#that being said when someone specifically calls me out my options are either to pretend i agree with them which my autistic brain cannot do

[lifeofcynch]

bisexuality has always been inclusive of people who don’t care about gender. the creation of an additional label implies that they were not included in the original label, which is not true. and furthermore, promotes a misunderstanding of bisexuality, which is harmful to people trying to advocate for their identity. how is this not clear? you basically admitted that they are the same thing when you said you started identifying as bi literally just because of the flag colors. and additionally, the definition of the label is important, because it’s not just about personal identity, but rather how we can advocate for ourselves on a systemic level. if the labels don’t mean anything, then we can’t convince anyone that they’re valid. the rise of ‘mspec’ is the reason why bisexuality is seen as a “lesser” type of queerness. while there are indeed transphobic bisexuals, which i find stupid and ignorant of the rich history of bi and grans solidarity as the more commonly hated parts of LGBT, i doubt there are, as you say, transphobic pansexuals, at least not consciously or purposefully transphobic ones, because the rise of pansexuality was to imply a deficit in the bisexual label specifically concerning trans and nonbinary peoples place in bisexual attraction. again, gender does not matter in bisexual attraction. never has, never will. every bisexual has a different experience, that doesn’t make them not bisexual. there’s no problem at all with the type of attraction so-called pansexuals feel, but there is a problem in saying that type of experience is fundamentally different from bisexuality. that’s that, now leave me alone.

everytime there’s a relationship in a piece of media where one is bi and one is ‘pan’ i’ll simply just headcanon that the bi character educates the other character about the inherent biphobia of mspec labels. though it would be nice if the creator of the media educated themselves in the first place, that’s not easy to ask for, so.

(radfems don’t touch my post🤢)

[gaemms-chamois]

random unorganized darknights trio + paprika musings bc sometimes i'm hit with like a pang of Brief Worry that i'm completely misinterpreted blabla that usually doesn't last too long bc i then go back to my state of I'm Just Vibing but ig at some point i just gotta let it out publicly once and be done with it lol

this is messily written Please Understand this isn't meant to be a grand thought piece

fuuuck ok well this is like very specifically abt the w, ines & paprika part now

like don't get me wrong on this. i joke abt wines moms and stuff but i dont genuinely mean it in the way of wahh wow littol family for reals kinda deal?

less on wines 'adopting' paprika, moreso paprika imprinting on them like a duckling after she was saved by them. paprika adopted them lmao. i cannot possibly interpret either w or ines as Maternal in such a way.

it's moreso that i think it's nice that this little sarkaz merc became part of the story, a girl who all her life since she was infected at a young age, was presented with becoming a mercenary being basically the only option for her.

and then, as annoying as w can be, being shown that she does have different options.

i just think it's sweet that paprika, judging by her voicelines, clearly looks up to w and ines. which is just amplified by the fact that w and ines are notoriously not the most popular people on rhodes lol. and she calls w annoying but still keeps knitting stuff and wanting to gift food to her. like if she often seeks out w and ines to tell them how well she did on something, when they are on the ship, etc. that'd at least indicate that those two humor her.

ALSO IT'S UNOFFICIAL BUT SHOUTOUT TO THAT LITTLE CHUZENJI ART WITH PAPRIKA AND W, INES & TOTTER WEARING KNITTED HATS SO CUTE

OKAY WOO DARKNIGHTS MERCENARY TRIO AND STUFF

cool yeah obviously i fucking love them. i'm not very good at words though and i tend to keep my more elaborate thoughts to just discussions between friends who know how i tick djsfhdfs

just the other day i was smiling to myself during a walk bc holy shit all three are actually playable now and that's not just wishful thinking anymore. anyway chapter 13 also happened and more stuff with the trio happened and Cool Lots of things Happening and my brain is full

they're so found family to me, like in an utterly unconventional way. i mean c'mon with how they act sometimes like- ykno. but like have y'all seen the new furniture set and descriptions that came with hoederer's release it made me go insanse.

but i think especially in ines' case it just kinda highlights that best. considering ines' arts can figure people out (putting that in rather vague terms), it truly means something when someone with her capabilities and temperament has people she chooses to stick by and actually trust. even if she pretends she doesn't by verbally denying it.

like waugh Okay they have a lot to unpack and shit but with them being reunited (take that, W file that said W needs companionship but her friends aren't around anymore) and having a COMPARATIVELY more ""relaxed"" life than before (that one Hoederer file where he just has rather regular days on rhodes), it's just nice to imagine they can finally have something better and figure stuff out. as complicated as the three of them are.

with that said i think it's a given that i despise a nuclear family treatment of the three (aka mom ines, dad hoederer, daughter w).

for one with me being highly doubtful w was a kid/teen at the start of darknights (young? sure, but not that young), which just seems like such a...widespread belief that i really do not get? arknights always put a LOT of emphasis on when a character's story was about them being a kid, 0 of that with w. like something about her expression and big cloak just gave people some different impression, even though she literally keeps looking the same aside from a change of clothes. only instance of w being called a kid during that time i can think of is that one boiler worker in her files but that seems way more like any typical old guy calling anyone on the younger side a kid. hell, even hoederer was called young in darknights, like in a sarkaz's lifespan i can believe that.

and also...hoederer had somewhat of a mentor-like role for w, but if anyone tries to tell me ines ever acted maternal towards w i will chew through your walls. read through darknights memoir and actually pay attention to ines, both w AND ines were pettyass women and they made that so very clear. cannot fathom how anyone can see ines as having been motherly towards w

seriously just feels like a case of Well there is man and there is woman....and this other character so clearly these are mom, dad and kid.

that's not even me being biased towards w/ines, just how i objectively see it. hell, i even ENJOY ines/hoederer, but my enjoyment of it is limited bc for some reason ppl like to make it weird by shoving w in as some daughter. i promise it's completely possible to like ines/hoederer without trying to fit in w as a kid figure

anyways yeah like cool i like these characters I Guess. Look at them

[cinnamonest]

Daily Life - Scaramouche

Ahhh ye I loved writing those. For anyone who hasn’t seen them I’m linking the posts from when I did this theme with Kaeya and Diluc as well as the one with Zhongli, Xiao, and Childe

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

He's... not much of a morning person. He's actually pretty quiet in the mornings, he's still groggy and having to wake up and all that. So he doesn't say much, just kinda nudges you. Do NOT make him do it twice, though, no doing the thing where you groan and roll over or beg for more time. He'll just yank the covers off of you. 

That's if *he* wakes up first, though, which is... unlikely. It's more likely you will find yourself in the reverse situation -- telling this grown ass man that yes you have to get up. Yes you have to go to work. You're going to be late. Come on. Get up. I'll make you food if you do. Please. It... takes a while. He’s actually late quite a bit due to his tendency to wait until the last possible minute and drag his feet. Not that anyone ever has to audacity to actually confront him about it. It can almost be kinda... cute? In a weird way. Just don’t actually say that out loud.

But still, it's rather surprisingly quiet. Yeah, sure, he could get food from his work, there's certainly a sort of eating area where they provide food for the masses of the underlings, but it's gross so, eating here it is. He used to do that before. Not that he would actually, god forbid, sit around and mingle with anyone, but he used to take it and go munch on whatever was provided, by himself. Just because it was easier and the man has probably never cooked anything in his life, doesn't know how to, but you do right? Well, if you don't, figure it out. Now that he has you he shouldn't have to go out of his way to get fed, you can do that, make yourself useful. 

He has the same thing going on as mentioned in the daily life post for Xiao where he just kinda... creepily watches you go about your morning. Except not from the other side of the room, no, he just follows you around. The days actually have an awkward start because you don't want to be the first one to speak and risk making him grumpy, so you just kinda wait for him to talk. It's never a "good morning," he just jumps straight into telling you what the day is going to look like plan-wise, or complaining about this or that. But he will stand kinda right beside you the entire time, if you're making food he just stands there and leans against the counter and talks to you. If you're getting ready and have to go get this or that he'll follow you into each room and keep talking. Boy is clingy.

You could look at it as a blessing or a curse that the man takes you everywhere he goes. You don't get locked up and chained to a bed with nothing to do, but you also... have to deal with him pretty much every waking moment. If you've proven yourself annoying when not given things to do, you get things to do, simple measures to keep your attention consumed and not bothering him. Books and pencils and paper and whatever. But if he has a task to be done, it's your job, will call out the occasional go put this over there or go get that and bring it here. Why should he stand up and do it himself when you can? And it's in your best interest to do it immediately and quickly. 

If it's a mission sort of day, going from place to place, he just drags you along wherever he goes. Expects you to just stand there quietly and not interrupt while he's talking to important people. If there's like, actual physical combat... well, if combat is expected, it's one of a few times you'll get left under the care of someone else (value and cherish these precious moments), and if it's unexpected hostility from someone, well, you know the drill -- go run away a hundred yards or so and stay behind something until it's over. And don't you dare think of using the opportunity to do something stupid or run. You tried a few times in the past... it didn't go over well.

The two things you get a lot of throughout the day is complaining and fucking. The first is usually after interactions -- some subordinate that has to come up to him to talk to him, some connection he's forced to converse with for the sake of a mission -- either way, he gets grumbly as soon as they're out of earshot. Honestly it's not hard to deal with, just kinda agree with everything he says, give a nod and smile and say he's right. You don't even really have to listen to what he's saying. As for the latter, fucking follows a predictable pattern, you can pretty much accurately estimate that you're about to get bent or pushed to your knees at specific times -- namely, whenever he's particularly stressed or nervous about something, when someone beneath him fucks something up or upsets him in any way, or when you specifically do something to upset him, be it intentional or unintentional. Lots of quick rough fucks throughout any given day, really.

Now, there are a very very very few days where you genuinely can't tag along, this is pretty much for your own safety and to prevent him from being distracted by concern for said safety. This is only when there is a planned conflict with formidable enemies. It's one of very few times you'll ever be left alone. Not under the care of any one person, but likely two or three personally appointed guards that he knows well enough to trust. During this time, they are given the instruction to keep an eye on you while you're given your normal idle task options like reading. It's not very eventful, and there's not really any opportunities for escape, it's just boring.

Unlike a lot of the other yans, you don't get a "honey I'm home now listen to me rant about my day" sort of deal, because you've been with him all day and heard him complain throughout. That doesn't mean the complaints don't continue, but he gets quieter once settled in for the evening. It's also the softest time you'll get -- at that point he's tired from whatever events occur throughout the day and has less energy to be irritated.

He never really verbally insisted on it, but the habit of bathing together just kinda naturally formed from the first few days when he had to drag you back and forth to follow a normal living routine. It's very very quiet. You never asked him to, but he just automatically does everything for you, scrubs at your body and hair before you get the chance. It's... not very gentle, but he's not intentionally trying to be rough or anything. Nor is it intended as a gesture of kindness or anything, you're pretty sure he just kinda started doing it since you were stubborn and refused to move a muscle when you first came here, and now does so on autopilot, without really thinking about it. You've decided to not bring it up. It's nice enough.

He's actually kinda particular about his sleep. He can stay up late if needed, but prefers to go to bed more or less soon after, and no, you can't stay up on your own, if he's going to sleep so are you whether you like it or not. He doesn't fall asleep immediately, just kinda lays a while and stares off in thought. As long as he knows you're awake, he's not gonna make any movements to touch you or anything. If you pretend to be asleep though... you might get somewhat cuddled. And if you decide to move to lay on him on your own or nuzzle up to him, he's not going to fight it. Will probably be surprised and embarrassed, but will lay there and allow it, maybe gently pat your head.

[gb-patch]

Ask Answers: August 8th

Well, doing big posts all together worked for a while but lately I’ve been putting it off because it takes a long time to get them done. I think I’m gonna try switching back to answering asks whenever I can fit it in and posting them one at a time instead of waiting until I’ve filled out one of these major collections.

But for now, here’s more ask answers! Thank you for the questions and for all the kind words along with them ^^.

Hello!! I'm here to ask if its possible to get  the game and its dlcs on steam and play it on android?

I’m afraid not. Steam doesn’t have Android builds on their own site and Steam is not cool with keys for other sites being given out for Steam purchases, so you don’t get the Itch version from buying on Steam.

Hello! Sorry to bother you but, I had a question, if we buy the Game on itchio do we get steam keys or would we need to purchase it twice? 

You would have to buy it twice if you want it in both places, I’m sorry. To repeat myself a little, Steam doesn’t like the key trading thing. Itch may support giving keys for another site, but the reverse isn’t doable with Steam and Steam doesn’t even really want you to get a Steam key for buying somewhere else either. So we just don’t mess around with that.

hey, sorry if this is frequently asked, but is step 4 free dlc or paid for? some of your sources are contradicting each other. 

It’s free! There’s a paid wedding DLC, but Step 4 itself is entirely unpaid.

Hello! I just had a quick question, for the Baxter and Derek DLC's will we be able to confess our feelings to them or let them confess to MC? or will it only be one way? (they confess to MC)

Both type of options will be available!

Hey there! I wanted to ask whether or not the Derek DLC is still on track to be released in August since on the steam discussion board it says it will be released mid 2021. I totally understand if it isn't, I'm just really looking forward to it! If you answer then ty! And keep up the amazing work :D 

It’s not, aha. Unfortunately, 2021 wasn’t easier than 2020 as we hoped so things are still slower than planned. It’ll come out late 2021 or early 2022.

Hi! Firstly I just want to say that I LOVE Our Life. I have played a bit of similar games but this one instantly wins for the best one! Everything about it is amazing! I just wanted to ask if Derek would ever lose feelings for MC, like if they make the deal and then MC gets with Cove would he move on? and even if you don't, after "losing contact" would his feeling fade or would he still like MC? 

If you don’t really keep in touch with him and clearly move on with your life, Derek will too and he’ll be over it. But if you are still close as best as you can be, he’ll still think the MC is special. Though, he’ll always support your relationship with someone else if that’s what’ll make you happy.

Hello! Sorry if you've answered this before but: 'How's Lee related to us? Though which momma? And does she share our player-chosen last names? Also, do you know if Noelani took Pam's last name or did it happen the other way round? 

She’s related to Pamela and Pamela’s last name is the one they use, so the MC has the same last name as Lee.

Will we be able to choose which (they or he) we tend to call Qiu by more often, or will it randomly change depending on the moment? 

Qiu knows which pronoun they’re comfortable with at a time and you’ll call them what they’re happy with. And it doesn’t change between lines, it takes multiple scenes or even full Steps for it to switch. So for extended periods Qiu will be totally a guy or fully agender.

Will Step 4 of OL2 have moments?

It’ll be an epilogue like it is in OL1, so it won’t have a bunch of different Moments.

Hello! Just a quick question, is Sunset bird from OL1 based on a real location? If so what's it called? I wanna visit it +_+

ps i love your games so much <3

It isn’t based on one specific town you can go to, but there are a lot of little coastal towns in Cali that have a similar vibe!

Heyaaa ( I hope you're all well ), umm… it might seem kinda stupid to ask but did Patreon members can have a key for the dlc's ( all the steps-released dlc ) even if they became a member this month or later ? (me? saying this cuz it's my case? maybe ;-;), and once again thanks for absolutely all the amazing works on all the games ! u-u 

You wouldn’t get the DLCs for backing there. The Patreon is for extra bonus content/early access, rather than being a storefront to purchase the normal DLCs. Rarely we give them out as a side gift, but it hardly happens and if what you want is the DLCs it’s best to ignore the Patreon and  buy keys for those directly from Itch or Steam. I’m sorry for the confusion.

Hey y'all, love what youre doing w/Terry. Trans rep outside of player customization is so rare and important to see more of so thank you so much. I do have a question and its that does he have a canon sexuality? I know Miranda was said to be straight ace but I dont believe anything was stated for Terry probably because he wasnt revealed to be a guy which changes things. Im also curious if well get answers on how long hes liked Miranda since he may have liked her in step 3 before she liked him 

Terry likes women and Randy likes men! And he did like Miranda back in Step 3.

Will the Wedding Dlc release at the same time as Step 4? 

They’ll come out separately with Step 4 releasing first.

I really love Our Life so much! I've spent over 20hours playing it even though I only got it a week ago! I was wondering if I could make a fangame for Our Life with a different love interest but same plot. Next-door neighbors romance, multiple steps, etc? I'll probably make it on Google Slides though- 

Sure! I hope you have fun with it and I’m glad you love the game.

How does Cove feel about poly relationships? 

He’s got nothing against them for the people they work for, but he’s 100% monogamous and would only be comfortable with a partner who was willing to be monogamous with him.

Idk if this has been answered before but will Step 4 include the option to advance your feelings towards Cove? 

Yep, you’ll be able to determine your feelings and what your relationship is.

In step 4 will there be a chosen to say we live with Cove even as just friends? 

Yeah, you can choose to live with Cove and that can be done when you’re friends.

I just played the game with the MC and Cove being best friends and omg it’s still so damn cute like the wholesomeness of it all is too much for my heart I swear ^.^  Now with that all said I was wondering can we still marry Cove? if we only love him as a friend like let’s say we’ve made deal with him similar to the one we can make with Derek because let’s real no one could compete with what the MC and Cove have even if they aren’t in love. 

It’s great to hear you enjoyed the friendship story! You can live with Cove, but you can’t marry him platonically. Cove has familial affection for the MC if they’re best-est friends. He wouldn’t think to marry someone he loves like family and even grew up with as though they truly were siblings.

Are you still going to be making a DLC for XOBD? :] 

Yes! We’re slowing adding voiced lines and fixing errors.

It makes me laugh that Shiloh's last name is Fields because that's what I put as my last name! So in Our Life when he talked about "Ms. Fields" picking him up I was extremely confused, lol. That dude mimics personalities so much that he stole my surname!

Oh, wow, that’s a very funny coincidence, haha.

hi !! i cant seem to be able to get the scene where mc is able to propose to cove despite being at the 'love' stage and telling him i'd want to get married, are there any other details that im missing out on? the options just dont appear at the end... 

Maybe you missed telling Cove you were in love with him even if you mentioned wanting to get married or you might’ve accidentally said earlier in the game that you don’t want to progress your relationship further with Cove. We haven’t removed them, so you can get the scene again. It’s just kind of easy to miss since there’s multiple requirements. You can read a little guide in the FAQ.

wait what di you need to do to be able to propose to cove? I've been trying but haven't had much luck 

You can check out the FAQ linked above!

does cove only develop a crush on the mc if the mc is also at crush/in love with him? 

Technically, yes. We treat the non-romantic relationship options as truly non-romantic since we don’t want to bait and switch people. But there’s nothing wrong with headcanoning that Cove does have feelings developing for the MC even before the MC has.

Is there a way to make/allow Lee and Baxter to date?

No, they just don’t have enough time together.

We also got a group of asks related to Tamarack in OL2, but I’m afraid the way they talked about people with larger bodies made me not want to post their words, even if the person didn’t say they’re trying to be hurtful. I will separate out the core question and answer it though, so people can know that info.

Does Tamarack lose weight in later Steps?

No, she doesn’t. As for the other questions included, to be honest, I don’t have to explain/defend having romance options of different sizes. I’m sorry if you’re dealing with unhappiness that’s connected to body image, if that’s where the negative emotions are coming from, but even so I can’t meet you on that level and pretend it’s a problem that needs an answer. A girl who simply isn’t thin being a main love interest is just not an unreasonable concept. Also, Tamarack isn’t a lesbian. Yes, she can date a female MC, but that doesn’t undo her actual sexuality, so I’m not sure where that one part at the end was coming from.

I wonder... can we "fight" with Qiu over leader status? 👀

Not really, haha. No matter how cool your MC is, they’re never gonna replace Qiu for the other kids around. So you can either partner up with him, follow him too, or not be a part of all that group politics stuff.

So when I play the game, sometimes I mentally call Cove “Covie/Covey” and that made me wonder, how does Cove feel about being nicknamed? Not like Romeo/Space Cadet/etc. but like pet names relating to his actual name

It’d depend on his age, personality, and your relationship with him! When he’s younger he’d probably be embarrassed, when he was grown he’d probably be more casual or happy about it.

will you be able to date baxter in step 3 while at crush with cove (but not dating him ofc) sorry if this has been asked already. i really love baxters step 4 design btw!! 

Yeah, you can be crushing on Cove and date Baxter if you weren’t already dating Cove. You just can’t be truly in love with Cove and then switch to Baxter.

I just got my friend into our life, and they adore shiloh and derek sooo will there be more of them in the second game? 

I’m afraid not. But you can see plenty more of Shiloh in XOXO Droplets/XOXO Blood Droplets, haha.

I see you haven't gotten any xoxo droplets asks recently but I'm still obsessed with these boys!! I was just wondering if Nate would curse under any circumstance? 

Yeah, Nate does use certain swear words (damn, hell, bastard) on very rare occasions.

Hi there! I have a question about the wedding dlc. Will we be able to plan a honeymoon during the planning stages of it or would it be something that Cove and the mc would rather plan later on? Thank you! Absolutly love the game by the way, definitely one of my favorite games! 

The focus will be on the wedding day itself. The topic of the honeymoon might come up a bit, but there won’t be any choosing of the exact location and such.

Hi! I have two questions and it's completely understandable if you only answer one/neither and I'm sorry if you've already answered either before! First, is there a set year in which OL:B&A takes place (ex: Step 1 being set in 2010 & Step 2 being set in 2016, etc.) or is it simply up to interpretation? Second, have you guys thought about doing a coming-of-age game where the MC has a tough home life or upbringing? (like one of their parents is an addict, a parent being transphobic whilst the player has the option to be trans, or having friends that are influencing them to do drugs, etc.) That's all! Thanks for making beautiful games. <3 

There is a set timeline!

Step 1: 2006 Step 2: 2011 Step 3: 2016 Step 4: 2021 

And we don’t currently plan on making a game like that. The Our Life series exists to be a safer environment for people to play around in and if we did do a brand new series that was harsher edged it’d be something more fantastical and/or plot-driven instead of a different type of modern day slice-of-life growing up story. I’m sorry.

i don’t know if you’ve already answered this, but do you have a guess on when phase 4 will come out? as well as ol2? i’m so excited for both of them, the inclusivity in this game is amazing, you guys should be really proud of it! 

Step 4 will be coming out very soon! OL2 is gonna take until 2023 to be anywhere near completion. But we might episodically release the Steps one at a time as they get done instead of waiting for three to be finished before launch like we did with the first game.

Hello, I was curious if there was an official or unofficial discord server for the game? 

We do have a discord! You can join by clicking this link HERE.

how long do you plan to keep ol's patreon running? 

Hopefully for at least a few more years.

Are you considering ever making merch? 

Yeah, but I don’t know when it’ll happen or what exactly we’ll make, aha. It’s something we want do, just nothing is set.

hi! i just found out about your game a couple of days ago on tiktok (so sorry if you’ve already answered this question) and i was wondering if y’all are ever planning to release it on iOS? 

I have no idea. It’s hard for a small group to get Apple approval and I honestly can’t say if it’ll ever happen or not. Maybe someday, though!

Hi, I love the art style of Our life and I would like to know if the artist has a Twitter? Also, could it be possible to fund more CGs for the game from him/her? So many times, I wish there was one like when the cutscene of the sunshower. 

That’s nice of you to offer. He doesn’t have a Twitter, at least not one that’s public enough to be shared with me. And I’m afraid not. The issue is that the CGs take huge amounts of time rather than there not being a budget for it. He’s gotta make CGs for Step 4, the DLCs, and new character sprites, too. There isn’t space in the schedule for even more. Sorry for that.

Hi, how are you?!

Are you planning on accepting new writers or is it always the same people who write your stories??

Thanks!!

Our Life: Beginnings & Always won’t be getting new writers, but we will be hiring a new team of writers for Our Life: Now & Forever eventually!

perhaps this counts as nsfw and I'm sure it has been answered before but what does Cove prefer, chests/boobs or butts? or perhaps both :3c thank you for this wonderful game (and the patreon bonus moment, it was worth all the waiting and more ♥) 

He’s a “chests of all shapes and sizes” kind of guy, haha.

i was wondering- did any of the writers actually grow up by the beach? as someone who's lived in a beach town all their life it really did feel nostalgic to play through our life 1 

I was born and raised in Cali! Though, not right by the beach. We still had to make trips out, but the setting is based on my own childhood memories of small beach towns we went through.

In Derek’s upcoming DLC, will we be able to reference the pact we made as teens? (love olba and xod/xobd so much btw you’re literally amazing) 

Yep, you will be able to talk about that!

Oh, sorry about the Cole being secretly L ask, then!

If you wanted context: Death Note is about this one guy who finds a notebook that kills anyone who you write the name of in there. The guy eventually develops a God Complex and starts mass killing criminals and stuff. L is the one trying to find out who is killing all these people.

Me and my sister first joked about it because I couldn't remember how to translate a word about the way Cove was sitting, so I just did the pose, and it looked a lot like how L himself sits! Then we just snowballed from there, with more and more nonsense connections.

That’s okay! Thanks for explaining. I’m sorry I didn’t know what you meant.

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

Leaf here again, same TWs (financial abuse mostly) and ableism tw

Hello I'm back already because today was a lot.. Right now I feel like venting mostly, it's just that a lot has happened

So basically I had a rough week already and since I'm autistic I need to have more down time than others, and I Didn't have it. Many unexpected things piling up and I got so little sleep.

My mom ended up giving me a check that covered 2 classes and I'm not surprized because they intentionally play on my panic (I had anticipated that the way they told me was on purpose to make me panic). So it's not great but I got that covered at least.

I also had some money that my grandma gave me but it didn't cover much either because these classes are extremely expensive (I'm still really grateful however). When I paid for the classes I told them to remove my father's email address, they won't send him the bills or the planned classes anymore. To be honest I don't know if this was a good choice because everything is so hard to anticipate, but they send me the documents so it should be fine.

Then I went to my driving lesson and it was awful? I didn't have enough time to prepare because like I said the week was rough so I was in pain, I coudln't mask so I drove poorly and my teacher kept criticizing me every 2 seconds. To summarize I've experienced this type of behavior since forever because I'm disabled and people refuse to believe that I'm trying.

So I ended up crying when we talked about my progress during that specific class at the end, and it was really uncomfortable. It's retraumatizing and I really hate it because I could tell I was getting better, even today because messing up is part of the process.

Then I came back and learned my other grandma was going to come over, so it was a good opportunity to ask her for hel. Even though it worked out in the end, it was such a pain to just talk to her alone. I had to ask my mom twice and be super firm just so we would be alone together.

My grandma said that they had planned to give me a lot of money after I got my driver's licence, but since I need it now and I'm responsible they already gave me everything. It's a relief although I'm not sure if it will cover everything, but I will try to leave that on the side for now because it's given me so much anxiety lately.

I suppose I'm back to the "normal" window, so things are "okay". Basically if I work my ass off and do the most people pleasing i can (since my parents disgust me and i dont like to lie), then things stay at a doable level. I suspect that my parents are doing it on purpose too, because if they were to go all out then they would lose their good image. I use that to my advantage by pretending I still believe in it and care about them - though they seem to suspect I don't believe any of it, but if they can pretend we're a great family, then I can too.

To be honest it's a bit hard to talk about this because I feel like people will call me a liar for needing help when I genuinely never know which options I have with my parents. They can always choose to have a random power trip but sometimes they do give me crumbs. That makes me afraid of being misunderstood because I do come from a "comfortable" background, but my quality of life is less than ideal. Even if they weren't abusive, there's more than meets the eye - my dad gets paid well, but he's a factory worker who didn't pass high school. If he were to get fired (which will happen eventually), he wouldn't have the same salary anymore.

Hi Leaf,

I'm so sorry about what's been going on. It sounds like you've been going through a lot recently, not only with paying for classes but also issues with your driving lesson. It makes sense how being paid or not can be a significant source of anxiety.

I wish your driving instructor could be more understanding of what you've been going through, and that they could be more mindful of how critiquing someone constantly can affect someone, as well as more constructive and compassionate ways to offer suggestions or corrections. I can understand how this experiencing was retraumatizing for you.

I can see how this might be hard to talk about. Please remember that you know yourself best and it's not other people's place to tell you what your needs are. Whatever needs you do have are valid and deserve to be respected and met. Obviously internalizing this is easier said than done especially with experiences like yours where you're made to feel afraid of being misunderstood and such.

I hope that you can find healing and begin to process everything you've been going through in a healthy way, hopefully with the guidance and mediation of a mental health professional such as a therapist, if that is an option for you.

If anyone else has any comments or suggestions feel free to add on. Otherwise I hope I could help and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

[squishneedsahero]

A Swing and A Miss

Awesomest of Them All 2.0

Part 9 of 13

Word Count: 2001

Batman x Batmom!Reader

You know what the bat family needs? Someone to pull them together and give them all the love they deserve. Who better to do that than you? An author rising to stardom in Gotham who catches the eye of a billionaire with your standoffish attitude at a huge social gathering. You are yourself and never pretend to be more or less than that. Plus you're the most stubborn person in the world, refusing to let good things go without reason.

This is a rewrite of my story Awesomest of Them All, I wanted to see how much I've improved over 3 years.

You and Bruce had been sitting on the couch together when his phone went off, it was a phone call. Who it was from you didn't know, all you knew was that he got up and went to the other room to take it. He doesn't usually do that, but on the rare occasion he does leave the room to take a call you don't mind as it's usually for a good reason.

Bruce walks back into the room, pinching the bridge of his nose, looking done. "I need to go take care of something. I'll be back later."

"What is it?" You try to ask, and aren't surprised when Bruce doesn't answer. "Okay, I'll see you when you get back," you say going up and kissing him gently on the lips. He kisses you back then heads down to the cave.

You don't sit back down, instead going to find something to do, to occupy your mind while Bruce is gone. Something had him upset but until he was ready to talk about it you weren't going to get it out of him, so that meant you got to either worry or keep busy.

Keeping busy was obviously the better option, so, you went and found the kids to sit in the same room as them. There's your two sons, Dick and Tim, your one adopted daughter Cass, plus Stephanie and Barbara who were like daughters to you.

"Hey mom," Dick says, looking up from where he was on his phone next to Babs, "where's dad?"

You shrug slightly, "not sure, he said he needed to take care of something and took off towards the cave."

"Oh, you want me to go check on him?"

"Not yet," you smile at your oldest who was always trying to take care of you, "he just left. I'm pretty sure he just needs to figure it out on his own first then he'll let me know what's going on."

"Alright," Dick concludes the conversation, but you can feel the eyes of the other kids on you.

Cass catches your attention and signs, "you can come sit with us," from her spot on the couch. She then pats the empty seat next to her.

You thank her in ASL with a hand to your chin as you go take a seat next to her. Cassandra was quiet, having an easier time communicating through asl than out loud. It always made you smile on the rare occasion you got her hear her soft little voice, and to know she was comfortable enough to talk to you, but you had learned sign language specifically for her, wanting to make sure she was comfortable all the time.

You gently put an arm around her and kiss the side of her head, then you go to remove your arm, knowing she doesn't always like to be touched. But she stops you from letting go of the hug and leans against you, maybe she just knew that you needed it at the moment to help get your mind off Bruce but either way, she didn't let go so you didn't either.

Stephanie scoots closer to you, taking the other seat next to you and offers you a controller. "We're playing Mario Kart, you want to play a few rounds Mrs.Wayne?"

You laugh gently, "I'm afraid I'm a bit out of practice, all of you would easily kick my ass."

"Come on, pleeeaaaasssee mom," Tim joins in in begging you with his ex, turned best friend.

You laugh and take the controller, "fine I guess I'll try a few rounds."

"Yes!" Dick joins in, cheering you on as Babs gets things set up.

Tim had hotwired the two Wii's so all of you could play together without having to figure out how to do it online. So, the six of you were easily able to start a game and begin racing the many different tracks just having fun together as the kids knowingly distracted you from your worries.

It's a more than a few hours later when Bruce returns home. The kids had all gone down to the cave to get ready for patrol, and you had gone with them. They were about to head out when the roar of an engine cause everyone's attention and Bruce parked the bat mobile and got out, looking stressed and tired.

Dick goes over to him and tells him they're going to head out, and can cover things tonight.

Brice nods and doesn't argue, simply turning to look at you as the kids leave. He doesn't approach you until they've all left and you don't give him a choice but to hug you as you hug him.

"Do you want to change?" You ask, knowing he's obviously upset about something, but willing to be patient while he figures out what it is he needs to tell you.

"Sure, I'll change and we can go sit in our room," he says and kisses the top of your head before turning to get out of the batsuit.

It doesn't take him long to change, and the two of you head upstairs, hand in hand and take a seat on the couch in your bedroom. He just holds you for a while, obviously thinking through what he needs to tell you, and this only causes you more worry.

"Bruce, my love, you know you can tell me anything," you try and reassure him with a kiss on the cheek.

This reassurance works, as he finally speaks up, gently saying, "I have a son, he's 9."

This surprises you, and you don't exactly have a good response, you lean back away from him to look at his face as you quietly ask, "you have a biological son?"

"Yes, I didn't know until today, but he's 9... we've been together 11 years, my love-" this is when he begins to break his normally stoic demeanor.

This is also when you catch on to what he is saying. You had been with him at the time this child was conceived. That hurt. You turned to look away from him, not moving away but taking a moment to think.

There's a few minutes of silence before you speak, "how did it happen?"

You give him a chance to explain and he jumps on it, beginning to tell you what he knows. Starting with the fact that Thalia Al'Ghul was the mother, how she had apparently drugged him in order to have a child with him. His son had been raised by the League of Assassins, taught that he was the one to inherit the mantle of Batman.

It was... a lot. And it hurt to hear, especially due to the fact that you and Bruce had been unable to have a child of your own for many reasons. But, you turn to your husband, the man you were still head over heels for and say as gently as you can, "I'm not sure what I'm feeling right now but it isn't anger."

He looks at you and brushes your hair out of your face, "are you sure you're alright?" He's clearly still worried about his standing with you.

You gently lean to kiss him on the lips, "I'm not sure I'd call it alright, but we will be fine. My husband isn't a cheater, and that would be my biggest worry."

You can see more of the stress and worry leave his face as you speak and he pulls you into a tight hug. "I am so sorry my love. Thank you for giving me a chance to explain-"

You lean back from him once again, taking your hands to cup his cheeks. "Bruce, you didn't know. She drugged you and I trust you enough to know that's the truth. I'm going to need some time to get used to the idea, and figure out exactly how it is I am feeling. But promise me that we will be open and communicate about all of this as we get more information, deal?"

Bruce sighs in relief, "Deal," with that he wraps his arms around your waist and kisses you deeply.

It's at this point he informs you that Thalia had sent Damian, their son, to live with Bruce for a time. Damian would be coming the next morning and Bruce hadn't been able to have any say in it, barely able to convince them to wait long enough for him to talk to you first. It was yet another thing you could only describe as a lot but this was life, you had to roll with the punches or you'd never be able to move forward.

Two days later you still had yet to meet Damian. You were ninety-five percent sure it was because the boy was avoiding you. You sat eating breakfast and contemplating this when you hear someone behind you say, "Tt, you must be my father's harlot."

You raise your eyebrow and turn around to face the boy, "Harlot?"

"That is what my mother calls you," Damian says looking at you disgustedly.

You are so exhausted by this entire situation that the sass just slips out of you and you laugh. "I mean, that's one way to go about saying she's jealous of me because I have a ring and she doesn't."

Damian is clearly surprised by the fact that you just laughed off him calling you a harlot. He, "tt,"s again and just walks right back out of the kitchen, unwilling to admit you had surprised him.

You watch him leave, and he passes Bruce as he does. Once Damian is gone you shake your head and go back to your breakfast.

"I see you've met Damian," Bruce comments.

You offer him a slight smirk and a shake of your head, "yep, finally showed himself just to call me a harlot."

"A har-" Bruce starts, clearly outraged by the fact that anyone would dare call his beloved wife a harlot.

"Yeah," you laugh again, "he left just as fast because I laughed at the thought."

Bruce sighs, relaxing with how you had taken it, he takes a seat next to you and wraps you in a hug. "I'm glad that you didn't let him get to you."

"Yeah, though as far as introductions go, I think he's going to take some getting used too."

"Yeah, he's quite the character after being raised by the LoA."

You smile and lean against Bruce as you finish your food, "yeah, but eventually he'll have to figure out I'm just as stubborn as him for having put up with your shit for this long," you tease and he laughs.

It's a few hours later the next time you see Damian and he tries to insult you in yet another way, "you're weak, and would never be able to take anyone down. You aren't worthy of father."

This one is creative, you'll admit that but you shake your head. "I never claimed to be a fighter, if you'd stuck around earlier I could have told you that. Though, the first time I met your 'father," you say mocking his tone, "I kicked a green haired clown in the head so that has to count for something."

Damian once again just leaves, you weren't supposed to take these things so well, you were supposed to run off crying, not agree with him.

This goes on for a while, him trying to insult you and you just not having it. It goes on until he stops, knowing he'd have to find some other way to get under your skin. Meanwhile you try to get to the bottom of his behavior. Why does he feel like he needs to put you down in comparison to his mother and how can you show him he can trust you enough to not have to do that to keep a place in this family? It might take a while but you'd sure as hell figure it out.

[randomtwistedlife]

Two Ghosts

Pairing: Reiner Braun x Female Reader

Summary: You are on a recon mission in Marley and run into Reiner. Little angsty. 

Note: I just finished the anime and the manga and there are a lot of feelings and hence, this one shot was born. One huge spoiler regarding Reiner. If you know what I’m talking about, you can read this. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, spoiler ahead. POV shifts between reader and Reiner. 

Based on Two Ghosts by Harry Styles

Feedback is appreciated.

We're not who we used to be

We're just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me

Trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat

You pulled the hood of your cape onto your head as you weaved across the sea of people. Glancing at the setting sun, you let out a curse. You were late. His letter, which was tightly clutched in your hands, had instructed you to meet him at the specified address tonight as soon as the sun set. Even though he hadn’t written a lot about himself, most likely afraid that the letter would fall into the wrong hands, you knew it was him from his handwriting and the way he wrote the words.

Jean was here. In Marley.

You had arrived in Marley a little over a month ago on a recon mission. The mission was simple — infiltrate Marley, specifically Liberio, because that’s where the Warrior program was, scout the high ranked officials, and understand the socio-political situation. It was the solitude and the feeling of otherness that was hard to deal with. Everyone on this side of the sea hated you. Well, not you specifically, but your kind. You just wanted to talk freely with someone. Though Eren was here as well, he wasn’t an option. He had been here almost as long as you, but visiting him at the hospital would raise too many eyebrows considering Eren’s secret identity was not supposed to have any family. And so you stayed away. But now Jean was here.

Your face hurt from smiling so much. It was hard to remember the last time you had been this happy. You would tell him all the information you had been able to gather till now and then, you would drink and eat and have fun with your friend. Just one night of fun - you deserved that after everything. You had already thought of all the questions you were going to throw at him. You wanted to know how everyone was doing back home — Armin, Mikasa, Connie, Sasha, Commander Hange, and Captain Levi. Thinking about your home and your friends left you with a sense of longing. Closing your eyes, you brushed aside the melancholic feeling. You will reunite soon. Walking a little faster, you looked up to locate the bar you were supposed to meet Jean at and that is when you bumped into him.

                                                            ~~~

Reiner sighed. He had just dropped an enthusiastic Gabi at her home, and all he wanted to do now was get drunk and fall asleep. Sometimes, being around Gabi was tiring for him. The girl was hell-bent on inheriting his Armoured Titan thinking that it was the biggest honour in the world. How could he tell her otherwise? He himself didn’t know what he believed. He did, however, know that he didn’t want his cousin to go through what he did. But how does he explain all the anger, and the sadness, and the guilt that is buried deep inside of him to a 12-year-old when he himself couldn’t make any sense of his feelings?

If he hadn’t been lost in his thoughts and was watching where he was going, he probably would have avoided the collision altogether. When he finally realised what was happening, it was too late. There she was, her face covered behind her cape and walking straight towards him. The moment she crashes into him, Reiner holds her shoulders to help balance her. As he does so, he notices the piece of paper she was holding fall down on the road.

She apologises, so does he. As she walks past him, he bends down to pick up the piece of paper and calls out to her.

“You dropped something.”

She turns, and the world around him fades away.

                                                            ~~~

You have been on enough battlefields to understand what people mean when they say, “Time moved slowly” but this was the first instance you fully understood what “Time stood still” meant. You don’t know how long you have been standing on the street. Jean’s letter left forgotten in his hands. He cannot have that letter; it could compromise the entire operation. But at this moment, you can’t seem to care. You should snatch the letter and run away, but you don’t. You just stand there staring into his hazel eyes.

Long gone is the young boy that you looked up to. His hair is longer and his sharp cheekbones are now slightly covered under his goatee. You had grown up in the last four years, but so had he. His eyes were wide and staring back into your own. You opened your mouth to say some something - anything - but words wouldn’t come out. You could hear a loud thudding - maybe it was your heart or maybe your head, you weren’t sure. Your mind was blank all because he was standing in front of you.

Reiner Braun. The boy you had fallen in love with. The boy who was responsible for the death of your family and friends. The boy - no, man - who could still make your heart flutter.

You had known that there was a high possibility of running into him, but you still volunteered to be a part of the infiltration. Maybe you wanted to run into him. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Move! Speak! Do something! You screamed internally, but you felt frozen to your spot.

“Y/N,” he spoke, his voice shaky.

Your heart skips.

“Y/N,” he calls out to you.

The sound of his voice accelerated the already rampant pounding of your heart, and it felt like it would burst any second.

He took a step towards you. You took a step back.

“No,” your voice soft but firm.

You couldn’t face him after everything he had done.

                                                              ~~~

The one thing Reiner had wanted more than anything in his life was to see you again. Of course, he never expected that to ever come true. Ever since his return from Paradis, he has spent a countless number of nights thinking about how if he ever met you again, he would tell you everything and you would forgive him. He never expected that to happen either, but isn’t that why they are called dreams? Late at night, he could hope to see you again. In his dreams, he could imagine spending a life with you.

And now here you were. Standing right in front of him.

The young girl he had fallen in love with was now a beautiful woman. Not that you weren’t beautiful before. Back when he was pretending to be a soldier of Paradis, he had seen you covered in blood, sweat and grime several times and you were still the most beautiful human to ever grace the planet in his eyes. Your hair, which looked much shorter than the last time he had seen you, was framing your face. Besides the guarded expression that you wore, your eyes were locked with his own.

“No,” you spoke as you stepped away from him.

His throat went dry. His palms moistened and he could hear the crinkle of the piece of paper he was holding as he clenched his hands. Reiner couldn't be certain that this wasn't a dream. His hands were itching to touch you, to feel the smoothness of your skin, and to confirm that you were indeed standing in front of him.

“I —” he spoke again, but stopped. What could he even say? That he was sorry? A simple ‘I’m sorry’ wasn’t enough. He knew he could never atone for all the violence he had ensued; for all the people that were dead because of him. The apology that was stuck in his throat was too little, too late.

You tilted your head slightly, and Reiner saw how your guarded expression slowly changed into something else. Your eyebrows narrowed and your face flushed a deep shade of red.

“Reiner,” you spat out his name.

Although he was expecting it, the venom in your voice startled him. The air between the two of you had shifted, becoming much more tense. His glance flickered from you to his surroundings. He could feel their watchful gaze on the two of you. Everybody in Liberio knew who he was. The people walking by seemed quite interested in what was happening between the Armoured Titan and the woman he was with. Looking back at you, he realised things could go south quickly. Hastily, he reached for your arm, without giving you a chance to fight him, and dragged you to the nearest alley, away from prying eyes.

“Back off, Braun.”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“And you shouldn’t have been at my home, but things don’t always happen according to plan now, do they?” you retorted.

“I know this doesn’t count for anything, but I’m sorry. If I could go back in time, I would do things differently,” he admitted.

You looked away, breaking off the eye contact, “Well, you can’t.”

The slanting rays of the setting sun shone on your face, making you seem more alluring than ever. He was so screwed. 

                                                             ~~~

His admission caught you off guard. Did he regret doing what he did? Was he genuinely sorry? He did apologise, but how could you trust what he said? You had trusted him once, with your life and your heart, and look what happened.

“Was any of it real?” you asked.

Your eyes were trained on the cat rummaging for scraps in the alley dumpster, but your ears were straining to hear his answer. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, specially if he confirmed he had merely used you for his mission.

“Yes. All of it. All of us,” he replied.

You turned your head and risked a peek in his direction.

“I — The mission was to break the wall, blend in, and bring the Founding Titan to Marley. You were never supposed to be a part of it.”

His eyes were focused on you.

“I tried really hard, you know. I tried not to fall in love with you. Annie and Bertolt realised what was happening as well and tried to keep me away from you, but we all know how that worked out,” he chuckled ruefully. “You were fierce when you protected and stood up for your friends. You were sweet and kind and understanding. You had been through so much —” his eyes cast downward “ — and yet you still could love and be kind.”

He looked back up at you. “By the time I realised what you meant to me, it was too late.”

You screwed your eyes shut. No, this couldn’t be happening. Four years. It had taken you four years to heal your heart and here he was breaking down your walls all over again.

“Stop,” you whispered.

“You deserve the truth, (Y/N)” he spoke softly.

You shook your head and opened your eyes. They burned with unshed tears.

“I never meant to hurt you, and I would spend the rest of my life making things right. I loved you.”

All this time you had been telling yourself that the bond you had shared with Reiner was nothing but a lie. He never cared about you. You were simply a means to an end for him. But the words spilling from his mouth were enough to turn your world upside down. You looked up as you felt the heat from his body. You could feel his breath on your face. Were you two standing this close before?

“I love you,” he whispered.

Your heart skipped a beat, your eyes jumping from his lips to his eyes. Reiner leaned in and you let him. You parted your lips and felt him washing over you like a wave of warmth. Your entire body tingled. The kiss started soft and slow with your arms locked with his. He took a step back when the two of you came back for air.

“I’m sorry, I needed to do that —” he started speaking, but you placed your hands behind his neck and pulled him in.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, holding your body close. He pulled you in, claiming your mouth once again, this time hungry and intense, until your knees gave in. His hands were on your hips and he lifted you up as if you weighed nothing. He moved the two of you so your back touched the wall. His body was pressing into yours and you inhale his scent. He still smelled like the boy who won you over years ago.

The two of you come back for air and he presses his forehead against yours.

There were a million thoughts running through your head. Reiner couldn’t know why you were in Marley, he couldn’t know about your friends being in Marley either, and oh shit, you were supposed to meet up with Jean. But right now, none of that mattered to you. All that mattered was that Reiner was here, with you, kissing you.

“I love you too, Reiner.”

                                                              ~~~

If an ex who killed your friends and family tries to walk back into your life, please run far, far away.

[pascalpanic]

Just One Mission (Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x Champagne’s Daughter!Reader)

Inspo: I Like It, I Love It by Tim McGraw

Summary: Your father, Champ, runs Statesman, and you’re his best- and only- female agent. Your normal partner, Tequila, is out, leaving you with another agent. Normally this would be fine, but it’s with Whiskey, who practically ignores you, despite the fact that you’re crushing hard on him. You’re sent to the county fair to track an undercover bad guy under the guise of being a couple for your latest mission, and it starts to feel more and more like something is happening, not just between your fictional couple.

WC: 5.1k

Warnings: language, obvious mentions of alcohol (this is Statesman after all)

A/N: Can I get a yeehaw for our favorite cowboy? Biggest of thank yous to @remmysbounty for helping me name this!

“You can’t be serious. Why can’t anything ever be straightforward around here? Why do I always have to go play make-believe?” You asked, pushing your glasses back up your nose to clarify his hologram. You move from where you stand, against the window showing the New York skyline, to walk towards the meeting table.

Champ gives a chuckle, as if he knows everything. Of course he does. He’s your boss and he never fails to make that known. “You came into this job knowing you’d be doing undercover work, Amaretto,” Champ says with a pointed look. You bite down on your lip to avoid cussing and look down to avoid his eyes. “Plus, you’re our best. And our only lady.”

“Whose fault is that?” you grumble, crossing your arms. Normally it doesn’t bother you much, but today you wished more women worked in the field. “Why can’t I go with Tequila? Him and I work well together, you know that,” you ask, hating your voice and your tone. You sound like a whiny teen complaining to her dad. Honestly, it was close enough, and maybe even worse: you were a fully grown woman complaining to her dad.

Your father, Champ, sighs and removes his hat. “For God’s sake, ‘Retto. Tequila’s mission has been extended. I’m sorry to tell you that Agent Whiskey will be your partner for just one mission, for one night.”

“Dad, I-”

“That’s Champ when you’re in here, Amaretto,” he chides, which makes you groan and plop down on an office chair, kicking your legs up onto the table and crossing them. “It’s a small mission. You can handle it. Whiskey’ll treat you right.”

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you knew you could handle it. You would be more than fine pretending to be Whiskey’s sweetheart for the evening. It was what came after that you didn’t want. You had known Jack for a while now, and had been hiding a crush ever since the man first entered your life. 

You had been a Statesman ever since your father revealed to you that he wasn’t just the head of the Kentucky distillery- he was the head of a spy organization under the same name. Your career here hadn’t been long, but you were already proving that the skills must run in the family. You were the first female field agent, had a perfect mission record, and no unnecessary kills or injuries. That impressed Jack as much as the rest of the facility, maybe even more. You were a stunning and sharp woman with brains to match. 

As much as Whiskey wanted to flirt with you, to tell you just what he thought of you, he held back. Your father held his job by a string. In order to hold back everything he thought, he kept a distance. You were the only woman in the company Whiskey didn’t flirt with. “He hates me,” you say sharply to your father, telling him what you really thought Whiskey’s opinion of you was. He complimented every woman around him, but he actively avoided you. When you had talked in the past, it was brief and he had always found an excuse to leave. How else could you take that?

“Prob’ly just jitters around the boss’s girl,” your father drawls, and you want to scream and shout and throw a temper tantrum. “Besides, you both have roles. Neither of you have to be yourself.”

Stopping you before you can launch into a rant, a knock comes at the meeting room door. You look and- speak of the devil- Whiskey peeks his head in, finding you alone in the meeting room. “Sorry. Heard ya talking, you in a meeting?”

Your father laughs as he hears the man’s voice. “Tell him to put on the glasses,” he tells you, only audible through your earpiece. You relay the message to him and once Jack’s glasses are on, he straightens a little, addressing your father. “Good to see you, Whiskey. Just telling Amaretto about the mission,” Champ tells him, and you roll your eyes.

“Right, that mission. Next week?” He asks, clarifying, eyes darting to you briefly before finding your father again.

“You got it.” A knock comes at the meeting room in Kentucky, and your father turns for a moment, then back to the two of you. “Ginger’s callin’. Talk to you later, darlin’, and you too, Whiskey.” He takes off his glasses and the image of him disappears. 

You remove your legs from the table, swiveling your chair and removing your glasses. “How exciting, huh?” You ask dryly, eyes finding Whiskey’s. “The hottest week of the summer and he’s sending us to Alabama to spend a night outside.”

Jack chuckles a little, your sarcasm penetrating through the shield he has up specifically to deflect you. “At the county fair, no less. Couldn’t these idiots set up shop in a refrigerated warehouse?” He sighs, adjusting his hat. 

Tearing your eyes from him, you look out of the impressive window instead. “Sure to be a fun time,” you shake your head. He looks so handsome, and it makes you want to punch something. “Why my father loves to put me in these situations, I’ll never know. He’d never do this to Julep,” you lament. “I must be the expendable kid.”

“Julep is 17,” Whiskey reminds you, raising a brow. “You’re the only one of age, and you’re probably the only competent one too. He showed me a video of Rosé at the gun range and good Lord, how the hell did a man like that birth something so clumsy?”

��Why do you know so much about my sisters?” You ask him, tilting your head. 

“Your father never shuts up about ‘em. He shows them off constantly,” he shrugs. “Shows us videos, pictures. Even knew plenty about you before you came.” You raise an eyebrow at that, and he shakes his head quickly. “Barely anything personal. Hell, I don’t know your real name. He’s never called you or your sisters anything but your nicknames.”

You stand, gathering the folder you brought into the room with you. “Well, that’s a comfort. I’m not Champ’s daughter, I’m Agent Amaretto, and that’s the way I’d like to keep it,” you say, your voice slipping away from sharp and into flirtation. Whiskey’s deadpan slips into a smile and you press the folder into his chest as you walk past him, and out of the room. The smile grows wider as he turns to follow you.

-

Whiskey was right. It’s the hottest week of the summer, the August heat making you feel sticky and swollen, and you’re in Alabama. Disgusting. You look in the mirror and groan as you look at yourself. You were told that you and Jack need to blend into the atmosphere of the county fair, and you sighed. 

The past week, the two of you had prepped for your mission, slowly melting the thick layer of ice that subdued both your crush and his flirtation. He had slowly slipped into his regular self around you, which you didn’t notice. You didn’t know the real him. You had become more of yourself too; less sharp, more smiles, even a few laughs at his terrible southern euphemisms and adages. He finally called you darlin’ and sugar and sweet thing, and you felt your face warm more than it should. You let your walls down by the time you got on the plane, joking around with him and making actual conversation. During the flight, the two of you had enjoyed picking cover names, deciding on Beau and Jolene Pruitt, a newly married couple. Both were native Alabamians with thick drawls, not that it would be out of character for Jack.

Getting to wear casual clothing around that man excited you far more than it should, and you had spent a stupid amount of time picking out something that would fit in but also look nice. The wardrobe women had packed you plenty of options to mix and match from, and you settled on something that seemed to be a mix between your cover and yourself. You wore short denim cutoffs, ripped and distressed, with cowboy boots to match. You also wore a white tank top and a red, white, and blue flannel, either to be worn open or tied around your waist. A large gold cross pendant rested on your cleavage, as many women around here similarly had. It was imperative that neither you nor Whiskey could be recognized, and you had been given a wig of thick hair the opposite of your natural color, plaited into two French braids that were long and ended around your waist. No mission was complete without your gold, wire-rimmed Statesman glasses. 

You have to admit, you enjoy this look, minus the gaudy jewelry. You get to show off a little bit more than you normally would, and you secretly hope Whiskey may up his flirtation with you. You’re recognizable to someone who would know you, but the change of hair color and the glasses are a solid cover-up. You snap a picture in the mirror, sending it off to the ladies in the wardrobe department.  you ladies spoil me- I love getting to look cute for a change!

The women reply a moment later with a picture of all of them. You’re always cute, sugar! Show that man what he’s missing!

So, maybe you had confided to the wardrobe ladies that you found Jack attractive. Who didn’t? They agreed, but all showered you with attention and insisted you should make a move on this mission. You had said no, but they had hounded you over and over until you told them yes. It was a lie, but they didn’t need to know that.

A knock comes at your hotel door, and you smile before you can stop yourself. You force yourself to drop it, tossing one of the braided tails over your shoulder, and open the door. “Well there, Beau,” you drawl as you see Whiskey, but you stop and laugh a little as you scan his body. 

His reaction is the exact same, after a brief scan of your outfit. You both break into laughter. Jack is wearing cowboy boots, jeans, a white t-shirt, and a flannel with a different pattern but the same colors- red, white, and blue. “Stealing my thunder with the outfit, I see. Are you going to put your costume on or what?” You ask teasingly, and he shakes his head. 

“Believe it or not, Jolene, this is my costume. Seems the only different thing about being Beau is my name.” He grins wide at you, adjusting his similarly gold-rimmed aviators that rest beneath his classic Stetson. 

You shake your head but smile. “Why am I not surprised?” You tease, turning and grabbing your phone and the large bulletproof purse you’d be carrying tonight. “The ladies in the wardrobe department are going to love this,” you chuckle, and then freeze for a second. 

They did this on purpose. 

Whiskey has the same thought as you. He had confided in the ladies in the wardrobe department that he found you absolutely stunning but unattainable, due to the fact that your father was the control of his… everything. They had chattered excitedly, telling him that he should make his move on the mission too. He had done the exact same as you- said yes, but as an appeasement. “Well, they sure are. We’ll have to get someone to take a picture of us while we’re there.”

You nod, your heart skipping a beat at the fact that he wants a photo of this. It’s just for the mission, of course, you tell yourself and brush it off. “Oh, and that’ll be perfect cover. Of course these two would want a photo taken of them. We can do it right in front of the marks- better yet, we can ask them to take the picture,” you chuckle happily and sling the heavy purse over your body. 

“Or we can take a picture now,” he chuckles, nodding to the mirror you just took a picture in a moment ago.

“Sure,” you nod and lead him over to it. “Uh… smile?” You laugh and hold out your flannel for the photo. Jack makes finger guns and gives the camera a seductive face in the mirror, making you laugh. “Jesus, I thought you were the smooth agent.”

“Smoother than you. You’re smooth like a gravel road in a dry spell, look at that pose,” he says and zooms in on the picture. “Pose like you have some confidence in that pretty little head, honey,” he teases. “Copy me.” He makes the same pose, and you mimic it, taking a picture before bursting out laughing. “Much better,” he nods as he looks at the image. “Better send me that,” he nudges your side before walking to the door. “Well, Jo, let’s get this show on the road.” Smiling at the picture, you send the image to the wardrobe ladies. very subtle, Charlotte! You fire off before pocketing your phone and following him along. “Aw, Jo and Beau,” you coo, your personas snapping into place as soon as you leave the hotel room, clutching his arm. 

The two of you meander down through the hotel, finding your way to the parking lot. You break away from him to sit in the Bronco (of course he brought it) but you find yourself missing the contact of your arms intertwined. It’s probably for the best though, you think to yourself. If you have to keep touching him all night, it’s quite possible the Alabama heat may melt whatever’s left of the iceberg you’ve built to hold back your crush on him. 

-

A man bumps into you, and Whiskey is at your defense before you can defend yourself. “Watch it, cowboy,” Jack fires back, his hand resting on the small of your back. You smile up at him, practically making heart eyes. It looks in character, and you’re glad for that, but it’s entirely you. 

“My hero,” you giggle and place your hand on his chest. 

“Just for you, sugar,” he says sweetly and you beam up at him. He looks around, as you do, but the two of you rest there. It’s hot, unbearably, but yet you enjoy the contact your body makes with his. Both of you wear your flannels around your waist, allowing your grip on his arm to hold his strong muscles directly. It’s definitely enjoyable. “You hungry, honey?” He asks. 

You have to admit, you haven’t eaten much today, mainly out of nerves for the mission. But everything is going just swimmingly: you have eyes on the target, have a plan to infiltrate them later, and are now just biding time to seem normal. “I… yeah, I am,” you nod and look up at him. “How ‘bout some cotton candy?”

“Now, darlin’, if you’re hungry, that ain’t gonna do the trick,” he says and raises an eyebrow, removing his aviators and hooking them on his collar. “This is the county fair, for cryin’ out loud. Let’s get you something deep fried.” You nod in agreement and the two of you wander over to a stand selling various deep-fried atrocities. You smile and chuckle, letting him order for the two of you. The vendor hands you each a ridiculously large corn dog, and you laugh. 

The smell of the food makes your stomach growl. “Oh god, I didn’t realize just how hungry I was,” you moan as you bite into the food, your thick accent dropping. “Good choice, babe,” you tell him, smiling at how easily it comes. 

“I know you, sugar,” he teases, leading you to a picnic table where he sits across from you, munching on his own. No one else is around here, allowing you to speak freely. “Really, I do. I found out your real name the other day,” he says with a smile, and you nearly choke on the breading, halfway down your throat. He finally says your name aloud, drawing it out, making it sound like it’s coated in honey and dripping with flirtation.

You look down at your food, biting your lip. “Who told you that?” you ask, still staring down.

Jack chuckles at that, ignoring the question. “Beautiful name for a beautiful lady,” he teases, and you chuckle, shaking your head. The flirtation is much better than the stone-cold silence before a week ago, but it doesn’t do anything for the growing crush you have on the man. “Champ must’ve known you’d be a stunner.”

“Have you heard of nominative determinism?” you ask as you look up, tilting your head and twirling one of the long braids of your wig around your finger. The words sound funny with the thick accent you’re putting on. Whiskey shakes his head. “It’s this theory that your name shapes who you become. So, if you said that my name was chosen for beauty, I would grow to become my name, so I’d be beautiful.” He nods a little at that. “Do you believe in that kind of thing?” you ask him genuinely, tilting your head and taking another bite of the corn dog. 

“Clearly,” he chuckles through a mouthful of food before swallowing it. “Your name is pretty, you’re pretty. Someone has a name with a bad reputation, they become it.”

“Your mama named you Jack Daniels, you become Agent Whiskey,” you tease with a growing smile, accentuating that drawl that you’ve perfectly picked up from your father and the mustached man in front of you. “I’ve thought about that a lot with you. Did they assign you that name because of your name? My dad never talked about work with us before I became an agent.”

Whiskey shakes his head at you but does give a laugh. “Prob’ly, just thought it’d be funny, I ‘spose. They needed a new Agent Whiskey anyway, I believe. Last one died or retired, they never told me. Filling the vacancy while making a pun out of it. Your father has a sense of humor, doesn’t he? ‘S sure great at givin’ nicknames.”

You shake your head at that. “Don’t I know it. He’s been calling me Amaretto since I could give him sass back. Told me I was a little bitter, just like the word means in Italian. Julep’s too sweet, Rosé is a mix of gentle and bold. No one calls us by our real names unless we’re in trouble,” you chuckle. “You should hear my mama shout when Julep gets in trouble. She nearly shakes the house, and Julep likes to avoid it by pretending she can’t hear her. She’ll hide in her room, and my mama just shouts and shouts until the neighbors come over to make sure the family’s all still alive. It’s in a loving way, of course, nothing bad.” You shake your head, clearing the topic from yourself. “But it’s like your mama knew you’d get into something with alcohol. That’s odd.”

Jack chuckles and takes the last bite of his food. He doesn’t respond, just cleans up his little area and waits for you to be done, watching you with his chin resting in his palm. You smile as you notice that, looking away, and he does too. The two of you stand and walk along again. He offers his hand, to hold it, and you take it. You’re not entirely sure that he did that as Beau, and you’re certain you didn’t take his hand as Jolene.

Walking through the midway, you catch your mark out of the corner of your eye. “Go time,” you murmur to the man, dropping his hand. “Sir,” you ask and pat the man’s shoulder as he walks past. He stops and you shoot him a cheesy, massive grin. “Hi there, would you mind takin’ a picture for my husband and I?”

The man nods. “Sure, ma’am. Where do you-”

“Oh wonderful. Here,” you say and position the man, handing him your phone, then move back to stand by Jack. “Beau, honey, here,” you say as you position the two of you for the camera. You wrap his arm around your waist and place your hand on his chest, grinning ear to ear. He’s doing the same.

“How ‘bout this?” he asks, swooping you up and holding you bridal style. 

You squeal into his ear, laughing. You almost call him by his real name but stop yourself. “Beau, quit!” You giggle and smack his chest teasingly, playing along with it and smiling for the photo. He lets you down only to pick you up again, hoisting you onto his back, piggyback style. Finding no other choice, you wrap your arms and legs around him, and he rests his hands on your thighs to hold you up. “Beau Pruitt!” You exclaim, emphasizing the words, hoping that the man taking your photos registers the name, knowing it’s not someone threatening. He’d probably take your phone and run if he heard you call the man holding you up by his real name. 

He finally lets you down and you thank the man, taking the phone back and continuing to walk along, naturally lacing your fingers through Jack’s. “What was that?” you ask lowly, smiling despite the pretend annoyance in your voice.

“Playin’ the part, sugar,” he shrugs and smiles at you. As you wander through the midway, Jack’s eye catches on a brightly colored, massive teddy bear hanging from the rafters. When Jack gets a plan, he goes all in. “You know what, honey, if this is to be a proper date, I am gonna win you a teddy bear,” he chuckles, grabbing his wallet.

You quickly push the hand holding his wallet down. “Don’t be ridiculous, babe. I don’t need a teddy bear,” you laugh.

“I am takin’ you on a date to the county fair. It’s only fitting that I win you a teddy bear!” He argues back, laughing. He hands a bill to the attendant, earning him quite a few balls to toss at the stacked milk jugs. “Here we go. This is for the big, tie-dye one up there,” he declares before hurling a ball. 

It hits the top jug and Jack winces. “Ah fuck. Bad shoulder,” he chuckles, picking up another.

“Then why the hell are you doing this, Beau?” you ask, catching yourself before you can call him Jack and holding down his arm. “I don’t need the teddy bear!”

“I already paid the attendant,” he chuckles and leans in to your face, taunting you. He uses your distraction to slip his arm from your grasp, throwing it and hitting the second row of bottles. “Hell yeah!” Jack crows excitedly, arms in the air. You laugh at his excitement and decide to let it happen. He throws three more balls before he knocks down the whole final row, whooping excitedly. “That one, if you please,” he tells the attendant and points to the large bear hanging from the ceiling of the booth. The attendant takes it down and hands it to him, and he promptly hands it to you, beaming. “For you, my dear,” he says, pride radiating from him.

“I love it,” you laugh and hug the massive bear to your chest, kissing its forehead. “I think I’ll name him… Whiskey.” He grins at that and takes your hand again, leading you through the crowd.

-

The rest of the night passes more like a date would than a mission. You and Jack converse happily, simply avoiding real names but talking like you would between friends. His hand rests in yours the whole night, and you enjoy it. The sun begins to go down and the humidity lessens, as does the stifling heat. It’s almost cool now; the both of you wear your flannels properly now, unbuttoned in the front. You munch contently on some cotton candy you finally convinced Jack to buy, even feeding him some to further your ruse. Sighing, you look around and take in the absolute perfection that is this tiny county fair. The sunset is beautiful and the lights of the carnival section are starting to come on. You start to speak until you hear a too-familiar voice through your earpiece.

“Amaretto, Whiskey. They set up shop in the pig barn, but they’re at their most vulnerable. Time to move.” You both groan as you hear your father’s voice. You look down at your interlocked hands between the two of you, then up quickly, remembering. Your father can see what you see with these glasses on. His voice comes in through your earpiece alone now. “See, I told ya it wouldn’t be so bad to spend a little time with Whiskey. I’ve noticed you’re not hating it.”

You shake your head and pull out your earpiece, tucking it in your pocket and murmuring a curse to your father. Jack notices and you simply shrug. “Wasn’t working right. You’re gonna have to relay the messages for me.”

He nods then pauses, listening. He chuckles and turns to you. “He says to put it back in, he knows you can hear him just fine.” You groan and put it back in with a frown. “Next time you want to have family dinner, count on one less plate,” you hiss through the piece, making both Jack and your father laugh. “Whatever, get us to the pig barn then.” Your father guides the two of you through your mission. They’re indeed at their weakest, just four men loading their van with their backs to you. Luckily, they’re the four that Statesman wants. You and Whiskey each easily take out two, leaving them tranquilized on the ground. “Pops, they’re good. Send in the recon van.” A few moments later, the van rushes in through the utility door, and two recon members load the men into the van. You and Whiskey give them a nod, smiling at them and thanking them before leaving the barn.

The voice comes through on just your earpiece again. “Take the rest of the night off. I know you want to.” 

He’s right, you do want to, and so for once, you listen to your damn father. “The rest of the night is up to us,” you say as you turn to Whiskey, removing your earpiece and your glasses and putting them in your bag. You reach for his earpiece, taking it out too, both of you almost shivering at the contact of your wrist to his cheek as you take it out. Jack catches your palm and plants a kiss to it and you grin. “Would you like to stick around, maybe go on some rides?” you ask and put away his earpiece before sliding your hand into his. “As Whiskey and Amaretto?”

Jack grins at you. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

The rest of the evening is spent on rides and eating ice cream, getting squished into Jack’s side on the Scrambler and flipped around on the Slingshot. You both laugh practically all night, overjoyed. You check your watch and look up excitedly, eyes lighting. “The fireworks are gonna go off in ten minutes.” You look at the wait for the ferris wheel- it’s about as long. “Let’s go on the ferris wheel to watch it.”

Jack nods. “Whatever you say, sugar,” he nods, lagging for a moment as you start to run to the next ride, then catching up and pulling you into his chest, kissing your head. You laugh at the feeling of being trapped in his arms and wrap your arms around him too, allowing the bear hug to last a moment longer than it should.

The both of you wait in line for a few minutes, continuing the conversation you’d been having before.

The line eventually shortens enough for the two of you to get on, and you sit, hands on the lap bar. Whiskey sits next to you, draping his arm across your shoulders. You look up at him and smile, scooting into his side. You give a little whoop of excitement as the ride starts moving, and you jump at a loud bang.

You timed it perfectly.

The sky lights with different colors, a variety of fireworks lighting off and illuminating the dark night sky. The stars are clear all the way out here, in the middle of Alabama, and you beam at the image. You pull out your phone to snap some pictures but Jack holds your hand down. “The pictures never do it justice, darlin’. Just look up at those and remember ‘em real hard.” Laughing softly, you rest your head on Jack’s shoulder as you watch. It’s stunning, absolutely gorgeous, and you look at Jack for a moment to find he’s not watching the sky, but has his eyes trained on your face, watching your reaction.

The moment is perfect. He can handle the rejection, he decides, if he has to, but he has to move now. “Can I kiss you, Amaretto?” He murmurs quietly, his face already moving close to yours. You give an answer in the form of a gesture: taking his face in your hands and closing the gap. The kiss is perfect, his soft lips tasting of the cotton candy you finally persuaded him to buy a few hours ago.

He sighs softly, his hand finding the side of your face as well. He breaks away for a moment and looks at your lovely face, grinning at the way your eyes reflect only his face, the dark night sky, and the colorful fireworks. “I think your pops named you wrong. Furthest thing from bitter. You’re the sweetest, most perfect thing I ever did taste,” he drawls before closing the space again, pressing his lips to yours. Your heart pounds in time with the bursts in the sky, erratic and loud, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re finally kissing the man you’ve been crushing on since the moment your father introduced you to the Statesman.

A particularly loud firework startles you and you jump, breaking your kiss and grinning at him, the adrenaline from both the scare and the kiss pounding its way through your body. You look at him and want to say something but can’t find the words. You simply giggle and look into his eyes, making him laugh too. You sit there for a moment, laughing, while the ferris wheel stays stationary. As it moves, you cling to his chest again, looking up and beaming at him. “Kiss me again, cowboy,” you demand, and he chuckles.

“Any time, sugar,” he says with a smile as he takes your chin in his hand and kisses you again.

[extasiswings]

Good morning, fellow clowns.  I had feelings about my own speculation re: the teased Buck and Christopher solo scene so...also on ao3.

When Buck first asks if he can watch Christopher when Eddie goes grocery shopping that week because he has something to discuss with him, he’s leaning against the kitchen counter while Eddie washes the dishes, his heart in his throat and hands shoved into his pockets in an attempt to project calm. For his part though, Eddie barely reacts. Or, more specifically, his brow furrows slightly as he glances over in confusion for a quick moment before turning back to his task.

“Of course,” Eddie replies. “Did you think I would say no? You spend almost as much time with him as I do—you don’t need to ask my permission to have a one-on-one conversation.”

He glances over again. “Unless you’re trying to rope him into pranking me again,” he adds. “I should probably put my foot down with that.”

Buck laughs quietly and shakes his head, feeling the knot of anxiety in his chest loosen. “No, nothing like that.”

He doesn’t offer anything more specific, but then, Eddie doesn’t ask either, just shrugs as he fits another plate into the drying rack.

“Then, yeah. Feel free. Saves me from having to ask anyone else anyway.”

And that’s it. The conversation shifts to the lighter topic of the likelihood that the man in the last call of the shift had been lying about how exactly he’d gotten stuck the way he had and it doesn’t come up again.

On Saturday, when Buck comes over again, the anxiety returns full force. And maybe it’s unreasonable because he knows that at the end of the day he’s not Christopher’s dad. He’s not Eddie. No matter what their relationship is like, Buck’s not a parent. But he feels that responsibility anyway, can still recall the crushing guilt of the lawsuit and being back in a grocery store—Do you even know how much Christopher misses you?—

He doesn’t want to repeat the same mistakes.

So, after a little while, he clears his throat and sits back in his chair across from where Chris is drawing at the kitchen table.

“Hey, buddy?”

Christopher doesn’t look up. “Yeah, Buck?”

“So, uh—you know how Maddie is having a baby?”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” Buck runs his hand through his hair, “I wanted to talk to you about that. Because babies are a lot of work and so she and Chim might need some help. And she’s my sister, so I want to be there for her if she needs it.”

The pencil stops scratching and Chris finally looks up. “When Aunt Sophia had the twins, Aunt Adri moved in with her for two months,” he says. “Like that?”

“Well, I don’t think I would move in,” Buck clarifies, some of the tension easing out of him. “But yeah. Kind of like that.”

“Okay.”

“So...so I might not be around here quite as much,” Buck adds, and then he’s pressing forward, leaning his elbows on the table as the dam breaks and words spill from his lips. “But I wanted—I just want you to know that you can call me whenever you want. And if you need me, I’ll come. I don’t—I know after the tsunami, I stopped coming around for awhile and I didn’t tell you first and that wasn’t fair. And I didn’t want to do that again, or make you think that you’ve done anything wrong or that I don’t care. Because I love you so much, okay? It’s just that Maddie might need me a little more for a few months.”

Christopher chews his lip for a minute as he considers that, and then nods.

“I can still call?”

“Every day if you want,” Buck assures. “And don’t let your dad say anything about you bothering me, because I promise it’s fine.”

“Okay.” Chris smiles. “I love you too, Buck. Can we have ice cream now?”

Buck laughs. “Yeah. Yeah, sure.”

And that’s it. Or at least, Buck thinks that’s it. Until he’s halfway through his first cup of coffee the next morning only to be interrupted by knocking on the door.

Eddie walks in the minute Buck opens the door, looking like he’s hardly slept. His hair is messy like he’s been running his hands through it and he hasn’t shaved—there’s a strange energy to him that makes Buck’s eyebrows shoot up as he slowly closes the door behind him.

“Hey,” he says, drawing the word out. “Everything okay?”

Eddie stops pacing. Opens his mouth. Closes it.

“I talked to Christopher last night,” he replies finally. “He told me what you two talked about.”

Buck’s stomach twists. “You said it was okay,” he points out. “But if I overstepped—”

“That’s not it,” Eddie interrupts. But he doesn’t elaborate, which doesn’t exactly clarify anything.

“Then…?” Buck crosses his arms over his chest. “Not that I mind you coming over unexpectedly—you know that’s fine—but I’m not sure what’s going on here.”

“Look, I—” Eddie clears his throat. “I’m careful. About who I let into Christopher’s life. Because Shannon, she wanted...a revolving door. Always open so she would have an out when things got hard but the option to walk back into his life when she felt like being his mother. And that wasn’t fair. And I never wanted to put him in that position again.”

Buck’s brow furrows. “I know. I’m trying—that’s why I wanted to talk to him. So he would know I wasn’t leaving. That if he needs me, I’ll be there. Eddie, I know I fucked up with the lawsuit, but I’m not going to again—”

“I know that,” Eddie interrupts. He blows out a breath. “I know. But I still thought—I was going to talk to Chris, you know. About everything. I just assumed...that it was a parent thing.”

“I’m confused,” Buck says slowly. “Are you...mad at me?”

“No.” Eddie looks up at the ceiling and rakes a hand through his hair, messing it up even further. The laugh that follows has an edge of disbelief. “I’m in love with you.”

Buck feels almost like he’s been hit over the head with a frying pan. He can’t seem to make his mouth work, just blinks and stares. His throat is dry, his feet glued to the floor.

“What?” He croaks out.

Eddie’s throat works as he swallows and Buck can’t quite help himself from tracking the movement.

“Chris told me what you said, and it made me think—made me realize—look, I haven’t dated,” Eddie says. “You know I haven’t. And a lot of that was because of my own shit, but it was also because of Chris, because I was worried about being able to be a partner to someone and also worried about having a partner to parent with. But Chris and I talked last night and I realized that—that I’ve put you in that place in my life without even thinking about it. And that scared me, but also didn’t because you love him that much—”

“I do,” Buck replies. “I really do, Eddie—like he was mine.”

“That’s all I’ve wanted.” Eddie looks wrecked, like every word is being dragged out of him, like he can’t help it but isn’t sure whether he should be holding back instead. And Buck’s own heart clenches as he steps forward, wanting nothing more than to make that look go away.

“All I wanted was for someone to love him like that. For someone to stay.”

“I’ll stay,” Buck says, closing the distance. Eddie’s eyes search his face. His hands reach out, then fall, aborting the motion as if he’s not sure he’s allowed.

“I’ll stay,” he repeats, and he reaches out since Eddie won’t, his hand fitting smoothly around Eddie’s waist. “For Chris. And for you. It’s not—it’s not just you, Eddie. God, I’ve been in love with you—”

Eddie cuts him off with a kiss. His hands fist in the front of Buck’s shirt, clearly past whatever paralysis had frozen him before. He kisses like he’s drowning and Buck is a life preserver, and Buck kisses back with everything in him, pressing Eddie against the wall.

“I’ve been an idiot,” Eddie breathes out when they break apart. “I should have realized—”

Buck shakes his head. “You have Chris. You’ve always put him first and you should. Whatever this is with us—there’s no rush. If you need to walk out of here and pretend this never happened—”

“I don’t,” Eddie replies. “I don’t want to forget or pretend anything—I may not know what the fuck I’m doing, but I know I want you.”

Buck surges forward and kisses him again. “Okay. Okay, then—you have me. You have me.”

When Eddie smiles, it lights Buck up like sunlight.

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: Hi. I hope you had/are having a great summer break. I (INTP) am hoping for some perspective about an issue. Recently, my mother, whom I hadn’t seen in a while, became incredibly frustrated that I corrected her with an alleged “I know everything” attitude.

It’s an issue of concern because she revealed that I always do this. I guess this was the straw that broke it, especially given that what we were discussing was very trivial. (Maybe the frivolousness of the subject is precisely what made my correction seem more pedantic, unnecessary, arrogant.) She says that my attitude disregards her long life experience, and that if she were a stranger, she would think of me as a “snot-nosed brat who knows nothing about life” instead of as a “wise young person”, which is the viable alternative. She said that I am closed-minded and that I shoot everything down. (The problem of small-mindedness is what you addressed the only other time I wrote to you.)

I don’t know why I come off as arrogant. I’m sure that I’m not. I asked my mother what it was that made her think that, which she thought was a silly question because what she sensed was a general demeanor rather than specific behaviors. In the end we were only able to establish that my lack of eye contact was one of those factors. I can work on that, but surely that’s not determinant. What makes people think of others as arrogant? Should I stop correcting people? I don’t correct others in order to feel superior to them. I do it because I like to debate, in order to keep my thinking sharp, and because there is something painful about friends/family having false notions. I think it’s fair to say that my intention isn’t rooted in arrogant soils.

Granted, my suggestion of stopping correcting people is black-and-white, given that there is the grey option of changing the *way* I correct people. I’m just wondering if it’s an unhealthy habit in the first place. But given how prevalent a thought process it is (i.e. questioning people’s statements and finding faults), the process of getting rid of it may be akin to self-directed psychological violence. I mean, this is the same mode of being that makes me good at what I’m good at. (There’s also the option of keeping the thought process, but not correcting people aloud, but I don’t know what else there is to talk about other than analyzing ideas and their faults. Maybe I should analyze ideas for their strengths too, and express that side more than the faults.)

So anyway, let’s go with grey: So far I’ve tried thinking of an arrogant person that I know in order to understand my behavior, but I can’t think of anyone. Also, no matter how hard I try to put myself in someone else’s shoes in order to simulate an interaction with myself, it doesn’t really work, and I can’t see the arrogance, except if I were to just tell someone “that’s wrong” without any explanation. (I wonder if that’s what went wrong in the conversation with my mother.) Either way, this whole issue boils down to the fact that I’m not arrogant by any reasonable criteria that I found online, but that I come off as such. This was longer than intended. Thanks for your kindness and help.

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

Here are some questions for you to reflect on. They are meant to increase awareness of your underlying assumptions, beliefs, and values. Answer honestly:

Do you care about your mom? Do you care about how she's faring, what she's experiencing, what she's thinking or feeling, what she needs and desires, what she hopes for or aspires to, etc?

If you care, how do you SHOW your care to her?

If you don't care, how does that affect your behavior toward her?

Do you believe that the mother-child relationship only goes one-way? (Is it the mom's job to do for you but you owe her nothing?)

You say you like to debate to sharpen your mind. Innocent enough. I like to roller skate to keep myself physically fit. In an ideal world, I would never take my skates off. Does my enthusiasm for roller skating mean that I slap my skates on anywhere, any time? No. Surely it is inappropriate to skate around a hospital or the supermarket. Not only could I seriously harm myself, I would also be exhibiting flagrant disregard for the safety and well-being of others.

What you like to do for yourself sometimes comes into conflict with other people. If you care about people and hope to have healthy and happy relationships with them, you have to take their needs and wants into consideration in every interaction. You have to abide by ethical rules and principles that allow your needs to be met without neglecting the needs of others or interfering with their ability to get their needs met. Without ethics, society wouldn't be able to function, because it would just be a free-for-all.

You mention small-mindedness. It is quite small-minded to walk around the world only thinking about what you need/want. In the best case scenario, you are completely oblivious to others, and they will perceive you as clueless or self-absorbed. In the worst case scenario, you only interact with people for your own personal gain, and that would make you an exploitative or even abusive person. Is that the kind of person you want to be?

Do you basically treat people as though their sole purpose on earth is to debate you and help you sharpen your mind - to serve you? Do you launch into debates with people without asking for consent or checking to see if they want to be corrected? If you do, they will call you arrogant, not because you've put yourself on a pedestal and call yourself superior like an evil cartoon character, but because you are communicating to them that your needs/wants are most important AND you don't give a damn about theirs.

Webster's definition of arrogance: "an insulting way of thinking or behaving that comes from believing that you are better, smarter, or more important than other people". You believe that you know better, otherwise, you wouldn't grant yourself the social authority to intrude on people's boundaries, invalidate their experience, and correct them uninvited. You believe that you are smarter, otherwise, you wouldn't automatically assume the dominant social role of corrector. You behave as though you are the more important member of the relationship because your main priority is YOUR need to feel better (about your skills or about what others believe) while overlooking the other person's needs. Seems like you fit the definition quite well.

Despite that, I wouldn't call you arrogant because I understand that small-mindedness is a difficult problem to overcome. I see the effort that you're putting in to understand it. I'm charitable because I'm not the one who was hurt by your behavior. When people feel hurt, they often have difficulty expressing it. Maybe it comes out clumsily or they aren't able to explain their hurt without hurting you in return. Expressing one's true feelings is to make oneself vulnerable. If someone doesn't trust you to understand and validate their feelings or, worse, they believe that you will attack them for their feelings, they will not be completely honest with you. Your mom is trying her best to give you the benefit of the doubt by saying "if you were a stranger...", but she doesn't feel comfortable enough with you to express her hurt fully and explicitly as it happens. Why? Because the very reason she is hurt in the first place is that you have shown very little regard for her feelings. Following from the previous post of yours, the root of the problem is that you have such a poor understanding of feelings to begin with that you view them as inconsequential in yourself and others (very immature Fe).

I believe you have no ill-intent. I have said before that the typical Ti dom never sets out to hurt people on purpose. Rather, they hurt people unintentionally because their perspective is too small: 1) they don't grasp that other people's needs may be very different from their own and thereby fail to consider them, 2) they don't know how to empathize with different perspectives and validate them, and/or 3) they don't understand that SHOWING love and care is necessary for people to justify continued investment in the relationship.

In other words, Ti doms tend to hurt people out of negligence or acts of omission. Some of them get frustrated at not being able to solve their relationship problems. They might try to convince themselves that doing nothing means that no harm can be done, so they adopt a passive stance in the relationship and perhaps even train themselves to keep their mouth shut (self-violence). They fail to understand that there's more than one way to cause hurt. Instead of learning better relationship skills, they check out mentally and emotionally. Being checked out only makes it worse because you hurt yourself and you keep hurting others by being even less attentive to their needs.

The foundation of meaningful relationships is showing care. In a healthy relationship, people trust you to care for their emotional needs and not violate their personal boundaries. If you only attend to your own needs/wants in social interaction, you are signalling that you don't really care about the other person. This problem with your mom shows that you give little to no consideration for emotional needs and personal boundaries. If you don't want friends, it's entirely your choice to be alone for the rest of your life, pretending that you never leave any footprints behind you. If you want friends, you'll have to put out more effort to be a better friend, by paying more attention to the consequences of your behavior.

Doing things that violate trust and boundaries, even if unintentional, causes hurt. When people feel hurt and don't feel safe to express the hurt, they are liable to say/do negative things. To have good emotional intelligence is to see past the surface of their negative words/behavior and grasp the underlying emotional needs that were unmet and/or the personal boundaries that were violated. Only then can you be a morally responsible member of a relationship, in terms of owning all the ways that you impact people, both positively and negatively.

Arrogant people don't care about the social impact they produce. As long as they get what they want and don't lose anything, the existence of others is of little importance to them. If your mom is important to you, then learn how to show it better by listening to her when she tells you about her needs/wants. You hyperfocus on the literal meaning of the word "arrogant" and whether it is true/false of you, as though proving it false means that there's nothing wrong. You need to listen to the people you have hurt, if you want to understand why your behavior is hurtful. Alternatively, you need to educate yourself about emotional needs, interpersonal boundaries, and what constitutes un/ethical behavior and why.

[otomegema]

title: Convergence Theory, ch. 2 pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader summary: You are a lesser family member of the Gojo clan, so far removed you don’t even carry the name, but you carry the Limitless ability and thus the potential to be a bride to the future head of the clan— a fact you patently reject at fifteen. Twelve years later you are a second grade sorcerer struggling to obtain first grade status when the object of your deepest objections offers you a deal. rating: mature tropes: fake dating/engagement, rivals to lovers, slow romance Link: Archive of Our Own

It had been a logical move to allow Gojo to take down your number, entering it into his contacts with an obscene amount of heart and wishing star emojis by the brief glance you caught over his shoulder. It looked like he was already banking on your acceptance of the deal, but when you parted, your to-go sushi in a small plastic bag, you hadn’t expected to hear from him until tomorrow evening at the latest.

Or maybe even never.

But now, back in the hotel you were being comped for while in Tokyo, you wished silently that you’d never given that man your cell phone number.

Honey

Baby

Future-pretend-love-of-my-life

Have you made a decision?

He wasn’t human. It was barely 6am, did he wake up this early for lessons every day? You groaned, nearly swatting the phone off the nightstand in the dark.

You shot back a fast reply.

-oh I’m sorry

-I’m still recovering from getting electrocuted the other day

-Some asshat led a curse to me

You rolled over, managing to get at least another decent half hour of sleep in before the phone chimed again, lighting up the darkened hotel room.

\(★ω★)/

YOUR asshat

Should you choose to accept this mission

You threw off your covers, forcing yourself up to sit against the stack of pillows behind you as you tapped out a reply.

-My pretend asshat

-Mother will be so proud

The dots of his reply began immediately.

So is that a yes?

You sighed, rolling your eyes to yourself.

-Day isn’t over -Hasn’t even started tyvm

The dots began. Stopped. Began and stopped again, this time not reappearing. You tossed your phone onto the bed and teetered up and over to the coffee maker. The pot was finishing brewing by the time your phone chimed again.

You’re so slow.

The addition of punctuation and the sudden lack of emoji seemed almost like a warning flare that Gojo’s patience was waning. But you hardly knew the man and really, what did you care? A favor for a favor was what he offered. You didn’t owe him anything.

I have other options too.

His text continued and for a moment you frowned, wondering if his intention was to have that sound like a threat. You felt heat rising in your throat— he didn’t want to play that game.

So no pressure. Genuinely.

Oh. Good. That was better. You felt the tension uncoil as fast as it had grown.

Tho I AM your only hope for advancement <3

You could have thrown the phone right through the wall. Your thumbs worked rapidly, shooting out your reply in no time.

-Ah yes, your finest quality

A quick appearance of dots.

My special grade ranking? (･ω<)☆

You smirked.

-Humility

You’re no fun.

Text me when you are done being boring.

This was probably the most you had ever spoken to Gojo, despite having seen him on and off from a distance for the better half of your life. He was hard to miss. Every event at the main house would have him and his immediate family at the forefront. No one ever stopped talking about Gojo Satoru and his accomplishments and his strength and his skill as a sorcerer.

It was nauseating, having to pretend to nod and smile like it was all some great blessing just to orbit near him. It was bad enough he read like a sun to your abilities, as if he needed to be made to think he was anymore of the center of the universe.

Your palm itched. The desire to tap back a response now, a firm denial, very strong. But not stronger than your excitement at the possibility of being a first grade sorcerer. It was everything you had wanted. Prestige, recognition, tougher missions and the pay and rewards that came with them.

You were no weakling. Sure the telemetry technique took you out of commission, but it was hardly your greatest feat. You had finally been able to manifest the cursed technique lapse, blue. Granted, it was a one off and exhausted you so fully afterwards that you nearly fainted on the spot… but your tolerance was getting better. The precision of your manipulation of your cursed energy would never be on par with Gojo, but you could, some day, maybe even manage to shoot the technique off twice.

Reversal Red was next to impossible. And Hollow Technique? Truly impossible. The Six Eyes was needed to even attempt it. Most of your practice had been devoted to perfecting your long distance teleportation skills, fine tuning your telemetry technique and working on establishing your domain. That one was easier. The Unlimited Void crushed your opponent beneath an overload of sensory information, information you could easily channel and tap into with your own unique skills as a Limitless user.

But like all things, you were only second best. And barely. It was a joke. Comparing yourself to Gojo. He was on a level you could never achieve— unless.

You grabbed your phone, hastily dialing the new number and wincing at the loud, cheerful greeting from the other line.

“Good morning, moon of my soul, tenderest heart, darling—!“

“I haven’t even said yes yet, you monster.”

“Ah! A name of my very own? Be still my trembling heart!”

“I wish to make an amendment to the agreement.”

There was a lengthy pause. You could practically hear the slow spread of that sly smile. Content as the cat who caught the canary.

He knew he was about to win.

“Let’s hear it.”

“If you are putting my name forward for first grade, that means you have someone else in mind to be the second backer and someone in mind for me to shadow on missions and train with, yeah?

“I do.” Gojo said, his tone surprisingly serious.

“Have them put my name forward instead. I want to shadow you.”

Gojo laughed, a short mirthless thing, “What makes you think I have the time?”

“You have enough time to play pretend, I’d think any fiancé would leap at the chance to be with his lovely wife-to-be and keep her safe.”

Gojo hummed.

“Why me?”

This was an oddly familiar conversation.

“Purely selfish reasons. You are the best Limitless user. I am a Limitless user. I want you to teach me.”

“You aren’t on my level.” He said, no malice in his words, just simple facts.

“Then teach me what I can handle.”

There was another pause.

“I’m not gonna go easy on you just because you’re my girl.”

The bare utterance of the endearment sent a shiver up your arms and not an entirely pleasant one either. His girl. God, how would you even begin to explain this fake engagement to your parents? Who knew the depth of your jealousy and bitterness over Gojo since you were— what? Five? Younger?

“Since I am just your ‘pretend’ girl, I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“Your funeral, babe.” Gojo said, “But I’m glad we resolved this early! Because we are having dinner. Reservations are made, I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something pretty!”

Your words caught in your throat, stuttering across your tongue and unable to force out before the line cut off and he was gone.

You pressed the edge of your phone to your temple, already feeling a headache coming on. Something pretty? Shit.

-Something pretty? -Too vague. I have no idea what I’m supposed to wear.

A dress! Something for the evening. A Line.

V Neck def

Show off what puberty gave ya (＾〃＾)

Chiffon with ruffle lace

And grey-blue

-Why?

To match my eyes <3

-Where in the world do you expect me to find that specific dress in the next few hours

Downstairs with hotel staff I had it dropped off <3 <3 <3

-That’s creepy

(つω`｡) </3 </3

-Enough with the hearts -How much? I’ll pay you back

It is a gift <3

-How’d you even know my size

A gentleman never reveals his secrets

┐(‘～` )┌

You sighed and set aside your phone to call down to the front desk. Sure enough, a few minutes later someone brought up a large white box, tied with a grey-blue ribbon. You set the package on the small counter in your room’s kitchen and opened the lid, brushing aside soft tissue paper.

The dress was ridiculously soft, made of fine, nearly translucent layers of chiffon. It was a lovely color, the sight making you suddenly think of the feeling in the air before a thunderstorm, the smell of rain. The ribbon matched.

You looked for a price tag and found none, but folded away at the bottom of the box was a hand written receipt. You paled at the figure displayed on it.

-Gojo, I can’t possibly accept this.

Don’t be stupid. No one would believe I was serious about a woman unless I was positively spoiling her rotten. s’not like it broke the bank!

-Forget the first-grade rec

-Pay my bills

Too late! Negotiations are closed :)

-So what the hell am I doing at this dinner?

Eating Duh and being seen with yours truly easy peasy right?

You sipped your coffee, keeping the mug well away from the dress. It was certainly nicer than anything you had ever owned in— well. Ever. It was hard to argue that there were clearly going to be some additional perks to this arrangement you hadn’t previously thought of.

Plus we gotta go over some ground rules

-Thought you said negotiations were closed

-This mean we can revisit my bills?

g2g

Students need me!

Ttyl babe

The ease in which that man showered you so soon with endearments was nauseating. Had he ever even had a girlfriend before? Or just those usual moon-eyed women who fawned and petted him?

And now everyone was gonna think you were one of those girls. You drank your coffee faster, relishing in the way it burned down your throat and overpowered the bad taste in your mouth.

“First-grade… first-grade. Remember the first-grade.”

And training. You’d squeeze every possible benefit from this arrangement out that you could. Sorcerers worked in teams, but at the end of the day, it was every man and woman for themselves.

Let them think what they want when you were seen tonight. You would come out on top.

***

The day passed quickly and you found yourself standing in front of the hotel mirror, twisting back and forth to get a feel for the movement of the dress— and half practicing staying upright in the heels that had arrived not even a moment later.

They were high enough to be appealing, but low enough to keep you from falling over on your face. Gojo had texted an explanation that he figured you were out of practice in wearing anything other than sneakers and combat boots and to consider them training wheels.

You’d wanted, once again, to punch him in the face.

The kind of girl he liked was a stilettos kinda girl, you guessed, huffing to yourself as you sat down and twirled one of your ankles, stretching the muscle. Even the low heels were not entirely comfortable, but you’d manage.

Checking your makeup one last time, you picked up your own worn purse and slung it over your shoulder. Women who wore these kind of dresses and came in on the arm’s of other men and women like Gojo never had anything more than the smallest clutch— but you weren’t those women.

You made your way down to the lobby and were surprised to find a chauffeur waiting outside with a very very sleek European car of some kind. You weren’t great about those kinds of things, only noting the seats were made with soft black leather and there was even a divider built in like in a limo to give the passengers privacy.

The chauffeur ushered you into the empty car and you sat back with a sigh as silently he delivered you to the next destination. You had, in some small place, hoped Gojo would already be present.

Why he felt the need for such spectacle was beyond you, but maybe this was what was expected of a clan family son when he courted a young woman. It felt— weird. Nice, but weird. The drive was not overly long, the car coming to stop.

You knew this restaurant. Some fancy French-Japanese fusion place that charged a hundred dollars for a single plate with a broiled pear covered in wasabi or some weird shit. Already you felt your stomach churning with anxiety and encroaching regret.

This was gonna suck.

This was gonna suck so bad.

The chauffeur opened the door and you barely managed not to wobble on the pavement. Feeling stilted and exposed as other guests and couples regarded you with open curiosity and veiled judgment.

Clearly they were used to seeing the same people come and go from this restaurant and you were not one of them.

You clutched your bag tighter to your arm, hand reaching inside instinctively to find your phone and text Gojo you were out. This was over. Find someone else— when your surname was shouted from the door.

All eyes turned as if in sync to Gojo, wearing simple trousers and a white shirt tucked in. He didn’t even have a tie or a jacket, his dark glasses obscuring his eyes even as he looked right at you.

A few people tsked their disapproval, but they may as well have been ghosts for all the attention Gojo paid them. When you didn’t immediately make your way over to him, Gojo shoved his hands into his pockets and strode over to meet you.

He grinned, the lowering of his chin and the slow rise back up an obvious indicator he was sizing you up and didn’t care if you knew.

He whistled.

“Ow, ow!”

“Shut it— you know this dress could cover my rent for half a year?! And these shoes! I could buy a used car with this ensemble.”

“You even drive?”

“Not the point.”

He laughed again, loud and careless.

“Figured since you were dawdling you might need an arm to lean on.” Gojo said, offering your his elbow without removing his hands from his pockets, “Or perhaps…”

He feigned a gasp, “Are you feeling shy?”

“I’m leaving.” you deadpanned, managing half a turn before his hand was on your waist, turning you back. He took your hand, the feeling of his palm on your side still burned into your skin as he hooked your arm in his own.

You allowed it, leaning on him only a little. He looked pleased, smugly so, as he led you inside and to a table that was already set for two.

There was a wine glass sitting by your own plate. The one by Gojo’s was turned upside down and set to the side… a can of soda sitting, bright and out of place, in its spot.

“… where did you even get that.”

“Vending machine.” Gojo said simply and even kicked your chair out a little for you to take a seat. How flattering.

“Wine is for you, if you want it. Figured it might help take the edge off.”

You rolled your eyes, not bothering to wait for the server to return and simply tipping the bottle of red into your own glass.

“What about you?”

“I don’t drink.” He said, cracking the tab on his soda with a loud pop. Several eyes filtered your way, whispers behind hands and napkins as Gojo all but drained the can in one gulp.

“So— ground rules?” you said, unfolding a cloth napkin and settling it in a half folded triangle across your lap the way you saw other women doing.

“Straight in, huh? Alright. Terms.” Gojo lifted one finger, “As already discussed, you and I will be ‘courting’— dating. Whatever the fuck. I’ll take care of arranging the dates, you show up, act sufficiently smitten and in about a year give or take, we break up.”

Gojo lifted a second finger, “Two. In exchange, I have two first grade sorcerers who will back your promotion. And, as requested—“ Gojo’s voice dropped a fraction, almost grumpily, “—you’ll come with me on my missions for your first semi-grade probation.”

“Now ground rules. At any point either of us wants out, it’s done. No questions asked. But don’t think that means you get to ditch and just keep that first grade appointment. I’ll make sure you end up right back at a grade two.”

You sipped your wine, giving your mouth something to do than form some very choice words at that moment. Gojo noticed, his smile almost a snarl, but the expression quickly vanished. You had a funny feeling trying to hoodwink or swindle him would end very poorly for anyone.

“And when you develop feelings for me—“

“If.” You amended quickly, but Gojo ignored you.

“—when you develop feelings for me. You have to tell me and again, the engagement is over. You can keep your rank. No harm no foul. I can hardly blame you for falling for me.” Gojo said with a wistful sigh. You were grateful for the arrival of the first course, forcing you both to fall silent for a moment until they departed.

You had no idea what was on the plate. Some kind of salad? It was hardly a mouthful. Gojo didn’t even touch his silverware and feeling less than impressed with the cuisine, you didn’t either.

You drank your wine.

“Barring sickness or injury you are required to appear for every date I set. Including the ones where you have to meet other members of the main family.”

You frowned, but didn’t object.

“Wait— what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Is the engagement off when you develop feelings for me?” You said lightly, trying to play off your smile as wistful.

Gojo scoffed, his reaction almost enough to hurt your feelings… just a little bit.

“Non-issue. I don’t do feelings.”

“God, you sound like a fuck boy.” The words came out before you could stop yourself, the last syllable off your tongue right at the moment the server had returned to reclaim your plates. An eyebrow was raised and you hid your face down with a flustered cough.

By the time you looked back up, you got the joy of seeing Gojo staring at you from over his glasses, a broad and deeply amused grin on his face.

“Not non-issue. If I get the feelings rule you get the feelings rule. End discussion.”

Gojo shrugged, again not touching the newest course which was, to your extreme annoyance, some kind of grilled pear.

“You should slow down.” He warned in a sing song voice as you poured another glass.

“I’m not a baby— okay. So we got terms, we got ground rules. Anything else?”

“You can’t refuse my gifts.”

Your eyes narrowed sharply and he simply smiled and hummed with a shrug.

“It’s for appearances! Oh. Speaking of appearances—“ Gojo sat up, fishing something from his back pocket and sitting it on the table. You stared at the simple black box, fearing a vein might burst in your forehead at any moment.

“What is that.” You stated more than asked.

“Open it.” Gojo said, his voice light and encouraging as he nudged the box closer, “Come on, open it. Open it. You know you wanna, sweetie, light of my life, fire of my lo—“

You snatched the box up if only to stop him from finishing that sentence.

You swallowed hard, the sounds of the room fading out as you flipped open the box and found, sitting upon a small satin pillow— a… key?

You lifted it from the box, noting it even had a little custom keychain made to look like a white cat with a tiny blindfold.

“It’s to my apartment!” Gojo announced with a giddy laugh, clasping his hands together in a way that was entirely un-adult like.

“… I have my own place. Thank you.”

“In Kyoto. This is here, in Tokyo. Where you will need to stay for this all to work, remember?”

“Where will you stay?” You asked dryly, vaguely hoping his answer would be something other than what it was no doubt going to be.

“Very funny. You’ll have your own room—if you want it.”

“Why—“ your voice nearly broke and you had to take a moment to clear it, “Why uh— why wouldn’t I be wanting my own room?”

“Feelings are off limits, naturally. But if you want to take me up again on that offer from back in the day…”

The surge of cursed energy that rippled off of you was so strong Gojo nearly toppled backwards, his laugh gaining a somewhat nervous lift to it if only for just a moment.

“I’ll have my own room. My own locked room.” You bit out, feeling your face flushing hot and hating every second Gojo seemed to be enjoying your utter mortification, “Unless that is a problem.”

“Nope. Not at all. Probably for the best ultimately, I’ve been told I have a bad habit of dickmatizing folks.”

“… I’m sorry, you what.”

“Dickmatizing! Ya know. Like hypnotizing but with—“

“I got it!” You groaned, pressing your face into your hand. When did it get so damn hot in here? You snatched up your wine glass and finished off the contents, feeling even hotter.

“Is that all?”

“Unless anything comes to your mind, then yep.” Gojo finished, ignoring yet another course. You were almost tempted. The dish was some kind of meat, but the sauce drenched over it smelt sharply of something bitter and sour at the same time. You stomach recoiled at the thought and yet rumbled in protest to its growing hunger.

“So what do you think?”

“You’re disgusting?” you said flatly.

“I meant about the deal.”

You glowered openly at him. It was going to take a lot of practice to turn that deprecating expression you felt naturally pull unto your face at his sight into something loving and tender… but for first-grade ranking? For lessons on your Limitless? Fuck. Fuck you’d do it.

You poured the remainder of the bottle into your glass and polished it off in one shot.

“I accept.”

Gojo clapped his hands together, “Excellent! Now let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Huh?” You barely managed to get the questioning sound out before Gojo was up and out of his chair. You scrambled up, head rushing with the wine and the weirdness of this entire conversation. By the time you managed to catch up with him, he snaked out his arm and wrapped it around your waist, pulling you flush and warm against his side.

You about threw him across the room, but your attempts at a grapple were thwarted by the sudden thrumming of the familiar Neutral Limitless ability, stalling your moments to such a small speed you felt suddenly frozen.

The impulse to toss him passed and instead you let him escort you outside where the car was still waiting.

“Take us to the place, ya know the one.” Gojo said to the driver and in a surprising show of gallantry, actually held the door open for you to get in first.

“And open the back window. If she throws up, I’d rather it be on the pavement.”

You elbowed him in the chest— accidentally of course.

***

The car drive was a bit longer, taking you away from the glitz and glamor of this side of Tokyo and to what looked arguably as one of the most hole-in-the-wall noodle joints you had ever seen. The street kitchen was small, the counter open outside with a few bar stools. The smells of teriyaki and spices and cooking oils were heavy in the air and made your mouth water.

Gojo perched on one of the stools and you came to sit alongside him, watching as he ripped open a set of chopsticks and rubbed the splinters off.

He ordered quickly—yakisoba and yakitori. Along with several packages of mochi they kept behind the counter in the same kinda plastic bags you’d find at a convenience store.

Gojo had been right— you should have slowed down. The world had a light haze to it… a slight tilting. His hand on your back felt massive and overly warm as he guided you back to sitting straight.

“Eat, ya lush.” He ordered, piling noodles and chicken unto a smaller empty plate for you from his own, “C’mon.”

Gojo popped one of the mochi bags and dumped the sticky sweet confection right on top of your yakisoba. You grimaced, picking the sweet off and trying to wipe some of the sauce from it before you took a generous bite.

The food was greasy and delicious and abundant and cheap and your mouth was in heaven. Even having not used your Limitless since yesterday, every taste still felt heightened. Maybe it was the way your cursed powers tried to compensate from the wine, but everything somehow was more delicious.

You attempted to snag another piece of yakitori from Gojo’s plate, only to have your chopsticks blocked with a clack.

“Ah ah ah— hands off.”

“What’s yours is mine, right?” You chided, only to be dodged again in a movement faster than your eyes could perceive. Did he just use his Limitless to counter you? Feeling emboldened, you activated your own, the faint pulse of the energy so close together giving you the sort of deflecting feeling one experiences when holding two sides of the same magnet near together.

Repelling, shifting. Trying to shove the energy into a way that the two forces would collide rather than deflect.

You were concentrating fully. The minuscule movements invisible to even your eyes, but the feeling was there. A sort of blindsight where you didn’t need the Six Eyes to tell you what was happening— but it would have definitely helped. You flicked a glance up and lost your control, your chopsticks shooting away and nearly cracking one in two.

Gojo chuckled. It was the expression on his face that had distracted you. His eyelids were half dropped, his smile soft as he readied himself to deflect you again. Your energy was no match for his… but it matched. It was made of the same stuff. Controlled the same way. He could see, with the sharp clarity of his Six Eyes, every tiny precise movement you made with your cursed energy. A mirror of his own abilities in miniature.

He was playing with you. And all the sudden you felt as if a small knot in your chest had shaken free, the coil coming undone.

Was there anyone else on this Earth you could do such a thing with?

Feeling strange and suddenly shy, you drew your energy back in and refocused on eating from your own plate, grumbling at your loss.

A second later, Gojo’s chopsticks moved over your plate, dropping another helping of noodles in.

A small concession. A victory in it's own right, even if it had not won the yakitori.

“Sober up, will ya? But don’t eat too fast. I’m not cleaning up vomit, no way, no how.”

“You’re always so vulgar.” you murmured, speaking around a mouthful of noodles and mochi. Gojo turned and stuck his tongue out at you. A confirmation or a reprisal, you couldn’t be sure.

But regardless, it did something to you he had never managed to do before.

It made you laugh.

[shoutaaizawas]

hii :) can i request shoto with either a college au or fake dating au with the prompt “kiss me again” FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF (nfsw if it flows and ONLY if you want) please

thank you for the request! i always forget how much i like writing todoroki. im sorry but i don’t do nsfw but please take my offering of a kissing scene haha

↳ todoroki shoto x reader → ❝all-nighter❞

event: au!prompts summary: you never expected to become friends with shoto todoroki but when you need to share a book for a project due in the morning you end up bonding. word count: 1,939 tags/warnings: fluff, incident with a creepy guy at a party, comfort, first kiss a/n: i don’t know what college is like bear with me. thanks to @lilli-chae for the college insight. also im giving myself a reward for writing and posting before ten at night lol

Todoroki Shoto was the last person you ever expected to befriend. He was a rich boy from a rich family and those were people you usually tried to steer clear of. He was always silent, if someone asked you what he sounded like you wouldn’t be able to answer them. And he always stared, it wasn’t in a creepy way like some guys but it still unsettled you. You had a few classes with him but had only heard a few words from him.

The first time you ran into him he was lost on campus. It was oddly endearing, the sight of him standing there looking around confused. You asked him where he was going and it happened to be the same class as you. He hadn’t said much except for a ‘thank you’ once you reached the class.

It wasn’t until one night at the library that you started to see him differently. You had a project due the next day. Had you received it weeks ago? Yes, but in your defense, you had a lot of other projects. Okay, maybe you had procrastinated too much. It was late and you needed a specific textbook for the assignment. With your ice coffee in hand, you made your way to the library ready to pull an all-nighter.

As you reached for the book you were already so exhausted you hadn’t realized that someone else was reaching for it at the same time.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You said looking up only to see Todoroki.

“Sorry.” He said, looking sheepish.

“I’ll grab another copy-” As you looked at the shelf you realized there was only one. “Oh.”

“My project is due tomorrow, otherwise I would offer to use it after you.” He said.

“Mine too.” You said. “We could share it if you don’t mind.”

“That seems like the best option.” He agreed.

The two of you set up at a table big enough for both of you to spread out. It turns out you had the same topic for the same class.

“So do you procrastinate a lot too?” You said trying to break the ice with some humor.

“Not normally.” He said but didn’t elaborate.

“I wish I could say the same but this happens to me more than I’d like to admit.” You said. “You can use it first, I have to get it started before I need the information.”

Shoto nodded and took the book before getting to work.

It was surprising how likable Shoto was once he opened up. He was a bit stiff and awkward but he was really funny and very considerate. You felt bad judging him on his family status. He was nothing like the rich brats you had encountered in the past.

The two of you would take breaks, you would offer him snacks, and most likely due to the sleep exhaustion, you shared a lot of personal stories. His family was something else. The more you got to know him all the pieces of who he was fit together.

The last thing you expected was to wake up with your head on his shoulder in the library the next morning.

“Shoto.” You said nudging him awake. You looked at your phone, you had less than ten minutes to get to class for your presentations. “Wake up we have to hurry.” You said.

Shoto’s different colored eyes opened and looked at you in confusion before he realizes where he was.

The two of you quickly scrambled to pick up all of your stuff and run to class. Thankfully everything had been pretty much done before you fell asleep but you were upset you wouldn’t be able to grab a coffee to wake you up before class.

Since that night you considered Shoto a friend. You would study together sometimes and grab a coffee or lunch between classes. You found yourself confiding in him and he did the same with you.

“When did you and our school’s prettiest boy become best friends?” Your friend Mina asked.

“I think best friend is a bit strong, we just barely started hanging out.” You said.

“Well, best friend was me going easy on the teasing. The real question is when did you capture his icy heart?” Mina teased.

“Wow, okay. There has been no capturing of icy hearts.” You defended as your face heated up. Sure, Shoto was handsome and you liked his personality a lot but that didn’t mean you had a crush on him and you knew there was no way he would have a crush on you.

“Have you seen the way he looks at you?” She questioned.

“Yeah, he looks at me like he does everyone else.” You said.

“If that’s what you want to tell yourself,” Mina said throwing her hands up.

“It is what I’ll be telling myself.”

You did your best to push Mina’s words away but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t try to sneak glances at the way Shoto looked at you. Was his gaze softer when he looked at you? It had to just be your mind making it up.

It was a Friday night and that meant parties. Normally you were more of a stay at home and play video games and eat snacks kind of person but your friends wanted to go out and it had been a while so you agreed.

You ended up at a party on campus, it felt like almost everyone from school was there. You found yourself looking for one person in particular but you couldn’t spot him. Your heart sank a little bit, one of your motivations for going out was the hope that you would see Shoto.

You hadn’t meant to drink that much, you really didn’t have that many drinks but your tolerance wasn’t the greatest. You were having a good time, dancing with your friends. That was until some guy grabbed at you. Instinctually you hit him across the face gaining most people’s attention.

“Did he touch you?” A familiar voice said, your classmate Bakugou stood at your side in an instant with an intimidating glare. He was a bit over the top but underneath it all, he was a nice guy. Mina hung out with his group a lot and you had tagged along at times.

“Yeah.” You nodded. You didn’t have to say another word before Bakugou was dragging him out of the party, his friends Kirishima, Denki, and Sero following along. Mina rushed to your side pulling you out of the party in the opposite direction.

“Are you good?” She asked.

It was nice, the cool air of the night. Your head had been spinning but the ordeal had sobered you up a lot.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You told her.

“What happened?” A concerned voice interrupted. Shoto approached with concern on his face.

Mina explained what had happened and you saw an anger in Shoto you hadn’t seen before. He moved to the direction he assumed Bakugou had taken the man but you grabbed his arm.

“Can you get me out of here?” You asked him. You didn’t want him getting involved, this had been bad enough. You just wanted to pretend it hadn’t happened.

“Of course.” He said before looking to Mina. She nodded and Shoto placed his had between your shoulder blades and guided you away. “Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.” You answered.

The two of you ended up in a 24/7 diner not too far away. Sitting down in a booth under the fluorescent lights you already felt better just being in Shoto’s presence.

It was quiet. You ordered water and chicken strips. You weren’t sure what to say, you didn’t want to talk about what had happened and Shoto seemed upset.

“I should have been there sooner.” He finally said. “My father called me, held me up.”

Was he blaming himself for not being there?

“Shoto, it’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault. I’m just happy that I got to see you tonight and to be honest hanging out here is a lot better than at that loud house.”

Shoto sighed but his expression softened.

“I’m glad I’m getting to spend time with you too.” He said.

After that the mood was more relaxed, you talked about different things and laughed at Shoto’s jokes. Once you were done eating Shoto paid for your food, refusing to let you do so before he walked you back to the dorm you shared with Mina.  

“Do you want to stay for a bit?” You asked.

“Aren’t you tired?” He asked.

“I don’t want to be alone.” You admitted quietly.

Shoto walked in without a word. You sat on your bed opening up your laptop putting on something to watch before placing it on the table beside your bed. Shoto hesitantly joined you, sitting beside you leaving some space.

In retrospect you probably had a little leftover liquid courage from your drinks earlier when you scooted over closer to him, your leg pressed against his. Or maybe you just needed the comfort of having someone you trust close.

It was nice. The sound of Shoto’s soft breathes, the warmth that came from him, the way his arm brushed against yours. It was all comforting and helped the tenseness in your body melt away.

Before you could stop yourself you rested your head against his shoulder, you tensed for a moment waiting for a reaction but Shoto said nothing. A few moments later you were shocked when he took your hand in his softly. You couldn’t stop yourself from looking up at him. His soft gaze was already on you.

It felt unavoidable, unstoppable, the need to lean up and press your lips against his. At that moment you didn’t think of any consequences the action could have. It just felt right. Shoto didn’t pull back, rather he leaned forward meeting you halfway. His right hand cupped your cheek, you felt so small in his grip. His left hand moved to your waist pulling you closer.

After a moment you pulled back to take a breath.

“Kiss me again,” Shoto said. You smiled at him and leaned in again. You adjusted yourself so you could wrap your arms around him, holding him close. It felt unreal. How could things change so quickly in one moment? In one second Shoto was your friend who you may or may not have a crush on and in the next you were kissing him wondering how you could ever lie to yourself.

How could you not like Shoto? He was so good to you, so interesting in every way. Every day your thoughts drifted to him whether you tried to stop them or not. You couldn’t get him out of your head. When you saw a cute dog you thought ‘I bet Shoto would like to see this dog.’ When you ate at a new place you thought ‘I think Shoto would like the food here.’

How had you convinced yourself you didn’t like him?

“I really like you.” You said pulling back again but keeping your hold on each other.

“I really like you too.” He whispered against your lips, looking deeply into your eyes. “Go on a date with me. Please.”

“How can I say no?” You smiled before kissing him again.

“Hey, how are you doing?” Mina’s voice filled your dorm room as the door opened. You and Shoto froze as Mina stared. “Nevermind, looks like you’re doing great.” She said before shutting the door and leaving.

“I’m never gonna hear the end of it from her.” You sighed.

[farfromharry]

The one with the party | Peter’s girl

Summary: The night of Liz Allan’s infamous house party in the suburbs

Word count - 2564

Warnings - language, slight underage drinking i guess?

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The day of Liz’s party rolled around all too quickly. Mj felt as though she needed more time to prepare, she wanted to try and look cute for Peter, ignoring your reassurances that she always looked cute. Peter wanted to desperately impress Liz, and if he was going to have to pull the Spiderman card then, so what?

Ned was ready, he’d always heard about how cool Liz’s parties were but had never been invited, him and Peter being deemed nerds that obviously no one wanted to attend their house parties. You weren’t sure how you were doing. Part of you was excited to go and spend the night having fun with your friends, all dressed up and looking cute. But the other side of you felt nervous, nervous to see Peter in such a casual setting that you hadn’t seen him in before.

Of course you’d had your group study sessions, but then the main focus was science and now, the main focus was having fun.

Things for Peter and Ned felt a lot more rushed, and that freaked Peter out a considerable amount.

As disappointing as it was, the two had never actually been to a high school party, they’d only heard about them in the halls at school, or in classes where people were meant to be working. Peter and Ned had always been seen as the nerds of Midtown, so they didn’t really get invited to anything.

You had spent the last hour on the phone listening to Mj complain about how she would have to see Peter drooling over Liz the entire time, and Liz probably gushing over Peter for introducing her to Spiderman.

“Mj I just- can’t you forget about him, just for tonight?” you begged. You wanted to spend just one night where your head wasn’t filled with thoughts of Peter Parker, and if that’s all your best friend was talking about, that’s all you were guaranteed to think about.

Mj let out a groan of frustration, flopping down on her bed with her phone still pressed to her ear.

“That’s the thing,” she whined. You could practically hear the frustration in her voice now.

“I-I can’t, he’s always on my mind and I-“ you heard her take a deep breath, letting out a sad sigh. “I’m always thinking about him.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” you whispered. You didn’t mean to intentionally say it. Hell at first you hadn’t even realised you’d said something, at least not until Mj spoke up with some questions.

“Y/N, what did you just say?” She wasn’t sure she’d heard you right, but she also thought that you didn’t mean to say that out loud, and that was confirmed by the quiet gasp she heard from your end of the phone.

You laughed nervously, trying to cover up your mistake. “N-Nothing, what do you mean?”

The girl on the other end of the phone let out an excited squeal, one that almost deafened you it was so loud.

“Y/N, do you have a crush?” she asked. Your heart was racing and you were sure that if she could see you right now she’d be able to see just how flustered you are. You hadn’t actually admitted it to anyone, and you weren’t about to start now either.

“No, I don’t know what you mean,” you teased. Even if you weren’t going to explicitly come out and say out, you presumed she took your nerves as a yes, and she wouldn’t let it go until she found out who it was. But for the sake of your friendship, you weren’t going to reveal that information anytime soon. “Anyway,” you muttered, trying to quickly change the topic so you wouldn’t further embarrass yourself.

“You aren’t getting away from this that easily, miss.”

“What time should I pick you up?” you asked, avoiding her question. Mj let out a little laugh, rolling her eyes at your childish behaviour. She threw out a time and you were quick to agree, telling her you should go so you could get ready, even if part of it was so she couldn’t interrogate you any longer.

“Love you, bye,” you rambled, quickly ending the phone call before she got another word out. You took a deep breath, letting out a groan as your head lolled back against your chair.

You decided to distract yourself by getting ready, pulling out all the stops. Mj may not know who you were trying to impress, but you certainly did, and you wanted to feel amazing.

You took a long shower, letting the hot water calm you of any nerves you had about going tonight, washing them down the drains with any other negative thoughts.

After your shower you tried to pick out some clothes, a task which should not have been so difficult. You ended up getting stumped between two options, of which you sent both to Mj.

do we go 1 or 2?

definitely 2, you’d look hot as hell ;)

You replied with a quick thank you along with a blushing emoji, slipping on the pretty dress she’d picked out. As you looked it over in the mirror you were quite happy with her pick, deciding that she definitely had good taste, well when it came to outfits that weren’t hers.

Makeup didn’t go as smooth as you planned, not when you had your best friend texting you every five minutes asking you how to do a specific part of a makeup routine. You liked that she was trying but you still couldn’t help but laugh at how utterly clueless she was.

You eventually finished, deciding you were happy and now bubbling with excitement as you searched your room for the keys to your car.

You took a few deep breaths and flattened out your dress before you finally left the house. As soon as you were in your car you were sending Mj a text to tell her you were on your way and your night of fun was finally going to begin.

»»——⍟——««

“Are you ready to party?” she cheered, startling you in your seat for a second. You rolled your eyes before you let out a quiet giggle, nodding your head enthusiastically to match her energy.

She thankfully didn’t bring up the whole ‘crush’ situation from on the phone, clearly noting how stubborn you’d been about it earlier, and there was nothing Mj hated more than trying to get information out of you when you were feeling stubborn. So for now, she’d just have to accept your secret crush and leave herself pretty much dying to know.

The ride there was filled with a happy energy you hadn’t seen from your best friend in a while. You didn’t know where it came from but it made you warm inside to see.

She was straight to the drinks in the red solo cups as soon as you stepped inside the crowded house, barely even giving Liz a greeting before she was gone, leaving an Mj shaped puff of smoke in her absence.

“Sorry about her, she’s just excited to be here.” Liz told you it wasn’t a problem, inviting you inside so you could go and find the runaway brunette.

“What was that?” you scolded, bringing up where you’d specifically told her to at least pretend to be nice to the party’s host. She shrugged her shoulders, putting up an innocent façade that you could easily see through.

Mj took her opportunity to escape the conversation when she noticed your two other friends standing awkwardly in the corner.

She pointed them out to you, the two of you laughing at the uncomfortable body language they portrayed.

“Hey losers,” she called, catching Ned and Peter’s attention. You hit her arm lightly, quietly telling her to be nice to the two, oh so clearly out of place in a party scene, boys. You flashed them both your signature kind smile, your eyes lingering on Peter as he studied the room extra nervously, like more nervous than normal.

“Are you enjoying the party?” you asked. Ned nodded rapidly, elbowing Peter in the ribs rather harshly when he rudely didn’t respond. The boy in question winced, his hand coming up to soothe the spot Ned had hit him while they had a silent conversation with their eyes.

Peter eventually flashed you a tight lipped smile, his hand still clutching his aching ribs. “Great party, yeah.”

You mentally noted that he’d dressed up, and he looked good. Not that he didn’t look good normally, but you could see the effort he’d put in tonight, even if you could still see a slither of a cute science pun shirt underneath his flannel.

“Some people are playing truth or dare, me and Y/N are gonna go play,” she explained. “Do either of you want to join?”

You’d think someone was out to get the brunette with the way Peter’s head was whipping in all directions, your heart sank when you realised he was probably searching for Liz, sending Mj a secret look.

“I-I can’t, we’re actually meeting someone here soon.” You and Mj had the exact same reaction, nodding at the two boys who were acting very suspicious, and it wasn't just their normal, painfully awkward selves.

“Spiderman, right?” Mj asked, watching as almost all colour drained from Peter’s face, leaving him a ghostly pale.

“Uh, y-yeah, he said he’d come,” he muttered, fiddling with the hem of his flannel shirt. You watched the way Peter tried to convince an unimpressed Mj that nothing suspicious was happening. Even though the girl still didn’t believe him by the time she was dragging you away from the conversation.

“Bye guys,” you whispered, sending them both a polite wave.

Once Peter was sure you were both out of earshot, he turned to Ned in a panic.

“Do you think they know, Mj seemed like she knew-“ he rambled, having to be cut off by his best friend before he got too ahead of himself.

“No one knows, calm down, I doubt Mj would figure it out,” Ned reassured, patting his friend's shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah you’re right,” he mumbled, nodding his head. Peter took another look around and spotted Liz heading straight towards them, his eyes widening. She flashed the two males a sweet smile, one that would’ve had Peter’s knees buckling if it wasn’t for the super strength.

“H-Hi Liz.” His face was decorated with a dopey smile, one that you could find cute if Liz wasn’t already feeling bad for inviting him just for Spidey.

“Hey Peter, Ned,” she greeted. “Is um, is he coming?”

Peter visually deflated, his smile dropping as the corners of his lips curled down into a rather pitiful looking frown. He nervously pulled his phone out of his back pocket, motioning to it with a subtle head now.

“Yeah, I’ll just um, check in,” he murmured. Liz nodded, sending him a small sympathetic smile as she walked away. Ned turned to his best friend with another pity smile, one that made Peter outwardly groan.

“That was sad, right, it wasn’t just me?”

“Yeah, it was pretty sad.”

Peter ran over the whole scenario in his mind again, the words ‘Liz only invited you for Spiderman’ practically screaming at him. He shouldn’t even be here right now, and he wouldn’t be if it wasn’t for Ned spilling his secret to impress Liz on his behalf.

“I should go change, cover for me?” he asked. Ned nodded, the two doing their handshake before Peter snuck out of the house.

Since the spider bite, roofs had become one of his favourite places, and with the amount of times he’d been on them without a mask covering his face, he was surprised he hadn’t gotten caught.

Peter spent the next ten or so minutes trying to psych himself up to head back inside. The boy was stuck trying different lines and different accents, practicing all the different ways he could do this, but they all sounded dumb and he was getting annoyed.

Peter jolted at the sudden deafening roar from the mysterious blast behind him, his head whipping around to stare in shock at the strange blue cloud rising up from the ground a few miles away. His heart began racing and he was torn.

Be made a fool of by not having Spiderman show up to the party, or let those weapons dealers get away again.

Meanwhile you were trying to pry a tipsy Mj off of your side. “I’ll be right back,” she groaned, trying to keep you down on the floor next to her with her death grip on your arm, drunk Mj was a nightmare.

“I’m getting a drink M, i’ll come straight back.”

She stubbornly let go of you, her pouty face following you as you left the room with an amused giggle.

The drinks were all the way in the kitchen, and it was pretty sparse in there by now, most people were either in the backyard or doing, you don’t even wanna know what, in the many guest rooms in Liz’s huge house.

You took a moment to take in the relatively quiet atmosphere, leaning against the windows of the kitchen to look out over the part of the city that was visible.

It always looked beautiful all lit up at night, no matter what kind of area you were looking from.

What you didn’t expect to see however, was a red and blue suited hero sitting on a rooftop across from the house.

Your heartbeat quickened, glancing around to see if anyone was there, which thankfully they weren’t. When you’d heard Peter telling Liz about Spiderman in gym class, you didn’t expect him to be telling the truth. Partly because it was Peter, and partly because he’d never mentioned anything to you or Mj, which was kind of annoying.

When you looked closer you noticed a brown, fluffy head of hair. He wasn’t wearing his mask. He was close enough that if you were to squint you could just make out his features and- it was Peter.

Your eyebrows furrowed, staring through the glass like a maniac as you tried to tell if your mind was just playing tricks on you, but no, that was definitely one hundred percent Peter Benjamin Parker.

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped, your palms growing sweaty when you noticed his head turning in your direction. You didn’t know whether to stay still or run away so he didn’t see you, but your feet had apparently made up your mind when you stayed rooted to the spot.

Peter didn’t expect to meet your wide eyes through the window of Liz’s kitchen either, but honestly he probably should’ve hidden himself better. Here he was on an open rooftop in his suit, without his mask covering his face, showing his identity to anyone that noticed.

He didn’t have time to try and signal for you not to freak out before you were already running away, out of his sight. His heart pounded against his chest so hard he could hear it in his ears. He was torn, on the one hand he needed to check out what that blast was down the street, but on the other, you could be telling everyone who Spiderman was right now.

Peter was fucked.

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peter’s girl taglist → @sunsetholland @captainamirica @tomsirishgirlx @givebuckyhisplumsnow @lou-la-lou @slutforsr @tayyx @gog0juice @minejungwoo @creatorofthegalaxy @annathesillyfriend @paninipress @bvttercupbby

[chrisevansgoodgirl]

give me all your poison, i’m immune to it.

summary: laurie finally fucking leaves.

warnings: cheating, age gap, smut. actual smut. all that usual daddy stuff.

word count: about 12,200

pairing: andy barber  x reader

part 1 x part 2 x

It wasn’t like you could blame Laurie. She didn’t know that you were fucking toys on a webcam, making videos of your fingers buried in your cunt, and taking pictures dressed or undressed for her husband. She was innocent. She thought that you were just the babysitter and that her husband was still the loving, faithful man who would never do anything remotely distrustful.

Obviously, she was wrong, dead wrong, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it. Not given your current location. You just had to start thinking before you spoke. Admittedly, you normally didn’t talk to Laurie about your homework but sometimes, the guilt of being the worst person on the planet caused you to overcompensate. Your mouth moved, without your permission, at times.

You’d merely told her that you needed to interview someone in the criminal justice field for your English class. Stupidly—because you were stupid, that much was clear—you hadn’t anticipated that she would suggest Andy. Everyone was a lawyer in Salem, your grand plan had been to just ask your dad. Or to go out into the middle of the street and yell for one. It had never crossed your mind to ask Andy.

Before you could decline, she had already picked up her phone and dialed his number.  Now, being involved with Andy was a tight rope walk. Had you claimed that you already had someone, she would have asked who, he would have then wondered the same thing. If you had to give a name, you would have only been able to give your boyfriend’s father. Andy would have found a way to see you in person, just to smack your ass bright red.

You were stuck. He was stuck, Laurie didn’t exactly give him the option of saying no. You weren’t trying to claim that either of you were passive victims in any of this. You were both equally-at-fault villains. You teased and he took the bait, he teased and you took the bait. It was never a question of whether one of you were going to be inappropriate, it was merely a matter of how and when.

In short, you were trying to say that yes, you were ashamed, but you were also an opportunist. That night, when he texted you, you dove straight into a whole act of innocence. You promised this was not your goal and that it was fine if he wanted to cancel on you. You played the boyfriend’s father card and he ignored that suggestion in favor of telling you when you be in his office and gave you some guidance on what he wanted to see you wearing.

He adored you in pink, that much remained and probably always would. So, on the day of the interview, you had breakfast plans with your boyfriend, and after confirming to him you would be there, everything kind of fell into place in your mind. Since Andy didn’t explicitly express his displeasure at the thought of you spending time with your father’s boyfriend, you could pretend to be clueless about it.

Which was what you did. You had breakfast with your boyfriend and let his father drive you to the office. They were coworkers, why would you suspect that they didn’t get along? Honestly, Andy could pin nothing on you, and you knew that would be the most frustrating aspect for him.

On top of that, you were in the car with the man he certainly couldn’t stand in a tiny, pink plaid skirt. You’d draped your bag and jacket over your legs, but Andy didn’t need to know that. All Andy needed to do was get possessive.

It had happened perfectly. You showed up at the same time as him, but he couldn’t say anything. He couldn’t throw a fit that you were in another man’s car, he had to wait. Until that hour that he had promised you a little before 10.

Your chauffeur of the day was a huge gossip, always had been. You certainly weren’t bored all morning waiting for Andy to be available to you. By the time he had texted you, you were completely caught up on all the office drama, a few things you were going to be bringing up to Andy, if only to play jealous and maybe get a little something out of it.

Go wait for me in my office. Now.

Great, you’d already had some office fantasies, this certainly wasn’t going to help.

You were sat in the chair in front of his desk, shifting uncomfortably. You hadn’t done a lot of sitting earlier, given your specific circumstances—the plug in your asshole and the vibrator in your pussy.

When he walked in, he didn’t look at you. He began removing his jacket and loosening his tie. All you could do was watch his arms and hands moving as he made his way to his chair.

You were so happy to see him, you didn’t notice how cold he was being—but you had been told about Andy’s coldness, by your gossiping mate, several times he’d said Andy was barely human. Maybe a robot. You hadn’t thought anything of it because he was just so perfect with you. “How was this morning? Did you win?”

He eyed you as he sat down across from you, rolling his sleeves up toward his elbows. “I only have an hour.”

He had told you that and it wasn’t like you had forgotten, but that was his clear way of telling you he didn’t want to talk about anything but the assignment. Then why were you filled with sex toys?

You looked down at your notebook. “Yeah, um—”

“What is this assignment for?”

You looked up but turned right back down when you saw how he was staring at you. Andy was an intense man, it was probably why you were so attracted to him, but that didn’t mean you weren’t a little scared of him. “We’re reading this book about a lawyer who’s, like, a villain, essentially, I guess, and so we’re talking to people who are what we would think of as, like, heroes…because we’re supposed to understand that not all villains start as villains and sometimes they don’t want different things than good people.”

He hummed.

You felt like you sounded like an idiot—did any of that make sense? You gently cleared your throat and turned down to the list of questions again. “Did you always want to be a lawyer?”

“No.”

Was he going to give more than just one word? After ten seconds, you figured not. You knew then that you were never going to tell Laurie anything ever again. “What else did you want to be?”

He sighed in thought. “There was a firefighter, a doctor, a photographer for a few minutes.”

“And history teacher,” you recalled from your car conversations. Oh, simpler times. “Do you like being a lawyer?”

“Mostly.”

About several questions and just as many short replies later, you were thinking maybe it was time to cut the interview. You could claim that you had everything you needed and just try to forget this whole tense exchange—but see, he must have sensed that you were about to pull away.

With a soft sigh, you set your pen back in your bag. “I think—”

“Take off your panties.”

You instantly looked at him, confused.

“Take them off,” he repeated.

Well, this wasn’t unexpected. You leaned over to set all your things on the floor next to your feet. As you sat back, you took one look back at the door.

“I locked it.”

You didn’t stand, worried the toys would move if you did—you were so wet because even though he was being a complete jerk, his voice still did awful things to you. You leaned back in the chair, legs spreading as you pulled your panties down.

His eyes trailed down your legs and he held his hand out.

You squirmed a little before you leaned forward and handed him your underwear. Your heart stopped when he brought them up to his nose, inhaling deeply. You had been going crazy thinking about him eating you out lately—it was such an intense craving, sometimes you debated calling him and talking him into another car meetup.

He brought them down below his desk, you assumed to hide them away in his pocket. “We don’t have that much longer to wait.”

Two and a half weeks. “Yeah…but still too long.”

“It is,” he agreed. “But I won’t fuck you here, not the first time, at least.”

“Then where?” you quizzed. Certainly not his bed that he shared with his wife.

Instead of answering, he looked at his cellphone off to his side. “Open your legs and pull up your skirt.”

You did so, patiently waiting as he tapped the screen on his phone. You remembered getting these in the mail. Your parents were starting to get suspicious of all the things you were receiving but the packages never had his name on them and to find out anything, they would need to parent. So, overall, weren’t worried.

“Have those toys been there all morning?”

“Yes.”

“Since our FaceTime this morning when you let me see you put them in?”

“That’s what I said.”

“So, you didn’t take them out to fuck your boyfriend?”

You scoffed. “You jealous, daddy?”

“Once you’re on my cock, you’re never going anywhere else, so no, I’m not jealous. I just want to know.”

“Nope. Didn’t fuck him. Just didn’t want to drive myself over here.” You shrugged. “Not a big deal, I still hang out with him. He’s still my boyfriend.”

“Change that,” he said, but you could tell he didn’t mean it.

You snorted. “Leave your fucking wife.”

He arched an eyebrow at you. “I don’t fuck my wife.”

You shrugged. “I don’t fuck my boyfriend…often.”

“You don’t think he’s gonna notice that your pussy is getting harder and harder to fill and satisfy?”

You shrugged.

“How does he fuck you?”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I wanna know. Start from the beginning. Does he ask you? Does he tell you?”

You averted your gaze to the desk between you and stopped to think about it. “I guess…he just touches me.”

“And how does he touch you?”

“Usually my waist or my hips. He kisses me, and sometimes he’ll hug me, walk me to the bed.”

“And does he undress you?”

“I think I mostly undress myself. I don’t care to let him do it.”

“Then?”

Your hand came up to your necklace. It was this small chain with a star charm—Andy had given it to you a while back. It had become a nervous habit of yours to toy with it. “Um…I don’t know. If I’m not wet enough, he watches me finger myself until I am.”

“Why doesn’t he do it?”

You shrugged. “I just never ask him to.”

“Why not? You have no problems telling me what you want.”

“Because I know you’ll make it feel good. He tried once…he just wasn’t…that good. He fucking scratched me.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, baby girl, that’s what happens when you fuck boys.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, you’ve mentioned that once or twice.” A million times by now, you were sure.

“Does he ever go down on you?”

“He’s tried…I just…don’t like it.”

“Yeah? You were nearly crying last night, telling me you can’t wait for me to eat your pussy. You’ve been obsessed with it for nearly the past two weeks.”

“I don’t like him to do it,” you clarified. “I don’t trust him a lot.”

“You trust me?”

He sounded so surprised, you finally looked at him. His eyes were on your face, so stormy and blue. You shrugged and muttered, “yeah.” Why else would you be doing this?

“Then?” he pressed.

You looked away again, too embarrassed to say any of this and look him in the eye. “Um, then he fucks me.”

“Just like that?”

“Yeah. Mostly, yeah.”

“Doesn’t make you beg for it?”

“No,” you snorted, “because I wouldn’t beg him.”

“Good; reserve that pathetic behavior.”

“All for you, daddy,” you promised, smirking.

“What else is for me, angel?”

You thought for a moment. “He doesn’t touch my ass.”

“You’ve never been fucked there?”

“Nope.”

He shifted, leaning further back in his chair. “Anything else?”

“I don’t suck his cock, I don’t ride him.”

“Is that so?”

“But I want to ride your cock, daddy. I want to right now.”

“I know, baby, I’ll let you one day.”

“What about today? Will you fuck my mouth?”

He sat up, trying to regain his composure as he cleared his throat. “Do you want me to?”

You nodded.

He stood and your eyes darted down to where his cock was, hard and so desperate for you. He made his way in front of you, setting his phone down once more.

You chanced a look at the screen. The two toys inside you were listed there on the menu screen of the app, ready to be turned on whenever he pleased. You looked up at him again.

“Does he make you come?”

“I fucking swear, Andy,” you sighed and rolled your eyes.

“What? You can ask me questions, but I can’t ask you questions?”

“He can, he’s capable…he doesn’t do so often.”

He nodded.

“Does your wife make you come?”

“I told you, we haven’t had sex in quite a while.”

“Since before this?”

He didn’t answer.

You nodded. “So, you’re a hypocrite.”

“And you’re being a brat, and you better watch yourself.” He started with his belt, but you kept your eyes on his. The zipper of his pants sounded and he reached in to pull out his cock. “Lean toward me and open your mouth.”

You did so, sure to keep your eyes on him. You didn’t flinch when you felt his tip against your tongue, and continued to hold his stare as he slid in.

His attention had moved to where his cock was, eyebrows pulled together, mouth dropped. His small, deep sounds were filling the room, making you so impossibly wet.

It was quickly too much for you to take and you were sure it wasn’t even half of him, but when you gagged after he touched the back of your throat, you opened your mouth again, wider. He looked impressed with your willingness, eagerness, and continued pulling out and pushing back in until your throat reacted around him over and over.

You saw that he reached off to the side where his phone was, but you still startled as you felt the toys vibrating inside you. Your eyes rolled back and you closed your lips around him, moaning.

That was when his hand found the back of your head. He just wanted to hold you where you were and let you get used to all the sensations.

The plug in your ass was at a much higher setting, Andy seemed to enjoy how sensitive you were there. The vibrator in your pussy had an extension that curved perfectly to touch your clit, it had been brushing against you just right all morning and you had been ready to explode if he wasn’t going to let you feel it.

He set the toys on lower settings so you could focus on him for a moment. When your eyes met his again, that was when he gently, slowly started to fuck your mouth. There was just something different about Andy’s cock. All those veins you could feel on your tongue, and he was so big and so hard, yet his skin was velvety smooth, you were consumed with thoughts of it inside you.

He tasted just the same as the others, but that was where the comparisons ended. Andy was not just a regular man. He was an important person, fucking your throat, completely in charge of you, your mouth, your body—and you would have it no other way. It made you feel important, that he had chosen you.

Your jaw was already sore, but you didn’t care. Your mouth felt stretched, your throat a little raw, but oh well. This man did not seem close and you weren’t going to do a single thing except sit there and take him. You would do this for the rest of the day if he wanted you to.

He played with the vibration settings then, searching for ways to make you moan around his cock. There was no pattern or method in the way he handled the toys, he was so caught up in his own pleasure that he couldn’t tease you even if he wanted.

You were nearly squirming out of the chair, whining, swallowing around him. When he knew you were coming, when your hips were moving, when your nails were sounding on the chair that you were gripping so tight, he pulled you down on his cock as far as you could go. This was how he silence the sounds frantically pouring out.

He wanted to savor this, he wanted to fuck your mouth until he was satisfied—and since you’d been teasing him for months and months, he had a lot of built-up frustration. He might have to keep you there all day, something he felt inclined to let you know. “Baby, you feel so damn good, I might need to stay in your mouth until my day is over.”

You were amused that he thought that you wouldn’t be into that. But of course, he had no idea how fucking beautiful you found him, and all the stupid shit you were willing to do for him. Not that you would be rushing to tell him. The way you looked at him, you could tell it gave him an inkling of an idea, because he turned from cocky to wrecked in a second.

“Are you wearing a bra?” That was the first time he pulled out completely, drool and his cum dripping down your chin. He began to pump his cock with a tight, fast fist.

“Yes.”

“Pull up your shirt,” he directed and you quickly did. “Pull down your bra.”

That was when you realized what he wanted. You hurriedly obliged, getting your bra as far out of the way as possible. Your breasts were exposed to him, nipples pebbling because it was so cold. You arched your chest up for him, silently begging for his cum.

He finished with a quiet groan, one hand holding him and the other gripping the desk, knuckles white, nails digging into the wood. His cum spilled out on your chest, he used his hold on himself to coat your nipples, and you shuddered at the feeling of his cock touching you there.

Breathless, he released his hold on himself and your eyes followed his cock. Even soft, he was so big. He leaned over and you sat back in the chair. He took the bra from your hands and set it back over your breasts.

He turned back to his phone and raised the vibration level again. Your body arched, your legs spread wide as he got on his knees before you. He grabbed your hips and pulled you to the edge of the chair.

“Like being covered in my cum?”

“Yes, daddy,” you whimpered. You did like it, how his cum was cooling against your skin, spread by the material of your bra, kept there but hidden, no one would ever know.

“Want me to come on you again?”

You nodded quickly.

“I need to see you finish. Then, I’m gonna eat your pussy until I’m hard again.”

“Daddy,” you whined. That would be no problem. The orgasms Andy gave you were always good but when he watched, they were a million times better. You got off on watching him watch you. You liked knowing that he liked seeing your body, hearing you cry out for him, that he was addicted to the ideas of touching you, smelling you, tasting you.

“Are you close, angel?”

You nodded. “Yes, daddy.”

He leaned over, kissing your mound, and you crumbled into a million pieces. You had to press your hand over your mouth, worried someone would hear you without his cock muffling you. He watched in awe, your face, your mouth, your shaking body. He turned down, suppressing a groan when he saw your pussy pulsing around the toy, full, satisfied, overstimulated.

He pulled out the toy in your pussy as soon as your body relaxed against the chair, but let you keep the plug. The next second, his mouth was pressed against you and you were whimpering and shuddering, hands grasping his hair as your hips rolled forward for more attention.

But he grabbed you and held you down, which took the toy vibrating in your ass almost too deep. He kissed up and down your soaking slit, licking his lips instead of you, a smug glint in his eyes. You ached with need, you just wanted to feel his tongue. Ever since you’d felt it in the car, you dreamed of it, fantasized, it was rarely off your mind.

“Daddy, please,” you whispered.

“Need my mouth?”

“Yes, daddy. Need your mouth and your tongue. Need you to eat my pussy so fucking bad.”

“When she’s gone, I’m gonna eat your pussy every night.”

You liked the sound of that, but you were confused. How was that going to happen?

He let the tip of his tongue slide down, teasing your entrance before he licked back up. He began kissing you again, smirking at the frustrated noise you tried to quiet by closing your mouth. He took his fingers and spread your pussy wide open. Eyes on yours, he flicked his tongue over your clit so fast that it took your breath away. He got you so close to that edge, your entire body trembling, your attempted breaths short and shaking, before he stopped.

“Daddy,” you gasped. Not this, not now. You couldn’t take Andy’s brand of teasing.

“We need to discuss something first, princess. I want you to stay at the house.”

“Are you fucking crazy?” It probably wouldn’t get you any points, in fact, it would probably irritate the hell out of him that you were speaking to him like that, but that was what came out. But that was all you could think.

“Probably.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know. That’s why I’m trying to get you to agree, while you’re not as stubborn, while you’re so distracted that you can’t think of consequences.”

“You’re an ass.”

“True, but I want to fuck you. I want to fall asleep next to you every night, buried in your pussy. Then, when we wake up, I want to fuck you again.”

“What about Jacob?”

“Guest room,” he explained.

It all made sense now. That was where he was intending to fuck you for the first time. You hummed, feigning insult. “I feel so special.”

“You should, I made the room up just for you.”

“You did?” you asked before you could talk to yourself about how dangerous that question was.

“Yes.”

You tried to ignore the butterflies that gave you, how your stomach was twisting, your heart was pounding, and your body abruptly felt hot. “Well, how can I say no to all that effort?”

“I suspect you will try to backtrack later,” he admitted.

He was probably right. “But since we already know that’s going to happen and you’re going to talk me out of it, why not just say yes now and let you make me come?”

“Good idea.”

You smiled a little. “Then my answer is yes.”

He didn’t say another word before he dove right back in. This time was different, there was more intent. He knew when to flick his tongue at your clit and when to run it through your folds, but more importantly, he knew just how to suck to make you see stars when you finished.

You were dizzy, breathless, and barely conscious when he stood up. His cock was hard again and you were once more ready for whatever he wanted from you. You sat up but stayed leaned on the chair, untrusting of your ability to stay upright on your own.

He stepped closer, hands grasping your hips to lift them from the chair. His cock was lined up with your pussy—as if he were going to fuck you, but you knew better—and your legs instinctively spread more. “Make me come, sweetheart.”

You set your hand over the head of his cock and pressed down until he was touching you, his fingers dug painfully into your skin. You wanted your arousal to wet his skin before you wrapped your hand around him and began pumping the length of his cock.

“Fuck, baby. You’re such a good girl, my fucking baby doll.”

Your eyes flit up to his. “You wanna come on my pussy, daddy?”

He stared down at you, body alarmingly tense. “I’d prefer to come inside your pussy, but I’ll settle this time.”

You moved faster, sensing both of you growing increasingly desperate. The noises coming from his open mouth were soft, low grunts and groans, but sometimes, these animalistic sounds that made you want to beg him to fuck you right there.

He must have seen that on your face because again, his hold on you tightened. “Don’t ask me to do that, I might not be able to stop myself.”

“What’s so bad about that?”

“Well, you’re not going to be able to walk when I’m done fucking you. You want your boyfriend’s dad to carry you out?”

You were unbothered by his joke, but still voiced your displeasure for it. “You’re sick.”

His eyes fell shut and his hips started to thrust forward into your hand, the head of his cock pressing against you so slightly every now and then. “And you are going to be the fucking death of me.”

You felt no need for further discussion, sensing that he was just about there. He pulled your hips closer as he was coming, jaw set to quiet his moan, eyes still shut tight. One last jerk of his hips and his cum was streaking across your skin. You were buzzing, still sensitive from his lips and tongue and beard and when his cum touched certain parts of you, you thought you might come again.

He finally opened his eyes, admiring how he left you painted and soaking wet. He gently set you back down on the chair, hands rubbing over where he had been holding you so tight. “Keep your legs open.”

You did so because you too wanted to stare just a little longer. You liked the way his cum was slowly dripping down your skin, teasing just like him. You felt him at your calves and turned down, finding him sliding your underwear back on. You happily angled your hips up for him, welcoming his method of keeping you covered in his cum.

As the material was settled over your ass, staring right at you, he gave your pussy one last kiss.

You shivered and he stood up, redressing himself.

He leaned over to where his phone was set and stopped the vibrating plug. “Did you get everything you needed from me?”

You snorted.

His eyebrow arched. “I was referring to your assignment.”

“Sure.”

He sighed, sitting across from you again. “Come on, I tried.”

You shrugged. “I said sure.”

“But it’s in your tone.”

“You’re not super talkative, not a big deal.”

He looked exhausted. “What else could you possibly want to know?”

You shook your head. “Nothing that needs to be included in my assignment.”

He scoffed, turning down. “Close your legs and pull your skirt down. I have to get back to work.”

You did as he ordered, trying to regain feeling that you hadn’t known you lost in your legs. You packed your things away and turned up to him, shooting him a curious look when you saw him watching you.

“Soon,” he asserted.

You tried not to smile but failed so terribly that even he had to smile. “Yes. Soon.”

“Is he taking you home or back to your boyfriend’s house?”

“His place, I think, yeah. Then I’m gonna walk.”

He hummed, pleased by the thought of you having to stay covered in him for so long. “Kiss him before you go home.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Andy.”

“You better, baby, I’ll know if you’re lying.”

“You’re sick.”

“Yeah, probably will be as long as you’re in my life.”

You knew that was true. “Back at you.”

He smirked. “Get outta here, call me when you’re in a bath.”

“You want me to wait until you’re home?”

He glanced at his phone and nodded. “I’ll be home early, around 4. Stay exactly the way you are until then. Understood?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“One last kiss, angel.”

You stood and excitedly leaned over his desk to kiss him. It was brief, mostly you pulled away in surprise at how wet his beard was. Scrunching your nose, you wiped your palms along your jaw.

He watched you, clearly amused.

You kissed the tip of his nose and without another word, practically pranced out of his office.

“You’ll call,” Laurie said. It didn’t sound like a question, but she was clearly asking, or more so begging.

“I promise.”

“I know a lot of tricks,” she insisted. “I don’t want you to think that I don’t think you’re great or that I don’t trust you, but I’m his mother. I just know more about him than anyone else.”

“I know,” you assured. “And I will call if I need help, I swear.”

“I’ve never been away from them,” she confided, frowning.

Andy was in the house, grabbing the last of Laurie’s things. You had wanted to get there before she left, knowing Laurie would feel much better talking to you directly, instead of through her husband.

“Well,” you began, awkwardly wringing your hands, “absence makes the heart grow fonder?”

She forced a smile. “We shall see, I suppose… I just feel like something terrible is about to happen.”

Your stomach twisted, there had to be something wrong with you, right? Someone shouldn’t be able to stare at someone, who had only ever been great to them, and lie about fucking their husband.

Your gaze averted to the packed car. It was running, had been for a while. Laurie was clearly anxious, dreading the idea of leaving her husband, her home, and mostly, her child. “Don’t think like that. Everything will be fine.”

“I know that, deep down.”

“I’ll take pictures,” you offered, turning back to her. That was her biggest source of sadness, knowing that she would miss out on some of Jacob’s life. The least you could do was give some of that back to her.

Her smile turned sincere. “I feel so guilty about leaving him. He’s so young.”

“Too young, I’m sure. No emotional trauma will result.”

She scoffed. “Well, if he ends up a murderer—”

“You can tell me I was wrong,” you finished for her.

She hugged you tight and you felt guilt flare up again. It had been coming and going all morning, it had nearly made you sick when you were getting dressed this morning. You chose a skirt because Andy loved you in them so much, knee-high socks, and a thin sweater, but absolutely no underwear. You were going to hell, that much you were sure of.

Andy walked out then, and things just slowed down. It was his eyes, what he wasn’t saying but what you knew he felt, that was enough to calm you down. This was wrong, yes, but your feelings were sincere. At least it wasn’t just some fling, he wasn’t going to do this with someone else, you weren’t going to go after another married man. This was you and him, it just was.

He met your panicked stare, a knowing look in his eyes. He knew you were what you were thinking, feeling, and as soon as Laurie was gone, he was going to do everything in his power to stop it. “Last bag.”

Laurie pulled back, watching her husband load the last suitcase into the backseat. Once he turned to her, she threw herself at him.

Andy was slow to react, too slow in your opinion, but you figured Laurie had become used to that by now. You figured you weren’t exactly the reason Andy had started pulling away, you were just a step in that path.

And cue jealousy. You realized you’d never watched them together, not like this. Andy wasn’t an overly affectionate man so save for the occasional quick kiss when he got home, nothing. You hadn’t experienced this ugly emotion in the pit of your stomach all the times before that, but then, the last time had to have been months before he started driving you home.

“I know I’m being ridiculous,” she stated.

Considering, via text the night before, how many times he promised to make you come, she was not being ridiculous. You stepped back a few feet to give them some space, turning away completely when she kissed him.

You rolled your eyes as yourself, turning your attention to the porch you were standing on. What had you been expecting? That was his wife, of course, he was going to kiss her. You didn’t look at them again until Laurie called out a goodbye to you. You smiled, waving as she ducked into her car.

“Thank you so much.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” you responded, probably more to make yourself feel better than her. This was not ‘nothing’, however, what you were doing was terrible, unforgivable.

“Really, I’m sure you’ll get tired of them in a few days.”

“No, not Jacob.”

Andy glanced at you curiously, a look you completely ignored.

Laurie laughed, looking at him once more. “I’ll call when I get there.”

“Okay. Drive safe.”

“I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

“Bye, Y/N! Again, I can’t thank you enough.”

“Trust me, you don’t need to thank me.”

Andy rolled his eyes at you, but otherwise, you both kept appearances until she was down the street. The tension between you two was so strong that it became palpable outside. You knew that when you looked at him, it was done, there was no going back.

You turned to him first and then he turned to you. Arching an eyebrow, you began to step back toward the house, “Well, I should probably get started on this completely serious job.”

He nodded and made his way up the porch. “I agree. Go to your room—”

“My temporary room,” you interjected.

“And get on your bed—”

“My temporary bed.”

“And take off your—”

Your hand instantly pressed over his mouth. “Andy, seriously, none of this when Jacob is here. Okay?”

He leaned back, scoffing. “Jacob isn’t here.”

You rolled your eyes, gesturing into the living room. “I know he’s not here—”

“No, I sent him Derek’s house for the night. He wouldn’t let Laurie pack.”

“Oh.” So…then, oh. That meant that you two were alone and you had all night with him, and it was crystal clear how he wanted to spend that time. You also wanted the same thing; it was just that you hadn’t much time to prepare, mentally, physically. Maybe if you hadn’t fallen asleep last night instead of making videos with one of the toys, you would be a lot more confident.

“Do you want to see your room?”

“Yeah, okay.” You were insanely curious. He led the way up the stairs with you following closely.

Halfway there, he stopped as if he remembered something and turned back to you.

“What are you d—”

He cut you off with a kiss. His arms wrapped arms around you, pulling you into his chest. He’d never kissed you like this, so freely, so desperately. There had been the time in the car, fueled by lust and thrill. This wasn’t that. He held you and locked you in completely, one arm looped around the small of your back, the other around your shoulders, and he just kissed you. It was unhurried because he could finally get lost in you since no one was around, and forceful because there was no reason to stop. Nothing could stop this.

His beard was pricking your skin, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was starting to feel like home, much to your dismay. His tongue soothed your lips anytime the short, rough hairs scratched you there, which was increasingly often as the kiss turned from sweet and experimental to frenzied and disgustingly needy.

You hadn’t realized it was you that started asking for more and taking it without permission—it was you that brought your hands up to his face, you that took advantage of his opened mouth—not until he pulled away. Your hand came up to your lips, the only barrier you could think to put between you two before you tried to kiss him again. How were you ever going to stop now that Laurie was gone?

He smiled at you, rubbed his hand up and down your back. “You really are going to end up killing me, aren’t you?”

His hand closed around yours before you responded and he started guiding you upstairs with him. You continued to press your fingers to your lips, hoping they would stop tingling like you were some pathetic 13-year-old.

“Does she know? About the room?”

“Yeah. I told her it was a good idea…I get home late sometimes, and you need to be here early anyway. She agreed…she would agree with anything that got you away from your parents.”

“But not my daddy?” you teased.

He glanced back at you briefly, trying not to smile. “Can you not call me daddy when we’re talking about your actual dad?”

“As if that doesn’t turn you on more,” you muttered.

“It doesn’t,” he claimed.

You rolled your eyes. “So, she saw the room?”

“No,” he scoffed. “That would have been a dead giveaway. I just told her that I left it the way it was, and I’d let you do whatever you wanted to it.”

“Why didn’t you let me do whatever I wanted to it?”

Jacob’s room was the first room right at the start of the hall on the left. There was a small closet on the opposite side, the guest bathroom next to it. Andy and Laurie’s room was toward the end, the guest bedroom across from it. It seemed like a weird place for a guest room, it was probably an office before the Barber’s moved in, but Andy had taken the spacious room full of windows downstairs as his workspace.

Your heart was pounding with each step closer. You could tell he was nervous about something too; he was squeezing your hand so tight.

He pulled you in front of him a few feet in front of the door, one arm snaking around your waist, the other coming up to your jaw to tilt your head back. “Because you’re my gorgeous little girl and I wanted to spoil the hell out of you.”

You hummed. “You like spending money on me, that’s kinda sick.”

He arched an eyebrow. “On the list of all the things I want to do to you, it’s not even in the top 20.”

You smirked. “What’s number one?”

Trying to stop his smile, he rolled his eyes and kissed your forehead. “You’ll find out soon enough. Focus.” He reached for the door and you turned forward again.

Immediately, you were shocked by what was in front of you. Everything was so pink. There was so much—the huge bed covered in fluffy blankets and pillows, the dresser that had a boxed vibrator on top of it, the bedside tables, the lamps, the huge mirror over the dresser and then the one on the wall across the bed.

“Andy…”

He pulled your hair back on one side, leaning over to get a better look at your face. “What is it, princess?”

You stepped away from him, still in awe. No, this had to be a fever dream—he could not have done all of this for you! “This is too much…I can’t…”

“This isn’t even all of it.”

You turned back to find him looking rather amused. “What have you done?”

He shrugged. “Look around a bit. It’s your room, you know.”

You quickly leaned over the nearest bedside table and yanked open the drawer, it contained several boxes of small plugs, all soft pastel shades, or gold and bejeweled. Who needed this many? No one, but it was clear that nothing, in Andy’s mind, was too much for you.

You chose to ignore the locked chest at the end of the bed as you marched to the opposite bedside dresser. A pair of handcuffs, silk ties, and ropes—because evidently, he liked variety.

Next, the dresser caught your attention. Most drawers contained panties and bralettes in so many colors, save for the top drawer. Now, the top drawer, that was where things got interesting. Several questionable things were there but the most notable was the gag.

You picked it up, turning back to him with an arched eyebrow.

“Well, you’re not exactly quiet.”

You scoffed, turning back to toss the gag back in its place. “You’re crazy.”

“Crazy about you, baby.”

You turned back, fully intending to tell him how lame you found that line. Instead, you noticed the closet. You stared at it for a mere second before you shot him a pleading look. No, not that.

“Maybe you should hold off on that.”

Oh, god. You rushed forward and yanked the door open, mouth instantly dropping. Color-coordinated, lace, leather, sheer, tiny, short—all beautiful lingerie that you fell in love with. “Andy.”

“It’s not a big—”

“When did you start doing all of this?”

“The morning after you said yes.”

Again, your stomach flipped. You were more than just flattered, you were elated, relieved. This wasn’t all in your head, this wasn’t a relationship that you completely built up on your own. No one had ever cared about you this much or put as much effort into you. “I don’t know what to say.”

He nodded you closer and held his out to you, waiting until you made your way to him and took it in both of yours. “I only need to hear you say one thing.”

“Which is?”

His free hand came up to your face. “Do you want this, right now?”

You wanted to have sex with him, you knew that. But right now? That was a much more complex question to answer. This decision had the potential to change everything, and you’d just gotten closer to him. You didn’t want to lose that so quickly.

“I can wait,” he promised. “I’ve been waiting…I’ll wait until you know you’re ready.”

“I know I want this, I’m just…scared.”

“Scared? Of me?”

“No, not you… We can’t undo this, Andy.”

“I know.”

“And have you thought about what that means? Have you thought about if someone finds out—”

“No one is gonna find out.”

“Let’s say they do.”

“It’s not going to happen.”

“If it does,” you repeated firmly. “Then what? Then this is just done, I never see you or hear from you again?”

“No. I am obsessed with you—”

“I like you,” you admitted. “I don’t want to fuck you and then just…stop.”

“That will not happen.”

You rolled your eyes. “You say that, but—”

“I mean it. I don’t want to alarm you, baby doll, but did you think you had a choice? Did you think that I was ever going to stop trying to get you to say yes to this?”

You scoffed. “No, but what if I hadn’t?”

He let his hands slide down until they reached your hips, smirking at the way you shivered. He spun you around, arms circling your waist, mouth level with your ear. “I would have taken you.”

You shook your head. “No, I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” he promised. “Dead serious. I would have brought you back here,” he started moving you toward the side of the bed, “I would have tied you up, gagged you—”

“Stop it,” you halfheartedly scolded. “That’s not funny.”

“No, that’s desperation, and I am very desperate for you.” He pressed himself against you. “Can you feel how desperate, baby girl?”

You could feel his cock against you—this was happening. You wanted it, he wanted it, and neither of you were strong enough to think about the consequences anymore.

He twirled you back to him, taking your arms in his hands. “Say yes.”

“Yes,” you replied instantly.

He indelicately shoved you onto the bed and you gasped a little, then he was over you in a second. His forearms pressed to the bed at either side of your head, his hips pressing down on your thighs, the heat from his body threatening to burn you. “What’s my name, princess?”

“Daddy.”

He hummed. “Don’t make me remind you again.”

You nodded.

He took that time to stare at your body, your weak, completely pliant body. “What am I going to do with you?”

“You should fuck me.”

He glanced up at you, curious to see how much further you were going to go.

“You should fuck your little girl, daddy.”

His eyes darkened—a guilty pleasure he had. A reminder that you were so little compared to him, not in physical size, but in every way. That was why he was your daddy. It got him off knowing how happily you admitted your submission to him.

At first, you weren’t into it as much as him—only when you were unfathomably horny. You came around after he talked about what it was that made you his little girl. It was because he adored you so god damn much. It was because he would do anything for you, anything to touch you, taste you, fuck you—all you had to do was ask, he’d give you the world. It was because you belonged to him, and he would certainly make you happy if you let him. Despite its meaning, its actual definition, it made you feel powerful, in control.

Yes, maybe you were little. Maybe Andy was big—huge, his presence, his reputation, even his name, but he wanted you. He felt something for you. You made him weak, you made him feel desire he’d never felt, not for his wife, not for anyone. You made his life exciting again, you reminded him what lust, infatuation, mind-numbing need, and aching, burning passion felt like.

“Oh, my little girl?” he teased, not bothering to hide how happy he was. “You gonna be my good little girl today?”

You nodded.

He stood up then, pulling his shirt off. He tried to hide his smirk as you rose onto your elbows, eyes trailing down his torso to where his hands were working his pants down. Once he was naked before you, he could see how badly you wanted his cock. No one else had ever been so desperate for him, he could see on your face just how badly you wanted him to ruin you.

He got on his knees before you, tsking when you went to sit up. “You wore what I wanted you to wear.”

“Yes, daddy.”

“I think that deserves a reward.” He draped one of your legs over his back at a time, then he shoved your skirt upward. He took your hands, linking his fingers between yours, and your heart started pounding.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your pussy and your back instantly arched. He did so again and again, sometimes pulling away completely to pay attention to your inner thighs. You had no idea how long he was teasing you for, you just knew that your pussy was soaking, you could smell your arousal, your skin burned everywhere that he touched you, your hips were shaking, squirming, bucking with need.

When he finally let his tongue slide along your folds, the breath was stolen right out of your lungs. Your body arched uncomfortably, a sob caught in your throat. You didn’t move due to the illogical fear that somehow this feeling would disappear.

His tongue moved through you loudly, only possible because he had gotten you so wet. Your cheeks burned at some of the sounds that filled the room, so filthy, so telling. He would moan and sigh and suck on your skin as he hummed, all to let you know he was enjoying every second of your pussy.

You didn’t want to hurt him, you were mindful of your heels and you didn’t press them into his back. You spread your thighs wider every time you were concerned you would close them on him. You couldn’t tear at the sheets or his hair because he was holding your hands. All that you were managing were small whimpers. You needed something, you needed to hold something, scream, do anything, but you couldn’t.

You started to shake the closer you got, your entire body just trembling with pure yearning. Andy’s eyes flickered up as he took your clit with his lips and sucked relentlessly. Your breaths were short and shaky, getting caught in your chest, barely making sound at all.

Still, most of the noise was from his mouth on your soaking core. He was so obscene about it, it was the only way he knew how to humiliate you, to remind you he was in charge. He needed you to know that he knew how badly you wanted him, there was no hiding. Not anymore, not in this room, not while the two of you were completely alone.

A scream that did not sound like your own tore from your throat when you were coming. Your hips bucked and all he did was make sure to keep sucking on your clit. He let you ride out your high, using his face until you fell limp against the bed.

Only, in typical Andy style, he didn’t stop. He continued to lick and suck at your skin greedily, as if you were his favorite fucking desert. Your body was spasming from the aftershocks every time he pressed his tongue up forcefully and then circled your clit, whimpers becoming much whinier, breathier. He didn’t care, he simply kept going, eyes trained on your face because he wanted to see you fall apart again.

You propped back up on your elbows again. You wanted to see his face, his eyes, but mostly, you wanted to watch his mouth working against your cunt. You could always anticipate what was going to happen, you knew when his beard would brush against you, you knew when he was going to lick or suck, you knew where because you could see it but that never prepared you for a second of how it felt.

You bit down on your lip as you felt his tongue run down, just barely pressing into your entrance. Fuck. “Daddy,” you gasped, surprised by how good it felt.

He groaned softly and you mewled for him. “You taste so good, princess.”

“Daddy, please make me come.”

He hummed. “Again?”

You nodded fast.

“You already want another one?” he teased. “You have the greediest pussy, baby.”

“You gonna be able to keep up with me, daddy?”

He scoffed. “I suppose we’ll see.”

Your body was trembling all over again as you felt his tongue dipping into you, curling to gather all that was dripping out of you from your first orgasm. Your hips erratically jerked up for more, silently pleading for him to make you finish. Of course, Andy kept you there for as long as he could.

He was watching the way your body moved as he kept sliding his tongue inside you. He found your taste sweet and soft, no surprise there, because you were his sweet and soft little girl that he was going to tear apart tonight until you were this greedy, pathetic little thing.

His lips slid up roughly, locating your clit in no time at all. When he pulled on your skin, sucking noisily, you started unraveling again. You writhed around on the bed, unable to get away from him with the back of your knees catching on his shoulders.

“Daddy,” you sobbed. “Fuck, daddy!”

He remained there, uncaring that you were wrecked, overstimulated. Through your whimpers and pleas, he continued focusing only on your clit, unrelenting, cruel, smug. He knew exactly what he was doing.

You just felt pressure, building and building in your core as the seconds ticked by. It was nothing short of agonizing, all the swipes of his tongue, his beard, his lips latched onto your clit. Every touch hurt, it was simply too much for you, but it was a burn that you loved every moment of.

Your body moved without permission from your brain. Your hips jumped off the bed, your back arched, your elbows dug into the mattress, you yanked your thighs further apart. You couldn’t take much more—your brain knew that, but your body just wanted and wanted.

Every touch from Andy sparked something in your brain, a part that needed him so deeply and then was utterly, thoroughly satisfied. It was addiction being fed, a match being lit, a shock just coursing through your body until you were coming once again.

After running his tongue up and down a few times, just to get the taste of you, he turned his head and began to kiss your thigh. He waited until you were limp on the mattress before switching legs. “Baby?”

You knew he called out to you, but your mind was all hazy and scattered. It took you several long moments before you could respond. “Yeah?”

“I’m starting to lose feeling in my hands.”

At that moment, you realized how tightly you were holding him. You yanked your hands away immediately. “Oh, I’m sorry!”

He chuckled, laying on his side on the bed next to you.

You remained on your back but turned your head to him. His jaw and beard were wet and you’d never seen him look as happy as he did right then.

He arched an eyebrow at you. “You good, sweetheart?”

“Yeah. Can I taste you, daddy?”

He touched your cheek and you nuzzled your face into his palm. “Not right now, baby girl. I’m gonna finish inside you because I have been waiting for months to be able to.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

He gave you a look. “I’m taking it easy on you, don’t start getting mouthy.”

Finally, you turned onto your side. You just wanted to feel him, you pressed your palms to his chest and dragged them down his stomach. He was built like a fucking wall and that was one of the many reasons you felt safe with Andy. He was so strong, strong enough to hold you down and fuck you until you couldn’t remember your name.

He took your shoulder in his hand and pressed you down as he got back onto his feet. He returned to his position on his knees and you just barely stopped yourself from pleading with him not to eat you out again—you couldn’t take another one of those, but he would if you let him know that.

He started with your shoes, carefully, touching you like you were a vase, he slipped them off and let them noisily clatter to the floor. He grabbed the top of one of your socks and began kissing his way down until he pulled it off your foot. One last kiss was set to your ankle before he repeated his actions to your other leg.

You sat up for him and he stood from between your legs. He took the bottom of your sweater and you lifted your arms when he needed you to. For a moment, he just stared at you, then his eyes met yours as he took one of your breasts in his mouth.

You gasped and reached back, both hands pressed to the bed and fisting the sheets. You stared at one another as he sucked roughly enough to leave a mark, and then did so again to your other breast. He scattered wet kisses everywhere, your chest, down over your rib cage, your stomach, until he was at the hem of your skirt.

“You still good?”

“I just need you inside me, we’ve waited so long.”

He found the zipper on the side of your skirt and pulled it down slowly, almost like he was waiting for you to back out.

You used your elbows for balance and lifted your hips when he pulled the garment down.

He leaned over you, hands on the bed. “Just one more time,” he muttered. “I just need to hear it again.”

“I want you right now,” you promised. You weren’t nervous, not in the ways you thought you’d be. You saw a million and one promises in his eyes, you knew he wouldn’t let you down. Not here, not ever.

“Okay.” He kissed you briefly before settling in the bed. You watched his cock move as he laid flat on his back. He was hard, dripping with precum and your pussy was aching at the thought of being filled by him. “Come here.”

You rolled over onto your hands and knees to climb over him. You pressed his cock down to his stomach with your hand and set your soaking cunt along his shaft. You sighed, reveling in the feel of him.

His hands shot out to grab your hips as he sighed. “Fuck, baby.”

“Daddy, your cock feels so good.” You rolled your hips back and forth, wet noises, your whimpers, his heavy breaths, until he held you tight and made you stop. You set your hands to his stomach, eyes lingering on all the muscle there.

“Don’t tease, angel.”

“Or what?”

He gave you a warning look.

Smirking, you slid one hand and took his cock. With your gaze locked in his, you lined yourself up with him.

“Take it slow, baby.”

You were nervous now, worried about the pain a little, but mostly that you wouldn’t be able to take him all night like he so clearly intended. The head of his cock was against you and you had to press down hard to get him so slightly inside you. The immediate sting made you gasp.

“Fuck!” he hissed. His thumbs rubbed over your hip bones encouragingly. “You’re doing great, take your time.”

You took slow, measured breaths until it stopped hurting so much, then you took more of him. You ached, your skin burned, but you wouldn’t be satisfied until he was completely inside you.

“Fuck,” he repeated, gorgeous blue eyes staring up at you. He let one hand fall to press his fingertips to your clit.

You whimpered, “Daddy.”

“Come on, princess, just a little more. I can feel you dripping down my cock, you can take it.” He brushed his fingers back and forth over you, not intending to make you come, but to get you wetter.

You forced yourself down until you were sure you couldn’t take more, a scream catching in your throat at the immediate pain. You stopped to get used to the feel and he added more pressure, shorter, faster, more deliberate movements over your clit. Your head fell back as you felt that familiar coiling sensation. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chanted, voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re doing good,” he promised. “So good, because you’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

You hummed, nodding.

“Mhm, and you’re gonna keep going?”

“Yes, daddy.” You clamped your mouth shut, closed your eyes, and held your breath and you moved further down.

“Fuck, you have the tightest pussy.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “I am sure that you can say that to all the girls.”

His voice was rough, deeper than usual, an indication of how much strain was being put on him to stay controlled, to not just yank you down and fuck you senseless. “It’s okay, baby doll, you’re almost there. Come on, a little more.”

Instead, you pulled back and then slid right back down. Your eyes rolled back, filling with hot tears at the blissful but sharp sensation.

His fingers pressed down unbearably into your hip bone. “Remember back when I was trying to get you to come back?”

You didn’t say anything because you knew he would finish speaking regardless. You focused on his cock, relishing the feel, the veins, the heat of his body, but also concerned because was he going to fit? You were too scared to look at your progress, so you blindly kept slipping down.

“And remember how you tried to say your boyfriend was bigger?”

“I don’t think I recall,” you managed.

“Sure,” he scoffed, “Because then you would have to admit what an insolent little brat you are.”

You laughed shortly, a shaky, breathy sound deep from your chest. In pain or not, Andy was still hilarious to push around, not that he much let you. You turned your attention down, finding that he was staring at the place you two were connected. “Oh, I’m insolent?”

He nodded once. “I’ll have to teach you some manners before summer’s over.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

He lifted his hand from your cunt and grabbed your jaw. Instead of letting him communicate whatever half-hearted threat he thought up, you took his wrist and pulled it up. When you could, when they were in your reach, you swallowed two of his fingers.

He groaned. “God damn it, I’m about to throw you down and fuck you so hard, sweetheart, until you’re crying and begging me to stop.”

You moaned loudly around his fingers. Was that his idea of a punishment?

“Don’t stop now, babe, come on.”

Against your better judgment, you looked. You saw that you were halfway down, yet felt so impossibly, completely full, and noticed that you were, in fact, dripping down his length. You made another sound, sucking on his fingers to distract you from the next sting as you deliberately went down, down, down until you were seated on his thighs.

He pulled his hand from your mouth to grasp your other hip. “Shit.”

Whimpering, you slid your hands upward until you were lying flat on his chest, trying to stay as still as possible until you accommodated his size. Your soft body was resting over his sculpted figure. Your breasts against his firm chest, your stomach against those abs, inner thighs pressed to the outsides of his. “Oh, god, daddy. You’re so fucking big.”

One hand came up to the back of your head and he held you there. “You’re such a good girl, you know that?”

You nodded a little.

His other arm looped around your back, pinning you down. He rocked his hips forward just once, just barely, but it brushed the right spot and made you mewl for him. “You okay?”

You nodded, nearly frantic. “I’m okay. Do it again, fuck me, daddy.”

“I’m gonna sit up, okay?”

You were confused by that but moved when he did, wrapping your legs around him when he was in reach. It widened your hips and he managed to get in a little deeper. You stared at him, touching his face, feeling over his cheekbones, his lips. How could one person be so beautiful? Part of you wanted to hate him. You never had a chance at saying no, not when there was a man that looked like this that wanted you the way he did.

“Are you still okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you assured.

He took your hips in his hand and pulled you off until you were just about at the head of his cock. Then, he thrust in and pulled you down, gaining a surprised but satisfied moan from you.

“Daddy, please,” you begged, “keep doing that.” You were so wet and your mind was so hazy, you were almost certain you would go insane with need before he made you come. How you two had even held out this long was a miracle.

He did as you asked, several more times, all slow and careful movements that were certainly not meant to make you come. You could see that enjoyment in his eyes as you stared at him, still admiring his face. He was teasing you, but were you honestly going to do anything about it? Well, you could whine a bit.

“Daddy,” you muttered, “I need to come. Please, please just fuck me.”

He hummed as if he hasn’t already made up his mind. “I don’t know…”

“Please, I’ll be so good all summer, I swear.”

He snorted. “I highly doubt your ability to be good for extended periods of time.”

“I will,” you insisted, voice weak, much to his amusement. “Daddy, I’ve wanted this for months. I can’t wait anymore, please.”

He gave you this searing, agonizingly slow kiss, all tongue and lips and teeth, and didn’t pull away until you were breathless and your lips were swollen.

Once more, he used his hold on your hips to control the pace and pressure. Each time you were brought back down on his cock, he was hitting this mind-numbing spot that always made you gasp and moan as more tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

You were still aching, but that was secondary to how badly you needed this man to make you finish. You wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to his shoulders. You didn’t much care for this dynamic—you, in this blissful place where he nearly had you crying and coming, but him, controlled and quiet.

You squeezed your cunt around him as he faltered in dragging you down his cock. And there it was. Your advantage. He continued to push and pull with his hold on your hips and when you could, you used your pussy to grip him tighter.

Your first orgasm happened unexpectedly. You were still aching, still stretched a little too much, you thought it would be possible, but one more forceful thrust of his hips and it was triggered. “Daddy, fuck, I’m coming!” Your nails pinched down on his skin, trying to get him closer, but also trying to get relief in any way you could.

“Yeah?” he cooed, still fucking into you with evident determination. The sounds coming from him were short, you felt them start in his chest, they would come out quiet—he still hadn’t lost that remarkable restraint, but he would. “My little girl’s gonna come?”

You nodded quickly, “daddy, please. Please let me come.”

“You can come, baby. You can come on daddy’s cock.”

You cried out sharply, frustrated by how close you were. It still felt out of your reach, impossible to get, but then it happened. It was one last hit to the spot inside you that no one else had ever found, your vision went white for several seconds, your entire body briefly tightened everywhere, and then you just exploded. His hold on you loosened, allowing you to take some of the lead and you used the next several minutes to keep your body moving, hips stuttering and your cunt struggling to take him.

You were shaking again, your entire body, fucked out, exhausted, but still wanting.

“Look at the mess you made, princess.”

You turned down, mindlessly obedient after what he’d just made you feel. His stomach was wet, the part of his cock that you could see was covered in you. You weren’t surprised, you felt like a dam had broken inside you.

“Did daddy make you feel good, baby?”

You looked back up at him and nodded.

“Do you need a minute?”

“No,” you shook your head, “I need you to come inside me.”

He tossed you down on the mattress, situating his body over you. He found leverage on his knees and discovered that he could fuck you sufficiently from this position. Relentlessly, his large hands keeping your lower half pinned to the mattress, his hips began snapping up. They were desperate, almost panicked. He was close and he needed to use you hard and fast.

Those soaking wet noises from your pussy grew louder as his hips jerked up, only covered by your screams. You latched onto him, arms locked around his shoulders, keeping him as close as humanly possible.

“Can you give daddy another orgasm?” he asked. “Hmm? I want to feel you coming when I do. Can you do that for me, beautiful?”

You were nodding without giving the question much thought. You would do, or at least try to do, anything that he asked. You started to angle your hips as he thrust in, clit brushing against some part of his skin. You were close around the same time he was, you noticed his shorter hip movements, more powerful snaps, a tighter grasp where you knew bruises would form by the time you woke up the next day.

He set his face in the bend of your neck, open lips against your shoulders. You felt all his heavy breaths, the grunts, the cursing.

Again, you pointedly clenched around his cock and his hips slowed for a mere second. When he was moving again, he was coming. You felt him spill into your cunt and with only a few more brushes against you, you were coming. Neither of you stopped moving despite having reached what you wanted, because, in reality, you both wanted so much more.

You both wanted seclusion, the house to yourselves, the whole summer vacation to do a whole lot more of this. All of it was yours and you knew there was a world outside, but right there with Andy, it seemed like nothing else existed. It was just moans and groans and cries, grabbing one another as hard as possible.

Once he rode out his high, he rolled over to let you on top once again. You laid yourself out flat on top of his body and he hugged you to him, scattering kisses on the top of your head. Abruptly, he took your jaw and angled your face so you were staring at him. “Tell me right now that you have never been fucked that good.”

“I haven’t,” you assured, “Never.” You meant it, there was no one who ever made you scream as much as Andy had. Now that you were coming back down to earth, your throat was raw, lips swollen, breasts still wet from his mouth, body covered in the thinnest layer of sweat.

He smirked. “Good girl.”

Your body was spent, exhaustion you had never felt before, but you still craved him, you still wanted to take. Andy’s cock remained buried inside you because he wanted you to know when he was ready for more, he wanted you fully anticipating when he was going to be fucking you again.

You felt him soft, felt his cum dripping out of your cunt. Then you felt him grow harder as his hands roamed every inch of your body for what could have been hours. He started with your ass, admiring the curve, then your waist for the same reason.

His hand grabbed a handful of your hair and he yanked your head back so far that your chest started to lift just a little. There, he took one of your nipples between the fingers of his opposite hand and squeezed.

Your mouth dropped and you released a shuddering breath. “Daddy.”

He moved onto the next, pinching just as roughly until a soft plea spilled from your mouth. Once you begged him—for nothing in particular, just a chanting of ‘please, please, please—he let you go and pulled you back down for a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss that made your toes curl and your body heat up.

He only pulled away because he was hard again. The dark, demanding look he gave you should have terrified you. He was going to reduce you to nothing, pull you apart, absolutely deconstruct everything you were, everything you knew.

“You ready for another round, sweetheart?” he didn’t give you the time to answer, instead, he rolled over yet again to lay you out beneath him. His cock still inside you, he created just enough space between the two of you that he could press his fingers down on your pussy, searching for your clit. When your mouth dropped, two fingers from his other hand were shoved inside until you were choking on them.

“After I’m done with you, you’re never going to be able to fuck another man,” he asserted. “Not your boyfriend, not anyone else. No one is going to give it to you as good as I am. No one else is gonna be this rough, this sick, not enough for how desperate and greedy you are. You, baby doll, are officially, completely mine.”

requests to be tagged: @onetwo3000​ @chris-evans-indian-fanfic​ @donutloverxo​ @kleohoneyao3​ @evansislife​ @ilovetheeagles​

[margarethx]

I have some slightly controversial take about Sam Wilson fandom here, so maybe don’t reblog this post... Comment if you want, but I really don’t want to start arguing with anyone. I just need to vent and will probably delete the whole rant later.

So...

I know that Sam’s fans complain a lot about the treatment he gets in the fandom... I still do that from time to time and I probably will continue doing it in the future. But I’m starting to feel very, very tired with the people who act like their love for Sam can only be expressed through:

1) criticizing other people’s content,

2) hatered/dislike for Bucky or Sambucky,

3) complaining about other people in the fandom.

It’s so weird. We criticize the people who make Bucky-centric content with barely any mention of Sam and tag it with his name, because it’s annoying, but at the same time there is quite a big number of fans, whose posts in Sam Wilson tag are basically:

“omg he never gets recognition”, “MCU fandom hates Sam”, “Everything is about Bucky, where is Sam?!” “some of you only like sam when he’s with bucky :/”

And... sure. There’s a lot of truth to these statements. But saying that over and over again won’t fix the problem, especially if you yourself don’t do ANYTHING to remedy the situation. You’re flooding the tag too... Just in a different way. A few months ago I had this habit that I liked to follow people who wrote posts like these. Because I had this assumption that: if you complain about Sam being treated badly you probably love him a lot, so we should get along. I love him too!

But I realized that a lot of those people literally complain for the sake of complaining and than don’t even try to post Sam-centric content on their own. Why not??? You don’t have to be an amazing creator to make a good post. It’s not just about realistic fanart and 30k words fanfic with a complicated plot. You might write some weird HCs about Sam instead. Or a joke. Incorrect quotes. Ideas for fics you’ll never finish, but might inspire other people. Doodles that took 2 minutes of drawing. Edited photos. Favourite screenshots. Prompts. Learn to make poor-quality gifs of Sam’s cool fightigh style. Write a short scene analysis. Or ask other people how they analyse some scenes to start a discussion. Link some edits from YouTube.

And if you cannot think of a single thing to make on your own? Well. You can always promote art made by other people. Go through the tag and reblog things you loved. Find a good blog and search throught their archives to find older content. You can compile a post with fic recommendations so other people read what you enjoyed and see how good the content about Sam might be. Or recommend your favourite creators in general. Send encouraging asks to artists who you love so they feel motivated.

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But these people do none of that. I can scroll throught their blog for 10 minutes and everything about Sam Wilson I see is complaining that people like Bucky more. Or that Sambucky is popular. (As if all the best Sambucky stories aren’t just fans expressing their love towards Sam through Bucky’s eyes...) I’m not trying to say that you have to be a creator to criticize the fandom, but it’s weird when you only yell at others for not posting enough about Sam when you didn’t post anything about him either unless it’s complaining. Kind of ironic...

Also! If you don’t promote other people’s content they get discoraged from posting. It’s a fact. I have probably over 80 different half-made and finished drawings with Sam Wilson on my tablet, but I have zero incentive to post any of them, because every attempt in the past ended with these posts getting 4 notes. Or 10 at best. So why bother? I can look at them alone. And I don’t remember these people who complained about the lack of Sam content supporting my Sam-centric art with nice comments.

You cannot expect the fandom to mass-produce content for you if you don’t encourage it. I got no feedback, so now I just sort of... write or draw for myself, because I enjoy it and have no incentive to publish any of that when no one’s interested. Instead I just make writing prompts or analysis of tfatws, because there’s a bigger chance I’ll have an interesting disussion with other fans in the comments or I’ll inspire other creators to make more art by posting that. I enjoy both of those things very much, but one evokes a reaction I want and the other just... doesn’t. (It’s not even about validation... even if it’s nice to get compliments. It’s just: “when other people are clearly not interested, why make the art public at all?”.)

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Like I said. I’m not going to call out any specific person here. But there were a few people who harshly criticized me in asks or in private messages for “pretending to love Sam” just because I like Sambucky too. But if you scroll through my blog you’ll find that at least 95% of the posts are about Sam. And if you scroll through theirs it’s 3 posts - all of them about fandom not loving Sam enough. (I just checked.)

But I guess I’m a “disgrace to the fandom”, because I acknowledge that Sam might have a love interest while you said you hate Bucky, so... Apparently your love for Sam Wilson is more real if you despise more popular characters he interacts with. ...Be honest with yourselves. Some of you just like to whine and complain, but prefer to disguise it behind love for Sam, so it sounds justified.

And yes. There should be more content that is only about Sam. Or about Sam’s non-romantic relationships. Sure. But if my two choices are: “get a Sambucky fic about Bucky loving Sam very much” or “get a post where someone cries about Sam not being loved enough for the 10th time”... then pardon me for preferring the first option.

If any of you spent half the energy you waste on complaining on making a single post about your supposed love for Sam the tag would be much more full of good content. But it seems like making actual content requires more effort and talent, so you just stay there whining that other people don’t provide you with what you want and demand. And give zero encouragement and promotion to those who do the work.

So continue doing that if you wish. But I won’t waste all my energy on making my weekly “this fandom fucking sucks” post. I prefer promoting cool art other users made (now or years ago) and creating my own posts that might not be always 100% about only Sam... but are still focused on him. Because I like this fictional little guy. I’m not going to let this weird purity tests ruin my enjoyment. If the pretty drawing of Sam has Bucky on the other side of the canvas I still have a cool drawing of Sam to admire. So it’s a win for me.

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[Reminder: please don’t reblog this. I really just need to vent. Comments are okay, I can discuss this. I just don’t want some peope to see that and go yell at me all over again. I was already harassed for allowing Bucky or Steve on my mostly Sam-Wilson-centric blog...]

[Also... if you think this is hypocritical of me to complain about complaining... Maybe. I don’t think it’s comparable here, but whatever.]

[still-a-morosexual-help]

OBEY ME! LESSON 52 DETAILED SUMMARY + THEORIES

Two locked lessons :( hopefully telling where the fuck Mammon & Luke have been

Lucifer’s immediately suspicious of them, asking who they are and whose in charge of them. MC points at their obviously non-angelic clothes and says they’re angels while Satan says Simeon’s their guardian (weren’t Simeon & Lucifer really close back then? Wouldn’t he have told Lucifer if he got new angels?). He says it’s good luck then that he ran into a seraph’s assistants as he dumbs a load of books on them and says ‘I’m a seraph assist me’ or rather ‘carry these books to the library for me’ – Satan gets ready to protest but Lucifer cut him off saying that assuming they really are angels they’d know who he was (really didn’t like that ‘assuming you really are angels bit’) meaning his orders are not optional so get to work. Satan silently glares at him. Lucifer complains about how this is not even his job but Raphael’s who’s been picking on Lucifer to get back for how much shit his brother’s cause (I’ve so many HCs about Raphael and Michael. Raphael I always see as stoic and stiff who gets into those aggressively polite, passive-aggressive, thin lipped smile, voices hissed out and cutting, arguments with Lucifer about his brothers and punishing them adequately. Considering Michael is supposed to be somewhat childish personality wise and Raphael is serious I also see them having a relationship very similar to Diavolo and Lucifers’, With Raphael being Michael’s weary but fond handler). Satan says if his brothers are acting out then maybe Lucifer’s just bad at supervising them, MC sighs and sympathises with the tone of someone who has lived through the exact same experience which Lucifer immediately picks up and comments on. Beel’s been sneaking food, Belphie keeps escaping to the human world and even though they’re relatively minor things their frequency makes them add up and Raphael won’t stop being snide and sarcastic about it. Satan cuts off Lucifer’s ranting about how terrible Raphael is (given that outside of his brothers Simeon’s the only one Lucifer seems close with in the Celestial Realm and knowing Lucifer he’d never unload his troubles on to his brothers in fear of being seen as not being in control, and Beel mentioned Lucifer usually stuck to staying inside the Celestial Palace it makes sense that he desperately needs someone to rant to) saying that Lucifer complains too much and if he’s so happy here maybe he should just leave the celestial realm and head to – but he’s cut off by Lucifer saying “for an angel you really seem ready to start shit huh” and I’m pretty sure he knows :) Satan just silently glares back. Lucifer tries to tell them what the organising system in the library is but Satan cuts him off saying he can see what it is by just looking and then he diverts his attention to psychoanalysing Lucifer, asking if Lucifer’s pushing them around cause Raphael pushes him around. Lucifer ignores the last part saying no matter how much sully seems like he wants to tear Lucifer’s head off he’s skilful and knows his way around books, when Satan only glares back he asks if Satan likes books to which he replies that every book in this library is precious. Lucifer laments about how none of his brothers like books despite how much he tries to get them into reading and that there’s no one he knows who he can talk to about them since Michael “overcomplicates things and twists them into something they’re not” (do you think Michael has started his Lucifer shrine at this point or does that happen after the fall?) and Raphael “who’s snide and generally unpleasant” (God if they do introduce the angels I desperately want them to be dicks. Like give me one person who’s an asshole that’s not hiding a secret soft side, I want someone who looks at MC sneers and then continues to never fall in love with them) though there is Simeon who’s the most normal of them. He says his life would be easier if he had someone like Sully for a brother (poor Satan’s probably going through a crisis rn). Lucifer says that Satan can look around and pick any book he wants and even points him towards a section meant only for seraph. Satan hesitantly picks up one and asks for permission and Lucifer notes he’s a fan of art. After they’re done Lucifer calls Satan close to look at a particularly interesting book with a blank cover. There’s a flash of bright white light and chains burst from inside the book and wrap around Satan who gets immediately pissed off, demanding what’s happening (earning their trust just to flip on them like that!? Specially satan!? The years of progress that just undid!?) Does he already know Satan is a demon? I mean they’re both pretty suspicious either way but I’m pretty sure he won’t take them to the other higher ups considering how he spoke about them and I’m 100% sure if this was pre-Diavolo angel!Lucifer he would have killed Satan on the spot without bothering to trap him.

Satan yells at Lucifer to do something (I don’t know if it’s sweet or sad that no matter how much Satan pretends to hate Lucifer in the end he absolutely believes Lucifer would never do anything to hurt him and would help him if he was in trouble even when Satan’s usual logic should tell him that Lucifer intentionally gave him the book). Lucifer says it makes sense that Satan got caught and when MC tries to help him Satan tells them to stay back cause he doesn’t want them to get caught either. Lucifer says the book is alive and catches evil beings and the harder you struggle the tighter the chains get (don’t you think Evil has two meanings in the OM! World? The brothers and the demons in general are referred to as evil a lot but when it comes down to it they’re all good people – heavily flawed with pretty loose morals – but more or less good people certainly not bad enough to be called evil. Evil tm seems to be what all demons naturally are but that it seems to have nothing to do with the puppy kicking, baby eating, mass murder you’d usually associate with the term. So yeah two different meanings. I think technically inanimate objects like the book would react to the natural Evil tm in the brothers and actual people like the angels will associate that natural Evil tm with the normal evil we all know and thus believe all demons are puppy kicking, baby eating, mass murderers). Lucifer said he would have known if Simeon got two angels (BOOM!) and that he knew from the beginning they weren’t angels (just look at their freaky ass non-white coloured clothes!). Satan says Lucifer playing dirty is something that has never changed. Lucifer says he has no fucking clue what Satan’s talking about and then looks at MC and says “wtf are you anyway” when MC answers he says that Michael’s being interested in a human sorcerer recently but guesses that’s not MC, he says they’re obviously not a demon or angel but doesn’t seem to believe the human thing fully too because he again asks and emphasises, “Interesting…What are you, exactly…” (This is the second time OM!’s implied MC’s not fully human, demon or angel with the first being in a devilgram. In my first ever HC list I said I see MC as a hybrid of the three while still being mostly human – because when Lilith died she was no longer an angel but she wasn’t fully a demon either and that particular magic unique to only her travelled with her when she reincarnated and then travelled unnoticed through her descendants and was magnified after MC made pacts with the 7 brothers and started sharing their powers). Satan latches on to that, stating MC’s not a demon so Lucifer should only be interested in him but that piques Lucifer’s interest more and he moves closer to MC because why would a demon protect someone else. MC tells Lucifer to let Satan go (and it’s said in a way where it’s implied it’s an order not an option and MC’s a little insane right?) Satan says there’s no point trying to get Lucifer to listen before he transforms into his demon form saying Lucifer never listens, to which Lucifer is silent (Y’all really need to talk after all this is over), before he says there’s no need for Satan to lose his temper and that Lucifer would let them go which obviously shocks Satan. Lucifer releases Satan who asks what Lucifer’s new plot is. Lucifer’s like “wow you have zero trust in me” and Satan’s like “bitch, I have negative trust in you”. Lucifer says there’s no plots and Satan says he’s lying. Lucifer says that the old him would have drop kicked a demon on site and wouldn’t have released them just so they could talk. And what does Lucifer want to talk about? His new demon boo <3 ugh sorry “acquaintance”. He says he never would have imagined he’d have a demon as an acquaintance but here we are. Lucifer says he’s strange, that he doesn’t act like a demon and that the more they talk the less he understands him but that he likes talking to him and there’s a certain feeling he gets from talking to Diavolo similar to the one he gets when talking to Satan (familiarity? Belonging? Kinship? Affection?) and I can’t believe we went from Lucifer complaining about his co-workers to him asking advice about what sounds like his first crush. Lucifer says he also wants to know more about Satan and that he only used the book to make sure he actually was a demon and he asks Satan to forgive him, Satan is silent and contemplative. Lucifer says he’s answered Satan’s questions and isn’t there something that Satan should say to him, more specifically, “thank you for releasing me”. Satan mumbles under his breath “holy shit I can’t believe you made me believe you were nice! You’re as nasty as ever” but still flushes red and says thanks. Lucifer’s pleased by it and says that for his good manners he won’t report anything to Michael but in return they have to follow him again.

Lucifer leads them back to a rooftop? where the brothers are. Mammon says Lucifer’s late and that Beel ate the food they’d left aside for him, while Belphie complains about how after Lucifer told all of them not to be late he was. Lucifer smiles and tells Belphie to not get mad about it in exchange for Lucifer ignoring that Belphie slept on the job. Belphie says that’s playing dirty. Asmo & Levi say that considering all the work Lucifer has these days they shouldn’t be mad at him, they then ask why Satan left and that they were worried about him & MC. Belphie asks since when were they friends with Lucifer, A red faced Satan says they’re not. Beel happily points out that Satan’s face is progressively turning more red and Satan says that all the eggs Beel ate contained reddite and it was fucking up his eyesight and this exactly the sort of BS I’d say to my brother to get him off my back the om! Team writes sibling relationships so well???? Beel questions about reddite and Satan just goes balls deep with the lie, creating a new disorder, explaining how it works and what the permanent effects are to which Beel immediately starts panicking until Belphie says Satan’s just being a lil’ shit. Simeon congratulates MC on their therapy skills but MC says it’s Lucifer who did everything. Simeon says Lucifer shouldn’t get all the credit (because yeah honestly sometimes just having someone to sit with you and hold your hand even if you don’t talk goes a long way when you’re having a bad time). Mammon asks Lucifer why he called them all here. Lucifer uses magic and suddenly the sky daylit sky outside is replaced by the stars and moon and night sky. Lucifer says Michael made Raphael remodel the room (so they’re in the observatory?) to show the human sky as well and Lucifer wanted to check it out before Michael had the chance. All the brothers are in awe. MC asks if Michael will be pissed that Lucifer checked out what is clearly his room first and Lucifer says he doesn’t give a flying fuck about it. Belphie’s thrilled and asks if anyone knows any stories about the constellations, Satan says he knows about every single one. Asmo asks him to tell them and he starts pointing out stars first the three stars forming the triangle of Betelgeuse, then Cator and Pollux – gemini - who are incredibly close and are like peas in a pod which the twins instantly claim as their own, and then orion. Simeon is happy that Satan looks so happy.

Mc is later woken up by Satan, with the others already asleep around the room, he says the stupid faces they make when they sleep hasn’t changed over the years. MC notes that Simeon and Lucifer are missing and asks about it. He says he has no idea and that they must have gone off together, he then asks them to keep quiet about what they saw here when they got back home. MC’s not on board with that and says there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Satan blushes says he’s not but that the brothers will tease him but in the end he’s happy they came here. He thanks MC and they say they’re just happy seeing him being so happy and he calls them mean for teasing him, the twins start moving around in bed and end up in weird positions – Satan fondly complains about that never changing and how they wouldn’t survive without him and goes to straighten them out. MC goes to find Lucifer and Simeon. They then eavesdrop on them talking in the forest. Lucifer says that Simeon looks really good as a human and Simeon says coming from Lucifer that’s a grand compliment. He then says he knows that none of this is real but that he’s truly happy he got to see Lucifer like this one more time. Lucifer asks what he’s talking about considering Simeon sees him so much every day that Lucifer figures Simeon would be sick of him and that nothing is going to change. “This is who we are. And who we’ll be forever” (and this whole thing is so fucking bittersweet and I forget that Simeon lost all his closest friends in the Celestial Realm in one fell sweep and then went through whatever unknown events got him demoted). Simeon looks sad for just a moment before he smiles and says, “Forever, huh…That’s such a wonderful word, but so very fragile.” (actual tears rn). Simeon says he knows Lucifer’s met Diavolo by now and that he’s felt lingering doubt crawl into his heart so when Lucifer says forever even he himself is not sure if he means it (this also explains one of the reasons why Simeon isn’t Diavolo’s biggest fan because while leaving was definitely the brothers’ decision he probably unconsciously or lowkey resents Diavolo for putting the thought into Lucifer’s head and showing him that leaving was an available option) Lucifer stutters and doesn’t know what to say to that. (Okay so ik that some of y’all see the “brothers no more” chat name and see Lucifer and Simeon brothers but I’ve always considered that to mean “brothers in arms”? Not actual siblings? One, because Lucifer would never have left one of his siblings behind, no matter how much they kicked and screamed and refused to leave he would have dragged them down to the Devildom with him. Two, Lucifer treats Simeon as an equal something he doesn’t do to his brothers. With his brothers he’s overprotective and condescending, controlling and overbearing. He’s basically helicopter-parenting and you can clearly see that he doesn’t treat them as equals unlike the way he treats Simeon. Third there’s a clear distance between Simeon and the brothers. I mean they’re all really close but the brothers don’t treat Simeon the same way they treat each other or even the way they treat Lucifer – there always seems to be an underlying layer of respect. I mean sure they respect Lucifer and each other (hard as it may be to see) but they can also call Lucifer and each other ‘dickheads’ to the face something I don’t see them doing with Simeon. The brothers’ relationship with Simeon, I see in the same way I’d treat the composed sweet close friend of a sibling who is much much much older than me. So yeah I see Simeon as being Lucifer’s childhood friend, where they grew up in each other’s pockets, went to war together and fought alongside each other and ended up working in the same place in similar positions).

MC wakes up to someone shaking them and calling their name (you can choose it to be either Luke or Mammon. Because I’m a sim: ) Mammon gives a short relieved laugh when they wake up, asking them what they’re doing sleeping in the middle of the forest and how no matter how much he shook them they didn’t wake up and how he was worried. Satan says they’re back in the real world and Mammon asks them wtf they’re talking about saying he doesn’t remember anything, MC asks where they were and says they were worried. Neither Luke nor Mammon remember anything and didn’t even remember disappearing, saying they walked in the HoL and the next minute they were back to standing in the forest. Mammon and Luke have a brief argument about how they might have actually been in danger and the word chihuahua is thrown and protested to until Mammon remembers and asks what the other two are doing here and MC explains how and why they came here. Luke says okay “but when you say you tripped balls and had a shared hallucination what exactly do you mean…” Satan shuts that down quickly. Luke asks what even happened. Simeon hands him a pamphlet where the whole section about the HoL is gone, in its place is a passage about rumours of fairies who lure people and tease and torment them. Satan says it’s a miracle they made it out alive. Simeon says it’s because of the hawthorn berry powder Satan is covered in because fairies are very fond of hawthorn berries and as a thank you to Satan for bringing it to them they showed him something he’d always wanted to experience. This line makes Mammon & Luke even more curious and Satan threatens Simeon not to say a word but he forgot MC’s a shithead so they begin, “So we found ourselves in the Celestial Realm –“ before Satan cuts them off, telling them to shut up and threatening them with him going to Lucifer and telling him a whole list of bad things Mammon did whether they’re true or not and azkcjbscjwzx I can’t believe Satan just called MC a simp like that right to their face in front of everyone what the fuuuuuuck!????? Mammon oblivious loveable idiot that he is doesn’t understand why he’s being threatened. Simeon reminds them of why they even came out here and MC remembers the fairies/fairy rings, Mammon laments not been able to get their treasure and Luke calls him evil for wanting to steal it. Mammon says treasure or fairy rings it’s still the same but Luke vehemently protests against that. Mammon does note that despite running into fairies there doesn’t seem to be any fairy rings around and Simeon says they may have to give up for now, Satan agrees saying after all the emotional upheaval he’s exhausted. Both Luke and Mammon are really disappointed. (So about the vision/hallucination/reality they saw it reminded me of that thing Dumbledore said in the last Harry Potter book when they were in Kings Cross station. Something about how just because it’s a dream doesn’t mean it’s not real.)

Back in the train station Mammon and Luke are still sulking and MC says at least they had fun together, mammon agrees minus the part at the end that turned into a scene from a horror movie. Satan asks Simeon why he’s smirking, Simeon says he’s remembering how adorable Satan had looked while he was teaching his brothers the constellations for the first time and how he wished real Lucifer was there to see it. Satan demands that none of this goes back to Lucifer. Simeon laughs evilly and MC says Lucifer would be so happy if he knew and Satan – red-faced – says that’s exactly why he doesn’t want Lucifer to know and sighs about how satan still can’t admit to how much he loves Lucifer. Simeon says that it’s a special opportunity considering this particular group don’t get to travel together that often but Mammon still sulks until he’s back on the train and fawning over how good the food is. Luke calls mammon a simpleton for how easily his moods flip-flop (hey???? I take offense to that) and mammon snaps back at him, Luke says since Mammon’s always talking about him like he’s a dog he doesn’t get to complain and Simeon laughs about how close they seem, Satan’s confused by Simeon’s definition of close and MC says you tend to fight more with people you’re closer to (which yeah it’s true for me at least. I’d always argue with someone I’m close to vs someone I just know and they’re never serious arguments either just stupid shit that you can trade friendly-rude barbs over). Luke says he’d never be close with a demon like Mammon and Mammon says for such a small kid Luke’s got a big mouth, Luke bites back and they continue. Simeon tells MC if they thought they could get rest on the train back they’re greatly mistaken cause Simeon was only able to book 4 rooms so two of them will have to share and that immediately stops Luke & Mammon’s argument. MC feels all of their eyes boring into them before they all start volunteering to share a room with MC. Luke suggests they draw straws or play rock-paper-scissors to decide, Mammon suggests cards but Satan says that he can see in Mammon’s eyes that he plans on cheating and an argument breaks out making the others on the train turn to stare at them and this time MC genuinely seems to consider jumping off a moving train instead they command the demons to stay. Simeon says that never stops being funny and Luke says it actually looks painful and ik MC only uses it when things are getting out of hand and they aren’t listening to reason and are causing a scene that can lead to a (usually) public brawl but the command to stay still feels icky to me.

In the corridor MC finds a silent sad looking Simeon and asks him what’s wrong. Simeon tries to deflect it, gets oddly scatter brained about where he put down his tea, says that even though rock-paper-scissors was a fair was to decide he’s disappointed but the look on Mammon & Luke’s faces when they found out they would be sharing was worth it. MC picking up on how all over the place he seems asks if something is bothering him. He says not really but sort of? He says Satan wasn’t the only one impacted by the whole Celestial Realm fever dream and that seeing the brothers as angels again brought back happy memories until he remembered that they aren’t there anymore and that the Celestial Realm is different now which made him depressed. MC hugs them and Simeon says they’re warm and smell comforting before he thanks them he then blushes and says he would like to kiss them and MC gets the chance to either tell him to go ahead or to gently say “No, Simeon…” he understands that there’s someone else and that whoever that is he’s very lucky. He then gives them the star of patience and tells them they’re gonna be an amazing sorcerer. Simeon says he wished he could’ve had MC as a guardian angel and MC goes “wait…do angels even have guardian angels!?” and Simeon says …no. He then wishes them goodnight.

On the way to bed MC hears voices from the roof and goes to check it out only to find the other 3. The three of them are arguing about constellations. Mammon points out Scorpius correctly and calls Orphiuchus next to it the scorpion bearer, Luke says it’s the goat bearer, Mammon says “what even is the difference between scorpions and goats, Satan says they’re both wrong and MC says it’s the serpent bearer. They pull MC down beside them and Luke says Satan was telling them about the seven sisters and asks if they know what it’s called. MC gets to answer. Mammon asks if there’s a seven brother’s constellation and Luke says there is one in the Celestial Realm, with everyone knowing about the legend behind the constellation being about the brothers’ fall. Mammon asks what they’re like and Luke says they’re seven bright stars with three others watching over them. Luke says he doesn’t know what the three stars are supposed to represent and Mammon suggests it might be Michael, Luke says that’d be weird cause Michael only has two eyes so what’s the third one, Mammon suggests it could be like Michael’s nostril or something and I’m in genuine tears over this, my chest hurts from how much I laughed, Luke says that’s stupid and MC who is actually just as stupid as Mammon but who is also much better at hiding it suggest two eyes and a mouth, Luke goes “…heeeeh?” finally realising one of his role models is a dumbass before he starts protesting asking why the two of them are so fixated on it being two eyes, Satan suggests that they might represent demons, angels and humans and luke says that feels right (personally I think they’re Michael, Raphael and Simeon) Mammon suggests the human star would be MC and Satan agrees. (okay so I think the seven brothers stars are completely BS. Why? Because Michael and the angels had no idea Satan existed. Hell even Lucifer didn’t know until Satan was born after they fell. Michael would have had no relationship with Satan, hell they’ve never even met, for him to be sentimental and it makes no sense that a place Satan has never really been to would have a star for him. They would have a star for Lilith though. That makes sense. But the story of Lilith’s death and probably even her existence seems to be very securely hidden away considering even Luke who’s so close with Michael doesn’t seem to know why the brothers fell. The angels wouldn’t have named stars after the brothers immediately after their fall and it would have taken time for them all to heal, reach a place of forgiveness and start to grieve and miss what they’d lost. So I bet by this time, the news that there was a seventh brother had come up and the angels in the know jumped at the chance to use him as a cover story for the seventh star rather than admit a girl was killed over falling in love and then using her powers to heal a human. So yeah. The seven brothers stars feel like utter BS. Seven siblings on the other hand…). Mammon tells Luke to hurry up and get on with it and Luke gives MC the star of generosity. Luke thanks them for everything, saying that though they didn’t find a fairy ring he had fun and made good memories, he then thanks them for always being there for them all.