#he sounds so... unhinged to put it lightly

[sauronism]

? talking like this while holding ur ex's crown ?

[starsofang]

CALL OF THE SEA / PART SIX

pirate poly!141 x reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, not much for this chapter, but as always, be cautious! masterlist

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

Morning came, and when you woke, the Captain wasn’t by your side. Rather, the pair of shoes Soap had gifted you, left behind in the brig during the overwhelming visit from Price, laid neatly on his side of the bed. A note was placed on top, the telltale sign of Price’s handwriting written, one you recognized from the brief glimpse of his secretive map.

“Soap urged me to return these to you. Join us for breakfast when you wake.”

Tossing your legs over the side of the cot, you meticulously strapped the shoes to your feet one by one, tying them with careful hands. You couldn’t remember the last time you wore shoes, and the feeling was foreign.

Wiggling your toes for good measure, you found you had plenty of room. Taking a few steps around the room guaranteed they stayed. Soap had somehow observed your previously dirtied and battered feet and somehow sized them to his best knowledge.

They were perfect. You felt brand new.

New clothes and now new shoes. Bathed and scrubbed clean without a speck of dirt tainting your skin.

Perhaps you could give them a chance. At least, until you were able to get back on land again and say a silent farewell to all four of them. That was what you still wanted after all, right? Freedom, regardless of how kind they were trying to be.

Stepping out of Price’s quarters was that first taste of freedom you’d had in a while. Not a man to guard you like a dog, teeth bared if you tried to bite back. This time, it was peaceful.

The sea was calm with the waves lightly lapping against the sides of the boat. The scent of saltwater filled your nose and put all worries at ease. The sun was shining brightly above you, beating down with a lovely warmth that tickled your skin.

For a brief moment, it felt like you were home again. It was nothing like it, while mirroring it all at the same time. A bittersweet feeling it was, to feel a touch of serenity in a place so far from the place you knew.

You dared to think that this was somewhere you could rebuild a home with. In a way, this could be the freedom you’d been seeking. Far from entrapment on an island with no way out, with the feeling of sea legs on a boat that could take you to places you never knew existed.

You shut the thought down quickly. At the end of the day, the ones halting that dream were four rugged men who wouldn’t dare let you live out the fantasy long enough to cherish it. They were your captors. Not your friends.

It was fairly easy to figure out where their dining hall was. The boat was large, but the sounds of burly laughter and banter billowing through the breeze was unmistakable and it led you right to where you needed to be.

Your initial walk in wasn’t acknowledged. Not because they were ignoring you, but because they were far too occupied to realize. And by they, you really meant Soap and Gaz.

The two were bickering puppies. Mouths full of food, like ill-mannered children, spewing complete nonsense.

The first to notice you was Ghost. His gaze was chilling, eyes locked on you. While being uninterested and almost bored, there was also that glint of annoyance that came from your mere presence.

That alone was your subtle reminder that these men weren’t your friends. Your reality was not so lucky, and a few spouts of kindness given from the other three weren’t enough to warrant any comfort on your end. You were still in an unfair situation, one that you simply had to grow used to for the time being.

Ghost was a force, though. Just from his stare, you could feel the foreboding threat that lingered deep within. The mask he wore certainly didn’t help. In fact, it made him almost inhuman, like he was a vessel for something far more dangerous.

Eyes were the window to the soul, yet all you saw was an empty void.

Ghost’s shift in attitude seemed to transfer to the others. Next thing you knew, all eyes were on you, peering at you like a pack of wolves when an enemy entered their turf.

You felt severely underdressed. You weren’t much of a sight in your old rags, but now, clad in Price’s sheer clothes that ended near the knee with Soap’s new shoes clinging to your feet, you felt a sense of embarrassment.

The men were dressed appropriately, white shirts with billowy sleeves down to their wrists, heavy coats with a dizzying amount of buttons undone that fell to their knees, as well as classic breeches and thick boots. The colors were bland, yet the jewels they displayed were beyond comprehension.

You hadn’t taken much notice before of the extravagant gems.

Soap adorned that of sapphire, dangling from his neck and worn along his fingers. The blue glinted in the dim sunlight that peeked through the windows of the dining hall, shining brightly.

Gaz wore ruby, the deep red jewels clashing with his clothes and skin near perfectly. It accented the warm tone of his eyes that stared back at you, swirling with uncertainty yet a hint of curiosity.

Price preferred pearls, and it made complete sense. He was Captain, and pearls were the heart of the ocean. The waters were his home, and he held a piece of it wherever he went.

Ghost’s jewelry was the one who mirrored him completely. Black onyx, glistening on nearly every finger, paired with silver bands that held the precious jewels. The only difference was the single skull ring that stuck to his ring finger, staring back at you tauntingly.

You felt like a parasite in comparison. Jewels were something you could only dream of.

“Hungry, dove?” Gaz broke you out of your trance, raising his eyebrows at you. His tone was soft, holding no previous resentment. The man was a mystery, picking and choosing when to butt heads with you or express his displeasure. Yet not, it seemed that had all begun to melt.

“Quite,” you murmured in response, shifting uncomfortably from where you stood. You made no effort to sit next to them, deeming yourself unfit and unwelcome.

Gaz stood in an instant, leaving the table and fluttering to the kitchen. Your eyes followed, watching the swinging doors sway behind him as he disappeared.

“Sit,” Price gruffed, nodding his head to an empty seat across. You stared for a moment, unsure, before hesitantly taking the seat next to Soap.

Soap had said nothing yet, but his eyes never left you — or more specifically, your feet. The shoes, the one he’d specifically sought out for you that fit perfectly on your feet. They were a nice gift, despite the events that transpired after.

“They fit,” Soap stated, finally looking up at you when you sat. You gave him a brief nod, eyes peering down at the table. “Do ye like ‘em?”

You shifted your toes in the shoes, wiggling them around in the bit of space left. They felt comfortable and they’d protected your feet from the splintered wood of the ship when you made your way to the dining hall.

“I do,” you confessed quietly.

You felt strange. You felt almost shy, as if nervous to disappoint Soap.

His face broke out in a boyish smile, seemingly pleased with both himself and your answer. “I’m glad,” he sighed in relief, returning to his meal.

Price and Ghost remained quiet, though Ghost continued to stare. It was harder than before. Now, it felt more like a glare. You could practically feel the intensity of it toying with you.

You risked a glance at him, which only worsened the hit. In an instant, his eyes narrowed, a growing fire burning fiercely. It caused you to feel unsettled, and you wondered what you had done to make him agitated.

Sure, he wasn’t nice before. He was an angry brute from the very beginning. But it had never been this… personal.

The table shook when Soap knocked Ghost’s shin under the table. Ghost’s head whipped over to switch his glare to Soap, who only gave him a warning look in return. Price, seeming bored and rather used to the banter, simply sipped at the drink in his cup.

“Don’t mind him,” Soap dismissed sheepishly. “He’s just…”

“Jealous?” Gaz mused from behind you, and when you turned to look, he was holding a plate of hot food. He placed it in front of you before taking a seat on the other side of you.

Ghost let out what sounded like a scoff, muffled under his mask. He stood from the table, the force of him shaking it once more, before he set off to the upper deck without a spared glance.

Jealous? That was a strange way of describing what you witnessed. What Ghost held seemed far from jealousy, and resonated more with hatred.

“Jealous is a nice word,” Soap hummed, stabbing his food with his fork and popping it into his mouth.

“Why would he be jealous?” you asked hesitantly. “Are you…?”

“Aye, that’s complicated territory yer gettin’ into, dove.” Soap gave you a grin, full of food. You grimaced, resorting to your own food.

The three men fell into simple conversation while you remained the outsider. It was how it had been up until this point, something you were growing used to. After all, you were still a prisoner, even if you had a shed of freedom now, and you were still supposed to resent them.

“Awfully quiet today, dove,” Price said. His tone held no mockery. “You had quite a lot to say last night.”

Images of last night flashed through your mind, the ones where the two of you came to an agreement of getting along. No bad blood, as he said.

Quite a bit had happened last night. So quickly, too. One moment you were in the cell, awaiting a punishment for a failed attempt at fleeing their crew, then the next you were bathed and asleep in Price’s bed. Now, as the morning came, you were offered a meal rather than more unkindness.

You wondered if it was all a test. You had even snooped through the map laid out on Price’s desk, memorizing the poem scribbled on scratch paper. It seemed all meticulously planned, and you prayed it wouldn’t be your downfall.

“I have nothing to offer to the conversation, Captain,” you replied meekly. “I am quite bland.”

“I don’t think that’s quite right,” Price mused. “You were rather witty last night with your jest.”

“A jest?” Soap piped in, curious. “Ye got her to joke with ye, Captain?”

“Aye.” Price nodded. He crossed his arms, leaning back on his chair. “She’s a part of the crew now, after all. Isn’t that right, Soap?”

There was unspoken conversation between the two men. Gaz seemed just as lost as you, before something dawned on him. You remained clueless, separated from a secret agreement.

“Aye,” Soap agreed with a nod. He seemed prideful of something, but that you weren’t sure of.

Had they spoken of things without you? Perhaps it was the reason Price let you off so easily. Where you were expecting to be lashed out upon, angry words of your stupidity spewed your way, you had gotten a softer side of Price. An understanding one.

You sat dumbly, confusion evident on your face. Your mind swirled with every possibility of what they could mean, but nothing useful popped up.

You felt like a fool. You were a pawn in a game, and this you knew from the beginning. It had everything to do with your capture and the hidden reason as to why.

The one who heals the ill and poor

shall be the cure to all demise.

The answer was right in front of you, yet it felt impossible to grasp.

“You will stay with Soap and Gaz tonight,” Price said. You were zoning out quite a lot today. “I have business I must attend to in my quarters.”

You blinked at the Captain, turning your head to Gaz. You couldn’t fathom Soap having an issue with the arrangement, but Gaz was a unique case. You weren’t friendly, nor were you enemies.

Ever since throwing your food on him nearing the first nights, there was an awkwardness, but it certainly wasn’t bitter. It simply felt like two people who had gotten off on the wrong foot.

Gaz stared back at you before turning away. You weren’t sure how he felt about you staying in his quarters. He didn’t make it obvious.

You just hoped it wasn’t as awkward as it was right now.

Gaz and Soap came to collect you when the night began to fall. Price had let you bathe once more before sending you off, where the two men stood waiting for you outside.

“Hello, dove,” Soap greeted warmly. He seemed bashful that you were staying with him.

He was a strange one, for sure. He was also the most welcoming from the jump.

You didn’t let it fool you, though. You’d seen a side of him when you ran from him during your time on shore, and you knew he had a personality that made him the feared pirate he was, just as the rest of them.

Gaz offered you a nod in greeting, and you gave one back.

The two guided you across the deck and to the other side of the ship. It was quiet between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable or strange. What was strange was sharing a bed with two grown men.

“Come in,” Gaz said quietly, opening the door to their quarters and allowing you in first. It was gentlemen-like, which was unforeseeable coming from his background, but you took it with grace.

The quarters were much more cluttered than Price’s, and you safely assumed it was from Soap. Gaz didn’t seem the messy type, though you could be terribly wrong.

“Sit,” Soap ordered, grabbing you by the shoulders and plopping you down on the edge of the bed. You watched as he shuffled into a small closet, your ears picking up on ruffling fabric.

Gaz stood silently, deep in thought. You didn’t bother to ask.

“Here ye go, dove,” Soap offered, returning with new clothes.

Would this be a pattern?

“Will I be using all of your clothes?” you asked, taking the folded shirt and placing it in your lap.

“We will get you new ones soon,” Gaz replied. “Once you don’t wish to flee again.”

Soap snickered, finding it amusing while you mulled in your own humiliation. At least they were being humorous rather than crude.

“Understood,” you grumbled with a small huff, standing with the shirt in hand. The room stood still while the three of you stared, shifting between each other. “I’d like to change now.”

Soap’s mouth gaped, before he sputtered out an apology. Gaz scruffed him by the collar, dragging him out of the room, leaving you alone.

Your thoughts wandered as you changed into your fresh shirt. While you would’ve worn Price’s shirt some more, used to the old rags you collected grime in in the beginning of your capture, being offered new clothing for a second time was nice. It was kind.

You didn’t like to admit it, but despite weeping bloodshed and performing heinous acts upon the innocent lives of those on islands, such as your own people, they really were just… boys.

Boys with a sense of wonder, a sense of joy that was smothered by their titles.

They were still guiding through the world in their short lives, learning how to live as people. Just as any other. It was their first time living, too, even if their actions could be cruel at best.

When you stepped out of the room to let them know you were finished, you only found Gaz,

leaned up against the wall. He spared you a quick glance upon seeing you, offering you another nod like before.

“That certainly fits better than Captain’s,” he murmured, acknowledging the shirt that didn’t quite reach your knees anymore.

“Yes, it will do,” you replied quietly. Your hands fumbled in front of you, that familiar awkwardness filling the air.

With Soap, it was easy. With Price, it was witty. Ghost was an entirely other story.

But Gaz? Why did it have to feel so strange? Like a lingering cloud of tension?

“I am grateful to the Captain for allowing me a chance of redemption after I… fled,” you continued.

The sparkling of stars shone brightly above the two of you, and you made your focus on admiring them rather than on Gaz.

“I don’t know how he did it, but Soap convinced him of your worth in all of this.” Gaz joined you in staring up at the night sky, his fingers picking at the loose string of his shirt where it remained untied by the collar. “We fucked up your life, after all. That’s on us.”

“Soap?” you asked, baffled. “What does he have to do with it? The Captain came to me willingly.”

Gaz turned to look at you, his head cocked in confusion. You mirrored him, eyebrows pulled taut.

“He spoke highly of you after you attempted to flee,” he explained carefully. “Price was angry with you. Soap was your voice of reasoning. Even got me on your side, too. I had my reservations at first for obvious reasons.”

Ah, so he was still bitter about the porridge you’d thrown at him.

You allowed his words to digest, letting them sink into your bones and simmer. All this time, you thought they thought of you in disgust. You were an inconvenience.

Except… you weren’t. They had their formed opinions on you, but you were clearly worth more than they let on. It was why you were spared, why you weren’t rotting away to flesh and bone in their brig.

All along, you thought they simply hated you, that they were unkind, mean pirates.

But just as you thought moments ago — they were boys deep inside. Human. Navigating through life without a compass or map.

“With time, things will begin to connect,” Gaz continued, voice softer. “We are not as cruel as you may think. There are far bigger fish out there, and they are much, much worse.”

You prayed that you would never have to face it, for as long as you remained on this ship.

[syrma-sensei]

→ Hush Hush Behind The Shield.

gif credit.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Wife!reader.

Rating: Explicit.

Warnings: Vought's ungodly shenanigans, mentions of cheating, couple fighting, angst, misogyny, antiquated mentality, dub-con, power imbalance, fingering, forced orgasms, angry sex, cock riding...

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Being america's greatest hero's wife has its perks, but they don't come for free...

A/N: I'd like to thank my two pretty moots, @kaleldobrev who's been always there for me, listening to mental blurbs and chaotic spews of unhinged ideas and continuous mind dump ❤️ and @zepskies who bares my energy, which can be a bit much, each time I spam her dms with life cringing memes and awaful reacts ❤️

Kneeling down on one knee, your mitted hands hoisted the oven door close as you hummed a melody to yourself. Turning on your heels, you stood up and gave the dining table a once-over before allowing a proud grin slip on your lips.

“Perfect.”

Then your eyes glanced at your watch. It was half an hour past seven in the evening. Perfect. There'd be enough time to pamper yourself in a relaxing shower and spruce up with no rush before your husband was home.

You gave the dining room another glimpse to make sure everything was in place before you headed to the bathroom upstairs, walking through the living room where the T.V. displayed a Soldier Boy anti-drugs commercial.

A snore escaped your nose upon hearing the phrase: “Just say no.” Remembering how your husband threw a fit behind the scenes at how stupid it was, to the point of getting Stan Edgar himself on the line for him to find an alternative to it. Because no way he was saying that shit.

“God, I sounded like a fucking douchebag,” He'd told you in his dressing room, a smouldering reefer hanging between his lips — the irony, after they wrapped filming up.

You'd giggled, playfully plucking it from his lips to take a drag of your own, “No, baby, you did just fine.” You purred, and his mouth curled up into a small grin, “The public needs that y'know…” You tipped his chin up, your polished, long nails grazed lightly to his skin, “You're America's golden son, right? You're the man everyone should look up to.”

“Damn sure they should.” He'd chuckled, leaning down for a kiss which you gladly welcomed.

Being Soldier Boy's wife came with many many perks, but it also had its downsides, one of which was to have to deal with his short temper. But what could you say? You loved the man. Ardently so; you literally fought the world to have him all for yourself despite Vought's disapproval of your nuptial.

You savoured the victory when you married Ben in a small ceremony without Vought's blessing. It was like a slap to them when Ben imparted upon them the happy news, he delivered them a severe black eye, especially the vainglorious bastard Edgar. Who had once told you that you and Ben wouldn't work out, for it was simply "inconvenient" for a superhero like Soldier Boy to be involved in a serious relationship with a mere… human; it'd be a "disappointment" in the public eye, as he put it. Like he had a say in the matter.

But here you were, with a ring on your left hand to swagger about, and happily married to America's first hero, Edgar and Vought could say hello to your middle finger.

To nobody's surprise, you resented Vought, and held such abhorrence against them for not letting you and your husband live the life you wanted for yourselves. Despite your personal efforts, your proclaimed triumph was soon cut short because Vought declined to go public and endorse your marriage. Not that you and your husband gave two shits about their approval, but the rules were rules. And their lawyers affirmed that a public exposure of your marriage might damage Soldier Boy's rep, therefore, Vought's; given the fact that you were more than thirty years younger than him. They couldn't have it said that the hero of heroes was a creep even though they'd tried to conceal his age when he and Phoebe Cates starred in Love And War because it started to seem fishy. It was expected, though. But what you didn't see coming was Ben's response, or lack of response as to put it.

Despite being even more obdurate about this marriage than yourself. You felt terribly abjured by your husband. You'd thought he'd fight for you, for what you both had, and he'd want to let the world know about you. It'd broken your heart when it dawned upon you that Ben wouldn't risk his fame and glory for anyone, for you. Reluctantly, you bit the bullet, you had to, for him, because you loved him, and would do anything to keep this marriage intact. If you had to compromise for it, then so be it. You didn't care.

To your solace, Ben never changed after the frustrating incident; he was still the man you fell in love with. He might be smug, crass, and insufferable to everyone but you could still perceive the tender side he had though he'd never actually admit it, and you never pushed him too much. You were subtle enough to know when to stroke his ego and when to tease it. He was a man, after all. But it was obvious; he was a doting husband who cherished you in his own way. He showered you with gifts, and pampered you when he could. And he was eager to have babies with you. He never ceased to express how rapturous he would be if he were to have a son. A child with you.

Sure, you had your own qualms about that particular day, and there was more than a time you wanted to have a conversation with him about it. But you couldn't bring yourself to screw it up with stupid doubts. If Ben hadn't truly loved you, he wouldn't have treated you the way he did, he wouldn't have brought you to his workplace to have you at his side — and to poke Vought's eye every single time. He wouldn't have let you in and told you about his family and his dad, about his fucked-up childhood and how he became a hero.

No, your bond was bigger than any fleeting thoughts of incredulity.

You crooned softly as you wrapped a towel around your body after you finished your shower. Stepping out, you rubbed your hair with another towel and made your way down towards the kitchen to check on the pie.

Oh, Ben liked pies. You found it amusing how he'd swallow a whole pie alone and wouldn't affect him one bit; a supe sure required a lot of calories. Sometimes, you wished you had his great metabolism.

The moreish scent of baked dough and chocolate told you it was ready. You opened the oven door with a protected hand and placed the delicious pie by the window to let it cool down while you dressed up.

On your way back to your bedroom, you padded through the living room again. Your eyes glanced fleetingly at the screen only to stop abruptly in your tracks. A slight frown made it to your face as you saw a picture of Ben and Crimson Countess together. You never liked Countess. Something about her always disturbed you, and your guts were right.

Your eyes roamed the headline over and over, dilating in stupor.

Breaking News: Soldier Boy and Crimson Countess are officially together, Vought announced.

You shook your head in disbelief, hand grasping the remote control from the couch, shivering fingers shuffling through the channels.

Soldier Boy finally found the one!

Your heart paced up with each press.

A long awaited power couple is now here!

Vought just shocked the world by—

And here's Soldier Boy and Countess's statement…

It was hard to quell your simmering anger when you saw your husband smiling face with that bitch between his arms. Camera flashes and clicks swarmed around them with an entourage of reporters and interviewers.

“Hey, Soldier Boy, now you're together, what can you tell us about the first time you saw Countess? Was it love at first?” A reporter asked.

Ben scratched his beard with his gloved hand, drawling “First time I met Tess was when Vought concocted a hero collab years ago, remember that honey?”

You did remember that event very clearly. You were still Ben's secret girlfriend at the time, and it was exclusive to superheroes, yet Ben brought you there as his date.

Ben grinned as if dreamily reminiscing about the memory as he continued, “And lemme tell ya one thing, this one is a firecracker.”

Countess giggled playfully, gazing up at your husband in the most flirtatious way, it made you gag with disgust.

You scoffed bitterly at the blatant lies spurting right in your face. That specific night, Ben had childishly grumbled and complained about how much he wanted to be out of there. And to spice things up, he playfully dragged you from the pristine hall the event took place in, and fucked you raw against one of the wall of some other hall, keeping your panties as a souvenir for the rest of the soirée. He kept teasing you through the entire night, riling and messing you up. At the time, it was thrilling and venturous. Now, however, it knotted at the tip of your stomach. His focus that day was solely on you. He wasn't even aware of the bitch's presence for all you care.

“And when I first saw her… knew she was the one….”

You couldn't comprehend what Ben said after that point as a deafening buzz bolted through your ears. Tears rolled down your cheeks, and soon they were streaming from your eyes as you stood numb on your spot. Your tears splattered on the ground along with your heart.

“Honey, I'm home.” Ben announced once he stepped in the house. He sighed, putting his shield down and making his way to the kitchen where you usually would be, making his dinner. He didn't take his boots off though he knew you'd throw a fit about it, but let's just say that teasing and screwing with you was his favourite hobby. His anticipating grin soon dropped and a small scowl knitted his brows when an odd mixture of scents wafted into his nose. His eyes dilated at the unusual messy scene in the kitchen; the table was flipped over, glass splints scattered all over the floor, freshly-cooked food covering the carpet beneath the dining table, and a chocolate pie was squashed into the wall.

With a pacing heart, Ben cried your name, and hurriedly climbed up the stairs. His feet darted to the bedroom when he heard you sniffling and weeping.

An audible sigh of relief flouted out of chest when he saw you. Your hair was wet and a damp towel wrapped around your body, but his eyebrow quirked up when he noticed you packing a bag on the bed. The fuck?

“(Y/N), the fuck is going here?” You scared the shit outta me. He wanted to say, after the shitty day he had, he just wanted to have you in his arms and play with your hair.

You startled for a moment when you heard his southern accent. You used to be fond of it, but today you were certainly not.

“I'm leaving.” Your answer came out curt, your hands tugging your bag zippers close.

You heard his footsteps getting closer until you felt his hand on your bare shoulder, “What happened to you, sweetheart?”

You pulled yourself away from his hold, hissing, “Don't you fucking touch me!”

He didn't seem to heed your warning as he reached a hand to your face. Gritting your teeth, you spun around with your hand ready to deliver a slap to his cheek. However, and no matter how fast and pissed you were, he was always quicker and alerter. Fucking supe.

“You don't get to touch me ever again you asshole!” You shrieked, yanking your wrist from his grasp, your wet hair stuck to your face, chest heaving with each breath. 

“The fuck is wrong with you, woman?!” He growled with a deep scowl, “Just left you all happy and giggling in the morning, is it here? Your time of the month again?”

“Fuck you!” You spat, clenched hands rising up to his chest, “You're my fucking problem,” You jabbed a fist to chest, though he didn't move an inch, but damn didn't it feel good! You blew another punch to his stupidly firm chest again and again.

“Fucking Christ!” He grumbled, and with one strong arm, Ben wrangled your back against his chest and caged you in his steel hold, one hand securing both of your wrists above your head, “Calm the fuck down!”

Legs kicking and hands tugging, you tried to wriggle out of his arms but to no avail, you felt so helpless against his raw strength. Your anger and frustration poured out of your mouth in a wailing, broken voice, “Leave. Me. Alone!” You bellowed, “Go to your fucking Crimson Bitch!” Two rivulets of tears drizzled from your eyes again, “Go to your fucking Tess and let her fire-crack your nuts, you fucking pussy!”

“Christ on a cross, do you hear yourself talk, woman?!”

His eyes widened before his eyebrows scrunched deeply. He took you off guard when he brought you down to the floor as he crouched on one knee. Your towel unwrapped at the sudden movement and you were naked beneath his eyes. His hands were still holding you in place.

Two green eyes regarded you softly, “You really took that marketing shit for real?” He thumbed your lower lip, and his free hand trailed down your naked form. “Fucking hell, thought you were way smarter than that, sweetheart.” You shivered from both the cold and his touch, his sinful reaching your mound, “You really think I'd fucking leave you for her?”

You couldn't suppress the moan when he stroked your throbbing clit. A shot of arousal seeped out of your opening much to Ben's satisfaction. Anger made the colour of your face rise, “Fuck you! Fuck your bitch! Fuck Vought!” You spat, your eyes burning holes into his as he proceeded toying with your flesh until your voice broke, “Y-You want me to buy your shit — Ah!” Two of his thick and expert digits entered your slit, massaging your love spots thoroughly. “After you didn't stand up for our marriage?!” You groaned, hips rolling to the rhythm of his fingers.

“Is that so?” His brow quirked up amusedly. Was this funny to this bastard? Was your marriage some kind of a joke to him?

You gasped as he deliberately hit your weak spot; sweet, delightful coils fluttered at the tip of your stomach, “I was under the fucking impression that you had your pretty, little head wrapped around how this fucking business worked!” He snarled.

“Fuck you! I hate you!” Your body snapped as you came abundantly on his fingers which made him grin slyly down at you.

You felt his grip on your wrists loosen, so you took your window and jerked yourself free. He was shocked when you pushed him down on the floor and straddled his hips, your dripping cunt was drenching his pants with your cum. He raised a playful brow at you but soon was replaced by a shocked frown when you slapped his irritatingly handsome face.

“Fucking hell, you fucking little ballbuster—”

You shushed him with a finger on his lips, “You're fucking mine, Benjamin, you hear me! You're fucking mine!” You hissed, having no idea where your vigour came from as you tore his shirt off of his chest. His length poked you when you gazed with searing fire in your eyes at his, “You. Belong. To. Me.” You furiously tucked his pants and boxers down, his cock springing out with life.

A wanton moan came off your lips as you sunk yourself down his cock, whereas he grumbled in pleasure as you hugged him tightly with your wet and warm insides.

You snapped your hips harshly and he growled, “Fuck, doll—!”

Another snap, your voice was laboured, “I own you. You're married not to that whore, not to Vought, but to me!”

Your skin slammed against his meat vehemently as you gritted your teeth when another orgasm was spiralling in your body. You paced up your movement, a hand banging demandingly on his chest, “Say it! You're fucking mine!”

“Holy shit!” You watched his eyes roll backwards as he rasped, “Yours, babe,”

“Holy fuck, Ben! Ben, I'm coming again!”

That was his cue to take control again. He sat up, cradling you in his warm hold, “Cum to me, babe, fucking soak my cock.” You wabled his name, clinging to his shoulders as your climax stormed out of your body like a mad hurricane. You whimpered pathetically when his two large hands on your hips kept making you ride him through your high.

“Fucking stupid girl,” He growled, shooting his seed up your insides.

With laboured breaths, you glared at each other. You felt his cock softening inside of you, “Fucking idiot man.” You scoffed.

He chuckled with a boyish grin on his sweaty face, “That was fucking hot, think I like this wild side of you, darlin'”

You snickered, “You bet, wait until you see what I'm gonna do with that little fuck, Edgar.”

Ben rumbled a deep chortle, much to your annoyance, would this man ever take you seriously? “I swear to fucking Christ, Ben, if they—you don't break off that stupid shit with Countess and go public about us, I'll fucking burn that fucking tower to the fucking ground, because I'm fucking done with this—mhmmm!”

He cut you off with a scorching kiss and its heat made you thaw against his lips. His cock twitched inside of you.

“Jealousy looks pretty on you though, sweetheart” He teased, his lips brushing to yours.

God, damn this man and his endless ego! “Ben!” You nudged him playfully.

“Can't wait to see you wanting to snatch some ladies' heads off when we go to balls together.”

You smiled at him, biting on your bottom lip. The idea of finally being acknowledged as Ben's wife warmed your heart, and his willingness to do so made your heart race. However, disturbing thoughts loomed in your head again, “Think Vought will let us be?” You asked with hesitation. Fuck, that shit really got too deep into you.

He rolled his eyes, “Try not to work your pretty head hard 'bout this, doll,” He tucked a tress of your hair behind your ear, “The man who fucking beat the Nazis can handle some sweaty fucknuts at Vought.” There was something warmly reassuring about his smugness.

“See? All that shit wouldn't happen if you didn't stay silent while they fucking tried to play their fucking game!”

Ben chuckled, “Well, the fucking was totally worth it.”

You groaned in frustration, “Ben… I thought you abandoned me.”

Your husband furrowed his brows at you, “You women hardly think sometimes, don't you?” You scowled at his remark but he sighed, cradling your cheeks in his warm hands, “I fucking fought to make you my wife. I fucking put my whole career and name at risk for you.” You blinked at him, “The day before we tied our knot, I fucking told the boardroom that I was marrying you, that I'd fucking walk off if they tried anything funny… they didn't, till fucking today.” He sighed, “They fucking announced that bullshit before I was even told.”

“Assholes,” You whispered.

“After that pathetic act, I fucking stormed to Edgar like I stormed Normandy. Let's say that he and I did a little bit of chatting,” He gave you a conceited smirk, giving you no detail of how he got scared shitless when he saw the mess in the kitchen. He thought Vought dared to fucking do something to you. And when he heard you cry he feared the worst. But of course, he wouldn't tell you anything about that. Because he was the fucking man of this house; if his feelings of fear appeared, the sense of security he provided to this house, to you, would crumble. And he wouldn't have that. Ever.

You, on the other hand, had a weird combination of pride and happiness sprouted within your chest.

“I'm so sorry, Ben…” You said, cupping his face in your hands, “I-I don't know what came over me when I saw you with her,” You couldn't even say her name.

“Couldn't have your man stolen away, could you?” He teased you.

“Never.” You answered, “And I'm sorry for what happened, husband.”

“I mean you did make it up for me, wife,” He flashed you a cheeky grin, “Though, I don't feel particularly in a forgiving mood… yet.”

Head tilting to the side, your raised an eyebrow, rolling your hips teasingly on his cock, “Don't push your luck…”

“Try me.”

🦅 Soldier Boy Masterlist.

taglist: @zepskies, @deansbbyx, @kaleldobrev, @k-slla, @deanbrainrotwritings, @deans-spinster-witch, @venus-haze, @thebiggerbear...

[thebluester2020]

[WuWa] Kinktober Day 7: "Hatefucking"

Summary: You hate everything about Scar! The fact he's clearly evil aside...you hate his stupid charming voice, his stupid voice, the fact he's taller than you...long lithe fingers you'd like to see fingering your—okay, you may have a bit of a crush on him.

Warning(s): Dub-Con, Fingering, Porn With Plot, Outside Sex (Reader + Scar fuck in an abandoned town), Name-calling, Rough Sex.

Side Note(s): Funny how this is coming out on the day that I have a test. I put all my frustration into this one 💀

(Sorry for the lateness, exam day meant that this was gonna come out later rather than sooner 😔)

You've been in a strange 'situationship' lately.

To be frank, you already felt like you were a traitor to everyone who had put their faith in you, being in such a tumultuous relationship with a member of Fractisidus. But it wasn't your fault, you felt! It was originally supposed to be one a one-time only, a way of getting rid of the obvious sexual tension that was threatening to boil over the pot.

And it all started so simply at first!

One day, you had just finished slaying a horde of Tacet Discords as a small commission, a simple job just to put some extra money in your pocket. And then...he came.

. . .

"Ah! Y/N, fancy seeing you out here." A familiar voice called out to you. A charming sound yet with a subtle undertone of slyness, like a fox closing in on its prey, tricking and luring its target into trusting it.

You wouldn't be so easily fooled.

"Scar," You greeted with an annoyed exhale. "Going to try to convince me to join your organization again? The answer is still no." You said with venom in your voice. After only battling him a few months ago, you were shocked at the audacity he had to walk up to you so brazenly! As if you weren't a second away from taking out your weapon and attempting to cut his head from his shoulders. Despite this, however, Scar continued to come up to you with a certain...look in his eyes.

What was his goal this time?

"Don't dismiss me so coldly Y/N..." He said, your eyes following him like a hawk until he eventually stood right in front of you with no regard for your personal space.

You immediately surveyed the area around you, did he have friends with him this time? In such an open field, he had the advantage if he was aiming to kill you this time...

"I simply wanted to hang out with you!"

"Hang out?" You scoffed. "You nearly tried to kill me last time we met you damn freak." You spat, your hand coming to rest on the hilt of your sword.

His eyes quickly caught it before he smirked. "Oh...don't tell me you hold onto grudges, last time I was just...teasing you! My organization really wants you in our ranks, there's still time to join."

"No chance."

"Ah...you'll join us one day Y/N." He sighed before turning on his heels. "This time though—" He turned around, casually placing his hands in his pockets before his attention then turned to the Tacet Discord you had just recently killed. "—I offer you something more...personal. A moment for us to get to know each other outside of battle."

Your brow rose at the offer. "What's your angle?"

"No angle, to show you that our organization isn't what you may think it is. We should take some time together."

Before you opened your mouth to immediately decline, you took a moment to truly think about it. You were still searching for the origins of your past, answers as to who you truly were, and still...you kept coming up with empty answer after empty answer. In the back of your head, you suspected that you would probably have to resort to other methods in order to get the results that you wanted but...so soon? And with a guy like Scar? He was unhinged, crazy was putting it way too lightly and he nearly killed you! You escaped with just the skin on your teeth and a whole lot of scars and bruises on your body.

But...Fractsidus seemed to have a lot of information on you.

More than other people seemed to.

Maybe...maybe this was the right decision.

"Fine," You eventually said.

Scar couldn't help the immediate grin that crept onto his features as he turned back to face you, his hands still in his pockets. "But if you pull anything, I'll kill you. I swear it."

He chuckled. "We'll see about that."

. . .

And the rest was history.

The spot the two of you would meet up at would be the same every single time. The abandoned town where you and Scar first met and he told you the story of the black lamb and the shepherd. Admittedly, when you first went, you constantly thought that those meet-ups would be your last. When you'd appear around a corner, he'd always respond with a grin that you failed to decipher whether or not it was genuine or if it was hiding a darker intention.

You would spend hours talking, nothing of Fractisidus or your search for your origins and who you truly were! Simply life, your friends and the likes. It was...comfortable, something that you knew you shouldn't have felt around the man but you just couldn't help it! Spending so much time searching, moving around and having exciting things happen to you day after day, it became tiring.

Suddenly you found yourself yearning for the time when Scar would suddenly appear to you from an alleyway or when you were by yourself, offering out of the blue if you would like to hang out with him once more.

And all too eagerly? You'd agree.

And with such eagerness...it wasn't your fault that you hadn't noticed that he was leading you into a trap of desire! All until it was far too late—

"Y-You disgusting scumbag..." You hissed to Scar as you were currently pressed up against one of the buildings in the abandoned town. Your chest was heaving as you struggled to keep a sense of your surroundings, the feeling of the white-haired man's slender fingers fiercely plunging themselves into your cunt making your knees buckle underneath you and your head become foggier and foggier with pleasure.

Scar moaned at your insult, parting his head from the crook of your neck to look you in the eyes with a smirk. "Aw..." He cooed. "Still calling me names, Y/N? How long will it take before you start saying nicer things to me~?" A sharp gasp escaped your lips when Scar suddenly pressed his lips against your own, his tongue prodding at your lips for entrance. When he gently nibbled down on your bottom lip, you unintentionally moaned, allowing him enough room to slide hi tongue into your mouth before he felt around.

"Sweet..." He moaned against your lips, his fingers speeding up in the process before you felt him start to rub himself against your front.

You shuddered at the idea of such a large thing being inside of you...wait. "G-Gross!" You hissed as you suddenly pushed his shoulders, too weak to actually get him off of you but strong enough to make him pause in his actions and take his lips off of yours. He crudely licked his lips with a hungry smirk. "Oh don't fight me like I'm some villain Y/N...you want this as much as I do. Don't think I've missed the way you've looked at me over the last couple of weeks."

A fierce blush rose to your cheeks. "You're so delusional..."

He laughed. "Am I?"

As if to remind you, he curled his fingers up inside of you, his knuckles rubbing along a spot inside your inner walls that made your toes curl and your eyes threaten to roll back inside of your head. Scar lewdly moaned at the sound of your squelching pussy, his eyes steadily trailing down from your gaze and to your soaked pussy, your slick starting to roll down your thighs.

Scar laughed mockingly. "Dirty...it's like you're nearly wetting yourself under this cute skirt of yours~"

"F-Fuck you..."

"Oh I plan to," He placed another kiss on your lips. "And I'm soooo certain that you'll enjoy it Y/N~"

. . .

"S-Scar—!" You practically screamed out as Scar fucked you while you were pressed against a building. His fingers dug into your waist as he pulled your ass back to his pelvis, creating a lewd symphony of skin slapping against skin as your lover's groans threatened to be heard all the way back to Jinzhou. Your red-eyed lover's eyes were entranced by your ass squishing repeatedly against him as he fucked you like a common whore.

He had been wanting you like this against him since the day he spotted you.

And his need for you only increased when you had beat him in your fight against him. The sight of determination in your eyes—the sheer hatred you had for him, it had him rock-hard in his pants.

The nights he fisted his dick at the thought of you with that same look in your eyes quickly grew unbearable, it was the reason why he approached you outside of the orders of his organization in the first place! And although he wanted you to look at him with that same vitriol in your eyes, as if you wanted to kill him...the reward of making you a cock-drunk slut on his cock?

He figured he could get used to this as well.

"Fuck...! W-Why is your dick so big—!?" You gasped as your hand flew to wrap around his wrist, both trying to pull him closer to your body while simultaneously trying to push him away. "Fucking... v-villain..." You continued, your words constantly interrupted by your moans much to Scar's amusement.

"Why's your cute pussy so tight?" He licked his lips as he suddenly pulled his dick out of your cunt until he was nearly all the way out.

He reveled in the way your moans suddenly died down, being replaced by gasps and whines of confusion before your head turned in search of him. "Why...why did you stop—" Your words were once again interrupted, replaced by a shrill keen as Scar suddenly plunged himself back into your needy cunt once more. A series of cocky laughter tumbled out from his lips as he started to curl over your body, feeling his orgasm begin to creep up on him.

"So fucking cute Y/N..." He whispered in your ear, lightly nipping on the shell of your ear, causing you to suck your lower lip into your mouth as your pussy clenched around Scar's dick. "Maybe this'll get you to join Fractsidus?" He continued to whisper lowly in your ear, his rough and harsh pace beginning slower and harder as he rolled into your cunt.

You moaned at the slower pace, his cock pressing threatening to press against your cervix as you turned your head to look back at him through blurry eyes. "I-In your dreams..." You tried to retain some sense of dignity, trying not to give in to your enemy any more than you already have.

"My dreams seem to be coming true then~" He moaned. "After all, I have you right where I want you, don't I?" Before you could respond, Scar's hand moved to roughly rub your clit, the sudden increase in pleasure practically tearing your orgasm out from your body as you wailed out in bliss. And those wails and moans of your enjoyment were the final push Scar needed before he pressed himself against you with a whispered 'Fuck'. The warmth that flooded your insides making you sigh in bliss as you hung onto cloud nine for a few seconds more before you started to come down slowly.

Your enemy was more dangerous than you previously thought.

How was his dick so addicting?!

And even more...why were you already thinking of when to come back to him for more?

[electric-cross]

I Saw Your Blog

Pairing: Chris Motionless x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: Smut, dirty talk

Chris and the reader are close friends. Chris sees the readers blog and feels bold enough to make a move. Romance and smut ensue.

It was almost midnight. You had been texting your friend, Chris, for hours. This went on nearly every day. No matter what the two of you were doing, you always found time to text. Sometimes, you’d even talk on the phone or facetime with one another. He’d become one of your closest friends, and if you were being completely honest with yourself, you’d developed a pretty serious crush on him, as well.

Chris was almost home from a two month tour. You hadn’t seen him in person since before it began, and you were already making plans to hang out once he was home.

“So, I’ll be home on Friday, and we should be able to hang out this weekend,” the text read.

“Okay, awesome. Do you want me to come to your house, or do you wanna come to mine?”

A short silence, then your phone buzzed, once again, “Can we hang out at my place? I’ve just been away for so long, I always look forward to spending time at home.”

“Of course we can. What time do you want me to come over?” you responded.

“Does seven work? We can order in some dinner, if you want.”

“Sounds good to me. What are you in the mood for?”

“Not sure. We can decide on Friday. So what are you up to? Still scrolling through Tumblr? Lol.”

You laughed, “Yeah, you know me. Are you ever gonna use yours again?”

“Not sure. I haven’t used it in like, a decade or something, but you never know. I do like stealthily checking your blog, though. You always have interesting things to say in your tags, lol.”

“Lol, yeah, I can get carried away sometimes, but isn’t that what Tumblr is for?” you answered.

“Haha, yeah, I guess it is. That may be why I left it behind. Some people are a little unhinged.”

You typed, “Yeah, that’s very true, but I’m one of those people, so I have no room to judge, lol.”

“I don’t know if you’re as wild as some people on there, but I’ve seen you allude to some pretty intense things before,” Chris replied.

“What intense things?” you asked.

“Well, sometimes you seem to be yearning in the tags of romantic and sexual posts, so I definitely think I’ve learned some things about you, lol.”

You tensed a bit. You knew that Chris could see those posts, but you were unsure if he knew that it was always him that you were talking about. A part of you wished that he did, so maybe he would make a move on you, but at the same time, you were afraid he’d figure it out and be disgusted by it. You weren’t sure how Chris felt about you, and you were too shy and nervous to ask.

“Oh yeah, well, we all crave it, right? I guess I’m no different than anyone else.” you tried to respond casually.

“That’s very true. If I had a private Tumblr, I’d probably post the same kinds of things that you do,” he texted back.

Feeling a bit brave, you decided to probe further, “Oh? Got your eye on someone that you wanna pine for in the tags? Lol.”

“Lol, definitely.”

Your heart sank. For some reason, your first instinct was to assume that he was talking about someone else and now you were getting confirmation of that. Your crush would go nowhere. You’d been relegated to friend and friend only. However, after that brief moment of sadness, a voice in your head said, “Well, what if it’s me? Could it be? I want to find out, but what if I make a move and then he actually was talking about someone else? Shit. Gotta tread lightly.”

“Oh, wow. I had no idea. Who is she?” you replied cavalierly.

“Well, I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you. ;)”

“Haha, well, I think I can fend for myself, so spill! Unless you just don’t want to. It’s really none of my business, but I am curious.”

Suddenly your phone lit up. Chris was calling you. You felt your heart skip a beat, once again. You pushed the buttons and put the phone up to your ear.

“Hey,” you greeted him, “Did you get tired of texting or something?”

He laughed, “No, it’s just that I thought that this conversation would go better if we were actually talking. Plus, I’m finally alone now, so I don’t have any distractions or eavesdroppers.”

“Oh, okay. That makes sense. So what’s up?”

“Well, it’s about the conversation we were just having,” he answered.

“I kinda figured,” you laughed, “What did you want to tell me?”

For a moment, there was silence on the other end, “Chris?”

“Yeah, I’m still here. I’m just trying to think of how to put this.”

“Well, I’m sure any way you put it will be fine, so you may as well just be straight forward.”

“Okay…” he began, sounding nervous, “Well, I do like somebody. It’s just that, I don’t know how this girl feels about me, especially when I know for a fact that she’s already interested in someone.”

You paused, “Oh, well, um, I guess you should just tell her. Maybe she’d be interested. If not, I guess the worst she can say is no, right?”

“Yeah, but I’m really good friends with this girl, and I’d hate to make things weird between us. I guess I’m just debating whether or not it’s worth it to go for it,” he said.

You scoured your brain trying to think of all the single women that you knew Chris was close with. You thought of a couple that you weren’t sure about, but your mind still wasn’t willing to entertain the idea that you could be the girl that he was talking about.

You gathered some courage and spoke into the phone, “Chris, you should just tell her. You never know if it’ll make things weird, or if you can still be friends, and plus, you could end up with a girlfriend. You never know.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re right. It’s just hard, you know?”

“Trust me, I know. That’s why I pine on Tumblr, instead of going on dates,” you laughed.

He laughed in return, “So you get where I’m coming from.”

“Totally. So who is it? Maybe I can help.”

There was another moment of silence over the phone before he finally answered, “Fuck it. Might as well just go for it… It’s you.”

You felt your heart freeze, once again, rendering you speechless. After a few moments of silence, you heard Chris say your name, wondering if you were still on the line.

“Yeah?” you replied sheepishly.

“Did you hear what I said?” he asked.

“Yeah… I did. I’m just making sure that I heard you correctly.”

“So what do you think?” he asked, “Is it gonna make things weird between us, or is there any possible chance that you might feel the same way?”

You paused again, “Chris, who do you think I was talking about in all those tags on my blog?”

“Was it me?” he asked.

You smiled, “Yes, it was you.”

“Seriously?” you could hear the joy in his voice, “You’re into me?”

You laughed, “Yes, I am. I have been for awhile now. I was just too chicken to say anything.”

He sighed, “I know what you mean. I’ve been wanting to tell you how I felt for awhile, too. I just had myself convinced that you were talking about someone else and that I’d only be wasting my time and making a fool of myself if I were to tell you.”

“I get that. I never had any inclination that you liked me, so I kept my mouth shut for pretty much the same reasons.”

There was another pause before Chris spoke, “So, what does this mean? Do you wanna go out sometime?”

“Yeah, I do. What about Friday? Can that be our first official date?”

“Yeah, I’d love that. Do you wanna go out somewhere, or did you still want to just hang out at my house?”

“We can hang out at your house. It’s cozier. Maybe if it goes well, we can have a second date at a restaurant or something.”

“Okay, good. I can’t wait to see you.”

You smiled again, “I can’t wait to see you, either. Just two days, though. I think we can make it until then.”

He laughed, “Yeah, we can make it, but don’t think I won’t still be texting you non stop until then.”

You laughed with him, “Oh, I expected that. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Okay, good, and I’ll be checking your blog too to see what else you have to say about me until then.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll see plenty. I’ll try to keep it PG though.”

“I’d rather you didn’t. I like the more salacious things you post.”

“Oh, really? Well, then I guess I’ll have to post as many things about you as I can.”

“I’d love that. I’ll check in on it tomorrow, but for now, I really need to get some sleep. The bus heads out really early tomorrow so I gotta try to get a few hours in, but I hope you post some things about me tonight that I can read tomorrow.”

“Absolutely,” you began, “Get some sleep, and I’ll make sure you have plenty of things to read tomorrow. I’ll talk to you soon, Chris. Good night.”

“Alright, talk to you tomorrow. Good night,” he responded before you both hung up.

You sat in your bed, grinning from ear to ear. You couldn’t believe it. This was actually happening. You knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep for hours, so you decided to kill time the way you knew Chris would appreciate. You opened the Tumblr app, and began blogging away, posting things in the tags that you knew only Chris would know was for him.

After an hour or so of carefully curating posts for your new romantic partner, you decided to flip off the lights and try to get some sleep. As you had predicted, it was proving to be most difficult. Your mind wouldn’t stop racing. It was on a constant loop of replaying the conversation in your head, along with daydreaming about what was to come on Friday. Eventually, slumber took over, and you managed to get a few hours of rest.

The next morning, you awoke to find a missed text from Chris, “Hey, so I’m on the bus, and I’ve been killing the last couple of hours just scrolling through your blog and picking up on all the things that were about me. I gotta say, I’m extremely flattered, and it makes me desperate to see you. Especially after last night. ;) I hope you slept well, and I’ll talk to you soon.”

You grinned at your phone, wasting no time in replying, “I just woke up. I gotta get ready for work, but I just wanted to let you know that I got your text and I’m glad you’ve been having fun with my blog, lol. I’ll talk to you later today, alright? I hope you have a good day. :)”

“Okay, baby, text me when you get off work. I hope you have a good day too. <3”

Your heart fluttered. He called you baby. You couldn’t believe that this was all happening so fast. Not that you were complaining, however. Your body went into auto pilot as you prepared yourself for the day. You knew your mind would be preoccupied all day. You weren’t sure exactly how much work was going to be accomplished, but you weren’t too concerned. 

After what felt like an eternity, the work day was finally over. You made your way home, got yourself a drink, and made yourself comfortable on the couch, turning the TV on for background noise as you excitedly picked up your phone and texted Chris.

“Hey, work is finally over. Can you talk now?”

You waited a few minutes before getting a reply, “Hey. Sorry, kind of busy getting ready for the show tonight. Can I call you when we’re done?”

“Of course. I’ll be around.”

“Okay, great. Sorry sweetheart, it’s gonna be a few hours, but I can’t wait to talk to you again.”

  You smiled, “Take your time. I’ll be just as excited to talk to you later.”

You sat your phone down and watched the news, scrolling through Tumblr, adding a few more posts for Chris’ benefit. Eventually, you made, ate, and cleaned up dinner. Then, spent the rest of the evening watching interviews of Chris on youtube. You loved the way he spoke. He was such an eloquent and articulate speaker. You could watch videos of him all night, which you had on more than one occasion.

Finally, your phone lit up. Chris was calling you.

“Hey,” you greeted him, “How was the show?”

“It was awesome. I think we did pretty well for our last show of this run. What are you up to?”

“Oh, just hanging out at home, watching youtube, nothing too exciting.”

“Oh, yeah? I wish I was there with you, but hey, at least I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Your heart started racing, “I know. I’m so excited to see you. It feels like it’s been forever.”

“It really does. Especially after the conversation we had last night. It feels like time is moving at a snail’s pace.”

You chuckled, “Tell me about it. Less than twenty four hours until I see you, and it still feels like it’s taking a lifetime.”

Chris laughed with you, “I know, but at least I get to talk to you now.”

“Well, I can’t talk too long, I do have work in the morning, you know.”

“That’s true. I won’t keep you too long. I just really wanted to talk to you.”

“I really wanted to talk to you, too. Especially after you called me baby in that text you sent me this morning.”

He laughed again, “Oh, yeah. Is that okay? Or is it too soon for that?”

“I don’t mind at all. It made me pretty happy. I know we haven’t even had our first date yet, but I have a feeling this is heading to the point that you’d be calling me baby anyway.”

“Yeah? You think so?” he asked.

“Yeah, I do. Do I get to start calling you baby now, too?”

“Sweetheart, you can call me whatever you want.”

You grinned, “Good to know. Now tell me about the show.”

You spent the next hour or so asking Chris about the concert and making plans for what to eat and what to do the following night. Eventually, you couldn’t hide your yawns any longer.

“Getting sleepy, baby?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m surprised you’re not too. You’ve been up longer than I have and you put on a show. Aren’t you exhausted?”

“Eh, I’m a little tired, but nothing too bad. I think I’m still running on adrenaline from the show and from talking to you. I’ll probably crash soon, though.”

“Well, make it sooner rather than later, I want you well rested for tomorrow.”

“Oh, yeah? Am I gonna need a lot of energy?” you could hear the playfulness in his tone.

You laughed, once again, “Well, I don’t know about that, but you never know. Either way, I don’t want you half asleep on our date.”

“You make a good point. Maybe we should both get some sleep then.”

“Sounds good. I’ll talk to you in the morning, okay?”

“Okay. Night, baby,” he said sweetly.

“Good night, baby,” you responded in a similar tone.

You hung up the phone, turned off the TV and headed for bed.

The next morning, you awoke and immediately picked up your phone. You didn’t have any missed texts. Chris must have still been asleep. So, you thought you’d beat him to the punch this time.

“Good morning, sweetheart. I hope you slept well. Have a safe trip home, and I’ll see you tonight! <3”

You sat your phone down and got ready for the last day of the work week. A couple of hours into work, your phone buzzed in your purse. It was Chris.

“Hey baby, I slept great. I hope you did too. I can’t wait to see you tonight. Have a good day at work! <3”

You smiled, placing your phone back into your purse and getting back to the task at hand. A few more hours passed and you received another text from Chris letting you know that he had made it home. You replied with a quick acknowledgement and got back to work. The day dragged on at an excruciatingly slow pace, however. You thought you’d never be off, when finally, the clock struck five. It was finally time to leave.

You rushed out to your car and drove home. You ran through the house to your bedroom and picked up the outfit that you had set aside for the occasion. You freshened up and did your hair and makeup, pleased with the result, especially in combination with the outfit you had changed into. You sprayed on some perfume and took one last look in the mirror. This was the best you’d looked in awhile, and you were pretty pleased with the outcome.

You glanced at the time, and realized it was time to be heading out. It wasn’t a particularly long drive to Chris’, you did live in the same town, after all, but you still didn’t want to be late. You stuffed your phone into your purse and grabbed the keys hanging on a hook near the front door and made your way out to your car. You decided to listen to some Motionless during your drive, just to amp yourself up even more.

After about fifteen minutes, you were finally pulling up to Chris’ house. You felt your heart skipping and you had a lump in your throat. To say you were nervous was an understatement, but that didn’t deter you one bit. You made your way to the front door and rang the bell, waiting for him to answer. After a few moments, the door swung open and you were greeted by the man you were expecting to see.

“Hey!” he said before pulling you into a hug, “You’re right on time.”

You pulled back, “Yep. We said seven so I made sure to be ready.”

“Well come on in,” he said, stepping to the side to allow you entrance.

You entered the residence that you had been in many times before, taking your shoes off by the door. You made your way into the living room and took a seat on the couch, Chris following close behind.

“So I already ordered the food, but can I get you something to drink?” he asked.

“Sure, I’ll take some water.”

“Be right back,” he replied.

You looked around the living room, taking in the unique touches that Chris had decorated his home with. Drawing in a deep breath, you steadied yourself for what was to come this evening. Before you knew it, Chris had returned with two bottles of water and took a seat next to you, handing you your drink.

“Thanks,” you said, taking a sip.

“No problem. So how was work?”

“Ugh, boring. I was too focused on coming here tonight.”

Chris laughed, “Yeah, I was practically counting the minutes all day. I’m so glad you’re here.”

You smiled at him, “So am I.”

The two of you sat, smiling sheepishly at one another.

“So, this is our first date…” he said, breaking the silence.

“It is. I hope it’s not our last one,” you responded.

“Oh, I’m sure it won’t be.”

“Good,” you said, smiling again.

The two of you sat in close proximity, gazing at one another. You could feel the electricity in the air as the two of you began to close the gap. Your face was mere inches away from his, when suddenly, the doorbell rang.

“Oh, the food’s here. Damn, that was fast,” Chris said, getting up to answer the door.

You took the moment to collect yourself. You had been so close to finally kissing him. You could almost curse the delivery person at the door. After a moment, Chris returned carrying bags of food.

“Ready to eat?” he asked.

“Actually yeah, I had to skip lunch today so I could definitely eat.”

He took his seat next to you once more and began assembling the contents on the coffee table, “Why’d you have to skip lunch?”

“Oh, just too busy with work stuff. It happens sometimes.”

“Gotcha. Well, I hope you like what I ordered. It’s the same thing we got the last time you were here.”

“Awesome,” you replied while gathering up your food.

The two of you ate and chatted about Chris’ tour and your work and just life in general. Nothing too serious. Even still, you were enjoying yourself immensely.

After you finished eating, Chris cleaned up the remnants and handed you the remote, “Here, pick a movie.”

“What do you feel like watching?” you asked.

“Whatever you want. Maybe something horror?”

“Sounds good to me.”

You scrolled through the endless streaming services as Chris finished cleaning up dinner. You finally landed on Trick ‘R Treat, a movie you knew Chris loved.

He came back into the living room taking his seat next to you, “Trick ‘R Treat, huh? Can’t say I’ve ever seen this one.”

You laughed, “Oh yeah, that’s why I picked it. I wanted you to see something new.”

He laughed with you, “It’s a good choice. We don’t have to watch it just because you know that I like it, though.”

“Hey, I like it too. Plus, it would probably be advantageous to pick something we’ve already seen so we can still talk and not miss anything.”

“You make a good point,” he said, wrapping an arm around you and settling in for the movie.

You nuzzled into his side and focused your attention on the movie beginning in front of you. The movie played for at least half an hour without a word from either of you. You were desperate to try and kiss him again. You contemplated making the first move for what felt like an eternity. Eventually, you worked up the nerve to slide away just enough so that you could face him. His head turned and he caught your gaze.

You were exceedingly nervous, so you simply smiled shyly at him. He returned your grin and before you knew it, he was placing a hand softly on the side of your face. You felt as though you could melt beneath his touch. Your brain had no time to register what was happening as Chris leaned down slowly into you, caressing your lips with his in your very first kiss.

You pressed your lips into his, savoring the softness of his lips. Your mouths worked in unison, dancing with one another. You could have kissed him all night. After a few minutes of light kissing, you felt Chris’ tongue sweep across your bottom lip, asking for permission to enter. You gladly parted your mouth and met his tongue with yours. Your tongues lapping against one another as the kiss grew in intensity. It wasn’t long before Chris had his hands tangled in your hair.

Feeling bold, you placed a hand on his thigh as you continued kissing. Chris gently nipped and sucked your bottom lip giving you all the encouragement you needed to slide your hand up his thigh until you were lightly gripping his cock over his pants. He moaned softly into your mouth as one of his hands left your hair to press your hand even more firmly into his crotch. He moved your hand so that you were rubbing his cock through the material. You could feel him growing hard beneath you.

Soon, you were taking the lead and rubbing him with no assistance. Chris’ hand now on your waist, working its way under the hem of your shirt. He kissed you with fervor as his hand slid upward to caress your breast over your bra. You barely had a chance to take in the sensation before Chris was pulling his hand and lips away from you.

“Come on,” he said standing up and pulling you with him until you were cradled in his arms, “I want the first time I fuck you to be in my bed.”

You felt the blood rush through your system. You couldn’t believe this was happening. You’d dreamt about it. You’d blogged discreetly about it, and you knew he knew that you had been waiting for this.

Chris carried you into his room and laid you down on his bed, the softness of his pillow catching your head. He wasted no time towering over you and kissing you vigorously. His hands roamed up and down your body as his mouth moved with yours. You pulled at his shirt until he sat back on his knees and removed the article of clothing. You stared at his heavily tattooed body, feeling lust begin to wash over you. You couldn’t get your clothes off fast enough.

Chris tore your shirt off and made haste with your jeans. You didn’t give him a chance to start with your underwear as you were too busy undoing his pants and pulling them down, leaving him in just his boxer briefs. He could see the hungry look in your eye, and placed his thumbs under the waistband or his underwear and pulled them down his legs, freeing his cock. Your eyes grew wide as you watched him bounce out of the material. You couldn’t stop staring. You couldn’t even hide it, and you didn’t care. 

Chris didn’t seem to mind either, as he gave a slight chuckle and asked, “Like what you see?”

Your eyes still didn’t leave his cock, “Love it,” you replied absently.

He laughed again, “Okay, well, now it’s my turn to see you.”

With that, he was pulling your panties off, leaving you in just your bra, which didn’t stay on much longer, either. Chris pulled you forward and busied his hands with unclasping the material at your back and then pulling the garment off of you, leaving you both completely naked.

“Fuck…” he said, his eyes roaming your body.

You thought he was in some sort of trance momentarily and you began to move toward him, finally feeling bold enough to make the next move. However, your plans were thwarted when Chris wrapped a hand around your throat and pushed you onto your back.

“I’ve seen the things you post about, baby. I know what you want me to do to you.”

Your cheeks flushed hot, and you almost felt embarrassed. You bit your lip and broke eye contact.

“No, don’t get shy on me now. I know what kind of girl you really are, what you want from me. Now take it,” he said, applying more pressure around your throat.

You felt your pussy clench at his words. You couldn’t remember the last time you wanted someone this badly. You subconsciously spread your legs.

Chris noticed your motions, “See? That’s my good girl. Spread your legs nice and wide for me.”

You fought back a small moan as Chris towered over you once again, his body pressed against yours as he kissed you roughly, his hand tightening even more around your throat. You could feel his hard cock pressing against your thigh. You wanted it. Wanted him.

You wrapped your legs around his waist as if begging him to fuck you. He took the hint and pulled away from you. You took in a deep breath as his hand left your throat to open the drawer of the bedside table. He pulled out a condom and immediately tore the package open. You watched hungrily as he slid the condom onto his cock.

He adjusted himself on top of you once more, “Normally, I’d take my time with you baby, and I promise I will next time, but I need you too fucking badly right now.”

You merely nodded in response as you felt him lining himself up with your entrance. Chris took one last look in your eyes, pressing his forehead against yours before he slowly slid himself inside. You let out a small gasp as you felt his entire girth stretching you open. Your eyelids fluttered as you composed yourself.

Chris seemed to need a second to adjust, as well. After a moment, he began to rock back and forth inside of you before kissing you again as he continued. You kissed back feverishly, and wrapped your legs around him once more. He wrapped one arm beneath the small of your back and pulled you slightly upward into him. The two of you moaned into each other’s mouths at the new angle. He was still moving slowly, but he was hitting that sweet spot inside of you that made your toes curl.

It wasn’t long after that he pulled himself from your lips and wrapped his free hand around your throat again, cutting off slight circulation. He stared intently into your eyes, watching for any slight change. He began bucking his hips more forcefully, filling the room with slapping sounds. You could hear how wet your pussy was getting. You let out a slightly louder moan.

“Is this what you wanted, baby?” he asked, still fucking you.

“Mmm, yes.”

“Yeah? You wanted me to fuck you, pretty girl?”

You arched your back as you felt Chris’ grip on your throat tighten, “Yes. Wanted you to fuck me so bad…”

Chris moaned and quickened his pace, “I know, baby. I know exactly what you want from me.”

You moaned louder as Chris grabbed at your hip and throat and practically slammed you into him. He was so much bigger than you. You thought he might break you, and you didn’t care in the slightest.

“Mmm. Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

“Fuck yes…” you responded wantonly.

“Tell me,” he demanded.

“You feel so fucking good, Chris. Fuck…”

Chris moaned louder, “That’s my good girl. That’s my good fucking girl…”

His grip on your throat tightened until you were sure he would leave marks. Good. You wanted the reminder that you were now his. The thought spurred your lust even more until you were writhing and moaning beneath him, arching your back into him and trying to soak up as much of him as you could.

“Oh, fuck. You feel so fucking good, baby. I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long…” he moaned.

He picked up the pace and gripped you harder. You could feel yourself getting close.

“Oh my god, Chris. Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” you whined.

“Yeah? Is my good girl gonna cum for me? You wanna fucking cum, sweetheart?”

You closed your eyes, “Oh, fuck, yes!”

You felt Chris’ lips crash onto yours, kissing you hungrily, swallowing your moans. He never stopped fucking you. Your pussy felt like it was on fire in the best possible way. You felt your cunt clamp down on his cock as he bit your lip before trailing over to whisper in your ear.

“Cum for me, baby. Let me hear you.”

“Oh! Fuck! Mmm…” you began cumming.

Chris moaned into your ear, causing you to cum even harder, “Oh fuck, that’s my girl. That’s my good fucking girl…”

You were just starting to come down from your orgasm as you heard Chris hit his, “Fuck! Ohhh… Shit.”

Your legs were trembling around his waist and your hands had fallen to your sides. Your whole body felt like jello and you weren’t sure if you were even able to move at this point. You felt Chris slow to a stop and you could hear his shallow, jagged breath by your ear. After a moment, he let go of your neck and placed a kiss where the bruises were beginning to form.

Eventually, Chris pulled himself out of you and removed the condom, tying it up and throwing it away in a trash can he had near the bedside table. He moved next to you and laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling, collecting himself and steadying his breathing.

“Fuck. That was well worth the wait,” he said, breaking the silence.

You smiled at him, “I think so too.”

Chris smiled back, “So, does this mean you're my girlfriend now, or do you want a few more dates first?”

“Do you want me to be your girlfriend now?” you inquired.

“Yes. Very much so,” he laughed.

You giggled, “Okay, then I’m your girlfriend.”

Chris smiled widely, “Good.”

Before you could respond, his mouth was on yours, once more. A lighter, sweeter kiss this time, but passionate, just the same. You kissed for a few moments more before Chris pulled back, turning to lay on his side, and pulled you flush against him, spooning you.

You lay in silence for a few minutes, enjoying each other’s company and processing all that had just transpired when Chris said, “I’m so glad I stalked your blog.”

You laughed, “Give you some ideas, did it?”

“Definitely. Oh, and don’t worry. I know there was a lot that I didn’t get to this time, but I promise I’ll cross everything off your list very, very soon.”

You laughed once more, “Okay, good. I promise to learn yours too and do them for you as well.”

He returned your laugh, “Maybe I should start using my blog again so you can learn about my kinks too.”

“No way,” you began, still laughing, “If you’re gonna copy me, at least make a private blog that only I know about. We don’t need your fans knowing about the slutty things we do.”

“Okay, I promise it’ll be private, but it’s gonna be filthy.”

“I think I can handle it,” you replied.

“Oh, I’m sure you can if yours is any indication of how nasty you are, sweetheart.”

You giggled again, “What can I say, I know what I want.”

“Yeah, so do I, and I plan on showing you,” he said as he rubbed his hand up and down your hip.

You ground your ass against his cock, daring him to get hard again, “Can’t wait, baby.”

[heavenlyvision]

Ok so I was just eating a Candy Cane and my mind went real nasty real quick so I gotta scream into the void :

Imagine if you an Bi-Han were fucking right? Doggy style right in front of a mirror, already perfect. BUT imagine he put a candy cane in your mouth and stops fucking you every time the candy falls out your mouth but you’re so fucked out that you don’t even realize it’s out so Bi-Han puts it back in your mouth and you mindlessly start sucking on it as he fucks your brains out

Anyways-

No this is so valid, I think he would also be mean about it !!! You’ve made me open my third eye, I’m apparently feeling unhinged today because I wrote a short little thing for you over this <33

Smut below the cut | MDNI

Bi-Han has you on all fours waiting for him, you hear him unwrapping something from behind you.

His eyes meet yours in the mirror. “Keep this in your mouth” he growls at you.

Wordlessly you open your mouth, waiting for him to present you with what he was referring to, when you see it you realise it’s a candy cane.

You take it in your mouth, sucking on it mindlessly. He’s pleased by your unquestioning compliance.

He’s positioning himself behind you, dick swiping through your wet folds, the feeling making you both moan lightly. The candy cane threatens to fall from your lips but you suck harder on it. Bi-Han hums appreciatively from behind you.

“That’s it, so well behaved,” he mumbles.

Looking into the mirror in front of you, you meet eyes with him. His gaze firm as he watches you suck at the sweet treat.

He watches your face carefully as he slips the tip of himself inside your tight pussy. A moan falls from you at the fullness and he grunts at you disapprovingly, the candy cane has fallen from your mouth without you realising. He leans over you, slipping inside you completely as he does. He grabs the candy cane and puts it back in your mouth, your lips automatically sucking onto it again, much to Bi-Han’s delight.

“Keep. It. There.” He grunts at you.

Your reply is a thoughtless hum.

Slowly, he draws his hips back, watching the way your face pinches in the mirror. He groans at the cute expression you make but your mouth drops open in a moan again, the candy falling from your mouth.

Slamming back into you, he leans forward again and places it back in your mouth. Almost every time he draws out of you, your mouth drops open in a moan and he has to put the treat back in your mouth.

He slaps your ass, bringing your cock drunk gaze back to attention. You’re looking at him, waiting for him to speak.

“Pay attention and suck on your treat like I’ve told you to,” he says, tone stern, reprimanding.

You look sheepish as you mumble, “Mm sorry, you feel too good…”

He sticks the candy cane back between your lips and you suck again.

“All you have to do is suck,” his eyes are dark as he looks at you.

You nod your head complacently at him.

He starts fucking into you again, rougher this time. You do your best to remember the candy cane but with the way he feels dragging against you, your mind floats away, eyes glazing over at the feeling. Bi-Han enjoys that look on your face immensely but he’s still disappointed at your inability to do one thing.

He stops fucking you suddenly and you whine at him in response, he again, puts it back in your mouth. He doesn’t say anything but his gaze is threatening.

The pace he set picks up again, fucking you dumb on his fat cock. And you must really be dumb right now because it drops from your mouth again. Causing Bi-Han to stop fucking you again. Which makes you whine pitifully at him, again.

He simply picks it back up and shoves it in your mouth again before continuing his brutal fucking. The sounds of your wet pussy squelching around him fill the room and you’re trying really hard to remember to suck but he keeps hitting something devastating inside you and you drop it again.

You scrabble to pick it up this time, placing the candy cane back in your own mouth, desperate for him to keep going.

He has a proud look on his face at your desperation for him to continue. His hands grip your hips tightly, his thrusts harsh. Your arms are barely able to keep yourself up, threatening to give out under your own weight. You drop to your forearms. The angle deeper now, his cock reaching further inside you. A large moan slips from you and the candy cane falls out again.

You don’t even notice this time, too lost in the feeling of his cock deep inside you. He quickly shoves it back in your mouth, too close to his own high to bother punishing you. Not when his own orgasm is so close.

You’re twitching around him, cunt pulsing with how close you are to cumming on him. His groans are loud as he fucks himself into you. His eyes are careful to watch you through the mirror.

Your own eyes fucked out and glazed over, unseeing while you mindlessly suck on the candy cane. You’re drooling around it now and the sight has Bi-Han cumming very suddenly, pumping you full of all his cum.

The way he twitches inside you pushes you over the edge, the force of your orgasm has you biting down on the candy cane, snapping it in half.

You’re both huffing, coming down from your highs together. Bi-Han’s eyes are still on your face, smiling smugly at you and how stupid you look right now. Completely cock drunk from him.

He leans down to your ear and whispers, “Merry fucken Christmas.”

His words send a shudder down your spine. Merry fucken Christmas indeed.

[coolmayordamien]

A little Darkstache songfic for @willywarfy

Song is The Midnight Crew, Eddie Morton

"Dar-dar-Darkiplier," a monotonous, glitchy voice stammered tonelessly, breaking right through the entity's concentration. Dark scowled down at the paperwork that he had finally had a second to take a stab at, took a deep breath, and then trained the scowl on the android that was loitering in the doorway to his office.

"Wilford is ha-hav-having a malfunction," Google informed him, seeming completely unconcerned. "He is in the stud-d-dy, screaming and waving a gun-"

"Is anyone else in there with him?" Dark interrupted, hurriedly organizing the papers before him as he spoke. While screaming and waving guns around were honestly pretty typical behaviors for the man with the pink mustache, if Google said that the man was having a "malfunction", that could really only mean one thing.

"No one else was with him at the time," the android answered promptly, and Dark was relieved to know that Wil probably hadn't had much of an opportunity to hurt anyone in the midst of his crisis.

"I'm going up there. Don't let anyone else near that room until I say otherwise, do you understand?"

"I un-understand," Google nodded, his suspicious gaze following the grayscale man all the while. He wondered what Dark did to stop these attacks. It was probably something so horrifically violent that the android shuddered just thinking about it.

--

Dark heard Wilford before he saw the man, heard the bangs and crashes as it sounded like the madman was going out of his way to destroy the room that contained him. Heard the agonized cries, heard him scream in fear and anger and confusion as he tried to remember things that he wasn't supposed to remember, as he called out for friends that he would never see again, and for help that would never come.

Dark was going to have to do, instead.

He cautiously opened the door, observing the damage that had already been dealt. Discarded papers drifted through the air, gently fluttering down to land on a floor that was littered with shredded books and broken glass. It seemed that Wilford had shot out at least one window in his panic, and gotten almost all of the lamps.

Wilford, who had backed himself into the corner furthest from the door at Dark's arrival (the most secure position in the room, of course) and who was watching the entity with a sharp, unhinged gaze. His hands were shaking as he pointed a gun at his friend, his breathing rapid, his voice high as he rambled.

"Wh-who…Damien?" the hopeful note in his voice would have pierced right through Dark's heart, if he'd had one. It confirmed his suspicions about what kind of breakdown they were having here, though, and while it was one of Wilford's more emotional kinds, it was also the easiest to deal with.

"No, no, no, you're not Damien," the Colonel corrected himself, his grip on the gun tightening. "He doesn't look like…he's not…what are you?! What sort of awful place is this? First the robot, now a prime example of homo necrosis! I assure you, sir, that I am well up for the privilege of putting down a walking bag of bones such as yourself!"

The wild glint in his eyes became even sharper and more disturbing as his voice lowered with the intensity of his emotions.

Dark sighed lightly, hating what he was about to have to do. Wilford had better really appreciate him for this later.

He turned his back on the gun-toting lunatic as if he were completely unphased by him, humming under his breath as he began to unbutton his suit coat, hanging it primly over the back of the most intact chair.

"What the hell are you doing?" William cried, enraged. "Keep your damn clothes on, you fool! Tell me where my friends are! Tell me what you've done to them!"

Ignoring the questions completely, Dark said loudly, "I hate a moral coward."

The silence that followed his declaration was tense with shock and confusion, and that was enough to encourage the entity to continue, spinning on his heel as he offered his old friend a big, vaudeville smile.

"One who lacks a manly spark," the entity continued, pantomiming a challenge to fisticuffs as he loudly tapped a heel against the wooden floor.

"Are you out of your mind?" Wil demanded, lowering his gun. Dark ignored the irony of that question, an act that he decided was so damn altruistic that he probably deserved a medal.

"I just detest a man afraid to go home in the dark," he said cheerfully, trying to work up a bit of a song as he slowly made his way closer to his unstable companion.

"Well…I mean, don't we all?" the gunman agreed, unaware of the fact that he was holstering his weapon as he spoke.

"I always spend my evenings where there's women, wine, and song!" Dark sang happily, inching ever closer amidst his wide, friendly gestures. He was beyond pleased to see a flash of recognition in Wilford's suspicious eyes at the familiar old tune.

"But like a man…" Wil trailed off, confusion overtaking the fear and anger that had fueled him only moments before.

Delighted, Dark threw caution to the wind, gently tossing a friendly arm around his old pal's shoulders. "But like a man, I always bring my little wife along!"

The Colonel laughed; a lovely, hearty sound as he swooped Dark into a hug, the force of which threatened to crack the entity's spine like a twig. It was a nice feeling, that hug, but it wasn't a Wilford hug.

"Damy, you silly blighter, why didn't you just tell me that it was you in the first place?" William chortled, waving a condescending finger as he lectured, "I could have shot you!"

Before Dark could respond, Wil had him in his arms again, orchestrating the pair of them both in a silly, friendly, affectionate dance that didn't fit the tune or theme of that song at all, and it never had, and it didn't matter how many times Damien had complained about the awkwardness of trying to slow dance to a vaudeville tune, it had never mattered one whit to his fun-loving friend. This sort of thing was madness, after all.

"I'm a member of the midnight crew!" William laughed, spinning Dark quickly as the entity struggled to follow along.

"I'm a night owl-"

"And a wise bird too!"

Together they sang, breathless with laughter and dancing, "Home with the milk in the morning, singing the same old song!"

Chuckling, they collapsed into each other, holding on tightly as William tripped over the mess that he had caused, dragging the pair of them down into a giggling, teary-eyed pile. The hysteria bubbled up inside of them both, dragging the moment out so long that it exhausted Wil. Dark knew the exact moment that the emotions reached a crescendo in his friend, felt the difference in the grip the mustached man had on the entity's middle, heard the difference in the way that the two sides of his friend breathed, and knew that he had done his job.

"Dark?" Wilford asked softly, breathless with laughter from a joke that he didn't even remember being a part of. "What are we doing here? Isn't it…isn't it late? I thought that you were doing paperwork. And I was supposed to…to go to bed, right?"

That was exactly the case, and Dark finally let himself wonder what exactly had occurred during that process to set Wilford off. It didn't really matter right now, though. After he finally got his old friend to bed, he'd go over every inch of this room to see if anything in there could have possibly triggered Wil's memory.

"Nah," he said casually, forcing himself to his feet. "Early to bed and you'll miss all the fun!"

Eyebrows furrowed as he allowed the entity to help him to his feet, Wilford asked, "Is that from a song or something? It sounds a little familiar, but I'm not sure…"

Dark forced himself to laugh a little, reaching for his suit coat once again. "Just something that an old friend and I used to say. Come on. Let's get you something sweet, and then it's off to bed, I think."

Dark loved Wilford, he really did. Wouldn't trade him for the world. But it had been nice to spend a little time with his old friend.

[queer-overwatch]

venture and junkrat sharing how they chipped/lost their teeth… pls i beg 🤲

Venture and Junkrat storytime

Honestly this was so much fun!!-Xor

⫷════ •⊰♨⊱• ════⫸

Junkrat has always been one for scar stories, so he always asks. Sometimes the way he asks is rather silly and goofy just silly questions here and there in his usual excitable nature other times it was just a very blunt "tell em how you got that scar"

Venture on the other hand is just at excitable and easy to persuade about scars themselves. They try not to ask about other people's scars unless really really interested.

Junkrat just HAD to ask that new guy Venture they said their name was. He swore that chip in their tooth came from a dinosaur or maybe some giant drill bigger than the one they carry

Venture of course was more than happy to answer stating they got it from biting into a rough geode while trying to keep their reward away from the other way finders for jokes of course.

Junkrat is fully immersed in the story grinning , he's so excitable definitely some mad giggling as he asks questions

Venture is equally as cautious and lightly brings up how both of them have teeth or at least parts of teeth missing.

Junkrat happily , almost proudly goes into his story. It was a firecracker that took out his tooth. As much as it hurt losing the tooth he 100% would do it again

Venture is just astonished the whole time , there's definitely some concern but honestly it's just wild .

Both of them start trading stories back and forth after Junkrat insists he tell Venture about how he met and hired Roadhog, and how he lost his leg.

══════ஜ▲ஜ══════

And a lively little blurb written by Frisk -Xor

"So uh, teeth ay?"

Somehow, someway, fate decided to put Venture and Junkrat in the same place at the same time, because there wasn't already enough chaos in the world.

"Yeah! Teeth are so cool, you ever seen those cool fun facts that are like 'did you know you can bite off a finger if you try hard enough'? No clue if it's true or not!" Venture had warmed up to him almost immediately. Something about his personality intrigued them! He seemed just as eccentric and extroverted as they were! Though maybe a bit more unhinged- but that could be overlooked!

"I have! And it's true! This one time I was in a scrap with some lady who's name I forgot and I bit off her finger on accident! I won though, so I got to keep it!" Junkrat retells his story enthusiastically, maybe a bit too happy to tell Venture about it but hey, every story's worth hearing once!

"Is that how you lost your tooth?" They gesture to the gap in his smile, completely forgetting how it was considered rude to ask people about scars and such. They never cared when people asked about theirs, so they tend to forget other people *do* care.

"Aw, this old thing? Nah, I blew that baby out myself! Almost swallowed it, but I didn't! Now it's part of a cool necklace I have at home!" Sticking his tongue through the gap as far as he could, and getting spit everywhere, he talks all about how him and Roadhog were trying to bomb their way into a vault and Junkrat decided to try and make the explosion pretty with firecrackers. To put it gently, it didn't go well.

"Oh wow, that sounds painful! That's such a cool story compared to mine though. I just chipped my tooth trying to bite a rock, it was funny at the time, still is if you ask me!" Venture laughs as they get their own story out, eager to tell someone just as reckless as they are all about themselves and the probably stupid things they do!

[cassidymaeve]

Ships me and my friends used to roleplay but they get worse and worse each time . . . pt1?

^ Art is not mine, nor is the base.

Nina nd Cody! This is definitely not a popular ship, but it is one of my favorites! I think their dynamic is very . . . different? But quite compatible

Their dynamic would be popular, deranged girl x her nerdy, observer boyfriend. But don’t get me wrong; Cody is also deranged, just a little less :)

I think both Cody and Nina would be quite selfish, putting themselves before anyone else. But they do have a mutual respect for eachother not everyone can comprehend. That’s what makes them an unhinged couple

They don’t want to get married or have children, because in general, they’re only together because they enjoy each other’s company.

They are not love-sick romantics, but rather just a couple who leave each other alone. If I’m honest, I don’t think Cody would give two flying fucks if Nina cheated/or had an interest in someone else.

Headcanons!! :

- Definitely would not dance together. I just don’t see it.

- Especially slow dancing, Cody would never do that. Or Nina.

- Cody buys Nina little things he’d think she’d like

- Like bows, tights, skirts

- I don’t really see them having intimacy

- But if they do it’s very rare

- Maybe during a stressful day Cody will lightly suggest it

- Cody’s an observer.

- Meaning, he knows what Nina likes. In and out. He never fails to make her happy

- But Nina? Not so much. If Cody lightly hints what he likes, she wouldn’t take on the social cue.

- Nina’s love language is physical touch, and Cody’s is quality time

- Cody views Nina as a pet. As toxic as it sounds, it’s true

- He definitely is quite inexperienced relating to relationships, but he tries for her

- Nina on the other hand, she views Cody as a smart, intelligent man that if, Nina didn’t confess, wouldn’t be with her.

- Cody hates PDA.

- Nina doesn’t mind it.

- “Babe” That’s the only pet name the couple would use.

That’s all!!

[saintsenara]

Hi, if you're still doing the ask game, may I inquire about your opinion on the following ships ? : Tomarrinny, Bartymort, Quirrellmort, Petermort and Tom Sr/Cecilia/Merope. Also, thoughts on MoD!Voldemort or on how a meeting between Snape and Petunia would have gone ? Thanks !

thank you very much, @take-the-unknow-road-now for this wonderful selection of unhinged things for me to talk about. i am always ready for asks which inspire chaos:

tomarrinny

when she's eleven, harry's twelve, and tom is an immortal shard of soul? no.

when she's thirty, harry's thirty-one, and tom is back from the dead for some reason? absolutely.

after all, why shouldn't ginny be allowed two orphans, as a treat? and why shouldn't tom be allowed two people who are clearly less good-looking than him to pay him attention? plus, two quidditch players will definitely be willing to do all the work, allowing him to achieve his true form: undying pillow princess.

but - in reality - we all know which way the power dynamic actually lies: tom and ginny are both harry's subs.

let's hope that their ability to jointly write a poem has improved since the "his eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad" days...

bartymort

canon.

there has never been a man with a more flagrant daddy kink than barty crouch jr., and we all know that he threw himself onto lord voldemort's lap the second he arrived in his first death eater meeting.

the dark lord advised him that he'd be physically chastised if this behaviour continued. unfortunately for him, that was exactly what barty wanted to happen.

the reason it burned out hard is because lord voldemort also has towering daddy issues. he is even forced to reveal what his real name and background is in an effort to make barty understand that sometimes he'd like to do something other than put on a double-breasted suit and pretend he's come home on time to attend a birthday party. [for example: "hello son, i've come to pick you up from the orphanage" role-play.)

barty literally couldn't give less of a fuck. lord voldemort isn't sorry when he gets turned into a soulless husk.

quirrellmort

lord voldemort - overcome with joy at being back in a human body after a decade - doesn't think through how awkward the aftermath of this will be, and spends the first night he's attached to quirrell's head directing him in a... let's just say... exploration of his anatomy.

quirrell is so pathetically suggestible that - from that point onwards - he can't get off unless the dark lord is talking dirty to him. but can you imagine how cringe trying to speak sexily to quirrell must be?

[hey baby, what are you wearing? a turban which smells of garlic?]

voldemort simply pretends not to have heard when quirrell brings this up. unfortunately, all this does is make quirrell want to talk about his feelings.

lord voldemort isn't sorry when harry kills him.

petermort

flopping. lord voldemort hates wormtail, because he betrayed a man to whom he would give his affections: james potter.

[seriously, he is a simp for james. there is no other explanation for why he insists that james fought him bravely when he turned up on halloween when we canonically know that what james actually did was run into the hall without his wand and then fall over.]

but don't worry. wormtail is getting some god-tier hate sex out of snape.

tom riddle sr./cecilia/merope gaunt

i'm going to answer this lightly, on the assumption that this triad is consensual.

tom sr. is getting thrown out of the bedroom within seconds. they're lesbians.

[he'll be fine. he goes for a little walk to sulk and ends up making out with frank bryce against a rose trellis. the four of them become bffs.]

and then our not-ship questions:

lord voldemort as the master of death

sounds like a lot of hard work, plus both of his parents keep appearing whenever he touches the resurrection stone to shout at him.

snape versus petunia

snape went round to speak to her about what a dick he thinks harry is [dumbledore told him to speak to her about the blood protection, he didn't want to].

they fucked.

[plumbitch]

"Good morning, lover,"

He didn't put the candles out. Totaling up replacement costs is going to put her out twenty gold--an outrageous thought, surely, but also factors in the backups she'll need to restock on top of throwing out the surely melted husks of what remains. She can't remember if she told him not to let that happen. It feels so good to be home. Not just in her home, back home. Messy, unhinged, and beautifully chaotic Baldur's Gate. She thought of home like a long lost lover at a point while on the road--fleeting and just beyond reach. With the Absolute bullshit quashed and her loved ones most assuredly safe again, the past eights months go by in a pleasant blur of nothing but pure relief. The House of Ericia sits quiet this time of night and perfectly mundane. Somewhere in the darkened halls, her sister likely fills the quiet with the steady turning of a page, yet another hour on top of three other hours she told herself she'd commit to her studies before sleep takes her. Mama doesn't care to stay up longer than she needs, so she more than likely is lightly snoring under the soft beam of a pale moon's light in a room smelling faintly of jasmine. Her lips part and her voice fills the silence-- "'Good morning,' he says." It comes out in a miserable croak of sound. Gods... A powerful hand massages slow and deliberate circles upon her shoulder blades, drawing a low moan from her throat. She remembers a time when those hands became claws and became two things at once--capable of healing and capable of killing. How many lives fell before them during that crisis? Her brow draws tight but her eyes remain shut. No way is she entertaining anything else this night aside from the much deserved sleep just out of her reach. No more is she plagued by unwanted illithid visitors or the horrid nightmares of her fellow companions. From this point forward, her dreams are her own and, these days, they are full up recreating the calluses on the fingertips skirting down her side right now. Lips press close to her ears and they flick in response. His low, smoky chuckle sends a shiver down her body she knows she does not need (but, oh, is it so so welcome.) "Good morning..." he whispers. Her tail whips back and catches him on the chin, eliciting another laugh. Halsin gently guides her tail over her hip and resumes his path down her hip, tracing the ebony marks over the curve, and roaming further still down her thigh. "Goodnight..." He presses even closer. Nestles his nose right at the nape of her neck where the sweat still mingles with the spice of her favorite perfume. Tender lips mark a warm path across her shoulders for every kiss he alights upon her skin. "Sweetest of dreams be upon you, my lover. My heart. My Niralei." She doesn't answer save for the steady rise and fall of her breath.

[fuzzygoblin]

Year of the Dragon - A Smutty Valentine Fic

Rating: E

Word Count: 5k

Complete: Yes

CW/TW: Crowley is a dragon, Inter-species Sex, Naga Crowley (Good Omens), Wing Kink, Crowley Has Scales (Good Omens), Crowley Has Two Penises (Good Omens), Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Fluff and Smut, No Angst only Love

Summary

2024 is the Year of the Dragon! When partaking in the festivities, Crowley can’t help but let his demonic side out and cause a bit of mischief with Aziraphale there by his side as their revelry takes to the sky. Together the angel and demon explore their corporations in an exciting new way.

Set in a magical post Happy Ending world where Crowley and Aziraphale are, and always will be, an Us.

This fic is for ElysiumLeo , my valentine in the r/GoodOmensAfterDark Valentine's Gift Exchange 2024.

Prompts included in this fic: Wing Kink, Naga!Crowley (although I took some liberties introducing Dragon!Crowley hehe) and Crowley has Sensitive Scales

Excerpt

“Crowley?”

“Hrmm, yeah?”

“Would you like to go out for dumplings this evening?”

“Erm, sure, angel,” Crowley folded his newspaper down and looked over at Aziraphale, “Any particular reason?”

“Oh, I just had a craving,” Aziraphale smiles, it’s one of his radiant smiles that make the corners of his eyes wrinkle delightfully and makes Crowley’s jaw want to unhinge.

Folding the newspaper and discarding it down the side of the sofa where he was sprawled, Crowley launches himself up dick first, “Ready when you are.”

At this, Aziraphale laughs, a ringing melodious sound, puts down the book he was reading and gets up to meet the demon. They stand close together, comfortable now in the ease of their nearness. Aziraphale lets his fingertips softly trail up Crowley’s arms, across his shoulders and into his styled hair (lightly so as not to ruin the coif he’s so proud of). The angel presses his lips against Crowley’s and they smile into their kiss, tilting their heads to get the best angle, Crowley wraps his hands around Aziraphale’s waist and pulls him in close.

“I think we have some time before dinner.” Aziraphale murmurs into Crowley’s mouth before kissing him again.

“Appetisers before the main course?” Crowley grins.

“Temptation accomplished!” Aziraphale giggles, and they make their way hand-in-hand upstairs to the bedroom above the bookshop.

[gaoau]

it's (not) fine (ゼロ ; zero ; cero)

It's fine if you're not here. Either way, i'll always remember you. Hey, kei, say my name. It's not fine if you're not here.

pairing — Baji Keisuke x reader word count — 4.7k note — this is a spin-off of it's so cold. it can be read on its own, but some context might be missing. thanks for reading!

It's fine.

i've convinced myself it is, at least. It's been quite some time since things started changing—since people started leaving. i've grown as used to it as i can so it'd be easier on Mikey. Whether it worked when Ken happened or not, i can't really tell. i think it might have. Seeing how things turned out with South, maybe it didn't. It doesn't really matter—it does, just not quite the way it's supposed to. When things are quiet like this, it feels like Mikey never even killed anyone in the first place. The same way he once killed Tora—though that was erased—and the same way i once killed Manjiro—though that was erased—and the same way he once killed South—though that.

It's quiet in here. Kanto Manji has grown so obnoxiously large that it's hardly quiet around me anymore. Mikey headed out earlier without a word, Haru in tow, and Koko's busy downstairs with an ong—Koko's just busy. i don't know what everyone else is doing. Commando unit, special attack unit, even Kakucho. Bullshit. The only special attack unit i ever cared for was kei and Tora. i like things better when they're like this; quiet and empty and peaceful. i'm not sure when i started to like silence so much.

It's quiet now, but it was never quiet around kei.

My sigh echoes in this emptiness. i've convinced myself it's fine while i try and find something that won't remind me of him. It seems difficult when i keep clinging onto him like this. The cross pendant engraves its shape on my palm the more i tighten my fist around it. i've always loved kei's sense of fashion, but this necklace suddenly seems horrendous. It's hard to believe the moon hanging in the sky is the same one that drifted by when we were together. Photographs are just pieces of paper and memories are nothing but dust, yet it all makes him resurface in my mind.

A big heart and a big smile and a big voice. Although the room is quiet, my head isn't. It plays in a timber gruff and too deep for a kid my age. Then again, it's been two years and he's no longer my age where he left. If anyone can stay young forever, it's definitely kei—in heart and spirit, of course, because physically he's sure to grow and open up that pet shop he's always wanted.

It plays. It's the ghost in the back of my head, playing, "Chifuyu's unhinged!"

The loud sound of his laughter rings through the air, somehow—but unsurprisingly—overpowering his roaring engine. i lean against the backrest and curl my fingers a little more securely around his precious Goki. Even if i have my own bike, kei's always been persuasive enough to make me hitch a ride with him. He's here, right in front of me, and i laugh alongside him. "I heard!" my cackles mimic his, "He's really got your back, huh?"

"That's putting it lightly." And it really is. Chifuyu's been with him for less than i have, but he knows how to make consistent choices. If there's anyone i trust to keep kei safe, it's definitely his new vice-captain. Back then, at least; now that i've stared at his death these many times, i should have known.

So i let my shoulders bounce in glee and amusement. "Better keep my hands off you, then." These little moments, when we're hanging out at the dojo, bare feet padding on the mats, chasing the moon so high in the sky; the blurred line between Toman meetings in the middle of the night and childhood friends bantering. "Or tell him to chill out," i snicker. i doubt Chifuyu would lay a hand on me.

In a fit of sheer stupidity, in typical kei fashion, he cranes his neck back and grins at me over his shoulder. "What, were you thinking 'bout putting me in my place?"

"kei!" i scramble to shake him by the shoulders and slap his attention back forward. "Eyes on the road, dipshit!" i catch a flash of the moon blooming in his fangs before he speeds down the road. And i give up. He lets me have the last word and i think just this is okay, so i let it go. i hold onto him tight until we arrive at Musashi Shrine.

When we park, it's a distance away from the torii gate, as per usual. This is where we part ways, because i don't think there's ever been a time when kei and i crossed to the sacred together. It's always meeting him after he's already far ahead, or not meeting him at all for a decade. i get off his bike and slap his back with enthusiasm. But kei catches me by the sleeve of my uniform before i can leave. He knows i need to—He knows i usually head up to wait for Mikey. He's always been persuasive enough.

Chifuyu's already idling by his own parked bike and kei drags me to chat him up for a little while. In his mind, a minute longer keeps me from sinking. i indulge him. Cracking jokes with these two is never dull; sharing a regular friendly conversation is always so peacefully mundane. It's loud and it's fleeting, but it's welcome. i do wonder what's taking Mikey so long. i haven't seen his Babu, so i'm guessing he's not here yet.

i only manage a wandering glance towards the torii gate before kei's voice pulls me away, "Wanna join us for some burgers after the meeting?" It's the way he says my given name that brings me back from the pressure on my shoulders. It's my name he says. It's not a mess of sounds in the shape of a brand.

"Yeah!" Then Chifuyu chimes in with that nickname Mikey passed onto everyone around me. It doesn't show on my face; it never has. "We should hang out!"

i chuckle at their mirroring beams. It's light-hearted. "Only if you're paying, kei."

Chifuyu again, with that nickname and an honorific far too formal. "That's what I'm here for! I wouldn't make my captains pay, right, Baji-san?"

i glare pointedly at Chifuyu's captain. "kei." My tone is accusatory enough to make him feign ignorance. kei averts his eyes from mine with a cheeky smile, palms and shoulders raised to plead not guilty. There's not a single timeline in which he's guilty. A snort slips, "i'd fuck you up, kei," and i glance at kei's unhinged vice-captain, "but i'd rather not get stri—"

"There you are!" comes Mikey's distinctive voice from behind me. He calls my nickname with familiarity. It can't bother me, not this early on in the game.

i instantly turn towards him. It's weird that i didn't hear his Babu pull up. Not that it matters, really. "Mikey!" i call back to him, beaming, waving for him to come closer before i head to him.

Mikey's looking around as he stops a few feet before me, Ken trailing behind. "Where's your bike?"

"Oh, i came with kei."

His eyes shift to kei for a brief moment, empty. Then he lets out a soft chuckle, his attention back on me, a simper on his lips as he shakes his head. "Dummy… Guess I gotta give you a ride back now."

"Sure." i smile back at him. Then i turn to look at kei and Chifuyu again, and i see the expressions on their faces. It's cute to find Chifuyu's disappointed i'm turning him down, but kei—It's only for a moment. "Ah, i'll—Maybe next time? i'll catch you guys later." i leave them with a small wave, because although kei's always persuasive, it's never enough to tear me away from Mikey permanently. 

i feel lighter in my own skin and bones by the time i stand next to Mikey, feeling the ghost of a tug on my sleeve reminding me i'm allowed to exist outside of my self-imposed priorities. We cross the torii gates together; we transition from the mundane to the untouchable. i laugh and i enjoy my time alongside my friends. i don't quite see what kei does, or his reasoning for making me hitch rides that can't stop me. He thinks i won't run away this time, but i've always chosen Mikey over myself.

He knows that. And it's not something he needs to stop. It's fine, after all, it's always been like this. kei knows that.

kei or simply Baji Keisuke. For everyone, Baji—Baji-san, Baji-kun, Baji in admiration and in friendship and in disdain. For me, however, just kei. i never understood why Mikey chose Baji, too. i think about the way i addressed the people surrounding me sometimes. Tora for Kazutora, and Takashi's first name. Never that childish honorific for Ken, and even Pah was Haru before i realized i couldn't handle Haruchiyo's scars in my mind every time i talked to him. Even switching back and forth between Mikey and Manjiro, because i've never known who is who or who exists and who doesn't or who's real and who isn't. i could never curse Takemichi with Takemicchi. Koko—that wasn't a choice, but i think Koko is fine.

And then there was Baji Keisuke. Being with him since childhood, it only made sense i'd refer to him by his first name and so would he for me. Neither of us liked beating around the bush. It only made sense. We were close and it showed in our voices. That's how we grew up. Baji was short-lived, Keisuke sounds like mom when she scolds me, and Edward was stupid the same way Michael is and will always be. kei simply rolled off the tongue nicely.

i found solace in the way kei pronounced my given name—not some low-effort, jumbled, scrambled mess of hiragana that Mikey came up with to brand me like cattle. i chose to call him differently so i'd separate him from Mikey's possessions. Although i wasn't interested in seeing things beyond Mikey, i unconsciously tried to pull away from him by pulling into kei. Sometimes, it felt more like kei was trying to pull Mikey off my shoulders. There was always so much pulling, so much burning at the seams, but never any pushing. All he wanted was for me to wake up and realize, not startle me.

Because that's what kei always has been. His ripped shirts and his stylish choker. The slouch of his shoulders and the sparkle in his eyes. The sound of his loud voice, gruff and too deep for a kid my age, calling out from his bike so i'd hop on faster. Peppy and cheerful, with a big grin and an equally big heart, far too stupid and far too smart for his own good. Careful, watchful, a little too much in the know, and much too little into asking for help.

He knew i could bleed and that i'd give everything up for Mikey to live his life and that i was always ready to die. That's really all that kei's always been; standing tall, but looking small, like a mischievous little thing grabbing me by the wrist and dragging me along. Like he knew no matter how much he pulled, i'd always choose Mikey in the end. For worse, never for better. Like it's fine. For better, never for worse.

Another Toman meeting tonight, with the day growing late and the full moon rising in the sky. It's one of those nights, rare but not impossible, where Mikey is here earlier than me. i cross the torii gates on my own and the silence seems so loud. i'm not really used to things being quiet around me. i've always been surrounded by boisterous people. We're delinquents.

And kei takes pride in that; in his glimmering grin and his extreme volume. "Slow down, will ya?!" comes his distinctive voice from behind me. He calls my name with glee. 

i stop without so much as taking another step away from him. It's not only his voice, but also knowing there's no one else but kei to use my given name with care. i wait for him to catch up to me, smiling at him climbing the stairs. "kei, hey."

His hands are attacking my hair before i can duck away. "I told you I'd pick you up. Why didn't you wait for me, dumbass?" Laughter bounces off his every sentence. We take a small break from all this shallow back-and-forth between Toman and our friendship. i exist outside of my chains. i exist with kei.

His assault on my scalp is relentless even after i swat my palms at his face. i scratch his cheek, hissing, "And i told you i have my own bike, dude."

"Then we going for a ride after this?"

"i'm more up for a race, how 'bout that?" i playfully knock my shoulder into his.

Where kei usually knocks me back, tonight he chooses to freeze on his tracks. i look back and down at him, finding his eyes gawking at me in disbelief. i raise a brow as he says, "You're actually free later?" Then i frown. i'm sure, i'm so sure i'll forever remember him and his words, trying to pull me back.

"Yeah?"

"What about Mikey?"

What about Mikey? It's my own naïveté the one that doesn't let me understand. "i… i don't know?" But i'll know soon enough. And kei won't be there for me to hide behind.

"Huh." It's short and he brushes it off his face before he lets on too much. He's always been one to take everything on his back. As if nothing else he'll ever hear could throw him off, kei resumes walking, shrugging his shoulders carefreely. "Since you're always following him, I thought, you know…" he trails off, like he sometimes realizes he actually doesn't know much at all. 

i blink a few times to reorient myself. He's already climbing up the stairs in silence ahead of me. Although kei knows me, it seems my choices still elude him. It seems my choices elude me myself. i can't find the words to tell him that even if he's not Manjiro, i still love him to bits. If i can't explain it now, i'll be left all alone. But i don't say anything. i don't know if i can say anything. i hurry to catch up to him.

When he finds me heavy by his side again, kei snickers to himself, "Then I'll beat your ass." My name dances with the sound of his laughter. With the full moon hanging in the sky and shining in his pockets, he flashes me one of his boyish grins. i giggle for a moment before falling quiet in my thoughts once more.

What about Mikey?

i hear the door open and close behind me. kei's necklace makes its way back into my pocket, away from cold, prying eyes that might accuse me of abandonment. Not that i would ever leave Manjiro, but he sees the puzzle pieces in my hands and makes up his own image. He calls that nickname he gifted me, the one written with syllables out of order and chaos in his head.

i turn towards him to find him idly standing by the door. Speaking of silence, i guess it's because of him i've had to grown used to it. With my friends all gone, the loud and boisterous ones that would never shut up—like kei, of course—this quietude has become the norm. Maybe i've always liked silence and peace, but i didn't know any better until now.

"I'm hungry," is all Mikey says.

His eyes find mine. i'm getting tired of everything i'm supposed to call mine. All my friends and my allies and even Mikey. Dark gaze and long hair—like kei, but he's not kei, and kei will eternally remain in my sight, grinning forever, unfading. My friend. i'm sick of trying to find a single thought that will make sense. i sigh, because the choices i've made force me to reach my hands out to Mikey.

It's vague, but i brush his hair off his face, suggesting, "Take-out soba?" i don't dare specify and let him know i've been thinking a little too much.

"I just want dessert."

"Okay."

i have to hold my stare for a little longer than i actually should. Manjiro blurs in and out of sight the more i look at him. He's curiously staring back, probably wondering why i'm taking so long to order ice-cream for the both of us. Of course. i pull my hands away, searching in my pockets for my phone. All i find is a cross pendant. i'm still hungry for yakisoba.

That's the thing—that's always been the thing. Things i didn't want to see or i simply couldn't pay attention to because i was too busy making sure Mikey wouldn't derail. Things kei tried to pry off my back so many times by making me hitch rides i didn't need. Where Mikey unknowingly—or knowingly?—forces me to loosen my grip on my own identity, kei comes to help me wrap my fingers and close my fists tight around it again. It's an offer and it's never imposed; i have my choices when it comes to kei.

And it's fine, because i choose to go back to Manjiro every time. So i order ice-cream and take-out yakisoba.

i stand nearly in shock next to Toman's president. kei came, disrupted the meeting, socked Takemichi, and left while declaring himself an enemy to us—to me. He's leaving. Right now, as Kisaki fixes his glasses to also punch Takemichi, kei is leaving. Right now, as Takashi grumbles to himself, kei is leaving. Right now, as Manjiro does nothing but sulk, kei is leaving.

He's leaving. He's gone.

i stare and stare and stare at the empty spot beside Chifuyu. Right now, as i don't move a single muscle, kei is leaving. It feels like an eternity later when i finally snap out of my own pity party. Mikey's fingers barely brush my wrist in a futile attempt to keep me in place. kei's already left, he doesn't want another one of his friends to abandon him for the enemy. He knows better than that.

i would never leave him. kei would never leave him.

(kei, right now, is leaving.)

i would never betray him. kei would never betray him.

(kei was there when Shin was killed.)

My feet are almost floating down the stairs, skipping steps and struggling not to stumble stupidly until i crash at the torii gates. kei comes into sight, a few feet before crossing back onto the mundane without me. He throws a glance over his shoulder when he hears me catching my breath behind him. It's between choking gasps for air that i manage to call out to him, "kei." Is it in admiration or in friendship or in disdain? It's in my voice. "Why are you doing this?" It's in fear.

"Hah?" he drawls. He turns to face me fully. The moon blooms in his smirk. "I'm bored of playing kids' games."

i take a step closer. "Dude, don't lie to me." Kids' games is all we've been playing—kids' games is all we know how to play. i'll let him lie to anyone else. i don't care if he's a liar or a cheater or a fraud, as long as he doesn't lie to me.

"Since when do you care about anything that isn't Mikey?"

"i don't." It makes me wonder how any of this manages to get under my skin. i don't think i could handle this ending for me to begin. Where do i begin?

"Then fuck off," kei snarls like he hates me, like i'm stupid, "I don't have time for a lap dog like you." The insult doesn't hurt because it's true—even if it really, really is true—it hurts because he's lying to me. It hurts because i keep ignoring all the signs to turn myself around. It hurts because kei is right in front of me, offering me a helping hand for the umpteenth time since we met as kids.

i look at it. It's not there, but i look at it. There's blood on his palm from the other two times i've seen him die. i hesitate when i brush my fingers against his. "kei, how are you doing this?" i force eye contact on him. He questions me loudly. He's a little too smart and a little too stupid. "How can you just turn your back on him? How do i do that?"

"You're lost." There it is; my name, myself, my own person.

i tightly grasp his hand and my righteous identity. Away from the Sanos and their chains. Away from the intoxicating charm that sinks me deeper and deeper into this hole. "Take me with you." i hold onto the ghost of kei's hand and try wiggling myself out of Manjiro's grip.

It flashes across his eyes for a brief moment, because finally, finally all his individual efforts to rip my voice from inside of me and set me free are paying off. All i need to do is let go of Mikey. All kei needs to do is snatch my hand. i see his feet stutter in their own steps and how his fingers twitch by his side and how he's psyching himself up to reach out for me.

And i shrink back. i choose Manjiro again. "No, you're right," i sigh, laughing to myself like i'm not cutting down all the warning signs kei's been leaving for me, "That'll just cause more problems." Now i'll never get to him—not past the torii gates and certainly not past death. "Take care of Tora for me."

kei scans me up and down one last time. i don't know if it's pity, resentment, or even anger the emotion shining in his gaze. He turns his back on me with a single scoff that he has to force out of his throat. Of course i trust him to tear all of my stitches off one by one, of course i trust him to remove this weight off my shoulders. It's Mikey the one i don't trust.

It's fine, really. Even if i didn't have the words back then, kei will forever be here by my side. In spirit and in heart and leaning against the backrest of his Goki. If it has to be like this, i think it's fine. i'll never know more than this and i'll live with it. How differently would things have turned out if i had followed kei out of the shrine? Would Mikey's grip on me have worsened? Or would it have vanished completely? His stance on traitors has never been clear, especially when he ticks back and forth like a metronome with a distorted tempo. Hypotheticals are useless. i can hide behind kei all i want for the rest of my life, but i can't run away from Manjiro.

kei's not here anymore for me to find solace in, though. He hasn't been here for the past two years. It's not like he's gone forever, of course—after all, death is only temporary, so i'm sure at some point, he's bound to come back. He's come back every time. He'll extend his hand out to me and drag me along again in typical kei fashion. He'll make an effort to not have me sink and i'll listen this time. i will listen. i swear i will. He'll let me know when it's all said and done, give me a ride home, raid my fridge even. 

It's alright, it's okay, it's fine. i've known it all along. In the middle of fighting, in the middle of a kids' game, things take a turn for the worse and steal the glow of the moon from kei's smile. Things don't make sense. Next to Mikey, it's all chaos, but i'm not next to Mikey in this junkyard, because he's too busy wanting to kill Tora. i fight my own fight against Valhalla members, and i figure that's the difference between me and Manjiro. i don't want to fight my friends; i don't want to fight Tora; i don't want to fight kei.

Breaking Tora won't do any of us any good. It won't bring Shin back, it will put murder in Mikey's hands, and we'll be losing a friend we only just managed to get back. We're here to get kei back, not to push Tora farther away. i watch it all happen, gasping for air and choking on my own bloodied nose. kei collapses, someone—Takemichi? Or is it Chifuyu?—mentions a stab wound, there's blood but it's not inside kei, and Manjiro.

Murder. Murder. Murder. Murder. i've seen this already. Manjiro's killed Tora twice before. kei. kei has died twice before, in timelines Takemichi didn't know about yet. Mikey is bashing Tora's face in with just one of his fists. Honestly, it doesn't really matter. Whatever happens here, Mikey will become a murderer anyway two years from now when he doesn't bother holding back against South.

But kei. Will kei come back?

i mean, of course he will. It's kei, after all. kei knows his weaknesses and his strengths; kei knows death can't be permanent, especially not for him. He'll come back, because he's Baji Keisuke—because he's kei. And i wish i could blame him and tell him he's wrong when he chooses Tora over himself and over Chifuyu and over everyone and over me. He chooses Tora the same way i'm always choosing Mikey, so i should have seen this coming. But he's wrong. But it's his choice. But he's kei, and kei doesn't die—not forever, at least.

i'm far away and on my own and silent as i watch him die. i'm far away but i can hear the way he says my name and how awfully dissonant it rings next to Mikey's when he lists all of our friends. He swears, right there, on his deathbed, that we're all his treasure and he wanted to protect us. He won't always be there for me to hide behind, will he? He wanted to protect me. He—He wanted to—kei wanted to. He wanted to. kei really wanted to.

kei. kei is dead, isn't he?

He died in Chifuyu's arms. The last word out of his mouth was a name and it was not mine. He died. kei died. kei is dead. kei's not here anymore, he's all but the ghost in the back of my head, playing, "Chifuyu's unhinged!" so i can hear him laugh again. Although i've convinced myself it's fine, i'm starting to think it's not. Maybe, just maybe.

i look at Manjiro.

It's not fine.

—あごす (agosu) • 2022

[deus-and-the-machina]

MCYT Yuri week day 2 - post canon

This is technically post canon for double life but it takes place on the hermitcraft S9 server. for @mcyt-yuri-week

Once again, you can find it on ao3! If you like it, please go give it a kudos or comment!

“Boo.”

With a garbled noise of confusion, Pearl spun around just in time to see an invisibility spell wear off, particles floating away to reveal Cleo. Squatting there, they eyed up Pearl with an amused grin. Being pranked on the Hermitcraft server was fairly normal, being snuck up on even more tame, but Pearl still felt uneasy. This was a royal advisor approaching her, a notorious enemy of the crown.

And more vitally, the third game had just ended a week ago.

What’s more, Cleo was holding what seemed to be a fairly innocuous stick, running two fingers up and down the bark and looking as if she was inspecting it. To Pearl though, it seemed she wanted to be asked about it.

“...What is this about?”

A half cocked smile spread onto her face as she stood up, towering over Pearl by a head and a half. Her snakes rippled as she moved, swaying their bodies in wavy motions. They almost looked like tongues of flame. Cleo reached out, stick in one hand, and lightly tapped Pearl on the shoulder. 

“Dare stick.”

Pearl glanced down. “Ah. I’ve heard about that.” Neither of them said anything for a moment. Cleo put her hand on her hip.

“More importantly,” she said. “I have an offer.”

“What makes you think I’d want anything from you?” It came out more bitter than she’d intended, but then again she supposed there was still a reason to be suspicious beyond past grudges. Still, Cleo was honest more often than not and likely wasn’t taking Ren’s nonsense very well the longer it dragged on. They’d made a powerful ally for the resistance if offered.

But still Pearl frowned.

Cleo just shrugged. “Look, I’ll tell you what you need to know if you can just hurry up the whole resistance thing. It was a fun bit at first, but Ren just really seems determined to be a royal pain in the–y’know. And,” she looked around conspiratorially. “He’s not even paying us.”

Pearl decided to look like she was considering it. She fiddled with one of her tools, a trusty netherite pickaxe, flipping it back and forth in her hands. “...But what’s the dare though? Are you daring me to kill the king?” 

“Mayhaps! I haven’t really decided yet.” Cleo had turned their head away from her, giving her snakes some attention. One of them let out a low hiss as she scratched under its chin. Pearl clenched her teeth.

…No. No this wasn’t the time or place to get angry. “So,” she began. “What’s the contingency plan to make sure you don’t turn on us? I’d need that much at least.”

“Ah, of course, of course.” Several of the snakes sounded like they were laughing now, their eyes flashing purple. Pearl decided she liked Cleo better before she’d been touched by the end. Less unsettling. Cleo in the games had just been a woman. A dead woman, extra dead too once Pearl had seen to it. But certainly slightly less uncanny than…this.

Cleo looked her straight in the eye. “My contingency, as you call it, is that you know me well enough to know I’m more tired of this than I am loyal to Ren. Or at least I like to think you’d know me well enough.”

The two said nothing for a moment. Then, Pearl huffed a quiet laugh. She grasped her pickaxe in one hand and weighed it.

Then, she snapped forward and hooked the blade on one of Cleo’s exposed ribs.

The snakes rippled wildly, some unhinging their jaws and arching upwards, snapping at the air. Cleo, for her part, stared down calmly at Pearl.

Pearl knew that she probably looked half wild right about now. She hadn’t shaken off the cold of the wilderness yet. Maybe she never would. She tugged slightly on the rib and Cleo exhaled.

“I know that killing you in this world means nothing,” Pearl muttered through gritted teeth. “I got my fill, to be clear. I’m content with my due. I just want you to–” She cut herself off, trying to find the words to express what she was trying to say. “To not do this. Don’t torment me like this.”

“Oh? And what would ‘this’ be?” Cleo wasn’t smiling, but still looked vaguely amused in the way a smug cat would.

“The way you carry yourself. Like you think you bother me. Like you can just walk around and taunt me. Well you can’t, Cleo. I’ve forgiven you. I’ve forgiven you! It’s over!” She shoved her face near Cleo’s as she spoke, feeling herself getting more worked up.

Cleo looked her up and down. “You forgive me, eh? Prove it.”

Pearl growled. She seized the top lining of Cleo’s dress and yanked them forward, leaving the pickaxe to dangle on their rib for a moment, before tumbling to the ground. She bit their bottom lip.

It was a mashing together and a bite all in one. Pearl didn’t even try to start it off kindly. If Miss Zombie Cleo could still bleed, she’d be tasting copper right about now.

Cleo just made a pleased hum as Pearl made a valiant attempt to devour her. Her lips were always so clammy. “I hate you,” she whispered. “I hate you, I hate you.” 

She felt their smile grow against her mouth. “That’s more like it.” She pressed back into the warmth of Pearl’s mouth. A rough texture moved across her face, making Pearl’s face flush as they trailed across the sensitive skin of her cheeks. Cleo’s snakes, not too long ago having been viscous and spitting, were nuzzling at her face. 

Pearl drew back to choke out a gasp, suddenly overwhelmed. She quickly dove back in, lapping at the bites she’d left, prodding her tongue against Cleo’s lips. They parted their lips slightly, only to suddenly close them again. Frustration grew in her chest, but Cleo bringing her hand up to the corner of her jaw, holding it firmly and stroking the spot between head and neck, well that helped a good bit. 

Suddenly, Pearl realized her hands were still gripping the top of Cleo’s dress. She shifted them up to her shoulders, kneading the skin beneath them. The stitches were such tempting spots. They were so deep in there, woven in with uncanny kinds of spells, but she still wanted to try her hand picking at them to see if she could make Cleo bleed.

“Don’t you want to hurt me?” Cleo murmured against her. “You said it yourself, killing me won’t matter much in this world. You could do whatever you wanted and suffer no consequences.”

“So you can turn to His Majesty and tell him I accosted a member of the court? I don’t think so.” Pearl shifted down to mouth at her jugular, lightly grazing her teeth over the skin. 

With a noise of satisfaction, Cleo wrapped her hands around the back of her head, tangling her hands in her hair and drew her in closer. “Aww. I wouldn’t do that to you, sweetie. This is too fun.” 

Pearl’s eyes turned upwards, giggling menacingly. The manic energy of the moment and taste of rotten flesh on her tongue had begun to overwhelm her. “I’ll take a nibble out of your throat if you keep that up.”

Chuckling, Cleo’s grip on her hair tightened. “You don’t say…”

Pearl just grinned against her throat. This woman she hated oh so much. 

[paganwitchisis]

The Price of Freedom Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Intimacy and Confessions

Rated E for EXPLICIT!!

Word count: 3,752

Warnings for whole story: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT! Abuse, torture, smut, oral sex, rape, healing, beatings, dismemberment, breeding kink, act 3 spoilers, canon divergence, blood, violence, graphic depictions (It is Cazador after all)

Previous chapter - here

You're on chapter 4

Next chapter - here

AO3 link is here!

RATED 18 PLUS

“Well, you know the saying? Don’t look a gift mimic in the mouth!….Or… something like that…”

Astarion chuckled “Horse…mimic….what’s the difference? They both bite.”

Tav looked at him confused, but Astarion just dismissed his correction of her phrase. For a few more hours, Astarion and Tav spoke on things that were now necessary, as well as informing her what he told Karlach and Shadowheart in regards to the limiter that Cazador put into his spawn. This seemed to enrage the woman.

“When we get back, I know you have qualms about Gale for…other reasons, but can he see if he can remove this limiter? If we can make you stronger, it may help us to get the last Netherstone.” Tav purposely avoided mentioning the upcoming fight with Cazador. Her and Astarion had been fighting as of late over what to do with the Rite of Profane Ascension. Astarion was using fear to push him into thinking he needed to making a choice in seizing the power, but Tav, fearful for another reason, objected. She was afraid of what would happen to the sweet man sharing the bedroll with her right now. She never did like the idea of making deals with any devil or entity, and this would also irk her because that was what this rite was. It was a deal. Sacrifice souls just to gain power? Sounds like a recipe waiting to go wrong. What if Astarion lost his soul? She never spoke that fear out loud.

“Tch….fine” Astarion obviously disapproved of having Gale work magic on him and try to ‘fix’ him, but with a child on the way, he wasn’t going to squander any chance he got to gain an edge over anyone who would hurt his family. “Now, we really should talk about this baby. With the new addition, we’re going to have to watch it with the fighting. I know you’re our fighter, but if we have Karlach or Lae’zel with us, you won’t need to be in the crossfire so much. I’ll have your back, of course, and then you can throw a spell caster if you like, or…whomever in, but I would really appreciate my ma…um…lover and our child were safe. We’re near the end, I can’t…I won’t let anything happen to you.” Tav looped her arms around the pale elf’s neck and brought him closer. She kissed his jawline and asked something she was wondering before tackling the potential argument about her and fighting.

“You were going to call me mate, weren't you? Like what the other guy called me. Why? What does that mean, exactly?” Tav brought her hand up to Astarion’s face and rubbed the soft pad of her thumb over his cheek bone. Astarion shifted his eyes to look anywhere but her when he began to answer.

“It’s silly.”

Tav moved her arms so that she was hugging the pale elf and squeezed him lightly, urging him to continue. Astarion held her back, burying his face in the crook of her neck. He raised his head slightly to speak to her ear. “It was…suggested among the spawn that vampires only have one real mate. One real person out there who was meant just for you. Like a soulmate, I suppose. Of course, like most things, Cazador overheard or knew of our discussion. He was rarely as unhinged as that day. From what I could gather, something happened with his master regarding that subject back when he was a spawn, and because of that, all talk of mates or believing we would ever find love was stricken. Cazador tortured us for a good decade for that transgression. He would only force potions on us to lure back our victims. Sometimes I still feel like I have phantom pains of left over glass in my skin or…Well…You know what he is like.”

Tav held him tighter and drew her leg up and over his before she replied. “Do you think I’m your mate?”

Astarion pulled back to finally look her in the eyes and pushed his lips against hers hard. Their mouths moved in perfect sync as they deepened the kiss. Of course Astarion pulled away, aware of her fragile state before his kiss would deprive her of oxygen. Astarion spoke against her lips once he pulled away.

“You’re my everything, so how could you not be my mate? I…I never even acknowledged that term until the other vampire mentioned it. I…I wasn’t sure if it was something real…if the word and term were real until then. Does it bother you if I call you that? Or that I feel that way?”

Tav shook her head no immediately before bringing her body flush to his. Astarion held her tighter and kissed her neck, her cheek and finally her lips again.

“I’d love to be your mate, Astarion, but you can only call me it if I can reciprocate and call you it back. For so long we weren't exactly sure where we stood. With the baby…it will be nice to call you that. If you feel comfortable with me calling you my mate back, I mean. I’m not a vampire but…”  

Astarion took her lips again as he considered how bruised he would leave her lush mouth. Astarion whispered against her lips his reply since he cut her off.

“I am forever grateful your heart beats, my love, but to answer your question? Please. Please call me your mate.” Astarion barely got the words out before he set his lips back on his mate’s. Tav couldn’t help the low moan that slipped out which earned Shadowheart’s ire.

“Don’t make me create water over you both…cold water.” Shadowheart threatened.

Astarion smirked and brought his arms around his mate snugly. “Hear that, darling? We may have to conserve body heat if Shadowheart makes good on her threat.” Astarion taunted with a lewd grin, eliciting mirthful giggles from Tav. This made Astarion give off a genuine smile of his own. Astarion reached over to his bag and grabbed his waterskin as he held it out to his mate who greedily devoured the clear liquid. Astarion figured she would need some considering how often he shared her lips and her current injuries.

“You know, I have no qualms about fighting smarter, but I won’t remove myself from fighting, by the way. I also won’t pull back to the back line just because I’m pregnant now. This may be your child, but it is still my body and decision. I’m willing to compromise though. Maybe I’ll pull back to the middle instead of the front lines if we use Karlach as the meat-shield.” Tav whispered to a frowning vampire.

“I heard that! You better be behind me with my niece or nephew on board!” Karlach yelled from her bed roll on the other side of the room. How she heard was anyone’s guess. Astarion still chuckled nonetheless at Tav’s groan of frustration when it seemed others were against her being near the front lines again.

“As long as you’re safe…both of you. That is all I care about, darling.” Astarion muttered against her lips and held her close, his hands resting on her backside as he pressed her flush against his body. Tav stifled another moan or they would suffer Shadowheart’s irritation once more.

That night, the couple didn’t really talk much about the baby, or the threat that it posed to her health by existing.  Astarion worried about all of this, of course, but this was a conversation best left for the comforts of privacy.  Astarion and Tav merely cuddled and held each other that night, frequently Astarion held Tav to his chest. Her back to his his front and he held her snugly while whispering sweet nothings in her ear as she drifted to sleep. Astarion went into his trance shortly after as he clutched her to him tightly. His last thoughts before falling into his trance was how much she mattered to him and dare he say, possibly love her, but he wasn’t ready to have that conversation yet. He was getting closer day after day, especially after this revelation, but he still wasn’t sure what love was. One day he thought he would know and could tell her, as he was fairly certain she had claimed his undead heart, but not yet…soon.

About four hours later, Astarion awoke from his trance to see his mate sleeping peacefully in his arms. Astarion smiled and watched her turn and snuggle into him some more. He wrapped an arm around her, and for the next few hours, thought about being a father and what that meant to him. He thought about the future and what he could do after the fall of the Absolute to provide for his child. He knew that they were butting heads as of late about the Rite of Profane Ascension, but if he could steal Cazador’s work and walk in the sun…imagine the future he could gift his heir? On the flip side, if he was constrain to the shadows again, if he was just a spawn and powerless. What kind of example would that set, and how could he protect his family with meager strength? He knew she would disagree, but Astarion was afraid. He was afraid of a future where he couldn’t provide for his family, or a future where he couldn’t protect them.

“I love you, Astarion.” Tav whispered in her sleep and snuggled into Astarion’s chest all the more tightly. Astarion may have never known what a home felt like, but this felt like it to him and no matter what may come, he would do anything to protect it. The future still wasn’t set and he still respected his mate’s opinion but if Cazador ever got wind of her and what she carried, let alone her impact to him…No. He refused to think of a future without her. A future where his old master would sink his claws into all he cared for. Hells, he almost lost them today. He couldn’t get the memories and the feeling of her life essence hitting the palm of his hand as it struggled to escape her throat and out of his hands. Astarion was distressed, and in the early morning hours, merely half an hour or so before the rising of the sun, Astarion felt the intense need for privacy with his love. The need to seek comfort with her and remind himself of her life and her beating heart. Astarion knew she needed sleep, so instead he rested his head on her chest so her strong and consistent heartbeat could lull him to a better sense of calm than what he was currently experiencing.   

“What’s wrong, love?” Astarion heard in his head and realized Tav was speaking to him with the help of the tadpole. Her eyes were open and she gazed at him lovingly, a small smile on her lips as she drew close and kissed his cheek when he rose his head to look at her. Her kiss was too much and not enough all at once. His chest was tight and a sob almost escaped him as the dam almost broke through of his emotions. Astarion leaned forward and although gentle because of her injuries, he took her mouth quickly and caged himself over her. Thankfully, Shadowheart and Karlach had long been asleep, so he didn’t have to worry about disapproving glances.

Astarion couldn’t help the very low moan escape him as his tongue entered her mouth nor his hips slowly rocking against hers. He smiled into his kiss to find her pushing back into his hips and kissing back as hard if not harder, her leg then coming out to hook around his waist. Astarion pulled his lips back to kiss her jaw line while he communicated via the tadpole.

“We need to stop, my sweet. The others….although normally I wouldn’t care…I…your noises and body are mine. I don’t feel like sharing.”

Tav knew better, of course, she knew for a bit that something was bothering him, but she dared not call him out on it.

“Let’s go to the other room.” Tav suggested via the tadpole. No sooner had she suggested it did strong arms encircle her waist, and with his rogue-like skills, quietly left the room with her as she wrapped her legs around his waist. The door was closed behind them and Astarion put her down gently before he pushed a table against the doors for privacy. Thankfully the doors were near the table so he didn’t make much noise, so when they stilled for a moment after, there was no movement being heard on the other side of the door. Astarion closed the distance between the two and passionately took Tav’s lips again while his hands made quick work of her trousers before he pushed them down along with her undergarments. Tav moaned deeply but jumped when she felt dexterous fingers enter her and the man growl against her lips.

“You’re not wet enough, dear.” Astarion huskily said as he started to lay down.

“Well, I did just wake up…” Tav replied while Astarion gripped her hips and brought her closer to his face.

“Let’s fix this. Sit on my face. Let me taste you. You taste so damn good.” Astarion’s hard on was evident in his trousers as his hips gyrated occasionally. Tav was going to reply but whatever words she had died on her tongue when Astarion took a lap of his tongue using the flat side of it between her labia. He didn’t tease her like he usually did. Instead, he alternated between sucking and licking her clit, and after a few minutes, she found herself on her second orgasm. Astarion, thankful that he didn’t have to breathe, dove further and sunk into her cleft. He devoured her, using his nose to stimulate her clitoris while he drank her in.

Tav reached back and freed his cock from the tough confines of his leather trousers, earning a gasp of relief and pleasure from the elf between her legs, and a moan that vibrated against her flesh. Tav gripped his base and began to stroke him, but Astarion, eager for touch, began using the hand to jerk himself with his thrusting action. Although it was Tav’s hand stimulating him, he was the one jerking himself off, which of course didn’t take long to bring him close to his end. Astarion had to still his hips and pull his head away from his prize after her second orgasm or else he would threaten to spill his load before doing what he wished.

He wanted to still make love to her. Something he never did before. Something he felt he had to do. Something he needed to do to prove she still was alive and well below him…to show her everything he couldn’t say and to show how he felt about the gift she had given him that was nestled in her belly. Astarion quickly switched position and caged his mate below him before taking his cock in hand to line himself up with her wet and beautiful cunt.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this? You don’t have to do this if you aren't. I’m fine with waiting.“ Tav rationalized in case Astarion was pushing himself.

“I want this. I want you. Now, I will only say this once. It bothered me when I almost lost you both. It still does, so please let me feel how alive you are. Stop worrying and let me make love to you.”

Tav mouthed the word ‘love’ in shock before Astarion’s mouth was upon her and his cock has speared her in one quick motion. Tav’s eyes rolled back in her head and her vagina clenched around his cock. Astarion passionately kissed Tav deeply like he had been all night, his left hand held the small of her back and held her close as his hips rolled slowly. The slow roll of his hips ground himself deep into the soft spongy area Astarion was familiar with, the erogenous zone that he drove into when he would help her chase release, but in this case he wanted her to feel good rather than seek out another orgasm. Astarion pulled away from kissing the woman so she could breathe easier since she was still healing.

Tav moaned and Astarion brought his right hand up to her left breast through the clothing she still wore on her upper half. He played with the mass, his thumb over the nipple and massaged the breast with the entire hand. Tav looped her arms around Astarion’s neck and leaned forward to suck on his flesh, leaving an angry purple bruise of her own. This made Astarion chuckle.

”That’s right.” Astarion slammed his hips into her to accent this “I’m yours” This only made Tav moan louder and Astarion loved it. He loved feeling her alive and hearing her heartbeat speed up under him. He loved making her feel good but most of all, he loved that he was present. He did not disassociate during the act once. Astarion sped up a little so he wasn’t teasing his love.

Astarion stopped playing with both breasts at this point and instead he picked up both legs at the knee and began pounding into her at a faster and deeper speed. Astarion wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out and he wanted her to come before he did. Astarion dropped the top of his hand to her clit and circled it with the pad of his thumb. He could see her throwing her head back and forth. She was close.

“Bite me!”

“I can’t. You almost died! You need time to get your blood back.” Astarion upped the speed once more so he was pistoning his cock inside her. Astarion was in complete bliss but it took everything in him not to spill himself before she crested first.

In a blissful stupor, Astarion spilled something from his mouth he still was deliberating. Something he was sure of but was scared of. Something that although he was sure, he told himself a myriad of excuses as to why it can’t be true and so he needed more time. Essentially it boiled down to him being so drunk on sex that Astarion said something he never would during sex that he could not take back.

“I love you, Tav.”

Tav crested with this and threw her head back. Her body convulsed and contracted as Astarion felt the tissue surrounding his cock get tight and throb. It was like her body was pulling and drinking him in, begging for his spend so Astarion let go and gave her it. After two more thrusts he stilled for a moment and then slowly rode out the orgasm as his come coated her insides. The entire time he was present, he was aware and he felt everything. This was new to him. This was exhilarating and felt like nothing he ever did before. It was by far the best sex he’d ever had, too. Considering this was the first person and only person who chosen him regardless of his past and loved him. The only person who made love to him rather than fucking him and forgetting him? Astarion could see why this was so different and why they mattered so much. It was in this moment as he was coming down from his high that he remembered what he said.

Did he love her though?

Just looking at the tussle haired goddess in front of him who would give and had almost given her life for him, he knew the answer. She had given him a child. She had helped him in much more that that and soon, they were going to gain his freedom. Astarion chuckled. He may be slow on the uptake he thought to himself because he really did love her. He thought he needed time. He thought he needed a comparison. He thought he needed a great many things but he needed only her.

He loved her.     

Withdrawing his length from her and trying to not let his spend coat the floor much, Astarion laid down next to her and held her close. He kissed her deeply and she moaned into the kiss, bringing her hand up to his cheek and tracing his cheek bone with the pad of her thumb. A moment later he pulled back to let her speak.

“Not that I’m complaining, that felt really good, but what got into you? I thought you weren’t ready yet.”

Astarion just smiled. “It’s simple. I’m ready now. Between you being pregnant and what happened yesterday. I needed to feel you alive…”

“But…”

“I was present through it darling. I can make love to you.”

“So…because I was hurt you wanted to have sex?” Tav was confused still. “And what does being pregnant have to do with this?”

Astarion sighed and kissed Tav on the nose before answering the questions.

“I needed to feel you alive and well, and with the pregnancy? Something about you being pregnant makes me want to take you again and again. It’s like I have a basic need to fill you now that I know you’re carrying life. It doesn’t make sense, I know it doesn’t make sense, but that doesn’t stop me from getting hard at the thought of your swollen belly in a few months. I can’t keep my hands off you, my sweet.”

“If you are okay with it and it doesn’t bother you…then it doesn’t bother me. I enjoy being intimate with you but I am just as happy with waiting if you would rather wait too. You are what matter to me, not sex. You.” Tav kissed Astarion’s forehead at this who smiled.

“That’s why I love you so much. Even with all the hormones flooding your body, making you want and changing you to carry our baby, and yet you still put my…complications first.” Astarion whispered against her flesh as he kissed her cheek and nibbled her earlobe.

“You said that during sex, too. Do you mean it?” Tav asked, now propped up on her elbows.

[ithinkyouhealedmyheart]

Ghost Writer Ch. 6

Unbetad Unedited Unhinged || AO3

Character(s): Kendall Knight, James Diamond, Carlos Garcia, Logan Mitchell, Camille Roberts, Lucy Stone, Mrs. Knight, Katie Knight, Female Original Character(s)

Pairings: Kendall Knight/Female Original Character(s), James Diamond & Female Original Character(s), Kendall Knight & James Diamond & Carlos Garcia & Logan Mitchell, James Diamond/Lucy Stone, Logan Mitchell/Camille Roberts, Female Original Character/Female Original Character

Word count: 6084

Ronnie was glad Camille took her on an impromptu shopping spree. That morning, Kelly had informed her that Griffin would stop by to listen to the demo and evaluate her as a songwriter. And as such, she had to dress well. As much as she hated skirts, Griffin would surely be discomforted if she wore dress pants instead. She had to go without her sweatshirt. Even only for a little while, it still bothered her. She pulled at the sleeves of her dress shirt, worried they wouldn’t be enough to cover her skin. Her attire was out of her comfort zone, but she would grin and bear it if it impressed Griffin. Luckily, no one would notice she was wearing the earplugs Kelly had given her during her first day on the job, so that was comforting enough. 

Gustavo took one look at her and broke his stress ball. Out of nowhere, Kelly put another stress ball in his hands. Ronnie furrowed her brows and looked down. Was there a stain on her clothes? Did she need to remember to fix a button? 

“It’s fine. It’s fine.” Gustavo took a deep breath. He had a vice grip on the stress ball. “Maybe he won’t notice. Maybe he’ll like your hair.” The producer was hanging by a thread. 

Ronnie absentmindedly touched a strand of her hair. It was blue. What was so wrong with the color blue? She looked to Kelly for an answer, but the talent scout only shrugged and shook her head. 

“You look lovely, and everything is already set up. We just need to wait for–” 

The doors opened ominously. The producer, talent scout, and songwriter turned their heads to see the man of the hour had arrived. Arthur Griffin, CEO of RCM-CBT Globalnet Sanyoid. Ronnie had only heard about him. She didn’t know what to expect, but she knew she hadn’t expected him to look like someone’s grandfather. He looked far too kind to be the ruthless man Gustavo had chalked him up to be. 

“She’s young, I’ll give you that.” The smile didn’t reach his eyes. He crossed his hands in front of him and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with his bodyguards. 

Ronnie nearly threw up in her mouth. Something about that sentence sounded wrong and possibly a little violating. 

“Does she speak? Or will she stand there staring at me like a panic-stricken mouse?” His eyes flickered to Kelly, and she cleared her throat, giving the girl an anxious nudge. 

“Ver– Ronnie Clark, sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

“Ronnie?” Arthur quirked a brow, staring down at her as if inspecting a gemstone for its quality. He stepped forward, and she froze, his hand lightly touching her hair. He frowned. “She’s a bit eccentric from the looks of it, but other than that, she’s given a good image presentation.” He spoke as if she wasn’t in the room. 

Ronnie heard Gustavo let out a wheezy breath. Perhaps he was relieved that his boss approved of her. 

“Granted, my company could do without a shoddy dye job. Be sure to get her a professional stylist to prevent whatever is happening on her head.” Arthur gestured to Ronnie’s hair. 

The songwriter’s ears turned red, but she didn’t dare move. He stepped away, and she felt like she could breathe freely again. 

“Now,” Arthur clapped his hands together. “I was promised a song by our new writer.” The older man looked at her expectantly, but the words died in her throat. 

“Yes!” Kelly jumped in quickly to save the girl from embarrassment. We have everything set up!” The black woman turned on her heel to start playing the music, but Arthur raised his hand, stopping her. 

“I believe what I meant was that Miss Clark would do the honors of playing her new song.” 

Ronnie’s hands were shaking. She felt scrutinized under his gaze and was scared it would be lights out if she made any wrong move. There would be no second chance to rectify her mistake or try again. They would kick her to the curb as fast as she could say goodbye. 

“Right– Right away, sir.” Ronnie nodded vigorously as she turned on her heel. Her heart was pounding in her ears, and she started sweating profusely. Pulling on her collar, she looked down at the console. What was it that she needed to do again? 

Gustavo noticed her hesitation and quickly jumped in, distracting his boss so Kelly could help her with the console. He wouldn’t let an anxious teenager ruin his chances of being number one again, especially not when he had already made it this far with the dawgs. 

Ronnie’s fingers shook as she listened to Kelly’s whispered instructions, the talent scout glancing up every few seconds to ensure Arthur wasn’t paying attention. 

“I– I present to you, Paralyzed.” She stammered, giving a thumbs up to the boys in the studio as the music flooded the speakers. 

Arthur turned his attention away from Gustavo just in time, a satisfied smile on his face. He was an imposing, terrifying figure Ronnie hoped she wouldn’t have to deal with as much as Gustavo and Kelly did. The girl wrung her hands together as her heart pounded in her ribcage and traveled up to her ears. She wasn’t exactly prepared for this, and it wasn’t like Gustavo tried to prepare her to meet Griffin for the first time. She felt like a fish out of water even though the producer and his assistant were most likely freaking out as well. If the guys noticed, they didn’t make it seem like they noticed and carried on in blissful ignorance. 

While the boys were performing her demo, Gustavo anxiously chewed his nails beside her. Ronnie tried not to think about it too much because she didn’t want to throw up in front of the company's CEO and lose her job. Even if she was cursed to be reminded every time someone bit their nails, unfortunately, they could get pinworms. A shiver ran down her spine, and she tried to focus on the dancing guys. The dance moves were simple enough. 

Ronnie found herself looking at Kendall, and each time she looked away, it was as if her gaze would circulate back to the blonde. She had no idea what he could be thinking right now, but he was probably hoping that Griffin hated her music and would fire her. Or perhaps he was thinking about how this has to be perfect so they don’t witness Gustavo get yelled at by the very man who technically gives them their paycheck. For a moment, their eyes met, and he didn’t look at her with disdain or malice. Maybe he’d accepted that she was their songwriter and would most likely stick around. 

There was a tornado running rampant, throwing around thoughts and pieces of dialogue around her brain. Her mind was a jumbled mess. She gripped the edge of the console with white knuckles. Her future was relying on Arthur Griffin and his reaction to the song. Ronnie didn’t think it could get this nerve-wracking. To have to rely solely on someone you didn’t even know. Then, the door to the studio opened, and a girl roughly around her age walked in. Her loose curls bounced as she walked up to Arthur and slotted herself beside him. Ronnie turned slightly, alarmed by her presence. She wasn’t told that someone else would watch the band perform. 

This mystery girl wore a bright pink crop top and low-rise jeans. A big purse hung off her elbow where a small dog poked its head out. The little furball panted and swiveled its head curiously, sniffing the air. The girl glanced at Ronnie, giving her the side-eye as she pulled lipgloss from her purse and put it on. Her eyes were as blue as the ocean, and every fiber in Ronnie’s body was screaming at her to stop looking like an idiot. What she wore didn’t matter if she didn’t look comfortable or confident in it. Turning her head away, she tried to focus on the band. 

But then the music died down. The song had reached its end. Three minutes actually felt like an eternity.  

Ronnie turned to face the man who would seal her fate. She smiled sheepishly and clasped her hands together in front of her. She wished James had given her his fidget cube before they got there. Kelly stood shoulder to shoulder with her and gave her arm a good squeeze for reassurance, smiling as brightly as she was despite her cheeks hurting. Under Arthur’s gaze, Ronnie felt helpless. It's like a snail in the backyard being observed by an evil child five seconds after pouring salt all over it. Her music career could end before it started, and she would return to Stowe, Vermont, and continue her life as nobody important. Forced to blend into the crowd and forget her short-lived experience at the Palm Woods. Her dream would be crushed just as she was starting to believe it would come true. She stared at Arthur Griffin with helpless eyes, her smile wavering as her lips began to shake. 

Why wasn’t he saying anything? Was he adding dramatic effect? 

It caught everyone off guard when he turned to the girl who walked in late. She had enough time to see the tail end of the song. The blonde was frazzled and laughed awkwardly as she petted the dog in her purse. 

“Well, Mercedes?” Griffin put a hand on her shoulder. They must be related. He wouldn’t hire someone that young, would he? 

Mercedes met Ronnie’s gaze and tensed up. The blue-haired girl was hanging on to any word she would say with bated breath. It would be nice to have another girl around the recording studio if she were to drop by once again. The two of them could go out shopping and get lunch. Gossip about the latest things and obsess over the new teen actors. Mercedes liked the song. At least, the part she heard. It had an upbeat vibe, and the boys enjoyed dancing and singing. 

The girl looked up at Arthur, who nodded and smiled. His demeanor changed to a softer, kinder attitude. Mercedes and Griffin were related. 

“I like the song!” Mercedes chirped, smiling brightly as she petted her dog. 

All tension left Ronnie’s body, and she slumped over like a rag-doll. She was leaning as carefully as she could on the console behind her. It wasn’t time to rejoice because they hadn’t left the room. Griffin turned to Kelly with a satisfied look on his face. 

“You picked a wonderful songwriter. Tell me, where did you find her?” 

Ronnie was too focused on how relieved she was to care much about how Griffin talked about her as though she were an object. 

“Stowe, Vermont.” Kelly’s smile was tight as she shook his hand. 

“I don’t know what it is about these nothing towns, but they produce the best talent.” Griffin clicked his tongue. “You.” He then turned to Gustavo, and his smile fell off his face in the blink of an eye. “I expect you to treat her and teach her well.” The way he said it sounded more like a threat than it was, but either way, it made Gustavo anxious. 

“I’ll be happy to hear your next demo, Miss Clark.” Just like that, he smiled at Ronnie again. 

With a swift motion, Griffin turned on his heel, with bodyguards in tow, as he walked out of the recording studio. The chill in the air settled. Kelly and Gustavo exhaled, and the producer collapsed into his chair, holding a hand to his heart. 

“I want your number,” 

Ronnie screeched and jumped, accidentally hitting something on the console. Lucky for her, it was just the microphone broadcasting whatever they said to the boys. Mercedes stared at her with unblinking eyes, holding her phone out. She had one of those newer iPhone models. Of course, she did if she was related to Griffin. 

“'cause if you’re sticking around, then we have time to get to know one another.” Mercedes giggled behind her hand and smiled sheepishly, batting her long eyelashes. 

Ronnie hesitated, gently taking the girl's phone from her and putting her number into a new contact. Her face flushed. She was relieved that she got to stay in Los Angeles, but even better, she could stick around and write songs for Big Time Rush. The songwriter returned her phone, and Mercedes glanced at the name. 

“Well, aren’t you as cute as a blueberry! Ronnie, you’re my new best friend!” 

The blue-haired girl's eyes widened, and she looked to Gustavo to perhaps save her from this situation. He furrowed his brows and shook his head, arms crossed. He didn’t have enough power to make this go away. 

“I did love the song. Can’t wait to hear it on the radio!” Mercedes winked and bounced out of the studio, giving her dog thousands of kisses as she headed to the elevator. 

The microphone was still on. When the producer, his assistant, and their songwriter turned to tell them the good news, the guys were already cheering. Ronnie noticed the green light and quickly pressed it again, shutting the microphone off. As gently as he could, Gustavo shoved her to the side and turned on the microphone. 

“Hey! This isn’t the time to be celebrating!” He barked into the microphone angrily. “We have to develop more demos for your next album release!” 

The guys were frozen, staring wide-eyed and frightened at their producer. 

“Now, you can celebrate.” He sighed. 

The three of them turned their heads when the door opened. Logan, Carlos, and James came out of the room excitedly. Ronnie didn’t have enough time to react before the three of them squished her into a hug. Alarm bells rang in her head as she tried to wiggle her way out. She felt James stick his arm out and presumably drag Kendall into the group hug. The tips of her ears and the sides of her face flushed with embarrassing warmth as she tried to fight against the four boys who surrounded her. It was hard trying not to panic, but with their bodies pressed against hers, it was pretty hard to breathe. 

But they disconnected after a moment. Ronnie wobbled off balance from trying to fight to free herself. She took deep breaths as though she was gasping for air above water. For a moment, she noticed Kendall’s eyes soften. James stepped toward her, and she held her arm out and backed away from him. 

“Don’t– Don’t do that again.” She sounded as though she had coughed up water from her lungs. Her voice was raspy and shaking. 

“Okay, okay. Noted.” James held his hands up like he was interacting with a wild, cornered animal he found on the street. 

“It’s party time, people!” Carlos exclaimed, lifting his helmet in the air. Kelly had locked that away. How did he get it back? 

Carlos ran into the hall before anyone could gauge what he meant by that. His footsteps echoed against the floor noisily. 

“Don’t tell me you boys will throw a party at the Palm Woods.” Kelly looked to Kendall for the answer. There was a story behind how she said it, and Ronnie tilted her head slightly. It was probably a perfect story, but she doubted Kelly would want to divulge what happened. 

“No, no. Not a party-party.” Kendall shook his head. “Just… a pool party.” He had quite a charming smile, but it was too bad it was hidden behind his sour look. 

Ronnie could only assume they wouldn’t throw an actual party because they all had been invited to Lucy’s Halloween party and didn’t want to take her credit. There was another reason she was glad Camille took her shopping. It allowed her to buy a bathing suit and clothes that were far more appropriate to the weather of Los Angeles. 

Although she had lived at Palms Woods for about three days, Ronnie had never seen the pool. She saw the pool area but had yet to enter it. She wore a bathing suit, swim shorts, and a bikini top covered with her yellow sweatshirt. The guys wore board shorts and T-shirts. 

When he wasn’t wearing dark clothing and sulking around, Kendall was pretty attractive. Not that she was attracted to him. Being attracted to him would be equivalent to an office romance, which would not end well for either. Well, maybe it would end well for him because he’d come out of it with fame and fortune, while she would probably be reduced to nothing. Once she realized she was writing that down in her notebook instead of new song lyrics, she shook her head and scratched it out with her pen. Her beach towel sat folded at the end of the lounge chair. Instead of lounging on it, she scrunched herself up. 

“Whatcha writing?” Carlos leaned over excitedly, pulling his sunglasses up to read the words better. He could only get a few words before Ronnie panicked and tucked it against her chest. 

“Is it new song lyrics? Can you please give us a hint about the new song?” He was like an excitable toddler. His big round eyes were pleading, and for extra effect, her stuck his bottom lip out. 

“It’s not song lyrics.” She turned to a new page in her notebook. She needed one of those covers that people put things into. It's not a laptop cover, but it's something else. Unfortunately, she couldn’t think of the word. 

“Then what is it?” Logan leaned forward, intrigued by their conversation. Any chance to get to know their songwriter better was a chance he was going to take. 

“It’s nothing. Not important.” She waved away the question, shrinking into her hoodie like an embarrassed little girl. Well, she was an embarrassed girl. 

“Come on, we won’t judge.” However, Carlos’ words were sincere. What she wrote honestly wasn’t important. It was something mindless that she could have filtered before deciding to write it down. But she didn’t consciously decide to write it down. Something in her subconscious put her pen to paper and scrawled the words as she thought of them. 

Ronnie wasn’t actually attracted to Kendall. She just met him, and he didn’t care much for her. 

“Yeah, it can’t be that embarrassing.” Logan, egged on by Carlos’ curiosity, was helping his friend push the girl for answers. 

“It was a random ramble.” Ronnie rolled her eyes. She hoped that would be enough to satisfy their teenage curiosity. 

“Yeah, but what was it about?” Carlos pleaded. She was wrong. 

“Nothing. Now, mind your business.” Ronnie huffed and shrunk into her sweatshirt even more. The collar of her hoodie covers the bottom half of her face. She tucked her arms tight under her armpits and tapped the pen against the back of her notebook. It was a purple pen with stars and glitter all over it. 

“Hey, Lucy!” Ronnie picked her head up and turned when she heard James.

The girl with red streaks in her hair gave him a strange look as he waved her over from where she was by the lobby. She quickly noticed Ronnie, Logan, and Carlos; her expression changed. Without her previous hesitation, she made her way over to the lounge chairs.  Unfortunately for James, she ignored him. Lucy brushed past him nonchalantly and planted between Ronnie, Logan, and Carlos. 

“I don’t know what kind of music you like, but you strike me as a rocker girl.” Lucy grinned down at her, holding a CD between her fingers. Something was scrawled across the silver in Sharpie. “So, I took it upon myself to mix my favorite rock songs!” 

“How come she gets a gift?” James whined in the background, pouting like a four-year-old. 

Ronnie stared at the CD, stunned. 

“Go on, you can take it. I ain’t gonna bite.” Lucy nodded and chuckled. 

The CD cover was smooth and cold, and the hard plastic in her hands was relatively thin and flimsy. Ronnie’s fingers accidentally pressed the front of the cover down on the silver CD inside its holding case. She turned it over to read what was written in messy Sharpie. Her name was displayed across the top of the CD in big, bold letters. At the bottom was the word "mixtape."

“Figured I should share some music with you. From one songwriter to another,” Lucy playfully winked. 

“How did you–” Ronnie breathed, looking down at her gift from her new friend. She was slightly embarrassed that she didn’t get anything for Lucy. 

“Camille told me, and she also gave me the idea.” Lucy tucked hair behind her ear. “Not that I didn’t want to get you anything, I–” she sighed and shook her head. “It’s a welcoming present.” 

For the first time since she met them, the guys were silent. Ronnie turned the CD over in her hands. Her brain had short-circuited. She didn’t know what to say. 

“Plus, I think it's good to have some girlfriends to balance out the teenage boy energy.” Lucy smoothed her palms over her ripped jeans. “You could join me and Camille,” she offered crookedly. 

Ronnie followed Lucy to the dark blue cabana by the pool without thinking much about the answer. Camille, the dark-haired girl with the beauty mark, looked through what Ronnie could only assume was a script for another audition. 

“She agreed to disconnect herself from the guys,” Lucy chuckled as she sat down and kicked her feet on the white table. 

“You know, you could have just asked me to hang out with you.” Ronnie sat with her back facing the pool. 

“Yeah, well, Lucy needed to give you her welcoming gift, and I thought, why not kill two birds with one stone? I also have yet to get your phone number.” Camille looked over her shoulder. She was watching someone intently behind Ronnie. 

The songwriter felt around for her phone. It wasn’t in her sweatshirt pocket. Eyes wide, she turned around. It wasn’t on the table near the lounge chair she was at with the guys. Did she leave it in her apartment? Lucy noticed her alarm and pulled her phone out nonchalantly. 

“Oh, hey, Camille. I never got your phone number.” 

“Really? I swore I gave it to you.” Camille slid her phone over. 

They both had each other’s phone numbers, but while she had Camille’s phone, the rocker girl punched in Ronnie’s number for her. She glanced up and winked at the blue-haired girl as if to say: don’t worry. I got you. This put her at ease. Lucy slid Camille’s phone back, and the dark-haired girl's face lit up. 

“When did you put your number in my phone? It’s like you have lightning-fast fingers!” Camille chuckled. “I can put us in a group chat. We can talk about all sorts of things, like boys!” 

Lucy and Ronnie exchanged uneasy glances. Ronnie was a little confused and curious about who Camille liked, but she kept her mouth shut. The less she learned, the better. Then again, she barely knew anyone, so that it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. 

“She likes Logan,” Lucy whispered, hand cupped around her mouth. 

“I’ve kissed him billions of times, and he hasn’t said anything or made a move!” Camille pouted and slumped over, leaning her chin on the table. 

“Tyler did say you were a method actor. Maybe he doesn’t get it.” Lucy shrugged and pocketed her phone. “But, if we’re being honest. The four of them are big-time dorks.” 

Ronnie couldn’t agree more. Then again, they are teenage boys who are pretty stupid sometimes. A thought bubble popped in the front of her mind. 

“What happened between Kendall and Jo?” It was an impulse. 

Lucy stopped cleaning the dirt under her nails, and her eyes drifted over to Camille, who looked sweating. The up-and-coming actress scratched the back of her head and looked away, whistling awkwardly. 

“Did you have anything to do with it?” Lucy asked, raising a brow. 

“I promised I wouldn’t gossip while she was gone…” Camille muttered under her breath. “Oh! But this wouldn’t be gossip if I’m not saying anything bad!” She groaned and pulled at her hair. 

“Yeah, you’re just informing us.” Lucy took her feet off the table and leaned forward. “It’s not gossip if you aren’t talking badly about the person.” She shrugged. 

Ronnie did want to know more and hopefully figure out what Kendall’s problem was. At least he talked to her yesterday. But, really, anything was better than getting glared at. Curiously, she looked over her shoulder, and he was doing precisely that, glaring at her from across the pool. If he had such a problem with her, then he might as well have said something about it. Silent hatred from afar was so preschool. 

“Okay, so Jo moved in from North Carolina. She’s an aspiring actress like me and landed a role on Newtown High.” 

“No way! I love that show!” Lucy gasped. 

“She and Kendall were so in love,” Camille sighed wistfully. “But, she got a movie role that would take her to New Zealand, and it caused this pretty big fight.” 

Ronnie turned back around and pretended she couldn’t feel his eyes stabbing into her back. 

“So that’s why he’s such a bitch,” Lucy clicked her tongue. “I just thought he was one of those pretentious douchebags like James.” 

“James is not a pretentious douchebag!” Camille snapped. She looked at the guys to see if they noticed her little outburst, but they couldn’t care less. 

“I mean, who carries a mirror around?” Lucy rolled her eyes. 

“Eventually,” Camille cleared her throat. “Kendall and Jo broke up because Kendall wanted her to pursue her career even if it meant he was heartbroken.” The actress held a hand over her heart. “Isn’t it so romantic? He promised they would pick up where they left off when she returns!” 

“Well, Lover Boy isn’t waiting that long.” Lucy snickered and gestured vaguely in Ronnie’s direction. “He’s been staring this entire time.” 

“He’s just being a jerk.” Ronnie shook her head. “He’s been glaring at me since I arrived.” The songwriter sunk in her seat and pulled her hoodie to cover the back of her head. 

“How are you wearing that? It’s like eighty-plus degrees outside.” Lucy raised a brow. “Is it hiding secrets?” She laughed. 

“No, it’s just my safety item.” 

“Safety from what?” Camille tilted her head. 

“It’s stupid if I explain.” Ronnie waved away her curiosity. She sat up and pulled the sleeves over her hands. 

As Ronnie adjusted how she was sitting, three girls happened to walk past. She accidentally scooted the chair out in their way, and the blonde one bumped into it and spilled her large pink smoothie all over Ronnie’s yellow hoodie. This wasn’t a mustard stain. Her hoodie was ruined. Ronnie froze like a deer in headlights. The pink smoothie was in her hair, in her hood, dripping down her back. 

“Oops, sorry.”  The blonde girl lifted her sunglasses and laughed, the two at her side joining in her laughter as they walked away. 

Lucy and Camille stared at Ronnie with wide eyes. It happened in the blink of an eye and was completely unexpected. 

“I’ll go get napkins!” Camille jumped from her seat and ran off toward the lobby. 

Lucy tried to hold back her disgust, her gaze following the three girls. 

“The Jennifers…” The rocker muttered through clenched teeth. 

“The who?” Ronnie asked, her voice slightly high-pitched. She felt like she was going to be sick. The smoothie made her skin sticky, and she could feel the weight as the liquid seeped into the fabric of her hoodie. The blue-haired girl took a deep breath and pulled her sweatshirt off. The rest of the smoothie was stuck in her hoodie, splattered on the ground in pink strawberry chunks. Ronnie could feel it on her back and held her hoodie as though it was contaminated. 

“They’re such assholes.” Camille huffed as she attempted to help Ronnie by wiping her back with the napkins she grabbed. It was like sandpaper on her skin, and she jumped away. 

Her foot slipped because, of course, it was slippery around a pool. The combination of smoothie dripping from her sweatshirt and pool water was quite dangerous under foot. Ronnie screeched and fell into the pool with a loud splash, her yellow sweatshirt held tightly in her outstretched fist. The guys sprang out of their seats when they watched her fall into the pool. The chlorinated water made her eyes sting, and she let go of her sweatshirt, allowing it to float to the water's surface. Ronnie’s head broke the surface of the water, and she gasped, her arms flailing. Yesterday, she had been so worried about being unable to swim, and suddenly, it seemed to have slipped her mind. It was an utter humiliation. 

She felt herself slipping under, although she tried to fight her hardest against gravity as it tried to pull her under. Her mother never got her swimming lessons as a kid, but now wasn’t the time to think about that. Then she felt an arm around her waist and was tugged to the pool's edge. Amidst the panic, she swallowed quite a bit of chlorinated water and coughed up a storm. Two hands grabbed her arms and pulled her out of the pool. She coughed and sputtered, turning on her side. The water tasted horrible. It was disgusting. 

“Are you okay?!” Kendall and James asked. Kendall was in the pool, and James had pulled her out when the blonde got her to the pool's edge. 

“Dude, you’re crowding her.” Logan pulled James back. 

Ronnie brushed her hair out of her face, gasping for air after the coughing fit. She stood up shakily and grabbed the towel from the lounge chair. In hindsight, she should have responded to their question, but instead, she wrapped the towel around herself and walked away. She was embarrassed and humiliated. 

Instead of giving Ronnie her sweatshirt back, he went to his mother. It was soggy and smelled horrible. He hoped she didn’t hate him, but how could she hate Kendall when he saved her? He did something nice for her. There’s no way she could hate him for that. Mrs. Knight sighed and rolled up her sleeves. The last thing she expected was her song to walk through the door with Ronnie’s slightly stained and soggy sweatshirt. She crossed her arms and gave him a quizzical look. Her mom's instinct told her nothing was wrong, but she couldn’t be too sure about him. 

“What happened?” Mrs. Knight wasn’t disappointed, but he didn’t need to know that. 

Kendall looked guilty, as though he had been caught red-handed. 

“It wasn’t my fault.” 

“I’ll determine that after you tell me why you have her sweatshirt dripping wet all over my floor.” 

Kendall sighed. “The Jennifer’s spilled a smoothie on her, and then she tripped and fell into the pool.” It sounded like he was leaving crucial details out of the story, but she chose to trust him. He wouldn’t hurt someone on purpose. 

“And you want me to wash it?” 

“Yeah, could you?” Kendall smiled sheepishly. It had been a while since she last saw him smile. He had been so caught up with what happened between him and Jo, and Mrs. Knight was starting to miss his smile. Underneath all that heartbreak was a thoughtful and kind young man. She should know because she raised him. 

“What smells so bad?” Katie wandered out of her room. The sweatshirt started to smell because of the chlorine mixing with the smoothie. She saw her brother holding Ronnie’s sweatshirt, and her eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Did you steal that?” 

“No, I didn’t steal it. She left in a hurry, and I didn’t have a chance to give it to her.” 

“Katie, don’t tease your brother.” Mrs. Knight turned to give her a look. “I’ll take care of it, don’t worry.” She took the sweatshirt from Kendall. “You can return it to her when it’s all clean.” 

Kendall nodded and scratched the back of his head. Katie gave him a look. She didn’t believe his story and was determined to get to the bottom of it. If he were suddenly acting like a jerk because Jo broke up with him, then she would share a piece of her mind with him. Kendall glanced at Katie and rolled his eyes. Like the angsty teenager he was, he sulked into his room and closed the door behind him before his little sister could follow him. 

The laundry took two hours to finish. During that time, James, Carlos, and Logan joined Kendall in the apartment. The three of them lounged on the couch, playing a random video game to pass the time. When she showed up, Kendall felt a bit bad about giving Ronnie the cold shoulder. She didn’t deserve that and had no idea what he was going through. It wasn’t her fault, and she wasn’t the reason Jo left. On a technicality, he was the reason Jo left. He wanted her to go and wanted her to break up with him. That didn’t mean it hurt less than it did. Idly waiting for the elevator, Kendall ran his flat palm across the neatly folded, warm hoodie. It was good as new, and he had to remind himself to thank his mother for washing it. She didn’t have to, but she did anyway. Going to her apartment alone was an excellent way to memorize which apartment was hers. 

The blonde carried the folded sweatshirt as if it was fragile. It seemed like Ronnie always wore it, and he didn’t want to drop it or ruin it after it was cleaned. It was back to its vibrance and no longer smelled like sour strawberries and bleach. Scanning the bronze numbers on white doors, he stopped when he had nearly walked past. The lead singer could hear music coming from inside. Hesitantly, he knocked on the door. Why was he nervous? He shouldn’t be anxious. All he was doing was returning her stupid sweatshirt. When there was no response, he knocked again, louder. The music from inside was loud enough, but it was slightly muffled through the door. Pressing his ear against the white door to decipher what she was listening to, it suddenly swung open. Kendall jumped back, clutching a hand to his chest. The loud music she was listening to poured from her laptop on the kitchen island. 

“Like me, I’m going to prove it. I got a question, can you help me out?” 

Ronnie’s gaze hardened, and she raised a brow. Unimpressed by his presence, she crossed her arms and tilted her head. 

“Here,” Kendall thrust the sweatshirt in her hands. The long explanation he was thinking of died in his throat, and he looked away. He tried to act as though he didn’t care. 

“Thanks…” Ronnie held her folded sweatshirt. She stared at him, confused. “How did you get this?” 

“You left it when you ran out of the pool area.” 

“I didn’t run.” 

“You walked fast.” Kendall rolled his eyes. “You’re welcome, bye.” He turned and started walking away. 

Ronnie looked down at her sweatshirt. It was clearly folded with care. She exhaled sharply out of her nose and spoke without thinking. 

“Kendall, wait.” 

He turned halfway and furrowed his bushy brows. What would she do to convince him to let her tweeze them? She pushed that thought to the side. 

“I, uh… Thanks for what you did at the pool,” she said, holding her sweatshirt to her chest. 

“It was either that or let you drown.” Kendall shrugged, nonplussed. 

Ronnie’s mouth fell open. “You say that as if you didn’t want to help me!” 

“No one else would have,” 

“Ugh, you’re such a– such an asshole!” 

Kendall jumped when Ronnie slammed the door shut. Maybe that wasn’t what he should have said. And he wasn’t wholly sure that James, Carlos, or Logan wouldn’t have jumped in after her, but they stood around like idiots trying to process the scene that had unfolded at the pool. The frontman acted without thinking, and it wasn’t like he wouldn’t have helped her if he thought about it.