#other's saying that he didn't felt anything for her at all??

[melminli]

Love To Dream

summary - there was this one girl that thanos really wanted, though, she didn't really want to have anything to do with him. unfortunately, that made him want her even more.

pairing: (thanos) choi su-bong x fem. reader

word count: 1.5k

contains: modern au, mention of drugs, enemies to lovers vibes ig, crack, yearning

a/n: i don't even know what this is tbh but I felt like we all deserved some laughs ;)

Life was good - life was really fucking good, Thanos thought to himself as he winked charmingly at a group of hot girls. They had been looking in his direction for a while now while giggling, clearly interested in him. He continued to watch them as he sipped his drink, the club music pumping through his veins like adrenaline. Thanos's eyes darkened as the girls continued to cast lustful glances in his direction - he knew he could easily get more than one of them into bed tonight and why wouldn't he? It hadn't been long since his last performance on stage, reminding everyone present once again of his legendary status in this club.

However, his attention was focused somewhere entirely else after the most breathtaking person ever decided to walk past him. The pick-up lines he had been thinking of for the group, vanished from his mind after this angel showed up in front of him since the other girls could barely compare. The whole thing looked like something out of a scene from a Kdrama because time seemed to pass in slow motion and your hair was swinging in the air like that of a princess - which would have been the perfect time for some product placement because it just looked so damn soft.

Thanos had his mouth wide open in shock and put a hand over his heart to check if it was still beating while his eyes never left your figure. You - who was leaning prettily against the bar right next to him as you ordered something from the bartender.

“Hey.” he finally recovered from the moment and casually moved towards you. “I'd introduce myself, but I assume you already know me.” he talked to you with his flirty face as soon as you looked up at him.

You smiled shyly. “Yeah, I watched your performance,” you answered him and seemed quite grateful that he was speaking to you right now. “You were pretty good.” you giggled slightly as you complimented him.

“Yeah, that's just how I am.” he sighed as he looked around the room as if it was a burden for him to have to live with all the recognition. His eyes met yours again and he tried to impress you by unpacking a few bars while emphasizing them with the movements of his hands. “Girl, I know you and I are meant to be because after I looked at your pretty face everything stopped being. If only you saw what I can see, you'll understand why I want you so desperately.” he rapped to you, stealing the last line from some One Direction song, but you didn't need to know that.

You shyly put your hands in front of your face to hide your smile. “Oh my god, that was so incredibly sexy, I'm so horny for you right now.” the words came out of your mouth and made Thanos screw up his face weirdly for a second.

Because first of all, those vulgar words didn't match your innocent demeanor in the slightest - and secondly, you said exactly what Thanos had imagined you would say - it was actually a bit creepy since you literally said it word for word. Thanos hardly thought that he could foresee the future all of a sudden or that you could maybe read minds, though he decided to ignore the whole thing as soon as you started touching his chest softly with your hands. He wanted you so bad.

“You don't even know what you're doing to me right now,” he whispered to you while you felt him so sensually and he was about to kiss you, hadn't you stopped his lips with your hand as you laughed into his face. “I think you should wake up now. Otherwise, the pink elephant will keep handing out balloons to people.” You told him, pointing behind him to where the bar was supposed to be.

“Hah?” he asked you confused and turned around while continuing to hold you in his arms, but all he saw were a few dogs breakdancing - and that was nothing out of the ordinary. He continued to look at the scene with a grin, even though some inner voice inside him was stressing out about kissing you immediately as if he was running out of time. He finally turned back to you and was about to continue when he suddenly heard a man speak. “You really should wake up man.” Nam-gyu's voice told him and Thanos only caught himself almost kissing him after he took a closer look. He just pushed him away from him in disgust and then -

Thanos woke up from his sleep, bathed in sweat, when he saw your face in his field of vision. “Finally, you're sleeping like a dead man. There's some guy at the door who wants to talk to you,” you told him as he sat up tiredly while slowly recovering from his strange dream.

That's right. You weren't just some hot girl he met at the club, you were his fucking roommate. Thanos discreetly pushed more blanket over his lap as he tried to shoo you away from his room with a wave of his hand. “Yeah, yeah - I'll be right there, just - give me a moment,” he said without looking you in the face.

You just sighed slightly and complied with his request, though not without letting him know how unhappy you were. “I told you to stop giving our address to these dealers. I don't like it when they show up here,” you grumbled under your breath before dashing out and closing the door behind you.

After that, Thanos let out a very heavy sigh and stroked his face aggressively. “Now she's showing up in my dreams, too? Fucking great.” he grumbled to himself and got up from the bed to put on some decent clothes. His eyes met his own reflection as he pulled a shirt over his head. “Get a grip man, what's wrong with you?” he asked himself as he grimaced in annoyance. “You're Thanos the destroyer, not some kind of -”

“Stop taking so long and come here already!” your voice suddenly shouted, coming through his door slightly muffled.

He looked even more annoyed at that and made his way to the living room while shouting back at you. “I'm fucking on it, alright!” and it only took a few loud steps from him to your front door for him to yank it open to fix the damn problem. He looked at his friend, completely bothered by his presence. “What do you want?” he asked him and was kinda glad that it at least wasn't Nam-gyu because he just really didn't want to see his face at the moment and probably for a little while.

“Hello, to you, too.” the man in front of him greeted him, already used to his weird mood swings. “I just wanted to do you a favor by bringing you some of the pills you wanted because last time you almost beat me up when I didn't have them with me,” he explained, holding the bag, which Thanos grabbed instantly before inspecting it more closely. “Don't act like you didn't deserve it, I paid you the money in advance, man. Of course, I was angry,” he complained again and would probably have beaten him up for real right now if he had ruined his morning over something completely unnecessary. However, he would still have to make sure that something like this didn't happen again so that you didn't have another reason to kick him out of the apartment.

“You know, maybe this was meant to be. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been greeted by an absolute hottie today,” he said happily as he stood there, still interested. “Is she your cousin or something? Do you want to introduce me to her?” he asked and was quite confident in the way he acted, but Thanos just looked at him emotionlessly for a few seconds until he slammed the door in his face.

"Okay, he's gone now!" he exclaimed, bored, and made his way into the kitchen, where you were sitting with a cup of coffee or something while scrolling on your phone. "Don't open the door for that guy if he shows up again," he said, grabbing a cold Sprite from the fridge. You just looked at him with a displeased look. He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'll make sure that he and no one else shows up after today. But, I'm just saying that in case it still somehow happens."

Thanos then opened the can and drank from it while he continued to watch your face from the side. Eventually, he sat down next to you, although, to his dissatisfaction, that didn't seem to get your attention. "Hey, you want to go on a date?" He asked, and you weren't sure how many times he asked you that by now. You kept scrolling on Instagram. "You know my answer to that."

Thanos continued to grin hopefully. "Yes?" he asked and then watched you disappear out of the kitchen with your cup of coffee in your hand - probably to your room. "You should be glad that I'm even asking you! Other girls would die for..." he muffled towards the end before he stopped talking entirely once he realized that you weren't giving him a reaction.

Maybe, I should just go back to sleep, he thought to himself dejectedly, unable to believe that he had actually better chances with you in dreams with pink elephants and breakdancing dogs.

[theereina]

New Year, Same Bullshit

Pairing: Toxic Babydaddy!Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +3.8K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, use of pet names (Daddy, Mama, baby girl, lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), oral (male receiving), P in V, Toxic Dom!Terry *if you squint and turn your head*, cum play *sort of*, brattiness galore, facials *no spa*🤭

A/N¹: This is a single one-shot with no planned sequels.

A/N²: I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by ME (theereina). Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥

ding

Terry: I hope all is well. My mom told me she has TJ. Hope you enjoy yourself tonight.

Me: I hope I do, too.

Terry: I was thinking about something earlier.

Me: ???

Terry: New Year, new us?

I paused for a second in disbelief. I knew this man was not trying this bullshit tonight. I guess this year's motto was “new year, same bullshit”. I sat there for a second and stared at myself in my vanity's mirror.

I could feel the petty in me rising. I texted Terry back with nothing but ill intentions. “New year, new us”, huh?

Me: Nah. New year, and new dick. Cheers to 2025!🥂✨

I waited until I knew Terry saw the message and blocked his number. I knew I was pushing Terry's buttons but oh well.

2 hours later

“Lele, ain't that Terry?” asked one of the women who came out with me and my best friend.

“Aww, hell. Lele, it is him. He's coming this way, and he looks pissed!” my best friend, Tyler, said.

“I don't care. What he gonna do? Whoop me!” I laughed out loud, spinning to see Terry barreling through the crowd.

I stopped dancing when I saw his face. Maybe, I shouldn't have said that.

“Terry, wait? I didn't mean—,” I said as soon as he stood before me.

“Nah… You meant that shit. New dick, huh?” Terry said, eyeing me down.

As much as I was scared for my life, I was hoping that this night would end the way I wanted it to. Fuck! I needed this.

“You think that shit was funny? Ty, y'all here alone, or did she come with someone?” he asked, looking towards Tyler.

“Terry, I didn't come h—,” I started to speak.

Terry's eyes darted back to meet mine.

“Love, I wasn't talking to you. I asked Tyler. When I want you to speak, I'll let you know.”

“Oh, shit. He not playing with her ass,” said one of the women in the group.

“Yes, we came alone. No, she didn't come here with anyone. I promise,” Tyler said, looking at me.

“I can't believe you're doing this shit right now,” I mumbled under my breath.

“What did you say? I couldn't hear you,” Terry spat, glaring down at me.

“Nothing,” I whispered.

“Yeah, that's what the fuck I thought. Enjoy yourself, sweetheart. I'll be waiting for you when you get home,” he said, holding the back of my head and kissing my forehead.

“Huh? You don't live with me,” I uttered in confusion.

“I still have my key, and I pay the bills there. Don't I? Oh, okay then. Like I said, I'll see you when you get home,” he said, letting me go.

“Oh, and do me a favor, love. Don't drink too much. I need you alert and responsive tonight,” Terry said, walking away.

As I watched Terry leave, I felt my heart racing. There was no calming down from this.

“Fuck me!” I yelled quietly as soon as Terry was out of sight.

“Girl, what the fuck did you do this time?” Tyler asked me, handing me a drink.

I looked at the fruity concoction like it was poison. I knew this sugary ass shit wasn't going to do anything to call my nerves. I shrugged my shoulders and swallowed the drink in two full gulps.

“Damn! That man finna tear yo' ass up. Ain't he?” one of the women asked while laughing.

“You don't even know the half. Tyler, can you keep yo’ godson tomorrow? I got a funny feeling I'm not gonna be straight after tonight,” I asked Tyler, searching her eyes for sympathy.

“Yeah, I got my baby. Now, you just tell me what the fuck you did,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, Ty. I think I fucked up this time,” I said, shaking my head. I pulled her over to one of the couches in the section, hoping that I could talk to her privately.

As I proceeded to tell Tyler what happened, I could see her face shift from concern to amusement.

“Why do you look like you wanna laugh?” I asked when I finished.

“Uh, sis… How did he know where you were?” Tyler asked, looking at me with concern.

“I don't… I don't know. How the fuck did he know I was here?” I asked, questioning myself more than Tyler.

4 nerve-racking hours later

I had literally spent all night trying to come up with a reason not to come home. I knew that whatever was on the other side of that door was going to be— something memorable.

I made sure to stop drinking hours ago. His “alert and responsive” remark was a warning that only WE understood. My insides were screaming because I knew Terry had a way of breaking me down and putting me back together again in the most— sensual and pleasurable way. Yes, there may be pain involved, but I couldn't care less.

I was well aware of what came with provoking Terry. At this point, it was a game for me, and my prize was always the best dick a girl could ever ask for. That was definitely the one thing I missed about having Terry living at home— the in-house, on-demand dick. Always hard, and always ready.

It was a little after 4 in the morning. I was pushing my luck coming in this late, but I might as well fully enjoy what may be my last night out for a while. I was either about to get fucked up, be fucked, or both.

After realizing that Terry's truck was nowhere to be found, I scanned the streets to see if he parked there instead. Nothing.

I reluctantly began walking to the door. How was this possible? Even the walk up to my front door was causing me anxiety. Every goddamn step felt like I was approaching the gates of hell. Was I really letting this man make me feel like a child coming home when they know they're getting an ass whooping? Yes.

I slowed my steps and began putting my hair in a ponytail. If it's one thing I knew, this ponytail may save my life. Then again, it may do the opposite. Aww, fuck!

I tossed my heels and purse into one hand while adjusting my keys with the other. Placing the key into the keyhole, I quietly unlocked the door. I paused before opening the door, praying that Terry wasn't standing on the other side.

Sliding inside as quickly as I could, I tiptoed inside the house and locked the door. From what I could see, he wasn't in the living room or the kitchen. I took a deep breath and relaxed my shoulders. I stood quietly in an attempt to possibly hear if he was somewhere in the house. I flattened my back against the door since I was still unsure of my surroundings.

From somewhere to the right of me, I heard something dart towards me. I turned around in a panic. Right as I was about to make a run for it, I saw that the culprit had a tail. I WAS ABOUT TO RUN FROM MY DAMN CAT!!!

I took a deep breath and leaned down to pick up the cat. But… As soon as my knees hit the floor, I felt a hand on the back of my head. I screamed out in shock, startling the cat.

“Oh, nah. Shit that shit up! I told you I would be waiting for you. Didn't I?” Terry growled, pulling me by my ponytail.

Like I said. The ponytail was a gift and a curse.

“Just…” I yelled, grabbing his hands in my hair.

“Touch me again. I dare you. Imma do more than tie yo’ ass up!” Terry said, holding my face to look up at him.

“Terry, I'm sorry. I was just jo—!” I started, letting my hands fall beside me.

“That was supposed to be a joke. Ha! We gone see what's funny in a minute.” Terry said, letting go of my hair.

As much as my brain was telling me to run, my pussy was begging me to stay even more.

Terry's hand wrapped around my forearm. “Stand up!” he barked.

“Please, I said I’m—,” I said, standing to my feet.

“If I have to tell you to shut up again…” Terry said, pulling me to face him.

I used the back of my hand to wipe the tears that were now falling.

“I hope you don't think those tears are stopping shit. Ain't no sense in crying. You did this to yourself, Alicia. I was trying to be nice to you, but you just don't know when to leave me the fuck alone,” Terry said, stepping closer to me.

I gulped as he glared at me, blinking slowly. Every breath he released was hot and heavy— weighed down in anger. It's as if he was battling to control himself.

“You thought that shit was so cute. Didn't you? I bet you and your little friends had a good laugh at that, huh?” Terry said, leaning down and resting his forehead on mine.

“You can speak, now. Choose your words wisely,” he said. He straightened his posture and stood to his full height, holding his hands in front of him.

“I'm sorry. I didn't tell anyone but Tyler. I swear,” I spat out as quickly as I could.

Terry paused to look at me. His eyes darkened in lust and anger. I let my gaze drop to the floor.

“Nah, you know better. Eyes on me at all times, right?” Terry demanded.

“Yes,” I said, trailing my eyes up Terry's body. I let my gaze linger on the bulge that had grown in his jeans.

“Unh unh. You gone see that in a minute. Look at me, Alicia!” Terry said, forcing me to look at him.

I rubbed my forearm nervously. I waited for Terry to say something else. Instead, he turned on his heels and sat on the couch.

Leaning back on the couch, he placed his arm over the back. “Better yet. Come here and bring your phone with you,” he said, motioning for me to approach him.

I slowly picked up my phone from the floor and walked up to him. I stood between his legs. He dropped his gaze to the floor, letting me know to kneel. I kneeled in front of him while never breaking eye contact.

“Good girl. Thank you for finally listening. Give me your phone.”

Handing him my phone, my mind immediately started to race. I knew if this man went through that phone. My ass was grass!

“Terry, wait!” I yelled, stopping him.

“Oh, you must be hiding something. You are crazy as hell if you think I can't go through a phone that I pay for every month. However, that's the least of my concerns right now,” he scoffed, tossing the phone beside him on the couch.

“I just… I… I know that… if…,” I stuttered.

“Don't even worry about it, love. Because after tonight, it won't matter what nigga is in that phone. You'll know who you belong to. I can promise you that.”

Terry leaned forward, grabbing the side of my face firmly. I gasped in anticipation.

“I don't understand why you choose to play with me, baby girl. Here I am asking for my family back, and your ass wants to play these childish ass games.”

“Terry, baby. I—,” I said before he placed his hand around the front of my throat. I instantly shut my mouth.

“Look at that! How sweet. I didn't even have to do it, and you knew.” Terry said, biting his bottom lip. He moaned as he watched me. He was more than thrilled with my natural obedience.

Moving his hand to cup my chin, he let his thumb trace the silhouette of my bottom lip.

“Mmm… Daddy misses these lips. The way they look, the way they feel— everything!”

Terry's hand let go of my chin as he sank back into the couch. I watched fervently as he undid his belt. Making quick work of his pants, he freed himself from the confinement of his boxers.

I eyed his dick, waiting for his permission to even touch it.

“I told you you'd get to see it. Unfortunately, touching it ain't an option. At least not right now, especially with that foul mouth of yours.”

My face dropped in disbelief as I began to pout.

“What you will get to do is watch me. Watch me while I… uh… make you wish it was you handling this for me.” Terry laughed while lifting my head back up to watch him.

So, it begins. This is the part where he breaks me.

Terry wrapped his hand firmly around the base of his dick. “All you had to do was behave, but you just can't. I bet you'll be on your best fuckin’ behavior after tonight.”

Terry's hand stroked the length of his shaft. His contentment was already evident as small droplets of precum began to leak from his tip.

I rested my hands on my thighs, pressing my fingertips into the cushion of my thighs. I was fighting the urge to lick what I felt was mine; however, I knew that wouldn't end the way I wanted. Licking my tongue out, I let it slide across the flesh of my bottom lip.

Terry grunted in response. My eyes darted from his dick to his face. His eyes were low and wanton. He was just as needy as I was. Our gazes locked in fervor, passing a mutual message that intensified the salacious hunger between us.

Terry's hand sped up and tightened around his head. His grunts grew deeper and more primal. He was feigning to cum.

I tilted my head and lowered my gaze, pleading with my eyes. Sitting here with my hands in my lap wasn't enough for me. I whined while wiggling my hips, trying to feel something to help the ache between my legs.

“Fuck! You got 3 minutes to make me cum or else!” Terry said, leaning up and grabbing the back of my head.

He didn't even have to finish his movement. My mouth was on his dick before he could even grab me. I was horny, I was needy, and most importantly, I was hungry.

I took all of Terry in on a single inhale not giving a fuck about my throat. I needed this. I let saliva fall from my mouth and down the sides of his shaft. Pulling back, I hollowed out my cheeks and created a vacuum around the head of Terry's dick.

“Ahhh, fuck. You… you always know… ugh.. exactly what to do, baby girl. That's right. This dick is yours, mama. Ahhh, shit. Keep going, baby,” Terry said, stroking the side of my face.

I moaned around his dick. Swallowing his full length again with pride, I smiled around him. Opening my mouth slowly, I sunk down further until my nose hit the patch of hair he grew there. Relaxing every muscle in my throat I let him sit in the back of my throat while I hummed and moaned in pleasure. This… this was the ache I was seeking. This was what I wanted to feel— the burn and stretch of this very moment.

I pulled off of Terry with a pop, watching as a thin string of saliva and cum fell from my lips. Grabbing him mid-shaft, I began to jerk his dick. Fully consumed by my own pleasure, I failed to immediately take notice of Terry's silence.

I looked up to see Terry's eyes closed as he released a slew of low, rough moans. I instantly put my mouth back on him, focusing solely on his head. Using my tongue to massage his tip, I was hoping to push Terry over the edge.

Watching him closely, I marveled at the sight before me. His head had rolled back on his shoulders, and his bottom lip was tucked in between his teeth. As I felt Terry's dick begin to pulse, I took him into the back of my throat again. I wanted every drop of him, and I was going to make sure I got it.

Letting him paint the back of my throat was the only thing on my mind. I started sucking Terry like my life depended on it. His hand gripped the back of my head, but even that didn't stop me. I rested my hands on Terry's legs for support as I put my all into it.

As soon as I felt like the first drops of cum were about to make an appearance, Terry grunted and pulled me back. His dick fell from my mouth and into his own hands. Leaning my head back, Terry stroked himself twice before erupting— all over my face.

I closed my eyes, feeling the warm sticky substance coat my eyelashes along with my forehead, nose, and lips. I exhaled as I thanked God that I closed my eyes in time.

“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue!” Terry barked as I felt him moving around.

I opened my mouth and felt him push his dick inside again. Resting the full weight of his dick on my tongue, he told me to keep my mouth open.

“Smile!” he said as I heard a camera shutter.

Without a second thought, my eyes shot open.

“For memories. Adding it to the stash.”

Of course! That's what the fuck he wanted the phone for. I pulled back, letting his dick fall out. “I told you that you're mine. Didn't I?” he said, leaning up.

“Oh, don't think we're done either. Stand up!” he nodded.

I rose to my feet, wobbling. As I stood before Terry, I went to wipe my face. His hand reached out to grab my hand.

“Nah, baby girl. You gone wear that shit with pride. I plan on marking my territory in more ways than one. There will be no creampies tonight,” he warns, standing from the couch.

“But Terry I—,” I said.

His arms wrapped around my waist as he lifted me. Wrapping my legs around him, he turned to walk towards the hallway. My body practically melted into him as I clung to his back. I began to whine and moan while kissing his neck.

“Daddy missed this pussy— MY pussy,” Terry moaned as his hands pushed the strapless dress I wore up past my stomach. The thin fabric began bunching up.

“Ahhh, mmmm. Fuck!” I moaned, placing my hands around his neck.

As we approached the bedroom door, Terry didn't even reach to open it. Instead, he opted for kicking it open.

“Don't worry. I'll fix it!” he grinned.

Walking to the foot of the bed, he laid me directly in the middle. He stepped back and completely undressed himself. God Lord, I missed this body.

I leaned up and began kissing and touching his abdomen. Moving my hands out of the way, Terry's hands went to the neckline of the dress as he leaned over me. In one swift move, he tore the top of the dress in half, continuing to tear the fabric from my body until nothing was left.

While I was preoccupied with my own thoughts, he pushed me down onto the bed. Climbing onto the bed and settling between my thighs, he wrapped my legs around his waist.

Looking at me with the most sinful smirk, he entered me in one thrust. I gasped out in both pain and pleasure. We hadn't had sex in over four months. The feeling of him stretching my pussy out sent my eyes rolling into the back of my head.

“You gone feel me tonight, baby. All of me,” he said, leaning down to kiss my neck.

Pulling every inch of his dick out to the tip, he inserted himself again. He was clearly on a mission.

Thrust after thrust…

“So, you gone give my pussy away? Huh? Answer me when I'm talkin' to you!” he said, thrusting into me harder.

“No!” I yelled as my back arched off the bed.

Using nothing but his body weight, Terry flattened me out again. “No, ma'am.” He said, pulling out to thrust back in again. “The fuck you moving for? You gone take this dick. It's yours, ain't?” he asked, kissing my chin.

“Yes, this… this is… ahhh, fuckkk… This is my dick!” I screamed out as he pounded into me. Every thrust knocked the syllables from my lips.

“That's right. This your dick, baby. All of it! Every fuckin' inch, mama! Now, what you gone do with it, huh?” he growled in my ear, taunting me.

“I'm… gonna… fuckin'… take… it!” I whimpered. His thrusts began to pick up speed.

“Good girl, and you gone let me cum wherever I want to, right?” Terry coaxed, hitting my g-spot over and over again.

“Yes!” I yelled, clawing at Terry's back.

I was so close to cumming, and this shit felt so damn good. Hell, I'd even let him cum on my face again.

“I knew my baby would. Who pussy this is, mama?” he asked, smirking.

“Yours! For… ever! Terry, please! Can… ohhhh… can I cum?” I begged as I felt my climax quickly approaching.

“You better wet this dick up, too. Come on, baby.” Terry uttered softly, talking me through it. “Oouu… look at my baby,” he said, fucking me through my orgasm.

“Terry!” I moaned out, digging into his forearms.

“Look at that shit! Wet as fuck!” he said, watching himself slip in and out.

“Yes! Shit! Ohhh, fuck!” I gasped as he slowed his strokes.

“Yeah! Just like that. You ready? Tell Daddy that you're ready,” he groaned clearly at his peak.

“Please, Daddy! Cum for me!” I yelled.

Terry pulled out, aiming straight for my pussy and stomach. I watched intently as ropes of cum landed on my lower abdomen and the mound of my pussy. Using his dick, Terry began to mix the remainder of his cum into my own. He beamed as he created a disgusting and sloppy mess between my legs.

“I wish you could see it, baby. It's so pretty,” he said, looking up. His eyes roamed over the entirety of my body, lingering on the areas covered in his cum. “You look so pretty, mama,” Terry praised.

“I know I do, and it's all because of you,” I said, pulling Terry in for a kiss.

Taglist: @episodes-ff @babybratzmaraj @persethegawd @pocketsizedpanther @writingsbytee @kimuzostar @confessionsofadramaqueenn @luvrsluxe @blackmoonchilee @meannaim @nayaesworld @msdmc1 @megamindsecretlair @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @mymindisneverhere @brattyfics @avoidthings @honeytoffee @peachbuttetfly @melaninadorned @theglamclosetsl @simplyzeeka @dxddykenn @charismablu @blackerthings @slutsareteacherstoo @vivaalenaa @becauseimswagman1 @keehendrixx @teeresaresa @beenathembo @inthekeyofshe @notapradagurl7 @blowmymbackout

This taglist is random and sort of thrown together. Sorry.😔

[divinedelusional]

how rafe would treat his gf on her period

rafe cameron x fem reader

word count: 796

warnings: menstruation, mentions of toxic relationship and period sex

a/n: yeah this is how rafe treats his girl on her period but also how he would be like in a relationship throughout the seasons? i got carried away, sorry not sorry

s1 rafe: sooo i feel like fratboy!rafe genuinely doesn't give a fuck, i don't even know if he would be capable of being in a relationship. i see him being involved with a girl but only for sex and he would only know she's on her period bc she would just text him that they can't meet today bc of it and he'd be like "uh huh cool" and would go jerk off

s2 rafe: here i think situation would be slightly different. i think our psycho bby could acc develop feelings for a girl, it would mostly be just sex but he could start falling for someone. so i think he'd fight a battle in his mind if he should come over to the girl's house and be there for her on her period or to completely neglect her. it's just he doesn't have a clue what to do and tbh he's occupied with other shit, he uses sex with her to forget. i think it's very similar to s1 rafe but with guilt and feelings creeping in (and obvious denial for this emotions)

s3 rafe: so okay we all know the shift from curtain bangs psycho rafey to buzz cut man of the house rafe who looked like he's getting his shit together. of course that means he's different when it comes to relationships. he still deals with a lot, but he finds you. and he kinda sees you as this light. a small light who he has to be very careful with so it won't go out. he is attentive to you. treats you right, but with some sort of distance and you don't blame him. he doesn't spend every day with you, he didn't even ask you to be his girlfriend yet, didn't make it official but he will and somehow you know it. when you're on your period you become quiet. you don't text him, but he finds out as he had a feeling that he should drop by your house. he finds you on your couch with a heating bag and cookies. you told him you weren't feeling well and he ordered you hot soup and made a quick run to pharmacy for some medicine. he still was clueless and thought you caught a cold. "rafe im not sick im just on my period" "oh" it's not like he avoids you, no. he visits you everday for the next four days but doesn't stay for long, always excusing himself with some meeting or business. you know he means the best for you but wish that he's going to be able to let you in soon. you're really patient with him, but start having doubts.

s4 rafe: is now fully committed to you. you talked to him how you really felt about this relationship. that you really cared and wanted to give him as much time as he needed, but also you couldn't waste it anymore waiting for him. and rafe realized that nobody else would have such patience for him. he was thinking about you a lot and he admitted to himself that you were the one. he made your relationship official and two months later you were living together. he was spoiling you, really. taking you on dates, buying you gifts and most importantly giving you his time. getting to know you, observing your daily habits, remembering stuff you said. your likes and dislikes. no wonder he became pussy whipped. and started to feel like he knows you better than yourself.

that's why when it's that time of the month you don't have to say anything. rafe knows. just by the way you whine when you wake up, he knows if you'd be able to get out of bed and get on with your day or you'd want to stay in bed cuddling, because he's your personal heater, makes back pain go away. gives you massages. cuddles with you all morning untill your stomach start to signal that it's time for some food. oh and he doesn't care about his schedule. he could clear it off, cancel the meetings, but he doesn't bother. his girl is the most important, his business associates don't even deserve a phone call on a day his girl is in pain. also he's not opposed to period sex at. all. orgasm is a great way to reduce cramps, so if that works for you and you want him to help you, he is the happiest to do so. if you're not comfortable with having sex these days he totally understands. wouldn't even thought of forcing you to do something, on your period or not. when he discovered that he has so much love in him, his only interest is to give it to you♡

dividers by: @bernardsbendystraws

tagging: @sugaraanddiesel @cherrylipglossss hope they'll enjoy it and @cameronsprincess bc maybe it will put a smile on her face♡

[writermani4c]

Me and the Devil | Count Orlok x Reader

summary: You're a nun at an isolated convent. He is in your mind, eating away your mind bit by bit, soon destroying the pillars of your faith. Until you have no choice but to surrender to him, he will destroy all that is necessary.

warnings: He's a vampire. Of course he doesn't have to play fair, does he? There is mind control and there are some rather bloody deaths. I don't think I'm really good with that, I don't think it's too heavy, but it's good that there's a warning.

:: We girls can't bear to see a vampire who is completely obsessed with a woman, who will spill as much blood as it takes to get her, and who has already fallen in love with her. I'm completely obsessed by Nosferatu, even though I couldn't get a screening where I live. This is basically my brain being eaten away by Bill Skarsgard's hunger… I'm always hungry for Bill, but at this point in time I could be kept in a secluded castle to give birth to all of his babies, and I mean that. I hope you enjoy this. By the way, good luck in 2024!

The high-pitched squeak penetrated the stones of the convent, seeping like moss into the soft, bumpy cracks in the porosity, and imitated the soft voice of a wanderer saying a prayer in a dead language, older than time. His understanding was forgotten by men, but that didn't silence him. That voice was still preserved in the air that surrounded you like a thick mantle covering a thick cotton habit, as light as the coat of a holy lamb, which covered you from head to toe in a sacred enclosure. 

Through the narrow window of his room, all that showed were the orange Carpathian mountain ranges in the middle of a mild autumn, with the taste of hot tea and the smell of a fire burning in the evening, when the temperature dropped at night.

The mountain ranges and that stone fortress, far from the convent and yet terribly close.

Every day, the castle seemed to move. When you weren't watching it with your stoic expression, it seemed to grow tentacles over its foundation and creep up slowly. Depending on the day, it seemed further away, with only the tip of its towers appearing between the hills. But when you were getting ready for bed, tucked up in the modest comfort of your little room and wrapped in the soft blanket of your nightgown, the castle seemed terribly close to you, so close that you could feel its evil aura as you raised your hand in a vain attempt to touch it. 

He was calling you. A strength, a terror, a hungry longing.

Come to me, my eternal beloved. 

Tormented, you choked on your own breath. The deep, seductive sound of that voice crept under your blankets at night, and under the modest garments of your nightgown, finding your soft, easy-to-creep skin. His touch was physical, even if you often groped your skin in search of those hands and found nothing but loneliness, and intimacy. So intimate that not even the devil himself, cruel and cunning, could emulate such evil in his attempt to corrupt the Lord Jesus in his trial in the desert.

It scared you.

The feeling of intimacy that belongs to something, that is lost until it is regained. That invisible hand, as well as the voice that only you heard, shook your sense of self and made you feel the narrow mattress slipping off your back, the thin blanket sliding off your body and your fear of dissolving as you floated above the bed. A demonic, ghostly vision, with your eyes rolled back in a trance that nothing and no one could stop.

You felt it, more intimately than you felt anything else, and that was scarier than any of the other traps in hell.

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— My child — greeted the voice on the other side of the wooden confessional booth. The only voice you could turn to in times of extreme need. Father Lengyel was an elderly authority in the convent, as was Mother Superior Illés. If it hadn't been for that, you wouldn't have had the courage to confide in him your greatest fears, seeking the reassurance of his gentle voice. — In your praiseworthy stillness, I can see that something is troubling you. You owe me your ordeal, child.

— Father, help me! — Tired and sleepless after a night awake, with your knees against the floor praying to ward off the tentacles of evil, you felt your eyes grow heavy as you saw the low, hunchbacked shadow of the priest. — I'm cursed. I didn't do anything about it, but I know that the shadow that haunts me was born with me, wrapped around me like an umbilical cord that has never been amputated. I feel it and sometimes I hear its impatience calling my name.

— Fear not, my child. No shadow of a curse is stronger than our Lord's mercy on your spirit, waking you up every morning with a breath of life.

But maybe it's not our Lord, you thought bitterly. You almost disbelieved that God would even work in your cause, probably deciding to wash his hands of you and leave you alone on your ordeal. This thought angered you, wondering how God, your holy God to whom you dedicated your time and efforts to serve with blind devotion, could leave one of his daughters helpless when the claws of the nefarious one threatened to entangle her? 

And anger, even though it was blasphemy with your Father, was easier to manage in your restless spirit than the fear that perhaps God hadn't let go of your hand. Perhaps he was there, following in your footsteps not long ago, weeping blood for not being able to do anything to prevent the evils that awaited you. Maybe there were forces greater than the salvation you blindly tried to reach like a child afraid of the dark.

That thought you swept from your mind, because if that thing was stronger than the Savior you were turning to, there would be no reason to be reluctant in its evil call.

— I beg you, Father, with all the infinite goodness of your being, pray for my soul. 

— I will, my child. You too, pray for wisdom and that the Lord, in his infinite love, will bring you comfort. 

When you left the confessional, you got down on your knees in front of the proudly erected altar. The suffering face of that poor man in his moment of greatest difficulty never comforted you, but inspired you. If even he, the son and Messiah, found the purpose to remain firm on the narrow road of faith, you too would find the strength to stay in the light. You would have to pass through that tortuous valley to have your healing.

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You weren't the youngest in the convent, but you weren't the oldest either. When you arrived, with your only bag with a few belongings and a photo of the home you grew up in, the home that always seemed unworthy of your torments about the terror that was trying to get its claws into you, there were older girls who took you in as a younger sister, teaching you the trade so that you could also teach those who came to the convent after you. This was the mission: you didn't serve God's pure purpose alone, but learned from your sisters so that you could teach others in a cycle that stretched out like an infinite patchwork quilt. 

Among his protégés, the young Agnes was the most cherished. So young and intelligent, she was your faithful dog in the convent corridors. Agnes, who came from a poorer and more literate family than yours, found comfort in listening to you read the Psalms, the book they were given to study. Agnes' chubby cheeks and earthy brown eyes reminded you of the child you would never have, the one you could never run your hand through and love. The Lord was merciful to you in giving you a sister to fill that void and you gave her all the attention you could. Your beloved Agnes sat next to you while you ate your lunch in silence. The soup was thinner, to save supplies for the harsh winter, and the bread was smaller. All deposits were saved and all fasting was done in summer and fall, because in winter your bodies' strength was tested by the ice that seemed to be trying to infiltrate your bones. They would have to eat better to survive until spring.

Next to him, young Agnes choked on her bread.

— Eat slowly. 

— Pardon me, sister! — She stopped eating, lowering her head as if she expected to be punished. You smiled, running your hand over your protégé's head. 

— Don't be like that. I'm talking for your own good, chew better, it also helps to fill your stomach.

The girl turned her face towards you with a soft, youthful smile. 

A low, loud sound caught their attention. It was as if the ceiling had broken, so you looked up in doubt, but it seemed as firm as ever. Surprised gasps and the sound of footsteps moving across the stone floor made you stand up and look around, at the shocked faces of your sisters. 

— Stay behind me, Agnes. — You stood in front of the girl, shielding her with your body, while you searched for the cause of the commotion among the others. 

Another thud made you find the source of the terror. Your older sister, a girl so genuinely kind that she wouldn't mind giving up her own shoes and going barefoot if she had to. Olga. Olga, who was so generous that she always presented the others with little embroideries on old linen handkerchiefs, making them priceless pieces. Olga who hugged you as soon as you arrived, immensely happy as if you were a relative she hadn't seen for years and who was returning home. Your beloved sister Olga's nose was covered in blood and her front teeth were in an equally miserable state. Her blue eyes were completely covered by dark pupils, making them animalistic as she looked around at the familiar faces until she stopped at you. 

She gritted her teeth painfully, teasing the veins in her neck. Olga no longer knew you. She didn't look at you like her younger sister, but with anger.

— Ungrateful! Damn you! — She pointed her slender, cocked forefinger, the knuckles seeming to ache with the effort. — Ungrateful and  damned, unfortunate creature! Look what I do to what you love so much, look what I do to the object of your efforts!

Olga moved her face away from the table enough to almost fall backwards, gripping the edge of the table with her fingers tightly, before putting all her strength forward and, with a hollow sound of something breaking, smashing her nose against the wooden table. The noise tore you apart. Young Agnes' arms wrapped tightly around your waist as you pushed her back. 

Mother Illés rushed into the dining hall. 

She gave you an appeasing look and you understood. With agility, you gathered all the younger girls, totally terrified, and asked them to follow you out while Olga, surrounded and supported by her older sisters, screamed:

— Love me! Devote yourself to me! Command me if you wish, but don't ignore me, my beloved, don't deny me, for I am your lord and savior! I am the master of your pure and tormented soul, my beloved! 

But you, terrified, denied his call once again. You covered your ears as you led the girls into the courtyard outside. The dry autumn wind enveloped you, your voices, but did nothing to muffle the terror in your minds. Little Agnes was still wrapped tightly in your body and soon the others followed suit, seeking warmth in your shivering, freezing body. Concentrating on them, on reassuring them, took your mind off the torturous thought that, yes, he was impatient.

All those years of “tranquility” were his gift, his way of making you surrender voluntarily. But he was lonely. He was hungry. 

Now he controlled Olga's body. 

But not just her. 

That same night, while Olga was tied to her bed under the watchful eye of Mother Illés, Annabeth began to dance as she blew out the candles. You didn't see it, you were busy with your chores, but the others saw it and told you about it in sad, frightened voices. Annabeth, so young and playful, began to twirl around and the others thought she was just playing. The girl liked to play games, hiding pine cones under her pillows and little flowers in the sleeves of her habits. 

She spun around mesmerized, spinning faster and faster and more violently. Her feet seemed bewitched and she suffered without even being able to move her mouth to do so, her teeth clenched in a painful grind as her jaw unhinged. The candles on the altar grew, fueled by something supernatural and unworthy, dancing along with young Annabeth.

That macabre dance ended in a tableau and the flames touching the young woman's habit. The fire consumed her without anyone being able to put it out; no amount of water could stop the flames. They consumed Annabeth until there was nothing left. In her death, she said nothing, but tearing her clothes to get rid of the fire, her name was torn into the soft skin of my body. Her name was everywhere, written with love, sorrow and anger. Like a love-hate letter, he wrote to you through the skin of an innocent girl. 

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You hadn't slept a wink for three nights. 

At the slightest sign of unconsciousness, as you blinked your eyes a little more slowly, it was as if he was lurking there waiting to take you, and this made you resist even though your body could barely stand.

The mother didn't let you take part in the funeral, allowing you only a brief farewell before you were taken to your chambers to rest. 

You didn't want to rest.

Even so, you didn't have the strength to move. Perhaps it was tiredness or apathy, the feeling that all your efforts were useless.You lay there in your narrow bed, watching the day fade away through the shadows on the wall.

The night was his territory. 

Night was when he hid in the wind and entered his room.

Even though he wanted to, there was no voice in his throat to scream and a hot tear ran down his left eye. 

The door to his room opened and, to his relief, Father Lengyel entered his room. The black cloak swirled solemnly around him, like something divine coming to his rescue.

— What ails you, my dear!

— A large, slender hand, smelling of scrubbed earth, touched his face. There was a certain softness to it, even though the ice in your palms made you sigh with the thermal shock. — My poor little lamb! 

The man held your face lovingly, with such care that you simply let go, allowing yourself to cry in dismay at his attentive care. Father Lengyel, so small and twisted, sat on the edge of your bed. A candle burned on the chair on the other side of the room, the glow of the fire casting shadows on the wall next to your bed and leaving you cloaked in that lonely corner. Father Lengyel kissed your cheek, with those closed, dead lips, so cold they made you shiver.

— Father!

— Poor creature!

— My shadow is growing. — You confessed, leaning your face on the old man's hand. — My shadow consumed poor Olga and Annabeth, casting them into the valley of the storm. 

Father Lengyel pulled the blanket away from your body and, in the narrow space that barely fit a body, he lay down with you. Your eyes widened as the man pressed himself against your body. The man you had always seen as a loving and attentive father, a listener incapable of the slightest judgment, lay beside you with the warmth of a lover. 

— You curse us all, my sweet. — His mouth curved into a smile that only reflected darkness. — Everyone, everyone, everyone. My eyes, so blessed with the beauty of your soft skin and childish eyes, your sweet mouth and the shaggy strands of your eyebrows, became the object of his dark admirer's envy and, look, what he did to me.

In the short distance between your faces, that distance you wanted to increase at all costs, you could make out the old man's wrinkled features. His withered cheeks, the corners of his eyes creased by years and years of study and service to the church. His thinning hair was pearly white on his straight head, with little spots like freckles. The eyes, previously blue, weren't there. 

In their place, there was the emptiness of two hollow holes whose darkness seemed to feed with pleasure. 

The priest smiled in her direction.

— Smile, my dear. Who else in the world would be as adored and cherished as you? What other soul would be as worthy of all the fascination of eyes that have seen the rise and fall of empires as the rising and setting of the sun? There are worse ways to live. In complete ignorance, never seen and never remembered, gradually rotting away like this old man. 

In an unknown breath, you felt the instinct to fight with the same strength as the archangels as you sat up in bed, your body trembling from the effort. The priest continued to lie there, moaning with satisfaction as he enjoyed the smell of your hair against the pillow where you had shed your tears. 

He was totally possessed. The evil had taken hold of the most benevolent man you've ever had the pleasure of knowing, save only his own father, a man so generous that he gave up his beloved daughter to the care of a convent without ever doubting his desires to follow a holy life. All was lost.

You got out of bed, your legs wobbly as you dragged yourself out of the room. There were few lit candles and a long corridor. Carefully, you hugged your body and left your quarters, dreading the next demonic sight you would encounter on your way.

The convent seemed more alive than ever. A complete organism. The walls moved as it breathed and guided you in silence, the cold accompanying you like a guardian, a raven on your sullen shoulders. The moon was high in the sky, its pearly glow illuminating what not even candle flames could touch. And you walked, leaning on the walls, groping for balance. In the dining hall, where Olga's blood was embedded in the wood of one of the tables, you saw the shadows of the feet of all your beloved sisters and your devoted mother.

They all floated solemnly, with ropes around their necks. They all looked at you with pupils consumed by darkness and wide smiles, so big that they seemed to rejoice in your presence. 

— My beloved! — cried Clara. 

— Beacon of my darkness! — said Lucia. 

— Don't you see, my beloved? 

With dread, you walked around the tables, looking into their faces. Every single one of them. The rope wasn't taut, they were floating under the invisible force that kept them alive only for a brief moment. Just long enough for you to see them, to remember their names and their faces, their voices, their lives and their untouchable faith. Because they, like your Savior, had no power to stop the terrors you were cursed with at birth.

As soon as your cry marked his arrival in this rotten, petty and cheap world, he also felt the pain in his chest, where his lungs were supposed to work. Your soft cry marked the raw, lifeless gasp of the thing that woke up to take in its big, slender hands what was rightfully its: that poor soul, which had never found a single day's peace, shrouded in the melancholy of that fateful encounter. 

Nothing could stop her soul from touching him, much less his emptiness from possessing her soul.

It was a perfect fit, an unspoken agreement between heaven and hell. God, all merciful, gave you up for the greater good. You were eternally linked. 

And your sisters, mother and father paid the price for coming between the two of you, for taking you away from your true home and your true master. They filled your days with their miserable little lives, with miserable knowledge, with miserable privations for such... miserable glory. 

— I have set you free, my beloved. I have loosened the nails that bound you to your cross. — Murmured the mother, with jubilant eyes, cheeks streaked with sweet tears. Your stern and beneficent mother. — My obsession is the key to this filthy, worthless prison. Come, darling, and enjoy with me all the pleasures you've been denied. Come quickly, my beloved, put an end to my loneliness.

His shadow has grown over you, outside in the courtyard.

— Spare them! I beg you! — Her voice roared over the tearful smiles of her sisters. Young Agnes wiggled her legs, looking at you with that untouched childish gaze, as if she were throwing herself into dense fluffy clouds and not into the abyss of death, into the blackness of darkness. — Spare them and I'll follow you without looking back. I will never desire anything other than your company, nor will I follow any other path than the one your feet once trod.

Your sisters' laughter exploded through the high ceiling, laden with a mockery that didn't belong to them.

Bewitched, they all looked down at you with equal dark amusement, their voices blending together like a spiral that drained the strength from your legs. 

— Don't you understand yet, my holy lamb? — Smiled sweet Agnes. — There's no bargaining. Whether they live or die, you will still be mine.Even in death, I will pull you back and chain you to me. I myself have suffered many years of being bound to the prison of my desires for you, waiting for you for countless years, feeling the weight of your rejection, cruel lover. 

— But you love me, don't you?

— Every part of me to every part of you, my sweetness. 

— So give me these gifts. Spare my beloved sisters, my fellow human beings, those sweet women with pure hearts who have guarded me long enough for you to come and take your rightful possession. They are not guilty, but guardians. — On your knees, you clasped your hands to your chest, begging the devil for mercy. — I know I wasn't good to you, I was insensitive to your call, but they are not to blame.You'll have all my devotion if you spare them, but if you kill them, even though you have my body and my spirit, you'll never have a drop of my attention. 

The silence of the souls hanging from the ceiling of the convent refectory echoed their inconsolable weeping.Thick tears and a plea so strong that it could make the souls turn over in their graves. 

The doors opened in a rush, letting the cold wind enter the dining hall. 

For the first time, under the ethereal light of the moon, as if in a macabre mixture of dream and nightmare intertwined by the thin veil of unconsciousness, you saw it.Not its aura or its agonized call, you saw the creature with your own eyes. 

You, who know so little about men, had never seen such a figure. 

So tall that you had to stoop to pass through the door that you would walk through without any difficulty.Eyes so deep that no light could reach them. A face hardened by the spectre of death, with a long nose and a thick moustache of a deep shade of black.He entered the sacred ground with equal parts ease and pain, each step a necessary torture to reach the object of his desire. The soul he so coveted in his millennial solitude, forgotten by the world, completely abandoned under the promise of a single soul that the heavens did not claim, a soul he could corrupt at will. 

Yours to devour, he thought at first, perhaps resentful that he was also chained to a lowly mortal, a wandering and very basic creature. Yours to torment, he thought, when you were very young and saw his shadow in your room for the first time. Yours to worship, he realized now, pulling her by her bare arms to stand up.

The creature, hungry for something, for some compensation for its endless loneliness, brought its face close to his and, with a touch of malice, stuck out its tongue, licking the length of his tears with its cold, inhuman breath. 

— I thought you'd wait for me in your habit, my beloved.I was particularly looking forward to it. — He lowered his cold, vile gaze, delving into the shape of your body beneath the nightgown with which you were forced to rest, a fabric so thin of light cotton that it hung down your body, revealing through the worn nature of the fabric the color of your stiff nipples against the fabric. He gasped with pleasure. — But what unparalleled pleasure it is to see you in such intimate attire, my eternal obsession. 

His hands, holding her face, were huge, with large, aged nails. Nails that would have dug into the earth to escape the grave. Their coldness was uncomfortable, but, given the horrors in your mind, you found yourself accepting their touch as a shred of comfort.

It destroyed your sanity, that it would at least give you the soothing balm of a caress.

— Please! — you sighed with a breath, a breath as anguished as it was tired. 

Your hands touched his, your eyes full of life and fear threatened his darkness with such a benevolent request, something the creature had never witnessed. 

Those like you, mortals, used to beg for mercy on your own life, on your knees and with the greatest promises of riches and pleasures.And here you were, a soul who would never reach heaven, asking for mercy for others when it was your fate that was at stake.

How he loved you! How he hated you!

— Treating it as my personal gift and demonstration of my esteem, these women live by my ability to have mercy on the requests of your heart. — He approached your warmth, the steady rhythm of your heartbeat, the salt of your feverish skin. All his vitality was more than banal desire, he was madly fissured by every cell of his anatomy, every rudimentary bit of his mortal Anatomy, and so doomed to the horrors of putrefaction. — My eternal living flame, how it tormented me not to be able to touch it. How it torments me right now to feel the softness of your skin. 

The creature's eyes mapped your face, his eyes so vivid and striking in color, the visage on your skin, the softness of his mouth as you breathed audibly, so bruised by fatigue that you didn't even budge when he wrapped you in his arms like a bruised little bird. Her soft sigh, nesting her head against his shoulder, was the fuel for him to release the women from their ropes, gently lowering them until their feet touched the ground.

— As long as you live, my ladies, be the witness of my triumph in having my sweet beloved in my arms for eternity.

He lowered his face in your direction, the ancient smell on his clothes made you scratch your nose. 

The texture of his mustache was thick. When his funeral lips touched yours, you tried to resist. Never before have you felt the pleasure of a passionate kiss or a love that took your breath away. But he knew what he'd been waiting for, holding you tightly by the back of your head, wrapping himself around you menacingly as his mustache scratched and skin immaculate from his face. His lips were hard, demanding and hungry.

His mouth ate you as his last hope, the last of pleasures and torments, a feast for a dying man.

The exchange, life and death, touching each other for the first time ignited an impulse in you. The impulse that matched his kiss, because that was the deal. You gave in, letting your lips submit to the kiss. Your body was surprised as you gasped with pleasure at corresponding with him, stimulated by the passion with which he held you. The human body is capable of many bargains to continue resisting.

And you, who had resisted for so long, gave in to that bittersweet feeling of surrender, feeling it take against your body.

Her body gradually sank into the feeling of being supported. As her dark lover's lips devoured hers, the world became a darker and darker place, the hiss of the wind seeping into her ears like spilled poison.  Between soft gasps, feeling the creature suck on his lips, unable to be completely satiated, his body gave in to the strain, falling into a powerful sleep. Realizing that you no longer corresponded with him, he walked away, looking at her with apprehension. His right hand, large and bony, rested on his chest. 

The beating of his heart was quiet, yet powerful. Each beat rumbling softly against the bones of his chest. 

Under the gaze of the bewitched nuns, he disappeared with the night, carrying with him the only one with whom he could share his eternal night.

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[higuchisora]

Honestly, I was always under the impression that Vander parented them "indirectly", if that makes sense. Like, Vander parented Vi, and Vi took those lessons and parented the others with them, because Vander simply didn't have the time to do so himself, and Vi was basically his mini-me.

Even prior to season 2, when I saw how the previous League bio for Warwick, implied his only memory of his past life was Powder (it says all he remembers is a little girl screaming a name- aka Powder screaming for Vi), that kind of confused me. Because on one hand, yes they're both his daughters and it's his final on-screen moment in season 1, but on the other, it felt thematically odd.

Like, he's supposed to be "dead"/unconscious by then. So wouldn't it make more sense if his final memory is of Vi screaming and crying over him? Also, considering Powder wasn't even crying over Vander- it's weird to me that his final memory is about an experience he isn't really a part of. It's Vi and Powder's scene, not Vander's and Powder's or Vander's and Vi's, so why would we want that to be his only memory?

Safe to say, as much as I thought it was sweet that they had a moment of recognition in season 2 (though I do have to wonder why seeing him like that didn't trigger Jinx at all), it definitely felt off to me. Especially since we never got to see Powder/Jinx have any real positive relationships with anyone other than Vi (before Silco), seeing her and Vander being so connected after his transformation didn't feel earned. Any affection she might've had for her previous family (and them for her) prior to Warwick nearly killing her is left entirely up to the audience to infer, which isn't really a good choice for a scene that you want to be emotional for EVERYONE. If his return is supposed to be inarguably a good thing, why leave the context behind it entirely ambiguous?

Especially when they already have a character set up for this exact kind of bittersweet moment: Vi. The focus on Jinx in the Dad Rescue Arc would make way more sense to me if Silco was the one being brought back. It really should've been Vi taking the lead on this one, which would've perfectly handled the "we don't know what to do with her anymore LMAO" thing Linke was talking about. (Honestly, I'm personally of the opinion that we shouldn't have had a Vander-Returns-Arc at all, considering the lack of time and simultaneous lack of substance both this arc and this entire season had, but I'd do anything to give Vi something to fucking do). OP is 100% correct, Vi should've been the one to grab Jinx and hit her with the "he was your dad too" line. Could've especially been potent if Jinx was all, "why couldn't it have been Silco?" about the whole thing, maybe even making digs at Vi at first when she tells her Vander's back (doing a "looks like crazy runs in the family" line or something), leading to some conflict between them at first, before Vi dishes out that line and perhaps a heartfelt "trust me just this once, just one last time" (or something to that affect). Which would work on Jinx IMO, because as we've established, as angry as she is with Vi, her willpower might as well be wet paper when it comes to trying to "hate" her sister.

If anything, this arc probably should've centered more around how the sisters still love each other, rather than their dads tbh. Vi obviously loves Vander, just as Jinx loves Silco, but I feel it's pretty clear they BOTH prioritize each other over everyone else, even still. Yeah yeah, Vi hit Powder, Yada yada- but think about it for a second. If all of this still happened, but this time it was, say, Mylo that did all this, blowing up their family etc. Etc.- do you seriously think Vi would have forgiven him for it? Do you think she'd desperately chase after him the way she chases Jinx, if Mylo ignored her orders and gotten Powder killed? This would be entirely different story, because Vi would've probably beaten Mylo to death, actually. She wouldn't have held back and walked away the way she did for Jinx in act 1 of season 2. She wouldn't be crying and bargaining with Mylo at that dinner party- she'd be straining against the ropes so she could strangle him with them. I'd say the same goes for anyone that isn't Jinx. Even Vander- even if she couldn't kill him, she'd never forgive him. He'd be dead to her in all the ways that matter.

Hence, this arc (imo) should've looked more like the sisters lowkey using Vander as a vehicle/excuse for their reunion. Like, Vi being so eager and happy to have Vander back because yes, she loves him and missed him, but also, it's one less reason for her to be mad at Jinx. One less reason her sense of duty would have to pit them against each other. If Vi could wave her hand and bring them all back, I'm convinced her first thought would be, "now we can move on, now I'm not obligated to oppose her." Because I genuinely believe the only thing really holding her back at this point is this idea of "I have to do what's 'right'." She was ready to move past this even before Vander came back as a furry, now she just has an excuse to show up unannounced at Jinx's door. And Jinx, too, being as obsessed with Vi's affection as she still is, would probably make some jabs and generally be distrustful, but the entire time she's still going along. The opportunity is too good to pass up. The chance to have Vi back is too tantalizing, is quite literally exactly what she's always wanted, even now, even after all this time. She'd take it, and as soon as she got a taste of that affection again, the soft smiles and the fond gazes, maybe even an instinctual pat on the shoulder, done before Vi even has time to consider if she should do that or not- it's a done deal. She'll still be insecure, in need of constant reassurance- but she'd be too eager to really be cautious, desperately seeking more and more of it.

As would Vi, who'd be over the moon to be able to hold a conversation with her sister again that wasn't laced with constant insults and hostility. It'd be almost like they're kids again, before everything went to hell in a handbasket, just them (and their dad) in a dingy old bar. As long as they ignored all the fur, of course.

TLDR basically I hijacked this to say I agree 100% with OP and think this arc was emotionally/thematically dodgy in several ways, which I explore a little in this reblog.

Jinx just never really liked Vander that much.

One of the things that, to me, seemed like a main theme in Jinx's arc in season 1 was the contrast between her two families, and how her switch from Vander's daughter to Silco's drastically changes the way her personality takes shape.

And I hate that the fandom, and now the show, too, has reduced Silco to an unhealthy influence in Jinx's life, pushing her towards her "bad" side (being Jinx) when, for all his flaws... he gives her a better childhood than she ever had with Vander. The first three episodes of the first season, to me, when I watched them, illustrate quite clearly that Powder feels unhappy in her family life. She is the most mal-adjusted of Vander's kids. Her older brother constantly berates her, and it's quite clearly having a big effect on her self-image. She later takes up the Jinx name and persona once she feels like she has become irredeemable as a person. Her other brother never defends her. Vi is the only one who is there for her, and they care for each other, but at the same time you can see there's still a little insecurity in their relationship. Vi is worried that maybe Powder is indeed too weak, and Powder worries that maybe Vi does indeed see her as a Jinx like her brother does.

And when it comes to Vander... he's just not really all that present in her life. And I don't blame him, the man has four kids to take care of, on top of keeping things running in the Undercity. It's clearly not his intention. But it doesn't change the fact that he's not there for Powder, not as much as she needs. To me, when I watched the first season, it seemed like Vander was a figure that felt far away to Powder, someone that she admired but also feared being completely herself around, and someone that she ultimately wished to be closer to than she actually was. It's worth mentioning that Jinx never says his name post time skip, and he is not a hallucination for her, not until Vi brings him up in the finale. Hell, Claggor is somehow a hallucination for her and he never even speaks. Vander was just not an influential figure in Jinx's life.

I always found the scene at the end of ep3 of s1 fascinating, because Powder never once mourns Vander. She never once cries for him and never once says his name. When she sees his dead body, she becomes shocked and starts crying, but it's not actually what breaks her. What breaks her is Vi's rejection. Had it just been that she accidentally caused the deaths of her brothers and adoptive father, she would not have crumbled mentally. It's Vi's rejection that destroys her. Now, of course, a little girl that cares more about her sister's affection towards her than the lives of her family members is kinda messed up, but that's what makes her character interesting. And we can see that that little girl doesn't go anywhere, as Jinx displays the exact same one-mindness about her sister. Because Jinx and Powder were never really that different, after all.

She is quite clearly placed with her back to Vander's body, that she never turns to, barely looks at, only enough to recognize him and see he's dead, and never says the name of. She's turned towards Vi, calling for Vi, crying because of Vi, and no one else. Heck, Vi had just been crying over his body a few moment ago. Vi is clearly distraught over his death. Vi is devastated, she literally punches her sister and curses her in the exact worst possible way she can, in the way she know it will hurt her sister the most. But Powder... she just honestly dgaf.

So to then hear Jinx say this line in season 2...

...is just straight up jarring. I was pulled out of the story when I heard this. This is Jinx saying this to Vi. This kinda makes it seem like it was Jinx who was most attached to Vander, or at least that she was just as attached to him as Vi was. Which is just not how things seemed in the story at literally any point until this one. And then season 2 continues this way, and somehow makes Jinx seem like the closest daughter to Vander. Flipping Warwick literally acts more attached to Jinx than Vander ever did to Powder. Like literally. Season 1 clearly sets up that Vi is the favorite daughter, and then they just... flip it?? Warwick cares more for Jinx and responds better to her than to Vi. It's actually insane. It's true they sanitized Jinx's character to hell and back this season, but this is a straight-up rewrite. I can't wrap my mind around why they did this. Plus, the entirety of act 2 they set up this weird and pointless arc of Jinx rekindling her relationship with Vander or something... and like literally her story was genuinely never about that.

(This COULD have been Vi's story. And that might have actually been cool, and made sense. Maybe Vi is the one who finds him, and she is the one who helps him calm down. And then she brings Jinx, and maybe Jinx is terrified because she was never that close to Vander, and then she literally killed him, so seeing him again is the last thing she wants. Maybe VI is the one who tells Jinx that "he was your dad, too", which would make A LOT more sense, and maybe that's the first time that Jinx thinks that oh, yeah, he was... And then maybe they have a cute moment where Vander forgives her. Or maybe she sees the state he's in right now and loses it completely. Or maybe they look at each other and they both see the monster each of them has become. And then maybe Vi looks down at the enforcer uniform she's wearing, and, privately, sees it too. Idk. The things we could have had.)

Silco was actually a good dad to Jinx, in all the ways that Vander wasn't. He gives her all the attention that she never had before. He not only listens to her, but actively asks for her side of the story. He never insults her, and he defends her against Sevika. He trusts her and gives her opportunities to prove she's capable. She goes from being one of four siblings, and getting lost in the shuffle and often ending up feeling forgotten and alone, to being the most important child, always taken into consideration and almost put on a pedestal by her dad (this, like, has to have cured some inner wounds, i think).

Silco understands Jinx better than any other character in the show, and I'm genuinely sad that we didn't get to see any flashback of Jinx growing up with him. Because their relationship was so unique, and so integral to Jinx's character and to the rest of the story, that the fact that we never get to see any other glimpse into their bond is just...

As a final note, I'd also like to add that I dislike when people say that Silco "groomed" Jinx. I think a much more realistic analysis is that he enabled her. And as for all the times he tells Jinx that Vi "betrayed her", that's just a reflection of his own trauma, and also because he fears that if Jinx knew Vi was alive, she would go back to her and leave him (which, considering what goes down in the s1 finale, not an unfounded fear). It's wrong that he does that, but it's not out of malicious intent (also tbh Jinx never really seems to believe him anyway).

And for all the people who say that Silco "turned Jinx into a terrorist" (dumbest people in this fandom fr, im sorry), that's just straight up not true. Powder was already like that. That is quite literally why Silco adopts her. Because he sees that she's like him. Silco would not have taken Powder in if he thought she was just a cute, innocent kid who was orphaned (to, what, raise her for years so that, MAYBE when she's older, she MIGHT be useful to him? when they meet he doesn't know she's the one that caused the explosion, he just knows that she's been abandoned by Vi). This is the kid who thought playing around with explosives was a fun hobby. This is the kid who giggled at the thought of hurting others. This is the kid who already suffered from explosive emotions. This is the kid who saw her father and her brothers dead, because of her, and all she cared about was whether her sister was mad at her because of it. This is the kid who throws herself at the first person she sees, someone who her sister hates, who is the cause of all this destruction, and with an anger that shocks most viewers, declares that Vi is not her sister anymore. She is livid in that one moment.

Powder already had it in her from the beginning. And it's also ok to like a character (and to write one) even if they are not 100% morally pure in every single way under the sun, cause that is quite literally what stories are for.

[kpop---scenarios]

Whispers Of The Night (6)

Pairing: Stray Kids x Reader

Genre: College! Au, Vampire! Au

Summary: You just want to live a happy life, but currently, that wasn't happening. It's not until you meet 8 strangers who turn your life upside down and you discover what they are.

Warning: Smut!! [Oral; f. receiving, unprotected sex, choking, spitting] 18+ ONLY. MDNI

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: as always, @skzdust , my savior, thank you for all your help!

Previous Chapters

Taglist: @steddie-steddie @hongtyong @purple-bell @deadpool15 @purplelady85 @xomakara @wife2straykidss @piscesrising01 @baby-stay92 @dwaekkiiracha @silly250 @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @satosugu4l @tsunderelino @iovecb97 @1810cl @lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @minh0scat @pixie0627 @50-husbands @yaorzu-blog @anskiiz @joyofbebbanburg @number1jeonginstan @skzooluvr @jisunglyricist @ambersnowxxx @ayyonoona @31maze13 @stay-tiny-things @thegingerthatwaited @hoesheez @stayatinykatsy @catlove83 @jeonginstulip @kaleigh-2002 @honeycombbaybee @hyuneyeon @flylis @kpop-choco @chloe-elise-2000 @eastjonowhere @stephanieeeyang @nightmarenyxx @0325tiny @m1nn1everse @igot7bulletproofmonstas

You didn't tell them you were leaving. You stared at what was supposed to be yourself in the mirror, but you felt like you couldn't barely recognize yourself. You had snuck out of the bathroom, glancing over at their table. They were completely immersed in a conversation so you took the opportunity to sneak out of the side door. The cool air felt nice on your skin, it helped cool down your rage, but the one thing you had a hard time wrapping your head around was why you were starting to feel so much rage when around them? This wasn't some little feeling of annoyance when someone makes a stupid joke.

This was a pure, full body, nothing more than just rage and hatred flowing through your body. You walked for a while until you made it back to the house. It was quiet, except for the faint sound of begging from Lilith in the basement. You dropped your bag on the floor, walking to the couch to sit down.

Your leg was still throbbing but you had been a little too terrified to look at it. You took a deep breath, pulling up the leg of your pants, you see three claw marks near your ankle. The scratches looked infected and your stomach dropped. You stood up, ignoring the pain, rushing towards the basement door, ripping it open. You stomp down the stairs, standing a good distance away from Lilith. Your chest is heaving, her back is still towards you. You can hear her giggling, her head hanging down as she begins to laugh harder.

“What did you do to me?” You yell.

She doesn't answer. She sits there, still laughing.

“What the fuck did you do?” You ask, your voice is a little quieter this time.

She doesn't answer. But her laughing stops. She doesn't turn around, she doesn't say anything. She only hums, ignoring you.

You turn around, walking back up the stairs, slamming the basement door shut. You stand there, your head spinning. You were tired, your body felt weak but felt like it was on fire. Whatever was going on with you, was taking its toll on you. You tried to walk towards the stairs to go to your room but it was like your legs were blocks of cement. Sweat dripped down your face as panic set in.

You wanted to call out for help, you wanted to cry but you couldn't and the more you tried, the weaker you felt. Until you felt nothing else at all, your body collapsed to the floor and everything went black.

“Y/N?” Seungmin yells, shaking your unresponsive body. “Y/N?” He calls out again, trying to do whatever he can to help you and wake you up.

The others rush in, seeing Seungmin hunched over your lifeless body, Chan sprinting into action to help you. He picks you up, rushing you upstairs to his room, laying you down gently on his bed. He knows you're alive. He can hear and smell the blood pumping through your veins. He breathes a sigh of relief, though he's confused about what happened to you. He checks your face, your neck, shoulders. You haven't been bitten. Your hands look okay, so what was causing this? He notices your pant leg pushed up ever so slightly more than the other one. He moves off the bed, kneeling at the end of the bed. He gently rolls up your pants a little more, seeing the three scratches he can only assume was left on you by Lilith.

“Fuck.” He hisses, slamming his hand down onto the floor.

You gasp suddenly and loudly, sitting up in the bed, looking around. You're confused, where were you? Your eyes slowly begin to focus, seeing Chan kneeling at the end of the bed, staring at you.

“What happened?” You whisper, laying back down. Chan stands up, swiftly making his way over to you, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“You left the restaurant without telling anyone.” He begins.

“I remember that.” You murmur.

“And then when you didn't come back to the table we started looking around for you. Seungmin found you first.” He says. “You passed out.”

“Oh god.” You groan.

“How long have you had those scratches?” He asks.

“Since… um.” You pause. “I found Lilith.”

“Why didn't you tell anyone?” He wonders.

“I was scared to look. I didn't know what happened and I didn't want to look.” You say.

“You should have told us, y/n.” He sighs. “You haven't been yourself since that day.”

“What are you talking about?” You ask, a slight change of tone in your voice. Chan detects it immediately. You were beginning to feel the anger build up in you again.

“You've been angry. Distant. You're not yourself.” He says.

“Like you fucking know me? I'm not fucking angry!” You scream, getting off the bed in a hurry, storming out of the room. You stomped the entire way to your room, slamming the door behind you. You were trying to control your breathing as you undressed, deciding you just needed to go to bed for the night. You slipped a long shirt over your head, not worrying about your shorts tonight. You crawled into your bed, Chan's words replaying in your head.

“you're not yourself. You're angry.”

You didn't want to admit it but you were angry. Whenever any of them were around, you were so fucking angry and you were sure it had something to do with Lilith, and you were sure Chan thought the same too. You tossed and turned for the first few hours until you finally felt yourself rest and relax.

Or so you thought.

“Y/n.” You barely hear, your body being shook awake, startling you.

“What? What happened?” You gasp, looking around. Your vision settles, seeing Chan standing over your bed, looking at you worriedly.

“You were screaming in your sleep. Are you okay?” He whispers. You're watching his plump lips move as he talks, And you wanted nothing more than to kiss him at this moment.

So that's what you did. You placed your hand on the back of his head, pulling him down. You could feel him go with it, his lips crashing into yours. You slide your tongue into his mouth, holding him closer to you.

Fuck you were so fucking needy right now and this is what you needed. Chan pulls away as you try to pull him on top of you.

“Y/N.” He breathes.

“Are you saying no?” You pant.

“No, that's not what I'm…” he pauses as you move the blankets off of you. You pull your shirt up a little, spreading your legs, showing him your lack of panties.

“Oh fuck.” He hisses.

“I need you Chan.” You say, pouting. “Don't you need me too?”

“Baby girl, don't say that to me. I've been trying to resist you.” He pauses, leaning in close. “Because once I get a taste, I won't be able to fucking stop.”

“Then don't.” You groan, lifting your shirt up over your breasts. You hear Chan take a sharp breath in as he stands up, undressing faster than you've ever seen anyone before. He stands before you, muscles glistening in the moonlight, his cock painfully hard.

“I don't think you know how long I've waited for this.” He says, pulling you off the bed. He lays down where you just are.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“Ride my face.” He demands. You crawl onto the bed, hovering over him, nervous to lower yourself down. “Don't be afraid, let me make you feel good.” He says, pulling you down. You sit on his face, feeling his breath on your cunt. His tongue runs along your wetness, slowly moving up towards your clit. He doesn't stay there for long, licking up and down, with each pass picking up his pace, until he stays at your clit. He wraps his lips around your swelling bud, sucking on you, making your body jolt. His hands run up and down your thighs while you begin to rock yourself against his tongue. Your entire body begins to heat up, nothing but pleasure flowing through you. You can hear him moan from underneath you, the vibration from his lips making it feel even fucking better. You don't pay attention to how loud you are, Instead running your hands all over your body, playing with your nipple before moving up to run your hands through your hair as he brings you closer and closer to your orgasm.

You move your hands down, gripping onto his head, riding his face hard, until your orgasm finally overcomes you, exploding through your body as you scream out.

With ease, Chan lifts you off his face, your body still shaking from your orgasm. You're exhausted already. “I'm not done with you yet.” He laughs, sliding up on the bed. He leans against the headboard, pulling you towards him. You climb on top of him as he holds his cock, letting you sink down onto him.

“Fuck.” He groans. You gasp as your pussy stretches out, feeling full and he is only half way inside you. Chan thrusts up, pushing his already pulsating cock as deep into you as he could. He leans forward, pressing his chest against yours. His cold hand gently grazes your face, moving down to your breasts. He leans forward, taking your nipple between his wet lips, swirling the tip of his tongue around it. You moan as you grind on his cock, your arms wrapped around him, dragging your nails across his back while you begin to bounce harder and faster.

“You feel so fucking good.” He groans.

“Chan..” you cry out, your head thrown back, eyes closed, while you ride him.

You feel him move, his cold hand grabs your haw, forcing your face towards his.

“You look at me while you're moaning my name.” He groans. He leans forward, placing his tongue between your breasts, licking up your chest, moving up your neck and to your jaw. He smirks as he grabs the back of your head, colliding his lips with yours. He harshly thrusts his tongue into your mouth, kissing you so hard.

Chan breaks the kiss, moving his hands under your thighs. He lifts you up just enough so he can move, slamming you down onto the mattress, his cock still inside you. You turn your head, crying out as he rams his cock into you, his large hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing.

“Look at me.” He moans. You can't hear him, you're in your own little blissful world.

He grabs your jaw once again, forcing you to look at him. Your eyes open, staring at the man fucking you hard, but not as hard as you know he can go.

“Open your fucking mouth.” He spits, his eyes moving from your face to your mouth, to your tits and back up to your mouth. You stare at him as he rams his cock into you, smirking as you open your mouth, sticking out your tongue.

Chan leans down slightly letting spit fall from his lips, landing on your tongue. “Swallow it.” He whispers, watching you intently. You put your tongue back in your mouth, smiling as you swallow his saliva, making him moan louder and fuck you harder.

“So fucking hot.” He groans, holding your legs above your head. He places his thumb on your clit, rubbing fast, wanting you to cum one more time for him.

You're screaming out as he rubs and fucks you, your pussy tightening around his cock until you cum again, covering his cock in your juices. Chan holds tightly to your ankles, his own orgasm just seconds away. A few more thrusts he cums, spilling his seed deep inside of you, breathing heavily as he slowly thrusts, milking himself of everything he has.

Chan pulls out of you, smiling widely as he walks naked to your bathroom, turning on the shower for you before he comes back to help you out of the bed. As you shower and clean yourself up, Chan puts his boxers back on, crawling into your bed to wait for you. You come out in your shirt again, making him frown.

“You better have panties on this time.” He murmurs.

“No promises.” You laugh.

You crawl into bed beside him, snuggling up to him. While you felt satisfied and exhausted you couldn't help but feel the anger bubbling up again and you were getting tired of it. Chan must have sensed it, he pulls you in closer to him.

“We'll get it figured out, okay?” He whispers. You nod your head, your eyes already closed. You really hoped they would.

In the morning you woke up… alone. You looked all around your room and there was no sign of Chan.

“What the fuck?” You mumble, rolling over to sit on the edge of your bed. So he fucks you, and then leaves in the morning? You knew it was a little irrational to be this angry about it but was it really so hard to stay until you fucking woke up? Honestly, the audacity of some fucking men. You stood up, not caring you were only wearing a shirt and no underwear. You ripped your door open, stomping down the stairs. You could hear whispers coming from the living room and they stopped as soon as you entered the room.

“Good morning.” They all smiled at you. Except Chan.

“You!” You yell, pointing at him.

“Y/N.” He starts.

“Don't y/n me! What the fuck?” You snap.

“Remember how I told you we'd get it figured out?” He asks.

You drop your arm. “Yeah.”

“Well we figured it out.” He sighs.

“And?”

“And we've got a problem.”

[If you enjoy my stories and would like to help me be able to keep writing, please consider commissioning a story or donating. It would help me out tremendously. You can buy me a coffee. Thank you, I love you all.]

[selfloverrrrrr]

Lust~(part-2)

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physically and emotional abuse, biting, torture, size difference, threesom....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Y/n's POV

Next morning when I woke up it was too early in the morning. Gojo was still sleeping beside me. Did I fall asleep after that last night? Fuck....I should sneak out quietly. I slowly pushed off his hand from top of me making sure he's not awake. Then took my clothes put it on and run away.

I went to school with a scarf around my neck. I was wishing while walking through the corridor that I wouldn't meet Gojo. But happened exactly what I didn't wanted. A hand wrapped around my neck. "Why did you sneak in the morning?" He asked. I almost jumped from the sudden voice.

I didn't reply and continued walking. "Awwww ignoring me even after being my whore for last night?" He asked. I looked around with a terrified expression checking that nobody heard it. "And I told you not to cover your neck... didn't I?" He asked and was about to pull the scarf. I grabbed his hand.

"Gojo please..." I said. He smirked. "Finally spoke?....fine sweetheart. After all I should fulfill my GIRLFRIEND'S wishes" he said and winked at me. Then went away from there. Almost a week passed. Gojo was out of town. Today all of a sudden Geto came to me. "Hey y/n...I didn't saw you after that halloween party" he said.

"yeah.... it's been a long time" I replied. "Why did you leave there that night? I thought you were there but when I came back you weren't" he said. So that means Gojo was lying? Geto wasn't in his plan? I knew he was lying! Why would Geto?! He'd never! I knew it. "I'm sorry... I wasn't feeling well that night" I replied.

He closed the door and without saying anything he kissed me. Then looked at me. "You know..... you're so pretty. I never thought I was going to see anyone this pretty in our college" he said. then kissed me again. This time deep kiss. I kissed him back. As I kissed him back he picked me up and went towards his bedroom.

The kiss kept deepening and he fell on his back on the bed with me on his top. I chuckled. He sat up with me on his lap and rested his back on the headboard. "You're so handsome" I said rubbing my hand on his chest. "You think so?" He asked with a smirk. "I do" I replied.

"the way you're believing me.... didn't anyone warned you about me?" He asked. "Yes... Shoko did" I replied. "As I thought" he chuckled. "And what did she say?" He asked. "That you may seem so innocent but you are dangerous" I replied. "Yeah yeah..." He said and rolled his eyes. "She's not wrong though" he said and pulled me again in a kiss.

His lips on mine. Tongue thrusting inside my mouth, we both grinding on each other's crotch, with one of his hands he grabbed my hair, with another hand pushing me more on his crotch and with another hand grabbing my breast and squeezing it and another month on my neck? WAIT WAIT WAIT.... how's that even possible?!

I immediately pushed off and turned around my head and and and I regret it now. There's Gojo sitting with a smirk on his face. "What's the matter y/n? You look like you've seen a ghost" he said and leaned towards me. My heart felt like now it's gonna be out the way it's beating. My breath was almost stopped.

I turned my head at Geto again. And he has the exact same smirk on his face. "What? Didn't you said Shoko warned you about me? Should've listened to her" he said and they both laughed. What the hell is happening?! Why am I in this fucked up situation!!! "You know... Suguru wanted to have you too... and I believe in sharing is caring but what do I see here? Cheating on your boyfriend? Very very bad" Gojo whispered and pulled me on his lap.

"you're not my boyfriend...let me go.... you both can burn in hell" I said and went up. Geto grabbed me and pulled me again. "Look Satoru you made her hate me as well ..... I thought I won't have to force! " Geto said. "Ah you don't know her she's a bitch....I think maybe she likes when We force her?" Gojo said with a smirk. "No I don't!!! Let me fucking go!!!!" I screamed.

Gojo started caressing my inner thigh under my skirt and slide his hand inside my pantie and started rubbing my clit. I was about to stop him but Geto grabbed my another hand. "Didn't you said you want it...so what happened now?" Geto asked. Gojo started rubbing his crotch on my ass. "Gojo stoppp" I screamed. He started rubbing my clit more roughly. "But baby... your pussy is telling me not to stop... Suguru, she's wet as fuck" Gojo said and ripped off my pantie.

I tried to close my legs but Gojo grabbed both of my thighs and spread them. "Spread those legs wide, slut" Gojo whispered in my ear. Geto looked at my exposed pussy. I looked away with shame. "Damnn... We should fuck her then, Satoru" Geto said. "Of course" Gojo said with a smirk. Then there was I, on my fours. All of our clothes were on the floor. I'm begging them to stop the humiliation. Geto thrusting his dick in my mouth and Gojo in my pussy from back. I squeezed my eyes.

Tears flowing down. My mouth was wide open. Geto's dick inside my mouth takes the whole length slowly. It was too big. Geto's breath hitched. He threw his head back mouth wide open. He pulled my hair telling me to suck hard. I slowly sucked his dick and his legs shook. He bobbed my head up and down. His tip was poking the back of my throat. He grabbed my hair and started bobbing my head up and down faster. "Oh god...oh god.... don't...ahhhh... don't stop!!!!" Geto moaned out loudly. He was bobbing my head up and down faster and faster. He suddenly felt that Geto was close. In a few minutes he came inside my mouth. He grabbed my chin "Swallow it y/n" geto said squeezing my mouth which made me swallow. I squeezed my eyes shut and he forced me to swallow.

On the other hand Gojo was thrusting too roughly. He was slamming his whole dick inside me. I screamed. I was through my legs with pain and begging him to stop. And he liked it so much. His thrust became harder and harder. I clenched around him tightly and he moaned loudly " ughhhhhh....ahhh s-so...ahhhh....so f-fucking tight, Suguru this pussy might be the death of me!!!" he started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I squeezed the bedsheet to control myself. With a few more thrust I came. He was still thrusting roughly. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. " Slut should fucking take what I'm giving her." He whimpered. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out.

Geto pulled me and made me sit on his lap. He touched my right boob with his hand and pinched the nipple. I whimpered. "She can take both of us together Suguru" Gojo said. "Can she?" Geto asked with a smirk. "Of course she can she said she'll do anything to help us" Gojo smirked back at Geto. "No no no....not again... please please please... not again" I cried out. Gojo's smirk widened and he crashed his mouth on my boob sucking harshly. I moaned loudly.

They both lined up with me. Fear grabbed me by my neck. " Gojo no no no... P-please no...Geto please s-stop" I begged but they didn't even listen to me and slammed their whole dick inside me in one slide. I screamed. They didn't even give me time to adjust his size and started thrusting in and out roughly. It was too much...they both were big and thick....it was giving too much pain. I was through my legs with pain and begging them to stop. And they liked it so much. Their thrust became harder and harder. I clenched around them tightly and he moaned loudly " ughhhhhh....ahhh s-so...ahhhh.... f-fuck...it's so tight " Geto moaned. "Told you " Gojo said between moans and started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I bit his shoulder and scratched his back to control myself. With a few more thrust I came. They were still thrusting roughly. I felt their cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength. They both moaned loudly. Within a minute they came inside me so I could feel their seed inside me. My vision blurred out.

They both pulled out. "Gotta say....you weren't wrong tho ...she feels like heaven" Geto said. "I know she does" Gojo replied and laughed loudly.

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests 💕

[emotionally-cuckolded]

You've been aware that the two of them have been attracted to each other for quite some time. In fact, your wife has told you several times how much she likes him and how sexy she thinks he is, while he has told you many times how lucky you are to be married to her -- and he has told you several times how much he wishes she were single so that he could go out with her. Then, a couple of weeks ago -- he told you that for her birthday that was coming up, he was going to get her a ticket to go with him to a concert with one of her favorite groups -- but he wanted to make sure that would be OK with you. You weren't sure if it was -- but when you mentioned it to her, she got very excited and told you to definitely tell him that she would love to go with him.

But the thing is -- the concert is out of town (about two hours away) and would go very late, so their plan is to go out to dinner after driving there and then stay the night after the concert. And when he had come over on her birthday to tell her about the gift in person, she had given him a big, and very affectionate hug -- and a very affectionate kiss. And they both talked about their plans as a "date".

And then a bit later that evening -- the evening of her birthday, which you had planned to be a special romantic night for you and your wife -- after he had stayed for dinner and you all had several glasses of wine, he had suddenly teased you by openly asking her if she thought they would need two hotel rooms or if he could save some money by only paying for one -- and she had giggled then and laughingly said that one should be fine. And then he had laughed and followed that by asking whether that would still be OK even if the room had just one queen-sized bed instead of two beds, and she had again giggled and said one would be fine.

Surprisingly, it wasn't until that moment that you started to feel anxious about what might happen when they spent the night together after the concert. But still, even when your wife looked at you at that moment and said teasingly "That's OK with you hun, isn't it?" -- you didn't feel you really could give any answer except 'Yes, of course."

Your wife smiled at you when you said that, and said that going to that concert with him might be the best birthday present she's ever had -- which also made your stomach flip a bit since it was not a gift that you were giving her, but you also realized that it would be petty of you to say anything about all the gifts from you that she's received over the years at a moment when she was so excited about the gift from him.

Perhaps because you had all had quite a bit of wine, as you went to the family room to watch TV, their teasing of you continued. First, your wife sat on the loveseat directly in front of the TV, and when you went to sit beside her, she said in a laughing voice that she thought it would be nice if he sat beside her there tonight since he was the one who had given her such a nice gift -- which meant that they ended up sitting together there while you were in a comfy chair on the side.

And almost as soon as he was settled in next to her, she took his arm and put it around her while saying to you, teasingly again: "You don't mind if he and I snuggle a bit together, do you hun?". You said, once again, "No, of course not", but that didn't represent how you really felt. A few minutes later, you wife asked you to get them a blanket to share while they sat there, and so it wasn't long until they were close together on the loveseat, he with his arm around her shoulders while she had her head on his shoulder and with a large blanket across the two of them.

Because all the lights in the room were out, you couldn't see the two of them all that well, but through the glow of the TV you could see that they were very close and that from time to time they were kissing. And one time when they were kissing, your wife noticed you looking at them and she teasingly told you to stop looking their way -- that she was just giving him a few kisses as a way of saying thank you for the gift, and then ending again with "You don't mind, do you hun?".

You tried to do as she asked and not look away from the TV, but it was still hard for you to avoid noticing that there seemed to be a lot of activity underneath the blanket, and you could sense your wife starting to breath in a very sexually aroused way -- and so, it was in somewhat of a panting voice that your wife eventually told you -- much to your surprise -- that they both would like it if you could go out for a while.

"Hun" she said. "Could you go out and maybe do the weekly shopping now or something -- so that you're gone for an hour at least? We .. uh .. could use a little private time. You know -- to talk -- just the two of us. You'll do that for us, won't you? To help make my birthday really special?"

What choice did you have. So you somewhat meekly agreed -- first asking them if there was anything special they wanted you to buy, then grabbing the shopping list from the kitchen and heading out.

You took your time driving and shopping, so it was about another hour and a half before you got back home, arms full of groceries. As soon as you stepped into the house, you heard your wife giggling, and after putting away the groceries you went back into the family room, where you could dimly see your wife and your friend almost totally covered by the blanket -- but what looked like most of their clothes on the floor in front of them.

"THANKS hun", your wife said with another laugh. "Just one more thing -- another big ask as a special birthday treat from you. We were thinking that we probably need to test out if we are comfortable sleeping together in a queen size bed, so we'd like tonight to be our "test" night for that. So what I'm saying is" she continued with a giggle "that maybe you could go down to the basement guest room for tonight so we can have the master bedroom? You've been so great about helping to make this such a wonderful birthday evening. And I'm sure you'll be comfortable down there. OK sweetie?"

Again -- what choice did you have. And so -- your wife and best friend spent the night upstairs in your bed while you spent the night alone in the basement

[descendant-of-truth]

Interesting addendum to this that I wasn't expecting: in the English version of Days, whenever Roxas talks about Sora, he's always clearly framed as a person. "Who is Sora," "I don't even know a Sora," etc.

In Japanese, he initially asks about who Sora is, but then switches to asking what Sora is. And it seems to happen not too long after Xemnas describes Sora as "the connection" between him and Xion.

He proceeds to wonder to himself what Sora is, and who exactly that makes him, before going to ask Axel about it. And during that conversation with Axel, he doesn't say "I don't even know a Sora," he instead just repeats the question of "but what even is Sora?"

Which I think adds an extra nuance to the narrative that gets lost in the official translation. Roxas instinctively thinks of Sora as a person, because why wouldn't he, but none of the answers he gets about him frames him as such. So, perhaps subconsciously, he starts seeing Sora less as a person and more of a mystery, this obstacle to his and Xion's lives that he can't seem to get answers about.

And normally, you'd think Roxas wouldn't fall into this trap, right? He's always been the most adamant about defending Xion's personhood, shouting at people when she's referred to as a puppet or an "it." His whole storyline is about asserting himself in the face of nearly everyone he knows dehumanizing him and trying to take away his autonomy.

Plus, he has Sora's memories! If he remembers things that Sora's done, and things that Sora's felt, how could he not see him as a person?

But I think that's a testament to how insidious the Organization's manipulation is. Roxas and his best friend are discriminated against, they're "othered" in a way that's unfair and it makes him justifiably ticked off. But that's the thing: he knows Xion, he cares about her, and of course he knows himself. He remembers things about Sora, but he doesn't really understand him - we never see him processing the memories he has very well.

So it becomes very easy for Sora to be presented as the "other." He doesn't stand up for Sora's personhood because he hasn't seen it, and frankly, he has bigger things in his home life to care about than whether some random guy he knows random things about is being treated well. Sora, reportedly, is half the reason he has so many problems anyway, and at this point in his life he just wants someone to blame.

It doesn't matter that Sora wasn't personally responsible for anything that happened to Roxas. He doesn't know what Sora did or didn't do when it comes to him and Xion, but everyone's telling him he's responsible, he's the connection, he's the reason everything is happening to him. And so, Roxas's anger is directed at an innocent person, someone who's really not much more privileged than he is, instead of solely at his oppressors.

Honestly, the way Roxas views Sora over time deserves a post all on its own, because it's not even necessarily as straightforward as "and then he saw Sora exactly for who he is once they joined together for a while and he got over his resentment." It's more like, his resentment turned into genuine respect, and then into this weird, resigned hero-worship for a bit, before they seemed to get on equal terms towards the end of KH3.

But my point is, Roxas plays a very interesting role in this pattern of Sora being dehumanized, because he ends up contributing to it for completely different reasons than everyone else, and it's not even on purpose. DiZ and the Organization see Sora as a tool, Namine and especially Riku care more about waking him up than how he'd feel about their methods.

To Roxas, Sora is the reason he lost everything. Sora is "what it was all for," which starts as something he hates, and becomes something that gives him a certain degree of comfort.

Because Sora will be the one to figure it all out, right? He can depend on Sora, just like everybody else, because that's what Sora's here for. He's a good guy, he'll find a way to make things right again.

He ends up being correct, but man. At what cost

Anyone else find it fascinating that whenever we're shown Roxas's feelings through Sora, it's just kind of melancholic and wistful, but the reverse scenario always feels like you just walked into a psychological horror?

Seriously, the way it's presented, it's like we're meant to see Roxas as an old friend that we miss talking to, but Sora - our original "old friend" that we would have reasons to miss - is hardly even shown as a person. The contents of his memories feel less important than the effect they're having on Roxas, which is usually Extreme Distress and/or physical pain.

And it's insane to me because KH1 was so whimsical! The memories that Roxas and Xion are experiencing are literal Disney magic! But the way they're shown, with the fuzzy filters and the glitch effects, sort of removes the emotions you associate with them and makes them come across as eerie and unsettling.

Not to mention, Sora's memories rarely prompt any feelings of happiness, the way Roxas's might make Sora extra fond of the Twilight Town crew... which might say more about how KH1 affected Sora's mental health than anything.

(I personally stand by the idea that the story revisits it so much as an analogy for how repeating events in your head over and over can alter your perception of them)

But like. how wild is it that this series found a way to take its cheerful protagonist, and without changing anything about him, turned him into this constant, unnerving presence that haunts the lives of two other characters?

And I think another reason Roxas doesn't feel like he haunts Sora in the same way is because no one really... treats Sora like a person while he's asleep. He's either a tool or an object of affection, and regardless of which you pick, his feelings are seen as secondary to the goal of waking him up. As a result, the narrative focuses entirely on Roxas and Xion's personhood, and unlike Sora, they never stop being treated like people once they're made inaccessible due to the plot.

It's probably a bit late in the story to bring it up by now, but I still wonder if we'll ever see Sora be upset with Riku for sacrificing people in his name. Sure, it worked out in the end, and I'm not sure if Sora's even aware of what happened (how likely is it that he's properly sifted through all of Roxas's memories at this point?) but there's a list of things he could still conceivably be mad at Riku about that he hasn't processed, and I want this to be one of them

[star2fishmeg]

oooooh for your 1K celebration could i request scenario 133 with jack hughes pretty pls and thank you :)

Thank you for requesting <3

SCENARIO #133 Bffs 'practising'

📞 dialling…

“Are you kidding?” Jack asked in surprise, eyes almost burst straight out of his head, pushing off his headboard to lean closer to y/n opposite him on his bed. 

“Jack, stop, it's so embarrassing.” She hushed urgently, hoping Luke couldn’t hear anything from the room next door. Heat flushed to her neck, and she buried her face in her hands. “People didn't like me like that, okay?”

He leant back again, jaw agape and mind trying to process the information. Out of all the years they’d known each other, he couldn’t comprehend how he didn't know she’d never been kissed before or how he never knew about it. What rattled him the most was that he knew guys who would have gone through the trenches for y/n back in high school, yet nothing ever came of it. His ride or die, y/n? Never been kissed?

He pushed his hair off his forehead, the locks getting longer just the way he knew she liked it, “But college? You're saying you did three years of college and nothing? I'm finding it hard to believe that someone as pretty and cool as you had nobody who wanted to kiss you, sweets.”

Her hands fell to her lap, fiddling with the ends of her pyjama bottoms, stomach flipping anxiously at all the two memories of when she almost had a kiss, but could never bring herself to go through with it. It just didn’t feel…right.

“Ah, well, my friends were more approachable, I guess. I don't even know what the fuck to do anyway, like how do you even make-out?” She chuckled, peering up to give him a quizzed look. 

Jack didn’t need to think, didn’t need to hesitate, the first thought that came to mind hit him like a brick and was a risk he was willing to take, the tightness and excitement in his chest needed relief or he would end up facing the anguish of not taking the risk.

“I can teach you.” He said, quickly with his unwavering confidence across his lips, eyes flickering to her lips. “For real, I'll teach you how to kiss. Come on, it'll be fun and it's just me. You know I won't tease you.”

“You don’t have to, J. Honestly, you don’t have to pity me.”

“It’s all good, sweets. I’ve got you, c’mere.” He patted his thigh twice, inviting her in with a confident grin on his face. She wasn’t sure if he was confident or finding amusement in the whole thing.

She exhaled, crawling towards him and straddling his lap, the new position sparking a funny excitement in her stomach, heat surging over her body. His hands held her hips, firm but not bruising, enough to reassure her that, he was sure. Y/n’s breath fell shaky, she’d been face to face with him before but not in that position, where his thumbs rubbed her hipbones gently and her hands wound around his shoulders. 

“Don’t be nervous, princess,” he murmured, “tilt your head to the left and follow my lead.” 

She did, closing the space between them. He pressed his lips to hers tenderly, slotting perfectly. In those brief, six seconds it felt as if the world burst into colours around her, butterflies swarming around her stomach and finally understanding how addicting it was to taste another. Without much thought, she slid her hand to his nape, pulling a groan from Jack’s throat.

Y/n pulled away, lips still parted but eyes searching his for any speck of mutual desire that washed through her, hands still holding each other but she felt his fingers sneak under her t-shirt with feathery touches. 

“Do…do you normally make noises like that when you kiss girls?” she asked quietly, a wild glint in her eyes, one that Jack struggled to contain himself over. He shook his head honestly, hands slithering further under her shirt but doing nothing but running his hands over her waist. “J, I think I wanna make-out with you.”

His lips quirked up in the corners and he licked his lips, “Me too. It’s gonna feel weird, but move your tongue against mine, just follow my lead, ‘kay?”

She nodded, eyes fluttering closed and leaning into him. He pressed his mouth to hers again, swiping his tongue over her bottom lip, feeling her open cautiously before sliding his tongue further. Jack was right, not that she didn’t believe him but his tongue finding hers and lapping against it was alien, yet she followed him. His hand moved up her back, the other arm still wrapped around her waist and keeping her secure to his body, lips moving in a slow rhythm, his chest fizzling at the little moans emitting from her shamelessly as they licked into each other. For someone who’d never made out with anyone before, she learned fast, ignoring the saliva drooling from the corners of mouths. 

Jack hummed when she looped her other arm around his shoulder’s tighter, unknowingly rolling her hips into his crotch, their rhythm becoming hungrier, hotter and heavier until they had to pull back, gasping for air.

Jack rested his forehead against hers, the pair falling into giggles. Twirling a strand of his hair around her finger, she smiled. “How was I?”

“Good, but I think we’re gonna have to go again just so I can be sure.”

He rolled them onto their sides, Jack propped up by his elbow with y/n tucked underneath him, kissing her hard with his hand soothing over her waist and hiking her t-shirt to her ribs. She moaned into him with a slight smile to her lips, one hand tucking his hair away from his face meanwhile her arm held onto his shoulders. Love, lust, hunger and comfort during three separate kisses, yet three attempts at showing how deep down they knew they were meant for each other.

[gayofthefae]

"I should have explained myself because maybe then Eleven would have taken me with her, but - I don't know. I didn't know what to say."

That isn't what he said the first time.

"I should have said something. And maybe if I had said that thing, Eleven would want me there with her."

The sentiment of him being with her and knowing/ensuring she's safe is consistent. But he isn't actually repeating himself. There's no need for him to as a person and as a screenwriter, repetition should DEFINITELY be cut.

He's changing. He's brainstorming. He's starting to consider other angles of the "could have"s. The "what if"s.

He starts with "what if I'd just forced an 'I love you'". But I think he likely settles on what we can logically deduce for ourselves in that situation - "I made the right choice prioritizing with what I knew of the consequences at the time".So he changes. He changes.

He changes to "I should have explained myself".

"Explained myself" is NOT the same as "said that thing" and that is VITAL.

I should have just sucked it up and told her I loved her if it meant keeping her safe.

No, I did the best I could with the information I had

I should have told her the truth. Maybe she would have taken it better if I had just told her that I don't love her but it's my fault, not hers. Now she thinks it's hers and that I'm hiding it.

And, perfect timing, Will comes in with (in Mike's pov) "It makes sense why you didn't, though, don't beat yourself up. She was gonna get hurt either way and everything would have been a risk as to how much."

And Mike nods. And the next time we see him, he's saying

"Will she still even want me in her life if I can't give her the love she wants? All I can do now is to make sure she knows it isn't her fault, that's the selfless act I can do for her, but if I confess I don't love her, what other use am I to her? Will doing what's best for her by telling her it's not her fault, it's mine, instead of continuing to lie make me lose her?"

He says "explain". He starts with "maybe I should have changed the 'what'". Then he shifts to "maybe I should changed what she thought of the 'why'". Ironically, his question in the van once he's come to that conclusion is "how?".

The first pitch her makes is "maybe I should have told her I loved her" and Will says "don't worry, you'll have another chance", and he turns away and introspectively reacts with

aversion.

But then he says "maybe I should have just explained the real reason behind my actions instead of denying them all together" and Will says "that's a scary thing to do. It's a hard decision. You're doing your best", and he turns away and introspectively reacts with

understanding.

Honestly, being understood. And sometimes that's what you need to find understanding. He's been confused this whole time, that's been his whole thing, but he looks like he's starting to piece something together now - finally. Will put his own feelings into words for him to hear out loud so could finally get them and get them in a validated way.

Instinctively, he knew the first one was easier but wrong. He didn't want to lie to her. Both times Will said "if that's what you want to do, I believe in you", but only once did he agree. He knew it felt like the wrong choice the first time and you can see it. The second time was a new choice he was considering.

And you know what? While we're here. Telling her he loves her: aversion. Telling her the truth: understanding and drive. What happens next?

He expresses "what if when I tell her the truth, as I've decided is the right choice, she appreciates it but doesn't need me for anything else beyond that?" And Will says "she'll stay. You got this.", and he reacts with

Comfort. *

He didn't know what to do. Then he did, but he was scared to do it. Then he wasn't so scared anymore.

He's thrilled to see her and forgets for a second but - much like El with Will on roller rink day - is reminded by seeing Will that now that she's actually here, it's real. He's committed to his actions and they're impending.

But he's not so scared anymore. Bravery, though, doesn't mean no nerves. He's hesitant and not happy looking when he talks to her about it first. He tries to lighten the mood - "the whole world went to shit and everything" - and he's watching her reactions like a hawk. It feels like less of a risk now enough that he can do it, but not so little that he isn't scared. Either way though, it's worth the risk for her to know it isn't her.

He didn't know what to do. Now he does. He was scared, but he's not as much anymore. Not too much to do it. They're interrupted. Okay, oh well, he'll find another time.

And now to break your heart:

Mike had an idea, Will said it was good, but Mike met that with aversion.

Mike had an idea, Will said it was good, Mike met that with understanding and agreement.

Mike was scared, Will said he had no reason to be, Mike met that with comfort.

(I'm sorry) Mike was scared for El - unrelated - and looked to Will for comfort - as he had every other time - when he tapped him on the shoulder, Will said he should tell her he loves her, and he reacts with

anguish.

This was not Mike's plan.

This was not their plan, so he thought.

Mike's reaction tells us everything about what he knew and what he meant for what's to come. This was not what he meant. That was not what he was going to say. This was his plan.

And there's that part of you too that always wishes to go back to semi-ignorant bliss. Even if just panicked confusion. Because wasn't it nice: when telling her you loved her evoked this

And not this

Wasn't it nice when you knew...just a little less?

Wasn't it nice, in a way, when you couldn't see the happy ending so clearly?

Don't you sort of miss - when you couldn't taste it?

also fuck it for just for that list bit and the bridge of this song here's my illicit affairs edit linked because "you showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else"

[nectardaddy]

SERENDIPITY . . . kita shinsuke + f! reader

⤷ take me as I come

˖° take me as I come // or don't take me at all // I'm gonna let you down // I'm gonna lead you lost // darling, I mean well // I won't leave 'til I'm gone // I'm the maker of hell // burn every bridge I've known

             take me as I come , evan honer 

notes/CWs: set before 88 ford started, parental death mention, fighting/violence, brief undertones of organized crime, blood, disassociation, panic/anxiety attack, flawed (real) characters, language, misplaced anger, imposter syndrome, feelings of never being good enough, hurt/comfort as always, lore drop for yn <3

⤷ merry late christmas to @standcom and @wyrcan <333 I hope you enjoy it because this really pushed my writing limits and I think it came out way better than expected 

“What were you thinking?”

The same, old conversation that was drowned out behind the blood that still roared in her ears. Hot, boiling, and coursing through her veins as she kept her eyes to the ground; tracing over the cracked titles of the kitchen. 

“You weren't thinking. . .” 

Bits and pieces of the lecture came through here and there, and her jaw tightened at the accusation that was said out of anger. Her father was rough around the edges, callous, but kind when it came to her - his daughter. Always willing to take up arms and defend her if she was in the right, but this time she wasn't. 

“You coulda’ killed them!” A loud exclamation followed by a sigh and a screech of a chair. Her father had sat down roughly and leaned back, dragging his hands over his face before correcting his tone. “You coulda’ fucking killed them. . .”

“I wish I did.” 

The room fell silent at her remark. Her eyes never left the green tile of the floor, tracing over the cracks and dents with bruised, bloodshot eyes. Even still, she could feel her father's gaze harden on her. When she was little, she straightened up with that look; the repercussions of being grabbed by the ear from her late mother and lectured by her father was a big enough deterrent. Only this time it wasn't. 

The kitchen tap dripped, and the small splash echoed in her ears alongside the blood. Muddled together in a duo of chaos, and she closed her eyes. “I would've if Kita didn't pull me back.” 

“Well, thank fuckin’ god for Kita.” 

“I heard the woman died because the boss is into some shady shit. He's fucking stupid, getting his wife caught up in it-”

Her breath hitched in her throat at the words, and she felt her blood run cold. An accusation she heard here and there, that simply wasn't true. Her father did relatively clean work, though he did dabble; under the table work that he kept close to his chest - never, under any circumstances, did he put his family in harm's way. Her mother passed from a health complication; although, it didn't frankly matter, as people would believe anything other than the truth. 

“What the hell did you just say?” Her voice was firm, standoffish, and cold when she uttered a warning. She turned in a sharp snap, and bit her cheek hard when she realized it was a worker. A farm hand, her father’s help that she regularly had quarrels with. 

“He got his wife killed-” the person turned and she watched their eyes widen in horror. A sense of grief and terror engulfed them as she stood with her jaw tight and hands balled into fists. A sight to be held was the woman and her anger - scorned and violent. “Shit. . . I didn't-” 

But she didn't allow them to finish, not a syllable more, as the harsh crack of a fist hitting skin was the only thing that followed the abrupt pause. Quick to anger, slow to cool, a tornado of a woman barreling through an open plain as she stepped back with a huff. She watched them teeter back, held their nose with a loud groan as blood started to drip down their hands and onto the grass. “What the hell is wrong with you?” A pointed, rhetorical question from the person accused, “you're fucking crazy! Your whole family is batshit, I see where you get it from!” 

That's when she lost herself entirely.

Red and orange were always her favorite colors. It matched the sunset every evening, it mirrored the leaves that would fall down in her favorite season, it reminded her of oranges and apples that she would get at the farmers market. They were warm colors, happy colors.

But now, red was tainted.

Red was metallic and caused a stench that made her soul stop in its tracks. Red was what she saw when she lost herself in anger; red was too hot to touch but too cold to let out in solitude. Red was what dripped from her knuckles, her mouth, every gash and cut she received after she threw the first punch. 

Her chest heaved for air, sputtering and coughing, but unrelenting as she landed blow after blow - after blow. Her vision was blurry; sweat, tears, and blood pooled in her eyes that made it all the more difficult to see what she was doing - to witness the damage she was inflicting.

“I'll fuckin’ kill you!” Was the only sentence she managed to string together in her rage. Every other word was gibberish, curses, or insults laced with venom. A sharp tongue that knew no bounds, had little to no restrictions, but didn't know death threats until now. Didn't know the weight of such words until it passed her lips, but she only used the weight to her advantage, and kept going. 

The woman hadn't felt the forceful hands on her, too lost in incoherent rage to even feel cold fingers on scorched skin. She didn't fight the hands on her, as she didn't realize they were there until she was yanked backwards. Only then did she notice the ice cold fingers, squeezing her arms within a vice like grip as she was dragged back. “Get the hell off me!” 

She lunged forward and broke away, clawing at straws to attack the one person within her sights - a rabid animal that had a taste for blood and couldn't get enough. But once again, she was forced back; jerked with a force that normally would've taken her breath away, but now she didn't even have it to begin with. She fought against whomever held her; kicked, scratched, and clawed at the person who's only words were “please.” She turned within the grip, fist balled tight to deter anyone with the iron will to keep holding her, and reared back. 

Though, she didn't swing. 

Her fist didn't connect with a jaw per usual, it didn't connect with anything. The sharp snap of a punch wasn't heard, because she froze when she saw familiar brown eyes wide in concern. She watched as eyes flickered over her face in worry rather than horror, compassion rather than fear. And lowered her hand when she watched his eyes meet with it then return back to her. 

A fraction of a second, a brief silence and breath of air, before she fought against his hold again. The red in her eyes never faded, but would never be directed at him. “Let go of me, Kita! Get the hell off me!” 

“Y'know I can't do that, ma'am.” His voice was gentle and kind, despite the situation he found himself in and screams from her in comparison. 

“Like hell you can't! Let go! They talked about my mom, get the fuck off me, I swear to god-” 

“And now they know not to, you showed them what happens when they do. So, please-” 

“It's not enough!” 

“You'll hurt yourself if you do anymore!” His voice had a snap to it that she couldn't ignore, and she felt him pull her back again. Only this time, she fought a little less, made it a bit easier for him to do so. “You're already bleeding, ma'am, so please, just walk with me.”

So she did.

In silence, begrudgingly, as she kept turning her head to look back at the scene she walked away from. She felt him pull at her arm again, far more gently than the latter. “We need to get you cleaned up.” She took a sharp breath and nodded at his words. 

The woman sat silent, unmoving, as she watched the man through blurry eyes. Rummaging around in the medicine cabinet for something, anything, to aid her. But she only sighed. Sighed when he told her to take a seat earlier, sighed when he handed her whatever frozen food he found in the freezer for her black eye, and sighed when he finally found what he was looking for.

For once, the man didn't give her a small smile. Didn't tell her everything was alright, didn't remind her that workers are fickle and usually standoffish. Instead he was silent. Unspoken words remained in his mind, rather than his tongue. She sighed once more at the thought and frowned.

“You're upset with me,” spoken in a whisper, as the eye that wasn't covered with a frozen food flickered over to him.

“No, ma'am, I'm not.” A pause settled between them as she watched him look her over and frown. He placed a bottle of peroxide beside him, along with a roll of paper towels, before he sat down in front of her - the chair screeched against the kitchen floor. “They shouldn't have been talking about your family.”

“You're saying they deserve to be on the brink of death?” Pointed and distanced, she knew better than to think he would agree but asked in frustration. The heat of the emotion soothed her well more than any other; at least anger felt like a warm hug rather than a frigid slap.

He locked eyes with her for only a moment, desperately tried to decipher the swirling and dipping within them, but turned his gaze when he couldn't. Instead, he let out a breath as he took the bottle of peroxide and tipped it into a paper towel. “I'm saying they shouldn't talk about your family.”

The woman only hummed at the notion, but the grotesque feeling of shame crept up to her. He was disappointed, though he wouldn't say it, and it made her stomach tie in knots at the mere thought. Kita was compassionate, endearing, but cold and calculated when it came to his beliefs. What was right, in his eyes, would always outweigh all else.

She felt him rub that coarse paper towel over her arm, and hissed as the liquid on it seeped into wounds. He continued on in silence; however, only pausing to give her a moment's peace from pain every now and then. But the surge of true agony came when he moved to her knuckles, busted and bloodied - broken.

The yelp she let out, followed by a string of swears, made him pull away and look at her in worry. It was as if he put the disappointment on the back burner without a second thought, removed it from the forefront of his mind as soon as he believed he had truly hurt her. “I think your knuckles are broken,” a wary sentence, but not spoken from fear.

“No shit, Kita,” she groaned as she placed the, now thawed, food down on the table from her eye. The frustration never, really, left her from earlier, only festered and bubbled until it came to a head once more. She pulled her hand away from him and looked down, finally taking in the blood and bruises that littered her. Her dominant hand was swollen, knuckles busted and caked in blood - some hers, some not - and her eyes flickered over to the other hand.

The non-dominant seemed far worse, as the man in front of her hadn't moved to it, hadn't cleaned it. She found it hard to take in the sight, battered and bloodied never seemed to be exactly what she wished for, and moved her gaze to him. “God-” muttered under her breath as she tried to make a fist, but stopped upon realizing she couldn't. “They're definitely broken.”

“You'll have to get it checked out,” to which she only sighed and agreed. “Can I have your other arm, then? I don't want to hurt you.” She nodded.

She never realized how cold the man ran until his fingers were touching her palm, almost holding it as he repeated the same process from before on her other arm. She knew it meant nothing, only for ease to clean her wounds, but her cheeks felt hot regardless. His fingers were calloused from work, but his touch was gentle, as if he'd break her at any moment from being too rough. It was a care she hadn't felt from another in a long time.

“You should let your boyfriend know you broke your knuckles.” There was a twinge of discontent in his tone, his voice falling down as he spoke of another in her life, a tone she failed to notice. A timbre that always went over her head, as Kita Shinsuke, in her mind, would never go for a woman like her - harsh and callous. Wild and standoffish. Everything he believed against.

“Why?”

“Might worry him,” he shrugged. “I'd be worried if my partner broke their knuckles.”

“I don't think he'd be too worried,” she began and his eyes flickered to meet hers, brows scrunched in confusion. “I broke up with him.” She heard him hum in response. In reality, the man was over the moon about the news, but would never let it show. All too often did he notice the woman’s past partners, and each and every one didn’t tick the boxes that were required of them by her. Whether it be demanding, brash, or an out right lack of character, he always heard about them, and he always kept silent. “‘Said I was too intense and should calm down, so I told him to fuck off. ‘Said I was crazy too,” she sighed and dropped her eyes to her hand. “Maybe he's right.”

He shook his head and pulled away from her arm, nearly cleaned off so he decided to give her a break from the stinging liquid. “He's not.”

“You're just saying that so you don't end up like the other person just now.”

“Regardless of what happened, I don't think you're crazy.” A wave of deja vu hit him then; having had the conversation before with her a number of times, and every time it made his heart sink further. He hoped one day she would find someone to make her happy, to treat her well; whether or not that was him, he didn't mind. As long as the woman in front of him found the joy she so greatly deserved, he believed he could die content. “I think he's an asshole for saying something so wrong. You deserve someone who treats you with respect, like an equal.”

Her lips pulled into a small smile at the notion, hearing his voice change slightly in frustration. A barely there emotion for him, but one the woman poked and prodded at whenever it arose. “I didn't know you knew how to swear,” she mused, and kept the same smile. There was a long silence that filled the room, and she closed her eyes to enjoy it for once as her smile slowly dropped. Anger was the only emotion she truly felt at peace with, the sticky, hot emotion felt nice even if it burned her right down to the embers. Flames felt better than the frost bite of the cold.

The man remained silent as he returned to cleaning her wounds, focusing now on her non-dominant hand that wasn’t fractured. Beneath blood and dirt, he found hands he never took the time to look at. Calloused, from what he imagined to be a life’s work of farm chores, and scarred from other altercations. Knuckles littered with small scrapes and bumps from a life filled with vengeance, proving herself to be as strong as she spoke, and an anger that fueled every wrongdoing she ever made.

Once he was done, he pulled away once more. He held a small frown as his eyes looked over her face. Blood spattered and bruised, and a black ring started to form under her left eye. Her eyes were closed; however, and she seemed rather peaceful despite the juxtaposition of her attire. But he had grown accustomed to seeing her pull her mind away from whatever was going on, removing herself from a situation all while being there physically. An unhealthy, testy habit he learned she picked up years ago. Fight or flight always moved from decimate to flee.

“May I clean your cheek?” He asked quietly, and she nodded at his question that broke the silence. She felt her breath hitch in her throat; however, when he scooted closer to her. Knees just barely touched as she heard his chair screech against the kitchen floor. The man radiated warmth, the fleeting touch on her knee sent a shockwave through her soul, and she hated it. She reopened her eyes to look at him, to tell him to move back, but was rendered speechless when she did. Kita looked at her like she was the only woman in the world that mattered, and it made her want to heave.

His eyes were focused as he pressed the peroxide soaked paper towel on her cheek, unwavering and respectful as he looked over her features. “They got you pretty good.” Spoken through a barely there smile, and her breath failed her. He was close enough she could smell the earthiness of his clothes, sweat and dirt muddled with the soap from his laundry detergent. And for the first time in her life she felt flustered.

“Yeah,” she whispered, and turned her eyes away from his own. “But you saw how they looked.” He only hummed in response and her eyes moved down his physique, finally taking them in. The man had strong, toned arms hidden underneath long sleeves, but was rather small in comparison to how much he was capable of - brute force she often coined as ‘cowboy strength.’ As her eyes wandered further, she noticed the dirt and mud on his pants, and specks of blood that seeped through denim; she came to the conclusion the blood was her own, as the only scratches on the man were on his hands. “I'm sorry.”

He seemed taken back by the words at first, unfamiliar with the phrase to come from the woman. But quickly brushed it off as if it were nothing. “For what? You didn't do nothin’ to me.”

“Fightin’ you so hard,” she mumbled before wincing as he touched the peroxide to another cut on her cheek.

He mumbled a gentle, “sorry,” before she continued on.

“You were just trying to help.” Slowly but surely, she began to resent her own actions because of how much the man inserted himself in them. Oftentimes, coming far too close for comfort at the end of her hellish anger. But even still, he remained. Not once did Kita ever stray away, despite how gruesome or ugly things became. It made her stomach tie in knots, and the blood in her veins run scalding hot - she believed down to her every fiber that she should hate him for it. But she couldn’t.

“Don't worry-”

“Can it,” she cut him off with a harsh breath. “Don't sit here and tell me not to worry about it, when I know you’re probably all black and blue.”

“It's fine, I-”

“But it's not fine,” she huffed. “You put up this front of being so compassionate, sweet, and kind. But I know, deep down, you think I'm the biggest idiot alive; flying off the handle again just because someone had some choice words.” Her voice had gotten louder with every phrase, and she didn’t notice he had pulled away. The woman had a knack for biting and snapping at those who aided her, she always believed they didn’t mean such words. She would always bite the hand that fed her, and she didn’t care if she starved as a result.

“Why would I think that?”

He phrased the question gently, thoughtfully, as he knew one wrong move meant the dial got turned to max. But the fire already roared in her eyes, so he sat there and bore the blaze regardless. “Because everyone thinks that!” Her voice was loud in comparison to the quiet kitchen, but pained when every syllable came out forced. There was a moment's pause and he watched her let out a loud sigh before she continued on. “Everyone thinks that, Kita,” she repeated, softer as he saw her shoulders drop. “I'm the crazy woman with an already lit fuse just waiting to blow up.”

Her eyes returned to the man in that moment, and watched as his eyes flickered over her face. Slow and methodical, calculated but not cold. As if he were trying to figure out how she ticked, to see the gears turning in her mind. “I wish you'd give yourself more credit, ma'am.”

“What?” Was all that managed to slip past her lips, brows scrunched and mind unsure.

“Give yourself more credit,” he reassured. “So you're angry? Anger doesn't make you crazy, it makes you human. People just don't realize they got something good until it's gone.”

“I'm not a good person, Kita. I-”

“Sure you are.” She didn't think the man was one to cut her off, or frankly had the gumption to do so, but she promptly closed her mouth when he did. There was something about the man she found captivating - enthralling. She found it endearing to be in his presence, feeling almost normal as he spoke to her like anyone else, like an equal. His kindness never went unnoticed, despite how it filled her with a heat she found foreign and misjudged for anger. “If you weren't a good person, you wouldn't do the things you do.”

The man continued on per usual, back to treating her cuts and scrapes as if it were something to brush off. He tipped the peroxide once more into a paper towel, and leaned in, and once more she found herself flushed over the proximity. “Like what exactly?”

“You're one of the most hardworking people I know,” he began with a small smile. “You're steadfast in your beliefs, you're loyal, and you care a lot more than you let on.” His touch was gentle, even as he scrubbed and wiped at the dried blood on her face. A care that was meticulous, a care that made her stomach churn. “You don't let your dad work in the fields anymore since he's gotten older, you treat every worker you're on good terms with like an old friend, and I don't think I've ever seen you let someone leave here hungry - friend or foe alike.”

A sharp tongue and vile words had no sanction here, no foothold as she swallowed hard. Her vision became fogged as eyes welled with tears, an action that was foreign - an action that felt wrong. She bit her tongue hard at the feeling, and swallowed once more, briskly fighting off the lump in her throat and the sorrowful emotion in one fell swoop. The woman was sorely mistaken that she had succeeded, and felt the sickly drip of a tear run down her face.

She had expected him to acknowledge it, to coddle her, like many did when she was young. To give pity even though it felt like a steak knife through the gut, and to wallow in the emotion with her. Because what was worse than a poor woman crying? But he didn't. Instead, she felt him wipe it away. Simply and softly, even going as far to disguise his action through wiping at the blood just under her eye.

“You're a good person.” He assured, “even good people get angry and do things they shouldn't.”

It was as if she felt the world stop spinning. Forever locked in a perpetual cycle of wanting to vomit and wanting to engulf the man in a hug. But she did neither, as all she could do was stare. To lock eyes with him and hope he would never pull away, to keep the moment until the end of her days. “Shinsuke?”

The call of his given name made his stomach lurch to his throat, and he felt his cheeks get hot at the notion alone. He faltered in his actions, only for a second, before he continued on. “Yes, ma'am?”

“You're not scared of me at all, are you?”

“No.” He assured, and he gave her a small smile. A smile that said it was alright, a smile that held the compassion she needed. “Not at all.”

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[buckets-and-trees]

Stella.

Stella.

This response is such an incredible gift! I can hardly begin to express how much it affected me to relive this chapter with you, and with such thought and insight! 🥹

Are we harboring perhaps a little crush here? + she’s not just starstruck or someone easily swooned by celebrity status.

Right on both counts! How could one not harbor a bit of a crush on America's golden "boy" but who is so clearly grown into being a man?! Especially after his nomad period and aging up like fine wine after. BUT she also has a level head on her shoulders.

I immensely enjoy writers working with all the things that the Blip would cause...

I would say that while it wasn't the first thing I knew about the Reader, it was in the first ten percent of things that I mapped out. There are a couple of major plot points that it will tie into later in the story, so I won't say anything about those, but one of the reasons it really felt like something I wanted for this Reader's backstory is that it gave a balance to Steve's other half if HE stayed and SHE blipped. As a unit, they could carry both persepctives and experiences together.

I love how competent we see Pepper be here, how she’s been so good at putting this team together.

...I forgot I put Maria Hill on this team.🧍🏻‍♀�� This chapter was written when I was verrrry deep into my rewatch of The West Wing and the presidential candidates were getting security/military briefings. At least I was thorough then! But I also didn't have any major plot points planned for international/military things to be affecting the candidates during the campaign, I just wanted to be thorough. AND I also remember when I wrote her onto this campaign team, I felt a very strong YEAH, BECAUSE WE DO NOT ACCEPT HALF OF WHAT HAPPENED IN SECRET INVASION!!! It just felt right hahaha.

After all, he is from a world where marriage wasn’t so focused on romantic love. But since he is a romantic, I’m definitely looking forward to them falling in love.

The reasoning Pepper lays out also has some elements of my own views of marriage - in that it HAS TO BE more than only romantic love, because marriage is hard work (as is anything worthwhile/that you invest in/that can grow). AND ALSO that married women should never be relegated to being only a trophy wife or a house wife (and I say that very specifically in that if those are roles that women want to have, then they should, but they should hopefully not be boxed into a corner).

I'M SO GLAD YOU LOVE HER! And not just this moment, but the other moments you mentioned that I was stitching little bits of character into her. Partly for Steve to fall in love with, but ... partly because in a lot of my Readers, I want it to feel like clothes that the person reading it can put on and wear for a while. Sometimes a costume, sometimes to deal with a complex issue, sometimes to have a wild time/experience something we otherwise never would... But when I write confident and driven readers or readers who are direct, I put a lot of what I would aspirationally hope that I could be into those characters, if that makes sense? I don't want them to be perfect, but I want them to have backbones and dreams and ambitions and reason and logic and real feelings that motivate them. For me, it's empowering - and if fiction gets to be an escape, sometimes I want to escape into healthy leading lady energy, and hope that that's what others reading this story can feel, too. 🥹

Oh, I’m intrigued by this. Is she a widow too?

🤐😏

This isn’t even a thirst trap, it’s a heart trap, and that’s worse.

this has the delightful found family vibes – which are definitely highlighting some major loss in First Lady’s background, I mean, she has to have a hint of craziness and not a lot to lose to jump into this headfirst – that I always enjoy in fic.

BINGO! Part of Reader's wiliingness to agree is the nature of being untethered to the life she was living.

But oh! Sam just! Sam is such a fantastic character/figure in the MCU, and I wanted to give him some good moments + parts to be part of this story, because Steve has strong ties to the important people in his life, you know? And so this story ending up having a strong inclusion of side characters started in this chapter, and although it's Steve x Reader, they couldn't be in a bubble - especially not given the campaign story shell, so I wanted to make everyone around them count/have significant roles to play.

"He might look like an all-American boy scout, but there's a lot more going on under the surface." + this is definitely hinting towards how he’s not just the perfect soldier or the good man but human and I am always here here for it. And we love Sam for recognizing all this in his friend.

It's so important to me to have characters that feel real, and I think... well, I think there can be this tendency around SOME people in MCU fandom (not all, but some), who hate and dismiss Steve's character for just being this perfect paragon boy scout idea of Captain America, and he's so much more. If we go to the Cap v. Iron Man, I think we see the same dismissal over Tony is just selfish but these are both only ASPECTS that they present, pieces that they struggle with, and when they're further and further explored, we see the complex layers. The complex Steve is the one I love to read and strive to write. And Sam giving a briefing here to our Reader about his character gave me the chance to put the marker in the sand and say it's the kind of Steve I was hoping to put in here, too.

And....also....

Sam - to be frank - is doing some damage control.

Because it sucks that Steve didn't come to this breakfast. THIS BREAKFAST WHERE HE WAS SUPPOSED TO MEET HIS WIFE FOR THE FIRST TIME BECAUSE THEY ARE GETTING MARRIED TOMORROW.

Reader is being very optimistic still, not letting it get to her, and definitely GENUINELY enjoying this time with Sam, but.... it still is what it is. Sam: not lying about anything, but definitely hyping his boy up so you don't resent Steve or feel defeated or insecure.

I know it's the delicious sort of slow burn when they don't even lay an eye on each other in the first two chapters.

BURN, BABY, BURNNNNN! IT'S GONNA BE SUCH A BURN, STELLA!

And, as I said in the very beginning of my response, this was such. a. gift. Doing basically a close re-read of this with you/through your comments also comes at SUCH an opportune/unique time because I just posted chapter 11 last Friday and I think I now have it tied down to just four more chapters, and it's reminding me of some of the key things that I had planted seeds for in the beginning, and some of them I know I've got strong threads that have already wrapped up, some I still need to wrap up but are on track, and some that I can circle back to that I forgot (like, oH HEY, WE'RE PROBABLY GONNA SEE MARIA HILL NOW because I did forget her 😩).

You are a goddess.

I'm sorry to hear that 2024 ended in such a drain and strain on your energy, and so I hope that 2025 can be a gentler and kinder year for you! Sending you so much 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 both for spending so much time on this commentary and just for you in general.

Red, White & True: Manhattan & Brooklyn (1/?)

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers (future x curvy Millennial Female!Reader), Pepper Potts, Sam Wilson Word Count: 4k Summary: "There was an idea..." Words at the heart of what brought the Avengers together. Pepper Potts has persuaded Steve Rogers to step up and help again - but this time in a battle to The White House. She invites you to consider a key position.

Content/Warnings: none

Notes: This takes place in a post-Endgame scenario where Steve stays and generally most of TFATWS happened.

Prologue | Series

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

[MAY 15 - Manhattan, New York]

You try not to hold still while you wait in the lobby, but you’re nervous and the longer you sit, the more difficult it is to resist drumming your fingers, tapping your foot, jiggling your right leg as it’s crossed over your left, or even just chewing on your bottom lip.

You’re not anxious at all over meeting with Pepper, but what has you on alert is the possibility that you could theoretically meet Steve Rogers, former Captain America, today.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. The lobby of Stark Industries is immaculate, all sleek lines and modern design. The large windows let in plenty of natural light, making the space feel open and inviting despite its corporate purpose.

Your mind wanders back to your college days when you’d walked into a different Stark Industries lobby for the first time, a hopeful intern wanting to make a difference at the then-new Stark Foundation office. Pepper had been very involved in building the Foundation at the time, and had become a key mentor and - as the years passed and you left Stark Industries - a dear friend. She had helped fuel some of your late-night study sessions through grad school. Living in a new state, she had shown up and seen you through breakups, family drama, and the stress of putting together your thesis. Even when your paths diverged, you'd managed to stay in touch.

Back then, she’d become like the older sister you never had, seeing you through some of the difficult years figuring out how to be a real adult. Now, here you are, waiting to potentially join a presidential campaign she’s orchestrating for none other than Steve Rogers.

The receptionist's voice startles you out of your reverie. "Ms. Potts will see you now."

You stand, smoothing down your carefully chosen outfit - professional, but not stuffy. As you follow the receptionist down the hallway, your mind races with possibilities. What position could Pepper have in mind for you? Your background in political science and your years working in non-profit management seem like they could be useful, but you can't help feeling a little out of your depth.

As you approach Pepper's office, you take a deep breath to steady yourself. The door opens, and there she is - Pepper Potts, looking as poised and confident as ever in a crisp white blouse and tailored navy suit. Her strawberry blonde hair is pulled back in a neat ponytail, and her smile is warm and welcoming.

"It's so good to see you," she says, embracing you in a quick hug. "Come in, please."

You step into her spacious office, taking in the floor-to-ceiling windows with a breathtaking view of the city skyline. Pepper gestures to a comfortable-looking chair across from her desk, and you sit, trying to keep your nerves in check.

"I appreciate you coming on such short notice," Pepper begins. "I know it's been a few years since we’ve been able to catch up - even before the Blip.”

You were among the half who disappeared - still such a strange concept to grasp though you were supposedly settled back in. “I was happy to come! And of course I don’t mind a trip on the Stark Industries dime,” you say with a grin.

"Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee?"

You shake your head. "I'm fine, thanks."

Pepper settles into her chair, folding her hands on the desk. "So, I know I told you we’re putting together the campaign team for Rogers for America, but I'm sure you're wondering more specifically why I called you here."

You nod, leaning forward in your chair, eager to hear Pepper’s vision.

"We're putting together an incredible team," she begins, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I've been reaching out to some of the brightest minds in politics, economics, and social justice. We have former White House staffers, grassroots organizers, and even a few unexpected faces from the private sector who are eager to contribute their expertise."

You are instantly intrigued, trying to imagine the caliber of people she's describing. Your mind races with possibilities - perhaps that brilliant campaign manager who orchestrated the upset victory in the last Senate race, or the economist whose revolutionary ideas about sustainable development have been making waves in academic circles.

"We've got strategists who are anticipating every move our opponents might make," Pepper continues, "and communications experts who can craft messages that will resonate with voters across the political spectrum.”

You listen intently, trying to pinpoint where you might fit into this powerhouse group.

"There's Maria Hill," Pepper continues, "who's handling security and intelligence briefings. She's got connections that'll be invaluable. Then there's Peter Parker - you might know him as Spider-Man - he's officially our youth outreach coordinator, but he's also got a brilliant scientific mind that we're tapping into for policy development."

Your eyebrows raise at the mention of Spider-Man.

Pepper leans forward, her eyes locking with yours. "But here's the thing - we're not just assembling a team of political operatives and policy experts. We need people who understand the heart of what we're trying to do, who can see the bigger picture and help keep us grounded in our core values."

Your heart begins to race as you start to realize where this might be going.

"That's where you come in," Pepper says, a warm smile spreading across her face. "I've watched your career over the years, how you've navigated the non-profit world, building coalitions and making real change happen. You have a gift for bringing people together, for seeing connections that others miss. Your experience gives you a unique perspective that we desperately need."

Your heart races as you process her words. You had assumed you might be offered some kind of advisory role, perhaps in fundraising or event planning. Maybe even appearance management or offering occasional input on strategy. But from Pepper's tone, it sounds like she has something more substantial in mind.

"Where do you see me on this team?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

"I've been putting a lot of thought into this," Pepper continues, her voice filled with conviction. “You know we’re doing something unconventional. Did you read the presidential plan?”

You nod. Steve’s bid for President of the United States was still technically not public knowledge. You had signed an NDA - being told only that you were receiving a proposal Pepper wanted your input and consultation on, with potential to join the team if you supported the initiative, and just silence if you didn’t.

“It’s bold, idealistic, aspirational; but it’s also unapologetic, has clear plans of action, and could be transformational in ways we haven’t seen in living memory,” you give your assessment.

“And it’s something you could see yourself being a part of?”

You take a deep breath, but smile genuinely. “I couldn’t sleep the first night after you sent it over. I couldn’t stop reading, hoping, re-reading, imagining possibilities!”

“Good,” Pepper responds. “Perfect.”

“Put me to work wherever you need me!”

“I was hoping you would say that because I have a very specific position I need to get filled, and you’re my first - and only - pick for the job.”

“Pepper, stop holding out!” A nervous and eager laugh escapes you. “Tell me!”

Her response slams into you like a freight train, knocking the air from your lungs.

“Future First Lady.”

You feel your jaw drop in shock, almost hitting the ground as your mind races with disbelief and anger. The room feels like it's spinning as you struggle to process the weight of her words.

"What?" you gasp, your voice barely above a whisper. "Pepper, I... I don't understand. First Lady? But that would mean..."

Pepper holds up a hand, her expression serious. "We're not just running a campaign here. We're trying to redefine what leadership looks like in this country. Steve is an incredible man, and he needs a partner who understands the complexities of modern America, not just a trophy wife, someone who can connect with people from all walks of life."

You shake your head, still reeling. "But I'm not - I mean, Steve and I aren't even - we've never even met!"

"I know," Pepper says softly. "That's part of the plan. We want to show that leadership isn't about who you're married to or what your last name is. It's about vision, compassion, and the ability to bring people together."

Pepper leans back in her chair, her expression at least revealing some concern over your reaction. "I know it's a lot to take in."

"A lot to take in?" you interrupt, your voice rising. "Pepper, it's insane! It’s May, and the election is in November. How could I possibly be the First Lady?"

Pepper holds up a hand, trying to calm you. "I know, I know. Let me explain."

But you're on a roll now, your initial shock giving way to indignation. "Explain what? How you thought it was okay to offer me a position that requires me to be married to a stranger? Use me to score points?”

"I understand your reaction," Pepper says calmly, "but please, hear me out. This isn't about scoring political points or creating some sham marriage. We're trying to redefine what leadership looks like in this country."

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. "Go on," you say, your voice tight, “because you’re still trotting out marriage.”

"We can’t outright ignore traditional expectations and polling numbers. If Steve were running as the nominee for either of the major parties, we could probably win without him being married, but since he’s running as an independent, he needs a wife. That being said, we want to move away from the traditional concept of the First Lady as just the President's wife," Pepper explains. "The vision is a First Partnership. Two people who work together. There’ve been a few First Ladies who have done more with their platform and position, and that’s what we would want for you, too.”

You chew on your lip, not persuaded yet, but a little less angry.

“We have an opportunity to show what a healthy partnership in marriage could look like to new generations. You’re my first and only choice because of your skills, experience, and the vision I know you would bring to the table. But you’re also my first and only choice because I think you two are well-suited for each other.”

You open your mouth to protest, but Pepper raises her hand to stop you.

“You and Steve don’t have to put on a show and be madly in love - that’s not what I want, that’s not what he wants or expects either.”

You frown. “What does he expect?” you ask. And then you perk up even more. “Has he agreed to this? Shouldn’t he at least be here to make the offer himself?”

Pepper sighs. “It was easier for me to convince him to run in the first place than to agree that he needed a wife.”

“But you’re telling me he did agree?”

Pepper nods. “He did.”

You unconsciously rub the empty space on your left ring finger. “Couldn’t we just get engaged and leave the question of a marriage for whether or not he wins?”

A soft laugh falls from Pepper’s mouth. “He actually asked the same thing.”

“And…?” You raise your eyes expectantly.

“The public would rake us over the coals and accuse us of only doing it as a publicity stunt. The campaign would become a gossip column on your relationship status and nothing more.”

“But isn’t it a publicity stunt?”

“We can spin a marriage that seems to appear out of nowhere. Steve’s always been a private person when it comes to his personal life. We will tell people you met through me - which is true. I thought you were well-suited for each other - which I do. When people asked why the wedding just before announcing his bid for the presidency, we tell them you two didn’t want your relationship status to become the big question on everyone’s minds so they can focus on the platforms and policies instead and that every marriage takes work regardless of the length of the courtship.”

You sit in stunned silence for a moment, trying to process everything Pepper has said. The idea of marrying someone you've never met, let alone becoming the First Lady of the United States, seems utterly surreal. And yet, there's a part of you that's intrigued by the challenge, by the opportunity to make a real difference on such a grand scale.

"I need some time to think about this," you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Pepper nods understandingly. "Of course. It's a lot to take in. But I want you to know that I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't think you were perfect for this role. Not just as a political partner, but as someone who could genuinely connect with Steve."

You raise an eyebrow. "You really think we'd be well-suited?"

"I do," Pepper says with confidence and warmth.

You rub your ring finger again, but this time you see Pepper’s eyes drop to watch your unconscious action, and you quickly stop. Her eyes, when you meet them again, are full of sympathy. You both lost husbands, but you don’t want to talk about it, yet again, and you don’t want to bring up a painful subject for her either.

She can read that in your tight-lipped smile.

So instead she says, “I can give you three days to think it over.”

You sigh and rise from your seat to go. “I don’t know if that’s long enough, but if you give me three days or three weeks, I don’t think it will change my decision I’ll land on. Give me the night to sleep on it. I think I’ll know by tomorrow morning.”

[JUNE 4 - Brooklyn, New York]

Three weeks later, your life has been packed up and put in a truck on its way to the new brownstone in Brooklyn that’s been acquired for you and Steve to move into, and you’re sitting at a table in a café a few blocks away, waiting to meet your future husband for the first time over breakfast. Every time the bell rings over the door, you dart your head to see if it’s him, but he’s evidently running late.

As you wait, checking to see if you have any messages on your phone, the bell over the door chimes once more. This time, when you look up, your breath catches in your throat. A tall, athletic man with dark skin and an easy smile has entered the café. You recognize him immediately as Sam Wilson, the new Captain America. Your heart sinks a little as you realize Steve isn't with him.

Sam spots you and makes his way over, his stride confident but casual. As he approaches, you notice the way his eyes scan the room, a habit born from years of military training and superhero work. He's dressed in civilian clothes - a leather jacket over a simple t-shirt and jeans - but there's no mistaking the aura of strength and capability that surrounds him.

"You must be the future Mrs. Rogers," Sam says with a warm smile, extending his hand. "I'm Sam Wilson. Steve asked me to come apologize and explain - and to have breakfast with you, if you’ll have me.”

You nod, forcing a smile, and shake his hand. "Of course. I understand.” You motion toward the chair across the table from you, inviting him to sit. “I know campaign prep must keep him incredibly busy."

Ever since you’d accepted the proposition to marry Steve Rogers and join him on the campaign trail to the White House, your own life had turned upside down, giving you hardly any time to breathe, and you’d been told this was only a mild version of what your own schedule was going to look like once Steve formally announced.

“Former President Bartlet agreed to meet with him, and the schedules ended up aligning this morning for Steve to go up to New Hampshire for a sit down,” Sam explains.

“President Bartlet?” you can’t help the awe in your voice. “I’d skip out on breakfast with me, too.”

“I hope I’m not a disappointment of a substitute,” Sam teases. “Since we’ll be working together as part of the senior staff, I volunteered because I was eager to finally meet you.”

His smile is genuine, and you feel the absolute truth of his sentiment. It melts away some of your disappointment and worry.

In return, your smile becomes a little warmer and easier. “I can’t help being a little disappointed - since I was hoping to finally meet my future husband - but he’s unemployed and you’re technically Captain America, so I guess it’s really an upgrade.”

Sam laughs. “Oh, I’m going to love you, I can tell.”

“Just promise me he’ll actually be at the ceremony tomorrow?” you ask. Your tone is light, but Sam calls your bluff.

His laughter fades, replaced by a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, he'll be there. Wild horses couldn't keep him away. Or androids. Or aliens. Or wizards. Or..." He trails off, realizing he might be overdoing it. "You get the idea."

You nod, appreciating Sam's attempt at humor. "I hope so. It would be pretty awkward to explain to the press why the groom was a no-show at his own wedding."

"Trust me, Steve takes this very seriously," Sam says, his tone becoming more earnest. "He may not know you yet, but he respects you and the commitment you're making. He's not the type to back out or let you down."

You nod, feeling a mix of relief and nervousness. "I suppose I should get used to schedule changes and last-minute adjustments," you say, trying to keep your tone light.

"It's part of the package," Sam agrees. "But so is having a team of people who have your back, no matter what." He leans forward, his eyes meeting yours intently. "I want you to know that includes me. We're not just colleagues in this; we're family."

His words touch you deeply, and you feel a bloom of warmth in your chest, the firs time you’ve felt grounded since you agreed to do this. "Thank you, Sam," you manage to say. "That means a lot."

The waitress approaches, he orders coffee, and you both order breakfast.

As she walks away, you take a sip of the drink you’d ordered while you were waiting before, mulling over Sam's words. "Can I ask you something, Sam? You know Steve better than almost anyone. Do you think...?”

You hesitate, uncertain if you should voice your doubts to Sam. But his open, friendly demeanor encourages you to continue, and you’re going to need to learn to trust this new circle of people you’ll be surrounded with.

"Do you think this is crazy?" you finally ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Marrying someone I've never even met, maybe becoming First Lady... it all feels so surreal."

Sam leans back in his chair, considering your question carefully. "Crazy? Maybe," he admits with a small smile. "But then again, I've seen a lot of crazy things in my time with the Avengers. This? This actually feels like one of the more normal things I've been part of."

You can't help but chuckle at that, some of the tension easing from your shoulders.

"Look," Sam continues, his tone becoming more serious. "I won't lie to you. It's not going to be easy. The scrutiny, the pressure, the constant demands on your time and energy - it's going to be a lot. But if anyone can handle it, it's Steve. And from what I've heard about you, I think you're up for the challenge, too."

Sam pauses as the waitress returns with your breakfasts and his coffee. Once she's gone, he continues, "Steve doesn't do anything halfway. When he commits to something, he's all in. And he's committed to this - to you, to this campaign, to trying to make a real difference."

You nod, appreciating his honesty. "And what about... us? Steve and me, I mean. Do you think we can make this work? Not just for the campaign, but as a real partnership?"

Sam's eyes soften. "Steve's one of the best men I know. He's loyal, compassionate, and has a moral compass that doesn't quit. But he's also been through a lot, and he can be... guarded. It might take some time for him to open up fully."

You absorb this information, feeling a mix of apprehension and curiosity about your future husband. "I appreciate your honesty, Sam," you say softly. "I guess we'll both be navigating uncharted waters."

Sam nods, taking a sip of his coffee before responding. "True, but you won't be doing it alone. Not only do you have the support of the team, but I think you and Steve might surprise yourselves. You both have a strong sense of purpose, a desire to help others. That's a solid foundation to build on."

You pick at your breakfast, mulling over Sam's words. "I just hope we can find some common ground beyond the campaign," you admit.

Sam leans in, his expression earnest. "Like I said, when Steve commits to something, he gives it his all. That includes relationships. He may be reserved at first, but once he lets you in, you'll have his unwavering loyalty and support."

You nod, feeling a bit more reassured. "I appreciate that. I’m not some hopeless romantic, I’m not looking to be swept off my feet, but I just hope we can find some chemistry, some spark beyond just being political partners."

Sam chuckles. "Oh, I wouldn't worry too much about that. Steve might be from the 1940s, but he's still a red-blooded man. And you," he gestures at you with his fork, "are definitely his type."

You feel your cheeks flush slightly. "His type?"

"Smart, independent, passionate about making a difference," Sam lists off. “

Your work in non-profits, your passion for social justice - that's right up Steve's alley. Plus, you've got that whole 'take no crap' vibe that he needs. I have a sense about these things, and you have it.”

You laugh, feeling some of the tension dissipate. "Well, I'll take your word for it. Though I have to admit, the idea of being Steve Rogers' 'type' is a bit surreal."

Sam grins. "Trust me, once you two actually meet, you'll see what I mean. Just don't let that 'aw shucks' routine fool you. He might look like an all-American boy scout, but there's a lot more going on under the surface."

You raise an eyebrow. "Oh? Do tell."

Sam shakes his head, still smiling. "Nah, I'll let you discover that for yourself. Where's the fun if I spoil all the surprises?"

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. "Fine, keep your secrets. But seriously, Sam, thank you. For breakfast, for the pep talk, for everything. I'm really glad I got to meet you before tomorrow."

"Me too," Sam says, raising his coffee mug in a mock toast. "To new beginnings and unexpected partnerships."

You clink your own mug against his, feeling a surge of warmth and camaraderie. As you finish your breakfast, the conversation flows easily between you and Sam. He regales you with stories of his adventures with Steve, carefully omitting any classified details but painting a vivid picture of the man you're about to marry.

You learn about Steve's dry sense of humor, his unwavering loyalty to his friends, and his surprising skill at sketching. Sam describes missions where Steve's quick thinking saved the day, but also quieter moments - movie nights with the team, intense debates over board games, and Steve's ongoing struggle to catch up on pop culture.

As Sam talks, you find yourself leaning in, captivated by these glimpses of reality, getting to know more about the man behind the myth. And even if the next twenty-four hours will be a whirlwind of you choosing and getting fitted for your wedding dress; interviewing candidates that have been vetted for your personal staff - assistant, pr strategist, stylist, initiative director; and a bachelorette party; you feel like you’ll be able to face it all with the bit of reassurance you’ve gained by spending this time with Sam.

next part: LAS VEGAS & CLEVELAND

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

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

This story will have 3-4 chapters, depending on where I split up the narrative. I anticipate about a chapter a week, usually posted on Fridays.

[midnight-mourning]

Two Animatronics Dancing—Oh, and You. You're Here Too

Holiday Spirit! au Chapter 2

*peeks into tumblr, looks around, drops this and runs*

Anywho, this chapter was a bit of a struggle for a bit there, I also just randomly felt bad so apologies for the delays, please enjoy! I went for the kill :)

having said that, Content Warning: Borderline/implied suggestive content, reader discresion is advised.

Ao3 link for those who don't wish to suffer (you should come back once you're done and read the tags and take the poll tho >:)c)

Word Count: 7306

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"Oh, I um—" You're still processing this is happening, you need to think, lest you make a fool of yourself in front of the king. 

You take a breath and bow. "My name is Y/N, your Majesty."

"Please, rise. After what you've done it's me who should be bowing to you." He chuckles, then waves you closer. "Allow me to thank you properly, if you would."

With a swallow, you walk forward, ignoring the tightening of the hold on your arm before it releases you finally. 

Once you make it to the carriage is when you finally pay attention to the others inside. Neither the younger prince nor the princess look happy to be there, though the princess seems to be greatly enjoying teasing her brother every few moments. The older prince seems aloof, annoyed, but when you catch his gaze he shoots a wink your way. 

Before you can think on it further the king is firmly clasping his hands around one of yours, shaking it. "Your quick actions have saved me quite the trouble. Might I ask how you had such knowledge?"

You give a—slightly mumbled—explanation regarding your work and your shop, to the king's delight. 

"Ah, so it's you who's been repairing my guards so quickly." The king chuckles. "I must say, fine work. Almost like new!"

You nod. "We try our best, your Majesty."

"I want to thank you for your work." The king announces, thinking for a moment, then snaps his fingers. "I'll be hosting a grand ball in three weeks’ time, I insist that you join in the festivities as the guest of honor."

Your eyes widen, putting your hands up. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the older prince—god you're terrible with names, what is it again?—straighten up slightly, small frown on his features as he watches his father.

"Oh, you're far to kind, your Grace. I wouldn't want to intrude—"

"Nonsense!" The king scoffs, then shakes his head. "No, I've decided. I'll see to it myself that you get a proper invitation." He turns away from you then, addressing the crowd. "Three cheers for the smithy!"

The crowd responds in turn and you feel like curling in on yourself. Not just because of the attention, but because of the King himself. There was something about him, something behind those eyes and that smile that you found off putting. Which, not the attitude to have towards a man who could wave his hand to decide your fate, but you're trying here. 

Soon after, the precession begins again, and continues without any further issue. You're still processing the entire ordeal however much later as you sit in the tavern up the street from your home and shop. Said shop having received an abundance of visitors in the past few hours.

Consisting of either new customers, curious festival goers, or fellow villagers congratulating you. 

You didn't even do anything that major, you just unplugged a few wires!

Your crew gave you hell about it, their teasing was incessant once they found out the news. 

It all had been so much that when Bri walked in your shop with the proposition of getting drinks like old times you all but jumped at the opportunity. Tossing off your apron and gloves and leaping into her arms—an old inside joke you used to play on each other—and with a laugh she carries you out of the shop and to the tavern. 

Now, here you were, the sun long gone and a pint in your hands that you've been nursing for the past couple hours. You'd have drank more if you firstly didn't have work tomorrow, and if you could manage to get a sip without being interrupted by a thank you or the likes. 

After the last person leaves, having been one of the chattier ones, you set your forehead on the bar with a groan. 

Bri pats your back with her free hand. "There, there, o great and powerful smithy. People are just being nice. Eat it up while it lasts."

"I think if I 'eat' anymore I'll burst." You say into the wood, then turn your head to the side to look at her. "It wasn't even that big a deal, I don't know why he made it seem like such."

Bri tsks, taking a sip of her own pint. "He's the king. A major disruption happened during an event he was present for. He has to make a big deal out of it. Especially considering how bad it could have been."

You cringe at that. You'd found out after the fact that Bonnie's malfunction had caused him to not only lose control of himself, but prior to being tackled to the ground had attempted to point his weapon at the King. That had been the lone shot you'd heard, with the miss ending up in the sky instead. 

"Just be glad it's a one and done thing, could be worse in that regard."

You sigh. "True. Very true."

"You know, I wasn't expecting to see you out today." Bri looks up down to you with a soft smile. "You've come a long way."

You scrunch your nose. "Don't remind me. It's disgusting." You protest as she flicks your nose. 

"Getting through your grief isn't disgusting, you idiot. It's an accomplishment. One you should be proud of."

You sit up finally with a stretch. "Thanks. And what about you? What's new?"

"So much, and yet, nothing at all. I've missed it here though, I've been pissed off three years in a row that I wasn't assigned to come back." Bri huffs as you laugh. 

You grab your pint, taking a sip. "Guessing it's cause of the threats?"

"That's what everyone's thinking, but personally I think there's more to it than that."

That grabs your interest. "You don't say?"

"Yeah, and I'd say it's because so many animatronics have been acting up lately, but that just started when we arrived here." Bri shakes her head. "I shouldn't be talking about this, you're probably tired."

"No!" You say, then cough, trying again. "I mean, no I um, find it interesting. I'm the one doing all the repair work, you know. Is that really the best you've all been able to come up with is just beating them senseless?"

She shakes her head again. "No, that I'm not entirely sure on, but I've noticed there's been a large number of bots stationed in certain locations throughout the castle, and town, for that matter. Places that just seem odd, you know?" She takes another sip of her pint, finishing it and waving her hand for another. "But I swear, it's when they come back from those locations—already a bit banged up mind you—that the glitches start happening."

You take all this in like sponge. Then, licking your lips you ask—"Which spots out of curiosity?"

"Town, just look anywhere that there's way too many guards. In the castle it's been the library, the west tower, and the—"

"And just what are you two chatting about?"

You turn in your seat, finding Sun is standing behind you both. Behind him is Moon. 

Bri laughs, twisting to face them both fully. "Well look who it is! Didn't expect to see you two shmucks tonight."

"Shmucks is a bit harsh." Moon quips. 

Sun nods. "We prefer the term bozos, or fools."

The three of them chat back and forth for a moment before Bri remembers what she was saying. 

She turns to face you again. "Oh right, you wanted to know about the guards—"

"So, celebrating are we?" Sun interrupts, taking a seat on the stool between yourself and Bri.

You attempt to lean around him, but he sets his elbow on the counter, head in his chin, essentially creating a wall between you and Bri.

You frown. "We were, before you jutted in."

His grin only widens a tinge. "That's not much a greeting, friend."

"Well, considering you just now decided to acknowledge me, I could say the same to you."

You hold each other's gaze until a hand is set on your shoulder; Moon. He sits on the opposite side of you, taking your free hand to press to his smile.

"They're right, Sun. Good evening, Diana. How are you?"

You scoff, small smirk on your lips as you turn to him a bit more, ignoring the ticking sound behind you, and the tapping—of what you know is—a golden claw. "Just because you gave a proper hello doesn't mean you're any better."

"Late is better than never." Moon argues.

You reach for your drink again with a nod. "To some extent, I agree with you."

"I'll take that." Moon waves to the bartender, surprising you.

You keep your eyes trained on the pint that's set in front of him, then to him when he raises it to his mouth, pausing to meet your gaze.

"Something the matter?"

You're in denial. "You can drink?"

"I'm older than I look." He chuckles.

Your eyes narrow. "That's not what I mean and you know it."

"We're living machines. We have thoughts, feelings, and pain." Sun remarks, and you turn in time to watch him sip his own drink. "With all that considered, it be cruel to not be able to."

You twist in your seat again, genuinely curious and outright confused. Be it your own impulse or the small amount of alcohol in your system, you reach up with both hands to hold his face. He's less than impressed.

You rub your thumb's over his cheeks, brow furrowed. "What material is this? It's... spongy."

"Decided to acknowledge me now, have you?" Is his mused response.

You huff. "Let's call it even. Answer the question."

"Silicon. I believe." He puts a hand on one of your wrists. "Now are you quite finished?"

You don't care to take the hint. Still examining. "No. Why the mostly constant grins then?" You glance over to Moon slightly to be able to address both of them.

"More appealing to the public eye." Sun states.

Moon shrugs. "Laziness."

You nod, releasing Sun finally and reaching for your drink. "Never seen the like before."

"Well, seems you don't know everything after all." You must have genuinely annoyed him, you can hear a whirring sound emitting from him, just above the sound of the crowded tavern.

Moon chuckles are you bluster at this. "Who said I did?"

"That's the word going around, after the show you put on today." He offers up.

"Hardly. Believe me if I knew it was going to cause that much of a fuss I wouldn't have—" You pause, remembering the alternative. "Well, I suppose I still would have."

Moon sets down his—now empty pint—waving his hand for another. "What's done is done. You did the right thing."

"Though maybe not the wise one." Sun mutters into his mug. But before you can question him on it he's looking over you to his counterpart. "I'm not helping you back if you drink yourself into a stupor."

Moon's eyes crinkle, resting his head on the back of his hand. "Aren't you such a good friend, Sunny?"

"We're not friends." He bites, looking away, cup creaking under the force his hands apply to it.

Moon must've not been expecting that response. His grin falters, then he tsks, facing forward and taking a long drink from his pint, setting it down again with a muted thud.

Silence. Then, a realization.

"Wait a moment." You lean around Sun easily this time. "Where's Bri?"

Sun hunches further over the bar. "Dancing. Left some time ago. While you were busy 'chatting'."

You glare at him at moment but say nothing more. You'll leave him to his brooding. You twist around to face the rest of the tavern, taking a moment then spying Bri among the dancing parties.

"Why that little—" You glance back between the two animatronics.

Of the two, Moon seems in higher spirits, contently musing over his drink now. You'll take your chances on him, then.

You stand, grabbing his hand. "Come on."

"You want to dance?" He sets the mug down, surprised, but stands up.

You start dragging him out to the floor. "Hardly. I want to give her 'what for' for abandoning me, but it's a partner dance and I don't want to make a scene." You turn back to him for a moment. "That a good enough reason?"

His faceplate clicks, then his surprise turns to his normal grin, snickering. "Enough for me."

"Good."

The two of you integrate into the group seamlessly. You've never been much of a dancer, but despite this, the two of you move well together. It's some jovial, upbeat, song, and you fall in step together well. Despite being much taller—and you think maybe just a tad tipsy—Moon makes a good partner. You enjoy it more than you were expecting to.

However, you remember your goal again when Bri dances by you, not a care in the world. You make eye contact and she grins at you, speaking just above the music.

"Look at you! Thought you weren't the dancing type."

You scowl. "I'm not. You left me!"

A spin about the room, then returning to your original positions.

"Oh, you were fine. I left you in good hands." She nods to Moon. "Isn't that right?"

He nods. "Indeed."

"Of course he's going to agree with you!" You huff, then shake your head. "I'll forgive you if we can finish our earlier conversation."

"Right now?" She asks and you nod. She's not even surprised, just protests. "But I'm dancing!"

You open your mouth to respond, but before you get the chance you're spun away again. You curse under your breath, glaring up to your dance partner.

"I wasn't finished." You state.

Moon bends so you're a little more eye to eye. "I know. But this isn't the time or place."

Your frown deepens. "Just how much did you hear—"

Moon takes the lead. Or at least, more so than before. The two of you begin to dance faster, grander, more elaborate. You can hardly keep up.

One moment you're on the outer edge of the circle of dancers, but now find yourself front and center, some space having been cleared out for the two of you to take the stage. The musicians begin to pick up pace to match your energy and you can't do anything more than focus on not making a fool of yourself. Much less think.

You're about to be protest being tossed around like a ragdoll when Moon spins you back into his chest, leaning down for a moment.

"Let go and let yourself enjoy the moment." He mutters, then spins you back to face him. "For once, don't worry about anyone but yourself. Please."

The sincerity in his tone makes you hesitate. Something about it striking a familiar chord. So, you relent, relaxing and letting the song take you.

Keeping up becomes easy after that. Simple. A smile growing on your face as you take joy in seeing if the animatronic can now keep up with you. And as he picks you up for a final spin you feel something you haven't for a long time. A sense of happiness you rarely feel these days. It's in that aftermath while people are cheering all around you that your eyes meet with a face watching you from the bar.

Sun's glare is scorching, posture far too relaxed for the frown he's wearing beneath that hardened gaze. Your eyes meet and your stomach twists. Triggering some long forgotten memory with faces you can't recall and names that are still deeply buried.

When you escape it, shaking your head to move it back to the recesses of your mind, you see he's facing away again, ordering another drink.

Had you been paying closer attention you'd have realized he was watching the entire time.

"Are you alright?" Moon asks and you look back to him You envy the fact that he's not out of breath like you. "I apologize. I suppose I got a bit carried away for a moment."

You take a few deep breaths, nodding. "Fine. Just next time? Ask before assuming I can keep pace."

"Won't need to." He says, leading you off the floor as another song picks back up. "Now I know your tempo."

The night ends for you sometime after that. You'd not intended to be out very long in the first place. And with those damn guards seeming hellbent on keeping you from talking to Bri—even while intoxicated themselves—there was no point to you lingering any longer. 

So, you say your goodbyes and leave the tavern, heading home. Your head hurts, either from the stress of today, or the stress for tomorrow, and maybe because of that last pint you chose to chug before leaving. Who's to say, really?

You're ever so curious to what's happening up in that castle, now more so than ever. While there's nothing you could do about it, you can't help but be concerned for what it all might mean. Not to mention, another child went missing this evening. Just before dusk this time. If your shop hadn't been flooded with spectators you'd have volunteered yourself, instead of just letting part of your crew go.

You think it may very well have been haunting you since, hence your insistence to ask about the damage to the animatronics. It was a distractor, a way to keep your mind from wandering and fretting over the what ifs. You shake away said with ifs right then and there, your siblings are safe. And you'll do everything in your power to keep it that way.

The crunch in the snow behind you alerts you to the fact you're being followed. It's late, and you have another few streets to traverse before you can get home. So, you stop. Reaching down as if to tie your boot but in reality are grabbing your knife. It's not much, but it'll get the job done when needed. And you're hoping it's not needed.

Slipping it into your sleeve, you stand up and turn around. "May I help you—you're joking."

"You're the joke if you thought you were going to walk home alone, Bright Eyes." Sun stands behind you, his tone not being nearly as intimidating as he thinks he's being with that slight sway to his stance. 

You scoff. "Some good you'll be. I can handle myself just fine, Pretty Bot." You feel your brows shoot up at that, likely matching the look on Sun's own features you're guessing. 

He relaxes quicker than you though. "You think I'm pretty? How sweet."

"Don't start. It was merely a slip of the tongue." You scowl, but take his hand when he offers it. The nickname troubles you. But you're too distracted by him leaning down into your field of view to think on it further. 

His gaze is half-lidded again, lazy. But you can still sense a sharp wit about him. "From my understanding, drinking makes you more honest, not less."

"Then I'll be blunt with you and say it was meant to be taken as an insult, how's that?" You say, marching forward finally. It's cold out here and you don't have time for his, whatever this is.

A pause as he thinks on it, nothing but the sound of your combined footsteps in the snow.

"Hurtful, but I won't hold it against you for suddenly becoming bashful."

You huff. "That's not—"

You're cut off as Sun suddenly spins you around and into a dip, bending low.

"Don't you dare drop me." You warn. Though his grip on your hand and back are firm, secure. 

He tuts. "Oh, let me have this, won't you?" He mutters something you can't quite catch, almost seeming to be staring through you before setting you upright again. Starting to walk again without another word. You call it a bit of drunken foolishness and let it go.

The streets are eerily quiet the closer you get to home. Of course, off in the distance behind you the noises of the night market still flit about. But down the road you're traveling it's nearly dead silent. It holds a peace that soothes you and your worries. 

Temporarily. 

"You shouldn't have accepted that invitation today." 

You look up to the sunny bot, brow raised. "And I suppose you believed I had much a choice in the matter?"

"You didn't." He shakes his head. 

You scoff. "Then what should I have done then? I shouldn't have accepted but I had no other choice."

"The castle is no place for someone like you." 

Your eyes narrow. "Because I'm a commoner?"

Sun stops, turning to face you. Both hands take your shoulders as he bends so you're eye to eye. 

"Because they'll eat you alive."

You swallow, frown deepening. "You're a big help now, aren't you? Appreciate the vote of confidence." You shrug yourself out of his grip, marching on without him. 

"Wait, that's not—" There's static for a moment and he rushes to catch up with you, almost falling in step quickly with his longer legs. "Please, forgive my wording, Celeste. I'm not the most fluent at the moment."

You huff. "Yeah I can tell—What did you just call me?"

"I, I'm only—" He doesn't get to finish, as right when he manages to catch up with you again, he slips on a nonvisible patch of ice, falling back into the snow. 

When you turn to look back at him, his eyes wide, you see a slight fear in his eyes at your still hardened glare. But the ridiculousness of the situation and how overtly frazzled he looks for the first time ever, makes your burst out laughing. You clutch your stomach and throw your head back, not a care in the world for who may hear you. 

It takes you several moments to calm down enough to lower your volume to quiet giggling, looking back to him with tears in your eyes. 

"I, I haven't laughed that hard in years. Thank you."

You see his rays spin, able to do so with his hat lying abandoned in the snow. Then, he shakes his head, grumbling as he tries to collect himself to stand. 

"Here, take my hand you drunken klutz,"—you extend it down to him, giggling again while he looks for his hat—"Behind you, Pretty Bot."

He twists around, grabs it, and before you can think further his free hand grips your own, and pulls you down with him. Your eyes widen, stumbling and falling on top of him, your knees landing hard on the packed snow around his torso. 

"Ow." You groan, looking down for a moment, before glancing back up to tell him off. "Was that really necessary—" You cut yourself off, you weren't expecting to be just inches apart. 

His hand comes up to hold your cheek, eyes focused intensely on you. "Yes. Definitely." 

You just stare at each other for a moment, well, you more so at him. It finally clicks what he's looking at when his thumb swipes over your lips. Your cheeks start to burn and you cough. 

"Your hand's cold. And my knees hurt. So I'm getting up now."

You don't have to shift out of his grip, he release you himself, hand letting go as if he'd been burnt. He keeps that same troubled look on his face as you both stand up and start walking again. At this rate you'll be surprised if you ever get home. 

But, you finally turn the corner for your street soon enough, the pull of being in your bed growing stronger by the minute. 

"What did you mean that you hadn't laughed that hard in years?" Sun asks in the quiet.

You shove your hands deeper in your pockets, looking to the ground. "What did you mean by 'they'll eat you alive'?"

Silence. 

"You first."

You scoff, but relent. "I'd say it was the grief, but that's only been a year or so." You shake your head. "I lost a part of myself to someone, a long time ago. They took my laughter with them." Your hand comes up to your necklace gripping it tight before releasing it. "Your turn."

"The two you ran into on the street last week are nothing in comparison to actual nobility. They see everyone around them as lesser, including those at the same or higher ranking to them. And I fear should you attend in three week's that we won't—" Sun falters, shrinking in on himself. "That I won't, be able to protect you."

You mull over his words. "Who cares?"

"Pardon?" He looks over to you, drawn out of his thoughts. 

You stop walking, turning to him and poking a finger into his chest. "Why would anyone care what happens to me, especially you? You hardly know me."

"Hardly know you—" He stands straight now, towering over you. "Why do you have such a lack of care for yourself? And why would time matter so much regarding whether I care for your safety or don't?  I—let me ask you, that child that went missing yesterday, or the one today, do you have any connection to them?"

You shake your head. "None at all."

"And yet, you went searching for them last night, and would have tonight as well had you been able to, no?"

"Of course. Without question." You shrug. "What's your point?"

Sun stares at you a moment, then laughs, bringing his hand up to his faceplate and gripping one of the rays at the top of his head. "You've answered your own question, Celeste. And mine." He shakes his head, looking back to you. "Do your knees still hurt?"

"Terribly. Thanks a lot."

He nods. "Thought so. My apologies, allow me to remedy it." Before you can think, he's scooping you up, one arm under the back of your thighs, the other your shoulders as he carries you bridal style the rest of the way to your home. 

Flustered, you allow it to happen, assuming he'll set you down once you get to the door. 

"Do you have your key?" He asks, not setting you down. 

"I, it's unlocked."

He nods, taking a moment to open it and then bending his head to step inside. He locks the door for you, then turns around with you still in his arms. Seems he was serious about this. 

Your living room is quiet, dark, and you spare a glance at Clara asleep on the couch as Sun takes muted steps back through to your kitchen, then up your stairs when you point to them. 

"You have a lovely home." He murmurs when he reaches the top. 

"Thanks." You whisper back. "My room's at the end of the hall, but stop in the nursery for a moment."

Sun obeys, allowing you to peek in and see that Gabe and Lisa are both sound asleep. You feel lighter as Sun walks the remaining way to your room.  He sets you on the bed, stepping back once he does so. The comfort of your bed underneath you almost makes you want to flop back then and there to sleep, but you resist the urge and take off your shoes and coat. 

You get up and walk past Sun to set them by your bedroom door, snatching up your sleepwear as you do so. You walk back and around to the opposite side of the bed, staring at him as he simply looks on. 

You make a circle motion with your finger. "You mind turning around? I don't have one of those fancy room dividers."

His rays spin again, hat tight in his hands. "Oh! Um, sorry. I should, leave." He turns to go. "Have a good night—"

"Stay." You just manage to snatch his wrist, having had to climb up onto the bed and reach out for him. 

He glances back to you, eyes wide. 

You shake your head. "It's late, it's cold, and I doubt you have enough of your wits about you to make it back to where you belong alive. Not after you're little spill earlier." You chuckle, then nod. "It's fine. Stay."

His rays tick to the left a few times, then to the right. Then, he nods. "Okay."

You let him go, sitting back and he turns around once more, unmoving this time. 

"The other two going to be alright without you?" You ask as you slip out of your clothes. 

Sun nods. "I told Montgomery where we'd be earlier this evening. And Captain Perry is more than capable of handling her own." He chuckles. "And her liquor. Of the two it would be Moon that would be of concern, but they'll be fine."

You snicker. "That's Bri for yah. And captain huh? She's been busy." You realize that your knife is missing, and you start looking around for it. "Shit, where did I put that..."

"You dropped this in the snow earlier." Sun holds up your knife, still facing away. "Such a large weapon for a small thing like you."

You scoff, climbing back over the bed to take it from him. "Hardly much at all. Do you consider everyone shorter than you to be 'a small thing'?"

He snatches your wrist then, turning slightly to face you. slight grin on his features. "Truthfully yes. But especially those who take more risks than they should, like an immature teenager."

"I'm two seconds away from headbutting you right in that smart mouth of yours." You mutter. 

"Proving my point~"

You take your wrist, and your knife back. "You know. I could have still been half-dressed. Then you would've seemed like a creep just now instead of slightly humorous."

That stupes him. He stutters out a rebuttal as you set your knife on the nightstand on the left side of the bed, laying back on it a moment later. 

"Well? Don't just stand there." You pat the bed beside you. "You're sleeping in here so I can keep an eye on you."

It takes him a moment, then he sits down with a tsk. "I have no reason to harm anyone in this house."

"I have no reason to trust your words." 

Sun removes his boots, then reaches up to unbutton his coat, revealing a white undershirt soon thereafter. "You trust me in your home but you don't trust the things I say?"

"Action speak louder than words." You quip as he folds the coat, setting it on the end of bed with his hat. The last thing he removes is the claw from his index finger, setting it on the nightstand on his side. "Not the gloves?"

"You wouldn't like my hands." He says, laying down, then turning over to face you. 

You remember the feeling of that claw on your face earlier in the night. You wonder what's so wrong with his hands if he believes they're any worse than that. 

"You're bed is small."

You huff. "It's not built for nine foot tall animatronics, you mean."

"Just eight, though I know someone of your height and stature could hardly tell. The entire world must feel large to you." He snickers as you roll your eyes. 

You feel bold, your last minute drink seeming to hit you now of all times. You grabbed his clothed shoulder, pulling him closer. "Then curl up a bit then. Make the most of the space."

Before he can protest, you reach down and pull his legs up, and then entangle with yours. 

Seeing his wide-eyed, open-mouth stare you scoff, ignoring the heat on your cheeks. "What? You think you're the only man I've shared a bed with? Only person for that matter? I was stuck in the nursery with Lisa for seven years, and she is simultaneously a cuddler and a kicker."

"I, I s-see." Is his only response. 

Now you can't ignore the burning across your face and ears. "It's only weird if you make it weird."

"Weird? I'm not making it weird, you're the one who's bringing it up!"

"Because you're giving me that look, stop it!" You hiss.

His hands come up and over his face, muttering something. 

Your face is on fire now. "Since when are you bashful? Seriously, this is nothing—"

"Your knee, Celeste. For the love of the stars, move your knee." He manages to get out. 

You glance down. "What—oh." You quickly pull it back towards your body. "Sorry."

"I can't understand you." He shakes his head, finally letting go of his face. "Not in the slightest bit."

"Maybe that's intentional." You chuckle as he scoffs. 

Sun glances over to you again, resting one hand by his head. "You're incredibly smart and yet, so foolish. Selfless to a fault and again, foolish because of it. You cautious to trust anyone, and yet you'll invite them into your home and your bed, and then act as if it's nothing! I just, you're so confounding."

"Would you like to know a secret?" You ask in the quiet. 

"I suppose I have nothing better to do."

You laugh softly. "I don't know why I do the things I do sometimes. Life's complex, it's made me complex. Even I can't wrap my head around it sometimes." You shake your head, looking away for a moment then back. "There's just, something about you that made me decide you should stay. And that's all there is to it."

Sun nods after a moment or two. Then—

"That's a piss poor answer, Bright Eyes."

The days that follow are filled with you doing your best to evade the two animatronic guards. Not because of what happened that night with either of them, though. Rather, you're trying to find out what's happening to their compatriots after your tip from Bri.

It's nothing more than a curiosity at first, but it occurs to you that they're actively trying to stop you from investigating further. Which only serves to take your curiosity to genuine interest, then to zealous inquisitiveness that almost starts to eat away at you a bit. Every nook and cranny you seek to turn over, they're there to lead you away or distract in some manner from it. The elephant in the room has doubled in size, and it's only a matter of time before it breaks through the floorboards, sending you all tumbling down. 

Not to mention, every night, like clockwork, there's a report of another missing child. The total number having grown to six. Everyone's in a panic, and very little can be done to soothe the worries of those who are fortunate enough to still have all their children accounted for. Yourself included. 

Despite their overall annoying presence the past week, you cannot deny that you do feel safer having one of them nearby while you go to and fro with your siblings in tow. 

There's something going on here, and you don't know the connection point but something has to be related between all of this, there's no way there isn't some link. The disappearances started occurring after the festival began, and Bri told you there wasn't these glitches happening back in the capital. But what relation the two have to each other, you don't know. 

And how the two guards watching your every move fit into it, you couldn't make sense of that in the slightest. 

"Musing to yourself, Diana?"

"Something like that." You mutter into your cup.

You were sitting on a bench near the grand tree in the town square. Lisa had asked you if you could visit the festival again today, and needing a bit of break yourself—for more reasons than one—you agreed. 

Gabe's sitting on the ground beside you, playing in the snow, while Lisa dragged the sunnier of the two guards out to dance with her among the others gathered in the square. Though, he didn't seem to mind. To his credit, he had seemed to prove to you he was good with kids.

Moon as well, as he bends down to toss some snow on Gabe's legs. Your little brother giggling and smacking his gloved hands into it. 

Moon sits up again, chuckling and nodding to your mug. "With how tightly your gripping that, I'd say you need something stronger."

"Shit. Sorry." You relax your hold. 

He takes it from you, taking a drink himself. "No need to apologize to me. It's not my mug."

"There's just, a lot on my mind." You sigh and lay back against the bench. "Too many things happening in what's supposed to be a quiet village."

"A lot of them aren't your problem though, are they."

You scoff. "They are and they aren't. Your pals are coming in to me by the dozen daily. Can't help but wonder as to why. Because we both know there's more than just, glitches, happening."

"And why do you think that?" There's still a cheekiness to his tone, but there's an edge of something else underneath. 

You look over to him. "Because neither of you have shown up once in over two weeks. I'm getting repeat customers by now, and yet, not a lick of damage to either one of you. I've been checking."

Moon stays quiet, but you hear the tiniest little creak on the mug. You continue. "And I think we both know this is past the point of coincidences. Wouldn't you say?"

He doesn't. He says nothing at all as he hands your mug back and you take another drink, downing the remaining warm liquid.

"And besides that, my bigger overall concern is keeping my siblings safe, first and foremost." You reach down and ruffle the hat on Gabe's head, eyes on Lisa as she spins about, not a care in the world. "I'm starting to worry about how well I'm able to do that."

You're surprised by a touch to your shoulder, jumping as you see Moon's much closer now. 

With a tenderness you weren't expecting at that moment, his hand moves to your cheek, words murmured, but firm. "Nothing is going to happen to them. I won't allow it. We won't allow it."

"You can't guarantee me that." You counter. 

"I can and I will. Rest assured, your siblings are safe, but if you keep up this meddling then—"

"Then what, Moon?" You feel your frustration rising again, but keep your voice even. "What do you know that you're so obviously hiding? What are you trying to keep me from finding out? Are you in on this? Should I be scared?"

This angers him, grip tightening just a tinge. "No, never! How could you think such a thing?"

"You haven't give me much reason to think otherwise based on your actions—ah!" You jump, pulling back after feeling a sting against your cheek. Reaching up, you touch the spot, pulling away to see a small speck of blood. 

Looking over to Moon, he's horrified, eyes wide as he stares at your hand. 

"Selene I—" He reaches out for you, then sees the claw and buries his hand against himself. "I'm so sorry."

You put your hand to the spot again, an even smaller drop appearing on your finger. It was just a prick. A tiny one. You relax. "It's fine. You hadn't meant to."

"That's no excuse." He searches around, finding a handkerchief on his person and handing it to you.

You wave him away. "There's no need for that—"

He takes your hand, setting the cloth in it and folding your fingers around it. "Take it. Please." He squeezes your hand gently before letting go. 

You raise the handkerchief to your cheek, holding it there for a moment before pulling away. However, Moon insists you keep it there for longer, pressing his own hand against the back of yours for a bit to ensure you do. 

"I apologize for accusing you. It was wrong of me." You say, watching the dancers once more. 

Moon chuckles, it's half-hearted. "You have a right to be suspicious. I understand."

"That's no excuse." You repeat his words from earlier, glancing back to him with a small smile. 

It takes him a moment, then he laughs again, more genuine this time. 

"Hey! Time's up!"

Both of you turn to see Lisa standing in front of you, hands on her hips. 

You raise a brow. "Time's up for what?"

"It's my turn to hang out with Mr. Moon!" She says, huffing. "He promised he'd help me build a snowman for the competition!"

Moon laughs, standing up. "I was going to keep my promise. But I didn't want to interrupt your dancing."

Your sister turns to you pointing at you, then behind her. "It's your turn to dance with Mr. Sun."

"I, what?" You ask. "Lisa I'm not—"

She grabs your free hand, pulling on you with a strength no eight year old should have. "Hurry up! He's going to look silly if he doesn't have a partner when the next song starts!"

"Go on, I'm more than capable of watching them both." Moon urges and helps you to your feet. "Allow me the chance to prove that I mean what I say. If you may."

You glance back to him for a moment, then over to where Sun stands, sending you a wave with a mischievous glint in his eye. He did this on purpose. You turn back to Moon with a nod, offering him back his handkerchief, he shakes his head. 

"Keep it. I have no need for it."

You nod again, stuffing it in your pocket and looking down to your sister. You flick her forehead and she protests, releasing you finally. You bend down to her height, stern. "Have fun, but behave." You ruffle her hand and stand up again. "Love you."

She grumbles out a 'Love you too' and runs over to Moon, who picks up your brother. You give them a final wave goodbye as you walk over to where Sun stands, hands behind his back, grin as wide as ever. 

"You're not clever." You quip. 

He rolls on the balls of his feet, then offers his hand to you with a bow. "And you, owe me a dance."

"Keeping score are you?" You take his hand and he leads you into a spin amongst the other dancers. "I'd say you're well ahead if that's the case."

Much like his counterpart, he dances well, leading you effortlessly through the song. "Ah, ah. Let's keep that little bit of information to ourselves, shall we? We wouldn't want the wrong people to hear about it."

You laugh, shocked. "And you're cheating! My, my. I took you for a lot of things, a cheater wasn't one of them."

"Cheating implies I've done something unfair, but is it unfair if he was doing it first?"

"'He started it!'" You mock. "That's you, that's what you sound like."

Sun hums, but you see that small twitch in his eye that makes you grin. 

"You're better at this than I'd thought you be." He examines. 

You huff. "I take it back. Now you're losing severely."

"That's not up to you to decide." He thinks for a moment. "But if it was, are you say, open to bribery?"

You laugh outright, and shake your head. Maybe Moon was on to something when he said you should just let go when you dance. Let it take your worries away for a while and just enjoy the moment. 

Because wow, if it isn't something when you do.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

And to think, we still have four more chapters :D Just you wait, it gets so much worse. (for you. me personally? having the time of my life)

Well, thanks for reading!

Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info, you can also dm me!):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay

Bonus:

I left it up to fate that Sun would spend the night, like deadass (proof below)

So you can thank the wheel for that.

Buuuuttt I have another thing I'm debating (not nearly as intimate don't get getting ideas on me now) So,

What this was for will be revealed in the next chapter, and your implicit biases WILL be shown and i WILL tease you all for it /j

[joelsprettyprincess]

Taming of the Shrew - Part 3

Pairing: dark!Arthur Morgan x f!reader Summary: Desperate times call for desperate measures. Series-wide tags: Toxic relationships, manipulation, obsessive behavior, smut, secretly unprotected piv, babytrapping, pregnancy, canon-typical violence, slight canon-typical misogyny. Wordcount: 3.4k A/N: This is the final part to this mini-series! I meant to upload it last night but I added in some things last minute. Thank yall so much for all the love on the first two parts, and thank you for reading!! As always, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Tags: @dandelion-ranch @i-will-give-you-love @amaranth-writing @heloixe @buneio @warmsideofthepillow03 @thoughts-of-bear @luzzbuzz @batmandallyboy

Part 2

You remained holed up in your room all day, alternating between sobbing and staring blankly at the wall. No matter what transpired, your life was irreversibly altered. Even if you gave away the baby and came home, you would still be the loose hussy. The unruly girl. Doomed to a life of being a spinster and an example to the younger girls in town.

At some point you started praying, hoping God would hear you and somehow lift you from this awful predicament.

All too soon, Elisabeth knocked on the door, saying you were being summoned to the sitting room. You were on edge; it felt like you could feel your individual neurons pulsing and transmitting a network of regret all over your body.

You dragged your feet downstairs and trudged to the sitting room, feeling like you were approaching the guillotine. 

Your two executioners sat on the couch. Your mother had an angry, nasty look on her face while your father seemed a bit apprehensive. It was clear she hadn’t told him yet, choosing instead to let him wonder.

“Sit down,” your mother said icily.

You sat. 

“Our lovely daughter has something to tell us, darling,” she said in a sickly sweet voice. 

You were starting to think she was genuinely evil. You kept silent. Lord, save me. 

“Go on, don’t be shy.” Your mother chuckled. “Or shall I?”

There was no way you were going to admit to your father what you’d done. Eating nails would be preferable to this.

She scoffed. “Alright then. Our daughter…this woman…has gone and got herself with child.”

Both you and your father flinched, him with surprise and you with shame. You bowed your head low. Your secret was out in the open now. 

“With child?” he repeated incredulously. “How?”

How, indeed.

“That is the question,” your mother said. “She won’t tell me who the father is, or she doesn’t know.”

Your father struggled to form words. You didn't dare meet their gazes.

“Is this true?” he finally asked you.

Of course it was true. It was the worst, most painful truth of your life. “Yes,” you admitted in a tiny voice.

He shook his head in disappointment. “I just don't understand how this could happen,” he remarked. “What happened to our little girl?”

You hadn’t been a little girl in a long time, but you didn’t bother pointing this out.

“Do you have any idea who the father is?” your mother demanded. “Or are you such a loose hussy that it could be any man in town? Is that what you’ve been doing every time you sneak out? Answer me!” 

I hate you.

You put your head in your hands and sobbed. 

Your mother sighed. “Now I suppose you’ll wash my feet with your tears next? Stop with the crocodile tears. If you thought yourself mature enough to partake in such activities, you’re surely smart enough to know the consequences.”

The tears came harder and faster. You could barely stand to be here any longer. This was pure torture. You just wanted…well, what you wanted was far away right now, and also the cause of your problems. 

“I’m sending you to the nunnery,” your mother announced, raising her voice above your noisy sobs. “Until this…issue is resolved. You clearly need the fear of God put into you.”

Anything but that! “No!” you cried. “No, please, I can’t! Mother, please!”

“We have no other choice,” she replied flatly. “I will not allow you to bring shame upon this family. Now, you’re dismissed back to your room and don’t you dare try to leave and corrupt anyone else with the knowledge of your actions. Just the sight of you disgusts me.”

“Father,” you pleaded. “Don’t let her do this!”

Your father, the coward, was already standing up. “Well, I don’t think I should disagree with your mother-”

“To your room,” your mother spoke angrily.

You ran out of the room, despaired, fearful, and angry all at once.

It had been less than 3 days since your parents were made aware of your pregnancy, and your mother moved like she had firecrackers under her feet, directing the packing up of your room.

You were being sent to a convent north of Valentine, many, many miles away. According to your mother, you would stay there until the baby was born and either raise it there or give it away. 

“If you ever return here, I have no desire to see a crying brat with you,” your mother told you bluntly. What a pleasant woman.

Well, you were not going to any nunnery, that was for sure. You had a plan. An admittedly rough around the edges one, but a plan nonetheless.

Late at night, you quietly packed a large satchel with clothes and essentials. You were getting the hell out of here, and you were going to track down Arthur.

It was his fault this was happening, and you would refuse to leave until he took responsibility. As much as you hated the idea of groveling at his feet, you had no other options. Raising a baby by yourself was basically unheard of, and you were almost certain to screw it up somehow.

The gang was no longer hiding at Clemen’s Point. You knew this because you’d (ashamedly) ridden down to see Arthur about a month after your final meeting, and saw that the land was abandoned.

At the time you figured it was best he was gone. That toxic energy was better off not being in your life, and so what if you craved his red-hot touch every single day, and touched yourself thinking of him, hoping to replicate the feel of his thick fingers massaging your pussy?

Anyway, you had an idea of where he was. He’d told you before that the gang would probably move further east to outrun the Pinkertons, and he’d expressed his distaste of Saint Denis. 

So, he was possibly somewhere near Saint Denis, maybe on the outskirts. You’d have to ask around a bit. It would be a daunting task– a single, defenseless woman in a big, strange city. 

Not to mention pregnant. Maybe you should have taken those shooting lessons after all.

And it wasn’t like he was waiting for you there– surely the gang was laying low, after that crazy shootout with the Grays in town.

You finished packing and sneaked downstairs, careful to stick to the edge of the stairway. Your parents were apparently asleep, and only some of the help was awake this late.

Elisabeth, as kind as she was, couldn’t be trusted. She was in the pay of your mother and therefore on the enemy’s side.

So you had no one, no companion but your horse, Maverick. He was a very dependable creature and honestly your only friend. 

You attached your satchel to his saddle, then got on and quietly directed him off the property. Luckily the help wasn’t paid to ask questions, so no one batted an eye as you passed by. 

You didn’t dare make a sound, or even breathe, until the manor disappeared from view, and all you could see for miles was the forest and the midnight blue sky.

Sighing in relief, you sped up almost to a gallop, going towards Saint Denis. It wasn’t a terribly long ride, but it was long enough and made more difficult by worrying about your…Arthur’s...child. You still couldn’t quite get used to saying that. 

After some time, you arrived in Saint Denis. It was about 12am, and you were eager to be off the road after getting lost several times and nearly falling into a swamp. You led Maverick to a hotel, where you purchased a room for the night.

You laid down on the bed. It wasn’t nearly as comfortable as the one back home, but it was miles away from your troubles. That was the important bit.

Snuggling into the pillow, you sighed deeply, formulating a plan to look for Arthur. You would try the saloon first; he’d spent a lot of time there in Rhodes, and you were sure he hadn’t changed that habit. After that, perhaps the post office, or the stables. 

You fell asleep dreaming of his beard scratching against your face and his fingers exploring your filthiest bits.

The next morning, you rode over to the saloon and inquired about Arthur with the bartender. “Tall, broad, very handsome, with brown hair,” you explained. “Looks like a gunslinger.”

“Oh yes, him and his pals have come here a few times,” the bartender exclaimed. “They was just down here last night, even.”

Dammit. You’d just missed him. But that confirmed he was in Saint Denis. “Did he say anything about where he was staying?”

He shook his head. “No ma’am, not that I can recall. But just turn up here ‘round six and he’ll surely be here.”

That was that, then. You would come back to the bar later tonight and catch him.

You left the saloon and remounted Maverick in hopeful spirits. Now that you knew for sure he was here, it was okay to relax a bit. And you definitely felt worn out after that long journey.

You stopped by the general store to get some fresh food and an apple for Maverick. A bit of rum would have taken the edge off, but you supposed it wasn’t good given your…condition.

Arriving back at the hotel, you bathed and washed your hair. As silly as it probably was, you wanted to look nice for Arthur. To show that you were a survivor.

Your thoughts drifted. What kind of a father would he be? What kind of family unit would you be? What with him still on the run, still following that silver-tongued Dutch, it would be difficult for you to run from place to place with him. Perhaps he would just tell you to get a room in Saint Denis and he would visit when he could. What if he walked out of your life one day, and never entered it again?

A scenario like that would effectively doom you for life. You weren’t certain you could stomach giving the baby away, but the thought of raising a child with no money or prior knowledge made you equally queasy. 

But even if Arthur let you stay with him– what then? You’d seen the mess that was John Marston’s relationship with his family. And Jack, the little boy. Did you want your child in the same circumstances?

Arthur is not like John, you told yourself firmly. But really, you had no way to tell until he knew.

You spent the day milling about Saint Denis, exploring the markets and seeing the many entertainers on the streets. The people were definitely ruder here, more coarse and quick to anger. It almost made you miss Rhodes.

Almost, anyway.

At about six o’clock you came back to the saloon. Your heart was pounding like crazy, and you mentally prepared yourself for what you were going to say.

Arthur, I’m expecting.

Arthur, I’m pregnant…and it’s yours.

Please help me.

I’ve nowhere else to go.

Please?

You opened the doors, swallowing hard and gritting your teeth.

“Arthur,” you squeaked, then looked around. It was quite full of businessmen, factory workers, and the odd prostitute. 

You carefully took a pace around the room, searching for that familiar form. You looked all over, but didn’t hear him nor see him. Nor anyone from the gang.

Sidling up to the bartender (a different one this time), you asked, “Excuse me, sir, have you seen a…a gunslinger-type fellow here? Brown hair with a beard. Super handsome. You would remember him.”

He thought for a bit while pouring glasses. “Don’t think so, madam. But a lot of people come through here, I might just not remember. If you don’t see him here, you can sit near the door, watch it n’ see if he comes in.”

Sigh. “Alright, thank you kindly.”

You took up a post near the door, awkwardly clutching your satchel, examining everyone that came through the door. More men, some women, even a couple rough-looking folks that looked like the company Arthur kept. But no Arthur.

Unbelievable. Had the bartender from yesterday been mistaken? Or did the gang skip town already?...Most likely, it was just a fluke and they decided not to come today. Dammit!

After about half an hour of waiting, you gave up, just wanting to lie down. You dejectedly got up and exited the saloon.

However, as soon as you did, you almost ran face first into someone’s horse.

The horse nearly trampled you, and you screamed in fear as you tripped and fell to the ground.

“What the hell?!” you cried, shaken. What idiot couldn’t control their horse?

“Dammit, sorry, lady,” a gruff voice spoke. The man got his horse under control after a bit of calming. “You okay– wait…do I know you?”

You got up, dusting off your skirt, looked closer at the man and gasped. It was Bill Williamson, another member of the Van Der Linde gang!

This was an extremely lucky situation. “Bill?” you asked, praying you were right.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “Ain’t you…wasn’t you Arthur’s little thing?”

You crossed your arms. “Yes, I know Arthur. Is he here?”

Bill shook his head. “No, he’s back at camp–, err, well, no. He ain’t here. You know, he acted mighty strange after you left–”

“Can you take me to him? Please, Bill,” you begged. “It’s imperative.”

He sighed and scratched his nose. “I was plannin’ on gettin’ drunk…but I s’pose so. But keep your voice down, we’re not exactly best buds with the Pinkertons right now. You got a horse?”

“I do.” 

You quickly mounted Maverick, then followed Bill out of Saint Denis towards the gang’s camp. You were practically buzzing with nervousness. The courage you’d had last night had been used up, and now you were just scared. Would he reject you, force you back to your parents? Or claim that the baby wasn’t his? What if he had a new girl?!

You cleared your throat. “Has he…err, has Arthur…been seeing anyone else since I left?”

Bill laughed. “Arthur? Hell no. I swear, all he talks about is you. Back in Rhodes, he swore up and down you would be back soon. Heh, we all had a good laugh at him then. But I guess the joke’s on us, now that you’re here.”

Well, that was good at least. But why was he so sure you would be back? You’d mutually agreed never to contact each other again.

It was kind of ironic. You’d insisted on cutting him off, yet here you were, chasing him down.

After a few minutes of riding, you finally arrived at the dilapidated house the gang was calling their home. It looked more like a demolition zone to you, but you supposed they would take what they could get after Rhodes.

“Here we are, little lady,” Bill announced. “Arthur!”

You dismounted your horse and went into the main campsite. Karen, Javier, Charles…the gang was all here. You got a few greetings and hand waves from the women.

“Arthur,” Bill barked. “You got a visitor, get out here!”

You stood awkwardly by the entrance of the house, looking in the propped open door, waiting for Arthur with bated breath.

Dutch was sitting by the front door, reading. He looked up when you approached. “Well, welcome back, sweetheart,” he said in that demeaning voice. “You wasn’t followed, were you? A lot of people want us dead right now.”

“Err, no sir, I don’t think so,” you squeaked. Dutch made you uncomfortable. You got the feeling he thought of women as delicate creatures that were lesser than men. Even with the few times you’d been to camp, you had heard the cruel words he flung at and about Molly.

You just hoped none of it had rubbed off on Arthur. You knew he was fiercely loyal to the man.

Heavy footsteps could be heard from inside the house. “Alright, I’m comin’, shut up,” a familiar voice grunted.

A lightning strike bolted down between your legs and you gasped softly when Arthur’s familiar, muscular form filled your vision.

“What-” he started, then froze when his eyes landed on you. His lips parted, but no words came out for a second. “You-”

“Arthur,” you whispered.

This was the greatest day of his life.

Arthur was certain he’d failed to impregnate you. That you’d been living fine all this time, not sparing a single thought to his well being.

But you were here. You’d hunted him down, somehow, and you looked scared out of your mind. And he could guess why.

He licked his lips. “What’re you doin’ here, sweetheart?”

You stared at him for a good few seconds, transfixed by his rugged beauty. “Can we talk somewhere private?”

Arthur took you to the back of the house. The two of you sat in the grass, legs crossed.

“How’d you find me?” he asked.

“By chance,” you said. “I knew you went east, so I asked around at Saint Denis– then I ran straight into Bill.”

He nodded. “You…you got somethin’ to tell me?”

You took a deep breath. Now that the moment was actually here, every nerve in your body was thrumming with anticipation. “I’m…well, actually, I’m…pregnant.”

The only sound was the chirping of birds. 

“Excuse me?” he said quietly.

You felt ashamed. “I’m with child, Arthur. My parents done kicked me out because of it. S’why I came here.”

“You’re pregnant,” he said slowly, like he’d never heard the word before.

“Yes. And you’re the father for sure.”

He stayed silent for a bit, but you could hear his breath accelerate sharply.

You felt scared of what he was thinking. “Arthur?”

After a long period of silence, he said, “Are you showin’ yet?”

What an odd question. “A little.”

“Can I see?”

What? But you obliged, letting him lift up your skirt high enough to show off your bump.

Arthur inhaled sharply, then put his hand on your belly. “That’s– that’s my baby,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“I’m about 4 months along, I think,” you said, fixing your clothes. “So…so are you going to…step up? I don’t have anyone else, Arthur.” Your voice turned squeaky and desperate, and tears threatened to fall from your eyes. “My parents wanted to send me to a convent–”

“Baby, hey, shh. I can promise you I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Arthur said hoarsely. “You’re staying here with me.”

You felt butterflies in your stomach at his declaration. He was such a…man. Never afraid to take responsibility or action. You were supremely glad that he was going to take care of you and the baby. However long the gang could outrun the Pinkertons, he would, you knew it.

Arthur embraced you, curving his hands around your stomach and kissing your cheek. The two of you rocked back and forth for a minute, in unadulterated bliss. Everything melted away: the camp, the law, your parents. It was just you and him. And the baby between you.

"Told ya, you belong with me," he whispered in your ear.

Arthur was right. You came back again and again and again because you craved the action. You craved excitement and freedom and yes, even bloodshed to a certain extent. There was no use trying to leave him when he represented everything you wanted in life, even the most sinful things.

He was made for you.

Arthur hustled you back up to where Dutch was, fighting a raging erection. Seeing his girl growing round with his baby was insanely satisfying. He felt that was an appropriate reward for everything he had worked for.

And now you were certain to be stuck with him. With a baby in you, you couldn’t do much of anything, much less run away again. He would gently insist that you stay in Shady Belle to recuperate from your no doubt difficult journey east, then as the months went by you would grow more and more dependent on him, stomach getting bigger every day, till you needed his help with the simplest tasks.

He would do it all for you. All this time, Arthur had tried to make you see that your place was by his side. It was just unfortunate that he’d had to resort to deceit to make you realize the truth.

But no matter. All was forgiven. He couldn’t wait to see your pregnant body and show you off to everyone in camp.

And just maybe he would put another kid or two in you, in case you had any doubts after the first one.

Arthur sighed in contentment as he approached Dutch to explain the situation. No matter what, he knew your love was genuine. It burned brighter than the sun, certain to destroy anyone that dared cross its path.

You, him, and your child– you would make a picture perfect family. He was certain of it.

End.

[catherinnn]

Unspoken Truths

Steddie x fem!reader

as requested, this is a part 2 of Truth or Dare Harrington?

summary: there are fears and unspoken truths among the three of you the morning after, yet desires and feelings as well, threatening your so-called friendship. Would you still dare to choose truth now?

warnings: porn with plot, a lot of smut (+18!!), some angst and some fluff for balance. pin, unprotected sex (please don't do this, this is fiction), oral (f), masturbation (male), cum play, crampie, fingering, degrading, praises. lmk if i missed anything!

words: 4.8k masterlist

You start becoming aware of the soft feeling of the sheet on your skin, your breathing pattern and the comfortable heaviness in your limbs. You open your eyes and roll away to be on your back, then stretch out as you let out a big yawn.

When the memories from last night come back, you realize you're alone in your bed when you went to sleep with two other persons in here.

After you throw on a shirt, empty your bladder and brush your teeth, you go to the kitchen to finally have something to eat. That's when you find the two missing people.

Eddie and Steve are standing on your kitchen having coffee and toasts, barely dressed. You should have noticed the shirts still resting on your bedroom floor.

"Finally, I thought you were dead" Steve says as he sees you. "You sleep more than Eddie, you should be worried about that"

"Oh, leave her alone. She had a long night" Eddie teases you.

"When did you two wake up?" you ask.

"I woke up twenty minutes ago, Eddie like ten minutes ago" Steve says as he grabs another mug. "You want coffee?"

"Yes, please"

You don't know how to describe it, but the air around you three feels thick with a certain tension. Uncomfortable and uncertain.

How does this work now? What happens to the three of you after last night?

It's weird to feel this way with both of them, they have been such good friends to you over all these years. Did you ruin everything?

"Hey, so ummm, how does this work now? Are we back to being friends?" Steve asks after a long silence.

"I would say so, yeah" Eddie confirms. "I mean, it's not like... we can do anything, there's three of us"

"No, obviously" you say.

It feels a little disappointing. You don't know what you were expecting to be honest, but it was not to just go back to normal. Act like it never happened. But Eddie said it best, it's not like you can date both of them at the same time, you also didn't feel like you could choose just one of them.

The weeks passed by, you try to at least act as if everything is normal among you three. But it was hard.

What you didn't know is that the boys felt the same. It was near impossible to ignore, or let alone, forget how each of you kissed and moaned.

Eddie was in hell right now, he was certain of it. Karma had gotten to him.

He played at The Hideout this Thursday like every other week. But this week, you came to see him too. You usually did, it's not like this was the first time you had seen him perform, but it was the first time after that night.

Most of the group was here too, except Steve since he said he already had plans, he said that maybe he'd swing by if he could, but he wasn't sure.

After Eddie played, him and the boys sat with you all again. The girls were teasing you for something and you were just rolling your eyes, hiding your smirk.

"What happened?" he asks.

"She just looks really good tonight, doesn't she?" Nancy smirks.

"Uh, well y- yeah" he got nervous.

"That is a popular opinion today." Eddie frowns at Robin's comment, really confused.

"The waiter just asked for my number" you finally explain.

"Oh, which one?" he asks.

"Ryan"

"Really? And what did you say?"

The girls don't quite realize how uncomfortable this is for the both of you, or if they do, their smirks and giggles are hiding it really well.

"I gave it to him" you shrug.

"You'd go out with Ryan?" he asks, surprised.

"I don't know, maybe?"

"huh" he says in a tone that irritates you.

"What?"

"Just... didn't think he was your type" he says.

"And what is my type?" you ask him, frowning.

"I don't know, I'm just... talking nonsense"

"Alright, I'm gonna grab another drink" you say as you get up.

"Wait, I'll go too" Eddie follows you.

"What's your deal?" you ask him once you're away from the group.

"I don't have a deal" he acts indifferent.

"Then what was that about?" you question.

"I'm just... surprised you'd go for a guy like him"

"What does that mean?"

"He seems like such a douche! From what I've talked to him... I think he's so boring for you" he explains.

"Well, that is for me to decide"

"Of course! Absolutely! It’s just that... as your friend," he says that as if it was ironic, "I know you, and I know you won't like him"

"Do you now?" you ask, gritting your teeth. Who does he think he is?

"Oh, I know you very well" he gets closer, with a big smug smirk on his face.

"Are you jealous? Is that what this is?" you question him and his smirk gets bigger as he chuckles.

"Maybe I am, yes" he whispers very close to you. "Maybe I don't like the idea of you moving on so fast"

Next thing you know he's pushing you against the wall of his room like he had been pushing you against the bar at The Hideout, all for Ryan to see. He kissed you hard and passionate and he still is, even when it's just the two of you on his room.

You can still make out the minty and smoky taste of his lips. His hands are all over you, they settle on pushing your skirt so high up that he can grab your thighs without a distraction while he wraps them around his waist.

His tongue is invading your mouth in a way that makes you whine every ten seconds. He pushes his crotch against yours so you can feel his erection very clearly.

"Eds, please" you beg.

"Okay, pretty girl. I know" he whispers and finally takes off your shirt. "No bra?" he chuckles.

"Doesn't go with this shirt" you explain.

"How convenient" he smirks as he lowers to start kissing your breasts. He did confirm it was one of his favorite parts of your body. He licks and sucks and bites on your nipples, having the time of his life.

He then moves you over to his bed, where you lay on your back. He takes off your skirt and boots. He still stays stood up in front of you, looking like a fucking god as he takes his shirt off, then his pants and shoes as well.

He turns you around in a swift move that makes you gasp, he chuckles at that. He grabs handfuls of your ass with his hands as he pulls you against him once more.

"I don't know if I want you on my fingers or my mouth" he speaks. "Nah, I definitely want you all over my face"

You chuckle at that yourself. He takes your panties off and throws them with his pants so he remembers to keep them. He lowers to start kissing and biting on your thighs and cheeks. Then, he wastes no more time and dives right in, no warnings. His face all against your pussy as he wraps his lips on your clit.

He alternates on focusing on your clit to then your hole, as he enters it with his tongue.

"Fuck, Eddie" you can't help but let out as you grip on his sheets.

He spits on your pussy to then lick it all up again as he fully makes out with your cunt. It all becomes so much, he really gives you no break until you're screaming and gripping on his sheets just to hold on to something as you cum all over his face. He makes sure to not waste one drop, still eating you out even after you came.

"S- stop" you move his face away and he sits up with a big grin to then clean off his mouth and chin with the back of his hand.

"You okay?" he checks on you after.

"Yeah" you confirm, breathing normally again.

"Wanna keep going?" he asks.

"Yeah" you smirk now.

"Stay like that" he smirks as he takes off his boxers throwing them somewhere in the room too. He passes the head of his cock all over your slit to then push it inside, slowly as he bottoms out with a groan.

"mmph baby" you moan.

He start his thrusts slowly, gripping your waist to keep you in place.

They become harder by the second. "Fuck, you're so tight, so wet." His head is thrown back as he enjoys the way you wrap around him.

Your moans make him go harder and faster, and grips you even harder with every clench he feels around his cock.

"Oh god, you're killing me" he whines as he lowers his upper body to hide his face on your neck.

"God, Eddie!" you scream, he bites on your neck, definitely leaving marks.

"You're close, aren't you?" he asks and you can feel his whisper in your ear, making this so much hotter.

"I am, baby" you whine. One of his hands lowers to play with your clit some more, you can feel his smirk pressed on your cheek. He bites you there too, he doesn't know what it is that held over him to want to bite you all over. But it is clearly working for you too.

"Mmh, your pussy is so good, sweetheart" he moans as he keeps moving hard on you.

"Ohhh" you scream as you can feel your orgasm just around the corner.

"Come for me, pretty girl, come all over my cock" he moans, hitting it harder as well as he's rubbing you.

"God- Eddie! Oh, yes!" you let yourself go, almost falling completely on the bed if it wasn't for him gripping you and keeping you in place.

He used you as he wanted to, as he needed to. Your face completely on his mattress as he moves faster, messier. His gaze locked on the way you were milking him, making him achieve his end a few seconds later.

"Holy sh- shit" he exhales as he falls on the bed right next to you.

"God, that was-" you say breathlessly.

"Yeah, so good. So fucking good"

"Incredible"

--

A week later, you were planning on going to see Eddie play once again. You were surprised to see Steve and Robin had the same idea. The three of you sat at a table with Eddie now too after he played with the band.

Steve doesn't know if he's being paranoid or seeing clearly. He feels like Eddie and you are being extra touchy and flirty. You sat next to each other and he had brought your chair even closer to his.

At one point you reached on the table to grab a napkin and Steve noticed Eddie's hand was on your waist.

You also laughed at every single joke Eddie made. Don't get him wrong, Eddie is a funny guy, but not that much. You shoved him as you laughed and he smirked down at you with his hand still on your waist.

But he might be reading too much into it. Maybe it was just his jealousy talking.

Or maybe that really is a hickey on your neck, which you tried to hide by wearing a turtle neck. But it peeks out either way, and Steve noticed it.

He got his answer thanks to Robin's clumsiness. He has never been more thankful of it.

She was telling a story of how a waiter here had dropped all of his tray right next to her, last week.

"Was it after you two left earlier? Or... wait, maybe it was when you were by the bar. Did you see it? The whole bar turned around to see what happened"

"No, it has to be when we weren't here anymore" Eddie confirms.

"Oh, you two left earlier?" Steve casually asks you.

"Uh... yeah" you say, trying to not give much away.

"Yeah, they bailed on us together. What even happened after that, huh?" Robin teases, not knowing just how much she was actually asking.

"Oh, shut up" you roll your eyes trying to act playful as if it really wasn't a big deal.

Eddie chuckles and raises his eyebrows.

Every piece fell into place for Steve. The hickeys, the clinginess. You two did it again. He felt so fucking jealous, like a warm and awful feeling in his stomach.

--

"There's Vicky, see you later guys!" Robin runs to her girlfriend's car and leaves once the night is over, leaving you three behind.

An uncomfortable scene unfolds. You all stand there looking at the car take off, neither of you knowing if you should talk about it, but if you didn't... what could you say instead?

"So..." Eddie turn around facing you two now.

"Are you two leaving together?" Steve asks, playing dumb.

"Uh- he's just dropping me home" you explain.

"Yeah" Eddie confirms.

"And... how long were you planning on keeping it a secret?" Steve finally asks.

"Steve..." you start.

"Dude, i- it's not like that. We're not..." Eddie somewhat explains.

"You haven't talked about it yet?" Steve chuckles and you shake your head awkwardly.

"How about coffee at my place?" you offer, really needing to talk to the both of them.

Steve was harder to convince, he said he didn't want to get in the middle, but it was obvious he was hurt. At the end, the three of you do end up sitting at your table.

"Last weekend we were together again," you come off clean to Steve, "just that one time"

"Just that night?" Steve frowns.

"Yeah, we haven't really... talked after that, we didn't know how to proceed now" Eddie explains.

"You don't need to explain anything to me-"

"You're jealous," Eddie interrupts him. "and I get it. If it had been you two, I think I'd be mad as hell right now. That may be why I rushed into it again" he confesses.

"You like her... a lot" Steve notices and Eddie nods. "and I like her too" Steve confesses.

"O- okay" you say, surprised at how this is unfolding. "You both want... something more with me?"

The two of them nod.

"I'm not choosing" you refuse.

"You already did" Steve looks down.

"No, I didn't... if it had been you who tried with me again, I would've said yes too" you confess.

Weirdly enough, Eddie didn't feel jealous or hurt at that, as he thought he would. The thought of you with Steve also exited him quite a lot. Steve felt like that as well. It was hard to explain for him, so he ignored how arousing it was for him to think about you two together again, and focused on the part that felt the jealousy... the thing is he didn't know exactly who he was jealous of in particular, because it wasn't just of Eddie. He was jealous he wasn't there too.

"I like both of you, equally... and I think you two may feel that way too" you're the only one that had the guts to admit it first.

"B- both of us? I'm not... particularly jealous of just Eddie. I'm jealous because I would've liked to be there too, with both of you again" Steve takes his time, but finally gets it off his chest.

"Do you like me too?" Eddie asks Steve. He didn't know why, but he was frightened to ask that out loud.

"... I do" Steve confesses, feeling just as scared.

"I like both of you too" Eddie is the last to agree on that.

"So... how does this work now?" you ask.

"I have no idea," Eddie says and Steve nods. "We don't need to figure it out right now, we can... just see where this takes us"

"But... would we be exclusive among us three from now on?" Steve asks.

"Well, I would say so" you go.

"I gotta, umm... cancel a date then" Steve admits.

"Really?" you laugh.

"Well, the last thing I knew it was that we were staying as friends... and I was planning on respecting that!" he defends himself.

"Yeah, sorry about that" Eddie says.

"Tell me about it" Steve asks all of the sudden. "How was it?"

"What?" you say surprised.

"Tell me, I wanna know" he gets comfortable, smirking.

Eddie smirks too looking at him that way. "You really wanna know all about it, big boy? Tell him, princess. How was it?"

You were already regretting choosing both of them.

"How was it?" You check but they both nod, smirking at you. "You guys are mean" you roll your eyes and they chuckle.

"Come on! Don't get shy now"

"It was... really good" you whisper.

"What did you do?" Steve asks with interest and you chuckle nervously.

"Well, we went to his place, to his room. We made out for quite a while, he had me against the wall," you start explaining, loving the attention of both of them and how they listen closely to your every word. "he took off my clothes, and then put me on his bed, on all fours..." It's like they're not even blinking, not wanting to miss a thing. "He ate me out like that... with that pretty face all over me"

"Shit" Steve mumbles.

"I came all over it too" I smirk and so does Eddie.

"You know how good she tastes" Eddie tells Steve and he nods.

"He took off his clothes then, making me stay in that position... and he fucked me" you tell him. "He left all these marks on me" you lower the neck of your shirt so they can see the purple and red marks.

"Fuck" Eddie shifts in his seat, uncomfortably, as he sees what he did to you. The tent in his pants is making them really tight and he can't sit still.

"And then he made me cum on his dick… and he came inside me" you finish the story.

Steve has the exact same problem as Eddie right now. Imagining everything you were telling him, the way you told the story, your voice, your eyes focusing on both of them at a time.

Now, you look at both your boys shifting in their seats, looking hot and bothered. You smirk.

"Is that what you wanted to know? Why are you so quiet now?" you tease them.

"You're getting a little too cocky now, princess" Eddie gets up and leans over on you. "Why don't we make it up for Stevie here? We were mean to him"

You nod, "let's go to my room" you offer and they both follow you.

As soon as you enter the room Steve starts kissing you. Eddie smirks and joins you quickly, he alternates on kissing Steve's and your neck, one kiss at a time.

You go to kiss the long-haired boy now, Steve growls and wastes no time in getting rid of some of your clothes. Your shirt; Eddie's jacket; his own shoes.

You stop kissing Eddie to look at both of them expecting their kiss. They take the hint and look at each other smirking. They grab each other's face at the same time and start making out.

Meanwhile, you decide to tease them. You take off the rest of your clothes by yourself. Bra, skirt, shoes, panties. And you decide to throw that last item at them, laying on the bed.

They both groan as they realize what you threw and when they see you all naked for them in the bed, with a big smirk that they then copy, getting on the bed with you.

Steve makes out with you as Eddie kisses you all over. Neck, breasts, belly, thighs. He might have been leaving some bite marks around as well.

When he gets comfy in between your legs, he dives in head first. Licking a long stripe of your cunt, swallowing, and then spiting on it. He makes out with your pussy the same way Steve makes out with your lips. The latter one also plays with one of your nipples meanwhile. Twisting it around his fingers softly and so deliciously.

With everything they're doing, you're already feeling hot and heavy.

The noises that all of you combined are doing help a lot too. The sounds coming out of Eddie's tongue against your wet cunt, and his occasional groans and chuckles. The heavy breathing of Steve. Your muffled moans that die on Steve's mouth. It's all helping your case.

Your hand flies to grab each mane of hair, as usual. One tugging on Steve's hair, the other on Eddie's. Pushing both of them impossibly closer to you. They both groan as they love the action.

Your legs fight to close around Eddie's head but his hands stop them, gripping them harder.

"You're gonna cum on his face?" Steve stops the kiss to whisper in your ear now, looking down at Eddie who seems very busy. "Cum all over that pretty face of his, look at him, so fucking pretty" he keeps rambling. "Come on, baby, make a mess of it, then maybe I'll lick it clean"

You moan at that, just imagining it.

"Oh God" you arch your back, both hands pushing Eddie even closer, you start moving your hips as you need against him. Surprisingly, he lets you do it with no problem. His moans dying on your cunt.

"Oh God, Yes!" you mumble more incoherent moans as you feel yourself come undone. A loud moan coming lastly to then fall completely on the bed, after the pleasure exploded inside of you.

Still feeling a tingle all over as you lie breathlessly on top of the sheets.

When you open your eyes again, you see your boys still having their fun. Steve does as he said and licks Eddie's cheeks and mouth glistening with your wetness. They make out as they take each other's clothes off clumsily.

Both are hard a rock, as they make out they can feel their erections crashing between them. Eddie grabs them together to then move his hand up and down, around them both.

"Shit"

"Ohh"

They both moan, Steve's head resting on Eddie's shoulder and Eddie looks down dumb at their dicks together.

You enjoy the show in front of you with a smirk, working you up again. Rubbing your legs together as you feel your pussy clench around nothing.

Eddie notices your movement and turns his head towards you to mimic your smirk. He whispers something on the other boy's ear and they stop. He crawls towards you till he's on top.

"How do you feel, pretty girl?" he asks with the smirk still on.

"Ready for more" you say as you wrap your arms and legs around him, bringing him closer. You start kissing, hungrily.

"So eager again? Someone's insatiable" Steve teases you.

"How are we doing this now?" you ask.

"I was thinking," Steve starts. "why don't you show me how good you two spent your night alone?"

"What?" Eddie asks.

"I'll watch you from here" he answers.

"Don't you want me to suck you off meanwhile?" you propose.

"Fuck, baby. You're so sweet," he strokes your cheek. "but I really want to watch you two. We have time to keep trying different things later, now that I know we'll be doing this again"

"And again, and again, and again" Eddie adds, grinning.

"I hope you're planning on doing this on different days too, because you'll kill me otherwise" you joke.

"Don't worry, pretty girl. We'll have a lot of time for that" Steve says, smiling.

"Alright. Ready, princess?" Eddie checks on you, bringing you closer.

"Very"

"Let's make a good show for our Stevie here, yeah?" he whispers and after you nod, you feel the head of his cock running up and down your cunt, making it already clench again.

He pushes it in slowly, enjoying the way you wrap him up. He stops midway, his hands grab your legs and places them on his shoulders. He looks right into your eyes as he fully enters you now.

"Ohhh" you let out, eyes rolling back.

Eddie fits so good inside you, filling you in all the right places.

"Shit, princess" he grabs your waist and starts moving, creating a rhythm. "That's it. You're so tight, shit"

"Fuck, Eddie" you arch your back, Eddie's pace feeling delicious.

"So good, so fucking good" he keeps it up.

You turn your head to look at your other boy sitting in the big bed, fisting his big cock slowly, biting his lip.

You keep eye contact with him as your face shows all the pleasure you're feeling right now. Steve eats it right up, going faster.

Eddie pace is faster now as well. Gripping your legs in place. Your hands go up, gripping the sheets as your whole body arches. The tip of his cock massaging right at your g-spot.

"Oh, Eddie" you scream now, biting your arm whose next to your head.

"You want something in your mouth, baby?" Eddie teases you. "Here" he puts his thumb in your mouth as he grips your chin to look up at him. "Good girl, wrapping me up so nice, so fucking nice baby. Never need another cunt, yours is the best one"

He alternates on looking at your face, sucking on his finger so dumb and pathetic, teary eyes fighting to not roll back all the time; at Steve, stroking his fat cock shamelessly, also ogling at him; or down at your pussy, swallowing his cock like the best, creating a creamy ring around it.

"Fuck, Eddie! More!" you beg.

"You want more? Such a dirty slut, so dumb and pathetic over my cock. You want it harder? Really rough?" he mocks you, only making you wetter.

He puts your legs around his waist now and really slams in and out of you, faster and harder.

"God! Eddie!" you scream, wrapping your legs around him really tight.

He lowers to kiss all over your chest and neck. Your hand now fly to his hair, pulling on it like you know he loves.

"You're close, aren't you, baby? Yeah, I can feel it" he teases as his hand lowers to abuse your clit some more.

"Fuck! Eddie! I'm cuming! I'm- ohh" you arch like a cat as you scream, cuming for him.

"That’s it, Atta girl" he moans, his pace now messier as he's reaching his high as well. "I'm right behind you, baby"

"Cum for me, Eds. Fill me up, please, I want it" you beg in his ear, knowing dirty talk is his weakness.

You feel long ropes shooting inside you, he falls on top of you, moaning your name.

"Shit, you're the fucking best baby" he lets out finally, all done. He pulls out, making sure nothing spills out and stays warm and full inside you. "Steve, come look at this" he orders and the other boy comes closer, watching as Eddie's cum fills you up, trying to fall out of you but Eddie puts it back in with his fingers.

"Fucking shit" Steve tugs harder at his cock.

"Fuck her tits" Eddie gives him the bright idea.

You sit up, Eddie behind you helping to push your tits together so Steve can fuck them. The head of his cock appearing and disappearing again in between your breasts.

"Oh God" he moans, right on the edge.

And after all of that, he finally cums. Shooting all over your chest, neck, and even on your face.

He falls back, catching his breath. Eddie licks some of the cum off of you to then kiss you.

Steve gets up and goes to the bathroom, coming back with a towel to clean you all up.

"Can you stand, baby?" he asks. You shake your head, legs feeling like gelatine.

"Let me take you to the bathroom" he carries you there, letting you pee and clean yourself. You also brush your teeth and open the door to see him waiting to carry you back to the bedroom.

Eddie tidied most of bed up, as much as he could. You bring both your boys to lay on each side of you, cuddling all together.

"Night, loves" you say.

"Good night", "Sleep well", they both wish.

And you all close your eyes thinking how the hell you got so lucky to have two of the best people in all of Hawkins to yourselves.