening tone. the boy gulped at your sudden change of attitude and stood up straight, clearing his throat, “you don’t know me?” you mentally rolled your eyes. “this is preposterous. i wouldn’t associate myself with someone that would enter people’s bedrooms without permission! you’re basically trespassing!” you scolded the young boy, in spite of the fact that he might be about your age if he were a tad taller.

“mm, i see. you’re one of the few who haven’t heard of me,” the boy deduced proudly. you inwardly sigh, awaiting his excuse of why he was in your bedroom in the first place and how he even got to the top floor without the use of a rope or a ladder. you were, in fact, at least curious to hear how. “my name’s kalim! kalim al-asim. and you?” you frowned and crossed your arms, “y/n. y/n l/n.” you deadpanned. kalim flinched at your uninterested yet stern tone and nervously whistled comically. “aha,” he started, “you see, i’m looking for my shadow! its been escaping my clutches recently and i have trouble finding it.” kalim sighed, scratching the back of his neck at the thought that he could’ve had the wrong house- again.

you were bewildered, to say the least. what a ludicrous story. “i don’t believe you.” you say, pinching the bridge of your nose due to annoyance. kalim bit his lower lip, full of pride. “but i am telling the truth! maybe it’s because you’re a grown up that you don’t get it.” okay, now you were offended. did you look old for your age? must be the eye bags, you thought to yourself but brushed off the offensive statement coming from this boy’s mouth and glared daggers at him. “fine, fine. perhaps you had gotten the wrong address? there are thousands of locations where your ‘shadow’ could be lingering around in london.” you suggested, sarcasm dripping from your voice when you said the word “shadow.” 

kalim stared at you for a solid minute before turning his attention to the bookshelf near your door. you raised an eyebrow at the area he was focused on and flinched when he jumped towards your bookshelf, knocking all the pieces of literature down as well as its container. you bit your lip upon the shelf making a loud sound, possibly waking everyone up. “kalim!” you hissed silently as he strangled a black figure. your eyes widened. my word, he was telling the truth... your mouth opened from shock, eyes not believing what they were seeing.

“i told you, miss! my shadow must be here!” kalim stated proudly as he proceeded to continue strangling the strange, black form. you got out of bed and walked up to kalim, staring at the shadow in awe. how peculiar it was, the shadow being separated from its beholder. “how are you gonna put it back on?” you asked kalim, your eyes not removing its glance from the shadow. kalim thought for a moment, “soap?” you broke your gaze and stared at kalim strangely. did anybody teach this boy some logic?

sighing, you motioned kalim to sit on your bed while you look for your sewing kit. you hate to admit it, but your sewing skills weren’t as praised as your sister. they said that she had talent while you had the looks but you weren’t sure how to feel about that. brushing off the negative thoughts, you grabbed kalim’s shadow by the foot and started to sew it beneath kalim’s shoes, which were surprisingly barely dirty. did this guy use new pairs of shoes?

after sewing the shadow back on, you huffed and stood up, admiring your work. kalim grinned from ear to ear and jumped up, which caused him to float a bit in your room. you could not believe this. how is this even possible?! kalim is flying. flying in your very room with no strings attached- literally.

“thank you, miss!” kalim laughed, still flying around your room in joy. you sigh before crawling back to your bed and underneath the warm covers. kalim noticed how you weren’t as happy and flew above you. “what’s wrong, miss?” kalim asked, his eyes gleamed with concern. it has been years since you saw eyes that contained genuine concern for you. “nothing. shouldn’t you be going along your merry way?” you asked, voice muffled to kalim due to the covers. kalim hummed before shaking you and pointing to your knocked over bookshelf. “what about it? are you going to clean it up?” kalim gasped and shook his head, “cleaning is for grown ups! i was going to ask about the books you read!”

you were confused. no one was ever interested in you nor what you read. it felt... refreshing to say the least. you glanced tiredly at the scattered books on your wooden floor and sighed. “do you want me to lend you some? i don’t really mind if we don’t meet again and you never return it.” you let out a sigh as you escape the warmth of your bed and walked to the books, picking up some stories that kalim might find interesting, despite his knowledge that, you believed, didn’t exist. no offense.

“hm, i suppose this book might be to your liking? oh, and this too,” before you knew it, you were carrying a stack of possibly five books and handed it over to kalim. they were all fairytales that you read when you were a child and you only ever read the said books whenever you had nothing else to do. they were short lived entertainment. kalim’s eyes practically sparkled when he saw the covers of the books. they were pretty appealing to the eyes of children- not that kalim was one but he sure acted like a child.

“thank you so much, miss! i’ll read this to the lost boys and return it!” kalim giggled before grabbing them from your arms and flying upwards. “you do know that you can just call me y/n, right? we’re practically the same age.” you stated, trying to get through to kalim. miss was too formal and you weren’t used to it at all. kalim raised an eyebrow, “hm, yes we may be the same age but you act like an adult. you’re too mature, which is why i think its more appropriate if i call you miss!” preposterous. absolutely preposterous. were you that serious? you always were told that you were more mature than your sister.

“that speaks for you as well, though!” you spoke, defensive. you didn’t even know why you were arguing with kalim at this point. it was all child’s play. kalim watched with sparkling orbs as you tried to defend your statement. “how so?” kalim urged, trying to get you to break out of your shell. you flinched. was this boy even thinking straight? “you said we’re the same age, yet you act like a mere six-year-old!” you silently yelled, taking note of your family still asleep. “are you still mature for your age miss? you just uselessly argued with me over an immature topic.” you bit the inside of your cheek before sighing. although, that statement was the most mature thing that came out of kalim’s mouth since the moment he met you. “you should leave.” kalim laughed before nodding, “good night, miss! please continue to believe in me!” and with that being said, kalim hopped outside of your window and flew to god know’s where.

this must be a dream.

-

the next night, kalim came back (much to your surprise). you hate to admit it but you kind of missed him- despite the fact that he was annoying you last night. he kept his word and returned the next night to bring back the books you lended him. “miss, the lost boys love it!” kalim exclaimed, sitting comfortably on the edge of your bed. you were pretty confused as to who these lost boys were. “okay, tell me: who exactly are the lost boys?” you wanted answers. were they literally lost and kalim takes care of them? kalim blinked a few times before chuckling, “they’re boys who weren’t claimed by their parents,” kalim sighed, running a hand through his hair, “i took them to neverland so they could have a place to stay- i’m practically their parent!” kalim added, as though he was proud.

meanwhile, you were still confused. weren’t children who parents didn’t want sent to the orphanage? how did kalim come across them? surely he wasn’t targeting them from the moment they were born, right? letting out another tired sigh, you stared at kalim, “so, you take care of them?” kalim nodded excitedly, eager to talk more about the lost boys. “yes. but, hmm, they still need a mom,” kalim thought out loud. now you were cautious. was he referring to you? “oh, i got it! you can be the mom!” kalim announced, getting closer to you. you flinched, “what? why?” you asked as kalim giggled, “because you’re mature and you’re a girl, right?” the white haired boy tilted his head to the side. you sighed, “i’m not going to be a mother! we’re both seventeen-years-old! i’m too young!” 

“in neverland, you can be whoever you want! you can be older there!” okay, was this guy actually a twenty-year-old in disguise? he’s using that tactic kidnappers use. “no. i’m not going anywhere.” it’s not like you can if you wanted to. you’re bound in this house by your parents. kalim whined like a child, “aw, fine,” he huffed, “how about giving me some more stories?” kalim looked at you with anticipation. you narrowed your gaze and darted your eyes towards the bookshelf that was neatly arranged, unlike the messy state it was in the previous night.

“wait, before that- i want to talk to you about the book i read.” okay, now you were interested. you wanted to see how this kid thought of the fairytales. since all that neverland talk was probably real, he most likely hasn’t had any children’s books. yes, you asked your parents about him and they told you stories. “hm, what about it?” you queried, not looking up from the novel you were reading. it’s not that you didn’t want to come off as rude, it’s just that you hated eye contact when participating in a conversation. 

“well, in this one scene, the prince pressed his lips on the princess’ and she came back to life!” kalim explained, making exaggerated hand motions that you didn’t even want to see clearly. oh. oh dear lord. is he gonna ask you what’s a- “so i was thinking to myself, that word is called a ‘kiss’, right? can you show me?” you flinched and closed your book out of shock. this boy cannot be real, can he? how was he raised? “uh, i don’t think it’s appropriate for me to tell you...” you trailed off, voice getting quiet and face flushed from embarrassment. “eh? why not?” kalim whined, tugging on the sleeve of your night gown. “b-because only people who love each other get to k-kiss.” oh for pete’s sake, you scolded yourself. keep it together, y/n. you sound like a high school student being taught how babies were made. 

“huh? but i love you, miss!” okay, now you were sure he wasn’t being serious. “no, you don’t. you’re just saying that.” you sighed, gently slapping both of your cheeks to calm them down. “i do! i’ll prove it to you if i liked that kiss!” the way he was throwing the word kiss around made you even more embarrassed. you were considering kissing him on the cheek but that idea was thrown out of the window the more he mentioned the said word. 

“fine, i’ll give you a kiss!” you hissed, turning your head away from him. “close your eyes first...” you mumbled, grabbing something from your drawer. kalim’s eyelids had been shut, a small smile playing on his soft looking lips as he waited for the “kiss.” you bit your lower lip and gently poked the pin cushion to his cheeks, face a bright red. “was that it?” kalim piqued up, sounding a little disappointed. he then opened his eyes and saw the pin cushion pressing his cheeks.

“what! miss, that wasn’t a kiss!” he complained. you laughed before withdrawing back your extended arm, “i told you- only people who love each other can kiss!” you explained, face still tinted with a blush. “hm, fine, but i’ll definitely make you love me!” 

oh thank god, he finally understands. you let out a sigh of relief, taking his statement light heartedly. “i still want that kiss, miss...” kalim pouted, fiddling with his fingers. you sighed and ran a hand through your hair, pecking him quickly on the lips. wait- you were supposed to kiss him on the cheek only! kalim flinched at the contact and let out a hot breath which fanned your face as you pulled away. “... can you do that again?” kalim whispered, staring at your e/c orbs. his face illuminated by the warm light of the lamp. he was actually pretty tolerable in this state. “n-no, i’’m going to bed-”

kalim hastily grabbed you by the shoulders and kissed you again, but the kiss lasted longer than the last one. you squeezed your eyes shut, not knowing when he would stop as you were desperate for air. your face felt hot as kalim pulled away, a smile on his lips. “good night, miss. continue to believe in me.” 

-

almost every night, kalim would come by your house. on this particular night, however, you needed him. you needed someone to talk to- someone who would listen. kalim immediately noticed how you weren’t your usual self who would playfully punch him or would flare up when he flirted with you. “what’s wrong, miss?” you two were on the roof top this time- you wanted to get away from all the problems for even just a short while and find comfort in the stars.

“nothing.” you said abruptly. you couldn’t tell him, no matter how much you wanted to. kalim noticed your tone. it wasn’t harsh. he decided to let the topic go and give you some more time. oh how considerate he was when it came to you. thats what you love about him. yes, i did say love. you harbored feelings for the magical teenager that trespassed in your bedroom the first time you met him. he had a charm that you longed for and that was how interested he was in what you had to say. he was a friend. a really good friend you never want to let go of nor lose.

“oh, are you thinking about the stars? well, let me tell you about neverland.” ah neverland, another one of kalim’s stories that you’ve been interested in ever since he mentioned it. he only ever told you about what’s inside neverland and the people inhabiting that world. kalim scooted next to you and extended his arm to a very noticeably bigger star. “see that star over there? look at the second one to the right.” kalim stated as you followed to where his finger was pointing towards. 

“that one? what about it?” you asked, hugging your blankets closer to you. “that’s where neverland is! it’s pretty near, i can take you there if you want to.” kalim suggested. you wanted to go to neverland with him. maybe if you do, you’ll be able to escape these problems of yours. maybe you don’t have responsibility there. maybe you’ll even have an actual caring family. the thought made you tear up but you quickly wiped the droplets that escaped your eyes.

“i-i can’t go. sorry,” you always refuse his offer and he always smiled and nodded, understanding your decision. but this time he frowned. he didn’t ask why you didn’t want to go and you loved him for that but the look he was giving you right now asked the said question. the pleading look in his eyes, how they were glossy, how they looked like they were about to spill tears at any given moment. 

“h-hah... you can tell me, you know? i don’t like seeing you sad.” perhaps it was time you do open up to him. you know a lot about him but he barely knows anything about you other than your age, name, address and your love for books. maybe if you tell him then perhaps things would change. you inhaled the fresh air of london and turned to face kalim (who you noted was inches apart from you). this sudden closeness reminded you of when you two first kissed- you were still pretty embarrassed about that. 

“i’m getting married,” you whispered, though kalim heard it crystal clear. “why...? don’t you... love me?” his voice cracked as he went closer to you. yes, you do love him. you love him more than anyone on this miserable planet. you loved him to death. you would do anything to get to be with him as cheesy as it sounds. “i do,” you began, a cloud formed due to you talking, “but it wasn’t my decision.” 

your parents were marrying you off to some guy you don’t even know. you’ve never met him. you don’t even know his name! tears rolled down your cheeks as you awaited kalim’s response. the white haired male was stunned and shocked. he didn’t know how to respond. what should he say anyway? god, he should’ve asked the mermaids for help about this sort of thing. “why are you marrying him if you don’t even love him?! that shouldn’t be allowed!” kalim clenched his fists and shook violently both from frustration and sorrow. he can’t lose you. not yet. not ever. 

this is why i hate grown ups... kalim thought to himself.

“i don’t want to, kalim. i swear i don’t love him but i have no choice...” kalim gulped and bit his lower lip to prevent himself from crying although it proved to be useless as he felt hot tears stream down his face. you lifted his chin up so you could get one last good look of him. the last day. this is the last day you’ll be seeing each other...

“y/n...” kalim’s voice cracked once again. the way he said your name in such a tone made you cry. you hated this. why must the world be cruel? why did you take his presence and existence for granted? it was the first time kalim ever called you by your name. kalim grabbed your hand and intertwined it with his. “y/n, i don’t have much time,” he whispered, grabbing both of your hands tightly, afraid he will lose you. “w-what do you mean?” you asked, frantic. what nonsense is he spouting now?

“kalim, this isn’t a funny joke. don’t say those kinds of th-”

“it isn’t a joke!” kalim growled but immediately looked up and softened his expression. “i’m-i’m going to disappear, y/n.” you flinched at this claim. how? is this why he always said to believe in him every time he leaves for neverland? you always believed in him? did you not try hard enough? “why? i always believed in you...” you said in a soft tone, not taking your eyes off of his red orbs.

“you did great but... apparently not everyone does. i’m just someone who was made because people created stories about me. i’m not actually a person, y/n. that’s why my life depends on people’s belief in me.” he explained, his figure slowly dissipating into nothing. more tears streamed down your face. “n-no...” you whispered.

“but hey, listen to me,” kalim started, a smile still playing on his lips as if to reassure you and to stop you from crying. you were attentive. you’re never going to forget how this boy had become your one and only friend. “remember the second star to the right. remember it with all your heart. if you do, something good will be brought upon you, i promise.” you bit your lips, closing your eyes shut. you couldn’t take this anymore.

“good night, miss. continue to believe in me.” kalim whispered, the feeling of his lips connecting to yours once more. it was a bittersweet kiss you longed for. you didn’t want it to end and before you knew it, the feeling of warmth disappeared from your lips and felt as if a part of something was taken from you. 

he’s gone. the only person who made me feel alive and wanted... is gone.

-

“heave-ho!” you flinched at the voice. what on earth? were you hallucinating? “kalim, was that you?” you asked the white haired male as you nudged him. kalim looked up at you, “hm? oh, yeah it was me! i heard it from a dream, didn’t really think it would surprise you.” he stated as you continued to snuggle in his arms. warm. you thought to yourself.

“why did you dream of that old phrase/ i haven’t heard it since i was a child,” you chuckled and closed your eyes, feeling drowsy. the moon illuminated the outlines of your face that kalim took his sweet time to admire. he missed you. th moment he saw you enter night raven college. he felt a familiar feeling in his chest. 

“good night, miss. continue to believe in me.” 

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

a/n: sobbing dhmu. im crying bc of my own fic FUCK

[letteredlettered]

I've been thinking a lot about some of your posts regarding people being too kind to Draco and too mean to Harry when they read it in fics (any, but specifically yours) and I wanted to ask you about it. I agree with you that this happens, but I disagree that it happens with the whole of the death eaters. Instead it seems to be very Draco specific. I see no one, for instance, trying to justify the actions of Bellatrix. 1/2

[continued] I always assumed it was from iterations of fandom tropes slowly changing the character, but based on comments from JKR it appears to be a sympathy that was present from the beginning. Ive begun to wonder if maybe the issue is in the narrative itself and was wondering if you had any thoughts on whether or not that might be the case. 2/2

Also PS I think your new WIP is your best work yet even without the final chapters. Absolutely stunning.

Few people want to excuse Bellatrix because she’s a female character. Few people want to excuse Crabbe and Goyle because they are described as overweight and unattractive. Plenty of people want to excuse Pansy; despite the fact that she happens to be a woman, Draco obviously needs an immaculate best friend. Plenty of people do excuse Lucius Malfoy and Voldemort, because Harry Potter needs someone to fuck. After all.

I don’t know what comments from JKR you’re referring to, but Draco Malfoy is meant to be a sympathetic character. I feel this is very, very clear in the text, even though I’m sure people could interpret it differently. The whole point of Draco is that he becomes sympathetic in HBP. That book is meant to show that although Draco is a bully and a bigot, he is also a child, who--because he is a child--lacks the independence and physical/magical maturity that an adult has to defy Voldemort.

We are not meant to condemn Draco in the text. We’re meant to pity him.

But we’re not meant to forget that he called Hermione a Mudblood or that he tried to get Hagrid fired, that he made fun of Ron’s poverty and Harry’s orphan status, that he endangered other school children by doing things like dressing up like a Dementor or being in the Inquisition Squad, that he stepped on Harry’s face and put him into dangerous situations, that he mocked Cedric Diggory’s death. We’re meant to see that these kinds of behaviors were encouraged by his family and background and played into Death Eater ideals. I think we’re supposed to see later actions (trying to kill Dumbledore, almost killing Ron and Katie Bell instead, letting Death Eaters into Hogwarts, trying to turn Harry in to Voldemort at the last hour) are all heinous acts, but by this point we’re also supposed to see that he is a frightened child doing what he knows how to protect his family.  However, showing Draco in this light is not meant to imply he’s never done anything wrong; it’s only meant to make him sympathetic.

This is why I like writing Draco. I’m not drawn to him at all in canon, but I’m drawn to the possibility of his redemption. I love redemption arcs. I’m also drawn to characters who feel incredibly guilty, and to me, Draco growing up and learning from his mistakes means he has things to regret, and a strong desire to atone.

I’m fine if fic writers only want to write stories in which Draco is a perfect person who has never done anything wrong. But I’m frustrated that apparently, this fanon is such a fandom norm, that I have to do conscious work to deconstruct it to communicate anything that approximates what I have to say. I sometimes feel, with some readers, that I don’t get to write fanfic of canon; I can only write fic for fanon I actually don’t like and would never write fanfic for if I had the option. Furthermore, this is fanon I’ve read very little of, because I don’t like it, so it took me a long time to even understand this is what people had in their head when they read my fic, not the canon I had read.

Plenty of people read my fics and respond in a way that indicates they have read the canon I have and/or understand what I’m trying to communicate. As for the people who don’t, they’re free to interpret how they want. I’m also free to feel frustrated by it, though.

Thank you for your kind words about By The Grace. This is the first HP fic that I actually wrote with a very conscious intention to address this fanon issue. I’m still working on it. It became quite complicated in ways I only very partially intended.

[haveanotherkpopblog]

Vive la Revolution

Prologue

Genre: Cyberpunk!AU, Dystopian!AU, Gang!AU, Rivals-to-Lovers!AU

Pairing: TBA

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Sexual Situations

Masterlist || Next Part >>

Society fell when the game came out. It was supposed to be a game for children, where they could let their imaginations run rampant. The game was meant for them to have an escape from everyday life. But then they didn’t stop playing. They spent all day in the game. Nothing else mattered except the game.

The game--the game wasn’t like other games. It was the future of virtual reality. It was a game where you didn’t need to stop to sleep or even use the bathroom. Your consciousness was transferred into the game, putting you in a deep slumber, a coma almost. The only downfall was you had to leave, until you didn’t have to.

The kids turned to the black market for medical IV’s so they could keep playing. Crime began to rise significantly over the mere months since the game’s initial release. The police did their best, but with limited resources and limited money, there was only so much they could do.

Then the adults started playing. In an attempt to save their children, adults entered the game. The only problem was, they never left. The curiosity of what had captured their children’s minds so effortlessly and quietly. Slowly, the adults stopped leaving the game. They followed in their kids’ footsteps, buying IV’s and locking themselves away in the game.

Businesses began shutting down from the lack of customers and the employees seeming to vanish into thin air. Life began slowing down, the only thing thriving in the dying country was crime. The police slowly began to stop doing their jobs, letting the country run rampant with illegal activities.

The worst of it was in the capital. The most powerful people, the socialites, lived there, including the manufacturer of Virtual Paradise-- the game responsible for capturing half the nation’s mind. The game went world-wide, and soon everyone who was anyone had purchased the game. People, desperate to escape their lives, stole the game from anywhere they could get it. The company, Tempestechnologies, had become the company.

However, that was the capital and all major cities of the world. What was really scary was the rest of the country that couldn’t afford the game. Or if they could, they were smart enough not to buy it. With the world and the nation in chaos, the country had been divided into three districts.

The first was the JYP District. It covered most of the coastline and was the mediator between the other two districts. The leader of the District referred to herself as Queenie. As the only female leader, she gave herself a fitting title. While rather small in size, she was a force to be reckoned with. She and her husband had made a quiet, but successful, living working mainly with oversea gangs. She kept the other two districts as close allies.

The second was the SM District. This District covered the northern side of the country. It just also happened to be the richest amongst the three Districts since the Capital fell within their territory. The leader was Leeteuk, a successful businessman turned into an even more successful gang leader. He knew where the game would lead the country from a young age, and he’d been preparing ever since for the inevitable.

The last District was the scariest. YG District was made up of the southern side of the country and what little bit of the coastal region JYP didn’t control. The crime rates were so high, the police had completely given up and worked for the District’s leading gang and the leader. The leader--the leader was so many things, finding one word to describe him was impossible. G-Dragon had done so many unthinkable things, had seen the unimaginable, and he had laughed at it all.

Now while Queenie had aligned herself and JYP with SM and YG, the two didn’t like each other. In fact, if it hadn’t been for her, there certainly would have been a civil war unlike any before. That’s where the story started, at the end of a feud that started before either of them reached double digits.

Queenie sat in one of the clubs in her District. For the best outcome, everyone needed to meet on neutral territory. That meant her territory, which she didn’t mind at all. Her turf, her rules. She smirked, eyes scanning the club, skimming every face she recognized and every face she didn’t. She watched as A, one of her informants, flirted with some random guy at the bar. He wasn’t bad looking, but Queenie knew A was simply biding her time.

“Are you sure they’re going to show?” JB, Queenie’s second in command, sat perched at the edge of his seat. He was staring directly at her, his eyebrows halfway up his forehead. His drink sat on the table in front of him, barely touched as the ice slowly watered it down. She smirked, reaching to grab her own glass off the table.

“Have patience. They’ll show up.”

As if on cue, Mandu, JB’s personal bodyguard, escorted four men in. Mandu had dark brown hair parted away from his face. His muscles bulged against his tight shirt, giving everyone a clear image of his strong physique that detoured most people, as long as he kept his mouth closed. Once he opened his mouth, any intimidation the other party felt disappeared. Even with his deep, intimidating voice, Mandu was simply too sweet and kind for his own good.

Leeteuk sat in the chair opposite of Queenie. His pink hair fell into his eyes, making him squint and occasionally toss his head. His suit jacket was undone, revealing the tight, black dress shirt that hugged his toned chest. It was a well known fact that he had quite the fascination with her. Whether it be because of her stunning beauty or the power she held was of little consequence.

Next to him was Suho, his second in command. Suho was to keep himself more put together than Leeteuk did when she was around. His black hair was combed away from his face, and his suit was well-put together, albeit more casual than what he usually wore. They were supposed to be more casual, relaxed, with each other. Hence them meeting in some bourgeois club. And that was strictly on Queenie’s request.

Behind them were their bodyguard, arms crossed over their chests as they eyed Queenie and her subordinates half-heartedly. They never saw her as a real threat. Whether it was because of their alliance or because they truly believed she wasn’t a threat to anyone was unknown to her. But she knew she could handle herself, and should the time ever come, she would show them just how well.

“Gentlemen. Welcome. I hope the journey wasn’t too hard,” she greeted.

“Seeing you again is worth every second,” Leeteuk said, shooting her a wink. Queenie peered over her glass, sparing a glance to Suho who was staring at Leeteuk with a slight scrunched face. He rolled his eyes, taking a prolonged sip from his cup. “I only wish it was under better circumstances.” She carefully set down her cup.

“I think these are the best circumstances. You’re finally putting that silly little feud behind you,” she said. She leant forward, placing a delicate hand just above his knee, giving it a light squeeze. “You know how much I dislike conflict.” He watched her hand with a dark gaze, his leg tensing under her touch. Suho and JB shared an unimpressed look before they both took a sip of their drinks. Queenie pulled back, crossing her legs as she observed Leeteuk.

Leeteuk observed her too, taking in her now short hair, the subtle makeup around her smoldering eyes and luscious lips. His eyes trailed down her body, admiring how the dress hugged her curves and even gave him a glimpse of what the thin fabric was covering. She was temptation. He knew that, she knew that, he knew she knew that, and he was more than aware she used that knowledge to her advantage, yet he let her pull him in. What they knew was of little consequence to them.

“I see they’re just letting anybody in here now.” Queenie and Leeteuk looked away from each other to the three people that had entered the room. DaH, Queenie’s personal bodyguard, had brought in two more people for their little celebratory party. Her long blonde hair fell down her back as she shot a harsh glare to the pair she’d brought in. DaH wasn’t built like Mandu, she was small and petite, but she made up for her lack of bulging muscles with speed and agility. And unlike Mandu, when she spoke, her words were laced with venom.

G-Dragon gave DaH a cheeky wink, to which she replied by narrowing her gaze more. She shot Queenie an unimpressed look before moving to stand behind her. G-Dragon oozed confidence. His hair was a disheveled mess, dark marks covered his neck and most of his chest from what could be seen of his unbuttoned shirt. She gave Queenie a sly smirk as she stood to greet him, a smirk of her own on her face.

“Well we let you in here don’t we?” she teased. G-Dragon chuckled, leaning forward to place a kiss on her cheek. He shot Leeteuk a wink as he did so, enjoying seeing him get worked up from a small action. Suho leaned over to whisper to Leeteuk, calming him down somewhat.

CL, G-Dragon’s second in command, sat next to Suho. She had at least followed Queenie’s request. Her curled, blonde hair fell over one shoulder, exposing her back and drawing attention to cleavage.  She kept her eyes focused between Queenie, Leeteuk, and G-Dragon. She flicked her wrist, glancing down at her watch.

Suho, despite his best efforts to keep a bored air around him, watched CL carefully. He took in her poised posture and the unreadable mask that hid her emotions too well. He took in how her dress exposed her back, letting his eyes trail down the length of her spine. He felt his blood heat up the longer he stared at her back.

“I’m so glad we could have this little sit down,” Queenie said. She watched both men carefully, observing their subtle glances at one another. “I think it’s about time you two put this silly feud to rest.” Both men tensed at the statement, avoiding each other’s eyes. “JB, if you will.” JB cleared his throat, regarding each man and their associates.

“Queenie and I agree that the best way to show peace is to build trust. We’ve talked with each of you separately and from that we’ve come up with a plan. G-Dragon is being gracious enough to send someone to stay in the SM District for one year with absolutely no contact.”

“How exactly does that establish trust?” Suho inquired, leaning forward so his arms rested on his knees. “If anything, that causes more trust issues. One year to gather information to be used against us? I’m failing to see how that works in our favor.”

“Well firstly, the agreement is that our person lives with you for a year without any harm,” CL said, turning to look at Suho. “Meaning if you want to keep them locked in a dungeon, as long as they’re fed and clean, you can do so. Second, we’re not sending just anyone. He’s sending in his only living relative to live with someone he hasn’t gotten along with in years. If anything, that’s the most trust I’ve seen him give anyone.” Suho and Leeteuk both stared at her in shock.

“I wasn’t aware you had any family,” Leeteuk said.

“It’s not something I like to advertise. People like to use them against you. I’m sure you more than anyone can understand that,” he replied. “Now I’m sending them to show my complete trust. If and when they return, as long as they’re in good health and have been treated with respect and dignity they deserve, then I will let bygones be bygones.”

Leeteuk regarded G-Dragon carefully. Something wasn’t sitting right in the pit of his stomach. This seemed too easy. After years of them being at each other’s throats, G-Dragon was going to gift wrap his own blood to him? Leeteuk narrowed his eyes slightly, his fist tightening around his glass.

“I wouldn’t read too much into such a generous offer,” Queenie said. She leant forward, facing Leeteuk directly. “He’s giving you unsupervised access to the closest person to him, and all you have to do is keep them healthy and safe. If anything, I think you’re getting the better side of this deal.” She placed her hand on his knee again, tilting her head slightly and staring up at him with her big, round eyes.

“Unsupervised?” Suho said.

“Yes. One whole year of unsupervised access to them. YG will have absolutely no access to them while they stay with you,” JB said, shooting Queenie a pointed look.

“Don’t mistake me for a blissfully blind fool, Leeteuk,” G-Dragon said, pulling Leeteuk’s attention away from Queenie. “I don’t expect you to trust me or my family. So as a sign of good faith, they’re going in unaccompanied. Even their own personal bodyguard won’t be with them. That’s how you’re going to show me your trust. Return them to me unharmed and in good health, treat them like family, or at least better than the men you’ve so graciously returned to me before, and I won’t murder everyone in your district.” Leeteuk clenched his jaw. Suho leant over, lowering his voice.

“Wait. We can use this to our advantage. How much information do you think our people could get out of him? Who would know his deep secrets better than his own blood?” Leeteuk weighed Suho’s words carefully, slowly relaxing into his seat.

“So you want me to keep them for one year, three-hundred and sixty-five days, and then return them safely?” Leeteuk clarified. G-Dragon nodded, moving to lean back into his seat. Leeteuk drummed his fingers on the armrest, staring at G-Dragon thoughtfully. Something still didn’t feel right, but Suho had a point. His second in command gave him a subtle nod. Leeteuk smiled smugly, tossing his hands up slightly. “I have to agree with you Queenie, I’m definitely getting the better deal.”

G-Dragon smirked, outstretching his hand. Leeteuk grabbed it, giving him a firm handshake. Queenie clapped her hands together, a genuine smile on her face. JB let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Suho and CL shared a knowing look before turning back to the two leaders.

“I’m so happy everything’s worked out,” Queenie said, moving to stand up. “Now, I believe you gentlemen and lady have earned a night of relaxation. My club is all yours to enjoy.” She turned to G-Dragon, a smirk on her face. “I believe A is waiting for you downstairs.” G-Dragon returned her smirk, running a hand through his hair. Leeteuk held his hand up to the two District leaders.

“As much as I would love to, I should get back.” He and Suho, along with their bodyguards, headed towards the door. He paused briefly, turning to look back. “Just one quick question,” he said. “Who exactly is this relative of yours?” G-Dragon smiled, a genuine, scarily normal smile.

“My baby sister.”

[luckhound]

— reprieve.

pairing.  alfonse/gender neutral reader (summoner)

genre.  fluff

description.  he’s not one for feasts and dances, but just like with everything else, you show up and change that.

note.  i’m not that confident writing for feh since this is my first piece, but somehow this is 2.2k words long and in alfonse’s pov 😐😐 anywayz no one should criticize me cause i tried

Another day, another village saved.

It had been evening when the battle with the forces of Múspell came to an end, the last of the opposing army retreating. As thanks, the villagers opened their only inn to the Order of Heroes, inviting them to stay the night and recuperate, before resuming travel early next morning. They accepted, seeing as most of their forces were exhausted from the day’s events. Pitching tents, tending fires, and eating rations hadn’t sounded appealing to any of them in the slightest.

Alfonse was thankful for their hospitality, not to mention eager to get some much needed rest. Only to learn that the villagers were so moved over being saved by the Order, they were throwing a feast in their honour. Apparently, they refused to take no for an answer. (Though he doubts his sister put up much of a fight when approached by the village elders.)

Which is how the Prince of Askr finds himself nursing a mug of ale, watching the festivities and wondering when would be the appropriate time to retire for the night.

The villagers had done a fine job, considering how impromptu the feast was. A bonfire roared in the center of the village, bathing the square in hues of red, orange, and gold. Tables were erected nearby, full to the brim with various foods. One of the villagers had brought out their lyre and was playing a jovial ditty, while children and adults alike danced merrily to the tune.

Sharena is among the revelers, having shed her armour for one of the dresses she’d packed for the journey. (Alfonse had raised a brow at her luggage and told her such finery wasn’t necessary, not when they were setting out to defeat Surtr and his forces. It seemed he was the wrong one.) Her hair is twisted into a braid and decorated with flowers by the young children who had taken to following after her like ducklings would their mother. One of her little admirers is in her arms, head thrown back in laughter as they are swung about.

He spots other familiar faces nearby as well. Commander Anna is engaged in friendly conversation with one of the villagers, a woman. Camilla of the World of Conquest is sampling some of the desserts, licking the sugar that dusts her fingers with relish. Frederick of the World of Awakening appears as uncomfortable as Alfonse feels, standing on the fringes with his hands clasped behind his back and still in full armour.

The only one missing is you, the Summoner. It has been some time since he had spoken to you last. He’d caught glimpses of you at the start of the feast, but he had been too busy conversing with the village elders alongside Sharena to approach you. Though he glances around, he doesn’t see hide nor hair of you.

Had you decided to cut the night short?

Suddenly, sticking around sounds even less appealing. He’s done his rounds, chatted with villagers and fellow Order members, and thanked the right people. Surely his duties are complete. He thinks wistfully of his room at the inn. It isn’t as spacious as the one back home, but a bed is a bed, and he’s tired.

Just as he considers retreating, not unlike the Múspell forces had, he feels a presence at his side. “Well, if it isn’t the life of the party.” He glances over to see your smiling visage.

You’re out of your summoner’s cloak, wearing a fetching tunic and pair of pants. A flower is tucked behind your ear; perhaps the children had gotten to you as well. Your skin glows in the firelight, which is reflected in your eyes.

Alfonse finds his gaze lingering on your form for longer than appropriate. He clears his throat, turning away. “I would hardly refer to myself as such.”

“I know, I was joking.” You sound amused. There’s a pause, wherein Alfonse curses himself for not realizing your words had been in jest, before you capture his attention again. “That title would go to your sister, I think.”

That piques his curiosity. He seeks out Sharena for a second time. She’s still dancing with the children. His sister is twirling one of the girls, a beaming grin on her features. It can’t be clearer how much she’s enjoying herself.

He smiles at the sight. “Sharena always has been the life of any party. She was over the moon every time we held balls at the castle.”

You knock your shoulder against his. The brief contact has his fingers tightening around the mug he’s holding, a reflexive reaction he can’t control. “Let me guess. You didn’t have much fun at those balls?”

His first instinct is to laugh awkwardly, write your words off as ribbing and leave it at that. But when he looks to you, your head is cocked to the side, your gaze trained on him. You seem to be awaiting a response. As if you genuinely want to know what he was like back when the kingdom of Askr was at peace, and not in the midst of war.

Alfonse gives the diplomatic answer. “I understood their function. It is important for royalty to host events at the castle. They present an opportunity for us to interact with our people and learn how they are faring.” At your expectant look, he admits, “...I didn’t particularly enjoy them, no. Actually, I was often scolded by my mother for leaving early.”

You chuckle at that, but not cruelly. “Huh. I can’t picture you getting in trouble with your mom. But hiding in a corner, so you don’t have to talk to other people?” You look at him pointedly, a teasing slant to your mouth. “That’s easier to imagine.”

Does he really come off that way? He frowns. That isn’t how he wants to appear to anyone, you especially. The thought is a bit disconcerting, because he’s not sure when your opinion of him started to carry such weight.

“It isn’t that I didn’t want to talk to anyone at those events.” He stares out at the crowd, so that he doesn’t have to meet your gaze. “The nobles who attended just confounded me. So many of them are duplicitous. They rarely say what they mean, and often attempt to befriend me for my title. And then there were the rules and conventions that had to be adhered. Sharena was capable of handling all that while still enjoying herself, but it was...difficult for me.”

(It didn’t help that his behaviour usually disappointed his parents, whether it be because he inadvertently snubbed a noble or left before it was appropriate. Now isn’t the time to think of his many failures as a prince, however.)

“Oh.” The quiet sound compels him to look at you. Your merriment from before is gone, your brows furrowed and the corners of your mouth tugged down. “I’m sorry, Alfonse. I didn’t mean to remind you about all that, especially when this is supposed to be a happy occasion.”

He blinks, taken aback, before shaking his head. “N-No, don’t be sorry. You didn’t say anything untoward. If anything, I should apologize for ruining the mood.”

Now you’re the one shaking your head. “You don’t need to apologize for speaking your mind! I asked you about it in the first place, anyway.”

Suddenly, he can’t help smile at the situation. The two of you are members of the Order of Heroes, battle-hardened and assured on the battlefield...but tripping over each other during a simple conversation at a party. “Then I guess neither of us need to be sorry.”

Maybe you realize the absurdity too, because you huff out a laugh. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Conversation comes easier then, the topic at hand turning to how you both spent your time at the feast thus far. You wax poetic about some of the pastries you ate, while he mentions the praises the village elders had for the heroes. There are brief silences in between, but it’s comfortable and not at all stifling.

During one such lull, Alfonse notices that Anna is no longer near the food tables. She’s being led by the hand to the makeshift dance floor, still in the company of the woman she’d been speaking with earlier. She’s smiling from ear to ear, with a lightness to her shoulders that’s rarely present when they travel.

He points the new development out. “Looks like the Commander and her new friend are planning to join Sharena.”

Your brows raise in mild interest, and you glance around for a moment before spotting the women in question. By now they have begun to dance, Anna’s arms twined around her companion’s waist. Your mouth quirks into a grin. “Oh, I doubt either of them are having friendly thoughts right now.”

He frowns. “What do you mean? They look friendly from where I’m standing.”

“Well, yeah, but...” You trail off, taking in his confusion. Then your eyes widen. “Uhhh...You know what? Nevermind! You’re totally right, they are.”

Alfonse gets the feeling that he’s missing something. He decides not to press you on it. Instead, he returns to watching the proceedings. He’s so engrossed in wondering how Sharena has yet to tire herself out, he doesn’t notice you glance from the dance floor to him, your teeth digging into your lip in contemplation.

“You know,” you begin carefully, “maybe we should join them too. As in, on the dance floor.”

It takes a moment for the words to sink in. Then he’s stammering, the nape of his neck warm. “Join them on the...I-I can’t. It’s not that I don’t want to, o-or do, that is to say— I don’t— I’m not a good dancer.”

You smile reassuringly. “That’s okay. I mean, look! Everyone's just dancing to the music!”

That’s the problem, he wants to say. He doesn’t have an aptitude for dance, but the waltz has steps he can follow. Here, in this tiny village so far from the castle, there is no structure to the dancing, villagers and heroes alike making it up as they go. Alfonse knows his two left feet will only embarrass him if he tries to join in.

His trepidation must show, because your smile disappears, a look of worry replacing it. “If you’re not comfortable, though, I’m not gonna force you. We can just stay here.”

He wants nothing more than to agree. But then you glance over at the dancing crowd, looking wistful, and he finds himself saying, “Well. Maybe just for a little bit.”

You turn back to him. “What? Are you sure? You don’t have to say so because of me. Really!”

His flush is spreading to his cheeks, and his mind is conjuring up all the ways he’ll slip up, and he’s afraid of making a fool of himself in front of you. And yet he still sets his mug down at a nearby table, before holding out his hand towards you. “I insist.”

It’s worth the trouble when your face clears up, an excited smile playing at your lips as you take his hand. Your fingers are warm, and a comforting weight on his palm. As one, you both head to the dance floor.

Sharena is the first to notice. Her brows raise in surprise, before she’s grinning at Alfonse with a knowing look. He avoids her gaze, feeling his flush worsen, only to lock eyes with Anna. She waggles her brows. He narrows his eyes, feigning irritation, and turns away.

Then his eyes meet yours. It’s impossible to look away from the warmth he finds there.

You take a step closer, until your chests are nearly brushing. “Here,” you say, so softly he has to strain a little to hear you. “Just do what I do.”

The villager on the lyre is playing a softer song, not quite as fast-paced as the previous ones have been. You guide him into a dance that matches the tempo. He stumbles at first, but you’re patient, smiling encouragingly at him as you continue to lead without issue. Just as confidently as you do on the battlefield. The comparison helps ease some of his anxiety.

Alfonse can feel sweat gathering under the collar of his tunic, from the press of bodies around him, the crackling bonfire, and his nerves. He’s much too cognizant of all the places he’s touching you, and you him. He’s been in close proximity to you before, but never quite like this.

It’s terrifying. It’s maddening. It’s exhilarating.

After some time, you grin. “Look at that! You’re dancing.”

Fondness blooms within his chest at how pleased you are with his success. His lips spread into a smile before he even realizes it. “So I am.”

Eventually, the song ends, only for another to start. Now is the perfect time to pull away, to retire for the night, just as he wanted to earlier. Yet Alfonse continues to follow your lead, despite his two left feet and nervous disposition.

We’re not friends with the Summoner, we’re allies, Alfonse had told his sister once. He’d meant it.

Now, he knows that’s not the case. That hasn’t been the case for a long time.

He doesn’t allow himself to think long about just what it is between the two of you. All he knows is that he wants to indulge in this feeling for as long as he possibly can.