#they DO indeed kiss after and live happily ever after

[thefreakandthehair]

winter sports.

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | prompts: winter sports | wc: 478 | rating: teen & up | tags: steve pov, steve harrington has a crush on eddie munson, ice skating, fluff, pining, getting together

All his life, Steve has been an athlete. 

Baseball, basketball, swimming; he’d even had a stint playing volleyball and was decent at soccer when he was younger and his mom was still trying to be a Soccer Mom. He’d helped Lucas practice for basketball tryouts, he’d taught Dustin how to throw a football the one time he’d asked at a pool party, and he’d helped Holly learn to ride her bike without training wheels. Nancy had done her damnedest, Mike didn’t have the patience, Karen was a little overwhelming, and Ted was… well, Ted. 

Sports come naturally to Steve, is the point, and perhaps that’s why he’s frustrated enough that he’d about to punch a hole through the carved up ice beneath him when he falls again. 

His poor knees. 

And his poor ego because sure, he’s glad that Eddie took to it shockingly quickly, but Steve would love to join him skating— wobbly, but upright— along the outer boards of the rink. Instead, he just groans and turns around to sit on his ass. Cold and icy, it’s no wonder he’s sore from falling all night. 

“Need a hand?” Eddie skates over, one hand bracing himself on the wall as he makes his way to Steve. 

“I think I need new feet,” Steve sighs, leaning his head back against the boards. “There are fucking five year olds here that are better at this. No offense, but why is this so easy for you?” 

“Wayne lives and breathes hockey. I never got lessons or anything because y’know, poor,” he gestures vaguely to himself, “but he did take me to a few rinks that rented skates for cheap when I was a kid.” 

“You cheater!” Steve looks up at him with no real malice or heat because it’s impossible for Steve to ever actually be angry with him— not when his nose is red and his cheeks are flushed and his hair is frizzing out at all angles. “You said you wanted to learn to skate, but you already know how?”

“Would it help if I hold your hand?” Eddie teases, extending one hand that Steve accepts, allowing himself to be hoisted back up onto his skates. 

He wobbles a bit and catches himself with his hands on Eddie’s shoulders, while Eddie steadies him with both hands on his waist. Steve feels Eddie’s breath against his skin, their noses close enough to touch. Like this, Steve can count every individual eyelash, every imperfection, every hidden fleck of gold in his otherwise dark eyes. Kids race around them, their skates etching nonsensical lines into the smooth surface, but Steve can’t stop staring, can’t move, can barely breathe with Eddie so close. 

“C’mon,” Eddie whispers with a reassuring smile, and Steve feels his words more than he hears them. “I won’t let you fall.” 

Too late, Steve thinks to himself. 

[merry-andrews]

Boxer!Bradley AU;

Bradley fights big matches and wins big prizes. He's one of famous ones. one night at a bar he meets Jake. He's a run-away kid looking for finding a job in this big town and a new start and it's supposed to be a casual one-night stand but morning after when Jake walks around Bradley's small kitchen, wearing Bradley's shirt and sitting on Brad when he's doing his push-ups, Bradley just gets too fond of him that he suggests Jake to stay with him until he finds his own place to live.

he's set for a big match for next couple of months and his competitor is also a good boxer with good reputation too so it's a real challenge if he can beat him. Talking about moneys and bets here which he can make a whole new life someplace else (with Jake💗 Brad's planning on to purpose him) something that he doesn't know, Jake's his competitor's lover.. and all this was a plan from start to get under Bradley's skin to get to convince him losing the match without polluting his own name. So Brad finds out somehow and they break up and while Jake truly has feelings for him, but he doesn't say a word or begs him.. he just leaves..

Brad wins the prize (Jake's heart was beating so fast he was so scared, on the edge of tears whenever Brad got hit. At the end Bradley's locking eyes with Jake while they raise his hand to announce winner) and at that same night Jake comes knocking on a moping Bradley's door, tears in his eyes when Brad pulls him in a kiss, says he's in love with Bradley and he put bets on Bradley instead of his ex-lover💗

[sammakesart]

Solavellan, or the Tale of the Dread Bridegroom

The reason I have always been drawn to the Solas and Lavellan romance in the Dragon Age series (besides having a deep love for villains and dramatic cheekbones) is because it brings to mind my favorite type of fairytale: the animal (or monster) bridegroom. The most famous of these would probably be Beauty and the Beast. However, the Solavellan romance felt more similar to my favorite iteration of this type: East of the Sun and West of the Moon. 

In the tale, a young woman is married to a monster… or so she thinks. He is keeping his true identity a secret from her. He brings her to an enchanted castle, and everything is actually pretty great for a time. Then she grows too curious. She discovers his true identity—he’s an attractive man! And a prince! He is forced to leave her and return to his evil witch-queen stepmother. Our heroine, who has fallen in love with her revealed prince, sets out to find him and save him from his wicked stepmother. She has to make a perilous journey. She faces trials and tribulations. She frees her prince, breaks the curse, and they leave together to live happily ever after.

There is also another tale that has many parallels to the Solavellan romance. The myth of Eros and Psyche, which is the blueprint for the animal bridegroom tales. It follows the same general plot, but I’d like to highlight a few differences. This is a myth about a god falling in love with a mortal, and that mortal becoming a goddess herself in the end after proving herself and winning her god-husband back.

In the myth, Eros is sent by his mother, Aphrodite, to trick Psyche into falling in love with something hideous for a perceived infraction against the goddess. Basically, Psyche had too many admirers who were worshiping her as the second coming of Aphrodite. Eros falls in love with Psyche instead, and spirits her away to a castle. She discovers his true identity. He flees. She faces trials. Etc and so forth. Eros and Psyche are reunited. She is given the drink of immortality, and joins her husband in the realm of the gods as a goddess in her own right so they can be together as equals.

It was the kind of ending I wanted for Solas and Lavellan. A heroine falls in love with a cursed prince and saves him. A mortal falls in love with a god, a doomed by the narrative pairing if there ever was one, but in the end, she triumphs, and she joins him as his equal.

Those are very simplified synopses, but you can see the parallels. Solas, in a reversal of the beast-husband trope, is keeping half of his identity secret from Lavellan, but it’s the beast (the Dread Wolf) side of himself he is keeping a secret. He takes Lavellan to his castle, Skyhold. They begin to fall in love. They kiss in a dream. They kiss on a balcony. They dance at a ball. Very fairy tale romance. They’re happy. Until they’re not.

When our heroine discovers Solas’s true identity, that he is Fen’Harel, the Dread Wolf himself (who does indeed turn into a giant wolf monster as we see in Veilguard), he must leave our heroine, and she cannot join him. What can Lavellan do? Well, swear to save him, of course! And if that is what she chooses, she sets out on her own journey of trials and tribulations to rescue her monstrous prince. But he is not just the prince or the monster, he’s the villain as well. Delicious.

Lavellan is Solas’s heroine, his knight in shining armor. Funnily enough, you can make a joke about “riding in on a shining steed” to Solas during an early conversation with him. She can also flirt with him later during this conversation. What is that flirt option? “You can trust me.” She tells him she will protect him… however she has to. Solas here is the damsel in distress, the prince who needs saving, and she will save her prince from his tower (or his regret prison) however she has to.

What trials does our heroine have to face, you ask? Besides the tracking him down, of course. Well, let’s see. Trials always come in threes.

Three times Lavellan reaches out to him, and asks him to stop. She tells him that whatever he is facing, they can face it together. “Whatever you need, we can find together.��� “Let me help you, Solas.” “I am walking the dinan’shiral with you.” And it’s like he’s under a curse to reject her, but every time he reminds her he loves her, because he wants to be saved. He wants to be with her. “I cannot do that.” He does love her. “I wish it could, vhenan.” He wants their love to triumph. “Ir abelas, vhenan. I cannot.” One more time, my heart. Ask me one more time. He is under a geas, but screaming as loud as it will let him: Save me! I love you!

(I do not think he is under a literal geas in the story. It is more of a psychological one, one he has put himself under to justify his wrongdoings to himself.)

It also is very fitting that the rule of three is what it takes to stop him: Mythal, Rook, and Lavellan. Past, present, and future. Though it was Lavellan who found the first statue which kicked off the quest, the spark of hope that he could be saved still.

It also appears that Solas reaches out to Lavellan three times on his own. He orchestrates a meeting in Crossroads to explain. He visits her in dreams, though from an endless distance. He sends her a letter, reaffirming his love for her and telling her he wanted to be with her, and that his feelings will never change.

So the fourth time she reaches out, after the (metaphorical) curse has been lifted, there is no rejection. She’s won. He only offers a warning. She must choose him freely and with full knowledge of what is to come. She does. They perform a wedding ceremony of their own making and share a bloody kiss. Peak cinema.

It’s a darker fairytale, where the heroine falls for the prince, the monster, and the evil sorcerer all in one. And she wins. She gets everything she wants.

I’m just very passionate about fairytales. I wrote many a paper on them in college. Nothing pleases me more than a good retelling that captures the essence of what fairytales are truly about.

I think too many critics are trying to view Solas and Lavellan’s romance through the lens of a real life, modern day relationship. But fairytales are the realm of allegory, not reality.

We are in the realm of the mythic. Here be gods and monsters, princes and evil sorcerers. And Solas is all of those things. Lavellan is the heroine of all time who ends the story having saved the world (again), and is now ascending to godhood (there is an Andraste and the Maker parallel here, I swear), and she’s rescued her true love to top it all off.

I see a modern trend of no longer giving heroines love stories, and I dislike it. Because love stories in fiction are rarely ever about just finding a man. It’s about accepting the whole of yourself. I think of the heroine’s journey. The reconciliation with the masculine and the darker aspects of yourself. Women are told they must always be good. Make the right choices. Nah, let her fall in love with the villain and be selfish. Let her make out with her monster covered in blood as a treat.

I think monster romance has become so popular lately because, subconsciously, women feel like there is a monster inside of themselves that they have to hide from the world, lest you be judged for being imperfect, ugly, monstrous. Monster, and by extension villain, romance lets you fall in love with the dark other as the ultimate form of self-acceptance. (This is not an experience exclusive to women by any means, but I can only speak to my personal experience as one.)

Our heroine didn’t make the polite, respectable choice. She fell for the monster, the villain, and chose herself in the end. She didn’t choose a man. She wasn’t chasing after him, begging him to love her, in the hope of getting him back. She was pursuing him in her quest to stop him in order to save the world. She was just also in love with him and hoped he could be saved. Hope is a powerful thing, but this age has made people cynical. Let her have a little hope. Sometimes it’s all we have.

I do believe she would have killed him if she had to. And he would have killed her if given absolutely no other choice, or perhaps let her kill him for an extra layer of angst. Interestingly, I think Lavellan would have been able to live with that choice, but I don’t think Solas would have been able to. It would have destroyed him, fully twisted him into Pride, and he would have lost any hope of being able to “come back.”

I am fascinated by the fact that Lavellan and Solas are quintessential hero archetypes. The type that will not sacrifice the fate of world for their love, but will sacrifice their love for the world and for the “greater good”—as they see it. Only Solas has twisted himself into the villain. He’s a dark mirror of the hero. He is the hero, reversed. Thus, he dooms the world in attempting to save it. Repeatedly. (“He’s a tragic deuteragonist!” I scream, as they drag me away.)

Lavellan is the upright hero. She will save the day, or die trying. She will sacrifice her love, which is why I think it’s incorrect to say she gave everything up for him. She says in her second conversation with Rook that she would not join him in his Fade Prison. “To give up the world for him? No. We’ve got to save it first.” She will not give up everything for him. She will not doom the world to be with him. But after the world is saved… well, then. That’s a different story. She wants to be with him. And together, they can find balance.

They were both made and shaped into figureheads. Weapons. Legends. A hero and a villain. They’ve had the fate of the world on their shoulders multiple times over. There *is* no place for them in this world. But in another world... they can find their true selves away from well-meant misunderstanding and mindless worship. 

This is an apotheosis of Lavellan’s own choosing. I will not be your Herald. I will be a god on my own terms.

Solas never saw Lavellan as anyone other than who she is. He knew she was not the Herald, and he never treated her as such. He was uniquely able to understand her plight. He too had been given a title once and was later consumed by it. Dread Wolf.

Where else can two people like them go? Especially where they can be together in peace?

However, I don’t see this as the end for them. They are just onto the next adventure, this time together. And they’ll be unstoppable. The narrative had to make them exit stage left. No enemy could possibly win against them. They are too powerful. Lavellan is stronger than the narrative itself. The narrative had doomed her love, and she went: “No, I don’t accept that. I will save the world, win my prince/monster/villain, and now we’re leaving. Thanks!”

And Solas? We saw how devoted he was to Mythal. But Mythal never chose him. She twisted him into Pride. Used him as a weapon… and he destroyed the world for her. Twice. And was trying for a third. Just imagine what he could accomplish now with Lavellan, who chose him. Who encouraged him to be Wisdom. Who does not stand above him, as his goddess—but beside him, as his wife. Yeah, the writers had to put them in the Fade Prison. Their combined power was just too strong.

And I don’t believe for a minute they’ll be trapped in that regret prison forever. Solas tells us how to escape, and now he is in the right state of mind to accomplish it. Solas will do his court-ordered therapy. Lavellan will get a much needed vacation in dream land… then they’re going to heal the blight with the power of love. Or something. They just needed to be nerfed long enough for BioWare to squeeze a few more games out of the franchise. Then Solas and Lavellan will be set free to find a secret third option for the Veil, remove it safely, and Sandal’s prophecy will finally come true: “One day the magic will come back. All of it. Everyone will be just like they were. The shadows will part, the skies will open wide. When he rises, everyone will see.”

This is not to say I don’t have plenty of critiques for how Solas and Lavellan’s romance was written and concluded in Veilguard. But I think it was always going to be disappointing in some regards because it’s very difficult to conclude your heroine’s story from a new hero’s point of view in a new hero’s story. She will lack the agency she needs in this kind of tale because she has been relegated to a minor NPC, and she (and we) can hardly get a peak into Solas’s state of mind. How I wish we could have asked him endless insightful questions, instead of just pointing fingers. How I wish while Rook was in the prison, we could have controlled our Inquisitor for a quest or two and had a private conversation with Solas. The writing overall was a huge letdown for me. But I still love my once doomed couple, now together forever. I always will. 

[reignpage]

Piercer!Geto

Yamaha XT500: slowing down

Contents: bts of Yamaha XT500, providing context of their conversation, slight sexual language, angsty, inappropriate workplace behaviour?

You’re nervous. 

The past week has been uncomfortable and awkward. Your boss was preoccupied with another girl, and you know you shouldn’t be jealous; she’s a client. But to watch him be so attentive, so patient, and so accommodating of another girl, it made your chest hurt. 

There you were, sitting behind your desk with a smile, waiting to greet your boss but he’d barely glance at you, gliding past to his office without even a word. When you’d bring him coffee, he wouldn’t even look up, he’d just continue scribbling or typing on his computer. 

Sure, he was busy. 

Everyone was. 

But it wasn’t right for him to give you so much attention the first couple months and then take it all away like it meant nothing. Like you meant nothing. Your sister said it hurts a lot for you because it’s your first love, and whilst you’re not sure that what you’re feeling for Suguru is love indeed, you still appreciate that you’re new to this whole thing. 

Why are men such mysteries?

How ever did Helen of Troy, or rather of Sparta, circumvent this maze?

The romance books you’ve read couldn’t give any insight. They all somehow follow the same pattern of ‘boy meets girl, they like each other, boy hurts girl, boy kisses girl, and girl forgives boy, and they live happily ever after’.

And pardon your French, but that just seems like utter lunacy!

Technically, Suguru hasn’t done anything wrong, he’s just doing his job. But he still hurt you and you can’t give in to his sweet words and pet names, no matter how they make you blush and press your thighs together.

So, after his messages insisting you have lunch together, you wait out at the front of the studio. It’s getting colder and you wish you had brought a thicker jacket, but you only have your sister’s hoodie. You hope she isn’t walking around town today otherwise she’ll rip it right off you. 

It’s only fair you take her jacket when she took your heels to go to a party, sneaking past your room like the little devil that she is. 

“Ready to go, pretty?”

There it is again. 

That smooth tone and heart-fluttering pet name. You’re blushing again when you turn to meet his eyes. He’s so tall, kind eyes smiling at you as he closes the door. He takes a quick sweep of your figure before he sighs and drapes a scarf over your shoulders, tying a knot so that your neck is all warm and cozy. 

Don’t fall for it!

You thank him and then step aside so he can lead the way. Both of you stroll through the neighbourhood, smiling at passersby and weaving around tourists who take up the entire pavement. Having watched a bunch of romance shows too, you’re painfully aware of the fact that he’s following the sidewalk rule, standing as a barrier between you and the road. 

It was a seamless move, done as if on autopilot, as if he’s simply the type to sacrifice himself. He’s a really good boss. Always choosing to stay overtime to finish up on paperwork instead of letting another member of staff handle it, taking the brunt of complaints and nasty customers, and his officer door’s always open for his employees. 

Except, of course, that one time when you had shut it so you could have a little…well, you don’t know what to call it. But whatever it was, it’s been stuck in your mind since then. And you can’t even count the number of times you’ve cum to the thought of it, to the feel of his hands on you. 

Thank goodness your sister’s out so often.

“The weather’s taking a turn for the worse, you should start wearing thicker clothes,” he advises. 

You tuck your chin into his scarf, smelling that familiar scent of musk and late nights, and the faintest hint of gasoline. When he glances down at you, you nod.

“Yeah, I will.”

Earlier in the week you had ran into your friend. She was frazzled over the lawsuit against the university and the ugly professor, hands frantically typing away and hair tied up haphazardly in her unofficial spot in the corner of the library, facing the south windows. 

You hesitated to talk to her in case she was really busy and would feel burned by a conversation, but when she saw you, she let out a genuine, but strained smile. The case had been taking a lot from her. You admire her so much. Always so hardworking, so easy to approach, and so eager to help, no matter what she’s going through. 

She pushed her laptop to the side and gestured for you to sit. And for half an hour straight, you complained about your problems with your boss. Looking back now, you can only cringe at the memory. How thoughtless of you. It’d be wise to avoid any pool of water, lest you fall into your own reflection. 

But she still took the time to hear you out and give advice.

“I don’t really know this Suguru person, but it does sound like he was genuinely busy. I think it’d be good to hear what he has to say and go from there.”

And of course that makes sense. It’s rational, logical, the kind of thinking a law student would have. Perhaps you should have gone to a drama student who would have told you to faint in front of him and pull at his heartstrings. 

Before you know it, you reach a cafe. 

Suguru lets you in first, placing a hand at your back to direct you to a table by the window. It’s a seat with a great view of a park, the leaves have turned various shades of orange and red, drifting downwards in spirals, descending with grace. 

You sit in front of him, unravelling the scarf and placing it on your lap. Oddly enough, as you both look over the menu, it doesn’t feel awkward like you had been expecting. 

It feels normal. 

Like you’ve done this a million times before. 

And it’s only once the server takes your orders, that you both look at each other. He’s still smiling both with his lips and his eyes, and it’s the kindest, most reassuring smile you’ve ever seen. The kind of smile you find yourself searching for in every stranger, only to come up empty-handed. 

But there’s something else there, resting on his features. The crinkles by his eyes are ever so slightly more visible, and the circles under them are just tiniest shade darker. Suguru’s really been worked to the bone recently. 

“Is the campus more chaotic than usual? With the protests and all.”

You shrug. “A little. People are really upset with Eden’s decision to only suspend Professor Mahito despite the mounting evidence against him.”

Suguru nods thoughtfully, accepting the drinks that the server brings over. You’ve opted for a hot chocolate and he’s drinking coffee. He doesn’t tease you over your order of extra whipped cream like your sister does.

“And you believe the accusations?”

“Of course!” You say that with a little more passion than intended, likely feeling offended he even needed to ask. You’re embarrassed but he doesn’t laugh at you, only lifts his cup to hide his amused smile.

He’s always smiling. 

But most times it never feels genuine. 

After a sip of his coffee, he adds, “I believe them too. Much of the pro-Mahito rhetoric centres around his work as a professor, but not much about his character. And if I may, my run-ins with him during my time were never particularly pleasant.”

You nod. “I just hope it all gets settled on. Everyone deserves peace.”

Something about what you said pleased him because then his smile is widening and he places his cup down and leans back in his chair. You know what this means; he’s going to get serious. 

The talk is going to happen now. 

“About my client,” you suck in a breath, “you think she was something more?”

Biting your lip, you consider your words very carefully. “I think you gave her special attention. One that you don’t give to any other client, not even celebrities.”

The food arrives and you glance up at him before taking a bite, wondering why he isn’t answering immediately. Is he considering his words carefully too? If he is, what does that mean for you? Is he doing it because he doesn’t want to hurt you or because he doesn’t want to let you in any more than he must to keep the peace?

Your mind is racing, and you chew without even really tasting your food. 

His finger taps against his fork, and then he drops his smile and sits up straight. 

“You’re right. She wasn’t just another client. She was special.”

A chill pierces your chest. It stuns you, rendering you frozen, forced to bathe in the words like a cold plunge. You want to throw up and run. But you’re pinned to your seat with his steely gaze. It’s insistence, urging you to listen. You can’t look away. Not when, even at the worst moment of the time you’ve had with him, he still looks so mesmerising, a marble statue carved only with the most ardour and the brightest hope for mankind. 

Suguru lets out a breath, perhaps relieved you haven’t left. At least he understands why you would. He owed you that much at least. 

“There are clients,” he begins with an authoritative tone as if his words are factual and you’re captivated by the musical cadence of his warmth, like he’s telling you a bedtime story, “who come, not with money but, with stories.”

You don’t really know where he’s going but you place your cutlery down and reach for your mug of hot chocolate like its searing heat could keep you grounded, keeps you tethered to the ground and protected from his lulling voice, a pied-piper amongst normal men. 

“They’ve been seen the darkness the world has to offer, ventured into places we can’t even fathom. And certainly, places I would never wish for you to have been.”

Something about his cautioning words compel you to nod.

When his fingertip touches yours and sends a tingle through your hand, following the veins, you realise he’s inched his hand closer, to feel yours, even just to feel the atoms breathe near other seems to calm him. Perhaps he needs tethering too.

“Riko was special -is- special. She’s a girl who’s been through a lot.”

You’re breathless, dazed from the feel of his skin. You want to pull away so you can have clarity of mind, but you can’t. “She’s been to those places?”

Suguru nods, a bitter flash crossing his features. 

“She was running from people who wanted to take from her. Who only ever saw her as a vessel and not as a person. And she’s come very far on her own. She wanted something to remind her of who she is. Not a little girl, not a vessel or a mere victim, but a survivor.”

Your lip trembles. 

The girl you had seen was so bright, she grinned with mischief and spoke with so much energy you felt invigorated just by listening, even when you didn’t want to. The extent of what she’s faced is something your mind just cannot venture to. And you’re wracked with guilt, it gnaws at your heart, squeezing in punishment. 

You might throw up for a whole different reason. 

This entire time you had been cursing her out in your head, feeling jealous of all the attention she was getting, but it never even occurred to you that she might have needed the attention, needed to feel normal and cared for, in the way you do. 

You lick your lips, tasting the sweetness of the chocolate there and force your features to lighten. “I understand. Thank you for sharing that with me.”

Suguru doesn’t look convinced, and he opens his mouth to carry on but you only press your finger to his like one would boop a baby on the nose. It’s what your father does to you and your sister when you argue, an effective way of disorienting you enough to shut you up. 

It’s the first time you’ve ever done it but it works wonders because your boss only tilts his head and watches your hand do it again. His expression lightens too. 

There’s a renewed atmosphere to the table, like a veil had been lifted; you hadn’t realised just how heavy it all was until you’re grinning and spooning more food into your mouth. 

“She’s okay now, though?”

And when Suguru nods, you’re pleased with the answer. Truly.

Wherever Riko is, whatever she’s doing, you hope she’s safe. And above all, happy. And if she must return to Uzumaki for solace, for protection, for friendship, you swear there and then, you’d welcome her with open arms. 

“Did you hear about Gojo’s fiancee?” 

Suguru laughs, images of his best friend’s faces flashing in his eyes. “Have I ever? Satoru hasn’t stopped complaining. He spams me day in and day out, sends a bunch of voicemails to both my personal and work phones, and when I wouldn’t answer, he’s been showing up at work.”

You’re giggling. “I know! Nowadays he just walks in and groans at me that you’ve abandoned in his ‘time of need’, whatever that means.”

There’s a softness in his tone, even as he makes fun of his friend, and you feel its embrace when he admits, “Satoru’s always been very dramatic, but he’ll be fine.”

“My sister says his fiancee’s like the complete opposite of him, appearance-wise. Something about being goth?”

“I’ve met her,” he smirks when you gasp. “Don’t look so surprised. You forget I was once a student at Eden. She and I were classmates. And she’s going to him a run for his money.”

The conversation continues with laughter, a feather-like lightness carrying you both along. For two hours, even well after both of your plates are empty, you chat. You update him on what you’ve been up to for the past week, rambling about the most mundane things like they were a crisis and he nods along, never once interrupting, as if content to sit there for however long and listen. 

And when you walk back to the studio, there isn’t a moment of silence. Not even when both of you have stopped talking. 

This is perhaps the only time since you began working at Uzumaki that you’ve spoken, not as boss and employee, and not even as two people with an inexplicable tension of the sexual kind. But rather as friends. 

It felt good. 

To know where you stand with someone. 

Sitting back down behind your desk and watching Suguru flash you another smile before he retreats into his office, you reach a conclusion. 

Friendship is good for you and him. 

You need it before anything else. 

And those are the terms he’ll have to agree with.

[espinosaurusrexex]

Colin has a wet dream about you

a/n: I love Polin, but I am also obsessed with the Bridgerton men and you gotta let a girl dream... or rather her fictional crush 😏

word count: ~600

warnings: smut (wet dream - not super graphic), pining, Colin missing you :(

･ﾟ✫* 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ｡✭･ﾟ

“Oh,” you gasp, “Colin!”

The white duvet crumbles beneath your writhing body, every curve and divot of your skin brands itself into Colin’s mind like a well rehearsed poem, or the tune of a song that just cannot seem to leave his head. 

“I love you,” he whispers your name into your neck, the sweat coating his brow as if he were sparing with his brothers. Though he is doing quite the opposite indeed. 

His hips push forward in gentle passion as he falls deeper in the all-encompassing pleasure that is covering his every being in warmth and shivers. 

“I love you,” Colin promises once more, his lips grazing upon every surface of you he can reach until your hand tangles in his hair, holding him in place just as your mouth touches his.

“Say it back, my love.” Another thrust ruts through the both of you, and your damp breath travels past his face. “I am entirely yours.”

“I- ah! Colin, oh my-“ He is fighting the urge to roll you on top of him, to see your breasts bounce with every thrust, to weigh them in his hands and feel how perfect they are… especially when he runs his fingers over the pebbled flesh which makes your sounds pique. No, he needs his body pressed against yours, needs every inch of him to touch you in fear of it all being his wicked imagination. There is no risking your fading away. 

“I beg you, love.” He is close to losing his mind if you don’t answer him soon, the urge of your confession growing greater than his need for release. But his body won’t stop moving. You are drawing him in deeper and deeper until your other hand scratches down his back. 

You are a moaning mess beneath him, and he wouldn’t have it any other way… well, except for the fact that you have yet to pronounce your undying love for him so that you can both live happily ever after together. 

Though, for some reason, that sentence never comes. Instead, the knot in his belly grows tighter and tighter until his eyes are skewed shut. One more thrust and he will tumble over into the warm and floaty feeling only you have ever brought him. 

“Colin, look at me.” You stroke over his hair and stare at him adoringly. He can feel it now, the words on the tip of your tongue as you kiss him once more, and the warm tightness spreading throughout him when you finally say them. 

“I love-“

A loud crash sounds from outside his room and Colin shoots up in his bed. 

It takes him a second to come to again. The room he is in is sparely lit through the heavy dark blue curtains drawn before his windows. 

He is hot, and bothered, he notices after dragging his hand across his dampened face, staring down at the prominent evidence in his lap. But the worst part of it all is… that he is alone. 

“Are you alright?!” 

“I am fine, Mr. Bridgerton! Please excuse the disturbance!”

“Do not worry!”

Colin falls back into his pillow with a heavy sigh and closes his eyes once more. The memory of your silhouette still lingers in his mind. The way the Greek coastal winds blew on your dress, your hair, making him fall in love with the slight dishevel, he would always connect to you. 

There is nothing he misses more from his travels than your presence. And he mourns every day he has to spend without you now. 

With a heavy heart, and a silent tear springing from them, he presses his face into the silk sheets, wishing, hoping, praying, to see you once more. 

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[hellfire--cult]

Roe's Valentine's special - Steddie x Fem!Reader

wc: 9.5k

+18, explicit, threesome, p in v no protection, p in a, smut, angst, insinuation of suicide (not reader nor eddie or steve), mention of eating disorder (not specified nor described), cheating (to reader), revenge... a lot of revenge, slightly supernatural.

plot: The past month had been hell for you, and you couldn't swallow how unfair it was that the people that fucked you over lived happily without a worry in the world. But on every valentine's day, there are certain cupids that will help you mend your heart through revenge... and you caught the attention of two of them.

a/n: let's pretend it's still valentine's day, although this is not exactly fluffy, lmao.

If you liked it, reblog, please. Doesn't hurt you to press the green button.

CHAIN REACTION

So let’s recount what happened in the last month.

Your boyfriend cheated on you with his supposed best friend and lied to you even about him being heterosexual when you first met him, so finding him and Chase while going at it like rabbits in the bed you shared for the past two years was not the best sight to ever dig into your skull.

You had to move out, return to your mother’s house reluctantly, and get bombarded with questions about why such a thing happened because if anyone in the relationship would have cheated, she always thought it would be you.

So you moved back out again into an affordable two-room apartment. It wasn’t big, it wasn’t fancy, but it was a roof until you and your now ex-boyfriend figured out how to split up your stuff, but you knew his now lawyer boyfriend would do anything to keep the house to themselves.

And then at work, the position you’ve been working so hard for, learning, studying, and staying extra hours even, was taken by Lydia because she sucked the boss’ dick. She was one of the worst administrators there, so it was obvious how she got that new salary and office.

Worst of all, today was Valentine’s Day… and you were alone. All alone.

“WHY DID THIS HAPPEN TO ME!? WHY CAN THEY BE HAPPY AFTER EVERYTHING!?” You were kicking the pillow of a couch that had fallen off, and you weren’t caring if your neighbors would hear you, or were getting pissed for your rage fit. They might be even afraid right now, not daring to come up to say anything.

You needed to let the anger out. You couldn’t hold it back anymore. It seemed as if life said ‘Let’s fuck this person’s life today.’. They literally went and pointed at you. It seemed like a fucking joke, the kind that leaves a sour taste in your mouth and almost makes you want to puke. 

Your eyes were burning with incoming tears from your anger, sadness, and disappointment, just everything at once. Why did all of this happen to you? What kind of game are the gods playing against you right now? 

Your heart was broken into pieces. Small, fragile, and enough to blow them away with one breath.

“I WANT THEM TO FUCKING SUFFER!” You yelled finally, breathing heavily as your head leaned back so you could stare at the ceiling and close your eyes. You don’t mean it, it was just a spur-of-the-moment scream… was it?

You sighed as you kept your head towards the ceiling. You can fix it. All of it. You will strive for another position, and leave the team management you’re under. You will focus on spending more time with friends. With Robin, Argyle, Nancy… And your mom is not fixable, but you can keep avoiding her just like you are now. 

Everything can be fixed. It can, right? It absolutely can, yes, of course.

Except for the situation you encountered when you lowered your head to see two figures sitting on your couch. Two men. Two gorgeous men. One with long hair, curly, dark, tattooed arms with rather weird symbolisms, and the other had sun-kissed skin, brown and gorgeous hair with some faint highlights, and then you could see all the freckles adorning his skin and face.

These were indeed gorgeous men… now what the–

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” You jumped out of your skin almost, and you immediately rushed to the kitchen which was two steps away, and grabbed your biggest knife, probably dull, but it was still pointy. You turned to point it at them only to see them gone as if you’ve never had two men sitting on your couch seconds ago. You were confused, putting the knife back down on the counter.

Were you hallucinating? Was the can of soup you had earlier expired and you didn’t realize it? Maybe it had fungus? Mushrooms? Or were you so desperate for a good dick that you imagined two men sitting on your couch? You shook your head at your silliness, a small giggle escaping your lips while taking a hand up to wipe a tear away from the past outburst, only for one finger to graze your cheek, making your breath stop completely and for your body to freeze.

“Now now, no more crying.” 

Your head turned only to clash onto hazel eyes, beautiful and silky brown hair, a freckle or two on the side of his cheek... And he was in your fucking house–

“SHIT!” You tried to move around him to grab your knife again, only for your waist to be grabbed and pulled flush against another body, your side, and your shoulder hitting someone’s hips and chest. 

“That is no way to treat your guests.” You gasped as you turned your head to now see the man with long dark hair, curls falling down his shoulders, and deep brown eyes. You were panicking, your phone was on the couch, and you left it so far away! You need to yell, you need to call for help!

“HEL–” A ringed hand flew to your mouth, silencing you from your screams for help. The other man with hazel eyes sighed, shaking his head as you thrashed around in the other man’s grip, obviously too strong for you because he wasn’t moving a single inch.

“I told you, we should have knocked on her door.” You let out a noise of confusion, a ‘What?’ mumbled in the back of the hand that was holding you silent. You heard a chuckle from the man next to you, making you even more confused than before.

“What was the fun in that? I love it when they think we are murderers or burglars.” What the actual fuck? If they weren’t that– Wait, how can you trust them with that? What if they are lying about it in order for you to stay calm?

“For fuck sake Eddie, let her go so we can explain to her what are we doing here.” You nodded desperately at that but the man, whom you thought was the kindest, only pointed a finger at you with a glare. “Yell, and we tape that mouth of yours shut until we finish explaining. Got it?”

You were shaking at this point in fear, tears filling your eyes as you felt helpless, and the man holding you noticed your distress, a soft voice coming from him unlike the teasing one from before.

“We are not here to hurt you, Sweets… We are here to help you, you just have to listen to us for a bit, okay?” The man called Eddie spoke to you, and you were afraid of screaming and for them to do something worse to you, so you nodded in the affirmation that you were going to keep quiet. 

Eddie looked at the other man and nodded as he slowly took the hand away from your mouth, letting you take a gasp of breath as he pulled himself away from you, letting you go completely from his grasp. 

You had to choose. Listen to them and pretend this is fucking normal just so you won’t get killed, or, run for it. Before you could even think, the more tanned man snapped a finger on your face and–

You were sitting on your couch. What? You were in the kitchen– You pointed at it with wide eyes, then back at the couch, and back at the kitchen, and then you pointed at the two men that were standing in front of you. 

“W–What was that? I was standing in the kitchen, and now I’m on my couch… But I was standing in my kitchen–”

“Yeah, it’s freaky the first time, I know… Trust us that we don’t want to cause any harm… not to you at least.” The man you don’t know the name of spoke, making you stare at them only to then look down at the floor. 

“I’m dreaming, aren’t I? This is not real, there’s no way I just teleported from the kitchen to the couch, that is humanly impossible–”

“Good thing we are not human.” And that made you snap your eyes open like plates, looking at Eddie. Not… Human? The other man elbowed his friend in the gut, making you look at him.

“I’m Steve, this is Eddie. We’re Revenge Cupids.” 

You stared at them, just blinking, not a single thought in your head. They are what? Cupids? Revenge cupids? That didn’t make any sense, nothing of this was making any sense in any laws of the universe.

“Yeah okay, I am definitely on drugs or asleep.” At your words, a shadow cast above you only to bend down towards your eye level, making you freeze at the stern look on his face. Eddie’s eyes were glowing in a very unusual color. It was some sort of white, or grey.

“Say we are not real one more time, and we will show you just how real we can be. Okay Baby?”

And that threat felt real. Too real, and now you realize these two men are not human, these two men possess some kind of powers, and these two men call themselves Revenge Cupids, which made absolutely no sense.

“I– Okay– Um… Wh-Why are you here?” Your voice was shaky because these were still strangers in your home, and how can you be calm in a situation like this? Eddie sighed and got up, your eyes following him as he stood next to Steve, who proceeded to speak.

“We heard your plea.” He said in a calm tone and you tilted your head in confusion. Your plea? What plea? 

“I’m sorry?” At your question, now Eddie was the one that talked, surprising you when he called out your name without you introducing yourself.

“You said ‘I want them to suffer.’” 

Your eyes widened at that and your brain rewinded a bit to a few minutes ago. You did say that, yes, you didn’t mean it. You definitely didn’t… right? But what does that mean? Why would that make them appear?

“I– I did say that… but, I don’t understand what it has to do with you both?” This is out of a really bad Hallmark movie because two unknown men are in your living room, and they’re very real and appeared out of thin air.

“Okay, let us explain sweetheart, alright? First off, this is real, what’s happening here, it’s happening. So stop doubting.” Eddie said with a harsh tone knowing that you were still wondering if you were high, and his voice made you straighten up and stare at the two men a little more centered. Steve took a deep breath and started to explain.

“On Valentine’s Day, you have your normal cupids, helping you get the person you seek, all that stuff and happy shit, yada yada. We–” Steve pointed in between Eddie and himself. “We are the complete opposite.”

“Huh? Does that mean… you break hearts?” You asked in a confused tone and Eddie was pleased to know you were cooperating now.

“Yes and no. We are here to mend your heart… through revenge that might break the hearts of the people who wronged you.”

And that… That actually caught your attention. Mend your heart while getting… revenge?

“Wait, what kind of revenge?” You asked, now intrigued and Steve smiled at you, now knowing you were a little interested in it.

“Most people prefer small little acts of revenge. Lots of people pleasers if you ask me, but you can even say no to this and we’ll just erase your memory and we were never here sweetheart.” And you were thinking about it. You are angry, yes, but how angry were you? How unfair did life treat you for this to happen? “There’s no catch? Like… you just help me with these acts and then you’re gone?” You asked and they simply shrugged and nodded at you, Eddie chuckling afterwards.

“Of course, you won’t remember us.” You gave him a little nod in approval and then you squinted your eyes at them.

“Are all revenge cupids in pairs?” You asked out of curiosity, catching the men’s attention, looking at eachother. Eddie shrugged at Steve because you were going to forget it all once they were done, so no harm in telling you anything, right? Steve turned to you and pointed at Eddie.

“I was his revenge cupid… and well… Let’s say–”

“I caught his attention so badly because of my revenge that he was smitten instantly. Weren’t you?” Eddie said with a cheeky smile on his face while Steve rolled his eyes before continuing to talk to you.

“So I hired him as my second hand.” And you were completely stunned. They have feelings so it seems, they’re not just entities, and from what you are listening, they were human once, or at least Eddie was.

“So you two are dating.” You managed to say with a smirk on your face and Steve’s face turned a little pink while Eddie snorted before talking back again.

“We prefer the word… Partners.”

You weighed your options. You could deny this help and keep going just like you were doing minutes ago, or… you can have your revenge on these people that wronged you completely… But would that make you happy? Would that cause some kind of relief in you?

But why the fuck are these people happy when they left you alone and miserable?

So you asked yourself again: Would that give you any sense of relief?

Fuck yes, it would.

“I’m in.” 

The next day you woke up, wondering if everything from the night before was even real at all, but when you saw the two men appear out of nowhere in the early morning already walking around the living room while looking at your furniture with intrigue, you knew you didn’t dream it at all.

So you cooked for them, and they seemed surprised at the gesture since they didn’t have hunger at all, but they still took what you made for them from your hands. It was simple waffles with syrup and some berries. You sat down on the table eating your own plate as you tried to gather your thoughts.

The two men are still here, and you had agreed that they could do acts of revenge for your heart to feel relief once again. To rejoice. And now they were sitting in front of you, already finished their plates long ago. 

“Whatcha thinking Princess?” Eddie asked as he leaned over the table with his elbows on the wood. You looked up to clash onto his brown ones and you licked your lips as you sat straighter on your chair. 

“Well… let’s say I want to take revenge on my mother. What would you do?” Eddie shrugged at that as he went deep into thought about it. Steve was thinking too, looking at the ceiling as if it were going to give him an answer. Then Eddie spoke again.

“Well, once someone told us to make the house of their parents infested with hornets.” And that was a good one…

“Another one asked us for their favorite furniture to burn accidentally thanks to the fireplace.” Steve said afterward and Eddie nodded as if remembering that, a small chuckle escaping his lips. 

They were good… but not enough. They weren’t even directed to the person who caused the actual pain, it was directed to all the material stuff. 

“I developed an eating disorder thanks to this woman. This woman considered me a slut and whore ever since she found out I lost my virginity to my neighbor. This woman that treated me poorly in front of everyone we ever met…” Your words were filled with venom, heart stinging as the two men realized that the broken heart was not recent.

It has been broken for a long while now.

“Then, what do you have in mind?” Eddie asked, curiosity at the tip of his tongue as he saw Steve slowly smirk from his peripheral vision. He knew his partner was intrigued and actually amused at the anger in your voice.

You thought for a while, but you knew what could break your mother. What could break her completely, heart, body, and soul, not caring for the repercussions that could bring because she never cared for yours. A mother who doesn’t care for her child, why would the child respect her? Why would the child care for their mother?

“My mother lives off fillers and surgeries so she could still look young despite the age she has. A cougar that fucks guys her age or younger because it makes her feel… with youth she no longer possesses.” 

“I like where this is going, honey.” Steve spoke as he looked at you with fierce eyes and Eddie was biting his lip at the anticipation of your plan. You looked up from your plate and both men went wide-eyed as they looked at the intensity of your glare.

Full of rage.

“I want everything that she ever did to her face and body to fall apart. I want her to finally look her age, but with the clear evidence that she never took care of her skin. Someone that didn’t use sunscreen at all in her entire life.”

And Eddie’s smile turned into a wicked grin, almost like a Cheshire cat. 

He raised his hand and snapped his fingers, and Steve chuckled wholeheartedly, evilly as he closed his eyes. You were looking at both of them as your heart thumped wildly in your chest, filled with anticipation but no guilt. There was no guilt at all. She never had it with you, so it’s fair you reciprocate the same feelings.

“Oh, she looks hideous honey.” Steve talked, looking back down towards you, snapping his fingers and you saw your phone lit up as it sat on the table. You frowned as you reached for it, unlocking it, and… your eyes widened as you saw your mother screaming at the mirror. The sight of an old woman who lost her youth, no way of faking it anymore. 

She was touching her face, trying to lift it as the skin fell and fell, not staying up at all. The creases all over her face, the facial marks on her forehead, and the corners of her mouth. The sun stains all over her face and neck, and finally… she finally feels what you felt all those years you lived with her. She can finally have a taste of her own medicine. 

And you decided right then that this was going to be the last time you saw your mother, and you didn’t care anymore what could happen afterwards to her, locking the phone and putting it down on the table again. 

Eddie and Steve looked at one another and when they looked at you, their eyes widened, almost in shock as they saw you smiling while taking bites of your waffles, doing a little dance on your chair in victory. You were the first one they ever encountered to not show a single sign of guilt.

And Eddie couldn’t help but bite the side of his bottom lip as he stared at you. And Steve didn’t miss the way his partner was glancing at you, but he couldn’t blame Eddie.

Not when he was looking at you in the same way.

The three of you were walking towards your office building, looking up at the tall structure as you prepared your next target, or well, targets. You still had to think of what to do to them, but some ideas had come up in your mind. 

You had one man on each side of you, both waiting for your response. They had kept an eye on you the past few days, just in case you felt guilt of some sort for what you’ve done to your mother. You even rejoiced when she called you to ask for some money so she could get surgery and your response was:

‘No surgery can help you.’

And that was the same response she gave you when you thought you needed a nose job thanks to her degrading comments. She laughed at you whenever you tried to apply makeup or fix your hair and with the years you understood that she was jealous of your youth. Of your skin.

“How did you become Revenge Cupids?” You asked them as your ideas kept swirling in your mind but they were used to your curiosity by now. They were curious about you too, and for the past few days, they have also asked you about your life, and how you got your heart broken in such a way.

“Well…” Steve began as he looked at you, “You make a bond with another revenge cupid.” You frowned at that, turning your head to look at him.

“A bond?” Eddie nodded and wrapped around your shoulders, sending shivers down your whole body, which you tried shaking away.

“When humans commit revenge, they might impress the cupids themselves. I surprised Steve with mine, and it helped that he was interested in me.” Eddie wiggled his eyebrows at Steve and the brown-haired man only smacked the top of Eddie’s head. “Shit baby, there was no need–”

“And what did both of you do that… caught another cupid’s attention?” You asked this time and the two men looked at eachother for a second, before looking back at you. Steve took a deep breath in and was about to begin talking when your eyes spotted a security camera on the front doors of your building, an idea coming to you.

“Oh… Stevie, I think she thought of something good…” Eddie said with a grin and Steve smiled as he raised his hand, ready to snap his fingers.

“Take me to the CCTV room.” And with those words, you closed your eyes, a snap of fingers happening, and when you opened your eyelids again, you were in front of a massive computer, many monitors around showing all of the security cameras in the company. You turned your head to the side to see the guard sleeping, an eyebrow raised as Eddie chuckled.

“We put him to sleep, he won’t wake up, so you don’t have to whisper Sweets.” You smiled at that, surprising Eddie as well as Steve.

“Thank you… Okay… I need to find that day, the day before the promotion was announced…” And you leaned forward to start looking, only for Eddie to snap his fingers and the video popped up immediately. 

A wicked smile spread on your lips as you saw your boss, who is married with two kids, fucking Lydia without any shame, railing her on his desk. Her moans were all over the speakers, making Steve clear his throat for a second, and then his eyes widened when he heard what you were looking for.

‘You want that promotion, right sweetheart? Fuck yeah, I’m gonna give it to you, oh you are so fucking good–’

“Bingo~” Eddie cooed next to you and Steve leaned closer to you, a smile all over his lips as he planted a soft kiss on your shoulder, making you shiver with a sigh and then he whispered to you.

“What do you want to do with that Sweetheart?” A grin was on your lips and then you whispered your plan to him, making Eddie pout. You giggled at his antics and you leaned to whisper it to him as well, and both men were stunned at what you wanted to do, but oh so pleased.

You changed the camera to the present, seeing your boss on a very important committee, with members of the board from the company and other companies that wanted to seal a deal. You kept changing the cameras, seeing people watching the LED TVs that are in the cafeteria, near the office cubicles, at the reception area…

“Do the honors princess…” Eddie smirked as he pointed at the ‘Enter’ button on the keyboard. And so you raised your finger and pressed the button in a strong hit.

Moans were heard all over the building, the words your boss said to Lydia as he fucked into her, everyone watching it happen, and you quickly changed it to the conference camera. You saw everyone start screaming at your boss, probably calling all deals off, and you didn’t even care if this would make you lose your job. You didn’t care at all if the company went bankrupt. 

You had lost all empathy. 

Maybe they can put another person in charge and it doesn’t go down. Maybe. You shrugged in your mind at what the outcome might be. You saw the men leaving as your boss tried turning off the TV but it didn’t go off. You smiled, looking at Steve who had his hand up, not letting anyone in the building turn off the devices.

Everyone saw it. Everyone was seeing it. Lydia will lose her job. She will be charged with adultery most likely as well as your boss. He will lose his family, his credibility, his company… All because he didn’t give you the promotion you worked your ass off to get for the past year. 

“He tried to come onto me. I guess that because I didn’t give in, he gave it to the person that gave the pussy to him. Resentful bastard.” Eddie and Steve’s jaws clenched tightly at that, and you didn’t ask for it but he twitched his hand again, and your eyes widened when your phone started playing the video as well, and you looked up to see everyone in the company building got their phones infected with it, to make sure absolutely everyone was seeing it.

You giggled with satisfaction as you slapped your hands together, pressing them onto your smile as you looked at all the cameras of people gossiping, screaming, running, just pure chaos as they all went to chase Lydia and your boss. Food was being thrown at them as well as toilet paper and drinks.

Your coworkers were mad, you all worked so hard so that one day you could try to get a raise, a promotion, anything at all, and it was never going to be appreciated. The boss only appreciated a good set of boobs and a tight cunt. And now they all knew. 

Eddie leaned over to you, now completely hypnotized by you, grabbing onto one of your hands to press a kiss on your digits, the index finger that pressed the enter button. You shivered at the action of tenderness, and then you felt your shoulder being kissed again, turning your head to look at Steve’s pleased face.

“Let’s head back. We got one more revenge, don’t we?”

“You guys didn’t answer me the other day…What did you do to become revenge cupids?” You asked as you walked into your old neighborhood with both men walking on your sides again. Steve was the first one to talk.

“I wanted to give my dad my revenge. So, I did what I knew would hurt him the most… I made him get a bad deal, only for his entire company to be stolen away. He didn’t read in between the lines, and gave all rights to a fake firm, losing everything.” You tilted your head at that because it didn’t sound that– Ah… you imagined what happened later on to his father.

“I see… He deserved it?” You asked and Steve chuckled, a somber look on his face.

“Fuck yes, he did.” You held his hand for comfort, stunning him completely at your touch, looking down at your joined hands. Your gaze turned towards the dark-haired man now who was already smiling.

“I made my father depend on drugs in jail. Make him suffer from withdrawal later on… I also made sure he goes back and forth into abusing and withdrawal, and to always have an eye kept on, so he wouldn’t put an end to the suffering.” You were stunned at his act of revenge.

His father would suffer until his last breath… You didn’t want to ask the reason for hatred, to either of them. You weren’t going to meddle in those past stories, but you were certain the people they directed the revenge to deserved it completely. Your hands gripped theirs tightly as you walked towards your old home. 

Eddie and Steve shared a knowing look with a hint of a smirk, looking forward as you guided them. It was the last act of revenge and you were going to make them pay. You were going to make them miserable, till their last heartbeat. You stood in front of your old home, the one you shared with him, the one you two bought together, the one you dumbly let him have full ownership of the home because he said that once you two had kids, it would be directly passed onto them.

That was all a fucking lie.

“He is not inside…” A house that he will keep, a house that you won’t ever enter again, a house he and his best friend, his actual boyfriend, made sure to keep all to themselves… A house you know doesn’t have any kind of insurance because your boyfriend has always been a cheap ass.

“So… what are we doing?” Steve asked with a squeeze of his hand. You let go of both hands and took a step forward, raising your right hand up as if waiting for something to fall on it.

“I will do this myself. Give me a Molotov.” You suddenly blurted out and Eddie and Steve’s eyes widened in surprise. You were… amazing. You wanted to do this yourself. Eddie reached out to you after a snap of fingers, and he placed an already fired-up molotov in your hand. 

“Go crazy baby.” 

And it was all you needed as you leaned your arm back, and threw the Molotov right into the living room’s wide window, the fire instantly catching on the couch. The couch you two once shared, a couch you two cuddled on as you watched movies. The house that holds so many memories, never a bad one, never a fight.

It was in flames, all of it. All your past in flames, all the people that deserved it, got it. 

Eddie and Steve looked at one another, waiting to console you for your possible breakdown. It always happened at the end of the acts of revenge. It is as if there was a bit of guilt, a bit of regret in everything they did… but you–

You laughed openly as you opened your arms wide, twirling around with happiness, and Eddie and Steve just stared at you, scanning all of you, looking at your smile, at the lack of empathy for all the hearts you broke in order to mend your own. You loved yourself, not letting people walk over you, not anymore.

And damn they wanted you. They deeply wanted you.

And now it was the day you dreaded. All the acts of revenge were done, over with. And they had to erase your memory now, leave you alone once more. It’s not like you will remember them, but will you be able to handle the loneliness? 

You three were in your room, both men looking at you with their arms crossed over their chests as you sat on the bed. You were mustering the courage to actually say goodbye to them, but in reality, you just wanted them to just do it. Press the device the men in black used to erase someone’s memory. Quick, easy.

“So… you two are gonna leave now, right?” You questioned them as your eyes went towards their eyes. A small smirk was in each of their mouths and Eddie was the first to walk towards you, sitting next to you on the edge of the bed.

“Well… You see baby…” He held your right hand that was on your lap, pulling it to his lips so he could give you a small kiss on your knuckles. A shiver ran down your spine, making you clench your legs together at the sight and then you felt your bed dip on your left, making you turn your head to see Steve’s face coming close to your face, his breath hitting your mouth.

“Remember what happened to Eddie?” You frowned at his explanation, not understanding what he meant, and his lips hovered over yours. “You caught… our attention.”

Oh… Oh… They wanted you. The both of them, at the same time… And you would be lying if you said you didn’t think of them at night. You would be a horrible fucking liar if you didn’t think of them railing you, fucking you into nothing, a blabbering mess. They intrigued you too, wanting to know more of them, and spend more time with them, you just wanted to do so much more.

You gasped when you felt Eddie’s free hand slowly slide in between your legs, holding you onto your inner thigh, squeezing the flesh there, making you whimper. Steve moved downwards so he could bite onto your exposed shoulder from the tanktop you were wearing. A small moan escaped your lips, and then you felt Eddie dip his head onto your neck, placing a kiss there, making you sigh in bliss. And then, he mumbled.

“Make a bond with us sweetheart.” He said in a sultry tone, making your limbs melt against him, his hand gripping your inner thigh a little tighter. You felt Steve’s lips going upwards to kiss the other side of your neck, and having them both kissing you like this just made you completely dizzy, and happy.

“Bond with us… Come with us…” Steve’s voice was as if you were a snake, and he was the charmer. Your body was on fire as both men joined hands on your lap, letting you know they were more than okay with including you in all of this. Their kisses didn’t stop, Eddie’s lips going towards your ear, biting on your earlobe, while Steve dipped into your neck, right in the union with your shoulder.

You whimpered, gripping their thighs as their joined hands let go of eachother, only to then dig them in between your legs, and their digits pressed on your inner thighs, one on the left, one on the right, and they both spread your legs, slowly. Your breathing turned heavy as your fingernails dug into their black pants.

“We can’t go on without approval Honey… You have to voice it out.” Eddie cooed in your ear, making you whine slightly as a moan got stuck in your throat thanks to him biting under your ear, to then blow cold air on that patch of skin. 

“Do you want this… or not?” Steve asked, placing one kiss on your jaw and… 

These men make you happy… So why the fuck not?

“I’ll bond with you two… Please, I want you both to take me…”  You wanted them to take you away from here, from this world, to wherever they are from. You didn’t care.

You could feel both of them smirk on your skin and the first one to turn your head to look at him was Eddie, a hint of lust in his eyes as his fingers caressed the dough of your inner thigh, sending shivers all over your body like electricity.

“You know how the bonding is done?” You may have an idea of it, but you assumed it had to do with a sacrifice of some sort or–

“You have to do a carnal bond, baby.” Steve mumbled on your skin, giving your shoulder a little nibble and now you understood why they were touching you, grazing your skin, kissing it, worshiping it.

“You have to let us mend your heart… and we can sense that you want us to fix it. Isn’t that right Stevie?” Eddie asked his partner and your head turned to look at Steve who had stopped kissing your shoulder, only to be inches away from your face.

“We sensed it days ago… The way you looked at us, the way you touched us in every chance you got, the way you take care of us and you love it… You fucking love it.” He whispered onto your lips, breath hitting them in the most delicious of ways, and your center clenched at nothing and their hands gripped onto your flesh even tighter as if they could feel what just happened.

“Say you are ours… And we will be yours too.” Eddie purred in your ear, and you didn’t think anymore, reacting by instinct, you pressed your lips against Steve’s, and a hum of approval vibrated in his throat. He kissed you back with an intensity you never felt before. Then you felt Eddie’s teeth nibble on your pulse point, making you moan into Steve’s mouth.

Steve’s fingers in your inner thigh traveled north, moving under your skirt and going towards your dripping cunt that was covered by your wet underwear. You whimpered at the touch, not noticing how Eddie’s hand moved upwards and under your tank top, gripping one of your breasts tightly, making you jolt slightly.

Steve took the opportunity that you opened your mouth, even if little, and his tongue found yours, greedily exploring you, wanting nothing more but to swallow your whimpers as you felt yourself falling more and more into the lust, into the desire.

He cupped you over your underwear, rubbing his palm against your covered clit, and a whine mixed with a moan made you move your hips against him. Your moan was muffled by his tongue and it seemed like Eddie felt left out, and pinched one of your nipples, and with a gasp it made you pull away from Steve’s kiss so you could voice your whimper.

“My turn to taste you baby…” Without needing guidance,  you turned your head and your eyes clashed with deep brown ones, and he instantly captured your lips with his, moaning at the taste of you. He pinched your nipple in between his fingers as he palmed all around it. Steve’s lips latched onto your neck, his fingers gliding underneath your underwear, pulling at the elastic to finally touch you, raw, making you straighten up against Eddie’s touch, hips moving against Steve’s.

Steve moaned at how wet you were, how soaked his fingers became just by moving, gelding them through your folds. His ring and middle fingers found your clit instantly, rubbing circles in slow movements, making you moan against Eddie’s mouth, and just like Steve, his tongue found yours after you opened your mouth to let your lewd sound out.

“Fuck Eddie, you have no idea how wet she is…” Steve chuckled against your neck and you let go of Eddie’s kiss in order to take a breath. You were extremely agitated but they didn’t stop touching. Your eyes widened, throwing your head back when you felt Steve’s middle finger enter you, a groan escaping his own lips.

“Yeah? Then let me feel it.” Eddie smirked as he let go of your breasts, gliding his hand down next to Steve’s who was pumping his finger in and out of you, squelching sounds being heard all over your room.

“S-Steve–” And then you gasped when you felt another intrusion. It wasn’t Steve’s index finger, no. You looked down and both men were now looking at you with smirks and dilated pupils, both hands were underneath your skirt and then they started pumping their index fingers in and out with no rhythm, one goes in, the other goes out.

“Holy shit Steve, you weren’t wrong.” Eddie was stunned by how drenched you were, your juices already coating both his and Steve’s fingers, seeing the white sheer ring of your slick forming at the knuckles. Steve’s mind was already hazing over, and he stared at Eddie’s face with want, and his partner understood completely what he needed.

Your eyes widened when you saw Steve and Eddie coming close in front of your face, their lips joining in a deep kiss, full of teeth and tongue, and the tempo in their fingers went even quicker, making you choke as you thrust your hips back and forth against them. 

The sounds of their kiss mixed with the squelch of your wetness and their fingers, made your belly turn and coil as your climax started to build. Your pussy clenched around them, and they noticed, chuckling into the kiss, and as if they read eachother’s minds, they curled the fingers upwards, and your eyes widened in surprise as your moans only raised in volume. 

“Ed– Eddie, Steve– God, you’re–” You smiled in bliss, throwing your head back as the pleasure became unbearable but you wouldn’t stop it even if the world was caving in. They pulled away from the kiss and Steve desperately pulled your tank top up, bunching up on your collarbone, with his free hand as you kept yourself up with your hands behind you and supporting your weight. His lips latched onto one of your nipples and Eddie clamped on the other. 

Their fingers in you, their teeth biting softly and pulling on your nipples, and you couldn’t wait for them to actually make you theirs. The simple thought of that made your pussy clench and they moaned at the feeling, and finally, their fingers synchronized, going in and out of you, curled up all the way abusing your g spot and that threw you off the edge.

Your mouth fell open as you convulsed underneath them, trying to keep yourself up with your hands as your chest pressed against their mouths because you arched your back, and your hips moved quickly against their fingers as they helped you ride your orgasm out. You were breathing heavily, your body trembling, and their fingers slowly slipped out of you once you stopped clenching on them.

Your body fell against the bed when their mouths unlatched from your chest with subtle pops. They were breathing heavily and both men looked at one another, a smile on their face as they raised the fingers that were inside of you, and Eddie licked Steve’s while Steve licked his. 

Even in your fucked out state, you could see that action. You whined with need as they moaned at your taste. They wanted to dive in, but there was going to be time for that later on. They both turned their heads towards you, and they got up from the bed, Steve held your skirt, pulling it off followed by your underwear, while Eddie took this time to undress himself.

Your eyes had heart eyes, mouth drooling as you climbed further into the bed, taking your tank top off, throwing it somewhere in the room, and laying bare in front of the two men. 

“Aren’t you fucking beautiful?” Eddie’s hoarse voice made you smile as you spread your legs inviting him over, his throbbing cock all the way up, in alert, red tip oozing precum, letting you know just how desperate he was to have you. 

“Well, fuck Eddie… And to think we will have her for all eternity…” You couldn’t help the wide fucked out smile you showed the two men, who were staring at you, drool almost slipping from their lips. 

“And I will have you both…” And that made Eddie growl, his chest puffing out and looking at Steve, as if pleading, begging. Steve chuckled and gave his partner a soft kiss on the lips, but his hand went up, gripping the dark hair, and pulled his head back.

“You fuck her… and I will fuck you.” 

Your eyes widened at that but you were trembling in excitement, ready to go again even if your body was still spasming from your last climax. Steve let go of Eddie’s hair and the latter smirked at him, then crawled on the bed to get in between your legs.

“Hi sweetheart.” He smiled down at you and your arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him into a soft kiss. 

“Hi Eds…” A toothy grin spread on his lips and you slid your hand down, gripping onto his dick and a groan escaped his lips as you rubbed the head of it against your folds, coating it and mixing with his own precum.

“Shit.” He cursed and you positioned his dick so it would rest on your cunt, and he moved back and forth, coating it with your wetness as a lubricant. Your clit was brushed every time he pushed forward, making you moan out his name. 

“Eds, please– Please–” And who was he to deny your pretty cries. He grabbed his cock and guided it to your entrance. He bit his lip as he slowly sank into you, both of you letting out strangled moans of pure bliss and you felt so full. So fucking full.

You must have imagined it through your lust and your mind becoming cock drunk, but you felt as if your chest was lighter. It wasn’t your chest per se, but it was like inside. You couldn’t think much because Eddie decided to move, making your moan finally come out of your mouth.

“Pay attention here baby. Just let yourself feel.” His face was sweaty, his eyes dilated from pleasure as he thrust in and out of you, and the wet sounds made it all the more pornographic. You felt his movement grow faster and then he was balls deep inside of you, making you throw your head back in bliss as your nails dug into his back.

“Eddie! Fuck!!!” You could feel him in your belly, you were sure that if you pressed there you would be able to feel the tip of his dick inside of you. Just the bump of it and it thrilled you. His skin started slamming against yours, and you let go of him so he could hold himself up with his hands and arms so he could slam deeper into you.

“Fu–” And his movement stilled for a few seconds as his eyes widened and you wondered what happened to him, only to then see the most beautiful face he ever made since you met him. His face became flushed, red on his cheeks, eyes glossed over, his hair falling down on the sides, and there was a different sound of squelching, you maneuvered yourself the best you could to look behind Eddie, and a smirk spread on your lips.

Steve was now completely naked, his cock a little thicker than Eddie’s but Eddie’s was a little longer. Both of them, you wanted inside, but for now, this will have to do. You can take Steve later on. The brown-haired man had his index and middle fingers inside Eddie’s hole, using the lube you used for your toys that sat on your vanity.

Of course, he didn’t miss that.

“Fuck her and my fingers. Now.” It was a command and you couldn’t wait for Steve to treat you that way as well. You bit your lip as Eddie moved again as strangled moans were caught in his throat, moving inside of you, to then pull back to engulf Steve’s fingers inside of him.

Steve’s patience though, was running thin. His hand wasn’t enough. He had been stroking himself watching Eddie fucking into you, but he wasn’t going to cum on his hand. There was no way. He hissed when Eddie clenched on him because you clenched on him. It was a chain reaction. He knew Eddie could take it, even with no preparation or just one finger, just as Steve could take him. 

He slid a third finger inside and Eddie’s eyes widened, stilling his hips all the way inside of you, a whimper escaping your lips as you felt his tip brush your G-Spot. Steve’s pace increased, not letting Eddie move as he pumped his fingers in and out of him, Eddie moaning with his eyes wide as Steve started scissoring him. 

“S-Stevie– Steve, please, more, more–” And seeing Eddie in this state was making your hips roll against him, making him groan and whimper, his arms trembling slightly and your hands went to his face, rubbing his cheeks, cleaning a bit of his sweat off with a smile on your lips.

“Steve… He is so beautiful…” At your words, Steve chuckled and pulled his fingers out of Eddie, a sigh escaping from the man who was whining on top of you, still inside of you.

“And you haven’t seen nothing yet.” And Steve had already coated himself in the lube, and he gripped Eddie’s hip, rubbing the tip of his cock against the small hole, and then you saw it.

You saw how Eddie’s eyes widened, and you could see the strangled choke as his mouth fell open, and then it shut, a whimper trapped in his throat, biting his bottom lip as Steve sunk inside of him, slowly, yet a satisfied groan escaped Steve’s lips, smile on his face as he closed his eyes at the feeling.

There it was again, the relief in your chest. A warmth that slowly started spreading all over, and you didn’t know if to tell them, to warn them. It didn’t feel bad, it was feeling good, like a breath of relief. You didn’t notice your eyes had glossed over, a tear slipping out of the corner as Steve bottomed out into Eddie.

Eddie was breathing heavily as Steve leaned forward to press soft kisses against the inked skin, and then he looked over his shoulder to see your face. He smiled fondly, despite what you three were doing. Eddie looked up and smiled weakly at you, leaning down to press a soft kiss on your lips before talking.

“Your heart… is mended.” 

And then Steve leaned over Eddie’s body, holding his waist, and he reeled back, only to plunge back inside of him, and thanks to that, Eddie went deep inside of you as well. The three of you moaned out, feeling whole, complete, full. You never felt this happiness before, it was as if everything in your life finally made sense, for once.

Steve’s thrusts became rough as his fingertips dug into Eddie’s sides, and Eddie was trembling on top of you as his hips moved inside of you thanks to Steve’s movements. Your cunt clenched around Eddie and he whimpered, his ass clenching around Steve’s. The latter man growled thanks to the stimulation, and a loud smack was heard across the room, Eddie jolting with a gasp.

“Move those hips, Eds. Fuck us.” Steve groaned out and you couldn’t help but guide your hand in between you and Eddie, your fingers finding your clit to rub circles on it, twitching at the sensation.

But then the air was knocked out of your lungs when Eddie started swaying his hips back and forth, thrusting inside of you, and making Steve’s cock thrust inside of him. He was doing it at a fast pace, choked-up moans escaping Eddie’s lips as he felt himself lose his mind to pleasure.

Steve was moaning behind, one of his hands holding onto Eddie’s ribs so he could move his waist freely, and he ran his other hand through his hair, feeling pleasure he hadn’t felt before, and he knew Eddie was feeling the same because of how cockdrunk he was right now. He can’t wait for his turn next time.

You couldn’t hold it in, it was too much, everything was just too much, but yet it wasn’t enough, and it will never be enough most likely because you will never get tired of these two. You were meant to be together. Your pussy clenched as you started trembling under Eddie, whimpering, whining, tears falling from your eyes.

“I’m– I’m going to cum– I can’t– I can’t hold it–!” You warned them and Eddie cried out when you clenched on him, and he once again clenched around Steve.

“F-Fuck, Steve, I’m going to cum too, I’m–” Eddie moaned out, his hips stopping the movement he was railing you with. Steve felt the coil in his stomach too, his balls tightening, and he smirked in bliss as he grabbed Eddie’s waist once more and started slamming himself inside of him, in order to make him bounce into you at each thrust.

Eddie leaned down so he could kiss you, but your lips never touched. It was just tongues swirling around, lips grazing every now and then as you inhaled his moans and he inhaled yours. 

And then, everything was white. You almost bit your tongue when your second climax hit you, without warning, your belly exploding as you clenched tightly around Eddie’s cock, which was still pistoning inside of you thanks to Steve’s thrusts. You were speechless, choked up, drool falling off the side of your mouth as you spasmed under Eddie.

Eddie was whimpering as he felt your clenching around him, and he gurgled a moan as he spilled inside of you, his ass clenching onto Steve. His arms trembled to keep himself up, his body fired up thanks to his climax, and Steve moaned loudly, his hips stuttering with one final thrust as he slammed himself inside of Eddie in one final thrust, making Eddie do the same with you, and his cum filled Eddie’s insides.

The three of you finally unclenched with one another and you thought you were going to die, not feeling like you had enough air coming inside of your lungs. Eddie was over you, trying to keep himself up in order to not crush you, but he was losing the battle. He looked over his shoulder towards Steve.

“S-Stevie… You need to get off or I’m gonna crush her.” Steve had his forehead pressed on Eddie’s back, trying to catch his breath. He nodded at that, and he left a kiss on his lover’s skin before pulling himself up and retreating so that he could pull out from Eddie.

A wince escaped from the long-haired man, and when Steve was out, he felt all of his cum dripping down from his hole, making him shiver. He slowly pulled out of you, making you snap back into reality, making you realize that this really had happened, and it made you whine as he left your cunt.

Eddie plopped right next to you, breathing heavily, and Steve crawled to lay on your other side, his chest going up and down from trying to get the right amount of oxygen back into his lungs. You felt Eddie’s cum coming out of you and onto the sheets, but you didn’t care. You really didn’t. Not when these two were right next to you.

“You okay baby?” Steve asked and you were about to answer, only for Eddie to interrupt in a hoarse, spent voice.

“Me or her? We have to get some personal nicknames for the three of us.” You couldn’t help but give a weak chuckle, your body sinking into the bed as both men turned on their sides to cuddle up to you, wrapping their arms around you, enveloping you like a cocoon.

“What… now?” You managed to breathe out, and Eddie kissed your shoulder as he rubbed circles on your arm.

“Well, you come with us now.” Eddie explained, but that did nothing for you to understand.

“Where?” And Steve smiled, his hand raising up and you knew he was going to snap his fingers.

“To our home.” 

And with a snap, the house became empty. Furniture gone, pictures erased, and no sign of a human ever living in that place. Your mother never had a daughter. Your name was not in the registry of your company. And your ex-boyfriend forgot he ever cheated.

But everything remained. Your mother could not bear her face, and nothing could fix her. The company eliminated the tyrants, and it was now a workplace for people who put their all into work. And your ex was left alone, without a home, without furniture, without anything at all. 

And a year later–

“I HOPE THEY ROT IN HELL!” A cute blonde with a ponytail screamed in the middle of a field. She was screaming with all the capacity her lungs allowed her, letting all of her pent-up anger out. 

Three figures emerged from the woods, two men, and one woman. The three of them were holding hands as they slowly approached the young girl who was already scared out of her mind but instantly calmed down when you sweetly smiled at her.

“Chrissy, right?” 

“Y-Yes?”

And you knew she was going to cooperate, filling you with joy, but a small hint of a wicked smile formed on your lips as the girl explained what happened to her, and it wasn’t just you who felt that joy.

They both smiled as they looked at you, your first task and job on this new Valentine’s Day. You could feel their pride as they looked at you, as you talked to the girl whose heart had been destroyed just like yours once had. You could feel what they felt and they could feel you as well. That was something new.

A constant chain reaction.

End.

a/n: fuck them fluffy fics

[mostly-marvel-musings]

someone sent a drabble about taking tony's virginity a while ago and that's been living rent free inside my head since then, and this prompt here <<Wrapping their fingers around your wrist and guiding you to where they desperately need you.>> reminded me of it. so like, could you write something about having sex with inexperienced young!tony and helping him pleasure us by guiding his hands? maybe he even asks us to show him what we need and stuff. totally okay if don't want to write this tho! thanks anyways

Guide me

Pairing: Tony Stark x F! Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, fluff.

🍁🍂 Kinktober 2024 ��🍁

.

“Tony, you’re going to be fine! Let’s just see where it goes and if something doesn’t do it for me, I’ll just tell you. Okay?”

He hummed in response, settling between your legs while his face nuzzled against your neck. You two had taken your relationship to the next step, you were comfortable enough to take it beyond just kissing and making out.

As you got into it, you both felt the desire that drew you in, the passion with which your bodies reacted to one another. Every time Tony kissed you, he took over all of your senses, he consumed you. The bubble that was Tony Stark’s aura, it enveloped you, making it impossible to ever think of leaving.

Clothes discarded along the way, you felt his hands slide southward, peeling your underwear off before cupping your sex. You’d felt him smirk against your skin as you gasped, legs parting naturally to welcome his touch.

He let his fingers explore you like unraveling the petals of a flower, looking for a spot that would gain a positive reaction. A light brush of his thumb against your bundle of nerves was when you jolted, he noticed, giving it a few tentative almost hesitant flicks.

“More, Tony..” you breathed, gripping onto his shoulders as he attempted to bring you pleasure.

He was getting there but not quite, so you decided to take matters into your own hands. Gently, you covered his fingers over with yours, making small circular motions over your clit as you bit your bottom lip.

“Is that how my girl likes it?” He nipped at your skin, immediately picking up on the way your body reacted to it, he was definitely a fast learner.

You nodded, closing your eyes as your hips began moving in tandem with his ministrations, you were already getting closer to the edge. Tony already knew how much neck kisses turned you on, he decided to combine it to push you further towards your climax.

He dipped a finger inside your slick channel, watching in awe as you let out a moan, his erect cock twitching inside the restrictive fabric of his boxers. Tony had never thought pleasuring you would bring him this sense of pride, that would in turn be so arousing for him too.

“Another? You can take it..” he encouraged you, his honeyed voice hot against your ear as he added a second finger, stretching you out some more.

You brought his lips down to crash against yours, fingers tightly gripping his hair as you deepened the kiss, happily exploring his mouth with your tongue.

He curled his fingers inward, without you having you to prompt him this time. He was a quick learner indeed, like he just needed a little push.

“Do that again- Shit, just like that, right there.” You whined, begging him to make you feel good, not that he’d ever deny.

“You mean this?” He murmured, hitting just the right spot inside you that turned your insides to jelly.

“I—I’m close, Tones..”

“Come for me, sweet girl.”

The increase in pace and repetitive movements brought you tumbling down from the edge, your body shuddering as your orgasm washed over you suddenly. Tony kept on with his actions, prolonging the overwhelming sensations as he felt your walls spasm around his fingers, clenching him with wanton need.

After catching up on your breath, you nudged his shoulder to make him lie on his back, taking your time to rid him of his boxers.

“I want you, Y/N…”

Tony’s voice was laced with a plea, one that made you take a mental note of taking charge more often. All that worry about things turning awkward flew out the window, this seemed like the most natural progression.

You gave his shaft a few pumps with your hand, watching as he turned to putty underneath you, mouth open as if silently wanting more.

Hastily grabbing a rubber, he rolled it over his length nudging you forward so he could be sheathed inside of you. You guided yourself over with ease, grip tightening on his shoulders while he sat up as you sank down on his cock, both letting out a moan in unison.

Your foreheads rested against each other as you accustomed yourself to the feeling of being so full, so full of Tony. Digging your nails into his back, you began rolling your hips, allowing his pubic bone to brush against your clit.

“Please mark me, I want everyone to know I’m yours.” Tony whispered, taking you by surprise. The man kept unraveling with every passing moment and you felt yourself wanting to know more of what he was all about.

As for his request, who were you to not oblige?

“Like so?” You whispered seductively right as your lips closed over the sensitive spot behind his ear, you grazed your teeth against his warm skin and sucked on it, hard enough to make an angry red mark bloom.

Tony reacted instantly, his grip on you tightened as he let out a grunt, his lust blown eyes met yours as they wordlessly requested for more.

As your bodies moved with a steady pace, your nails dragged down his back, making him hiss. All he wanted was to belong to you, and the fact that you were willing to fulfil his sweet request, it made his dick twitch inside your heat.

Pushing you both towards your climaxes, it felt like you belonged like this, together, attached as one. Nothing could ever come close to this experience.

“You’re all mine, Stark.”

You smirked as he moaned against your ear, nodding fervently like the good boy he was.

“All yours.”

Your thighs twitched as you came for the second time, your walls tightening around his girth triggering his orgasm too. Tony cried out your name in desperation as his hips lost rhythm, his balls emptying inside the condom while holding onto your body as if you were an anchor.

Lazy smiles adorned your faces as you came down from your respective highs, laying small kisses against his lightly stubbled face. He tucked your hair behind your ear gently, kissing your forehead before that signature smirk returned on his handsome face.

“Round two whenever you’re ready, sweetheart.”

This was the ask that got deleted, so this one’s attempt 2!

[fayes-fics]

When The World Is Free: Chapter 15 - La Vie En Rose

MASTERPOST PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, romantic vaginal sex, a brief reference to oral sex. Also features time jumps and the war coming to England.

Word Count: 2.4k

Author’s Note: Multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl. Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. This is the last chapter, and our pair finally have their idyllic home together in Wiltshire. There will also be an epilogue for this story that will be posted shortly after this chapter. Thanks as always to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy!

Wiltshire, UK, December 1939 - December 1940

The early December chill creeping under the hem of your wool coat instantly evaporates as your husband carries you over the threshold into your new home, warmth radiating from the roaring fires that blaze in each room.

“Welcome home, Mrs Bridgerton,” Benedict smiles, placing you gently onto your feet in the hallway, even as you do not relinquish the loop of your hands around his neck.

“Kiss me, Mr Bridgerton,” you appeal, pushing up onto your tiptoes and capturing his lips with yours.

Living in Aubrey Hall for the autumn was lovely, but a challenge to find privacy. Yes, time well spent as you were able to triage your friendship with Eloise, but tempered by a yearning to be with Benedict alone in your own home, impatient for the purchase to go through. It is three weeks before Christmas when you are finally able to take the last drive down to Wiltshire—this time for good rather than just a fleeting visit.

“I can't believe we are finally home,” you breathe happily over his lips, both of you breaking into matching grins.

“We are indeed,” he assures, withdrawing from your embrace to shuck his coat and help you out of yours. 

“Are we alone?” you whisper as he hangs both in the hallway cupboard.

“I told the two staff we have here to take the night off once we arrived, to return in the morning. They are in the little cottage down the lane, so yes, we are indeed alone, darling wife. What on earth do you have in mind?” He teases, sauntering back to you, that beguiling crooked grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I would like to christen our house,” you declare, raising an eyebrow suggestively as you slide your hands up his biceps and hook them around his shoulders, pushing your body into his, your intent more than obvious.

“Which room, my love?” his voice is like velvet.

“All of them, husband,” you declare, loving the way his pupils dilate and his breath hitches. “Absolutely every single one…”

—

Refracted flames dance across his glassy pupils as he moves over you, taking you with him, dewy skin from the heat of the fireplace you lay next to. The rug is a slight burn under your shoulder blades, not that you would ever ask him to stop, wanting marks on your body from this magical night, so long overdue.

“What are you thinking of, my darling?” 

His voice resonant as your nails scratch lightly along his spine, your toes running down his calf muscles, squeezing him between your thighs as he gently thrusts into your body.

“I am thinking…. I am thinking how free I feel,” you confess breathily, pushing your breasts into his broad chest, undulating your hips to meet his, wanting him so deep inside you are altered in some way. “I can scream your name like I have wanted to for months…”

He groans loudly, capturing your lips in an artless, open-mouthed, desperate kiss, his hands hooked around your shoulders, using his forearms as leverage to pull you into his rhythm. “Please do, my love, please do…. I have longed to hear you let go completely….” he admits stutteringly.

“I cannot believe I had to sneak around for weeks with the man I was married to,” you giggle, recalling those heady weeks in summer when all was a secret.

He huffs a laugh into your throat, kissing there. “And I cannot believe my wife had to sleep in a separate bed from me for so long…” After his proposal, admittedly, you had moved to sharing his bedroom, but seeing as it was right next to Eloise’s, it has been many months of quiet intimacy. The autumn night being too cold to spend in the unheated summer house by the lake. 

Your hands grab his shapely bottom and encourage his movements, harsher now, chasing that moment of bliss for you both.

“Never again….” you counter emphatically, twining yourself around him like a vine, never wanting to be separated from his naked body, for him to be inside you always, always….

“Never indeed….” he concurs, his voice gravelly and cracked with emotion as he spears deeper and makes you cry his name, the sound echoing up your living room walls.

—

As the winter months slip by, The Cottage, as you have both taken to calling it, is your constant refuge. And thanks to its smallholding farm, Anthony is able to pull strings and secure Benedict's status as exempt from military conscription, a relief you are thankful for every day.

Your home is a welcoming embrace when you step in from a rewarding but chilly day working in the drafty local village library—your insistence on wanting a job something Benedict never disputed. And his artistic career blossoms, too, each piece he completes becoming a hotly contested item at auction in London. A small conservatory attached to the back of the house transforms into his art studio, where he works most days crafting beautiful, lyrical landscapes that steal your breath with their scope and beauty.

And as much as your home is a place of peace, tranquillity and creativity, it is also filled with passion; many hours are spent in joyous lovemaking in any and every room of the house, the novelty still not wearing off for either of you, even months later. 

Indeed, your staff, a benevolent, older married couple who become more akin to family, soon learn to turn a blind eye to any amorous activities they may unintentionally encounter. Including one unseasonably mild and memorable evening when they returned from dinner to find you upon the lawn, screaming at the dome of stars above—your nails scraping across Benedict’s scalp as he feasted between your legs.

—

It is a cold February morning when you blink awake to the melodic trill of a robin outside the dining room window. Benedict is fast asleep as you lay cocooned in his embrace under a blanket, embers glowing ashy white in the fireplace beside you. You must have fallen asleep here after a rather vigorous late-night session on your sturdy dining table—a nightcap becoming so much more, two drained whiskey tumblers still sitting upon the gleaming mahogany.

You smile at the memory, then turn your attention to the man wrapped around you, following your compulsion to map the raised veins on the back of his hand in front of your face. Your tongue trails those contours to the constellation of freckles on his forearm that you kiss. He is so fast asleep that he does not even seem to stir…

“Maam, a telegram has just come for you,” a tentative voice calls from the doorway as you startle.

You look up to see Mrs Crabtree, sweetly averting her eyes.

“Thank you, Mrs Crabtree,” you breeze, trying to conceal your slight embarrassment at having been caught red-handed kissing your slumbering husband’s arm rather covetously first thing in the morning.

She politely bustles over and drops the envelope next to you before making herself scarce. You peel open the message, then emit a wracking sigh as a warm pair of lips slide across your shoulder.

“What’s the matter, my love?” Benedict queries, voice rough from sleep.

Wordlessly, you hand him the telegram, his eyes scrunching slightly, attempting to read it without his glasses. 

In it, your parents tersely remind you of the money outstanding to the vendors for your cancelled nuptials to Stanley and request you to send additional funds as soon as possible.

“You have been sending them money?” Benedict looks appalled.

“Yes,” you sigh, sheepish to confess to the one thing you have been keeping from him for a while now. “I have been using my income to wire back money in instalments.” 

“Darling, they should not be asking you to do such a thing!” he argues, getting slightly agitated. “They were plenty rich enough to pay for their daughter to travel to Paris a few months ago! This feels rather too close to extortion…”

“I do not wish to be beholden to them, Benedict,” you answer fiercely, “for anything.”

He sees the fire in your eyes, and his face softens, nodding in understanding, always your greatest advocate. “May I at least pay them instead?” he offers. “I am the reason you are not marrying that man after all,” he reminds you with a dry chuckle, nuzzling your cheek before twisting to discard the telegram into the fireplace.

“I knew I was not marrying that man the moment I dropped that damn shoe,” a light-hearted giggle bubbling up as you push onto your hands to hover over Benedict, recalling with perfect clarity the moment you first clapped eyes on the man lying beneath you now.

“You did?” he lilts, a demure smile claiming his handsome features, a hand landing warm on the curve of your bottom under the blanket, encouraging you to settle on top of him.

“Even if nothing had ever happened between us, I suddenly knew what desire truly was,” you concede, a nostalgic pang to return to Paris with him, to experience its beauty mirrored in his hazy eyes again.

He chuckles warmly, looking up at you with gentle, hooded eyes as you feel something swelling between your bodies. “It was love at first sight for me,” he confesses tenderly. 

“It was?” you gasp softly, smiling broadly, staring down at the man you cannot imagine your life without, touching his cheek reverentially. 

“As I said when I proposed, I would marry you a hundred times over,” he enunciates slowly, assuredly, every cell of his being radiating his sincerity and desire. 

“And I would to you, Mr Bridgerton,” you grin, leaning down to capture his lips and claim him for yourself, his breath a shocked staccato as he slides into your body for the first time without protection, so much heat and skin.

“Mrs Bridgerton,” he moans, his voice a symphony of wrecked and potent desire.

“Call me your wife,” you say breathlessly, pushing up to sit upon him, the blanket falling away from your back, your naked bodies glowing in the early morning light as you begin to move.

“Wife,” he calls, hands clamping firmly around your hips as you rise and sink upon him.

“Husband…” you call back and pull his left hand up to your face, sucking his wedding ring finger into his mouth as you stare down at him challengingly, knowing how aroused he gets when you use that word, the metal clinking against the ivory of your teeth as you shudder lightly around his stretching invasion.

This. This is all I want.

—

The following spring, May 1940, Paris is invaded. 

You manage to reach Solène and are grateful to hear she is well, the occupation for the most part peaceful, if not odd and jarring. Life for you in rural Wiltshire, on the other hand, is idyllic, spring bringing life to your gardens, a riot of flowers, herbs and vegetables growing, beehives buzzing with life—a wondrous time that is indelible in your mind, even in your later years.

But, as with all things that are perhaps a shade too good, that temporary peace is shattered a couple of months later, an air and sea blockade beginning in July, followed shortly after by the Luftwaffe bombing military targets on the mainland. A resolute but stoic fear gripping the nation as summer drew on, knowing civilian targets would inevitably be next.

At the end of August, Anthony commands the rest of his family to evacuate Aubrey Hall, the location far too close to the French coast for his liking, knowing as an insider that matters could escalate within a matter of days rather than weeks. You receive word that the family are moving to stay with Daphne and Simon further north in Yorkshire. Well, all except one key person. Eloise. 

Ever the rebel, she telegrams to tell you she has eloped with Phillip to Gretna Green, much to Anthony and Colin's (and now Benedict’s) chagrin, moving in with him defiantly, his home not far from Aubrey Hall. Instantly becoming a stepmother, too.

“Eloise, are you certain?” you implore into the telephone, September 4th, sitting in the office of the village library.

“About Phillip? Of course I am, you idiot!”

“Not that,” you wave an unseen dismissive hand. “I knew from that first night in Portsmouth you were as gone for him as I was for your brother…” you argue, her sneer at that evident even down the phone. “I meant remaining in Kent. It seems dangerous. Why don't you and Phillip come here to Wiltshire? At least for now? We have spare rooms, and you are most welcome to stay…” you appeal, chewing your cuticle nervously. 

Last night, you and Benedict had agreed she would more likely take up an invitation extended by you than him.

“I’ll talk to Phillip,” she sniffs, which is the closest you will get to a thank you for the offer.

Two days later, Eloise, Phillip and his twins are at your doorstep, and not a moment too soon as the period, latterly known as The Blitz, begins the following night. Their home in Kent is spared, but the village school suffers some damage the following week and even without her saying a word, you can see the gratitude on her face as she watches the twins play safely in your back garden.

—

“Here you go, Amanda,” you smile down at the little girl, handing her a shiny metal star to hang on the Christmas tree.

Her toothy grin is adorable as she places it on a branch, giving herself a round of applause before running off to crawl into Eloise’s lap, who is busy making festive paper chains.

It is early December 1940, and the Cranes have been living with you for four months now; you imploring them to stay as the Blitz drags on. There has been bombing all over the country, primarily larger cities, but rural Wiltshire feels as safe of a bet as anywhere, not under the Nazi flight path to London in the same way that Kent is. 

Strong, warm arms wrap around your waist from behind, and you smile to yourself as Benedict crowds into you, admiring your handiwork on the tree.

“It looks beautiful, y/n,” he opines sweetly, bussing a kiss onto your temple. 

“Thank you, my love,” you reply, swaying gently in his arms, watching the children giggle as they throw strands of paper in the air; Eloise’s appeal to them not to do so falling on deaf ears, her expression one of fond exasperation.

“I never thought I would see the day…. Eloise Bridgerton, a mother,” you chuckle quietly as he joins in.

“Believe me, as her brother, I feel sorry for those children every day,” he jests. “But even I have to admit she has taken to it better than any of my other siblings, to be honest,” pausing before pulling you tighter into his embrace. “And what say you to children, Mrs Bridgerton?” he queries, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice suddenly silky, that tone that has a frisson running down your spine.

“I say maybe, Mr Bridgerton, just maybe…” you respond breezily over the strain of carol singers from the wireless Phillips flips on, feeling the lightness of hope in your being - that one day, just one day, this war will be over, and the world will be free again.

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[dev1lm4n]

sinful reunion

masterlist | ko-fi (help me survive college :/)

pairing: engaged!joel miller x f!reader

summary: frustrated with how things were, you left joel and jackson for a whole year. today, you decide to give him a little visit and figure out that he's indeed engaged! joel trapped you in his bathroom to make you feel better

word count: 5k

warnings: explicit (18+), extreme dubcon, mean joel miller, fingering, infidelity, again.. joel miller is a mean, mean man.

note: do COMMENT and REBLOG if you enjoyed this :) i'm so exhausted from college i'm literally gonna pass out after i post this

Spring flew swiftly by, and summer came; and if the quaint city had been beautiful at first, it was now in the full glow and luxuriance of its richness. The great trees, which you remembered looking shrunken and bare when you left, had now burst into strong life and health. Branches doubled in length and girth, mantle of bright green draped over deep browns. Masses of white flowers brought memories of the late winter. A bubbling cloud of hot steam evaporated off your exposed forearm. The rolled sleeves settling right above your elbow was damp with sweat, same thing goes for below your arms and between your thighs. You sighed. The folded porno magazine you’ve been using as a shield above your forehead didn’t help much after all.

If it’s not for that old, obscene, grouch of a man, you wouldn’t have returned in the height of summer.

Things hadn’t changed much.

People are still as hopeful as ever. Their eyes shone with a renewed brightness, as if a full stomach and a roof over their head was simply enough to keep them satiated. They still bake apple pies, shovel their walkways, go to work (even if it's not to the infamous Wall Street), return home and share a familiar tequila with a friend or fiend. People are still people. And the pretend normalcy drove you insane. It’s confining and overall suffocating. 

Being safe ailed you. You couldn’t be that lady in old commercials. Plaid apron over her chest, sandwiches on the table, husband and kid smiling at her happily. You couldn’t kiss your husband goodbye or craft lunch boxes for your kid. You couldn’t live if it wasn’t on the edge of death.

You tried. For Joel, you swore you’d try.

It’s been a full year since you fled. Maxine, your dear horse being the only witness to your escape. That and the night guard you threatened with a shotgun, an unloaded one you’d argue, but it’d still have you in big trouble if it was reported. With a few old friends or two, you managed to slip back in discreetly. You disguised yourself as a patrol unit. Practical jeans, some stitches torn apart from prolonged use, and a khaki button up. Boots that’s dipped in dust and dirt tight around your calves, a bold contrast to the neat wooden boards underneath. Your eyes landed on the welcome mat in front of his door. A shrilling memory invaded your head‒ how you picked it out for him, all smiles and giggles at the corny line printed atop.

You stepped on the mat, mocking it by grinding your dirty heel atop.

Then you knocked. Precisely three times.

Maybe you shouldn’t have come. It was shameless of you to return. Cruel, even.. disgusting for you to abandon someone who’s clearly dependent on you. 

He lived for you. Every morning he made sure to wake you up with a gentle kiss on your lips, or your clit if he’s being kind. Every night he’d always tell you how much you meant to him, never an I love you, but always in the lines of dangerous situations and how he’d save you from it. You made a promise to stay. A promise to accept a ring around your pretty fingers when the time comes; doesn’t have to be shiny, you said, anything will do. But then you left. While he was out, keeping the city safe from any potential threats, you buckled up and tugged on your horse’s reins. Maybe you shouldn’t have come. Maybe you should just-

You jolted, even stumbled backwards when the large door swung open in one grand movement.

In panic, your eyes oscillated. His eyes were the same shade of brown you remembered him by, though this time it was much rounder, as if he’s truly surprised. Then it came to meet his hooked nose, the one you’d poke everytime you’re laid side by side post-coitus,. And his cracked lips, oh how you remembered kissing them better. 

Joel Miller hadn’t changed one bit. It freaked you out, how he looked the same as he did when he practically proposed to you or when you promised to still love him even when he’s no longer young and strong. Your breath quickened. Your heart froze, cold sweat dribbled down your temple even when the air’s hot and balmy. You clutched onto the rolled magazine. The salacious pages of nude girls in cowboy hats creased at the strength of your bare hands. Is he going to say something? Anything? You’d rather have him furious than silent.

“Who is it, honey?”

The air thinned.

“The turkey’s cooked, but it’s kinda burnt.” The voice giggled. “Oh, who is this?”

You counted to ten to ground yourself.

One.. Two..

“Just.. just an old friend,” he muttered.

There was a girl. A pretty one at that, standing on her tippy toes as she attempted to look past Joel’s broad frame to observe you. Her tanned skin glowed like a newly polished silverware under the summer sun. A cascade of glossy, ebony hair framed her round face, falling in gentle waves which closely resembled swaying palm trees in coastal beaches. You noticed that it was adorned with delicate, ornate hairpins as well. One of flowers and the other of a classic shape. Was it from him? He used to do that for you, picking up small items to gift like a bird in need of mating. The thin gold strap around your neck was from him, a gift from when the two of you were still operating high-risk jobs around Boston. A proof that you’re mine, he spoke that time.

Joel made the conscious decision to move to the side. Now you could see her more. How she’s cladded in a loose shirt with short sleeves rolled to her shoulders, how her shorts fit perfectly around her smooth thighs, how her supple breasts spilled out of the neckline. In any way you’d think of it, she was the better option. A masterpiece in the Louvre museum, a best-selling New York Times book. She’d be a model if the world wasn’t infested with flesh-eating nuisance. Your head lowered (you’re staring too much!), opting to scrutinize the details of your boots’ mud yellow strings. 

This was a bad decision. You shouldn’t have come. If only you weren’t curious of whether he’d get on his knees and beg for you to stay. If only you weren’t curious of whether he’d embrace you back in his large arms. If he’d fuck you ‘til your little brain stop working.

“Well then, what are you waiting for?” The feminine voice spoke up. “Invite your friend in, Joel.”

“No- haha, no it’s alright,” you panicked.

“No,” she reached for your hand. The free one, not the one with the porn magazine. “Com’on. I cooked a big dinner tonight! The more, the merrier.”

“I really shouldn’t,” you tried to convince her.

Her soft, greasy hands ‒ probably from stuffing the turkey she’s claimed to make ‒ led you through the entrance despite your many reasons. You found it a little funny that you still memorized the layout of Joel’s house like the back of your hand, like an old corny song you couldn’t quite get out of your head. The dining room was to the left, you remembered. It was just as you left it. An old, dull rectangular table sat in the middle. It used to be only filled with bread and fruits you pick up from the market. Sometimes you’re diligent enough to create a sweet jam, but there was never a fresh meal on the table. There’s no time for that. He would often times heat up a can of Chef Boyardee when you’re sick, or when he’s ruined your little hole so much that you’re pretty much bedridden, but that’s about it/

“Your name is?” you questioned, eyes still roaming around the room.

“Summer and yours?”

You mentioned your name half-mindedly as you sat down on one of the creaky chairs. You opted for the one on the left, your favorite one as it always gave you a five-star view of the lovely trees beyond. The room was much cleaner, curtains drawn and ceilings dusted. You’d even bet money that ‘Summer’ had also dusted all the compartments of the chandelier, wiped each and every window panel, and vacuumed the rotten patterned carpet underneath. The rounds of your pupils settled back on the sight unfolding ahead of you; how the Joel Miller, the same person who needed an entire year or two to be comfortable in expressing his feelings to you, led his new lover by the waist. He then proceeded to pull her chair back to aid her, a gentle smile on his face at all times.

He changed.

He looked exactly the same, but there was just.. something off about him. Was he a doppelganger by chance? Joel Miller is never warm. He’s naturally a tough lover. Reluctant, even mean at times, but right now he’s acting like the picture-perfect husband. A righteous man, which you knew he ain’t.

“So where’d y’all know each other from?” 

Her lovely, cheery voice pulled you out of your dazed state. You raised your head slightly to flash a small smile her way. The chair creaked once more at Joel’s weight as he settled on your right, heavy frame and all extremely obvious from the corner of your eyes. A man, his lover, and his sort-of-ex having dinner in the late afternoon of a warm summer day‒ how ironic! You couldn’t even look at him, because sparing him a glance meant that you had to look at those manipulative eyes of his. Those browns that could impose a certain feeling deep in your chest, whether hatred, fear, or something close to love.

“Work,” he spoke up, “used to deliver packets.”

Half the truth. Packets? Sure, but not ordinary ones.

“Mhm. We arrived at Jackson together.”

As lovers, you’d like to add.

“Long time friends then?” Summer beamed a sweet smile your way. 

Guilt pooled in your stomach almost instantly.

“Yup.”

“Oh well, me and Joel met last Winter. He’s fond of the horses and I work at the stables so things worked out,” she mentioned dreamily, “the winter festival’s our first date.”

An eerie tension stood between you and him. It was thick, as thick as blood and as nasty as pus on a wound left unattended. 

He stood up after a moment or two to help slice open the thick turkey and only then did you dare to look at him. To ogle at his large forearms that’s tightly gift-wrapped in a thin breathable shirt, to dig deep into where his veins start and where it ends, to finally relish in the sight of his thick, bushy hair. It’s been awhile. A long time actually since you get to properly look at a man. You continued to watch as he sliced a chunk and placed it right on top of your empty plate, the knife he’s holding reflecting his tight-lipped smile your way. The winter festival’s supposed to be your thing. The two of you’s thing, where you’d gift each other a surprise and smoke a blunt or two and maybe fuck, but you left.

“That’s nice,” you replied, albeit a little dry.

“He’s a nice man,” Summer chimed in. “Kind, caring, a true Southern gentleman that is.”

You could argue on that.

“Is he now?”

“True thing that is. Swear on my life,” she continued. “Must be nice having him as a friend.”

“Well, don’t toot my horn too much, darlin’.”

There it was. That masculine drawl. That voice that’d have you begging on your knees if he asked you to. You’d commit the greatest crime‒ no, you’ve commit notable crimes just to have him stay right by your side. Just to have him acknowledge what you’re capable of, so he’d take you under his wings in the depth of Boston’s trenches, because protection from him meant a good life. Maybe that’s all you’ll ever be to him, a little bird to protect. And maybe that’s all he’ll ever be to you, a protector in times of need.

“It’s a little warm here in Jackson,” you chuckled. “A cold beer might help a lot.”

“Oh sorry, honey, we don’t drink alcohol ‘round here.” She sounded apologetic, but you swore her almond eyes were judging you for a second.

“You don’t?”

“Nope,” Summer leaned her head to the side. “Been going to church these days. Pastor said it’s better to pray than indulge in past addictions. Ain’t that right, Joel?”

“That’s right, honey,”

Joel Miller is a church-goer now? For the first time in forever, you had the courage to look him in the eye. He was looking right back at you when you looked, though he had one of those expressions you couldn’t quite decipher. His tired eyes were hooded, enough that the top and bottom curve of his dark pupils are nowhere to be seen, along with a much obvious glint of mischief. It was either morbid curiosity, rooted hatred, or desires of past addictions as Summer puts it. The strands on your brow bone twitched ever so slightly, as if in pure disbelief that a man like him would kneel for a God. It’s not that sinners couldn’t repent. It’s him that you knew could never change. You took a bite out of the supple meat, never leaving his eyes as you do so. Maybe.. just maybe he’d crack under pressure.

“You go to church too?” Summer questioned, mouth full of boiled asparagus.

“No, not really.” You chuckled awkwardly. “There’s not a lot of churches out in the wild.”

“Ah, that’s right,” she hummed. “Why don’t you go to church with us this Sunday? A lot of fun y'know.”

You plastered on a smile, before briefly scooping some of the stringy meat up your mouth.

“I’ll consider it.”

Joel was the first one to snip the ungodly attraction‒ his eyes torn away to meet Summer’s much brighter gaze. Your gut tightened, gag reflex emphasized even more at the sight. Joel Miller was yours, that’s all you could remember despite the extent you took to avoid him, and having him give his precious attention to someone other than you brought a sense of disdain. He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn't land his eyes on anyone other than you, weren’t you the best thing he ever had? It took awhile to school your expression to a level of believable nonchalance. You found the vintage canvas hung atop of the fireplace a great help in distracting yourself. It’s easy to get lost in every stroke, every clash of colors, instead of the green man squeezing himself between your heart chambers.

“Oh, when did you-” you paused mid sentence.

A ring. 

“Ah.”

Your vision blurred, splotches of red and blue tearing at the edges.

“Engaged, huh?”

A solitary engagement ring encircled her long finger, miraculously preserved by time’s embrace. A relic at times like these. You watched as it glimmered under the orange hues, jaw propped up on your palm to stop it from gaping. A small, radiant stone set in tarnished silver‒ the object mocked you silently, a red flag in front of an agitated bull, it’s purposefully making you reel into the depth of your hatred. Where the you one year ago rested in peace, where the you you’ve been trying to erase off the planet’s surface hibernated, and everything’s starting to resurface all at once. The need. The desperation. The desire to be wanted by something.. someone you couldn’t acquire entirely. You laughed. A dry one at that. Might even sound condescending if it were a tad bit shorter.

He fucking proposed to her. 

Of course he did.

Of course he had to change his ways after you.

You don’t deserve being treated right. She does.

“Oh, you noticed,” she giggled, the noise shrill in your ears. “Just last month actually. We were having dinner and I-”

“Sorry, I..”

You were suffocating, chest inflated twice the size.

“Feel a little sick. Gonna go to..” you held your hand over your lips, genuinely feeling like emptying your entire stomach. “To the bathroom.”

You stared at your own reflection, pitiful, glazed with a layer of disappointment and grief. The vision you had for this visit slowly crumbled. Every unfulfilled dream, every missed opportunity, and every question left unanswered converged into a heartache‒ dull yet throbbing, coursing through every inch of your skin and crawling much deeper. The laughter and conversations you had with him seemed so.. distant, as if they were mere echoes of what once existed a million lightyears ago. You held yourself, worn down fingers clinging on your forearms, nails digging down onto the warm skin underneath. What were you expecting? For him to mourn your exit for the rest of his life? Perhaps. Joel Miller was great at making you feel like shit, but today takes the cake.

Leaving was the only thing on your mind and so you gripped the rusty door handle. A quick exit, you knew you were good at that. Though instead of a brightly lighted hallway, your chest collided with a tough chest wrapped in a flannel shirt. A sandalwood, musky flannel shirt you might add and all those plans you had in mind dwindled down like a damp paper airplane. Plan A, B, and C were quickly crossed out on the chalkboard. Frozen, your lips trembled in fear. You stumbled backwards. Boots thudding against the old tiles, you’re afraid. Chest inflated with fear, you’re terrified!

“Move, Joel.”

Silence.

“Fucking move. Get out of my way.”

You threw quick, meaningless punches on the broad of his chest. It did nothing but made him get bolder with his actions. He took a step back, which you’re grateful for, but not when you realize that it was to lean back against the bathroom’s door. You’ve come a long way from how meek and helpless you were in the QZ, managing to survive the scary outside world for a whole year and keeping all your limbs attached, but you knew that you’d never manage to budge his weight. He was heavy. Used to be a massive ball of muscles, though now slightly worn down by his age. Joel threw you a look. A dirty, demeaning one that’s always been reserved for you. Only you.

“Fuckin' hell are you deaf?”

You bubbled up.

“Fuck you and your little play house. Going to church? Should repent the many souls you took yourself,” you seethed. “You’re just a big asshole on legs y’know that? Now fuck off. It’s a fucking mistake coming to see you.”

You stormed his way. Big mistake. He took you by the shoulder. Rough fingers dug deep into where your bone sits, his knee quick to slot itself between your legs. He was quick to switch the dynamic, to be the offensive one instead as he had you pinned on the wall. The frail wooden bathroom door creaked at the contact, its hinges banging against one another. You looked like one of those dead butterfly displays, spread out forcefully to show your entire potential. Was he going to murder you? Was he going to bang your head against the mirror and leave you there to bleed? He looked like it. With those blown out pupils, you're not even sure if he’s going to keep you alive or dead. If he's going to finally end your misery at last.

“You’re gonna kill me?” You tried to shove his chest back, but it’s no use. “Gonna choke me to death?”

“No!” The grip he had on your shoulder never once loosened, even at your viscous accusations. “You really think I’d kill you?”

“I don’t know.” Your eyebrows sunken in sorrow.

“You don’t know?””

“You’re not the man I once knew, Joel.”

“I’m-”

“I don’t know you anymore! You’re not the same.” Your feet tried to tackle his legs, a move he taught, but he stayed unbudged. “You’re kind, attentive.. you’re there, Joel. You’re present in time. You’re never present with me.”

“That’s not true.”

“Oh fuck off, Joel. You’re not gonna gaslight me.”

That had him briefly loosening the grip around your shoulders. You were quickly met with his cold finger tips, grazing the soft skin of your cheeks, only to settle on your cracked, bloody bottom lip. In a haze, you’re unprepared for the hand slithering its way onto your throat. It squeezed tight enough to impede your airway for a brief second or two, only to loosened when your eyes grew teary. You gasped for air immediately.

“You left!”

“You proposed to her!”

His expression toughened. The Joel Miller you knew was back. The cruel one with tendencies to abandon, to be hollow of true meaningful feelings, and he was inching closer. His soft scruff brushed against the tip of your ears. Warm puffs of air made you turn your head to the side, avoiding his serpent-like hold. He's quick to guide you by your jaw when you start straying off.

“Didn’t know if you’re alive or dead.”

“Oh I bet you’d be enthralled if I were dead,” you chuckled humorlessly. “You hated me, Joel.”

“I was worried,” he continued, ignoring your comments entirely. 

He placed a gentle kiss on your temple, slow and steady as if you’d vanish into dust once more if he was too rough, and proceeded to smother sloppy kisses down your cheek and onto your neck. It glided like warm butter or sunscreen on a beach day. Joel never forgot the way in which you enjoyed getting those sweet spots below your jaw sucked, a mark to show his claim over you, to show his ownership even if you had to drape a shawl over it every time you had to shop for groceries or go on patrols. You weren’t as pretty and prim today though. You were untamed, always attempting to pull yourself away from him, to avoid his rough fingers and needle-like beard.

“Went on a search team every day for a whole month,” he hummed. “What if my sweetheart’s bleeding out in the midst of winter? Low visibility and endless snowstorms. What if you’re shot dead or worse, turned into one of those creatures?”

“But you’re a smart little minx, ain’t ya?” he huffed, his fingers gentle as it slowly popped the buttons to your shirt. His musky scent infiltrated your head. You’re drunk on him. “Threw a tantrum so big you disappeared on me.”

“No, Joel, we- we can’t,” you forced those words out, even when your soft breasts were spilled out of your chest. Those sensitive peaks were already stiff, you’d lie and say it’s simply because of the cold, but there’s no such thing. “Can’t- you’re en- engaged..”

He toyed with your nipples, squeezing and tugging on the right one before giving the same attention to the left. His eyes were dark, pupils dilated as he swirled around the sensitive skin with his coarse fingers. Your breath hitched and your chest spasmed. Every inch of morality left your headspace at the twinge of pleasure, your knees grew weak and he had to prop you up against his strong shoulders to aid you.

“You’re cheatin- oh fuck..”

“I am, huh?” he chuckled lowly. “You don’t want this then? Want me to leave?”

“No! No, please please,” you begged as his fingers carefully began to undo the stiff belt around your waist. He tugged on your zippers, tortuously, slowly unraveling the pretty skin he’s been missing so goddamn much. “I need you..”

“Needy minx,” he insulted teasingly. “Shameless, aren’t ya? Didn’t ya just say ya hate me?”

You whimpered. This shouldn’t be happening. This wasn’t in any of the plans you’ve concocted, it was just pure desire. He felt sinfully good. So warm and firm against your body, so strong and dependable. His shoulder proved to be the perfect place to bury your head into, muffling out the noises you’re prone to make when he shoved his entire palm down your panties. Joel Miller didn’t tolerate the misdemeanor. The hand he had around your neck tightened ever so slightly, before he abruptly pushed you back onto the wooden door. The hard material thudded against your back, resulting in a soft, breathless whine for more. He might be a mean, mean man for afflicting such things, but you’re even more insane for tolerating it.

“Ah, look at you,” he hummed, fingers tapping slow beats onto the hood of your clitoris. “No one fucked you good enough out there.”

You shook your head no. Annoyed, Joel slid his index and middle finger down onto your slit. He cumulated the slickness gathered around your pathetic little hole, before he slid it back up to tease. Up and down. Up and down. Then a full circle. The motion left you breathless, thighs bucking up against his hand, but he’d give you a light slap on the thigh if that happens.

“Oh.. you haven’t fucked anyone else out there?” he cocked his head arrogantly. “Dunno if I can believe a pretty girl like you. After all..”

He had the audacity to slip his finger in. A whole knuckle down your entrance, which is much more than you anticipated. Almost instantly, a sticky clear substance started dribbling out, gushing all around the foreign object infiltrating your cunt. It’s been so long, far too long that you kept yourself untouched. You could basically be categorized as a virgin again at this point. It wasn’t a deliberate decision, it’s just that no one turned you on this much. No one could shove their fingers inside you without getting their head blown off. No one but him.

“You’re not the girl I once knew.”

He turned your little insults right back at you. A single tear dribbled down your warm cheeks, hot and invasive, your fragile heart torn into two and stomped on the ground. Joel retaliated by pressing his lips right onto yours. Starting out soft and smooth, gentle and reverent, as if it was his way of apologizing and professing his undying love for you, but then it grew rougher and unrecognizable. A clash of teeth, a vicious fight for dominance. You had to put up a little fight, show him the kind of girl you’ve turned into, but when he eased a second finger down the tight rings of your cunt, it’s all over. You squirmed, desperately grinding down against his rough palm.

“Fuck me!”

“What was that?”

“Fuck me, Jo-”

A knock.

Your eyes blew wide open. The soft fluorescent lights flickered above, casting an eerie shadow that danced across Joel’s expression. You let out a soft whimper, eyes pressed into a crescent shape as you felt the need to cry out of fear and guilt, a sobering shot that made you realize how wrong this was. How disgusting this is. Immoral. Even when he was still three knuckles deep inside your pussy, even when you knew you couldn’t push him away. Your knuckles grew white as it clung onto the fabric of his flannel. He didn’t pay any mind to the interruption, instead, he continued to thrust his dripping fingers in, reaching around to find that squishy spot of yours. The one that’d send stars onto your vision.

“Are you okay in there? I didn’t know why you got sick..”

The muffled voice strengthened the guess you had in your head. It’s Summer, the girl with the engagement band around her fingers, the girl who’s supposed to have his two fingers deep inside her cunt. Your heart raced like a wild stallion, thunderous beats resonating in your ears. A small moan barged its way out your lips when he pressed on your clit once more with his thumb, he quickly guided your jaw back to face him with his free hand. Joel’s expression hardened, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a tight-line, then his mouth contorted into shapes. A wordless order to stay quiet and respond accordingly. You nodded, bottom lip slotted between your teeths.

“Was it the turkey I cooked? Oh god.. it’s my first time cookin’ in. I didn’t know that it’d be terrible. I’m so sorry, do you need some help in there? I can-”

“No.. oh! No.. no.. I’m fi- aaagh- fine.”

Your eyes darted around the small space, looking for any means to escape, but the solitary window was far too small to be of any use. Panic had seized you, but Joel’s fingers brought you back where he needed you to be. On the edge of an orgasm that you knew was going to melt your brain and make you go dumb.

“Really? You don’t sound too good.. I could maybe cook you up a remedy.. Oh, or we can go to the infirmary together? Just I don’t-”

“No.. ooh. Summer, I’m- shit- Summer, I’m fine.”

“Oh.. okay then. I’ll be waiting outside. Um, do you maybe know where Joel is? Kinda wanna see if he has some meds for you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you tried to navigate your way to release. The thumb he had on your clitoris started rubbing faster, tighter circles, leaving you on the very edge of a dangerous cliff.

“Dunno- oh fuck.”

He’s in there with you for fucks sake. Her fiancé’s here fingerfucking you!

“Gonna cum,” you muttered out a little too loud.

“What was that?”

“Gonna.. mmph.. Gonna come out so- sooghn.”

Your knees buckled, for once he allowed it, and you buried your face onto the crook of his neck. His fingers continued to thrust in the perfect rhythm, fucking back in the arousal that’s slowly dripping down. You weren’t shy in grinding back down onto his palm, neither were you shy when you came all over his fingers, the remnants left in an embarrassing pool down your trousers. His thumb tickled your clitoris, making sure the sensitive nub deserved all the pleasure it could get as he watched you crumble. Everything was just how you remembered it. Sinful, warm, and helpless.

“Okay.. I’ll go look for Joel in the backyard shed!”

[shatcey]

Last Theatre (Silvio)

Azel Silvio

Belle and Silvio are dancing at a party. Belle tried to dissuade Silvio from buying her dresses for all occasions, but he just replied

Okay… I only see a problem with storage, but you live in a huge castle, so you don't have such a problem. Woman, just give up.

A acquaintance of Silvio's came to them. Silvio noted that he didn't know that this merchant had returned for Bentonite. The merchant said he had just returned and was planning a grand celebration for the occasion. He even want to stage a play based on Silvio's adventures. After receiving permission, he noted that he couldn't find the scriptwriter and director. He was looking for a person who loves books and is passionate about Silvio's adventures.

I looked at the Belle.

Silvio replied that he knew only one person with such qualities.

I keep looking at Belle.

When Silvio looked at her as well, she was in complete shock. Damn, she's dense.

Silvio asked what kind of adventure the merchant had in mind.

Belle excitedly exclaimed that she liked the story as well, and gave examples of the scenes she liked the most. At the end the merchant said that she is exactly what he was looking for.

Do you realised that after that she will never refuse your offer? You're a merchant, and if Silvio knows you, you're a good one, so… Perhaps that's why you said that.

Silvio asked the merchant to buy him the best fabric, and then Belle asked why…

You're so silly… in a good way. Absolutely adorable.

Belle is not sure that she is capable of ensuring the success of the play. But the confidence of Silvio and the merchant gives her the desire to do her best.

After the party, while Silvio was negotiating with the merchant, she decided to re-read the adventures of Silvio. She was so engrossed in the story that she didn't notice when Silvio returned. Silly tells her that she doesn't have to get to work right away, there's still time. But she only said that because she really likes the story. She starts telling him how cool he was, here and there…

Initially, these sentences were on separate screenshots. I just put them together, they're too short anyway.

Even though she noticed this reaction of his, she couldn't stop to say how cool he was… And to silence her, he used a very effective method. A kiss and even more. The continuation is behind a black screen.

The next morning, Belle wakes up alone. She thinks that Silvio has already left for work and did it very carefully so as not to wake her up. She thinks it's another way to show his kindness, and she's probably the only one who knows about that side of him. With a renewed determination to show the world how wonderful Silvio was, she went to the table and began reading the adventure, making notes in the process.

Why do you look so shocked? Does she really have such a terrible bed-hair?

She happily ran up to him, intending to ask a few questions, but he just asked if she had been working all day? She looked out the window and realized that yes, indeed. Silvio took a deep breath and left the room. Soon he returned with a tray with tea and sandwiches.

Awwww... So caring...

Silvio noted that she didn't need to strain so much. The fact that she will participate will make the show a success. Well, of course, after all, this is his woman. The audience will be delighted.

But Belle replied that she was doing it because she wanted to show people how cool Silvio was. He was embarrassed again… you already know the pattern. After a breathless kiss, Belle asked him why he suddenly behaved like that…

He's so cute...

He told her that he would help her. And she asked him her questions. Actually in the end he answered a lot of questions and, one might even say, wrote half of the script himself. The best boyfriend/fiance ever!

The day of the play has finally arrived.

The play will take place on a ship. But when they (Belle and Silvio) arrived at the port, the merchant told them that the main actor had had an accident. His carriage overturned. It's nothing serious, but he sprained his leg and he was the one who played Silvio.So… they'll probably have to cancel the show. I look at Silvio. You're the best boyfriend/fiance in the world, right?

(squeal) OMG, he really is!

And so the show began.

Silvio was exceptionally good on stage. Not only did he turn out to be a good actor, but he also managed to perform complex acrobatic tricks that he and Belle had come up with for this show. Tricks that no one but Silvio could have performed. They made a simpler version for the actor. The audience was delighted, and Belle suddenly realised.

I read It as "As long as I'm with Silvio, I can achieve anything". It wasn't said that way, but the continuation of the story leaves that impression.

The performance is over, the applause and the curtain call. Belle is extremely happy that so many people liked the show.

At night, they sit in the room that the merchant has prepared for them (why they could not return to the palace, I do not know, probably they just allowed the merchant to express gratitude). She thanked Silvio for his help with the script and acting… She hugged him, and he blushed cutely, as usual.

I'm crying… He's so sweet…

Belle thinks that despite the fact she wanted to show others how cool Silvio is, she's happy that she's the only one who sees him like this.

She said she always wanted to see him on adventures. And now… her dream came true.

She hugged him even tighter and kissed him. He continued to argue with her… and let's say there was a black screen again. But it wasn't.

So… the event was as long as Azel's, but… I have significantly shortened it for several reasons.

While they were preparing the show, there was a lot of dialogues… Belle asked him about something, and he patiently helped her (I wonder where he found time for his job). It was sweet and all, but I still haven't figured out how to show it to you and not resort to full dialogues… so I ended up to simple phrase.

There was quite a big scene on the stage. But mostly it was Belle's delight at how cool Silvio was, and one catchphrase followed another from Silvio. He was really cool, but again, I didn't figure out how to tell you more details, but not too much.

And the last thing… I'm a pretty simple woman. My head is full of romantic pink fog (I hate this color, but I cannot express it more clearly), and outside of "cute" and "sweet" I'm totally useless. So… steamy scenes are easier for me to skip than to write.

I really like this event. But… this time, Azel definitely beated Silvio in my eyes. I still love you, Silly!

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🔝 Start page 🔝

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[sparkles-and-trash]

dabihawks, sleep talking 💤

Honestly, when Dabi started sleeping with Hawks, it wasn’t with the mission in mind; he wanted to fuck the pretty blond, so he did.

But then he realized; the pretty blond talked in his sleep.

Jackpot.

At first it was mere little chitters and chatters, some (cute) bird noises and mumbling, but Dabi knew an opportunity when he heard one.

So he does his little research, aka he googles how to get people to talk in their sleep, and he gets to work.

One of the main tips is to talk quietly to the sleep talker, asking questions and the like, and so he prepares.

When the next night comes, Dabi is once again unable to sleep, and sooner rather than later, Hawks is chirping softly in his sleep.

Dabi clears his throat quietly, before he asks:

«Hey, Birdie?»

It’s quiet for a bit, but then Hawks unmistakenly chirps happily back at him and flaps his wings a little.

Fuck, why did he have to be so goddamn cute?!

Dabi goes with another test question.

«Hawks, where do you live?»

He can see the bird’s freckly face scrunch as he thinks in his sleep, before he relaxes into a smile.

«Where the tartar sauce grows,» he says softly, before humming affirmlingly and turning around.

…oh.

Well, maybe that was a fluke? After all, Dabi had just started trying this out.

So, a few night later, he’s ready once again.

As soon as Hawks starts mumbling in his sleep, Dabi’s on it.

«Keigo,» he says softly, hoping to reach deeper with his real name, but before he can get any further he gets interruped by the sleeping bird.

«There’s… something!» he says intensly, face twitching lightly.

Dabi leans in, curious beyond belife.

«What, Keigo?»

The sleepy bird mumbles a little before he gasps.

«In the closet! Something in the closet… like a cartoon turtle!»

Dabi bets his face is pretty priceless right then.

He can’t help but chuckle a little.

«So you’re just as useless in your sleep as you are awake then?»

he says softly as he places a kiss on the bird’s forehead.

It’s about a week later when Dabi is having another night of restless sleep, and an old nightmare wakes him up in a cold sweat.

Luckily, he can turn around and wrap his arms around the sleeping bird next to him, and as he buries his nose into the curly blond hair, he hears a soft chuckle coming from the blond.

«What’s funny?» Dabi asks, voice raspy with sleep, fully aware Keigo’s very much asleep.

«You’re so great, Dabs,» Keigo says lightly, and to his dismay Dabi feels his heart squeeze.

«Yeah… you have such a great antennae.»

It takes all the self control Dabi owns not to laugh out loud.

In stead, he kisses Keigo between his wings, and wraps his arms even tighter around his waist.

«Thank you, sweet bird,» he chuckles softly, and Keigo chirps happily.

While the whole plan to gather information didn’t work, Dabi’s still insanely grateful he realized his bird was a sleep talker when he did.

The only time Keigo ever revealed something critical was when he mumblingly told Dabi that he was very nervous to propose to him next week, which only made Dabi smile softly at the sleeping bird.

«Good thing I’m planning to go first then,» he says softly as he kisses his soon-to-be fiancé’s forhead.

Good thing, indeed.

[icarustypicalfall]

Hi! I have a silly request but since we are both Rudy lovers (i am also radiant cod) can you please write a short little react on „I want uns to move in together“ especially Alejandro, Rudy, soap and ghost. Oc is female and ask that question 😭🥰

Hello fellow Rudy lover :3

Of course!! this is such a cute thing request awwh :')

DRABBLES!!

Cod Men's Response to reader asking them to move in together!!

Including: rudy, alejandro, ghost, soap Warnings: sfw, pure fluff, fem!reader Note: I can do a p2 with the rest of the characters if y'all are interested :D

«Moon, tell me if I could

Send up my heart to you?»

Rodolfo Rudy Parra

From the moment you met Rudy, you knew he was the right man. Not only because of his sweet demeanor, but also because of his charming personality and kind nature that made you fall hard for him. You and Rudy have been dating for almost a year and a half, and he has always treated you like a precious and delicate creature. No one has ever made you feel the way he does.

While you lived in the southern side of Las Almas with your family, Rudy resided in the bustling center of town. Getting to meet him was always a significant journey, especially with the increasing cartel crimes that made it unsafe to roam the city. However, the allure of spending nights in your lover's apartment was irresistible.

You were ready to take the next step in your relationship and couldn't wait to tell him. One late night, after spending the day together at his flat, making pizzas and dancing, you cuddled on the couch, sipping the Champurrado he had made. Rudy chuckled and gently wiped the chocolate mustache stain from your face before speaking lovingly.

"I haven't had this much fun in a while, mi amor," he murmured, brushing the strands of hair away from your face. "You seem distracted, amor. What's wrong?"

You sighed, placing your mug down, knowing it was the perfect moment to ask him. Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you gathered your courage.

"Promise me you won't get mad?" you said, looking into his eyes.

"You didn't like my abuelita's recipe?" he replied, giving you a disappointed look, causing you to laugh and shake your head.

"No, it's... I just miss you, Rudy. I feel like we're wasting time living apart. I wish we could... you know... live together. And it's..."

"You want to move in with me?" he interrupted, cupping your face and looking both serious and surprised.

You slowly nodded, furrowing your eyebrows, wondering if it was indeed a good idea. But Rudy's expression turned into a wide grin, as if to make sure you weren't joking. He pulled you into a warm embrace and showered kisses all over your face. Then, with a surge of excitement, he babbled in quick Spanish giving you a whole monologue, though you couldn't quite make out the words.

You assumed he was just thrilled, as he jumped up and rushed to grab his phone, yelling, "TE QUIERO TANTO MI AMOR!" before locking himself in the bathroom to happily inform Alejandro.

translation (i love you so much my love!)

ALEJANDRO VARGAS

After the betrayal of Phillip Graves and witnessing your lover wounded but still fighting with all his might, you were certain of two things. Alejandro Vargas was a loyal man through and through, and he was the man you wanted to be by your side until the end.

It was quite amusing how you had never considered moving in with him sooner, given that you both worked on the same frontlines, fighting against the same enemies, and spent countless nights together guarding your beloved country. The time had come to embark on a new chapter together, though you were unsure if he would agree. However, the thought of losing him that day shattered any trace of doubt or fear, leaving you with an overwhelming desire to hold him in your arms.

After a delightful dinner, you joined Alejandro on the rooftop of the base, a cherished ritual the two of you shared. Sitting in his arms, gazing at the stars, was the highlight of your day, especially since Alejandro was always busy with his duties. He motioned for you to come closer, opening his arms to welcome you as you rested your head on his thigh, relishing in the sensation of his fingers running through your hair. You inhaled his musky scent, your eyes fixed on the dark expanse above. Alejandro's smile brightened as he planted a tender kiss on your forehead, then whispered softly.

"My love, is everything alright? I haven't seen you this pensive in quite some time," he chuckled as you rolled your eyes, prompting you to share what was on your mind.

You sighed, sitting up and locking eyes with him. "I just...miss you," you confessed.

Furrowing his brow, Alejandro nodded, encouraging you to continue. "Miss me?" he queried.

"It's just...I wish we could spend more time together. I thought a part of me died when they took you away. I thought I would never see you again. That day made me realize how much I love you, Alejandro."

His gaze softened as he uttered a heartfelt, "I love you too," nodding for you to proceed.

"Would you like to move in together?" you blurted out, looking in his eyes with a hopeful yet anxious gaze.

The grin on his face widened, and he looked away briefly, his cheeks flushing with excitement. He bit his lip, unable to contain his joy.

"I was actually about to ask you the same thing, mi cielo..."

SIMON GHOST RILEY

You and Ghost were like two puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together, despite both being reserved and chilly individuals. Behind closed doors, you shared a love that no one expected to blossom. You connected on a deeper level, communicating your feelings without the need for words. It was as if you could understand each other's thoughts. Just like Simon, he wasn't fond of people, and neither were you.

Silence was your sanctuary, and you relished in the tranquil moments, indulging in activities during the early dawn or late night when the world was at its calmest. Spending the night at Simon's small flat in the city, the most peaceful corner of the bustling nation, felt like being in a place where you truly belonged.

He allowed himself to be vulnerable with you, gradually revealing more of his true self, shedding his mask on certain days, and even letting you take care of his hair and face.

Those special days spent together created cherished memories. Deep down, you yearned for more, wishing he could be the last person you saw before bed and the first person you woke up to. You hoped he felt the same way. Simon believed that actions spoke louder than words, and he made sure to keep you happy, occasionally letting slip a heartfelt "luv you."

Once again, you rose early to a cold day, with the usual morning fog lingering until the sun's rays pierced through.

It had become a habit to take Simon's dog for a walk before breakfast, as the nearby coffee shops opened up. Side by side, you walked in silence, inhaling the stillness and watching the droplets of water on the road. Simon placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, drawing you close for warmth as he calmly asked, "You alright?"

You sighed and nodded, your hands fumbling to warm them up. He clasped your palm, tucking it into his pocket, grumbling, "You should have told me straight away. There's no point in venting to Gaz." You looked at him in shock, feeling your cheeks flush. He had overheard your conversation with Gaz about how much you wanted to move in with Simon.

Ignoring your embarrassed state, Simon muttered, "Next time, tell me. I never said you weren't welcome there. Didn't know you had a parrot's brain.. that place is your home too." You gulped, staring at him in astonishment. "You, you don't mind?" His response was simple, he looked away and you swear you saw his eyes twinkle for a moment, "Never said I did."

JOHHNY SOAP MACTAVISH

The holidays were approaching, and you knew that you wouldn't see Johnny for at least two weeks. It broke your heart to be so close yet still apart. The Scottish man resided in a different city, causing the pain of distance to gnaw at you. No matter how many nights you spent together, one of you always had to leave in the morning, leaving the other to bathe in the sorrow of separation.

You longed to gather the courage to ask Johnny to move in together, but fear held you back. He was a composed man who loved you more than his beloved mohawk.

As everyone packed their belongings for the holidays, preparing to return to their flats, family homes, or partners, you entered Johnny's room and set your sports bag aside before sitting on his bed. A small laugh escaped your lips as Johnny scowled, procrastinating on packing until the last minute and now struggling to fit numerous shirts into his bag. You folded a shirt, assisting him in the task before smiling.

"So, Johnny, what are you going to do when you go back?" you asked. He grinned, carelessly tossing the clothes into the bag despite your protests. "Well, bonnie, I'm going to visit my family, and then I'll come to your place andbkidbap you and make you spend the rest of the holiday with me." You laughed and shook your head. "Can I tell you something, Johnny?" He furrowed his eyebrows, mumbling as he focused on his packing. "You'll come to my house. My mom has been dying to meet you. No excuses."

You chuckled and replied, "Well, I mean... I'd love to meet her, of course. But what I was actually talking about... do you think it's time for us to take the next step?"

The look on his face was priceless, and you had to playfully slap his arm to prevent him from blurting out something scandalous. "Not that way, you idiot. I meant... I think we should move in together. It feels like the perfect timing."

His grin widened, and he swept you off your feet, twirling you in the air. "I can't believe you said that, bonnie.. We..."

He didn't get to finish his sentence as he slipped on one of the shirts scattered on the floor, causing you to fall on your rear while he ended up trapped in his bag.

"Bonnie, help me!" he exclaimed. You chuckled and teasingly remarked, "I"I think I might just reconsider this step..."

𓆩♡𓆪

MASTERPOST

kindly like and rebelog, it motivates us to continue :)

[milliesfishes]

౨ৎ꣑ৎSerendipitous (Part Three)౨ৎ꣑ৎ

[fem reader] contains: forced lack of eating, body image issues, verbal abuse, physical abuse, cheating pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: stuck in an arranged betrothal, you think you'll forever be trapped until you meet billy and your world is flipped upside down (part three) author’s note: thank you thank you for all the love on this series, I hope you enjoy the last part! <3 Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist (chapter starting at My Love Will Never Die)

Secrets are a curse between two people. Once they are known they either bring them together or tear them apart. You and Billy were now closer than ever.

The cabin became your sanctuary, and you escaped to it as often as you could, when you weren't under the watchful eye of those who'd raised you, or your husband-to-be.

Billy's arms were your happy place, and he happily opened them to you whenever you needed. He kissed your worries away, talking enthusiastically of the future. Of how you'd run away together, how you'd get a little place just like this one somewhere far off. You lived in those daydreams when you weren't with him, seeing for the first time ever a future you wanted to be a part of.

The good thing about Billy knowing was that you didn't have to be so on edge all the time. He shouldered the burden with you, gave you some much-needed relief. In time, he coaxed more out of you, about life in Atlanta and the reason your parents had pushed this marriage on you.

"Ain't nobody should be blamin' ya for wantin' to pick the best ya could," he assured you, tracing your cheek as you lay bare by the fireplace sandwiched between blankets and cocooned against him. You nuzzled your cheek against his bare chest so you could feel his heartbeat. "Society rules 'n all...they hardly have a place out here."

"That's why I love it so much," you smiled, and he returned it in a lazy, blissful way.

"That's the only reason ya love it?" he teased, his fingers scratching your arm gently in a soothing motion.

Pretending to think about it, you snuggled impossibly closer. "Maybe there's a couple others."

He dropped his lips to the part in your hair, inhaling your scent softly. "Lucky, lucky man I am."

"You're holding a girl who's engaged to someone else," you mumbled, looking up at him. "Doesn't sound so lucky."

"Ah, you're worth all 'f it," he stopped his scratching and used the same hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. "Any man'd do the same for the sweetest girl in the West."

You let him have that, smiling softly. Billy didn't know he was one of a kind. Having exhausted the resources in most of Atlanta society, you would know. He was special, he brought you back to life. In secret, he reignited the flame you had thought diminished.

But even Billy couldn't erase the turbulence of your family and fiancé, as much as he wanted to.

One day as you were getting dressed, being laced into your corset for the day by one of the maids, your mother poked her head in, looking over you like one would a specimen. She dismissed the maid and started to pull at the strings herself, making your body jolt. Her tactics were more aggressive.

"You've gained nearly an inch," she commented, and you lowered your eyes to the floor.

"I can get it off," you promised, and a scoff was heard from behind you.

"Indeed you will," your mother said distractedly, and you felt the corset tighten around you. "In fact, I think it best if we put you on a restricted diet until the wedding."

You turned to look at her. "What-"

"You want to be able to fit into your wedding dress," she said firmly, and you looked back at the wall so she wouldn't see you clench your jaw. "Honestly, I'm not always going to be around to do everything for you. After you're married it will be your job to remain an acceptable weight for your husband."

It stung. Everything she was saying hit your chest like rain in a thunderstorm hit the roof. But you were an obedient daughter. And you didn't want to make her angry. So reluctantly, you nodded and said in a small voice, "Yes, mother."

"Very good." She tied the knot on your corset and reached for your dress, helping you step into it. You felt numb as she buttoned the back.

Going down for breakfast, you sat at the table and reached for a slice of bread. But then you remembered her words and slowly pulled your hand back, folding it over your other one in your lap. She was watching. Your mother nodded approvingly.

The frustration you felt was awful. Why should you have to do something so demeaning for such an awful man, who in all honesty would hardly notice? But now you were looking at yourself in the mirror through your mother's eyes, pinching the side of your waist and wishing you could cut it off.

Even when you were with Billy you were more hesitant to sit on his lap or lie on top of him, the internal voices telling you that you were too heavy. Sometimes he would bring a little something to the cabin to eat, and you'd nibble at it delicately, letting him have most of it.

Because it was Billy though, after the first couple of times he noticed. "Everythin' okay, sweet?"

You looked up from where you'd been staring at the floor, lost in thought. Remembering where you were, you smiled unassumingly. "Yes."

"You've hardly eaten anything, sunshine, ya seem a little down," he said concernedly, brushing his hand over your cheek. "Ya feelin' alright?"

"I'm okay," you reached for his hand and squeezed it. "Really."

Billy didn't look convinced, but he knew not to push it, so instead he reached out for you. "C'mere."

You hesitated, thoughts of your weight at the forefront of your mind. So instead of going to his lap like you normally would have, you sat by him, still close.

He frowned, tugging on your waist. "Baby, ya missed."

Pursing your lips, you shook your head, drawing your knees to your chest. "No, I'm okay here."

The resignation in your tone was clear, and Billy settled a hand on your thigh, rubbing up and down. "Whatsa matter, honey?"

You looked up at him, at how concerned he was for you. One look into his blues and it all came pouring out of you. The diet, your mother's comments, your eating habits...everything.

When you finished, Billy was quiet for a moment. Then he cooed, reaching for you. "Baby...you come sit on m' lap. You ain't too heavy 'n ya never will be."

He held you there, your bottom on his thigh and your legs across his knees, nestled between them. Pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your ear, he murmured, "Don't give any 'f it a thought. You're so perfect. Pretty as a peach, thought so from the first time I saw ya."

Oh, he always knew exactly what to say. Every minute he was with you made everything all better. Billy wrapped his arms around your waist, under your arms, one hand reaching up to rest on your heart. You leaned back into him and quelled every thought about your body, letting it be buried in the bundle of love he had you wrapped in.

"Can't do much for when you're not with me," he kissed your cheek, letting his lips linger there. "But when you are, I'll have ya eatin'." Billy lifted a slice of one of the apples he'd brought to your lips expectantly. Obediently, you opened your mouth and he fed it to you. "Atta girl."

Every day he uncovered some previously unseen facet of him that made you love him more. And could hardly do anything more than love him, love him with all your heart, love him like you'd never loved anything else. It wasn't give and take. It wasn't one sided. It was golden, pure and hope-filled, all encapsulated by this spot in his arms.

Your mother had insisted on a visit with Henry, and you hadn’t had the energy to protest.

Because she was apparently the expert on all things high society men, she told you to pay him a visit at his office. He would be so happy to see you, she’d said. Especially if you went with a smile.

So, biting the bullet, you allowed yourself to be trussed up like a prized calf and sent on your way, a tight smile plastered on your face as if by glue.

You looked at the tall building with dread. It nearly seemed to loom tantalizingly over you. Henry worked on the second floor, you’d been told (by him, numerous times). Gathering both your skirts and your courage, you made your way up the steps and opened the door.

A friendly woman directed you to the exact location of Henry’s office, and you took deep breaths all the way there. The outcome of the visit depended entirely on what kind of mood he was in. You prayed he’d had a good work day.

It was a unique gift he had, how he could make any door he was behind seem intimidating. You paused and stared at it, gritting your teeth. It’s only an hour, it’s only an hour.

Wishing on every eyebrow hair, star, and eyelash, you grasped the handle and pushed the door open. The sight behind it caused your eyes to go as round as the center of a daisy.

Henry was there, yes, but he was with a woman of unknown identity, who was sitting on his desk with half her dress unbuttoned and pushed down around her waist. Your fiancé was kissing her sloppily, his hands pushing her skirt up to her thighs, exposing the end of her stocking.

Involuntarily, you let out a gasp, your hand flying to your heart. Henry’s head whipped around, and you were almost pleased at his shock, at the slight look of guilt.

Before he could say anything, you turned right on your heel, shutting the door firmly behind you and walking briskly out. Maybe you should have felt bad. Threatened, angry, jealous, even. But instead you felt joyful.

Finally you had an out. You had a real, legitimate reason to leave him and call off the engagement. In high society abuse was (regrettably) tolerated, but infidelity was an entirely different thing.

Inappropriately giddy, you skipped out to your horse, and as you rode home the world seemed brighter. The sun was warm, the grass was green…it was so rare for you to feel this way when you weren’t with Billy.

Oh Billy! You were so excited to tell him, to hold his hands and say sincerely that it was over. You didn’t have to kiss behind closed doors anymore. A torrential stream of daydreams flooded your mind, ranging from running away to getting married, but this time to a man you loved.

You left your horse in the stables, bounding up the steps and immediately facing your mother in the drawing room.

She set aside her sewing and stood, looking puzzled. “What are you doing back so soon?”

Unable to help your elation, you gushed, “I caught Henry with another woman.”

Your mother didn’t seem put off by your tone. “You did?”

Gathering yourself up, you said, “I won’t marry him.”

Striding over to you, looking around for listening ears, your mother grabbed your arm and said in a harsh whisper, “What are you talking about? Of course you’re going to marry him.”

All your hopes and dreams were swept off the table, shattering into a million shiny pieces at your feet. Your heart sank like a rock to the bottom of the river. “What?”

Looking around suspiciously still, your mother pulled you further into the room and shut the door. When she turned back around to face you, her expression was nearly furious.

“I don’t know what you think you saw, but whatever it is…” she paused, looking you up and down. “It doesn’t matter. If he wants to continue the engagement, you will go through with it.”

The energy you’d accumulated from catching your fiancé wasn’t diminished like it normally would have been. There was a fire inside you that could not be quelled. “Over the last few months, he has treated me in some of the worst ways anyone could treat someone. I don’t love him, and I don’t want to marry him. You cannot force me down that aisle.”

Your mother took you by the arms and forced you to sit on the couch, stiffly sitting by you. She folded her hands in her lap primly, but the cold look on her face was hardly ladylike. “We’re nearly out of money.”

A cold wave of shock washed over you. “What do you mean?”

“Your father insisted on coddling you by keeping you in the dark but I cannot stand it any longer,” she said sharply. “Do you really think we left Atlanta with you for the fun of it? That we wouldn’t have sent you off on a train with Mr. Merritt so you were someone else’s problem if we could?”

It was a slap in the face if there ever was one. You could only stare at her.

Your mother continued with only a slightly softened tone. “Mr. Merritt possesses a sizable fortune. And with a marriage your father would gain advantages in the business he’s invested in. But only if you marry. If you end it, we will be ruined.”

Shame warred your inner instincts. You wanted to scream at the fact that you’d been only a pawn this entire time. And cry because of the obligation you felt to your family. Of course you didn’t want them to be left desolate. Your kind heart and seemingly permanently guilty mindset won out. Because it always did. Still, you tried to fight it, tears welling up precariously. “Please. I’ll be miserable if I have to spend the rest of my life with him.”

The emotion in your words did not sway her. “And what do you think will make you happy? That cowboy who likes to sneak around the property?”

You paled as she mentioned Billy, opening your mouth to try and diffuse the situation, but she merely shook her head, leaving you silent. Even the sight of her disappointment was enough to send you spiraling, a tactic she’d used since you were a child.

“What kind of life could that man, an outlaw-“ she said the word like it was dirty. “-possibly give you? Mr. Merritt offers stability. Comfort. If he’s stepping out, you can either live with it or try harder, since you clearly aren’t satisfying him.” Your mother set an uncomfortable hand on one of yours. “Be smart for once, and do the right thing. Or you will be responsible for our misery.”

The irony of that statement was not lost on you as she promptly stood and left, the door slamming behind her.

It’d been days and you’d hardly stopped crying.

Maybe your cheeks would never cease to be rosy, your eyes would never be dry again. Here in the cabin that was once your haven, you stood up straight with your arms folded and your eyes trained on the cold fireplace. The ash was akin to how you felt- once burning bright, now strewn about.

When the door opened behind you, you didn’t turn around. Nor did you when Billy’s arms slid around you, his chin resting on your shoulder. He must’ve taken his hat off, because it wasn’t nudging against your head.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he murmured, turning his head slightly to peck your cheek. When he caught sight of your reddened eyes and somber expression, he turned you around gently and pushed your face to his shoulder. “Baby…”

“I can’t see you anymore,” you breathed, feeling another wave of tears coming on.

Billy shook his head, his nose in your hair, hand softly stroking the back of your head. “What for?”

“I have to marry Henry-“ you started, and he pressed his lips to your head, cutting you off.

“You ain’t marryin’ that bastard,” he murmured, rubbing your back. “You don’t gotta be with me, but no way in hell are ya gonna be with him.”

“I want to be with you,” you pulled back, looking up at him. He had a bittersweet look in his eye, like he’d seen this coming. “But I have to marry him. My family…they…” His azure eyes reminded you of the seaside when you were little, deep, comforting pools you wanted to drown in.

Thumbing your cheek, Billy shook his head. “What’s your family done for you that you gotta keep givin’? That you gotta stay with someone who hurts you?”

Your lips parted to respond, but you found you didn’t know what to say. Although they were family, they had manipulated, scorned, and starved you; both of food and attention. All you could manage was, “I owe them everything. They took care of me.”

“That’s just what family’s s’posed to do,” Billy tucked some of your hair behind your ear, smoothing it back and continually running his fingers through it. “Ain’t somethin’ to repay.”

A single tear slipped from your eye. “They’ll be ruined if I don’t. I can’t leave them desolate.”

“‘S not your burden.” Billy pulled you back in so you were snug against his chest. “You didn’t get ‘em into this, and you don’t gotta get ‘em out.”

“Billy-“ A slight sob cut you off, and you slumped against him, his arms the comfort you had always known them to be.

He was the softest thing in the world at that moment because he loved you, really loved you like nobody else had. You could have sunk into him, buried yourself deep into his depths until the sun burnt out.

But the cold, nagging feeling inside you had other plans.

It was like tearing two magnets apart, the way you drew back from him. You took a heavy step back, taking one last look at him with teary eyes. And then, with a whispered goodbye, you left, disappearing into the cold dark world without any promise of coming back to the light.

Somehow more tragic than losing someone to death is losing someone who still exists in the world, because there will always be that possibility. The what-if. A chasm of regret.

In the next few weeks, it swallowed you, tore you into pieces and put you back together, even though you begged it not to, because then the hurt would only restart.

Henry had come to your door with false apologies and promises, talking in circles in a way that told you he was lying. You supposed you should have been happy he wasn't hitting you.

It felt as though you were standing still, letting things happen to you as time marched on. Your mother was disturbingly cheery, dragging you through the wedding plans, saying things you didn't want to hear and chiding you playfully when you showed little enthusiasm.

"A woman only gets one wedding, you know!" she said enthusiastically as you sat at the dinner table one night, nothing on your plate. She was holding a paper with the guest list, writing and crossing out names.

Your stomach growled softly.

Billy was in the shadows and corners of your life, as a ghost and sometimes not. You would see him across town sometimes as your mother took you shopping. He never said anything, never approached you, just watched silently.

One day as your mother was in the post office arguing for a better arrival time for invitations, he did come to you, removing his hat as he stood quietly leaning on the wall with you.

"Hey," he said softly, looking over you concernedly,

You didn't turn to face him. "Hey."

Always in tune with you, he must have known you didn't want to talk. Instead of asking how you were, a fact obvious to the human eye, he took one of your hands, lifting it and gently pressing something hard and round into it. When you looked down, you saw a shiny red apple, juicy and firm.

Looking up at Billy, your eyes widened slightly, your lips parting. "I-"

"Don't gotta say anythin', sunshine," he promised, taking your other hand and closing it over the apple. Lifting one hand, he traced your cheekbone, the thinning, pale lines of your face. Then his eyes wandered to the way your dress seemed to big for your frame, your bony arms. "Just take it, alright?"

You could hear your mother's shrill voice getting closer to the door. Nodding, you slipped the apple into the discreet pocket of your dress, and Billy squeezed your hand once before he left, disappearing around the corner.

Later in secret, you ate the apple gratefully, savoring every bite. He still cared about you. Even after you'd hurt him, left him. All the love you'd been trying to suppress came rushing back full-fledged. And now you were looking back at that night at the cabin, wishing you had done everything completely differently.

He probably would have run away with you, you realized one night before closing your eyes to fall asleep. The last thought you had was one of hope. Maybe you could fix it. Your family be damned.

The next morning a renewed spirit ignited in you. Maybe if you could find him, confess your loneliness without him, the bright and shiny love you still possessed...you didn't want to get your hopes up, but the possibilities set your heart aflame.

Henry was there when you got downstairs, and he turned around, smiling pleasantly when you walked into the drawing room. Perfect.

"I need to tell you something," you said determinedly, striding toward him.

"So do I." Henry caught you by the arms. "You need to pack your things. We're leaving."

Your mind went blank. What did he mean, leaving? "Leaving."

"That's right." His hair was a little messy, his smile borderline manic. "We're going to go somewhere else and get married when we arrive."

"Wait, slow down," you shook your head, sure you'd misheard him. "What are you talking about?"

"Do you remember the young lady you...ah...caught me with?" he said in a whisper, eyes darting to the side suspiciously. "Her husband knows. He's got it out for me. So, we need to leave as soon as possible."

"What about my parents?" you asked, looking back at the door worriedly. He turned your chin to face him again and you sucked in a breath at the violation.

"They won't be told. Your father will take over my position and they'll be fine," he pulled on your hand. "Go upstairs and start packing. We'll be travelling light."

You pulled your hands back, casting your eyes to the side as you thought. If Henry was leaving and your father and mother would be taken care of... this time, there was truly nothing holding you back. No guilt or loose ends or anything left behind.

And now that you had a chance at freedom, there was only one person you were running to.

Slowly realizing this, you lifted your head to meet his eyes, your face changing. "No." Your voice was light, and you said the word as a realization.

Henry stared at you. "What do you mean, no?"

"No." You said it firmly this time, straightening up as you looked at him. "I...am not going anywhere with you."

"You're my fiancé-"

"And you've been awful to me," you continued, a new, unfamiliar determination taking over. Lifting your chin, you couldn't seem to stop the words from pouring out. "You hit me, you cheated on me. And now you're asking me to run away with you like nothing ever happened." Shaking your head, you turned, moving to walk away. "We're finished."

White hot pain blinded you, manifesting in a sting on your face. Your knees buckled, and the floor was not a forgiving landing space. As your brain registered what had happened, you waited for the flood of lament, the remorse for having pushed him this far. But it never came.

Henry grabbed you by the arms and pulled you up, sending you stumbling back. He shook you, his expression murderous. "You should be grateful I put up with you after all the grief you've given me."

Looking you over, he exhaled once through his nose, and you were reminded of a bull about to charge. He could have been thinking about killing you in that moment, and you would have no idea.

And that thought, that he could kill you, was viable in that moment. For a second you were sure he would. That he would beat you bloody until your own family wouldn't be able to recognize your mangled corpse.

Instead, he pulled you by the arm outside, barking an order to get on his horse. Your body moved without thinking, and before you knew it you were riding, hanging onto him for dear life.

Would he kill you somewhere remote? Where they wouldn't find your body?

Henry took you all the way to town, getting off the horse in front of the local bank. He gave you a firm glare, and you knew it was a silent order to stay there. You got off the horse, petting its mane and trying to calm yourself. He wasn't going to let you go back home. By all counts, he was kidnapping you, forcing you to go heaven knows where. Hot tears blinded your vision, and you couldn't help but let one slip. Maybe you were entitled to it.

There was a hand on your shoulder, and you jumped, eyes wide as you turned around.

Billy held up his hands in a show of peace, looking surprised. "Woah, sunshine, it's just me." He squinted at you, and you knew he'd noticed your tear. "Hey...'r ya-"

He was cut off by you barreling into him, body smashing against his, arms around his middle, face burrowed in his chest. Your chest heaved with panicked breaths, and you breathed in his scent, wishing you could meld yourself into him.

"Hey...hey, baby, whatsa matter?" Billy asked worriedly, smoothing your hair and trying to calm you down. "Easy, sweetheart. Easy. Breathe f' me, yeah? You're safe with me, I've gotcha. I've gotcha."

Your breaths slowed down as you held onto him. He pulled you into a spot under the shade of a building, getting you out of the sun. "I've got you, sweet." Billy looked at you sadly when you lifted your head, his hand finding what must have been a patch of redness on your cheek. His fingers were cool against the injury, and you leaned into it. "Oh my baby. Who'd ever hurt my sweet baby?"

There were footsteps to the side, and you lifted your head frantically, seeing Henry walk out of the bank and look around for you. Billy followed your gaze and his face hardened.

Not wasting a second, he took his hat off his head and shoved it onto yours, pulling you into a nearby alley. He leaned sideways against the wall, so he was blocking any passerby's view of you. Once you were there, right up against him, he whispered, "What's goin' on? Ya look scared half to death."

Body nearly shaking, you looked up into his eyes. Seaside. "Henry's leaving town. There's someone threatening him. And he's...he's making me come with him."

He looked shocked, shaking his head. "No... no no no, you're not leavin'. He's not takin' ya anywhere."

"Once I knew he was leaving I wanted to come to you," you said brokenly, tears forming rivers on your skin. "My parents are taken care of. There wouldn't be anything...it was selfish of me to think you'd still want me after I-"

Billy pulled you in, knocking his hat up on your head so he could kiss your forehead. "Don't think I'd ever stop wantin' ya. You've ruined me for anyone else, my love. That ain't the point." He looked at you, nodding and urging you to continue.

"He didn't like when I said I wasn't coming," you said softly, closing your eyes and leaning your face fully into his hand. "We rode out here, and he just went inside for a minute. He's probably looking for me, I should-"

"If ya think I'm lettin' ya go anywhere with him..." Billy's fingers stroked the afflicted area of your cheek. "...you've got another thing comin'."

Looking up at him, seeing how sincere he was, how intent he would be on protecting you...it made your eyes well up for another reason entirely. You buried your face into his chest again, holding on tight to him. He held you close, and you knew he wouldn't let go until you started to.

Someone cleared their throat, and you jolted, looking up. To your horror, Henry was standing there, glaring at the pair of you.

Billy turned, and his eyes narrowed when he saw who it was. He pushed you gently behind him, keeping one of his hands clasped in yours. "Can I help ya?"

"You can hand my fiancée back." Henry's words were threatening, but they didn't seem as scary with Billy in front of you.

He stood tall and firm. "I don't think so."

Henry laughed in a chilling way. "I see. You think you've got her, Kid? We're engaged. Bet she didn't tell you that."

"I'm fully aware," Billy said unwaveringly. "Believe me, I know everything."

That seemed to take the wind out of Henry's sails just slightly, and he moved forward as if to physically hurt Billy. But your man remained solid, standing and staring him down.

For all of Henry's talk, you knew there wasn't any was he wasn't at least a little afraid of Billy. The fastest draw in the West, a famed outlaw. your ex-fiancé didn't stand a chance against him.

Scoffing, Henry took a tiny step back. "You'd really go this far for her? She's nothing but a-"

In an instant, Billy had him against the wall, holding him by his shirt, his face right up close. "You don't wanna finish that." His voice was low and dangerously calm.

You almost felt bad for relishing Henry's visible fear. He was so used to being at the top of the food chain, and Billy had knocked him down to the bottom. Henry's eyes were wide, and he looked at you, as if you'd help him. "You won't let him hurt me...you..."

The dead look in your eyes stopped him from saying the rest.

Billy turned to look at you, and his eyes softened. He gave you a look, and you knew right then that he would do anything you wanted. This was the face of a man who would kill for you. The power that gave you was scary.

Turning your eyes to Henry, you saw how pathetic he was, how vulnerable. Now he felt how he'd made you feel every day since that first morning in the drawing room in Atlanta.

And that was enough for you.

You focused back on Billy, shaking your head just slightly. In his eyes it was clear he wanted to do more, wanted to make him pay for everything he'd done to you, everything he'd done to everyone. But he didn't, and it was a testament to how much he loved you.

Shoving Henry to the ground and letting go of him, Billy spat, "You're not even fit to look at 'er." Leaving him crumpled at his boots, Billy went to you, his hands finding your shoulders as he looked you over. "You okay? All good?" He waited until you nodded before pulling you into his arms.

For a moment, you were more than content. Billy had you safe, and he was going to keep you safe. But when you looked up, you saw Henry getting to his feet shakily, reaching his hand inside his jacket and pulling out something silver, pointing toward the two of you.

Your eyes widened. "Billy-!"

He was a step ahead, whipping around, pistol in hand. A shot echoed in the alleyway, and for a second, you weren't sure whose it was.

But then Billy was turning back to you, gun already tucked back against his hip. He looked over every inch of you, tucking your hair behind your ears and gently pressing one of his big hands to your head, settling the hat more firmly against your head. Now both hands were settled behind your head, holding you with his palms over your hair.

His body was blocking Henry's, and you knew he was trying to shield you. So, you let him. You looked up into his eyes, feeling the last tendrils of the engagement crumble from around you. He nudged his nose against yours. "M' brave girl..." he whispered. "Nobody's gonna hurt ya no more."

When he pulled you into his chest again, your belief in the statement multiplied tenfold.

You and Billy had left town by the time the sun rose on the next day. It felt metaphorical, the way you snuck back into your home to gather a few things, tiptoeing past your parents' rooms and taking a horse from the stables, riding side by side with your man over the hills and out of sight.

You never saw Henry's arrest. Never saw the judge proclaim him "unworthy of even a wink of decency".

You never saw your father regain his status as a businessman. He and your mother made the journey back to Atlanta, where he operated remotely, building his success back up.

You never saw anybody from your old life again,

Turning over in bed, you lazily looked up at Billy, snuggling up against his chest as sunlight spilled through the curtains, creating a warm patch on the sheets. You treasured every morning you got with him, remembering that first one where you'd left in such a hurry. You never had to do that again.

Billy nosed against your cheek, peppering gentle kisses over it. Oh, the way he looked at you. Eyes sleepy, smile bright even in the early hours, his arms tightened around you. He muttered against his skin, "I don't think I even know how much I love you."

Rubbing his chest contently, you sighed softly. Your smile seemed permanent these days. "My love."

"My sunshine." He pulled you so you were resting directly on top of him, his eyes warm as you folded your arms on his chest, your chin resting there.

Your liberty was his gift to you, and you chose to spend it on him. Billy took your heart and showed you how it beat.

"Every time," you breathed, and his lips brushed yours, his hand tangling in your hair. "I would choose you every time."

Previous Part

[themotherofhorses]

💚

pairing: aemond targaryen x modern!wife!reader

prompt: 💚 true love's kiss / magic kiss / healed

jla masterlist

His boy tugs at his arm, speaking through his many high-pitched giggles. "Come! Come! You have to wake up mommy, daddy!"

"I do?"

"Yes! You're the only one that can do it!"

Aemond raises an eyebrow at that. "And how might I do that, Aemion?" His sweet wife lays on the couch, sleeping in a peaceful dream. Or, at least, he hopes she is. She's been cursed to slumber for a thousand long and cruel years, according to their son.

He sits beside her, listening to her soft breathing and watching her breasts rise and fall, with two small hands crossed atop them.

"True love's kiss, daddy!"

True love's kiss. Aemond glances up at little Aemion, who- in his sheer excitement- climbed up onto the couch's arm. "What makes you believe I can wake this absolutely exquisite princess from such an evil witch's curse?"

Aemion laughs again, rocking his tiny shoulders back and forth. "Because you're mommy's true love! In all the stories mommy reads me, the handsome prince always kisses the princess awake! And then they live happily ever after."

Aemond nods. "I see." He leans to caress his wife's cheek, twirling a hair strand around his finger. "Well, I suppose I could give it a try....anything for this beautiful girl."

He hovers over her sleeping body, pressing his lips against hers in a tender kiss. Aemion squeals in the back, dancing around the living room. "Wake up, my sleeping beauty," Aemond murmurs.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

A few seconds later, his wife's eyelashes flutter, and she then gazes up at him with gorgeous, starry eyes. "You've saved me," she whispers, donning her warm smile once again, "-you've saved me, my handsome prince."

Aemond chuckles, sliding his hands up her back to help her sit up. "Well, at least I know for sure that I'm indeed your true love."

[therantfairysblog]

The Desire to Live.

He do have a desire to live. To be honest.

Yet he was forcing himself to die. He feel his blood impure. The feeling that burden him for so long.

Iguro walking behind Shinazugawa, as he watch his friend, his crow come and send him a letter.

"it's from Kanroji?" Shinazugawa smirked at him.

"yeah,"

"well I'll going home first, see you later"

"see you"

Iguro keeping the letter in his sleeve, while walking, he watching various peoples, their smile, in a shop, there's a group of grown up men having a nice convo and a group of family happily having a dinner.

His walk stopped a bit. A family? Even if you are sharing the same blood with them, didn't mean you could trust them didn't it? In fact, he know it very well.

"mom, I can't finish it,"

"Dear, eat a lot okay" the mom carefully fed her. "So you can grow up big and strong" Her sweet smile across her face triggered something uneasy in his heart. Iguro walk away fast and sit a bit in the bench under a willow tree. Taking a deep breath, Iguro tearing up the envelope, the sweet fragrance of lemon welcoming him.

"Iguro san, how are you? Thank you for your letters the other day. As expected, Iguro san has really nice words in his poem.

Iguro san, the other day, i saw a beautiful flowers, that i encounter after my job done. It's so pretty, reddish and yellow, but I'm not sure what is the kind.

It's such a shame but i pluck it one. Maybe if Iguro san know the kind? If you have a time, can we go to Yumiko san's restaurant? It's been a while. I want to show it to you too.

Iguro san, aren't life is pretty? I love encountering new things like this. I hope we can meet them together. It's fun when you are here. "

Iguro, unconsciously kiss the letter before folding it back to his sleeve. He continues to walk. 'life is pretty?' He wondering about it a lot.

He remembered his conversation with Shinazugawa. The sudden disappearance of demonic attack, the eerie silence, Kamado's sister. That's where he realized, his goal are rapidly moved towards him. His goal to die defeating muzan.

He always want to clean his blood, but...the uneasiness of his heart, his little trembling. Is he afraid? Or...moreso, he actually want to live.

Ever since he met her, yes perhaps, there's a tweak in his desire. Iguro walking while looking around his surrounding, watching a couple walk happily side by side, with the man giving the woman a nice hairpin and put it in his woman's hair. His gaze lowered. Iguro sigh. The desire that he couldn't afford.

......

"Kan...ro..ji" the smell of blood mixed with burning iron is so disgusting, he was desperately called for her.

She didn't response anymore. Her chest didn't moved like always. His calestial maiden has drifting away forever. Kissing Kaburamaru, he couldn't stop his tears.

The memories coming back, the red flowers, the sakura mochi, the restaurant, their final vows and all of it mixed up. Not a single memory of his family were there. It as if he was finally being forgiven by God.

'life is indeed pretty' He couldn't feel anything anymore. Iguro Obanai life ended at 21.

There's no regret for him. His goals achieved, and he hope for the better life in his next life, to meet and fall in love with Kanroji again.

But if there's one, to be honest, he still want to live a bit longer with her in this life. To have a dinner in Yumiko san restaurant again, to find a new interest together.

He want to live.

[buckrecs]

roommate bucky fics!!!

Roommate!Bucky

masterlist | req masterlist

here!!!

ONESHOT

Late into the Night by @wehaveabucky-archive

“you’re my roommate who’s super cute and it’s the middle of the night and you’re cramming for your exams in your flannel pyjamas and disheveled hair and it’s becoming increasingly hard for me not to kiss you” au

not even a little by @intrepidacious

The problem of living with Bucky is that he makes it impossible not to fall in love with him. Even though you could list several hundred reasons why it’s a bad idea. And you have.

Warm Comforts by @jadedvibes

A sudden breakup causes you to feel self-doubt and insecurity about your situation. Fortunately, it’s nothing your sweet roommate and a little Legally Blonde can’t fix.

Under the Sheets by @vanderlustwords

Bucky spends more time out of his dorm than in it with how much his roommate amorously makes love to his girlfriend. Luckily, his cute across-the-hall neighbor is generous about lending her place to him. Bucky’s unsure if he wants to hug or kiss his roommate for putting him in the situation he is in now. 

Bubblegum Ice Cream by @bucky-at-bedtime

Babysitting with your roommate, Bucky.

no filter by @buckysdior

bucky is a grump who gets flustered easily. reader has a habit of drunk calling and not having a filter

Roommates by @backpackfullofplums

Bucky gets his own apartment because he wants to be independent and not rely on Steve. After a while he gets lonely so he puts up an advert for a roommate.

Saturday Mornings by @delaber

Bucky loves his Saturday morning routine but is disappointed when he finds it has changed.

Redamancy by @renxzs

Maybe it was a bit naive to think moving in with your best friend and long-time crush, Bucky Barnes, was going to be some smooth road that led to an admittance of mutual feelings for one another and a happily-ever-after ending, wrapped up nicely in a bow. Naive indeed; especially when you have to consider the fact that Bucky is the biggest womanizer you know.

sugar by @sunshinebuckybarnes

You have another terrible date but luckily your roommate is around to help. 

Do Not Fall In Love by @bucksangel

after becoming roommates with a virtual stranger - that stranger being the notorious bucky barnes - navigating living with him and an onset of feelings you refuse to acknowledge is working pretty well. that is, until, he gets injured far worse than you ever imagined.

no more losers by @witchywithwhiskey

your obnoxious roommate bucky barnes interjects himself in a conversation about your sex life, and things take a turn you didn't expect.

SERIES

home for the holidays by @classylo

your mom had been pestering you for weeks about coming home for thanksgiving and bringing along the boyfriend you've kept secret for so long...

Little Lavender Friend by @thepsychewrites

The stories and encounters you and Bucky face as roommates, best friends, and eventual lovers.

Pride and Privacy by @adrinktostopyourthirst

Bucky works on himself as he gets used to a roommate. Turns out, she has a much better room than him and he crossed the line.

Project V by @babyboibucky

You ask your best friend Bucky a favor of a lifetime.

roommates by @pietrotheavenger

the mundanity of being roommates with bucky.

the feelings mutual by @bucksfucks

the amount of times you and bucky have seen each other masturbating is alarmingly high. might as well do it together.

Lonely Night by @marvelouslizzie

Your crush on your roommate gets out of hand. His smile ruins you in a way you never expected.

Ask for a Rec <3