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janeyseymour · 3 days ago

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Wouldn't Deny That I'm In Love With You

Disclaimer: @schemmentigfs and I both got the same prompt, but decided to both write our own takes on it... so... but also like go read hers because it's a fucking slay.

Summary: You're a sunny art teacher, and you're married to the Abbott grump. No one knows. (requested by @strawberrypink-jellybeans )

WC: ~4.6k

Ms. Y/N. Ms. Schemmenti. Two souls who just so happen to find each other at the school that you both work at. Two souls that just so happen to be married to each other, undetected and unknown by most of the Abbott Elementary staff- aside from Barbara Howard, who doesn’t say much in regard to the topic because she knows of her work wife’s preferences. Two souls who, despite being near polar opposites, have found a love that they each hold near to their hearts.

Five years the two of you have been together. Three of those years, you’ve spent married. Why no one has really caught onto the fact that the tough, take no shit, second grade teacher and the always sunny and radiating joy art teacher are together? You never made a big deal about it, and you probably won’t ever. The only times that the two of you are necessarily together at school is when she brings her students to you for their related arts time. Your lunches and preps don’t line up, and Melissa likes to get to the school early enough to catch the news and prepare for her day while you prefer to lie in bed for longer than you would like to admit. There’s no need for all of glitz and glamour- no, instead, you began dating quietly, and then two years later you made your way down to City Hall with simple rings that had arrived in the mail from Amazon. With Barbara Howard as your witness, the two of you wed in a small conference room in the center of the city that had both of your hearts.

The change of last names never happened. Everyone at Abbott is so used to Melissa being a Schemmenti, and she takes pride in that last name. And you? You wouldn’t have minded being Mrs. Schemmenti, but you did fear that it would confuse some of your younger students. So, you kept your last name too.

And since that beautiful day two years ago, you’ve never been happier. Your sunny disposition only became brighter. And for a bit, Melissa was lighter on her toes before slipping back into the rough and tough teacher she was known to be. And no one ever asked why you began to wear a ring on your left hand- just another addition to the many rings that you tend to wear on a daily basis. The same goes for your wife. So no one at Abbott is aware of the marriage- including your boss, who has glossed over the fact that your paystubs have the same address.

If anybody had ever asked why either of you began wearing rings, you would tell them that you happily got married. And if anyone had asked why Melissa was wearing a new ring, she would tell them that someone finally managed to tie her down. And if they were smart about it, they would’ve known that the two of you are happily married. But you suppose that nobody expects the fiery redhead and the sweet art teacher to really cross paths to begin with.

It’s not like you hide the fact that you’re in a relationship. You really don’t. In all honesty, you wear your heart on your sleeve, and outside of school, everyone knows that you are happily married. You have your regular spots for dinner and coffee, her family absolutely adores you, and your family has made it quite clear that if you were to divorce Melissa, they would take her side in the matter.

Outside of school, those who know that the two of you are together know just how in love the two of you are. You’re not afraid to tell people how you love her- grumpiness and all.

Even your families are slightly attune to the fact that your wife isn’t always the badass bitch she pretends to be. They watch the way she tends to be with you, how you have this magical presence about you that eases everybody, but especially Melissa. They see how she holds you tenderly and how you are at such an ease with her, and you’re usually at ease to begin with.

But you know that there’s a time and a place to bring out the softness of your redheaded angel. And school is not necessarily the time or the place. Well, until…

It’s a Thursday morning when Melissa slams her fist into her alarm clock with a bit more force than she usually would that you know today is going to be a day where your phone just constantly goes off because you need to help keep your wife from committing arson.

After yesterday, you have a feeling that today is going to be a shit show for your wife. You’re quite thankful that you don’t have to deal with parents very often after you hear some of the horrors your wife has gone through.

When you expect her to roll out of bed to get into the shower, she doesn’t. She simply tightens her hold on you and kisses your neck.

“Hun,” you chuckle softly. “Babe.”

“Don’t wanna go to work today,” Melissa mumbles into the crook of your neck. “Don’t make me.”

You chuckle lowly. “You don’t have to, Lis. But I am going.”

“Stay with me,” your wife whines. “C’mon. We never take a day.”

“I can lay with you until it’s time for me to get up, but you know how excited I am to start this unit with the kiddos,” you tell her.

She groans at your insistence. “I guess I’ll take what I can get.”

Her laying with you only lasts a few minutes longer before she huffs and throws the covers off of her body. “If I go to work today, will you at least come shower with me?”

With a giggle, you follow her into the bathroom.

You think that maybe with the way she left the house this morning while you finished up your makeup and getting ready, her mood would be slightly better than it would’ve been had you not had sex in the shower.

But on your drive to work, you get a call from Melissa, and you know that nothing good can come from a call from her this early.

“What’s up, babe?” you answer brightly.

“I’m going to commit a crime,” your wife huffs into the phone.

You sigh deeply. “No, you are not,” you tell her firmly. “What happened?”

The redhead proceeds to tell you about the terrible email that a certain parent had sent her last night, claiming that she was the worst teacher in the greater Philadelphia area and that she was going to sue.

“I doubt that she’ll do that, and you know you are a great teacher,” you attempt to calm the fired up woman.

“I’m going to commit a crime for a different reason,” Melissa tells you.

“And that would be?”

“She left a voicemail on my phone and called me a dyke.”

That was probably the last thing that you expected your wife to say, and your heart breaks in your chest. You know that particular word brings up quite a few things for the redhead from her past, and you can’t say you’re fond of that slur either.

“My love,” you make your voice as warm and as calm as you possibly can. “I’m sorry. What do you need right now? Comfort, or a solution?”

“Both.”

“Well, my comfort solution right now is that I’m about five minutes from school, so you can head to my classroom and wait for me there. And my solution solution would be to go to Ava with the email and the voicemail and see what she has to say about it.”

You hear a soft hum come from Melissa as she debates which one she should do.

“Or, you can come to my classroom, and when I get there, we can go together.”

Melissa doesn’t end up doing any of those things. Of course she doesn’t. She stays on the phone with you until you get to your place of employment, but then she claims that she’s fine and doesn’t need to come to your classroom and she can handle the situation on her own.

And that solution is for her to simply simmer in her classroom- she doesn’t want to bother you when she knows that you have so much to prepare for today.

When the kiddos begin to trickle in, you’re upstairs in your classroom while Melissa stands by her door and tries to smile as her students greet her.

That’s when the parent comes in. She comes in with a fire and storms right up to your wife.

“The hell do you think you are?” the mother gets right in the redhead’s face. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Ma’am,” Melissa says, scarily calm. “Now is not the time or the place. If you wish to speak to me after school, I would be more than happy to do so with my boss present.”

“I think here is a great place, and now is the time! Because I won’t have time to have a conversation with you at the end of the school day! I have to get my daughter home and ready for gymnastics! Not like you would know anything about that, fuckin’ pathetic, childless fag.” The woman ends up screaming in your wife’s face because of a note that was sent home in regards to her daughter’s behavior the previous day. She ends up getting so close to Melissa that she can smell the booze in her breath- at 7:30 in the morning.

To the second grade teacher’s credit, she remains eerily calm the entire time. The only signal that she is getting angrier is that her fists clench and uncurl every so often. And because of this, Barbara Howard does not get involved. Instead, the kindergarten teacher greets her students while keeping a careful eye on her work wife and makes a mental note to text you a warning about your wife’s attitude when you see her later today.

Unfortunately, kindergarteners always keep the woman of God on her toes, and that text doesn’t get sent until you’re already in the middle of teaching your sixth graders.

A parent came in here raging at your wife. Lay’s mom.

She sent Lis a nasty email last night too… Should I come check on her?

I’m already sending her up. Having Janine watch her class as we speak.

Thank you.

Good luck.

You can hear your wife before you see her appear in the doorway, her heels clicking on the tile in a way where you know she’s pissed. And then her face is in front of you, and you can see how pissed she is.

“Hey,” you smile warmly at your wife. “Just give me a second to get the kids set up, and then-”

“Why did Barb send me up here?” Melissa bites out. “I don’t have time for this, Ms. Y/N.”

A few of your students look to the feisty second grade teacher with what you can only describe as a scowl. She’s speaking to you, the sweet and sunny art teacher, in such a bitter way.

You just give her a look that tells her to simmer down before turning back to your students. Some of them are waving at her, as she was their second grade teacher, but most of them just look confused that she’s up here when second grade doesn’t have their special until the end of the day, and she’s here on her own. You give them their instruction and ask them to do it quietly while you speak with Miss Schemmenti. Being a good group of students, they all take out their sketchbooks and begin to work. So, you step into the hall and crack your door.

“Lis,” you sigh quietly once you have privacy.

“‘m. fine,” your wife grits out. “Don’ even know why Barb sent me up here.”

“Because it’s clear you’re pissed, and that woman was yelling in your face.”

“And?” the redhead challenges. “I handled it fine. Didn’t even start cursing in Italian when I went into my classroom. I don’ need Barb, or you, acting like I’m gonna fly off the handle at every little thing. I don’ need it.”

“Lis.” You raise a brow and hug your arms around your body. “C’mon. We’re just looking out for you because we love you.”

“And I can handle it on my own.”

You frown, but nod. “Okay, hun. If you say so. But just know, I’m always here for you.”

Your wife just gives you a look that is clearly asking if you have anything else to say, or if she can go.

“Okay, babe,” you sigh. “I’m sorry she sent you up here, but we’re just looking out for you and making sure you’re okay. We love you, you know.”

The redhead finally begins to soften up a little. “I know.”

“Good.” You reach a hand out and squeeze hers gently before dropping it between the two of you. “I’ll see you when you bring your kiddos up for art?”

“Yeah,” the redhead sighs.

“And then tonight, we can just relax, yeah?”

She nods.

“I love you, Lis.”

“I love you too,” Melissa whispers back. She turns her head both ways to see if any students are wandering the hall, and for once there aren’t any stragglers. So, she leans in for a quick kiss- one that you reciprocate. And then she’s off down the hallways, heels still clanking against the tile, but slightly less aggressively. You can’t help but watch her figure as she goes before turning back into your classroom.

What the two of you weren’t aware of is that one of your students had gotten up to ask if she could use the restroom, and she saw the two of you kiss.

The class is whispering rapidly when you walk in, but you don’t really mind. You had given them an easy assignment, and it was simply to draw how they were feeling today. You knew it wouldn’t take much time, and you were prepared to walk back into your classroom to a more chaotic situation than you had. What you don’t know is that they were already whispering about you and Melissa. They go quiet as you walk back into the room.

Your smile is warm and your eyes are soft as you continue class with a grateful thank you for their patience and behavior.

By the time their teacher comes to pick them up, the word has spread like a wildfire- or a Schemmenti-made fire. They took to texting their friends while you gave them time to work on their sculptures with the option of listening to music on their phones.

But you are blissfully unaware of the rumors circulating about you and the second grade teacher you call your wife, so you send them off with a smile. When your next group comes in, those kids are well-behaved, albeit a bit chatty. You don’t tend to listen in on their conversations, so you don’t know that they’re speaking about you. You don’t miss the way some of them look at you, but you suppose that maybe they just aren’t fond of this outfit today. Still, you maintain your positive and bright disposition throughout the class period.

When your prep period comes around, you feel as though you’re in a good spot to be. So, you settle at your desk with a light snack and your phone.

I hope your day got better, you text Melissa.

Her response comes a bit later, as you’re thumbing through a few papers. Yeah. Got a few visitors from past years swinging by the room too, which is nice. Reminds me that I’m a good teacher.

Neither of you are aware that her former students are stopping by to get a look at her- as if they can see if the rumor is true or not by simply looking at her.

You are, you reply. I’m glad your day got better.

Thanks sunshine.

You smile dreamily at her words.

Come lunch, word about the two of you dating has gone through the school. Even most of the teachers are aware of the rumor- but you’re upstairs in your own little bubble, and everybody has seen the mood that your wife is in, so no one says anything. Not even Jacob, who is known for his curiosity, says anything. The lunch room is eerily quiet, and Melissa can’t say she’s unhappy about it. After chaos in her classroom, the redhead welcomes the calm eagerly.

Your last class to come by today is your wife’s. You’re standing outside of your classroom waiting for them when you see her marching her students down. She clearly seems to be in a better mood, and for that you are thankful. A grumpy Melissa at home is not a fun Melissa.

“Hello, Ms. Schemmenti!” you singsong, and your heart fills when she gives you a smile she usually reserves for you at home.

“Ms. Y/N,” the second grade teacher chuckles. She smirks. “My little eagles have been talking about how they’re so excited to see you today.”

You grin brightly at the kids lined up at your door. “How sweet,” you coo, and you ruffle Rakeem’s hair gently. “C’mon in, find your seats, and pull out your sketchbooks for me, okay?”

They file their way in, and you take the opportunity to look at your wife in all of her beauty for a few seconds. “Better day?”

“Better day,” Melissa sighs quietly. “And I talked to Ava about that situation, and she’s surprisingly willing to help me out.”

“Say what you want about Ava,” you chuckle. “But she does her job sufficiently.”

The redhead rolls her eyes and shrugs, and all you can do is smirk. “Have a good prep period, hun.”

“Have fun with my monsters.”

You turn into the room with a dopey lovesick smile on your face before you begin your last lesson of the day.

The second grade teacher is all caught up on her work, and she doesn’t really have much else to discuss with Janine in terms of curriculum, so Melissa makes her way up the stairs about ten minutes early.

You’re fully immersed in your teaching when she comes by, and all she can do is lean against the doorframe and watch you work your magic. It’s… definitely a different approach from her own teaching style, but you thrive. You’re easily one of the best teachers at Abbott, and your wife knows that- she tells you constantly.

You don’t even notice that she’s standing there, until you notice that your students are maybe not as engaged as they usually are with you.

“My loves,” you sigh softly, but the smile on your face is still present. “I do wish you would stay with me so you know what we’ll be doing next class.”

“C’mon, my little eagles,” Melissa scolds them gently. “You gotta listen to-”

“Am I running late?” you turn on your heel and look at Melissa.

She shakes her head. “Just had a few extra minutes. Thought I’d see what my favorite students are up to with one of their favorite teachers.”

“Oh,” you ease up immediately. “Well, come on in, Mel- Ms. Schemmenti.”

The redhead takes an empty stool and watches as you teach for the last few minutes. The students look between the two of you the entire time.

When there are a few minutes left of class, you ask the children if they have any questions- and you should’ve been specific in asking if they had any questions about the future of their art projects. Immediately, almost every student’s hand goes up.

You frown just slightly. “Was I not clear enough with my instruction?” you mumble to yourself. You thought you had been quite clear with the next steps and expectations. “Yes, Angel?”

“Are you and Ms. Schemmenti dating?”

You give a blank stare, and then your brows creep up your forehead. “What?”

“Are you and Ms. Schemmenti dating?” she repeats.

You glance to your wife, and she just gives you a look that states you can say whatever you want. With a nod of her head, you take a deep breath.

“Where did this come from?” you inquire.

This time, Malia speaks up. “My older brother saw you and Ms. Schemmenti this morning in the hallway kissing.”

“Wh-” Melissa gasps out. “That-”

“He said that Ms. Schemmenti came up during his class, and when he got up to ask to go to the bathroom he saw her kiss you.”

You bite your lip. “Well, that rumor is not true.”

The class gives a collective sigh, and you allow them to believe what you said before you smile.

“Because actually… Ms. Schemmenti and I are married.” You hold up your left hand and wiggle your ring finger. The students’ eyes go from you to your wife, who is also holding up her left hand with a smirk.

The frowns and sad sighs quickly turn into wide eyes, mouths agape, big smiles, and cheers. Questions are flying at you a million miles a minute, and you can’t help but chuckle. Instead of trying to answer them over the chaos in your room, you simply make your way over to the redhead and drape an arm around her shoulder while you wait for them to get their excitement out. It takes a minute for their shock to die down and for you to wrangle their attention again.

“Ms. Schemmenti and I are married; have been for three years,” you chuckle. “Yes, Sweet Cheeks comes home with us over the summers. Sometimes we go out for dinner, but mostly we just stay in and cook. Our house has a front porch with a garden in the back. No, we don’t usually come to work together.”

“H-how?!” one of the kids stammers out.

You go to say more, but your wife just holds up a hand to signal them to stop bombarding the two of you with questions. “My little eagles, we have to get back to our classroom if we want to get to dismissal on time. So, line up. C’mon.”

Dismissal is much more hectic than usual. You’re standing outside at your duty while Melissa sees that all of her students get to the right places, and word travels fast. You have students and their parents coming up to the both of you praising you for ‘having the courage’ to come out. Others can’t believe that the hard ass and the personification of sunshine are married. But almost everybody is smiles at the confirmation that the two of you are a happy couple.

Well, all except that one parent. She comes up, guns a-blazing to you. She begins to scream in your face, calling you all sorts of derogatory names. She’s… you’re becoming increasingly nervous.

Thankfully, Melissa is able to dismiss the rest of her students and comes to your rescue. So does Ava. While Ava tries to get her to walk away without causing any more of a scene than what was already created, your wife is pissed.

“You can talk to me however you want,” Melissa hisses at the woman, pointing a finger in the woman’s face. “You can say whatever the hell you want about me. But you do not speak to my wife like that. Nope, and if you keep goin’… you don’t know who you’re-”

“Lis,” you tug her back by the arm gently. “Just… let her go. Ava will handle it.”

She shoots you an incredulous look. How are you so calm about this? But because you give her a look that tells her it’s not worth it, she backs down. She continues to glare at the woman as she’s pulled away by another parent and the principal.

The redhead just wraps an arm around you, holding you close for the rest of dismissal. She doesn’t care anymore- the entire school knows that the two of you are together at this point. And if they didn’t witness the events that had just taken place, the two of you know word travels fast in this school- everyone would know by tomorrow morning anyway.

One more parent approaches you with their child, and Melissa looks like she’s ready to fight if someone else says one more negative thing about your relationship.

“I- I saw what happened,” the mother states quietly. “And I just want you to know… she’s on her own in that mindset. The rest of us are quite happy to have the two of you at Abbott, your relationship aside. And, if the two of you are happy, that’s nobody’s business but your own.”

You give this mother a soft smile and a thank you for her words.

After dismissal, you don’t go into the staff lounge to grab your lunch bag- you’ll wait to get it tomorrow. No. You just want to go home and relax after the last hour of your day. Melissa texts you to let you know that she doesn’t plan on sticking around today either- she’ll meet you at home as soon as she can. So, you quietly slip out of the school once teacher hours are over.

At home, you’re just pouring two glasses of wine as your wife comes in and kicks off her shoes. Her arms are instantly around your waist and kissing you softly. You giggle in her hold.

“Hey, babe,” you smile against her lips.

She just kisses you again, murmuring, “My beautiful wife.”

“Do you want to talk about today?” you ask as you pull away and offer her the wine glass meant for her.

Where you think the redhead is going to go back to raging, she just shrugs. “Ava already pulled me aside and told me that she has our backs. She ain’t gonna let this parent ruin it all- somehow she’s already in the process of moving the kid to Janine’s class, as much as I’ll hate to see Lay out of my class.”

“It’s probably for the best,” you sigh quietly.

Melissa nods with a frown. “And instead of taking art, she’ll go with the gym teacher twice a cycle… Mom’s a real homophobe and doesn’t want us ‘rubbing in the gay’. Whatever the hell that means.”

You roll your eyes. “A real piece of work.”

“That’s the understatement of the year.”

“Well?” you ask as you take a sip of your own wine. “How do you feel about us being out at school?”

“It was only a matter of time,” your wife tells you with a small shrug and a smile. “I don’ care if everyone knows, although I’m not looking forward to the line of questioning I’ll get from Pipsqueak and her sidekick tomorrow morning.”

“Why don’t we go into work together tomorrow, and I’ll help you out with that?” you tease.

“You’d wake up early for me?”

“You know I would,” you chuckle.

The next morning, Melissa drives the two of you to your place of work, and you walk into the staff lounge hand in hand. Almost immediately, her work crew- aside from Barbara- are bombarding you with questions.

You do everything you can to answer them, until Jacob asks, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Melissa just smirks. “Youse didn’t ask. Had you, I would’ve told you I was happily married to Y/N three years ago. It’s not like I deny that I’m in love with her.”

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#abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic #melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you

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lovscb97 · 2 days ago

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tags: nerd!bang chan x cheerleader!fem!reader, inexperienced chan, experienced reader, kissing, slight corruption kink, kinda toxic relationship, oral sex (f. receiving), face-sitting, exhibitionism lowkey (they’re in a locker room), nicknames (channie, baby, pretty boy), angst kinda?, porn with some plot, etc

wc: 2.06k

add. notes: these previews kilt me. they Kilt Me. therefore i present to u face-sitting with nerd chan. it's not entirely pwp but enjoy anyways :3

. . .

you’re not quite sure how you got here, honestly. one moment, you’re out at cheer practice with your girls, doing complicated stunts and diligently rehearsing the rigorous routines outlined for the upcoming game, all with your coach blowing her whistle every other minute of course. but the next?

you’re in a stuffy locker room making out with the captain of the mathletes team as he pants against your mouth, begging you for more.

it started off with a simple favour— you needed somebody to help you get your grades up after missing one too many classes, and chan was the best in the year; naturally, you asked for his assistance. he’d gone wide in the eyes and red in the face when you’d walked up to him after your shared lecture, leaving you biting back a laugh at the way he stuttered over his words over the prospect of teaching you, even refusing at first. to your fortunate pleasure however, you convinced him to agree in the end, which is how you ended up at your first session in his house, crammed together on his childhood bed and eyeing the walls of his room littered with spelling bee awards and academic medals from various competitions.

somehow down the line of those little sessions, you and chan grew closer, bonding over your shared love for movies and hidden local diners in your city, and the first time you hung out with him outside of the guise of studying at those very local diners, you found yourselves grinding against each other in the backseat of his beatdown car. you still remember the way he fumbled over himself, red ears burning and big doe eyes blinking up at you as you kissed him, albeit awkward with his lack of expertise but still sweet in the way he held you close to him. you suppose that’s where your little ‘sessions’ turned into a special type of studying, and where this charade began to unfold as your dirty secret.

which brings you back to now.

“need.. need you.” chan huffs, pulling away momentarily from messily locking his lips with yours as you breathe heavily against him. you blink for a moment as if processing his words, and a cheeky smile spreads across your face slowly as you take in his disheveled hair and blown out features. “yeah? what do you need, pretty boy?” you tease, trailing a single finger across his pale skin to trace the outline of his collarbone, feeling him shiver under your touch as a low whine escapes his mouth.

“need to taste you.” he mumbles shyly, and you coo at the way he hangs his head low as if he’s embarrassed to admit it, hooking a finger under his chin to get a look at his slightly teary eyes. when they finally make contact with yours, you can’t help but smile softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips that has your insides positively melting.

sometimes you realise that despite his enthusiasm in engaging with you, chan is just a soft-spoken boy. he’s so untouched and pure that it makes you want to absolutely break him, to taint that perfect image he’s put on and quite literally corrupt him to become your toy. amidst that realisation, it also dawns on you that one day he’ll come to terms with the fact that this isn’t what he deserves, that this isn’t how he should be enjoying his firsts with someone who doesn’t even have the nerve to commit to him and how he’ll move on sooner or later to find somebody better that can give him what he wants without needing to hide it. the mere thought of it always leaves your stomach swirling in bitterness and disgust, but you swallow the lump it creates at the back of your throat because those are feelings you’re yet not ready to confront, and for now, if this is what you can have, then this is what you’ll take.

“and how do you want me?” you ask lowly, taking chan’s hand in yours and placing it on your waist, feeling the way he bunches up the fabric of your cheer outfit in his palm. “tell me.” you murmur. “tell me and i’ll give it all to you.”

“want you to sit my face.” he gasps out, hooded eyes staring at you as the words leave his mouth, and suddenly all your self restraint is snapping in half. before you know it, you’re yanking him by the collar of his brown jacket, smashing your lips together once more and swallowing the squeak of surprise that leaves him. the kiss is desperate, and wet, and sloppy, but neither of you care about it or the fact that anyone could walk in and see you both, far too lost in each other to give much of a damn.

“get on the bench.” you demand once you’ve retracted yourself from him, chan’s wide pupils searching yours to see if you’re serious. when you don’t say anything or move, he’s immediately scrambling for his balance and toppling back onto the wooden structure, drawing a small giggle from you that has his insides tightening and jeans straining.

“wait!” he blurts out as you move to hook your fingers into your skirt, swallowing when you raise an eyebrow at him. “keep it on.” he whispers, and you swear your heart stops beating right then and there. you nod slowly after a while in understanding, because that’s all you fear you can manage without actually jumping his bones in that moment.

“lay on your back.” you quietly instruct, and chan eagerly follows like a puppy taking orders from its owner. he yelps when his snapback falls off his head at the angle he’s at, but you’re quick to catch it, pushing it back onto his curls with a wink as you straddle his face. “keep it on.” you mimic his words from earlier, chuckling at the way his cheeks flush pink at your response because by god, he was far too cute for his own good.

“wait a minute,” chan’s eyes widen when he at last focuses his attention on you and gets a glimpse of your drenched core. “were you.. were you not wearing anything under your skirt?” he questions cautiously, nearly choking when you merely shrug. “i like easy access.” a devious smirk journeys across your face when you answer him, and chan has to bite back a moan at the idea of you parading around commando all day. his imagination doesn’t get the chance to run too wild, because by the time he can even register what’s happening, you’re already lowering yourself onto his awaiting mouth, groans leaving the two of you at the fact that you’re both finally, finally getting what you’ve been waiting for all day.

“fuck,” chan curses into you, and you hiss at the way his words rumble deep in his chest and travel through your core. “fuck, fuck, fuck.” he breathes out once more, swiping through your folds hysterically as your taste invades his senses. you’re everywhere, in his mind, his mouth, even his soul, especially from the way you begin to slowly rock yourself back and forth on his wet muscle. he swears he might die a happy man today when he feels your thighs smothering him on each side, hands moving up to grip the plush of them before he’s sticking his tongue out and letting you ride it.

“how are you so good at this?” you laugh to yourself in disbelief, biting your lip at the way his nose bumps against your clit perfectly each time he lets you move yourself against him. chan merely grunts in response, too engrossed in eating you out to even answer, and when he pulls you down to suck on your swollen bundle of nerves, you swear you see stars. the only thing heard in the isolated locker room you’re currently going at it in by now are the lewd slurps coming from his mouth along with your whimpers, which only get higher in pitch the more he continues to eat at you.

“so damn good.” chan keens. “so fucking wet, and sweet too.” his words only spur you on further, and before you know it, the telltale signs of your orgasm are creeping up on you. chan shows no signs of stopping though, his hands gripping your thighs hard enough to leave bruises and pulling you impossibly further down on his mouth to the point you feel like you actually might suffocate him. he doesn’t care, of course, he’d die a happy man to be smothered by your perfect cunt.

“channie, baby, wait.” you cry out softly when he envelops your engorged nub in his mouth and laves his tongue over it repeatedly, moaning obscenely against your pussy. “‘m gonna cum if you do that, wait, wait.” chan in fact does not wait, only speeding up his movements and continuing to lick at you until you’re shaking through the familiar waves of pleasure, a silent scream falling from your lips as you spray warm and wet on his tongue. it drips down his chin and your inner thighs, but neither of you care with you buzzing in overstimulation from the way chan continues to suck at you through the shocks, and him with you cumming on his tongue so pretty.

by the time you’re done, he’s still going at it, and it takes you gripping his hair and weakly standing up from his mouth to get chan to finally stop. when you look down at him from your awkward position, the lower half of his face glistens back at you, his plump lips and pretty features wet with your arousal and juices, prompting you to bite back a moan. you swing your leg over and shakily stand, petting your skirt down to get rid of the creases as chan sits up, still looking like he ascended to another dimensional plane. he’s rock hard in his boxers by now, cock painfully straining against his jeans, but he can’t find it in himself to get you to help him out.

“well,” you clear your throat after a moment of silence. “i should get going.” chan’s heart sinks in his chest at your words, and it must show in his expression too because you can’t seem to meet his eyes with the way your gaze stays locked on your twiddling fingers. “they’re probably wondering where i’ve been, so..” you trail off, trying to find a way to excuse yourself despite your mind screaming at you to do otherwise.

“yeah.” chan curses internally at the way his voice cracks. “yeah, you should go.” the sentence comes out more bitter than he intends it to, but he can’t help it. a part of him wants you to feel guilty for just up and leaving without even delving into what this is, what it could mean and become if you just allowed yourself to let it do so, but he’s come to learn that he just can’t expect that from you at this point. so, he doesn’t, instead choosing to wave bye as you sheepishly make your way outside the locker room to the field. once you’re out of sight, he sighs heavily, covering his face with his hands before flopping back down on the bench, his mind racing with thoughts.

because the simple fact is that chan knows. he knows you’re oh so out of his league, and you would’ve been miles away from his reach either way had it not been for the fact that you stopped him one random thursday afternoon to ask if he could help you out in economics 101. and yet, a part of him still longs for you, longs for your presence and the way you bat your eyelashes at him when he scolds you for getting a question wrong. he longs for the way your perfume wafts in his direction when you pass him in the hallways, ignoring his existence like you both weren’t tangled up in each other’s embrace the night before. even though his heart hurts so painfully, even though his friends all say you’re bad for him, even though he knows himself how bad you are for him, he doesn’t care.

for him, it’s always going to be you.

. . .

comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3

#✰ sunny's oneshots!#skz smut #stray kids smut #skz angst #stray kids angst #bangchan smut #bangchan angst #bangchan x reader #bang chan smut #bang chan x you

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hoffmansgirl · 2 days ago

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greedy for love. ━ nicholas a. chavez

now playing: greedy by ariana grande 𓇼

𓏸𓈒 author's note. based off this request!! nicholas is so fucking big istg i need him to ruin my life... anyways, enjoy! feedback is deeply appreciated ♡

.ᐟ warnings. smut! minors dni. size kink, fingering, choking, slapping/spanking, dirty talk, unprotected piv, so much praiseeeeee, public sex | wc. 1285

"i can't", she cried out, eyes closing involuntarily as nicholas towered over her, long fingers disappearing into her cunt over and over again.

and she could barely take it. her back arched into his hard chest, one of his big hands holding her leg up to rest against his upper thigh.

"need to get you nice and ready for me, yeah?" nicholas murmured and thrusted his hand upwards, y/n's walls tight and wet around him. his fingers curled inside of her, causing her to cry out, head lulling back to rest against the wall as her vision went white. y/n tugged at his shirt, silently begging for more, and he tutted quietly, slowing his movements, the palm of his hand pressing against her clit with purpose. "do you think you deserve to cum, doll?" he asked, spreading his fingers against her walls, and she wailed, the line between pleasure and pain blurring with every passing second. y/n nodded her head, eyes snapping open to look at him, his eyes dark and dangerous as he towered over her.

"'been so good for you, nick", she cried out as he removed his fingers, licking them clean, groan leaving his mouth at the sweet taste of her.

"i know you were. but i want you on my cock, okay?" nicholas unbuttoned his pants in a second and they fell on the floor along with his boxers. cock leaking and ready, and y/n whined desperately, eyes widening at the size of him. no matter how many times they had sex, his size never failed to impress her.

nicholas was quick to lift her up with one arm, her back tight against the wall as he guided his cock to her cunt. they both moaned as he swiped his tip along y/n's puffy clit, teasing her entrance in the process. she whined, hips wriggling as she tried to lower herself onto his cock.

"beg for it." he simply said, smirk appearing on his face at her desperation, taking in the sight before him. he dipped into her, only the tip, the stretch making her lightheaded.

"nick, please", she cried out, clinging to his arms, the line between pain and pleasure blurring, tears brimming in her eyes. "i can't-"

"oh yes, you fucking can, baby", he chuckled darkly, the tightness of her cunt on his thick tip making it hard to control himself. she cried out, and nicholas was quick to put his hand on her mouth to shut her down. there was no need for him to hold her up anymore; she was pressed against the wall behind her, his body pinning her own tightly.

"so fucking tight", he hissed through gritted teeth, and pushed his hips forward; only half of him was inside of her, but she felt so full already. her eyes rolled back, the sensation of his big hand on her face making the experience even more pleasurable. her nails were scratching on his hard, muscular chest, drawing blood in the process. "this pretty little pussy was made for my cock, yeah?".

she tried to nod, but the sensation of his cock throbbing inside of her made it hard for her to breathe, any thought leaving her head. his hips snapped forward once more, burying his cock fully into her tight pussy, and his head fell back at the feeling. she squeezed him so hard, and she was so wet and welcoming; he grinded his hips against hers, and smirked when she let out a squeal.

"nick, i- you're so big", she hiccuped, body trying to adapt to his cock filling her. "'s too much, baby, please".

she had no idea what she was asking for; whether she wanted him to stop or to fuck her raw. nicholas grinned; hand leaving her mouth as he took a tight hold on her hips, beginning to move his hips; thrusting slowly but steadily, making sure she could feel all of him with his every move.

"you always take me so good, doll", he praised, and she shivered, eyes rolling back into her head when his tip kissed her g-spot over and over again. "i fucking love your tight little pussy. squeezin' me so well", he groaned, the veins in his arms popping out when he tried to hold her still. you moaned, eyes snapping open when he sped up, obscene sounds of his skin meeting hers echoing through the bathroom. nicholas' hands travelled up her body, tracing over her curves delicately ━ a contrast to his rough and deep thrusts. they met her lower stomach, and he could feel the slight bulge when he forced his cock into her. "feel that, baby?", he asked, pressing on it; causing his cock to slip out of her cunt. she whined, hands finding his arms, tracing over the muscles there; the feeling of his soft skin under her fingertips made her let out a moan. "feel how deep i'm inside you? fuck, i'm practically ruining you", he rasped, voice desperate, any ounce of self control leaving his body. she nodded, meeting his dark eyes as his hand found her neck. he pressed on it tightly, and she tried to gasp; not a sound left her mouth as he cut her airflow. he groaned, thrusts going erratic as he felt his orgasm nearing. she closed her eyes, the band in her stomach ready to snap anytime now ━ but before she could fall over the edge, she felt nicholas' hand slapping her cheek, his thrusts slowing.

she moaned at the sting on her cheek. "look at me. if you wanna cum, you gotta keep those pretty eyes of yours on me, alright?", he asked, hair falling onto his flushed face, and y/n nodded, unable to speak with one of his hands still around her throat.

"i'm gonna fill you up like a whore", he groaned, letting go of her neck; she gasped for air, clinging on to him when he sped up again.

his hands landed on her ass, spanking it every now and then; then kneading the burning skin there soothingly.

his thrusts became sloppy and imprecise as he felt himself getting close. "beg for my cum, bitch", he inhaled sharply as she arched her back, the slight change of angle making her see stars.

"nick, please- fuck, cum inside me. i fucking need it, so bad", she cried out, and he hummed, satisfied.

"cum with me, doll", he kneaded the skin of her boobs teasingly, lowering his head to catch her lips with his own.

nicholas tugged at her nipple roughly, and that did it for her. she cried out into his mouth, not caring about the award show going on behind the bathroom doors anymore; her orgasm washing over her, whole body shaking as she clenched around him, hard.

he groaned, the tightness of her cunt making it almost impossible for him to move; his hips grinded against her own, his mind going blank as he shot his load deep inside her womb.

"fuck, yes, take it all", he hissed, head falling against her shoulder as he came down from his high. she wrapped her legs and arms around him as he thrusted into her lazily, making sure not a drop of his cum left her pussy.

"good girl. you did so good for me", he cooed, pressing a soft kiss against her shoulder, chuckle leaving his mouth at the sight of her messy hair and makeup.

she snuggled into his chest, forgetting that they were on an award ceremony; for a second it was just them, no flashing lights of the cameras, no loud music and no judging eyes. nicholas smiled at the thought, pressing a loving kiss onto the girl's forehead.

hoffmansgirl 2024 © | nicholas chavez masterlist ♡

#nicholas chavez #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas chavez smut #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas alexander chavez smut #charlie mayhew #charlie mayhew smut #charlie mayhew x reader

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iichfilwypj · 3 days ago

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take me home | percy jackson

ღ percy jackson x daughter of hypnos! reader ღ warnings: none! pure fluff ღ wc: 832 i tried to make it shorter sorry :( pt 1 - pt 3 - pt 4

The dining hall was especially… noisy.

By next week, many campers would be heading home, and everyone was excited. She wasn’t happy about it; with no one to return to, she planned to stay at camp alone and sleep—just sleep.

“What? I’d win!” she sat beside Percy at his table, engaged in a silly conversation. His confidence to defeat Superman was stupid; he was aware of how unlikely his victory was, but he remained stubborn.

“Percy, he can fly. You can’t walk a straight line!”

“I can swim.” she burst out laughing. It echoed through the dining hall, drawing a few amused glances from other campers.

Percy glanced at her, a grin creeping onto his face that he tried to suppress by frowning his eyebrows. He couldn’t let himself be exposed.

Did he think he’d win against Superman? No, that man would wipe the floor with him. But she was laughing, so he wouldn’t mind coming up with more arguments.

You'd think that the stronger your feelings grow for someone, especially if it's your best friend, the further you’d distance yourself.

What's the point of getting your hopes up?

Well, that was not Percy’s case. Ever since what happened last week in his cabin, he couldn’t manage to stay away from her. He made it his responsibility to wake her up, help during her tasks, and ensure she got enough sleep. He chatted with her, made plans, and even shared naps with her. He was sure he had managed to get at least fifteen hours more of sleep than he usually did.

It didn’t matter, nothing did. He just wanted to be with her.

But he had started to grow desperate. The desire to be with her had escalated into a need he couldn't ignore. And he was exhausted from holding back. ‘You have to tell her!’ his friends insisted, but how? The idea of confessing made him sick.

‘Hey, I’m in love with you. Wanna be my girlfriend?’ Yeah, no, that is cringe.

“Beth could totally beat Superman” the sweet voice of his friend jolted him from his thoughts. The dining was now empty, and the silence was a bit scary. “She’s very stro-”

“Do you wanna come home?” he stammered, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. His mouth fell open, his eyes wide open.

OMG? WHAT THE FUCK PERCY!

“What?” she asked, also confused. He stood quiet, not wanting to look at her.

Weird, considering it was the only thing he wanted to do lately.

“Not any home. To my house, during the holidays.” he dared to say. She was silent; did he overstep?, was it too soon? “I don’t want you to be alone, and I’m sure my mom would love to meet you. You can say no if-”

“Ocean breath” he immediately stopped talking, examining her features for any hint of rejection or disapproval. What he found in her eyes was something that resembled gratitude, fondness –he wouldn’t dare to say love yet. They were glossy, and while she wiped them, he wished it was just because of her tiredness. “I would love to.”

NOT A CHANCE! She said yes! And not only yes, she said she’d love to!

“Oh, cool” he couldn't find any more words. His heart raced, and a smile settled on his lips, the joy he felt was something he had never experienced before.

She leaned her body against his side, eyes closing and letting out a soft sigh. However, he couldn’t stop himself from making a joke.

“You'll have to sleep on the balcony. You know, safety reasons. A stranger in my house? Pff, what a scandal!”

“Oh, cool” she mocked him, and he nudged her in the side.

Percy leaned his head against her shoulder, and softly rubbed her back, knowing she loved that. A few seconds later, soft snores could be heard, and her head would have hit the table if he hadn’t caught her. He leaned her head onto his shoulder now, before leaving a small kiss on her temple.

He closed his eyes. For a moment, he was sure this was what heaven felt like.

hi hi hi! :) i'm very bored, please recommend me books! love u all, have a pretty day.

#percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackon and the olympians #fanfic #percy jackson x y/n #percy pjo

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endereies · 17 hours ago

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THOUGHT YOU WERE MINE - CS

No Nut November - Day 5

NNN Masterlist...

-➤ When Chris was finally ready for a relationship with you, it was too late

Your situation with Chris was complicated to say the least. You had been running around with his for the past few months, sneaking off during parties and events. You loved the risk between getting caught with someone who was only meant to be your best friend. But it never stayed that way.

At first you sought out Chris’ attention in the midst of a drunken decision, yet as time went on, you found yourself seeking his frame in the crowd as soon as you arrived. It was stupid, you were aware of that. Chris never did commitment, that he made clear. Countless conversations spiralled around the idea if you two and what you both wanted.

You had thought you could escape the pain of falling for someone you couldn’t have. As soon as your heart clenched when he complimented you, you knew it was over. That feeling only grew and even if in the moment you felt like the only girl he’d ever look at, it was a lie. It didn’t help that when you snuck off with him, it wasn’t always for sex. Occasionally you’d find his hand tangled in yours while the concrete steps lay below you. Sounds of the party called the pair of you back. You always ignored it.

He'd steal the odd kiss from you, in front of people and never batted an eye. The two of you would be dragged into the stage by the other to your favourite songs and you never care how you looked when you were with him.

Those moments made him question how he felt about you, seeing your vibrant smile as you danced with your friends. Or the way you’d laugh without a care in the world. Little did you know he was falling too. He hated it.

Chris was open about his commitment issues to you. He wasn’t someone who was immediately happy getting into a relationship, the whole idea intimidated him. Having a label felt too immediate for him, and after being hurt in a previous relationship it was easy to see why. The fact he was falling for you was already enough to throw him off course, he just couldn’t turn away.

The way you both felt wasn’t subtle. Your friends always giggled when they noticed the smudged makeup that was lining your lips. No matter how many times you v denied the accusations of you two dating, the butterflies in your stomach became obvious.

That was until you confronted Chris about everything.

“Hey Chris...? Vulnerability filled you as soon as the words left your mouth. Quick glances around the room failed to aid you in finding anything else to converse about. His hand stilled from your hip, the touch burning your skin. “Mm? What’s up?”

You hadn’t even said anything to him, and you already felt sick in your stomach. Is this how every confession goes? “Can we talk…about us?”

“What about us Y/n?” You could tell he was getting concerned, yet not out of fear, but the fact he’d have to repeat himself again.

“I don’t want this anymore…like, I don’t know. I guess I don’t want to act like this is all casual anymore.” His touch on your hip no longer burned as it withdrew completely.

“I’ve told you, I’m not into that shit Y/n. We agreed on that, you knew. I’m not meant to be in a relationship, especially with you. That shit would hurt the both of us. We talked about this, end of.”

Tears brimmed at your eyes, and you felt so childish. He was right. You had discussed this more than once, the rules were clear. Weren’t rules meant to be broken. You couldn’t believe that you could be so stupid, the false hope from your friends fed into things that shouldn’t have been touched.

“Right…Well maybe I should go.” He didn’t protest, or even acknowledge you leave. Asking you to stay felt like too much to him, even if every cell argued with him.

The door shutting felt too real. You had actually left, this wasn’t a prank? Chris’s gaze was held on the door, praying you’d push it open and walk back through. You never did.

You quietly left through the front door and walked away from the porch, both your hands in your pockets. You were thankful for the dark sky, that way no one could see your tears. It was too quick, to reactive. It felt scripted hearing those words from him. ‘I’m not meant to be in a relationship, especially with you’

With you…

Maybe if you were someone else, he’d be more willing to hold your hand and call you his. He would always step in and call you ‘his girl’ when any other guy got a little to close to him. For once you wished it wasn’t a ploy. Chris never played you, never treated you badly, never gave you a reason to walk away. Maybe that’s why it hurt so much, he was too perfect.

Steady weeks went by with no contact from you. You never came over to his place anymore, invitations to parties remained unread. He didn’t care, he shouldn’t. What was this weird feeling in his chest.

It hurt seeing you so close and yet so far. Your contact was there, staring him in the face. Your face beaming in the profile picture wasn’t helping him. Chris felt out of place now. Without you by his side he had no one to kiss, no one to hold. He had no one to rant about his day to, no one to console when things got bad. His friends weren’t the same, he needed you. As much as he hated to admit it, all his thoughts revolved around you more than ever. Whenever he used to think about you, his heart clenched with resolute admiration towards you, now it felt sour. It was like a deep breathe wasn’t deep enough, distractions weren’t fulfilling enough.

He hated the feeling of falling for you, but the feeling of losing you was a nauseating sensation he wanted to scratch off his skin.

Not even alcohol could wipe the stain of you, nothing was working. He waited too long and fell comfortable to the casualness of your relationship. He was willing, willing to work through any fears if it meant getting you back.

Before he knew it, his front door was locked, and footsteps disappeared into the night. Stars began to light the sky above him. He found himself wondering if you were looking at them too, like you used to. The walk was only 15 minutes away but each second felt too long. he had waited too long. Now he hurt someone he cared about for his own selfishness.

When Chris turned the corner, his body stilled, and his stomach dropped to his feet. An unfamiliar car was parked outside your house, tilted against the concrete. Your hand placed gently into another’s as they pulled you from the car. You inched closer towards them, yet Chris remained frozen. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. Who was he, why was he here, with you.

The voices were too meek for Chris to make out, yet the message was clear. It was evident when the distance between you two close, his lips softly touching yours.

Only then could Chris turn his eyes away, he felt betrayed without reason. Chris wasn’t ready and when he finally was, he pushed you away enough to move on.

Yet, he loved you first.

@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckerrss @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @jassturn @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturniolosiphone @ribread03

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redroomreflections · 2 days ago

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Let It Linger

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

A Family of Her Own Series

9/10

Masterlist | General Masterlist

w/c: 6k

Summary: After the fall of the Avengers, Natasha Romanoff returns home to her secret family—a life she's carefully hidden away for years. Struggling to balance her role as a mother and wife while avoiding the dangers of her past, Natasha is forced to make difficult decisions that impact her loved ones.

This Chapter: Natasha raises Nicky on her own.

Note: I think I spent a total of nine hours on this chapter today. I wanted this one to be out immediately after the other one. 'Twas hard editing and Grammarly hates me but we got it.

There were boxes. So many boxes and bags she needed to pack into this quinjet. Apparently, she was better at multitasking than she thought as Natasha loaded up another item up the ramp. She eyed the pile of bags and boxes stacked by the entrance of the house, each one a piece of the life she was trying to keep together. There were essentials: clothes, supplies, and every scrap of familiarity she could gather for Nicky. But even so, packing felt like she was gathering remnants rather than carrying a life forward.

Natasha hefted another box onto her hip, balancing it while she reached to open the hatch on the Quinjet. She’d been working nonstop, only pausing to check on Nicky, who was perched near the ramp with Stella's stuffed shark clutched in his hands. He missed his sister. He toddled around the quinjet, picking up rocks, and patches of grass, attempting to stuff them into his mouth.

"Nicky, no, don't put that in your mouth," Natasha gently scolded. The toddler dropped the blade of grass and gave her a look that reminded her of you. That look tore through her every time, spurring her to work faster, to keep him distracted, safe, and normal—even if she didn’t know what “normal” looked like anymore.

“There we go,” she murmured as she placed the box inside, taking a deep breath before straightening up and dusting her hands on her pants. “See? Told you we’d fit it all.”

Her words fell flat in the empty cargo bay. She glanced around, looking for Nicky. A bolt of panic shot through her as she caught sight of him toddling away from the jet.

“Nicky! Stay near the jet!” Natasha called her voice firm but gentle, a note of weariness woven through it.

But as always, Nicky was determined, his little legs carrying him farther down the hill, his gaze locked on the swaying trees at the edge of the clearing. She cursed softly under her breath and jogged after him, scooping him up just as his fingers reached out for the grass. His small face crumpled, the beginnings of a pout forming, and he squirmed, his hands grabbing at the air, trying to clutch the grass he’d been reaching for.

“No, baby, it’s not safe,” she said firmly, tucking him close as he fussed. She forced herself to look away from the tree line. He didn’t understand, but she did. There were too many memories lingering there, places she couldn't risk letting him wander.

Nicky’s lip quivered, and his small hands gripped her collar in silent protest. She sighed, cradling him closer, and kissed his forehead, murmuring, “I know. I know, buddy. We’ll be home soon.”

She walked him back to the jet, where the boxes and bags were already stacked and waiting. Nicky’s weight against her shoulder was steady, grounding—so unlike the lightness and emptiness she felt inside. He was growing quickly, each day a small reminder of time slipping by. He’d be two soon. How had it already been three months? Three months of hollow silence, of talking to him in soft whispers, of answering questions she knew he was too young to ask but that he felt in his own way.

“Almost done, buddy,” she said, trying to keep her tone upbeat, but her voice cracked. She turned back to the house, and with him still clinging to her, walked through the door one last time to grab the last bag. Standing there in the doorway, she felt the weight of everything she was leaving behind, the faintest echoes of laughter and warmth still lingering in each corner.

With a deep breath, she slung the bag over her shoulder and glanced around. She was carrying everything she could now, every piece of what you'd built, gathered together in the small world she’d assembled for Nicky and herself.

“You’re getting heavy,” she murmured to him with a small smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. Nicky settled his head against her shoulder, his tiny fingers clutching at her sleeve as if he knew she needed the comfort more than he did.

It was time. They couldn’t stay here any longer, in a place so haunted by the memories of you. As much as it hurt, she knew returning to New York was the only path forward. The only way to find you. There were no resources here in Missouri. The compound had everything she needed. Natasha began to walk distractedly back to the quinjet, lugging the bag and Nicky effortlessly. She set him down, noting that he was following her, as she placed the bags into the bay. As Natasha slid the last bag into the Quinjet, she heard a faint jingling sound behind her. Her first thought was that Nicky had gotten hold of one of her empty holsters, and she was about to gently tell him to stay back. But then her voice caught in her throat as she turned around and saw it: a large, powerful-looking German shepherd standing a few feet away, intently sniffing in Nicky's direction.

Her body tensed instinctively. The dog was big, with a thick, well-muscled frame and the kind of alert gaze that signaled sharp intelligence and strong instincts. Natasha stepped forward slightly, inching closer to Nicky, her body a barrier between him and the strange dog.

“Hey there…” she said quietly, her voice steady but wary, as the shepherd lowered its nose toward Nicky, taking in his scent. Her eyes darted between them, ready to scoop Nicky up if the dog showed even a hint of aggression. But instead, the dog took a step closer and gave a short, chuffing sneeze, his head cocking to the side in an unexpectedly endearing way.

Nicky let out a tiny laugh, his hands reaching toward the dog without hesitation. Natasha’s heart lurched. Nicky had never been afraid of anything, and this was no exception.

“‘Mama,” Nicky said excitedly, his face lighting up. “Doggie!”

The dog, apparently pleased with the attention, let out a gentle huff and pressed its nose into Nicky's small hands, tail swishing low but wagging softly. Natasha exhaled slowly, her hand resting protectively on Nicky's back as she took in the scene.

“Alright, I guess you’re friendly,” she muttered, unable to keep a faint smile from creeping into her expression as she watched Nicky's chubby fingers grasp at the dog’s fur. The shepherd sat back on its haunches, its gaze moving between Nicky and Natasha as if patiently awaiting a command. "Where's your owner?" Natasha asked.

She scanned the area, her body tense, her hand resting on the knife strapped to her thigh under her pants, but saw no sign of anyone else. It didn’t make sense. How had the dog managed to get out here on its own? Of course, the house wasn't completely in the middle of nowhere but he'd have to walk far on his own.

The dog seemed content, its gaze flicking back to Nicky. Its tail thumped softly, and a low whine rose from its chest.

"Mama, doggie," Nicky giggled again.

"I know, the dog is nice but he can't stay," She shook her head. "We have to go. C'mon, kiddo."

Nicky looked at her with wide, pleading eyes, his little mouth turning down in a pout.

"Do we have to?" she groaned, knowing she'd lose this battle.

Nicky clapped his hands and squealed, his voice rising into an excited babble, and the dog let out a soft huff.

"What's your name?" She reached slowly for the dog tag. She squinted, holding the small piece of metal closer, but it was faded. Her brow furrowed as she tried to make out the words etched there.

"Ollie?" She tilted her head.

The dog stood and stretched, its large body shaking. It gave a gentle bark, its ears flicking as it regarded Natasha.

"Alright, okay, we can keep you for a little while," She nodded, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner. She carried Nicky over to his car seat, ensuring he was strapped in. Natasha watched as Ollie hopped into the seat beside him and rested his head in Nicky's lap, just beside the stuffed shark.

She was almost surprised when Nicky didn't fuss or try to wriggle out of his restraints. Instead, his small hand tangled in the soft fur at the top of Ollie's head, and he looked at her expectantly. As if they knew each other their whole lives. Natasha smiled to herself as she took her place in the pilot's chair, running a last system check before taking off.

She could have sworn the dog looked right at her, its head cocked, its ears swiveling toward her. She felt a sudden wave of sadness, her fingers tightening around the controls.

"Don't worry, buddy," she murmured, her voice tight with emotion. "We're going home."

*********

Natasha paused just outside the glass doors of the compound, shifting the weight of the toddler on her hip. Nicky’s tiny hands clung to her jacket, his gaze curiously drifting over the building as if sensing it was different from the small home they’d left behind. She'd forgotten that he had never been there. He hadn't known her life as an Avenger. It felt like a lifetime ago.

It was different now. Emptier. The building was quiet and dark, save for a few lights here and there. The once-busy hallways were now nearly silent. No footsteps echoed against the tile, and no voices or laughter broke the stillness. The air was cool and smelled faintly of food. Someone was cooking.

The sound of claws tapping against the floor made her look back. Ollie padded up behind her, his tongue lolling out in a panting grin, his tail wagging softly.

"Okay," Natasha muttered walking further into the compound. "We're home, Nicky."

He made a small, inquisitive noise and buried his face against her shoulder, his little fingers curling into the fabric of her jacket.

In the kitchen, Tony and Pepper sat together at the counter, sharing a quiet dinner. They were deep in conversation, their voices low, but Natasha caught glimpses of concern in Pepper’s expression as she leaned closer to Tony. They were discussing something serious—she could tell by the way Tony was fiddling with his coffee mug, brow furrowed.

The sound of her footsteps made them both look up. Tony’s mouth fell open for a beat before he quickly regained his composure, but the shock in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Natasha!” he exclaimed, his voice somewhere between delighted and bewildered. “And...a kid?”

“Yeah.” Natasha tightened her hold on Nicky, who watched Tony with wide, curious eyes. “This is Dominic.”

Tony blinked, looking from her to the toddler and back again. “Is he...yours?”

“He’s mine,” Natasha replied softly, her tone steady but carrying a weight that only those who knew her well could understand.

"Did you steal him?" Tony asked. He barely flinched at the pinch Pepper given him under the table.

"No, Tony, I didn't steal him," she muttered.

"But you've been gone for—"

"He's my son," She cut in, her tone firm, leaving no room for doubt.

Pepper's expression softened.

"It's nice to meet you, Dominic," Pepper's voice was soft and calm.

Nicky made a soft noise and tucked his head against Natasha's shoulder, shy and uncertain.

"This is Aunt Pepper and Uncle Tony," Natasha murmured to him. "They're good people."

Tony and Pepper exchanged a brief look.

"He's a mini you, Nat," Tony said quietly, a small smile creeping into his expression.

"I tend to think he looks like my wife," Natasha shrugged. You did birth him after all.

Tony’s jaw dropped, and he blinked at her in shock, trying to process the words.

“Your…wife?” he repeated slowly, looking at Natasha as though he were piecing together a puzzle.

A flicker of emotion crossed Natasha's face—something softer, something mournful. She glanced down at Nicky, brushing a gentle hand over his hair as he burrowed closer to her shoulder.

“Yes. My wife,” she confirmed quietly, her voice laced with a kind of bittersweet strength. “He takes after her, you know—especially the smile.”

Tony opened his mouth and then closed it again, his brow furrowing, and Pepper reached to cover his hand with hers, gently squeezing his fingers. "And the dog?"

"I stole him," She said.

Tony chuckled softly.

Natasha was suddenly exhausted. It was too much, too fast. She needed space. Space to breathe, space to process, space to be with her son. She shifted her weight, and the motion drew Ollie's attention.

"He's been a good help," she murmured. "Dominic's not fond of long rides. Usually y/n would sit with him and help him sleep."

“Oh, Natasha…” Pepper murmured, reaching out to gently touch her arm. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”

Natasha gave a small, tight nod. “It was…before all of this happened.” She took a deep breath, glancing around the compound as if seeing it with fresh eyes. “After the snap, I…didn’t know what else to do. And I thought maybe…coming back here might help us.”

Tony cleared his throat, clearly still processing. “Well, you’re here now, and that’s what matters. You’re both welcome here, Nat.”

Nicky peeked up at Tony, his shyness momentarily forgotten, and Tony gave him a little smile and wave. “Hey, kiddo. I’m your Uncle Tony, and we’ll…work on getting you into the best tech school money can buy.”

Natasha’s lips curved into a faint smile, some of her tension easing. “One step at a time, Tony.”

He held up his hands, conceding, and gave a small chuckle. "You must be hungry. Have you eaten?"

"No," she admitted.

"Sit. I'll get you both something."

"I don't think he'll eat anything."

"He's gotta eat something," Tony waved a hand. "I made steaks."

"You cooked?" Natasha questioned.

"Yes," Tony shot her a glare. "And you're welcome. Pepper and I have been taking turns, but it's not as if we have a chef."

"I'm sorry," Natasha whispered, a small blush creeping up her neck.

"Sit, Nat. I'll get you both something," Pepper said softly.

"Thank you," she murmured, her gaze shifting to Nicky. Before Tony could ask more questions, Steve stepped into the kitchen. He was sporting some serious five o'clock shadow and his hair had grown at least an inch.

"Nat?" he said, his voice hoarse, his eyes widening slightly. He was frozen to the spot.

"I thought you might have run off to Europe again," Natasha commented.

"I, uh, have some business here. Wanted to be back if things changed," He answered.

"I'm glad you did," she said, a sad smile forming.

"How's Nicky?" Steve asked.

"Wait? You know him? You knew about him?" Tony brought a plate of food to place in front of Natasha.

"I did," Steve shook his head."I met him when I went to get Nat and her family," He shrugged.

"Family?"

"Yes, Tony. Family. Y/n is my wife. Nicky is our son." Natasha clarified. "Stella is...she's our daughter. She's three."

"But you were gone," Tony said. "A lot. Here with us. Like all the time."

"I took breaks, Tony. And yes, I was gone a lot. That's why we bought a house. Y/n could stay home. It was easier than having a nanny or putting Stella in daycare."

"Oh, uh. I didn't know," He murmured, suddenly realizing how insensitive he was being.

"I didn't mean to interrupt. I just came for a drink," Steve said, grabbing a bottle of water and backing away.

"Steak, Cap?" Tony called.

"I'm good, Tony," He waved.

"You could stay," Natasha suggested.

"I don't want to intrude," Steve said.

"You won't. Nicky needs someone to keep him busy. Ollie will only entertain him so much," Natasha chuckled.

"Ollie?" Steve looked confused.

"Our new dog. He found us before we got here."

Just as he sat down, Nicky reached for Steve, his tiny arms opening and closing. Natasha's heart lurched. He was looking for a connection with the only other person he knew. Steve scooped Nicky up, placing him on his lap, and began to speak to him in a low, quiet voice.

"So," Tony clapped his hands, breaking the tension. "What did this wife of yours look like? How did you meet her?"

Natasha took a bite of her steak, chewing it slowly, letting the silence draw out until Pepper gave him a look. "She was a former SHIELD agent."

"She was?" Tony was confused.

"Yes," Natasha nodded.

"When did you meet her?" Steve asked.

"Tony, I really think we should discuss something else," Pepper told him gently. She could see the tears forming in Natasha's eyes.

"Like what?" Tony was oblivious.

"Tony, she lost her family," Pepper scolded.

"Right," Tony backed down for once. His curiosity was evident.

"Tell us about him," Pepper gestured toward Nicky.

"He's stubborn," Natasha smirked. "Just like his mother. And he's brave, and he's smart."

"We're going to get them back Nat," Steve said firmly. She wished she could believe him.

**************

The days had started to blur together, each one folding into the next in an endless cycle of searching, planning, and hoping. Natasha clung to Steve's words with everything she had, holding onto the idea that somehow, she’d bring you and everyone else back. She pushed herself to the limit, reaching out to anyone and everyone—Okoye in Wakanda, Rocket and the Guardians, and even a scroll of world leaders. Every door opened led to another closed one, and yet she kept moving forward, refusing to believe that all hope was lost.

But being an Avenger, a relentless force in her search, wasn’t her hardest job. Every time she returned to the compound after a long, fruitless day, her hardest job began: being a mother to Nicky. He’d started speaking more, toddling around the compound, exploring every nook and cranny. His laughter resonated down the quiet halls, moments of brightness in an otherwise somber world. Yet there were days he grew frustrated, looking around as if he knew someone was missing but couldn’t understand why.

Here they are in their suite just the two of them and Ollie. Ollie watched with slight interest, one ear raised, as Natasha placed a single cupcake in front of them on the coffee table. Finding it had been a challenge—most bakeries in New York were still struggling to recover, their shelves often bare and their employees long gone. But today was special. Today was Nicky’s third birthday, and despite everything, she was determined to give him a good day.

The cupcake was modest but beautiful, topped with a swirl of frosting and a single candle flickering gently in the still air.

“Look what I found!” Natasha exclaimed, leaning closer to him with a playful grin. “It’s your very own birthday cupcake!”

Nicky clapped his hands and giggled. "It's my favorite color, Mama."

"Red," She smiled, her fingers gently tugging on his ear.

"Like Mama's hair."

"Yes, like Mama's hair," She kissed his cheek, pulling a box of matches from her pocket.

"I'm three," he added, holding up three fingers. "A big boy."

"That's right, baby," She lit the candle and started singing, her voice quiet and slightly raspy.

As the song ended, Nicky squealed and bounced up and down in her lap. "Make a wish, sweetheart," Natasha whispered.

Nicky looked at the flame for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Do I blow it out, Mama?"

"Yes, that's what we do. We blow it out."

"And then we make a wish?"

"Yep."

Nicky stared at the flame, his chubby hands resting on Natasha's forearm, and let out a short puff of air, the flame wavering and sputtering out.

"What did you wish for?" she murmured.

Nicky grinned. "A basketball."

"You like basketball?" Natasha's brows rose.

"I wanna play basketball," He told her.

"Maybe when you're bigger, kiddo," She chuckled softly.

Nicky nodded, his attention moving to the frosting. Natasha quickly swiped some off the top, and he eagerly opened his mouth.

"Good?" She asked.

He gave an enthusiastic nod. "More, Mama."

She obliged, wiping more frosting onto her finger, and he giggled as he took it from her.

"Okay, you need a bath after this. Then we can play with your new toys," Natasha said.

Nicky paused a smudge of red frosting at the corner of his mouth. "Can we watch more videos of Mommy and my sister?"

"Yes, we can." She kissed his cheek, her heart twisting with pain and joy."Happy birthday, Nicky," She murmured, wrapping her arms around him and holding him close. She reached for the phone, found the birthday video you'd taken in France, and played it for him.

"It was so nice to celebrate your birthday here, baby. Look at you. You're so big." Your voice sounded from the speakers.

Tears sprang to Natasha's eyes as she watched. She was doing the best she could, but nothing could replace you. It was only a matter of time before Nicky understood the situation fully.

"That's my sister," Nicky said excitedly as Stella stepped into the frame.

"Yes, that's your sister," Natasha agreed. "She's a good big sister."

"Where's Stella and Mommy?" He asked quietly, his tone hopeful.

Natasha's chest tightened. She'd told him many times that you were away, and she was working on bringing you home. It was a lie that grew harder to tell each time he asked. She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep it up.

"They're away right now, Nicky," Natasha answered gently.

"How come they're not here?"

"Mommy and Stella are in another place," Natasha explained, brushing her hand over his hair. He really needed a haircut. "It's far away."

"Like a trip?"

"Sort of," She nodded, not sure how to continue.

"Are they coming home soon?"

"We're working on it," She said, swallowing hard.

"Can I play with Ollie now?" He asked.

"Sure, honey. He's been waiting for you."

Nicky scrambled from her lap, his small body moving across the room. The dog stood and stretched, shaking his fur before padding toward the toddler.

"Be careful, okay?" She warned him.

Nicky was already on the floor, his fingers tangled in the dog's fur. Natasha's eyes turned back to the video.

Natasha watched you scoop him into your arms, your laughter loud and carefree, his giggles infectious. Her heart twisted in her chest, aching. A tear rolled down her cheek.

"I love you," she whispered, her gaze turning toward Nicky. He was sprawled on the floor with Ollie, the two of them engaged in an intense game of tug of war.

She loved him enough for the both of you.

********

The days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, and Natasha found herself lost in the whirlwind of motherhood and the unending search for answers. The ache in her heart was a constant reminder of what they had lost, but she held onto hope, even if it felt threadbare. This was year three.

The morning light streamed through the window as she sipped her coffee, the mug warming her hands. Today felt different, though—a change was in the air. She sensed it even before Steve arrived with his suitcase in hand, a determined look on his face.

“Hey, Nat,” he greeted her, his voice steady but soft.

“Hey,” she replied, setting her mug down. “You’re moving out?”

“Yeah, I found a place in Brooklyn.” His smile was filled with sadness, but he tried to mask it.

“Oh,” Natasha said, feeling a pang in her chest. Steve had been a steady presence, a support system when everything else felt chaotic. “Are you sure about this?”

“I need my own space,” he admitted, glancing around the suite that had become their makeshift home. “I think it’ll be good for me. For all of us. It's been three years since the snap."

Natasha felt her breath catch in her throat, her fingers tightening on her mug. Three years.

"And I...I can't stay here any longer, Nat," he continued, his gaze distant, as if he were seeing the past.

She understood. The compound held memories, good and bad, and for Steve, those memories were a constant reminder of his lost love. Tony and Pepper had announced their pregnancy shortly after she moved in and had gone lakeside with their newborn, Morgan. For the past few years, it's just been the three of them. It became routine to have Steve at lunch or dinner.

"I get it," Natasha nodded, taking another sip of coffee.

"But, hey," he added, trying for a more upbeat tone. "I'm not too far. I'll be back to visit. And I'm still working on finding a way to bring them back. We'll get them back, Nat."

"I know."

"And you're welcome at my place any time."

"Thanks, Steve," Natasha managed a small smile. "And thank you. For everything."

"It's what friends do," he shrugged, pulling her into a hug.

"Take care of yourself," she murmured.

"I will," he assured her. "And don't be a stranger, okay? My door is always open."

"I'll remember that," she gave a soft laugh.

Steve lingered a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features.

"Something else?" She prompted.

"No, no," Steve shook his head.

With that, he was gone.

**********

Natasha was truly alone now and she found herself stretched thin. Every answer she'd gotten only led back to square one. There was no getting you back. There was no coming back from this. Today was one of those days. Nicky was being particularly stubborn, a trait he had inherited from both her and you. He had spent the morning refusing to pick up his toys, ignoring her gentle reminders to tidy up.

“Nicky, please,” she said, her patience waning as she knelt beside him. “We need to clean up before we can play outside. You can’t keep leaving your toys all over the place.”

He looked up at her, his hazel eyes mirroring your defiance. “No! I wanna play with Ollie!”

Natasha felt frustration bubbling inside her. “You can play with Ollie after you clean up. That’s the rule,” she insisted, trying to maintain her composure.

Nicky scowled, his little fists balling up, and stomped his foot. “No!” he shouted, crossing his arms stubbornly. “I don’t want to!”

The defiance ignited something deep within Natasha, and she took a deep breath to steady herself. “Nicky, I need you to listen to me. This isn’t just about toys; it’s about helping each other. We’re a team, remember?”

Her son shook his head, a few stray tears falling from his eyes. "I want my mommy!" he shouted, his lower lip trembling. "You're no fun."

"Well right now you're mommy's not here," Natasha swallowed. "I'm here and I'm telling you to pick up your toys."

"No," Nicky muttered, his stubborn streak on full display.

"Fine," Natasha snapped, pushing herself to her feet. "If you want to act like a baby, then I'll treat you like one."

She stalked away from him, grabbing a pillow from the sofa and dropping it on the floor.

"Go sit in time out," she ordered.

"No, Mama," Nicky whimpered.

"Time. Out."

"I don't want time out."

"It's either time out or the naughty step," She said firmly.

"No," he shouted, his tiny fist hitting the pillow and knocking it off. "No, no, no, no." He yelled.

"Dominic," Natasha's voice was sharp, her gaze hard. "Stop that right now. I am your mother and you will obey me."

"You're mean," He muttered, his cheeks flushed.

"You're the one being mean right now," she pointed out. "Now sit down and stay there until I say so."

"You don't tell me what to do," He screamed. "I want my other mommy, not you."

His expression remained resolute, and Natasha could feel her temper flaring. “You’re ruining my life!” she snapped before she could catch herself.

Nicky recoiled as if she had struck him, his eyes welling with tears, and for a moment Natasha thought he might apologize. But then he was crying, his tiny shoulders shaking, his face scrunched up with emotion.

Ollie let out a soft whine, nudging his head against Nicky's leg.

"Nicky," She breathed.

"You don't love me," He cried, his arms wrapped tightly around the dog.

"Nicky," Natasha repeated, moving to kneel beside him.

"You don't want me."

"Nicky, no," Natasha said softly, her heart breaking at the sound of his sobs.

"You wish I wasn't here."

"No, no, Nicky."

"I wanna go back to Mommy," He hiccuped, his tears still falling. Nevermind the fact that his memories of you were fleeting and few.

"Nicky, look at me," Natasha tried, her fingers gently tilting his chin up.

"No," He refused, his gaze fixed on the ground.

"Please," she pleaded.

Nicky met her gaze, his eyes filled with tears and sadness.

"I'm sorry, Nicky. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that. I was just frustrated. You can't say those things. That's not true," She shook her head.

"Then why?"

"Because," She started, her heart pounding in her chest. "Your mommy is gone and I'm trying so hard to bring her back. I'm sorry baby. Listen to me."

"You yelled," He accused.

"I know. I shouldn't have done that."

"My ears hurt."

"I'm sorry. Here," She pulled him onto her lap, her arms wrapping around him. "Mama's so sorry. Baby."

Nicky buried his face against her shoulder, his small hands clinging to her shirt. "Mama," He hiccuped, his fingers tangled in her shirt.

"Baby, listen to me. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that," She sighed.

"You're not mad?" He mumbled.

"I'm not mad," She reassured him, kissing his head. "I'm so sorry. I promise you I'm trying. I'm doing everything I can. Okay?"

Nicky nodded.

"You know I love you so much, right?"

"Yes."

"And your mommy loves you. So much. She would be so proud of you. Okay?"

Nicky let out a shuddering breath, his fingers clutching her shirt.

"You're my boy," She murmured. "And I'm going to do everything I can to keep you safe."

***********

The streets of New York City were eerily empty as Natasha walked along the sidewalks. It had been a long time since she’d ventured out on her own, without Nicky by her side. She had left him with Steve, knowing the six-year-old would be safe and entertained while she took a moment to breathe. The city felt both familiar and foreign, a blend of memories and shadows that lingered in the corners of her mind.

Though she’d tried to hold onto hope, there were days when it slipped through her fingers like sand. Natasha brushed a hand through her hair, exhaling slowly as she took in the skyline, the towering buildings standing as a testament to resilience—something she desperately needed to muster within herself.

Her feet carried her toward a small bar tucked away between two larger establishments, the neon sign flickering in the dim light. It seemed inviting, almost like a refuge from the overwhelming world outside. Natasha hesitated at the entrance, her fingers curling around the door handle, but then she pushed it open, her boots landing on the worn floorboards.

A handful of patrons occupied the tables, their heads bowed and voices hushed. No one seemed to notice her as she approached the bar, the bartender polishing a glass and humming softly to himself.

He glanced up as she sat down, a half smile playing on his lips.

"What can I get ya?"

"Just a beer," she replied.

"Coming right up."

The bartender grabbed a bottle and popped the cap off before sliding it toward her.

"Thanks," she said, taking a long swig.

He leaned closer, his eyes appraising her. "I don't mean to be nosy, but you look familiar."

Natasha tensed, her fingers gripping the bottle tighter.

"I knew it," he smiled. "You're an Avenger."

"Yeah," she nodded.

"What brings you to our neck of the woods?"

"Just needed a break," she admitted, her voice low.

"From?"

"Everything."

"Sounds rough," he commented.

"It's been a rough few years."

"Tell me about it," the bartender shook his head. "This whole snap thing has really shaken up the city."

"You can say that again," Natasha muttered, taking another sip of her beer.

Sensing that she needed to be alone he left her to her thoughts. As the bartender walked away, she glanced around the room, her gaze landing on a woman seated a few stools down. The woman was alone, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, a book resting on the counter beside her.

"It's Harry Potter," The woman held up her book. "Dorky right?"

"Not at all," Natasha smiled.

"I'm Nora," the woman offered her hand.

"Natasha."

"You're an Avenger," she grinned.

"Guilty as charged."

"You guys are heroes."

"Thanks."

"How's that going?"

"Honestly, I've had better days," Natasha laughed bitterly.

“Is this seat taken?” Nora asked as she moved closer.

"All yours."

"So, what's an Avenger doing at my local dive bar?"

"Just trying to clear my head," Natasha answered.

"Well, I'm glad you're here."

"Me too."

Natasha took another swig of her beer, the alcohol burning her throat.

"Wanna talk about it?" Nora asked.

"There's not much to talk about," Natasha sighed. "My wife's gone. I'm raising our son on my own. The rest of the team has split up, and I have no idea what's happening."

"Oh, wow," Nora's brow furrowed. "That's heavy."

"Yeah," Natasha nodded.

"I'm sorry," Nora gave her a sympathetic smile.

"It is what it is," Natasha shrugged, downing the last of her beer.

"Here," Nora offered her a shot glass filled with amber liquid.

"I shouldn't," Natasha hesitated.

"You should. Trust me. It helps."

Natasha accepted the shot glass, swallowing the liquid in one gulp.

"I don't want to seem weird, but if you need someone to talk to, I'm a pretty good listener."

"And if I didn't want you to listen?"

"Well, I can be there for other things too," Nora smirked.

Natasha met her gaze, a slight flush creeping up her cheeks. "Yeah, you can."

"Are you busy tonight?"

"Not at all," Natasha laughed, her mood lifting.

"Wanna get out of here?" Nora suggested. "My apartment is down the street."

"Lead the way." She gestured, slapping a twenty dollar bill on the counter.

“Am I really doing this?” Natasha wondered silently, her thoughts racing. She hadn’t intended to meet someone tonight, let alone flirt with them, but something about Nora's easy demeanor and infectious laughter drew her in. It had been ages since Natasha had allowed herself to entertain thoughts of connection beyond her role as a mother and an Avenger. Was this just a fleeting moment of distraction, or could it be something more?

Nora led the way down the street, her long strides effortlessly navigating the sidewalk. Natasha followed closely, acutely aware of the warmth radiating from Nora’s presence. “This way,” Nora called back, her voice light and inviting.

As they walked, Natasha couldn’t help but replay the evening in her mind. The shot had loosened her inhibitions, allowing her to share more than she had intended.

“Are you always this quiet?” Nora asked, glancing over at her. She took Natasha's hand in her own. A presumptuous move.

Natasha smiled, enjoying the feeling of Nora's hand in hers.

"I'm on the third floor," Nora narrated as they took the elevator to hr apartment.

The door opened into a cozy space, the lights dimmed and the scent of cinnamon lingered in the air.

"So this is my humble abode," Nora announced, her hand gesturing around the room.

"Nice place," Natasha commented, her gaze lingering on the bookshelf and the photographs decorating the walls.

"Make yourself comfortable," Nora invited, slipping her shoes off and tossing her jacket onto the armchair.

"Thanks," Natasha smiled, sinking into the sofa and resting her head against the cushion.

Nora settled beside her, a glass of wine in each hand.

"So, do you frequent that bar a lot?"

"More often than I'd like," Nora admitted. "But you didn't come all the way to my apartment to get to know me."

"No," Natasha agreed, taking a sip of her wine. "I didn't."

It's almost as if Nora instantly knew what she needed or assumed she did. She straddled Natasha's lap and moved to kiss her. Natasha turned her head.

"I'm sorry I just.." Natasha shook her head. Nora doesn't take offense. She simply nuzzled Natasha's neck. It's there Natasha allowed her to place a kiss.

"You smell so good," Nora murmured, her fingers brushing through Natasha's hair.

"Thanks," Natasha breathed.

Nora's lips brushed over her neck, the sensation sending shivers down her spine. Natasha leaned into the touch, her eyes closing.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable," Nora said softly.

"No," Natasha assured her. "You didn't."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Natasha smiled.

Nora returned the smile, her fingers tracing patterns on Natasha's skin.

"You're beautiful," she murmured.

"So are you," Natasha replied, her fingers tangling in Nora's hair. Nora's kisses continued on her neck as her hands worked Natasha's belt buckle.

"Nora," Natasha gasped.

"Relax," Nora breathed.

"I can't."

"Yes, you can."

"We're moving fast."

"Too fast?"

"Maybe," Natasha sighed.

"You can tell me to stop."

"No, no, it's okay," Natasha insisted. "I just...need a minute."

"Of course," Nora smiled, her fingers trailing along Natasha's jawline.

"You're not like other people I've met."

"How so?"

"You're..."

"Charming? Sexy? Funny?" Nora teased.

"I was going to say sweet," Natasha smiled but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"You miss your wife," Nora sighed.

"It's almost five years,"

"And you haven't been with anyone since."

"No, I haven't."

"You're lonely," Nora said, a sympathetic smile playing on her lips.

"Yeah," Natasha admitted. "I'm sorry. I can't do this."

"It's fine," Nora assured her. "I understand."

"Thanks," Natasha said.

"Are you hungry?" Nora asked.

"Starving," Natasha replied.

"Good," Nora smiled, standing up and offering her hand. "I've got leftover pizza."

"Sounds perfect," Natasha laughed.

They ended up eating the pizza on the couch, their knees touching as they chatted about everything and nothing. All Natasha needed was a friend.

***************

Natasha sat on a bench, watching Nicky play. He was growing up fast, his hair now cascading past his shoulders, and he was lanky and tall for his age, nearing seven years old. It was hard to believe how quickly time had passed since the Snap, and that he was already older than Stella ever was.

Nicky dashed around, his laughter ringing out like music, as he chased after a group of pigeons. He had taken a liking to animals, a trait he had most definitely inherited from you, and was always eager to see whatever was running around the compound.

Natasha chuckled, her gaze fixed on her son.

"He's getting big," a familiar voice called out, making her turn.

"Yeah," she smiled.

"Can I join you?" Steve asked, motioning to the empty space beside her.

"Of course," she scooted over.

"So how are you holding up?" He asked, settling down.

"I'm alright," Natasha replied.

"Just alright?"

"You know," she shrugged.

"It's getting easier, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"Living without them."

"Steve," she sighed.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I just wanted to check in."

"No, it's fine," she waved off.

"I'm here if you need anything."

"I appreciate that," she smiled.

"You look happier," Steve observed.

"Do I?"

"Yeah, you do."

"I feel better," she admitted.

"Good," Steve smiled. "That's good."

"Mama, look," Nicky called out, showing her the pigeon perched on his arm.

"That's great, buddy," she smiled.

"I'm gonna name him George," Nicky declared.

"Okay," she laughed. "We're going to double wash you during bath time."

Nicky frowned, his nose scrunching up.

"It's true," she nodded. "You don't want George to give you a disease."

"Oh," he sighed. "Alright."

"I love you, baby."

"Love you too, Mama."

"Be careful," she reminded him.

"I will."

Nicky ran off again, the pigeon and Ollie following behind him.

"It's getting late," Natasha commented, glancing up at the darkening sky.

"Yeah," Steve agreed.

"Do you have to be anywhere?"

"No," Steve shook his head.

"Good, I'd like the company."

"Glad I can be of service," Steve laughed.

They watched in silence as Nicky played, the sky streaked with pink and purple hues. He was the only real memory she had of you. She'd cherish him forever.

---> next part

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #afamilyofherownau

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nodynasty4us · 3 days ago

Link

More from the reblogs:

Also worth noting that asking people who they're voting for or discussing candidate policies is pretty illegal on polling location grounds.#If you're a federal worker there's something called the Hatch Act that makes discussing political affairs SUPER ILLEGAL!#But yes your activism is commendable but it's more important for you to be safe. Lie like hell if you have to in order to stay safe!

how much you wanna bet republicans are going to try to go after private voting after this?

I hate that we hold up honesty as this unassailable virtue#that we don't teach people the difference between wanting to avoid taking responsibility and needing to protect yourself#it's another reason I hate corporal punishment so much#if you teach your children that it's wrong to lie even if they know you're going to hit them for telling the truth#then how are they going to know that they don't owe their spouse a truth that the spouse will hit them for?

my older sibling voted for Obama and never told our mother even tho mom was the one who DROVE them to the polling place

Republicans are really out here saying they’d rather be cucked than have their wives vote for Kamala and not tell them.

I was definitely too spooked to vote too far out of line the first time#Fun fact you don't gotta be spooked just vote whatever

for a group that loves tradition conservatives have really forgotten that so many peoples grandparents would NEVER discuss politics#EVER#my parents would never know who their parents were voting for#it was private. secret.#I never knew my grandfather's politics#either of them

and also don't say you wrote in yourself or him or someone you know because if your county releases a record of who received votes#and you or he don't appear with having received a solitary vote then he could extrapolate that you lied#so just say you voted for who he wanted you to vote for#and make plans to leave him#because if hes this frothing mad at the idea of you voting based on your own conscience then you need to get out

seriously you ain't gotta tell nobody who you vote for#also the volume and intensity of their outrage is meant to intimidate you#they are trying to scare you#'

What's "nauseating" is that these men - Watterson and Kirk - obviously don't believe in women as people, who have rights separate from men - from their fathers, husbands, or sons.

But imagine the gender-flipped scenario: An ad that tells you that you don’t have to vote for who your wife wants to vote for, and you don’t even have to tell her who you voted for — after all, you’re your own man, right? Suddenly, it sounds like common sense.

I hope we see a MASS of divorces after this.#that said I think we need to start getting ready to give additional support to battered women shelters.

If it was 1% more socially acceptable and politically strategically viable to say so, they would just straight up tell you that they want to take away your right to vote as a woman.

i remember seeing some right wingers saying that women shouldnt vote because why would you need to vote differently than your husband#and while i think comments like that are made to get people angry and talking#it's interesting to see the same exact sentiment described in this article#“imagine a man working so hard just for his wife to vote against him” thats crazy#proof they hate women and proof they hate democracy#but we already knew that

And they want to take away no-fault divorce. They don't want partners, they want possessions.

"How'd you vote?" "Same as everyone. Secret ballot."

Also if you have to lie you might seriously want to consider a lesbian affair. At least I think that's what Republicans are saying.

also the fact that the republicans were so mad about that ad proves that the ad is right#there's a reason your wife has to lie to you bud

this is on the heels of one trillion pity party op-eds scolding liberals for not wanting to date conservatives or estranging RW family

12:01 PM

The desperation to control woman is disgusting. Crazy from the party of "freedom"

republican men feeling entitled to control how their wife votes is so fuckin….#i'm grossed out for these women#we need to make it easier for divorce in the usa and i'm not joking

not quite related but u can also lie to the democrats themselves#you can say ''i wont vote for you unless you stop giving weapons to israel''… and then vote for them anyway#this is the having your cake and eating it of using your vote for political activism#except that in this case you actually can have your cake and eat it#as long as you're not discouraging others from voting just telling the democrats themselves this (#(in calls to your representative in emails etc etc)#it has no particular downside

my sisters told me they lied to our mom cause they came home to her angrily watching a trump rally#i dont know HOW she believed them#this is the same person who told me 'im not sure im going to let you leave the house until youre voting for the right person'

Republican men don't believe in female autonomy. You, as their wife, daughter, sister, and even mother are their property and its your job to vote their beliefs. Don't worry you're pretty little head and "try" and think for yourself ladies they'll do the thinkin for you….. Don't know how anyone could stand being married to or dating a man like that, but it sure seems to be quite common.

lie about who you voted for and then cheat on your husband, problem solved

Really makes me think of all the whining they do about how liberal women don't want to date conservative men. They'll say that we can just agree to disagree, but then act like a husband owns his wife's vote.

in 2016 I almost got into a fight with my aunt when I told her I voted for Clinton#it really shook me up and I think I cried afterward#both my mom and my doctor separately comforted me and told me “’you never have to tell anyone who you voted for#if they ask tell them it’s none of their business’#they went on to lament how when they were younger it was common courtesy not to ask how someone voted and they don’t like how people#feel entitled to know how someone voted

lying is easier than a divorce#he'll never know#and then maybe one day this decision can help get you the other tools you need to be free of a controlling man

Absolutely lie if you need to. This thread and the ad reminded me how my conservative parents refused to take me to absentee vote when I was in college because they knew I wasn't going to vote GOP. It was the first time I was old enough to vote, and I didn't have a car. My grandmother took me so I could vote before I went back to school. This was over 30 years ago!

so if believe these people think voting for a different candidate is like having an affair#does that mean theyre fucking trump. or something

Amazing how many republican men see their wives as extensions of themselves and not people with their own minds#to paraphrase Granny Weatherwax “Thinking of people as things is were Evil begins.”

it's a secret ballot for a reason#seriously this is why ballot selfies are banned; to protect the secrecy of your vote

“wife lying about her vote is as bad as an affair.” US is wild! Here, you go vote and press a button. Over there you go out and FUCK THE CANDIDATE! Now I understand why the voting time spread through a lot of days! It never made sense to me, but they do need to recover, get some electrolytes…

Man, conservative men just love announcing how fragile they are.

it is always okay to lie to keep yourself safe. it'd be good to start working on a plan to get tf out of this dangerous situation, mind. but: baby steps.

I don't live at my parents anymore#and I'm in a safe space so I don't give a shit about being as vocal as I am#but once upon a time I wasn't#and I got into a huge fight with my mom about it because she voted for Trump and#and I did not#and it was really touch and go whether or not I'd still have a home after that#republicans are always deep into their own dramatics#this is NOT the same as cheating and they're lying to scare you

Every man who has had an affair deserves a woman who votes for Kamala. (Not really, he deserves to be alone. His significant other certainly deserves better. I just was trying to adulterer-shame)

this ad feels sooooo familiar for anyone who's ever been in an emotionally abusive relationship#i would not put it past my dad to pull this shit if any of us (including my mom) still lived with him#all the troll comments going 'but wHy WouLd YoU LiE tO yOuR hUsBaNd???' are being intentionally dense#so that he doesn't make her life even more of a living hell behind closed doors! that's fucking why!

From the October 31, 2024 article:

“In the one place in America where women still have a right to choose, you can vote any way you want. And no one will ever know,” Roberts says in the ad as a woman on screen meets up with her husband after casting her ballot for Harris.

The voter winks at a fellow female voter as her husband asks if she made the “right choice.”

Republicans have responded to the video with outrage, with some claiming that a wife lying about her vote is as bad as an affair.

“If I found out Emma was going to the voting booth and pulling the lever for Harris, that’s the same thing as having an affair,” Fox News host Jesse Watters said on air Wednesday in a clip highlighted by Mediaite.

Other GOP members including Charlie Kirk said the thought was “nauseating.”

#voting #secret ballot #patriarchy #long post #featured

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interstellar-productions · 2 days ago

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Thinking so many thoughts honestly, about Aaron currently (spiritually not situationally I relate to him, it’s complicated). Aaron so specifically speaks to me because of how (at least with the crumbs we’re fed by canon) he internalizes and deals with his trauma. He WANTS to be normal. In fact he tries so hard to be normal (as society interprets normality) that he actively distances himself and represses any part of him that may lead people to viewing him as anything other then normal.

In my mind this was probably done intentionally, it creates a contrast between him and Andrew (and is probably why Neil is able to tell the twins apart pretty much from the get go). Andrew doesn’t speak about his trauma but he also doesn’t necessarily minimize it. Andrew makes himself big, body language wise he’s very loud. “Look at me, at what they did to me. Look at who I became”. Andrew is a warning sign, he lets his bleeding wounds show and mixes them with ragged bone and snarling teeth. Andrew is telling people without telling people what will happen if someone crosses him.

In contrast Aaron hides, his pain and his scares. Aaron turns everything inwards, shoving it all into closets and under beds. If he blends in then maybe no one will notice him enough to pick him out. Hiding in plane sight. Aaron works so hard to be normal and is canonically known as the least interesting and most normal fox, despite having a murder charge and being a recovered addict. He is the normal fox. People overlook him, glance right over him, his teammates, peers, everyone. Perfect grades, good at his sports, girl next door girlfriend. Aaron is so painfully NORMAL.

It speaks so deeply because it’s so obvious to me that its a coping mechanism and not actually because that’s how he really is. If he was just painfully normal we wouldn’t get some of his more violent or assholeish out burst and he probably wouldn’t have that grudge against Bee. His grudge against Bee is actually what sparked this whole thing for me. He hates Bee, he says that he’s never actually spoken a word to her and even when he starts sessions with Andrew he’s really just speaking to Andrew while Bee is in the room rather then directly speaking to Bee. My little psych major mind (mixed with my personal feelings but HUSH) is just screaming that this whole “I’m normal look right through me please I’m normal”. It’s how he COPES. This guy grew up at least a little bit inside a church (because Luther) and had to hide both bruises and addiction and whatever else was going on inside that house. Statistically speaking there’s two major ways you internalize trauma like that. And I love Aaron and Andrew because their those two ways basically. Aaron is trying so hard to be so Normal that he becomes basically invisible. Blending into the background.

He probably has everyone convinced that he’s got it all in the bag, all his shit? It’s in a sock, don’t even worry about it. He’s got the grades, the girlfriend and he plays a sport. Bro is literally sitting pretty to be so uninteresting that he gets nothing but a cursory glance, and it’s totally part of his scheme. No one’s going to think to ask questions he doesn’t want them too. Not about his past and not about what’s going on in his life. “Oh that’s Aaron yeah I’ve got advanced chem with him, yeah good guy. I think he plays exy.” Aaron doesn’t want people to ask questions, because he knows he’s towing the line. Does he have it all together? Or is he desperately trying to keep all his shit in the boxes he’s stuffed it in? Who knows. Aaron probably doesn’t even know.

Aaron gives me “fake it til you make it” vibes that it actually hurts my soul. This man wants to be normal so bad that he’s doing everything he can to not have to address what’s actually wrong, because acknowledging something’s wrong means acknowledging that he is in fact NOT normal. And he wants to be normal because being normal is how you survive. (How he got Tilda to not beat him for dragging the wrong sort of attention to her)

My psych major mind is absolutely consumed by AFTG because to me they represent all the different ways that trauma can manifest in people. Basically all of the foxes (even and Renee Wymack) are the violent kind. Their teeth and warning signs, don’t get too close, don’t step on my toes. But they all show it so differently. Renee for example is the healed sort of violent, she’s faced the majority of her demons and won, she knows she’ll be able to handle you if you step out of line (see her ruining the nest). Nicky is the loud kind. He’s not the break bone sort of violent but he is the make you uncomfortable kind. So much of Nicky’s early character (Foxhole court) is him giving off borderline predatory vibes. His jokes, his mannerisms, the whole Edens trip. It’s his version of violent. He makes you uncomfortable so he knows whose safe and who isn’t.

Then you have aaron and his whole character is a ticking time bomb. Aaron isn’t normal because he’s healed, he’s normal because its the only way he knows to survive. That’s why he doesn’t like Bee. Bee is a psychologist, her whole job is to know their problems and fix them and the fact he even has to go sit in a room with her is a threat to his overall performance of normality. Because normal people don’t NEED therapy.

Screams into the void, I’m so normal about him.

Also all of this is just my personal little ramblings about a purely fictional character that reminds me of myself as it relates to the topic of interest I’m currently studying. If you don’t agree with me that’s totally fine, if you have different preconceptions about him thats totally ok too. This is just my little brain rot corner of the internet and I’m just trying to have fun.

To the 3 people that wanted to see my deranged psych rambles i hope this reaches you, this is all for you!

#all for the game #aftg #andrew minyard #aaron minyard #twinyards #star’s ramblings #psych major bullshitting on the internet #I’m just an oldest daughter putting my oldest daughter trauma on a 5ft blond #Aaron is so thought daughter coded you don’t understand #it’s weird bc in my head Andrew is older but Aaron is oldest daughter coded #paradox’s of twins ig #like 3 people wanted my deranged ramblings so here you go #please why am i so scared for this to be out on the internet #this feels like I’m posting my dairy entry for the world to see

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sassydefendorflower · 21 hours ago

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Holy Server B@tman! Fanfic Rec List 2.0

Hello and welcome back to a very special fanfic rec list!

The members of the amazing Holy Server B@tman! Server are an extremely talented bunch - many great artists and writers together in one place to foster each other’s creativity and joy to participate in fandom.

That has to be celebrated!

So, please welcome a list of stories our writers loved to create, their very own Greatest Hits!

(please click on your own discretion - you’ll find the appropriate warnings on ao3)

Fujiwhara Effect by byrambles / @byrambles

Fujiwhara Effect: When two tropical cyclones spinning in the same direction pass so close to each other than they begin spinning around a common center. Or: Dick is NOT a fan of Bruce’s new kid (seriously, WHO brings home a new kid weeks after the old one moves out and then doesn’t even have the courtesy to tell – ). When he gets trapped in Gotham by an East Coast hurricane, though, he has to figure out how to be in the same room as Jason without losing it.

byrambles's words: This was so much fun to write! I think it has a sweet mix of angst and fluff — plus a silly little surprise part-way through!

The Lines that Bond Us by canaf_lilah

Reclusive author Bruce Wayne's most recent book, The Bat Man, was a critical success and a mass market flop. As he struggles to make sense of a sequel, he shocks no one more than himself when he brings home recently orphaned Dick Grayson. Bruce could never have predicted the impact on his life - and his writing - the remarkably resilient young acrobat would have. Batman and Robin may only exist on the pages of Bruce's books, but that doesn't stop them from saving the people they touch.

Lilah's words: to me this is by far the best fic I've ever written. I'm determined to finish it one day, but don't be too put off by the incomplete status! It works well as a standalone.

red like blood (they won't wash clean) by silver_the_phoenix

Tim snaps. It's a lot bloodier than he thought it would be.

Silver's words: I started this one because Tim deserves to go a little feral, as a treat; and I finished it because I'm a simp for Good Brother Jason Todd.

Cared For by 1Zukoneedsafamily2 / @trashcollectshere

Jason smirked as he stood over The Replacement. He stroked the feathers of the splayed-out wings, before he gripped a group of feathers and yanked. Not hard enough to pull out feathers but he wanted him awake when the fun started.

Krys' words: also everyone loves a tower fic right???

Brother, Go Find Your Brother by sleepingcreep (JaySgrech) / @misplacedspleen

Brother, go find your brother: A method of finding something lost by attempting to lose something similar in the same way, in the hopes that it gets lost in the same place and both can be found. “You should match, right?” The grin cracked wider as the lanky captor rolled the knife between their fingers, strolling closer to where Tim was pinned to the wall. Jason didn’t comprehend what the creep meant, too focused on trying to pull his hands against the cuffs in the right way to pop his thumb out of place to get free. There are many years of scars between Jason and Tim before they match.

Jay's words: I'm reccing it because I'm proud of how the settings turned out and I think I wrote a unique take on Jason and Tim's relationship

dirt piling up, putting me to bed by rutaceae / @applejee

Jason never imagined that a simple trip to a bookshop could end with him trapped in the basement of a collapsed building with Tim, but you don't often get what you imagined when you live in Gotham.

Luka's words: i’m quite happy with how contained this little fic is (for me); i always wanted to stab someone, and have someone else panic so bad they don’t realise they’re fucked up themself. fun times!!

Do-Si-Do's Churros & Other Curious Things About Love by sElkieNight60 / @selkienight60

Being a beta in a house full of alpha’s is rough. Especially if you’re trying to be heard.

Selkie's words: I like it because I really enjoy reading Platonic Omegaverse stories, and the Batfamily are so unrepresented here, (I say, in the meaning that I simply crave more of them, there are truthfully quite a few out there, but I just enjoy them so much).

Maui Melon Mint by motleyfam / @motleyfam

In the case of Bats vs. Stomach Bug, there can only be one victor.

Motley's words: I had a ton of fun writing from Damian’s POV for a change and letting Alfred wear his sassy pants

Writer's Cellblock by pinstripedJackalope / @the-ghost-of-jason-todd

Mystery writer and father to five, Bruce Wayne has no great fortunes to fall back on. No reserve of social charisma, no family jewels. He no longer has a butler, though Alfred does his best to visit regularly. He is, in short, not the kind of man who can buy freedom. Heck, he can barely make ends meet some months. So you can understand the… concern… he feels when, late one night, two FBI agents come knocking at his door.

K's words: ngl it was hard to pick a fic, and i would have picked one with more than one chapter but i always did think this one was kind of fun

Golden Silence, Golden Yolks by BabblingBookends / @babblingbookends

Words between Dick and Bruce have never been easy. Dick talks, Bruce doesn’t listen. Bruce talks, Dick is expected to listen. Better if neither of them speak at all.

Babbles' words: If you watch a TV show for long enough, there will inevitably be some character moments in a diner, and I just think that's fun, hence this fic!

keep your head up (it's a cruel world) by lookforanewangle / @lookforanewangle

“If the past is anything to go on, sir,” he says kindly, “this boy will be in your care for a good many lifetimes, and you will do all you can to keep him safe, just like you have with the others.” Or, the Batfam/The Old Guard reverse verse au with Dick's introduction to the world of immortals

Lyss' words: I put a lot of work into this one and while I know reverse verse isn't everyone's cup of tea, I think it works best in this universe in this order, with many surprises yet to come, and room for this universe to grow!

A Promise to Stay by xerzi / @xerziartblog

No one needed Tim Drake, but Tim Drake still needed to be needed. And well, who better to choose than the one person who could never stop needing him? So inherently broken that his job would never be finished. Yet so unfortunately resilient that he would never be left the sole survivor. And so desperate to serve that he would never be betrayed again. In other words, no one else needed Tim Drake, but certainly, he knew there was someone who could make use of his particular skill set. - Tim Drake, 12-year-old independent adult, professional birdwatcher, is offered everything he’s ever wanted…for the low, low price of his verbal agreement. All he has to do is say yes.

Xerzi's words: I just want to put Tim Drake in a jar and try to figure out what's wrong with him…so I put TWO Tim Drakes in the same jar so they can work together to figure out what's wrong with them (and how to fix it)

The End of Man by AuroraKant / @sassydefendorflower

Dick Grayson wasn’t meant to be caged in, but then again… Dick Grayson wasn’t a murderer, and look at him now. (was this what insanity felt like?) Dick Grayson gets captured, forced to shift, and put into a cage - surely, this is the worst that can happen?

Aurora's words: Look... I always wanted to write a deranged Shifter AU in which Dick Grayson goes absolutely mental. What can I say? I love it when my boy is broken and covered in blood <3

Catching Stars and Comets by Faeriekit

From this tumblr prompt: "Reverse Robins AU but instead of making Damian oldest and going down the line so on and so forth, it’s a bunch of assembled weird vigilante-crime men and their accidentally adopted autistic eight year old rich boy, Bruce, who calls himself “batkid” for reasons beyond their mutual understanding of expected kid behavior."

Faeriekit's words: it's been a fun AU to work on, I hope people enjoy it, also it's got kids. It's basically an ageswap!AU where all the batkids are "villains" without Bruce's influence. And it was either this fic or the bees.

cardboard box by A_Canceled_Stamp / @a-canceled-stamp

Robin!Tim is exposed to Ivy's cuddle pollen. For the first time, he reaches out to Bruce for help. How he wishes he hadn't.

Stamp's words: this is my first hurt/no comfort fic and I am very happy with how it turned out! The comments I've gotten on it always make me cackle lmao

a flower called you has bloomed by dottie_dc / @dottie-wan-kenobi

The real problem is that, well. Last time Tim went undercover, he kind of… came home and embarrassed himself. It’s not that he’s shy about being seen in disguise, okay? They can all tease him all they want but it doesn’t bother him. He has way more blackmail on his siblings than they do him, so whatever. It’s just… Caroline Hill is a different story.

Dottie's words: I saw the inspo art and it gave me immediate motivation to write something, which was really fun. I loved writing it and seeing people in the comments be able to relate. queer headcanons my beloved <3

Of The Covenant by Kgraces / @kgraces

Dick Grayson is many things, and foremost among those, he's a detective. He can't stop himself from noticing things about Tim Drake — things that make him question not only his home life but his relationship with Bruce Wayne, too. (Things spiral from there.)

Gracie's words: I’m gonna toss my current longfic your way so hopefully it motivates me to work on it more lmao. It’s a Dick & Tim fic where Dick basically takes a look at all the adults in Tim’s life and goes “is anyone going to take care of this feral, unsupervised child? No? Guess he’s my responsibility now.”

Now and Then by librarylexicon / @librarylexicon

Dick’s spent the past few months recovering from an ordeal he’d rather not think about, so when Bruce asks him to spend quality time with Tim outside of their masks, he instantly agrees. Amid conversations, itineraries, nightmares, photos, revelations and a whole lot of chocolate, he and Tim navigate the Great Ocean Road—and learn more about themselves and each other along the way.

lily's words: Dick and Tim are my favourite Batboys, so I've been wanting to write a fic about them for a long time, because of their long history and close brotherly relationship in the comics. This story is a love letter to their bond, and I'm very pleased with the way all the emotional whump turned out!

How to tape a card castle by Fleur_de_Violette / @fleur-de-violette

Dick saves the new Robin one day. This is it. This is all. It’s not that he doesn’t want to have a relationship with Jason, it’s just that it’s too complicated. He doesn’t know how to deal with being an adult on top of being Nightwing. He can’t deal with Jason, with what Jason represents, on top of it. Except, when a small injury doesn’t heal up the way it’s supposed to, he ends up being the one who needs saving and he’s finally forced to face the new Robin.

Violette's words: This is my longest published fic so far ! I really enjoyed writing it, both the Robin Jason and Dick part and the little case stories in between and I'm happy about how it turned out!

See You At Your Worst by wildsofmarch / @wildsofmarch

Dick has only been a mob enforcer for six months, but delivering a shipment of guns to an up-and-coming crime lord in Gotham should have been easy. All he needs to do is win the man's trust and secure him as a repeat customer. Unfortunately, the Red Hood is not impressed with him.

Wilds' words: I like this one because I go ham with the identity porn!

The Nature of Things by FidotheFinch / @fidothefinch

After a mission gone wrong and a spat with Drake, Robin is benched. Worse than that: Damian is grounded. As serendipity would have it, it gives Damian the opportunity to facilitate the rehabilitation of the manor's new ward, a dog Batman rescued from a fighting ring.

Fido's words: I got to memorialize pieces of my childhood pups in this story, and it was my first fic in the fandom

in vitro by genericlesbian72 / @femmescooter

Shadow-girl did not know much. She didn't need to. But she knew her first kill would be for the baby.

Hedgehog's words: This fic was a challenge to myself on how Cassandra would view her first kill, without words to describe it, while also a take on ‘joining the Batfamily early’ for her that I haven’t seen much before.

this one takes the cake by carol_in_au / @carol-in-au

Jason took a sip from his glass, slowly, synching it with Bruce's words. Bruce cleared his throat, and continued with an authoriative tone that was so not him. "I have something to announce." Bruce Wayne has an announcement to make

Chrys' words: It's fast-paced, has a good comedic timing, a bit of fluff in some moments. When I reread it, I found it pleasant to read and I was quite happy I created it

presumptions by Valkirin / @valkirinii

Batman is away on a long mission with the Justice League when Red Hood attacks Robin in Titans Tower. Red Hood thinks that hurting Robin will get Batman's attention. He doesn't expect Nightwing. Nightwing doesn't know what to expect from Red Hood, Gotham's newest rogue.

Trixie's words: It's one of my favorites that doesn't seem to get as much attention. It's also really fun to let Dick Grayson be angry and intimidating.

Operation Friendship Helmet by goldenraeofsun / @raeofsoleil

When Red Hood meets Dick, he seems almost friendly, compared to the violent hostility he showed Batman and Robin. Maybe, if Dick plays his cards right, he can turn Red Hood from a crime boss to a vigilante. But the closer he gets to Hood, the question nags louder and louder: why does Red Hood seem so familiar?

Rae's words: This is the first time I really dove into my favorite trope, secret identities, complete with a big reveal at the end.

Roadtrip to Nowhere by Ghxst_Bird / @ghost-bxrd

“For the last time, I’m not modifying a car we’ll be ditching a few towns over.” “Why, you got better things to do?” “Yeah, getting food on the table, you leech.” Jason goes on an impromptu road trip with an ex-Talon and ends up running into a family member… who still thinks he’s dead. Oops.

Ghost's words: Calvin Rose deserves more love in this fandom!

Q is for Quintessential by writergeek / @writergeek

"Rodney...you're talking about altering the timeline here." Well...yeah. Wasn't that the point? "...I want you to have a backup plan." Of course he had a backup plan. At this point he could probably list them all by alphabetical order. Or...the story of the backup plan(s) Rodney never wanted to use to save 12 days 25 years 48000 years mankind.

WG's words: not a DC fic, it actually comes from my old fandom, SGA. i just... i enjoy the time loop shenanigans and the fixit nature of it (which needs fixing only bc i broke it shush), both tropes i adore reading (and writing, apparently)

Leaving The Light by TheCallOfTheSea

Jason is alive, but he has fallen. Can the Batfamily save him?

M&M's words: I enjoyed exploring Jason as a villain, but it wasn’t easy writing relentless angst! I still brought out his humanity in a way.

closet space by adelfie / @adelfie

“Hi,” she says in a breathless rush, then takes a moment to swallow and wet her lips. “I, uh, need your help?” “Are you dying?” “N-not exactly.” “Then you don’t need me,” comes Jason’s lazy, uninterested reply. The call ends with a click. . Steph doesn't know what's more embarrassing: that she's been locked in a closet during a party, or the fact that her "friends" aren't really her friends. And to top it all off, Jason's the only one who can come rescue her.

adelfie's words: I love that Steph isn't fighting a big bad villain -- there's something so soft and strong in realizing that other people's judgments aren't what truly matter.

penance by cuephrase / @cuephrase

After Tim dies, his soul remains stuck as a ghost at the Manor. Forced to watch Dick and Bruce grieve him and unable to do anything, the only thing making the afterlife bearable is Jason. Until the day his ghost departs. Tim assumes that Jason has passed on. But then the Red Hood breaks into the Cave. And for the first time, someone can see Tim.

Cue's words: i just had an inordinately fun time writing it!! there was a lot of catharsis in the process, and i’m very proud of the ending because i feel like i was able to preserve the fic’s bittersweetness- like the happy ending didn’t dilute the sorrow and instead they were able to complement each other

two vigilantes carry a cake across gotham by JBS_Forever / @jbsforever

In a scheming attempt to make them bond, Bruce forces Jason and Tim on what should be a simple quest: retrieve Alfred’s birthday cake from across town and make it back before the party. But this is Gotham. And nothing is ever simple in Gotham.

JBS' words: it's a story that centers around jason learning just how much crime alley appreciates him. it's also a sibling bonding fic between jason and tim

Ghosts From The Past by red_jaebyrd / @red-jaebyrd

Tim stared at an old poster of the ‘The Flying Graysons’ and his stomach dropped. He immediately fixated on the young boy’s smiling face with his eyes bright and full of life; frozen in time in eternal happiness. It was such a sharp contrast to the last memory Tim had of the youngest Grayson laying broken and still on the circus floor. Tim sighed. He wasn’t just at any old circus. He was back at Haly’s Circus where his nightmares had started and never really stopped. Or Bruce is Ghost Hunter and takes Jason and Tim with him to investigate strange happenings at Haly's Circus.

Jae's words: I wanted to try and write my own version of a no capes au adding in my own lore about the characters and their new world.

sons of sky by ScarlettSwordMoon, Kiwilart / @kiwilart

Dick is thirteen, leader of the Teen Titans, and already starting to chaff under Bruce’s thumb. When Bruce gets de-aged to fourteen, Dick thinks this experience will finally bring their partnership back to working order. It doesn’t. And then it does.

Scarlett's words: This fic has challenged me in so many fun directions. It is terrifying and exhilarating to write young!Bruce and to really try my hand at a big novel length plot line. Of all my WIPs, this is the most fun to work on because I'm working with an artist, Kiwili, who supports me during the loneliest parts of the drafting process, and also draws amazing art for the fic. I'm very proud of what we've done so far and very excited to be close to finishing.

we'll meet again some sunny day by Ms_Trickster / @ms-trickster

When Talia rests a hand atop her bed, the sound of paper crunching beneath it fills her ears.

Missy's words: Talia is a character that deserves a lot more depth and affection and it was a blast to write a story in which she is loved.

#batman #dc #fic rec #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #bruce wayne #damian wayne #stephanie brown #batfamily #batfam #holy server batman #fic rec list #brought to you by yours truly #cassandra cain #click the links at your own discretion!#AND BE PROUD OF WHAT WE'VE ACHIEVED

109 notes · View notes

courtingchaos · 23 hours ago

Text

Feast

Pairing: Eddie x Reader x Steve, past Eddie x Steve (set in my Line Cook Eddie AU)

Word Count: 9.8K

Summary: It’s a Graveyard Lake House Smash 🎃

A/N: When I tell you Woof, I mean WOOF. I don’t want to tell you all how long I’ve had this sitting in the crockpot. It’s surprising it didn’t turn to ash. Instead I got this! Struck by what I can only describe as mania I was able to finish this and edit it all with the help of @jo-harrington . Now I have many many MANY people to thank for this even being an idea for me to play around with and I won’t fill this page up with a bunch of tags. Those of you that were there for its inception know and that’s what matters. Talk about a fucking labor of love. I pulled this out of my own viscera, I hope you like it ❤️ (Also, reference is made to the fic Strawberry if you guys want to go look at that smut too, but it is not needed.)

Warnings: Drug use (cocaine, weed), Drinking, DVP, Unprotected sex, Sex while under the influence

NSFW 18+ No Minors

“Oh this is cute.” The flyer invite is bright orange and full of Eddie’s little doodles.

“Yeah? You like it?” Eddie leans over your shoulder. “Made it all by myself.”

“You even signed it, look at you.” You grab his chin and give it a wiggle before he plants a kiss on your cheek.

“Obviously we’re invited. I’ve got my costume all planned out already.” He heads into the bedroom and misses you pulling a face.

“Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I won’t be there.”

His head sticks out around the doorframe, “What?”

“Yeah, too many requests off. I gotta close.”

“Okay? You’re off at what, 9:30?” Eddie waves you off before disappearing in the bedroom. “I’ll pick you up and we can be to Steve’s by 10, 10:30. Piece of cake, piece of crumb cake.” He does his best Father Guido from inside his closet and it makes you laugh.

“I’m gonna be tired, Ed.”

“And I’m gonna have weed.” He reappears with a different hoodie on.

You huff. “I don’t have a costume.”

“I’ll find you one.”

“I hate bagged stuff!” You aren’t really arguing with him, just pushing his buttons enough to see where his exasperation will take him. It sends his arms over his head while he goes headlong into all the costumes you could put together with the shit in your own closet.

“So no bagged stuff! You could pull off a Nancy Downs or a Sidney.”

“Will you go as Stu?”

Eddie stands like he’s upset with you, arms crossed and voice dropping low for a moment. “You know damn well I’d have to go as Billy. Plus,” he flits his hand beside his face, “like I said I already have my costume.”

“You won’t tell me?” You don’t even fake your pout. “I need help with an idea! Come on!”

“It’s a surprise!” He shakes your shoulder and when you don’t stand he hauls you up by your hand so you can finally run errands for the day. “Look, when we’re done at the store I’ll help you dig through your shit and piece something together.”

By store he really meant every shop in town with a Halloween section and only a quick run into a grocery store for mac and cheese. One of your last stops is at a Party City where you’re staring at the wall of masks feeling a little dejected. Halloweens haven’t felt fun in a while and this one was shaping up to be just as disappointing. You’re eying one of those big articulated scarecrow masks when Eddie comes bounding up to you with a clutch of cellophane in his hands.

“I figured it out.” Is all he says before practically skipping back the way he came, right into the latex and spirit gum section.

“Ed I don’t want to do a whole thing, especially if I can’t wear it at work.”

“No this is easy shit, it goes on like a temporary tattoo.” He holds one of the thin packs up against your face before shaking his head and tossing it back on a hook. Another one he’s been clutching skims your cheek and his eyes light up. “No this is perfect.”

“You gonna let me in on this little secret?” You crane your neck to see what he has. “Is that a pentagram?”

“Do you still have that cheer skirt?”

You think you might know what he’s getting at. “The black and red one?”

He nods his head and picks up a packet of ‘fresh’ colored blood.

“Yeah.” And with that he’s off down the aisle again, beelining for the color coded tailgating section.

“If they have them in stock—hell yeah.” He holds up a red and a black pompom. “Cookin’ with fire now.” His grin is infectious.

“You know I don’t have any costume contacts, right?”

Eddie’s ‘pshh’ is so self assured. “With this it won’t matter.” He points at the pentagram transfer. “See? I told you I’d figure it out.”

In the small bathroom at work you feel only slightly ridiculous.

It’d been a few Halloween’s ago that you’d worn this skirt and now it’s a little more snug, sits a little higher on your thigh and hugs your stomach a little tighter. The cropped tee doesn’t leave much to the imagination and the thigh highs feel a little like overkill.

It’s cute, objectively. You know it but you still spend a little too much time staring at the back of yourself as best you can, making sure your whole ass isn’t out on display. A soft knock on the door reminds you of your faithful coworker waiting on you to finish up so they can run off to their own plans.

“Sorry, one sec!” You shove your work clothes into your tote bag and give yourself one last hard stare. “You’re gonna be fine.” You say with some finality to your reflection, black press on nail tapping on the glass.

Outside Eddie sits in his truck, idling next to your car and you take your sweet time strolling over to him. His eyes glint in his side view while the rest of his face stays obscured and you wonder just what costume he’s put on, right until you catch the tilt of his head and you see what sits there. Your pace quickens and you have to hold the hem of your skirt down when you all but run across the parking lot, stopping at his open window to stare at him wildly.

“Oh no, you did not.”

He most certainly did.

The cigarette clenched between his fangs glows in the dark cab, shimmering lips pulling into a smile around the filter. “Do what?” He asks like he has no idea what’s on his body. The run of chains around his neck clink and catch the light of the street lamps. From under his curls the tips of pointed prosthetics peak out, gold rings pierced through the latex. The matte red body paint lays in a thin layer on his face and just barely down his neck, his chest on full display under his barely buttoned black shirt.

“Not the Bard.” His hands glint with more rings than normal, jeweled gold he’d picked up at last year’s Ren Faire. You catch the black claws stuck to his nails and he laughs at your shocked expression.

“What’s wrong with my Bard?”

You gesture wildly at his whole being and you haven’t even started to look up at the horns on his head. Long red ones that curl against his crown, gold chains dripping off the curves. Painted bands shimmer just like the gold on his lips and you almost open your mouth to cancel your plans.

Eddie clicks his tongue at you like he’s read your mind. “Hop in quick, it’s like a 45 minute drive.”

You huff, hands still anchored on the window while you gawk at him. His make up is perfect, his clothes thrown on too easily. There’s a smokey scent that lingers, something not from his cigarette, and you wonder if he got into your perfume oils; Incense and wood fire swirling around him. He taps your knuckles to get them off his door and when you go to walk around the bed of the truck he just whistles at you, nodding his head towards the hood.

“No no, give me a little preview.”

You almost don’t give in. The doubt is trying its hardest to claw up your back but you ignore it and let the headlights cast your shadow on the building. Eddie’s delighted laughter rolls from his open window and when you get into the truck his hand finds the exposed swath of thigh above the socks.

“Told you it’d come together.” A firm squeeze and a straying pinky when you twist around to set your bag in the backseat, the soft pads of his fingers grazing higher under the hem of your skirt.

“You like it?” You sound a little unsure, like he wasn’t the one to lay the outfit out for you to give your seal of approval. It isn’t like you need his constant validation but it feels nice to let him ogle you every once in a while.

“If I didn’t have promises to keep I’d be taking you straight home.” He leans in toward you, careful of all his pieces and face paint, lips close but just out of reach.

“The quicker we get out there, the quicker we can get home.” You try to bridge the distance but Eddie pulls back, another sharp grin aimed at you.

“You should finish your makeup before we get there.” He taps the glove box before leaning back into his seat. “I saved you something for the ride over.”

He keeps his hand in place the whole way to Steve’s. Even when you pull out the joint he rolled for you, in the fun striped papers you’d shown him weeks ago. You relax and try to get your eyeliner done first before you’re too high to care and when you’ve finally put your bag away Eddie becomes your sole focus.

His hand might stay firmly planted but yours don’t. It starts off easy enough, plucking at his necklaces and pendants, letting them fall back on each other and clink. A twist of a ring on his free hand and pulling at the bracelet warmed by his wrist. You run a light finger along his pointed ear and you don’t miss the slight shiver that runs down his neck.

His neck.

You drop that hand and trail the tip of your fake nail over his skin to pull up goosebumps, carefully avoiding smudging any paint. He lets you drop a peck or two but he’s serious about not messing up his makeup, “at least not yet.”

Since you’ve been denied a treat, you pull lightly at his collar so you can nibble on his shoulder. Fingers trailing down the wide open valley of buttons, your other hand dancing across his lap to scratch at the seam of his jeans.

“You’re terrible.” He admonishes you but it’s all for show, if he was serious about you taking your hands off him he wouldn’t have grinned at you like that.

Halfway out of your seat and draped over the center console is how you spend the last half of your drive, an earring between your teeth while you distract him just enough to swerve a few times.

The lake house emerges along the horizon suddenly, almost like you’d been distracted by the button on Eddie’s jeans. The gravel crunches under the tires down the long drive and orange, green and purple string lights help direct you to the actual house.

Steve’s family’s lake house is a mimic of a rustic cabin, one big peaked roof and a massive back deck that wraps around the side. It looks like someone pulled a giant A-frame directly up out of the ground, Halloween decor and all. You stare up at it surrounded by trees, the big windows flashing intermittently with light, music thumping dully out into the sleeping nature.

“Whoa.” Actually you loose all focus of what’s in Eddie’s pants as you finally grasp the size of the property and the crowd outside.

“See? Could have missed all this if we’d just gone home.” Eddie parks and unbuckles himself so he can twist around carefully for the bag in the back. “Now sit still, I gotta put your pentagram on.”

That pulls your attention back to him, especially when he sets a water bottle down first. He peels the transfer apart and you watch him silently, lulled by a full work day and the haze of weed. He’s right, it does go on like a temporary tattoo and when a drip of water falls between your breast you giggle.

“Making a mess already?” You hold the edges of your cut up collar away so you don’t get it stuck and Eddie just shakes his head.

“Are you gonna be like this all night?”

“Do you want me to be?”

Eddie’s hand is flat against your chest to hold the prosthetic in place so you know he feels the uptick of your heartbeat. It’s close and cozy in this cab, close enough that you can see the corner of his mouth twitch and the crinkle of his light crows feet. His eyes drop from your chest to your cleavage and you lean in a little more, push your arms in a little tighter.

“Can I have a kiss?” Whispered just between you two. “Since I’ve been so good tonight.”

He hums, lips pursed, and checks on your pentagram instead. The paper lifts and his hand moves away and you follow him, lips leading to the golden shimmer you’ve been eyeing. It’s quick but it’s what you wanted, just a little more of his attention on you.

He huffs when you pull away. “See this is why I wanted to wait.” His thumb rubs against your chin and he pulls it back to show you the smear of red. “Now you’re marked.”

You think if you can crawl into his lap right now he might abandon this deal tonight. He looks at you from under hooded eyes, eyes that linger on your bare skin. There’s a moment when he takes a deep breath you think you can maybe break him with a well placed purr of his name but—

“Eddie!” The rap of knuckles on the window makes you jump and with it the spell breaks. Robin is waving at the two of you, grinning wide and unknowing of what she’s done. “You guys look great!” Her voice is muffled by the glass so Eddie opens the door and starts his personality up for the show.

You figure out that Robin has gone as Weird Barbie and you love it, especially because she’s obviously a few Malibu and Pineapple’s deep and she keeps you slung close while she directs you and Eddie around.

“Jon and Nance are Beetlejuice and Lydia.” She points in a vague direction of the house where you see neither of them. “Lucas and Max couldn’t make it because they’re doing the ‘parent thing’ obviously.” Her air quotes almost make her spill her drink and Eddie takes it from her with a sigh.

“It’s not even midnight yet, Rob.”

“Hush! I don’t actually know what the hell Dustin is, I think it’s a chemical compound.” She says out of the side of her mouth, gesturing at Eddie to give her a sip from her solo cup. “Will is an amazing Orville Peck, he made his own mask! The fringe is so long!”

You laugh at her pointing at meaningless areas, no one being where she thinks they are.

“And where’s our host?” Eddie asks, scanning the heads outside.

“Oh he’s been so lame. You know, he slapped a name tag on an hour before the party and called it his costume?” Robin looks so disappointed. “I offered to make him a Ken three months ago and he acted like I’d insulted him.”

“Well what’s he wearing? I’d rather him not blow up my phone.”

“Black hat, backwards like an asshole. Red sweater.” Robin drops you off at the doorway into the cabin and snatches her drink back from Eddie. “Name tag says ‘God’.” She leaves you with a heavy eye roll before slipping into the masses.

A quick schmooze around the open downstairs and you’re finally left to your own devices, drink secured in your hand.

“Now don’t go running off without me, okay?” Eddie puts a stern finger in your face and you snap your jaws at it. He ignores you. “I’m serious, meet me up in the loft.” He points the same finger upwards and you nod wordlessly. “Hopefully this shouldn’t take too long and we can go hang out on the dock.”

You frown. “It’s kind of cold out.”

“Oh no.” Eddie waves his hands at you, feigning being distraught. “I guess we’ll have to cuddle, oh no!”

You flip him off as he walks away and he blows you a kiss and immediately you begin timing him to see how long it will actually take him.

You don’t recognize anyone here. Maybe a few people from Stacy’s, some of the line cooks and waitstaff, but no one you can start a conversation with that wouldn’t end up feeling awkward. There’s the obvious close friends of Eddie’s but even they aren’t as known to you and even so, you’ve spotted them chatting with other people already. You sip on your drink and you sigh and resign yourself to waiting it out.

Leaning on the bannister of the loft you look down and spot Eddie animatedly telling someone something, his jewelry sparkling in the flashing lights. His voice carries sometimes, even in a party like this and you watch him with amusement. It doesn’t take long to loose him though and you pull your phone out to distract you, just before a flash of maroon catches your eye and you turn to find Steve looking surprised with two cups in his hands.

“I was trying to sneak up on you, how did you know?”

“I bet you’re one of those guys who doesn’t say ‘behind’ at work, aren’t you?”

“Oh no, I learned my lesson there.” He sets the drinks on the bannister and pulls up his sleeve to show you a silvery scar near his elbow. “That’s where I took a parring knife around a corner, I don’t fuck around in there anymore.” He laughs.

“Was it Eddie?” You ask like you already know the answer but Steve shakes his head hard.

“No, some other dude but Ed did yell at him for walking around with a knife held out in front of him. ‘What are you trying to do, shiv him?’” He puts on a face that you correctly guess is an imitation of an angry Eddie.

“Aw, did he look out for you?” You reach out and pinch Steve’s cheek and he swats you away, his ears flushing a bright red.

“Speaking of, where is he? He has my weed.”

“I don’t know, I lost him in the masses.” You gesture at the crowd below just as the music and lights change, making it darker and harder to make out a detail.

“Shit.”

“Shit indeed. My high is wearing off and there are too many people I don’t know here.” You finish off your drink and Steve is holding up one of his cups to replace it. You raise an eyebrow in question and he just swings it at you so you’ll take it.

“I saw you up here, thought I’d bring you a drink. Didn’t know how long you’d been here.”

Something about his expensive smile always makes you want to giggle. You know that he’s aware of his charms but even then you can’t help how easy he makes it. The flattery is always there, especially if Eddie is around, and if you didn’t know any better you might have the sneaking suspicion he was flirting.

“All by my lonesome?” You shake your new drink at him and he rolls his eyes.

“Not like that, I brought two in case Ed was up here.”

He’s always flirting actually, you think it might just be an integral cog of his makeup at this point. You’ve seen the way it slips into the most innocuous conversations with Eddie, though he’s always trying to banter.

You drop the sly accusatory look and shrug. “Good luck. I was told to stay put till he came back.”

“Or, and hear me out, we could go find him together.” He says it like it’s the best idea he’s ever had and honestly? You look around at the sparsely populated loft and check the time on your phone, noticing you’ve already wasted half an hour doing nothing.

“I’m in.”

An hour of wandering and you haven’t run into Eddie again. He didn’t ditch you, far from it. You know your blood covered boobs and incredibly short skirt wouldn’t leave his mind but you do know he how he loves to talk. Someone must have gotten him on a kick and he’s been passed around through groups, his storytelling making bursts of laughter float up from different corners of the party.

“Did he really tell you stay upstairs?” Steve asks, shouldering through a group with a short wave.

“Yeah, but he looses track of time at parties. You know how he is.” You’re a few drinks deep now so any annoyance has burned off, especially since Steve has been nice enough to walk around with you. The view from behind while you followed wasn’t bad either. It makes you smirk and you hide that in your drink, your wandering gaze following his long legs.

One more inside lap before you both stop at the kitchen island covered in bottles to top up and Steve finally calls it.

“Wanna go sit outside?” He nods his head towards the back deck. “Quieter.” He heads for the wall of windows where people filter out to sit by the water. You weren’t kidding earlier when you said it was chilly and you really hadn’t thought to bring a sweater with you for some reason. Steve notices you hesitate though and seemingly understands. On his way to the door he lifts the seat of a bench up and pulls out a blanket.

Water laps at the deck softly and the chatter dies down finally, the music a distant thump and you feel a little sober taking in the fresh air. Steve holds up the corners of the blanket for you and when you don’t immediately move in he shakes it at you.

“I’m not gonna bite.”

“Aw, really?” It slips out before you can catch it. To Steve’s credit he takes it in stride, barely breaking a grin when you finally snatch the blanket from him. He digs around in his front pocket for a moment and pulls out a crumpled pack of Marlboros. There’s one already tucked behind his ear and you’re about to remind him when he holds up a slim joint.

“I know this is a sad offering, but you want?”

As if on cue there’s a peal of laughter followed by a big splash and you step closer to Steve on the dock to get away from the rippling water. “Jesus, please.”

He eyebrows twitch up and he points lazily at the name tag. “Actually it’s God, but same-same.”

He pulls two Adirondack chairs together and you slide back into one remembering to keep your knees together so you don’t accidentally flash Steve. He holds the joint out to you with his lighter and you gasp theatrically.

“And a gentleman at that!”

It takes a few strikes to get the beat up bic to light and you can feel Steve staring. At first you think he’s judging your lack of finesse but when you go to hand him his lighter his eyes snap up from your legs, a tight smile flashed at you before he holds his hand out to take the joint back. He keeps the conversation light, he tells you about what this lake house used to look like and how much his parents sunk into it to remodel it. He makes small talk seem fun when he frosts his words in charm and you remember the last night he’d been particularly plucky with you.

“I.D.?”

“Steve it’s me.”

“Can’t trust it, gotta see I.D.” He shrugs and holds out his hand and gestures at you when you don’t make a move for your wallet. There’s not even a hint of a smile on his face and you wonder if maybe he’d gotten in trouble for giving you so many free extra pours.

“Okay, okay fine here.” Behind you Eddie is deep in conversation with Jeff about switching a shift and hasn’t noticed the third degree yet. When you finally get the plastic slipped out of your wallet Steve snatches it and leans back with it held up close to his face. He studies it like he’s never seen you or an I.D. before and he keeps flicking his eyes back and forth between it and your face.

A nervous grin breaks out of you when the situation isn’t changing. “Steve? Did I do-“

“There it is.”

“What?” You laugh through your confusion.

“I just needed to see that smile.” Steve hands your card back and slides your drink across the counter with an easy grin.

The high is returning and with it the questions that slip easily from your brain and straight out of your mouth. “Can I ask you something?”

It takes Steve a moment to tear his eyes away from the surface of the lake where it reflects the string lights. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Remember a few weeks ago when you did the thing with my I.D.?”

His eyebrows scrunch together hard when he tries to piece together what you’re saying. “Your I.D.? Did I loose it?”

You flap your hand at him to try to get him to remember. “No no, the smile thing.”

“Oh!” It dawns on him, his glassy eyes widening. “You like that? That’s one of my better ones.” He seems proud of himself for a pick up line.

“Were you just trying to piss Eddie off or do you just flirt with everyone?”

“Honestly?” Steve scratches his chin lightly, staring back off into the lake’s glassy surface. “I really like messing with Ed. He trusts you so I like to push his buttons.” He shrugs. “Also I do flirt with a lot of people, it gets me good tips.” His laugh makes his eyes crinkle and it makes you think of Eddie.

You take a break to find the bathroom, and to scan for your boyfriend, and when you come up without him you grab two beers from the massive cooler and head back outside. Steve seems a little more alert than when you left him and he points to a space under the deck where two people are cloaked in shadow.

“See that?”

You lean your hip into Steve’s shoulder to balance yourself as you squint, two things becoming harder to do especially together. It isn’t until a wig gets tugged off and both of you gasp, finally realizing that Robin has found a different Barbie. She tugs at Robin, hauling her towards the boathouse and Steve starts laughing.

“Should we help her or…?”

“Nah, she’ll find me in the morning.” Steve sighs and runs his hand up the back of your thigh.

Hm?

You run that feeling through your cotton stuffed brain again. The back of your thigh, the part that is so very bare and just under the hem of your skirt is hot, skin sticky where a palm sits now. It’s wide and a little rough and his fingers give a quick squeeze to the fat there and then proceeds to sit still. You move slowly, your head dropping down to stare at Steve’s easy posture.

“Steven?” You ask slowly.

“Hmm?” He looks up at you with not even a twinkle in his eye. If he were to move his thumb just the slightest bit up he’d be grazing the cuff of your ass and you wonder if he can even feel the sudden heat rolling off you.

“What’s that you got there?” You don’t break eye contact with him.

“Something soft.”

The giggle escapes before you realize it and something in Steve’s features shifts into what looks like pride. You don’t forget where you are so much as you take the bait and turn towards him, leaning down so you’re close to his face and can see the light dusting of freckles on the bridge of his nose.

“I think,” you whisper and cast an exaggerated look around, “you’re tying to get a rise out of someone.”

“Oh?” His cheeks flush, just a tinge of pink that catches your eye.

Steve’s head goes back with a tug of his backwards cap.

“Harrington.” Eddie makes his grand reappearance, seemingly stepping from the shadows to stare down at Steve who stares up in dumbstruck awe.

You’d noticed horns approaching when you’d leaned down and maybe it was the combination of liquor and weed but something bold had taken over, especially when you knew you had Eddie coming to swoop in.

“Finally finished your rounds? I’ve been waiting.” Steve asks your boyfriend, who keeps the bill of the baseball hat between his knuckles.

“You finally finished feeling up my girl? I’m waiting.”

You don’t expect that, the warmth in his tone. The little chuckle, the joking grin. Something about Eddie taking this on the chin makes you pay attention.

“Oh what’s a thigh between friends, huh?”

You can hear the edge in Steve’s voice now, the push to Eddie’s pull. That palm stays firmly planted on you while the two men stare at each other. It’s like they’re speaking in silent code, cats flicking their ears to get their point across. Eddie seems to give in first with a small shrug, letting go of Steve’s hat though his head remains lolled back to stare at the red demon above him.

“Is this imposter bothering you?” Eddie gestures at the peeling name tag stuck to Steve’s sweater and you think about it, honestly.

Where you are right now, is it bothering you?

The hand cradling the back of your thigh, is that bothering you?

The way Eddie seems to be reading your mind, his eyes bouncing between your own and the smile you just realized is warming up your face, does that bother you?

“No.”

This feels like earlier in the night. A heavy hand anchoring you to the moment. A little buzz from your warm high. You’re listening to Eddie smooth talk Steve but all you want is something tactile. Eddie crouches down so he’s eye level with Steve and they lean into each other to conspire, you’d know that look on his face anywhere. It’s one he’s shot you over countless drinks and through crowds and at dinner with friends. He’s got his mind set on something.

He’s too far away though for you to absently run your fingers through his hair so you grab the next best thing. The fringe sticking out from under Steve’s hat is so soft when you rub it between your fingers. Little flips of sun bleached brunette that curl up under the brim and around your finger, twirling between your press ons.

“How is your hair so soft?”

Eddie tilts his head just as Steve slowly turns to look at you with a confused smile. “I spend a lot of money on conditioner.”

“What’s it made of, spun silk?” You drag your nails up the back of his head and he shivers.

Eddie looks downright gleeful. “I told you.”

“Told him what?” Distracted by Steve letting his head fall into your palm you miss Eddie shooting his friend a look.

“How are you feeling?” Eddie asks suddenly. “You still wanna head out?”

“No.” You scratch Steve’s scalp and watch him melt down into the lounge chair. “This is fun.” His hand finally sides down to wrap around your thigh, holding you against him.

“Well Steve has told me something very interesting.”

“What’s that?”

“He’s got a little surprise I think you might enjoy.”

“Oh?” You grab a handful of hair and give Steve a light tug. “Did you bring me a gift?”

“It’s for all of us, actually.”

2 am and the party continues outside the heavy door to Steve’s bedroom. No one blinks an eye when you pull Eddie through the doorway minutes after Steve disappears in there. Not even a knock when Eddie kicks it closed and spins you around to face him.

“You sure about this?” He asks quietly, walking you backwards into the room.

“Absolutely.” You grin, nodding at him.

“Positive?” He holds your gaze to make sure you know he’s serious. Your hands clamp around his face and you pull him in close.

“Yes Eddie.”

Steve’s solid chest bumps into your back, the sweetness of his cologne bursting around you.

“You got it?” Eddie looks past you to ask Steve.

Steve huffs. “Yeah I got it.” He moves around behind you, digging something out of his pocket and his knuckles drag over your ass before his hand appears around you with a little twisted bag between his fingers. “You wanna do the honors?”

“Oh please, it’s your party.” Eddie plays with the hem of your skirt but he watches Steve untwist the bag. Eddie gives you a peck when he catches you trying to turn your head, pulls at your hips to make you face Steve and that self assured grin is present when Eddie holds you still.

“You ever done this before?” Steve asks when he holds up the baggie, eyes dropping to your lips.

“Uh, once. Didn’t really like it.” You watch him work while Eddie stands behind you and runs his hands right up under your skirt. He laughs into your neck and his breath slides under the ripped up collar of your t-shirt. “I don’t think I was with the right people.” You stare at Steve while he dips his index finger into the powder.

“You’ve never done this together?”

“Nope.” Eddie answers for you, his face peeking into your periphery. “Strictly a weed and liquor household, like god intended.” His laugh sends a zap through you, slowed and tingly against your current high. “Isn’t that right baby?” His hand sneaks up under your jaw where his fingers press into your cheeks making your lips purse and part slightly. When Steve’s fingertip grazes your bottom lip you open wider and both men laugh.

“Eager.” Steve says before his finger pushes past your lips and rubs down the side of your gums. The taste is an immediate bitter tang followed by the salt of his skin and you grunt quietly, closing your lips around him. “You’re telling me she’s not a natural at this?” Steve looks past you to Eddie, ignoring you tonguing his finger.

“Not with coke, but she’s real good with things in her mouth, aren’t you?” Eddie’s hand runs down the front of your throat and you hum in agreement. Steve’s finger pops out of your mouth and dips back into the powder, swirling around while he watches from half lidded eyes Eddie kissing along the back of your neck.

“One more.” He promises with a smile and when his finger dips into your mouth again you start to feel the tingle along your gums, something that dances up along your cheeks and zips through your hairline. It fights against the sluggish feeling of the weed and lights up a part of your brain that was trying its best to stay focused through the liquor. Steve is eyeing Eddie while the latter pushes up your shirt, an exchange again made through glances. Steve barely gets his finger out before his mouth is on you, his tongue pushing past your lips to chase your new high.

He’s so warm everywhere. His lips against yours and his chest pressing in and his hands that go right for your jaw those long fingers in the strands at the nape of your neck that give you a shiver up your spine and Eddie must feel those goosebumps when they sprout, they appear so fast and right under his lips and—

“Hey,” Eddie says, turning your head to the side “take a breath.” He breaks your kiss and you whine at the missing warmth of Steve’s soft mouth. “Yeah I know.” He soothes, running a thumb down your cheek. “You still gotta breathe.”

You roll your eyes and take a deep, dramatic breath to show him you still can. Beside you Steve sniffs off the back of his hand before he attaches himself to the side of your neck. His tongue trails over your pulse and Eddie holds your gaze and your chin before he leans in to kiss you.

The coke makes you less hazy, takes the soft edge of the weed and brings it into focus. The feel of Steve’s lips moving up your neck and Eddie’s fingers around your chin. His tongue in your mouth and his other hand slowly tugging up your skirt and Steve’s big palms running up your sides. You can hear the thump of the music outside that feels like it’s trying to keep up with your heartbeat.

There’s a hand pulling at your shirt, pulling it over your head and a hand running up the side of your neck and you hold onto the front of their shirts. You have the distinct feeling of floating while you get pulled and pushed and somewhere in the flurry of caresses you whine into Eddie’s kiss.

A break of lips on your skin and Steve’s shirt hits the floor and then your skirt is getting pushed down to meet them. The strappy set you’d picked out last minute, with all its crisscrossing bands over your hips and across your chest, form a rude arrow between your tits to guide their eyes.

Eddie stares and runs a fingertip under one of the bands to snap it. “Special occasion?”

You don’t answer him, too busy trying to get at his buttons to get his shirt off too. Those tattoos sing at you to be seen and you want to see the starkness of Eddie against Steve’s sun kissed shoulders.

Behind you Steve slides a hand up over your bra and the other down your spine, his lips on the back of your neck. It takes you a second to realize he’s trying to get you to the bed but Eddie notices and changes his stance. He knows how to move you around when he wants and he grabs you around the ribs to give you a push. It’s like all your other games now especially when Eddie starts to follow you back as you shimmy towards the pillows.

The clink of a belt buckle reminds you that Steve is still here. He holds out the baggie to Eddie. “Before you loose track.”

You notice it then, the lack of inebriation in Eddie. Sure he’d been a little toasted from the drive but while he made his rounds it seems like you and Steve were the only ones drinking.

“Actually, come here.” Eddie takes the coke but stops crawling toward you, instead sitting up on his knees and motioning for Steve. “Let me try something.”

Steve can’t get out of his jeans fast enough. He almost trips in his eagerness and Eddie uses it to his advantage. Steve’s flipped on his back with a laugh and all you can do is watch, fascinated with whatever Eddie has planned.

“Do you remember that time we all came up to see you play in college? Like all of us, I think it was the game you tore your shoulder.” Eddie looks down at Steve getting comfortable and throwing his arms out to the side. “That party the night before? What was that girls name?”

“Becca.” Steve says, shifting his gaze to look at you. “Stupid college fling.”

You nod wordlessly and start trying to unhook your bra without moving much. Eddie laughs and holds the baggie open so he can dip his finger in.

“Ah, Becca. She broke up with you the night before a championship game dude. That was cold.” Eddie acts like he’s swirling candy through sugar the way he twirls his finger around but the way you and Steve watch him it might as well be. “Remember how like, no one could find you in the morning? They thought you had gone off and drank yourself stupid over a girl, but where were you again?”

Steve just laughs but you want to know, you want to be in on the joke. Like most times it feels like Eddie hears your thoughts and he turns those big eyes full of mirth to you.

“He was actually passed out in the back of my van, naked.” Eddie gestures at Steve wearing only his boxers and smiling up at him. “This kind of reminded me of that.”

Eddie hovers over Steve, finger ghosting over his lips. “Open.” Steve’s grin splits and Eddie’s claw disappears behind white teeth. Dark ringed eyes flick up to find you where you’ve gone still against the pillows. He looks unbelievably wicked in this room, the gold shimmer on his lips barely mused from kissing you. He must have tossed the small fangs earlier but his mouth still poises danger while Steve sucks on his finger.

You finally find the momentum to drive off the pillows and over to the two of them just as Eddie follows his finger in with his lips. Steve lets a soft moan escape before Eddie covers his mouth with his own, gold staining pink.

You drop your shoulders mid crawl to stretch your hand into Steve’s hair again. You run it through the roots while you stare at them kissing, Steve groaning in the back of his throat when you pull.

“Like that?” You whisper so you don’t break their spell and Steve nods as he looks for something to hang on to. His fingers catch on your bicep and in Eddie’s hair and he’s anchored, hips rolling up into nothing while you tug on the crown of his head.

There’s a little bit of time that seems to slip away from you. One moment you’re watching Eddie take Steve apart and the next he’s moved you again, his arm slung around your middle to pull you flush against his chest, your underwear clutched in his fist, your thoughts soft

Steve watches Eddie’s tattooed hand slide gently around the front of your neck and he knows he’s in trouble. It’s both of you really, not just Eddie, driving him insane. He tilts your head back onto his shoulder and smiles down at you with what Steve thinks is pure adoration. When Eddie shifts his attention to Steve there’s a swooping low in his abdomen at the thought of being let in on whatever this is.

“Wanna help me out?” Eddie tilts his head toward you and that’s when Steve realizes that both you and him are fully naked. Clothes shed in the fast moments between kisses and yet Eddie still has his jeans on. Steve could break out his machismo here, could challenge this and let it be over quick and fast and typical or he could let the reigns go for a night. He thinks about letting himself not be in charge as Eddie moves above him while nudging you forward, knees straddling his hips and before he knows it he’s almost fucking you.

“That feel good baby?” Eddie’s teeth glint in the low light when he bites lightly at your cheek and leaves another mark of red and gold. You laugh breathily and nod your head, pushing your hips down just a little and the head of Steve’s cock pushes in. Both of you gasp and Steve thinks he feels a tear escape. The immediate wet surrounding him and the little display Eddie is putting on above him goes right to his balls and for a moment he thinks he won’t last past this. Eddie’s other hand trails down your stomach, fingers seeking further and further until they reach your bush and the gold rings distract Steve for just a second before they sink into your folds.

You crumple and slide down his cock further and Steve is trying to be respectful, as respectful as he can be, but he’s testing his own limits. A swift buck of his hips and he’d be home.

“I think you should give Steve a break, he looks like he’s loosing brain cells.” Eddie keeps you pressed to him, head lolled back and mouth open and panting, hips searching out his teasing fingers on your clit. “C’mon, give it up for Stevie.” He fake pouts at you and then turns it on Steve.

“Fuck you Ed-“ He’s cut off by the fall of your hips now seated flush against him. Everything about you is warm and wet and soft and amplified. His hands fist into the sheets beside him in an attempt to keep them to himself for the first time tonight, an attempt that Eddie calls out.

“You can touch her Steve, she isn’t gonna break.” He demonstrates this by digging his fingers in a little around your neck and you squeeze around Steve in response. “You want him to touch you, right?”

“Please.”

“Oh, she’s asking so nicely.”

Steve tries to think back to the first time he ever made a passing comment about you and wishes he could kick himself. He’d gone into this night with one other threesome under his belt, some half met happenstance from ten years ago. It’d been sloppy and messy and he’d bent the two girls around to his will but this? He’s unprepared. Any and all of his personal history with Eddie should have given him some kind of clue, but the two of you really are nothing but a flashing red light of trouble.

Your knees dig into his sides while one hand ghosts over his abdomen, looking for purchase. Eddie still holds you close but keeps his eyes on Steve, a suggestion in his gaze.

“Go ahead.” Eddie purrs and Steve finds himself lost in more than just his high. If he didn’t know any better he’d be convinced of his friend’s true nature, a pest of a demon hellbent on driving Steve certifiably insane. However he finds his hands running hot over your thighs and up your sides, over your stomach and under the swell of your breast. Anywhere he can run his hands over the soft skin you’d kept barely hidden all night, skin that he’d been staring at.

Eddie chuckles when Steve finds a nipple, a fierce pinch to it making you gasp and roll your hips and Steve can’t help himself anymore. He grips and thrusts up to punch a sharp moan out of you. Eddie’s fingers stay buried in your cunt and splayed across your throat to keep you pinned to his chest. Steve’s immediate fast pace makes you bounce and he’s transfixed when Eddie sneaks a finger into your hanging mouth to hold your jaw open.

“You should hear her.” He drops a kiss to the corner of your mouth before letting go, lowering you to lay on Steve’s chest. A whine comes from you, a deep sound that pitches up when Steve shifts to hold you in place. He already sits so deep but when he winds his arm around your neck to hold you close you gasp. You can feel Eddie move on the bed, can feel his hand run over your ass, can feel the brush of his suddenly freed cock along your inner thigh. Steve adjust you so your cheek is flat against him and pulls at your hip to spread you open for Eddie.

“Fuck now isn’t that a pretty sight?” His thumb is rough against such sensitive skin when he glides it around your cunt. You try to move your hips as much as you can but the angle you’re at only affords you short rolls of your hips.

“Oh you can do better than that for Steve, can’t you?” Eddie teases and you whine into Steve’s chest.

“He’s being mean isn’t he?” Steve whispers to you. They both laugh at your groan but Steve shushes you, palm rubbing over the back of your neck where he holds you down. “I’ll be the nice one then, huh?”

Struck dumb by the feeling of Eddie pushing forward ever so slightly, all you can do is nod. He tilts your chin up to hold your gaze, his pupils blown out wide and dark and you wonder if yours look just as big.

“Can I—“ Cut off by the feeling of something cold dripping on your ass you almost sit up out of Steve’s grip before Eddie giggles a quiet apology and tosses a little bottle of lube over the side of the bed.

“What do you want?”

“Coke.” The zing is fading and you want to feel it again. The race of goosebumps across your bared flesh. The tingle over your scalp as Steve’s finger glides along your teeth.

Eddie laughs and reaches over to grab the bag and hand it to Steve, tasking him with your request. Still held in place, Steve brings his finger, wet now and dipped in white again, back to your mouth. His finger rubs your gums again and the head of his cock nudging deep and the feel of Eddie’s pressing where Steve already is and you don’t know how much more full you can get. It’s a stretch just with Steve but the insistent pressure from Eddie, the feel of his cockhead popping in makes your breath catch. He’s being careful, just so careful but that need to feel everything and move and moan takes over again and Eddie puts a heavy hand on your back.

“Breathe, baby.”

Instead you whine, held between two solid bodies that keep you still, that stroke your spine and run rough fingers into your hair to keep you from spinning out.

“That’s a pretty sound.” Steve says lowly and out of the corner of your eye you watch him hold his hand up to Eddie who sucks that same finger into his mouth.

The thought is brought to the forefront of your mind quickly, the image so clear and grounding, of Eddie sucking your purple strap. It stops the other spinning thoughts and that initial head rush fades. Against Steve’s chest you mumble about Eddie’s pretty sounds, dazedly watching Steve’s long finger pop out from between those gold lips.

“What was that?” Steve sounds a little breathless.

“Eddie makes pretty sounds too.” The images shuffle in your brain. “When I fuck him he whines and it’s like he’s about to cry or something it’s almost too much.” Behind you Eddie laughs and thrust his hips and you choke on your words, his cock pushing further in and stretching you more. Steve’s laugh turns into a hiss and the hand on your neck clamps down when Eddie’s cock rubs against his.

“Keep talking.” Eddie is breathless but still the only one not blissed out. “You gonna tell him how good I look sucking dick?” He rocks his hips forward gently and ghosts a palm over your lower back. “Steve already knows about that, don’t you big guy?” Eddie teases before leaning over you to catch Steve’s eye. The smear of gold on his bottom lip drives Eddie crazy and the laugh turned stuttered moan when he drives deeper into you makes him wish he had more than just two hands.

“Or maybe Steve can tell you about when I’d drive out for those big parties.”

You like it when Eddie’s gets mouthy. When he starts sparring to get the upper hand. You’re smiling into Steve’s chest with just the barest glimpses of Eddie above you. He rocks in and out of the corner of your vision and under your ear you can hear the rumble of Steve trying his best to keep it together.

“Remember almost getting caught in the frat your freshman year? What a bunch of dumbasses.” Eddie’s laugh has an edge to it now and your chest swells with some kind of pride that he’s finally starting to falter.

“Yeah…b-because you c-couldn’t shut up.” Steve finally speaks, his hips starting to falter the slow rhythm he’d been keeping up. “It’s why we had to mo-ve to the van.”

Eddie’s hand appears when he lays his whole body on you so he can reach for Steve’s hair to give it a tug. The change in angle and Steve’s moans cancel out any quip you were trying to cobble together, a calm instead seeping in as the coil low in your abdomen begins to tighten. Eddie runs his mouth but you can’t pay attention to him with the way him and Steve seem to work in tandem for a blissful moment.

It’s too much and it’s not enough and you pant and whine and scratch at Steve’s chest. There’s no more rhythm then, just the snapping of their hips against you while they race to their own ends. Steve grips you hard before he slams his hips up one last time and stills, a long groan from deep in his chest your only warning before he cums. It’s a chain reaction of Steve going boneless and Eddie cursing behind you, picking up pace and bullying that tender spot enough to make you seize up. It sneaks up on you so fast, makes you loose your breath for a moment. A leg shaking orgasm, your fingers wound tightly enough in Steve’s hair to make him hiss, all you can hear is the guttural groan coming from you and Eddie’s praise. It tumbles out of his mouth with little sense and you know he’s done in when his thumbs rub tight, fast circles on your hip before he stills.

Hearing and speech aren’t really a thing for you yet but you do grunt in appreciation when Steve seems to come to some of his senses and reaches up to pull the stupid horns off of Eddie’s head that’s resting between your shoulder blades.

“Thanks.” Eddie’s breath fans over your sweaty skin and he makes no attempt at moving yet. Someone has fingers in your hair, you can’t tell, and Eddie is rubbing his face against you and giving you little kisses along your shoulder. Steve’s breathing is finally calming down and in turn it makes you even out too, realizing how sticky you are everywhere.

“I hate to break this up,” Your voice is scratchy and small coming from between them, “but I need to go to the bathroom.”

You stumble back into the room, falling down into the bedding and Eddie slithers up from where he was sitting at the foot of the bed to leave a trail of kisses all the way up. He winds himself between your legs and drapes them over his hips and continues to leave kisses up your stomach and over the peeling prosthetic on your chest. He dots your neck and cheeks and all around your mouth before he finally gives you a real kiss. He makes you giggle with his doting and when he tries to put your underwear back on for you but the straps outwit him. Instead he tugs on the sheet beneath you and tucks in around you, leaving your clothes on the floor for later.

“Do you need anything?” He says it quietly, thinking Steve is dozing beside you. “Other than water I mean.”

You’re tired and achey and still high from various things and all you can think to ask for is: “Crackers.”

“In bed?” Eddie gives you an unbelieving look but when you just grin sleepily at him he shrugs. “I won’t kick you out.” He gets up slowly and kicks stuff around on the floor to find his own shirt when the shifting of bed springs grabs his attention. Steve is seemingly trying to sneak out of the bed without saying anything, keeping his back to the two of you while he toes his underwear over to himself.

Eddie waits for some kind for acknowledgement but when it doesn’t come he clears his throat lightly. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He says it like he’s surprised that you and Eddie are still there. “I’m gonna get out of your hair…I gotta make sure no one set anything on fire and like, find Rob…” He looks around for his pants and won’t meet Eddie’s eyes.

“I’m just going to get water, you don’t have to leave. It’s your room anyways.”

“Well I’m not kicking you guys out.”

“Steve.” You don’t mean to admonish him but that’s what happens. With the sheet tucked up around your chest you pull on the slack to show the other side of the bed. “Get back in here.”

He doesn’t move, just sighs deeply and reaches for his cigarettes.

“I’m serious.”

Eddie watches you point at the empty spot with some finality and he almost tells Steve it’s in his best interest to listen to you.

“I just—“

“It’s cold. I’m cold. Get back in the bed.” You slap the pillow. “Please.”

Steve does look at Eddie then with concern and all Eddie can do is chuckle. “I’d get back in there unless you like spit in your iced lattes for the next however long.” He leaves for the promised water and Steve sits on the edge of the bed and acts like you’re making him go to the dentist.

“Hey, if you want to leave you can, I was trying to be funny.”

“I didn’t want to intrude.” Steve sighs and throws himself back onto the pillow. “You guys were having a moment.”

You pull a confused face. “Do I need to remind you what we were just doing?”

“No.” Steve laughs.

“Because I can’t give you graphic detail but I can tell you that I got pretzeled up pretty good.” You reach over to rub a hand over his chest, running your fingers through the dark curls. Eddie sneaks back in and you notice the music isn’t at the level it was when you came in here.

Around the blinds is a light blue border bleeding in and you would really like to bury your head under the covers and keep petting Steve. Eddie makes you drink water though before anyone can get comfortable, even bullies Steve into finishing his. Eddie does his normal and climbs into bed to immediately lay half on your back, his arm flung over to mess with Steve until he relents and tilts his head over so Eddie can twirl a strand around.

Tucked between the two of them you’re almost asleep when you remember something from the heat of it all and you shake with silent laughter.

“What?” Eddie asks and Steve gives you a half awake eyebrow raise.

“You know he’s a tiefling right?”

That wakes Steve up a little. “What?”

“Yeah, his tiefling bard. You called him a demon earlier and it made me laugh.”

Steve sighs and ignores your sleep talk and you try to expound but the heavy, comforting weight of Eddie and Steve’s warm chest under your palm cut you off before you even realize you’ve fallen asleep.

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson Fic #Eddie Munson x Reader #Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington Fic #Steve Harrington x Reader #Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington x Reader #My Work #My Fic

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dayxero · 2 days ago

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TL;DR - Because a relationship between two or more people, defined by falsities, isn't what the average person wants.

-Because for most people, the mask they wear, isn't their true self. Its the face they wear, the expressions they show, the impression they put on to hide who they really are underneath and how they really feel. The desire to peel back this layer to reveal what's underneath typically, at least from my experience and from what others have said and said themselves or told me, it comes down to two major reasons.

-1: People who are used to putting up a front because those around them, cannot or choose not to understand them. This situation can make a person feel so utterly and profoundly lonely that it often times draws them into dark or unsettling places within their own minds. Just to be noticed or accepted or to avoid shame or being rejected, the mask remains, but it means that person rarely, if ever, gets to express who they truly are, unabashedly. Sure, anyone with a high sense of self worth or a massive ego would respond to such a notion with something along the lines of "Just be yourself, no matter what happens." But our lives are filled with so many different various different connections, relationships and circumstances that many times, the average person can't afford to be themselves 100% without consequence. The desire to see characters have their masks peeled back to expose who they truly are underneath and be accepted for it, is a primal urge we all seek in one form or another. We want to be loved, seen, valued for both our benefits and our faults. But many times, many people cannot truly express their true selves to even begin to make that connection with someone else and thus, the deep desire to live vicariously through other characters experiencing such a thing is born within those types of people. The desire to tear off their own masks, completely without fear and to be accepted for it, is also what they want from characters they like and can relate to, who are also doing the same thing as them

-2: This is more outwardly in a way and a bit more complicated but ultimately just an inverse of 1. When a person is trying to form a connection with someone they're being open and honest with, be it friendship, partnership, romantic, etc, that person instinctively wants the other to also be willing to share nearly the same level of forwardness, honesty and transparency. Its innate.

-Now of course I need to preface this by saying everyone has a right to withhold aspects of themselves they don't wish to share. If they so choose, maintain as much privacy about yourself as they want. And furthermore, no one is entitled to the same level of trust and affection offered by someone else.

-In spite of that however, attempting to form a bond with someone, one that is genuine and respectful and direct, only to receive lies, falsities and deceit from that other person, isn't exactly a good feeling. People who are trying to connect with others don't enjoy being lied to, pushed away or led down fake paths because they want a real connection, and this also bleeds into what they're reading/watching. When they see a character trying to form a connection with others, create barriers and hide who they really are and their real intentions, all the viewer can see is someone who is a self-prophesied failure in their own desires. A character that truly manifests the concept of genuine victimhood where they desire one thing but actively create the very same problems that causes their own suffering and misfortune, but still crave empathy and sympathy. That level of self-destruction can be very annoying to watch for people who've reached a certain state of self-awareness and maturity for a wide variety of reasons.

-There is a number 3 as well but I think this is too long and too deep as well for a post like this. If could be one for venting, or one seeking a genuine curiosity, don't know. However since the thought was put out into the ether, I responded to it in kind. But anyways, that's at least 2 out of the 3 major reasons I've personally seen as to why people prefer relationships between characters who remove their masks and show who they really are, than characters who base a connection off of falsehoods to hide aspects of themselves from the world and people around them.

personally I do not understand the obsession with revealing whats underneath the mask a character wears all the time. as far as I’m concerned that mask IS their face. do NOT peel them. that’s the same as the beast from beauty and the beast turning into just some guy at the end

#narinders veil #lamb x narinder #cotl narinder #cult of the lamb narinder #narinder x lamb #cult of the lamb #the one who waits #cotl lamb #falsehood #deciet #fictional romance #viewership #pretentious nut just rambling about their thoughts feel free for anyone to at me

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cloveroctobers · 2 days ago

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CUT TIES — Terry Richmond [Fall Crumbles] 🤎

A/N: There’s enough Terry to go around right? This is inspired by two things…OFC a song + taking another chance at writing something influenced by Love is Blind. Who saw that wasteful reunion?! Anyways that is what this is so get ready for angst.

WARNINGS: Reference to a intimate moment but a line at best?

જ⁀➴ ༄ જ⁀➴ ༄ જ⁀➴ ༄ જ⁀➴ ༄ જ⁀➴ ༄ જ

11:32pm

FROM: T. Richmond

I Need To Hear Your Voice…Can You Call Me?

Was the text message he sent you, which made you let out a long exhale.

11:43pm

TO: T. Richmond

I’m at work T [Deleted] Terry.

11:44pm

FROM: T. Richmond

I’m Aware. I’ll Feel Better When I Hear Your Voice…And I Know You’re Probably Saying That I’ve Got A lot Of Nerve To Say That To You Right Now…Yet This Will Always Be True, No Matter How Things Ended.

You were glad Terry can acknowledge that he did in fact have nerve requesting a call from you, when the both of you already had that final closure conversation weeks ago…however here he was back again, entering your life whenever he pleases.

Picking up your phone, after watching it ring for a while you debated about letting it go to voicemail honestly. You really didn’t need to hear many more angles about whatever situation Terry got fucked over in. Things seemed to be going well lately though, at least that’s what he tried to portray on social media…which was also new for him.

Always the type of man to be lowkey and out the way but after the exposure of being contestants on a certain love show, he stepped out just a little. It was never too much, Terry wasn’t the type of man to be in your face about his blessings but if things went south, then he had no problem stepping to you if common ground couldn’t be located.

“Hey,” He starts, his deep tone sounded as if he was ready to go to sleep, possibly lying down, whereas you were wired on your night shift, “Sorry for bothering you—

Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help but to let it slip through your lips, “Are you though?”

He hummed, “Nope, can’t say that I am, to be real with you.”

“Well, can’t ever say you failed at honesty.” You replied with a hint of sarcasm which made Terry chuckle humorlessly, “What’s up? What was so important that you needed to be on my hotline right now?”

It was Terry’s turn to roll his natural underlined eyes but he’s not trying to pick a fight or even think about you with someone else, “…the house is too quiet and I couldn’t sleep. The first person I wanted to talk to, to ease the loud silence…is you. I believe that’s how it’s always gon’ be.”

Not long after you called it quits, Terry closed on a house that he’s been eyeing long before he decided to go on the show. It was meant to be if they couldn’t get it sold. He of course talked to you about it once you were out of the pods, saying how some rooms needed Reno and asked your thoughts on if that could be your main home once married. Thankful that you already had your home that you owned at such a young age, You spoke about how much you already invested in your home and how you had no plans of selling just yet even if you two chose to get married.

Which isn’t something that he wanted you to do but questioned how this would work. He wasn’t down with sleeping in separate houses, although Terry knew it would take time to get everything right, the house he bought was livable and he wanted that with you.

Something that Terry always admired about you is, that you had your own mind and drive to do what you felt was best for you. He respected it, had to really learn how to when you said you two needed to put some distance between you after a final argument got too heated.

“…I’m sure you’ll get used to it at some point.”

“I don’t know if I agree with that.”

Terry listened to you sigh.

“I’m going to say something you won’t want to hear but I’m saying it anyway,” you start as you lightly flick your feathered pen back and forth at the desk, “You’re going to have to get comfortable being alone in that house, Terry. I know you’ve been used to being a lone wolf majority of the time…but you officially settled somewhere now and you’re building a life outside of the danger you once knew. Which I’m proud of by the way but you’re going to have to start finding comfort elsewhere or with yourself because I’m not going to provide that to you anymore.”

Terry was afraid that you were going to say this one day. Usually you both were good at having balance when your relationship was solid, giving each other the space needed and showing up when needed. Everything just took a turn once the chaos showed up again at Terry and his cousin, Mike’s business. This was the first time Terry ever lied to you and that came at multiple costs. It blew up in his face because leaving you in the dark and not communicating with his fiancée? led to being stalked and a home invasion that still haunted you.

Terry would always be sorry for that.

From bliss to passion to heat to closure to yearning. It was all stages of what this relationship was, for Terry it was the process of your love story whereas for you, it was part of your origin story.

“What if I say…I’m finding that’s not what I really want?” Terry speaks, “…That I don’t see much of a future without you in it? We talked through that hurdle, we wished each other the best after the reunion but what if that’s not enough for me? What if we’re each other’s best?“

This was another side you predicted would happen. One thing about you is, your mind was always turning just like the earth spinning on its axis. Which took another turn in your argument, speculating things that weren’t true once you found out that Terry lied about some new men targeting him. You predicted that once you both tried to move on and live without each other, the other would crack. It happened before, a month after the reunion when his aunt invited you to her forty-fifth birthday party. Your friends told you not to go and that night made you weak for Terry Richmond.

So weak you couldn’t feel your legs for days, Terry knew your body so well, had no problem burrying himself deep downstairs in his aunt’s basement, green hues trained only on you, while having your legs in the perfect V over his shoulders, and that man was a mountain.

A dangerous one.

Now it was your turn to fully stand on business and the year was coming to a close so you didn’t need Terry to find new ways in.

That was supposed to be understood but you both fumbled that at the party.

You had enough time to figure out what was best. Of course you experienced the what if’s yourself, been as loyal as they came but a structured life of constantly looking over your shoulder was just not it to you. To no longer feel safe with the man you thought you would grow old with. Now you had the world weighing in on what they’ve seen on their tv’s and online—you can handle challenges—you worked as a nurse on the oncology floor, however you have to be smart enough to realize when it was too much and that was enough to walk away.

“At a time we were,” you finally answered before reassuring, “Everything you’re feeling is valid. I hear you. I’ve been there and got through that. You will too.”

Terry’s silence was as potent on the phone as what he probably felt like the inside of his home was. The scratching of the branch that was too close to his bedroom window was similar to the clawing you were doing to his heart. He didn’t want to lose you for good, call him selfish but he didn’t want to just forget the unique connection you built.

Although he felt disrespected with the way you spoke (yelled) to (at) him during your breaking point, he was willing to come back and work through it but ultimately it felt like there was no trust there anymore. Terry did feel like you were looking for a way out because you two were “too” good together, unfortunately this was too big of a situation to come back from.

The stubborn one out of the two, Terry can sense that you already had your mind made up. Two tough conversations were had, one behind the scenes and another for streamers to dissect and formulate their own opinions on, should have been enough but Terry always kept his cards close. You were his most precious one, yet you were telling him how to store it away back into the deck for good.

“Is this really what you want? To fully walk away?”

A hint of annoyance hits you and could be felt as you start, “We went over this—

“So us going two rounds that day meant nothing?”

Sure it did.

“Terry that was goodbye, you had to have known that. The last hurrah. So let me make it clear this time without raising my voice because I know you hate that—and I’ve been working on it—I’m cutting ties.”

Half expecting the line to go dead, you still find yourself holding your breath as the quiet goes deadly silent. Until you hear shuffling on the other end, Terry’s sitting up on the edge of the bed now, feeling a stress headache arrive right on both sides of his temples which then radiate to the back of his neck.

“I don’t want this to come off the wrong way…but I love you. I need you to know that.”

That was obvious but again, sometimes love isn’t enough.

“Don’t do that.”

“What’s that?”

“Trying to find other angles to make this work. We tried after the big argument—that spark isn’t the same and would never be the same.”

Terry huffs, “Maybe we didn’t try hard enough.”

Grasping at straws, was not necessarily in Terry’s nature. He also knew that statement was just not true. Both of you put your hearts on the line and this was something the both of you would have never taken so lightly.

“…don’t let your loneliness overshadow what can’t be managed. We been made our decision but this is me finally enforcing a boundary.” You inhale air through your teeth before continuing, “You are headstrong, very structured and lived a life that I know nothing about if it comes knocking at our door again. What happens if we brought kids into that? It’s not that I don’t believe you couldn’t keep us safe, it’s the fact that our lives would always be at risk even if it’s not something you intentionally brought to the table.”

“We take risks every time we step out the door. That’s what life is,” Terry tried to reason, “I tried to leave the life I lived prior behind me, which is why I like to keep to myself and not open up. You changed that. I know we’ve been over this countless of times…I just don’t know if I’m ready to completely cut the rope. To never have you around is…a scary thought.”

In a minute, it wouldn’t just be a thought.

“It’ll be as if before we met. I’m not saying it’s easy by any means but I’ve accepted the art of letting go. Ending access to each other for real this time, does not automatically mean we never loved each other or there isn’t any more love there. If we fell back into each other, it would be a repeat of all the pieces we wouldn’t want to live with. It’ll be hard to fake and deal with.”

“Deal with?” Terry echoed in a tone that oozed frustration, “I’d be willing to be a team.”

“Then why wasn’t that taken into consideration when those men shot up your business? Or me being stalked by one of those men at work? Then being followed home.” You felt your blood pressure rising at what you thought you forgave—but everything is a process, “Or when Summer and I went out to lunch, just to find out that she knew about the drive by before I did? Or how I almost got ran over on purpose in the parking garage at work? That didn’t feel like team work. I was in the dark when we needed to continue to be a piece of each other’s light from the damn sun rays. Being the last to know often, did not make me feel like a priority. I feel like that part of you, you wanted to shield me from all the time…so now I’m going to be a shield on my terms.”

Terry Richmond never wanted to be responsible for changing the trajectory of someone’s entire life in a negative way. Although you said the love shared wouldn’t just vanish, it did feel like you thought about it and had time to sit on it.

He could make this easy and give you what you wanted, should have and it was once something he actually agreed to. However people change their minds all the time and he never saw himself falling out of love with you.

It wasn’t about being trained, it was about being in love.

He clears his throat, “I had no intentions on making this conversation out to be difficult…I knew I’d get push back, it’s one of the things I love about you,” Terry says, “I just wanted to let you know that I miss you, that your voice is actually what makes me feel safe and probably always will. And that I hope I’d get the chance to love you more in every lifetime. That was part of what I wrote to you in our vows by the way and I still stand by those words. If I had more time, those words would be actions. I’d make up for it, if you just let me.”

Him saying that over the phone, did make you feel a way. It made the back of your eyes burn but the shield was already in the works of being fully up. You didn’t need to hear this, you never doubted Terry’s love for you but it was over, you had the scissors slowly running along what kept you connected. Terry didn’t get the choice to go back on the agreement, yes people change their minds all the time but there was no time to compromise.

“There’s no use in crying over spilled milk, Terry.” Is all you can say, leaving each other to listen to each other’s breathing before the man is finally hit with the call ending.

He’s left holding on tightly to his phone, taking in the sound of autumn’s whipping air outside of his home. Tossing the phone behind him on the bed, Terry gets to his feet, determination shining his in his eyes while he begins to put his mind elsewhere opposed to holding onto you.

As you sat at the front desk, you snapped out of the dissociation that wanted to creep in, to place your phone on charge. Then grabbed onto some scissors returning back to the craft project you were working on to help decorate this level of the hospital for the holidays.

Snip!

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More autumn anthology prompts here.

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