#man speaking of that i should write something for the m reader tag-

[mirrology]

Just saw that you write for genshin too!! Yay!!

I wanted to request a child reader who doesn't like talking to people but shy way- but bc she feels like there is no point in it also is a genius but doesn't go to the akademia bc of financial reasons so alhaitham adopts her? Also, kaveh and alhaitham act like parents towards her? Like kaveh scolding her for not making friends at the akademia and scolding alhaitham bc he is not a good example? Basically, kaveh being the worried mom and alhaitham being the cool dad

Sorry if this request was too long and specific 😅 I had this brainrot for a long time and wanted to share it with you

ノ Demure .ᐟ ʚɞ

୨୧ reserved, modest, and shy.

alhaitham, kaveh & gender neutral reader. platonic. | wc: 1.1k

tags/warnings: child reader, typical kavetham bickering, reader is considered a genius, reader has no parents, a little bit of angst regarding reader's backstory

notes: WOW THIS IS SO SO LATE!! I'M SO SORRYY, I've been having a really hard time with my mental health.

she/her pronouns were used in the ask, but the reader is gender neutral so everyone can enjoy. sorry if that's not what you wanted!

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

— For as long as you can remember, you were alone. In a house that brought back nostalgia, but those memories were buried deep into your mind, and no matter how hard you tried to dig them up, they stayed hidden.

— You took up small jobs around sumeru to get by, to at least look presentable in public. Even though it was considered child labor, you didn't care. Although when it came to speaking to people, it was difficult. People could be stubborn and rude, you didn't grow up knowing social cues or ways to respond. So, the only option you had was not speaking.

— When you didn't respond to the person that was talking to you, they either assumed you were mute or that you were rude and just didn't want to speak to them.

— Once, you were out in the desert in search of materials for your employer. You had crouched down as you spotted something shining underneath the grains of sand. It was a gem, and it looked quite expensive. The next thing you knew… you were surrounded by people in outfits that you hadn't seen before. Each and every one of them had a sort of red blind fold on. They demanded that you hand it over.

— You couldn't get a response out as your body froze up in fear. Just as one of them was going to swing their weapon down, it was intercepted by a sword.

— It was a man in green, before anyone could react the man knocked out the people who were previously surrounding you. Your eyes sparkled in awe, watching as the man swiftly landed on his feet. His head turned to you, causing you to flinch at his cold eyes, but they slightly softened in something you couldn't quite put your finger on.

↳ Your mouth hung open as you stared at the man in green. He beat up the scary looking people, he… he was so cool! Your eyes sparkled and were basically radiating light. His head turned to you, his eyes were narrowed, and that made you jump and quickly close your open mouth. The man started approaching you — you, not exactly trusting him, looked around for an opening to run away. The man knelt down to your height, yet still at a comfortable distance, his eyes trailed over your face, taking in your features and searching for any injuries. A small bead of sweat ran down the side of your face, discomfort written on your face. “Do you have anywhere to go?” The green man asked. You reluctantly shook your head. Your former house — that was barely staying together - didn't really count. He offered you his hand. “Would you like to come with me?”

You stared at the hand that he held out, should you agree? I mean it's not like you have anywhere else to go, and you weren't exactly made for hard labor jobs… you put your hand on his and nodded, he stood up with your hand is his. “My name is Alhaitham.” He said while looking down at you expectantly. “I'm (Name)...” You muttered but you could tell from his nod that he heard it.

— When you went with Alhaitham, you expected to be taken to an orphanage or taken to the authorities, yet that wasn't the case. He had taken you to his house and given you clean clothes, a warm bed to sleep in and… a roommate?

— After you had taken a bath and changed, Alhaitham had sat you on the couch and explained that he wasn't the only one who lived in the house. You really hadn't expected it since he seems like the type of person to like his alone time, but you understood.

— Once Kaveh came home after a long day of dealing with indecisive clients, he was met with you, and Alhaitham engaged in a game of chess and… The former was actually losing. To Kaveh It felt like a fever dream, so his only response was to stand in the doorway. But once he realized that there was someone other than him and Alhaitham in the house, and that someone was a CHILD.

— oh boy, Kaveh is immediately asking 1000 questions per minute. How did you get here? Where are their parents? Do you even know if they have any other relatives? and so on and so forth.

— Once Kaveh and dwindled down from his flurry of questions, Alhaitham explained your situation.

↳ Kaveh put a hand on his chin as he took in the information provided by his roommate. He hummed “So… they're staying with us?” He asked Alhaitham with a raised eyebrow. “Yes, that's right.” The scribe nodded and crossed his arms, Kaveh sighed “Alright…” He trailed off and met eyes with your wide ones. “I'm Kaveh, nice to meet you, (Name)” He gave you a small smile. Your mouth turned into an ‘o’ shape ‘he's pretty’ you thought.

— As the days went by and the three of you got adjusted to living together, Alhaitham noticed something peculiar about you. You were much more perceptive than other children, often pointing out details that even some adults couldn't have seen, and you learn surprisingly quickly for a child your age.

— You also took a strange interest in the akademia. Whenever you, with either of your guardians, would pass by the akademia, your eyes would be immediately glued to the entrance doors. Alhaitham, seeing your subtle hints of interest, decided to talk with Kaveh to see if they should enroll you in the akedemia.

— and surprisingly, it didn't take much convincing to get Kaveh to agree. The both of them had acknowledged your perceptive nature and quick interest in the akademia. They decided to give you a chance, since it seems that you never had a proper education. They sat you down to tell you, and once they did… you lit up, a rare but well received squeal escaped your mouth as you rapidly thanked them as you ran up to hug them. Your wholesome reaction forced a smile out of Alhaitham and a hearty laughter out of Kaveh.

— You loved your time in the akademia, learning about different plants, animals, and complicated equations that you came close to solving. The only slight problem was… that you didn't make an effort to talk to other kids your age. It was just that you went the best at talking to people, and you got really anxious when you did. It didn't help that you froze up when someone approached you.

— Alhaitham in return, assured you that you didn't need to interact with people. You just needed to focus on your studies and yourself, but Kaveh had the opposite opinion. He believed it was essential to have friends or just people to talk to. It would build up social skills and help with public speaking. At Kaveh's rambling, Alhaitham muttered a quiet "Don't listen to him”, yet Kaveh heard his remark and started to scold him for encouraging the anti-social behavior. Although you kept Kaveh’s advice in mind, you weren't planning on public speaking or speaking to people anytime soon.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Hello! Would you do how Anselm, Nathan and the Moon Boys handle/be with a person with tremors/general shakiness? No rush!

Of course, I hope I did this justice! <3

Tremors

Multiple Oscar Isaac Characters x gn!Reader • Rating: 18 + pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? • ask-travaganza masterlist •

Warnings: Fluff, mention of sexy times, mention of murder (Anselm's gotta shoot someone), not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 509

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

Steven Grant

Researches and then does lots of different relaxation techniques with you to see if any of them help reduce the shaking.

Literally becomes a walking encyclopaedia of information on the subject.

Will loudly dress down anyone who dares to say anything rude.

“Relaxing is meant to help, love, yeah?” Then proceeds to make you come against his mouth until you beg him to stop.

Tells you he loves you and kisses the area/s that are shaking.

Marc Spector

Marc’s the king of acts of service, he just wants to be helpful. If the tremors are getting too much for you he would quietly offer to help, whether it’s dressing, writing, cooking, whatever you need. But will always ask first. He doesn’t want to baby you or be over the top.

Goes to any doctor’s appointments and listens quietly. He makes notes for you so that you can refer to them later. Will only speak if it seems like the doctor is talking over you/not taking you seriously.

Gives you a massage to help relax you.

Tuts at Steven for overstimulating you with oral sex, then gets you to cockwarm him until you feel like jelly.

Jake Lockley

Holds your hands, a lot. Especially if you get self-conscious about any shaking. 

Will definitely joke about you wrapping your fingers around his dick when the tremors are bad to make you smile and tut at him.

“Amor, maybe I should fuck you until you’re shaking from exhaustion instead?” 

You giggle but he gets an earful from Marc about his lackluster jokes. 

Fucks you into the mattress until you’re too blissed out to care about anything.

Nathan Bateman

Spends days designing equipment to help you. Depending on what causes the tremors affects what he’s going to do, whether it’s something for you to wear that helps with the shaking or just tools that will counteract the movement, or a mixture of both.

Never mentions it until you bring it up first.

Likes to hold you and wrap his arms around you. You apologised once for your shaking and how it must be disturbing him.

He told you how much he actually liked it, “feels like a massage chair.” He’d teased, but you realised he was so hopelessly in love with you that he finds absolutely everything about you to be attractive. 

Doesn’t bring up the idea of intimacy to help relax you first, but once you do he’s quick to ask every time after.

Anselm Vogelweide

Very gentle. Whatever you need you’re getting. And if anyone even says something that remotely upsets you, they’re getting shot. 

Flies in every specialist to help.

Threatens to burn anything/anyone to cinders who causes you any stress.

Some shaking started/increased once when an associate raised his voice once and you thought he was going to pull out the man’s eyes and shove them up his ass.

With your permission, he likes to tie you up and fuck you senseless. “See, my love? No shaking when you’re bound up so beautifully.” 

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

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[moodymisty]

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Part 2 of ? - Part 1

Author's note: Part 2, enjoy. More severe yandere combined with a teeny tiny tiny bit of lewdness. Could I write another part? Maybe. ;3 I just wanted to keep myself at a reasonable amount of work while I take my 'break'.

Summary: Guilliman falls for the one person who's treated him like a man, and wants nothing more than for you to never leave him.

Relationships: Guilliman/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Yandere, Obsessive relationship and Guilliman using his power to manipulate and trap you, I don't have to tag age difference do I?, Dubious consent, Guilliman's yandere grip gets tighter and a bit more obvious

Word Count: 2813

Guilliman and you both look over a holotable, the sickly green glow casting both of your bodies in it's light. Guilliman notices you glancing up at him more than a few times, in-between speaking.

He's more than pleased he threw everyone out of this room, to grant you both a moment of privacy. Having to maintain decorum around you is difficult, far more than he thought it would be.

"The planet is largely unmined, with some convincing, we could perhaps take advantage of all the raw material." You notice Guilliman's reaction to the prospect when you take another glance upward at him.

"I don't like that face," You joke. "You look irritated at that idea." Guilliman takes a deep breath through his nose.

"I remember this planet, from the Great Crusade. They were pompous and unmovable. Perhaps time has mellowed them." He looks at you, and watches the silky blue fabric of your dress shift against your form as you lean to one side and think.

The dress was a gift from him. One of many. He had excused it as a business expense, to match you with him and his legion in attire. It should be obvious upon first glance that you are with him, a part of the Ultramarines. Though your happiness at seeing it had fit absolutely perfect was worth more than anything else.

The necklace laying against your collarbone was one as well. The more he looks the more he realizes that you're swimming in gifts. Even after such a short period of time.

You gently smile at his comment. "Hopefully it has." Guilliman shifts, and outside the Armour of Fate, he takes pleasure in the ability to twist and turn without limits.

"There was not many planets that I could say truly made me angry; This was one of them." You raise your eyebrows while listening. "Perhaps this time with you will be different." Guilliman leans away from the holotable, and changes the subject to something more casual.

"Would you like something to drink?" He says. "You've been here for hours now." You shake your head and laugh at him, hands pressing against the edge of the holotable's frame.

"I am always here for hours, Roboute. I practically live here."

You are almost always at his side, either on new planets or on the Macragge’s Honor, surrounded by Ultramarines. Anyone you might’ve known on Macragge has fallen to the wayside, friendships decayed. You simply didn’t have the time for them, anymore.

Guilliman had made sure of it.

As for 'practically' live here, you do live here; Any attempt to leave would've been swiftly denied but any myriad of excuses. One of the positives of him keeping you so busy has been that you simply think it easier just to stay on the ship, and Guilliman knows as time passes you'll begin to think of it as home instead of where you lived before.

You almost never speak to the few guardsmen or serfs around however, as they’d been ordered to by and large avoid you, unless given a task. Your only option for company is him, or his men. You’ve spoken to Sicarius all of once, and rarely others. Many of them have yet to warm up to your sudden entrance into their lives, and legion.

You and Lieutenant Titus had begun to chatter a bit more as of late, but Guilliman had made sure to tell the marine to keep his words curt, and hands to himself.

"But yes. I'll gladly take a drink."

In this moment Guilliman is thankful he can stay out of the Armour of Fate for more than a few hours at a time now, as he pours a glass of wine for you. He is already far too large for this world, and the gauntlets would've only made such a task impossible. You speak up again as he hands you one of the two glasses, and you gently take it between both of your much gentler hands.

"I never did thank you properly for the dress." He shakes his head.

"You should be wearing attire appropriate of your position; You're no longer just a translator on Macragge; You are part of the Ultramarines, now." He continues. "And you should consider it a gift for your fine work, as well."

You softly thank him, a gentle smile on your face as you take another sip of wine. He can see the stain on your lips, before you wick it away.

He can tell on your face that you're tired, after hours and hours of this. He's sure the other diplomats don't provide very good company, especially for long periods.

But just as you open your mouth to say your goodbyes, to return to your quarters and leave him alone for hours once again, Guilliman cuts you off.

Now is a better time than any. You both are alone, in good spirits; He doubts he'll find a better time to say this.

“I do have one more thing to ask of you, before you leave.”

With a curious look you gaze up at him, the wine glass empty in your hand. You set it aside as Guilliman rounds the holotable to stand in front of you. You aren't phased by it, his physical stature and position in the Imperium no longer do so after so much time together. Yet another reason why he needs to grab hold of you tight before he no longer has the chance.

“I’m all ears, Roboute.”

You speak so humanly and casually to him, which makes him nearly smile.

He can’t wait to finally make you his.

To not have to stand a distance away, to keep his hands away from you. To refer to you with your proper title, and forgo the intimacy of your given name. His men don't tolerate you speaking to him so casually, but as Lady Guilliman, they'll have little choice in the matter.

He had wanted to do this slowly, properly, but he is so unfathomably inpatient when you're so close to him.

Guilliman takes a knee, and enjoys the feeling of being able to do so outside of his hulking armor. The action makes your eyebrows raise, curious as to why he seems to be acting so different than moments before. While he might lament his height at times, he rarely kneels in front of you, unless what he must say is of the utmost importance.

"I suppose I should be blunt," He says, before continuing. “You have been nothing but kind, forgiving, and humorous with me.”

You look at him confused, the pale green light of the holotable illuminating half of your face.

"In all of our time together, it has dawned on me that my fondness for you perhaps goes beyond just that of a friend."

You look so surprised; How innocent you are to how much he needs you, even as he says this.

“I would ask for more as to court you the way a woman such as you deserves.”

He knows from a source, multiple of them, that your family has been seeking a marriage for you. Your work and fierce independence, as well as Guilliman's sudden diplomatic proposition, had postponed it for the time being, but Macragge’s culture would eventually catch up to you.

His own proposal will put a fierce stop to that. A real one, not one for a diplomatic position. That was to simply get you away from them, off of Macragge; You being so well versed at it was simply good fortune. But for once he’s pleased with the worship his title brings him; Someone so high in the Imperium would never refuse his asking for your hand.

And if he did, Guilliman knows of more than a few other options to fix such a problem.

He also knows you won’t say no. He knows that no suitor your family found for you could ever stand next to him, and not lost in his shadow. He would refuse to allow it. You don’t know any of them as well as you do him, you’ve been surrounded by nothing but his sons for nearly a year now. Your entire life is him, his legion and his crusade.

Your few friends and acquaintances have slowly fallen away one by one, friendships decaying or their fear of misstepping around a women so close to the Lord Regent pushing them all away. Familiar faces have been forgotten, your guards replaced with his own men.

For once, he finally gets a chance to be selfish. To finally have someone he can call his own; Who will never leave him. Someone there for him in every meaning of the word, and no longer will he have to traverse this rotten galaxy alone.

“I, um,” Now of all times words have left you, and you stumble over your tongue. Though Guilliman has no need for you to say any of them.

He knows you’re going to say yes. There is no possible scenario of all the ones he has meticulously planned out where you don't.

If you some how defied the odds and did so out of some sort of corruption or manipulation, he has more than enough time to keep you held somewhere safe until you regained your senses.

Guilliman takes a hand and cups the side of your jaw, tilting your head upward. Such an angle makes it easier for the massive primarch to press his lips to your own, stiff from surprise.

Though they do soften, and you accept his kiss. Your eyes flutter closed and your hands go from frozen in front of your chest, to laying against his collarbone.

His lips press against yours harder, and you softly sigh into his mouth.

His difference in stature makes even such a simple thing require so much logistical thinking, as he looms over you. His strength makes it so easy to push you away, so he places a hand on your back to keep your close.

This moment, and many farther beyond, have been replayed in his head a million times. He knows each step to take. Each movement to pull your closer into him, and to be gentle with you. No matter how much is patience is tried as your warm, soft lips finally press against his; Your heart and breath like music to his ears. He can hear it all, now that you're so close.

You pull away for a moment- lips plump and well kissed- and take a breath but as soon as he sees your mouth open to try and form words, he swallows them. His lips press against yours again with even more force than the last.

You want this, you want him; He refuses to let you talk yourself out of it.

His massive hand trails up your thigh, slowly pushing up the bottom your dress. He reveals more and more, and he swears he can smell the way your body is calling for him. The soft flesh of your thighs is surely visible now, nearly at their apex and he wants nothing more than to place his head between them and make your cry out for him.

“Lord Guilliman?”

The Primarch quickly moves to right himself, as you brush the bottom of your dress back into form.

The duo of Astartes instead of waiting simply spoke his name as they walked in, now standing in the entrance watching their Primarch boil in his own armor.

In a morose thought, he supposes this was how Angron felt about his sons at times; The hate.

“What is it that is so important that it could not wait?”

Both men are unable to read the room, and fail to notice you with your wide eyes, heavy breathing, and the way your arms wrap around your body. One arm of your dress dropped revealing your shoulder, and you quickly fix it. The bottom of your dress catches on the soft flesh of your thighs, and fails to right itself until you quickly brush it downward.

“Lord Calgar wishes to speak with you immediately. He explicitly stated it was urgent.”

“Everything with Calgar is urgent…” Guilliman uncharacteristically mumbles.

You back away from him, and Guilliman resists the urge to grab you. He resists it purely to not startle you after so much has happened; He doesn't wish to push you too hard just yet.

“I’ll see you in a bit then, Guilliman. I should get some rest before we make it planetside.”

With little option in the matter without using force, Guilliman nods.

“…Very well. Perhaps we can continue this conversation another time.” You look him in the eyes for a moment before glancing away.

"Yes, I'd like that."

He resists the urge to let the corners of his mouth drift upwards, before reluctantly letting you leave.

Guilliman taps his armored fingers against the tabletop in a rare moment of impatience. He takes a deep breath, and his armor shifts. He can still feel the softness of your lips on his from the evening before, and he wants nothing more than to finish what he had started, no matter how much this forsaken crusade attempts to get in his way.

He knows you'll wake soon and begin your day. It will be a longer one, with hours of frivolous speech with various diplomats and dignitaries. You're far better than he at these sorts of things. In his youth he might've been a bit more patient with the song and dance, but now he has little time for it.

You'll meet him here once you're ready. He has your routines memorized, paths traced. He knows how much time you take, and if you deviate from it, he'll send someone to right your path and bring you to him. You might have more freedom than many aboard the Macragge's Honor, but only because he knows you will always return to him.

His men know to not let you wander too far anyhow. They might be neutral to you now, but they know to not allow you too far out of your bounds for too long, even if you can't see the line.

It's not as if you have much reason to leave those bounds anyhow, now. Everything you could ever want is here. Everything you need is with him. All you have to do is ask.

Perhaps for a moment he might feel guilty, to not allow you a baseline human's normal life. But then he remembers how much he's given these thousands of years, how selfless he's been, and he casts that guilt aside.

“Sicarius.”

The Astartes is at attention near instantly, and comes to his genefather’s side with his helmet in his hand and the other on the pommel of his chainsword. A perfect marine in perfect form, as always.

“Yes, Lord Primarch?” He speaks your name, gentle on his tongue. Even just saying it returns a bit of his sanity to him.

“I don’t want anywhere she goes to be unseen when she is planetside. Use as many men as you see fit to accomplish such a task.” Sicarius shifts his weight slightly.

The captain is still new to you, to all of this with his primarch's sudden idée fixe, and expresses his concerns in a rare fit of doubt.

“My lord, is that not a waste of resources for one diplomat? For what reason?”

Guilliman sighs. Of course the one time he was relying on Sicarius' stalwart dependability and devotion, he doubts him.

"Because, Sicarius," He turns, and his shoulders straighten underneath the Armour of Fate's large pauldrons. The old wound on his neck pulses; Healed and gone, but still aching like there is a ghost of the blade that killed him.

"If she is hurt, or if someone manages to kill her, then this entire Imperium can burn in the Warp, for all I would care."

The Ultramarine Captain stands stunned, more than likely shocked by his primarch’s seeming lack of care to the modern Imperium.

Though it seems Sicarius takes his words as some sort of euphemism, or joke- he's been known to make one or two, if he feels keen- and nods.

“…It will be done, my lord.”

One day perhaps the man will understand what it’s like to be so infatuated with another. Though unlikely. Sicarius is far too absorbed in his own duties and faith to look past his own boots.

But Guilliman can. He knows his future is with you. You’ll be at his side, as his confident, his lover, the mother of his sons not made on an apothecary table.

It will all happen, it just needs time. Guilliman has the ability to give you every single thing you could ever want- be it physical or otherwise- and he has the patience to wait for you as you continue to slowly fall into his arms.

[bangtanintotheroom]

Plug & Play (M)(Teaser)

• Pairing: Guitarist!Hongjoong x (F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Rock Band!AU, Smut, Strangers to Lovers

• Rating: 18+

• Words (teaser): 742

• Summary: Tonight is the night that you quit being a bystander and make a move towards the guitarist on stage with the devilish smile.

• Warnings/themes: a rock show! 🎸, swearing, drinking, pining, Y/N is a horny bean, Hongjoong and his dangerous smiles 🫠, Yeosang the wingman, flirting, making out, semi-public sex, oral (f. receiving), dirty talk, fingering, hitting it from the back, fingers in mouth, finger sucking, protected sex (be responsible!), clothed sex, multiple orgasms

• Notes: Welp, it’s happened; I fell for yet another leader 🙃 which culminated in me going feral over his recent guitar solo and needing to write something related to it. So here it is! I should have this uploaded by Thursday morning, the latest, since I’ll be out of town for a few days. We’re trucking along pretty quickly, so I have faith! 💕

• Teaser Notes: Teasers are a WIP and will not fully reflect the final draft, warnings and themes are subject to change. If you want to be tagged when the final draft is released, either leave a reply or shoot me an ask!

• Taglist: @minttangerines @minisugakoobies @firesighgirl @swga-ficrecs @hyunjinsjeans

“I’m gonna fuck him.”

Yeosang stared at you from behind the counter, wondering if he heard you right amidst the clinking glasses and rock music.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, I’m gonna fuck him, Yeo.”

“Who?”

You rolled your eyes, rotating ninety degrees to point at the object of your desire on stage.

“Him.”

There was little surprise on your end at the scoff you heard from behind.

“You’re still on that mission?”

Your head whipped around incredulously. “Yes! Why are you shocked by this?”

Yeosang’s expression reeked of indifference as he wiped some bottles down.

“Because I thought you would have given up by now.”

“I don’t give up easily, dude—” Your eyes watched as a certain someone tuned their guitar strings. “—especially when I really want something.”

And you really wanted the man you had in your sights.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks. Are you new here?”

Your head shook at Seonghwa’s question. “No, I don’t even work here. Just helping my friend out while he gets slammed with customers.”

The pretty guitarist smiled softly.

“That’s very nice of you.”

Your cheeks couldn’t help but warm a tiny bit, shooting him the same look. “Thank you. He has to listen to enough of my ranting at home, might as well ease his pain somehow.”

Yunho blinked curiously before asking, “You’re roommates?”

“Mhm.”

He made a sound of understanding, yet another voice cut in before he could say anything.

“Thought you looked familiar.”

You focused your sight on Hongjoong, recognition on his attractive face that had your heart beating a little faster.

“Me?”

“Yeah—” His mouth quirked. “—thought I saw you hanging around Yeosang the last few times we were here.”

Oof. You weren’t sure how to react to him basically saying that he recognized you from afar. It wasn’t a bad thing, at all, considering your end goal, but you were surprised he even remembered with the amount of people in this building.

All you could muster was a scratch of the back of your neck, trying not to fluster further under his gaze.

“Haha, that’s me, always bugging him.”

Hongjoong gave a soft laugh, eyes scrunching in humor. It only made you more bashful, trying your best not to rub the toe of your boot into the ground.

Noticing that Yunho was roped into a conversation with the others now, it just left you alone with the lead guitarist.

A window of opportunity!

But for some reason, you couldn’t muster the words to continue speaking with him. Even though he continued to acknowledge you with his gaze, your eyes averted to watch the stage behind the dining tables.

“Hey.”

Your ears perked up, looking up to see Hongjoong eyeing you with curiosity.

“What’s your name?”

A lifesaver.

You had to hold back the large grin you wanted to give, settling for a polite smile instead.

“Y/N.”

“So…”

You turned around, hearing the door shut and lock before Hongjoong approached you, lips curled akin to someone ready to indulge in the sweetest dessert of their life.

“Is this a much better spot?”

Your mouth twisted in humor, nodding as you replied with delight, “Much better.”

“Good.”

The both of you looked into each other’s eyes, bodies thrumming with energy that was ready to be unleashed at any moment. Although, no one made a move for a moment.

That is, until Hongjoong chose to take a step forward, leaving the tiniest of spaces between you two.

Having him so close directly in front of you had even more of an effect than before, his fresh scent invading your nostrils while your heart pumped faster. It got worse when a hand came up to brush some hair behind your ear, his touch making you bite your lip.

Hongjoong noticed your shift and chuckled, “Nervous?”

You shook your head.

“No, just…excited.”

His grin only widened at your admission, sliding his hand down gently cradle your jaw.

“Same. Didn’t think I’d ever get to be up close and personal with Yeosang’s pretty friend.”

Although you were melting inside at the compliment, your eyebrow raised in amazement.

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“So why didn’t you make a move first?”

You hoped to trip him up, but the guitarist didn’t seem fazed, straight teeth almost blinding you.

“I wanted to see how badly you wanted me.”

His low response brought a mixture of exasperation and lust to you, your eyes rolling as you huffed, “You rockstars and your egos.”

©bangtanintotheroom, 2024. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

[enditen]

birds of a feather

summary: a bit of understandable anger toward your fiancé for— in your eyes— unwise decisions leads to hurt feelings and avoidance. thankfully, the two of you come back together in the most interesting of places.

word count: 4090ish.

rating: m

warnings: public sexual acts. talk of death ( rooster's, goose's and carole's ). angst. two adults being stubborn fools. talk about breasts. talk about ruining hawaiian shirts and dress whites. kind of playing around with naval deployments and what not.

pairing: bradley ( rooster ) bradshaw x female reader ( callsign vulture )

author's note: hi, first fic in this fandom that was simply supposed to be hot titty fucking with a title of a tit for a cock and then turned into 4k of angst then some titty fucking. some of you might recognize me from another fandom on here on tumblr to which if you do, hi y'all. also i feel like i missed tags and i'm sorry about that. assuming i write more for this because i've gotten over my nervousness i'll learn. and special thanks to @blurredcolour for being a little cheerleader

You’re beginning to wonder if there’s just something about Maverick that just turns everyone around him a bit stupid. You like to think that most of the team surrounding your fiancé aren’t idiots and yet there you were being proven completely wrong as you listened to Bradley explain what exactly had happened on the mission.



“That’s not what he meant when he said don’t think!” You remembered screaming into the phone, knowing fully well that while Mav was his own special brand of stupid- and deliriously lucky he wasn’t the same level of pure unadulterated idiocy Bradley was displaying.

“It worked out!” Was somehow his raspy defense and it had taken all your self control to not hang up the phone right then and there, the sheer unmitigated aggravation seeping through your pores As it stood, what you did end up doing was letting out the world’s most put upon sigh as you rolled your eyes.



“You’re just lucky Mav didn’t have to bury another bird.” At Rooster’s sharp inhale you started to speak again. “I didn’t mean it— I’m just—”



“No. I get it, Vulture,” he spat out your callsign, a definite sign that he’s pissed and you had struck a nerve you honestly shouldn’t have right in that moment before you heard something in the background. “You don’t have to come get me, I’ll get home fine.”



The silence after he hung up feels almost as all consuming as the idea of him dying was.

It’s always been a thing that when one of you comes back from deployment or from a mission or from visiting friends who are stationed somewhere else that you pick one another up. Some of your friends call it silly, but for you and Rooster it works. You’ve always wanted to be together all the time but at the same time— when opportunities present themselves you’ve never been the type to ignore them. Hell, even if you wanted to, the other one would just argue against ignoring the opportunity. That’s why you found yourself here, waiting for Rooster to come back from what should have been a mission he didn’t come back from. What was almost a mission he didn’t come back from. You wonder if this is how his mom felt with his father and if the reason she never wanted him to become a pilot like this is to avoid anyone else having her fate. You see Rooster walking with Hangman and are about to lean out of the car to tell him to get his ass in the car before he sees you through your windshield. The look he gives you is one of aggravation and hurt that you’ve so rarely seen on his face that it practically pins you to your seat in the car. You've seen those brown eyes look at you with so much love and you've made jokes comparing them to warm chocolate more than once but in this moment— all they do is remind you of a hardened and unbreakable tree.



He shakes his head before turning to keep talking to Hangman, laughing at some probable dumb joke the man said and you swear your stomach drops through the floor of the car. You hadn’t thought he was serious about not wanting you to come get him and here he was getting into someone else’s car to go— home? Maybe, or maybe he was going to crash on Hangman’s couch or find— no. No, for all that Rooster was angry with the slip of your tongue he would never cheat on you. He loves you in a way that makes other people sick and makes Maverick and Penny tell you that yeah, you kind of remind them of his dad and Carole.



Still, he’s never been this angry at you and that terrifies you in ways that you can’t put into words. You’ve flown dangerous missions that didn’t terrify you as much as the look on Rooster’s face did right in that moment. After what feels like hours, but is only really ten minutes you pull out of the area you were parked in and head home. You don’t realize Hangman hasn’t left and that Rooster watches you leave from his side of the truck. 



“She couldn’t have done anything that bad, man.” Jake tries to reason as he puts the truck in reverse. 



“You don’t know her like I do," he scoffs, shaking his head and slipping on his aviators. "I forgot why she’s called Vulture. Just— Just drive.”

You suppose it's a mercy that you see Rooster the next morning, making coffee as if he didn't break your tradition with one glance through a car windshield. Suppose you should be thankful he's back home and in your kitchen and not back home in a casket, but you've never been one to allow yourself simple pleasures like that when you're hurt. When your heart's twisted into the version of itself that only releases anger and toxic fumes to push away everyone you hold dear.



That anger has your mouth moving before your brain can catch up and make you see sense. All you know is that the man you love hasn't said one word to you since that phone call and he's only making one cup of coffee and not two. Another tradition broken and you can only see red.



"Are you ignoring me?" You ask the moment he turns around, sipping his coffee without seemingly a care in the world.



Bradley isn't necessarily the more verbose out of the two of you, but he's never particularly short with you. Today is the exception, much like everything about the past two days.



"No." A pause as he sets down his coffee cup and you see a bit of coffee clinging to his upper lip and that stupid little mustache you've grown to love over the years. "Maybe."



"Maybe," you parrot, moving over to where he's standing and watching as he moves just far enough away to allow you to grab your own cup and your own specific pod to make your coffee. "You nearly die, I say something stupid and now you're acting like a moody teenager. Cute, Roo."



Roo. Not even Rooster and certainly not his name because he certainly doesn't deserve it in this moment. You watches as his eyes drift over your body, noting how you're wearing one of his favorite Hawaiian shirts with the top buttons unbuttoned, revealing skin that normally he'd have covered in kisses a thousand times over since he returned last night. Instead it's unmarred by his lips and teeth and you're as vicious as can be. Two can play that game. Two can be childish.



"I'm sorry, something stupid. No— no, you didn't say something stupid. You said something cruel. That's a big difference, babe. One is normal, the other is you reminding me that I could have left you alone just like my mom was. Like that didn't go through my head. Like Maverick didn't tell me that much while we were heading back. "



A laugh erupts from deep inside your chest as you turn to look at Rooster. "Did it really go through your head? Did you think I'm throwing away my life with Vulture because I need to save someone who ruined parts of my life? Or did your brain get scrambled from the G's?"



You watch as eyes that you love start to fill with something resembling tears as his hand clenches the coffee cup. He loves you, he knows that to be a simple fact. He loves you. His father loved him and his mother. Mav loves him and loved his father and his mother. And you love him. In this moment though, that last one feels like a joke, feels like a dagger twisting in his chest. Maybe you don't love him if this is what you want to spew at him. You're a woman who should have had a callsign of Viper but only gets Vulture because you can handle things other people couldn't. You take care of things other people wouldn't or couldn't. He supposes you taking on all of those things is what makes you the way you are.



"It's what my dad would have done," he forces the words out and tries to not cry because you know what that means to him. You know know better than anyone. "I was his wingman."



"And what about my wingman, Bradley?" Your question comes out softer than you mean it to even as you slam your coffee pod into the machine. Somehow tears start to tease the edge of your eye line. "You were just going to leave me without mine. You really are your father's son. Guess I should be happy we don't have a little you running around. That's a little too on the nose."



The slam of the coffee cup startles you more than anything you've thought was possible in that moment and yet without missing a beat you turn to face Rooster once again in time for you to see angry tears falling from his eyes. "I'm not doing this. You're— I didn't leave you. You're not having to bury me and you're not having to be by my side as I bury the closest thing I have to a father now. That is what should matter. Not what I did. What I know you would have done for some people. What you'd have done for Phoenix alone. I'm here in our kitchen wearing my engagement ring and you're just wearing my shirt and not sobbing into it because it's the closest thing that smells like me. Let it go." He takes a moment to take a shaky breath and starts to move toward you. "I made a mistake but I don't regret it. Let. It. Go."



If you were younger, if you were the same girl Rooster met all those years ago you'd have taken your ring off and slammed it on the counter right next to his coffee cup in a fit of anger. You're older now, same as Bradley and you stop yourself even as your hand inches toward your ring finger. Bradley's always been taller than you unless you're in heels and it forces you to look up at him. "You forget who you're wanting to marry, Bradshaw. I'm— I'm not letting this go. Just— you know what, sleep on the couch, do whatever. I don't care— you're not sleeping in our bed. Especially if you want to act like I meant to say what I said in the first place. You want to ignore me? Fine. Then do that."



You see Bradley's jaw tense, and watch the way it moves as you normally would enjoy before he speaks. "Wasn't planning on sleeping there for a while anyway. Enjoy your coffee, Y/N."

Ever since you had started dating, you and Bradley had talked every single day. No matter the fight, no matter what happened between you two you would never let something like this drag on for so long. Life was short after all and you two were both vividly aware of that.



This time though, this time it drags on for two weeks and you have a half right mind to stand in front of Bradley until he talks until you realize from how even Phoenix looks at you while at the Hard Deck that it wouldn't help. It truthfully might make things worse. So you let him stew and he lets you stew. You miss him and you like to think he misses you but you're both very stubborn people who know how to hold grudges with the best of them.



It's strange, ignoring someone you love in your own house but sometimes you'd like to argue that you and Bradley are strange people. Normal most of the time but with those small little scars inside and out that make you do strange things. Strange things like make sure your dress whites are ready to go the day of what you think is a ceremony— honestly you hadn't paid attention for once to the notice. That's what you do with someone you love and someone you care about— not someone you're still so angry with that it hurts to talk to them.



You arrive separately to questioning looks from most of the Dagger Squad and Maverick but you both shrug and smile them off even as you stay apart most of the night. What you both don't realize is that the other is sneaking glances when one of you looks away. Your eyes take in the man who you think— you hope— is still going to be your future husband and bemoan the fact that he can't wear this uniform everywhere. There's something special about seeing him all dressed in white and looking every bit a dashing naval aviator.



His eyes? Oh, his eyes take in the woman he knows he's still going to marry if one of you would just break already. They take in you in white which you hate wearing because it shows off everything and stains and all those silly things you say. They take in how your jacket contains your chest but how the buttons strain just a little and how he knows that you're probably wearing a lace bra that he loves underneath it. He knows how that bra feels against his hands when he cups your breasts and squeezes them in his hands. Your chest is a work of art sometimes— all the time really and he hasn't touched in over two weeks.



Jake is the one who notices how Bradley's eyes haven't left you for a few minutes and notices how he's shifting in place— fidgeting in a way he's never seen him.



"She's been staring at you too," the blonde chuckles. "This is— This is every bad high school dance and military ball I've ever been to rolled into one. Go over to her, Rooster. Stop pining, man."



Bradley wants to defend himself but he turns to look at you again only to catch your eyes and how they slide down his body before stopping at his crotch and— he finds most logic and sense goes out the window. Like two magnets drawn to one another you both find yourselves by each other's sides, with hands grazing each other's hips.



"I—" He starts before you shake your head.



"I was being cruel. You've— We both know I get like that and I was terrified, Bradley. I saw our lives flashing before my eyes the second I found. It was gone in an instant. That doesn't excuse—" Your words are cut off with a soft kiss that you're both endlessly thankful no one sees.



"Babe. Trust me, I know I was an idiot and that same vision you had? Yeah, you weren't the only one. I swear I heard my mom and my dad yelling at me." His words are soft as he nuzzles his nose against yours, laughing softly when you scrunch up your nose because of his mustache. "I'm sorry."



You sniffle a little, partially to prevent a sneeze from his mustache hair and to cover up the fact that you're a little emotional. "I'm sorry too." You take a moment to look up meet his eyes only to see how his eyes are trained on your breasts. "Lieutenant Bradshaw, are you staring at my boobs in public? At a function?"



You watch as a light dusting of color reaches his cheeks before he bites his lips. "And if I am?"



A breath leaves your mouth slowly as you move the hand that's been on his hip toward the front of his dress pants, giggling softly at the slight hardness you feel. "I'd say you should stop unless you want me to take care of this in the bathroom."



His eyes dart around the room checking to see if anyone will notice you're both gone for a bit before he laughs. "Meet you there in five?"



You practically give yourself minor whiplash as you nod quickly. "Can I keep the bra on?"



His groan almost gives the two of you and your plans away.

The great thing, you think, about this bra, is that it makes it so easy to have Bradley stick his cock in between your breasts without taking it off. You know by the end he'll want it off, want to squeeze your breasts as he slides his cock in between them but in the beginning he's fine with this.



"I missed my girls," he groans as you press your arms against the side of your chest, pushing your breasts together even more. "Should— Should've gotten over myself and fucked you in my shirt that morning."



"You would have gotten come on your favorite Hawaiian shirt, Bradley," you try to reason with him even as your voice takes on an airy sort of quality the quicker your fingers move in between your legs. You should have taken off your pants but you realize it's a little too late for that now.



"We're probably getting come on our dress whites, babe." It's a joke but one that's likely very true from the way you can see his cock pulse and from the way your fingers— even through the articles of clothing you're wearing sound so obscene as they squelch and slide between your folds. "Would've made it better. Fuck, swear this bra does something to your tits."



"It's a bra? A dressy one? That's the point?" You can't help but giggle as he moves faster, his cock gilding against the soft skin of your breasts. "You getting close baby?"



"Lil bit," he grunts out, his hand moving to try and grasp at one of your nipples. "You wanna free them? Let your nipples join in on the fun?"



"You just wanna smear them with precome, Bradshaw, you're not slick." It's not a no, and your hands move to start undoing your bra even as you look up and see Bradley with the dumbest smirk you've ever seen him have. "Why are you—"



"You're slick though," he pulls his cock out from between your breasts and bends down to kiss you as your bra releases your breasts. "Bad—"



"Bad dirty dad joke," you cut him off with a fond shake of your head. "At least wait until we have a little birdy before you stoop that low."



A shrug is the only answer you get as he lines his cock up with your breasts and waits for you to press them together before saying a single phrase. "Sorry. It's in my blood."



You look up at him through your eyelashes and sigh, ignoring how your heart twists a little at the faked twinkle in those brown eyes of his. Instead you bend your head down just a little to lick a small kitten lick at the head of his cock. "Doomed to those jokes for the rest of my life as Mrs. Bradshaw. What have I done?"



A shudder ripples through him at your lick and he has to force himself to not come right then and there all over your perfectly made up face. He wants to though, wants to see you debauched like you should have been the second he came home and was alive and in your arms. He should have painted your face white. Should have made it so there was a stain on his favorite shirt that he'd wear proudly because it'd tell everyone how needy you two were for each other. It'd remind everyone that he's taken by the most vicious, intelligent, and vivacious woman he's ever met. It'd remind him that you missed him that much that you couldn't bear to be apart from some part of him for too long.



He didn't though and he can't right now but tonight when you're home and laying across your shared bed maybe he can do it then and watch as your lips try and lick bits off your face. The image he paints in his mind is something else and it has him clenching the fabric of your jacket before his own hands move to play with the tops of your breasts. The action earns a low whine from you, wanting more of his large hands on you, his thumbs playing with your nipples as he kisses you. You two have to make this quick though and it shows in how Bradley's thrusts increase in speed and how he motions for you to do something— anything— with your boobs and your hands until you finally catch onto his meaning.



"You are so boob drunk, Bradley," you mutter as your hand wraps around the part of his cock not between your breasts. With every thrust up you manage a lick or two just to tease him until you see his thrusts getting messier and less controlled.



A breathless low chuckle leaves him. "Nah, just you drunk. Fuck, babe, Y/N. I'm— let him go. Gonna—"



"Cum on them. Just cum on them. I'll wipe it off."



You look up with all the confidence in the world to see him with blown out pupils and a wet lips from where he's bitten them to keep quiet. "You su—" You cut him off with an almost violent nod that has the head of his cock brushing your chin as he does. "Okay okay."



What happens next is a flurry of limbs and grunts and low whines from you and Bradley as you chase your respective highs. Bradley comes first, hips stuttering, painting your chest with his cum, pearly white and just uncontrolled enough that some lands on your lips and chin and another bit lands on your dress shirt, narrowly avoiding your jacket. Your name falls from his lips easily as you look up at him, your fingers curling just so inside of you as he reaches out to cup your cheek his brown eyes so full of love, arousal and adoration that you come with a silent cry, your body threatening to fall forward from the sheer intensity but his strong hands are there to stop you.



You both lean back— him against the wall and you on your knees- catching your breath before he moves to grab paper towels, wetting them just enough for you to clean his release off of you. He embarrassingly lets out something close to a childish whine as he watches you lick the traces of come off your lips until you raise an eyebrow at him and his hardening cock.



"When we get home." You both manage to say at the same time before letting out matching peals of laughter. After a moment where you both can't keep a straight face Bradley starts to tuck himself inside his dress pants and you start to button your shirt back up before he pulls you up with an ease that marvels you even to this day. You feel the warmth of his large hand through your shirt as he straightens it out, making sure it's regulation ready. He winces at the slight stain of his come near your shoulder before remembering you still have to get your jacket on. His hands make quick work of the buttons and he notes with pride the only sliver of come one can see is easily explained away as water.



You can't help but bite your lip at Bradley when you see him looking down at you, inspecting his handiwork. Almost as if he realizes you're staring he meets your eyes and smiles this stupid half smile that makes his mustache look far cuter than it has any right to be and has his eyes dancing with mirth.



"Come on Lieutenant Bradshaw, they're gonna notice if we stay here," he tries to school his face into something resembling a serious look before he chuckles softly.



"Aye aye, Lieutenant Bradshaw." A pause. "You can't call me by your last name yet, you know."



He shrugs, unlocking the door as he wraps his arm around your waist. "I almost died. I can do it if I want. Besides, saw your thighs tense up."



You tamp down on the urge to slap his arm playfully as your own arm moves to snake around his waist. "You're lucky I love you."



"Yeah,' he stops right before you reach the door to reenter the hall and presses you just lightly against the wall. "I love you too."

[lanareadsbooks]

I’m confused about us?

Inspired by this mood board I made 🩷

This is basically just ooc Billy and literally doesn’t fit into the show’s storyline at all but I love me a good cowboy so I had to write about him.

Tags: Dom!Billy Sub!Reader punishments are given, spanking, smut, oral (m) lemme know if I missed any!

It’s 18 something (?? I have no clue when the show is set in) and you’re 19 when your parents decide drop you off with a man you barely know. William H Booney. They said “he’s a the son of some good friends of ours and they said he’ll straighten you right out” I don’t need straightening. You think. Geez you steel one truck and a bottle of liquor and suddenly everyone thinks your a problem. When you were first introduced you thought “hey maybe this won’t be so bad” You. Were. Wrong. Within the first 30 minutes your parents had left you, you couldn’t stand him. He came and sat down in front of your spot on his couch, Ok listen here little girl. He said, You frowned. Little girl? You thought. These are my rules. Follow them and you and me will be just fine. He smiled. No.1 please don’t steal no trucks or anything I have enough trouble with the neighbors around here I don’t need you making that worse for me. 2 Dont back talk me. There is nothing I hate more than an undisciplined girl. Your frown deeper. Though.. I guess that’s why your here isn’t it? He laughed like it was funny. You scoffed. No I’m here because my parents expect me to stay home and clean or embroider. You laugh, And that’s not something I can do every day. Oh? Speaking of that. You’re not gonna be goin out for the first two weeks. WHAT?! You said shocked. Yes mam I think it’s exactly what you need. He said patting your thigh. I need to not go outside? You asked rudely. No you need to realize you only get what given to you. Now I want you to understand if you break any of my rules you gon be goin over my knee that minute young lady. You understand? He asked. You turned red, w-what? You said hoping you misheard him. Yes mam I don’t know about y’all city people but right here when you misbehave you don’t like what happens to ya. N-no you don’t understand, my parents would never let a strange man do that to me. S-so call my daddy and he’ll tell you you’re not allowed to do that to me. You said almost confidently. Sorry sweetheart your folks were real clear I should do whatever need be to make you behave. Tears came to your eyes, but as long as you’re good you’ll be fine. You can do that right? You said to yourself.

No. No you can not.

Less than 24 hours later you found yourself over his lap, it happened because you saw some boys going on a trail ride through the window, you saw one of them had a flask. You thought how bad do I need that, you had been up since 5am thinking about Billy, how blue his eyes were how commanding his voice was (how good he’d fuck you) but that he’d probably never want you. He apparently he saw you as a little girl. Ugh I don’t like older men anyway (wrongg) you thought. As you tried to quietly sneak down the stairs and out the front door. You saw it was locked with a padlock. Shit you thought. Your eyes darted to the window. You smirked, I don’t know what he was thinking I can fit out of these windows easy. As you were lifting the window up all you saw was two hands towing over you and pushing the window back down. Your heart almost stopped. He leaned down to your ear and said. Now what do you think you’re doing little girl? He asked darkly. Uhhhh. before you could come up with an answer. He had picked you up and put you over his shoulder. You squeaked Ah! You yelled. Put me down!- he did in fact put you down… just over his lap. No! You yelled. Oh hush. No need for a tantrum now. I’m not having a tantrum! I’m a grown woman and you can’t do this t- you were cut off by him putting his hand over your mouth. You tried to wiggle your way out but he easily lifted up your skirt. And you felt a warm hand on your bottom. His hand rose, and fell quickly, alternating cheeks. If there was anyone else in the house they would have definitely heard the loud smacks! Billy was giving you. And your muffled cursing. After about 4 minutes of him doing this you were about to cry. You tried to get away but to no avail. He easily pulled you back to position and gave you two extra hard slaps. And kept going. He finished soon after you started crying. Your bottom stung. Nobody had ever done this to you before. It didn’t hurt that bad but the humiliation hurt He brought you back up and sat you on his lap, you quickly adverted your eyes down as to not make eye contact. But he harshly grabbed your face smooshing your cheeks together, listen, he said dominantly like he was scolding a child. This or worse is gon happen every time you disobey me , you let out a light sob just thinking about it. So I’ll let you decide whether or not you want this kind of stuff to keep happening.

No I really do not you thought.

It was two days later when you ended up in this position again. Billy had jokingly bought you an embroidery kit. And you had not so jokingly told him to fuck off. So he threatened to wash your mouth out with soap… what ? You said. I said you better watch your tongue or I’m gon have to wash your mouth out. He said dominantly. You suddenly felt very wet.. and figured what’s the worst that could happen? There are other things of yours I’d like in my mouth more sir. You said in a lustful tone, while looking up at him from your spot on the bed. Literally two seconds later he was unzipping his pants, he used your mouth roughly holding your hair in a ponytail. After he had came in your mouth and regained himself. You stood up and grabbed his shoulders, pressing yourself against him your body asking him for more- huh? You thought as he quickly sat and pulled you down and back over his knee. W-wait Billy- you tried to protest as he cut he off. Hush. Was all you heard before your skirt was lifted and smacks rained down on your poor bottom. “Luckily” for you it was a lighter one than your first but you were still confused. He was spanking you like a disobedient child. Not like a woman that had just sucked him off. “I’m confused about us” you thought.

This is it for today I’m totally planning on making this a series so request anything that would make sense in the story line once I get a few I’ll write part two so the more yall request the faster I’ll write. Also if you guys want to make any mood boards more this id love it! Also my request have been a bit wonky lately so if it doesn’t seem to be working just dm me please! Thanks for reading!

[biibini]

Hii!! After mizu graduates college, what type of job do you think she'd have? Would it have to do with sports or maybe something way different? (I absolutely love your writing and headcanons !! 🩷🩷)

modern!mizu post-college life headcanons

tags: post-grad life, engineering mizu, stable work life, a woman in stem, moving in with reader, basketball with mizu, mizu join fencing club, peaceful post-grad life (the dream)

a/n: ngl the thought of post-college life is tripping me out,,, im a junior in college rn and the thought of it just kinda doesnt?? exist?? also ive heard too much info from my friends' rants ab their engineering degrees and switching majors from mechanic to electrical back to mechanical engineering,, theyre fucking nuts

modern!mizu would prob be in the engineering sector of jobs

wooo stem baby (i am a digital marketing major i should not be talking)

bc hello?? money???

also let’s use that mechanical engineering degree to good use

she didn’t leave home for nothing

with her technical skills from eiji

modern!mizu would probably be a CAD engineer

CAD aka computer aided design

technically speaking, it would allow her to work from home or hybrid

and she can easily transfer her mechanical and on-hand knowledge to a digital format

like she’s smart yall

she just got some troubles w procrastination

but dont we all?

(coping so hard)

this job would also allow her free time and flexible hours to do her job

and i feel like modern!mizu opts for a good work-life balance

if she wishes, she can take the day off snd just go out with u or go to the gym

the freedom of choice while staying comfortable at home?

sign her tf up

she can have her tea time, gym time, spending time w u time, and her self care time

the self care in question: enjoying the silence

and realistically, its a well paying job thatll keep her and u afloat while helping eiji financially if need be

modern!mizu hopes her work and smarts can help her provide for others and herself

its ab time she doesnt let herself depend on a man for money

yeah thats a fuck u to u, m*k*o

shes made the mistake once

shes not gonna make it again

just bc postgrad modern!mizu isnt in sports doesnt mean she’ll stop playing

she needs to get her exercise and movement some way some form

basketball with taigen

and always aim for the three-pointers

and is successful most of the time

and then proceed to aim for the half court shots

and fail most times

fencing with eiji whenever shes back home

she’ll def try to teach u

and its fun at first but

she wants to stretch her wings out

modern!mizu would prob join a fencing club

it would be a great for her to fully practice and spar

not just against her old man

or go soft w u

but also go against ppl her age

modern!mizu would move into a place w u

nothing grand but a small apartment where u could refresh and build the place to be ur own

ringo is a good friend

a true best friend she could trust

but it was time to move in w u

and not be wary of ringo hearing u when he comes home

modern!mizu would be more adventurous in hobbies

yeah she has basketball and fencing and her tea collection

but now she has a stable job

no need to worry about grades

and just to live life one step at a time

she would probably try out pottery with u

definitely practice her cooking with ringo's and ur help

all in all, a very patient life

(she deserves it)

[grimoireofhayley]

Of Friends and Horror

Stu Macher x Fem!Reader x Billy Loomis

WARNINGS: Graphic content, eventual Smut (MINORS DNI), Language, Talks of SA (rape), Cheating, Obsessiveness, Gore, 18+ content, Stalking, Jealousy, Angst, Possessiveness, (let me know if there’s more that needs to be added!)

Word Count: 1.02k

Tag List: @ev3ningrain @nerdytif @m-the-little-witch

A/N: Ah, I hope y’all feel lucky. Two chapters in one day! I hope you enjoy this one as much as I enjoyed writing it. I hope I captured Randy, Billy, and Stu’s personality correctly. Thank you so much for reading! I’m hoping I’d get an update out tomorrow, but if not, it should be up later on this week at some point so keep an eye open. I also wrote this on my iPad, so I apologize if there’s any grammatical errors. I’ll proofread again tomorrow and put out an updated version. Oh, again, if you wanna be added to the tag list, just comment down below. Thank you :)

All chapter links! 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

OF&H Masterlist

Chapter 3

“Remember, your principal loves you, and I want you to be safe. All students are encouraged to return to their homes promptly from school grounds…” The principal spoke over the PA, “Avoid strangers, walk in twos and threes—“

You pinched the bridge of your nose, visibly stressed from all the questioning. You haven’t a clue why you were so upset about everything, you weren’t the killer, but for some reason it felt like you were. Maybe you should’ve lied? Twisted the story a bit so you didn’t reveal you were a mistress at some point in your life.

“I am a slut..” You mumbled, dragging your fingers down your face, causing your eyes to droop. “Now Brooke is definitely going to find out, how am I to confront her on that?” You asked no one in particular.

You stared at the vibrant blue sky, squinting when the sun flashed your eyes. “Have mercy on me, please?” You begged the man upstairs, not expecting an answer in return.

“What kind of questions did they ask you, Sid?” You heard Tatum’s voice in the distance.

You blew a raspberry, putting your brave face on and sauntered over to your friend group at the fountain.

“They asked if I knew Casey…” Sidney’s voice soon followed.

“Hi, guys!” You chirped, sitting in front of Stu, Billy, Tatum and Sidney, unintentionally stopping their conversation.

“Hello, Sweetcheeks!” Stu blurted, eyes glazing over you, a small smirk planted on his lips. “What took you so long?” He groaned, “It’s always so boring when you aren’t here!” He frowned, tossing his head back.

“Gee, thanks Stu..” Tatum snipped, causing you to giggle.

You looked over to Billy, seeing Sidney leaning against his legs, your face contorting in disgust as jealousy was creeping up on you. You mentally slapped yourself, looking away and back at Stu.

“Uh, they had me stay longer for questioning…” You admitted, leaning back against your bag, stretching out your legs.

“Huh? Why?” Billy asked, curiously.

“Yeah, why’s that?” Sidney mumbled.

You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat.

“Just reasons, I guess.”

“Speaking of questioning, did they ask if you like to hunt?” Stu looked at Billy and Randy who seemed to have shown up out of nowhere.

“Yeah, they did. Did they ask you?” Billy answered and probed, Randy nodded in agreement.

“Hunt? Why would they ask you if you liked to hunt?” Tatum voiced.

“Because their bodies were gutted.” Randy spoke up, shoving a peanut in his mouth.

“They didn’t ask me if I liked to hunt…” both Sidney and Tatum declared.

Stu looked around, but his eyes always seemed to land on you, which caused you to blush, and chew on your fingernail.

“‘Cause there’s no way a girl could’ve killed ‘em..” Stu laughed.

“That’s bullshit. The killer could easily be female, basic instinct.”

“That was an ice pick. Not exactly the same thing…” Randy butted in.

“Yeah, Casey and Steve were completely hollowed out. And the fact is, it takes a man to do something like that.” Stu grinned, still staring at you without realizing it.

You leaned in, placing your chin on the palm of your hand. “Really now? If that’s so, then why did they ask me if I liked to hunt, Stu?” You smirked, catching all of them off guard. “Like Tatum said, the killer could easily be a girl. Though, with how they were killed it was clearly a man. They’re all the same, messy. They like to play with their prey. A woman on the other hand, knows how to get things done, swiftly and cleanly. Why do you think they don’t get caught as easily?” You finished your statement. Drumming your fingers across your lap in triumph.

“That was— I was not expecting that.” Stu laughed loudly, bewilderment lingering around him like an aroma of some sorts. Billy was just as shocked, but more amused.

However, Sidney wasn’t having it. “How… How do you gut someone?” She asked.

“You take a knife—“ Stu started and Billy looked up from his lunch. “And you slit ‘em from the groin to the sternum..”

“Hey.” Billy cut Stu off, glaring at him. “It’s called tact, you fuckrag.”

You sighed, shaking your head.

“Hey, (Y/n)..” Sidney asked, ignoring Billy and Stu’s former conversation.

Your ears perked and you looked at her confused.

“Didn’t you used to date Steve Orth?”

‘Now how in the fuck could she have possibly known that…’ You thought, your ears turning red from anger and you clenched your fist.

“Yeah, for like a couple of months..”

“Hold up, did I miss a chapter or something? When the hell did you date him?” Billy asked, looking somewhat pissed.

“Uh, yeah, I have to agree with Billy here.. when the hell did that happen?” Tatum’s eyes widened, she felt betrayed.

“Jesus, guys, it was only a couple of months, I don’t even know how Sidney found out.” You started, shooting Sidney a glare.

“Can we change the subject, please?”

“Did you sleep with him?” Stu mumbled, starting to get irritated as well.

“All of you, please just shut up. It is not a big deal.” You demanded.

“Are the police aware that you dated the victim?” Randy asked, ignoring your pleas.

“Hey, what are you saying? That I killed both Casey and Steve?” Your mouth gaped at the accusation.

“It just makes sense, ex-girlfriend not over the relationship, gets jealous seeing her lover with someone else… You know, the scorned ex who kills for revenge!” Randy shouted, earning a few stares in the process from passersby’s.

“(Y/n) was with me last night, okay?” Billy spoke, winking at you from behind Sidney.

“Yeah, I was…” You stated, catching Sidney’s eyes darting your way.

“Was that before or after you sliced them up?”

“Hold on, you went to (Y/n)‘s after you came by my place? You said you were going to Stu’s!” Sidney flared her nostrils, anger bubbling to the surface.

“Oh, brother…” You whispered, face-palming. Seeing Sidney hurriedly packing up her things, she didn’t give neither you or Billy time to explain...

<- Previous Next ->

[holdmytesseract]

It's Okay To Be Scared [EoH]

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader feat. Teddy Dixon

Summary: A 'slumber party' ends in a distaster for you and your son. Can Daryl save you two?

Warnings: usual twd stuff, walkers, weapons, angst, panic? fluff! Daryl being an amazing dad, age gap

Set in Season 4!

Word Count: 2,5k

a/n: Here we go! 😄 This just randomly popped up in my head, when I watched this scene (I think you'll know which scene I mean.). I had to write it, hehe. ☺️ Also, Teddy's the cutest. I love him. 😍

Divider by my lovely friend @fictive-sl0th <3

Tagging: @km-ffluv @stitchintimefan @sweetpeapod @loz-3 @peaches1958 @fictive-sl0th @lou12346789 @bookofsecretjourneys @azanoni @fuseburner @hotgirlsshareaccounts @in-this-minute

Masterlist

"Mommy?" You turned your head at the sound of your five-year-old son's quiet, hesitant voice urging to your ears. "Hey, bud, what's up?" You smiled at the young boy, squatting down to be on an eye-level with him. The bright sun of Georgia shone through the barred windows of the C-Block, dipping the grey hallway in a soft yellow light. The sunrays got caught in the little boy's brown curls, causing them to shimmer. He may have inherited Daryl's hair colour, but not his actual hair. The kid definitely had your soft curls. Your eyes scanned your son's face and body. From his blue-grey eyes, which resembled his father's, over his little snub nose and rosy cheeks, all the way down his slightly too big clothes. His black t-shirt fitted him perfectly, but the jeans vest was definitely too big, just like his tattered and ripped jeans. You had to smile. He looked so much like his dad. Speaking of... "Where did you leave your daddy, huh? I thought you wanted to help him outside, checking the fences?" You wouldn't have let him join his dad, if you weren't aware that the boy was in the safest hands possible. He nodded, but looked at you with a sad and angsty expression. "Y-Yes, but... There were so many m-monsters, I-I got scared." Your expression softened, before you pulled the boy into a hug, "Oh baby..." and kissed his head.

It hadn't been easy for Teddy to understand, that the world was suddenly different now. Dangerous. Scary. He had been still a toddler when the world went to shit, but that didn't make it easier to explain. Why there was so much blood and death. Why there were suddenly scary looking people, who wanted to literally eat him. You and Daryl had a hard time adjusting Teddy to all of this. He had already seen so much. Things a kid should never see, but you couldn't change it. It wasn't in your hands. You never wanted this life for him, but it was how it was now.

Teddy looked up to his dad, of course, saw how Daryl helped the group, got food on the table and so on. His dad was his hero, without a doubt - and he wanted to be just like him. Be just as brave and fearless. The problem? Teddy was, after all still a child - and got scared very easily. Something he inherited from you. You were just the same, especially as a child and quite often even today. Some might say Teddy was a bit all bark and no bite - what you thought was quite cute. It was okay for him to be a child. He had to grow up into a man soon enough...

"You know that it's okay to be scared, yes? Always remember that, because being scared helps us sometimes. It's important." Teddy cuddled closer against your chest, both little arms wrapped tightly around you. "I-I know, but daddy's never scared..." You backed up from the hug, shaking your head. "Oh he is, Teddy. He's very good at hiding it." You said, running your hand through his long hair. It reached almost his shoulders by now. You could've cut it, of course, but Teddy looked way too sweet with longer hair. The boy nodded, although visibly not entirely convinced by your words and shuffled his feet nervously. "What was it you wanted to ask me, sweetie?" You decided to change the topic, distracting your son's mind from the walkers. It seemed to do the trick. Teddy smiled softly. "Can I stay at Nick's cell tonight?" Nick - one of the Woodbury kids and now Teddy's best friend. "Of course, bud. Does Nick's mama know?" Again, the boy nodded. "Uh.Huh... Nick said he's goin' to tell her." "Perfect." You smiled at him and stood up again. "Now go out play, while the sun's still out. I saw Patrick and Carl playing soccer outside. Maybe you can join, huh?" Teddy nodded, but tugged nervously on the red bandana around his neck, which his daddy had gifted him. There was something else occupying his mind. You could tell. "Is there something else, sweetie?" Once more he nodded, blue-grey eyes meeting yours again. "Can you, uh, stay with me tonight, mommy?" "At Nick's?" "Uh.Huh..." You smiled softly, tucking a few wild curls behind his ear. "I thought you are such a big boy already?" "Y-Yes, but... Please mommy..." Teddy looked at you with big, pleading eyes - and suddenly, you had a guess. "Are you having nightmares again?" The little boy nodded, grimacing, in order to suppress his tears. He tried so hard to be strong. "Oh no, I'm so sorry. Come here, baby." You opened your arms for Teddy again. An offer he took gladly. You lifted him up in your arms, not caring that he got pretty heavy for you to lift meanwhile. A few silent tears wetted your t-shirt. Teddy was plagued by nightmares almost regularly. He always had a hard time sleeping peacefully, but since the death took over the world, it became even harder for him - which was understandably. And whenever he woke up at night, afraid and crying from another nightmare, the only way to help Teddy was his dad. When Daryl wasn't here, you tried to help your son as well, but nobody was as helpful as his daddy.

"I'm coming with you tonight, okay?" Another nod. Teddy wasn't a child of many words - just like another important man in your life was. His small tear-stained cheeks glistened in the sun, causing your heart to ache. You knew exactly what you had to do now. "C'mon." You adjusted him on your arms, before you left the C-Block and made your way through the corridors out on the yard, eyes searching for your husband. Luckily, you found him pretty quick. He was preparing for the run he was about to go on, with Sasha, Glenn, Tyreese, Bob, Zack and Michonne. Daryl saw you approaching him, of course and was immediately alerted, since you were carrying Teddy. He wiped his dirty hands on a rug, stood up and met you on your way. "Hey, babe." Daryl looked at you and his boy, concerned. "Wha' happened?" "Nightmares," you mouthed, which was enough information for Daryl. He didn't need to know more. He placed a hand on the boy's back. "Hey, buddy, c'mere." Teddy didn't let himself tell that twice, unlocked his arms from around your neck and wrapped them around his father's, clinging to him for dear life. You gave Daryl a sorrow look, causing him to lean over to you and place a quick kiss on your cheek, "I got it." before he turned around and walked away with Teddy in his arms. Guess the run had to wait...

"Alright, baby, I'm going now, okay?" Daryl nodded from where he laid in the bed of the cell your small family shared, hands crossed behind his head. "Ya really wanna leave me alone tonight?" He almost pouted, causing you to giggle softly. Teddy wasn't your only child sometimes. "You know that Teddy asked me to, but you can join if you want." He scoffed at your words. "Nah, wouldn't wanna interrupt your girl's night." You giggled again and stepped over to him, in order to kiss him. "Love you." "Love ya, too." "Sleep tight, see you tomorrow." Daryl nodded, pulling you in for another kiss. "See ya." You grabbed your things, blew him a kiss and left the cell, tiptoeing down the dark corridors to cell block D. Little did you know, that staying with Teddy that night in the D-block was going to end in a disaster. A deathly disaster.

That night, you slept way too tight, to hear the soft snarling and growling of the polite and kind young man Patrick had once been, nor the heavy, slurping footsteps which passed the empty cell you were sleeping in, right beside the cell Teddy was sleeping in with Nick and Anne - his mom. You were completely exposed to the threat, lurking in the shadows of the night - but you didn't know it. Nobody knew it.

Daryl had been up quite early that day, just like Rick and Carl. He had just slipped into his beige shirt with the torn off sleeves, as he heard a loud noise ringing through the corridors, causing everyone which was still asleep to wake up - without a doubt. He furrowed his brows. It sounded like a... gunshot! Without hesitation, the archer grabbed his crossbow and stormed out of the cell, just like several others. Carol for example. "What was that?!" "Sounded like a gunshot." "Where from?!" Just after the words had left Carol's mouth, another gunshot was echoing through the walls. The answer of Carol's question was quickly answered, causing the man's eyes to widen and heart to run a hundred miles per hour. The D-Block. It came, without a doubt from the D-Block. "It comes from the D-Block." Daryl breathed out, before he started to run like a mad man, straight towards the block; Carol following him.

The scene he walked into wasn't one he hadn't seen before and yet it scared the shit out of him, because he knew that his wife and son were somewhere in the middle of it... There was blood everywhere. Dead and bitten men and women laid on the floor. The still living people ran around in panic, trying to flee from the walkers, which were trying to get another bite out of the people. There were screams and cries everywhere. "Shit!" The archer cursed, his mind immediately wandering to you and Teddy. He desperately hoped that the both of you were alright. Without wasting another second, he threw himself into the fray, killing every walker on his way. "Teddy! Y/N!" He screamed out, eyes frantically scanning his surroundings. It wasn't easy to overlook this chaos. "Daryl!" He heard Rick shouting at him. "I got it!" Signalling him, that he had the door situation under control. Not that Daryl cared about this in that moment. All he cared about was you and his son. Nevertheless, he gave Rick a short, hasty nod, before he continued his search.

"Teddy! Y/N!" He screamed from the top of his lungs through the loud noise. "Daddy!" Daryl heard a child scream out - his child. He would recognise Teddy's voice everywhere. "Teddy!" He yelled again, looking around to find him and point out where the voice was coming from. To his sheer luck he found him - just in time. The boy sat on the ground, crouched into a corner, crying, with a walker stumbling straight into his direction. Daryl's eyes widened in shock, but nevertheless he reacted fast, ran over and rammed his knife in the back of the walker's head, carelessly throwing the dead body aside. "Teddy!" The archer fell to his knees in front of his son, pulling his small, trembling body immediately close to his. "Are you okay?!" Daryl's eyes scanned Teddy's body for any bites or injuries. The small boy nodded, yes, and clung to his father, still crying. Daryl held him close to his body with his free arm, standing up again. "Teddy, where's your momma?!" "I-I dunno." Cried Teddy. Once again, Daryl looked around frantically, still not able to find you - but he found Carol. "Carol!" His best friend turned to face him. "Can ya take Teddy somewhere safe? I-I gotta find Y/N!" Carol nodded, of course, took the boy immediately in her arms. "You go with aunt Carol, okay? I'll go, find momma." Teddy cried even more, but let himself got carried out of danger from Carol. It broke Daryl's heart to leave his son like that, but he had to find you. "Y/N!" He ran to check the cells, killing another walker on his way. Remembering, that Nick's and Anne's cell was on the second floor, he was quick to run up the stairs, checking the upper cells as well. "Y/N!" "Daryl?!" He heard your voice calling out immediately, causing relief to wash over him. You were alive. He found you locked up in a cell, with a dead walker to your feet and another one in front of the barred door, trying to get its filthy hands on you. Daryl was quick to get disposed of the walker and opening the cell door with shaky hands. "Daryl!" You cried out, running into his arms. You were utterly rattled, covered in blood. "You okay, sunshine?!" Daryl asked you, strong arms keeping you close to his body. "Y-Yes, b-but I lost Teddy. I-I don't know where he is!" You cried, sobbing into your husband's shirt. "W-What if he's dead! Oh g-gods!" You felt how your knees gave in, but Daryl caught you. He immediately shook his head, trying to comfort you. "Hey, hey, hey, Y/N, stay with me, 's alright. I found him. He's alright. He's with Carol." "O-Our baby's o-okay?" "Yes, sunshine. He's safe. Teddy's safe." "O-Oh thank g-god... I-I was so afraid of him, b-but I couldn't leave to search for him. T-This walker had me trapped a-and- oh gods..." "Shh, shhh, it's okay, 'm here." Daryl's calming voice urged to your ears, despite the loud noise. "We gotta get you outta here." He said, before hoisting you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style down the corridor, the stair and past Rick. "You got this?!" Rick nodded. Glenn had joined the chaos as well in the meantime. "We got it! Look after your family!" Daryl gave Rick a thankful nod, before he left the horrendous scene and took you back to the C-Block.

The archer laid you down on the bed in your shared cell, before he called out for his friend. "Carol?" No minute later, she approached with a still shaking Teddy in her arms. "Did you find her?" Daryl nodded, taking Teddy back in his arms. "Thank god. She alright?" "Yeah, jus' quite rattled." Carol nodded in understanding. "I'll go, take care of the other survivors." "Thanks." "No need to thank me," she said, giving Daryl a small smile, before she left.

"Daddy... Where's mommy?" His son asked, voice trembling. "She's here, buddy. She's okay. We are all okay, alright? Everything's goin' ta be fine." His words seemed to calm down the boy a bit, but not as much as being back in his mother's embrace. Daryl stayed with you and Teddy for a long while, even after the boy had passed out from all the exhaustion, sleeping tightly. Hopefully without having nightmares...

Now Daryl sat behind you on the bed, while you leaned against his chest, hands intertwined. "What happened?" The archer asked in a quiet voice, eyes trained on the sleeping Teddy. You shrugged your shoulders. "I don't know, honestly. I was sleeping and suddenly I heard those screams. I got up quickly, looked outside - and there were walkers everywhere. People we knew, suddenly turned. Then everything became chaotic. I tried to react and look for Teddy, but then there were those two walkers..." You said, shaking your head at the vivid memory. "Do you know what happened? What caused this? Did Rick say something?" "Not yet, but we're gonna find out."

[gremlin-girly]

Kinktober 21

Kink: Body Worship

Sweet Thing

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x F!curvy!reader

Warnings/tags: SMUT, insecurities, talk of weight/stretch marks/body rolls (all beautiful and sexy might I add), crying (not during sex!!), use of pet names (pumpkin, sweetness, goddess, baby, princess, sugar plum - i tried catching all of them lmao), breast/nipple play, oral (f recieving), squirting, thigh fucking (brief), mentions of tit fucking, p-in-v (unprotected - wrap it before you tap it!), slight tummy bulge, creampie, hint of possessiveness (it's Lloyd), allusions to punishment :)

Not beta'd and that's a warning. I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, translated or copied. And as always, MDNI!

Summary: Feeling a little self-conscious, your boyfriend decides to show you just how much he loves your body.

Word count: 2k

A/N: Hello! I know it is slightly out of character for Lloyd but I thought to heck with it - let's have a little sugar to go with all this spice and all things nice. Originally, my plan was for a beefy/chubby Bucky but I'm saving it to post on another day because as I was writing I found myself wanting to do it justice. I am slowly crawling out of my 100+ drafts .... emphasis on slowly. Enjoy! - Love, Grem x

Dividers by: @/cafekitsune

Prev | Next | Masterlist

You're looking in the mirror, stood in your underwear. You thought putting something nice would cheer you up but you just feel worse.

You grab at the soft flesh hanging over your pubic bone. What had someone called it? Fupa? Was it as attractive as people said? Because, right now, the only words you could remember were tyre, spare, top and muffin; and not necessarily in that order.

You huff, and turn to the side, your eyes narrowing as you catch sight of chubby biceps that you can't stand, then your eyes drift to the soft rolls that rest below your shoulder blades and above your hips. Perhaps you should make more of an effort to work out. Maybe not make so many baked goods. Maybe not eat so many sweet treats your boyfriend brings you, either.

But you love those sweet treats.

You can feel tears well and you sniff trying to fight them back but when your eyes drop lower, seeing silver and purple jagged stripes that run over the curves over hips and thighs, your tears flow freely.

You wipe at your face with your palms, careful to not smudge the mascara and eyeliner you'd so carefully painted on. This was not how you wanted your day to go. You wanted to dress in cute lingerie to surprise your sexy, moustachioed man... not cry over your pudge.

The slam of the front door startles you and you hurriedly sniff and fix your make up in the mirror. You didn't want Lloyd seeing you like this; today was not the day for feeling sorry for yourself.

"Sweetcheeks!" Lloyd calls, voice echoing down the halls.

"'M up here!" You call back, voice wavering more than you'd like. You clear your throat as Lloyd's heavy footsteps climb the stairs and when the bedroom door swings open, you try to give him a beaming smile.

Lloyd, as usual, comes bearing gifts. He holds a tray of expensive chocolates in one palm, grinning ear to ear, looking particularly delectable in his black turtleneck and slacks. He throws the box of chocolates onto the bed, striding towards you to wrap his arms around you and kiss along your exposed neck. You shiver in response and try to fight the urge to curl into him and feel sorry for yourself.

"How's my pumpkin today?" He murmurs, pulling back to give you a once over. "And what a nice surprise this is."

You give him a quivering smile but Lloyd sees through it immediately, eyes narrowing when he sees the redness of your waterline.

"Sweetness?"

You can't fight it anymore. More tears bubble up as you look up at Lloyd and your voice rises to that annoyingly choked tone as you speak.

"I just feel awful." You attempt to explain, wiping at your eyes with a sniff. "I just-"

Hate the way I look.

Your half glance at the mirror makes Lloyd add two and two, and he squeezes you that little but tighter.

"Oh, honey. You've got a body made to be worshipped." He murmurs against your skin, his moustache tickling across your shoulders as he showers you with light kisses. His blue eyes sparkle when they meet yours in the reflection of the mirror. "In fact, let me."

"Let you what?" You ask, trying to twist your head to chase his lips.

"Worship you."

Heat burns through your veins, arousal pooling immediatelyat the suggestion and you nod bashfully against his chest; your cheeks rouged and burning.

Before you can blink, Lloyd sinks to his knees before you, looking up at you with a smirk. His hands grip the plump flesh of your ass, making you squeak.

His adoring gaze drops to your stomach, kissing from your belly button all the way down to your clothed sex. You shiver, despite the heat you feel, and you watch Lloyd remove your lace panties delicately; letting you step out of them instead of ripping them away from you (for once).

Once your cunt is bared to him, he wastes no time in tasting you; his tongue dragging along your slit, circling your bundle of nerves teasingly before taking it fully into is mouth and sucking gently. You gasp and make an attempt to step back but Lloyd’s large hands squeeze the rounds of your ass again and pull you back to his mouth. He hums around your clit sending electric vibrations up your spine and you sigh with waning trepidation and rising arousal, running a hand through his short hair as he continues to bury his face between your legs.

"Your pussy always tastes so sweet," he sighs, lapping at your folds hungrily. "My sweet thing. My favourite thing to eat."

After what feels like an age, when you're mewling loudly with pleasure and steuggling to stand still, Lloyd pulls back and takes a satisfying breath. His moustache and lips glisten with your arousal and you can't help the throb of your pussy at how he looks right now; eyes blown, smirking beneath you, the outline of his hard cock visible in his slacks.

"Lay on the bed, gumdrop." Even though his tone is soft you can still hear the commanding edge underneath his panting and obey diligently. You lie back, watching as Lloyd abandons his clothes hurriedly to join you on the bed. You can taste yourself on his lips and moustache when you kiss him, and it drives you wild.

"You're built like a damn goddess, baby." He praises voice low. "And you're all mine."

Your heart thuds at his words but when you move to kiss him again Lloyd dodges you, opting instead to kiss down your neck, tugging your bra straps down you shoulders so he can free your tits without wasting time trying to remove your bra. The moment your tits are free from the skimpy lace, Lloyd’s mouth is on them, pressing them hard against eachother so he can suck both hardened nipples at once.

"Oh shit," You huff out. Your head leans into your pillow, your legs writhing with pleasure as Lloyd teases your nipples with his tongue the same way he toyed with your clit. Your core aches for a moment and, as if he had a sixth sense, Lloyd releases one hand to swipe his fingers at your folds before two of them plunge into your needy hole. "Lloyd!"

You can feel Lloyd smile around the breast he hadn't freed as he curls and pumps his fingers in and out of your pussy with intent. His teeth graze over your nipple as he moves to focus on the other he carelessly abandoned. You can feel your pussy begin to pulse as you moan and cling desperately to Lloyd, who doesn't let up for a moment, even when you start chanting his name.

"C'mon sweetness," He presses, swiping his thumb over your clit. "Give me what I want."

You cum with a cry, gushing over his fingers and soaking your thighs. Your brain goes fuzzy but you can hear Lloyd’s voice echoing praises as he prolongs your orgasm by drawing tight circles on your clit. You're vaguely aware of him moving away to slot between your legs, lifting them onto his left shoulder before yanking your hips downwards so your ass is against his strong thighs.

"See? Perfect hips to hold you in place when I eat you out. And they're just as good when I fuck you." Lloyd rumbles and you groan when you feel his cock press against the back of your wet thighs. He pushes his hips against your soft flesh, holding your legs against his chest as his cock slides between your thighs easily.

You both watch in awe as he fucks your slick thighs. After a few slow thrusts you can feel the sticky heat of Lloyd’s pre-cum coat the insides of your thighs and you squeeze them involuntarily, making Lloyd tip his head back and groan.

"Youre so perfect." He murmurs, blue eyes half-lidded in pleasure as he looks down at you. "My slice of heaven."

Lloyd takes your left ankle and moves it to his right shoulder, spreading your legs into the perfect v-shape. His arm wraps over your thigh, taking the tip of his cock and running it up your slick folds before tapping it against your clit.

"Fuckin' feel how hard I am for you, princess? Fuck."

You whimper in response and wiggle your hips in an attempt to get even closer to him. Lloyd drags his cock downward to align himself before giving you a quick smirk.

"Watch how well your pretty hole takes me, honey." He purrs, slowly pushing into you. Your eyes flutter as you feel every inch of him sink into you, chest heaving as Lloyd’s saliva grows cold over your tits. "Like you were made for me."

Lloyd’s movements languid at first; one strong hand gripping your right ankle, the other pushing down on your pubic bone so you can feel every drag of his cock against your walls. You whine out his name but he only presses lingering kisses to your calf in response, seemingly intent on not being rushed.

Lloyd sighs softly bottoming out inside of your pussy and, moving his hand on your pubic bone downward, swipes at your clit with his thumb again.

"Fuck, Lloyd," you gasp at him, your arms reaching for him. However, you drop them in favour of the sheets when Lloyd’s hips start to rock against yours at pace, biting back more moans.

"Look at this perfect body - taking my cock so fuckin' good." Lloyd growls, rutting into you. "Those hips, those thighs and - God - your perfect tight cunt..." Lloyd’s eyes glaze over as you constrict his cock, biting your lip sweetly up at him.

"And those tits," he groans, watching how they bounce as his thrusts become harder and more erratic. "Can't wait to fuck 'em too."

"Please," You pant arching your back off the bed. You can feel the tightness in your core about to snap, and Lloyd’s thumb on your clit is making you see stars. "Lloyd I'm gonna-"

"I know," Lloyd chuckles. "I'm not gonna deny my goddess anything. You can cum."

Your orgasm washes over you and you coat Lloyd’s cock with your cum, the legs on his shoulders quivering and you curse breathlessly. The wet sounds of Lloyd’s balls smacking against your sopping cunt and his growls of pleasure let you know he's not far behind. Your walls flutter and grip at his length, milking him for a few more strokes until he paints your insides with his cum.

His hair is slightly dishevelled and there's a sheen of sweat clinging to you both. It takes a few moments of heavy breathing for you both to regain some sort of consciousness but it's Lloyd who speaks first.

"My Aphrodite," he purrs. "All red faced and fucked out."

Even though he's acting smug, clearly proud of the state he's left you in, his eyes twinkle with that same loving gaze you'd taken note of earlier. Your heart swells and you feel an overwhelming surge of emotion sticking to your throat and making tears well once more, this time for another reason entirely. Lloyd looks a little surprised but when you reach for him, breaking into a happy grin, he sighs with relief and leans down into your arms. You giggle when you feel him kiss at your skin softly, his moustache tickling you yet again.

"Love you," you murmur, kissing his forehead your arms crossing around his neck.

"Love you too, gumdrop." Lloyd rumbles, squeezing your breast again making you gasp.

"Hey! That's not-" You're cut off as Lloyd tweaks your hardening nipple and you keen into his neck.

"Glad you're feeling better but I won't have anyone make my sugar plum cry." He says lowly, his eyes darkening. "And that includes you."

Your eyes grow wide your heart rate skyrocketing as Lloyd smirks down at you once more.

"I think punishment may be in order."

[justacanofcorn]

Hiiii hii hi over here!! I loooved stitches!! They way you wrote Mark was perfect imo, capturing his sonewhat standoffish but human side. Awesome job!!

Can I request one where Mark is reader's best friends's dad?? AU or not but he's still an officer

Pretty please with a cherry on top? ♥

Okay we're fudging math a little with this one. We'll clock reader at 22 and Mark at...44. there, twice the age without making it too weird.

I really love this prompt and its challenge to dodge some cliches. And then roll around in some like a little piggy in the mud. Little pig boy comes from the dirt. Sorry I blacked out there for a second.

-·=»◆‡«=·-♡·=»◆‡«=·-

Is It Justice? (Mark Hoffman x F!Reader)

Tags/warnings: older man/ younger woman, manic depressive disorder, moments of deep vulnerability, questionable choices, kissy kissy, mentions of death and grief, hurt/comfort

Rated: M (I think? I started to go cross eyed writing this)

Mark sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Again. Again?

He knows he should be grateful it's you and not his son. But Sam would never, ever be caught in this compromising a position. But you had seemed to lack any sort of stern parenting in your life. His son had no shortage of that.

Okay, so he hadn't always been a perfect father, but he was a good cop. But tonight, as it had so many times before, the line became blurry. And a third role had begun to emerge, and it was bad enough that each time he had half a mind to pawn you off on someone else.

But it didn't feel right. No one would take responsibility for you, nobody would claim you. He may as well.

That's how he ends up in front of the holding cell at 3 in the morning. He's still dressed from work because he hadn't left the station yet. His son was (he prayed) still sleeping soundly in his apartment off Princeton's campus. The same could clearly not be said for you. You are in the same baggy clothes you're usual donning, dark circles decorated your undereyes. If he didn't know any better, he'd think you're on something hard.

Your eyes don't light up like he expects them to each time you're both in this situation. It's almost like a kin to dread, or pure exhaustion.

"If you're that inconvenienced, commit a crime closer to a different precinct," he mutters as the night shift cop slides the barred door open and you step through, just narrowly avoiding Mark's large frame and he follows behind you. At the booking station, Helen presents your possessions back to you.

"One cell phone, a wallet with a driver's license, library card, fortune ticket and father's credit card-we've already called- a pack of cigarettes and a Bic lighter."

You grab it all and shove it into the deep pockets of your jacket. Mark nods in gratitude at Helen and when you turn to the direction of the exit, Mark has a firm hand on your shoulder and he's steering you towards his office.

You've been in Mark's office a couple other times. Once, when you and Sam first moved in together and he wanted to introduce you to his father, and once for the first time you and the holding cell had become acquainted. The two other times you'd ended up at the police station, you'd been lucky enough to avoid this room again. But not this time.

You shake your head and slump in one of the chairs as Mark closes the door behind him. He sighs heavily and drops himself into his desk chair, and for a moment you both sit in your shared exhaustion.

"Does Sam know where you are?" His voice is groggy when he speaks. You pick at the chipped paint on your nails.

"Hope not. I left after he fell asleep. I don't like to make him worry when I leave."

Mark smirks humorlessly and stares at the ceiling tiles.

"How considerate."

"Just don't bail me out next time."

"Oh don't worry. I won't. There better not be a next time. But if there is, you'll get no help from me."

His eyes are staring sternly into your own now. You didn't have much to be proud of anymore, but you could always be proud of managing to hold Mark Hoffman's stare.

"I don't have a report. I'm tired. Can I go home?"

"You got money for a cab?"

"No."

"A subway pass?"

"I'll hop the guards."

"Like hell you will. Fine," he pushes himself up from his seat and throws on his jacket. "Come on. I'm driving you home."

You have half a mind to put up a useless fight but you're too tired, so instead you follow silently out to the parking lot and climb into the passenger side of Mark's car. He gets in and tightens his grip on the steering wheel.

"When was the last time you ate?"

You shrug. Mark curses under his breath and starts the car.

"Fine. Food first."

A half hour later, you and Head Detective Mark Hoffman are sitting outside a 24/7 bodega, devouring sandwiches and a couple of sodas. You don't even mind that the food isn't hot, you're just glad to have something on your stomach.

"Alright, so," Mark wipes his mouth and clasps his hands together. "Trespassing?"

"It didn't hurt anybody."

"Nobody but yourself."

"I'm fine."

"You know they've been exploding deeper into that quarry, right? What if you'd gone near some active explosive? Or tripped in the dark and fell 250 something feet?"

"Then Mom would have some company."

He fights the urge to grab you, only to shock the thoughts from your head. But he's too shocked.

Your mother disappeared seven months ago. Five months ago, she was found at the bottom of the quarry outside of town. Maybe it was murder, maybe it was accidental. Either way, there was a closed casket.

You almost feel guilty for the way you've stunned mark into silence, but the feeling passed quickly.

"How would your father feel if he knew that's where you were tonight?"

"He'd have to be sober enough to comprehend a single thought. My money's on the likelihood that he's in no such state."

"Fine. What about Sam?"

"I won't tell if you don't."

"Well, I've got half a mind to."

You chuckle and feel the tears prick at your eyes. "Heh. Right, just pawn me off on him. Great fathering techniques, Mark. Seriously. I'll not just become someone else's problem, but your son's. My best friend's. And soon he'll get fed up and drop me, too."

"Enough with the pity play."

"Why? It's all true. You don't give a shit so it's not like I could guilt you."

Mark crumples up his sandwich wrapper with ire and tosses it into a nearby bin. He straightens out his trousers and stands. Stares down at you. From here, you look like a stranger. Not a girl, not his son's roommate and best friend, not a woman on the verge of unravelling, but some other being that has attached itself onto his heart and follows him around like a curse.

He'd loved you for a while. He'd hated you for just as long. The way you drag yourself down, the way you endanger Sam along the way. But the way you smile and how you shine when you have your shit together- there were as many good memories as bad ones in the short span of time you'd known each other.

He can't decide who he's looking at and doesn't stop staring until you look up at him. He shakes his head, looks out onto the street, then offers a hand to help you up. You take it without hesitation and you both get back into the car.

"I really don't wanna take you back to the apartment."

"I don't wanna go back. To wake up Sam is bad enough the day before finals, but to do it with his dad in tow is not much better."

Mark grumbles. "Couch?"

You nod. "Couch."

You've done the couch routine one other time, and it wasn't any of the times you'd been arrested. This incident was midwinter, during one of your episodes where you decided to walk in the freezing snow with no direction. Sam had called Mark in a panic, Mark knew your routes well enough to find you quick. It was closer to go back to his place, and he made careful work of warming you up and assuring Sam that you were safe. After that, you and Mark formed a mutual understanding that the less Sam knew, the better.

Mark's apartment was that of the poster child for a bachelor. After Sam went off to Princeton, Mark and his wife had nothing keeping their tenuous marriage together so the divorce was quiet and amicable. Now, Mark works too much to seek any remedy to that.

All that being said, Mark keeps his place nice, and his leather couch beckons you immediately. You collapse onto it and you can hear Mark halt over you.

"You're gonna sleep in jeans?"

"I didn't pack my overnight bag," you mumble into the material. Mark sighs. Leaves the room, comes back, tosses a bundle of clothes on top of you. You sit up and unfold them. PPD sweatpants and a faded t-shirt.

"How scandalous," you mutter, too tired to censor your words.

"Be uncomfortable for all I care."

Mark busies himself with removing his tie and you stand and hobble to the bathroom to change. From the kitchen area he can hear you sniffle and cough, changing otherwise quietly before reentering the living room. His breath hitches when he sees you in his clothes. He can't remember the last time he saw you in something that actually fit but clothes always left plenty to the imagination. And Mark did imagine.

You rub your eyes and stumble to the kitchen sink, grabbing a coffee mug and filling it with water. He watches as your throat strains when you devour the water like you were born thirsty. You'd just had a soda, but of course you're dehydrated. You don't take care of yourself during your episodes. He knows it just kills Sam. He knows, because he feels the same way.

He can't understand why you and Sam never became an item, even for a brief time. He was proud to call Sam his son, the way he's smart and kind, and you're funny and intelligent when you decide to be, and beautiful. So beautiful. Whether you're made up and presentable or on his couch, in his clothes, looking like death.

He only realizes he's staring when he blinks and you're staring back from the sink.

"Mark?"

He squeezes his eyes shut and yawns. "Sorry. Tired. You know where everything is if you need it."

"Yeah," you say, but your voice is thicker than it should be. It's no mystery that Mark Hoffman is an attractive man. Gruff and grumpy and yet does everything in his power to take care of you. Sam does the same, but you're so scared of ruining him. You don't run that risk with Mark.

You can't ever pin down exactly what it is you like so much about him. Maybe it's his thick arms and large hands, or his dumb hair, or his asshole smirks and the way his praise and compliments light you up inside. How he talks to you like an equal, even in these times. Everyone walks on eggshells around you. He's a hardass. You love him for it.

Mark senses a shift and taps the counter decisively.

"Listen-"

"No," he shakes his head. "No, don't."

But you stand and he doesn't move.

"I'm not doing anything."

Except you are. You're moving towards him and he can't find the strength to move away.

"It's too late to do this-"

"Do what?" You ask in faux innocence. You're not the teasing type, but you're just desperate to know if he'll fess up or not. You already know you're screwed.

"You know."

You bite your lip and take a small satisfaction when the movement captures his eyes.

"Mark, no one sees me like you do."

"That's not true," he lies.

"It is, but it's okay."

You place your hands on his chest and he stops breathing. Doesn't move.

"So long as you know, I don't do it for attention. I've been this way before I ever met you or Sam."

"I know," he says breathlessly.

"Do you want to touch me?" You ask. He exhales and trembles. He's only thought about it shamefully in the dark of his bedroom or his office about a hundred times. To caress the sides of you that he suspects have gone untouched for too long. To hold you gently and yet assure you that no one else will be touching you for a long time.

He's quiet for too long. You take a hand and bring it under the shirt that swallows your torso, sliding his palm against your tummy. He exhales through his nose.

"I want you to touch me. And I want to touch you."

His hand burns onto your soft skin and you continue to move it up until his fingers grace the curve of your breast.

And just like that he yanks his hand back and stands, pushing away from you.

"Mark-"

"Go to sleep. Don't think about this anymore."

Easy enough for him to say. You both know that you'll go to your respective beds (well, bed and couch) and you'll be kept awake by the thought. But you don't argue. Only watch as he stalks down the hall and fights with himself, until he closes the bedroom door behind him. You sigh and lay down on the couch, grabbing a nearby throw blanket but deciding you're too hot for it right now.

And in his room, Mark paces the floor. He slowly removes one article of clothing after the other, ends up sitting on the edge of his bed in a shirt and boxers, fingers pressed to his lips, eyes glued to the door.

He's waiting for you. If you come knocking, he'll let you in. But he can't go to you. He can't. That would seal his fate.

But the thought of you so warm and ready for him, so inviting and strong willed...his resolve is wavering.

And it doesn't take fifteen minutes before he's walking back to the couch.

And you rise and meet him halfway, and there's only a moment's hesitation before his lips crash into yours and his hands are returning to where you'd placed them before. Mark will convince himself that you initiated the kiss. You'll let him have that lie. Whatever seals your fate together. Whatever keeps you both coming back together.

[sadhours]

Wicked Sensation

part seventeen // billy hargrove x f!reader

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven | part twelve | part thirteen | part fourteen | part fifteen | part sixteen | part seventeen

a/n: I’m going through a bit of family stuff but writing is my outlet so i don’t think it should be affected but to play it safe, this is going to be the hardest week of my life and I might get to requests slowly and post chapters slowly but maybe I’ll post more who knows. Anyways, thank you all so much for reading. I appreciate you all endlessly.

word count: 6k

warnings: 18+ minors dni, hey Eddie still exists!, Neil being Neil, pregnancy, smut, oral (m receiving), p in v

tag list: @blue-eyed-lion @bbyhargrove @sweet-villain @actuallyspencerreid @trapistani @sierrahhh @likeanimagepassingby2

Okay, so maybe it’s a bit ridiculous. The man has put a baby in you and is moving in to your parents house, you shouldn’t have to devise a plan to get him to propose to you. You never even pictured yourself in this role before but with all the pregnancy hormones and the devotion you feel towards Billy, the prospect of being his wife and the mother of his kids is insanely appealing. Perhaps this was all Mary’s fault. She’d put the idea in your head and now it was all you could think about.

That’s how you’re awake at the ass crack of dawn with her, making a lunch for Billy to take to his first day at your dads shop. You think that maybe if you start doing wife type things, Billy will realize how badly he wants to marry you.

“You wake up this early every morning?” you ask, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Mary smiles wide as she pours you a cup of coffee, “How do you think I get anything done?”

“There’s like more than 12 hours left of today, that seems like too much time,” you complain as you hear footsteps down the hall.

You turn to see a sleepy, messy haired Billy with an unlit cigarette perched between his lips already. That same familiar feeling warming your chest and making you swoon whenever you see him. He walks into the kitchen, pulling the cigarette from his mouth to lean down and peck your cheek.

“Morning,” he grumbles to Mary and reaches for the coffee pot.

“Oh, here!” you cheer, extending out the cup Mary had just poured for you.

Billy takes it, smiling at you, “Thanks, darlin. Care to join me?”

“You haven’t quit smoking?” Mary gives you a look of shock.

Shamefully, you shake your head. You were going to schedule an appointment today for the doctors and figured you’d ask him about your options for that. You’d been smoking since you were thirteen and weren’t sure if you could quit and Billy wasn’t going to anytime soon so you’d always have the temptation.

“They’re Lights,” Billy offers, “It’s something.”

Again, your heart swells. It’s a small thing but you love how he defends you at any opportunity. Mary gives you both a disappointed look as you follow Billy out to the backyard. He lights the cigarette and takes a long drag before handing it to you.

“We can share,” he says, “At least you’re cutting back.”

You nod and lean your shoulder into his, “Thank you. I feel like you’re the only person who gets me.”

He kisses your temple but doesn’t say anything. You’d like to think you’re the only person who gets him. Billy’s still not good at talking about his feelings. He shows you how he feels through touch, and maybe that’s enough. For now, at least. If you’re gonna start a family with him, you’d like that to change.

He takes another long drag from the cigarette and speaks up, “I’ve got to get my things today. If there is anything left. You willing to make that trip with me when I get back?”

You think that means he feels safe with you. With a soft smile, you tell him yes. You know you two have to tell Neil that you’re pregnant, or at least, you think you should. See, Billy hadn’t told you about his dad finding the Polaroids of you and you still thought that Neil liked you, so you think maybe he’ll be excited that you’re pregnant. Billy knows better and is dreading telling his dad. In fact, he doesn’t really want to tell him, doesn’t want Neil to be a grandfather at all. He knows Neil will try to control his kid since he can no longer control Billy.

“Are you excited to work for my dad?” you ask.

Billy nods, he genuinely is. He likes working on cars, figures it’ll pay enough for you guys to find an apartment in a few months. He is thinking about marriage, but he’s afraid of it. Having a child together isn’t enough to make sure either of you stay, he’s learned that. He’s also worried you might run off into another man’s arms at the first sign of trouble. It’s a fear he can’t shake.

“Yeah. You looking for jobs today?” he asks as he stumps the cigarette out in the ashtray.

Sighing, you shrug. You hadn’t planned for that but you know you should. Billy shouldn’t have to have all the financial responsibility but you had no idea what you would do. Working at your dads shop could easily turn into a career but you didn’t have that luxury. Your options were limited with only being able to work until the baby was born.

“I suppose I should,” you tell him as he stands and helps you up.

-

You pick up the phone and dial a number you’ve had memorized since grade school but you don’t remember the last time you called it.

“Hello?” Eddie’s voice rings through.

“Hi,” you say meekly.

Eddie scoffs, “You remembered I exist.”

You lay on your mattress, looking up at the ceiling as guilt drips into your system. Billy kept you so distracted from everyone and then when you were broken up shortly, Steve took up most your time. Eddie wasn’t supportive of you and Billy and selfishly, you decided Billy was most important. He still was, even more so now that you were carrying his child but you and Eddie had so much history that it would be cruel to never talk to him again.

“I’m sorry… I haven’t been fair to you,” you say softly.

“I expected you to call when I heard Billy dumped your ass but you never did,” Eddie replies, “Guess you couldn’t bear to hear an ‘I told you so’.”

“We got back together,” you mumble, “But I should’ve called. I don’t want to have to chose between the two of you.”

“Then don’t.”

“Eddie, you’re the one who made me feel like I had to in the first place,” you explain, “Billy has no issues with you.”

He’s silent and your skin crawls. You didn’t want to lose him but you understood if Eddie wanted nothing to do with you.

“I just don’t want to have to deal with it,” he says finally, “If you guys are constantly breaking up and getting back together, I’m never gonna come around to the idea of him.”

“I don’t see that happening,” you reveal, “He’s moving in and I’m pregnant, so…”

“You’re what?” Eddie’s voice sounds shocked.

“Yeah. I’m having Billy Hargrove’s baby.”

“Jesus Christ,” he exhaled, “I tell you what, I didn’t see that one happening.”

“Yeah, we didn’t either,” you chuckle.

“And he didn’t run away? He’s moving in with you? Are you guys engaged or something?”

“No! Well, not yet. I don’t know if he wants to get married,” you admit, shyly.

Eddie laughs, “He’s moving in with you and you guys are having a baby. Why the hell would he skip marrying you?”

“I don’t know. Marriage is like a big deal, a big commitment,” you say and Eddie’s laughing harder, you picture him doubling over from it.

“Why are you laughing?” you pout, feeling like you’re missing out on some joke.

Once his breathing calms down, he starts, “He’s all fine and dandy knocking you up and you’re scared he can’t commit.”

Eddie starts laughing again and you really don’t see why it’s hard to believe. You and Billy both know that kids and marriage don’t keep people together. Eddie should know that too, but here he is laughing hysterically.

“It’s not funny,” you whine and finally, he sighs.

“You’re right,” he deadpans, “it’s stupid. So I have Hellfire tonight but if you’re not busy later this week, we should hang out.”

“Can I bring Billy?” you ask, twirling the phone chord around your finger.

Another sigh and he says, “Yeah… guess I should get to know him if he’s gonna be the dad of my god child.”

You’re heart swells, but you deep down knew Eddie would forgive you. You guys were practically family.

-

Dale holds out the light blue uniform shirt to Billy, tells him they can get him an embroidered patch soon and Billy thanks him. Having a name on the shirt was a privilege at the shop in San Diego and Billy never earned it. At your dads shop, it was something everyone typically got from the first day. He wanted his employees to feel important, like they belonged on a team.

Billy pulls the shirt over his white tank top and starts buttoning it up, eyes scanning over your dads office. It’s in disarray. Tools, papers and empty paper coffee cups placed sporadically. On his desk, is a photo of you and your brother. Billy picks it up and looks closer. He suspects it’s from a past trip to Florida because your hair is shorter.

“You’ll have to come out with us from now on,” Dale says.

“What? Sorry,” he places the frame back on the desk.

“Florida. For Christmas, you’ll have to come with us,” your dad explains and Billy feels weird but not in a bad way. Christmas wasn’t ever a special holiday since his mom left. In fact, they didn’t really even celebrate it before his dad met Susan. The only thing he’d looked forward to was a card from his grandparents. However, you talked about Christmas excitedly, you’d told Billy it was your third favorite; after Halloween and Thanksgiving of course. It must be that it was fun in Florida, that holidays with your family weren’t as empty or angry as the ones Billy was used to.

“Yeah,” he says, smiling at the thought, “Wonder what the surfs like down there.”

Your dad laughs, “The waters a lot choppier than California but I imagine you’ll have fun.” He gestures to the door, “Let me give you a tour, real quick.”

Billy listens closely as your dad explains the routine of the shop and what Billy’s primary responsibilities will be before sending him in with Darla from accounting and Billy recognizes the name when your dad says it. He walks into the little office and is met with a member of his fan club, one of the housewives that would hang out around the pool.

“Billy!” she smiles wide, “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, hi,” he says as he walks up to her desk.

She keeps looking over Billy’s shoulder, causing him to turn and look.

“Oh, don’t worry,” she says, “We’re alone.”

He looks back at her with his brows furrowed. Alone? he thinks and his eyes dart down to the worn romance novel sitting on her desk. She stands and he shakes his head, “Oh, no.”

“No?” she looks disappointed.

Billy chuckles, “Dale just hired me, he sent me in here so I could fill out paperwork.”

Her disappointment evolves back into excitement, “You’re working here now?”

“Yep!” he chirps as he sits at the plastic chair across from her desk. “Saving for the baby and all.”

“Baby?” she asks and Billy revels in the defeated tone.

“Yeah, that’s why Dale’s giving me the job. His daughter and I are having a baby,” he puts his elbow on his knees and leans forward.

“Congratulations,” she says as she slams a clipboard on the desk. “Just fill this out quickly and I’ll have you in the books.”

“Awesome,” he grabs it, “Thanks.”

-

Billy takes the long way home, chain-smoking and listening to an entire cassette even though it’s typically a fifteen minute drive from the shop to home. He just needs to clear his head and his favorite way to do so is to take the road that stretches all around Hawkins and back. It’s mostly fields and farms, but it’ll take him right where he’s needs to go and he likes that it’s empty roads. He figures his alone time will be limited from here on out.

When he finally gets home, you’re voicing concerns. They’re in the form of questions, he knows you were worried but he can’t help but feel a bit suffocated. He knows these feelings are because of his looming fear of seeing his dad but he can’t help but lash out.

“I just took a drive,” he bites, “Can you chill out? It’s not even late.”

You stare back up at him, a little stunned but you press your palm on his chest and rub in circles, “I’m sorry.”

Billy doesn’t expect that reaction and his first response is to push you away, but that’s Neil getting in his head. He sighs and wraps his arms around you, pulling you to his chest and tucking his face into your neck.

“No, I’m sorry,” he mumbles into your hair, “Just not looking forward to going over there.”

Your hands circle around his waist and you squeeze him, “I’ll be with you. We’ll make it quick, just grab as much as we can and leave.”

He pulls back and hooks his finger under your chin, tilting your head back as he leans in to press his lips to yours. It’s chaste but lets you know he trusts you. And anytime his lips are on you, it heats up your thighs and leaves you a little breathless.

“Shall we get it over with then?” Billy grumbles though his tone suggests he really doesn’t want to.

You lace your fingers and pull him out the door. He allows you to lead him across the street and then the two of you just stand at the door. Billy feels as if he has to knock, like he hasn’t just spent a little less than a year living in this house. His knuckles tap against the wood as he prays Max answers the door. She doesn’t.

“It’s about damn time,” Neil spews as he stares at Billy, eyes dark. He eyes dart to you and then back to his son, “Needed your safety blanket, did ya?”

Your blood boils so you squeeze Billy’s hand tighter, “We’re just here to get some of his stuff.”

You figure you’ll do the talking, maybe make this a little easier. Neil opens the door wide, stepping back and you can see Susan peeking her head out of the kitchen. Billy tugs you inside, making a beeline for his bedroom door. Upon opening it, Billy sees that Neil has sold all his stuff and all that’s left is his stereo system and two packed boxes on the floor. His face heats up, he wants to scream at his dad but it’s a losing battle. He knows what Neil will say. He bought everything that was in there. Billy knows because the stereo is still there, it was the first thing Billy bought when he got his first ever paycheck.

He heaves a sigh and then looks over to you, “Can you manage the two boxes? It won’t hurt the… ya know.”

“Billy, I’m like maybe a few weeks along, it’s a little tadpole in there,” you say and then your eyes widen, realizing that you’ve just admitted you were pregnant.

You turn around to see Neil standing in the doorway, looking dumbfounded.

“Fuck,” Billy curses, bringing his hand to rub his brow.

“What was that?” Neil asks, stepping into the room.

Billy heaves a sigh and turns to his dad, “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” he scoffs, “Sounded to me like your little girlfriend just said she’s pregnant.”

“Pregnant?” Susan’s voice rings through the hall and she hurries to stand in the doorway.

Billy doesn’t say anything, he just starts stacking the speakers onto the cassette deck.

“You really fucked up,” Neil laughs sinisterly, the sound startling you and causing bile to rise up your throat. You swallow it down and go to grab the boxes but Neil stops you, “I’ll get the boxes. You shouldn’t be doing any heavy lifting.”

“No, it’s fine,” you try but he’s already picking them up with ease and heading for the door.

“Shit,” Billy says, grabbing the stereo and following after his dad.

You eye Susan curiously before walking out behind your boyfriend. Neil’s already at your doorstep when you get outside and Billy’s quickly shuffling across the street after him.

“Dad,” he calls out.

Neil bangs on the door and your dad opens it. Your hearts in your chest as you run after them. You have no idea what Neil’s plan is but you’re scared he’s gonna deck your dad right in the face.

“Neil,” your dad says, opening the door wider to let him in. You and Billy right behind him.

“Go ahead and just set those down anywhere,” Mary says to him, perched over the kitchen counter.

You shut the door behind you, letting out the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

“Dad,” Billy pleads again, but nothing follows. He doesn’t know what he’s asking Neil not to do.

“So my sons knocked your daughter up, has he?” Neil says after dropping the boxes on the floor.

This is all your fault. The guilt rises in your throat and threatens to pour out, you reach to Billy for comfort once he’s set the stereo down.

“It would appear so,” your dad says, leaning against the kitchen table as he looks to Neil casually.

“And you didn’t kill him?” Neil responds, crossing his arms.

Your dad shrugs, “I like the kid.”

Neil chuckles, but it doesn’t sound happy, like he can’t fathom anyone liking his son. He shakes his head, seems defeated and you and Billy both admire your dad.

“Is that all, then?” your dad asks, crossing his arms.

“Well what’s the plan then? When are you getting married?” Neil asks, turning to his son now.

Billy clears his throat and you notice he starts tapping his foot, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Neil scoffs, “Well, boy, you better figure it out. You don’t want to marry her? You should’ve thought that before you did something so damn irresponsible.”

The words sting your chest and your dad moves in front of Billy, physically shielding him from Neil.

“Thanks for stopping by,” your dad says, “We’ll make sure to let you know the plan.”

Billy’s shocked when his dad retreats, through all the years of abuse, he’s never seen his dad give up on a fight. He takes a deep breath when the door slams. Most of all, though, he’s embarrassed. Without a word, he picks the stereo up and lugs it into your room.

“Thank you, dad…” you hug your father, unable to truly express your gratitude.

“Let Billy know that I didn’t only do that for you, I did it for him,” your dad says, a solemn smile on his face.

You nod, squeezing him once more before trailing to your room to see Billy still holding the stereo. He has no idea where to put it, you have too much stuff. You put your hand on his shoulder, “I’ll give mine to my brother. Yours is better anyways.”

Billy heaves a sigh, remaining silent as he watches you unplug your stereo and gather the speakers. You leave to put it in your brothers room, saying a quiet hello to him when he peers up at you from his book.

“Aw, really?” he sets the book down and sits up.

You place it on his dresser, “Yeah, Billy’s is better than this one.”

“Thanks, sis,” he says, springing up from his bed, “I don’t have any cassettes.”

“I’ll give you some,” you offer, placing your hands on your hips as you look at him.

“Was that his dad?” he asks, biting his nail.

You slap his hand from his mouth, not wanting him to form the habit, “Yeah.”

“Are you really having a baby?” he asks, a tilt of his head.

You nod, giggling as you ruffle up his hair, “Yeah, you’re gonna be an uncle.”

He grins up at you, “I hope it’s a boy.”

“Billy does too,” you reply, “I hope it’s a girl.”

“Typical,” your brother says, poking at the buttons on the stereo set.

You roll your eyes and head back to your room, noticing Billy’s set up the stereo but he’s no longer in the room. You peer curiously out the door to see him walking up to you with the boxes in his hands. He sets them on the floor and sits in front of them, opening the first up to inspect what Neil wanted him to keep. To his surprise, it’s all the things he's kept of his mothers. His heart aches, wanting so desperately to tell her she’s going to be a grandmother, wanting to tell her everything that’s happened since she left.

“He didn’t throw any of it away,” Billy mumbles in disbelief.

“Is it your moms stuff?” you ask, as you sit beside him.

He hands you a photo, it’s of an infant Billy being held by a beautiful blonde lady. You’d never seen any photos of Billy as a baby.

“Huh,” you say, “So our kids gonna be this cute.”

Billy shoves you playfully, “With any luck, it’ll only have my genes.”

You giggle, happy when this side of Billy makes a resurgence. “I’m hoping and praying.”

He hands you another photo, one of when he’s roughly a year old and he’s standing in front of his mom while holding onto her hands. He’s learning how to walk. You scan over it, smiling back at his mom. “She’s so pretty,” you muse, “You look like her.”

You swear he blushes, “Yeah, she was beautiful.”

He continues pulling the items out, showing you every photo and explaining every random item. Billy visibly relaxes, an easy smile plastered on his face and he’s never looked prettier. You kiss his face, starting at his jaw and all the way up to his hairline.

“Oh! Wait!” You spring up and barrel out of the room, only to return with an empty photo album. You sit back down and hand it to him, “Here, you can put them in here.”

He takes it gratefully and gradually, the two of you fill the photo album. Billy then moves onto the second box. It’s his jewelry and a few clothing items but at the bottom of it, his dirty magazines sit. Billy laughs, pulling them out.

“Why the hell didn’t he just throw these away?”

“Who is he to become between a man and his porn collection?” you tease, pulling the first Penthouse magazine from him.

You start flipping through it, seeing in your peripheral that Billy’s watching you with an amused expression. After flipping a page, Polaroids fall into your lap. You drop the magazine and gather up the photos, blushing when you see they’re of you and Billy. Some raunchier than others.

“You kept these?” you ask, softly.

“How do you think I got through those weeks without ya?” he nudges your shoulder.

You look at him, mouth agape. You’re extremely flattered at the thought of Billy pleasuring himself to photos of you. Granted, half of these, his dick is inside of you but still.

“You jacked off to these?” you ask, lowering your voice.

“Oh, yeah,” he says, grabbing them from your hand and shuffling through them. “This one’s my favorite,” he hands you a Polaroid, it’s one of the day at the lake.

You’re embarrassed as you look down at your body, riding Billy on a towel with your swimsuit top not covering your breasts but pulled to the sides. Then you tilt your head, looking at where your bodies meet and you can see just the tiniest inch of his cock. It is a hot photo and you remember how turned on you got when Billy reached for the camera.

Suddenly, you feel his lips on your neck and then his tongue, wet and hot against your sensitive flesh. You moan softly at the feeling, tilting your head even more to give him access while you continue to look at the photo. He reaches into your pants, cupping you over your underwear and your breath hitches in your throat. He gently moves his fingers, teasing the wetness out of you. The photo flutters out of your grip.

“You like it, too,” he notes, feeling you soak through the thin cotton.

“Uh huh,” you moan, awkwardly spreading your thighs and feeling as the magazines and photos fall from your lap onto the floor.

His hand rises a bit, just to snake into your underwear and his fingertips drag up through folds and stop at your clit. He sucks on your neck, rubbing languid circles against your sensitive bud. You lean back, hands pressing on the floor behind you to keep you upright. Billy’s fingers feel like magic, always do. You ache for him, want to feel him all over. You get frustrated sometimes, wanting him closer even if he’s as close as he can physically be.

“Billy,” you whimper, your arms shaking as you try to hold yourself up but when he slides two fingers inside you, you collapse onto your back and kick your feet out to spread your legs further.

He chuckles, leaning down to kiss your lips softly. He pulls away too quickly, so you cling onto his shirt and pull him back down, feeling his smile into the kiss. You lick against his teeth, still pulling at his shirt. He gives you what you want, licking into your mouth and curling his fingers inside you. Your back arches off the ground, moaning into his mouth. He groans back, his fingers faltering when you reach over to feel his cock straining against his jeans. You’re eager, unbuttoning his jeans and trying to claw them down, but with the way he’s positioned you can’t. He lifts his bum up and helps shove them to his thighs with his free hand. Your fingers wrap around his cock as soon as it’s free, stroking him quickly. He laughs against your mouth.

“Slow down,” he mumbles and you lick his teeth again, groaning in protest but you still listen.

You can hear his breathing and the slick sound of his fingers pumping in and out of your soaking pussy. You swipe your thumb against his tip, feeling his precum bubbling out and you spread it around which earns you a guttural groan from the blonde. You lift your other hand and push him back, leaning yourself over to take him in your mouth. You have to taste. Swirling your tongue around his pulsing head, your hand strokes whatever’s not in your mouth. Billy leans his head back, biting his lip to stifle his moans. If only he’d turned on the stereo when he plugged it in.

Billy’s pulling his hand away only to snake both of them into your hair, propping himself on his knees and pushing you further down on his cock. You’d be pissed about the loss but his pursuit of his own pleasure turns you on more. You position yourself better in front of him, grabbing onto his thighs while you breath through your nose as you take him into your mouth as deep as you can. You bob your head, by the aid of Billy’s grip on your hair as he guides you up and down. You look up to see his eyes meeting yours, mouth slightly agape and his eyes glassy. You can’t help but gag as he reaches the back of your throat and he moans, voice hoarse and just a tad whiny. It makes you squirm, feeling slick dripping down your thighs.

“Fuck,” he whines, as you pull off him with a loud pop, drool stringing between your lips and the head of his cock.

You stick your tongue out, eyes wide up at him and he wraps his fingers around his cock as he slaps it against your tongue. Your lips tug up before you wrap them around his head again, sucking hard and then pulling off again. Billy’s pushing you down into your back, then. He rips your leggings and panties off before following suit with your top and bra. As he’s lining himself up with your center, you start unbuttoning his work shirt and pushing it off his shoulders, the sleeves catching at his elbows. He gets the hint, smiling when he pulls it off and then grabs the hem of his tank top, bringing it over his head and tossing it aside. He presses his palm against your chest, easing you back down. He grabs his dick again and presses his tip through your folds, shaking it against your clit. You gasp, hands squeezing your own breasts.

“Give it to me, Billy,” you beg, “please.”

He smirks and then plunges his cock into you. It stings slightly as he bottoms out, his hand coming up to dig his fingers into your thigh. Your eyes flutter shut and he brings his other hand to grab your jaw.

“Look at me,” he orders and you obey, eyelids flying open to see his gorgeous, flushed face looking back at you.

Billy shoves his fingers in your mouth and you suck on them lazily, moaning around them as he rocks his hips against you. He pumps in and out of you, deep and slow as his thumb digs into your cheek. It’s crazy, with his fingers shoved in your mouth and his cock balls deep in you, all you can think is how fucking much you love him. How you can’t live without him. How you never want to go a day without this.

“Closer,” you mouth around his fingers.

He pulls them out and looks down at you curiously, slowing his thrusts.

“Closer, want you closer,” you plead.

Billy smiles, leaning down and wrapping his arms around you before pulling you up, holding you against his chest. Your arms circle his neck, holding him close while he moves his hips quicker again. You moan softly against his ear, clinging onto him for dear life. His arms tighten around you and you’re thankful for all the working out he does. He’s able to press against your g-spot with every thrust as this angle and you’re quickly coming undone around him. In attempt to help, you writhe against him. His labored breathing followed by small, high pitched moans in your ear pushes you along. You scratch at his upper back, letting him know you’re close and he starts pounding up into you harder. It snaps, the build up of your orgasm falling over the edge and you shake against him, biting his shoulder to quiet the cry you let out.

Billy’s leaning down, resting you on your back and relentlessly thrusting into you. You scratch all the way down his back, overwhelmed with pleasure as you ride out your climax. He freezes, eyes squeezing shut and gritting his teeth as he releases inside of you. You hold onto his face, wrapping your legs around his waist and grinding your hips up against him. He whimpers, hands grabbing onto your hips to pin you down. He collapses his weight on top of you and it’s the most comfortable feeling in the world. You squeeze him in your arms and pepper his neck with kisses.

He finally lifts himself up to his elbows and gazes down at you, curls sticking to his face with sweat. He looks ethereal, always does but more so now than ever.

“I love you,” he whispers, caressing your face.

“I love you, Billy.”

-

Three months of saving and he’s about to burn through it in an instant. Billy peers down at the ring, reading the engraving and second guessing himself. Not about proposing, but about the words he’s chosen.

Forever, Snoopy.

He knows you’ll get it but it feels cheesy and he’s a bit uncomfortable with that side of him showing. He knows he shouldn’t feel embarrassed around you. Besides, girls like that kind of mushy, romantic stuff. Billy has a hard time with being perceived as anything other than tough and cool so he tells himself you’ll think the ring is cool and that it was very cool of him to reference how you met and totally not tacky and cheesy.

It burns a hole in his pocket as he walks into the restaurant, seeing you sitting there with your dad, brother and Mary and wonders if proposing in such a public setting is a bad idea. Oh, God, what if you say no?

He feels his lunch threaten to make a reappearance and he redirects his path to the bathroom. He locks the door behind him and looks at himself in the mirror. He wore his best shirt, the maroon one and he’s only buttoned the last two buttons. He shimmies out of his leather jacket, suddenly feeling too hot. He rests it on the counter and then turns the cold water on. He splashes it on his face and then takes a deep breath. Why would you say no? There’s no possible timeline in which you say no to marrying him.

Hell, he’d asked your dad this morning and if he doubted your acceptance he would’ve said something like ‘Sure, Billy, spend all of the tiny bit you’ve saved to move out of my house to get rejected by my daughter’ instead of “Yes, of course you have my blessing.”

Billy takes a deep breath and exits the bathroom, only to turn around and retrieve his jacket. Nerves be damned, he was gonna marry you. He arrives to the table and you stand to greet him, his eyes darting to the tiny baby bump more obvious than it’s ever been in the tight dress you’re wearing. He kisses you, hand pressing to your hip as he does so.

“Hi, baby,” you say to him with those dreamy eyes.

“Hi,” he coos back, his nerves subsiding the second your eyes meet. He forgets why he was nervous in the first place. “Sorry, I'm late,” he apologizes to you and then your family, as he sits down.

Your dad gives him a knowing smile and it makes Billy even more nervous. He’s in his own head during the whole dinner, missing questions directed at him. You reach over and squeeze his bicep, asking if he’s alright and Billy just nods.

Then he tells himself he’s got nothing to worry about and maybe right now isn’t the right time to propose. He ignores your dads pointed looks and when you excuse yourself to restroom Billy announces to the table, “I am going to propose just not here.”

“You nervous?” Dale chuckles, sipping his wine.

Billy blushes, “I just… I don’t know, feel like we should be alone.”

Mary reaches in her bag and pulls out the Polaroid camera, “Then you have to take the photo.”

“I can’t do both at the same time,” Billy explains, a little exasperated.

Mary grins, “Why don’t you do it when she gets back? As she walks up, get down on one knee.”

Billy’s eyes widen, thinking about what a spectacle that would be, “God, no. I want to do it when we’re alone.”

“It’s their story, Mary,” your dad says, “Let them write it.”

“Fine,” she grumbles and reaches for her wine.

“I’ll ask for you if you’re scared,” your brother offers Billy earnestly.

Billy pats his back, “Thanks, kid but I’ve got to do this myself.”

You return to the table and raise an eyebrow as they all turn to Billy expectantly, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” Billy smiles too wide at you.

And he doesn’t ask, he thinks about it when you’re cuddling before bed that night but he can’t bring himself to do it. He presses kisses against the back of your neck

“You know I love you, right?” he mumbles, almost too quiet for you to hear.

You lean your head back, awkwardly angling your lips to his. He squeezes your waist and kisses back deeply.

“I love you, too Billy. Why are you acting weird?” you turn around to look into his eyes.

“I’m not acting weird,” he argues, but his cheeks feel hot.

“Are you trying to ask for a blow job?” you tease, pushing his hair back.

“I mean…” he laughs, “If you’re offering, I’ll accept.”

“Go to bed,” you giggle and tuck your head in his shoulder.

He’ll ask in the morning, he decides.

[dinneronvenus]

⭒ Shishiba x fem reader

⭒ tags: fluff for perverts • heavy petting • emotional foreplay • pda • exhibitionist Shishiba • reader is a “honeypot” spy • secret relationship • canonically disabled Shishiba • praise • pleasure d-m Shishiba • mild jealousy and possessiveness

⭒ umm I had no idea how to end this before it got too long lol my bad I may redo the ending but enjoy it for now. I did not proofread this either lol

Shishiba has a fierce set of ethics and rules about how he performs in his job. He doesn’t get upset when people close to him die because he knows that’s just the nature of the job. It’d be hypocritical to be upset at death when you kill people for a living. It’d be even more hypocritical to hate experiencing violence when you operate as violently as possible. Any feelings that conflicted with the nature of his work were deemed pointless, selfish, and ridiculous. He threw them away and fulfilled his duties without a shred of insincerity. Or he did before meeting you, anyway.

It’d been a few months since you’d turned him into a hypocrite. He still remembers your first meeting like it was yesterday. The way you sauntered into the Order’s dining room when the chairman gave his cue was burned into Shishiba’s mind. Your dress was pitch black and a perfect fit for your curvy body; accentuating all the right things. Your hair and makeup were flawless—he couldn’t stop his eyes from flicking to your glossy lips as the chairman introduced you.

“She’ll be gathering intelligence from extremely high profile targets that have a weakness for the flesh.”

Suddenly the unbelievable beauty made sense. You’d essentially be used as bait and work in tandem with at least one member of the Order to eliminate targets when you weren’t gathering information. At first he resigned himself to not being able to pursue you at all, but after two missions with you he started convincing himself that something strictly physical wouldn’t be a problem. How shortsighted and stupid of him.

You two have been working your latest target for the last month, a ceo that turned out to be the host of a human auction, and not a second went by where jealousy didn’t try to consume Shishiba whole. Due to his low casualty rate and high discretion you were paired up often and for long stretches of time. He couldn’t bring himself to be rude or cold with you for too long but God knows he tried so hard to resist you in the beginning.

He tried to write you off, figuring your sweet personality and elegant demeanor were manufactured for your job. The more time you spent with him, the more he saw that you were a true natural charmer. In fact, he noticed that the way you speak to your targets and the way you speak to him differed only slightly. You didn’t praise him or stroke his ego in any way and never tried to manipulate his feelings or thoughts. That last part didn’t change when the two of you started fucking either. You weren’t shy about letting him know you enjoyed his mouth when it was clamped around your pussy and would even tell him you thought of him when you took targets to bed. The problem was that you did it so matter-of-factly. As if it should be obvious enough to not need saying that you enjoyed him more than the scumbags. He was desperate for the emotional side of you, even if it was fake.

Every second you spent in the hands of someone else was sandpaper to his soul. Hearing the playback of your intelligence gathering sessions made him want to tear someone apart. Your voice dripped with a cocktail of lust, respect, and adoration made specifically for the target. Flirty giggles punctuated your responses and the subtle, almost chaste physical affections you’d give them to solidify the fantasy often force him to disable the visual feed.

You were never so intentionally emotional with him and he refused to let yet another despicable man enjoy his idea of heaven without experiencing it himself. You came back to the safe house after your latest session with the ceo. Shishiba noticed that your hair was in a different style and your lips were swollen. He couldn’t help but picture you suckling on the fingers and cock of the ceo and had to turn away to hide his reflexive grimace. Your heels clattered against the floor as you slipped them off with a relieved sigh.

“Welcome back,” Shishiba said without facing you, choosing instead to make it seem like he was searching in the near-bare fridge for something. “Anything to report?”

“In three days there will be another auction. Our goal should be to identify the guests—specifically the bidders—and eliminate our current target. If we can set up to probe or eliminate others, that’s a bonus.” Your voice sounded softer than normal with exhaustion leaking through.

“Excellent work. We should go out to eat and celebrate.” Shishiba closed the fridge after coming out empty handed. “There’s nothing to eat here anyway.”

“Sounds good to me. It’ll be nice to spend time with someone who doesn’t make my skin crawl.” You said the last part more to yourself than to him but he saw an opening and took it.

“Such high praise,” he said sarcastically as he walked towards you slowly. He held his left hand out to you—two sleek black prosthetic fingers reflected the soft light—an offering of gentle affection. A code between you two ever since you first came close enough to notice he wasn’t just wearing a half glove. Genuine curiosity and concern for him gave your voice a comforting quality. He didn’t feel weaker or defective under your gaze. You didn’t probe him about how he lost the fingers. He extended his hand and you took it wanting a better look, next thing he knew he was taking off your clothes. Now every night he’s blessed to be inside you begins this way.

He nuzzled his face into your neck while his left hand interlocked yours and his right snaked around your waist. Your scent flooded his nostrils, your perfume an intoxicating mixture of sandalwood, marshmallow, chocolate, and coffee. Bittersweet and sharp, the best way to describe it and it’s wearer. You whined softly as his lips moved over your neck, soft licks and bites peppered between kisses.

“If you keep this—mhm—up any longer, anywhere decent to eat will close.” You failed to stifle a moan as his hand gripped your ass in the middle of your protest. “Let me shower and we’ll go.” Your right hand had found its usual home in his hair and as you pulled away you cupped his face. He kissed your cheek and shooed you off to the bathroom.

Shishiba gripped your thigh as he drove through the foggy streets. Once you two arrived at the restaurant he was the perfect gentleman, opening doors and pulling out your chair. The change of pace in men was refreshing. Sure, he enjoyed your body but he wasn’t disgusting about it and he wasn’t irredeemable like the men you usually see on the other side of the table. In fact, he was so sweet in secret that he made sugar look like salt. You had decided to order some lily raspberry sake for yourself since you didn’t have to see the ceo again for a few days. Shishiba didn’t think you drank at all, so this made him curious.

“Is it good?” He asked as you lifted the cup from your lips.

“Very, I’ll have to pace myself.”

“Lightweight?”

You gave him a soft “mhm” as you took another sip. Maybe you’d become surprisingly honest and he could ask you to give him exactly what he wanted. You two continued to talk and laugh even on the walk back to the car. It felt like a real date to both of you, but you wouldn’t be the first to admit it. As he opened the car door so you could get in, you ran your index finger across his jaw and gently traced a small circle around his scar. He didn’t want to, but he pulled away from your touch and stared at you hard. The immediate pout you gave him nearly disarmed him though.

“Don’t look at me like that. Someone could see us.”

“Who cares who sees anything?” You locked eyes with him and watched his cheeks turn light pink.

“You’re drunk. Get in the car, please.” You pouted again but complied. He shut the door and got in the driver’s seat. He didn’t reach for the keys or anything—he just stared at the steering wheel for a second. You got nervous that pretending to be more intoxicated than you actually were was backfiring, so you went to tell him but he cut you off with a confession of his own.

“I… Will you talk to me the way you do your targets?” He blurted out but didn’t look at you. Now you feel like maybe you did drink too much.

“What do you mean?” You tiled your head in genuine curiosity and reached out to touch him so he’d look at you.

“You know. The way you talk to them with desire and passion…” He looked like he was asking you to do something so unspeakable. It made you giggle a bit.

“You want me to be sweet to you?” You had a fire building in the pit of your stomach, you let genuine desire coat your throat before you spoke again. “Oh, Shishiba… why didn’t you ask me sooner? You know I’ll do anything you ask me.” You let lust soak every last bit of your speech and his reaction was priceless.

“Yknow… you’re really dangerous.”

That’s all he could manage to say before his lips crashed against yours. Your tongues didn’t dare part before it was necessary. You slid across the bench seat to snuggle into his arm, making sure to gently press your breasts into him. He started the car and drove in the direction of the safe house. He had his right arm around your shoulders, occasionally ghosting his fingers over your neck—he knew that teasing touches really turned you on and the sake wasn’t helping at all.

“Shishiba,” you cooed up at him. “I can’t wait, will you pullover?”

His eyes flicked towards you and then back to the road. His silence was deafening and that intense look on his face made you squeeze your thighs together in hopes of getting some relief. His fingers brushed over your neck and ear again as the car peeled onto the gravel of the roadside. He cut the headlights off and then turned to face you completely. His expression was hard to read. The eyes were still lustful but his telltale smirk was nowhere to be found. You reached for him and he grabbed your hand only to set it down on the seat with his loosely in it. A sigh left him and you could feel rejection threatening to bubble up in you when he finally spoke again.

“You remember the rules we agreed to follow with each other? What’s gotten into you?” He wasn’t actually scolding you but it sure felt like it. You had two options now: answer him seriously or double down on his request.

“Nothing besides you,” you replied while looking at him through your lashes. “Maybe we should change the rules. Or just break them.” You let your fingers dance against the palm of his hand. Everything about you made it hard for him to think rationally. His eyes roved over your face and body with more feelings than he’d ever had before.

“Then let’s start with the one that keeps me from telling you,” In one fluid motion he had a grip on your chin and was running his thumb over your bottom lip. “How beautiful you look when you beg me not to stop.”

He kissed you before you could say anything else. Hands roamed your body hungrily and squeezed away as they traveled to your chest. His words made your entire body hotter than the sake did. You leaned against him and spread your legs more, hoping he’d read your mind. He laughed at your desperation for his touch. He gave you the relief you wanted, slipping his fingers past your panties and swiping them over your clit and folds.

“You’re soaked already. Did you miss me that much?” He chuckled lowly as you moaned in reply. Once he slipped his fingers inside, you knew it’d be a long time before you made it back to the safe house.

[i-arch-my-backula]

Immortal Lovers chapter three

Hello everyone, sorry about the delay in getting this (and any) writing out. Everything with the election and also some personal family stuff got in the way. Anyway I hope to have another chapter for this fic out by Christmas or even sooner. Also this chapter has some smut at the very end that isn't super important. But otherwise the rest of this chapter is sfw.

Content Includes: Google translated French, anal sex, oral sex, M/M/M threesome, reader is a bottom

‘You don’t have to act around us cheri’ The words echo and bounce around in your mind, creating this endless chatter with all these other words filling your head. You visited Louis and Lestat four days ago but you haven’t stopped thinking about them since. They haven’t tried to reach out and you haven’t either. If they really could read your mind then they know by now what you are. 

“Are you alright?” Mary Ann asks, looking at you from across the table at the restaurant where the two of you are sitting. You hum and raise your brows while looking at her. She still doesn’t know that you’re attracted to men, but you don’t know if you’ll ever build up the courage to actually tell her that. You just sip on your coffee and flash her a smile. 

“Oh yes I’m fine. Just had to work late last night ironing all these suits for my boss.” You say with a chuckle. She smiles back and nods her head, sipping on her own tea. 

“Well I heard there’s a performance happening soon. This wonderful singer is coming all the way here from New York. Well she’s going around the whole country but she’s coming here and performing for a couple of nights. She’s a jazz singer and I’ve heard she’s phenomenal.” Mary Ann says, setting down her cup and looking around at the people walking by this cafe during a cool afternoon. 

“We should go see her perform then. What’s her name?” You ask, pulling out a pen and a small slip of paper. Mary Ann fishes inside her purse and pulls out a flier filled with tour dates and names of cities. 

“Her name is Julia Scott. She’s coming here in a couple of days and I think they’re already selling tickets for her show, down at the theater she’ll be singing in.” Mary Ann says, handing  you the flier. Taking it from her hand you write down the date and theater the show will be taking place. You smile and hand her back the flier. “We should probably get the tickets early so we aren’t stuck waiting in a long line for hours only to not get to see her or something. 

“Can you buy tickets early? I wasn’t really aware you could do that.” You say, drinking more of your coffee, wiping off your mouth with a napkin. Mary Ann nods her head and folds up the flier, putting it in her pocket book. 

“At least that’s what I heard you can do with this show. I’m not too sure about other things but for this you can get tickets in advance. But I think you can do that with other things too.” She says, sipping more of her tea before setting down the cup. “I think rich folks do it all the time with the opera and plays and whatever else they watch instead of working.” She says with a chuckle, making you chuckle too. 

You feel a pair of eyes on you, ones that aren’t Mary Ann’s. Looking around the cafe you don’t see anything unusual. Some people smoking, eating, drinking coffee and tea. One man has his face hidden behind a newspaper. But he’s just reading it. What’s so strange about that? You look away from the crowd and go back to speaking with Mary Ann. 

“We should go do that. Get those tickets for her show, maybe even see a silent film while we’re at the theater. I have some errands I need to run too and I don’t feel like doing them alone if you want to tag along with me for today.” You say, pulling out a couple dollars for your coffee and Mary Ann’s tea. She smiles and stands up, finishing off her tea. 

“Oh that sounds great. I’d hate to waste today being alone. Being a librarian I spend enough time alone as it is. I’ve probably got more dust in my lungs than I do actual air.” She jokes, pushing in her chair as you push in yours, the two of you leaving the cafe, the man reading the newspaper folding it up and setting it down on his table. 

Making your way through town you stop at a grocery store, picking up more razor blades for your shaving. You pay the cashier your couple of cents and Mary Ann keeps the razors in her purse as the two of you head back out into town. 

“Do you need to get anything done today? Get your permanent wave set again or something?” You ask, giving her a small grin. She rolls her eyes and scoffs. 

“Being a woman in today’s society is hard enough as it is. Can you really blame me for wanting to keep myself looking as presentable as possible? Especially when a friend of my mothers runs a beauty salon and she gives me a discount when I go in to get my haircut and nails painted and permanent waves? Getting these curls is such a difficult task, I don’t understand how anyone can do it on their own unless they’re a hair stylist.” She says, crossing her arms over her chest. 

You just laugh and pat her shoulder, shaking your head a little. 

“I didn’t mean to be rude, Mary Ann. I’m sorry that I made you upset. But can you really blame me for teasing you just a little bit about just how much you care about your appearance?” You ask, your tone is still light and a bit giggly. She shakes her head and slaps your arm playfully. 

“I swear that you’re going to make my hair turn gray Y/N.” She says. But soon the two of you reach the theater you were speaking about earlier and you go up to the box office, getting two tickets for Julia Scott’s performance, and two tickets for a film. You walk inside and sit down together in the dark quiet theater, enjoying the movie. 

When you emerge from the theater the sun is starting to set. But that doesn’t stop the two of you from keeping up this day of fun. So the two of you set out into a park, talking about the movie you saw. Then, once you two run out of things to say about that movie, you go onto talking about life. 

“So not to brag or nothing, but you know that my father is a big business man. He’s business partners with this other man on this new automobile company. You’ve seen them being driven around town everywhere and stuff. And because he helped me get myself a job I’m thinking about buying myself a home.” She explains to you, pushing her scarf over her shoulder.

“Really?” You ask, she hums in response and nods her head. “So you’re really serious about buying a home here Mary Ann?” You ask again, putting your hands in your coat pockets. She beams widely and nods her head, slipping on her gloves.

“Why yes I am. Now I know they won’t exactly just let me buy it, because I’m a woman, but I can assure you that my father is going to help me with this. I’ve already found the most wonderful little house, nothing huge but for my first home of my own it’s going to be great.” She says in a chirpy tone, adjusting her gloves. You chuckle and nod your head, looking around casually at the park around the two of you. 

“Well I wish you the best of luck with this little endeavor of yours. I need to save up for a couple more years before I can even start to come close to-” You cut yourself off, hearing something behind you. Footsteps, nothing wrong with that, nothing out of the ordinary with that. But it’s just you and Mary Ann out here, you haven’t actually seen anyone else out here for you don’t know how long. 

“Is everything alright?” She asks, looking at you with raised eyebrows. You keep listening to the sounds of footsteps. You’re walking, you can hear that. Marry Ann is walking, you can hear that. Then there’s another person walking. It’s probably nothing, your mind is just telling you the worst case scenario or something. But to be safe you look over your shoulder and find someone walking behind you, someone whose face is hidden behind the brim of a hat. They seem oddly familiar to the person you saw earlier at the cafe. 

Mary Ann looks behind you too and sees what you see. She grabs your arm in her hand and pulls you closer together with her.

“I’ve seen him lurking around your apartment. We should get back to town.” She whispers to you. You nod your head and link arms with her formally, walking together, trying to ignore the presence of the mystery man behind the two of you. But the silence between you and Mary Ann makes your ears ring so you start talking again. 

“Did I tell you I bought a gun recently?” You ask, keeping your voice at a normal tone, not caring if this mystery man hears you or not. You need to let Mary Ann know at the very least. She shakes her head and keeps walking, her slightly heeled shoes clicking against the pavement of the park path as you two round a corner, seeing the shining lights of the city up ahead. 

“You haven’t told me that yet but I think it’s a wonderful idea. You can never be too careful around here, especially with all this crime recently. But it’s not as bad as other places in this country I’ve heard about. So many big cities are always having trouble with crime.” She says, holding onto your arm tighter as the footsteps of the man following behind you can still be heard. 

“Well it just comes with the territory I guess. More people means more things are bound to happen. But safety is important to me. Maybe you should look into getting one too. Just to be safe. I’m sure your father would approve of it.” You say, walking closer to the edge of the park until you finally reach the sidewalk outside of it. The footsteps of the mystery man behind you die off and you feel the pressure of held in air leaving your lungs. 

You and Mary Ann turn the conversation over to who that man could be, what he could want from either of you. 

“Maybe he’s after me since my father has that new business and stuff. You know, kidnapping the daughter of a rich man to get some ransom money.” She says, unlinking arms with you as you walk up the steps towards your apartment. You get to the door and see another note taped there. You look at Mary Ann who shares your anxious expression. You slowly pick up the paper and flip it open. 

Dear Y/N, 

We’ve been a bit disappointed at your disappearance after our conversation from almost two weeks ago. We hope that you’d like to join us again tonight, maybe bringing Mary Ann along if she’d like to come as well. 

Sincerely, Louis De Pointe Du Lac and Lestat De Lioncourt

“Are you up for another little adventure tonight?” You ask, handing over the paper to Mary Ann, letting her read it. A smile creeps onto her face, soon blooming into a full, toothy grin. She takes your hand and leads you back down the stairs, heading out the door of your apartment building again. 

After more excited chatter from her you reach Louis and Lestat’s townhouse. You ring the doorbell, looking over at Mary Ann who’s still grinning from ear to ear. 

“I can’t wait to see how they decorate inside. Maybe I can get some tips from the two of them.” She says with a chuckle. You chuckle back and soon Lestat opens the door. He smiles at the two of you and steps aside, letting you both in. 

“What a pleasure to see the two of you again. I’m so happy you could join us tonight, Mary Ann.” He says, leading you two inside. Louis is sitting on one of the couches in the parlor, smiling as the two of you walk in. 

“I’m happy to see that you two have made it.” He says, getting up and shaking both of your hands. Lestat takes your coats before you and Mary Ann sit down on the couch across from Louis. 

“Oh, your house is just wonderful.” Mary Ann says, crossing her legs as she looks around the parlor. “I love how luxurious everything here feels. All of the wood, and the colors. It makes me happy just being in a room like this.” She says with a beaming smile. Louis smiles back as Lestat enters the room. 

“Yes, well Lestat is the one who did most of the decorating here. He has a keen eye for designs.” Louis says as Lestat walks around the room, moving over to the fireplace, a couple of logs burning inside. 

“Some of this has come with me from Paris. Others have been acquired from my years of living here. All of it I enjoy.” He says, straightening a little wooden box on the fireplace mantel. You nod your head and lean back on the couch. You don’t pay much attention to what Louis, Lestat, and Mary Ann are discussing as your mind starts to wander. Their home smells wonderful tonight. Something warm and inviting. Like someone has just finished baking something. 

Then your mind wanders to the suits that Louis and Lestat are wearing, perfectly tailored to their bodies, accentuating their builds. As your eyes move back to Louis, you can’t help but wonder what lies under his clothes. Your eyes glance at Lestat, then down to his lower half, wondering what lies under his clothes too. 

‘Whatever you want and more.’ He says without moving his lips, giving you a wink while watching the conversation between Louis and Mary Ann. You’re brought out of your little daydream and return to what she is saying. 

“But I never knew that so many talented artists lived so close to home. So I had to convince my father and friends to go out and support these people. I mean their art is just so incredible.” She says as Louis nods his head. Mary Ann clears her throat and stands up. “I need to power my nose, excuse me.” She says. 

“The bathroom is down the hall and to the left.” Louis says as Mary Ann nods. She leaves the parlor and the sound of her heels on the floor grow more and more distant until a door shuts. Slowly, Lestat walks behind you. The room takes on a new tenseness that makes it feel like it’s one gentle push away from snapping in half.

. 

“You’ve been avoiding us.” Lestat says, his hands moving to rub your shoulders. Louis just looks at you with his piercing green eyes, slowly unbuttoning his waist coat. You just sit there, dumbfounded, totally unsure of what to do. “Oh come now chéri, don’t be afraid. We don’t want to hurt you. We just want to talk with you. Find out why you’ve been avoiding us. Isn’t that right Louis?” He asks, both you and Lestat moving to look at the man on the other side of the room. 

Louis rises from his seat and nods his head, sitting down next to you as Lestat’s hands move to play with your hair. 

“If you’re worried about what we did together the last time you were here I can promise you that we didn’t mean to scare you. You’re just a very handsome man,” Louis raises his hand to cup your cheek, his thumb running over your bottom lip. “We just wanted you to know that we’re interested.” You can feel yourself getting drawn into whatever these two men are trying to pull on you. Whatever kind of thing they want from you, you can’t resist. 

So slowly you open your mouth and let Louis put his thumb inside. You start to suck on it as Lestat unbuttons your waistcoat, that anxiety from before pushed aside for the pleasure you’re about to receive. You move your arms as Lestat slides your waistcoat off, his hands moving to his own coat and shirt. Louis’ thumb is replaced by his lips and you two begin to kiss, his lips cold and tasing a bit metallic. But you don’t mind as your hands undo your shirt and Louis undoes his. 

Eventually, you pull away, looking up at Lestat, who’s now taking off his belt, then back down at Louis.

“What about Mary Ann?” You ask, Lestat drops his pants and undershorts in reply, exposing his body. But Louis’ answer is more verbal. 

“Don’t worry about her. She won’t come in on us.” Then he leans in again and starts to kiss you. Lestat comes around behind you and starts to undo your belt, mumbling French into your ear. 

“Tu vas le prendre comme un bon garçon, n'est-ce pas ? Soyez si bon pour Louis et moi. Vous pouvez le faire. Vous vous sentirez si bien. Nous avons de tels sites à vous montrer.” He says, the words vibrating in your ear as his lips move down to your neck. He bites you slightly, drawing a little blood. You grunt at the sudden prick but the pain quickly subsides as Lestat takes his teeth out of your neck. 

Lestat slides off your pants and underclothes as Louis slides off his own, the three of you now naked together in their parlor. Louis is already hard, his hand pumping his length as you look down at it. Slowly you move your face towards it. Head down ass up. You look up at Louis as your lips hover over his tip. He gives a nod of his head and you move your mouth over his length, shutting your eyes. He lets out a grunt and puts a hand on the back of your head to guide you. 

“Yeah~ Thats it~ Fuck~” He grunts, savoring your mouth on his cock. Lestat moves away momentarily before returning. 

“Are you open for another tonight Mon cher?” He asks, slowly pouring a warm oil over your waiting hole. By the smell of it, it’s liquid coconut oil. You moan around Louis cock and Lestat gives you a small, sharp, spank. “Use your words.” He says, using his fingers to rub the oil around your waiting area. 

You momentarily move your mouth off of Louis’ cock. “I want you to fuck me Lestat.” You say, looking back at him. He smiles and nods his head. As you go back to Louis, you feel two fingers penetrate you. You moan around Louis’ cock as Lestat starts with his slow movements, easing you in, getting you ready. What a gentleman. 

As Louis’ grunts and groans get deeper Lestat slowly pushes himself into you. You moan again around his cock as Lestat goes slow and steady, making sure you’re comfortable as he slides in and out of you. 

“My boys seem to be enjoying themselves.” Lestat teases, his words laced with his moans as he slowly picks up the pace, working into a comfortable rhythm with your motions on Louis. 

“Il est très bon. Il faudra qu'il vous le montre un jour.” Louis says in a teasing tone to Lestat. The blonde chuckles and gives you another little spank, earning another moan from you. 

“Je ne peux pas attendre.” Lestat replies, his movement as he works making you go weak in the knees, your mouth working harder around Louis’ cock. He groans and moves one of his hands onto your shoulder, the grip tight. You can taste his precum as his eyes shut and Lestat keeps up his movements. Soon enough Louis thrusts his hips into your face harder as he comes. Lestat slows his movements for a moment as you swallow and pull yourself off of Louis. Adjusting your position, Louis having it so that your face rests against his chest, Lestat starts up again. 

You moan and pant, your eyes half shut as Lestat moves his hips forwards and back, his own arousal present too. Both men are cold to the touch, but to you, in that moment, they felt like a warmed blanket on a cold winter day. It’s not long before you feel your orgasm coming. 

“Oh fuck~ Oh yeah~ Don’t stop~” You moan as soon enough you hit your peak and you come, Lestat following soon after. Louis slides some of your hair out of your face while Lestat pulls himself out of you. He grabs a rag and wipes himself clean.

“Relax your body now. You don’t want to pull a muscle.” Lestat says, lowering your ass to the couch so you lay with Louis. Lestat comes around to the other man. Louis adjusts for him and the three of you sit together, coming down from your highs. 

[dustofthedailylife]

It's Always Darkest Before The Dawn

Chapter 4 - Revelations

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Summary: You’re a Fatui Agent, tasked with assassinating the one man who three years ago had almost succeeded to shatter the entire organization out of sheer hatred and thirst for vengeance. The best way to get close to someone? You make them fall in love with you - only that you didn’t plan on catching feelings yourself.

Pairing: Diluc x Fatui! Reader (gn)

Chapter Tags: Swearing, mentions of blood, wounds and assassinations

A/N: *rises from the grave* I finally finished Chapter 4. I hope you enjoy it. I'll have exams until the beginning of March but after that I'll jump straight back into writing Chapter 5.

You had no idea how late it was when you opened your eyes. Still sleep-drunk, you scanned the surroundings that painted themselves in front of you. It seemed unfamiliar and your brain couldn't quite compute what was going on. All you knew was that this definitely wasn't your inn room.

You felt something heavy draped over your waist and upon further inspection, it turned out to be an arm that was lazily hanging over your midriff. The sudden realization that kicked in caused you to snap awake in an instant and made every last remnant of sleep leave your body at once. You shot up from the bed, forcefully yanking the arm away and pushing your pillow in the same direction.

Your sleep-induced confusion was quickly replaced by the memory of the night before. You were at the Dawn Winery and had come here to kill Diluc; which had horribly backfired, leaving you wounded and seemingly causing you to fall asleep in his bed of all places. And instead of sleeping somewhere else, he had nothing better to do than to stay by your side and even have the audacity to drape his arm over you and touch you. The mere thought of it made your skin crawl. Fucking pervert.

And speaking of, said pervert was staring back at you with half-lidded eyes and a confused and still sleep-drunk expression. It seems like you woke him up as you stirred awake and flung your pillow at his face.

"'m sorry.", he mumbled with drowsiness still lingering evidently in his voice. 

You watched as he lazily rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. His red locks messily cascaded down the sides of his head, framing his face perfectly. It almost made him look princely. But he was an aristocratic scum after all, so calling him that wasn’t even that off.

You felt the sudden urge to card through his mane with your fingers to feel the silky texture under your palm but you had enough willpower to keep yourself from doing so. Another win for your self-restraint. Also because you were awake enough again that your brain started to function properly so that you didn't make any rash decisions. On the other hand, maybe you could do it and act all lovey-dovey… but it was probably still too early for that in your “relationship”. You really didn’t want to swoon him whatsoever. Any minute spent with him was one minute of your life wasted that you’d never get back.

"You scared me, sorry.", you replied while trying your hardest to keep your temper at bay. The urge to throw the nearest object you could grab into his stupid and audacious face was certainly strong though.

Diluc sat up in bed and tied his hair into a messy bun with the hair tie he had put on his nightstand the night before.

"I shouldn’t just touch you. I'm the one who should be sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.", he apologized as he got up from the bed.

Well, he certainly fucking did though. Although you couldn't let it show, so you just decided to act shy. Made it seem as if you secretly liked it and waved it off as was nothing. Behaving this cutesy and interested in him made you want to retch, but a job was a job after all.

"Feel free to rest here a little while longer, I–"

He started to speak but promptly came rushing back to your side as soon as your hand shot up to your wound again. You hissed in pain as your head suddenly started throbbing again. It probably must've been from sitting up so fast when you were woken up rudely by someone coddling you in your sleep. 

You brushed over the band-aid on your forehead and felt dampness seep through it again, signaling you that it must’ve started to bleed again. Archons above, just how bad did he injure you?

"It started bleeding again.", he stated with a deep frown as he prepared another fresh band-aid for your wound. "Should I fetch a healer for this? Maybe–"

"No!", you exclaimed promptly. "No, I'm fine. It's not the first time I've been wounded."

"I– okay."

He furrowed his brows at your statement, giving you a sympathetic look that you desperately wanted to wipe off his face but couldn't. Yet, anyway. 

He skillfully replaced the band-aid and disinfected the wound once more before getting up again.

"This isn't the first time you patch someone up either, is it?”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Do people kiss your bedpost as I did more often or where does your experience come from?", you inquired sarcastically. You of course knew where he had the experience from but you couldn’t let that show.

“...no.”, he replied after a short moment of hesitation and pursed his lips. He directed his gaze to the ground and started playing with his thumbs as if he was looking for something to say. 

“Well, I’ll let you be for now. I’ll be downstairs if you need me. Rest up for a little while longer.”

You nodded hesitantly and watched as he got up from the bed, slowly closing the door behind him leaving you to your thought once more. 

The atmosphere in the room suddenly felt different. Despite the cozy atmosphere the warm sunlight that was seeping through the big windows in the room created, and the soft silken sheets on your skin, you felt bizarre. You were almost inclined to say ‘lonely’ but that would mean you had to admit you enjoyed Diluc’s presence. Which you certainly didn’t.

You sunk back into the pillows and felt a headache creep in as you closed your eyes again. Your eyelids drooped down as you gave into the sleepiness that still lingered in your system once more.

As soon as you woke up again that the sun was falling through the windows at a different angle than before. You assumed it must be past noon by now. Only Archons knew when you last slept for this long. 

The wound on your head still stung a little bit as you slowly got up from the bed but at least the pressure between your brows had eased and you felt fit enough to start your day.

You walked back to your room to slip on some of the fresh clothes you packed yesterday, before heading for the bathroom to look at the mess a certain redhead had made of your face.

You flipped the light switch next to the mirror in the bathroom and carefully started peeling off the band-aid just above your brow. You hissed in pain and immediately regretted trying to remove it slowly. You should’ve just ripped it off fast and clean instead, because, by the Seven, it would’ve been less excruciating. But what type of monster immediately rips off a band-aid?

You quietly winced in pain as you felt the sting of the wound tearing open once again. You took a mental note that this spot was probably one of the worst ones you had ever gotten injured in. 

The wound itself was maybe 2 centimeters long and the area around the wound was swollen and shaded in a disgusting dark rose-violet hue. Yes… this was definitely going to leave a scar. What a lovely little Mondstadt souvenir.

You opened the tap and carefully started rinsing your face. The cold water made the wound feel like it was on fire due to the warmth that emanated from it. You only hoped it wouldn’t get infected.

In search of another band-aid and disinfectant, you opened the bathroom cabinet. You sort of felt like you were intruding on Diluc’s privacy by peering inside. Not that you’d actually care, though. Because, why would you? 

Several fancy bottles, his toothbrush and -paste, hair ties, cufflinks, and some other bathroom utensils were lying inside. 

Your eyes traveled over the bottles and landed on an orange semi-translucent aftershave bottle that read “Noctua” on it. Your brain told you you shouldn’t indulge in your curiosity since it didn’t bring the mission forward. But for some reason, your rational thinking was thrown right out the window the moment you perceived the bottle. Your compulsive thoughts won and you therefore found yourself stretching your hand out to grab and open the bottle.

You hastily screwed the cap off and held it under your nose. Inhaling the scent you closed your eyes and flared your nostrils. You could make out what you thought were cinnamon and sandalwood notes but also something fresh and citrusy. Orange and cardamom maybe. You liked it. It smelled warm and cozy. It smelled like… Diluc.

The realization of what you were doing jolted you to your senses, causing you to flinch and nearly drop the bottle in the process. As if in a rush you screwed the aftershave shut again before placing it back into the cabinet with shaky hands. 

What the fuck? Get a grip, you idiot!

After hastily closing the cabinet, you splashed water on your face once more and rushed out of the bathroom. You couldn't afford to be confused about falling in love with him, because you weren’t. Maybe the concussion had messed with your head more than you realized.

You went back to the guest room to pack your bag, intending to return to the inn room in the city for the time being. After all, you had failed miserably at “executing” your job the night before.

You let out a long sigh as you contemplated having to explain why Diluc was still alive, despite the fact that you spent the whole night here. The Fatui had their eyes everywhere, so they were likely already aware of what had happened; or rather what hadn’t happened.

You flung your bag over your shoulder and walked downstairs and back outside. Luckily without running into Diluc or one of the maids. You didn’t really feel like talking to anyone right now. Whether it was because of your aching head or because you didn’t manage to kill a sleeping man, you didn’t quite know. All you knew was that you wanted this day to end already so you could start anew with a clear mind and a reworked plan.

The sky had filled with deep-hanging gray clouds and the sun that had fallen through the bedroom window earlier was nowhere to be found again. It looked like it was about to start raining any minute. Certainly fitting weather for your current mood.

As you walked down the path that led off the property and back to Mondstadt, your attention was drawn to a faint clinking noise. You couldn’t quite place what it was so you followed the sound to its source and soon saw Diluc mercilessly battering down some poor wooden training dummy with his sword.

He didn’t seem to have noticed you yet, so you decided to indulge in your curiosity to watch his movement for a bit. If last night wasn’t proof enough of it already, he was undeniably a skilled fighter. And contrary to your assumptions, he had definitely not become rusty or comfortable in his cushy manor. He knew how to swing a sword, that much was certain.

His posture and footwork were excellent, his breathing focused and steady, his eyes trained on his target at all times and never faltering. It almost looked like a dance. At least that was what you could judge with the little knowledge on combat you had. Because surprisingly, you may knew how to wield a sword, you just weren’t particularly good at it. Your expertise lay more in silent takedowns or spy-related work. And just look how much you excelled at that… not.

Lost in thought, you didn't notice that Diluc had turned around and was now facing in your direction until you came back to yourself. He raised his hand in a wave and gave you a small smile

“Are you already leaving?” he inquired, gracefully flinging his sword into the ground in a single swoop before making his way towards you. Leaning his forearms against the fence in front of you, he looked at you with these illegally stunning crimson eyes of his. A thin sheen of sweat from his training session covered his forehead and caused some of his hair to cling to his skin.

“U-uh, yes. I think I think it’s time for me to get back to my inn room.” you replied.

“Are you sure? I mean… you can gladly stay here for a little longer if you want. I assume it’s more comfortable to recover here than in some dusty inn room.” he replied. “Of course, that is just an offer, I don’t want to push you to do anything.”

“I guess it can’t hurt… well aside from my head.” you joked and forced a laugh.

At least this would give you another go at the mission that you had just horrendously failed at. You were going to take another approach now and would invest some more time to plan everything out.

So you were back to tile one: trying to make him fall in love with you. You were unsure why you even tried to deviate from that plan in the first place. Probably because you thought you’d just randomly get an opportunity like last night. One where you could get it over with quickly, without having to feign to be in love with your enemy. Alas, there seemed to be no better way still. So here you were, selling your soul for the greater good.

He jumped over the fence in a single fluid motion and began walking back to the main house of the Winery. 

You walked close behind him and without putting much thought into it, you reached out for his hand that was hanging by his side. You did it on impulse, hoping it would elicit some sort of reaction. You needed to find a way to get closer to him, and you figured being proactive may be the best approach. After all, you needed him to fall for you and ideally as fast as possible. 

As you Interlinked your fingers with his, you couldn’t help but notice the contrast in size between his hand and yours. His skin felt soft, despite how calloused his hands were from wielding his claymore. His palm felt warm, almost hot, against yours and you found yourself subconsciously tracing the veins on the back of his hand with your thumb.

You realized he had come to a halt, and when you looked up at him, you noticed a blush was beginning to bloom across his cheeks that even tinted his ears in a bright red. You quickly let go of his hand and feigned an awkward chuckle while looking down at your feet.

"I-I'm sorry… I don't know what got into me there."

“No, it’s alright. You can hold my hand… if it brings you comfort.” Diluc hesitantly replied, his face still a bright shade of red as he offered his hand to you once more.

Mischieviously smiling on the inside you reached out for his hand once more and allowed him to lead you wherever he had planned to go. You were pleased that your little ploy of flustering him had succeeded and he seemed to have taken the bait as well by offering his hand once more.

You soon settled onto the chair he had pulled out for you just outside of the back of the Dawn Winery. He disappeared through the back door of the Winery into, what you assumed, was a storage room. You heard him rummage around in there before he returned outside with two glasses and a clear bottle holding a rich red liquid.

“I’m not sure I should be drinking wine, my head is already hurting as it is.” you remarked half-jokingly which coaxed a chuckle out of Diluc. The soft sound reverberated through your body and unwillingly made your senses tingle.

“I don’t drink, remember?! he explained.

Oh, right. He did mention that.

“This is grape juice.”

With a gentle smile on his lips Diluc poured the deep red liquid into both glasses before sliding one in your direction. It smelled heavenly, as much as you hated to admit it because he made it. It tasted incredibly sweet, rich and flavorful, too.

You didn't realize that you had started smiling after taking a sip of the juice, and that you were now gazing at it with a look of adoration. It was only when you looked at Diluc again that you became aware of your expression since he was practically smugly smirking back at you.

“It’s good right?”

“It is!” you admit. “I can see why you’d prefer this stuff to wine.”

A stifling silence settled in between you and Diluc as both of you just quietly continued to sip their juice while avoiding to make eye contact. You considered breaking the silence by striking up a conversation in order to get closer to Diluc but your mind suddenly felt completely blank.

“Does it still hurt… your head, I mean?” Diluc suddenly broke the silence, giving you another one of these apologetic looks that made the aggression swell at the pit of your stomach again.

"It still hurts but I'll live. You got quite some moves. Seeing you wield that sword earlier certainly explained… this." you said while feigning amusement and pointing at the wound on your head.

"Yeah, old habits die hard, I suppose."

"Old habits?" you inquired but immediately regretted doing so as you noticed how Diluc's facial expression shifted to something more sinister. He averted his eyes and looked down at his glass.

"I’d rather not talk about it." he curtly responded, his voice devoid of any emotion.

Well, crap. That didn’t go as planned. Just as you had thought you had opened a crack in the icy wall he had built around himself you were immediately shut out again. You ahd made some progress in getting Diluc to talk to you, but it was clear that you still had a long way to go. This was going to be harder than you thought.

"I'm sorry." you ushered an apology before an awkward silence settled between you two once more. One that was even more unpleasant than the one before.

You emptied your glass in a single gulp before you got up from your chair with pursed lips and grabbed your bag.

"I'm going to empty my bag so that I have more space and then I’ll go pick up some more clothes from the inn." you stated.

"Yeah, of course. Shall I accompany you back to the Inn in case you need any help with pack–"

"No!!" you shot back a little harsher than you had intended which seemed to have also caught Diluc off guard. His mouth stood slightly ajar and he seemed unsure about how to react to your outburst.

"No… sorry, it's just… there are a lot of private things that mean a lot to me and I don't trust anyone but myself with them." you added, now in a much softer tone.

You weren't even entirely lying since there were indeed a lot of private things in your inn room. Only that except for little trinkets or keepsakes, it was valuable and top secret intel on Diluc himself instead. And you needed to prevent him from seeing it at all costs.

"Okay, no problem. I'll tell Adelinde to prepare dinner for when you're back. Any specific wishes?"

"I'm content with anything, really." you reply.

"Okay great." he smiled. "I'll see you later then."

"Yup, see you later, boss." you reply and playfully salute with a cheeky smile before rushing off. 

He gazed after you as if deep in thought before he slightly shook his head and smiled to himself as he let out a short amused huff.

You quickly ran up to the guest room to leave your things in the closet to make space in your backpack. But you soon ran into one problem you had forgotten about.

The dagger.

You didn’t want to take it back with you on the off-chance the guards at the Mondstadt city gate would want to control your backpack. They’d immediately identify it as a weapon from the Fatui since the emblem was on the handle of it as well.

Theoretically, you could just leave it here, right? Especially if you hid it where no one was likely to find it. You highly doubted anyone would walk into the rooms while you were staying in here anyway. But on the off chance someone did nonetheless, it’d probably be the best idea to hide it still.

You walked towards the bed and lifted the mattress up. There you carefully tugged the dagger under the hem of the contour sheet before slowly placing the mattress back down. This would do.

With that out of the way, you flung your now empty backpack over your shoulder and rushed back outside. 

It had begun to get dark by now. If you hurried a bit you could get back here before the night set in. 

The way back to Mondstadt was fairly quiet. And lucky for you, you didn’t take the dagger with you because the guards actually wanted to check your belongings before you could enter the city. Nice foresight on your part. You would definitely need to pat yourself on the back for that later.

Back at the inn, you grabbed fresh clothes and some other necessities you needed if you planned to stay a little while longer at the Winery. That’d last you for a little longer than a week you wagered. That should hopefully be enough time to make some progress with your relationship with Diluc. Naturally, you didn’t pack any of the piles upon piles of intel and information that were neatly stacked on your desk. For obvious reasons. You could always come back here if you needed to look at things again. Especially since you didn’t need to pay for the room anyway since the expenses were covered by the Fatui.

You threw one more glance at the table with all the intel before smiling to yourself. Soon you could leave all of this behind you again.

With newfound enthusiasm, you left and locked your room behind you before striding back to the Winery.

It had already become way darker outside during the time you were packing and it had also started to drizzle. That was your signal to hurry because you didn’t plan on getting drenched before dinner.

Diluc said Adelinde would prepare it for when you got back and you couldn’t help but wonder what she’d serve. Going off of how late she prepared tea for you last night you expected nothing short of a three-course meal. Something you had never had in your life, naturally. So you might as well indulge a little bit in the luxury that came with staying at a rich man’s place.

Your motive may be scummy but you were still only here for a job, and you would take every opportunity you were given to squeeze as much out of Diluc before ultimately finishing him off. It was okay to be egoistic at times. Not like Diluc was someone you had to pity in the first place going off of the things he had done.

As you walked through the woods that led back to the Winery, you took in some of the scenery around Mondstadt again and once again found yourself thinking that it was quite nice here. Maybe you could ask to be stationed here from time to time once you got back or maybe spend some vacation here to indulge in the local liquors. As a vacation spot it wasn’t that bad. Just a shame you’d never be able to drink that delicious grape juice again.

Lost in thought you didn’t notice that someone was following you in the shadows ever since you left Mondstadt. It wasn’t until you stopped for a moment to take in the scenery that you heard the quiet yet audible footsteps behind you.

You abruptly spun around, attempting to scan the area but much to your dismay the encroaching darkness and the dense foliage made it impossible to make anything out.

“Who is there?” you called out into the darkness. “Show yourself! I have to warn you though” I have a weapon and I’m not afraid to use it.”

“No, you’re not, agent. Otherwise, you would’ve been stopped at the city gates earlier.” the voice answered from beyond the shadows.

A tall, imposing, high-rank Fatui officer emerged from the trees. He walked up to you and stopped right in front of you. He radiated an air of authority and intimidation that almost made you flinch.

“What do you want?” you shot back coldly.

He crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked down at you with an icy-cold and calculating stare.

“Why is he still alive?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The Ragnvindr. You stayed the night. Why is he alive?”

As expected. The Fatui had their eyes everywhere and were always aware of all of your whereabouts.

“I already informed Pierro and the other Harbingers about my plan when I arrived in Mondstadt and they gave their blessings for it. It takes time to make some rich noble fall in love with you. Especially someone as closed off as this bastard. Give me the time I need and don’t pressure me.” you hissed.

“I’m just making sure you’re staying on track, agent.”

“Tch. What was I supposed to do? Stab him in his sleep, make a mess, and be the only suspect afterward. The blame would have immediately fallen on me if I did that. Just… let me do my job for fucks sake. I don’t need you people breathing down my neck all the time.”

“What happened to your face?”, he asked bluntly pointing to the wound on your forehead. Did he really just completely disregard what you had explained to him?

“I tripped. Is that all?” you inquired annoyed.

The eyes of the man in front of you stayed as cold and immovable as the frozen wastelands of Snezhnaya themselves before he ultimately nodded and vanished into the shadows without ushering another word.

You didn’t even realize how much tension had been in the air the entire time until he was gone. You clutched your hand over your chest because you noticed that your heart was beating violently against your ribcage. You simply couldn’t wait to command these sorts of people around as you pleased as soon as you were a Harbinger yourself. Then it would finally be you who everyone respected and feared.

Tch. Also, the amount of impatience the Fatui had with this mission anyway was ridiculous. You understood it to some extent, you wanted to see Diluc dead sooner rather than later as well but that didn’t mean you could just get reckless because of that. You wanted to get this mission done with the utmost perfection. In a way that it couldn’t be traced back to either you or the Fatui in general. And for that, they needed to give you the time you needed.

You gathered yourself and inhaled deeply a couple of times before you walked the remaining way back to the Winery. And you simply couldn’t wait to just stuff your face with a delicious meal right now because, by the Seven, you certainly deserved it after today.

You walked up the stone stairs, through the main door of the Winery, and set down your backpack by the door.

“I’m back!” you announced with a smile.

As you approached the table in the living room where Diluc and Adelinde were standing, their conversation came to a sudden halt. Adelinde seemed to be studying you with a cautious expression, but quickly averted her gaze when you looked at her and shifted her hands to her skirt in a seemingly ashamed manner. 

Diluc leaned on the table with his back facing you, but the pyro-wielder quickly glanced over his shoulder as soon as he heard your voice. He glared daggers at you in a manner that made the hairs on your neck stand on end.

You were immediately overcome with a sense of dread. Something had happened while you were gone, you just knew it.

“What’s wrong?” you carefully asked with evident unease in your voice.

Diluc slowly turned around, arms folded across his chest as he moved out of the way to reveal the table. He wordlessly gestured towards the spot on the table where he had been standing moments ago. What you saw immediately made panic rise up inside of your chest and you wanted nothing more than to drop dead on the spot.

“Care to explain what a Fatui dagger was doing under your mattress?”

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[somehowmags]

also honestly, girl at an all boys school has been such a common trope for YEARS like. i know not everyone is insane like i was and went through a gacha phase but the fandom was literally 1/5 built off a girl mc in an all boys school trope. obviously we were all kids when we made it so gacha mvs weren't the best for the portrayal of nuanced, gendered issues or specifically, proper handling of misogyny for the matter but like. the theme itself definitely not weird as bad as people think. yuu literally got their asscheeks yoinked to an alternate world them being a girl is the least of their concerns. if any thing, it can be more interesting to see how characters differently interact with yuu and come to build positive, intimate and meaningful relationships with her especially as guys who have had limited interactions with girls, so both yuu and the characters learn from each other putting aside the main character development in the storyline. adding onto the feeling of the divide yuu would feel at the beginning as someone who's both from another world and of another gender in nrc. these girl in an all boys school plots often end up as a harem story where the mcs are just a blank slate in the character drama. and i hate it cause most of the times it ends up perpetuating the notion that guys can never be friends with girls due to romantic or sexual interest electing the girls as either someone to possess in a relationship or someone not suited to them at all, just generally being misogynistic pricks, or actually being a decent friend to a girl is humiliating and a sign of inferiority. or girls just aren't as interesting. my best friend is the lesbian to my gay twink and building relationships with people fundamentally different than you can be so, so beautiful and fulfilling. i love seeing girls and guys just being HOMIES!!! seeing fem yuu's learn and stumble and grow with the nrc and just. overall people drawing and writing their yuu's with their favorite character is like fuck, speak your truth man. to be honest i was mainly speaking about the inexperienced first years but just any character. malleus, lilia, vil, etc etc. let's go yuu nation

tdlr its a really intriguing dynamic and allows for a lot of possibilities a fan could think of. masc yuu's are great, gn yuu's are great, fem yuu's are great. some twsties need to LET OTHER twsties just enjoy their whimsical thoughts.

YES YES YES YES EXACTLY AGREEING WITH ALL OF THIS!!!! having a girl in an all boys school or a boy in an all girls school has been a trope for years, and sure sometimes it is used for uh. fanservice. but when it is properly explored it can be a really interesting trope!

i saw someone say once (before yuuka came out) that there shouldn't be an official fem yuu because then the studio would HAVE to canonize a yuu ship which is soooooo. firstly why would having a fem mc mean that you have to ship them with someone, and secondly what about the studio implies that they would ever do that, and thirdly what an ass backwards misogynistic take, and fourthly you have to understand that f/m and f/f ships are not lesser than m/m. please LKAHSDFLKASDHFLKH the lengths people go to to justify not liking fem yuus. i laugh but it sucks going in the twst tags sometimes because people are so mean its depressing.

nyeah i feel like fandom is a bit like. too romance focused. people can do whatever the hell they want forever ofc! i like shipping also! i am known to enjoy an reader insert fic! i buy romance novels and play otomes all the time ajksldfhlakshdfasldhf but it sucks when its all that there is yknow. i love pushing dolls faces together to make them kiss but sometimes i would also like to play something else.

i also wish there was less disdain towards different yuus. like man we're all stuck in disney anime boy hell can't you guys suffer with dignity like the rest of us instead of being mean. we should all hold hands and imagine our favorite characters together.