#but i do also want to get through campaign 1

[darth-jess]

Would the Republic and the Jedi have fallen without Anakin’s help?

Honestly, it depends on the scenario and whether or not you’re keeping characters in character. If you change the characters, obviously you’ll get wildly different results.

Palpatine living is the biggest factor so let’s play around with it.

Scenario 1: Anakin helps Mace Windu kill Sidious.

A happy and hopeful version:

Order 66 never gets activated, so obviously that saves the lives of thousands of Jedi. Anakin never becomes Vader, which also saves the lives of hundreds (if not thousands) more Jedi. Bail Organa is elected Chancellor (I’d say Padmé, but she just had two babies and definitely wants a few years of… relative peace and quiet before running for Chancellor) and he swiftly ends the Clone Wars and helps former Separatist systems rebuild. A few CIS systems do not rejoin the Republic, but they make peace.

This happy and hopeful version is great, but let's be honest. Bail Organa is clearly the right man to elect as Chancellor, however when have sentient beings ever elected the right person? Very rarely.

So. A realistic version if Order 66 is still never activated:

Order 66 never gets activated, which saves the lives of thousands of Jedi. Anakin never becomes Vader, which also saves the lives of hundreds/thousands more Jedi. An investigation is done into Chancellor Palpatine’s death, and it turns out he was assassinated by Mace Windu. So what if the Chancellor was a Sith? People are free to practice their own religions, what the Jedi did to him was bigotry! (I’m being sarcastic, I hope you know, but you know the Pro Palpatine News Media would print this and get a lot of people riled up.) Sate Pestage (Palpatine's BFF) runs a fear-mongering campaign and someone very pro-Palpatine is elected the next Chancellor. (The Senators of the Republic literally cheered Palpatine as he declared himself Emperor, you think they wouldn't elect someone very pro-Palpatine to follow him if he was assassinated?) So the pro-Palpatine Chancellor continues the war until Republic forces are exhausted. The Republic collapses, probably through some kind of military coup- though obviously not by clones- and whomever gains power turns the Republic into an Empire to restore some order. Faith in the Jedi is at an all time low (they killed the last Chancellor after all!) and the new Empire moves to remove Jedi from all official business, and they become a group of monks who just do their own thing on non Imperial worlds.

Scenario 2: Anakin and Mace Windu Both Die in the Chancellor's Office.

Palpatine kills both Anakin and Mace Windu somehow. He activates Order 66. Thousands of Jedi across the galaxy are slaughtered by their friends. The 501st legion storms the Jedi Temple, though more Jedi survive and escape because Vader wasn’t there. Palpatine announces that the Jedi tried to assassinate him and overthrow the Republic. To restore peace to the galaxy, he will become Emperor and people cheer for him. Padmé finds out Anakin is dead and loses the will to live, and she dies in childbirth in her apartment on Coruscant or in a medical facility nearby, with Dormé and Typho with her. The children are brought to their grandparents on Naboo. Obi-Wan and Yoda return to the Jedi Temple to stop the message telling all Jedi to return. Palpatine turns the Republic into an Empire and everybody cheers for him. The war carries on, because the Separatist leaders who all went to Mustafar weren’t murdered… unless Palpatine could remote lock the facility and drop it into lava. Palpatine would still have Inquisitors to hunt Jedi, but he’d have to train them himself. The surviving Jedi would fight back, and eventually succeed- probably a bit sooner than 20+ years later because more Jedi would have survived Order 66, but it would probably have still taken them 10 years at least to regroup and rally a rebel movement large enough to destroy the Empire.

My Conclusion

I personally feel like removing Anakin from the picture doesn’t do much to change whether or not the Republic or the Jedi fall. I’ve heard some people say this cheapens the narrative, or it means Anakin's choice didn't matter. But of course it still matters.

It matters that he decided to participate in the destruction, that he chose to destroy himself to try to save Padmé.

Palpatine wanted the Chosen One at his side, the ultimate victory over the Jedi. The one destined to destroy the Sith made to become a Sith himself? Brilliant. (And then much later, disastrous for Palpatine.) Keep your enemies close, right?

Don’t get me wrong, Vader is incredibly useful to Palpatine. But by the time of Revenge of the Sith, Palpatine has done so much damage to the Republic and trapped the Jedi, even Palpatine’s own early death couldn’t have entirely stopped the fall. Things would have happened differently, and slower, but he had dismantled the Republic while everyone was focused on the war.

Idk what do you think? What other scenarios are out there? What do you think is most realistic?

[fifteensjukebox]

today's sierra news is that im accepting that i almost definitely have contamination ocd and ive called my dr who in june said it sounded like anxiety and neither of us brought up ocd despite. i mean. fucking look at this situation it's obvious. anw we discussed referring to ppl for either therapy or meds and i started the process of trying therapy after that but even as early as research and the intake call i just know im one of those introspective bitches who hate that shit bc im already so in my head i don't need someone to tell me what i already know. and i had been against meds too bc i had so many side effects from adhd meds as a kid and birth control for my period more recently. but it's clear that it's hard for me to fix my sleep schedule BECAUSE i spend too much time cleaning myself so. i'll keep trying that but also we know my brain chemicals are fucked so why not give in and t r e a t that.

[maximumzombiecreator]

Since I've had a few people asking about megadungeon stuff recently, and I am an avowed megadungeon megafan, I thought it might be fun to walk through an actual example of megadungeon play that exemplifies what I like best about it.

This post is going to be the first in a series talking about a room from a megadungeon that I ran over 20 years ago (brushing past that fact quickly lest the horrors set in.) It was a major room, probably the most complex and important in the dungeon, and the players passed through it frequently throughout the campaign. In this post I'll introduce you to the room, and then in later posts I'll talk about what it does well and how to use that lesson more generally. Below the cut is a reproduction of the map as I remember it.

Without getting into The Lore too deeply, some dwarves accidentally dug into hell, as one does. Classic trope, nothing wrong with using them. They quite sensibly shut the mine down and sealed if off, but word got out. A human king heard about this, and took over the mine, expanding it into a temple complex to curry favour / barter with hell. It went badly, as such things do.

This concourse connects several wings of the dungeon, spanning several floors. An enormous devil face statue emerges from the northern wall, above the second floor balcony and below the fourth, and a column of light shines through a hole in the ceiling onto the center of the floor. Several floors of balconies overlook the chamber, though the stairs to the fourth floor balcony have long since collapsed.

This chamber was not too far from the main entrance, with the party first encountering it on their second delve into the dungeon, though it would take two more delves for them to gather the courage to enter it. At the time they first encountered it, it was swarming with imps and other little devils worshipping the big face.

I'll summarize the key:

A. Hallway from the Entry Chambers, the first and easiest section of the dungeon.

B. Doorway to the Pilgrim's City.

C. Doorway to the Unholiest of Unholies. Sealed and warded against simple spells.

D. Doorway to the Old Dwarven Quarters.

E. Doorway to the Nobles' Section. Barred from the far side.

F. Portcullis to the Pilgrim's City. The mechanism has rusted out and no longer functions.

G. Doorway to the Halls of the Clergy.

H. Doorway from the King's Inner Sanctum.

I. Doorway to the Archive.

J. Doorway to the King's Inner Sanctum, locked.

K. Doorway to The Indulgences.

Stairway from floor 1 to floor 2.

Light from the hole in the ceiling.

Broken stairs from floor 2 to floor 4.

Big ole devil face. Its eyes are a one-way illusion, allowing anyone within the face to view the room below.

Okay that's a lot, thanks for sticking it out. While I don't want to wander too far off topic into the rest of the dungeon, I'll just briefly note that the Pilgrim's City and Old Dwarven Quarters are easier sections of the dungeon, the Nobles Section and Halls of the Clergy are slightly more difficult, the King's Inner Sanctum, Archive, and Indulgences are very dangerous, and the Unholiest of Unholies is, as one might expect, where the worst things (and best loot) in the dungeon are. This was 2nd edition AD&D, so there was not a presumption of fights being balanced, and traipsing through more dangerous sections of the dungeon at lower levels wasn't uncommon. The players also understood the varying levels of danger fairly implicitly, since the custom at the time was that any time you went a level further away from whatever the ground floor was, things got more dangerous. The only exception to this is the Unholiest of Unholies and I think we can agree that when it's beyond a magically sealed door under a giant devil head the danger is telegraphed.

Next post I'll start talking about what made this room work so well in practice.

[sir3n-s]

Steve knew that one day he wouldn't be able to refuse to play dnd. 

Especially since he was now dating a dragons master or whatever it's called. He can't keep up with all the names. 

And don't get him wrong Eddie is great and dnd sounds sort of interesting but he's been against playing for so long he doesn't want to give up the act. 

But he if was going to give up the act he was going to get something in return. 

The kids were all gathered at Steve's house for a movie night. 

They had 2 different kinds of movie night, one where they all actually watched movies and the other where the movie was just there for background noise while everyone either talked or worked on something.

Tonight Mike, Will, Lucas, and Dustin were making character sheets for Eddie's new campaign while trying to get Steve to join as well. 

"Just play one campaign" Dustin whined for the 20th time that night. And probably the 100th time in his life. 

"Are you ever going to let this go?" 

"No! You have to play one now that you're dating Eddie. Aren't couples supposed to try out each other's hobbies?" He got him there.

"He's got a point Stevie," Eddie says finally engaging in the conversation after being glued to the TV. Despite the volume being low he was still watching it with intense interest. 

"You're right, couples should try each other's hobbies" Steve agreed. 

"Uh oh," Robin says without looking up from the puzzle she was going with Nancy, knowing what he was going to say next since he ran his plan through her first.

"I will play a campaign but!" He says before the kids could get too excited, "you all have to play basketball with me" 

They all groaned. Except Lucas who was completely fine with this arrangement.

-

It was Saturday and they were all at basketball court in the park. Most of them were wearing their gym clothes. 

Except for Lucas and Steve who actually had basketball jerseys. 

Max and el were also playing since they wanted to join despite the fact they won't play dnd either. 

And who was he to say no to them? The more the merrier.

Robin and Nancy were sitting at the bench in the shade, Robin saying she refuses to play a sport because she's too clumsy and Nancy saying Robin shouldn't have to sit alone. But Steve knows they just want to talk shit about them. 

He wasnt going to stop them, he knew it was a lost cause to try to get them to join as well. 

The only rule they had before playing was that Steve and Lucas couldn't be on the same team, 'it wouldn't be fair' Dustin said and everyone else agreed. Even Robin and Nancy. 

So they ended up being the team captainsin on each team. 

Steve's team was Max, Mike, and El while Lucas had Will, Dustin, and Eddie. 

And it was going well! Better than Steve thought it would. Especially with how unathletic most of them were. 

Steves team was winng, and despite Dustin whinning about how it was because Steve was older and had more experience he hasn't even made all the points. 

He did score the first point but El scored the last 2. 

It's was 3 to 1. The only point they had was from Lucas. Eddie couldn't throw for shit, Dustin kept dropping the ball, and Will was actually doing pretty well but was kinda being ignored because Lucas and Dustin wouldn't stop arguing.

He can tell eddie was getting annoyed with having to constantly break up their fights.

Their team only needed one more point to win and Mike had the ball.

"Pass it to me!" He yells towards Mike and he does pass it to him. Just way too hard. 

Because it goes past his hands and right towardd his face. Smacking him hard in the nose and knocking him over. 

He hears everyone gasp as he groans on the ground.

He heard the tapping of people feet on concrete, and on grass, get close to him. 

"Holy fuck are you okay?" Despite his eyes being closed he can easily tell that's Eddie's voice.

"Damn Mike why did you throw it so hard" he hears max says. He also hears a light punch but doesn't comment on it this time.

"I didnt mean to!" 

"I'm okay" Steve says while getting up, grabbing his nose when he felt something on his lip. Blood, of course.

"That would've been a great throw if I was a little bit farther from you," he says towards Mike as Eddie helps him off the floor and leads him to the bench despite saying he was okay to keep playing.

Everyone gather arounds him as El hands him some of the napkins she keeps in her pocket.

"If this is how you all act everytime someone gets hurt it's going to get extremely annoying as we keep playing" Everyone makes weird faces, except for Robin who was grinning.

And Nancy because Robin definitely told her. 

He smiles. "You guys are going to want me to play more than one campaign, so you will all be playing more games of basketball."

While Lucas smiled, everyone else groaned.

[almostempty]

self esteem part 4 - the more you suffer (joel x f!reader)

wc: 12.1k | masterlist | rating: 18+ | read on ao3 |

part 1 ⎯ part 2 ⎯ part 3 ⎯

hey y’all, it’s me back with more farm-to-table Joel smut. Took a while to figure this one out, but I hope you’re hungry horny bc it’s lengthy and full o’ fuckin’.

summary: Date Night Dave is back by popular demand, and fuckboy Joel finally experiences a consequence??? 

warnings/tags: fuckboy!Joel, gratuitous smut, pwp, alcohol use, unprotected piv sex (that has no physical consequences bc it’s fiction and I like it that way), oral sex, public blow job, cock warming in a car, reoccuring guest appearance by dom!dave, date night dave inspo from the cartier campaign bc that's rich dave right??? au/ooc dave york is single/rich/mysterious and down to clown, jealous!joel, soft!joel, cuck!joel, jorkin’!joel, some angsty bits, no use of y/n, voyeur/exhibitionistish, light d/s dynamics, light (?) degradation/humiliation, praise kink, AU modern/no outbreak, overall just a lot of sex with some feelings in between, no beta blame all mistakes on me/adhd/insomnia 

a/n: please leave feedback! Tell me all ur thots! 

thanks: to everyone who has read parts 1-3, that means the world to me 

Dedicated to @gothcsz for the punishment inspo and @auteurdelabre for encouraging my delusions , and @strangergraphics for dividers

All I can fuckin’ think about. 

It’s like it was a curse, not a confession. Joel’s voice plays on a loop in your mind. For days. You hear it when you wake up, against your will. It’s a reflex at this point. You hear it when your mind drifts at work, when Katie blathers on about who knows what on your brunch date, and it gets loudest at night when you can’t sleep. It repeats and repeats and repeats. Taunting you, describing you, mocking you. Leading you on. 

Occasionally, you play the tape all the way through. Finishing the rest of the scene. Starting with 'All I can fuckin’ think about' all the way up to when that coward skipped out the door at the first glimpse of that thread connecting you. The first sign of something laced with vulnerability. 

Every minute that passes since you’ve been cursed with Joel Miller’s enigmatic mid-coitus confession is torture. Slow, painful, agony. Time drags so excruciatingly slowly that you feel like months have passed, but it’s only been three days since you were cursed with this affliction when you get a text. Well, it’s practically a fucking email. A business memo. 

Dave: Hey, I wanted to follow up. I enjoyed our date and would love to see you again. I’m out of town for the next 72 hours, but I’d like to take you out for drinks again when I return. I can pick you up again Thursday night, same time? Or, if you’d rather, I’ll be available earlier in the evening on Friday. If you’d like to do dinner. 

Dave: I’ll be honest, though; I’d prefer to see you sooner than later. 

Holy shit. 

You reread the message at least three times as you sink onto your sofa. Your stomach flips at his second message, before you start trying to pick it apart, anyway.

It’s almost too…formal? Cordial? Maybe you’re just used to only getting cryptic sentence fragments from Joel, who texts like he’s rocking a Nokia 3310. Because it’s also so direct. Dave is not afraid to communicate clearly and express his interest in you. It’s not overtly sexual, but not nonchalant, Goldilocks approves. 

You grin at the phone in your hand, and your gaze veers off until you’re staring at the wall, projecting the replay of your date with Dave like a movie at the drive-in. His mouth grazing your ear as he murmured filthy thoughts to you at the table, his fingers skating up your thigh, the taste of his cock sliding along your tongue, and the sounds that started from deep in his chest before he came down your throat. 

It’s not like Dave wasn’t memorable, but damn, you had been wallowing in your feelings over Joel like it was your full-time job. Fuck that. Dave is a welcome distraction. You agree to drinks and let him know you’re looking forward to seeing him, before swapping to your text thread with Katie. 

You: is it just because the bar is in hell for men, or is it appropriate for my pussy to flood over a man with a plan??? 

Katie: Can it be both? 

Katie: Oh my god

Katie: PLEASE tell me it’s the bathroom blowjob guy

Katie: Is he planning a second date? 

Katie: I told you! Green flags! 

You: maybe 🙃

……..

Knowing you have a date to look forward to eases the sting. The memory of Joel walking out the door. You can still hear his fucking bedroom voice in your ear, but the chokehold loosens slightly. You fill the next couple of days with anything and everything to make the time pass faster. Too busy to have the time to check your phone or, worse, text Joel. 

Dave continues to be everything Joel isn’t. Communicative, confirming your plans the morning of, punctual, pulling up precisely on time, and a gentleman greeting you with a compliment and opening the car door for you. You know you've let the demented demons within you get a little too comfortable when the green flags almost give you the ick. Katie’s voice echoes in your ears, and you suck it up.

It turns out Distraction Dave is just as hot as you remember–even without a jealous Joel-shaped ogre stirring your loins from across the room. He exudes a debonair charm with his tailored, quiet luxury brand look. You feel a wave of insecurity lurch in your chest before you realize he’s got you on his arm like you’re a designer accessory. He’s pleased to be seen with you as he guides you to your table in the dimly lit jazz-style lounge. It puts you at ease when he takes the lead in making decisions. 

The cocktails are strong, but you’ve only had a few sips before. It’s Dave who has you feeling warm in the face. He’s flirty but doesn’t push. He doesn’t assume you will get handsy under the table again. In your twisted brain, that only emboldens you to make a move. He’s still talking, but you aren’t really listening, distracted by his neck and lips and how close you are to each other. 

Close enough that it’s no stretch to slide your hand from your lap to his. You drag your hand slowly, up up up. When the corner of his mouth curls into a smirk, you feel your pulse jump. The atmosphere fades, and the noise blurs as your senses lock onto him. Dave’s brow twitches just before his hand covers yours. 

“There she is,” his smile is devilishly handsome with a dark glint in his eyes, “my dirty girl.” His voice, his words, and the heat of his hand sprinkle horny fairy dust over you. “Thought about you all week,” he confesses. 

All I can fuckin’ think about. 

You swallow your intrusive Joel-voiced thought. Flush it away into the sewer. 

“Me?” you ask coyly, batting your lashes. He hums, affirming. His hand squeezes yours, and heat starts to pool between your legs. “What about me?” your eyes have a sparkle in them as you sip your drink. He leans closer to you, nose grazing the soft skin behind your ear, and your eyes flutter shut. 

“Thought about your pretty face,” he tips your chin towards him with his free hand, so close he’s all you can see. “Thought about these lips,” he gently kisses you, retreating before you can escalate the intensity. You pout at the distance when he draws back and smirks at your needy expression. “Thought I might not hear back from you with how distracted you were by your not-ex not-stalking you last time.” 

An ache flares in your heart before you drown it with irritation. Garbled words stick in your throat. Something sharp and defensive tries to slash through, but Dave continues, unbothered before you can get anything out of your mouth. 

“Mostly,” his crisp, rich scent washes over you as he dips into dot kisses up your neck, dissolving your defenses. His warm breath tickles your ear as he husks in a low tone, “I thought about how this greedy throat felt trying to swallow my cock,” his fingers wrap around your neck for emphasis, and he feels your quiet whimper of a response. 

Your cheeks burn. He claims your lips with a hungry kiss that has your moans vibrating in your throat beneath his hand. It’s urgent and needy how your tongues, teeth, and lips collide. When his other hand finally releases yours, and he possessively cups either side of your jaw in his large palms, you’re lost momentarily. Consumed by the sensation of Dave’s tongue sliding against yours and the desire to crawl into his lap and straddle him here in the booth. 

You shove away the thought of Joel that flashes through your mind and double down on your desire for Dave. You bite sharply at his bottom lip, roughly knocking your faces together as you press your body into his, demanding more intensity as you make out.

When you break apart, you feel the crazed expression on your face as you smirk at the man in front of you. “I’ll give you more to think about,” you say more breathlessly than you intended, but the message is still clear. 

You dive back in, licking a hot stripe up his neck and biting at his earlobe. Your hand is back on task, groping for Dave’s thick erection when he stops you again. He tugs your hand away, and you huff. 

Dave laughs, enjoying the frustration on your features as he tucks your hair back behind your ear. He’s rudely composed while you’re on fire. 

“Finish your drink,” he tilts his head towards the antique glass in front of you. You down the rest in an impolite gulp, wiping at the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. Dave shakes his head softly, a mix of mild disbelief and something headier. “That’s a good girl,” he acquiesces you for following his direction with gusto. 

His praise drips over you like warm honey, easing the confusion you felt at his rejection of your touch. He answers your unspoken question, “We can stay here, dirty girl, but I’d prefer to take you home so I can get my mouth on you this time.” The close quarters in the booth have you nearly nose to nose. A smirk spreads across his face when your lips part at his proposal. 

“Let’s go,” you respond quickly, it’s an easy decision. 

He takes you to his condo nearby. It’s modern, masculine, and decorated but not very revealing of anything more personal about him. He wastes no time leading you to the bedroom, and you’re just as eager to get him into bed. 

But when your impatient hands start tugging at his clothes, he grips you harshly, fingertips digging into the flesh of your upper arms, pinning them to your sides, essentially immobilizing you as he holds you back. He has this look to him like he knows something that you don’t, and that’s enough to make you pause. 

“She’s hungry, hm?” it’s phrased like a question, but you don’t think he’s expecting a real answer. His eyes rove over you before he relaxes his grip. 

“Sit.” 

You obey without a thought, perching on the edge of the perfectly made bed before him. “That’s a good girl,” his voice has a raw edge to it, and the phrase shoots straight to your core. You fight to keep still, overwhelmed with the sudden need to please him and convinced he wants to see how closely you’ll follow his orders. 

Dave’s eyes are full of lust and something darker as he studies you, his presence looming, commanding, and teasing. “Look at you, ready for more.” His tone is mocking but coated with approval that tingles along your spine. He grabs your chin, lifting your face to meet his gaze again, “You liked the risk last time. Coming on my fingers under the table.” 

You nod, and he grants you a flash of a smile. It’s gorgeous but restrained and tampered back down. 

"And you liked being on your knees for me. You liked taking my cock down your throat, didn’t you?” 

You nod again, but his fingers dig into your cheeks slightly, a silent reprimand. His voice drops to a low growl, “Use your words.” Your eyes widen before you blink away the mixture of shock and thrill. 

"Yes,” you get the word out in a quietly, “I liked it," you manage to add a hint of confidence. 

The corner of his mouth twitches. Satisfaction flickers in his eyes. “Of course you did,” he strokes your cheek gently, “you did such a good job taking care of me last time.” His adoration flutters across your skin, spreading heat. “But it’s my turn now, isn’t it?” 

The wicked smirk on his face makes you feel lightheaded as he lowers himself in front of you. Your knees part reflexively to let him move closer. “That’s a good girl. Spread these legs for me,” he continues as he runs his hands along your smooth legs until he’s bunching up the bottom of your dress.

Without wasting a second, his mouth is on you, kissing the soft crease of your thighs and sucking an open mouth kiss over the damp fabric covering your core. His hands anchor your thighs, thumbs caressing your flesh in a mockery of tenderness as his mouth delivers a sinful symphony sucking at your skin, nipping at you in a way that makes your thighs tense beneath his grip and spewing dirty thoughts. 

“So wet for me,” he mutters as he raises in front of you, pulling you to stand so he can strip you bare. Your arms hang submissively by your sides as his hand moves slowly, down your jaw, wrapped around your throat, down your chest, pausing to marvel at the sight of your tits in his palms and how your mouth parts when he kneads them in his hands. 

You wonder if you should feel vulnerable as he proceeds with his inspection, but the precision of his movements keeps you lulled. Dave’s hand slips between your legs and his fingers trace the slick seam of your cunt. You can’t help the whiny groan you respond with as you strain to remain still for him. 

He snickers at your struggle, then makes it worse. “You’re dripping, you know that?” the mocking tone in his voice does something just right to you, “such a needy slut.” Oh. That has your thighs flexing, tightening around his hand as he continues to torture you, parting the lips of your pussy with his fingers, drawing circles too slowly. 

“Have to stop myself from bending you over now and fucking you hard and fast.” Your body floods with need at the idea, dripping around his fingers and causing your hips to jerk.

“Please,” you whisper. You figure it’s polite enough. 

"Ah, ah," he warns, pulling back. "I know you’d like that, dirty girl.” 

Yes! You consider spinning around and giving him your best tempting display, hoping he’ll give in, but he seems to be a step ahead. “Lay down. You’ll get what you want.” 

Dave has a wicked gleam in his eyes as you spread out across the bed for him. He’s deliberate when he gets between your legs, spreading them wide and skipping the teasing kisses this time. He drags his tongue from your entrance to your throbbing clit before his plush lips wrap around you. The suction and pressure are dizzying, and you fill the room with panting and moaning. 

Your hips chase his mouth as he uses his tongue expertly, alternating between lazy circles and sharp flicks. The pleasure builds as he works at you. His technique gradually becomes indelicate, using everything he’s got in a way that makes you feel wild. His nose nudges at your clit as he dips further down. He allows you to keep rolling your hips gently as you rock against his chin before he pulls back. 

"Look at you, already unraveling for me," he says, voice drenched in amusement. "So desperate. She wants it all, hm?"

“Yes,” you whine, and your moans keep flowing as the pressure coils tighter within you. 

“Good,” he asserts, “come for me.” It’s a demand that has you gasping when he punctuates it with his fingers plunging inside of you. If you weren’t so enraptured by the growing pleasure and his voice, you might nitpick the logistics of coming on command–but he gives you no room for debate. 

Persuasively compelling your orgasm to hit as his fingers fuck into you and he sucks your clit into his furnace of a mouth. He doesn’t relent. The intensity of his mouth and fingers overwhelms you through the violent flash of pleasure and remains consistent as you writhe and contract, coming back down to earth. 

He's working you back up before you can fully recover or process his praise. Coaxing you toward another peak, capitalizing on his command of your mind and body. Every flick of his tongue pushes you higher until you’re gripping at the bed to stay in place. 

The ache for release teeters on unbearable as Dave’s groan buzzes through you. You tremble, sticking to the sheets with the sweat of desperation. You’re not cognizant of how you’re pleading with Dave, “Yes, yes, yes!”

But just as you’re about to tip over the edge, he stops, sitting up. 

“Hey!” you’re on edge and disoriented. 

"On your hands and knees," he orders, rougher now. "I’ve had my fill."

Oh shit. 

You scramble to obey, face hot with frustration and need as you arch in presentation for him. His hands spread your cheeks so he can get a good, long look at the sight of your glossy, swollen cunt. 

"That’s good, dirty girl, so eager," he chuckles, lining himself up against your entrance, teasing you deliciously with the slightest stretch. "You want me to fuck you hard, don’t you?"

"Yes," you breathe, the word spilling out before you form a thought.

"That’s what I thought." He pushes inside you in one smooth, hard thrust, and you gasp as he fills you completely, stretching you wide. He pauses only long enough to feel your walls rippling with contractions around the length of him, confirming his prediction. “Yeah, knew this tight little cunt would take me so well.” 

You can only hum mindlessly in response before he sets a rough pace. Gripping firmly at your hips, he keeps you in place as he drives into you, grunting with the force as his hips smack against your ass, adding more lewd noise to the moans and single-syllable words you cry out. 

You’re slipping away in the feeling of him pounding into you from behind. So mindless as your body bounces off of him that, for a split second, your tortured mind drifts to Joel. Joel’s voice and his filthy mouth, how he always gets you to beg for more.  You tense up, eyes wide, hoping you haven’t said his name in your stupor.  

Mercifully, Dave doesn’t seem to react. He continues at the same pace until his hand slides up your spine, gripping the back of your neck as he knocks your legs wider with his, angling you lower and thrusting even deeper inside of you. It’s a sharp, blinding need to come that possesses you. 

“Don’t stop,” you plead between gasping breaths.  

He gives you a slap for that. The sting has your eyes nearly rolling back like a caricature. Dave is launched closer to his own release because of your desperation, your ass jiggling, and his view of his cock disappearing inside of you over and over in time with your moans. 

He gives you exactly what you need as you shift, letting your weight fall into your shoulders so you can snake your hand back to swirl your fingers over your clit with precision, quickly bringing yourself to the peak. You fall apart around him as he grips your hips forcefully, using you as he needs while waves of pleasure debilitate you. 

He doesn’t slow down, pounding into you until his own release verges on crashing into him, and with a low, strained sound, he pulls out. The wet sounds of his fist are drowned out by the groan you both make as you collapse without his support, and he comes across your ass and lower back.

For a moment, neither of you moves, both panting as you come down from the high. Then, with a satisfied hum, he leans down and presses a soft, almost tender kiss to your shoulder. "Good girl," he murmurs, a soothing balm after the intensity. And, when he returns with a warm washcloth to clean you up, you feel glowy and drunk in his bed. 

Dave drives you home, at your request, and walks you to your door like a gentleman. He repeats that he would be happy to see you again.

 And he does. 

You both get what you want out of the arrangement. Neither of you wants a relationship and has an interest in an emotional connection. Dave isn’t always available, but he’s communicative and arranges to pick you up once or twice a week when he’s free. 

He always offers to take you for drinks or dinner at his favorite spots. Some nights, you just ask him to take you straight to his perfectly made bed. The nights you desperately need him to fuck Joel’s voice out of your head. 

It works, for the most part, as the weeks pass. Katie rolls her eyes at you when you claim you prefer your weekly dick appointments to a real relationship, but her judgment fades when you give her a juicy detail or two about the things Dave says to you in bed. You’re grateful to have an easy out to redirect her because you don’t feel strong enough to let her see the festering wound in your chest, still refusing to let go of Joel. 

Most days, it’s dull enough to manage. It’s more of a cruel joke when you hear Joel’s voice in your head first thing upon waking. When your phone buzzes and your heart stutters, you laugh bitterly at yourself for thinking it could be that stubborn asshole. It’s never him. You don’t hear from him. You don’t reach out. You consider blocking him altogether but can’t bring yourself to do it. You don’t see him on any nights out with Katie. 

You bite your tongue when you see Tommy at another karaoke night. You can’t ask about Joel, nobody knew you had been seeing each other, if that’s what you could even call it. You strategically keep yourself on the opposite end of the table from Tommy, hoping to stay out of earshot if he mentions the man haunting your thoughts. 

But as you drink your feelings one after another, they evolve. Anger swirls as you think of texting Joel and calling him out for being a gutless wonder. You pull out your phone and open your messages, rereading the last text from him. 

Joel: Miss me? 

Out of context, the two words trip you up momentarily. Even though you’ve reread them more times than you’d like to admit. And replayed that night more than you can stand. You don’t type anything to him. Your anger still burns in your gut. 

You attempt to engage with your friends, but it’s all for show. You can’t stop glancing towards Tommy, the door, or your phone. Your anger converts into something you can’t escape. 

After one more drink, your vision keeps getting blurry, not exactly from the booze. 

You try to blink back the tears in your waterline, excusing yourself from the group and dashing for the bathroom. Something messy and hurt and possesses you. Destabilizing you entirely as you feel yourself breaking down.

Weaving between bodies until you’re slamming into a stall and collapsing into a wobbly-limbed mess. Ugly sobs rip through your diaphragm, stirring up the most vulnerable fears and a cruel internal voice. Why are you hung up on someone that treated you like shit? You think it’s what you deserve? You can’t even move on? You still can’t stand up for yourself? 

Someone else enters the bathroom, and you try to hold yourself together, but they catch your sobs and ask if you’re alright. You do your best to assure the stranger that you’re okay. 

“If he makes you feel like that, he ain’t worth it, hon’,” she offers before leaving you with your thoughts in the bathroom. 

You know she meant it to be helpful, but it knocks you deeper into your feelings. You’re upset, and for what? Does he even care? Has he actually thought of you even once? He isn’t worth it. He isn’t worth it, and you still can’t stop the tears pathetically streaming down your face. It hurts even worse to know you shouldn’t care. 

You stand up, and your head spins, not just from the emotional agony but from the alcohol. When you not-so-gracefully emerge and see yourself in the mirror, you nearly lock yourself back in the stall and vow to live here now. You can’t return to the table with your eyes that swollen and red and your mascara rubbed away. 

You don’t want to be seen at all. You want to be left in bed to wrestle with your self-esteem and crippling grief over something that never existed. 

You pull out your phone, only dropping it once before sending off your hail Mary, hoping Dave can pick you up. 

Where?

The response is almost instant. You send off the name of the bar and do your best to make yourself look presentable before marching back towards your friends. You give Katie a quick hug from the side, yell-whispering into her ear that Dave is picking you up and you’ll text her tomorrow, before you slip away as quickly as you can manage. Bouncing off the back of a chair on your mission to get outside. 

You lean against the cool brick wall, eyes closed, taking deep breaths of the crisp fall air as you wait for your ride. You can hear the bass from another club across the street and the laughs and shouts from the gaggle of smokers gathered further up the block. You feel syrupy and wrung out, but you aren’t going to be sick. You just need to get home. 

“You alright?” A smooth voice cuts into your thoughts. You jerk your head more dramatically than you intended, taking in Tommy’s concerned brown eyes with a sigh. Of course. 

“Just waiting for my ride,” you do your best to act sober and emotionally stable. Whatever that looks like. 

“I’ll wait with you,” he decides. 

Your shoulders drop. You must not be very convincing. “Really, I’m fine,” you add, leaning your head against the wall. 

“Right,” he steps back but doesn’t leave. He lights a cigarette and allows you the silence as he smokes alongside you. It’s kind, you suppose, not wanting to leave you alone on the street. But he’s the last person you want to be next to right now. Or maybe second to last, you realize when he laughs and steps forward with a wave, drawing your attention to a scene that stops your heart. 

A familiar truck pulls up to the curb in front of you, and you take back your earlier assessment. You feel like you are gonna be sick. Your stomach lurches, and you feel the panic rising in your throat. 

“What are you doing here?” Tommy shouts, “Isn’t it past your bedtime?” 

You squeeze your eyes shut, like maybe if you keep them closed, you’ll blend in with the wall. 

“Just giving a friend a ride,” Joel responds gruffly from inside his truck. Your plan immediately fails. His voice compels you to look at him. 

Some unspoken fucking sibling communication happens between the two of them, and then Joel is staring at you. Unreadable. “You getting in?” he hollers at you. 

“No,” you mumble barely audible. You clear your throat, feeling hoarse, and try again. “I’m waiting for my ride.” 

“I think it’s here, darlin’,” Tommy says as he steps towards you to usher you towards Joel’s truck. You shrug him off, pulling out your phone to check your messages. To see how long it’s been since you told Dave your location. 

You didn’t. 

You texted Joel. 

You’re mortified. No, no, no. This cannot be real. You didn’t text this hot nightmare. There’s no way he would’ve responded. 

He did. 

Joel: Where? 

You’re still shaking your head and trying to wrap your head around the situation. You’re the architect of your own worst nightmare now. A disaster asking to be rescued by the guy who knows exactly how to twist the knife in your gut. You’re spiraling inwards. 

Completely unaware of the exchange between Joel and Tommy. Or how gone, you look to them. 

“Jesus Christ,” Joel mutters at Tommy as he comes round to help you into the truck. “What’d she have?” 

“Hey,” Tommy defends, “I just came outside, and she said she was waitin’ on her ride. I don’t know shit.” 

“Figures,” he’s still grumbling as he shuts the door. You’re in shock as you sit in the cab of Joel’s truck. The only other time you were inside was the night you met. 

“Shit,” you curse at yourself as Joel gets in and pulls away from the curb. 

He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t say anything. Just drives in silence. Through every light, all the way across town. 

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, “I didn’t mean to text you.” It hangs in the thick silence. You focus so hard on keeping your breathing steady, tamping down the sobs fighting to break through, that you barely register the tears that stream down your face. 

You hear him sigh before his hand rests on your thigh, “What happened?” he croaks like it hurts to speak.  

You’re reeling at that. Hearing him sigh like you’re a hindrance, like your emotions are a burden like it pains him to ask. You don’t have the clarity of mind to filter yourself. 

“Nothing,” you snap, glaring at his hand. “Don’t pretend like you care,” you dig, refusing to look at him, hot tears still rolling down your cheek. He doesn’t ask again. But he doesn’t pull his hand back, and you don’t move it until he’s shifting into park. 

Against your better judgment, you turn to face him. Your gut twists at the sight of him so close to you. After you’ve been left alone with your thoughts for so long. You can’t read his stoic face or his beautiful dark eyes. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, trying not to linger on how insane you must seem. Asking for a ride, snapping at him, and then thanking him. You cringe at yourself, trying to swipe the tears under your eyes away like that’ll make you seem more put together. 

You hop out of the cab and take a second to steady yourself. Joel’s door slams as he rounds the front of the truck to steady you. 

“Don’t,” you mutter. He puts an arm around you as if it’s natural, and you still. 

“Baby,” he says, low and soothing, “let me help.” 

Baby. It stirs the stupid butterflies in your stomach until your brain catches up. 

“No,” you shove him away. It’s weak, but he steps back.

“C’mon,” he urges you, “let’s just get you inside.” 

“No,” you still don’t move. Afraid you’ll fall apart if you try. You need him to leave before you come apart. If he touches you, you know you’ll beg him to fuck your pain away. 

“I can’t do it again.” You muster your courage, but when you look at his face, a soft sob finally breaks through, and your body shudders, gasping for a breath, “Please.”

His face darkens. His arms hang limply at his sides before his fists tighten. The street is quiet in the dark. “You think I’m here to fuck you?” 

“Is there a reason I shouldn’t?” it’s a genuine question, but it rings harsh in the night with your uneven breathing. You fumble, dropping your keys when you finally dig them out of your bag, swearing under your breath. He grabs them before you and offers them to you, dropping them into your hand, avoiding your touch. 

You mumble thanks and stalk towards your door. He stays put, watching until you’re inside before he turns to leave. 

……

You get a text from Katie the following morning. 

Katie: Girl, are you alive?

Katie: You wanna tell me why Dave looked an awful lot like Joel?

You: not really. did Tommy say something?

Katie: No?? I was trying to get a glimpse of your man when I saw you getting into Joel’s truck??

You: I texted the wrong number 

Katie: ….

Katie: Uh, unless you’ve got him in your phone as Daddy Joel (real) I don’t think those letters are that close together babe

Katie: WAIT 

Katie: When did you get Joel’s number? He barely talks to anyone! 

Kate: Don’t answer that, I’m coming over and bribing you with a hangover cure bacon egg n’ cheese and you’re telling me everything 

You: and a cold brew? 

Katie: Duh 

…………..

“Fuck,” Joel grumbles when he hears a knock at his door. He knows exactly what this is. He lets Tommy in without a word and tromps back to his kitchen to get another coffee before his interrogation starts. He sits at the table, and levels the darkest “don’t start with me” glare he can, but his idiot brother has always been immune. 

…………….

“What do you mean?” you whine at Katie from your side of the couch. “There’s no use trying to talk to him; he’s emotionally constipated, and he only wants one thing from me.” 

“Maybe there’s more to him,” she suggests vaguely. 

“You were the one telling me to drop him and move on anyway!” you argue like a child. 

“I didn’t know it was him!”

“How does that change anything?” you glare at her. Katie chews at her lip while you devour the last of your breakfast sandwich. It’s cold. You had been so wrapped up in your recollection of the ups and downs of your non-relatioinship with Joel you forgot to finish eating while it was fresh. It feels like a stupid metaphor about how he forgot to take care of yourself when you were drawn into his toxic cycle. 

You thought confessing would reduce the weight on your chest. You weren’t prepared for Katie to add to your delusion. 

“I don’t think it’s really my place to share his… baggage,” she muses. 

“Since when?” you cut her a nasty look. 

“I just think,” she pauses, and you ball up the foil from your sandwich and throw it at her, earning you a glare, “It’s complicated.” 

“Okay, Avril Lavigne,” you mock. “You’re the worst, and this is not helpful! You’ve gotta give me something. Is he married? Am I the mistress? Is he a felon? A drug dealer?” 

“You think I wouldn’t warn you about any of those?” 

“I don’t know. I never thought you’d be taking his side,” you say in a serious tone. 

“I’m not defending him!” She holds up her hands in surrender. “You deserve better than fuckboy behavior from a grown man.” 

“Thanks.” 

“It’s just,” he considers her words as your eyes narrow, “it seemed like it meant more than that. You were practically glowing half the summer.” 

“And a lifeless zombie the rest of the time?” 

“A cute zombie?” she shrugs. “I’m serious, though. Do you think he’d show up to rescue anyone else–no questions asked? That fast?” her words get softer.

“I don’t know,” you mutter, draping yourself miserably along the end of the couch, trying not to think about the times Joel bent you over the armrest. “I don’t know him at all, really.” 

“Do you want to?” 

Yes! A naive part of you shouts, hopeful and bright, blind to the reality of your situation. Oh, no. Definitely not. You dropkick that idea right to the back of your mind. Ignoring the way it screams until it’s muffled by the dejected, logical thoughts. “I can’t risk it,” you respond weakly. 

Katie hears it. The ever-resilient part of you that tries to stay one step ahead cracks and lets the vulnerability out. You refuse to worsen the abandonment wound, but it’s entangled in your heart. 

Katie doesn’t bring it up again. She spends the rest of the day with you, ordering takeout and putting on your favorite movies, like you’re going through a breakup. It helps.

…………

Life lulls back into the same routine. Except now, when you wake up, it’s Joel’s face–not his voice–that haunts you. The 

Instead of Joel’s voice haunting you when you wake up–it’s his face. The way he looked hurt. The way he dropped your keys into your hand

when you begged him not to come inside. It sinks like a stone in your stomach that you carry all day as you go through the motions. It feels hollow, but you persist. Your friends lighten the dark fog. Dave’s praise soothes the ache, and he fucks you so hard you can forget almost forget. 

But Joel lurks in your walls, in your skin, and you swear you see his headlights sweep over your living room, but it’s never his truck. At least not in the two weeks since karaoke night. You’ll never understand the trickery that makes misery slow time, but every day has felt bloated and stretched. 

Sick of feeling sick, the following week, when Joel’s face pops up, the second you open your eyes, you curse him. Spite simmers in your bones. If he had something to say, he had all the time in the world to show up and say it. Channeling the malaise into something darker, you let your anger renew your energy. 

All I can fuckin’ think about MY ASS. 

You’re itching for the distraction by the time you’re getting ready for your date with Dave this evening. You know you’re going to be a menace, and it’ll turn him on, which already has you smirking to yourself. You’re almost ready when you hear a knock at your door. You frown, checking the time. Dave’s usually precisely on time, not early. Close enough, you figure, slinging your bag over your shoulder and heading for the door. 

You swing it open, ready to see Dave, but your jaw drops when you see Joel. He’s caught off guard by your date night look and hesitates as his eyes sweep over your little black dress. Without a thought you slam the door in his face. 

What the fuck?

He knocks again, loudly, as if you weren’t standing on the other side with your mouth gaping like a fish. But the pounding brings you back to reality. 

You open the door and start before he even has a chance. 

“It’s been three weeks since I last saw you, Miller, and that was an accident! I don’t know how long it was before that, but now you’re gonna show up and ruin another date? I don’t fucking think so. You’ve got five minutes. Spit it out. What are you doing here?” 

He blinks dumbly for a moment. Taken aback by your words and still breathless at seeing you all dolled up for your date. You cross your arms, unimpressed so far. That’s somehow worse. The irritated look on your face makes him want to fuck the attitude out of you. He takes a deep breath, trying to refocus before he starts. 

“You’re right,” his voice is gentler than you remember–It’s criminal really, “I shouldn’t have waited.” He pauses and swallows thickly. Is he nervous? That’s new. “I’m not great with words, and I haven’t given you any reason to give me the time of day. I’m here to apologize.” 

“Go on then.” 

“It wasn’t right of me to run from you–”

“Which time?” you won’t let him get through this easily. Not now. He lets that sink in. The vulnerability makes his eyes shine. You can sense the charge in the air like he might just run right now. 

“Every time,” he admits. “Didn’t think you’d let me back in every time, but I couldn’t stop myself from trying. Knew you wanted me too.” You scoff at that. Amused at his approach. You see his shoulders tense before he lets your disapproval roll off of him. “Convinced myself, it was fine, or you’d stop answerin’ the door. Thought it’d be easier–” 

“If I did your dirty work for you?” you accuse sharply. “If it was my responsibility to hold you accountable?” 

“Thought it’d be easier if you hated me, I guess,” he runs his hand over the back of his neck. You stop seeing red and take him in. He smells fresh, like some over-fragranced body wash, his nearly dry hair brushed back. You hate how you feel the urge to soften just at the sight of him. “Figured you’d move on,” he rumbles. 

“Didn’t seem like you wanted me to move on when you crashed my date.” 

“It wasn’t my plan,” he mutters. Right. You raise your eyebrows. “You–you just drive me fuckin’ crazy. I don’t know why. But I can’t get you outta my fuckin’ head.”

That makes you smile. His confession willfully given on your front doorstep. In the daylight, without your body seducing his. You drive him crazy. 

Dave’s car pulls up behind Joel’s truck. “Time’s up,” you say, “as much as I really enjoy this 90s romcom-style confession, and I really do, I’ve got a date, and I don’t like to keep my dates waiting.” 

“Right,” Joel takes you in like he might never see you again, “he something serious?” he nods towards Dave’s car. 

“Why, you planning to ask me out?” you’re not afraid to be direct anymore. Nothing to lose. 

“Thought I’d just start with the apology.” 

“Good.” 

“You accept?” 

You laugh loudly, full-chested. It’s a release, but it ends mockingly. “You’re gonna have to try harder than this to show you really mean it.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he nods, turning to leave. A wicked idea flashes through your mind as you watch him turn and look past him towards Dave, who is watching you intently. 

“Wait,” you call out, and Joel spins immediately. “I’ll consider your apology tonight on one condition.” He waits to hear more, and your grin sends a shiver down his spine. He’s in for something, and if it’s anything close to what he deserves, it’s gonna hurt. 

…………

You slide into your favorite corner booth, in between Dave and Joel. You admire them both in the dim light. You haven’t been able to keep the nefarious smirk off your face since you proposed your idea. Dave was an easy sell, just as you knew he would be, with minimal questions and clear on the role you wanted him to play. You weren’t surprised that Joel agreed, but you’re skeptical that he’ll be able to keep his cool. 

“You’re coming with us,” you told him like it was a command, “you’re gonna watch, and you’re gonna prove to me that you can behave.” 

He seems to keep it together through your date. He’s quiet, only accepting a drink when you tell him not to be weird. You know the jealousy is screaming beneath the surface. He does his best to rein it in, but when Dave taunts him with sly comments or touches you so freely, you catch his jaw tensing and his hands balling into tight fists, but he doesn’t say anything. 

Dave exudes confidence and control. He relishes in the power dynamic and more so, in how you’re so turned on by having an audience. Dave’s eyes are sharp, catching all of Joel’s discomfort when you giggle when you share a story when he touches you, but worst of all, when you touch Dave. “Dirty girl,” Dave murmurs close to your ear, “you want to give your guest a show before we take him home?” 

Your eyes are bright and shining when you smile at him. You give Joel a once over. He doesn’t look like he will flip the table or smash his fist through it. He glowers at Dave but softens for you, swallowing down the humiliation and washing it down with another drink. 

“Yeah,” you turn back to Dave, “he can take it. What do you have in mind?” 

“I think I dropped something under the table,” Dave’s low voice drips down your spine, and excitement buzzes in your core, “You think you can help me out?” You smile wide as the Cheshire cat before sinking beneath the table. It’s cramped and dark, but you’ve never been more grateful to Dave for reserving his favorite secluded corner spot. 

You wiggle a bit brushing against Joel as you situate yourself between Dave’s legs. The table muffles more of the sound, blending their voices into the sound of the music. You can tell Dave is trying to continue a casual conversation with Joel, and you can tell Joel doesn’t respond with many words. You find it easy enough to tune them out altogether as you focus on your mission, opening Dave’s belt and working quickly to tug at his pants until you can free his thick cock. 

Before you can get your mouth on it, Dave cups your jaw and grabs your attention, “Good girl,” he husks, matching your hungry gaze. “This what you want?” he asks as he grips the base of his cock and angles it towards you. You nod, wetting your lips in anticipation. “Do you want him to watch?” he asks, tilting his head towards Joel. 

You smile again, “Yes.” 

“Come closer,” he directs Joel, “she wants you to watch.” Joel shuffles over, scooting down the curved bench until he can see your face looking up at him. 

“Shit, baby,” Joel hisses, shifting to adjust himself. You see the mix of emotions flickering across his face. You can’t help yourself from holding eye contact with Joel as you slide your tongue down Dave’s length. You keep your eyes on him as you begin to bob your head, taking his cock deeper into your mouth. 

Having their eyes on you, has you squirming. The attention and the dynamics between the three of you has your heart in your cunt. The blazing jealousy in Joel’s eyes eggs you on, working sloppily to please Dave. You moan below them. 

“Look at her,” Dave speaks calmly to Joel, only a hint of strain in his voice as he maintains his composure. “You think another woman could enjoy your cock this much? You think you could find a mouth better than this?” 

“No,” Joel grits through clenched teeth. 

“You think you deserve her?” Dave asks like it’s as meaningless as asking about the weather. 

“No,” he grits again, his eyes shut tightly, waiting for something to pass, before he can continue watching you. You see the torment taking hold, lighting a fire within you that spurs you on. You break the eye contact to take Dave’s cock even deeper. He groans approvingly above you. 

“That’s it,” Dave encourages you with his hand gently wrapping around the back of your head, “just like that, fuck.” He keeps watching you, but his next words are for Joel. “Tell her,” he says, drunk with pride and lust, “tell her what a good girl she is. Think she more than deserves to hear it.” You know your cunt is dripping between your legs at the intensity of your lewd behavior and the control Dave wields over the both of you so effortlessly. 

You shift to watch Joel. He tempers the storm of his frustration and arousal to make sure it sounds honest. So you know he means it.

“That’s good, baby,” his voice is hoarse, and he clears his throat before continuing, “Such a good girl.” Your eyes nearly roll back. You didn’t think it could hit any harder than when Dave praises you, but hearing the words from Joel sends you to another plane. You melt before your determination is renewed, and you’re on a mission to make Dave come. He knows what you want, and his hips tilt, rocking into you as you swallow around him eagerly until he’s groaning again and pulsing against your tongue as he comes. 

The men shift, and the three of you adjust and fix yourselves, respectively, as you return to your seat between them. You’re pleased with yourself but overtaken with the need throbbing in your cunt. You don’t miss Joel’s attempts to adjust himself and squash his own aching desire. It makes your lips curl with a hungry smile. 

Dave pulls you towards him. You’re buzzing so tensely with anticipation that just his grip around your waist brings a whiny moan out of you. He chuckles darkly at your wrecked response. “So worked up just from that, aren’t you?” Dave teases. You hum in agreement, letting your senses be overwhelmed by the scent of both men and their warm bodies on either side of you. “Already soaked and ready to be filled with a cock, hm?” 

“Yes,” you agree, closing your eyes and smiling dreamily. 

“Tell me,” Dave murmurs with a dangerous edge. 

“So wet,” you purr in agreement, but he laughs again. You open your eyes, confused. 

“Was asking him,” Dave tilts your chin towards Joel. You thought your idea of having Joel watch would be punishment enough, but you weren’t prepared for how Dave’s filthy mind works a step ahead of yours. You pull Joel’s hand between your legs. “Check for me,” he orders. 

Joel obeys. His fingers are quick to find your soaked underwear, and he easily dips them beneath the fabric into the pool of slick at your fluttering entrance. “Fuck,” you both curse at the sensation. It’s overwhelming, and you jerk at the intensity of being touched where your body wants contact the most. 

“Fuckin’ soaked,” Joel confirms like it’s painful to say it, “needs it bad.” You think the latter might apply to both of you. 

“You think you can make it all the way home, dirty girl?” Dave teases. You nod, but the whiny sound that comes from your throat as Joel removes his hand says otherwise. Dave considers your needs. “He’s only here to watch, hm?” he confirms. You nod mindlessly. “You think he’d make a nice seat for your ride home? Keep that empty hole full for you?” 

“Oh, shit,” you feel your face heat at the idea, “yes.” 

Joel’s more conflicted than he’s ever felt in his life. He was prepared to fight off his jealousy and tame his anger. He wasn’t prepared to watch you give Dave head in public or for how fucking hard he would get watching. But the most difficult thing to reckon with is the humiliation. More specifically, how every comment from either one of you that further salted his wound made his skin boil but also sent jolts of excitement through his nerves. 

“You think you can keep it together?” Dave challenges Joel. 

“Yes.” 

………………

Joel regrets agreeing before you leave the parking lot, but you couldn’t pay him to go back in time and change his answer. He thought the worst of it was over once you finally settled on top of him, sinking painfully slowly down his cock until your ass was flush with his hips, but you can’t stay still. You tense and contract around him, nearly blinding Joel with the heat of your velvety soft walls choking his shaft. You lean forward, trying to get comfortable, and when the car bounces over a speed bump on the way out of the parking lot, you both groan with pleasure and frustration. 

“You feel better?” Dave asks you as he navigates swiftly back to yours. 

“So full,” you state, desperately fighting the urge to beg Joel to grab your hips and fuck you. You weren’t exactly exaggerating the last time you had sex with Joel when you said you missed his “big fat cock.” Every bump on the road has you biting back moans, and you squirm, trying to find a comfortable position. 

“Please,” Joel’s low voice is strained and ragged, “quit moving.” 

You should’ve had the foresight to realize this wasn’t a punishment for Joel. This was just going to weaken your resolve. You know the second he gets his hands on you, it’s useless. You’re his through and through. You thought you were still pissed off enough that he couldn’t get to you, that Dave’s presence would keep you on track. 

Well, you didn’t really think about it at all. You just felt your knees go weak when, and your cunt do a flip when Dave made the suggestion. You need to make a mental note to show him just how much you appreciate his dirty mind when you get back home. 

You can feel Joel’s growl rumbling through his chest and his thighs tensing beneath you. It’s a vicious cycle. Every sound he makes is like a call and response with your body. Your cunt denounces your orders to stay still and pulses rhythmically, trying to take Joel’s cock deeper on it’s own accord. His breath hitches, and you adjust. 

“Baby,” he rasps, sounding wrecked, “I can’t–fuck–can’t do this if you’re gonna be a fuckin’ tease. His hands wrap around your hips, fingers digging harshly into your flesh in an attempt to keep you still, but the pressure makes you cry out softly. 

“Is your chair complaining?” Dave mocks, and Joel’s cock tenses inside of you. 

“I’m about to complain,” you try to snark, but it comes out needy instead. 

“What do you need, dirty girl?” He asks sincerely. You know it’s not long to get home, but you can’t think straight with Joel’s cock so deep inside of you. 

“Fuck, I…” you wiggle again, causing Joel to grunt behind you, and the noise makes your pussy flex, “I can’t,” you trail off, digging your nails into your palms, trying to steady yourself. You feel pathetic right now, unable to put together a sentence and barely able to keep yourself still. 

“Hey,” Dave coos gently, seeing the pained expression on your face. “You decide what you want. Your rules. You want him to touch you?” 

“Mmm,” you groan loudly with want, “please, please, please.” 

Joel doesn’t hesitate, hands searching immediately and yanking you closer as he gropes at your body. The freedom to move gives him power over his urges, more control than either of you expected. His breath is hot against your neck before his voice, gravelly and dark, vibrates just behind your ear, “Missed hearing you beg for me.” 

Your head lolls back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut and mouth hanging open. You moan in sync as his hands wrap around your body, slipping under the top and bottom of your dress at the same time. You’re pinned, back against his firm chest, as one hand pinches at your hard nipple and the other taps at your clit. Your body struggles in his strong arms, unable to bow at the overstimulation of his touch. All you can manage is to rut your hips into him. 

“You desperate to come on my cock again, baby?” he goads you. Feeling confident now that he’s free to run his filthy mouth again. Feeling drunk on your needy noises and the way you writhe for him. He carries on teasing you in his Joel-specific way with his words and his fingers. It’s maddening, and you feel lit up, skin tingling as you’re at his mercy. You can only see blinding light, like you’re inside of a star, as you get closer and closer. 

You’re too incapacitated to realize you’ve made it home, that the car has stopped moving, that Dave has turned to watch you. Joel continues to rasp filth into your ear, but your body spasms in response when Dave begins to encourage you. “That’s right,” Dave coaxes you, “take what you need.” 

You do. Falling headfirst into the rush, broken, gasping, moans ringing through the car. The scent of sex swirling in the air. Your tension snaps, flooding with endorphins, and riding through the waves as you’re fully supported by Joel’s arms and body. 

“Fuck,” Joel chokes out, biting down into the curve of your neck to stifle himself. Your cunt still weakly tries to milk his cock as your hips twitch and jerk while you ease back down from your orgasm. You can feel the mess you’ve made. Hot and sopping wet, dripping down Joel’s cock and making you slip against his thighs. You’ve never made such a mess before. 

Joel shudders and tenses beneath you. Lifting you off of him with a familiar grunt. It’s his come leaking out of you. Your head swivels, “that wasn’t for you.” His cocky attitude from minutes earlier is gone; shame washes over him. His curls are no longer tamed like they were when he showed up at your door; one sticks to the sweat on his forehead. He breathes deeply, chest rising and falling, as he mouths a barely audible apology. 

It’s twisted that it stirs your need to comfort him. Fuck it. You figure the whole evening has been wild enough so far. Plus, he can take some of the emotional whiplash this time. You’re tired of being the one with that look on your face. You can see the taunt dancing on Dave’s tongue; you know he’s ready to cut Joel with vicious words, but he holds them, waiting for your lead. 

It’s an unbelievable position to be in. You aren’t used to feeling like you’ve got the upper hand in the power dynamic like this. Not with Joel. Not with two men that radiate dominance like it’s in their DNA. You’d like to savor the moment, but now that you’re not burning a horny fever, you realize how incredibly impractical it is to sit on top of such a large man inside of the car. You’re all gonna end up with neck cramps if you’re in here another minute. 

Despite dying to know what Dave’s holding back, you have more mercy than him or Joel. Joel, who currently can’t look you in the eye as he stays uncomfortably rigid beneath you, well, except for his spent cock. The thought makes you snort weakly, amused at your own sense of humor. 

You contort in Joel’s lap to kiss him softly on the cheek. “Chin up, Joel,” you lilt. “You can make it up to me. We’re not done yet,” you nod towards Dave who smirks darkly, “Unless you’ve changed your mind.” You open the door and hop out, leaving both men to watch you walk to the door. For the first time since you opened your door tonight, you’re alone long enough to let some nerves start to get to you. 

Your dates don’t follow immediately. They take long enough that you start to spin out in your head. Are you insane for this whole idea? Did you really just crawl under a table to Dave in front of Joel? In public? What the fuck are they talking about without you? You’re impatient now, arms crossed, leaning against the door frame, letting the cool night air stream into your living room. 

Then they’re striding towards you. Hungry eyes glinting. Both are intimidatingly gorgeous in their own ways. Dave exudes a slightly detached, effortless, authoritative swagger. It makes you feel special when he gives you his undivided attention. Joel is raw, slightly untethered like he’s always weary from warring with his own demons, but he still wields lethal power. They stalk towards you swiftly, catching your concern as they usher you towards your bedroom with more coordination than you expected. 

The door closes behind you with a soft click, but the tension in the air is heavy, as if someone had slammed it shut. Your room feels smaller with the weight of the situation about to unfold. Dave’s presence behind you makes your pulse quicken; the head of his body and his signature scent surround you. Joel watches, leaning against the door, arms crossed, jaw set, determined restraint weighing on his features. Despite the distance between you, Joel’s presence feels all-consuming. You’re mesmerized by his figure. His arms look even bigger, crossed in front of him, his broad shoulders, his pouty bottom lip, his strong jaw. You feel possessed with the need to …bite him? But, you don’t move. 

Dave’s fingers trace lightly down your spine as you continue to unabashedly ogle Joel, who stiffens at the sight of Dave’s hands slipping the straps of your dress over your shoulders. He’s unreadable, but the something simmering beneath the forced calm is contextually obvious. Joel’s trying to keep his cool; he doesn’t flinch, but he shifts, unable to remain still while he can only watch. 

Katie always referred to the chair in your room you designated as laundry purgatory as the cuck chair. It was only a joke, but if it isn’t perfect now. You glide across the room, tossing the worn-once sweatshirts and denim into the laundry hamper for future you to sort, offering the seat to Joel. It’s comical how his presence seems so out of place on the thrifted antique parlor chair.

You giggle softly as you spin back toward Dave, eager to find out what his depraved mind is plotting for the rest of the night. Dave’s voice is a low hum as he welcomes you into his arms, “Let’s make sure Joel gets a good look at what he’s missing out on, hm?” You nod, letting Dave arrange you as he pleases. “Pay attention,” he orders Joel, “I’m doing you a favor.” You can hear the devious glee lurking beneath Dave’s controlled tone. Joel’s dark eyes spark with something fierce as they flick to Dave before landing back on you. 

You can feel your pulse beating in your neck—and your cunt—as your chest heaves dramatically as Dave’s hands move over you. His touch is both tender and possessive as he makes a show of removing all of your clothes. It’s exaggerated to eat at Joel, but it works you up just the same. Dave pauses, letting his fingers hover over your nipples, brushing them just enough to make you shiver before kneading your soft tits, making you gasp. 

“You see that?” Dave asks over your shoulder, addressing Joel. “She’s so needy already. All worked up again. How are you going to satisfy her if she needs my cock right after you make her come?” 

You see Joel stiffen, gripping the arms of your chair like he might crush them. He’s still holding on to some semblance of composure, but it’s unraveling. You didn’t expect the dynamic between them to hit you straight in the pussy, but you’re dizzy, humming with anticipation. 

“On the bed, greedy girl,” Dave instructs. You follow without question, crawling onto the mattress, your pulse pounding in your ears. Joel’s eyes are glued to you, devouring every inch of your bare skin. It’s impossible for you to look away from him. His struggle as he works so fucking hard not to show how much he wants you, even though it’s written all over his face, is driving you wild. His fingers twitch as if he’s resisting the urge to touch you, to take. 

With your head still turned, locked onto the sight of Joel, your mouth parts in a soft gasp as Dave’s broad hands spread your legs wide, exposing your heated skin to the cool air in the room. You break away from your staring contest to catch the searing heat in Dave’s eyes before he lowers, pausing just before his lips brush against your swollen clit. He doesn’t ease the ache yet, lifting his head and turning to Joel with a smirk. “Come closer. You might learn something,” he challenges smugly. 

You’d roll your eyes at his arrogance, but then he dives in, tongue sliding against your slick cunt with devastating precision. You can only dig your fingers into your sheets as you arch and moan in response to his expert rhythm. With your eyes squeezed shut and your breath coming in uneven, shallow pants, you relax into the sensation coursing through you. 

“Tell him,” Dave hums into your skin, “Tell Joel how good it feels.” 

Your eyes flutter open, meeting Joel’s gaze. The sight of him has you at a loss for words. His face is expressionless, but as always, his eyes betray him. Sharp, hungry, and barely containing the storm inside of him. “So… feels, fuck, feels so good.” 

Joel’s chest rises and falls heavily. Dave’s taunts don’t hurt Joel’s pride, but watching you fall apart for another man twists his gut harshly. You’re so close he could count the beads of sweat forming on your chest. He can taste you and smell you, and it drives him wild. Like a beast, only held back by his hope to have a chance for more. 

Dave chuckles against you, his breath teasing your clit before he wraps his lips around it, sucking hard. The pleasure slams through you, and you cry out, your hips jerking against his mouth. Every nerve ending alight with sensation. You can’t think, only feel.

“She’s so responsive,” Dave gloats.

Joel doesn’t acknowledge the comment. His composure is cracking, the frustration bubbling to the surface. You can see it in the way his jaw clenches, the way his eyes stay glued to the place where Dave’s mouth moves over you with expert ease.

But Dave isn’t done with either of you yet. He pulls back from between your legs, his fingers trailing over your slick skin as he moves to stand. His eyes are alight with that dangerous gleam that makes your heart race. “Let’s show Joel what a dirty girl you are for me.”

You’re eager to obey. “How do you want me?” Your voice is breathy and ragged already. It only crosses your mind now that you’re completely naked while they’re still fully dressed. You sit up, reaching for Dave’s belt before he’s answered you. He takes off his shirt while you work diligently to release his cock. “Look at her, Joel,” Dave taunts, his voice thick with pride and adoration for you. “She just wants to be fucked right.” 

Joel swallows hard. The effort it takes to keep himself in check is wavering. He’s burning with the urge to claim you, to show you the meaning of being fucked right, to make you come so hard you forget Dave’s name. His ears ring, tuning Dave out completely, watching you adjust, lying back on your pillows, welcoming Dave between your legs. 

Joel is transfixed. Watching as Dave positions himself between your legs and slides into you with an agonizingly slow thrust. Distantly, he can hear you moaning loudly; he can hear Dave continuing to goad him about how tight you are and how he gives you what you need or whatever else he thinks matters. All Joel can process is the sight of Dave’s cock disappearing inside of you. Over and over and over again. 

A deep, nauseating wave of embarrassment sinks heavily into Joel’s stomach. You wanted to punish him? Like this? It’s too absurd to be a joke, to be a sick prank. It can’t be some kind of trap. You aren’t cruel like that. Worse. He’s trapped between his anger and arousal. Forced to watch as Dave takes you apart, piece by piece. Tortured by his own cock throbbing painfully in response to everything about you. He looks at your face and feels dismantled by your gaze. Hazy and sweet, you’re staring at him, wet lips parted as you gasp shallowly while Dave keeps up his pace. 

Joel’s composure is slipping, his hands flexing before he gives in, trying to readjust. Hoping to find the slightest relief as he palms himself over his jeans. Your brows wrinkle with pleasure, and a breathy “oh, fuck,” slips out of you. Seeing Joel so turned on just from watching you sends you rolling into a warm, vision-blurring climax. 

“I know,” Dave coos in your ear as you catch your breath, “I know.” He’s still murmuring against your neck, but it’s the silent exchange with Joel that makes you smile lazily. You think he figured it out, the power he has over you with just his expressions. That he’s the one that has you breathless. “Tell her,” Dave growls over you. 

“Good girl,” Joel utters hoarsely, mouth dry. He sees the glow wash over you at his words, and it clicks. Finally. Whatever it is between you affects you just as much. His punishment isn’t watching someone else please you, wondering if they really can make you feel better than he can. Wondering if they’ll treat you better. If you’re better off without Joel at all. No. 

It’s knowing they can’t. Knowing you’ve been just as empty without him as he’s been without you. That it’s been his fault. He’s made it worse. You’re all he can fuckin’ think about, and he’s in your head just the same. 

And right now his punishment is to wait this night out. To be vulnerable and reveal the truth. The desperate desire he has for you. He’s pathetic with it, honestly. He’ll sit here all night, show you how hard you make him, tell you how badly he wants you, describe how perfect you are, anything. It starts to pour out of him as his jealousy and anger recede. “So good, baby, you look beautiful, like a dream,” Joel’s voice is filled with earnest wonder. You beam, your eyelids heavy with lust as Joel continues. “I want you so bad it hurts. You’ve got me losing my fuckin’ mind.” 

“That’s a start,” Dave commends Joel before he shifts, pulling out and flipping you onto your hands and knees. You can hear Joel cursing under his breath as Dave kneads the plush curves of your ass, spreading you wide and showing off your glossy cunt. “You see that? Perfect, right?” He doesn’t wait for Joel to respond, focused on lining himself up and sliding back inside of you as deep as he can. 

Dave groans along with you as he lights up every nerve within you, and your pussy contracts coaxing him deeper. He pauses when his hips meet your ass, filling you to the hilt before he wraps an arm around you to pull your back flush against his chest. “Look at him,” Dave tilts your head to be sure you can take in Joel’s wrecked expression. “You think he deserves to touch himself while I’m fucking you?” Dave asks, shifting his attention back to you, mischief twinkling in his eyes. 

“No,” you reply, resolute. “He doesn’t deserve it. But I want to watch, so he will.” Dave’s grin widens, reveling in your direct nature. He lowers you, and you adjust, resting your cheek on your pillow so you can watch. “Please, Joel, let me see.” Your begging has the exact effect you wanted on Joel when you hear the throaty groan he makes. 

You squirm involuntarily when you finally get a clear view of Joel’s cock, clenching tightly around Dave’s cock. He hums behind you, muttering about how you’re unreal, and he hopes Joel can handle a woman like you as he slowly drags himself almost completely out of you before snapping his hips brutally, slamming back into you. 

You’re bewitched. The head of Joel’s cock glistens, weeping with precome, enticing, and menacing as his fist strokes slowly along his shaft. You’re salivating at the debauched scene and drenching Dave’s cock as he continues to slowly work you back up. The sounds of skin slapping against skin fill the room, mingling with your gasps and moans.

“You see that?” Dave asks you, “Look how desperate he is. You think he wants to come?” 

“Yes,” you reply, “fuck, yes.” 

“Ladies first, though, hm?” Dave muses as he picks up his pace, pushing you closer, finding the perfect angle that makes your mind go blank. The pressure builds inside you, and the louder you get, the more Joel starts to fall apart. Your flip between Joel’s eyes and his fist pumping his cock ravenously. For you. All for you. 

That sends you over the edge, wringing all the pleasure out of you, taking Dave with you as he stills against you, cock pulsing hotly inside of you, as your limbs feel weak and you sink into the mattress. You watch as Joel spills over his knuckles, cursing and grunting as he comes, and it makes you giddy. 

Dave kisses your shoulder tenderly, praising you quietly, just for you, before he gets up and, like clockwork, heads to the bathroom to clean up and get you a warm washcloth. You continue to grin loosely, giggling softly, still amused by how out of place Joel looks. You see the fear flit across his face, and a cold, nasty feeling rips through you as you brace for the worst. Cruel words spring up, ready to protect you, but you hold your tongue. You won’t guilt him into staying. You can’t choose for him. 

It’s a painfully long minute. He doesn’t look at you. You try not to shut down. And then Dave is back, ever the gentleman, with warm washcloths for both of you. He checks in with you softly, “What do you need?”

The words stick in your throat. You sit up and force yourself to get them out. It’s barely above a whisper. “I need to talk to Joel.” He looks at you finally, as if you whispering his name snapped him out of a trance. Dave nods. 

“You want me to stay?” Dave asks. You blink at him curiously. Neither of you do sleepovers. You don’t need a bodyguard. You must have it stamped across your forehead like a holiday package: fragile. 

“No.” 

He takes your word for it, redressing and heading out swiftly. Leaving you alone with Joel. 

Unreadable Joel. With no clues in his eyes or his body language. His head follows you, watching as you cross the room to grab a shirt. You honestly wonder if he could disappear in the half a second your vision is obscured while you pull it over your head, but he’s still there. So, you gather your courage and face him head-on. 

“Can we talk?”

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<- Part 3 (previous)

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[bet-on-me-13]

Danny runs for Mayor P.2

kgned3Part 1

Some more snippets of the Gotham Mayor Danny AU!

...

Danny would absolutely try to hire some of the Rouges as his Mayoral Cabinet, I can just imagine Waylon Jones, the Killer Croc, in a Suit and Slacks sitting in a the Mayors Office while awkwardly holding his resume.

Danny: So, Mr. Jones, why do you think we should hire you? Waylon: Well sir, I have something of a reputation and I feel like I would be an amazing Bodyguard. Danny: OK, one question though. What is your opinion on Clowns? Waylon: I don’t like them. Danny: Hired!

...

Danny: Now, Mr Nygma, what do you think you would bring to my office? Edward: Well sir, I am fairly well known for my expert planning and timing skills. Also I can give you fun riddles whenever you want! Danny: Hmmm, that’s definitely a good point. One question, if needed, will you attack a clown on sight? Edward: Yes? Danny: Hired!

...

Danny: Now, I can see that you used to have a very reputable resume Mr. Dent. Harvey: Thank you sir. Danny: I can’t see any reason to refuse your application, but I do have one question. Do you like Clowns? Harvey: Uhm...yes? Danny: I am sorry dir, but I am going to have to reject your application for a job in the Mayors office. Mr Jones, please escort this man out 

...

Danny would absolutely do an amazing job in decreasing the crime rate, just by virtue of the fact that his very presence is destabilizing the Curses put on the City.

But at the same time, his policies are also very efficient, based on Gen Z Humor/Ideas

Danny: As my new Law states, every year the most rich person in the City will be forced to give up 70% of their assets to Charity. You can avoid this by donating as much as possible in the weeks leading up to the Sacrifice Day, whoever donates the most is exempt from the choosing even if they are the Richest, we will then move on to the second Richest, and so on Reporter: Sir, isn’t this just the “Winner Of Capitalisms” Prompt from Tumblr? Danny: Yes.

...

Batman: Why did you just pass a Law that states that all Vigilantes are given the right to kill? Danny: Because I accidentally hired every villain in Gotham, so now there is nobody to try and bribe me. And if nobody tries to bribe me, then nobody realizes that I will only accept bribes if the Joker is dead, like I said in my Campaign. I know that you guys have a no-kill rule, but I know at least one of you who would jump at the chance  Batman: *realizes that Dick has already killed the Joker once, Jason is actively attempting to every day, Tim is chaos incarnate and would do it to feel included, and Damian just really wants to let loose* Well played...

...

Danny: Vlad, I am serious. Leave me alone or I will put you in Soup Jail for 3 months! Vlad: FINE! I’ll just go possess another Billionaire to force them to give me their company again Batman, listening from outside the window: What the f-

...

Danny in every conversation with the Batfamily: I re-respect your decision to not tak-take a life...but I must insist you kill the Joker...for the good of the peephol-People! He is not a good inf-influence on this city and he must be des...troyed. Batman: *Wondering why he sounds like he is reading from a script* Um, I don’t think thats a good idea? Lady Gotham: *Standing behind Batman with some Cue Cards, trying to communicate with her Knights through Danny* *Thumbs Up* Danny: Also I wanted to say that you need to- oh um, ok- to get over the deaths of your parents and grieve in a healthy way instead of adopting every child you see. You are doing a great job kid, parentheses, do not read this par- Oh-Oops. Batman: Hm. I’m not even going to question that anymore.

...

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[maxarchive]

"A season that brought the best out of the best" Motorsport Magazine, February 2025 Issue, by Mark Hughes

We've seen plenty of demonstrations of Max Verstappen brilliance on his way to a fourth straight title this season. But has he become a yet-greater driver in '24? Yes. But not because of what he's done in the car; that's always been remarkable. Rather, in a challenging combination of circumstances where it would have been very easy for the whole team to have come undone, he has been the glue. He couldn't have been that if his power was not underwritten by the enormity of his talent. It was on display this season just as always – the virtuosity of dancing through the Interlagos rain, the steely focus of keeping a closely chasing McLaren from getting within DRS reach for 30 laps in Qatar, the technical perfection of Suzuka, the defensive masterclass of Imola, etc. But the circumstances he found himself in this season brought out a leader. At 27 years old he's no longer only the dazzling hurricane of speed and ambition. No longer only someone so driven, drilled and practiced that he’s virtually unbeatable in an equal car. No longer only someone of which his friend and Formula 1 driver coach Atze Kerkhof says is as good as he is, "because of a brilliant natural talent and millions of hours of training. He’s only got better. The rough edges have gone and now he’s like a machine. You cannot beat him." No, Max Verstappen is more even than all that now. A driver in their tenth F1 season doesn't get faster. They can possibly access their best stuff more consistently. But he's been doing that almost perfectly for seven seasons now, a remarkable achievement in itself. So where has he got better? Circumstances have demanded an extra dimension from him – and he's delivered it. But in a way which has not buried him, which still allows him his easy delineation between racing and home, keeping his mind perfectly uncluttered to focus on performance.

He prepared like never before for the new season, as team boss Christian Horner revealed at Suzuka in April. "He changed trainer over the winter. He's fit and lean. You can hear how much spare capacity he has in the car. He wants to know not just who's behind him, but who is behind them as well and what times are they doing. He's become very astute at managing the tyre. The way he managed to extend the tyre life here [at the Japanese Grand Prix] was so impressive."

But that's just a detail, a polishing-up. The leadership dimension came from the circumstances of Red Bull's season. Specifically the strains arising from the controversy surrounding the Horner internal investigation in the early season. Then the car's mid-season competitive decline.

The serenity in the cockpit at the start of 2024, as Verstappen continued from where he'd left off in his dominant '23 campaign, was very much in contrast to how things were in the team as the Horner controversy about the employee complaint against him played out and Max's father Jos got involved, opposing the team boss, campaigning for him to be ousted. 

The way Max dealt with the powerplay, which also involved Helmut Marko, the man who had almost single-handedly brought him to F1, was illuminating. He did not align himself with Jos, stayed on good terms with him but went his own way. He did state his unambiguously firm support of Marko – "If he goes, then so do I" – so sending an implicit message to Horner not to overplay his hand.

But then he helped bring calm equilibrium back, just continued with the competitive imperative and remained civilised with everyone, Horner included.

"What I know is that this team doesn’t give up," said Verstappen after clinching the title in Las Vegas. "There are a lot of very confident people and I really enjoy working with them. I know there was a lot of pressure on them. When you come out of a season like last year where we broke every record and then start to struggle to understand what is going wrong, it's important to remain calm as you try to fix it. Every person in the team has their own emotions which you have to deal with. It's also people-management – because everyone acts in different ways to good results or bad results. But that's something I enjoy as well. Because we all have our own character but we all have to work together to the same end goal and I'm proud of how we stuck together through those races where we were a bit lost."

As Jos was saying that Horner remaining would tear the team apart, Max was ensuring that it wouldn't. Probably this didn't come as much of a surprise to his mother, Sophie Kumpen, the former top-class karter who provided much of his genetic make-up. "Max will always want to solve things first by talking," she explained in a Dutch TV interview. "He is a sensitive person. He gets the fierce racing side from Jos. The gentle side from me. But make no mistake, eh. Under the helmet he is a tiger."

Given Max's childhood and the tempestuous marriage surrounding his early home life before his parents split, it's not much of a stretch to imagine where that diplomatic impulse might come from. It's something so at odds with his racing image, someone who is so uncompromising in his desire to win, he's even prepared to cross the line. As he phrased it in one of his own documentaries, "Sometimes you even have to be a dick to win."

The combination of that sociable, easy-going, even tempered guy outside the car (the Sophie side) and the uncompromising competitive monster in it (the Jos side) is a big part of his strength. But specifically, it has been front and centre in how brilliantly well he kept everything so cohesive in the '24 campaign when it had many ingredients which could have decimated it.

Further fallout from the early season controversy came as Adrian Newey announced his departure from the team, just prior to Miami in May. Max admitted it was a blow, but still he stayed focused. Because there was much to focus on – this was not going to be the breeze the early races had suggested it was going to be. There was a nagging trait in the car, one which had started to become apparent in last year's towards the end of the season: as they applied more aero load to it, so it was becoming more imbalanced. The front end wasn’t keeping up and it was becoming ever trickier to get the car into its sweet-spot window with set-up.

When McLaren made its breakthrough update in Miami, Red Bull's limitation was exposed. It was no longer superior, merely competitive. Then, as McLaren further developed its aero elasticity to give it a great front end at low speeds without compromising its balance at higher speeds, it began pulling clear of Red Bull. The middle part of Verstappen’s season – Silverstone to Monza – was all about wrestling with the competitive consequences of that as Mercedes surged into form too.

It was at this point that Verstappen began visiting the factory at every possible opportunity, maximising his simulator time, working with the engineers in trying to find a solution to the car's limitations. "His workload has been phenomenal this year," says an admiring Horner. But without surprise, for as he’s also said in the past, "The more pressure you put on, the better he delivers… his mental resilience is the strongest I've ever seen."

Only at Hungary did the strain that the competitive struggle was putting on the relationship become apparent. There, he was having an untypically scrappy race trying to overcome the car’s limitations on a day when both McLaren and Mercedes were faster. His race engineer Gianpiero Lambiase (aka ‘GP’) is a tough but calm character, gives as good as he gets and in that sense is perfect for Max. There’d already been a terse exchange between them about Max giving a place back to Lando Norris after having passed off-track. When GP admonished him for not bringing in his new tyres sympathetically, it triggered the sullen kid who hates to be beaten and he responded with (the more-severe expletives removed), “No mate, don’t give me that bullshit now. You guys gave me this strategy, OK? I’m trying to rescue what’s left.” The strategy was perfectly good for the limitations of the car and was predicated on having newer tyres in the last stint, even though that involved getting undercut initially.

It was the low-point of his season – the breaking point after he’d carried the load for so long. It’s where the competitive fierceness conflicted with the leadership role, and it took a sit-down with Horner and Lambiase before the following race to realign that. They were in the car with him, they emphasised. He wasn’t alone, even if it feels like that in the cockpit sometimes. They felt his pain. He took it on board, as always completely straightforward in his communication. He likes to feel he can call the team out when it’s not delivering just as they can call him out when he’s wrong. This was one of the latter times. But there’s never any lingering resentment. “He’s emotional,” says Horner. “Partly that’s where the performance comes from. He’s incredibly strong-willed. He’s a thoroughbred and can be very sharp when emotions are running high. He doesn’t hold back.”

As that sit-down coincided with Monza, with the car at its absolute nadir, we were witnessing how close the whole thing was to falling down. Had the relationship not been repaired and the car’s shortfalls continued not to be understood, it’s easy to imagine a scenario where the partnership broke down irretrievably. But actually not only did they rally around Max and give him the reassurance he needed to get out of that negative place the Budapest weekend took him to, but Monza then shone a big light on the cause of the car’s woes. Which they could set about addressing. Together, they emerged from the crisis.

As they did that, we saw a classic bit of Verstappen hard-headedness in Austin and particularly Mexico against his title challenger Norris. The niggle between them had started in Austria back in June, when they’d punctured each other’s tyres as Verstappen fended off Norris’s attacks in a way which stretched the sporting regulations. It was like that again in Austin and Mexico and in the latter event his move at Turn 7, with no attempt to make the corner so as to ensure Norris went behind once more, was outrageous. It brought to mind his quote about what you had to be sometimes. That’s where he draws his lines; it’s about prevailing and about how extreme he’s willing to be. No one is ever going to pass him around the outside, he says. Something that was drilled into him as a kid in karting by Jos.

If there is turbulence in the aftermath he’ll not acknowledge it. In fact he seemed mystified about why Norris was so upset afterwards in Austria, that delineation for him between on-track and off rarely so well illustrated. Criticism for the incidents by the media did seem to sting him, though. “He’s more sensitive than you think,” Horner says. “Inevitably he’s aware of the criticism and some of it, I think, is very unfounded. He’s a driver that drives aggressively; he’s an attacking driver. But so was Senna, so was Schumacher, so was Hamilton, and they all came under the same kind of spotlight at various times in their careers.”

It was the criticism he received after his incidents with Norris in Austin and Mexico which particularly bugged him. He perceived them as attacks from countrymen of Norris rather than as attacks against professional fouls. He knows he’s the best out there and if there’s some nudging over the specified lines of regulation on track involved in overcoming the competitive limitations of the car, then he probably feels justified. That, for some, puts him in the same bracket as Michael Schumacher as someone whose achievements have an asterisk against them. But he’s not racing for their approval.

He’s not even racing for achievements. As he says about more titles, “I’m already very proud to win four. Winning one or seven is the same thing. You’re just repeating. It’s nice to repeat but it means the same thing. The first one is what you are chasing, is the whole reason you are there. You’ve done it. After that, it’s just nice and doesn’t really mean as much. What’s been beautiful is that each of the four titles have had different emotions. This one has been the best as we’ve not had the fastest car. But the first one will always mean the most.”

That indifference to the statistics of achievement means he won’t be trapped into chasing numbers that only mean anything to outsiders. But there’ll be a conflict between his love of racing and his stated yearning not to be racing long before he reaches 40 (which is what Lewis Hamilton used to say too!). That conflict will surely play a crucial part in what he decides to do with the rest of his life. He’s never known any other life, of course, as the boy brought up in the circus. 

As a driver he’s one of the all-time greats, a more formidable all-rounder even than Fernando Alonso, faster, more extreme. But similar. Alonso is the nearest driver in overall traits. But even the great Alonso bows down to the level Max has attained. The number of times Max has not maximised his car since joining Red Bull in 2016 can be counted on the fingers of one hand. Is he the outright fastest over a lap? Often he is, yes. But this is a misunderstood concept. A driver can only get to the ceiling of his ability if the car’s traits, the way it is balanced, allow him to. There are many reasons why it won’t be, especially in this era of thermally sensitive tyres. 

But let’s assume every driver on the grid was magically given a fully competitive car, each perfectly balanced to match the outer edge of their specific style, in how each driver was wired up physiologically. Would Max be the fastest in qualifying? Possibly not. If it wasn’t him, you’d be looking for Charles Leclerc, possibly Lewis Hamilton at the height of his powers. But in the grind of a race and the even grittier grind of a season, would Verstappen in those circumstances prevail? Almost certainly he would, yes.

There’s no weakness. Schumacher had weaknesses, Senna too. Alain Prost was as rounded as Max but not as quick. Before then, we are heavily into the dangerous era – the years which killed Gilles Villeneuve or Jochen Rindt or Jim Clark and mortally wounded Stirling Moss, drivers who, like Senna, could conjure things that left their contemporaries shaking their heads in wonder. None of the current stars, Max included, quite have that. But Max can maximise every situation with unerring consistency like Fangio, like Clark, like Stewart. And if the peaks of his raw speed are not quite as miraculous as some of the past, he runs close to that almost all of the time, probably more than anyone before.

He’ll be missed when he’s gone, when the rewards no longer offset the energy draining irritations.

[wannab-urs]

Never Have I Ever

Summary: You and Dieter play never have I ever and it gets spicy. Warnings: MDNI | 18+ | sub!dieter, dom!reader, alcohol consumption (not during the smut), pet names, SMUT, discussion of safe words (not used), referring to your dildo as your cock, aftercare. WC: 1.7k A/N: Written for @yxtkiwiyxt Kiwi’s Never Have I Ever challenge (open til March 1) and for my own Dom that Middle Aged Man Campaign (closed). I hope you love it <3 Thanks to @pedgito and @murder-wife for beta reading!!

Dieter Bravo Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

“Okay, okay, what’s the next card?” 

Dieter grabs a card off the stack and holds it up, squinting to read it in the low light of your living room. 

“Never have I ever… acted out my sexual fantasy,” Dieter reads. He blushes but doesn’t take a drink. You knock back a shot of whiskey before looking at him incredulously. 

“Really Di?”

Dieter flushes even harder, if possible, and looks at the ground.

“Well what is your fantasy? I find it hard to believe you haven’t acted it out, to be honest.” 

He brushes a hand through his hair and stares at the floor as he answers. “It’s not that I haven’t acted out fantasies before I guess, but like my main one? Never.” 

“I’m dying to know what could be so crazy you’ve never acted it out.” 

“It’s not that crazy… I just want a woman to… you know… like… top me?” 

“Top you or dom you? Or both?” The whiskey is making you bold. Dieter is a friend (with benefits of course) and you normally wouldn’t push him so hard on this or admit what you’re about to admit. “My sexual fantasy just so happens to be topping a man.”

Dieter looks up at you then, looking embarrassed and more than a little excited. “You drank on this one… So you would know what you’re doing?” 

“I would.”

“Do you wanna have sex with me? Like right now?” 

“Oh Di, you’re wasted… I’m wasted. You know the rules.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Tomorrow then?” His puppy dog eyes meet yours and you almost cave right then. 

“Tomorrow,” you smile at him. 

You wake up sweating, sunlight streaming into the room and heating it up plus Dieter’s body practically on top of you. He’s a spider monkey in his sleep, always clinging onto you with all four limbs when you stay over. You push him off of you a little bit and you take in his sleeping face. 

He’s handsome always, but especially when he’s asleep. A loose curl is dangling over his forehead and some of the lines in his face are smoothed out – it’s the only time he’s relaxed without being high. You press a kiss to his cheek and he stirs, eyes blinking open sleepily. 

“Good morning,” he says with a dopey smile. 

He leans up and kisses you chastely, but you deepen the kiss immediately. His tongue slides into your mouth, slow and exploratory like you haven’t done this a hundred times. You pull back and kiss the tip of his nose.

“You still up for what we talked about last night?” You half whisper, afraid he’ll chicken out. 

“Please?”

“Off to a great start already, baby boy.” Dieter blushes and drops his eyes from yours, embarrassed and pleased by the pet name all at once. “We’re gonna use the stoplight system for our safeword. Do you know what that is?”

“Yeah! I use it when I’m the one in charge.”

“Great. I also want you to refer to me as ma’am during the scene, is that okay?”

“Perfect… ma’am.” 

“Good boy. Let’s get started then.”

You push him down into the mattress and climb on top of him, straddling his waist. “I want you to keep your hands to yourself, either on the bed or above your head holding the headboard. Is that okay?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He’s so eager to please, his eyes wide and his lips in a perfect pout. 

You kiss him then, pushing your tongue into his mouth, taking control of the kiss entirely. He’s left to take what you give him, and to his credit, he doesn’t fight you for dominance. You kiss down his jaw to his neck, trailing your lips over his collarbone and down to his chest. His hands twitch by his sides, but he doesn’t move them. 

You drag your lips down until you meet his sweats, then pull back so you can strip them off. His gorgeous cock bobs up to his stomach, already hard and leaking precum. You take him in your hand and lick from root to tip, sucking the head into your mouth. His hands fly up to the headboard, white knuckle gripping it to keep from touching you. 

You pull off him and tell him to stay just like that while you grab lube from the bedside table. He obeys perfectly and you have to pause to collect yourself. His immediate submission is so fucking hot. You crawl back onto the bed and settle between his parted thighs. 

“Do you still want me to fuck you, baby boy? It’s okay if not.” 

“Yes, please, ma’am.”

You smile at him and coat your fingers in lube. One finger circles his hole while you take his dick in your mouth again. You push him to the back of your throat and swallow around him until he’s buried in your throat. He whimpers and you moan around his cock as you push one finger into his hole. He’s always been vocal, but whimpers are few and far between. 

Dieter starts pushing back against your fingers, fucking in and out of your mouth. You pin his hip down with your free hand and pull off of him. “Stay still, sweetheart.” 

Dieter whines but stops fucking himself on your finger. You add a second finger and start stretching him as you take his cock back in your mouth. The sounds pouring from his mouth are sinful and you’re dripping wet for him. You’re trying not to let on just how turned on you are. His balls start to draw up and you quickly remove your fingers from his ass and your mouth from his cock. He whines but doesn’t protest. 

“Can’t have you coming this early, now can we?”

Dieter shakes his head pitifully. You let him calm down and then repeat your actions, winding him up again only to pull off him completely and wait for him to calm down. You want to hear him beg. And you aren’t disappointed. 

“Please, please just fuck me, please. I can’t take it anymore.”

 You swat his thigh. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”  

“Ma’am. Please ma’am, I need you.” He’s so pretty when he begs, you really can’t resist. 

You strip and stuff your panties in his mouth. His muffled whines are even hotter now. 

“You’re being such a good boy for me, baby. I’m gonna make you feel so good.” He looks blissed out at the praise. “If you need to safe word, you can move your hands to take out the panties, okay?”

He nods to show he gets it and you climb off the bed and get your strap from the nightstand. You coat it in lube and tell Dieter to turn over and stick his ass in the air. He complies immediately and you admire his ass and the way his swollen cock dangles between his thighs. He’s so pretty. 

You get behind him on your knees and slowly push the dildo into his hole. He whines long and low, only slightly muffled by the panties in his mouth. You pull out and push back in deeper, working your way into him slow and easy. When you bottom out, you both groan. Him at the full feeling and you at the way he looks stretched around your cock. 

You hear him mumble “please,” through his gag and it turns you on so much you can barely think straight. You pull out of him to the tip of your dildo and snap your hips forward, fucking him hard and fast. 

“Spit out the panties, I wanna hear you.” 

He complies, whining and begging for you to let him come. “Please, ma’am. Please I need to come, you feel so good.” 

“Tell me when you’re close, baby.” 

He whines but doesn’t stop you yet. You slow down and make sure to rub at the bundle of nerves inside him with every thrust, slowly grinding your cock into it. He starts crying and you think you could come just from that alone. 

“I’m close! Please, ma’am I’m so close, please let me come.” 

You pull out of him completely and he collapses to the mattress, whining and crying. 

“Turn over baby boy, I promised I’d make you feel good didn’t I? You trust me?”

“Yes ma’am, I trust you.” He turns over and spreads his thighs, gripping onto the headboard in anticipation. 

“Good boy, color?”

“Green, ma’am.”

You take off your strap and toss it on the floor to deal with later. 

‘I’m gonna ride you now, baby. You come whenever you’re ready.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

“So polite,” you stroke his cheek with your thumb and drag it across his plump lips. He takes the digit into his mouth and sucks. You climb on top of him and line him up with your hole before sinking all the way down. You moan in unison, you at the stretch and him at your tight wet heat. 

You place your hands on his thighs behind you and start bouncing on his cock, taking him deep and fast. You’re just as wound up as he is and desperate to come. You bring one hand to your clit, rubbing in furious circles to keep up with your pace. Dieter plants his feet and starts to fuck up into you and you don’t even stop him, too close to coming harder than you ever have in your life to stop him now. 

You feel the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter, and with one final snap of Dieter’s hips you come apart, moaning his name. The way you get impossibly tighter around him sends Dieter over the edge as well and he fills you so full you feel it leaking out of you around him. You collapse onto his chest, breathing heavily. He wraps his arms around you and nuzzles his face into your hair. 

“That was… so fucking amazing,” Dieter whispers. 

“Yeah, it really was.” You push yourself off of him and roll off the bed. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

You head to the bathroom and wet a washcloth, cleaning between your thighs. You get a fresh one and take it out to Di, gently cleaning his spent cock. You lie down next to him and pull his head onto your chest. 

“You did so good for me, baby,” you tell him as you run your fingers through his curls. He nuzzles into your chest and wraps an arm around you, falling asleep with that dopey grin of his on his face. 

[messrmoonyy]

- Amor vincit omnia

Marcus Acacius x Fem!reader

Summary: Marcus returns from another military campaign and finds you tense with the unrest building in Rome, thanks to your brothers blood thirsty ways. And so he helps take your mind off it.

A/N- this purely self indulgent. Marcus has me by the throat. He has done since trailer 1. Tough men who melt for their woman!!! I am so here for that. Watching the movie and seeing how he was with Lucilla? I was a goner. So. Here’s this.

Warnings- 18+ | likely inaccurate/ooc Marcus as this is my first time writing for him. And writing for this time period. Not mentioned but kind of implied age gap. Smut: unprotected p in v, slight fingering( wc-4.5k )

Being born into royalty guaranteed you a life of luxury. Stability. No need to worry or want for anything. But that didn’t mean you were happy.

Your brothers had all the power the empire had to offer. And you? Very little.

They kept you hidden away for the most part. Even your quarters in the palace were on the complete opposite side to your brothers. Like a prisoner in your own home. Kept away. Out of sight. You couldn’t leave unless they allowed it, and even in that rare occurrence you were not to be let out of sight.

They brought you out for appearances sakes. Let the people of Rome see you at the colosseum from time to time. Let your face been seen to greet people at their frequent feasts, eat with them but remain silent. And then be sent away before they indulged in their hedonistic pleasures for the evening.

But your appearances being at only prestigious events, meant you mingled with the nobility at times. And along with that, had come to know Romes beloved General.

You’d been enamoured from day one. The first time you’d gotten to actually talk to him, the way he had looked at you like you were one the goddesses before him. The way he wanted to know about you. Listen. Had sat with you for what felt like hours as you gushed over how much you adored Virgil and Catullus. And though your brothers desire to hide you away kept you lonely for the most part, it also meant they rarely had their eye on you when you were inside palace walls. Which allowed for many a secret rendezvous.

Like the one you were presently waiting on.

Stood in the large arched window of your chambers, looking at the gardens below, the only place you could really roam freely. The flora bright and lush even in the twilight. Flowers that you couldn’t even name, buds and seeds brought back amongst the many stolen items from the Generals travels. His conquests under command of your brothers.

One of those conquests that was being celebrated presently. Past the gardens you could see the city alight with celebrations still. The rich throwing parties in their homes and gardens, whilst Romes lesser subjects suffered. The fires in the streets there to keep warm, not to light up lavish parties and celebrations. Celebrations like the ones presently in the palace. Which you cared very little for, but it did allow for a much easier meeting with your lover, as he was already inside palace walls. Eating. Drinking. Dancing maybe. Making himself seen for appearances sake when really all he was really waiting for was to get to you.

All he’d have to do is slip through the crowds and disappear from sight. Take the well practiced walk to your chambers. And hide away with you for the night.

And so. Eventually you heard a knock on your door. Firm and short. Then the sound of someone entering without being given vocal permission.

You didn’t need to turn around to know it was him. No one else entered your room without asking first. Your staff wouldn’t dare, even though you were always kind to them. Considerate. Far gentler than most nobles would deem necessary. They still knew their place. And they knew to obey you.

But Marcus knew he could enter without permission. He had done it often enough. Though he would always wait by the door once inside for you to speak. Acknowledge him. Wait to be fully welcomed into your space.

You were silent for a few short moments. Eyes still transfixed on the lights in the distance past the palace gates.

“ Rome is alight with joy at your return “ you finally spoke up, eyes still watching the glow of the lights in the city. Listening to the sounds of the happy crowds as they danced and cheered. Chanted and sang in drunken joy. Mingling with the cry’s of those that begged for food.

Events like this could distract them from the utter misery most of them were suffering each day. But not completely.

The tensions in Rome were rising. And it made you uneasy.

“ unnecessary celebrations “ Marcus murmured. He never had liked the fanfare. The attention. He was a soldier to his bones, not a fancy nobleman who liked to flash his privilege around and indulge in such festivities.

“ my brothers don’t seem to agree “ you responded. If you focussed enough you could hear the music somewhere in the palace “ through they will take any possibility to throw a party “

You heard Marcus stepping a little closer but he didn’t say anything for a few moments.

“ I was expecting them to bring you out “

“ I told them I was unwell and not up to it “ it had been a lie. But you didn’t want to go down there and force a smile onto your face. Sit still and pretty, when your mind was elsewhere. And had been for weeks “ I sense unrest in the near future “ you said quietly. Eyes still fixed on the celebrations “ it makes me uneasy “

“ you say that as if there is not always a lingering unrest in the empire. Men will always want to be gods. Emperors will always want more. More. More my darling “ Marcus said. His voice low and collected. It made you turn your head a little to the side to glance his way.

“ maybe so. But it is different this time Marcus “ you spoke, voice a little firmer as if to make him listen. Understand your lingering fears for what was beginning to boil under the surface of Romes imperial strength.

He stood there in a state of silence for a moment, a hand twisting one of the rings on his fingers as he seemed to take in what you said. Then, he let out another short exhale before speaking once more.

“ I am not sure of what’s about to transpire.” He admitted a little bluntly “ But I’m starting to sense it too. Like a storm, just waiting to happen. The people are starving. They sleep with empty bellies whilst emperors gorge themselves.”

He looked over at you, a concerned look apparent in his expression. He stepped in closer once again. He was within touching distance now. And he spoke again, his voice becoming more hushed like there was someone else there with you. Always scared someone may be listening in. The walls would always have ears “ It worries me. Greatly ”

“ me too “ you admitted quietly. If it came down to it and the people revolted. Or the senate conspired… you would be defenceless. Not only were you a woman. But the sister of the emperors. The emperors that more and more people in Rome were starting to despise. Would you be used as an example? Sent to the colosseum? Beheaded and your head staked outside the palace doors? There was a never ending list of how it would end for you. And none of the outcomes were particularly pretty.

Rome enjoyed punishing those it felt deserved it. Whether they truly did or not.

“ but it does no good to dwell on such thoughts “ you said after another few moments of silence. Fidgeting slightly with the fine material of your stola.

Marcus was behind you now. If you thought hard enough you could swear you could feel his body heat through the gold of his ceremonial armour.

“ so you do not think of the possibilities?”

“ no “ you said maybe a little too fast. It made a soft chuckle escape his lips and his hands landed on your shoulders. His touch was like magic. Like it has shattered the tense feeling not only in the air around you but in your limbs.

“ I know you too well my lady “ that made you smile. Just a little. A small twitch in your lips

“ that you do “ you smiled softly, turning your head to brush your cheek softly to his fingers. He squeezed your shoulders softly, a silent request for you to turn around. And you did, tilting your head slightly to the side as you looked up at him. Your hand coming up to scratch softly at his beard.

“ and you must know if things should collapse in the city… if I should- “ he sighed and cut himself off for a moment. You got the idea he was planning something. Something he wouldn’t, or couldn’t, tell you. But you trusted him implicitly. And you knew that if he wasn’t telling you it was for good reason. That when the time came he would tell you what you needed to know “ just know my lady, my loyalty does not lie with your brothers “ he said after a few beats of silence “ my loyalty, as it always has, lies with you “

You would’ve known that without him having to say it. But it was always nice to hear. Especially in a time where you felt so utterly and completely helpless. Alone.

But it also made you realise how much your time may be precious. Your time with Marcus specifically. If he was planning something, something big. It would be risky. Worse than any barbarian filled, untamed part of the empire. If he were to try conspire-

“ I do not wish to discuss it anymore “ you said and ran your fingertips over the cool gold of the laurels on his head “ war and death. What is morally right and wrong… it makes my head ache so deeply “

Marcus was a good distraction. He always was. He kept you sane.

“ and such a pretty head. What a crime for it to come to any pain “ his fingers skimmed some of your hair behind your ear, that gorgeous smile of his on his face that only you really got to see. It made you so weak in the knees. The way his eyes crinkled, those beautiful little lines that formed in the corners. You laughed softly at his words, always so appreciative. Complimentary.

You didn’t know what was going on with the tensions building in rome. You didn’t know how much longer Geta and Caracalla could keep their tentative grasp on things. But one thing you did know. Was that Marcus Acacius was devoted to you entirely.

And you to him.

“ I did miss you greatly “ you whispered after a few moments, realising you hadn’t mentioned it “ each time you are away… I… I am sure I spend the majority of my day on my knees praying to the gods “

Marcus’ large hands moved then to gently cup your face, his calloused palms rough against your perfectly smooth skin in a way that shouldn’t have felt as nice as it did.

“ you know I will always come back to you my lady. Always “ he murmured, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks “ never, and I mean never think I would leave you willingly. The gods themselves would have to rip me from your side, and even then I wouldn't stop fighting to come back to you."

You smiled softly and let your eyes close for a moment, your hands sliding up his arms to gently wrap your fingers around his wrists. Like he may vanish any second

“ oh how I missed you “ you whispered.

Marcus looked down at you with a mix of fondness and sorrow in his eyes. His sweet, lonely, girl.

As his head dipped down you instantly tipped your head up to meet him, his angular nose brushing against yours for a moment like he was waiting for permission to kiss you. He didn’t need it. But he always wanted it

“ kiss me my darling “ you whispered, lips so close to his they brushed as you spoke. And in a beat he granted your request. His lips capturing yours. It was like every drop of tension immediately vanished from your body, stepping closer to him so that your chest pressed to the solid force that was his.

He always kissed you like you were delicate. And he’d confessed such thoughts too. Like he was too brutish and strong. That he didn’t have a place kissing someone as gentle as you.

But it never took much convincing to urge him on.

You let yourself melt into it, let him hold your face so tenderly as he kissed away your fears and your stress. Even if just for tonight.

You had missed him. Missed this. The familiar tickly, scratchy feel of his moustache and beard against your soft skin. The way his large hands that were so stained in blood, used to such violence and anger, being soft. Gentle. Tender as they slipped into your hair. Twisting the strands around his fingers to anchor himself to you.

“ take me to bed “ you whispered against his lips when you both had no choice but to pull back slightly, breaths mingling in short soft pants “ give me the tender affections i so deeply crave “

“ you know I could never deny you my lady “ he murmured with a smile that made a small, soft laugh bubble past your lips. It was true. He never would. You were the only woman, only person period, who could make this man weak in the knees. He’d drop to the floor and kiss your feet in utter submission if you asked it of him.

He scooped you up into his arms with a smile, carrying you across the room to gently deposit you on your bed. You looked up at him with a coy smile as you lay amongst the plush linens.

From your spot you watched as he made swift work of removing the outer layers of his ceremonial armour. Watching a man who was conditioned to need to be protected at all times, need to be strong and prepared, remove the precious clothes… it always felt like a privilege.

You giggled softly when he climbed onto the bed with you, moving over your body in just his tunic now, propping himself above you on his elbows.

“ my beautiful one, like a goddess laying in wait for me here “ he murmured, brushing the backs of his fingers to your cheek “ as tempting as Venus herself “

“ I am no goddess my darling “ you whispered, leaning slightly into his touch as your eyes locked onto his.

He kissed you again. Like you were a source of air. And his large hands wandered, the fine fabric of your stola being pushed up your body, then over your head. His hands and lips everywhere. Mapping out every inch of your skin as if he didn’t already have it committed to memory.

“ always so soft “ he murmured as his lips descended between the valley of your breasts, your back arching up as if to chase the feeling even more.

“ let me feel your skin on mine “ you whispered. Hands weakly tugging on his tunic. He didn’t need to be told twice. And it soon had joined your stola on the floor, a blissful sigh leaving your lips as he pressed his body to yours. It felt like being reawakened. Like the shackles keeping your mind so locked in a sense of fear and unrest… shattered. The feel of his war ravaged body against yours. So soft and pristine. Never having done a days hardship in your life. It felt… right. So unbearably right.

“ my little dove. So perfect and all mine “ he whispered as he kissed at your neck, his hand sliding down your body. Following the curves and the lines, the soft feminine dip of your waist and curve of your hip. Tracing a gentle path down until it settled between your thighs, fingers brushing through the soft thatch of curls and then along your slit.

“ your body is already preparing itself for me “ he murmured next to your ear, his thick fingers gliding through the slippery slickness between your thighs. It was a little embarrassing. All you’d done was kiss, feel his hands running over your body. And yet you were soaked.

“ you see how much I have missed you?” You whispered, your eyes locked onto his as he lifted his face from your neck.

“ I missed you too my darling “ he whispered, and you whined softly as one of his fingers gently pushed into your welcoming warmth “ every night I lay sleeping on that ship I dreamt of being inside you once again “ his words made your cheeks flush, the thought of him on his way to a brutal battle. But thinking of you. Wanting to be home with you.

His fingers that were usually covered in blood or dust or sweat. Now dripping with the essence of you. The metallic scent of ichor nowhere to be found, just the heady scent of your arousal clinging to his fingers instead.

“ Marcus “ you whimpered softly as his fingers slowly pumped in and out of you, the soft wet sounds mingling with your breathy pants. So weak from something as simple as his hand.

“ shh I know little dove “ he murmured and kissed your forehead. Your cheek “ your body always welcomes me so warmly. So readily. How I dreamed of being in this moment again with you “ his words were like honey, your body melting into the bed with their combination of his touch. He pleasured you as naturally as he held his sword. A man able to kill and give pleasure as if they were one and the same. A rigid dichotomy you didn’t wish to think too much about in that moment.

“ I dreamed of you too “ you whimpered “ every night I wished you were laying beside me “ he smiled and curled his fingers up, making a gasp escape your lips and your hips buck.

“ such filthy thoughts for a princess “

When he deemed you prepared enough, he withdrew his fingers. Sucking your essence from them in a way that never failed to make your cheeks burn.

“ the filthy one here is you my love “ you whispered, making him chuckle as he settled between your legs, using his knee to nudge your thighs apart, you let out a steady exhale. You could feel the heavy weight of his hard length against your leg and it made you chew on your bottom lip.

“ are you ready for me little dove?” He whispered, gently brushing some hair back from your face. He always gazed upon you like you were the most beautiful creature.

“ yes. Yes I am ready “ you replied and turned your head to kiss the palm of his hand that had settled against your cheek “ please Marcus. I have waited so long. So patiently. Do not make me wait a moment longer “

His eyes lingered a little longer. Just to be sure. Always wanting to be sure. Before wrapping his hand around his throbbing length and notching it at your weeping entrance.

You whined and arched your back when he pushed forward. Your body had missed him, missed the stretch. The weight. The fullness. And it welcomed him home with a practiced familiarity. Like the space inside of you was carved out specifically for him and him alone.

You watched his face intently, a hand on his cheek to take in every single emotion. The way his brow furrowed as soon as he felt your body envelope him, slowly sliding into you and stretching your walls so perfectly around him. A deep moan falling past his lips.

“ you feel so good. Always so good my flower " He whispered, his tone deep and husky. He knew you took no other lovers. Unlike your brothers that seemed to be making their way through every single concubine in Rome. Your body was his. For him. His eyes his hands. And so it had been a while since you’d last taken him. Since before he’d left for Numidia. And he knew this. So he was even more gentle than usual "Just a bit more. You can take all of me, I know you can." He gently encouraged you, his hand moving to gently push at your thigh. Opening you up just that little bit more to him, his eyes drifting down briefly to watch the way your body eagerly accepted him in.

“ I’m okay “ you whispered, a shaky exhale leaving your lips “ I can take it “ you agreed, urging him to pepper your face in soft gentle kisses. He never wanted your discomfort.

“ that’s my sweet girl “ he murmured and kept pushing on until his pelvis was flush to yours, the soft curls at his base tickling your skin in the most delicious way “ there we go. That’s it”

He remained still for a few moments, your eyes locked on his as you took deep and slow breaths. Adjusting. Your body reacquainting itself with his.

“ ready my flower?” He whispered and kissed your cheek. You simply gave him a nod, your hand sliding over his strong bicep and squeezing softly.

He remained still a moment longer, then gently began to move within you. Every thrust was slow and deep, almost teasing in nature. Slow, long, drags. Pulling out almost completely before sliding back in at an agonisingly slow speed "Good, little dove... That's my girl..." he whispered, his voice still reassuring and gentle. One large hand shifting to gently knead at your chest, trying to relax you as much as humanly possible " you take me so well “

Soft, sweet moans escaped your lips as he settled into a steady but oh so deep pace. Your hips already beginning to ache at having to stretch so wide to accommodate his broad body, but it was a welcomed ache. It made you feel alive in a way you only felt with him.

“ oh Marcus “ you gasped your hand slipping to grasp the back of his neck, fingers tangling in the curls there that were already damp with with a sheen of sweat that was glowing on his skin.

"Oh gods..." He groaned, closing his eyes at the blissful sensations you offered him . The tight heat, the sound of your breathy little moans. He knew and you knew that they didn't always have time for slow, passionate lovemaking, but he was enjoying every single moment of it. He didn't want it to end. The general wanted it to last forever. As did you.

But there was also an underlying desperation lingering between the two of you. Of how much you had missed each other. How desperately you needed each other.

And his hand moved away from your chest to grasp your free hand, interlocking his fingers with yours and pinning it down against your bed sheets.

“ Marcus “ you whimpered in some pathetic kind of way. A plea. For more. More. Always more. More of him. More of the two of you. Just. More.

“ I know my darling. I know. I’ve got you sweet one “ he whispered and readjusted his position, thrusting into you with a little more urgency. Harder. Deeper.

He began groaning louder, letting himself go in a way he had once confessed he never had with previous lovers. Always wanting it done quick. Emotionless. But not with you, never like that with you. He let his walls down. It was more than just a means to an end with you. It was special. Passionate. It was love.

His hips continued to push hard against yours, your body jostling with each deep thrust he granted you "There you go, my love. Look at you taking all of me." He praised, holding onto your hand tightly like he was scared you’d vanish "You don't know how divine you look right now..." he murmured into her ear, dropping his head to pepper your neck with kisses. Careful not to mark you, gods forbid your brothers should pay attention long enough to see “ the most ethereal creature “

“ I missed you so “ you whimpered, your arms tight around his neck to hold him close “ I missed you “

“ and I you my love… you feel so perfect… so tight. So wet. Perfect for me my flower “ he murmured against your ear, his teeth playfully nipping at your soft skin " I missed you my dove..." he breathed your familiar pet name like a prayer as he made love to you, every movement of his hips bringing you both closer to ecstasy. And ecstasy you knew would be more earth shattering than ever after so long without his touch.

He whispered softly in your ear , his lips grazing your skin. Praising you. Loving you. Over and over "I've missed this, my love. I've missed being inside you, feeling your body against mine. I promise to never to leave you again" you knew it was a empty promise. That he would leave again. That the emperors would call him away.

But you didn’t call him out on the fact. Too lost in him. The feelings he gave you.

“ I love you my darling “ you whimpered as the familiar tension started to grow deep in your body, with every thrust hitting the most incredible spot inside you. It made tears spring in your eyes. But not out of sadness or pain. Out of utter joy and happiness at having him back in your arms even for a short period.

“ and I… you little dove “ he panted softly, his head lifting as his eyes locked on yours. He knew your body well. Knew the signs of your impending climax and he kissed your lips before speaking again “ you’re close sweet one “

You nodded and grasped at his face to keep his eyes locked with yours “ finish with me?” You pleaded “ please “ he nodded and kissed you again, picking up his pace ever so slightly, one hand pushing your thigh up as if to let him get impossibly deeper.

And a few more deep strokes had you stumbling head first over the edge. Your orgasm so blinding you were certain it made your vision blur. Every nerve in your body sparking like hot coals. And the way your walls spasmed and clenched down around Marcus was clearly his undoing too. Delivering one final, deep thrust before he groaned loudly, spilling his seed into you in a way that you would never tire of. No matter how risky the situation was.

Your body trembled as your climax finally dissipated. Going weak and boneless as you sunk into the linens below you, panting softly as you still clung to Marcus. Who was fighting the urge to just drop down against you too.

But he carefully rolled off you, pulling you against his side immediately. A soft kiss to your forehead and a large hand stroking down your spine. You were certain this was what pure bliss felt like. Maybe you’d died and fallen into the elysian fields. Peace and bliss and love.

“ I love you “ he whispered and kissed your head again as you lay composing yourself against his chest “ and I meant what I said little dove…. My loyalties lie with you. And if- “

“ shh “ you said softly and lifted your head, placing a finger to his lips “ not now. Let us just enjoy this moment together “ you didn’t know how many of these moments you would get now. They had always been special and each moment was to be cherished. But even more so now.

You didn’t know what the future held for Rome. Or for you. But you knew Marcus would be at your side. And that was enough for now.

[thecharacterchronicler]

Snow Lands On Top (Pt. 2) || Coriolanus Snow X Reader || Smut

Outline: It’s the first round of the presidential elections and Coriolanus Snow’s results aren’t as good as he hoped. Fortunately, you’re there to give him an outlet for his frustration.

Word count: 3’081

Warnings: pregnancy (TTC), marriage of convenience, very explicit ROUGH smut.

Author’s note: I wrote this as a second part to There Will Come A Ruler, since a few people asked for it. I also wanted to thank you all for all the love I received since I started posting on this page a few days ago, it means the world to me! Still blows my mind that so many people bothered reading what I wrote! ♡

(( Part 1 - There Will Come A Ruler )) - (( Part 3 - Insatiable )) - (( Part 4 - The Bitter Taste Of My Fury )) - (( Part 5 - Craving ))

It only was your second time stepping inside the tall skyscraper that hosted your husband’s office - and headquarters. When the elevator doors opened in front of you, you instantly felt trapped, probably because the lobby was more crowded than what you expected. Even if something inside you was screaming for you to turn around and run the other way instead of losing yourself in this den of vipers, you had no choice but to do what duty required of you. You plastered a smile on your face, the one too bright and too joyful to let how miserable you really felt show, and entered the crowd, recognizing some familiar faces and greeting strangers pretending you also knew who they were. If they had been invited today to Coriolanus’s office, it meant they were important to him so you had to consider them as important to you as well.

“Hippity hoppity, there you are, little dove.” A voice sounded behind you. You heard it as clear as day despite the ambiant noise all around you, and a cold shiver ran down your spine. You turned to face who it belonged too, smiling even brighter to conceal the uneasiness you always felt around such an eccentric character.

“Volumnia Gaul, it’s good to see you again.”

“It’s been too long. But I suppose you’ve been quite busy trying to fulfill your duties.” She said, throwing a knowing glance down to your stomach.

“Of course, there’s never a dull moment since I became Coriolanus’ wife.” You smiled, in yet another attempt to conceal your lies. You had been miserable and bored during most of the year you’ve been married, and although you were good at acting by now, the way Dr Gaul stared at you made you feel like she was seeing right through you.

“You should bring her to the front, people need to see you together.” She said, looking up to someone behind you.

You felt him before seeing him, his hand finding the small of your back and his tall frame appearing next to you, your shoulder brushing against his side. You lifted your gaze up to look at your husband, but he didn’t look down at you, focusing his attention on his mentor instead, the only thing letting you know that he had noticed you was his hand pressed against your lower back.

“Of course.” He agreed, with a nod. Dr Gaul’s eyes landed on you once more, something unsettling in the way she suddenly stared at you.

“My offer to examine her still stands, if you want me to run a few tests on her and figure out why you haven’t conceived yet.”

Your blood went cold. Everybody knew how deranged Volumnia Gaul could sometimes be, she was as cruel as she was extravagant and it only seemed to get worse the older she got. She had left her place as the head gamemaker of the Hunger Games to Coriolanus and had retired from her scientific career, but she still ran bizarre experiments in her lab, for her own enjoyment… And you definitely didn’t want to be one of them.

“It won’t be necessary.” Your husband assured her, allowing you to breathe again with relief. “It’s not her fault but mine, I’ve been too busy with the games and my campaign to properly invest time into expanding our family.”

Dr Gaul was about to reply something but was cut off by the sound of the television increasing in the speakers. Coriolanus guided you in front of the large window in his office’s lobby, as everyone seemed to step out of your path.

He was smiling, handsome as ever in his dark red suit and you smiled too, pressing yourself closer to him when you noticed the cameras filming you from across the room. It must have been a perfect picture to showcase to the entire nation, a seemingly loving couple standing in front of the nicest view of the Capitol, surrounded by all their supporters as the reporters on TV were about to announce the winner of this round of the elections.

All eyes were on the television as the results appeared on the screen. You held your breath, waiting for Coriolanus’ percentage to go up but it only did a brief jump and then stopped, largely losing to his opponents. You turned to look at him, waiting for a reaction, and so did everyone else present in the room.

True to himself, he held his head high, standing even straighter as he remained stoic, not a single change of the expression on his face to betray his disappointment. But, even if you couldn’t say that you knew your husband that well, you still knew that he must have been crushed by such a bad result. He had worked so hard for this, put up such a show for the people and so did you, his defeat felt like your own.

It startled you when you felt his fingers digging into the tender flesh of your hip. He was tense, you could feel it , but he was still smiling at the crowd, gracious in defeat. He even spoke a few words, only disturbed for a brief second when he noticed the cameras packing up instead of transmitting his speech, the viewers probably more interested in hearing what the victors of this round had to say rather than listen to your husband.

Coriolanus kept his tight grip on you, as if holding you was the only thing that could keep him from snapping. Some of his supporters came to him to offer him some words of encouragement in replacement of congratulations and he handled each conversation with polite manners.

“At least if you don’t win, we get to keep you as head gamermaker.” One lady said, trying to highlight the good in the situation but Coriolanus only gave her a tight smile in return.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out but maybe it just shows you’re better at working on the Games, they’ve been delightful to watch ever since you took over.”

“At least if you don’t have to keep campaigning you can focus your efforts on the next Hunger Games and come up with a show even better than last year’s !”

The very reason of his bad ranking at the election kept being thrown to his face, people simply preferred him as a game maker, so that they could be sure to be entertained by Coriolanus’ genius ideas to make the show an annual event rather than see him becoming president and be bored in front of their television once a year. The other thing that didn’t work out for him, as you understood, was the fact that he didn’t seem as relatable to the people since he didn’t have a family to care for and protect while his opponent, Festus Creed, already had three kids with his wife Persephone. Maybe they loved each other…

Once people were done offering their sympathy, you felt Coriolanus’ warm hand leave you, your skin a bit sore from the intensity of his previous grip on you. He rushed through the crowd, even ignoring a man who tried to address him and went to his office, shutting the door behind him.

Nobody seemed to notice, nor care, that your husband had felt the need to isolate himself but you did for some reason. Maybe it was because you knew how hard it was to keep smiling and nodding at everyone when deep down you just wanted to scream and run away. In the crowd, you met Dr Gaul’s gaze who had also noticed, watching you with careful attention, as if she was waiting to judge the way you’d react.

So of course, you smiled. At her. At everyone.

You followed the same path as he did, stopping by the man who had attempted to speak to him so that he could speak to you instead and maybe ease off his vexation at being ignored by your husband. As hard as it may be to keep going once the facade of perfection crumpled, it was necessary - now even more than before - to make sure all his allies continued supporting him.

Once he seemed satisfied by the small talk you shared, you kept moving, trying to seem as relaxed and detached as you could, until you had the opportunity to slip inside the office, mostly unnoticed by the crowd still mingling in the lobby.

“Coriolanus, I…” You started but stopped yourself when you noticed all the files scattered on the ground. Your husband was leaning over his desk, his back turned to you and you could see him breathing deeply and rapidly, his shoulders moving up and down with tension.

Suddenly, he threw the remaining of what was on his desk down, with one long motion. More files flew up in the air before landing on the ground, a glass container of pens and pencils broke on the wooden floor and shattered to pieces, flying off in every direction like a tiny bomb explosion. His desk light also tumbled to the floor, making a noise you were sure others had heard too.

You had the instinct to take a step back, your hand finding the knob again in order to retreat far away from his wrath... But, when he buried his face in his hands, he suddenly felt a lot less threatening and a lot more vulnerable, making you decide to stay.

“You might have lost this time but maybe it’ll work out next time.” You told him, softly. You wanted to comfort him, as had everyone else already, but the way he dropped his hands and looked at you with a dark glare made you question your decision.

“Always so positive.”He stated, bitterly, as if he was disgusted by your hopefulness. It wasn’t often that you got to see him without a charming smile on his face and a confident posture, in fact, it was the very first time you had been able to read him so easily, his emotions on display exactly as he was feeling them.

“It’s just one set back, for now they think you are too young, too good at your job, but maybe you’ll be elected next time. Maybe it’ll be in ten years. Maybe in thirty. But you will be president.” He shook his head, a cynical smirk on his lips.

“What makes you so sure ?”

“… Because Snow lands on top.”

His eyes darkened and he launched himself at you, crossing the path between the two of you in rapid strides so that he could capture your lips in a ferocious kiss. It left you breathless for a moment, the way his mouth was covering yours with feverish kisses, his arms around your waist to pull your body against his.

It was your second real kiss. Only the second one since you considered that your marriage had been sealed not with a kiss but with a signature at the bottom of a contract.

You pressed your forehead to his, trying to create some distance between you so that you could catch your breath and attempt to have a coherent thought about what was happening but he didn’t let you, giving you one last consuming kiss before his fingers tangled with your ponytail and he pulled, hard enough to force you to your knees in front of him.

You kneeled, looking up with expectant eyes. It was his way of showing you what he needed. He wanted to be revered, to get rebels to bend the knee in front of him, to be worshiped and relived from the anger and frustration he always locked up inside himself, with no way of letting them out.

You reached for his pants, swiftly undoing them with your eyes never leaving his pale blue ones, staring at you with a silent wrath still setting his gaze ablaze. He tugged on your hair again, forcing your chin up so that he could touch your face with his other hand, forcing a thumb passed your lips. He attentively watched you as you opened up your mouth to take it in, gently sucking before releasing it with a soft bite.

You saw him smile at your compliance, even though it was ended by a bold gesture. You were the perfect mix of obedient and fiery to make him lose his mind, and you both knew it.

He reached down to the pants you had opened for him, pulling his already hard erection. You resisted the urge to look at it, remembering how big it had felt in your hand and inside you, worried that his size might change your mind about giving him what he wanted. Instead, you kept your eyes fixed to his as you opened your mouth wide, ready to welcoming him there.

His tip glided on your tongue, his length not even entirely filling your mouth when you felt it hit the back of your throat. He shuddered with pleasure, a soft curse leaving his lips, followed by the sound of your name.

You felt a jolt of electricity in your body, a strange pride warming you up at the thought of pleasing him. You ran your tongue over his tip, tasting the saltiness that was already dripping from him in anticipation of his release. He cursed again and his hand moved to the back of your head, holding you firmly in place as he began thrusting back and forth.

You tried to relax your jaw and breathe through your nose as his hard length slid on your tongue, but when his movements increased in speed and in strength, you felt him reaching deeper down your throat and you couldn’t help but gag, tears welling in your eyes in consequence. But, even though he was still very carefully looking at you, watching the way he was fucking your mouth without mercy, he didn’t stop or slow down, only attempting to have an even firmer grip on you.

Another curse word fell from his lips, betraying how close he was to finding relief but, instead of shooting his load on your tongue as you were expecting him to, he rapidly pulled himself out of your mouth, heavily panting in front of you.

You used this opportunity to catch your own breath and wipe the mascara stains under your eyes, feeling the soreness of your lips caused by the unforgiving friction he had created.

“Get up.” He demanded, which made you realize he had let go of your hair. You obeyed without hesitation, even taking a step closer to be in his reach again. He immediately took advantage of the proximity, roughly pulling your dress up above your hips and bringing his hand to your center, pulling your panties aside so that he could run a finger across your soaked folds. A satisfied grin appeared on his face, as he removed his hand and brought his finger to his lips, tasting you with a hungry gaze.

You felt your whole body buzzing with excitement, your eyes following the path of his tongue as he licked his lips, seemingly enjoying what he had just tasted. You were so ready for him, you would have begged if he asked you but he didn’t. In fact, he didn’t ask for anything, he just took whatever he wanted, the way he wanted… And at this very moment, you couldn’t have been more okay with it.

His hands came to your bare hips and flipped you over so that your back was turned to him. Then, he pushed on your lower back, silently instructing you to bend over for him, which you did.

“Hold on tight.” He advised, his voice low with lust. You looked for something to do so but only found a tall bookshelf in front of you. You still gripped the sides of it, knowing it wouldn’t help you that much but you could already feel him pulling your panties to the side again.

Without a warning, he shoved himself inside you and you welcomed him, your wetness allowing him to slide all the way in with his first thrust. You bite your lip to avoid letting out a moan, very aware of the noise and chatter still coming from right behind his office door.

He completely pulled out before slamming inside you again, burying himself as deep as he could and you loudly gasped. He adjusted your position with a hand on each of your hips, gripping you so hard it was almost painful but you understood why once he repeated his action, thrusting so hard you would have lost your balance if he wasn’t helping stabilize you.

“Come on, let me hear the lovely sounds you can make.” He requested, mercilessly repeating the same movement.

“I can’t… They’ll all hear us…” You panted, a strangled moan catching in your throat when he hit deep, exactly where you needed him to.

“Good, I want them to know I’m fucking my wife.” He breathed, clearly enjoying himself too. “Show them you are mine.”

You felt dizzy at his words. Or maybe it was from the intense pleasure building up at your core. A few more of his rough thrusts and you came undone, loudly expressing your bliss as he released himself deep inside you. You both stayed connected for a moment to catch your breath until he pulled out, adjusting your panties and pulling your dress back down before taking care of putting his spent erection away.

You turned around to face him, meeting his gaze and noticing how his eyes had softened, like they had been drained of all the emotions he kept hidden behind them at all times, a clean slate to endure the rest of the evening.

To your surprise, he leaned over to kiss you. Not with hunger this time but with a tenderness you didn’t expect, like he was grateful you had been there for him.

“Was I too rough with you ?” He asked you, in a whisper, almost as if he was ashamed to say it out loud.

“Yes.” You nodded, appreciating the concern that immediately appeared on his face but you reassured him with a smile. “And I absolutely loved it.”

He smiled back, looking at you like he was seeing you in a new light. You weren’t strangers anymore and, for the first time, you were both starting to think that your marriage wasn’t such a fatality after all.

♡ - (( Tip Jar )) - ♡

Previously in this series:

Next in this series:

[a-shade-of-blue]

21 Nov Update: asks are now open, so you will have another way to reach me other than tagging me and commenting on my posts. Previously I receive an average of 80-100 asks per day, so likely I will not be able to see everyone's ask (also I still have more than 4000 asks in my inbox). Direct messages are still closed.

Hi everyone. For now I have closed my messages and my ask inbox (I realize that people who have sent me messages before can still send me messages, but I will not be checking my messages). I'm sorry that this will be a disappointment to some people.

This decision is made after several days of deliberation. I have recently received some messages that upset me so much I cried the entire night and led me to this decision. I just want to say here I'm just one person trying to help people to the best of my abilities. I am sharing palestinian gofundmes on my free time with no personal gain of my own. I'm extremely overwhelmed with the amount of requests I've received. As of writing I have 99+ unread messages and more than 4700 asks in my inbox. I have limited time and energy and I am not able to complete all requests that are asked of me. Some people are angry at me (and other accounts) because some campaigns get more attention than others and do better than others. Again, while we want to help everyone, we have limited time and energy. We are not perfect at this because we are humans with emotions, not machines.

Of course, I'm still encouraging everyone to share and donate to Gaza gofundme campaigns. And just to be clear, most of the interactions I've received are positive. And also, I just want to say that even if palestinians say something that is a little rude or something you don't like, they are still deserving of help. Nobody deserves to live through a genocide, nobody deserves to starve or face frequent bombings every day. I understand why they are angry and frustrated, they are only human.

Still, I am also only human. I am feeling extremely overwhelmed, and unfortunately, this is the straw that breaks the camel's back. I have been doing this every single day for more than 3 months now. I also have a personal life outside of this.

And hence, messages and asks are now closed. Maybe I'll open them again when I'm feeling more calm, but for now they are closed. I will still be sharing gaza gfm campaigns, but not as much as before. I hope you understand.

Links to resources below. i hope you all will continue to support Palestinian gfm campaigns.

The Freshwater pearl phone strap raffle is still ongoing. Donate to one of the three gfm campaigns below to enter.

@mahmoudfamily1: gfm/ vetted (#3 here, #117 here, bilal-salah0)/ 17 people, 10 children

@ahmed-0-khalil: gfm/ vetted (90-ghost, #77 here, gaza-evacuation-funds)/ 1 blind, 1 autistic child, needs to pay off debts incurred from borrowing money to buy food

@ahmedpalestine: gfm/ vetted (gaza-evacuation-funds, bilal-salah0)/ 12 people, 6 children

Click here for my Google Doc with my complete masterlist of all the Palestinian gfm asks I've received

Info on how gfm campaigns vetted:  See here, here, here and here.

See post here for other verified ways to send aid to Gaza.

Daily Clicks on Arab.org. Every click made is registered in their system and generates donation from sponsors/advertisers.

See links below for my Masterlists of Vetted Fundraisers from the Palestinians who sent me asks for if you want to help more people! As well as resources for palestinian students if you are a palestinian student!

Masterlists of Vetted Fundraisers

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 13 - 25 July.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 26 -29 July.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 30 July - 1 August.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 2 - 5 August.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 6 - 10 August.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 11 - 14 August.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 15 - 18 August

Click here for my Masterlist for fundrasiers from 19 - 21 August

Click here for my Masterlist for fundrasiers from 22 - 24 August

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 25 - 28 August

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 29 August - 1 September

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 2 - 5 September.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 6-10 September.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 11-14 September.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 15-18 September.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 19-22 September.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 23-26 September.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 27-30 September.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 1-4 October.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 5-9 October.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 10-14 October.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 15-21 October.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 22-26 October.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 27 October - 2 November.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 3-12 November.

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Resources for Palestinian Students!

Initiatives and resources to support Palestinian students, academics and universities:

This is a list of initiatives and resources for Gazan students seeking to complete their studies, including initiatives, resources, training and scholarships. See list here.

Scholarships for Displaced Palestinian students:

Putting this here for the palestininans who follow me: If you are a displaced Palestinian student looking to fund your education, this document lists the scholarships available around the world for displaced Palestinian students.

[somethingvicked]

Forget me (not) pt 1

An Eddie Munson story.

Warnings: female reader, angst, reader injured, Eddie being an idiot, memory loss.

Eddie wasn’t stupid. He knew that the relationship between him and Chrissy wouldn’t last forever. They were two very different people that wanted different things in life.

Chrissy wanted to graduate with high honors and go to college and then get married and have a white picket fence life with children and a dog.

Eddie was on his third try to graduate high school and he had no clue what he was going to do with his life after that. He had his band but he didn’t think they would ever make it out of the garage era, playing at a bar for only five drunks every week.

But Chrissy was really pretty, and unlike every other popular person, she was also sweet and not ashamed to be seen with him. Why not have a good time while it lasted?

He had to admit, he hadn’t paid as much attention to his best friend, Y/N since he and Chrissy started dating, after that first time Chrissy bought weed from him and they started joking and having fun.

Eddie reckoned that it was okay. He had known and spent time with Y/N most of his life – it couldn’t be that bad if he spent a couple of weeks or months with Chrissy.

Did he notice that Y/N was hurt when he turned down her suggestions of movie nights, going out for a burger or planning the next campaign? Yes.

But he figured it was alright. It wouldn’t last forever.

For him and Y/N there would be more time. For him and Chrissy, it was limited.

You wanted to be happy for Eddie when he and Chrissy started dating. And in a way you were. That Chrissy, such a popular and smart girl saw Eddie as he really was, rather than what everyone thought him to be. She didn’t judge him.

But you would be lying if you didn’t say you were jealous.

You had been in love with Eddie since middle school, when he and his band played at that talent show.

You two hadn’t become friends until high school, though, when you came over and asked if you could join Hellfire club.

Up until then you had mostly hung out with the band nerds and Robin, because your parents really wanted you to learn some kind of instrument.

You had tried to play the violin but you hated it, so when you quit you felt like you needed a new hobby and with Eddie running the DnD club, it was a given.

You had never told Eddie how much you loved him, though. He didn’t feel the same way, you knew that. You were just his best friend.

There had been other girls that he had hooked up with but it never lasted. Not like this.

And when he kept blowing you off you wondered if you were about to lose him forever?

That’s what led you to going over to his place one time when Chrissy had cheer practice. You knew Eddie rarely came to cheer practice because he didn’t like the way the jocks yelled at Chrissy, calling her a traitor and a devil’s tramp and whatnot.

Eddie opened the door himself, in sweatpants and an old Dio shirt, hair all tousled. You suspected he’d been relaxing with a joint.

”Y/N! Sweetheart, what are you doing here?” Eddie wondered, smiling at you.

The nickname felt like a knife to the heart. Even more when he asked what you were doing at his place, as if you coming over had become some strange event all of a sudden.

And to be fair, lately it had.

”I need to talk to you,” you replied. ”Are you going to let me in, or should we talk here on the porch?”

You hadn’t meant to sound so snappy but you were nervous and his reaction to you didn’t help.

Eddie’s grin disappeared and he stepped aside so you could come through the door, a frown now on his face.

”What’s wrong?” he wondered as you two walked into his room.

You sighed, your arms wrapped around yourself, trying to keep yourself together, if not mentally, at least physically.

Eddie started to look worried, clearly thinking you were about to say something horrible had happened.

You sighed.

”Eddie... I... I miss you.”

Eddie seemed surprised. ”You miss me? That’s what we need to talk about? We see each other all the time, sweetheart!”

”Do we?” you challenged. ”The only one you seem to hang out with these days is Chrissy. I... I get it that you and her... but it feels like we’re not even friends anymore!”

Eddie smiled. ”Of course we’re still friends, Y/N. But me and Chrissy... it’s going so well and she’s so sweet. You know how it is, in the beginning, when you’ve just started dating right?”

You shook your head. ”No. I don’t,” you said, looking down on your feet.

Eddie’s face fell. ”Well, maybe if you got out there and tried dating someone and have a little fun you would know. Why don’t you try it? You might be surprised.”

”There’s no one else I want,” you mumbled and Eddie rolled his eyes.

”Look, Y/N, Chrissy is my girlfriend now, and girlfriends... well, I’m sorry but they should come first, shouldn’t they?”

”We’ve been best friends for years, you’ve known Chrissy for what? Two months? I’m not saying you can’t have a girlfriend, I just...”

”Wait, wait...” Eddie said, frowning,”what do you mean there’s no one else you want?”

You blushed. ”Nothing, it was nothing.”

”So you do have feelings for someone? Why don’t you try asking them out?”

You felt your frustration throb inside your head and groaned. ”That won’t work.”

”Why not?”

”Because it’s you, you idiot!” you screamed, tears rising in your eyes.

Eddie stared at you like you had grown a second head. ”Me?”

”Yes! I... I’ve been in love with you ever since middle school, Eddie...”

”Since middle school?!”

”Yes.”

For a moment there was nothing but silence between you two, except an occasional sniffle from you.

”Why are you telling me this now?” Eddie said, his voice monotone.

”I... I didn’t mean to, I just... I miss you so much and I feel really hurt that you can just... quit me, like I mean nothing! Even if you don’t feel the same...”

”You’re damn right I don’t feel the same!” Eddie exclaimed. ”Why the hell are you telling me this now, when I’m already dating someone? If you wanted to spend more time with me, that’s the last thing you should have done! Now you’ve ruined everything!”

You gasped. ”What?”

”Yeah! How do you think Chrissy will feel about this? I definitely can’t hang out with you now, knowing you have feelings for me. She’s going to freak out.”

He was worried about how Chrissy would react?

”Well... then I suppose it will end here,” you whispered, your voice broken. ”You know me, Eddie, you know I would’ve never cross any boundaries if you weren’t okay with it. But clearly I didn’t mean as much to you as I thought. What was I – a distraction until something better came along?”

Eddie’s eyes widened. ”Of course not! I only meant... Chrissy is my girlfriend! She won’t be happy that I hang out with someone that has feelings for me. Would you if the roles were reversed?”

”I think you made it quite clear that that would never happen,” you said, wiping your eyes. ”It doesn’t matter. I can’t help my feelings and you can’t help yours. But... I need some distance, Eddie. I guess that works out good for you, protecting Chrissy’s feelings.”

Now Eddie was starting to look worried again. It was clear that even though he didn’t feel the same about you as you did him, he hadn’t expected that it might end your friendship.

”You want to punish me for not being in love with you? I can’t control something like that.”

You immediately got angry. ”Is that what you think of me? No! But you said it yourself – you can’t hang out with me now because you know I have feelings for you. And you pick Chrissy,” you told him, not being able to hold back the bitterness in your voice.

”It’s not about picking! You’re still my best friend, but Chrissy...”

”I can’t just forget that I’m in love with you,” you told him with a roll of your eyes. ”However much I wish I could.”

”Yeah, I wish you could too,” Eddie said, realizing too late how cruel he sounded. ”I wish this conversation never happened. What good did it do that you told me this?”

 As if he wanted to twist the dagger in your heart even more. You inhaled sharply but didn’t reply.

You made a silent wish when you turned around and walked out of the door of his trailer.

I wish I could forget everything about you, Eddie Munson. It would make it so much easier.  

You immediately drove to Family Video, knowing that both Robin and Steve was working today. As you walked inside Robin’s eyes widened at the sight of your red-rimmed eyes.

”Y/N! What happened?” she wondered as she grabbed your arm and pulled you behind the counter.

You told her and Steve everything, knowing you could trust them.

Robin pulled you in for a hug and Steve muttered something about kicking Eddie’s ass, which made you laugh.

”Steve, don’t be silly. I mean... he’s right. He can’t help how he’s feeling. He likes Chrissy, he doesn’t like me like that. I can accept that – no one can control their feelings. It’s the way he’s acted toward me until now. I guess I can understand why he wouldn’t want to hang out with me knowing I’m in love with him, because it would make it awkward for Chrissy.

”Maybe. But he was still insenstive toward you,” Steve said, shaking his head. ”Nothing should get in the way of friendship.”

”Yes. But... I can’t deny that he has a point. I would probably be uncomfortable if the roles were reversed, like he said,” you admitted.

Steve still thought Eddie had been a jerk to you. Especially since Eddie had told Steve that he knew that this thing with Chrissy might only last until she left for college. That Eddie was willing to throw away a friendship for something that was just temporary... that was such a mean thing to do.

”I’m just going to go home, lick my wounds and...”

”... have lots of chocolate!” Robin interrupted. ”Take whatever you need, on the house. You want me to come over after I’m done here?”

”No, thank you, I want to be alone. But I’d love some chocolate and slasher movies. Then I can watch someone else get fucked up instead of me,” you half-joked.

Less than ten minutes later you left Family Video, stocked with ice cream, chocolate bars and a couple of movies in your arms that you put into the backseat, before starting your car and driving towards home.

You thought once again about Eddie. You knew your feelings for him wouldn’t disappear – it wasn’t like you hadn’t tried that before.

Maybe you two would never be the same again. And you would have to live with that pain, while he cozied up to Chrissy. The girl that hadn’t said ’iota’ when her ex boyfriend tormented Eddie, tormented you and the rest of the gang.

You were so deep in your thoughts that you didn’t see the little girl cross the road until it was almost too late.

With a yelp you sharply turned the wheel, just noticing the blue little blossoms she was dropping onto the road before a large tree appeared in front of you.

As a large crash rumbled into your ears, the windowshield turning into a web of cracks and your head hitting the steering wheel with a force that made it feel like your skull exploded, you swore you could hear a small little voice chiming ”he loves me, he loves me not.”

Was it the little girl?

Then everything went black.

Eddie was still at home, waiting for Chrissy to call him after practice, thinking about what had happened with Y/N.

That she’d had feelings for him, so long. How could he not have noticed? The two of them were best friends after all!

When he remembered how her face had fallen and how she told him that she would keep a distance... it made his heart ache. Y/N had been a constant in his life for so many years. It was hard to imagine a life without her.

But Chrissy was his girlfriend now. A girlfriend had to come first! Right?

A girlfriend he hadn’t even bother planning a future with because he knew there wasn’t one...

He tried to imagine his life without Chrissy. If he had to be honest with himself… it didn’t feel quite as sad as he thought it would – because  it wouldn’t make much of a difference from how he had lived until now.

Then he tried to imagine a life without Y/N.

That. That hurt. It felt like someone had punched him in the ribs.

That’s when the phone rang. And it wasn’t Chrissy.

Eddie stormed into the hospital, seeing the children, Steve, Robin, Nancy and Jonathan in the waiting room.

”How is she?” he breathed out.

”What are you doing here? Won’t your girlfriend feel ’awkward’?” Steve couldn’t help but ask.

Eddie froze in his steps, staring at Steve.

Robin patted Steve’s arm. ”Not now, Steve,” she said, glancing over to the younger teenagers.

Dustin, whom had been the one to call Eddie, looked up at him. ”A little girl walked out into the road and Y/N swerved to avoid hitting her, but she ended up crashing into a tree instead.”

”And?” Eddie wondered, breathing fast as he imagined Y/N’s car crashing into a tree, how scared she must have been.

”We don’t know. She’s hit head pretty badly on the steering wheel and has some cuts from the glass. She was unconscious when they brought her in with the ambulance,” Dustin continued. ”We don’t know if she got any other injuries, right now we’re just... waiting.”

Eddie nodded and sat down. Steve was pacing back and forth in the waiting room and when he was beside Eddie, turning around for the fifteenth time he spat: ”You sure you want to wait here with us? What about Chrissy? Don’t want to keep her waiting, right?”

Eddie glared at Steve. ”Y/N’s my best friend, of course I want to be here.”

”Really?” Steve questioned, tapping his chin. ”Your best friend? No, that doesn’t sound right. Not when Y/N herself told me that you picked Chrissy over her and that she had, ’ruined everything’.”

Eddie paled, realizing that Steve knew what had happened. What he had done. ”That’s... I didn’t mean... ”

”Enough, you two,” Dustin said, but with the way he looked at Eddie, Eddie once again felt like someone had punched him in the ribs. ”Y/N is going to want all of us here when she wakes up. We’re here for her, so quit your dick measuring contest!”

Both Eddie and Steve’s eyes widened as they stared at Dustin cursing them out before it got quiet again.

Eddie didn’t fail to notice though, that while the others spoke among each other, no one spoke to him.

It felt like they had been waiting for years when Y/N’s mother finally came out into the waiting room to talk to them all.

”Y/N... she’s most likely going to be fine. The seat belt broke a couple of ribs as well as the force of the crash, which punctured a lung, but they have repaired it now. She’s also gotten a pretty hard knock to the head when she hit the tree. I know you’re all eager to see her, and I understand that, but she’s very tired from them repairing the lung and pain medication. She needs to rest. But I will tell her you are all thinking about her.”

The others sighed, but nodded and got up. Robin gave Y/N’s mother a hug and Nancy spoke kindly to her, telling her especially what she wanted Y/N  to know.

Eddie seemed to be the only one that noticed something was off. He knew Y/N’s mother well and he could tell that she was holding something back. So he pretended like he was going to the vending machine to get a snack when the others trooped out.

Then he stayed in the waiting room, until finally, an hour later, Y/N’s mother went outside again, seemingly going to get a cup of coffee.

Then Eddie quickly snuck into Y/N’s room.

The first he felt was relief. She was lying back against the pillow, the whole right side of her face purple and blue from the hit and an oxygen tube in her nose, probably to help the injured lung. A few cuts on her forehead but not deep enough that she’d needed stitches.

She was even awake, looking out the window with tired eyes. He had been terrified she’d been in a coma.

”Y/N!” Eddie exclaimed and saw how she jerked, grimacing from the pain, which made him feel bad for scaring her, and then she turned her gaze towards him. ”Sweetheart! I’m so sorry... when I heard... you can’t imagine how that...”

Y/N’s eyes widened and she shied away as if she was afraid of him and Eddie frowned, taking a step closer, ”Y/N, what’s wrong? Are you angry with me? I understand that, but...” Y/N looked into his eyes, asking in a monotone voice: ”I’m sorry... do... do I know you?”

Eddie frowned, not understanding. For a moment he thought Y/N was joking with him, but the expression in her eyes... confusion, fear... not a hint of recollection.

He heard the door open behind him and Y/N’s mother gasp. ”Eddie! I told you...”

Y/N’s mother hurried over to Y/N’s bed, taking her hand. ”I’m sorry, dear. This... this is Eddie,” she told Y/N, her voice calm as if she was comforting a scared child.

”Do I know him?” Y/N wondered, voice small and trembling. “I… I don’t… remember?”

That’s when Eddie understood.

The hit to Y/N’s head had affected her memory. She didn’t know who he was.

taglist: @ali-r3n @animechick555 @h-ness1944 @eddie-is-a-god

@rainybloo28 @megatronmunson @quinnyficsy @jenniquinn @melodymunson

please, like, comment and reblog!

Your likes are wonderful but reblogs expand my reading circle

[mr-cha-n]

The Pen Pal Project

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x reader

Genres: Fluff, fluff, and more fluff

Warnings: Profanities, sappiness, cheating (third party), a tinsy hint of angst

Word Count: 10.2k

Summary: Over a decade of handwritten letters later, you can happily say that the Pen Pal Project was your greatest success.

Reaching up into the top shelf of the wardrobe, toppling onto your tiptoes in order to do so, your fingertips brush against a satin, bowed box. Pulling the box down to your chest, you perch at the edge of your large, periwinkle-sheeted bed, gingerly untangling the pretty blue ribbon and lifting the lid off of the top. Leafing your fingers through the stacks of paper inside, you feel a wave of nostalgia enrapturing your body. Your head rolls back, eyes falling shut as your mind is overtaken by memory.

"Honey, the guests will be here soon!" Your husband yells out from down the stairs.

"I'll just be a few minutes! Can you take the cake out, my love?" You call back, praying you have the time to reminisce before everyone arrives.

You gently pull out the first letter from the top of the stack.

April 5th 2007

Dear pen pal,

I am writing to you because my class has signed up for the Pen Pal Project this year. Because I don't know who you are or anything about you, I am going to answer some of the questions my teacher has given us, and hopefully you can answer them too in your reply!

1. What is your name?

My mom said that I shouldn't give out any personal information, so I can't actually answer this question. My friends all call me Dusty, so you can call me that too.

2. What hobbies do you enjoy?

I am really into skating, starcraft, hockey and rocks. Yesterday, me and my friends went out to the outskirts of the city to see if we could climb the big oak trees, and I found a piece of dolomite next to the river! I really want to find a meteorite but they're very rare so I think it'll take a lot of searching. I also play in my school's field hockey team - my mom wants me to stop playing because last week I cracked one of my teeth, but I think she's going to come around when she sees our tournament next weekend.

3. What do you want to do when you grow up?

My dad is a teacher and my mom is a nurse, so my parents want me to go to university and become a doctor or a professor, but I'd quite like to be an astronaut or Indiana Jones, whichever pays better.

4. What's one thing you want to know about your pen pal?

I want to know everything about you (more than one, sorry)! What's your school like? What year were you born in (mine is 1995)? What do you do for fun? Do you like dogs? Do you have a phone?

I'm not sure if I'll get a response to this letter, but if you do want to, I hope we can keep in touch for a long time :)

Yours truly, 

Dusty

May 21st 2007

Dear Dusty,

I'm really glad I got your letter. Some of my friends got letters that didn't even have a return address, but thankfully I get to write back to you and answer some of your questions. I was also born in 1995 so we are same-age friends. I'm finding this year in school a bit harder because of all the tests we are doing, but we just started doing football again in Physical Education so it's not too bad. Sports are my biggest hobby - I do football and basketball and I want to start wrestling this year. I mostly like to go and play with my friends at the park. I'm on some of the school teams, but my friends tell me I'm too competitive to play professionally.

I also really like gaming and reading. I finished the Protoss campaign over the winter break, but I've had to stop now that school has started again. My friends are all really excited about the announcement of Starcraft II, are you too? Will you keep going with the original or switch to the new one?

When I grow up, I either want to do sports or I'll study to work a good job in business or finance. Being an astronaut would be so cool! You'd definitely be able to find a meteorite then.

About your other questions, I don't have a phone yet but I do love dogs. When I'm older I want at least one dog, if not more. Do you have any pets?

I hope that we can keep writing to each other too - it's fun to have a secret friend.

From,

Cherry

January 4th 2011

Dear Cherry,

Sorry it's been a while - I've been really busy over the winter break, but I just had my tonsils removed so I have a bit of free time in recovery to write this letter. Before you ask, no - I didn't wake up during the surgery which I was a bit disappointed about, but I did manage to swallow enough blood to make me throw up after waking up so that was kinda crazy.

I can't believe that your friend did that! One time my friend Jiwoo got suspended for unscrewing all of the lightbulbs in the science classrooms, but that was because of a dare, not her own free will! I've never been suspended before, but I came close for tardiness last year. Have you ever been suspended?

I also appreciated your inquiry into the Heiran - Hyunki situation. I can't believe I forgot to update you in my last letter, and you'll be glad to receive it! Unbelievably, they got back together. I know it's what we feared would happen, but apparently Heiran has made some of her own mistakes in the relationship, so she's willing to overlook the whole thing. Absolutely crazy - I think that she's just scared to break up with him, which I suppose is a fair concern - just not for a 16-year-old. The whole situation really made me think about the purpose of relationships and love. All of my friends keep rushing into relationships this year, and I feel like I'm being left behind. I just don't care as much as they do, but they act like I'm some alien creature for not wanting to make out with someone in the school locker rooms. Perhaps this isn't something you can relate to, but it would be nice to know if you think I'm justified in my opinion or if there really is something wrong with me.

The thought of starting school again after the break is actually making me want to run away to the mountains. My sister is leaving for university and I don't want to go to school without her. Of course, I can't tell her that, but it's going to be really lonely walking in on my own. Plus, my parents' attention is firmly on me now, so I can't mess up in exams this year. The amount of pressure is going to make my head explode. How are you feeling about the year? I guess because you have the football season to look forward to your mind is probably focused on that?

I'm thinking about rejoining hockey this year. Even though it was too much last year, I did really miss it and I think I can better manage my time now that I don't have to be in the choir anymore. I think my mom might have a fit when I tell her, but the way you talked about sports really made me miss playing. Plus, apparently, I need an outlet for all these teenage hormonal emotions seeing as I'm not getting it on in the McDonald's parking lot.

Anyways, I need to get going now so I have time to blend some fruit up before lunchtime.

Yours truly,

Dusty

A chuckle leaves your lips as you read back over your letter. You'd been so worried about who was dating who and, more importantly, who you weren't dating. You were always so grateful for someone to discuss your fears with - your friends at the time certainly didn't understand. You'd had your first kiss a few weeks after you'd sent the letter. A party at a friend of a friend's house had devolved into typical teenage party games and you'd been pressured into kissing a boy whose name you couldn't remember. In fairness, you remembered that he was cute - curly dark hair and sharp cheekbones - but you'd made a joke about not being able to engage in tonsil tennis and he hadn't laughed so you'd known he wasn't the one.

June 27th 2011

Dear Dusty,

I finally asked out Myunghee and she said yes -

Nuh uh, skip that one.

October 23rd 2013

Dear Dusty,

All the kids in the year have planned a big Halloween party to celebrate our last your of high school. It's pretty exciting - apparently, they've bought some major decorations and they're going to set out the host's house to have scary surprises in all the rooms. I wouldn't be surprised if someone dresses up and decides to chase drunk kids around all night. It's a bittersweet feeling - our last Halloween party, but perhaps our best? Do you have any plans for Halloween and the holidays? I'm thinking of doing a Superman costume, but I'm wondering if that's a bit too obvious?

I put off writing about it first because I didn't want to open the letter with bad news, but I wanted to let you know that me and Myunghee broke up. Even though it's pretty sad, I've known it was coming for a while. If you remember my last letter, I told you about the fight that we had about next year, and I think that was really the beginning of the end. I was hoping that we could make it work a bit longer, but she said that we'd just be dragging out the inevitable and I guess she's right. I think I'm still a bit annoyed about the rollercoaster of the last month seeing if she's known the whole time that we should break up but I'll get over it. It's mostly just weird not having her around all the time. Everywhere feels a lot emptier now. I'm glad I can write to you about this - it's a bit awkward talking about it with my friends because they are also friends with her, but I can actually be honest with you. 

Anyway, I hope you are doing a bit better than me. Your date sounded pretty cool - I've always wanted to go on an ice-skating date but I'd be a bit scared of falling over and making a fool of myself so I admire your confidence. If you are still seeing him, I hope he's treating you well. Chocolates and flowers at least once a month - and you can tell him I said so if he asks. If you're not seeing him, I (pre-emptively) can't believe he did that to you! What a jerk...

Are you watching the AFC Champions League final? A few friends and I are going to go down to the bar to watch it together and pray for a good result - either way, it should be fun. I suppose your dad will have it on in the house, but I'll be shocked if you tell me you're going to watch it with him after last time. Best to avoid the flying wrath of a TV remote. There's something about dads and sports, isn't there? I wonder if I'll be like that when I'm an adult. I hope not, but I already get too into it so maybe it's inevitable.

Yours,

Cherry

That date had been a good one as far as you remember, but the memory has become blurry after all the times your husband has taken you ice-skating since. You'd dated that guy for a few more weeks after this, but he made a weird comment to one of his friends when he didn't think you could hear it so you knew he wasn't the one.

Finishing high school and moving on to university had been a formative time for you. You gained a sense of identity that you'd lost as a teenager, and reconnected with your younger self. A smile crinkles your lips as you think about that time. The stupid escapades of adults let loose on their own for the first time, the lifelong friends you'd made, and the wealth of knowledge you'd gained about yourself and about the world. Your husband never attended university so he never experienced any of that, but you suppose he did have his own life-changing revelations during this time.

February 8th 2015

Dear Cherry,

I'm in crisis and I need your advice! I haven't spoken to anyone else about this yet, but I have a feeling building in me that needs to be released and you always give me the best advice. I'm thinking about dropping out of my program. 

I know this sounds super rash and stupid, but I really hate it. I find it so dull and confusing, and everyone else is much better at it than I am. And, if I'm really being honest, I only chose medicine because my mother wanted me to. I would feel so stupid revealing that to anyone else, but I think you already knew that was the case. I'm struggling to keep going with it without the passion that other students seem to have, and when I hear about my friends' courses they sound so much more interesting.

If I actually go through with it, this may be the last letter I write to you. But, given that I survived my mother's wrath, a life studying literature or archaeology sounds so much more fulfilling to my brain even if not my pockets. What do you think about all of this? Is it worth following a passion that may lead to nothing or sticking it out with a stable, reliable path to future success without enjoyment?

As you know, I make very impulsive decisions, so I need your help in deciding whether or not this would be one of those.

Yours truly,

Dusty

P.S. I got asked to the dance by this really attractive guy who works at the coffee shop on campus so not everything is going wrong.

P.S.S. I found a rock which I thought was a meteorite but it was actually a magnetite - better luck next time!

You'd dropped out of your medicine major the moment you'd received the reply. Of course, your pen pal was a lot more supportive of your decision than your parents were but they got over it in time. Your fate had been decided the moment you'd stepped out of your first archaeology class - heart beaming and mind brimming with all of your plans for the future. Despite your parents' apprehensions, it had been the right decision. It didn't take long for your burning enthusiasm and insatiable appetite for learning to be picked up by your professors, and by your second year in the major you'd been invited on an exclusive trip one of your professors was going on with a handful of other students. 

It was around this time that you'd started wondering more about your pen pal. The flutters of your heart each time the small envelope appeared in your dorm pigeonhole had been drowned out by the rush of university life. Reflecting back, your obliviousness to your own emotions makes you shake your head in disbelief. But then, you'd met Daejung. He'd taken you out dancing, brought you flowers and laughed at your jokes, and you began to wonder if he was the one.

May 16th 2017

Dear Dusty,

Officially, you may know me better than anyone else. I know I already sent you a letter this month that you probably haven't even received, but I realised that it is the tenth anniversary since I received your first letter. Not to be soppy, but it truly means the world to me that we've been able to keep up this correspondence this whole time. 

As far as I'm aware, we won the Pen Pal Project. No one else I know stayed in touch with their childhood pen pal for nearly as long as we have, and I think that we deserve some kind of reward for it.

But, beyond any records we must have broken, I'm most grateful for the friendship we have developed. In any other circumstances, I would have said that it was impossible for people who have never met to be each other's closest confidants, but I can confidently say that there is nothing I wouldn't tell you. If it turns out you've been some 60-year-old man this whole time, consider me logged off from this life. 

My wish is that we can keep doing this for as long as we are able to hold pens in our hands, and even then I'd consider getting a scribe to write the letters for me.

As a gift, I feel that it's about time that I tell you my name - my real name. If you (and your mom) still don't feel comfortable sharing yours then Dusty is still perfectly fine for me, but the fundamental disconnect between telling a person your deepest secrets and not telling them your name has gotten too overwhelming for me, so it's time to rectify that.

Yours, 

Seungcheol

P.S. If you still want to call me Cherry that's also a-okay!

The first time Seungcheol revealed his name to you, you remember you'd dropped the letter in shock. As if knowing his name changed things, as if he didn't live a completely separate life from you already. It wasn't like knowing who he was would change anything about your life - you had no connection to him other than your letters - but the intimacy of his name had you staggering a few steps backwards, eye bulging from your head at the fallen letter. It seems rather overdramatic now, but in hindsight it always does.

This letter had been a bit of a turning point in your relationship, beyond the end of the nicknames you'd used for ten years. You'd always felt close enough to Seungcheol to pour your heart out to him in writing, but the closeness you felt was compounded in this letter. You wipe a few rogue tears from your eyes as you read back over it, moved by the raw declarations Seungcheol had been brave enough to express. If you really think about it, this letter was the first time you'd truly tried to picture what your pen pal looked like. Up until this point, you'd been enflamed by his words and unloaded all of your deepest thoughts to him in return, but this was the first time that you'd realised that your pen pal was a real man your age that you were already deeply connected to. The thought had been scandalous in your mind, and the shame that overwhelmed you when you'd met up with Daejung later that day made it hard to look him in the eye. Fantasising about a man you had never seen before had felt as bad as cheating, and the various forms of him that had appeared in your dreams for the rest of the week only compounded your guilt.

August 4th 2018

Dear Seungcheol,

Happy 24th Birthday! It's actually shocking to me to think that we're this old already, but I think mid-20s is a label that suits you well these days. Jokes aside, I hope you have a really lovely day doing whatever it is you have planned. I'll assume you're off bungee jumping with Jeonghan or on an all-inclusive golfing retreat until you tell me otherwise. In all cases, I hope that you are surrounded by friends and family to remind you how special you are.

Also, congratulations on your new job! I can't believe you didn't tell me that you were interviewing for it, but I suppose you didn't want to jinx anything by putting it into writing. I always thought that coaching would suit you - you could scare me into coming to practice any day! You should be really proud of yourself; I know that I am.

You'll never guess who got in contact with me this week! All out of nowhere, I got a message from Heiran of all people inviting me to her and Hyunki's wedding! I guess I was really wrong about that one... For their sake, I hope that their relationship is a bit better than it was in school. I was very surprised to be invited seeing as we haven't spoken in years, but I suppose it'll be nice to see everyone from school again. Perhaps I should tell Daejung that he can't come and you can be my plus one instead - I think you know the couple better than he does!

Another one of my friends just gave birth to a baby boy. All of this marrying and birth-giving is really screwing with my head. As far as I was aware, that's a thing that proper adults do and we're nowhere close to that yet. Even if I know that 24 is a very common age to be doing that stuff, it's still more than my brain can process. Once again, I am left behind as everyone else moves on to the next stage of life. I'm grateful, at least, that Daejung is pretty relaxed about all of that stuff. Hoping we can have a few more years before we start thinking about any of it - I still have so much travelling to do, things to see, and meals to eat before I flush all of my money down the toilet.

Jiwoo got really excited this week because she thought she saw Lee Byunghun walking past her work, so that made me feel a bit better about my life priorities.

Yours truly,

(Y/n)

P.S. I'm spending extra money to make sure this gets to you on time, so if it doesn't you cannot blame me.

P.P.S. My new address is - XXX

That year you and Daejung had finally moved in together. The apartment was small and in a less-than-nice area, but you'd been ecstatic at the chance to live with the man you loved. It had been a rough year before that - Daejung had missed out on a job offer for his dream role and you weren't able to go abroad on an excavation because he didn't want you to leave for months just as you were moving in together - but you'd seen the new apartment as symbolic of the new beginning you two would get together.

You'd also thought a lot about meeting up with Seungcheol that year. Looking back, it was crazy that you never did. Both of you expressed a will to do so, but something had always prevented you from actually doing it. You were completing your postgraduate degree part-time and working a service job that was supporting both you and Daejung at the start of the year, moving in together in the middle of the year, and Seungcheol had gotten busy with his new job in the latter half of the year. Even though you had never met up before, that you weren't able to that year was the first time it felt like a loss.

December 12th 2019

Dear (Y/n),

I've been thinking about you a lot recently. Writing to you has been the highlight of my month for a while now, and I'm so proud of you for everything you've achieved. It's amazing that you're already being asked to go on your first excursion as a proper expert, and I hope that Daejung comes around to the idea of you being away for so long. I'm sure that I'll miss your letters so I can imagine he's feeling much worse about it - but that shouldn't stop you from going. You might find an ancient vase and accidently release a curse upon the world, or discover a new dinosaur! Even if you go and are just digging up dirt with no results, I'll still be impressed.

One of the kids I mentor asked me if I knew what Starcraft was yesterday, and at that moment I really felt my age. I think it's led to some level of introspection I usually avoid, but one thing that has become clear to me is that I'm very grateful for this friendship. I hope that one day soon you can perhaps travel to Daegu and visit, or I can come see you in Seoul. Or perhaps it will take away the great fun of having a pen pal if we meet - you may be expecting someone completely opposite from me and seeing me may ruin the magic?

But the main reason I've been thinking about you is because I finally finished Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982. You were very correct in your recommendation - I can't believe it took me so long to read it! Summary of thoughts: I'm raging and also apologising to my mother and grandmother every time I see them. You have to send me another recommendation now that I'm finished - maybe some sort of mystery or thriller if you know any?

Yours,

Seungcheol

P.S. I suppose I should send you a whip and brown fedora and then you can officially say you're Indiana Jones. 

January 7th 2021

Dear Seungcheol,

I'm glad you had fun on your trip! The picture you sent of the mountains was absolutely gorgeous and was a hilarious reminder that I have no idea what you look like. I keep saying I want to go to Japan but can hardly find the time, but after seeing the picture I really must go now.

I have some big news.

Daejung proposed and we're getting married!! 

I know it's a bit out of the blue - I was surprised too. He's been putting off any mention of marriage for the last few months so I assumed he just wasn't interested but I guess that was all a cover to stop me from suspecting the proposal. It happened a few days after I got back from Vienna. It was really sweet - he threw this big party with all of our close friends and family to celebrate the end of my project and proposed at the end of the night. I was pretty shocked which I suppose was the point, but I'm really just excited that we're taking that step together.

My main purpose for writing is that I wanted to invite you to the wedding. It's a big step, but it wouldn't feel right to get married without one of my oldest friends there. If you decide you don't want to and you want to keep our friendship strictly on paper then I'd totally understand. But if you do want to come, we'd love to have you with us. I'll cover any travel and hotel fees if it means I can have you here.

Your continued support via letter means the world to me. 

Yours truly, 

(Y/n)

The wedding. Oh, the wedding.

A few nights before your wedding Daejung had come to the hotel you'd been staying in that week to finalise all of the preparations and observe some old-fashioned pre-wedding rituals your mother insisted on as if you and Daejung hadn't lived together for years before that. He'd given you a marriage gift a bit early because you were supposed to go straight to your honeymoon in Japan on the day of the wedding. Your heart fluttered in excitement as you opened the box, electrified at the surprise of what your future-husband could have gotten you to symbolise your union together. The reality had been, you could now admit, disappointing. The necklace had been pretty, and certainly not cheap. A silver heart set with a gleaming diamond to match the ring that Daejung had picked out for you. You'd smiled, thanking him for the gift and tried to ignore the discontent brewing in your own heart.

The first time you saw Seungcheol was at your wedding reception. Because of his job and the distance, he hadn't been able to make your morning ceremony, but the fact that he even chose to come all that way meant a lot to you.

"Who's the hunk with the green scarf?" One of your bridesmaids, Jiwoo had asked, pointing out a man standing alone by one of the drinks tables. 

For a moment you didn't want to believe that it was him, but who else would be at your wedding that you didn't recognise? Tall and broad with fluffy hair and a handsome-beyond-belief face, Seungcheol had been a picture to witness. All dressed up in a suit, you thought he looked rather like a super spy or a CEO from one of those corny romance books. In any case, you were shocked to your core that that was the man you'd spilt your darkest secrets to for over a decade now.

"Oh, I think that might be Seungcheol," You breathed, voice wavering with uncertainty even though you were now certain it was him.

"Seungcheol - hmm, why does that name sound so familiar?" Your other bridesmaid, Mirae, pondered, her brow crinkled as she tried to identify the name in her memory.

"Oh my god, you invited your pen pal to your wedding?!" Jiwoo exclaimed, spinning on her heel to give you an incredulous look. 

"Of course I did, I've known him for almost as long as I've known you!" You stuttered, your head still trying to play catch-up after the dizzying appearance of said topic of conversation.

"Why didn't you tell me that your pen pal was so hot?" Mirae scoffed, mock fanning her face in a way that made you feel shamefully irritated.

"Surprisingly, he didn't mention it in his letters." You responded, offering her a deadpan look and an eyebrow raise. She shrugged, but you'd known that wouldn't be the end of that conversation.

About 15 minutes later, you'd finally managed to make your way over to Seungcheol's perch. It was hard to decipher if your delay was because of all of the people trying to talk to you at the same time (perks of it being your wedding) or because of the unexplained fear and anxiety that was bubbling inside you at the prospect of finally meeting him face-to-face. As you finally made eye-contact, and he'd flashed his teeth at you in an infectious grin, you'd felt all of that melt away from you.

"Hi," You greeted, not able to wipe your own smile from your face.

"Hi," He responded, a peace settling between the two of you. "You look really beautiful."

Your face was all ablush and you felt a sense of dread at what would happen if you started like this. Starting down at your dress, you were unable to look back up at him.

"Thank you, I had it specially made," You smiled, your eyes gleaming as he chuckled at your joke. "I really appreciate you coming all this way, it means so much to me that you're here. Please let me know if there's anything you need - have you eaten yet? I can get you some-"

"It's okay, I'm feeling great." His hand reached out to still your own, which you hadn't realised was nervously picking at at skin around your nails.

"I can't believe that this is how we're first meeting," You breathed, a sense of shyness overwhelming you at the feeling of his skin against yours.

"If you ask me, we've definitely met before. Just not physically." His words had your head spinning so much that you were struggling to remember that you were both at your wedding.

"Poetic," You agreed, trying to present at least outwardly calmer than you felt inside. 

"Oh! Before I forget, I got you this." Seungcheol extended a hand out with a small, wrapped box in his palm. "It wasn't on the registry, and really it's only for you so I thought I should give it to you personally instead of putting it on the gifts table."

"That's really generous of you, you didn't have to." You offered him a shy smile, taking the gift from him. The neatly wrapped box had been laced shut with a pretty blue ribbon, and you remember the thumping of your heart in your chest as you undid it. A small gasp involuntarily left your mouth, your hand moving to cover it in shock. 

"Important backstory - I found it a few years after you told me you were looking for it. I wanted to just send it to you then, but I thought that I should keep it for when we met. I never thought that it would take so long to do so, but I hung on to it just in case."

A small chunk of dark meteorite sat in the box in your hand. Looking up and down between Seungcheol and the rock, you felt your eyes well up with tears that you had to force back down to not ruin your wedding makeup.

"Oh wow," Your voice cracked, "Seungcheol, this is seriously so sweet. I'm shocked that you kept this for me."

You felt unable to tell him all of your emotions, hoping that the gratitude in your eyes was enough to express them all to him. The sweet, adoring expression on his face told you that he understood without you needing to say any more.

That, unfortunately, had been the highlight of your wedding.

Not an hour later, it had all gone to shit, starting with a well-intentioned comment from your best friend.

"The wedding is so gorgeous (Y/n), I'll have to take notes for my own." Jiwoo gushed, pointing at all the flowers that had now been revealed as people moved into the outside area of the venue.

"I know, Daejung did a really good job picking out this place." 

"I'm so happy for you two, especially after the whole Vienna situation."

A bolt of alarm rang through your bones as you a struck still by the comment. You didn't miss the panicked look Mirae sent Jiwoo, who looked equally as confused as you felt.

"What-" You tried to compose yourself amongst the rushes of fear that were threatening to render you completely useful. "What do you mean the Vienna situation?"

Jiwoo was now floundering, looking between you and Mirae with a gaping mouth.

"I just meant - I mean, nevermind - I thought... I thought you knew?" The last whispered part had your heart sinking to the bottom of your chest. Mirae was refusing to meet your gaze, and that was telling you all you needed to know.

"Did something happen when I was away?" You demanded, your voice slick with emotion.

"(Y/n)..." Mirae started, but the withering look you gave her immediately stopped her placating.

Four words later and your entire life had exploded. He cheated on you. Whilst you were away, no less. And then, as if it would magically make everything better, proposed instead of telling you.

The look on your then-husband's face when you stormed up to him demanding to know the truth was enough to convince you of the reality of your friend's words. You could now admit, amidst all of the hurt, anger and disgust you felt towards Daejung at that moment, your overriding emotion was utter panic at the thought of having to tell all of your guests that the wedding was to be stopped and annulled. A trivial emotion amongst the personal grief you were experiencing, but undoubtedly the cause of your greatest distress at the moment.

You didn't see Seungcheol as or after it all happened. Any pretence of calm instantly slipped the moment you began speaking to your family and friends - a speech which ended with you in floods of tears being escorted away from the hosts of shocked guests. It was only hours later that you realised that you hadn't said goodbye and, worse, that you'd invited him all of this way just to witness the shitshow that was your failed marriage. Too ashamed to burden him further, you chose not to write to him for months afterwards He gave you space too, and you weren't sure if you felt grateful for it or utterly alarmed that he may just never want to speak to you again.

May 6th 2021

Dear Seungcheol,

I'm deeply sorry for my complete silence, although I suppose I do not need to explain to you the reason for it. My hand has been itching to pick up my pen and write to you every month that goes by, but only now have I overcome my own shame and disgrace to do so. First of all, I have to sincerely apologise for making you waste your time coming to such an awful event. I can only hope that you managed to get a slice of cake before it all fell apart so that I could at least offer you the condolence of a delicious snack. I also must apologise for completely abandoning you during your trip to the city. I was really looking forward to showing you my favourite spots, and I let my own misery get in the way of being a good host.

I hope you are well. As I haven't heard from you in a little while, I don't know what's going on with you so I have little to comment on. But, at the very least, I wish for your good health and general happiness. If you are worried about me, you don't need to be. I have taken the last few months to put my life back together, and I feel like I'm making better progress these days - hence the letter writing. I'm thinking of getting a dog for companionship since I have vehemently sworn off men for the foreseeable future.

I also wanted you to know that I treasure your gift. As it turns out, meeting you and getting a meteorite was the best part of that night, if you'll believe it. I have it kept in a special box on my desk just to make sure that it's safe and that I'll never lose it. I wish I could have given you something in return. If we end up meeting again I'll have to start planning now to make sure my gift is just as good as yours was. Speaking of, you are welcome to come and stay with me any time you want, and we can rain-check that city tour. Alternatively, if you want to ignore this letter and never speak to me again, I'd also understand.

Yours truly,

(Y/n)

May 19th 2021

Dear (Y/n),

I'm so glad to have heard from you, and that you are doing okay. As much as I appreciate all of your apologies, none of them are necessary. If anything, I feel that I should be apologising to you for leaving you in the dark for just as long as you left me - you had a much better excuse too. Although I didn't want to overwhelm you with letters after such awful news, I realise now that leaving it so long was not the right course of action.

I think getting a dog is a fantastic idea. Company is something you'll never lack with a dog around, and I can agree that dogs are much better companions than men.

As for me, I am doing well too. It's mostly just been a cycle of work and sleep, so I haven't got much to report, but I'm hoping for a more eventful summer. Visiting the city would be a wonderful way to achieve this, so perhaps closer to the time I'll write again to arrange coming to stay with you. I would love to see you again soon. My only other news that I know you'd be interested in is that Jeonghan has seemingly met someone. He's keeping all of the details close to the chest, so I'll have to update you in the next letter when I know more, but it's an exciting revelation. He seems very happy, which is all I can hope for.

When I told you that I wouldn't stop writing to you until I could no longer hold a pen in my hand, I meant it. I hope that you will never again think that I wouldn't want to speak to you -it's the highlight of my day.

Yours,

Seungcheol

P.S. I'm sure you don't want to talk about the wedding, but just so you know - he was a fucking fool to let you go.

You remember the relief you'd felt at getting that letter. The uncertainty of whether or not Seungcheol still wanted to talk to you was enough to keep you on edge for the entire 13 days that it took for you to get his response. But, as always, your friend was reliably there for you.

The time you'd taken over those last new months, and the few months afterwards had been tumultuous, but cleansing. In your post-marriage clarity, you'd realised all of the opportunities you'd missed because of Daejung. Deciding that you wouldn't let him take anything else from you, you'd arranged to go on a long excursion you'd waved off for wedding planning when you'd first heard about it. Learning about the project from one of your old professors who'd transferred to Cairo University, you were offered a position on the ongoing expedition in Saqqara. Although Egyptology was not your speciality, your master's dissertation on the mummified scarab beetles found at Saqqara in 2018 and your tutor's reference got you onto a low-level position on the expedition.

Six months in Egypt had been exactly what you needed to move on from Daejung. At that time, your relationship with your closest friends was also on the rocks, and it was really only Seungcheol and your family that you missed during your time abroad.

December 23rd 2021

Dear Seungcheol,

I've finally got some time off over the holiday break, and I'm ready to give you the download of everything that's happening here in Saqqara! But, first, I'm going to have to beg you for the details of your double date with Jeonghan and Jooyeon. How was it!? Was Jooyeon's friend nice? Were there sparks? How many times did Jeonghan bring up embarrassing stories about you as a kid?

I hope it went well - you deserve all of the happiness in the world.

Now, onto the important stuff!

I'm not sure if you saw on the news, but we've made some pretty huge finds since I got here, Obviously, I can't give myself all the credit, but just being part of the team that made it happen is pretty incredible. We've found multiple tombs of dignitaries from the reign of Ramses II. I'm doing a bit of research on one of the tombs, belonging to a military leader called Hor Mohib, but I have to keep taking breaks every 20 minutes to pinch my arm and remind myself that this is reality.

My Arabic has gotten significantly better now - I was rather rusty when I first got here. I'm able to have reasonably complex conversations with the Egyptian members of the team and the locals helping out, and it's pretty cool for my nerd brain to be surrounded by a group of people equally as excited to be digging up ornamental graves as I am.

I'm really glad I came. It's hard to admit, even to you, but my life really fell apart after the wedding. Honestly, I didn't even know if I wanted to keep working in archaeology or if I wanted to jet off to Iceland and buy a farm. And the worst bit is that it's been so lonely since. Losing Daejung was one thing, but I haven't spoken to Jiwoo or Mirae since. I can't bear to look at them knowing that they hid that secret from me for so long. Maybe one day I'll be able to forgive them, but it certainly won't be now. Your letters have been my only sanctuary of human connection in these past few months, and that's something I'll have to add to my list of neverending gratitude I hold for you.

I realize now that I haven’t been very good at expressing how much your friendship means to me, how it's been my lifeline in this mess. Your letters are the only constant, the only thing that feels like home even when I am surrounded by ancient wonders and new colleagues.

And so, I have a confession. I want to see you again. I want to tell you all of this in person. I can't say what will come of it, but I know that after all of these years, after all the letters and confessions and secrets shared, we owe it to ourselves to meet in a way that isn't rushed or overshadowed by anything else.

Maybe we could meet halfway between Seoul and Daegu, or I could take the train down to visit you? I need to see you again, not as a guest at my ruined wedding, but as Seungcheol, the one person who’s known me at my best and worst, and still chooses to write back.

Let me know what you think.

Yours truly, 

(Y/n)

P.S. I've included a small rock I found on the dig - nothing special but it reminded me of our old conversations. I hope it makes you smile.

P.P.S. Please don't feel pressured to say yes, but know that I would really like to see you again.

You can't quite recall what possessed you to write such a bold letter. Perhaps it had been the desert sun, the thrill of discovering something new in something old at Saqqara, or simply your immense loneliness.

Days had turned into weeks as you anxiously waited for a response, checking your makeshift mailbox daily. Then one morning, there it was—a simple white envelope with Seungcheol’s familiar sloping handwriting.

January 17th 2022

My Dear (Y/n),

I've thought about meeting you countless times since our first encounter. After reading your words, I realise that I've been waiting for this just as much as you have. How's this - I'll take the first train up to Seoul when you're back and we can spend the day together. No distractions, no interruptions - just you and me, finally getting to know each other beyond the pages of our letters.

I'm looking forward to me, more than I can express. Until I see you again, take care, and know that I'm counting down the days.

All yours,

Seungcheol

P.S. the best bit about the date was spending time with Jeonghan. No more needs to be said.

You stare down at the letter, your heart pacing as fast as it had the first time you'd received it. Beautiful words from a beautiful man with a beautiful soul.

You'd gotten back to Seoul by the end of March 2022, and, as promised, Seungcheol came to visit you that first weekend in April. When he'd stepped off the train in the bustling station at the heart of the city, you were there to greet him. You'd spotted him standing there, taller even than you'd remembered, with that same easy smile that had always leapt off of the page.

The world around you had seemed to blur as you walked toward each other, nerves fluttering in your stomach but quickly dissolving as he pulled you into a gentle, lingering hug. The connection between you, once confined to words on paper, felt more real than ever.

You spent the day wandering through the city, visiting old bookstores, sipping coffee in quiet cafes, and talking as if no time had passed since that fateful wedding reception. Every shared laugh, every story swapped, deepened the bond you'd forged in ink.

June 14th 2022

Seungcheol,

It feels like only yesterday that we were wandering through Seoul together, but at the same time, it feels like a lifetime ago. I keep finding myself replaying that day in my mind - how easy it was to talk to you in person, as if we'd done it a hundred times before. It's strange, isn't it? How someone can feel so familiar, even when they're a whole new experience at the same time.

I've been thinking about our conversation in the bookstore. You said something about how some stories are better left unfinished, that sometimes the best part of a tale is imagining what could be. I can't stop thinking about that - about how some stories do need an ending, and how others are meant to keep going, even if we don’t know where they’ll lead.

There's something I've been meaning to tell you, but I haven't found the right words yet. I guess I'm still figuring it out myself. It's just that being around you feels different to how I expected. There's a comfort, yes, but also something more, something I can't quite define. It's like we're on the edge of something new, and it's exciting and a little terrifying at the same time. I'm not sure if you feel it too, but I hope you do.

Anyway, I don't want to get too ahead of myself as usual. I'm just really glad we've reconnected, and that we've managed to keep in touch after all these years. 

It means more to me than I can say. Let’s make sure our next meeting isn’t too far off—I’m already looking forward to it.

Until then, take care of yourself, and don’t work too hard. I’ll be watching the clock until I see you again.

Yours, 

(Y/n)

That day in April 2022 hadn't been the last time you saw Seungcheol. You'd made that mistake once in the past, and neither of you was willing to do so again. He continued to come to Seoul to see you, and you travelled down to Daegu to meet him and his friends. Your letters ceased for a while over this time due to the frequency you were seeing each other, but for the first time that didn't bother you.

You remember, with teary eyes, the day that you finally confessed your feelings.

It was 25th September 2022, after a whole summer spent together, and the air was tinged with the first hint of autumn's chill. THe leaves were just beginning to turn, painting the streets in warm hues of amber and crimson as you walked side by side in a quiet part in Seoul. The easy laughter and conversation that had marked your friendship over the years felt heavier that day, as it something unspoken was lingering in the crisp air between you.

You had spent countless days together that summer - visiting museums, trying new restaurants, even embarking on a spontaneous week trip to the coast. Each moment with Seunngchaeol had felt like a dream, a slow realisation that your heart was no longer just content with friendship. But with that realization came a fear you hadn't expected. What if this was enough for him? What if risking everything by confessing how you truly felt would unravel the beautiful bond you had spent so many years cultivating?

That evening, as the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the park, you found yourselves sitting on a bench overlooking a small pond. The water was still, reflecting the fiery colours of the sky, and for a long moment, neither of you spoke. Seungcheol had been quieter than usual that day, his expression pensive as if he, too, was wrestling with unspoken thoughts.

You felt your heart pound in your chest, each beat louder than the last as you tried to summon the courage to speak. The words were caught in your throat, but the fear of losing him if you didn’t say them was stronger. Finally, unable to hold it in any longer, you turned to him, your voice trembling as you broke the silence.

"Seungcheol," you began, your hands nervously fidgeting in your lap. He turned to look at you, his eyes soft and attentive, encouraging you to continue. "There’s something I need to tell you… something I’ve been feeling for a while now."

His gaze didn’t waver, but you noticed the slight hitch in his breath, the way his fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the bench. The world seemed to shrink to just the two of you, everything else fading away as you gathered your thoughts.

"I—" You paused, trying to find the right words, but there were none that seemed adequate to express the depth of your feelings. "I think I’ve fallen in love with you."

The admission hung in the air between you, a fragile confession that you could no longer take back. For a moment, time seemed to stop, the world holding its breath as you waited for his response. You searched his face for any sign of what he might be thinking, every second feeling like an eternity.

Then, without a word, Seungcheol reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear that had escaped down your cheek. There was a tenderness in his touch, a warmth that radiated through you, calming your racing heart.

"I’ve been waiting to hear those words," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Because I’ve been feeling the same way for a long time too."

His words washed over you, a wave of relief and joy so overwhelming that you felt your breath hitch. You had been so afraid, so uncertain, and now, with his quiet confession, all those fears melted away. He leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull back if you needed to, but you didn’t. You closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a gentle, tender kiss that felt like a promise—one of many yet to come.

Hearing the doorbell ring down below you, and the sound of your husband's voice calling out to say he'll get it, you rush forward to reach your favourite letter - just one more before you return to reality.

November 3rd 2023

My dearest (Y/n),

I'm so glad you're having such a good time in Rome - I'm rather jealous of all of your sightseeing and pasta-eating. Kkuma and I are holding the fort down at home, although I had to be scolded yesterday for breaking the toaster when I tried to make Kkuma some breakfast. I sent some more suncream over in the mail because I know you've already run out and forgotten to get some more - I'm not sure if this letter will reach you first, but if it does look out for the parcel.

Now, I'll admit, the main purpose of my letter is something a little different than simply catching up, as much as I love those letters too. I thought about doing this once you returned home, but you've already had one man declare his everlasting intentions to you after you returned from an excursion, so I thought it better to avoid rehashing those memories (we'll do this again when you're home, but I thought it might be fun to do it this way).

If you have the suncream box already, then you may have a sneaking suspicion of what I'm about to say.

I've loved you for as long as I've known you. As a twelve-year-old kid, I didn't know that was what it was, but the level of obsession I had with writing to you and receiving your replies was beyond any normal friendship. You were always so fascinatingly cool, out of reach, and genuinely yourself. Being in love with your pen pal isn't always an easy thing - the cold sweats I would wake up to after dreaming about meeting for the first time, the constant updates about a life that I wasn't a part of, the announcement of your engagement to another person. I tried to pretend it wasn't real for a long time, see other people, because of how silly I felt about being in love with someone I'd never met.

And then I saw you standing there, in that beautiful white gown with your hair up and that gorgeous smile on your face. Did you know that my hands were sweating when I gave you that gift? I don't think I've ever told you that before. I became certain then that I was completely screwed. Entirely head over heels.

I'll never be happy that that marriage didn't work out for you - all I've ever wanted is your happiness, be that with me or someone else. But I won't lie and say that nothing has made me happier than the consequences of it.

This past year has been the happiest time I've ever known. Every moment with you is filled with such joy, and every moment without I'm left with a record of memories to remind me of the time we've had together. When I look at you, I don't just see my past, but also my future. I see a lifetime of shared experiences, of laughter, or quiet moments that mean more than words ever could. I see us growing old together, supporting each other, and playing trash hockey on the wooden floor of our kitchen.

You are my best friend, my partner, the love of my life. And I want to spent every day making sure you know just how much you mean to me.

So, that being said, will you (Y/n) (Y/l/n), do me the honour of marrying me?

All yours,

Seungcheol

P.S. Please don't feel pressured to say yes, but know that I would really like it if you did.

You fiddle with the precious ring on your left hand, your fingers lingering over the smooth chunk of dark stone in the centre.

A gentle brush of a hand on your shoulders brings you back to the real world, tears now flaking on your cheeks as you sniffle at the words on the page.

"Are you okay, darling?" Seungcheol asks gently.

"Yes, sorry, I know the guests are here now - I just wanted to look at these," You reply, holding up the letters for your husband to see.

You watch his expression soften, a suggestion of moisture in the corner of his eyes as he looks over the written words.

Swooping down, he places a long, loving kiss on your forehead, letting your bodies rest together in harmony for a moment.

"I can't believe they still make me cry," You huff, letting out a soft laugh. "And I don't even think I can brush it off as hormones."

"Seeing that just looking at them has me tearing up, I don't think I can either." Seungcheol smiles, stroking the back of your hair affectionately.

"They're probably getting antsy downstairs, right?" You say, beginning to pile the letters back up into the box.

Standing up, you lean forward to press all of your passion and adoration onto your husband's lips. You can feel his intensity matching yours, his hands finding the side of your hips to keep you stable.

"They can wait," Seungcheol replies, his forehead leaning softly against your own. "They're not the ones who are pregnant after all."

You laugh, a sound filled with both joy and contentment, feeling the warmth of his love surrounding you. "I suppose you're right," you say, a smile spreading across your face. You take one last glance at the box of letters, a testament to the incredible journey you've both shared—one that began with innocent childhood exchanges and blossomed into a love story more profound than you could have ever imagined.

Hand in hand, you and Seungcheol make your way downstairs to greet your guests, the letters safely tucked away in their satin box. As you step into the room, you know that no matter what the future holds, you'll always have those words, those memories, and most importantly, each other.

[aces-and-angels]

seeing the influx of gfm campaigns on your dash may be overwhelming- the purpose of this post is to help others navigate through the many gfm links that are circulating here on this site- esp. those that find their way directly to you via your inbox. this advice is specific to tumblr- i cannot speak on other platforms (instagram, twitter, etc.) though some things i say may be applicable

disclaimer: i do not vet/verify any campaigns myself. i simply want people who are willing to engage with these types of posts to do so in a safe manner

read more below:

---

what to do if you get a message from an account claiming to be 🇵🇸 in your inbox:

-> step 1: do not immediately dismiss it as spam

to quote one of nabulsi's posts:

"... you cannot generalise with Gazans if their tumblr blog is only a few days or a few hours old.

Gazans on tumblr are making accounts for the express purpose of spreading their fundraisers because it is spreading amongst Gazans that tumblr is a safe place to do so.

They could often be making multiple blogs and even remaking after staff flags them as spam. But don't blanket assume that Gazans are scammers if they're on a new tumblr blog with no pfp or content.

I agree that until a fundraiser is vetted you shouldn't reblog it in case it is someone dishonest taking advantage of the circumstances in Gaza. But you cannot do the opposite and immediately assume they're a scammer. I'm seeing people harass Gazans sometimes who genuinely are people who just don't know how to use tumblr and are falsely raising red flags because of it." (read full post here)

to sum it up: don't hit 'report' right away- marinate a lil and put on a detective hat

-> step 2: background check

the following are accounts that are known to vet/verify gfm campaigns here on tumblr. note- this is not a comprehensive list:

el-shab-hussein

nabulsi

90-ghost* (edit 8/4: recently announced that ahmed will no longer be vetting/verifying new campaigns)

ibtisams* (only has done it on situational basis; is not currently vetting new campaigns- read post here)

rubashabansblog (has been promoting other palestinians who lost their tumblr accounts; currently living under occupation)

heba-20 (unsure if heba takes request to vet others personally but is a reliable source for finding legitimate campaigns)

northgazaupdates

fairuzfan (says they are less active on tumblr these days/not currently vetting new campaigns but is a reliable source)

i recommend giving these individuals a follow if you haven't already as they provide far more information regarding all things 🇵🇸. they've all put in a lot of work to make the process i'm sharing with y'all as simple as possible. also please be respectful if you try reaching out to any of them. they are likely getting a high volume of asks and may not be able to respond to you quickly

important note: it has been recently announced that nabulsi + el-shab-hussein have stopped vetting new accounts for the time being and are only focusing on campaigns that have already been vetted. read their full statement here and here

to start- check out the person's account. this can be a hit or miss depending on how new the account is. however- you may notice that the person in question has stated that they have been vetted:

good signs so far- but better to be safe than sorry. next thing to do is search the username of the person who messaged you on tumblr. it's likely if you got a message like the one pictured above, others may have received one as well and did the digging for you:

if you can't find a clear answer with tumblr's illustrious search bar/want to confirm someone's claim that the campaign in question was already verified, the next thing to do is check one of the following:

el-shab-hussein's pinned post

el-shab-hussein/nabulsi's google sheet

imo, this process is far easier to do while on a laptop/desktop vs. mobile app. ctrl+f is your friend in this scenario as is the ability to click through multiple tabs. for el-shab-hussein's pinned post, i click through the multiple lists and see if any names match. in ruba's case, she was found under List of fundraisers for my direct contacts from Ghazzah & Sudan:

and for the google sheet- her campaign is no. 90 on the list:

tip: to narrow down your search even further- ctrl+f the title of the person's gfm campaign that they've linked on their tumblr account:

-> step 3: share your findings + follow that account

if everything checks out- ✨share le campaign✨ provide the link to it in your response to the ask + where it was verified. make it easier for the next person who gets a message to figure out that the gfm is real

following 🍉accounts is esp. important since the forces that be are keen on suppressing them at every turn. the more eyes on these accounts- the easier it'll be to determine the legitimacy of any new accounts they may need to make

---

okay, but... scams 😬:

-> step 1: seek a master

people can be assholes- and anyone trying to make a profit off of an ongoing genocide can eat glass

anyways- the following are accounts that are known to identify scam posts on tumblr (again, not a comprehensive list. these are just the one's ive seen/most familiar with):

mangocheesecakes

kyra45

kyra45's pinned post contains a plethora of resources to help determine if a post/message is a scam- and not just in regards to 🇵🇸- key goes in on many types of scams. please refer to their guides (and be sure that you are reading the most recent version of key's posts)

-> step 2: if you see sumn, say sumn

we're human and sometimes things slip our radar. so if you ever see someone on here sharing a known scam, do 'em a solid and let them know about it regardless if you are mutuals or not

---

final/misc. thoughts:

it's good practice to double check a campaign's verification with these tools for yourself regardless of how legitimate it looks. note that checking for a gfm's verification is not the same as verifying them. that work should be left to qualified individuals with experience in doing so. this is why it's bad to attempt things you are not qualified to tackle also- i think it's important to remember that transferring 💵 from a gfm campaign to those in need requires a lot of pieces to be perfectly set in place. if you see 🇵🇸 blogs linking alt. methods of raising funds (ex. p*ypal/k*fi) the reason could be that their gfms were frozen/suspended for a myriad of reasons. as always- check credible sources if you are unsure about a campaign you may come across notice how the spreadsheet provided here has over 100+ campaigns listed. generating a list that extensive requires hard work that is undoubtedly both physically and mentally straining to the individuals who are involved in making it. i've seen some accounts myself that have had to announce that they can no longer continue to vet campaigns because it has taken that much of a toll on their wellbeing. do not let their efforts go wasted

other resources:

some other places/grassroot organizations where you can find vetted campaigns:

operation olive branch (oob)

gazafunds

operation poppy flower (now also linked in oob's sheet)

operation watermelon

project watermelon

strawberry seeds collective

ottawa4palestine

camps breakerz crew

gofund(water)me(lons)

flowersfromfalasteen

[coochiequeens]

Good news for my same sex attracted sisters.

Lesbian dating app to use facial recognition to exclude trans women from matching with biological females

By SANCHEZ MANNING and SUE REID

PUBLISHED: 19:03 EDT, 1 June 2024 

The first dating app for lesbians is set to launch – using sex-recognition technology to exclude trans women and ensure only biological females can sign up.

It is the brainchild of feminist campaigner Jenny Watson, who says there are currently no dating apps which cater purely for women who want same-sex relationships.

The current crop of dating apps, she says, are increasingly being used by males who identify as female and who say they too are lesbian.

L'App will use facial recognition technology to verify a person as a biological female.

Ms Watson said would-be users will have to go through a process when they sign up where the app scans their face via their smartphone.

It is the brainchild of feminist campaigner Jenny Watson (pictured), who says there are currently no dating apps which cater purely for women who want same-sex relationships

The software, which Ms Watson claims is 99 per cent accurate, analyses features including bone structure, the shape and positioning of an individual's eyes, eyebrows and nose shape or size. It will also be able to detect if a person is presenting a live image rather than just putting a photo of a woman up to the camera by detecting movement, blinking motions and heat emissions.

Tests have revealed that if someone tries to disguise themselves as a woman by putting on a wig or make-up, the technology will spot the deception.

Ms Watson, 32, a town planner, told The Mail on Sunday: 'There is no female-only dating apps at the moment. Lesbians need an app which they can use without being messaged by trans-identifying males.'

She said L'App had also been developed in response to many lesbians finding that they were being banned from existing apps if they dared to specify that they wanted to date only natal females. Speaking about her own personal experience, she said: 'Any time I've joined a lesbian dating app or any other dating app myself, I get banned.

'To avoid trans-identified males, I will always write a little blurb, nothing disrespectful, saying my preference is for women and please respect my boundaries.

'And every time I do that I get banned. On one app I was asked to put down my most controversial opinion, so I wrote that J. K. Rowling was right and was banned for that. It's insane.'

Ms Watson has previously campaigned to protect lesbian spaces, by hosting female-only speed dating nights. She plans to open UK's first single-sex lesbian bar.

She has been criticised as transphobic for excluding transgender women – which she rejects. Her launch comes as a court case is being heard in Australia over whether a trans woman can be lawfully excluded from a female-only social networking app called Giggle.

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man Part 9

Fic Summary: Steve 'the Hair' Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you'll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

Chapter Summary: You and Eddie go on your first date, but the past always lingers. 6.5 words

(1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8)

Note: Y'all get to be a little horny in this one. As a treat <3 Also the poll results said you don't mind small details of what you all are wearing, and that you wanted to dress moderately slutty so I tried to keep that in mind. Enjoy!

Eddie kept his promise. For the next few days the two of you found yourself talking on the phone a lot between work shifts, band practice, and school. Late night talks became the norm, the two of you spending your evenings opening up to each other bit by bit. 

You told him about Family Video and gave him the scoop of which of his peers were renting from the back rooms, and he told you about his own shifts at the Hideout and about the weird things his drunk usuals would say. Bev had been giving him shifts again, which was at least a small steady income compared to his usual dealings.

The next Tuesday you had gone to the Hideout with Eddie, this time with him picking you up and dropping you off after. It wasn’t a date, not exactly. It was just two people who had an interest in each other hanging out with other people. Eddie had said the main reason it wasn’t a date was because he was technically working, and he didn’t want your first official date to have his band mates tagging along. Of course, that didn’t stop them from giving him knowing looks and giving him shit whenever your back was turned. Eddie would carefully keep tabs on how often they would do it, and would make them pay later during their campaign. 

That was fine with you, you were still more than happy to just spend time with Eddie and learn more about him. Watching him play guitar was mesmerizing and it was nice to be able to gawk at him in peace during his set without Steve telling you to close your mouth and stop drooling. 

After the set and dropping everyone else at home, the two of you had spent another two hours in his van just talking. Now that everything was out in the open, that awkwardness that had been between the two of you had faded into nothing. You found that talking to Eddie was as easy as talking to Steve, and you loved hearing about all of his stories from Hellfire and hearing him talk about his music. 

The only reason the two of you didn’t stay up until morning parked in front of your apartment building was because Eddie was reminded by you that he was still in school and needed to get some sleep for class the next day. When you kissed his cheek again before sliding out of his van he made a mental note to beg Bev to go on with Corroded Coffin on a Friday or Saturday for once. 

Halloween was on a Thursday this year, and you had made it very clear to Keith that you were not going to be working that night, or the next day. You had saved up all your bartering chips of overtime and days where you came in when anyone else couldn’t. You had put in your time off request three months in advance. 

Work could have you any other day of the week, but Halloween was yours and yours alone. You’d work Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter, Arbor Day, and Groundhog Day. You’d forgo Easter Sunday, New Years Eve and Day, and you wouldn’t bat an eye at Valentines day. But Halloween? That was yours and yours alone. 

It was the one day out of the year that you felt like you could be you. Even after the monster that is Hawkins High tried to strip you of being yourself, you pushed through and came out the other side of graduation with a new determination to never water yourself down again. You worked your ass off to save for your own run down apartment, to find clothing that you loved and not just what your peers told you to wear to blend in. 

If you wanted to show up to a shift on Halloween dressed as Han Solo with a Teddy Bear, you damn well could and no one could stop you. Not even Keith. 

But lucky for you, when the schedule for the week was posted that Monday, your name was thankfully cleared for Thursday and Friday. Keith could handle himself for those two morning shifts, and Robin and Steve could handle the evenings. It’s not like Family Video was really busy or open late on Thursday nights and you trusted Steve and Robin to handle the Friday rush. 

You woke up that Thursday feeling like it was your own personal Christmas. You took your time to wake up, have breakfast and get ready for the day. You almost called Eddie before you remembered that it was still a weekday and he would be in school. Besides, it would be weird to call him before your first date, right? 

Steve had given you a crash course on first dates over your shared shifts. His advice was a mixed bag to say the least. Every time he gave you insight into the male mind on how to act or dress or talk on a first date he would then backtrack when he remembered who he was talking to and who this first date was with. 

“Listen, you got this far by being a weirdo.” Steve had finally said after the conversation had basically gone nowhere. “I guess keep talking about eating bats and fake being drunk and you’ll get the guy.”

“You know, when you put it like that I’m starting to see why maybe this whole casual dating thing hasn’t worked for me in the past.” you had replied. 

Most of your Halloween was spent by yourself, but that wasn’t a bad thing. You started off with a nice slow morning of carving your annual jack o'lantern, having learned the hard way to not put it out early, lest it rot or be smashed by asshole kids in the neighborhood. The afternoon was spent around town, just taking in the crisp fall air and the decorations set up by all of the shops.. 

The hypocrisy in this town was stunning sometimes. Every other day of the year you had been followed by whispers of the Satanic Panic and any idea that something other than the norm might be related to something more nefarious was ostracized. Sometimes you could understand where the fear was coming from, after all the Byers kid had disappeared, presumed dead, and then had come back all within a week a few years ago. Barbara Holland had been killed by chemicals in the Hawkins Lab. There was even the fire at the mall that had killed the police chief, as well as the local lifeguard. It seemed like every single year some new tragedy would strike the small town. 

You couldn’t wait to run away to somewhere else. 

But for now, the day was yours and the night was Eddie’s. Your stomach flipped every time you thought about meeting up with him tonight. You had built up this production a lot over the past few days. You had seen the shadow cast about once a month since you were old enough to go at 18, give or take a few times where you had other plans. 

Each time you had gone, you had checked the board hoping to see the announcement that they would be opening auditions to be part of the cast or crew. But the show was tight knit, and that rarely happened. 

But at least that meant that tonight you could share something with Eddie other than your origami. Not that you were embarrassed by your hobby, but compared to running a D&D campaign and being in a band, it didn’t feel like much. 

You never seemed to run out of things to talk about with Eddie though, during your late night talks on the phone. When you weren’t captivated by his tales of running Hellfire or the inspiration for his music, you two would talk about everything else. Music, movies, the occasional small town gossip, anything you two could think of. You had already compiled a small list of movies that only one of you had seen, because all new relationships always start with “What do you mean you haven’t seen this movie?!”

That’s how you and Steve and Robin had bonded over those first few months. It probably wouldn’t be that much different with Eddie. 

After a long stroll through the town, a quick stop in to your favorite coffee shop for a treat, and a bout of window shopping in the Halloween aisles of local stores, you made your way home. You considered dropping by the high school to see Eddie as the afternoon came to a close, but you didn’t want to seem desperate. You’d see him soon enough anyway. 

As the evening went on, you popped in a few thematically appropriate movies that you watched between doing your hair and make up and passing out candy to kids who came up to your door. You may or may not have saved some of the best candy for yourself. And Eddie. He liked Snickers right? You hoped he did. 

You were ready a good two hours before you needed to meet him at the theater at midnight. You were starting to wish that you had invited him over to pre-game before the movie, but unfortunately you had listened to some of Steve’s advice and were left sitting around in your fishnets and dark lipstick for your first date with Eddie. The only thing you weren’t wearing yet were your tall boots which you only broke out for this showing because they were too uncomfortable to wear anywhere else. 

Steve had relented that you were going to dress weird for the date, considering the day and the nature of what you and Eddie were doing, but he said it’d be too weird to get ready with him. 

You decided that next time would be different. Next year, you’d have Eddie over all day, and the two of you would spend the day carving pumpkins and listening to music and arguing over what movie to watch as you passed out candy. Eddie would probably be stingy with the candy so that there would be leftovers for the two of you at the end of the night, and you’d be giving bars out by the handfuls. Maybe the two of you would cough up the dough for some full sized candy bars for kids with really fun costumes and-

What were you doing? You weren’t even officially dating yet, the first date hadn’t even happened! You were getting ahead of yourself, and thinking way too far ahead. You didn’t need to be thinking these domestic thoughts about a guy you barely knew. 

Get your shit together. You scolded yourself. Let’s try and go on one date first, then maybe have dirty thoughts about him and then I can have mushy domestic thoughts about him if things go well.

You were really hoping things went well. 

After around 10 pm the trick-or-treaters tapered off and you dumped the remaining candy in your bag for the movie. Your hand itched for the phone around 10:30, your brain telling you that it was getting late and that you should call Eddie now if you wanted to talk to him before bed, and you reminded yourself that you’ll see him in an hour. 

The hour could not go any slower. 

“Steve, I’m freaking out.” you said into the phone the second he picked up. “What the fuck am I doing?!”

“You’re going on a date with Eddie Munson to a midnight showing of a movie that has no plot.” he yawned. 

You resisted the urge to hang up on him and instead paced around your living room, holding onto the phone. 

“Steve, I’m serious!” 

“So am I, the more you talk about the movie the less sense it makes.” 

You lightly smacked your head against the wall. “How do you do this every week with different girls?! I’m going on one date and I feel too damn antsy.”

The chord to your phone stretched to its limit as you walked towards your bookshelf and pulled out your senior year yearbook, flipping through it. 

“Dating is like any other skill, you have to practice and actually do it to be any good.” Steve sighed into the phone. 

“I hate that.” you said, looking through the Ms. Maddison... Morrison.... Munson. 

No photo available, what the actual fuck? You flipped through the book, to the club section but there was no trace or whisper of the Hellfire Club at all in the 1984 Hawkins High yearbook. 

“This was your idea.” Steve reminded you as you pushed the book away and reached for 1983’s yearbook. 

“And? I have a lot of ideas and not all of them are good.” You flipped through the book, trying to find Eddie’s name and photo. Why hadn’t you thought of this before?

“So... are you chickening out, again?” You could hear the mild annoyance in his voice. 

“No! I’m just... I’m just nervous, alright? I haven’t been on a date since Junior year. Wait no, there was that horrible study date in Senior year. It’s been a while okay?” you groaned. 

You scanned the Ms again, stopping for a split second to snicker at Chris Morrison’s horrible yearbook photo. His hair was an unfortunate overgrown sandy haircut that looked like a bad mix of a mullet and a bowl cut, with a fringe that fell in his gray eyes. His face was stoic and he looked like he wanted to kill whoever was in charge of the camera. 

A few photos later was Eddie Munson’s Junior year photo. Somehow seeing his face in your yearbook made your shoulders relax a little bit. You at least could confirm that you had indeed gone to school with him. His face was softer looking, and his hair fell just below his jawline.You saw a peak of his Hellfire shirt, the same one in Chris’s photo. He was smiling, well as best as a teenage boy who doesn’t want to get his photo taken would smile. It was endearing, and something in the back of your mind started nagging at you that this Eddie looked more familiar. 

“Hello? Anyone home?” 

You snapped back to reality, remembering that you were on the phone with Steve. “Yeah, sorry I got distracted. What was that?” 

“I said you shouldn’t be nervous.” Steve repeated. “You like him. He likes you. It’s not that complicated. He wouldn’t have shown up that night if he didn’t have an interest in you.”

“Oh, but what if it is that complicated, Stevie?” You sighed dramatically. “After all, the three of us seem to be horribly unlucky in love.”

“You’re telling me.” Steve admitted. “Three dozen dates later and I’m still looking for that spark.” 

Steve had been head over heels for Nancy Wheeler, and had his heart crushed. You hadn’t had any luck in love ever, with only a few failed dates under your belt from high school, and two one-night stands. Robin... you couldn’t get a read on her. She seemed to have a crush on someone, and Steve definitely knew who it was but they weren’t telling you. It hurt a little, but you knew that the two had a bond that you wouldn’t be able to touch. If Robin wanted to tell you, she would. 

Okay, you did ask and make sure that the person she was crushing on wasn’t Eddie. The last thing you wanted was to date someone who your friend had feelings for. Thankfully, Robin had quickly cleared up that she didn’t even know Eddie and therefore can confidently say that she had absolutely no feelings for the guy, romantic or otherwise. 

Steve spent the next half hour calming you down and talking to you as you flipped through your high school yearbooks, picking out Eddie’s photo in each one. There was even a small blurb about the Hellfire Club in your freshman yearbook. As you delved deeper in time, his hair got shorter and shorter, and he looked more and more familiar. 

Where did you know this guy from? 

When the clock struck 11 pm, you said your goodbye to Steve, checked yourself out in the mirror one last time, and made your way to the theater. 

It was twenty minutes until show time when you parked your car and made your way into the lobby. The yellow lights illuminated the crowd of people who had shown up for the annual midnight screening, and you took a deep breath as you scanned the crowd. 

Just for tonight, you felt like you could breathe. 

Freaks and weirdos from all over had come together for a night of sex jokes, aliens, music, and yelling at a screen. The room was filled with people covered in leather, and lingerie and costumes from both the show and other media. There were a few familiar faces, and you spotted two people that you recognized from the shadow cast in the corner. They looked... upset. Not at each other, you recognized the way they were talking to each other. You and Steve and Robin had given each other the same looks before when Keith had fucked up the schedule or a customer pissed one of you off. 

Whatever was the matter, the two quickly finished their bitch session and made their way back into the theater. You wondered what that was about, but didn’t have time to think about it too hard because a hand fell on your shoulder. 

Your breath caught in your throat when you turned around to see your date. Eddie’s hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, which really showed his jawline and really long neck you wondered what the square of his jaw would feel like against your lips. He hadn’t ditched his battle vest or leather jacket you weren’t complaining and he was wearing a cropped shirt . You had to force yourself to not look at his exposed midriff you’ve never wanted to bite someone’s hips before holy shit, or note the fine trail of hair just below his belly button that dipped into his dark ripped jeans where a peak of blue boxers were peaking out. Did he taste as good as he looked?!  He had swapped out a few of his rings, but the obsidian one on his right hand stayed, and the chains on his jacket, bracelet and wallet made a noise with every movement he made. What would that sound like if he was on top of you? 

A small voice in the back of your mind told you that Dustin Henderson could rent any movie he ever wanted ever forever as long as you worked Family Video. 

You pushed those sudden X rated feelings down, and smiled up at him. “Hey, I’m glad you made it.” you managed to say, tongue tied as you thought about what you’d rather your tongue suddenly be doing- 

Eddie’s eyes drifted down your outfit in the same way that you were sure you had just looked at him. The idea that he might also be thinking similar thoughts about you made your heart race before he turned away. He was now looking around the lobby with wide eyes, taking in all the different people his expression was somewhere between elation and disbelief. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many freaks in person.” he said, his eyes darting around to the crowds of people. 

“You aren’t at Hawkins High and these aren’t children.” you said, watching his expression. “It’s why I like coming here each month. I get to meet people who are more like me.”

Eddie took in the scene, and you took in Eddie. Horny thoughts aside, you wondered how often he got to see people who weren’t cut from the standard Hawkins cookie cutter. From what he’d told you during your late night calls, his social circle was tiny. His only friends were in Hawkins, except for one Ronnie Ecker. 

You had escaped the monster that was Hawkins High School, even if you were still stuck in the beast of a town. You didn’t have much room to judge his smaller group when Steve and Robin were the only ones who you reliably hung out with on a regular basis. Even then, you knew that the two of them had a connection that went deeper than just coworkers and people who went to school together. 

Did Eddie have someone that he connected with the same way Robin and Steve did? There were so many things about him that you still wanted to know about him. 

A voice called your name, and your eyes lit up as you saw Robin and Steve walking over to the two of you. Excitement then shifted to confusion, wait, what were they doing here? Did they come here to crash your date? That didn’t seem right, not after Steve had put in so much effort into making sure that this date actually happened. 

You and Robin hugged and Steve gave a slightly awkward hello. Eddie was looking between you and your two friends, looking just as confused as you felt. 

“Hey, Robin!” you said, trying to figure out what was going on. “What are you guys doing here?”

“You invited us a month ago, remember?” Robin asked. “You made a big deal about dragging us to the Halloween showing this year and Steve and I got tickets. But don’t worry! We know this is a date so me and Steve are going to sit at the opposite side of the theater and make sure that we don’t bother you. Of course, Steve said that we shouldn’t come but we had already bought the tickets and I wanted to come and see this again.”

Oh... oh shit. Right. You had done that, hadn’t you? Before you and Steve had even started this whole thing, you had been bugging him to come see it with you. Robin had come and done it once with you earlier at the end of Summer, but Steve hadn’t been able to make it. 

In a sea of lingerie, leather, and sequins, Steve stood out like a sore thumb in his yellow sweater and tall hair. For once, he looked like the odd one out. Robin had always had a slightly edgier style, and with her sharpied black nails and chain necklaces, she fit right in. 

You were going to give Steve so much shit for it later. 

“Look, I didn’t expect us to actually come out tonight until Robin called and demanded I pick her up.” Steve said, apologetically. 

“I see what’s going on.” Eddie spoke up, looking between the three of you. “Mom and Dad are here to chaperone your first date.” 

You threw your head back and cackled at the joke, laughing unabashedly. 

“Steve’s the single mom with six kids.” Robin said. “But I’m not Dad, I’m more like the cool weird aunt.” 

“‘Why am I always the mom?!” Steve demanded. 

“Because you have six kids, Steve, keep up.” you pointed out. “But we all know Dustin’s your favorite.” 

“I’m telling Wheeler.” Eddie chimed in. 

“I’m not the mom, I’m the babysitter!” 

“You literally gave Max lunch money two weeks ago.”

“That doesn’t mean-”

“Oh look! They’re starting to tag the Virgins!” You suddenly said excitedly. 

Steve and Eddie stopped and stared at you, as your eyes darted to the two cast members that you had seen earlier. Whatever they had been bitching about was now put aside, and they were now walking around, each holding a bright red tube of lipstick. They had approached some guy and drew a giant V on their forehead. 

“Right, I didn’t really tell you about this.” you explained. “So at each showing, if you’ve never seen the movie in theaters you’re called a ‘virgin’. So, there’s a bit of a hazing ritual for newcomers. They call it the Virgin Sacrifice here. Basically, they draw a V on your forehead, and then before the show starts they’ll have the Virgins come up on stage, do some sort of dare or task, and then the movie starts.”

“How bad is it?” Steve asked as Robin grabbed his arm and started dragging him to the cast members. 

“It’s usually not that bad.” You said. “When I was a Virgin Sacrifice a few years ago they had me ‘Pledge Allegiance to the Lips’ and taught me how to do the Time Warp on stage while the sprayed me with silly string.” 

“When I went they had all of us blow up a bunch of red balloons and then hit them with thumb tacks when they were still in our mouths.” Robin laughed. “They called it ‘The Great Cherry Popping’.”

“Oh my God, I remember that one guy had crazy lung capacity and blew up like, ten in a row!” you cackled. 

“What do you think they’ll have us do?” Eddie asked, and for a second your brain froze as you felt his hand wrap around yours as you started to approach the cast members. You could feel the metal of his rings, warmed by his skin, pressing into yours. 

“They always mix it up every month so it’s hard to say.” you said. “But they always go crazy for the Virgin Sacrifices on Halloween.” 

“Got a fresh Virgin for you!” Robin says, shoving Steve in front of the Columbia actress who looked Steve up and down as if she were going to eat him. 

“Aww, a cute little Virgin just for me?!” she squealed. “You shouldn’t have! Come here, Big Boy.”

Steve didn’t have much time to react as a large V was placed on his forehead with the lipstick. He didn’t seem to mind, however, when Columbia leaned over and gave him a big kiss on the cheek, leaving a large lipstick stain. 

“You know, maybe I’m seeing the appeal of this.” He said as you pushed Eddie up next. 

“A two for one deal for ya, Columbia!” you said proudly. 

“Two?!” Her eyes lit up, and you could tell that she was having the time of her life. “Is it my birthday?!” 

She looked at Eddie and pushed his bangs back as she drew the V on his forehead and gave him a smooch on the cheek as well. You could already tell what Steve was thinking when he looked at you. Probably something like It’s not normal to let another girl kiss your date or something like that. And okay, fine, you were planning on wiping the lipstick off of Eddie’s face before you went in for the kiss tonight, but you didn’t see any reason to be jealous. You knew exactly what was going to happen tonight. Hell, when you first came you ended the night with three different lipstick marksI Really, Steve and Eddie were getting stiffed tonight. Besides, Eddie hadn’t given you any reason to not trust him, and why start anything if you didn’t trust a guy?

“His name is Eddie.” you offered up and Steve gave you another look that you translated to Are you wing manning your own date?! You ignored it. 

“What a coincidence! My boyfriend’s name is Eddie!” Columbia said excitedly. “You two even have the same leather jacket! Do you also ride a motorcycle?”

To your delight, Eddie didn’t miss a beat. “Not yet, but I might one day. Just a van for now.”

“Ohh, I bet a lot of fun happens in the back of your van.” she winked, and you could see a slight blush spread across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “You should come join me and my Eddie for dinner next week, we’re having Meat Loaf!” 

You and Robin burst into a fit of giggles at the joke, as Eddie and Steve made eye contact for a moment and just shrugged at each other. Columbia gave Robin a wink and sauntered off to another group with their own Virgin to sacrifice.

With your Virgins freshly marked, snacks in hand,  and the doors to the theater opening, you parted ways with Steve and Robin as they made their way to the front row and you made your way to the back with Eddie. 

“The back row has my favorite call and response.” you explained as the two of you made your way to an open pair of seats. “And there are a lot of lines that are standard with every show, but if you can think of a good one, don’t even hesitate. Just call it out, okay? I’ll also warn you when people are about to start throwing things.”

“So, this is a bad movie where we are encouraged to yell and throw things?” Eddie asked, a wide grin on his face. “And where we sit depends on what we say?”

“Yes, it’s complete chaos.” you said. “I love it. Every show is always a little different because of the audience participation. Keeps it fresh, you know? Also, if you sit in the back you won’t get popcorn on your hair.” 

“Jeff dumped a bucket of popcorn in my hair once.” Eddie said. “It took me a week to get all the kernels out.”

“How the hell did that happen?!”

“I was sitting down, he was walking over with popcorn to bribe me for some roll, and then there was popcorn and butter everywhere.”

“I take it you didn’t give him the advantage he wanted?” you giggled. 

“No, he desiccated a snack in front of the Dungeon Master. He’s lucky I didn’t kill his character off when that happened.”

“The more I hear you talk about Hellfire, the more I wish I had been able to join in school.” you sighed. “You always sound like you have so much fun.”

“You... sometimes I do run some one-shots.” Eddie said, messing with one of his rings. “I haven’t done a game for beginners in a while but I could get the others to suck it up and run one for you.”

A warmth burned in your cheeks and you smiled at him. “Really? You’d run a game for me just so I could play?”

“Oh yeah, but just so you know, your movie isn’t the only thing that has its own hazing ritual.” Eddie smiled at you. “I tend to go extra hard on new players, just to make sure that they’re really up for the challenge of being in Hellfire.” 

You can go extra hard on me. You just barely managed to keep that as an inside thought with the way he was looking at you with those intense doe eyes. You definitely didn’t miss the subtle way his eyes darted to your lips for just a split second. 

Oh, you were so going to kiss him tonight. Not yet, not right now. If you went in for the kiss now, you just knew that you wouldn’t want to stop kissing him. And as much as you wouldn’t mind that, you also really wanted to share this experience with him. 

“So, is that a Hellfire thing, or a you thing?” you asked. “Did any former Dungeon Masters have hazing rituals, or are you just that sadistic?” 

“Chris didn’t need to haze anyone, if that’s what you’re asking.” Eddie said. “Hard to haze new players if he never let anyone new play.”

“Touche.” 

“He was actually in the theater program the last semester he was with Hellfire.” Eddie said suddenly, as if he had just remembered. “He got roped into doing backstage work for the Spring play and ran Hellfire into the ground. He’d always change the schedule of when we could meet up, and then get pissed with everyone when he couldn’t keep up.”

“I heard that doing tech for the shows is always a lot of work.” you said. “But it really sucks that he got pissed.”

“He ended up fully quitting Hellfire halfway through the semester, and that’s when I took over.” Eddie explained. “I had already been running the club anyway, but that just made it more official.” 

The lights in the theater flickered on and off, signaling the start of the show. 

“They’ll probably call you up to be part of the Virgin Sacrifice.” you said. “If you want to back out, no judgment. Your hair covers your shame, so you could probably duck out”

“I’ll do it.” Eddie said. “It’s only fair, if I run a one-shot for you and refuse to go easy on you, the least I can do is get on stage for your interest.” 

Had anyone ever shown this much interest in something you cared about? Robin had come with you before, and Steve had to be dragged here but this felt different somehow. Shit, the more you talked to him, the more you were tempted to ask him to leave the theater right now and show you the back of his van. 

“You know, I really always wanted to be part of the shadow cast.” you explained. “I’d love to be on stage as Columbia or Janet, hell I’d even love to be Riff Raff.”

“You want to be on stage in your underwear once a month?” Eddie raised an eyebrow. 

“It looks fun, but they never have auditions. It’s a pretty tight community, so you really have to know someone to get in. The most I’ve been able to do is sign up for clean up duty after the show. They give you tickets to the next show if you do that.”

The house lights went down, and you waited for the stage lights to come on and for the cast to come up and introduce the show and start the Virgin Sacrifice. The idea of seeing Steve and Eddie up there made you so giddy, and you couldn’t wait to tell Eddie more about the cast. 

But the stage lights never came on. Instead the movie just went and started and soon a bright red pair of lips were on screen, singing to everyone. 

They were skipping the Virgin Sacrifice? You had been going to this show for years and they never skipped the Virgin Sacrifice. And on Halloween? What was going on?

You were disappointed, but there was no use letting it ruin your evening. You shook it off and focused on singing along and teaching Eddie the important things to shout and when. How could you be too disappointed when Eddie was having so much fun? He was a natural, and witty and was quick to pick up on the jokes. 

It helped even more that he was still holding your hand. 

But something felt off during the whole show. There were a few members of the cast that you didn’t recognize, and they were giving a less than stellar performance. Choreography was wrong, the lip syncing was off, and Janet’s bra and slip were too... sexy. You also felt the man with the long sandy hair playing Rocky would have better been suited for Riff Raff.

Whoever coordinated this show, didn’t do a very good job. You felt bad that Steve and Eddie’s first time at the show wasn’t the best, especially after you had talked it up so much. 

If Eddie noticed the lackluster performance, he didn’t say anything. Maybe you were being too nitpicky, he was having a blast after all. Eddie was cracking jokes, and his voice carried through the theater so well even the front row fuck the front row! could hear him. 

As the credits rolled, and everyone made their way out to the lobby, you met back up with Steve and Robin. 

“That movie made even less sense than when you told us about it.” Steve said and you just shrugged. 

“I never said it made sense, I just said it was fun.” 

“I wouldn’t mind coming back.” Eddie said. “I wonder if they’d consider a live band to go with the stage actors.” 

You had to stop yourself from dropping down to your knees. One knee or two, you hadn’t decided yet. 

Robin yawned and you caught a glimpse of a lipstick mark on her jaw. You made a note to ask about that later. “If I’m out any later, my parents are gonna kill me. I still have school in the morning.” 

“Alright, let’s get you home.” Steve said. “See you two around.” His eyes darted down to where your hand and Eddie’s were still clasped together before pushing Robin out of the lobby and towards the parking lot. 

You and Eddie followed behind, but didn’t head straight for your cars. The two of you moved to stand below the yellow lighting of the yellow marquis. You watched as Eddie leaned against the brick wall and lit a cigarette, blowing smoke that disappeared under the clear sky. 

Under this lighting, you had a familiar feeling. There was something in the back of your mind, like a picture that was made of the same smoke coming from between his lips. Every time you reached out and almost had it, it disappeared in an instant. Something about the way he looked right now gave you a faint memory of being nervous, but not in a bad way. 

“That might be the first time I’ve ever felt normal.” Eddie said, looking at you. “I didn’t realize how many freaks there really were in Indiana.” 

“There are freaks and weirdos everywhere, if you know where to look.” you said. Eddie pocketed his lighter and took another drag. “Most people hide it though. I’m glad you don’t.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s nice to see someone really being themselves in this town. You’re a breath of fresh air.” you looked out at the street, watching as people got in their cars and drove out of the parking lot. You caught a glimpse of the Columbia, only catching her by her hair and make up as she rushed out of the theater towards the parking lot. “I... even if this doesn’t go anywhere, I like you.” you admitted. “I want to keep being friends.”

Eddie frowned and faced you. He had dropped your hand to light his cigarette, and you noticed his hand move towards yours before stopping and falling back to his side. 

“Is this your way of letting me down easy?” he asked, and your heart broke seeing the confusion in his big brown doe eyes. 

“No!” you said quickly. “No, not even a little. No. I want to see you again. A lot.” 

Eddie’s face relaxed and this time he did take your hand. He dropped his cigarette and snuffed out the butt with his sneaker. You took the hint and moved closer to him as well. 

“You like me?” he asked, and you liked the way his dimples showed when he smiled. 

That was the high sign. You didn’t even care that he still had a lipstick mark on his cheek, when all you could focus on were those warm brown eyes. You started to lean in, and you felt Eddie’s free hand move to your arm and up towards your shoulder. When he got close enough to count his unfairly long eyelashes, you closed your eyes-

“Eddie? Eddie Munson?”

Reality snapped back into place as you two heard a voice. You looked at Eddie’s face first, and there was an intense look in his eyes. His hand fell from your arm, while you tried to decipher what his expression meant. 

You turned around to see who he was looking at, ready to kill whoever had interrupted the moment. 

You hadn’t recognized him on stage as Rocky. The man's long sandy hair was now tied back and his overgrown fringe still fell into his gray eyes. He had filled out since high school, and he wasn’t wearing that stony scowl that had been his staple all through the years you’d seen him. 

“Chris Morrison?!”

ALSO I think I might have run out of blogs to tag? It won't let me tag anymore blogs for the tag list but you can also find this story on AO3 and sub there as well!

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a/n: This chapter turned out way longer than expected and I still didn't fit everything into it! I had a whole other scene planned out, but that just means I have the motivation to start on the next part!

Dividers by @strangergraphics

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