#and what if I said she’s my favorite character in the whole series

[the-velvet-worm]

Tamsyn Muir rlly said what if one of the most powerful ppl in my series was a 4’11 neurodivergent teenage girl with 15 mental illnesses and scoliosis who’s in love with a frozen cadaver in an ice cave and relentlessly beats the shit out of the only other child she’s ever known. also strong flavors scare her, kindness confuses her, and human touch repulses her. and she has a canonical bone kink. like what then

[jarofstyles]

Teach Me?

Hello love bugs, we've got a huge one shot here. I see a lot of writing where the guy helps the girl out with inexperience, but I thought I'd like to write something where he's the one asking for help. I had a lot of fun putting this together so I hope you guys like it. I may do more but I have a lot of other stuffed planned but let me know your thoughts!

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WC- 12.3k

Warnings- mentions of insecurity, anxiety, oral, soft!Dom H, soft!Dom Y/N, switchy vibes but mostly Dom!H, Y/N pokes fun at him for being nerdy but she loves it,

"Hey..." Harry began casually, wiping his hands on a towel after washing. Her best friend had invited himself over for dinner, which meant he was going to do the dishes. It was an unspoken rule of their friendship. If you invite yourself, you clean up. But seeing as Y/N was the one who cooked nine out of ten times, it had become a normal to see him at her kitchen sink. Her eyes peeked up at him from her phone, giving him a look to continue. "Can I ask you something? It's a kinda...weird request." He scratched the back of his neck nervously, looking at her with an attempt at puppy dog eyes. He wanted something and it made her narrow her eyes. 

“I’m not going to the convention with you again, Har. It’s not my scene, I told you. I’ll watch any series of movies until our brains leak out our ears but if I have to sit through panels and Q&As where they ask what the characters favorite food is again I may lose my mind.” She knew it was coming up… but apparently that wasn’t his point. Thank God.

 "No! No. Adam is going with me this year. Rude. But besides that…” It made her a lot more curious as to what it could be because he did genuinely look nervous. “It's a weird question, actually." He sat down next to her on the couch, twisting his hands together. "And you can totally say no... but..." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Would you... maybe..." The hesitance had her sitting up a little straighter, raising her brow higher to urge him forward. "God..." He muttered softly, trying to find the words. "You promise not to judge?" He saw her raise an eyebrow. "I mean it. No making fun of me." He watched as she slowly nodded, waiting.

“I make fun of you for a lot of things, but if you’re asking me not to, I won’t. Are you okay?” Y/N asked softly, unused to his behavior. He was usually playful and could take any joke, so it wasn’t exactly like him to ask her not to do it. 

"I'm okay." He assured her, but still had the nervous look in his eyes. "It's just... I've recently realized... kinda an embarrassing thing about myself." He shifted uncomfortably, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "I don’t think… I don’t think I’m actually making girls finish properly when I hook up with them. At least not every time. And I feel like shit about it.”

That was a surprise to her. Harry had the whole hot and nerdy thing going on, and he pulled plenty. Not that he always attempted or took them up on the offers, but he’d had a few girls he had hooked up with that she knew of. Usually he kept pretty quiet about it, but that didn’t bother her. Y/N had assumed a lot about him because… He did have some big dick energy going on. He had really nice hands too. The idea of him being unskilled in bed didn’t feel like it was right, but she was hearing him out. “What’s making you think this?” She asked curiously. “Did someone say something?”

"No, no one's ever said anything. Not to my face." His face flushed slightly pink as he shifted again, trying to get comfortable. "I just... well. Sometimes I noticed they'd tense up or seem kinda disappointed later. Like they were expecting something else. More? I dunno. And they don’t usually text me again, which is fine and all but I hate thinking I let someone down. It’s embarrassing." He avoided looking at her while he talked, staring at his fidgeting fingers instead. "I don't want to be one of those guys who only thinks about themselves. That’s the last thing I want to do." He trailed off, clearly embarrassed. So unlike him that it made her heart hurt a little bit. Harry was a happy guy and seeing him not like that was like seeing a wet puppy in the street. She had to fix it. 

“Well the fact that you even care at all is really good. I know, the bar is on the floor but, unfortunately a lot of men don’t give a shit if we finish or not.” Y/N knew plenty of men- had experienced them herself- that didn’t care if it felt good for her. They wanted a quick nut and go. Harry never seemed to be the type. Honestly, he was very thorough in most things and she’d assumed that would properly bleed over to sex.

 “Wanting to be better is half the battle. You don’t have to be embarrassed about it. The first time I sucked someone off I gagged really awfully, the sound made him go soft.” She laughed at her own bad time. “We all start somewhere.”

He laughed softly at her story, feeling a little more at ease knowing he wasn’t the only one. Y/N was far more experienced and open about being a little freak, so it felt better to know even she had some weirder experiences. It wasn’t just him. "Yeah, I can imagine." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Gagging on dick is not the most pleasant experience, is it?" He turned to look at her, his eyes serious again. "But, um, thanks for listening and all that. I just... I want to be good at it. For them, and for myself." He looked down at his hands again, picking at his fingernails nervously. He needed to paint them again so he would stop doing it. His pink polish was chipped. "And that's why I was wondering…” He bit his lip, his heart racing as he tried to work up the nerve to ask his best friend a very personal favor. The most personal you could probably get.

 "Would you... would you maybe let me practice on you?” The silence lingered for a moment longer than he was okay with, panicking slightly as he continue. “I promise I'll listen to everything you say, and we can stop anytime you want. We don’t even have to! You can say no, obviously.” The man was babbling as he tried to untwist his tongue. “But I really trust you and I think you'd give me good feedback. Honest feedback." He looked up at her with pleading eyes, his cheeks flushed a darker pink that she hadn’t seen before- all the way up to his ears.

“Me?” That… was not at all what she had expected. To be fair she hadn’t been sure what to expect but that would probably be lower on the list. “You want to… practice eating pussy or something, on me? I just want to make sure I heard you correctly.” Because she sure as hell didn’t know if this was some sort of dream or delusion.

Harry nodded quickly, his ears turning an even deeper shade of red. "Yeah, you. I mean, if you're comfortable with it. I know it's a really fucking weird request and all, I swear I’m not trying to make anything weird with us but... you're my best friend, and I trust you. And I know you'd be honest with me." Y/N was known for being honest even if it wasn’t the most appropriate time to be. He looked at her with those big, hopeful eyes, his bottom lip worried between his teeth. "Please? I promise I'll do everything I can to make it good for you, if you let me. I just really want to get better at this."

It could fuck up the friendship. Y/N knew that, because it was every sort of cliche thing that tells you do not, under any circumstances, hook up with your best friend. But… it had been a while. Harry didn’t ask much of her besides her dinners and to go to some events with him so he wasn’t alone. He listened to her rants and brought her food when she was hungry and didn’t want to go out. He made her bed for her sometimes just because he was near and tidy like that. He swept the kitchen after dinner. He bought tickets to movies and concerts on his card and told her to pay him back whenever she could. He protected her if people acted weird at the rare chance they went out to the bar. Harry was a really fucking good friend, the best she’d ever had. 

She also couldn’t lie to herself and say she didn’t think he had a spectacularly pretty mouth and even better hands. They had always been really nice. Soft, long fingers, big palm. The tattoos that trickled down… Fuck. She was going to say yes. Fuck it. “Okay. I guess we can, but I’ve got some rules.”

He blinked, surprised but trying to hide it, his heart racing faster at her surprisingly quick answer. "Rules?" He nodded, leaning forward slightly, completely focused on her words. "Of course. I mean... I'll do anything you say." That came out a bit too smooth, and they both caught the double meaning. He cleared his throat, trying to appear casual and failing miserably. "What are they?" His eyes were fixed on her, his hands folded in his lap to stop them from shaking nervously.

“I mean, I’m being a little dramatic. It’s only a few.” She laughed, leaning back on the couch. “One being we don’t tell anyone. Our friends are already weird about how much time we spend together. Two, you don’t touch me and then another woman. If you find someone else that’s completely fine, but I don’t want her germs and shit on me.” That was not something she liked at all. “If you’re practicing on me, it’s me. I won’t fuck around with other people either, but I don’t fuck with STIs and all that.” It was doubtful he would need to be reminded of that. 

“I’m assuming this is going to be a couple times because the way you get good at stuff is practicing. I won’t complain if I get a few orgasms out of this.” She shrugged as if this was a normal thing to be discussing. Best friends having sex.  “But the last one is you don’t make things weird after you’re all good with your skills. Don’t make stuff weird.”

"Those are..." He cleared his throat, trying to process everything she had just said. "Those are actually very reasonable rules." He nodded, making sure to emphasize each point so she know he heard her loud and clear. "One: Not telling our friends is smart. Two: Of course, no cheating. We aren’t dating but I’m a one woman type of man. My mother raised me better than that. You know she would kill me." He managed a small smile. "Three: I, uh, plan on practicing. A lot, if you let me." His eyes lingered just a moment too long on her lips, then quickly flicked away.

“Good.” Harry was efficient in most things. It’s exactly why she understood how much it probably bothered the hell out of him to not really be able to get a woman off, or so he thinks. She was just being a good friend, right? helping him out. “So walk me through what you usually do when you bring someone home. We start there. I can tell you if something you’re doing is weird.”

He swallowed nervously, trying to collect his thoughts as he shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "Well, uh... usually I'd start by kissing them, ya know? Get them a little worked up before moving down." He gestured vaguely with his hands, as if physically trailing kisses down an imaginary body. "Then I'd kinda... kiss around the area, maybe use my fingers first to make sure they're wet and all..." He trailed off, wincing as he realized how clinical it sounded when he said it out loud.

“That sounds decent, but kind of like a routine.” Harry was like that, she knew, but sex wasn’t. “Not all women are the same, though. We’re all different. You don’t experiment at all to see where her sensitive spots are? Do you keep kissing to the lips and her cunt?” The question was blunt, but she usually was.

"Well... No, actually. I kinda just do the same thing every time." He ran a hand through his hair nervously, realizing how basic that sounded compared to how she spoke about sex. "And yeah, I guess I do stop kissing once I get down there. Why?" He was listening intently, genuinely curious about her approach. For all his perceived experience with women, he was suddenly feeling very inexperienced in this one area. Something about the way she talked about sex was... different. Confident, like it was no big deal.

“Because women are sensual creatures, Harry. Sure, we have similar biological things that happen but the way we get horny is with our minds. Teasing a little. Dirty talk, if you’re good at it, ease into it. Kissing places that aren’t just the obvious.” Shifting to face him, she grabbed one of his hands and put it on her shoulder. He was definitely nervous. It was a little cute. “I’ll give you a cheat sheet for me. I really like to be kissed under my ear, over my throat. Sometimes a lick or a suck. A bite, if I’m in the mood. I like to be kissed over my stomach, tops of my breasts, inner thighs, hips. They aren’t necessarily obvious, but the exploration is nice.” 

Taking his hand, she moved it to her neck and then dragged it down past her tits, down her stomach to the waistband of her joggers. “You can have a general path, but you need to be comfortable deviating from it when that’s what she responds to.”

"Fuck..." The curse slipped out quietly as his breath caught, noticing how comfortable she was with his hand on her body. His fingers lingered at her waistband, acutely aware of the sensitive skin just inches beneath. "I never really thought about it like that. I always just went straight for the pussy." He cleared his throat, realizing how crude that sounded coming out loud. "I mean..." She chuckled at his flustered state, finding it endearing. "So you're saying I should take my time? Like, really tease her out?" He moved his hand slightly, fingertips brushing the bare skin of her lower abdomen just beneath her shirt hem. "Kiss other places, see what makes her squirm?" 

His gaze flickered down to where his hand rested, then back up to meet her eyes. There was a new spark of understanding there, like pieces clicking into place. "And if I find somewhere she likes? I should... explore that?" 

“Yeah.” Her stomach had jumped as he moved his hand but didn’t say anything about it. “Every person is different. I’m sure you have places you like to be touched that people haven’t tried yet either. Being in tune with your body and hers, being able to read the cues that’s what could be your strength.” It was something a lot of men didn’t bother to take into consideration.

"Like, if she makes a certain noise or tenses up?" He was genuinely intrigued now, his mind racing with possibilities. "What if she pulls my hair or digs her nails into my back?" He shifted his hand lower, fingers splaying out on her stomach curiously. "Does that mean she likes it?" He was so focused on the hypotheticals that he almost missed the way his hand resting on her stomach made her stomach muscles twitch slightly beneath his palm.

“Yes, exactly that. Sometimes you’ll be able to feel her pulse if you’re holding her wrist, or.. Well, if you’ve got your hand around her throat. We’ll talk about proper choking another day, but you can see if her pulse jumps from that.” His hands were perfect for that, honestly, and she shouldn’t let her mind wander. Nope. “The noises she makes, if she pulls you further in, bucks her hips, those are all good signs. Not everyone is extremely vocal, but checking in to make sure she likes it, if she wants you to give more, it can help.

"Checking in?" He repeated, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he tried to wrap his head around the idea. "You mean like... asking her if she likes it?" He shifted his hand lower still, fingertips brushing the hem of her joggers. "Like, 'is this okay?' Or 'do you like this?'" He could see how that might be helpful, especially with quieter partners. "But wouldn't that ruin the moment?" He looked up at her, genuinely curious and seeking approval.

“You don’t have to ask in such a sterile way. You can just say something like ‘does that feel good?’ or ‘that’s nice, baby?’ and see her response. You’ve got a nice voice, Har. Use it.” She gave him the compliment easily. He did need a bit of confidence boosting, that much she could already tell. “Checking in shouldn’t ruin the moment. It’s safe, it’s a sign of a good partner. You’ll figure out how to check in in a less… abrupt way.”

"Right... fuck me." He muttered under his breath, actually feeling slightly embarrassed about how little thought he'd put into this before. "I've been a clueless fuck, haven't I?" He sighed, running his fingers along her waistband more deliberately now, testing how she responded. His heart stuttered slightly when she complimented his voice."So like..." He traced patterns on her lower stomach with his fingertips, almost unconsciously. “Feels good?” Testing out the way she had suggested.

Y/N swallowed, feeling a bit of a shift. He had seemed to be having a good time touching her stomach, the light tracing on her skin making her heat up a little bit. She wasn’t blind- Harry had most definitely gotten hotter over the years, and he was just attractive in general. Though she hadn’t allowed herself to look at him as anything but the quirky best friend he was, getting to see a different side of him was something she was intrigued by.

 “Mhm.” She tilted her head slightly to the side. “See? It doesn’t have to be straight into it. Just touches like that can get a girl wet.” It was starting to get to her, weirdly enough. “Tell me about kissing. How do you usually start it?”

"Kissing..." He trailed off, his mind briefly distracted by the way her skin felt beneath his fingers. "Uh... well. I usually start with a simple peck, just to see if they're into it." His other hand came up to gently tilt her chin, exposing her neck to him. "If they seem like I have the go ahead, I'll press my lips to theirs more firmly- it’s kinda hard to explain with words." Being a little bold, he let his thumb brush over her bottom lip absently as he spoke, his gaze fixed on her mouth.

“Well if you’re going to eat me out, I don’t see why you can’t just show me.” Kissing Harry had not been something she had anticipated actually doing, really ever, but she can’t say she hadn’t thought about it. The man had an incredible mouth. Soft looking lips, deep pink, the cute little birthmark, all of it was appealing- it was just that it wasn't a possibility for her prior. “Show me how you do it with them.”

His thumb brushed her bottom lip again, his breath hitching slightly at the idea of kissing her. It was just an exercise, he reminded himself firmly. This was just a dry run, to help him figure out his technique. But as he slowly leaned in, his heart rate picked up, eyes flicking between her lips and onto her eyes. "Like... this." He whispered hoarsely, sliding his hand back into her hair to tilt her head further. His lips pressed to hers gently, just a soft brush at first to test the waters. His lips were soft and warm against hers, the kiss gentle at first. He waited for her to react, to see if she would pull away or lean into it. As she didn't, he took it as his sign to keep going, slowly increased the pressure, his lips molding to hers in a soft, sweet kiss. 

Feeling emboldened when she began to press her lips back to his, Harry peppered her lips with a series of short, sweet kisses. His lips brushed against hers once, twice, three times in rapid succession, each kiss a little firmer than the last. He could feel her starting to relax into it, her lips softening beneath his own. Encouraged, he let his tongue flick out briefly, a teasing taste before pulling back slightly to gauge her reaction. She tasted like the lemon lime soda she’d had with dinner, a sweet surprise. All of this had been. He hadn’t been sure if she would say yes and if this would potentially make things weird, but thankfully Y/N seemed at least a little receptive to it. His hand remained in her hair, holding her gently as he studied her face for any signs of discomfort or approval. “Okay?”

Y/N knew he would be a good kisser, but he was playing it safe. However, even with the safety still on, she knew he had it in him. He wasn’t as shy as he had been before and that had surprised her a bit when he had gripped her to keep her in place. That had been exceptionally hot. At least to her. “Yeah. You did well.” She cleared her throat to rid herself of the rasp. “You’re playing it safe, though. Here.” 

Swinging her knee over his lap, she pushed him back against the back of the couch so his posture was more relaxed. “You’re stiff. Pun not intended.” She snickered, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “You’ve got to relax a little bit. I don’t know if it’s just me or you get anxious when you kiss other girls too. The thing you did holding my face still? That was hot. It’s gonna depend on the girl but you seem to have an idea on what to do.” Placing her hands on his broad shoulders, she settled her weight on top of him. Hm.. he really had been doing well at the gym. “You okay with me on your lap?”

Harry blinked in surprise, trying to catch up to the fact that she was currently in his lap. Closer than she usually got to him, voluntarily hopping on up. “Y-yes! I mean, yes, please. Go on." His voice cracked slightly at the end, betraying his nerves. He wasn’t sure if it was from the unexpected closeness or just the sudden shift in dynamic between them. Her weight felt nice on his lap, but besides a cuddle or two this was definitely the closest they’d ever been. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be nervous.”

Y/N nearly cooed. His frown was precious, really. He was precious. Sliding a hand over his jaw, she tilted his head to meet her eyes. “It’s okay to be nervous, but it’s just me. I’m not going to judge you. You asked for my help, and I’m gonna give it to you.” Slipping her fingers in his hair, she made herself familiar with touching him. They hadn’t been super touchy to begin with but she knew Harry liked physical touch. He was clingy with their other friends physically, but he had always respected that Y/N typically wasn’t the type. Now though? It was free game. “You can touch me how you want. Get familiar with me.”

Y/N wasn’t the type to truly judge if you really needed her and he knew that. Hell, that was why he had come to her in the first place- but she was intimidatingly beautiful. It set him off to be even more nervous. His mind briefly wondered if this was how he was in bed- overthinking everything- maybe that was why he didn’t get calls back. 

“Shit.” He muttered softly, then snapped back to attention as she told him to touch her. He wanted to do that, he had always wanted to but Y/N only really liked to be cuddled when drunk. When she was, she would be giggly and happy, hold on to his hand and swing them back and forth, especially when he helped her get into the car. It had always made him feel special, but this? It was a privilege to touch her. Hesitantly, he wrapped his arms loosely around her, testing the waters. “Like this?” He spread his fingers out slightly on her back, his thumbs nearly brushing the bottom of her bra strap under her top.

“Yeah, that’s nice.” Leaning into him, she let her fingers run over the rims of his glasses. “These are cute. I like them.” His new glasses suited him. They were a little bit thinner than his old ones and it was a tad bit more modern. She hadn’t been lying to him when she said he had the hot n’ nerdy advantage. “You’ve got really nice hands, Har. Use them.”

He blushed slightly at the compliment on his glasses, his fingers tightening slightly on her waist possessively. "You really think?" He asked softly, tilting his head to the side to give her better access to his face. He liked when she did little things like that, adjusting his glasses or messing with his hair. Maybe it was because he felt touch starved, particularly from her, but the simple brushes of her fingers made him feel that heat in his lower stomach. It was so simple but the air felt a lot thicker than it had before. He took a deep breath, steeling his nerves to be more bold as he slowly dragged his hands over her hips.

“Mhm.” She nodded, gently running her nails over his scalp. “See? I’m not too scary.” Though she had to admit that the feeling of his big hands pawing at her and running over her hips and waist made her feel a little bit giddy. Maybe she could attribute it to the fact it really had been a while since she had been touched in a way that wasn’t friendly, but her body liked the way it felt. “You’re being polite, which is nice. But as cute as your little gentleman thing is, I know you want to grab my ass, Harry. You can do it.”

Harry's breath caught as she said that, his eyes darkening slightly behind his glasses. He had definitely been thinking about it, doubted there was anyone who saw it and didn’t want to, but he hadn't wanted to overstep. Hearing her give him permission was like a green light and he couldn't help himself. His hands squeezed her hips before slowly sliding down to grip her ass, his fingers spreading out to knead the soft flesh. "Fuck..." He muttered under his breath, his voice hoarse. "You're so soft."

His grip on her ass tightened reflexively as he pulled her more firmly against him, a low groan escaping his lips. The heat of her pressed deliciously against his hardening cock, and he couldn't help but roll his hips slightly, seeking friction. "Shit, Y/N...Sorry. I don't want to get carried away." He breathed, his face flushing darker. Here he was, rock hard with his best friend in his lap, from a little ass grab. It was embarrassing how quickly he had gotten worked up- But God, it felt good.

There was a sigh out of her mouth as she felt him start to relax and do what he wanted to do. This was closer to where she wanted him to get, but she hadn’t expected it to feel as good just being rubbed over his lap. “There you go- it’s okay.” She whispered. “That’s hot. You want to show her that you’re eager for her.” With her grip in his hair, she tugged his head back slightly to look at his pink cheek. “You’re a faster learner, I know. But you remember what I told you? Try kissing my neck. I told you the spots I like.”

His eyes fluttered shut as she tugged on his hair, his throat exposed to her. "Yeah. I can do it. S’long as you feel good, m’happy..." He whispered, his voice rougher than she had ever heard it. Leaning into her touch, he let her guide his face into her neck and followed instructions quickly to press open mouth kisses to her skin. He started at the spot just below her ear, as she had told him about, sucking gently on the soft skin. His hands continued to grab at her ass, pulling her flush against him as he kissed and sucked his way down her neck.

The kisses trailed lower, his lips hot and damp against her neck. Each press of his mouth made chills rise on her skin, his stubble lightly scratching her sensitive skin in the most delicious way. As he sucked gently on a particularly sweet spot, she couldn't help but tip her head to give him better access, a soft gasp escaping her lips. None of this had been expected, but liking his mouth on her skin hadn’t been. Maybe it really was just the fact it had been a while but… it felt better than her last hookup. 

Harry was her friend and she trusted him. She felt safe, and that probably made her feel a lot more comfortable, just as it probably did for him. But having his hands all over her was something her whole body was responding to.  A quick learner, he had realized how much she liked feeling the friction and did something about it. His strong hands gripped her ass harder, pulling her over his lap and letting feel the throb of him through their clothes.

He could feel her getting heavier in his lap, her breath growing shallow as he continued his adoration of her neck. It felt amazing, yes, but he was in a bit of awe. Harry really should have known that Y/N didn’t half ass anything. She was thorough in everything she did- apparently it extended to teaching him how to please a woman. His hands roamed freely as he adjusted, taking a risk in spreading her legs wider over his lap to better fit her between his thighs.

 "Am I doing okay?" He mumbled into her neck, his voice muffled. "Is this warming you up enough? Or should I be doing more?" His fingers flexed on her hips before sliding down, spreading out to rest on her thighs.

“You’re doing good.” The thickness in her throat made her voice a bit raspier, unsure how she had managed to let herself get to this point. It felt really fucking good. His hands strong and so fucking big, splaying over her thighs. The heat of them seeming to radiate through her skin and down to her bones, she wanted to lean into that touch.

 God, she was touch deprived. 

He had done a good job in making her panties damp and it felt almost embarrassing that a little bit of heavy petting and kissing on the neck had her pussy throbbing, but she couldn’t exactly deny it. Lightly rubbing herself against him again to get more of the friction her body was demanding, she closed her eyes and let her head lean back before she admitted it to him. “You’re making me wet.”

His whole body seemed to tense up at her whispered admission, his hands flexing on her as he took a breath. "You are?" He whispered back, his voice not able to contain his surprise. He had hoped he was doing something right- especially after all the apparent failures he’d had- but hearing that she was wet from just his touch and kisses was... something else. He wasn't used to being this effective. His ego swelled slightly, making him bolder. "Can I... touch more?" He asked hesitantly, his fingers inching higher up her thighs. "Can I feel what I’m doing to you?"

His words had her gritting his teeth. Where the fuck did that come from, and why did it made her throb? Letting out a breath through her nose, she opened her eyes to look at him. It shocked her a little, seeing his lips swollen and eyes a little hazy, glasses a tiny bit crooked. He looked disheveled in a way he usually didn’t. Of course he had always been hot but this look in particular, knowing it was caused by her specifically? It fueled her ego too. 

“Y-Yeah.” She nodded, clearing her throat. “Yeah, you can. That’s what I’d tell you to do next. You have good instincts.” It was a mystery to her how Harry, who was good at almost everything, had struggled to make a girl cum- but she was the teacher now. “You can slip your hand into the waistband.”

"Fuck. Thank you." Harry muttered under his breath. He couldn't believe he was actually about to touch Y/N intimately, after all these years of being just friends… It was insane. He wasn’t unable to see how insanely fucking hot she was, that had never been an issue. He’d had a few questionable wet dreams about her- but the actual idea of ever touching her hadn’t come up until recently, and he was liking it a bit more than he probably should be for a lesson.

 With trembling fingers, he slowly slipped one large hand down the front of her joggers, sliding it along her stomach until he reached the top of her panties. "Can... can I? Under them?" His breath was warm against her neck as he asked permission, albeit a bit jumbled, waiting for her nod before slowly slipping under the final piece of fabric that kept him from her most intimate place.

At her nod, he released a deep breath through his nose. His heart was racing as he slowly pushed his hand under her panties, the back of his fingers brushing against the soft, damp fabric. He could feel the heat emanating from between her legs, his own body responded accordingly. His cock was pulsing in his briefs, surely starting to make a bit of a mess. "Holy shit." Harry breathed, his voice shaking slightly as he explored her with his hand. His fingers dipped lower, feeling the slickness coating her folds. “You really are fucking soaked.” Tilting his head up with an awed smile, he met her eyes. “I did that t’you?”

“Mhm.” It felt slightly harder to breathe as she looked at his eyes, seeing the pride in his face, feeling his fingers cupping her wet pussy and giving a little squeeze. It had her inhaling sharply, fingers on his shoulder digging into his shirt. “You did. I- I want you to show me what you do when you get to this stage with the girls you hook up with.” It was taking everything in her not to rock against his hand, staying still as she tried to ground herself.

His fingers trembled slightly as he tried to mimic what he thought he had seen in porn or heard from his friends. He had forgotten what to do. Another symptom of his damn nerves taking over. He roughly spread her lips apart, his thumb pressing against her clit as his middle finger pushed inside her soaked pussy. "Shit... I'm... I'm not really sure what to do..." He admitted, his voice shaking as he started to rub her clit in slightly sporadic circles while thrusting his finger inside her. It was clumsy and a bit rough, but he was trying his best.

“Okay- alright. Stop.” Making sure to keep her voice soft and not like she was scolding him, she held his face in her hands. “You’re jumping right into it a bit too fast, Honey.” The nickname fell from her lips a bit too easily but she decided to ignore that. “You need to ease into it. Find a rhythm. Pull your fingers out.” She instructed, gently stroking over his cheekbone. It was obvious he was embarrassed from his flushed cheeks, and she didn’t want that. He wasn’t doing too badly, but he’d asked for a lesson. That’s what she was going to give him.

 “Hey… Look at me.” Tilting his chin up, she gave him a soft smile. “S’okay, Har. You came to me for help. I’m gonna help you. You didn’t do anything inherently wrong.” Still, she could see he felt some type of way about it, and she knew he needed a bit more comforting. Leaning in, her lips pressed against his in a soft peck. It was more intimate than it should have been, but she was again, going to ignore that. “Hi.” Smoothing the skin under his eye, she gave him a giggle. “Okay, so… You’ve got incredible hands. They’re so nice… and I know you can be good with them. So let’s start slow, okay? Do slow circles over my clit with your thumb. Nice n’gentle.”

His shoulders had dropped slightly after her small kiss, ignoring the flutter he’d felt in his chest from it. He hadn't realized how tense he had gotten, like he had failed the test- but this was Y/N. Y/N was safe, she was kind despite how blunt she was, and she was helping him. There was no evidence of her making fun of him in her tone, simply sweet. Unusual, maybe, but it seemed like she knew what she needed. 

"Okay." He mumbled softly, his cheeks slightly less red. Her compliments helped a bit- He had always had confidence issues when it came to this. "Like this?" He asked shyly, his large thumb slowly making small, loose circles over her clit. He was careful to keep his touch gentle like she asked, watching her face for any signs that he was doing it wrong again.

He felt her body tense pleasantly at his touch, a soft exhale escaping her lips. Encouraged by her response, he maintained the slow circles, his thumb brushing over her clit with deliberate gentleness. Her hips gave a tiny involuntary roll against his hand, seeking more of the pleasant friction. Harry's fingers twitched slightly, wanting to increase his pace but remembering her instruction. He resisted the urge, keeping the rhythm maddeningly slow.

“Yeah. That’s so nice.” She whispered. It was experimenting, letting him explore and get the hang of it. “Every woman is different. Some people will want it faster, some will want it rougher, but I like this to start.” She admitted, leaning into him. “Here.” Dragging the cropped top off of her body, she exposed the lacy bralette she had heard good reviews for to him. It was quite nice, holding her tits up in a way she hasn’t expected- but she’d chosen correctly today, unknowing that a man would be able to see it firsthand. “When you’re doing this, you keep kissing her. Licking. Sucking her nipples, if she’s into it.”

His eyes roamed over her bralette-clad breasts, the delicate lace contrasting with her soft, smooth skin. He felt his mouth watering, the urge to taste her growing stronger as he watched them move as she breathed- but thankfully, thank god, she had given the go ahead to touch. To taste. "Okay. I definitely can do that." He murmured, his thumb continuing its slow circles on her clit as he leaned in to press open-mouthed kisses to her collarbone.

His lips trailed lower, his kisses growing more intentional. The lace of her bralette tickled his lips as he worked his way down. He could see her nipples hardening beneath the fabric, making his mouth water. His thumb continued its steady, slow rhythm on her clit, causing her to shift slightly in his lap. It was surreal to feel her breathing, hear it so close up as he kissed over her pounding heart. 

He was doing this to her. Harry was making her wet, making her squirm. The confidence the breathy moan she let out had him pushing for more. With one hand, he gently pushed the lace down to expose one breast fully, making her gasp softly. His lips immediately found her hard nipple, surrounding it completely and sucking gently.

“Oh, Jesus.” The words were pathetically, a mewl that came from the back of her throat as his hot tongue lapped over her swollen nipple. The suction was light, soft, just like his thumb on her clit- and it was enough to make her feel like she was going insane. “T-That’s really fucking nice.” She praised, raising her hand to card it through his fluffy curls. He must have just washed them, they always looked pretty when he did.

Hearing her moan like that, praising him so freely, sent a jolt straight to his cock. He hummed around her nipple, the vibrations deliberate this time. His tongue flicked over the hardened bud before he switched to sucking harder, desperate to elicit another gorgeous noise from her.

“Yeah- like that.” Rocking her hips slightly into his hand, she pulled his head closed onto her breast. It felt too good, too hot to stop. Yeah, this was a lesson, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t enjoy teaching him. “Some girls won’t get much enjoyment out of this. Their nipples aren’t sensitive to it as much. If they aren’t responsive, you can keep it moving- or a-ask them if they want you to keep going.” Her voice was higher in pitch than she had meant for it to be but it wasn’t possible for her to control that right now. “I really like it, though. So it’s doing the job. You can rub my clit a little harder- give it more pressure.”

Her words had him nearly purring around her nipple. The little thrill went up his spine as her hips rolled into his hand, knowing that now he had a decent idea of what he was doing and could feel less nervous about it. Listening to instructions like he had promised he would, Harry added more pressure to his thumb, rubbing it harder over her little bundle of nerves. It was impossible not to feel her getting slicker against his palm, her breast filled his mouth perfectly, his tongue swirling around the peak before sucking it back between his lips. Almost overstimulation for his mind, but he wanted to keep going. He was trying his best to be good with his hands- he really was- But damn. Her body was so responsive.

Y/N wanted to continue this as long as she could. She wanted to feel him get more and more confident with it, but he seemed to have a grasp on it. There would probably be… a few times where they’d get to do this, and if she was honest? If they kept this up, she was going to cum and be too sensitive for his mouth. And by the way he kissed? She wanted to feel his mouth. 

“Mmmm.. Har, Honey.” She whispered, gently tugging his mouth off of her tits with a gentle tug of his hair. “Hi. Hello.” It was stupidly cute, the slightly lost look on his face. “S’okay. You were doing good. A bit too good actually. I just think that we should get to teaching you how to eat pussy. I’ll cum if you keep going.”

He blinked rapidly, a slightly dazed look on his face as he tried to process why he’d been pulled away when he’d obviously been making her feel good. It felt incredible to have her nipple in his mouth, hearing her soft noises of pleasure. The haze of lust in his mind slowly cleared at her words, realizing she was probably right, even if he selfishly wanted to keep going. "Oh..." He murmured softly, a slight blush spreading across his cheeks. "Right. Okay." He adjusted his glasses, trying to regain some semblance of focus.

“Good.” She stroked his hair back with a tender smile, pulling him to kiss her again before taking a look at his face. “I’m gonna lay back, like this.” Sliding off his lap, Y/N settled against the arm of the couch pulling a pillow to rest her head on. The position had her sitting up slightly, but gave a more relaxed vision. Hopefully that would have him feeling calmer. “And you’re gonna lay between my legs once I get these off.” Her bottoms needed to get off immediately. 

When he sat back, she tugged on the waistband and squirmed to get them off, haphazardly kicking them to the floor- along with her panties. There wasn’t much hesitance in showing her body to him. Y/N liked her body, she felt proud of it, and she embraced it. There was always those nerves though, being intimate with someone new- even if it was for a lesson. Spreading her thighs, she placed a hand over her cunt and motioned for him to lay down. “Do you remember what I said, Honey? About teasing?”

He nodded slowly, trying to remember all the instructions she had given him. "Tease first..." He murmured softly, adjusting his glasses nervously as he positioned himself between her thighs. Using his elbows to keep him up a bit, he swallowed the lump in his throat as he watched her spread them wider for his body to fit between. "Kiss, lick, don't go straight for the... the main event?" He asked hesitantly, his hands resting on her inner thighs.

“Very good.” Her face lit up as he looked at her for reassurance. “It’s the little things that get me. You know? The soft brushing of fingers on the thighs, the stomach, right above my pussy…” She trailed off with a sigh. “Kiss my thighs, Har. Can you do that for me?” Taking her hand off her cunt, she properly revealed it for the first time for his eyes to see.

Harry felt the breath catch in his throat as the sight of her bare pussy caught him off guard. It wasn’t lost on him that he was very lucky to be able to experience this. Y/N was beautiful and he adored her, but there was a new appreciation in him for how kind she was being. This wasn’t something you could just ask anyone. "Fuck..." He whispered, his hands squeezing her inner thighs gently as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to the delicate skin. "Like this?" He murmured, pressing open-mouthed kisses along her sensitive skin, his lips brushing over the crease where her leg met her hip.

“Mhm.” 

He could see her body relax into the touch, her thighs parting a bit more to give him better access. Her skin was so soft and warm under his lips, and he could smell her scent growing stronger the closer he got to her center. Harry took his time, pressing gentle kisses along her inner thighs, his hands brushing along the skin in a featherlight touch. He could hear her breathing growing a bit shallower, her chest rising and falling a bit faster. It emboldened him to continue, to keep teasing her like she had told him to.

"You're... you're doing so good." Y/N breathed out, one hand coming to rest in his hair as she spread her legs wider, hooking one over his shoulder. She could feel herself growing wetter with each kiss, more aroused knowing he was taking his time to learn her body. Such a good little student. "Lower. Just a bit..." she whispered, guiding his head with gentle fingers. Her other hand drifted down to her breast, plucking at her nipple as she watched him between her legs. "Kiss right above my cunt.”

Eagerly following her guidance, he moved up to press a soft kiss just above her pussy, his lips brushing against her soft curls. He could feel the heat radiating off of her, smell her arousal. It was intoxicating, and he found himself nuzzling into her a bit, his nose pressing against her. "Fuck, you smell so good..." he murmured, his voice muffled against her skin. He pressed another kiss right at the top of her slit.

“Oh fuck- that was good.” She gasped in surprise. “That’s filthy. Rubbing yourself against me but… it’s so hot. Showing how eager you are to make the person you’re gonna pleasure, it’s really sexy.” Brushing his hair out of his face, she felt the heat of his breath over her cunt. “Tell me you want to eat me out. Talk to me.”

"I do..." His voice came out huskier than he'd planned, his eyes flicking up to meet hers briefly before focusing back on her exposed pussy. "Fuck, Y/N... I really want t’taste you." Without waiting for further instruction, he used his fingers to spread her open for him and pressed a gentle kiss directly to her clit, making her gasp loudly. "You're so fucking wet… Can’t believe I did this." His finger traced down her slit slowly, as if showing instead of telling how aroused she was.

"Your cunt is fucking glistening. I can already tell your pussy is sweet..." He muttered against her skin, his tongue peeking out to give her one soft lick. Tasting her for the first time, savoring the flavor on his tongue, he was proving that fact. She was perfect to taste- a pussy like this deserved the best of the best, and he wanted her to show him exactly what she liked. Y/N moaned loudly, her hips rolling slightly, a clear indication that she liked what he was doing. "Yeah? You like that? S’good for you?" Harry asked, his voice encouraging as he licked her again, this time a bit slower, applying a bit more pressure.

“Uh-huh… Shit.” She cussed, feeling his tongue swipe up and over her clit. “D-Do what you want. Let me see where it’s going wrong because right now from my perspective, you’re doing perfectly.” Why would he even need help? Was it a ploy to fuck her? That was doubtful considering Harry really, really wasn’t like that. The worst part was that she was liking it a lot more than she was supposed to. If she was training him on how to pleasure how she liked it, it was going to be hard not to lose it.

Harry smiled slightly at her words, feeling a bit more confident in his actions. He started slowly, his tongue flicking out to lap at her gently, his fingers keeping her open for him to fully access her. He could feel her wetness spread onto his chin, and he couldn't help but push himself, wrapping his lips around her clit and sucking softly. He looked up at her, checking her face for any signs of discomfort or pleasure.

He was learning, trying to remember how she had said she liked it. His tongue swiped up again, swirling around her entrance slowly before pushing inside slightly. "Like this?" He mumbled softly, his chin wet with her juices. He kept his movements slow and unhurried, his touch soft. He was tentative, like he was scared of messing up. "Is this good?"

“I.. Normally would say that’s a bit fast to push your tongue in but fuck, that felt nice.” She giggled breathlessly. “Here…” Her fingers were careful as she took his glasses off and tossed them further down the couch so they wouldn’t get in the way- or worse, crushed. “Wanted to see those pretty eyes.” Her fingers kept the hair out of his eyes as she felt a few kisses over her mound, in the thatch of curls above her cunt. His face was slightly wet, but it was erotic. “That feels so nice. The kisses…” She hummed. “You have the instincts. Don’t think too much about it. Doing things like that- That’s good. Just make me feel good. See what I respond to.”

Harry blinked owlishly at her, surprised by the sudden loss of his glasses but pleased when he realized she liked his eyes. His face flushed slightly at the praise, his tongue darting out to lick over her clit hesitantly. "Okay. You’ll tell me if y’don’t like it, yeah?" He asked, his breath ghosting over her sensitive flesh. He leaned in, pressing open-mouthed kisses to her pussy, the sound drowning out the tv playing at a lowered volume.

She nodded slowly, watching him between her thighs. He was almost shy like this, his face buried in her pussy as he kissed around it sweetly. His lips were soft, his kisses unhurried. He spread her wider with his thumbs, his tongue poking out to give her one slow lick from bottom to top. Her hips shifted slightly, chasing the feeling.  "You taste so good." He mumbled softly, his voice sending vibrations against her. “I didn’t expect you t’get so wet for me. Soaking my chin. I love it.”

His words seemed to have struck a chord in her, judging by how sharply her breath hitched and her legs involuntarily tried to press around his head. She visibly flustered, clearly flattered by his filthy compliments- and shocked. Had he always had that in him? "Harry..." She whimpered, the sound of his wet mouth against her flesh combined with his sweet, dirty words making her pulse against his tongue. "You... should be careful with that mouth." She whispered, her hand tangling in his hair again, guiding him slightly without putting any pressure.

He chuckled softly, the vibrations traveling pleasantly through her core. "Why's that?" He murmured teasingly against her skin, his tongue darting out for another long, slow lick. He could feel her practically melting under his mouth, her thighs quivering slightly. This was how it was supposed to be. Maybe it was because he didn’t feel as anxious with her, they had repor, he truly trusted her- but it felt like he had a better sense of her body and what she liked. 

She’d given him clues and tips, but he was finding out on his own what she liked. It was something he was enjoying the longer he did it, feeling more eager to bury his face in her pretty pussy and never leave. Especially when he felt her hand tighten in his hair and her body shift to get more. "Worried I might make you cum too hard?" His tone was playful, a little more confident now, and that was dangerous for her. Feeling him nipp gently at her clit, soothing it with a flicker of his tongue immediately after was enough proof of that. Looking up at her he tried to see if that was okay, but the noise she let out had him feeling fairly sure it was.

"Fuck, Harry... You smartass.” The giggle turned into a pitched moan very quickly after though, her back arching as he sucked on her clit in retaliation, her hips rolling against his mouth. Harry could feel her getting closer, her pussy getting wetter. He knew the signs, she was teaching him. His hands gripped her hips tightly, holding her in place as he licked into her eagerly. She was so responsive, her body reacting to his every move. He felt powerful, in control- and it was a heady feeling.

"Jesus, your pussy is perfect." He mumbled between kisses, not caring if she could hear him. He could see her getting close- her thighs trembling, her breathing quickening, and the way her fingers were now tight in his hair. That was his goal. He wanted to make her cum so fucking bad it hurt. His cock was a mess in his trousers but he didn’t care. All he wanted was to make her cum, hard. He wanted to clean it up as he made himself messy. "Do you want my fingers inside you?" He whispered, not missing a beat with his mouth returning to his suckling. He kept the pace steady but increased the pressure just slightly, wanting to hear her response.

"Yes..." Y/N  breathed out the single word, squirming helplessly against his face. His mouth felt incredible and he obviously felt better about what he was doing now, taking more risks that only worked out in her favor. "So good, honey. You’re doing so good, your mouth is perfect." 

How had he been bad with these other women? All it took was a little bit of instruction with a soft voice and he was licking into her like she was his last fucking meal. 

She gasped, her nails nearly digging into his scalp as he slipped one finger inside her easily. "Your fingers are so big. Holy shit..." She panted, grinding down on his hand. "More..." She begged, knowing damn well she hadn’t wanted to be this needy for it but god damn. He was a good student. A very fast learner. "Please." The woman’s voice cracked with need. "Harry, please..."

He curled his fingers slightly inside her, hitting that spot he’d read about but had never actually found on a woman before. He must be doing it right, because she was practically sobbing his name, her hips bucking against his hand. He added another finger, stretching her slowly but surely, his tongue never stopping its slow, deliberate lapping. 

It was obvious what she liked, what made her feel good, and he wanted to keep doing it. Memorize it so he knew how to do it perfectly next time- or continue practicing until he had it down. His head felt fuzzy with the need to get her there, to make her feel hot under the skin like he had been clueless about before. "Look at me." he mumbled against her, his voice muffled but insistent. He wanted to see her face contort with pleasure, wanted to watch her get closer.

It felt like her entire world had narrowed down to his fingers inside her and his tongue on her clit. It really had been far too long since she’d been touched and even longer since she had been eaten out with this amount of vigor. Maybe it hadn’t ever happened prior to him, but her brain wasn’t fully working. She was so close, teetering on the edge and he just... he just kept pushing her. Adding more, curling just right, licking and sucking in a rhythm that seemed designed to drive her insane. 

Y/‘ couldn’t see him fully, not with his face buried smugly between her thighs, but she managed to lift her head, her eyes finding his own as he had demanded. The intensity in his gaze, the desperate need, it was too much. “Just like that, you’re going t’make me cum. Just like that, keep it like that- fuck.” Her groan seemed angry but it was anything but. She was worked over and sulking at how good it felt. “Shit, you love eating pussy. Don’t you, Harry? Just needed s-someone to show you how they like it.”

"Fuck yeah." He breathed against her, his eyelids drooping with pleasure at her accusation. He loved this, every fucking second. The slick sounds of her arousal, the way her pussy clenched around his fingers, the taste, how she grabbed at his hair, the sounds she made, the changes in her breathing, her squirming, the way her words slurred a little bit, the pulsing against his tongue. 

God. Harry fucking loved it- he just didn’t know it could be this good. Addicting.

The vibrations as he groaned happily between her lips had to be adding something extra. "Knew I'd love it. Jus’ want to be able to make you feel good."

"Cum on my face baby, okay? Just let go. I wanna taste you." He whispered hoarsely, pressing a sloppy kiss to her clit before sucking it back into his mouth. His fingers curled again and again inside her, hitting that elusive spot over and over as she dripped all over his fingers and down the back of his hand. He wanted to make her shatter, wanted to feel her cum all over his face and fingers like he had been working toward.

There was no way she could even respond properly. The constant stimulation to her g-spot, his repeated sucking on her clit, the way he sloppily ate her cunt with little regard of the mess she was making on his face- the only thing he seemed to give a fuck about was making her cum. Who was she to take that from him?

 Her body tensed, her back arching as she let out a long, drawn-out moan. It was a sound of pure pleasure, her entire being focused on the overwhelming sensation of him working her over. She came hard, her pussy clamping down on his fingers as she gushed all over his face and hand. Her hand was tight in his locks, tugging as a garbled moan left her mouth and she attempted to writhe. He kept her held still as he moaned loudly against her.

In fact, Harry didn’t stop. Even as she came, he kept eating her, his fingers still curled inside her as he lapped up her cum, cleaning her up. He was fucking starving for it, for the taste and the sound and the feeling of her losing control. He sucked and licked her pussy, feeling it spasming occasionally, until he was certain he had cleaned up every last drop- And her weak push of her hand against his head. Only then did he slowly pull his fingers out, his face and hand coated in her.

She was a goddess, slumped back against the cushions with a flushed, dazed expression. Harry couldn't help but kiss her inner thigh as it twitched before wiping his mouth. "Fuck, you’re amazing." The man murmured. Crawling up her body, he claimed her lips in a messy kiss, letting her taste herself. “Thank you.” It was mumbled between lazy kisses. “Thank you, Thank you.”

His hands roamed over her as he continued to kiss her sloppily, his body heavy on top of hers. He was still fully dressed, his erection painfully trapped in his pants. "Y/N... I’m sorry, but can I?" He asked softly, his fingers already working at the button of his jeans, his intent clear. "I gotta cum. Can I cum on your cunt? Please?” If he wasn’t so horny he would be embarrassed for doing this, but he was losing it. When it died down, he would definitely be embarrassed for how insane he sounded, but he couldn’t help it. Maybe the lack of blood flow to the head, it was going directly to the other.

“Shit.” Y/N laughed weakly, her body feeling like pins and needles as it came down from the orgasm. The idea was one she had considered, especially with how good he had listened- a reward. “Yeah, Honey. As a reward.” She sighed, leaning her head up further. “I wanna watch.”

He almost whined at her words, practically tearing his jeans open wide enough to pull out his stiff cock. He pushed his pants down towards his calves, staying there between her spread legs. His hand gripped his dick tightly, squeezing as he looked up at her face from his spot between her legs. "Yeah- yeah, please watch. I love being watched.” His hips moved forward unconsciously as he ran his cock over her, the head of his dick smearing pre-cum all over her cunt.

“Cute little exhibitionist.” Y/N cooed, running her hand over her stomach. “Go ahead. You’ve got such a pretty cock, but it looks like it hurts.” Her lips formed a soft pout. “Stroke yourself and cum all over that pussy, Harry.”

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He chanted under his breath, his hand moving faster over his shaft. With his tip pressing against her clit, he ran it up and down her slit. "You're so pretty. Your cunt is beautiful- all of you, so fucking gorgeous." He complimented her, his words coming out in short gasps. It was so hot, the way her lips spread around him, how she looked all fucked out and messy from his mouth. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum all over you, baby."

Y/N looked up at him with a soft, encouraging smile, her eyes staring into his with that tinge of desire. "Cum for me, Harry. Cum all over my pretty little pussy. I wanna see it, I wanna see you lose it." Her hand moved down to spread herself, holding herself open for him. "You've been so good, so obedient. You deserve it. Such a good student, a fast learner… You can have it. Cum on my cunt." Her voice was gentle but commanding, the perfect blend of sweet and dirty that had him right on the edge.

"Fuck, Y/N..." Harry whimpered, his eyes fluttering shut as her words pushed him over the edge. With a final thrust of his hips, he came undone. He felt the first spurt of his hot, sticky cum hit her pussy lips, coating them in his release. He groaned loudly, his body shuddering as he pumped out rope after rope of cum, covering her cunt completely. "Oh my god... Oh my god."

Even as he finished cumming, a few last spurts dribbling out to make a mess across her lower stomach, he couldn't look away from where his cum coated her pussy lips, right in her thatch curls and the surrounding skin. It was obscene, filthy, and he loved it. Y/N had made him lose his mind a bit, but he didn’t really want to find it.

Breathing heavily, he finally met her gaze with a slightly embarrassed but mostly pleased grin. "Holy fuck, that was hot." He murmured, swallowing hard. "Never done that before. Came so fucking hard..."

"Good, cause you made a mess." She giggled, watching him as his chest heaved. The sight of his stomach and abs glistened with a light sheen of sweat- his hair was ruffled and he looked like he’d had a workout instead of jerking off on her body. "You like that, I think. Making a mess." She asked softly, watching as he continued to stroke himself slowly, milking himself. Her eyes were drawn back to his dick. It really was beautiful- and really fucking big. “Where the hell were you hiding that? God damn.”

He couldn't help but chuckle at her comment, glancing down at his slowly softening dick with a smirk. "Guess I just needed the right inspiration, huh?" He teased lightly, finally releasing his grip on himself and leaning forward to rest his forearms on either side of her head, caging her in slightly. His face was mere inches from hers now, his glasses gone and his hair disheveled in the sexiest way possible. “Just need t’do this before we clean up and act normal again. Don’t yell at me.”

His mouth claimed hers slowly, lips moving softly against hers. He licked into her mouth slowly, like he was savoring her taste, his body half covering hers. His hand cupped her cheek as he deepened the kiss slowly, like he was trying to imprint himself onto her. Just as quick as it started though, it was over. She shouldn’t have been so sad about that. He pulled back slowly, his forehead resting against hers. His eyes opened slowly to find her watching him softly, their lips still wet and swollen from the kiss. He grinned slightly, licking his lips again. “See? Not so bad.”

“Yeah.” She laughed, feeling dazed. Who the fuck was this? And why did he kiss so good it made her toes curl? Who was this and what had they done to her best friend? “I think your problem isn’t that you don’t have skill. Naturally you seem to get it. I think you’ve just gotten into your own head and you think too much.” She had been a safe person and it was easier for him to lose that anxiety with her, knowing she had already agreed to teach him. 

“It can be hard to perform if you’re not able to properly get into it. Your dick can be hard as nails, but your mind not being in it will be a mood killer and they’re gonna know.” The smile on her face was slightly sad but she knew it was what he had to hear. “Because honestly? I haven’t orgasmed like that in ages. All it took was a few tweaks and you had it down. Maybe you just aren’t a hookup guy. Did that feel a lot different than the other people?” Maybe he needed someone who could openly communicate. The expectation of someone just knowing wasn’t always fair. 

"Yeah." He hesitated, shifting slightly to prop himself up on one elbow next to her. His other hand traced patterns on her stomach absentmindedly. "It was... different." He seemed to struggle with the words for a moment. "With those other girls, I was always nervous. Overthinking every single fucking thing. Like you said." He glanced at her face, a slight blush forming across his cheeks. "With you... it felt natural. Real. And fuck, listening to you moan like that… Where did those lungs come from?"

“You freak!” She laughed, pushing his shoulder to get him to sit up. Adjusting her bralette back over her breasts she didn’t bother with the bottoms yet, because she really needed to go clean up. Secretly she was pleased that she had been different. It was so cliche to say it, but she wanted to be different than them. She just… wasn’t quite sure why yet. Her brain hadn’t come back down to earth fully and she couldn’t be bothered to truly question it. “You won’t need many lessons on how to pleasure a woman with results like that, I’m telling you that. Good job.” Reaching out, she squished his cheeks with a soft coo before he shot her a look.

"Oi!" He laughed, swatting her hand away playfully but with a big smile on his face. "Don't treat me like a puppy. And..." He hesitated, reaching up to cup her face gently, his thumb brushing her lower lip. "Did it really feel that good? I mean." His voice dropped to a slightly embarrassed whisper. "Am I actually good at this stuff?" For someone who had just made her orgasm so hard, he suddenly seemed insecure again. Like he needed validation. "I know you don’t lie like that, but it just feels weird. Cause everyone else seemed disappointed… I thought I’d be completely awful.”

“Oh, H.” She frowned at his vulnerability. “It was really good for me. I think maybe you just need some lessons on how to let go and relax when you’re being intimate. And I’m happy to teach you that.” Brushing her hand over his stubble she gave his chin a pinch. “Trust me. I’d tell you if you needed a lot of work. It can be hard for women to cum from oral sometimes too. It’s hit or miss for me, and you had me cumming so easily so, I would say it was probably a mix of feeling safe and you having some good natural instincts you couldn’t tap into before because you were anxious and your brain was in overdrive.” Pulling him into a hug, she squeezed him lightly as she inhaled his scent. He smelled like mint and sex, with a tinge of laundry detergent. Appropriate. 

“When I’m done with you, we’ll have it all squared away and figured out. Okay? Don’t think about those times. Think about the fact you’re gonna get to fuck your really hot best friend.” Standing up from the couch with a laugh and a pat to his head, she walked to the bathroom to get herself clean- and take a minute to breathe. Her chest was doing a weird thing it hadn’t before and she didn’t want to think about it. “Hey, can you order something from that cookie place to be delivered while I shower please? Use my phone, my card is already in the app. Thank youuuu.”

He watched her leave, a small smile on his face at her words. It was a relief to hear that he wasn't completely incompetent. Flopping back against the cushions, he stared at her ceiling fan as it whirred around with a content sigh. 

As requested, he ordered a batch of her favorite cookies from the nearby bakery, adding a special request for extra chocolate chips with a small chuckle. She had ordered quite a few times recently, so he had tried to replicate it while adding white choc macadamia for himself. A classic, even if Y/N would wrinkle her nose for them sharing a box.

After submitting it for the delivery, he found himself humming softly, a warmth spreading through his chest at the thought of learning more from her. That had been so good, he felt so relieved that he wasn’t defective- but he did have to wonder how he was going to be this comfortable with anyone else. Y/N was easy to unwind around. It was hard to imagine him getting as comfortable with anyone else in the way he was with her.

Getting closer to her in a vulnerable and intimate way was sure to grow their friendship. He couldn’t really see it backfiring. Their friendship was too strong.

 Right?

[relicsongmel]

Iris, Miles, and their mutual "secret"

The Ace Attorney fandom is no stranger to discussions of homoerotic subtext in the game's script—pretty much everyone who's spent more than five seconds here will be able to tell you that. Screenshots of lines that imply romantic tension between same-gender characters are all over the place, to the point that many fans are drawn to the series purely by its reputation as "the gay lawyer game." Some scenes are more well-known than others, but one I find brought up fairly regularly is this conversation between Miles and Iris:

This is optional dialogue that can be triggered by presenting incorrect evidence on Iris' Psyche-Lock during the Investigation portion of Bridge to the Turnabout. The argument here is that the "secret" Iris is referring to is the same as her own: that being, a romantic interest in Phoenix Wright. Which is definitely hilarious when you consider that Iris has known Miles for less than a day and she's already reading him for filth (granted, she could have been clued in by the similarly infamous "indispensable friend" line, and she's also exceptionally good at reading people despite Miles thinking otherwise). As a Narumitsu shipper myself I am not immune to enjoying that interpretation; however, I feel like there's a lot of nuance in this scene that isn't often addressed by the fandom at large. Which is unfortunate because watering it down to just Iris calling out Miles for being the gayass he is (to be fair. she's not wrong) does a MASSIVE disservice to both of their characters, and I'll explain why.

My bone to pick with the usual analysis of this scene is mostly centered around the larger conversation to be had regarding the treatment of female characters in fandom spaces. All too often they tend to play second fiddle to the male characters, and a similar principle holds true for ships with their canonical male love interests: mostly ignored in favor of the the more popular M/M ship(s). At best these women are sidelined, at worse they are flattened into wingmen for the boys (as is frequently the case with many AA girls and Narumitsu, Iris included), and at the absolute worst they are demonized for their perceived "competition" with whatever gay ship is most popular and therefore the Only Valid One for the male characters involved (as exemplified by some very "passionate" fans that I generally try to avoid interacting with). Whenever this scene gets brought up, the focus is almost always exclusively on Miles and what the interaction says about his relationship with Phoenix; Iris is only relevant insofar as she's the one initiating Miles' Homosexual Moment™—you could replace her with almost any other character and there'd be a similar level of neglect for their role in the interaction. Only very rarely will you see attention given to what Iris' question about Miles' secret means when she is the one asking it, and what it can tell us about her relationship with Miles/what she thinks of him, and vice versa (absolutely wild how even Miles himself is often flanderized despite being the fandom's golden child). It's all too characteristic of the systemic misogyny that has plagued fandom since its inception, which is deeply frustrating to me as someone who adores Iris as much as I do (if that wasn't obvious by now). So that said, let's dive deeper into what I think the missing link is here: namely, the Iris-Miles dynamic as it pertains to their relation to Phoenix.

Iris and Miles is one of my favorite relationships to explore in the whole series—but as I've described above, unfortunately a lot of people get it wrong in my opinion. Discussion about the two is frequently centered around Narumitsu Love Drama—which is a conversation worth having, don't get me wrong—but the elements at play there aren't always represented the way I envision them, which again, is frustrating. Take the idea of potential jealousy, for instance: it's pretty standard love triangle fare that can be (and often is) quickly turned into demonization when it's used in a shipping context, character assassination be damned (re: Narumitsu fanfic authors that project their personal dislike of Feenris onto Miles via his jealousy of Iris and/or how they tend to portray Iris unfavorably). However, it's not inherently a bad thing to explore: personally, I do believe that there is mutual jealousy between the two of them. Miles might not have the full context of Iris' history when this conversation takes place, but he's emotionally intelligent enough to pick up on what Iris means to Phoenix, and vice versa. And him being a jealous hoe about it isn't out of the question when you consider that he's a bit of a loner by nature and doesn't have many close friends or outlets for socialization outside of his job. The crucial element that's sometimes missed, though, is that Miles not only lacks the self-awareness to realize he's a jealous hoe...he's also a self-sabotaging jealous hoe.

And the same can be said for Iris, who is similarly introverted and doesn't often leave her home at Hazakura Temple.

The whole reason Miles is peering into Iris' heart in the first place can be found in this exchange, after he breaks her Psyche-Lock:

Miles uses the Magatama in order to gain the answers he needs to bring the truth to light and get Iris acquitted, and he does so for the express purpose of reuniting her with Phoenix so they can find closure—in fact, he reiterates this to her multiple times. He obviously recognizes how Phoenix is suffering from what happened between them (I'd argue he sympathizes with Iris' plight as well) and has resolved to do what he can to help him heal, but there's no reason for him to be so insistent that she rectify things with Phoenix when it does nothing but harm his own chances with him. Unless, of course...that's the whole point.

To convince Iris to reveal her secret so he doesn't have to face his own, because he thinks himself undeserving.

And Iris, noticing this because she empathizes with that feeling of unworthiness, calls him out on it in an almost uncharacteristically forward manner when she asks him what he's hiding.

Takes one to know one, indeed.

Iris highly respects Miles for taking on her defense despite the risk to his job as a prosecutor. She's willing to trust him after hearing he's a friend of Phoenix, hearing him out and letting him reason with her. She still keeps her cards close to her chest in some regards, but she's more honest with him than she's been with anyone else in her life apart from her sister. She sees his commitment to the truth and how it starkly contrasts with how she's lived her life to this point, and thinks that this is the type of partner Phoenix deserves—not someone like her, who only knows how to survive using lies and deception. She sees so much strength in him but still recognizes the insecurity lurking beneath his tenacity, which is why when he falters in his logic, she takes a leap of faith and gives him one last chance to examine his reasons for pushing the burden of his unspoken affections onto her, as if to say: "Look in the mirror. Is this really for me? Or is it for you? Do you really seek the truth for its own sake, or do you merely hope to find one truth so you might run from another?"

Her question to Miles is a gamble—a coin flip of self-sacrifice. If she loses and he presses on, she has to face the secret within her heart she's been suppressing for five years. But if she wins and he gives in to the truth in his, she has to live the rest of her life watching it unfold and knowing she threw away her chance to finally stop living in fear of her own love.

Either way, there's no escaping heartache for her anymore.

Miles and Iris both want what's best for Phoenix and prioritize their vision of his feelings over their own. However, they are also both deeply emotionally repressed people who find difficulty in being direct with their feelings, and are predisposed to self-sabotage due to childhood trauma. These tendencies may manifest in different ways for both of them, but the fact remains that such people would likely not compete for a person's affection in the traditional sense, which is exactly what we see with how Iris and Miles deflect their feelings for Phoenix. These selfless, lovestruck idiots toss that man around like a game of hot-potato because their mutual self-hatred for the ways they've harmed him has rendered them terrified of the reality of what he means to them, and desperate to find a way out of admitting to it. It's the most compelling explanation I can think of for why the usually unassuming Iris makes such a bold judgment about what Miles might be keeping locked away, and why Miles goes to such lengths to make sure she talks to Phoenix and tells him the truth—his agreement to defend her was conditional on that exact promise. They go through this whole song-and-dance of playing wingman to ignore their own feelings while still trying to bring Phoenix the happiness they think he deserves—and then they wonder why seeing Phoenix give the other one attention burns them up inside.

Because they’re dumb. And I love them.

TL;DR the Iris Psyche-Lock scene in BttT is so much more than just "haha Miles gay" and I wish people talked about it more. Also Iris and Miles are way more similar than they appear at first glance and if I think about it for too long it makes me physically ill thank you for coming to my TED talk

[blueberrybirdsworld]

Collision 8/20

Summary:

Lando always had a type : blonde, models, not ready to settle down. Yet once he met her, all his world is changed and he slowly start to realises maybe he was wrong all this time.

It's a prequel story of The Cat Distribution System, on how Lando Norris fall in love with Ariana. Could be read seperatly.

Pairing : lando norris x original female character

Genre : Fluff, slow burn, enventual smut and angst

Warning : none

Serie Masterlist

CHAPTER 8 :

Texts messages :  

Lando:  Hi, I hope you sleep well :) So I have an idea Tomorrow. Noon. Wear something casual and comfortable. I’ll pick you up. 

Ariana:  Where are we going? 

Lando:  Surprise. 

Ariana:  Is it loud? 

Lando:  Possibly. 

Ariana:  Dangerous? 

Lando:  …Debatable. 

Ariana:  You’re making me nervous. 

Lando:  Good. See you at twelve, ballerina. 

The next day, Ariana stood just outside her building, dressed in blue large jeans, a pale beige oversized sweater, and her favorite white sneakers. 

She checked the time. 

11:59. 

Then she heard it before she saw it. The purr of an engine, low, velvety, almost feline. She turned toward the sound just as the car pulled up in front of her. 

She blinked. 

Lando stepped out from the driver’s side, sunglasses on, hair tousled, wearing a black hoodie and dark jeans, his grin wide and boyish. 

“Told you it was casual,” he said, gesturing to the car. 

Ariana stared. “Lando…” 

“I know,” he said proudly. “She’s a beauty.” 

She circled the car slowly, fingers trailing just above the paint without touching it. “It looks like it belongs in a museum.” 

“That’s the idea,” he said. “It’s a Lambo Miura” 

Ariana let out a slow breath, clearly impressed. “Okay… it’s stunning.” 

“And it’s ours for the day,” he said, opening the passenger door with a smirk. “Your chariot awaits.” 

She gave him a suspicious glance. “I’m starting to worry about this surprise.” 

“You’ll love it,” he said, offering his hand. “Maybe.” 

The drive was smooth, except when it wasn’t. 

Lando didn’t drive recklessly, he was surprisingly in control but every now and then, he’d press a little harder on the gas just to see her flinch and grab the door handle, laughing at her own reactions. 

“Relax,” he teased. “I’ve got you.” 

“You say that like it’s comforting,” she muttered. 

He looked over, still grinning. “Admit it. You like it.” 

“I’ll admit I like the car.” 

“I’ll take that as a win.” 

When they finally pulled into a lot lined with cones and engine noise, Ariana’s heart dropped. 

Rows of small, aggressive-looking go-karts idled at the far end of a makeshift track. Flags fluttered in the wind. Helmets hung from hooks. Rubber tire barriers stacked around corners. 

Lando turned the engine off and faced her with a grin too wide to be trusted. 

“Surprise.” 

She stared. “Karting?” 

“Yup.” 

“You brought me to drive?” 

He nodded, pleased with himself. “You said you wanted to see my world.” 

“I thought your world involved… like, watching you drive. Not putting me behind the wheel!” 

“It’s safe,” he promised, stepping out and walking around to open her door. “Controlled. Mostly painless.” 

“I hate driving.”

He blinked. “You what?”

“I hate driving,” she repeated, folding her arms. “I don’t even have a license.”

Lando stared at her, jaw slightly dropped. “Wait. Wait—what?”

“I never got it,” she shrugged, unbothered. “Didn’t want to. Don’t like driving. It stresses me out.”

“You’re telling me…” He pointed at her like she’d just committed a crime. “You let me think you were a fully licensed, car-competent adult this whole time?!”

“We barely know each other!” she said, laughing. “You didn’t ask!”

He looked positively betrayed. “This feels like a major breach of trust.”

“I just don’t like driving. I prefer being the passenger,” she said casually, crossing her arms like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Of course you are. The ultimate passenger princess.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?!”

He held his hands up, already laughing. “I didn’t mean it like that! I just mean—like—you’ve got the vibe, you know? You like comfort, good music, someone else doing the work—wait, I’m making it worse, aren’t I?”

“Unbelievably,” she deadpanned, narrowing her eyes at him.

Lando winced. “Okay, okay, let me rephrase.”

She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

He stepped closer, tilting his head just a little. “What I meant was… you can be my passenger princess. Professionally speaking, it’s a very exclusive role.”

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide her smile. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but charming,” he said, offering her an helmet. “Admit it.”

She snatched it from his hands. “I’ll admit you’re lucky I didn’t walk away after that comment.”

“Still get in the kart, though,” he grinned.

She eyed the helmet like it was a medieval torture device. “I don’t know about this.” 

He leaned in, eyes warm. “Just one lap. I’ll be right next to you the whole time. You can scream, curse me, cry, whatever. Just try it.” 

She narrowed her eyes. “If I die, it’s on you.” 

“You won’t die.” 

“Not comforting.” 

“You’ll look amazing in the suit,” he added with a wink. 

Ten minutes later, Ariana stood in a full racing suit, red, tailored surprisingly well to her figure and helmet in hand. The boots were clunky, the gloves thick.  

“You look so cool right now,” Lando said, adjusting her helmet strap. 

“I feel like I’m dressed for combat.” 

“You kind of are.” 

He brought her to one of the smaller, beginner-friendly karts. “Okay. Foot pedals: right is gas, left is brake. No clutch. No gear shifts. You steer like a normal car, and that’s it. Think of it like a really fast bumper car.” 

She gave him a flat look. “That is not reassuring.” 

Lando climbed into the kart next to her, already grinning through his helmet. “Ready?” 

“No.” 

“Perfect. Let��s go.” 

The first lap was chaos. 

Ariana’s kart rolled forward slowly, her hands tight on the wheel, her eyes wide with panic. Lando drifted ahead, spinning playfully, yelling back, “You’re doing amazing.” 

“Lando, I swear to God—!” 

She turned a corner, barely, nearly clipping a cone. 

“Just a bit more gas!” he called. “You’re driving like a grandma.” 

“Shut up!” 

He laughed so hard he nearly missed the next turn. 

Despite her panic, despite the protests, despite the few times she almost did crash into the barrier, Ariana finished the lap. 

And then another. 

By the fourth, she wasn’t terrified anymore. 

Still nervous. But not terrified. 

And when she finally pulled into the finish area, her cheeks were flushed pink, her braid coming loose, and her eyes shining behind the helmet. 

She climbed out of the kart with shaky legs, and Lando was waiting for her, helmet off, grinning like a man completely in love with his own prank. 

She handed her helmet to him, breathless. 

“That. Was. Horrible.” 

He smirked. “You survived.” 

“Barely.” 

“You did great.” 

“I hate you.”  

“And yet…” he shrugged. “You came.” 

“I must be out of my mind.” 

He stepped close again, brushing a piece of hair from her cheek. 

“You like my world a little now?” 

She didn’t answer right away. 

“Maybe.” 

“Enough to do it again?” 

“I didn’t say that.” 

He grinned. “You will.” 

And maybe she would. 

Because for someone who hated danger and speed, she’d never felt more alive. 

The drive back from the karting track felt quieter. 

Not in a bad way. Just softer. Ariana was tucked into the passenger seat of the vintage car, legs curled up beneath her, one hand lightly resting near the gear shift, her other elbow leaning on the door as she stared out at the fading golden sky. 

Lando watched her from the corner of his eye. 

“You’re staring,” she said without looking. 

“I can’t help it,” he replied. “I was just re-thinking on how you were a total natural back in the track.” 

“Natural disaster, maybe.” 

He laughed. “I’ve never seen someone brake before every straight line.” 

“I enjoy caution!” 

“Well, I enjoy how you almost crashed into the tire barrier with your eyes closed.” 

“I didn’t close my eyes.” 

“You did.” 

She finally turned to him, eyes narrowed, lips twitching. “You’re lucky I like you, Norris.” 

“Very lucky,” he murmured under his breath. 

They stopped for food, he let her pick, since she was the one who’d nearly had a heart attack on the track.

She chose something cozy: Thai take-out. Spring rolls, warm noodles, coconut curry. Food you could eat on a couch with bare feet and music playing in the background. 

By the time they reached her flat, the sky was ink-dark, and the city had grown quieter. 

She looked at him at the door and, without much ceremony, said, “You’re coming up, right?” 

Lando blinked. “Am I?” 

She tilted her head. “You bought me food. It’s the least I can do.” 

He didn’t need convincing. 

Ariana’s flat was as precise and beautiful as she was. 

Cream walls, soft amber lighting, wooden floors, and books stacked neatly in corners. Her throw pillows were perfectly arranged, and a few candle sat on the side table. There was a record player in the corner, dozens of vinyls organised by color by the side. 

They kicked off their shoes, settled in with the food on her low coffee table, curled against each other on the couch. 

Ariana sat cross-legged, chopsticks in hand, hair loosely tied up now. 

“So,” she said, mouth full of noodles, “I’m plotting my revenge.” 

He raised a brow. “Revenge?” 

“For the public humiliation you subjected me to today. I screamed in front of small children. They laughed, Lando.” 

“You screamed like a cartoon character.” 

“You’ll pay for it.” 

He grinned. “Can’t wait.” 

She nudged his knee with hers. “You’re enjoying this far too much.” 

“I’m enjoying you,” he said easily. 

Her smile faltered, just a little, and then softened into something quieter. “You’re smooth.” 

“I’m honest.” 

They kept eating, sipping warm tea she made in beautiful porcelain cups. The conversation stayed light at first : bad childhood stories, movies they loved, strange foods they hated, until, slowly, things began to shift. 

Lando leaned in, resting one elbow behind her on the couch. Ariana had turned slightly to face him, her ankle brushing his shin, her fingers brushing his when she reached for the spring rolls. 

Neither of them pulled away. 

His eyes dropped to her mouth a few times. She caught him. She didn’t look away. 

And then a thump sounded in the hallway. 

Lando jumped. Ariana didn’t flinch. 

A moment later, something small and cloud-like sauntered around the corner with the kind of slow, imperious grace that said this space is mine. 

Lando blinked. 

A white cat, pure white, fur like silk, tail curled and fluffy, strolled into the room, paused, and stared directly at him with ice-blue eyes like twin moons. 

“Oh,” Ariana said casually, “that’s Aria.” 

“Aria?” he repeated slowly, already shifting slightly away on the couch. 

“My cat,” she said. “Gift from my brother, he names her after me saying we kinda look alike.” 

The cat stared at him. Judging. Silently threatening. 

“She looks like she’s planning something,” Lando whispered, frozen. 

“She always looks like that.” 

“I—okay, not to be dramatic, but I think she hates me.” 

“She doesn’t hate you.” A beat. “She just hates everyone she doesn't know.” 

“That’s not comforting.” 

Ariana laughed, standing to collect their plates. “You’ll survive. Probably.” 

Aria hopped onto the couch the second she stood. And, with horrifying calculation, curled into Lando’s lap. 

He stiffened like someone had just placed a sleeping cobra on his legs. 

“She’s… sitting on me.” 

“Yes, means she likes you.” 

“She’s blinking very slowly. Is that like… a threat?” 

Ariana returned, smiling. “It means she trusts you.” 

“Oh god.” 

He looked down at the cat again, still unsure. She looked up at him with royal indifference, blinked once, and nestled deeper into his lap. 

He cleared his throat. “I’m scared to move.” 

Ariana curled closer, pulling a throw blanket over her. “For the record, she normally doesn’t sit on strangers.” 

He cleared his throat, voice lower now. “For the record… I’m kinda scared of cats.” 

Ariana turned toward him, surprised and then, a small, amused smile curved her lips. “Seriously?” 

“They’re unpredictable,” he said, eyes still on Aria like she might bite at any moment. “They stare at you like they know your deepest fears. And then they pounce. Or leave. Or judge you for breathing too loud.” 

She laughed, a real laugh, full and light. “And yet you let her sit in your lap.” 

“I’m trying to be brave,” he muttered. “For you.” 

Her expression softened instantly. “You don’t have to be brave for me, Lando.” 

“Yeah,” he said, glancing at her now, “but I kind of want to be.” 

She went quiet at that, the smile still on her lips, but something gentler now behind her eyes. Her fingers brushed his arm lightly, grounding. 

“Ariana,” he said softly. 

“Yeah?” 

“Do you want to kiss me again?” 

She didn’t answer. 

She leaned in instead, her hand rising to his neck, her lips brushing his like something remembered. 

This kiss wasn’t like the one at the museum. 

This one was slower… deeper… heavier. 

His hands found her waist instinctively, tugging her closer, until suddenly she was straddling him, her cat long forgotten as her paws thudded to the floor in quiet protest. Her knees bracketed his thighs, her fingers tangled into his curls. He gasped softly against her mouth, and she swallowed the sound like a secret. 

She kissed like she danced: with precision, with purpose, with fire just under the surface. 

They stayed tangled for what felt like forever, mouths learning, hands exploring, until they pulled back, breathless, her forehead resting against his. 

He looked at her. “Ariana.” 

“You can call me Ari.” 

He blinked. “Yeah?” 

She nodded, smiling gently. “All my close friends do.” 

He tilted his head. “Just friends?” 

Her eyes gleamed. “You’re more than that.” 

His hand found her cheek, thumb brushing her jaw. “And only close people call you Ari?” 

“Very close,” she whispered. 

He kissed her again, not rushed, not hungry, just soft and sure. A promise. 

“I feel special,” he murmured. 

“You are,” she said, lips brushing his. “You really are.” 

Behind them, on the armrest, Aria stretched and yawned, unimpressed by romance, but silently approving nonetheless. 

Taglist : @angelluv16, @httpsxnox, @anunstablefangirl, @chocolatemagazinecupcake, @mayax2o07, @freyathehuntress, @verogonewild, @esw1012, @lilyofthevalley-09, @its-me-frankie, @linneaguriii, @ezzi-ln4, @rlbmutynnek

[hexhomos]

I love Mel through and through but I cannot find it in myself to say that her and Jayce should’ve continued romantically in season 2, or that meljayvik/melvik could ever work.

While she def did love Jayce in season 1 she did use him and viktor for political and financial gain. And her and viktor always hated each other (also viktors 100% a gay man)

Also I think even tho canonically labels and homophobia don’t exist in arcane it was def some form of heteronormativity that caused jaymel maybe like…. Classism or smth…. Idk 🙏

Mel and sevika is my favorite Mel ship because Mel should be with someone who won’t fold as easily as Jayce 😇

imho jayce/mel was always a relationship of convenience with a very clear economical stipulation of success that is planted all throughout s1 act 2 (mel literally walking out on jayce when he doesnt present his new gizmos on progress day bc she had already promised them to investors. lol. later on pressuring him to do a whole round of black market shakehands under HER inherited opera house which is used as a meeting point between all the corrupt topside politicians. do i even need to expand.) and its only made worse when the phony-ruler training stuff comes in and both ambessa and mel start competing to see who can manipulate jayce into making weapons for the empire faster. I've always said that storyline was inconsistent as fuck and it does a lot of flip flopping near the end of s1 (do you want weapons or not? it changes every scene.) but at least people cant call me crazy anymore bc they WERE grooming jayce into being the pliant triggerfinger figurehead and once that fails all the attention is shifted onto caitlyn, who's just so ready to fall for the bait.

Like this is why jayce brings up the investment stuff during the breakup scene. this is why mel is fighting with caitlyn against her mother at the end of the series as a complete reversal of her goals. This was supposed to be a Thing. Character development for this bit in specific was RUSHED AS FUCK since they wanted to put all of the political tidbits as far away from the core plot as possible but its still there when you look. The ''empathetic'' political stringpulling ambessa does with cait is one she has taught her daughter, and she perpetuates with jayce, who is ofc upset at all the bullshit when he realizes what's happened in the end. And that it didn't just impact him, but also viktor and the cities at large!

clean break was actually the best thing they could have done with both of these characters and for a second I didn't believe they'd HAVE the balls to do it, but I'm happy to be proven wrong lmfao! if jayvikmel has no haters im dead. I'm not even getting into that whole thing but it bothers me *so deeply* to see viktor defanged and made into a fogbrained centrist yes-man when his entire arc is about the fatal consequences generations of these rich oligarch games have had on the low class people of the undercity. One of the only scenes of him raging in the entire show is him showing his disgust for mel's weapon proposition, and we just forget that happened? nuh uh. not on my watch

[daxisyzz]

⁺‧˚ ⋆ 𝐁𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐥 | 𝒃𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚 𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒔 ⋆ ˚‧⁺

𝑬𝒑𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒅𝒆 2: 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒃𝒆𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒔

Pairings: ceo!boss!bucky barnes × fem!reader

Other characters: bestfriend!Natasha romanoff, Wanda maximoff, Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers.

Contents: fake dating, chaotic relationship dynamic, workplace romance, contract relationship.

Summary: Bucky offers you an outrageous deal—pretend to be his girlfriend to appease his grandfather and in exchange, he’ll make sure you never have to worry about money again. You refuse at first… until you remember your landlord raised your rent, your loans are still pending, and Bucky casually drops a six-figure contract in front of you. What could go wrong?

Word count: 2.7k+ ( longer than the last..ik🫣)

Warnings: there is a dialogue heavy part, desperate reader, CHAOS, Bucky is infuriatingly hot.

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Inspired by the kdrama "Business Proposal"

Previously on Business Proposal..

"It’s fine with me. I'll talk with my secretary to arrange another date. I like you and would like to pursue this," he says, getting up with a smirk on his face. "Give my regards to your father." He turns away and walks out of the restaurant.

Left alone at the table, you exhale sharply, a mix of panic and exasperation washing over you. You quickly text Natasha, urging her to call immediately. "Call me, it's urgent," you type as you sit there, wondering exactly what you got yourself into.

___________________________________●

You get up, collecting your bag and rushing out of the restaurant, your mind reeling from whatever it was that happened in the last hour.

As you stand on the sidewalk waiting for your cab, your phone starts ringing—your favorite song, which you had as your ringtone. It was Natasha. You immediately pick it up, hearing her voice on the other side of the call.

"That was fast. Tell me you scared him off," she says lazily, probably lying on her couch watching some sitcom she always loves.

"I TRIED, but he liked me!" you whisper-yell into your phone as you get into your cab.

On the other line, Natasha is confused. "What do you mean he liked you? The whole 'mission' was to make him regret his existence for choosing to go on that date."

"He thinks I'm you, Nat! And when I went full unhinged—like full 'talking to my one-night-stand' kind—he just smirked and said 'you'll do,' and LEFT," you scream into your phone, making your cab driver glance at you through the mirror weirdly.

"Oh my god, you're kidding," she wheezes.

"Do I sound like I'm kidding?" you groan.

"But you do sound like you're spiraling, which is delicious, babe."

"You're paying for my therapy, my new job, and for starting over my life in a new country," you say, done with your life.

"I'm so sorry, I really am," she says when you groan.

"...but we can fix this. What else did he say?"

"He asked to arrange another date. You might be getting an email very soon about it," you inform her.

"Ok, I need you to go on that date. I know it's ridiculous, but reject him as brutally as possible. He's a rich CEO, for God's sake—he won't like you hurting his ego. He'll definitely let you go."

"But what about the fact that I have to face him every day of my life at work?"

"What do you mean?" she asks, clearly confused.

"He's the new CEO of my company," you mutter into the phone.

"What!?" she screams.

"Yeah, I know."

"It's ok, [name]. If you lose your job, you're always welcome to work with me on my fashion brand."

"Thanks for the offer, Nat. I'll see you tomorrow at our regular," you say, as the cab approaches your apartment.

"Yeah, I'll meet you there. Again, I'm sorry and thank you for doing all this for me," she says, her voice softening.

"There is no sorry and thank you in friendship," you chuckle tiredly as you get out of the cab, paying the driver.

"Don't say that; you know I hate that saying."

"Whatever," you laugh at her serious tone.

"Just know that I'm grateful for your friendship," she says, and you can sense her smiling from her voice.

"Good night, Nat. Love you," you say, smiling, genuinely grateful to have her in your life.

"Good night, babe, hope you survive tomorrow," she teases as you cut the call after saying goodbye again.

You plop into your bed, dreading the next day, wondering how you'd avoid him at the office, as it was going to be his first day as CEO. You thought of all the escape routes, all the worst-case scenarios, as you tried your hardest to fall asleep, your anxiety at its peak. You manage to score some sleep a few hours before you had to face—potentially—the end of your career at Barnes & Co.

You tread into work the next day looking like a mess as your nerves get the best of you. You greet your coworker, Wanda. Wanda was a sweet woman. You and she had joined the company around the same time and had become good companions. The redhead greets you back as you both walk over to your guys' desk.

"You know, the team is setting up a welcome surprise for the CEO. Wanna join?" she asks you.

As soon as you hear the words "CEO," the warning bells start ringing in your head. You start to think of a good excuse to avoid the event.

"Actually, I was feeling kind of down, so I'd rather stay at my desk," you say, looking down.

"Are you ok..." she perks up with concern.

"...you should've stayed at home." she worries, and it makes you feel guilty, seeing her worry over you when you're perfectly fine.

Well, not perfectly fine, because you spot him. Bucky. Your boss, Mr. Barnes.

And he's coming near your guys' office.

Immediately, you duck down, falling into a coughing fit as Wanda rubs your back, her worry increasing.

Bucky shakes the hands of his new colleagues with a polite and charming smile. Steve Rogers—his best friend, and now his secretary—shows him around the new surroundings of the office. They approach the product manager's office as he sees a woman, supposedly the product manager, widen her eyes at the sight of him and duck down... in a coughing fit? He just ignores that and walks past, heading to his new office.

The day goes by without any encounters with the boss, and you continue your work normally, until you have to go receive the product files from Steve, who just so conveniently has his office right in front of Bucky’s—whose office has the whole view of Steve's.

This cannot get any worse, as you speed-walk to Steve's desk and casually grab the files, using them to cover your face as you speed-walk back to your desk like you're competing in the Olympics.

This definitely doesn't go unnoticed by Bucky, as he narrows his eyes at his ill-natured employee. He calls Steve into his office to inquire about her.

"You need anything, Buck?" Steve asks.

"That lady who just came to your desk to take the files—who's that?"

"Oh, that's [name]. She's our product manager who deals with our electronics line."

"Why is she acting like that?"

"Idk, what's wrong? She's usually... normal."

"....Weird," Bucky says, raising his eyebrow, then he dismisses Steve.

Bucky starts noticing a pattern. Whenever he walks into a room you're in—like during lunch break—you leave. You barely show him your face, hiding behind your desk, behind files, running away from the elevator he's in to go down the stairs. But he manages to catch a glimpse, and that makes him even more suspicious.

You get home after a very exhausting day at the office—not because of the workload, but rather, because you were desperately trying to avoid Bucky Barnes. You get a text from Nat saying he has arranged a date, Friday evening, and you start preparing for that day. You agree to the second date purely out of fear that refusing would raise more suspicion.

The plan? Make him regret ever liking you.You arrive at another fancy restaurant, dressed up in your Natasha Romanoff disguise. At this point, you think, you should just be her. You enter the restaurant, going over your plan mentally—this time, you're not messing it up.

Step 1 of your master plan: Assert dominance

You walk out onto a rooftop restaurant which is suspiciously empty. You spot him sitting near a table, fancily set up, looking over the skyline of the city. He always seemed to be decked out in the most elegant suits, and it always made you feel something. If it weren't for this situation you were in, you would genuinely enjoy having a date with him. But the universe always likes to torment you, so you head up to him.

Bucky stands as you approach, smirking, "I was starting to think you wouldn't show."

You shrug, faking a bored expression, "Yeah, well, I had nothing better to do."

He chuckles, "You could've just said no."

You sigh dramatically, flopping onto the chair. "Could I? Because you look like the type who doesn't take rejection well."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that you seem... fragile." You smile innocently.

"And what makes you think that, doll?" Your heart skips a beat at the name, but you continue your act.

"Your whole vibe just screams sensitive. And I don't do that. It's like you get all broody and serious when people don't laugh at your jokes."

"I don't make jokes," he deadpans.

"That's even sadder."

Step 2: The too-high-maintenance approach

You sigh again, moving on, picking up the menu. "Just a warning, I'm excruciatingly high maintenance."

"Noted," he says, returning that stupid smirk.

"Like if you're even a minute late at texting me back, I'll block you."

Chuckling, he says, "Punctuality is important."

"I expect expensive gifts weekly—diamonds, designer bags. I don't do thoughtful," you tut.

Raising an eyebrow, he asks, "You like Chanel or Dior?"

Internally, you just feel like flipping over the table because, WHY IS HE NOT RUNNING YET!

Step 3: Or your pathetic attempt at making this man break—destroy his ego

You smile sweetly, leaning forward, "Okay, fine, I'll just be honest."

"Please do."

"You're just... not my type."

"Oh?" Amused, Bucky looks at you.

"Yeah. I usually go for guys who are, you know…" you gesture vaguely. "Hotter," you state casually.

Then it's just silence. Dead silence.

Why is he not saying anything? you question in your head.

Then, he blinks slowly, "Hotter?"

Nodding, you continue, "Yeah. No offense, obviously. You’re, like... cute. In a 'mall cop chic' kinda way."

Bucky tilts his head, processing that absolute violation of his entire existence.

You continue, satisfied this is working, "Also, no offense, but you’re kinda... short."

"I am not short," he grumbles, definitely offended.

"It’s okay. Not everyone can be over six feet. It’s cute," you say, nodding as you empathize.

"I am over six feet."

"Mm. Barely."

"I’m 6’2," he mutters.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, darling."

A muscle in his jaw ticks.

You lean back, proud of yourself, waiting for the moment when Bucky snaps and storms out.

"You done?" he questions now, looking at you with amusement.

"Wait, you're not mad?" you blink.

"Oh, sweetheart, this was adorable." He grins—like, actually grins.

You stare, mortified. What in the world is wrong with this man?

"You really thought this would work on me?"

"I insulted everything about you!"

"Yeah, but I can take a hit," he shrugs casually.

"I questioned your height."

"Which was incorrect, by the way."

"I said you dress like a mall cop," you say, desperation now evident in your voice.

"Well, that was just mean," he huffs.

"Oh my god! You liked that, didn’t you?" you say, face-palming.

"I love a challenge," he says smugly.

"This man is actually insane," you whisper, horrified.

You give up the whole charade; this man was not going to leave you alone. Guess you had to start writing that resignation letter as soon as you got home, 'cause you were not going to have a job the next day.

"Fine! You win! You know why? BECAUSE I’M NOT NATASHA."

"Oh?" he says, tilting his head, amused.

Who says "oh" just after their date revealed they are not who they are supposed to be?

"Yeah. I’m not Natasha. I took her place because she begged me to."

Bucky leans back, now donning a full-on smirk. "Ah. That makes sense."

"...you're not surprised?" you stare at him.

"Not really. You were acting way too weird at work."

That's it—the ground should just swallow you up. Not even changing your identity was gonna work now.

"You knew?" you ask, looking down at your lap, scared of looking up.

"I didn't exactly know, but I had my suspicions," he says, watching you shrink into yourself.

"Why did you show up then?" you question.

"What can I say? You’re fun." You're rendered speechless, not knowing what to do.

"Well, it's getting late. Don't want to turn up late to work tomorrow now, do you, Ms. Romanoff? Sorry, Ms. [name]," he says, getting up and buttoning his suit as he throws another look at you and leaves.

As soon as he leaves, you slump over the table, face in your hands.

"I just insulted my billionaire boss to his face," you whisper to yourself.

"Rough night," the waiter who came to clean up the table asks.

"You have no idea." A muffled groan is heard. You barely make it home before the panic sets in. You go through all five stages of grief as you think over what will happen to your life.

The morning after, you sulk into work like a criminal who just escaped jail, dodging eye contact, hugging the walls, and nearly knocking over the printer just to avoid the executive floor.

"Why are you walking like that?" Sam, one of your coworkers, approaches you suspiciously.

"Like you committed a crime and are not trying to be seen."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

You spend almost three hours away from your floor doing other chores until you end up in the break room, drinking some coffee to ease your headache, as you hear the voice you've been trying to avoid.

“You know, for someone trying to avoid me, you’re doing a terrible job,” he says from behind you, making you choke on your coffee.

"Good morning to you too," he says while casually crossing his arms.

"Good morning, sir," you force a polite smile.

"We're back to 'sir' now," he mocks.

You panic. "It felt appropriate."

"Last night you called me a chic mall cop." He leans slightly.

"Did I?" you question him, sweating.

"Mhm," he grins.

He leans back, his hands going into his pocket.

"I need you in my office at five. Understand?"

"Yes, sir." You look down at your fidgeting hands as he looks over you once more, then leaves.

You're sitting in front of your boss in his office and you don't like it one bit. You know you're getting screwed over no matter what. There is absolute silence as you wait for him to speak, which is just another level of torture. He slides over a paper, nodding at you to take a look at it. In bold letters, it's written:

NON-DISCLOSURE AGREEMENT

You skim over the content once, then twice, not believing what's written there. You look up at him, shock evident on your face. He just looks at you with that damned smirk.

"What is this?" you ask.

"That's an NDA."

“Oh, wow, thanks! I couldn’t tell from the giant letters!” you say sarcastically.

He chuckles, leaning forward, "I'm not faking being your girlfriend, and what do you mean by emotional compensation?"

"It's for all my precious time that you wasted."

"And what do I get out of this?" you ask—the important question, obviously.

"Turn the page."

You turn over the page to see more text, but what catches your eye in the benefits section is the obvious six figures for being his fake girlfriend for six months. You choke on air.

"This says six figures," you look up at him.

"Sharp eyes."

"For a fricking fake relationship!" you gasp.

"It's mutually beneficial," he states calmly.

"Why are you doing this?" you ask again.

He sighs, rubbing his temples. "My grandfather won't shut up about wanting me to settle down, and I have no time for that commitment. You need your money, as the salary is not enough to pay off your loans. And I need a girlfriend to convince my grandfather to leave me alone. It's a win-win."

“So you’re telling me… that if I sign this… I legally can’t tell anyone that I’m fake dating you?”

"Correct," he says, looking over his computer.

"Not even Natasha?" you panic.

"Not even Natasha," he repeats.

"Not even my own mother?!"

"Unless you want her sued for breach of contract," he casually says, flipping through emails.

"This is insane!"

He smirks, "You'd be surprised how often I hear that."

You stare at him, fully aware you're about to sign away your entire life. And yet—your landlord just raised the rent, your boss (who's sitting in front of you) is on the verge of layoffs, and your bank account is actively crying.

You had no choice.

With utter resignation, you grab the pen, sign the contract, and glare at him.

“If I go to jail for this, I’m haunting you.”

Bucky smirks, completely unbothered. "Oh, sweetheart, this is just the beginning."

__________________________________________

A/n: Thank you all so much for reading ❤️. I'll mostly update every week but from next week I'll be busy at college, dw I'll try hard to release new chapters.

Taglist: @baw1066, @scott-loki-barnes, @calwitch

You can also : ☆[Follow the tag ⁺‧˚ ⋆Business Proposal⋆ ˚‧⁺ for updates]☆

[demilypyro]

What if I said this is literally my favorite episode of the whole series.

For a character whose behavior can often be straight up irrational, seeing Pinkie grapple with feelings of frustration and jealousy as she gets competitive about the one thing she's truly prideful about suddenly made her so grounded and relatable.

Don't get me started on the extended joke that is Cheese Sandwich Just Being Weird Al, to the point of him covering Pinkie's most iconic song to her annoyance. This episode was an event. You had to be there.

[iscdisc]

A 2012 Casey appreciation post, basically- Lmao

I originally was going to rant about something not so positive, because that's just in my nature to do and 2012 as a whole just makes me incredibly angry- But that's how you can tell it's my favorite show on the planet, so like- LMAO

That's not to say that there won't be some moments of anger in this tangent from me, but for the most part I just want to kind of "gush" (so to speak) about 2012 Casey Jones and why these incompetent writers could never get me to hate him. 🫶✨

This might be kind of contradicting from me, since a lot of 2012 April's writing is what causes me to strongly dislike her as a character canonically- But I think I've come to realize that it's not that I necessarily hate April, it's just that I hate how she was handled and all the opportunities that the show gives her simply for just existing / a lot of what April gets tied to or what she accrued throughout the series are things that I feel the writers simply hand to her rather than explaining why she deserves them (Like her Kunoichi certification after the Space Arc- 💀 / I still don't understand why, "City at War" couldn't have been the first April solo mission episode instead to further show why she should be awarded this accomplishment, but okay- Lmao). And that's why she's frustrating to me. LMAO

Just think about how much better April's character would have been if the show writers actually gave a shit about her and weren't (probably) misogynistic because her character feels like a stereotype of a teenage girl / the "mandatory girl character" a majority of the time. 🙃👍

Casey, on the other hand, is a different situation. Because not only does this show not give him jack shit half the time, but they do him no favors the way they do April a lot of favors (in my opinion) and it feels as though practically a majority of the cast despises his existence-?? Another thing that cannot be said of April (in my opinion). LMAO

I also feel like a lot of the negative traits that we see from Casey throughout the series feel intentional?? In the sense that it feels as though the writers want us as the audience to think that Casey is the most insufferable person on the planet- Similar to how the writers embellish Mikey's negative traits so that we'll also think he's "unreliable" and "annoying" like his brothers do. The writers practically have Casey become "Mikey 2.0" in a lot of instances, and I don't say that like an insult because it honestly shouldn't be?? But it feels like sabotage from the writers, I gotta be honest. 💀

Maybe I'm the only one who feels this way, but 2012 Casey in his first three introductory episodes (Which yes, I refer to them as three introductory episodes because he wasn't officially introduced into the narrative until, "The Good, the Bad, and Casey Jones" / S2 EP 8 / but he technically was a big part of two episodes prior to that one and more literally introduced as a character in, "Mutagen Man Unleashed" / S2 EP 4 /. So-! 👍✨) has an incredibly different feel to him than the Casey that we see in, "Fungus Humongous" / S2 EP 10 /-?? Before, at least in my opinion, Casey felt like a chill dude who had occasional aggressive / hyperactive moments. But after, "The Good, the Bad, and Casey Jones", he felt more like an aggressive / hyperactive dude with occasional relaxed moments- Does that make sense? This is when I feel like he was really shifting into "Mikey 2.0" by the writers. He's a lot more brash, openly obnoxious and boisterous, saying things that he doesn't necessarily need to say so that everyone will look at him with glares (I wonder what other character that happens to- 🙄), having an unserious nature that the others disapprove of (Again, who else does that sound like-), a lot clumsier in battle than he used to be, the others don't take him seriously (Do I even need to say it again-), etc.

But does any of this deter me from loving him as a character? Absolutely not and it never will. LMAO

This isn't to say that I think Casey is perfect, because clearly he has his flaws, and given how the writers handled his character throughout the series, I completely understand why some people think less of him or would say that he's their least favorite character in 2012,, I really do get it.

BUT, despite all those things, I still feel like there were a lot of redeemable traits from him that don't get talked about a lot? Also a lot of things that I feel backfired in regards to the image that the writers "wanted" (Since maybe they didn't intend for this?? But it felt that way to me-) us as the audience to have of his character- Like him actually being one of kindest members of the team??

It's definitely not a conventional kindness, but it is a kindness nonetheless.

I honestly don't know a good place to start with this, so I'm just going to start rambling about whatever comes to mind and hope that that works out for me- LMAO

One of the first things that comes to mind for me is him during, "Of Rats and Men" / S2 EP 12 /. Despite having a crippling musophobia (Fear of mice and rats-) in the same way that Raph has a crippling entomophobia (Fear of insects-), Casey's still did his best to contribute to that problem and was probably enduring one of the most traumatic events of his life for his friends?? Like hello?? He's only known them for like maybe a few weeks or so at this point (Logically speaking-) too??

I know Raph technically has some growth with it in 2012 (Only saying technically because I really didn't like how the show constantly harped on Raph's entomophobia, as if there aren't many other aspects of his character that could have been talked about instead- Lmao), but when he was in his first situation revolving around his phobia ("The Cockroach Terminator" / S1 EP 18 / ) he was not very helpful for a majority of that situation (Which I totally get-) nor did he volunteer to put himself in the "eye of the storm" of that situation in the same way Casey did here. That was an incredibly kind / selfless thing for Casey to do??

Without questioning anything, he defends April against Timothy (Who they didn't know was Timothy at the time, besides I don't think that would be relevant cause April didn't really meet Timothy-?) during the episode, "Mutagen Man Unleashed" / S2 EP 4 / and rides away on his bike with her to escape Timothy, having just met April for the first time. He's pretty much kind towards April in general, but what I mean is a different type of kindness than the more general one that most characters give her- He truly allows April to be herself around him / doesn't treat her differently as person (When I say this, I mean moments like when Casey had no problem kicking April in her shoulder to wake her up during, "Within the Woods" / S3 EP 1 /- Lmao), and I feel like that is the biggest act of kindness he could ever give her. Like??

Maybe this isn't something that is necessarily considered "kind", but I thought it was incredibly sweet and understanding of Casey sit through the drive all the way up to the O'Neil's Farmhouse immediately after the Kraang invasion + immediately after he had failed to find his Father and little Sister in the chaos,, I'm sure he felt like he had to because of everything going on, but it would have been just as understandable for him to need breaks on the road or to vent during the drive- Instead it felt like he just focused on getting everybody else to safety, you know what I mean??

The way he whispers to Raph about taking it easy on Leo during their sparring match since he's been having a hard time since he woke up from his coma during, "Eyes of the Chimera" / S3 EP 7 / ? 😭 || I don't know how much this counts for kindness either, but the way he was so excited to tell Raph about what he had accomplished in regards to Shredder and his little recon mission during, "Casey Jones vs. The Underworld" / S3 EP 14 / always makes me cry- Like he was so happy,,

Also speaking of Casey being incredibly understanding?? 2012 Casey has to be one of the most understanding characters I've ever seen, because the amount of shit that he gets dealt by everyone else and decides to just let's go / move past it is wild to me.

• When Casey's reminiscing to April about his ex best friend Nick in "Target: April O'Neil" / S2 EP 6 / and how there was this complete accident during last year's playoffs and he genuinely accepted that his best friend since second grade decided to never talk to him again?? The maturity that Casey exudes from the scene alone- Not to mention his understanding of her leaving him with a bunch of Foot Soldiers (Not that I'm saying she did anything bad there, I understand why she left and I'm sure he did too-).

• Casey not thinking twice about helping the Turtles and Splinter not get exposed to the Foot Clan during, "The Good, the Bad, and Casey Jones" / S2 EP 8 / despite having known them for a brief amount of time and being at odds with Raph prior- Giving Casey honestly the slimmest of reasons to do this + before this point he actively talked about how he didn't like mutants.

• During, "Newtralized!" / S2 EP 17 /, how despite Raph giving him the hardest time ever (Which felt so hypocritical because I've never seen Raph treat April this way, and she messes up quite a lot imo- 🙃) and blatantly disrespecting him to the point of genuinely pushing him away, Casey STILL CAME BACK AND SAVED THE DAY- Not even getting upset that he didn't get an apology from Raph. At all.

• I don't know if this necessarily falls into what I mean here, but I feel like he often gets misread when he's trying to be genuine? The moment he had with April during, "Within the Woods" / S3 EP 1 / feels like one of these instances to me. I truly don't think Casey meant anything by it when he was asking April if everything was okay between them (Implying the April's been distant towards him lately or probably just acting different-), and even after she kind of blew up on him, he didn't say anything about it and just let it go?? 😭

• Casey being quite literally understanding during, "Buried Secrets" / S3 EP 3 / when April was venting about the situation with her Mother and basically reassuring her that it was okay for April to leave with her if that was the decision that she wanted to make-

• It honestly boils my blood to see how little faith the others had in Casey during, "The Weird World Of Wyrm" / S4 EP 3 / (At least it came across that way to me-), because how could they truly believe that he would turn on them like that? On one hand, I get it was to make the whole thing more believable so that Wyrm wouldn't suspect Casey was trying to do something underhanded, but if I were Casey I would have felt genuinely hurt that they really thought that of me?? April didn't even try to be like, "This isn't you at all! :( " like she normally does, she just fully believed that this is who he was now- 🙃 || But I also understand that a lot of the events of this episode get retconned on purpose, so. 🙄

• Casey basically let go of Raph quite literally ditching him because of his entomophobia during, "The Insecta Trifecta" / S4 EP 17 /, but I also acknowledge that Casey was not helping but all his descriptions during the fight,, LMAO || But I don't know, I feel like Casey was genuinely taking Raph's word for it when he said that he was "over the bug stuff" in the beginning of the episode-

• I don't really want to count this one, but I guess I can bring up how everyone forgave April so quickly after the events of, "The Power Inside Her" / S4 EP 22 / even though I feel like that was incredibly unrealistic-

But all of these hurtful moments?? Casey never brings them up again, he doesn't hold anything over anyone's head- Like- 😭

There's also the fact that he's incredibly selfless?? The most well known example of this being when he saved Raph's life during, "Requiem" / S4 EP 25 / and almost lost his own in the process,,

I feel like the entire concept of his vigilante-ing is an act of selflessness on its own, since you have to want to help people who can't help themselves to accomplish something like that-

Casey almost risked his life protecting April from the mutagen vat Stockman was trying to fly into during, "The Lonely Mutation of Baxter Stockman" / S2 EP 16 /, and the reason I say that he was risking his life is because if that had gone the wrong way, he could have gone into the vat with Stockman himself or could've simply fell in somehow- He literally risked the entire world after Donatello stopped breathing (Presumably his Brothers would follow suit shortly after-) during, "In Dreams" / S2 EP 5 /, since he didn't know for sure that the Dream Beavers wouldn't be world ending entities (Which, this is completely derailing right now, but there was just really sweet 2012 Jonatello fanfiction that used this situation in it- Where Casey openly acknowledges that he risked the entire world for Donatello even if it would have been only for a few minutes because they would have parish shortly afterwards- Like?? I'll try to find it later- 😭💜🖤).

I know this could just be a writing thing and another glaringly obvious way the writers clearly didn't care enough about him as a character, but I feel like his lack of bringing up his personal issues or his family feels selfless-? Like, he doesn't want to weigh anybody down with his problems, so he'd rather focus on what he can control than what he can't- You know? From a canonical writing standpoint, I found this really annoying, but ignoring the writing for a second- I wouldn't be surprised if Casey felt like the guys already struggle with emotionally supporting April and her constantly absent Father enough as it was, that maybe that's why he felt like he didn't want to add on to it or something by talking about his-? 😭 (But knowing these writers, I wouldn't be surprised that they had the Turtles be complete assholes to him about it- Because "boys will be boys" or some shit. 🙃 Lmao)

I also want to talk about how Casey felt like such a fantastic friend?? I know we only have that one moment with Leo during "A Foot Too Big" / S3 EP 2 /, but even that felt like a really great moment from Casey to me? Not to mention the fact that Casey's demonstrated multiple times that he's incredibly loyal, so whenever Leo asked him to be there, he was there- Something we see in episodes like, "The Lonely Mutation of Baxter Stockman" / S2 EP 16 / (Though, maybe this kind of feels like a straw grab-? Casey and Leo don't get a lot of interactions, so I don't know what else to say- 😭)

The only reason why I say what I'm about to say is because I feel like the writers handled Casey and Raph's friendship extremely poorly, but even though Raph treats Casey like shit 9 times out of 10 during the show, Casey still views him as his best friend and still has his back constantly?? This is demonstrated throughout the entire series honestly- (This is it to say that I don't like 2012 Raph and Casey or I don't value their friendship as such a staple in the series, because it's the exact opposite-! Which is why I was so disappointed in how 2012 handled their friendship,, 💀)

Casey and Mikey's dynamic is one of the most organic friendships to come out of the 2012 series in my opinion- They were genuinely the most fun on screen and it made me want them to interact a lot more. Like have you watched the episodes, "Meet Mondo Gecko" / S3 EP 17 / and "Bat in the Belfry" / S4 EP 19 / ? 🙄✨

Even though Donnie views Casey as "his rival" or some kind of "threat" between himself and April, I still feel like Casey had a lot of moments where he treated Donnie with respect and as an ally / friend, despite how Donnie feels towards him being glaringly obvious- As much as I would love to give you a plethora of examples of this happening, it feels like there's too many because it's kind of a in the background / nuanced thing-?? (See the picture I put for this part-) Like, if you focus on them during episodes, I feel like you could see what I mean- LMAO

Which has always led me to have this theory that Casey never actually hated Donnie to begin with and was just reciprocating the energy that Donnie was giving him, because why wouldn't he?

But I think a dynamic that is one of my favorites with Casey in the 2012 series is his dynamic with April-

April feels like a genuine person / fleshed out character when she's interacting with Casey as opposed to when she's interacting with any of the brothers. I don't know how else to explain it- A lot of the solo scenes that April and Casey get feel so different for April specifically, and I genuinely enjoy them ! Moments like when they're riding "Kirby Bat" during, "The Lonely Mutation of Baxter Stockman" / S2 EP 16 / or that Kraathatragon / " Giant Kraang Worm" during, "The Manhattan Project / Wormquake!" / S2 EP 13-14 / or when April finally breaks the wood in half with Casey at the end of, "Vision Quest" / S3 EP 8 /, or when April and Casey are walking home from the movie theater in, "The Deadly Venom" / S3 EP 18 /- It also makes me sad at the same time though, because I feel like if the show just dropped the stupid "Will they? Won't they?" romance bullshit subplot between them, they would have just been the best of friends and that would have been the best thing ever- Like. 😭

I almost forgot to mention the amount of times that Casey was actually able to swallow his pride for his friends despite the show giving us the impression that he's an incredibly prideful and egotistical person?? The fact that he has gone to the guys for help on more than one occasion (i.e. "Fungus Humongous" / S2 EP 10 /, "The Wrath of Tiger Claw" / S2 EP 19 / though this was just him sending them an alert from his phone, "A Chinatown Ghost Story" / S2 EP 23 /, "Casey Jones vs. The Underworld" / S3 EP 14 /-) despite claiming that he's a "Lone Wolf" and doesn't need anybody's permission to act. He even calls and waits for them before acting in, "The Power Inside Her" / S4 EP 20 /. He apologized to Donnie during, "Race With the Demon" / S3 EP 6 /, something I'm sure he never thought he would do in a million years at that point- He also had a lot of technical apologies?? Like telling Raph he's "not bad for an amphibian" during, "The Good, the Bad. And Casey Jones" / S2 EP 8 /, telling Donnie he "takes back everything he ever said about him" during "The Manhattan Project (Part 2) / Wormquake!" / S2 EP 14 /. I don't know if this one necessarily counts as an "apology" per se, but the way he was so quick to claim fault and say it was his bad after he triggered the traps during, "Riddle of the Ancient Aeons"- 😭 || I also want to tie in how a lot of the episodes were Casey was the problem or the issue of the episode revolved around Casey, Casey was genuinely the one to resolve said issue- We love him for taking responsibility ! ✨

Casey is also a lot smarter than I feel the other characters and the writers give him credit for / care to acknowledge. This dude literally made his own weapons. Excuse me?? Not to mention his shoes that have hockey blades that retract?? His decked out bike?? Like bro- His entire vigilante get up is incredibly unique and innovative ! During the episode, "Newtralized!", Casey was able to deduce where to exactly shoot his hockey puck explosive into the Kraang contraption (I don't remember what that thing was called,,)- During high action / high speed (??) scenes, you can tell Casey is very quick on his feet and has some pretty natural reflexes of his own (I think a great example of this is his "fight" with TigerClaw during, "The Wrath of Tiger Claw" / S2 EP 19 /-). He was the one that came up with the idea to use pizza to distract and subdue Leo / Raph / and Mikey during, "A Chinatown Ghost Story" / S2 EP 23 /. He clearly has some mechanical experience + possible engineering prowess, given he was constantly trying to work on that busted up truck in the O'Neil Barn and is clearly capable of not only helping Donnie but keeping up with him mechanically during, "Race with the Demon" / S3 EP 6 /. THE ENTIRE EPISODE OF, "Casey Jones vs. The Underworld"?? HELLO?? The way that he did all of that on his own and nobody gave him his flowers is criminal- /hj LMAO

You have no idea how much it upset me when everybody was acting like it was "so wild" that Casey had a good idea / his input was valuable during, "Tokka vs. The World" dude- 💀

All this is to say that 2012 Casey Jones is one of the most charming characters in an animated TV series for me. He's silly, he's stupid, he's loyal- He's just the biggest lovable goofball to me, you know?? 😭🫶

2012 Jonatello side tangent- 💜🖤

Because I genuinely cannot resist putting this at the end, I love talking about Casey's "contradictions" (so to speak) as a character and how he's presented in the show because this genuinely just feeds my Jonatello obsession. Like how I was talking about Casey treating Donnie like a friend despite Donnie clearly not liking him very much for a majority of the show?? How one of Casey's only on screen apologies (If I'm not mistaken??) is towards Donnie? How 2012 has Casey and Donnie conveniently standing next to each other or being in the same vicinity as each other despite "hating each other" more than not? How if you really break down their characters, they're kind of similar? Both physically (Tall, gaps in their teeth, brown eyes-) and characteristically (i.e. Mechanics and inventions, their weapons of choice / fighting styles, they both can get pretty morbid at times but Casey's just being Casey in this instance while Donnie's trying to be "scientifically accurate", as he says, etc.-).

How during, "Monkey Brains", if you look really closely at Donnie's plan to, "Get April to hang out with him", he has hockey on that plan? (Images courtesy of me by the way, since I happened to have the official 2012 art book !) How Donnie's helmet of choice (Specifically during Season 1 but did make an appearance in Season 2-) was a hockey helmet that had the number 16 on it? You know who else has the number 16 on their gear?? CASEY. IMPLYING THAT THIS IS LITERALLY CASEY'S HELMET.

But also the things that make them different attribute to these to being a perfect match to me ! Like their love languages ! Donnie's love language is definitely more verbal / words of affirmation (Since all he does is say things that he shouldn't say about April because she's not his girlfriend and call her things that he shouldn't call her because she's not his girlfriend- Lmao) and gift-giving / acts of service (Pretty much everything Donnie has ever done for April ever falls into one of these two-). While Casey's is also verbal / words of affirmation but in a different way (Since he's definitely more flirtatious / playful-) and physical touch (Since he's always getting into April's space and being very physically close with her-). This makes sense to me, but maybe it might not make sense to other people- I just can't help but feel that everything that Donnie became infatuated with about April and Casey with April is quite literally just each other?? To Donnie, I genuinely feel like he was more attracted to the fact that she was a "firecracker" (so to speak) and did what she wanted / didn't let others tell her what to do. Something we actively see in episodes like, "Panic in the Sewers" when April actively lies to a man to get through an apartment building and Donnie responds with, "She's so cool-". With Casey, it feels like the opposite, where he was only interested in April because in his eyes she was kind of stuck up and a nerd (In his eyes-). I feel like this is enforced by their early on interacts during Season 2, specifically, "Mutagen Man Unleashed", when Casey asks April if "studying is all she does" and April points out that he likes to push buttons-

Which?? This solidifies that (canonically) Casey's method of flirting is pushing buttons, and whose buttons does he push more than DONATELLO'S?? HELLO- 😭💜🖤

I completely derailed by talking about 2012 Jonatello, I'm sorry. This was meant to just be a 2012 Casey appreciation post only- My bad,, 🥲👍 LMAO

[eyothings]

So out of nowhere this december, i've been hit with nostalgia and decided it was time to rewatch Buffy The Vampire Slayer's entire series after the last time it aired on tv, meaning 20 years ago.

Not only it shaped a whole side of my lil sister personality, it is also the favorite show of one of my cousin and closest friends.

And considering the state i'm in after finishing season 7, i know for sure Spike is the origin of my utter love for anti-heros, England and ennemies-to-lovers trope.

He is one of those characters that stay with you forever.

C'mon look at him, LO_OK.

I had very few memories of the show, only some big moments: Angel leaving for a spinoff, Spike ♥, Dark Willow, Spuffy - Basically I remembered almost nothing.

The first season set the tone for me, i forgot the serie was very funny, and what worked right away was the simple fact that they didn't act seriously either, the actors looked like they just had fun. On top of that, even if i already knew that, the show is very feminist and advanced for its time.

I also forgot how much of an asshole Xander is. lol

The worst season for me is clearly season 4, and between you and me, and me and you, it's unsurprisingly because of Riley and the army.

The best season is obviously season 6, and not only for Spike and Spuffy but for Buffy's whole personality.

I have so much to say about the show really, but I'll stay focused and talk about the two ships: Bangel and Spuffy (and a bit of Riley). Note that it is purely my point of view, based on what i like to see and read in fiction and how I perceive the characters, there is clearly a big difference compared to real life. As well as any "bitch" mentioned here is only affectionate. And if you're crazy enough to read the entire post, I apologise in advance for the many mistakes in my writing, as English is not my mother tongue.

The moment i'm writing this VERY long ass post, I've only just started to watch Angel the series for the first time and I've only seen the first season, so my thoughts on him may change in the future, but I don't think my pov on the ships will. I am also aware of some events in seasons 8 to 12 (comics).

• Bangel:

To be honest I liked their love story more when Angel was Angelus.

First, them falling in love never really clicked, I guess they played the love at first sight trope, but she was 15 and he was 200; at that age, any man who was pretty enough and a bit dark would've worked for her. (I won't talk about a 26 y/o man falling in love with a 15 y/o teenager, the man is from 1727, at this point it's not even the same culture okay??)

I thought I'd still give it a chance and root for them, even if I was fully aware of him leaving and Spike would be the new romance (I FORGOT THE WASTE OF TIME WITH RILEY), because they actually talked about all the issues, they knew something was off with their love story but they couldn't stop.

I have not much to say about the nature of their love, it was a cute romance at best, but the more they went further the cringier it'd get, I still have trauma about their kiss noises, no kidding.

They slept together and Angel becomes Angelus, which is supposed to be sad and add some angst, but Angelus was so charismatic, I didn't care about Angel anymore.

And what can I say? I think the soul vs no soul aspect played kinda badly, they all said that Angelus was incapable of love since he had no soul, but we had the concrete proof that love was possible thanks to Spike & Drusilla to begin with ??

I was hoping that, since they sold us their love as super powerful and intense, Angelus would end up falling in love with Buffy, especially after the episode in which both are possessed by ghosts in season 2 episode 19 - I Only Have Eyes for You - which is my favorite moment between them:

but NO, Angelus cannot love, and only Angel can:

It's either we get the flavored guy but no romance or the bland one with a half romance.

Talk about the greatest love story there.

And the whole season 3 is Angel and Buffy having a teen romance:

"Let's just hold hands and kiss but nothing else"

Of course I guess this kind of love story is possible, but it is made clear they both feel the sexual tension each time they kiss, they even dream of doing it. So the only thing that comes of it, is frustrating feelings, for Buffy, for Angel and for us watching them going nowhere.

The hottest moment they have is when Angel bites her to survive.

Surely for a love story that is sold to be so grand, I expected Angel to find a cure for the curse? And fight for his love or something?

♫ Nope, he just leaves. ♫

♫ Bitch talks about fighting for what is worth and bails out at the first difficulty. ♫

i cannot even blame Joyce here, she made the right call, for real. Mother knows best, but he had the chance to prove her wrong.

And in parallel to that we are introduced to Spike, a vampire with no soul who is one hundred times worth Angel, just by existing.

And there is so much to say, whether or not Spuffy was intended, whether or not Angel is supposed to be the love of Buffy's life; After reaching seven seasons, I can guarantee without any hesitation, that Spike is the one, there is no contest.

I can't, for the life of me, believe one second that Joss Whedon and the rest of the team wrote the enemies to lovers story of the last two decades without doing it on purpose? They were so much into Angel, to realize what was happening?

They sold me Angel and Buffy being the "forever love", and, in a way, they are, but only because they cling to the "what could've been".

Of course they will always be attracted to each other until they really try. They'll always idealise their love story and fill the plotholes with their imagination. But it is dramatically bound to end in disaster.

And no, Buffy, I cannot take you seriously when you say "I loved him more than I will ever love anything in this life" ; You were a teenager, it is normal to feel more deeply when you're 16, but that doesn't mean anything, and you know it too well.

Angel left her broken, unable to trust anyone, unable to trust herself and alone: If the love of her life doesn't want to be with her, then who will? (♫ We have an idea ♫ )

Soul or not, he has been a coward, with no intent to get to know Buffy, her family, her friends. He decided what was best for her without asking her.

All he does after that, is coming back into Buffy's life at the worst moments to be jealous.

♫ He is that toxic boyfriend who comes back with puppy eyes each time you try to move on. ♫

Every time he appears in an episode it's to disappoint even more: I was rooting for him, I even missed him A LOT in season 4 !

And, sure, meanwhile, the dance between Spike and Buffy was already ongoing since season 2, but we really didn't have any concrete scenes between them that could seal the ship for good (them under Willow's spell in season 4 doesn't count). So the best option at that moment was the hope for Angel to come back.

Buffy never really had the chance to move on from Angel because of Riley and his insecurities, but also because Angel cannot seem to move on, while moving on at the same time ? ! ? ♫ Bitch has a child ♫

The moment Angel left the show, it should have been for good. (Note aside, I'm still having a hard time believing the character had his own spinoff because of his popularity, when we barely saw him hanging around in the first 3 seasons, wouldn't have it been simpler for him to stay and have more scenes, like Spike?) • Riley & Buffy (Briley??)

And so Angel never came back, and we got Riley instead. He was the perfect choice to make the bridge between Bangel and Spuffy. She needed to experience a "normal" romance, with a "normal guy" to know what it's like and to understand what she really wants, but one season and a half was way too much. ♫ I ended up googling " WHEN is Riley LEAVING? "♫ The moment Buffy said she held back her strength when training with him, was enough to see what was coming.

Riley was nothing else than just an army guy under steroids who couldn't even handle his girlfriend being stronger than him.

Him blaming Buffy for not really being around when her mother was dying was the cherry on top of the loser's behavior.

Buffy needed someone with whom she could be 100% herself, an equal, and Riley knew he wasn't half of that; so he made her pay? By cheating on her and leaving? Then coming back a year later to brag about his wedding? Lmao give me a break Riloser.

So now Buffy is alone AGAIN, both men she thought she loved, left without looking back. ♫ Over my shouuulder ♫

And from those two relationships, we can already see what she needs in a romance:

- An emotionally available man - That can be there for her without pushing her - Someone who doesn't flee the second he encounters the smallest difficulty - A man strong enough for her to unleash the full force without being afraid of hurting him ♫ yes i'm talking about sex ♫ - Someone who understands her role as the slayer and her crazy life - Someone selfless capable of protecting her family and friends - Someone she can trust.

♫ And now, ladies and gentlemen, lets welcome ♫

• Spuffy:

Ok first a bit of context here: I disagree about people criticizing Buffy season 6 Lets just understand whats going on: Bitch sacrifices herself to save the world and her sister; at that moment, she feels peace for the first time in her life, for the first time she is not afraid to die and fulfill her destiny by choice. She has an heroic death, ends up resting in paradise...

♫ Then her friends who can't handle to live without her, decide to bring her back to life. ♫

Not only she comes back to life in her fucking coffin, she also: - Has to crawl to the surface (almost dying stupidly) - Has to act as if nothing happened - Has to be the slayer again - Cannot even go back to university - Has even less prospect for a normal life - She is poor - She needs to find money (ends up working in a fast food) - Has to thanks her friends for bringing her back to the life she never wanted - Is being blamed for not really being around.

♫ I WOULD HAVE BEEN SO FUCKING PISSED YOU CANNOT EVEN IMAGINE ♫

So what? She comes back, feels different, depressed, alone AGAIN and figuratively chained to a life she still doesn't want, and the only person who does understand what she is going through is Spike. Spike who has been here for her family and friends the whole time she was dead, meaning, he did it because he wanted to, because he felt genuine pleasure in hanging out with them while keeping his promise to protect Dawn.

He could have left, but never did, even though his love was one-sided, he loved her so much he stayed.

♫ Death couldn't do them apart ♫

He has been a father figure for Dawn, but not only that, Spike was also the only vampire Joyce liked and trusted, a presence she didn't mind in her home without Buffy around.

And Spike did love Joyce very much ♥

And I have so much to say about Spike, he is that multi-flavored character with so many layers, who stays interesting with or without a soul. He is a slayer's killer, seen as one of the most dangerous vampires, that anyone should be scared to be around, he has so much confidence in himself, he doesn't even mind being so freaking pathetic when it comes to love.

He is not even afraid nor ashamed to show his affection, to be vulnerable, to be open about it, and most of it, he just embraces it without a care of the outcome, he is just living by the day, knowing perfectly that everything could stop at any moment. Though, that being said, i'm still well aware Spike has also MANY flaws, all he does is mainly driven by love but it is still extreme and twisted due to his soulless condition. I really don't know where to start, because i feel like Buffy and Spike's destinies are intertwined - They are a mirror to each other. Buffy's behavior has anything to do with Spike, as Spike's behavior has anything to do with Buffy - it is really like watching a dance.

Spike allows her to embrace and explore the darkest part of herself - She was always the perfect girl everyone expected her to be.

She needed to do good, to BE good, but what if she, for once, chose the other side? Of course she never went as far as Faith did, but she allowed herself to fall into a forbidden romance, and to go against everyone's expectations, because she only felt something when she was with him. And i loved this part of her, because to me, she finally has flaws! I mean, she always had some but not to that extent. And maybe, maybe being like this, was a way for her to never fall completely into the darkness nor into Spike's influence.

Maybe she was in an inner battle between good and bad.

Maybe it was an unconscious way to either push him away, or test him to see if he will ever leave her. Abusive or not towards Spike, let's not forget that he is still William the bloody, and the only thing that stops him from killing anyone is the chip in his brain. We're still talking about the guy who would have easily killed Willow if he had the chance, the one Buffy wouldn't trust at all without that said chip.

Even though Spike has done TREMENDOUS good deeds with the scoobies, he is still a slave to his primary emotions.

Don't get me wrong, this is why i love Spike SO MUCH, his duality as a soulless vampire is everything. The man can talk to you about his favorite romantic show and a minute later kill someone in cold blood and find a great pleasure in both.

♫ Anyway ♫

Above all things, they are in love, and this love is extremely intense, deep, powerful, unbearable and terrible.

Thanks to Tara, Buffy realizes she did not come back as any different as before she died and realizes the horrors she has committed to Spike by treating him like a monster he never trully was.

Buffy ends up admitting her wrongs and grows out of her darkness and chooses to be good and to end her relationship with Spike. And she is glowing and glimming, and she's not his anymore.

Which leads Spike to end up doing something awful.

And what does he do after that??

He leaves the city...

♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ TO FIX HIMSELF ♫ ♫ ♫

Ladies and Gentlemen, we are in the year 2002, and yes you read me well:

THE BAD GUY GOES TO FIX HIMSELF TO BE WORTHY OF THE GIRL

♫ William the bloody risked his fucking life in a trial to get back his soul ♫

She doesn't fix him, he does it on his own because he knows something must be done to repair his wrongs, that his love needs to be purified of his monstrous side to be a better man and stand at her side.

And even though she doesn't know that, she is still looking for him, even after what he has done, she is always drawn to him, she always wants to be around him.

Then she learns he got his spark back for her and she does everything in her power to keep him by her side.

Because now it is time for Spike to embrace the brightest part of himself thanks to Buffy.

I love them so much, especially in season 7 because they don't even have to act romantically to show how deep their love is for each other. How simple it has become, how instinctive their complicity is. They know how to complement each other, it is almost symbiotic.

They are clearly not ready to be together again until they really sort things out but Spike has seen the best and the worst parts of her, and is still hers entirely, and will always be.

As much as Buffy has seen the best and worst parts of him, and she still trusts and loves him to the point of asking the initiative to remove the chip in his brain. ♫ On top of desperately not wanting him to die ♫ Also, without knowing it yet, she is entirely his and will always be.

Buffy sees Spike’s worth, and Spike sees Buffy’s, even when neither of them can see their own.

They lift each other up, and become an unbreakable force, to the point that no one can split them.

And this is one of my favorite parts of Spuffy, in season 7:

Before, she would never have let Spike kill a human, not even out of revenge. But now, she’s willing to let his shadow take over if it means keeping him alive, just as he learns to hold it back. To me, episode 17 - Lies My Parents Told Me - marks how far their connection has grown: Buffy running as fast as she can to save Spike Spike's past with his mother, helping him make peace with some of it, as part of his ongoing redemption arc ♫ it broke my heart ♫ Spike coming back to his senses to beat the shit out of Robin, and giving him a last chance Buffy telling Robin she'll let Spike kill him next time he even tries to harm Spike Buffy choosing Spike over Giles Buffy choosing Spike over the "common sense" Buffy choosing love over her duty (even if she pretends otherwise) ♫ Buffy, you cannot fool Spike, but you cannot fool us either! ♫

And i love this parallel with the end of season 2 when she had to choose duty over love and kill Angel. This is Buffy allowing herself to be a bit more selfish while Spike is allowing himself to be a bit more selfless.

And then in the middle of the biggest battle of her life, she is overthrown over shitty excuses ♫ i have a LOT to say about the Scoobies but that post is insanely long to add some salt ♫ and who is the one that still has her back? Spike. Spike has always been unconditionally here for her and never let her down, which even the Scoobies didn't always do.

Spike is the one who delivers the most selfless and beautiful love declaration of the whole show, to her. When she needs it the most, because he is the only one who can see her.

And his love is what gives strength to Buffy to trust herself and pursue her goal. He is the one who brings back the light in Buffy, who pushes her to live and accept her fate as being the one.

And talking about light,

♫ What a freakin' poetry to have centered Spike's whole redemption arc around it ♫

He was always pursuing that light, whether in Cecily when he was a human or Buffy as a vampire. All he had to do was bring the light into him and embrace his humanity to fulfill his redemption. And so he makes the ultimate sacrifice, And he glows. Not only he saves the world willingly and selflessly but he also gives back the fire inside Buffy, frees her from Sunnydale and her role as the sole slayer.

♫ "I love you" - "Spike" are the last words Buffy says in the show ♫ • Conclusion A freaking long ass post only to say that to me, Spuffy is very well written as enemies to lovers, thanks to Jane Espenson, Douglas Petrie & Marti Noxon. Though i think Spike still suffers some injustices, but I'm glad he got the respect he deserves in the comics, (which i consider canon) : Not only does Spike end up as part of the Scoobies but also with Buffy, and he is the only one with whom she fights for their relationship to last. ♫ And they're endgame in season 12 ♫ (Thank you Christos Gage)

I also think JW made many mistakes for Bangel to work: I know he was kinda annoyed by Spike's popularity at first and wanted Angel to be seen as the main vampire of the franchise, which led him to give Angel his own spinoff, but by doing that, he also broke the link between Buffy and Angel. Which ultimately led Spike to have a more organic evolution with her instead of Angel. They both had their own paths in their own separate worlds, which forced JW to accept Spuffy as being the logical conclusion. Just as Cordelia was also the best choice for Angel to grow and be more open about his emotions. Claiming in interviews that Angel is the love of Buffy's life without ever demonstrating it concretely in any of the media itself makes this statement fall flat. I do not hate Bangel, I think the ship was necessary for Buffy to grow, but i do see more Angel as her first idealised and tragic love, while with Spike, it is more grounded, mature and based on mutual respect, trust, acceptation and stability.

♫ Angel should have stayed and Spike and Drusilla should have had their own spinoff, and i'd have paid to see that. ♫ • My pov on Sprusilla?

Literally nothing to say about them, they match each other freak to a level no one can ever comprehend.

♫ They are a perfect match and untouchable. ♫ ♫ May they end up together again and last for eternity. ♫

♫ With animals. ♫ (alive)

[waaaffle]

Dumping my thoughts here about something I have noticed because why not (a few spoilers for anime-onlys):

Shipping / headcanons are not an issue, but it's not lost on me that some of the people who ship Shisui/Loulan with Maomao are always hoping Jinshi — who is clearly the deuteragonist — dies or is written out of the story in some other way because he is considered an "obstacle" for the ship. I am not claiming that it is all or even most, but it is enough to where it's noticeable imo. This is a bummer because I think he is an interesting and well-written character in general (not just for his devotion for Maomao) but he is often reduced to some one-dimensional evil. Also, any Jinmao fans hating unprovoked are wrong as well, but I have already seen posts about that side of things, so I don't need to say much else.

I have seen people insinuate that the author should "fix" her story (disrespectful) or that she intended to write yuri between them but was forced in the other direction (flat out misinformation).

I saw a take recently where someone said that "Shisui is the closest maomao has come to feel affection for someone" which is a poor analysis of Maomao's character (this person said they are on LN 7 btw; such a take makes no sense if you are an anime-only imo, but is much worse coming from a supposed LN reader). She cares deeply for Luomen, Xiaolan, her sisters, etc. so this take is odd. The attempts to downplay Maomao's care and romantic love for him in the story (the tired take of "Maomao clearly hates him") to make their ship appear more "legitimate" (???) are just unserious 😭 why can't people just enjoy something without spreading misinformation. I don't think anyone should feel the need to prove why their ship is more legitimate and / or minimize what is written to enjoy it.

Side note: Someone else was mad that Jinshi came to save her + stop the rebellion because he was putting Loulan in danger by doing so, and that he should have left Maomao with the Shi clan. Just ridiculous. 😵‍💫

Unfortunately, blocking and muting does not fully help when this kind of stuff is even under posts and in spaces that like Jinshi and / or Jinmao. Imagine trying to find a space to talk about your favorite character, and instead you find people constantly bashing them, primarily for romance that was set up early on in the LNs. I think most people would be annoyed after a while — especially considering the particularly visceral hatred for and rampant mischaracterization of Jinshi that seems to run deep in the western fandom. I know the hate for him won't change and that's fine, but I think it's weird to go into spaces where people like him just to argue.

The author decided that Jinshi was going to be the deuteragonist very early on in the development of this story because he was already inseparable from the plot by LN 2 at latest.

She didn't have to (and no, she was not forced to) but she did.

Shisui was introduced for the Shi clan plotline and her character arc concluded nicely with its end (even died in the web novel). Definitely an important character for various reasons (the Shi clan rebellion and her actions lead to events that mark a key turning point in the series, an important role in Maomao making friends / opening up, etc.). However, based on the writing, there were likely no plans to make her role much different from what it was.

The author recently stated that she rarely makes big changes to the plot, so making Jinshi integral to the story as a whole (as in the plot would be completely different without him) and making their romance integral to the plot was a very deliberate decision on her part.

You definitely don't have to like him or their romance at all, we all have our personal tastes, but the story isn't bad for not going in a direction that it never intended to go in (or for taking a direction that you don't like).

[rockpaperimpala]

So about Netflix's the Last Airbender....

I am literally so confused you guys. You made me think I would HATE this show. And I LOVED it. Me. Known perfectionist and hater.

Katara was lovely. Yes, she started as a more soft spoken character than her cartoon version, but she was still passionate and hopeful throughout, just visibly unsure of herself. I think people were thrown off by this actress' natural way of expressing herself, which is Different from animated katara for sure, but not bad. Then she spends the whole season growing in Confidence and Fire. I Adored her fight with Paku, it really did feel like a payout of the whole season's development, and the bending kicked ass!

The Bending Kicked ass!!! The martial arts was fun and fast and creative and exciting! It looked SO good. That alone would be enough reason for me to watch and enjoy any show.

Zuko's actor was fantastic. He really captured the rage and confusion of this 16 year old banished prince. And there were so many Added moments between him and Iroh wich to me enriched their relationship. Like YES! This is why I'm watching, to see more of them, to see things done a little differently.

Iroh facing the consequences of his actions at Ba Sing Se!! That's what I'm here for!

Zuko's relationship with the men on his ship! That's what I'm here for!

The Extra layers we get to Ozai manipulating his children!

Also no one is talking about Admiral Zhao, who I had SO much fun with. I feel like they slightly fleshed out his character in a really dramatic way, really developing the hubris and frankly insane grasping ambition of someone who would kill the moon. I completely enjoyed this wilder, less controlled version of him, who comes up through the season from basically nothing and no one!

I am OBSESSED with King BUMI and his anger and disillusionment with the world! Like this was SO real. Living a hundred years of futile war would do that!!!! It is one of my favorite changes to the whole series. This new layer of emotion and character depth is what I'm here for!

Sokka was SO funny. He literally had me laughing out loud so often. That actor GETs Sokka, and GETS the way his humor is delivered. And is also able to tap into the more vulnerable side of him. People said he was "obsessed" with leadership. WHAT? That is a young person trying desperately to do his best and to try and find his place in the world, to figure what he has to offer. I loved his pride at hearing the Mechanist say that he would make a good engineer, and the sweetness of the moment that Yue's father says that he can be a hero without being a warrior. Sokka does so much growth in this series, in understanding himself and life.

And his chemistry with Suki was adorable!! I even like him and Yue (who was a totally unexpected sweetheart, despite her terrible wig)!! Like he has that same ability that Sokka has in the original to Connect with people.

Aang was great! He WAS fun loving and sweet and funny. I don't know what you guys wanted. Cartoons are always bigger and more exaggerated than live action. People's eyes swell up an, birds fly around their heads, and there are funny sound effects. That larger than life quality is the strength of animation! You have to look for different strength in live action. Like the SUBTLETIES of the acting choices. This little actor brought so much kindness, innocence, and strength to Aang.

And I FELT his frustration at being asked to do this at 12, his fresh hope anytime it looked like someone more experienced would be able to help him and no one did, and that's why he didn't learn waterbending this season, because he kept waiting for an freaking ADULT to show him the way, to help him carry this immense burden, but every adult he meets asks him for help instead, asks him to carry it himself, and then the finale hits and he realizes that there won't be any adults helping, he does have figure this out himself, and he makes the hard choice, takes on responsibility more than his years and offers himself to the ocean spirit, and he might have been lost entirely if not for Katara!

And that counter running theme to the show pays off: that he doesn't have to do it alone. He may not have more experienced guidance, because the adults have let him down again and again, but his friends will be with him, and they will figure it out together!

This is there throughout the series! Katara tells him this about learning waterbending, when he says he still wants to wait. Bumi tells him this in the palace at Omashu, and Aang sees the faith he has in his friends repaid!

I like these changes! And the show still found time for silly fun adventures and character building moments.

The show was never going to be the animated original. That is already a Masterpiece, and it frankly did NOT need to be adapted at all. I did not WANT a live action adaptation. I was adamantly convinced I would hate it. But the changes that they netflix show gave are what I Iike most about it. If I want to see Zuko say "you rise with the moon, I rise with the sun," I will go watch the animated original, because that version is perfect. And now, if i want to see Zuko say "Lu ten would have been proud to have you as a father," and see iroh pull him into a tight hug, I can watch this live action version, which is very good too. I'm going to disagree with most of the people on here and say that the Netflix's Avatar: The Last Airbender, DOES capture the heart of what we liked about the original show. It's spirit, fun, excitement, and characters. And the changes made are the reason we should be watching.

[ageingfangirl2]

Why Are You So Cute? Chifuyu Matsuno (Tokyo Revengers)

While waiting for Takemichi, Chifuyu pops into a manga and cat cafe to wait. When he stumbles upon a cute girl and has a meet-cute. He just doesn't expect the plot twist at the end! Chifuyu x F Reader

Chifuyu tugged his jacket tighter around himself as he stepped into the cosy little manga and cat café, shaking off the chill from outside. He was supposed to meet Takemichi later, but he was early, and honestly, killing time surrounded by manga and cats sounded like heaven.

He wandered between the rows of books, fingers grazing colorful spines, until a quiet sound caught his attention — a soft laugh.

Near the corner window, a girl was sitting cross-legged on one of the plush couches, a stack of manga beside her and a tiny, dozing cat on her lap. She was absorbed in a volume of "Nyanko Days," smiling so sweetly that Chifuyu found himself pausing mid-step, like an idiot.

Cute.

He realised he was staring and quickly pretended to examine the shelf next to him, but then the girl noticed him anyway.

For a second, neither of them said anything. Chifuyu froze like a kid caught doing something wrong. You blinked at him, wide-eyed...then smiled shyly.

'You can sit, you know,' you say, your voice soft, 'There's a whole couch.'

Chifuyu rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly way too aware of how awkward he must look, 'Uh... right. Sorry. I’m not, uh, creeping or anything.'

Your smile widened, and you shifted your books to make room, 'It’s a manga café. Everyone creeps a little.'

He laughed — a quick, nervous sound — and finally sat down, keeping a careful distance between them.

The cat, disturbed by the movement, lifted its head and meowed.

'Oh, sorry, Yumi,' you murmur, scratching behind its ears.

'You know the cat’s name?' Chifuyu asked, surprised.

'I come here a lot,' you say, cheeks tinting pink, 'I guess I read more manga than a normal person should.'

Chifuyu grinned, some of his nerves slipping away, 'There's no such thing as too much manga.'

That got you to laugh — a light, musical sound that made his chest feel weirdly light.

You leaned over slightly, lowering your voice like you were sharing a secret, 'If you like cats and fighting manga, I’ve got a recommendation that'll change your life.'

Chifuyu's heart did an awkward little skip at the way she smiled.

He cleared his throat, pretending to think very seriously, 'That’s a bold claim. I might need proof.'

You grin and hand him a volume from your stack without hesitation, 'Challenge accepted.'

The two quickly fell into conversation — comparing favorite series, arguing over the best "bad boy with a soft heart" character types, and sharing funny cat stories. Chifuyu didn’t even notice the time slipping by. He just knew this was the most fun he'd had with a stranger in forever.

Just as he was starting to wonder if maybe, just maybe, he should ask for your number, his phone buzzed.

Takemitchy: I'm here! You inside?

'Ah, crap,' Chifuyu muttered, standing up, 'I'm supposed to meet a friend. Guess I lost track of time.'

'Me too!' you say, smiling as you scoop up the now-sleepy cat, 'my brother's picking me up. He can be overprotective at times.'

You walk toward the entrance together, and right then, Takemichi bursts through the door.

'Yo, Chifuyu! Sorry, I'm late!' Then his eyes landed on the girl, 'Oi, there you are! I've been texting you!'

Chifuyu blinked in confusion, looking between them.

Takemichi grinned and ruffled your hair, 'What, did you get distracted by manga again? Chifuyu, this is my little sister.'

You stick your tongue out at your brother, 'You’re one to talk.'

Chifuyu’s jaw practically hit the floor, 'Your sister?!'

You look up at him with a mischievous sparkle in your eye and say, 'Nice meeting you, Chifuyu.'

Meanwhile, Chifuyu stood frozen, torn between horrified realisation and dumb, immediate affection. He was so screwed.

Meanwhile, you just smiled sweetly at him, totally calm, like you hadn't just flipped his world upside down.

Before he could recover enough to say something smart, you shifted Yumi the cat into Takemichi's arms, much to his horror, and turned back to Chifuyu, pulling your phone from your pocket.

'Here,' you say brightly, tapping on his arm, 'Give me your phone for a sec?'

'Uh—' Chifuyu fumbled like a fool, yanking it from his jacket and nearly dropping it, 'Y-Yeah, sure!'

You giggle under your breath but politely take it, typing quickly.

You hand it back. On the screen, a new contact was saved: Takemichi’s Sister (Manga Buddy!) Below it, you had written: Text me those manga recommendations, okay?

Chifuyu stared at the screen, feeling like he might just melt into the floor.

'I’ll be waiting,' you tease, adjusting the strap of your bag.

Then, with no warning, she throws her arms around Takemichi in a quick, tight hug, 'Thanks for picking me up, big bro,' you say warmly.

Takemichi laughed and patted your head, 'Yeah, yeah. You owe me dinner.'

You pull back and smile at Chifuyu one last time, 'It was really nice finally meeting you. See you around!'

With a little wave, you turn and head toward the exit, leaving Chifuyu standing there, holding his phone like it was something sacred.

Takemichi watched you go, then slowly turned back to Chifuyu...with the most evil smirk Chifuyu had ever seen on his face.

'You okay there, buddy?' Takemichi said, elbowing him.

Chifuyu’s mouth opened — closed — opened again, 'That’s your sister?! You never said you had a sister!'

'You never asked,' Takemichi said way too casually, then leaned in, dropping his voice, 'And just so you know, if you even think about making a move on her—'

'I’m not!' Chifuyu blurted immediately, face burning.

Takemichi grinned even wider, 'Good. Because I’d have to kill you.'

Chifuyu nodded way too fast, 'Yup. Got it. Totally professional. Nothing’s happening. Nope. Manga recommendations only!'

Takemichi laughed as he slung an arm around Chifuyu’s shoulders and started dragging him out of the café.

Chifuyu glanced down at his phone, heart thudding as he saw your name again. He couldn’t help the little smile that crept onto his face.

He was absolutely screwed.

[majoryeager104]

𝐀𝐎𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒!

my fave anime/manga omg I’ve been wanting to write for it for a while but I’ve had no idea where to start but then I was like ‘I should probably start the way I start everything else lol HEADCANONS!!’

so here’s some Relationship + Random hc’s of some of my favorite AOT characters! If you want a part two or a specific character added in the next one, lemme know!

Featuring: Eren, Armin, Mikasa, Jean, Levi, Hange, and Erwin

𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐧

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An amazing soldier, but a dumb boyfriend

Like, on the field, fighting, he’s brilliant

its not to say he’d be a terrible boyfriend

im just saying he’d have no idea what to do half the time

like if ur upset he’s just like “um don’t cry 🧍”

*awkwardly pats ur back*

but he’s pretty much clueless otherwise

as you can tell in the series, he’s not good at processing his emotions

and if he thinks he can’t process his OWN emotions, just wait till he tries to process yours

ngl tho it would get to a point where he’s so good at understanding you and how you’re feeling that it’s like ‘stfu Eren you’ve got ur own problems’

like bros so invested in just TRYING that he pushes his own emotions to the side

on a random note

he snores like crazy

if he’s not awake that is bc if he’s awake he’s like being silly at fuckin 1 AM

either talking with Armin, or just yapping

or maybe practicing melee moves in the middle of the floor

or working out

Or snacking

you get the idea

hes also a chocoholic bye-

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𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐚

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sweetest shyest pookiest gf ever

shes got so much emotional depth, but she has a hard time expressing it

but when she does

shell tell you the sweetest thing ever

or like give you the most thoughtful compliment you’ve ever recieved in ur life

and then she’ll get shy and run away

not only she’s like ‘omg why did I say that’

buts she’s also like ‘oh god I probably made them uncomfortable was that weird?’

and then u reassure her like ‘nah that was actually the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me’

and verbally she’s like ‘oh ok 🙂’

but internally she’s like ‘yay 🙂’

on a random note

when she’s nervous in public cos there’s a lot of people

shell subconsciously hold ur hand

it’s not like she’s like scared, bc u know she’s Mikasa

but big crowds make her anxious and the noise gives her a headache

so most times she just prefers hanging out somewhere quiet

like a boba shop or a library

And I also hc that she’s actually really good at drawing and has this sketchbook that she carries with her and draws in when ur at boba shops

And while you’d think it was full of quick doodles it’s actually all ART. (maybe I should do hc’s on each characters art styles if they have one lmao)

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𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧

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this Barbie is a sweetie pie bitch

honestly he carries the dates tho

and by that i mean he’s PLANNING THEM ALL MONTHS IN ADVANCE

freakin loid forger ahh

he’s got most of it written down but he’s also still got some date ideas stored in that big head of his

bc he’s an over thinker and an over achiever so he wants to like maximize the experience ig

like a nerd 🤓

(im sorry im bullying him i swear i love him)

so he plans all these dates, and everything is going well until he’s actually on said date with you

bc he rehearsed a few little one liners and flirtations for weeks on end but upon seeing you he immediately forgot them 😅

so he’s a stuttering blushing mess the whole time

freakin cutie

random hcs

he hates spicy food

it literally makes him cry

but he also doesn’t really like sweets much

so he usually resorts to really simple foods or something savory

basic like him (I’m sorry)

I also hc that he’s self conscious about his forehead (same bro)

hence the thick bangs lmao

but yk what big head big think is what I always say

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𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧

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everyone knows he’s respectful

A true gentleman

but if you recall that scene with Mikasa in the cadet corps

He’d also be super nervous around u

blushing and smiling

(Ohh my god my heart)

he tries so hard to play it cool

but no amount of flirting and smirking can hide the fact that he’s stuttering and blushing like an idiot

and oh god if you flirt back

he’s like actually gonna pass away 🫠

and I am too bc he’s so cute

random hcs

he talks in his sleep

hes a thigh guy

hed walk on the outside of the sidewalk w u unprompted

he’s reaaaally good at impressions

he once did a killer impression of captain levi

and everyone laughed until they spotted Levi a little ways behind him

and then they had to hold back their laughter while Levi yelled at him for it 💀

he once tried to cut his own hair growing up

and it was so bad that his mom ended up shaving his head

He swears he looked handsome w it tho

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𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢

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omg this man

no one would ever know you two were together

except for Hange, Miche and Erwin bc they sniff out this shit like crazy

but when yall are alone

he holds your hand like all the time

hes super clingy

but won’t admit it

like

hes laying on top of you with his arms and legs wrapped around you like a koala

and he’s like “you’re so clingy y/n 🙄”

random hcs!

we know he doesn’t sleep

but what’s weirder is when you wake up and he’s just staring at you

”hey”

and scares the shit outta you

like Jean he walks on the outside of the sidewalk unprompted

and he’s also a sidewalk karen

like if someone else is walking by he’s giving them a look like “try and move me bitch”

”you can’t”

My stronk scary boi

And because he’s old as rocks I also hc that he probably knits as a hobby

idk why, but I can absolutely see him knitting scarves and shit for Eren and the others (and u ofc)

like its winter and everyone is training and he’s out here passing out scarves he made 😭

Hanged like ”where’d you get all these scarves Levi?”

and he’s just like “mind your damn business”

and his ears get pink when he’s embarrassed so that kinda answers the question

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𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞

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AHHHHH

as a Hange Kinnie I’m not projecting whatsoever 😌

but they’d totally be clingy

in like the most extroverted way

yapping about you to everyone

till Levi tells them to shut up

They’re out there fighting titans like “you know y/n usually kills titans like this”

and Levi’s like “Y/N IS RIGHT OVER THERE”

Brings u pretty rocks

cant flirt to save their life but it’s the thought that counts 😌😌

random hcs!

asks the most random and way too personal questions

“I’m not gonna dignify that with a response” said a shocked and disgusted Levi

Hange absolutely points out animals they see

like, in the middle of a fight they’re just like “CAPTIAN LEVI Y/N!!”

and you both look over scared bc you think Hange is hurt

and they’re just like “LOOK THERES A SQUIRREL! 🤩”

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𝐄𝐫𝐰𝐢𝐧

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we know he’s a gentleman

and I see so many ppl making him out like he’s “daddy”

to which I say

Nah

hes ‘father figure’ 😌😌😌

he’d actually be an amazing partner though

buys you flowers on a regular basis

dates might not be as often

hes a busy man you know 😏

but he definitely treats you to a date whenever he can

if you’re self conscious

no you’re not 😶

he’s got the most random, deliberate, sweetest, kick your feet and giggle compliments stored up for you

and he’ll tell you all of them if it makes you feel better about yourself

random hcs

another loud as fuck snorer I fear

but that’s heard on the occasion that he actually sleeps

bros obviously a workaholic so

he also forgets to eat

you and Levi have to remind him

when he’s not on the job and completely focused

hes actually kind of scatterbrained and loses random stuff like “where are my glasses” and they’re on his head 💀

he’s so old istg I love him so much

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[talesofesther]

what once was mine | ch 1

Loki x Reader

Summary: When watching what once was supposed to be the rest of his life, in an empty room in the TVA, Loki sees someone he can't recognize; a girl who's all tenderness and loose smiles, and most importantly, she was smiling at him.

A/N: A long overdue mini-series for one of my favorite characters of all time. I had this idea when season one of Loki first came out, but never got to writing it, and now with season two coming, I decided to finally do it. There are two important things that need to be said before we head into it though; firstly and most importantly, I will not be following the show's plot at all, this story will only be focusing on the relationship between Loki and the reader, after all that's what it is about and I don't want it to be unnecessarily huge; secondly, this story will be mostly told in moments, which means that not every single scene happening between the characters will be written down in length. Lastly, I do hope you can all enjoy it. <3

Masterlist

Things felt worthless. Everything suddenly seemed unimportant. His whole life, everything he knew, felt small and frail. Because here, infinity stones were mere paperweights.

Loki scoffed as he pushed himself up from the floor, one hand coming up to tug at the collar still wrapped around his neck. This place made him feel as if his brain was melting, it was all too much, too sudden—sacred timeline, variants. A sense of utter helplessness started to weigh heavily in the pit of his stomach.

Yet he couldn't hold himself back from sitting at the single table in the middle of the dim-lit room. The checkered image of the Avengers right in front of him seemed to be taunting him.

This was still the same day, right?

Or maybe not, Loki wasn't certain anymore; it sure didn't feel like the same day.

For a split second, as he looked down at the red, round device resting on top of the table, he thought about how everything here looked so old-fashioned. It was almost ironic, for a place out of time.

Loki couldn't help himself. His curiosity got the best of him eventually. But if anyone had their whole life just a click away, they'd probably do the same.

So he watched, through glimpses passing on a screen, a life that was supposed to be his. He watched his mother die, and then his father; he watched as Thor called him a brother with a smile on his face again, and as they made earth a new home for Asgard. Loki's eyes were already a pool of tears as soon as his mother's lifeless body had appeared in front of him, they cascaded down his cheeks freely, leaving behind a damp path of a lifetime worth of mourning, now seen in less than a minute. The loss somehow felt greater, because now he wouldn't even have those moments to begin with.

But suddenly, amidst the moments of suffering and mistakes, an unfamiliar face appeared. She had a smile on her face most of the time, and even through the static of the image in front of him, Loki could clearly see the glint in her pupils, the crinkle beside her eyes. She was quite captivating, maybe that's why it took him a second to realize she was smiling at him.

A frown etched itself in Loki's eyebrows, he leaned forward on his chair as he pressed play again. Curiosity and... apprehension twirled wildly inside his stomach.

The moments with her were endless. Walks on the beach, shared ice creams, quiet nights watching a movie, dancing together in a dark kitchen, the golden rays of a sunset shining against her hair in a memory tucked away like a treasure; and even a moment of her talking with Tony Stark and the others, while her hand held tightly onto Loki's, the other Loki, that is. All of them looked futile, a simple existence Loki would never have considered fit for him; so why did these moments feel important?

Inside TVA's lonely room, Loki held his breath until his lungs ached. His heart was threatening to jump out of his chest and his eyes were stinging for a whole new reason. He could feel the shaking of his own hands. That look in her eyes, it was one of love, anyone who saw would know it. But the cause of the sudden lump in Loki's throat was the fact that this look was always directed at him. That love in her eyes, that smile on her lips; was for him.

Several minutes went by with him silently looking at the paused image of her on the checkered screen. A few stray tears rolled down his cheeks, and he wasn't sure why yet. If it was for the shock of learning that someone could love him this much; or because of the envy, the longing for something that wasn't even his, not really, he never got there after all.

There was a hole in his chest, a missing piece of something he never had. Loki didn't even know her name, yet a part of him was screaming it anyway.

He eventually moved on, and almost threw up when he watched Thanos take his life from him. Loki watched his brother cry over his lifeless body, yet he wasn't seeing her.

And despite the boatload of information thrown at him, the questions clouding his mind were only; who is she? Where is she?

Lost. Loki felt more lost than he probably ever did in his entire life. He had just watched what was supposed to be the rest of his life, yet... it wouldn't be. So what now?

He sat down on the small stairs of the room, burying his head in his hands.

And then there was this girl; smiling and laughing and holding his hand as if he had been the best thing to ever happen to her. This feeling, warm and heavy, squeezing Loki's heart, was a foreign one—he couldn't quite place why that look of pure adoration in her eyes was directed at him.

He needed to know who she was. He needed to find her and ask her why. He needed to know what she was, or- would be to him.

The sudden sound of the door opening startled Loki, he watched as Mobius walked into the room, his steps overly cautious. "Loki? Nowhere left to run."

Gulping back a sob clawing its way through his throat, Loki took a deep breath. He slowly glanced up, voice calm and defeated as he asked a question he already knew the answer to; "I can't go back, can I?"

Mobius simply looked at him, his eyes holding some kind of sympathy as he spared Loki from hearing the truth out loud.

Loki pursed his lips, his gaze slowly trailed back to the screen on his left that again adorned a paused image of the mysterious girl. Her lips were turned up just slightly, dark sunglasses covered her eyes, and she held a slowly melting ice cream in one of her hands. "Who is she?" he asked quietly.

Placing his weapon on the table, Mobius let out a long sigh, "I was hoping you wouldn't ask about her."

The words made Loki snap his head towards him, a frown coming to his eyebrows immediately.

"She..." Mobius hesitated, "she is someone almost as annoying as you."

"That doesn't answer my question." Loki nearly sounded offended. He got up then, taking slow steps towards Mobius. "She seemed... important, yet I don't know who she is."

"I'm afraid you haven't met her yet."

"Then tell me who she is."

Mobius grimaced; "I don't think it's my place to say it."

"That's absurd," Loki scoffed, "it's my life we're talking about here."

"How about we help each other then, hm?" Mobius offered, and when Loki only frowned at him, he continued; "a fugitive Variant has been killing our Minutemen."

Loki narrowed his eyes. "And you need the God of Mischief to help you stop him?"

A small smirk came to Mobius' lips; "That's right. You help us stop him. I get you an opportunity to meet her and you can ask her whatever questions you want to know."

A meeting with someone didn't feel like much for his end of the bargain, but that same voice inside Loki was still screaming a name he didn't know how to spell. He had to know.

"Deal."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 2 here

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

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Loki’s taglist:@milkiane @v1ci0us

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 22: I May Be Right or I May Be Crazy

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter twenty two of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 9.1K

Warnings: I'm going to label this one 18+ because it handles some heavy subjects! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. Seriously it is DARK. THIS ONE IS REALLY DARK! Angst, Cursing, Mentions of Abuse (sort of- it's more the reader being used without knowledge of it and I'm not sure what to call that), Numbness, Mentions of character going through some HEAVY EMOTIONS and INTERNAL TRAUMA , Violence, Explicitly Described Torture, Fire, Graphic depiction of death, Blood, Gore, Sexual References, Family Problems. Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC. Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

A/N: I'm serious guys this one is really gory, violent, and bloody. I mean, so is the show. BUT this is an additional warning if you don't like reading that kind of stuff, please do not read this. It also handles a really delicate issue with the reader going through something that no one should ever have to. I've never written something like this before and honestly I don't think I ever want to again, but it had to be addressed...

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

"Are you sure you want to stay here?" Ben says, gently pushing back a few strands of your hair from your face, fingers trailing against your cheeks, warmed from the morning sun that peaks through the large trees which shield Legend's property from the rest of the world.

Butcher had finally found Mindstorm, figured out which cabin he was hiding at, and although you wanted to go to make sure that Ben was alright, you knew that you couldn't go with him.

There was something you needed to do and you needed to do it without Ben there. It had to be handed delicately. You weren't sure what you would learn, what it would confirm or deny, and as much as it hurt you to be apart from Ben, you had to do it alone.

It was two days after your revelation, after you received what seemed like divine wisdom while staring at your daughter as if seeing her for the first time in forty years and understanding what it was that you'd forgotten. It had been hard to laugh off why you'd shattered a mug during Butcher's little pow-wow, even Rosemary was concerned after, but you'd waved her off and said that you were just getting accustomed to your new supe strength.

But Ben wasn't fooled. When you went upstairs to clean the alcohol from your clothes Ben had followed and tried to get you to tell him what was wrong, but you'd only said that you were tired. He knew you were lying, but he only sighed and hugged you because he didn’t really know what else to do.

And now standing outside of Legend's house while Ben, Butcher, and Hughie were about to go after Mindstorm you wanted to tell him what you believed, but you still couldn't.

You had to find out for yourself.

"Yeah. I don't want to leave Rosemary or Lou." You reply leaning in to his touch. It was true, you didn't, but it wasn't the whole truth and it made you feel guilty. You'd never lied to him before or well, hadn't tried to intentionally trick him. And it felt worse to do this now that the two of you were starting over, and when everything felt more wonderful than you could have imagined all those years ago.

Ben eyes you for a moment and you're suddenly worried that he's been a mind reader this whole time and he's just never said anything.  But then his expression softens. "Are you sure you're okay? You haven't said too much since the other day."

"I'm fine." You touch the front of his supe suit, laying your hand directly over his heart and feeling the gentle thud in the palm of your hand. It was difficult not to touch him now, not after the boundary had been crossed so many times over the past two days. Somewhere deep down you worried that Ben was still uncomfortable with you doing something so intimate in public.

You were aware that everyone was looking at the two of you, Rosemary and Lou standing more towards the house on the front porch and Hughie and Butcher were standing by Butcher's car parked in the long driveway. Butcher's car still had a giant hole in the roof from when Ben punched through it and when he saw the hole, Butcher had threatened to send Ben back to Russia and you threatened to melt Butcher into a puddle.

But Ben gently touches your wrist, where your hand rests against his chest, frowning slightly.

"Fine. I've got a few things on my mind-" You whisper, hating how easily he could read you, but at the same time you loved it.

Ben made you feel seen, and after years of feeling invisible, feeling like you were losing you best friend, and feeling like he would never care about you the same way, it made you happy and comforted.

"Then tell me. I want to help." Ben's hand slides up your wrist to your hand, entwining his fingertips with yours and surprising you again. He was being so open and thoughtful in front of everyone. His eyes search yours as if he was trying to see your thoughts and it made you smile again to understand how much he loved you and cared about you.

"Ben." You breathe, squeezing his hand. "I don't want to talk about it now. Can we talk about it when you get back?"

"Is it why you're not coming with me?" His frown deepens.

"A part of it. But I really want to make sure that Lou and Rosemary are safe."

Ben raises his gaze to look at where Rosemary stands frowning at the two of you, before he looks back at you. "Okay." But he doesn't seem happy with the turn of events.

You didn't blame him, you didn't want him to go face Mindstorm alone even with Hughie and Butcher. You still didn't trust Butcher and of all your old teammates Mindstorm was the most troubled.

"Can you promise me something?" You ask Ben, looking up at him.

"Anything."

"Watch out for the kid."

"The kid?" Ben looks confused. "Lou?"

"No. Hughie." You glance over to where Hughie is standing at the back of the car with Butcher.

Probably talking about the Temp V they're going to shoot up to take down Mindstorm.

You really didn't want to leave Ben with Mindstorm of all people. Mindstorm was probably one of the only supes that could do something to Ben. Ben did have some psychic immunity, but you thought that Mindstorm could peel away the layers, sink deep into his mind, make Ben see the things that always plagued him. And the last thing you wanted was for Ben to be trapped in an automatic loop of him listening to his father say what a disappointment he was. You were trying to make him forget those things, just as Ben tried his hardest to make you forget the things your mother said to you.

If Mindstorm put Ben through that, you were going to hunt him down to the ends of the earth and make him understand what it was like for someone to peel the skin from your flesh bit by bit and then make him eat that brain of his that he loved so much.

Plus you figured that the worst thing that could happen is Mindstorm would lock you in your own head and you'd have to spend your final hours with your dead mother, which yes that would suck, but at least at the end of it you'd have a new fun superpower to torture Mindstorm with.  Seemed like a good trade-off if you had to spend your last moments with the bitch herself.

I wonder what he'd make her say to me, what I'd see. I've heard it all before, don't really think that he'd make me see anything I haven't seen before or heard before.

"Why?"

"Hughie's not like us. None of this is him. He's different. He's a good person and all of this is-” You glance over at Hughie again, before looking at Ben. “ Just look out for him."

Ben's hand tightens in yours where it still rests against his chest. "Fine. But if that fucker comes for me I'm not going to tip-toe around Hughie's feelings. I'm going to kill Mindstorm, that's why I'm going there."

"I know." You nod.

"I mean you saw the shit he did to those kids-" Ben whispers the last part because he doesn't want Lou to hear, but notices Rosemary perk up, where she stands on the front porch.

"Yeah. I remember."

Mindstorm was more fucked up than most of the others on your team, found joy in making people see terrible things. And his favorite targets were children. Stan had a hell of a time covering that up, covering up Mindstorm's morning walks through parks and on the edges of elementary schools. He liked to live in their minds as he took them apart bit by bit, exposed them to his own twisted reality.

Mindstorm wasn’t a good person, but you knew that Hughie was.

"I'm not asking you to spare his life." You whisper back. "He was one of the worst from our old team. I'm just asking you to look out for the kid."

"I will."

You nod, still worried. He was going with Hughie and Butcher, but it still felt like he was alone if you weren't with him. The problem was you couldn’t see the way around it. This was your chance to go alone to find some answers, but you didn't like it, didn't like leaving Ben.

Probably about as much as Ben hated leaving you.

“I promise I’ll come back.” He murmurs pressing his forehead against yours, green eyes soft in the morning light. He was mistaking you hesitation for your fear of him leaving and never coming back.

You reach up with your free hand to touch his cheek. "I know." Your thumb gently rubs over his bearded cheek, smiling up at him. "I love you." You whisper.

Ben leans down and kisses you softly, just a fleeting brush of his lips against yours that leaves you wanting more. "I love you too Sweetheart." He murmurs with a soft smile.

Again you weren't used to that, used to him looking at you like you were his whole world, and you never wanted him to stop.

Ben pulls away and raises his gaze to where Rosemary stands arms crossed over her chest with Lou standing beside her watching with wide eyes.

"Be careful." Rosemary says, but it sounds pained, almost as if it took a large amount of effort to say, but you were happy she said something to him that wasn't meant to hurt him.

Maybe that's a good sign. You think to yourself, but then you notice the frown on her face. Or maybe not.

He nods once, but as soon as he takes a step towards where Hughie and Butcher are waiting by the car, Lou runs to him, her tiny arms pumping as fast as she can.

"Ben wait!" She cries, throwing herself against his leg and pressing her head into his right knee. "Don't go. If you go Aunty y/n will be sad again!" Lou mumbles into the fabric, hugging him tight.

Ben stiffens, his eyes shifting to you and for a second you see something unfamiliar flash in his gaze, something painful. It shakes you to your core, and makes you remember how he looked when he stood above your bed the night he came back and said that he couldn't lose you and when he sat in the car and showed you how upset he was that he wasn't there for you when you were pregnant with Rosie.

It made you want to pull him into your arms and hold him close, make him feel loved all over again, show him how much you wanted him here with you despite everything that happened in the past.

He crouches down so he can look Lou in the eye. "I won't be gone long. I'm a little harder to kill than these other sons of-" Ben stops to sensor what he was going to say and clears his throat. "Um. I'm a little harder to keep away than other people."

"Do you promise?" She says.

"Yes I promise honey." Ben smiles tightly.

"Take this for good luck." Lou reaches into the front of her bright pink overalls to pull out a small yellow flower about the size of Ben’s pinky, holding on to the stem in her little hand.

You have no idea where she got it, only that she was holding it out to Ben as if it had the power to save the universe.

Ben looks from Lou's face to the flower, but takes it from her. “Thank you.” He places it carefully in his pocket and zips it in, but before he can stand to go, Lou throws her arms around Ben’s neck and hugs him tight.

You're sure that Ben must barely feel it, you'd seen a supe try to choke him out and Ben only laugh at them. But this is different.

Ben doesn’t move, in fact it doesn’t look like he’s really breathing. His eyes flick to where you’re standing, wide  in surprise and you give him an encouraging smile, because Lou already loves Ben just as much as you do. Ben’s arms are still at his sides awkwardly, but he finally wraps one arm over Lou’s back to hold him to him, gently as if he’s afraid he’ll crush her.

"I'll come back." He murmurs to her. "I promise." But his eyes aren't on Lou, they're on you, open and almost earnest. Making you understand again that he didn't want to leave you, that he wanted to stay, but if he had to go, he'd always come back to you.

Rosemary watches with a frown from the porch, but doesn’t say anything. In the days that had followed their initial meeting she was still trying her best to let him know that she wasn't going to be his friend, that she wasn't going to forgive him.

It hurt you. You didn't say that to her, because you didn't want her to be guilted into liking Ben, but it hurt. It hurt to see your daughter push him away, when all Ben wanted was family. You understood that. Understood that in the way he treated Lou and understood it in the way he treated you.

He was so different than before and you wished Rosemary could see it like you did, but you understood that she needed to realize that all by herself no matter how long it took. You all had time.

Maybe that was the problem, Rosemary had an eternity to hate Ben, but maybe the good thing was that you had an eternity to make him feel loved.

Lou pulls back from him and you take her hand while Ben stands.

"Oi' while we still got daylight!" Butcher shouts from his car, leaning back against the door.

But just before you think Ben is going to go to the car, he steps close to you and kisses you so fiercely you don't remember how to breathe and then he's gone just as suddenly.

You watch the car pull away holding Lou's hand tightly, while it goes down the long drive and finally vanishes in the thicket of trees. It doesn't feel as warm anymore, you're not sure if that's because Ben is gone or because you're preparing yourself for what you have to do next.

"Here you go kitten. This is the only one I could find" Legend says walking through the front door of his house and past Rosemary to hand you a knee-length dark green leather coat. It was vintage, and you had asked him to find something that didn't make you look ridiculous. Legend had closets full of clothes that would have made you look like you were in a Solid Gold music video, and Ben had started wearing the clothes around the house because he didn’t have anything else.

Of course on him they looked good, Ben could be wearing a paper bag and a shower cap and still somehow pull it off.

"Thank you." You release Lou's hand to take it, putting your arms through the sleeves so it hung over your jeans and your black t-shirt.

I swear if I lose one more jacket someone is going to pay. Yeah, because that's what I should be upset about, losing another jacket.

"What do you need that for?" Rosemary asks.

"Lou." You crouch down next to her, smiling up into her freckled cheeks. "I want you to go inside and draw me a field of sunflowers okay?"

"A whole field?" Her eyes brighten.

"A whole field."

"Can I give it to Ben?" She asks.

"Of course you can honey. I think he’d like that very much.” You tuck her dark hair behind her ear before she turns and runs through the large wooden double doors at the front of Legend’s home.

You stand. "I have to do something."

"What do you mean? I thought you just told Ben that you weren't going after Mindstorm?"

"I'm not going after Mindstorm."

"Then what? You’re going to kill someone else aren’t you?” Rosemary crosses her arms over her chest, obviously upset.

You don’t answer.

“Why? Why are you doing this-“ She shouts exasperated.

“Something about everything that happened doesn’t sit well with me.”

“What do you mean everything that happened?”

“Ben was Vought’s golden boy. And I don’t understand why Stan Edgar would just let him be taken like that.” You look at where Legend stands. You didn't think that he knew anything about it, hoped that he didn't. He was one of your oldest friends and to find out that he had betrayed you the same as Payback had betrayed Ben wouldn't end well.

By now he's lit a cigarette, smoking it thoughtfully. "I've wondered the same thing. Stan Edgar was involved in everything, and for him to give the go ahead for Payback to hand Soldier Boy over, means that there must have been some money exchanged for him to green light it." Legend blows out a lungful of smoke that hangs in the air in front of his face. "Stan never brought up much with me, just that he was excited that the team was going to be given a chance to help out in Nicaragua." Legend frowns. "I will say that before the premiere that night, Stan seemed to already know that y/n wasn't going to be on that trip. In fact he was convinced that you were going to stay state-side and work with Vogelbaum on some things."

"Vogelbaum?" Rosemary questions looking at him.

"He was the main scientist for Vought, he had in fingers in every pie, knew the extent of all our powers, except mine." You wave a hand. "I always refused bloodwork, I didn't want him to be poking and prodding around in my DNA for too long. But he definitely was big on genetic testing. They were trying to make a new hero-" You pause remembering what Vogelbaum said the night of the premiere. You hadn't remembered what he said until now. When Vogelbaum mentioned the next generation of heroes.

"What is it?" Legend asks.

"Stan knew I wasn't going to Nicaragua. He knew that Countess would make Ben push me away, but what if he was working with Vogelbaum?"

"What would that help?" Rosemary interjects.

"The night of the premiere Vogelbaum said that he wanted me to come by the lab, to meet someone. He said that he was working on "the next generation of heroes" or something." You shake your head as if trying to move things back in place so you can understand. "There's something I'm missing about the whole situation. Some missing piece that doesn't fit." You bite the inside of your cheek. "Stan tried to come talk to me after Ben died, but I never heard what he had to say- I broke his nose and threw him out."

"Maybe he was going to try to get you to come to the lab again." Legend shrugs.

"But why were they so adamant about that it just makes no sense. Why was I important? Why me? It could have been anyone. Hell, they could have had Countess go instead of me. There were other women, other supes. Why did I matter so much?"

You glance at Rosemary again, examining her face and seeing the same thing you realized the other day. Deep down you understood why, but you wanted to be wrong, you didn't want to believe that someone would take that from you, that someone was capable of doing something like that.

"But do you have to kill someone to find out why?" Rosemary pleads. "I don't understand how you're okay with killing people-" She begins to say looking at you like she's never met you before.

"You think I'm okay with killing people?" You ask her. "You think I like this?"

"No but-"

"I've done a lot of shit that I'm not proud of. I've lost control. I've killed people. But believe me when I say that what I'm about to do, I do for you. It might not seem that way right now, but I hope that one day you can understand that."

"Mom I-" She starts, but you hold out your hand. She looks from it to you as if confused, but then finally takes it.

"If Homelander comes here, you kill him. Do you understand me? You don't give him a chance to speak, you kill him." You say, feeling your powers transfer into Rosemary. It didn't hurt, it never did, in fact if she did it to anyone else they probably wouldn't have noticed. Her ability was almost undetectable, the only thing that changes is the quick flash of molten gold in her eyes when she does so. But it was instantaneous and it didn't matter how long Rosemary held on to someone, all it took was skin to skin contact, one touch and that was it.

Rosemary's expression hardens. "Okay."

"I love you." You squeeze her hand once more before you let go.

"I love you too mom."

You take a few steps away from her. "I'll be back tonight. I promise. If Ben gets back before me, just tell him that I needed to do something and that I'll be back. Don't let him try to come after me."

"He's not the easiest person to tell what to do." She sighs.

"I know." You shrug. "He's just like you."

"He is not-"

"He is."

"You need to borrow the car kitten?" Legend asks, beginning to search through his pockets for the keys to his black 1967 Impala. It was in mint condition and Legend was proud of it.

He should be. It's a nice car.

"Nah I think I'll hitch-hike." Your smile is triumphant and maybe a bit mischievous, as you take to the sky, leaving the world and everything you know behind.

If only you knew what was coming.

Stan Edgar was a simple man. He liked his whiskey neat, his coffee black, his cigars Cuban, his suits pressed, his dinner at 6 pm sharp, and his women poised. Stan Edgar rarely deviated from his plans, never cancelled a meeting, and took every phone call no matter how late. He read the Wall Street Journal each day, checked his blood pressure meticulously, and was in top shape for a man of his age. After years of shaping his image, Stan Edgar's life was the epitome of control and composure.

Not a hair was ever out of place, his apartment on the Upper East Side was perfectly organized, and he never got angry, he got even. He never lost a minute of sleep. He never raised his blood pressure and he knew the exact price that a minute of his time was worth.

He took his morning coffee in the dining room of his large five-bedroom penthouse apartment with a bowl of oatmeal while he read the Wall Street Journal and left his home at exactly 7 am only to return at 5 pm to read through various briefs before his housekeeper delivered his dinner to the same dining room table that he had previously had breakfast on.

When he was taken off the board from Vought, his schedule had deviated slightly, but it was easy for him to control the company, especially with the connections that Stan Edgar had worked his entire life to maintain.

Stan Edgar's life had reached a point of comfortable routine and after forty years it was as it should be. He knew the ins and outs of New York City, he had a stable home, various rental properties, rising stocks, and a control of most of the inner workings of Vought even with Homelander's hostile takeover. Homelander was proving to be a bigger problem than he hoped, but Stan Edgar did not allow himself to revel in Homelander's destruction of the company Stan worked so hard to build up.

Every moment in his life was mapped out to the second and Stan Edgar had worked hard to make it to the top, had crushed many an executive, assistant, and person to gain the power and status that he had.

When Forbes did a profile on him, they had proudly described his rise to power, of course there were details left out, pieces of Stan Edgar's life that he had worked hard to sweep under the rug. But he did not lose sleep over that.

His apartment is cold, silent, and dark when he walks through the front door at 6 pm sharp, odd because Stan expected his housekeeper to be standing there to take his coat as she had been for the past twenty years. The same navy blue wool coat he shrugs out of and hangs on the maple coatrack just inside the front door in his foyer.

You can hear the sound of his footsteps along the marble tiled floor as he makes his way through the silent apartment, his dark brown shoes polished to a shine, squeaking slightly against the polished tiles.

"Roberta?" Stan calls looking for his housekeeper. His voice caries through the darkness.

You could smell the tobacco from his last cigar on his suit coat, his heady cologne, and his hair oil that was just a little spicy. It was old fashioned, something that you could remember from the first time you met him.  You could hear the steady beat of his heart in his chest, perfectly maintained by the bottle of medication you had found in his bathroom only a few hours ago.

You already knew Stan Edgar's routine by heart, knew exactly how he spent his days, and the kind of person he was. Today was not the first time that you had trailed him, wove through the crowded streets behind his thin form as he moved oblivious to your shadowing, and watched his driver Carlos pick him up and drop him off at the correct times. You had done it many times, taken days to understand who he was, understand where he went at what time, and who he met with.

Nothing in Stan Edgar's life was a mystery to you.

Hughie's revelation of Victoria Newman's relation to Stan Edgar was not a surprise. It was a piece of information you held close to your heart if things between the two of you ever went South. You didn't fear her power and you weren't above torturing the weapon that Stan had turned her into. It would have been difficult, she was after all a senator, but it would be easy to inflict a small problem within her body telekinetically, something that looked normal to the naked eye.

Of course what you were about to do to Stan was going to be difficult to explain to the police.

You had contingencies in place for that though, there was nothing to worry your head over. The hardest thing you'd done today was get out of bed this morning and your day had included disposing of Stan Edgar's security detail, who hadn't even been able to touch you, let alone know that you were following him.

Some security detail.

You took a drag from your cigarette, leaning back in the high-backed chair in Stan's ornate living room, the tip burning orange in the darkness, the smoke obscuring your form where you lounge back against the faded green velvet. It already smelled like cigar smoke and you knew that it was where Stan smoked his nightly pipe after dinner, the velvet holding the strong scent of tobacco and Stan's ancient cologne. You hadn't had a cigarette since you were pregnant with Rosemary, but there was something about the drama of smoking one that you couldn't pass up.

Stan turns into the living room, but his foot hits something solid where nothing should be and he pauses.

"Roberta?" He says again hesitantly. "Did you move the couch?"

She wouldn't answer him, couldn't answer him. Killing her had probably been a mistake, but when you realized that she was an ex-hero hired by Stan as an extra precaution to make sure no-one entered his apartment, it had made you feel better, especially when she tried to electrocute you, which had surprisingly slowed you down, but not enough to spare her life.

You hear Stan's fingers fumble against the light switch on the wall and the hiss of his surprise when his hand comes back sticky and wet.

You can see him clearly in the darkness, Homelander's x-ray vision meant that you'd never have a problem seeing in the dark ever again. You watch Stan's nose wrinkle in disgust, confused at the discovery, but then watch as he reaches again and flips on the light, his eyes leveled at the ground trying to figure out what it was that he stumbled onto.

His security detail had come to sweep his apartment as they did each day thirty minutes before he arrived home, and it had been the last thing that they had ever done. The blood from the bodies was soaking through the hardwood floors and trickling down to the oriental rugs below Stan's modern living room furniture. The thick copper smell of blood was everywhere and you weren't sure how he missed it.

You hear the sharp intake of his breath as he sees the bodies, traces the ripped limbs and headless forms of his pathetic security detail at his feet. There were others in his bedroom, one in the kitchen, and another hanging from the horns of a moose head over the fireplace at your right where you sit, the blood flowing thick down the beige wallpaper and dripping onto the once pristine floors. There were nine in total, and although the past version of you would have maybe felt some remorse for their deaths, you were finding it difficult to, especially after realizing what you had.

"It's hard to find good help these days." You arch your brow taking a drag from the cigarette perched between your index and middle finger. "I'd say you paid too much for their service given how easy they were to dispose of. I'm kind of disappointed, thought that they'd be a bit more of a challenge."

Stan looks up from the bodies, eyes wide, to see you sitting there in the armchair. There was blood flecked over your shirt, on your jacket, in your hair and on your cheeks that you hadn't bothered wiping away, you figured that there would be more soon and you didn't care.

"Y/n." He keeps his voice composed, but you can hear his hand shift to his pocket for his phone.

It doesn't get far.

You telekinetically pull him over the back of the couch and force him on his knees in front of the ornate square coffee table poised in the center of the room. His hands palm down, fogging the glass with his body temperature. His body is outlined in bright purple, completely at your mercy and under your control, your own eyes glowing bright purple.

You allow yourself to take another drag of cigarette and let a cloud of smoke trickle out from your full lips. "It's good to see you Stan. How long has it been? Ten years? You look good better than my teammates did anyway."

"I was wondering when you were going to drop by." He says tightly eyeing you. "Are you going to keep pretending that you're not Indigo?"

You smile and laugh at him. "I think I'm done pretending."

You weren't surprised that Stan knew. When you'd seen him at your art show all those years ago when you moved back to the city you had suspected he knew, not to mention that he had called Legend to ask about you. It was unfortunate that Stan knew, because now you worried who else knew, but you also figured that the cat was out of the bag as soon as you fought Homelander.

Plus, maybe the secret would die with Stan.

"Is Ben here?" Stan asks, and you hear the way his voice sticks on Ben's name. His eyes shift to the dark corners of the room as if he believes that Ben will materialize from the shadows.

It's like him to be more afraid of Ben than me. No one was ever afraid of me. I was just Ben's little friend, another supe that they could dress up and put on display. They should have been afraid.

"No, I came alone. Thought I'd give him the night off."

"I’m surprised you let him back into your life after everything that happened." Stan replies, but you don't miss the twitch of his body as he tries to escape the grip of your powers. He wouldn't. Your hold was unbreakable for someone like him. If you had decided to use your powers on Ben or on Homelander, you were sure that it wouldn't hold them for long, they were too strong.

You examine Stan again. His body is rigid in your hold, head tilted up to stare at you, hair flopping forward into his face from when you yanked him over the couch, and his knees are pressed into the blood soaked carpet on the living room floor.

You knew what he was doing, he was trying to get inside your head, try to make you turn against Ben the way everyone else did, but you wouldn't fall for it, not again.

"Well you did you best to keep it that way, didn’t you Stan?"

"I don't know what you're talking about-" Stan's words are cut off in a gasp as your telekinetic grip tightens on his body, squeezing him tight for a moment before you release the pressure, but keep him where he is.

"Do me a favor, don't lie to me. It's insulting, plus we're old friends." You smile sweetly. "And I always love seeing my old friends. Especially ones who stabbed Ben and me in the back."

Your glowing purple eyes flick to the large painting on the living room wall. It's one of yours, a depiction of a quiet forest from your last show. It was weird to see a piece of the new life you crafted hanging there. "I'm flattered you bought one of my paintings."

"You always were talented. I was disappointed that you didn't start trying to sell them earlier. Probably would have sold more when you were a hero,  could have enhanced your image." He says, but you can hear the edge beneath his voice. He's trying to keep conversation, make this diplomatic, when he knows there's no way out. You’d made sure of that. No one was coming to help Stan Edgar.

"I sell enough now. Thanks though." Your body stands from the chair, listening to the rapid beat of his heart in his chest, and gesture to the collection of tobacco pipes that line the mantle beneath the body of the security guard. "My dad had a pipe just like this one." You stop at a simple one, not carved, plain, a dark cherry wood that tapered into solid black. "Used to smoke right before he went to bed every night. I spent a lot of time sketching him sitting in his chair by the fireplace, learning what he looked like, tracing the plains of his face." You take another long drag from the cigarette.

It was hard to think about your father after all these years, you hadn't thought of your family in a long time, not when you had Rosemary and Lou and now Ben. But you could still remember those quiet evenings when there was a hint of a chill in the air and your father would smoke his pipe and listen to music from the phonograph he had in the corner while you sat at his feet and drew him. Sometimes your mother would join him with her own embroidery in the matching arm chair next to his. As much as you never got along with her, you could see how much she loved your father and how much he loved her.

"I'd never met Homelander in person before a few days ago. I'd seen his face on billboards, on energy drinks but never in person. I would have realized it years ago if I had." You trace the gentle curve of the pipe with a fingertip, exhaling another trail of smoke.

"Realized what?"

"I'm only going to ask you this once Stan." You pause as you turn to look at him. "Why does Homelander have my father's nose?"

It was obscure. You knew that. But it was what you had realized the other day when you were looking at Rosemary, the one feature that distinguished her from Ben, the one piece of yourself that she had, was the same one that Homelander did. You suspected that the smell of hair dye you smelled when you met Homelander for the first time was to cover up the brown hair that he must have shared with Ben, just as the makeup on his cheeks would cover the familiar freckles Rosemary had. They could have been twins, you could see it now.

Stan doesn't breathe, his muscles straining under his suit as he silently fights for his freedom, his heartbeat thuds loudly in your ears, but he doesn't answer you.

Your eyes glow a dangerous purple and the ceiling light flickers above the two of you, the sound of the static with each blink breaking up the wet tap of the blood dripping to the floor and the low pitched thrum of your powers that fills the room.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Stan swallows.

"What did I say about lying to me?" You sigh, flicking the cigarette into the full length white curtains that remain closed over the living room windows, immediately catching fire. Of course they would, you'd soaked them in gasoline moments before Stan came into the room.

His eyes flick to the flames as they reach up to the ceiling, but the fire alarm wouldn't go off, you'd sabotaged it. 

"The human body can withstand 50 pounds of pressure per square inch before it starts to crush. I’ve never crushed anyone before, mind you I’ve also never been crushed." You shrug your shoulders turning back to look at him. "But I'm very interested to see what it will do to your body."

Stan utters one word. "Please."

"It's funny." You take a step closer to him, tapping your lip thoughtfully. "I didn't ask you to beg for you life, I asked you to answer a simple question."

Stan still doesn't answer. The high pitched snap of his fingers one by one breaking is sharp as you increase the pressure on his hands , like the crisp sound of a wishbone at Thanksgiving.

Stan inhales sharply, his gaze lowering to what used to be his fingers, not quite realizing what the sound was. You watch as the realization rolls across his face like thunderclouds on a stormy day, as he realizes  they have been reduced to mush beneath your powers and a scream rips from his throat, echoing through the empty hallways, but there's no one there to hear him scream. Blood swells beneath the ruined flesh, turning his skin a sickly shade of purplish-red, before oozing through the breaks in the tissue by the sharp points of what were the delicate bones of his hands.

"Ooo. That doesn't look too good buddy." You click your tongue. "You want to rethink your answer? Or do I have to do your toes to match?"

"Vogelbaum tried to tell you at the premiere." His voice is a weak growl, eyes not raising from his hands. "I tried to tell you too, but you broke my damn nose."

"Tell me what?" You hold your glowing purple hand over him like a warning prepared to crush whatever you have to, to make him speak.

He continues to look down at his ruined hands.

"Ah-ah-ah." You place a fingertip beneath his chin, feeling the stubble of his five o'clock shadow, so his gaze is now on you. "I want you to look at me."

"Ben was a manic, crazed, he needed to be replaced. He wouldn't follow orders, wouldn't listen to us. He only listened to you!" Stan spits, his eyes filled with rage and pain. "It was easy to turn the rest of the team against him. Countess was jealous of his attention on you, it was logical that she would be the one to break whatever you two had. Even Noir was easy to convince. He always was obsessed with you after you saved his life from that asshole." More blood seeps over the glass table.

You withdraw your hand from Stan's chin for a moment surprised. You knew that Countess was always trying to get between Ben and you, but the news of Noir's obsession was new.

"What do you mean Noir was obsessed with me?"

"Oh please." Stan seethes through his gritted teeth. "Did you really think that you kept losing things? Your hair ties, your underwear, your hairbrush, even that stupid fucking necklace you always wore! Noir was harder to keep out of your apartment than Ben whenever you were out of town. Not to mention he always asked to be put on the same interviews, given auditions in films you were in. Noir was always trying to get between Ben and you, but you never gave him the time of day. Do you have any idea how hard I had to work to make sure you never figured out that he kept breaking in to your apartment?"

Your body goes cold. You knew the necklace Stan was talking about, the pearl necklace that your father had given to you all those years ago, the one that you'd lost a few months before your birthday and never figured out where it went, and the one that Ben had replaced on the night he gave you everything you wanted. You had noticed some things missing, the hair-ties and hairbrush, but you thought you'd left in the hotel rooms that Vought paid for, you had no idea that Noir had been in your apartment.

Whenever he talked to you, you thought that he was being friendly, that Noir was trying to be nicer to you because the rest of the team avoided you due to your close relationship Ben, but you never imagined that he wanted to be more.

"Noir was first on board with the plan. It didn't take much to get the others to fall in line." Stan continues.

"What plan?"

"The plan to replace Soldier Boy. But it had to be handled delicately, there couldn't just be any supe that took over. It had to be someone worthy, someone who exemplified the bullshit American Ideals that Ben used to boast about in all of those ridiculous films."

"So what? You sent Ben off to fucking Russia and you replaced him with Homelander? You shoved all that American dream shit down Homelander's throat and look what you created. You created a fucking monster!"

"It wasn't supposed to be that way. Vogelbaum wanted the replacement to grow up with a mother. He saw how Ben lived with only a father's influence and he wanted a soothing reassuring person in the replacement's life."

"You're not answering my question." You snarl, your hands beginning to glow brighter as you tighten your grip on his feet, preparing to crush them into mush.

"We had the genetic material from Soldier Boy it was harder to get it from you!" Stan shouts, feeling the pressure intensify in his feet, thinking that if he answers your question you'd spare them.

You stop for a moment, tilting your head to the side. The heat from the flames on your left growing with every passing second as they spread to the other curtains on the second large window. “What are you saying?”

“Did you really think we didn’t know what you could do?" Stan almost laughs, but it comes out in a choking cough. "We knew. Your power is one of the rarest we’d ever seen. And Dr. Vogelbaum hoped that your son would have the same one, that your son would possess some quality that you had and the qualities that Soldier Boy had. The perfect weapon. The perfect supe." Stan croaks. "A supe that could adapt and walk away from death like you could. A supe that was perfectly under our control, different than Soldier Boy."

“Are you saying that Homelander is my son?” Your voice is dangerously low, no more than a snarl.

Stan swallows. “Yours and Soldier Boy.”

With those words, the bones in Stan’s feet snap loudly as they both are reduced to nothing, but crushed bone and flesh, never to be used ever again.

But his scream of pain is wiped out by the roaring in your ears as you realize what he's said, realize exactly what Vogelbaum did all those years ago, realize exactly why he asked you to come to the lab when you danced together at the premiere.

It was what you suspected, but that didn’t mean that you were any less ready to hear it. The wave of emotion that crashes over you squeezes your heart in your chest, because what kind of a monster would do that? What kind of person would take something like that from you or from anyone?

Anger, pain, shock, rage, and horror all war in your chest, grappling against your ribs, choking your next breath from your lungs, and make you feel as though your body is tearing itself apart.

You think about the hollow look in Homelander's dark eyes, remember what Hughie told you he was doing to Annie, what Hughie told you he had threatened to do, and remember what Butcher said that Homelander did to his wife. You remember how cocky and confident he was at the Twins home, how unaffected he was by the gore of the bodies on the upper levels, and remember the way he didn't seem to care that he was hurting Ben, that he killed Butcher, and then tried to kill you.

That monster is my son, is Ben's son. He's Rosemary’s brother-

You could feel the anxiety rising, threatening to rip your own heart out of your chest, but then it suddenly shifts to all encompassing rage. The entire room shakes with the force of your anger, spider cracks appearing in the drywall all around the room, the windows in the room shatter sending glass blowing outward onto the street sixty stories below the penthouse apartment, and the furniture begins to shift and slide along the floor restlessly as the flames flare bright red and orange and cause the wallpaper to curl black.

"How did you get my genetic material?" Your voice is eerily calm as you gaze at him, vision going red.

Stan looks up at you, painful tears in his eyes. "We couldn't do it when Ben was with you. He was so damn protective of you, if we tried to touch you with him around he would have torn us apart, so we had to wait for him to go shoot one of those stupid films overseas." He gasps. "Vogelbaum said that you wouldn't remember. Said that it would be just like a bad dream.

You freeze when he says that, the memory of the nightmare that had plagued you for decades flashing across your mind, every detail becoming crystal clear. The voice of Vogelbaum telling the nurses to hold you down, the smell of his breath, his face gazing down at you from between your legs with a sickening smile on his face, while you tried to clear your head, the sound of your own screams ripping from your throat as you tried to fight the drugs they pumped into your system to keep you quiet.

"Egg extraction was difficult." Stan coughs, blood appearing on his bottom lip. "You killed two nurses and two orderlies. Almost killed Vogelbaum."

"I should have." You spit savagely. "If he was here, I would make him suffer. How could you do that? How could you do something so inhuman-"

Your body doesn't feel like your own, your skin is too tight, your next breath catching in your lungs, and a shudder of absolute disgust shakes through your bones. You feel the urge to throw up, to expel whatever images you can, to purge yourself because it meant they had been inside you, touched you, defiled you in a way that they believed was justified. Disgust, shame, horror and pure uninhibited rage shift along your skin in waves crackling in the air around your body. Everything you know is a lie. Everything that you thought you knew about the past nothing more than shades of gray.

"In the name of science there is no boundary, no limit that cannot be surpassed." Stan tries to smile, but it comes off as a grimace and as soon as he opens his mouth, his entire front row of top teeth rip from his mouth and land on the glass table, flecking blood over the surface.

Stan sputters, choking on the blood, eyes widening in pain, but he continues, his voice sticking around the holes where his teeth once were. “Vogelbaum tried to tell you that night. Tried to get you to come to the lab but you refused. He wanted the subject to have a mother, a figure that he respected, a way of reigning him in-"

"You have taken everything from him!" You snarl grabbing Stan by the throat, raising him to your face. "You have denied him the right of family. You made him into something inhuman something unrecognizable-"

"We didn't do anything." Stan cannot hold on to your wrist, tries to raise his ruined hands to place them against you skin, but they only slide off leaving smears of his blood against your flesh. "You chose this. You did this to him. You denied him a mother. We tried to allow you into his life and you refused."

"Don't you dare turn this on me. What you did to my son is not my fault. You turned him into a monster because you wanted a puppet, a weapon you could control. What Homelander became is all you and Vogelbaum. It has nothing to do with me." You throw Stan back against the opposite wall. "You made damn sure of that."

He lands in a heap, tries to rise to his feet, but the ruined stumps no longer work so he props himself up against the wall,  taking shallow breaths, blood trickles down the corner of his mouth.

But Stan doesn't stay on the floor long, you raise him up, his body glowing again bright purple as he slams back into the wall, arms outstretched, legs hanging limply beneath him as he gasps for breath.

"When Butcher's wife had her son, Vogelbaum was happy he got another chance. Happy that Ryan had a mother figure to rely on, but Ryan has not turned out anywhere near as powerful as your daughter.”

Your jaw tightens as you tilt your head, fear breaking through the rage and numbness that has begun to build beneath everything else.

"What did you just say?"

"It took us years to find her, but as soon as I saw her at the art show ten years ago I knew. She's the spitting image of Ben. So we put things in motion."

"What things?" You snarl, tightening your grip on his chest so tightly that you hear the cracking of his ribs.

"Her ability to keep powers for 24 hours is unmatched. She’s almost indestructible. Almost as indestructible as you. She was so helpful in our development of our Temp V.” He exhales in one breath sharply, wincing in pain.

"What?" Shock grips you tight, holding you in place.

They used Rosemary for that? For the shit that Hughie and Butcher shoot up?

"The scientists at Vought couldn't figure out a way to temporarily give someone powers." Stan gasps. "But her blood was just what we needed to understand it."

"You took her blood?" You roar, the furniture in the room flipping back towards the door, crashing against the walls.

"She gave it to us. When I approached her she was adamant about not telling you. You were so against being a hero again and having her do anything connected to Vought.” He smiles around the holes in his mouth. "She agreed to help us if it meant leaving you alone. But-" Stan swallows again, gasping out another breath that sounds like a wheeze. "We were always watching. Always have been watching. There is no where you can escape us, no where you can go to get away from us. You think you're free?" Blood trickles over his dark lips and down his chin, but he continues to smile. "You never will be. And when your granddaughter finally develops her powers, she won't be either. Vought is already prepared for her, nothing can stop it."

Your face hardens at his mention of Lou, anger flaring deep in your soul, rational part of your mind no longer in control. There was no semblance of the control you were so proud of left.

You didn't know who you were anymore. All you knew was that this man had taken something from you, stripped you of what you were so long ago, and he would pay. Because you'd be damned if he was going to take Lou away too. If he really had already gotten to Rosemary, you'd failed her, but you wouldn't fail Lou.

You take in a breath, but the cold numbness is quickly coming to pick away at the heat of your rage, filling your chest cavity. "You've always been a snake, slithering your way to the top, choking the other people who challenged you, slimy, pathetic. You were afraid of Ben all those years. Cowered in the fucking shadows from his rage, afraid to speak, afraid that he would be your end. You were wrong Stan. You should have feared me instead. Because I am the end of you."

"Y/n please-"

But his next words are lost in the blood curdling scream that rips from his throat as his body begins to cave in on itself, the snapping of bone and the smell of blood filling the room as his limbs flatten and shrink into his body, ribcage caves in to his torso, his head crunching down into his neck until the thing that was Stan Edgar is nothing more than a soccer ball sized lump of flesh and ground bone, dropping to the ground with a sickening wet thud.

The flames lick at the walls behind you, steadily curving around the room as you stand there. Stan's blood is soaked into your hair, dripping down your cheeks, but the heady copper smell is obscured by the smoke that floods the room.

Despite it all you can't hear the sound of the flames, can't hear the sounds of the city below, can't feel the heat of the fire, can't feel the stickiness of the blood as it coats your cheeks. There's a buzzing your ears, that comes after Stan's death. An uncontrollable shudder shakes your body as you stand there in the ruined room, the cold feeling unfurling from the center of your chest like the petals of a flower. You can't feel anything, not rage, not shame, and definitely not remorse.

Because everything you know is a lie, everything you knew about Homelander, and now everything you knew about Rosemary. And if she hid that from you, what else had she lied about?

A/N: I did try to warn y'all. This chapter was a lot, and completely out of my comfort zone and I really miss writing the happy fluff 😭. But this chapter had to be done. And honestly… the reader's Homelander is showing. Somethings I think he may have inherited even though he was kept apart from her.

If you'd like to read something a little happier please try my series:

Take A Chance On Me

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[xomakara]

The Price of Loyalty

SUMMARY |  You lead a double life as an executive at the Lee Group and a Butterfly Syndicate member who must infiltrate the Brotherhood of Ateez as a stripper. As feelings for Yunho and Jongho developes, and your father's truth emerges, will you remain loyal to the Butterfly Syndicate or choose a different path?

PAIRINGS | Yunho x Reader x Jongho

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

GENRE |  smut, angst, drama, Mafia AU, mafiamember!Yunho, mafiamember!Jongho, enemies to lovers

CONTENT/WARNINGS | mentions of violence/death (as goes all mafia au fics), drinking, mentions of smoking, mafia hits, betrayal, undercover agent, threesome, profanity/strong language, filthy dirty thoughts, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), oral sex (both receiving/giving), fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, vaginal and anal penetration

LENGTH | 13,009 words

TAGLIST |  @lovetaroandtaemin @yoonguurt

NETWORKS |  @illusionnet @cromernet @wonderlandnet @k-vanity @othersideoutlawsnetwork @ksmutsociety

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  Soooooooo… I'm trying something new lol. I'm starting a Mafiateez series and this is the first fic in the series! The other fics in the series will have the other members as main characters and each fic will tie together. The last fic will be the conclusion of the whole drama I have unfolding in my head.

Join the taglist here to be notified when I release the other fics of the series. Please be aware that this is Mature/18+ series. MDNI or you will be blocked (I will be checking)

Thank you @lovetaroandtaemin for beta-reading this! I'm glad you're invested and can't wait to read the rest of the series as they come out haha. And thank you @hobeemin for the lovely banner and the divider. As always, you never disappoint me! Please like, comment, reblog. I love you all 💚

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ATEEZ Main Masterlist

“Byeol,” one of the girls called out as she peeked her head from the door of the dressing room. “Your regulars are here.”

At the sound of your stage name being called out, you looked up from your phone. “Okay, tell them I’ll be right out.”

The girl nodded her head, slamming the door behind her. You sighed, looking back down at your phone and typing out a reply before placing it in your purse. You stood up, checked your hair one last time in the mirror, and walked out of the room and towards the booth where your regulars waited for you every Friday night.

You waved at them when they glanced in your direction, giving them a flirty smile, and they both smirked, a smirk that told you this was going to be another good night for tips. You strutted towards them, watching how the regulars’ gazes followed your movements.

“Hello boys,” you greeted them once you had walked up to their booth. “I missed you both.”

Yunho let out a small laugh as Jongho shook his head, rolling his eyes at how silly you were being. The two of them have been a staple at the club for quite some time now and have been your major clients for about a year now. They came every Friday and it was guaranteed that they’d request your company.

“Sit with us, Byeol,” Yunho said.

You climbed onto the long seat, seating yourself between the two. When Jongho offered his hand, you placed yours in it, as he brushed his lips against the back of your knuckles. Yunho grasped your chin and pulled your face closer, capturing your lips in a deep, demanding kiss. It was nothing unusual, so you let it happen. They have paid for you for the entire night and that meant there were certain liberties they could take, certain acts they could do without any type of repercussions since they were part of the Brotherhood.

You were their favorite because you knew what they liked, what their fantasies were, and didn’t shy away from fulfilling their needs. Their desires.

You were no stranger to playing the part, but these guys... most of the girls steered clear away from them since they were members of the Brotherhood of Ateez, an elitist criminal group that controlled much of the underground and ruled with a harsh hand. Not to mention that they both possessed an intimidating air about them—something that only you seemed to ignore. You weren’t scared of anything that they had told you or could offer, and they found themselves strangely infatuated with you.

But they didn’t know that you ran the same circles.

With you, it was all part of an act. A carefully constructed narrative, a fake performance.

The owner of the strip club happened to be a powerful member of the Butterfly Syndicate, the Black Butterfly, your boss. She had placed you in the club once she found out that members of the Brotherhood of Shadows spent many a Friday and Saturday nights there, just to have a taste of some of the finest women their money could buy. And when she found out that Yunho and Jongho, two of the top members of the Brotherhood, had specifically taken a liking to you... she knew that you were the right girl for this job.

Get to know them. Get close to them, the boss had instructed you before she sent you on your way. Find out their secrets. Learn as much as you could, then bring that information to her. The boss’ ultimate plan was to end the Brotherhood’s hold over the underground. To weaken them through their leader—and get him to where the boss would swoop in to claim everything they had and possibly add it to her growing empire.

It had been almost a year since you had been tasked with the assignment. Over six months of careful flirting and flattering. And each week, you gained some sort of small tidbit that you would share with the boss, passing the info on to her. As one of the top tier members of your own syndicate, you reported directly to her, giving her the best details and intel whenever you were around the members of the Brotherhood. You tried to stay focused and give the family what it needed and nothing else—especially since you had an assignment to complete.

But still... the late nights had begun to get to you. You couldn’t stop the way your body had started to react whenever you were around them, nor how your heart skipped beats whenever Jongho brushed the pads of his fingers along the base of your spine or the way Yunho looked at you, almost like he wanted to devour you—which you could admit to yourself was a turn on.

But these men didn’t know anything about your life outside the club. Outside the realm of what they assumed was a stripper named Byeol, trying to earn some extra tips on the weekend by entertaining a couple of rich, dark, handsome men. Nothing deeper than that. No clues of the dangerous girl you really were.

A member of the rival crime family who operated out in the northern parts of the city—the main enemy of the Brotherhood, which was founded in the heart of the metropolis. The two groups didn’t mix and if Yunho and Jongho were to find out exactly who you were, it would be disastrous.

For everyone.

But at that moment, you decided not to think about anything except pleasing these two men. If you were to focus on the bigger picture, you may lose sight of what your actual job was supposed to be. Gathering intelligence and collecting info about the leader of the Brotherhood so they could use that information in a strategic takeover of the entire operation. You were ordered not to show your vicious side unless the situation really called for it. So, for now, you would just let yourself enjoy this night with them.

Because, for better or for worse, you had also grown fond of them. The lines had started to blur after a while—or had started to get so faded that you weren’t sure you could easily tell where they were anymore.

You broke the kiss and looked over at Jongho as you let him cup your cheek, brushing his thumb along the smooth surface as his dark brown eyes scanned your face. The deep rumble of laughter coming from Yunho shook you from the trance and your gaze jumped to his face. He lifted the glass in front of him and pressed it to your lips, gesturing for you to take a sip from his drink. You obliged.

The alcohol was bitter as it travelled down your throat, burning the entire way through, and you made a small face in response. Jongho chuckled quietly, tracing his thumb along the shell of your ear before taking hold of your hand again and planting kisses along each knuckle.

“You really missed us, Byeol?” He asked, his breath hot as it washed over the inside of your wrist.

“Of course I did,” you responded sweetly. “Missed your touches.”

You cuddled up against him, your hand brushing along his abdomen, slipping up underneath his shirt. You placed your lips close to his ear. “Missed seeing your cock and having my pussy stuffed full with it.”

“F-Fuck,” he gasped, turning his head in your direction, attempting to press his lips to yours.

You moved your head back slightly, giving him a seductive smirk, knowing that he loved it when you gave him a hard time. When you teased him a bit. Then you placed a chaste kiss on his pouty lips. You shifted away from him, standing up and swinging your hips as you walked over to the small table of beverages the servers always left for the booths. Pouring a glass full of amber liquid and shooting a glance at him over your shoulder. He smirked at you.

Sitting back down, you pressed the glass of liquid to his lips, and Jongho drank the beverage while keeping his stare locked on you. When he finished the drink, he grabbed the glass out of your hand and set it off to the side. You giggled as you placed a quick kiss on his forehead and another on the corner of his mouth before turning your attention to Yunho and getting into his lap, straddling him.

Your dress rode up your thighs as you wrapped your legs around his waist and leaned back.

“Hi, Yunho,” you whispered as he threaded his fingers into the thick strands of your hair.

“Byeol,” he uttered quietly as he leaned his head forward. He pressed soft kisses along your collarbone, the light touches making your body heat up and tingle. He nipped at the soft skin and a quiet gasp fell from your lips. “I hope you didn’t have anyone else planned for the rest of tonight.”

Shaking your head, you ran a hand through your hair. “Just you two.”

He chuckled, pulling your hips towards him as he slid down in the seat. “Perfect.”

“Should we go now?” you suggested, smirking at him. You stretched your arms over your head, knowing full well how the curve of your breasts showed in this position. “Maybe get a room somewhere...” you trailed off as his fingers ran up the sides of your legs, “or not.”

Yunho smiled and leaned over, placing a brief kiss on your lips. “Don’t get impatient. We still have the entire night, remember? And I definitely intend on making the most of our time together.”

“Plus, we know you’re used to long, difficult nights, Byeol,” Jongho teased as he pressed up against you. “We wouldn’t want to wear you out.”

Your jaw dropped a little, and you chuckled lightly.

“I can assure you,” you paused, pushing your lower body closer to his crotch, “that neither one of you can wear me out. But we should go. It would be much more fun... if we had some... privacy.”

You accentuated that last part by running your palm against the hardened outline of Yunho’s cock.

He inhaled sharply, groaning loudly before shoving a palm in his face and tilting his head backwards. Jongho bursted out into laughter beside you. You were now biting your bottom lip to contain your smile. Yunho slowly lifted his head back up. “What are we waiting for, Byeol? Jongho, make the payment so we can get the fuck out of here and finally have you all to ourselves.”

“Go get dressed and grab your stuff, Byeol,” he ordered while pressing one last, lingering kiss to your lips. You slid off his lap and exited the private booth area. The two men watched your retreating form with mischievous glances.

When you were far enough away from them and back in the dressing room, you whipped out your phone from your bag. Pressing a button, you brought the phone to your ear.

“Who are you calling, Y/N?” one girl that worked with you asked.

“Just my sister,” you said as the call went through. “Hey unnie, I’m gonna have a busy night, so I probably won’t make it home for a couple hours. Don’t wait for me.”

You made a show of biting down onto your lip and shaking your head as your “older sister” spoke to you. After watching the girl leave so that she could give you some privacy, you immediately let the mask that you had displayed for the outside fall and a scowl settled on your face.

“The usual tonight. I’ll report in more detail when I’m done with them,” you whispered. The other person on the other end of the line let out a laugh and spoke one last thing. You nodded. “Yes, Ma’am.”

With that, the call disconnected.

Getting dressed in casual clothes, you slung your bag onto your back and rushed out of the room. The boys were outside, waiting next to the door for you. Jongho tossed his arm around your shoulders and led you through the doors and towards his car. Yunho’s hand landed low on your back, almost grabbing at the swell of your ass as he got into the vehicle as well.

It took about fifteen minutes for the guys to arrive at the hotel they typically stayed in. They usually rented one of the penthouse suites at the building located downtown, a luxurious five star establishment. However, that didn’t stop you from noting how each guy slipped a small weapon onto their person before they climbed out of the car. The men would tell you it was for their own protection, but the reality of the matter was that they had a constant target painted on their backs. With the constant threat of attack hanging over their heads, there were several assassination attempts made on their lives. You would have been ordered to end their existence and to strike them down, but you had the other assignment from the boss. You wouldn’t fail her.

The night would likely end as the nights with them previously had. With the three of you spread across the large king-size mattress in a sweaty, heaping tangle of limbs, the both of them spilling their cum inside and all over your tight, warm pussy. Or your swollen lips wrapped around the length of Yunho’s hard member until he was gasping for release, pouring his cum straight down the back of your throat as Jongho fucked you from behind. They’d do the same to you, having you come so much your thighs would shake. Their names fall out from your lips with the mantra of the filthiest curses and other words.

It wouldn’t be the first time you woke up feeling absolutely sore in the best way. And as they carried you out of their hotel room, leaving some wads of cash sitting on a table, they would certainly pay for all of those indulgent pleasures once again.

“So?”

You stood rigidly in front of your boss, hands clasped behind you as you kept your attention straight ahead. Your boss, the Black Butterfly, didn’t look like a ruthless crime lord that ran her empire out from underneath the radar. To everyone that looked upon her, she seemed to be a very caring and gracious young lady—almost the complete opposite of who she truly was. However, it was for those exact reasons why she was so successful. The double life allowed her to slip beneath people’s radars—especially from the police. She was one of the city’s most powerful figures and you admired and respected the hell out of her for that fact alone.

“Apart from your usual debauchery,” she said as she let out an airy laugh, “what did those idiots reveal to you this week?”

“Most of it was small talk. Just catching up and normal pillow talk. Talking about the usual places, some events they had to attend.” You crossed your arms over your chest, brow furrowing at the frustration that threatened to rear its head. “But there was something of interest.”

“Yes?” The Black Butterfly folded her hands together and tilted her head. She encouraged you to continue.

“Some sort of code about business they had in Japan,” you shared as you paced back and forth. “Didn’t catch the whole thing, but it has something to do with shipments being rerouted. Whatever these shipments are, they’re something extremely important.”

“Find out more.” Your boss chewed her bottom lip, her nose scrunched up slightly. “If they are planning on switching routes, we need to intercept those shipments. Just make sure you find out as much information as you can. I don’t care if you have to fuck them dry, but get that info.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you acknowledged. You spun on your heel, making to exit the room.

“Y/N,” she said, a playful smirk on her face. She rested an elbow on the desk.

“Yes?” you asked.

“You must admit. They aren’t bad looking,” she pointed out. “Kind of funny, the irony. You fucking your sworn enemies and they don’t even know it.”

Shrugging, you laughed a little. “Their cocks aren’t the worst things in the world. Doesn’t hurt to have some fun on the job.”

A look of satisfaction flashed in your boss’ eyes. “As long as the fun doesn’t distract you.”

“It never does,” you said firmly. 

“And Y/N? Make sure your corporation is taken well care of,” she added on as an afterthought. Her tone was harsh and held a clear warning for you. “No mistakes, nothing suspicious. Don’t make the same mistake as your father.”

“Of course not, ma’am.” You kept your tone even, with no indication of any faltering. As a family of high-profile criminals, nothing could be traced back to your real identity, no connections or loose ends left unchecked. “No suspicions will arise. That I promise you.”

She smiled as you walked away. You quickly stepped through a door and were immediately greeted by a rush of chilly air as it blasted into the office building, making your bare arms erupt with goosebumps. As you rounded the corner, you saw a figure leaning against the brick wall. The only other occupant outside this late in the evening was smoking a cigarette, the red tip lit up as the man breathed in.

You turned on your heel, grabbing the metal railing and descending the cement stairs and ignoring the eyes that watched you walk away from him. The sounds of your heels clicking against the surface grew quieter the further you moved away and eventually became muffled, almost becoming engulfed in the noise from the city streets surrounding the office complex.

“Another successful night?” The man asked, walking alongside you as you strode down the alleyway. You both knew the path to the car like the back of your hand; your route was so ingrained into your brains, it almost came as natural as the blood coursing through your veins.

“Not any different from usual,” you replied.

“I bet,” he joked, snickering to himself. “You didn’t come home at all last night.”

You raised your arm and gave your twin brother the middle finger. “Fuck off, Jeno.”

Jeno laughed louder, his head thrown back, shaking it lightly. He held a hand over his chest as he bent forward. “I can’t worry about my twin sister? Especially since you didn’t come back to the apartment until a few hours ago.”

Rolling your eyes, you made a left and headed further into the streets where you had parked. Your brother caught up to you, throwing his arm around you. The scent of the smoke clinging to him invaded your nose.

“Seriously, Y/N,” he said.

“I said,” you stopped in your tracks and looked at him, “it’s fine. There’s nothing you need to worry about. Trust me. I’m a big girl now. I can take care of myself. Plus, you know I can’t disobey direct orders.”

Jeno raised a brow. “It’s only because I respect that woman and what she has accomplished that I don’t say some shit about her and your current assignments. Because we both know the amount of time you spend between Yunho and Jongho’s legs, you’re bound to fall in love with one of them, and you know we can’t have that.”

“You don’t think I know that, Jeno?” You asked, crossing your arms and pushing him back. “If the boss is ordering me to sleep with someone and collect intel from them, then damn right I’m doing that. We’ve been through fucked up shit because of dad and after he was murdered...”

You trailed off, memories flashing across your brain. The scene you came across was ingrained in your mind.

When you both discovered his corpse, murdered, it was a day that changed you forever. It was a turning point — the catalyst. The blood and the mess that soaked the floor underneath his body... the deadness and emptiness of his eyes as they stared right up at you and your twin brother. If not for that day, you never would’ve become the stone-cold killer that you are now. Never would’ve tasted blood and pain how you had.

Never would have taken this spot in the Butterfly Syndicate, ascending to become one of the higher-ranking members that the Black Butterfly trusts with most of her assignments.

“Still,” you continued, bringing yourself out of those dark moments, “We’re only still doing all of this for him.”

“Yea,” he whispered, blinking several times before his attention fell to the ground, his hair covering his eyes. “You know dad wouldn’t have wanted us to fall in his footsteps. He always wanted us to lead normal lives and not carry all of this baggage. What do you think he would have said? Seeing us both in the middle of all of this?”

“He wouldn’t have approved,” you admitted. “We were his little babies.”

“I know that we took over the family business,” Jeno sighed as he mentioned the family business. “People would have a field day if they knew the Lee Group was a part of the Butterfly Syndicate. After all the times we were a neutral party…”

Lee Group—the major corporation run and operated out of the heart of the city — was known for being a leader within the technology and medical supply industries and for making headlines because of their incredible charity works. By day, you were the Executive Director, handling the administration aspect of the business.

However, by night... your name was something else altogether. Your day job, working with the corporation, was to ensure that the lines did not cross and that your underground affairs did not affect the legitimate business dealings of the corporation. It was also to give you both an alibi. At first, both you and Jeno had protested being included in the company, claiming that your father wanted nothing to do with the two of you having the same life that he had—constantly walking a thin line and carrying such a heavy burden. But when your father was murdered, it was clear what choice you both had to make. You would just honor his wishes and build upon everything that he had left behind—protect your family’s legacy with everything you had in you.

Even if it meant becoming a tool for the Butterfly Syndicate.

A heavy silence fell over both of you as you tried to steer your thoughts away from that memory. Turning back around, you walked a couple of steps down the road. But something stopped you.

“Hey, Y/N,” your brother said quietly from behind.

You halted mid-step, foot paused just before it connected with the ground. You turned your body slightly.

“Have you ever thought of... I mean, about your situation. With the boys?” Jeno brought his palm to the back of his neck. He rubbed it gently. “Is there any chance it’s starting to become something more? That you actually want to be with them, outside of what your assignment requires?”

“No. I... No. There isn’t. I can’t,” your voice faltered, trailing off and falling to the wind, becoming lost in the sounds of the city streets. You clenched your jaw tightly, flexing the muscles there, and tensing. Taking in a deep breath, you focused. “Who they spend the night with is Byeol, a stripper. Not me. Those guys aren’t with Y/N.”

“Besides, who’d want me when they find out the shit that I’ve done? Who’d want Y/N?” you laughed humorlessly. The tone was dripping with bitterness, every word drenched in a bitterness that only you and your brother recognized. “She’s not the one to be with.”

You whipped back around, continuing the walk, pulling the keys out and unlocking the door. Throwing the vehicle into gear and backing out, you took off towards home and hopefully a night free of the events that happened just minutes before.

Once you arrived at your apartment and settled down for the night, a text arrived on your phone. Lifting the device, a notification lit up the screen with a bright light. Your eyes scanned the text and the images attached. You let the phone drop onto the surface next to the bed with a thud and rolled over.

You should have expected that to show up. After all, these texts often did arrive unannounced. Sometimes, only on the days after you had seen the guys. Pictures and videos of the guys and you that you’ve taken throughout your sexual exploits.

This message was just a video. When the device came back on the screen, an image of you on your knees with a mouth full of dick popped up on the display. The moans that followed from the video were ones that you recalled: you begging and pleading for Yunho or Jongho to just fuck you senseless. A muffled sigh came from your own lips as you recalled the many times the two of them have fucked you hard. Fucked you raw and filled you until your stomach was swollen and a sloppy mixture of their seed dribbled out of your hole.

Rolling over again, you buried your face in your pillow. Letting your eyes flutter close, the weight of the fatigue that had lingered on your shoulders pulled you down and you drifted into the first deep sleep that you’d have in months.

It was going to be a few days until you saw them again and your schedule for the rest of this week was packed with assignments for the syndicate. Maybe, just maybe, these three days would be enough for the aching feeling between your thighs to dull just a bit.

Little did you know—it never did.

“You finished counting that batch up? It’s almost time for our meeting with the group,” Yunho announced from behind Jongho.

Jongho stretched, rolling his head and letting out a satisfying moan when his joints popped in place. Glancing to the side, his eyes fell onto Yunho as his friend straightened the sleeves to his dark jacket. The other guy was running a hand through his hair, eyes staring directly at him. His large fingers were carefully fastening the button and clasp, keeping the clothing on and preventing it from coming loose during their exchange.

“Yea,” the younger man said with a smile, his lips turning up in a wicked smile. “Count’s right, just like every other shipment. Remind me to tell San that I’m not doing the counts anymore. I’m a consigliere, not a counter.”

“I feel you. I’m the lieutenant. I’m too important to waste my time like that,” Yunho exhaled a deep breath. He reached for the half drunk bottle of amber liquid beside him and poured the remaining alcohol in the glass, shooting a generous amount of the golden, fiery liquid. Once the container was empty, he set the glass aside and wandered closer to where his friend sat, an arm thrown behind him on the couch. “Can’t wait until this week is over. All the business and meetings are driving me nuts.”

“Really now?” Jongho asked.

“The only thing that’ll make it better is Byeol on my lap when we’re done,” Yunho whispered, a grin spreading across his cheeks. He wiggled his eyebrows and the man across the couch shook his head. “Just a few more days. Can’t wait. That video you took was so hot. Just like all the other ones, it drove me fucking wild.”

“Thought you’d enjoy it, hyung,” Jongho quipped, amused. “Considering all the times we fucked her pussy raw and came all over her, the evidence of how much fun we have can only get hotter.”

They walked together, hands clasped behind their heads and fingers laced behind their skulls as they continued their stroll down the corridor. As they reached the main section of the room, the other top members of the organization were there: all wearing either suits or attire fitting of high-ranking gangsters. Yunho and Jongho made their way towards the only chairs vacant at the table.

“Now that Yunho and Jongho are here,” the boss started, fixing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “let’s proceed with the meeting.”

Everyone’s attention shifted to Kim Hongjoong, the boss who ruled over the entire faction. He commanded everyone’s loyalty and if it wasn’t given freely; it was extracted through blood, death, and violence. And those that swore loyalty to him—Hongjoong was someone to be feared and to fear for.

His power over this group allowed the money from their illegal affairs to flow with ease and plenty. Everyone who swore their allegiance reaped the benefits. And to protect the interests and to keep this business going, no expense was spared.

“Next week, the new shipment is going to arrive at a new port,” Hongjoong flipped open a map and gestured to a location marked with a red pin. “After the transaction is complete, the product will be delivered straight to the factories. Production will take place over the next month and when ready, sales can begin to take place.”

Hongjoong looked over at the men. “Seonghwa, any news on the Butterfly Syndicate? What is their movement this week?”

Seonghwa, the deceptively cold-hearted underboss of the Brotherhood of Ateez, stood up and faced the rest of the crew. “I received reports on the activity they have been up to recently. They signed contracts with the Neo Clan and Blue Melodies on some of their trade deals. Seems like they’re trying to secure a foothold in other cities.”

“The arms?” Hongjoong asked a handsome, beefy man across from him.

“Are well stocked,” Wooyoung responded as he leaned back in the chair and cracked a smile. He smiled wider, turning around to face the head of the group, almost a little too excitedly. “And if I do say so, boss, the Butterflies would love to get their hands on it.”

A chorus of laughter rumbled through the table. Several of the people that were gathered leaned against the desk or tapped the surface. One of them reached down for the case of beers by his feet, offering one to everyone present.

Hongjoong motioned to continue the conversation. “Any issues with our operations? Anything we need to take care of?”

“It was slow on the usual drug routes,” Mingi said, “but everything else is smooth. All other trades are solid.”

The discussion continued for a few minutes more. Just about the regular operations of the faction and their enterprise. In total, the group would discuss for a few hours on topics that ranged from the security of the newest weapons on their roster to the details on the business of their trade and finally—the recent rumors about their rival organizations.

“Yunho. Jongho,” San started. He pointed his finger from left to right. “Are ya’ll still seeing that stripper?”

“We are,” Yunho crossed his ankle over the opposite knee and shrugged. He wiggled his eyebrows a bit and threw his arms over the back of his chair. “She’s a feisty one, if you get my meaning.”

“I don’t think I need to know what you guys get up to,” Yeosang had a drink perched against the corner of his lips and took a long, deep pull of the drink before setting it down. “Don’t need all the disgusting, dirty details.”

“Wait till he sees this, though,” Jongho dug into his pants and pulled out his phone, flipping through it until he found the image. He passed it towards his hyung.

“Damn,” Yeosang whistled softly. He handed the cell back to the younger and clapped once, rising from his seat. “But I am curious, you know. This girl... never mind.”

“Spit it out, hyung,” Jongho chirped playfully. The cheeky guy leaned forward and grinned, his pearly whites showing. “We all wanna know.”

“It’s just weird, you know?” Yeosang began. “After you two are with this girl, somehow the Butterfly Syndicate always seems to have an idea of where to locate us.”

“Are you saying,” Jongho moved to his seat slowly, folding his arms over his broad chest, his arms pushing his pectorals tighter together, “this girl has anything to do with it?”

“I’m not saying she’s a snitch,” Yeosang’s voice was steady and firm. He looked over his shoulder before letting out a small whisper. “All I’m saying is they seem to get an idea on how to sniff out the next deal, the next shipment. It seems odd, considering she is just a random strip club dancer and your usual nighttime flings.”

“It’s alright Yeosang,” Hongjoong assured. “She may be a strip club dancer, but she’s more than that.”

“Sir?” Seonghwa asked.

“She’s more than you know,” the boss continued, fixing a black-and-white striped suit sleeve and tightening the cufflink against the fabric. “The question is if she’ll switch sides.”

“I’m lost,” Mingi frowned.

“This stripper is Lee Wooseok’s daughter,” Hongjoong uttered, closing his eyes in an attempt to find the words. “And she’s a high-ranking member of the Butterfly Syndicate.”

“Lee Wooseok? As in the Lee Group?” San asked, Hongjoong nodding his head.

A sudden shift ran through the air. The once tense atmosphere became a void of complete silence and it seemed as if the surrounding time had also stopped moving.

“If that’s the case,” Seonghwa trailed off, “if we can convert her over and gain her loyalties, it would mean the biggest gain. The one they would never expect.”

Wooyoung clicked his tongue. He leaned back against the chair, eyeing the other guys. “Think it could work? If Yunho and Jongho fuck her brain cells away?”

“There’s no need for that,” Hongjoong softly laughed. “Mingi, please go and escort Lee Wooseok to headquarters. I’m sure his children would be more than pleased to see him again.”

Mingi got up from the desk, the scrape of the chair’s legs loud against the flooring. “On it, sir.”

“Yunho. Jongho. Since you have grown close to the woman, I would like for the two of you to help with our discussion.” Hongjoong slowly glanced over his shoulder to the giant mirror in the office.

Behind the looking glass, two sets of eyes were fixed onto him. With a clear throat, he continued to talk to the rest of his men and the orders that needed to be followed.

“What the fuck?” your voice was loud and hysterical. “What the actual fuck!?”

You threw the documents onto the coffee table and grabbed your phone. It felt heavy in your trembling hand and you took in a deep, shaky breath.

Jeno’s footsteps could be heard in the next room over. They thudded against the ground and came running towards you. He peeked in the room, glancing in to see what had you acting all crazy this early in the morning. His face turned into a grimace as he walked closer, catching sight of what you were clutching tightly.

“They know Jeno,” you whispered. “The Brotherhood knows. This was shoved under our front door. Someone slid it underneath the door last night.”

Your twin brother came over and opened the papers. It was a black-and-white photo of you dressed in your business suit and high heels, leaving the Lee Group’s main building in the heart of downtown. Your face was in focus, crystal clear. Not an inch or speck was covered up, providing a full, unobstructed view. And the bold text on the back of the photo read: “Who knew a stripper would be an executive at a legitimate business?”

“I also got this text on my burner phone from Yunho.” You handed your brother the burner you used to keep in contact with the guys. The cell phone screen glowed in the dim lighting and displayed the message.

“Let’s meet up in front of Lee Group’s building at noon.”

“How much do you want to bet it’s an ambush? This doesn’t feel right,” Jeno sighed and raked a hand through his dark, ruffled hair. His voice was hoarse and scratchy, groaning from his sleep. He shrugged. “No other way to know. Just go to the spot and meet them. They won’t do anything in broad daylight and in front of a legitimate business in the heart of downtown.”

“You better be right,” you said as you rose from the couch and made way to your room to get changed and prepare to venture out for the day.

“I will be,” Jeno said.

“Just have our guys stand ready. If shit hits the fan,” your eyes darkened and your stare darkened as the emotion seeping through your tone was chilling and ominous, “do what you need to do. I’ll take the blame for anything if I need to.”

The remainder of the morning consisted of a quick change in clothes, grabbing an early, small snack for the day and rushing over to the destination to meet with the two men. Leaving a little earlier, you planned your route and decided the best and fastest path to take. After arriving at the front doors to the Lee Group’s building, you scanned the area. People walking about their day-to-day lives; their hands busy holding shopping bags or on phones or shoved in their coat pockets. Nothing too unusual or out of place.

No one was suspicious at all.

As you checked the time on your watch, footsteps approaching, muffled and heavy, against the pavement could be heard. You turned and caught the pair of broad shoulders as the owners of the feet appeared from around the corner.

“So this is what our pretty Byeol looks like when she’s dressed and ready for work,” Yunho hummed softly when they stepped right up to the side of you. You felt yourself being watched—scanned over from top to bottom. He even let out an appreciative whistle.

Jongho stretched his lips upwards into a devilishly attractive smile. His mouth fell apart. “Well fuck, babe, if you looked this nice dressed like this every day, I’d come and pick you up to drive you here myself.”

“Please tell me that the two of you didn’t call me out in the middle of my day for your sappy pickup lines,” you deadpanned as you crossed your arms and rolled your eyes. “What do you want?”

“Are we just going to talk in front of your company’s main doors like this?” Yunho asked, scratching the base of his skull, glancing at Jongho. He flicked his wrist in the air, gesturing. “Don’t want any problems or issues.”

“Fine,” you breathed out a deep sigh that you didn’t know that you were holding in. “Try anything funny and I will take both of you out faster than you can even blink.”

“Feisty,” Jongho grinned as he followed you. “Where was this firecracker when we fucked? She never came out during our time in the bedroom.”

You ignored him as you turned on your heel, the sounds of your high heels clicking against the cement as you walked towards the front lobby. Walking into the building, you hear a chorus of greetings from the employees of the company going about their workday. Many people were standing about and chattering excitedly, happy that the weather was looking sunny today and most likely would stay for the remainder of the afternoon.

“Didn’t know that you were a respectable member of society,” Yunho mused, still surveying the facility and observing his environment, letting the information sink in. “Working corporate and dressed to impress. Looks like Byeol has been holding back a lot more secrets than we think.”

The three of you arrived in your office and you closed the blinds. Pulling down the shades on the glass, blocking the view to and from inside, you spun around to face the men, who sat in the two seats in the room.

Jongho looked relaxed. His left leg was swung over his knee and his arms rested behind him, creating a bulging mass of muscle against his frame. Yunho seemed to be a lot less relaxed. He was studying you more closely. Every last facial gesture, expression and twitch were not unnoticed.

“So Byeol, if that is your real name, who are you exactly?” Yunho asked cooly as he narrowed his gaze at you. His jaw was set tight, lips pursed together, pressed hard in a tight line. “From what we can tell, you’re not just some high-class stripper.”

“Why don’t you tell us who you are instead?” Jongho sat straighter as he propped his ankle onto his knee and watched you pace around the office, pausing to stand before a painting or picture on the wall. “Now that we think about it, there are so many things we still haven’t figured out about you.”

“Lee Y/N,” you mutter. “My name is Lee Y/N.”

“Well Y/N, explain all of this,” he gestured towards the scenery behind him. “This life.”

“Why?” You sank into your office chair, staring at him. “So the Brotherhood can kill me just like you did my father?”

“What?” Jongho snapped his head straight, attention turning towards you. “The fuck you talking about?”

“Don’t you guys dare act stupid and pretend you have no idea what I’m talking about,” you growled and scowled at the two. “I’ve known for years about the Brotherhood of Ateez and you know everything about the Lee Group. You had Lee Wooseok, my father, killed!”

“No,” Yunho shook his head. He stated firmly, his eyes shifting over to his friend. Both of them stood up from the chairs. “I would remember if we had a hit on Lee Wooseok.”

“Forgive me for not believing your crap!” You exclaimed. You gripped the armrests of the seat tighter until your knuckles had turned white, digging into the fabric.

“Hold the fuck on,” Jongho pulled out the phone and punched a few keys on the screen. Bringing it up to his ear, he placed a call. His eyes darted up and down the length of the entire space of the room, to the walls, to the ceiling, to your direction. He flipped around and spoke low, just low enough for the other party to understand the context of his request. His eyes settled directly on you as Jongho was quiet, taking in the information on the other end. “I understand. We’ll be there shortly.”

“We are having a discussion tonight with our group about what you’ve said,” he clenched and relaxed his jaw a few times and relaxed the muscles around his neck. “They want you and your brother to join and talk to us as we try to sort everything out.”

“And what if it’s a trap?” You eyed both of them. “If I turn up there, your leader’s number one hitter will have an easy shot and take me out.”

“No one will touch you. You have my word. And his,” Yunho reassured.

You stayed silent for a few beats. Eyes falling shut, you nodded and allowed your pupils to flutter open.

“If anything happens, I’ll wipe you out myself,” you shifted your gaze from the one across from you, over to your current boy toy, nodding firmly. “When and where?”

“Now,” Yunho said as he shifted himself up out of his seat and headed towards the exit. “Tell your brother.”

Although Jeno wanted to beat up the two men that stood beside you, you insisted and told him that it wasn’t the time to engage, not yet, at least. There wasn’t enough proof or information. You both needed to know more, needed to learn as much as you could to piece things together and conclude on your next move.

Upon reaching the Brotherhood’s headquarters, your brother was appraising the surroundings, calculating potential escape routes and thinking up plans in case things became unfavorable. You knew that expression very well: his lips were pressed tight, frowning, and his dark brows were pushed close to each other. He was clearly displeased and upset. You knew he wanted blood, but there was nothing he could do until you gave the go ahead.

“In there,” Yunho said, pushing the heavy oak door leading to the chamber where the rest were waiting.

All eyes were on you. With your brother at your side, your lips pursed tightly and eyes darkened. You straightened up and stepped forward with purposeful strides. No signs of weakness. Not anymore.

“Welcome, Mr. Lee. Miss Lee.” The young head of the organization greeted. Hongjoong glanced at you before standing up and coming over to you, grabbing onto your hand and shaking it firmly. His hand released its hold and gestured for everyone in the room to take their seats. Once everyone reclaimed their spots in their places on the long, hardwood table, the head started. “Don’t worry. No one will touch you here.”

“Look, you can save your pleasantries and get to the point,” Jeno sighed as he leaned back in his chair. “Just explain what is going on.”

“My father and yours were good friends,” Hongjoong continued, leaning forwards to prop his arms on the surface in front of him. “Yes, the Lee Group remained neutral and was a valuable source of intel in our wars and territory. However, your family also has another value, don’t you see?”

Your brother looked at the gang boss questioningly.

“Lee Wooseok was an entrepreneur that loved his family deeply. Very deeply,” Hongjoong elaborated further. The leader’s lips tilted upwards and turned into a small smile. “The old man was someone who truly wanted a safe life for the two of you. He would never have wanted you two to follow the path of his and our lives.”

“What are you...” You started.

Hongjoong continued, nodding at Wooyoung as the rookie moved to grab the file he held tucked under his arm. The brown folder slid across the hardwood table until it rested in your lap. He spoke the words that would change your world. “Your father’s alive.”

Your head lifted up.

“What?” Jeno inquired, a confused expression clouding his features. “But we saw his corpse.”

Hongjoong nodded. “That was a cover-up by us, the Brotherhood. Your father knew that he had a hit on him, so he devised a plan: faking his death and staying hidden, lying in low profile.”

“For the last ten years?” You gasped, fingers grazing the edge of the brown folder. You couldn’t move. No strength in your body remained to flip the front open.

“Yes,” Hongjoong spoke as he took his seat again. His eyes gleamed and danced, something reflecting. “Open the file.”

The papers rustled. There was an image paper-clipped to the corner and the minute your eyes fell upon the visage, your throat tightened, caught in a hard lump as a few droplets formed. The moment you touched them, the tears clung to your fingers, and you swore your heart stopped.

You whispered and breathed, “Dad.”

Your father was still handsome. His hair was greying and strands had streaks of grey in it. And his eyes had aged, those old eyes with crinkles, showcasing his joy, his sorrow. But it was him. Lee Wooseok was truly alive, and it felt as though an enormous weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

It had been ages since you felt this, a warm sensation filling your chest cavity. You had never felt lighter—liberated—from these invisible shackles.

After a quick scan through the photos and reports in the envelope, you flipped the manila folder closed and latched the cover shut. You sighed as your brows furrowed. “When can I meet him?”

“Business first,” Hongjoong said as he watched your reaction closely.

“What kind of business?” Jeno asked, brows knitting.

“You joined the Butterfly Syndicate because they told you that we were the ones behind your father’s death,” Hongjoong explained. “Told you that we were the ones responsible and promised to help get revenge?”

“Yes,” you nodded in affirmation.

“They tricked you. The Butterflies are the ones behind Lee Wooseok’s hit.”

“Wait a minute,” the younger twin furrowed his brows. He was shocked at hearing the words from the leader’s own lips and a cold sweat broke through, coating his skin. “Are you sure it’s the Butterflies that did this? How?”

“Your father can tell you the details when you finally reunite,” the leader stated, voice firm and resolute, leaving little doubt in the statement. “Since you are both high-ranked members of the Butterfly Syndicate, you would have important information and intel on the trade deals and such.”

“So,” your eyes locked into place with his. “You want me to continue working on this and supply you with the necessary intelligence, right? So you can infiltrate the organization? Are you saying that the Lee’s can help the Brotherhood take them down and bring them to its fall? If that’s your goal, I have no issues with it.”

“My father always hated that company, so I hate them even more,” Jeno said, running a hand through his short hair. His arms crossed over his wide chest. “You’ll offer us protection and help? The Butterflies aren’t going to let this go if we defect.”

“Oh we know,” Hongjoong smirked back. “But the Brotherhood can ensure your protection and safety from their wrath. No one will lay a hand on either of you two.”

“Jeno?” You looked at your twin brother.

“Can we...meet our dad first?” He asked carefully as his eyes met yours and flicked towards Hongjoong, questioning. “And after that, we can discuss?”

Hongjoong nodded and, with a small nod, one man got up and stepped out. A few seconds later, a familiar figure filled the room with his presence, strolling in with a grin and twinkling eyes. The moment your eyes landed on the individual, tears began to form again.

“Dad,” you choked out before springing up and crossing the room to leap at him. Tackling him with a hug, you found yourself burying your nose deep into his collar and breathing him in. “Dad!”

Jeno was at your side, piling on with an embrace. His eyes screwed shut and squeezed out the water. Your father clutched the two of you tightly and wrapped you both in a bear hug. The man sniffled before laughing warmly and softly.

“My babies aren’t babies anymore.” He released his hold on the pair of you. Hands coming to cup both of your cheeks, his thumb brushed away the tears clinging to the surfaces of your eyelids. “My children, I missed you so much.”

With your father returned and the reunion complete, all matters were settled and agreed. It would take a few days, but your loyalties had changed to the Brotherhood, and you would supply what they needed.

This meeting ended successfully for both sides, but things could only be set in motion and could not be changed now that the ball had been set in motion.

The Brotherhood had offered you and Jeno places to stay since the Butterfly Syndicate knew where your residence was. In their words, it would be unwise and stupid to return after switching sides, especially with the secrets you now carried. However, with no way and money or anything other than a duffel bag for the both of you, you had no other options. You agreed with Hongjoong’s statements and, for now, would reside in the guest rooms in their house.

One night, Yunho and Jongho invited you to their penthouse suite that they lived in, minutes away from headquarters. Standing at their door, the heat rose from your abdomen and heated your chest as you hesitated before finally gathering enough courage to give the knock and let them know of your presence. Hearing the footsteps, the shuffle of shoes on the tile floor could be heard from the other end, causing your muscles to stiffen as anticipation and nervousness dripped through your veins like thick, poisonous venom.

The lock clicked. Then the knob turned. It gave way as the door cracked and opened up. The tall, broad, dark-haired man appeared in the opening. “Come in,” he said, gesturing for you to enter. You nodded as the greeting and stepped past.

“Get here okay?” Yunho leaned his entire body against the surface of the front entrance. A quizzical expression washed over his face. His arms were folded, his shoulder blades squaring the breadth and strength of his torso.

“Yeah. Seonghwa dropped me off,” you looked around the suite and noticed Jongho gesturing at you to join him on the couch.

“Now sit down,” Jongho settled on the couch and popped open a can of beer, offering you one. You shook your head. “Y/N, you look so fucking stressed right now. Chill.”

“It’s just a lot right now,” you sighed as your shoulders drooped. Head hanging low, eyes cast downward, you could feel his body heat grow as his feet brought his long legs closer and closer towards your form.

“A lot happened and you just need to relax. De-stress,” his hand came to lift your chin.

“He has a point,” Yunho chipped in, standing behind you from your spot on the couch. His long fingers and firm hands danced along the collar of your blouse, flicking open one button and exposing some flesh. The shirt hung slightly off your shoulders, enough to give a small tease.

Your breath hitched. Yunho’s fingers were grazing along the line of your bra strap, running his thumbs across the silky smooth material. A sigh slipped through your lips and a slight shiver rolled from your toes and up, coursing through your legs.

“I know,” your voice came out weak as the heat stirred in the pit of your stomach, heating between your thighs. “It’s just... learning that dad was alive this whole time, being tricked by the Syndicate. I just hate myself so much and feel like an idiot.”

“Yeah. It’s an enormous shock,” Jongho said. “But at least you know the truth and that you got your father back.”

“He’s alive, and he’s well,” Yunho hummed softly. You tilted your head back, making contact with the solid frame of the large, dark-haired guy standing behind you. And fuck was he towering.

Yunho chuckled, placing a passionate kiss onto your neck, trailing them across your collar bones and then diving right back up. He held the column of your throat between his forefinger and his thumb. “So pretty.”

“I do wonder though...” Jongho tucked a strand of hair behind your ears. He tilted your face upwards so he could look directly into your eyes. He peered deeper. “Did you actually enjoy the sex? Was it just part of the job and mission to collect intel on us?”

“Be honest,” Yunho spoke up. He had started moving again. His chest was rising and falling slowly. “Do you have even an ounce of feelings for us?”

“It started out that way,” you bit the inner walls of your cheek and chose your words carefully. “Fucking you for intel... My loyalty to the Butterfly Syndicate was strong. But as the days turned to weeks, the nights continued, the conversations in the bed... they shifted. I really enjoyed talking and more so... just being with you guys.”

You leaned into Jongho’s palm, gazing up into the other man’s face. You pressed a delicate, sincere kiss in the middle of his wide hand. “You two made it impossible to not have any sort of attachment.”

Yunho’s palms skimmed over your thighs, massaging gently. Fingers nimbly toyed, tapping against your muscles. There were tiny sparks firing off, the reaction caused the butterflies that were sleeping in your belly to stir awake. The insects roused, taking flight and they fluttered, wings rapidly flapping.

“Would it ease the guilt and uneasiness that you feel,” Yunho’s expression turned thoughtful as his eyes bore into you, looking into the depths, “if we let you know that the feeling is mutual, sweet girl?”

Jongho caressed your cheek before slipping his arm and wrapped it around your waist. He nuzzled his nose, nipping at your ear lobe. “It’s not the ideal situation for any of us, but regardless, we genuinely liked hanging out and fucking around.”

Jongho tapped his fingertips on your shoulder blades. A few low chuckles escaped him. His next sentence flowed slowly, lingering around you like a faint, heavy fog. “Fuck the Butterfly Syndicate’s plans, yeah?”

Yunho trailed a finger between the valley of your breasts and stopped teasing. A brief smirk showed itself for a split second. His features were relaxed, as if the whole discussion wasn’t about destroying and eliminating entire syndicates and you weren’t the key component to the entire puzzle and destruction.

Yunho’s palm returned to your cheek as his fingers hooked under your chin. His thumb rubbed your lower lip as his voice dropped, quiet, but firm. “Tonight, let’s just forget that we’re anything else. No more underworld agenda. We’re just three people that are enjoying each other’s bodies, right?”

“No expectations,” Jongho whispered, grazing your lip against the pad of his thumb.

“No pretense,” Yunho smirked.

The pair’s hands slipped beneath your clothing and lifted it off. Piece by piece, the material came loose and discarded somewhere in the penthouse suite. Soft pants escaped your lungs. And with a satisfied exhale, Jongho tipped your chin, smothering his lips against yours, the smooth cushions melding against your skin. His tongue ran against the opening, his taste buds swirling the seams. A hand stroked the outline of your neck and cupped the tender surface.

“Let go of every worry that is plaguing your pretty little head tonight, darling,” Yunho whispered softly against the space behind your ear. You whimpered when his mouth parted, sucking and pressing the curve of his full bottom lip. “Leave the world, the fears, the worries, the obligations, the past, everything outside these doors, because right now, sweetheart, it’s just going to be me and Jongho taking care of you. Can you be a good girl for us?”

Another whine slipped from your parted lips and into the space between.

“Yeah. That’s it. Good girl,” the sound of approval rumbled against the flat plain of your back, reverberating as a heat settled in. “Just focus on making yourself feel good.”

A hot mouth connected to your collarbones, mouthing, leaving behind wet imprints and soft trails with a nip. It didn’t take long for it to move and track up your jawline, pressing against the column and taking a few licks along your throat.

Two sets of mouths connected to each section of bare skin and their touch lit a fire under your skin. Two more sets of hands skimmed, fingers pinching, rolling and twirling the hard buds on your nipples. A set of warm, plump lips latched onto one and gave it a harsh suck, a groan escaping as their taste buds rolled it, teasingly nibbling on the sensitive tip.

“Y/N,” Yunho’s masculine voice purred your name like velvet, his warm, calloused palms dancing a trail, a series of tingles being left behind and lingering. “How do you want it? Slow or do you want rough? Or maybe you want both? Yeah, I think you want both. We’re willing to do anything you want.”

Jongho looked straight into your eyes, making eye contact, piercing your soul through with his beautiful dark eyes. “After all, we can give it all to you.”

Dropping his pants, Yunho stood up from the sofa. “Open up for me, pretty girl.”

You did as he instructed and felt the press of the thick head pushing against your lips, waiting. His hands were on either side of your face, thumbs trailing the edges. “Wrap your pretty little lips on my cock and take all of it, darling.”

A hum of arousal and lust slipped between your parted lips as your hands slid across his trim hips. Yunho’s fingers sank into the messy locks as you rolled and flicked your tongue along the hardened head and smoothed the ridge. “Fuck. Yeah.”

He tugged you close, so his erection was deep inside. The thick shaft filled your mouth, pressing against your cheek, gagging. Your head bobbed, the saliva pooling around and staining your mouth. Tongue gliding up the surface as you flattened the muscle.

“I’m going to have you on your knees more often. This view is incredible. Damn. Perfect,” he hissed between his teeth, exhaling a large breath. “Eyes up at me, angel.”

You didn’t even know when Jongho laid on the floor, his face settled under you. Large palms spread across your ass and down your thighs, pulling your center right over his mouth. Lashes flickered as his thick tongue dipped deep. In an instant, you moaned around Yunho.

“Tastes good, doesn’t it, little one?” Yunho asked. You nodded, murmuring an “mmhm” around his cock. “His tongue is amazing, isn’t it? So amazing at working you out, hm?”

Jongho swirled and flicked the slick muscle, finding the swollen nub and latched his mouth, sucking and releasing repeatedly. Another deep groan sounded. It didn’t take long before you squirmed, grinding your pussy on Jongho’s mouth, whimpering around Yunho.

“Ah, so damn delicious,” a smirk crossed Jongho’s lips. “Juicy and so hot, I could eat out this little pussy all night.”

A brush of a finger on your anus and a slippery digit pushed inside as another penetrated your dripping slit.

“Such a pretty cunt,” Jongho sounded amused, and the praise mixed in with the string of vulgar words was enough to light a fire and a wetness under your core.

“God, your noises are fucking exquisite,” Yunho’s palms skated to your face, hooking a few stray strands behind your ears. His thumb toyed with your lower lip and swiped along the corner.“Tell me how you're feeling, sweet girl.”

His cock fell from your lips. You wrapped a hand around the girth and stared up into his brown orbs, blowing a hot, ragged breath. “Good. So damn fucking good.”

“Tell Jongho how it is, angel,” a simple command. “He wants to know.”

“Don’t stop,” you demanded breathlessly. The room was spinning. But you were far from caring. You were rocking against his digits and the motions as your forehead rested on Yunho’s thigh. A roll of a thrust, a quick stretch of his knuckles. “Just fucking make me cum on your lips and your fingers, fucker. Please.”

“Mmmm...yeah. Keep asking nicely like that, pretty girl,” the pads of his digits were curling. There was a chuckle as you heard the sound of his sloppy slurping, followed by a lewd, sloppy smack. “Your cunt is gripping me tight. Come undone already and soak my face, sugar. Stop fighting and cum like the slut that you are.”

“Sweetheart, your mouth,” Yunho cooed softly. “Open it again for me.”

With half lidded, glossed eyes, you met Yunho’s gaze before you obediently did so and received the thick weight back on the hot cavern. He laced the strands between his fingers.

“Ah,” the softest chuckle fell as the corners of his pinkish lips pulled upwards. “Swallow all of it. This is what you deserve for being a good girl. I’ll reward you. Promise.”

Yunho held your chin still, palm resting under it, steadying your movements and the angle and guiding the movements. His own lips parted, grunting at the sensation. Fingers thrusted with a gentle force and curled once again, finding the spongy part and rubbing as the pad flicked.

“Are you about to come undone, sweet girl?” Jongho shushed softly, with a light whisper against the inner parts of your thighs, pressing a kiss there. His face was nuzzling there, dragging his open mouth along your heated skin. “Don’t hold back. I know your pretty little pussy can give me more to drink.”

“Such a good girl.” Yunho thumbed across the sides of your face and caressed it gently. He gripped his shaft and pumped the shaft a couple times. The liquid beading on the head of his cock swirled on the tongue, a deep moan as he tasted himself. “Such a pretty fucking mouth. Take your reward, darling. Every single last drop.”

Hands gripped tightly and tugged on the locks of hair. He held you firmly in place. Cursing, Yunho’s muscles quivered. You massaged the head with the flat surface of your tongue and let the liquid spill and spill inside your hot mouth. You let your tongue caress his length, catching every single drop, all the while Jongho thrusted his hand, curled his fingers and used his mouth and tongue to push you over the edge.

The orgasm rolled through, taking over your body. You held on to Yunho, hands reaching for the exposed parts of his upper body, desperate for stability as your hips bucked erratically, uncontrollably and rode out your high on his hand and lips. Your mind was screaming and your eyes rolled to the back of your skull. There was no other thought process going on except, yes, yes, yes.

Yunho crouched in front of you and caught you as you toppled forward.

“Come on, baby girl,” you whined against the hard surface of his body, “we’re just getting started, sugar. You’re doing good.”

Picking you up, Yunho tossed you easily onto the bed, like you weighed nothing. It wasn’t rough, but it was a motion that said that they were in control. Jongho walked into your peripheral vision, stark naked and looking gorgeous. His body was gorgeous. How someone had the physique, the hard work, and discipline.

A groan ripped from your lips as Jongho climbed onto the sheets beside you and nudged your hips. “Straddle me, sugar. My dick can’t wait anymore and neither can I.”

Your pussy lips grazed the length and his head teased and pressed against your clit as you rotate your hips and rolled your spine. Hands pressed on the planes of Jongho’s hard, sculpted pecs, gripping the rigid muscles. Leaning forward, you put one hand on his stomach to steady yourself and, with the other, you gripped his base and slid down onto the shaft in one quick motion. 

You met his gaze and whispered huskily, “Neither can I.”

Both hands pressed firmly against the abdominal muscles and leaned back. Spine arched, head resting against the mattress, you rode Jongho as Yunho settled himself between your legs behind you.

“Such a nice pussy. The view is perfect,” planting his palm in the center of your chest and over your breast, Yunho captured your lips with his. Nipping the underside of the curve and peppering a few kisses there. Palms groping and kneading the globe as a thumb grazed a pert nipple. “Can you take me too, sweet thing? Let me fill your ass as you ride our boy here?”

“Yes please, sir.” Your mind was dazed and in pure ecstasy. And Yunho took care to make you feel good.

Yunho shifted your weight until you were face down into Jongho’s neck and shoulder, Jongho’s muscled arms wrapping protectively around you. “You’re going to need to hang onto Jongho, doll. You’re going to need him while I fill that beautiful ass.” His fingertip trailed a line starting from the space right below your neck and to where the spine ended.

Your pelvis ground onto Jongho’s as his hands cradled you and held you tight to his body. It wasn’t as if you had never had anal sex before with the two of them. No, not at all. You had done it plenty of times, more so with Jongho since Yunho was well, packing some size and there was only so much you could handle.

It didn’t take long before you heard the lid click and the bottle pop open. You felt the lube drip, cool and slick, between your round ass cheeks and down the valley to where both men were filling your openings. Yunho took his sweet, slow, torturous time, teasing you with the head of his cock, parting and spreading the cheeks and running the length between. You turned your head slightly to watch him over your shoulder and sighed in relief and content when his girth finally penetrated your walls.

With one palm gripping your waist, fingers splayed, Yunho guided his thick cock further. With the other hand, he soothed a firm hand up your back, the weight feeling relaxing and calming your nerves, reassuring that you were okay. The curve of his body dipped down, allowing his mouth to reach and capture your lips, sucking, nibbling.

“Fuck, baby. Your ass takes me so well, damn it,” he breathed, tugging your hair, releasing, letting it fall as his teeth caught his full bottom lip. “Gonna fill you so much until your body can’t handle it anymore.”

“So full...” Your face burrowed in the space between Jongho’s shoulders, against the dip as his own neck. Your palms pressed against his chest, fingertips grasping at his warm, sweaty skin. “Need a second...to adjust.”

“We gotcha, sweetheart,” Yunho placed a gentle kiss along your spine, not moving yet. He helped the angle by keeping you bent over Jongho. “Relax. We’re right here.”

You felt the slight burning and fullness. Once the stretching was complete, you were okay. Lifting your lower half up, the movement caused your pussy to slide onto Jongho, and that immediately did the trick. Once it started, Yunho filled your asshole up completely.

The action made the men groan at the feeling. Their pleasure at having both your holes filled was evident.

“Move, move, move,” you breathed roughly, clawing Jongho’s pectoral muscles as you reached your mouth up to find his and a tongue quickly found entrance. They found their rhythm. The sound of slaps and sticky, squishy sounds filled the air.

“Atta girl,” Yunho mumbled a mixture of praise. He grunted and fisted a clump of your hair, tugging your face back until your chest arched out. “Yeah, this is what you wanted, is it? Talk to us, pretty girl.”

“Love having you guys stuffing me,” you gasped when Yunho pumped in, forcing your back to arch even more. A stream of whimpers were heard, almost like a song playing repeatedly. The friction was just too damn delicious. “Both of you are stretching and fucking me. Please. I’m yours. Both of you.”

The praise continued, getting louder and dirty.

“I need you guys to keep pounding into me,” you were chanting like a mantra. “Wreck my pretty holes. Pound me as I cum on your fat, massive cocks.”

“And we love giving it to you, angel. Filling you with us until you’re spilling all over,” Yunho mumbled his words directly at the shell of your ear. “Over and over. Until we fill up every single damn part.”

Jongho was meeting your hips, pumping at the same pace and speed as Yunho. There was no room to slide in between the pair. The pair was stuffed into both of your crevices and hitting all the right spots that drove you mad; the tingling became a raging heat.

“Close,” a muffled noise fell, breaking from your throat. Your mouth was parted, the lips dried and swollen.

“Be a good girl and come on our cocks,” Jongho pressed a chaste, close mouth peck against your cheek and murmured in a sultry voice. “Soak it, baby. Do it now.”

And you did exactly that.

Your mind turned white with only one name being thought repeatedly, with no other thing being thought about. All you heard were the satisfied groans of the men that were taking their pleasure in your body. Their bodies jerked with their orgasms as both Yunho and Jongho poured everything into your pussy and into your ass.

You swore you saw heaven, bliss, whatever word would describe a paradise or utopia. And fuck, it felt so amazing, so damn glorious. You were in bliss as you felt the warmness from the men. Their lips were tracing lines down your neck as the rest of your body went limp against them. They whispered words of encouragement, whispers of getting married, but it sounded so far away.

Your eyes slipped shut, not sure how many seconds later, maybe a handful, and fell into a deep slumber.

With the combination of sunlight filtering through the sheer drapes and your eyes opening, there was a groan as you attempted to rub the tiredness away with the back of your hand. And regret was the very first thought. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep. You never fell asleep when having sex with the two men. That wasn’t something you’d normally do.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Trying to get up, your body aching from head to toe, you found yourself incapable. Bare and still feeling so sticky, a sheet was tangled around your body as two male forms were under the same piece of material and trapped between their limbs, an arm and a leg secured in their grips.

In a low tone, it was nearly a murmur, but deep and rough, Yunho spoke, pressing a kiss against your exposed, heated collarbones.

“Too sore, baby girl?” You met his brown eyes and bit your lip, nodding slowly, followed by a confirming hum. “Did you sleep well?”

“I... yeah... I guess. Wasn’t supposed to...” you stuttered a little, not quite finishing the sentence and dropping your gaze, embarrassed. “I never fall asleep...”

Yunho gently gripped your chin and gave you a proper good morning kiss on the lips, deepening it slightly before pulling away and ending it. A palm trailed your side and smoothed across the naked skin. “First time for everything, hm?”

Jongho stirred and mumbled groggily from somewhere underneath the blanket and an arm rested right above your breast, “Don’t leave the bed. We’ll do everything. Breakfast, bath, the lot. But stay in bed and rest.”

Your cheeks heated. This was awkward. Normally, the two men wouldn’t want you lingering and getting comfortable because business always called, and they both had an obligation to attend.

“About that,” Yunho mused and shifted onto the mattress. He curled around your form and had you resting your head against his arm, fingers skating patterns and tracing lines against the dip at your waist, drawing invisible lines. “We were going to talk about it.”

“Jongho and I were thinking...” Yunho nudged, glancing towards the young man and began chewing the bottom lip. “That after...”

He was hesitating. You didn’t quite understand why. He wasn’t the type of person to get nervous.

“What happens afterwards?” Yunho asked. “How would you feel, staying in bed, staying the weekend, or the week, and having us... taking care of you?”

Your eyes widened and glanced towards both men. “Are you sure? What would my dad say?”

Jongho gave a low grunt, nuzzling between your shoulders, lifting his head, and peppered a small, fleeting kiss. “Nothing. He would be thrilled that we were giving you whatever you need.”

“I don’t have my clothes. Nothing with me,” your breathing hitched.

“Don’t worry, angel, we have you covered. We’ll get you whatever you want,” Yunho remarked softly. He scooted in closer and intertwined his free hand, his left, with yours. There was a shine, a metal circling on his ring finger. A quick look downwards and Jongho had the same on him, matching the band of gold with his.

Both Yunho and Jongho didn’t have it before. Where did they get these?

Then you noticed the glint on your left ring finger. Gold with small diamonds set in a thin band and a black gem in the middle.

Your head shot right back upward and back and forth between the two men.

Yunho said it the next, a chuckle, soft, genuine, lacing his deep, melodic, soothing tone. “You didn’t say no when we asked you last night.”

You shook your head furiously. You hadn’t even heard. Too caught up in your high. “I wasn’t in... wasn’t in the right state of mind last night.”

“Willing to agree now?” The smile was playful and warm, softening Jongho’s face. The tone was teasing but hopeful. His thumb brushed against the warm, soft skin on your own.

Yunho leaned in closer, warm breath dusting over the surface of your lips, nose dragging across the top of yours, “Not the way we were dreaming of asking you officially.”

“As a married throuple, you’ll have two husbands that will help you fight against the Butterfly Syndicate, sweetheart.” His mouth slid over yours, swallowing a moan, and it was loving, and deep, and all-consuming, making your toes curl into the soft comforter under your bodies. He slowly eased his body weight on top of you as he took over and set a leisure and slow pace of languid strokes. “Husbands to keep you safe, husbands to always satisfy and fulfill any need. Husbands to get back at your enemies.”

Your mouth was still locked against his, Yunho’s tongue licking deep. You pressed your forehead against his temple and his hand slid even lower.

“So what do you say, hm?” Jongho lifted his head slightly to whisper, a glint dancing in the brown pools. “Can we officially call you our wife?”

Widening your eyes, you searched and met the gazes of both men and felt their hands clutching yours, almost scared that you would say no.

How could you say no when their hands and body made you feel like a queen, a woman adored and protected? A soft gasp spilled. How could you say no when their dark, cold eyes promised to bring your vengeance against those that hurt you and your family? You didn’t need to hold back when you were with them and in their care.

“Yes...” You turned and faced each of them. You would do this, together, with them. You swallowed your fears. “Let's get married.”

You were going to fight back. You were done hiding and turning away, hiding in the shadows.