#hi yes i always feel happy as FUCK when i read a v long fic but doubly so when i realise that i caught up before the end

[aro-aizawa]

sighs in contentment......

[normansnt]

As you've likely seen by now, I've been reblogging nearly every Hazbin fic you have, which I apologize if that bothers you at all. I simply see a lack of the x male reader department for this show, which is ironic considering mostly all the characters are queer and so are the creators. So thank you for what you write and how well you write it! I was hoping I could make a request for a part two of a fic I rather liked "(Vox x bar tander!Male reader)" this one specifically. The reader left off having their soul contract bought and offered to be a bartender at the Vee's private bar, and I was wondering what would happen from there?

HIIIIII

THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST

Im really sorry it took so long😭

Also THANK YOU SO MUCH for the reblogs is doesn't bother me at all IM SO HAPPY YOU LIKE MY WRITING💗💗

I HOPE YOU LIKE IT, I THINK IT TURNED OUT PRETTY GOOD😌

ENJOY READING LOVELY PEOPLE

Warnings: Attempted Rape, violance V@lentino

Habit of saving

as a thank you pt.2

Vox x bartender!male reader

"I just dont fucking understand why the fuck you prefer the company of a lowly bartender over mine"

You hear Valentino's yelling from the other room, again.

This was not uncommon. Since you became the bartender in the Vees manor Vox visited the bar more often than before.

You guys spent hours talking and just because of the drinks either, he barely drunk anything cuz he was busy talking to you.

However, this of course annoyed Valentino. He wanted Vox's attention purely on himself.

"I don't." Said Vox, you know, like a lier.

"Work has just been really stressful lately and I need more drinks than before."

This was all lies. But Vox was not in the mood to be taking Valentino's shit, he would much rather go get a drink with you.

"Bullshit, I know how your work is and you blame everything on it, you dont even want to fuck me anymore are you a fucking moron do you know how many people want to get with ME."

And here he goes again. Vox was a little embarrassed though. It was true that since you arrived he was never in the mood to do it with Val, but he found himself having much more sex dreams with you.

He got red at the thought of that.

"You know what, I don't fucking care, go be happy with your boy toy; but don't you dare forget that you are where you are because of me." Ended the Argument Valentino as he grabbed a bottle from above your head, and walked out of the room.

You were silent during the whole argument. You knew it was not smart to start defending Vox you tried that once and, well, Vox had to stich you up afterwards.

"Care for a drink, sir?" You asked Vox. He was still, just standing in the middle of the room looking at the door.

He felt weird. Well, not weird, happy. But that was strange. Usually he felt guilty or annoyed when Valentino stormed off after a fight, usually he wanted to go after him. But not now. Now he felt...calm. Relieved even. He really wanted to sit down and have that drink with you.

"Yes, I would love a drink, and I've told you multiple times to call me Vox."

"Yeah I know but I didn't want to risk Val still hearing it." You chuckled.

"So, the usual, Vox?"

"Obviously." He answered back.

"Are you ok?" You asked as you poured his drink. You two were close enough for this not to be an awkward question. You were the bartender, you have comforted him after a night of drunken crying and put him to bed multiple times. He always asked you to stay. You never did. You just didn't feel ready yet.

"Getting better by the day, his antics don't affect me as strongly anymore." He commented calmly.

"I'm glad." You gave him his drink and you two continued talking.

And you talked, long into the night. Vox got a bit drunk again.

"All right mister I think it's time to get you to bed." You said smiling softly as you were about to jump from behind the bar and help him to his room.

"I can take care of him." Came a creepy calm voice from the door way. You saw Valentino.

He had a fake smile on his face. You knew this was trouble but he was kind of your boss.

"All right, sir." You just answered quietly, as Val took Vox and started to take him to his room.

"What-no, you-- (Y/N)--I, don't"

Vox mumbled drunken.

When they left the room you had a silent debate with yourself.

Yes Val was your boss. But you knew that taking advantage of someone while they're drunk was not below him.

"Fuck it" you mumbled to yourself as you jumped from behind the bar and tried to quietly run after them.

Thankfully you found them when they were about to enter the room.

When they got in you made sure to put your foot between the door and the frame so it doesn't close.

You peered into the room and you saw Val throw Vox onto the bed.

"You fucking whore, you couldn't keep your hands of the cute bartender boy could you."

He started angrily as he stepped onto Vox's screen, breaking it. You already wanted to barge in there when you saw this but when he started unbuckling his belt, thats when you snapped.

You jumped on Val, literally. And while the man might be powerful he had close to no muscles so he crumbled under you.

You knew you had close to no chance of winning. But you didn't care. You had to save Vox.

You tried to cut off Val's breathing by holding onto his neck for dear life. You might have been physically stronger he was still an overlord. A very powerful one.

You expected to be thrown down onto the floor any minute when the struggling finally stopped.

Your eyes opened widely as you hurriedly got off of Valentino.

You started panicking. What the fuck did you just kill an overlord? No, no there is no way he is so powerful why didn't he stop you.

You kneeled down and checked for a heart beat.

When you felt faint beating a boulder fell off your shoulder.

"Thank fuck" you commented to yourself. He probably just passed out.

But still why didn't he stop you.

You thought about it a but when it hit you. He was probably batshit drunk himself. You saw that when he walked away from the bar he barely managed to walk straight.

You were still panting.

You looked over at Vox and a strong feeling of sadness filled you.

You stepped over Vals passed out form and lifted up Vox.

He was lighter than you thought. You carried him all the way to your room where you knew you had a first aid kit.

Sure you could have just bring the first aid kit to him but you were not going to leave him alone with Valentino jot even for a second. Not even when they're both passed out.

After you put Vox's screen back together and batched him up you laid him down onto your bed.

This gave you time to think things through.

Even you couldn't explain to yourself why you cared about Vox this much.

Its true you have become very close during your time working here.

But there are people who you have known longer yet do not love as much as him.

...love?

You love him?

"(Y/N)"

While you were occupied with your thought you didn't notice the time. It was morning already.

"Yeah, Vox?"

"What the fuck happened?" He asked as he started touching his patched up screen.

You told him everything. You also told him that you will very likely have to leave because once Val wakes up...you don't want to know what he'll do to you.

"He can't do anything your soul is mine you are under my protection." He said firmly. He sat silently after that. Like someone who is contemplating something.

"Can I ask you something?"

He asked after a long silence.

"Of course"

"Why did you save me?"

This surprised you.

"Well, I mean I know what Val is like and...I just did what any normal person would do really-"

"No. You know no one in hell would to that for the demon that owns their soul. Not to mention this was the second time you saved me."

"...I honestly don't know why I did it the first time; I guess I just felt like...I dont know"

"And the second time."

You couldn't answer this. You knew the answer but you didn't want to say it.

"Well, you are a nice boss you treat me with kindness and-"

"No one would attack a powerful overlord just to safe their boss who is just 'nice'; try answering truthfully this time."

Well fuck. You knew Vox was a smart man but that didn't help you in this situation.

"I..." you didn't know what to do. You could come up with another lie but he would detect it no problem.

"I love you" you blurted out before you could stop yourself. The moment the words left your lips you smacked your hands onto your lips.

"I'm sorry sir I will leave-"

Vox took your hand in his when you wanted to stand up and pulled you towards him.

With one swift movement he placed his lips on your in a tender kiss.

You have never kissed a screen before but you were pretty sure it wasn't supposed to be like this.

His lips were soft but cold. It was an amazing kiss.

"Oh, you're not going anywhere." Said Vox while he let out a little chuckle.

"Because I love you too."

[cheolism]

hi katie!! i know that most of the time when i talk to you about your work im pretty much just blabbing/key board smashing and calling you amazing (which you are!! you’re forever that bitch) but i know that it can mean more when i’m more specific on why i love your work so much which !! is why!! im here!!

i’m a sucker for fluffy fics (think i mentioned it before but i have the memory of a goldfish so who knows) and first found your account bc of it, i was a silent reader for a bit before i got the courage to send that long ass ask now here i am,,, anyways!! i think the reason i love your work sm is that you’re able to write emotions v well and it’s very clear to see that the relationship between your characters are more than just surface level, it’s in the little details that matters, the small moment of intimacy shown between them where people tend to gloss over, it’s all just love and you do an incredibly job at showing that!! and your smut on the other hand wheeeeew i haven’t even gotten over an ode to dk arm when you dropped mingyu’s ver, when i tell you i had to put my phone down go for a walk and touch grass to keep myself sane i mean it

i guess over all im just here to say that you’re an amazing writer and thank you for putting your work up for people to read!!!

oh? my god? i'm actually fucking speechless (which is really hard to do btw)? i legit don't know what to do other than sob? dude? this? what? oh my god? huh? HUH?

thank you for these kind words? oh my god????????????????

this makes me feel so butterfly flutter (ah yes. english major doing english major things). i always try to convey emotion and intimacy? and you saying all of this just makes me so fucking happy? oh my god? i want to print this ask out and put it in my box of happy things saldfkjsad and when i go over the box w my grandchildren in forty years they'll be like "grandma what's this?" and i'll be like kiddies. grandma had a different life before all of you, a life where i was appreciated for writing stories about thirteen korean men <3

[sebastiansluts]

Happy new year rosee (ik it’s v late but better late than never) anyway what’s up? Who anon jerk dare come and bring any negativity to my precious rose? Imma throw hands 🤺🤺🤺

I miss you haven’t been able to send you any messages since I’m at my grandma house and I’m restraining myself from reading any smut so I won’t be horny but I’m dying to read new fics from you gosh I wish I’m back at my dorm reading your amazing writings also might thinking I would dye my hair blonde balayage this January for the new year new me bullshit (not rlly I just wanna be Sebastian Stan’ type 😭😭😭) but I miss dyeing my hair so yeah and also been thinking mafia Nick idk why but I imagine him keeping me as a pet and maybe he’ll fuck other girls but kept me watching and he’ll be so mean abt it but I’m his one and only pet so when the girl he’s fucking started talk shit abt me behind my back he’s like “you ain’t special she is, no one talk shit abt my pet” and then kill her and then just fucks me and when he finally breeds me he just won’t stop being around me and finally just fucks me and only me cause I’m the only one that gets it…

But also I’m craving Daddy Lee who’ll take care of me and again humiliates me in a different way like he fucks me dumb that I said “da…da” instead of daddy accidentally and he’s like “aw you can’t even say daddy fucking pathetic you dumb baby look at you babbling like a pathetic braindead fucktoy baby c’mon say it back im a pathetic braindead fucktoy baby yeah you are fucking useless shit I’m gonna wreck you so bad” cause oh my god that fucking belly is all I want I need a big boy and as always je suis excitée (idk french unless it’s that and voulez vous coucher avec moi)

So yeah my mind is fucked up but it izzz what it izzz. Ps. I used to hate when the ml have other girl but I crave to be humiliated now I don’t mind lol as long as he’s mine is that fucked up? I think that’s fucked up I need to go to a therapy

~sincerely your beluga

Happy New Year hon!!! I hope you had a good one <3 Thank you for defending me, I love you. I've missed you too! I hope you're having a good time even though you're not reading any smut- I'll try to have some more for you to read soon! Haha I say go for it, do the hair change if you've been missing it! I need to redye mine soon, maybe I'll do a dark purple or something! But yeah I feel you on wanting to be Seb's type!!

Mmm mafia!nick is a great one, and I love the humiliation plus protectiveness, it's like, no, only he gets to be a dick to you, no one else. And the giving in at the end to only fucking you, because really, why would he need anyone else when you're willing to do everything and anything?

But ooo daddy lee is so good too because yes he could humiliate so much like that, he'd say how he's so much smarter, he knows what's best for you, and just keeps fucking you until you're flying....

Hahaha love that little bit of french, it's all I know too lol. And so what, your mind is fucked up, my mind is fucked up, we're all fucked up! And I mean, we should all probably see therapists, but that's a whole other issue lol

[izzy-b-hands]

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately? 🏆 What's your most popular fic? ✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it.

Music: Sometimes? More often than not I'll have something on, it just depends what I'm writing and why I'm writing as to what it is. I have certain playlists for when I need background noise/no vocals, some that are essentially fic soundtracks, and others that are for certain characters.

Lately I've been trying to force any of the au-gust prompts into being written, and it's led me back to a combination of David Bowie (shocking to no one, long time followers are staring unimpressed going 'yes, yes, the move back to Bowie as fic soundtrack, we've done this before' lmao), Avatar, and Uncle Acid & the Deadbeats. Brief track recs that I've had on repeat lately for each:

Bowie-Son's of the Silent Age (any version, but the 2017 remaster is v good), Cactus, Bring Me the Disco King, Hallo Spaceboy, The Hearts Filthy Lesson, 5:15 The Angels Have Gone, and the one that keeps making me feel homesick (even tho the idea of having to go back to ND for any reason rn makes me physically sick, which is confusing af lol) Everyone Says 'Hi'.

Avatar-Out of Our Minds, Let Us Die, Do You Feel In Control?, The Dirt I'm Buried In, Raven Wine, When the Snow Lies Red, and Black Waters.

Uncle Acid & the Deadbeats-this one is album specific, so you're looking at their latest live release 'Slaughter on First Avenue' and tracks: Waiting for Blood, Shockwave City, 13 Candles, Pusher Man, Ritual Knife, I'll Cut You Down, and No Return.

Most Popular Fic: I had to look this one up fkasdjlfjasfd. I don't know for sure which is most popular of the ones on Tumblr, since some of those fics haven't been ported over to my ao3 yet and my varying writing tags have been lost to time (I'll have been on here for 12 years as of this year lol)

Anyway per ao3 going by highest hits on my Stats page, it's one of my Hobbit fics which I am. Hesitantly linking (it's just v cheesy and cutesy fdsklafjsal) bc fuck it, y'all know my ao3 and could go read everything I wrote from that fandom anyway: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1076085

Compliment: fjdslkafjas YOU! But okay, I'll try. I think, when I am at my best, my writing elicits the feelings I want it to. And I know, that doesn't sound like a compliment at first, but it's taken years of practice to get this far, so if it's doing that even part of the time...that's pretty good. It could certainly be worse, and I'll always be happy to be better than worse.

[hansensgirl]

i’m in the water.

summary. | He’s in the wind, and you’re in the water. Nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter.

warnings. | non/dubcon, smut, angst, protectiveness, kidnapping (implied), stockholm syndrome, obsessiveness, death/violence, dark themes, DDLG undertones, creampie kink, choking, piss kink (both pee), degradation, pet play undertones, p in v sex, Master kink, dacryphilia, crawling, slapping, hair pulling, face fucking, boot riding, orgasm denial, spitting, gagging, manhandling, praise, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI.

word count. | 8.5k

pairings. | Dark!Winter Soldier x Naive!Reader.

a/n. | please heed the warnings! i hope you enjoy, and please don’t forget to reblog! if you take ANY inspiration from my fics (and i’ll know, trust me) and you don’t give credit, you will be blocked and i’ll let others know. they’re both very hydrated! this takes place in the 90’s! thank you so much @asadmarveltrashbag and @mypoisonedvine for proof reading for me ilysm!!

From the day you were born, you always felt as though your legs are broken. Always needing crutches throughout your life to hold you up, always needing support. But you never really had these crutches, so you'd always drag your hands against the brick walls to support yourself. Vulnerable, breaking away at the edges, falling down. Nothing kind ever came, and it stays the same for a while.

So maybe that’s why you lean into his icy cold touch. So abrasive and yet so caring. His aspects are juxtaposed to each other, just like in those Magritte paintings your art teacher would show you. She was always a kind lady, but you don’t care enough about her to wonder where she is in life now. She was kind to you, though, so you hope that she isn’t suffering like you are.

Your goosebumps raise for the fifth time in this painfully slow hour.

“Are you cold, кролик?” he asks even though he knows the answer. You hum. You always do. Your voice doesn’t raise in an affirmation. It stays flat; he knows what that means. “Thinking again?” he gruffly presses, squeezes your bare arms. The thin, grey shirt with torn sleeves does nothing to protect your body. But why do you ask for protection against the man who has done everything for you?

“Why… Why do people believe that grey is a boring colour?” you ask him, looking around the dark cell that surrounds you. Soldat grunts, not knowing what to say. “I think it’s quite beautiful. All colours have different shades, yes, but there’s something about grey. Each shade comes with a different emotion. Don’t you think so?” you ask him, looking down to your lap.

A carrot toy sits there. It’s filled with cotton balls from the medical room, by his request. “Yes…” He bites the tip of his tongue, not sure what to say because the Soldat only has a few emotions and a few words. “Why can’t we get a different wall colour?” you question him, turning around to face the man.

“It’s not allowed,” he reminds you. You feel like you’re experiencing déjà-vu, but then again, the days have blurred together so well that you can’t tell if the tape is being put on rewind already. You have to assume that your celluloid scenes are fading away along with your sanity. It’s torn at the seams. Threads hanging that just need to be ripped or cut out.

“Beige would look lovely…” you point out solemnly. The Soldat doesn’t know what shade of beige you’re thinking of, but he believes it would be beautiful nonetheless. “I… have a mission,” he tells you after a while. You hum in that same monotonous tone again, so he squeezes your arm even tighter. “When, Master?” you curiously ask, only now taking in his words.

“Tonight. Approximately at twenty-one hours,” he informs you in that mechanic voice of his that you hate. It makes you feel more trapped and vulnerable, even though there’s quite literally a chip in the back of your neck. “How long?” you ask him softly, a frown already beginning to display itself on your face.

He doesn’t like it when you frown. He prefers the lines that your smile provides over the lines your frown forces. That innocent glint in your eyes shines a bit, flickering like a dull light on the verge of completely blowing. Though it’s not much, it’s still something. And when it goes away, his entire being is filled with darkness.

You’re the light of his life, the fire of his loins.

“Not sure. Extraction of information. Senators and mayors…” He begins to ramble, and you shake your head. “Sorry, кролик,” he apologizes as he notices how uncomfortable you’re starting to get. You hum again. He wonders if you were a bird in your past life, perhaps a hummingbird, to be more exact. Or maybe even a swan or a dove because you’re just as beautiful as they are, if not more.

“You know how to behave, right? Потому что ты мой хороший маленький кролик?” he asks, and you don’t understand the second question, but you understand the former. “I know, Master,” you breathe, an airy ending to your words. “You’ll be good, кролик?” he questions one more time, and you lazily nod. You’re tired. Your body moves at a drowsy pace, and you don’t like it.

You don’t want to sleep, though. Scared that if you shut your eyes for too long, the monsters will come back, and Soldat won’t be able to save you. He always saves you. You’re his damsel, constantly in distress, locked away in a gilded cage. But he tells you it’s not a gilded cage. It’s not a run-down cell built in the fifties. It’s your home, even though you haven’t known what home is like for a while.

“I’ll always be good for you, Master. Please don’t leave for long. I get lonely easily,” you express in small bits of sadness and distress. “I know, кролик, я знаю,” Soldat says as he hugs you closer. You tilt your head backwards and let it lull on his shoulder. “I’ll be back as soon as possible,” he promises, and you know it’s not true because he never fulfills it. “But my carrot can’t keep me company for all those hours… Please stay? Please?” you plead with tears welling in your eyes.

“Я могу составить ей хорошую компанию,” the soldier standing outside the cell mutters under his breath, earning a few snickers from his coworkers. I can keep her in good company, is what he said. And it’s truly unfortunate that the guards have forgotten that the Soldat — the Asset — has super-hearing. Their laughter dies down into sighs, and Winter’s chest begins to heave.

He puffs up like the big bad wolf he is, and he tosses you to the side like a rag doll. You watch him as he strides his way over to the guards. Each step carries the weight of the Winter Soldier, the one who’s ready to kill whoever is in his sight. Except for you. His bionic hand reaches through the metal bars that separate him from the outside world.

He wraps his fingers around the guard’s neck, and he squeezes his throat tightly. As Winter crushes the guard’s windpipe, you watch him behind slightly squinted eyelids. Tears blur your eyesight, and you remember that time when you were holding off the tears so well, you couldn't see the HYDRA van driving ahead of you.

Maybe if you could control your emotions a little better, you wouldn’t be here.

But then again, where would you be without the Soldat? Miserable, stuck in the worst parts of town without anyone. Having to drag your hands across those brick walls, again and again. Surviving on your own, teetering on the edge of death. Just like these men at the hands of the Soldat.

The crunching of bones and the screams of men are all blocked out for you. You focus on Soldat’s arm whirring in the most satisfying harmony you’ve heard in the past two years. Other than the orchestra you both have managed to make almost every day. But you still cup your hands over your ears.

Winter pulls a knife from the guard’s limp body. That very same knife ends up inside his heart, stopping it from pumping. The guards begin shooting at Winter, but he easily shields himself with the metal arm. It goes silent, but you keep your hands over your ears. Muffled talking steps in place of the silence, and you look up to see members of HYDRA staring at your Winter and you.

“Солдат, Что ты натворил?” One of the head agents asks. You believe his name is Vasily Karpov because that is what Winter has told you. “The… The guard said something about my кролик. He’s not supposed to,” Winter explains, looking to the ground. Karpov mutters a chain of curse words under his breath that you’re not too happy about. One of the other agents asks him to speak up, and he snaps.

“Just get him to the armoury! We need to prep him,” he shouts before stalking away from the scene. They all stick around a few more seconds before scurrying off like little mice. The dead bodies still lay on the floor, but nobody seems to really care. What’s happened has happened, and there’s no changing it.

“Привести с собой солдата!” A rough voice blasts through the intercoms, and suddenly, more guards show up at your cell. You curl up into a ball and rest your forehead against your knees. You can’t bear to watch them take him away. You wait until the cell door swings shut, and then men stomp away. But even then, you cannot look up.

Bring the Soldat.

He wears that mask of his. The last time you saw it, it was caked with dirt and blood. You can hear his hard breathing behind it, almost sounding as though he’s just run a marathon. He sits in the edge of the cot — the left corner, to be exact — and he watches you. The Soldat states as you look down at the array of snacks he’s provided you with.

“Kролик,” Winter gruffly calls, and you turn around. You hum and your voice raises at the end. You haven’t done that in a while, so it startles him a bit. “Which one?” he asks, stretching his neck out just a bit to see what snack you’ve chosen. “N… Not sure,” you shyly whisper, ducking your head down in fear.

“Green one,” he says after a while, and you place your hand on it. “I don’t know what it is?” you confusingly say. The Russian text on it confuses you, so you hand it to Winter. “ Sour Patch Kids…” Winter reads out loud, knitting his eyebrows together in confusion. “Oh, I like those!” you eagerly cheer, sitting up on your knees. You turn around and reach your hand out for him to give them to you.

They’ve wiped him. You know it, and you hate it. They’ve taken all emotion away from him, and now he’s just an empty shell of a man. His softness from just a few hours ago has now gone away, and you don’t know what to expect of himself. But then again, you never do.

Hesitatingly, he hands it over. “Don’t eat now. Sugar will keep you up,” he warns, and you nod. Your father would say the same thing when you were younger. The only difference is that your father had more love in his voice than Winter ever will. “We need to go over the rules,” he speaks up after a few seconds. You hum again, and he continues. “Do you remember your rules?” Winter asks, and you hum once more.

“Кролик,” he growls, and you look up. “Do you need me to repeat the rules?” Winter questions and you shake your head in objection. He doesn’t listen, though, because he knows you don’t remember them. You never seem to remember the big, important parts of the puzzle. Only the small corner pieces that don’t really matter. “I’ll tell you them anyway, and you’re going to listen to every word I say. Understood, кролик?” he raises his eyebrow, not leaving any room for protesting.

You gulp thickly and nod. “Don’t make any noises, don’t touch yourself, don’t talk to the guards, don’t let anyone touch you, don’t hurt yourself and don’t even think of escaping,” he lists, and the last one makes tears sting your eyes. “I won’t escape. ‘S not like I can even do anything in here,” you whisper under your breath, and he stands up. Metal fingers grip your chin tightly, and Winter slowly kneels down in front of you.

You’re watched like a pet. You always have been. Not even a pet, more like a possession. Seen as an object with no feelings and no emotions. As though you don’t have a heart that pumps crimson blood and lungs that expand with each breath you take. “Don’t ever speak like that again. I can easily stitch those pretty lips of yours shut, кролик,” he threatens, and you feel your tears beginning to leak.

No, no, no, no, no. Not now.

He laughs. He fucking laughs, and you want to cry even more because you need him. You need your support, but he doesn’t want to give it to you. You should’ve just kept your mouth shut. “You’re so fucking… precious. Especially when you shed those tears of yours,” he tells you with a hidden smile behind his mask. He squeezes your jaw even tighter, and you whimper out a small ‘thank you, Master’ to him.

“I wasn’t finished listing the rules, so keep your fly shut,” Winter sneers, and you nod your head slowly. “When I get back, which will be in around three hours, you have to finish drinking all those bottles of water,” he stays, snapping his fingers to grab your attention. Your eyes follow those very same fingers as they point at the four bottles of water sitting by the bed.

You never noticed them until just now. “Oh, and you can’t go to the bathroom until I say so,” he adds with a slight humorous chuckle to his voice. Your eyeballs nearly fall out of their sockets. “Don’t worry, кролик, I’ll be back so quickly, it’ll feel like a few minutes,” he promises, and you feel a wave of relief wash over you. It reminds you of when you were young, and your parents would take you to the beach.

Your parents would build sandcastles with you until they got tired. You would beg your father to piggyback you into the sea, and he would do exactly that. Your mother would carry her disposable camera with her just to take photos that would end up in the green photo album from the thrift store.

And when you got a bit older, you’d go by yourself—older in the sense that you have to start paying the bus fare of $3. You’d head to the beach after dinner and before your parents came home from work. The sky would either be a dark, dark grey or a lovely mix of pastels. The water would wash beneath your feet, pulling and loosening clumps of sand.

Taking it away the same manner Winter took your innocence.

“And remember, if you break any of these rules, I’ll know. And the outcome won’t be as pretty as your face or that pussy of yours, кролик,” Soldat warns, and you nod your head. “Yes, Master,” you shyly say to him. You want to look down at the concrete flooring so badly, but his iron-clad grip on you doesn’t loosen until a minute after your words. He looks down at you, and you look away. His strong gaze is just as powerful as the summer sun that would beat down on your skin.

“Прощай, кролик.”

You never realized how thirsty you were until just now. You’ve finished all four bottles in the span of two hours, and now you’re counting down the minutes until Soldat arrives. There are no guards standing outside your cell, so you’re all alone. Not even your intrusive thoughts have visited, and you wonder if the water was spiked.

You were never that good at telling time. It would always take you a few seconds to find the minute hand and the hour hand. But the digital clock that is on the wall across from your cell is quite helpful. It even has seconds on it, too. So you count down out loud, trying to ignore the full feeling in your stomach.

Stomping echoes down the hallways, and you don’t know if he’s close by or meters away from you. You never could tell. Russian words fall off the agents’ tongues, and sometimes you wish you could understand them. Maybe then you wouldn’t feel like such an outsider even though you’re trapped in their home. “Ты свободен, солдат,” one of the agents say, and you can hear Winter grunt.

You’re free to go, Soldat.

His big, heavy feet stomp down the hallway. The sounds bounce off the greyish-green walls, stained with different things such as blood and dirt. You can hear his metal arm whirring, and your heart jumps with fear. You’re not scared of him; you’re scared of what he’s capable of.

Oh, who are you kidding? You’re terrified of him.

The guards open up the cell door, and you look up, locking eyes with his. They’re dark and empty as they usually are. “Кролик,” he growls, and you whimper. You run up to him and hug him, feeling the water slosh inside of you. You slow your breathing down the same way your elementary school nurse told you to when you were younger and try your hardest not to throw up.

“Missed me, hm?” Winter questions and you nod meekly. Though you didn’t want to admit it two years ago, you do now. “Missed you lots, Master,” you tell him. The leather is cold against your warm skin. If you focus just a bit more, you could feel the creases of the fabric as well. But you’re too busy with him, so you ignore it. “W- Was the mission good, Master?” you nervously ask him, only out of curiosity and nothing more.

“As always. Were you good, кролик?” Soldat questions in return, rightfully so. You nod eagerly and fiddle with your fingers behind his back. He acts like he can’t feel it, just for you not to stop hugging him. “Good girl… You seem like you want something. Out with it,” he orders, and you gulp in fear.

“I… I was wondering if I could go to the bathroom,” you meekly tell Winter, looking down to the ground. His boots are shiny and polished. Cleaner than anything you’ve seen before, and it’s confusing. He usually comes in covered with dirt, sweat, tears and blood. “You need to go to the bathroom, кролик?” he asks as if he didn’t hear you beforehand.

You shyly nod and unwrap your arms from around his broad torso. You wonder if he left the mission unscathed or not. Winter chuckles. It’s breathy, airy, sly and dark. “Aw, кролик, you’re adorable, the cutest кролик of them all. It’s too bad I’m not going to let you,” he sneers in that faux fantasy tone of his. You furrow your eyebrows and so desperately want to beg him, but it’s out of line, and he never asked, so you stay quiet.

Winter grabs your hand and drags you to the cot, reminding you of the way you’d pull your parents to the shore so they can play in the water with you. They’d both laugh before your father would tackle you in the water, and your mother would push him down in retaliation. You’d always resubmerge from the water with a smile on your face and laughter bellowing throughout the beach.

You miss those times.

You let him guide you to the bed you wish wasn’t yours. “What did you do while I was gone, кролик?” Soldat questions, sitting down on the canvas of the bed. You’re placed on his lap, almost as though he’s forcing you to reclaim a throne you need. And it’s true; you need him. His hands fall to your waist, and Winter holds you in place. “I drank all the water as you asked, and I just sat here, Master,” you recount to him, leaving out the parts of the past three hours he doesn’t need to know.

He hums in the same manner as you. “That’s all?” he questions, and you slowly nod your head. “Good, I’d hate to have to punish you this late in the night,” he says, pinching the skin on your torso. You don’t whimper because you’re used to it. He calls it affection, and so do you. Winter’s hands move from your sides to the front of your stomach, caressing you with a bit of pressure being put on your bladder.

You whimper and try to play it off with a cough, but you know deep down he doesn’t buy it. Soldat continues to run his hand against your stomach the same way you’d run across the shore. Slow, wary, yet with care from the ground beneath you. You like to think of the simpler, more happier times. You know if Winter pushes a little harder, you may not be able to control yourself any longer.

The pressure in your bladder grows every few seconds, so you squirm around in his lap. Your weight shifts from his left thigh to his right thigh, over and over, and he knows exactly what’s wrong. “Кролик… Are you feeling all tingly?” he asks you. You nod your head, but you take in his words. Meanings and implications are always lost with you. They fly over your head the same way birds do, and you only see them with someone's direction.

“N- No, Master, I just have to pee really badly…” you clarify to him, and he nods his head in understanding. You smile as a spark of hope lights inside of your heart. “I don’t think you do, кролик, I already told you,” he assures, and you sigh. “I- I know, Master, I’m sorry,” you apologize and drop your head down. “I think you’re having those tingles, кролик, is your little cunt wet?” Soldat questions even though you don’t have to answer.

His hand travels between your legs and to your pussy, cupping it tightly. You whimper and involuntarily grind against his hand. “You’re absolutely soaked, кролик! Were you thinking of me?” he interrogates, and you just go with it. “Y- Yes, Master, was thinking of you all the time,” you whisper to him. He squeezes your cunt tighter and purrs in your ear. “Then why didn’t you tell me beforehand, кролик?” Winter presses, and you feel fear pump through your veins.

“I- I knew you were tired from the mission, so I didn’t want to bother you, Master. I’m sorry, please forgive me!” you plead, and he clicks his tongue in disapproval. Your heart sinks to your stomach with each sound he makes, and you want death to take you right here, right now. The Soldat pushes you to the ground, and you fall with a loud ‘thud!’. Your knees hit the concrete hard, and you can feel your old scars open up a bit.

One was from a poor fall at the beach. Your father carried you home, and your mother tried to soothe you. You were only six at the time, but it felt like your world was ending.

Winter’s metal hand grabs your hair and tugs on your locks painfully. You bite back a pained moan as he yanks your head back. It’s not the first time he has nearly given you whiplash. He changes moods faster than anyone you’ve ever met. The Soldat walks around you, and you follow him with your eyes. “It’s okay, кролик. I’m not mad at you. I’m gonna treat you so well; you’re gonna love me even more,” he promises with a dark glint in his eyes.

He wedges his boot between your legs and underneath your cunt. “Get comfy, шлюха,” he orders. You shift yourself a bit, trying to alleviate any aches you feel, but it seems as though he wants you to be uncomfortable. Your pussy rests on his foot, and you wonder what he’s up to. His hand tilts your head to look up at him. You want to look away, just like when you’d look at the bright sun on a hot summer day. It was always too much to look at, but the sight was so captivating you couldn’t turn away.

“You said you wanted to go pee, right, маленькая потаскушка?” he questions, and you confusingly nod. “Then go ahead, do it,” he orders. You gasp, quite loudly, in fact. The reaction doesn’t please your Master, so he yanks on your hair a little tighter. “What’s wrong, сука? I thought that’s what you needed?” he interrogates, and you nod. “Yes, Master, but not like this,” you reason, and he growls. “I give you protection, I give you food, I give you my cum, I give you everything you need. What’s wrong now? Don’t you love me?” Winter asks.

Your heart quite literally breaks in two.

“I do, Master! I love you so much!” you promise, feeling those stupid tears of yours starting to well up. “Then why aren’t you listening to me, you dumb baby? Hm?” he presses, and panic begins to rise in your chest. The tears stream down your face the same way the waves would engulf you at the age of 7. “It’s just uncomfortable, Master, that’s all…” you reason with him. “Well, I don’t care. You’re gonna do it anyway, okay? I thought you were a good bunny for me…” Winter trails off as if he’s lost all hope and cause.

It makes you want to cry even harder.

Sniffling, you wipe your tears and try not to give up. “I am your good bunny, Master. Please don’t make me do this. I don’t want to!” you beg once again, and he grows weary of your patheticness. Winter bends down, and his flesh hand goes to the front of your flimsy shirt. Thin cotton rips away easily, with barely any strength coming from his behalf. The grey cloth is in two pieces, and he pushes them off your shoulders.

Your nipples harden as soon as the cool air brushes against them. Winter’s hand leaves your head, and you feel alone without his touch. “Seems like you forgot your place, кролик… You don’t get what you want; you get what you deserve. And what you deserve is to be put in your place,” he tells you, and your bones rattle with fear. The sound of a belt clinking and a zipping being pulled down grabs your attention, and you hold back a hearty sigh.

The Soldat stares you down as he throws his belt to the side just like he did you a few hours ago. “I can’t believe you, honestly. Думая, что ты так выше меня, пытаясь помешать мне делать то, что я хочу. After this, you’re going to regret ever talking back to me like that ever again,” he rants under his breath like the mad man he is. Your tears have dried up, but your bottom lip starts to wobble again. He huffs, tired of seeing you cry.

Winter halts his movements and goes to remove his mask, the one thing that’s been hiding that sinister smirk of his. The dark, matte material is clutched between the tips of his cut-up, bruised fingers. He carefully places the mask on your face, covering your mouth and nose. The action shuts you up, just like how he wants. You look up at him without blinking your tears away. You let them fall and soak the mask, staining it with your waterworks.

The Soldat pulls his big, thick cock out of his tactical pants. His cock is as hard as a rock, blooding pumping down to it, and his veins throb on the side of his shaft. Beads of precum drip down from his tip, rolling down his cock. He’s a raging red, desperate to be inside of you. His metal head returns to your head, and he brings you higher up in your knees. Your neck cranes at such a painful angle that the ache in your knees is ignored.

“You better fucking look at me while I teach you your lesson, шлюха,” he warns, and you listen to him easily. Through your haze of pained tears, you manage to look into his eyes. You’re not sure what he wants to do and what he’s going to do. You never do. The Soldat is unpredictable, and even in your two years of knowing him, you’ll never understand how the gears in his mind turn.

“Not so dumb after all, huh,” he chuckles before shaking his head. Winter sighs and smiles down at you. “One last chance, шлюха,” he tells you in a sing-song voice. You don’t say anything, and the Soldat clicks his tongue. Suddenly, instead of the delicious precum, he would usually make you lap up like a kitten, clear streams of warmth hit your chest. You gasp behind the mask, but it comes out as muffled nonsense to him.

“Stop!” you cry out to him, but your words are once again muffled. His pee soaks your chest as he relieves himself from the pressure in his bladder. Your hands bat at his stiff thighs, hitting them just so that he can stop humiliating you and treating you like you’re all but human. Winter growls, and his metal arm drops your head, and he slaps your hands away. His pee covers your tits and drips down your skin, staining you with disgust and humiliation.

The streams soon stop, and you’re sobbing even louder now. “Oh shut it, this isn’t even as bad of a punishment. I’m going easy on you, шлюха, I could easily do worse,” Soldat growls as the slightly tinted liquid drips from the tip and onto the ground. Your chest stutters with sobs, and you can barely breathe. You’re covered and coated like a freshly bought canvas, and Winter’s just ruined you. Almost in the same manner that you’d destroy your father’s canvas with your cheap, dollar store paint.

Winter bends down and grabs what was once your shirt and is now just a piece of cloth. Kind of like how your mother would give you any leftover scraps of fabric to make something for you. She’d never let anything go to waste. He uses it to wipe the drops of urine that still drip from his cock, and then he throws it at you like you mean nothing to him. You let it fall to the ground because there’s no possible way a piece of cloth that was once on your back can fix your honour.

But who are you kidding? You lost your honour the moment you gave into the Soldat, just like you always do.

You stretch your arms out to him, silently pleading for comfort from him. But he shakes his head with a sly smile on his face. “Aw, you want your Master to help you out, мой питомец?” Winter questions, and you eagerly nod your head. His metal hand goes to remove the mask, but he stops as soon as he touches it. “Say please,” he orders with faux sympathy in his voice. “Please, Master,” you beg to him, and he smiles.

Winter places his hand back on the mask and yanks it off of your face. The sides scratch your cheeks a bit, but that’s not what matters. “T- Thank you, Master. I love you so much,” you tell him before struggling to put a smile on your face. At the end of the day, no matter how brutal he is with you, you’ll always love him. ...Right? “You’re welcome, кролик,” he says as he throws the mask to where his belt lies.

Your cheeks are sticky and stained with tears, much like your chest. Winter’s flesh hand cups your left cheeky lightly, and he’s back to being the gentleman who has killed for you on numerous occasions. He wipes away the wetness on your cheek as his other hand goes to his cock, grabbing the base of it. “Say ‘ah,’ моя маленькая шлюшка,” he orders before you can even register his signature Cheshire smirk.

His cock is shoved inside your mouth without any warning. He always does that. No heads up, no preparation, nothing. Zip, zilch, nada. Winter wiggles his foot that’s underneath your cunt, and the sudden friction is startling. He calls you bunny because of this reason. You can get off on anything, and you’re always needy for him. “I can see how wet you are, шлюха. You’re soaking my boot with that little pussy of yours,” he coos.

You don’t realize how wet you are until he points it out. You’re absolutely soaking, and you’re not sure why. But for the utmost incomprehensible reason ever, you don’t care.

His cock slides down your throat until your nose nuzzles against his pubic bone. His balls touch your chin, and your saliva coats his cock thickly. Your throat and side of your kissable mouth both hurt horribly, but you ignore the pain just for him. “You’re my good little bunny, right?” he questions, and you nod while his cock rests on your tongue. “And good little bunnies like you always listen to their Masters, right?” Winter asks, and you nod again.

He smiles. His hand on your cheeks moves to the back of your head slowly, returning to its newfound home. “I bet you want to come, don’t you, кролик?” he interrogates, and he’s not wrong. You really do want to come, and you’re a bit ashamed of it. “Master will let you come, don’t worry. I’m gonna let you have cummies, кролик,” he promises, and you happily giggle around his cock.

“Go on, hump my boot like the little bunny you are,” he pushes, and your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets. You want to protest so badly, but the memories of what he just did to you freshly flood your mind like the memories from when you were younger. “Are you that stupid that I have to explain how to get yourself off? Or are you just not listening to me, кролик?” he asks in a tone that reminds you of subdued thunder.

You shake your hand and try to move your hips around a bit. Your soaking wet pussy grinds against the leather of Winter’s shoe, and your clit throbs at the feeling. Winter’s cock slides out of your mouth until the fat tip of it is all that’s left, and then he quickly shoves it back in. Your loud gags and his moans fill the room like music. Your loss of oxygen makes you see stars, and you can recall how much your father loved to paint the midnight skies until he couldn’t keep his eyes open.

Your old toothbrushes would serve as the home of the clouds of dust that the stars would be born from. His fingers would be covered in white paint that would fall off in the water and swirl down the sink. His black t-shirts would have white freckles on them, and your mother would always suggest for him to turn the cloth into a galaxy. He’d always tell her one day, and you’d always remind him of that day whenever you’d catch him painting.

“Fuck, you always do look even prettier with my cock in your mouth, кролик,” he swears, and you smile around his cock. Oh, well, you at least try to smile. You continue to rub yourself against his boot as he uses your throat as he pleases. Your hole drools with want, and your slick gives his shoe a shine that is unmatched by any other substance. The burning, fiery feeling on your clit spreads to your abdomen, and you can feel yourself being brought closer to the edge.

You’re moaning around his thick cock, sending sinful vibrations throughout him. “Fuck, are you gonna come, кролик?” he questions as he feels you hug his leg. You nod around his cock, and he begins to push your head back and forth of his cock, matching your desperate movements. He uses you like a fleshlight, and you’re used to it. “Well, too fucking bad, шлюха, you’re not allowed to come,” he spits, and your hips freeze in place.

“I didn’t say stop, did I? No, I didn’t, continue, шлюха,” he sneers, and you listen to the Soldat. You’re not sure how you’re going to stave off your orgasm, but you’ll do anything for him. You slowly begin to grind your hips back and forth on his boot again, trying to slow your breathing down, and Winter fucks your face sloppily. “Fuck, you want my cum, don’t you, кролик?” he questions, and you squeeze his leg tighter.

Winter pulls his cock out abruptly and pinches the base, staving off his release only for a few seconds. “I said, don’t you want my cum, шлюха?” he asks once again, and you nod. Saliva coats your mouth, and you can barely catch your breath. “I- I really want your cum, Master, please! Please give me your cum,” you plead to him with a ditzy look in your eyes. You wiggle your hips side to side just to give off the impression that you’re getting yourself off.

But you can’t fool the fooler. Nobody can.

“I’m going to give you all my cum, шлюха, and you’re going to take it all like a good girl,” he moans as he shoves his cock back into your mouth. Winter shoves himself deep inside your throat until you can’t take any more of his length. You swallow around his cock, and he moans loudly, swearing in Russian. The words roll off his tongue skillfully, and you feel yourself getting even wetter.

He grabs your head even tighter and bobs your skull up and down his cock a few more times before finally hitting his release. His balls tighten up, and a deep, throaty moan leaves his mouth in the best way ever. Hot, sticky ropes spurt down your throat before you can even register the way he throws his head back. Winter’s long hair spills on the sides of his head as his cum spills down your throat. You have no choice but to swallow, but it’s not like you want to spit his seed out anyways.

Winter lets out a deep moan that goes straight to your core, and his hand pats your head in a praising manner. “Good girl, such a good fucking girl,” he praises as he slowly pulls his sensitive cock out of your mouth. Your cunt flutters with sensitivity, and you want to come so badly, but you just can’t. The Soldat takes a few steps back, slipping his foot away from your aching pussy. You let out a whimper, and he smiles.

“I’m not done with you, маленький кролик,” he tells you, and your heart flutters. You’ve managed to ignore the building pressure in your bladder, but now it seems to come back stronger. “C- Can I go pee first, Master?” you politely ask him, still on your knees. Even that ache has returned, but it’s the least important thing as of now. He ignores your question as he works on the numerous straps on his battle uniform.

Skillful fingers take off the leather vest he wears, revealing a bulletproof protectant that saves him from certain dangers. “Get on the bed, кролик,” Winter orders as he continues to strip himself. You begin to stand up on your wobbly, scarred legs, but he tuts. “Uh uh, not like that,” he interjects, walking back to you. He pushes you back onto the floor, and you fall with a sob. “On your knees, because that’s what you deserve. Nothing more, шлюха,” he sneers, and you sniffle.

You slowly crawl to the bed. Each time your knees touch the ground, you burn up with both arousal and humiliation. And it’s not like the action is making your need to go to the bathroom any better. The abrupt movement makes the liquid slosh inside you, and you want to burst out in tears, begging Winter to just let you relieve yourself. Your hands have slight scars from your nails, and it reminds you of when your father would encourage you to do the monkey bars.

You’d always try to swing yourself to the end with all your might. But you never could do it. You’d fall down to the ground and leave the park wailing. The scars and blisters on your hand would make your parents so upset, but that never stopped you from wanting to go back and try again. Eventually, you got too old to try, and it would always upset you. Maybe one day you’ll be able to try again— one day.

You hear zippers unzipping and velcro cracking behind you as you get on the bed. The coolness of the sheets is so refreshing against your hot skin. It soothes you for a few seconds, but it eventually loses its worth. You turn around and face him with a sort of dumbfounded look on your face. He fucking loves it; Winter always does. He’s naked, fully naked, and even his signature tactical boots have been discarded.

If you squint, you could see the way your wetness shines on his boot. “Good girl, such as good little bunny,” he praises, and you can feel yourself get flustered. Winter climbs onto the bed, staring you dead in the eyes. He kneels in front of you with a wicked smirk, and he brings his flesh hand up to your throat. You let out a gasp as he squeezes your neck tightly before he leans in closer to you.

The Soldat’s face is just a mere few centimetres away from yours. You can feel each breath that he takes against your skin. His hard cock rests against your sticky chest, and he’s still hard as fuck. “Open your mouth, кролик,” he orders, and you instantly do so. You wait for his cock to be stuffed in your mouth once again, but it never comes. You watch as he puckers his lips up before spitting right by your mouth.

You choke in surprise as his saliva slowly drips into your mouth, landing on your sore tongue. You whimper at the feeling, and Winter has a proud smile on his face. He pulls his head away from yours, in the same manner your father would whenever he’d finish one of his masterpieces. “Swallow it all, кролик, I know you want to,” he orders in a sing-song voice.

You follow his demand obediently. You can’t lie; the sheer act of him spitting in your mouth and forcing you to swallow it makes you even wetter. You’d take anything he gives you. “You’re such a good girl, you know that right?” he questions, and your chest heaves. Winter’s cock twitches against you, and you so desperately want him inside you. But there’s nothing you want more than to go relieve yourself.

His metal hand comes up to your face, and you think he’s going to lovingly hold you. You absolutely adore it when he strokes your cheeks. The Soldat’s thumb touches the soft yet slightly sweaty skin of your face and moves back and forth. Chills run down your spine, and you smile into his touch. He suddenly pulls his hand away, and he strikes you roughly. You let out a cry as your skin stings and prickles from the hit.

He does it again and again until your tears soak his hand. Your cheek is practically numb from the pain. You can feel his cock leaking with cum, and you know that he’s going to fuck you, just like you want him to. “Did you forget your manners?” Winter harshly questions, and you quickly shake your head. “T- Thank you, Master,” you whisper to him, and he smiles.

“Master… Can I please go to the bathroom? Please, it hurts,” you beg to him, but he just shakes his head. “P- Please, Master? I’ll be a good girl, I promise!” you plead to him as your tears run down your face even quicker. He ignores your cries for relief, and he instead slams you onto the bed. Your mind is a mess as he combs on top of you, and the aches you have only get stronger.

The hand that was slapping some sense into you finds a new home on your stomach, right above your swollen bladder. He pushes down on your stomach slightly, and you kick your legs. “Shh, none of that, no, stop it,” he shushes, and you try your hardest to not let go right there and then. “Master knows what you need, okay? And right now, you need my cock, маленький кролик,” he tells you, and you sob.

The hand on your throat moves to his cock, and he grabs his thick base. The veins on the side throb with need, and in one thrust, he bottoms out inside you. You barely have the time to register what’s just happened. The painful stretch of his cock radiates throughout your core, and you dig your nails into the scarred skin of your palms. His tip nudges against your g-spot, and you coat his cock with your wetness.

Winter is buried inside you to the hilt, filling you up to the brim. His swollen, heavy balls rest against your ass, and you both try to get used to the connection. The painful stretch dulls down to an exquisite pleasure, and Winter loves the way your tight cunt gets used to his thick cock. He’s splitting you in two, but he simply does not care. His hand returns back to your throat, and this time, he squeezes the sides of your neck even tighter.

Winter pulls his cock out until his fat tip is the only thing resting inside of your pussy. He slams back into you roughly, and you let out a cry. Your jaw falls slack as the Soldat begins to fuck into your relentlessly. His balls slap against your ass, and your loud, short-lived moans fill the cell that you’ve grown to love. “Fucking hell, кролик, your pussy feels so good,” he growls, slamming into you even harder.

Your tits bounce with every movement he makes. The pleasure sears through your body as Winter hammers against your poor g-spot with each thrust he makes. “Master, please, I need to go really badly,” you beg to him as he continues to fuck you. He shakes his head in objection before pushing down on your stomach even harder. You let out a wail and try to squirm away, but you only worsen things for yourself.

“No, you don’t, кролик. The only thing you need is my cock,” the Soldat tells you, and you upsettingly toss your head back. “No, Master, please, I don’t wanna make a mess,” you reason with him, but he just doesn't seem to want to listen. “I know that, кролик, but you need to listen to me, okay? You don’t need to go; you just need me,” he growls lowly, and you can feel him pushing harder on your bladder.

“No- Wait, Master, please stop pushing on me,” you implore to him as a moan follows your words. Your silky, wet cunt hugs his cock as the tingly feeling in your bladder becomes stronger. You want to cross your legs and stop it from growing, but you can’t. Pressure builds up in your core, and you’re not sure if you’re going to come or if you’re going to make a mess and humiliate yourself.

“Let go, мой тупой ребенок, I know you want to so badly. You can make a mess, do it,” Winter urges, and you shake your head. “No, Master, please stop it,” you cry to him, but he only fucks you harder. One specific thrust hits your cervix, and you yell out in pain before even realizing what’s happened. Warmth trickles down your thighs and onto his cock. You let out a wail as humiliation blossoms from your soul.

Though there’s nobody else watching, you’re still embarrassed. And that wicked smirk on Winter’s face does nothing to help you out. The sound of it makes your back sweat, and you want the ground to open up and take you home. Your urine wets the sheets beneath you, and your tears wet your face. “God, look at you. You finally got what you wanted, and here you are, crying like a fucking brat. You’re so ungrateful. Do you even deserve my cum?” he questions with disgust on his tongue.

You struggle to nod, but you do it anyway. The last thing you need is to have your Master upset with you. “‘M sorry, Master, please forgive me,” you plead to him. You continue to relieve yourself, and he continues to fuck you despite the mess you’re making in his shaft. “Такой грязный, глупый малыш. Ты такой жалкий, ты же знаешь это, да?” he questions even though you only know one simple word of Russian. You moan loudly as you slowly stop making a mess and begin to feel your orgasm building up.

“Aw, are you gonna come, кролик?” Winter asks you in a condescending tone, one that makes you even wetter. The lewd sounds that come from your pussy as just as humiliating as what you’ve just done, but you don’t care. You’re too busy getting fucked stupid. “Fuck, I can’t wait to fill this pussy up with my cum; watch it leak out of you. You always do look prettier when you’re filled up with my cum,” he moans as his thrusts grow sloppy.

“Master, ‘m gonna c- come,” you whimper to him, laying in your own piss. “Go ahead, шлюха, come on my cock. You already made a mess on me twice, might as well do it for the third time,” Winter growls, moving the hand that lays on your stomach. He grabs your hips roughly and pulls you closer towards his cock. Hot flames lick at your abdomen as you hit your climax, seeing stars in your vision.

Your reality is warped as you can barely make out the look on Winter’s face. Darkness takes over your vision in the same manner as the clouds would take over the skies on those hot summer days. They would hide the pretty sun for a few minutes, and then they’d leave eventually. Your pussy clamps down on his cock tightly as you coat him with your juices, making him moan.

You wail loudly as you clench around him, making him groan. “Fuck, you like that, don’t you?” he asks without waiting for an answer. You nod as he fucks you through your orgasm, not even caring about how overstimulated you are. His cock slips in and out of you with ease and his thrusts begin to grow sloppy. “Tell me how much you want my cum,” he demands, fucking you even slower.

“I- I want your cum really badly, Master. I need it so badly; please fill me up with your cum!” you politely beg to you as you come down from your much-needed high. “Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up so nicely, кролик, you’re gonna beg me to fuck you again,” Winter husks as his balls tighten up. A string of Russian words leave his mouth, and you have to assume that it’s all foul language.

Warm, white ropes of cum paint your walls as he pushes deep inside your cunt while coming. Winter’s blue eyes squeeze shut, and you both moan at the feeling. He fills you up just like he promised, and you bite down on your lips. Everything has dried, and you feel disgusted, so you try to focus on the way his cum pumps inside you. His cock stays inside you, but he doesn’t soften at all, and you know what that means. Winter falls on top of your sticky chest with a sigh, and tears sting your eyes.

Though he says you need him, you wonder if that’s really true.

[astoryisaloveaffair]

Fix You - Chapter 8: Hopeless Wanderer

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader

Fic Masterlist

Read on A03

Spotify Playlist

Club Scene Playlist

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Chapter Summary: Lex’s impact becomes clear. You come clean to Frankie. Frankie deals with his security in the relationship.

Word Count: 13K...dear....god...

Rating: E, 18+

Chapter Warnings: Legal age gap (10+ years), cussing, alcohol, discussions of substance abuse, discussions of PTSD, smut, fingering, oral (f rec), P in V, rough sex, one or two light smacks on the ass, exhibitionist kink, BIG BISEXUAL ENERGY, angst, jealousy, Frankie talking more than he has ever done in his LIFE, Santiago being a menace

A/N: Hi guys I’m BACCKKKK! Thank you all for being patient, I took a mini-hiatus and then agonized over this chapter for like 2 weeks. It’s an emotional one and I’m a perfectionist *shrug emoji*. I truly hope you all enjoy this chapter, it’s a long time coming and it was one of the elements of this story that I’ve thought about the most and wanted to get absolutely perfect. I’m still not sure it is, I’ve been doubting myself this entire chapter, but I can’t sit on it anymore. Music choice is a huge thing at the end of this chapter because I’m so dramatic, I made a completely additional playlist for this scene, but feel free to ignore it. I’m also working on more inclusive moodboards so if this one is a mess I am so sorry. 

Thank you to my love @sharkbait77​ for beta, military spouse knowledge, and the constant support, as well as @whiskeyyourwaytomyheart​ & @disgruntledspacedad​! Love you guys!

Suggested Songs: “Gold Dust Woman” by Fleetwood Mac, “Lover’s Eyes” by Mumford and Sons, “Hopeless Wanderer” by Mumford and Sons, “Hercules” by Guster, “Blinding Lights” by The Weeknd & Rosalia, “Heart to Break” by Kim Petras, “Del Mar” by Ozuna, SIA, & Doja Cat, “Hillside Boys” by Kim Petras

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“You’re the babysitter right? I’m Lex. Frankie’s ex-wife.”

Before you can even utter a word, Gabi is struggling in your arms, reaching out for the woman in enthusiasm. “Mama!”

You clear your throat and set Gabi down and she runs to her mom’s legs, folding herself around them. Lex kneels down to hug her and give her a kiss before standing back up. Gabi remains by her legs. Your heart is pounding so loud you can feel it vibrating your ears and you have no idea why.

“Hi, yes, um - I’m the….babysitter.” You reach your hand out to shake hers and she takes it. She has a limp handshake, you note to yourself. That’s always been a pet peeve of yours. You force a smile and tell her your name. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs…”

“Lex.”

“Lex.” You repeat. “I’m...so sorry, I didn’t know you were coming over today. Fra-Mr. Morales didn’t mention anything.”

She squints at you under her sharp arched eyebrows, like she’s figured out some sort of secret about you. “Mmhmm.”

Fuck. I said his first name. You turn and gesture to the door to keep yourself from unintentionally revealing yourself any further. “Do you - do you want to come in? I think there’s some iced tea or something in the fridge.”

She smirks again, a repetitive shit-eating grin that’s already getting on your nerves. “No. Thank you for the sweet offer. I just stopped by really quickly to drop off Gabriela’s diaper bag. Frankie forgot it when he picked her up on Sunday.”

“Oh, okay.” You say, furrowing your brow. “But...Frankie already has his own diaper bag for her. It’s in the hallway.”

She lifts an eyebrow and tilts her head and you’re so mad at yourself you almost slap yourself in the forehead. You should have just said nothing. You drop your head and stare at Gabi, who has situated herself on the deck to watch the interaction with rapt attention.

“You’re very smart. I guess I should be happy about that at least.” Lex continues, gesturing for you to sit in one of the adirondacks as she moves to sit in an adjacent one. Moving around like she fucking owns the place. You take the seat anyways. “I’m sure you can imagine how it must feel as a mother to not be able to meet the girl who is watching your daughter, especially when her daughter mentions you as often as Gabriela does. I simply wanted to meet you.”

“That makes sense.” You agree, doing your best not to bristle at her calling you “girl”. You desperately want to get out of this conversation, be as polite as possible and gently send her on her fucking way, so you say what you need to in order to placate her. 

She leans back in the chair, scooping up Gabi and placing her on her lap. “So, why is my ex-husband keeping you from me?”

You meet her eyes, doing your utmost to remove any agitation or hostility from your gaze. “I don’t really know, ma’am, I honestly just come here and watch Gabi a few nights a week. I don’t really get into anything else with Mr. Morales. He’s rarely here when I’m here. When he hired me he just said it wasn’t necessary to meet you. I didn’t think anything of it. I figured you had your own babysitter for her.”

She seems mollified, heaving a sigh and softening her features, no longer looking like a vulture circling a piece of roadkill. “Well, then I’m sorry to have put you in the middle of this. I’m afraid Frankie has painted me as some kind of villain. I only want the best for my daughter.”

You nod. “I completely understand and agree. I’m sorry if you feel slighted that I didn’t find a way to reach out. I’m happy to supply you any of my certifications if you need or -”

She cuts you off again. “No, that won’t be necessary. I can see you’re a smart young woman. I apologize if I caused a disruption.” She places Gabi back down on the porch and acts like she’s getting up to leave, but instead leans forward towards you and looks you straight in the eyes. It makes you nervous. “Listen, I’m not sure how much Frankie has told you, but he has a long and serious history of making unsafe decisions for our family. I truly hope he mentioned to you that he is a cocaine addict. So, you can see why it makes me extremely uneasy whenever he has Gabriela with him.”

You inhale deeply, your eyes widening at her blatant disregard for Frankie’s privacy, reaching out to grip one of the armrests of the chair for support. What. The. Fuck. Anger, blinding hot anger sears through you so strongly that you can barely even make a response.

She takes your hand, misinterpreting your reaction as she continues speaking. “So, I was hoping you could do me a favor.” You meet her eyes again, but you can feel the rage and protectiveness boiling over inside you. This is fucked. This is completely fucked up and so out of line. Not that Frankie didn’t share with you his problems, no, but that this woman had the nerve to tell someone she just met something so incredibly private, so unbelievably personal.

She capitalizes on your verbal paralysis and pushes forward. “I would like you to take my number, and please call me and give me updates on how he’s doing. Should he do anything strange, or if he puts Gabriela at risk in any way, I want you to call me and I will come immediately. Okay?” She releases your hand and pulls a receipt from her purse, scribbling her number on it.

You are still in such shock at her audacity that you can only dumbly nod and take the paper, only snapping back to yourself when she stands to leave.

“Lex.” You say, and she turns around, hovering on the porch step. You're standing now too. “I want you to know that if Gabriela is ever in danger or at risk of getting hurt, I will call you. And the police. But that will never happen. Frankie is an amazing father, from what I’ve seen. And to be quite honest, you did not hire me. Frankie did. And I will not spy on him for you, because that is what you are asking me to do. I don’t know you. I’m not doing that. I’m sorry.”

Her expression doesn’t shift one iota, she only hums again. “Frankie. Yes. Frankie hired you. Yet I thought you said you were rarely around him? Still, forgive me for not realizing you had an allegiance.” She turns her head, unwilling to regard you any further as she reaches down and kisses Gabi on the head. “I’ll see you later, sweetheart.”

She turns and leaves without even saying goodbye to you. Gabi starts crying at the abrupt loss of her mother, and Lex leaves you to deal with it, getting in her car and driving away without a glance.

“Bitch.” You say, then slap your hand over your mouth. Gabi hasn’t even noticed. You sigh and pick her up, she’s wailing in your arms and you turn to the front door, the atmosphere of the afternoon ruined. You almost trip over the giant obnoxious diaper bag she left, like it was on purpose and she knew you’d fall over it. You huff angrily. Why the fuck did she leave this shit here?

You know why as soon as Frankie returns home. You hear the truck door slam, perking up as he enters the house. 

“Hey baby! Bonita!” He’s grinning widely as he sees you, eyes sparkling as he shifts his attention from you to Gabi, who is quickly waddling towards him. You get up from the couch to meet them in the entranceway, smiling softly as he bends down to reach for Gabi. The way he interacts with her always does something for you, you’re not sure what to call it. 

As he kneels, his eyes adjust to the shift in height and he quickly notices two gigantic diaper bags lying side by side where there normally is just one. He halts, Gabi held up in his outstretched hands, only remembering to absently pick up and hold her to his chest when she begins squirming in his grasp at the lapse in attention.

“What’s -” He looks back at you with a grimace before he looks down again, as if trying to make sure he’s not having a recurrence of shell-shock double vision. But it’s there, and his eyes slowly trail back up to yours in a hauntingly vacant expression you haven’t seen from him before. His eyes look empty. No warmth. No light. “She was here.”

It’s fear. You think. He’s afraid. You meet his eyes, trying to pour as much sympathy into your expression to him as possible. “Yea. She was.”

Before you can say anything more, he blinks several times and slowly puts Gabi back down, his lips pressed into a grim line. You can see his irises melt out into his pupils to form giant black pools of rage, and you suddenly realize why she left that diaper bag. Why he was afraid. She wanted to upset him. She wanted him to spiral. And that realization only makes you hate her more.

“Frankie…” You whisper, reaching for him. He closes his eyes and puts one large palm up.

“Did she say why?”

You lean back against the back of the couch, giving him some space. “She came claiming you forgot this diaper bag. I told her we already had one. She wasn’t too pleased. She really just wanted to meet me.”

He opens his eyes and glares at the wall, his jaw ticking as the anger works its way out. “Anything else?”

You hesitate for a moment, not sure if you should tell him. You don’t want to upset him more. But you pride yourself on your honesty and you never would want to lie or keep something from him. “She...told me about...the cocaine. And she asked me to spy on you. I told-”

You don’t get to finish, because he finally snaps in a jerk of motion. “God FUCKING. DAMMIT!’ He yells, ripping his hat off and flinging it against the wall. You reel back at the sudden release, even though you somewhat anticipated it. Gabi whimpers and moves back behind the couch. 

He breathes deeply and puts his face in his hands. “Fuck, I - I gotta go. I’ll be back later, I’m about to lose it and I don’t want to scare her. You gotta stay.” He turns around abruptly and rips the door open, turning first towards the end table outside on the porch that held his emergency cigarettes. He sloppily starts rolling one before he moves to leave.

“Shit.” You mutter. You don’t want him to leave, you want to help him. Leaving in a huff to be by himself won’t help anything. You stand in the doorway, turning back to Gabi. “Gabi baby, I need you to go to your toy box and play with something, don’t move from there, you’re okay. You’re safe. Daddy is just sad. Okay?” She nods slowly, the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes slightly dissolving at your words and you step through the doorway to stop Frankie from leaving, but he’s still there, blessedly still struggling to roll his cigarette in his shaking, anger-filled hands.

He finally gets it, thrusting it between his lips as he lights it, huffing the first drag out harshly and makes to leave down the porch steps, but you step into his way.

“Frankie, please don’t leave. Please talk to me.”

He glares at you for impeding him, but pauses long enough that you can grasp him by the waist and push him towards one of the chairs. “Sit down for a minute.”

He stubbornly plants his heels right in front of the chair and you stop with him, the weight of him keeping you from propelling further. Frankie grips both of your wrists in his hands, taking them off him with a gentleness you’re surprised he can muster in his current state.

“No, I -“

“Sit down Frankie.” You order, and he blinks incredulously at you before…sitting down. 

You pull the rocking chair across from him closer to the open door so you can look in on Gabi before finally taking a seat, the angle allowing you to see her between the gap of the couches.

Frankie takes another drag, exhaling forcefully and it seems like he might be calming down until he suddenly stands up again and grabs the lantern off the end table, flinging it at one of the columns at the far end of the porch with a haggard shout. 

“FUCK.” 

You say nothing, doing your best not to wince as the lantern frame crumples on impact, the plexiglass dislodging from the frame as it falls from the floor. He leans back against the railing of the porch in front of you, the smoke of the cigarette curling around his ears and hair, and covers his face with his hands again.

You crane your neck and check in on Gabi, who is doing exactly as you asked and trying to distract herself with some toys. You call to her and reassure her before turning back around towards Frankie. His outburst seems to have settled him somewhat. You give him a few minutes before speaking, watching as his breaths slow down, his hands stop shaking.

“Did that help?”

“Yea. It did actually.” He looks up, face pinched in a mix of different emotions you’re determined to find out. “I’m sorry if I scared you. I just...I fucking hate her.”

You nod. “I get it. She’s...definitely something.”

He hangs his head.

“But Frankie...I told her no! She can go fuck right off with that. I’m not going to spy on you for her. She was completely out of line to ask me to do that, and I told her so.”

“But now you know.” He looks away.

“Now I know what? That she’s a bitch?”

“No. That...I have a cocaine problem.”

“You do not have a cocaine problem. You are a recovering cocaine addict. There’s a huge difference, and it doesn’t change anything about who you are, the work you’ve done to change that, and how I feel about you.”

He looks up at you questioningly. “How?”

“Cause you are so much more than that Frankie, and it’s been a year and a half, hasn’t it? You told me that.” He nods, and you lift yourself out of the chair to stand in front of him, taking his cigarette and placing it on the end table before cupping his scruffy face. He’s clenching his jaw so hard you’re certain he’ll give himself a tension headache if he doesn’t fucking relax.

“You said you went to Narcotics Anonymous, those are hard drugs. I’ve known that. And I knew you would tell me in time. The time is just now, apparently.”

He moves his head to kiss your palm before grabbing your hands and holding them in his, meeting your eyes. “I don’t deserve you.” He husks.

“What?!” You scoff. “Please, no. If every person that’s made mistakes never got to have someone ever care about them again this would be an even shittier world than it is already.”

He huffs out a deep breath and pulls you into his arms, his head dropping heavily into your neck as you wrap your arms around him. You gently scrape your fingertips into the nape of his neck, twirling his soft curls around your fingers as he sags boneless in your arms.

After a few moments he lifts his head and presses it against yours, and you angle your face into that little missing patch of hair in his stubble to place a quick kiss there. 

“Feeling better?” You whisper.

“Yea, thank you.”

“Good.”

“Oh.” He utters, and you turn your head to find Gabi hovering by the doorframe looking at the two of you, fingering the propeller of her favorite helicopter toy, the back and forth movements of the spokes comforting her.  You quickly break apart from him.

“Daddy? Yoo sad?” 

You might die. You might actually pass away. The way his brows draw in and his eyes melt, it’s so fucking adorable, your heart and your organs and every single ridge of your brain has definitely turned to goo. You just know it.

“No, baby girl, daddy’s not sad anymore. I’m okay. Are you okay? Did I scare you?” He asks, kneeling down next to her.

She sniffles and shakes her head, ever the strong little girl that you were growing to love so well. “Okay, daddy.” She reaches for him and he lets out a shuddering breath, taking her into his embrace and stands, swaying her back and forth. He ticks his head towards the door at you, and the two of you re-enter the house. He sits on the couch with Gabi and presses small kisses into her hair, gently rubbing her back to comfort her. After settling her back down in his lap, she turns to you where you’re hovering near the couch. “Fower okay?”

You look at Frankie confused as he shoots a wink at you. “Yea baby. Wildflower’s okay too. We’re all okay.”

Well, if you weren’t a puddle before, you sure the fuck are now at hearing Gabi try to say your nickname, and you can barely process what’s even going on as she reaches for you and you’re pulled onto the couch and into a three-way hug by Frankie, because every single cell in your body is composed of millions of butterflies and your brain has completely stopped working.

You close your eyes and just feel. Frankie’s arm wrapped around your back and pulling you into his chest, Gabi’s arm across your waist, the crisp scent of Frankie’s cologne mixed with his sweat, the sharp tang of freshly smoked cigarette, the gentle puffing of his chest rising and falling. It’s heaven.

All too soon, Frankie’s arm drops from you and Gabi follows suit, and the three of you awkwardly untangle yourselves. You decide finally just to watch a movie hoping for some distraction, settling on Beauty and the Beast, and nestle tightly all together under a large throw blanket, only pausing to eat Frankie’s famous grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner. The excitement of the day clearly tuckered Gabi out and she falls asleep leaning on you much earlier than her normal bedtime. You give her a kiss as Frankie picks her up and takes her to bed, turning off the movie and stretching your stiff muscles from sitting in one position for so long. Frankie has a great couch, just the perfect amount of softness to sink in as you lay down completely across it and sigh heavily. What a fucking day.

You feel the trail of a rough and calloused fingertip gliding up your forearm, swirling around and grazing your skin with the nail softly as it meanders up your bicep, before Frankie’s whole hand cups around your arm.

“Mmmm that feels nice.”

It’s dark enough you can’t see him smiling, but you know he is. “Bed?”

You nod and allow him to take your hand and gently tug you up, pulling you behind him to the bedroom where you both collapse on the bed fully clothed. You roll to face him, the two of you angling towards each other in half-moons. 

He speaks first. “Crazy day.”

“Yea.”

“Thanks again…for…everything I guess.”

“I didn’t do much.”

“You did...keeping me here, calming Gabi, calming me...dealing with her.” 

“You’re welcome, but it was no big deal.”

“But...ugh.” He grunts. He’s never been great at explaining himself and his feelings, and he struggles to make you understand how much today meant to him. “It was to me. I just...I appreciate it.”

You reach out and squeeze his hand and he squeezes yours back, rolling to his back and bringing you with him to settle in his nook like you love. You nestle in, rubbing your nose into the soft cotton covering his pectoral muscle as you wrap your arm across his softer waist. The arm cradling your head bends and he wraps his forearm around you, large palm caressing small circles on your side.

“I want to….dammit.”

You lean your head up to look at him, though you’re more looking at his beautiful jawline from this angle, patiently waiting for him to continue.

“I want to talk to you about it but I’m not good at this shit.”

You hold him tighter. “That’s okay. Just...say whatever you want. I’ll listen.”

He nods, his lips twitching and you can see him swallow nervously, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he compiles his thoughts.

“She wasn’t always like that. It just...slowly started being that way.”

“Lex, you mean?”

“Yea. We met in between two of my deployments. Everything was so great at first, she was supportive of me and she got on with my friends, she stayed with me while I was away and would always write and send care packages. I’ve never been perfect but it never bothered her. She just...liked me.”

“It?”

“I would get sad sometimes, for no reason. And I can be kind of a dick occasionally.” He chuckles softly. “But she made it better. She always made me feel better. But then...we got married, I climbed the ranks, and the tours I was doing started...affecting me more I guess. She didn’t make it better anymore. She tried though, but I just. I dunno. I guess you can only kill so many people before it starts fucking you up.”

You bite your lip to stop from making a sound. You knew he killed people, he’d mentioned it once before. But this was the first time he’d ever acknowledged to you how bad it might have been, how it could have made him feel, and you don’t utter a sound that would interrupt his thoughts.

He takes a deep breath, all the thoughts in his head making it difficult for him to hone in on what he’s trying to say, so he just rambles, letting himself push out the words organically, hoping it will make sense to you. 

“When I finished, I came home and I didn't even know what was going on in her life anymore. I’d gotten so used to a specific way of living in the military, everything was structured and I got anything I needed. I didn’t know where to go or what to do when I got home. So I did what I knew, flying helicopters contractually. And then just interacting normally with people who weren’t actively trying to kill me, making small talk with people who had no idea what the fuck I’d been through...I didn’t know how to do it. And I was fucking miserable, all the time, and the things that worked before weren’t working. So I...I started using.”

He quiets, and you offer the information he already told you. “And you didn’t find much help at the VA?”

He audibly scoffs. “I didn’t even try, not at first. I wanted to do it on my own, I thought I could. It’s hard to explain...like it made me feel weak to need help. To ask for it. So I didn’t. And Lex begged and pleaded for me to do something, go to therapy or a doctor or whatever. I didn’t want to. I just...I got my first hit from another pilot on the job I was doing. And all of a sudden I just felt so good. Like how I used to feel. Just...happy. So I kept doing it, cause I didn’t want that to go away. It got pretty bad. But no matter how much she begged and cried, I couldn’t stop. And then I got caught. That’s...that’s why I can’t fly anymore.”

“How’d you get caught?”

“They did a random drug test on me and of course I fucking failed. I could barely even function for my shifts anymore. They suspended my license and I was fired.”

“Fuck. Is the suspension permanent?”

“No, it isn’t,  but I didn’t know that at first. Once I knew, that kicked me in the ass enough to realize I had to stop that shit. Lex was right, and I didn’t wanna lose her, and not even being able to fly...I can’t not fly. I can’t. I threw all my shit out and quit cold turkey.  Looking for help through the VA was kinda like talking to a wall, so I just ended up just doing it on my own. I struggled a bit at first, but things got better, Lex calmed down and I did some handyman side jobs to scrape by. I felt like maybe we could be happy again when she got pregnant. And then when we had Gabi…it was like, damn, this is what it’s about. This right here. Her. She was so perfect and beautiful, and I’d helped create that. I didn’t want to ruin her life. I wanted to give her everything but we didn’t have a lot of money. Then...Pope came home. He was working in Colombia to hunt down drug dealers or something. Asked us to do this little mission and I thought it would be a quick and easy way to get some good money for my family. She didn’t want me to go. Begged me not to. I should have listened…”

 “What happened?”

“Mission went South. Series of bad decisions and everything went to shit. And Redfly...Tom, that’s when he died. On that mission. Shouldn’t have even fucking gone. But...well, you know Pope. He’s persuasive. I just wanted to support my team. But maybe if I’d said no, maybe if I hadn’t...well. I feel responsible.”

“I’m so sorry Frankie, I’m sure you aren’t responsible, there was no way to know what would have happened. But I can’t imagine what it must have felt like to feel that guilt on top of everything else. Did you talk to Santiago about it ever?” He shakes his head solemnly, and you kiss him softly on his pec before letting him continue.

“No. It’s...hard to talk about. For us. We didn’t even get all the money we were supposed to. Barely any of it. What we did get we gave to Tom’s wife and kids cause we felt so bad. And...other things happened on the mission that weren’t supposed to happen. So I went home and was right back in the place I was before. Except even worse. Miserable and lost. And...fuck, I used again.”

“Oh, Frankie…” You murmur as he pulls you into his side harder. You slip your fingers under the hem of his shirt and rub your fingers around his hip.

“Yea...I just felt the worst fucking piece of shit. And I couldn’t get out of it this time. Stopped working, laid around and did nothing. Lex, she was just so disappointed, and when she was done being disappointed, she was mad, and she just stayed that way. She’d nag, yell, baby me, she tried everything but it only made it worse. She threatened to leave so many times, but I guess it never really seemed...real. Until she did. She took Gabi from me and left. Gabi was only six months old. Filed for sole custody and told the courts all about my drug use and how I didn’t have a job.  I was barely allowed to see her and I just got even worse. Up for days, sleep for days, not eating or drinking. It was bad.”

“Fuck...Frankie, how did you get sober?”

“Will. He came over and read me the riot act, got me up and made me go to rehab. I knew it was my last shot. I was in too deep this time and couldn’t do it myself. And I wanted it done for good, for Gabi. I didn’t fuck around. Went in there for three months and then I got out and started going to NA every day. Haven’t touched it again, told myself it wasn’t an option anymore. I needed to get Gabi back. I needed to be good, for her, and I guess for me too. Will knew a guy who worked at the airport so I got a good job there, I got a fucking amazing lawyer too and when I’d been sober for a year, I started getting visitation without supervision. But I wanted more, so we pushed and got joint custody. That’s when I hired you.”

You hum and sit up a little, moving to lay your head on his soft tummy so you can look at him easier. He looks down at you and smiles softly, exhaling a slow sigh as he trails his fingers along your hair. “Sorry. That was long.”

You shake your head. “No, thank you for telling me. It makes me feel good that you trust me with all of this. So...why is Lex still so angry with you? You’d think she’d be happy you were sober again.”

He sighs. “I don’t know. She just...whenever I’m around her she is just so bitter, so resentful and it always makes me feel bad. She always assumes I’m gonna fuck up, never trusts me with anything anymore. It feels like she purposely wants to trip me up.  I don’t...I don’t need that. That doesn’t help me. At first I thought I could win her back, but that was fucked. She’d found someone else and now they’re happily married I guess.”

“That sounds like it was really hurtful.”

“It was for a while, not so much anymore. Mostly now I just can’t stand the attitude. And she makes me feel guilty because she hates me for ruining her life.”

The two of you fall quiet for a few moments. A thought keeps prickling in the back of your head, something familiar. You struggle to grasp it, searching through your thoughts and memories like when you’re trying to find a small passage in a massive textbook. His fingers are absently trailing along your hairline, something your ex used to do when he wanted to calm you down. And then, suddenly, you have it.

You sit up abruptly and cross your legs, looking down at him. “Yea, she is mad. She’s mad and sad, and resentful, but mostly, she feels like shit about herself.”

He furrows his brow. “What?”

“Yea, see, she thought she was able to fix you before, and that changed. She suddenly wasn’t enough anymore. I'm sure there’s a lot of feelings tied up in that. Anger, resentment, hurt, jealousy that you’re doing it now on your own. It makes sense.”

He sits up straighter too. “Holy shit.”

“Yea and she became so desperate that she became controlling and that made it worse for you, and pushed her until she couldn’t take it anymore and now she’s stuck in that mode because that’s where she was last with you. It all makes sense!”

He grimaces, face pinching as if the pull of his muscles could draw his thoughts together as well. “But...but I did get better...eventually. If she’d just stayed a little longer…” He trails off.

“It sounds like the situation was just affecting her too much. And that’s the thing, she wasn’t going to be able to fix you. It was you. You were. And maybe you needed her to be away to do that.”

“Yea, Will always tells me she’s not able to support me anymore.”

“No. And if she’d stayed maybe you never would have gotten better. There’s no way to tell. So you shouldn’t beat yourself up about it.”

His nod is so subtle you might have missed it, just barely bobbing his head. You’re struck by how at ease and open he looks, his eyes hooded but still so wide, and you revel in the thought that this man has let down his walls so much with you. It makes you want to do the same in return. You feel your heart rate picking up at the thought of what you’re about to say.

“I get it...because....it’s happened to me.”

He raises his eyebrows, leaning forward and crossing his legs, propping himself up on his hands with his elbows on his knees. 

“I’m a fixer too. I see someone upset, see a problem and I want to fix it. It’s gotten me in a lot of trouble romantically. I find someone who’s sad and broken and get overly invested in them, try to fix them, and then when it eventually isn’t enough it absolutely devastates me.”

Frankie swallows, panic rising in his chest at the immediate implications of your confession. Shit. Am I the same? Is she just into me because she wants to fix me? His heart starts racing again, completely unbidden, and he struggles to keep himself calm as you finish.

You can feel yourself shaking, the fear and anxiety at finally sharing this part of you that’s been buried for so long with someone you were falling for and didn’t want to scare away. But you force yourself to continue. He shared with you. You felt you owe him some transparency back.

“My last boyfriend, I was so fucking in love with him. And I helped for a while, but then...I couldn’t. He was just unable to overcome his issues and it ended up getting really toxic for me. I got too emotionally invested in his mental status. But I couldn’t leave, I wouldn’t. I was convinced I could still save him, if I just loved him hard enough, even if it broke me in the process. But I couldn’t, we drifted further and further away from each other, arguing more and more and he ended up breaking up with me anyways. But...I honestly thought he was the love of my life. I was fucking devastated. It took me a long time to recover. And it wasn’t the first person that this happened with.”

You pause, noticing he’s staring at you with wide, panicked eyes, so you hurry to finish. “I told myself that I needed to be alone for a while, and I was. I said before to you that I probably could use some therapy, and I spoke from experience. I did therapy and some personal reflection and took care of myself. And now I realize what I was doing and I’m not doing it again. But I can say from my own history, you can’t fix someone. Not with love. Not with threats. A person can only fix themselves, for themselves.”

Frankie doesn’t know what to think, too many thoughts are swirling around in his head, jumbling everything you’ve said and only focusing and emphasizing the bad parts. The parts that might affect him. The parts that he already questions about himself already. He slows his breathing, trying to regain control of himself.

“What about me? I’m broken.” He mutters.

You roll your eyes. “Frankie, you’re not broken.”

He scoffs. “I’m a little broken.”

You grab his face and make him look at you. “Frankie. The point I’m trying to make is that you have to fix yourself. No one can do it for you. And you have, you’ve been doing that. I met you after you already did that work. I’m just...reaping the benefits.” You chuckle, and he smiles, relief at the small break in tension.

“You don’t need me,” You continue. “You don’t rely on me, and I am not doing anything to do it for you. I like you for you, and I liked you before I knew anything. Please believe that. I don’t do that anymore. I just...wanted you to know because it’s my past, cause you shared yours with me.”

He nods, focusing on the words coming from your mouth and not the negative thoughts in his head. You trusted him. You shared something deep about yourself with him. It’s been so long since he’s been trusted so implicitly, and suddenly the meaning of it overwhelms him with affection and he surges forward to kiss your lips with a force that almost winds you, practically sucking your lips into his mouth with its veracity. When you finally part with heavy breaths, he pulls you back down with him with a sigh. You reach up and cup his face with your hand, sliding your thumb along the muscles of his jaw. 

“Jesus Frankie, your jaw muscles are hard as a rock! Does it hurt?”

He grunts and shrugs, and you move off him and push at his shoulder. “Turn around.”

He rolls so he’s on his side facing away from you, and you lay behind him with enough distance to start rubbing your fingers around the muscles of the back of his neck, slowly working out the tension and crunchy knots as you move towards his jaw.

“Mmph...that feels good.” 

You kiss the center of his strong back right between the shoulderblades, trailing your nose up and down his spine. He hums and you can feel his muscles melt down, the stiffness of his frame settling and releasing into the mattress.

After a long while you stop, he turns around to face you. You wrap your arms around his waist and curl your body into his as much as you can. He puts his chin on top of your head and threads his fingers into your scalp, curling his palm around the curve of your head.

“Thank you. I owe you one.” He slurs sleepily without thinking about it.

“Hmmm.” You smirk, even though he can’t see it. “I’ll think of a way to collect.”

Frankie groans softly. “It’s not going to be a massage, is it?”

“Nope.”

“I’m not going.”

You just laugh, nuzzling into his chest as the two of you fall asleep.

Frankie wakes before you, eyes jolting open for no discernable reason until he feels the tingling flutters in his chest. The room is dark except for the lamp on the nightstand he’d forgotten to turn off, the windows still dark enough he knew it was not yet morning. 

He rolls onto his back and rubs his eyes, stretching his tight muscles as he realizes he’s still fully dressed in his jeans and t-shirt. The two of you had dislodged at some point, you were a couple feet away, facing him with your arms slightly stretched out in front of you. You looked peaceful. 

He’s envious of it, but now that he’s awake, he can’t help but think about what the two of you had talked about, unable to settle down and go back to sleep.

I find someone who’s sad and broken and get overly invested in them. 

I try to fix them. 

When it eventually isn’t enough it absolutely devastates me.

And fuck, he can’t help but wonder if you are doing it again, despite your protestations. He is a mess, a broken mess who can’t help but ruin everything despite how hard he tries, he knows that, and he wonders if you sensed that and were drawn to him like a moth to a flame. His heart clenches in his chest at the thought that he was just satisfying a fixation for you, that your involvement and attraction to him might be based on something deeply rooted and potentially harmful. It fucking hurts. And it scares the shit out of him. 

He winces and runs his fingers through his hair, rubbing his forehead as his hand returns to his side, exhaling a heavy sigh. 

Stop. Just...stop. 

He can’t think this way. He knows he can’t. He’s been taught and taught not to allow thoughts like these to overwhelm his logic. He takes another deep centering breath and turns on his side to look at you, look at your face, at the way you almost could be reaching for him, and reminds himself what else you said.

I realize what I was doing and I’m not doing it again.

You have to fix yourself. And you have, you’ve been doing that. I met you after...

You don’t need me. You don’t rely on me.

“But I do need you…” He chuckles softly, reaching out to tuck a stray chunk of hair behind your ear. Your brows pinch together slightly and your head shifts slightly towards his hand, as if you can feel him through your haze of sleep. He marvels at how you’re always so responsive to him, always in tune with him even if you aren’t aware of it. 

No. There is a connection here. And it’s more than just some sort of complex. You haven’t helped him do anything. You’ve just been there...supporting him. Never pushing, never controlling. Just a caring ray of light at his side that just exists there. That wants to exist with him.

But maybe both are true. And if they are, and he ruins it, then what? 

He will devastate you.

And suddenly, he needs. He just needs, possessively and desperately, to know that you're irrefutably his, at least for now. He needs to know and feel that he’s yours. He needs you to wake up, he needs to distract himself, he needs you to push these thoughts away because if he thinks about it, if he just sits here and thinks about how deeply he’s falling for you and the fact that everything, everything in his life he manages to screw up, he will fucking lose it. 

“Baby…” He whispers, caressing his thumb against your temple. “Hey...wake up.” He moves his hand to your shoulder, nudging you gently, your eyes cracking open to his hazy silhouette in the dim light.

“Frankie…” You mumble, smiling sleepily. He pulls his hand away and you turn and stretch. “Shit. Did we fall asleep?”

“Yea.”

He reaches out again, cupping the back of your neck as he shuffles his body to yours. You meet him at the mouth, slanting your lips against his briefly when he’s close enough. Before you can pull away completely, he’s kissing you again, soft little pecks intermittently interrupted by lip sucking kisses as if he hoped to inhale you, eventually rolling you so you’re on your back, his weight firmly pressed between your thighs. He’s breathing slow but heavy, his eyes darting between yours with such a blatant intensity you struggle not to look away at the rawness of it.

He kisses you again, nibbles your lower lip and wets his tongue against it before letting it go, and you tilt your head to meet his kiss more, reciprocating by sliding your tongue into his mouth. He whimpers, a sound so filled with desperation and longing you can’t help but cant you hips into his despite your grogginess. He’s already wanting, pressing insistently against your jean covered groin.

“Need you.” He pants in between kisses. And how can you resist when he sounds like that? His hips move rhythmically against yours, a slow rocking back and forth and you respond to his plea by pushing his soft cotton shirt over his waist, trailing your fingers along his ribs as and up around his nipples as he pulls it off. He shivers under your touch, fumbling with the button of your jeans, struggling to open them in his shaking fingers. You push him off, settling him on his back as you stand and remove your jeans, shirt, and bra, crawling up to him and straddling his hips to do the same for his own jeans. His eyes are large, round, eyebrows tilting up, almost looking like a begging puppy. Begging for a pet, begging for praise, begging for your love. He closes his eyes and sighs as you pull his pants and boxers off, his need for you standing proudly for your attention.

You clamber back over him, cupping his face with your hands and kiss him deeply. He whimpers again, fucking raw and slightly unhinged as you feel his cock brush against the fabric of your panties. You can feel his pre-cum wetting a patch against the cotton. He raises his hands and plays with the seam of them at your waist but pauses there, as if waiting for your permission. He’s quiet, so very quiet, more than he usually is when the two of you fuck each other.

“Cat,” You whisper, stroking your thumbs under his eyes and across his cheeks. “Are you okay?”

“I just need to feel you.” He pulls your hips down on him, moaning softly. “Fuck me, please.”

You stand and shuck off your underwear before swinging your leg and settling back over him, your folds sliding against the rigid line of his cock. You gyrate against him, watching his expressions shift and morph as he chases the feeling, letting you have complete control over his pleasure. It’s...intoxicating. You finally lift up enough to grab his length and tease it through your wetness, smearing it around even more before slipping him into you and sheathing him completely inside you, the perfect stretch of him making you gasp as you sink down flush with his hips. You both moan together and he reaches for your hips with his hands, but you grab them and push them back down at his sides. Something about his neediness stirs you, and you just want to give, Want him to just take.

“You want me to fuck you?” You murmur. “Then let me fuck you..” 

“Fucccckkk.” He groans, tossing his neck back, the chords of muscles and tendons heaving out as he swallows roughly. You start moving and he wriggles under your hands but you push them down harder. 

“You need me?” You husk as you begin moving slowly, rolling your hips against his. “Let me give you me, how I want. You just take. Let me take care of you. You always take care of me, let me take care of you.” He keens under your words, it’s so fucking beautiful hearing him at your mercy. It makes you feel powerful, like his fucking goddess. He strains against you again on impulse, lifting his hips to try and grind into you, his tummy puffing out with heavy, lust filled breaths. 

“Be good Frankie.” You take his hands and pull them over his head, pressing down into him as your chest brushes his. You can feel his forearms flexing under you as he resists straining against you to try and reach up to cup your breasts as your chests touch. He growls as you roll your hips, languidly building up to move faster and faster, periodically grinding down onto him and sending him so deep inside you your eyes roll back in your head. The hair above his cock creates the perfect friction for you to graze and slide against, and you feel yourself climbing, climbing so close to where you need to be, the sound of him muttering sporadically under his breath and his balls slapping the lips of your pussy each time you roll back spurring you on.

“Jesus Christ...you’re so fucking beautiful...feel so fucking good around me...” He cuts himself off with a loud groan as impale yourself with a particularly sharp thrust, your thighs trembling because you’re still just waking up and you’re already so close.. So fucking close at how he’s wriggling under you, the way he’s baring his teeth, the ways his eyes are shut so tight they are only small little half moons, the way your nipples are rubbing against his chest, the way every muscle in his body is taut as a drum to keep from touching you and letting you ride him to oblivion, the way he’s whimpering under you and FUCK you’re there, you push up and slam your pussy down onto him as you cum, swiveling your hips enough for his groin to press into your clit while the pleasure shockwaves through you. You slam your eyes shut as colors pop behind your eyelids, crying out as you gush around him.

You almost collapse onto him from the effort, but force yourself not to because you want to give him what he needs, give him yourself without having to work for it, so he can just feel you and release. You sit back up and bounce on him, sliding him almost entirely out of you then falling back down, your palms spread open on his chest as you ride him. His heartbeat is racing and you can feel a sheen of sweat gathering under your palms that you’re not sure is his or yours. You can feel yourself tiring and you push not to slow down, leaning forward slightly on your hands to help with your momentum. 

And he's being so good, his hands clenched into fists at his sides like you asked him to and his begs and pleas give you the strength you need to slide him into you just right, clenching around the drag of his cock.

 “Shit - don’t stop baby, just like that…” 

And you don’t. You lift and fall harder, faster, panting with effort at how good he feels as he looks into your eyes. Your mouth is gaping open in pleasure and your brows screwing upwards and he stiffens, throwing his head back into the pillow, practically shouting out your name as you feel him spurt inside you, his hips gaining their own autonomy and pushing up into you as he cums and cums inside your heat. 

You coo and praise him as he comes back to himself, pulling you to him to rest your forehead on his, your noses touching, your lips a hair’s breadth away as you breathe into each other.

“Fuck...that was…” He can’t even finish the sentence he’s so fucked out, and he huffs a laugh as you slip off him and collapse to his side. He wraps his arms around you, cradling you into him as if could absorb you into him, like he can’t bear to separate an inch from your warmth and your love. Because that’s what you tried to give him, your love, so he can feel it and know even if you can’t say it yet.

I’m in love with you.

Frankie chugs his drink. The music around him is thrumming to a level that is annoying, the bluish hue of the club seems to be vibrating and pulsating off the walls as it ebbs and flows with the lights. He hates it. 

He’d walked right into it and he’d almost laugh if he wasn’t so irritated. Santiago, Benny, Dali, and you had been trying to talk him and Will to go out dancing for weeks, and after Will had finally given in, Frankie was the last stronghold. Which crumbled the other night when he’d stupidly told you “I owe you one.” God dammit. You sure knew how to capitalize. He wouldn’t forget it again.

But maybe he needs to fucking loosen up. He’s surrounded by his friends, and everyone else is laughing and having a good time. The club is a new find of Santiago’s, finally taking the time to explore the neighborhood of his new place. He supposes it’s nice, an ocean inspired fusion club that he would never step into himself. 

You’ve been gone for some time, so he sweeps his eyes across the long line of the bar to find you. After Santiago and Benny had supplied the first two rounds, you’d demanded the next round was on you. He finally finds you, the shimmer of your champagne colored top reflecting the blue lights to make you look almost bioluminescent as you assert your place in line at the bar, immediately tensing when he sees what’s going on. Two men are talking to you as the bartender prepares the tray with everyone’s orders, and you’re waving your hands around frantically, your mouth opening widely to yell at them over the music. You look uncomfortable.

Motherfuckers. You’re getting hit on, he can see it in the way one of the men moves close to you and has the gall to place his hand on your hip and whisper in your ear. Frankie’s almost halfway across the table when he sees you pushing the stranger back, motioning over to the table and sweeping your arm in a circular motion while shaking your head. He wonders if he should just go over there anyway, but before he can move, the two men back off. The bartender finishes and he moves around the bar to escort you back to your table to serve everyone their drinks.

You scoot into the booth next to Frankie and kiss him on the cheek. “Hey baby.” 

He grunts and tips his head back towards the bar. “What was all that?”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, just some assholes who wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Need us to go beat the shit out of them?” Benny says enthusiastically. Frankie chuckles, pulling you in by the waist tighter to him.

“Nah, I took care of it. They only spoke Spanish but I think I was pretty clear. Might have insinuated to them all of you loved me and were my boyfriends though, to get them to back off.”

Santiago perks up. “All of us? That’s hot. You know I’d be your extra boyfriend any time, Gorgeous.” He wiggles his eyebrows. You laugh and roll your eyes.

Frankie sighs and rubs his face with his palm. “Now you’ve started it.”

“Started what?”

“Frankie never likes to share.” Santiago whines teasingly. 

“Shut the fuck up, I share everything with you guys, just not my girlfriend.”

You make eye contact with Dali, who is struggling not to laugh.

“Well she just said we were all her boyfriends!” Benny chimes in.

“To random men whose attention I don’t want, yea. I only have eyes for my Frankie. But you can all be my platonic boyfriends.” You bat your eyelashes then look over at Dali, making sure she’s okay you are including Will in this. 

Will laughs and slaps Benny in the chest. “We know darlin’, we’re just messin’ with ya.”

“I wasn’t.” Pope grumbles.

“Shutup Pope. Now who’s dancing?!” You look over at Frankie pointedly and he puts his hands up.

“No. Absolutely not. You’re gonna have to ask one of your ‘other boyfriends’.”

You glare at him. “You dance at home with me and Gabi all the time.”

“Yea...but that’s in private.”

Santiago almost trips over himself to get up. “I got you.” 

He grabs your hand and moves to the dance floor, Benny following closely behind yelling, “Fine, but I get next song.”

“Babe, you coming?” Dali turns to Will. 

“Not much of a dancer either Sunshine, you go and have fun with Benny.” She leans in to give him a kiss on the cheek before following the rest of the group.

{Blinding Lights by The Weeknd & Rosalia}

The song shifts to one you’re well familiar with as you weave into the crowd behind Santiago. 

“Ooooo, I love this one!” You’re thrown for a loop for a second when the lyrics come in with a female voice. “Oh nevermind, I haven’t heard this version!” You freeze momentarily until Santiago grabs your wrists, slowly starting to move his hips in a step you’re not familiar with.

“I don’t know how to do this dance!” You yell to him over the blaring music. From the corner of your eye, you can see Dali and Benny are dancing together. Benny is...a terrible dancer, but it loosens you up as you focus on Santiago.

“It’s called bachata!” Santiago yells over the thrum of the bass. “Here I’ll show you.” You patiently watch, swaying with the music as you memorize the footwork, eventually joining him in swirling your hips. He takes your hands, moving faster as you become more comfortable,  and quickly you’re dancing in earnest, twirling around and laughing with him.

Frankie can’t help but smile. It stings a little that he isn’t the one dancing with you, Santiago is an incredibly touchy and flirty person even when he’s not dancing. And when he is...well. But Frankie knows he’s not the best, and he can’t begrudge you having fun with his friends. Dancing with a two and a half year old around his living room alone is completely different than doing it in front of tons of people he doesn’t know, all who dance better than him. Even Benny. But despite all their joking and teasing, he trusts you with his friends.

You’re a quick learner, he knew you would be, and within a minute you are keeping up with Santiago almost effortlessly, pressed hip to hip as you clear a wide berth around you. Frankie laughs as you shriek out happily when Santiago abruptly twirls you too hard and you almost fall over, flinging your arms around his neck and collapsing forward into his chest in laughter. He pulls you closer, hands just skimming your waist as you move together, your hips swirling dramatically in a way that has Frankie adjusting himself in his jeans.

{Heart to Break by Kim Petras}

The song ends and melts into the next and you release Santiago, panting with the exhilaration of dancing with him. You nudge Dali and trade partners, she slips into Santiago’s form much easier than you and you can’t help but become transfixed with the way she moves her body so effortlessly.

Dancing with Benny is, like anything else with him, filled with boundless energy, confidence, and without a care in the world. He dances like a chicken who thinks he’s a swan, not caring how anyone is looking at him or how he looks, and you can’t help but be swept up in it as he pulls you against him, gripping you around your ribs as you move with him. 

You’re singing the lyrics, breathing heavily as you bounce to the chorus, spinning around enough that you see Frankie watching you out of the corner of your eye with a wide grin. You bite your lip as he watches, dancing in front of Benny with his arms hovering over your waist, feeling the music and the lyrics as you sing them.

This song is fucking terrible, Frankie thinks as he watches you, but his music lover’s heart can’t help but hone in on the lyrics you’re lipsyncing from your panting mouth, and he feels his heart twinge in his chest, a tight coil of irrational fear unraveling into a mass much bigger.

Even if it means that I'll never put myself back together

Gonna give you my heart to break

Even if I'll end up in shatters, baby it doesn't matter

Gonna give you my heart to break

I tried to fight, but I can't help it

Don't care if this is my worst mistake

'Cause no one else could do it better

That's why I give you my heart to break

He swallows hard and looks away. Stop. It’s just a song. Just a fucking song, you idiot. 

He turns to Will for distraction. “So things are going good with you and Dali?”

Will nods. “Yea man, I mean, I don’t want to get ahead of myself but...she’s...she’s perfect. Didn’t think there’d be anyone who could deal with my shit.”

“Me either.” 

“You ever scared? That you’ll fuck it up?”

Frankie heaves a sigh. “Constantly. Lately...it’s all I think about.”

Will hums and wipes his fingertips down his goatee, the pounding of the music all but silencing the sound. “The only advice I can offer is what I keep saying to myself. Try not to focus on it, because then you’ll psych yourself out.”

“Yea. Sometimes it seems too good to be true with how well she gets along with everyone, Dali too. Hard to believe I just...am allowed to be this happy.”

{Del Mar by Ozuna, Sia, & Doja Cat}

Will nods, taking a sip of his drink and the two of them look back up to where the rest of the group is. The song had changed without him even noticing. Santiago seems to have taken the opportunity to go to the bar to get more drinks for everyone and you’re chatting in Dali’s ear. As the tempo picks up, she reaches to your hip and draws you up against her, rolling her hips against yours.

You close your eyes and wrap your arms around her neck, sliding your thigh between hers as you gyrate together like ocean waves. You lick your lips and she winks, moving her hips with yours as she suddenly turns around and lightly grinds her ass against you, the scent of her hair blooming deliciously in your nose as you dance together. Your lips are so close to her neck.

“Oh...shit.” Frankie looks back at Will with wide eyes before following his gaze to you and Dali dancing against each other. Benny is staring at you two with an open mouth, eyes sparkling with absolute glee as he points dramatically trying to get his friends’ attention.. Frankie can’t help the way his cock twitches at the way you're dancing with her. Fuck. It’s hot.

“I better go in there and steal my girl back, or Flower’s gonna take her from me.” Will laughs as he stands, pushing into the crowd and meeting you and Dali. He slides his arm around her waist and Frankie sees you all smiling and laughing as he whirls Dali away. You look over at Frankie, motioning him over. He shakes his head, looking away to avoid your sharp gaze but you roll your eyes and exit the floor, swaying your hips as you approach the table.

“You’re dancing with me. Come on.” You order, grabbing Frankie’s hand and pulling him as you move to the beat, dragging him behind you into the crowd. You swing him by your arm so he’s in front of you, wrapping your arms around his neck as you begin moving your hips to the music again.

He clears his throat, affected by the way you’re moving against him. “I’m - not a good dancer.”

You giggle. “I don’t care. You’re my man and I want to dance with you.” You grab his hips and move him in time with you. Despite his protestations, he does catch the rhythm quickly and he pulls you closer, his hands resting on the small of your back right above your ass.

He hums, comforted by your words. “What was that with you and Dali.” 

You shrug. “Just dancing.”

‘I hope you don’t dance with anyone else like that.”

You push back on his chest a little, an incredulous look on your face. “Cat...are you jealous?”

“No!” He shoots back, a little too forcefully to be believed. He grimaces at the Freudian slip.

“Awwwww Cat...” You coo. “Is that what’s been going on with you lately? Why you’re all needy lately?”

“I’m not needy.” He huffs. “I just...well, alright fine. You just looked into her.” He pulls you closer, allowing you to feel his possessiveness in both his arms and between his legs.

“Frankie.” You soothe, wrapping your arms back around his neck and looking in his eyes. “She’s hot, but she’s my friend, nothing more. We were just dancing.”

“Do you...like women?” He asks.

“I do. But I only want you. I don’t want you doubting it any more. Please.” You can feel his heavy shudder of breath, hopefully a release of relief as he tilts your chin up for a kiss.

“All the people in the world to choose from then, and you pick me.” 

“Yea. I pick you. You’re mine. And I’m yours. Okay?”

“Okay.”

You kiss him again and deepen it, sliding your tongue into his mouth to tangle with his own. You feel him moan and you swallow it down, only breaking the kiss and turning in his arms, rubbing back against him as the song swells in it’s climax. You can feel him against your ass, hard and insistent, as well as the warmth gathering in your belly as you continue to grind against him, the jut of his stupid belt buckle against the small of your back somehow only making your lust build more.

I love the way that you smile

I love the way that you smell

I love the faces you make when you storytell

I love the way that you are

I love the things that you do

The things that you do when you think I ain't watchin' you

“I have to admit watching you and Dali was fucking sexy.” He rumbles in your ear with a groan as you press against him more. 

“MMmmmm yea? I knew you were watching. Will came running.” You giggle.

He places his hands on your hips and pulls you right up against him, you’re curved over and practically humping each other on the floor instead of dancing at this point. “Trying to make me jealous? You better stop.”

“Or what.” You tease, bending forward a bit to really give it to him, following the course as the song melds into a new one with higher tempo. 

{Physical by Dua Lipa}

“Fuck.” He growls. “Or this.” He grabs your wrist and tugs you off the dance floor quickly, shifting through the crowd until he reaches the bathroom hallway where he pushes you up against it and crashes into your mouth. He wedges his thigh in between yours and you wriggle against him, moaning at the friction against where you’re already wet for him. “Or I will fuck you right here in this club.”

He pulls away and stares at you, his forearms caging you against the wall. You stare right back, quirking your lips as you slowly, deliberately, start grinding yourself against his thigh, moaning lewdly and loudly in full view of anyone who were to walk down the hallway.

“Jesus….yea? You want me to fuck you here?” You whine at his tone, biting your lip and nodding, and he wastes no time in taking you to one of the one-person bathroom doors, tugging on it and cursing when he finds it locked and in use. You can only laugh at his growing frustration as he tries the second one, also locked, before he curses in Spanish and pulls you out the backdoor, through the club patio to the parking lot.

“Frankie!” You gasp breathlessly, “Where are we going?” 

He doesn’t answer, looking around and spotting a rectangular curling staircase jutting out of the back of the building next to the club, and he tugs you to it and pulls you into the shelter of the structure, gently pushing you back against the brick wall and kissing you ravenously. It’s drizzling very lightly, but you don’t care as you thrust your tongue into his mouth and resume rubbing against his front in desperation.

“What is it with you and doing it in public?” You laugh, inhaling sharply as he roughly flips you around so you're facing the wall and pulling your mini skirt up over your hips. You brace your palms against the side of the building, looking to see if you could be visible from behind the staircase to anyone that were to come out onto the club patio. You weren’t.

“I dunno.” He gruffs as he pulls your thong to the side and trails his finger through your pussy. “I think - fuck baby, you’re so wet - I think you just drive me crazy.” He crowds you up against the wall more as he pushes two fingers deep inside you, curling them against the spot that he knows drives you wild, slipping two fingers of his other hand into your mouth to keep you quiet. You whimper against his fingers, twirling your tongue around the digits as he continues pumping his other fingers inside of your heat.

“Gotta be quiet for me baby. Can you do that? Be a good girl and keep quiet? Don’t want anyone to catch us.” You feel like you might faint, your knees buckling as he pulls his fingers out of you, but he steadies you with his hands on your hips as he kneels, he fucking kneels on the wet pavement, pulls your panties to the side and absolutely buries his face in your pussy.

“Oh fuck!” You cry, yelping once more as he gently swats you on your ass as he nuzzles his face into your folds. “Sorry….” You whimper.

He pulls away. “If you aren’t good, I’ll stop.”

“No! I’ll be quiet! Please don’t stop!” You whisper, wiggling your hips back as you lean forward against the wall, desperately seeking his mouth. He chuckles darkly and pats you on the ass a few more times, each stinging a bit more before pulling you back to his mouth, lathing his tongue back and forth and around your entire slit, his hooked nose practically entering you as he pushes harder into you. He’s moaning against you, the sound is vibrating and joining the pounding rhythm that can still be heard outside the club. He takes one hand off your hips and wraps his arm around you as he all but pinches your clit over and over until you're quivering right on the edge, whimpering his name softly and he pulls away. That asshole pulls away from you completely and you almost sob at the loss, pressing your face on your hands against the wet brick wall.

“No….please…” You mewl. 

You can hear him fiddling with his buckle and you perk up, pushing your ass at him as you feel him drop his pants, the fabric of them ghosting across your thighs as they fall to the ground. He pulls back and pushes on your back so you’re angled more for him and starts rubbing his cock along your sopping wet pussy. You try to push against him but he holds you tight.

“I wanna hear you say it again.”

“Wha?” You’re barely present, your mind is barely functioning beyond the ability to form any speech, all you know is you need him, and you need him now. Nothing else matters. Not the rain, not if you get caught, not even if he’d wanted to fuck you right in the club.

“Tell me again...that you’re mine.” He snarls, pushing forward just enough for the head of his cock to enter you. 

“Oh fuckkkk. I’m yours. Cat - I’m yours please I’m yours please just fuck me.”

He pulls you up against his chest, tilting your head to the side as he kisses you sloppily, your tongues molding together as much as they can at this angle. It’s messy and the kiss barely lands, but you hardly care because that is when he enters you, and you cry out against his mouth before falling back forward to the wall for support as he starts a brutal pace.

He’s practically pummeling into you and you’re doing everything you can not to collapse or make too much noise, but the sound of his cock entering you sounds like it’s bouncing off all the buildings, and you can’t help but moan at the vulgarity of it.

“Fuck baby...shit.” He grunts as he reaches up and pulls the top of your dress down to expose your tits, your nipples hardening in the wet air as he reaches to pinch and pull at them with one hand. You’re about to cum, you’re literally about to cum when suddenly you hear the click of the door lever from somewhere outside of your consciousness and Frankie slams to a halt.

“Fish?” It’s Santiago. Fuck it’s always Santiago isn’t it, but instead of stopping and waiting, Frankie starts moving again, quietly sliding you up and down his cock as you press your mouth over the crook of your elbow. You know he’s smirking, you just fucking know it, almost daring you to blow your cover.

You hear the door click again. “They out here?” Will. 

“No. I don’t think so. Maybe they went out front.” You hear the door click a final time, not daring to uncover your mouth until the silence permeates the back of the buildings again and Frankie starts picking up his pace once more, his belt buckle rattling and his harsh pants tickling the back of your neck.

“Almost got caught there,” He whispers, “But you were a good girl, huh? So quiet. So good for me. Don’t want them to see you right? See me fucking you like this?” He’s rambling at this point and you’re too far gone to care what he’s saying, it just feels good and hot and so fucking dirty, the way he can pull things out of you that you didn’t even know where there. “You like this? Me fucking you in the fucking street honey?”

You keen and tense, your thighs trembling as his own thumps against them, the pressure he pulled you from building and building again until you’re back on that edge, your quiet whimpers reduced to sharp, quick, haggard pants. He feels you’re close and returns his hand to your clit, pinching and circling it a few more times as you slap your hand on the brick wall.

“One more time baby. Come on. Tell me again.”

You keen sharply, gasping out in delirium whatever he needs to hear. “I’m - I’m yours.

“Whose pussy is this?”

“Fuck - FUCK! It’s yours!” You cry, jolting up a little as you cum, your juices swelling around him as you shudder in his arms.

“That’s it baby, that’s it, cum on me. Cum around my cock in the street you filthy fucking girl. Jesus, fuck you’re so fucking tight.” He groans as you sag back into him a bit, your arms sliding down the wet wall. He wraps his arms around you, one at your sternum and one around your hips as he supports you through the afterwaves of your orgasm, mouthing and nibbling at your shoulder in what you know will make a mark. 

You can feel he’s losing his rhythm, his breaths coming out now in whimpers of his own, and you turn your head as much as you can with the way he’s holding you. “Cat...cum for me. Cum for me baby.” He gasps, pounding into you faster and faster, irregular and disjointed, and right as he tenses, right as you know he’s about to cum, you reach back and grab the hairs on the nape of his neck, pulling gently. “Cum in me and I’ll leave it there and walk around with you dripping from me.”

He cries out, shooting his frame up and thrusting into you three, four more times as you feel him bursting inside you, rope after rope of his cum inside your walls. You moan at the sensation, he shudders and drops his head back on your shoulder, gripping your hip hard as you both regain your breath together.

Everything filters back to your senses slowly. The feeling of Frankie’s tummy inhaling and exhaling against your back, the sound of the soft rain drizzling around you, the faint rhythm of whatever is playing in the club, cars rolling over the pavement in the street beyond, and Frankie murmuring sweet gibberish against you as you shift.

He pulls out of you, you can feel your mingled cum sliding down your inner thighs. You know he’s looking and he hums in pleasure at the sight. You pull your top back up to cover your chest, leaning back against him as he fixes your underwear and shifts your skirt back over your hips. 

“Babe.” He giggles. He actually giggles and you can’t help but laugh too at the absurdness of your commingled lust. “I gotta pull my pants up but I can’t with you falling over on me.”

You’re cackling hysterically now, turning around and leaning against the cold brick as Frankie pulls up his boxer and jeans, reassembling his belt in between gasping laughter. 

“We’re fucking ridiculous, this is ridiculous!” He smothers your laugh with a kiss, the curves of your lips still in a smile as you separate and continue to giggle against each other's parted mouths.

“Yea we fucking are...but we better get inside before they come out here and it gets even more ridiculous.” You nod and peck him a few more short kisses before checking each other one more time and slinking to the back door of the club.

{Hillside Boys by Kim Petras}

“Where the fuck have you been?” Santiago snaps as you rejoin the group at the table. “We were worried you all got mugged or something!”

“Uhhh bathroom.”

“Truck. Went to get something from my truck.” You both say at the same time, not slick at all.

“Why are you both all wet?” Dali interjects, smirking at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Uhhhhhh.”

“Alright, we were fucking, okay? Let's just go dance.” Frankie grabs your hand and pulls you back out to the dance floor, and the rest follow, laughing and catcalling as you go. You stick your tongue out at them as Frankie pulls you to him again, moving much more comfortably then before. The song switches again and you back up, getting the okay from Dali before grabbing Will’s hands and dancing with him. You can barely hear each other chattering to one another as the music continues to blare, but you don’t care. You’re happy, you’re surrounded by your best friends and your man. You turn away from Will and wrap your arms around Frankie’s waist, smiling up at him.

“You’re mine too.” You mouth.

He wants to say more. He wants to say, I’m fucking falling in love with you, you perfect, perfect girl, but something stops him, it’s not the right time, not the right place. But he feels secure enough to know now, soon. So for now, instead, he says: “I’m yours, and you’re mine.”

Chapter 9

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[phoenixyfriend]

Time Travel ft. Leia and Vader

(Helped by @atagotiak)

I was reading a bunch of different time travel fics, and my brain slotted in that one "Vader hands over the Empire to Leia and is now her most devoted sycophant" dynamic and mixed it with the "Luke and Vader time-travel and Vader does the right thing but only because it would make Luke sad if he didn't."

I landed on "Leia time travels to prequels era, but her least favorite family member has also traveled with her, though it takes him a few months to find her because he has less resources without the entire Imperial Navy, but he's still a scary Sith in all black with a breathing mask and intimidating cape."

"Tiny angry lady who wants to force democracy and her giant Sith father whom she hates but has resigned herself to pointing at threats like a tank who inexplicably loves her" is a delightful dynamic.

The first few months included a lot of concern about "why do you know so much about Sith if you're not trained or looking to be one" and then Vader shows up and calls her 'daughter' and she insults him and it's like "Oh. That explains it."

Council Member: We have a Sith in the Temple. Vader: Former Sith. Leia: Listen. He is your best chance against Sidious. Also, do you want Dooku dead? Vader can make him dead. Council Member: Your father i-- Leia, scrunching up her face: Don't call him that.

Like Leia is deep in conversation when the Temple starts panicking because Vader just. Showed up? He snuck in, somehow? So Palpatine wouldn't catch him on video entering through the front door? And people try to keep her away from the trouble, because there's an entire array of Jedi Masters to deal with this Surprise Sith, except she can sense exactly which Sith it is and once she shouts "oh you have got to be kidding me!" she just starts running and, well, it's Leia. Nobody can stop her.

(Leia does have less combat training, at least less force-assisted combat training, than the Jedi. But then the Jedi don’t want to hurt here here. She's not fighting her way down, either, she's just running really fast and all the best fighters already left. They had a head start. So Leia's mostly running past random padawans and the like.)

She shoves her way to the front of the group of Masters who. Well, they're certainly ready to attack. But Vader is just standing there. Doing nothing. Still intimidating as fuck but he's not doing anything.

And then Leia bursts onto the scene like "You motherfucker."

She hits her head on a clipboard and whines because UGH he's a walking WMD and they could REALLY use him against Palpatine but also. She hates him so much.

She tries to hand him off to the Jedi council but he insists that he will only take orders from Leia herself.

Jedi: Wait, what. Leia, completely ignoring them: Did you follow me here? Vader, through the mechanical wheezing: I have no loyalty to my master and no empire to serve. You are all that I have left. Leia: Me? Me? I'm all that you have left? You committed a genocide that killed all the family I had except for the twin brother you later mutilated! Jedi: Wait what Vader, going to one knee: I pledge my loyalty and blade to you and only you, daughter. Leia, ready to explode: I. I just. Jedi, some of whom really want to say things but are slowly realizing that they just accidentally acquired a Sith Lord by proxy: What. Leia: I hate you so much but I can't even get rid of you, you're too useful. Vader: I live to serve. Leia: Yeah. Got that. Fuck. Someone get him a full medical rundown, I don't know the last time that mess of a life support system was updated. Jedi, agitated again: WHAT Leia: Listen, I don't like him, but I'm not stupid enough to throw away the second most dangerous person in the universe when I can point him at the most dangerous person in the universe. Especially not if he's going to listen to me. Jedi: But... he's a Sith. Leia: Please trust me when I say this: you might be able to take him down eventually, but he will take dozens of you down with him, and right now he's... honestly, I'm pretty sure he's more depressed than malicious. Jedi: You hate him. I can feel it. Leia: Yes, but I can be professional about it. Vader: They have not yet d-- Leia: Nope! No talking! Not until I've had a chance to process this mess!

There is a whole lot of Leia snapping at Vader to stop it whenever he starts giving off vibes like he wants to take the most violent shortcut possible.

She is not the gentle hand that Luke would be.

Leia isn't a Jedi or working for them but she's wormed her way into being an ally. They don't 100% trust her, especially not with Vader just showing up and declaring her family but like

How do you say no to a WMD walking into your house and saying "I will fight the monster you cower from at night."

There's a lot of Leia snapping off an admonishment that sounds just a little too odd and then when questioned she just says "He knows what he did."

tbh I'm not sure how long it takes for them to tell anyone that Anakin is Vader. They might hold it off in hopes that Anakin can just retire to be Mr. Amidala after the war is over.

Well, Leia hopes. Vader just lets Leia make that call and then glowers at his younger self every time they're in the same room.

I do feel like Leia tells Obi-Wan the truth first

Imagine. Imagine a Vader who’s past still isn’t known. But has gotten somewhat comfortable around the Jedi (not really but the bar for what counts and comfortable for him is low). And Obi-Wan habitually banters with darksiders, right? If Vader’s guard is down for a moment and he, without thinking, references an inside joke...

Might be the most fun in terms of ways to tell Obi-Wan "We're time travelers and Vader is what happens if you let Palpatine drive Anakin off the edge"

If Vader has decided to pledge himself to her orders after destroying her planet, then fine. She can work with that. She's not going to be happy about it, but she can make it work.

The Jedi Temple hates having Vader anywhere nearby but he is actually very good at hiding himself from people, including Palpatine And for all that Leia seems perpetually irritated with her apparent bodyguard, he does seem to listen to her.

Jedi council: We still haven't figured out how to handle Dooku Leia: Do you know his location? Jedi council: Yes. Leia: [sigh] Leia: Vader, deal with it. Alive if possible.

(Leia does need to clarify an acceptable level of violence against the people protecting Dooku.) (She needs to clarify... many things.)

Leia always says "Vader" and one time a poor fool just asks why she doesn't call him dad and she snarls out "He is not the man that raised me, and I am glad for it."

Someone less foolish later prods more compassionately and she lets them know she was adopted and didn't properly meet Vader except in passing until she was nineteen.

"And then he tortured you." "And then he tortured me, yes." "Damn." "Didn't even find out we were related until a few years later when he chopped my brother's arm off." "You... wow." "I know."

At least one exchange that is L: You mean when you tortured me? A: He did what. V: I was not aware of our relation at that time. L: Not the point! I am fully aware of your interrogation methods and I refuse to let you be the one to acquire the evidence for-- A: Wait no go back he tortured you? L: Move on, please, we already have. A: That means I'm... oh Force, I'm going to torture my own daughter what in the actual fu-- L: We're moving on.

(“I end up torturing my own daughter” If Leia’s feeling especially spiteful I can see her saying “you mutilate your own son too”)

Concept: Leia is very free with traumatizing details of her past re:Vader and Anakin thinks that it sucks but doesn’t think much of it bc Sith. And then some time later he finds out...

(I love characters who use the traumatizing details of their past to shut down conversations.)

It's such a wonderfully horrifying concept for him to try to awkwardly comfort this girl he kind of knows because having a Sith for a dad sounds like it would suck and Leia seems nice, even if she's kind of weird and uncomfortable around Anakin, but he saw her flinch around a few other tall people wearing black robes the way she stiffens around Vader so maybe it's just that!

It is not.

Vader does get a significant amount of medical treatment. Including a bunch of "holy shit, that's a lot of drugs" and similar. There is so much lightning damage.

hnnng I'm just really in love with the image of Tiny Tiny Leia sitting behind a desk for some fancy negotiation, the picture of professionalism, while Vader just stands behind her shoulder, looming, glaring expressionless death at whoever came to speak with his baby girl.

Not that he would call her that, because she'd just hate him more and he's really not sure how to fix that problem, other than doing whatever she asks with no complaints and hoping she appreciates it.

Vader: [looks at children wandering by, has complicated emotions] Leia, tired of his shit: What now? Vader: I killed them, once. Leia, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath: And you're not going to do that again. No killing children. Vader: I know that. Leia: Great. I am... regretting asking. I am so very much regretting asking.

I do really like the idea of someone asking Leia once if she wants Jedi training and she says, no, actually, she's fully aware of the fact that she's angry little ball of hate sometimes, especially towards her bio father, and she'd like to refrain from putting herself in a position where she knows enough about the Force to Fall. She wouldn't Fall. But it does make people shut up.

[grapesodatozier]

so close to the real thing (closer than you think)

rating: explicit

word count: 6.8k

summary: Eddie's been pining over Richie for as long as he can remember. He loves everything about Richie; especially how much Richie loves touching him. It's a little inconvenient, though. Eddie copes with his pent up sexual tension by constantly checking a porn blog he's obsessed with on tumblr. This guy has the same type of body as Richie, he talks like Richie, his name is even Richie! It makes it all too easy for Eddie to pretend it really is Richie while getting himself off to all of the blog's content.

You'll never guess what he finds out when he starts sexting this stranger named Richie from his anonymous porn blog.

tags: friends to lovers, porn with feelings, love confessions, dom/sub dynamics, bi dom top richie, gay sub bottom eddie, the most oblivious pining idiots in the world lol we love them

notes: this is one of my more ridiculous ideas but I had so much fun with it lol. also as a note you probably should not approach people on the internet the way they do in this fic, but they're just v enthusiastic and everything here is v consensual!! still tho definitely don't take this indulgent fic as a guide on how to approach real people online lmao. okay have fun!!

read on ao3 or below!!

notsfw under the cut

Eddie Kaspbrak’s friends were his entire world; time spent with them meant everything to him. But he also really valued his alone time. He’d always been the sort who needed time to just sit on a grassy hill and watch the trains go by, to catch up on comics in his room, to get lost in Netflix shows or even just his thoughts as he moseyed around his apartment—one he live in by himself, for when these moods hit. He needed time to himself to unwind. And sometimes he unwound by scrolling through some porn blogs on tumblr with his hand in his pants.

There was one blog that he was particularly fond of. There were other blogs more catered to his personal interests, namely blogs that didn’t feature women like this one did. But there was a good balance of genders represented, so Eddie figured he could just scroll past those posts. This guy was worth it. His pictures were ridiculously hot, and his dirty talk was even hotter.

Also, his name was Richie. Which Eddie refused to acknowledge as part of the draw.

It was harder to ignore tonight. He’d been out with the losers, and Richie had just been so touchy. And there was something about the way he'd been talking; his voice was lower than normal, slower in a way that made Eddie’s stomach flip. And his touches had lingered, his hand squeezing Eddie’s hip slow, then lazily brushing against his ass as he dropped it. Eddie could hardly take it. He brushed it off as Richie just being tired from work, but god, Eddie wanted it to mean more. The hardest part was hiding how much he wanted Richie to keep doing it.

There were so many things Eddie wanted Richie to do to him. He wanted Richie to touch him harder, to grab him by his hips with both hands. Richie’s hands were so big; Eddie just knew Richie could manhandle him so easily, so roughly. He wanted to know what it would feel like to have Richie’s hands all over him, grabbing at his ass and his thighs, holding his wrists down, making him feel so small. While Eddie would never admit it, huffing at every short joke Richie made, but he loved being shorter than Richie. He loved how safe he felt when Richie held him. And he was dying to know how small he would feel with Richie looming above him, or sitting in Richie’s lap, bouncing on his cock. He wanted to hear Richie talking to him in that low, slow voice, with that condescension Eddie did his best to pretend not to be affected by. He wanted Richie to whisper in his ear and call him all those pretty names he always dropped so casually, all those sweet ones and also ones that were a lot meaner. He wanted Richie to want him.

But it was easier to think about it than to ask for it. He knew Richie had way more experience than him. Well, okay, maybe not way more necessarily, but they were starting their third year of college, and he hadn’t wasted any time. Eddie, on the other hand, hadn’t done anything more than hand stuff with someone else. The guys he’d hooked up with were nice enough, and hot enough, but they just… weren’t Richie.

He supposed this guy on tumblr wasn’t Richie either, but at least he was everything else Eddie wanted. None of his hookups had been so, well, dominant, and that was this guy’s whole thing. He was dominant and a top and into guys that looked like Eddie. He even kind of talked like Richie, and he was apparently pining over his best friend, just like Eddie was. It had him completely smitten. Plus, internet-Richie’s crush had brown eyes like Eddie, and he ran track, just like Eddie did. Internet-Richie had posted once about his dick getting hard watching his friend at his track meet, and Eddie had come so hard that night, his track shorts around his ankles, imagining his Richie thinking those things about him.

Eddie was in bed now, in nothing but his boxers and one of Richie’s old shirts that had been Eddie’s for a while now. Still reeling from the way Richie had been acting that night, he logged into his porn account on his phone and scrolled through his dash for a grand total of thirty seconds before going immediately to internet-Richie’s blog. A thrill went through Eddie’s body when he saw that he had just posted. He’d written, “god my friends gonna fuckn kill me with that ass, i wanna plow him so bad” then reblogged it and added, “reminder that my asks and dms are always open if any pretty needy little subs need help getting off. please come be sluts in my messages.” Eddie’s breath caught in his throat when he saw that there was a picture, too, one of him gripping his hard cock, his boxers pulled down just enough for Eddie to see the dark hair around the base of his cock. Eddie moaned at the sight. His cock was so nice, so long and thick and pink. And fuck, his fingers. They were so long and slim, almost as nice as his-Richie’s.

Eddie scrolled a little farther down, his heart racing. There were a lot of reblogs, but some original posts here and there, things like, “what i wouldn’t do to have a pretty guy drooling all over my cock rn,” and, “in the mood to get someone dick drunk. wanna fuck a someone so hard they forget their own name.” One that made Eddie nearly choke said, “want someone i can pump my come into whenever i want, over and over again. want a sub i can keep full of my come all the fuckn time.” That post had Eddie getting out his lube.

It also had him thinking about internet-Richie’s most recent post, his post about his DMs being open.

Eddie bit his lip and thought about it. He’d sent internet-Richie some asks before from his porn blog (his blog didn’t have his name on it, just the teddy bear emoji, since he privately thought the teddy/Eddie rhyme was fun and clever, and also it was cute), and he’d seemed plenty happy enough to respond then. Still, it felt like a much bigger step to DM him, to talk to him just one on one. But the more he read his posts, the more he thought about his-Richie and how he’d touched Eddie that night, the easier it was to convince himself to shoot his shot with this stranger.

Eddie just messaged him a simple, “hi,” with a heart emoji. It was innocent enough, but his heart was still racing.

Internet-Richie responded a lot faster than Eddie was expecting. Honestly he hadn’t been expecting a response at all. But he said:

hiya cutie (; ive been hoping youd message me

Eddie flushed. He couldn’t help but hear cutie in his-Richie’s voice��especially given how often Richie used the nickname. really? he typed back.

fuck yes, ur cute little messages make me so hard. i can tell ur a pretty little thing just from the way you type

Eddie was blushing deep. Pretty little thing. That was hotter than it should’ve been. He wanted his Richie to talk to him like that, in that deep, sleepy voice.

there’s no way you can tell that from some messages :P, Eddie sent.

His heart stopped at the next messages internet-Richie sent.

oh, u dont think so?

why dont u send me some pics to prove me wrong (;

Oh my god, Eddie thought, his breath coming short. His head swam at the thought of sending this guy nudes, of showing himself off to someone who clearly wanted to see him, who would know how to take care of him and fuck him the way he liked, a guy with his crush’s fucking name and body type and hands. It had Eddie’s cock hard and leaking, and he slowly slid a finger inside of himself.

But just because the thought turned him on didn’t mean he was gonna send this stranger what he wanted so easily, even if he desperately wanted to.

you’d like that, wouldn’t you?

He fingered himself open as he waited for a response, working his way up to two fingers. It was nearly impossible to ignore his cock, but he didn’t want to come before the conversation even had a chance to start.

fuck ya i would, internet-Richie responded. Then, in a second message, whats wrong baby? you shy? ill show u mine ;)

Eddie's breath caught. God, this guy even made stupid shit sound hot, just like Eddie’s Richie. This was unreal.

i’ve seen yours, Eddie pointed out.

ya and you musta liked it if ur messaging me rn

Eddie bit his lip. ...maybe

aw thats cute sweetheart. u know i can see all the needy little tags you add when u reblog my stuff right?

Eddie blushed. He’d kind of always hoped he’d read them, but he never thought he actually did. i didn’t know you read those

oh ya, read them, jerk off to them. bit of a size queen, aren’t you? ;) it’s cute. makes me so fuckn hard when u talk abt how u want me to fill you up

Eddie whimpered out loud, sliding a third finger into himself. Fuck, he wanted that cock inside of him so bad. But right now one of his toys would have to do, once he was stretched out enough. He sped up his fingers, getting impatient. Gathering up all of his horny courage, he sent, show me.

what, no please? only good boys who use their manners get dick pics babydoll

Eddie pouted and whined to himself, making quick work of sliding his hot pink vibrator inside of himself—well, as quickly as he could without hurting himself. He moaned as it filled him up, making pleasure spread deep through his body. Slowly pumping it in and out, he reached for his phone. please, he typed, please let me see? wanna know what to picture while i fuck myself with my vibrator. He even added the wide eyed pouting emoji to really milk the whole begging thing. He knew he’d been playing a little coy, but now with the way internet-Richie was talking to him he was getting desperate.

well fuck baby since ur begging ;)

Eddie held his breath as he waited for the picture, slowly rocking his toy in and out, savoring the feeling. He wished it was Richie doing it, wished it was his cock. The lines between which Richie blurred; he wanted to get fucked by either of them, both of them.

What Eddie received when his phone lit up was not a picture, but a video. It was short, just a few seconds of Richie’s hand dragging wetly, smoothly over his cock, but it had Eddie drooling. The room was dark, so he’d used a flash, and it made the mix of what Eddie assumed was precome and spit glisten as the swollen head of Richie’s cock disappeared and reappeared from behind his fingers. Eddie must’ve played it at least five times, fucking himself a little faster, before remembering to say something back. And to take a video of his own. fuck, I want you so bad, want you to fucking ruin me, he wrote back. A part of him couldn’t believe how openly desperate he was being, but he found that he liked it; he liked the way it made him blush, he liked the way it felt to beg, to ask for what he wanted.

Richie’s response came fast: show me kitten. show me how you want me to fuck your pretty little ass.

Eddie moaned at the pet name; casual little nicknames were such a weakness for him. He was already so far gone, just picturing Richie’s cock inside of him, picturing him stroking his cock to thoughts of Eddie. The attention had his cock hard and leaking as he thrust his vibrator even deeper inside of himself, pumping it in and out a few more times before rolling over and getting on his hands and knees. It was hard to take a video from this angle, but he wanted to show off his ass and hide his face. Plus, there was something so hot about having his ass in the air and his face shoved in his pillow, looking like the perfect image of someone desperate to be fucked. He loved the way it made him feel, loved the thought of being so open for someone. For Richie.

He ended up shooting a short video as well, about ten seconds of him sliding his vibrator slowly in and out of himself, letting out soft little moans. He was pretty pleased with the way it turned out, his hole pink and smooth and wet as it stretched around his toy. The angle was a little weird, showing a lot of his room once or twice when his hand slipped a little, but overall he thought his ass looked amazing, if he did say so himself. He sent it and said, feels so good. do you want me to go faster?

As he sent it, he got settled on his back, forcing himself to go slow as he fucked himself while he waited for internet-Richie’s response. It was taking longer than before, and Eddie was getting antsy; it was so hard to drag it out, to not get ahead of himself. But whatever Richie was doing, Eddie knew it would be worth the wait. Still, he pouted as his cock ached, begging for attention.

He almost jumped out of his skin when he heard a knock at the door.

He groaned to himself and stayed put, fucking himself even slower as he waited for whoever it was to leave. But then the knocking continued, loud and incessant and obnoxious, and Eddie knew exactly who it was. He also knew he wasn’t going to go away any time soon, which honestly made him smile and blush. Richie had terrible timing, but Eddie would never be upset to see him.

Reluctantly, he slowly slid the toy out and pulled on his shorts, leaving his shirt off. He still had a pretty obvious boner, but his horny brain did not mind the idea of Richie seeing it. So he strode lazily down the hall, shouting a performatively annoyed, “I’m coming!” Finally, he opened the door, cocking his hip to the side and giving Richie an expectant look. “Can I help you?” he asked, a small smile dancing around the corner of his lips. He had to fight off a smirk at the wide eyed look Richie gave him as he ran his eyes over Eddie’s body.

“Fuck,” he muttered lowly, his eyes trained on Eddie’s cock, which was getting even harder the more Richie stared. Eddie bit his lip and grinned a little, making doe eyes at Richie. But Richie didn’t meet his gaze—instead he brushed past Eddie, his mouth still hanging open as he made his way urgently toward Eddie’s bedroom.

“Richie?” Eddie asked, a little let down that Richie’s hands weren’t all over him right now. But hey, if he was heading to Eddie’s bedroom he figured that was at least the right direction. He closed his front door and followed Richie into his room, where he found him staring at the bright pink vibrator on the bed. As confident and horny as Eddie was feeling, that still made him blush. He was only human. Crossing his arms, he said, bashful now, “I was kind of in the middle of something.”

Richie looked over at him, his cheeks bright red under his freckles. Then he got a glimmer of that trademark shit-eating grin on his face. “Eds, you fucking slut,” he said, sounding both delighted and breathless. “You are so fucking hot.”

Eddie flushed and tried not to squirm, but he couldn’t help but press his legs together, his eyes brightening. Fuck, was this actually happening? Shit, he needed to think of something witty to say. “You gonna do anything about it?” Okay, that kinda sounded like a corny porn, but he had to give himself credit for even being able to form words just after his lifelong crush and personal wet dream had just admitted his attraction to him.

“I think I already have been,” Richie said, still grinning.

Eddie cocked an eyebrow at him. He couldn’t help but smile back. “Oh yeah? How do you figure that?”

Eddie was expecting a confession. He was expecting something along the lines of you think I don’t notice how you look at me? or did you really think those were casual touches earlier? What he was not expecting was for Richie to unlock his phone and hold it up, showing Eddie the video he had just taken, the video he’d sent to internet-Richie.

Oh. Oh. Oh fuck.

“Oh my god, that’s you?” Eddie cried in disbelief.

“You’re telling me you didn’t recognize this dick?” Richie asked, swaggering over to Eddie, clearly enjoying himself.

“How did you recognize it was me?”

Richie nodded toward the Thundercats poster on Eddie’s wall, then to the model train that sat on his dresser. “What other guy has decor like that and the ass to match?”

Eddie grinned and shook his head. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Well pardon me for not being especially eloquent when I’ve just learned that the guy I’ve been masturbating to since I learned how to and been in love with for even longer has been masturbating to me too.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide, all thoughts of getting fucked leaving for a moment. “You’re in love with me?” he asked, his voice as soft as his smile.

Richie was not a bashful person, but the little laugh he let out just then was close to it. “Have been my whole life, but thanks for finally noticing.”

Eddie shook his head and stepped closer, until he had to crane his head up to meet Richie’s gaze. “I love you too.”

Richie’s eyes widened behind his thick frames. Eddie had only seen that look in Richie’s eyes a few times before, but he never wanted to lose sight of it again. He always wanted Richie to look at him like that. But then Richie was closing his eyes and leaning down. It only took Eddie a second to get with the program, drinking in the moment just a little longer before letting his own eyes fall shut as he pressed his lips against Richie’s.

It started gentle enough, if deep and passionate and intentional. But then Richie’s hands were on Eddie’s bare waist, skin against skin, and Eddie was gasping into Richie’s mouth, his hands coming up and resting against Richie’s chest. He curled his fingers into Richie’s shirt as Richie ran his tongue over Eddie’s lips, just before pulling away. He laughed at Eddie’s indignant little whine.

“Oh, you mean you don’t want me to take off my shirt right now?” he smirked as Eddie tried to pull him closer by the offending fabric. Huffing, Eddie conceded and let go long enough to let Richie pull the shirt off over his head.

“Oh,” he said softly, his voice a little, awed moan as he drank in Richie’s chest. It wasn’t like Richie had never been shirtless in front of Eddie before, but Eddie had never felt like he was allowed to really look at Richie all those times. But now he could; now he could touch. And he did, running his fingers over Richie’s smooth, warm skin, over his acne scars and blackheads and freckles. “Fuck, Richie,” he sighed before pressing his lips to Richie’s collarbones, trailing them all over Richie’s beautiful chest.

Richie gave a breathless, almost shy laugh as he stroked Eddie’s hair. “Damn, Eds, never pegged you as a tits guy.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Eddie giggled, bringing his lips back to Richie’s. They both smiled into it, getting lost for a moment as Richie’s hands slid slowly down Eddie’s sides. His hands lingered on Eddie’s hips for a moment before he slid them further down and grabbed at Eddie’s ass, making him gasp.

“Is that any way to talk to the guy who’s about to rail you ‘til you can’t walk?”

“What’re you gonna do about it?” Eddie asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Spank me?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Richie smirked. He gave Eddie’s ass a playful smack, making Eddie gasp again and fall into him, needing more. Richie’s voice was dripping with adoration as he purred, “Little brat,” and pulled Eddie against him, kissing him again. Eddie went with it easily and happily parted his lips to let Richie lick into his mouth. Richie had one hand gripping Eddie’s jaw and the other on his ass, touching him in a way that exuded a command Eddie was desperate to follow. God, Eddie knew Richie had big hands, but they felt huge on him like this. It was dizzyingly hot. And the way Richie’s tongue was teasing his had Eddie’s knees going weak. His dick was throbbing in his shorts, aching to finish what he’d started, what had been interrupted. When he thought about it all—about playing with himself for Richie, about the video Richie had sent him, about all those things Richie had said about filling Eddie up—he felt himself clench down on nothing, desperate to get fucked. Desperate to feel Richie’s cock so deep inside of him.

“Richie,” he whined into the kiss, pulling on Richie’s belt loops, “please.” He pressed himself urgently against Richie and rutted shamelessly against his thigh.

“Fuck, you’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?” His voice was cocky and teasing, but there was an apparent undercurrent of wonder there as well.

Eddie shoved his face into Richie’s neck and whined, grabbing onto Richie’s wrists without even knowing what his goal was. “Richie,” he whimpered, sounding pitiful and ruined already.

“What do you want, baby?” Richie’s voice made it clear that he was enjoying seeing Eddie this wrecked, and that just made Eddie even harder. “Come on, tell me, use your words.”

Eddie squirmed as Richie held him close, but still not touching him in any relieving way. “I need you inside,” Eddie said, his voice high and soft as he squirmed in Richie’s grip. “God, please, Richie, need you to fuck me. Fuck me so hard I can’t even think. Fuck me like I’m your little toy.”

Eddie could hardly believe the words coming out of his mouth, and judging by the gasp he heard Richie let out, he’d caught Richie off guard too. But if the hard bulge in his jeans that brushed up against Eddie was any indication, he was apparently just as turned on as Eddie was. Besides, Eddie knew from his blog that Richie was really into that sort of thing too—and, apparently, really into the idea of doing those things with Eddie. The realization that Richie had been saying all those filthy things about him had him grinding against him with even more fervor, kissing his neck with a heated confidence. Richie moaned, and Eddie could feel the warmth of it spreading through him. “Yeah, sweetheart? You want to feel me inside you? You think you’re ready for me?”

“Yes,” Eddie sighed, looking up at Richie with wide, desperate eyes. He shivered at the new look in Richie’s eyes, the blue nearly entirely eclipsed by how wide his pupils were. He looked hungry for Eddie; Eddie wanted to feel it. “‘M ready, Richie, please, so open for you.” He looked to the toy on his bed pointedly, but Richie only gave a deep laugh.

“Oh honey, that’s cute that you think that little thing is gonna have you ready for my cock.” Eddie’s breath caught; that toy wasn’t small. Before he could gather his scattered brain enough to react, Richie was scooping him up and tossing him on the bed, the toy falling forgotten to the floor. Richie moved Eddie onto his back, and Eddie went happily, pliantly. Richie’s fingers were cool against Eddie’s burning skin as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of Eddie’s shorts, slowly dragging them over his hips and down his legs, tossing them to the floor. Eddie’s cock was dripping with precome, his chest flushed a bright red as he squirmed under Richie’s gaze. Eddie been dreaming of Richie manhandling him like this for he didn’t even know how long; he couldn’t help the way he reacted. And he especially couldn’t help the pleased little sound he made when Richie murmured, “God, you’re gorgeous, Eds.” Then Richie was grabbing him by the ankles, gently but firmly spreading Eddie’s legs, and Eddie let out the most pathetic, genuine moan he’d ever heard. “Fuck, baby, you sound pretty. You like when I spread you open?” Richie asked. He was smirking down at Eddie, but Eddie could see how flushed he was, could see the thrilled awe in his dark, hungry eyes as Eddie nodded.

“Richie, please,” Eddie whimpered. “I need you so bad.” He sat up, reaching for Richie’s belt, but Richie easily pressed him back against the mattress with a large hand on the center of his chest. The confidence in Richie’s dominance took Eddie’s breath away, and he stayed right where he was, nice and obedient, as he watched Richie get off the bed and slowly undo his belt, then his button and zipper. He took his time dragging his jeans and boxers off, enough time to let Eddie’s eyes linger on the reveal of the dark hair under Richie’s waistband. Then Richie’s cock was bouncing up against his stomach, hard and flushed and fucking long. Eddie moaned at the sight and fisted the sheets underneath him. He wanted so badly to get his mouth on Richie, to breathe him in and be nice and good for Richie on his knees. But he was also desperate to get fucked; his hole clenched down on nothing at the thought, and then it was all he could think about again. “Richie,” he repeated, whining now as he reached for him. “Stop being such a tease.”

Richie laughed as he moved easily out of Eddie’s grip and climbed on top of him. Eddie gasped softly at the sight of Richie above him, his dark curls surrounding his face, his full, pink lips pulled into the most beautiful smile Eddie had ever seen in his life. He ran his hands over Richie’s chest and sides, marveling at the fact that this was really happening. Then, his eyes flickering down, he tentatively brought his hand to Richie’s cock.

“Oh, fuck,” they said, both at the same time, making them giggle together.

“Fuck, Eds, your pretty little hand looks so cute wrapped around my cock,” Richie teased in a low, rough voice. Eddie shivered; he couldn’t tell if Richie was praising him or degrading him, but either way it made his head fuzzy.

“‘M not that little,” Eddie grumbled out of habit. But he was clearly breathless. He’d never been good at pretending not to like Richie’s compliments, however teasing.

“Aw, but you are, baby,” Richie cooed, nuzzling his nose against Eddie’s and pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. “You’re so cute and tiny for me. I don’t even know if we’ll be able to fit my cock inside you.”

“I can,” Eddie whined, both indignant and impatient. He bucked his hips up, but Richie held him down. He gasped when he felt the warm, soft skin of Richie’s cock press against his stomach. Looking down, he saw that Richie had his cock lying on Eddie’s stomach, showing just how deep he would be once he was inside Eddie.

“You sure about that, babydoll?” While the teasing note was still there, Richie’s voice got noticeably softer as he said, “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Eddie’s chest swelled at that. Cupping Richie’s face in his hands, he insisted, “I can take it.” Then he reached down and took Richie in his hand, glowing with pride when Richie let out a low moan. “Richie, please, I want you so bad.”

“Okay, baby,” Richie agreed, turning his head to kiss Eddie’s palm. “Fuck, I want you, too.” But he stalled. “Have you ever… like, been fucked before?”

Eddie flushed. “Well, not by someone else, but I have some toys. I’m not gonna break, Richie.” He huffed, but the way Richie was looking at him soothed any ruffled feathers.

“I’m your first?” His smile was soft, and while his eyes glittered, there was nothing teasing about his tone.

“I didn’t wanna do it with anyone else,” Eddie mumbled. He tried to look away, but Richie pulled him into a kiss.

“Fuck, I never thought you’d want me,” he chuckled. “Sorry, that was depressing, I just mean I can’t believe we didn’t do this sooner, you know?”

Eddie beamed, a small, giddy giggle dancing on his lips. “Well it’ll happen sooner if you stop talking so much.” But his smile, and all of the little kisses he planted on Richie’s freckled shoulders told Richie that Eddie never wanted him to stop talking.

“Alright, alright, sheesh, I know I’m hot but you don’t gotta rush me.” Eddie was still giggling when Richie kissed him, and he could feel that Richie was smiling too. “Where’s your lube?”

Eddie stretched his hand out and patted the bed for a moment, searching. After what was probably only four seconds but felt like an eternity, he finally found the bottle and handed it eagerly to Richie. “Oh, right,” Richie smirked, “you’re already wet for me, aren’t you?” Eddie moaned as Richie swiped his fingers over Eddie’s slick hole, pressing in just a bit. His fingers went in easily, and he pumped them slowly, drawing little, breathy moans out of Eddie. Richie’s fingers were a lot longer and thicker than his own, and they felt amazing, but they weren’t what he wanted in that moment.

“Richie, fuck me,” he whined.

“Aw, no please? Again?” Richie tsked and shook his head, curling his fingers against Eddie’s prostate, making him cry out. “I told you, sweetheart, only good boys who use their manners get fucked.”

“Please,” Eddie cried. He rocked his hips and grabbed at Richie’s shoulders, at his arms, not even sure what his goal was there other than to get Richie closer, to get his attention, to show him how desperate he was. “Please fuck me, please.” He sounded pathetic begging like this, but that just made him harder. And it made Richie’s pupils even wider as he slid his fingers out of Eddie and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Good boy,” he purred. Eddie moaned and arched into Richie’s touch, but he only gave Eddie one more kiss on his cheek before pulling back and covering his cock in lube. Eddie watched, entranced, as Richie’s hand moved smoothly over his cock, glistening and slick. Then Richie was gently spreading Eddie’s legs even further and pressing the head of his cock against Eddie’s hole.

“Yes,” Eddie whimpered brokenly, grasping at the sheets beneath him. “Richie, please.” Meeting his gaze, he said softly, “I need you.”

“I’ve got you,” Richie assured him in a voice that made Eddie feel like he was glowing. Richie took Eddie’s hand in his and entwined their fingers, using his other hand to guide his cock inside of Eddie, who gasped at the feeling. God, he couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe his first time was going to be with his favorite person. He couldn’t believe he was finally getting exactly what he wanted. Love flooded through him, warm and perfect, somehow both soothing and electrifying as he watched Richie’s face. Eddie’s mouth dropped as Richie pressed into him, deeper and deeper and still fucking deeper, until finally Richie let out a low moan and Eddie felt absolutely breathless. The stretch was intense, and he held onto Richie tightly as he caught his breath. “Are you alright?” Richie asked. His voice was strained, but the care and concern in it was clear. “You don’t have to take all of it if it’s too much.”

Eddie wanted to laugh at the remark or roll his eyes, but with how breathless and dizzied by pleasure he already was, he had to admit Richie had a point. “Just need a minute,” he gasped. Richie ran a soothing hand over Eddie’s skin, helping him even out his breathing and relax. The feeling of Richie’s cock twitching in anticipation inside of him had him letting out little moans as he adjusted, getting more and more used to the feeling until he felt comfortable enough to tell Richie he could move. Richie kissed him before he did, his lips soft against Eddie’s, a reassuring weight. Eddie breathed in sharply as Richie pulled back, grabbing at Richie’s shoulders.

Richie immediately stopped. “You okay, baby?” he asked, caressing Eddie’s face.

Eddie wanted to melt. Richie was always touching him, always jokingly flirting with him, but this unabashed concern and, well, love had previously been reserved for dire situations, like panic attacks or injuries. Eddie couldn’t help the dopey smile that bloomed on his face as he tilted his chin up and kissed Richie. “I’m okay,” he said breathlessly. “It’s just a little different from my vibrator.” They both gave a shaky laugh as Richie nuzzled his nose against Eddie’s.

“Better, I hope?” he grinned.

“Can’t tell yet,” Eddie retorted. Another snarky comment was on the tip of his tongue when Richie pulled his hips further back, effectively sucking all the air—and attitude—from Eddie’s chest. And then Richie was pushing back in, and Eddie let out a moan he couldn’t have faked if he tried, relaxing back into the mattress as his eyes fell shut. It was the best thing he’d ever felt, pleasure and relief flooding through his body. They’d been building up this tension for years; Eddie had figured it would feel good to break it, but it really felt magical, like something had just clicked into place. Feeling Richie inside of him, rocking his hips carefully, feeling Richie twitch as he tried not to lose control had Eddie’s head reeling. Eddie’s eyes fluttered open, focusing on Richie above him, on how flushed his face was. When Richie met his eye, pressing in deep, Eddie let out a small, “Fuck.”

“Yeah? Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

Richie was smirking as he said it, but there was something else sparkling in his eyes. Something giddy and awed. Something that made Eddie sigh dreamily, “I love you.”

Richie’s eyes widened for a moment before he pressed his lips firmly against Eddie’s, his hands roaming over Eddie’s body like he couldn’t choose where to put them, where to touch him. “I love you so much,” he beamed, pressing a few more kisses to Eddie’s cheeks. Eddie giggled at the feeling, but then Richie’s hips moved just a little faster, pressing him in just a little deeper, and he was back to melting under Richie’s touch, clinging to him as he rocked his hips with Richie’s. “Fuck, you’re so amazing, baby, so fucking beautiful. You look so good like this, holy shit.”

Eddie smiled almost drunkenly at Richie’s ability to ramble even when blowing Eddie’s mind. “Feels so good,” he moaned, his voice breathy and just a little bit higher than normal. He wrapped his legs around Richie’s waist. “Please, Richie, please.”

“Fuck, baby, wanna make you feel like this all the fucking time,” Richie groaned as he picked up the pace. Eddie whined in pleasure at the change, and that just spurred Richie to go faster, harder, until he was well and truly fucking Eddie, both of them moaning with every thrust.

“Oh my god,” Eddie cried, “ohmygodohmygodhmygod, oh fuck, Richie, please.” It felt so amazing, Richie fucking into him like this, but he needed that little bit more. His cock was throbbing desperately, achingly hard; he needed to feel Richie’s hand on him. “Richie, please,” he whimpered, “please, please touch me. I need you, I need you so bad, please, Richie.” Eddie was pouting now, grabbing aimlessly at Richie, his legs still wrapped tight around him.

“Fuck, you’re so hard for me,” Richie marveled, his voice sweet and condescending as he wrapped his hand around Eddie’s cock. Eddie nearly screamed at the contact, his back arching off the bed. Richie laughed a little, which just made Eddie even harder. The way Richie spread his precome over his cock, twisting his wrist just so as he stroked him had that familiar tension coiling in his lower stomach. “Aw, does that feel good? You gonna come on my cock, kitten?”

“Fuck, yes!” Eddie screamed. He gripped at the sheets as Richie stroked him, his voice washing over Eddie, mixing with the pleasure of Richie’s touch, of his thrusts. “Yes, yes, yes, please let me come, please, please, please.”

“That’s a good boy,” Richie purred, and Eddie could feel himself tipping over the edge at the words, at how low and affected Richie’s voice was. He groaned out, “Come on my cock like a good boy, princess,” and pure pleasure crashed over Eddie like a wave. He arched his back and cried out as he came, his moans filling the room as he squirmed under Richie, grabbed at him, at the sheets. It was fucking ethereal. He felt somehow so in tune with his body and yet so detached, like he was floating. He was barely cognizant of what Richie was saying, but when he put the sounds together and realized Richie had just said, panting, “Fuck, baby, gonna come,” Eddie felt like a live wire again.

“In me,” he said urgently. His mind was still a little too scattered for full sentences, but he knew what he wanted. God, he felt like he needed it. Like he needed to feel that connected to Richie. “Richie, come inside me, please.”

Richie apparently didn’t need to be told twice; he let out a moaned, “Oh, fuck,” before burying his face in Eddie’s neck, his breathy moans like music in Eddie’s ear. And then, as Eddie was coming down from his own high, he felt the holiest thing in the world: Richie’s cock, twitching inside of him, then his warm come filling Eddie up. It was unreal, being this close to him. Richie clutching at him as he came. It was even better than the little fantasies Eddie occasionally allowed himself. Richie was here, in his arms, pressing kisses to his neck as he caught his breath. Eddie was stroking his hair and rubbing his back as Richie nuzzled into him. Richie’s skin pressed against his skin, his legs wrapped around Richie’s waist, then falling to his sides, but still pressed to him. Still keeping him close. There wasn’t a single thought in his head that wasn’t about Richie.

Richie pulled him from his dreamy haze with light kisses pressed up his jaw, then over his cheeks. Eddie giggled at the onslaught of affection, still reeling from how fucking hot and euphoric what they had just done together had been. But he happily accepted Richie’s kisses, his heart bursting, then racing as Richie pulled back to look in his eyes. “Holy, fuck,” Richie beamed, his face flushed and blue eyes hooded from the weight of his orgasm, even as they sparkled.

“I know,” Eddie said, returning Richie’s grin as he basked in the surreality of having Richie on top of him, his dorky yet charming smile framed by lips that were red and swollen because of Eddie. His glasses were knocked askew, and Eddie instinctively reached up to fix them. With a sense of wonder, he realized that his touch was allowed to linger this time. He ran his fingers down Richie’s cheekbones, over his jaw, cupped his cheeks. “I love you,” he said. The words spilled out over his lips like he couldn’t stand not to say them. And while it made his heart race a little to say it out loud now that the adrenaline and tension was all worked through, it felt even better this time when Richie’s face softened and he nuzzled his nose against Eddie’s.

“I love you so fucking much.” Richie’s voice rarely got that soft, that sincere; it felt like a blanket wrapping around Eddie. It felt safe, secure. It felt like a promise. And if there was anyone in the world Eddie knew he could trust, it was Richie. That feeling of everything coming together came back to Eddie as he lay there under Richie, their lips moving together, feeling light as a feather now that everything was finally out in the open.

[noir0neko]

satan on the strip | m

“But parties of two are my favorite.”

rating: very mature

paring: jungkook x reader

includes: lots of sexual tension, also sex, praise!kink, pet names, magic, drinking, other nefarious behavior, a lot of sexual thoughts, maybe some biting and maybe some air play and begging and cursing and just,,, it’s mature content folks, proceed with caution 

word count: 3.5k

a/n: Hi!!! It has been a hOT minute since I was here. I was just toasting some bagels this morning when this idea popped into my head and I knew I had to write it. Shoutout to bagels for giving me inspo, even though bagels are not in this fic in any way. If you would like to read along to what I was listening to when I wrote, here is the little playlist: “Miracle” by CHVRCHES. “Love on the Brain” by Rihanna, “Hypnotic” by Zella Day and “Locked Out of Heaven” by Bruno Mars. ENJOY! I am super happy to post something again! 

“Come on!” Your friends try to flag you over to the dance floor from your very comfortable seat at the bar. You hold up your drink as an excuse and take a sip, letting the bitter liquid burn a path down your throat. They scoff and give you a dirty look, but continue dancing, throwing themselves around wildly to the music. 

It’s the night of one of your best friend’s bachelorette parties, and of course, she wanted to have it in Las Vegas. And also of course, your ex boyfriend is the best man for her soon to be husband. And triple of course, they decided to crash the bachelorette party and you have now been watching another random girl grind on your ex for the past twenty minutes.

You take another drink, sighing heavily before turning back around to the bar. 

“Long night already?” A voice says from behind you, deep and low. 

You swing your head to the side, getting an eyeful of the very tall and very handsome man who has taken a seat at the bar. His hair is dark and straight, waving lightly over his forehead. His skin is pale, clear, and smooth, with eyes so bottomless and deep they almost look black. He is wearing a gray v-neck shirt with dark wash jeans that have rips in the knees, exposing more of his pale skin and you can’t help but notice he has bright red shoes on. 

“I guess,” You shrug, taking another sip of your drink and moving it to the other side of your body. Just to be safe. 

“I’ll take that it's going to be an even longer one, if your friends are all of the bachelorette girls.” He smiles with his straight teeth and full mouth. “Unless you just wanted to match with a bunch of random strangers for no reason.” 

You sigh again, fingering the stupid sparkly sash around your dress with an absent finger. Your friends had insisted on wearing little black dresses and pairing them with ridiculously bright and glittering sashes that say different things. Luckily, yours is one of the more tame sayings, with “Wild Princess” printed on it in big cursive letters. You feel anything but wild. All you want to do is leave and crawl into bed with a book and sleep. Or maybe cry and try not to replay the image of your ex dancing with another girl and not giving a damn about you over and over again. 

“I wish I was randomly matching,” You take another drink. “Sometimes a party of one is better than anything else.” 

The mysterious stranger gives you a mischievous smile. “Parties of one are great. But parties of two are my favorite. Anything above that is just a crowd.” 

You laugh despite myself, nodding along in agreement. Deciding to not sit and wallow all night, you place your hand in the space between you and introduce yourself. He takes your hand and electric currents run up your arms, pushing a shiver down your spine. 

“I’m Jungkook.” He says, smiling again. 

With his arm out, you can see the beginning of a tattoo curling around his bicep and under the sleeve of his shirt. Your eyes follow it, trying to decipher its long, coiling shape before he pulls back. His eyes seem alive and glowing, their almond shape crinkling in the corners as he looks at you. 

You clear your throat. “What brings you here?” 

“Oh you know,” he says vaguely, gesturing for the bartender. “Work.” 

“This hardly seems like work,” you quirk an eyebrow. 

“Semantics,” Jungkook chuckles. “I am in the entertainment business.” 

He orders his drink, a clean bourbon, and then turns back to you, a secretive smile on his face. It’s like he can sense what you are going to say before it comes out of your mouth. “Movies?” You can totally imagine him in an action film. 

He shakes his head. 

“Television?” You guess. 

He shakes his head again, thanking the bartender as he slides a drink along the counter. 

“Music?” You try again. 

“You’re getting warmer,” he leans in closer and you can smell the alcohol and musky scent of him. It’s almost more intoxicating than your drink. “Magic.” 

“Magic?” You repeat, stupefied. 

“Yes,” he sits back and your head clears. “Magic.” 

“Like rabbits out of hats and throwing knives at spinning people?” 

He seems to think for a second, as if actually considering your joke as a statement. “A bit more sophisticated than that, but yes. That’s the idea.” 

You narrow your eyes at him, turning to face your body towards his. “Show me.” 

“I don’t think you’re ready for the kind of magic I have, Princess.” He says slyly, eyes dipping to your sash again. You scoff, taking the sash off and placing it on the bar. His grin grows and he leans back into you. 

You swear you can feel electricity sizzling in the space between you two, desperate to follow the high he’s bringing. “Show me,” you say again, a challenge in your voice. 

“Alright,” his voice is so low you don’t know how you can hear him over the deafening music and yelling, but it’s as if there is no one else but you and him. “All of your friends are now wishing that they were in your place, when they were making fun of you for sitting here before. You wish you didn’t have to be here, but you are a supportive friend and know how much it would hurt if you left early. Your boyfriend over there is thinking about punching me and wants to know who I am and why you stopped being jealous to pay attention to me.” 

You  blanch, trying to discreetly look to the side to see the dance floor. You can see all of your friends out there, stealing glances your way in between steps and body rolls. You can see two of them giggling and whispering, wagging their eyebrows at you as they catch your glance. Then you see your ex, no longer with the woman from before, but making his way over from across the floor, his jaw set and eyes blazing. 

His angry face. 

Your stomach flips, but there is some smug satisfaction in his reaction as you turn back to Jungkook. He seems completely unaffected by your oncoming ex, but is staring directly at you. You think his eyes could burn you from the inside out if you let them. 

“What do you want to do?” He asks, his word ricocheting deep inside of you. 

“I want to leave,” you say, the words leaving your mouth before your brain can catch up. “Can we go?” 

“Of course we can, Princess.” Jungkook smiles, standing up and offering you his arm. 

You gather your things and join him, careful to not meet any of your friend’s eyes as you let Jungkook walk you towards the door. Hadn’t they been pushing you to hook up all weekend? Hadn’t they been throwing you at guys and giving guys your number since the party started? And even more because of the presence of your ex? 

The thought of him makes you grin and you look back to find him staring after you, clenching and unclenching his fists in agitation. Your smile widens and you can’t help but wave at him as you leave. Fuck him. 

You see your friends waving and jumping up and down excitedly, practically bouncing with happiness at the new development in your boring life. Jungkook’s arm is warm and hard around yours, static and heat pooling in the best parts of you. Close up, you can see the black lines and dots of his tattoo, but still can’t make out what it is. Your brain begins to question what you’re doing. This man is a complete stranger. And you’re in Las Vegas walking out of a bar with him. Every single horror film and terrible thing to happen to a woman always starts out this way. You start to rethink your choice, opening your mouth to tell him you’re going back. 

“Spend an hour with me,” Jungkook says, snagging your attention and the words from your lips. The night air is hot still, the street loud and bustling with people walking to and fro. 

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows. 

“One hour,” he repeats. “Spend one hour with me. If you want to go back after that, I’ll bring you.” 

“One hour?” You sound like a broken record. 

One hour. What can happen in one hour in one of the most crowded places in the United States? You both can just walk around, maybe get some food. One hour only has sixty minutes, after all and on the strip, that time would go by impossibly fast. Not to mention, the last thing you realistically want to do is walk the strip alone or go back into the bar without Jungkook and with your tail between your legs. You know your ex would have a field day and your friends would be so pitiful. Maybe it is about time to get wild. 

“One hour.” You say definitively. A statement this time. 

Jungkook leans in and you smell him again, musky and hot. “Then, I am determined to make it the best hour of your life.” 

His words bring fierce shivers down your spine. What have you gotten yourself into? 

Before you know it, your predictions seem to come true. A half hour passes without notice as you and Jungkook walk in and out of hotels, restaurants and bars. Jungkook asks you about your life, your hobbies, and does little magic tricks for you along the way. Pulling pennies from behind your ears and predicting cards before the dealer draws them. You’re laughing and smiling and living and noticing how beautiful he is when he smiles. How dark his eyes are and how you want to stare into them forever. How perfectly his eyebrows frame his face and how his cheekbones and jaw make him seem carved out of marble. 

“Have you ever thought about playing?” You ask him after you exit Caesar’s Palace. He had correctly guessed every single card before it was shown on the table and helped one of the players win big. Although it has to be well after 2 in the morning, the night is bustling and alive. Dancers are on the sidewalks in big feathers and bikini costumes, people dressed as Disney characters and superheroes are posing for pictures, and tourists are drinking and laughing and mingling with one another. 

“No,” Jungkook laughs, secrets in the sound. “I don’t need money.”  

“Doesn’t everyone need money?” 

Jungkook looks at you, tilting his head to the side. “There are things money can’t buy.” 

“Like what?” You ask. 

“Purity,” Jungkook responds. And the answer is so weird you stop walking. 

“Purity?” You put your hands on your hips, half mocking him. “Like chastity?” 

Jungkook moves close to you, looking down at you with those deep and confusing eyes. Your lips are part of their own volition. You want to kiss him. You want to do a lot more than kiss him. 

“Not chastity,” Jungkook looks wistful. Almost sad. “Heaven. The purity of it. When you fall, you can’t buy your way back in.”

Heaven. You think to yourself, looking at this man who seems to be a fallen angel himself. Beautiful and dark and full of magic, real or not, that pulls something buried deep inside of you and brings it to the surface. You hate how sad he looks, how regretful and reproachful. You want to ease his pain, you want to give him a slice of Heaven, a slice of the world, to see him smile and his eyes crinkle again.

And hell, if you don’t want to give yourself a piece of Heaven, of him, as well. 

Without thinking, you pull him into an alley between hotels. The night is hot and starless, the smell of sweat and alcohol and lowered inhibitions in the air. You don’t feel fully in control of your body, letting instinct guide you and Jungkook into the dark narrow street. 

“Time is almost up,” Jungkook reminds you. 

You growl in response, not even sure you know how to make such a sound. Not sure where this all consuming emotion has come from. “I don’t care.” 

Reaching out for him, you slam your bodies together and crash your lips onto his. You fit together perfectly, like two pieces of a long lost puzzle you didn't even know you’d been trying to solve. You push Jungkook’s hair back, catching a glimpse of small stud earrings in his ear. The jewelry is extremely sexy and you feel even more eager than you did before to feel him. 

Taking more control, Jungkook pushes you back until you hit one of the walls. You can hear the laughter and sounds of people around you on either side of the alley, walking up and down the strip and drinking. It would be so easy for someone to look in and see you both, obviously involved in much more than an innocent kiss. 

He touches you and you feel like you might break a part into a million little pieces. His touch is shocking, little fires trailing behind his fingers as they roam down the bare skin of your arms. Your back arches into the stone behind your head, a moan ripping from your throat when his fingers graze the skin of your neck. Jungkook is watching you with a feral gaze, licking his lips before leaning in to run his lips and teeth over your throat. You grip the front of his shirt, desperate to feel more. To feel everything. 

Jungkook crowds you closer to the wall, aligning his body to press against yours. You can feel the rises and plains of his muscle and frame through your thin dress. Your breasts peak with anticipation, a tingling sensation building low in your stomach. Jungkook hooks his hands around your thighs, the feeling of his bare skin on yours eliciting a string of curse words from your mouth. You’re ready to beg him to touch you where you need it. 

Luckily you don’t have to. 

Once he has you firmly against the wall, with your legs hooked around his midsection, he curves his arm around your leg and lets his fingers graze you. There is nothing blocking his touch and the contact and slickness of you seems to shock him. 

“No underwear?” He nearly growls.

“It’s a matching thing,” you all but pant. 

“It’s a naughty thing, Princess.” Jungkook responds, pressing his thumb directly into you. “How could I not tell before?” 

You ignore his statement, aware that you’re unable to question anything he does right now. His thumb begins to move and you moan, burying your head in the crook of his neck to muffle the sound. Jungkook’s other hand weaves through your hair, pulling you back against the wall so the sounds you emit echo against the narrow alley walls. 

“I want to hear you,” he commands. 

“But the people,” you begin to protest, knowing that even you don’t care. 

“They can’t hear or see us,” he responds, a grin carving a wicked look to his features. “Like I told you: magic.” 

Without warning, Jungkook slides two fingers into you, dragging the longest and deepest sound from your throat. Your hips are trying to move, begging for more friction, but he won’t give it to you. He has his body flush against yours on the wall. In complete control. You fucking love it. 

His hair curls with sweat, the strands sticking to his forehead. The moisture seems to make him sparkle and glow. Like an angel on Earth. Maybe a fallen angel. He curls his fingers and strokes you, your walls clenching around his fingers with delicious pleasure. 

“Shit,” he curses, sliding his fingers out. “I need to be in you. Now.” 

You whine in agreement, the intensity in his words making your toes curl. Jungkook reaches in between your bodies to undo his belt, long and nimble fingers making quick work on the clasp. You want him to do wicked and horrible things with those fingers, and that belt. You want him to tie you down and make you beg for every lick of pleasure he could give you. Wild desperation begins to build in you. You could cum just from watching him. Just from seeing that pink tongue of his lick across his lips. 

“Jungkook,” you groan, watching him pull his cock out. 

The rational part of your brain is aware that you are both in public, with hundreds of people walking by the alley every minute. The rational part of you is aware that you can get arrested for this. That this is dangerous and irresponsible on so many levels. But the louder and reckless part of you never wants this to end. The irrational part of your brain believes him, trusts him, and trusts his magic. No one has noticed yet. Maybe luck. Maybe magic. You don’t care. 

And then he is poised at your entrance and pushing into you in one, long, thrust. Your moans are incessant, no breath between the sounds. You can feel him at the back of you, you can feel him everywhere, filling you up and intoxicating you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he is groaning, deep and dark and raw. 

He moves again, in and out, following an untraceable rhythm that is setting you on fire. You have never felt this alive before, this electrified, everything is you is singing with approval and building with pleasure. You didn’t know sex before this, you didn’t know how good it could feel before this. How can you ever be with anyone besides him now? 

He’s going to fuck you and leave you fucked for the rest of your life. 

Jungkook claims you in a kiss, his tongue roaming your mouth. He swallows your moans and sounds with shivers. Your hands reach under his shirt and travel along the rigid muscle of his stomach and shoulders. His body seems to come alive beneath the touch, skin rippling and muscle contracting. 

You can feel his large intake of breath along your lips. You don’t think you’ve heard him sigh until now, or breathe at all for that matter. It’s like he has never taken air into his lungs before you touched him. And now you can’t stop. Your fingers are everywhere as he continues to fuck you. Wild. This is wild. 

“Don’t stop,” you beg, breaking the contact of the kiss for breath. 

Jungkook’s eyes are touching you as they roam around your face, down your neck and collarbones, over your breasts and stomach, until they settle on the point where your bodies are joined. His skin is slick with sweat. His eyes are burning with passion. The muscles of his back and taut, signaling he feels as close as you do to release. 

He reaches between you and begins to rub your clit in small circles. That’s it. You’re gone. You’ve sunk so deep, you know there’s no coming back. You splinter and break a part around him, milking his cock with tight spasms until you feel him cum, as well. You cum for what feels like forever, moaning and writhing and shaking at his touch. 

Jungkook’s teeth are grazing at your throat and he bites gently. You think you’re going to cum again, moaning and arching up to give him more access. He’s still in you, despite the cum you feel dripping around him and coating your thighs. Jungkook’s lips curve up and he pushes his teeth deeper into the base of your throat. You feel a sharp sting and then warm, hot blood is dripping down your collarbones and between your breasts. Jungkook lets out a gasp as your blood fills his mouth, swallowing the thick liquid like he’s a man dying of thirst. His eyes are glowing, his skin is glowing, and you swear the tattoo on his arm stretches itself out, like it's waking up after a long sleep. 

“You,” he says, capturing you in a long searing kiss. You can taste your own blood. You can taste your own desire, still throbbing deep and low after he’s satisfied you.  “You are my princess.” 

And then, just as quickly as you were there, you’re gone. Swallowed up by a black so endless and so deep you’re not sure you’ll ever resurface. Like realizing you’ve sunk too far in the deep end of the pool and wondering if you’ll make it out. Like falling asleep and hoping you don’t wake up. And consciously, dangerously, eerily, like the color of his eyes.  

You’ve met Satan on the strip. 

And your hour is now eternity. 

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

~Admin Eggplant

[lvlyhao]

『you’re dating him but he’s not your bias』

reaction fic; NCT Dream

A/N: this is nct dream’s reaction to realizing your bias is not him (and you’re a couple). gender neutral, got way too deep at some points and was NOT meant to be this long. enjoy.

note that english is my second language and i speak mixing slang, accents and spellings from 3283928 places so i did notice there’s practice written with both s and c down there so

just dont mind it pls

also, today’s photo theme is dream looking cute in low quality shots.

𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓻𝓮𝓼: fluff (♡), angst (❆), comedy (☼), crack (⍢).

𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: lots of swearing, my tough love for the neos, one mention of cheating that doesn’t actually happen, a couple of mentions of alcohol and drinking, some violence hidden in metaphors, me being chaotic, it got a bit more angsty and darker than i intended, but we do have all happy endings.

word count: 6.8K

pairing: nct dream members x reader ( includes mark, renjun, jeno, haechan, jaemin, chenle, jisung)

disclaimer: the characters in the story below do not reflect real people or present real facts. this is purely fictional, and you may not copy, change, translate or repost my work in any way. all rights reserved © cherry-hyejin 2021.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Mark

oh, poor baby

i feel like he would be a little heartbroken 

just a little

not so much if it’s someone from dream, because they’re his little brothers, but if it’s one of his hyungs from 127 or wayv,,,,,

boy might cry

he’s not super dramatic about it or anything but i don’t see him as being super confident about himself

so he might think like

“do they think he’s cooler than me?”

and it’s silly, yes, he knows

but it’s just something that pops up in his mind sometimes when you bring him up

so for the sake of this fanfic let’s pretend you’re johnny biased

because gods know i am

at least when it comes to 127

mark would be divided into fanboying with you and being like “YO, HE’S THE COOLEST GUY ON EARTH OH MY GOD I’M SO GLAD YOU AGREE”

and

“a h”

<gives you a little tiny smile to cover up the sound of his heart breaking>

would constantly try to get closer to you when johnny is around, and just

showing off in little (kinda dumb) ways

complimenting you

being even more whipped than usual

like yes he’ll give you all of his watermelon slices just please don’t look at johnny like that again

i think johnny would kind of play into it with the whole “imma steal your s/o” thing

and he doesn’t do it to make mark jealous or hurt

we know he’d rather get hit by a train than ever actually upsetting his son on purpose

but we also know he’s johnny

cue “OH DUDE HE’S FLIRTING”

so yeah he might call you lil pet names (beautiful, cutie, you get it)

just to see you giggle 

(and see your soul leave your body)

might say he’s taking you out for dinner when he’s just driving you to get more ice cream for a movie night with the gang lol

and winks

expect a lot of winks

anywhere and anytime

which makes mark sometimes feel like he’s intruding???

and that you appreciate johnny more than him???

he genuinely doesn’t understand how you can date him and still not have him as your bias

don’t you like, love him above everyone else or smth lol

his “showing off” phase eventually fades tho

now every time you hang you with the boys and johnny is around, he’ll be a bit more distant 

he thinks he’s giving you space to interact with his friends but he’s just shying away from competing with one of his favourite people ever

and it’s a competition that Does Not Exist™

but he’s not 100% aware of that

and you’re not that dense 

so ofc you notice

and you wait till you two are alone to talk to him, and he BEGRUDGINGLY admits that you being johnny biased makes him feel kinda small and unimportant

he’d never try to make you change your bias or anything

he just needs reminders that he’s your #1 boy sometimes

which is fine by you

and by him

cus now it’s you calling him pet names all the time

and hugging him

and kissing his cheek

and praising his work

and blowing kisses from across the room

and just telling him straight up that no matter what, you’ll always go to him

(not that you ever had any chance with johnny lmao)

THIS GOES TO SHOW COMMUNICATING IS KEY, CHILDREN

COMMUNICATE

Renjun

wym donghyuck is your bias lol

literally are you fucking kidding him

don’t get me wrong ok

everyone knows renjun loves haechan

they’re bffs and could not live without each other

but at the same time,,,

what is wrong with you

who did he choose as his s/o gods help him

if it was jeno, or mark, or jaehyun, or winwin, or kun, or lucas, or yuta, or taeyong, or ten, or,,,,

literally ANY of his other members

he’d understand your point and be like “ok fine”

but haechan???? hmmm bestie no

he’s not gonna throw a fit

not after the first time you told him anyways

HE WAS SURPRISED OKAY

and he just whined very loudly after having laughed for 5 minutes thinking it was a joke

<flashbacks of that one time he had to sing the ottoke song with haechan on weekly idol>

if you don’t know that iconic scene, renjun had a whole ass meltdown in 3 seconds while yelling “aAAAAAH JINJJAAAAA” and getting ready to punch the living shit out of hyuck

for no reason other than the fact that it’s haechan we’re talking about and injun’s little body is filled with rage

BACK ON TRACK

would probably try to act all cool about it and be like “i don’t mind” but bruh does he mind

and it doesn’t help that haechan is such a little shit about it

he doesn’t even flirt with you

he just

constantly reminds renjun that he’s your bias—not him—and then constantly praises himself over you

“ah, y/n~ did you choose me as your bias because i’m the best vocalist? or was it because i’m the best dancer? mAYBE IT WAS BECAUSE OF MY OH SO BROAD SHOULDERS—”

(pause for injun to punch him)

(unpaused)

and ok in the beginning it was funny seeing him all worked up but now it’s just annoying to be in the same room as these two

haechan won’t let either of you live

and renjun just wants to

fight

so it eventually gets to the point where you’ll talk to renjun and jeno will talk to hyuck cus even the other dreamies are tired of it

except maybe for chenle, he always laughs his ass off when they start bickering

ANYWAY

your conversation goes something like “oh my god renjun i’m literally dating you, i don’t like haechan better or anything you little pile of fury”

while jeno sits hyuck down in front of him and jaemin and just

“bro why are you like this”

“bro”

no but renjun would apologize for going overboard with his protectiveness and jealous energy because he’s not generally like that

he’s angry all the time but never about something involving you, you know

he tries his best to treat you like the royalty you are

but something about hyuck being your bias makes him feel a bit like a castaway???

he’s very creative and as an artsy kid myself i know we’re very prone to feeling left out because we’re just different from the others

so he’d think maybe haechan really has a better voice

or better dancing skills

or he looks better

he is taller than injun after all, and has broader shoulders, and his hair is all fluffy and—

the whole thing just made him insecure about things he had settled with himself long ago

he was fine with being him

but not so much when it came to that

i don’t think you two would fight over it cus tbh i think renjun would really only get with someone who can be very understanding of him

and i think hyuck would actually apologize to renjun too

not when everyone’s around but like, maybe after dinner or something and he just needs to feel like they’re besties again

hyuck never meant for things to get out of control

he just really likes both injun and you as his friends, and aside from skinship his most prominent love language is,,,

teasing

he was really just trying (very poorly) to grow closer to the person his best friend loves so much—you—because renjun is SUCH a big part of his life it would just feel wrong to not be good friends with you as well

don’t tell them i said this but they hug it out

injun strikes me as someone that could take a bit of time to bounce back from something that hurt his pride or his sense of belonging

and his way of healing and bonding is just,,,

art

sure, keep being haechan biased, but also please read with him

and talk about his fantastic animal creations

and watch those buzzfeed unsolved alien theory videos because he really wants to discuss it and maybe even draw what he thinks the aliens look like

hyuck tones it down, you make sure renjun knows you like him for him, renjun starts to (secretly) appreciate hyuck’s talent along with you...

and now let’s take a moment to imagine the minute you watch their latest mv with injun by your side

and yes okay the first thing you see is CLEARLY how good renjun looks because holy fucking shit he’s an angel (and i’m clearly not renjun biased)

but then,,,,,,

wAS THAT A HAECHAN HIGH NOTE

(there’s always a haechan high note, just look for it)

and ok maybe he did scream a bit with you because of how good it all sounded

and you know what, it works out perfectly bc you two are my new otp and you were meant for each other

but we do have to mention the eventual happening of chenle saying like “oOoOoOoH y/N wErE yOu dRoOliNg oVeR hAeChAn AgAiN” after a special stage

and then you, injun and hyuck all attempt to choke him

i’m kidding

or not

Jeno

ah, lee jeno

aka samoyed boi

yes i do call him that no i will not stop

everyone is always writing jeno as being super protective and literally about to burst a lung if someone else ever does as much as look at you

but i just 

don’t see him that way

he’s a taurus and from what i know about taurus they can be v v jealous, yes, but they mainly seek comfort

so he’s fine with you biasing jaemin

as long as you’re not ditching him or anything lol

and ok, imma be 100% honest here even if it sounds like literal no fun (jenojaem wink wonk)

jaemin doesn’t flirt with you

not any more than he flirts with

every other breathing creature

ever

he’s really only platonically interested in you, never remotely romantic or anything lol

on the other side, he is in love with jeno

basically, if jaemin is your bias, jeno is his

so nothing really changes

we know how nomin are, okay

they hold hands, they stare deeply into each other eyes, they nearly kiss at least once every time they go live

it's just them

you gotta respect it bruh

i know this is the most boring reaction ever so let’s create the one (1) instance where jeno would actually dislike that you bias someone else

i think he would feel a bit hurt if you seemed to be more supportive of jaemin’s work than his

and it’s not something big or on purpose

it’s just something like going with him to a recording session but not going with jeno because you have homework

or after a very busy practise day going to praise jaemin first

even if it’s just three words

“you did good”

and then you’re going towards him, he’s gonna feel like maybe he doesn’t deserve your praise as much as nana????

i actually feel like, among the dreamies, jeno is the least confident one when it comes to his performance

he knows he’s not an awful rapper or anything but i think it can be a bit too much, being around such bright and huge presences like the others while his nickname literally means “no fun”

his members are just so loud and full of energy most of the time

and sometimes he just really needs to be quiet and observe in silence 

(yes i do know he’s chaotic and a crackhead, i’m just saying as we know he can be a bit introspective)

so what if you just

stopped seeing him?

did he become invisible to you?

did you finally fall for jaemin’s beautiful smile and stupid pick-up lines?

he’s not gonna let it show that he’s affected, though

earth signs are nearly always the ones to “stay strong” because we have this image that people are relying on us???

so we do what we do

bottle everything up and overwork ourselves bc we only got two modes

1. chill, super balanced and down to earth (ay for the pun)

2. please make us take a break we’re literally about to cry if we work for one more minute but we can’t allow ourselves to fucking take it easy

so yes you’ve guessed correctly, we’re going with 2

jeno is going to go so, SO hard on everything he does 

literally every single activity you can think of from dance practice to photoshoots to cooking for the dreamies

he stays up later than usual to get that one tricky move in the choreo just right

he works out more because he thinks he has to look absolutely perfect for when they shoot the mv

jisung asked for ramen? he’s making it but you bet your ass he’s spending over 40 minutes just chopping so

many

vegetables

AND STUFF THAT JISUNG WON’T EVEN EAT

but he’s doing it anyway for the reason being that it just has to be the Best™

and it’s not like he’s competing with anyone else to be diligent

this is just about being better than he was and showing himself—and maybe you—how painstakingly hardworking and driven he can be

maybe then you’re gonna acknowledge him as much as you acknowledge nana :((

:(((((

writing this is making me downright sad, jeno is so underrated and unaware of his power UGH

and i need to point out this is NOT about making you change your bias from jaemin to him, this is solely about having you recognize his efforts, even if you already do

if you just thought jeno was like going off in work because it was asked of him to, jaemin would DEF notice and talk to you about it

turns out it’s a habit of jeno to go extra hard sometimes and he needs someone to make him take a break

so it goes down like you breaking into the practice room when jeno and jisung were practising

the first reaction is confusion

the second is oh hey babe how are you

third is

a-are you dragging jeno and his bag out of the door while screeching at jisung to order pizza and doughnuts for everyone??

yes you are and i’m proud of you

so jeno is still confused and making those cute “hUh” noises he does omg i love him so much

and you’re just rambling about how much of an amazing artist he is, and you love his voice, and he’s a fantastic dancer, and his expressions and gestures are on point, and he takes such good care of the dreamies and

he’s perfect

and he knows jaemin must have talked to you, and he feels so vulnerable to have you know how on edge he’s been

baby boy just needs some rest

and that’s exactly what you give him, with a bath full of those fancy bath bombs and flower petals and candles at your house/apt

then a quick sheet mask while you massage his shoulders and keep saying how much you genuinely admire him

the mask might be ruined cus he started crying out of exhaustion

after that’s been done and you’ve hugged for at least like 5 min nonstop, you head over to the dorms, where hyuck was in charge of setting up a blanket fort while mork and nana gather board games, jisung gets the food and chenle

well chenle just had to make sure jisung doesn’t forget to order for someone and doesn’t break like 10 plates trying to set the table lol

this is way longer than the others so imma wrap it up

make it obvious and loud that you see and respect jeno’s hard work and he’ll be alright again

and maybe make those game nights a weekly thing when possible, it would make him very happy

he’ll never again feel sad when you praise jaemin cus now he’s sure he does enough, and above all, he is enough

Haechan

haechan = full sun

why would you ever bias someone when you’re dating the goddamned sun

does not understand

but also does not care that much

actually, one out of two really depending on who your bias is

if it’s one of the members he has that tom/jerry relationship with, prepare for so

much

complaining

and clinging

AND HE’D BE SO LOUD OH MY FUCKING GOD

donghyuck please stop screaming about doyoung not deserving to be your baby’s bias, it’s 2 am

on the other hand, if it’s one of the (few) members he,,,

adores with all of his heart and is not afraid to show it

ex: sungchan, jaehyun, taeil and yang2x

then you can bet he’s going to be right beside you whenever you feel like throwing a fit because he’s just so handsome and talented

IF IT’S MARK OSHDISJD

i’m going to write you as being mark biased ok? ok

i honestly don’t know if he’d feel more jealous of mark or of you

he loves you both

a lot,,,,

and he really doesn’t like it when mark blushes when you compliment him

and he doesn’t like it when mark literally just walks past you and you trip over your feet because bro tf u doing, that’s some embarrassing shit

lowkey done with you two

but also PAY HIM SOME ATTENTION

or don’t, he’s fine either way (cue crossed arms and staring at you from across the room until you come give him a kiss)

“he’s pretty cute but i’m cuter right baby”

pouty pouty pouty if he ever feels neglected

will be so fucking annoying lmao i can’t write haechan, i love him but i do understand why renjun is always trying to beat him up

he’d be a show-off in a different way than mark because he can be so petty

will take every chance he gets to pull a one-liner

will sing everything he has to say just so you know he can hit those high notes

what do you mean dream doesn’t have a schedule today

oh man, he could swear they did

because that is the sole reason why he’s wearing his most expensive clothes and shoes + makeup to walk around the dorms, yes

no he doesn’t want to impress you

shut up

will text you like every single fancam he sees on twitter

every

single 

one

and are they mark’s?

lol no, they’re his

he is so genuinely trying to make you a member of his sunflower cult 

<whispers> “tell me i’m your bias” 

“donghyuck what the actual hell why are you standing at the end of my bed in the middle of the night like a fucking demon child”

he really wants to act all cool and composed but he wants to be your bias so fucking bad

he’s a bad bitch all around and just does whatever

cus haechan privilege

and he tends to not care about what people say and think???

bc he knows he’s lee donghyuck

he’s fully aware of the effect he has on people

but you

not biasing him

naw, he can’t take it

will do anything and everything he can to make you say, JUST ONE TIME, he’s your bias

then you can go back to loving (his) mark

so for your sake, for his sake, for mark’s sake

just give donghyuck what he wants

i can promise he’ll keep being an ass no matter what you do

like yeah did you just buy him coffee and his favourite cake? well that’s sweet but iS HE YOUR BIAS YET

“aw babe thanks so much for taking a bullet for me but now please say i’m your bias”

if you still don’t do it, it’s time to be extra petty

will actually drop you for mark

his logic is something like: he can’t be your bias? pity, so he’s just gonna date him instead

and mark is mark so he has no idea what’s going on

everyone in 127 and dream finds this absolutely hilarious cus suddenly donghyuck seems to be doing his best to win over mark’s heart and i mean more than usual???? and he’s treating you like his bro????

<you leaving the dorms to go to uni or smth so you go to hyuck for a goodbye kiss> “no can do, i’m committed”

“i’m your partner”

“no that’s mark”

it’s not 100% a joke when i say i can see him getting down in one knee to propose to mark while making eye contact with you to

assert his dominance

and mark is just

“dude

what HAHAHA”

and you are so done, i’m so sorry you have to go through that bby

i don’t think there’s another way to fix haechan other than just admitting he was your bias for an era, or a comeback or something

like yeah with the other dreamies before him it’s bonding + healing time bc i wrote it all kinda angsty (lol sorry) but with donghyuck

no

“will you stop this if i say you were my bias during reload era”

“mark wasn’t in dream that era tho”

“yes i know”

i say he’s gonna take what he can get and now things can finally go back to normal

with the exception that something else comes along with hyuck being satisfied with you biasing him

he just has a full pass to fanboy over mark now too

what am i talking about?

new 127 mv is out

you: watching it beside haechan and going off about how pretty mark looks

him: going off even harder bc he’s whipped too

this is what a happy couple looks like 

but now i pity mark because he has you two idiots fanboying over him irl

savemork2021

Jaemin

nana is just such a chill and fun guy

i can’t see him being actually jealous or anything if he finds out you bias someone else

and so the two of you become insufferable together

bitch, i’m telling you

he (ur bias) is not gonna have one peaceful day ever again in his entire life

cus you know the thing jaemin does where he just looks at someone doing some random shit and goes “oOoOoH sExY”

yes that thing

he’s doing it to your bias 

and you’re doing it too

and your bias probably wants to run away to some very far away land

PLEASE IF IT’S JISUNG

i’m not gonna write this whole thing as if you bias him but let’s just imagine

two fully grown people

pilling on top of poor, poor park jisung playing games on his phone

“URI JISUNGIEEEEEE

MWOYA, MWOYAAAA~"

i genuinely think he would avoid being around you two at the same time

cus individually he can handle it

like yes y/n please let me go this hug has lasted for about 4 minutes now

or oh hi jaemin hyung my cheeks hurt when you pinch them that hard

but when you two are together

bruh

a power couple not bc you two are v confident or some shit but bc you can and will be extremely affectionate towards anyone that comes too close

and now let’s talk about how it would be if you biased jaehyun

jaemin loves jaehyun

they’re 2jae

2jae are soulmates

therefore,,,, it’s also kinda hellish but in a different way???

bc 2jae are on the end of that spectrum about the neos that know how in love the entire world is with them

they’re too powerful

they’re aware of their charm and they do everything they can to rub it in our faces

so the flirting between 2jae and you would be insane

and i mean insane

insane as in even johnny is kinda disgusted tbh bc

they’re doing a photo shoot with the 23 of them for some shit, idk don’t ask me

and of course, you had to tag along

but oh my god you three, please stop calling each other sexy/hot in weird voices now, the staff is staring

there are def rumours the 3 of you are a poly couple lmao

jaehyun denies everything on social media (throwback to saying “no way lol” when we asked if he REALLY slept in the same bed as jungwoo)

but every piece of content there is of you and jaemin or you and jaehyun or just them is so ridiculously flirty

you can bet there are compilations on youtube like 

“y/n being in love with 2jae for 8 minutes heterosexual”

ok i was having way too much fun with that, moving on

i don’t think he’d ever be actually upset about you biasing someone else

he trusts you and treasures you a lot so he doesn’t see the problem in you also appreciating another one of his members

bc gods know he does

he’s a bit in love with everyone so why shouldn’t you be too lol

one time he would feel a bit blue because of it???

hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

i think it’s possible he’d turn pouty or whiny or just kinda needy (not in a bad way, he just misses you) when he’s like

done with people

and needs some time away from everything

we know he’s an introvert, even if he acts very, very loud around the boys and it’s honestly just a matter of time until an introvert grows tired of being around humans

it depends on each person, of course, but there’s a 99% chance every once in a while he’ll start to feel too drained

and he’ll need a break to get his energy back

jaemin would probably want you around even when he feels like that, though

i see you being such a big source of comfort for him in a relationship

he enjoys taking care of people so please take care of him too

and for just this one day don’t talk about your bias that much, or don’t leave nana to go over to him to chat

and just cuddle him a lot

that will make him a smiley baby again

and then things are back to how they normally are

and by that i mean most neos hiding from you because they’re scared 

i don’t have a lot to say aside from that so let’s think about the neos that would be the most intimidated by your shared thot aura

dotae would be confused in different ways lol

taeyong would be just ????????????blush/awkward smile/hahaha??????

and doyoung might actually ask what is wrong with you

<points to jeno and his s/o> “why can’t you be like them”

mark would laugh-scream and slap his knee into oblivion whenever you two are cornering him

but then go super shy and be like “dUDE DON’T DO THAT”

resident confident gay jungwoo would rejoice in the attention and make so many goddamned jokes

a literal comedian i love him

i think sicheng and renjun would be on the same wavelength of repugnance towards you lol

chenle would deadass call you weird and tell you to leave him alone

shotaro and kun might faint (or kun will panic-scold you)

taeil is as confused by affection as usual (have you seen the face he makes when haechan kisses him LMFAO he’s smiling but like wondering wtf happened on the inside)

ten is not very amused but might play into it

yangyang: that’s disgusting, man (cue flashbacks to that live with renjun after the from home stage where renjun pretended to lick his hand and slick his hair back,,, catboy injun,,, you know the one)

xiaojun and hendery are such panicked gays they just turn to stare at whoever else is around and make that “help” expression like they’re on the office

haechan is haechan, kinda doesn’t mind it

jeno is used to dealing with this at this point

lucas and yuta love the attention but while yuta will flirt right back lucas is just gonna smile and try to jop his way out of there while screaming

sungchan will go hide behind haechan and say “hyung they’re being dumbasses again”

this turned into ‘how would nct react to you and jaemin being super flirty together’ and i’m not sorry

Chenle

chenle is so fun to write i love him lmao

okay so

he doesn’t strike me as the possessive type with anyone other than jisung (bc i swear he can be a bit jelly towards his bestie but i think it comes with sungie being the sweetest bean ever, he’s just protective)

he’s such a ray of sunshine and witty jokes and dolphin laughter i love him

back to the plot

he literally couldn’t care less about you biasing someone else

b u t

i will say there’s an exception

this exception is tall, kinda lanky, very awkward and born on the 5th of february

you’ve guessed it, it’s jisung

i think most of the time he’d tease THE SHIT out of you for it because c’mon

you had 22 chances not to mess up

and you still somehow ended up biasing jisung? lol do better next time

and this is not me and chenle hating on jisung, please—

he’d just find it funny that your bias is his best friend and

hold the fuck up

your bias is his best friend

oH NO NO NO NO NO

i think after realizing that he would lowkey try to keep you two apart because he’s somehow jealous of both????

and if he can’t help it then you can bet your ass he will be screaming all along

it’s his sweet, dummy jisung

with his sweeter and dummier y/n

what is he going to do

probably has a mini-breakdown with kun because like he’s always wanted you two to get along bUT NOT LIKE THAT

kun will just sigh like the tired father he is and pet his back while saying “there, there”

and a genius idea is going to come to chenle’s mind

you know the teasing thing?

well it’s upgrade time

he’s gonna turn into such a try-hard with tmi and embarrassing shit you two have done

and he’s not trying to stop you from being friends

he just wants you to like

know who you’re befriending

bc i think since he’s really really close to jisung, he doesn’t want you getting closer to him bc you like his idol side alone

and he doesn’t want jisung getting close to you just because you’re his partner either

if you had high hopes for each other and ended up kinda falling face-first into the ground bc it was nothing like you had imagined—

he’d be so broken

because he loves you so much :((((

so like, if you can get past the teasing and annoying barrier he’s putting up, he’ll be more than happy to have two of the most important people in his life being buddies

so get ready for it

if you’re the type of person to go batshit crazy when you drink, oh boy, oh boy

so you and the dreamies are just having dinner when lele feels like it’s the perfect time to disclose some of your drunken adventures

“hey y/n”

“yeah babe?”

“remember that time you got really really drunk on vodka and candy and wanted to call your mom”

“chenle the hell don’t talk ab—”

“but then you tried using the microwave as a phone”

“...”

“...”

“or that other time you were equally as drunk and watched the make a wish mv and cried because you noticed the height difference between xiaojun hyung and lucas hyung”

yeah so now’s the part you get up to chase him around the dorms and try to land a kick

BUT WORRY NOT, HE’LL MAKE SURE TO EMBARRASS JISUNG JUST AS MUCH

he likes doing that when it’s just the three of you though

so picture this

movie night the girls boys

chenle would 100% pick the most terrifying horror movie he can find so that he could see jisung clinging to whoever’s closest to him

and then right before a jumpscare, he’d whisper like

“jisung”

“w-what”

“why don’t you do that thing you were doing while you slept last night”

(honestly, i’d be mildly scared if i heard lele say this with no context at all)

and then the jumpscare happens and jisung is nearly fainting and crying at the same time

but chenle is laughing

and trying to get out what he wants to tell you between wheezes

“he-he” <dolphin wheeze> “hE WAS SINGING CHEER UP BY TWICE WHILE SLEEPING” <more wheezes>

and look this is just gonna go on for weeks until you and jisung are over it

and stop being weird and awkward around each other

lele needs you two to be bros ok

so be bros

once you do adapt to being pals with your bias i think chenle would take the teasing down a notch just to make you more comfortable

and like he’s so happy now the three of you can hang out and there’s just no tension

happy chenle is the thing i love the most i swear to gods

and if you don’t adapt to it?

well,,,

i honestly think he’d be pretty disappointed, cus it means to him one of you isn’t ready to fully embrace the weirdness within????

and like what u scared of

jisung is a weirdo, what about it, so are you

either that or he’d think you’re maybe being judgemental

so yeah please accept jisungie and your dumbass boyfriend

then everyone can be besties

i love thinking about the three of you as just this hellbound chaotic trio

because chenji already wreak havoc wherever they go as the two of them

but now that you’re coming along,,,,

no neo would escape from your pranks ever again (and even members of other groups lmfao watch out sehun, i’m talking to you)

and it’s so incredible infuriating in a good way that it just turns to be endearing

you’re cute as fuck so no one gets actually mad with the shit you pull????

which is dangerous, someone should really keep an eye out on the three of you 

we don’t need sm to be on fire

well we kinda do cus they’re pretty bad but not my point

i said somewhere above that chenle would tone the teasing down but i don’t mean he’d stop

bc c’mon guys

he’s chenle

no limits here

but sorry, i really cannot write jealous!chenle cus his heart is just too pure and filled with joy for him to be jealous for real

last scenario?

chenle after a comeback stage: ya y/n, i was gonna ask how was my performance today but you were probably more focused on jisung’s arms right

jisung is choking on water somewhere behind you

Jisung

it’s maknae time <plays i.n’s maknae on top>

i don’t mean to picture jisung as being like

ridiculously innocent or just downright naive because i really dislike it when people do that

he’s a literal 19 yo and jaemin himself has said he’s not as innocent as we think lol

however

i do see him as being quite new to all things love 

i think you’d probably be his first partner and with first relationships comes a lot of other firsts

first kiss maybe, first time holding hands, first time being jealous….

first time being jealous, yes, focus on that

i don’t think jisung would be aware that like

you not biasing him is even a possibility

cuz you’re dating

doesn’t that come along????

ah poor baby i love him

if you biased chenle i think he’d be just

disgusted and weirded out but okay?? you do you i guess???

he’s comfortable enough with lele to not feel intimidated

but if it’s another member

ESPECIALLY one of the oldest ones

i think it would be a blow straight to his confidence 

you biasing ten, kun, taeil, taeyong, doyoung or johnny and maybe yuta would make him feel a bit hesitant and concerned

his first thought would probably be that you don’t like being with someone as young as him

and who knows, maybe you’re even younger than him, maybe you’re the same age, but what if you actually like older guys??

what about him then???

and jisung doesn’t mean to feel so worried and insecure, ok, pls understand where i’m coming from

first relationships normally take like a very long time to build trust and acceptance of the other person’s feelings bc it’s literally a whole new world for you

and that goes extra hard for jisung because he is so fucking whipped for you it’s still hard to believe you like him as much

and it absolutely does not cross his mind that you’d cheat on him with your bias, GODS NO

he really respects you and his hyungs 

so no, never

that’s not a thing that can happen

but you realize you’re too good for him and maybe see he doesn’t fit your ideal type?

well, yes, that’s what he’s thinking

probably goes straight to chenle or renjun (he talks about renjun so much asjahj) to vent and ask for advice

i think they’d be surprised to see what’s going on inside his pretty little head because it’s so obvious for everyone that you just adore jisung

and they do tell him that

however, i don’t think it would completely calm his nerves, and again, this has nothing to do with not trusting you

it’s just that

his hyungs are so cool…

HE CAN’T HELP IT OK

would probably try to mirror your bias (i’m saying it’s taeyong for the sake of what i’ve imagined ok) and like

grasp onto some of his qualities?

so in his mind taeyong is: nice, sweet, caring, amazing, perfect, smart, perfect, sexy, mature and did i mention perfect

i can see him trying some new rap styles that mimic tyong’s a bit???

like would lowkey learn his raps from cherry bomb and superm’s one and listen to recordings frequently to pick up on how taeyong does it

i think he’d also just change the way he acts in general to dodge a bit from his maknae image

so now he tries to speak with a more formal-ish language and learns random facts about things you like to seem more intelligent???

“good morning y/n, you look as beautiful as one of voiello’s paintings today :]”

“wait i thought that was a pasta brand”

he’s just trying to show you he can be mature and serious if you want him to

long story short, he’s not acting like himself (not that he’s childish, he’s just out of it) and you don’t like it, so you ask about it and wait for him to feel comfortable with sharing

when he does talk about it breaks your heart so much :((

you’re going to need some patience to try and show him you’d choose him, and not your bias, even if you had the chance

they’re completely different people and you love him BECAUSE he’s jisung, not for any other reason

please reassure him so he can go back to acting like his authentic self, i think it would be such a relief for him too

your words and affection are obviously enough for him, but if it ever happens that he feels especially low and insecure again, it would help if your bias talks to him too

and taeyong wouldn’t have a problem with it

actually, scratch that, taeyong probably knew what was going on all along

he just has that motherly 7th sense (ay) that is even more acute with the dreamies cus like 

127 has him, wayv has kun, but dream has…

the dreamies

and that, my friend, is terrifying

anyway he’d come to talk to jisung asking like “what’s wrong buddy :(“ and sungie would be a bit ashamed because it sounds so silly when you say it out loud

of course tyong wouldn’t judge him, and he just really has to tell jisung what is it you and he are always talking about

it’s him

“when they come around to talk and hang out here it all goes back to you, jisungie. they can’t spend one second without mentioning your name

it’s so cute; it’s always like ‘oh jisung would love this’ or ‘jisung likes it that way’

so please be kinder to yourself and let yourself see that they’re in love with you, not with me and not with any other member they ever mention”

jisung would feel 10000000% better

and smiley

and giggly

and oh my god do you really talk about him that much

LOOK HE’S BLUSHING

would just go over to your house immediately and hug you, burying his face on your neck from behind you

and not let go

ever again

the whole situation just teaches him a lot about accepting your love for him and not questioning it 

shut up i’m not crying

---

final notes: this was my first work after the humanity series and it was so fun lol i think next up is probs gonna be an ideal type scenario for ot23 (but if i really write it i’m gonna post it by subunit and its gonna be way shorter than this, don’t expect 23K words at once lmao)

if you’ve enjoyed this fic please consider reading my humanity series, which is a zombie apocalypse au with kun <3

[spacedlexi]

violentine fic snippets 😳🍊💜 pls i need someone to read this

the last few paragraphs are now basically an unintentional direct middle finger to skybound

Violet and Clementine were tasked with fishing duty. The snow crunched under their feet as the two made their way out quietly towards the old shack. Although the both of them had become close during the ordeal with the raiders, a certain silence always seemed to settle upon them when they went down to the river, when they saw that busted up old truck. They both missed Brody, but it still hurt to think about her, and so they said nothing.

Clementine looked up towards the heavy clouds that hung above their heads, and her face twisted. These kinds of clouds once made her excited this time of year, but now it really only ever brought a sense of dread. Nothing good ever happens when it snows anymore.

The silence between the two was only broken once they finally made their way inside the shack, the both of them shivering as they stomped the snow off their boots.

"Fuck," Violet cursed as she rubbed at her arms, trying to generate some heat. Clementine was already making her way to the back of the small, cluttered room where the gear lay against the wall. Violet quickly joined the other girl's side, leaning down to grab one of the buckets.

As she did so, she kept her eyes averted from the carving in the wall that she was all too aware of.

That one hurt to think about too.

---

"Shit, Clem, I- I can't see anything!"

The girls both held their arms across their faces, trying to shield their eyes against the snow. They had tried to head for the school, but Clementine was still new to these woods, and if Violet couldn't tell where to go...

Frustrated, Clementine turned back, following their fresh tracks before they began to disappear. "Violet, we have to go back to the shack, we can't just stumble around out here." Just because walkers were slower in the winter didn't mean they couldn't still be a threat. She was getting wet from snow and sweat and it was chilling her to the bone.

"Fuck...fuck..." Violet quietly berated herself as she relented, turned and hurriedly caught up to Clementine's side, keeping close as to not get separated. She couldn't believe how quickly this weather had set in, and how much it obscured her vision. Violet had never been caught in such a storm before.

But it was not Clementine's first bad storm, and as the two trudged together through the snow, she wished they had just left with the few fish when they had the chance. Walking around, lost in the woods, in the snow and the blinding fog... It brought back dreadful memories.

---

Clementine still watched the other girl from the corner of her gaze, smiling in slight amusement at the frustrated pout on Violet's face. Her hair was slowly melting and it dripped off of her hands, soaking into the already damp fabric of her long sleeves.

Clementine would be lying if she said she didn't have deeper feelings for the other girl, but she had seen that heart carved deep into the wall. She knew what, or rather who "V+M" stood for, and she told AJ it meant they must've been a couple. Girlfriends...

After everything that had happened with the raiders... with Minnie... Clementine wasn't sure what Violet was feeling about that whole situation, and she didn't want to make the other girl feel like she had to talk about it. There's plenty of her own past that she'd rather not think about.

So Clementine kept her distance, even though she only wanted to be closer.

"You look like a wet cat." She finally piped up, trying to break through the last bit of tension.

"...Shut up..." It was a weak response behind a tiny, amused smile. Violet tried to hide it, turning her head away, but Clementine could see it, could hear the laugh in her voice.

---

She wasn't the most skilled at the craft, but Violet managed to cut the meat off of one of the fish, then used the bucket to fry their meal over the fire.

"I know it's been, like, practically a decade, but eating food like this sucks..."

Clementine laughed at that. "Trust me, there are worse things people are eating out there right now."

Violet gave a short laugh in return, "Oh yeah, didn't you say you ate a dude's leg once?"

"Hey, I said I was joking about that," Clementine playfully pushed Violet's shoulder with her own, and they both laughed. "I /almost/ ate a dude's leg once." But Clementine's laughter died down as the events of that evening from so long ago began to resurface in her mind.

There really weren't many happy memories left.

---

As Violet set the buckets by the fire, she noticed Clementine had removed her prosthetic. It rested now against the side of the hearth, its rabbit hide absorbing the heat. She looked at it fondly, the familiar leather strap and red lace making memories resurface in her mind.

"I still can't believe AJ and Willy really asked Lou and I to help them get your boot back," Violet said as she went to sit back down where she had been earlier, a tired smile on her face.

Clementine let out a short laugh as she watched Violet come back around. "Honestly? I can't believe you both said yes."

Violet was too embarrassed to say that she didn't even hesitate at their request, so instead talked about the others. "Well, Louis wasn't exactly /thrilled/ about the idea... Ha, you should've seen his face once we found it. And AJ just went over and picked it up like it was nothing." She adjusted her voice, trying to mimic the young boy, "He was all, /What? I cut it off, didn't I?/"

The story made Clementine laugh, at least a bit. It also made her unable to look away from the empty space where her left foot once belonged. She sighed, "Yeah, he's a brave kid..."

Then the room fell silent, and Violet began to worry if maybe she shouldn't have said anything. Clementine nor AJ had told the rest of the kids the full story of what happened to them out in the woods, but she doubted that it brought back any good memories. Before she could worry too much, Clementine spoke up once more.

"If he had listened to me... Well, let's just say, you don't know /how/ relieved I was when I woke up in my bed."

"Me too." The words left Violet's mouth before they even had a chance to filter in her brain, and she tensed. "Uh, I mean-" she scrambled to save face, "we all were, Clem..."

Violet remembered that night clearly. She remembered barely making it back to the school herself. She remembered that awful, sunken feeling in her chest when she realized Clementine and AJ were still somewhere out in the woods. She had wandered the old safe zone, too nervous to rest and too ashamed of herself to be around the others. She had just left them on the other side of that chain link fence. Clementine was injured and Violet had just... left her there.

"I just..." Violet hesitated, knowing something stupid was about to come out of her mouth, but she couldn't stop herself. "There were just so many times that night that I- uh..." she swallowed her stutter. "We were just so afraid that we'd never see you again..."

Clementine looked up at that, the words reminding her of ones she heard during that night in question. Tennessee had confessed to her just how lost and scared they had been on their own, and when Clementine turned to lock her eyes with Violet's, she could see that fear that Tennessee had talked about.

"Hey, I'm not going anywhere."

[abittersweetsongforyou]

wtfock fic recs part 2

saddle up for pt 2 babyyyy

wtfock fic recs pt 1

the underrated (just read them trust me they're brilliant)

wishing, wanting and longing by dottori

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart by orphan_account This isn't our first time around by noobishere this is us, through your eyes by dottori - with yasminas season starting id like to draw everyones attention to this fic from yasminas pov its sweet and sentimental and lovely and the fact that it has under 100 kudos is a fucking crime Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps) by berrevy - i love this author so much and this fic is so good, i love the way they're written here, the description is beautiful, 10/10 A morning without you is a dwindled dawn by Createdforyou - so soft i love seeing them just living their lives together Elayna Aan Zee by zetaphiuchi(ryuujitsu) - this one is sad and maybe sander forgives too quickly but its beautifully written and i love it you're an angel in disguise (you're an angel in my eyes) by thekardemomme - this is so sweet and lovely and warm everyone should read it I do now. by irregardlxss - robbe tells jens about the hate crime dreaming of you by ivy_seas - just them being happy at christmas time hold all my cliches on the tip of my tongue by nbrook - they're dorks and they're too horny for their own good but they love each other very much i've never been in love (but i wanna be, i wanna be) by ladypeaceful - what if sander took noors place at the party in episode 1 we have the stars (and this is given once only) by merengue - military au but also childhood friends and its so soft and beautiful and they love each other so much Agents Sliding Down The Chimney by berrevy - i seriously cannot recommend berrevy enough this is a christmas fic thats a little sad but also a whole lot sweet and very real which is what i like

angst bby

I follow you (deep sea, baby) by emotionalgoblin - sander pines in my mind, in my head by cubedmango - canon divergence for s3 last two episodes

gonna help you be free, honey by lamourestout - aftermath of the hate crime

We're always gonna be contaminated by nbrook - sander fucked upppp and everyone is sad but they communicate so its fine

the night we met by themoongirl - college au, sad boys :(((

show me some stars (beneath this ceiling) by peaceoutofthepieces - five times robbe wishes he could wake up next to sander and one time he does You're always there for me by nbrook - the s4 car accident aftermath (don't want anything) but all of you by MajorAccent - s4 car accident but extra extra angsty i know someone who kisses the way (a flower opens) by romantiser robbe and sander see each other again after sander paints the mural

sander and robbe being so in love it hurts

he is the one by themoongirl - marriage proposal im soft

I'm holding my breath, as the seasons change by bruisingknees - robbe moves out of the flatshare

new year's eve by themoongirl - sander is sad but robbe is soft

all you never say by nothingbutniall - fluffffff

you're the one that i want by themoongirl - sander needs reassurance

dark paradise by luckycharmz - sander is coming out of a low and robbe takes care of him

i was grounded (while you filled the skies) by wafflesofdoom - theyre in love okay

If a June night could talk, it would probably boast it invented romance by allforyoumylove - theyre childhood friends and theyre in love

oh my sunlight, sunlight, sunlight by alsjeblieft - sander painting robbe

Early Morning Dancing by teen_content_queen - flatmates dance in the morning v v cute

(inside my head) I've been at war by nothingbutniall - they're so soft pls

The sun came up and I was looking at you by allforyoumylove

Baby, Home Is In Your Arms by clarecas - robbe comes home to sander after his exam

don't be scared, you are my rock by peaceoutofthepieces - sander is sad but robbe is there purple lips (underwater) by dottori - fluff so much fluff i love it sm

in all your gorgeous colors by nothingbutniall - sander paints robbe you're still the that i love (the only one i dream of) by thekardemomme - i couldve also put this in the angst category but they just love each other so much its so beautiful My darling, I'm rooting for you by allforyoumylove - sander is having a depressive episode and robbe loves him fully formed, ready to run by MajorAccent - sander is down and robbe just wants to be with him paper rings by thekardemomme - they love each other so much and theyre going to get married one day i've always wanted a (boyfriend) by thekardemomme - christmas is sanders favourite holiday and robbe doesnt love christmas but he loves sander Come lie with me by allforyoumylove - they're roommates but they cuddle and fall in love glimpses by foxsake5 - theyre just living their lives, being in love, as they should

boyfriends being boyfriends

I absolutely adore you but we're absolute beginners by nbrook - sander is adorable

boy, i fucking got you by noobishere - yeah its rated e but its so sweet okay

Lovesick by szamsson - sander picks robbe up from school

you're a wonder under summer sky by nothingbutniall - boyfriends go camping

memories painted with much brighter ink by nothingbutniall - Christmas gift giving at the flatshare

we're keeping it simple by noobishere - eenvoud babyyyyy

Meet me in the hallway by nbrook - ahsdka Milan

double date. by fockinglevendcliche - double date with amber and aaron

back to the beach house. by fockinglevendcliche - sander wants to get it on and robbe is weak but their friends are assholes

take me with your constant shame by peaceoutofthepieces - cute date hold me close by sincerelysobbe - robbe is stressed and sander is the best boyfriend you charge me up (like electricity) by howlingsaturn - secret boyfriends if you say swim by soundnvision - another date another pool Modern Love by angelboygabriel - okay yes this is e rated but their. boyfriends and they're happy they're just also horny mkay You make me feel like I am whole again by nbrook - robbe has a rough day but sander is there being all cute and making it better I've been looking so long at these pictures of you by nbrook - much banter very cute You're my favourite kind of night by nbrook - at a halloween party finally kissing the right people Show me a piece of your heart, show me a piece of your love by nbrook - boyfriend tag for the broerrrs channel, unfinished but so much fun thus far working double time by noobishere - sander is wearing a turtleneck and he looks hot in it Ground Control by angelboygabriel - christmas clinging and sex because why not oh and they're in love hopeless romantics by thekardemomme - it's their anniversary and ugh they love each other sm sander driesen versus a mistletoe by dottori - its christmas and sander just wants to fucking kiss robbe okay high for this by flowermaze - sander is drowsy and still finds time to flirt with robbe All You've Got to Do Is Win by berrevy - they actually do play that tennis match years kept in minutes by peaceoutofthepieces - they have traditions and its adorable pls love is the opening door by cryingcancer - robbe and sander facetime on their anniversary after sander was sappy on instagram Home by foxsake5 - sander is a massive simp and robbe looks hot in a robe You don't have to say you're mine by nbrook - robbe is a little insecure and sander is there to reassure him Distracting by sincerelysobbe - v v v cute jahsdjah sander is weak for robbe we all understand bro February 14th, 2021 by foxsake5 - no words bro just cute af if we can make it through december (maybe we'll make it through forever) by nothingbutniall - sobbe at the christmas market This = Love by nbrook - robbe is hungover and sander loves to tease him They ain't living life like this by Createdforyou - halloween but this year they're together

sexy times

Woensdag 16:36 by Anonymous

i don't even wanna fuck, i just like you by eversincewefellapart

Vrijdag 18:26 by Anonymous - hurt and comfort

video phone by tokyometropolis(mesohorany) - quarantine times

Don't know where I'm going from here (but I promise it won't be boring) by skamsnake

snakebite by Anonymous

Zaterdag 09:58 by foxsake5

Wildfire by sincerelysobbe - no smut just kissing but they steamy

come on (mess me up) by MajorAccent - sex but tender 🥺

The Teenage Trifecta by little_but_fierce

i glow pink in the night in my room (blossoming alone over you) by midsummernightoddity

life is a pop of the cherry by icedwhitemocha - the hotel

Ik Win by Anonymous

In his arms tonight by allforyoumylove

long may he reign by tokyometropolis(meohorany) - well considered smut jsdhjhd

Draw Me Closer by skamsnake

When I live my dream (please be there to meet me) by skamsnake

we click, we go boom! by strangeparties Dark Red by nancy_mcfly - friends with benefits play the game of grown-ups by Anonymous - they have a lot of sex but its because they're in love

[piteouspeculiarity]

Defining Home: Extended Author's Note

Warning: This might contain spoilers for the series

(For clarity, when I say 'Tommy' etc in this post, I'm talking about the characters from my fics, not the content creators themselves.)

So it's done, huh? This note will include the sappy shit, the fun facts, then some of the more serious stuff, because I just didn't want to add an essay to the end of that chapter.

First of all, thank you all for the support along the way. Defining Home is easily my most popular series of fics I’ve ever written and I’ve been writing fanfic for years now. The comments and the kudos and the bookmarks were so very validating when I was new to the fandom, and still are. Hell, people have gifted me fics and written related fics to Defining Home, which blows my tiny mind. I haven’t gotten the chance to read a lot of them yet (procrastination I know thy name), but when I do, I’ll be leaving my best comments in thanks <3

I'll be honest, when I posted the first chapter of Enough, I never expected it to turn into what it did.

That first chapter was written in my phone notes at 3am, hours before an exam. I hadn't interacted with the fandom at all at that point, didn't even have a Tumblr for it, but boy oh boy did I get a warm welcome.

The point is, that first chapter was a very spur in the moment thing, mainly consisting of one scene I couldn't get out of my head (Tommy on a train to Wilbur's). I've gotten a few people telling me since then that they wished that they could write as well as I can, which is a huge compliment, but every person can write a fic like Enough. There are things that we all struggle with when it comes to writing: dialogue, prose, starting scenes - I have my own things I struggle with, things you might have noticed, things you might have not. You don't have to be a perfect writer to tell a story, especially in fandoms, where betas are easy to come across.

Write your story, even if its just for yourself. Posting that chapter gave me the chance to make new friends and I'll never stop being grateful for that.

One of those friends is Kat, who I've mentioned a couple times in the author's notes, but who honestly, I owe a lot to. Kat has encouraged me and been one of the main motivators to write this fic when I felt like it would never be finished, or that I'd never live up to other people's expectations. Sometimes, that meant motivating in some weird ass ways, but hey, it worked.

People who know me in discord servers might know that I'm a simp for Kat and it's damn true. Kat, I love you, you've improved my life more than you know in the last couple months and you deserve so, so much happiness.

In fear of love reciprocation from Kat, we'll move swiftly on to the more fun side of things.

Anyone feel like fun facts? You might already know some of these because I tend to overshare in author's notes, but I'm pretty sure some of them are new to all of you.

Barney the dog? Named after my own late labrador, who I love very much and loved to jump in lakes and need rescuing, time and time again.

I had no plans in moving Tommy in with Techno, hell, I had no plans in Techno moving to England at all. It was as much of a surprise to me as it was to everyone else when he told Tommy the news, but I latched onto the idea and ran with it. I think it worked out okay, in the end.

Techno has a draw in his bedroom full of parenting books, most of which were stolen from Phil.

After Tommy asked for help about what to do with Dream, Wilbur sent Dream a dm telling him he better not fuck anything up and if he did, Wilbur would not hesitate to humiliate him in front of millions of people. It was unnecessary, of course, but Dream was definitely a bit more cautious about what he said when he listened to Tommy’s explanation.

Some of my favourite things about writing Defining Home:

The Tesco v Asda discourse. Look, some of you just need to accept that Asda is the superior shop and get off your Tesco stanning bullshit. /j

The offers I would get for new chapters, some honourable mentions being newborns, siblings, diamonds and kidneys.

Now, I know that as much as I tried to, I won't have managed to include everything that everyone wanted from Defining Home, whether that's certain confrontations or scenes, I am sorry if I haven't included.

I don't imagine myself writing any more in the series, not because I think there isn't more I could write about, but because as a whole it feels complete to me, and any added oneshots I write would disturb that.

Right now Defining Home feels well rounded in a way that I'm proud of. The minute I realised that Enough was going to turn into a series I planned out how I wanted it to work. Maybe its just the maths part of my brain, but I like how there's three fics, with three chapters in each and how Tommy heals as you progress throughout the series.

My aim for the series was for the tone to get lighter as you went through, because yes, things kept happening (confrontation with dad, beach incident etc) but the point was that Tommy dealt with those things in different ways that he would have earlier on in the series. I have lots of thoughts and lots of emotions about how he felt safe enough with his family to experience nightmares and such. I made an effort in The Truth Behind Family to include more fluff, especially in the last two chapters, because I think it’s important to show that yeah, his parents’ abuse effected him, but it didn’t dictate how he lived his life. 

Like yes, I could write about their first Christmas together, for example, and add it onto the series, but I don’t think that I’d be able to do the rest of the series justice in that. Defining Home is largely about what the title implies, Tommy discovering what words like ‘home’ and ‘family’ mean beyond what he’s been told he’s stuck with and I believe that by the end of the series, he’s been successful in that. 

I'm so proud of the characters I wrote, Tommy in particular, for how far they've come in Defining Home, but I think that in a way, it’s time for me to let them go.

That’s not to say I’m done with writing for sbi! Hell no! 

I have a couple long fics in the works and a one shot I’m working on. The main fic I’m excited to focus on now Defining Home is finished is heavy heart, heavy head, heavy hero which, to put it simply, is an sbi royalty au, where unfortunate circumstances mean Tommy is forced to become King. It’s going to be a little more plot focused than Defining Home was and I am so very pumped to give it my full attention instead of leaving that lonely one chapter on AO3 like I have been doing.

I was 🤏close to making a Discord server, but ultimately decided I’m much more suited to causing chaos on other people’s servers than running my own. I think at this point the karma would be too great to even consider making my own server, so if you’d like to talk to me on Discord, keep an eye for me on other people’s servers - I mainly lurk, but I’m pretty active on one or two :D

On a more serious note, Defining Home deals with some heavy topics and I’ve had comments tell me that they relate to Tommy’s situation and wish that they had their own found family to run to. 

This Tumblr post has a list of phone numbers and places you can contact if you need help or want someone to talk to. Saying that, I recognise that a list as long as that can be daunting, so feel free to shoot me a message and I can either help you find the right one for you, or keep you company for a bit if you need it. 

Not all of us are lucky enough to have our own found family, but that doesn’t mean that you won’t forever, or that you’re alone. My dms and ask box are always open if you want someone to talk to.

Keep yourselves safe <3

- Lee 

[hxwks-gf]

ー don’t make me beg

pairing: bakugo x reader

summary: you run into bakugo, your ex-boyfriend, at a party. heated confessions ensue. 

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, some suggestive themes, bakugo is a subby simp at the end lmfao i couldn’t resist. everyone is 21+ because drinking

w/c: 2.7k 

a/n: so this thought actually came to me randomly in the middle of the night last night and i just now got around to writing it out. for optimal reading experience, listen to these songs as you read (i’ll put another link in the actual fic as a reminder, idk you don’t have to i just thought it would be fun) 

♫  outre lux - onism

♫  fire for you - cannons

♫  all your love - jakob ogawa

9:27 PM

“I don’t know,” you sighed into the phone, rolling over on your back and kicking your feet up against the wall of your bedroom. You wiggled your toes in their mismatched socks and pouted. “I’m not really in a party mood tonight, Mina.” 

“C’mon,” she whined on the other end, in that strange “Mina” way that almost always got you to say yes. “Just for a little bit! We’ve been working so hard at the agency, we deserve a night off for once!” 

You sighed again and sat up normally, resting your chin in your hand. She had a point: you were both worked to the bone from the seemingly endless patrols and stacks of paperwork. Who knew that this is where you would end up at after graduation? Your eyes flickered over to your closet, already putting an outfit together in your head. “Alright, fine. But only for a little bit.” 

Mina squealed in excitement. “Perfect! This will be good, I promise.” 

♫  outre lux - onism

Not long after the call had ended, Mina came and picked you up and drove you to a different part of town you vaguely recognized. She led you up the steps of an apartment building, and you could already hear the bass of the music reverberating through the walls. The room was a few floors up and at the end of a long hall with the door propped open. Mina carelessly let herself inside, dragging you with her by your hand. 

“Mina!” a familiar voice called over the music. Your eyes wandered along the various groups of partygoers, admiring the glow from the neon signs that decorated the walls. There were a few people you recognized: Midoriya and Ururaka were awkwardly dancing together, with Iida not too far away from them. There were others from your graduating class, including Kirishima, who was walking towards you and Mina with a wide grin on his face. 

“You made it!” he said, stopping in front of you. “Thanks for coming, you guys! Help yourselves to some drinks, there’s also some pizza left, I think.” 

Mina hugged him. “For sure! But right now, I just really want to dance.” She turned towards you and raised her eyebrows. “Wanna come?” 

“I’ll be okay,” you said as you ushered her forward. “I’ll find you later, alright?” 

She nodded and disappeared into the group of people, leaving you alone with Kirishima, who awkwardly rubbed the back of his head. 

“It’s awesome that you came, y/n,” he said, flashing another grin. “Wasn’t sure if you were going to.” 

You shrugged your shoulders. “Mina has a way with words, you know?” 

Kirishima laughed. “That she does.” 

“So if this is your party….” Your words trailed off as your eyes slid across the faces of everyone in the room, feeling like everything was slowing down around you. A slow, bass-boosted song started playing. “...does that mean Katsuki is here?” 

Your gaze answered your own question once they landed on your ex-boyfriend standing off in the corner with Kaminari. He was arguing with him about something, his hand tightly gripping the red solo cup and the other pointed menacingly at Denki’s goofy expression. God, he looked good. He was wearing your favorite shirt of his: a simple black v-neck, paired with his nicest jeans that hugged his ass perfectly. For a brief moment, you met Kaminari’s eyes, and his face changed. He leaned over and whispered something in Bakugo’s ear. 

Bakugo’s head turned and his crimson gaze landed on you standing near the entrance with Kirishima. You swallowed nervously, staring right back at him, and it felt as if the entire room melted away and left just the two of you. 

“...sorry, I should’ve told Mina ahead of time,” you heard Kirishima saying to you. You squeezed your hands into fists at your sides. 

“It’s alright,” you found yourself replying. You broke your gaze from Bakugo and offered Kirishima a reassuring smile. “We’re adults here, right? I came to relax and have fun.” 

The lie almost sounded believable. But Kirishima said nothing about it and simply returned your grin, pushing you towards the kitchen. “Get a drink or two in you,” he said, blocking Bakugo from view. “I’m sure Mina needs a dance partner soon.” 

♫  fire for you - cannons

“Right,” you laughed, and he left you alone in the kitchen. Once he was out of earshot, you released the nervous breath you had been holding and tried to still your trembling hands. It had been just a few months since you and Bakugo had “mutually” split, but in reality, it had been his idea. He wanted to focus on his career and you wanted to get more serious. As you opened the refrigerator, you remembered the teary, sniffling goodbye you gave him on the steps of your apartment building as he carried a box of his stuff. He didn’t so much as bat an eye. 

“You’re an adult, you’re here to have fun, just don’t think about him,” you muttered to yourself as you cracked open a bottle of cider. 

“Think about who?” 

You jumped in surprise and nearly dropped your drink. “Jesus,” you groaned, and then glared at Bakugo standing in the doorway, his hands tucked into his jeans. “Don’t fucking sneak up on someone like that.” 

The corner of his mouth lifted up in a smile. “You were always so easy to scare.” 

A blush crept into your cheeks and you looked away from him. “What do you want?” you asked, taking a sip of your drink. The floor of the kitchen suddenly became incredibly fascinating as you avoided meeting his eyes. 

“Didn’t think you’d be here tonight,” he said. “Did Raccoon Eyes con you into it?” 

“Don’t call her that,” you said sharply, looking up at him again. “And no, she didn’t con me into it. I wanted to come.” You gave him a once-over. “What are you doing here, anyway? You hate things like this.” 

Bakugo leaned against the doorframe and shrugged. “Kirishima said that if I came, other people would too. Guess I’m just popular.” 

“Right,” you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes and fiddling with the bottle in your hands. “I don’t think popular is the right word I would use.” 

He took a few steps closer to you and you could smell his cologne. It was the scent he knew you loved the most, you noticed. Interesting. Wearing your favorite shirt and your favorite cologne? It was almost like he knew you were planning on coming tonight. 

“What’s the word you would use then?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly as he leaned back against the sink, his hands bracing on the edge of the counter on either side of him. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being overpowered, so you stood your ground and refused to move from your spot, taking another drink of cider. 

“What are you talking about?” you asked, risking a glance at him. You instantly regretted it. He was looking at you with that rare expression of admiration that only you ever had the privilege of seeing behind closed doors when the two of you were still together, but it still made your heart beat faster and faster, even now. 

“The word you would use,” he said, blinking slowly at you. “Or do I still have that effect on you? That makes you forget what you were saying?” 

“You’re so full of shit, I need a plunger,” you snapped, turning away from him and escaping to the other side of the kitchen. “What are you doing? Why are you talking to me?” 

For a moment, Bakugo actually looked….hurt. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed, but a brief moment and it was gone. “I’m sorry,” he said tightly, crossing his arms. “Enjoy the party, y/n.” Without letting you reply, he stalked out of the kitchen and disappeared from view, leaving you all alone, confused and trembling and….sad. 

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, and you stared at the bottle in your hands. You blew a raspberry at it and tipped it back, downing the rest of the cider in a few, full gulps. He wasn’t allowed to ruin the fun you were supposed to be having tonight. You tossed the bottle into the recycling bin and left the kitchen. 

“y/n!” Mina called to you from the middle of the living room, where most of the dancing was. She was swaying and shimmying to the song that was playing, her hands in the air and her face in a state of perpetual happiness. “Dance with me!” 

“Alright,” you laughed, slipping into the midst of the dancers and following her movements. After a while, you felt yourself slowly beginning to relax, nearly forgetting your awkward encounter with Bakugo in the kitchen. You deserved this. You deserved to have fun, and he wasn’t going to take it from you. 

“I hear that He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named is here,” Mina said into your ear over the music with a comedic grimace on her face. “Did he talk to you?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, in the kitchen. He was acting weird.” 

“Probably because you looked hot as fuck tonight and he realized what exactly he’s been missing,” she said. Her eyes lit up with mischief. “What if you made him jealous?” 

“I don’t want anyone getting wheeled out of here on a gurney,” you laughed, but the thought remained in the back of your head. You did look good tonight, and there was bound to be someone who wanted to have a couple dances with you. But what would you gain from it? It would just be sending Bakugo the message that you weren’t over him yet (which was true, but he didn’t need to know that). “I think I just want to dance, have a few more drinks, and that’s it.” 

Mina rolled her eyes but nodded. “Fair enough.” 

But as hard as you tried to forget, your mind kept going back to Bakugo. His scent, his voice, his warmthーyou fucking missed him, you missed him so much it hurt. Seeing him for the first time in months from across the room had hit you like a truck and flooded your mind with memories of his kiss, his touch, and his love. The harder you danced, the heavier it weighed on your mind, until a pit of nausea bubbled in your stomach. 

“I think I’m going to take a break,” you said to Mina over the music. The room suddenly felt cramped and small, with too many people and too much noise. You needed fresh air. But as you slipped out of the group of dancers, you saw that the patio was full of people standing around and mingling. 

“Shit,” you muttered, and turned around to make your way to the bathroom. It was so loud. Were there this many people when you first came here? 

♫  all your love - jakob ogawa

As you moved past bodies standing in the hallway, you were sure you heard someone call your name, but you didn’t stop until you were safely behind the door of the bathroom. The music was muffled and shook the walls as you leaned against the sink, glaring at your reflection. 

“Get it together,” you hissed at yourself. “It’s just a fucking party.” 

Someone knocked outside, startling you. “In use!” you called out. 

“It’s me,” Bakugo’s voice came from the other side. “Can you let me in?” 

You felt your heart drop. He was the last person you wanted on the other side of that door. But somehow, you found your hand twisting the knob and cracking it open, meeting his eyes through it. 

“You alright?” 

“I’m fine,” you lied, trying to keep your voice level. 

“You sure?” Bakugo knew you weren’t telling the truth.  

“Yes,” you replied, but your voice cracked on the word. You squeezed your eyes shut and inwardly groaned. You could smell his scent again, as well as feel the ever-present warmth that never seemed to leave him. 

Before you could protest, Bakugo was pushing the door open and letting himself in, careful to close and lock it behind him. You backed away and sat on the edge of the bathtub, not wanting to meet his eyes. However, he knelt in front of you and tilted his head to the side, bracing his hands on either side of you. 

“What’s going on?” he asked, and his voice rumbled through you like a waterfall. 

“Rich of you to ask that,” you muttered, feeling the shameful sting of tears in your eyes. 

He sighed. “I really am sorry for what happened, y/n.” 

This wasn’t like him to apologize so brazenly. You risked a glance up at him, and he was looking at you so intensely, you immediately averted your gaze. But a brief moment later and you felt his index finger beneath your chin, slowly lifting it so you were forced to look at him again. 

“Why are you doing this?” you whimpered, a single tear slipping out and sliding down your cheek. “We broke up, Katsuki. You wanted to break up.” 

His jaw set. “I know,” he growled, his thumb reaching up and swiping the tear away. “But I just...I can’t imagine you with anyone else. I can’t imagine being with anyone else.” 

“Stop it,” you sniffled, pulling your chin away and swatting at his hand. “Stop. You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to hold me on the end of a leash like this, and tightening it whenever you’re in your feelings. At the end of it all, you were the one who left, Katsuki. And it’s not fair to me.” 

He stared at you with wide eyes. For a minute, he looked like the regular Bakugo. But it passed, and he dropped his eyes in shame. 

“I know it’s not fair,” he muttered, sitting back and resting his arms on his knees. He stared at his hands. “I don’t know why I’m doing it. It’s just...seeing you tonight for the first time in months, you looked so fucking beautiful and I felt so fucking stupid.” 

You looked down at him from where you sat on the edge of the tub, your eyes blurring with tears. “What do you want from me, Katsuki?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“I want you to come home!” he exploded, looking up at you with a fierceness in his eyes, it almost frightened you. “I fucking miss you, alright? I hate waking up in an empty bed in the mornings.” He ground his teeth and glared at his hands again. “I miss your laugh. I miss those goddamn stupid songs you would play when you did the dishes. I just miss you.” 

You closed your eyes and took a trembling breath. “So what are you saying?” you asked, feeling your fingernails dig into your palms. “Do you want to get back together? Is that what you want?” 

“Don’t make me beg,” you heard him mutter. 

Oh. Oh. Your eyes opened and you looked down at him again. He saw the wicked glint in your gaze and he ran his hands through his hair with a scoff. 

“No,” he said, glaring at you. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“That sucks,” you simpered. “I’ll see you around then, Katsuki.” You made to get up and leave the bathroom, but his hand shot out and wrapped around your wrist, forcing you to stop. 

“y/n,” he growled. 

You arched an eyebrow down at him. “Yes?” 

A moment passed and he forcefully exhaled through his nose, as if working himself up to something. 

“Please,” he finally spoke through gritted teeth. 

“Please what?” 

“Can we please try again?” Bakugo asked, his fingers tightening around your wrist. 

You reached down and lifted his chin with an index finger, much like he did with you. His crimson eyes burned so hot as they met your own, and you smiled at him. 

“I like it when you beg,” you murmured, and a furious blush blossomed across his cheeks. “You should do it more often.” 

“Is that a yes?” he asked as he got to his feet, now towering over you. 

“Perhaps,” you mused, taking your bottom lip in between your teeth. “I’ll decide in the morning after you’ve made me breakfast.” 

“Breakfastー?” Bakugo stopped and grinned. “Oh, you think you’re funny, do you?” His hands wrapped around your waist and he pulled you into his chest, dipping his head to brush a gentle but sultry kiss across your lips. “Good enough for me.” 

[bbrandy2002]

Happy Birthday Burnsy!

The Country AU -- I'm Gonna Live Where The Green Grass Grows

Pairing: Drake x Alyssa, Liam x Riley, and a whole host of other TRR characters.

A/N: This was a silly little idea I had months ago for an AU built around the places and people where I grew up. I never had plans to actually write it, but I mentioned it to Burns, and well ... she wanted it lol so here we are. And she’s already read half of this and is the one who made the mood board for it and the song inspo hahaha. Thank you to @mskaneko for the edits of our OTP’s, and @charlotteg234 for pre-reading the first half of this.

Trigger warning: Gun usage, hunting, mild language ... I think that’s it

@burnsoslow

My dearest friend, when I think back at where we were one year ago, I can’t help but be reminded of the vastly different world we live in now. On February 5, 2020, there was no covid keeping us sheltered and fearful, families were complete, jobs were stable, and so many of the things we worried about then simply pale in comparison to now, Life wasn’t so bad. But here we are with all these new changes and mindsets. Through it all, one thing remained consistent: YOU. You have been my strength, my rock, the anchor that grounded me. We have cried together, laughed a lot together, worried for each other, and celebrated those small victories that were important to each other. And I get so happy when someone comments about how much they love the friendship between Riley and Alyssa because it's the most real part of Fearless. If anyone ever wanted to know what we’re like, it's all written out in that story. I’ve got your back, and you have mine. You’re my best friend and I just love the hell out of ya! I hope your birthday is amazing and that this fic is everything you wanted for this AU.

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

On Sunday mornings in southern Georgia, you did one of two things: You woke up early for church services or woke up late to watch NFL football.

Some people figured out a long time ago how to do both.

Sitting in the back pew of the First Cordonian Church of Everlasting Peace, Alyssa Walker sat quietly with the sweetest southern belle smile, nodding her head along to the beautiful words spoken during Pastor Hakim’s sermon and hiding a pair of earbuds lodged in each ear. 

She and her husband, Drake, had laid claim to the pew when they were teens trying to sneak a kiss or two during prayers. After ten years of marriage, they no longer needed to sneak kisses but stayed in that same seat, believing the biggest sinners should stay as far away from the minister as possible. Why be the barrier that may prevent the spirit from reaching the rest of the congregation? The couple felt it was the least they could do.

They were actually pretty good folks and well respected in their community. Alyssa had taught first grade for eight years at the local elementary school, where her two children, nine-year-old Audrey and six-year-old Patrick, also attended. Her best friend since third grade, Riley, was the art teacher there. 

Drake worked nearby as the lead mechanic at Rys and Sons Chevrolet out on North Ramsford Avenue. Constantine had owned the auto dealership for 35 years before passing it down to his sons, Leo and Liam, when he ran for and became the town's mayor. Leo peaced out, heading to South Florida, while Liam took on the sole responsibility of ownership himself. 

And while most people in this sleepy little town of Cordonia were Falcons fanatics, Alyssa grew up rooting for the team where her parents were born and raised before settling in Georgia as newlywed lawyers: The Chicago Bears.

With the game against the Packers blaring into her ear, she kept a keen eye on the rest of her fellow parishioners. When they clapped, she clapped. When they sang, she sang. She raised her hands in hallelujahs when they did. She had learned to read lips and could “Amen” and “Praise God” right on cue with the rest of them. All the while, she sat in contentment, listening to her weekly football games. 

“The score with 14 seconds left in the second quarter is Chicago -- 14, Green Bay -- 17. The Bears have the ball on the 5-yard line. It’s third and goal. If Trubisky can score here, they’ll go into the locker room at halftime with a lead for the first time in this game, or possibly tie it all up with a field goal after this down. This is a huge, HUGE play, Jim ...” 

Alyssa twined her fingers together and lowered her forehead onto them as she waited with bated breath for the announcer to call the play-by-play. As far as anyone else knew, she was praying fervently for the Hebrews crossing the parted Red Sea away from Pharoah's army that the pastor was chronicling.

“And here comes the snap. Trubisky backs up. He tosses to Robinson in the end zone. OHHH! So close… batted away by Alexender …”

“JESUS!” Alyssa yelled out in anger. With earbuds in, she didn’t realize how loudly that just came out of her mouth. Drake nudged her in the thigh. She glanced over at him for a second before he nodded to the 123 pairs of eyes that had all turned at once in her direction. It instantly dawned on her that everyone in the congregation heard the outburst.

Feeling the color drain from her face, Alyssa placed a hand over her chest and addressed, “I am soooo into this sermon, Hakim. Woohoo! Go, Jesus, go!” She pumped her fist in the air like she was rooting him on.

Drake dropped his face onto Patrick’s shoulder, who was sitting on his lap, to cover the incessant laughter that threatened to spill out of him. He was doing a terrible job of it, as a momentary burst of muffled snickers could be heard through the sound of the game playing in Alyssa’s ear. Her husband was nothing but a big kid himself -- she wouldn’t change that for anything.

“Mommy,” Audrey whispered next to her. “It’s about Moses. Not Jesus.”

Alyssa smiled, patting her daughter’s knee. “Same thing, baby. They both performed miracles.” She cut her eyes to the phone hidden under the cardigan draped across her thighs. “And the Bears need a miracle right now, guys,” she muttered, “Part those shithead Packer’s defensive line, Lord. It’s time to help my Bears get to the promised land.”

“Going for it on fourth down, Trubisky drops back. The Packer defense is putting a lot of pressure on the Bear’s offensive line. Every man is covered in the end zone. He has no one to throw to, Jim. They’re running out of time. Four seconds left. And, NOOO, they sack Trubisky on the 10-yard line … WAIT THE BALL IS LOOSE … THE BALL IS LOOSE ... he fumbled the ball. The Packers are scrambling to get it. There are green and white jerseys all over that ball. BUT LOOK … Green Bay’s Klark picks it up. He’s running the other way … and he just slipped … he just slipped, and the football fell right into the hands of Chicago’s Robinson --”  

Alyssa grabbed Drake’s thigh, her fingers digging deeply with hope and panic. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” her stressed words weren’t audible to the crowd, but they were speaking volumes in her heart.

“--Robinson’s on the 20, now 15, he’s sweeping past the defense to the 10 -- 5 -- TOUCHDOWN, CHICAGO!!!”

"FUCK YES!" Alyssa jumped up, her arms outstretched in a V shape. “Hallelujah. Holy shit. Thank ya, Jesus.” She let out a huge sigh of relief, feeling nothing short of elated, not concerned in the slightest by the heads that twisted around again.

Hakim stood slack-jawed from the raised platform for a moment, his tallish physique slouching on the pulpit, before adjusting the microphone and clearing his throat deeply. "I'm certainly glad, Sister Alyssa is ... feeling the spirit this morning."

"I am feeling it, Brother Hakim," She shook her head profusely. "I. Am. Feeling it." She shot him a dimpled grin.

Drake snorted loudly, covering his face with one hand and grabbing the side of her dress to pull her back down with the other.

They turned to each other, neither one able to control the snickering and shaking of their bodies. Drake lifted a sleeping Patrick over his shoulder while Alyssa grabbed Audrey's hand; the Walker couple decided they were too immature for church this morning.

They laughed all the way to the parking lot.

"It's never a dull moment with you, baby girl," Drake chuckled, turning over the ignition.

"You know me …” She blew on her nails before rubbing them against her chest. “... just doing the Lord's work." 

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

It was customary in Cordonia for families to gather together each week for a big supper after church. 

The Walkers traditionally took turns hosting with Liam and Riley, and Constantine and Regina. This week's meal was at the elder Ryses.

Sitting down at the dining room table, everyone licked their chops, hungry and ready to dig into all the made-from-scratch southern goodness Mrs. Regina had prepared: Fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, coleslaw, macaroni and cheese, green beans with hamhock, corn-on-the-cob, deviled eggs, biscuits, sweet tea, and coffee. It was all accompanied by two containers of broccoli salad, Alyssa picked up from the Piggly Wiggly deli after church, and Riley's lopsided carrot cake.

There was always a lot of food, a lot of love, and what would it be in a small town without a little gossip here and there.

"Regina, you've outdone yourself on this meal," Liam raved while placing his five-month-old son in a high chair and fastening the clasps. "If it tastes as good as it smells, we're all in for a big treat."

Everyone agreed as she sat down, Constantine pushing her chair in with a peck to the top of her head. "Thank you, Liam." She looked up at her husband with a sincere smile, rubbing his arm. "Only the best for our family."

She meant every word of that as she and Constantine glanced around the table at all the cheerful faces of the people they loved most — that included Drake and his family. 

Drake's father had been the sheriff for many years before his untimely death, while the younger Walker was a teen. Connie had never met a braver, more hard-working man than Jackson; the now mayor stepped in after that death to be the father figure in Drake's life. Drake was already best friends with Liam, and over time, the family just considered him one of their own. Drake and Alyssa's children referred to them as Mamaw and Papaw Rys.

As everyone settled in and passed the food around the table, the doorbell rang; 7-year-old Ellie -- Liam and Riley's oldest -- jumped up to answer it. With everyone focused on getting their helpings, Riley leaned over and whispered to Alyssa, "Any more scoop on Savannah?"

Alyssa passed the potatoes to her and answered in a hushed tone, "I drove past her house yesterday ... Chuck was there. His big rig was backed right up into the driveway. They're not even trying to hide it anymore."

"I knew it." Riley slapped a scoop of potatoes onto her plate, passing them across to Liam. "When does Bertrand get back from that Bankers Convention in Atlanta?"

"I think Max said on Tuesday. And I guarn-damn-tee, Chuck will be there until then."

"Of course he will. Have you told Drake yet?"

Alyssa shook her head, peeking over at her husband, who was in hog heaven, dousing everything on his plate with white gravy, blissfully unaware of their idle chitchat. She turned back to Riley. "Not yet. You know how protective he is. I'll need to hide the gun cabinet keys when he finds out ... if he finds out. You remember how upset he got when Bianca got caught at the Love's Truck Stop with Landon Ebrim over the summer. His mama can do what she wants, but not with a married man."

Riley agreed with a nod before taking a sip and swallowing her sweet tea. "Ya know, I've never seen sweet Emmaline that angry."

"Yeah, me neither. She sure whopped ass that day." They both giggled lightly. "Landon's dentures flew clean across that truck lot."

"I saw her the other day at the Food Lion, grinnin' like a baked possum. Got that ol' dog for everything he had."

Alyssa huffed, "Cept' his nuts."

Ellie ran back in and hopped in her chair. "Miss Olivia is here!"

Alyssa stiffened, clutching her fork a little tighter before letting out a faint groan. Not that she didn't like the Assistant Principal of Cordonia Elementary -- she was her boss, after all, and they grew up together -- she could just be a little off-putting, sometimes with her treatment of Drake. In light of Olivia's recent divorce, she had, however, started directing most of her scorn on her ex-husband, Anton.

Everyone greeted Olivia as she strolled in behind the youngster, shrugging her jacket off and tossing it on a counter with her purse. "I smelled your chicken and taters all the way from Lythikos Drive, Regina. You know how I love a good rib stickin' meal."

"Is Travis and Waylon here?" Patrick piped up eagerly from the children's table, hoping to have some boys to play with rather than the three little girls who kept ganging up on him.

Olivia pulled out a chair and started loading her plate down. "They're with their daddy this weekend, sugar. I'll tell them you asked about them."

Drake lifted his coffee mug, not making eye contact with anyone. "Speaking of ... I saw Anton yesterday at the Dollar Tree ... with someone." He smirked into his drink. While everyone else knew who and was trying to avoid the elephant in the room, he owed her for years of squabble.

"Who? Madeleine?" Olivia spat, adding heaping spoonfuls of sugar to her already overly sweetened tea. "Bless her rotten heart, he was seeing her before our break up. Moved in with her right after the divorce was final, so I hope she's enjoyed cookin' and cleanin' after my youngins' all weekend, cause she's gonna be doin it a hell of a lot more now that she got herself fired."

Madeleine was a bank teller in the drive-thru at First Cordonia and also Leo's ex-fiancee. 

"Madeleine got fired?" Alyssa asked in surprise. "She's been there for years."

The redhead swirled the sugar around in her tea with a spoon before licking it off and continuing, "Mmm-hmm. Bertrand caught her on video, stuffing her gaudy drawers into the vacuum tubes at the bank and sending them to that bastard when he drove through to make a deposit. He was making deposits alright. Right between her scrawny, cankled ass --"

"Olivia!" Liam quickly interjected, knowing once she got going, it would likely turn R-rated with several little ears listening. "I'm dying to hear how the Christmas Festival for next Saturday is coming along." He shot a look across the table at Drake for getting her worked up. Drake simply grinned.

By late afternoon, supper had been eaten, dishes cleaned, and pants unbuttoned. After a couple of hours of chatting on the back porch and watching the kids play, the two younger couples packed up leftovers Regina insisted they take home and were ready to hit the road. 

Liam and Riley lived next door and walked out with the Walkers who were making their way to the Tahoe parked on the street.

Alyssa bounced and cooed over baby Jacob before handing him back to Riley and getting into the vehicle's passenger seat. 

Liam was leaning into the driver's side window, having a casual discussion with Drake about the opening day of deer season next Saturday and asking what time he wanted to head out.

Alyssa was half-listening and half-working the stereo when an idea popped into her head. "You know what would be fun?” Both men stopped talking and glanced over at her. “We should all go?”

Drake knit his brows. “Go where?

“Hunting. We can make it a double date. You and me, Riley and Liam. The great outdoors. Some quality time together. I’ll even make snacks for everyone. It’ll be fun,” her voice was chipper. She was excited about it. 

She was also deadly serious. 

So were the dubious looks Drake and Liam gave each other over the thought of taking their wives on the most important hunting event of their year. Not that either didn't enjoy spending time with their significant others, but hunting was a whole different world. It was a one-person sport where you spent the day away from reality and responsibilities and just enjoying the great outdoors —a place to be alone and experience the thrill of a good hunt.

“Guys, I’m serious. We go fishing together, and I’ve shot targets plenty of times. I really wanna go hunting with you. Riley wants to go too, don't you?” She cast an inquisitive glance out her window at Riley, who glared back with the biggest what-the-fuck look she'd ever made. “See, she wants to go too.”

“Baby,” Drake began softly, giving her knee light squeezes. “I don’t mind taking you, but this is opening day. We’ll be in the woods for hours, in the cold. It’s not really what someone would consider a ‘date.’ And we’re going to the Festival that night … we’ll get a chance to spend time together there.”

She held his gaze as her lips began to quiver. “I understand. You .. you need time to be away from me, and it was a dumb idea anyway --”

“No,” Drake cut in. His heart plummeted from the sadness in her voice and eyes. “That’s not it at all. I love spending time with you. And if you really want to do this, then … let’s do this.”

“Really? We can go together?” Drake nodded with a smile before she squealed in his ear and pulled him into a tight hug. “I can’t wait! Thank you!”

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Liam let out a heavy breath as he looked over at Riley -- The woman he knew would not be a fun hunting partner next week -- still standing on the sidewalk, appearing like she might faint. “Yeah ... I can’t wait either.”

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

Saturday. 5:15 a.m. The cellphone alarm on Drake’s bedside table let off a series of rhythmic beeping sounds and vibrations. 

The alarm wasn’t needed. The man had been awake for hours, listening to his wife's gentle snores; the anticipation of bringing home at least a 12-pointer keeping him from falling back asleep. 

Letting out a ferocious yawn and a hearty stretch, he picked up his phone to dismiss the alarm and rolled over to wake Alyssa.

With her ass perfectly curled into the space between his stomach and thighs, his hands settled on her curvy hip, jostling her slightly. “Time to get up, my little peach. We gotta get crackin’ before all the good deer are gone.”

“I just need one more hour, okay? Thanks,” she protested with a drowsy murmur, pulling the pillow over her head.

Drake chuckled, rubbing soothing circles over her back. “No. We have to get up now. We’re wasting time, sleepyhead. Unless … you don’t want to go.”

Alyssa’s heavy eyes stung as she tried to peel them open one at a time. “No, I wanna … go ...” she trailed. Her eyes slowly shut again, and she was out.

On a day like today, Drake was usually up and ready in ten minutes. Once he could finally get his wife out of bed, dressed, and back awake again from where she fell asleep on the toilet, it was close to 45 minutes. 

Maxwell, who was also a childhood friend and the music teacher where Alyssa taught, rented the room over their garage. He agreed to come down that morning and watch the kids while the pair spent their morning in the woods. Bianca used to help out in that regard, but the kids complained she slept the whole time, and Alyssa was pretty sure her mother-in-law smoked pot around them.

Drake loaded up the truck, placing his rifle and a smaller .22 caliber for Alyssa behind the seat. Dragging herself slowly to the vehicle, the night sky still pitch black and her breath turning to thick vapors in the frigid air, she listlessly tossed a Taylor Swift tote bag on the floorboard and climbed in.

Drake looked at his phone after everything was packed up to see if Liam had sent a message about being late. It was unusual for him not to be there already. Typically, his best friend was up and at his house before Drake was even ready. He sent off a quick text to check.

Drake: Where you at, man?

Liam: Running late. Riley had to put makeup on and do her hair. 

Liam: I’m having so much fun already 😑

Liam: snark

Drake: Lyss couldn’t decide which gloves looked the best with her orange vest. I guess she wants to impress the deer before she kills them.

Liam: We’re not catching deer today. We’ll be lucky if we catch a cold. Be there in 10.

Twenty minutes later, Liam’s gray Silverado pulled onto the Walker’s gravel drive. Riley had wanted biscuits and gravy from McDonald's, and she had to run back inside to pee, so that set them back. But, with everyone now there, they were finally ready to head out.

Just down the rural road from where Drake and Alyssa lived, the current sheriff of Cordonia, Bastien, owned several acres of unoccupied land that he used for recreation. He had been a close friend of Drake’s dad and agreed to let Drake and Liam hunt and fish on his property whenever they wanted.

Turning onto the dirt road and opening the gate, the four friends arrived at their spot just as dawn was breaking. 

No one spoke much as they trekked through the mud, sticks, and brittle fall leaves that littered the path to the deer stands. Riley and Alyssa were too exhausted to say anything. Drake and Liam just weren’t used to talking at all.

"Riley, love,” Liam whispered softly. “Can you watch how you’re walking? The noise is going to scare the deer away.”

“I can’t help it if … " She reacted loudly in frustration before Liam placed a finger over his lips, and she resumed speaking more quietly. “I can’t help it if there're leaves everywhere. I’m walking on them as delicately as possible.”

“How much further? I think my toes are frozen and I need coffee.” Alyssa bemoaned while walking on the balls of her heels. Drake was basically dragging her sluggish body by the hand. Her eyes were still drooping from exhaustion with every careful step.

“Just over yonder of that fence row is our stand.” He pointed out.

Alyssa aimed her flashlight around the woods in several spots. "And where do we pee at?"

Liam lightly snorted as Drake answered matter-of-factly. "Just over yonder of that fence row below our stand."

"Oh ... " her tone was small and apprehensive, "... I guess that's ... okay." She glanced back timidly at Liam, who was following close behind.

He shielded his eyes from the beam of her flashlight in his face and frowned. "I'm not going to watch you pee, Alyssa."

Riley gasped, "Eww! I don't want Drake watching me pee either." 

"Shhhhh." Liam was quick to remind her again of the volume of her voice.

"Stop, shushing me, Liam! Those deer don't know I'm out here."

Drake grunted, then whipped around to face the three of them. "Would you keep your voices down? No one's watching anybody take a piss," he whisper-yelled. "Lyssa and I will be at least a hundred yards away from ya'll. Riley, I promise you can piss your little heart out, and I won't see it."

"We're separating?" Alyssa asked wistfully. "What if I need to ask Riley something, and she can't hear me yelling across to her?"

"You'll just have to ask her when we're done, baby girl. And ... please don't yell questions to her while we're out here. Low voices."

They continued on with their noisy hike.

"Having so much fun," Liam grumbled to himself.

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

Liam and Riley headed to their tree stand as Drake helped Alyssa climb up the ladder to theirs. 

The stand and ladder were made of plywood -- chipped and faded from years of exposure to the elements -- and were attached at the apex to an oak tree about twenty feet off the ground. At the top it had enough room to take a step onto, with a wooden seat just wide enough to accommodate them. One plank rail came out on both sides. 

Alyssa plopped down onto the seat, clutching her tote bag of goodies on her lap. She lifted the brim of the orange beanie she borrowed from Drake -- that smelled of animal carcass and gun powder -- above her eyes and peered out to the wilderness spread monumentally below. She closed her eyes and slowly inhaled the fresh, dewy air, taking in the sounds of twittering birds, branches clashing from the nearby squirrel frolicking on them, and the rippling of a bubbling brook streaming down the hill. 

A pleasant warmth overcame her as Drake's much larger body sat down next to her and protected her from the frosty wind blowing in from his side.

Alyssa wrapped her arms around his waist, snuggling into him. "I can see why you like this so much. It's so quiet and peaceful ... look how purty it is out here, Drake. It's just real purty, isn't it?"

Working diligently on getting their gear together, he stopped briefly to look out; affection glowed in his eyes. “It sure is, darlin’. Almost as purty as you ... and notice I said 'almost.'” He winked, and Alyssa blushed, feeling that same love trickling up inside her she'd had since they were teenagers. Drake could charm the pants off a chipmunk, but she was thankful he only used that gift on her.

"Sooo ... " She drawled in her thick Southern accent. "How long will it be before the deer start coming out?" 

Drake drew the barrel of her gun back after loading it with shells and explained, "Don't know. It could be minutes. It could be a few hours. Just whenever they head this way, I reckon."

Perplexed, Alyssa nodded slowly. "A few hours? I s'pose that's okay. What do you do while you're waiting?"

He shrugged, passing a gun to her. "You just ... sit here."

"You just sit here and do what?"

Drake leaned over to kiss into her orange cap and replied, "Wait."

"Wait." She acknowledged. "I can do that. I'll just sit here ... and wait."

Several minutes had passed, and Alyssa was already bored with listening to nature, Drake's gurgling stomach, and sitting quietly with nothing to do. Every so often, a shotgun blast was heard in the distance, signifying either someone out there had gotten their prize or Riley had driven Liam insane. It was the only break from the monotony that came with the boredom of sitting in a tree for who knew how many hours.

Letting out a giant exhale that caught Drake's attention, she propped her rifle against the railing and pulled the cloth tote that was sitting between her boots into her lap. Rummaging through the bag, she pulled out her phone and began thumbing out a message.

Drake furrowed his brows and asked, "What're you doin'?" 

"Just texting Riley,' she answered dismissively. He shook his head and leaned it back against the tree while she formulated her message.

Alyssa: You still alive over there? How's it going?

Riley: This is boring as shit.

Riley: And now my texting is apparently scaring away the deer. F the deer Liam. F all the damn deer!!!! What were you thinking, Lyss?

Alyssa: I was thinking we could spend quality time with our husbands. The men we love and cherish with all of our hearts. I’m having a great time with Drake so far 😍😘

Alyssa: And no one twisted your arm to come bitch.

Riley: Liam's just staring through binoculars. He hasn’t spoken in 20 minutes except to tell me to point the gun away from him or to quit moving. Let’s go get our hair did at Adelaide's.”

Alyssa: OHHH Yes! And get Chinese food ... CRAB RANGOONS!! I'll have Drake drive us back. Girls Day Out. Love you!

Drake let out a belch and blew it away when Alyssa turned to him with a dazzling smile and a sparkle in her blues. "Can you drive Riley and me back to the house?"

"What? Right now?" he shrieked. She answered him with a cheerful nod. "What happened to all that talk about wanting to spend quality time with me?"

"I still do. But ... we're just sitting here, not really doing anything. I could be getting my hair done for tonight's festival. I also have a ton of laundry to do, some papers to grade, and I’m supposed to be making the Devereaux’s famous peach cobbler for the raffle. If I leave now, I’ll have time to do all of it.” Alyssa knew she probably wouldn’t do half of that, and Audrey would likely make the cobbler, but it made the situation sound more urgent.

"It's opening day, baby. I'm not leaving this spot." He reached into the pocket of his overalls and pulled out his keys. "If you and Riley wanna take my truck, I'll ride back with Liam."

She gave him an exasperated look. "I don't know my way back to the truck. And I sure as hell know Riley doesn't."

He smirked, stuffing his keys back. "Then you're stuck."

The next hour was brutal. Alyssa texted Riley to alleviate the boredom for several minutes, but there had been no responses in a long while. She wasn't aware that Liam tossed her friend's phone over the hill when she started making TikTok videos of her plight -- Liam took his deer hunting seriously: No noise meant no noise.

Drake wasn't much better; he was quieter than his usual self. It wouldn't have been so bad if she could at least talk. An occasional whispered word was not going to cut it.

Alyssa sighed heavily. She wiggled around for comfort. She unwrapped a Nutty Bar. She crunched. She opened a can of pop. She tapped her fingers. She flipped the pages of a magazine. Each one got that look from Drake that let her know it was too loud. If she ever made it out of there, she planned to jabber and stir until she couldn't do it anymore.

After another half-hour of stewing quietly in her thoughts without a sign of a deer anywhere, Alyssa decided now was the time to finally just talk. 

"Do you ever think about having another baby?" It was a topic that had been on her mind for a while. To her surprise, Drake didn't give her a look or even freak out the way she anticipated. Despite his own rule of silence, he even responded in kind.

"Yeah. Kind of a lot."

Her right brow darted up. "Really?" 

Drake took a breath and shifted the gun across his lap. "I mean, of course. It's always been my dream to settle down and have a bunch of youngin's with the woman I love." He studied her lit-up face; he'd swore she'd gotten more beautiful with age. That's why he hesitated when he added, "But ... "

Her shoulders slumped at his words, and a deflated look impressed upon her face. "But ... " The word barely made it past her lips.

Drake reached for her hand and gripped it tightly. "Lyssa, we have so much going on right now. You're working on National Boards, Audrey has piano recitals and basketball, Patrick has peewee football and Boy Scouts. We barely have time -- except for right now -- for just ... us. I'm not saying,"never"... just that right now ... isn't a good time."

"I understand that, but ... we've always made it work. And don't you miss those tiny little fingers wrapped around yours? And the way they smell fresh out of the bath? And those chubby little cheeks pressed up against yours?" she goaded.

“Of course I do. I remember the first time I held Audrey and PJ in my arms -- there’s just no better feeling in the world than ...to look down ... " Drake paused as his voice cracked, and his brown eyes glistened like glass. " ... and to see someone so small ..." When she sniffled, it made it that much harder for him to speak. "... that you created with the woman you've loved since you were 16 years old. But I like who they are now, and watching them grow, and doing things with them ... And, well ... there’s no shit clean up.”

“You obviously haven’t washed Patrick's clothes in a while,” Alyssa retorted with a chuckle that brought out one in her husband.

"I’ll have to talk to him about that." He gazed deeper into her eyes. "But I do love you ... more than all the peaches in Georgia, Lyssa Claire.”

Alyssa smiled.“That’s what you said to me when you promised to marry me when we were teens.”

Drake returned his own smile. “I did. I remember like it was yesterday too. Sitting in your parent’s basement, watching Friends reruns, eating pizza, making out. And hell, it’s still as true today as it was then. Somehow, even more."

Their cold lips parted and joined halfway for a fervent kiss, with Drake's hand meandering around the subtle groove at the junction of her waist. Just as it became more intense and desirous, a rustling of twigs off in a nearby thicket caught Drake's ear, and he broke away, his eyes scoping the perimeter. Alyssa wasn't offended, she heard it too, and her heart raced with excitement.

Lifting the binoculars hanging from his neck, he spotted two deer eating from a blackberry patch some thirty yards away. He pointed in their direction; Alyssa gave a quick thumbs up, letting him know she saw them too.

Drake carefully lifted the rifle resting in his lap as Alyssa leaned forward and squinted to get a better visual. "Is that a buck and a doe?" she whispered, not moving an inch.

"Sure as fuck is." He mounted the stock of his .30 caliber, Winchester, just beneath his collarbone;  the rush of this moment coursed ravenously through his body. He lined up the scope and placed a steady finger on the trigger -- his thumb pulling the hammer back.

“Wait.” Alyssa loudly whispered. “You can’t shoot him.”

"I'm gonna. Better cover your ears."

"No, Drake. There's a doe with him. What if that's his wife? You can't just leave her all alone without him."

"Lyss, this is the whole reason we're out here."

"So you can make a widow out of her?"

"No ... so I can make deer chili out of him."

Alyssa's mouth flew open. "No. No. RUUUUUUUUN! RUUUUUUN!"

Drake pulled his face away from the scope and fired her a look. "What the hell are you doing? They're getting away!"

She tilted her chin boldly. "I don't care. That was her husband, and they're in love, and you can't take that away from them. I would be so sad if we were just out eating berries and someone came up and shot you, ALL SO THEY COULD EAT DRAKE CHILI!". 

Drake dropped his head. He knew there was no point in arguing with her. As long as he’d known her, she was stubborn, and at that moment, she was dead set in believing those two deer were living out the greatest romance of all time. Nothing he said or did would change her mind on that. 

A thought emerged while he attempted to comprehend the logic of the situation. Those deer ran off in the direction where Liam was set up. Maybe if he could give his friend a heads up, it was still possible at least someone would leave those woods with the prized buck.

Turning his back from Alyssa so that she couldn't stop him, he pulled a small walkie-talkie from his pocket and radioed Liam. Alyssa knew what was up and jumped to her feet, thrusting her arms around him in an attempt to stop the travesty.

"You can't do this, Drake," she hollered, "That’s her soulmate. And why don't I have a walkie-talkie? I want a walkie-talkie!"

While seated next to Liam, Riley was swinging her legs, purposefully making the soles of her boots scrape against the platform. Liam tried to ignore her; maybe he had been a little too uptight about every little noise and utterance she made. But this was playing a whole different ballgame now: she was now making it her mission to piss him off.

Prepared to pound his head against the tree, Liam gritted his teeth, skimming his eyes in her direction. "Love, do you have to do that?"

"Did you have to throw my phone in the woods?" She spat back.

Liam rubbed his hand over his face. "No, and I am sorry that. I apologize for all of eternity. I promise I will get you another one as soon as we get back, okay?”

Riley huffed. "Fine, but that phone had all of my contacts on it. It had our babies' pictures and videos on it ... our vacation photos. I can't get those memories back ever, and I have to find it, and God only knows where it landed. It could be ..." She stopped rattling on when she caught sight of the distressed look Liam was giving her. Knitting her brows, Riley asked, "What?"

"Nothing ... just ... can you lower your voice a little? You're gonna scare the deer away," 

He regretted it as soon as it came out. 

“LIAAAAM!”

He saw the steam gushing out of her ears. There was no time to answer the incoming call on his walkie-talkie from Drake.

Belting out a furious screech, Riley jumped up and tried to jerk the gun from his hands. There was no question she wouldn't shoot him, but she'd sure as hell shred his favorite gun apart piece-by-piece and toss them all the way to Portavira Lake on the other side of town.

Riley tugged with all of her might. "I have HAD IT with being quiet for those damn deer, Liam. HAD IT!"

"Sweetheart, you need to calm down ..." He stood up in front of her, pulling back on the rifle even harder, surprised -- and not pleasantly so -- his considerably smaller wife had this much struggle in her.

"Don't you sweetheart me. You have shushed me for the last time, Liam Preston Rys!"

“Okay, I’m sorry! But can you at least admit us fighting over a gun is dangerous? Somebody is going to get seriously hurt, and I don’t want it to be you, Riley. Please. I won’t shush you anymore, I promise.” His face softened, eventually adorning a loving smile at his wife, who, with a sigh, was unable to resist that handsome face and relaxed her grip. 

Riley gave him a half-smile in return. “I’m sorry, too. I’ve ruined your hunting trip.”

“Yes ... you did.” Liam agreed, dodging the playful slap she nearly made to his upper arm. “But I don’t want to fight anymore.”

With the War of the Ryses finally over, they went in for a makeup kiss until Drake’s voice called out to Liam again through his walkie talkie. Liam set the gun down on the bench and leaned it against the tree before he started digging into his pocket to answer the device. Riley dropped down onto the seat, her elbow brushed against the rifle and caused it to slide away until the barrel end hit the railing and set off a powerful blast.

When the ringing in both of their ears subsided, and the smoke had cleared, Liam and Riley collected themselves from the sudden spine-gripping explosion that shook them both. While Riley explained to Liam what happened, a hysterical sounding Drake came back over the walkie-talkie, wailing, “Alyssa’s been shot! Alyssa’s been shot! Help me!”

__________________

Later that evening, in the courthouse square, the street was lit up with zig-zagged rows of red, green, and white lights. Strands of garland were wound around every lamppost in perfect spiraled loops, and red bows hung and waved with the wintry breeze.

With traffic rerouted away from the area, vendors lined sidewalks selling local goods to put the town's citizens in the festive spirit. What would this small town in Georgia have been without boiled peanuts, low country boil, fried green tomatoes, barbecue, and peach everything? 

Once Constantine had lit the 30-foot spruce, surrounded by hundreds of merry people from all walks of life that made up this small community, the festival was officially kicked-off.

In a large tent set up on the square, Liam and Riley laid out styrofoam containers and drinks they’d purchased from a barbeque vendor on one of several picnic tables inside. With their two young daughters munching away on their meal, and the stroller with their sleeping son beside them, they both sat down with heavy hearts and restless minds.

Liam bit into his barbecue sandwich, noticing Riley only prodding at her mac-and-cheese while staring off into the distance. He didn’t have to ask what was wrong; he knew what happened that morning was bothering her with guilt and worry. It wasn’t every day she accidentally shot someone.

“Are you going to be okay?”

Riley shook her head slightly with a sad look. “No. It’s just not the same without Alyssa here. You know how much she loves Christmas and the festival. She was so looking forward to it too, until --”

“You shot her.”

“Yeeeeeesssss,” she cried out. Liam reached across the table and gave her hand a comforting squeeze, his thumb caressing her smooth skin. Riley continued to sniffle as she grabbed a handful of napkins and wiped the barbecue sauce off Liam’s sticky fingers that were now smeared all over hers. “I didn’t mean to, I swear it. And the way … and the way Drake cried. It broke my heart. Now he has her on bed rest AND house arrest. He won’t let her take calls. I’ll never see or hear from my bestie agaaaain.” The tears continued to flow in steady streams.

Liam stiffened, feeling the eyes of everyone in that tent, gawking at his overly-dramatic wife breaking down. He started to tell her to lower her voice, but after the gun battle in the woods, he thought better of it. “Riley, darlin’, you know Drake is really overprotective of Alyssa. And as scary as what happened was, she only needed the one stitch and band-aid for her graze wound. Something tells me Drake won’t be able to keep her down long.”

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

Liam was right. As much as Drake tried to keep her in bed so he could wait on her hand and foot, protect her from the careless friends of the world who could inadvertently do his baby girl harm, and check to see if she needed a new band-aid every few minutes, he could not keep her down. She had been far too excited to hang out with the people she loved so much and celebrate at one of her favorite festivals.

Maxwell had left for the events with Audrey and Patrick an hour ago; they were part of the children’s caroling group and needed to be there early. Against Drake’s wishes, Alyssa showered, got dressed, and made sure he knew in no uncertain terms would he be able to prevent her from going. The only thing he knew to do was to go, follow her around the entire night, and make sure she wouldn’t get shot again.

They circled the block where everything was held several times, but spaces to park were impossible to find. Three blocks away was the church where they attended, and the parking lot was completely empty. Drake didn’t like the fact that Alyssa would have to walk so far in her debilitated condition and was prepared to haul her piggyback style if he had to, but this was the best spot he could find.

Drake moved the gearshift into park and reached over to grab Alyssa’s arm, who was already bounding out the door. He pulled Alyssa back inside, the chilly air blowing through her open door swept her straighten hair this way and that way. 

She cocked her head to the side and exhaled, “Drake, I can open my own door. I’m not broken. It’s just a scratch. I’m fine.”

“I know.” He smiled that tenderhearted smile only Alyssa had ever seen. The same one sending a shudder through her already chilled body. “I changed my mind,” he replied simply

Alyssa slammed her eyes shut and groaned. “I just told you I was fine --”

“No, no,” He shook his head. “About having another baby. I want to start trying.”

Saddled with curiosity, she slid back into the truck and shut the door. “But, I thought you said we didn’t have time for that --”

“Yeah, I did say that. I still believe it. But … today made me realize that yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today …”

Alyssa’s hand flew to her mouth as she laughed out loud. Drake gave her a confused look before chuckling awkwardly to himself, “What’s so funny?”

She lowered her hand, still laughing. “You got that saying from a quote on a poster in my classroom. You’re the one who hung it up for me.”

The memory dawned on him, and he lowered his head, attempting to cover the guilty grin that spread over it. “Well, hell. Here I was trying to make you think I was all insightful and smart and stuff.”

Alyssa’s hand splayed across his rugged chest as she leaned over to kiss him.“You are very insightful and smart. You know I never settle for anything less than the best.”

“I s’pose.” he said, forking his fingers through his hair. “But … I guess what I wanted to say was … I know that bullet missed you, barely … but what if it hadn’t? What if I’d left those woods without you today? Just like you were afraid that doe might. Time wouldn’t matter anymore. There will NEVER be enough time with you. You’re my life, Alyssa Claire. You’re my lover, my friend, my heart, my confidante, my soul, my everything … my little peach. I want to experience all that life has given me with you as my wife … and forever make time with you.”

“DRAAAKEY!” she bawled, spreading her tiny arms wide around his bulky body. Alyssa drew him into her so hard it nearly crushed the wind right out of his lungs. “I -- love -- you -- so muuuch!” Drake patted her back and kissed into her hair as she sniveled into his shirt. He hated when she cried, but damn if this didn’t feel good to him. Anytime she was happy made him that way too. 

They took a moment to kiss and pet each other a little before Alyssa sat up and asked, “So … when do you want to start trying for a new baby Walker?”

He shrugged. “Whenever you want, baby.”

Alyssa looked through the back window of the truck and scanned the parking lot. She bit her lip and looked back at him impishly. “What about … now?”

Drake’s eyes flew open wide. “In the church parking lot?”

Pursing her lips, she affirmed, “Yes. We’ve done it behind the Piggly Wiggly plenty of times. And let's not forget the ‘Great Ass Blow-out of 2019’ in the Atlanta Convention Center parking garage.”

“I will never forget that.” Drake shook his head as that momentous sexual experience replayed in his mind. “Mmmm, you performed magic that day, woman.”

She raised a brow and coaxed him on, “So? What’dya say?”

Drake took a tentative look around at the dark, empty lot, then back at her. “We’re so going to hell, but I’m in.”

“Eeeeeee,” she squealed, jerking his arm around in excitement. “Try to keep your ass out of the window this time, okay?”

Thirty minutes later, Pastor Hakim pulled into the church parking lot with Mara, the game warden, following behind in her truck. There had been several reports from passerby’s of loud animals howling and screeching behind the church. The stray cat population was out of control in that area, and several cats had burrowed their way inside the church on occasion. 

Hakim parked his car, with Mara pulling in beside him. They both got out simultaneously and listened quietly to see if they could decipher where the commotion was coming from. 

Within seconds, a load moan roared out, followed by several consecutive whimpers that were hard to make out by the duo.

Mara listened intently, then gestured with her flashlight to an area near the back of the lot where clusters of shrubs and dry brush bordered. Hakim ambled behind her, the noise getting closer and closer until the pastor's brow furrowed at the shaking of a nearby truck.

“Damn, teenagers,” he grumbled as they tipped toed discreetly.

Mara crouched down by the truck's tailgate, Hakim bending over while she duck-walked toward the driver's side door.

The game warden turned to the pastor and instructed, “On my three. 1 -- 2 -- 3.” They both jumped up at the same time, flashing the light inside the cab. “HAHA Caught ya! OH MY GOD!”

Alyssa, who was on top of Drake, completely naked except for the band-aid on her left arm, looked up in utter humiliation and shock. She crossed her arms over her chest to cover her breast, feeling like she might faint. Not knowing what to say at that moment to rectify their actions or why those two were still staring inside the truck, Alyssa smiled sheepishly. “I’m still feeling the spirit, Hakim.”

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

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