#i should not be allowed to listen to sad songs at night

[hoshinasblade]

"time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me / i know i could have loved you but you wouldn't let me / you'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you" but make it about hoshina soshiro

when hoshina soshiro ended things with you, he said he did it because you deserve more than to be a young widow.

you would have called bullshit, but you recognise the truth is not far from his argument - defense force officers sometimes succumb to fatal injuries during kaiju attacks, and hoshina may be a skilled swordsman, but he isn't a god. as if the reason isn't enough, you knew that if he had wanted to stay with you despite being aware of the possibility of him dying in the field, he would have.

ten days before your third anniversary, hoshina abandoned your life and did not leave any traces at all. you did not know whether to be thankful that he was the one to tell your mutual friends of what transpired between you two.

it should have relieved hoshina; not being tied up in a relationship gave him more freedom to choose for himself - he even agreed to wear the weaponised kaiju no. 10 suit despite the likelihood of his lifespan decreasing because at least this time, he isn't worried that he will be leaving you alone in this world should something tragic happen to him. he's a more effective vice-captain if he doesn't have anything to lose.

really, it should have relieved hoshina but it doesn't.

he still makes his coffee the same way you taught him how to when you were just first seeing each other - two sugar and one cream, because he likes sweet things. everytime his jokes sell among the crowd of new recruits, he would get a flashback of how your laugh would sound like. he doesn't know if it's just in his head because it's been a while since he's seen you, much less heard your laugher. one time, when a particularly brutal kaiju attack occurred in the area close to where you live, hoshina soshiro prayed for the first time since he was a child - begging for any saint who would listen that hopefully you're safe, that you're alive.

really, the breakup should have relieved hoshina but it didn't. sometimes when he is too tired from training he would fall to his bed, his hand would trace the other side of the mattress for you only to find the cold and empty touch of his own blanket.

[osamucide]

⊹ FOR SURE

RELATIVELY STABLE AND TENTATIVELY ABLE TO SAY FOR CERTAIN WHETHER THIS UNCERTAINTY IS FOR SURE . . . ft. Osamu Dazai

wc: 2k

cw: sad and probably ooc dazai but he’s my husband so i actually know how he falls apart, pretty straightforward references to anxiety+dissociation, references to self harm+suicidal ideation but nothing graphic, angst+hurt/comfort, dazai cries and then you feed him that's all

reid: a little spur of the moment something i started when i wasn’t feeling so hot a bit ago. ethel cain’s cover of this song has altered the course of my life anyway enjoy me projecting

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

He was quiet when he got home, which is uncharacteristic, unless he’s scheming. But there was no glint in his eyes and no menace behind his grin, only exhaustion. What’s more is there was no downcast expression, no particularly sluggish movement to suggest he was upset; granted, he would regularly go on performing his usual persona even if he was upset. He was always all moving puzzle pieces, all thick mask and mystery.

It’s a good thing you’ve learned to read him so plainly.

You owe it to the little shared space you’re in, wrapped in a blanket on the couch, reading a book of his as he shakes his coat off and tosses it across the small dining table with two chairs side-by-side at it instead of across from one another. Dazai usually hangs his coat up on the rack by the door, slips his shoes off mindlessly and comes to flop his entire body weight on top of you, but tonight he pulls his laces undone and leaves his shoes tucked neatly against the wall, walks by the back of the couch to press a ghostly kiss to the crown of your head, and heads straight to the bathroom, which he locks himself in.

You swallow as you hear the shower start. You had specifically picked out an apartment with a standing shower, no tub, when you moved in with him. You’d emptied it of razors a handful of times and you probably would a handful of times more, and you kept all of both of your medication in your bedside table. Still, you can no longer quite focus on the words in front of you.

So, you flick the television on. A little more noise in your brain helps tune out the shower that’s just that—a shower. He showers, most often, because he’s feeling strange and not because he needs to feel clean. Maybe he needs to feel clean, but not in a way that a shower will allow. He does it anyway. You wait.

When the water turns off and he doesn’t immediately bounce out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, singsonging which leftovers you should heat up for him, you turn the TV volume down a few notches. When it’s been five minutes or so, you find yourself in the kitchen putting day-old bibimbap in the microwave. When it’s been ten, you’re knocking on the door.

"Osamu?" Your voice is soft as your knock. "I waited for you to eat." Dirty trick, you know. But you also know he won’t otherwise; not on a night like this.

You hear a bit of shuffling before the bathroom door creaks open. His eyes are red, his nose flushed, and he’s rubbing his face with the corner of his towel like he’s just awoken from a nap. He’s got no bandages on. He nearly whispers, "You didn’t have to."

"Wanted to." You work the towel from his hands as he turns the light off. He’ll hide behind the darkness if nothing else, but it’s alright; you’ll let him. You pat water from his shoulders before you sling the towel around him like a cape. You whisper back, "I’ll get you clothes. Please get silverware, yes?"

You don’t give him much of a choice, but he’s in a state where he’s pliant enough to listen to corporeal orders. Getting silverware will be a marginally easier task than dressing for him right now.

After pulling a sweatshirt and pair of pajama pants out of your drawers—they’re his, or maybe yours, doesn’t really matter; what does matter is they cover as much skin as possible—you return to him on the couch, two bowls of cooling bibimbap with chopsticks stuck in them on coffee table. He’s got as much of his bare body under the towel as it will allow.

When you set next to him and peel the towel back he looks nearly catatonic. It spurs tears to your lash line, but you hold back. "Arms, please."

He shoves himself into the hoodie, tousling his wet mop of hair in the process, and takes the pants from you, which he stands robotically to step into. When he sits you wrap five fingers across the top of his flannel-clad thigh and press a short kiss to his cheek.

As if sparked by your touch, he curls himself into you.

You’re quick to receive him; you unlock his hands from where they latch behind your neck, gently, like everything else, and you lean back, back, until your head is hitting the pillow you were lounged up against earlier. His fingers scramble for somewhere to land; you will his weight down onto you, his shoulder and hip to tuck beside yours on the inside of the couch, his free arm and leg to sling across your body and his sweet face in the side of your neck. The water from his hair soaks through your shirt. You don’t care. You feel his breath; your fingertips trace circles along his spine, and your outside hand comes to tangle up with his. Eating will have to wait.

You don’t waste time asking if he wants to talk. If he did, he would’ve started by now.

So you focus on his breathing, and how lucky you are to have it ghosting along your collarbone. He’s gray, then white, then gray, then blue in the light of the TV as his thumb moves across the back of your hand, stiff, like it’s just been freed from paralysis.

You wait for his breath to shake; you know it will.

And he knows you know, because he squeezes your hand in a pulsing rhythm like a heartbeat. He hates this. He hates that you've seen him crumble so many times that you know exactly what he needs.

You say it so softly, again, almost a whisper: "I've got you, my love."

He doesn't want you to say it's okay or let it out or talk to me; this is another thing you know very well. He feels like he's floating away from what little sense of self he has to begin with and it's not okay, and he doesn't want to talk about it, he doesn't want to be told when to cry or not, but he does need reminded that you're here, and you're real, and so is he, and so is this thing that both have; you'll grab his ankles and pull him down out of the air. You always do. You always do.

So he cries anyway.

It's like hearing a foreign language leave his mouth. There's something so assured about Dazai even while he believes he's all smoke and mirrors and seeing—hearing—his voice jump between heaving breaths and cracking sobs has always jarred you in some way. Moreover, now that you're so attuned to the way he breaks, it fills you with a tired anger that you can't place on anything concrete. It's a frustration you're glad to shoulder with him, but a frustration no less. You would set fire to everything you could touch, strangle it all to death with your bare hands, if it guaranteed his peace. But you know he wouldn't want that, not anymore; you quell the rage inside you between strands of his hair, fingerpads combing over his scalp with all that anger channeled into love, pure love. For as terrible and rotten as he's convinced he is, he's truly turned you into something softer than you thought yourself capable of being.

You feel his heart racing double-time against yours; you briefly wish you had no chest, no ribs, no physical form to separate you from him, so that your heart could cradle his, give over to his troubled body the time of the breath yours breathes.

He's all jagged edges right now and you're holding him like he's made of cotton. It makes him worse, momentarily, and he tears his hand away from yours; he knows wrapping around you like this, like a boa constrictor around its prey, will make his arms lose feeling but he does it anyway, like he's worried you'll go up in a cloud of dust if he doesn't hold onto you tight enough. He knows it's probably uncomfortable for you, too, laying back on his knotted fingers while he shoves every piece of himself as close as he can get to you, but you don't say anything, don't even make a sound when he hyperventilates into your shoulder and pushes out pathetic whimpers between his stuttering. He knows his face is twisted into that expression he long ago deemed too ugly to look at in the mirror. He gasps like he's underwater, and you just press your cheek to his temple while you lose track of if the wetness on your shoulder is from his hair or his eyes. It doesn't matter. You love him so fucking much.

He weeps against you with his constraint surrendered, loud but muffled by your shirt, at least until whatever movie was on is over. When he finally lifts his head, your eyes flutter open. You hadn't realized you closed them.

You tilt to look at him; the seam of your shirt collar is imprinted into his cheek. His bangs have dried wildly; you push them away from his eyes which are raw with sorrow, and Dazai's hands unclasp from behind you, settling back to how they first were with one curled up into the couch and the other interlaced with yours. He's devastatingly beautiful. You can't help the ghost of the sad smile you wear; it's because he's so gorgeous, and also you want to let him know you're content to be here—not content with what's upset him, not at all, but content to pick him up and help him haul himself forward. He does not reflect the smile back to you. You don't blame him.

"Let's eat." You leave the please unspoken, but it hangs there anyway.

"It's cold," he complains, still distant, but with a glimmer of a pout you think may be him. He's not getting out of it, though.

You sit him up, keep him close to your side and pick up a bowl; it's indeed cold, but you take a bite anyway, as if to show him it's not so bad. When you hold sliced carrot and broccoli to his lips, he looks at you like you're trying to feed him dirt, but opens his mouth anyway.

And it may as well be medicine going down. Not that he particularly cares for reheated and recooled leftover bibimbap, but your fingers being at the other end of the chopsticks makes it appealing. More than appealing. Delightful, even. He never really understood how things like food, music, or art could be healing until he met you and you doodles silly pictures of him on slow Sunday mornings, sang old love songs to him while you shooed him away from the stove as you cooked dinner, fed him leftovers in your shared home, on your shared couch, surrounded by all the things that were both yours and his, sweatshirts, books, blankets, chopsticks alike.

And he tells you that in his own way.

"Heat it up again for me? Please?"

He speaks the plea this time, and you grin—not sad this time, but wholly, as he relights slowly in front of you. And as already established, you'd do anything for him.

"Mhm."

"I love you," he blurts. Tags it on. You stand, gathering both bowls, still grinning.

"I love you." No question about any of it. You press a kiss to the crown of his head. He unfurls the blanket from where you'd slung it over the back of the couch earlier, picking up the remote to flick through the channels, finally breathing steadily as he waits for you to return from the kitchen. Your kitchen, his kitchen. He hears the microwave hum, in another room, not on another planet. He knows he'll be alright.

[thisismeracing]

The one | CS55

― Pairing: Carlos Sainz x fem!reader (she/her) ― Warnings: mentions of break up and food; typos. ― Summary: Yn is doing well a few months after her break up with Carlos, and so is he. Everyone thinks that this paragraph of their lives is over, but as it happens they may be a chapter to each other, and Yn makes sure everyone knows he was her great love, the one - through her new song. ― A/n: None of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps, but the work is, and I do not allow it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

February, 2023

February, 2024

realyn

liked by charles_leclerc, sza, and others

realyn "The One" has just come out on all streaming platforms. I hope this piece of my heart reaches yours. Tune in and dive into the feels 💐🤍

view all comments

saintsainz "for old time's sake" HELLO?????

ynsummer omg another bop!!! I wish I could write songs when I'm sad, the few breakups I had I could only cry and try not to choke on my own phlegm

⤷ fan2000 ewwww LOL

hammert1m3 charles on the likes 👀

leclowns1655 in my head they're not over yet

⤷ mercmickey you need therapy, bestie

lewishamilton great music as usual 💜

francisca.cgomes 😍😍

szadirection I love how the grid's still here supporting here even a year after she and carlos broke up 🥺

popyn WE WERE SOMETHING DON'T YOU THINK SOOO ROSÉ FLOWING WITH YOUR CHOSEN FAMILY 🎤🎤🎤🎤

ferraristrangers I have so many theories for the lyrics and the cover and kksjksdj aaaaaaaa

Old posts

March, 2018

realyn

liked by lewishamilton, ynfan, and others

realyn eat pasta, run fasta, they said 😋😂

view all comments

bieberf1 they my new fav couple now 💋

raintyresainz thank you for feeding us that last carlos pic

hurricaneyn welp now I wanna eat pasta but its like the middle of the night

⤷ alonsochamp eat pasta, sleep fasta 😙😂

carlossainz55 ❤️❤️

amarelorenault her glasses are so cool!!!!! her style is always on point

carlossainz55

liked by yourfriend, fernandoalo_oficial, and others

carlossainz55 we tried homemade, it worked 😋

view all comments

realyn we didn't run fasta this time though :(

⤷ carlossainz55 there wasn't any race this Sunday, cariño

⤷ realyn shhhh, let me be funny

harrystylistee I want what they have!

April, 2018

realyn

liked by hulkhulkenberg, renaultf1team, and others

realyn enjoyed April with my fav spaniard, wrote a few songs for you guys - new album dropping soon!!!!! 🥳

view all comments

aussiegrid howd you like Australia, Yn?

⤷ realyn I loved it, def gonna come back soon 🥰

ynfan 💙💙💙💙💙💙

carlosfullname1 where’s your jacket from?

⤷ realyn website.com 😘

fab2000 can’t wait for the new song and espec the new album!!!!!

July, 2018

carlossainz55

liked by pierregasly, realyn, and others

carlossainz55 Yn's new album "I used to know her" is out now and you guys should run to listen to it 💙💙 she did an amazing job as usual. I'm very proud of you, cariño @ realyn

view all comments

lewishamilton congrats, Yn!

hulkhulkenberg everyone here loved the new album, well done, Yn!

renaultf1team its our garage soundtrack 😎💛

March, 2019

realyn

liked by landonorris, mclaren, and others

realyn the past few months wearing papaya have been amazing! 🧡 and yes, last concert clothes were orange bc of the team

view all comments

landonorris looks like the concert clothes gave us some luck, make sure to wear orange again next time!

⤷ realyn I love you guys but I can't be wearing orange all the time

⤷ yourmanager yes, you can

⤷ realyn shut up, I'm gonna fire your ass

⤷ yourmanager no, you won't

⤷ carlossainz55 jajajaja

tifosinha I love how lando looks like their kid 😂

spaincarlos_ not yn and carlos adopting lando lol

ynfan4 her music taste is *chef kiss* 🤌🏾

ynandsainz yn, your album still on repeat on my apple music!

mclaren 🧡🧡

December, 2019

carlossainz55

liked by charles_leclerc, hulkhulkenberg, and others

carlossainz55 ¡Feliz Navidad! 🎄❤️

view all comments

saturnracer FELIZ NAVIDAD TAN TAN TAN PROSPERO AÑO Y FELICIDAD 🎤

szalover 😭😍 its the way she loves pasta

⤷ cowboyvettel @ realyn pasta or carlos? choose one

⤷ realyn carlos cooking pasta 😙😋😜

July, 2020

realyn

liked by lewishamilton, fernandoalo_oficial, and others

realyn compilation of some of the flowers Carlos gave me and pics he took 💖 Te amo, cariño 💐🌷🌹🌸🌺🌼🌻

view all comments

fonedirection God I see what youve done for others

carlossainz55 you’re my favorite flower, love 🌸💖

⤷ fernandoalo_official you guys know how to be sicklengly cute huh 🙄

piastripastry see? carlos gets flowers regularly to yn and yall out there crying over an ugly ass man who gives you the bare minimum 🫵

March, 2021

realyn

liked by carlossainz, scuderiaferrari, and others

realyn new character unlocked hehe ❤️💛🏎️

view all comments

ynfrance We want a new album, queen!!! save us!

swiftverstappen the way they went through everything togerher 🤧

⤷ russellsainz I want what they have

monegasque16 another day another yn post to make me cry in single and alone

carlossainz55 thank you for the endless support, cariño 💛 you’re my everything

tifosisunshine you’re 😭 my 😭 everything 😭

August, 2022

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, pierregasly, and others

carlossainz55 my kind of free-weekends 🩵

view all comments

sunnyyn yn looks so good 😍😍

yourbestie ❤️ aweee

realyn te amo! 😘

January, 2023

realyn

liked by lewishamilton, francisca.cgomes, and others

realyn happy new year 🙃

view all comments

charlsmonaco where's carlos? 😟

mylightyn I don't like this vibe…

ynwardrobe what is she reading?

lewishamilton 💙

⤷ mclatinha lew do you happen to know something we don’t?

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, fernandoalo_oficial, and others

carlossainz55 ¡Feliz Año Nuevo! 🎉

view all comments

brocedes2010 where's Yn??????

schumini_ at least they seem to be on the same place 🙏🏾🙏🏾

redsainz he looks so good it hurts

back to 2024 💬📩

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi! I hope you guys liked this piece! I'm set on publishing my drafts but I need time to work on them, this one was saved for a while now, and it's finally here heheh let me know your thoughts!

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©thisismeracing ― do not copy, steal, or translate my work; do not repost on a different media platform.

[rogersideup]

｡°✩ ♊︎ The Gemini♊︎ ✩ °｡

Chapter 6

Little Birdie

Series masterlist

Previous part: Rearview next part: Twinkles

Word Count: 7,800

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. Mentions and descriptions of sexual acts, anxiety, and sever depression.

One week.

Steve made it one whole week without you.

It was one of the longest weeks of his life.

Every day for seven days straight he needed Bucky to convince him not to text or call you. That conversation usually happened as Steve paced around his living room, while Bucky sat on his couch, threatening to get up and rip the phone out of his hands.

He couldn't even text you outside of work hours considering you blocked his number from being able to do so, but that still didn't stop the itch he felt to just see your name on his phone screen again.

Both boys were in agreement that Steve eventually should reach out and try to fix the damage that was done, because if your situation at the compound needed to get better just for the chance that you would stay, you at least needed your best friends back. But Bucky knew you deserved time and space away from all of the drama to really process it and figure out how you wanted it to end.

Bucky also knew a week of no contact with Steve would help the both of you stop fueling the fire. The harsh words would settle, reflecting back on the situation wouldn't feel as dramatic, and maybe now Steve would finally find the right words without the sight of you every day.

Plus, he would be damned if he let Steve have a conversation this serious with you over the phone.

Sure, both boys were extremely worried about you. There were a few times Bucky wanted to call and check up on you too, but he knew his own feelings shouldn't come before yours right now.

Meanwhile, the week did you wonders. You spent your days reconnecting with everything you used to love. Your favorite restaurants in the area, old friends you barely got to see now that you lived so far, the old yoga studio you attended 4 times a week, and seeing your family every day was healing in ways you didn't even know your heart could reach.

Filling the mornings and afternoons with everything you loved was important, but you knew better than to completely disregard the real issues at hand. So every night you'd go on a walk to the pretty park a few blocks from your childhood home, and meditate under the moon.

With the one airpod you had left, you'd let music shuffle and allow the lyrics to guide your thoughts. Some were a little to sad to bare, others were so on the nose you couldn't help but to listen over and over again while allowing the words to comfort you like a hug you've really been needing.

You and Steve were still friends and shared a playlist on your favorite music streaming app. Every night at the park you could see he was listening to sad music, and knew he could see you doing the same. Dramatic? Maybe. Were the sad melodies making you feel understood and less alone? Absolutely.

Eventually he got brave and while you sat under the moon and admired the stars, your headphones read the newest notification.

Steve Rogers added new song to playlist: Little Freak by Harry Styles.

You sighed, but against your better judgement you let the song play to understand what he was trying to say to you. Though the song was familiar to you, all this music was new to Steve. He loved listening to all your favorite artists and bonding over the modern music. The message was loud and clear when you heard it.

"I was thinking about who you are, your delicate point of view, I was think about you. I'm not worried about where you are or who you will go home too, I'm just thinking about you. I disrespected you, jumped in feet first and I landed too hard. Broken ankle, karma rules."

You knew deep down that you shouldn't give him the satisfaction of a response. He didn't deserve to be invading your sacred space, he knew how much music meant to you. But on the other hand, he deserved to know how much he hurt you. If he got to send you a message through song, you deserved to speak your mind too.

So you added a new song to the playlist as well. My Tears Ricochet by Taylor Swift.

"Even on my worst day, did I deserve babe, all the hell you gave me? Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you till my dying day. I didn't have it in myself to go with grace. You're the hero flying around saving face. If I'm dead to you why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed? Look at how my tears ricochet."

After that, your phone was silent and nothing else was added to your playlist. You could see he listened to the song, then once it was over he was no longer active on the app.

You'd usually let your mind really reflect on what happened and what you wanted going forward, but you found that Steve took up most of your thoughts, and what to do about your career always came second to him.

It seems like your Mom and Dad's advice always leaned towards joining the Avengers. But why wouldn't it? All they ever wanted for you was to find something you love and run as far as you could with it.

Jane would've preferred you leave the field completely. You knew the nature of your job left her in a permanent state of unease about your safety, but you always reassured her that you were in good hands so you'd be okay.

Nathan was a little more understanding that not everything was so black and white, so he played devils advocate for all sides, and of course Luca wanted you to join the Avengers.

Hearing all of their perspectives was helpful to see the bigger picture, but at the end of the day, only Jane and Nathan knew the extent of what happened. You kept the whole Steve and Bucky situation away from your parents for the same reason you kept it away from Luca, you didn't want to ruin the illusion of a superhero for them.

Also.... Your parents really didn't need to know the nitty gritty on your escapades with the winter soldier.

All good things came to an end, especially having your whole family under one roof. After a whole week together, Jane, Nathan, and Luca had to go home to get back to their own life, while your mom and dad left to go on a few day vacation they had planned months ago. So it left you, and the family dog, Rocket, you happily agreed to take care of in their absence.

It was actually kind've nice to have time to yourself. You filled the day with morning yoga, brunch with a friend, some journaling and therapy, and a much needed nap. As the sun went down, you threw a toy around the house to try and get Rocket's energy out but it didn't help much. So after you cooked and ate dinner, you grabbed a tennis ball and walked him a few blocks to the park.

Luckily he was allowed off leash, and there was one other dog there for a little while that took an immediate liking to him, so they ran around and tuckered each other out while you sat on the grass and watched.

Eventually his little friend left, so it left just the two of you, the tennis ball, and the twinkling stars above head.

As lame as it felt to admit, the small spotty brown dachshund filled your soul with so much joy that you couldn't wipe the smile off your face. Throwing the ball, and watching his little legs carry him so far, so fast with tiny little hops was definitely one of the cutest things you've seen in a while.

He was a brave and trusting little creature in most aspects of life, but when the rumble of an approaching motorcycle got a little too loud for his liking, Rocket came running back to your side with his tail between his legs.

Sitting by your side, you picked him up and held him close to your chest while speaking calming words to him that he definitely didn't understand. You pressed little kisses to his forehead, and he licked your cheek in return causing you to laugh.

Feeling a little annoyed that the motorcycle pulled into the parking area for the park you were occupying on your own, you stayed vigilant of your surroundings. Fully prepared to leave when the man got off the bike, you set Rocket down and started reaching for his leash before the dog started running towards the man who was now walking towards the both of you.

"Hey! Rocket, no!" You jumped up from your spot to chase after the irrationality fast weenie. Tail wagging, and happy wiggles took over his little body as he hopped up on his back two legs to greet the stranger. "I'm so sorry! He usually never does this, I don't know why he's... oh."

I'm front of you stood none other than Steve Rogers himself, looking delectable and cozy in a cute teal crewneck and some casual pants with sneakers on. You immediately had a billion and one questions, but he was very obviously taken by Rocket who was also very obviously taken by Steve. There was a serious love as first sight situation happening as Steve leaned down with a big smile on his face to say hi to the little dog.

"It's okay!" Steve giggled, squatting down to get closer to Rocket. "He soooo stinkin' cute!"

"What are you doing here?" You asked, feeling throughly confused, and immediately feeling a little defensive and protective.

When he looked up at you, your arms crossed over your chest as a form of self soothing. It had been so long since you felt this uncomfortable energy, and having it ripple through your body once more felt like reconnecting with an old friend.

"Oh, I was just in the area." Steve said sarcastically, nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders.

"Right." You agreed. "Casually in the area two hours away from home... on a motorcycle?"

"An hour and 45 minutes is only an hour and 20 on a bike." Steve noted with a shy smile.

"And how did you know that this area you so happened to be in was the same place I was, even though I never told anyone where I was?" You tilted your head to the side.

"Oh, it's easy. A little birdie told me." Steve noted.

"What was the bird's name?"

"That's not important." He denied, still smiling at the dog but standing to his full height.

"I don't know, feels kind've important to me." You hated that you had to hold back a smile as you looked at him. And you hated even more that you couldn't stop thinking about how stupidly cute he looked with helmet hair and a cozy crewneck on.

"Do you want to sit and chat?" Steve asked, suddenly seeming nervous. "...if not that's fine we can talk a different time if you want."

"You came all this way just to talk?" You questioned.

Steve swallowed nervously as he nodded.

“You could've called me." You challenged.

"Sometimes I think the old fashioned way of doing things is better." He shrugged. "...Also you blocked my phone number after work hours."

You sighed and pointed to your blanket on the grass. "Sit."

He quickly nodded and obeyed your orders. He sat first, and you sat next to him, Rocket trailed behind with the tennis ball in his mouth before happily handing it to Steve.

"Who is this little guy?" Steve asked, throwing the ball for him.

"Rocket"

"Like the raccoon?"

“No, he's my parent's dog. They just thought the name suited him. But they're out of town for the next 3 days so he's mine until then." You explained.

"I heard you spent some time with your family. You look a lot happier, do you feel better?"

"So Jane was the birdie who told you where I was." You noted.

"Will not confirm nor deny."

"Mmm" you hummed, reading between the lines. "Yes, it was very nice spending time with people who love me. I do feel a lot better, but it's going to take a lot longer than a week to heal from everything that happened."

"Of course it will, but all that matters is that it's getting a little better everyday." Steve noted. "I don't know if this helps, but I think I put the fear of the devil into Harvey and all his friends. Should you choose to come back, I don't think they would be an issue for you anymore."

"Do I even want to know what you did to them?" You asked.

"I don't think the details really matter too much right now." Steve shrugged once more.

A very uncomfortable silence fell over the two of you, so you threw the ball for Rocket this time.

"Would you like to talk about the hard stuff?" Steve raised.

"Can't we just talk about the weather?" You complained, dreading the inevitable.

"It's pretty chilly out tonight." Steve noted. "You're not cold?"

"Nope." You exaggerated the P at the end of the word.

"Good chat." Steve giggled at the astronomical amount of discomfort and awkwardness you were exuding. "This is never going to get better if we don't talk about it."

"I haven't cried in a few days." You told him. "I'm dreading losing my streak."

"Crying is healthy, and so is expressing emotions." Steve told you. "For example, I really missed you and I've been worried about you for a while now, so I'm here to express that."

"Oh, so you weren't just in the area?" You questioned.

"I took my motorcycle to get to you as fast as I could, because I waited a whole week and every single day that passed by without me giving you a much needed apology was killing me slowly with an amount of guilt I didn't even know was possible for a human being to feel. So no, I was absolutely nowhere near the area."

"Was that the apology?"

"No." Steve denied. "I'm really sorry for everything that's happened. I feel like every interaction I've had with you this past month has been a really bad reflection of my character. I should've went about the whole situation with a lot more logic and understanding, and I should've just listened to you and Bucky before letting anger get the best of me. It wasn't fair to you."

Your eyes stayed fixed on Rocket as he hopped around the grass, he watched you slowly nod while processing his words. "I never meant to hurt your feelings, and if I knew back then what I knew now, Bucky and I would've never..."

"I know." Steve saved you from having to finish that statement. "And our last training was just... completely unacceptable. I wish there was a logical explanation as to why I was so upset that day. Quite honestly, every time I even start to think about it I feel just horribly embarrassed and completely mortified. I'm sorry for not listening to you and telling you that I didn't care. I'm sorry for scaring you and completely breaking your trust. Most importantly I'm really fucking sorry for hurting you. I should've listened better and walked you to medical the second you said something, and the fact that I only made it worse has kept me awake every night since it happened."

"Bucky said you were having a tough few days." You noted.

"It doesn't matter." Steve declined. "I need to do better than that, and I will. You were having some really hard days too, but you never used it as a reason to treat me like shit."

“I was pretty shitty to you."

"But within reason."

"I told you to ignore my existence, called you some not so nice names, yelled at you a few times..."

"Because I pushed you to that level of anger."

"The fact of the matter is that you felt that way because you felt disregarded and disrespected by Bucky and I, and for that, I'm sorry too." You apologized. "I know you weren't interested in hearing me out before when this all happened, and at the time none of the words really came out right. So if you're open to it, I feel like I'd really like a chance to explain the choices I made."

"Of course." Steve practically whispered with a subtle nod, throwing the ball once more for the dog. "But don't feel obligated to. I don't think I would've come all this way if I hadn't already forgiven you."

"This is never going to get better if we don't talk about it." You used his own words against him.

"Ah, so you do think we could make it better?" Steve asked.

"Why wouldn't I want it to get better?"

Steve sighed. "You made it pretty clear in a few different ways that you didn't want me as a friend or even around you at all anymore. A big part of me was expecting you to turn me away for good when I showed up here."

"Oh... sorry." You mumbled sadly, suddenly feeling bad about all the words you shouted at him out of pure, hot red anger.

"S'okay."

"Growing up, I was never really the center of attention for anything. I was never good at anything, I got straight B's in school, I had 2 friends at most. Even as I got older and went through high school I wasn't paid much attention to. I never had a boyfriend, I struggled a lot to make friends, once I even went to my teacher to ask him a question 4 months into senior year and he thought I was a new student even though I had been sitting in the second row of his class every single day."

"...yikes." Steve cringed.

"Yikes is right." You agreed. "I never thought I would exceed at anything at all in life. My big plans were finding a 5-9 desk job to make ends meet then just keep going until I didn't have to anymore. Then I discovered the joy of helping people, realized maybe I'm not all that bad at it, and before I knew it I was at Shield. Then all of the sudden I went from never getting much attention my entire life, to having all eyes on me at all times. I was being held to impossibly high standards, the boys wouldn't leave me alone, it felt like regardless of where I was in the building, there was this big huge spotlight on me."

Rocket had finally gotten too tired to play with his ball, so he came back to you and Steve, and laid down right next to Steve's leg. "Even I was hearing about you before you had made it to high enough ranks to work with me."

"Getting no male attention your whole life will kind've mess you up a bit, but going from no male attention to getting thrown into the compound where only a handful of other women work will mess you up a lot."

"Like throwing a zebra into a pack of lions."

"Even that feels like an understatement." You grinned. "Harvey was the first guy I met that didn't feel like he was going to eat me alive, so I stuck with him."

"He was your first boyfriend?" Steve asked, sounding genuinely appalled.

"He was my first everything." You admitted shyly. "I thought he was one of the good ones, like that one boy you waited your whole life for. But obviously I was stupid, and that turned out to be one of the bigger mistakes of my life."

"He's the stupid one, not you." Steve denied.

"When I met you and Bucky, it was a big breath of fresh air. You guys helped me realize that Harvey was bad for me, but at that point I was already convinced he would be the only guy who would ever be stupid enough to fall in love with me. So I stayed way longer than I should've, but in the meantime I felt like I had opened up to you and Bucky far more than I ever had to Harvey. We started training together and talking more, and at that point I felt like I had given you so much more of myself than I had ever given anyone else in my life. Which I know sounds odd, but we were having these really good conversations that made me feel really vulnerable but in a good way, and we had built so much trust and understanding of each other that I never had to question what your intentions were when you were around."

Asshole. Asshole. Asshole. That was the only word Steve could think of at the moment. How he felt, how he treated you, how he made you feel, he was an asshole.

"I'll spare you details, but after Harvey and I officially called it quits obviously I was really fucking sad. I wanted to see you, but you were away on a mission and I just needed to be with a friend so I went to Bucky's place instead. I had all of this new found freedom, paired with this gut wrenching feeling that I was going to be alone and unloved for the rest of my life, and a good friend in front of my face who was just so kind and gentle...things just happened. I wasn't the one to initiate, but I definitely didn't put a stop to it because for once it was really nice to feel wanted. We didn't even kiss or see each other naked, it felt like less of a big deal to me and far less vulnerable or intimate than most of the stunts and challenges I let you guide me through in training. Bucky and I weren't trying to be malicious and we had no bad intentions in our choice to not tell you, I was just afraid that you wouldn't understand and that you'd take it the wrong way. Which, with all due respect, you didn't understand and by the time I even got a chance to try to explain it to you, we were both so angry and defensive that none of the words would come out right."

Working up the courage to look at Steve to gauge any sort of emotional reaction from him, his face was full of remorse as his eyes stayed set on the dog as his hands gently pet his long body and scratched the top of his head.

You took the chance to take a deep breath and let your palm sink into the fluffy park grass, one last ditch effort to ground yourself before the getting into the hardest part of the conversation. "That fear of misunderstanding and miscommunication is exactly why you didn't tell me or Bucky or anyone for that matter that you liked me. And just like how the information about what Bucky and I did got to you in the wrong way at the wrong time, that information got to me in the very wrong way at the very wrong time. And just like you, I didn't understand, and I felt hurt and betrayed because of it."

You watched Steve's cheeks turn red before he hid his face in his hands and let out a groan, earning a little smile from you that he couldn't even see. "Can we just talk about the weather again?"

"Sure thing." You agreed. "I think I lied to you on accident, because now I am kind've cold."

"Wow I'll never forgive you." He joked dryly, mumbling into the palms of his hands.

"That's okay, we can add it to the list of dumb shit we gotta talk through." You giggled. "Well, seems like that covers the weather category again. Are you ready to come out of hiding?"

He peeked one eye out between his fingers. "No. I kind've wish the floor would swallow me whole right now."

"Wow, I didn't think that you had a weak spot, but I found it." You enthused.

Although it was at much too high a cost, seeing a genuine smile on your face for the first time in over a month was like a big breath of fresh air to Steve.

"I'm not covering my ears, I can still hear you perfectly fine. Please continue." He grumbled.

"Just to put you out of your misery and conclude that horrifically long sob story I just subjected you to..." You started. "I was only hurt in that moment because after fooling around with Bucky and getting the information that you liked me sprung on me, it felt like I had lost the only two people in the compound who didn't see me as or treat me like an object of some weird sexual fantasy. Part of me even felt mad and embarrassed at myself for believing that we could've been friends without you guys seeing me that way. Plus, I had all those people in the compound already saying the only reason I was getting so far in my career was because I was sleeping with you, and I so desperately didn't want them to be right. So, all of that being said, I'm sorry too, I should've never been so mean to you. I'm sorry that Bucky and I hurt you, I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions and not letting you explain yourself while accusing you of things you'd never do."

"Like I said earlier, I already forgave you." Steve slowly let his hands fall from his face, cheeks still stained a pretty pink color.

"That doesn't mean you don't deserve an apology." You reminded him. "We both hurt each other, it's not fair for you to take all the blame."

"I feel like I'm going to throw up" Steve took a deep breath.

"Don't do that" you shook your head. "Please don't throw up."

"I hope you know that our friendship has always meant a lot to me, and absolutely none of it was a scheme to sleep with you." Steve braved through the hard part of the conversation he absolutely wished he never had to think about again.

"Yeah, I do now." You reassured him. "I'm sorry I said that."

"I really just didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable." Steve explained. "Especially in an environment where you were already getting eaten alive. Plus I was your boss, and you had Harvey, and I didn't want to ruin our friendship... and, yeah, I dunno. It was just a mess. I didn't tell Bucky because I didn't want him to tell me to tell you. He figured it out on his own, by the way. Apparently my eyes twinkle too much, whatever that means."

"I'm not uncomfortable, and yeah, you do have really twinkly eyes." You grinned.

"I guess that's your fault" Steve jokingly sassed.

"Oh so now we're pointing fingers?" You took fake offense.

"From this point on, I'd really like it if everyone could just ignore the twinkle in my eyes so we can all get back to being friends like we were before." Steve said, giving you a really easy escape to officially denying him.

"But I think the twinkles are so pretty!" You enthused, giggling when you could practically see his heart drop.

"You shouldn't be saying things like that when you know I already feel like throwing up." Steve shook his head and clutched his stomach.

"But I mean it." You confirmed. "Knowing what I know now, why would we ever go back to being how we were before?"

Steve swallowed thickly, then his hands started exaggerated movements to further get his point across. "I'm trying to give you an easy way out of telling me you don't want me back in the same way."

"I understand, but that wouldn't be true." You giggled. "I do remember you stating very clearly that you aren't my boss anymore, am I remembering that correctly?"

"No, technically I'm not you b-" He rambled quietly.

"Do we think this would do anything to harm our sweet little Bucky boy?"

"No. He's been going out with Natasha and has been trying to get me to ask y-"

"You we're so kind as to cut me some deals, so I've got one for you too. Let's take some time to let everything settle and heal over, then when the time is right, we'll explore more of that little twinkle, alright?"

"Okay." Steve nodded wide eyed and enthusiastic.

"Yeah? Are you going to throw up?" You questioned with a smile.

"Maybe only a little bit." He continued nodding.

"I guess that's better than a lot-a-bit" you justified.

"So we're okay?" Steve asked, twinkly eyed and puppy dogged face.

"We're okay." You confirmed. "Can I give you a hug? You look like you really need it."

Steve opened his arms for you, and you both had to awkwardly lean over Rocket who was instantly stayed tucked next to his leg. Embracing him tightly, you realized just how badly you needed it too.

Both unwilling to let go for a little while, you took the time to appreciate his body heat that was a stark difference between the cold air outside.

"I'm sorry." Steve quietly apologized again.

"It's okay. I'm sorry too." You accepted. "I really missed you, Stevie."

"I missed you too, Bug. I've been so worried about you lately." One of his hands was very sweetly rubbing your back.

"Sorry." You sighed. "I've been trying my best."

"I know. That doesn't make me worry any less."

"I love you." You reminded him for the first time in a while.

Steve relaxed and let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding onto. "I love you more."

Although you could've hugged him forever, the two of you mutually unwrapped yourself from each other.

"How is your shoulder?" He questioned remorsefully.

"Oh, it's fine." You told him. "It feels so much better. I've been doing yoga all week and it's held up nicely."

"Good, that's good." He nodded. "And have you put any thought into what you're going to do about your job?"

"Everyone seems to want me to do something different." You sighed. "I've been coming here almost every night just to think about it. It's really nice that the sprinklers don't turn on at 10 pm."

“What do you want to do?"

"I think I know what I want, but I'm really scared of making the jump." You explained.

"I'm not here to talk you in or out of anything, I was just curious." Steve grinned. "You still have the rest of the week to think it through. But just know that I have no doubt in your ability to handle a big scary jump"

"I can usually only handle big scary jumps because most of the time, you're down at the bottom waiting to catch me." You admitted.

"Well regardless of what you choose, I'll still always be here for you." Steve reminded you sweetly. "I just hope you do what you think is best for you, and not what other people want you to do."

“That's the thing, I don't think I know what's good for me."

"Are you kidding me? You have great intuition." Steve said. "Your just need to gain back trust for that little voice in your head that's telling you what to do."

"The same voice that bullies me every day?!" You asked with a giggle. "Absolutely not, she gets no say in any of my choices nowadays."

Steve close lipped smiled at you, his dimples setting deep into his chiseled cheeks. "Then forget you even have a brain and listen to your heart."

"She's also been really problematic recently." You noted. "I don't like her very much right now."

His smile turned into a pout. "That sounds like a very tough thing to not like about yourself."

"Tell me about it." You agreed. "But we're working on it."

"Once again, I guess that's all that matters." Steve noted. "So you can't make a big decision with your heart or your head, and your shoulder is out of the question. We're running low on body parts."

"Maybe I'll let Rocket make the choice for me." You grinned at the sleepy dog.

"I think Rocket should be an Avenger... actually, I think Rocket should come home with me and be my dog instead." Steve smiled, petting the dog once more.

"My parents would hunt you down for sport if you ever took this dog." You giggled. "He's their favorite child."

"But I love him!" Steve pouted like a child. "He's just so fucking cute! Have you seen these ears?!"

"No pets allowed at the compound" You reminded him, nudging his arm. "Maybe that's all the more reason to quit."

“I think that's reason to break the rules, not to quit." Steve corrected.

"Captain America suggesting I break the rules?!" You questioned with a gasp.

"Am I not the same man who's whole career was founded off of breaking the law?" Steve questioned right back. "When have I ever followed the rules?"

"Wow, bad to the bone."

"That sounded sarcastic." He noted as his eyebrow raised in question.

"Me? Sarcastic? Never." You denied.

Rocket readjusted to get more comfortable, but crawled into the hole within Steve's crossed legs and curled up into a little ball in his lap, with his head resting on his thigh.

"Okay that's it." Steve declared, fists balling up to keep himself from unleashing his cuteness aggression on the creature in the form of hugging him so tight his eyes popped out of his head like a stress ball. "I can't take this anymore. How bad would your parents beat me up if I stole this dog? Because really, I think I could take the beating."

"I simply cannot express to you how much taking this dog away from my parents is not an option." You laughed at his question. "I think my Mom would run you over with her car."

"No way she would do that." Steve shook his head. "She was so nice when I met her!"

"She would not be nice if you stole her weenie." You pointed out.

"Come on, she gave me a hug. No mom that's giving out free hugs could ever hit me with a car."

"That's where you're wrong. Because any woman that has so much love for her kids would do anything to seek rightful justice if you did anything to fuck with them." You corrected him. "Even if she's five foot nothing, and you're Captain America. Don't mess with her baby."

“Oh no" Steve's eyes went wide.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh shit." He panicked. "Do your parents hate me?"

"No? Why would they hate you?" You questioned with a nervous laugh.

"Because I accidentally fucked with your Mom's baby and now she's going to do anything to seek rightful justice." Steve clutched the fabric of his sweater right over his chest. "The throw up is coming back."

"I didn't tell them anything about you or Bucky, other than that you didn't let me quit right in the spot." You explained. "They love you and all of the Avengers too much for me to ever ruin their perception of the people who make them feel safe."

"So why do they think you're here?" Steve asked.

"I only told them about Harvey and the general issues I'm having with all of the other agents."

"Your sister knows." He said. "She made a weird comment..."

"She always makes weird comments, that's just what makes Jane, Jane." You smiled. "Yes, she knows, but she likes you a lot. I think she even took your side, she's been advocating for you the whole time."

"She's going to tell your mom, and your mom is going to hunt me for sport."

"No she won't, and even if she does find out about it, she's a very rational person. As long as we're fine, she's fine." You explained. "Look I'll prove it to you, say cheese!"

Quickly taking your phone out of your pocket and pointing the camera at Steve and Rocket, he smiled and you snapped a picture. He watched you type away for a few moments.

You sent the picture in a group chat with your mom and dad, then immediately got a response.

"See! Look! I said, look who came by to hang out with your favorite child." You giggled at your screen, turning it towards him so show that you sent them the picture. "My mom responded and said omg, Dad is honored. We don't know who is cuter, Rocket or Captain Rogers."

"Okay now ask if I can steal the dog." His cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink.

"I thought the point was to make sure my mom liked you" You laughed, locking your phone and putting it on the grass besides you. "Trust that I'm doing you a favor."

"Fine, but I'm not happy about it." He joked.

"I didn't know you felt so passionately about wieners, Steven." You giggled.

"What can I say? There's nothing better than kicking back and playing with a wiener." He ran with your joke.

"A nice, long wiener."

"This is ridiculous" Steve's face scrunched up, earning more of your adorable laughter.

Like no time had passed, you and Steve sat and chatted away for a few hours. You could tell the comfortable conversation was helping him resolve his own internal guilt, so you were happy to stay and chat for as long as he needed. But selfishly, you missed him more than you ever wanted to admit to yourself.

His adorable smile and pretty pink cheeks lit up a part of your heart that you had felt so disconnected from for so long now. And as the night grew colder, and significantly later, he couldn't just ignore the occasional chills that would make you momentarily shiver. You kept ignoring them and playing them off just to spend more time with your sweet friend, but eventually you ended up tucked underneath his arm and snuggled up to his side for warmth while Rocket stayed glued to his lap.

There was little you could do to ignore how comfortable and familiar it felt to be sharing warmth with the soldier. By all means, both Steve and Bucky were touchy people on a normal day to day basis, plus all of the training you did with Steve made you very comfortable with his skin on yours.

But this was different. His head that nestled on top of yours that rested on his shoulder, his big hand on the top of you arm keeping you close and snug against him, paired the gentle and quiet volume in his voice wasn't just friendly.

His hold was apologetic, and almost regretful. It was reconnecting, and mending. You could feel all of his unspoken words seeping out from his warm body to into your cold one, and you wondered if he could feel the same thing happening to him through your timid hand resting between his shoulder blades.

Just based on his calm breaths, but still racing pulse that you could feel on his neck, you knew it was different for him too.

But it was a good different, a hopeful and very exciting different.

Much like your shivers that you ignored and played off, Steve was trying to mask his yawns. Unfortunately, this was something that you couldn't ignore. Especially when you pressed the button on your phone and the screen informed you that it was already 11:52pm.

"As sad as I am to have to put an end to this, it's already almost midnight and your crazy ass drove an hour and a half here on a motorcycle." You reminded him.

"I just got you back, I don't want to leave you again." He pouted.

"I don't want you to leave either, but I'd prefer if you got home safely." Your timid hand now gently rubbing short stripes on his back. "Or you can stay the night with me here if you'd like."

A sleepy grin overtook the sat pout. "Thank you, but once again I don't want your parents to hate me. Plus I have my stupid annual physical in the morning."

"My parents wouldn't hate you, they'd rather you be safe than drive home tired."

"I'm not that tired, I'll be okay." He reassured you. "And you can't come back to the compound?"

"No, I have to watch Rocket." You reminded him. "But I'll see you in a few days at least. I'll be back before the end of the week."

"Oh, you'll be back?" He raised an eyebrow, challenging your statement.

"To give my official resignation at the very least, or to move all of my stuff into the Avengers sector at the very most. Who's to say what's going to happen?" You giggled.

"Well, when you need help moving let me know. I know a couple guys that can lift a few thousand pounds at a time, it helps the process go by really fast." Steve egged you on.

"Uh huh, I'll keep that in mind." You rolled your eyes with a smile, and wrapped your other arm around his front to squeeze him in a sideways hug. "Thanks for coming all the way here. It was really nice getting to have a conversation with you, I really missed spending time together."

"Of course. Thank you for even giving me the chance to explain myself. If I were you, I don't know of I would be able to be that gracious." He squeezed your shoulder in appreciation.

"There isn't much I wouldn't do for you." You grinned.

"Oh yeah? What wouldn't you do?" Steve questioned with a chuckle.

"I won't let you steal my moms dog." You stated. "Which reminds me, I'm going to need that back."

"Okay, I guess you can have him back. " Steve smiled and picked up the little fur-ball from his lap and placed him on yours instead. "Thanks for letting me play with your wiener."

"Feel free to come back and play with my wiener anytime." You laughed at his joke, unwrapping yourself from him as he started standing up.

"What an incredible offer, thank you" Steve smiled, now standing over you and offering you his hand to help you up.

"Like I said, anytime." You playfully winked.

Quickly putting on Rockets leash, you set the dog on the grass and accepted Steve's hand. He pulled you up effortlessly and bent over to grab your blanket from the grass.

"How far away is your parents house?"  Steve questioned, subconsciously folding the blanket.

"About two blocks" You shrugged.

"Can I walk you guys home?" He asked, eyes twinkling once more as he shoved his hands in his front pockets to keep them warm.

"Absolutely not" You denied.

He was immediately pretending to be offended with a big gasp and hand whipped out of his pocket and over his heart. "Ma'am, it is pitch black out here and it's already midnight."

You laughed at his response. "Sir, it's pitch black and midnight. Your motorcycle is right there. I'm not letting you walk me two blocks in a neighborhood I'm familiar with because that means you'll have to walk another two blocks back here all by yourself somewhere you've never been. Logistically it makes no sense."

Steve puffed and furrowed his eyebrows. "What if some creepy dude comes and tries to mess with you? Huh? Then what?"

"Then I use all my big and scary self defense moves that Captain America taught me." You answered. "Also, do you not see this big scary guard dog? Nobody is going to fuck with me."

His pout deepened. "What if you start walking home and some dude on a motorcycle follows you all the way home?"

"Is that what's going to happen?" You giggled at his question.

"If you keep saying you're not going to let me walk you home then maybe it will." Steve shrugged.

"I've been walking by myself this late every single night for a week now." You told him. "It's always been fine, it'll be fine again."

"Now you're just trying to give me a heart attack." Steve deadpanned, earning your laugh once again.

"So I'm a good enough fighter to be an Avenger, but not good enough to walk to my parents house by myself?" You asked.

"Yes, exactly!" Steve enthused. "So glad we could have this conversation to clear that up, come one let's get you home."

His arm linked around yours and he started walking. "I think you're absolutely out of your mind, but I appreciate you nonetheless."

Looking up at his face just in time, you caught his smile. "The second half of that statement is really the only part that matters to me."

Your steps synched up with his, and Rocket walked ahead of the two of you. "Hey, Stevie?"

"Hmm?"

"If you actually want to get me home, we should be walking in the complete opposite direction" You grinned.

Steve stopped and laughed. "Okay, you lead the way."

You did eventually make it home, and only when you stood on the door step did Steve let your arms disconnect.

"Look we made it here and nobody died!" You enthused. "Do you remember how to get back?"

"Of course I do" Steve giggled at your question. "It wasn't even two full blocks."

"Just making sure" you raised your hands in defense. "Are you sure you don't want to stay?"

"I would if I could." His thankful grin showed off the shallow dimples in his cheeks. "See you soon?"

"In a few days" you nodded in confirmation.

He stuck his arms out for one last hug, and you accepted happily. After he let go of you, he bent down to say bye to Rocket.

"Drive save! Text me when you get home." You told him.

Steve's face scrunched up for a second, causing you to look at him in confusion.

"What's wrong?"

"You blocked my phone number" He reminded you with a loud whisper.

"I'll unblock it, but text me when you get home" You giggled.

"Okay great!" Steve smiled big and did a little happy dance. "Goodnight!"

"Goodnight, love you!"

"Love you more!" He waved as he walked down the driveway.

Next Part: Twinkles

Taglist: @sarangheay @firephotogrl74 @selella @talesofadragon @ss28 @nekoannie-chan @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @spikeluv84 @crazyunsexycool @callmissrogers @xxxalicerogersxx @whore-for-chris-evans @em8rin @mulbsstuff @qalijahbydior @awkotaco24 @buckybarnessimpp @nicoline1998enilocin @buckystevelove @rogersbarber @mybuck @dbnightingale24 @ynstark @sincerelytlh @alexakeyloveloki @mrsevans90 @smhnxdiii @claralovescaptainamerica @hisredheadedgoddess28 @bigtreefest

[justmeinadaze]

Children of the Night Part 7 (Steddie X You)

A/N: Some of my own personal damage has entered the angsty chat lol Enjoy!

Warnings: Vampire Daddy Eddie/ Sub Vampire Stevie/ Sub Human Fem Reader, SMUT, dp, dirty talk, biting (obviously), mentions of blood drinking (yeah they're vampires), etc, FLUFF, they love each other :), ANGST!! (because Im me), Slight Child Abuse Trigger, we meet reader mom finally and goes about as well as you would think, mentions of feeling like/being a burden (I'm noticing a theme in my writing *thinks*), Eddie touches briefly on his childhood and his dad being in jail, these three get into a bit of a fight, I believe that be it.

Word Count: 6015

Series Here

That following morning after they fell asleep, you snuck out of their house and drove away in no particular direction. You needed to get away not because you were afraid of them or anything but because you were utterly terrified of getting them hurt again or worse. You loved them too much to allow that happen so you reverted to your default and ran. 

You had many hiding spots around the city including the bar you were sitting in. Whenever your mom would come home in a mood or bring home a guy that made your skin crawl you went to one of these places. This bar allowed you entry even when you were underage because the owner knew one of the boys you had run with. As you got older he said you were always welcome to hang out should you need to. 

A part of you hoped you were far enough away that both boys wouldn’t sense you especially since as night fell, you couldn’t feel Steve at all. Part of you thought you’d feel anger or sadness but more than anything all you felt was guilt. 

The band in front of you begins to play a song you recognize and your heart breaks as you try to subpress the tears that want to fall by knocking back another shot. 

A cold hand taps your shoulder and without saying a word your eyes lock with Steve while Eddie silently takes a seat in front of you. The newly made vampire tugs on your bicep but when you subtly shake your head, he tugs you again until you rise to your feet and walk with him to the makeshift dance floor. 

“Tears stream down your face When you lose something you cannot replace Tears stream down your face, and I.”

Wrapping his arms around your back, your hands cling to his shoulders as you force yourself to look anywhere that isn’t his face. 

“Tears stream down your face I promise you I will learn from my mistakes Tears stream down your face, and I.”

Your bottom lip trembles as images of the last few days flash through your mind including the sight of him bleeding on your bedroom floor and Eddie’s panicked voice when he thought the man he loved may be gone.

“Lights will guide you home And ignite your bones And I will try to fix you.”

Feeling your pain, Steve’s palm pressed you into his chest as his arms circled tighter around you while he listened to you cry. He kissed the top of your head while you both swayed and rested his cheek in your hair. 

As the song ended and people in the bar clapped, you hastily pushed him back and headed towards the table to grab your things. You thought Eddie would try and stop you but he didn’t, his eyes watching you with what felt like pity. 

Slamming open the bar door, you inhaled the warm but breezy night air before heading for your car. Wind whipped around you and suddenly the metalhead was blocking your entry into your vehicle. 

“Move, please.”

“You’ve been drinking. I’m not letting you drive. You may walk if you wish.”

“You’re not in charge of me anymore, Eddie.”

“Oh, yeah? I didn’t get that memo. Is that why you left without a word?”

“I’m allowed to come and go as I please.”

“Not after someone tried to murder you yesterday. It’s our job to take care of you.”

Rolling your eyes, you stomp off towards sidewalk near the beach as they followed close behind. 

“Leave me alone!”, you shout as you try to walk faster. “I don’t want to be with either of you anymore!”

Your hair blew in front of your face as Steve appeared in front of you blocking your path. 

“Ok. You don’t want to be with us anymore. That’s fine but it’s not going to stop us from looking after you to make sure you’re ok.”

“I’m not your responsibility! Trust me. You don’t want that burden.”

“Interesting word choice. Did your mother teach you that?”, Eddie replied in a snark filled tone. “Because, princess, you aren’t a burden. We like taking care of you.”

“Oh, so, these past couple of nights have been fun for you?! Watching him bleed to death and then changing him was exciting, Eddie? All the pain you went through was fantastic, Steve?!”

“What happened wasn’t your fault, Y/N.”

“YES IT IS! If you two had never met me you would have had no reason to be at my house!”

“Then you would be DEAD!”, Steve growled loudly, his eyes turning black with anger as he stepped forward. 

“Sweetheart, it’s ok. Calm down.”, the metalhead coos as he rubs his boyfriend’s back trying to comfort him. “I think you forget, little one, how all this started. Remember, I told you I always felt you. I don’t know why and I can’t control it. I felt it with Steve even before I turned but it was stronger after. If everything had played out the same way, we would have gotten involved. Each time those assholes went looking for you, they intended to kill you and I will NOT allow anyone to hurt you like that.”

As you three glare at each other, the cellphone in your pocket begins to vibrate. 

“Hello?...Yeah, that’s me…um…ok. I’ll, um, I’ll be right there.”, you sigh as you slap the device. “Steve, what time is it?”

“8pm. Why? Why do you suddenly feel nervous?”

“Can one of you run me somewhere, please?”

“Where do you need to go, princess?”

Both set of eyes were now their regular color as they scanned you over with concern. 

“LA General.”, you reply flatly.

***

“Alright, perfect and here are your visitors passes. Just let the officer outside know you’re the daughter and they will let you through.”, the nurse grinned as you grimly smiled back. 

“Um, please don’t talk when we get in there. No matter what she says. Can you at least listen to me in that regard?”, you plead as you pause at the end of the hallway to address them. 

After both boys nod, you continue along your way, telling the officer outside who you were before he opened the door and allowed you three entry.

“Hey there. Are you Y/N?”, the doctor asks, politely shaking your hand after you nod. “It looks like the prison brought her in because her wounds were too severe to for their staff to handle. The guards said she got into an altercation with one of the other inmates and was stabbed by a shiv in her side. With some surgery and lots of blood, she seems to be doing better. Part of the reason we called you at the time was because due to her medical history with her liver we thought we may need a family member to donate the matching blood type but it looks like we had the perfect type here.”

“When are they taking her back?”, you ask. 

“Um, we need to keep an eye on her for the next couple of days but by the end of the week I imagine. She is a flight risk so we do have to…”, the doctor gestures towards her wrist and the handcuffs as you sigh. 

“Thank you for everything you’ve done. I appreciate it and I’m sure she does to.”

After leaving you alone, you take a seat by the hospital bed and both men do the same on opposite sides of you. 

“Is this your…?”

“Yeah, Eddie, this is my mom.” Your sad eyes scan her over making Steve wince as he feels your pain heightens, still not used to these new vampire things he’s experiencing. “She’s been in and out for years but this is the first time she’s been stabbed. Must have really pissed someone off.”

“I’m surprised you’re listed on her contact sheet. I would have thought due to the charge she wouldn’t be allowed to see you.”, the metalhead mused.

“I’m an adult now. When I was a kid she wasn’t but that was for like 3 years. When she was sentenced to 30 years, I was about fifteen. She tried to escape a few years ago but they caught her pretty quickly. They had called me to notify me thinking she may be coming for me. They found her at a bar about four miles away.”, you chuckled before leaning back in your seat and glaring at the tile floor. 

“I told you I’m not safe. People are always come for me. I never should have reached out to you guys. I should have left you alone—”

“No, no, Y/N. You should have. I know I’ve only been a vampire for a couple of days but this feeling I feel when it comes to you and Eddie…I don’t know how to explain it. When we woke up and you were gone…it felt like—”

“There’s a hole. Like something is missing.”, Eddie answered trying to help. 

“Yeah. If this is what he was feeling for two years after moved here…God, I wish I had known. I would have done anything to help him find out what they were and then find you.

“I thought it was just normal. I love Steve so much but there was always that nagging feeling that somethingwas amiss. Even you said those first few nights, I smiled more and laughed when you were there.”

A tear fell down your cheek as you shook your head. 

“You almost had that feeling again but worse because Steve was almost killed. I felt the things he experienced when he thought you were gone, Eddie. I can’t…I can’t do it. I love you both too much.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. Did I die?”, your mother whines as she cringes opening her eyes. “Trust me, she’s right. She was always meant to get in the way and ruin lives. Seriously, ask the condom that broke when she was conceived.”

Both vampires growled but she was in too much of a haze to notice as she tried to sit up. 

“What happened, mom? Why are people stabbing you now?”

“Because people keep trying to take what’s mine! Why are you even here, Y/N? Go away.”

“They called me because they thought they might need my blood since you’ve damaged all your other organs with years of alcohol. Blood that isn’t family’s surprising didn’t shock your system into shut down.”

“Always so fucking mouthy.”, she groans as she tries to reach for the call nurse button. “At least I can get some drugs.”

“Oh, mama. I’m sorry. Didn’t they tell you? As a ‘former alcoholic’ you don’t get the hard stuff but the Tylenol should be enough.”

At your sarcastic comment, Eddie and Steve felt both pain and satisfaction course through them as memories flashed through your mind. 

“Get. OUT! I didn’t want you here then and I don’t now!”

“Don’t talk to her that way.”, the pretty boy snarled in a deep tone. 

“Steve…please. You promised me.”, you plead. 

“Sweetheart, she shouldn’t be talking to you like this and you shouldn’t allow it.”

“Shouldn’t allow it? Are you fucking kidding me?! She’s weak just like her father was. Why do you think she ran off constantly?! She could never stay and face the music of trouble she caused so she ran and opened her legs to anyone who would take her. I’m not surprised you two fell for it! NOW GE—”

The wind swirled around you as the lights in the room turned off except for the overhead lamp above her hospital bed. Both vampires were on either side of her with Eddie’s palm placed over her mouth. 

“You know, I have a dad like you. Spent most of my life in and out of prison for petty crimes while abusing me and my mother. After she died, he just went out of control until they gave him life back home in Indiana. Thankfully, I had an uncle who took care of me after and then fell in love with a man who loved me for me. Unfortunately, your daughter didn’t have that. She spent her ENTIRE LIFE fighting for it up until a few weeks ago.”

“She seems to think all the bad things that have been happening are her fault. I wonder why that is.”, Steve asked rhetorically. “You don’t deserve her. Even now after everything you said she’s worried we’re going to kill you and, honestly, if she or Eddie wasn’t here I may have followed through with that.”

His eyes turned black in anger as her own widened in fear. 

“Stop it. Leave her be.”, you beg. “Please.”

“Are you sure, baby girl?”, Eddie murmured before abruptly both sets of black eyes looked your way. “Lose the attitude, Y/N.”

“I didn’t say anything.” You glared at them with a fury of your own. “But I guess it doesn’t matter. You’re going to do whatever the fuck you want anyway and I am NOT your baby girl. Not anymore.”

“You want us gone, honey? To ‘protect’ us?”, Steve growled as he began walking towards you. “Fine. Your wish is our punishment.”

Wind blew again and the lights blinked on leaving you and your mother alone.

“Jesus, this medication is a lot stronger than I realized.”, she sighed as you sat down again and began to sob.

##############

True to your request, they left you be and it killed you. Even worse, they hadn’t streamed at all in over two weeks so you weren’t able to even see their faces except in your dreams. Occasionally, you checked the chatter on their site doing the job they had paid you for while reading through people’s comments. 

Most of their fans seemed to think the police had succeeded in scaring them away while others thought you were the reason saying that Mina must have talked them out of it for one reason or another. 

A knock on your door one Saturday afternoon startled you but you were prepared, grabbing a nearby knife as you peaked through the curtain. 

“Dustin? Hey, what are you doing here?”

“Hey, Y/N. May I come in? I swear it’s just me.” Nodding, you allowed the boy entry and gestured towards your couch for him to take a seat. “Oh, um, I won’t be here that long but I just came down to check on Eddie and Steve. Seems Harrington is struggling a bit with being a vampire. Not because of you or anything!”, he quickly countered when your head hung. “At least…I don’t think so.”, Dustin sighs as he leans against your kitchen counter. 

“Mike and I did a ton of research after Steve said Eddie was still alive to try and get some explanation about why he is the way that he is without resorting to regular vampire lore but we couldn’t find anything outside of D&D. Over the past two years, he seems to follow the regular no sunlight, needs blood, and hates crosses but what I’ve always questioned is that feeling thing he’s mentioned.”

“I know in some comics when a vampire turns another they have a connection and can feel each other’s emotions or share memories kind of like what he told me happened after you drank his blood. What confuses me is, you and Steve weren’t turned when he felt you two.”

“Dustin, honey, why are you telling me this?”

The boy sighs again as he crosses his arms over his chest. 

“I’m thinking…that has to mean something, right? Whether it be chemical, cosmical, or supernatural… and the fact that Steve feels it to… that’s not a coincidence, Y/N. They both have been having a hard time and you can see it in their faces… I can see it in yours to.”

“They are streaming tonight. They are going to answer questions and just be seen. I think that will be good for them to get their minds focused on something. Maybe, you should do the same.”

After giving him a hug and walking him out, you sat in front of your computer screen and stared at the blank background for what felt like hours before heavily exhaling and logging into their site. People were a buzz with the fact that they would finally be seeing the vampire they adored so much and the human that took care of him. They had no idea. 

Their grainy faces suddenly illuminated your moniter and your heart shattered into a million pieces. Steve didn’t look like the man you had met a couple of months ago but a shell of someone else. His skin was unbelievably pale and his hair hung in front of his eyes blocking a lot of his face from your view. His body folded into itself as the beautiful smile you had fallen in love with was noticeably absent.  Eddie didn’t look any better as he quietly maneuvered the mouse in front of him as his black eyes scanned the screen. 

“Hey…hey everybody. I know it’s been a while but, um, as you can see I’ve been taking care of Renfield. I…uh…I had to turn him so…”

StokersQueen: “Doesn’t Renfield die after he’s turned? Are we going to lose him?!”

“No…no we aren’t going to lose him. We’ve just been going through a lot right now.”

Dracula4ever: “Is it because of that bitch Mina? I notice she’s not there this time.”

Both men growled at the comment.

“Don’t disrespect her like that.”

Dracula4ever: “Oh please! This show used to be awesome but you bring in one slut and everything changes!”

Dracula4ever has been booted from the stream.

“Mina?”, Eddie asked as his eyes scanned the screen for any confirmation. 

Babygirl85: “Come on, Mina! If you’re there, say something!”

Justhereironically: “MINA! <3”

InnocentLittleMina: “Even if she be not harmed, her heart may fail her in so much and so many horrors; and hereafter she may suffer--both in waking, from her nerves, and in sleep, from her dreams.”

The metalhead exhaled at your quote of the novel as the fans in chat went wild with awes and even more questions. 

“Do you believe in destiny? That even the powers of time can be altered for a single purpose? That the luckiest man who walks on this earth is the one who finds—”

“…true love.”, Steve finishes the quote with a deep tone that sounds nothing like his regular voice. “We miss you.”

“But we aren’t going to force you, sweetheart.”

Exhaling, they close their eyes as they feel all your emotions run through your body before finally landing on desperate wanting and immense love that you had never felt for anyone in your entire life. 

InnocentLittleMina: “I’m scared. Seeing you two in so much pain… I love you so much. I don’t…”

“I know. I know, Mina, but what happened wasn’t your fault. Your mom and childhood weren’t your fault. All the idiot men in your life who hurt you wasn’t because of you. Even as a human, princess, I would have done the same things to protect you because we love you to.”

“You deserve all the love you give to people, honey. It’s ok to let us take care of you and believe me. Out of everything I’ve experienced, this…”, Steve gestures to himself. “…is nothing. I get what Dracula is saying now when it comes to us and our guilt. NONE of this is your doing or your fault.”

They both softly smile at the camera as Eddie leans towards it as if he’s looking into your eyes. 

“Come back to Daddy, baby.”

You don’t even turn off your computer as you swivel in your chair and run towards the front door. Heavy rain hits your face as you search for your keys once you get to your car but ring laced hands abruptly grip your waist and after you blink you find yourself in their bedroom. 

Need overtakes you three as they lay on either side of you and remove your wet clothes while kissing any part of your skin they could reach. 

The sound of constant binging makes Eddie grunt in frustration as a grin stretches across your face. 

“You—mmm—you left the sound on.”, you pant.

Steve’s lips kiss along that sweet spot on your neck as the other vampire whooshes to computer, cheekily smiling as he quickly moves the mouse. 

“Sorry, guys. The three of us need to have a chat that doesn’t involve an audience.”

Getting annoyed with the machine in front of him, he yanks the cord from the wall before sprinting back beside you and attaching his mouth to your neck as well. Their hips grinded against your thighs as the pads of Steve’s fingers played with your clit.

After tilting back to remove his shirt, Eddie leans over your body and a long line of spit leaves his lips falling between your folds as the other boy collects it, pushing it into your pussy with his fingers making you groan. 

The feeling of teeth against your thigh makes you jump and the metalhead’s black eyes meet yours as they silently ask for permission before you nod your approval. Tugging on Steve’s arm, he brings him between your legs, kissing him passionately as their fingers play with your cunt. Both their lips travel along opposite limbs, licking and lightly sucking their way up to your meaty flesh. 

When their fangs penetrate your thighs at the same time, your eyes roll back as the pleasure courses through you. It wasn’t meant to feed, only to sustain as they snacked on your blood while their fingers moved faster against you; Eddie playing with your clit with his thumb while Steve quickly thrust his two digits into your center. 

Coming off you with a pop, you watch as the long-haired vampire made sure his boyfriend healed you properly before doing it himself. They licked your blood of their face and the sight alone had you shuddering as you came. 

“D-Daddy…”, you whimpered as he quickly came up to kiss your lips.

Flipping on to his back, he maneuvered you till you were sitting on his face while hovering over his hard, leaking cock. Spiting over the tip, you smeared it down him with your palm, enveloping your mouth around his length as Steve kissed random parts of your skin. 

Eddie’s tongue immediately began devouring you, flicking against your bundle of nerves as he wrapped his arms around your waist to hold you to him. 

“You look so beautiful like this. So fucking sexy.”, Steve murmured as his face pressed against the side of yours, his humid breathes warming your cheek.

Tilting his head just below yours, his mouth kissed and sucked on his boyfriend’s balls making him buck his hips up in pleasure, choking you slightly as drool spilled from your lips. 

As his lips encased around your clit, the sudden intrusion of Eddie’s finger into your ass simultaneously made you gasp as both vampires mewled at the feeling it gave as it coursed through them as well. 

“Did you like that, baby?”, Steve asked in a low seductive grumble that had you clenching around the other man’s tongue as he shook his head and pressed his face deeper into you. “Yeah? Fuck! I can feel you both. Have you ever had someone fuck you like that before?”

While your hand continued to pump him, Eddie slid another finger inside of you, stretching you further till your vision blurred as your orgasm was swiftly approaching. 

“Answer me, honey. Have you?”

“N-No. Please Daddy. It feels…”

“Yeah? Tell us, baby. How does it feel?” Pressing his nose to your cheek again, your mouth fell open as the English language left your brain. “Come on, Y/N. How does it feel?”

“Good! So fucking good! Please don’t stop!”

Steve grinned as he tenderly petted your head, opening his mouth wide, and holding his own head still as the Eddie rutted his hips quickly, thrusting his cock deep down the vampire’s throat. 

Your release rippled through you as you screamed into his flesh beneath you. Once you had come down, the metalhead firmly pulled on your hair, bringing you up so your back was to his chest while Steve laid in front of you. 

“W-W-Wait, please.” Both vampires pause as your little pleading voice cuts through their need. “If…If we do this…I want Eddie and Steve. Please…I’ve never…”

As they both blink, you watch as their fangs recede and their soft brown color eyes push forward. Eddie’s arm slides under the pillow around your front, hugging you to him as he kisses your shoulder. 

“Everything’s ok, baby girl. You’re safe. If you don’t feel comfortable or you want to stop just let us know ok?”

“Ok, Daddy. Just go slow please.”

As Steve caressed your cheek, you felt the metalhead lean away from you before a bottle popped open and he was on you again. You gasp at the oddly warm feeling of the lube as he works his fingers to take care of you.

Seeing the nervousness flash through your eyes, the other vampire softly tried to soothe you. 

“Daddy’s right, honey. You’re okay. Everything is okay.”

“I saw your first time with him.”, you smile as you cling to Eddie’s arm around your chest. “I felt how scared you were before.”

“Did you see how long we laid there till he really started moving? I thought I was ruining the mood.”, he chuckles. “But he made me feel safe…loved. I trusted him.”, he coos as his eyes flick briefly behind you. “I know you do to because we can feel it and we trust you, Y/N.”

A tear fell down your face and he quickly wiped it away. 

“I’m so sorry, Steve.”

“Hey, look at me. This isn’t your fault. Say it, honey.”

“What happened to you isn’t my fault.”

“I don’t believe you.”, Eddie added as his stern eyes looked you over. “Say it again.”

“What happened to Steve wasn’t my fault.”, you responded with a bit more confidence making them smile. 

“Good girl, sweetheart. Are you ready?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Do you think you can help me, pretty girl?” Taking a hold of one of your wrists, he brought one of your arms behind you and placed your hand on your behind. “Just hold it open for me so I can go slow, ok?”

After nodding, you did what he asked, your breath catching when you felt his cock line up with your entrance. As he began pushing himself into your ass, your body went stiff as your face scrunched in pain. 

“Breathe, Y/N. Relax, honey. It’s going to hurt more if you don’t relax.”, Steve whispers, resting his forehead on yours.

Doing small thrusts behind you, Eddie was pushing himself inch by inch, trusting that you or Steve would stop him should he need to. A small grumble immitted from his chest and his boyfriend reciprocated as his mouth fell open in a silent moan. 

“Fuck, baby. He’s having so much trouble control himself.” As the pretty boy murmurs to you, his hands begin to roam, kneading your breasts down to your center. “God damnit. You’re so wet. Does it feel good now, Y/N?”

Between his words and Eddie’s hold on you as he split you open, you couldn’t open your mouth. Hell, you could barely remember your name as the pain subsided and the need for him to fully take you took over. 

When his hips connected with yours, you whimpered as your head fell forward. 

“Talk to us, baby, please.”

“M-Move. You…you can move now.”

“Hang on, princess. We—fuck—we need to see if you can handle us both. God fucking damn it. Are you fucking kidding me?” 

You knew he wasn’t talking to you because you felt it to. You were so full of him you could only imagine how tight you were squeezing him. 

“Y/N, honey, I’m going to lift your leg over my waist, ok?”

“Ok, Steve.”

Scooting closer to you, his palm tenderly ran along the skin of your thigh as he pulled your leg over his hip causing you and Eddie to groan as your body jostled slightly. Running his mushroom tip along your slit, he collected your slick before slowly pushing his cock into your center. 

Your arm immediately shot out under his own to cling to his shoulder as a bunch of pleasurable feelings overwhelmed your senses. 

“Oh my god.”

Both vampires made subtle motions, pulling back slightly before thrusting all the way inside of you again. 

“Are…Are you ok, Y/N?”, Steve asked, his voice a mix between his and the gruff timbre of his vampire tone.

Nodding aggressively, you encourage them to make you theirs and they don’t disappoint. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room mixed with loud moans from all three of you. They both hit a steady rhythm hitting all those sensitive spots inside of you at the same time till you were sobbing as your nails dug into their flesh. 

“Fuck… bite me.”

A different type of want and need flows through them at your request as they snarl under their breath. Lifting your head, you rest your cheek on Steve’s as he doesn’t even hesitate, breaking your skin with his fangs and draining your blood. Eddie tugs on his hair and the boy growls causing the metalhead to roughly grip his face. 

“I didn’t hear you fucking ask. She’s not in charge of your pleasure, I am.” Their black eyes glare at each other before he releases him to continue feeding. “I’ll deal with that attitude later.”

Turning his attention back to you, his demeanor softens. 

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yes, Daddy, please. I trust you. I trust you, baby.”

Biting the other side of your throat, your eyes roll and flutter closed as they pound into you harder, clinging to each other over you as they eat. The bed shakes at their quickened pace and your fingers tangle in Eddie’s hair behind you as you drag your nails down Steve’s back. 

You cum harder than you ever had in your entire life, shuddering against them as your body goes limp. 

“Please…”

Your tone was smaller than before but it practically screamed in their ears as they released you letting your head fall. You watched with hazy, half lidded eyes as their lips mingled together; panting into each other’s mouths as they came.

Steve head fell hard against the pillow as he tried to catch his breath while Eddie hastily healed the wounds on your neck, kissing them softly as they closed.

“Since its both of us breaking your skin, I don’t want to leave you exposed like that. Are you alright, baby?”

After carefully pulling out of you, the vampire in front of you tenderly pushed your hair away from your face as he checked you over. 

“H-Heavy…”

“I’m going to get her something to eat.”

While waiting for him to return, Eddie slowly pulled out of you as well, murmuring apologies as you winced. Running back to the bed, you grimaced at the sandwich Steve held in his hands. 

“I know it seems like a lot but we’ll just take little bites, okay?”

As delicately as he could, the long-haired vampire sat up, bringing you with him so you could utilize him to lean against as you ate and drank the water they gave you. 

“We’re kind of back to the trial and error stage. I was going to bring a coke but I wasn’t sure if that would be too much sugar plus you need to hydrate.”

“Maybe juice next time?”

“Yeah… I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.”

“It’s been a rough couple of weeks.”

You heard them talking but they both sounded so far away. You had never been in this headspace before; the little girl headspace. Even as a child you weren’t really allowed to be one having to grow up pretty quickly in your environment. An adults mindset found you before you entered your double digits and battled with the developing child you had been. Even as a current adult, you felt them go toe to toe constantly but right now in this moment… all you heard was the little girl.

“Baby, what’s going on?”

Blinking, your glassy eyes turned to face them as you scrunched your nose in thought.

“I’ve never…felt little…like this before. My…my mind…is so quiet. I’ve never… I’m sorry for leaving.” The crack in your voice broke their hearts as Steve set everything aside so he could move closer to you and hug you with Eddie. 

“It’s ok, sweetheart. You’re here now and these past few weeks have been scary for all of us.”

“I saw you on the screen. What happened? Were you not eating? Dustin said Steve was struggling.”

Before answering your questions, they took you in their arms and brought you to a bath. After setting you in the warm water and cleaning your skin, they each took a seat near the tub with Steve on the edge and Eddie on the floor reaching over to pet your head. 

“We don’t know how to explain it and, to be honest, we didn’t want to because we didn’t want you to feel like…you HAD to be here. I told you before I always felt you but after having you and losing you—”

“It was like being stabbed again.”, Steve cut in. “Honey, I was in love with you before but after turning and feeling what Eddie had been talking about… I felt like I did when I lost him.”

“Steve, I’m—”

“No, no, baby. I’m not saying it to make you feel bad. I just…all of my feelings were…are… amplified to a 10 and I didn’t want to do anything let alone eat. We did of course but it was never enough. Never enough to fill that hole of you not being here.”

“You complete us, sweetheart. You ARE a part of us and like Stevie said, we aren’t saying this to make you feel bad. If you want to leave again you can and we won’t stop you but even though you’re not a vampire I feel like you felt the same things we did.”

“I knew from the first time I saw you on your stream… I knew that I loved you; both of you. I just thought maybe I was being crazy.”, you giggle making them chuckle as well. “Not being near you or even seeing your faces these past couple of weeks has just killed me. I dreamed about you every night.”

“So did we, honey.”

While Eddie lifted you out of the tub and got you in comfy clothes, Steve rapidly changed the sheets so you three could promptly climb into bed. 

“Thank you for being so gentle with me.”

“Of course, pretty girl. Did you like it? What we did.” When you nod your head, his fingers caress your face and travel up into your hair. “Can you say it?”

“I liked what we did together?”

“What did we do, baby?”

Biting your bottom lip, you blush as he smiles while the other vampire settles in beside you. 

“I liked feeling you and Steve inside at me at the same time.”

“Good. We can show you so much more whenever your ready. Steve and I have experimented with a lot especially when we were starting to delve into the dominate world. Tomorrow I can show you one of those things when I punish this bad boy over here.”

“Me? What did I do?”

“You didn’t ask to feed on her and you gave me attitude. Who controls your pleasure?”

“You do.”

“I’m sorry, what? I didn’t hear that. Did you hear that, baby girl?”

“No, Daddy, I didn’t.”

Steve smirks as you and Eddie grin at him with wide, beautiful, tooth filled smiles. 

“I said you do, Daddy.”

#################

@chelebelletx @mandyjo8719 @nailbatanddungeon

[ur-mom-did-69]

Did We Say Goodbye?

Nika Muhl x oc

Word count: 1.2k

I really really suggest listening to the song!!

The party, which was a big one at Nika’s friend's house, had turned out to be a bust right from the get go. The keg had been tapped out way too quickly, and the lukewarm cans of beer that were left over that hardly anybody wanted to drink. Added to that, the air around the gathering seemed thick with loud conversations and not enough personal space that everybody was trying their best to ignore. Cameron leaned silently against the railing on the porch, her cell phone clutched in the palm of one hand and a plastic cup squeezed in the other, which she had not drunk from in at least an hour. She sat in anticipation, waiting for Nika—or rather, she was just hoping that something would turn up, some sign that tonight was not going to end in utter catastrophe.

The night was deceptively calm, the kind that should have been perfect for sneaking off with your girlfriend to sit under the stars and talk about everything and nothing. But Cameron's stomach churned, a mixture of frustration and dread. They'd been fighting more lately, the strain of their schedules and mismatched priorities pushing them apart in ways that felt irreversible.

She heard the unmistakable and familiar hum of Nika's car before she actually saw it come into view. The sleek sedan pulled smoothly onto the gravel driveway, and for a moment, a wave of relief washed over her, bringing a moment of temporary ease. But as Nika emerged from the vehicle, her body language spoke volumes beyond any words. Her shoulders were stiff, and her lips pressed firmly into a thin line-clearly, this wasn't going to be a peaceful or easy conversation.

"Hey," Nika said as she approached Cameron, cool and clipped, without any hint of warmth.

“Hey," Cameron replied, with a hint of urgency in the sound of her voice as she promptly shoved her phone into her pocket. "I didn't think you'd actually come."

"You texted me five times," Nika said with one raised eyebrow. "I figured it must be important enough to warrant that much communication."

Cameron winced a little at the reminder. "I just… I really wanted to talk to you about some things that have been on my mind."

"Great," Nika said, crossing her arms in a gesture indicating she was ready to listen. "So, talk.”

The words did not flow so easily from Cameron's mind and out of her mouth. Cameron turned to Nika, who wasn't just her girlfriend but someone who had been there through the thick and thin, she was overcome by a deep sadness that tore at her heart. They once had a connection that seemed impossible to break, profoundly strong. Yet now, it seemed as though they were standing on opposite sides of a huge canyon, each one yelling into the vastness that separated them.

"I really don't know how much more of this I can handle," Cameron finally managed to utter, her voice shaking with emotion. "It feels like we're always either fighting with each other or just ignoring each other altogether.

Nika’s jaw tightened as she felt a surge of frustration. “You really think I don’t feel the same way you do? I’m literally killing myself trying to manage everything, including school, basketball, and our relationship. And every single time I make a mistake, it feels as if you’re just sitting there, ready to remind me of it.”

“That’s not fair at all,” Cameron shot back with equal intensity. “You honestly don’t think I’m trying just as hard? I’ve been waiting for you to make an effort to meet me halfway in this, but it feels like basketball is the only thing that truly matters to you above everything else.”

“Because it is," Nika snapped with frustration. "It's my future, Cam, the very thing that defines me. It's the only thing I've ever been good at in my life, and I simply can't-I won't-allow it to slip away from me.”

The words hung in the air, unbending, their tension tangible. Cameron felt the sting of those words deep in her heart, but she could also feel the deep pain lurking behind Nika's eyes. It wasn't just anger that she was seeing; it was fear and desperation combined, oozing out so powerfully that it was unmistakable. Nika was fighting for her dreams, and in that fight, Cameron found herself wrestling with the unsettling feeling of losing her girlfriend in the process.

The silence stretched on uncomfortably until finally Nika let out a sigh, running a hand through her hair in frustration. "Look, I didn't come here with the intention to fight or argue. I just… I really don't know what it is that you want from me."

Cameron swallowed hard, the words hanging heavily in her throat, her voice emerging barely above a whisper. "I just want you, that's all."

Nika's eyes softened ever so slightly for a brief moment, but then she quickly looked away, her gaze becoming fixed on some distant point in the vast night beyond. "Maybe that's not enough for us anymore.”

The words hit her like a punch to her stomach, and she stood there for a moment, too stunned to react. Cameron blinked several times, her vision beginning to blur as tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over and run down her cheeks. "So that's it? You're just going to give up on us completely?"

"I don't know," Nika admitted with a heavy sigh, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "I genuinely don't know how to fix this situation we're in. And honestly, I don't think you have a clear solution either."

Cameron felt an uncomfortable tightening in her chest, but despite the overwhelming urge to cry, she refused to let the tears fall. Not at this moment. Not in this place. "So what does that mean? You're simply going to leave us behind?"

For a moment, Nika stood in a daze, as though weighing her options and pondering the consequences of each choice. Then, as if after an eternity, she nodded her head slowly. It was a reluctant, almost agonized motion-as if the weight of this action was like driving the final nail in a coffin. "I think I need to," she said, her voice tinged with resignation.

Cameron stepped backward, crossing her arms carefully to hold herself in place and prevent her automatic instinct to reach out to Nika. She watched intently as Nika turned around and began walking toward her car, the crunch of loose gravel beneath her shoes loud with every step. The door slammed shut with a solid thud, and almost immediately, the engine roared to life in a surefire sign of her leaving. For one brief second, Cameron clung to the hope that Nika might turn around, say something that would somehow make everything between them different.

But in the end, she didn't.

The car rolled out of the drive with a soft rumble, blowing a thick cloud of dust all over the place, and kicked off down the road. There Cameron stood, frozen solid, her heart pounding loudly in her chest while her mind replayed all the moments of the night like a film on repeat. She could feel that she had seen something so deep in Nika's eyes; maybe it was regret, or at least a little love in them. And in those moments, it didn't matter anyhow. Nika was gone.

And as Cameron continued blankly staring down the void of the road stretching before her house, she suddenly realized, with the sinking feeling in her stomach, that she couldn't even remember if they had said a proper good-bye to each other.

[humanpurposes]

Just for a Moment, part i

Tom Bennett has a habit of climbing through her bedroom window whenever he's in trouble // Main Masterlist

Tom Bennett x OFC

Warnings: 18+, mentions of war and death, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut

Words: 3800

A/n: Me? Starting another series to avoid updating ongoing fics? No wayyyy. This is going to be a 4 part mini series and their song is When the Sun Hits by Slowdive, just so you know. Also available to read on AO3.

Tom Bennett had always had a talent for getting under people’s skin.

Kitty knew it when they were kids, when they’d run around the streets of Longsight and the alleyways behind Slade Grove. He would rile anyone up, regardless if they were older or bigger than him. He didn’t even do it for a reason, he just liked to get a raise out of people.

He used to tease her too, for all sorts of stupid reasons, because she was a year younger than him, because her mother used to dress her in shirts and shorts that used to belong to her older brothers, because when they’d buy bags of Yorkshire mix from the shop, she would only eat the red ones. Every Sunday after Church, they’d sit in the park or on the front step of the Bennetts’ house, and Tom would pick out every sweet he knew she liked, and keep the rest for himself.

When Tom was eleven he moved to the big school, where Kitty’s brothers all went, Eddie, Art and Stevie. Eddie was a prefect. He used to come home with all sorts of stories of Tom Bennett, ‘from over the road’. Tom talked back to his teachers, disrupted assemblies, picked fights with other kids, every offence Kitty’s mind could imagine. 

It only got worse when his mam died.

Thursday 12th July, 1928

Kitty had never been to a funeral before. She had a new dress and a black overcoat for the occasion. It was cold in the church graveyard, overcast and windy. Mam had held her hand so tightly she wondered if she’d ever get it back. 

The Bennetts stood together, on the other side of the grave. Lois’ hair was braided into a messy plait that stuck out on one side, the ribbon at the end tied into a knot rather than a bow. She was trying to hold her father’s shoulder as he cried, but she couldn’t quite reach. Tom stood a little further away from his father. His hair was messy, his knees scabbed and bruised, his shirt skewed and the buttons done in the wrong places.

Kitty kept her eyes on him, all through the service, the burial and the wake back at number 27. Tom didn’t cry once.

That night, when she should have been asleep, she lay awake in her bed, listening to her brothers whispering and in the next room as they always did. Sometimes she felt sad to be left out of their antics, but tonight she was glad to be on her own, in her little box room at the front of the house.

Until she heard a tapping on the window.

She froze between her sheets. Was it too late for it to have been a bird?

And then it came again, tap, tap, tap.

With a determined little huff, she rose from the bed, smoothed her hands down the front of her nightgown and drew back the curtains.

“Tom?” she whispered.

He grinned when he saw her, perched on the windowsill behind the glass. 

Kitty raised the window and before she could invite him in he was crawling through it.

“What are you doing?” she hissed.

Tom shrugged and went to sit on the edge of her bed. He glanced around the room, at the little shelf of books, dolls and small wooden animals, the black overcoat hung on the back of the door and the drawings stuck to the wardrobe. He’d been in the Wheelans’ kitchen before, but he’d never been allowed upstairs.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he said, far too loudly for Kitty’s liking.

She pressed a firm finger against his lips. She held her breath, waiting for one of the lads to notice, but they kept on chatting– whatever it was teenage boys chatted about.

“Keep your voice down,” she said.

Tom smiled against her finger and made a cross over his heart.

She sat beside him, swaying her legs while she tried to think of something to say.

Tom reached for a book on her bedside table and flicked through the pages. When he was bored of that, he grabbed her teddy. He tossed it about in his hands and ran his hands over the ancient and matted fur. It had been Eddie’s, back in the day. Every single one of her brothers had owned it before her.

“I don’t like seeing my dad cry,” Tom said.

Kitty frowned. “Why not?”

“I just don’t like it. He’s always been a bit…”

Dad had often mentioned the case of Douglas Bennett. They had fought in the same regiment in 1914. When Micheal Wheelan came back from war, he returned as a self-proclaimed hero. His boys loved to hear his stories and take turns wearing his medals. Douglas Bennett had returned to Manchester a far more troubled kind of man.

“And with mum he–” but he stopped himself with an irritated grunt. “Can I stay here?”

“What?” 

“Not forever, I just… can I sit here, just for a moment?”

Kitty took the teddy from him and placed her hand firmly in his. “That’s what we’re doing, isn’t it?”

From then on, Tom made quite a habit of appearing at the window and hiding in her room whenever he was in trouble.

Saturday 2nd September, 1939

Being up and out before the boys are awake is a strange feeling, it’s the only time the house is so quiet.

It’s just before dawn. The sky is a hazy shade of dark blue but an orange glow is starting to appear over the rooftops. Mr Gregory wants her in the shop early to help with a delivery.

Something draws her eyes from her black leather shoes on the pavement, up to the end of the street. A figure makes his way down Slade Grove. She recognises the sway of his shoulders and the end of a lit cigarette in his mouth.

“Alright, pretty Kitty?” Tom says when they’re in earshot of each other, taking the cigarette between his fingers. “What are you doing up so late?”

“It’s early,” she says. He’s in a jacket and slacks, and he has a dazed sort of look in his eyes. She can guess where he’s been but it doesn’t stop her from asking. “What have you been up to?”

“Don’t give me that look,” he says, taking another drag. He tilts his chin up and exhales the smoke above their heads through pouted lips. “Just been down the pub, nothing scandalous.”

A likely story. She’s seen the police knocking on their front door twice in four weeks.

“How’s your job in the shop going?” he asks.

It was supposed to be temporary, a little money to make ends meet after dad got laid off from the factory. Six months later and she’s still there. 

“Grand,” she says.

“Can you do me mates rates on a packet of Marlboros?”

“Yeah, if you promise to actually buy them.”

He clutches his chest and his face lights up in an ironic expression. “Of course, what sort of man do you take me for?”

The sort who used to sell cigarettes in the schoolyard— God knows how he got his hands on them in the first place. At that age he could talk himself out of anything. That’s what makes Tom Bennett every parent’s worst nightmare, he’s a troublemaker with pretty blue eyes and an infectiously charming smile.

“I should get going,” she says, taking another step until Tom moves in front of her. Her eyes meet with the collar of his jacket and the hollow of his throat. She can smell the musk of the pub on him, the cigarette smoke and the faded scent of his aftershave.

She looks up to his face and his expression has changed, not quite smiling but amused, smug and somewhat severe.

“What?” she says impatiently.

“Nothing,” he says, unphased, “have a good shift.”

The morning drags on at a gruelling pace. Mr Gregory’s getting on a bit now so Kitty has to do a lot of the heavy lifting, piling boxes into the storage room round the back, going through the stock in the shop, filling the shelves, flattening the boxes and bringing them to the bins outside. It feels like hours of work, but when she looks at the clock it’s not even 9. Eight hours until closing. Mr and Mrs Gregory live above the shop, so at least she gets a steady supply of tea, toast and bits of carrot cake.

By the afternoon she feels her eyes start to close. The morning rush is over now and business will dwindle for the rest of the day. She tries to stay awake, fanning herself with her blouse and nibbling on little mouthfuls of cake.

The bell above the door rings. She straightens her spine and smooths down her apron, ready to put on her best customer service voice, only for Tom Bennett to swagger in through the door.

He’s changed his clothes and donned a blue jacket instead of the earthy green she had seen him in earlier.

“Did you get enough sleep?” Kitty asks at the heavy look under his eyes.

He grins it off. “Packet of Marlboros please, Miss Wheelan.”

She fetches them from the cabinet behind the counter and places the packet in front of him. His aftershave smells a little stronger now. “Anything else?”

He drums his fingers against the counter, looking around innocently at the array of chocolate bars and the jars of sweets behind her.

“I’ll have a bag of Yorkshire mix,” he says.

She takes the jar down from the shelf. She can hear him breathing steadily through his nose as she scoops the sweets into a paper bag. When she turns back around he’s watching her.

“Nine pence,” she says, swallowing down a nervous feeling in her throat.

Tom counts through some change from his pocket and drops the coins into her hands, a sixpence and a thruppence. His fingertips brush over her palms and his knuckles are scabbed over. She dreads to think why.

“Nice one,” he says once she puts the payment through the till. “What do you make of this stuff going on in Poland then?” he says, popping a pear drop into his mouth.

She’s only been reading the headlines of the papers when she stocks them in the shop every morning, or hearing snippets from dad’s radio. 

“Since when did you start taking an interest in foreign affairs?” she asks.

He reaches into the bag and pulls out a raspberry. “Been reading the news, haven’t I?” he says, holding it out for her. 

She hesitates for a moment before she takes it. She lets the sugar melt over her tongue. It tastes like summer afternoons after school and weekends in the park, tearing at the grass and watching the boys play football because they’d never let her join in.

“That’s where Harry is, isn’t it?” she says, “Lois must be worried.

Tom tuts and tucks the bag into his pocket. “Posh boys can talk their way out of anything,” he says. “Speaking of, I met Madge’s new man last night.”

“At the pub?”

“Yeah. Right ponce in’t he?”

She purses her lips in irritation. She hates it when he does this, poking fun at others until he feels better about himself. “He’s training to be a barrister.”

“Like I said.”

She shrugs. “I suppose there are worse jobs to have.”

“Is that what you’ll do then? Find some rich boy with a big house and stick up his arse?”

It’s not quite the future she has planned out for herself. Her friend Madge is a secretary in Manchester. There are all sorts of exams she had to pass, but it could be doable. Mam’s always tried to put her off it though. “Parents need their girls,” she says.

“I don't think I’m likely to find any of those in Longsight. Maybe I should ask Lois for advice?” she says, trying not to smile.

“Steady there, Kitty, I didn’t mean to get you all excited,” he says, leaning into the counter. His voice is lower all of a sudden, it sends an odd, jittery feeling though her chest and stomach.

He winks at her before he turns and leaves. The bell rings and the shop is quiet again.

Her feet feel heavy when she walks through the front door. Her bed calls her name but she’s unbearably thirsty. Saturdays are half days and the boys are already home from the factory. Mam’s started on dinner and the others are around the kitchen table. 

Dad waves a blue leaflet at her. “One of Douglas Bennett’s pacifist… things,” he says.

“Do you really think there’ll be a war, dad?” Kitty says, shrugging off her coat.

“If there is, it won’t be long,” he says with a determined nod, “no one wants another war.”

Eddie and Art hum in agreement. The oldest of the four Wheelan siblings, they were born before dad went away to war. Their faces are older and more stern, like they can still remember a time when they didn’t have their father around. They still call Stevie and Kitty “the babies,” which she thinks must make them feel more important.

Stevie’s in good spirits though. “Ran into Lois and Connie on the bus, and Connie personally invited me to their gig tonight!” he says brightly.

“Come off it,” Art grumbles, “she was just being friendly.”

“Kitty!” Stevie sings, waltzing over to her. He takes her coat from her hands and twirls her around the kitchen, to mam’s despair. “Come to the Fiddler’s Bow with me tonight, please.”

“So you can ditch me for Connie once their set’s done?”

“There’ll be other people there,” Stevie says, turning her around to face their brothers, “or ask one of these grumpy bastards to join us.”

“Stephen Wheelan!” their mother chides.

Eddie and Art share a pointed look and shake their heads, already backing away towards the front room.

In the end she decides she’ll just have to brave it. After eating, she changes into a flowy, white blouse and an emerald green skirt, pinning her hair up so it won’t go everywhere as she moves. She hides a tube of lipstick inside her purse. Mam and dad would rather die than let her leave the house with makeup. She only owns a lipstick because Lois Bennett had given her one.

Stevie brushes up well, in a white shirt and freshly shined leather shoes, his hair slicked back with wax. They run into each other on the landing and race downstairs.

Mam gives them the usual instructions. Home by 11 o'clock and not a minute later. One drink each. No smoking. No noise when they get in. 

Stevie’s already pulling a packet of cigarettes and a lighter out of his pocket when they’re halfway through the front door.

And Kitty’s breath hitches when, for the third time that day, she sees Tom Bennett. He’s hovering in the doorway, putting empty milk bottles out. When he notices them, he smiles. “Off somewhere nice?” he says.

“Fiddler’s Bow,” Stevie calls back, “to see Lois and Connie play.”

“She’s down there already,” Tom says, his eyes flickering to Kitty for only a moment, “left half an hour ago.”

He’s in a white t-shirt now, that’s just a little too tight against his torso.

“Why don’t you join us?” Kitty says without thinking it through. “Stevie’s going for Connie, I’ll need a partner once he ditches me.”

Tom looks down at the pavement. His lips are thin and his hands fidget by his side. “I’ve um… got something else on tonight, ‘m sorry.”

Her heart sinks. Any lighthearted hope she had about enjoying the evening dissolves right in front of her. Right, of course, because why would he actually want to spend more than a few moments with her?

“Movin’ on,” Stevie says, steering Kitty down the road with a brief farewell to Tom. “He’s no good, you know that?” he whispers in her ear. “Eddie says he nicks scrap metal from the yard, sells it to all sorts dodgy fuckers.”

“Yeah, I know,” she breathes. Her chest feels tight and suddenly she feels like she wants to cry.

Stevie has a good time at the gig. Lois and Connie are first in the lineup and once their set is over, Stevie makes a point of cheering the loudest. The four of them spend the rest of the night dancing.

When Stevie and Connie disappear outside for a smoke, Kitty drags Lois to the bar, to catch their breath and down glasses of tonic water. Lois drones on about her Harry issue, but having three older brothers who presume every word they say is profound and worthy of note, Kitty knows where to hum and nod without really listening.

They walk Connie home first before the three of them make their way to Slade Grove. The houses are quiet now, save for a few lights in the windows, creeping through drawn curtains. Two policemen are standing outside number 27.

“Have you seen your brother?” one of them calls to Lois when she reaches the door.

“No,” Lois says, “but if you see him before I do, will you tell him he’s in trouble?”

Kitty meets Stevie’s eyes and he raises his brows.

“Piss off,” she grumbles.

Mam and dad have gone to bed, but Eddie and Art are playing cards in the front room— or they should be. Eddie is standing by the window, peering through the curtains. 

“Who are they after?” Eddie asks.

“Who do you think?” Kitty mutters, but she doesn’t stay to hear another rant about ‘troublesome Tom Bennett’, and slips her shoes off before she makes her way upstairs.

It can’t be said Tom doesn’t make an impression on the people he meets. Mam and dad still have a soft spot for him, though less so since he’s started getting into trouble with the police, and the lads seem to outright despise him.

She’d be lying if she said he didn’t find him irritating, to a certain degree. Maybe it’s because he’s cocky, maybe it’s because he used to be surprisingly sweet, or maybe it’s because nothing seems to phase him, but something about Tom Bennett makes her restless.

She wipes off her lipstick, takes out the pins in her hair and changes into her nightgown. Her eyes feel heavy, but tomorrow is Sunday, which means the shop will be closed and she can have a whole day of ‘freedom’, so long as that includes helping with the laundry and the dinner.

Dad’s snores are evident and the boys are still distracted downstairs, they’ve even put the radio on by the sound of it.

She’s about to turn off the light when she hears three taps on the window.

He knows it’s unlocked. The window slides up and Tom squeezes through it, slipping his boots off so he doesn’t make too much noise when he plants his feet on the floor. He goes straight to the bed, making himself comfortable over the throw with his hands under his head.

“Lois says the police have been round,” he says quietly.

She looks down at her hands, nervously playing with the fabric of her nightgown. “I saw.”

He turns his head to where she stands. The lamp hits his face like sunlight, catching the sharp features of his face, the point of his nose and the curve of his lips. 

She nudges him closer to the wall, making some space for herself beside him. Her body rests against his. He smells like smoke and fresh air.

“What did you do this time?” she asks.

He doesn’t give her an answer. In a way she thinks she’d rather not know.

His arm falls around her and it feels like the most natural thing in the world. Nights with him are often like this, quiet, just two people existing in the same space.

He turns on his side to face her. “Can I stay the night?”

“Tom,” she whispers, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Please, or I’ll have to sleep on a couch in the pub.”

“Are you mad? can you imagine what Eddie’ll do if he sees you walking out my bedroom in the morning?”

“Kitty,” he hums. He brings his hand to her face, gently stroking his thumb over her cheek. His eyes are wide and pleading. “Please.”

It’s in moments like this when she hates Tom the most, when her heart thrums in her chest and she wants nothing more than to lose herself in the feeling of his skin against hers. When their heads are so close together, all she sees are two blue eyes.

Each time she thinks she wants to close the distance between them, something stops her.

Neither of them ever dare to move closer than this.

She reaches to turn off the light and turns back to Tom. Her head falls into his chest and her arm settles around his waist. She falls asleep to the pulse of his heartbeat, the sound of his breath and the warmth of his body.

And by the time the sun shines in through the window, he’s gone.

Sunday 3rd September, 1939

She appears in the kitchen just after 11 o’clock. Her body feels heavy and her eyes are still tired. She shouldn’t have gone back to sleep after she woke up the first time.

Dad’s fiddling with the radio, Art’s pouring tea into six cups, and Eddie and mam are listening to Steive’s retelling of the previous night. He seems incredibly proud of himself, despite the fact the closest he came to kissing Connie was lighting her cigarette.

She helps Art with the tea. They all like it the same way. Strong, with one sugar and a little dash of milk. 

It might almost be a perfect morning, if dad were listening to something more uplifting than the news.

“How about some music?” she says as she hands him his cup, but he doesn’t take it. His eyes are fixed on the radio, and his hands are shaking.

“Dad…”

Art appears over her shoulder and turns up the volume. “Quiet,” he says, and the others fall silent.

A voice speaks through the crackles in the transmission, “consequently, this country is at war with Germany.”

Kitty looks at the faces around her, Eddie and Art glaring furiously, Stevie’s wide eyes and his lips fallen like a child’s, mam and dad’s haunted sorrow.

The transmission ends and she wishes it didn’t, it would save her from the grave silence in the house.

She decides to make herself busy. She washes out an empty milk bottle and goes to leave it by the door.

When she opens the door the two policemen are back, only now they’re walking out of the Bennetts’ house.

Her heart sinks. They have Tom in handcuffs.

His eyes meet hers across the road. He doesn’t make a fuss, or try to protest. He hangs his head as they walk him down the street.

General taglist: @randomdragonfires @jamespotterismydaddy @theoneeyedprince (comment to be added)

Series taglist: (comment to be added)

[brandogenius]

hellooo :b can we get a oneshot of the reader surprising pheobe on tour after they’ve been apart for months? I feel like it’ll be so sweet :(

of course!!

‼️RPF‼️

Surprises on tour.

Phoebe x reader

Word count: 1,580

the house being empty without phoebes presence was something you hated. no laughter or yelling as phoebe threw flour at you while baking cupcakes. no sounds of phoebe humming tunes to unreleased songs of hers filling the air. it was quiet and empty.

of course, phoebe promised nightly phone calls before both of you went to sleep after her shows. usually for an hour or two, both of you would catch up on your day. phoebe telling you all about what went on backstage, while you rambled on about the gossip you heard in the store.

tonight’s phone call was a bit different. the smile on phoebes face was wide as she listened to you. the connection and service sometimes cutting in and out as the tour has traveled to their new destination.

“where are you?” phoebes asks through the phone. noticing the layout behind you wasn’t the same as the shared bedroom both of you are so familiar with.

“at my friends house. staying while she’s out of town” phoebe nodded “you’re not coming to the show tomorrow?” there was a lace of sadness and disappointment in phoebes voice, ringing throughout the phone. you tried your best to look sad and upset. not wanting to ruin the plan.

“unfortunately.. bad timing baby. i’ll try come to the next show in new york?” you looked up from the phone, glancing down at your suitcase. the hotel was big and spacious. a double bed, for one person tonight- room for a familiar platinum silver woman to join you tomorrow.

“that’s fine” phoebe reassured, bundled up in your hoodie. you rested your head on the hotel pillow, holding the phone above your face. “honey, it is pretty late. you need sleep before the gig tomorrow” you checked the time on the phone. 12:45am.

phoebes laughed. the small dim light from the bunk illuminating her face. the way her eyes scrunched up when laughing made you smile. “ even millions of miles apart, you still are worried about my sleep schedule. rest assured i will be sleeping the minute we end call”

you felt satisfied with the answer as you nodded. “i’ll let you sleep now then baby. you text me when you wake up alright?”

phoebe nodded on the other side, giving a thumbs up.

“i miss you” phoebe frowned, her voice small. you smiled a bit, feeling your heart hurt a bit. “don’t get sappy on me tonight. you’ll be back here in two months.” the older woman looked away for a moment “i suppose so.. just missing those cuddles and late night chats”

“i know you do baby” you chuckled. checking the time again you watched as phoebe moved around in her bunk. moving onto her side as she propped the phone up against the wall.

“go to sleep baby”

getting phoebe to sleep was always a bit of a challenge. as someone who has a shit sleep schedule, she values the free time she has in the night. taking it as a form of alone time to be able to scroll freely on social media without the countdown before she gets her hair done or having to preform on stage.

she knew you were looking out for her but it was different. phoebe was a clingy person especially at night. always loving to hold onto someone or something. extra pillows stuffed into her bunk to hold onto at night and pretend it was you beside her. back at home when not on tour, both of you would stay awake until early hours. talking and rambling about anything. it was phoebes favourite time of the night. you allowing her to come up with topics for both of you to debate on.

is pineapple on pizza allowed or should it be banned?

which is the better hair colour, pink hair or blue?

they were silly little debates that kept both of you awake till sunrise. in each others arms, legs tangled as you were given the role of defending pinapple on pizza to be the best whilst phoebe have herself the role of wanting it to be banned.

it was something that entertained both of you. then there was the more serious, deep conversations. some on the topic of mental health, the world crisis, climate change and politics.

phoebe just liked to hear you talk for hours on end. something about hearing you dive deep into theories and why you believe each star represents someone who was once on this earth, intrigues her. you had a way with how you phrased stuff. an intelligent grasp on words that made phoebe wonder how you could possible say something so poetic about pineapple or stars.

phoebe guesses you were doing a good thing. forcing the blonde to shut off her phone while the buss driver drove overnight to the state for their performance. LA was on their next stop. closest to home and closest to you. there wouldn’t have been time to visit you with the schedule packed with unloading and preparing for the show.

but at least she can be thankful every night. shutting off the phone at a reasonable time, waking up at 6am to get ready for the day. when on a normal day, the two of you would be going to sleep at this time.

shutting off the phone, the silver haired woman grabbed the nearest pillows, hugging them close to her chest as she shut her eyes, waiting for the bus to stop.

-

you were always considered a morning person. waking up to the sound of the birds chirping always gave you immense joy.

waking up at 9am was a bit later than normal for you. you didn’t have much to do other than get ready and head to the venue. you had it prepared a week in advance. discussing amongst lucy and julien to surprise phoebe on tour.

it has been four months since you last seen your girlfriend. it was needed. you had it schemed out. book a hotel in LA close to the stadium and surprise phoebe backstage.

lucy working with the security to make sure you get in without anyone noticing. she was going to meet you at the venue in an hour so you had time to prepare.

taking a quick shower and putting on some makeup, you made your way to the hotel lobby. booking a taxi to the arena wasn’t that bad. it was a quick ride. you tipped the driver, sending a quick message to lucy.

not long after, lucy makes her out. the brings you into a hug. “it’s been so long” the taller woman announced, breaking away from the hug, slinging a lanyard around your neck. ‘CREW’ was written in big bold letters.

“it’s been too long” you answered, walking with lucy into the venue. lucy herself had a lanyard with ARTIST on it. staff instantly recognising and allowing both of you to enter.

you were nervous. was phoebe going to be mad at you? would she be excited? so many thoughts ran through your brain as lucy lead you down the hallway. staff and crew busied themselves with preparing for the upcoming show tonight.

lucy stopped you outside the dressing room door. “i’ll go in first and you come in after me yeah?” lucy tilted her head, smiling at you. you nodded your head, feeling anxious. “yeah sure-“ you watched as lucy opened the door, slipping into the room.

you quietly snuck in. phoebes back was turned to you as lucy talked to her. julien was sat on the couch, her smile growing wider, eyes flicking between you and phoebe.

julien cleared her throat as lucy looked over phoebes head. “what’s that?” lucy pointed towards your direction, causing phoebe to turn around confused. phoebes eyes landed on you as she dropped the phone that was in her hands.

“holy fuck-“ phoebe wasted no time running full force at you. she jumped into your arms, wrapping her legs around your waist as she yelled excitedly. you stumbled back a bit, holding onto her tightly. julien grinning while she sipped her coffee as lucy recorded the surprise on her phone.

phoebe lifted her head up from your neck, attacking your face with kisses. “i thought you weren’t coming?!” she said in between kisses on your cheek, neck, lips and forehead. you kissed phoebe back softly, moving to the couch, phoebe still in your lap.

“well it was a surprise wasn’t it? had it planned for a while, with the help of those two” you gestured to the other two boys. phoebe sighed happily, resting her head back onto your shoulder. “you don’t know how much i missed you”

you ran a hand across her back. “i know honey. but you know what?” your hands found themselves in phoebes hair, twirling some strands around with your finger. phoebe lifts her head up, raising an eyebrow.

“what?”

“i’ll be with you for the rest of the tour. as if you can’t get rid of me now” you missed her on the forehead.

“seriously? like - for real?” she perked up with a grin. “i don’t need to hug pillows anymore i can just cuddle you?” you nodded your head

“fuck- this is the best surprise ever” phoebe laughed, hugging you tighter. you leaned back on the couch, holding onto phoebe for a little while longer before she had to be physically dragged away from you to get her makeup done

[astrronomemes]

THINGS MY EXES SAID: STARTERS

a collection of quotes, phrases, and sayings from Things My Exes Said. change & alter as needed.

"My mother doesn't know your name. And she never will."

"Am I still allowed to say I love you?"

"Your tongue is the only good thing that comes out of your mouth."

"You always seemed like you were about to break every time I touched you."

"I've been thinking, and I don't think I love you."

"I hope you suffer. I hope you die."

"I'll probably reminisce on what we could have been for a lifetime."

"I should have looked at the stars. I should have listened to the songs. I should have loved you better."

"I burned all the poetry I made about you."

"You deserve someone better."

"The world doesn't deserve you."

"I regret not sleeping in the same bed as you that night. I regret so many things."

"I'm trying to be your friend, but you're making it really hard."

"There isn't anything inside of you that I can believe in."

"I was tripping, and I thought I loved you."

"I have no way to save you."

"If you weren't sad all the time, maybe we would have worked out."

"I think I'm gonna love you for a long time."

"I'm yours for as long as you'll want me."

"I told you that I couldn't love you."

"I'll always have feelings for you, but that doesn't mean we would ever work out."

"You're just a sad little boy."

"I thought we would get married."

"I haven't loved you for a long time."

"You're the wrong type of fucked up for me."

"I just can't do this anymore."

"Do we have to do this again?"

"I promise this is for the best. You'll be much happier this way."

"I wish you the best, but please never talk to me again."

"I won't ever unlove you, but I love you in a different way now."

"You're more fun when you're drunk, anyway."

[serqphites]

LOTTIENAT X READER HEADCANONS | how you sleep together

summary: just how i think sleeping with lottie and nat would go if you were dating them both! this is set after what happened with javi, nat is the antler queen and she’s dealing with the guilt of javis death being because he tried to save her

pairing: lottie x nat x reader

format: headcanons

warnings: mentions of death, nightmare?

lowercase intended! not proofread!

- okay so you definitely have the attic to yourselves

- lottie is always the first to be ready for bed

- she’d just be sat there like ‘🙂’ waiting for you and nat to join her

- when it was just you and lottie you’d sit with your head on her shoulder, her arm would be wrapped around you and she’d be softly humming a song to you

- you never knew what the song was, majority of the time you think she just made them up, but it was adorable so you never said anything about it

- when nat finishes up with her antler queen stuff, checking on everyone etc, she joins you both

- she would come up as quietly as possible, stopping halfway up the ladder to listen to lottie humming a completely made up tune to you

- at the sign of nat you’d both perk up and she’d get so nervous fr

- she’d blush sooooo bad

- nat sleeps on your left while lottie sleeps on your right, you obviously being sandwiched in between them

- when you just want to cuddle lottie stretches her arm out and you lean your head back on it, shuffling as close to her as possible

- nat snuggles into your side and lays her head on your chest

- she loves listening to your heartbeat it makes her feel so safe

- you usually just talk for a while before eventually going to sleep

- when you sleep nat lays on her back and you snuggle into her side this time

- lottie being the giant she is she spoons you and wraps her arm around you, just about being able to reach over to nat too

- lottie is so warm, who needs a fireplace when you have a portable radiator??

- nat almost every night has a nightmare of the day of her hunt, she can’t let go of what happened to javi because of her

- whenever she jolts awake in a panic, you and lottie immediately spring into action

- you join her in sitting up and keep a protective arm around her, reassuring her that she’s okay and that she’s safe

- lottie tries her hand on the heart method, sometimes it’s able to ground nat but majority of the time it does nothing so she gives up and just holds you both as close to her as possible

- you just sit with her and let her cry, let her sob about how unfair the hunt was, about how it should have been her

- it’s so sad :(

- once nat is settled again you swap positions with her, allowing her to sleep in between you and lottie instead

- lottie usually hums until you both fall back to sleep, always putting you both before herself

- eventually when you’ve all drifted back to sleep you all move around a lot

- lottie usually ends up out of her blanket somehow

- nat almost always ends up stretched out on top of you

- you can’t complain though considering it’s winter and she’s keeping you warm

- if you did ever get annoyed at her she would get SO defensive

- “i’m just trying to keep you warm” with an eye roll

- lottie still utterly stunned by how she never fails to wake up out of her blanket

a/n: hello!! god i love these silly lesbians, lottienat fics are lacking in this fandom and it makes me so sad! also if someone could help me, i have no idea how to set up one of those request post thingys? help would be very much appreciated 🙏🤍

[ever-4sunlight]

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏 𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎

𝑰𝒏𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒅𝒆𝒔- 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒐 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒔 (𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒓, 𝒌𝒂𝒛𝒖𝒉𝒂, 𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒙𝒊𝒂𝒐)

warnings: none || pronouns: no pronouns used

✨This is my first headcannon so it might be bad✨

𝑾𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒓

He is pretty arogant so your lucky you got him to be your boyfriend

He isn't very lovely to anyone but when he is with you he can get a little friendly

"Your ccrying? Again? God dammit your such a crybaby... Come here" he would just hug you and let you cry your pretty little eyes out

loves to talk to you but is also good at manipulating you into doing things so be careful

He is not someone who likes to be touched and also not someone who touches other often

He doesn't really know what the word love is but he feels different being with you your just something special

If he ever touches you i would say he would have his arms around your waist and his face in your neck just wanting to be as close as possible so if he allows you to touch him DO IT!>:( he wants affection right now

He is also very possessive over you that means if you want to go out he will lever let you go without him being by your side just in case something happens

He hates when you talk to others your his and no one else should get you!

Possible Sexuallity: im not sure maybe bi? Or even pan? It doesn't matter to him what gender someone is as long as he loves you

His love language is probably: quality time

𝐾𝑎𝑧𝑢ℎ𝑎

He doesn't talk much and is pretty calm one of the kindest guys definitely a green flag!

He will comfort you when your sad being with yiu while holding you in his arms just listening to all your problems

Just watch him doing stuff! He likes to see that your interested in seeing what he is doing

He didn't got hugged after the death of his friend so he can calm himself all alone if he wants to be touched just wrap his arms around him or lay your head on his shoulders he loves seeing you do that and also does that to you

He llikes to spend time with you, your his lover after all!

He will tell you how much he loves you while hugging you

Possible Sexuallity: i dont know. _. Hes confusing me

His love language is probably words: of affirmation

𝑽𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊

He is a very affectionate person he loves being with you and talking the whole day if he could he wouldn't let you have a word

He isn't sure how to comfort sad people but he tries his best! "hey... Uhh... You alright? Haha..." he would pat your shoulder laughing nervously at the situation

This man wants your attention! He will get it at all cost! He will hug you as much as possible touching your face, cuddling you or having his arms wrapped all around you so you cant escape

He will give you everything! He finds some beautiful flowers? He will give all of them to you! He sees clothes that wiuld suit you perfectly? He will get it for you! Yes hes broke but he is a bard not a rich man

Humming llullabys and songs while cuddling you stroking your hair he just wnats to be close to you

He will tell you 1000 Times a day how much he loves you

possible Sexuallity: pansexual

His language is probably: everything!

𝑿𝒊𝒂𝒐

Our favorite yaksha he isn't someone who likes being around people and talking is not something he loves, just sitting the roof of Wangshu inn holding your hand and looking at the night sky not saying a single word

If your ever sad he will hold you close and stroke your hair telling you that everything is alright and that hes here for you

He isn't someone who knows what affection is but you being on his side or leaning against him making his chest fele warm

He will giev your everything that reminds him of you if a bird reminds him of you he will gift it to you

He wont tell you how much he loves you but the way he looks at you when your staring into the sky shows clearly that your special to him he loves you more then everything after all this suffering in his life he found you

I hhe wnats affection he lays his head on your thighs of course he will ask first! He doesn't want you to be uncomfortable he loves it when your having your head against his chest knowing your safe around him

He will do anything for you! You want something to eat? He gets ut for you, your stomach hurts? Hes there to comfort you holding you as close as possible nlt letting go before your well again

possible Sexuallity: a-sexual

His love language is probably: acts of service and gifts

[arthurtristankingsmen]

Long off by near a century, a man with hair of silver, a charming smile, and a tender heart lived.

He was not young, and while sweet of sentiment and strong of character, he had no love to call his own, and no intentions of marrying. Many tried to catch those gold-hued eyes, but he never found one to call his own. The longer he lingered unwed, the more matured his body grew, aged with lines of his time passing. Though still the years were well loved by him, and by no means empty of love and kinship and camaraderie held dear.

His tale was long from over, in his fifty third year. It was long after it had begun as well, but it was the year he found his yearning beat.

A woman she was, tall and thin as hanging willow, with eyes pale blue like an early frost. Her skin was alabaster, but with the lines and sags and veins of age and a life lived. She had no laugh lines. She sang a haunting dirge, barefoot in the marshy earth near the edge of the homestead he called his. Her hair was threads of black with thin streaks of grey. Her eyes were rounded with darkened circles, and a black dress hung from her bony shoulder on one side, and slunk like drapery down her and into the waters. She switches between a haunting melody and a keening wail, and both spread for miles from powerful, mourning lungs.

He cannot say what besots him with her. Perhaps it is the melancholic temperament. Perhaps it is the way she sings, and her effort to capture some tragedy. Perhaps it is all the lines and spots of age which speak of a long life well lived, and a dozen unsaid stories he does not yet know. Perhaps it is her ethereal form as it glitters like a star in marsh-light. The first night she sings he listens in awe.

The second night, he brings her food. She does not eat but her thanks is given in the barest nod.

The third night, he brings her a flower, white as the moon on her skin. Her hair has grown and a few more silvery strands glint in ebon locks. She accepts his flower without breaking her melody, and it wilts within her hand.

The fourth, he brings his viola. He plays with her in her song. She looks at him as he does. Near the end the strings all snap, but he plays her a rhythm regardless on the wood. It makes a smile creep at the edges of her visage.

The fifth he brings her a hand-mirror of ash and silver, and a comb of mother-of-pearl. The mirror cracks when she takes it in her hands, and her reflected face is bare of skin and a sunken, splintering image in the web of shards. But she places the comb in her mostly silver hair.

She still wears it the sixth when all her hair is grey. He offers her a ring, a simple band of gold. She looks between it and him with her beautiful, sad face. Her song ends early.

“My hair is grey and my heart is withered. It is not a thing any should want.” She tells him.

He is undeterred. “Well, my hair is grey to match, and my flesh is far more wizened than yours ever could be, my dear. But my heart may beat for us both if you’re keen to share it with me.”

She seems puzzled by his answer, but allows their hands to lace together.

The seventh night the cries are short. They must be made, but most of the night is devoted to them, and to things left unsaid under moonlight.

There is no eighth night. A funeral bell takes her place, chiming for the death of the family who lives in neighborly fashion. One of them has passed, the letter of demise arriving that very day. They weep and mourn, and the woman does not show, not even that night.

He waits for her for weeks, before accepting it was not to be. Not until a year passes, and a basket with babe and letter and beautiful comb arrive on the steps of his dwelling. The letter is written with curling font.

Give her the comb when she is older. I could not part with the ring.

He knows what she must have been. A woman of the barrows, come to tide in grief before it arrives. He does not understand how a daughter came to him, but he loves her all the same. Her wailing cries do not hurt him any more than her mother’s own did, though she is much harder to please and placate. He does his best, and his tender heart beats for her and her mother and his friends who help him raise her.

Many told him he could find another love, another to mother his child. But he refused. He waited still, for his sweet faery of the mounds. For his love he was sure he was family now, and when it was time, she would come and keen in his arms, before he found himself cold and collected and buried in the barrows as well.

For thirty-three years he waits and watches their daughter grow. She has sleek hair like her mother, and blue eyes more like an open sky. She smiles with his charm and wears lock of strawberry blond like him, and her hands are calloused by viola. And still her voice carries her mother, as she grows and grows like a willow tree. He loves her, he loves her singing, her stories she weaves, the stars she tells him of in the sky. He loves her, and if there is one thing he is grateful for, it is that she loves him as well, and he sees her grow, marry, and sees her young child born.

His years are twilight, but he cherishes each precious second, just a little longer with her and her son. He swears her mother must have kept death away just a little longer, so he could stay with her still, even as he grows frail and his skin thins to paper. She tells him if that’s the case, then she is grateful too.

And then one day, there is a knock at his door. A haunting note plays and a long shadow blots its way through rippled glass. He knows by that single mourning sound who waits.

He meets her at the door despite his age, with the spark of a new man inside him. The air outside chills, and he lays his coat over her shoulders to keep the frost away from his fairest lady. Their hands twine, the ring on hers colder than even her skin, but he warms them both with the lifeblood of his racing heart. He follows her down and away, into the marsh and towards the barrows.

[xlovely-daydreamsx]

IFHY CH. 1 (Miguel O’Hara x Reader)

God, he can’t stop himself now. Not with how you peer up at him through long lashes, eyes glazed over with lust. Not with how your tongue darts out to lick your lips and he thinks about capturing them in his own, biting at them until they’re red and swollen and that adorable pout is forever plastered on your face.

He watches your fingers glide under the waistband of his suit, manicured nails scraping lightly against the skin there and he almost moans. 

How long had it been since he let another person touch him like this, or rather, at all?

Warnings: nsfw (18+), possesiveness, rough, mild blood, dirty talk, mentions of character death, you and miguel are both sad and bad at coping

Word Count: 4085

Note: This might be an ongoing series because I have So Many Thoughts. Feel free to send me asks about anything confusing, and let me know if I should continue to post this here or not... IFHY is a Tyler the Creator song, which y’all should listen to - it’s my Miguel’s anthem basically lmfao. ANYWAYS pls enjoy i appreciate u all!

When the spiders begin to infect your world, you know the only person who can keep things under control is you. At least, you’re the only one anyone would hold accountable if they decided to do something… unsavory, and if the large black hole in the middle of New York City was indicative of anything, it was that the spiders were nothing but trouble.

Peter called you first, because he always did. 

“Uhm, boss lady, there’s some other Spider-Men here, and they want me to join some secret society? I think I’m being recruited into the Illuminati…” he trails off, obviously whispering into the phone. Since your father had passed, Peter had sort of… leaned on you, in a sense. You hadn’t any recollection of meeting the boy despite his Avenger status, but he looked at you with so much melancholy in his gaze that you knew he must see something of Tony in you, and you’d allow it simply to make yourself feel better. Nobody thinks you’re anything like your dad, but on days like these, you can only wish you were.

“I’ll be right there, Pete.” You mumble back, setting his location into KAREN and heading out, thick black wings spreading behind you, launching you into the night.

The explosion comes moments after.

You see it in the sky - a clash of black and white that seems unworldly, knocking the wind from beneath your wings and sending you flying back, tumbling towards one of the hundreds of towering buildings in New York.

Crack. You hear it as you collide, feeling the dig of concrete and glass into your back - a feeling you’re all too familiar with, and yet it seems like so long ago that you had felt it last. It’s almost… exhilarating. 

You steady yourself with a foot against the building, launching yourself off of it and back towards the wreckage of whatever unfortunate event was unfolding in your city.

You watch beeps, signaling your close proximity to Peter and you begin your descent to him.

It was horrible, really, how excited you were at the idea of a fight. The last time you had been involved in something like this was with him by your side… maybe if everything went awry, you could join him soon enough.

There’s a huge fucking hole in your city, you realize as you approach.

“KAREN,” you speak into your wrist as you glide by, “send the bots out to scan and contain the area.” She replies with a conformation, but you’re too transfixed on the pit beneath you. It’s horribly, endlessly back, and you feel yourself being tugged towards it ever-so-slightly as you fly. 

You need to find Peter, and fast.

You see the other spiders before you see yours. There’s three of them, all with striking blue and red suits, drawing your eye in curiosity. They all looked so… different. You expected some evil version of Peter, red eyes and big fangs and very obviously variants of your Spider-Man, but the crowd that greets you is nothing of the sort.

You plummet down to the surface, positioning yourself in front of your spider. His suit glimmers with gold and metals- a suit your dad supposedly had made for him.

Looking at it makes you a little queasy, and you fight the urge to stare at your palms, covered in the same glittering metals.

“(Y/N)!” Peter sounds so relieved. He’s always happy to have that weight off his shoulders, free of carrying the burden all on his own. You wonder how long he’d been doing so before you recruited him into the New Avengers.

You wonder how anyone could give up control like he can.

“I guess you guys haven’t gotten the memo,” you gesture at the trio of spiders in front of you. A biker chick, a ballerina, and the biggest fucking beefcake you’ve ever seen in your life; it’s somehow not the weirdest group of friends you’ve seen in your days in the city, “but Earth-616 is closed for tourism and immigration. I don’t care what planet, galaxy, dimension y’all are from, but you need to leave.”

“Sorry, pendeja, we’re not here for you. This is obviously Spider-Man business, no?” The beefcake speaks, strolling towards you leisurely. His arms are crossed, horribly large things that strain under the fabric of his suit. You smile warmly at him, cocking your head.

“Mmh, no.” The smile drops, “I am Earth-616’s representative, not Spider-Man.”

“I work for her!” Peter points at you, nodding to the other Spider-People. You try not to cringe.

“That’s your problem, not mine. My problem,” he points behind you at the gaping hole in the city, “is that.” He’s closer to you now, absolutely looming over you, and it’s then that you realize how truly large he is. You’d always been on the smaller side of the scale, but his stature was all encompassing, his shadow engulfing you with no effort at all. 

You watch as his eyes drift down to you, then back over your head at the pit, and with a little jingle on your watch, you’re prompted to bring your eyes to it, too. Your drones had arrived, and were making quick work of scanning the hole and surrounding areas.

“Don’t worry, little buddy,” you reach up and pat his arm - oh my God, he’s rock fucking solid, “I’m already taking care of it.”

He practically growls at you, “You don’t have the technology to take care of it; we barely do, and this is our specialty.” 

“Was that supposed to sound impressive?” He grimaces, “It’s okay to admit that someone’s better than you.”

The scowl he gives you sends a shiver down your spine.

“Look, I don’t have time to argue with some… little girl, okay? That hole could destroy your universe, do you understand? Now, step back and let us do our work.” You simply watch him as he steps past you to the ledge of the building, rocketing himself off of it. He flies for a minute, rather impressively, you might add, but it isn’t long before he approaches the hole and slams into something transparent, a ripple of blue emanating from where he collided with your drones’ protective barrier.

You turn to the other spider-people, who you can tell are trying to hold back laughter.

“Now, are we open to collaboration?”

Your house is so empty. Apartment, penthouse, whatever you want to call it, it was always the same when you got back. No laughter, no steps echoing through the hall, no glasses clinking in the kitchen. It’s just you and the ghosts of the life you’ll never get back.

So, when you enter the penthouse with a visitor in tow, the sound of his footsteps following close behind you - something other than the sound of your keys jingling and your ragged breathing - it almost feels alien to the space around you. This home wasn’t meant for people anymore; this was your silent prison.

But it’s comforting in a way. It feels familiar… melancholic. 

“You’ve got this whole place to yourself?” He lets his eyes wander over the space as you lead him down the hall, past the kitchen and towards the stairs.

“Yup,” you say with a pop of the P, sounding characteristically unenthusiastic about it. What you wouldn’t give to have that be untrue.

“It’s not as fun as you’d think it would be,” you lead him down the stairs, down, down, down towards the lab. Your father’s lab, which you haven’t bothered to enter in so many months. You had let Sam and Rhodey take whatever they wanted, but you hadn’t bothered to look. There was nothing worth seeing down here, anyways.

“I know it’s not,” he replies like it’s the most casual thing in the world, like everyone knows what it’s like to be totally, truly alone like you, “the silence is… too much.”

You don’t know how to respond, so you simply type in your code, allowing the glass door to slide open for him. The room is big, much bigger than you remember but somehow suffocating all the same.

You realize after a moment that there isn’t a single suit left in the lab, and you wonder if they really needed them, or if it was some kind of kindness for you.

You elect to stop looking.

“Make yourself at home, big guy.” You say, making quick work of cleaning your desk by simply wiping it all onto the floor with a clang. You don’t know what it was going to be, nor do you care to - he wasn’t there to help you finish it, and you had more work to do than ever. “KAREN, pull up our data on the big hole, please.”

‘Our earlier scans indicate that the hole is actually a large concentration of Anti-Matter,’ her robotic voice thrums through the room, holograms of information popping up all around you, ‘our drones have managed to contain it for the time being, but it seems to be trying to expand within the barrier’s perimeters.’

“I have one of those, too,” Miguel says behind you, too close for comfort. His presence is all-encompassing, casting you in a shadow, 

“A big hole?” You cock your head, and he only shakes his head disapprovingly.

“LYLA, pull up our data to compare.”

Another voice chimes as a little woman appears in front of you, a pout on her face.

“What, I don’t get a please? KAREN got one,” her eyes drift to you, “can I work for you instead?” Miguel just sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Now, please, LYLA.” She smiles, and your blue holograms are soon accompanied by orange, merging together in a technicolor lightshow in front of you both. 

“A lot of this data actually overlaps,” LYLA says, flickering in and out of view all over the room, inspecting everything you have to offer, “but your drones missed a few key components.” She expands a few pieces, covering you in the orange light of her holos. 

It’s times like these that you wish you really were Tony Stark’s daughter- then you might have a tiny bit of his intelligence to understand what was in front of you.

You’d figure it out eventually, though - you always do.

You can’t help but notice how much he looks at you. Your work had been rather silent so far, only small comments made when absolutely necessary on his part, but his eyes say more to you than anything else. Deep, dark circles that match your own, watching every move you make. Every bend, stretch, turn - his eyes are on you, tracing your delicate form.

You were well aware of the effect you have on men. Since you were young, much too young, you had known - you were the cover of Playboy at 16, Vogue and Cosmo in the following years, now too many to count. Teenage heartthrob (Y/N) Stark, just as wild and untamed as her father had been. At least, that’s always what they had said. You never tried to seduce anyone, but who wouldn’t want to be on their knees for a Stark?

Miguel, apparently, because every time you would catch his gaze he would avert it, avoiding your attention like the plague. He’s like a wild animal, cornered, threatened, by you. By your mere presence.

To be completely honest, it bothered you. Everyone wanted you, would try to take a bite whenever opportunity arose, so what was so special about him? Why wouldn’t he try? 

If you know anything, it’s that men love the chase.

And yet he won’t chase you at all.

It’s… irritating, you decide, but a good challenge nonetheless.

“You know,” you say, breaking the silence. You find yourself approaching his workspace, feet moving without any real thought behind it.

“You look lonely,” your hand trails against the desk and he watches as it glides across the sleek metal, his shoulders tense but unmoving, “We could keep each other company.”

You’re in front of him now, his knees slightly spread as he sits, and you knock them with your own to make room for yourself, sinking in between the space he makes for you.

“(Y/N),” he practically growls, and you know he wants it just as much as you do. You know he doesn’t think he deserves it. You know it’s an act of self punishment, so you ignore it. 

Your hand glides across the fabric of the suit straining against his thick, muscled thighs. You trail higher, higher up to the V of his hips and he releases a shuddering breath. Fingers searching until they find the button they’re looking for, allowing the lower half of his suit to release.

“Do you want me to?”

“Do you want me, too?” She asks him, her touch featherlight on his skin. She sets him ablaze, sending shivers wracking his body and a growing heat in his groin that he hasn’t felt in so long, save for lonely nights in his quarters, fisting himself shamefully in the shower and washing the evidence of his crimes down the drain. He needs it more than he’s willing to admit, and the way your voice echoes in his ears, soft and sweet and innocent. He can’t bring himself to tell you no, even though he knows you’d never ask him such a thing if you really knew him. But you want him, and it’s been so long since someone has wanted him, so he simply threads his fingers through your hair. 

God, he can’t stop himself now. Not with how you peer up at him through long lashes, eyes glazed over with lust. Not with how your tongue darts out to lick your lips and he thinks about capturing them in his own, biting at them until they’re red and swollen and that adorable pout is forever plastered on your face.

He watches your fingers glide under the waistband of his suit, manicured nails scraping lightly against the skin there and he almost moans. 

How long had it been since he let another person touch him like this, or rather, at all?

You pull the waistband down, down until his cock springs out of its place under the fabric, the head already pink and dripping.

Jesus, he looks so large compared to you. Your hands barely fit around it, the length of it seemingly almost as big as your head. You were so small, though - everything about you was small, and yet you acted so much larger than life that he had forgotten how fragile you appeared to be. He can’t forget it now, though - not with the comparison right in front of him; not with the way you were on your knees for him.

You place small kisses against his length, moving ever higher and leaving a trail of spit behind that left him aching. You sent him a coy smile before you licked against his tip, precum smearing on your lips like gloss. You take the head in easily, tongue swirling across the slit in a way that makes his hips buck up, but you keep your composure, a small hand against his pelvis to push him back down.

He reaches for it, taking your wrist in his hand, which completely engulfs you.

“Muñeca,” he lets out a shaky sigh, “I know you can take it.” No more words are needed - he knows you understand with the way you gaze up at him, your jaw going slack and your tongue laying flat underneath his cock. He tightens the hand in your hair and pushes you down, thrusting deep into your throat. He keeps pushing, fucking into you like a fleshlight, feeling the warm wetness of it with every motion. He wanted to mould you to the shape of his cock, have you still feel the ghost of him every time you swallow, missing the feeling of choking on him.

You gag around him but stay lax, pliant - obedient. Those eyes, God, glossy and tearful, but wanting. You want this, him, you want him, you want him-

He pushes your head down to his pubes, holding you there as your throat constricts around him and he cums deep, an iron grip keeping you in place as he empties into you.

With a rough shove, you’re off his cock and you stumble backwards off your knees, catching yourself on your hand as you cough. He barely gives you a second before an impossibly large hand grabs your face, fingers pushing roughly into your jaw.

“Show me,” he commands, and you oblige without complaint, mouth open and tongue out with an aah.

“Mi niña buena, no? So hungry for my cum.” He says, and you have the audacity to smile, nodding with your eyes shut lazily, nuzzling slightly into his grip.

He can’t control himself a second longer.

He grabs you harshly by the arm, pulling you upwards into his lap and straight into a kiss. He can’t help but growl into it, too much teeth on his end but he needs to feel in control, like he can capture you with every swipe of his tongue into your mouth and every nip against your bottom lip.

He thinks he tastes blood.

His hands find your thighs and he lifts you up, claws digging into your soft, supple skin as he drops you on the desk, pushing you with a harsh hand against your chest. Your back hits the table, cold metal against the part of your skin unveiled by your shirt riding up high on your back.

Miguel doesn’t have time to undress you, no time for tenderness or patience. Instead, he rips at your shorts, his animalistic claws tearing through the fabric of both them and your undergarments, leaving you bare below the waist and he takes it all in eagerly, eyes scanning every part of your body. He pushes your shirt upward, exposing your breasts kept carefully under a plain, black bra. One swipe of a claw and that falls away, too, leaving you completely exposed.

You don’t even look embarrassed.

Miguel is the one falling to his knees now, coming face to face with your bare pussy like a man praying at the altar, and it’s with closed eyes and shaking palms that he buries himself into it, tongue lapping incessantly at your folds.

He eats like a starving man, tongue flicking against your clit over and over until your back is arching inches above table, white knuckling the edges of it as abuses your sensitive cunt. 

The lust coursing through him threatens to tear him apart, so he braces himself with hands on your thighs, claws digging into the skin and leaving you with a hot pain to accompany the unending pleasure he’s giving you.

He sucks against your clit and your hand instinctively reaches for him, threading into his black locks and rutting against his tongue as you cum hard, harder than you ever have by yourself, alone in that room with your multitude of toys. Despite the many men you had been with, nothing could have prepared you for the beast that sits between your legs, eyes dark with a hunger that threatens to swallow you whole.

“Miguel, please,” You don’t even know what you’re begging for - more, mercy, you aren’t sure, but his figure is looming over you in seconds, his cock already hard once again as he rubs the tip against your sopping wet entrance, slick sounds echoing in the room along with your pants.

“Gonna fill you up with my cock, chiquita. Fill you up and stretch you out. Fuck,” he bares his fangs and you moan, “you want it, baby? Tell me you want it.” He grabs you by the jaw again, fingers gliding across your blood stained lips. “Ask your papi real sweet like.”

You can tell he wants it just as much as you do, feeling the heat from his cock against you, his precum adding to the slick of your cunt, but you want to beg him, want to obey, so you oblige.

“Please, please, fuck, I want you inside me. Break me, Miguel, please.”

Break you - fuck, he could do that. Every part of his body threatened to; his sharp claws against your soft skin, strong grip and large hands on your delicate wrists, his towering frame over your own, much smaller one. He was Godzilla and you were fucking Tokyo. 

His dick pushed into you entirely ungentle, his bestial tendencies apparent in everything he does. Your thighs are covered in scratches, some smeared with small lines of blood, and the constant mix of pain and pleasure makes your head spin.

He stretches you out thoroughly, his massive girth shoved into you inch by inch until he’s hilt-deep inside of you and you swear you can feel him in your womb.

He doesn’t waste any time, pumping in and out of you at a bruising pace, pulling you down to the hilt with every movement. You can barely think, head spinning, filled only with thoughts of the strong figure fucking into you like a dog in heat.

He’s so, so much bigger than anything else you’d ever had, and the way he stretches you open leaves your stomach in knots.

He’s in love with your pussy. The taste of you is like honey, your warmth engulfs his cock in a pleasure like no other- it’s like you were made for him.

He leans down and captures you into another kiss, broken up by your incessant moans with every thrust of him into your cervix. It’s all too much and not enough at the same time, and when he pulls out of the kiss and opts to leave trails of them along your neck, teeth nipping and gnashing at the skin they find there. Every part of this man threatens to consume you, and yet you give yourself up readily, wrapping your arms around his neck and digging your nails into his back as you moan. 

He growls against your shoulder and you feel sharp teeth pierce into you, deep searing pain that rips a cry out of your mouth as your orgasm crashes over you. He fucks your through it, hard thrust after thrust until you feel him twitching inside you and he buries himself balls deep, cock pulsing as he fills you with cum.

Neither of you can bother to care about the implications.

He can’t help but stare down at you as you lay there, chest heaving and eyes half-lidded. You looked fucked, and it took everything in him to stop himself from fucking you again. Maybe he went too rough, he thinks as he stares at the bleeding bite on your shoulder and scratches littering your body, but when he pulls out and your pussy is gushing with your cum and his own, he can’t bring himself to regret it in the slightest.

“You took it so well, (Y/N).” The sound of your name on his tongue pulls you out of your stupor and you can only respond with a groan, your hand rubbing against your eyes.

You needed a shower and a nap.

You push yourself up onto your elbows and watch as he secures his suit back in place, the traces of your deeds only apparent on your soiled figure.

He presses a few buttons on his watch, and in a moment, a small, metal spider crawls out of it, making you furrow your brow as you watch him fiddle with it. Holding it by the leg, he holds it out to you, and you hold your palm up warily. It drops into your palm, skittering before settling itself in your grasp.

“All the data you need is compiled on that little guy. Try to take care of it, okay?” You nod, much too tired to speak.

Miguel’s eyes flit over you one last time, and the way his brow furrows leaves you wondering what exactly he’s thinking in that gorgeous head of his.

He takes one impossibly large step toward you, hand reaching for your face and it takes all your willpower not to flinch away from him. His grasp is gentle this time, thumb tracing against the soft curve of your jaw as he places a small, delicate kiss against your forehead.

“Take care, chiquita.” 

And with that, he takes his leave, the light of his portal dimming as he exits, leaving you alone.

[piercedddriver]

Ok With It

This is a little angsty fic with the Obey Me brothers inspired by the song OK With It by Lyn Lapid

T/W: mentions of suicidal implications, Leviathan being autistic and stimming, self-starving, guilt, sexual implications in Lucifer and Asmo’s parts. Gender neutral reader (No pronouns used), PTSD, trauma response, angst

We live in other dimensions

We both saw it coming

——

Beel rolled over for the umpteenth time that night as he thought about you. Where were you? Where did you go? Did you miss him? Did you miss any of them? He sighed and rolled over again, his eyes meeting Belphegor’s.

“You okay Beel?”

Beel shook his head and hugged the plushie you had given him after a Fangol game. Belphie gave him a sad look before trudging over to his own bed.

Beel knew one day you would disappear from his life, but not now.

Not like this.

We used to sleep on our mobiles

Now we’re barely calling

——

Checking his DDD for the hundredth time he sighed, seeing no signs of hearing from you. Leaving the dining table, the brothers looked at Beel with concern. He hadn’t been eating lately and had lost a lot of weight.

Asmodeus followed him to the gym where Beel put in his headphones and listened to voicemails you had left over time. Running on the treadmill with tears streaming down his cheeks. He never had the heart to delete your messages and now he was glad didn’t. Beel watched Asmo leave from the corner of his eye, but couldn’t bring himself to care. Why should he anyways? Every time he cares about someone they leave.

First Lillith now you…

Beel shook the thoughts away and replaced them with memories of watching you fall asleep over FaceTime, ignoring the pain in his chest.

I haven’t been worried about where you’ve been

Who you’ve been talking with

——

Levi was even more shut-in than before, completely blocking out the world along with his brothers.

At first he stressed everyday over where you could’ve gone. He worried and cried until he physically became sick. It wasn’t until he woke up from a feverish haze he realized you were likely never coming back. After that, he worried less, and grieved more.

His Henry, the only one who really understood him, gone, without a single trace.

Levi stopped caring who he associated with and began to shut down. He locked himself in his room and hasn’t left since.

Lucifer, ever so diligent about the wellbeing of his brothers, would leave meals outside Levi’s door. His heart warming when he saw a clean plate the next day, but shattering when he saw the days it wasn’t moved or paid any mind to.

We’re growing dissonant

Finish line’s imminent and

Inevitably, you’ll surely forget me

——

Levi’s DDD had over a hundred missed messages from his brothers. Hell, even Diavolo tried reaching out to him, but nothing worked. Levi was spiraling. The one he could rant to, stim to, and generally just talk to was now gone. He was growing tired of the grief, tired of the pain, tired of the uncertainty.

Levi stared at the “you died” screen on his computer not even registering he died until his teammates were yelling at him through his headset. He turned off the chat and stared at the screen. Suddenly, death didn’t seem so bad anymore.. after all, surely you’d have forgotten a worthless otaku like him by now, right..?

It’s the end and I’m okay with it

Seasons shift

They’re always changing and

——

Lucifer stared at the paperwork on his desk not registering Diavolo’s voice.

“Don’t you think so Lucifer?”

What? Did he miss something?

“You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”

Lucifer shook his head and laughed, almost humored at the situation. He finally grew to know you, to respect you, to love you. But you were gone now. When was the last time he allowed himself to be vulnerable like that? Was it.. Lillith? Maybe.. Simeon? No.. it was him it was always him. He thought looking up at the redhead at the other side of his office. Maybe.. it was time for Lucifer to let go of you. Perhaps, the feeling he felt were never meant to be after all..

We’ll be sad

Through the summer

Start again with different lovers

——

The first summer without you was hard on Lucifer. No midnight rooftop visits, no early morning coffee runs before walking through the parks. He found himself grieving more than he ever had before. Even falling from grace hadn’t affected him this badly. How many nights had he cried himself to sleep away from the prying eyes of his brothers? How many nights had he vomited at the thought of you happy with someone else? How many nights did he go to that one person for comfort.

Lucifer looked over on his bed, your side now occupied with the Devildom’s young prince.

How many nights had he tried to take the pain away through someone else? No. That was enough. It was time to move on from you for good.

Lucifer stood from his position on his side of the bed and walked over to the sleeping prince, shaking him awake gently.

“Diavolo, you need to leave before my brothers wake. They can’t know about us just yet..”

Know the thought can be menacing

Waking up when you’re not next to me

——

Mammon groaned as he stretched on his too-large bed. He had upsized it to accommodate the both of you, but now that you were gone it felt painfully empty. He rubbed his eyes trying to ignore the deep bags under them. When had he last slept well? Days? Weeks? Hell if he knew..

Nightmares plagued Mammon every night since you disappeared.

He was your first man, he was supposed to protect you, and yet, he couldn’t even save you from this unknown fate you had suffered.

Mammon looked over to the empty side of the bed and felt chills run down his spine at the thought of you being in bed with someone else. He shook it off and got up to start his day.

It’s for the best

We’ve been cavin’

It’s the end and I’m okay with it

And I’m okay with it

——

Mammon paused when he saw one of your doodles in his Devildom History notebook. He quickly tore the page out and crumpled it throwing it away. He couldn’t think of you now, not after how far he’d come with accepting your disappearance. You being gone was for the best. At least, he tried to tell himself that. He tried to ignore his already terrible grades worsening, he tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach whenever your name was mentioned, he tried. Really, he did. So why was it so hard?

It’s not like it matters anymore. Nobody knew where you were, and nobody cared when they saw Mammon digging through the trash looking for a certain discarded doodle.

We could be living like one day

We’ll be reunited

And promise that we’ll stay in touch

But we know we’d be lyin’

——

Satan’s wrath was unchecked, nobody dared to even come within 100 feet of him. So what if he went through millennium of anger management? It’s not like it mattered anymore. He checked his DDD everyday hoping for a sign of reconnection, only to have his efforts met with nothing. He called, texted, emailed, but to no avail. You were gone.

He was angry.

No, he was hurt.

Your promised him. You promised him you’d always be in tough no matter what happened. But you broke your promise.. and all he had left was a mere picture on his dresser.

Why be at odds with our sanity

By arguing with reality?

——

Satan was losing himself. Every day he regressed further away from who he had been and progressed towards who he was when he first was created. He was slowly going crazy.. just where where you? You were gone. He knew that, he really did. Yet, somehow he couldn’t help but sit in your room every night, holding the book you two were reading and waiting for you to come home and continue the story with him.

It’s the end and I’m okay with it

Seasons shift

They’re always changing and

——

Asmo didn’t sulk.

Asmo didn’t cry.

Asmo didn’t show any signs of grief. Anyone who didn’t know him would say you meant nothing to him.. only those close to him saw the impact you left. “Those” mainly being Solomon. Solomon saw it, he felt it, he’ll, he even heard it. But through everything, he said nothing. He couldn’t. He couldn’t risk changing the future, not even for Asmodeus.

We’ll be sad

Through the summer

Start again with different lovers

——

It was hard to notice Asmo’s slight changes. In fact, Lucifer was the only to notice for a long time. Lucifer was the only to notice the small eye bags, the lessened amount of makeup, the chipped nail polish. It was Lucifer who heard Asmo crying himself to sleep at night, and Lucifer who comforted his younger brother when things got too painful to handle alone. Thus, Asmodeus followed his brother’s example. He let his sin get ahold of him and began spending nights with strangers to chase away the ache in his heart.

Know the thought can be menacing

Waking up when you’re not next to me

——

Belphie yawned and sat up after a long nap. His stomach cramped and he winced. When had he last eaten? It didn’t matter..

He looked over at him twin who was sleeping with tears staining his cheeks and ginger hair matted to his head. Belphie smiled, knowing this is the first night of sleep Beel had gotten in weeks, but internally sobbed at the loss of you not being there to fall asleep with them. He hated humans. Hated them.

He told himself that for millennia, but then you came along.. And, oh.. Oh how he loved you. At first he told himself that if he trusted humans he would be betraying Lillith, and Lillith was very dear to him. But dearer than you..?

No.. not even close.

It’s for the best

We’ve been cavin’

It’s the end and I’m okay with it

And I’m okay with it

——

Months went by and Belphie convinced himself he was fine.

Sleepless nights weren’t caused by you.. of course not. His pillow wasn’t cold enough, that’s all. The nightmares..? Trauma response from Lucifer. It was all Lucifer’s fault. Lucifer should’ve protected you. Lucifer failed you, not him.

Not him.

Then again… he killed you before. Right? What if he did it again? What if… this was for the best? He couldn’t hurt you anymore. No one could.

Belphie told himself this every night, and yet, he still wished you were there with him.

@l3viat8an @obeymeluv @obeymeimaginesandasks @asmosmainhoe

[kotias]

Writers Guild Cock Fight - Do I wanna know?

This is a retaliation piece against @lauramoon1987 ! You have been warned, Laura!! 🫵🫵🫵🫵

For the smut war going on on @goodomensafterdark !

Song to listen to while reading: Do I Wanna Know? By Arctic Monkeys

Tumblr excerpt word count: 721

Total word count: 1 957

Trigger warnings: consumption of alcohol

Type of smut: angsty post-season 2

Have you got colour in your cheeks?

Do you ever get that fear that you can't shift the tide

That sticks around like something in your teeth?

Are there some aces up your sleeve?

Have you no idea that you're in deep?

I've dreamt about you nearly every night this week

How many secrets can you keep?

'Cause there's this tune I found

That makes me think of you somehow an' I play it on repeat

Until I fall asleep, spilling drinks on my settee

Alcohol. That’s what he was missing. He extracted himself from his chair and walked to his kitchen, where an infinite variety of beautiful liquors, wines, beers, distilled alcohols were displayed. He did not even bother taking a glass out of the pantry and drank directly from the whisky bottle.

It took him about an hour to down the entire bottle, scorching the inside of his throat.

Not enough.

He raided his kitchen again, and found his bottle of absinthe. That should do the trick…

The taste of it on his lips was already enough to feel submerged with a fire that very much agreed with his demon body, and he filled a glass to the rim with it before storing it away. He took a large gulp out, shivered from it overwhelming his senses and coughed out the discomfort.

(Do I wanna know?) If this feeling flows both ways?

(Sad to see you go) Was sorta hoping that you'd stay

(Baby, we both know) That the nights were mainly made

For saying things that you can't say tomorrow day

He did not allow himself to think about the last memories he had collected before going to sleep, refused to let his mind wonder to the feeling of those soft, plump lips on his ow-

He finished his glass and threw it at a wall.

“Damn it!”

He did not want to think about it, it was too painful! Too fresh! Too- too- “FUCK!”

Those hands on his back, clutching at his vest like he was on a lifeline, the little gasp he let out, the conflict and storm of emotions in his eyes-

“FUCKING STOP IT!” he yelled, crashing into his couch. His mind was replaying it, again and again, never stopping, looping that memory until he was dizzy with it.

Soft lips, desperate gesture, clutching his lapel, hands on his back, gasp-

I forgive you.

“Oh, fuck you,” he grumbled at the universe at large after the second bottle of whisky had been downed, and let his body lie down.

Crawling back to you

The angel’s hand, clutching to his back for just a moment, the tip of his tongue pressing against his mouth, his wheezes as he touched him… the softness of his skin, the smell of old books surrounding him, the taste of sweet black tea in his breath-

Ever thought of calling when

You've had a few?

'Cause I always do

Maybe I'm too

Busy being yours

To fall for somebody new

Now, I've thought it through

“Actually, that ain’t that bad of an idea, is it?” Crowley mumbled with a weak crooked smile, his voice breaking in his throat. “I’ll give you something to forgive me over, Ô Supreme Archangel Aziraphale.” He put the bottle down on the lower table and reached down his stomach, grazing the fabric with his long nails. “You’d better hear my voice as I pray up to you.”

He closed his eyes and sighed as his cold fingers passed under his shirt and touched the line of crimson hairs coming up from his crotch.

Click. His snake belt fell open, the buttons of his slim jeans quickly followed. His left hand raised to his chest, pressed against it, forcing the air out of him in a soft growl. The tips of his fingers slithered under his collar, sending waves of scalding desire through his limbs.

Crawling back to you

The angel’s tongue pushing into his own, pulling him closer, hungry, hungry, so ravenous for him-

He moaned into the hollow of his mouth, his legs weakening under his love. Aziraphale’s lips, descending on his chin, on his throat, ripping his shirt open, and oh how mellow his voice was, rippling against his collarbone, penetrating his chest and pulling at his heart like it belonged to him.

Fic continuation on AO3

[misc-obeyme]

THE THREADS THAT BIND

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

MASTERPOST for summary/info/chapter list

a/n: This is it, the last chapter. :') There will be a spicy epilogue posted sometime next week, but this is the end of the story right here. I had so much fun writing this story. I'm already thinking about writing another multi chapter fic, probably one about Arsenios. Might also be writing a song for him... but you didn't read that here. Anyway, I love Barbatos with my entire being and I'm sure I'll be writing about him again soon lol! I'm always happy to hear any ideas for future stories or to answer any questions about this one! Thank you to everyone who has been reading the chapters and leaving such amazing feedback. I love you all!

GN!MC x Barbatos | word count 1,187

Warnings: none, this is a fluff chapter lol

When you awoke the next day, you found yourself back in the guest room bed. You tried not to think about how it was likely Barbatos himself who had moved you. The thread was gone, just as he had said it would be.

Breakfast was a somber affair. Diavolo was trying to act cheerful, but he could tell that his little ploy with the potion had only made things worse. You hadn't been able to cover up the puffiness of your face and you knew you weren't succeeding at masking your general mood of sadness.

Once again, Barbatos was absent.

"Will you return to the House of Lamentation right after breakfast?" Diavolo asked as the Little Ds cleared your plates away.

You frowned. You weren't quite ready to put yourself back into the boisterous antics of the seven brothers. "I… think I'd like to sit in the garden here for a little bit first, if that's okay?"

"Of course," Diavolo said.

And that was where you found yourself shortly after. You were sitting in the gazebo of the garden, watching the falling stars and thinking about the thread that the potion had revealed.

You weren't entirely sure what you were going to do now. Your truth had been revealed for you, but you were sure that Barbatos had already known how you felt.

Even so, you remembered what Arsenios had said to you at RAD. That Barbatos should be able to make the choice himself. And you still hadn't given him that, had you?

As though he could read your thoughts, Barbatos came into the gazebo and sat beside you.

"MC, I must request that you allow me to speak with you," he said.

You laughed sadly and quietly. "You don't have to ask. I know I owe it to you to listen, especially after everything I said."

You couldn't look over at him, but you saw his body in your periphery. It surprised you to see that he was in demon form. As though he needed that extra strength to speak with you.

"This is the potion that the Young Master put into your drink," Barbatos said, holding up a bottle for you to see. It was a bright yellow potion, swirling and sparkling in the clear bottle. "The way it reveals itself is always different, but I must say I was not surprised it took the form of a thread in this instance."

Barbatos rose to stand before you. He took the lid off the bottle and drank down the potion.

You gasped, standing up yourself, reaching your hands out, but not quite touching him. "Barbatos, what are you doing?"

Barbatos smiled at you. "You needn't be so concerned, MC. As I told you before, this potion is harmless. But it will always reveal the truth, as it did for you."

As he said this, the thread that had connected the two of you the night before reappeared. It looked exactly the same as it had then - glowing with a teal light, a single string that began in your chest and ended in his.

"I was afraid that if I simply told you the truth, that you might not believe me," Barbatos said. "Now you can see it with your own eyes as well. What you must understand is that although I have seen things from the future, I cannot and I will not live my life based on them. I don't know if that person you saw was you or not, but it doesn't matter either way. I will not allow that person's potential existence to interfere with how I act here and now. Not when my love for you is so strong."

Your heart was racing. The look of determination on his face, the slight hint of uncertainty, the fullness of his hope, it was all there for you to see. He wasn't holding back any of his feelings. He was being fully transparent.

"What if… what if they do show up…?" you asked, your words hesitant.

"Not every future vision I have is meant to be," Barbatos said. "I will not suppress my love for you in order to be free for someone I likely have not even met."

Your eyes followed the thread from your heart to where it ended in his. You reached out your fingers to touch it, even though you knew they would simply pass through it. You looked up at Barbatos's face, still hopeful, still waiting.

You let your hand reach through the thread toward him.

He responded by taking your hand and pulling you into him, wrapping his other arm around your waist. You felt his tail curl around your leg.

"MC," he said, his lips inches from yours.

You didn't wait for whatever he may have said next, you simply kissed him, letting your arms wrap around him, clinging to the fabric of his shirt, your lips desperate as you pressed yourself into him.

Barbatos kissed you back fervently, his hand cradling the back of your head as the kiss deepened.

Eventually you had to pull away for air and as you gasped lightly, you looked again into Barbatos's eyes. The teal of the thread that still stretched between you was reflected in them, reminding you of the teal time streams that you had stumbled through during so many nights.

Barbatos reached up between you, his arm passing through the thread like it wasn't there. He held your chin with his fingers, keeping your gaze on him.

"MC," he said. "I have been alive for a long time and I have experienced many things. And yet I have never loved anyone in the same way that I love you."

A pleasant warmth and comfort spread through your limbs, radiating out from the spot in your chest where the thread was still holding on. Here was this demon, a master of time, a being of mystery, telling you that he had never known a love like yours.

You smiled softly. "All I want is to love you for the rest of my short human life."

Barbatos chuckled. "I would be very happy if you would stay by my side."

You didn't say anything else to this, just kissed him again.

Due to the amount of potion Barbatos had consumed, the thread that bound you took all weekend to fade. You were happy to stay at the castle for that duration, even though it wasn't required. Those first days with Barbatos would remain some of your favorite memories.

You found yourself settling into a new pattern. Living at the House of Lamentation, attending RAD, but spending a significant amount of nights at the castle. The brothers found this arrangement annoying, but they could also see how happy you were, so they didn't comment on it.

Every time you awoke in the night, you found yourself checking for magical threads. They were never there, but you didn't really need them to be anymore. Even if you never saw one again, you could feel the way your heart was forever tied to the heart of the demon you loved.

masterpost | chapter one

chapter twelve | epilogue

masterlist | Thank you for reading!