#oh boy this is a lot and i am no t tagging

[schizowitchic]

also like i partially found out i might be intersex because i was looking at trans stuff and there was like "(however many) months on t and finally seeing some bottom growth" and like pictures of t-dicks and i was like.... um.... that's kind of just what my clit looks like anyways. so i was like "hey google give me a quick rundown on this" and learned what clitoromegaly was and then i was like. hm. intersex resources. and it's like a sign? symptom? side-effect? of certain intersex conditions

[almostempty]

Look at this photograph

(joel miller x f!reader)

The half sequel (Chapter 1.5) to Never made it as a wise man

WC: 3.5k | Part 1 | Other fics | Rating: 18+ 

Summary: you open Joel’s dick pic and (after examination) decide to give him a call

Note: it’s me ya boi (gn), back with more divorceddadrockdilf!joel bc you guys get me. i know y’all want them to fuck, and I want them to fuck too. unfortunately, this flowed through me first, and I am merely a vessel for the spirit of buttrock joel. 

so, until they get their freak nasty on, please enjoy this as a chapter 1.5, with gratuitous dick pic art critique and crankin’ it over the phone <3 don’t worry, he’s still a lil pathetic. mistakes and bad jokes are all on me. 

Tags: au no outbreak modern joel, divorced dad rock dilf joel x f!reader, picks up right where ch.1 ended, dick pic descriptions, alternating pov, dirty talk, phone sex, masturbation, it’s all just phone sex, but edge yourself through it with fond memories of ch. 1, still crackish, but i am still dead serious about it being hot so idc

inspo playlist i found on spotify: Divorced Dad Rock: BANGERZ

thanks: to @hellishjoel for hosting the #hotdilfsummerchallenge and to everyone who enjoyed part 1 

@gothcsz i promise fuckboy!joel is cookin, he’s just in the crockpot rn. he’s gotta tenderize like a white lady’s pinterest recipe for pulled pork. 

* i tried to tag everyone who wanted more, but if you don’t wanna be here i’ll remove it <3 or if i missed you and you want to be tagged next time pls let me know

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” you blurt out after opening the message from Joel. The vulgar dick pic sends a prickly worm of arousal slithering down your spine. 

Without thinking, you tilt the phone down toward your chest, and your eyes shoot up like you’ve got to make sure nobody saw your naughty message. Warmth blooms on your cheeks as the flash of embarrassment starts to dissolve. You don’t need to hide. 

You’re in your bed, in your apartment, wearing Joel’s grubby Creed t-shirt. The one that smells like Degree Sport and a Jiffy Lube break room. You're free to look at all the dick pics your heart desires. And that’s what you’re going to do. 

The wiggle of bashful energy turns into a squirm as you shift your hips, seeking a comfy position in bed. The t-shirt bunches up under your back and you wonder if the unique Joel scent of it will linger on your pillow beneath your shoulders. You knew pilfering the shirt on the way out the door was a good move, and now you get to enjoy your trophy. It makes it feel like the broad-as-a-barn-door DILF himself was still close enough to touch you. 

It gives you another bright shudder when you think about the noises he made when he came in your hand earlier. The disappointed grunts of “fuck, wait” and how he tried to choke down the throaty groan that came from deep in his chest. Fuck. The perverted gremlins that have a permanent residence in your mind have been roused by the digital dick, and now they chitter and squawk at you. More! More! More!  

You reopen the message, and seeing it gives you another rush. You save the picture to your phone storage. For your personal collection. Mine now, big boy. Your chin starts to dip towards your chest. It’s like you’re giving your phone the Kubrick stare with the ghost of a smirk. You’re free to take your time with this one. And you can be as much of a creep as you want. That makes you sigh softly and sink deeper against your pillows. 

Before this afternoon, it was titillating when Joel would pop up in your mind's eye with his slutty slo-mo scenes. The one where he was bent over your car's engine like Megan Fox in that Transformers movie. Or, that damn happy trail tease with the t-shirt-sweat-rag move. You had just enough imagery to let your dirty thoughts take the wheel. 

And, god, you had a good production team in your mind for projects starring Joel. Adding this will give the team a whole lot more to work with. You can hear them crashing around your conscious like the Animaniacs on the Warner Brothers lot. Horny chaos goblin mode activated. 

Now that you have time to study the image, from the luxury of your microfiber sheets and lamplit bedroom, you let it get pervy. It’s your first real, lingering look–earlier today, you were so busy trying to rile him up in his jeans that you didn’t even pull it out.

It had somehow been even more delicious that way. Having him all needy and unable to stop himself from making a mess in your hand. And not just the noises, but the erratic thrusts into your tight fist? The heat of his pulsing length as he forgot himself? Yeah, you’re gonna remember that one. 

But now? Now you need the visual. If the devil is in the details, you have a new neighbor with horns and a tail. 

You zoom in on everything. Holding your phone closer to your face than necessary, like how do we enhance this bitch? 

And holy shit. 

Drool pools in your mouth and between your legs. You have the knee-jerk reaction to lick your phone. 

You can hear Joel’s voice from earlier today. All husky and grumbly, arguing that you really were a slut for him, like, “You are, aren’t you, though? You came all this way in this excuse for a shirt just to see me?”  He might be touch-starved enough to cream his jeans, but you just know he’s got a nasty mouth in bed, and you’ve got to find out firsthand. Soon. There’s no reason not to, right? 

You pause when a flicker of reasoning tickles the back of your neck. 

You’re back to looking in your review mirror in Joel’s driveway. The last-ditch attempt at checking your ego before you marched to his front door like a Halloween hoe bag version of Betty Crocker. 

You had told yourself you weren’t trying to fuck your (almost) friend’s (sort of) dad. Told yourself there was nothing to pursue, and even if there was, you wouldn’t bite. 

You like Ellie. She’s been (mostly) welcoming to you. You told yourself not to fuck anything up with the only person that’s got a single one of your jokes at your new job. 

You were just bringing some food as a friendly gesture. The fresh visuals to add to your spank bank reel were supposed to be a harmless bonus. Okay, maybe it was a stretch to say you had rolled up to Joel’s driveway with pure intentions. 

And it was an even bigger stretch��when he added that third finger while he finger fucked you on the kitchen counter—wait, no. It was an even bigger stretch when you had told yourself you probably weren’t his type anyway. 

Like, that guy? With the fridge full of Coors Banquet? With those ugly Oakley sunglasses that you know are featured in his only picture on social media that isn’t a car or truck? The guy with all the words to Buckcherry’s “Crazy Bitch” and Puddle of Mudd’s “She Hates Me” memorized? 

Nah, deep down, you knew. You knew there was no way that middle-aged bachelor would turn down any action. But you hadn’t planned on actually making a move, especially not a handjob in the middle of the kitchen. 

That’s on Joel for leaving the door open while trying to rub one out to some bimbo on Brazzers. And for barking at you in that sexy, angry voice. And for teasing you with the bulge in his oil-stained jeans. What were you supposed to do? 

Something must be really rotting in the logic department of your brain. 

Hey! The gremlin voice in your head is still shouting at you. Hey!! Why are we not tasting that dick yet?!! You’re back from your daydream and the excuses you crafted for your behavior, back to laying in your bed with Joel’s dick pic emitting a bright glow in your hand. 

You still do want to lick the screen. 

Fortunately for your immune system, you control your tongue. The critical part of you expels a sigh when you zoom out and take in the picture. 

It’s undoubtedly a nice cock, but the image as a whole? Yikes. 

Why do men have to be so fucking thick? And blunt? Wait, now you’re just describing the slightly blurry boner lighting up your face. Thick as in dense. How can men be so dense? 

No imagination or creativity. No patience. 

You shake your head slightly, scoffing. No wonder you caught him hunched over his cracked phone screen. It was probably the first video loaded on the only site he had saved. 

No sweet, sweet, buildup, setting the mood, or getting cozy. Just whippin’ it out midday or snapping a photo in some ratty sweats. 

Like you’ve never been that touch-starved or down bad?

You ignore that voice to continue your art critique. 

The photo you sent is… sexy. 

Sultry. A flirty tease. It says, “Look who has your shirt? Am I wearing it in bed? Do you think I'm wearing anything else?” 

It’s all implied in the look in your eye and the picture's composition. The tease of the soft curves on the underside of your breasts, asking if he remembers what they felt like. Your hand bunching up the shirt, asking if he remembers the slide of that fist around his cock. If he remembers those fingers, the ones you sucked his sticky spend off of. 

Such delicately crafted imagery. Personalized erotic fine art.  

But men are so crude about it. He sees your tasteful, sexy pic, and immediately, the best his caveman brain can come up with is: send her ur dick! STAT!! Hard cock! Now!!

And, of course, he did. Taken in the dark with the flash on, making ominous shadows in the background. His old charcoal gray sweats are pulled down just enough to expose everything he’s offering. 

The color is slightly blown out from the flash, and it’s a touch blurry where his phone didn’t autofocus quickly enough. His hand looks like it’s straight up, just choking the base of his cock. It’s jarring. 

But that’s really the “man” of it all, right? Nothing subtle or demure about a rock-hard erection jutting towards you, reaching like it could get to you on its own if it just could get a little bit harder. No, there’s nothing coy about the raw thoughts of a man with no blood left in his brain who’s just aching to get inside you, either. 

And fuck if that doesn’t start to override your critical analysis. 

The glare from the flash reflects in the beads of precome rolling down his rosy tip. Mouth wateringly delicious. Your blood rushes to your pussy, filling your tender sex with heat and a deep, needy itch. It makes you dopey and silly. Not cock drunk, but like, dick pic buzzed. 

You know it felt sizeable in your hand earlier, but you aren’t an expert at estimating size from a through-the-pants handjob. You try to recreate your own grip around nothing to estimate the size. 

You giggle to yourself when you realize you're just a woman in her bed staring at her hand, jerking an invisible cock. The horny goblins aren’t amused, though. They’re sick of the daydreaming and distractions. They’re picking fights with the rest of your mind. Throwing rocks and sticks, shrieking and hissing. 

The part of your brain that was griping about how men used to write love letters and respect the art of romance is getting quieter and further from your faculty for caring. You can hear its muffled shouts, and you assure that voice that you won’t give it all up this easily. Then, you completely tune it out. 

The last brain cell with a complaint has you rolling your eyes. You have to be ovulating or something because it’s wholly debased the way this guy is doing it for you. 

He’s just shameless with it. 

You sent him tasteful underboob, and he gives you jumpscare dick-in-the-dark! How is this supposed to escalate? He gave it all up immediately! You send another picture, and he sends you his money shot? What’s he gonna do to give you more? Send you an asshole shot? That one makes you snort. You bet he would do it, too, if you asked. 

Oh, that gives you a better idea. He’s not getting another picture from you at all. You tap on his name and tap the call icon. Of course, this horny motherfucker answers immediately. You aren’t sure it even rang before you’re connected to his porny bedroom voice. 

“What are you wearing, dollface?” 

“I already showed you. Call me dollface again, and I’m hanging up.” 

You can hear his breathing like he’s got the mic on his phone in his mouth. That would typically drive you fucking nuts, but right now, you wanna hear his heavy breath against your ear and feel it hot against your skin.

“All right,” he speaks slowly, distracted. You know why. “You wanna be my slut, instead?” 

Fuck. That has you throbbing between your legs, but he doesn’t get to know that yet. 

“I already told you,” you keep your voice low and soft, “you don’t get to call me a slut for you, not with your behavior.” You strain, trying to hear any other noises, but his mic is probably clogged with dust from his shop or lint from the pocket of his sweats. You can just hear his fucking breathing. 

“What behavior, baby?” he rasps.

“You always jump straight to sending a picture of your cock?” 

You hear the soft snort through the phone. Followed by a deeper, throatier noise. A noise that makes you go cross-eyed and has you running a hand down to your naked lower half to tease yourself. 

“You always steal a man’s clothes after you come on his fingers?” 

You don’t really care what he asked. His voice makes your tongue go numb. Your mind goes blank. You start slowly, coating your own fingers in your slick arousal and drawing circles with a light touch. 

You hum a noncommittal response into the phone. 

“You look good in my shirt, baby, fuck,” he trails off breathlessly. The idea of you in his clothes gets him too close. 

You don’t answer, and he’s too far gone to wait and tease. 

He’s been wound up since you took off this afternoon, and it doesn’t feel like a coincidence that you sent him that pic when he had just gotten into bed.

It had taken ages to get his brother out of the shop this afternoon, and then Joel completely fucked up when he mentioned you and the lasagna. He had to begrudgingly host Tommy for dinner when he couldn’t come up with a better excuse than saying, “I’m gonna need you to fuck off so I can deal with the aching balls I’ve got from your surprise visit scaring away the woman I had my fingers knuckle deep inside.”

But when he was finally alone, it was like fate; your text came through right after he flopped onto his bed. His semi-stiff cock had sprung to full mast at the sight of you. The shirt he knew he didn’t fuckin’ lose, your soft curves, and the expression on your face. Like a vixen. Your PG-13 tease would do more for him than any X-rated video. 

Knowing you were thinking about him and that you wanted him to know? That had him throbbing. He already knew from the desire in your eyes earlier today that you wanted more.

He could swear his fingers still hold the lingering flavor of your wet cunt. The visceral memory of you has him on edge. When he wraps his hand around the base of his cock, he has to pause, holding firmly in place. His body screams and aches for release, but he’s determined to keep it in check. He doesn’t want to blow his load until he gets a response from you. 

He fights his urges, trying not to fuck his own fist in a frantic race to come. 

But, fuck, it’s difficult when he can imagine the sounds you’d make as you sank onto his cock for the first time. The face you’d make. Your tight, wet walls hugging him just right. Like, he’s where he’s meant to be. 

And the way you would look, bouncing on top of him. Your tits, your blissed-out face, the way your soft lips would part when you called out his name and cried for more. 

Those lips. 

The way he’d love to see them swollen and slobbering around the base of his cock. Fuck. His hips buck reflexively, and he hisses out a breath through his clenched teeth. When his phone lights up with your name, he answers before it can make a sound. You’re so bold. He likes that. It plasters a saucy grin on his face. 

And now, with your breathy voice crackling through his janky phone speaker, he’s not gonna last long. You've got him losing his composure for the second time in one day. His whole body is rigid. His toes flex and snap unconsciously, and his jaw tenses. He hears your soft moan, and his thoughts are overflowing. He has no filter left. 

“Yeah, baby? You moaning for me?” His hips punch up into his fist, and he gives in, allowing himself firm, severe strokes. “You’ve got me so hard. You moaning for my cock?” 

You are so not gonna answer that one. If the next words out his mouth are, “Yeah, you like that?” you’re gonna block him for that. But it is undeniably hot to hear him already so worked up. You just know he’s gonna be coming all over himself again for you, and that really does make you moan just for him.

Your noises earn you another growly groan from Joel that you’d kill to hear again. The more uninhibited his noises are, the louder you get in response.

“You using your fingers, or you have a toy?” his question is punctuated with a grunt. 

“Mm, just fingers,” you purr, finally granting him an actual response as you roll your hips. Having Joel on the line gives you a heady sense of satisfaction. Wondering what’s going to come out of his filthy mouth next gives you a shiver of anticipation. 

“I know that sweet pussy is just achin’ to be filled again.” Correct. 

“Yes.” 

“S’right, baby, I know.” 

Joel whimpering on the phone for you is absolutely going to get you off. Your hips chase your own fingers. You switch your phone audio to speakerphone and drop it on your pillow so you can use both hands. Pinching at your own nipples as if it were Joel’s big hand under your smuggled shirt. 

“Tell me,” he pants, “who do you need to fill it for you?” 

“You, Joel.” 

“Fuck,” he chokes out, “you wanna ride this cock, huh baby?” 

“Mhmm.” Bingo. Right again. You wish you could feel the pressure of him inside of you, massaging and soothing away the agony. The weight of his body atop of yours, so solid and secure. You can just about feel the pressure of his pelvis grinding into you. The friction from the coarse curls at the base of his cock getting you closer and closer. 

“Know you’d do so good,” he cuts himself off with a low noise, “so damn sexy.” 

“What else would you do with me?” You wanna hear it. For your own fantasy and to know what he’s into.  

“I’d have you taking me down your throat til you’re crying on it for me, fuck,” a primal noise erupts from him.

Face fucking. Of course. You can’t deny that when he says it, your body responds instantaneously. Your pussy floods eagerly at the idea, and your cheeks burn hot from the visual he gives you. You swallow down your moans, and you can imagine the weight of him on your tongue and the strain of trying to swallow around his cock. 

“You wanna come down my throat?” As if that isn’t a fucking siren song that would make him steer a fleet of ships into a cliff? Your salacious words are too much. 

“Shit. Yeah, baby, wanna watch you swallow for me.” You let all your moans and gasps flow freely for him to hear. “I’m so fuckin’ close,” he can’t stop the words from spilling out his mouth, “let me hear it, baby,” he can’t stop his pending bliss either. “Please, baby, I can’t, oh f-fuck,” he cuts himself off with another primitive grunt, and that’s precisely what your cavewoman cunt wanted to hear. 

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” The horny goblins chant out loud this time. You can envision sweaty, pleading Joel lurching toward a reckless, full-body climax. 

You’re far from grace when the crude sounds he lets out turn you into an uncivilized beast. You hear him gasping, growling, and whining for you. It plunges you into a staggering orgasm. Rolling waves of ecstasy leave you panting and sweating.  

You lie in bed, chest rising and falling beneath the Creed logo. You’re left stunned at the intensity. A dreamy smile spreads across your face, and warm contentment, like honey, pours slowly over your muscles. Relaxing you as your tension softens and you turn to pick your phone back up.

Why was it so wholly consuming just to listen to him? Imagining the mess he made again,

because of you. 

Maybe you’re just made for each other. 

You and Joel. 

Oh, god. You should start listening to Alanis Morissette and Evanescence and trade your car for a 1990s-era Toyota 4runner and a pack of Marlboro Smooths. Really lean into matching his freak and the divorced alt-rock vibes.

You laugh softly into your phone before a deep sigh possesses you, and you nearly fall asleep. You stretch and smile, letting your heavy eyelids rest. 

He’s muttering something at you, catching his breath from the stress of being that fucking horned up for you all evening. And the overexertion of lasting long enough to hear your sweet cries of release. 

“You’re unreal,” his smoky voice rings with awe. “Got me shooting loads like a fucking teenager.”

You snort at the juxtaposition of his tender voice and crude comment before ending the call with a whispered, “Goodnight.” 

It shouldn’t make you smile. 

But he’s somehow such an enticing disaster. A cliche lonely bachelor, a cocksure idiot who knows he’s got a big dick and a generous guy who was willing to fix a stranger's car. 

You shouldn’t be trying to justify it, but you know he had you figured out earlier. 

You may be sated tonight, but you won’t be able to rest.

Not until you get your hands on that DILF – or rather, your pussy on that dick. 

divider by @cyberangel-graphics

PLEASE tell me if you enjoyed or hated it 

OR throw rocks at me if you’re upset they didn’t smash yet or tell me ur favorite divorced dad rock song

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General tags 💗:

@lovely-vamp-princess @gothcsz @auteurdelabre @adoreyouusugar @swankyorange

[onlyangel4]

Broken by They and Jessie Reyes with kinda insecure reader and max (or lando, whoever fits best!) you can do written or smau! 🫶🫶

broken. mv1. smau.

max verstappen x reader

every relationship reader has ever been in has ended in tears, so they begin thinking that they are broken and max has to convince them otherwise.

author's note: for this reader and max have been seeing each other for six months but did not put a label on things until later

faceclaim: madelaine petsch

y/ninsta posted a story

written: face mask time because if i don't do something i will spiral about a man that i am not even dating

y/bff replied to your story: has something happened between you and max?

y/ninsta: no but it will

maxverstappen replied to your story: if this is about me you do not need to spiral

mv1updates posted a story

written: max has been spotted leaving gatwick airport in london after his private jet touched down

y/ninsta posted a story

written: what the fuck did i do to deserve these

y/bff replied to your story: wtf i told him to try and talk to you, like call you and he brought you a whole fucking rose bush

y/ninsta: usually i would be mad at you for telling him my secrets but thank you, seeing him has calmed me down

maxverstappen posted a story

charlesleclerc replied to your story: is that y/n, i thought she tried to end things with you

maxverstappen: she was confused

y/ninsta posted a story

written: screaming, crying and throwing up because i have finally found a man and not a boy

y/bff posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: i can't believe we forced y/n's boyfriend to take this picture

maxverstappen

liked by y/ninsta, y/bff, landonorris and 1,634,231 others

tagged: y/ninsta

maxverstappen: i fallen in love.

with a girl that needs glasses but complains that "they ruin every outfit", so she walks around blind

with a girl that "would marry pasta if it was legal"

with a girl that has self care thursdays "to keep the demons away"

with a girl who got stuck in the cat flap because she wanted to prove that she would fit, she didn't.

i just wanted to introduce you all to y/n she is very special so you will be seeing a lot of her

view all 78,645 comments

user1: from what i know about y/n i love her already

user2: oh my god she seems like so much fun

y/ninsta: i love you so much but i do wish you used better pictures of me i look like a crazy lady

maxverstappen: you are my crazy lady

landonorris: the fucking cat flap, how did you get her out

maxverstappen: handsaw

y/ninsta: it was humbling

y/bff: finally someone is treating my girl how she deserves to be treated

maxverstappen: i wouldn't dream of anything else

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[tastefulstars]

Get in Line

Your words come back to haunt you and now Billy, Eddie and Steve are making it their personal mission in life to ruin you.

Billy Hargrove x Eddie Munson x F!Reader x Steve Harrington

word count: 5.6k

a/n: this uhh got away from me a little and ummm, im not sorry :))

taglist: @starkleila

content warnings: 18+ only, mdni, fxmxmxm, piv, pia, pim, degradation (lots of sl*t/wh*re), dirty talk, oral (f&m receiving), fingering (v&a), possessiveness, manhandling, very very unprotected sex, rough handling & choking, over-stimulation, multiple orgasms. lmk if anything is missed. masterlist next

You wake slowly, body heavy and sleepy. You're groaning and regretting being awake when oh no, no no no, your words from last night filter through your brain - why would I choose one when I could have all of them? Three dicks for three holes - and you're mortified. Shame and humiliation has your face burning and you sink into your bed, pulling the covers up and over the top of your head and wishing the ground would just open up and swallow you whole.

You know they heard you, heard you basically admit to fantasizing about the three of them tag-teaming and passing you between them and using you, and if you never had to look them in the eyes again, you would be absolutely fine with that.

You're content to stay in bed and simmer in your shame when there's a slamming on your door and you whimper because there's only one person who has the balls to bang on your door like that. You do your best to ignore it but the banging only gets louder and more insistent and annoying.

Stomping your way to the door, you yank it open, glaring at Billy.

"What?" You snap, he's standing there - one arm up and leaning against the door frame and looking stupid and handsome and does he not know how to button his damn shirts? You watch as his smirk grows more prominent as he rakes his eyes down your body, you're only wearing a pair of undies and an old smurfs shirt that really, really doesn't cover much. Your scowl deepens.

"We're going out" He finally says, jerking his chin over his shoulder and you spot Steve and Eddie, hanging out the windows of Steve's car and they're leering at you just as much as Billy had been.

"Have fun then" You say, moving to slam the door closed on him - he's quick though, shoving his way in just enough you can't close it. He smiles sweetly at you.

"Oh no - don't be like that" His voice is soft and syrupy and it makes you want to melt, "you're coming with us, sweetheart"

The way he says it is absolutely sinful and you feel the heat radiating off your cheeks and you don't know where to look. He's pushing at you, making you stumble backwards, and keeps his hands on your hips as he marches you to your room and pushes you inside.

"Get changed"

He waits outside your door, which you firmly shut because you don't know if you could take his comments, and quickly slide on a pair of fitted red striped pants and pull a fitted black tank depicting a skeleton riding on a motorbike over your head. You weren't trying to get dressed up but, well, if your clothes would make your boys not take their eyes off you, then even better.

You shake your head roughly, your hair is a lost cause and you don't have the energy for makeup. You slide a pair of socks on your feet before you're grabbing your backpack and jacket. You yank the door open and Billy is still there, leaning casually on the wall opposite.

"Very nice" He's commenting, lip curling at the corners and you huff, pushing at him. You slip your feet into your boots, hand holding onto Billy's shoulder and he reaches for your waist to steady you.

You push him out the door and pile into Steve's waiting car. Both Steve and Eddie turn and beam at you, greeting you warmly and you feel your eyes narrow, suspicion creeping up your spine.

"She's grumpy today" Billy says from the front, ignoring your 'am not!', "She might need some extra lovin'"

Eddie reaches across the seat and slips his fingers into your pants at your hip and you suck in a sharp breath as he pulls, sliding you across the backseat until you're flush against him. Your lungs are shuddering and you really don't know what to do, your face is going to combust, you know it.

"Aw, poor baby" He's laughing at you.

"We'll take care of you, don't worry" Steve is throwing a grin over his shoulder at you as he backs out your driveway.

You scowl at them all and fold your arms across your chest, face flushed and heart tapping out a quick beat.

"Why are you three even hanging out? You don't like each other" You're snapping at them and trying to will yourself into not being so damn turned on, you're embarrassed and horny and they know it.

"Ahh" Eddie waves his hand, "Those two ain't so bad"

"It helps we have a comment interest" Steve adds, and the feeling of wanting the ground to swallow you up comes rushing back.

Billy's eyes catch yours in the rear-vision mirror and you want to wipe that smug smirk off his stupid face, and maybe kiss his stupid face and then kiss Eddie's stupid face and then Steve's even stupider face. You turn away from the three of them and stare out the window, willing your face and heart and body to just calm down already!

You know they're doing this on purpose, riling you up and teasing with their words and touches, unfortunately for you - they are very, very good at it and it works very, very well.

They end up taking you to the arcade and they argue who was going to pay for your tokens and your drinks and your snacks, who would be taking care of you. You rub at your eyes, and sigh heavily.

"Enough!" You whine, "just, just cut it out - please? Billy buy my tokens, Steve you get my drinks and Eddie you can buy my snacks, alright? Settled?"

They're smiling at you and you just groan. It was going to be a long day.

By the time they drop you off home, your undies are soaked and they've reduced you to a blushing mess with their innuendos and causal touches that were anything but.

They all walk you to your door, which in itself is strange, normally they'd just sit in their cars and wait until you'd shut your house door behind you. You thank them for the day as you dig your keys out of your bag and when you look up at them from under your lashes, they're leering again. Starting at you with blatant want, and your flush deepens.

"Well, goodnight!" You squeak and fly into the safety of your home. You hear their laughter and muffled voices and you bury your face in your hands and whimper.

You had hoped that that would be the end of it, time would pass and they'd move on to other conquests and your poor heart would be given a break from the constant flirting and touching, but no, no you're not that lucky.

They're almost always together now when you're with them, If you ask one of them to hang, the others show up. Sometimes they just show up unannounced at your home and push their way into your room and make themselves comfortable.

You really don't know how much more of it you can take, it's starting to get too much and you always feel overwhelmed and horny and you're in danger of developing feelings, so you try to put some distance between the four of you. You're conveniently busy when they want to spend time with you, or you've got a headache or you're not feeling well, or your parents really need your help, and you're starting to run out of excuses as to why you're avoiding them.

There's a party this weekend, you know that your boys don't know the host so you're going - desperate for a chance to relax and maybe even pick up a stranger. You take your time, styling your hair and doing your makeup, and you dress up - wearing a pair of fitted, high waisted denim shorts that really don't have any business being called shorts and a little black, top that shows off way too much cleavage.

The music is loud and the heat of everyone pressed into the living room is making you clammy but you're enjoying yourself. Letting loose and sipping your drink. There's a guy in your space and he's asking you if you want to dance and you say yes, taking his hand because why not? He's cute and maybe he'll help you forget your dumb feelings about Billy, Eddie and Steve.

The guy, Kevin? Mark? You don't know but he has his hands low on your hips as you dance, the tips of his fingers almost resting on the curve of your ass. You've lazily draped your arms around his shoulders and tip your head back, closing your eyes and just enjoying the moment.

Well, you're enjoying it right up until you feel him, John? No Kevin - definitely Kevin, tense and still. You crack open your eyes and he's looking over your shoulder and then he blinks and tears himself away from you. You're left reeling and confused but there's a strong hand gripping your bicep and whirling you around and there's fucking Billy and Steve and Eddie.

They look angry and they're pulling at you, tugging you outside and ignoring your protests and attempts to yank your arms out of their grip. They're shoving you into Billy's car and he's tearing out of there, speeding down the road and away from the party.

"What the actual fuck?" You yell, anger bubbling to the surface. Billy is clenching his jaw and gripping the wheel tight and Steve has a stony expression on his face and Eddie, oh Eddie just looks disappointed, your heart is sinking and you feel tears burning in your eyes. You never wanted to hurt them. 

"Could ask you the same question" Steve says, clipped and short.

"We thought you didn't feel well" Eddie is saying, voice hard, "and yet, here you are"

You feel shame and guilt at lying to them well inside you and your face scrunches. You turn away, facing the door so they can't see the way your eyes water and you’re biting your lip and you try your hardest not to cry.

"You three don't own me" You're snapping out, redirecting your feelings into anger and Billy is snorting, "I'm allowed to spend time with who I want!"

"That's where you're wrong" Billy snarls, he's driving too fast and you don't even know where they're taking you. It's not until his pulling in behind Steve's car and you're eyeing the house, dark and silent, that you start to feel - not scared but well, almost scared, worried maybe? Apprehensive. You don't know what to expect and they all look so angry and disappointed and upset with you.

Billy is pulling open your door and leaning in, grabbing hold of your arms and pulling you out of his car. Steve's unlocking the house and Eddie is pushing your back and Billy is pulling your arm. You stumble in, and they're leading you to Steve's room. They only let go of you once you're inside the room, shut in with them and the rest of the world shut out.

You're breathing hard and you're almost enjoying this, being manhandled and the possessiveness. Almost. You just need them to communicate. They're standing, facing you with their arms crossed and blank faces. You shift, restless at their scrutiny and wanting them to just do something, say something.

"So?" It's Steve who breaks the silence, "care to explain why you have been blowing us off for weeks?"

And you know he doesn't mean it the way it sounds, but oh his words make you tremble and flush. You scrunch your nose up, looking anywhere but the three boys staring you down.

"You know why!" You crack, voice breaking. You can't keep ignoring what you've said - pretending you're okay with all the flirting and touching and not acknowledging how you feel about them. It's Eddie who sighs softly, moving to you and cupping your cheek.

"Yeah" He's keeping his voice soft, calm, "we know"

"Why do you think we've been spending so much time teasing you, flirting with you? All all of us, together?" Steve's saying, sighing and sitting on the edge of his bed. Eddie gently pushes you down, sandwiching you between him and Steve, and Billy is moving to kneel in front of you.

"Yeah, hell, after spending so much time with you three - I even kind of like these two loosers now" Billy confesses, resting his hands on your thighs, "And if any of you say anything to anyone, you'll regret it."

You laugh and the utter sweetness in his voice as he threatens you all, then it all becomes too much and you collapse, hunching in on yourself and trying to be as small as possible. Eddie holds your hand and Steve rubs your back and Billy is gently pressing his fingers into your thighs.

"What? You sayin' you don't want us anymore and we've put all this effort into wooing you for nothing?" Steve jokes, a hint of anxiety in his voice - they were worried you had changed your mind and that's why you were at the party, but you're shaking your head.

"No, I just-" Your voice is quiet, meek. "I guess I didn't think you three would be okay with it? Wouldn't be okay with sharing or being in that situation and it's not like this is normal"

You hiss out the word like you're ashamed of your desires, and a small part of you is.

"We wouldn't be here if we weren't" Billy says, Steve hums in agreement.

"We talked about it, almost as soon as you said it at that party. We've been talking about this for months, babe" Eddie assures you.

"Believe us?" Steve murmurs against your shoulder. Eddie's looking at you with his big brown eyes and Billy is watching from under his lashes and Steve's got his lips mouthing the skin of your shoulder and it's all too much for you and you hiccup a gasp and nod.

"Tell us what you want"

And you're so, so embarrassed, your cheeks burning, as you whisper that you want to be passed around from one of them to the other, as they compete to see who can fuck you the best, to hold you down and push their dicks into you and make you squirm and take it, that you want them to not stop using you until they're completely sated and satisfied, that you don't want them to stop even if you're begging them to - only to stop of you say your safe word that you whisper to them.

And oh.

Eddie is pressing his lips against yours in a downright filthy kiss. It's all tongue and teeth and you can feel your combined spit drooling down your chin. When you gasp for air you're being yanked away from Eddie, Billy pressing himself up and licking into your mouth.

"Not gonna be much of a competition" Billy is saying into your mouth, "We all know I'll fuck you the best"

And really, you should have known they would be taking this too seriously - like it was an actual competition and you were the prize.

Steve is snorting and muttering a 'not likely' and Eddie is huffing a 'yeah right'.

You're a mess before they've even gotten your clothes off, slick soaking right through your shorts and your cunt aching, all from the messy, sloppy kisses they've been pressing into your mouth. It's Billy who notices.

"Jesus fuck" He laughs, "She's fucking soaked and we haven't even touched her"

Steve's raising his eyebrows and pushing his fingers between your legs, shoving Billy’s hand away where it'd been cupping you. He groans when he feels your drenched shorts and you squirm, trying to get some pressure from his fingers. Eddie clamps his hands on your hips and stills you.

"God she's such a slut" Eddie laughs, "Absolutely desperate for it"

"I bet she's gotten off, thinking about taking our cocks" Steve says, "and she really thinks that pathetic little guy would have been able to satisfy her? Look at her, one cock is not enough for a whore like her"

Billy is laughing at his comment, you almost hate how much their words arouse you, your veins feel like they're on fire and you're whining, panting and trying to move to get your clothes off.

"What do you think you're doing?" Eddie asks, condescendingly, Steve chuckles.

"I think she wants her clothes off"

"Of course she does, she's a slut" Billy agrees, and he's reaching for your shirt and so is Steve and Eddie and they each have the fabric in their hands and they just, tear it. You moan at the display of strength and go limp, letting them rid you of the rest of your clothes and you're left laying on the bed naked while they're all still fully dressed. It's absolutely thrilling, you're gushing slick and almost desperate enough to start begging already.

"Who's going first?" Steve asks, the boys glance at each other and Billy shrugs.

"We'll all get a turn so it's not like it matters"

"You go then, Steve" Eddie says, sliding jacket off his shoulders and resting against the top of the bed. He shouldn't look so graceful and casual in his movements, especially when you can see how hard he is in his jeans, but he does.

Billy shoves at you until you're laying next to Eddie, head on a pillow and he's sitting beside you - mirroring Eddie. Eddie is resting his forearm on your shoulder, putting just enough of his weight to pin you there and trailing the fingers of his other hand along your nipple while Billy leans over you with his big hand squeezing your other tit and he's sucking on your neck.

Steve's nestling himself between your legs and pressing sloppy kisses on your hips and lower stomach. You can't stop whining and gasping, you couldn't think, couldn't do anything besides moan their names.

Your mind stutters and goes blank when Steve presses his mouth against your cunt, you don't even realize you've let out a high keen. Billy's laughing in your neck and Eddie pinches your nipple.

"God, she's a mess and we haven't even started" Billy chuckles.

"Hmm, just wait 'til we're done" Eddie replies, "she'll be so ruined that she wont be able to have anyone else"

The casual way they speak to each other about you sends little zings through you, your thighs shake around Steve's head where he is lazily eating at your pussy.

"How many times do you think we can make her come tonight?" Eddie asks and the others still, glancing at him then flicking their gazes to your red, flushed face.

"Six sounds good" Steve murmurs into your cunt, "two for each of us"

"I think she can give us more than six" Billy's commenting from where he's sucking hickies onto your breast.

"Lets find out"

Steve goes back to lapping at you and Billy is marking as much of your skin as he can reach and Eddie tweaks a nipple before leaning down and capturing your lips in a kiss.

The combined sensations of hands and lips all over your body has you overwhelmed already and you can't stop the sudden orgasm from washing over you. You shake against them, thighs tight around Steve's head and moaning into Eddie's mouth.

Steve doesn't give you a moment to catch your breath, he doesn't even bother to get undressed. He zips his jeans down and pulls out his cock and just shoves it inside you. You cry out and try to move but Billy and Eddie are just holding you down, pined to the bed, lazily kissing and sucking hickies into your skin.

Steve doesn't let you adjust to him and just starts fucking into you. You're so wet that every thrust is making an obscene squelching noise, you gasp little a little 'ah!" every time he's shoving back into you.

"Oh god, Steve" you whine, you can't move and all you want is to press your fingers against your clit and come all over his cock, "Steve, please - oh, ahh, ohhh - wanna, ah, wanna come"

"Again? Already?" Billy says, biting harshly on your collar bone, "Don't know if you deserve it. You're fucking her Steve - what do you think?"

"Hmm, I -" He's breathing heavily and his head hangs between his shoulders, his hips never faltering in their quick pace, "Fuck this pussy is so fuckin' tight"

"Bet it's drenched" Eddie murmurs, "We don't even need lube"

"You'll come all over my cock" Steve grunts at you, "Then I'll fill you up and make it even wetter for them"

You're keening softly and clench down on Steve's dick and Eddie presses his fingers on your clit and you're coming undone. Steve's grunting and gasping, thrusting a couple more times before he's shuddering his own release.

"Fuck" He pants, "Fuck, you've got to make her come on your cock, it's - fuck, so good"

Eddie shifts, shoving Steve out of the way and he's pulling your hips up and resting your ass on his thighs. Steve tucks himself away and lays on his side beside you, and latches his lips on your skin.

Billy is shoving his tongue in your mouth as Eddie thrusts inside you, you moan loudly around Billy's lips and bury a hand in his hair, using the other to grip Steve's bicep.

Eddie pounds into you, the angle is different this time and he's brushing against your g-spot on each rough thrust. His hands grip your hips and you just know you'll have finger print shaped bruises tomorrow. Your cunt is fluttering and you can't stop trembling, and you feel cock drunk already and you can't form any semblance of coherent thought.

Billy wraps a hand around your throat as he kisses you, his grip is firm but not tight and it goes straight to your cunt. Eddie moans softly and slams into you harder.

"Ah, hold her throat tighter" He gasps, "She just gushed all over me"

"Yeah?" Steve is speaking lowly, "You like being choked huh? You're so fucking dirty"

Billy moves, sitting beside you and holding you down by your throat and he shoves two fingers into your mouth. You gag on them and mindlessly start sucking, stroking the digits with your tongue.

"Bet you like that, huh? Whore" He's spitting at you and your eyes roll back.

Eddie is slamming into you and once he presses his fingers against your clit you climax for a third time, soft whimpers escaping your lips. He doesn't change pace, unrelenting and it only takes a few more hard brushes of his cock on your g-spot and you're squealing around Billy's fingers, your whole body shaking with a fourth orgasm.

Eddie slams into you a final time before he peaks, spilling inside you. He's moaning softly and rocking himself through his climax. Once he stills, he looks down at you.

"The fucking slut squirted all over me" He tells the others as he pulls out, his and Steve's combined fluids dripping out of you and spilling down your ass onto the mattress. He smacks Billy on the shoulder as he moves.

"Your turn, big boy" He quips.

You're mindlessly staring at them, brain fuzzy and whole body tingling. You feel so, so, good. Used and stretched and stuffed full of seed. Billy is grabbing your hips, lifting and spinning you - setting you on your knees and holding your ass in the air. He's behind you, pressing in, gripping your hips tight and you let yourself go limp, chest and shoulders pressed into the bed.

"Still so fucking tight" He's grunting and pounding into you, and it's all you can focus on is breathing between moans and how good your pussy feels and how amazing having cocks stuffed into you one after the other feels.

"God, the noises you make" Eddie groans.

"She's good huh?" Steve asks, casually, holding the back of your neck.

"So fucking good" Eddie agrees.

"This fuckin' tight, pretty pussy was made for this" Billy grunts out in time with his thrusts. You can feel the mess dripping down your thighs and you might be drooling onto the sheets and you're starting to feel overstimulated and sensitive and Billy just keeps going.

You're whining out a litany of please, please, oh god, Billy, please. You don't know exactly what you're begging for - to come, for him to come, for him to stop, for him to never ever stop. There’s a set of hands lifting your shoulders, holding you up, and a cock is being pressed against your lips.

You shudder and let your jaw go slack, sinking down onto it. You don’t even know who’s cock you’re sucking on and you’ve never, ever been so turned on.

“Fuck” Steve is saying above you, “Her fucking mouth”

“As good as her cunt?” Eddie asks, he’s got his hands underneath you and he’s playing with your tits, lips pressed against your back and biting.

“Nothin’ could be as good as this cunt” Billy chuckles, you moan around Steve’s cock at their words, loving how they could just speak the filthiest things about you so easily. Steve winds a hand in your hair and uses it as leverage it push and pull your head, using your mouth as a fuck hole.

“She’s loving this, being a little fucktoy and cumdump” Eddie says against your back, “She’s gonna cum any minute from it, aren’t you?”

You nod as best you can while being fucked in both your cunt and mouth and you can feel it building, a fifth orgasm creeping up on you. You clench around Billy’s cock and he stills, breathing heavily as he fills you.

He pulls out and shoves two fingers inside you, pushing all the fluid back inside your cunt. He’s rough and fast, fingering you and making you shake. The firm smack against your ass has you jerking and squeaking around Steve’s cock, there’s laughter above you and someone’s saying do it again. Billy smacks your ass, leaving red hand prints all over, each stinging smack makes you whine and jerk and you’re gagging on Steve’s dick, drool sliding down his cock, and your eyes roll and you orgasm.

They shove you, pushing you down on the bed and you pant, chest heaving, slick and fluid gushing out of your cunt. You’re so sweaty and hot and you can’t begin to express how good you feel, you can’t even think. You can hear them moving around and it takes all of your concentration and energy to roll your head and open your eyes. They’re stripping, and what a sight, they’re all so fucking hot and you can’t stop the whine leaving your lips.

Eddie’s all long and toned, tattoos littered over his body, and Steve’s tummy looks soft and his arms strong, and Billy is all lean muscle and tanned skin. You’ve already climaxed so many times but that doesn’t stop your cunt clenching and leaking even more slick. You’re wide eyed and slack jawed and flicker your gaze over all three of them, not really sure where to look but not wanting to take your eyes off them.

Eddie’s attaching his lips to your cunt, licking and sucking and cleaning you. Your back arches and you wail, sensitive and overstimulated. Billy grabs at your throat and slides his cock into your mouth and you do your best to take him, to suck and make him feel good. Steve is just stroking your chest and stomach, leaving trails of fire everywhere he trails his fingers.

“You’re such a good little slut” Steve murmurs, you whine and tremble, “Perfect pussy made just to take our cocks”

Billy takes it easy on you and rocks his hips gently, huffing quietly, and Eddie is pressing his thumb against your asshole and the pressure has you panting, tilting your hips down.  He pulls away from your cunt, just far enough to speak.

“Steve, you got some lube? As wet as she is, don’t want to risk hurtin’ her”

Your eyes slip closed and listen to the shuffling, a draw opening, a click of a bottle opening. You keen at the initial press of a finger into your ass and you can’t help yourself, rocking your hips and trying to feel more inside you. You can’t concentrate and your jaw slackens, Billy’s cock slipping out of your mouth.

“Fuck, who would have thought the innocent little princess would love it up her ass”

“I’m really not surprised - she’s a fuckin’ filthy whore”

“How many times you think she’s let some pathetic guy fuck her like this?”

“Oh, she’d beg for it every time”

“She’s never going to be satisfied now, no desperate guy like the one she was dancing with - what was his name?”

There’s a hand wrapping around your chin and jaw and squeezing, you open your eyes and make a sad little noise, eyes watering.

“What was his name, bitch?”

“Ke-Kevin” You gasp out, there’s too much happening all at once and you’re struggling to function, “Please”

“Right. Kevin would never be able to satisfy you”

There’s mean laughter and hands pressing everywhere and they don’t rush, taking you when they want. Eddie’s got his fingers buried in your ass and you need more, need to taste them, need them inside you. They’re dragging this out and you just break, and you start crying. You start begging between deep gasps and making little whining sounds on each exhale.

“Please, please - need more, please oh, I can’t, I can’t” 

They’re pushing you and moving, they’ve got you kneeling with an arm wrapped tight against you holding you against Eddie’s chest. Steve is slipping under you, legs resting either side of yours and Eddies, and Billy kneels just behind Steve’s head fisting his cock.

You’re being pushed down, kneeling over Steve who holds you up with strong hands on your waist, Eddie’s hands gripping your hips, and you’re being pushed down onto Steve’s cock, cunt clenching, and Eddie’s pressing into your ass. Billy reaches and grips your hair, feeding you his cock.

You’re completely full, your arms shaking with the strain of holding yourself up, you’ve never felt anything quite like this. Stretched and full and used, your brain buzzes softly and you just go blank - letting them use you ‘til they’re satisfied. 

There isn’t much talking once they start moving, Eddie and Steve rock in sync, in and out, out and in. Billy is shoving his cock as deep as you can take it, nose brushing on his coarse hair. It’s all too much, you’re too sensitive and you can’t take much more and you never ever ever want them to pull out. Tears flow freely down your cheeks and you let their grunts, groans and gasps wash over you, sending you into a blissfully, mindless state.

Your clit is brushing against Steve on every rock and you shudder as a sixth orgasm washes over you, making Steve and Eddie groan as you clench and flutter around them. You let out soft little gasps around Billy’s cock and on a particularly deep thrust, you gag around him.

Billy lets out a soft fuck and spills down your throat, you swallow as best you can but some dribbles past your lips and down your chin. It doesn’t take long for Eddie and Steve to both climax, pressing their cocks as deep as they can and groaning as they coat your insides.

There’s a moment of stillness, you all just hold yourselves, breathing heavily and basking in the pleasure.

Then Billy is pulling his cock out of your mouth and gently relaxing his hold on your hair, Eddie slips out of your ass and he helps Steve carefully roll you onto your side on the bed. There’s soft murmuring above you but you can’t comprehend anything outside of yourself, your mind blank and empty.

You feel a body pressed against your back and an arm around your waist, and someone’s running their fingers through your hair and stroking your face. After a few moments, your leg is being pushed, moved further up the bed and there’s a warm cloth being pressed against you. You whine quietly and flinch at the feeling of the rough fabric brushing against your swollen cunt and there’s a soft shushing noise.

You’re being rolled gently onto your back and there’s a body pressed against both your sides and someone is laying between your legs, resting their head on your stomach. They stroke your skin and hair and murmur words you don’t understand and the pressure of being surrounded by them grounds and relaxes you.

When you become aware of yourself and your surroundings, you let out a soft groan, alerting the boys to you.

“Hey baby” Steve’s murmuring against your cheek.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Billy asks softly from your other side. You risk a glance down and Eddie’s resting his chin on your tummy, staring up at you with doe eyes, he smiles lovingly when he notices you looking.

“Hey” You sound absolutely wrecked, voice broken and rough. Your body is sore and aching a little, and you were going to cry if they make you leave any time soon, “‘m good, sore, but good”

“Want a shower?” Steve asks, voice soft and sweet. You shake your head, letting your eyes slip closed and sighing.

“Not yet” You whisper.

“Sleep baby girl” Eddie tells you, pressing a kiss on your tummy, “We’ll take care of you, okay?”

You let yourself relax again, slipping back into yourself and welcoming the blissful, restful sleep. Within minutes you’re breathing deeply and the boys soon follow you, lulled to sleep by your quiet, rhythmic breathing.

[steddieas-shegoes]

always you

wanted to wish @rozzieroos a very happy birthday! you've been so supportive of me since the beginning and it makes a world of difference to someone who is always just a bit nervous to share the things they write. i am unfortunately not a very crafty bitch, so i can't return the friendship bracelet favor right now, but i hope this is a nice little sappy gift for ya! sending you big hugs and all my love 💕 - mickala

rated t | 1,324 words | no cw | tags: fluff, established relationship, the most miniscule hurt and almost entirely comfort, boys in love, side platonic stobin stuff but robin isn't technically there

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Steve always had an adrenaline crash after a visit from Robin. The first time it happened, Eddie was convinced they would have to move to Boston just so Steve could get out of the funk. Luckily, they figured out what to do after a couple of days.

And every time it's happened since, they manage to get him out of it pretty quickly.

But this time seemed worse, and Eddie wasn't sure why.

As far as he could tell, everything about the visit was normal. Robin came for a long weekend, they all went to dinner together the first night, Eddie had to work on Saturday so Steve and Robin had their fun together. Sunday, they all went to brunch together before dropping her off at the airport.

And Steve was fine! That evening he was cooking dinner and dancing to music while Eddie wrote some notes for a campaign he was running with work buddies. They ate together and Eddie did the dishes while Steve went through his nightly routine of locking up.

They even gave each other blowjobs in the shower.

But this morning, as soon as Eddie opened his eyes and smelled the bleach, he knew it was bad.

He sat up and looked out the open bedroom door.

"Fuck."

He got up quickly, throwing on the closest pair of pants he could find, probably Steve's since they felt baggier than his own, and made his way down the hall to the bathroom.

Steve was on his knees, scrubbing the shower like it personally offended him.

"Hey sweetheart, everything okay?" He asked hesitantly.

"Fine," Steve answered, clearly very far from fine.

Eddie sighed and sat on the closed toilet lid. "Stevie, it's okay if you wanna have a sad day. I know it's hard when Robin goes back home. I'm off today so we can just relax in bed if you want."

Eddie would never tell Steve that the reason he was off was because as soon as he knew when Robin was going back home, he'd requested the day off to be here for Steve.

"I don't need a sad day. I'm fine."

"Yeah, that's why you've scrubbed the shower until it's literally sparkling at way too early in the morning," Eddie reached out and covered his shoulder. "It's okay to miss her. I know it's hard."

Steve stopped scrubbing.

Eddie prepared for what was likely to be a very ugly and loud sob.

Steve turned to him with his lips quivering and eyes watery.

"Oh, sweetheart," Eddie said as he got on the floor with Steve and pulled him into his lap. "It's gonna be alright. We're gonna visit her next month, remember?"

"I know," Steve said against his shoulder, voice wobbling like he was still holding back tears. "I just don't wanna keep doing this."

"What?"

"I hate being so far from her. We were supposed to live close enough to see each other every weekend and have sleepovers and now she's in Boston with her girlfriend who is amazing, and I'm here with you and you're amazing, but I miss her. And I know she misses me." Eddie could feel tears soaking his shirt. "And it's stupid that we're so codependent still, and I feel bad that you probably feel like you're not enough."

"Sweetheart, I don't ever feel that way. I've never felt that way. Have I made you feel like I feel that way?" Eddie tightened his grip around Steve.

"No, not really," Steve shrugged. "It's just I know we're a lot. And I know it sometimes probably seems like I need her more than I need you, but I don't."

"Sweetheart, I know that." Eddie kissed the top of his head and smiled. "You're a package deal. I knew that the moment you kissed me in the hospital room. I was getting Steve and his platonic soulmate Robin, or I wasn't getting Steve at all. I know how important she is to you. Don't you think she's important to me too?"

"I guess," Steve shrugged again, sniffling against Eddie's shirt.

"Well, how could she not be? She helped make sure you stayed safe before I was there to protect you. She knows exactly what to do when you have nightmares, taught me everything she could so I could be there for you. She sends me tapes she thinks I'll like when she sends you care packages. She was the second person I ever came out to! "

"Wait, I thought I was the second person you came out to."

"You were the third. She was a practice run when I saw her staring at the young nurse who checked my vitals the day I woke up. She's the one who told me I should tell you," Eddie nudged him away for a moment so he could look down at him. "I wouldn't be on this floor with you five years later if not for her. She's kinda important to me."

"I just hate that I get like this!" Steve finally said. "I hate that this happens every time. It's not fair to you."

"Love, it's okay. I know how to help." Eddie kissed his forehead. "Go ahead and wash your hands and go get back in bed. I'm gonna grab a book and we're gonna cuddle for a bit."

"But-"

"And then!" Eddie continued, louder. "We'll get pizza delivered for lunch even though we shouldn't. We'll call Robin. We'll take a bath. I'll wash your hair. I'll make us that roasted chicken stuff you like for dinner. It'll be perfect."

"Okay."

"And then-"

"There's more?" Eddie could hear the smirk in Steve's voice even though he'd buried his face against his neck again.

"Of course there's more." Eddie poked his side. "And then we're gonna start talking about moving closer to Boston so we can visit her more than three times a year."

"Eds, we can't afford Boston."

"I know. But we can afford New England if we find the right spots. We'll have her send us some ads for places for rent. I can transfer within the company. You're a teacher, you can work anywhere."

"You make it sound so easy."

"It is so easy. Making you happy is the easiest thing I'll ever do."

"But you have to be happy too."

"I will be. You wanna know why?"

"Why?"

"Because I'll still have you. And let's be honest, it's way more likely that one of the New England states is gonna let us get married before fucking Illinois."

Steve chuckled. "Married? Who said anything about getting married?"

"Oh, did I forget to mention? I planned on spending the rest of my life with you."

"I know that, goofball." Steve let out another genuine laugh. "I just didn't think you'd ever wanna actually get the law involved if they ever let us."

"Steven, I don't involve the law, the law involves me."

"I don't think that's how it works, babe," Steve kissed his neck before pulling away. "I think all that sounds nice though."

"Then hop to it, Harrington! We've got a bed to get back into."

Once they settled in their bed, Steve curled into Eddie's side while he opened the book they'd been reading for a week now, he looked up at Eddie with a soft smile.

"I love you a lot, you know?"

"I know, angel. I love you a lot more," Eddie replied, leaning down to kiss his lips softly.

They'd spend the day exactly as Eddie said they would.

They'd find a place only two hours from Robin and move less than a month later.

They'd get married as soon as it was legal for them to do it.

They rescued a dog.

They even adopted twins.

And every single time Steve wanted to see Robin, they packed up the car and went to visit her.

Because Steve had Eddie, and Eddie had Steve, but they both had Robin.

[pizzaqueen]

Inspired by @eddiemunsonsmum’s reblogs and tags on this post

615 words / rated T / established relationship

The sign behind the counter boasts the “World’s Largest Sundae” with a picture of what does look like a pretty damn big sundae beside it. Eddie grins, glancing back to Steve sitting at their booth, his heart skipping a silly little beat just from looking at Steve. He shakes himself, turns back to the waitress, and points. “One of those, please.”

He’s still grinning when he gets back to their booth, sliding into the seat across from Steve, vinyl creaking under denim as he settles in.

Immediately, Steve’s eyes narrow. “What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, no, I don’t believe you.”

Eddie shrugs and spreads his hands. “I guess that’s your problem.” But he can’t stop his lips from twitching, which does nothing to ease Steve’s obvious suspicion. And then, minutes later, the biggest sundae Eddie’s ever seen in his life arrives at their table.

The waitress has to hold it with two hands, gingerly setting it on their table with a thunk; she wipes her hands down and says, “Enjoy, boys,” and shuffles away.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve mutters, staring at the frozen dairy monstrosity.

Layer upon layer of ice-cream sits in a giant sundae dish, chocolate sauce drizzled over it, topped with a swirl of cream and a single bright red cherry. A silver spoon is sunk deep into one mound of ice-cream, glinting in the diner’s dim light.

Glee fills Eddie from head to toe, and his eyes widen. “That’s a lot of ice-cream.”

“You’re not going to eat all that, are you?” Steve sinks back into his seat, pointing a finger at Eddie. “Because you’re not getting back in my car if you do.”

“No. That’s way too much ice-cream for one person to eat.”

Steve crosses his arms over his chest. “Uh-huh.”

“I mean, no one could eat that without throwing up.” Eddie points over to the sign. “It is the world’s largest sundae. It’s probably humanly impossible.”

“Then why would they sell it?”

“Capitalism?” Eddie lifts his shoulders. “All I’m saying is, I guess I made a mistake, Steve. No one person alone could eat all of this.”

The tick in Steve’s jaw tells Eddie Steve knows exactly what Eddie’s doing. He rests his elbows on the table and leans over. “You wanna bet?”

Eddie grins, tongue between his teeth. “You know I do.”

“Okay,” Steve says, pushing up his sleeves, “you’re on,” and he picks up the spoon.

“Should I get a bucket just in case?”

Steve looks up. The fire in his eyes licks along Eddie’s skin. “I’m not throwing up,” he says, and digs in.

And Eddie watches as Steve neatly and methodically works his way through the whipped cream, then every single scoop of ice-cream spoonful by spoonful, and, finally, he sets down the spoon, picks up the cherry, and pulls it off the stem with his teeth. He sits back, chewing around a victorious grin, brows raising at Eddie. “Well?”

“Marry me,” Eddie says, more than a little breathless.

Steve snorts. “Sure.”

“I’m serious.” Eddie leans across the table, glances around, and lowers his voice: “I am going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington.”

Steve’s smile softens, and his eyes warm. He kicks Eddie under the table and says, “I know.”

Warmth flows through Eddie, and his heart kicks against his ribs, and he smiles back. “Hey,” he says, clearing his throat, “you owe me a sundae.”

Steve rolls his eyes and throws a balled-up napkin at Eddie, but he gets up, goes over to the counter, and, loud enough for Eddie to hear, says, “I’d like one of those world’s largest sundaes, please.”

Oh, yeah. That is Eddie’s future husband, right there.

[clemswinecorner-socials]

So Hvar so good [ah]

yourusername

Hvar, Croatia

liked by willne, arthurtv and others

yourusername special thanks to my brother for bringing a bit of home and some company to me during my time abroad xx tagged georgeclarkeey, arthurnfhill, chrismd10, arthurtv

posted june 13th, 2024

chrisfan omg chris went to visit her how cute!! chrismd10 ur welcome mate, i'll bring an English flag as well next time 😂😂 yourfriend okay cutie

yourusername imy already pls come back to visit again

randomfollower this dump absolutely slayed georgeclarkeey good times arthurnfhill come back to london pls dealing with him was much more bearable with you around

yourusername got a while left but will let you know when I'm around xx

... view more comments

yourusername

Hvar, Croatia

liked by arthurnfhill, willne and others

yourusername so hvar so good

posted september 3rd, 2024

yourcousin ?!?! a man ?!?!

yourusername just a friend for now :) yourcousin croatian guy or??? yourusername wait I'll text you about it chrismd10 how about you text me as well

yourbestfriend i miss you girl randomfollower this makes me want to live abroad chrismd10 ok if its good i guess you wont need a place to stay in London then 👍🏻

yourusername definitely not what i said?? i'm sure your roommates will let me in x

... view more comments

yourusername

Hvar, Croatia

liked by chrismd10, theburntchip and others

yourusername one last hvar post before i'm back home

posted october 10th, 2024

chrismd10 are you ever going to tell me about the lad or croatianfriend I'll miss you sm!!

yourusername our aperol dates will happen over facetime <333

yourbestfriend there goes my reason to book flights to the sun

yourusername bff you know i'd never say no to a flight to the sun this just means more holidays together

arthurnfhill london weather will dissapoint you

yourusername i know pls dont remind me

randomfollower y/n replying to everyone but chris i can't

... view more comments

yourusername

London, UK

liked by arthurtv, georgeclarkeey and others

yourusername back in london init tagged chrismd10, arthurnfhill, theburntchip

posted october 26th, 2024

chrismd10 ON MY FUCKING DINNER TABLE???? chrisfan are you staying with chris?? randomfriend does chris know about the lad yet?

yourusername yes chrismd10 no yourusername you do??? chrismd10 literally don't??? all I know is that there is one

yourbestfriend obsessed with you and your slow softlaunchhhh

yourusername i fear that as the relationship develops the insta develops with it🤭🤭🤭

... view more comments

yourusername

liked by georgeclarkeey, miniminter and others

yourusername bit more hvar bts bc i lowkey miss it tbh tagged arthurnfhill, arthurtv, chrismd10, calfreezy, willne

posted december 16th, 2024

randomfollower is that arthur in picture 3 or am I delusional willne fantastic vibes arthurnfhill me too let's go back

yourusername looking up flights as we speak

chrismd10 y/n.

yourusername i think we need to talk? chirsmd10 d'you reckon? yourusername we're in the living room 😃👍🏻 georgeclarkeey uh oh chrismd10 don't think you're getting away with everything george

croatiabestie what you only miss me lowkey?

yourusername no i miss you highkey its the sunburns i miss only lowkey

... view more comments

yourusername

Ireland

liked by arthurtv, calfreezy and others

yourusername new year new relationship era (hardlaunching) happy new years lads, im enjoying a short getaway trip with my london boy <3 tagged arthurnfhill

posted january 2nd, 2025

georgeclarkeey hes putting in work, got you onto the Guinness already arthurfan t swift reference iktr chrismd10 happy new year, happy for you lot yourbestfriend favs (pls visit me next) lisahull_hill looks lovely y/n, tell me all about it next week xx arthurnfhill don't have to miss the missus this trip! arthurnfhill love you loads ❤️

... view more comments

[here2bbtstrash]

it's sweet (explicit)

genre: a fluffy lil sickfic

pairing: taehyung x reader

summary: you forgot to call out sick from your dick appointment, but he stays anyway.

word count: 4.3k

contains: no smut just fluff????? new year new me 😎 but as this is fuckbuddies to maybe-lovers and there are certainly a few references in here to sex, because of who i am as a person, it's enough that i'm tagging it explicit anyway lmao. but this is all fluff! reader has the flu, tae is a sweet sweet boi and takes care of her, it's all a bit sappy~ 🤧

A/N: happy new year!!! and a very happy belated birthday to my capricorn prince 💜 this soft little idea got stuck in my brain and wouldn't let go, and i had a lot more fun writing it than expected. plus i feel like i only wrote tae as a menace in 2022 (sorry to tae 👹) so i had to right my wrongs with this one lmao. it was a nice interlude before i jump into LDOMLT ch11 (the final chapter 😭) - i hope you all enjoy and that your 2023s are off to a pleasant start!!!

read on AO3!

~*~

You genuinely enjoy being single.

With your last relationship officially in the trash, you’ve found yourself settled into a comfortable peace. There’s no man in your life to mess up your plans, to force you to have to compromise or share anything, to suck up your energy and domestic labor like some kind of emotional vampire. You can do what you want, whenever you want, and you have a reliable rotation of both sex toys and fuckbuddies to keep you physically satisfied when the need arises.

Being single, you have come to learn, is fucking great.

Except when you get sick.

A knock at your apartment door drags you out of your DayQuil-induced slumber. You move to sit up with a sniffle before letting yourself drop back into your veritable nest of blankets on the couch, struck with the immediate recollection: it’s just the food you ordered. You’d specifically put in a request that they leave it at the door, but maybe the delivery person is just being nice and letting you know it’s there.

Except then they knock again.

And ring the doorbell.

“Jesus,” you groan to yourself, aggressively enough that you’re nearly sent into a fresh coughing fit, but you manage to choke down the spasm in your lungs as you drag yourself to standing. You cross the short distance from your couch to the front door, sure you look like death warmed over, and swing the door open.

At first, you’re certain it’s the DayQuil fucking with you.

“Taehyung?”

The corner of his mouth pulls up as he blinks sweetly at you, expressive almond eyes peeking out beneath untidy dark hair— extra fluffy today, like he’s just washed it and waltzed out of the house without any styling. His clothes tell the same story, a plain gray hoodie and joggers, creased a little like he’d just pulled them off his bedroom floor, though everything looks fresh off the runway on him.

As your eyes trail down his frame, you take in the container of ramen you ordered, held easily in one of his large hands, his long fingers hooking over the side.

His presence is typically a welcome one, particularly on Friday nights like tonight, but those are circumstances where you tend to be a little more… put together. So why is he here tonight?

“When did you start working for D—”

The food delivery service name dies on your tongue as your thoughts finally catch up with your mouth. He’s here tonight because it’s Friday, and this is what you do on Fridays. He’s here because you didn’t cancel. You’d had the thought in a drowsy half-awake state between naps, then had promptly rolled over and pressed your face into the pillow, telling yourself you’d remember to text Taehyung when you woke up.

Which of course, you did not. And so here he is, having clearly intercepted your delivery. And, it now occurs to you, having to witness how absolutely godawful you must look in your stained sweatpants, your hair surely a mess from a day spent napping on the couch.

“Oh fuck,” you mutter, quickly crossing your arms over your baggy t-shirt, suddenly very aware of the fact that you’re not wearing a bra. Why that matters when you’re standing in front of a man who regularly leaves hickeys all over your tits, you’re not sure, but in this moment it somehow feels like it does.

“Tae,” you take a step back, trying to keep him out of your germ radius. “I’m so sorry, I forgot to text you. I’m super sick, I think it’s the flu. You should go.”

He frowns a little, his eyes jumping from you down to the takeout container in his hands. “This is like, barely warm.”

That makes you smile a little despite yourself. A very Taehyung greeting.

“Yeah, well.” You roll your eyes. “I pay twice as much so it can take an hour and be cold by the time it gets here. Makes sense, right?”

His dazzling smile at your sarcastic remark only heightens your own self-consciousness, and you quickly extend a hand for the container.

“Sorry to make you come all this way. Hopefully next week I’ll be back to normal.”

Taehyung nods, yet makes no move to hand over the soup he’s currently holding hostage. “You should rest. Let me heat it up for you.”

You can’t help but wonder what he expects to happen when he crosses the threshold, and that makes you heave a sigh, then quickly bury the cough that chases after it into the crook of your elbow.

Thankfully your voice doesn’t give out when you manage to answer him. “I’m serious, Tae. I’m not—” you pause, considering how to phrase it: desperate to be railed? “—you know, the way I usually am on Fridays. Nothing’s gonna happen tonight. Except maybe you’ll get sick.”

He shrugs, like there are worse things. “I get it. But you shouldn’t be alone.”

At least he’s been sufficiently warned, you think to yourself, and then you relent, leaving the front door of your apartment swung wide as you step back across the living room to promptly collapse onto the couch again. You bury your face in the blankets with a muffled groan as you hear Taehyung shut the door behind him, then make his way into the kitchen.

As is typical with any man that enters your kitchen, you expect to have to walk Taehyung step-by-step through how to do everything. But, to your surprise, he asks no questions: he seems to find a good-sized pot and figure out how to work the stove all on his own, and you can hear him humming softly to himself as he goes.

Truly a credit to the male species, you think to yourself with a bitter laugh.

You collapse back against the cushions, a little too aware of the fuckbuddy in your kitchen to be able to drift off to sleep entirely. Nevertheless, you still find yourself slipping into a haze, your eyes dropping shut just to snap open again at the tap of a bowl being set down on the coffee table in front of you.

Your eyes widen as you sit up and stare down at your ramen, only to find two halves of a soft-boiled egg staring back up at you. You’d ordered from your favorite place in the city, which is easily the best ramen you’ve had in your life, but you know those fuckers charge extra for an egg. Which is why your cheap ass never orders one.

But here one is. So that means…

Taehyung drops down onto the couch next to you before you can even finish compiling the thought in your brain, but he must be able to read the look on your face. “Oh, do you not like eggs?”

“I— no,” you answer quickly. “I mean yes. I mean, I like them, I just… Thank you.”

You glance up in time to see him shrug, his mouth twisting a little, like he’s suddenly made shy by his own kindness. “Gotta get your protein in,” he offers casually, and you laugh over the steam rising up from your bowl.

He keeps a tentative cushion’s distance away from you, but you can feel his eyes watching as you take your first sip of the rich, warm broth. While you slurp it down, you tell yourself not to get greedy with Taehyung’s time: you expect this will be it, that with his act of kindness done for the day, he’ll get to his feet and be on his way. As soon as your front door slams shut behind him, he’ll probably be pulling up his text messages with one of the many other options that must be available to him.

You try to ignore the way that thought makes your stomach twist, to just eat your damn soup and not think about it. It’s fine. It doesn’t matter.

But to your surprise, Taehyung leans forward and snatches the TV remote off your coffee table with a triumphant sigh before slumping back against the couch, like he’s settling in. “Do you wanna watch something?”

You shake your head as you take another sip before answering. “You really don’t have to stay, Tae. I can appreciate that I’m not a lot of fun to be around tonight. And obviously you didn’t come here to watch me eat ramen.”

Already starting to scroll through your streaming services, Taehyung runs his free hand through his hair with a knowing, slightly horny smile. “Depends on what you mean by eat ramen.”

You nearly choke on a noodle, but he’s otherwise distracted, mouth dropping open a little as he clicks into one of the options.

“Oh, I know what we can watch.”

When he pulls up A Charlie Brown Christmas and promptly presses play, you can’t help smirking. “Christmas? You’re, what, five days late?”

Taehyung’s mouth opens again, like he’s going to say something, and then he just smiles that same self-conscious smile. “Ah, I just like the music.”

His long fingers splay out in front of him, miming along to the opening melody while he adopts the faux-cool expression of a jazz pianist. You hide a giggle in another sip of broth, and he quickly shrugs the impression off, crossing his arms over his chest as if to keep his limbs under control.

“And it’s cute,” he adds, voice halfway between shy and sentimental. “The little tree.”

It occurs to you now that you’ve never seen Taehyung so… your brain can’t find the right word. He’s just different tonight.

You nod as you slurp up a strand of noodles, and you can’t deny that he’s right as the movie plays on. It’s been years since you’ve seen it, not since you were a kid, but it’s just as enjoyable now, somehow timeless. You find yourself smiling softly as you finish your meal and settle back against the couch, tugging the blanket up to your chin.

All at once, Taehyung jumps up, and you watch dumbfounded as he silently scoops up your dishes and disappears off to the kitchen. When you hear the tap switch on, your jaw drops in sheer disbelief, and you sit up again, peeking over the back of the couch to get a glimpse of him: he’s pulled on the dishwashing gloves you keep tucked next to the sink and is making short work of not just the bowl and the pot, but the takeout container too, and your various other sick-person dishes you’d regrettably let pile up. Humming to himself along with Vince Guaraldi, like it’s something he does every day.

Your head spins as you drop back down against the cushion. What is happening? Did you take too much cold medicine?

That thought only reverberates louder in your brain when he returns, still humming the last few notes of the song. This time he chooses to settle in right beside you on the couch, as if entirely unconcerned about the contagious virus running rampant in your body— he just pulls you into his side, one arm wrapped over your shoulders, fingertips casually starting to play with the ends of your hair. Like it’s that easy.

You glance up at him, shaking your head a little, and Taehyung looks down to meet your gaze. “What?”

“This is just…” An incredulous laugh cuts off the end of your sentence. It’s hard to believe you’re looking at the same person. This can’t be the man who wraps his hand around your throat as he spits into your mouth, who will keep you in his bed for hours until you’re crying from overstimulation, who fucks you so good you can hardly walk the next day.

“I didn’t expect you to be like this,” you admit, pairing the words with a finger driven gently into Taehyung’s ribs. He squirms a little. “You’re… sweet.”

Taehyung’s lips part, and then he pauses, clearly considering how exactly to answer you. His mouth turns up soft at the corners, hesitant, as if he’s embarrassed to say what comes next. And then he says it. “You didn’t seem like you wanted sweet.”

The words settle over you, offered quietly in the low, rich tones of his voice, and as you keep gazing up at him, it strikes you: he’s not wrong. If he’d pulled this cozy domestic housewife act on you any earlier, on a normal Friday, you would’ve sent him packing without hesitation.

That thought makes you a little sad.

You tuck back in against Taehyung’s side, trying to refocus on the TV screen as you snuggle in under the blanket. Pressed close like this, you can feel the sturdy thud of his heartbeat in his chest, at a rhythm not dissimilar to yours.

“Well, I won’t tell anyone,” you breathe, and you swear you can hear him smile.

His touch lingers as the last few minutes of the movie play on: slipping from the ends of your hair to trace over the fabric of your shirt, then sliding further up to dip beneath the collar of it. The talented fingers you’ve become well-acquainted with work their magic in a new way, pressing firm circles into the muscles of your shoulders, muscles you didn’t realize were pinched so tight until he starts to work them open.

“Fuck,” you murmur, shifting a little to allow him better access as he continues. “That feels so good.” You can’t quite help the laugh that flutters out after your words; it’s certainly not the first time he’s made you say them.

There’s a small huff of breath from Taehyung beside you, and then his hand moves up to cup the back of your neck and give a gentle squeeze. It’s a comforting motion, and just arousing enough to make you sigh a note, your eyes briefly dropping shut. When they flutter open again, you realize the movie has ended, that he’s looking down at you, a knowing smirk toying at his lips.

“Don’t start,” you warn, unable to keep your voice entirely serious. “I meant what I said, I’m tapped out for the night.”

Taehyung raises his palms in the air, as if to claim his innocence, and you find yourself instantly missing the heat of his hand on your skin. “All I was thinking is that I kinda want dessert. Too tapped out for that?”

“I’ll never say no to dessert,” you admit with a soft smile. “I think I have ice cream in the freezer.”

Something glints in Taehyung’s eyes at your words. All at once he untangles himself from you and, rather than standing up and walking the long way around like a normal human, chooses instead to vault himself over the back of the couch, as if to get your freezer as fast as possible. You tip back against the cushions, momentarily overcome with laughter, and thankfully, it doesn’t trigger a cough attack.

After a second, you cocoon the blanket around yourself, then get up to follow after him, dropping unceremoniously down onto one of the barstools tucked on the far side of your kitchen island.

Taehyung glances up, clearly surprised, then continues trying drawers until he finds the silverware and retrieves two spoons.

“Just want to keep you company,” you say by way of explanation as he hands you one, and you reach down to pry off the lid of the pint of chocolate ice cream he’s set down on the counter. It’s only as you glance up again that you realize he’s grabbed something else, too, and is continuing to rummage through your cupboards. “Wait, what are you doing?”

There’s an innocent look on Taehyung’s face as he rights himself, the handle of a pan clutched in one hand. “I found something when I was looking for the ice cream. It’s my favorite. And I thought it might make you feel better, too.”

“Uh huh,” you intone, though your mouth is already starting to tick up, endeared. “A completely selfless act, I’m sure.”

“Of course it is,” he answers with an over-exaggerated wink, flipping the pan cooly in his grip. You squint at the bag as he thuds it down on the counter beside him, then sets the pan on the stove and flips on the burner beneath it.

Hotteok. You’d completely forgotten you’d even picked the bag of frozen sweet pancakes up a few weeks ago, that you had purposefully tucked them into the back of your fridge for a particularly good— or bad— day.

“Chef Kim,” you ask, feigning the tone of a journalist conducting an important interview as you fish your phone out of the pocket of your sweatpants. “Can I interest you in some background music, or do you prefer to cook in absolute silence?”

Taehyung glances back over his shoulder at you, his grin nearly too big for his face. “How about Sinatra?”

You raise one eyebrow at the admittedly unexpected suggestion. “Frank or Nancy?”

He pauses for a moment, as if considering. “Either.”

It’s only a few taps, and then Come Fly With Me is floating out of your Bluetooth speaker, and Taehyung is singing along to himself as he drops a frozen disc onto the heated pan, occasionally turning back to deliver lines to you with an extended hand.

You roll your eyes as you drag your spoon through the top layer of softening ice cream, sucking it into your mouth in an attempt to hide the grin that’s spread over your face.

By the third song you find yourself humming along too, trying not to put too much strain on your still-weak throat. The kitchen has started to smell of sweet, toasted dough as Taehyung works diligently at the stove, and he finally flips the burner off before turning back to you, a plate in each hand and a thick pancake stacked atop each plate.

“Sous chef, will you please apply the ice cream?” he asks, eyes wide and blinking as he sets the dishes down.

Quickly playing along, you nod as you begin to scoop a healthy amount onto each plate. “Yes, chef!”

“And sous chef, do you, uh… have any chocolate sauce?”

You bite back a laugh as his roleplay falls apart as quickly as it began. “It’s in the fridge.”

Taehyung promptly turns and pulls the door open, eyes searching the shelves before he finally spots the dark brown bottle and lets out a triumphant hum. He nudges the fridge shut again with his hip before striding back toward you.

“Plating is key,” he muses. You answer with an appreciative nod and a giggle when he uncaps the sauce, then leans down close to the plates, feigning intense focus as he drizzles each dollop of ice cream with stripes of chocolate.

Once his artful design is complete, he steps back, his tongue toying at the corner of his mouth as he spins one plate to admire his handiwork.

“What do you think, chef?” you tease, and he nods once, decisive.

“It’s perfect.” He glances up, shooting you a grin that knocks the breath from your lungs, and you try to collect yourself as he nudges a plate toward you, encouraging you to take a bite.

You carve your spoon through the pastry, right down the middle where it’s stuffed full of sweet brown sugar syrup. The flaky layers pull apart at the impact, warm enough that you can see steam rising off of the golden dough. You pair a small piece of pancake with a wedge of ice cream on your spoon, then bring both into your mouth at once, and the contrasting mixtures linger on your tongue: hot and cold, sticky sugar chased by rich chocolate. It’s so good that you can’t help but make a soft, appreciative noise as you press your hand to your mouth and chew.

“Do you want to know something?” Taehyung’s voice pulls your attention back, and you look up at him.

“What?”

“Today’s my birthday.”

There’s a split second where you wonder if this is another imagined scenario, and then your eyes widen as you take in the look on his face and realize he’s entirely serious.

“Wait, Taehyung, really?”

He nods once, bringing a spoonful of ice cream to his lips.

“I-I had no idea,” you stammer, suddenly feeling like an asshole. His birthday, and he’s here waiting on you hand and foot, while you haven’t so much as said a word of felicitations. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, he’s waving away your apology with his spoon, then proceeding to answer around his bite of food. “It’s not like I expected you to know. I don’t really make a big deal of it.” He shrugs. “I tend to… I don't know. I get sort of melancholy this time of year. The holidays, my birthday. It’s a lot all at once. A lot of pressure. To be happy. To have everything figured out.”

Nodding slowly, you let his words fully wash over you before you respond. “I get that,” you finally murmur, working off another piece of hotteok. “Nobody ever talks about it, but I feel like birthdays are kinda weird as an adult. You have enough of them and it just starts to feel like a day, you know? Not special.”

“I usually find myself just hiding out, waiting for it to be over,” Taehyung admits.

You take a second to think back. “Yeah. I didn’t even do anything on my birthday this year.” A self-pitying laugh rises up before you can stop it. “Honestly, this whole year was such a flop. I’m glad it’s nearly done.”

Taehyung makes a face like he can’t disagree. “Hey, sometimes that’s life.” He pauses, brow furrowing slightly, then reaches a palm across the table. “Can I play a song?”

“Go ahead,” you offer, pushing your phone into his hand. You scrape your spoon along your dwindling dessert, and haven’t even managed to bring the assembled bite to your mouth before the music changes— from one Frank Sinatra song to another, this one with a driving blues rhythm.

Taehyung is already on his feet, hips starting to sway. “Ah, come on. You have to dance with me.”

He’s closed the distance between you before you can even protest, his hands smoothing across the blanket still wrapped over your shoulders.

“Let me take your coat, ma’am.”

You shift off the stool and onto your feet with a smile as he unwraps the blanket from around you and tosses it toward the back of the couch, missing by at least a foot.

“Why thank you,” you tease, feigning some kind of Transatlantic lilt to your voice that makes him really laugh. “Such a gentleman.”

Taehyung turns to face you again, and then you feel his large hand pressing to the small of your back, warm even through the fabric of your shirt, and your heart stutters a little. You take his other hand in yours and let him lead, let him pull you all the way in until you can turn your head and press your cheek to the firm plane of his chest.

Frank Sinatra croons on about how you can’t let life get you down, and suddenly there’s a weight settling in the pit of your stomach.

“I feel bad, Taehyung,” you admit, and when you glance up at him, he’s looking right back down at you. “That you’re here with me tonight.”

“Why?” he asks, like he really doesn’t know.

“Because,” you shake your head. “I don’t know. There’s a million better places you could be. I can’t even give you birthday sex.”

“I wouldn’t have stayed if I didn’t want to,” he answers simply, then leans back, guiding you under his arm for a spin.

A little giggle bubbles up in your chest, catches on the first syllable of your reply as you twirl. “A-are you sure?”

Taehyung nods, thoughtful, when you come back to center again. “This is a good reminder that… I like taking care of people. It’s been a while since anyone’s let me.” The hand holding yours gives a gentle squeeze, and you can’t help but squeeze back.

“Well, thank you for taking care of me,” you answer softly. “You did a good job. Pretty sure I’m on the mend already.” You blink up at him through your lashes, and the way his eyes are fixed on you makes your heart squeeze, too.

It’s nearly overwhelming, taking him in like this, close enough that you can see every stray beauty mark kissed over his handsome features. Fluffy-haired, big-dicked Kim Taehyung— who would’ve thought?

Taehyung’s adam’s apple jerks in his throat as he swallows, and you feel a sudden rush of heat all over, one you don’t quite think you can blame on a fever. It hardly even occurs to you that the two of you have come to a complete standstill now, barefoot in the middle of your kitchen, Taehyung’s palm pressed to your back, the fingers of your joined hands now shifting to lace together.

“Taehyung,” you’re breathing his name before you even realize it. “Would you… want to stay here tonight? Like, sleep together, literally?”

The smile that flashes over his face is nothing short of brilliant. “Yeah, okay.”

Your voice dips a little lower, teasing, as you smile back. “I really do think I’m feeling better, so. Maybe in the morning I can take care of you, too.”

Taehyung’s fingers brush the length of your jaw, then reach up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as you continue.

“I’ve got this spray that makes my throat totally numb, so.”

He pauses, his mouth so close to yours that you can feel his breath ghosting over your skin, but he can’t quite keep a straight face. “Fuck, why is that so sexy?”

You’re laughing against his lips when he kisses you.

[tin-wufborf]

Tin's Favorite Sterek Fics (Part 2)

Hello again! Welcome to the second installment of me sharing with you a mere fraction of the too-many Sterek fics I have read and bookmarked on AO3!

Before we get to the list, I just wanted to say thank you all for liking and sharing the last post. I'm not someone who comments that often on fics (I don't do things that make me anxious, as a rule, and commenting on fics makes me unreasonably anxious), so I want to give back to these authors outside of my kudos and bookmarks. This is how I'm doing that. So thanks for noticing, and I hope you enjoy the fics! I have loved them dearly for a while now.

Alright, enough from me.

Smooches, darlings!

List and links to previous/next part(s) below the cut.

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DISCLAIMER: This is me warning you all that some of the fics I've included in this list may cover explicit, dark, and/or "taboo" subject matters. I cannot express enough how little I care what anyone thinks about any of that; all I want is for you to use caution when reading anything I've listed here and to please review and heed whatever tags the authors have provided in order to keep yourselves safe. Your experience from this point on is your own responsibility, not mine and not the authors'.

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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19

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Aftereffects by Dira Sudis (dsudis) (G | 1/1 | 1,473)

Stiles lives with the aftereffects.

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Shadowplay by Medie (T | 1/1 | 1,576)

Since the day of his birth, the shadows have loved him.

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It's a Jeep Thing by riventhorn (T | 1/1 | 2,629)

On the day she arrived at the Stilinski home, the Sheriff stayed in the driver’s seat for twenty minutes, fingers kneading her steering wheel anxiously. He had been muttering to himself the entire way back from the lot, all variations on: Am I insane? How can I give this to him? He’s going to kill someone. He’s going to kill himself.

Stiles's Jeep's pov on werewolves, hyperactive teen boys, and Derek Hale.

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After All by Dira Sudis (dsudis) (T | 1/1 | 2,954)

Being a magical fairy-gift whose whole existence is a demonstration of the supernatural amazingness of your fathers' love story ought to be a good thing.

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Cuckoo by herlovewasajoke (T | 1/1 | 3,790)

Deaton uncovers a secret. What he does with it could destroy everything Stiles has built.

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To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar by FaeryQueen07 (E | 1/1 | 5,241)

It’s the summer before senior year and Stiles is doing just fine. Right up until he gets shitfaced and tells a room full of drag queens that he’s attracted to an alpha werewolf and that oh, yeah, he’s been wondering about whether or not they have knots. It all goes downhill from there, but in a good way.

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No place for no hero by ellievolia (M | 1/1 | 5,370)

But now, as he looks at Derek’s face, the storm lurking right underneath his eyelashes, the frown firmly back in place on his features, the Sheriff can’t help but hope that he will do something Sheriff Stilinski himself can’t do, nor ask for Derek to do. They nod at each other over Stiles’ hospital bed, and Sheriff Stilinski stands up.

Warning for graphic depiction of a mugging that degenerates into a stabbing.

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There's A Wolf-Shaped Float In This Parade by concernedlily (G | 3/3 | 7,524)

Two ways Sheriff Stilinski finds out and one he doesn't.

(Non-graphic references to past underage.)

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Your Face is Like a Melody (It Won't Leave My Head) by samshhh (T | 1/1 | 8,386)

Originally for a prompt on the kink meme:

"Since age three, Stiles has been dreaming of Derek. When he was younger, he would always babble about Derek and draw pictures of them together, etc. but everyone just assumed that Derek was his imaginary friend. Stiles himself didn't realize that Derek was a real person until he heard about the Hale fire but by that time, Derek and Laura had moved to New York. "

But it somehow mutated into a 8400 word behemoth featuring actual psychic Stiles Stilinski, soul bonding and wolfy mates.

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Solstice Alpha by Dira Sudis (dsudis) (E | 1/1 | 11,152)

The traditional Hale pack solstice party gets resurrected by the new and improved-from-ten-months-ago Hale pack.

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The Quiet Between Our Words by mytimehaspassed (M | 1/1 | 12,500)

Laura had told him that she would be right back.

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Hear No Evil, See No Evil, Speak No Evil by lemyh (T | 1/1 | 12,830)

When Stiles Stilinski signed up for his social psychology class, he wasn't sure what he expected from it. He definitely didn't expect the professor, a month in, to tell them they'd be spending the next three weeks actually living with certain handicaps.

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Hell is Other People series by tsukinofaerii (2 works | T-E | 15,937)

1. 9/10ths of the Law (T | 1/1 | 6,875) Stiles discovers the hazards of growing up a real boy when, at heart, he's not a real boy at all. 2. Something that Finds You (E | 1/1 | 9,062) Stiles always smelled like sulfur. After Derek finds out the truth, he and Stiles get closer than they'd ever planned.

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last night's dress (tiptoe out of this mess) by hito (M | 1/1 | 16,730)

Written for a prompt on the kinkmeme.

TFLN: My dad just asked me if my booty call guy that comes over at 3am and leaves at 6 would like to stay for Sunday brunch next week. You in?

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Wanderlust by Cheshyr (G | 8/8 | 18,147)

Stiles needs to move, to leave, and after graduation he has every intention to do just that. Unless his pack can convince him otherwise.

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To Build A House by theredhoodie (M | 1/1 | 19,590)

It's senior year and everything is fine. Except that it isn't, but it will be. Or that's what Stiles keeps telling himself. And there's only one person who can make sure that everything really will be fine.

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How To Be a Werewolf (And Other Extreme Sports) by gayfantasticfour (foxxing) (M | 7/7 | 23,971)

Derek decides that Stiles needs to be... trained. As much as Stiles can be trained. So Derek, with help from The Wolf Pack, teaches him how to be a werewolf without, you know, actually being a werewolf. Hijinks (of the emotional kind and otherwise) ensue.

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Culpa by ACR (M | 8/8 | 30,728)

Things for Stiles are really complicated. There’s a Harpy on the loose, his friendship with Scott is distant, and he might have feelings for Derek Hale. Oh, and also, he’s being possessed by a Demon.

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DILF by twentysomething (E | 1/1 | 30,871)

"Today is Scott's first day of kindergarten and Derek is terrified."

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The Boy and the Beast by Dira Sudis (dsudis) (M | 7/7 | 116,686)

In which events in Beacon Hills go rather differently from the start, and a Beauty and the Beast (ish) story ensues. (Scott is not a teacup and no one sings about their feelings.)

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[anincompletelist]

[ vol i | vol ii | vol iii | fic rec fridays ]

hi all! :D I have slowly but steadily been knocking things off of my tbr list, a few classics and a few newer fics, and they've been AMAZING! as per usual I wanted to share before the list gets too long for next time!

as always, please remember to leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed the fic or show support in other ways, and be kind! mind the tags and if you come across something you dislike, please kindly (and quietly) move on.

happy new year and happy reading y'all! <3

Have you ever been alone in a crowded room? | @hgejfmw-hgejhsf | T+ | 5k

When the Legendary Balls-Out Bananas White House Trio New Year's Eve Party is interrupted by a security threat, Henry, Pez, Nora, June, and Alex find themselves locked in the White House library for their own protection with nothing but time, a few bottles of champagne, and some lighthearted conversation, until a single question threatens to change everything for Henry.

(+ read their first au fic here ahh!)

muscle memory | @dumbpeachjuice | E | 30k

It's been ten years since Alex was in London to stage a PR friendship with Henry after ruining the royal wedding. It's also been ten years since Alex dropped to his knees in front of Henry in a Kensington Palace kitchen. But now Henry's in the Hamptons for the summer, and who should he bump into? None other than Alex Claremont-Diaz, who happens to be working in New York all summer long.

You Are the Wave I Could Never Tame | bleedingballroomfloor | E | 12k

That should be it. Henry is doing his job; the pool is getting cleaned, and Alex shouldn’t think anything more of it. Then why does he feel the slightest bit of disappointment when he walks back to the pool house and Henry isn’t there? Or, the pool boy Henry AU that I couldn't stop thinking about until I wrote it.

if evil, why so cute? | @everwitch-magiks | E | 5k

Alex’s cat hates Alex, but loves Henry, the Bookstagram influencer who’s on vacation in Alex’s quiet seaside town. And while Alex is pretty salty about his grumpy cat’s inexplicable affection for a complete stranger, he must admit he can see the appeal; Henry is fucking gorgeous. It’s why Alex follows him on Instagram in the first place. It's just, Alex had never thought he’d be officially introduced to Henry by his own goddamn cat. Or: Henry takes a two-week vacation to a seaside cabin with the intent to read a lot of books. Instead, he has a lot of sex.

Just like that | @myheartalivewrites | E | 10k

When Henry comes home from a date frustrated by the guy’s lack of expertise, Alex starts having thoughts. And then, because he’s Alex, he sticks his big foot in his even bigger mouth.

(@myheartalivewrites listen I fell down a rabbit hole ok and if I could rec your entire ao3 here I would -- OH WAIT I CAN)

In His Wildest Dreams | @myheartalivewrites | E | 11k

Set in and around the Henry bonus chapter, this is a story about Henry and Alex’s hectic schedules, family appearances etc. pulling them apart, and about what starts to happen between them, in the quiet of night: their sleeping bodies turning to each other, finding their sweet spots and opening up. And Alex and Henry learning a lot about each other in the process

Be Worthy Love, and Love Will Come | @sparklepocalypse | E | 30k

"For Christmas this year, all I would like is a best friend who doesn’t mind too much that I’m a prince. Most of my classmates poke fun because of who I am, or treat me like I’m too special to be their friend. I want a best friend who knows me as much as my family does and still likes me. I know that you can’t wrap a best friend up in a box and put it under the tree, but you’re magic so you know the best way to bring one." (Movieverse canon divergence; Prince Henry, age 8, writes to Father Christmas wishing for a best friend. A few weeks later, he finds one.)

A Picture on Your Corkboard | bleedingballroomfloor | M | 23k

It happens on a random morning in May when Alex, age fourteen, pads into the kitchen to greet his mother and steal a waffle from June's plate and sees a man sitting at their breakfast counter, reading a newspaper, a cup of coffee raised to his lips. Like he belongs. Like it's the most natural thing in the world. June doesn't seem to give the man a second thought. She merely flicks Alex on the forehead and takes back the waffle. Ellen isn't worrying, either. In fact, she's talking to him. Asking what his schedule is like. Making plans for dinner. Alex has never seen this man before in his life.

I want to mark my skin (it is paper thin) | @violetbaudelaire-quagmire | M | 10k

To: alex@biconicink.com From: hjfox@rocketmail.co.uk Subj: Tattoo Reference Attached: 1 file (orionsketch.jpg) Hello, Attached you’ll find a line art drawing of the constellation Orion. The shoulder blade is the intended location. Best, H.J. Fox [OR: It's a Tattoo Shop AU!]

(Dil)Do It Yourself | @happiness-of-the-pursuit | E | 16k

“Listen,” Nora starts, turning her body once more so that she’s sitting sideways in the chair with her legs thrown across the armrest. “I did the math. There’s a 79% chance you’re gonna become a slut to the power of the prostate, and while we’re not dating anymore, it’s my duty as your fellow slutty bisexual to get this party started.” Or, when Nora drags Alex to a holiday dildo workshop, he doesn’t expect to find someone to use it with.

just a figure of speech | @congee4lunch | E | 17k

“Like I said: Alphas really don’t know how to fuck.” “And like I said,” Alex sets down his mug and steps closer to Henry. “I can fuck and I know how to fuck you so well, you’ll see stars, baby.” [henry, an omega, hasn’t had good sex in a long time. as his alpha roommate and friend, alex can help with that. in a totally platonic bro way, of course]

+

saving some for next rec, I'll see you all then! enjoy, and remember to show support if you did! <3

xx

[romana-after-dark]

Rooms on Fire: Losing My Religion

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader

Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader

Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader

Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual

Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist

Spotify playlist

Summery: Madonna has to make a stand.

Warnings and Content:

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence. Covert incest, massive mommy issues, sexual abuse all around, past grooming by parental figure. no CSA but the victim isn't much older. some Bates Motel type shit. I cannot properly warn you for everything, without just telling the story but consider this a major warning that there are dark dark themes. No one involved here is morally clean, and who you perceive as the good guy cannot be relied on. Don't come to my story and say im romanticizing these things until at least the story ends.

Extra warnings for chapter: Pretty standard tbh

3.6k words

A/N Please know tags have been spotty so check and make sure you're caught up!

"That's me in the corner That's me in the spot-light Losing my religion Trying to keep up with you And I don't know if I can do it Oh no I've said too much I haven't said enough I thought that I heard you laughing I thought that I heard you sing I think I thought I saw you try." ~Losing my Religion, R.E.M

“Will, take her.” Santiago orders Will, and the stronger man tries to take you away from where you cling to Frankie.

Frankie, however, steps away. “No! You aren’t taking her from me!” He looks back and forth between Will, Ben, and Santi. Through the silence, they can all here Iris wailing over Rey’s body in the kitchen. “You’re all fucking insane! None of you get her!”

Ben scoffs. “She doesn’t belong to you, Frank.”

“YES SHE DOES! She’s my WIFE!”

Will steps forward, taking a hand on your leg assertively, looking Frankie in the eyes. His dominance quells the room. “She’s my wife too, Frankie. Let me take her.” In a lower voice, he adds just to Frankie. “It’s gonna be easier if you just go, you know that. I’ll take care of her. I promise.”

Frankie glances at Santi, rage bubbling in him. Will was right. “Sent someone to get Rey’s body, help Iris move him. She’s… she’s not gonna wanna leave his body. We are not making her clean up his blood the way she did Jonah’s, got it?” Francisco rarely spoke this firmly… but he cared about Iris and he wanted Rey’s body respected.

“I will, I promise.” Frankie watched as you left the room in Will’s arms, crying into his chest.

*

Francisco was dragged down the halls, Ben trailing after then after being told to follow, Santi yanking along Frankie’s still-soar arm.

“Slow down! Ow!”

“Shut the fuck up!” When they got to Frankie’s bedroom, Santi told Ben to stay outside until he was called. When the door closed, he delivered a crisp slap across Frankie’s face.

“Shit!” Frankie cried, holding his face and tasting blood.

Grabbing his shirt, Santi shoves Frankie against the door, making sure Ben hears every Santi is doing to Frankie that he can’t stop. 

“Don’t you EVER disrespect me like that again!” He screams, slapping Frankie again and making his head lul to the side. “I AM YOUR GOD!”

Frankie shoves him back. “YOU’RE MY BROTHER! This whole thing is FUCKED Santi!”

Santi went for Frankie’s shirt, tearing at the fabric and buttons as Frankie tried to fight him off. There was a scuffle, slaps to faces and arms and chest before his shirt was pulled off him, showing the scars on Frankie’s arms. Scars that matched Santi’s. Neatly in a line, they were scabbed and new, bruising still around the wounds, each an inch or two long. Santiago pressed their arms together. 

“Blood brothers, Frank. Blood brothers. You were made for me, I was made for you, you know that, don’t you?”

Frankie winces at the memory, how Santiago laid him down with a knife, cut into their skin together until they bled. On a bed of blood they fucked, sealing their commitment to each other, or that’s what Santi thought the ritual meant. The whole time, Frankie tried to imagine it was Ben.

Santi didn’t let go of his arm, fingers tracing up and down the scarred skin, picking at a scab until it bled. “You’re mine, Frank. Certainly not Madonna’s. She’s here to have our child. And you’re not Ben’s either.”

His eyes went wide at that, going into defense. Deny, deny, deny, or Ben would be dead.

“Santi, no, we’re not- AH!” Santiago ripped the scab, causing blood to spill out.

“Don’t lie to me! I know you fuck him behind my back. Is that why you care so much about Saha? You fucking him too, just like Madonna?”

Bent over in pain holding his arms, Frankie looks up at Santi in anguish, tears in his eyes as he screams. “HE WAS MY FRIEND! HE WAS HERS! FOR FUCK SAKE SANTIAGO NOT EVERYTHING IS ABOUT SEX!” He stood up straight, speaking strong even as he cried. “He loved Iris! He loved Iris only and Ben killed him! That girl lost her father and now is sobbing because of her lover's dead body!”

Santiago scoffs. “That’s your fucking boy toy, not mine. I don’t control Ben.”

“That’s the problem! You and Beatriz indulged his every whim, Will protected him from any consequence and now he’s a spoiled slut!”

“And what do you think you are? You live in comfort, in excess even, you get fucked by me, Ben, Will, even sliding your cock into Madonna’s little cunt for hours in those meadows because I allow it! You’re just a cockdumb, petulant child who's mad because the world isn’t perfect! You’re no better.”

Frankie locked his jaw, staring hard. “Yes, I am.”

When Santi closed in on him, Frankie braced for impact. Instead, when their bodies were crowded together, Santi simply opened the door. Ben sat there ont he floor, legs pulled up to his chest like a child whose parents were fighting, looking up at the door with wide blue eyes.

“You hear all that, Benny?”

Ben blinked, “Yeah.” He stands up, his long legs wobbly.

“Ben…” Frankie wanted to say he didn’t mean it, they were all fucked… but Rey’s blood still covered him. It was an odd sight on a boy who looked so young and innocent when he really wanted too. Or needed to.

Terror filled him, afraid Santi was going to hurt Benny, and despite just watching him kill a man in cold blood Frankie felt the need to protect him. He looked so much like that young underweight half-frozen boy in Will’s arms so many years ago. What happened to them all?

Instead of harming him, Santi beconned him in the room and kissed him so tenderly, softness Frankie hasn’t seen it since they were teens promising to be different from Beatriz. 

Ben made no effort to rebuff. He was taken aback at first of course, this was not the response they were expecting from him. He locked eyes with Frankie as Santi deepened the kiss, and narrows his eyes at his lover. Ben does not take kindly to being insulted. Arms snake around Santi’s middle, Ben grinding his cock against Santi’s stomach, moaning into his mouth. Frankie heard drops of blood drip from his arm into the wood floor. He needed to wrap it up. Instead, Santi told Frankie to get in the chair. 

*

It took everything in Santi to not watch Frankie watching them. To not see his face as he slid inside Ben’s asshole, to not see how much it pissed him off when he made the younger man moan as he sucked on a nipple. He didn’t need to look, however, because he knew, he knew just how badly it was angering Frankie, how it hurt him. Santi fucked Ben the way he knew Frankie liked, slow and tender, lots of kisses. He knew Frankie longed for those soft days so long ago, teenagers sneaking around, falling in love in closets and up in trees. Before Madonna came and fucked everything up.

That’s why they were made for each other. Raised together, brothers, as close and two people could get. From the craddle to the grave, Francisco Morales belonged to him. They were meant to be, their bodies were created by Beatriz to fit together, to bring each other pleasure. Frankie was his eve, the mother, the god of nature and fertility and-WHY COULDNT HE GET PREGNANT?!??!? None of this would have happened if Mother God had allowed them this, if he could fill his lover with his hot seed and create the savior Santiago couldn’t be. They could birth the savior together, Mary and Joseph, Frankie as the Madonna instead of that cunt causing all the problems. 

Santi was sure not to harm Ben, opening him up slowly as the boy moaned like a slut with his asshole clenching on Santi’s tongue, fingers poking their way inside in contrast to the way he liked to ram into Frankies cunt. 

Ben was so tender, so sensitive, his cockhead beat red and slick with precum as Santi slid his thumb around it. He repeatedly pulled back the skin, making Ben moan in wonton madness. He gave Ben the gentle love making he knew his Frank desired, the kind of soft touches Santi hadn’t been giving lately. No, ever since Madonna came he was ravenous. He didn’t like watching anyone inside Frankie, making exceptions on occasion for Will and Ben because he thought he could trust them.

Despite not being threatened or even ordered to watch, when Santiago turned to the chair he saw Frankie watching. santi knew Frankie liked to be watched, liked to be heard, so he wondered how being put as the watcher affected him. Frankie’s face was set into a hard glare, eyes red and burning with tears and his knuckles going white with clenched fists.

Still, his cock was hard in his pants.

*

You cried. And cried. And cried. 

Hysterics paused only long enough for Will to occasionally get some water in you as he held you close. It had been hours at this point, unsure what is happening to Francisco, what was happening to Iris, what would happen to Rey’s body.

Dead. He was dead. Your best friend was dead, Jonah was dead and Iris hated you. Everything was over now. You hold your stomach, realizing how disconnected you were from this baby in you. At month 7, there was a whole child and yet you felt like… like it was in you, not a part of you. There, not connected. You loved the baby, of course you did, you were its mom but… why didn’t you feel like it? Lately, you’d felt like you were just… here to do a job.

Eventually you calmed down, exhausted from the hysterics, and Will held you close to his chest. He calmed you down slowly, gentle hands brushing over your body. You could not fathom how the hands you’ve felt healing your body were the same as the fist that beat Jonah to death.

“Will?” You ask, listening to the beat of his heart. It was strong.

“Yes, my Madonna?”

“What happens now?” You couldn’t tell if he was pausing to think or in confusion, so you elaborate. “Jonah is dead. Rey is dead. I can never see Santi and Ben the same again-”

He sat up a bit to look at you. “You forgave Santi?”

Was Will really this naive? Really? Santiago had violently raped you, allowed your pregnant body to be burned and Will thought you forgave him? You and your baby could have died, and he thought you forgave him? Will was who you trusted. No matter what happened, you’d always trusted your Will, your smart handsome brave husband, your God of War and Medicine, your protection and your healing. 

You can hear Jonah’s voice in your head, begging you to have a shred of survival instinct, to trust your gut.

For the first time, you lie to him.

“I did…” You fib, just a little. “It’s just been a lot lately and… he did something bad. I just can’t forget all of that.”

He nods in understanding. “I get it…  I do.” His fingertips trail over your scarred skin. “To answer your question… I don’t know. I really don’t but… we’re married, we all love you and I know, I know Ben messed up today…”

Messed up? Ben killed your Rey, an innocent man. Your friend. Frankie’s friend. Dead and cut up on the kitchen floor where Iris, for all you know, is still sobbing.

You feel the walls coming up around Will. 

He continues. “But we’ll find a way to move on as a family.”

You were not a family with these people.

“Yeah, yeah okay.” 

*

Iris fell asleep on the floor, durk curls caking in blood as she rested on her lover's stabbed-open chest. It didn't matter. She wasn’t going to get up.

They won. Those fuckers won.

Santiago had beaten her into submission, cutting up parts of her she’d never had the chance to show Reyansh.

Ben raped her for years and years and year and Iris managed to hold on because she had Reyansh and to a certain extent Jonah. Jonah was disappointing, Jonah’s shortcomings were clear and she would never forgive what he tried to do to that poor girl, whatever it was, but the day he died she lost one more person.

But Iris wouldn’t clean up Reyansh’s blood the way she had to Jonah’s. She’d die here in his arms. If Ben wanted to touch her again, he could fuck her dead, rotting corpse. Iris doubted Ben would let anything as simple as death set her free.

*

When she woke up, she was being pulled away from Rey’s dead body. Iris screamed, but that didn’t matter to anyone anymore. Another few guards start pulling Rey’s body away, congealed blood dragging out from under him, and that’s when Iris started fighting. They couldn’t take him. They couldn’t have him. He was hers.

“I’m sorry.” The guard behind her said. Scott, a nice, naive young man. Many guards were loyal to Santi above all else, but Will held the most control. Still, Rey was well liked. With the exception of those who were hardcore true believers amongst the guard who knew Santi’s recent turn on Reyansh, Iris had no doubt they were, actually sorry. It didn’t change the fact she was being separated from her lover even in death.

*

“Just do what he says” Frankie tells Iris, hands planted firmly on her shoulders, eyes intently boring into hers. “He’s gonna fucking kill me for coming down here but Iris, you have to just do it.”

Her eyes burned with tears of anger as she stood near the door to the backyard, underneath the balcony. “What’s happening, Frankie.”

He closed his eyes a moment as he heard the door unlocking. “I can’t lose you too, Iris. Please. I need you with me. I don’t have Jonah, I don’t have Rey-”

“I don’t either!” Iris spat. “What makes you think I want to live after watching that?” It had been hours since she watched her rapist stab her Rey to death, powerless as Frankie held her back. Ben would have killed her too. Should have. 

“I need help! I can’t keep her alive alone, Iris! We have to be a team, for each other, for Madonna, for our ch-”

The door opened, Will bringing Madonna down with a guard. You looked awful. He hadn’t seen you since Will took you away, dealing with Santi’s shit… Blood was still on your nightgown.

“Madonna…” Frankie was no longer pleaded with Iris, went to hug his wife. Will instructed the guard not to harm Madonna in the slightest, and Iris appreciated Frankie’s addendum not to hurt her either, but Iris knew she was a second thought.

“Francisco, what’s happening?” Your hands pressed to his chest, looking up at him. 

Frankie told you the same thing he told her, to just do as we’re told and it would be okay. Iris had a sick, sick feeling. “Trust me.” He said, hugging her. He looked at Iris. “Please.” Then made his exit with Will. Iris heard crowds outside, and wondered what sick, perverted show Santi was going to make you do now? Would he make you hurt her? That was fine by Iris. 

You turned to her, those scared eyes chipping away at the ice in her heart. Iris knew you didn’t mean to get Rey killed, and blaming you for Jonah’s death was unfair and cruel… but she needed to be angry. 

“Iris…” You whimper, wet eyes trickling tears down your pretty face. You held your stomach in fear.

When the door opens, you and Iris are quickly ushered out into the courtyard where hundreds of people looked on. Taking in the scene, Iris heard your heavy breathing. What she didn’t need, was you having a panic attack… When she turned to see your horror stricken face, Iris couldn’t help feel that ice melt a little more. Fuck, you were young. 23, just a child. You deserved better. Iris took your hand.

But you were looking past her. “Iris…” You said with wide eyes. Iris turned around.

On the courtyard, Rey’s body was tied to an X on top of a funeral pyre, strung up and limp and lifeless. She felt sick to her stomach, turning up towards where the four wanna be gods sat upon their ivory tower, daring to look upon her love. She couldn’t read their expressions, but watched as someone lit the pyre. Reyansh’s body went up in flames.

Santiago spoke not to them, but to the crowd. “Reyash Saha is guilty of high treason! As is custom, those closest must dance as he burns. Not even the Madonna is above the will of Divine Mother.”

He emphasized those last words, Iris knew, to put you in your place. You weren’t a goddess to him, you weren’t his mommy dearest. You were a womb.

The music started up.

“DAAAANCE!!!!” He screamed down to you both, and as the smell of burnt flesh filled the yard, you began to dance. It was scared, it was erratic, it was for your life and the life of your child. Iris understood that fear. But she wasn’t going to dance. It’s been a while since the last public burning, 2 years, she thinks, but she’d been at plenty, danced in several. This is not how it was done.

Firstly, this was supposed to be execution. You didn’t burn dead bodies. If a traitor was dead already, the close family and friends were questioned but there was no grand show.

If this were a proper burning, there was a ceremony, there were prayers to Divine Mother, chants.

The yard would be filled with everyone the traitor knew. Most of the guardsmen would be here for Reyansh, the house laborers, townsfolk… not just trying to terrifying to women. If the Madonna isn’t above it, Francisco shouldn’t be either.

No, this was just a show for the girl.

“Iris!” You grab onto her. “You need to dance!” Your words were broken and desperte, but Iris shrugged you off. “PLEASE!” You sob, grabbing her hands to force her but Iris shoved you back.

“I WON”T BE MADE TO DANCE AS MY HUSBAND BURNS!”

“But-” You reach for her, but she slaps your hand away. If the guard cared about the abuse of the Madonna, they didn’t care. The music was too loud to hear even shouting.

“Tell me, is there anything in the world that could convince you to dance as Frankie burned?” The image horrified you, but you remained resolute.

“My baby! Please I know you can’t understand but I need you, I can’t lose anyone else- IRIS PLEASE JUST DANCE!” You scream, pulling on her.

Iris grabbed your shoulders, stopping you. “I’m pregnant too.”

You were frozen in stunned silence. “You… Rey…”

But Iris shakes her head. “I never had sex with him. Ben fucked everyone under the sun and I didn’t wanna chance giving him anything… But I told him, I broke down and told him… he’d figured it out.” Iris feels the tears coming, but forces them down. Don’t let them see you cry. Hadn’t she told you that before? “Rey said… said he’d raise it as his own. That he’d take me away and now he’s dead. And those men up there-” She pointed to the balcony. “Are why. I won’t tell you what to do, because you have your own child to think of, you are much further along, but me?” She pointed to her chest covered in Rey’s blood. “I refuse to give them anymore satisfaction. They cannot take my dignity. I won’t let them.”

*

Santiago watched from the balcony, smug as Madonna started dancing. Jesus she was pathetic. He expected Iris to not dance, giving him a reason to kill the brat finally. Maybe he’d take her for a little spin to see what Benny was so gunho about. But Madonna? Weak little thing like that had been trying to play big girl recently, acting tough, testing her boundaries like a fucking teenager and thinking her status protected her. It didn’t. But look at her now, dancing around as her best and probably only friend burned, just like she did, just like her paintings, just like her dad. 

It was amusing watching you try to save Iris. Your empathy was something that he was attracted to. You were sweet, he liked watching you paint. If you had behaved, he could have lived a whole life with you here with him, his Madonna, raising the savior for his roll… But no, you had to have a temper tantrum. You had to whore around as if 4 cocks weren’t enough. And yet, when it came time to really be brave…. You were like a little puppet on a string and he could toy with you as much as he-

What were you doing?

“Santi…”  Francisco tried to sooth as Santi’s knuckles turned white, gripping the balcony with a force as the sound of the music swelled around him. You stopped. Iris put her stupid fucking hands on you the way she put her stupid fucking hands on Ben’s body and tainted you. He watched with rage building inside. She was standing too fucking close.

“Will.” Santi barked, not taking his eyes off you two. Will was the most observant. Frankie could be naive and Ben wasn’t paying attention to most things. “Are they fucking?”

He swore he heard Will sigh. “No, Santi. Jesus fucking christ.”

Then they were conspiring against him. The two girls stilled completely. And then they turned around, looking up at him.

Santiago looked right back. They were fucking dead.

Okay!!! were so close to the end! I think it flashback chapter, then the finale might have to be split lololol.

Not a super eventful chapter, but I thought things needed to breathe before the last pieces. Still, I think enough is here to entertain!!

Thank you to everyone who has stuck through all the hiatuses. Ily!!!

If anyone is interested, I just finished my finale of Blessed Be the Fruit which took over a year for a short series. sorry ;-;

anyway its done!

Love you all soooooo much!

If you like Logan Howlett, check out my new series Be Quiet

Poll time!

LOVE YOU ALL!

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[veryconnoisseurcherryblossom]

Edging

Summary: You've been teasing Rodimus for 2 hours now, he deserves some release.

Pairing: Rodimus/Reader

Fandom: IDW Transformers

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No warnings

Tags: Edging, Overload Denial, Light BDSM Themes, Rodimus goes into Subspace

"B-babe, please, l-let me- please-"

Rodimus begged. He wasn't quite sobbing, but the fluid in his optics let you know that you needed to wrap up the scene soon. You hummed with false sincerity, carefully moving your hips around and causing Rodimus's vents to shudder, the tip of his spike grinding against the entrance of your valve.

"Alright, you've been a good boy- 10 seconds. Go."

The chronometer was set, and Rodimus immediately slammed his hips against yours, frantically thrusting into you with desperation. Biting your lip to keep you moans at bay, you silently counted down, each thrust hitting you right in the ceiling node with a delicious slap. Until...

"Time's up, Roddy."

The whine, Primus, the whine Rodimus emitted as he quickly stopped halfway thrusting was so satisfying. He looked at you with wide, wet, pleading optics. His voice was heavy with static as he began to beg.

"Please, pl-please, just- just 5 more seconds, I'm so-"

"You know the rules. Pull out, tip only."

This time, Rodimus did sob as he slowly, tortuously pulled out till only the tip remained inside. He shuttered his optics close, coolant tears now freely falling. You could smell the faint wisp of smoke that was beginning to emanate from his engine, a clear sign that Rodimus had been played with enough.

“You’re such a good boy, Roddy. Aren’t you?”

“Y-yes, yes, I-I am, I just-”

“And I think you deserve to be… rewarded for your behaviour.”

The near puppy dog pleading optics Rodimus gave you could shatter the strongest of wills, not helping the big, fat tears sliding down his cheek plates. It had taken you two hours to get to this point, a new record.

“Go on, then. Go.”

If not giving him a time limit hadn’t clued him in, you wrapping your legs around his hips told him something clear- he was allowed to finally, finally overload. His face broke into an excited smile, his bright blue optics shining brilliantly.

He clung onto you, holding you close as he cried for joy. Each thrust was short and quick, he didn’t want to draw this out any longer. He had one, singular goal in his processor- overload. Each thrust was accompanied with a metallic clang and wet slapping noise that echoed around the room. You were most definitely going to have to buff out some lovely paint transfers.

“F-fuck! Oh fuck, you feel so good!”

Rodimus groaned out, almost deliriously. His exhaust pipes on his arms were beginning to splutter more smoke, loud revving noises coming from his engine. Your calipers clenched tightly on his spike, drawing out a loud, throaty shout.

“Fuck!”

With a final cry, Rodimus slammed his hips against yours, flames bursting from his exhaust pipes. A whimper leaving his lips as warmth bloomed into your gestational tank. Rodimus all but collapsed on top of you, exventing deeply. Tears streaked down his faceplate, his optics looked dazed, far off. In subspace.

“You were such a good boy, Roddy- so splendid, you did so well.”

You softly cooed into his audials, bringing your servo to his face to gently wipe his tears away. After a scene or any extreme interface session really, Rodimus’ aftercare involved a lot of gentle affirmation, telling him he did wonderful. He nodded, a small smile tugging at his lip. His voice was filled with static again, but softer.

“Y-yeah?”

“You were so good.”

Leaning in, you gave him a kiss on his opticbrow. He looked at you with a distant look, his processor would be barely running and it’d be hard for him to think, to vocalise his thoughts. You knew from experience. His optic brow furrowed, his smile dipping into a small frown.

“You- you didn’t-”

Smiling, you cupped his cheek with your servo gently to stop him from finishing. He blinked, staring at you with dazed optics.

“It’s fine. I wanted to get you off. This was all about you.”

You spoke with a soft voice, comforting, easing his worries. Kissing his cheek softly, you pulled away, gasping at the feeling of Rodimus’ spike being pulled out of you and blushing as his transfluid slowly seeped out.

“Let me look after you, Roddy. You deserve it.”

[c-u-c-koo-4-40k]

What do I know about you? - Part 4

Previous Chapter Here!

Next Chapter (Under Construction): Here!

Where it all started! HERE!

Summary: Lullaby finds some common ground with the marine serving as Khopesh’s eyes and ears, and a slightly more positive perspective. Meanwhile Khopesh is facing very Un-Astarte like feelings and does Not enjoy it.

Tags: @felinisnoctis @barn-anon @kit-williams @sleepyfan-blog @bleedingichorhearts @egrets-not-regrets @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @passionofthesith @bispecsual

Authors Notes: Another collaboration with @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan and characters from @kit-williams and @sleepyfan-blog! If I've used one of your boys and forgot to mention it please tell me.

As the familiar sight of his neighborhood and specifically his Lullaby's home comes into view Khopesh feels…uneasy. 

There's no active danger. No charging enemy force or xenos threat, the landscape is as peaceful as he'd left it. 

So why does he feel like he needs to burst from his armor and Run with every step. His insides feel jumbled and conflicted and his hearts are racing. 

Get inside, get the items, get back to Lullaby. He repeats the mantra in his head over and over. Using it to stay focused. 

He's so focused on getting Into Lullaby's house and getting this Over with he nearly jumps when movement over to his left catches his attention.

“Khopesh? Is that you?” A salt and pepper head of hair popping up from behind one of the vehicles is what had triggered his reaction. Even if he'd never met this human personally he knows instantly who he is.

Lullaby takes a great deal after their father. The older man notices him and heads over to the Nightlord.

“Ah- there you are Khopesh,” Lullaby’s father says, looking him over. “I’m just heading out to see Lullaby.” He explains. 

Khopesh doesn't know how to respond. His body is still thrumming, and he really is Not in any mood for small talk. In fact talking feels like it would exhaust him even more than he already is. 

But Lullaby's father continues. He...Just…Keeps…T a l k i n g!

“They mentioned you'd be swinging by to grab a few things. I've got them packed up here so you wouldn't have to dig for em.” The man says gesturing to a box he has on his car. “Said they wanted their rabbit, their blanket and-”

(!) Something suddenly snapped in the Nightlord. (A small snap though, he wasn't going to harm his Lullaby's father.) “I Am Well Aware of what my Lullaby requested.” He cut the older human off with a sharp hand wave. “AND I would have been more than Capable of Digging, these items out.” Khopesh continued with a mild growl in his voice. 

“Your interference was unneeded, I will take it from here-” The Nightlord attempted to brush past the human male.

“What did you just say to me?”

Khopesh perked up at the shift in the man's tone. It had been awkward but friendly at first, now it sounded…much less so. 

Fine. “I said your Interference was unneeded.” Khopesh replied with a bitter edge to his voice. “I will be gathering and giving these items to My Partner. Your involvement otherwise would only be A Hindrance.”

A new expression settled over the human man's face, and Khopesh felt a strange new emotion twist inside, competing with his pent up frustration. 

It almost felt like…guilt. Maybe because that was the specific look Lullaby had given him when they'd told him to back off trying to prove something with the spicy ramen. 

Curze's sake they really Did look very much alike. Nature vs nurture who can say?

Khopesh was broken from his train of thought when the father before him spoke up. “Listen, you might be my child's ‘partner’ but that's just it. They were my child first young man!” Oh damn he'd seen this before, his Vada looked a lot like this when he got protective. And more guilt filled his gut with each passing word. “And I know when my child is lying to me.” He affirmed. “So don’t bullshit me! What’s going on with them?”

Khopesh pulls himself together for a moment from the disbelief. Is Lullaby's whole family so bizarrely fearless??

He pulls on his Nightlord intimidation and looms as he frowns down at the older baseline human. Most tend to be nervous around Space Marines- and a lot are openly fearful of Night Lords.

But apparently not in this Family??? The old man (who isn't quite as old as his Vada) squares his shoulders and meets Khopesh's gaze head on. He’s surprised that Lullaby’s father isn’t backing down. 

“I can do this All Day.” He huffs, crossing his arms. “So you might as well tell me sooner, rather than later.”

Caught out, flat footed, utterly exhausted and looking into the stone set gaze of a man who reminds him far too much of both his Vada and His Lullaby. 

Because he's Lullaby's vada, of course he reminds you of both. An inner voice replies.

And that's when Khopesh realizes… he…he actually Does want to tell him. I mean…he's literally half of what Created his Lullaby, raised his Lullaby, helped make them the person that Khopesh had grown to…care for so much. 

However, Khopesh knows that he can’t directly tell the man what is going on.

Partly because the man won’t understand what’s happening to them, and another because even He doesn't fully understand what's happening to them. 

Which is terrifying. 

He struggles for a moment before saying, “Lullaby is under the Care of Apothecary Hura, so they are safe.” His voice is more dampened, neutral, trying to keep a leash on just how unhappy he is about the situation, and the fact that his Father Anrir and Hura had basically stolen Lullaby from him. 

The human man notices the subtle souring of his expression, and the way the younger man’s hands clench and unclench.

Lullaby’s father arches an eyebrow at the young Nightlord , “Is there…. Anything about their situation that has worsened?” That is one of the most pressing concerns that he has.

“...” Khopesh is uncertain as to how to answer that question. There is so much that he doesn’t know and its starting to really bother him.

He’s… he feels so lost at this moment, and Khopesh takes in a slow deep breath as he pulls on his Bond- the urge, the need to check on his Vada and Muti. Safe- alive, happy, healthy. That soothes something deep in his hearts.

“You're just as much in the dark as we are I guess.” Khopesh turns to the man, and he sees a similar expression of worry. 

“You know…when that one first had their…fall.” He begins, swallowing as he seems to be mulling over the words. “It was the Worst feeling I had ever known. And I always wondered…if I'd been there. Or maybe if I'd stayed home that day. Maybe…maybe it wouldn't have happened.”

Khopesh listens. In all this happening and stress, he'd actually forgotten the Golden Bastard was a factor. The factor really. 

He'd kill him. Skin him. Force feed him his own intestines for this- 

“It was hard…going back to work. Not being able to help as much with their recovery. Of course I'll never be able to thank the Astarte therapists and doctors enough. And especially the ones who helped them that day they…They saved my b-bear…” The Baseline begins to choke up a bit. 

“But…as odd as it sounds. Having you around it…put my mind at ease.”

Khopesh perked up at that, but he was confused. 

“Now don't get me wrong when you First showed up I…won't deny I was pretty uncertain. But then you know what happened?” The man asks Khopesh with a slight mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Lullaby came home, raving about how you'd spooked them. At first they were annoyed. But the more they talked, I could tell they…didn't really mind you popping in from time to time.”

“Talking about how they sassed you. Or managed to not jump at your latest prank. Or even how Cute you looked helping Nancy and Gary or chasing the chickens or trying to handle the feed scoops.”

Khopesh snorted, Astartes shouldn't appreciate being called cute but…it was from his Lullaby so it was Different!

“And…knowing that you were always so close. Basically another set of eyes and one that was more a fixture in the neighborhood, it…helped me. Helped all of us feel…just a little bit safer. That if something bad, like another…fall, were to happen again. My bear bear wouldn't be left without help.” The man finishes, putting a hand on the Night Lords arm. “Thank you for that. Truly. I'm glad you came here and decided to stay.”

Khopesh feels his insides churn again. This time with a mix of sadness, guilt and warmth. Why'd he have to be such a fuckin prick before!? Lullaby's vada didn't deserve that! He decides to put those feelings aside so he can respond. “Thank you…I wish I could…do more.”

“You've done a lot. I know my Bear appreciates you.”

He's…he’s so fucking glad to hear that but F-fuck! Those fucking squirming feelings in his insides are flaring up again. He feels like he's about to…

No. No he can't do that here! He won't!

(!) Then he feels it. Another pull on his bond, a more insistent one this time. His head immediately swivels to his house. 

The Baseline human notes his attention shift. “What is it?”

“My Vada and Muti…I need to go check on them.” He states knowing this is undeniable. “But…Lullaby needs their comfort items I can't -!” He feels a bit like he's about to tear his hair out. 

“Go.” Khopesh turns to Lullaby's vada. The human Baseline encourages him. “I'll tell Bear you needed to check on your family. And you'll bring the box with you once you're done.” He states picking up the box of items from his car hood so he can hand them to Khopesh. “They'll understand.”

Khopesh looks at the box, then at Lullaby's vada. He's still clearly worried, but he's putting on a warm brave face. 

Yes, Lullaby wouldn't fault him for needing to take a family detour but…

Khopesh gently pushes the box back into Lullaby's vada's arms. 

They don't Need Him to be the one to deliver these items. “They should get these items as soon as possible.” Khopesh explains to remove the baselines confusion. “Go to them. Tell them I will be there as soon as I can and…Comfort them…while I cannot.”

Lullaby's Vada adjusts his hold on the box and smiles. “Alright. I will. My wife will be there soon too.”

The human man loads the box into his car and starts on his way down the road as Khopesh proceeds in the opposite direction. 

He picks up speed and vaults towards the source of his bond. And while he's still uncertain, he appreciates his Lullaby won't be alone for much longer. 

_____________________

Claude had sent the request to Anrir and Hura that he be able to speak with Lullaby, in part because access to them had become restricted due to the unknown and unrecorded nature of their bond and their potential for being a Psyker- one of the first recorded that they have heard of.

At least they are letting you see them.

The Medical-talk is confusing- see if Cedric understands their ramblings when you talk to him next time.

Hope you don’t fuck things up for Khopesh and Lullaby further.

Claude is allowed to visit them for a bit, and he’s going to be allowed to talk to them, just keep at least a five pace distance between himself and them. For the next test, he’s not allowed to touch them, for now to see if there is anything that happens or doesn’t happen. 

Quick! Say something nice.

At least Lullaby understands what it’s like to be a Cursed Wretch.

Like you are. A Cursed, wretched half broken tool.

Even the absence of something happens could give them new data, or at least another route to take. Or so Claude heard the older space marine mutter- him and Hura talking hypotheticals that make his head hurt.

Claude knocks on the door and hears Lullaby’s voice that bid him to enter, “Hello Lullaby,”

They look so tired.

Your little zap has caused SO much trouble!

What a mess you helped make!

He tries not to be nervous, and rubs his hands against his pants and looks over at them.

“Ah so…” You pose somewhat awkwardly. “You feel anything different happening?”

Claude shakes his head. “No…but I um…”

Your eyebrow raises curiously at the way Claude seems to be fumbling to get his words out. 

“I just…I wanted to let you know, that I know what it’s like to be cursed.” Claude means that very sympathetically. 

Uh…what? “What do you mean?” You ask, confused, frowning across the room at Claude a little.

Claude reminds you of the words you’d spoken earlier, and his earnest expression as he rubs his chest as he explains how he understands what it’s like to feel so wretched, so cursed, how, “And you feel like everything you touch gets corrupted or perverted. Or like you are a plague upon others- only meant to cause them harm.”

Hopefully Anrir and Hura will remember their limits as a baseline human.

I hope that they can learn to control their powers.

If A psyker cann’t control their powers. Their only use is to die.

You have a sudden realization, like a crashing wave, as you hear some of the words, thoughts and feelings that you'd had, reflected back at them from Claude. 

And however right it had felt in the moment to voice those negative thoughts they'd clearly sunk deeper into more than just yourself. 

“I…don't think it's healthy to be talking about yourself that way.” You say. 

Of course its not healthy.

You aren’t the most stable of Astartes.

I wonder how worried they’d be if they knew about the voices in your head.

Claude's brow furrows in confusion. “I don't understand.”

“Look, I know what I said earlier.” You explain shifting to fully face the young space marine. “I was angry and frustrated and…scared outta my mind that something I don't fully understand could end up hurting the people around me.”

“And while it's fine to be cautious, and to self-reflect, I went too far, letting my meanest inner voice speak. But you know what I'm starting to realize?”

Don’t listen to them!

They’re just a baseline- what do they know about the burdens of Astartes?

“What?” Claude asks tilting his head a little curious to what you are going to say next.

“That inner voice is full of horseshit.” You reply, cheekily. “And if your mean inner voice is telling you Anything like what mine tells me, I'd say it's pretty full of horse shit too.”

Claude doesn't seem fully convinced. “I'm not sure about that…”

You had a feeling Claude's…perspective on this had more history than just your recent outburst. 

Sure- they may have a potentially parasitic bond. 

At least it’s no where near as deadly as psykery can be.

They don’t understand just how dangerous the warp touched are. Not yet at least.

Guess that meant you had more threads to snip than just your own. 

“You remember what Anrir said, right? After I called myself a parasite?” You prompted. “It's a phrase I've heard before, and I stand by it. The most important part of Any tool is how it's used.”

“You, and I have Tools, that others don't. And sure we Could do bad things. A brick can smash a window, but that same brick can also help build a house.” You continue. “And if I'm going to be a parasite, then you better damn Bet that I'm gonna be a useful parasite. A parasite that helps.” You declare.

Claude actually cracks a smile. “Parasites can indeed be important to ecosystems.”

So long as they are not overeager.

So long as the parasites don’t take over the ecosystem.

“And so can your so-called ‘curses’.” You insist. “Without your powers we'd still be in the dark about mine.”

Claude seems surprised, before he mumbles a bit. “If I didn't have psychery you wouldn't be stuck here…”

“Maybe, but that also means I could've accidentally harmed Khopesh's bond without knowing, or zapped someone else who…would not have reacted as well to what's going on with me.” You counter. “As scary as this all is, I'm glad I'm in a place where people can help me. I wouldn't have that without your zap.”

Someone far worse and cruel could have zapped them.

Like a Chaos Astartes. That would have been so much worse.

The teal in Claude's eyes flares up for a moment. “Ah…I guess that is true.”

“I mean it Claude. I…I'm very grateful that you're helping me. And I'm glad You helped me discover this. Rather than something more…traumatic happening.”

Now you see a slight blush appear on the space marine's face. “Ah…you're welcome? I still feel a little bad though…for all This, happening…”

You grin wryly. “Tell you what? You can make it up to me.” 

Here comes the other shoe.

The catch twenty two, or so others on Ancient Terra call it.

I wonder what they want?

Claude perks up. “What is it? What can I do to help?”

“I'm only gonna ask one thing. And so I'm not a hypocrite, I'll agree to it as well.” You say. “I don't want you calling yourself cursed, or a blight, or Any of that negative self talk around your powers. And as long as you do. I'll do the same. Deal?”

Claude flushes, his nose and ears and cheeks going bright pink, “I…I will try not to say that about myself, so long as you do, Lullaby.”

You nod approvingly. “Good. Then it's settled. By the way, is the touch timer up?” You ask, genuinely curious but also for another reason. 

Claude thinks to himself for a moment. “I think it has been long enough.”

You shrugged. “Good.” You hopped off the hospital bed, and strode towards Claude. Before the Primaris could question your actions you opened up your arms, lifting them. “You okay with a hug or should I pretend I meant to just stretch my arms…save us the awkwardness?”

Well Claude hadn't been expecting that but…hugs Were nice. Plus if it made Lullaby more comfortable with their situation it would fall under the category of caring for them while Khopesh was unable. 

“I…am amenable to that.” Claude replied, he leaned down. 

Claude, though firmly introverted, had received Some physical affection in his troubled lifetime. Mostly as an aspirant from his close battle brothers. And ironically with his Primaris brother's busy schedules these days he received quite a bit from Khopesh and the other Night Lords. 

Anrir was a good shoulder to lean on. Karlsor would allow it if he was psychery drained though he pretended not to enjoy it. Khopesh naturally enjoyed spooking him with a sudden grab out of nowhere, sometimes lifting him up for a moment. Which was annoying, but the embrace itself wasn't Terrible and the hair ruffling that followed was…a bit childish but not unwelcome. Ghosk would also hair ruffle from time to time. 

But admittedly…being hugged by a Baseline was Far different. He thought, as Lullaby's much smaller body fit into his. And he was careful not to exert too much force. 

For one they were Warm! Very Warm! Almost too much so. And despite picking up the scent of the sterile hospital environment there was a well set scent underneath that reminded him of soil baked under the sun and animals. 

He could always hear their heartbeat, but he also felt it now. And he felt them squeeze him firmly with their much weaker arms. It was a combination of soothing sensations Claude could easily see himself falling asleep to. 

No wonder Khopesh called them Lullaby. 

They pulled back after the firm but brief embrace. And naturally Claude allowed them. He did miss the warmth a bit. Maybe it was a Nightlord or Raven (or Teal) thing to run colder. He didn't notice large temperature differences with most other Astartes of those kinds. 

Knock knock knock 

The knock at the door behind you caused both of you to turn your heads. 

“Who is it?” You ask. 

“It's Apothecary Hura dear. May I come in? We've received your items and some guests are here to see you.” 

Your heart leaps into your throat. Is Khopesh back? Will you get to see him now? You feel excitement mixed with churning anxiety rocket up your body for a moment. 

But wait guest(s)? Plural? “Ah please come on in!” You say hurriedly and naturally the Death Guard on the other side opens the door. 

Instead of a 8 to 9ft tall pale ghoulishly handsome Nightlord…your heart leaps again to see two Very familiar faces standing beside Hura with a box. 

“MOM! DAD!” You bolt to your parents without thinking.

“Lullybird!” “Bear bear!” They respond almost in unison. Your dad holds out the box to you. 

“I ran into that ‘friend’ you'd sent to get these things.” He winks cheekily at you which causes you to blush. “He had to go check on Nancy and Gary, so he sent me on my way so you could have these sooner.”

“Your father told me, your ‘friend’ would also be along later, after he made sure Nancy and Gary were alright.” Your mother supplied. 

Oh…well, while you were disappointed you wouldn't be able to see Khopesh for a bit longer, you couldn't blame him for needing to check on his folks. 

I mean how could you? Right now you had your own parents in front of you (talking about knowing your special ‘friend’. Wait does that mean they know you and Khopesh are- You know what you're not gonna think about that right now.) and wanted to hug them so tight and Never let go. Speaking of which…

You take the box properly but quickly set it aside, before snagging both your parents into an embrace, one arm each. “I'm…I'm so happy to see you both you have N-no Idea!” You felt like crying. You felt like laughing. But you settled on sniffling a bit and hugging your loved ones close. 

“Oh Lullybird.” Your mother cooed, wrapping her own arms around you, returning your firm embrace. 

“We're here now Bear,” You father reassured, stroking your back like he'd done when he soothed you as a baby. 

Meanwhile Claude and Hura watch the tender scene. Hura feels both content satisfaction and a bit of longing. He could imagine a similar scene playing out with his Mouse if they could ever produce offspring…unlikely as that is to be possible with his chaos genes. 

Claude also feels happy. Glad to see Lullaby looking happier than they had been. (And also secretly a Little jealous that he'd not had a normal family experience.)

You do pull back eventually and ask, “How much have Hura and Anrir filled you in?”

Your mother and father exchange a look. “Apothecary Hura explained the basics once we were out of the main areas. Something about a mutated bond?” Your mother replies. 

You nodded. “Yeah…something's changed about it. The Astartes here want to make sure the change isn't harmful.” You add, then turn back towards Claude. “Claude here's the one who found out about it. Without him it might've gone on and caused problems later.” You say, gesturing to the Primaris in the room behind you. 

Claude feels an embarrassed blush creep up his face at being put on the spot. “Ah it was r-really more of an accident.”

Lullaby's mother approaches him, “Accident or not you helped our baby. Thank you so…So much young man.” She gestures for him to lower his face and she gives him a quick motherly smooch on the cheek. 

Lullaby's father approaches next. “My wife is correct. You've done us a great service son. You have no idea how much we owe you.” The gentleman holds out his hand and though Claude is still surprised from the cheek kiss, he remembers this time to hold out his own hand. 

So it's still surprising when the older baseline pulls him (more like pulls himself towards Claude but still) into a quick one armed hug while also still doing the handshake and Holy Stars Lullaby's father runs even hotter than they do. 

His hand is starting to sweat, and he Is getting a bit overwhelmed but thankfully the contact is short. 

He now understands where Lullaby gets it from. But pushing that aside the family continues to talk. 

“So what comes next?”

“Apothecary Anrir and Hura are testing me…testing It rather. Seeing how it works.” You explain. “They haven't found anything super harmful about it…yet. What comes next depends on their best ideas on where to go.”

“Indeed.” An old regal voice agrees, you see Claude perk up out of your peripheral vision and You recognize it too. Anrir steps through the threshold, How had you not noticed him behind Hura?? 

He addresses your parents. “Greetings, I am Apothecary Anrir, of the Nightlords.”

Your parents react…a little less warmly to Anrir then they did to Claude. But they do respond Politely at least. “Ah hello.” “Hello sir.”

“Your dear child is correct. This…phenomenon is the first of its kind any of us have witnessed.” Anrir continues. “Their bond, went through the normal path of withering and desiccation after it was…rejected.” Anrir explained, and seemed to feel the discomfort slightly spike in the room when referring to your…bond breaking. “It was simply doing so at a much slower rate than normal, however, Now it has taken on a completely new form. And with new side effects.”

“What are the side effects?” Your mother asks. 

Anrir pauses, seemingly thinking over his next words. But rather than an explanation, he puts forth an offer. “I believe a demonstration would be most appropriate to explain the Nature of this mutation. If you would all follow me.”

Hura seems confused by Anrir's actions and stops the Nightlord. They have an exchange in Gothic. Hura seems upset for a moment, but after a few back and forth retorts he sighs…Heavily, and steps to the side. 

You stay where you are. “What do you mean a demonstration?” You pry, preferring not to be led by the nose. Even by someone who Is and Has been helping you. 

Anrir smiles. “You said you wanted to be a Useful Parasite did you not? A parasite that helps?” He presents your own words back at you. 

I mean are you really surprised the solitary room has surveillance? They'd have to be watching and listening for that to work but you still feel embarrassed. 

Anrir continues. “I believe an opportunity has presented itself so that we may see if that is possible. Of course your parents and Claude may accompany you, just not Inside the testing room.”

You feel even more in the lurch, but… “You think…I can help someone. Right now?” You ask, half incredulous, half hopeful. 

Anrir nods. “Indeed I do but of course…as a medical professional I can only present Options, I cannot Force you to undergo any tests.”

Your parents look to you for your reaction. You have a feeling with Anrir that line about force is just Slightly bullshit. But…you also Do want to help. You want to Understand. 

You want to be useful. 

You square your shoulders, and stride up to Anrir. “Show me how I can help.”

The Nightlord smiles in a way that you think is meant to be reassuring but comes off unsettling…or maybe that's your nerves distorting your view. 

“Excellent, now without further delay.” He responds, giving a slightly smug look towards Hura. “If you would all follow me.”

_____________________

Slam! The door to the house shook as Khopesh bolted inside, much like earlier. 

Though instead of delight and excitement he was filled with dread and anticipation.

He scanned his eyes around as if he was scoping a battle ground quickly; side door, living room, step over barking chihuahuas, kitchen, Muti shuffling through mail…

“MUTI!” Khopesh called out, a bit louder than he intended which caused his Muti to startle a bit. 

“Oh hey Baby what's-EEP!” The older southern woman didn't have time to finish her statement as Khopesh crossed the distance in a second. Quickly checking her for any injuries with eyes and hands like he would an ally in battle. 

But...Nothing, nothing was wrong. He came here for Nothing! Khopesh felt his hands come up and clench into his long dark hair. 

It wasn't nothing you felt your bond react. It could have waited till after you checked on Lullaby. Lullaby has Their vada and muti by now they don't Need you. Is Lullaby suddenly more important than your bond? You can love both! THEY'LL BE TAKEN AND IT’S ALL YOUR FAU-

“Baby?” Khopesh breaks from his spiraling, when his Muti puts a soft hand on his face. He realizes his long nails were digging into his scalp hard enough that it probably left some shallow cuts. 

He looks into his Muti's eyes. He sees her warmth, the love he'd been denied all his existence, finally willingly given which is what led him to stay in the first place. “What's wrong? You know you can tell me baby.”

After everything…the pain…the stress…the uncertainty…he couldn't hold it anymore. 

Khopesh breaks.

The proud, frightening, cocky, self assured shock trooper of the imperium collapses to his knees, wrapping his arms around the mortal woman's waist and Weeps. 

“Ooooh, com'ere sweetie,” Nancy cooed, still confused but easily switching into comfort mode. Her large adopted son was Clearly dealing with something he had no idea how to cope with. Which is somewhat concerning, given how capable her Khopesh is normally. But she'd weather it with him regardless. “Let it all out baby.” She gently strokes his hair to his back as Khopesh continues to sob. 

“There there, do you wanna talk about it?”

Khopesh sniffs and hiccups, shaking his head as he continues to cry into Nancy's shoulder. “I-I c-can't! I can't tell you!”

Before Nancy can ask why Khopesh continues. “Nothing is going the way it should be! Why is everything going wrong!”

“Can you…explain what's going wrong?” Nancy asks tentatively. 

Khopesh's head shakes again. “I…I can't tell you…everything in detail.”

“Then tell me what you can, my son,” Nancy says gently petting her son’s hair, holding him close to her as he sobs and breaks down.

And so Khopesh does; carefully omitting the full nature of the classified information. He tells his Muti about how Lullaby and him had Finally gotten together. 

“About time. I was worried I'd lose the bet.” His mother chuckled as his tremors and sobbing eased. 

He told her about how they'd spent the day and Night together (not in detail thank God), how they'd shared their first meal together, how everything felt so…So Good. 

And then how it all came crashing down. “Now they have to stay at the base. I cannot Touch them. I cannot Comfort them. I'm…” And that's when it hits, the full realization of the fear that's been eating him alive. “I'm terrified they'll be taken from me and I'll never see them Again!”

Just like psychers had been in his days serving the imperium. 

That bleak set of memories was interrupted by his muti gently brushing her fingers through his hair. He turned his gaze to the mortal woman who held so much of his heart. While another piece of it sat where he couldn't reach it. 

“Life is never just an easy ride down the hill. And that's especially true when you love somethin or someone a whole heck of a lot.” Nancy exposits gently. “But as long as you both take care of each other, you can weather any storm that comes,” Nancy says after listening to what he says.

Khopesh understands what his Muti is saying. He hopes she can give him more clarity on other things too. He wipes his face free of tears and asks, “How did you and Vada meet, Muti?”

Nancy smiles, as she recalls when she first met her husband, “Well I first met him when we were both at college.”

“I remember how fiery you were,” His Vada suddenly walks into the kitchen chiming in. He must have overheard their conversation and was letting them work through some of it before joining. “The sass you had!”

“Oh- like you didn’t give as good as you got, Mister!” Nancy retorts, a faux-stern look on her face.

“I remember, when we lived in separate apartments, on the same floor.” His Vada says, “And you started cooking your Pot Roast- god, everyone on the floor could smell how good it was. So I wiped up a batch of quick-biscuits and knocked on your door, a hot plate of biscuits in hand, and hope in my heart.”

“Ah- I remember that,” Nancy replied fondly, pressing a kiss to her husband’s face. “And we kept trading food. I remember that smoked pork you gave me half a pound of it.”

“And you turned it into hot bagel sandwiches and gave me the tupperware container back with the bagel sandwich,” His vada replies with a dreamy sigh, “Gods, I kept trying to get better at cooking to share with you, just to see how you’d turn it into something better and we’d share the food together.”

Khopesh marvels at the sweetness before him, but part of him is also confused. “Wait…so neither of you promised the other protection or shelter in exchange for company?”

Both his Vada and Muti give him a quite confused look. “Ah…no son. Can't say I ever did that.” Gary replies, scratching the back of his neck. “I Did give you my umbrella that one time you were running late for class I think. Whatever happened to it by the way?”

“Oooh ah…when the rain stopped I think I…accidentally left it inside one of the classrooms.” Nancy replied sheepishly. 

“Nanc!” Gary gasps with mock disbelief. 

“I wasn't used to carrying one around! Gar gar!”

Khopesh looks on the scene and feels a…bit better- that he hasn’t made any major missteps that would fuck up his chances with Lullaby. And he relaxes a little. He had listened to the stories that his parents had shared about their life together- and how they had built it together. It makes him feel… warm. Soft? In a way that he struggles to identify. It wasn’t a bad feeling though. Just- warm all over.

And he is firm in his conviction now. He wants to share that warmth with his Lullaby. Khopesh gives his Vada and Muti a hug, “I’m going to return later.”

“We’ll be here,” They both say giving him hugs, one pressing a kiss on each side of his face.

_____________________

Anrir, with a still hesitant looking Hura following after, moves smoothly along the hallway. Followed by you, your parents, and Claude. Claude looks at you with a concerned, and confused expression on his face as he follows after them, curious to see what the next test was, and he hadn’t been told he couldn’t watch. Not by the Apothecaries, nor by you.

Claude’s head snaps up and he shifts you and your parents behind him protectively, as he hears the sound of a thrashing, howling marine in agony. You clamber to see what's causing the noise and gasp when your peeking around Claude’s large form reveals a familiar marine beyond the glass of an operating room. 

He's even still dressed in the smart dark green uniform you'd seen him in not 24 hours ago. 

“Dear God,” Your mother mumbles in horror. “What on earth?” Your father says in a similar tone. 

“Pyrus?” You murmur confused, “but just hours ago, he was Fine!?”

“What’s wrong with him?” Claude asks in alarm.

Anrir turns to look at them, a neutral- yet expectant look on his face as he explains the situation, “Pyrus was struck by an Intense bond.”

“Oh no,” Claude murmurs with a wince, those bonds can drive a Brother or cousin mad if they aren’t careful.

“The human Rejected him,” Hura continues to say as he heads over to the window of the suffering Salamander, who keeps sobbing, and writhing in the bed. Trapped and blubbering in a mixture of High Gothic and Nocturna.

“This could kill him, if something isn’t done about it,” Claude says, teal and black eyes wide with concern. He doesn’t want his friend to suffer a horrific death. “Or something worse.”

“Normally,” Anrir says, “We would have to wait out and hope that the bond breaking isn't strong enough to strangle the life out of Pyrus- and bleed his soul into… the afterlife.”

“It is not the most common thing, normally the way an intense bond kills is the spiritual strangling causing the marine to act erratic and eventually injure themselves fatally. But sometimes the bond itself back firing is enough to kill.” Hura explains as he moves, giving you a less obstructed view. 

Even Pyrus's head and jaw is restrained, probably to keep him from biting his own tongue. The sight and thought makes you nauseous. 

“But…with the odd mutation You have my dear, You might be able to help Pyrus,” Anrir says looking towards you with a curious, expectant expression on his face, “Of course- it’s your choice on what you decide you want to do.”

You look at the suffering marine again, but your mind is already made, despite your parents unsure muttering. “It's worth a shot.” You say, simple but firm. Poor Pyrus- he’s clearly in a lot of pain, and you wanted a way to help. 

“Are you Sure Lullybird?” Your mother asks. Always the more overprotective of your two parents. 

You turn to her and give a small smile. “I want to understand this…part of me. And I want to help.” You nodded. 

“There will also be three Astartes in the room supervising; Myself, Apothecary Hura and Karlsor.”

You father nods. “Alright…but If you let my child get hurt…” 

Anrir isn't offended, he smiles as he replies. “I know Exactly what you would try to do to me. I would do the same.”

“Oh hohoho there will be no Try,” Your mother assures. “We Will, make it happen.”

Your smile turns wry. “I'd believe her if I were you, Doc.”

While you and Anrir discuss how the entry and application of your abilities will work, a message comes to Claude's vox. The young marine glances down.

“What is it?” Hura asks in Gothic.

Claude responds in the same, understanding the unspoken request. “It's Khopesh, he's just returned.”

“I’m going to speak with Khopesh,” Hura says still in Gothic as he leaves the room, he doesn’t approve of using a Baseline for something so potentially dangerous.

Besides, with so many unknowns with what they don’t know about what Lullaby can do, it worries him that this could go poorly. Hura finds Khopesh, who looked a little more steady when he’d last talked to the younger Space Marine.

“Khopesh,” He calls out, “I need to speak with you privately.”

“Of course, Hura,” Khopesh says. “What’s going on?”

After they get somewhere private Hura explains, “Lullaby is being led to a room with an Astarte who’s Intense Bond was recently Rejected.”

“You mean a dangerous Astarte,” Khopesh amends, he’s somewhat appalled that Hura is telling him this -that he’s allowing this. “What if the Astarte hurts them!?”

“I didn’t want to do this test,” Hura says, “But Anrir insisted that we ask Lullaby if they were willing to help or not.”

“And they wanted to help,” Khopesh says, slumping a little.

“Yes.” Hura replies.

“Which room is my Lullaby in?” Khopesh asks of Hura, a scowl on his face.

Hura pauses, but tells him which room Pyrus is in. He sent a message to Anrir- who sent a message to Cedric. Khopesh is close to the room, when Cedric blocks him, as Hura, Anrir, Karlsor and Lullaby have just entered the room with Pyrus. 

“Khopesh!” Your parents seem surprised to see the Nightlord suddenly appear. 

And to see him look so furious and determined.

“Wait,” Cedric calls out to Khopesh and body blocks him from the door, “the treatment has started- and it might not be a good idea for you to go into the room until Karlsor and Anrir or Hura say it’s safe for you to go into it.”

“It will not be safe for Any of you, (except my Lullaby's family and Claude), if you do not Let Me Through!” Khopesh snarls. “If Lullaby wants to do this, Fine. But I will not take being unable to help them lying down!”

“I'm under orders to not let Anyone else into the room. If I have to, I Will sedate you!” Cedric replies. “You're helping more being out Here as an extra line of defense.”

While Cedric deals with a very protective Nightlord, you (unaware of Khopesh's return) stare down at the thrashing Marine- he looks to be in a lot of pain, you…don’t know what to do. 

You turn to Anrir who is also having Karlsor prepare for a warp examination of what’s going on. 

“Do I just…touch him- Ah!” You ask them to recoil as another fit of thrashing occurs. 

Hura tries to stabilize the movements, while Anrir responds. “Just do Exactly what you've done before.” He says, he then puts a hand on your shoulder again. “And remember, We are With You.” 

Looking into those dark eyes you actually feel comforted. So you take a deep breath, square your shoulders, and step to the table again. You decide Pyrus's shoulder or arm would be a good option. Hand holding could get your fingers crushed, and the face could get them bitten off. 

Gently, as the downed marine huffs quick pained breaths with large tear tracks still marking his face, you lay your hands on Pyrus's huge bare forearm and try to get him to talk. 

“Woah, there big fella it's…it's okay. It's going to be okay. Woah now….” Okay you're talking to him like you would a horse, but he seems to be hearing you. 

Meanwhile Karlsor watches the way the mycelium tendrils start to curl onto Pyrus. Just like with Hura they beeline for the vines, and start to sap at the ragged edge of the broken Intense bond. Pyrus is still overwhelmed and in pain. He looks up at you and chokes out in the local language, “I… am sorry that you have to see me like this.”

You take a moment to respond. “You shouldn't feel ashamed of something that isn’t your fault.”

Pyrus responds, shaking his head a little, as tears fall down his face, “but it was though.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, trying to keep him talking but also legitimately curious. 

“I was too abrupt, too brash.” Pyrus replies, his voice breaking a little, as tears fall freely down his face, as he whispers in shame, “I chased my potential bond away, this pain must be my punishment.”

You didn't agree. “Being rejected…it hurts. But it does Not mean you were too bad…or even too Good. It just Is.” You object, shaking your head a little as you take in a deep breath and continue to speak, “I don't know why your bonded did what they did but…I know that it doesn't mean You are any lesser. And I Know for a fact no one deserves to go through this.”

As they speak these words, Pyrus seems to calm down, and the agonizing, soul deep pain that is tearing him apart slowly eases. The words that you have spoken, ring something strong and deep within both of you.

Karlsor watches as the strangling vines and thorns that were carving into Pyrus and having his soul bleed and suffocate were slowly shrinking and withering, releasing their grasp on Pyrus until they resemble a more normal broken bond.

As that happens, he sees that Lullaby's mutated bond in turn grows a little brighter with the addition of the power it just absorbed. 

You still can't see Any of this happening but you Do notice a sudden uptick in your energy; like getting a direct injection of caffeine. Are your hands trembling? You're pretty sure they're trembling.  

Anrir calls out, “Lullaby, please back away from Pyrus- so I can examine him.”

You nod and step back. You feel- really good. You'd been tired and kinda numb before, but now you feel like you can do almost anything! Anrir checks over and Pyrus tells him, “Your vitals are back to normal. How do you feel?”

Pyrus pauses and takes stock of himself and licks his lips and, “I still feel emotionally drained but no longer in agony.”

“That’s a lot better than you were before,” Anrir says pleased.

“Yes! That's amazing!” You cheer, pumping your fist like you just won a war! 

Anrir turns to look at them, eyeing them carefully and asks them, “How do you feel?”

“I feel…pretty fricken awesome! I mean!! I just helped save somebody's life! Also I feel like running, or dancing to music or just going outside and doing cartwheels on the lawn Also can somebody stop my hands from shaking, cause they're Really shaking-”, You take in a deep breath and closes their eyes as you take stock of yourself and say with a note surprise, “I also feel…good. Hopeful. I think what I'm feeling is Hopeful. That's good right?” You ask, mostly joking.

Anrir nods. “That is most certainly a Good thing.” You smile. 

Before the room can settle into full content, there's a knock on the door. Hura peaks out and a pleased expression appears on his face as he calls out, “Pyrus? You have a visitor.”

“Oh? Let them in,” Pyrus says as he shifts a little in the med bed, unfortunately, still tied down as he looks at the door to see who it was. His eyes widen as he recognizes the human who’s in the doorway looking painfully self conscious.

“Ah…hello,” They address those in the room they hadn't met including you. “My name is Saytr. I…called emergency services when Pyrus collapsed.”

Wait does that mean this human was. Oh…Oooooh…

Saytr turns more fully to Pyrus and addresses him. “I…wanted to say…I'm sorry. I got scared. When you first approached me for a-a Bond.”

Pyrus winces and looks down and away from them at that, he hadn’t meant to scare them like that. Satyr speaks up again, “I've been thinking over my decision. And- when I saw that you collapsed. You looked so- badly hurt. I…. I realized that I’d let my fear make the decision for me.”

Pyrus peers up at them, his ember red eyes sparkling with fragile hope and caution at the same time. Satyr comes into the room and paces a little bit as they take in a deep breath and says, “I … want to get to know you Pyrus… maybe just save what was essentially a marriage proposal for after we get to know each other, yeah?”

Pyrus gives them a big, bright smile and nods, “I can do that. I really do want to get to know you.”

Karlsor can’t help but groan a little as blood trickles down his nose and eyes. He’s got a massive fucking headache. As he’s been using Warp Sight for far too often. Also this sappy fucking bull shit is making him want to throw up.

Anrir turns to his fellow Night Lord, “Karlsor- look at the two newly Bonded, well, Rebonded.”

“I’m really fucking tired, Anrir!” Karlsor snaps, “And bleeding, and headachy.”

“Do it,” Anrir orders, his voice deepening.

“Fucking- fine,” Karlsor hisses, and switches on his Sight and sways dangerously, as he leans against a the far wall. “The bond has come back- all glowing with sparking plant life and fewer thorns.”

Wait a minute. “Karlsor! Say that again.” You demand striding up to the Nightlord with the bleeding nose. 

He looks at you incredulously as he's leaned down due to exhaustion. “The bond looks all flowery and shit?”

You feel yourself buzzing! “Do you know what this means!?” You ask excitedly, and impulsively grabbing Karlsor's face with both hands. (Which he surprisingly doesn't bite you for but maybe he's just too taken aback you're being bold enough to grab his face.) “It means even if I Can sap a Bond, it can come back! I don’t have to worry about hurting the Bond that Khopesh already has with his Vada and Muti! I can actually Touch him!” You release Karlsor's face and immediately snag him in a hug around the waist. 

“H-hey! QUIT It Would ya-” Who is still on the back foot, and not sure how to handle your burst of energy. 

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you! I gotta go find Khopesh!” You declare, releasing a still Very confused Karlsor. “Hang on sweetness! I'm comin for ya!” You charge out the door like a soldier on a mission from God!

You bolt out the door and start sprinting down the hallway, firmly intending to run! Run! Run! Run! RUN! AND FIND YOUR KHOPE-OOf!

You almost fall ass over teakettle as a firm forearm? Came into your path, and damn near knocked the wind out of you. You see the pale color with blue viens and immediately assume it's Claude. 

“Claude lemme go! I gotta go find Khopesh and tell him everything's alright!”

“Um…Lullaby?” You whip your head around at the familiar voice…that Wasn't Claude. 

Long dark hair? Check. 

Scar across the mouth? Check 

Mirthful (if a bit tired and unsure) twinkling dark eyes?

Check!

“Khopesh!” You crow joyfully, shifting so you can pull your Nightlord into a tight embrace. 

“Oh! Lullaby! My Lullaby!” He returns full of relief and delight and you feel your own delight skyrocket when he pulls you close and you feel his roaring purrs start up. 

You nuzzle and snuggle and press quick sweet kisses to the side of Khopesh's face and his lips in between saying,“I missed you! I missed you So Much!” 

You put your hands to the sides of Khopesh's face as he lifts you, holding you up around the waist. “My bond isn't dangerous! I can touch you! I can touch you!” You cry out with joy. Then another realization, with your voice momentarily taking on a Slight sultry edge. “And I can Love you up…as much as you want me to…”

Khopesh's beautiful face takes on a blush that makes your heart Melt. But he also looks a biiiit embarrassed. 

And you realize why when you look past Khopesh's head…and see your parents and Claude looking at your and Khopesh's -ahem- Affectionate exchange. 

Well if they didn't know already, they sure do now…shit. 

“Oh ah…Hi mom…dad.” You greet your parents. “So ah…the test went…pretty well.” Khopesh gently sets you down, but keeps an arm around you.

You understand. You don't want to lessen the contact between the two of you right now. You have your arm resting on his lower back.

“So…you two Really are?” Your mother poses, and you feel a small amount of traitorous Shame creeping into your gut. 

But after Everything you've been through, you are Not letting Khopesh slip away. “I'm happy mom. He makes me happy.” You affirm, looking into Khopesh's dark eyes, before meeting your parents' gaze. 

Your father seems to be waiting on your mother's response, he wraps his arm around her shoulders. 

She sighs, and leans into your father's touch, before opening her eyes again. 

“Alright.” She finally says. 

“Alright?”

“Alright.” She nods. “If he makes you happy, and treats you well…I have nothing to say.”

“...Mom!” You cry with happiness reaching out and leaving Khopesh for just a moment. So you can hug your parents tightly. 

Khopesh misses your touch, but he can be patient; especially for this. 

“But if he hurts you I will Kill him, and dump his body in the fields.” Your mother adds. 

“Mom!” You reply, with only half shock. 

“You'd better trust her Bear.” Your dad replies with a twinkle in his eyes. 

“Oh trust me I do.” You assure your father, before returning to Khopesh's embrace. 

Claude watches the tender moment between all four of you with a smile, as Anrir, Hura and Karlsor exit the testing room. 

“Oh fuckin Greeeeeat, they're back together.” Karlsor grouses, as he adjusts his shades. 

A look of confusion passes over Claude's face. “Are you not glad we achieved a decent outcome?” He asks the older Nightlord. 

Karlsor groans. “Tch, yeah sure I'm fuckin glad or whatever. Woo-hoo everybody's happy and in fuckin Love! But do they have to be so fuckin saccharine about it??”

Claude smiles awkwardly. “Oh I don't know, I find it rather cute.”

Karlsor looks back at the happy little family and his lovesick battle brother. “Yeah…whatever, at least my headache's fuckin died down.”

“Language, Karlsor.”

“Ack!” Karlsor yelped as Anrir suddenly  joined the conversation him, and Claude were having. “Fuckin! … I'm not gonna finish that sentence.” Karlsor decides as Anrir gives him a Look. 

Anrir strides to You and your family. You note how Khopesh's arm becomes just Slightly tighter upon seeing the Nightlord Apothecary. 

“Anrir,” Khopesh says, not full of vitriol this time but…not entirely friendly either. 

Anrir acknowledges his son. “Khopesh…I am glad to see you have returned.”

Khopesh's grip doesn't lessen. “My Lullaby has told me their bond is not dangerous.”

“Not Quite.” Anrir responds. “But at this time it doesn't appear to pose a permanent threat to any bonds.” Anrir clarifies. “However…”

You suck in a breath, gripping Khopesh back. 

“I believe this phenomenon will require further study. In fact, I believe Lullaby may be able to learn to Harness this ability, so they can control it. Rather than simply using it passively through touch.” Anrir explains. 

Well…that doesn't sound too bad. But Khopesh doesn't relax. 

“And this control…how will they be taught to achieve it?” He asks, tamping down on a growl in his throat. 

Anrir straightens his posture. “As any psychery inclined battle brother would be.” He says. “They will be monitored and trained by limited and trusted individuals Here at Gannett Point.”

“Oh, OoOoh!” Khopesh lets out a sigh of Intense relief. You finally feel his posture relax. “That…that makes sense…”

Anrir raises an eyebrow. “Khopesh…did you think I would send them…elsewhere?”

The Nightlord holding you bites his lip, but doesn't respond. 

“Khopesh,” Anrir half laughs in disbelief, before swapping to Nostraman. “Where in the stars would I send them?? We don't exactly have an imperium of training worlds to choose from.”

“Ah…right. I just…I remembered how it was when psychers were found…in my time…” Khopesh replies, sheepish in Nostraman. “But they will be Here. They can stay Here?”.

“They will need to stay here.” Anrir confirms, swapping back to the local language so you and your parents can understand. “At Minimum for tonight as I want to monitor their status after the test.”

“I mean…I'm fine staying the night, but my job and my mom need me. I can't just up and leave.” You protest slightly. 

Anrir does pause at that, seemingly thinking it over. His eyes glance back at Hura, who is also listening to the conversation. “You'll no doubt need training. We will work out an arrangement at a later time so you may help your family.” He states. “As for your job, as a participant of a scientific study you can be compensated. This way we can counteract any reduction in hours or extra travel you undertake.”

“Naturally, we would prefer your lodging to be at the base, but if you'd prefer commuting we can accommodate.” Anrir acquiesced. “If you are to ever change your mind we can set you up with a room.”

“You could stay in mine!” Khopesh cooes excitedly. 

While a permanent bunk was a bit of a step, you couldn't deny the thought of sharing a bed with Khopesh again was enticing. 

Especially with how tired and lonely and drained this whole roller coaster of events had left you. 

“Right now…resting next to you sounds like the Best compensation for…everything…” You agree, leaning on your precious Nightlord. 

Anrir chimes in. “I'm afraid I'll have to insist you stay in the observation room. We must be able to monitor you for any changes.” 

“Aw really?” Khopesh groans with disappointment. 

Anrir held up a hand. “You may share the space. Provided there are no objections.”

“The space won't be too bright for you will it?” You ask Khopesh. 

“My darling, I would brave a solar flare for you!” Khopesh declared with a dramatic flare that made you giggle. “Besides…the hospital rooms can be dimmed, you know this don't you Lullaby?”

Now it was your turn to look embarrassed. “Ah…now I do?”

“Pftt-Hahahahaha!” Khopesh let out his trademark cackle. You honestly didn't think you'd ever thought it sounded sweeter. 

You brought your hand up, gently placing it on the side of his face. “Let's go to bed Khopesh. I want to hold you.”

You feel the purring come again, Khopesh nuzzles into your hand. “Of course, my Lullaby…let us retire for the evening.” He agreed, pointedly ignoring Karlsor making a blech face in his peripheral.

“Sounds like you two have everything planned out.” Your mother chimes in.

“Don't forget, if you need us we're just a call away.” Your father reminds you. 

“I know. Thank you guys so So much.” You say, feeling tears starting to well up. You bring your parents into another embrace. 

“I love you both…I'll be home as soon as I'm able.” You promise, giving both your parents a kiss on the cheek. 

Your folks then turn to Khopesh. “I meant what I said.” Your mother vows. 

“Hey! Just take good care of our Bear bear, and you've got nothing to worry about.” Your father jokes as well. 

Khopesh brings himself to attention. “I vowed the same to my Vada and Muti. You have my word.” He swore. “I will protect them with all my life, and soul.”

Your parents nod, and with another round of goodbyes and I love yous, they are escorted by Apothecary Hura back to the entrance. Meanwhile, you, Khopesh, Anrir and Claude make your way back to the observation room. 

As you come to the room, you turn back to Claude. “Thanks again for all you've done Claude.”

The short haired primaris blushes, a little less than before. “Ah well…I was just trying to do right by Khopesh.”

“And you did so in Spades, little brother!” Khopesh cheers, slapping his brother on the shoulder. 

“Indeed,” Anrir agrees. “You should be proud Claude, you have been an invaluable help. I'm sure Karlsor is grateful to have another Psycher to aid in warp examinations.”

Karlsor rolls his eyes and grumbles but doesn't disagree. 

Anrir shows you where and how the dimmer switch works, before he and the other Night Lords depart. (You do give Claude one more hug.) Then you pick up the box of items your parents had dropped off earlier; glancing inside you feel your chest blossom with warmth. 

Seems your folks hadn't forgotten your previous hospital stays. There were fresh clothes and your dental care items; as well as the items you'd actually remembered to request. 

But before you get changed. “Hey! If anybody is listening, turn around so I can change!” You call out. 

Khopesh comes up behind you, resting his head upon yours. You'd never get tired of his purrs. 

“Hmmm, I need a little more space sweetness.” You coo, shifting to remove your shirt, Khopesh responds by nibbling a little on your ear a little, but he does back up enough.

You realize he's acting as a barrier. He might know where the survelliance viewpoint is. “Thanks cutie,” You wink, and finish changing. 

You brush your teeth in the room's sink. And place your possessions as you like them on the bed. Once done, you clamber up, and snuggle beneath the covers. 

It is a decently large bed after all, made for a good range of astarte sizes. Comfortable for both of you. 

Khopesh sets the lights to his preference, hence why you got on the bed first as to not be clanking around in the dark. And it is very dark. You can't see a thing besides a slight glow from where your phone is face down charging. 

The dark shifts, you feel different parts of the bed dip with weight, you feel a familiar breath drift over your lips.

“Mmm,” You don't hesitate to follow that breath back to the lips it came from. This kiss wasn't like the exuberant ones you'd given before. This one was…deeper…more sensual. You move gently, and Khopesh does the same, pressing close so you have more contact. 

Nose to nose, forehead to forehead. 

“I've missed this…so badly my Lullaby.” His voice fans out in another soft breath. 

“I've missed you too.” You reply. You couldn't show Khopesh the full physical affection you Really wanted to. Not in this room, while being watched. 

But you could lay next to Khopesh as he settled in beside you. You could drape your arm across him and pull yourself to him. And you could feel yourself readily and Quickly lulled to sleep by the sound of his purrs, and the feeling of him running his fingers through your hair and the sound of his two…hearts…

…zzz…

Khopesh smiled, he felt himself drifting as well; to his Lullaby's scent, their gentle breathing, and the sound of their heart…

…zzz…

__________________

Back in his study, Anrir continues to write down and transcribe his recent findings, as well as plans for future tests, possible training exercises, those sorts of things. 

“You know you can go about your evening Karlsor.” Anrir says, noting how his son seems…oddly attached at the moment. Normally once testing was done he'd be on his way to get looked over for psychery pain or handle other duties. 

The foul mouthed Nightlord shifts where he's standing. “I've got a fuckin question.”

Anrir pauses in his writing, the tension in the room feeling thicker. He sets down his stylus. “Of course, what is your quandary?”

“Why'd you let Lullaby argue their way out of fuckin staying so Easily? Doesn't seem like you to be so…easy about something so Security risk-ish.”

Anrir pauses, thinking over his response. “Well there was simply no need to push dear Karlsor.” The older Nightlord replies. “You of all people should know baselines can be…Stubborn. Trying to force them would have made them less cooperative.”

“But by presenting it as a choice, and one that will be present and more appealing as time goes on and commuting and training makes them more affable to it, we've a better chance of achieving the desired result.” Anrir concludes.  

Karlsor nods slowly. “Okay. Makes sense…now my Other fuckin question. Who's supposed to train them?”

“...”

“You gotta be fuckin kidding me!” Karlsor growls. He's got his hands full with the Scouts and barely being able to use his powers period! He doesn't need a baby baseline psycher on Top of that. Fuckin dammit.

“Now now Karlsor, don't be so quick to dismiss.” Anrir chides. “They'll also have physical training days and I will ensure you don't have to oversee those. However…I Believe you may come to appreciate their presence when you train your psychery.”

Karlsor looks confused. “And why's fuckin that?”

“Because even without psychery I noted the improvement in your status After they'd touched you.” Anrir said pointedly. “Did you not find it strange that your warp migraine dissipated so easily? So much Quicker, than it usually does.”

Karlsor takes a moment, he's mildly stunned to realize Anrir is right. “I…You're fuckin right…what the Fuck?”

Anrir smiles, a true Nightlord grin. “I believe our dear little Lullaby could be a great benefit, not just in terms of research but in how psychery may be able to function in the future here.” Anrir's eyes take on a wild quality. “Imagine it! A psychic conduit, able to absorb and redistribute the energy from bonds!”

Karlsor is a bit…overwhelmed by his father's sudden enthusiasm, but he's not stupid. He understands the possible perks. “Uh yeah…I'd definitely appreciate less shit fuck nosebleeds and pain.”

“This is only the beginning of a long road of discovery my dear Karlsor.” Anrir proclaims, turning back to his notes. “And while you are here tell me, what sounds better: a training regime leaning more towards that of a typical Guardsman or perhaps one more akin to a Sister of Battle?”

Karlsor feels some nervous sweat bead on his brow. Lullaby better be ready for the long haul ahead. 

[writingkeepsmewhole]

Party Gone Wrong

This is part 5 of The Bet my old Draco Malfoy Fic that I'm bringing back. This is not following the books or movies it's just me having fun. :) I hope you like it. Let me know what you think and if you wanna be tagged.

Draco Malfoy X Reader 

Fic Summery: Draco bets reader she can't make him fall for her.

Part Summery: Reader goes to a party and gets in an interesting situation with Draco.

Warnings: Maybe a word or something not for sure.

Let me know if you want to be tagged in something.

Part 1 Part 4

The next few weeks were not what I would call normal. Well school was normal but other than that my life at Hogwarts was strange.

Everytime I walked through the halls I somehow always bumped into Draco or him bumping into me. Whenever I was in class when I looked up I would find his blue eyes staring at me.

I’m sure to others it looked threatening or like he was glaring at me but I knew the truth.

He was waiting for me to win him over. To do something that would give him a reason to like a mud blood.

I was in the middle of trying to enjoy lunch while catching secret glances with Draco. He was talking to Pansy but he wasn’t looking at her.

I stick my tongue out at him, earning a wink back that makes me giggle.

“Hey Y/N!” one of the twins says sitting next to me, followed by the other one.

“Umm yes?” I say making myself turn and face them.

“You wanna come to another party tonight?”

“Umm sure.”

“Okay great but bring a date.”

“A date?”

“Yeah we are going to be playing games and we want it to be about even for couples.”

“And who am I meant to invite?” I ask.

“The only boys I know are your brother and Harry and one of them is not speaking to me.”

“Oh you can’t invite them, they already have dates.”

“Can I come by myself?”

“No. See you tonight.” They say at the same time and stand up leaving me alone.

“Thanks.” I say after them.

I spent the rest of the day as normal as it could be. I was heading back to my room when I was approached by Neville.

“Umm hi.” He says, stopping me in the hallway.

“Hello.” I say smiling at him.

“Are you going to the party tonight?”

“I was but apparently you can’t go alone.”

“You don’t have a date?” He asks, looking at me from looking at the floor.

“No one I wanted to ask.” I say Draco’s face comes to mind but that was a big no no.

“So umm would you like to go with me?” He asks, blushing.

“Sure.” I say smiling at him.

“Really?”

“Yeah, you're a nice person. I wouldn’t mind spending a night with you.”

“Thanks Y/N.” He says blushing.

“No problem.”

‘I’ll umm meet you in the courtyard after dinner.”

“Sure.” I say smiling at him.

With a read race he quickly scurries off making me laugh. I walk into my room with a new plan in mind.

I was going to get dressed in normal clothes but halfway through I couldn’t help but wonder if Draco would be there. I blush at the thought,  hating now I was starting to look forward to seeing him.

Chewing my lip I looked at my clothes laid on the bed and decided to change plans. I wasn’t going to dress up for anyone. But this was a game right? I was meant to make him break down and fall for me.

I have to stop the twisted smile on my face wondering if maybe I should have been in Slytherin.

Giggling, I shrug and start to get dressed.

I didn’t have much time so I settled for ripped jeans, a tight t-shirt that showed off just the right amount of chest and some converse.

I penned my hair up in a clip leaving a bit out to frame my face and put on natural makeup except for my winged liner.

I winked at myself in the mirror, scratched my cat Hallow’s head and skipped out the door wondering what kind of trouble I could get into tonight.

Bouncing down the steps I was shocked to find Neville waiting for me by the fireplace. Him blushing when he saw me.

“Wow, you look great.”

“Aww thank you.” I say, smiling my head falling to the right.

“Are you ready to go? Harry and Ron already left.”

“Of course they did. Those two are gonna get each other into a lot of trouble one of these days.”

“Haven’t they already?” He asks, as we start walking out into the hallway.

“Yeah, they seem to every year.” I say, smiling at the thought of their antics.

Neville laughs nervously the rest of the walk to the party filled with easy small talk.

When we get to the party it’s in full swing. The twins were vetting people before they came inside. They also hand everyone a drink as soon as they come in.

“What is this?” I ask, looking at the shot. Whatever it was, the liquid moved inside it.

“A little of this.” One twin said.

“And a little of that.” The other one said.

“Will it make me forget tonight or do anything against my will?”

“No!” They both say looking shocked I would even ask.

“Fine. Bottoms up boys.” I say living the shot to them then knocking it back.

A sweet taste filling my mouth and running smoothly down my throat. It makes a warm feeling settle through my body.

“Great you have fun tonight.”

“Always.” I say winking at them and walking into the crowd of people. Neville right on my heels.

“Are you okay?” He asks me over the music.

“Yeah, why?” I ask, looking at him. Noticing how flushed his cheeks were.

“Your face is really red.”

“Yours too. Must be the drink.” I say shrugging, as the music grows louder.

“Yeah I’ll get you a drink.” He says, smiling, walking into the crowd.

I smile after him, Neville always seeming so sweet and cute.

“You came with Longbottom?” A familiar voice says, making me look up over my shoulder to see Draco standing there, drink in hand. A glare on his face.

His cheeks are just as red as apparently everyone else's. 

“You like his bottom?” I ask, acting like I couldn’t hear him. Draco looked shocked and then angry at my question.

I giggle, it dies as soon as Pansy steps from behind him.

“Aww did you have to pay someone to come with you?” She smirks at me.

“No, if I ever do that I’ll be sure to ask you for tips.” I say, not surprised when she tries to step towards me. Draco stopped her.

“Gotta go. Tootles.” I say, getting ready to leave them two alone until warm lights flood the room. The twins climb onto a table getting everyone's attention.

“Ladies and gentlemen. Thank you all for coming.” They say in unison.

“We can’t wait to start the games we have planned tonight.” They say making me roll my eyes at their dramatic flare.

“We hope you all came here with someone you liked because-.” They say looking at each other smirking.

“They are the one you will be staying with tonight.” They say clapping their hands on the word tonight.

The weight of something around my wrist makes me look down seeing a band wrapped around my wrist.

It was thin, gold and silver weaving around each other. It was kinda like a bangle only it had a chain attached. The chain only being six inches or so. The other end of the chain was connected to none other than Draco Malfoy. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I say the sound of voices murmuring through the room.

“Now now everyone, the overall game is simple. Play our games or tasks and win to gain keys. The more keys the more links on your chain. Once it reaches three feet the spell brakes. The last couple stuck together loses. Or wins.” The twins say bouncing between each other talking.

I sigh, looking at Draco then at them.

“I’m gonna kill ‘em.” I say, hearing a huff.

“This makes no sense. You two didn’t come together.” Pansy says.

“Clearly not. That’s the point. Whoever you were standing close to is who you are stuck with. I’m just glad it wasn’t you.” I say glaring at her.

“Now first task. Hold hands with your partner.” One of the twins says grinning.

Once again the mix of voices fill the room but soon people start holding hands, a soft popping sound being heard as another link adds to their chains.

“This is ridiculous.” Pansy says, grabbing her partner's hand. Some hufflepuff kid that looks terrified and maybe excited to be stuck with her.

Sighing I reach for Draco’s hand, him snatching it away from me only jerking my wrist up following his movements.

“What are you doing? I’m not holding hands with a filthy mudblood.” He spits at me.

“Well I hate to tell you it’s either do that or be stuck with me all night. Who knows maybe the rest of the year. George and Fred happen to enjoy these kinds of pranks.”

“Fine.” He glares.

“But don’t get any ideas.” He says slowly lowering his hand.

“I wouldn't dream of it, big boy.” I say, taking his hand in mine. A soft pop is heard, another link being added to our cuffs. The cuff grows half an inch. Each link is only that long.

‘Oh joy.’ I think, wondering how long I was going to be stuck with him at this rate.

I look at the crowd of people, some of them still holding hands others not telling me I could let go.

I open my grip, expecting my hand to fall but I’m stopped when Draco’s fingers lace with mine. I look up at him, but find him staring straight ahead like he has no idea what he just did.

“Who are you and what have you done with Draco Malfoy?” I whisper under my breath.

“Shut it.” He whispers back, making me blush.

I clench my jaw hoping he didn’t notice that it would look no different than my cheeks have all night.

Another round of pops fills the room as all the couples who let go of each other gain two links on their cuffs.

I can feel the smirk on my face from Draco making me glare up at him.

“Shut up.” I say sticking my tongue out at him, a cocky smile settling on his lips.

“Enjoy the party. We will give you your next task shortly.” The twins say disappearing.

“Oh my gosh really? That’s not fair!” Pansy says loudly.

“That’s my ear.” I say holding the ear she just screamed in.

“I’m going to find those two and-.” She mumbles going off into the crowd.

“She’ll never find them.” I say, more to myself than anyone.

“Lucky me.” Draco says, sounding annoyed.

“Well if you didn’t want to get stuck with me. Maybe you shouldn’t have been invading my space.” I say back at him.

He looks shocked for a second then sighs.

“Whatever.” He says, his forehead wrinkling up.

“I need a drink.” I sigh.

“Come on.” He says pulling me with him.

“Where are we going?” I say, having no choice but to follow him. I could drop our hands but I wasn’t about to lose two links.

“To get you a drink.” He says, not looking back at me.

“Okay?” I question, wondering why he was being nice.

I’m surprised to see the twins at the punch bowl chatting with a few other people. Neither of them have holding hand buddies. But no one around them seemed to mind.

“Ah, look who it is.” Fred I think says meeting my gaze.

“Shush.” I say, them snickering at my partner.

“I should have never come here tonight.” I say grabbing a cup to pour myself some punch.

“But you did.” Fred says.

“Now you're here.” George says, smirking.

“You two are both idiots.” Draco snaps.

“Calm down anger management.” I snap at him, elbowing him in the side.

“Only I can be me to my friends thank you.” I glare at him.

“Ahh enemies to lovers.” The twins say, nodding to each other.

“We can see it.” Fred says.

“We can.” George says.

“Why do you two have to talk in riddles?” I ask, looking at both of them.

They both shrug and grinning.

“Can we get our next task or whatever over with so I can go to bed?” I ask, not wanting to be here now that I was stuck to Draco all night.

Yes I wanted to win the bet and toy with him a bit but I didn’t want to be attached to him.

“Sure.”

“Whatever you say.” They say, disappearing.

“How do you stand them two?” Draco asks.

“They are funny.” I say shrugging trying to pour me a drink.

“Here.” Draco says holding my cup so it doesn't move then handing it to me.

“Thanks.” I say, taking it off the table and taking a drink.

“I’m surprised you would drink that. After the shot at the door.”

I shrug again.

“I’m already here. No point in worrying about it now.” I say, shifting my weight onto my left hip, making me bump shoulders with him.

“Sorry.” I say straightening back up.

He doesn't answer me. The twins appeared once again in the middle of the room.

“Alright everyone, next task. Show us your favorite couples pose. You have five minutes to decide. Choose wisely you’ll be like this for an hour.” They say, looking directly at me. A devilish grin on their faces.

I clench my jaw wishing I would have brought my wand to curse them.

Voices and music fills the room as people work everything out. Laughs mix in them, seeming to enjoy themselves.

“Oh my gosh come on.” I say dragging him with me.

I don’t give him time to respond as I walk towards the group of couches and chairs.

“I’m not standing for an hour.” I say to him watching the seats get filled up as others get the same idea as me.

Seeing a large chaise I rush towards it getting to it before anyone else.

“Sit.” I say looking at Draco, him looking me up and down.

“Please.” I say through gritted teeth.

“All you had to do was ask.” He says sitting down, our hands separating. It was clear that wasn’t the game we were trying to win anymore.

I watch Draco sit, him leaning back. I knock his legs apart as I climb onto the soft cushion, turn around and plant myself between his legs just as our timer goes off.

[shinestarhwaa]

THE BOY WHO GOT MISUNDERSTOOD || JUNG WOOYOUNG

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Pairing: Wooyoung x Fem reader

Word Count: 2.3K

Tags/Warnings: College AU, Several Mental health issues (Mentions of Depression, ED, SH, Su*c*dal tendencies > Please do not read if you are too sensitive for these topics and seek help if you suffer from these ❤️), bullying, unprotected sex, fluffy sex, virgin!Wooyoung, handjob, fingering, tiny bit of orgasm denial

Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @lemonhongjoong @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @1-800-shedevil @glintneon123

ENJOY!

They acted like he was a danger to society. All of them. You never really understood why, but that's the way it simply was at Samson University. Even the principle, grandson of the university's founder, mr. Samson didn't like to get close to him.

No one did.

The boy was in your class this year and somehow he fascinated you. He wore big baggy clothes all the time, usually they were black but once in a while he wore this big Red hoodie. It seemed to be his favourite. You wondered what he looked like in lighter clothes.

He bit on the end of his pen, a nervous habit of his. He nearly chewed off a dozen pens in only two months time. His legs bounced often and he twisted his rings a lot. Anxiety? Maybe.

A lot of people gossiped about him. Technically, 95% of the university gossiped about him. The other 5% were too wasted to even think. They said he was dangerous, cursed even. That he'd have magical powers that he used for evil causes; black magic.

"Have you heard about the unconcious girls found near the dumpsters? Must've been that creep."

Another story came to life in the back of the classroom. You slightly turned your head to see Elsie and Lando gossiping, again. They were your friends but you didn't always agree with them.

Mr. Patterson stood in front of the class and shushed them, even though he snickered a little bit. You swore you could see Wooyoung shrink with every snarky comment coming at him.

You couldn't believe someone so beautiful could ever cause any harm. He has deep brown eyes that seemingly hold the universe. His jaw is sharp, probably after weight-loss. He was chubbier when he arrived here. His nose is quite prominent, you liked it.

"Do you think he ever killed someone?" Elsie giggled from behind you. You glared at her, sighing deeply. "Elsie, you cannot just go around and say stuff like that, you know nothing about him."

"Oh, look who's a saint now. Why do you care, Y/N? It's just a little creep. I heard he-"

"Elsie, I don't wanna hear it," you sighed as you turned back. You locked eyes with Wooyoung for a split second. His eyes are so kind.

He looked away again, as mr. Patterson dismissed the class. You walked out first, pissed off at Elsie and everyone else who was being unfair to him. Were you blind? Stupid? Why couldn't you see it?

You saw him walking back to campus later that day. He looked like he was shaking. Maybe he was crying. Your feet froze, even when you wanted to be open-minded, you remembered the things Elsie said earlier. Maybe he was dangerous.

•

•

"Does anyone know the answer to question 4B?" Mrs. Milburn asked, looking into the class. Only Wooyoung raised his hand. "No one? Has no one studied at all?" She asked, disappointed and ignoring Wooyoung.

Wooyoung sighed and kept his hand up. "Mrs. Milburn. I am right here," he spoke. She didn't reply. He got up from his seat and stood in front of her, but mrs. Milburn backed away.

The whole class let out an 'ooh', maybe a few distant giggles, but you felt your heart sting. But it was so hard to step up and do something when your opinion was different from the others'.

"No one else has hair like that, you freak, you're probably gonna go back to the dumpsters again and hurt a few more students," Vince yelled from the back of the class. You saw something crack in Wooyoung's eyes this time.

The rest of that week he didn't show up in class.

It seemed like you were the only sane one, the only one who wondered where he went, why he had the blonde in his hair, like no one else. If he says he didn't dye it, would it be magic?

The week after that he showed up again, eyebags bigger than usual. He had the red hoodie on and you smiled softly. His gaze met yours from across the room but he froze when he saw your smile. You felt confused as he quickly made his way to the bathroom. Did you do something wrong?

Wooyoung got in trouble again the next day, the principal called him out on his hair, saying he shouldn't go around wearing that ridiculous color. Wooyoung tried to explain he couldn't help it, he was born with it and he couldn't dye it due to his sensitive scalp and his allergies.

You felt for him as all the people laughed at him, didn't understand him. Was he speaking the truth? Who was he? Was he the scary boy who had secret powers, or just an ordinary boy with a little genetic fault?

•

•

On Friday there was a party at someone's house; Cameron's parents were out so he invited the entire year to come party. You were there as Elsie had dragged you along. You kind of hoped Wooyoung would be there, just maybe.

And apparently he was, as chaos arose as he was acknowledged. "Get out you freak, you don't belong here!" People yelled. Girls screamed, running to their boyfriends. Wooyoung froze again. His eyes no longer sad, but just empty.

Wooyoung ran away, and as the others continued partying you followed him. He walked into the huge backyard and stood in front of the pool. You frowned as you got closer. Suddenly he jumped in there and you waited for him to come to the surface again.

Seconds passed and Wooyoung didn't resurface, and when you saw Wooyoung resisting gravity you didn't waste any more time and you jumped in, taking a hold of his waist and pulling him up with ease. The boy was light like air.

He panted and coughed as you helped him on the edge. "What are you doing? What do you want from me?!" He yelled. "I'm not gonna let you drown yourself, Wooyoung!"

"I-I wasn't, I was just... I wanted to escap- Did you say my name?" "Yes... Why?" "Nobody says my name," he whispered. "I'm sorry I didn't stand up for you when..."

"But you did... You're the only one who came even close to standing up for me... Or is this all an act? Are you trying to tempt me into hurting you like I supposedly did to the other girls?" He scoffed.

"No, no, Wooyoung. Please, hey let me take you home, get you some clean, dry clothes. Can I call anyone? Your parents? Siblings?"

"I only have my mom, I don't live with her," he explained. You sat next to him and laid your hand on his shoulder. "Can we still call her?" You asked gently.

"She's dying, Y/N, she suffers from Dementia and she's way too fucking young. Anyway, it doesn't matter. She doesn't recognize me and I scare her. So technically I am alone."

You felt your heart ache for him. "Come with me," you spoke. You stood up and reached out your hand. Wooyoung hesitated but took your hand in his. Before getting in your car you stole towels from Cameron's bathroom which you put on the carseats.

After a few minutes you arrived at your aunt's house. "I have the key to my aunt's house, she's on holiday and I'm babysitting her cats Mac and Whopper."

"Aren't those burgers?" Wooyoung asked as you got into the house. "Yep, she has an unhealthy obsession with them."

You ran upstairs to get some clothes from your uncle and you gave them to Wooyoung. He got dressed in the bathroom as you changed into your aunt's clothes in her bedroom.

Downstairs you made him tea and brought him food and a blanket. "Why are you doing this?" He asked, on the verge of tears. "Because I think you get unneccesary hate, it's nonsense. I know I haven't exactly done nothing so I'm not a saint but... I believe you."

"But you'll lose your friends if you're nice to me. Everyone will think you're crazy." "Then I'll be crazy," you smiled softly. "I can't let you do that, Y/N, I'm not that important. I'm just a freak."

You slightly brushed your fingers through his hair, stroking the blondes. They felt regular. He was just like everybody else. You smiled, but Wooyoung was crying as you touched his hair.

You took him in your arms and let him cry, cry out heavily, and you cried with him. "Nobody wants me, I could easily die, no one would miss me, no one. It's just hair! Why do they think I'm a freak? All those crimes happening... that isn't me!" He protested.

Nodding, you pulled him in even closer. "I know, I know, they're not making any sense. But I don't want you to die," you spoke gently. "I'll be there."

You held him as he slowly calmed down. You noticed he hesitated to eat. "Do you have an ED, Wooyoung?" You softly spoke, trying not to trigger him. Wooyoung fell silent, and it was enough to answer your question.

"Do you think you could take one bite?" You suggested, still holding him. "There's no point in it, I'm gonna die anyway." "Someday, when you're old, but not now. You're gonna live. Let's live, Wooyoung," you smiled.

•

•

You kept it on the low at first, your contact with Wooyoung. He scared easily and you didn't wanna lose your status at school like that. Yet you hung out with him all the time after classes, learning about each others' stories.

"You know that I've never had sex before because everyone thinks I'm dangerous?" Wooyoung confessed. You smiled gently and brushed your fingers through his hair. "Do you want to change that?" You grinned.

Wooyoung blushed. "I do, but I'm too full of scars, Y/N, no one could love me when I look like this," he sighed, "but I'm just a boy. I get feelings, I get excited, just sometimes."

Gently, you reached for the zipper of his hoodie, slowly bringing it down. "W-Wh-What are you doing?" He protested, covering himself up immediately, but you had already seen it. The boy was skinny and his arms were wounded, partly wrapped up in bandages.

"I'll love you no matter what you look like, Wooyoung," you confessed. You locked eyes and immediately knew. Wooyoung was putty in your hands.

Your lips collided and bodies intertwined as you made out with him. A tear fell down his cheek but he persevered, finally feeling loved, finally feeling embraced, finally feeling understood.

You brought him to your room and you undressed each other and laid naked in your bed. "May I touch you, Wooyoung?" You asked, and he nodded.

Your hand slowly wrapped around the base of his hardened cock. His body tensed when your thumb touched his sensitive slit. "Try to relax, try to let go, sweetheart," you cooed. You slowly pumped his cock up and down and he let out the most beautiful moans. As you sped up his moans grew louder, and you loved how vocal he was.

His cock was beautiful and thick, veins running from the base all the way to the tip. "You're so gorgeous Wooyoung, you're so loveable," you spoke as you moved your hand faster.

Wooyoung's moans got whinier, louder and he squirmed, signalling you that he was close to orgasming. You stopped and brought his hand to your pussy. You guided two of his fingers inside you, breathing heavily.

His fingers were long and skillful, picking up the things you liked right away. "Yes, yes just like that, curl them- Yes! Right there," you moaned, throwing your head back. Wooyoung's fingers sped up and hit your favourite spots repeatedly, making you moan out his name.

"That's so good baby, yes, yes, I fucking love that, keep going, keep going!" You cried out. Wooyoung panted and looked at you in awe as he watched you slowly unravel on his fingers. Just as you're about to cum you stopped him, sinking down on his rigid cock.

You moaned loudly and arched your back as you rode him, his hands sliding from your hips to your thighs. Your moans collided, creating a beautiful melody.

"Wooyoung, Wooyoung," you moaned, chanting his name over and over again. "Y/N, please! Please, I'm gonna cum!" He cried, body shaking ever so slightly, cock twitching inside you.

Before you could say anything he burst, cumming deep inside you and filling you up. You moaned, being send over the edge. You clenched on his cock as you came hard, orgasm taking over your body and mind.

You collapsed on Wooyoung's chest and he held you. You held each other, until the sun set that day.

•

•

As soon as you publicly showed your support and attention for Wooyoung, you were an outcast. Everyone thought he either kidnapped you and threathened you or he used his 'black magic' on you.

Now you were bullied as well and Elsie and Lando had completely turned their backs on you. Wooyoung and you were alone in this world.

You sat in a field on a Saturday in June. The sun was slowly turning the sky orange as it dropped lower and lower.

"Why don't we run?" Wooyoung asked you, taking your hand. "Run?" "We could run, we could travel the world, start somewhere new, somewhere we'll be accepted, somewhere we'll be loved," Wooyoung spoke as he caressed your cheek.

You smiled and looked at him. His smile was bigger than ever and he was dressed in white and blue, bringing out his beautiful skintone. He was lighter, enlightened even.

"You want to run with me?" "Let's leave everything behind, run into the unknown," Wooyoung smiled, "I am finally happier, now that I have you. I am not afraid, I do not wanna hurt myself any longer, I won't wear black, I'll be happy, and free!" Wooyoung exclaimed.

You laughed and took his hands. "Where do we go?" "Where the sun leads us, Y/N," Wooyoung smiled. And you knew, you'd be fine with him.

Your special boy. No longer misunderstood.

[midgardian-witch]

I dunno if you’re taking requests, so sorry if this kinda just shows up and you’re not taking requests 💀

But I was wondering you could do the moon boys with like bassist reader. Cause as a bassist I sometimes just like get into the groove too much and I’m just playing like mindlessly playing Pyretta Blaze or like Bombtrack. Or like reader is playing like Tommy The Cat and the moon boys are in like awe.

Sorry if this was too vague!

At the moment I am always taking requests but it may just take a while until I can get one done 😅 So no worries, anon!

I have no background in or talent regarding music so bare with me here 😅

Flattery

tags: fluff | established relationship | can be read as platonic relationship too | gender-neutral reader (they/them pronouns are used for reader)

relationships: Moon Knight System/Reader

AO3

Bleary-eyed and with sleep still clinging to every muscle Marc wakes up to music filtering through the bedroom door. He lays there for a bit, brows furrowed in concentration, just listening to the low notes. He could swear he recognizes the song from somewhere. 

Oh, that sounds lovely! 

Steven's voice pulls Marc out of his musings. "Mhmm…," he mumbles wordlessly. Slowly, he stretches his heavy limbs before climbing out of bed. 

I don't think it's the radio. I wonder where it's coming from. 

Marc combs his fingers through his hair and sighs. Steven's wanna-be-detective tendencies are not something he appreciates right after waking up. 

It sounds good, hermano. Doesn't matter where it's coming from. 

Great, now Jake is awake too. Rolling his eyes, Marc refrains from commenting and shuffles over to the door, opening it carefully as to not make too much noise. 

As the door opens the music becomes clearer, a deep, rich sound that Marc can't quite place. His body moves on its own accord, or maybe it's Steven or Jake moving it, following the music like a siren's song. 

In the living room, between mountains of books, he finds you. Your fingers move expertly over the strings of the guitar you're holding. Despite his foggy mind Marc remembers you owning a bass guitar though neither he nor his alters had ever seen or heard you play it. Until now. 

He can feel the sound inside his chest, the deep bass vibrating through his ribcage. It's energetic in the way coffee keeps you up and awake. 

You're so focused, so pulled into your own music that you don't notice him. Marc, and with him Steven and Jake, have turned into your captive audience, silently listening to you play. 

He stands there wearing only his boxers and a t-shirt, staring at you with an awestruck expression like you'd hung the moon. The way your fingers move over the strings of the bass, your brows furrowed in concentration and your head bobbing to the rhythm - you're a vision. He could stay like this for hours, days, months and never tire. 

They're so talented. 

Steven sighs dreamily while Marc and Jake hum in agreement. There is no need for discussion while they simply listen to you play. 

On the last few notes you look up and are startled by his presence. 

"How long have you been standing there?" 

Marc shrugs and takes the last few steps towards you. "A while. You didn't tell me you were a musical genius," he says, pointing at the instrument on your lap with a grin. You look at him, like a deer caught in the headlights of a car, heat rising to your cheeks. There is pride swelling in your chest at his praise, even if he is exaggerating. 

"Not a genius. Just a lot of practice."

And talent. They're being too humble.

"You're talented," Marc repeats what Jake and Steven had said before, as he kneels down in front of you, "I'd love to listen to you play more often, if that's ok? The others too."

You shake your head in disbelief. "Oh, so Steven and Jake were listening in too? Didn't think I'd have such a big audience or any for that matter," you respond with a laugh. Marc's grin spreads even wider, your laugh always making him feel lighter. 

"Seriously though. You're an amazing bassist. Could you play a little more? Only if you feel like it of course."

His eyes are full of adoration, his smile dazzling as he gazes up at you, still kneeling. How could you refuse? 

"Maybe a little. Don't let it be said that flattery gets you nowhere," you answer cheekily before playing another song.