#just a few months apart because they have always been chasing each other

[lover-of-mine]

I refuse to believe eddie is younger than buck though because as chim said "you're not his elder". buck was 26 in s1 and 29 in s4 and so to me, eddie has to be at least a year older? but you're right about them being around the same age and yet at such different stages. buck craves that family and I wish he could have it 💔 that baby duck could cling a little harder for once (to eddie, not a stranger..)

Well, considering season 6, Eddie can't be more than a few months older than Buck. I don't think they would actually make Buck older than him, but the thing is, we know Eddie has to be born in 1992 given the date on Shannon's grave and the way they didn't imply that Eddie is older than her, but Buck can be from 1991 or 1992 considering all the times they stated his age, 26 in s1, 28 right before the tsunami, 29 before he finds out about Daniel, 30 when he gets struck by lightning, and the very confusing way the time passes on the show. I guess you could push it a little, say Eddie is from late 91, since Shannon is from October 92, he could be anywhere from November 91 to September 93 and still be the "same age" as her in between birthdays but I refuse to believe they would put him as being born in 93, so our best guess is somewhere in 92, but our best guess with Buck is also somewhere in 92. So they can't be more than a few months apart from each other. But I also think everyone latched onto the way Eddie acts older (and the way Ryan is older) to put him as older than he is when his whole thing is that he was forced to grow up too fast, by the pressure to be the "man of the house" and the way that he had to learn be a father before he got to be a kid and the way that war changes someone in ways other experience won't. Buck has a boyish energy to him because he was left alone, because he was invisible. Maddie left for college then she left because of Doug, so the only person that could've pushed him to get his shit together wasn't around, so he lived life the way he did because he didn't have anyone else to care about besides himself and he never cared about himself very much to begin with. Because the way he settles into himself is not just Abby in the way he likes to say, it's Bobby, Hen, and Chim letting him care about them too. And the way he really settles once he gets Maddie back and meets Eddie and Chris shows the way he just didn't have a reason before them. But they do balance each other off in a beautiful way because Eddie needed to loosen up a little, and Buck not only shows him a different perspective, he also gives Eddie means to care about himself while making sure Chris is also always taken care of, and Eddie gives Buck a reason to not be a reckless idiot just because he wants to feel something.

[togenabi]

the promised knight

knight!roronoa zoro x princess!reader

♡— after a lifetime apart, zoro finds his way back to you

word count♡— 8.7k (screams into the void)

genre♡— royalty au, childhood friends to strangers to lovers, slow burn bc a lot of things happen, but there's fluff bc I need there to be

content notes♡— fem!reader wears dresses, mentions of death and grief, very plot heavy, kuina and mihawk are here, canon-typical violence, original side characters, no use of y/n, proofread(ish), inaccurate royalty things, inaccurate chemistry/poisons/acids, yes I got the name florentia from ill be the matriarch

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— quick explanation!: a regent has no right to the throne, they're just someone stepping in temporarily while the next monarch is absent or unable to execute their powers. happy reading!!

Your happiest years were when everyone was together.

Those were the days you’d sneak out of your lessons to go play in the training grounds. You’d find your best friends arguing about something or other, fighting with wooden swords and chasing each other around.

Kuina and Zoro did their best to include you in whatever game they were playing. You found it all good fun, even if you were mostly being rescued or hidden away somewhere. The proud smiles on their faces when they saved you always made the wait for them worth it.

“Why do I have to play the bad guy?” A young Zoro whines, frowning deeply with shoulders slumped. His wooden sword hangs lazily in his hand, pointed to the ground. 

Opposite him, Kuina’s blade was up, stable and correct with proper posture. “Because we agreed I would save the princess today!”

You remember sending Zoro a small smile, trying to reassure him, “You can save me next time, Zoro. I promise.”

Zoro complained, but gave his all acting as a bandit out to rob you. You and Kuina would run into the meadow—hands held in each other’s—squealing and laughing. You’d always end up collapsed together; among the grass and the flowers. They would cheer and scream into the sky, happy that the great knights protected their princess once again.

But that same meadow is now covered with a blanket of melancholy. The colors aren’t as vibrant as they were back then. Flowers no longer bloom like they did. The children’s laughter has been replaced by a deafening silence.

Everything changed when Kuina died.

She was hit by a stray arrow, they said. They called it a tragic accident. 

More sadness only seemed to follow after she was gone. Zoro left without a word, abandoning his training, and you along with it. Your mother, Queen Florentia, passed due to an illness a few months after that. In a blink of an eye, you lost everything back then.

The large doors to your chambers slam shut, breaking you from your train of thought. The thud echoes into every corner before fading into noiselessness once more. 

A maid rushes in, completely out of breath and practically stumbling towards you. “Your Highness!” She gasps. Waving a hand, you gesture for her to calm down.

“Selma,” You pour her some water in a glass. It’s strange to see your personal maid so distressed. “What did you find?”

Practically inhaling the water, she places a hand over her heart before explaining, “You were right, Your Ladyship. The commander informed me that several knights had poison hidden in their quarters.”

Her eyes trail to the glass she’s holding, then to the pitcher. Selma’s face becomes appalled as it sinks in that you had poured her a drink. You cut her off before she can make a fuss about it.

“Never mind all that.” There are more pressing matters than decorum right now. “What else did Mihawk say? Have the knights been apprehended?”

“No, my Lady.” Selma retrieves a transparent vial from her pocket. “The commander said there's a chance the poisons were planted. Trustworthy men could have been framed… He discourages you from trusting any of them at all.”

The vial is small, barely larger than your thumb. To an untrained eye, it looks like nothing is there. You hold it up to the window, letting the sun’s setting rays shine through the glass.

There it is. A near-invisible, lavender sheen in liquid. The queen regent’s signature poison.

“Damn it all.” You sigh, falling into an armchair. 

It’s common knowledge that most of the people are loyal to Queen Regent Cassiopeia. Not to you, the rightful heir to the throne.

Ever since she took the position after your mother’s death, she’s been doing everything in her power to discredit you. Though she's not in the official line of succession, her goal is to become queen by any means necessary.

You’ve only been able to hold on for so long because there are still people loyal to your mother, like Commander Mihawk. However, it will take only one slip up for your standing to collapse. Cassiopeia knows this, and you suspect that she plans to completely ruin you at the upcoming knighting ceremony.

On a paneled wall in your room, encased in an ornate golden frame, hangs a portrait of Queen Florentia. The gold reminds you of the gilded dagger she gave you as a child. 

Subconsciously, your hand moves to rest over your pocket; where the dagger is hidden under your skirt. What would your mother have done in this situation?

You scan the painting as if the image would respond. It doesn’t, but your eyes settle on the necklace she’s wearing. It was her most prized possession, and she had promised to give it to you when you were older, but it’s sadly lost to time.

The vial grows heavy in your fist. Your mother would stop at nothing until Cassiopeia is defeated, so that’s what you’ll set out to do.

“Selma, get me some ink and parchment.” You order, feeling more determined. “I have a plan.”

Dracule Mihawk burned the note as soon as he finished reading it. Your idea was brilliant, if only a little complicated to execute. 

Cassiopeia will demand you choose a personal knight during the ceremony. Assuming all the knights are loyal to the queen regent, none of them would be a safe choice.

So, you asked Mihawk to hire a skilled fighter to pose as a knight. Someone whose loyalty cannot be bought. Immediately, he knew who to recruit. Though he warned you that you might not find the man… agreeable.

“I don’t care.” You replied stubbornly. “I can’t afford to be picky. Just make sure that he won’t kill me in my sleep.”

Mihawk muses that he might be killed by you in his sleep. Because in a shady, run-down tavern, he sits beside a familiar green-haired swordsman nursing a drink at the bar.

“Fancy seeing you here, commander.” Zoro spits out the title in disgust.

“It seems that some things never change.” Mihawk hums. “You’re still in the same place as you were when we last fought.”

“And your legend ends with you kissing up to that false queen.” Disappointment practically drips from his tone.

“And here you are,” There’s an amused glint in the knight commander’s eye. “...still not able to beat me, Roronoa Zoro.”

Zoro’s jaw clenches in frustration. He breathes out deeply, “What do you want, old man?”

“Join my knights.”

Scoffing, Zoro can’t believe his ears. Is this guy serious? “I’m no knight. Not anymore.”

“Are you sure about that?” Mihawk tests. “The princess needs someone not easily dissuaded.”

At the mention of you, Zoro freezes. He squints at the commander as it dawns on him, “You don’t serve that Cassiopeia bitch.”

“Obviously.”

“But why did you become commander only after Queen Florentia died?” Zoro asks. “Everyone thought you were bought off.”

“That’s besides the point.” Mihawk hisses. “I know you’ve been wanting to make it up to the princess. I’m giving you a chance to do that on a silver platter.”

Zoro stays quiet, eyes watching the alcohol ripple in his glass. He’s not drunk enough for this discussion. And he meant what he said, that he’s not a knight. That dream died with Kuina, and he chose to pursue less honorable ways to become stronger.

It’s funny how Mihawk, who was an outlaw, traded his jacket for a suit of armor. And now, he's trying to act righteous. But some things are just—

“It’s not too late to change things.” Mihawk attempts to persuade him, calmer this time. “Something tells me you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Shaking his head, Zoro can’t believe this man is talking like he knows him. “What do you know about regret?”

When the commander doesn’t respond, Zoro turns to see Mihawk’s face, a grave expression marks his features.

“I know far too much, I’m afraid.”

Zoro studies him for a moment longer, curious as to what he meant—but he doesn’t dare ask. Only an idiot would test Dracule Mihawk. 

This master swordsman, whom he’s looked up to for so many years, has changed drastically. Perhaps everyone has. It makes Zoro wonder how much you might’ve changed in the years he’s been gone.

You. He’s—there’s so much he wants to say. So much he wants to ask… but does he have the right to? 

Who is he kidding? He doesn’t. 

And yet, Zoro can’t help but wonder if he passes on this opportunity and regrets it, would he spend the rest of his life wishing he could make up for it?

After downing his drink, Zoro slams the glass on the bar counter.

“What do I need to do?”

Selma assists you with your hair and makeup on the day of the ceremony. She’s practically buzzing as she flutters around you. It’s nice that she’s still enthusiastic about things like these, even when dangers lurk in the shadows.

“You look stunning, Your Ladyship!” She gushes, adjusting the different layers of your dress so that it falls on you perfectly. “A vision, you are. Just like Queen Florentia.”

“Thank you.” You respond gratefully, despite not feeling as sure and confident as your mother was. Would that change, if you were to become queen?

A knock sounds on your door. Selma rushes to answer it, and lets Mihawk into your chambers. He steps in, but remains by the entryway.

“You look lovely, princess.” The commander bows to you in greeting. “I was instructed to escort you once you’re ready.”

Nodding, you approach him and hold onto his arm. “Let us be on our way.”

Keeping your face carefully neutral, you whisper to Mihawk under your breath, “Will you really not let me know the knight’s name? How am I supposed to know who to appoint?”

“You’ll know.” Mihawk pats your hand reassuringly. “Without a doubt, you’ll know. I just hope you’re not too hard on him.”

You side-eye him. “He’s not a convict or something, is he?”

Mihawk presses his mouth shut. This bastard, is he trying not to laugh? “You might actually prefer a convict over him.” 

That pulls a frown out of you that you cannot contain. What on earth is that supposed to mean? Is the man that bad? How are you supposed to mentally prepare with such vague warnings?

All thoughts of the mystery knight fade into the back of your mind, however, when you and Mihawk make your entrance at the throne room. 

The extravagant hall is decorated to the nines. Flags of different family crests hang from the ceiling. Flowers bloom at every window sill. You smile at it all, at your people—but it fails to reach your eyes. It’s difficult to truly smile when Cassiopeia stands dangerously close to your mother’s throne.

You curtsy when you reach the steps, one hand still on Mihawk’s arm as the fabric of your skirt dips onto the floor. You hear murmurs of approval from the ministers in the front row, pleased to see the good relationship between the princess and queen regent.

But they don’t see through your gloves, how your grip on your skirt is tense and far too tight. They don’t see how Cassiopeia’s smile is truly a smirk when you lower your head to her.

“Lovely to have you here, darling.” She says, and you fight the urge to laugh. ‘Lovely’ would be if she accepted her place and let go of her greed. 

Mihawk guides you to the smaller throne on the left. This has been your seat since you were born. If Cassiopeia had her way, it would be your seat until the end of your days.

She glides to the center of the dais, the train of her excessive dress flows like a river after her. She stands; graceful, powerful and smiling—but she will never be happy until she can sit on the throne and wear your mother’s crown.

Whatever it takes, you will find a way to stop her.

“Welcome to the long-awaited knighting ceremony.” Cassiopeia addresses the audience. “It is an honor to have the kingdom’s finest pledge to serve and protect us.”

The ceremony proceeds to speeches from several dignitaries. Mihawk delivers a short yet intense declamation about the knightage being the greatest honor; and hands the queen regent an elaborate, bejeweled sword.

“These warriors before us today are hereby called forward to receive Knighthood. The kingdom will forever be grateful for your service.” Cassiopeia proclaims.

Attentively observing the knights lined up, you keep an eye out for the one Mihawk recruited for you. One at a time, Cassiopeia announces their name before tapping their shoulders with the ornamental blade.

You grow restless as the line dwindles. Frustrated, you throw questioning looks at the commander’s direction. He skillfully avoids your gaze. The nerve.

When only about five men are left, you begin to study them all and weigh your options. Perhaps you should pick someone with a smaller build, so that you can have a better chance of escaping? You also spotted someone who appeared clumsy. If you were to outsmart him, your odds of surviving weren’t so bleak.

But then—dramatically, as if in slow motion—the great doors to the throne room opened with a loud, booming sound. Everyone turned as light poured into the hall.

A swordsman makes his entrance. His armor is unassuming, but the three blades at his side demand attention. He wears a helmet over his head, but even after so much time, you’d know those eyes anywhere.

Mihawk was right. You would have preferred a convict—or maybe some rogue, or a thief who would rob you blind. You would have preferred anyone over Roronoa Zoro.

You thought you’d never see him again, but he’s here, marching towards the end of the line. You gape at him, feeling too many emotions all at once. Why is he here? Why now?

Mihawk intercepts Cassiopeia before she can question Zoro’s identity. “Forgive me, queen regent. This young man ran late due to an errand I sent him out on.” 

How brilliant of him. Cassiopeia hates unexpected interruptions, but would never express her frustrations openly with so many people watching.

It’s amusing to see her grin and bear it. “That’s… quite alright, commander. I’m glad he made it before the end of the ceremony.”

When only Zoro remains to be appointed, you stand and call for the queen regent’s attention.

“Should he accept, this man shall be my personal knight.” You declare as Zoro’s gaze meets yours.

“What of your decision, knight?” Cassiopeia asks. Zoro nods, and the queen regent’s gaze sharpens. She understands that something is amiss, but passes the decorated blade to you without a word.

Back when you were children, you used to dream of this moment together. Kuina and Zoro would kneel before you on the grass beneath a shining sun, pledging their unwavering loyalty as you tap their shoulders with a stick.

You’re no longer children, but as Zoro kneels before you now, you still feel like a child all the same. Your clothes feel too big. The throne room is too vast; the ceiling too high. The sword is too heavy in your hands as you raise it.

“Roronoa Zoro. I hereby dub thee into the honorable order of knights as my chosen protector.” The blade lands on his shoulder—his right first, then the other. You pray to the stars that no one notices your hold quivering.

“Arise, Sir Zoro, and be recognized.”

You’re no longer children, but you’re still here. Playing a different sort of game.

Mihawk, the wise man that he is, makes himself scarce after the ceremony. You’re left to awkwardly journey back to your chambers with Zoro in tow. He doesn’t speak a word the entire time, but you can feel his eyes burning a hole through the back of your head. 

Selma is there when you get back, your usual afternoon refreshments prepared. She approaches you, but stops short when she sees Zoro.

“Leave us.” You tell her. She obeys, albeit reluctantly—looking back over her shoulder more than once as she exits.

After the door closes shut, the outside world feels a million miles away; making the air feel tense. You hastily take off your gloves, the fabric suddenly feels constricting against your skin. Every fiber of your being wants to scream at him.

Roronoa Zoro. Your best friend who had left all those years ago. You don’t even know where to start. 

Maybe throwing something at him will make you feel better. 

You throw one of your gloves. The fabric hits his chest before falling pathetically. 

“Seriously?” Zoro frowns at you, unimpressed. You throw the other one. It meets the same fate.

Grumbling under his breath, Zoro takes off his helmet. It vexes you how you subconsciously hold your breath until you see his face.

You huff skeptically, “Why are you here?”

“Mihawk said you needed help.” He answers with a shrug, causing his armor clink. 

After a breath, he speaks cautiously, “I didn’t know things had gotten this bad.”

“How could you have known?” You bite back, “You left, Zoro.”

In a sense, you understand why Mihawk chose him. You asked for someone who wouldn’t kill you in your sleep, and Zoro—at least, the one you knew—definitely wouldn’t.

Some (rational) part of your brain is telling you to keep quiet and accept his help. With Cassiopeia planning a mutiny, time is something you don’t have a lot of. 

But your heart still feels angry and hurt when you see his—stupidly handsome—face. The years just had to treat him well, didn’t they?

“I’m thankful for your help,” You admit disgruntledly. “But I’m not happy about it.”

Zoro calls your name. It makes your heart ache a bit, but you hold a hand up to silence him. 

“Please, just—I need time to process this, Zoro.” Turning away from the knight, your eyes find the window. The sunset paints the meadow in deep oranges and blues. It doesn’t make you feel any better.

“...We’ll talk tomorrow.” You promise, your tiredness evident from your tone.

Zoro lingers, hesitating. But he doesn’t push you. You hear his armor shift as he bows before he leaves.

That night, Zoro stands guard outside your door. It’s good that no one else is around, it allows him to think in peace. About you.

The last time Zoro saw you, you were a small thing, getting dirt on the edge of your skirt. When he saw you today, sullying even the path you walked on felt like a crime. 

He knew you would be mad. He had prepared himself to be yelled at. Maybe he thought you would cry. How much you went through didn’t really sink in until he saw how exhausted you were. 

All the things he wanted to say, every apology and excuse, fade into nothing. The first thing he wants to tell you is how thankful he is that you’re still alive. It doesn’t matter that you stay mad at him forever, he’ll protect you for just as long.

Footsteps sound through the dim hallway. Zoro rests a hand on his blades, ready to fight back anyone who poses a threat. A knight he’s not acquainted with approaches, his steps staggering just a bit. The man carries a bottle of alcohol.

“Hey! New guy!” The stranger bellows. “This ’ere is a little something we prepared for ya, since yous didn’t eat dinner with us.” Zoro makes a mental note that they’ve been watching him.

“Take it, take it.” The knight tries to shove the bottle into Zoro’s hands. At the last second, Zoro spots a knife the man hides behind his back.

Quick on his feet, Zoro jabs the man’s neck, causing him to stumble. The knight charges at him, but Zoro effortlessly dodges. Grabbing the knight’s shoulder, Zoro slams his head onto the stone wall.

The bottle clatters to the floor as his opponent collapses, looking up at him in fear. Picking up the glass, Zoro sniffs at its contents. It’s laced with some sort of sedative. 

Zoro pries the knight’s jaw open before pouring the drugged beverage into his mouth. The amber liquid spills. The man coughs, gurgling and struggling in vain until he slumps onto the ground.

Observing the bottle inquisitively, Zoro shakes his head before dropping it again. What kind of amateurish attempt was this? Is the queen regent testing his skills? 

If anything, all this managed to do was—Zoro starts, turning to your door in alarm—…divert his attention.

Not a second later, he kicks down your door. The elaborately carved wood falls from its hinges, dust clouds billow once it crashes on the previously spotless tiles of your room.

You’re fighting off three large strangers clad in black, a dagger in your hand. Zoro tries not to think about how your eyes softened in relief when they landed on him as he cuts down one of the intruders. Maybe you still care for him a little.

“Took you long enough!” Or not.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” He grunts back, slashing his sword at someone charging towards you. Zoro only realizes the deeper meaning to his words when you make a face. 

“Don’t make being late a habit, Zoro!” Stabbing an intruder’s side, you quip at him, “You and your dramatic entrances, I swear.”

Zoro bites back a grin. He missed you more than you’ll ever know. 

After taking down one of the intruders, you hide in your wardrobe as Zoro deals with the rest.

It would be smart to lock the door. Barricade it, so that no one can get to you on the off chance Zoro is defeated. But you don’t. You keep the door ajar to watch everything unfold. The way he fights is a captivating sight.

Look at him. Your knight in lackluster armor. Protecting you like how you always talked about as kids. He’s wielding two blades, one for each perpetrator still standing. You blink in surprise when you make out the third, sheathed blade. Kuina’s.

The more you examine him, the more you see how different he seems. He carries himself more confidently, unlike that boy who whined about roles, responsibilities and challenges. 

You also see how gruff he’s become. He’s grown stronger, for sure, but you get the sense that he’s closed himself off from the world. Perhaps the years weren’t as kind to him as you'd thought.

The last intruder lets out a pitiful cry as Zoro knocks him unconscious.

“I’ll tie them up and let Mihawk deal with them in the morning.” Zoro says, pausing to breathe for a moment before dragging the men out by their feet.

Emerging from your wardrobe, you become dismayed at the sight of your room in such a state. “Did you really have to kick down the door?” You groan.

Surprisingly, Zoro blanks, appearing sheepish. “...I didn’t know it would break like that. I just—you should get a damn better door.” He mumbles, heaving the doors up and resting them against the wall outside.

When he comes back from restraining the intruders, he stands before you awkwardly—like he doesn’t know what to do when he’s not fighting or cleaning up bodies.

No one says anything. You both just take each other in, not completely recognizing the person that looks back.

You don’t feel so angry at him anymore. When all’s said and done, everyone has different ways of dealing with grief. Your heart only grows conflicted, wishing you had been there for each other instead of being apart. Goodness knows you could have used someone by your side. You’re sure he did as well.

“I—” Zoro falters. “...I’m glad you’re okay.”

‘Okay’ isn’t how you would describe your current state, but you nod anyway. 

“You too, Zoro.”

In a secluded alcove in the royal gardens the following afternoon, you invite Mihawk for tea on the pretense of thanking him for your newly sworn knight. The story that spread was that you would have been done for were it not for Zoro. You don’t want to think about how true that might be.

“The queen regent is furious you were able to secure a knight loyal to you.” Mihawk informs you as he helps himself to some pastries. “We should avoid meeting for a while, lest she suspect anything of me.”

“Alright.” You agree. “Selma also informed me that we can gather statements from mistreated staff.” You show Mihawk a list of names. “If enough of them support us, and if we can prove Cassiopeia orchestrated what happened last night… We can take her down.”

“She will be busy attending a gala this evening. I’ll make sure no one is near her office while she’s gone.” Mihawk turns to Zoro, who is standing guard behind you, sending him a fearsome look. “Those men got a tad too close last night—”

“Mihawk.” You warn him to drop it. He doesn’t.

“Ensure that it doesn’t happen again, young man.” 

“It won’t.” Zoro replies icily. The commander only huffs in response. 

‘It won't happen.’, he said. But trouble finds you when Zoro steps on a tripwire in Cassiopeia's office. Arrows soar, launching from scattered, hidden contraptions. Zoro shoves you into a bookshelf, covering your frame with his.

“So much for her not finding out we were here.” You remark sarcastically, waiting for him to step back.

But then, as they cage your head, Zoro’s arms tense up. His expression contorts in discomfort.

“...Zoro?” Raising your hands, you cradle the sides of his face.

“Damn arrows,” He growls. “I think they’re poisoned.”

“What?!” You gasp, ducking under his arm to check his back. You find a wound where an arrow grazed his skin. “Of course you get injured when you don’t wear your armor.”

“Why don’t you try sneaking around in that thing, then?” Zoro argues, but you’re startled when the wound begins to bleed.

“We need to get you treated.” Panicking, you grab his arm and pull him along. He doesn’t budge. “Zoro, we should go.”

“No.” He refuses, hissing in pain all the while. “That bitch won’t let us find a way in here again. Let’s just be quick.”

“...Fine.” You cave, still worried, hating that he’s right. “At least stay still, search the desk. I’ll handle everything else.”

Zoro relents, opening every drawer and scanning every document in them. You turn your attention to the shelves, trying to find hidden compartments or anything that looks remotely suspicious.

It's not long before a loud crash makes you wince. Zoro found something.

A panel beneath the desk detaches, revealing an ornate box. Studying it, you hum, “It looks like we’ll need a key.” Zoro unsheathes one of his blades, cutting through the lock until it cracks open. 

You shake your head. “Or we could do that, sure.”

However, instead of the nefarious plans or blueprints you were hoping for, you find old papers. All of them yellowing with age. 

“It’s your handwriting.” Zoro points out, picking up the first document.

“What?” You lean in, reading the file over his shoulder. It’s a letter written to acknowledge a transfer of money. But the amount is astronomical, and you don’t remember signing anything of the sort.

“Look at the date.” Pointing to the corner, it reads more than ten years ago. And then it clicks, “My mother wrote this.”

“There’s more than one.” Zoro sifts through the papers, counting over ten.

“All of them are addressed to… Shimotsuki Koushirou?” He reads the name slowly. You look at each other, confused. Why would Queen Florentia be sending payments to Kuina’s father?

A tall longcase clock chimes to signal the hour. If you clean up now and review the evidence later, you can make it look like you were never here. You instruct Zoro to pack up the box.

“We should head out soon.” You say, moving to pick up the arrows scattered on the floor. 

“Be careful.” Zoro reminds you.

“I am.” You show him that you’re holding the arrows by their tail ends. “You can go ahead, if you want. Get that wound treated.”

“Do you really think I would leave you?” You can’t help the incredulous look you send his way. 

“...Forget I said anything.”

Back in your chambers, you twirl an arrow you decided to keep as evidence while examining the documents sprawled out on your carpet. 

Zoro grabs it from your hand. “I thought I told you to be careful with that.”

You think aloud as he sets the arrow to the side, “I just can’t figure out why my mother gave Koushirou so much money.”

“Maybe she felt bad about the accident.” Your swordsman suggests. “We all did.”

“But why did she have to keep it quiet…” Mumbling in thought, you read the last receipt Queen Florentia signed. It had been penned the week of her death.

The sky grows darker, and it becomes more difficult to see. Zoro strikes a match to light a few candles, bathing the room in a subtle, warm light.

Beneath the dim, flickering flames, the sharp arrow on your tea table glints ominously. 

It took you a long while to get over spacing out whenever you saw an arrow. It was one of the things that affected you after Kuina’s passing.

Sometimes, you think of how much better everything would be if she was still here. If it weren’t for that—

…accident?

“Zoro?” Your voice is unsteady, “...What do you remember about Kuina’s death?”

“It was some new guy at the training grounds.” He answers, frowning as he recalls what happened. “He misfired, and his knighthood got revoked after that.”

“But,” Memories come flooding back as you try to piece things together. “If the archers were practicing that day, what was Kuina doing in the grounds?”

“Kuina wasn’t in the grounds.” Zoro corrects you. “She was in that meadow we always went to.” 

He points to the view outside, raising a finger to trace the horizon. “The arrow flew through the fence, but it was really dangerous, even—” 

Zoro turns back to you with wide eyes. “Even the queen was almost hit! Holy shit, she was there to observe that day.” 

You blink at him in disbelief, “My mother was the real target.”

“And she didn’t want the culprit to know she realized, which is why she kept quiet about the money.” 

You collapse into a chair as you run your hands over your head. “Did anyone ever check the arrow for poison?”

“No.” Zoro’s face crumples. “She was hit straight in the heart... She wouldn’t have made it even if it wasn’t poisoned.”

“Oh, Kuina…” You choke back a sob, covering your face with both hands. “I’m so sorry it took us this long.”

“Wait.” Zoro calls out your name, taking your hand and kneeling in front of you. The strength of his grip hurts, but you don’t mind it. You need to feel that he’s with you right now; especially when his next question makes your heart fall through the floor.

“How did your mother die?” 

“She—she got sick. A lot of our people got sick that year.” You answer shakily, not liking where this is going. “Do you think…”

“Queen Florentia could have been poisoned.” Zoro whispers. “And I bet that fake bitch was responsible for it. For Kuina’s death too.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” You counter, “Cassiopeia deals with poisons, sure, but she wasn’t even in the kingdom yet then.” 

“...Someone must have betrayed your mother so Cassiopeia could be queen regent.” He suggests, rubbing circles into your palm. “Because isn’t it convenient, how she was there to bring the people together after Her Majesty died?”

It’s confusing how the world seems to have slowed down, and yet your mind is spinning so quickly, you can’t process anything. You squeeze Zoro’s hand to anchor you, but you shatter all the same. 

“I hate everything.” You cry, tears streaming down your face. “I hate how I didn’t know—but we were kids! How were we supposed to know? And, I hate feeling so powerless. What—how, are we going to fix this?”

“We’ll find a way, I promise.” Zoro moves to embrace your form, but you glare at him.

“You. I hate you too.” You push him away weakly, but he doesn’t let you go. “I—I hate that you left, Zoro… You have no idea how lost I was.”

His eyes glisten with tears. “I was lost without you too.”

Zoro feels you melt into his arms. Your strength just vanishes, and you slump forward until your forehead touches his.

“...Don’t leave me then.” You whisper. You beg.

He holds your cheek, wiping your tears with his thumb. “Never.”

The last thing you remember before falling asleep is Zoro pressing the softest kiss to your temple as he tucks you in bed.

Selma barges in the next morning, slamming the (newly repaired) doors open. As you rub the sleep from your eyes, you’re starting to feel sad for the abuse your doors have been going through lately.

“Princess! Your Ladyship! Your Highness—” She stops abruptly, covering her mouth, looking scandalized. What is she so flabbergasted by—

Only then do you see Zoro sleeping on the floor beside you. He’s leaning on the bed, using his forearms as a pillow. One of his hands is intertwined tightly with yours.

“Your Highness!” Selma gasps playfully, gesturing to your mother’s portrait. “Right in front of Her Majesty!”

“Selma,” You sit up, letting go of Zoro’s hand. “Did you have anything important to report?”

“Ah!” She exclaims, face becoming worried once more, “The commander has been imprisoned!”

You curse, shaking Zoro’s shoulder to wake him. “Couldn’t you have told me that first?”

“Forgive me, princess. It’s not everyday I see you holding hands with a man. May I ask who confessed first, Your Highness?”

“Oh my god, Selma.” You groan. “Just go prepare my clothes.”

“Shall I dress you, or will Sir Zoro—”

“Selma!”

If Zoro heard any of Selma’s ramblings, he’s excellent at hiding it. You both get ready in record time. After which, he leads the way to the dungeons; careful to make sure you don’t run into anyone. 

“We can sneak him out through that secret passage we used to play in.” You whisper, your knight nods. 

“When we get to him, break the lock with your dagger. I’ll stand guard in case someone comes over.”

But someone already beat you to Mihawk’s cell. Zoro pulls you into a shadowed corner to hide.

The queen regent paces in front of the bars, her extravagant dress and cape out of place in this gloomy dungeon. 

Mihawk is on the ground, his wrists chained with heavy shackles. Yoru is noticeably missing from his back. Seeing him like this is heartbreaking.

“I should have known you’d help that wench.” Cassiopeia sneers. “You’ll regret not siding with me soon enough, Dracule.”

“Now that you’ve found me out, I can finally ask you to stop calling me that.” Mihawk yawns. “My name always sounded revolting in your voice.” Crazy bastard, will it kill him to try to stay alive?

“But Florentia called you that, didn’t she?” 

Zoro squints at how something about Mihawk changes at the mention of your mother. It’s almost imperceptible, but the air shifts dangerously. The queen regent should watch her mouth.

“Her name sounds revolting in your voice too.”

Cassiopeia scoffs. “You’re just like her. Thinking you’re better than everyone else.”

“Aren’t you talking about yourself?” Mihawk leans back, crossing his legs. “That’s not a good habit, Cassie.”

The queen regent kicks the cell. Mihawk doesn't flinch as she snarls, “I’ll deal with the princess and that knight... I’ll make you watch as the light fades from their eyes.” Gathering her skirt, her heels clack loudly as she stomps away.

As soon as she’s out of earshot, you and Zoro run to the commander.

“Mihawk!” You call out as you stab the lock with your dagger. It crumbles to the ground after a few strikes. “What happened? What did she charge you with?”

“Treason, apparently.” He shrugs, the chains holding him rattling together.

Mihawk goes on as you break his shackles, “This kingdom should be grateful we’re trying at all. We could easily leave them to their own devices—” You frown at him. 

“...But of course, we won’t do that.”

Sneaking into the library, you regroup with Selma; who passes on vital information.

“The queen regent has the palace on lockdown. Everyone has orders to take you in.” She tells you. “But I’ve rallied the staff. We're going to plead your case to the ministers, Your Highness.”

“Thank you. Do you have my mother's letters?” She nods. “Good. Use them well. I'll make sure your efforts will not go to waste.” You say, giving her hands a firm squeeze. 

“Where’s that fake queen now?” Zoro looks eager for a fight.

“One of the butlers said that the queen regent disappears sometimes, and no one knows where she goes.” Selma explains, passing you a note from her source. “There are rumors that she smells like grass when she returns.”

Mihawk lets out a disbelieving laugh, “She must be at the secret garden.”

“The what?” You ask. That sounds exactly like something you would have loved as a child, but why haven’t you heard of it before?

“It’s a place reserved for queens. Only crowned monarchs should be allowed in there, or even know where it is.” He says. “That woman truly doesn’t know her place.”

“Why do you know about it?” Zoro asks.

After a pause, the older swordsman deflects, “I’ve been called a queen once.”

“Mihawk,” You urge him to be serious. “Can you take us there?”

Before he responds, Mihawk looks at you with something you can’t fully discern, as if he’s recalling an old memory.

“Of course. It’s your birthright, after all.”

The entrance to the secret garden is hidden in a passageway beneath the greenhouse. You imagine your mother walking along this path, to a sanctuary she could truly call her own.

But the vision darkens when you think of how Cassiopeia has been using the space all this time. You hope you're still able to recognize traces of your mother when you get there.

An iron gate stands at the end of the path. Vines tangle through the metal spirals and flowers. Mihawk holds a finger to his lips, carefully opening the gates without a sound except for the rustling of leaves. You all crouch behind a large plant that fans out, over your heads.

And then, you see it. You see what your mother left for you.

The centerpiece of the garden is an intricate pedestal, Yoru is propped up against it. On top of it, however, is a glass case displaying your mother’s most treasured golden necklace.

You almost want to run to it, but Zoro grabs your arm, warning you not to take another step. He nods towards where Cassiopeia stands in front of oddly shaped vials and strange devices containing diff chemicals. She douses a sword with an eerie purple liquid as she speaks.

“Three against one... That hardly seems fair.” She kisses her teeth. Looking over her shoulder, she glares. “Why don’t we fight on even ground?”

Out of nowhere, a large cage falls towards the three of you. Mihawk pushes you and Zoro out of the way, but isn’t able to avoid the cage himself.

“And I just escaped. What a shame.” Mihawk fusses, but you can see that he’s relieved you’re alright.

“Maybe you’re meant to be in a cell, Dracule.” Cassiopeia remarks. “I’ll have your kids join you shortly.”

There’s only one of her, this should be easy, right?

She throws a bottle at you. Luckily, you’re able to dodge it. The bottle shatters, its contents spilling over the bystanding greenery. The liquid turns out to be acid, burning through the foliage and leaving a smoky trail. 

Well, fuck.

Zoro also seems to realize how serious this fight is. For the first time since you’ve reunited, he unsheathes Kuina’s sword, placing the hilt in his mouth.

You brandish your dagger as you yell, “Really? You bite it? What would Kuina say?” He sends you a look. You try not to laugh.

And in the next second, you charge at Cassiopeia together.

It’s difficult to get close enough to land a hit. The queen regent leads you in a dance of acids and poisons. You dodge one bottle only to be met with the toxic end of her blade. It seems that your mother’s dagger won’t be enough in this fight.

“I didn't get this far to be stopped by the likes of you!” Shrieking, she lunges at you.

“You will never be queen!” You roar back.

Behind her, your eyes spot Yoru leaning on the pedestal. The blade is large and intimidating, and you’re not entirely sure if you can wield it correctly… But you might not have a choice right now.

As you were distracted, Cassiopeia’s sword almost cuts through your side. Panicking, you stumble backwards. Zoro slashes at your enemy’s wrist. Her hold on the poisoned weapon falters. It plummets with a clang.

While she’s occupied with Zoro, you rush towards Yoru. From behind the bars, Mihawk watches, holding his breath as you wrap both hands around Yoru’s hilt—but the damn thing is too heavy. 

“Dear princess, you should have learned from your mother!” Cassiopeia smashes a bottle on Zoro’s head. “Stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong!”

The glass explodes into countless glittering shards. A red gas escapes into the air, and your knight inhales far too much of it.

He falls, and for that moment, the entire rest of the world vanishes until all you see is him. Your ears start to ring. His grip loosens on his swords. 

No. Please. Not him. Not anyone else. No more.

Mihawk calls your name. You turn to him, on the verge of breaking down. But then, he nods once, slowly. The action reminds you to breathe—filling you with an overwhelming sense of strength. You can do this.

Screaming, you attempt to brandish Yoru again. 

You swing the legendary greatsword in a perfect arc. Once it collides with the ground, the air ripples. Power surges through an invisible force headed straight for the queen regent. She tries to run, but the hit lands.

Her eyes don’t stray from yours as she collapses. In her final moments, she falls from grace, howling in agony and rage. 

As a last ditch attempt, she throws one last vial of acid at Zoro. You’re about to curse the world all over again as you run to stop it.

Mihawk throws a tiny sword like a dart, miraculously breaking the container before it lands on your knight. Your knees give out, and you pull Zoro into your arms as you gasp for air.

It’s done.

Zoro wakes up to the feeling of you checking his temperature. Your hand is warm against his forehead, making him want to reach up and hold it. He should probably wake up and check on you now.

“Oh.” He hears Mihawk speak, “I didn’t realize your relationship took a certain… turn.”

On second thought, another minute of sleep won’t hurt.

“Not you too, Mihawk.” You groan. “I get enough of that from Selma.”

“Ah, yes. I heard.” The swordsman deadpans, “Hand holding. How scandalous.”

“Alright, if you’re not going to be of any help whatsoever, please just go.”

“If you wanted time alone with him, you could have just said so.”

“Goodbye, Mihawk.”

Zoro hears you escort Mihawk out, and he takes the moment alone to open his eyes. He’s in his quarters, which is a few doors down from yours so that he can easily get to you. 

Not that he stays here often, Zoro prefers standing guard outside your chambers. It’s strange how he lasted years without seeing you, because now that you’re back in each other’s lives, he becomes restless whenever you’re not around. 

Like right now. What’s taking you so long?

The door opens. Zoro perks up, but deflates when he sees that it’s Selma bringing in a pitcher of water. 

“You could’ve at least hidden your disappointment better, Sir Zoro.” She huffs at him, taking full offense. “I’ll go get your princess.”

“Oh!” She yelps excitedly, “My bad, it’s queen anointed now, isn’t it?”

Zoro smiles, his voice raspy with sleep, “That has a nice ring to it.”

“Indeed, it does.” Selma nods, bidding him farewell. 

He doesn’t have to wait long to hear your rushing footsteps. The door opens again to reveal you, this time. Your eyes shine in that really pretty way they do when you’re happy. He’s glad that’s among the things that didn’t change.

Zoro opens his arms, inviting you, “Come here.”

Not needing to be told twice, you fall into his arms, burying your face in his chest.

“You’re okay.” You murmur.

“I wasn’t about to miss your coronation, Your Majesty.” Zoro pokes your nose. He did that a lot when you were kids, you forgot how much you liked it.

“Thank you for being okay.” Leaning down, you kiss his cheek softly.

Zoro brushes his fingers through your hair. He holds your face in his hands, tracing your features as if that will help him memorize the happiness he feels in his heart. The sort of happiness he thought was lost to him forever.

“Hey,” Zoro speaks your name with care. “I love you a lot, you know.”

He always envisioned confessing to you in some dramatic, elaborate way that you’d deserve. There could have been a beautiful sunset. He would’ve brought flowers.

But he was wrong. All he needs are the words themselves, and you—smiling the way you’re smiling at him now. 

You laugh, “I might love you more, I think.”

Zoro shakes his head, sitting up so that he can bring his face to yours properly. “Doubt it.”

The kiss tastes like magic, like you were always meant to find each other's lips. His heart starts doing something funny, and he has to pull you closer—hold you tighter. You respond eagerly, kissing him back so intoxicatingly that he’ll remember the softness of your lips for as long as he lives.

Later that week, your coronation is a grand and extravagant affair.

When Cassiopeia's misdeeds came to light, the people banded together to celebrate her downfall. Those loyal to her either surrendered or tried to escape. Although none of them were able to get away, since Zoro and Mihawk were ruthless towards those involved in the attempted mutiny.

The crown on your head will take some to get used to. It still feels like you're borrowing something of your mother's; but instead of shying away from it like you had before, you step into it openly. You're ready to become a successor worthy to carry on her legacy of kindness and strength.

Uncharted these waters may be, at least you have Zoro now, who would dive into any perilous sea right after you.

Escaping the celebratory banquet and the revelries, you visit Queen Florentia and Kuina's graves with Zoro. It's only right that you pay respects together.

You leave flowers on your mother's headstone, thanking her for everything she did. You're startled when Zoro takes one of his swords, holding it in front of him as he kneels in front of the previous queen.

“Your Majesty, Queen Florentia,” He speaks, his tone steady and sure. “I, Roronoa Zoro, vow to never leave your daughter’s side. I will protect her until I draw my last breath. I swear to cherish her, and to love her even in my next life.”

What is he doing, making you cry like this? It turns out that emotional boy you knew is still somewhere in there. Your heart feels full, knowing your mother would have appreciated the gesture.

As you're about to move on to Kuina's grave, Zoro motions for you to go ahead without him. You look at him strangely, but do as he says to give him some space. 

Mihawk emerges from the treeline when you've gone far enough.

“You look like you’re about to leave without saying goodbye.” Zoro remarks.

“Of course you’d know how that works, hm?” Mihawk challenges, raising a sharp brow. “Try even thinking about leaving and I’ll return to make sure it’s your last thought."

“Didn't you just hear the oath I made to the love of your life?” Zoro turns to Florentia's tombstone again. “Your Majesty, back me up here.”

“She would have approved of you.” Mihawk’s frown is unimpressed, but his gaze is unmistakably caring. 

“...Take care of her, Zoro.”

“Of course. I promise.”

As Mihawk walks away, Zoro asks him one last question, “How are your regrets now, old man?”

The former commander’s shoulders shake in a mixture of amusement and relief. “I suspect they'll heal, with time.”

When Zoro catches up to you at Kuina's grave, you're grinning at him. He can picture that same grin on Kuina's face if she were here. 

“We were just talking about you.” You jest, “All bad things, too.”

“You had nothing to talk about, then.” Zoro sits on the grass beside you. “I’m perfect for you.”

Appalled, you scoff and turn to Kuina's headstone. “Can you believe this guy?”

That day, you talked for hours, even after the sun had set. And on the trek back to the palace, a soft breeze caressed your skin. It felt like Kuina encouraging you, sending you off onto the next chapter of your lives.

Zoro becomes Captain of the Royal Guard once Mihawk leaves. He's teaching you about weapons and self defense when he picks up your dagger to inspect it, turning it this way and that curiously.

“Is there something wrong with it?” You ask, observing it too.

“This pattern and material.” Zoro says, tracing a certain swirl on the weapon. “I feel like I've seen it before.”

“Ah,” He says in realization, tracing a finger down your neck and making you shiver. “It’s the pattern on your necklace.”

“My mother must have had them made together.” You say, unclasping the chain before handing it to him.

There's a gap in the center of the pendant. Thin and barely noticeable, but it looks like it can be opened by something sharp.

“Do you mind if I,” Zoro gestures at the dagger.

“Just don't break it.” You say. “Treat it like my heart.”

Zoro makes a face that pulls a laugh out of you. “I would never do this to your heart.” Aw. You might have melted a little.

The tip of the blade slots perfectly into the pendant. After twisting it slowly like a key, the metal clicks to reveal: a locket.

Handing it over to you carefully, Zoro lets you open it the rest of the way. Inside, there are images drawn on two panels. You, as a child on one side… and Mihawk on the other. Now you understand why your mother treasured this so much. Tearing up, you sigh.

“You’re not surprised.” Zoro notes.

“...I think a part of me always knew.” You respond. “And, I definitely felt something when I held Yoru. No wonder why.”

Treading carefully, Zoro wraps his arms around your waist as he asks, “You’re not upset that he left?”

“But he didn’t. He’ll always be there for me, and so will you.” You smile up at him. “I’m happy I found my family again.”

Many years ago…

The grass on the meadow bristles gently in the wind. Dusk bathes the land in a dreamy, gold and purple hue. 

After a day filled with imaginary adventures, two children wave their dearest friend goodbye. The princess smiles at them fondly before returning to the castle.

Kuina grins, face eager as she points her training sword to the sky. “I’ll be her knight someday. I’ll be commander and everything.”

Zoro jolts, immediately expressing in protest, “No, I’ll be the one to protect her! I’ll be commander!”

“Oh yeah?” The girl’s smile turns knowing. She pokes Zoro’s waist with her sword. “How will you do that? Aren’t you going to marry her?”

Stunned, Zoro can only stare at her in response. A blush creeps up his neck, reddening the tips of his ears. Kuina seizes the opportunity to make a run for it.

“Princess, wait up! Zoro wants to tell you something!”

“Kuina! Get back here!”

read the companion piece / my notes / the timeline of this story (in mihawk's perspective) here : "the taste of ale"

© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist ♡

tags: @songsofadelaide-archive @ay0nha @amitydoodlez @sweetexistentialism @murnsondock @starszns @msmisasoup @writingmysanity @hotchocolattee @dimplewonie @hearts4zoro @kenkenmaaa @appalost @commanderfreethatdust @onebatch--twobatch @rebeccawinters @gunslxtz @akakaze @lownna

[watercolorfreckles]

Could you do a story where a guard of a Supermax prison befriends a supervillain, because he treats him like a genuine human being instead of an animal; and later, all the power-dampeners suddenly fail; and all these villains just revolt against the guards; but supervillain makes sure he’s safe since he was always kind to him?

I understand if you don’t want to!!❤️

Hello! This has been sittin in my inbox for many months during my huge writing rut, sorry about that! I know you also gave this prompt to @the-modern-typewriter and she's been making an incredible series with it on patreon! I changed some things around because I don't want to in any way attempt some sad copy of her interpretation, but I was still inspired by the prompt itself, so I've taken some fairly big liberties to avoid any significant similarities! Hope that's okay! Also, please manage your expectations, I do not compare to the magic that is TMT's writing 😆

TW: Brief depictions of body horror. Violence.

The power blew out in sections. The lights dissolved sector by sector with a sickening whine and click–one by one–in approach.

The commotion ripped Eloise from the fictional world she was lost in, aged page corners still pinched beneath her thumb. Her spirited storytelling abruptly died behind her teeth.

Somewhere in the distance, one person shouted. Two.

Her gaze flicked behind them to the door isolating herself and the bound supervillain from the other sectors of the Maximum Security Prison for Powered Individuals or, as everyone called it, The Max. Seeing nothing but black beyond the bullet-proof glass, her attention snapped forward again to the supervillain imprisoned across from her. 

Was this the start of some elaborate escape plan on his part? Why did it have to happen on a day that she was stuck fulfilling her community service hours instead of being something she could safely gawk at in the newspaper from a distance in a few days? Her stomach did a nauseated flip. 

“What are you doing?” she blurted, voice quivering only a little. Her fingers tightened around her book.

The villain made a show of looking pointedly at his restraints. Wrists strung taut and chained to either wall, he shrugged an innocent shoulder at her as if to say “clearly, nothing.” He was perched on the edge of his bed like a bird, tilting his head with a matching sort of probing curiosity. 

For all the chaos outside of the room, Artisan had not a hair out of place. He appeared perfectly unconcerned, though as thoroughly trapped as ever: ankles shackled, arms stretched uselessly apart from each other. The power-dampening collar wrapped around his neck still blipped a faint red light, indicating it was active. 

The prisoners were rioting. Surely they couldn’t get too far? Containing the most dangerous of powered individuals was, after all, the express purpose of the facility…

The lights above them flickered, dipping the room in and out of inky darkness before settling into a dimly lit haze. Eloise’s breath stalled. The imposing dark felt like a threat, as if the lights could keep the monsters at bay. It only made a little sense, in the way that a child feels safe from the monsters under their bed as long as their nightlight is plugged in.

Except that these monsters were real. The most dangerous in the country. And she was currently feet away from the monster that made even other monsters run.

He hadn’t seemed so bad in the time that she’d known him. Quiet, impassive, yet twisting her gut with pity any time she eyed his barbaric restraints. The least she could do–while crossing off her hours–was to read the supervillain a story every few days. She couldn’t change his fate. Couldn’t make him more comfortable. What she could do was rattle off, sheepishly, about fictional worlds and impactful characters in literature and the way that a well-crafted story could transport you somewhere better.

A crash, gunshots, a scream. Tension racketed through Eloise’s shoulders. More shouts chased thundering footsteps.

Things were going very, very, wrong. And she was very much out of her depth.

Eloise jolted as something struck the door, her special-edition copy of Mary Shelly's Frankenstein falling to the ground and skidding away.

Finally, the lights cut out. With it, every noticeable piece of tech died. All of the energy felt sucked out of the room as if vacuumed. The camera’s blinking light disappeared. Alarms that should have been wailing cut silent. Speakers, keypads, and security systems, all dead. The secondary generator hadn’t sprung to life yet. That meant that this was more than a simple power outage. This was a calculated revolt.

 Eloise’s mind raced through a list of everything else that must have been failing. Coms. Sedative gas. Shock collars. Layers and layers of security locks…

Power dampeners.

Panic clamped vice-like and suffocating around her throat. Artisan’s collar was no longer blinking. 

She froze in the eerie silence of the cell, afraid of shattering the fragile calm. Her heart thumped, rabid, against her ribs.

Chains rattled and clinked to the floor.

Eloise bolted blindly for the door, smacking her palm against the DNA scanner while frantically swiping her “Volunteer Staff” badge through the card reader. When neither miraculously came to life, she resorted to banging on the door.

“Let me out, let me out! Guard!”

The door could only be opened by one person inside the cell and one outside simultaneously unlocking the security checkpoints. Even if the power were on, if the guard on the other side was gone…

The emergency floodlights kicked on, bathing the building in startling fluorescence. Eloise flinched, briefly stunned.

Hands grabbed her firmly from behind, yanking her backward.

Eloise yelped. “No, please–!”

The spot that she had been standing in exploded, steel door and concrete chunks collapsing into the room in a barrage of shrapnel. Something–no, someone–landed, bones crunching, at her feet. The guard who had last been standing on the opposite side of the door lay motionless. His blood puddled the floor, staining the soles of her Converse sneakers.

A horrified sound choked in Eloise’s throat.

Another supervillain strode in, eyes alight with hatred and something more–power. His lip curled, waving a mocking hand–engulfed in green energy–at the guard’s corpse. “God. I’ve wanted to do that for far too long. That one always got on my nerves.”

Artisan looked unimpressed. “You’re making a mess in my cell.”

Eloise’s breath caught. Hearing the supervillain’s voice was jarring. Artisan rarely spoke. Not that any of the other staff had ever actually attempted conversation with him… But even in news clips and YouTube videos, he carried himself with the kind of self-assured quiet of someone who had absolutely nothing to prove. His lethal efficiency did more for his reputation than any words could.

The other man was a villain named William Frenzy, a telekinetic with a gleeful taste for violence.

Faced with Artisan’s startling calm, Frenzy… paused. Faltering on a tight rope he had moments before been strolling across. 

“Yes, well. It won’t have to be your cell much longer, will it? They can’t stop all of us.” He smirked at the dead body on the floor. “Some of them can’t even stop one of us.”

Eloise shrank back toward the corner nearest the door, agonizingly slow, willing the ugly shadows from the artificial lighting to swallow her up while the supers focused on each other. She was the kind of person that people tended not to notice; a background character in the perimeter of a story that the protagonist would meet once and never spare a thought again. She wished, then, that invisibility really was her superpower.

Artisan said nothing, his steely gaze fixed upon Frenzy.

Frenzy floundered beneath the scrutiny. The smugness buffered on his face. Finally, he huffed, crossing his arms. “I made you a nice and easy door out. You’re welcome.” He flicked a hand toward the gaping hole in the wall.

Eloise inched further toward it.

Artisan tutted, and while it wasn’t aimed at her, it shot a cold thrill up her spine. She froze, briefly, before continuing her tantalizing escape. She listened to Artisan speak again. 

“I did not need anything from you. I’ll be getting out regardless. You on the other hand…” 

Eloise stared as Frenzy’s skin shrank taut against his bones, the frame of him creaking and groaning like an old tree in the wind. The air choked out of him, fingers grabbing at his jaw as it stretched open too wide. The corners of his lips tore, slitting his mouth into a gaping maw.

The faintest of smiles graced Artisan's lips as he continued, soft as ever. “Say sorry.”

Eloise didn’t wait to see the carnage through, slipping out into the hall and running.

The other sectors were washed in the same sterile glow as Artisan’s cell was, blue-tinged and horrible, like the lights in a dentist's office. She kept to the edge of things as best she could, clinging to the walls and dark corners.

There was brawling in every sector—guards with weapons drawn mowed to the ground by the creatures they had wardened for so long. A villain fell as shots rang out. Another grabbed the guard from behind, cracking his skull against their knee. 

The smell of blood stung Eloise’s nostrils. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t breathe.

She turned to flee down another hall, but two fighting inmates crashed into the doorway in front of her.

Eloise squealed, jerking backward into the belly of the room's chaos.

Don't notice me, don't notice me, don't notice me.

Everyone was so occupied by their chosen prey, maybe she could fade into the background. Maybe she could–

Her heel caught on something and she tumbled, gracelessly, to the floor. It took her several moments to register the lake of blood seeping warm and sticky into her clothing. 

Terror blurred her brain in a white flash bang.

Disappear, disappear, disappear…

“Mm. What do we have here?”

Eloise couldn’t bring herself to lift her head. She clamped her eyes shut, another child’s illusion of protection. 

The villain opposite her chuckled. He ripped her volunteer badge off of its clip against her chest. Her eyes snapped open again. She recognized him as a ringleader among superpowered thieves. They called him Volt.

“Volunteer, eh? A pretty thing like you should know better than to willingly set foot in a prison full of men with nothing left to lose. It’s been a long sentence, darling. I could make excellent use of your volunteer services. Get up.”

Numbly, ears full of static, Eloise shook her head.

Volt frowned, electricity jumping to life in his palms. “No?” He reached for her, hand nearing her throat.

“Keep your hands to yourself or I will remove them.” 

Artisan’s voice was calm. His eyes were not.

The room quieted.

Spatters of red decorated Artisan’s prison uniform. A few drops dotted his face and he brushed them away with his knuckles, smearing the crimson across his cheek. Almost lazily, he popped his neck and stretched his shoulders, no doubt sore from the strain his restraints kept him in.

The villain across from Eloise paused, sparks still dancing across his fingertips. He regarded Artisan with the same wary caution as Frenzy had.

Before he'd been… Before Artisan had…

Eloise swallowed back the nausea climbing her throat.

Finally, Volt’s hand lowered. “She's yours?”

“She's hers. Step away.”

The man hesitated a moment too long. Artisan didn't offer a second warning. 

As if puppeted, the man's fingers raised to gauge at his own eyes. He screamed, the faint evidence of Artisan’s power shimmering over him. He clawed, next, at the skin on his face, peeling it back like wet wallpaper. 

As promised, his wrists crunched and bent, wrenching all on their own at impossible angles.

Eloise covered her ears, unable to bear the screaming. She felt sick.

“Stop,” she whispered finally. “Please.”

It did. The man collapsed into a sobbing, bloodied heap.

When Eloise managed to look at Artisan, she startled to find his attention fixed on her.

They stared at each other for a stretch of silence that itched. She imagined being forced to choke on her own lungs, or her skull constricting in on itself until it squashed her brain into pulp. For being so bold as to run, he might snap her legs and reaffix them the wrong direction, or splinter her bones to poke, grotesque, out of her skin. They always did say that his victims were his personal works of art, bodies twisted into shells of monsters.

He crooked a finger, beckoning her.

The edges of her vision swooped fuzzy and vertiginous. She rose onto wobbly knees and pushed herself to her feet. When she swayed, Artisan caught her elbow, slipping an arm around her waist to lead her forward.

He did not look back at the others, with complete confidence that no one would challenge him.

No one did.

Eloise was barely aware of taking one step after another. When they arrived back in the villain’s cell, the bodies of Frenzy and the dead guard, thankfully, were gone, though the floor was streaked with the drag lines of their blood.

She wrenched her gaze away.

Artisan’s hand moved further down her arm to her wrist, gesturing that she sit on his bed. When she shifted to do so, his grip tightened, tugging her to a stop. She frozen and tried to read his face. 

His dark brows were furrowed, suspicious eyes flicking from hers down to her hand.

He pulled down her sleeve and held her wrist up between them, revealing the power-blocking cuff clamped around it. His head cocked. He waited.

Eloise swallowed. “I’m not a super. I mean- not a super-super. Just a…..no one.”

“A no-one who volunteers at The Max? With a power-dampener?”

“They’re terms of my probation,” she blurted. “A thousand hours of community service here and a power-inhibitor for a year. I think they put me here to threaten me with where I could end up if I continue on like… Um…”

“Me.”

“A villain,” she clarified, as if that was better. 

Her gaze flitted from the fingers wrapped around her wrist and up to the villain’s face again. The harsh lighting haloed him, dimly silhouetting his face. He looked haunting. He looked lovely. A beautiful house, old and creaking, wrapped in ghosts like a bride’s veil and left to rot. 

“What did you do?”

“I…” Eloise felt very small. “I lied about being powered on my documents. So that they wouldn’t put me on the registry. When they found me out, I tried to run away.”

Artisan’s scrutiny burned her cheeks. He let go of her wrist.

“...What can you do?”

“Nothing special,” she said, cradling her wrist–wholly uninjured as it was–in her other hand. “It doesn’t even work most of the time. My power is sort of…blending in. Going unnoticed. When it’s working, I could stand in a the White House and people’s attention would glide over me as if I belonged there. Not quite invisible, but… It just tricks your brain into not thinking twice.”

Artisan’s eyes narrowed.

Eloise flinched back a step, stumbling back over her fallen book onto the bed. She stared at him.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

Some of the tension eased from her shoulders, but she still waited for the catch. “Why aren’t you out there with the rest of them? Trying to escape?”

The villain considered her for a long moment. He sat down beside her, and the hard cot creaked beneath his weight. “Mm. That’s just it. No one inside the prison could have blown the power-dampeners. They require someone with powers to turn them off or on, and the security is impenetrable. My team has tried. Besides, if this was a simple power outage, the inhibitors would still be on. But they’re not. This was premeditated–and no one imprisoned here could have done it. No one on the outside could have done it. So. Process of elimination. Who’s left?”

That was the most Eloise had ever heard Artisan speak, and she could only sit and listen intently–As he had when she’d read him stories. Her brain whirred in a jumbled jigsaw of puzzle pieces. 

“It… It could only be an inside job.” She wet her lips. “The heroes- The higher-ups- They want the prisoners to break out so that they can kill them. A clean massacre. Justified under the law. The world’s most dangerous criminals could never be allowed to escape…”

Artisan smiled and it swirled something in her insides. “A convenient way to get rid of all of the pesky criminals clogging up the system. I’d bet anything that there are 50 snipers surrounding the building, waiting to slaughter anyone who steps foot outside.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” Artisan agreed, his smile easing into something softer; something with less feral teeth.

“Thank you for helping me,” Eloise whispered. “What do we do now?”

Artisan hummed. He bent down and swept up her book, dropping it into her lap. He laid back against his pillow and crossed his arms behind his head. The bloodspots on his skin and clothes glittered in the lowlight. 

“Keep reading. I want to know how it ends.”

Part 2

[crushpunky]

drew tells actress!reader how he feels

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

this takes place when they first confessed their feelings + contains some minor references to new girl, but you don’t need to have seen it

Madelyn and Chase sat on one end of the couch, a bowl of popcorn sitting between the two of them and their eyes glued onto the TV. Y/n sat on the opposite end, snacking on whatever snacks they had ransacked the pantry of Drew and hers’ apartment to find. Drew, however, was in the shower, leaving y/n alone with the couple.

“Looking back at it, it was so obvious Nick was in love with Jess.” Y/n pointed to the episode of “New Girl” that was playing on the TV.

“What do you mean?” Chase asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“I mean… the way he looks at her. It’s so obvious.” Y/n said, her mouth full of pretzels. Madelyn and Chase shared a quick glance between each other before giggling.

“What?” Y/n scowled as the couple continued to look between each other and laugh mischievously at some sort of joke she clearly wasn’t in on.

“No it’s just funny because…” Madelyn stirred her drink absentmindedly, “that is exactly how Drew looks at you.”

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh. Drew? Drew Starkey? As in her roommate and best friend? The guy who was almost annoyingly handsome and charismatic? The guy she had been crushing on for the past few months? Haha. No. She knew Drew like the back of her hand, and she knew that he most certainly did not look at her, or think of her, like that. 

“Very funny, Mads.” Y/n said, rolling her eyes.

“What’s so funny?” A voice said from behind the couch. Y/n turned to see Drew, fresh out the shower, his damp hair styled messily and still dripping water onto his topless torso. He climbed over the back of the couch, reaching over y/n’s head to steal a handful of Goldfish. Once he settled, he glanced around at everyone, his eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“Nothing, Drewseph. We’re just watching New Girl. Quietly.” Y/n said eyeing Chase and Madelyn harshly. The two of them raised their hands in surrender before returning their attention back to the screen. Drew slung an arm onto the back of the couch, his arm perching just behind y/n’s head and hand brushing her shoulder gently. Her body felt like it was on fire, electrified just from his casual touch. She tried her best to focus on the TV, focus on whatever was going on with Nick and Jess, but she just couldn’t.

She spared a glance at Drew for a second, hoping he couldn’t tell how much she was freaking out right now. However, she wasn’t expecting his soft blue gaze to already be looking at her. Their eyes met each other for a moment before both of them quickly turned back to the TV. Y/n heard a small chuckle and peered over to Madelyn and Chase, who both had big grins on their faces.

Told ya. Madelyn mouthed with a smirk and teasing raise of her eyebrows. With a sigh, y/n turned back towards the TV, her mind racing as she felt Drew’s fingers dance along the bare skin of her shoulder.

Once Madelyn and Chase had left, y/n and Drew decided to watch one more episode before heading off to bed, both of them not quite ready to end the night yet.

“What was going on with you and Chase and Mads?” Drew asked, his fingers absentmindedly twirling a piece of y/n’s hair.

“What do you mean?” Y/n asked, silently cursing Drew for being so observant. Admittedly, that was one of her favorite things about him. How he always managed to just know what was going on with her, whether she was sad or happy or hungry or tired, he just knew.

“You guys were like shooting glares at each other all night and giggling.” Drew said, his eyes scanning over y/n’s face slowly, taking in every detail within the glow from the TV. Y/n lips parted for a second to speak, trying to think of what to say.

“I— they—” Y/n stammered before swallowing harshly, her gaze falling to her lap, “they’re convinced you have a crush on me and I told them that that’s not true.”

Y/n could feel Drew’s fingers stop playing with her hair and hesitantly looked up to see his face. His cheeks were a soft pink, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked back at her.

“Would you… like it if that were true?” Drew said gently. Y/n could feel her heart hammering, her eyes unable to tear away from Drew’s.

“It doesn’t matter how I’d feel, Drew.” Y/n whispered, her voice wavering slightly.

“Of course it does. I care about how you’d feel.” Drew replied, his eyes trailing down to y/n’s lips.

“Why?” Y/n said quietly, her voice barely audible.

“Because I wouldn’t want to make myself look like a fool when I tell you how I feel.” Drew whispered. Y/n felt herself let out a harsh breath she hadn’t even realized she had been holding. The skin of her shoulder where Drew’s fingertips brushed erupted in goosebumps, traveling down along her arms.

“And how do you feel?” Y/n asked, her hands trembling.

“I… feel like I can’t live without you, that you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me and that… I like you. A lot. A lot more than just a friend should.” Drew murmured, peering at y/n’s face nervously. Y/n gulped harshly, her eyes trailing along Drew’s expression.

This can’t be real. Y/n thought, her mind swirling as it felt like time slowed. She had thought of what it might feel like to have Drew look at her like this, to talk to her like this, sure. But that was only in her wildest dreams that she could conjure that up… but yet, here he was. In front of her, his blue eyes so sincere and his lips parted ever so slightly, his breath slow and warm on her face.

“Drew…” Y/n trailed, her voice barely more than a whisper as their lips finally touched. Drew’s fingers entwined in her hair slowly, pulling her closer to him as if she was going to blow away. As if he was going to lose her. Y/n snaked her hands up his bare chest, her thumbs running along his throat before softly running along the sharp angle of his jaw. Her eyes were screwed closed, too focused on savoring the feeling of his lips on her, his arms on her, his breath on her, his taste on her…

They both pulled away with a gasp, their chests heaving and lips swollen.

“How would you feel if I… felt the same way?” Y/n panted, her hand still resting along the hollow of Drew’s throat. A smile danced its way onto his lips, causing the dimple she loved so much to appear.

“I would like that. Very much.” Drew whispered, pressing his lips to hers once more.

[penny00dreadful]

Before He Cheats

AO3

“Munson Home for the Recently Deceased, you stab ‘em we slab ‘em. How may I direct your call?”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds before a light chuckle crackled through the speaker.

“Is that really how you answer the phone?”

Eddie smiled to himself. “Got you to laugh didn’t it?”

“Suppose.”

“Plus, no one calls the landline anymore unless they’re trying to sell something. You trying to sell me something?”

“No. No, I uh… I’m looking for an Eddie Munson?”

“Only an Eddie Munson? Only one? What a terrible fate. Well you’re in luck, my good sir. This is he. What can I do you for?”

The voice on the end of the line gave a light laugh once again but went silent almost immediately after. 

Eddie stared at the wall in his apartment, waiting for something to happen. In the quiet he could hear the guy letting out little nervous breaths before one big inhale.

“I um. I’m sorry to have to tell you like this, I’d prefer to do it face to face but I don’t know where you live and you probably wouldn’t even want me at your house afterwards and I did find you on social media but it’s not something I wanted to do in DM’s, you deserve better than that-”

“Okay, hold on, slow down.” Eddie tried to ignore the panic starting to kick around in his heart. “Is someone dead? Is someone injured?”

“No! No, Jesus, I’m sorry. I told Robin that I’d be terrible at this but I couldn’t just let it go on without saying anything-”

“You haven’t really said anything. You’re just rambling.”

“Right. Sorry. Again, blame Robin. I’m around her too much. But… okay. Do you know Rick Lipton?”

Eddie felt the panic leave him, replaced only by irritation as he sighed through his nose. “What did he do now?”

“He… um. I’m sorry to ask this but are you his partner? Like, romantic partner?”

Eddie scowled. “And if I am?”

There was movement against the line, almost as if the other guy was nodding. 

“Shit.” He muttered before picking back up in volume again. “Listen, I didn’t know. He told me he was single and I only found out because Robin lives in the same building as you and she saw him with you and asked the neighbours and they said you’d been a thing for like two years and you have to believe me if I’d known I wouldn’t have touched him, I don’t fuck around with cheaters-”

“How long?”

Eddie had expected to feel betrayal or sadness, devastation or heartbreak and they were there. 

They were just lost under a tidal wave of anger and indignation. He was even surprised at himself that he didn’t feel more caught off guard. 

Rick had never cheated before (that Eddie was aware of) but he had always had a wandering eye and a few off-colour jokes about 'going to find someone more his speed’. 

They’d never really felt all that funny.

Maybe it was because their relationship had felt dead for the last few months. 

They barely talked, they just existed around each other. The sex had all but dried up as well and whenever they did have it, it was completely impersonal. Get in, get out, move back to separate parts of the apartment if either of them even bothered to stay over. 

More often than not one of them would make a quick exit back to their home.

Eddie had been thinking a breakup was on the horizon for a while. 

But that was no excuse to cheat. 

At least have the fucking decency to end the relationship first before going out and chasing tail. 

“Um, like four or five weeks." The guy on the phone muttered, clearly ashamed. "I’m so sorry Eddie, I swear to god if I knew I would never… I have- I have proof if you need it.”

“If it’s a sex tape I don’t think I want to see it.” Eddie was trying really hard to maintain his calm and not snap through the phone. 

If what the guy was saying was true, then he was an innocent party in this.

Didn’t make it hurt any fucking less though.

Didn’t make him any less pissed.

“If- no it’s not a sex tape.” The voice sounded scandalised. “Fucking hell, do people actually do that?”

“Yes.”

There was a pause, as though the guy was waiting for Eddie to continue but Eddie just let it hang in the air. He wasn’t ashamed. 

But he was definitely going to have to purge those files now.

“Okay well… It's just a photo. I posted it to my insta a week ago but he was really weird about it being up, which in hindsight makes a lot of sense, so I took it down.” He said, quiet and sad. “I can send it to you if you want.”

Eddie pursed his lips. 

“Please hold.”

He unceremoniously dropped the phone with a clatter, leaving it dangling from the cord, bouncing against the wall and probably blowing the guy’s ear out. 

Maybe in the morning Eddie would feel a little bad about that, but for now it just felt very satisfying. 

He rifled around in his bedsheets for his phone before making his way back to the landline. 

“Still there?”

“Yes. Ow, by the way.”

Eddie just shrugged, well aware the guy couldn’t see him but whatever. He wasn’t in the mood. 

“Send it on.”

Only a moment later his phone pinged with a notification and Eddie opened the photo.

Well. 

Shit. 

There was Rick, in amongst a crowd at some nightclub, plastered to the side of some pretty boy who looked like he had a regular workout routine. 

Ugh.

Eddie couldn’t handle gym bunnies, the amount they could bench or whatever was all they ever talked about. But this must be the guy on the other end of the phone. 

@King.Steve.Of.House.Hair

Rick had King Steve’s earlobe in between his teeth and from the angle of the selfie Eddie could see his hands were wandering.

It looked like some kind of Halloween night, if the teeny tiny little sailor outfit was anything to go by.

God damn.

But even so, Eddie still wanted to be sure that what he was seeing was… well. What he was seeing. 

“Steve, is it?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry, I didn’t realise I hadn’t given you my name yet.” Steve let out a nervous laugh, like he was expecting Eddie to jump through the phone and strangle him.

Eddie was fit to strangle someone but Steve wasn’t in his crosshairs.

“Don’t worry about it. Tell me, what does Rick have tattooed on his ass?”

“Uh…” Steve paused. “He doesn’t have a tattoo on his ass? Not that I’ve seen anyway. But I can tell you he does have his taint pierced. For some fucking reason.”

Eddie gave a quiet laugh at that, despite the monumentally fucked up situation and the final cracking piece of his heart breaking away. Rick had that piercing by the time Eddie had met him. He insisted he’d gotten it because it was sexy. Eddie was pretty sure he’d just lost a bet.

Eddie was no stranger to intimate piercings himself. He had his frenum done a while back. 

That one he’d definitely done because it felt sexy.

He looked back down at his phone, idly flipping through Steve’s profile and all of his other photos. 

He probably shouldn’t be thinking about how hot Steve was, how it was juxtaposed with a soft cuteness that almost felt like it didn’t belong to someone with such broad shoulders and defined arms. 

He hated himself for thinking about Steve’s attractiveness. 

It felt wrong.

Even though he was pretty much single now.

Even if Rick didn’t know it yet. 

But fuck him. 

He’d find out.

One way or the other.

And Eddie was nothing if not a drama queen.

But he wouldn’t do anything tonight.

No tonight he would just… hurt.

And smoke.

A lot.

“Eddie?” Steve’s voice came through to him. “You okay?”

Eddie swallowed, finding it a little more difficult than he expected it to be and realised he’d just been staring down at his phone in silence. 

The screen had gone black.

“Yeah.” He answered, his voice thick. “I’m fine.”

Steve hummed. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Eddie laughed. It was wet and sniffly and vulnerable and horrible. “What are you gonna do from over the phone far away… wherever you are?”

“I dunno. I could just… talk to you I guess? Help you plot Rick's murder?”

Eddie laughed again, a little brighter this time. "Yeah, that could be good. But if I'm plotting murder I want to be a little more comfortable." He unlocked his phone and hit the follow button on Steve’s account. “This conversation requires lounging, not standing by the landline.”

“Oh-”

“How do you feel about a video call?”

A notification popped up on his phone, letting him know Steve had followed him back.

“A video call is fine.”

“Great.” Eddie paused. He wasn’t even sure how to end this call with the guy his boyfriend of two years had been cheating on him with and who he’d just asked if he wanted to video call so Eddie could smoke his feelings away. 

He just didn’t want to feel alone right now. 

He could have called Chrissy or one of the boys to come hang out with him but that would require explaining everything over again and he really didn’t want to do that right now. 

Before he could think much more on it Eddie said a quick “Okay bye,” and hung up.

Steve knew the story and Steve had been wronged too and maybe they could just be mad and sad together. 

He unlocked his phone again as he walked back into his bedroom and hit the video call button, not even bothering to turn his light on, leaving himself and his room shrouded in darkness. He propped his phone up on his desk, angled towards the window where he sat on the sil and started to roll, using the streetlights streaming in the window to see.

Steve picked up only a moment later and Eddie got his first good look at the guy live in action and not through a photo online.

He was sitting at what looked like a kitchen table fully lit by the overhead lights, a pair of wire framed glasses perched on his nose and his hair messy and dishevelled, like he’d been stressfully running his hands through it, which he probably had been. 

Eddie didn’t know how stressed he would be if he had to make a call to someone to tell them their long term partner had been cheating.

He was leaning forward, elbows on the table in a cosy yellow sweater with a slight worry between his eyebrows. 

He looked so soft. 

Nothing at all like the nautical sea queen look he’d been giving in those photos. He looked comfortable and gentle and a little worried.

“Eddie?”

“Mm-hm?” He hummed, bringing the joint to his mouth and lighting it up before pushing open the window a little more and exhaling out into the dark rainfall outside.

“You okay?”

He shrugged. “I will be.”

“I’m not asking about whether you will be, I‘m asking about now.”

Eddie looked over and watched Steve as Steve watched him through the screen.

“Alright, then no. I’m not okay.” He took another drag. “I’m fucking pissed. I’m sad, I’m upset, I’m hurt, I’m angry, I’m disappointed and I don’t know if all of that is directed more at him for doing this to me or me for not expecting it.”

“How were you supposed to expect it?” Steve shook his head in disbelief. “No one should have to expect to be cheated on.”

“Dunno.” Eddie shrugged, looking back out the window. “Relationship was dying anyway.”

“Okay, and? That doesn’t make cheating okay.”

“Suppose not.”

“I’m sorry, for what it’s worth. For my part in it.”

Eddie glanced back over, taking in the downward tilt of Steve’s mouth and his big sad eyes.

“S’not your fault. You were wronged too.”

“I guess, but…” Steve bit his lip and looked up from the screen, casting his eyes around his kitchen like something was going to pop out and answer whatever question was running through his head. 

Eddie waited. The guy had been very gracious so far and he seemed to genuinely feel bad for all the mess he’d been wrapped up in. 

“I…” Steve continued. “I know how this thing usually goes. You find out you’ve been cheated on and you still love your partner so you tend to focus all your anger towards the person they cheated with rather than the person who actually wronged you.” He looked down, fiddling with some kind of flash card on the table in front of him.

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.” Eddie stubbed his joint out, happy enough with his current buzz. He was sufficiently mellowed, he hadn’t cried yet though that would probably come once he was in bed, but his anger had simmered down to a level where he didn’t feel like putting his fist through a wall but still angry enough to plot.

“I am, I guess.”

Eddie nodded. “This happened to you before?” 

That was probably rude. His filter malfunctioned at the best of times but when he smoked it was all but gone.

“Yeah.” Steve stared down at the cards in his hands. “My mom had to put up with my dad’s infidelity a lot. And my ex-girlfriend cheated on me a while back.” Steve paused before taking a deep breath. “Rick was actually my first attempt to get back into the dating world so…”

“So we can both be sad and angry together.”

“Yeah.” Steve smiled and Eddie stood up, plucking his phone from his desk and settling it on his bedside table, switching his lamp on and throwing himself face down on his bed, probably barely visible to Steve.

“We can be sad and angry together.”

Eddie glanced up. Now that he was closer to his phone, he could better see exactly what Steve was fiddling with, he could read some of the text on the card.

“Stevie.” Eddie sat up, moving closer to the phone and unable to stop the smirk running over his face. Steve’s eyes snapped up towards him. “Did you write out flash cards for when you called me?”

Steve’s eyes widened before he unceremoniously swept all the cards off the table in front of him, his cheeks turning a terrific shade of red and he leaned his face on his hand, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. 

“No.”

It was adorable. Incredibly dorky and adorable.

Eddie laughed, full on braying belly laughs, collapsing backwards onto his bed. When he peeked back up to look at his phone through his giggles, Steve’s face was somehow even redder. 

“Oh my god.” Eddie breathed. “That’s darling.”

“Shut up.”

“No, no. It’s really very sweet.”

“Ugh. Whatever.” Steve rolled his eyes but was still smiling, still had a blush lighting up his cheeks.

Eddie settled himself back against his headboard. “Actually, listen, let me ask you something.”

“Okay?”

“Does Rick know? Does he know that you know? Or that you told me?”

“No.” Steve answered, finally relaxing his fake nonchalance into real relaxation, folding his hands on the table and propping his chin up on them. “I figured if anyone had the right to rip his balls off it would be you.”

Eddie nodded. 

That he could understand. 

“I get that, but there’ll be no ball ripping from where I stand. No, I want to hit him where it hurts.”

“Woulda hurt me plenty.”

“Oh, I’m sure. But the only thing Rick loves more than his own balls is his car.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, he’s like, obsessed with that thing. It’s weird. It’s not even that nice of a car.”

“I’d love to say he has bad taste but considering he picked the both of us, I’m pretty sure his tastes are actually immaculate.”

“Just his decisions are bad.”

“Exactly.”

“Well.” Steve sighed. “I’d love to help any way I can. I hate that I was involved in this, in what he did to you.”

“To us, Stevie. To us.”

“Right, so what’s the plan then?”

“When are you due to see him next?”

Eddie pulled his van into the parking lot of the bar. It was halfway across town and a place that he never frequented if he could help it. Rick liked it though, always had. Eddie just liked other places around town more.

But it could be cute, he supposed. A small little country and sports type place that had a rainbow flag behind the bar and a small number of regulars who, according to Steve, wouldn’t do anything unless you got between them and their drink. 

He knew that Steve was inside with Rick, playing up the flirty angle and acting tipsier than he actually was to put him at ease.

Steve had mentioned one of his signature moves involved pool, bending over the table and wiggling a little bit to keep the attention on him. Pulling out a little pout whenever he missed a shot or asking for help to line up his cue.

Eddie would be more upset by the fact that he was missing the sight of it if he didn't know he'd have the opportunity to see it himself at some point in the future.

They had talked for so long that first night, long enough that the sun was starting to come up by the time they'd both dragged themselves away from their phones to sleep.

They’d talked about their families, their friends, what they were doing in life right now as opposed to what they had hoped they would be doing when they were teenagers. They talked about their school selves and their dating lives and as the conversation wore on Eddie found himself thinking again and again about how long it had been since it had felt so easy to talk to someone like that.

It had been a very long time since Rick had put any effort into getting to know him as he grew through their two years together, like he expected Eddie to stay the same person as he was at the start of the relationship.

After that first night where they’d figured out their master plan, he and Steve had just… kept talking. Throughout the rest of the week up until tonight, they were in almost constant contact, only really taking a break to sleep and work.

Eddie felt connected to Steve and in some roundabout way he was thankful to Rick for bringing him into his life.

He’d even met Robin in passing one day, living two floors below him, holding the door open for him as he tried to wrestle with grocery bags. 

She was so weird. He kind of loved her the second she opened her mouth. Honest, but with the sharpest tongue he’d ever met on a person. 

She had knocked on his apartment door later that evening to tell him Steve was calling over to visit and asking if he wanted to come around to meet him. 

Steve had apparently delegated the asking to her because he was too nervous to do it himself.

Again, adorable.

Steve was somehow even sweeter and even saltier in person than he was over the phone and Eddie tried hard, he tried really hard not to look too much or let his fucking horomones run away with him but Jesus. H. Christ it was difficult. 

The sweetness of his soft sweaters and polos, his gentle smiles and understanding words matched with his salty mean girl attitude that would slip out every so often and the bitchiest of eye rolls that made Eddie’s heart jump.

Eddie was also trying to feel bad about what was happening but honestly, he was losing reasons to care that much.

He hadn’t texted or called Rick once in the last week and Rick himself had never reached out which all at once made Eddie realise he was the primary communicator in the relationship and it hadn’t been reciprocated in a long, long time. 

Adding onto that was the knowledge that Rick was still fucking cheating on him and was in regular contact with Steve left Eddie only half heartedly feeling bad.

He and Steve would go over the screenshots of the conversation together every night and every night Eddie found it harder and harder to hang up the phone.

He was pretty sure Steve was feeling the same way. 

They kept just catching each other staring. Or smiling or, pulling back from touching too much and he was almost sure that as soon as Rick was out of the picture for the both of them, something was going to blossom.

Even now, with Steve inside, flirting up a storm with Eddie’s ex-boyfriend who didn’t know he was an ex yet, they would be ending the night together. 

Robin was waiting back at her apartment with an alibi ready if Eddie needed it though he suspected he wouldn’t.

Neither he nor Rick had a great track record with the police and it would be more trouble than it was worth to get them involved.

Speaking of, Eddie spotted Rick’s car, some souped up four wheel drive monstrosity of small dick syndrome sitting in the shadows and away from the cameras of the bar where Steve had convinced him to park with a suggestion of something happening in those shadows later on. 

He hopped out of his van and threw open the back doors, grabbing his bag of goodies before sidling around Rick’s car to wait.

When the chords of some Shania Twain number started to leak through the walls, the signal he’d been waiting for, the sound loud enough to drown out what Eddie would be doing, he dropped his bag to the floor.

Curling his keys into his fingers and with almost a skip in his step Eddie began to carve a stripe through the immaculate and expensive paint work. Working his way around to the drivers side, he lifted the key up before bringing it back down.

With a little bit of sickening glee, he hacked the word CHEATER into the side of the car, the side that would be immediately visible from the bar door and the side Rick would have to see every time he wanted to get in and get out of the driver's seat.

At least until he paid a bomb to get it fixed.

Eddie had connections in this town. Working as a mechanic here for years would do wonderful things to extend this pain. 

Rick knew fuck all about cars. 

Tucking his keys back into his pocket, he sidled back around to his duffel bag, unzipping it and pulling out his Stanley blade.

Unsheathing it, he gripped it tight in his hand and punched it down into the nearest tyre, listening with satisfaction as the thing slowly deflated before moving onto the other three.

A second Shania song had started up. 

He could hear Steve crooning out from inside, getting louder and Eddie knew he was running out of time. 

He pulled Steve’s baseball bat from the duffle and gave it a little twirl, the same one he’d seen Steve do when he’d first handed it off and he had tried so hard not to be attracted to it. 

He’d failed miserably. 

Maybe Eddie could deal with a gym bunny if that gym bunny was Steve.

With an almighty swing, he brought the bat down, shattering one of the headlights with an almighty crash that wasn’t quite drowned out by the karaoke inside.

Rearing back Eddie swung again, smashing the other headlight and while the music didn’t cut off, he could clearly hear Steve inside calling out for Rick to “Wait!”

Okay, only a few seconds left.

Pulling the bat back and letting the anger and betrayal and indignation flow through him, he brought the bat down hard into the windshield where it embedded itself, the spider cracks of the tempered glass making the thing practically opaque.

The bat was fucking stuck.

Eddie knew that if he was able to pull hard enough he would be able to release the whole windshield from the car but he didn’t even have the strength in him to budge the bat.

“What the fuck?!”

Eddie slowly released his hands from the bat and turned, looking at Rick standing in the doorway of the bar, his mouth hanging wide open in shock, unable to believe what he was seeing. Steve was standing just behind him, with one hand over Rick’s chest.

To anyone else it would look like a comforting gesture, maybe. A show of support. 

But Eddie could tell the hand was there to hold Rick back if he decided to lunge. 

Both Steve and Rick dragged their gaze over the flat tyres, the word carved into the side, the bat stuck in the windshield.

“Hey sweetheart.” Eddie called across the distance, feeling comfortable enough to turn his back to pick up his bag, trusting Steve to at least shout if Rick was about to tackle him.

“Eddie,” Rick breathed, still open-mouthed somehow. “What in the god damned hell has gotten into you?!”

“I wasn’t talking to you.” He slung the bag over his shoulder and held his hand out.

Steve patted Rick twice on the chest and stepped out from behind him. 

Rick watched him walk away looking even more bewildered than before.

With one hand Steve took Eddie’s and with the other he grabbed the bat, wiggling it a few times before pulling it free. 

They broke apart as they reached Eddie’s van, Steve climbing into the passenger seat and Eddie throwing his bag in the back before starting up the van from his position in the driver's seat.

He leaned over Steve to shout out of the window, “Have a nice life, asshole!”

As the van tore out of the lot, Steve stretched both hands out of the window, two middle fingers extended until Rick, still frozen on the spot, was out of sight.

When he pulled himself back inside, Eddie saw him glance his way, a huge grin on his face.

Eddie had a smile to match, whooping into the night as they sped down the road.

AO3

@geekymagicalpotato

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the STWG for their motivation.

[observeowl]

Second Chance | Chapter 1 - How It Was

Series masterlist

It was no secret that your marriage with Nat was falling apart. Your friends and families could tell there was no longer that same spark in your eyes when you were with Nat. Deep down, you know it was going downhill, but you were in denial that she was drifting further away from you. The girl you dreamed of chasing since high school and eventually started dating in college. You finally achieved your dreams and didn’t want the perfect fantasy to fall apart, so you continued pretending everything was fine. 

It all began when you started trying for kids. Due to Nat’s history and her work type, you knew that the responsibility lay on you, and you have been going on treatment, but to no success. It has been a year of trying, and the constant negative results make you feel like a failure. It’s worse when your wife has such a hard time showing emotions which cements your thought that whatever you felt was right. 

This, coupled with the long working hours that both of you have, the time spent between you both reduced over the months. Barely a few words were exchanged in the morning before both came back late, too tired to have a conversation or even an argument. The house that both of you bought became a place to sleep rather than a safe place to relax. You found yourself staying behind in the office later to avoid meeting Natasha. Thinking about how you were going to report to your parents even though they already knew about up in heaven. 

The same goes for Natasha. She didn’t say anything, but since she was working with Clint, she was unable to avoid him. And being her work partner for such a long time, he knew when something was wrong. He could tell this wasn’t her usual lousy mood, but something was heavy on her shoulders. He tried getting Nat to talk, but it wasn’t working; she was great at deflecting and making him work as his superior. 

The crack finally shattered when you attended Wanda’s twins’ one-year-old birthday celebration. The standoffish feeling with Natasha affected everyone that Wanda had to pull you aside for a moment to talk.

Trying to keep her composure, you looked at Wanda only to be met with the concerned gaze of her best friend, who had long noticed that something was wrong, falling apart. “It’s nothing. We just disagree on some stuff before coming here.” Nevertheless, you decided to lie, not wanting to ruin the party. 

Wanda looked at you carefully before using her eyes to tell Vision to take care of other guests and keep them away from here. “I know it’s more than that. Everyone knows. Everyone knows how hard you have been trying, and it’s not your fault. Something just can’t be forced.” 

“I know, Wanda. But it doesn’t stop it from hurting.” You told her defeatedly. “I can’t give her what she wants, and she hates me for it.” You found yourself looking for Natasha, who was talking to Steve. She was looking a lot more relaxed being away from you. 

“Just because she’s hurting doesn’t mean you can’t be. It’s a process that both of you have to go through. And you don’t have to do it alone. You have us.” You gave Wanda a grateful smile, but you were done talking about this. You left the corner and went back to the party. 

You tried to have fun, but there was always something nagging behind your mind. This group of friends did not belong to you, and you were here because they were Nat’s friends. You may have gotten closer with them over the years, but they support her through and through. It may be an alcohol-induced thought, but it planted the seed in your head. 

You could see Wanda looking worriedly at you as you were at the doorsteps getting ready to leave with the other guests, but you couldn’t give her anything more than a smile before turning to leave. 

===

“We need to talk, Nat.” You spoke before your mind pulled you back once you reached home after returning from Wanda’s. “We have done enough of hiding from each other. We both know that something has changed between us. We don’t even spend time together anymore.” 

Nat sighed. “Maybe I just need time to figure things out myself, Y/N.” This was exactly why you didn’t want to approach this topic, she gets irritated easily, and her first reaction would be to push everyone out. It would only lead to her saying hurtful things. “I knew since young that I wouldn’t be able to have kids of my own, and now that we are struggling… I need to process that this is a fact that I have to live with.” 

“Don’t you think I’m feeling stressed from all of this? Having to constantly walk on eggshells around you, making sure that you won’t leave.” You patted your chest, feeling wronged. “You don’t have to lie. I know you blame me for not being able to give you what you want. I want this as much as you do!” You forced the tears to roll back, but some managed to sit at the edge of your eyes. Your lips trembled as you stared at her. “I didn’t want to be like this. I didn’t ask to be like this.” 

Looking at Natasha turning and leaving me behind broke you more than you thought it would. You had been used to seeing people’s backs for the longest, but hers hurt the most. You just wanted her to hold you and tell you it would be alright. 

Hot tears rolled down your face, and you walked into the garage, where you were sure that  Natasha wouldn’t hear you break down. You sat in your car for a while before deciding to get away from here. Wanda was right, both of you needed to process this in your own time. You drove out of the street with nowhere in mind. If only you had kept in contact with your friends and not been a hermit since college, you would have somewhere to take refuge. 

You took in your surroundings, seeing that there were no cars around. You didn’t even know how you got to this part of town or if you broke traffic rules. When the light turned green, you stepped on the accelerator going forward. Suddenly a car came from nowhere and crashed right into your car. Everything went black. You opened your eyes as you felt a sharp pain in your chest. You were hanging upside down, suspended by your seatbelt. Your eyes drifted and locked onto your phone, you just wanted to call Nat, but your limbs were too heavy to move. The air was thick with smoke, and it was getting harder to breathe as you faded into darkness once again. 

Series masterlist

@oh-thats-cute

[the-lying-heavens]

Saw you were looking for requests… Robert Chase (House MD) realizes he is in love with reader. F or gn reader is fine I know you’re more comfy with f reader so whatever you want to do is great. How would Chase react? How long did it take him to realize? What would he say or do? If he did confess how would he do it and how would he react after? Head canons, blurb, or a fic is perfect but honestly do what feels right to you. Thanks so much in advance! All the love and support to you, Madzzz. 💜💜💜

"Realisation"

Robert Chase Headcanons

[Robert Chase x doctor!fem!reader]

Masterlist

Warnings: angst, death, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 635 words

A/N: Hello dear! Thank you for the request! I'm gonna try headcanons since it's something I haven't done before. He is my latest obsession. I have a thing for blondes with daddy issues I'm afraid.

You had known Robert Chase for years, long before you ended up on House's team. From med school to residency, you'd always been by each other's side. Through late-night study sessions, exams, and cases.

Now, let's say a surgery went wrong, and the patient died on the table. Foreman announces the time of death:

2:53

Chase couldn't believe it. That wasn't what was supposed to happen. They had been working nonstop on this case for days. They had finally figured out what was wrong. The patient couldn't just die.

The OR is quiet after Foreman announces the time of death.

You exchange a look with Chase, seeing the disbelief and frustration in his eyes. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

He's usually composed in these situations, but today is different. This case was personal to him.

He was barely out of his scrubs before you hugged him tightly. No words were spoken, just the warmth of your embrace.

You felt him freeze for a second, but then, slowly, his arms wrapped around you. He held onto you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

You two went back to your apartment after that and had some wine and takeout. He left at 5.

He's pretty sure that day(night technically) was when he realized he was in love with you.

And that he had been for a while.

It was a hell of a way to find out since it was because of a patient's death

He felt guilty about it.

Then there were other things too, on the one hand, he was scared he was going to ruin your friendship.

On the other, he isn't one to hide how he feels, and it felt wrong not to tell you just how much he wanted to be more than a friend to you.

And you were co-workers.

What if you rejected him if he told you how he felt? He couldn't work with you after that!

It takes a few months of debating— and a 'therapy session' with Wilson— with himself to decide to tell you.

In these months, though, he had started distancing himself from you.

You started to worry. Chase’s distance hurt more than you’d like to admit. You wonder if he’s just tired, or stressed, or if maybe something deeper is going on. Did you do something wrong? You didn't want to lose him.

When you just couldn't take it anymore, you basically hunted him down and dragged him to an empty MRI room to ask him what the hell was going on and if you were the reason for it.

It’s the last thing he wanted—for you to think you had done something wrong.

This wasn't how he wanted to tell you.

He sighs, rubs the back of his neck nervously, and finally says, "This isn't how I wanted to— I don’t know how to say this..." 

"I didn’t want you to think I was—I didn’t want to ruin what we have. But I care about you, like, really care. I'm in love with you."

You can see the fear in his eyes, the fear that he might lose you for good. You feel something else though, relief and joy. You grin brightly.

"You scared me, Chase. I thought I was losing you."

He looks confused. "What? So-"

"I love you too," you confessed. "For a while now, actually."

His expression shifts from confusion to pure joy. The realization that you’ve felt the same way brings a brightness to him.

He grinned, pulling you closer, and for the first time in weeks, everything felt right. You’re no longer just colleagues or friends— and it was exhilarating.

Both of you were sure you would figure out what to do from here.

You were never safe from the team teasing after you two told them you were dating

And of course, money was won and lost by all.

Because of course, they made a bet on you and Chase, What, you didn't expect that?

[m0llygunn]

sans toi (eddie munson x fem!reader)

summary: The realities of life lead you to be apart from Eddie for a few days. When you return, Eddie shows you how much he missed you.

contents: 18+! smut, p in v sex, fluffy/sweet sex, french language. a/n: mini french lesson: 'sans toi' is 'without you', 'toujours avec toi' is 'always with you'. french is my second language and sometimes phrases just sound nicer lol. also, this is way different from my other stuff, just thought id try it out. wc: 1k

Desperate fingertips trail up the underside of your thighs, skin pinching between grip, guiding you closer to his lap.

“Missed you so much.” He whispers, words sailing through the living room of the trailer you’ve become so fond of.

“Was only a few days, Mr Munson.” You tease gently, voice dancing with excitement. You like him when he’s like this. 

Fingertips turn claw like, pressing firmer into your skin leaving lust laced wells in your flesh around each of his 10 digits. Bruising but welcomed. 

He sits up, chasing the lips he’s been dreaming of since he was 15, kissing since only a few months ago. He missed you more than ever. It has only been a few days, but a few days is a few too many. 

Since the day he had your sweet lips on his, tasted the syrup of your goodness, he knew there would never be a moment he didn’t want you, that he didn’t need you. It was damning and fortuitous all at once.

Your hips bracketing his on the worn couch, his fervent grip travels upwards, only stopping when he’s halted by his fingers trapping under the material of your shorts. 

His focus becomes your lips. How you open up just for him, tongue caressing his so perfectly. The way your little gasps get stuck in your throat, and when he bites your plump lower lip, how those gasps mature into moans. He’s never met someone who’s made him feel like this.

Every instant of desire is chased with the unholy pain of love. He loves you. It makes his heart ache, and it’s not fair when he has you like this, making his cock ache just the same. A double edged sword until you give him the gift of making it all better.

“How much did you miss me?” You say, keeping your voice dainty. It reminds Eddie of a wind chime in the breeze of a hot summer's day, sounding like how he imagines stars twinkling in the night sky would. It's beautifully soothing, yet there’s a certain quality that sends shivers down his spine.

“So much, baby.” He answers, words blooming easily from his chest because of their verity. If you asked him to describe how much he missed you, then he’d have no answer. There simply aren't enough words in the English language to describe that. Even if he pulled from every language in the world, they would never translate to the feelings in his heart. 

“You gonna show me how much you missed me?”

Clothing sheds easily, heaps of entwined material gathering on the floor. He unwraps you, replacing each clothed piece with dozens of freely spared kisses in their wake. Positions changing, he brings your back to press gently against the cushions.

Divine and holy; your body below his. Each kiss pressed upon your skin like a prayer. He worships you, showing you his devotion by speckling every inch of your skin with his affection. His favourite part, your eyes; second, your smile; third, your everything. Beyond being just a favourite: your heart, your kindness, your love. 

Nose grazing along your chest, following the trail of his lips, he shows you how much he missed you by going slow. Taking his time, both for you and for him. 

He transcribes each moment to memory. He captures it through his touch, hands grazing over your body, feeling you, touching you, reading you, pleasing you. 

When he finally slips inside, the moan that sings from you is better than he remembers. Sweeter than the one he thought of last night while he laid in bed alone, and more sugary than the one he thought of the day before while he lazied in the very same spot, sans toi.

He rolls his hips into yours, letting his consciousness absorb you entirely. From the way your walls hug him, his cock sliding in and out of the greatest life force he’s ever known, all the way to how your palms wrap around his caging forearms, tethering yourself to him in such an intimate way. He watches you, taking in every detail, every lash that flutters, every waver of your lip, every set in your jaw as you hum out the most beautiful melody for him, he notices it all.

It’s not long before your tethered hands shift to an anchoring hold, pulling him closer to you. Just the same, your hummed melody turns into a pleading cry, strumming every single one of his heart strings. 

You want it faster and Eddie’s never been known to tell you no.

Everything he does is for you, he’d be crazy to deny you of any luxury, he wants you to have it all. The luxury right now is one you’re deserving of, so he moves his hips quicker, picking up speed, doing everything just how he knows you like it. 

He missed you and he’s showing you by using his attentiveness to his advantage. Every sound you make a cue to another action that triggers your next mewl, he operates strategically with his heart guiding him along the way. 

He fights off his own release with vigor, this is for you. But when he feels your walls clamping around him, milking his cock for everything he has he can’t help the way he spasms, the way his body takes over, jolting, abs constricting.

You beg for him, beg to feel it inside, feel him fill you up, and once again, anything you want is yours. Everything Eddie is, everything he has, it’s all yours. 

Cheek meeting your chest, he turns to press a kiss to your sweltering skin. Your fingers card through his hair and he’d pray to every being in the world to stay like this forever, to be with you forever.

While he knows he’ll fall victim to reality from time to time again, Eddie is a dreamer who never wants to be without you again.

Toujours avec toi.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

[bullet-prooflove]

Eric Blackburn, number 4 of the Country Romps prompt list please.

Tagging: @kmc1989 @4everademigod @totalstitchlover19 @doglover-24 @bravo4iscool

See It (NSFW) - Eric wants you to see exactly how he feels.

Scars - Eric loves every single part of you.

Hi,

Thank you so much for the ask. Next time could you pop the full prompt in otherwise it’s a bit of a pain in the ass trying to locate it after a few weeks.

You’re in the garden when Eric gets home, pegging out laundry in a white sundress that makes you look practically ethereal. Your hips sway in time to the country music that emits from the open French windows and it steals his breath away because never for a moment did he think he’d have this, a woman to come home to, one that loved him as much as he loved her. You smile when you look up, your eyes meeting his and in that moment he’s taken back to the first day you met, in a crowded briefing room, shoulders literally touching.

When you’d been introduced as his Intelligence Officer, he thought surely not. You were too soft, too pretty, too delicate but you’d proved him wrong. There’s a core of steel inside of you, a strength and a fire that won’t be dampened no matter how much shit they throw at you. He doesn’t say anything as he approaches you, he drops his duffle bag onto the grass instead before he kisses you.

You taste like strawberries from the jam you’ve been making in the kitchen, like summer and sunshine and everything else that feels like home to Eric. His fingers tangle in your hair and you sigh contently as his tongue delves into the confines of your mouth. Your fists grip his fatigues drawing him closer so that he’s flush against your curves.

It’s been three months since you last saw each other. He’s been on deployment in Afghanistan and you’ve been on desk duty, trapped on base, sifting through intelligence reports because you’re still recovering from the building that collapsed on you.

His thumb traces over the scar that winds down from your right temple and he thinks about how lucky he is that he didn’t lose you, that you managed to survive that nightmare and come back to him.

“Are you going to take me inside?” You ask him as he looks into your eyes his forehead coming to rest upon yours. “Or are you planning on fucking me in the garden?”

He laughs then because it’s that brashness he’s always been attracted too. You’re a little cocky, a little disrespectful and downright filthy when he gets you into the bedroom. You don’t even take off the sundress, just your underwear, which he uses to gag you with because the windows are open and he doesn’t want the neighbours to hear how good he’s fucking you. The thing is you get off on it, and he gets off on that.

It doesn’t take long, three months apart is too much to go without each other and before he knows it, your nails are scratching down his back as that sweet cunt of yours tightens around him. Being with you in that moment, looking into your eyes at the height of climax it sends him hurtling over the edge after you, spilling his release. He stays pressed deep in the aftermath, his lips chasing up the curve of your throat as you pluck the underwear from your mouth and toss them aside.

“I take it you’ve missed me.” You laugh as he finds that sensitive spot, the one just underneath the hinge of your jaw.

“Always.” He mumbles as he begins to guide the straps of your summer dress down over your shoulders. “I always miss you.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[addie-henderson]

hi, idk if request are open but if they are I NEED more percabeth x reader plssssss

like literally anything with them I just love them so much

hey Nonnie, I posted a few posts about them recently but just for you... here are some head canons of what I'm calling the "just some demigod" Au. aka all my Little blurbs with poly percabeth that are loosely linked together

ok so I think the only way polyamory works with these two specifically is if Annabeth falls in love with someone else first. because when you think about it her two major flaws are her jealousy and her pride. and I truly believe if Percy fell in love with someone else first she would kill him and then the other person. so that said...

Annabeth Chase who meets you while she's on a jog around camp to clear her head, it's late and she's narrowly avoiding harpies when she sees you by the lake.

Annabeth Chase who doesn't immediately recognize you as a camper she knows and wonders briefly if you're a camper at all or if somehow you're a mortal or monster or goddess even??? just chilling around camp???

Annabeth Chase who introduces herself to you that night and the two of you talk for 3 hours before having to run from harpies

Percy Jackson who thinks his girlfriend's new friend looks like a princess. especially when she keeps bringing them flowers.

Annabeth Chase who's so nervous around you that when she's trying to ask you to hang out ("as friends") she stutters over her words

"um do you want to go eat me GO OUT TO EAT WITH ME. in a restaurant. in public. with my boyfriend. I'm so sorry."

Percy Jackson who, although he's only been in one relationship in his entire life, is pretty sure this is a date????

Percy Jackson who is the first one to make a move after the three of you are hanging out for a few months. you're hanging in the Poseidon cabin and he has to go and meet up with someone else he says goodbye and press a kiss to annabeth's lips and then yours and just leaves he didn't even think about it

Annabeth Chase who is confused at first as to why she's not jealous??

Percy Jackson who brings you any little trinket of things that you're interested in or anything with flowers on it.

Annabeth Chase who gets flustered Everytime you kiss for 9 months after you're officially together.

Percy Jackson who likes to go on aquarium dates and translate the fish because your face just lights up.

Annabeth Chase who reads to both of you because she has the easiest time making out the words between the three of you and both of you melt into puddles when she speaks in that soft comforting tone meant only for you.

Percy Jackson who once dyed cookies YOUR favorite color because you said his "blue food thing" was "super cool and very him"

Percy Jackson who binges Netflix with you and always lets you pick what you watch.

Annabeth Chase who despises modern television but occasionally suffers through it anyway just to spend time with the two of you

Percy Jackson who is banned from the kitchen in your apartment in New Rome because the first week he almost burnt the entire thing down

Annabeth Chase who is banned from doing laundry after she turned all the white clothes pink.

Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase who are so aggressively competitive with each other that sometimes they argue over nothing and both of their accents (although Percy's new york accent is naturally much stronger than annabeth's southern one) get thicker the more passionate they are about the topic. leaving you there to struggle and pick up bits and pieces of what's being said.

Percy Jackson who is a big believer in gag gifts

Annabeth Chase who insists on putting M&Ms in the popcorn when you go to the movies

Percy Jackson who gets huffy and pouty when you call Annabeth "YOUR girlfriend" instead of "OUR girlfriend "

Annabeth Chase who wears the pants in this relationship.

Percy Jackson and You who are completely ok with that.

[levandright]

im a very introverted person who takes a long while to get close n comfortable with people, but when im really close i turn into the weirdest, and most spontaneous person ever. i generally have a hard time trusting others due to issues from the past, and don't easily forgive ppl if they did me wrong. i tend to not take care of myself properly, and forget to eat properly. my love languages are quality time and physical touch.

‎im an aries, my ideal type is someone who can match my energy and shares the same interest, opinions and values on important things. someone who's kind and respectful to everyone but not touchy with people except close friends.

‎i love love childhood friends to lovers and trouples similar to that! im on the aromantic spectrum (demiromantic) so i need to know/been friends with the person before feelings develop. i love winter, and my fav hobbies are: reading, playing games, painting and dancing!

‎enha or dream <3 and a playlist for me! (thank you in advance pooks, hope your day is well 💜)

FINDING YOUR MATCH...

MATCH FOUND! your first match is... MARK LEE

MARK'S first impression of you was that you were the shy and quiet type, but that quickly changed after knowing you for a few months. your slow transition of shy, and introverted to loud, and spontaneous was quite the surprise if you asked him. he found it quite cute how you showed your true personality as you got to know each other more though!

MARK noticed that you seemed to hide things when you first met, but when you guys finally got together and told him how you had a hard time trusting people because of your past he's understanding about it! he makes it known that whatever you tell him will be kept between you two only.

MARK worries how you don't take yourself well, he will make you promise to him that you'll start eating better, and start treating yourself better in general. makes sure he takes the time to message you on his free time, and breaks to check up on you even in his hectic schedules!

MARK will always make sure he has time for you even with all the comebacks, and promotions on his way. when you guys are out on dates, he always has his hands holding your hands. but oftentimes, you guys will be just at home laying in bed cuddling, and basking in each other's presence while watching a show or movie.

MARK loves to go out on walks with you during winter, and drink hot chocolate together <3 cuddling in your bedroom while you rewatch classic christmas movies.

MARK loves watching you when you're painting, your focused expression being so cute to his eyes. he would love to hear you talk about your favorite books, and maybe he'll give it a read too when he's interested in the story(totally not to talk about it with you) will teach you the steps of some of their songs when you ask him too. will be so so patient when you struggle with a certain step, and would break the steps down in an easier way for you to get it <3

MATCH FOUND! your second match is... PARK JONGSEONG

JAY is such a gentleman, always always has you as one of his top priorities. when he's back home, not busy with tours, promotions, and back to back comebacks he's at your apartment cooking for the both of you. SPOILS you to heaven and back (get it? chase atlantic heaven and back? sorry i'll stop-), sometimes you worry how much money he spends on you... books you've been wanting to read, painting materials you ran out of and the list goes onnnnn.

JAY asks you to teach him how to paint! he loves watching you paint, but he loves it even more if he can join you <3 he wouldn't be as good as you, but he'd do his best to try and paint you! you always praise him for trying his best, and he LOVES it. enjoys going out on picnic dates where you can both paint!

JAY would teach you how to play the guitar if you showed interest in learning it! is a good teacher. probably gets distracted when you're focused on playing the guitar with your eyebrows furrowing, and your adorable focused look. he'll randomly kiss your cheek sometimes which breaks your focus, and turn you into a huge blushing mess once you realize what he did.

your custom playlist made by yours truly <3

✮ lev notes : first matchup for my moot honeychocos <3 hope you love this oomf, had a fun time thinking of your match hehe. i will note that i will write at least 2 matches in reqs with two or more groups but the 2nd matchup will have less content than the first one. ✮ want to find your own match? apply here! curious about other matches?

[piratefishmama]

Beware The Thorns | Part 8

It wasn’t dark, it wasn’t dank, and it wasn’t dimly lit. Steve didn’t like stereotypes, or cliches. He didn’t like the idea of doing his business in a dark warehouse, or a basement with leaky pipes, he liked adequate lighting and things to be at least slightly sanitary. Robin knew these things, his previous ‘meeting’ had been thrown together by someone else, but Robin knew how to set up a damn fine line up.

Four men, and one woman, sat in chairs lined up next to each other, in the living room space of a currently under-development block of apartments. The one they were in was finished as were a few others, but the rest were still being built, workmen having been sent home for the day with a full days wage for their discretion.

All blindfolded, all tied up, Robin stood behind them alongside two men, back facing a wall, never a window, always with her eye on the door. The door where Steve stood, eyes on the four in front of him as he rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, hands already covered by gloves.

“What shook loose?”

“These four have talked to Eddie in the past few months. Cant tell you what they said to him, but all four have had direct verbal contact with him in some way shape or form.” Their involvement in what’d happened wasn’t likely, Robin would have bet a good chunk of whatever Steve would pay her for her work, but Steve needed it.

Steve needed to be sure.

“Just these four?” He loosened his tie before easing it away from his neck and hanging it up onto the rack where his coat and suit jacket rested.

“Mmmhm.” Most steered clear of Eddie, Eddie wasn’t to be spoken to, only Steve could talk to Eddie, and if you had to talk to Eddie, it was short, and sweet, and never about anything involving what Steve did for work.

Robin wouldn’t voice her doubts though, that wasn’t her job. Not in this environment anyway. It was her job to deliver these people, and allow Steve to do the rest. Had they been in his office, or in his living room, had he asked her outside of that room if she actually suspected these people, then perhaps it’d be her role to tell him no.

No Steve, your theories are straight up kookie-dook, Eddie just left because that’s what Eddie had to do.

That was not her role in that room. Her role was to stand there, and be quiet until excused.

“You can leave.” He didn’t look at her as he said that. He didn’t watch her as she nodded once and made for the door. She wasn’t a fan of interrogations. He got it, he understood, she’d been in a few herself over the years, the worst one involving Russians. They both had scars from that one. She’d never stayed in on his interrogations for that very reason. It made her uncomfortable knowing he was capable of that.

She liked the chase, liked the hunt, she didn’t like the kill.

He waited for the door to close behind her, to approach the four in front of him. He was grateful for two things, one… efficiency. Robin had conjured these four up within a week. And two, timesaving. She’d put them all together to save time. Amazing.

He motioned for the two extras to come forward and remove the blindfolds. He recognised all four of them.

A driver he fired two months ago for buying questionable things on his company provided credit card that was solely to be used for food and gas while working.

A secretary who still worked for him.

One of the security guards he’d hired on a temporary basis for a charity thing he’d thrown a month ago.

And a dealer from the nearby college. Not employed by him, but surely recognised him, would know who Steve was, would know of his many lucrative side businesses. Steve was instantly suspicious of two of them. The other two not so much.

All four appeared scared, there was no defiance, no faux confidence, or self-satisfaction in any of their expressions. Just fear. “You all recognise me, don’t you?” He didn’t need their answers, he knew they did. “You’re here… because you maybe broke a rule. I don’t want to hurt any of you, that’s not what I want to do. I would very much prefer it if these gloves stayed clean.” He lifted his hands, wiggling the clear gloves he wore on his hands. “Cleaners cost a fair bit, it’s always more for viscera removal.” A sob had him snap his gaze to the woman, stare thunderous, not an ounce of empathy in it. “Stop that. Tears won’t help you.”

She bit her bottom lip, nodded, and fell silent once more.

“The reason I’m beginning with a verbal interrogation, is because I have no real proof that any of you actually broke this rule. So let’s keep this violence free, shall we? I ask you a question, and you answer, I’ll decide if you’re telling the truth or not, sound fair?” Lie detectors didn’t do shit with his employees. They were all trained on them, even the damn secretaries could pass a lie detector test.

He didn’t employ useless people. He didn’t employ liabilities.

He continued when he was met by silence, not one of them wanting to argue less violence should suddenly appear on the menu. “Great! My partner, Eddie Munson… you’ve all met him.” He eyed the dealer, he had no idea that Eddie was taking something, it didn’t change how he saw the man, but… he wished he’d have known, he could have gotten Eddie better than whatever he was getting from elsewhere. “He… left. Me. Usually I’m aware this sort of thing wouldn’t really warrant a line up like this, definitely not an interrogation, but… his leaving doesn’t quite make sense.” He couldn’t make it make sense. Maybe he was just paranoid.

Steve began to pace in front of them, back and forth as he continued on “We were having such a nice night, everything seemed fine, and then… the morning after, out of nowhere, he ended things. Now, trust me, I know sometimes I can get a little in my own head, I can often think everything is fine but be missing glaringly obvious cues to things hurtling toward relationship disaster, but… there were no cues. Gone over it a bunch of times, not a single cue.” He stopped in front of the dealer.

The woman who’d tried tears to lessen whatever blow she was potentially about to receive from the big dangerous man.

“All of you, every single one of you, have spoken to him at least once in the past few months and you all know who I am. What I do. What we don’t know, is what you spoke about, so… one by one, why don’t you tell me?” Steve lowered down to a crouch in front of her, arms resting on his knees, she looked so well put together, but he knew she also worked as a TA at the college. “Stacey, right? Stacey Gingham, twelve Cornwallis, married to… Thomas Gingham, two children, Matthew, and Penelope?” He didn’t need to threaten them, just his knowledge of them was the threat, he watched the realisation of that fact dawn on her face in real time. “Hi… you’re the only one here who’s never worked for me, and so shouldn’t know about the rule. So tell me, how do you know Eddie?”

“I—I work for—”

“It doesn’t matter who you work for, Stacey, it doesn’t, your connections are useless here. I’m not scared of them. Just tell me how you know Eddie and we can get out of this unscathed, okay?” Violence wasn’t the goal here, he didn’t want to hurt them, but he would if necessary.

Innocent or not if they pushed their luck he’d respond as needed.

“He… he buys from me sometimes. His—His brother, Dustin Henderson? He goes to the college, real smart kid, highschooler but he won a place to attend the science classes for free twice a week. Eddie buys weed from me on the days he meets Dustin at the college, that’s all, he only ever buys weed. We talk about his brother, how he’s doing in the class, uh—if he needs any support, I don’t—I didn’t even know he was connected to you, Mr. Harrington, I swear.”

Eddie had a brother? Right… one of the many things he didn’t know about Eddie.

He nodded his head, silent in his processing. Then he stood up, and took one large step to the left of her, stopping at Charlie. His driver. He saw no lie in what she’d said, no break in eye contact, no pupil dilation, just standard stress indicators. She was scared, she wasn’t lying. “Charlie. You spoke to Eddie when you drove him around the city, didn’t you? Did you talk about me?”

“N-Not about you. He didn’t even ask about you Mr. Harrington an—an I know I fucked up with the card, I know I did that an I can’t take that back but—but I know the rule sir, I know it. Even if he’d have asked, sir I wouldn’t have—I wouldn’t have I swear!”

The secretary was next, he was cute, young, bit of a party guy, used to flirt with the sandwich girl at the office whenever she made her way up with Steve’s regular PB&J until she shut him down with a polite ‘you’re not my type’. She had a huge crush on Robin, it was adorable.

It was the same, Eddie had only spoken to him once, and it was about directions to the closest not Starbucks coffee place.

The security guard apologized for any confusion, and told him Eddie had only asked about his job, about other places he’d worked at cause he recognised him from a bar he’d bounced across town. Dead end, after dead end, after dead end.

Not a single viable suspect, not a single liar in the bunch.

He knew many in his position would push harder. Many would resort to violence in a bid to force out another answer, even if another answer didn’t exist. He knew many would kill, pushing it too far only to receive the same answer over and over again until the victim stopped talking. He knew what these people expected to happen to them.

Steve wasn’t that kind of person.

He walked out of that room after giving his two men the instruction to release them, turned to Robin who still stood outside the door, a knowing expression on her face, and simply asked “can you find him for me?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Part 10

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: She Calls Me Daddy Now {One Shot} ***

Title: She Calls Me Daddy Now {One Shot} ***

Lewis Hamilton x GF Reader

Warning: Language, 18+ Content, NSFW, Petty Behavior, Exhibitionism, Cursing, Slight Voyeurism, Back Door Play, Oral, Crude Language, 

Words: 5.4k

Summary: Your ex was the one to leave first. The breakup wasn’t mutual and for 4 months you were FWB until things fizzled. Flash forward 5 years later you’re in a happy relationship with Lewis when said ex comes strutting back thinking he still got you. After seeing you and him in the background of a friend’s live at a party he drops his plans and decides to tap into his reckless side and show ol’ dude who you belong to and remind you why he’s the only one for you.

Note: The self-declared queen of petty is back with more entertainment for the petty ones out there (me). Tell me Lewis wouldn’t be like this though.

 As always, thank you so much for reading, I appreciate it!

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!

 ***NOT Edited/Proofread***

~~~~~~~

“I think it’s best if we end things now before we end up hating each other.”

 You blankly stared at him expecting him to further elaborate. He didn’t though.

 “So—that’s it?”

 Malcom shrugged his shoulders then sighed. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. It wasn’t like this was a shock because you’d been distant with each other for the last month or so and hadn’t really spent too much time together, but this was the natural cycle of your relationship. You’d have months of hot and heavy behavior where neither of you wanted to be far from each other. Then you’d have months of distance where you still kept up appearances for a relationship but being up under each other was more a turn off. You’d thought this was another roundabout cycle of that. Malcom stood from the table.

“What if I disagree?”

Malcom paused, glanced at you for a few moments then slowly sat back down. “Come on Y/N. Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

 “Is there someone else?”

Malcom didn’t respond to that; he finished his drink then pulled out his phone to answer a call but hesitated.

“Is that her?”

“There’s no one else, Y/N. I just think maybe we need a break. I think we’ve hit a rut and need some time apart.”

This was unbelievable. He was the one to chase you. He was the one to put in the work to cuff you up and now he was the one who wanted to break up. Malcom stood again then rubbed the back of his hand against your cheek. “Stay beautiful.”

With that he walked out of the café leaving you at the table to wonder what the fuck had happened. You weren’t used to being the one broken up with. It felt odd being on this side of the table.

 “Well, ain’t that something.”

When you’d told your friends later that night, they were equally shocked, but their sentiments were the same, “fuck him.” They went into overdrive showcasing all the things you could do now that you didn’t have a boyfriend and though you knew you were lined up to enjoy life more you still had to be real with yourself, you weren’t happy about the end of your near two-year relationship.

You took the necessary time to nurse your bruised ego and hurt feelings and worked on yourself with a ton of self-care, therapy sessions, a whole body and mind reset and plenty of holistic care. After 4 months you’d dropped twenty pounds, eradicated the hurt feelings and patched up your ego. The night you and your friends went clubbing to help you get your groove back and a new body to fall under, there Malcom was.

What started at flirtatious looks across the club turned to him buying you drinks, dedicating songs from the DJ, a couple dances and then a trip back to your place for what you could only classify as a drunken mistake.

However, said drunken mistake continued to happen again and again and again. One night turned to two, then three and four, until before you’d realized it, you’d hooked up every other night for two weeks straight. So, the agreement was no strings. Whenever either of you felt an itch, you’d meet up and do filthy things to one another all in the name of pleasure and escapism. Was it fun? Absolutely. Was he good in bed? Definitely. Did you see it going much longer? No.

Sure enough, after 4 months things fizzled, and you were the one to leave this time. That brought much needed points to your ego, but it gave you peace of mind more. You were over it and ready to move on. It was true what people said, time heals all wounds, and everything runs its course.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

 -5 Years Later-

“Yeeeeeeeees!”

 You jumped up and down watching as Lewis’ car sped past nabbing the P2 placement.

 “Yeah baby!”

 You and your friends exchanged hugs, all of you ecstatic for his victory. You turned back and watched the jumbo screen and tried to hold back your tears. It had been a long season and he still had plenty of it to go. This season was a major struggle with results Lewis didn’t like. This was one of the first semi pleasing finishes. You knew though he’d taken 2nd he wouldn’t be one hundred percent happy about it because Lewis only accepted number one. He’d be the hardest on himself today.

Not wanting to wait anymore to congratulate him, you made your way to the team are where you planned on waiting for him. Seeing the celebration was well underway, you exchanged hugs with most of the crew on the team.

 “Maybe he’ll be easier to manage tonight,” Toto said.

You snorted because you both knew that wasn’t going to be the case. He knew he’d be just as hard on himself for a P2 placement as he would to not have placed at all. The look you exchanged said he was thinking the same thing you were. You both chuckled then.

 “He’s lucky to have you, Y/N. You get him in a way not many do.”

You smiled as pride emulated from you. It had taken work, work that you both had excruciatingly put in over the three-year duration of your relationship. He’d taken the time and care to learn you by understanding your quirks and ticks. He took the care to learn what triggered you and your preferred love language. Even though both of you had equally felt as if your relationship wouldn’t work because of how much work it was when you factored in both your schedules neither of you gave up.

 “When I said I was all in, I meant it, Y/N. I’m all fucking in.”

You smiled at the memory of his words the first time you’d made love for the first time. You’d taken a whole different route with him because you didn’t want to appear easy. You’d made him wait a whole 6 months before you let him take you to bed. In that time, you really got to know each other and build a level of trust between you that laid the foundation for where you were now.

You saw Lewis rolling up and seconds after the car stopped the crew stormed. Their cheers were deafening, and their antics only made you laugh. They clapped him on his back, shook him, and shouted numerous congratulations. When his eyes locked on yours, your belly flipped. The look in his eyes said it all. He smiled and nodded to those around him as he made his way to you. Those to the back of the huddle got his intention and paved a way for him to jog over to you. Lifting you into his arms, you wrapped your legs around his waist and hugged him tightly.

“Congratulations baby!”

He squeezed you so tightly you just wanted to melt into him and call his body your new home.

“Thank you, love.”

Your eyes met again just before you pressed your lips to his. What was to be a sweet, demur kiss quickly morphed into something more, something frenzied. His hands roamed up to your backside and the soft nudge you felt between your bodies said someone wanted attention and they wanted it now. Lewis groaned as he nibbled your bottom lip.

 “Woah, let’s save that part of the celebration for later,” Toto muttered into Lewis’ ear with his hand on his shoulder.

 Embarrassment filled you as you realized you had the attention of damn near everyone around. Some looked as if they knew just where this was about to go, others looked amused while a few were slightly jealous or an emotion similar to it. Lewis placed you back on your feet, but you kept your body pressed to his.

 “Gonna be able to get him under control?”

 Lewis grinned then kissed your jaw right by your ear.

 “That’s your job.”

 He then turned and walked away with his crew to get to the after-race procedure. Before he disappeared, he turned then winked at you and it was then you saw just how hard he was, and that race suit was not helping one bit. Did he care? Nope, the smug bastard looked proud.

Sure enough, three hours later his “hard, bulging print” was all over social media. Everywhere was referring to it that way and everyone was going wild for it. They thought it didn’t leave much to the imagination and fueled all the rumors that he was in fact blessed by every mythological god that was ever worshiped.

“Oh, this one is funny,” your best friend Sonja began holding her phone to her face, “I have no idea how his girlfriend takes that. From the looks of him, I’d say he’s at least an eight incher—at least.”

 You pinched your lips. They were not far from the truth at all.

“Wow, this one. Gah-damn! Sir Lewis only got knighted once but I think he qualifies for a second because that’s a whole nother grown ass man down there.”

That one had you busting out with a laugh. The three of you were cackling for quite a while until Deja read another.

“He’s a shower and a grower. RIP to his girl’s holes.”

You clapped your hand over your mouth as your eyes rounded as big as the moon in the sky. “Oh my god!”

“Girl don’t even act surprised. RIP to you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Obviously my holes are just fine.”

“So you say.”

You giggled because you knew you’d told them about the lengthy adjustment period when you guys first started having sex. There was definitely an adjustment period and plenty of weeks maybe months where you were left sore.

“That man knew what he was doing,” Deja said.

You agreed. There was no misinterpreting his intentions. Lewis was the kind of person who didn’t care about what people said about him. He didn’t care much about his image and really didn’t care who thirsted or who didn’t. He only cared that you never misunderstood things with him. You made your hard limits clear and he’d respected them ever since. You didn’t hate the thirst he received, didn’t hate the fangirls and guys who thought he was as hot as you thought he was. It was the same with him when it came to you.

“You better get the thirsties under control.”

“Naw, no need. They can thirst, shit me too!”

The party was getting louder now, and everyone was surely having a good time. You still hadn’t seen Lewis since leaving the paddock a few hours ago. You’d split up, him to fulfill after-race obligations mainly interviews and photos and you to get ready for the party. He had a whole week before his next race and after this win, you’d be damned if he didn’t actually celebrate it.

Pulling out your phone, you texted.

 MSG: Are you here baby?

You took the glass that Sonja was holding out to you and took a big sip. You phone vibrated but before you could look at it you felt an arm wrap around your waist. Smiling, you turned expecting to see Lewis but who you saw had you looking and feeling like you’d stuck your hand in fire.

“Hey beautiful,” Malcom said with a wide smile.

“Uh—Ma—Malcom?”

“The one and only. Funny seeing you here.”

Registering that his hand was around your waist, you pulled away taking a few steps away from him. The look on Malcom’s face shifted to confusion but quickly back to a cocky grin.

“Long time no see. What’s it been? A year or two?”

“More like three but who’s counting. You good?”

He nodded as he took a sip from his glass, “Yeah, yeah. Just—”. Malcom to a step to you closing the space you’d just opened. His head dipped to your ear. “I miss you.”

You leaned back and looked him over. His eyes were unreadable. Could he have been telling the truth? Maybe. Did you care? Not really.

 “Uh--.”

 “You don’t miss me? I was thinking about you the other night and how we used to get down and I almost called you. I wanted to.”

“Malcom--.”

His hand came around your waist again pulling you closer. You could tell he’d had a few.

“Maybe we could try again,” he added.

“Do we have a problem?”

You peeled his hand open and pried his arm off of you. As he reached for you again, another arm tightly wrapped around your waist pulling you backward. Your body knew who it was and the tension that was coursing through you dissipated, and a calm washed over you.

His voice was low, unwavering, and devoid of emotion, but his touch was possessive. His hand dipped lower resting just right atop your pubis. Malcom’s eyes widened then his brow crooked as his eyes fell to where Lewis’ hand rested. When he clenched his jaw, you knew he got the message.

“Problem?”

“Yeah. Looked like you were lost or something,” Lewis added.

Malcom and Lewis stared at each other. Whereas Malcom’s eyes radiated annoyance, Lewis looked calm and so goddamn smug that your belly flipped. It was so sexy how in control he always was.

“Not lost. Y/N and I go way back. I just wanted to get her to my room and catch up like old times.”

You cringed. He did not have to say all that. Anyone with a brain could decipher what that really meant. Lewis’ fingers tightened against your body, and you knew his annoyance was raising. He wasn’t a visibly jealous man ninety percent of the time. He kept his jealousy quiet, and under wraps and never let it out until you were alone. Right now, the tightness of how he held you was the only visible sign of it.

“Em, Malcom and I used to date—until we didn’t and moved on,” you clarified wrapping your arms behind you and holding Lewis as close as he was holding you.

Malcom’s jaw clenched again.

“Yeah, 2 years, then a couple months of—ya’ know,” Malcom said with a wink at Lewis.

“Oh. Got it. Oh wait, baby is this the one who couldn’t--.” Lewis asked drifting off to stick his tongue out and flick it.

You pinched your lips in an effort to keep the snort at bay. One thing with Lewis he’d always resort to pettiness to put someone in their place.

“Ah, I see. Well enjoy the party, Malcom.”

Lewis turned to you then dipped his lips to your ear. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He led you away keeping his hand around your waist. When you were a few feet away but still within eyesight of Malcom he turned you, pressed your back against the pillar then kissed you. Dipping his tongue into your mouth, you moaned and held him close. You knew what he was doing but didn’t care. You had your moments of recklessness too.

You danced, drank, laughed, and partied to your heart’s delight. With every drink you had, your freak meter went higher and higher. You couldn’t keep your hands off of Lewis and didn’t care who wanted to watch. With your back against his chest, you ground your hips circling yourself on his hardened dick. Lewis groaned.

“Be careful, princess.”

“Why? We both know you don’t care walking around with your dick print on display.”

He laughed then nuzzled his face into your neck. “I want you so bad," he mumbled into your ear before he bit down on your earlobe.

A few seconds later, he stood keeping your ass firmly pressed against his crotch. “I’ll text you.”

He slipped away disappearing in the crowd as you swayed feeling the slickness between your legs. Your horniess had reached critical levels.

  -Lewis-

You were so well suited for him that every time you were near, he automatically responded. It didn’t matter where you were or who you were with. One spark was all it took. He feared in the beginning that something that burned so hot, so furious and so wild would only end badly but three years in and there was no sign this trolley was going off the rails. He was sure, you were his forever.

The way you brought out his reckless side was dangerous and the way you knew it and capitalized on it was scandalous. Fucking with you he’d end up on the front of The Sun with his pants around his ankles and balls deep inside of you.

He chuckled to himself remembering the types of places you’d had to sneak off to in order to get a quick nut. The dressing room of The Graham Norton Show, behind a tent at Coachella, all over multiple paddocks, inside his racecar, underneath a jacked-up car while hiding from the crew, a dark corner of a club, a dark park, in the countryside after taking a break from riding horses, in the dessert after dirt biking. The places were endless.

As he looked around for the perfect spot to disappear with you, he tried to keep his desires in check. When he peeped into a private show room, he saw that same dude from before sitting there with his phone in hand.

“Op, my bad.”

Backing out he continued his search.

“I know who you are.”

“What?”

“I know who you are. Everyone knows who you are. Everyone also knows that you fuck out girls and toss em’ aside. You think that’s right for Y/N?”

His brow cocked and his head angled to the side. Taking a step to him he took a breath. “So you think you know me.”

“Look I don’t give a shit that you’re some hot shot driver and celebrity. I don’t give a fuck bout any of that. I only care about Y/N.”

“Now? She told me about the last relationship she was in. Told me how you broke up with her. Now you’re here what—playing the good guy? The guy who wants to save her from bad ol’ me?”

“We both know you’re not serious about her. Let her go.”

“Ah, I get it. You think if I’m out the picture she’ll come running back to you?”

“I know it. You’re just a rich and fancy distraction. You know she used to call me daddy.”

 He smirked. This guy’s audacity was ridiculous. Just then he felt the evil tinge on his pettiness, and he was powerless to resist it.

 “Cool.”

 It was all he needed to get out before he walked back down the hall he’d come from and back to you.

  ~~~~~~~

 -Y/N-

It had been almost fifteen minutes since he’d disappeared and the longer, he was gone the hornier you became.

MSG: Baby let’s go back to the hotel. I don’t wanna wait anymore.

You knew he’d be able to read the whine in your text.

A pair of lips latched onto your neck almost making you flinch.

“Mmm, let’s go.”

“I found the perfect spot. Come on princess.”

Lewis bit your neck as he tweaked your nipple. You cried out because that was all it took for some wetness to turn into a waterfall. Allowing him to lead you through the strip club themed party, you held on tightly to his hand. Up a flight of stairs and into a dark and neon lit hallway is where he led you. Before he continued, he pressed you against a wall so you could feel how hard he was.

“Do you want me as much as I want you?”

You nodded and made a move to kiss him, but he pulled away and yanked you after him. Walking into a room that slightly darker and lit with neon lights you barely registered anything before Lewis had you pressed against the wall with his tongue down your throat. You moaned and rubbed yourself against him using his clothes for friction against our hard and aching nipples.

“I love the way your lips taste baby.”

You wrapped your arms around him and grabbed onto his perfectly defined ass.

“What if someone--.”

Lewis pressed a button on the wall. “No one in, no one out.”

You smirked and went in to kiss him but again he backed away and went to the row of cushioned seats against the mirrored wall. His legs were wide open as he watched you.

“You want a show baby?”

He groaned, licked his lips, and patted his lap. You shook your head.

“You have to beg for it.”

Prancing over to him you swayed your body to the hypnotic music accentuating your curves with every move. Lewis’ eyes drank you in as you kept yours on him. Turning your back to him you swayed your ass, bent forward, touched your toes, and peeked at him through your open legs.

“Fuck, that ass.”

“Mmm, you wanna fuck this ass?”

“Do you want me to fuck your ass tonight, princess?”

His heavy hand landed atop your ass cheek making you moan.

“I want you, Lewis.”

“Only me?”

“Only fucking you.”

“Come and prove it.”

You approached him standing over one of his thighs then continued your dance. Lewis’ hand roamed up your leg and thigh to skim over your sex.

“You’re so wet baby.”

For a few moments his fingers played with you, circling your clit then rubbing back and forth until he pinched it between his fingers. You were moaning loudly now and too much in need. You sat on his lap then kissed him. Lewis cupped your breasts through the corset top you wore and sucked in a breath.

“Do you feel how hard I am babygirl?”

You nodded. without any more words you slipped off his lap onto your knees between his legs then undid his pants. Like a confined beast his dick sprang free nearly slapping you in the face.

“Fuck!”

“Mmm baby all this for me?”

“Do you want it all?”

“Every--. You tipped your tongue out and licked him from base to tip. “Single.” Then swirled your tongue around his swollen and leaking head. “Inch.” You then slipped his bulbous head into your mouth and sucked not going easy on the pressure.

“Awwwwww Fuck!”

Lewis’ head lulled back as you sank lower and lower until he was nestled snuggled in your throat.

“Mmmmm.”

“Aaaaaah yes, Y/N. How that dick taste?”

“Better than candy daddy.”

Peeping at him you saw his lips quick into a vicious smile. Before you could ask him what was going through his head, his hand locked your head right where it was as his hips lifted sending every inch he was blessed with down your throat. Relaxing, you focused on not gagging and moaned. Lewis sucked in a breath then panted.

“You suck this dick so well baby. Look at me.”

You did as he asked, locking eyes with him and saw his intent. Relaxing your jaw, you opened as wide as you could hooking your lips over your teeth so there would be no accidents and allowed him to fuck your mouth. With every plunge Lewis hissed and every withdraw he groaned. His thrusts started slow, then sped up until he was near brutally face fucking you. Taking everything he gave you added a few tongue swirls as you nudged forward to meet each of his thrusts. When he hit a high pitch, you knew you had him.

However, before you could go in for the one hit quitter, Lewis pulled himself from your mouth, pulled you up then tossed you onto the table that was in the middle of the room. In seconds he was on you kissing you like his life depended on it. Once you were breathless from his kiss, Lewis’ lips roamed your body bringing his focus to your breasts. His teeth made their mark as he bit them through the leather of your corset and though it wasn’t direct contact your body didn’t seem to care. The reaction was the same.

Your back arched and his lips dipped under your skirt. It didn’t take him long to slip your panties to the side and lazily lick from ass to clit.

 “Fuck!”

Clamping your thighs shut you locked him right where he was. That didn’t stop him though. Lewis easily pried them apart and pressed them back to the table as he attacked your clit with fast licks that nearly sent you shooting into the sky. You were so close.

“Fuck baby. I’m so close.”

Lewis moaned then slurped your flesh. Your thighs instinctively flexed in an attempt to shut but Lewis wasn’t having it. Showcasing his strength, he kept you right where he wanted and pushed you closer to the edge. When you felt him dip his tongue inside of you your belly flipped, muscled bunched and skin prickled with goosebumps as if the room was cold when it was in fact not. It was sweltering with the heat of your shared passion.

“This pussy tastes so good. Whose is it?”

“Yours!”

Again, his lips found your clit and he sucked. Just like that it was over. The pressure inside of you burst through making your thrash across the table. Grabbing his head, you kept his face still as you flicked your hips smearing your pussy across his mouth that greedily slurped, licked and flicked against you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Lewis!”

The table you were on rattled as if an earthquake was passing through when in fact it was just the aftereffects of your release.

“Mmm. My pussy tastes like heaven,” Lewis said as he stood then slapped his dick against your sensitive clit. A breathy gasp was all you could muster.

He pressed forward laying his mighty length over your pubis. It reached to your bellybutton. Lewis circled his hips rubbing his balls against your soaking sex.

“Stop teasing me.”

“Teasing? What do you want precious?”

“You.”

He slapped his dick against your clit again and your back arched.

“Mmm.”

“What-.” Thwack. “Do-.” Thwack. “You-.” Thwack. “Want-.” Thwack.

With every heavy slap of his dick against your clit the more stars you saw. Your body was feeling so greedy that your words failed you, so you rocked your hips against him hoping to coax him to give you what you both wanted.

“Fuck you’re killing me, but I know you’re worse off. Tell me.”

“I want you to fuck me now!”

“How do you want me to fuck you?”

“Hard!”

“Are you sure princess? You won’t be sitting right for a few days.”

“Fuck me until I can’t breathe, fuck me until I can’t think or speak. Fuck me, Lewis!”

 His lips smirked deviously again, and his eyes looked into the mirror behind you. Lewis dipped to your ear, bit it then whispered.

“We have an audience.”

Before his words could register, he rose then flicked his hips forward so forcefully your entire body jerked when he joined you with him.

“Aaaah!”

He didn’t wait. Pulling back, he did it again and again and again. Each time the loud squelch that echoed in the room should have been embarrassing but it wasn’t. You weren’t ashamed of how wet he got you. Lewis continued to thrust into you with brute force nudging that secret spot inside of you that tensed more and more with every touch.

“Fuck, this pussy always swallows me up. So—fucking—greedy!”

He emphasized each word with a back breaking thrust that sent your eyes to the back of your head.

“You’re gonna cum, aren’t you? I can feel it. Cum for me princess. Cum all over this dick!”

On command your body released and clenched around every inch he had buried inside of you.

“Aaaaaah!”

Lewis groaned but never relented. His thrusts sped for a few moments before he pulled out entirely and flipped you onto your stomach. With your ass in the air, Lewis rubbed his dick right where he’d asked if you wanted him to fuck. It was then you grasped his meaning telling you that you wouldn’t be sitting right for a few days. Instead of fear, excitement filled you. Lewis’ fingers dipped inside of you coming away with the evidence of your orgasm then rubbed it on you.

As he prepped you with one then two and finally three fingers you moaned and panted as you got wetter and wetter.

“I can’t wait anymore baby. Fuck me.”

“God, I love you princess.”

“I love you.”

He dipped to your ear again. “Do you know who’s watching?”

“I don’t give a fuck.”

Lewis chuckled then joined your bodies again, slowly, inch by inch until he was wedged so tightly inside of you, that you almost felt like you were going to break apart. His groan was strained, and his grip was tight on your hips.

“Fucking hell,” Lewis gritted out.

He pulled back then thrust forward and you whimpered. Hands down Lewis was the best you’d ever had. You’d found your sexual match in every way and every time you were together it felt like there was no one else in the world but the two of you.

“Ready baby?”

You nodded. He sped his hips and flicked steadily forward making your back arch from the angle. Your hand instantly flew to your clit and that was where it remained. When Lewis had a fast and steady speed his thrusts intensified.

“Oh my god! Oh fuck. Yes baby. Fuck me. Right there. Just like that!”

As his hips sped, so did your fingers and soon both of you were chasing your own releases. Lewis grabbed the back of your neck and lifted your head.

“Look!”

Before you, the glass had become see through and on the other side was Malcom watching every single thing that was happening. The rage and fury in his eyes shone brightly like hot coals. He clenched his jaw so tightly you were sure it would shatter but upon every thrust your vision blurred and all you could focus on was Lewis delivering yet another pounding for the record books of your relationship.

“Fuck yes!”

“What do you want him to know princess?”

“Mmm. I love your fucking dick. You feel so fucking good I wanna scream!”

Lewis jackhammered you and took over the work your fingers were doing.

“Aaah!”

“What—else!”

“It’s yours,” you whispered.

Again, Lewis grabbed the back of your neck lifting your head so you looked at Marcus.

“He can’t hear you. Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours!”

“Whose?”

“Yours daddy! it’s fucking yours. You fuck this pussy so right. Just you!”

“Look at him as you fucking cum for me and only me. Look at him so he can memorize your face, look at him so he knows his fucking place and knows why you’ll never leave me, why I’ll never leave you. It’s you and me till the goddamn end!”

You whined as your body began to shake. Through tear-streaked eyes you looked at Marcus.

“I’m gonna cum!”

“You’re gonna cum who?”

“Dadddddy!”

You screamed and it turned into screech as you lost all control over your body. Lewis continued pounding into you for a few more moments before he also came filling you up like a twinkie.

“Yes, Y/N! Mmm.”

You were delirious and seeing so many stars you were sure you were floating through space right now. Through your delirium you heard Lewis speak.

“She calls me daddy now!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[annalu86]

A second go at a first date.

Tim is not against public displays of affection. Within reason.

He actively likes holding hands with women he is in a relationship with.

He’s been known to put his hand on a lower back, or an arm round a shoulder

And maybe even a quick hug.

He likes to think it was because he was a gentleman, he would tell his partners their relationship was no one else’s business but he was beginning to believe that maybe he’d never been in a relationship where he just couldn’t keep his hands off the other person before…

He has the feeling Lucy is really going to answer this question for him.

Of course in this moment he’s not thinking any of this, he’s not thinking at all. Sitting as close to Lucy as possible in these uncomfortable metal chairs, food forgotten in front of them.

One hand on her knee, the other in her hair. The kiss had built and built, the idea that the other food truck patrons or passers by might see them had not crossed his mind.

The minute she had told him, in that fancy restaurant during their disastrous first ‘first date’, that she wanted them to have their first “real” kiss he had thought about how much he wanted to finally be the one to take control.

The first peck, back in her apartment all those months ago, an embarrassment he needed to make up for. Lucy had followed that very first kiss up with 2 of the most heart racing, knee buckling kisses Tim had ever experienced. He had something to prove.

Not that he was competitive or anything but, he had to at least level the playing field.

It was Lucy who pulled back first, out of breath, flushed cheeks and red lips. She placed her hands on his chest as he reflexively leaned forward to chase another kiss.

“Let me breathe” she giggled slightly and he worked to contain the slightly smug grin that threatened to take over his face

“Sure thing” he leaned back in his chair not taking his eyes off her. He picked at his food as she took a deep drink from her can.

For several minutes they both sat in silence, gazes soft, gentle smiles.

Lucy starts to lean forward in her seat and Tim forces himself to remain still, to focus on the way her hair falls forward over her shoulders. How her smile quirks up on one side as she watches his reaction intently. Her hand reaches up and round to the back of his neck and his eyes close, briefly, at the light touch she leaves on his skin.

Goose bumps erupt on his skin as she trails her finger tips down his neck and along his collar bone. She pauses, momentarily.

“Lucy” it comes out as a whisper when her finger tighten around the collar of his shirt and she draws him firmly to her.

Tim is the first to pull away this time, he feels like he’s losing a battle of wills. Against his own hands. Touching Lucy is a heady mixture of electrifying and familiar. New, but also as it had always been. He knows how her soft face will fit in his hand because he knows every inch of her face as well as he knows his own.

But her words ring in his ears. They shouldn’t rush just because they know each other so well.

So with super human strength he sits back and tries to string together a sentence.

“Angela is going to be insufferable” he rolled his eyes but his smile remained.

“You’re going to tell her?” Lucy didn’t sound nervous but he wanted to reassure her that he wasn’t going to be telling anyone until she was ready.

“Honestly I don’t think I’m going to have to. Detective Lopez will work it out in minutes” then in a moment of bravery “she’s been on at me about us” he says gesturing between them “for some time”

Lucy’s mouth hangs open

“Us?” She stutters “for sometime?!” Her mouth opens and closes like a fish and Tim can’t help but grin “Tim!” She swats at his shoulder. “Explain!”

“She may have worked out that I had feelings for you, maybe even before I was sure” Tim could feel the heat in his cheeks and new a blush was creeping over his face. “She asked some questions, made me ask a few more of myself”

“When?” Was all she asked her eyes locked on his.

“After we kissed, the first time in your apartment” Lucy’s eyes shot wide open “I… I was… confused” he stuttered “I wasn’t expecting to feel what I felt. Does that make sense?”

“Absolutely” she nodded “I feel like things had been a little…” she paused “fuzzy? Before. But after?” She swallowed hard “I thought about that kiss more than I probably should have.” Her gaze dropped to her lap “dreamt about it more than I should have”

Tim felt his heart hammer in his chest at her confession. No words formed, he just stared at her as she fiddled nervously with the hem of her shirt.

Slowly, he reached his hand out. Sliding his fingers along her jaw until her face was resting in his large hand, he lifted her face towards his and placed a single gentle kiss to her lips. As quick as the first, in her apartment but with all the feelings, all the meaning neither of them had been free to express at the time.

“Ok.” Tim said sitting back again “so how many grandchildren are you thinking exactly”

Lucy’s hearty laugh echoed out into the night “Tim!” He was beginning to think her love language was whacking him on the shoulder

“Well I’m just saying, we might not want to take it too slow or…” and just like that they were back to their gentle teasing.

They finally finished their food and arranged that their next date would see Tim cooking for her at his place and after 3 failed attempts at saying goodnight at their cars, that just saw them out of breath and Lucy with wild hair, Tim was finally in his truck on his way home.

He would see her again in the morning and he new just the thought would send him off to a blissful sleep and just maybe he’d have a few dreams of his own.

[thenewsuburbia]

What had originally been pitched to me as a spontaneous catch up and a few drinks was starting to feel a little more… deliberate. The girls pulled me along the sidewalk, illuminated by the streetlamps. It was very late and the normally boisterous neighborhood was quiet except for the giggles of my girlfriend and her bestie.

—------

(2 weeks earlier)

“Come on, Gabriella is only in town for one night! It’ll be fun!” Mikayla had said, twirling her blonde hair playfully between her fingers.

I had my reservations, sure. Mikayla and I had been dating for the last 4 years, ever since college, and we had been living together for the past 6 months. Gabriella had been her college roommate, and they were inseparable, like sisters. Total “besties” still even though they now lived a few states apart. I had always thought Gabriella was fun, but her interest in me had always made me a little…uncomfortable. Before I started dating Mikayla, Gabriella (or Gabby as we called her in college) had come on to me pretty strong a couple drunken nights at parties. I thought she was cute, but we never did anything, because while slender little brunette Gabriella was always sweet, everybody knew I was not-so-secretly-obsessed with her big titted blonde roommate….Mikayla.

Hence, my hesitation. Since college all that had changed. Gabby had started on 'The Product' very early on. She’d been very vocal about it on her social media. At first it looked like she was involved in some weird MLM campaign or pyramid scheme. All her posts were about psuedo-science-y health supplements that “helped women ascend” or “become the most feminine version of themselves.” Whatever the fuck that meant? But then, I couldn't help but notice something.

Were her breasts getting slightly bigger in each post? It was almost imperceptible at first, but I saw it. Only a breast-obsessed weirdo like myself would notice something like that I thought. Maybe she was just a late bloomer? Maybe it was a push up bra or a new insta filter? A trick of the light? But as the weeks and months went on it became clear. There was no denying it. Cute little Gabby was becoming an absolute bombshell!

Gabby had asked everyone to start calling her Gabriela around the time I moved in with Mikayla. By that time her tits were looking almost as big as my girlfriend’s. That was also around the time that she started dating Chase, some ex-jock looking guy. Her posts about 'The Product' started to become less frequent. She'd gone relatively quiet on instagram. Not that it really mattered at that point as about 20% of my feed was now filled with women raving about 'The Product' and all its fantastic 'virtues'. Though none of them seemed to have grown as much as Gabriela. Not yet anyway.

Gabriella’s growth was most evident in her chest. But it was increasingly obvious that she was getting bigger and thicker all over. Was she getting taller too? I wondered with an equal mix of excitement and guilt. But her growth seemed to have plateaued recently, which made me breathe a sigh of relief. My obsession with her had been growing along with her bust. I was already ashamed of my inflation with her growing chest, and I was nervous of how far it would go.

I had always been a breast-man. Even in college the girls often teased me about it, but my fixation with Gabby’s chest was on a whole other level. I felt enslaved by it. While Mikayla was asleep,I found myself screen-shotting Gabriella's most breast-centric posts

and fapping to them later. I regularly checked her insta story as soon as I woke up for updates. And, while Mikayla and I were perfectly happy, and in a very good place, I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty about my growing desire to get up close and personal with her best friend’s tits. I couldn’t help but imagine what Mikayla would say if she knew how her friends growing bustline had affected me.

So, understandably, 2 weeks later, a couple days before Gabriella’s arrival, I was feeling a little uneasy, and even though I gave some noncommittal “mmmhmmms” and “we’ll sees” for most of the week, Mikayla had been surprisingly insistent that I attend their little reunion. I encouraged them instead to have a girls’ night, but she effortlessly brushed off these suggestions with a laugh and a wave. By Saturday I still hadn’t found a solid out from their night out on the town, and as loath as I was to admit it, part of me was very much excited to see Gabriella’s new lushness in person.

In hindsight, the first red flag was when Mikayla was getting ready.

“Wow… you… you look great.” I half mumbled, my mouth slightly agape. She was wearing a low cut black top, showing far more cleavage then I was accustomed to seeing. If I haven’t mentioned it before, my girlfriend had an incredible rack. Big perky tits that looked even bigger on her tight athletic frame. She had been absolutely stacked in college, which was one of the reasons so many guys (myself included) had been infatuated with her back then. Today though , her bra made her girls look enormous. They strained against the confines of her overmatched bra and top leaving almost nothing to the imagination. She almost never wore anything this revealing. I couldn't help but wonder: Was she feeling slightly competitive? Jealous? Of her old friend's burgeoning bust?

She took my open-mouthed stare as a sign of gratitude.“Awwww thanks babe” She purred, “Tonight is going to be soooo much fun! Now hurry up and get ready, our dinner reservation is at 7. Gabriella is meeting us there and I don’t want to keep her waiting.”

And so we arrived at one of our city’s better Italian restaurants, 15 minutes early, and ordered drinks while we waited for Gabriella to arrive. My back was to the door, and I tried my best to stifle my excitement as I fought the urge to glance furtively backwards.

“Are you excited to see Gabriella? She’s gotten so huge we might not even recognize her” Mikayla asked as she stared into my eyes, looking to gauge my reaction.

*Gulp* While Gabriela’s growing bust wasn’t exactly a secret, it certainly wasn’t something I was stoked to discuss with my girlfriend, especially given the boob-jealousy I had picked up on earlier. I tried to steer the conversation back towards less-charged waters.

“Yeah, it’ll be good to catch up. I’m excited to hear about her new job, and oh what about her boyfriend?” I said, hoping to distract her with some gossip and set us on course for an incredibly boring PG script for this evening.

“Yeah, I hear her new job is big money. She replaced some senior level guy at the company, and she's still so young, and Chase sounds like a total sweetheart. She told me he’s like a cute lil puppy dog around her.”

That characterization struck me as odd. It certainly didn’t align with my preconceived notions of the aggro / alpha looking jock I'd seen in her photos. I racked my brain trying to remember his social media… hadn’t he been on his college football team? Nothing about the dude in the letterman jacket with his arms around two girls at a party screamed “puppy dog” to me, but maybe I was unfairly labeling a dude I had never even met.

Before I could think about it too much, my thoughts were interrupted by a shriek of joy from across the table.

“Ahhhhh GABBY!”

“MIKAYALA!”

Mikayla practically jumped out of her chair as she ran towards the door to hug her friend. I turned around just as they were breaking their embrace and my jaw must’ve hit the floor.

Lil Gabby wasn’t so 'little' any more. In fact, lil Gabby was gone, and in her place stood Gabriella. What a woman! Gabriella was MASSIVE. Oh. My. God. Her tits were twice as big as I’d seen in her posts! They were displayed proudly nestled in a lacy magenta top, which was low cut to the point of obscenity. So much creamy, mouth-watering cleavage! Holy shit, my girlfriend’s sizable rack looked rather bland by comparison.

Was she wearing heels too? I didn’t remember her being so tall? I was literally speechless as the two of them bounded over to our table, chattering away with girlish glee.

I maybe mumbled some 'hellos' as the girls took their seats at the table. I was trying my best not to stare but finding it exceedingly difficult. Gabby was not only huge, but she seemed overall much … I don't know… softer. Her ballooning curves strained against every seam of her outfit, putting her body on full display as she moved. She had this aura of…matronly confidence…about her. She was glowing and giggling and as she glowed and giggled, her luscious, all-consuming, breasts glowed and giggled with her. I was transfixed, and I found myself hanging on to her every word as she went through the motions of catching us up with her life.

A bottle of wine was ordered with appetizers. I found myself drinking wine a little quicker than the girls mostly to calm my nerves. I was fidgety, and I honestly didn't know what to do with myself. I found myself drinking wine a little quicker than the girls. The girls were talking very quickly about all manners of things, and I did my best to keep up, however, after our entrees and my third glass of wine, (when had we ordered a second bottle?) I found myself falling under the spell of Gabriela’s movements. Her every sway and jiggle captivated me, and as I poured myself yet another glass of wine, I noticed a smirk creep over Mikayla’s face. Did she just catch me staring? I might have been imagining things, but I could have sworn I just saw Mikayla and Gabriela share a satisfied glance.

“What?” I asked dumbly.

*Giggles*

“Oh nothing. We’re just glad you’re here, and having a good time. Should we order some cocktails with our desserts?” Mikayla asked sweetly.

“Oh, I don’t know. This has been quite the lovely meal, but honestly, I’m feeling a little tired and I'm about ready to go ho—“

“Bullshit” Gabriela cut me off with a smile. “How many times in college did the 3 of us stay up till sunrise? Now that you’re all grown up you’re ready for bed at 9pm on a Saturday?”

“I… I don’t know. You two should just go ahead and have fun tonight. I think I’ll just catch an uber after the check.”

The girls looked at each other and turned back to me with mock pouts. Their eyes glowed mischievously as they leaned in towards me, the closeness amplifying their dramatic curves.

My god, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t steal a glance at both their chests. I wasn’t used to seeing this much cleavage from my girlfriend and Gabriella’s tits were pushed together so dramatically with her sultry pouty pose… she looked like she was about to explode out of her top!

“Awww come on, baby”

“It’ll be so much fun!”

They took it in turns slowly breaking me down, first one and then the other as they both stared at me with pouty little faces.

“We have so much to talk about.”

“ … just like the old days!”

“Pleeeassse”

“Yeah, preeety puuuh-leeez”

It was a trick they both used to pull on me back in college when they wanted me to do something…and it still worked.

What could I say? With one more quick glance at their cleavage I gave in with a sigh.

“Ok… fine.”

“Yaaay!” They were giggling and smiling, clapping their hands in joy as they jumped up and down… and their tits jumped right along with them. I felt a sinking feeling in my chest as my eyes couldn't help but follow the bouncing boobs. What had I just gotten myself into?

“Ok, so here's what I’m thinking: We order some cocktails and have ourselves some desserts. Then we go out for a bit of drinking and dancing. Oh, and don’t worry about the check. My new 'big girl' job came with a huge signing bonus, so this is all on me!” Gabriella smiled proudly.

I was secretly thankful she offered to pick up the check. Although we were doing alright, financially, Gabriella had ordered 2 appetizers, a giant entree, and three desserts (“all to share of course”). Boy could she eat! Apparently her new body required plenty of fuel to keep her going, and to keep her growing.

“Yay, tell us about your new job!” Mikayla chimed in.

“Ok, well, first off its huge money, but more importantly, its like, a super important position within the company. This guy, Mr. Reeves, well he used to oversee this entire department with like 50 employees, and I was hired to be his assistant. You know, sending emails, keeping track of his appointments, and things like that.” She said, talking fast in between bites of tiramisu.

“Anyways, he started getting…ummm… let's say a bit distracted. He was letting things slip and spending a lot of time in his office with the door locked. So, I started taking on more and more of his responsibilities. It was really unfair because I was basically doing his job, but still getting paid as an assistant while he sat inside his big corner office.”

“I was going to quit, but then this new lady became CEO. She was older than me, Mrs. Banks was her name, but I actually knew her from some Product meetups. We weren't like, friends, or anything… but I had seen her before and we chatted once. Anyway, Mrs. Banks is so pretty and easy to talk to…even though shes a total boss bitch, and she brought this whole new energy to the company! One day she called me into her office and asked me to help with a performance review for Mr. Reeves. She was so nice and I told her everything as honestly as I could, and the next week she told me I’d been promoted! To his job! And he was being asked to stay on as MY assistant to ‘help with the transition'!”

Mikayla giggled so much she snorted. “Oh my god! And he stayed? That's so embarrassing for him! Is he still … distracted? Like, why would you even want an assistant who was so absentminded?"

“Oh, he’s much more efficient now. I think assistant life suits Mr. Reeves…. or Tom as we call him now. He is so eager to complete the assignments I give him and he always gets my coffee order just right. Mrs Banks told me the secret to her success is knowing how to motivate her underlings.” She paused for a sip of wine and a dramatic smirk. She spoke in a syrupy sweet baby doll voice “And lets just say I know exactly how to motivate my lil Tommy.” She chortled, sending her tits wobbling. And glanced up into my gaze.

I had been semi-aroused for all of dinner, but this last story had an unexpected effect on my hardening member. My cock had fully sprung, throbbing against my khakis as she stared into my eyes. What the hell was she doing to me?!

With desserts finished, the work talked continued up until our bill arrived. Gabriela snatched it quickly and pulled a heavy looking black American Express out of her clutch.

“So…” She smiled back at us, absentmindedly adjusting her top. “Where's the best place to go dancing around here?”

———————

We had agreed to go to Cache Cache, a kind of salsa bar with live music and DJs. The place was packed, but after a little scouting we found a booth (both the girls sat across from me) and we ordered some margaritas. Boy, I needed to be careful. It had been a while since I had drank this much. I was once again struggling to hold up my end of the conversation. I was never a sloppy drunk, but after a few too many I tended to get a little slow and glassy eyed. The girls, meanwhile, were showing almost no effects from the alcohol. Had they been drinking as much as I had? They were absolutely glowing, both of them, chatting animatedly and giggling. As I became less and less of a factor in their conversation, I began to fixate on the girls’ body language. The lean-ins, the arm crosses, the way they were posing. It all seemed rather deliberate.

Was Gabriella trying to show me what I missed turning down her advances all those years ago? Her posture and glances and smirks seemed to scream:

“You didn’t want me because I wasn’t busty enough for you. Well, look at me now. Am I big enough yet? Take it all in. Stare at my huge, fat titties. Look how much bigger I am than your girlfriend.”

My girlfriend, meanwhile, seemed just as eager to keep her chest front and center. Like, right now she was pulling her shoulders back and fiddling with her top. Maybe it was my imagination, but it seemed like she was feeling a little competitive. She, of course, knew all about my breast-fixation, and having this busty goddess here (especially a busty goddess who, she knew, had once tried to hook up with me) had her vying for my attention, it seemed.

But, while the ladies’ body language was screaming pay-attention-to-me-cat-fight, their tone and conversation could not have been any more different. They couldn't stop laughing or cracking jokes. They shared stories and gassed each other up. They seemed like the very best of friends having the time of their lives.

I tried to ponder this dissonance , but only managed to land on “maybe women are just weird and you don’t understand them at all.” While something was certainly up, I found myself too distracted by their large womanly chests to care. I was content to sit back and watch the show.

“So, why isn’t Chase here? We wanted to meet him.” Mikayla questioned, pulling me from my revelry. I knew nothing about the guy, but I was very interested in what kind of guy could land this bombshell sitting in front of me.

“Oh, he’s at home. He’s so sweet, you’re going to love him! He treats me, like, so so well and he's so handsome.” Gabriella couldn’t hide the pride in her voice. “It’s like… he does everything I ask him. He takes me on expensive trips, and gives me back massages, and buys me presents. Sometimes it feels like he worships the ground I walk on!” She laughed, an arrogant smirk creeping across her face.

“Sounds like Mr. Reeves… sorry I mean… lil Tommy might have some competition for your assistant soon!” Mikayla chortled, laughing so hard a tear rolled down her cheek.

“Well, Chase definitely knows his place. He LOVES serving me. He has been so supportive of me being on The Product! A lot of guys would let their fragile male ego get in the way, but he loves seeing me get bigger and bigger… becoming more woman for him. More woman than he can handle. It seems like the bigger I get..” She cupped her breasts and gave them a demonstrative shake “the more he’ll do anything to keep me happy.” She was practically purring.

“OMG!” Mikayla was laughing so hard her eyes were watering “He must REALLY want to see you happy now. Girl, your tits are absolutely massive!”

“Ummm yeah, ya think?! At first I thought they were TOO big, but between work and Chase and everything….. I don’t know… everything has just been going so well since I got on The Product. Guys seem to love it. ‘Bigger is better,’ right?” She turned to me with a knowing smile. “What do you think? Do you like them or do you think they’re too big?”

My face flushed scarlet. I glanced back and forth between the two girls. How the hell was I supposed to answer that?! Mikayla was staring at me inquisitively, waiting for an answer. Gabriella smirked with her chest displayed proudly. Given the semi-competitive nature I had picked up on, how could I answer? Should I be honest? Should I lie? How could I make sure Mikayla didn’t feel insecure, but also not insult her best friend's body?! Both their stares intensified and I knew I had to say something.

“I…uhhhh, well, I think its, ummm, important to, you know, like… feel good about your own body.” I finished lamely, desperately trying to look anywhere but at the girls.

Both girls broke into hysterical laughter. Mikayla was full blown crying and Gabriela had to put her fist to her mouth to try to gain control. This was not the reaction I had been expecting to my lame platitude about body positivity.

“OMG, see Mikayla, he can barely talk! Boys just get so cute and flustered when you talk about your titties getting bigger!”

“Well, he always gets cute and agreeable when I wear something that shows off 'the girls'” She gestured towards her chest. “But when you walk in here with those bazookas, the man can’t even speak!”

*More giggles*

“And you know, I LOVE it when boys want to keep me happy. I LOVE it when the cats got their tongue. At work, at home. Everywhere.” She was leering at me like I was her prey. “So I’m just going to keep getting bigger and bigger!”

“GIRL!” She snorted again “HOW MUCH BIGGER CAN YOU GET?! You used to be so much smaller than me, I couldn’t even fit into your sports bras. And now you're making my girls look puny!” She cupped her breasts and pushed them up, turning to Gabriela as if for comparison.

“Oh, your girls are doing just fine, hun. But if you wanted to get a little bigger you could always try The Product.” She leaned towards Mikayla, mirroring her cupping. Both their breasts were fully on display, side by side. Her tone, which had been so playful all night went down to a lower, more serious octave. “But if you want to get really big, like… huge…you have to try The Program.”

Had I heard of this Program before? I racked my memory, it was something from The Product people, I think, but I couldn’t remember any details.

“Whats the Program?” I asked, trying to sound academic about the question.

This brought another fit of giggles and a playful eye-roll from Mikayla. “Oh my god, you sit there mute and practically drooling for the last half an hour and OF COURSE your first contribution to the conversation is to ask about The Program that would make my tits huge!”

“No no, it makes sense. Its normal for guys to be curious about this kind of thing.” She tucked some hair behind her ear and turned to face me in full now. “The Program is from the company who make The Product. Its new, I only started on it a few months ago when I met Chase. The program is for partners, you see.”

I thought back to her insta. How she had seemed to stop growing about 6 months ago, only to see her bigger than ever here today. Was this all from The Program?

“The Product is just supplements.” Gabriela continued, answering the questions implied by my furled brow. “Vitamins and hormones and estrogen and other proprietary stuff that make a woman experience a kind of second puberty. any girl can get them. In fact, the company is planning on it. The Program, however, is a full routine for women and their partners, and it's much more exclusive at the moment. There's still supplements, of course. Different supplements though, some for me and some for him. But it also comes with therapy and couples treatment sessions. Sometimes we do sessions together, sometimes separately. I always come out of my sessions feeling so confident and fresh. I don’t know what his sessions are about, but when he gets home he is just the perfect little boyfriend…so eager to please. I can tell he wants my breasts, he’s so on edge and tense. It's like he wants to beg me for them, but doesn’t know how. So he begs quietly, with his eyes and actions. Oh I just love it when he whimpers! This program has just made us so much closer and we're both so happy! He is the perfect little boyfriend for me and when I finally let him see the girls… it's like pure joy for him. He's gotten to the point where he can barely contain himself!...for now” *Giggle*

I realized I’d been silent during her whole speech. While Gabriela and I had locked eyes for her description of The Program, Mikayla’s eyes had been staring at me, reading my reaction. Was this competitiveness, or something else?

Gabriela continued, unfazed by my growing discomfort and poorly hidden arousal. “The Program is about balance. It's about rebalancing outdated gender roles. Mankind has been in charge for about…2000 years now, I think it's time for women to take the reigns.For womankind to ascend, mankind needs to wane, and as I strive to become so much more, Chase strives to become so much less. Some guys, the dumb alpha guys, might think that's weakness, but women like me know that it takes incredible strength to give everything to us. To give up all that Power, to give up all that Control that men have had for so long. He wants to help us- he wants to help me- become the best version of myself, and that strength… the strength to concede'' Her voice took on an aroused husky lilt “makes women like me very, VERY, Happy.”

"And when I'm happy, he's happy, you see? I take care of him and all his 'little' problems. All his little male urges…as I’ve gotten bigger his appetite for me has become so much more overwhelming for him. He's so hungry. Every deep breath, every low cut blouse, every new bra… it practically melts his little brain. He’s gotten so…so fixated… on my body…on my breasts. And I can give him exactly what he wants, his every urge and whim is completely satisfied. And in exchange…he does everything I say. Everything is so easy for him now. Everything is less complicated now that his only focus is my happiness and the pleasure I can give him. Now doesn't that sound like a good deal? Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone take care of you and all your silly little needs?”

She grabbed another margarita, seemingly out of thin air, and handed it to me. Wait, had they not ordered one too?

“But come on” Gabriela’s voice took on her playful tone again, turning back to her friend “Did we come here to talk about my relationship or did we come here to dance?!”

———

The dance floor was a blur. The margaritas seemed to be really catching up to me. My head was swimming, and I found myself floating from one moment to the next with no real memory of how I got there.

The girls pulled me along and made sure I got to where I needed to go. All 3 of us were dancing together, nothing sensual, just kind of boppin’ around and vibing on the dancefloor. The DJ was really good, mixing some house tunes with latin sounds. The tempo varied, sometimes slow and passionate, other times more upbeat.

It was crowded, hot and sweaty, but not necessarily in a bad way. The atmosphere felt charged and electric. The two girls were radiant, moving rhythmically, drawing the glances of men and women alike, but often for different reasons. Women gave them jealous looks while men lusted after them, but they didn't seem to care. They loved being the center of attention. It's where they belonged.

Soon, the beat picked up and Mikayla pulled me close. With no hesitation, she laid a searing kiss on me. It wasn’t the kind of kiss I was expecting, it wasn’t a sultry-sexy-dancefloor-kiss, it was romantic… dare I say… sweet. It was more than a peck, for sure, but it was tender. Her lips moved playfully over mine, and when she broke the kiss, she smiled at me. It was a cute and compassionate smile, again not what I was expecting. It caught me off guard. She put her arms around my neck, and pulled me close.

“I really love you and appreciate you.” She whispered into my ear, her tits pushing into my chest below. “You deserve a little reward, I want you to feel really good tonight.” Her hand reached down between us and gave my bulge a playful squeeze. “You’re already hard, huh? Hope that's for me and not for Gabby’s huge tits.” Before I could respond, her tongue invaded my ear, and slowly moved its way down to my neck.

I was momentarily speechless, this was so unlike her! Wasn't she supposed to be mad at me? Hadn't she caught me staring at Gabriela’s new vastly superior curves? As she pulled away I saw she was still smiling sweetly, with no trace of malice in her eyes. Now I was really confused. Seeing my perplexed expression, she smiled playfully before turning around and starting to grind against me. I had always been a tit guy, but there was no denying Mikayla’s amazing rear. Her athletic yet supple backside (the product of 3 yoga classes per week) pushed back against my hardness, moving in sync with the music. I began to reciprocate, slowly grinding back into her as my arms wrapped around her and pulled her in closer. She moaned in unfeigned pleasure allowing me the opportunity to look over her shoulder and down into her deep inviting cleavage. Her breasts glistened and bounced in the hot and crowded nightclub, which only served to heighten my libido more. Unconsciously I redoubled my hip motion against her.

“ Ahhh! Oh baby, did looking down my top get you excited?” She purred breathlessly “Does it get you hot looking at my big titties? Good. I wore something really low cut to get you all hot tonight.”

We continued like this, dancing wrapped together like two serpents for several songs. I was absolutely throbbing, I had no idea what had gotten into her. Maybe the drinks were finally starting to catch up with her too. No matter the reason, I was enjoying myself too much to worry.

“Mind if I join you two love birds?” Gabriella had come up in front Mikayla. “The guy over there in the basketball jersey keeps creepin’ on me.” Mikayla just laughed and pulled her friend into our space.

If I thought they were jockeying for my attention before, the two of them were bringing it to a whole new level now. The two of them seemed to be putting on some kind of show, both of them determined to inflame my desire further. But whether their motivation was competition, or something else, I had no idea.

My girlfriend's hips pushed back into mine, the softness of her rear pressed against my hardness, while her best friend's tits swayed rhythmically in front of me. Gabriella came in closer still, her chest pushed against Mikayla’s. I couldn’t help but stare at their racks pressed together as Mikayla’s ass became more insistent against my length. The brunette’s dark eyes locked on to mine as she adjusted her top, pulling it down a bit to show more creamy cleavage. My eyes responded immediately, darting down to her undulating breasts. My girlfriend slowly turned around, still keeping our hips pressed together. Her hand reached down to my shaft as her lips and tongue played roughly on my neck.

Between the drinks, the dark dancefloor, and Mikayla’s newfound aggression I was in a bit of a haze, I maybe rutted into her hand, a bit eager to get relief. Her lips moved up to my ear.

“Gabby has gotten so big, hasn’t she?” She whispered huskily. I looked up, Gabby was facing me, eyes locked directly on mine with a sultry expression on her face. The way she moved was so sensual and hypnotic. “Just look at her” my girlfriend continued “Look at how her body moves.” I was looking, no doubt, at how one part of her body was moving. Her breasts were swaying lasciviously, bouncing and jiggling with the beat. Every movement seemed designed to draw my gaze, the way she leaned and crossed her arms and arched her neck and shoulders… all of it seemed so coordinated. All the while, my girlfriend's hand was still on my girth… not stroking, but just sort of fondling. My mind raced as my breath quickened.

Mikayla’s hands, Gabriela’s breasts, Getting Bigger, Gabriella Ascending, Growing Tits, Those Jiggles, Mikayla’s hand squeezing a little more insistently.

I groaned, fearing I was too far gone to stop myself from orgasming right here on the dancefloor, but as if sensing my upcoming eruption, Mikayla let go and stepped away.

She smiled at me playfully as I let out an embarrassing pitiful whimper, my balls clenching to prevent what would have been a shameful blunder.

As if unaware of my plight, the girls carried on dancing. They moved towards each other, giggling.

“God” Mikayla huffed, “you are so big!” Her hands reached up and cupped her brunette friend's chest. Both girls smiled hungrily at each other. Then, out of nowhere, she leaned forward and kissed her bestie.

The girls had made out twice in college, that I knew of: once on a dare at that random frat party when they were freshmen, and then again at a drunken after-hours a couple of years later. The second one was unprompted, but they both denied remembering it when I brought it up the next morning. So…maybe this wasn’t completely out of character for them…but it still caught me off guard. While Mikayla and I’s earlier kiss had been sweet and loving, this one was sultry and passionate. I stood there dumbly, just watching their dancing tongues while Mikayla’s hands explored her friend's body. They broke apart, smiling devilishly at each other before turning to me.

“Shots?” The both suggested in unison, before breaking into another fit of giggles.

After another trip to the bar, I followed the girls’ swaying rears back on the dancefloor. One or both of them led me by the hand at all times now. I was once again struck by how drunk I felt versus how sober they seemed to be.

My memories for the rest of the night started to get muddy. I couldn't remember much, just flashes of sweat and softness. I was making out with Mikayla, Mikayla was making out with Gabriela, Gabriela and I were making out. All our bodies writhing and gyrating into each other. I remember a cocktail of feelings: confusion, guilt, pride…. but more than any other, I remember being filled with unbridled lust. My hands pressed into the girls’ softness, their bodies pressed against mine. And, of course, I remembered tits. Their breasts were front and center, dancing in front of my gaze as I fell deeper and deeper under their spell. Mikayla’s mouth was on my neck, her breathy voice was in my ear.

“Isn’t she so big?”

“So soft.”

“Sooo nice.”

“It’s ok to stare.”

Tits were swaying rhythmically and I couldn’t look away as my girlfriend’s words seeped into my brain.

“Thinking is hard.” A hand grasped my hardness.

“Staring is easy. Don’t you want things to be easy?”

“Don’t you just looooove how big she’s gotten? Look how massive she’s become. She’s sooo much woman. Do you think you can handle that?”

“You want to be under the spell of a big and powerful woman, don’t you? Say it, baby….”

“Y-yes.” I breathed.

Two devilish smiles and a knowing glance between them.

"What was that honey? We couldn't quite hear you.

"y-Yes!" I sputtered enthralled by the idea of being under the spell of a giant woman and her equally giant tits.

One of the girls-Gabriela I think-pulled out her phone and said the bar was closing soon. She suggested we go outside for some air before closing our tab. I nodded along as Mikayla grabbed my hand, following her friend, and leading us to the patio area.

They carefully sat me down on some metal patio furniture across from them. They continued chatting, and glancing at me, while I just smiled stupidly back at them.

Honestly at this point I had no idea what was even going on. I just knew I felt…good…and I wanted to keep staring. I wanted to keep following their lead. I wanted to do…whatever they wanted.

“Ugh, that was SO MUCH FUN” one of them chirped.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my hands off your tits.”

“Yeah, they're kind of hard to avoid these days.”

Even though I wasn’t adding anything to the conversation, I was well aware that both girls were looking at me… even though they were talking to each other. Feeling a rush of drunken spins coming on, I decided I needed to settle my focus on something, and (to nobody's surprise) I settled right on Gabriela’s tits as I nodded along to their chatter.

“All those guys in there were so annoying. They were flocking to your new big titties like magnets.” More giggles. “Doesn’t it get annoying?”

Gabriela took an inflating breath. “Annoying? No. Quite the contrary, actually…”

How were they stringing sentences together like this when I felt so dumb? Still, I stared directly at the cleavage in front of me.

“It makes me feel…” Her shoulders pulled back, and she took another inflating breath. “Powerful.” She said in a confident tone that reverberated through my cock and sent tingles down my spine.

“But…” Gabriela continued. “You should know all about that. My tits might be new but you’ve had that rack since freshman year!”

Mikayla hmmm’d for a little bit.

Something about this discussion felt…. I don’t know… rehearsed?

“Well, I’m big. But you’re massive. I’ve never felt that power before.” I could feel her eyes boring into me. “But, I think I’d like to.” She finished devilishly.

Wait, what was she talking about? My ears perked up and (with tremendous effort) I pulled my gaze out of their cleavage, and gave a concerned look to my girlfriend of 4 years. Was she talking about getting on the Product?...Or…even more concerning, The Program? My mind, perhaps in self-defense, recalled Gabriella’s description from earlier, ‘for womankind to ascend, mankind has to wane.”

GULP. I didn’t want that! (Did I?)

Gabriella was talking again, both girls still looking directly into my soul.

“You’d get so, so big. So much bigger than me, so much quicker.” Her voice was husky and hypnotic. “I was barely a full B-cup when I started. You’re already stacked. You’d be bigger than me in no time if you started The Program. God, the feeling of getting bigger and more powerful feels so fucking good. I want that for you so badly.”

“What about you, honey?” Mikayla asked, her voice dripping with sweetness. “Do you want to see me grow bigger and more powerful? Do you want to see my breasts swell a little bigger each day? I know you're such a breast man… would you like to see me outgrow my bras? I know how much you loooove my big bras.” She smirked knowingly.

God, I tried not to think of that time she had caught me sneakily masturbating with her bra. I had hoped she had forgotten about that.

“I could try on some new bigger bras for you, when I start growing? Let you see my progress?”

A smarter man than me, or perhaps just a more sober man, would have put some of these puzzle pieces together. Far from being in competition with each other all night, the two best friends were working together from the start. Together they had spun a beautiful boob web, and I was the fly stuck in it. But I was not that smart, and not that sober. I didn’t see the trap. And as much as the idea of my girlfriend getting even more chest-heavy appealed to me. A part of me (perhaps my male ego or sense of self-preservation) still felt very conflicted by this whole indecent proposal.

Something about it felt…unatural…and downright terrifying. It felt like jumping off a cliff, and never being able to go back.

“Well, honey? What do you think?”

“I… I dunno.” We both knew about The Product, sure, but, honestly, we had never talked about it, and this hardly felt like the time and place to do so. As I found my voice, I decided to serve up some platitudes rather than make any big decisions. “I want you to be happy, but you’re already so big.”

“Yes, but imagine if she was even bigger!”

“Yeah, well… I dunno…” I gulped. Already in our relationship I felt a little powerless around Mikayla’s tits. It was a great fear of mine that she’d realize the power her chest held over me…. She might even take advantage of it, if she wasn't already. Did I want this unspoken power dynamic to be spoken? Did I want her leverage over to become even BIGGER? Did I want to be her doting little puppy dog boyfriend?

“I can see you’re thinking about it. How about this….why don’t the three of us go back to our place. We can have some drinks, put on some music, have a little fun. I want to absolutely spoil my little breast man. Tonight, our titties are going to be your whole fucking world. You can worship at the altar of boobies all night. Getting up close and personal with Gabriela’s girls might help you learn to appreciate what I could become. If you're man enough to go through with it, that is.

You can spend all night experiencing the benefits of a bigger Gabriella, and imagining what life could be like for us. Maybe that’ll help you make up your mind?”

I stared at her utterly speechless, unable to think. I backed away slightly shocked and confused.This could not be real!

"Don't you worry." Gabriella said as she snuggled her chest close to me. "We can just…talk…" Mikayla my girlfriend, took her hands and cupped her best friends giant tits, making them look bigger than ever. She gave them a demonstrative wobble with a smirk.

"We will help you come to the right conclusion no matter how many times it takes.”

"That’s it. That's a good boy."

"Let us…take care of you…"

[aflairforthejaz]

Cubicles (✦)

kang yeosang x fem!reader

synopsis: He’s always loved you but you were too blind to see it. Now that you’re gone, he’s not sure what he should do. Should he chase after you? Should he leave you alone and forget about his feelings?

warnings: mentions of cheating, cursing, death, loneliness, name-calling, yeosang is emo (im emo)

Life at the office has been hell. Everything seems to be falling apart, day by day. No one can really get a grip on reality. Especially Yeosang.

Ever since you moved to a different building 3 states away, he can’t stop but think about of you. He didn’t try and convince you to stay, although he wanted to. He wanted what he thought was best for you and that promotion was the best way to get you away from all the shitty people in the office. Still, it left him with nobody. What is he supposed to do now that you aren’t here?

The boss is thinking of dropping him due to his poor work ethic but he doesn’t know that. He doesn’t know about anything going on in the office. He just sits in his cubicle and blast music through his headphones. No one questions him about, not because they felt bad for him, but because he was considered weird. He never attended any office get-togethers. At first, they thought that it was just him being shy and new to the workplace that he maybe felt like a burden but after months of the same behavior, they realized that he was never up for anything.

Yeosang wasn’t here to make friends and giggle with each other from across the room, he wanted to do his work and leave.

That was until you came along.

Oh, how beautiful you were. Too beautiful for this kind of workplace. Oh, how he knew you deserved more and he wanted to give you the world the second he laid his eyes on you.

He immediately approached you and introduced himself. This was a shocker to everyone in the office since he would never greet any kind of interns or new colleagues that entered the building. What made you so special? Did he know you? Were you guys dating?

After a few weeks of you being in the office, Yeosang was the only one you would really talk to. You always wondered why he never spoke to anyone else but you never pushed him to tell you.

He was already in love with you but he never said anything about. He didn’t want to scare you away.

In his last relationship, his girlfriend had cheated on him with 7 different guys. He started to believe there was no hope in love anymore. The was obviously until you came in.

You were the one.

Or so he thought.

Why’d you leave so soon? Couldn’t you have stayed a little longer? Or at least waited until he was promoted as well? Now they’re going to fill your place in the office with someone else.

You were always only two cubes down, not too far for him to get to. He’d always finish up his work early just so he could help you. More like just to talk to you. But now you’re gone, he really doesn’t know what to do. He let you slip from his arms and now you’re probably off with another guy just talking your heads off the same way you and him did.

Oh, how he misses your scent. The vanilla perfume that you said was gifted to you from a friend of yours. Oh, how he misses your smile. He misses you so much. So much that it’s genuinely killing him.

He knows that this is just stupid but he can’t accept reality. He wanted you. Why didn’t you take the time to notice his feelings? You can’t now and never will.

Now all he’ll do is live and die alone.