#in the reality of their situation means makes it worse

[hmhas-00]

Ch. 41

Hit Me Hard & Soft

A/N- y’all I can’t believe this series is ALMOST coming to an end… any predictions?👀

Billie’s POV

“Billie!” She calls out, underneath me. Her face shows concern as she grabs onto my ankle.

Suddenly, it begins to lightly sprinkle, and the once clear, blue sky turns a muggy gray.

“Maybe we should go back down.” I say, looking down at her, visibly annoyed by the situation.

“No, it’s just a little sprinkle. Let’s keep going!” She shouts, thinking it’s what I want to hear.

She thinks I want to keep going, because I’m the one that insisted in going rock climbing in the first place. In reality, I want to lock ourselves into our hotel room and shield her from everything, including TMZ. Shield her from the world saying she’s not good enough for me, or maybe even the other way around.

I stop to wipe the water droplets off my forehead. I can’t tell it’s from rain or from sweat, but I dry one hand at a time on my shorts, to keep me from slipping.

“You okay?” She makes her way up, standing right next to me, as close as she can on an outdoor rock climbing wall, of course.

“Yeah, I’m fine. They’re just so annoying.” I gesture toward the cameras.

“Hi Billie!” They shout, realizing I notice them.

They continue to shout out at us, as if we’d stop everything to have a conversation with them.

“Is that your girl, Billie?”

“What’s your new girlfriend’s name?”

“Kiss!”

“Look over here, Billie!”

“Billie! Billie! Billie!”

She looks at me, slight shock on her face. “Oh, wow.”

A small laugh escapes her lips, making me feel like she’s about to shoot me in the chest. With the painful feeling of rejection already crawling under my skin, I scrunch my nose and look away.

I feel sick.

Remy keeps her eyes on me, but I’m too afraid to see her genuine reaction.

I scoff, cringing and contorting my face as if the thought of kissing Remy here, so high up that we can see the ocean, actually nauseates me.

As if.

I keep climbing but she stays where she is for a minute.

“Come on. Before the rain gets worse.” I look down, waiting for her to come up.

“Just ignore them. At least they’re not being vultures like back home.” She is next to me again, not knowing I don’t want her near me. We are more than halfway up the wall now.

“I just don’t want them making shit up.” I concentrate on getting to the top. I sigh, aggravated at the situation.

“They’re gonna say whatever they want anyway.” She says, he voice calm as she keeps up with me.

“Yeah, but it’s all bullshit. They could’ve said anything at all, but they pick the dumbest fucking-“

“Oh my God, Jesus, Billie! Is it really that repulsive to you?”

“What?” I stop.

“The thought of you being with me?” She looks me in the eyes briefly, before passing me up the wall.

I blink, “N-No— I mean—“ I pick up the speed, gripping onto the wall as hard as I can. My shoes making squeaky noises as I step on each ridge.

She gives an uncertain laugh, “You said it enough times it’s like— Thanks bro.”

“I don’t meant it like th—“

“Dude. You won’t stop saying how stupid—”

“Remy, wait up.” The moment I look away to get better footing, she screams.

I look up to her foot slipping on wet rock, her body dropping at least 50 feet before the rope attendant pulled on his end to save her from hitting the ground. The sound of her scream sent my heart through my esophagus, and into my mouth. It was so loud it left my ears ringing.

I make my descent as fast I can, dropping to the ground, where she sits, doubled over, grabbing at her knee.

“Oh my fucking God, are you okay!?” I quickly get the attendant to unhook me, kneeling beside her.

“Yeah.” She winces, “I stepped on it wrong. My shoe slipped, and I hit my knee on it with all my weight.”

“You slammed the wall pretty hard when you were swinging too! Can we call paramedics for you?“ The attendant pulls out his phone, standing over us.

“No, no. I’m okay.” Remy winces in pain, still covering her knee.

“Let me see.” I take her hands away, uncovering her knee. It’s all gashed and bloodied, dribbling down her shin. There’s dirt and tiny pebbles of gravel inside the deeply cut tissue. “Ooh, shit, Rem. Maybe we should see paramedics.”

The attendant begins to dial on his phone, but Remy is persistent. “No, no, no! I’m- I’m fine. I just need to wash off, that’s all.” She nods.

“Help me up.” She reaches her hand up as I stand, wrapping an arm around my neck for support.

“Can you even stand?” I hold her up.

“Yeah, yeah. It just hurts to bend my knee.” She groans as we hop over to the bathroom, where I can help her clean out her knee.

“It’s bleeding a lot, Rem, I think we should get you seen by a—“

“Noo, just help me clean it up!” She whined. She hates doctors. She will avoid it at all costs. Partly because she hates needles, but mostly because of how expensive it is.

We enter a restroom inside a shack, near the entrance. She hops over to the sink, lifting her leg over the counter.

“Here. Let me—“ I lift her up by her waist, sitting her on the sink counter. I stand between her legs, examining the damage done.

“Ouch.” She groans, wincing at the pain and glancing at me. I’d usually be queasy at the sight of such blood, but since it’s Remy’s, I convince myself to toughen up.

“It’s not too bad…” I lie, hoping to make her feel better. I pull her leg gently over the sink, the faucet hovering above her knee.

I turn on the faucet a bit, the gentle stream running over her wound. The water begins to flush out the blood, red flooding the sink beneath her leg.

“I can’t look.” She turns her head, biting on her wrist.

“It doesn’t look too deep.” I say, shutting off the water and softening my voice. “Just gotta get all this dirt out.”

I wash my own hands in the sink beside her, then lather up with lots of antibacterial soap, very delicately brushing some on her gashed up knee. “This might hurt a bit.”

She nods. I can feel her muscles tensing up, “Just hurry.” She says, through gritted teeth.

“I know, I know.”

I turn the faucet back on, letting it wash away all the impurities, picking out a few tiny pieces of gravel and dirt.

“Here is some hydrogen peroxide. I have bandages too, and gauze.” The manager who greeted us walks in.

“Thank you so much.” I accept the first aid kit.

“We’re so sorry about that. Our staff should’ve recommended you come down as soon as the rain began.” She apologizes over and over.

“No, no, it was our fault. Way too locked in.” I joke, shaking my head.

Remy laughs a bit, smiling at the lovely woman, sweetly.

She walks away, and I turn my attention back to my patient. I unscrew the cap on the peroxide bottle as she hastily puts her hand over mine.

“It isn’t going to sting, is it?” Her eyes worried, her brows furrowed.

“No, I promise it won’t. The worst part is over.” I assure her, knowing me digging out chunks of rock from her gash was probably more painful than this liquid will ever be.

She nods, letting me go.

I begin to lightly pour peroxide over her knee, letting it drip down her cut.

“Do you really think that?” She asks, her voice low.

“Think what?” I say, concentrating on pouring until the bleeding fully stops.

“—That… the world thinking you’re dating me is the worst thing ever.” She scoffs a bit toward the end of her sentence. I can feel her staring at me, but all I can focus on is the fizzy water, bubbling up in her knee.

“No, Rem. I didn’t mean it like that.” I screw on the cap, placing the bottle aside. I very softly pat the wound dry with a square piece of gauze pad.

“It just sounded like it.” She says, her eyes following me. “When there’s any other rumor about you, you make jokes, you laugh at it… You know how to laugh at yourself.”

I take a look inside the first aid kit, fidgeting with the materials in front of me.

“I just hate when they make up rumors. Besides, I don’t want you to be affected by them either.” I lie.

I pick out a roll of gauze, peeling back the first layer and tossing it in the trash, just in case. Using the newer, more sterile layer, I begin to wrap it around her knee, completely taking the gauze behind her knee, and back over the wound a few times.

“Sounds like you were more affected by them than I was.” She shrugs.

I shake my head, “It’s just everywhere we go, no matter what—“ I continue wrapping the gauze around her knee.

“I know.” She cuts me off. “It sucks. But it’s just a rumor, right? They’re just lies.”

“Yeah.”

“I think that’s enough wrap arounds, huh?” She laughs a bit, her breathy laugh giving me chills.

“Right.” I stop, fastening the gauze. “Good as new.” I smile at her.

She bends her knee slowly, dangling it off the counter, wincing at the pain. The thought of her gash opening and closing gives me chills.

“Careful, you don’t want it to start bleeding again.” I help her off the counter, lifting her waist as she wraps her arms around me, and placing her on the floor.

She supports herself with an arm around my neck. “We’ll walk slow, okay? ‘Get you back in the hotel.”

She nods.

We start to walk towards the restroom door, but she stops. “Wait.”

“What’s wrong?” I look at her knee, imagining blood oozing down her knee again. There isn’t.

“The paparazzi, they’ll see us like this. I don’t want it to bother you if—“

“Fuck ‘em. Let them talk.” I shrug. I watch as she crinkles her nose, smiling at me.

We begin to walk towards the door again, but stop again.

“Wait!” She gasps.

“What!” I look back down at her knee, seeing the perfectly white gauze still wrapped tightly around her knee.

“I didn’t thank you. You’re always taking care of me.” She smiles, her eyes shining, like two genuine diamonds. She tilts her head, her lips are slightly parted, and for a second I think she wants to kiss me.

But that would be a dream. See, normally my alarm would go off, and I’d slam the snooze button, hoping I can cheat my way back into finishing said dream.

“Always.” I say, matter of factly, looking away toward the door.

She kisses my cheek and for a second, I freeze. My heart stops, and my chest feels hollow. Both of my arms are covered in goosebumps. There is no way she doesn’t notice. I stand there in complete silence, wondering if that was real.

“You okay?” She snaps me out of it.

No, it wasn’t. I imagined it. It wasn’t real. But God, how much do I wish it actually was.

“Yeah, let’s go.” I lead us out.

[alphaketoglutaricacid]

As much as i think toshiros complicity is based in his cowardice I do kinda get why he didnt talk to tade about what he thought abt how she views her retainership. Like even if he had that conversation like what could she do other than nod and smile—the power differential between them is huge. I feel something that plays into his conflict aversion is that if he did get upset or hit someone its not like they could hit back without serious consequences. But also he’s been raised in an environment where his comfort has always been prioritized above other ppls wellbeing and he def chooses the easier route A Lot. Like the fact that instead of genuinely engaging w whats going on w izutsumi and tade he ignored all his retainers, let maizuru handle it, and went on some two year spring break dungeon crawling whatever like words cannot describe what an abdication of responsibility this was. That instead of working w his party he went off on his own w his retainers bc he just didnt want them to know he was a noble that much (granted he also didnt think laios was cut out to lead which tough but fair) like cmon man…. But i do think his fight w laios was good for him even tho it was a shitty bitch fight when they rlly shouldve been helping their party revive ppl bc he could have a conflict on equal footing w someone. His whole life hes viewed himself as someone w no power (and the ways this is false esp on the island) but i think in the dungeon he realized he genuinely has a responsibility to his retainers n his actions led to them following him into something really dangerous when they had no dog in this. But also it seems as an attempt to reciprocate, he does seem to have become very observant of other people beyond what is normal bc he doesnt speak much. Culture plays into his clash w laios but i think the fact he’s grown up being so closely observed and in turn closely observes others plays into it too. But its fun how hes always toeing the line between being a spoiled brat, being too passive bc of his own lack of agency, n also that hes genuinely intelligent and has thought a really long time about power.

I think it also gets at why marcilles plan to equalize the races by making their lifespans the same was doomed to fail and also highlights how she can only view other ppls oppression thru her own suffering—that theres always going to be differentials in power that are difficult, but you have to interact meaningfully w them rather than running from them. A simple world w easy solutions like that would be bloodless and false, no?

[dalniente]

Usually I just save stuff like this to my drafts until I calm down but you know what, fuck it, I'm done.

Any so-called leftist who refuses to recognize that our options right now are "genocide abroad, progress at home" and "genocide abroad AND genocide at home" and that there is a significant difference between those two options is cordially invited to eat shit and die. We do not have time to entertain your anti-voting hopeless nonsense. A future in which we are able to move towards less death will always be preferable to the one in which we can't, and if you smug, sneering little clowns sacrifice that future on the altar of your own self-righteousness because you're too high on your own farts to realize how far up your own ass you are, I genuinely hope you fucking drown. Specifically, I hope you drown in the blood of the people who will die all over the world as a result of your bizarre refusal to work towards a future that doesn't include ethnic cleansing.

This is the United States. We sell war, here. I don't know how so many of you are only just now figuring that out, but you better get over your shock like yesterday because we are out of fucking time. We ran out of time when Reagan took office if not long before. You think not voting will improve any of this?

Keep calling, keep writing, keep screaming. Governments everywhere are (slowly) beginning to listen. Democrats are (slowly) beginning to listen. But Republicans never will, and if they seize power again next year (which they will absolutely do their damned to attempt), everything will be so, so much worse for everyone, everywhere. The work is slow and painful and imperfect but it will only get done if we show up and do the work, so keep calling, keep writing, keep screaming-- and when the time comes, you show up and vote for the future that lets us build a better tomorrow instead of just choking to death in the steaming shitpile of today.

[buckets-and-trees]

KRIS!

MY MIND IS BUBBLING over all the thoughts you shared!

I think... yes. You are concerned to be worried about our reader. But maybe I can alleviate a small fraction of your worry.

She knows she's in a horrible situation with Andy, but presenting it as kind of this sunshined portrait that totally washes over the reality of what happened?

It's because reader knows that if she told Thea anything closer to the truth, Thea would be strapping knives, loading the grenade launcher, and riding at dawn for reader, no questions. She's told Thea enough that Thea has her radar on and will constantly be looking at Andy with skepticism, but reader has absolutely hidden the full truth.

Is it foolish of our reader to do that?

Yes.

But who of us is not prone to thinking we have things under control more than we do/not wanting to involve other people/and especially with Andy not wanting to put anyone else in a potentially dangerous position?

I don't know if that makes it better or worse? Hopefully ... a tinge better to know?

And yes.

Bahaha.

Was it potentially too much to have this happen in Stockholm? Maybe, but I don't care! I couldn't resist! 😌

I think the frustration means it's sitting where it's supposed to be right now. With so may of my other "problematic" men, I seem to make them still too appealing, but the angst here, the fretting for reader... I'm feeling like it's working. I want it to feel just that amount of off where you don't want to read more but can't not read it. The way I dread YOUR Mrs. Barber, but I'm worried over her and fascinated and terrified by her circumstances! The literary shivers. So just adding that one of the people I feel like does this so well is saying I've nailed the frets here? I'm melting over it, Kris!

Dangerous Desires

Characters/Pairings: soft!dark mafia Andy Barber x female!reader Word Count: 6.3k Summary: When you use Andy's private jet to run away to Stockholm for a few days, you confide in your closest friend about the complexities of your relationship with your dangerous fiancé.

Content/Warnings: power dynamics and emotional manipulation; forced engagement; use of pet name (sweetheart); smut (phone sex, mutual masturbation, fingering, clit play, nipple play)

Author Note: No one asked for this, some of you are going to throw daggers at me for returning to this series over others, but... Andy doesn't care much for what you think you want. He knows what you need.

Previous Part | Full Series

The last forty-eight hours have been a blessed reprieve from the intensity of your life with Andy. Stockholm greeted you with crisp air and Thea welcomed you with open arms, no questions asked—at first. You've spent the time wandering the cobblestone streets, admiring the architecture, and deliberately avoiding deep conversation about why you suddenly appeared on her doorstep. 

Now, sitting in her cozy apartment with containers of food from a local Swedish restaurant spread between you, you can feel the shift in the atmosphere. Thea sets down her fork with deliberate precision and fixes you with that penetrating stare you remember so well from college, when she could always tell when you were hiding something. 

"Okay, enough," she says, crossing her arms. "I've given you two days of sightseeing and small talk. I've watched you check your phone every thirty minutes like you're expecting either a bomb threat or a love letter. You’re safely out of jet lag territory. It’s time to tell me what’s really going on.”

You've told Thea bits and pieces—about meeting Andy, the whirlwind romance, the engagement—but you've kept the darker elements vague, painting a picture of a passionate relationship with a wealthy businessman rather than the complicated, dangerous reality.

You bite the inside of your lip as you look at Thea. Time zones and geography may have interrupted how frequently you talk, but she’s still your best friend, the one who’s known you for years, has seen your highest highs and your lowest lows. You know you can’t tell her everything, but you owe it to tell her more. And it’s why you came here specifically when you decided you needed to get away. 

Because you wanted and needed to talk to your best friend. 

"I don't even know where to start," you admit, twirling your wine glass between your fingers. 

Thea's expression softens. "How about with why you really came to Stockholm? And don't tell me it was just to see my beautiful face, though I'm sure that was part of it." 

You laugh, but it catches in your throat. "Andy is not just a businessman. He's complicated. Powerful in ways I didn't understand at first."

"What kind of powerful are we talking about?" Thea asks, her eyes narrowing. "Like, politically connected powerful or something else?" 

You hesitate, weighing how much to reveal. The confidentiality agreement flashes through your mind. "Something else. The kind that makes people afraid of him." 

Thea sets her wine glass down with a thud. "Are you in danger? Is that why you're here?" 

You take a deep breath, genuinely considering how to answer that. You decide you can honestly say, “He’s dangerous, but not necessarily to me. 

Thea narrows her eyes, but you know it’s at the situation, not at you. “I don’t love that answer. So tell me the real story. Not the glossy version you've been feeding me."

You sigh, twisting your engagement ring around your finger. "I met Andy when he hired my company to plan this elaborate charity gala at his estate. From the moment I walked into his mansion for our first meeting, I was affected by him. He's not just handsome, he's magnetic. The kind of man who commands attention just by existing in a space."

Thea leans forward, completely engrossed. "I remember you mentioning a big client around that time. That was him?"

You nod. "But I put all those feelings aside. I was determined to be professional - this was a huge opportunity for my business. Besides, men like Andy Barber don't usually go for women like me."

"What do you mean 'women like you'?" Thea interrupts, frowning fiercely. "You're amazing."

You wave her off. "You know what I mean. Men like Andy are supposed to date supermodels or socialites and old money.” 

Thea shakes her head firmly, leaning across the table to grab your hand. "No, stop that right now. You're brilliant, gorgeous, and built a successful business from nothing. Any man would be lucky to have you, even some fancy billionaire." 

Her fierce defense makes you smile despite yourself. "Thanks, but—" 

"No buts. I've always hated how you downplay yourself and I will never forgive your shitty ex." She refills your wine glass. "So what happened after the gala? Don't leave out any juicy details."

You take a large sip of wine, feeling warmth spread through your chest. She’s your best friend, but you still know you’ll be sparing her some of the details about that first night with Andy - not just the dangerous ones, but some of the spicy ones as well. You can’t put into words the kind of feelings he invoked in your body and in your soul that night or many of the other nights since then. 

Thea prompts you to continue with a gentle bark of your name to bring you back to the moment, and you huff a small laugh and go on.

"The gala was perfect. Everything went exactly as planned. I was packing up, feeling proud but exhausted, about to go home when Andy took me to his private office.

"He told me how impressed he was with my work, how he'd watched me all night." You pause, remembering the intensity in Andy's eyes that night. "Then essentially he said he wanted me. Not just for the night, but for good."

Thea's eyes widen. "Wait, what?" 

"God, Thea, I can't even explain what happened to me."

"So you slept with him," Thea supplies, a knowing smile spreading across her face. 

You feel your cheeks heat. "It was more than that. It was the most intense sex of my life.”

Thea squeals and kicks her feet out in celebration. You can’t help but grin for a moment with her. 

"I woke up the next morning in his bed, feeling like I'd been swept away in a storm. We hadn't slept much." You take another sip of wine, memories flooding back. “And then I noticed he’d put a ring on my finger before I even woke up. Said we had to be married. Right there, while I was still tangled in his sheets."

“Seriously?” Thea's eyes are wide with disbelief. "After one night?"

You shake your head in disbelief at your own actions - your acquiescence, even though you know how trapped you’d been. "Just like that. One night of incredible sex and suddenly I'm engaged to a man I barely know."

"Holy shit," Thea whispers. "That's... impulsive, even for you."

"I know, I know. It sounds insane. It was insane," you admit, running your fingers through your hair. "He wanted to elope, make it official pretty quickly. No fuss, no family." 

"But?" Thea prompts, clearly sensing there's more to the story. 

You take another long sip of wine. "But then he went and met my parents. Without telling me. As a 'surprise.'" 

"He what?!" Thea nearly shouts.

"Yep. Set up a nice lunch with them at the country club, introduced himself as the man who swept me up into an engagement, somehow won them over in no time at all. They love him, he seems to adore them, and now it’s a public wedding with my parents' full support. And it's happening in three weeks."

Thea chokes on her wine. "Three weeks? That's... that's practically tomorrow in wedding planning time!" 

"I know." You press your palms against your eyes. "I went from thinking we might elope to suddenly planning a high-society affair that people are already talking about. Andy's social circle is... important. Influential. And now they're all going to be there, watching."

"But that's not all, is it?" Thea asks softly, studying your face. 

You shake your head, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on you. "No. He had his lawyer draw up this prenup—this massive document with clauses about everything from infidelity to social media posts. And I negotiated some points, which shocked everyone including myself, but it’s still overwhelming."

“Of course it must be. But that's not all, is it?" Thea asks softly, studying your face.

You shake your head, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on you. "No. He wants to invest in my company. He wants to be a silent partner, become a part of the business I've built from the ground up. With all these plans for expansion and growth."

Thea whistles low. "That's a lot. So he's not just marrying you, he's buying into your professional life too." 

"Exactly." You drain your wine glass. "And the thing is, his proposal makes sense. The capital he's offering, the connections—it would take my company to a whole new level. But..."

Thea leans back, her expression thoughtful. "But you're worried about losing control of your company—the one thing that's truly yours."

"Exactly." You're relieved she understands so quickly. "My business is the one thing I've built entirely on my own. No help, no shortcuts. Just hard work and determination. And now he wants a piece of it."

"Have you signed anything yet? For the business deal, I mean."

You shake your head. "No. His lawyer gave me a week to think it over. That's part of why I'm here. I needed space to think clearly, away from his... influence."

Thea raises an eyebrow. "His influence?"

You feel your cheeks flush, remembering Andy's hands on your body, his lips against your skin. "He's... persuasive." 

"So the sex is that good, huh?" Thea grins, but her eyes remain serious. 

"It's not just the sex," you admit, though your pulse races at the memories. "It's him. The way he looks at me like I'm the only person in the world. The way he anticipates what I need before I even know I need it. He's attentive and generous and..." You trail off, struggling to articulate the magnetic pull Andy has over you.

"And dangerous," Thea finishes for you, her voice gentle but firm. 

You nod slowly. "Yes. And dangerous." 

"Do you love him?" she asks bluntly. 

The question hits you like a physical blow. You've been so caught up in the whirlwind of everything that's happened, you certainly haven't asked yourself that question.

"I..." you start, then pause, truly considering. "I don't know if what I feel is love or... something else. Obsession? Fascination? It's intense, whatever it is. I think if things had developed differently, I would absolutely love him."

Thea watches you carefully, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "Do you think he loves you?" 

You laugh, but it sounds hollow even to your own ears. "I don’t think Andy operates in those terms. He sees something he wants, and he takes it. I think he's... fixated on me, possessive of me. But love? I don't know."

"That doesn't sound healthy," Thea says gently. 

"No, I suppose it doesn't." You twist your engagement ring again. You meet her eyes, vulnerable in a way you rarely allow yourself to be. "I don't know if what I feel is love or obsession or Stockholm syndrome. But I can't imagine walking away from him now, even if I should."

Thea reaches across the table and takes your hand. "Listen to me. I've known you for over a decade. I've seen you fall in and out of love. I've watched you build your business from nothing. You're one of the strongest women I know, and that's why this scares me."

Her candid words make your stomach clench. "Scares you how?" 

"You've always known exactly what you want, and you've never let anyone dictate your life. But this man... in just weeks, he's become the center of your universe. He's infiltrated every part of your life - personal, professional, everything. That's not romance, that's control."

You wince at the blunt assessment, but you can't deny the truth in it. "I know how it sounds." 

"Do you?" Thea squeezes your hand. "Because from where I'm sitting, it sounds like this man has bulldozed into your life and rearranged everything to suit himself. The rushed engagement, meeting your parents behind your back, now wanting a piece of your business... these aren't the actions of someone who respects your boundaries or autonomy."

Her words strike a chord deep within you. You've had the same thoughts, expressed them to Andy yourself, but hearing them spoken aloud makes them impossible to ignore and yet hard to acknowledge.

"I know," you whisper. "But Thea, you haven't met him. There's something about Andy that's... different. When I'm with him, everything feels right, even when it shouldn't." 

Thea sighs deeply. "That's what worries me most. The way you talk about him - it's like he's cast some kind of spell over you." 

You laugh weakly. "Maybe he has." 

"Look," Thea says, leaning forward intently, "I'm not telling you what to do. I can't. But I am asking you to really think about what you want - not what Andy wants for you, not what your parents think is best, but what YOU want.”

You take a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts. How do you explain Andy to someone who's never met him, never felt the force of his presence?

Because he’s nearly everything you would have wanted, if he’d only let you choose him instead of forcing a choice. 

"He makes me feel alive," you finally say. "When I'm with him, everything is more intense, more vibrant. And yes, he's controlling, but he's also... protective. Like nothing bad could ever happen to me as long as I'm his. And he makes me feel things I haven’t felt in years, or… ever really."

"But at what cost?" Thea asks softly. "Your freedom? Your business? Your ability to make your own choices?" 

You stare into your wine glass, watching the crimson liquid catch the light. It's the question you've been avoiding, the one that drove you across an ocean to sit in this apartment. 

"I don't know," you admit. "That's why I'm here. I needed to step away, to see if I could even think clearly without him around." 

Thea studies you for a long moment. "And can you? Think clearly now?" 

You consider this. The past two days have been a strange mix of relief and tension. You've checked your phone obsessively, half-expecting angry messages from Andy, but there have been none. Only a single text each morning: "I miss you. Come home when you're ready." 

The restraint itself feels calculated, as if he knows how precarious this time away is. 

Of course he knows that. 

You nod slowly. "Yes. Being here has helped. I feel clearer than I have in weeks."

"So what are you going to do about the business proposal?"

You take a deep breath. "I think... I think I'm going to counter-offer. Accept his investment but with stricter limitations on his involvement. Keep majority control for myself, maintain separate finances."

Thea nods approvingly. "That sounds smart. And what about the marriage?"

The question hangs in the air. 

You run your finger along the rim of your wine glass, taking your time to answer. "I'm going to marry him," you finally say, the words both terrifying yet grounding as they leave your lips.

Thea's face falls slightly, though she quickly tries to mask her disappointment. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

"I think it's what I need to do," you say carefully, meeting Thea's concerned gaze. "I know how it sounds, and maybe it's crazy, but... I need to see where this goes."

Thea doesn't look surprised, just worried. "If that's your decision, then I'll support you. But promise me something?"

"Anything."

"Promise you'll keep an escape plan. Money he can't access, documents somewhere safe, people like me who know where you are." She reaches for your hand again, squeezing it tightly. "Just in case."

The gravity of what she's suggesting makes your stomach clench, but you nod. "I promise."

"And for God's sake, tell me when the wedding is so I can be there for you," Thea adds firmly. "I don't care how short the notice, I'm not letting you marry this man without me standing beside you." 

The rush of affection you feel for her nearly brings tears to your eyes. "Three weeks from Saturday. I'll have the invitation details sent to you tomorrow." 

"Good." Thea refills both of your wine glasses. "And I’m going to tell those two bodyguards of yours to stay alert," Thea adds, glancing toward the window where she knows Shep and Mark are stationed outside her building. "I don't trust this Andy character, but they seem competent at least."

You smile, warmed by her concern. "They've been surprisingly helpful. I wasn't sure they'd even let me come here without telling Andy first."

"Speaking of which," Thea narrows her eyes, "does he know where you are?"

You hesitate. "Shep said he had to report my location to Andy's head of security, but he waited until we were already on the plane. I haven't heard anything directly from Andy about it, just those morning texts."

"That's interesting," Thea muses. "Not the reaction I would have expected from a controlling fiancé."

"I know.”

"Maybe he's giving you space to make your own decision about marrying him," Thea suggests, though her tone makes it clear she doesn't quite believe it. "Or maybe he's confident you'll come back regardless." 

You stare at your engagement ring, watching how it catches the light. "I think it's the latter. He knows I'll come back." 

"And will you? Soon, I mean?" 

You nod slowly. "The day after tomorrow. I've made my decision about the business deal, and I need to get back to wedding preparations." You laugh softly. "God, that sounds so normal. Like I'm just another bride worried about flower arrangements and seating charts."

"Will you tell him you talked to me about all this?" Thea asks, concern evident in her voice. 

You consider this for a moment. "I'll tell him I saw you, that you’re my best friend. The prenup allows for basic personal details to be shared with my family and friends ‘with careful discretion,’” you use the verbiage from the legal document looming in your belongings. “And at the end of the day, I had to come enlist my maid of honor. You will be, right?” 

"No question. Maid of honor and harpy of terror to this man," she promises with a wicked grin that softens to something more sincere. "I'll be there for you every step of the way."

You lean across the table and hug her tightly, feeling a lump form in your throat. "Thank you. For everything. For listening, for not judging, for being here." 

"Always," she whispers against your hair. "That's what best friends are for." 

When you pull back, you notice Thea studying your face with an intensity that makes you shift in your seat. "What?" 

"I just want to make sure you're really okay," she says. "That this is really what you want." 

You consider her question carefully. Is this what you want? The rushed wedding, the complex business deal, the dangerous man who's turned your world upside down? 

"Something in my bones wants him," you confess. "But I also want my life. I think I can have both if I'm smart about it."

Thea looks skeptical but nods. "Then let's make sure you're as prepared as possible. We have two more days to strategize." 

The next morning, you wake early to find Thea already in the kitchen, laptop open and a determined expression on her face. She's surrounded by printouts and sticky notes. 

"What's all this?" you ask, accepting the cup of coffee she pushes toward you. 

"Your battle plan," she says, gesturing to the organized chaos. "I've been researching everything I could about protecting yourself in a business merger and a marriage to someone with... significant means." 

You scan the notes, touched by her thoroughness. "You didn't have to do all this." 

"Yes, I did," Thea insists, pushing a stack of papers toward you. "If you're going through with this, you're doing it with your eyes wide open and as much protection as I can give you." 

You spend the day poring over Thea's research, making notes and drafting a counter-proposal for Andy's business offer. By evening, you feel more confident, more in control than you have since this whirlwind began. 

That night, as you lie in Thea's guest bed staring at the ceiling, your phone buzzes with a text. Your heart jumps, expecting Andy, but it's from your security detail.

SHEP: All clear tonight. Flight scheduled for 11am. We’ll depart at 9:30am for the airport. Let me know if you need anything else before then. 

Mark and Shep have been nothing but supportive in this adventure, given you space, but made sure you’re safe - not that you think you’re actually in any danger, but it’s been nice to have two big men watching over their shoulders for you so you don’t have to worry about it. You type back a quick thanks, then hesitate before opening your texts with Andy.

His last message stares back at you

ANDY: I miss you. Come home when you're ready.

You stare at those words, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. After two days of radio silence, perhaps you should respond. You type out a simple message.

I'll be home tomorrow.

His response comes almost instantly, as if he'd been waiting by his phone.

ANDY: Good. The house is empty without you.

There's something both reassuring and unsettling about how easily he's accepted your impromptu trip. No anger, no demands for explanations. Just patient confidence that you'd return to him. 

YOU: Did Shep tell you where I was?

Your phone vibrates in your hand, but this time it's not a text message. Andy's name and photo fill your screen as an incoming call. Your heart leaps into your throat as you hesitate for a second before answering. 

"Hello?" Your voice sounds small and uncertain even to your own ears. 

"There she is," Andy's deep voice fills your ear, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. "I thought a call might be better than another text." 

You sit up in bed, pulling the covers around you like a shield. "I'm surprised you called." 

"Are you? Some occasions call for a more personal touch." There's a hint of amusement in his tone. "Shep did his job perfectly—keeping you safe while you’re getting the space you wanted. Stockholm is beautiful this time of year. I hope you've been able to enjoy it."

There's a pause, and you can almost see him sitting in his study, perhaps with a glass of whiskey. It’s nearly midnight, meaning it’s early evening back in Boston. 

Andy continues, his voice dropping to that intimate tone that always makes your skin prickle with awareness. "I'm looking forward to having you back where you belong. I imagine you must be missing our bed by now... missing me." It's not a question but a statement, as if your longing for him is a foregone conclusion.

You bite your lip, caught between irritation at his presumption and the uncomfortable realization that part of you does miss him—his touch, his presence, the intensity he brings to everything.

"I've been busy catching up with Thea," you say, deliberately not confirming his assumption.

"Of course. I'm glad you've had that time with your friend." His tone is understanding, almost too understanding. "But I’m sure you must be eager to get home to me." His voice drops lower, more intimate. "I know how much you must be missing me, sweetheart. The way your body responds to mine, and it’s been so many days since I fucked you properly."

Your breath catches, and you find yourself sinking deeper into the pillows. "Andy—"

"The bed is cold without you," he continues, his voice a seductive caress. "I've been thinking about how you look spread out on our sheets, how your skin glows in the moonlight through our bedroom window."

You close your eyes, trying to resist the pull of his words, but images flood your mind unbidden. 

"What are you wearing right now?" he asks, and the question is so direct, so intimate that you nearly hang up. But something stops you—that same draw hook in your gut that has held you captivated by him since the beginning. 

"I'm not doing this," you say, but your voice lacks conviction even to your own ears.

"Tell me," Andy commands, his tone shifting from seductive to domineering in an instant. "What are you wearing, sweetheart? Don't make me ask again." 

You swallow hard, your resistance crumbling under the weight of his authority. "A t-shirt. And underwear." 

"What kind of underwear?" His voice is like velvet wrapped around steel. 

"Just... cotton. Nothing special." 

Andy makes a sound of disapproval. "When you return home, I want you in silk and lace. Always. Nothing else is worthy of touching your most intimate parts."

Your breathing quickens despite yourself. "Andy, this isn't—" 

"Take off the shirt," he interrupts, and the command in his voice brooks no argument. "Now." 

You hesitate, glancing toward your bedroom door, thinking of Thea sleeping down the hall.

"Don't make me wait," he warns. "I've been very patient these past days, giving you your space. Now I need you to be good girl and do what I say."

Your breath catches as you set the phone down on speaker and pull the shirt over your head, shivering as the cool air hits your skin.

"It's off," you whisper, picking up the phone again.

"Good girl," he purrs, and you hate how those two simple words make your body respond. "Now touch your breasts. Imagine they're my hands."

Your fingers tremble as they drift up to your breasts, a flush of heat spreading across your skin despite your internal resistance. You cup your breast, feeling your nipple harden under your palm. 

"Are you doing it?" Andy's voice is rough with desire. 

"Yes," you breathe, hating the way your body betrays you, responding to his commands from thousands of miles away. 

"Tell me how it feels." 

"It feels..." you hesitate, caught between embarrassment and arousal. "It doesn't feel like you." 

A low chuckle fills your ear. "No, it doesn't. My hands are larger, stronger. And I know exactly how to touch you to make you come apart." 

Your eyes flutter closed as his words paint vivid pictures in your mind. You can almost feel his weight on the bed, the heat of his body against yours. 

"Now slide your hand down your stomach," Andy commands. "Slowly."

You comply, your fingers trailing down your abdomen, your body responding to his voice as if he were actually in the room with you. 

"Stop at the waistband," he orders, and you freeze, fingers trembling against the elastic of your underwear. "Are you wet for me yet, sweetheart?" 

Your cheeks burn with embarrassment and arousal. "Andy, I—" 

"Answer the question," he interrupts, his voice firm but gentle. "Are you wet for me?" 

"Yes," you whisper, the admission making you feel both vulnerable and powerful. 

"I knew you would be," he says, satisfaction evident in his tone. "You've always been so responsive to me. Touch yourself through your underwear first. "

Your fingers slip between your thighs, pressing against the damp cotton. A small gasp escapes your lips before you can stop it.

"That's it," he encourages, his voice deepening with desire. "Now slip your hand beneath. I want you to feel exactly what I'm missing when you play little games and run off to another country."

You freeze as a faint rustling sound comes through the phone, followed by the unmistakable sound of a zipper being lowered. Your breath catches as you hear fabric shifting, then Andy's breathing changes—deeper, more deliberate. A soft, rhythmic sound starts in the background. 

"Are you...?" You can't quite bring yourself to finish the question. 

"Mmm," he confirms, his voice rougher than before. "Did you think you were the only one affected? I've been hard since I heard your voice." The subtle, steady sounds continue as he speaks. "Now, circle your clit slowly. Don't rush."

You comply, your fingers finding your sensitive bud as the sounds from his end become more pronounced—a soft, steady rhythm that makes your core clench with need. Something about knowing he's stroking himself to the thought of you—to the sound of your breathing—makes your resistance crumble further. 

"Let me hear you," Andy commands, his voice tightening with strain. "Don't hold back."

You bite your lip, aware of Thea sleeping down the hall, but a soft moan escapes anyway as your fingers increase their pace. Your head falls back against the pillows, eyes closed, lost in the sensations and the sound of Andy pleasuring himself thousands of miles away. 

"That's it," he encourages. "Faster now." 

Your breathing becomes ragged as you follow his instructions, pleasure building in waves. The knowledge that he's doing the same, timing his strokes to your sounds, is intoxicating. 

"Andy," you whisper, voice trembling. 

"That's it," Andy murmurs, his breathing becoming more ragged. "I want you to slip two fingers inside yourself. Feel how empty you are without me."

You obey, gasping softly as your fingers enter your slick heat. It's not enough—not nearly enough compared to the fullness you feel when he's inside you.

"Tell me how it feels," he commands.

"Not... not like you," you manage, your voice breathy and strained. "Not enough."

His groan of satisfaction sends another jolt of arousal through you. "No one will ever fill you like I do," he says, his voice thick with possession. 

"No one," you agree breathlessly, your fingers moving faster as the tension builds. The sound of his breathing, rough and uneven, pushes you closer to the edge.

"When you come home tomorrow," Andy says, his voice strained with his own building pleasure, "I'm going to bend you over the first flat surface I find and remind you exactly what you've been missing." 

The image flashes vividly in your mind—Andy taking you against the wall, the kitchen counter, his desk—and a whimper escapes your lips. 

"Are you close?" he asks, though he must know the answer from your ragged breathing. 

"Yes," you gasp, fingers working frantically now. 

"Wait," he commands suddenly, his voice sharp with authority. "Don't come yet." 

You whimper in protest, your body trembling on the precipice. "Andy, please—" 

“I know, sweetheart," he responds, his own voice thick with desire, yet smooth as silk and just as dangerous. "I want you to pinch your nipple, the way I do when I'm about to make you come."

Your body continues to betray you, responding readily to his commands as if he were right there in the room. You stifle a gasp as you follow his instruction, more heat and slickness pooling between your thighs.

“Do it again.”

You comply, letting loose a tiny mewl, desire coiling tighter inside you with each second. The sound of Andy's breathing grows heavier, more urgent.

"Now," he growls, "come for me. Let me hear what I've been missing." 

The permission breaks the last of your restraint. Pleasure crashes through you in waves, your body arching off the bed as you muffle your cries with your free hand. Through the haze of your climax, you hear Andy's breathing hitch, followed by a low, guttural groan that sends aftershocks rippling through your soul. 

For several moments, there's nothing but the sound of both of you catching your breath. You feel the familiar mix of satisfaction and shame that always follows your intimate encounters with Andy.

"That's my good girl," Andy finally says, his voice warm with satisfaction. "I've missed those sounds." 

You collapse back against the pillows, your body still trembling with aftershocks. You reach for the phone, taking it off speaker, and pressing it to your ear as reality slowly filters back in. You're in Stockholm, in Thea's guest room, having just let Andy orchestrate your pleasure from across an ocean.

"I should go," you whisper, suddenly aware of how vulnerable you are, naked and exposed in a bed that isn't yours. 

"Not yet," Andy says, his voice gentler now but still commanding. "Stay with me a little longer." 

Against your better judgment, you comply, pulling the covers up to your chin as if they might shield you from his influence. 

"What did your friend think of me?" Andy asks unexpectedly. 

The question catches you off guard. "What?" 

"Your friend. Thea. I assume you discussed me with her. That was part of why you went, wasn't it? To get her perspective.”

"Yes," you admit, seeing no point in lying. "I needed someone outside of... all this. Someone who knows me."

"And what did dear Thea have to say about your dangerous fiancé?" There's a hint of amusement in his voice, but underneath it, you sense something sharper, more attentive.

You choose your words carefully. "She's concerned. She thinks everything is moving too fast."

"Mmm. The typical response of a protective friend," Andy says, sounding unsurprised. "And did you tell her everything? About who I really am? What I do?"

"No," you say truthfully. "I told her you're powerful, complicated. But I don’t even know all of what you do, and I’m smart enough not to tell her even if I did. I haven’t signed the prenup yet, but I assume we’re in a bit of a grey area there.”

“Very shrewd. But you’ve always had a good head on your shoulders.”

Andy's words are both comforting and unsettling. You’ve had a good head except for letting yourself fall into his trap and become so entangled in his web that you can’t or won’t find a way out 

"Did you tell her anything else?" he asks softly.

"Yes. Not everything," you admit. "Some things are just... ours."

A satisfied hum vibrates through the phone. "And what was her advice about marrying me?"

You hesitate, but decide honesty is the best approach. "She told me to be careful. To keep an escape plan."

To your surprise, Andy laughs—a genuine, warm sound that makes your heart flutter despite yourself. "Smart woman. I look forward to meeting her. Maid of honor, I assume?”

"Yes," you admit, surprised by his easy acceptance of Thea's cautious advice. 

"Good. You should have your best friend beside you on our day." There's a pause, and when he speaks again, his voice has that intense focus that always makes you feel like you're the only person in his universe. "Tomorrow can't come soon enough. I have something special planned for your return."

"What is it?" you ask, curiosity piquing despite yourself.

"Now where would be the fun in telling you?" You can practically hear the smirk in his voice. "But I think you'll appreciate it. A little welcome home gift."

You sit up, pulling the covers around your naked torso. "Andy, about the business proposal—"

"We'll discuss it when you're home," he interrupts smoothly. 

"When I'm home," you agree, supposing that some conversations are best had in person anyway, especially with Andy. "I've been thinking about it a lot." 

"I expected nothing less," he says, his voice warm with approval. "You're not the type to make hasty business decisions." 

Just hasty marriage decisions, you think but don't say. 

"Get some sleep now," Andy says, his voice softening. "You have a long journey tomorrow, and I want you well-rested for what I have planned." 

The implication sends a shiver through you that's equal parts anticipation and trepidation. "Goodnight, Andy." 

"Goodnight, sweetheart. Dream of me." 

The line goes dead, and you sit there for a moment, phone clutched in your hand, body still humming with residual pleasure. You feel a complex mix of emotions—satisfaction, shame, anticipation, and a strange sort of emptiness now that his voice is gone.

You set your phone down and slip your t-shirt back on, feeling the cool fabric against your still-sensitized skin. Your mind whirls with conflicting thoughts. How is it possible that even from across an ocean, Andy can reach out and pull your strings so effortlessly? Make your body respond as if he's right there in the room with you? 

And yet, despite the momentary surrender to his seduction, you feel oddly empowered. You made this journey without his permission. You've spent days thinking clearly, planning your counter-offer, preparing yourself for what comes next. The fact that you gave in to one phone call doesn't negate the strength you've found here. 

You slip out of bed and pad to the bathroom, splashing cool water on your flushed face. In the mirror, your reflection stares back back at you, eyes bright, cheeks still flushed with pleasure. You barely recognize yourself anymore—this woman caught between desire and fear, independence and submission.

Tomorrow you'll return to Boston, to Andy's world. But you're not the same woman who fled a few days ago. You've made decisions, drawn boundaries, prepared yourself as best you can. 

As you crawl back into bed, you wonder what Andy's "welcome home gift" might be. With him, it could be anything from jewelry to something far more complicated. Whatever it is, you know it will be calculated to bind you to him even more tightly. 

Sleep comes slowly, your mind replaying snippets of conversation with Thea, Andy's voice on the phone, the business proposal waiting for your response. When you finally drift toward sleep, one thought crystallizes in your mind. You can want Andy—crave him even—without surrendering everything you are to him. The trick will be making him understand that. And holding yourself to that resolve.

Getting completely swept away by him would be easy, simple. 

But maybe, just maybe, you can carve your own way. 

Bahaha, happy I'm Your Man May, everyone! 😏

What do we think Andy has in store for our return?

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[iwillstabyou]

Ahhhh well if it isn’t my old friend, the crushing feeling of never truly being understood despite your endless attempts to articulate yourself, paying me another visit

[crossdressingdeath]

Hm. Interesting that you managed to misgender Ivenci despite it being... basically impossible to miss that they use they/them. Not a good look. Word of advice, if you want your arguments to be taken seriously I'd suggest not missing very obvious aspects of the characters you're trying to talk about. And that's the kind interpretation of that little fuck up of yours; if you're being a bigoted cunt then kindly fuck right off out of this fandom, you don't belong here and are not welcome.

Anyway. Impressive how you've managed to totally miss the point of Ivenci's whole plotline, which is very clearly that pretty words mean nothing if you don't back them up with meaningful action. Ivenci says a pretty piece about getting rid of the Crows and replacing them with Antiva's "rightful leaders", but those rightful leaders are... Ivenci, according to their own obvious motives and explicit plans (and they're likely also some level of aristocrat, although that's never confirmed; you know that the only democracy in Thedas is Orzammar, right? And even that seems to often end up being a monarchy with extra steps? Government isn't for the lower classes in a setting like Thedas). Even if we ignore that, the "true" (for lack of a better word) rightful leaders of Antiva are either the king or the merchant princes, depending on whether you believe the story or the truth of how Antiva is run. Ivenci's not advocating for some modern democracy, they're advocating for a monarchy on paper and. whatever it's called when a low-ranking bureaucrat starts poisoning people who disagree with them in reality. I'm not going to rehash all my points, because frankly I can't be bothered and if you can't be arsed to actually engage with what I'm saying I'm not going to waste my time repeating myself, but "the Crows are the ones who put their money where their mouths are while Ivenci is trying to use a horrible situation that they deliberately made worse to take control of the city and then kill anyone who disagrees with them" is in fact kind of the fucking point; hey, maybe Bioware in 2024 was more interested in saying something about politicians than their fake assassins' guild that lives in Antiva and so has entirely amoral reasons to not let any of this happen.

And yeah. They are all fictional. Glad you managed to pick up on that. But that means everyone is "sanitized" (by which I mean allowed a place within the setting where they would hopefully be stamped out in real life; groups not being pure evil isn't sanitization, it's called writing a good story) compared to what they'd be in reality. Orlais is an empire. Basically everywhere else is a monarchy. There's a church with a private army that goes on state-sanctioned killing sprees. Every playable character in the series has a triple-digit body count. All of this is treated as if not totally fine then at least an accepted part of life. The Crows are not actually meaningfully worse than any of that; it's called fantasy, it's no fun if everyone's clinging to modern day morality. They're also objectively not a mafia; they have the accent and some of the aesthetic, but the games and books make it very clear that they're closer to merchant princes (at least some of them are merchant princes, in fact) than any sort of criminal enterprise. This is a setting where "professional killer" is a legitimate career. If you can't deal with that that's your problem, not mine.

I am once again begging people to realize that Ivenci does not in fact want to "make Antiva better", that's not why they want the Crows gone. This is someone who straight up let Treviso get occupied by the Antaam who fuck up every city they occupy (and tbh it is actually insane to me that a mage let the Antaam occupy their city after the atrocities in Ventus, which must have happened before the Antaam took Treviso because occupied Ventus is referenced in Eight Little Talons which happens before Antiva is invaded; it says a lot that Ivenci thought that was a good idea). They tried to gas the city with qamek (again, insane thing for a mage specifically to be doing after Ventus, these experienced writers did that on purpose) to remove the Crows and their supporters yes but also anyone who spoke out against the occupation too loudly. Guys, please, Ivenci wants power. We are repeatedly told and shown that they want power. They'd rather destroy the minds of half the city and give those remaining to the Antaam than not have power. Their immediate response to being told they'll be put on trial—with the knowledge of the king and merchant princes, so even if we assume the Crows don't have the legal right to do that they fully intend to cover their bases on that front—for all that treason it is at this point well documented they've been committing is "You can't do that to me, I'm the governor of this city". Them saying the Crows are bad does not mean they're right because they could not more clearly think the Crows are bad because they're getting in their way specifically.

They're not even right about why the Crows are bad; first and easiest the stuff about the Crows murdering people in the street is just straight up nonsense, there is literally nothing in any other game or this one suggesting they do that, they kill people they are hired to kill (and because they're so expensive those targets are extremely unlikely to include random people on the street) and claiming they're as bad as the Antaam (who we do see dragging people away during the first visit to Treviso) is ridiculous. And second... I've said this many times, but defending Antiva is literally the Crows' job. If the people of Treviso or Rook (or Ivenci, although they wouldn't for obvious reasons) went to the king and asked for help to free Treviso, the king would send them straight back to the Crows because defending Antiva is their duty and they do it proudly and as well as they can. Keeping Ivenci in the loop is the limit of what they're really required to do, and frankly given Ivenci is a) incredibly rude, b) wildly suspicious and c) entirely useless it's really more than they deserve, someone please replace this person with a competent governor who actually wants to help their people. Also no I won't ever be over them standing around doing nothing except insisting Crows Bad right outside the field hospital the Crows set up and are fighting to defend from the Antaam in blighted Treviso. This is where everyone involved in this situation who claims to care for Treviso should be putting their money where their mouths are and it is telling and pointed that the Crows do at great personal cost—the Crow casualties dying of blight and getting warped into monsters that the other Crows with Rook's aid have to put down so they aren't suffering and can't hurt anyone was deliberate, can people stop acting like the Crows are totally fine and untouched in blighted Treviso—and Ivenci and the Butcher don't, that was a deliberate storytelling choice and I would like people to stop ignoring it.

Ivenci is not insisting the Crows should stay out of it because it's not their job and they're overstepping; they're saying it because it is the Crows' job and they are interfering with Ivenci's plans, which is in fact evidence of the Crows working as intended in their role as Antiva's defenders (which does make the argument that Ivenci's right about the Crows being bad for Antiva somewhat ironic, given they're walking proof of the Crows being pretty good at their role even while being actively sabotaged and before anyone suggests Rook's doing all the work I'm saying right now that that's not the case, the Crows are clearly doing a lot when Rook's not around, and if you claim it is because we don't see them doing it you'd better be claiming that literally every faction is completely worthless because that argument does not apply to just the Crows). I am begging people to use their critical thinking skills, people saying things you agree with in broad terms and people being right are two entirely different things.

[seafoam-taide]

I love love love my dear Entropy I think about her all the time I love her <33 I have to write about her she is always in my thoughts. Don't click these tags open unless you really want to read them there is . There's lots. THERE WERE TOO MANY IT KILLED SOME OF THEM. WHY DIDN'T IT TELL ME TAG LIMIT I KEPT TYPUNG !!! That's so sad and I can't even put the rest that I typed up here bc I forgot it already because my brain fucking sucks. Whatever whatever whatever rahggg beams Entropy thoughts directly into your brain you know exactly what I mean now

[administer-distractions]

.

[butchclericbeast]

Man, ill see the voting vs not voting arguments on my dash and I dont know how to explain that at this point that the chances of Biden winning the election are so grim that at this point its just a matter of preparing for the worse, and that the blame for that is not people who are disillusioned or who hit a breaking point on voting for someone carrying out a fucking genocide, but on the democrats for throwing an election that should've been the easiest fucking win on earth down the toilet by consistently abandoning and making fools of their own base. Like it's cooked!! We are arguing over nothing!! Im sorry if you're placing all your eggs on a candidate that is so shit that he's probably going to lose to a CONVICTED FELON it's not on the voters to save that situation.

And even then, like, if you did wanna save that situation it's not a matter of arguing with people on the internet its about calling and writing the dems every day being like im not voting unless you change your candidate. Im not voting unless we stop funding this genocide. Or being a part of an uncommitted vote movement like Michigan. That's a million times more productive than the vote blue no matter who bullshit. I'm sorry friends there is no voting blue no matter who-ing our way out of this and you all sound delusional still harping on that. Reality has moved far past that.

Start tapping into your local networks and engaging in ways to support your community bc things are about to get bad and the dems are not going to protect anyone.

[pulltheguts]

That Ex post about being an evil clone is so good, but the concept of the reverse is so fucked. What if you were deemed irredeemable, the villain of your own story. Still, they took part of you, used it to make another version of you. Without the trauma that sculpted you into what you became, it thrived, became something you could never be. Kind, soft, gentle in a way that would have killed you.

The lack of understanding in that, that in another life you could have had that kindness for yourself, in the fact that they ignored your chance at redemption to instead replace you completely.

You can stare right into in its eyes and neither of you will recognize the other, yet if you died it would replace you entirely. What if that version of you blinded everyone else? What happens when living proof of how good you could have been isn't enough for a redemption?

[raven-dor]

tell me you love me

in which bucky barnes is told some startling news on the phone…

PAIRING: bucky barnes x reader, bucky barnes x avenger!reader

WARNINGS: miscommunication, nosy roommates, sass, sam wilson teasing peter parker, fluff ending

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

🎶 : two hands - tate mcrae

AN: literally one of my favorite fics i've ever written!! also, this is a Avengers live in the tower AU, no civil war ever occurred, so yay!! ALSO - let me know if you want to be on my taglist!! i'd love to have you!!

It had been out of nowhere. You hadn’t even realized the gravity of the situation until you were met with silence from the other line. 

“What’s for dinner?” His gruff voice had shivers running down your spine.

“I don’t know.” You hummed, the phone tucked between your shoulder and ear as you walked down the grocery store aisles. “What are you craving?” 

“Burgers?” It was more of a question, he was waiting for you to confirm you were also craving said meal. He always did this, waiting for you to decide before he made his decision. It was not missed by you that earlier that week, you’d talked about how badly you craved a classic cheeseburger.

You laughed, the others in the aisle giving you annoyed looks, not that you minded. “You’re not as subtle as you think you are, Barnes.” 

“Oh?” You could tell he was holding back laughter. “You would think after all that time in HYRDA...” 

“Bucky!” You yelled, this time noticing the looks your fellow shoppers gave you. Whispering, you chuckled to yourself. “Don’t joke about that.” 

“Why not?” He was most certainly frowning. 

“If that���s how you want to cope…” You trailed off, looking at the price tag on the buns, eyes widening at the amount and quickly setting them back down. “You sleep well?” 

“Next to you? Always.” He sounded spirited, much more spirited than he’d been when you left him to go shopping. Good, you told yourself, he was too often found brooding alone, it was nice to hear him so… so mischievous. “You know I do, Doll.” 

Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, biting your bottom lip to keep from grinning too widely. “I know. Just wanted to hear you say it.” 

Grabbing the meat from the deli counter, you walked toward the checkout, frowning when you saw that the self-checkout kiosks were out of order. “Babe?” 

He hummed. 

“I’m gonna have to let you go, okay? The kiosks are out of order.” 

He groaned. “Again?”

You nodded as if he could see you. “Unfortunately.” 

“I’ll see you soon, then.” 

“See you soon. I love you.” The peace before the realization had been fleeting, reality hitting you like a truck. Almost instantly, your heart flipped, and your eyes widened.

Bucky had been dead silent, and you secretly hoped your voice had cut out, that the service had saved you, and he hadn’t heard it. 

Not that you didn’t mean it. You’d loved him for longer than you cared to admit, but with his past, you hadn’t wanted to rush anything. You didn’t want him to feel forced. Like right now.

“Buck?” You whispered, eyes welling at his lack of response. “Are you there?” Again, no response. You pushed the red button, hands shaking as the call disconnected.

Shit. 

Which led you to now, racing home without the food you’d promised. When the team had decided to all live in the tower together, they made a pact. If you asked anyone else, it had been more of a forced pact, thanks to Steve. 

Each Avenger would make dinner, alternating every night. Today had been your day, and now not only were you coming home empty-handed, but you were also planning to drop off the face of the Earth, which completely defeated the purpose of your job and its responsibilities. 

It was a wonder, you told yourself as you waited for the elevator doors to open, that Bucky hadn’t been there to meet you in the lobby, waiting for an explanation. Or worse, disgust on his perfect face. 

You kept your head down as you landed on the top floor, all but running to your room. Slamming the door behind you, you ordered Friday to bar everyone from entering.

The computer system spoke back, voice as posh as ever. “Does that include Mr. Barnes?” 

“Yes.” You huffed, heart thumping. “Especially Mr. Barnes.” 

“Has something happened?”

“You could say that.” Checking under your bed, the balcony, the closet, and the bathroom, a sigh of relief left you knowing that Bucky wasn’t already there, hiding.

Everything had been perfect, up until your slip. He asked to take it slow, mainly due to ‘not wanting to disrupt the team dynamic.’ You’d understood, and you’d also understood that he had another reason, one that he wouldn’t speak aloud, but that you both knew. 

He wanted to take it slow and slow did not contain saying ‘I love you’ four months after you started dating. 

A knock rang through your room, breaking you from your thoughts. Looking at the door with fear pumping through your veins, you waited for him to speak. 

“Y/N?” 

You’d almost sighed with relief. Almost. “Yeah?” 

“What’d you end up getting for dinner?” Nat called out. “Wilson’s asking.” 

“I-” Grabbing your wallet, you slid your credit card under the door. “Order whatever you want.” 

“Okay.” Nat sounded curious. “So, what happened?” 

“Why- why would you ask that?” 

“Other than the fact you won’t show your face, and Friday is barricading me from entering?” The super-spy sounded fed up. “What did he do?” 

“He?” Your voice was a mere squeak. 

“Yes, he. Everyone knows you two are dating, don’t act so surprised. It’s my job to know these sorts of things.” 

You glared at the door. “That’s not at all your job, Natasha.” 

“What’s going on?” 

You groaned, shoving your face into your pillow. At this point, the whole team would know your business by dinner. “Go away, Wanda.” 

“What’s happened?” The Sokovian whispered.

“Barnes did something,” Nat muttered. “Won’t say what exactly, but-” 

“Nat!” You yelled, lifting your head. “I can hear you, you know.” 

“Let us in, Y/N.” Wanda sounded as if she was frowning. “What did he do that was so bad-” 

“It wasn’t him.” You sighed. “It- it was me.” 

“What happened?” Wanda’s voice was gentle. “You can tell us.” 

“I really can’t.” You whined. “One second.” Grabbing a piece of paper from your desk, you scribbled down the infamous three words, slipping it under the door. “Shit, Y/L/N. Isn’t that a little soon?” 

Your eyes widened. “What the hell, you two? Why is Sam there?” 

Wanda sounded deeply apologetic. “It’s not just Sam.” 

“I’m here too.” Peter squeaked. 

“Me too.” Tony’s voice sounded much too entertained, and you glared at the door.

“Yeah!” Clint sounded suspiciously high like he was in the vents again. You reminded yourself to reprimand him when the dust cleared. 

“Y/N! Why are you hiding in your room?” Thor’s thunderous voice rang clear over the rest of the supposed crowd that had formed. 

“Thor.” Bruce sounded extremely annoyed. “We’re inside, you don’t need to shout.” 

“Yeah, what the green guy said.” Rhodey’s voice echoed. 

“Go away!” You yelled, sitting against the door. “I-” 

“What’s going on here?” Steve’s voice sounded distant, like he was walking down the hall. You squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for him to do what everyone else had done. 

But it never came. 

“Have any of you seen Buck? Last time I saw him, he was on the phone. Haven’t seen him since.” 

You were certain Nat and Tony were smirking. “Why don’t you ask Y/N.” 

“Why? Are they together?” 

Tony sounded like he was holding back tears, not from sadness, but from laughter. “After this? Questionable.” 

“Tony!” You yelled, smacking the door. “Shut up!” 

“Give me that.” Getting off the floor, you looked through the peephole, watching in horror as he read the paper. “Break it up, all of you.” Protests broke out, all of them yelling at Steve. “We’re not talking about this any longer. It’s not our business.” 

“C’mon-” 

Steve glared at the billionaire, and he instantly shut up. “Tony.” 

He raised his hands in defeat. “Fine, fine. What’s for dinner then?” 

“Whatever you want.” You yelled out. “Just use my card.”

Tony shook his head. “After the day you’ve had, it’s my treat.” 

You nodded, a faint smile gracing your lips. “Just leave the food at my door when it gets here.” 

“No.” Steve’s hands were on his hips, and you could see Peter and Wanda holding back laughter. He looked like a concerned father. “You will leave your room and have dinner with the rest of us.” 

“Yeah, Y/N.” Tony echoed, not even trying to hide his laughter. “C’mon out.” 

“Steve, please.” You begged. “I can’t see him right now.” 

“He’s not even here, дорогой (sweetheart),” Wanda yelled out. “Please come out, we’re worried about you.” 

“I am not leaving.” You shook your head. “You can’t make me.” 

The dinner table was quiet, the entirety of the Avengers (minus Bucky) staring at you with utter fascination. Well, more like a mix of pity, worry, and fascination. 

Peter cleared his throat, smiling kindly. “Don’t worry, Y/N. I did the same thing, and it all turned out fine.” 

That brought you some inkling of hope. “Really?” 

The teenager nodded. “She was very nice about it. We’re still friends.” 

Your face fell, dropping your head into your hands. The table erupted with laughter, and Peter’s cheeks grew bright red in record time. 

“Not exactly the smartest thing you could’ve said there, kid.” Tony snickered.

“Ease up, Tony,” Steve interjected. “He’s trying, unlike all of you.” 

“He meant well.” Vision finally spoke, much to everyone’s surprise. “There was no malice in his tone.” 

Clint smirked. “Yeah, Y/N. No malice. Does that bring you comfort?”

You raised your right hand, flipping him off.  

Sam shook his head. “I just want to eat, man. Eat, and see Bucky’s reaction.” 

Sitting up, you glared at the Falcon. “You’re excited for my demise, you psychopath.” 

“Not exactly.” 

“What’s-” The table turned around, dead silent as they stared at the Winter Soldier, who looked perfectly fine, content even. He stood in front of them with a bright smile, food in hand. “What’s going on?” 

“What’s going on?” Tony raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you tell us?” You wished your superpower was invisibility. Unfortunately, it was not, so you opted for sinking further into your seat. “Nothing happened recently you want to share?” 

His smile fell. “No?”

Sam groaned, standing up and pulling the food from the super soldier’s hands. “Please. I’m starving.” 

Nat laughed. “I thought you wanted to see his reaction.” 

“Reaction?” Bucky sounded confused. “Reaction to what, exactly?” 

Thor was the final push. “I love you!” 

“I love you too?” Bucky sat down, eyes brightening when he met yours. You quickly stared at your hands, which were placed in tight balls in your lap. 

“Not me. Y/N. The words Y/N-” 

Clint slapped a hand over Thor’s mouth, glaring. “That’s enough out of you, big guy.” 

“What?” Bucky tilted his head, staring at you, with what seemed to be a glimpse of hope in his gaze. “When did you-” 

“On the phone?” Nat interjected. “You were on the phone, and Y/N said-” 

“Nat.” You hissed. “Stop, please.” 

“Y/N?” Bucky looked at you. “What’s going on?” 

So the phone had cut out. The phone had cut out, meaning if you had just kept your big mouth shut, everything would have been fine. 

And if Thor hadn’t opened his mouth, maybe you could have made it out with your dignity. “Nothing, James.” Reaching out, you grabbed your order from the pile, the rest of the Avengers following suit. Bucky stayed still, staring at you intently. 

You tried to focus on your dinner, on the conversation that started after, but every time you looked up, he was staring at you with his ice-blue eyes. “Doll?” The table quieted, staring at the pair. “Can we talk?” 

You swallowed the food that you’d been chewing, nodding slowly. You felt like you were being marched to your death as you followed him out of the dining room. Sparing one last look at the dinner table, Wanda and Peter gave you a half-hearted thumbs up. 

The hall was dim, Bucky’s eyes bore into your soul as he waited for an explanation. “Tell me what happened.” 

“Nothing-” You grew small when he sighed, crossing his arms. “It’s really not that big of a deal.” 

“Yeah?” He smirked, but you could tell he was panicking. You told each other everything, you were sure he was breaking a sweat from your lack of transparency. “Then tell me.” You stayed silent, and he took a step forward, practically backing you up against the wall. “Please, Doll.” 

You were sure this was a nightmare. A horrible horrible nightmare. “We were on the phone… and I um… I may or may not have said that I love you.” He did not react, continuing to stare at you. That’d made you even more nervous, and you began to ramble as a result. “And you didn’t reply, so I panicked, and then I hung up. I came home and hid in my room and then everyone found out and then I found out you didn’t even hear it, and-” You took a shallow breath. “I don’t want you to feel rushed or forced because I want you to feel comfortable, because I really do-” You stopped, looking up at him hesitantly. “I really do love you.” He was fully grinning now, and you frowned. “Are you about to laugh at me?” 

He shook his head placing his hand on the wall above you as he leaned down. “No.” 

“No?” You scoffed, ignoring the way his eyes had darkened. “You’re smirking, and I’m being vulnerable and you’re- you-” You huffed, walking away from him. “Maybe we should just-” Escape had almost been achieved when his metal hand wrapped around your wrist, spinning you around. “Stop.” You felt trapped in a spell, a horrifyingly beautiful spell. He stared at you so intensely that your knees buckled. “Buck-” 

He was still grinning. “I love you too.” 

“I-” You smiled. “You do?” 

“C’mon Doll.” He teased, brushing his nose against yours as he reached for your lips. “Of course I do.”

“Yeah?” You whispered, still not believing this was real life. “You-” His lips were rushed; like he needed to kiss you to live. Placing his other arm around your waist, he pulled you impossibly close, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. He could have gone on kissing you senseless for hours, but you pulled away, gasping for air. “Buck-” 

“You are so considerate, too considerate even.” He whispered. “I did want to take things slow, you’re right.” 

You nodded. “If you-” 

“Did I-” He kissed you before you could finish your sentence. “Or did I not,” He kissed you so gently, so longingly. “Just tell you that I love you too?” 

You were positively weak in the knees. “You did.” 

“I did want to take things slow, but you…” He almost growled. “You happened.” 

“Oh?” You were grinning now, actually grinning. “I’m assuming I happened in a good way.” 

“In a perfect way.” He corrected, pushing a hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. “You’re too good for me, Doll. Don’t deserve you.” 

“I don’t know, Barnes.” You shook your head, kissing the corner of his mouth so lightly he could have sworn it never happened. “You’re pretty swell.” 

He rolled his eyes, pushing you away teasingly. “Never mind then.” 

You gasped, stalking back into the dining room, the Avengers observing from the safe distance the table provided. “In that case-” 

His hand wrapped around your wrist once more, pulling your lips to his instantly. Wolf whistles erupted, all of them laughing at the couple in front of them. Your hands rested on his chest, smiling as he pulled away, lips still touching. “Did you really have to do that?” 

He shrugged. “Just wanted another reason to kiss you.” 

“So sappy.” You teased. “What a charmer you are.” 

“Well,” He leaned toward your ear, whispering. “I aim to please.” 

“Break it up!” Sam yelled, mouth full of food. “I’m trying to eat here. Plus…” He pointed to Peter, laughing. “There’s kids present.” 

“I’m eighteen, Sam.” 

“Still a kid, Parker.” 

taglist:

[forhappysake]

We're Okay

A/N - Guys idk where this came from. I guess I'm just feeling emotional and inspired.

Content - After JJ admits her decade-long love for Spencer, you and your boyfriend have to have a conversation to calm both of your doubts and fears.

Warnings: spencer reid x fem!reader, season 14 spoilers, anxiety, mentions of typical BAU-level crime stuff, fluff at the end

You walked in the door slowly, cautionary even; afraid the smallest noise would bring reality crashing down on you. The car ride home had been completely silent, as neither of you bothered to turn on the radio. Spencer shuffled in behind you, the click of the lock making you wince as you did your best to avoid his gaze. You stripped off your coat, throwing it over the couch before walking straight into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind you. 

As you started the shower and stripped off your clothes, the evening’s events rushed back into your mind. Being involved in a hostage situation with an unstable unsub was one thing. JJ being held at gunpoint was worse. However, as if all that wasn’t enough, JJ admitting her decade-long hidden love for Spencer was the final nail in the coffin. As you climbed into the shower, you did your best to let the water wash away the thoughts running through your head. 

Unfortunately, your attempt was unsuccessful. As you dried off and wrapped yourself in a towel, your mind raced. You’d been dating Spencer for nearly a year and a half. The two of you had just recently moved in together. Having known him and JJ for at least half a decade, you knew they were close, but you never would have guessed this was coming. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same way she did. If so, what did this mean for your relationship?

After stalling in the bathroom for so long that goosebumps dotted your freshly dried body, you mustered up the courage to slip out of the bathroom and into the bedroom that you shared with Spencer. As you walked across the hallway, you could see his silhouette sitting on the living room couch, head bent forward. You couldn’t tell if he was reading or in deep thought, but you decided that either option was better than the alternative: trying to have a conversation. 

You snuck into the bedroom, gently turning on the bedroom light and letting your eyes adjust to the warm glow of your room. You meandered to the closet, pulling out a simple t-shirt and shorts to sleep in. Slipping into your pajamas and stealing a glance at yourself in the vanity mirror, you noticed one of the many images covering the tabletop. 

A framed photograph from less than a year ago of JJ, Will, Spencer, and yourself with the boys on a weekend hiking trip. You felt a pang of guilt in your chest and wondered if Will had any idea what was going on in JJ’s head. You shook the thought away, reminding yourself that you had bigger problems of your own to deal with. You turned back to the bed, sliding under the covers and turning off the light. Despite your distress, you were exhausted and you found yourself losing track of time and drifting off to sleep in mere minutes. 

*  *  *

You awoke to the sound of the bedroom door latching shut. You rolled over, blinking your eyes open in an attempt to sneak a peak at your bedside alarm clock. You’d already been asleep for three hours and Spencer was just now coming to bed. It was well after midnight, and you knew that meant he had been up thinking about something. You figured it would be best not to push the subject after everything that had happened. 

With your eyes shut, you waited to feel the familiar sensation of Spencer climbing into bed. Instead, you felt his weight at the foot of the bed, as if he had perched himself on the end. You tried not to think much of this and did your best to fake sleep. However, it soon became apparent that Spencer was on to you. 

“I know you’re awake,” he said gently. His voice was gruff from the hours he’d spent in silence. Spencer waited before speaking again, “I think we should talk about what happened.” 

There it is, you thought. Your stomach sank as your eyes fluttered open. You rolled over to face him, leaning up on your arms. It was then you noticed that he was still in his suit. His unkempt hair fell over his eyes and you couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for the disheveled man in front of you. “Alright,” you relented, still refusing to meet his eyes, “what do you want to talk about?”

Spencer rolled his neck, tension evident in his movements. “I want to know how you feel about what was said earlier,” he said. For the first time in hours, you met his eyes, trying to gauge his sincerity. You found no signs of dishonesty, so you fell back on the bed, letting out a dramatic sigh. 

“I don’t know, Spencer,” you groaned. “I definitely was surprised. I definitely wasn’t thrilled.” Spencer nodded, moving some hair away from his eyes as you spoke. “But,” you started again, “it’s not like we can go back and change it now.” 

He reached an arm out, putting a hand over the covers on top of your knee. “I know,” he whispered, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

You scoffed a bit at his sincerity and his innocence, meeting his eyes once more. “And how do you feel about it?” you asked. 

Spencer bit his lip in thought. You could tell you had caught him off guard with the question, and he seemed to be calculating his response. “Can I be honest with you?” he said. 

You raised your eyebrows, the nervous feeling in your stomach intensifying. Is this where he tells you he feels the same way and leaves for good? You pushed your thoughts to the side. “Always,” you whispered.

He sighed, laying back on the bed so he was next to you. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and you wanted nothing more than to curl into his warmth. You knew this wasn’t the time, so you held yourself back and held your breath, awaiting his response. 

“First, I was confused,” Spencer explained, eyes locked on the ceiling. “I haven’t thought about JJ like that in over ten years. Frankly, I never knew she thought of me that way, so I was caught off-guard.” 

So he did have a crush on her at one time, you thought. You were ready to close your eyes in defeat, to slip off the bed and out of the apartment and never come back when he cleared his throat. 

“But then,” he started once more, “I had a quick epiphany of all the moments she’d gone out of her way for me, and I could understand where she was coming from.” You turned to look at him, watching his eyes scan the ceiling as he tried to come up with his next statements. 

“And?” you asked, prompting him to continue. 

“And then,” he continued your previous statement, “I was terribly appalled.” 

Your head, which had turned to the ceiling, snapped back in his direction. You felt your eyebrows raise and your jaw drop open a bit in surprise. “Appalled?” you asked, confusion evident in your expression. 

“Appalled,” Spencer echoed, sitting up on the edge of the bed once more and looking back at you. 

“Why?” you asked. 

Spencer shook his head, looking around the room. “I’ve been thinking about that for the last couple hours, and I’ve come up with a lot of reasons,” he mused. “I know she was in a tight place, but Will deserves better than that. The boys deserve better than that. But aside from them,” he leaned over on the bed, intertwining his fingers with yours, “I couldn’t stop thinking about what you must have thought. I was so afraid of your reaction and of losing you.”

Despite your evident emotional state as tears pooled in your eyes, you tried to play it off. “Spencer, this isn’t about me,” you reminded him. 

“Yes,” he said, lying next to you, “it is.” Spencer ran a hand through his hair, pulling some curls out of his eyes. “Everyone knows how much I love you. I know how scary something like this can be. But you have to know that I have no idea where this came from and that anything JJ and I had died, on my end, long before I ever met you.” 

You glanced over at him, the sincerity in his voice had moved you to believe him. For a moment, you forgot about JJ and Will, the boys, and the implications of her words. You offered his fingers a small squeeze. “So we’re okay?” you asked in a tiny voice. 

“More than,” Spencer whispered. 

He rolled on his side to face you and you mirrored his actions. He wrapped his arms tight around your body, the textured material of his suit jacket pressed against your cheek. A gentle kiss was pressed to your forehead and you found yourself falling back into sleep. After several minutes passed, you felt Spencer’s voice rumble through his chest for a final time before he succumbed to sleep: “Ever since I met you,” he mumbled, smoothing some stray hairs away from your face, “it’s always been you.”

[unintentionalseductress]

The Spaces In Between

Warnings: MDNI, sex, threesome, DVP, creampies, cum tasting, mentions of death, angst, Zayne mildly bullying Dawnbreaker Summary: A celestial event strands you in Dawnbreaker's reality. With him and Zayen in such close quarters, things get a litte wild. A/n: This blog used to be called nanamiscocksleeve! Hello everyone! Here is it, as promised! I will say, this took way longer than expected. Due to some not so fun real life stuff, I had to balance out writing this in between but it's here. Not really proofread.

A streak of moonlight peeks through the cracked glass windowpane, getting lost in the brightness of the well-lit living room. You shuffle uncomfortably on the sofa as your eyes flick back and forth between the two men on opposite sides of the coffee table. Your mind tries to rationalize the situation, attempting to convince you that stranger situations have happened, yet none come to mind as you wait in an achingly familiar living room that you simultaneously have and haven’t been in before.

Zayne eyes the man facing him with suspicion, his slim fingertips interlocked contemplatively as though trying to judge his next move. The other man eyes him with an identical expression of cautious appraisal. His resemblance to Zayne was slightly unnerving, from the part of his hair down to the last strand of whiskey bleeding into the green of his irises. 

His clothes were all black, save for the tie, which had small white polka dots on it, and his brow was furrowed as he looked at you and Zayne. You clear your throat and attempt to break the silence.

“Sir,” you say, and the man turns his head in your direction. “I’m very sorry that we’ve intruded on your house. But you must understand, we’re just as confused as you are.” You look at Zayne, who imperceptibly nods his head in agreement. Taking encouragement from this, you continue. 

“It’s all such a blur. See, Zayne and I were out, trying to look at the lunar eclipse.” You nod towards the window, where the faintest glimpse of the moon was visible, tinged slightly red from the eclipse. “And the next second, we were at your door. Now, I’m not sure why Zayne’s fingerprint was able to open it, but to be honest, this house bears an uncanny resemblance to his.”

You laugh, realizing you sounded crazy, then deciding this night couldn’t get any worse, you attempt a jab at humor. “You two don’t know each other, do you? I mean, you could pass as twins.” You smile, then falter as both men stare stonily at each other. A moment passes before Zayne speaks. 

“Know isn’t the right word,” he says in a strained voice, keeping his eyes trained on his doppelganger.

“Agreed,” the man says, his voice identical to Zayne’s intonations. “If anything, we are a figment of each other’s imaginations.”

“Huh?” Confusion scrunches your face.

“I don’t see him often, but he sometimes appears in my dreams.” Zayne’s shoulders are tense, and his jaw is tight. “You’re called Dawnbreaker, correct?”

At the mention of the name, the man’s head jerks up sharply, his eyes narrowing. “Where did you hear that from?”

“That’s what the people call you, whenever you appear in my dreams.” 

“Dreams?” Dawnbreaker scoffs. “Or nightmares?” 

Zayne’s hand forms a fist, and you look at him empathetically. “Zayne.” You cover his hand with yours, and strangely, Dawnbreaker’s gaze briefly flicks to your interlaced fingers before returning to your face. 

“You’ve been having nightmares?”

Zayne sighs. “Not all the time. But when I do have a nightmare, he’s always there.” Zayne jerks his chin at Dawnbreaker.

“What happens in your nightmares, Zayne?” you ask probingly, hoping he wouldn’t brush you off. Zayne’s eyes finally make contact with yours and there’s worry in their depths. 

“It’s the same thing. I’ll be doing normal things, like going to work, texting you, and planning an evening together. But I can feel him, right at the periphery. Watching. Then the point of view changes. I’m no longer looking at things with my own eyes but with his.” Zayne looks aggrieved as he recounts his nightmares. 

“And each time, I hear begging voices, asking him to help them with their pain. And you killed them.” Zayne’s words are accusatorily and flung at Dawnbreaker, who remains impassive. A chill runs down your spine. You look at the man who could have been a clone of your compassionate boyfriend, and it seems impossible. This man couldn’t be a killer. Could he?

Sadness gathers in Dawnbreaker’s eyes, and he averts his gaze. “I did it to ease their pain. Little can be done when the transformation has gotten that bad.”

“Transformation?” Morbid curiosity fills you, and you look at Dawnbreaker beseechingly, waiting for him to defend himself against Zayne’s accusation.

Dawnbreaker’s expression is unyielding as he assesses Zayne. “It must be so easy for you to judge when you live in an ideal world where Wanderers aren’t a source of infection.” 

“Judge?” Zayne’s eyes narrow. “I’d hardly call killing people needing judgment.”

“They were in pain. In your world, your happy, safe world, Wanderers aren’t causes of illness. They can cause destruction, sure, but do they bring disease to your city, like they did to mine?” Dawnbreaker gestures outside his window, where you can just make out the grim silhouette of his version of Linkon City. 

“Wanderers don’t carry disease-” Zayne begins, but Dawnbreaker cuts him off. 

“They do in my world. And there’s no cure. Once you’re infected, you begin to change into a Wanderer. The process is painful. There’s no slowing it down. You think I’m killing humans for sport? I did those people a merciful favor.”

Zayne is silen,t but it’s obvious he’s shaken by this information. His gaze wanders to Dawnbreaker’s hands, which bear faint, discolored, lines that run across the backs before being lost to the hem of his jacket sleeves. Uncomfortably, he rubs the back of his neck, giving himself time to think.

“If you could end someone’s pain, wouldn’t you do it? Knowing they will suffer, will lose their humanity once the transformation is complete, isn’t a clean death better than being hunted like a beast?”

You consider his words in stunned silence, shuffling awkwardly next to Zayne. 

“I don’t turn up in your dreams intentionally.” Dawnbreaker’s voice cuts through the quiet, and both you and Zayne look at him sharply. 

“Oh?” Zayne asks with a hint of disbelief. 

“It’s out of my hands. I dream when you dream. And your dreams…” Dawnbreaker sighs, as though wondering if he should admit this or not. “Your dreams…are my only respite.” There’s longing in his tone, and you feel a stab of sympathy for him.

Zayne blinks, clearly at a loss for words. “Respite?” he asks, disconcerted. 

“Yes. Similar to how you see things through my eyes, I can also see your world through yours.” Dawnbreaker’s expression is so solemn that it makes your heart clench. If Zayne had ever looked that way, you’d instantly be pulling him into a hug. It took every ounce of willpower for you to not comfort Dawnbreaker, because despite it all, you didn’t know him, no matter how much he looked like Zayne. 

“I see you going about your day at Akso Hospital. Greeting your coworkers. By the way, I’m also a doctor.” Dawnbreaker adds this last bit of information as an afterthought. He hesitates before continuing. “And…you and I…bear the same name.”

Zayne’s lips part, but no sound comes out as he processes this tidbit. Unperturbed, Dawnbreaker continues. 

“Before I was called Dawnbreaker, I was known as Dr. Zayne. Your dreams…allow me to see what my world could have been like if the Wanderers hadn’t caused a plague.”

A pang of sympathy punches you in the gut, and it’s clear that Dawnbreaker’s words are affecting Zayne too. His eyes have softened as he regards what has been said. 

“I’m essentially an alternate version of you, Zayne,” Dawnbreaker continues. “Now, I’m not sure how you ended up in my world. It hardly matters. But, may I say something, if you’ll allow it?”

Zayne nods, listening intently. 

“Everything you have in your life. Your job, your friends. Her.” Dawnbreaker gestures towards you, and your heart skips a beat. “Don’t take them for granted. You have everything I can only wish for.” 

His face carries a haunting expression that makes you ache deep within. What was it in his voice? Regret? Grief? Anguish? They all seemed to mix into something unique as he articulates his tale, like a little songbird vocalizing over a graveyard. 

“I know at least in this world, I have to walk my path alone. I will never know the peace you get to experience every day. I didn’t intend to don this mantle of Dawnbreaker. But I was given very little choice in the matter. I didn’t want to be a killer. But knowing what happens to captured Wanderers that were formerly humans…they’re taken away, experimented on, before being stripped for parts, and disposed of like garbage. At least with what I do…”

Dawnbreaker reflexively opens his palm and stares at it, wondering, before continuing in a more resolved voice. “I’m able to grant them a dignified death. Their bodies remain intact and human enough that their families can give them a proper funeral.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m no hero. But I believe this is the best outcome they could have asked for.”

You swallow, feeling a lump in your throat as you do so. Zayne had gone quiet, his mouth a grim line. Beneath the shock and skepticism, you see a familiar flicker of empathy come into his face, the kind he reserved for critical patients without a positive outcome.  Somehow, you felt like an outsider as you watched the two men in silence. There was an inexplicable bond between them, and it felt like in the game of circumstance, Dawnbreaker had drawn the short end of the stick. Their roles could have been easily reversed. 

Then what? Would it be Zayne sitting opposite you while Dawnbreaker held your hand? Even their scars were identical, each dip of mottled skin exactly placed. You felt for the poor man, trapped in this nightmare that he couldn’t escape. Zayne, at least, got a reprieve when he woke up. You wondered what happened in Dawnbreaker’s dreams on the nights Zayne didn’t have nightmares. Did he sleep dreamlessly? Was that more blissful than peering into a world where it felt like Zayne got everything that he didn’t dare to even think of?

You’re interrupted from your train of thought by Dawnbreaker who suddenly stands up. “It’s late,” he says shortly. 

“Are you kicking us out?” Zayne asks tartly, as though he’d been preparing for the boot. Dawnbreaker tsks and shakes his head no.

“Don’t be ridiculous. At this time of night? The Wanderers would pick your bones clean before you even made it to the end of the road.” He looks conflicted, then seemingly finding no other justification, says, “You can stay in the guestroom until you figure out how to get back.”

“Are you sure? We wouldn’t want to intrude.” The words slip out of your lips, and Dawnbreaker looks at you with such intensity that you flush. 

“I’d rather not have my doppelganger wandering the roads. It could get very difficult to explain. Stay here for the time being. We’ll figure this out.”

“Thank you,” Zayne says the words with quiet sincerity. “I understand this isn’t ideal.”

“It’s not,” Dawnbreaker agrees easily, and it almost makes you laugh. “Come, I’ll show you where the guestroom is.”

Zayne raises an eyebrow, and this time, you fail to stifle the giggle. Clearly, being told where the guestroom was in his own house was pushing Zayne to his limit. Dawnbreaker’s expression remains neutral but you can’t help but notice the redness in his ears, the same reaction Zayne has when he’s embarrassed.

“We can find it by ourselves, thank you,” Zayne says magnanimously, and Dawnbreaker nods awkwardly. 

“Well, good night then.” Zayne takes your hand and starts to lead you away, and you steal a glance over your shoulder at Dawnbreaker who watches you with a look of longing.

“Sleep well,” he says, and that’s the last thing you hear from him before Zayne closes and locks the bedroom door. 

Once inside the privacy of the room, Zayne sinks onto the mattress, covering his face with his hands. Sensing the stress he’s carrying, you sit next to him and knead his shoulders, hoping to relieve some of his tension. 

“Zayne,” you murmur soothingly, trying to get as close to him as possible. He removes his hands, and you’re startled to see the beginnings of anxiety settling into them, his pupils dilating. 

There’s a tinge of distress in his voice as he speaks.

“I don’t remember when I first started seeing Dawnbreaker in my dreams. But each time, all I can remember is being scared. I never imagined that I’d meet him face-to-face. I thought he was something that only existed in my imagination. Like the boogeyman that small children believe is hiding in their closet. I didn’t think he was real.” 

You feel your heart clench at the sight of Zayne like this and embrace him, pressing into his back as your arms wrap around his chest. “Yes, I can imagine how disturbing this must be for you.”

“It was one thing to have him exist only in my dreams. Now I find out he’s not only real, but also an alternate version of me? He has my name, he lives in my house, he’s even a doctor. What next? Is he dating an alternate version of you in this world?” 

You frown, trying to imagine what you might be like in this dimension. “He didn’t mention an alternate version of me. And Zayne,” you add in a quieter voice, “I don’t think he has anyone in his life.”

Zayne contemplates your words. “What makes you say that?”

“All that talk about not taking the people in your life for granted, including me. I think he’s been by himself for quite some time. It can’t be easy, living with that kind of loneliness. You had Greyson and Yvonne, and even Dr. Noah to talk to. I think Dawnbreaker is alone. Like, alone.” You emphasize the word, and after a moment, Zayne nods his head in understanding.

“That part about him doing the mercy killings for humans. Do you think it’s true that they turn into Wanderers in this world?”

“I don’t see why he would lie about that.” 

Broodingly, Zayne continues to speak as though he’s trying to organize the jumble of thoughts in his mind. “It must be awful for him, though. Being a doctor yet unable to save all those people. I know if I were in that situation, I’d definitely find it weighing on my conscience.”

“You feel bad for him.” You state the obvious plainly.

“Of course I do. But at the same time, he makes me uneasy.”

You nod, then press a kiss to the nape of his neck. “Well, we’re stuck here. Worrying doesn’t make any sense. And it doesn’t look like he means us any harm. We’ll find our way out of here.”

Zayne hums, then covers your hands with his. You smile wanly, and Zayne feels the movement against his skin, your warm breath steadying him. “Let’s try to get some sleep. We’ll figure things out in the morning.”

You nod and allow Zayne to pull you under the covers, his hand resting on your back as he draws as close as he can. 

“I’m glad I’m not alone,” he mumbles against your hair, and after some time, Zayne manages to fall asleep.

You, on the other hand, struggle. Unwilling to pull away from Zayne’s grasp, you remain as still as you can, but your mind is rolling over the recent events in your head like a washing machine. You understood Zayne’s initial intimidation when it came to Dawnbreaker. No one ever wanted to meet the object of their nightmares. But at the same time, you couldn’t stop thinking about Dawnbreaker’s existence.

Some part of you pitied him.  You wondered what it must feel like to be the person people find to meet their ultimate end. And with no one to talk to, hiding his identity, and pretending he was a normal person, how was Dawnbreaker even functioning on the whole? 

Then there was the fact that he and Zane were absolute physical copies of each other. It was a double whammy, at least for you, to see the face of the person you loved so dearly in so much torment. When you had met Zayne, you hadn’t imagined loving anyone else as fiercely as you loved him. Zayne was yours, inextricably, irrevocably, inexplicably. You understood killing, because deep down, you knew you’d kill for Zayne. Anything that tried to harm him would need to go through you. But how were you supposed to protect him, console him, from himself?

Dawnbreaker didn’t seem like a threat, but the fear in Zayne’s body was real. You hear the sound of his peaceful breathing, and your heart constricts. The most precious thing in your life was asleep in your arms. And his twin was right outside that door. 

You’re not sure how long you were awake, but soon a fragile light filtered through the curtains. Dawn had broken on Dawnbreaker’s house. You carefully pull away from Zayne’s embrace and pad out of the room. 

You almost jump in shock when you see Dawnbreaker seated on the sofa with a cup of coffee in his hands. His eyes look at you over wire-rimmed glasses, appearing vexed.

“Why do you keep reacting like I don’t live here?” he asks dryly, setting his coffee down. You blush, realizing he was right, although you couldn’t quite explain why you were so jittery around him; he hadn’t shown any behavior thus far to do so. 

“I’m sorry. It’s just…Zayne’s asleep in the bedroom, and then I find you in here. It’s all very uncanny.”

Dawnbreaker nods then gestures at the living room. “Would you like to sit?”

You hesitate, then gingerly sit down at the same spot you were in last night.

“Why are you up so early? Don’t tell me you’re a night owl.”

“An astute observation.” Dawnbreaker’s lips twitch, and he sips more coffee. “I have an early shift at the hospital.”

“Ah. You and Zayne are alike in that manner.” You glance out the glass doors that lead to the balcony. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve woken up and he’s already left for work. Barely makes a sound.”

“How considerate of him. I imagine it would be more difficult for him to leave if you’re awake.”

You frown at the comment. “Why’s that?”

Dawnbreaker seems to consider his words before carefully continuing. “Well, I think that if you were awake, he’d be very tempted to stay and talk. Or perhaps do nothing and just hold your hand. It’s not easy to leave behind the person you love, no matter how short or temporary it may be. At least, that’s how I’d feel.”

As the last few words leave his lips, Dawnbreaker’s eyes widen, and he hastily busies himself with his coffee cup. You observe a faint flush creeping up his neck and into his ears. 

He drains his cup then straightens. Avoiding eye contact, he briskly says, “I’m not sure what my schedule looks like. But I’ll definitely be back tonight. There’s food in the fridge. And please don’t go outside. This isn’t the Linkon City you’re used to.”

Before you could respond, Dawnbreaker had already grabbed his coat and was at the door. It clicks shut, and you’re left in silence, wondering what had just happened. 

The day was spent in a whirlwind of thought. Towards the evening, your brain felt like a dried sponge left in the sun for too long, wrinkled and desiccated, as you went through the events with Zayne again. 

“Zayne, please,” you begged, looking for a break. “We have talked and talked and talked, and I can’t think of anything else to add.” You lie back on the sofa, shielding your face from the rays of the setting sun.

“You made me try resonating with random things in the house, hoping it would cause a tear in between the dimensions, and nothing worked. As remarkable as the situation is, Dawnbreaker’s house is a normal house, with perfectly normal items.”

Nonplussed, Zayne looks at your supine form and sighs. “You’re right, as much as I hate to admit it. We’ve been at this for hours. Let’s refresh our minds. Would you like some tea?”

Zayne walks into the kitchen to boil the kettle. “What time did Dawnbreaker say he’d be back?”

You shake your head. “I don’t know. He didn’t mention.” 

“Hmph. If he got pulled into a last-minute surgery…” His eyes flick to the large clock mounted on the wall. “We can forget about seeing him before midnight.”

Right on cue, you hear a ping from the front door as it unlocks, revealing Dawnbreaker, who’s holding several bags.

“Did you go shopping?” You ask him as he sets them down on the living room carpet. He nods, his glasses slightly askew. He sniffs the air curiously.

“Tea? How delightful,” he comments before seeing Zayne standing before the stove. Zayne raises an eyebrow at him. 

“Yes, I know how to brew tea,” he says patronizingly, and Dawnbreaker scoffs, but doesn’t comment. Even though Dawnbreaker posed them no threat, Zayne still seemed to be wary of the man. 

“I picked up a few things for both of you.” Dawnbreaker hands you the bags, and you peek inside, spying toiletries and some clothes. 

“Thank you,” you say gratefully. 

“I had to guess some of your sizes, so my apologies if some things don’t fit quite right.”

Zayne carries a tray laden with 3 cups of steaming tea and puts them on the coffee table. When Dawnbreaker stares at him, Zayne smirks, some of his usual sass coming back.

“Despite our introductions, I’m not a barbarian.” He pushes a cup towards Dawnbreaker, who sips it with dignity.

“You said it, not me,” he says stiffl,y and Zayne rolls his eyes before settling next to you. He rummages through the bags.

“I’d Venmo you but…I don’t think my bank supports interdimensional transactions,” he quips, and miraculously, Dawnbreaker smiles at him. You feel hope blossom in your chest as you see the small interaction, and there’s a brief moment of peace, until Zayne looks further into the bag and his eyes darken. 

“Why did you buy panties for my girlfriend?” Zayne asks in quiet anger as he tears his gaze away from the bag, glaring at Dawnbreaker.

Dawnbreaker calmly puts down the teacup, although he looks chagrined. You, on the other hand, would have turned a brilliant shade of red.

“He didn’t!” You look at Dawnbreaker. “Did you?”

With an effort, Dawnbreaker manages to compose his voice into a tone of practicality. “Zayne, be serious. It’s an essential item she’ll need. I wasn’t exactly out buying thongs.” 

“Ok, stop it! Both of you.” You snatch the bag from Zayne’s hand, blushing furiously, but you weren’t sure who you were upset with. You direct your words at both of them.

“Dawnbreaker, thank you, but you should have asked first. And Zayne,” you round on him, and Zayne’s eyes widen at your demeanor. “Thank you for being chivalrous, but I did need new underwear anyway. Now, if you two don’t mind, I’d rather not be here if all you’re going to do is try to one-up each other!”

And with that, you flee, but not before you hear Zayne address the elephant in the room. 

“How did you know what kind to buy anyway?” His voice is dripping with distaste, and you freeze in the hallway where they can’t see you. Dawnbreaker responds after a gap in a constrained voice. 

“You always dream about the same ones. It wasn’t hard.” 

You cover your mouth to muffle the groan of humiliation that leaves your throat before disappearing into the guestroom. After what felt like an eternity, you hear the door being cracked, and Zayne enters. He looks sheepishly at you while you stare crossly at him from the bed.

“I’m sorry if I overreacted.” He mumbles and gathers you in his arms. You’re about to reply snarkily, but feel the bite drain out of you as his chin rests on top of your head. 

“I thought you’d come sooner. Were you guys still talking after I left?”

Zayne’s embrace tightens suddenly, and you look at him curiously.

“What?”

Zayne looks conflicted as to whether or not to tell you, and you give him a little shake. “C’mon! Nothing could top being given panties from a stranger.”

He runs a hand down the back of his neck. “You might be surprised.”

You freeze. “What?”

Zayne looks uncomfortable, his eyes darting about the room as though trying to decide what to fix his gaze on. You push him away and flash him a warning look. Giving up, he divulges the information. 

“I was asking him what other…things he saw in my dreams.”

You freeze. “...Oh.” Dreading the answer, you ask anyway. “And?”

Zayne looks ashamed as he admits the words. “Well, I dream of you. A lot to be honest.” He smiles reassuringly, but it’s feeble in quality. “And sometimes those dreams aren’t…PG.”

Your heartbeat quickens, and you avert your eyes, although you didn’t find this surprising. “Well, that’s normal, right? Couples sometimes dream…spicy things about each other.”

“Yes, but…You’re completely naked in my dreams. And I’ve dreamt of us making love, of…giving you oral.” Zayne’s face is a brilliant shade of siren red, and he fiddles with the edge of the blanket. “And Dawnbreaker has unknowingly been privy to those dreams.”

You feel all the color drain from your face. “What?” You point at the closed door. “Dawnbreaker has seen me naked?”

Zayne nods emphatically, and you cover your face in shame, wishing the earth would swallow you whole.

“Oh my god! That’s so…so…” You struggle to think of a word.

“Violating?” Zayne suggests, and you nod vigorously. 

“Yes! I mean…that’s so disturbing, watching your dreams, those dreams, like it’s some kind of adult video! How can I face him? How-” You cut off abruptly as you notice Zayne’s lacking demeanor.

“Why aren’t you angrier?” You ask, and there’s conflict in his expression.

“I completely understand your reaction. And it’s valid, 100% warranted. I felt the exact way you’re feeling right now when he told me. However…” His voice trails, and you press him.

“Yes?”

“I genuinely don’t think he did it on purpose. I mean…he has no control over it. He only saw it because I was dreaming it. And it’s difficult to wake up from a dream. You get what I’m saying?”

You take a moment to consider, feeling chills ripple down your body at the thought that a man you had met less than a day ago knew intimately how your body looked. You cross your arms, as though trying to cover yourself, like Dawnbreaker could somehow see you right now. 

“Dawnbreaker and I spoke at length, and he explained himself and his situation. He doesn’t mean any harm. It just so happens to be a set of rare and unique circumstances.” Zayne reaches out to pull you back against him, and you do so willingly. 

“I was thinking about what you said yesterday. About him being lonely. After our talk today, I’m starting to think you’re right. He has been on his own for quite a while.” His hand caresses your back. “I don’t like that he knows what you look like. But at the same time, it’s out of his hands.”

You hide your face in Zayne’s neck as he speaks. He sighs, and it ruffles your hair. “Just pretend it was me.”

“Excuse me?” You squawk, dumbfounded. 

“I mean. Technically speaking, he is me. Perhaps, we can deal with this by pretending it was me? Does that make you feel a little better?”

You consider, and strangely enough, it does. Thinking of Dawnbreaker as an interdimensional version of Zayne made it less awkward than thinking of him as a stranger. “Yeah. It’s just another you.” Your nose settles into the slope of his shoulder, and he tenderly strokes your hair. 

“For the record, I’m also very weirded out by this situation. I feel like a voyeur and an exhibitionist at the same time.”

You burst out laughing, feeling your shoulders shake with pure mirth. After all the gathering tension, it was freeing to laugh like this.“Ah, so I’m dating a pervert.” You wrap your arms around his neck. “How unfortunate.”

There’s humor in Zayne’s eyes as he pulls you closer. “I can only blame you. You bring it out in me.”

You're surprised by the fluid movement of his lips as they trail down your neck, leaving a kiss that feels like a feather was brushed against your skin. You twitch at the tickling sensation, then inhale sharply as Zayne leaves a wet, open-mouthed kiss just below your ear. 

 “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “But after all that talking with Dawnbreaker. I need to know you’re mine.”  His hands gently trace the contours of your body, slipping under the hem of your shirt and cupping your breasts, sending sparks of heat into your system. You don’t protest as the blood rushes into your ears, humming in your veins, coming alive under his experienced touch. 

“Zayne…” His name is a whisper as you feel the familiar rise of liquid heat in your belly, and the quickening of your heartbeat. 

“Nothing has made sense in the last 24 hours. But you make sense.” He sucks your neck, leaving a small, red, bruise. “I need you.”

It’s how he says it, with that tone like he’s drowning, and you’re a breath of fresh air bringing him back from the depths. You hiss as he leaves another mark. 

“Sorry.” Zayne soothes the sting with a soft, wet lick. “You’re mine. No matter who’s seen you.” 

Possessiveness spills into his tone, and he swipes the pads of his thumbs in circles over your pebbled nipples. Tingles begin at the tips and radiate down your spine, your limbs, and your sex. A familiar throb starts to grow between your legs, and you sigh, an uncontrollable little mewl falling from your lips.

Self-conscious, your eyes fly open, and you cover your mouth. Caught between semi-arousal and the need for decency, you glance at the closed door. “Zayne.” You cup his cheeks. 

“What if Dawnbreaker hears us?” You knew the only reason you mentioned it was because you were relying on Zayne’s impressive ability to control and rein in both your flowing desires. If he wasn’t interested in maintaining decorum, your own will would be swept away like sand under the tide. Zayne’s eyes are darkening at the edges, his breath becoming ragged, and he pinches your nipples with the perfect pressure that has you squeezing your eyes shut and letting out another helpless noise of pleasure. 

“Let him,” he growls, bringing a surge of stunned arousal into your belly. Zayne leans you down on the bed, lifting your shirt up to suckle. When he lets go, the little peak is moist with his spit. 

“The dreams apparently don’t come with sound.” 

You slept soundly that night, exhausted from Zayne’s passionate lovemaking. When you woke up, your limbs were tangled up with Zayne’s, held possessively against him while his breath fluttered your hair. Your body was covered in bite marks, and you felt your face flush as you remembered everything; the teasing touches and perfectly learned movements of his fingers as he had brought you to the edge over and over. Your reluctance to be vocal had somehow fueled his determination, and your inhibitions had all but vanished as he’d deliciously licked and nibbled every part of you until you were a mewling mess of pleasure under him. 

Your body still had that wonderful ache of being used, and as you stretch, your internal muscles instinctively squeeze together as something slippery shifts inside you. Zayne had no reservations last night, his rigid length plunging into you in a sweet rhythm of ecstasy, spilling himself into you each time until your slit was messy and slick from your couplings. 

It was rare to see him like this, throwing caution to the wind and letting himself finish inside you without protection. Your stomach growled noisily, and you realized you hadn’t eaten last night. 

The clock on the wall showed that it was around 5:30 in the morning. Early enough that Dawnbreaker might not be up yet. You couldn’t bear to face him knowing that he would have heard everything that happened last night. You try to use Zayne’s suggestion of pretending Dawnbreaker was just another him, but the thought just made things worse given the cisrcumstances, the idea of someone listening to your most intimate moments.

You wonder if Dawnbreaker had been appalled by the noise. Or if he had found it welcoming. The latter sends a rush down your spine, a curious thrill filling your being at the thought. Had he tried to ignore it? Or would the noise have turned him on? And if it had, was he the type to touch himself? 

You shake yourself mentally, feeling shame at your indecent thoughts. Another pang of hunger shoots through you, and you carefully get up from the bed. Your clothes from last night were scattered all over the floor, and you resignedly pull out the fresh ones from the bag Dawnbreaker had brought in last night, feeling the irony as you tug on the fresh cotton panties. 

Once dressed, you silently slip into the hallway, thanking the gods when you see the living room is empty. Only the rustling of leaves from the tree outside could be heard. You find some instant ramen in one of the cabinets, boil the water, and let it sit. You had just taken a few forkfuls when you heard noise in the hallway, and you whipped around to see Dawnbreaker come into view, fully dressed for his day.

He freezes when he sees you, then blinks, eyes flicking away as he tries to appear nonchalant, deftly turning on the coffeemaker, grabbing a cup, and drumming his fingers impatiently on the counter as he waits. You slurp your noodles, trying to ignore the increasing thumps of your heartbeat and the prickly heat creeping down from the nape of your neck. 

The silence drags on deafeningly, until, unable to take it anymore, you mumble, “Nice morning, isn’t it?”

Dawnbraker appeared to be fascinated with his coffeemaker as he didn’t look up as it started to gurgle and the aromatic liquid began to pool into the carafe. Acting unconcerned, he says, “It’s a usual morning, I’d say. But I understand why it’s good for you.”

You unexpectedly inhale the broth, spluttering undignifiedly as you choke, tears welling in your eyes as you set down the ramen. Instantly, a glass of water is handed to you, and you gulp it down gratefully. 

“I’m sorry,” you offer, unable to look at him from the embarrassment. Your whole body felt like it was being twisted and knotted on the inside, and the prickling had now slithered down from the nape of your neck and spread out along your spine and limbs, causing goosebumps to erupt in its wake. Then, seemingly unable to control yourself, you add, “I hope we didn’t disturb you last night.”

Dawnbreaker adds milk to his coffee and sips. “I barely heard anything once I put on my headphones.” When he lowers the coffee cup, you could have sworn he was gritting his teeth. “Was the bed comfortable?”

Your back stiffens, and you jerk your head in the other direction. “I realize we’re in your house, but what happens between me and Zayne behind closed doors is none of your concern.”

“Do you normally get it on in strangers’ bedrooms?” Dawnbreaker quips back, and you flush again, chastised. “Or are you under the impression that Zayne’s house and mine have the same rules?”

“It didn’t seem like you would mind, given how you’ve been snooping around in Zayne’s dreams.” Your words are harsh and taunting, intended to shame him. Your appetite had all but vanished, and you throw away the remainder of the ramen into the trash, intending to escape the kitchen when all of a sudden, you’re spun around, strong arms caging you in against the wall.

“Oh, but I don’t have a choice there, do I?” Dawnbreaker is barely a few inches away from you, his broad physique looming over you. “I only see what your Zayne shows me, I’m afraid.”

There’s a strange, mocking, ironical tone as he speaks. “Sometimes I wonder if he was aware of my presence and dreamt what he did to show off what he had. Trust me, I could map out every feature of your body from memory. That’s how often he dreams of you naked.”

His hand trails down your cheek, the gesture surprisingly tender as his eyes gaze into yours, and strangely, you realize you’re not struggling to free yourself. The familiarity between Dawnbreaker and Zayne had all but obliterated your fight-or-flight instincts. His lips were at eye-level, and you suddenly felt curious about how they would feel pressed against yours; would they feel like Zayne’s? Or someone else’s?

His fingers stroke across your jaw, then down your neck, a teasing tickle of digits that stirs up a delicious feeling of desire deep within. Some confine in the back of your mind is aware that you’d just been made love to a few hours ago, Zayne’s seed still buried inside your cunt, but a carnal yearning had been ignited from the moment Dawnbreaker put his hands on you.

His hand pauses in its journey going south towards your collarbone, and when those green irises flick back to you, he smirks.

“Oh, the number of times I’ve seen you making this expression,” he murmurs, his cheek rubbing yours. “You’re turned on, aren’t you?” His lips replace his cheek, and you shiver at the feeling. 

“You were making an utterly delightful sound last night. I wonder what was happening for you to make such a noise.” Dawnbreaker’s breath tickles your ear as he places a little kiss just under it, and you let out a weak little whimper even as your brain begs you for a modicum of restraint.

“You’re doing it wrong.” Your eyes snap open as you hear the same voice that was whispering provocatively to you coming from the entrance to the kitchen. Your heart stops as Zayne comes into view, his expression impassive. Mouth dry, you watch as he approaches while Dawnbreaker doesn’t bother looking over his shoulder. He and Dawnbreaker corral you, leaving no room for an exit. 

“If you were referring to that adorable little chirp she makes, you need to do this.” Zayne unabashedly leans forward to nip your ear, then gently draws the lobe into his mouth, sucking, and as he said, your eyes flutter closed and the chirp leaves your lips with a hint of desperation. 

Your body felt strangely heavy, a fog falling over any rationality you might be harboring. A jolt of arousal shocks your body, reaching the deepest part of your core when you finally open your eyes and see Dawnbreaker watching intently, hunger in every line of his face. 

“Like this?” he asks before he repeats the action on your other ear, and you let out the same chirp, reddening at the realization. It felt like an out-of-body experience, feeling these mouths on you, yet unable to differentiate which belonged to whom. It was like being double-teamed by Zayne, the texture and pulls from the lips identical. 

Your hands, which had been tense, one on each of their chests, were slackening, letting them draw closer to you. The chirps become a moan as they both lick their way down the smooth column of your neck, marking the delicate skin with their teeth. 

“Someone’s enjoying themself,” Zayne teases, feeling a buzz flooding his veins as he watches your reactions. There was something undeniably erotic about what was unfolding in front of his eyes. The thought of sharing you with another man? Unbearable. But sharing you with himself? It was like the universe had created a solution. If he could have replicated himself he would have, for the sake of your pleasure. His cock hardens at the thought of watching you writhe on his clone’s tongue while he squeezed and played with your nipples. An unrealized fantasy was awakening inside of him, and your response was bringing it alive for him. 

Briefly breaking contact with your skin, Zayne glances at Dawnbreaker. “Don’t you have to be at work?”

“I can clear my schedule,” Dawnbreaker says huskily, and it feels like a million butterflies are alive inside your stomach, their wings creating more tingling sensations of arousal that scurry into every corner of your being. 

Before you can say anything, Zayne scoops you up into his arms and carries you, not into the guestroom, but further down the hall into Dawnbreaker’s room, or what would have been his room in your world. He lays you down delicately, settling to one side and stroking your arm, stoking the flames of your steadily growing passion. When Dawnbreaker hesitantly joins, he seems unsure of what to do, shooting Zayne a look of uncertainty. 

One of Zayne’s hands grips your chin, leaning your face up to his for a kiss, and you moan longingly into his mouth at the contact, his lips parting to allow space for your exploring tongue. 

“Are you ok?” he asks, and when you nod your approval, he directs your face towards Dawnbreaker, who finally covers your lips with his. 

It was a unique experience, almost as if Zayne had pulled you back into a kiss for a second time, but you could sense the subtle differences in his technique. It was more reminiscent of an earlier Zayne, when you had first started dating, and he had shyly kissed you, inexperience showing as he’d clumsily made out with you. It was endearingly sweet, and you thought you’d never encounter it again. Yet here it was, and it made you giddy that you could feel this first kiss again. 

Dawnbreaker was in a trance, trying his best to keep his raging emotions under control as he let the kiss speak for him. Night after night, watching you with Zayne, wondering if he could ever experience what he had. Now here you were, warm and reactive in his arms. He can feel you trying to teach him, your mouth guiding his as he’s drawn into the sensuality of everything. He timidly touches his tongue against your parted slit and he’s rewarded with the feeling of the wet slip of your tongue against his as you draw it into your mouth. His hand haltingly rests on your knee, fingers gripping into the skin where it leads into your thigh. 

You break the kiss as Zayne licks the nape of your neck, giving a squeaky suck to the delicate skin as his hand busy themselves with the hem of your top. Effortlessly, he pulls it off, revealing your bare upper half to Dawnbreaker’s hungry gaze.

Your nipples harden under their watchful eyes, pebbling proudly from arousal, as you try not to appear too eager at the thought of having them both in bed. A sigh escapes you as Dawnbreaker traces the very edge of one of the round buds, his touch feather-light. 

“She does enjoy having them played with,” Zayne remarks in a low voice as he demonstrates his point by gently tweaking your nipples with just enough pressure to make you squirm. Dawnbreaker’s lips parted at the sight, like he was imagining how they would feel and taste in his mouth. Your movements press your back more firmly into Zayne’s chest, and he rests his chin on top of your head as your core moistened and fluttered with anticipation, the squeezes on your nipples sending waves of pleasure into your clit which pulses between your folds. 

Zayne’s hands ghost the undersides of your breasts, then cup them and push them up, the tender flesh filling his palms as they’re put at Dawnbreaker’s eye level like an offering. Delighted shock jolts through you as, with a groan, Dawnbreaker’s head closes the gap and his lips brush against one of the hardened peaks before sucking it into his mouth. Your body jerks at the warmth and wetness as Zayne continues to play with your other nipple, the dual sensations contrastingly distinct, Zayne’s calloused fingers on one, Dawnbreaker’s pliant tongue on the other, pushing you to a point of no return. 

Shallow pants flow from your open mouth as the last vestiges of sensibility drain from your mind, your hand cupping the back of Dawnbreaker’s head to hold him in place. His tongue was curious, laving your nipple with care, his eyes flicking up to your face now and then to gauge your reaction to his suckling, and the action sends a plume of warmth rushing from your gut into your spine. When his teeth delicately graze the swollen nub, you moan helplessly, feeling surrender overpowering your willing body. 

Just as you think you’re finding your equilibrium, Zayne catches you off guard and begins to work on your free nipple with his tongue, his little sucks causing a dizzying sensation that steals the breath from your lungs. 

Your body knew who was who, yet it didn’t seem to mind as long as it was being pleasured. Your eyes close almost languidly, your breathing slowing at the sheer eroticism of the scene unfolding before you. Coherent thoughts are slowly wiped from your brain, leaving it a mush of want and need, operating on the most primal instincts you could muster.

Dawnbreaker releases your nipple, then draws a line with his tongue between the valley of your breasts, his teeth scraping over your bellybutton, your powerless noises causing his heartbeat to quicken, his cock painfully hard in his formal trousers. Observing his journey south, Zayne follows suit and licks your shoulders, biting into the crook of your neck and zealously squeezing your swollen mounds enticingly.

When Zayne’s hands ghost down towards your waist, you suck in a breath as he deftly undoes the drawstring of your shorts. Your bottom rises to help him pull the garment down, and Dawnbreaker takes over, dragging your panties off. He observes the white stain left behind and brings it to his nose to inhale, and your eyes quickly dart away, unable to take the embarrassment. 

“That’s not just her you smell,” Zayne says with a touch of satisfaction, and Dawnbreaker’s eyes narrow. 

“What do you mean?”

“Why don’t you check for yourself?” Zayne offers, and you realize what his intentions were, yet you’re unable to stop Dawnbreaker from nudging apart your thighs, desperately clenching your hole as tightly as possible, but to no avail.

The slippery arousal that had built inside you had caused more of Zayne’s seed to leak, and the milky white fluid was spilling onto the sheets, leaving damp marks as it left your body. 

“Oh fuck…” Dawnbreaker’s eyes grew animalistic. “How is she this insatiable?”

“It’s not her fault.” Zayne pets your hair as he speaks. “The thought of both of us has put her body into a heightened state of arousal. You should be proud of yourself.”

You squeak as Zayne shifts your body with his, helping you rest between his long legs as he keeps yours spread apart, his long fingers parting your swollen lips with care to reveal the sticky, dripping labia to Dawnbreaker’s probing gaze. You turn your head, trying to hide in the safety of Zayne’s chest, and he chuckles at your response.

“What’s the matter? You weren’t complaining when you were being stretched wide and filled last night.”

You let out a whimper of mortification, which only grows as Dawnbreaker, emboldened by the sight, adds in a throaty growl, “Certainly not. You were begging, clear as day, for more. What’s the point in acting demure now when the proof is in the pudding?”

Your hips wriggle as Dawnbreaker strokes the edge of your entrance, gathering some of the viscous fluid that was slipping out of your already well used cunt. 

Zayne watches with fascinated interest, then, unable to resist goading Dawnbreaker, asks him, “Have you ever given oral to a woman before?”

Pink dusts Dawnbreaker’s cheeks as he looks at you with unconcealed greed. “I didn’t want anyone else,” he says simply in a strained voice, and Zayne hums as if expressing his approval.

“Well then, this shouldn’t pose too much of a problem.” Zayne settles against the headboard as he holds you in place. “I think we taste the same.”

An array of expressions crosses Dawnbreaker’s face as he processes Zayne’s words. “How am I supposed to know that?” 

“It’s just logic and common sense. But I suppose if we wanted to test it…” His voice trails, and you jerk as Dawnbreaker brings his coated finger to your lips. You obediently part them and suck, tasting the tang of your pussy along with the ashy taste that was purely Zayne. 

“Remember that flavor,” Zayne purrs in your ear. “We’ll need you to confirm if we taste identical.” You flush even as you wantonly suck Dawnbreaker’s fingertip clean, and he withdraws it, now glistening with your saliva. 

With the smooth expertise of a medical professional, Dawnbreaker gently brings the finger onto your clit which had swollen conspicuously, pulsing as he pets it delicately and a strangled noise leaves you. Zayne’s fingers tighten into your flesh, indenting the fat on your thighs.

“Patience. You know the best things happen if you wait.”

Dawnbreaker runs circles over your clit and keeps glancing at Zayne as though seeking his approval, something that amused him greatly.

“Try applying a little more pressure on it,” he says, swelling with the fulfilling idea that he was the expert on your pleasure. When you let out a lingering, keening moan, he kisses your hair.

“I know. I know. But remember, it’s his first time. He’ll get the hang of it.”

As Dawnbreaker familiarizes himself with your body’s reactions, he steadily increases the speed on your clit and you writhe, wrinkling the sheets and rocking your hips to relieve the gripping ache that was growing inside. 

Zayne makes another jab at Dawnbreaker. “Are you scared you’ll taste me? Is that why you’re not using your mouth?”

Temporarily stunned at the question, Dawnbreaker gapes at Zayne who smirks. “Although fingering works fine, you’re better off giving her oral. It’s softer. And leaves your hand free to do other things.”

Glaring at Zayne and determined to prove him wrong, Dawnbreaker willfully lies between your spread legs, and your belly rises and falls in tense anticipation as you wait for his tongue. As it finally wedges its way between your folds, you cry out, your senses on edge as he catches the base of your clit, dragging it wetly upwards, certain that he could taste Zayne on your membranes.

The indecency of the entire act catches up to you, causing your face to screw up in pleasure as your clit is covered by the warm, wet, muscle, laving it tenderly. Dawnbreaker reaches up to cup your breast, kneading it as he gratifies you, and you’re stuck in limbo between wanting to fall into the abyss of lust, but also hearing the disapproving clicks Zayne keeps making.

“There’s a better use for your hands,” he mumbles impatiently, and before you realize what’s happening, you feel two fingers slip into your slick channel, widening your muscles on their girth. Daring to crack your eyes open, you see Zayne’s arm crossing over your body and his wrist crooked as he contributes to your building desperation.

The world slips away in a haze as you focus solely only what you can perceive; Dawnbreaker’s mouth on your clit, and Zayne’s fingers buried in your hole, both of them contributing to your pending orgasm in different, yet united ways. As Dawnbreaker maintains his deliberate licks, Zayne curls his fingertips into that spongy patch of nerves, teasing them relentlessly, both men reducing you to nothing but a being focused solely on climaxing and disintegrating into dust. 

You don’t care how loud you are, nor how tightly your walls clench Zayne’s fingers as your body arches and moves as it needs, closing the gap between yourself and the peak. 

In a moment of chaotic relief, you feel the familiar tingling deep within before a blinding spiral of delight claims you, your pussy contracting wetly, squelching as Zayne continues to thrust his fingers persistently as Dawnbreaker licks you through the aftershock rippling through your system. 

Both men are watching the sight of you losing control almost reverently, every last cry a testament to their effect on you. Dawnbreaker’s lips glisten with your juices, which he swipes away with his tongue lasciviously. The loss of Zayne’s fingers are felt keenly as he removes them from your cunt, the walls quivering in protest. 

Sweat had beaded on your forehead, your breathing harsh and uneven as you tried to float back down to earth. You’re acutely aware as Zayne and Dawnbreaker settle at your sides, affectionately nuzzling you and calming your frayed nerves. 

“Hope you’re not too worn yet, darling,” Zayne coos at you as he pushes back strands of hair from your face. “We have another comparison for you to make.”

They continue to nuzzle into you as though each were trying to imprint their scent on you.  

“If you’re comfortable, I think Dawnbreaker should do the honors this time. He’s already getting sloppy seconds, it’s only fair, don’t you think?” Zayne asks almost playfully, and you give him a pleading look, his filthy dialogue only edging you further along this path of depravity. 

Dawnbreaker looks uncertain, but as Zayne gently nudges you towards him, your inhibitions vanish, and you find the strength to straddle him and begin to undo his tie and buttons. Dawnbreaker’s body is tense as he resists the urge to devour you whole, his fingers clenching the bedsheets as he waits for you to finish undressing him. His breath hitches as you trail lingering kisses down his chest, nipping his skin as your hands busy themselves with his zipper.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but when you finally free him, Dawnbreaker’s cock stands at attention slit already beaded with precum from the engorged head. You wisely keep your thoughts to yourself, but Zayne could have guessed them; it too was identical in size, shape, and coloration to him, and you teasingly lean down to swipe your tongue against his tip, savoring the taste of him. Knowing exactly how much of Dawmbreaker you can take without gagging, you set your mouth to work, slurping him in and hollowing your cheeks to suction around his aching erection.

Dawnbreaker hisses in approval, his hand tugging at your hair as you work on him, his abs rigid as he watches you bobbing along on his dick. Zayne can barely contain himself as he watches, the sight of you pleasuring his pseudo-self so unbearably stimulating, and with a quiet rustle, he slips his cock out of pants and starts pumping himself, remembering the soft feeling of your mouth and turned on by Dawnbreaker’s deep grunts. 

Dawnbreaker finds a small strand of restraint and stills you, damned if he orgasmed before he had the chance to experience your pussy. He knew he wouldn’t be able to bear Zayne’s egotistical expression if he did. 

“Please.” Dawnbreaker rasps. “Use me.”

The soft command issued with that tone of urgency was all it took for you to adjust yourself over him, then with a sigh, you start to sink on his cock, and Dawnbreaker’s eyes widen at the sensation. A deep, guttural noise leaves him as he throws his head back, marveling at the warmth and how your walls expanded to accommodate him seamlessly, sliding down and taking him to the hilt.

Feeling full and comfortable with the familiar cock inside you, you start to ride, your tits bouncing as you do so, watching Dawnbreaker’s captivated face as he experiences his first time. His fingers dig into your hips, guiding your movements on him as his eyes close in bliss.

Dreams were a pale offering when he was experiencing you in this way. Dreams didn’t capture how flushed your cheeks were, the way your lips were parted, and the soft, breathy moans that were floating from them. He’s dying to kiss you again, his arms tightening around you as he gives in and does so. You pause mid-stroke to kiss him with concentration, and Zayne finally sees his window. 

As you lie down on Dawnbreaker’s chest, reeled in by his kiss, Zayne discards his pants and underwear, joining you on the bed and gently prying your ass cheeks apart, observing how your full hole was tightening around Dawnbreaker’s length. He grasps himself by the base, notching his tip towards your tight pussy and you free yourself from Dawnbreaker’s lips and let out a small whimper of discomfort as Zayne pushes in.

It wasn’t painful but you feel your limits being tested, your cunt being split apart as Zayne slides on top of Dawnbreaker’s cock, joining him inside your snug sex. His breathing is ragged as he kisses your back, praising you and offering soothing words as you adjust around both of them, before he thrusts into you, the stroke making you and Dawnbreaker jolt in response.

The sensation was so tight and Dawnbreaker pushes his hips up against you in response, the dual cocks stroking and hitting every inch of your gummy channel. Impaled and unable to do anything except receive them, you steady yourself on Dawnbreaker’s chest, hands splaying out on his pecs as the three of you push each other into heady levels of ecstasy.

The room fills with grunts and mewls, and the sounds of your sloppy cunt as their cocks pound into it, the wet friction of skin rubbing on skin a lewd addition to your arousal. You’re barely holding on, feeling sweetly lightheaded as they use you, their hands wandering all over, groping your tits, your ass, their lips leaving stray kisses all over your body.

Giddy with the knowledge that you were filled to the brim with the two of the same cock, your body automatically becomes receptive, sighing and gasping your pleasure, trusting them to wreck you into a beautiful mess. 

Dawnbreaker’s hips stutter, and his jaw is clenched, and you recognize the signs of an impending orgasm. You stroke his hair encouragingly. 

“Cum for me. It’s ok to let go…”

And those words spoken with that beseeching tone have Dawnbreaker falling apart, his balls tightening before releasing his load deep inside you. Not too soon, Zayne, also overwhelmed by the stimulation, lets out a growl as he gives one final thrust and spurts of thick cum escape from his tip. 

Their combined cream oozes out of you, the slippery feeling only adding to the debauchery as they ease out of you. Without missing a beat, Zayne scoops some of the leaking fluids onto his fingers and brings them up to your lips for a taste.

“Well?” he asks expectantly, waiting for your answer as Dawnbreaker tries to catch his breath underneath you. 

You lick your lips clean, considering. 

“No difference,” you remark, and both men visibly loosen up. 

“Exactly the same, my dear men.” 

© unintentionalseductress original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

@tokyorevengersrin @brekkersgf @ladyparamount @otomegamesforlife @shddyboo @supernaturalbaesduh @sweets-kozume @theimmortalbuns @venussakura @prisjean @laddelulu30 @lethargiccryptid @ravenclaw-jojo @redactedbimbo @crypt-0rchid @fattybattysblog @xinnn6 @xiaoderrrr @evansdmitri @decileste @thesoftuglywrites @belt0-0 @snatched-bubblegum-bitch @wynter-lily @cordidy @delphiakira @ibreathesmut @thedeepspacecadet @mcdepressed290

[tokoyamisstuff]

Hear me out…

Variants finding out that reader who is their S.O in their universe is dating somebody else in this one

All the possible reactions from them ESPECIALLY if the seeing reader again was their main motivation for coming to this dimension in the first place

(Pretty please can you include No goggles Mark and the variant that got blown up with Rex,,,,he had such an evil yet sweet and soft voice it still scratches my head so good)

Warnings: every red flag imagineable, forced relationship, abduction, manipulation, canon-typical violence + death, not proofread

He's calm. Too calm. Because he knows exactly how to resolve this.

You'd surely hate him if he was to kill your mate - which wouldn't be a hindrance, but still bothersome - so instead he resorts to more sophisticated measurements.

Got your partner dangling helplessly in the air while making it crystal clear that if he was to ever approach you again, the consequences would be worse than death.

Of course he'd be there to comfort you immediately after you get broken up with 'out of the blue'. You'll never know.

Surprisingly, I think he'd be the most chill about it. After all, he knows best what it's like to try and fill the void with meaningless partners.

But anyways, it's time you stop this bullshit, because your real soulmate is here now. He wouldn't even feel threatened by this nobody, confident that you'll eventually see just how much better he is in every way.

However, he is not a patient man. If you take too long to accept your fate, he might have to become a little more aggressive in his attempts.

Oh, so you want to make him jealous? Cute. Challenge accepted.

But don't be fooled by his confident facade, on the inside he is seething with rage and heartbreak. There's no way to calm him down, couldn't care less and didn't ask for your opinion, feelings, or whatever excuse you'd come up with to soothe his hurt pride.

He'd keep your 'pathetic attempt at replacing him' around, torturing him for his own amusement, and also as means of punishment because you 'cheated' on him. To 'mark his territory', he will constantly force your partner to watch the things he does to you.

In between his cruel way of venting his anger, he'll have brief moments of weakness, revealing just how desparate he is for your affection.

Won't harm your partner if you comply and come with him. They're insignificant either way.

He's pretty chill about the whole situation, certain that given time you'll surrender to your new circumstances. Treats you strict yet caring - as far as he is able to be - and gives you clear instructions of how to act around him.

Other than that, you'll be granted a rather peaceful life with as much freedom as he is possible to give to make you adapt easier. Asks you to never mention your ex in any way, though. Sore topic.

As far as he's concerned, your life before his arrival never existed.

This whole situation is weirdly amusing to him. He'll have a fit of laughter seeing you with this fucking loser, slapping his ankle and acting all silly, while degrading them and also you for choosing someone like this.

Will challenge your partner to a 'duel to win your favor' just for the fun of it. Might even let them land a hit or two, just to toy with them. We all know how this ends, but hey, it got the point across pretty well.

Afterwards he'll act all cheerful and whimsy, twirling you around and expecting you to be thrilled that he's here and got rid of this 'disgrace' for you.

Would be very underatanding. You are not to blame, after all. It's just that your kind is so weirdly obsessed with the concept of love, that you'd rather stay with the wrong companion than be all alone.

But now he has arrived, and by Viltrumite logic you should practically launch yourself onto the superior choice.

Acts as callous and neutral as always, claiming that this union is strictly strategical, but in reality it's eating him alive that he keeps failing to recreate a bond similar to the one you had with your partner.

At some point he pours out his heart, despite having a hard time to verbalize those feelings he was never taught. It's a beginning, though.

Amused, at least initially. But his mood is pretty erratic in general and can switch drastically.

Depending on your reaction, he might either adapt to the situation pretty easily or do something he regrets later. It's a thin line honestly, and there's no right or wrong action.

Most likely he's a petty bastard and will disregard your partner completely. Flirts with you constantly like a damn bully that tries to steal someone's girl in the most disrespectful way possible. And given his power he just knows neither of you have the guts to resist his antics. If you do play hard to get however, it only spurrs him further!

He can work with whatever you decide on doing.

This is his breaking point.

As soon as the reality of the situation sets in, he'll have a complete mental breakdown. You're finally in reach and yet so far away, with someone better that can provide a normal life for you.

Without any hope to hold onto, he'll start destroying everything in his path in a nihilistic fenzy. Without you, nothing matters anymore - it's better to end it all and take everyone with him.

You'll sacrifice yourself by making the heroic offer to stay at his side if he spares your world - and really, he'd rather have you like this than not at all.

Abducts you right then and there, no questions asked.

This man is so lost in his delusions that he seamlessly continues where he left off with his world's version of you. He refuses to acknowledge that you're a completely different person and gets unstable if you act any different than he expects you to.

The most horrifying thing is that he's a talented manipulator without even trying to be. Gaslights you into obedience by claiming it's the only way to keep you safe, and his gentle way of tending to you in huge contrast to his true nature. Over time he's able to actually make you care for him in a twisted way.

His intentions might be pure, his methods on the other hand are anything but that.

But hey, he never seeked out to be absolved anyways. All he wanted was to have you back.

Be prepared to hear all insuslts in the book being hurled at you.

Kills your partner out of a whim, but regrets his approach later on since he should have made them suffer way more. You can be glad he has a soft spot for you in his heart, otherwise would've died right then and there together.

Better make up to him after your 'mistake' by every means necessary. Get on your knees and beg for his forgiveness - even though you have no idea who he is or what he is talking about.

But hey, luckily he just can't be mad at you for too long.

Bonus: Retro Invincible

"I'm not mad, just disappointed" he states flatly with that smooth, balmy voice of his. He is definetly mad. Run.

Takes his sweet time ending the life of the person that dared defiling you with their unworthy touch, making you watch the entire thing so you'll 'learn your lesson'. And don't you dare to scream or even cry for them, or he'll unleash pain a thousand times worse.

Becomes awfully possessive afterwards. Even while holding you in captivity he'd still find reasons to lash out randomly at people he deems suspicious. You are always under his scrutiny, and the fact that you'll never truly be his is slowly driving him insane.

What a cruel turn of fate for both of you, eh?

[getmeoutofhell]

Slashers Possessive/Yandere HC

Includes: jennifer check, horny the clown, billy loomis, stu marcher, ethan landry, bo sinclair, hannigram, thomas hewitt, jeepers creepers, art the clown.

Warnings: the title speaks for itself!! gifs are not mine credits to the owners.

ʲᵉⁿⁿⁱᶠᵉʳ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ:

She is extremely possessive of you. After all, she is Jennifer Check—whatever she wants, she gets, and that includes you. In public, she is very touchy and won’t let you go or even allow you to think about leaving her. She will go to great lengths to hurt anyone who makes her feel threatened when it comes to you. When she’s in her demon form, it gets even worse; she grabs your arm and drags you around in public, making sure everyone knows that you belong to her. While she knows she is attractive and could have anyone she wants, she only wants you.

ʰᵒʳⁿʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒʷⁿ:

It depends on his mood that day, but most of the time, Archie tries to keep you close. He is someone who needs constant comfort; if you're not around, he becomes increasingly unstable. He is jealous and possessive, wanting you to stay with him at all times. Don't leave his sight, or he might harm someone you care about. He will feel bad for making you cry, but ultimately, he just needs you by his side. You are the only one who truly sees the real him, and he will always appreciate that.

ᵇⁱˡˡʸ ˡᵒᵐᵐⁱˢ:

He’s completely possessive, I’m sorry—well, actually, I’m not. Billy is full of ego and pride, and whenever you spend time around someone of the same gender as him, he feels as if you’re trying to make him jealous. He yells when it’s just the two of you, making it clear that he doesn’t want you to do that again. It’s not like you mean to upset him; he’s just very sensitive and fragile about it. Despite that, he does show you love in his own rough way in the end.

ˢᵗᵘ ᵐᵃʳᶜʰᵉʳ:

This poor boy is incredibly loving and caring. However, beneath that exterior, he does exhibit some controlling tendencies. He may not show it openly, but there are moments when you can notice a shift in his behavior, leading you to ask questions. He consistently responds with, "I'm fine," when, in reality, he is seething with anger. If you’re not careful, it might not be safe to be around him for long, and you'll find yourself stuck in an uncomfortable situation until he feels he can trust you again.

ᵉᵗʰᵃⁿ ˡᵃⁿᵈʳʸ:

I could go on for hours about how he’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing. This boy is a demon, I tell you. He’s very manipulative and jealous of everything you do. If there’s another boy around, he will get rid of him without hesitation; in fact, it’s a bit strange. His anger isn't rare, surprisingly; it's quite common. He does try to hide it, but it never really works out. You can see every time how the sparkle in his eyes disappears when someone gets too close to you. He may act shy, but he’s far from it.

ᵇᵒ ˢⁱⁿᶜˡᵃⁱʳ:

You can probably guess what I’m going to say, and you’d be right: he is possessive of you. He sees you as his property that he must protect and keep others away from, which even includes his brothers. He can get quite loud if he feels one of them is flirting with you too much. While he understands them, he doesn’t want them to overdo it. He’s a busy man, which means you’ll likely spend a lot of time at home until he feels comfortable letting you out. That could take weeks—if you’re lucky.

ʰᵃⁿⁿⁱᵍʳᵃᵐ:

These two work together to keep harmful (innocent) people away from you. They operate in a way that is very different from any other human. They communicate silently, ensuring that you remain unaware of what’s happening around you. In about a week or so, that troublesome person will be gone. Will is best at distracting while Hannibal excels in taking action. They try to keep you from noticing the things they do, even though you know all their secrets. It's no surprise to you that they behave this way, but you don’t mind it too much.

ᵗʰᵒᵐᵃˢ ʰᵉʷⁱᵗᵗ:

Speaking of Thomas, he is exactly what you would expect. What I mean is that he is very protective of you because he loves you so much. It’s not in a scary way, though. He will do his best to keep you at home, trying to shield you from his darker side. Besides that, he truly loves you. He often wonders why you chose him out of everyone. He struggles with self-hatred and tries to deny it. However, you love him for who he is and dream of becoming his wife/husband/spouse one day.

ʲᵉᵉᵖᵉʳˢ ᶜʳᵉᵉᵖᵉʳˢ:

What do you hope to achieve by trying to leave him? He will track you down and restrain you even more. He can always tell when you are lying, so don’t even attempt to deceive him. Jeepers is a hardworking man, and because of his hunger, he will be out of the nest most of the time. However, that doesn’t mean you will be free. He will ensure you have everything you need while he is out hunting. He won’t allow you to see or interact with another human ever again. If he finds you talking to or seeing anyone else, they will be gone.

ᵃʳᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒʷⁿ:

If you and he are really together, he will likely be the least possessive. He’ll definitely protect you and may even try to distance you from people he feels you spend too much time with, but that’s just part of it. Art himself is like a walking time bomb; one minute he’s allowing you to go outside, and the next he’s keeping you cooped up in the house with him for the night. It seems to depend on whether he’s injured or not. He won’t try to hide his darker tendencies because he feels there’s no need to, and besides, he has better things to do.

[ready-to-read7]

Prompt #12

Okay I have seen a few things of Damien and Danny being siblings but most of the time they are twins but that is not the angle that I’m currently going for since I do remember reading once when Danny was Damien’s older brother some time ago  and  I’m going to throw in some trance Danny misunderstandings with baby elly but a lot more interference from clockwork

so Danny was reborn as Danielle al Ghul and for some reason he was born female but he did not care since he could just simply proclaim himself trance when he’s older, he knows he’s a baby he still has all  his memories from his first life and his time as the ghost King but he sees this as a vacation  that will take an entire lifetime but a vacation non  the less one that finally will let him relax hopefully.

but unfortunately he was born to a family that worships a thing known as a Lazarus pit   a hole  of disgusting, old  ectoplasm that has become corrupted, not to mention he found out later he was born into a league of assassins, and these two things wouldn’t really be a problem since he still has his durability and enhanced senses so he could avoid getting killed, and  he thought  the ectoplasm  would not affect him but unfortunately due to how old and disgusting it was it was making him sick so from when he was a baby he was ill and obviously his grandfather saw this as a liability but his mother somehow convinced his grandfather that he might have inherited his biological father’s intelligence so he might be useful for something other than one day taking over the league of assassins, and that she would simply try and bear another child in order to get the perfect heir,

when Danny was 4 his mother gave birth to his little brother Damien who unlike him was not affected by the Lazarus water so was the perfect  heir in his grandfather’s eyes.

They both were still being trained Damien obviously because he was supposed to be the next heir of the league of assassins but Danny was being trained more in intelligence and healing but it does not mean his assassin training didn’t happen and to the surprise of everyone he was keeping up with his training  the only thing is his illness made it difficult for him to gain his grandfather’s approval since Danny would randomly faint or start coughing up blood.

Also despite constant attempts to keep Danny and Damien apart most of these attempts being done by  grandfather they had a good relationship and Danny had become the league of assassins head healer by the age of 12 and his grandfather, Ra's al Ghul could admit that Danny was not as useless as he once said but despite that Danny’s condition was getting worse, so much that by the time Damien was 10 and about to leave to go to his father Danny could not leave his bed.

okay so a time skip happens of 4 years and this is where I’m going to have to explain on how elly fits into the story, so something happens in elly  gets put into her core and while Danny is on a mission clockwork gets in touch with him again and explained the situation with elly and explains that she needs to be incubated a.k.a. he has to carry her like a normal human baby and Danny Seeing this is a chance to reunite with his daughter along with to get away from the league of assassins makes a plan and stages something that makes it look like he got (assaulted) when in reality all that happen is that he absorbed elly’s core,now for his plan to get away from the league of assassins

he writes a letter to Damien explaining the situation blaming their grandfather for the entire thing by stating that he had been getting worse and   grandfather had sent him on the mission regardless to a place that was honestly more dangerous than he could handle in his much weaker state and now things have happened ( he does not mention that he is pregnant technically since it would be too early to know that for a normal human)

Damien having lived for 4 years with his father and siblings had learned that most of the things the league of assassins did was not okay and receiving this letter from his brother that he had kept secret from his family because he honestly thought that his brother was safe and he did not see a point in telling them about Daniel, was absolutely furious how could grandfather do this, Daniel was a cherished member of the league of assassins he was the best healer, what would be the reason for grandfather to put him in such danger and then he would think Daniel had always been strong his fighting prowess was that on almost the same level as mother  the only reason it wasn’t better was because he was ill and to be honest if he was not ill he probably would’ve far surpassed grandfather,  Damien comes to the conclusion that grandfather was scared of Daniel and was purposely keeping him sick and putting him in dangerous situations just to keep him in line, Damien would not accept this and would immediately set up a meeting with his father so that they can rescue Daniel.