#none will be free until the old ways are gone forever

[iamsherlocked-1998]

Say it louder! This reflection is perfect, both realities coexist and are not exclusive.

“Din Djarin’s identity as a Mandalorian will always be central to his character, and his devotion to his orthodox religion, warrior’s creed, and its chivalrous code of honor is a truly noble one.”

and

“Din Djarin’s devotion to his creed has fundamentally isolated him from love, his role as The Tribe’s breadwinner was as unsustainable as it gave him purpose, and the fierceness of his faith stems from unprocessed trauma and the guilt he feels as an orphan and a foundling. His views on what it means to be a Mandalorian were narrow until he met others who didn’t conform to his own creed, and in this, his status as an voluntary oathbreaker is equally as integral to his character.”

…are both takes that co-exist in my mind.

[golbrocklovely]

careful what you wish for // sam and colby (pt. 5)

A/N: hey yall… long time no see with this fic. so, i'm gonna be honest with you, this one is rough in about every way you can imagine. idk why i felt the need to do all of this in this fic, but just be prepared when you read it. thank you for all of the love and support you guys have given me on this fic and the past 12 nights of other content I've been giving you. it means the world to me that you guys continue to stick around and read my shit lol thanks again, lmk what you think, and happy halloween !!

prompt: it's been a year since you last saw sam and colby. you hit up jess, your friend, to see if she can give you the magic spell book to finally get rid of them. but sam and colby know your plan, and they won't be taking this attempt to kill them too kindly. || vampire!sam and demon!colby x fem!reader

trigger warning: SMUT, like…. so much smut, supernatural powers being used on you, coming on command, multiple orgasms for Y/N, snc are fucking MEAN in this so just a forewarning, very possessive, you're being punished for being a bad girl, edging, watching sam fuck jess your bestie, don't worry she ends up not being real lol, cursing, magic, degrading and praising language, cliffhanger ending??, mentions of: princess, baby girl, good girl, slut, plaything, toy, sex doll, a lot of OURS mentions too, snc threaten you a bunch as well but flip back and forth between being nice and mean, dubcon just to be safe… so if none of that sounds like something you want to read turn back now :)

word count: 5945

You took a deep breath, stepping out of the uber. You strutted into the bar, anxiety hitting you once inside. You searched around, until finally stopping on Jess. You waved, walking over to her.

She stood up, giving you a quick hug, "Wow, Y/N. It's been so long! How have you been? You look great."

"Thanks, Jess. I know, it feels like forever since we last saw each other." You answered honestly.

"Yeah, I think the last time was..." Her voice trailed off, thinking.

"The book." You deadpanned.

She nodded, "Right. The book."

You sat down, your eyes looking her over, "Speaking of, do you have it?"

"Of course. I saw your text to bring it so I did." She pulled it out, sliding it across the table. It still looked the same, leather bound and old, and the sight of it made your heart flutter.

You sighed, "I appreciate you doing this. I wasn't sure if you were still mad at me from last time or-"

"No, no. I shouldn't have gotten so upset with you. Obviously, if someone had told me a magic book was going to make me a boyfriend, I too would have thought they were crazy," Jess laughed. "Well, I guess in your case, two boyfriends."

"Yeah about that... that's why I need this book." You admitted.

"You want to get rid of them? Why?" She asked, leaning in.

"They've been gone for a while now. They pop into my dreams, but haven't been around in about a year. The last time I saw them..." Your mind flooded with the previous time, months back, of them fucking you in front of all your coworkers. None of them remembered the next day, but you did. The images alone made it hard to look anyone in the eye anymore. Your face heated up, "I'll just say it was the last time I truly wanted to see them. They have gone too far and I just don't know how much more I can take from them."

Her expression softened. "I can only imagine what dating a vampire and a demon would be like."

"Dating is the nicest way to describe what we have. It's more of a... free use situationship." You huffed, "But I can't deal with it anymore. I want a normal life, no matter what they claim."

"What do they say?" She inquired. 

"They say I enjoy this, what we do. And while that is true to some extent, I can't keep living like this. I mean, how much longer am I supposed to keep having them show up randomly in my life to fuck my brains out? Sure, I enjoy it in the moment, but afterwards I feel embarrassed." You divulged, lowering your eyes to the table.

"I mean, if you like it you shouldn't feel ashamed." She remarked.

"Well, I do. And I just want them gone. I think I've paid my dues back entirely to this book." You gaze down at it, stroking the cover, "I'm sorry. Please help me get rid of them."

She snickered, "How about we don't do that in the middle of this bar?"

"That's probably a good idea." You placed the book next to you, exhaling. "So, how has your dating life been since the book shut? Please tell me it went back to normal so that I might have something to look forward to."

"Oh yeah, it's been normal alright. Some highs, some lows." She chuckled, "Speaking of, I actually invited one of the guys I've been seeing to come here."

"That's cool. Is he nice?" You questioned.

"Yeah, super sweet. And he plans to bring his best friend with him. So, if you wanna stick around and meet him, maybe you can start this new chapter sooner rather than later?" She suggested, beaming mischievously.

You shrugged, "Sounds good to me. Let's get a drink first though."

"Already ordered. Should be here... now." Jess smiled at the waitress, who placed down two drinks. "Thank you."

You raised your drink, "Cheers... to new beginnings."

"Cheers." She raised her glass, clinking it with yours. You both sipped on your drinks, nodding at the taste. Jess' phone buzzed on the table, she glanced down and beamed. "Oh, they're here."

You nodded, waiting uncomfortably. You weren't sure if you were really in the mood to meet these two new guys, but you figured you'd stay to finish your drink and then leave. No harm, no foul.

"Hey baby girl, how you doing?" A familiar voice spoke, walking up to Jess and embracing her.

You glanced up. Your stomach dropped and your heart sped up. This can't be happening.

"Hey Sam. This is my friend Y/N." Jess introduced.

"Hello, nice to meet you." Sam grinned, then pointed next to you. "And this is my friend Colby."

"Hi." Colby stated simply, locking eyes with you. His face was cold, with just a hint of a devilish glint.

You shuttered a breath, chest heavy. "There's no fucking way..."

"What? What's wrong?" Jess furrowed her brow.

"I-I, I can't do this. No. I absolutely won't do this." You slid out of your seat, shoving Colby and walking towards the bathrooms. You could hear them call after you, but you ignored them. You needed to leave, you knew that. But you wanted to just be away from them for a moment to get your bearings.

You stumbled into the bathroom, locking yourself in a stall. You took some deep breaths, trying to calm yourself. You were okay, you were in control, and there was no way that this was going to start up again. Sam and Colby were just fucking with you, once again, and you were not going to allow that to happen. You had the book, and so you-

FUCK, the book! The book was still on the table.... now with Sam and Colby.

You covered your face with your hands, muffling a scream of frustration. You grunted, pushing the stall door open and exiting the bathroom.

You stomped back into the bar, freezing the moment you did. The table was empty, Jess, the boys, and the book were nowhere to be found. There was, however, a small note on the table. You grabbed it, reading it quickly.

If you want to see the book again, come to the back of the bar.

- Sam and Colby

You spun on your heel, retracing your steps. You passed the bathrooms, continuing to walk down the hallway. You had been to this bar a couple times before, knowing that the back area was for special occasions, parties. As you drew closer to the room, you noticed the red lights illuminating the hallway and door. You swallowed hard, turning the knob and stepping into the room.

It was dark, and very hard to make out anything in it. You knew there were tables and chairs around, but you didn't see any from the little vision you had. You raised your hand, trying to feel around for a light switch or something. Suddenly, you felt a hand grab you, shoving you down onto a soft surface. You fought against their hold; pushing, shoving. But it didn't stop them from wrapping something tight around your wrists, pulling them away from your body. You cursed out whoever was touching you, kicking them hard. They had no reaction to you, just pushing your legs back down onto the surface.

The lights in the room turned on. You blinked rapidly, looking around quickly. You were on a bed, tied to the bedpost by your wrist. At the end of the bed stood Sam and Colby, smiling at you.

"Princess, so glad you could join us." Colby quipped.

Sam nodded, "We've missed you so much."

"Fuck you! What the hell is this shit for?" You yelled, shaking against your binds.

"You know, we could ask you the very same thing about..." Colby pulled the book out from behind his back, "This."

"Care to explain why you have this?" Sam asked innocently.

"Just gonna do some light reading." You sneered.

Colby rolled his eyes, "You don't really have room to play coy with us, Y/N. You might want to start explaining yourself."

"I have nothing to say to you." You spat.

"Is that so? Then I guess you're okay with this." Sam pulled out a silk cloth. You glared at him and the fabric, confused. He slid up the bed, taking the cloth and wrapping it around your head, covering your mouth. You tried to fight against him, but with your arms tied there wasn't much you could do besides rock your body side to side.

"As much as I love your little moans and whimpers, you not being able to talk gets me going just as much." Sam teased, his voice low in your ear.

You rolled your eyes and watched him slithered back down to the end of the bed.

"Now that we've got your complete attention, let's start. First off, princess, how dare you?" Colby scoffed. "We've done nothing but make your life better and this is the thanks we get? You, trying to get rid of us? Bad girl."

"Even though we haven't been around, we have been watching you. And we heard about your little plan to cut us loose. How exactly did you think that would play out for you?" Sam demanded.

Colby stepped closer, glaring down at you. "Do you remember what we said last time? You're ours. We own you. What about that screams 'I have a choice'?"

Sam leaned against the bedpost, "Well, she does have a choice. She just realistically won't make the one that actually sends us away."

"You're right, Sam. You know why? Because she enjoys this. Us. What we do to her." Colby chuckled darkly.

"Exactly. And God knows, if she saw us with someone else, she would lose her mind." Sam taunted.

You grunted against the gag, angrily.

"What was that sweetheart? You're gonna have to speak up." Colby sassed, his eyes cold.

You glared daggers at Colby, cursing him out loudly in your head.

"Ooh, harsh words from such a sweet girl." He slid his hand over his chest, "If I had a heart, it would be broken."

"I have one... It doesn't beat, though. But if it did, it would beat only for you." Sam fluttered his eyelashes at you jokingly.

"Always the romantic, Sam." Colby exhaled, "Anyway, how about we test out our theory? Would you do the honors?"

"Sure." Sam turned to the door, calling, "Jess! Come on out."

Colby narrowed his eyes, mumbling. "I could have yelled for her."

Jess stepped into the room, slowly walking over and standing in between Sam and Colby. Your heart sped up, gazing back and forth between her and them. Was she under their spell? Why was she not reacting?

He pointed between the two of them, "Do you wanna go first or-?"

Sam agreed, "You go ahead. I am the one that's been dating Jess."

"That's true. Jess?" She turned to Colby, her glassy eyes reflecting in the lights. "Start sucking his dick."

Jess nodded, dropping to her knees instantly and undoing Sam's pants. You gasped against the gag, looking away as best you could.

"No no, princess. You need to watch. This is your punishment, after all." Colby marched up to you, turning your head to them. His eyes snaked over your face, smirking. "If looks could kill… I'd be dead again. But anyway, keep looking at them."

Your eyes locked onto Jess and Sam, widening as you realized you couldn't look away.

"Happy Halloween, babe." He warned cockily, "Remember... I'm a lot stronger tonight. And so is Sam."

Jess' head bobbed up and down on Sam's cock, slurping and sucking noises falling from her lips. Sam's hands rested on the back of her head, keeping her rhythm steady. He grew harder and harder in her mouth with her actions. He rolled his head back in pleasure, humming low.

Seeing Sam's dick work itself in and out of her mouth turned you on. You hated admitting it, but it was true. Just the thought of their dicks alone made you wet.

"We told you if you tried to get rid of us, we would have to punish you. So, this is what you deserve. You only have yourself to blame." Colby hissed.

You wanted to roll your eyes, or glare, but they remained on Sam and Jess. You could feel your sex grow slick, your thighs pressing together.

"Oh no sweetheart, you gotta keep your legs apart." Colby grabbed your thighs, forcing them open. You shoved at him with your legs, doing your best to kick him.

"Fine, if you're gonna do that..." He pulled back, snapping his fingers. Suddenly your legs were chained to a bar that separated them from one another. You tried to shimmy your legs, but the bar clicked them further apart.

Colby smirked, "You might want to stop doing that. The more you move your legs, the farther apart they are gonna be. And I have a feeling you don't want to be full spread eagle. Now, I wouldn't be against it-"

"Me neither." Sam chimed in, moaning.

"Him either, but assumingly because of your attitude, you wouldn't like it," he snickered. "Look at me, princess."

You turned your head sharply towards him, your eyes fixating on him. He smiled calmly, looking over your face. "Such a pretty girl."

You cursed at your stomach as it flipped from his words. You hated his affect on you.

"You can say that all you want, Y/N. But you didn't seem to feel that way every. single. time. I've fucked you. That we've fucked you. Do you need a refresher?

Colby placed a single finger in between your breasts, and your mind became flooded with thoughts and memories of your time together with the boys. You could almost feel them inside of you, fucking your cunt roughly and bringing you to the brink of orgasm.

You panted against the gag, feeling pleasure rack your body all over. You shook against the bed, grinding your hips up into the air to relieve some tension, but to no avail. 

"Do you need some help there, baby?" Colby uttered, his face close to yours. 

Sam's voice strained as he fucked Jess' mouth. "Yeah, Colby. Help her out. Maybe she can come when I do."

"Oh, that sounds fun." Colby waved his hand in a figure eight, and you felt a device press itself on your clit. A low vibration began, and your eyes rolled slightly into your head.

"How's that feel, Y/N? Good? Bad? Do you need more?" The vibrations turned up higher, your thighs wanting to clench around the device. "Or less?"

You whined, trying to push yourself harder onto the vibrator. Colby hummed, watching you squirm.

“Watch Sam fuck Jess' mouth.” He commanded.

Your head turned to Sam, taking in everything. He was holding onto Jess' head much harder now, bucking his hips into her mouth quickly. He looked at you, winked, and fucked her mouth harder. Jess enthusiastically gagged, digging her nails into Sam's thighs.

The vibrator grew to a higher intensity, your legs shaking pleasurably. Your heart was ramping up faster and faster, your body starting to feel like it was just coming close to the edge. Part of was jealous of Jess, because all you wanted was Sam to be fucking you like that. Or Colby. Or both.

"If you honestly think you're gonna come right now, you're wrong." Colby whispered harshly in your ear, turning the vibrator down low.

You grunted, wanting to look at him. You fought against your binds, the bar for your legs separating farther.

"I told you to stop doing that, sweetie. Because now, I can turn this up," the vibrator pressed harder into your clit, going to max speed suddenly. "And now, it can get even closer to you and your aching clit."

Sam's eyes met yours, "Baby girl, I'm sorry he's so mean. I swear when I'm done with Jess, I'll make sure to treat you right."

"Remember Y/N, he's the weird one. Don't trust him." Colby taunted, turning the vibrator down again.

"Fuck, I'm getting close. You have such a good mouth, Jess." Sam commented hungrily.

Colby gasped, "How about this, Y/N? Let's play a game. I'll let you come if you admit how jealous you are of Jess."

"Are you jealous, plaything?" Sam cooed mockingly, still fucking Jess' mouth.

Colby turned your head to him, holding your chin in his hand. "Oh, very. Let's see if she'll admit it."

He tore the gag away, a loud breath immediately leaving your lips. "The floor is yours, princess."

You seethed, "Fuck. You."

Aww, she's just playing shy now. Why don't we see how she really feels?" Colby cranked the vibrator up to the max setting, the buzzing loud in your ears.

You whimpered helplessly, thrusting your hips against the toy. You couldn't help it; your clit was throbbing and your mind was fuzzy from watching Sam fuck another girl's mouth. And all you wanted was for one of them to touch you.

This was not how you thought this night would go.

Colby pressed his body closer to yours. You could feel the heat of him rolling off onto you. "Just say how you truly feel, and I'll make sure you come. Speak your mind."

"I'm getting real close-" Sam's hips sped up, his body glistening with sweat. "Fuuuuck! So you better make it quick, slut."

"Come on, Y/N. Tell us the truth. Say you're jealous. Say you want Sam to fuck your mouth like that. Do it!" Colby ordered.

You held your tongue defiantly, whining as it felt like the vibrator grew stronger and stronger against your dripping sex.

He cocked his head to the side, "You're really not gonna speak? Okay, then. Maybe we really have to pull it out of you."

Hands and fingers began touching you all over, caressing your body in the most sensitive places. You rutted against the vibrator, your body having a mind of it's own. You moaned loudly, surprised by the pleasure.

"That's it baby, I know you're getting close. Just say you want to be here, with my cock in your mouth, and you'll get to come." Sam growled, thrusting faster and faster.

You stuttered, your mouth barely able to form words, "F-Fuck, fine. I want your cock in my mouth."

"And what else, princess?" Colby egged on.

"I-I'm jealous of Jess. Please let me come and please fuck my mouth." You whimpered, biting your lip.

"God, your pleas are so pretty. Fuck, I'm gonna come!" Sam bucked his hips hastily, slamming repeatedly into Jess' mouth. She choked and gagged on his dick, taking it effortlessly. He came down her throat, letting out a breathy groan as he did. He slowed his hips, still holding her head in place.

"Do you wanna come, Y/N?" Colby whispered.

You panted, moving your hips faster against the toy. "Yes! Please!"

"I'm happy you're in a better mood now." Colby smiled, then his face dropped. "But no."

The vibration and hands disappeared, leaving your body trembling, "W-What?"

"No. You don't get to come. You have to do much better than that." He snapped his fingers, the binds holding you down disappearing. "Take your clothes off, get on your knees, and masturbate in front of us."

Your body followed Colby's words, dropping down hard. You ripped your clothes off your body desperately. The cool air hit your warm skin, causing your nipples to harden and your whole body to grow chills. Your fingers found your swollen clit, rubbing intensely. You stifled a cried, anger filling your veins as you looked up at Sam and Colby.

"You've done your job, Jess. You can go."

Jess nodded, slowly walking out of the room with tear stained cheeks and cum drooling out of her mouth.

You snarled at them, somehow able to speak while pleasuring yourself. "How dare you do that to her! You guys are fucking sick."

"First off, what the hell did you expect from a demon and a vampire? We're depraved. Sue us." Sam rolled his eyes, annoyed. "And secondly, she wasn't even real."

You narrowed your eyes, your breath quickening. "What? H-How?"

"Magic. It's Halloween baby." Sam chuckled, jumping towards you, "Boo!"

"Jess was really here at one point, but she left a long time ago. Hell, once she gave you the book, she was done. So, the rest has just been in your head." Colby explained.

Sam added proudly, "Made up by us, of course."

"Speaking of the book, let me just pull it back out." Colby flipped through it, skimming over the pages lazily. He sighed, "It sucks I can't read Latin."

Sam scoffed, "Aren't you a demon? Isn't that what you guys do?"

"You know, that is incredibly rude to say. How stereotypical of you to think that, Samuel." Colby frowned disappointedly, "I expected more from you."

"Sorry. I'll do better next time." Sam apologized.

You groaned huskily, trying to stop yourself from masturbating. But your hands kept moving. "Don't you guys get sick of hearing your own voice?!"

Sam shook his head. "No. Not really."

"Oh I'm sorry, princess." Colby's eyes turned black as he lowered himself to your face. His voice thundered off the walls of the room, "Did you expect us to be fucking nice when you got this book to fucking kill us?! You're lucky all we're doing is making you edge. There are lot worse things I could fucking do to you, but this is me playing nice."

Sam gaped, "That gave me chills."

"Shut up, Sam." You jeered.

Sam's eyes turned red, glaring at you. He yanked the book from Colby's hands, flipping open to a page, and tearing it out of the book.

Your voice croaked, "W-What are you doing?!"

"Punishing you. I don't know if that spell was important, but let's hope for your sake it wasn't." Sam retorted.

"Please, don't! I'm sorry! Fuuuck. I'll be a good girl." You whined helplessly.

He snapped, "I'm sure you will. Since that's the only way you're gonna come." 

You suddenly felt a vibrator press against your cunt again. A desperate wail ripped through you, sweat dripping down your back as your body grew hotter and hotter.

Colby cupped your face, making you look up at him and Sam. "Tell us the truth, Y/N. How did watching Sam fuck Jess make you feel?"

You felt your mouth speak, but you had no choice on what you were saying. The truth spilled out of you. "I-I hated it. Oh my God, I hated it! I wished it was me."

"And what about now? What do you want?" Sam asked teasingly.

You bounced on the vibrator, pushing yourself against it harder. "I want to come! I want you to fuck me! Please!! Fuck, please please. I just need to come so badly."

Colby leaned in, "Who do you belong to?"

"You!" You exclaimed.

Sam repeated, "Who do you belong to?"

"Y-You!" You looked at him, pleading.

"That's it baby. Get right to the edge, I know. I know you wanna come. Do it for me. Get right there, get right there!" Colby commanded, nodding as you did what you were told.

Your fingers rubbed faster and faster, the vibrator matching your speed. You panted and whimpered, feeling yourself get right to the edge. You knew any second now you were going to come. All you could think about was coming and having Sam and Colby fuck you.

Colby smiled, "Stop touching yourself."

Your hands dropped to your sides, the vibrator disappearing. Your eyes welled up, your body still shaking with ecstasy, ready to fall over the edge at any second. A strangled cry heaved in your chest, your eyes boring into Sam and Colby's.

"Don't look so sad, baby girl. We would never leave you unsatisfied." Sam rubbed your hair softly for a moment, "Get on the bed for us."

"Lay on your back. Keep your legs and head off the bed." Colby instructed.

You did as you were told, stumbling awkwardly to the bed again. You laid down, allowing your legs to dangle off one side and your head on the other. Colby was suddenly at your feet, naked and spreading your legs wide. You felt the bar back again, keeping your legs locked and apart. He took the bar and put it around his neck, keeping your legs up. Your feet rested on his shoulder as he gazed down at your soaked pussy.

"It pains me to torture you like this, princess. Do you know how hard you've made me?" He groaned, stroking himself, "My cock has just been dying to bury itself inside you. Exactly where it belongs."

"Hi, toy. You ready for me to use your throat? That's what you wanted, right?" Sam appeared above you, his shaft dangling just above your mouth.

You nodded, unable to form words with how horny you were.

They both filled you up at the same time, not even giving you a warning. They groaned in unison, your moans muffled by Sam's cock deep within your throat. They stilled their hips, pushing all the way to the hilt until they couldn't no more.

Colby sighed happily, "The best days of my life are when I'm inside of you, Y/N. Your cunt is like heaven."

"I don't know which one is better, her mouth or her pussy. But either way, I love them both." Sam keened. 

Colby chuckled darkly, "That's all you are to us, you know. Just two holes. For us to use."

"What did she say we had? A free use situationship? That sounds about right." Sam laughed.

"And you wouldn't want it any other way. You love being used. You love how we take whatever we want from you." Their hips were matching each other in tandem, thrusting into you at a slow pace.

Sam continued, shooting back. "You were literally on the floor, begging us to let you come. And now your cunt and mouth are filled with our cocks. What a fucking slut.

Colby gasped breathlessly, "Fuck, you tightened around me when he said that. Is that what you are, princess? A slut?"

Sam mocked, tsking. "I thought you wanted to be a good girl."

"Good girls don't get used like this. Good girls don't try to get rid of their fuck buddies." Colby cursed.

"Good girls don't have fuck buddies. Good girls have boyfriends that love and cherish them." Sam snickered.

"Maybe we do feel that way for you, baby. We just have such." Colby bucked his hips into your hard once, "a funny." Twice. "way." Thrice. "of showing it."

"We do love you baby girl. We care about you so much. Which is why you can't be with anyone else. Who else is gonna treat you this good?" Sam moved his cock a bit deeper, making you choke.

"Exactly. Who else is gonna make you come like this?" Colby breathed, smirking.

Suddenly an orgasm rocked through you. You gagged on Sam's cock, unable to stop yourself from thrust back and forth on their cocks. You bucked wantonly, gripping the bed sheet as your legs shook against Colby.

Sam was in awe, "There's our plaything! God, having you choke on my cock makes me wanna come again."

Colby smiled lazily, "She's been so good for us. How about you give us another orgasm baby?"

Another orgasm hit you just as the last one started to fade. You shuttered against Colby's shaft, shaking intensely. You whined around Sam, white knuckling the bed.

"There you go. I know how badly you wanted to come, princess. You squeezed my cock so tightly then. You just want to milk me dry, don't you?" Colby spoke in a needy tone.

Sam buried himself in your throat, "How about another, just because?"

Once more, you erupted in euphoria. Your thighs trembled and your eyes blurred with tears as you cried out in pain and pleasure. Your mind went blank, seeing stars as you rode out your high. 

The boys laughed, still thrusting into you, but now a bit faster. "Oh Sam, that was mean. She didn't deserve that."

"I thought she said she wanted to come. I'm just granting her wish." Sam sang teasingly.

"That's true. How about... Colby hummed, plunging all the way into your sex, "one more for good measure?"

Your cunt exploded in yet another climax. Your come leaked down your inner thighs, soaking you and the bed. Your back arched and your hands clung onto Sam's hands, needing something to ground you. You could barely think, the pleasure too much for you.

"I think you've had your fun, babe. It's time for us to have ours." Colby spat.

Sam and Colby sped up their thrusts, your body at their whim. Colby drove his sex into yours, the sounds of your wet cunt sending a shiver up your spine. Sam cupped your throat with his hand as he bucked his cock into you. Your jaw had grown slack, allowing him more access to your mouth and throat.

You laid still on the bed, letting the men use you. You felt dazed in the best way. Your body trembled with lust, your skin feeling cool in the hot air of the room. Maybe you were wrong about getting rid of the boys. How could you think of getting rid of them when they were able to make you feel this amazing?

Colby ran his hands up and down your legs, squeezing your thighs tightly. "God baby, I just love how tight you are. Fuck, you are taking my cock so well. You know what? I forgive you for your attitude earlier. Clearly you just needed a good fucking from us."

Sam moaned, "Just needed to be reminded who owns you."

"That's right. You're ours, princess. And we're yours. We'd never want to fuck someone other than you. You're all we want. And we're all you want, yeah?" Colby questioned, his voice hoarse.

You nodded, blinking rapidly from the tears clouding your vision as Sam continued pounding into your throat, gagging you.

Colby's eyes darkened as he glared at you. "Next time though, we won't be nice. You'll really learn the meaning of free use, you understand me?"

Sam grunted huskily, "God, don't tempt me. I would love to use you freely."

Colby leaned forward, uttering, "I told you he was a freak."

"As if you wouldn't too." Sam argued breathlessly. "Are you getting close, sweetie? Do you wanna come again?"

You groaned around Sam's dick, bobbing your head.

Sam gave a smug smile to Colby, picking up his pace. "I think that's a yes."

"Well, you're just gonna have to wait, princess. I want you to come with us." Colby matched his pace, plowing into you.

Sam whined, "I want to come in her pussy this time."

"So do I." Colby halted, "How about I come in her first and you come in her afterwards?"

Sam nodded eagerly. "Sounds amazing. You won't mind, right baby girl?"

You didn't say anything, just kept bouncing and sucking on their cocks. You were so mindless you barely understood them anymore. All you knew is that you wanted their cum inside you soon. That's all you could think about.

Colby cooed, grinning lustfully. "Aww, we mindfucked her. She has nothing going on up there."

"That's perfect. I love a girl so cummed out of her mind she doesn't know how to even speak." Sam growled, smirking.

"She’s basically a sex doll for us. No thoughts, just a set of wet holes for us to use and come in. God, you're so fucking sexy, princess." Colby's hips moved faster, his body shaking yours with each thrust.

Sam kept his cock inside of your mouth, "You getting close, Colby?"

"Fuuuck, yes. Her cunt is gripping my cock. Jesus Christ you feel so fucking good baby." Colby pounded your pussy desperately, his hands gripping your legs.

"That's it, Y/N. Milk his cock. Make him come." Sam bossed.

"I'm gonna fucking breed you, princess. You love when I do that. A-And you're gonna come when I do." Colby sped up his thrusts, jackhammering into you. He picked your hips up off the bed, hitting you even deeper. He shouted passionately, "Fuck I'm right there! F-Fuck! Come for me!"

You shattered, choking out a filthy mewl around Sam's member. Your hips met Colby's with each of his thrusts. He plunged into you a final time, spilling all of his seed deep within you. You felt your cunt fill with his load, throbbing around him intensely. His groans grew quiet, his chest heaving as he caught his breath.

Colby caught his breath, exhaling deeply. "You're such a good girl for us. And now, you're gonna take Sam's come."

He pulled out, your pussy feeling empty and used. But then it was filled up once more, now with Sam. You gasped huskily, your throat sore from his round on it. You glanced down at Sam as he began pounding into you.

Colby rubbed your face sweetly, wiping the drool off of the corners of your mouth. "Open up, princess. I need somewhere to rest my cock until he comes."

You popped your mouth open, taking Colby's semi-hard dick and letting it fill you up. You were used to having something there now, and you were happy to have it be Colby's.

"Do you like tasting yourself on my cock, slut?" Colby commented.

You hummed, agreeing mindlessly. Sam started slamming himself into you, your body shaking with each deep thrust. Your cunt gushed around him, wet from your and Colby's cum.

"Holy shit, you feel amazing baby girl! Fuck I'm getting so close. When I come, you come too!" Sam howled, bucking wildly.

Colby reached over, rubbing your clit in time with Sam's thrusts. "Just one more time, Y/N. Give us everything you got. Be a good girl for us."

Sam's eyes flashed red, his fangs appearing. "God damn - yes! Milk my cock, Y/N. Take every drop of my fucking cum and come with me!"

The ecstasy you felt was unlike anything you every experienced before. Your vision went white, unable to see or hear anything. You rutted up to meet Sam's thrusts, your body moving purely on instinct. You no longer had even an ounce of control over your body. You felt your throat vibrate with gurgled screams and cries. You soaked his dick and sucked on Colby's, your body rag dolling against the bed.

"So good for us. You did so well, angel." Colby murmured.

Sam breathed, staring at you sweetly. "You're so pretty when you come. Our pretty girl. You can rest now"

Your eyes fluttered, your body exhausting beyond repair. You closed your eyes, passing out instantly.

When you finally awoke, your body was sore from your wrists to your ankles. You were back in your room, but you knew that that wasn't a dream. As you sat up in bed, an object on the floor stood out to you.

The book. It was here, in your house. And away from Sam and Colby.

You jumped out of bed, grabbing it. You looked it over, flipping through the pages. The piece that Sam tore out must have been back in as the book was intact.

You nodded to yourself, knowing what you had to do next.

Time to get rid of Sam and Colby.

<< Part 4 ||

[joeloverture]

comeuppance | qz!j.m. x f!reader

masterlist | notifs blog

pairing: qz!joel miller x f!reader summary: [post outbreak] when your recklessness causes an arms deal to go south, joel makes sure you regret it. warnings: (18+ mdni) qz!joel, age gap (late 20s/early 50s), written with hbo!joel in mind but with game!joel lore, guns, mentioned executions, misogynistic names outside (and in!) a sexual context, canon-typical violence as in murder (joel kills a soldier 'on-screen'), reader is a little shit but joel is worse, darkish & dubcon, spanking as a punishment, gunplay, attempted boot humping, degradation, humiliation, one kick to the cunt, mean!joel, orgasm denial [no use of y/n] word count: 2.7k a/n: this is my (admittedly late) submission for @iamasaddie's writing challenge 2.0! my prompt was 'you can't hide forever'. the genre was technically dark but joel himself isn't scarily dark here. thank you so much to aly for, once again, bringing this fandom together with her challenges. it's a steep task but she does a great job every time! and even more thanks to @joelsdagger and @lovesickonmybed for helping me brainstorm! (i have half of a brain without my wonderfully creative friends).

It only takes one deal gone south to fuck everything up.

You know the compass is already ticking that way the moment you and Joel, your longtime smuggling partner, enter the abandoned warehouse. Much like everything else in the Boston QZ, it’s falling apart. The corrugated metal walls are pitted with rust, and old blood is caked all over the floors. In another life, it might’ve been a slaughterhouse, but there’s no real way of knowing. It’s been long enough that any signage has deteriorated. The building’s state of decay, however, isn’t what messes things up.

It’s the singular man that walks in from the opposite side of the atrium.

FEDRA’s favorite executioner. Slitted eyes far apart, thinned out lips, and graying black hair. Rarely seen away from the gallows, only recognizable to you from all of the nightmares you’ve had of his face being the last you see.

If it were drugs, you’d think nothing of it. FEDRA soldiers buy quietly from you all of the time – but they have no need for guns that they don’t already have.

Joel steps forward, merchandise in the duffel bag over his shoulder, none the wiser. A knot ties itself in the base of your throat. You’re too busy trying to figure out what to do, what to do, what to do that you barely even realize that the soldier has a gun aimed right between your eyes until you’re looking right down the barrel.

Your hand jerks to your holster, drawing your pistol in one swipe.

“Drop your fucking gun!” he barks in your direction. It clatters out of your hands. “Don’t you dare fucking move.” Your hands fly up as you take a step back, nearly stumbling into a nearby crate. “Joel Miller and his bitch,” the man sneers. “What a lucky find. You two have quite the bounty on your heads.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Joel says, face completely blank.

“Easy for you to say,” the guard says with a nagging smirk. “Your little cunt here already did. Pretty fucking dumb not to check who you’re selling your merchandise to, huh?”

Joel tenses, ultimately huffing through his nose. “Can we get this over with?”

“I’ll make it easy, Miller. Come with me alive so I get paid, or come with me dead so I still get paid.”

Joel’s fingers twitch behind his back, and after almost three years of working with him, it’s impossible not to pick up on the subtext. Keep him busy. His hand is already reaching for the revolver in his back pocket.

“Turn the other way. I can make this worth your time,” you say. “But you’re lucky if those sons of bitches you work for even offer you half the reward they’ve posted for us. Dragging the bodies from Area 5 to the closest checkpoint… you’d have your work cut out for you.”

“Yeah fucking right,” he spits. “You two have been running around free for too damn long. Causing too much trouble. Not anymo–”

The man’s mouth freezes around the words by the time the bullet soars throat the canvas fabric of Joel’s duffel bag and through the man’s jugular. The soldier’s hands claw for his throat while he gargles on the blood as he begins the descent to the ground. New blood, still pumping directionless from the split artery, joins the old.

Much like him, where he’s slumping against the ground, chest moving until the very end, your hands clutch at your own throat. “We need to go,” you say, knowing the rest of FEDRA will come looking for the firefight at any second now. Joel doesn’t move. “Joel!” You reach out to tug his sleeve, but he doesn’t react. “Jesus– move!”

Joel turns to face you, gun still hanging from his hand. His fingers flex around the grip. “What the hell were you thinkin’, little girl?” You can hear his breathing, amplified from how close he is to you. His once inexpressive face is now red, lips curled, skin tight like a crushed soda can. 

“I– what?”

“Not vettin’ your buyers. First fuckin’ thing I told you all them years ago, wasn’t it? Gotta check so you don’t sell shit to the wrong guy, yeah?” He stalks closer to you – you stumble back.

Not vetting the now dead executioner, whose blood is currently creeping up to the soles of your boots. Your mistake, yes, a potentially catastrophic one that you’ll definitely never make again after this, but he’d been on your ass about finding buyers and after an entire day of burning bodies, the last thing you wanted to do was go asking around about the ‘John’ in search of guns that you’d talked to over the radio tower.

“We’re alive, aren’t we?”

Joel finally jerks his sleeve away from your grip. Your hand falls slack by your side, burning from his fire stoker touch. “And you oughta count your fuckin’ blessings for that. Dumbfuck of a girl, gonna get me killed,” he spits. Spittle flies across your neck. 

You flinch – and not because you’re scared. You’ve never seen him like this before. You hear noise in the distance, the moving of FEDRA trucks, no doubt. “Joel! We can do this later – we need to fucking go–”

“Then you better start running,” he says gruffly.

You don’t need to be told twice.

You sprint out of the atrium, cursing as your bloodied soles carve tracks behind you. A stack of crates blocks the door, which you vault over and shimmy your way through the broken glass panel. The hallway ahead of you is dark, and you have no idea where the fuck you’re going, only that you can’t stop. Each impact of your foot on the ground is like being struck by lightning, carbonating the racing blood pumping through your body. More glass crunches behind you, and a shock of terror pierces you when you hear Joel’s snarls filling the corridor.

There’s a metal cart in your way, which you send whirling in Joel’s direction. He grunts, presumably hitting him in the stomach before it goes clattering on the ground. You make the most of the diversion, hurtling forward and lurching through a cracked door.

Dead fucking end.

An office, by the looks of it. Desks all over the place, leftover tasks still pinned on cork boards from outbreak day, chairs on their sides. You hear Joel huffing and puffing behind you, and fear forks through you. You fall to your hands and knees, crawling underneath the labyrinth of desks and tucking yourself against a wall, carpet-burned hand to your mouth to muffle your breathing. Your chest avalanches with every single breath.

“You ain’t off the hook,” Joel says, voice getting closer with every word. You can hear the thump of his boots against the carpet. See the spread of his shadow roaming across the wall. You squint through the seam of two desks. He's looking over his shoulder when you haul yourself across the room to the next closest desk.

You look around for anything that might get you out of this long enough to slip back out of the door. If you can make it back to the apartment, maybe he can cool off on his own walk back. You reach up for a stapler and take a brief second to peek over a filing cabinet before flinging it against the wall. It snaps open, spilling decades old staples all over the floor.

“Only a clicker’s fallin’ for that,” he tuts at you. His boots land on the floor again, one, two, three steps closer to you. You wince, balling your hands into fists. 

All you can hear is the thrashing of your own heart. You scooch away from the desk – maybe if you throw something small at him, like a pack of sticky notes, it’ll be enough to abduct his attention long enough for you to slip by–

“You can’t hide forever,” Joel goddamn coos at you. You see him bending at the waist, scoping out the undersides of desks, seeking you out–

You crawl out from under the desk and book it to the door.

Stupid. Fucking. Idea.

Joel hauls you back by the belt loop, laughing as you cry out. You try squirming away, kicking at him, but his other arm wraps around your torso. It hits you then that you have no idea what he might do to you. You’ve trusted him with your life before, but what would he do when you risked his? You’d always been too scared to find out. He spins you, slamming you over the desk. You cry out as your chest meets the wood. His hand drags your wrists together, pinning them at the small of your back.

“Let me – the fuck– go!” you yell at him, trying to bend your elbow at the right angle to nail him in the chest.

He tightens his grip so much that you can barely move an inch. “Made your fuckin’ bed, gotta lie in it, sweetheart,” he tuts, shaking his head at you. His hand grazes over your ass, and you stiffen as he looms over you. He is just a man. Your mind spins to the worst-case scenario. No, no, no, no–

“How about an… old-fashioned corporal punishment to set ya straight?” Within the next second, he’s yanking your jeans down your thighs.

Oh. Oh fuck.

“Joel–” you exhale, breath shuddery. “Knock it off–”

“No panties? I was gonna be nice and spank ya over them…” Joel frowns at you. “Poor baby. ‘S gonna sting real bad.”

You snap at him, “What, you want me to go to the local QZ Victoria’s Secret?”

Joel swats, hard, across your asscheek.

You’ve seen how intense Joel’s brute strength can be. You’ve just never been on the receiving end of it. A cry pushes out of your throat, and you hunch over the desk as you struggle helplessly against Joel. Tears spring at your eyes.

Mercifully, Joel runs his calloused palm over the smarting skin. “Shh, shh, shh, shh. ‘S okay, Jus’ gotta teach ya a lesson. Make sure it sticks.” He strokes the nape of your neck as you whimper into the desk.

You tense up in preparation for the second hit, but, if anything, it just makes the impact worse. It prickles your other cheek, leaving your knees shaky. And God help you, your clit twitches. Twitches. Your thighs are already heating up, and you can’t help but squirm in a good way underneath Joel. A single tear slips over your waterline, and you have to tilt your head into the shoulder of your shirt to wipe it off. You don’t want him to see you weak – not that weak.

The next spank makes him grunt from how hard he swings his palm into your backside. “Joel!” you shout, pain nearly splitting you in two. Your feet raise off of the ground as you prop yourself up on the desk, kicking uselessly at his shins. All he does is chuckle at you.

Horror sinks like a cinderblock in your stomach when you realize that your hole, leaking slick, is practically fucking winking at him. You thank the darkness. It’s about the only good thing about this place.

“You don’t like that?” he mock-pouts at you. It’s enough to make you throb. The opposite, you’d say if you could.

A series of spanks follows, but at least these are lighter, and in rapid succession. Still, you jerk with each impact, squirming so that your fingers dance in his grip. “Stupid little girl. Thought you could sell our shit to a FEDRA bitch and get off scot-free? Really thought you could get away from me, huh?”

You try clamming up, desperately attempting to close your legs together. You squeeze your thighs together, relieved at the pressure – and then you hear a resounding click behind you.

You still.

Joel’s gun, still fucking hot from the bullet it’d fired right into the executioner’s throat, traces up the small of your back… all the way to your throat. “Could put one right here,” Joel whispers, more to himself than you. “Show ya what happens to girls that don’t follow orders.” He jams it into your skin, and you hiss at the pain, at the bruise it’s sure to leave. And in spite of it all, you fucking gush. God, you’re fucked up.

He wouldn’t kill you – he needs you more than you need him. But common sense isn’t enough to prevent the thrill, the arousal smiting your body from head to toe.

“I’ll reconsider if ya give it a kiss.” He nudges the barrel carefully against your lips and you stop breathing for a second, maybe two. “Go on. Give it some lovin’. Suck it like a cock. I know you’re good at it. Hear all the guys you bring over.”

You whimper at the thought of Joel listening to you getting your hook ups off – at the thought of him fisting his own cock while he listens. Obediently, you part your lips, slowly, ever so slowly, taking the gun down your throat. It fills your mouth up in such a strange way – all hard edges. It’d be freezing cold if not for the fact that it’s a weapon of death, a scythe in its own way. One press of the trigger, and you’d be just like the guard. You suck even harder at it, eyes rolling back in your skull. Your thighs twitch, stripes of slick running down your thighs. 

Joel reaches between your legs, grabbing at the meat of your inner thigh to spread you open. Instead, he gets a handful of the arousal that’s been pooling between your legs since he first bent you over the desk.

You freeze, pausing your ministrations on the pistol. He himself freezes before he drags his hips over your folds. His finger pads hover over your swollen clit before he properly rubs you once, and then twice. Your hips cant into the closest thing – his hand.

Joel makes a disgusted noise and swats your leaking pussy before shoving you forward and stepping back. You’re panting, properly fucked out even though he’d barely touched you. Cross-eyed, tongue hanging out, face hot. He looks you up and down, brows furrowing with revulsion. “Horny fuckin’ bitch. Creamin’ all over me. That long since you got action that a spankin’ and a gun in your mouth is all it takes to get you riled up? Pathetic.” He shoves the gun back in his pocket, still shining with your saliva.

He wipes your wetness all over your leg, grabs the back of your collar, and drags you to the floor in one foul swoop. You fall on your hands and knees again, ass still stinging from his treatment, lightheaded from how needy you are. Even his brutal treatment makes you whimper. 

You reach for his calf, pulling yourself up to brace your dripping cunt against his boot. You rut against it, not even fully cognizant of your movements as you roll your hips, praying that he lets you have this if nothing else. Your orgasm, wetting his boot thoroughly. Your scent, clinging to him on the walk back to the apartment. You buck into the boot, moaning as the toe bumps against your clit. It might be enough, if you could just do it one more time–

Joel tears his shoe out from underneath you, face pinched with aversion. “No!” you cry, still grabbing for his calf. You fall onto your back, legs spread and panting. Your ass needles from his spanking. The ceiling tiles spin above you. 

The same toe you’d been humping kicks into your cunt, and you yelp, curling in on yourself. Another tear slides down your burning cheek as you reach down to cup your sore pussy. Even that pressure feels like touching a live wire. 

Joel looks down at his shining boot and makes a disgusted noise. “Does humiliatin’ yourself always get ya dicked down?” 

He turns around, already walking away from you without a care in the world. The gun grip pokes out of his pocket, taunting you.

“Pull your goddamn pants up and get a move on. Curfew’s soon.”

[itsabouttimex2]

Drifting in Seafoam

(I don’t have enough ‘rare character’ bots, so I made one of Ao Guang!)

Suffering is easier to swallow when it comes with an excuse.

Ao Guang has long learned the worth of these words. It’s hard to break free from the relief they have brought him. If he can pretend that there was meaning to the loss that he’s suffered, to the grief he’s endured, then he can bear it with less tears.

His son, Ao Bing, slaughtered and burned by a Celestial Prince. His son. His little prince. His pride and joy. His darling child. His baby boy.

Gone. Reduced to dust. Left to drift in the wind until those motes of flaky grey had settled to move slowly across the waves of the placid eastern sea.

Sometimes, Ao Guang was sure he could feel precisely which current was carrying the remains of his beloved son, whose ashes would forever be cradled and adored by the sea in which he was raised.

“You mustn’t stray from me,” the dignified king instructs, one wrinkled hand reaching to trace the keratin of your draconic horns. “You must never leave my side, Y/N.”

He slowly takes your hands into his own, holding them tight. He’s been through so much, and lived for so long- and still hasn’t so much as mildly faltered in his strength.

“You are so very much like coral,” he sighs, holding tight to your hands. “So bright and colorful. And so, so very fragile. Drifting slowly through life as the world rages around you… I shall never allow you to come to harm.”

Still are you awkward with the forked tongue so “graciously bestowed” upon you, so the most graceful response to be mustered is a sloppy: “Yeth- yeess. Yes. Yes, and th-thank you, Your Highness.”

“None of that,” Ao Guang sternly instructs, brushing some of your hair behind one of your newly pointed ears. “I have taken you as my own, haven’t I? It is no longer appropriate to refer to me so formally.”

You don’t miss the slight weakness in his voice- this isn’t something the king “wants”. This is something he needs.

It’s feels like a personal insult to yourself, giving in so easily. But there’s no point in fighting, no point in arguing.

Not when His Highness now commands so much of your life, and in so many ways.

“Yes… yes, Bàba.”

In the bend of his knees, there’s the slightest bit of quivering. Slowly does the dignified dragon kneel to your level, cupping your cheeks in both of his old and worn hands.

Ao Guang is cold to the touch, but there’s an incredible amount of warmth in his baggy eyes.

He’s been crying, clearly. Only late at night, when no one but you is around to hear, only when you’re wrapped in his arms.

Not that you were awake for any of it. Guang had made sure of it.

“Very good, my child. Now…”

And there’s the moment you were fearing. That trailing beat. The slightest of pauses, where the king is either planning or plotting maybe even questioning next his actions… before going through with them in the simplest way possible anyhow.

“Allow me to make you another cup of tea.”

“Baba,” is your prompt little whine, draconic tongue flicking around in trembling worry. “My hornth- my horns still huu-urt. N’my ears.”

Compassion glimmers in the seafoam hue of his eyes, his gaze softening slight.

“…I’ll make it special for you,” he promises, using one worn hand to pat your head, “and mix in something to help with the pain.”

As he once did with Bing, so long ago. Boil something hot and sweet to soothe cramps and headaches and fevers.

Guang firmly takes one of your hands into his own, pulling you slowly along to the palace kitchen.

The polished tiles click under his boots, each step sinking a further feeling of helplessness into your heart. You always end up wishing that the journey would take longer- but the click, click, clicking lasts so woefully short a time-

And soon Ao Guang’s hands are around your waist, boosting until he has you settled on a wooden chair with restrictively snug armrests and a padded back.

This… this chair was brand new. And with how perfectly it conformed to the fit of your build, it was very likely that your “adoptive father” had it commissioned and custom-built for you.

At the notion of being treated like a troublesome or helpless child, your face reddens. “Ah, b-baba? The n-normal chair ith- is fine…”

“Hush, Y/N,” he starts, grinding several dubious ingredients with a pestle. They crumble quickly under his powerful hand, and are swept into a ceramic kettle with a winding draconic design.

Once Guang fills the lot and moves it over a stove, he continues to speak.

“You cannot hold yourself through the process of transformation, can you? I saw fit to provide you with some measure of comfort, little conch.”

The little nickname slips off his tongue with practiced ease- you clearly are not the first person he used it for.

Still, he says it so genuinely and warmly that it.. it manages to soothe you in some small measure- that is, right until you hear a tittering whistle- and the tea is done.

In small ways does the bereft man dote on you, even as you squirm and bite back a gasp at the dreaded squeal of the kettle. He mixes inside the teapot a combination of honey and sugar and some nebulous white powder, stirring the mixture together with a little silver spoon.

He plates the little white cup and brings it before you, taking the golden handle between two of his old fingers. As he did twice before, and was bound to do many times again- Guang lifts the rim to your lips.

“Little Conch… I cannot wait to see how you change next.”

[short-honey-badger]

Peppermint Tea 31 - All Blends 2

Holy crap is this chapter a doozy lol. It's quite a bit longer than my other chapters. Lotta stuff happens. So I hope you enjoy!

Warnings! None this time? Sad stuff happens ofc. We are introduced to someone new.

P.s. I was going to use some random son for Big Mom but like. I did a Lil research and I can't help but like Katakuri. 😬 again. I apologize if Big Mom and Kata seem a bit off. I'm trying to keep myself spoiler free for the anime.

Masterlist

Benn runs through the courtyards of Mihawk's castle, dodging swipes from the Humandrals until he hears the sound of striking steel. He turns that way, picking up speed as he goes until he arrives at a small clearing in the dirt. Shanks and Mihawk are both grinning, a joy so easy to see that Benn thinks he may go blind. Usually, he'd stay and watch, but he can still hear your terrified voice pleading for help.

He slides to a stop, and the two men sparing turn and look at him, brows raised.

“Benn? What's going on?” Shanks asks his first mate. Benn wouldn't come get him unless it was important.

“It's, _ Shanks. They found her.”

The temperature of the surrounding area plummets, and all ambient noise disappears. Neither man can believe what they are hearing. They'd both been so sure that no one would be able to find your tiny island tucked away in Paradise, so close to the Calm Belt that most ships would be torn apart by sea kings. How could this have happened?

“What did you say?” Mihawk hisses and his grip on Yoru tightens to the point of pain, his nails digging into the flesh of his palm. He ignores the feeling of hot liquid dripping down his hand.

Shanks isn't faring much better. He looks ashen, pale faced and nervous. He and Benn share a look, one that Mihawk easily catches.

“_ called the transponder snail. She said that the Big Mom pirates had made landfall,” Benn frowns, one hand running through his graying hair.

“She sounded terrified.”

Mihawk is moving before his mind fully registers what's going on. He speeds through the castle, grabbing his coat and bag he'd packed the other day in case you called them. His haki is lashing, sending furniture falling and making the old stone walls of the castle crack and fracture. The ringing of his snail grabs his attention, and Hawkeye grabs it before loping out of the castle and to the bay.

Shanks is right behind him, Benn keeping up with his captain. It is with a silent, shared look with his lover that Mihawk reluctantly steps aboard the Red Force. He isn't fond of being on another's ship, especially one as big as this one, but like hell, would he let the younger man out of his sight.

While Shanks is barking orders, Mihawk takes the time to answer the still ringing snail that he clutches too tightly.

Ca-lick

“Mihawk! Finally! I've been calling forever!”

Perona’s shrill voice is a little comfort, but fear still clutches Dracule by the heart. She is rattling on before he can get a word in.

“You've got to get back to _’s island. She thinks it might be Big Mom and her crew!”

Mihawk feels a vein pop in his brow with his hard he scowls down at the snail.

“I know! Where are you? How quickly can you go back?”

“I'm three days out! So, two and a half if the sea doesn't hate me. What if she's already gone? What if…what if it's worse?”

Mihawk can hear the thickness in Perona’s voice and knows that the ghost girl is probably crying now, having worked herself up in a tizzy. He sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Perona. I need you to calm down, girl. Listen to me when I say that _ will be fine. We can handle anything that's happened, but I need you to do something for me, okay?”

He hears the pinkette sniff over the transponder, but she sounds like she's gotten a hold of herself.

“Okay. What do you need me to do?”

“I need you to go back to her island. Find out if she's still there, but be safe. If you see her jolly roger, then you sail right to us. You've got your log pose, right?”

Perona sniffs again and nods even though her father-figure can't see it, “Yeah.”

“Good. If the island is clear, then investigate carefully.” He stresses the word, “Call me back as soon as you can, got it?”

“Yes, Mihawk. Will she really be okay?”

His heart breaks at the fear that he can hear swimming in his charge’s voice. He licks his lips. He is terrified in all honesty, but he keeps it together for her sake.

“She will be. Be safe, Perona.”

The ghost girl assures the older man that she will be careful and the transmission ends after that. Mihawk pockets the snail and looks around the ship to try and find Shanks.

The redhead is at the helm, still barking orders at his crew. Dracule picks his way past the pirates until he arrives at his lover's side. Shanks glances at him and then looks away, his haki curling tight around himself as if he was trying to hide away from the other man. Mihawk can't help but feel a little hurt.

Shanks is panicking. How could he tell Mihawk that all of this was his fault? That it had been him That had slipped up, his lips loose with drink and his heart heavy with wistful thoughts of his treasure that night so long ago.

The hawk hadn't trusted him with this from the beginning, and it killed him to admit that Mihawk had been right about Shanks after all? All the trust and affection that his lover had given him would go up in flames so quickly that Shanks wouldn't even be given a chance to mourn it. The redhead had little doubt that Mihawk would spirit you away from him as soon as he was able once he found out about his mistake.

The captain keeps himself busy for as long as he is able, but Mihawk is nothing if not patient, and he stays by his side until there are no more orders to be said. Before he can make a getaway, his hawk grabs him by the arm and practically drags him across the deck and into the Captain quarters. Shanks could have wrestled away, but then Mihawk would have been even more suspicious of him.

Shanks is shoved in a chair, and his lover putters around the room, pouring them both a drink before settling down in the seat across from Shanks. He sips delicately, but Shanks' nerves have him knocking back the glass of rum like it's a shot of whiskey. He jumps when Dracule speaks up.

“Perona is three days out from _’s island. She'll call me with news as soon as she gets there and if the island is clear or not.”

Shanks forces himself to nod. He licks his lips and scrubs his hand through his hair, “Good. That's good.”

Mihawk raises a brow at the other man's attitude. The man was acting more like a scared rabbit than the powerful Emperor that Dracule knows him to be. He sets his glass away and stands, crossing the short distance to stand between the redhead’s legs, and sets his hands on those tense shoulders. Mihawk guides him forward to rest his head against his bare chest, and his hands snake up to thread into red hair.

“How are we going to find her, Mihawk?”

The Emperor’s voice sounds shot, broken and beaten, and it breaks his heart listening to it. His grip tightens in Shanks’ hair, and Mihawk sighs softly.

“I don't know. But we'll search every island in Big Mom’s territory if we have to.”

~~~~~ Tomura ~~~~~

Tomura dashes through the streets of the city, a mischievous smirk on his face when he looks behind him and sees his little sister chasing after him. You look furious, but the expression just looks adorable on her chubby baby face. Tomura had snatched her favorite blanket this morning to try and wake up the sleepy head, and the chase had been on since.

Obviously, he wasn't going as fast as he could. Tomura was older than her by almost a decade, after all, and he didn't want his sister to get lost in the crowds of people. Not that the citizens of their Kingdom would let their only princess get lost.

The people laughed and urged her in the way her oldest brother ran, encouraging her to catch up to him. Their king and Queen had always been kind to their subjects, and in turn, they stayed loyal to the royal family.

Tomura slows to a stop, ducking behind a stall selling fruit and waiting for his little sister to dash past him. He springs out and grabs her by the waist, spinning you around in the air. You shriek in laughter, clutching at his wrists as he turns his lower body into dust and flies back the way he came, back to the castle and to where breakfast awaits.

Tomura opens his eyes, squinting when the sun makes them water. He wonders what you look like now. Had you found a way to survive and flourish after he left you behind? Would you even remember him? The thought of you not knowing who he is made his chest tight with fear and his throat clog with emotions he carefully hid from his men. Could you forgive him for leaving you behind, even if it had been the best course of action?

An angry scowl twists his lips, and Delemur lets out a string of quiet curses, mostly centered around a certain red-headed Emperor who had somehow stumbled across the safe house. Damn Red-Haired Shanks.

“Captain! We're going to make landfall soon!” The voice of one of his crew startled Tomura out of the fond memory and his less than savory thoughts. He rubs his face, sighing as he straightens up from where he'd been leaning on the railing.

“How long?” The white-haired man asks and looks at the lieutenant before him.

“Lookout said we're about thirty minutes out, Sir.”

Tomura nods. They would need to be prepared if some of Big Mom’s crew were there. Same with Shanks and his crew.

“Get the men prepared for a skirmish. Big Mom won't be here, but I'd bet she'd send some of her stronger men to get my sister.”

The news of his little sister being the reason behind his sudden disregard of orders had swept through the ship quicker than scurvy. But his marines were loyal, and technically, they were still chasing after pirates, so the higher ups could be too mad at them.

“Yes, Sir!” his lieutenant snapped, and then he was off, getting the other crew members up and running.

Tomura stalked to the front of the ship, and from here, he could see the outline of your island. His mouth twists in a grimace, and he prays that he's gotten here quick enough to beat Big Mom’s crew.

However, the closer he gets, the more his chest grows tight. There is grey smoke rising into the sky on the east side of the island, and even after so long away, Tomura knows that is where the safe house is.

The shore comes into view soon, and Delemur frowns when he sees a small ship docked at the shore, a large cross on the flag. He's seen that before, but he doesn't understand why Dracule Mihawk would have a shit all the way out here. Maybe it'd been stolen?

They drop anchor in the next couple of minutes, and Tomura flies ahead and drops to the sand, taking a look around with a frown. The beach looked awful, the beautiful sands trampled all the way up to where it became grass. Most of the lush forest had been torn down, most likely caused by the larger members of the raid party. He followed the trail up, picking up the pace until he was in an all-out run.

Tomura slides to a stop, sticken at the sight before him. The entire place is a disaster, the cottage a charred husk of what it used to be. The scent of burning wood is thick in the air, and the once lush and full gardens that you had cared for have been overturned and stomped on. He can see the broken remains of a small pen on the side of the building, but there were no animals in sight.

Carefully, he steps forward, bending down to collect a shard of green sea glass that had survived the fire. The Vice-Admiral flips it end over end then pockets it before walking inside the destruction. The living room is full of burned books and clothes, the furniture broken and ashen like the rest of the house. There is a shelf holding on for dear life, an old record player with a stack of melted records resting beside it.

Tomura moves to the kitchen, taking in the shattered glass of the window and the many planters that take up the majority of counter space, each plant dry and brittle or nothing but ash. A wind chime is still intact, and he reaches forward to brush the pads of his fingers across the metal tube, frowning when the beautiful melody fills the air. That kind of sound didn't belong in such destruction.

Onward Tomura goes, learning about his little sister as best he can through the ruins of her home. Your love for music and books could easily be seen, but how could he ever know what they were? What is your favorite song to listen to now, or what you liked to do on long lazy days. Were you all alone? The pen outside suggested his sister had found animals, but where were they?

Your bedroom was in a bit better shape from the rest of the house since the door had been shut before the fire had started. Tomura carefully sits on the ashen bed, green eyes looking at everything he can as quickly as he can see. He wanted to know everything about you. He had missed so much of your life, and the regret of leaving you behind was suffocating.

Would you have been safer in the military? Maybe, but Sengoku would have taken one look at you and your devil fruit and thrown you into training, just like they did with him. Tomura didn't want that for his baby sister. He had wanted you to live a good life, even if it would be a lonely one.

His thoughts are stalled when he catches sight of what hangs in your closet. His green eyes zero in on the long coat with a high collar decorated with intricate designs. Delemur knows that coat. He has seen it on the occasional times he had run into Mihawk.

The two of them had a mutual understanding to not speak about what had happened between them. Tomura didn't like that the older man had helped Big Mom, but being in the Navy gave him a different perspective. Not to mention his own skeletons hidden away in his closet, and in the end, Mihawk had been the reason that Tomura and his sister got out alive. They were even as far as he cared.

But seeing the Warlord’s coat made him pause. The tiny ship in the bay had already been suspicious, but the coat only added to his rising confusion. All the rumors had pointed at Shanks being the one to have found you, so then why in the fuck wasn't he seeing anything that might belong to the Emperor?

The sound of a bleating goat suddenly grabs his attention, and then he picks up the sound of his men shouting. Delemur bolts out of the house and finds Mihawk's pink charge, Perona glaring daggers at his men, specifically Private Nitchell, who points a shaking pistol at the young woman. Three chickens and an ornery looking goat stand behind her.

“What the fuck is going on out here?” He demands, and glares at the private, “Stand down, Nitchell. Does she look like a threat to you?”

The young man shakes his head, a blush high on his cheeks at getting reprimanded, “No, Sir! Sorry, Sir!”

The Vice-Admiral watches Nitchell stow his weapon and back up from where the ghost girl looks ready to tear his head off. Tomura rounds on the pinkette, cockimg a brow at her.

“Perona right? The hell are you doing here?” He demands and crosses his arms over his chest, unimpressed by the glare that she proceeds to aim at him.

“What's it to you?” She spits at him and floats up, crossing her own arms. He spots several ghosts behind her and prepares to turn himself into dust if one flies at him. He'd seen what those things could do. However, his annoyance skyrockets at her answer, and Tomura is hard pressed not to reach out and try to wring her neck.

“I asked you first,” he snarls right back, and feels like he is arguing with a little kid when Perona sticks her tongue out at him.

“I was coming to visit my friend, Navy Man. You should leave before my dad gets here.”

Tomura rolls his eyes and ignores the threat, “Your friend is my little sister. How did you find this place?”

Whatever argument that Perona was hyping herself up for deflated like a popped balloon when she registered what the marine said. She looks him over, dark eyes flickering from head to toe. The more she sees, the less Perona thinks that this man is lying. He looks like you. His cheekbones and brow are a familiar and comforting sight. But what should she tell him? Perona didn't think that Mihawk would be very happy with her if she happened to spill the beans on everything that he's been doing.

Perona licks her lips and floats back down, dismissing her ghosts and setting a hand on top of Neal's head. The goat grunts at her and butts his head into her hand, happy that the only other person he tolerated had found him and the three chickens hidden away in the intact part of the forest.

“Mihawk found this place a few years ago. After a while, he told me about your sister, and I wanted to be her friend. She seemed lonely, and I know what that's like,” Perona begins and shifts her weight with a sniff. She's been here for two days looking for anything that would help them find out where Big Mom’s crew may have taken you. The only luck she had was finding your goat and chickens. Hank and Sukuna were nowhere to be found.

Tomura's hands clenched into fists at the information. Mihawk had known about you for years, and Delemur was just now finding out about it. How were Shanks involved then? To his knowledge, the redhead and the hawk stayed away from one another. Until recently, that is.

Just what the hell had his baby sister gotten up to?

“She called me five days ago and said that some of Big Mom’s crew had found her island. I came as fast as I could, but I was too late. Shanks and Mihawk are on their way here now.”

Tomura doesn't like the thought of such powerful men working together and all for the sake of his little sister. What had you done to catch their attention? Did he even want to know the answer to that?

“How long until they get here?” Tomura asks after a moment. He would wait here until they arrived. At least he wouldn't have to go tracking the pirates down. He had a couple of choice words to give both of them now that he knows that Mihawk has been here as well. That bastard had looked him in the face not four months ago and had said nothing about knowing you.

Perona shrugs at him, her face morphing into a pout, “I don't know. Another week?”

Shanks and his crew were strong enough to go through the Calm Belt if they wanted to, and that would cut their travel time down by a lot. Gloom Island was a two week trip from here by normal means.

Tomura grumbles at having to wait that long, but he isn't that much of an asshole, and so stalks forward and offers Perona his hand.

“I apologize for getting off on the wrong foot with you. My name is Tomura. Thank you for being my sister's friend.”

The ghost girl blinks dumbly up at him before tentatively taking his hand and shaking it.

“Uh. You're welcome?” Perona has never been thanked for being someone's friend before. It was a little weird, but Tomura seemed genuine and kind like you. Just a bit more…violent it seemed.

Tomura blushes and takes his hand away, rubbing them together before pointing at Neal and the chickens, hoping to change the subject.

“Are those _’s?”

Perona nods and introduces Neal and the chickens. She couldn't remember if you had named the fowl, so she had taken it upon herself to name the rooster Henry and the two hens Harriet and Henrietta. The crew of his ship piddled around the island while Perona told Tomura stories about his little sister, and soon, the sun was beginning to set on the little island. He sighs heavily and invites Perona on his ship for dinner. They may as well get to know one another if they were to be stuck on an island together for the next couple of days.

Those days pass in the blink of an eye, and it is late in the evening on the fifth day when the lookout on his ship announces that the Red Force is entering the bay. Tension skyrockets, and Perona stands away from Tomura while they watch the pirate ship navigate to the shore. She can see two people standing at the bow of the ship, and tears of relief sprout in her eyes when she spots Mihawk's wide hat.

~~~~~~

The fear and anxiety that Shanks has felt during the entire trip explodes the moment they spot the navy vessel docked at his treasure's island. Of course, the rumors had reached your brother. Shanks should have known Tomura would be on his way here to see you. He curls his haki close to himself, refusing to let the older man feel just how manic he is right now. He needed to keep his head clear for this.

Next to him, Mihawk's haki lashes like an angry snake, golden eyes wide and full of fire when he sees the ship. He recognizes who it belongs to and cuts his eyes over at Shanks, who won't even look his way. Dracule had been silent about his concerns with just how Big Mom had found out, and he doesn't like the picture that has been painted for him. He doesn't want to accuse anyone of anything until he has all the knowledge he needs.

Mihawk and Shanks flash to the shore, and the warlord gets an armful of sad ghost girl the second his feet touch sand. Perona buries her face in his chest, arms wrapping around his waist and holding the warlord tightly. Tears sprout and run down her cheeks, and Mihawk can do nothing but sigh and hold the young woman close, one hand stroking the back of her pink hair.

Shanks steps up beside him, a kind smile that he forces on his lips as he pats Perona on the back, “It's alright, kid. We're here now.”

Mihawk shoots him a grateful look, and thankfully, Perona decides to pull away, reaching up to wipe her eyes free of smeared makeup.

“It took you two long enough to get here,” She grumbles and takes a step away, turning to look over at the Vice-Admiral, “Tomura has kept me company.”

Dracule looks up and catches the Navy man's eyes, the green dark and full of suppressed rage. He doesn't expect the younger man to bypass him almost immediately, instead, aiming that almost familiar glare at Shanks. The tension deepens, and sand is kicked up by the haki that coils between the three men. Tomura wasn't anywhere near the pirate's power level, but that wasn't about to stop him. The Emperor was the one responsible for his baby sister getting taken.

“Did he, now,” Mihawk murmurs and carefully maneuvers Perona to stand slightly behind him. He didn't want her to get caught in this, and the Warlord could tell that whatever was about to happen wasn't going to be very pretty.

Tomura isn't here to beat around the bush and cuts straight to the case, “Did you have any fucking plans to tell me that you knew my sister, Mihawk? How the hell did you even find her?”

Mihawk keeps his face free of any kind of expression that may give away his true feelings. Brother or not, Mihawk wasn't in the mood to deal with this right now. Not when you were obviously still missing. What he doesn't expect is Tomura rounding on Shanks, his tone dropping and turning dangerous.

“And you, you son a bitch. You're the fucking reason my gods damned baby sister was found.”

The silence that blankets the shore of the island is deafening. Tomura grins meanly when he sees that panic that pools in Shanks’ dark eyes and stands taller, pointing an accusing finger at the redhead. Mihawk follows the gesture, his heart seizing in his chest when he catches sight of the look of devastation that paints his lover's face. He takes two steps back, bringing Perona with him, away from the man who had promised Dracule that he could trust him.

“You promised me, Shanks,” Mihawk remarks and tries to keep the hurt out of his tone, but the younger man easily picks up on it, making him feel worse than scum stuck to the bottom of his shoe. The hurt quickly turns to anger, and the warlord reaches for Yuro, the blade swinging around to point at Shanks.

“You promised me that you would keep your mouth shut! You drunken, lying bastard. I never should have put my trust in you again.”

His ringed eyes blaze with a rage Mihawk hasn't felt in decades. Not since he was young and impressionable. His heart feels shattered, and out of everything, disappointment rings through his body like a live wire. He shouldn't have allowed the redhead to pass his walls.

Shanks’ eyes widen at the threat, and he takes a couple of steps back from the wicked blade. His own hand curls around Gryphon, and Shanks braces for the fight that would no doubt happen because of his mistakes. He didn't want to fight Mihawk, but he would defend himself if the older man made the first move. He quickly began to explain before Dracule could try and take his head from his shoulders.

“I know, and I'm so sorry, Mihawk. I was drunk that night, and I missed the two of you so much. I didn't know I was being so loud until Benn told me to shut it. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

Shanks is pushed back when Mihawk's haki lashes out, his face flushed red from how angry he is at the lame excuse. How dare he.

“When are you not drunk off your ass, Shanks? There is no excuse that you can give me that will make any of this okay. _ is gone! Most likely slated to be married off to one of Charlotte’s sons because of your inability to keep your mouth shut!”

Perona grabbing him by the arm is the only thing that prevents Mihawk from following after Shanks. He glares at her, about to snap at the girl to let him go, when he sees the unshed tears and fear in her dark eyes.

“We need his help finding her, Mihawk,” Perona says, voice thick with emotion. She doesn't like seeing them fight, and it hurts seeing what she has begun to call family fall apart in front of her eyes.

Her words seem to bring everyone back to the situation at hand, and the wild haki from the three men is pulled back and settled. Tomura relaxes his shoulders, shifting his weight and glaring at the two pirates.

“She's right. Big Mom has a lot of territory. It'll take months for us to search each of her islands if we don't work together,” Delemur frowns even as he speaks, disliking the idea of working with the men who'd found his sister. What even were the three of them?

“What is she to you?” Tomura demands and regrets it the second both men look at him like he was an idiot.

“We,” Mihawk begins and then swiftly corrects himself. He didn't want anything to do with Shanks right now, “I love her. She had no idea who I was when I found her, and it was…refreshing to have someone like that. We should move quickly. _ is in a delicate state.”

Tomura doesn't even want to think about what that means and glances at Shanks for the redhead’s answer.

Shanks shifts his weight, his hand falling from his sword once Mihawk had sheathed his own, but he keeps his distance. He gives Tomura a helpless shrug.

“My crew and I drifted close to her island one day, and we got to know one another. I can admit I was jealous of what Mihawk had with her, so we made it work. The three of us.”

Tomura doesn't know what to say to that, so he keeps his mouth glued shut. How the hell had his little sister pulled not one but two of some of the most powerful men on the Grand Line. He would ask once he found her.

“I'll use whatever resources the Navy can give me to find her,” Tomura says after a moment of rather awkward silence. He reaches into his pocket and takes out two mini transponder snails, and hands them to Shanks and Mihawk.

“I'll ring you if I find anything. I hope the two of you do the same.”

Mihawk dips his head in agreement, handing the snail to Perona and Shanks pockets his. They would work together to find you, even if none of them wanted to.

“I'm going to take a look around and see if we can't find something that'll lead us in the right direction,” Shanks says and whistles loudly to signal to his crew that it was fine to disembark from the ship now. He chances a glance at Mihawk, but the dark-haired man refuses to look his way. He frowns, guilt eating him up from the inside out before he lopes away without a word.

“Perona and I will head to the New World and begin our search,” Mihawk says and then he struts to the ship Perona had taken from his island, not bothering to look back at the Vice-Admiral. He can't bring himself to search the island. Dracule had seen the smoke curling into the sky, and seeing whatever remained of his home away from home would only make the hurt worse.

Tomura is left standing alone on the white sands, and he sighs heavily, looking out over the crashing waves. He smooths his white hair away from his forehead, and he murmurs to himself.

“Where the hell did they take you, Princess.”

~~~~~~

Thousands of miles away, you are escorted past hallways full of mirrors that make you feel dizzy if you look too closely. You cast your eyes back to the floor, one hand tangled in the fur of Hank's shaggy coat and the other holding Sukuna close to your chest. Your pets had chased after the men who had dragged you kicking and screaming from the tiny cave you'd forced yourself into.

Surprisingly, once they had seen that you were pregnant, the men had handled you with much more care and had even allowed you to take the cat and dog with you. Despite not wanting to leave, you had been much more willing once they assured you that you could have them. Hank and Sukuna were the only two things keeping you sane right now.

Sukuna wouldn't stop hissing, a constant low growl echoing in the hallway. His tail was poofed, and he glared at everyone with furious golden eyes. Hank fared no better, his hackles raised, and his ears pulled up. He stayed pressed against his human’s legs as they walked, unwilling to let you out of his sight.

It wasn't long before your group stopped at massive double doors that creaked open. You waltz inside, relieved at the lack of creepy mirrors, but that relief disappears the moment your eyes lay on who hovers in the middle of the room. She is the biggest human you've ever seen, sitting atop a cloud that glares down at you.

Beside her, another massive man stands. He has deep purplish hair, and the bottom half of his face is covered in a black and white scarf. He wears an open vest, and you can see a tattoo running down his exposed chest.

“It's about time you showed up,” Big Mom’s booming voice startles you, and you cut your eyes up to look at her. She grins down at you, her smile wicked as she looks you over.

“Such a pretty young thing. You'll make a nice wife for my son Katakuri. Don't you think so?”

@writingmysanity @djbumblebee @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz @fluffybunnyu @bookandstar @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @anastasiyax @jaguarthecat @atricksterwithwings @black-swan-blog27 @breadedloafs @enpvrirnce @gottalovethefandom

[habit-poxly]

always forever

Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!reader

description: you and Simon spend the evening together in a rented cabin, taking a hard earned vacation while he’s on leave. 

domestic fluff, unedited

word count: 1.6k

A bright display of pinks and oranges broke through the thin kitchen curtains, the setting sun nearly halfway gone behind the reaching tips of the evergreens in the distance. Fireflies danced in the wild grass outside, the smell of campfire wafted in the air, the mountains in the distance kissed the darkening sky, and the old cabin creaked in the wind.

The drive out to the mountains had been tedious: unmarked roads, unhelpful locals, and no working GPS certainly hadn’t created a vacation environment. Nevertheless, you two had arrived- albeit 2 hours behind schedule- and it had been decided to be worth it immediately. A swimming lake sat only a 5-minute walk from the lot the small cabin was sat on, although you don’t see you and Simon swimming at the public dock area; walking together until you find a tucked away beach would be much more preferable to him anyways.

“ ‘right lovie, what do you need me doing?” Simon slips his hand around the curve of your waist, fingers gently rubbing back and forth, waiting to be helpful. You had been preparing dinner for the past half an hour, now peeling the potatoes you had just washed. Simon had already unloaded the car and brought the bags to the locations they were supposed to be, he had lit the firepit outside and changed the sheets on the bed- frankly you were running out of things to get him to do.

“Wanna roll up the meatballs, baby?” You hum, leaning up and pecking Simon on the jaw as he leans over you to watch want you’re doing. His other hand moves to rest on the other side of your waist; he squeezes and nods, his hands staying firmly on your hips. Peering at his exposed lips you see a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, you knew how much he adored small moments like this- if he could he would hang them up as pictures in your home, each one held so close to his heart.

After washing his hands he begins rolling the spiced ground beef in his palms, enjoying the fading sunset shoulder-to-shoulder with you. So many times on deployment you had been why he fought so hard to come home- as cheesy as it was, it was you and him forever. Two people forever entangled until the end. That's how he saw it at least. 

“Do you want to go on a hike or to the lake tomorrow? The weather is supposed to be perfect” Your gentle voice had always sent shivers down his spine- reducing him to a puddle in your palm at a whim.

Simon let out a hum, attention still focused on not making the meatballs horribly misshapen.

“You wanted to use that picnic set you bought, yeah? Let’s take a walk down to the lake tonight and find a spot for the morning.” He glanced up at you, the smile gracing your face making you glow in the sunlight- the way it fluttered off your eyelashes making his heart skip a beat at the sight of you.

“Sounds romantic, had a whole little date planned in your head, hm?” You teased, pink flushing your face. He chuckles, bending down to place a soft kiss on your cheek.

“Got tons of ‘em, love” He adored the person he became in your presence: calm, caring, romantic, free of heavy burden for the time. You adored him for it, too. The way his hands- calloused and rough from a lifetime of hard work- would run down your body like you were the most valuable thing in the world, the way he would breathe life into you and build you high. 

“How are none of them the same fucking size?!” Simon places the last meatball down, none of them lumpy yet most of them are either a tad bit too large or a tad bit too small.

“I’m hopeless at cooking.” He huffs, turning on the sink to wash his hands again. Choking back a giggle, you poke your finger lightly into his side. “Don’t worry, darling. You’ve done a wonderful job, look!” You point at the much smaller group, “I prefer Swedish meatballs anyways”

A wide grin plants itself on his face as he shakes his head at you.  The rest of dinner hadn’t taken much longer to make. It was very good, as Simon always finds your cooking. Tonight it had been homemade meatballs, mashed potatoes, and gravy- he suspected you had planned every meal this week around his favourites. He adored the way you tended to him like that: filling his glass, sneaking more food into his plate, encouraging him to go for seconds, storing away leftovers so they’re easy for him to pop in the microwave later- it all. As a child, he had grown a fear of appearing like he was overeating, something that would have warranted punishment in his earlier years, yet the way you would take care of him made all that melt away.

After cleaning up you two moved to sit by the firepit outside wrapped in a thick quilt. You had your own camping chair, intact it sat right beside Simon’s- something which he set up. But the second you got close enough he had slithered his arm around your waist and pulled you into the warmth of his lap. This was one of, by far, his favourite things to do with you. He had a cigar he had been gifted by Price in his hand, taking large puffs in between pauses in your stories or his jokes. His hand ran soothingly up and down your thigh under the blanket, his lips kissing up your neck and whispering breathy sighs into your ear.

“ it’s a beautiful property, we should rent this cabin again next summer” You muse eyes dancing over the darkened tree line, Simon hums into the soft flesh of your shoulder.

“Inside could use an update.” He adds, “Not sure if we’ll be having sex on the bed this week, love. ‘Afraid the old thing will fall apart.” Simon grins as you elbow him in the stomach, scoffing with a smile at the comment.

“It’s an old cabin, I think the broken furniture gives it character.” You lean your weight back, rolling your head so it rests on his shoulder. Your eyes dance over the strong features of his face- deep bags still chiselled into his under eyes from his latest deployment.

“I know what you mean though. The paint colour choices are ridiculous- who paints a bathroom that horrible orange? It’s wonderful architecture- that kitchen would look beautiful with the blue that’s in our bedroom at home.” Simon had been nodding along to you as you spoke, interior design was something he had struggled with his whole life- his apartment bare before you moved in.

 Regardless of how many times he had told you that you still always made him feel included when it came to decorating. It was both of your homes, not just the house he pays for and you decorate as so many other men like him had. “It’s too small, we’d need more room if we were going to buy a place like this. You want a Green House, yeah?” Simon's head turns back to look at the outside of the cabin- it was one bed one bath, perfect for the two of you for the moment but his mind was set on the future. His arms moved to wrap around your waist- holding you tight to him.

“Yeah-“ you nod “ I’d want something with a cute wrap-around porch too. We’d have to have room for your office- if we got a house with a nice big basement we could get that pool table you want. Put a bar down there too so you and the boys can watch football.”

He hums happily, nodding along with you. “Next time I’m on leave I’ll take some more time off, we’ll go look at some houses and find something we like- ‘wouldn’t worry about renovations, I could have all that done.”

He understood the commitment that would be, a commitment he never felt the want to take on until he met you. Things like settling down, getting married and starting a family never seemed on the table for him- until you waddled into his life and cracked his hard exterior. He wanted it more than anything now- to come home to a bustling young family in a beautiful home.

“Simon- really?” You mutter, the surprise lacing your voice and causing nervousness to bubble in his stomach. For a brief moment, he feared he had messed it all up- that you would pull away from him for such a recommendation and inform him you would never dream of spending your life with him. But, he nods anyway; anxiety clear as day spread out across his face.

Shifting in his lap you move to straddle him, arms snaking around his neck as his hands settle on your hips- pulling you tighter against him.

As if on pure instinct his lips move to meet yours- the kiss being instantly reciprocated with desperate noises and your fingers tangling through his messy blond hair. He had long slipped his tongue into your mouth, as if he was consuming you- or trying to. Simon was a starved man, starved his whole life until you came with the offer of endless fullness; how could he ever possibly deny you?

His strong hands pull your hips into his, making your legs shake with under the warmth of the blanket. Pulling away leaves a small string of saliva between the two of you- which a quick peck from Simon fixes.

“Are you sure?” You whisper lips still mere inches from his own. He has never expressed any desire for commitment other than the relationship you had now. You were his, his partner, you had been for quite some time, yet there had been no mention of anything similar to this.

“I’m sure, darling.“ he kisses you again, this time deep and slow, “ I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

[50stradwife]

Welcome to my blog!! 🎀💒

Here I’ll be posting anything related to traditional living, femininity, homemaking, cottagecore, homesteading, Christian living, and all things vintage.

I’ve had tumblr blogs in the past, but I wanted to make this brand new one to find a different community that I connect to.

Now about me! Mainly my religious journey, but it’s entirely defined who I am, so my apologies in advance 💕🧺

I’ve lived in sin my entire life so far. I am 20 years old, and up until I was 18, I was very far gone. (I’m going to censor certain words so I don’t reach those communities) I was practicing w!tchcraft, p4ganism, even s4tan!sm. My entire family was the exact same way, in fact all of the women in my family all practice w!tchcraft. I was never even exposed to the bible, Jesus, or God. Along with those, I went through all the motions of believing I was a different gender, or interested in the same sex. I am not, and I realize now how much society and just my generation around me had manipulated me to the point I seriously believed I was.

When I was 18 and finally free of my home life, I got my first job, and that’s where I met my now fiancé. He has been a devout christian his entire life, and even though we had such different mindsets when we met, we fell in love and he knew he had to save me. I am forever grateful to God for bringing him to me, and me to him.

I started reading a study Bible, and once I finished that, I went to read the entire Bible start to finish. My entire life changed and I had suddenly felt truly happy for the first time in my life. Before I found God, I struggled with anxiety, depression, and even suspected I had other worse mental disorders because I just felt so sick in the head. I feel none of that now, and it’s all because of Him.

We’ve been together for two years, and this year God blessed us with a welcome surprise, our first child. I’m currently 13 weeks pregnant as I make this post! Just before we found out he proposed, and we are so excited to create a traditional and Godly life for our new family.

I’m still repenting for all of the sins of my past, and I strive to become closer and closer with God every single day. I want my lifestyle to reflect his vision, while also enjoying myself and my newfound femininity. I spent so long thinking I needed to play the same role as a man, and I’ve never felt so free as I do now!

Sorry sorry sorry for that whole tangent, I doubt anyone actually cares!! I hope I can find likeminded people on here, as I haven’t had much luck anywhere else 💕✝️🌷

[pencilpat]

You Do Not Have to be Good - moceit

Patton hates alcohol. Not particularly for a moral reason, it just tastes godawful to him. But he came to Janus's room for a distraction, and goshdarnit he'll take it. He cringes through a sip as they sit on the floor, and Janus laughs.

"Oh, Patton, it's cider. Barely any alcohol at all, and you can barely stomach even that." As if to prove a point, Janus swings back his bottle and takes a sip so large he gulps audibly. Patton can't help a small giggle, even as bad as he feels.

"Gosh, Jan, I don't know how you and Logan handle this stuff."

"Simple. We're not man-babies."

Patton laughs and lightly punches Janus's shoulder, coaxing the smallest of smiles from the other man. He settles back against the wall. Janus isn't used to guests, aside from one who isn't a fan of sitting 'properly,' so he has no chairs strewn around his room the way the light sides do.

Janus tilts the liquid around in his bottle with a sigh. "Care to tell me what brought you to me today? My room isn't exactly one of our typical 'spots'."

"Oh! Oh, nothing special or anything, just checking up on you," he says, flashing a winning smile.

"How many times are we going to visit each other before you remember you can't lie to me?" Janus states bluntly, not looking at Patton at all, his eyes fixed on the blank wall across from them.

"Whu- uh- lying? I'm not-"

"How many times will I have to say that sentence? You can not follow 'you can't lie to me' up with a lie, Patton, that's not how this works."

"Look I- I don't really want to talk about it. I came to hang out with you, I don't wanna just-"

"So you're going to talk to one of the others then, yes?" Janus's eyes flit over the fading dark blue in Patton's hair. "How about Logan? I'm sure he'd totally be helpful here, I mean, being so good with his emotions."

Patton frowns at him and Janus sighs, rewording. "All I mean is, you don't talk to anyone else, so it stands to reason that if I don't get you to spit it out, you'll keep 'doing your thing' and only ever talking about how you feel at a surface level while letting the pressure below build and build until you blow up. Am I wrong?"

Patton blinks at him, and then turns away, curling his legs up towards his body and squeezing his free hand's nails into his palm. He's taken to doing that lately, though he doesn't know why. Someone says something that hurts, and he digs his nails deep into his skin or bites his lip so hard it bleeds, then the pain is gone. Dig, dig, gone. "That's not very kind, Janus."

Janus shrugs. The sun is beginning to set, and the room is going golden, the dark walls being cast in the shadows of Janus's blinds. "If someone was never anything but kind, they'd be a liar. I don't want to lie to you forever."

"You don't?"

"Oh wow, yeah, sound shocked about that, sure." Janus rolls his eyes, but he doesn't look angry. "Patton, it's stupid to keep going like you are. Look, if anyone can keep secrets, it's you and me - I'm the best one to talk to here. None of the others seem smart enough to notice how messed up you've been."

Patton cringes, and takes a drink of his cider, which makes him cringe harder. "I'm not... that bad, am I? That obvious?"

"It's pretty bad, dad," Janus sighs. He finally looks at the other man, meeting his eyes. "I promise, okay? And I don't do that lightly. I won't speak a word of whatever is bothering you."

Patton's brow furrows, and he breathes out slowly. He digs his nails into his palm again. Breathes again. Just the offer of talking is threatening to bust down year old dams, but perhaps Janus is right, and this needs to happen. And... he did promise. He's never done that before.

"It's not exactly simple to explain... I guess it's just- it's like- I'm-" Patton sighs, frustrated. "I just don't know anymore if- if I'll ever get it right."

"Right?"

"Being morality. Being... good." Patton's voice strains, and he wipes at his face. "I don't know if I can ever be good, be good enough, be good at my job. I've been messing up nearly everything lately! I can't keep Thomas good, and when I do try to keep him good, I end up being an overbearing jerk. I can't seem to make Roman happy, or Virgil anymore, and," Patton plays with the fringe tips of blue in his hair, almost subconsciously, "I can't make Logan feel good either. We used to be so, so close. Worked through all of our issues, we were really good friends! But he's been so- look, I know he says he doesn't feel anything, but I can tell he's feeling something! And he won't tell any of us about it."

Janus drinks, reserving information as he always does. Patton is upset enough, now's not the time.

"All I've ever wanted was to be good," his voice breaks, and he clears his throat, blinking back hot tears. "Ever since I've existed, I've wanted to be good. What would it mean for Thomas if his morality isn't good?! Maybe you were right, I'm just pointing him towards hell. I'm not doing my job right. How can I be messing up so much? I used to be the one who the others looked at to know everything..." He bites his lip hard, but it doesn't do anything this time. He's crying now, wiping the sleeve of his cat hoodie across his face furiously.

"Who says you have to be good?"

"What?"

Janus sighs, sipping his drink. "'You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.' Mary Oliver. Goodness isn't necessary one hundred and twenty-five percent of the time. You're an animal like any other, and you only need do what makes you happy, just like any other. You're not some divine being above the ability to screw up or be sad."

"You and Thomas's religious sensibilities are very tied together. You're stuck on this idea that as morality, you can only ever have good and pure ideas. You can never make mistakes, and you can never be wrong. Look, sure, we're no humans, but you're a piece of a human, and they're kind of renowned for their mistake making. I've told you before, Patton. If you're making a genuine effort to do better, then your apologies mean enough. You've repented. You didn't even need to, but you do anyway. Because you're good, as much as a side can be. You're so good you make me sick sometimes. I was being a dick when I said you're pointing him towards hell, being a dick is kind of my thing. I don't think you're even capable of knowingly being a bad person."

Patton feels tears pour down his face, staring sightlessly at his bottle as Janus rants. He's drawn blood from his lip. The words are making some deep piece of him ache worse than he has in years. Without thinking, he sets his head on Janus's shoulder. Janus barely blinks, leaning into him as he continues.

"You do make the others happy, Patton. They love you so much it's gross. But they have issues as well. Issues that are getting worse as Thomas's mental health is plummeting. All pieces of Thomas have gripes and qualms right now, I don't understand you all's strange insistence on everything being fine. Want me to lie? Everything is just fine! Why, nothing is eating at any of you, and you're at the peak of your lives!" Janus sighs, eyes closing. "It's okay to experience pain, you know. It doesn't make you bad. Nor does making mistakes. It makes you a living thing, as caught up in your own world and worries as every other living thing. You're doing okay, Patton. You'll never be perfect, but I watch you do everything you can every day. For crying out loud, let that soft animal of 'you' catch a break."

Patton sniffs, letting out a shaking sigh. "Why does hearing all that hurt me?"

"Because you've never heard it before, probably. Has anyone, ever, at all, told you to give yourself a break?"

"I... I guess not, not really. I don't know. I don't feel like I deserve it."

"I say you deserve it. If you won't listen to yourself, listen to me. Listen to a... friend."

Patton nearly physically startles at that word coming from Janus. "Friend?"

"If you make me repeat myself we're never having these visits again, watch it."

"We're friends?" Patton lifts his head, grinning despite his tear streaked face. Janus makes a frustrated noise, his face going red, but he lets Patton hug him nonetheless. Patton laughs, despite it all, holding Janus against his chest. The parts of his heart that were aching feel suddenly wrapped in warmth, like a heating pad on a pained muscle. And as Janus sets aside his drink and properly returns the hug, Patton's heart feels so many things, but mostly, at least for now, it feels at peace.

"Are you going to actually give yourself a rest, or did literally all of that go in one ear and out the other?"

Patton laughs. "Thanks, Janus. Really, thank you. Um. Not going to tell anyone still, right?"

"Of course," Janus places a hand on his heart and holds the other up in a pledge. "We both have trouble verbalizing emotions anyways."

"Can't say I'm surprised! Get it? Can't say?"

"Yes, Patton, I got it," Janus rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. "You know I just hate puns."

"Liar liar!"

[burnwater13]

Kuiil with Grogu in his home on Arvala-7. Image from The Mandalorian, Season 1, Episode 7, The Reckoning. Calendar by DateWorks.

Caption: And we do it not for payment, but to protect the Child from Imperial slavery. None will be free until the old ways are gone forever. - Kuiil

“None will be free until the old ways are gone forever.”

Grogu could still hear Kuiil’s words echoing in his mind. He missed the Ugnaught. He had been kind, helpful, thoughtful, and generous with his time and his skills. It was Grogu’s considered opinion that Kuiil would have made an excellent Jedi. 

He was also pretty sure that Cara Dune didn’t agree with Grogu about that at all. She had been very upset with the Ugnaught. At first, Grogu thought it was all about Kuiil saying that the former drop trooper looked like she was a clone. Not a ‘Clone’ from the Clones Wars clones, but from a general population of clones from the cytocaves of Nora. 

Grogu had no way to know if that was true or not. He could say he’d never seen anyone else who looked just exactly like Cara Dune, but then he hadn’t actually met everyone in the galaxy either. It was possible. Kuiil was knowledgeable about such things since he’d worked in the gene farms. If any of the four of them were going to know one way or the other, it was probably Kuiil. Cara hadn’t liked that information, but clones were people, right?

Anyway as that meeting continued, it became clear that Cara was pretty upset that Kuiil had worked for the Imps. Grogu had expected Din Djarin to come to the Ugnaught’s defense because he clearly didn’t have a problem working with someone who might have once been on the other side of that whole mess, but the Mandalorian was unfortunately, characteristically silent. 

Kuiil wasn’t. He explained why he had ‘worked’ for them and all the choices he had. It was pretty simple. Save his family and kin folk, or give up. Kuiil wasn’t a quitter and Grogu was grateful for that. He was a pragmatic person who had learned a lot during his life and did what he could to make a difference. 

Cara was just lucky that Kuiil didn’t ask her why she had problems with her chain code. She hadn’t always toed the line. She had said as much when they first met her on Sorgan. She thought the Mandalorian had come after her. What had she done that anyone would put a bounty on her head? You don’t get a fob without a reason, even if it’s a crummy reason which Grogu knew all about.

Eventually they agreed to disagree. Which Grogu found weird. Grogu was pretty sure that Kuiil wasn’t pro-Imperium. He had been pro-saving his clan from the Imps. Cara Dune had been from Alderaan. She knew what it was like to lose friends and family because of the Imperium. She fought them one way and Kuiil fought them a different way. They both still fought them. 

At the time Grogu didn’t have an opportunity to talk to either of them about the issue and the Mandalorian had mostly been silent about the whole thing, except for the fact that Kuiil went with them to Nevarro and paid for protecting Grogu with his life. 

Grogu didn’t know if Cara Dune had been sad about that or not. The Mandalorian had been. Grogu was pretty sure that his beskar encased protector had cried over losing their friend. His voice was subtly different when they were back on the Razor Crest and he had taken a long time in the privy. Grogu figured he’d washed his face because he absolutely hadn’t shaved his whiskers off. Grogu could still hear them scratching the inside of the Mandalorian’s helmet. 

Now, well, they were on Nevarro in their cabin. Din Djarin was a land owner there. Grogu had been adopted and was now called Din Grogu. He was also a Knight of Plazir-15. The actual official title was pretty long and Grogu only mentioned when he wanted to bug his dad about being asked to do extra chores. Grogu wondered what Kuiil would think of all the changes. 

Would he be proud of them? Would he laugh when he saw that IG-11 had become IG-12, and then IG-11-M? He had told the Mandalorian that it mattered who the droid imprinted on and it had. IG-11-M was a marshal, protecting the fine people of Nevarro. He didn’t have to follow the ‘old ways’ that had made Grogu the target of the assassin droid’s skills. 

Cara Dune was off on some sort of super secret mission for the New Republic with a chain code that no longer reflected her checkered past. It was like she had paid a debt for herself and that made a difference. 

Just as importantly, Moff Gideon was gone, more or less. The person who had supported the Empire with the work of his hands and mind because he wanted what the Empire was doing to last, was finally gone from their lives. Grogu hoped that was true. The Moff had tricked them before and anyone so tied up in cloning experiments wasn’t likely to have forgotten their own history when it would allow them to ‘live’ forever. That’s really what Kuiil’s voice was reminding him about. 

They had to make sure that the old ways were gone forever. That wasn’t something that took a quick trip to Mand’alor and the ability to wield the Force. They would have to work on it every day, like their lives depended on it. Because they did. 

But until they had to put their armor back on and set aside hand carving wooden flutes, Grogu planned on having a lazy day, looking at the clouds, eating dung worms, and maybe taking his dad fishing. He’d found a new pond and it was only half a Mandalorian deep, which was obviously good for his dad. 

He still hadn’t managed to find the time to teach his dad to swim. Someday, when the old ways were gone forever. Grogu has spoken.

Kuiil speaking to the Mandalorian (out of frame) on Arvala-7, near the blurrg corral. Image from The Mandalorian, Season 1, Episode 7, The Reckoning.

Caption: None will be free until the old ways are gone forever.

[skolworthy]

Dost Mother Know? (A Series)

Summary: You are a single mom out in the dating realm, however perhaps this wasn't the realm that you needed to be exploring?

Warnings: None yet, I think?

Word Count: The fuck if I know.

Pairings/Interactions: Thor Odinson x reader, Random interactions with other Avengers throughout, Thor doing his best to impress an eight year old Earth kid

When Thor talk, it be like this. Everyone other than reader, be like this.

--------

This was why you never went on dates anymore. This was exactly why. If the guy wasn’t completely full of himself, or if he didn’t make eye contact with you at all and just stared at your chest the majority of the night, then he was spewing off some random information regarding his knowledge of the migration patterns of European Swallows. Such was the case this evening, to which you had to politely fake an excuse to leave, because this date was going to go no further when the man was more concerned with educating her on avian behavior than to get to know you. Sighing, you adjusted the shoulder strap of your hand bag as it hung from your shoulder while you slowly trudged your way back home in defeat. It truly was a walk of defeat, you had gone all out with getting gussied up and looking nice, just to get your hopes up once again about the possibility of this time, maybe this time, there would be some sort of spark. You brought out your phone and checked the few messages you had on it and gave a smirk at what they said before you slid the device back into your bag and then paused at the crosswalk you had just arrived at. Cars went by, some faster than others, for this was a busy city after all, and so you expected to be standing there for a few minutes until the light would finally change. You felt your stomach growl, giving an internal sigh at the fact that you had just been at a rather nice restaurant that you had been wanting to try for forever, and you hadn’t even been able order anything while there due to the fact the guy kept waving the waiters off because he couldn’t shut up about the birds. Now your mind had to go over what you possibly had at home that you could heat up quickly and eat before your stomach decided to digest itself. The light finally changed and once the ‘walk’ sign lit up, you continued your lonely trek through the crosswalk and toward the other side of the street, your head still going over the whole dating perspective. Why even bother to look for men? It always ended in disaster and disappointment, maybe it was time to just let the right guy find you? 

You gasped when suddenly as you went to lift up your left leg, you found that you couldn’t and you looked down to see that the heel of your shoe was perfectly wedged into the little hole on the manhole cover in the middle of the crosswalk. Seriously, what were the odds? You bent down and took hold of your ankle and tugged, but it was stuck in there rather snug apparently. “You have got to be kidding me.” you said as you tried to wiggle the heel loose to no avail. Suddenly you heard the ding of the timer for the crosswalk and you looked up to see it counting down from 10 and you cursed under your breath and continued to try and work your heel free. It was no good. You cursed more, mostly at yourself for having chosen a pair of heels that had so many straps and clasps on them too. You knelt down as much as you could in the tight black dress you were wearing and tried to unclasp some of the straps, your fingers fumbling to do so accurately as suddenly you heard the sound of tires screeching. Looking up you noticed a car that had just turned onto the street that you were stuck on, going at a dangerous speed and apparently not noticing you were there at all…for they were not slowing down. Your fingers worked faster, trying to get those damn straps unlatched, glancing up now and then to see that the car was growing closer and closer and still not slowing down. This was how you were going to die apparently, because of a stupid shoe and some moron that was most likely looking at his cell phone. You began to try to pull your foot from the shoe, ignoring the pain of the straps cutting into your skin as you did so, yet it wasn’t proving to work fast enough and you had just begun to accept your sad fate when suddenly someone jumped in front of you and when the car struck them, it came to a complete stop. The hood of the car caved in a bit from the force of hitting the person, which honestly made no sense to you at all but your brain did not question it right now. The car’s back end slammed back down against the pavement, having gone up a bit from the force of the hit and the person within it, you could hear groaning from the impact of the airbag that had deployed. Still somewhat kneeling there, you stared at the back of the man that had just saved your life and blinked a few times, slowly standing up and letting your bag drop from your shoulder as you felt everything begin to spin around you. 

The man turned, completely ignoring the driver and moved over to where you were, looking down at you, his eyes searching over you for a moment for signs of injury. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice deep and with an accent that just was enough to send chills down any young woman’s spine. Had you been completely in your right mind and not in a daze of ‘I almost died’, you would have eventually recognized the individual standing before you as one you had seen on the news quite often whenever the planet needed saving. Everything was still spinning around you slowly as you stood there, the man’s voice once again ringing through your ears and you gave a slight nod of your head, only aggravating the feeling of dizziness. “I-I’m fine.” you said. “Are you certain?” he said this time, clearly not convinced for now you were somewhat swaying back and forth upon your legs until you felt yourself slowly fall backwards. You recalled feeling someone’s arms gently wrap around you and catch you from your fall, but then everything went black. 

—--

The sound of a door sliding open and shutting with a click caused your eyelids to flutter a bit, your head moving back and forth as you fought the urge to slip back under into the state of unconsciousness you had been in before. Finally your eyes were able to open a bit, though everything around you had a blurred haze around it as you looked around. From what you were able to tell as you blinked a few times to clear your vision, you were in a room, bedroom maybe, as it had a closet, television, door that was cracked to show a bathroom with the light on within. Now that your vision had cleared up some, you propped yourself up on your elbows and you were able to see that this room, while it had a modern look to it when it came to the architecture and design, was filled with things that were more…well…classic. From a suit of armor in the corner, to shields upon the wall. Though upon closer inspection, they were not just any shields, but viking shields, and there were a few random artifacts decorating the room until your eye stopped on the one that stood out the most. Upon the dresser across from the bed that you were lying upon, sat a large hammer and it was one that you knew well from new footage and tv shows and the like. The famous Mjolnir, in all its glory, just sat there across from you and you could swear you were able to hear a faint humming coming from it. Wait, maybe that wasn’t humming. It sounded more like buzzing. Immediately you searched around you for your phone, leaning up a bit and over to look at the floor where you finally found your bag. You quickly reached inside your bag and pulled out your phone, tapping the screen and feeling your heart sink when you saw just how many missed calls and messages there were, knowing full and well who had sent them. 

You were about to unlock your phone to respond to the messages when the door to the bathroom suddenly opened and the man from last night stepped out, clad in nothing but a pair of jeans and his hair still pulled back in that low ponytail, a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. Your eyes couldn’t help it, they were glued to his god like body as he walked quietly over to the dresser where he then pulled open one of the drawers and began to rummage around in it. You…you were in Thor’s room. This was apparently the Avenger’s compound and…you were on his bed. Wait…what happened last night? Oh shit, did you two…no wait…it was suddenly all coming back to you as you sat there, still staring helplessly at the way that his muscles moved along his back as his hands sifted through the shirts in the drawer. Your phone suddenly slipped from your fingers and landed with a loud thud against the carpeted floor, which caused Thor to turn around and look at you, reaching up and taking the toothbrush out of his mouth and wiping his hand against his lips to get rid of any toothpaste residue. You watched silently, your throat drying out immediately and your heart going insane within your chest as he made his way over to the side of the bed near you and knelt down, picking up your phone and lifting his eyes to meet yours as he handed it back to you. The distance between you two was minimal, so much so that you were able to see the very faint freckles that he had here and there against the bridge of his nose and cheeks, no doubt he could see all of yours since you were covered in them practically. “I am glad to see you awake, I was beginning to worry.” he said as he continued to hold the phone out toward you, which you finally took, noticing how his fingers brushed against yours lightly when you took it from him. “I…” you were unable to form words. Here was this god of a man, knelt down on the floor right in front of you, shirtless and just gazing at you with what you assumed was curiosity and intrigue and all the while you were lying delicately atop his bed. Oh the feeling that generated from just this knowledge was enough to send your hormones into a tickled frenzy, but this could have spurred from the fact you had long been without a successful date and hey, you finally made it into a man’s bed! Heh…

“Thank you, for last night.” you finally managed to say as you then sat up on the bed and moved your legs over the side of it, instantly regretting doing so for that brought you right there in front of him, as he continued to kneel in front of you. His eyes moved from your legs, traveled up your thighs and then torso, shamelessly pausing at your chest before they moved up to meet yours and he gave a small smile before pushing himself up to a standing position. Which was honestly even more intimidating than his kneeling, though your attention was brought back when you noticed that you did not have your shoes on, which made sense with you being on the bed. Your toes dug a little against the carpet and Thor’s eyes went down to your feet and he chuckled before turning and walking over to the corner where he stooped down and picked up your shoes, bringing them over. “I am afraid that I was not able to save this one.” he said, holding up the one that had been stuck in the manhole cover, the heel was completely gone now. You gave a slight chuckle and shrugged your shoulders as you took the shoes in your hands and looked down at them. “I never really liked them much anyway.” you said as you then began to put them on your feet and then when you stood up, the idiot that you were not thinking about this, you fell forward from the fact that you had only one heel now, your body and face slapping against Thor’s bare chest in the processes as he caught hold of you. Holy shit the mortification. He gave a laugh that you could literally feel rattle from his chest, into your own body as it was pressed up against his and he then slid his hands down to your arms and moved you backward to sit down upon the edge of the bed, leaned down and lifted your foot. He then took the other heel and snapped it off with no effort at all and then tossed it over his shoulder as he then stood back up, and held his hands out toward you. “Fixed. I do not recall being given your name?” he said as he wrapped his fingers around your hands once you had slipped them into his and he effortlessly pulled you to your feet again. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’m not sure where my manners went. I’m y/n.” you said with a smile, though it quickly turned into an almost slack jawed expression when one of his hands that had still been holding onto yours, brought your hand up and he brushed a kiss against the top of it, giving a smile afterward. “A most befitting name, my lady.” He then lowered your hand and released them both before he gave a nod of his head, almost like a bow. “I have a feeling you may already know mine.” You were about to open your mouth when suddenly your phone buzzed again, this time more violently, indicating more than one text message coming through at one time. You looked down at the phone and then back up at him. “I’m so sorry, I really need to get home.” you said. He looked at you for a second, his eyebrow raising slightly before giving a nod and then he went over to the door and opened the door, walking out of the room a bit. “Stark!” You paused as you stood there, for some reason having forgotten just where exactly you were until you heard the voice of Tony Stark answer as he came down the hallway. “You know, what would you have done if I was on the other side of the compound? Just scream louder?” he said as he slid his hands into his pockets. “Can transport be acquired for Miss y/n to take her home?” Thor said, moving aside from the doorway, thus revealing you as you stood there next to Thor’s bed. Tony’s eyebrows shot up a bit as he looked at you and then at Thor, his shirtlessness, and the fact that you had a little bit of tousled hair from sleeping all night. “About damn time, Point Break. I was wondering when you’d move on from little Miss Astrophysics.” he said, reaching up and clapping him on the shoulder. Your face immediately turned red and you moved forward. “He saved my life last night and I passed out, that’s all.” Tony smirked as he pulled out his phone from his pocket and began to type on it. “I’m sure that’s what they all say the morning after.” Your jaw dropped slightly and your face turned even more red and Thor gave an aggravated sigh before moving past you and going to his dresser, where he grabbed a shirt and then pulled it over his head and covered up his delightful body before turning back to you. “Please allow me to escort you home, I’d like to make sure you get there safely?” 

Really, you were unable to say anything, the chauvinistic gesture, something that you were not used to and so all you could do was give a nod. He smiled and then gestured for you to leave the room first and he followed you out until he then took the lead, since you had no idea which way to go and you followed him to the entrance. When you got there, a fancy black car pulled up and Thor opened the back door for you to which you gave a small smile and slid into the car and to the other side. You told the driver where to go and the car then began to move, the ride that followed a little awkward and silent until Thor cleared his throat. “So how did you come to find yourself in that situation last night?” You took in a deep breath and then let it out as a sigh and tucked some of your hair behind your ear as you looked at the floor of the backseat you were sitting in. “Bad date.” You said simply, with a shrug of your shoulders as you glanced over at him, suddenly wishing you hadn’t because he was full on gazing down at you as you sat there. Geeze, this guy was not shy in the least, was he? “I see. What did he do to earn you running away?” “He wouldn’t stop talking about the migration pattern of some birds.” Thor’s face turned to where he was staring at the back of the headrest and then he pursed his lips, gave a nod and then was silent for a few moments before he looked back at her. “At least you have some new knowledge?” This made a small smile form upon your lips, which brought one to his as well as the driver then alerted them that they were arriving at the destination and this brought you to lean forward a bit in anticipation to jump out of the car once it was fully stopped. When the car came to a stop, you didn’t hesitate before flinging the door open on your side and running up the sidewalk, to the door, throwing it open and then heading up the steps to the floor that your apartment was on, Thor wide eyed and confused, slowly catching up behind you.

You stopped at your apartment door and began to fumble with your keys, dropping them once and cursing, bending down to get them and then proceeded to unlock it as Thor walked toward you, his mouth somewhat open like he was going to say something, but you opened the door as a boy was walking through the hallway. He stopped and turned toward you as you grabbed hold of him and pulled him into a tight hug as you fell to your knees on the floor. “Mom? What are you doing?” “I’m so sorry I didn’t come home last night like I said I would, are you okay?” “Yeah, Grandma just said that meant your date went well.” The face you made at that…good grief mother. “No, it didn’t go well. But I can exp-” before you finished your sentence, the toy that your son had in his hand clattered to the ground as you still were hugging him against you and you leaned back to look at his face. His expression was that of awe and also confusion and you slowly turned and looked behind you to the doorway where you saw Thor standing in the doorway, completely dwarfing it, watching the two of you with a raised eyebrow. “Mom, is that…Thor?” he asked, his eyes getting even wider at the thought. You smirked a little and then stood up, moving to stand beside the blown away eight year old and looked at Thor with a small smile. “Yeah, it is. Um…this is my son, Theo. Theo, Thor.” you said, giving a slight chuckle at how the two names sounded together like that. Your son moved a few steps forward and tilted his head back to look up at him as he stood in the doorway. Thor stared down at him and then stepped in slightly so that he could bend down and pick up the toy that your son had dropped and he lifted it up a bit, inspecting it. It was, ironically, a Thor action figure. He stared at it silently for a moment and then held it up next to him and pointed at it. “This looks nothing like me.” Which was true. It totally did not.

@shit-i-say-shit-i-think @anemonelovesfiction

Note from the Author: I hope everyone likes it, even if no one does, I still am going to continue it. So there. Eat that. :)

Gif credit: goes to the lovely owner.

[shuadotcom]

Crush on You | HJS

❄ Summary: Joshua hates the idea of you being all alone for winter break so he wants to surprise you.

❄ Pairing: Joshua x GN!Reader

❄ Genres & AUs: Fluff, friends to lovers au, college au

❄ Rating: PG

❄ Warnings: None just Joshua being the sweetest

❄ Words: 3.3k

❄ Note: First fic of 2023! Big thank you to @toikiii​ for reading this over for me! This is an old fic of mine that I’ve been meaning to get around to rewriting when I was feeling especially soft. My brain simply would not rest and I literally couldn’t work on any other wip until I got some of these Joshua feelings out. The swiftness at which he shot up my bias list since last year is unfair because I didn’t ask to be this down bad for him, yet here I am.

I told myself I’d start working on my Seventeen wips in the new year and here we are - soft hours for Joshua are open forever!

Being broke during winter break sucks. Being broke during winter break and alone sucks even more. Being broke during winter break and being alone and being in a whole different country sucks the most.

You plan on buying your plane ticket to go home for the break early on. You tell yourself over and over again that you’re going to get it months ahead of time. Of course what you plan and what actually happens are two different things.

September is when you’re going to get the round-trip ticket. If you get it out of the way three months in advance, you won’t have to worry about doing anything last minute or having to pay more as the day grows closer. You have the money in your account and as soon as you finish your homework for the week, you’ll sit down, get the ticket, and plan the trip.

Unfortunately, you make the fatal mistake of allowing all of your friends to squeeze into your dorm room to celebrate the coming weekend. Thanks to the half-full bottle of soju that spilled all over your laptop, you learn two things that day; one is to never let a group of college boys drink excessive amounts of alcohol in your dorm room. The second thing is to never let a drunk Kwon Soonyoung anywhere near your expensive things ever again. Ever.

October rolls around and after buying a new computer and making sure Soonyoung knows that he’s indebted to you for basically the rest of his life, you’re back to saving up again. That’s short-lived though when you leave your backpack, which just so happens to have most of your textbooks in it, on the train.

This time you mostly blame Seungkwan. There’s a new restaurant opening in Gangnam that he really wants to try and everyone else is either busy or doesn’t want to go. He has to bribe you with a free meal, but you ultimately agree.

The problem is, he gets so caught up in trying things and gushing over the food that you miss your train back to campus, meaning you’ll likely be late for curfew. He pays the bill and the two of you sprint to the train to catch the next one. Once you reach your stop, you have to push through the abnormally crowded train passengers to get out, and in the process, your backpack is forgotten on the seat you and Seungkwan shared and you don’t realize that your bag isn’t slung over either of your shoulders until the train is long gone. While, yes you blame the incident on your forgetfulness, Seungkwan had told you that he'd carry your backpack and then didn’t so it’s still partially his fault.

November is your fault, which you can admit. Dragging along as many of your thirteen closest friends as will go with you to a SHINee pop-up shop in Busan means more planning and money than you account for. At the time all you have on your mind is getting your hands on as many limited edition fan items as possible, but once you’re faced with the double-digit number in your bank account, irresponsibility and guilt settle heavily on your shoulders.

December brings on tests and projects almost nonstop which barely leaves enough time for you to sleep and eat, so your mind is on school and school alone. You’ve seen the holiday decorations and heard plenty of people talking about the upcoming break, but your homework takes precedence over anything else.

After months of excuse after excuse, and you simply forgetting, here you are now; alone while all of your friends have already gone home for break, most of them only having to hop on a train to get there. Barely anyone is on campus at all and the few students that did stay back are unfamiliar to you so you choose the solitude of your own room for the next week.

Your family doesn’t have the funds to get you a ticket, so your financial irresponsibility is your problem and yours alone. Of course, your friends offer to pay for your ticket home, which when you decline, their next suggestion is to let you go home with one of them, but you turn them all down on that offer too. You want them to enjoy their time with their families and not have to worry about their foreign friend tagging awkwardly along.

You regret your decision just a little bit as you trek through the freshly fallen snow to the bus stop. The fact that the school's cafeteria would be closed with most of the staff gone, hadn't occurred to you either, which is why you found yourself in the small tteokbokki place about fifteen minutes away from school on New Year’s eve.

You’re in the middle of grumpily stuffing your face full of rice cakes when your phone rings on the table. After glancing at the contact name and photo, you quickly swallow the food in your mouth before swiping your finger across the screen to answer the phone.

“Yeah?”

“Is that any way to greet your lovely friend?” A chuckle comes through the line making you scoff while simultaneously trying to ignore your rapid heartbeat.

“You're Joshua, you don't count.”

“Are you saying if I was Jihoon or Jeonghan you would've answered nicer?!” He gasps in faux offense.

“I don't know, maybe. Neither of them has hit me in the face with a door you know,” you taunt, trying not to laugh. You’ll never let him live down the fact that your first time meeting was due to him accidentally smacking you in the face with the door to your shared math class.

“How long are you gonna keep bringing that up?! I said I was sorry!” Joshua lets out a deep sigh and you can practically hear him sulking over the phone. “Anyway, where are you?”

“Tteokbokki,” you simply answer, not needing to explain where since he’ll know “Why?”

“Go back to your room.”

“What?”

“I sent you something and you have to hurry back, like, now.”

“Bu-”

“I'm serious you have to go now. I’ll time you and if you aren't there in less than twenty minutes, I'm sending it back.”

“You can’t just unsend a mailed gift!”

The sound of the dial tone is his reply.

You usually aren’t one to listen to people demanding you to do things. You can admit to being pretty stubborn and petty at times and you can proudly say no if you didn't want to do something.

Well, unless the one telling you what to do was Joshua Hong.

You did a flawless job (in your opinion) of hiding the fact that you’ve, more or less, fallen for one of your best friends. All of your male friends were handsome and fun to be around, but there is something about Joshua that you can’t put your finger on, but it makes you feel so many things for him. His sweet smiles always make your heart practically beat out of your chest. His laughter makes you weak in the knees; the sound is like your favorite song. Anytime you sit close to him, you find yourself daydreaming of being more than friends, the urge to hold his hand always at the forefront of your mind.

Obviously, you haven’t told a single soul about this and you plan to keep it that way. The last thing you need is to disrupt the dynamic of your newfound family with a silly little crush, but you still can’t help the giddy feeling you get around him or the way that you tend to do nearly anything he asks of you.

Today is no expectation as you promptly stand up, throw away your trash, and beeline out of the restaurant and to the bus stop to go back to campus.

With your boots caked in snow, palms sweaty, and breathing labored from fast-walking to get here, you’re back at your building and rushing into your room. Upon stepping inside, you instantly note that it looks different than the way you left it.

Your walls, which are usually covered in posters, now have sparkly, silver stars hanging haphazardly around the room. There’s a string of blinking fairy lights hung up on the ceiling, a few feet above your head and there’s a candle burning that smells strongly of sugar cookies. Sitting on your desk is a small artificial Christmas tree complete with rainbow-blinking lights and a little gold star on the top. Your eyes only scan these things briefly before they land on the man sitting cross-legged in the middle of your bed. His phone is next to him, playing a soft R&B song that you can’t name, but it sounds nice. He’s wearing a red and white sweater and a glittery ‘Happy New Year’ headband. Joshua’s wide, bright smile completes the ensemble.

“Surprise!” Joshua bounces off your bed and throws his arms in the air.

You’re still standing in the doorway, unsure of what to even say. A jumble of things runs through your mind, but the only thing you manage to get out is, “How'd you even get those lights on the ceiling? You’re not that tall.”

Joshua throws his head back and laughs in response. “I show up here when I'm supposed to be at home and turn your room into what looks like the holidays threw up in it, and that's what you say to me?”

As if a switch is flipped, you snap out of your daze and kick your soggy shoes off, tossing your coat on the back of your desk chair and plopping down on the edge of your bed.

“Okay then, why are you not in California and how did you do this?” You try your best not to sound as giddy as you feel and ignore the somersaults your stomach is doing under your sweater.

“Well, as you know I did go home.”

“Yes, we all facetimed for Christmas I’m aware.”

“Don’t interrupt!” He playfully scolds, and it makes your face heat up. “As I was saying, I went home, but I was still thinking about you here alone and I just couldn’t stop imagining you sitting here with no one to celebrate any of the holidays with and I hated it. So, I bought a plane ticket and got back here this morning to surprise you. I actually didn’t know if you’d be in your room or not, but when I came by you were already gone so I let myself in and decided this was a better surprise than showing up with the decorations in my arms and making you put them up with me. Worked pretty well I'd say.” Joshua pats himself on the back and admires his work with a pleased grin.

“Okay… but why?”

“Why what?” Joshua sits on the bed next to you, your body going rigid. You try to create some distance between the two of you, the usual butterflies in your stomach going insane.

“Why did you go through the trouble of setting all of this up and leaving your family? During the holidays of all time.”

Joshua's face is suddenly serious as he turns towards you. “Because I know you. I know when you're unhappy, even when you try and hide it. You've been unhappy all month and I could tell. When you’re sad about something you get weirdly quiet all the time, whether you notice or not. You also get more agitated than usual and you stare off into space a lot.” He scoots closer to you ever so carefully. “We've known each other for two years so I've had plenty of time to pick up little things about you. I probably know more about you than you think.” Joshua shrugs and glances away from you. His tone has been casual, but you don’t miss the blush that spreads over his face.

“So… you ditched your family early to come back to school during break and spent your time and money on decorations for my room because you wanted me to not be unhappy?”

“Well, I mean you're my friend, obviously.” His face is still turned away from you, but the strain in his voice is noticeable. Seeing Joshua act so flustered gives you a boost of unexpected confidence, so you decide to see how far you can push this conversation. Admitting that you have a crush on him terrifies you to no end, but maybe you can gauge his feelings.

“But I'm also friends with Mingyu and Chan and they didn't go out of their way to do this for me.”

“Yeah, but they're not clever enough to think of doing this. And they're also nowhere near as nice as I am.”

“What about Wonwoo? He's pretty smart. And Seungcheol is actually the sweetest man I've ever met. If anyone would've planned all of this, it would've been him,” you say matter-of-factly.

Joshua finally turns to look at you then, clearly offended.

“What do you mean?! I’m very sweet! How about that time I brought you all of your homework and let you copy my lecture notes that whole week you were sick! And the time last year that I surprised you with EXID tickets for your birthday! And let us not forget all the food I’ve made and bought you when you have cravings! I’m so nice I don't know how you stand it! Seungcheol sucks." He puffs out his cheeks and crosses his arms, a pout forming on his perfect lips.

You have to turn your head and change the giggle you nearly let out into a cough.

“Well yeah, but Seungcheol always compliments me. He also makes sure that when he gets coffee for himself before our Tuesday morning class, that he brings me a caramel latte since he knows it’s my favorite. You've never brought me anything before our class.”

Joshua’s brown eyes stare into yours as you talk, his jaw clenching in annoyance, but you keep talking. “Oh! And he always holds doors open for me. Let's not forget what happened the last time you and a door were anywhere near me.”

“Not this again -” He groans out through gritted teeth.

“And, Seungcheol also makes sure any restaurants we go have plenty of nut-free options for my allergy and -” Joshua grabs your waist, tugging you forward and sending you falling against his chest. When you look up at him and your eyes meet, he hesitates for only a second before bringing his lips to meet yours.

He moves his hands up to cup your face and turns his head, aligning your lips at a better angle. Your fingers grip the front of his sweater, hands bunching up the fabric.

Kissing Joshua Hong is only something that you dream about and keep to yourself, but this moment, right now with him, is better than any scenario your brain has conjured up on its own.

The two of you lose track of time, nothing mattering except how soft Joshua’s lips are and how good he smells, and how warm his hands on you are.

It isn’t until you need to breathe do both of you pull back slowly, neither of you really wanting to do so. Once your eyes flutter open, they widen, the realization of what just happened hitting you. Joshua on the other hand looks much more relaxed - relieved even.

“I can’t believe you kissed me,” you breathe out, almost in a whisper, afraid that if you’re too loud you’ll wake up from what you’re still convinced may be a dream.

“I can’t believe you kissed me back.” The two of you share a quiet laugh.

“Is that why you came back to do all of this for me?”

Joshua gives you a look that very much feels like a non-verbal ‘duh!’ “I thought it was obvious honestly. I’ve wanted to kiss you since I first met you.”

“With my bloody nose and all, huh?”

His pretty face twists in agony at your teasing. “You’re going to make me apologize for the rest of my life about the door huh?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Our kids are going to ask how we met and you’re going to tell them that their father nearly knocked you out and had to rush you to the campus infirmary and how for the rest of the day I stalked you around school to make sure you didn’t randomly pass out because I gave you brain damage.”

You chuckle at his dramatics, telling your heart to stop trying to leap out of your chest at the idea of kids and a future with Joshua. You’ve been more than friends for less than an hour at least - you have got to calm down.

“Oh, before I forget, no more talking about Seungcheol like that anymore, okay? And I'm going to tell him not to bring you lattes in the morning because I'm going to do it.”

“But your classes on Tuesdays don’t start until eleven.”

“Guess I'll just have to get up early and meet you then. I’m going to be nicer than Seungcheol can ever hope to be. You’re mine now so no one can be nicer to you than me.”

“Whatever you say, Shua.” You roll your eyes at him, fighting back a giddy smile.

“Good. Now that that's settled, let’s pack a bag for you.” Joshua hops off of the bed and drags your suitcase out from under your bed.

“What? Why?”

“You wouldn’t let me buy you a plane ticket back home, so you're coming home with me,” he says as he bounds over to your closet. Just as you open your mouth to object, he puts a hand up. “You're not going to spend the rest of the break here alone. I got a round-trip ticket for myself and one for you too. The flight leaves tomorrow morning, so we should get your stuff ready now.”

Crossing your arms, you watch him casually look through your clothes. “And what if I didn’t like you back? You didn’t even know that I felt the same way about you.”

He only shrugs. “Honestly? I didn’t plan that far ahead. I just wanted to get to you so you weren’t lonely anymore and I’d figure it out from there.” He emerges with an armful of your sweaters, beginning to neatly fold them and set them in your open suitcase. “But now I don’t have to vanish off the face of the planet due to embarrassment and a broken heart which is good because I told my parents I was bringing you back. My mom is super excited to meet you.”

The thought of going home with your friends was awkward to you which is why you turned everyone down. The thought of going home with your used-to-be-friend-who-is-now-your-boyfriend makes you just as nervous, if not more, but even so, you don’t object as you join Joshua in packing your things and set your bag by your door for the morning.

The two of you spend the rest of the night cuddling, something you never want to stop doing with him as long as you live. When the countdown to midnight starts, you watch on your laptop as a new station counts down and as soon as midnight hits, Joshua’s pulling you into another kiss, this one just as magical as the first.

Your lips are still tingling when he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours.

“Happy New Year, Y/n.”

“Happy New Year, Shua.”

Sleep comes next for both of you, Joshua mentioning that the flight is pretty early and that you need your rest before dealing with the chaos of the airport. He rambles a little as you fall asleep, going on about wanting to take you to all his favorite places back home. Just hearing the excitement in his voice helps you decide that maybe visiting his family wouldn't be so bad. Especially if he keeps kissing you the way he does and looking at you with those soft, sparkling eyes. Hell, if he asked you to fly to the moon with him right now, you’ll likely say yes without a second thought and not regret a single thing. Not as long as you’re with him.

[corujalesbica]

Why would you wear black to a wedding

A wenclair story!

Chapter 2 ➡️

Enid was absolutely and utterly fucked. Screwed. Really, at her worse moment. She looked out the window, her eyes glaring the falling rain. If she managed to pack her things fast enough, she thought, maybe she could run away when the rain ceased. Live in the mountains, away from everyone and everything. With only mother nature and sadness as her company. Forever forced to hide and...

"Tá la la lã" Her buzzing phone got her out of her family issues induced anxiety spiral. It was on her bed, the screen shinning in bright blue in the dark room.

Yoko, my beautiful bestie

Yo you guys wanna come over and watch a movie or smt

Gaslight gatekeep girlboss

Depends. I refuse to watch any more of enids sad ass homo rom coms

Upon reading that, Enid threw herself in her old bed, reaching for her phone.

You

Hey!!! My rom coms aren't sad!

Gaslight gatekeep girlboss

Yes they are. If I have to watch 1 more scene with kissing people in the rain Ill throw myself off a cliff.

Yoko, my beautiful bestie

It's fine babes, we can watch a horror movie.

How could Yoko betray her like that ? Where was the friends before partners unspoken rule ?

You

I AM NOT watching a freaking horror movie. I'll have nightmares for weeks!!!

Yoko, my beautiful bestie

We can watch the Fear street trilogy. It has gays in it and shit.

You

You're just taking Biancas side because she's ur gf that is soooooo unfair

Yoko , my beautiful bestie

No, I'm taking her side cause u made us watch crush with you 7 times and I liked it at first but now my experience is ruined because I know all the freaking lines

You

........

Gaslight gatekeep girlboss

Enid ?

You

OKAY THEN we'll watch fear street or whatvs

Enid sighted, letting go off her phone. It was nice to be back home, thought third wheeling wasn't exactly her favorite thing to do. She looked around, and some of her old plushies looked back. Being in San Francisco felt... Different, this time. Maybe it was because of her brothers wedding this summer. And just maybe, it was because she herself was a bit different.

One way or the other, she was happy to get a break from college, to be back from Colorado. Her room there was boring as fuck, with its gray walls and metal desk. This, was much better. Someone knocked on the door, and Enid suddenly remembered why her gray room in Colorado felt as freeing as it was ugly. Her mom stepped in without waiting for permission.

" Enid. Dear"

" Yes, mom ?" The girl reluctantly looked her mother's way, shifting position so they were facing each other.

" When will we met your lovely - totally real - partner ? It must be before your brothers and Daysis wedding. You know, dearest, a werewolf needs a partner! Someone to take care of you in full moon nights, and someone to protect when you're- "

" -when I'm old and alone and hated by humans. I know mom. I told you already, youll met her soon enought! She can't get here before Dave's wedding, she has finals... "

"Well, she must find a way! I will not settle for meeting such a person only at the wedding! And if you're lying to me Enid, you will regret it" she step closer, her browns furrowed, her mouth downward in an expression Enid knew all too well. She shrieked on instintic. "You have three days to bring her here or else you're dumping her and going to the ceremony with Samantha Diologious daughter, Celine. And that's final."

The older woman left then, and Enid held her breath until she couldn't hear her mother's steps anymore.

You see, Enid needed a partner for her brothers Dave, wedding, and her love life wasn't exactly going well. Her last girlfriend dumped her after cheating, and broke her delicate heart in a million pieces. Since then she had gone on multiple dates with her mothers warnings in mind, but none of them wanted to go to a strangers wedding nor did they want to see her again after she asked.

She had even got as desperate as to ask Yoko to pretend a break up with Bianca and be her fake date but her girlfriend wasn't the fondest of that idea. With a sight Enid asked herself how the actual fuck she would get a date willing to go with her to the ceremony in three days. Because there was no way she was going with Celine Diologious. Celine was a self centered, cruel person who would always kiss Enid against her will when her mother forced her to go on dates with the girl. Enid protests and complains about harassment were useless, which of course had nothing to deal with the fact that the Diologious were rich, and prestigious among the werewolf community.

Maybe some miracle would happen and Enid would end up with a beautiful, nice girl in her arms just in time to not have to expose her lies to her mother, who had almost made her phone stop working with all the messages she sent before Enid invented this fake girl. Maybe everything would work out.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

It was late at night, Bianca and Yoko asleep beside her, while Enid scrolled mindlessly through her Instagram. The movie wasn't as bad as she thought was gonna be, though she was sure that had more to do with the fact that she gat gotten used to the blood and the gore being a werewolf than with it not being scary.

She yawned, Yoko had a spare mattress in her room for nights like this, and at some point, she would have to wake up the cuddling girls beside her. The girl decided to get some water so she could take her medicine and be ready to sleep before waking her friends up. Yokos house was huge, but she was used to it. Her parents were probably out, always bloodthirsty vampires in the night. She respected that, thought it was easier dealing with Yoko, who got along with humans better for being a vegetarian.

There were piles and piles of books scattered around the house, when he wasn't sucking blood, her friends dad was a book worm. Even in the kitchen, books and notebooks full of Yokos moms notes filled the shelves you would usually see food in. As she filled a glass of water, Enid saw something shine in silver in the corner of her eye.

She kneeled beside it, a book with a black and silver cover thrown carelessly on the floor. She opened it, curiosity getting the best of her, and was met with words that started whispering to her, floating around her head and calling her name. The phrases told stories old and magical, and Enid lost track of time as she flipped through the pages. Countless spells were explained throughly, and she stopped as she found one that got her attention.

For the old and new, the sweet and bitter

To do the ritual, you have to be witter

Call the curse holder in desperate help

And in your aid, the witch will come

Enid had a terrible idea.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

You see, Yokos parents weren't really gonna miss the book. They had thousands of them, including dozens and dozens of witchcraft books, just like this one. She would return it in a few days anyways, but her brothers wadding was a day and a half away, and she was far beyond desperate.

The circle she drew in her rooms floor was adorned by lit candles and black roses. In the center, all kinds of offerings Enid could think of rested in a bowl, from candy bars to dead mouses (ew), because she had no idea what the witch would like, and the book wasn't all that specific on the ritual.

Finally, she sat on the floor and closed her eyes. Usually, Enid had a hard time remembering the information she read, but for some reason, the words for the spell were stuck in her head, repeating over and over again. She said the verses out loud three times as the clock struck midnight, too late for anyone in the house to hear her. The canddles went out, leaving her in complete darkness. For a whole minute, Enid breathed hard in slight disappointment but sweet relief, thinking the ritual didn't work. But as opened her eyes a dark figure stood in front of her.

The person wore all black and irradiated a cruel energy. Two dark eyes stared at her from the very center of her circle, looking like they were able to see into her very soul. She got up, her legs shaking, turned her phones flashlight up and before her...

Before her stood a petite girl with black hair. She had a braid resting in each of her shoulders and a notebook in her hands. Her face was delicate, beautiful sharp angles, and an expression that berayed no emotion. Enid calmed down then, not quite knowing where to start her request for the witch.

" Hum... I... I mean-"

"You have summoned me." The girls before her said. " I will therefore fulfill your wishes of revenge and blood"

"I don't want-"

"However," the girl interrupted her. "You must give me something in exchange for my services. What are you willing to give up on for this, Ms ?

"Sinclair. Enid Sinclair."

"Wednesday Addams"

They looked at each other, both a bit astonished.

"I gathered some stuff for you," Enid gestured awkwardly to her offerings. The girl looked her dead in the eyes and, without so much as blinking, caught a chocolate bar with gum flavored filling between the tip of her fingers. With the most disgust Enid had ever seen anyone show for anything, Wednesday put the candy bar in front of her face. " This ?"

"Yeah ?" The werewolf paused, not knowing what to do. "There's also some dead mouses if you'd like". The Addams girl sighed in exasperation, and rolled her eyes.

"I have been holding the family's curse for three years now, since turning eighteen. And not once in those 1095 days has such a moron summoned me. What do you want, disgustingly pink girl ?"

Enid wanted to be offended, she really did. She was whoever, wearing her most neon pajamas in that moment, pink panthers silly face painted with glitter in her shirt. Also, she was really, really desperate and not at all, wanting to have to deal with her mom.

"Look" she says, sitting down, too tired to care what the witch would think of her "I need a date for my brother's wedding. It is crucial I bring someone, and I was kinda hoping whoever I summoned could help me find a person my age to go with me. But, oh well, to my very surprise you are the one I summoned and also a person my age so maybe you could go with me? Do you want some of my blood in exchange for it ? Or maybe teeth ? I've heard if you mix dust made from a werewolf's teeth with fairy hair you can grow plants faster or something…" She shut up then, a finger on her tin and the knowledge she had been talking for way too long doing lops inside her head. Her eyelids were heavy, she just wanted to go to sleep.

"You want… A date ?" The Wednesday girl looked more than disgusted now, almost like she would prefer to wear Enid's pink panther pj's. She furrowed her brows, in an expression Enid thought she wouldn't be able to decipher even if she was fairly awake.

"Okay." The witch said. "I'll be your date to the wedding. This relationship is purely professional, however. And I have several ground rules. And I'll need you to-"

Before she could finish it, Enid had gotten up, wide eyed. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" She smiled, a weight she hadn't know she'd been caring suddenly lifted from her shoulders. "Oh my God, can I hug you ? Would that be OK? It's alright if it's not, but really, thank you!"

"You may not hug me" The girl took a step back "And I'll only attend the wedding on the condition you come with me to the Addams family reunion in two months. I need a partner for the blood ritual."

"Of course! Is that your only condition ?"

Wednesday took a second to think to herself. "Yes" she said carefully. "Do we have a deal ?" She extended her hand, and Enid shook it, delicate but strong fingers with black nails meeting her rough ones. " Yes we, do , Ms Addams" she said cheerfully.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

This was supposed to be a one shot...

I'll link chapter 2 when it's up

[streamafterlaughter]

Fundamental Differing

Chapter II: Like A Lover, Not A Dancer

masterlist | playlist | chapter I

summary: Your album release show goes off without a hitch. For you, at least.

tags/warnings: rockstar!reader x rockstar!gn!afab!reader, mention of reader having boobs (feel free to skip that), slow burn, pining, angst, steve is impartial and the bestest best friend forever. mentions of blood/bruises/injury (non specific)

a/n: please don’t hate me i swore i’d make this one a Real slow burn but idk how imma do that without taunting us all. Please reblog to support the author!

Disclaimer: I do not give permission to have my work reposted on other sites. Reblogs are more than welcome, but please inform me if you find my work elsewhere unless otherwise stated.

Eddie’s POV

Pacing the length of his living room, Eddie talks aloud, mostly to himself, while his band mates sit along the couch, unsure how to help him out of his spiral.

“How am I supposed to mentally prepare for this? This is the biggest tour of our lives, and it’s with the one person capable of throwing me off my game. The one person that knows all of my weaknesses, everything that makes me tick. How am I supposed to be the person everyone thinks I am? They’re gonna see right through that shit.” He pivots to face his friends, and none of them can make eye contact. “Suggestions would be super appreciated right now!”

Gareth speaks then, timidly, “Ed, man, they probably feel the same way. You know all there is to know about Y/n. You’re both gonna go to extreme lengths to avoid each other just to realize neither of you have anything to worry about.”

“Yeah, my bet is you’ll be talkin’ like old friends within the first week.” Jeff chimes in. The two chuckle, until they see the expression on Eddie’s face. His lips are pressed together in a thin line, his eye twitching slightly as he attempts to keep his composure. “It’s true!” Jeff throws his hands above his head in surrender.

“Don’t get my hopes up like that, man. They broke up with me, ‘member? ‘Course ya do, I slept on your couch for a month when it happened.” His words wipe the smile from his friends’ faces. “I can’t walk around hoping and praying they’ll want anything to do with me. That can’t be who I am.” Eddie flops into the recliner across from them, defeated.

-

Your POV

You land in LA at 2:00PM, and are immediately rushed into a rental car, courtesy of Elektra Records. You’d been to California only once before, when you and Eddie had hit a restless phase and took a road trip to visit Will and El.

Now, though, instead of a big, dirty van, you’re in a sleek town car, on your way to The fucking Roxy to attend your band’s album release party. It feels like every sacrifice you’d made in the last two years finally makes sense! The planets have aligned, and you’re on the right path, or whatever the fuck. So why does your heart still hurt?

Robin grabs your hand, yanking you from your inner monologue. “We’re in LA, baby!” She’s hand in hand with Lilith, and Sylvie’s tucked into your left side. Steve pivots from the front seat to address you. “The party starts at ten tonight, be ready by seven. Call my room if you guys need anything, I’ll call when you have an hour left.”

You have to commend him, he’s got the mom thing down. “Yessir.” You all nod in unison, stifling the very laughter that kids would bite back after a mother’s lecture. But you appreciate him, there’s a reason you wanted him taking care of you. “Your performance is scheduled for ten thirty, we probably have fifteen, twenty minutes of leeway there though.”

Your smile is practically smacked from your face. “Our what?”

Steve looks up from his itinerary, matching your expression. “Did- did no one tell you?”

“I figured you told them!” Sylvie accuses, and Robin nods. You can perform on a whim, far over your stage fright after the hell you’d gone through. Performing has become cathartic, and you love a big audience. But Eddie was going to be in that crowd, and for some reason that scared the shit out of you.

“You’ll be fine! It’s not a full set, just three from the new album, bing bang boom you’re cutting a cake with your face on it.” He slaps his hands together to emphasize his point. As if on cue, the car pulls up to the hotel you’ll be staying at, and the doorman approaches to help with your bags.

-

You and Robin are sharing a room, spending the afternoon letting all your stress out as you prepare for the night.

“I just don’t get it!” You say for what feels like the hundredth time that day. “Why wouldn’t they tell us sooner?”

“My only theory,” Robin begins before blowing on her freshly painted nails, “Is that they know your history, and knew you’d try to back out if they told you. But how would they?”

They wouldn’t, you think, not to your knowledge. You never mention Hawkins, but you know Eddie does. Has he brought you up? You shake your head, shooing the thought away. “Whatever, nothing we can do now!” You pick a few clothing articles out of your suitcase, turning to Robin. “Which one?”

She smirks. “You know Eddie’s gonna be there, right?”

You shrug. “So?”

“So!” She catapults herself off the bed, taking the tight black dress between her fingers. “These will drive him fucking nuts! And I know you know that.”

You feign ignorance. Of course you’d thought about that, but why should it matter? “We’re broken up, Robin. This isn’t about him. Now which one am I gonna ruin tonight?” You hold each one up to you in the full length mirror. “The red one seems like a little too much,” You mumble, “But the black one is super nice on the melons.” You gesture to your chest, snickering.

It pulls a giggle out of Robin. “Definitely the black one, then.” She nods feverishly, and you mimic her movements, a grin stretching your mouth open.

-

Eddie’s POV

The joint burns in his fingers, dangerously close to singeing his hair before he snuffs it out in the ashtray. The California breeze is warm, inviting, but Eddie’s mood can’t be lifted even by the nice weather. He reluctantly returns from the patio, slamming the screen door behind him, causing Gareth to wince. “You alright, man?”

Eddie glares at his friend, who huffs a response. “You gotta get over it, Ed. Be professional, all that shit.” Gareth shrugs his jacket over a red and black flannel. “It’s not a big deal. You’re coworkers.”

“I guess,” Eddie sighs, pulling his boots on, tying the laces tightly. He swipes his hotel key from the bedside table, and follows Gareth to the elevator.

When he reaches the lobby, he stops dead in his tracks. Ten feet in front of him, behind his band mates, you stand with your own. You’re wearing a black dress with a denim jacket layered over it, and heavy black boots. Your hair falls to your shoulders, the color bright and impossible to miss. It takes all of his strength not to turn and run, but somehow he manages to stay put.

Jeff approaches him slowly, slapping a hand on his shoulder. “You’re good, man.” His voice is tired, and it’s only the first night of a very long three months ahead. Eddie nods, ripping his eyes from the back of your head. You don’t turn around, but the tensing of your shoulders tells him you know he’s behind you. He follows behind his bandmates, stalking out of the hotel room and into the car behind the one you enter.

-

Your POV

You can feel his eyes on you even after you get in the car. Sylvie puts a comforting hand on your shoulder as Robin grasps your free hand. You’re so grateful for your support system, you just wish you didn’t need it so much.

You zone out for the drive, trying your best not to think about the events lined up for tonight. More so, you’re trying not to think about how you’ll avoid Eddie all night. At your own party. That he’s attending.

Your legs start to bounce as the driver pulls around the back of The Roxy. The stage manager greets you at the door as Corroded Coffin pulls up behind you. You don’t dare glance over your shoulder, ignoring every urge to look at Eddie, and immediately let your guard down.

Instead, you part ways to your separate green rooms. Even though CC isn’t performing tonight, you assume they need the space to get away from rabid fans. It makes you slightly bitter, watching them get special treatment on a night that’s supposed to belong to you.

Lilith throws herself onto the couch in the corner. “So, I took the liberty of inspecting Eddie’s demeanor so you didn’t have to.” She taunts, crossing one stockinged leg over the other.

You pivot to face your drummer, a look of what you hope is confusion written on your face. “What?” She asks innocently. “You know I’m nosey! Anyway, he was doing everything in his power not to look at you. He caught me once.”

You chuckle. “Maybe he’ll think you’re into him and move on.” You turn back to the mirror, reapplying your blood red lipstick.

“Oh, shut up!” Lilith chucks a bottle cap at you, but it lands short. “I know you’re still into him.”

“I am not!” You really aren’t sure. You haven’t spoken in two years, mostly to make sure you didn’t give back in to him. You didn’t trust your own willpower.

“Five minutes, ladies!” A stagehand peeks her head through the doorway. You and Sylvie exchange an eye roll at her assumption. It doesn’t shake you, or even offend you, being called a lady, or a woman. You know it’s not meant as an insult, but if people would just listen to your music, it’s not that hard to understand.

The DJ set ends, and he plays Sonic Youth’s Kool Thing as your walk out music, and you relish in the way the lyrics resonate: Kool Thing sittin' with a kitty / Now you know you're sure lookin' pretty / Like a lover not a dancer / Superboy take a little chance here / I don't want to, I don't think so / I don't want to, I don't think so. You peek around the corner from backstage, into a crowd of teens and young adults, some wearing your shirts, most of them already sweating.

When the song ends, the house lights dim, and the crowd gets impossibly louder. Robin throws her bass over her head, and gives your shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Ready to knock ‘em dead?”

You smile at her, and extend it to the rest of your band. The four of you huddle together.

“Okay, guys. This is it. How we do tonight is an indication of how the tour is gonna go. Now, WHO ARE WE?”

“DEATH DANCE APPROXIMATELY!”

“I SAID, ‘WHO ARE WE?!’”

“DEATH DANCE APPROXIMATELY!”

You chant together, hyping yourselves up, building to an excited babble of voices overlapping. You grab your own guitar from a stagehand, and the four of you walk on to the stage to greet a screaming crowd.

-

Eddie’s POV

His eyes don’t leave you as you make your walk to your microphone. Your dress hugs every dip and curve of your body, leaving nothing to the imagination, not that Eddie has to imagine any of it. Your lips are dark, blood red, and your hair glows under the colorful lights. Your boots are thick, platform heels that lift you an extra three inches off the ground, giving the impression that you’d stomp out anyone that crosses you. Your skin is littered with tattoos, plenty more than the last time he saw you. They cover your arms and legs, heavy lines and bright colors. You look like an art piece, one Eddie could spend the rest of his life admiring.

He doesn’t recognize the song you open with, knowing it’s a new one off the album due to be released at midnight. Your voice hooks him in anyway; raspy, sounding angry, hurt, and like you’re singing right to him. Every fight you’d ever had with him, every night you’d wept in his arms, it’s all expelling from you on that stage, and he can’t help swimming in the pain it causes him.

Eddie gets it, the way a show can calm him in an instant, he can get every piece of aggression out of him without hurting anyone else. Watching you perform for the first time since breaking up is hypnotic, making his heart skip around erratically. He turns to the bartender. “Make it a double,” he calls over the music.

“What the fuck is up, LA?!” You scream when you finish your first song, and the crowd responds with shrieks. “We are Death Dance Approximately, and it’s lovely to meet you. Welcome to our album release show!” They scream again. “Please feel free to stick around until we unveil it. This is our first single, it came out last month. It’s called Pretty Boy.”

Eddie’s eyes widen. He never expected you to play the song again, let alone make it a single, but Pretty Boy had become such a staple song for both avid fans and casual listeners. Usually he can’t listen to it, but right now Eddie can’t bring himself to look away from you as you sing the song you wrote for him.

I hadn’t slept in several days, / I hadn’t been warm in weeks, / But after you had met my gaze, / I let my body breathe. / It felt less like a heart attack, / and more like coming home. / I let your body keep me warm, / so I don’t have to sleep alone. / Pretty boy, my heart is yours, / and I hope you’ll say the same, / Cause after all these lonely nights, / I just want to hear you say my name.

It’s crazy to hear the crowd sing with you, adding ambiance to your already angelic voice. Eddie feels his breath catch in his throat, and gulps his whiskey down to suffocate it. As you move into the third song, and Eddie’s about to call it a night, he’s approached by a group of what looks to be twenty somethings, girls about Dustin’s age now.

“Holy shit,” the short girl with spiky, purple hair squeaks, shouting over the music. “You’re Eddie Munson!” She covers her mouth, as if she’s spoken something forbidden.

Eddie scratches the back of his head and laughs. “Yeah, that’s me.” It’s a welcome distraction from the self torture of watching you.

“Would you sign my tits?!” a taller girl speaks, her blonde hair falling over her shoulders and her barely covered chest.

Eddie raises an eyebrow. It’s not the first time he’s been asked, but it never ceases to weird him out a little. “Uh, sure, got a marker?”

She hands Eddie a sharpie, and he signs her skin, leaning as far away from her as he can while doing so. They shout their thanks, and walk away squealing to each other. When he pivots back to the stage, you’re on your knees, singing right into the faces of the front row. What he’d do to have you that close to him again.

-

Your POV

You finish your third and final song of the night, leaving every ounce of your soul on the floor of The Roxy. When you’ve finished, you’re sweaty, smelly, and covered in glitter. Your makeup is smudged and running down your face, and your hair is tangled and sticking out every which way, but you’ve never felt better.

In the green room, Sylvie pops a bottle of celebratory champagne. “To our first sold out show!” You hold your glass up, and everyone clinks theirs together.

“Fucking awesome, you guys.” Steve praises, sipping his own bubbly. “I’m so proud of you guys.”

“Aw, you big sap.” Robin wraps an arm around his waist. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

You join the hug, and your bandmates follow. “Thank you, Steve.” You say, quietly enough that only he hears you.

“Any fuckin’ time.” He breaks the hug with some minor objections. “Feel free to relax before making an appearance.” He checks his watch. “Just be ready before midnight, you gotta be in there for the cover reveal.”

You feel your heart speed up. The cover. Shit.

-

December 1985

“Whoa, dude, lemme see!” Jonathan and Eddie are examining his wounded hand. Jonathan brings his camera to his face, pointing the lense at Eddie’s clenched fist. “I’ll definitely be sure to get you this pic, might make a sick album cover.”

-

Eddie never did, in fact, get a copy of that picture. You did, though, and you’d made it the album cover of your debut: Tighten Up. And now you had to unveil that album in front of the man whose hand is plastered on it. Fuck.

-

The Roxy is thumping with loud music, now playing Mind Riot from the overhead speakers as fans mingle with each other, drinks in hand. You walk to the long table set up in front of the stage, where plenty of DDA fans grip their tour posters, waiting for you to sign. You’re still not used to the sheer amount of people in front of you, all there because of your music, your words.

“Okay, everyone!” Steve grabs the mic and makes his “I’m In Charge” announcements. “The band will be doing some signings, and copies of the albums are available to purchase. Please, don’t take too much time, I know it’s all very exciting but we have a lot of people to get to. Patience is key! Now, I know Y/n wants to address you before revealing the cover, so lemme pass the mic.” He hands you the mic, and you take a step toward your audience.

“Hey, guys!” You greet, and they respond with their loud, disorganized whoops. “Thank you so much for coming out. We hope we see you again tomorrow for our show with the CORRODED COFFIN!” The name drop gets its own applause, and you’re satisfied with the taunting. “But right now, without further adieu,” You grab the sheet that covers the canvas holding a blown up picture of the album. “TIGHTEN UP IS OUT!” You shout, and yank the cloth. There, in all its glory, is Eddie’s bloodied hand, rings and all, with the album title plastered over it in your chicken scratch. The crowd screams, and you have no time to wonder what Eddie must be thinking right now.

-

Eddie’s POV

What the fuck. He’s not sure if he’s seeing it right. His own hand, clenched in a fist, covered in some jock’s blood, on the cover of your debut album. He catches Gareth’s eyes, and makes an “I don’t know” face, that Gareth only returns with confusion. Eddie isn’t sure how to feel. Will people recognize his rings? Are their fans that crazy?

Before his brain can stop him, he’s walking further into the crowd, towards you. He doesn’t know what he’ll say, if he’ll even say anything. Instead, he watches you for awhile, talking to your fans like they’re your closest friends as you scribble on their posters and CDs, and pose for pictures. You look comfortable, at peace, and there’s no way he’d want to ruin that. He takes a gulp of his new drink, feeling the effects of the alcohol in his bloodstream.

“Hey,” It’s Steve, with a beer in his hand. “Sorry I didn’t tell you, I didn’t think it was my place. And to be fair, Y/n had no inkling you’d ever see it, especially like this.” He takes a sip, waiting for Eddie’s response.

He shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the clenching in his gut. “Nah, it’s cool. Really cool, actually. Didn’t know they still thought about me that much.”

Steve hands him a copy of the album. “See for yourself.”

Eddie grips the jewel case in his hands, and opens the album. The disc has the same picture printed on it, and the jacket unfolds to reveal the other picture taken that night, the one of his hand on your throat, covered with lyrics to songs titled Indiana, and Underneath Hell. He can make decent guesses as to what they’re about.

“Go say hi.” Steve shoves him a little, more playful than aggressive.

“Are you serious? I don’t wanna ruin their night.”

“You won’t,” He takes another swig, “I think it might make you both feel better. Cut the shit, get it over with. You’re gonna be stuck with each other all spring, might as well.”

Eddie downs the rest of his whiskey, letting the liquid burn his throat as the buzz takes over. Steve offers his hand, and Eddie gives him the glass. “Here goes nothin.’” He huffs, and disappears into the mob of fans. Many turn their heads, giving double takes when they realize who he is. He ignores the shouts to get his attention, not wanting to draw it away from you. Steve is only steps behind, guarding him from being grabbed at as he snakes to the front. Steve reaches the mic stand, and announces that the band is going to take a break, and to enjoy the refreshments. Eddie watches as you look from your manager, to your bandmates, and then to him.

-

Your POV

Eddie doesn’t look away when you meet his eyes. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his jeans, and he’s chewing on his lip nervously. You look to Steve again. “What’s happening right now?”

“Would you just go say hi? Act like you know the guy a little.” He shoulders you, causing you to stumble slightly. “C’mon, the rest of you,” Steve addresses the band, “Go take a break, sit down, have some water.” Steve looks back over his shoulder, and waves Eddie over. “You two, go catch up in the green room or something. I’m not letting you both be fucking weird this entire tour. Mingle.” He’s being serious. He ushers you backstage, and finally separates himself to join your friends, leaving you alone with the only person you probably shouldn’t be alone with.

You crack open a beer and take a large gulp. “Hi.”

“Hey.”

-

chapter III

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[dearest-lulu]

August 17th 2024: Senseless ramblings

Dearest Lulu, I had a terrible sleep last night. You were there if only for a moment to remind me of who I was before the sky fell. In my dream, I ate food I knew I was allergic to while saying "it hasn't killed me yet" Low and behold, in my dream, I was suddenly unable to breathe and needed the hospital. Nobody was able to help me and i had to drive myself, but because I would be gone for a long time I had to feed you first. We were all out of food and the only one I could find was half eaten and full of your discarded medication. Other things happened that had me wrenched from sleep all too often. I'm sure it had to do with what I'm facing.

I'm facing difficult decisions, and I'm not sure I'm 100% happy with the route I've chosen. Money is tight, not like it was when you were alive. It constricts now, leaving me bound in a heap I can't break free from. I have the Van we lived in, free of rent. Our back yard was the comfort of nature and it was so good. The memories in that thing bring me such life. but it costs so much just to keep, let alone maintain. I have also the Motorcycle. You had far less interaction with the old thing, but it still means a lot to me. Keeping both of these without a garage is challenging. The bike is getting damaged by sitting and the car sits in disrepair. Just owning them costs enough money that this month we're rationing until I get paid next week. I've been trying to sell the bike, and it hurts. I know there will be other bikes. but like you, there will be other dogs but none as special. That bike represents an action I took all on my own as proof of my independence and need for adventure. with my challenges in my relationship, feeling trapped and isolated. I think saying good bye to that bike feels like I'm giving up on myself. It feels like the wrong move, and one I'm making considering not just me but my partner as well. 2023 saw the exodus of Family, friends, you, financial stability, and independence. I'm stuck grieving all of that and I just can't let go of the last remaining shreds of that life. I don't want another life. Not if it means feeling like this forever. My mother gave up her identity when she met a man who was loyal. but as much as he would never cheat on her, he was equally horrible. Jealous, abusive, destructive, angry. You remember him, you tried to fight him often. He gave up nothing, all he did was freeload and take from her and my future I worry that I'm doing just what she did by giving up the bike. By staying with a man that I'm not sure about, simply because he says he loves me. I bleed money like I've never done before in my life. Maybe its because I'm not making enough or maybe I'm being used, I don't know. I was a blank canvas after your departure, it was arguably the worst time to get into a relationship. Then shortly after that my friends and family left too. He's all I have other than myself, and there's not much of me to speak of. I suppose on some level I'm building my life around him as I had with you. I don't know how to function any other way. I don't know how to build my life around myself, not with a partner. I can't do what I need to, let alone what I want. My freedom feels choked out. I miss you so much. You made me brave, and it was rewarded. I guess on some level I don't believe I deserve as much as you did. I need the strength to fight for the life I want to live, energy, love. Right now, it feels like it all has to come from me. because I'll be honest I've never felt so alone. This isn't a positive one I'm afraid. but that's just life

[wandersoffdoodling]

An Introduction to Alex Evergreen.

AKA, "you know what I really should put my stuff on tumblr"

This is my official introduction to my guy, my muse, my blorbo Alex Evergreen. he lives in my head rent free and has consumed my waking thoughts for the last YEAR.

long post, content under the cut.

he is:

lonely

very smart

absolutely terrible at introspection. he's an idiot.

independent. too much so for his own good, really. once flew across the Atlantic ocean when he was 12. without telling anyone. because he wanted to visit his friend who had gone home for the summer.

I love him

has a collection of highly ironic t-shirts. the t-shirts vary by au but options include "science: like magic but real" when he's a wizard.

ask me about the t-shirts.

quiet

HUGE nerd.

forgets to be quiet when he's being a nerd

he is very hard to befriend but is INTENSELY ride-or-die

appears tolerant and chill until you cross a line, and then he will end you. he once sent himself to the hospital due to blood loss as part of his plan to get back at someone.

he buried someone alive in the woods when he was 16. because he didn't want to hurt them and needed them out of the way.

Background: he is, unfortunately, rooted in HP because he's a result of me saying "what if harry was replaced with someone who behaves entirely differently, with the exact same background?". JKR sucks and is transphobic, pass it on.

among other things, he:

figured out he had powers when he was 8 or 9. however, he assumed that he was force-sensitive rather than a baby wizard.

befriended multiple garden snakes

stuck the hogwarts letter up his shirt when he got it, thus avoiding the whole letters incident

decides staying with the Dursleys for the rest of the summer would be stupid and boring and gets money for transit to London from Vernon with the promise that he'll be out of Vernon's hair until next summer.

he rents the smallest room he can find in diagon alley. not bc of price but because normal sized rooms feel too big to him.

sorts slytherin. this is not taken well by anyone. this eleven year old is met with DEAD SILENCE from the entire great hall because they either are shocked that their little baby hero got the evil house or because they've taken this as a sign that he's the next dark lord.

allows himself to be befriended by draco because he can tell that draco has a lot of social power and figures that standing behind the bully is better than getting picked on by them

fights the troll- reason varies by au. in the original/base au he does it bc he realizes that if someone gets pasted by a troll they might close the school. in the "true" version he does it to protect someone who was kind to him.

he knows far more spells than Harry and Ron did, but none of them are effective on a troll, which is resistant to magic. his strategy is to make it mad and stall for time until the teachers arrive.

is terrible at quidditch

this causes quirrel to put a snake under his bed instead of trying to make him fall off a broom

he convinces the snake not to kill him

is entirely disinterested in the philosopher's stone and the third floor corridor

"someone's trying to steal the infinite money and live forever stone? sounds like a problem for adults."

not that he thinks adults are competent enough to stop it happening. he just doesn't care.

the mirror of erised works as intended, actually, if quirrel ever gets there.

quirrel probably either takes one last stab at alex before going for the stone or is unsuccessful and returns to trying to kill alex while he works on that. alex uses the protection his mother gave him to kill quirrel.

while fighting quirrel doesn't really make sense, I wanted to keep that in so that the main events in following books would still happen.

[teamwitch2-blog]

Some poems I wrote and wanted to share with you all. Would love to hear what you all think.

Come to me, my perfect one,

the youthful night still isn’t done.

To the water’s edge I call you near.

My voice, my song will lead you here.

Upon the breeze I send this spell,

The love in your heart will never quell.

In darkness I will be your light,

Your reason to stand up and fight.

I will shield you, strong and true.

With my words and spells anew.

Hold me in your arms, my mate,

Bind our hearts together by fate.

I am the one you do desire,

The perfect mate that you require.

In this moment and from this day,

By your side I’ll forever stay.

The shadow twists in wisps and dance,

In my sight the ink entrance.

Gone the shadow and the shame,

Only light and dark reclaim.

In this moment see the song,

A simple tune deep and strong.

A heart thread bleeds but none shall see,

What you truly mean to me.

You are my world and the one I crave,

The one who I will gladly save.

Mortal bonds of life and death,

Will hold no sway as I draw breath.

In this moment song of life,

Heal wounds caused by the knife.

The pain of heart that you endure,

Will cauterize swift and sure.

Memories echo within the mind,

All the trauma that I find.

Speak no more and stay your heart,

Remove the damage they impart.

A song in rhyme that you do see,

Will lift you up and set you free.

I will fly to you on high,

And stay with you until you die.

From now until that moment, last,

My heart is yours, the spell be cast.

Chaos of the darkest kind,

Held within a shattered mind.

In the moment that I see,

Light will shine as I decree.

Gone all pain and gone the strife,

Death is vanquished in the name of Life.

To speak the words that I now crave,

Life restored and this spirit save.

In no time at all, the chaos is calm,

Soothed by words, a healing balm.

Fresh as the mint of the morning breeze,

Pain begone and ailments ease.

A single tree within the grass,

Strong and tall, time will pass.

Into darkness, the tree will descend,

Both a beginning and an end.

From the ashes of the old,

A new sapling grows, strong and bold.

Clearing the way for life anew,

Reaching for the sky of blue.

With light that shines upon it’s leaves,

To nature’s law, the sapling cleaves.

Till the moment that it dies,

The sapling, the tree, from the ashes arise.

Words of wisdom flow like gold,

Water and light now unfold.

In shadow, the glimmer of hope you see,

I stand beside you as a friend should be.

I hold in hand the tools of my craft,

Paper and pen, the world to draft.

A simple stroke will protect you well,

Sealed in this sacred spell.

A web of light and magic unbidden,

Reveals emotions that are hidden.

To stand beside you in peace and war,

Warms me up down to my core.

Into the fray we enter with rage,

Fighting the demons that hold keys to the cage.

We fight for our hearts and what we believe,

To each other we will now cleave.

Cling to me and I to you,

Speaking the words strong and true.

At the end of the day,

You are mine either way.

The orange glow of golden light,

Filled the room and entered my sight.

As I sat at the table and wrote,

The words I wove seemed to float.

In the darkness that was the page,

The solid reminder that I was a mage.

The words of white glowed and sang,

In my heart, their chorus rang.

So sweet and strong with resounding voice,

To follow them was not a choice.

I danced along the page of black,

As words of white flew forth and back.

Every line a single thread,

A simple tapestry to be read.

Holding firm the threads of speech,

Healing hearts and minds in reach.

Waves of cool entreated by spell,

Words of power, anxiety quell.

Eclipsing darkness where it hid,

Finding truth behind the lies that slid.

Into shadow the words did seep,

Tears of joy to my mind did leap.

Enclosed within the poem I made,

Healing found and pain to fade.