#except false. false they could never make me hate you

[shepscapades]

I hope you’re happy, I hope you’re happy now /ref

[koalemoslepus]

//Warning I have a tendency to accidentally hide my true vents in the tags by total accident

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I just saw an AI bot meant to give you the AI prompts to write AI image generations like at what point do we literally just get to revoke brain if you're not going to do it like literally we don't need you to copy and paste the machines could do that quite easily with a script and frankly I vote we pay them instead of you because shit maybe we could get some deflation in here if the money starts disappearing and it's not like you're fucking doing a damn thing for it also in my like in my warped verision of reality I cling to maybe?? If we let everyone go down this rabbit hole of the tech we have at present being sentient we could somehow crackpot loop our way back around them being regulated more than a worker maybe we'd help curb the cash incentives cause I know they'd get more protections / freedoms than a woman would in my lifetime FUCK anyway

[daryltwdixon]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 4.5 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 6.5

Summary: Tensions rise as the three of you try to find clarity in the aftermath of lines crossed and feelings laid bare. In the weeks that follow, you begin to wonder if something this messy could still become something that lasts.

|| smut MDNI 18+, some mentions of pregnancy, angst and feelings, some fluff, dirty talk, pinv, blowjobs, love triangle (?), no outbreak, jealousy, possessiveness, power play, joel talks you thru it of course, fair warning this isn’t exactly healthy, bad communication, don’t do this ok EDIT TO ADD: threesome, some dubious consent at first then reader fully consents. Tommy is an asshole || notes: eeeehhehe okay I love this one. its a long boy! I listened to you and didn’t delete any of it lmao I love this dynamic so much and it makes me so happy to know everyone is as filthy as I am // pic of Joel & Tommy is mine //

“So, when you saw them, what went through your head, Tommy?” Dr. Servopoulos asked. The office was neat, almost unnervingly so. The walls were bare except for a few framed photos—serene lakes, white sailboats drifting across still water. A false sense of calm in a space built for unraveling things that weren’t calm at all. The air smelled faintly of old books and lavender, a weak attempt to soften the weight of conversations like this.

It had taken a lot to convince either of the men beside you to come today.

Bringing anyone into this mess was hard enough, but laying it bare for someone outside the three of you, having someone watch, analyze, pick apart what happened behind closed doors felt like something private was being dissected under a microscope.

Joel hated this. You knew he hated this. He was a man who carried his feelings in silence, whose apologies lived in things left unsaid. He didn't do this—didn’t sit in stiff chairs like this, in stuffy offices like this, didn't put words to things that made his throat tight. Yet, he still agreed to be here.

And Tommy—you knew this was hard for him too. Not just because of what had happened, but because sitting here, having someone else pick at the wounds, meant acknowledging that things weren’t okay. That they couldn’t just fix it themselves. That you had invited someone in to see the cracks that had formed over the past few months.

It made the walls feel closer, the chairs feel stiffer, the quiet feel too loud.

You watched Tommy as he sighed beside you, his fingers rubbing at his brow. His eyes flickered to the doctor before dropping to the floor. “I don’t even remember,” he muttered. “S’like I’ve blocked it all out.” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I do remember the right hook I gave ‘im when Joel was tryna say somethin’ to me.” His voice darkened. “Ya know. When they were finally dressed.”

The last word dripped with bitterness.

You flinched. Your fingers curled together in your lap, knuckles pressing tight.

Joel shifted beside you, the slight movement drawing your attention. He sat stiff in his chair, his thumb rubbing absently at the bruised, purple swell on his cheek—the evidence of Tommy’s fury. He hadn’t said a single word since the session started.

You cleared your throat, forcing yourself to meet the doctor’s gaze. “Dr. Servopoulos—”

“Tess,” she offered smoothly.

“Tess,” you amended. “We never meant… this was never supposed to get this far. I just want him to know I never—” You turned to look Tommy in the eyes. “I never intended for this to happen.”

Tommy let out a rough scoff, shaking his head. His arms crossed over his chest. “Yeah, well, neither did I.”

A quiet beat.

Tess glanced at Joel then, waiting.

Joel felt the weight of her stare and finally looked up. His dark eyes met hers, unreadable.

Tess raised a brow. “Anything to add?”

His jaw ticked. “What d’you want me to say?”

“You tell me, Mr. Miller.” Tess mused, tapping her pen against her notepad. “What about how you ended up sleeping with your brother’s wife?”

Joel exhaled slowly through his nose. His knuckles flexed. “Didn’t start out that way.”

Tess hummed. “Right.” She flipped to a page of her notes. “So let’s lay this out. You—” she nodded at you, “wanted a baby. You—” she pointed at Tommy, “were willing to ask your own brother to be a sperm donor, which then turned into you—” she turned to Joel, “what, just doing your brother a favor? By sleeping with his wife?”

Joel’s fingers drummed against his knee. “I did say no at first. But yeah, somethin’ like that.”

Tommy mumbled under his breath, “Yeah. A real big favor.”

You swallowed.

Tess scribbled something down. “Okay,” she said, flipping her pen between her fingers. “So when you three agreed to try for a baby in this… hands-on way, you never foresaw the possibility of… complications?”

You shook your head, stomach twisting.

“Not once?”

“I didn’t think about it,” you admitted, voice small. “I thought we were just—we were focused on the baby.”

Tommy snorted, rubbing a hand down his face. “Yeah? Well, neither of you seemed focused on it when you were sneakin’ around.”

You flinched again.

Joel finally looked up at him, his expression dark. “We weren’t sneakin’.”

“Sure as hell felt like it,” Tommy shot back.

Tess sighed, leaning forward, her gaze flicking between the three of you. “Alright, let’s just call it what it is: things got complicated. Lines that were there for a reason got crossed. And the problem wasn’t you trying for a baby—it was everything that happened outside of that agreement.”

She gestured between you and Joel. “You broke the boundaries you set. Maybe you ignored it, maybe you thought you could handle it, but now you’re here. And not because the plan failed, but because you broke your own rules. You had sex outside of what you all agreed to.”

A brief pause. Her eyes scanned each of you, as if silently asking any of you to deny it, before she tilted her head.

“So let’s cut to it. Why are you here? What do each of you actually want?”

Tommy exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I don’t know, okay?” His voice cracked slightly. “I just—I ain’t ready to throw away my marriage, but I also ain’t stupid enough to pretend like nothin’ happened.”

Tess nodded, absorbing his words before turning to you. “And you?”

Your throat felt tight. “I—” Your hands fisted in your lap. “I don’t want to lose either of them.”

Tommy’s head snapped toward you.

Joel’s fingers twitched.

You swallowed, your voice steadier now. “My marriage with Tommy is important to me. He is important to me.” You turned toward your husband, eyes pleading. “But things are complicated. Because Joel is important too.” You hesitated, shifting your gaze to Joel’s hands, his knuckles tight and white where they pressed together. “I don’t want to just cut him out of this just because of one mistake.”

Tommy’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t interrupt. His fingers drummed against his knee, his gaze flickering between you and Joel like he was waiting for something.

Tess sat forward slightly, pen poised. “And Joel?”

Joel dragged a hand down his face, exhaling through his nose. “I don’t wanna make things worse than they already are,” he muttered, voice low, unreadable.

Tess hummed, unimpressed. “That’s not really an answer.”

His fingers tapped against his knee. “Ain’t got another one.”

You turned toward him, heart pounding. “Joel.”

His jaw flexed, his eyes staying downcast away from you.

You didn’t push right away, letting the silence stretch between you before trying again, voice softer this time. “What do you want?”

His throat worked, but he didn’t speak.

Tess glanced between you both. “It doesn’t have to be a speech, Joel. Just say what’s in your head.”

Joel breathed in a slow, heavy breath, rubbing the heel of his hand over his mouth. His fingers dragged across the stubble on his jaw. When he finally looked up, his eyes locked onto his brother. “I know what we agreed to,” he said, voice steady but low. “I know this was supposed to be your kid, that I was just…” He trailed off for a second, shaking his head, like the word didn’t sit right with him. “That I was just helpin’.”

The room felt very still. 

Joel shifted, his knuckles flexing against his knee. “But shit changed, Tommy.” His voice roughened. “I can’t just—" He exhaled sharply, shoulders tensing. “I won’t just step back like this don’t mean nothin’ to me.”

The weight of it settled between all of you. Tommy’s knee bounced, his hands gripping his own upper arms where they were crossed. His mouth pressed into a hard line, but he didn’t speak, didn’t argue.

Joel swallowed, gaze flicking downward for a second before lifting again. “I ain’t askin’ for—” He hesitated, his jaw flexing like the words were hard to force out. “I don’t even know what I’m askin’ for.” His eyes flickered to Tommy’s. “But I do know I ain’t gonna be left out to dry.”

“No one said you would be,” you tried to soothe, your hand reaching to rest on his forearm, shaking your head. His skin was rough, warm, solid beneath your touch.

Your eyes traced the worn lines of his face, the quiet tension in his jaw as he looked at his brother. He was handsome in a way that felt etched into him, shaped by time and hardship, by everything he’d carried.

And you knew—better than anyone—how much Tommy meant to him. That neither of them trusted anyone as much as they trusted each other. That this needed to be amended before anything else could carry on between the two of you. You took your hand away from his arm.

Tess let out a slow breath. “Okay,” she murmured, nodding slightly. “Thank you, Joel. I think everyone needed to hear that.”

Joel’s fingers flexed again, and this time, his gaze flicked toward you, studying you for the first time since you arrived. There was something there—a charge, a quiet pull that hadn’t been there before. Or maybe it had, and you were only noticing it now, now that everything had changed.

You let the silence stretch as you kept your eyes on his, trying to read between everything he wasn’t saying. That he wanted to be part of this, that he wasn’t going to give this up easily.

Then Tommy sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Alright,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Then we gotta figure out what the hell we’re actually doin’ here.”

Tess tapped her pen against her notepad. “Right. So let’s talk about our options.”

“Options?” Tommy echoed, his voice edged with skepticism.

Tess nodded, uncrossing her legs only to recross them the other way. She leaned forward slightly. “The way I see it, there are ways to make this work—even if none of them are simple.” She flipped to a fresh page in her notebook. “But make no mistake: it’s going to take work.”

Her pen tapped lightly against the paper as she continued. “Let’s start with the obvious: you can walk away from this entirely, go your separate ways—but none of you seem too eager to do that. Or, you and Tommy could stay together, work on the marriage, and Joel can remain in the background. Be some kind of father figure to this child and nothing more.”

She lifted a brow and looked directly at him. “But I’m not sure, with how far this has gotten, that that’s actually what you want.”

Joel didn’t answer right away. His jaw worked, tension shifting through his shoulders as his eyes dropped to the floor.

Then, quiet but certain, Joel said, “It’s not.”

Your chest tightened. The urge to reach for him surged again, stronger this time, but you didn’t move. You let him sit in the silence he’d chosen, even as it said more than anything else could.

Tess gave a small nod, like she’d expected that answer.

Joel didn’t elaborate. Didn’t look up. But the shift in the room was immediate. Whatever this had started as—it wasn’t just about the baby anymore.

Tess paused, giving the moment space before she spoke again.

“So the third option…How do we feel about the possibility of an open relationship?”

The silence that followed was thick, charged.

Tommy looked at you. You looked at him. Then at Joel. Joel stared at the floor, his jaw tight, expression unreadable.

Tess leaned her elbows on her knees, voice calm but direct. “I’ll be honest—I rarely see that work in situations like this. But it’s an option. If you’re willing to set clear, honest boundaries—and actually respect them.”

Tommy let out a breathy, humorless laugh, running a hand down his face again. “Boundaries. We’d need real ones this time. Ones that actually get followed.” His voice was edged, not cruel, but firm. “Not just shit we say and then ignore the second someone gets all… worked up.”

You tried not to let the flush creep onto your face as you kept your eyes on Tess as she went on.

“Now, let’s talk about Sarah.”

Joel immediately stiffened, his eyes shooting up to look at the doctor. Tommy did too.

“She doesn’t need to know about any of this,” Joel said, voice sharp.

“Not right now,” Tommy agreed. He turned to his brother, “But eventually, she’s gonna ask questions. And if we’re talkin’ about raising a baby together too, we can’t just not think about how this looks to her.”

Tess nodded, writing something down. “And if you don’t figure out what you actually are to each other, she’s gonna pick up on that long before you’re ready to have the conversation.” She flicked her gaze between all of you. “Kids are perceptive. The more unsure you are, the more confusing it’s gonna be for her.”

“When the time comes,” Joel said, measured, “I’ll tell her.” He glanced at Tommy, then at you. “Not before. Not unless she starts askin’.”

Tess watched him closely. “And if she does?”

Joel exhaled, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Then I’ll explain it to her. In a way that makes sense.” His eyes flickered between you and Tommy again. “She don’t need to know more than what’s right for her age.”

You let out a slow breath, nodding. “Alright.”

Tess closed her notebook. “Alright. It’s a start. But you’ve got work to do. This isn’t just about a baby anymore.” She looked directly at Tommy. “It’s about your marriage. About your relationships with each other.” Then her gaze flicked between you and Joel. “And whether or not you two can actually handle boundaries, or if this is just a slow crawl toward something blowing up in your faces.”

You swallowed. Joel’s hands clenched.

Tommy just sighed. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Guess we’ll find out.”

The walk into the parking lot was a quiet one, with the buzzing of unsettled energy between the three of you. Once outside the door, you all seemed to turn to each other, waiting for someone to speak.

“Thank you,” you said finally, your voice soft. “Both of you. For coming to this. I know it was…” You couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Weird,” Joel offered, with a dry edge.

“Necessary,” Tommy muttered, crossing his arms.

You nodded, arms folding across your chest. “So…” you trailed off, unsure what came next. None of you were.

Tommy gave a short sigh and looked off toward the lot. “I’ll go grab the truck.” He didn’t wait for a response—just turned and walked, shoulders tight, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets.

You and Joel stood in the stillness he left behind.

He glanced at you, then away, rocking slightly on his heels. “I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to say right now.”

You huffed a quiet breath. “Yeah. Me neither.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, like something was caught just behind his teeth—but he didn’t speak.

And you didn’t reach for him, even though you wanted to. Even though your hand twitched like it might. To squeeze his, to graze his wrist, to pull him close and maybe even kiss him goodbye. But it was still too weird. Too soon.

So instead, when Tommy pulled up and the tires crunched on the pavement, you stepped forward and let your fingers brush lightly over Joel’s shoulder. Just for a second. Just enough to say something without having to speak.

The window on Tommy’s side rolled down, elbow braced on the edge. He was watching his brother with a resigned look in his eyes.

Joel met his eyes. They exchanged a short, silent nod. Nothing more.

You climbed into the passenger seat, heart thrumming. Joel stayed standing where you left him, hands in his pockets, watching as the truck pulled away.

And even though nothing had been said… it felt like something had shifted. Just enough to make it through the rest of the day.

For mid-October, the sun sure was baking you in the bleachers. But it was the good kind of heat—cozy, not oppressive. The air smelled like dust and hay and horses. Behind you, the fair buzzed with life—kids screaming on the roller coasters, bells ringing as prizes were won, music from the concert stage floating over the field like static.

The Austin Fall Festival was in full swing.

Tommy sat beside you on the sun-warmed metal bench, one hand deep in a bag of kettle corn, the other resting easy on your knee. Down in the arena below your seats, another bull rider went airborne, thrown like a ragdoll into the dirt. The crowd let out a collective wince.

“Damn,” Tommy said, watching the guy scramble to his feet. “That’s gonna bruise.”

You snorted, grabbing a handful of popcorn. “Bruise? That man’s spine just folded in half.”

Tommy grinned, leaning in. “Bet I could do better.”

You raised a brow. “You can’t even get outta bed without your back crackin’ like fireworks.”

He laughed, mouth full of popcorn, then pressed a quick kiss to your lips—warm and familiar. “True. But I’d still look good tryin’.”

You smiled as you sipped your soda. The air smelled like caramel and something fried—probably the funnel cake stand you passed earlier. You sat close enough to the arena that you could hear the thud of hooves, the pop of the announcer’s mic, the wave of cheers and groans rolling through the stands behind you. It felt electric.

Sarah was up soon. Her first barrel race. She’d been buzzing about it for weeks.

You leaned into Tommy’s side, and he brought his arm up to wrap around your shoulders, giving you an affectionate squeeze.

This was good. A sense of normalcy again.

Then, a familiar face caught your eye making his way up the bleachers. Joel had a bag of cotton candy in one hand and was weaving through the crowd with ease up the stairs. He reached your row and slid in beside you, a small smile already on his face.

“Just left Sarah with her trainer,” he said, a little out of breath. “She’s up in the next few.”

Then he leaned in to greet you, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek meant to be just a casual familial ‘hello’. But still, his stubble scraped your skin just enough to leave a spark, and he smelled like horses and leather and that subtle cologne he always wore. It hit somewhere low in your stomach, but you didn’t let it show. 

He greeted Tommy with a nod, and popped a puff of cotton candy into his mouth.

You made a face. “Ugh. How can you eat that stuff?”

Joel grinned around the sugar, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “It’s what makes me so sweet.”

You laughed, shaking your head and taking another sip of your soda. Tommy reached down for more popcorn, his arm brushing against your back as he dropped his hand from your shoulder, and Joel leaned forward to watch the next event being announced.

You sat between them, shoulders brushing, the sun warming your back, the crowd rising around you.

For a moment, it almost felt like things could settle. Like the three of you could fit into this new normal—comfortable, easy, like it was supposed to be this way all along. At least you hoped. 

The announcer’s voice crackled through the speakers, calling out Sarah’s name, and your heart gave a little skip.

“There she is,” Joel said, sitting forward with his elbows on his knees.

You leaned, too, eyes scanning the gate. Sure enough, Sarah was there behind the posts on her horse, nerves painted all over her posture even though she tried to play it cool. Even from here, you could just make out the furrow in her brow—the same quiet, determined look she got from her dad.

“She’s gonna kill it,” Tommy said beside you, resting his hand high on your thigh. He gave it a gentle squeeze, leaning into you as he said, “Ain’t no way she don’t win.”

You smiled, but it felt slightly delayed. Joel’s knee pressed against yours as he leaned close on your other side, eyes still locked on the arena.

“Hope she don’t cut that second barrel too close,” he muttered, mostly to himself, his voice low and rough. “She keeps doin’ that in practice. Gets excited and leans too early.”

“She’ll be fine,” you said, but you could hear the tension in your own voice. Joel’s hand had come to rest behind you on the bench, close to your lower back. Tommy’s fingers were still on your leg.

Sarah burst out of the gate, and the crowd roared. The three of you shot to your feet as her horse charged forward, hooves kicking up dust. She moved fast—tight, clean—rounding the first barrel like she’d done it a hundred times.

Joel was grinning ear to ear. “That’s my girl!”

His arm slid around your back, his other hand curled into a loose fist, pressed just beneath his mouth as if to contain the rush of emotion building in him. The hand at your back caught in the fabric of your blouse, fingers curling there, like he was tethering himself. Like he was bracing.

You tried to focus on Sarah, but all you could feel was the heat of his fingers, the way he clung to you, like your body was hyper aware of him.

You smiled, cheering, barely breathing, eyes fixed on her horse thundering toward the second turn. She hugged the barrel tight—too tight. A little wobble, a gasp from the crowd, but she corrected at the last second.

“She’s got it,” Tommy said beside you. His hand came to rest against the small of your back—right below where Joel’s hand was already bunched in your shirt. The two touches nearly met.

Neither of them moved.

Sarah charged toward the third barrel. Clean. Her final sprint down the home stretch brought the stands to their feet.

The three of you clapped, cheered, whooped, your heart racing, the electricity between the two men fizzing silently beside you. Tommy’s hand splayed wide across your backside. Joel barely moved, watching the timer screen flash across the display.

“That’s a good run,” he said, low and proud. His fingers loosened from your shirt, but he didn’t move his hand away.

“She’s gonna place,” Tommy agreed.

“She might win it,” you added, turning your head to look at them.

Both of them were already looking at you.

You smiled, flushed from the excitement—but something in the way they each looked at you made your skin feel hot for an entirely different reason.

Neither of them said anything, and for a second, the moment just… hung there. Their hands on you. The roar of the crowd fading into something muted.

Then the announcer called the next name, and the energy around you snapped back into motion.

Joel pulled his arm back to grab the cotton candy. Tommy slid his hand away like nothing had happened.

But your body remembered. And so did theirs.

After catching up with Sarah after her event, she was still buzzing with adrenaline. Practically bouncing.

“Did you see how fast he took that last curve?!” she gasped, practically skipping between you and Joel. “I was freaking out when the second barrel started to tip—did you see that?! Were you guys watching?!”

Joel was all pride and smiles as he walked beside her, teasing and nodding along, soaking in every word. She rambled on about her trainer’s horses, how they’d competed at Rodeo Austin for real, how she couldn’t wait to do it again. Eventually, she managed to talk the three of you into a round at the BB gun booth.

All four of you took a stance—Sarah coached dramatically, and you, predictably, failed miserably your first try. Joel and Tommy moved to the next round, and you watched from the side with Sarah, both of you hollering in support.

“Hit it! Hit it!” Sarah screeched at her dad. You let out a whoop as Tommy nailed the bullseye again and again.

When the game runner handed him a giant teddy bear, Tommy swung it into your arms with a triumphant grin before kissing you full on the mouth, unbothered by the crowd.

You laughed against his lips, hugging the bear tight, bouncing a little despite yourself.

“Uncle Tommy!” Sarah groaned, tugging at his arm until he pulled back from the kiss, grinning at her wide-eyed look. “Win me one too! Please?”

Tommy’s eyes sparkled as he looked at Joel, clearly amused that he was the one winning today. Joel rolled his eyes, but you caught the tightness in his jaw, the way his gaze lingered just a second too long as he glanced at your oversized teddy hitched on your hip.

“Go on, then,” Joel said, nodding toward the booth. “I’m gonna grab another beer.”

“I’ll join you,” you added quickly, glancing toward Tommy. But Sarah was already dragging him away, his hands back on the BB gun, ready for round two.

You and Joel peeled off quietly, heading toward the food and drink stands.

“Sarah was beggin’ for a funnel cake earlier,” Joel said, hands in his pockets. “Okay if we stop by one of the stands?”

“Yeah, ’course,” you murmured, falling into step beside him.

The walk was quiet—not awkward, exactly, but the air between you had thickened. Every step felt like it carried the weight of something unsaid.

You hadn’t talked much since the therapy session. Not really. Not about anything that mattered. The three of you had agreed to give it space—to breathe, to not immediately push into definitions or rules or boundaries.

But space didn’t feel like clarity. It felt like walking on eggshells. Like waiting for someone else to speak first, only no one ever did.

You weren’t sure what this was supposed to look like now. The idea of exploring an open relationship had been thrown out into the room like a life raft, but no one had said if they were actually ready to grab onto it. Not Joel. Not Tommy. Not even you.

You made it all the way to the counter before either of you spoke again.

“Make that two funnel cakes, please,” you said, just as Joel ordered Sarah’s.

He raised an eyebrow.

“What?” you laughed, lifting a shoulder. “Can’t help the cravings.” You reached for your wallet. “I’ll get Sarah’s too.”

Joel stopped you, his hand catching your wrist as you moved to your back pocket.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he muttered, already pulling out cash.

Then, quieter—low enough that the vendor wouldn’t hear, but just loud enough for you—he added, “Guess that sweet tooth runs in the genes.”

Your heart stumbled a beat. He didn’t look at you. Didn’t smirk, didn’t wink, but you could swear there was a twinkle in his eye when he turned back to you as you both stepped aside to wait for your order.

And just like that, the silence settled back in—only now it wasn’t neutral. It was charged.

When the funnel cakes came, you didn’t hesitate—tearing off a bite, still warm and soft, powdered sugar sticking to your lips.

You sighed in delight. “Oh my God.”

Joel was watching you when you looked up. That slight smirk on his face.

“What?” you asked, mouth full.

“You got a little somethin’,” he said, gesturing vaguely near his own mouth.

You licked your lips automatically, tongue sweeping the corner.

“Nope,” he murmured, chuckling. “Still there.”

Before you could try again, his hand reached out. Fingers warm and rough as they curled under your chin. His thumb dragged gently across your upper lip, brushing away the sugar with a slow swipe.

You froze—your breath caught somewhere in your throat as your eyes searched his face. The lights from the festival sparkled in his eyes, and behind him the sky had deepened into a wash of orange and violet.

Then his gaze dropped to your mouth, and he moved.

His lips brushed yours—soft, hesitant—like he wasn’t sure if this counted as crossing a line, or if the line had disappeared altogether. But he didn’t pull back right away. Instead, he paused there, the warmth of his breath ghosting against your mouth, and for a second neither of you moved. 

You stood still in that sliver of space where touch becomes choice, where you could pretend it hadn’t happened yet. But then his mouth pressed into yours fully, slowly, like he was tasting something he already knew. It wasn’t hungry. It wasn’t rushed. It was deliberate, drawn out and gentle. 

His hand stayed at your chin, his thumb pinching just barely as if to steady you, and your lips parted instinctively beneath his. You felt the sigh in his chest more than you heard it, like something deep inside him had let go the second your mouths met. 

Your hands stayed at your sides, fist clenched around the paper tray still holding your funnel cake, the other hugging the teddy bear to your side, your heart pounding so hard you could feel it in your throat. It wasn’t a kiss born from adrenaline or jealousy—it wasn’t the kind of kiss that begged for permission. It simply was. 

When he pulled back, it wasn’t abrupt. It was slow, like he didn’t really want to stop, but knew he had to. His lips hovered a moment longer—just close enough that you could still feel the heat of him—and then he stepped back half a breath. You didn’t dare move. Couldn’t. You stood there staring at him, your lungs burning like you’d been holding your breath the entire time. Joel’s eyes dropped to your mouth again, and then, with a subtle flick of his tongue, he licked the last trace of powdered sugar from his bottom lip. The gesture was unthinking, automatic, but the sheer sight of it landed somewhere low and electric in your stomach, like a match being struck.

And then the world came rushing back in.

The noise of the fairgrounds—the buzz of voices, the bark of game operators, the soft whir of rides—returned all at once, like someone had turned the volume back up. You swallowed hard and looked away, trying to force air into your lungs, trying to stop the trembling in your fingers. Joel didn’t say anything. He just nodded once, almost to himself, and turned to start walking back toward the game booth. You followed beside him, the heat still high in your cheeks, your steps too careful, like if you moved too fast you might lose your balance.

You glanced up at him once, just to see if he was as composed as he acted, but the faint pink flush at the tips of his ears gave him away.

“Dad!”

Sarah’s voice snapped your head up. She was running toward you, a giant stuffed horse clutched in her arms, nearly half her size. She was beaming. “Can I go find Claire and Maddie again? They’re headed to the ferris wheel!”

Joel handed her the funnel cake without hesitation, “Yeah, go on, just stay where we can see you.”

“Thanks!” she chirped, already spinning away with her prize in tow, the funnel cake tipping dangerously as she ran off.

But your eyes weren’t on her.

They were on Tommy, just catching up to you—beer in one hand, the other stuffed in his front pocket, a smile on his face as he watched her go. When his eyes found yours, they flicked to Joel beside you, and something in his expression changed. Not angry, not suspicious… but aware. Like he was conscious of some shift between the two of you.

You tried to will the pink from your cheeks, steady the pulse in your throat as you stepped toward him and offered your funnel cake like nothing had happened.

“That kid had me goin’ three more rounds to get her that prize,” Tommy chuckled, clearly trying to break whatever tension had settled back between the three of you as he tore off a piece and popped it in his mouth.

Joel let out a quiet laugh, eyes following in the direction Sarah had run off. “Better go catch up with her before I lose ’er.”

Tommy nodded, then glanced at you. “Think we’ll call it a night after this. She’ll be wired for another hour and then crash hard.”

You smiled, grateful for the exit.

As Joel nodded and began to step away, Tommy called after him casually, “Hey—when you drop her off, mind swingin’ by the house? Think I left that box of tools in your truck bed last week.”

Joel glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah. Sure.” his eyes landed on you for the briefest moment, “See ya in a bit then,”

Tommy gave him a two-finger wave, then turned his attention back to you, the last bite of funnel cake pinched between his fingers, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as the two of you walked out of the fair.

The drive home wasn’t long, but it felt like it stretched forever.

Tommy’s hand had been on your thigh from the moment he slid into the driver’s seat—steady at first, but now, it was creeping higher with every turn he made. His fingers flexed just at the top of your leg, the pad of his thumb brushing over your jeans in slow, distracting strokes.

“Tommy,” you said, a quiet breath more than a word.

“Yeah?” His voice was low, too casual for the way his fingers were moving now.

“You’re bein’ handsy.”

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, smirking. “Yeah, well. You’re lettin’ me.”

This wasn’t like him.

Yes, Tommy was affectionate—always had been. Touching your lower back as you passed through a crowd, brushing his lips over your shoulder while you stood at the sink, nudging your knee under the table just to remind you he was there.

But his gestures had never been… naughty.

Never anything that lit a fuse under your skin like the way his hand was gripping your thigh now. Never anything that made your breath stutter in your chest just from the press of his fingers curling possessively around your skin.

He was usually more careful with you. Gentle.

Tommy was the kind of man who waited until you were both tucked under the covers, warm and safe, soft and sleepy, before climbing over you with a smile and a kiss to your neck. The kind of man who made you smile first, made sure the world had quieted before he pulled you under.

You turned your head, looking at him from the passenger seat. He was focused on the road, jaw tight, eyes hard on the curve of the pavement as he turned into the neighborhood. But there was a spark there, flashing hot and alive beneath his usual easy exterior.

Your gaze slid down as he shifted in his seat, and your eyes caught on the undeniable shape in his jeans.

Heat bloomed in your face. Your chest. Lower.

The tight bulge in his lap pulsed like a secret between you, and it made your thighs press together involuntarily. But it wasn’t just the fact that he was aroused—it was that he wasn’t hiding it. That he was feeling you up in the front seat of the truck, on your quiet neighborhood street, away from the safety of the four walls of your bedroom.

Tommy, who usually waited until the house was dark and the doors were locked. Who kissed you slowly, slid his hands under your shirt and whispered “you okay?” even after years of being together.

He just slid his hand between your legs and gripped your inner thigh like he’d been thinking about it all night.

It sent heat rolling through you, sharp and dizzying. Not just from the touch, but from the awareness of how out of place it was. How unlike him it was to let go like this, to need like this, especially outside the safety of home.

And God help you—you liked it.

You pressed your legs together, your breath catching in your throat, trying to remember how to sit still while every nerve in your body screamed at you to climb into his lap and ride him right there in the middle of the road.

He felt your squirming as he pulled into the driveway, the tires crunching softly over gravel. The second the truck shifted into park and the headlights clicked off, the cab was swallowed in quiet shadow, only the streetlamp catching the edge of his jaw.

He turned toward you, that smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth—the kind that made your stomach flip. His hand slid from your thigh to the top of your seat, arm stretched across the backrest, his gaze drinking you in from the other side of the bench.

“C’mere,” he said, low and smooth, nodding for you to slide over.

You bit your lip, heart thudding, and obeyed without a word—scooting across the cracked leather until your thigh brushed his.

His hand dropped from the headrest to cradle the back of your neck, warm and firm. The other left the steering wheel, finding your cheek, fingers spreading across your jaw like he needed to anchor you in place.

And then he kissed you.

Not the sweet, half-thought kisses he’d given you throughout the day. Not careful, not playful. This was deep. Needy. Starving. Like he’d been holding it back for too long and didn’t care anymore if it showed.

His mouth slanted over yours again and again, open and hot, tongue sweeping past your lips like it belonged there. The soft sounds he made—those low, growling hums that rumbled in his throat—sent heat surging through your core.

Your breath stuttered as his grip on your neck tightened, his other hand trailing slowly down from your face to trace along your body until it was back at your denim clad thighs. He gripped hard, his palm sliding up along the seam of your jeans, squeezing just enough to make you shift in your seat.

When he tugged gently at the base of your hair, just at the nape, a moan slipped from your throat before you could catch it.

You broke the kiss just long enough to gasp, “Who are you and what have you done with my husband?”

He huffed a breath against your skin, already moving to your neck, kissing a line down the column of your throat. His mouth was open, his tongue slow, dragging heat behind every press of his lips, and then—teeth. A soft bite that made your body jolt.

“Wanted to get my hands on you all day,” he muttered between kisses, voice muffled against your skin. “Lookin’ so pretty,”

You whimpered, nails curling into the fabric of his shirt as he worked lower, pushing your neckline aside with one hand just to mouth at the new skin he found there.

You were panting now, flushed all over, your thighs pressing together as he kissed, bit, sucked like he was trying to brand you.

“Tommy,” you breathed, completely undone, and when he looked back up at you—lips swollen, eyes dark—you barely recognized the hunger in his face.

“Get your ass inside,” he rasped. “Now.”

You climbed out the passenger door, giddy like a teenager all over again, your skin still tingling from his hands and mouth and voice. As you made your way up the walk, Tommy’s hand came down in a playful smack against your rear, making you squeal and laugh over your shoulder at him.

He didn’t smile—not fully. His eyes were too dark, too focused. But the edge of his mouth twitched like he was barely holding himself together.

By the time you reached the door, his chest was already at your back, his arms snaking around you, mouth grazing your ear. “You drive me crazy, baby… you know that?” he murmured, voice low and breath hot.

You fumbled the keys, giggling as he pressed closer. “You’re the one who couldn’t keep your hands to himself.”

“And you didn’t stop me,” he whispered, nuzzling your jaw. “Didn’t want to, did you?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to.

The door clicked open and the second you were inside, his hands were on you again—spinning you around, backing you up against the wall just inside the entry. His mouth crashed into yours, deeper this time, slower but no less desperate. His hands slid up your sides, over your waist, thumbs hooking into your belt loops to keep you flush against him.

He kissed you like he hadn’t touched you in weeks. Like he’d been starving for you.

By the time you pulled apart for air, you were both breathless and a little dizzy.

“Upstairs,” he murmured, voice ragged, his hands slipping down to grab yours, guiding you behind him.

At the top, he didn’t even pause—just pulled you straight into the bedroom and kicked the door shut behind you with one solid thud. And then his hands were back on your hips, his mouth on your throat, and whatever this was—it wasn’t slowing down anytime soon.

Your back hit the bedroom wall with a soft thump, and Tommy barely gave you time to catch your breath before his mouth was on you again, pressing into the curve of your neck, open and hot, his hands splayed across your hips like he couldn’t keep his hands still.

You gasped as he nipped at the base of your throat, your hands tangling in his shirt, gripping the fabric tight. He groaned softly against your skin, one hand sliding up under your top, rough fingers skimming over your ribs like he needed to feel all of you.

“Tommy—” you breathed, but it came out more like a sigh.

He pulled back just far enough to look at you, his chest rising and falling hard, eyes dark and locked onto yours. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

You shook your head before the words even formed. “Don’t.”

That was all he needed.

He tugged your shirt up, slow but sure, breaking contact just long enough to pull it over your head and toss it to the floor. His eyes dropped, sweeping over your bare skin like it physically pained him to look away. One of his hands slid behind you and unclasped your bra in a smooth motion, and let it slide from your shoulders. His hands were reverent, warm and wide as they came up to cup you, thumbs brushing over your nipples, and the groan that left him was raw, almost pained.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he said, like a thought spoken out loud.

You reached for the hem of his shirt, dragging it up over his stomach and chest. He helped you the rest of the way, yanking it over his head and tossing it behind him. His mouth was back on you before you could get a good look, lips trailing heat down your collarbone, your sternum, the swell of your breast. He kissed your flesh until you were arching into him, fingers tangling in his hair.

His hands moved to the button of your jeans next, and you gasped when he popped it open and dragged the zipper down, his knuckles grazing the skin just below your belly. You toed off your shoes, the soft thud of them hitting the carpet barely registering over the pounding in your ears. His hands slid to your waist, and he dropped to his knees, pulling your jeans down inch by inch, kissing the skin he uncovered like it was a map he already knew by heart.

By the time he got your jeans off, his mouth never left your skin, kissing along your hip bone, his breath hot and shaky. His hands slid up your thighs, slow and worshipful—until they weren’t. Until they were gripping.

His fingers dug into your flesh, pulling you closer as he moved up to kiss your stomach, chest, throat—claiming every inch like it was his and his alone. You were breathless by the time he kissed you again, and when he pushed you back onto the bed, you went willingly, your back sinking into the sheets, arms stretching above your head.

He hovered over you, eyes tracing every inch of your face. And then something flickered there. Something sharp.

“You let him touch you like this?” he asked, voice low but tight, as his hand moved between your legs, cupping you over your panties. The lace was already damp beneath his fingers, your arousal bleeding through the fabric. He dragged a finger along the center, slow and deliberate, and you felt the heat bloom deeper as the pressure built.

Your breath caught. “Tommy—”

“Just tell me,” he murmured, kissing your jaw, then your throat. “Did he touch you like this?” He pressed the heel of his palm in, slow but firm, dragging a moan from your lips even as your brows pulled together.

“Stop,” you breathed, trying to push up on your elbows. “It doesn’t matter.”

But he shook his head, his hand sliding your underwear down your thighs, slow and rough all at once. “It does to me.”

He kissed you again—deeper this time, almost bruising until his hands guided you to roll over, his touch less gentle now, more insistent. He pulled your hips up until you were on your knees, chest pressed into the bed, your face turned toward the pillows. You barely had time to catch your breath before you felt him—hot and hard, the blunt weight of his cock pressing against you.

You arched back into it instinctively, needing him to forget everything else, to just feel this—feel you.

“You’re mine,” he breathed, pushing into you with one steady thrust that made you gasp, your fingers curling into the comforter. “Always been mine.”

You moaned, eyes shutting tightly as he moved inside you—rougher now, his rhythm firm, controlled, but not cruel. Just desperate. Like he had something to prove.

Every sound that left him was strained, thick with emotion—his hands spreading across your hips, his thumb trailing up your spine like he needed to feel every piece of you to believe this was real.

The sound of your moans and Tommy’s grunts filled the air, the sheets rubbing against your skin beneath you, it was almost loud enough to drown out the front door opening.

But then you heard his voice.

“Tommy?”

Your eyes flew open, breath catching in your throat. That was Joel’s voice coming from downstairs. Your mind scrambled to remember why the hell he was here. And then you remembered Tommy’s request. Some stupid tool box he needed.

Tommy stilled for half a second—just long enough for your heart to lurch—before he started moving again, slower this time, deeper. Like he was doubling down.

You grunted, biting your lip to swallow the moan that threatened to give you away. Your hand scrambled for the edge of the sheets, something to grip, something to hold you to earth.

Your blood ran hot and cold all at once.

Joel’s voice came again—closer. “You home?”

“We’re up here,” Tommy called back, voice completely steady.

No.

Your entire body tensed under him, your head whipping to the side, eyes locked on the closed bedroom door.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you hissed, panicked, but he only dropped more of his weight onto you, one hand pressing flat between your shoulder blades, the other tightening around your hip. You were locked in place beneath him, your breath coming fast.

“Shh, shh, shh,” Tommy cooed, his voice sweet but mocking as his hips kept moving, slow and steady and deep. “Ain’t gonna stop now.”

There was a creak on the stairs.

Your heart slammed into your throat.

“Tommy,” you hissed again, but it came out half-broken, your voice catching in your chest.

And then—

The door swung open.

“Jesus—” Joel flinched hard, turning away with a grunt and lifting a hand to cover his eyes. “What the hell, man!?”

Tommy didn’t stop.

His grip on you tightened, his thrusts slowing just a hair—but only to lean down, breath hot against your ear as he rasped, “That what you wanted, huh? Him seein’ you like this?”

You whimpered, caught between mortification and a heat that made your knees weak.

“Tommy—please—” you gasped, struggling half-heartedly beneath him.

But he was gone.

“Think you can just fuck my wife whenever you want?” Tommy growled, looking over at Joel now, chest heaving, voice thick with rage and something else—something darker. “Think you do it better?”

Joel turned slightly, eyes caught somewhere between fury and disbelief. “You’ve lost your goddamn mind—”

“Have I?” Tommy snapped, his voice low and dangerous as he fucked into you harder now, like he was trying to prove something with every movement. “’Cause she’s drippin’ all over my cock right now. You seein’ this?”

You let out a broken sound, face buried in the mattress. You wanted to crawl out of your skin—and yet the way Tommy was holding you, the filthy things coming out of his mouth, the heat between the three of you…

It was too much.

Joel’s mouth opened like he was about to say something else—but he didn’t.

He stared.

He stayed.

And your heart nearly exploded as Tommy chuckled low in his throat, thrusting deep and slow again like he wanted Joel to see it.

“That’s right,” Tommy said, never looking away. “Go on. Watch. See what it looks like when a man takes care of what’s his.”

“Call this takin’ care?” Joel said, voice low, sharp with something mean and taunting beneath the surface.

Your eyes flicked up, wide, and found his—and the heat there made your breath catch.

“Tell me, little brother,” Joel drawled, “you ever felt her come all over that dick of yours?”

Tommy’s movements faltered. Just for a second.

You felt it—his grip loosening slightly on your hips, his breath catching.

Your heart was in your throat, beating so hard it hurt.

Joel stepped forward, slow, measured. His eyes dragged over your body—not like it was new to him, but like he knew every inch of it already. Like he could trace it blind, by memory alone.

“Didn’t think so,” he murmured.

Then his gaze locked with yours.

“Should we show him, sweetheart?” he asked, and your stomach dropped clean through the mattress. “Show him what he’s been missin’?”

Your mouth parted, no sound coming out.

Joel tilted his head, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Think my pissy little brother needs some pointers?”

Tommy let out a rough breath behind you, a mix between a growl and a scoff, his hand sliding up your spine possessively.

“She’s my goddamn wife,” he snapped, but his voice wasn’t steady anymore.

Joel’s gaze flickered up, darkening, “Then fuckin’ act like it.”

The silence was deafening—so thick you could hear your own pulse in your ears.

Tommy’s hands flexed on your hips again. And then he thrust—hard. Deep. A sound ripped out of you that wasn’t quiet at all.

And Joel’s expression changed. Softer. Almost smug. Almost… proud.

“She sure makes the prettiest sounds, don’t she?” he said, and he approached the bed. Your skin felt like it was on fire as Tommy stilled completely, but he was still hard inside you to your surprise.

“Turn her over,” Joel said steadily.

Tommy’s head snapped toward him. “Get the hell out.”

“You invited me in here, little brother.” Joel’s tone was exasperatingly calm. 

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Both men. In the room with you while you were naked and taking your husband’s cock.

Your heart pounded against your ribs, wild and uneven, like it was trying to warn you. Or maybe it was just overwhelmed.

You didn’t know where to look. Joel, standing there with that infuriating calm like this was just another Tuesday. Tommy, still inside you, bristling with fury, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead as he tried to process what was happening.

And you—trapped in the middle, hips pinned beneath the man you married, body still burning for the one you hadn’t stopped thinking about since that first night.

You should’ve felt humiliated. You did. But your skin still tingled everywhere Joel’s eyes touched.

Tommy was quick to snap at his brother, “And now I want you out.”

Joel didn’t flinch. “And what do you want, sweetheart?” he asked, gaze cutting to you, his head tilted slightly as his eyes took in the flushed features of your face.

You exhaled slowly, your lungs feeling like they’d deflated. Your mouth was dry, but you licked your lips anyway, then turned your face to look back at Tommy, biting down gently on the inside of your cheek.

Tommy’s face twisted in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

“Just…” you breathed, heart pounding in your throat, “let’s just see. It could be fun.” You swallowed. “We haven’t made any rules yet.”

Tommy looked between the two of you—his jaw tight, his eyes wide, stunned. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face before he finally pulled out of you, breath ragged. “Alright. Turn over.”

You moved quickly, your skin flushed and glowing, body still trembling as you flipped onto your back. The sheets were warm under you, your thighs still slick, still open.

Behind you, you heard the unmistakable rustle of clothes—the metal clink of a belt, the soft drag of a zipper—and then Joel was there.

The heat of him hit you first. He was so warm, and as he stepped to the side of the bed, the mattress dipped slightly with his weight.

“This is so fuckin’ weird,” Tommy muttered, shaking his head as he moved to kneel between your legs again.

You sat up a little, cupping his face, dragging your hand down the center of his chest, his stomach. “I love you,” you whispered, searching his eyes. “If you don’t want this, we stop. Say the word.”

Tommy stared down at you for a long second. His lips pressed together, pulled inward like he was thinking too hard. His eyes flicked to Joel, then back to you.

He sighed, jaw clenching. “Just this once. And if it doesn’t work—”

“Never again,” you finished softly, nodding.

Only then did you glance up at Joel.

He nodded once, slow and assured, his hand already moving to the bulge in his briefs. Your eyes followed—broad chest, tan skin, strong forearms—and you couldn’t help yourself. You leaned back, just slightly, hand drifting up to cup him through the fabric. Joel exhaled, low and rough, eyes fluttering shut as your palm rubbed against him.

“Show him,” you said softly.

His eyes opened again, sharper now, a slow smirk curling at the corner of his mouth.

“Not sure he deserves it after all that attitude,” Joel muttered, voice teasing but laced with heat.

“Joel—” you warned.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, rolling his eyes—but his voice was dark now, thicker. “But then it’s my turn.”

You watched him hook his thumbs in the waistband of his briefs, pushing them down with one slow motion that revealed all of him—hard, heavy, already flushed. Your breath caught at the sight, heat flooding through you like a second pulse.

He fisted himself gently, watching you, waiting.

Above you, Tommy shifted. You turned to look at him and his mouth was drawn tight, eyes hard with conflict. But he didn’t pull away. Instead, he moved closer, settling between your legs again, hands sliding up your thighs.

You stared up at him, unsure if he’d really go through with it. But then he lined himself up, his cock dragging through your folds, and you gasped at the contact.

He sighed low, almost like relief, as he sank into you with one long, slow push. The weight of him settling into your hips, the feeling of him filling you again—it made your head fall back, your mouth falling open.

The tension in the room turned molten.

Tommy’s hands slid to your thighs, gripping tight like he needed something to hold on to. His eyes flicked up to Joel, who was still settled at your side, close enough now that you could feel his presence, warm and electric.

You barely registered Joel moving until you felt his hand close around your wrist. Firm. Certain. He guided your hand to his cock—thick and hot and heavy—and curled your fingers around him like he was placing something sacred into your palm.

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t hesitate.

You wrapped your lips around the head, soft and swollen and already leaking, and sucked—slow, reverent, like you’d been dreaming of this since the last time. And you had been.

Joel hissed through his teeth, his hand threading through your hair as you hollowed your cheeks and pulled him deeper. “Good girl,” he muttered. Your entire body clenched at the praise.

Tommy groaned above you, building up his thrusts, erratic and messy as you pulsed around him.

“Slow down,” Joel said, calm, instructive. “Long, even strokes. Deep.”

Tommy cursed under his breath but obeyed, grinding into you with a slower, heavier rhythm that made your whole body arch forward, your mouth taking Joel deeper.

“Good,” Joel murmured. “Now thumb her clit.”

You whimpered around his cock, the sound thick and broken. Tommy’s thumb slid over your swollen clit in soft, careful circles, and your whole body clenched around him.

“She’s grippin’ the hell outta me,” Tommy breathed. “Fuck.”

Joel’s voice was right above you now, rough but steady. “Spit on it.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Spit on her clit. She likes it messier.”

You moaned, mouth full of Joel, your thighs twitching.

Tommy grunted again, but when you felt the warm wet hit of spit on your skin, you moaned loudly, hips bucking. His thumb slid through the slickness building there, the glide smoother, filthier, perfect.

“That’s it,” Joel growled. “Keep her right there. Thumb her just like that. Don’t stop. Her throat is squeezin’ me so good when you do that.”

You couldn’t breathe. Your body was clenching up, something coiling in your spine and hips as he kept up the pace. Joel’s cock dragged across your tongue, thick and pulsing, while Tommy thrust into you—slower now, more precise, but still not quite enough.

You loved Tommy’s rhythm—the care in it, the way he was doing everything to get you there, the way he wanted to get you there. But your orgasm wasn’t building the same way. It was harder to catch, harder to ride. Joel’s cock had a weight, a stretch that reached something deeper in you—something that made your body respond instantly. With Tommy, it took more. He was only slightly smaller, narrower, not lacking, just… different.

Still good. Still yours. But different.

“She’s close,” Joel said, voice ragged now, eyes locked on your face. “I can feel it.”

Tommy groaned, cock twitching inside you as you clenched down hard. “Jesus, she’s—fuck, she’s so tight.”

“You wanna come for Tommy, sweet girl?” Joel asked, still beside you on bed, one hand fisted in your hair where it spilled across the bedspread, thumb brushing softly over your cheek.

Your eyes fluttered open to meet his—and in the same breath, Joel guided his cock back between your lips, sliding into your mouth with a slow, deliberate push that made your throat stretch and burn in the best way.

You gagged softly, the movement rippling through your body. Tommy moaned at the sudden convulsion of your walls around him, his one hand gripping your hip so hard it would leave bruises. The other kept circling your clit with his thumb, your eyes warring between rolling back and trying to focus on Joel. 

“Fuck—she just—goddamn,” Tommy breathed, his hips faltering for half a second before finding that rhythm again. Deep, slow strokes that had your whole body arching beneath him.

Joel pulled back with a wet pop, a string of spit and precum connecting your lips to the flushed tip of his cock. You were gasping for breath, whimpering and moaning as he leaned down close, hovering just over your face, thumb wiping at your mouth like it was his.

You were hovering now, your spine tingling with the build up. So close. But not there yet. Your body wanted more.

And Joel knew.

Of course he knew.

“Tommy’s got you so full, huh?” Joel murmured, voice like gravel soaked in honey in your ear, low enough that only you could hear. “Still not enough to make you come, greedy girl?”

His breath brushed the shell of your ear, and your whole body twitched.

You couldn’t answer—not with words. But your eyes found his, wide and pleading, glassy with need. You looked up at him from where your head rested on the sheets, Joel crouched beside you now, shadowing over your face like he could read everything you couldn’t say aloud.

And he could. He always could.

Your chest rose with a broken breath as your mouth parted—no sound, just air. One of his hands stayed tangled in your hair, grounding you. The other drifted down, palm dragging with reverence over your chest, and when it reached your breast, his touch went still.

He watched you as if testing the waters. The second your back arched into his palm, just a little, the faintest tremble of pleading… he smirked.

“There she is,” he murmured, his thumb brushing your nipple slowly and deliberately before twisting and palming, kneading your flesh. Your thighs jerked and your eyes fluttered closed, breath stalling in your throat.

Joel leaned in, voice like silk soaked in heat.

“Gonna have to beg him for it,” he murmured, this time loud enough for his brother to hear, dragging his thumb over you again as your back arched once more. “Go on. Show him how sweet you sound when you’re right at the edge.”

He kissed your temple, lips warm and just barely there before sitting up again.

“Show him what you gave me.”

Your breath was a broken thing, chest heaving, your legs locked around Tommy’s waist as his cock filled you over and over again, his thumb grinding against your clit with every thrust. You could barely speak—but you tried.

“Please,” you whispered, blinking up at Tommy. “Please don’t stop.”

His eyes were wide, blown out, sweat dripping from his brow, “Fuck,” he muttered. “Say it again.”

“Please, Tommy,” you gasped, fingers gripping his arms. “Please let me come—need it—need it so bad.”

Joel’s hand moved from your hair to stroke slowly over his cock at the edge of the bed, gaze flicking between your face and Tommy’s. “There it is,” he murmured. “You hear that? That’s yours, little brother. Make her fuckin’ come on your cock.”

Tommy’s rhythm picked up, driving into you with slow, hard strokes that hit deep, his thumb never stopping the delicious circles over your clit just like Joel had told him.

Your head fell back. Your thighs shook. Your whole body started to come apart.

As your jaw fell open, Joel took your mouth again—his cock thick and slick as it pressed past your lips, filling your mouth with one steady thrust. You welcomed it greedily, your moan muffled and broken, your tongue flattening beneath the weight of him.

Your back arched off the bed, body seizing with pleasure as your orgasm hit like a tidal wave—white-hot, all-consuming. Joel’s hand was back in your hair, holding you down, guiding your mouth as your throat fluttered around him, his cock pressing deeper with every pulse. The other squeezed and twisted your breast as you rode your high.

Tommy groaned loudly above you, his voice rough, desperate, like he’d just been torn open.

“Holy fucking shit,” he gasped, and his hips jerked once, twice—then stilled.

You felt it. The heat of him spilling into you, thick and heavy, your cunt already so wet and wrecked it only made you twitch harder around him. His breath stuttered out in harsh bursts, body shuddering as he emptied himself deep inside you.

“That’s it,” Joel growled. “That’s a good girl, baby.”

He fucked your mouth with slow, controlled strokes—gentle now, reverent—before finally pulling out, letting you fall back against the bed with a gasp, your chest heaving as your climax still rippled through your body.

Your vision blurred at the edges, nerves lit up like static. You barely felt Tommy at first—his hands adjusting on your hips, his breathing shaky.

Then, after a long, weighted pause, Tommy slowly eased back, slipping out of you with a wet drag that made your entire body jolt. You gasped softly at the loss, walls still fluttering from your orgasm, sensitive and aching.

The room went quiet again, thick and buzzing under the surface. You could hear Tommy’s breathing above you, could feel the shift in his body as he sat back on his heels, one hand sliding down your thigh as if to steady himself. He moved slowly to sit against the headboard, breathing heavily.

Your pulse thrummed at your neck, loud in your ears. You turned your head toward him, your skin flushed, lips swollen, heart racing. Tommy’s eyes found yours—dark, uncertain, something different behind them. Not anger or sadness, but something new and raw.

“Tommy,” you whispered, voice low, hoarse. You swallowed. “Can he…?”

You hesitated, heat prickling across your cheeks. You weren’t even sure what words you were looking for. You just knew what you needed.

“Can Joel… please?”

Tommy’s eyes scanned your face, then dropped to where your thighs were still parted, to the slick between them, to the tremble in your breath. He took a slow inhale, like he was weighing the cost of the question. Then he nodded. “Go on then. Show me what’s worth all this trouble.” You could swear there was a twitch at the corner of his mouth, a faint crinkle at the edge of his eyes. Not quite a smile. Maybe a dare.

Joel was already moving.

His hands found your body—confident, warm, rough as ever—as he pulled you up onto your knees and flushed your back against his chest. His arms wrapped around you easily, like they belonged there. Like he knew this body like the back of his hand.

You inhaled sharply at the feel of him behind you—solid muscle, the heavy press of his cock nudging against your lower back. He leaned in, mouth brushing your ear. His voice was low, rich, and dripping with something that made your skin tighten.

“Hope you’re payin’ attention, little brother,” Joel murmured, his grip tightening on your waist. “Gonna show you just how sweet she sounds when she gets what she needs.”

You watched Tommy’s jaw clench, and you muttered a short warning to Joel, “Stop,” 

Joel ignored you and his hand slipped down between your legs, fingers gliding through the mess Tommy left behind, gathering it in his fingers and spreading it through your puffy center, making your thighs shake.

“Jesus,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Still so wet.”

He let his fingers trail back up to your hip, palm splaying across your stomach as he held you there—against him, for him, like he was staking his claim right in front of Tommy.

Then he shifted. You felt the blunt head of his cock press against your entrance, thick and already slick from your mouth. Your breath caught.

“Hold on to me,” Joel murmured. His other hand slid up, cupping one of your breasts, his mouth brushing just behind your ear as your arms held tightly to his splayed over your torso.

And then he pushed in—slow, deep, deliberate.

Your body seized the moment he started to push in. The stretch was immediate—thicker, deeper, unforgiving. Your legs trembled, a broken moan slipping from your throat before you could stop it. It felt like your body forgot how to breathe, how to think—every nerve lit up as he filled you, inch by inch, until you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began.

Pressure bloomed deep in your core, sharp and aching, and still he kept going, his cock dragging against every hypersensitive spot until your thighs were shaking, your nails biting into his arm.

You gasped—"Joel!" sharp and high—and your head fell back against his shoulder like you couldn’t hold it up anymore. Your mouth parted, but no words came out. Just sound. Just a helpless, wrecked whimper that made Joel groan behind you.

Joel gritted his teeth, voice strained through a groan. “Fuck. Always so tight for me, baby. Takin’ me so good. Feels like he barely even touched you."

“Fuck off,” Tommy snapped from somewhere below you, voice rough, and you didn’t need to look to know he was watching—his breath hitched, uneven.

Joel noticed, too.

“My little brother’s gettin’ all worked up again,” he rasped, his cock sliding deeper, arms tightening around you. “Look at him, baby. Watchin’ you take my cock like this.”

You lifted your head just enough to find Tommy’s face—jaw locked, hand slowly fisting his already hardening cock as he sat back against the headboard, his chest rising and falling in shallow bursts.

Joel’s hand slid back between your legs, fingers circling your clit with unrelenting precision as he fucked you slow and deep.

“Talk to her, Tommy,” Joel said roughly.

Tommy shook his head, jaw clenched. “I—I don’t—”

“C’mon,” Joel grunted, thrusting into you harder, making you cry out. “You don’t want me talkin’ all this shit? Huh? Even if it makes her this wet—” his fingers slid lower, gathering slick, “—thinkin’ of us fightin’ over this sweet, perfect pussy?”

He fucked up into you hard as he growled, and it made you gasp in pleasure.

“Then talk, dammit.”

Tommy’s breath stuttered. You looked at him—desperate and open, mouth parted. You watched his throat bob as he tried to swallow whatever pride or hesitation was left.

Then, finally, his voice came low, rough, uncertain.

“You like this, baby?” he rasped, the words strange in his mouth but soaked in truth as he leaned forward, looking up at you. “Like me watchin’ while he fucks you?”

You moaned, the sound unholy and obscene as your body twitched. You tried to nod while Joel’s cock dragged deep again, slow and relentless, the stretch still too much, still perfect. 

“Oh, she fuckin’ loves it,” Joel growled in your ear. His palm slid up your chest, fingers curling over the other breast as he kept your back flush to him. “That look on her face? All fucked-out and needy.”

Tommy let out a shuddering breath. His eyes never left yours.

“Look at you,” he said, a little bolder now. “You’re so pretty like this. Letting us ruin you.”

Your breath hitched. Your thighs were shaking again, a whimper escaping as Joel’s fingers found your clit once more, slick and swollen. He rubbed you just right—tight, insistent circles that made your eyes roll back.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Joel grunted. “You close again, baby? I can feel it. You’re squeezin’ me so tight.”

Tommy leaned forward, looking up at you as he reached for your trembling legs, rubbing your skin and kneading it in his hands as his cock twitched in his hand, “That’s it, sweetheart. Come for us. Show us how much you love bein’ ours.”

That did it.

Your body clenched hard, a cry ripping from your throat as the orgasm slammed into you—fierce, fast, and overwhelming. You trembled violently, hips jerking, mouth open but wordless as you came again, harder this time, unraveling between them.

You were still shaking when your body started to shift—Joel's cock still buried deep, grinding against your overstimulated walls with every slow, hungry thrust. You reached forward, chest dropping toward the bed, bracing yourself on your hands as you whimpered through the aftershocks.

But you weren’t done. Not even close.

“Tommy,” you gasped, voice hoarse and half-broken. “Let me—please, let me touch you. Wanna make you come again.”

You reached for him blindly, your hand finding his thigh as he knelt close, cock hard again in his grip.

He looked stunned, blinking at you like he couldn’t believe it. “Jesus, baby,” he muttered, and he looked up at Joel, “How the hell are you still goin’ after that? The way she gripped me when--”

Joel gave a low, breathless laugh behind you, his thrusts never faltering. “Not my first time, remember?”

He leaned forward over your back, his voice rough and possessive in your ear.

“She gets like this,” Joel said, fucking into you harder now, making your arms tremble. “Once you open her up, she just needs. Can’t help herself, can you, baby?”

You moaned, loud and desperate, your hand finally wrapping around Tommy’s cock again, bringing it into your mouth.

Your husband groaned, hips twitching toward your touch. “Fuckin’ insatiable,” he breathed. “You’re gonna kill me, sweetheart.”

Joel grinned, lips brushing your shoulder before pulling back to straighten, gripping your hips. “She’s gonna milk us dry.”

You moaned at the filthy words, too far gone to be embarrassed, too full to care. You rocked between them, wrecked and desperate—Joel’s cock dragging deep inside you with each powerful thrust, your mouth stretched wide around Tommy’s length, tongue flattened along the underside.

Every time Joel thrusted forward, it shoved you farther onto Tommy’s cock. Your throat clenched, gagging slightly, and both men groaned—low and guttural at the dual sensation of your body constricting around them.

Your eyes watered, spit pooling at the corners of your lips as you tried to breathe around it, the slick sounds obscene in the best way.

Tommy’s hand came to your cheek, his thumb stroking gently along your jaw as he looked down at you. His face was tight with restraint, flushed and glassy-eyed, jaw twitching, “Look so pretty with a cock in her mouth, doesn’t she?”

Joel grunted behind you, slamming deep, making your body jolt forward. “Sure does,” he growled. “Takin’ us both so good, baby. Just like that.”

You whimpered, the only sound you could manage, body fluttering with overstimulation, throat spasming around Tommy’s cock as he hissed through his teeth.

Joel’s grip tightened, his thrusts getting faster, more desperate, and you could feel the wave starting to build again—relentless, all-consuming. You didn’t know how much more your body could take.

“Come on, baby,” Tommy groaned. “Fuck—your mouth feels so good, sweetheart. Just like that. Don’t stop.”

Joel leaned in, his voice thick with heat. “You gonna come again with your mouth full, baby? Think you can come for both of us this time?”

Your whole body responded—tightening instinctively, like those words alone triggered something deep inside. Joel’s hand slid beneath you, and you flinched with a soft gasp as his fingers found your clit again—soaked, swollen, aching from how close you already were.

It was too much. Too good. You couldn’t take it, and yet your body begged for more.

The touch was too light at first—then perfect. Circling. Pressing. Your spine arched, your thighs trembled, and your moan vibrated around Tommy’s cock, still heavy and hot on your tongue.

You could barely register where one of them ended and the other began—just pressure and stretch and friction and heat. Joel’s thrusts stayed deep and punishing, perfectly timed with the slow drag of his fingers.

Suddenly your whole body locked, muscles spasming as another orgasm tore through you—sharp and blinding, your vision whiting out as you clenched hard around Joel’s cock, milking him through every brutal thrust.

You moaned around Tommy’s length, the sound desperate and guttural, and that was all it took for either of them.

Joel cursed behind you—low, rough, wrecked. He thrust once, twice more, then buried himself as deep as he could go, spilling inside you with a broken growl. His hands were shaking where they gripped your hips, holding you there like he couldn’t let go.

The hot pulse of him filled you completely, thick and heavy, and the sensation only dragged your orgasm out longer, your legs trembling violently beneath you.

Tommy let out a choked moan above you, his hips stuttering as your throat fluttered around him. His hand cupped your cheek, and with one more shaky breath, he came—spilling into your mouth with a soft, desperate, “Fuck, baby.”

You took it all, swallowing around him as gently as you could, the muscles of your throat still spasming from Joel’s final, deep thrusts.

Then—finally—everything slowed.

Tommy pulled back with a groan, slumping onto the bed beside you with a heavy exhale, one arm flung over his face as he tried to catch his breath. Joel eased out of you from behind, and you whimpered at the emptiness, already missing the stretch of him, the weight. Your body felt boneless, dazed and trembling, as you rolled to your side and melted into the mattress beside Tommy.

Joel didn’t stay far. Within seconds, he collapsed on your other side with a low, satisfied grunt, still half-wrapped in heat and sweat. His arm slid beneath your head, pulling you gently against his chest until you were tucked in close, skin to skin, your cheek resting just below his collarbone.

You were fully tangled between them now—Joel’s leg brushing yours, Tommy’s chest warm against your back, his hand finding your thigh and resting there like a grounding weight.

The heat of three bodies lingered in the air—sticky and quiet and strangely comforting.

Tommy’s hand found your stomach and gave it a slow rub, and when you looked over at him—he was watching you, not angry, not brooding. Just… tired. And stunned.

You let out a laugh. A small, breathless one, but real.

Then another.

Your face tucked against Joel’s arm, shoulders shaking with laughter, and Joel chuckled too—low and lazy, like he couldn’t even muster the energy to be smug, “Troublemaker.”

Tommy let out a breathless huff, still holding you tight, and nuzzled into the curve of your neck. “I’m not sure I survived that,” he murmured, and then he started laughing too—open, surprised, stunned, “Feel like I blacked out halfway through,”

You turned your head toward him, smiling wide, and kissed the side of his mouth. “You were perfect.”

The three of you fell into an easy silence, wrapped up in sweat and warmth and the quiet hum of something unspoken—something new.

“Shit,” Joel muttered, his chest shaking from a chuckle, “Think we’re gonna need a bigger bed.”

And for the first time in a long time, the three of you were laughing together.

tag list: @alidiggory92 @pinkylouise @izzy698 @doblasftcisco @devotedlypaleluminary @elsplayground @puduvallee @victoriaholland @legoemma @leenieweenie12 @possiblyafangirl @alitaar @mads198-9 @emmaoc10 @auteurdelabre @the-last-twin-of-krypton @lilasskicker2 @levislegislation @flowercrowns-goodvibes

[player042]

IN THE NIGHT | kang dae-ho

pairing: kang dae-ho (player 388) x reader

summary: you find yourself drawn to dae-ho, and it’s becoming harder and harder to hide it, even from yourself; especially during the quiet nights when it’s just the two of you keeping guard.

warning: mutual doting, lovesick but stubborn reader, mention of squid game themes such a death and despair, other than that it’s just fluff, this is my first post so feel free to give me feedback if you’d like to read more, and now please enjoy 🥹💖

word count: 1.7k

Dae-ho had a laugh that made your chest ache. Big, bright, and unrestrained, it echoed through the cold dormitory like sunlight breaking through cracks in a prison wall. It was absurd, really, how easily it pulled at the corners of your lips, how it made your heart feel too big for your ribcage.

He was an exception; you didn't know why, but he was. He was the opposite of death. Of fear. Of blood and betrayal. Quite the opposite of everything that reminded you of this hellish place. He didn't belong here. And you were confident, that even a blind person would see that for he was warmth and light, he radiated it, throughout each day you survived. You didn't know how he managed it, how he could smile, laugh, and joke even in the face of the horrors around you. It wasn't fake; you'd learned to recognize false optimism in this place, no, Dae-ho's joy was real, a stubborn defiance against the darkness threatening to swallow you all whole.

You sat across the room, waiting for the guards to let you out to the bathrooms once the other group returned. Your back rested against the wall as you watched him animatedly recount some ridiculous story from his military days to Jung-bae, with other players listening in. Mentally, you were already preparing for the night ahead, after all, you and Dae-ho were tasked with keeping watch together, a plan Gi-hun had devised in case any of the other players decided to attack. The group had agreed to take turns, so it was nothing out of the ordinary.

And yet, it was.

You and Dae-ho, all alone while the world slept? Why did the thought of that suddenly make you nervous?

Dae-ho's hands moved in exaggerated gestures, his grin wide enough to rival the cheshire cat's. Even in this pit of despair, his energy was magnetic, drawing people in like moths to a flame. And you weren't immune to it, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise.

His eyes caught yours mid-laugh, and for a split second, the world seemed to freeze. His smile softened, his gaze lingering on you just a little longer than it should have. Your stomach flipped, a sudden rush of butterflies that made you look away, feigning disinterest even as your pulse quickened.

You weren't used to this feeling, this fluttering in your chest, this heat that rose to your cheeks every time he said your name or brushed against you in passing. It was ridiculous. You weren't the kind of person who got swept up in someone else's orbit. You were guarded, careful, a fortress built from years of self-preservation. But Dae-ho... he was different. He didn't just knock on the gates, he scaled the walls with that infuriating smirk of his.

It wasn't just his smile or his laugh that drew you in. It was the way he saw people, not just as competitors or threats, but as humans. The way he helped were he could, even though it put himself at risk. The way he noticed when someone was on the verge of breaking and managed to say just the right thing to pull them back from the edge. The way he noticed you.

You hated how easily he could read you. You prided yourself on being unreadable, untouchable, but with Dae-ho, it was like he saw straight through every mask you wore. He never called you out on it, never pressed, but the way his gaze softened when you spoke or the way he offered you his rations without a word told you everything you needed to know.

It terrified you.

And yet, here you were, stealing glances like a lovesick teenager, your mind betraying you with thoughts of how his golden skin glowed under the dim lights, how his broad shoulders looked like they could carry the weight of the world, how his laugh felt like a secret you wanted to hoard, to keep for yourself.

He was the sunshine to your shadows, the golden retriever to your black cat. His warmth threatened to melt the ice you'd spent years cultivating around your heart, and you weren't sure if you wanted to stop him. But you'd never say any of this out loud. You barely allowed yourself to even think all of this. No, you weren't foolish enough to let yourself hope for something in a place like this. 

Because no matter how sweet the what if's could be, your reality was cruel, always has been. So instead, you decided to watch him from afar, heart aching with the weight of unspoken words, as the seconds ticked closer to the night which would give way to the next day and the next game that might tear you apart.

Thirty minutes later, the dormitory was dim and quieter than usual, the faint hum of the fluorescent X and O on the ground and the transparent piggy bank full of blood-money above, the only sounds aside from the occasional snoring and shuffling of restless players. Most had fallen into an uneasy sleep, and here you were, being tasked with keeping watch.

You and Dae-ho were sitting across from each other near your group, shielded by spare mattresses. You sat on the cold metal floor, your back resting against a stack of unused bunk beds. Dae-ho was perched across from you, one leg bent, the other stretched out in front of him. His head was tilted back slightly, his eyes scanning the room, but the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips as though you weren't both surrounded by people who'd kill you without a second thought. You didn't know how he managed it, how he could find light in a place like this.

"You're staring," he said suddenly, his voice low but playful.

Your cheeks burned, and you looked away quickly, your arms crossing defensively over your chest. "I'm not."

He chuckled softly, the sound like a warm breeze cutting through the icy tension of the room. "Sure, you're not."

"Focus, Dae-ho," you muttered, trying to mask your embarrassment. "You're supposed to be watching for threats, not making jokes."

"I can multitask," he replied, his grin widening. "Besides, I'd argue you're more distracting than anyone sneaking around here."

You shot him a glare, but your heart fluttered at his words. "You're impossible."

"I've been called worse," he said, leaning back. His dark eyes softened as they met yours. "But you... you're something else."

You tried to ignore the way your pulse quickened, brushing his words off with a scoff. "Flattery isn't going to keep us alive, you know."

"No, but it's better than sitting in silence," he said. Then, after a pause, his voice turned quieter, more serious. "You don't talk much. Why is that?"

Your gaze flickered to him, surprised by the sudden change in his tone. "What's the point?" you asked after a moment. "It's not like anyone here is worth trusting."

He tilted his head, studying you. "Do you trust me?"

You hesitated, the weight of his question pressing down on you. The truth was, you didn't know. You wanted to, desperately, but trust was dangerous in a place like this.

"I don't know," you admitted finally. "Do you trust me?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. "I think I do," he said softly. "You've got this... thing about you. Like you're always a couple steps ahead of everyone else."

You raised an eyebrow. "That's a nice way of saying I'm paranoid."

"Smart," he corrected, his grin returning. "And I like smart."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't hide the small smile tugging at your lips. "You're ridiculous."

"And you're stubborn," he shot back, his tone light but affectionate. "But this just adds to the list of all the things I like about you. We make a good team, you know."

The words hung in the air, heavier than they should have been. You glanced away, your cheeks warming despite the chill of the room. "You shouldn't say things like that," you muttered, your voice quieter now.

"Why not?" he asked, his tone teasing but curious. "Does it make you uncomfortable?"

"No," you shock your head quickly, though the butterflies in your stomach betrayed you. "It's just... we don't know how this is going to end. It's better not to-" You stopped yourself, unsure of how to finish.

"Not to what?" he pressed, his voice softer now. "Care?"

You looked at him then, meeting his gaze. His dark eyes were steady, searching, but not pushing. It was so unlike the Dae-ho you were used to, the loud, laughing sunshine of the group. This version of him, quiet and sincere, was harder to guard against.

"It's dangerous," you finally said, barely above a whisper.

His lips quirked into a small smile, but there was no teasing this time. "Everything here is dangerous. Doesn't mean it's not worth it."

For a moment, you didn't know what to say. The silence stretched between you, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It felt... warm, somehow. Safe.

"Why do you do that?" you asked quietly, breaking the silence.

"Do what?" he asked, tilting his head.

"Act like everything's fine," you said, gesturing vaguely to the room around you. "Like we're not all fighting for our lives."

His smile faltered, just for a second. "Because someone has to," he admitted. "If we all give in to the fear, what's left? I can't control what happens tomorrow, but I can try to make today a little less awful. Even if it's just for a moment."

Your chest tightened at his words. He said it so casually, like it wasn't the most selfless thing you'd ever heard.

"You should get some rest," you said, focusing on the shadows dancing across the floor, your voice quieter now, "I'll take it from here."

"And leave you all alone? Not a chance," he decided, stretching his arms behind his head. "Besides, I'm enjoying the company."

You didn't reply, but your heart betrayed you, beating a little faster at his words. As the night stretched on, you sat together in the dim light. And for the first time in days, you felt a faint sense of calm, not because you believed things would be okay, but because, for now, you weren't alone. Neither of you said it aloud, the weight of unspoken feelings heavy between you, but for now, it was enough. 

[goldfades]

More controversially young girlfriend x sidney please I beg 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 my fave thing on tumblr rn

Sidney was a lot of things.

Disciplined. Respected. A goddamn adult man with a fully formed brain and a career built on structure.

And yet.

Yet, when it came to you?

He had nothing. No defenses, no strategy, no self-preservation instincts. Nothing except the overwhelming, all-consuming, slightly humiliating urge to make you happy.

And it wasn’t just that you were gorgeous—though, obviously, that was a problem in itself. You had this effortless, natural beauty that made his head spin, sure. But it went so much deeper than that.

It was the way you looked at him. With amusement, with curiosity, with something warm and open and unfiltered. Like he was just Sid—not Sidney Crosby, not the face of a franchise, not a legacy—just your Sid.

It was the way you laughed—loud, unrestrained, with your whole damn body. You were playful, always ready with a joke, always willing to poke at him, never afraid to give him shit when he needed it.

And it was the way you felt beside him, your energy all light and easy, like you could take anything serious and make it a little less heavy.

You made him feel young in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with age.

Not young in the reckless, careless way of twenty-something athletes who had too much money and not enough foresight. No, you made him feel young in a way that was alive. In a way that reminded him that life wasn’t just training schedules and game film and calculated, responsible decisions.

And that was the real reason he couldn’t say no to you.

Because the world saw you as his young, spoiled girlfriend, the girl with the wide eyes and the expensive bags, the one they thought had him wrapped around her finger with a pretty pout and a bat of her lashes.

And, okay—fine. You did have him wrapped around your finger.

But not just because you were pretty.

Because you made him happy.

And Sidney, for all his discipline, for all his control—Sidney liked being happy.

Which was why, despite knowing better, despite all logic and self-restraint, he found himself in the same situation over and over again.

Like right now.

"You are not pouting at me right now," he said, watching you with a raised brow.

You blinked up at him, so falsely innocent it was insulting. "Pouting?" you echoed. "Me?"

Sid gave you a look. "Yes. You. The pout. The eyes. The whole act you’re putting on."

You gasped dramatically. "Are you saying my feelings aren’t genuine?"

"I’m saying," he exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose, "that we both know exactly how this ends, and you are still going through the motions like I have even a fraction of a spine when it comes to you."

Your lips twitched, and he knew—knew—you were thriving off this.

"So," you said sweetly, stepping closer, tilting your head up at him, "*what I’m hearing is… you’re gonna get me the bag?"

Sid sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. "God, I’m a fool."

"You’re a very generous fool," you corrected, standing on your toes to press a quick, teasing kiss to the corner of his mouth. "My favorite kind."

Sid muttered something about being so whipped it was embarrassing as he pulled out his phone, already texting his assistant to make the purchase happen.

And then, before he even hit send—

"Wait!" you gasped, grabbing his wrist. "Oh my God!"

He stilled, immediately on alert, brow furrowing. "What? What happened?"

You placed a hand over your chest, eyes wide and serious. "I think I just realized—"

Sid’s heart actually skipped a beat. "What? What is it?"

You squeezed his wrist. "I might need the matching wallet, too."

Sid groaned, head tilting back as you cackled. "I hate you."

"Liar," you grinned, nuzzling into his chest. "You love me."

And—yeah. Yeah, he did. Like a damn fool.

And Sidney wasn’t proud of how easily he folded for you. But in his defense, you made it really, really hard to say no.

So, of course, despite all his grumbling, despite rolling his eyes and pretending to put up a fight, the second you started up with that sweet, pleading voice and those ridiculously big, unfairly pretty eyes—he caved. Like he always did.

Which was why, less than a day after your little performance, a sleek black shopping bag from Chanel was sitting on the kitchen counter, filled with the bag you wanted (and the matching wallet, because he was so far gone it was pathetic).

And the second you saw it?

"Oh my God," you gasped, dropping your phone onto the couch as you all but floated toward the counter, eyes shining like you just saw heaven itself. "Baby, no way—"

Sidney, already leaning against the counter with a lazy smirk, shrugged. "You really didn’t think I was gonna get it?"

You turned to him, clutching the bag to your chest dramatically. "I hoped," you sighed, "I dreamed—"

Sid chuckled, shaking his head. "Unreal."

But before he could get another word in, you were launching yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck, peppering his face with quick, giddy kisses.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," you murmured between kisses, your happiness so damn pure that Sidney actually felt something in his chest clench.

This was the part he could never prepare for.

Yeah, he liked spoiling you. Liked making you happy. But the way you reacted? The way you never took it for granted, the way you always lit up, always made it feel like the best thing in the world? That was what got him.

You pulled back slightly, your nose brushing his, voice softer now. "I love you."

And just like that, he knew.

Knew he’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.

But, of course, he couldn’t let you off that easy.

"Wow," he hummed, lips twitching. "Now you love me?"

You narrowed your eyes. "Shut up."

Sid laughed, his grip tightening around your waist. "You weren’t saying that when you were trying to manipulate me yesterday—"

"Manipulate?" you repeated, scandalized.

"—with your little pout and those fake sad eyes—"

"FAKE?!"

"—and now that you’ve got your bag, it’s all ‘I love you’—"

"Sidney Crosby, you take that back this instant," you demanded, poking his chest.

"Mmm, I don’t know," he mused, enjoying this way too much now. "Maybe I should return it. Can you even appreciate something if you got it through emotional deception?"

Your jaw dropped.

"You are so dramatic," you muttered, pulling away, clutching your bag tighter like you thought he’d actually take it from you.

Sid grinned, tilting his head. "You gonna pout again?"

You glared. "You are the worst."

"And yet," he smirked, leaning down, voice dropping to a low murmur against your lips, "you love me."

You exhaled sharply, your resolve cracking. "Unfortunately."

Sid chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead before wrapping an arm around your shoulders, guiding you toward the couch. "C’mon, princess. Let’s see what other trouble you can get me into."

And just like that, the cycle would start all over again.

[fatuismooches]

More Dottore and Fragile Reader voice lines, except it's your turn this time. A part two to this. Previous voice lines are here.

About Prime Dottore:

"Zandik. My one and only… words cannot express my tenderness and love toward him. I refuse to forget any moment I've spent with him. Not once has he given up on me, despite the times I’ve given up on myself. And he has always taken care of me, not once faltering in over four hundred years. I- I don’t know what to do sometimes when faced with that information. I wish I could be… less of a burden on him…”

About Omega:

"Omega, huh... he is the only segment where I always spend time with completely alone. See, he's not prone to sharing, just like Prime. I don't mind much, honestly, it's nice to get away from all of the noise and be with him. He always coaxes me to be more selfish too... is it a good or bad thing he's influencing me?"

About Alpha:

"Yes, the grumpy cutie I met all those years ago, the start of it all. He says that my presence is a hindrance and it only disrupts his work, but we both know that's false. Often, I like to sit by him as he writes his notes, pointing out all the errors caused by the atrocity of his handwriting... Sometimes, I feel bad using him as a reminder of the past."

About Beta:

"It always baffles me that Beta was once how Dottore acted. I mean, have you seen the difference between 'Mega and Beta? Anyway... he's always such a fun segment to hang around! Even when his assistants cower behind me in fear! Oh, and whenever he goes 'he-he-ho-ho', it always makes me giggle. Please don't tell him I did that impression of him though."

About Delta:

"Oh, Delta's... pretty mean. A really big meanie, if I do say so myself. He never laughs, never smiles, never entertains my shenanigans, always sees right through me... so rude. Huh? Don't worry about me, I'm allowed to talk about him like this. I still love him, after all."

About Zeta:

"Zeta's always so elusive! It was such a pain to track him down at first, he was always avoiding me. I thought he hated me... but once I got a hold of him, he is always so attentive to me! However, it greatly saddens me that he thinks he "failed" me... and yet he doesn't know how much it hurts me more that I've caused him to be like this."

About Zandy:

"Have you met my son? He's the sweetest little thing, isn't he? I remember how shy he was in the beginning, but he quickly grew to be such a dear. Always so excited and eager for attention. I can't help but wonder if Dottore's life could have been different if more people were kinder to him as a child."

About Pierro:

"I will always be indebted to him and Her Highness for taking me in. He is pretty scary to be around, but I feel sort of bad for him. I can't imagine how much responsibility he has... I once promised him I'd work for the Fatui once I'm better, but he didn't react much. Hmph, I'll show him how much I can boost Dottore's efficiency!"

About Capitano:

"The only thing I really know about him is that he's incredibly strong and well respected, at least from other people. The single time I met him, I also learned he was quite well liked by animals too, but it's hard to get any more information when he's so quiet..."

About Columbina:

"Bina is the best friend I've always wanted. I'm glad she's always there for me whenever things go bad. Although I can never predict what she's going to do or say, which is pretty strange, considering who I'm with, that makes her company all the more fun. Still, the amount of embarrassing situations she's tricked me into with Dottore... makes my head hurt."

About Arlecchino:

"I wish we could be closer, but I don't think it'll ever happen. I can't really blame her though, the relationship between her and Dottore is... not the greatest, for reasons I understand. I wonder what she thinks of me, the person who still stands by his side despite his sins?"

About Pulcinella:

"Oh... the little grandpa? I've always wondered how he's the fifth rank, but there's probably more to it than I know. Regardless, I didn't expect him to be so kind to me. I only see him once in a while, but every time he seems to know how I'm doing. And then, he proceeds to give me the best advice, exactly what I needed to hear at that moment, even when it has to do with Dottore. It's kind of scary..."

About Scaramouche:

"Ah yes... the Balladeer. He always wants to start up something with me whenever we cross paths, which is why my patience runs very thin around him. I hope the next time he goes into the Abyss, he gets stuck there."

About Wanderer:

"Who?"

About Sandrone:

"Her research sounds so cool! I've seen some of the things she can create, and it's completely fascinating. I too once had a love for machines back when I was a student. It's just a shame she never comes out of her lab... there are never any chances for me to talk with her. Well, I can always talk with Alpha and Beta about their research at least."

About La Signora:

"I've barely ever seen or spoken to her, but she has my respect. I heard what happened to her husband. If I ever lost Dottore, I'm not sure if I'd be able to go on... or at least be as half as strong as she is."

About Pantalone:

"Oh, Lone's one of my good friends! He always has such unique ideas for me to get back at Dottore, and listening to him talk about his theories quite reminds me of listening to Dottore. He's helped me a lot, dealing with this man. Still... as he does with everyone, I'm kept at arm's length. It doesn't bother me, but I wish I could help him in some way. But I know that'll never be possible."

About Childe:

"Despite being a Harbinger, he's a lot nicer than you'd think. Well, especially compared to the others in the Fatui. He's great at conversation, his family is the sweetest... and he always promises to spar with me once I'm no longer sick. Truly great company. Too bad Dottore's attitude toward him is... less than favorable."

About Furina:

"At first I hated her just like all the other Gods, but after learning the truth, I can't help but greatly respect her. To take on such a burden without having a single shoulder to lean on and succeed in the end... I think I've been through a lot of pain, but at least I've had Dottore and the others to ease it even just a bit. But she had no one, and I admire her will."

About Nahida:

"I try not to waste my time on things that upset me. It's not good for my health."

Sprint Start:

"No, no, I am not running at all. Look, if I get hurt and Dottore finds out it was your fault, you'll be the ones strapped to the table, not me. Hey... I wouldn't mind being in that position, actually."

Chat - Worry:

"I hope that one day he can make peace with himself."

Chat - Old Times:

"Sometimes I wish I was just a simple student again, having no worries other than my grades and pulling all-nighters with Dottore. Actually, that doesn't really sound relaxing, does it?"

Chat - Idling:

"If you're just going to stand here doing nothing, then I'm going to take a seat over there."

When it Snows:

"Would you be willing to distract Dottie so I can chuck a snowball at him? No? How boring."

When the Sun is Out:

"It's a perfect day to have a picnic and listen to him rant again."

In the Desert:

"... Omega, Beta, Delta, I don't care which one of you does it, get over here and make your hands completely ice cold before I faint."

Something to Share - Talent:

"If you ever need help writing something, you can ask me. I wrote some pretty good essays back in the day, you know. Dottore once said I should even write a book! I thought he was bullying me, but he was actually serious, for some reason. Maybe I should get Zandy to draw some pictures?"

Something to Share - Secret:

"Dottore actually has quite a sweet tooth. Well, this probably isn't much of a secret anymore because I accidentally spilled it to the agents, but it would do you good to keep this in mind."

Interesting Things - Foxttore:

"This little guy here? He'll do you no harm unless I say so, so don't worry. He was one of Dottie's failed experiments roaming the lab until he gifted the creature to me! These pufflings too, surprisingly they help me a lot more than you'd think. They're pretty strong, carrying all my things."

Favorite Pastimes - Meals:

"It's time to eat already? No need to worry about me, I'll just wait for a segment. See, it's best for both of us if I have company while I eat. My hands... aren't the most reliable."

Troubles:

"I am very happy that they have a good place to conduct all the research they want, but I wish they paid some more attention to me sometimes. Voicing this complaint over and over again, however, is too exhausting."

Amusement:

"Dottore's fan club never ceases to amuse me. I know every Harbinger has one but... it's completely hilarious. To go so far as creating a handbook about the two of us... well, I appreciate the dedication and the laughs, especially when I update Dottore on their activities. He may not care, but I support them!"

[forsaken-headcanons]

(TW for implied child death !! and body mutation idk. uhh basically the c00lgui did some things. yeah.)

If we're going to start blaming a survivor for being Spectre or for being the reason everyone's there, it's most likely to be 007n7.

NOW HEAR ME OUT PLEASE DON'T BLOW UP MY HOU gunfire sfx

ANYWAY AS I WAS SAYING, if one of the survivors were to be "Spectre", it would most likely be 007n7 for a small list of reasons I've gathered so far.

First off, the survivors and killers. I have a small list of the characters and why he would "forsaken" them.

Noob & Guest 666 - Noob and G666 had an extremely positive friendship back then, which made 007n7 deeply resent them because - how dare the two of them be happy, while he had to suffer in his own guilt for what he had done to Noli? He did some shit and figured out how to fuck with G666's code (I imagine Robloxians are mostly made up of code) and made him what he is in forsaken, hence why G666 mostly has a red-black color palette like his c00lgui (the color palette's definitely a stretch, but whatever </3)

Elliot - This is a really obvious pick. Part of me thinks that he would've let Elliot go if he hadn't pissed him off by banning them from Builder Brothers' Pizza and making c00lkidd extremely emotional and throw a tantrum about it, but I feel like that's just the PizzaBurger shipper in me. If I would be more realistic, he might've just forsaken him out of spite.

The Admins + 1x1x1x1 - Again, really obvious. They tried to supress him and his hacking things yada yada.... He also made Doom a killer out of spite and specifically chose him because... y'know. Doombringer. He is quite literally the bringer of doom??? And he also added 1x1x1x1 to rub more salt in Shedletsky's hypothetical wound.

Taph - Works for the Admins. Also, I feel like at some point, Taph would've demolished 007n7's house because - y'know - falsely terminated, so 007n7 just kept that hate to himself internally because he knew damn well he was gonna get his "revenge" soon.

Two Time & Azure - Similar to Noob and G666, he resents their relationship and how close they were. When he found out that a ritual had been performed and Azure had been sacrificed, he had taken that opportunity and made him into the killer he is in Forsaken, along with sending in Two Time, a way to teach them that no offense goes unpunished.

Guest 1337 - 1337 had a positive and a really happy family. 007n7 envied his joy and decided to take it away from him, just his own was taken away, too. This could explain why Guest was never favored by the "Spectre" and hadn't left him with any tools or items to fend himself with, only his fists and abilities.

Chance - They were always carefree and were surrounded by a BUNCH of people. 007n7, again, envied that. The carefree attitude they always had, their large friend groups, their fame... He had everything, and yet he still had the nerve to let himself be put into dangerous situations for the adrenaline rush. If life-threatening, adrenaline-inducing, scarring experiences was what Chance wanted, 007n7 would give it to them.

Area 51 killers - 007n7 probably had an Area 51 phase as a teen or something. Idk I can't make up anything here except for that.

John Doe & Jane Doe - Again, envy. Seeing their positive marriage had dealt some level of effect on 007n7. He felt envious of the fact the two were happily in love, happily holding a relationship he knew he would never had. The thought of that alone had driven him insane with anger and guilt, corrupting John Doe and leaving Jane Doe only as a mere spectator, never being able to see her own husband face-to-face ever again.

Noli - As a plea of forgiveness. Before he had left Noli for whatever reason, 007n7 knew about Noli's sadistic tendencies and how he used to often torment people with his programs. He had forsaken him as a way to tell him "Hey, I still remember you enjoy this. Please don't ever think I forgot about you." and "I'm sorry for what I did. Here, I'll let you have free will to do whatever you want, as long as it means you'll forgive me."

(This is where the TWs come in !!)

c00lkidd - Had a bit of difficulty figuring out this one without implementing some hcs into it. You know how there was an accident that had something happen to c00lkidd? 007n7 could never forgive himself after that. He spent all night and all day trying to search for kidd, going from town to town, asking locals if they had seen his son, to no avail.

It wasn't until the day he had finally found c00lkidd's body, deep in the woods, dripping in blood. He didn't know what had happened. He didn't know why his son was dead, heartlessly murdered, left in the woods. Driven by guilt, he had tried his best to bring him back to life, tears dripping down his face as he messily fumbled with his son's code, trying to find a way to bring him back warm and into his arms.

All he had ended up doing was disfiguring his own son's body. Arms and legs freakishly longer than a normal 10-year-olds, a wide, sunken smile on his face, and a distorted voice. But it didn't matter. He had brought his son back to life. He knew what he had done was wrong, but he couldn't bring it in himself to undo his craft. Instead, he had opted for sending his son into the crooked world he had crafted, letting him "play" with the survivors and make new friends. After all, all he wanted was the best for his beloved son.

As for 007n7 himself, well...

The one in rounds isn't actually him. It's just a more advanced clone of himself, which is why "he" almost always never smiles, always looks distant or out of it. He had used that puppet multiple times to try to have conversations with his son and former friend, trying to see if they were doing alright in the pocket dimension.

Uhh might add some more on this theory soon <3 my brain is FRIED rn and I still have some homework to do :P

-⛑️🍗 anon

007N7 AS THE SPECTRE AU/THEORY??? WAITT THIS IS LOWKEY PEAK.... we might fw the idea for this actually...

godss the concepts of how everyone got here are so so good!! but trust us when we say we are hunting you down for the potential angst ideas /silly. in tears at c00lkidd's part... 7n7.... 7n7 we don't think that's what your son would've wanted vro 💔💔

[aphroditeinthesea]

can i please request a percy jackson x reader where the reader is a daughter of aphrodite to the song i can do it with a broken heart by taylor swift

“ i can do it with a broken heart ”

percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite 🌊

⚠️ percy is an ass to the reader but that’s kinda a given + percabeth inclusion woop woop

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

i can read ur mind

she’s having the time of her life

there in her glittering prime the lights reflect

sequin stars off her silhouette every night

i can show you lies

“I’m so happy you're finally getting over him,” her sister smiled, hand on her back.

She forced a grin as she continued to sing along to the campfire song. She nodded and waited for her sister to turn her attention away. When she finally saw the girl from the corner of her eye turn towards her boyfriend.

Y/N looked down to the grass. If she looked up she knew what she would see. Just the thought was nauseating. The boy who she claimed to all her friends she would marry, who she already had best laid plans to move to New Rome with and go to college together.

Everything that came to a crumble when he decided he did want those things. Just with his best friend instead.

She watched from across the way how his arm was wrapped around the blonde. They weren't even talking, just looking into each other’s eyes. It was as though they were having an entire conversation without saying anything. She recalled how when she first started going out with Percy and her friends tried to warn her. Everyone knew that the two were soulmates, except for three people.

She wondered if on some level she always knew, too. Maybe she was just denying it to stay with him for just a little bit longer. Even if she screamed all night the day she he broke up with her.

If you were ever so inclined to wonder what really truly happened, here’s the deal:

It was like any other Friday. Perseus Jackson waltzed into her cabin, head low almost as though he cared. He told her he wanted to talk to her privately in cabin three. Her heart sank. She knew. She just knew.

Soon enough, while she sat on his bed and he stood in front of her, he spoke in his softest voice.

“We need to break up.”

She felt her head get dizzy while she looked up at him, “what?”

“I’m so sorry,” he sat next to her, “I hate having to do this to you.”

“Why?” was all she could say.

His eyebrows creased, while tears welled up in his sea green eyes. She felt like she was looking into one of the clear seas of Greece. “I dont feel about you the way that I should.”

She sighed, “Annabeth.” Although because of the weakness in her voice, all that came out was, “Eth.”

He understood her. Slowly nodding, he began once again, “I realized I feel more about her than I should,” he took a breath, “but I wouldn't do anything before ending this with you. I couldn't hurt you like that.”

That damn loyalty of his.

“I get it.”

i’m a real tough kid

i can handle my shit

they said “babe, you gotta fake it til you make it”

and i did

The next morning, it was like it never happened. Afterall, a girl’s gotta have a reputation to upkeep. Everyone’s favorite daughter of Aphrodite. Who could hate a girl so bubbly and peppy and outgoing and happy and has never once had a bad hair day?

Everyone tried to get her to talk about it, but the only thing she said was “I’m helping at arts and crafts today, tee-tee-why-ell!”

With a smile on her face and the taste of vomit on her lips, she pranced around helping campers make vases and false confidence.

“You need to guide your hands up more, like this-”

“Y/N.”

She looked up to lock eyes with the daughter of Athena. “Annabeth.”

“I really wanted to talk to you.”

She flashed her blinding smile and raised eyebrows, “I would love to talk, but I’m right now,” even though her blood boiled at the sight of the blonde curls, “see you later, though.”

“I’m staying.”

“Oh!” She squeaked, “grab a seat.”

lights, camera, bitch smile

even when you wanna die

he said he’s love me all his life

but that life was too short

As soon as y/n was alone she broke down, hitting the floor. She felt all the pieces of her shatter. She had spent hours grinning like a winner before she finally crashed.

She let out every emotion she had felt that day. The anger, the sadness, the betrayal, the heartbreak, all of it. She let out a scream for every glance she shared with either Percy or Annabeth.

But just before dinner, she dolled up her makeup and curled her hair to perfection. Then brushed it out. Then straightened it.

She knew she was overthinking it, but how damn stupid would she look walking out to dinner with hair that mirrored the girl she was just left for? Of course, the meal went as it always would. Her cracking jokes with her siblings, giving out advice that not a soul asked for, all was normal except for the table across the way.

The Poseidon table, which was currently being shared by a certain blonde. This had to be a joke. She watched their conversation flow so easily. The laughs, the smiles, whispers, before Annabeth snuck back off to her own table.

She thought to herself that maybe she should have done that. I mean, if little miss perfect could bend the rules a little, why couldn't she? Maybe that’s why he left?

Over the next few weeks, she tried to block out everything about him. Maybe it was just a dream. But occasionally she’d find something of his in a drawer. Crucial evidence she didn't just imagine the whole thing.

She was sure she could pass this test. The test being the ability to not spend her days crying. And although she did cry a whole lot, she was so damn productive. It was honestly an art. She knew for the rest of her life that this time really proved how good she was at faking. You know? ‘Cause she’s miserable and nobody even knows.

Try and come for her job.

[kangshxrtie]

DANCE4YOU | PARK SOHYUN

sypnosis — y/n is dared to give park sohyun a lap dance pairing — park sohyun x reader trope/genre — mutual pining, fluff, and slight smut includes — kim yooyeon, kim nakyoung, zhou xinyu, and koma mayu word count — 5077 words

you were in your dorm, half-dressed and halfway through your makeup, getting ready for a party you hadn't even wanted to go to. one of your roommates, kim yooyeon was sitting at her desk, applying some finishing touches to her makeup.

somehow, your other two roommates, zhou xinyu and koma mayu, had managed to convince yooyeon to go. you were only going because in a moment of false confidence, had said you'd only go if she did—because yooyeon wasn't the type to agree to these things.

except this time? you've never felt as betrayed as you did then when she looked you dead in the eyes and said, "fine. i'll go."

so here you were, curling your hair and rethinking all of your life choices that had led you to this moment. 

"i still can't believe you said yes," you muttered, glancing at yooyeon through the mirror.

"i don't know. xinyu promised we wouldn't be there for long and i was also promised free food afterwards." yooyeon shrugged, lip gloss in hand.

"i wasn't promised free food," you stared at her.

"sounds personal," yooyeon shrugged.

you rolled your eyes playfully. "you know we're gonna end up staying longer then promised, right?"

"i give it three hours," she said, "max."

"sure," you smirked. "we'll be lucky if we're not crawling home at three in the morning."

across the hall, you heard mayu yell, "hurry up or we're pregaming without you!" followed by the pop of a can being opened.

"alright, let's go. before mayu and xinyu start making up drinking games again," yooyeon sighed dramatically, grabbing her jacket.

you stood up, checking and smoothing your outfit and giving yourself one last look in the mirror to make sure your makeup looked good. "i have a feeling this night is gonna be weird."

"of course it is. it's a sohyun party," yooyeon smirked, opening the door.

"sohyun?" you repeated, eyebrows raised.

"yeah," yooyeon nodded like it was no big deal.

you immediately turned on your heel. "yeah, i'm not going," you said, already stepping back into your room.

"oh my god—you already agreed and you're literally dressed up."

"and?" you shot back, "i can get un-ready and be in bed in five minutes."

"come on," yooyeon groaned, leaning against the doorframe. "we probably won't even see her."

"yooyeon. be so fucking for real right now," you gave her a flat look.

"okay—fine," she huffed. "but maybe it's time for you to confess to sohyun."

"me? confess? to sohyun?" you stared at her like she'd personally offended you.

"it's literally our last year. what do you have to lose?" yooyeon shrugged.

you sighed, flopping dramatically onto your bed. it wasn't like yooyeon didn't know the situation—sohyun had been your crush since freshman year. it was embarrassing, honestly. a slow burn kind of crush that never let up, no matter how hard you tried to outgrow it. the worst part about all of it was, she just kept getting hotter every year. like, unfairly so.

it wasn't like she didn't know you existed either. she did. you'd had classes together, been at the same parties, and shared mutual friends. you'd even talked and joked around before.

you were still lying on the bed, face down on the bed, silently considering how you were gonna get out of this now, when mayu stepped in.

"if you hate us and didn't wanna pregame you could've just said so!" xinyu yelled as she walked in holding a solo cup, "why are you still horizontal?"

"she found out it was sohyun's party," yooyeon explained, completely unbothered as she slightly moved out of the way of the doorframe so they could both get in.

"ohhh," mayu said, following in with a smug little grin. "we did forget to mention that little detail."

"of course you did," you mumbled into the pillow.

"don't be mad we just really wanted you to come with us tonight," mayu said, walking over and yanking the pillow out from under your face. "so you need to get up. you look too hot to stay in the house; we're not letting you sit in here all night thinking about someone who may or may not already have a thing for you."

"what if i just don't wanna" you sat up slowly, rubbing your temples.

"that is what pregame is for," xinyu said, tossing you a can from her mini bag. "mental preparation and alcohol."

"unless you wanna take shots instead," mayu offered cheerfully, already opening your fridge like she lived there. "i know you keep that little emergency stash of soju."

"i'd like to remind the room she agreed to go to," yooyeon raised her hand.

"that was before i was tricked," you muttered, cracking open the can anyway.

fifteen minutes and two drinks later, you were buzzed, warm, and starting to feel like maybe showing up wouldn't actually kill you. 

"we should probably leave if we don't want to show up when people are already blacked out," mayu said after a while already heading out of the room.

you were now ready. well, not really but you were ready to fake it all. and now it would be a waste to just crawl back into bed and disappear for the night.

as you all walked out of your side of the dorm, yooyeon grabbed her bag and handed you your jacket. "you're gone be fine. worse case, you see sohyun, make weird eye contact, and never talk." 

"best case," mayu grinned, holding the door open, "you kiss her and she falls madly in love with you."

"zero in-between," xinyu added, sipping her drink as you all filed into the hallway.

"cool. love that for me," you muttered.

still, as the four of you made your way to the party—the music could already be heard from half a block away—there was a weird twisting in your stomach. fear, excitement, and just the faintest hope that tonight's outcome will work in your favor.

and of course, the second you walk in, you see the one person who's been the main problem of your entire college experience.

park sohyun, just standing the middle of the room, drink in hand, looking so damn fine.

the music was loud, the lights were low, and the living room was packed wall-to-wall with people. the kind of packed where it was impossible not to brush shoulders or get accidentally posted on someone’s story. you could feel the music through the floor, drinks were being passed around, and the air smelled like sweat and perfume; great.

you stuck close to your friends, weaving through the crowd until you found a semi-cleared-out corner where you all could relax for a second. you were just about to tell xinyu to give you another drink when someone yelled over the music, “truth or dare!”

"we just got here," you froze slightly.

“oh no,” yooyeon muttered beside you. “it's starting.”

before you could even back out you were dragged by xinyu to where truth or dare was happening, a circle forming in the middle of the room. you caught glimpses of familiar faces filing in, people from your classes, campus regulars, a few you barely knew, and then you saw kim nakyoung which meant someone wasn't too far behind—your heart skipped a beat when you saw sohyun.

they both slid into the circle effortlessly, near your group considering the whole mutual friends thing. 

you took that time to glance at the dark-haired girl; her drink was in one hand, the other resting casually on her knee, like she wasn’t currently destroying your ability to think straight.

“we can still leave.” you looked at yooyeon, eyes pleading.

“too late. we're already sitting down.” she said as she took a sip of her drink.

and she was right. you didn’t even remember doing it, but somehow (xinyu's fault), you were in the circle too. 

of course the game started innocently. a few truth questions like—boring things like "what's your largest age gap" and "who was your last kiss" which could actually be pretty messy if you asked the right person.

some tame dares—chug a drink, post a story with no context, text your ex and stuff like that.

you mostly tried to keep your head down while also playing along when reactions were needed hoping it would help you slide under the radar. but you knew you were cooked when you made eye contact with nakyoung after her turn.

"okay y/n." nakyoung grinned at you, clearly about to either ask you to do something crazy or ask you something crazy, "truth or dare?"

"dare," you answered without hesitation.

nakyoung grinned even harder at your answer, "give sohyun a lap dance... or take five shots."

the room immediately exploded in screams at the dare.

"easy choice," you said barely even thinking it over.

before anybody could even process that, you were already making your way over to a very stunned park sohyun, who looked like she was reconsidering every decision that had led her to this moment.

someone dragged a chair into the middle of the room, practically sohyun into it before she could even protest. somebody else was already at the speaker to que up a song. the opening beat of a slow, sexy song with a baseline started thumping through the room.

sohyun sat frozen in the char, eyes wide as you straddled her lap, moving to the beat with confidence. her hands hovered awkwardly in the air, visibly struggling, because she clearly didn't know where to put her hands.

you grabbed her hands and placed them behind her chair.

"i—i'm not touching you," she muttered under her breath, jaw tight.

"that's good," you smirked, leaning in just enough to have your lips almost pressed up against her ear. "this is a look but don't touch type of dance."

the room was literally screaming now, and sohyun looked like she was about to melt into the floor.

you rolled your hips slowly to the rhythm, following the beat as you leaned back just enough to give everybody watching a show. sohyun's eyes were zeroed in on you, roaming around your body but not meeting your eyes.

her jaw clenched tighter when your hands ghosted down her shoulders and slid along her thighs, but not touching too much, just enough to make her visibility tense.

"y/n.." she hissed, voice barely audible over the music and noise.

"shhh, you don't have to talk," you murmured, tiling your head as you trailed your eyes down her face, "just focus on me."

her eyes finally locked with yours, which was clearly a mistake—because now you were both holding eye contact, and neither one of you looked away. the crowd didn't matter anymore. your only focus was on making sure you looked hot, the music, and sohyun.

you knew this was planned as a joke, but now it seemed like something more could come out of this.

you leaned in closer, lips brushing over her cheek as you whispered, "aren't you glad i chose dare?"

sohyun swallowed hard, but didn't say anything. yet, her silence said everything.

sohyun's breath hitched when your hand brushed her neck on the way down, and you felt her legs tense beneath as you slowly and deliberately shifted on her lap.

"you gonna tip me after this?" you teased, trailing your fingers lightly over her collarbone, before slowly dragging them back up.

"god, i hate you," she whispered, voice cracking from the lie.

"i bet you do right now," you smirked.

you let your hands slide into her hair, tugging just enough to tilt her head back slightly—not too hard though.

she inhaled sharply, lips parting like she wanted to say something. she stared up at you, eyes dazed, but it seemed like she was trying to hide how affected she was by the whole situation.

"you're really pretty from this point of view," sohyun finally managed out, but her voice was shaky, her face flushed, and her thighs were definitely still tense under you.

"you can see more of it later," you whispered, barely holding back a grin, "if you can get us out of here."

and you didn't kiss her; you didn't have to.

because the second you pulled away, slow and smug and confident as hell, you knew you'd just won something neither of you had admitted was even a game.

you moved back over to where yooyeon was sitting, slipping back into your original spot and shooting her an innocent smile like you hadn’t just given park sohyun a lap dance in front of a full room.

yooyeon blinked at you, looking absolutely stunned. “not in my four years of living with you have i ever seen anything like that.”

“well, what did i have to lose? it’s our last year," you shrugged, repeating her earlier words right back at her with a smirk.

she stared at you like you’d grown a second head. “still—that was just crazy. have you always had those skills?”

“liquor courage. don't question it.”

the room finally started to settle again, everyone slowly returning to their spots, though the energy still buzzed. all eyes turned back to you, since it was your turn to ask the next truth or dare. you were absolutely thriving in the attention, especially with how nervous everyone suddenly looked. you took a small amount of pride in the fact that nobody was topping that performance anytime soon.

you glanced around, then locked eyes with nakyoung. you smirked. “nakyoung… truth or dare?”

“dare,” she shot back without hesitation, mirroring your smirk and clearly accepting whatever challenge you had coming for her.

you leaned forward, resting your chin in your hand, eyes glinting. “i dare you to blindfold yooyeon… and get guided by touch from the top of her body to the bottom.”

“what—?” yooyeon blinked confused on why she was catching strays.

“or take five shots,” you added sweetly, already scooting away from her spot.

“evil,” yooyeon muttered under her breath, glaring at you.

“all's fair in this game, roomie,” you grinned.

“immediately yes,” nakyoung said before yooyeon could even protest, standing up way too eagerly.

a chorus of gasps and laughter followed her as someone tossed her a black bandana from across the room—honestly, the fact that someone had that ready was more concerning than the dare itself.

yooyeon stared up at nakyoung with wide eyes, clearly trying to act nonchalant, but you could see the internal gay panic going into full meltdown mode. you leaned back, arms crossed, just to enjoy the show.

nakyoung didn’t hesitate. she moved behind yooyeon and gently tied the makeshift blindfold over her eyes, her hands brushing against yooyeon’s face for a little longer than necessary.

“okay,” nakyoung said, “guess i’ll start at the top.”

yooyeon flinched the second nakyoung's fingers touched her shoulders, and you swear you saw her toes curl. nakyoung’s hands were light, almost teasing as they skimmed over yooyeon’s arms, down to her fingertips. she paused there, letting her thumb brush along yooyeon’s palm.

“doing okay?” nakyoung asked, voice a little too soft.

“great,” yooyeon replied, though she sounded like she was about to pass out.

“she's not even touching you like that and you’re already sweating,” mayu snorted in the background.

“shut up,” yooyeon muttered, blindfolded and flustered beyond saving.

nakyoung moved again, fingertips ghosting across yooyeon's collarbones, down her sides, then slowly over her waist. yooyeon visibly tensed at that and tilted her head back slightly like she was trying to keep it together.

“just part of the dare,” nakyoung said innocently, but everyone in the room could hear the teasing in her tone.

your grin only widened. revenge was so, so sweet.

when nakyoung’s hands reached yooyeon’s hips, yooyeon let out a quiet noise, somewhere between a squeak and a breathy laugh. “okay! that’s enough. i’m taking the shots.”

the room burst into laughter and cheers as yooyeon ripped off the blindfold, face flushed all the way to her ears. nakyoung just raised her hands in mock surrender, grinning.

“didn’t even make it to the knees,” xinyu teased.

“i value my life,” yooyeon deadpanned, grabbing a shot glass.

“she lasted longer than i thought, honestly,” you leaned over with a smug smile.

“don't talk to me,” yooyeon said, downing the first shot.

“oh come on,” you teased. “you're welcome. that was practically a confession.”

nakyoung was still standing there, clearly proud of herself. she finally sat down next to yooyeon, watching with a smirk as your poor roommate knocked back the punishment shots one after the other. not once did she offer to help, just sat there, all smug and pleased while yooyeon slowly lost it next to her.

the room was loud, everyone practically screaming over the dare, cheering yooyeon on. amid the chaos, you barely noticed the presence beside you, until you felt a hand on your wrist.

you turned just as sohyun crouched beside you, eyes locked on yours. “let's go,” she said low enough that no one else could hear, her fingers gently tugging at your arm as she coaxed you to your feet. your heart was already thudding in your chest.

“you don’t think they’re gonna notice us disappearing?” you blinked.

she tilted her head slightly, lips twitching into a smirk. “oh, they’ll notice. do we give a fuck?” sohyun stood fully now, still holding your wrist.

you paused for half a second before shaking your head. “not even a little.”

with that, you let her guide you away, slipping out of the room without a single glance back.

she brought you to the nearest room she saw which just so happened to be a bathroom and as soon as you were in there you used your foot to nudge the bathroom door closed behind you. your eyes stay locked on sohyun’s, and without breaking the gaze, you reach back and fumble for the lock until you hear it click.

“hey,” she says with a smirk, voice low and teasing.

“hi,” you reply, biting your bottom lip.

there’s a beat of silence—long enough for your heart to start racing in your chest—before you finally speak.

“so… why'd you bring me to your.. bathroom?”

“definitely not to do what you’re thinking,” sohyun says, shaking her head with a playful grin.

you start turning around, already calling her bluff. “well, if that’s the case, i might as well leave.”

“wait,” she calls out, stepping toward you.

you pause, glancing back at her over your shoulder with a small smirk. “yes?”

“i did call you in here for that,” she admits.

“oh, then we should probably get down on our knees and start praying now,” you joke, eyes flicking down then back up at her.

“shut up,” sohyun laughs, slipping one arm around your waist and pulling you in.

“i’m kidding. but i wouldn’t mind getting down on my knees for something else,” you whisper, grinning as your hands find their way to her waist.

“well, i guess you could do that for me,” she chuckles, glancing around the small bathroom. “but we should probably change the location first.”

“why?” you ask, tilting your head. “you're the one who acted like this was our only option when this is your house?”

“i just wanted to get alone as soon as possible,” sohyun says, her grip tightening around your waist as she pulls you even closer.

“you already have me locked in here. you don’t need to keep using the cheesy lines,” you murmur, looping your arms around her neck.

“i just don’t want you to leave,” she says, voice quieter now. she leans in until her lips are barely an inch from yours.

“i'd never,” you whisper, your voice dropping, “now are you gonna show me the real reason you kidnapped me from the game?”

“is that a challenge?” she tilts her head slightly.

“take it how you want to.”

“challenge accepted,” she murmurs.

she closes the distance first, pushing you gently back against the bathroom door as her lips find yours. your hands slide down her sides, curling around the backs of her thighs, before dragging up to rest just under her arms. you tilt your head, angling perfectly to meet her mouth, and pull her impossibly closer.

sohyun’s grip tightens around your waist. her tongue grazes your bottom lip, asking for entrance—and you don’t give it to her which she notices.

and the next second, she’s tickling your sides, making you giggle into the kiss. she uses the opening to slip her tongue into your mouth, shutting you up immediately.

you raise one leg, hooking your knee up by her hip. her hand instinctively catches it, fingers trailing up and down the back of your thigh.

you lose track of how long you stand there like that, pressed up against her, kissing like the world doesn’t exist. it’s only when her lips start trailing down to your neck that you manage to find your voice again.

“i thought,” you breathe, trying and failing to sound unaffected, “we were gonna do it somewhere else.”

“we are,” she mumbles against your skin. “just getting started.”

“i wanna go now,” you say, your head gently thudding back against the door.

“what about my party?” she asks between kisses along your collarbone.

“fuck the party,” you mutter, eyes fluttering shut.

“my room?” she asks, her voice low, lips still brushing your skin.

“yes,” you say without hesitation. “now off, so we can go.”

she pulls back slightly, pout already forming on her lips. “just a few more minutes?”

you lean in again and kiss her—just once, soft and quick. “we can keep going once we’re there.”

and with that, you're unlocking the door again, ready to leave.

once you and sohyun made it to her room, thankfully unnoticed, she barely got the door shut and locked before she was on you.

sliding one of her hands up to cup your jaw, sohyun leans in and kisses you, slow and sensual, her mouth coaxing yours open as you shift onto your knees. the movement tilts her back and your body follows hers naturally, pushing her gently against the bedframe.

when she breaks the kiss and leans her head against the top of the bed frame, there’s a grin on her face that makes your stomach flip. you rise up and lift the hem of your dress, straddling her bare thighs, her oversized t-shirt riding up just enough that the heat of her skin settles perfectly against yours.

her hands settle on your hips, and you brace yourself by curling your fingers over the top of the bed frame just above her head, your breath catching as her thumbs inch your dress higher. “hmmmm, you want me to eat you y/n?” she murmurs, voice playful and low.

your eyes darken with want as she slides one hand under your dress, cupping you softly through your damp underwear. you can’t stop the small whimper that leaves your parted lips when the heel of her hand presses firmly, her middle finger curling just enough to remind both of you how soaked you are. when she repeats the motion, teasing the wet fabric against you, your hips twitch forward involuntarily. “already so wet?”

you spread your knees a little further, pressing against her touch as her other hand tightens around your hip. dropping your hands from the bed to cup her jaw, you press your lips to her cheek before whispering, right at her ear, “i'm always wet for you.”

that pulls a groan from her, her hands pulling you in even closer as she captures your lips in another desperate kiss. her tongue tangles with yours, and her hands slide from your hips to your back, fingers fumbling slightly as she unzips your dress with urgency. she keeps her forehead against yours as she ends the kiss, breathless and flushed, helping you slide the straps off your shoulders. you reach back to unhook your bra, discarding it quickly, and your hands tangle in her slightly damp hair as she tugs the fabric of your dress down to your waist.

her arms wrap around your back, pulling you in. the warmth of her skin radiates through the cotton of her shirt, and her mouth moves to the side of your neck, slow and reverent. her lips and tongue skim over your collarbones, your shoulders until your legs flex around her waist and you feel her shift. with a quiet groan, she turns, guiding you down until your back hits the cushions.

she kneels between your legs, lifting her shirt over her head and tossing it on the floor, your eyes follow every motion, and your chest rises as your breathing quickens. she leans down, bracing herself with one hand by your head, and the other teases against the wetness at the center of your underwear. her mouth latches onto your nipple, her tongue flicking, sucking in rhythm with the slow circles of her fingers. your back arches as your hands tangle in her hair.

“baby, take them off,” you gasp, pulling her into another kiss. her fingers fumble at the waistband, and you groan as the kiss deepens and distracts her. she chuckles against your mouth, pulling back just long enough to strip your underwear and toss them aside.

you grin, sliding the bunching fabric of your dress down between your legs, but stop her with one hand low on her stomach when she starts to move back down. “uh uh. you’re still slightly overdressed.”

“says the one with not even a single piece of clothing off,” she teases.

she still steps away long enough to remove the last of her clothes. your gaze tracks down and back up to her face, more serious now.

as you reach for her, your fingers brushing over the curve of her shoulder, you manage a breathless laugh between moans, your voice low and shaky as you whisper against her skin, “this is all your fault, sohyun… you didn’t even let me take this off before pushing me down and deciding you had to have your way with me… don’t stop…”

her hands drop to your knees, gently bending your legs and shifting you back. she lowers herself between your legs, resting her elbows on the bed, her hands sliding under your thighs. her mouth presses a sucking kiss to your inner thigh, trailing up with warm, open-mouthed kisses. then she kisses just below your belly button and looks up, voice soft and certain, “i want you to know... i consider us dating now because i don't just fuck anybody."

the words go straight through you.

your hands grip your dress tightly as anticipation flares hot in your chest. and then her mouth is on you, licking slowly against your folds, teasing, avoiding the spot you need her most. your hips jerk, but her grip holds you steady. her tongue moves in slow, aimless circles, the tip dipping just enough to make you writhe.

“god, sohyun,” you gasp, fingers threading into her hair, watching as she finally sucks your clit into her mouth, slow and deep. the rhythm of her tongue is maddening, and you can’t help grinding against her.

“make me come, baby,” you breathe out, voice rough and desperate. “you look so fucking sexy moving like that. god, i just want to touch you…”

her moan vibrates against your core, her tongue pressing firm as your muscles start to tremble. when she moves her mouth lower to gently lap at you through your release, your body arches, twitching. you hold her face, fingers gentle, your breathing shaky.

“what is it, y/n?” she murmurs against your ribs, looking up at you.

“come here.”

she lets you guide her up, straddling you now, your legs stretched out beneath her. your hands slide from her wrists to her arms, her shoulders, her breasts, her stomach—everywhere. you can’t stop touching her. one hand grips her hip while the other slips easily between her legs, two fingers pushing into her warmth. she gasps, starting to move, but you still her with a hand.

“no…stay still and just, take my fingers. just like that, sohyun.”

her moan fills your ears, her walls clenching around you. you thrust deep and slow, watching her face as you add your thumb to the mix, brushing across her clit. her head drops to your shoulder, panting, her lips hot against your cheek.

you guide her rhythm, controlling her movements as your fingers curl inside her. her hips buck, and she moans into your skin, “baby, you have to let me move before i…no, wait, right there…oh, fuck me, right there…”

you smirk, lips brushing hers as you continue, building her up slow, deep, and steady. her orgasm hits with a shudder, her body trembling beneath yours as she clenches around your fingers. her hands fall limp behind your head, your name soft on her lips as her body melts into the bed.

you finally pull your hand away, wrapping both arms around her as she snuggles in close, helping her adjust the dress back down over her thighs. she kisses your chest, listening to your heartbeat as her fingers trace soft patterns on your skin.

“your heart’s still racing,” she says, smiling. 

“that's your affect on me,” you grin, brushing her hair back from her face and tracing her lips with your fingertip.

she rolls her eyes playfully and kisses your palm, settling into your side with a sleepy smile.

“did you really mean it?” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. “when you said you wanted us to date?”

sohyun glances over at you, eyes soft even in the dim light. “of course i meant it. i’m not even drunk, you know.”

a beat of silence. then you smile. “okay then. we’re dating.”

she laces her fingers with yours, her thumb gently stroking along your knuckles as she lets out a quiet yawn. “alright, girlfriend. just… don’t wake up tomorrow and pretend this didn’t happen.”

you shift closer, wrapping your arms around her, your lips brushing over her forehead in a slow, steady rhythm.

“i won’t,” you whisper against her skin, smiling as her breath evens out. “you’re mine now. my sohyun.”

[j1goth]

Poppy playtime figureheads headcanons because im slowly going insane over this game

Leith Pierre

loves yapping and hearing the sound of his own voice. this man thrives in meetings, always dominates the conversation

high energy worker. often you'd be unable to tell if he's exhausted or not

dyes his hair to hide it's already graying lmao

he gives me attention whore vibes. center of the room anytime anywhere he is

has a habit of screaming in his car at the parking lot when work stuff is getting to him. it's a sight to behold (i thought this was funny ok??)

scares easily. super jumpy. hates being caught offguard. he propably let out a really embarassing scream once when someone pranked him and the words of it started making rounds around the factory and he enforced the ban to save his face

gives off this unsettling friendly vibe that you know just has to be fake

Harley Sawyer

propably definitely (un?)diagnosed aspd

emotionally unreadable nightmare. you don't know when his usual persona will drop and he'll snap and cuss you out of the room

perfectionist. doesn't trust people to things properly. if he wants it done right, he must do it himself (atleast he thinks so). if something isn't up to his standart, he'll redo it over and over. hates incompetence

never ever asks for help

takes naps in his office. prone to exhaustion due to overworking. caffeine and sheer willpower keeps him going. if his hands are shaking he just grips the pen harder

doesn't speak much at meetings unless it involves the Bigger Bodies initiative

if he had a wife, they divorced shortly after playtime put him in charge of the experiments. he got too immersed into work and ignored his personal life

keeps everyone at arm's lenght

Stella Greyber

youngest of all the four execs

she loves taking care of children. used to do a lot of babysitting when she was young, but she has no children herself

perfected the act of not thinking about whats actually going on at playtime. sometimes it randomly hits her like a train tho, and then she regrets joining playtime. she learned to quickly shut those thoughts down

tries to upkeep a false bubble of normalcy around herself. she's just doing her job, nothing more

children love her. kids often give her gifts and silly drawings when she visits playcare. she puts them all in her office

loves dressing up in vibrant happy colors, you will never catch her wearing 'sad' colors unless it's at a funeral

she propably thought about trying to adopt one of the orphans atleast once

Eddie M.N. Ritterman

loner by nature. doesn't leave his office unless necessary, you could go a whole week without actually seeing him

sarcastic, slightly unpleasant to talk to, but Leith says he likes to keep him around because he's very diligent and always does his work without complains

the workers can't decide who's worse, Eddie or Sawyer. Sawyer is a nightmare to work with and everyone is scared about doing something to make him explode, but when Eddie appears and wants to talk to you, you know you've done something really bad

complete enigma. company cryptid. some workers don't even know if he truly exists

super pragmatic

doesn't sugarcoat things. very blunt. hates doing small talks

is like the only one of the four execs to have the balls to straight up tell Sawyer to go fuck himself (maybe except Leith)

This is my first ever headcanon post lmao

[anpanman95]

Okay so I couldn’t wait for this I’m sorry. I need to talk about it because we might not get any answers any time soon — so I’ll create them.

Bear with me for a little while

Who is behind this?

My first suspect is Boss, for obvious reasons, but let’s think about it a little more.

Aside from the fact Yinwar are not that predictable, Boss has literally no motive to go after Jack/Joke at all, even if he hates them. He shouldn’t have any reason to want to hurt them cause his main desire is power. Money and power. How will he get power and money by kidnapping/keeping Joke hostage?

So here is my other guess. I’m sorry if this ruffles some feathers, but literally anyone could be behind this, knowing what Yinwar are capable of.

Apologies in advance, I’m gonna be brutal.

I suspect Nang and Rose

I know, I know, just hear me out

1. No auspicious date? Tragedy? I stand with Joke when he said “this is simply ridiculous”

Do you remember the last time Yinwar introduced a crazy, ridiculous idea (The Ring and its “power”), that ended up being false? (It was all a game from the Four Horsemen).

“you are also enemies” ?

My friend, they have literally never been enemies. Joke has never seen Jack as his enemy, not once. And Jack had never stopped caring for Joke, either. He had just been driven by anger and pain.

I understand they care a lot about this kind of thing in their culture, but the reasons P’Nang gave were simply not good enough. Telling them their union might become in tragedy? Why? Because they are enemies? They are NOT. They are literally NOT.

(my poor baby Jack fully believing it and Joke being outraged is the most accurate thing)

“You can’t be together” ?!? You’re telling me they’ve been engaged for a YEAR, and you choose this moment to tell them not to do it? Why are you dragging this out? Are you staling, perhaps??

I SAY SUS.

2. Rose not being helpful AT ALL.

I know she doesn’t really have any power, but what the fuck has she done to help them in this episode?

Girl did not lift one single finger except to try and hug Jack (yes that bitchy face did not escape me, Khun Rose)

My girl, I love you, but you could have done SO much more to help them. She didn’t do SHIT. Not ONE single useful thing.

Besides, everyone is talking about their loved ones being invited to this place, and then she casually says:

“It belongs to someone POWERFUL. Scarier and richer than Alice” — why would you say all that? Are you perhaps trying to pull them into a trap?

HUH? This brings me to the next one, actually.

3.How did everyone end up at the casino?

Let’s start with Nang’s scene learning how to drive. This scene irks me. She plants the “death” idea in Hoi, scaring him, unchaining the rest of the events.

Now, the rest of them:

Arun’s connection is his dad

Jack (and ultimately Joke)’s connection is grandma.

Hoi’s (and coincidentally Tattoo’s) connection is Nang.

Hoi is now scared

And loops Joke in to it.

More importantly, Nang gives the invitation to Hoi. Why did she give it to him?

Perhaps so he can show it to the rest? Tattoo, who eventually not only connects the dots for everyone to realize it’s a dangerous place, but also makes duplicates for all of them; to Joke, who realizes this might be the place where the stolen files went to, after Tattoo tells them it’s the same address Save sent them.

Also, did Nang go to this place, though? She was invited. Did Hoi tell her not to go? (I assume Jack stopped his grandmother from going. Arun might have done something similar, but then again, I’m not entirely discrediting boss as guilty)

Or did she actually go and we did not see her? You know, driving herself, as she now knows how to?

And WHY does she need to learn how to drive in the first place? And why didn’t we see where that ended? It felt so random, somehow. Does she need it cause she’ll be driving someone somewhere? Huh? Maybe to a house in the middle of nowhere? huh?

Last but not least,

4. Nang’s reaction to Joke ‘dying’

“If he didn’t die then it would have been you, Hoi” Excuse me, again, but why did anyone have to die? This is what I’m not getting.

How did Jack and Joke’s wedding result in someone dying? Is it because you don’t want this wedding to happen? Why could that be? Hmm?

It makes me wonder.

She also officiated the saddest, most depressing wedding of the century, and girl did not shed a single tear for a tragic dead of a friend. Not one single tear. That’s a biased opinion though.

….

Okay, now, why would they do this?

Well, Rose has a very obvious motive, everybody knows she might still have feelings for Jack.

Nang? Well, Nang will always be there for Rose. She cares for her, and let’s be real. They had a whole year to plan this out. Nang is always there for Rose, that much is clear. Even if that means breaking two people apart in the most horrible way.

Maybe they intended Joke to die and worked with carbon. Maybe they didn’t work with carbon and simply took advantage of the events to their benefit. Maybe they intended to abduct Joke all along.

Remember, it could be as simple as the person behind it being Boss, but Arun lives with him and how would he have not noticed his absence? Arun would have told his friends if his father disappeared or left somewhere.

And it doesn’t feel right. To me it wouldn’t make much sense that boss is the one behind this. I don’t think Yinwar will go down that route as it’d be too obvious. And so far, whenever they were obvious about something in the plot, they put it RIGHT on your face.

And another thing:

Joke’s reaction.

Joke looked both shocked and sad.

It leads me to believe it’s someone he knows and hadn’t expected to be there.

Look, I may be obviously wrong and they might be innocent, but I’m going out of my mind with grief at the moment and I need to analyze this shit to the bottom as a way to cope.

So, I know I might be missing a few things as I only watched properly once, so do let me know what you think. There is A LOT MORE to it, but my brain is all scrambled cause I only got these revelations an hour ago.

Do you guys think it makes a least a little bit of sense? Can you guys think of anyone else that might make sense other than Boss?

We can never be 100% sure, truthfully.

But if there’s one thing I do know, it’s that it’d be fucking awesome.

[bad-system]

did someone say 'haunted by the narrative' henry?

"in the end, you'll see i was right! the stronger dog fucks the bitches...!"

been thinking about the desperation with which istvan imparts these last words on henry. the more i think about it now, the more it's starting to sound like a warning more than anything else (before it's too late?). i know there have been dumber and less meaningful final words, but this one struck me because of its urgency. why waste your final, impaled breath on a vulgar catchphrase on an enemy you barely even knew?

could it have been foreshadowing rather than a struggle to establish his own high ground in his last moments?

i say all of this because istvan didn't nearly have the obsession with henry like henry did with him (or at all, actually). even to the point of admitting to erik that he had almost felt bad for henry, with no audience to perform for (except erik, arguably his most genuine audience).

and i think about henry being introspective about it. the words come back at the worst times. in the middle of a fight. after a kill. when the blood’s still warm and no one’s looking.

the stronger dog fucks the bitches. maybe that’s just how things are. maybe istvan said it out loud because everyone else is too scared to. it sounds awful because it is. but that doesn’t make it false. henry’s seen it—lords, knights, thieves, merchants. he's been it, in the moment it mattered most, with istvan. the ones who win are the ones who take. the ones who don’t flinch.

but he clings to the idea that he’s not doomed to become that. he holds onto his father’s voice instead. to the quiet decency in the things they made. he might not always know what’s right, but he knows what wrong feels like.

he wants to rise above it. wants to think he’s more than teeth and muscle and will. but there’s blood on his hands either way. and he’s starting to think istvan knew that better than most.

you could also argue that, if it was indeed a warning, istvan warned henry because he saw himself in him. he said this multiple times, "you're just like me", and with this warning, prophecy, it's becoming clearer why he kept saying that. istvan likely knew that it's a slippery slope and malevolent as he was, he was at least aware of it. that "i almost felt sorry for radzig's bastard" and the warning could very well have been a sincere, if crude, way of istvan saying; you don’t come back from this.

which makes sense! because henry's narrative up until his and markvart's death had been driven by revenge. istvan recognized this, henry like a dog with a bone (sword) in the face of everything. because if henry wants to be the dog that bites back—wants revenge, wants to protect—then he needs to embrace the animal.

WH masterfully created a villain who seems shallow—easy to hate, easy to dismiss—but it’s almost like we’re seeing him through henry’s tinted lens. henry never looks past the hatred, so we don’t either.

and then istvan shows up in a dream, just once. just enough to remind us he’s still in there, rotting quietly in the back of henry’s mind. but i don’t believe for a second that’s the last we’ll see of him. the emotional weight of that revenge, everything that led to it, was too heavy to just dissolve in the glow of a new adventure. it doesn't disappear because henry found a new sword or a new cause. i need henry to sit with it. to stew. to wrestle with it. conse your fucking quences, henry!

[etfrin]

❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter seventeen | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 SFW | canon typical death, violence, mentions of self harm, Coriolanus Snow, mentions of suicide | lmk if I forgot anything

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 coriolanus snow is now a peacekeeper.

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 i wrote this at four am, please forgive me if it's not good, give me your feedback!! And uhm.. i am gonna pull an all nighter, coz if i sleep now i won't be able to wake up in time tmr, wish me luck!!

Beta read by 🩶 @nowitsmissing 🩶

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Coriolanus was on the train. He had nothing but mere minutes to pack his belongings and say goodbye to his life in the Capitol. Tigris was in tears. And he knew the hug he gave grandma’am would be the last he ever received from her. Peacekeepers have to serve for twenty years after all.

He was on his way to district twelve. Not once had you come to visit him. He would lie to himself if he said he thought you would be at the train station. He expected an explanation. He was ready to accept lies. But no one was waiting for him. He was all alone.

Snow has lost his previous blonde curls as all officers had to have a buzzcut. He also had been sprayed with extremely cold water before he was given the blue uniform of peacekeepers. Coriolanus had gone over a small handbook and he realized hierarchy is everything. There are ways to raise rank but what's the point of it all?

What's the point?

He will never be president.

The Snow name will fall.

He will never have you.

He should just end it all.

That's when the door to his train cabin opens. The person who enters is completely unsuspected. Sejanus Plinth. His… friend.

Sejanus sits before him. Coriolanus doesn't even greet him. He's shocked. He blurts out, “Before you came, I was thinking about the merits of suicide.”

Sejanus replied with a chuckle, “Don't give them the satisfaction, Coryo.”

Coriolanus nods. He won't. He will make it out somehow.

“Why are you here?”

“I volunteered,” Sejanus said proudly, “as a medic. I will make a real difference like you said I can.”

Coriolanus wants to roll his eyes but doesn't. He likes the company he has right now, it's better than nothing. He smiles, all nice and fake. “Of course, Sejanus. You'll also meet your songbird.”

Sejanus Plinth blushed, “That too.”

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The First Week.

Ma Plinth sends letters regularly to Sejanus. She also sends him various goods including pastries that Sejanus shares with him. He hates it. Coriolanus still finishes his share of the sweet as it's so rare to find in the districts.

They don't have a day off yet. Sejanus hasn't found Lucy Gray. He's worried. Coriolanus speaks false words to put the poor boy at ease. It works more often than not.

The training is hard but Coryo excels. He's noticed by several of the recruits. They're friendly. He doesn't reveal that he's from the Capitol, nor does Sejanus Plinth. The gifts from his Ma are kept a secret.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The First Month.

Coriolanus Snow trains more and more. He trains harder than everyone. Snow eats well. He has more muscles than he had in the academy. Coryo could beat several people in combat now. He had gained the respect of his peers.

He was angry.

That’s the only reason he trained so much. Because if he thinks too much, he won't be able to live. He checks his mail every day. He gets them weekly from Tigris. It doesn't say much except the fact they're doing well.

Coryo rarely writes her back.

He yelled at Sejanus today.

It's the first time he ever yelled at the boy. Sejanus looks like he is about to cry and Coriolanus doesn't know what to do.

Coriolanus Snow is mad at you. And you aren't here to take the burn.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The Second Month.

Coriolanus caves in. He writes. He writes and writes dozens of letters addressed to you. It's about the smallest thing. How heavy the gun was for him to carry in the beginning and how it is now. How the air is fresh in some parts of the district and horrible near the factories. How bright the sun is. How pretty the flowers are. He speaks about the culture he thought district people could never have. He speaks about the people who are… kind. Different than he thought so.

Coriolanus doesn't send them to you.

However, Sejanus Plinth does.

Sej is sure you'll reply.

You don't.

He stops writing the letters.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The Second Month; Second Week

He begs onto the paper. So much ink is wasted.

Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please.

SAY SOMETHING BACK

He scrawls the words roughly onto the letter over and over again. Tears falling from his eyes and ruining the ink. It makes some of the words ineligible. He doesn't care. You'll get it.

You get him.

Out of all the people, why did you abandon him like this?

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The Second Month; Fourth Week

Snow doesn't get a reply. It doesn't matter.

Whatever healing his soulmate scar had gone through had reversed. It was the same ugly scar now. It didn't matter. Nothing does.

Sejanus says he's colder now. Angrier. He has a temper. Coriolanus doesn't care.

Sejanus Plinth forces Coryo to enjoy his day off. He drags him to The Hob, the bar in District Twelve. He sees Lucy Gray dancing and singing around. He meets with the Covey. He laughs for the first time in a while.

The same night he kisses someone. He doesn't remember who. He hates it. It felt like spiders crawling on his skin. He vomits outside of the bar. Sejanus is concerned. Coriolanus Snow quietly cries himself to sleep that night.

He doesn't touch his soulmate's scar for comfort anymore. He wishes he could cut all the skin off from his wrist where the mark was.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The Third Month; First Week

When he comes back to the Capitol, he will. He will kill you. He will ruin you like you ruined him. The next time you meet Coriolanus Snow you aren't coming out alive.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The Third Month; Fourth Week

Coryo can imagine his life here. With Sejanus and the Covey. Lucy Gray quickly becomes his friend (somewhat). Maude Ivory, her younger cousin, is sweet and considers Coryo like a brother figure.

It means a lot to him.

The music they play. The cabin in the woods. The cool lake is hidden in the forest. It's nice. A life worth having (he's lying to himself).

He hates the heat.

He misses the Capitol.

He misses you. Though he will never admit it.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The Fourth Month; First Week.

Coryo finds out what the hanging tree is named after. It's a tree used for hanging the rebels. And some rebels were caught recently. Their names were called out by the captain. And they were sentenced to death.

Coriolanus had to stand up straight and keep a poker face as they were punished. A girl calls out the unfairness of it all. Pleads that they were doing nothing wrong. Snow wants to scoff. The rebels tried to escape, flee to the north, away from the safety that Panem offered. That's betrayal in Coriolanus' book.

The girl is taken away as a rebel as well.

As it should be.

Dumb district girl.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The Fourth Month; Third Week.

A few officials have come from the Capitol to district twelve on a mission nobody knows anything about. Coryo hears rumors about it being about district thirteen and he's reminded of you. He doesn't pay much attention to it as they were just baseless rumors. District thirteen ceased to exist and his family had to face the consequences because of it.

Commander Hoff gathers every peacekeeper in the Nauen radio station. Hoff begins with a speech, “Today I call you here to let you know about the prestigious guests staying in District twelve for the time being. It is suffice to say that they expect the best from you as one of you will be assigned to be each of their bodyguard for their safety. They're from the Capitol, remember their lives matter more than yours. Do not let me down.”

Commander Hoff calls out names one by one and the peacekeeper is assigned to the person. He calls out your name. Coriolanus freezes, perhaps he heard wrong. He looks around onto the stage where the officials are and sees you for the first time in months.

Fuck. You're so beautiful.

He fists his hands. He bites the inside of his cheeks. It takes him everything not to descend into madness.

“...is assigned to Coriolanus Snow.”

You're under him now.

Good luck.

Next Part

[obxthornton]

Ladylike (Wolverine/Logan x Fem!Reader)

Wolverine X Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N just wants to be a little more "ladylike" for Logan.

Warnings: Cursing, light Dom reader and Sub Logan, Subjective use of what 'ladylike' is. 

WC: 2335

I had never been particularly fond of making myself look nice, especially on missions. Saving the world wasn't for the weak and was definitely not for a full face of makeup. By the end of the day, you would have mascara and eyeliner dripping down your face along with blood. It was simply easier not to get dolled up. Sure when I went out to the bars or to dinner I looked nice. Full faces of makeup were for those kind of things. Fighting and killing, however, not so much.

But here I was, applying mascara to my eyelashes while Wade banged on the door. "Princess, saving the world can't wait for you much longer!" He yelled kindly, but banging on the door again. "And I certainly can wait to piss either." I sighed dropping my makeup back in my bag and unlocking the door. "Thank you peanut," Wade said pressing a kiss to my cheek before pulling down his pants to piss, not waiting for me to leave.

"Woah. Park it fancy fuck." Wade said as I was leaving. I didn't turn around but I did stay in the doorway. Sounds of his urinating filled the bathroom. "What?" I asked rolling my eyes at my roommate.  "You got shit on your face. And not the normal shit. Date night shit. All over. False advertisement right there. And your tits our out. Mind telling me who you got all dolled up for?" Wade flushed the toilet and I walked out of the room, him following. "Drop it asshole," I said zipping up my suit higher and grabbing my guns from the counter, making sure the clips were full and stuffing them in my side holsters. I grabbed my knives next, checking them over.

Last week Wade and I had spent long hours discussing the housing arrangement if I were to get a partner. "What do you mean a partner? What's wrong with me? Your sexual, emotional, and fighting partner?"  I rolled my eyes at his words, "Shut the hell up Wade, you'll scare all my options away." Wade had scoffed and motioned around the room, "Wolvie isn't here, you are fine. Besides, you're scaring him away yourself." I narrowed my eyes at the man, my arms crossed. "What the hell do you mean?" Wade simply shrugged, kicking his feet as he sat on the couch. "Wolvie wants a lady, not some killer who will keep him on a leash for all of eternity." I used my foot to kick his leg, "I am a lady!"  Wade shrugged, "Only where it counts. You are a dominant entity and that's okay!! I'm very much into that. Logan likes a nice ladylike woman." I told him to shut up, but his words stuck a little more than I had hoped.

The door to our apartment swung open revealing a pissed off man. A pissed off man who looked at me and shoved a finger in my face. "You take too long." He stated. My eyes were big staring up at the man. Logan had become my weakness lately, a weakness I didn't even know I had. I was always bossy and blunt, never taking a liking to trying to impress or be giddy around a man. But Logan. It was like I couldn't help but never know what to say. My mouth went dry and my heart sped up and I'm sure he could hear it. It was only him. He was the only exception. I snapped out of it, pushing his finger away with a knife, "Cool it Wolv boy."

"She was getting all ladylike for you. That's why she took so long," Wade said behind me. I turned around and plunged the knife into his stomach. "Shut the hell up, Wade," I muttered twisting it lightly. "Aren't you just a kinky Son of a gun? A little longer of this and I'll probably cum."  I rolled my eyes and pulled the knife out, wiping it on my suit. "I hate you," I muttered. "Oo that's the spot." Rolling my eyes once again I turned back to Logan, shoving my knife in the strap. "Come on."

Wade knew about my soft spot for Logan. The day that we had encountered him, Wade had introduced himself and I stayed silent, eyes wide. Wade had wrapped his arm around my shoulder, "Lots of knocks to the head. She may be immortal but she still has a lot of scaring up there. She goes by Y/N, and you'll love her once you get over the hatred in her heart-" I cut him off by pushing his arm off, turning around slowly, and death glaring at Wade. "My time to stay quiet." He mumbled, sighing, and walking away. Logan had looked down at me, smiling, "If you can make him shut up like that every time, we'll get along just fine." 

I walked out the door, not seeing if the boys were following. I let out a sigh of relief to avoid an awkward situation. I silently cursed myself however for stabbing Wade, that wasn't very ladylike. I suddenly became aware of my body. Was any of it ladylike? Was my ass big enough, was my waist thin enough. I had never once in my life worried about any of this stuff. Never in my life had I ever felt insecure or uncomfortable in my skin. I mean I never had to, Wade kept the compliments flooding for miles. Always pushing that boundary of workplace harassment. 

"Pissed isn't a good look on you with all that cake on your face." Wade's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I didn't turn to look at him, but sent my fist out, punching him in the cheek. "Ow princess. That's not very nice. Or ladylike in front of Wolvie over there." I stopped in my tracks and turned to Wade, pulling my knife out of my pocket and showing him against the brick wall next to us. I held the knife up to his face, my forearm against his throat. "You need to shut the fuck up about all of this! If I hear one more goddamn word about any of this I swear I'm going to make you wish you could die, you hear me?" I yelled at the boy, shoving him deeper and deeper into the wall. I could practically see Wade's smile under his mask. It pissed me off. I shoved my knife into his chest before I was ripped away from him.  "What the hell has gotten into you today?" Logan yelled shoving me away from Wade. I was aware of everything again. If it was anyone else, anyone else, I would take them on and slice them up. But this was Logan.  His eyes pierced my soul and his face was daring, asking me to punch that look right off of him. But I didn't, "get out of my way," I huffed pushing past him.

-

The day had been long. I desired to go back to my room and take a shower, washing off the sin of today. Blood and dirt caked into my skin and on my suit, the black color speckled with red. I had tuned out Wade's comments or he had stopped saying them, I wasn't sure. 

When we got back to the apartment, Wade pushed past me and Logan, causing us both to stumble. "Dibs on shower!" He yelled racing into the bathroom and locking the door as if we would try to fight him for it. I sighed knowing I was too tired to do such a thing. I grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the top cabinet in my kitchen before going over the couch and stretching over it. I flicked off the cap, sending it flying to the other side of the room before I put the bottle lip to lips and took a long sip. I felt the alcohol seep into my system, making my wounds feel a tad better. 

Logan came over and looked at the side of the couch displeasingly before he pushed my legs off and sat down. I moved my legs back on top of his lap and took another sip of the bottle before passing it to him. He pushed my legs off of him with one hand as he brought the bottle up to his lips. "No." He stated. I sighed and sat up. "So what's actually up with you?" He asked out of the blue. I grabbed the bottle from him and took a long sip. "Nothing," I said defensively. Logan rolled his eyes, "I may be old, but I'm not stupid. You've been letting shithead get on your nerves a lot more these days." I shrugged and poured more of the liquid into my mouth. "He annoying." Logan chuckled, "Yes I know." He grabbed the bottle back and leaned on the couch arm, spreading his legs. "Come on. We can't have you like this. What's in that head of yours?" 

I sighed praying that the alcohol would seep into my bloodstream. "He's been saying I need to be more ladylike," I muttered looking down at my spread legs before crossing them. "Who the hell cares about that?" Logan said as if that was the dumbest thing he had ever heard. "I've been on this earth for 150 years. And not once, not once have I ever cared about what a man thinks about me." I said, taking a long sip from the bottle, "but then I met you. And suddenly I cared about everything. I cared about how you perceived me because for some reason you're perfect. Some fucked up joke it is. Never caring about what men thought of me because they were just so inferior and mortal." I chuckled and drank out of the bottle again, "Yet you, you're just like me. Stuck with this curse of caring forever. And I'll drink to that." 

Logan shook his head and grabbed the bottle before it hit my lips, "you aren't making any sense y/n." I groaned and leaned my head back, "You're hot Logan! You're hot and you fuel all my daddy and abandonment issues. Is that what you want me to say? It's gods sick joke that you made me for me down to the T of even being fucking immortal, yet we won't be together." Logan scoffed. Scoffed. As if what I said was completely unheard of and a challenge. "Why not?" His voice filled with anger as if I had just spoken insane claims. "Because lo, I know your type. Your type is not the girl who could kill you, it's the girl that says yes sir and has you dinner made for when you get home." 

He scoffed at those words and stated defensively, "Stop acting like you know me. you know nothing about me y/n." I rolled my eyes at him, grabbed the knife from my belt, and leaned over Logan. I pressed the knife against his throat and looked at him, my legs around his waist as I did. "Come on Logan." I said "This is not attractive. This is not the kind of person you want to get with." I huffed pressing the knife lightly against his skin. Logan's eyes pierced into mine, his hands resting on my back as if to hold me still. One hand reached up and placed it on top of me, pushing the knife deeper into his neck. "Everyone is attracted to you bub." Logan said narrowing his eyes lightly at me."You think everyone is joking when they say things like that because of Wade's fucked up humor, but he's not even joking when he says those things to you." A smirk covered his face, "Wade would fuck you in a heartbeat. Anyone would bub." His eyes narrowed at me lightly. "The knife's cute. You stab Wade all the time with it. It's like you forget I can regenerate too."

It felt like I didn't even drink half a bottle of whiskey because I suddenly realized what was happening. I was straddling the Wolverine with one of his hands on my ass and the other pushing the knife into his neck. "You are crazy Logan." He cocked an eyebrow at me and smiled, "What's crazy is you think you aren't attractive for being strong. Being powerful. This. This is sexy." My eyes were wide, "what did you just say to me?" I asked, trying to move my hand away from his throat and my legs off of him, but his grasp around me stayed firm. His eyes stared up at me, "You are so strong and powerful y/n, it's so hot." Logan said, "I can't be worried if my girl going to be killed or hurt because she can't defend herself. I need someone like you. I need you." He finally let go of my hand and I let it fall to his chest. "oh yeah?" I cooed at the man as I leaned my head down. Logan bit the top of his bottom lip, a smile coming across his face, he nodded. I brushed my bottom lip over his top, smiling lightly. Logan leaned his head up, capturing his lips in mine. Deepening the kiss, I grabbed the back side of his neck, pulling him into me. His stubble burned against my face, it felt so good.

"Are you guys done yet? That was so nice to watch. Needed after a long shower." Wade said, a towel wrapped around his torso and his head. I threw my knife across the room, letting it impale Wade's chest. He looked down at it, flicking it. "Not ladylike Ms. y/n." I rolled my eyes at his comment. He smiled and walked away towards his room. "Asshole," I muttered under my breath. His head popped back over the corner, "ladylike." He said. I threw my other knife straight at where his face was, he screamed but he moved out of the way, leaving it to stick in the wall. Logan smirked, "cute."

[flo-zoinks]

Could you please do headcanons for what candies the gang likes?

Of course!!! Thanks for asking me!!❤❤

I'm not very educated on different types of sweets soo bare with me plsss😭🙏

WHAT TYPE OF SWEETS I IMAGINE EACH RDR2 GANG MEMBER LIKES

Dutch - Liquorice. Nobody else likes it at all but he thinks his taste is more sophisticated

Arthur - dark chocolate

Pearson - purposely eats cough-medicine type sweets in public to rant it was all he had when he was back in the navy

Hosea - hard boiled sweets. Hands them out even though nobody else really likes them but nobody says anything

Strauss - humbugs to suck on whilst doing his work

Kieran - sugary lollipops and when asked why said it's like his own horse sugar lick thingy

Sadie - Jake used to love taffy and got her into it, whilst she doesn't normally have a sweet tooth it's an exception

Mary-Beth - jellybeans, falsely thinks Arthur likes the orange beans so always gives him those ones (they are her favourite)

Tilly - bonbons, especially the strawberry ones and used to eat alcoholic filled ones with Karen until around chapter 4

Karen - insanely sour sweets. Anything that's sour and complains theres nothing actually sour anymore

John - Javier once bought a load of imported mexican sweets and made John try some so now he likes Betamex. Jack and Abi HATE it but once John saves them in 1911 the house has so many from when he went to mexico

Abigail - Fudge. Would buy it as a treat once a month during her working girl days

Jack - Javier also gave Jack a paleta payaso to try and he loves it it's his favourite

Javier - duros (do they count?)

Bill - Candied roasted nuts

Grimshaw - keeps werthers in her bra to give out or have to herself (me too girl me too)

Reverend - whiskey chocolate

Trelawny - makes a whole story out of his favourite sweet being DELICIOUSLY rich, though really locally made somewhere in mainland Europe, yet generally just likes a good lollipop

Sean - hosea used to give him sticky toffee so he would shut up when he was younger so now it's his favourite

Lenny - mints. Is the one people go to if their breath smells real bad urgently and always has the most mintiest breath because of it (sean thinks its nasty)

Charles - chocolate covered raisins. Never really gets it though, just if he had to

Uncle - anything but coconut candy. Literally ANYTHING but goes on rants for ages if he finds anything coconut flavoured in there

Micah - says liquorice but its rock (stick candy in the usa?)

Molly - huge truffle and chocolate addict

Are these okay??? Thanks for asking me so much ily❤❤❤🙏🙏🙏!!!!

U know the drill tell me who I forgot again pls😭

[chevxyn]

CONFLICT = CHEMISTRY!

in which, you and sae got into a lil conflict outside a football stadium & the paparazzi’s made a false statement that the two of you are dating.

an itoshi sae smau series

act iv, ep 036 : deeptalk | next part

mature language, short written.

wc : 450

when you answered the call, rin’s voice came through, “[nickname] are you busy?” he asked and you let out a small hum, “nope.”

“could i talk to you?” he said, his voice sounding serious so you agreed. from his pov it’s time for him to come clean, tell them the truth why.

“you’re not gonna fall for sae, are you?” he asked immediately and you froze, huh? “why are you suddenly asking me this?”

“there’s something that i wanted to talk to you about.” he said, and you are starting to get those confessions that you have to reject vibes.

but fortunately, it was nothing like that when he said, “i’m worried.” he said, his voice is something you never heard from him.

it was a voice that had vulnerability visible from him. and the confusion you had increased, “why? what’s wrong?”

“[name], i’m worried if you’re gonna hope to be friends or worse, fall in love with him.” he simply said, “the reason why i never agreed for this is that cause i felt the same way as you did before he threw me out.”

“he gave me hope, for us to chase our dreams together and then that day left me in the dirt when he just came back, as he said i was not needed in his life anymore.” he revealed all at once, which was something you never expected to hear from him.

he was never one to open up much, especially when you both met at his worse, you remember you were just visiting japan when you saw him on that night, sitting on the football field ground.

and you helped him, not knowing what happened. he never told you anything except from how he hated his own brother, but you never get why.

so it was shocking when he said this, especially through call. “i just wanted to make this call so that you won’t get into the same situation as i did.” he expressed his worries, and while your heart and mind was racing.

you kept calm and just lets out a small laugh, “relax, why would i fall for him? he might had some good traits in him, but i don’t feel anything more than just friends for him, rin.” you assured, but he does not believe that one bit.

“i see, alright.” he said, “but if anything happens [name], please tell me. okay?” you were still frozen but you agreed, “yeah of course.”

“i just don’t want you to get hurt, that’s it.” he said, “after all, i see you as my older sibling replacing him.” and that tugged the strings in your heart, he really felt that way?

“i’m gonna go, since that’s all i wanted to say. good night, [nickname].” he yawned, “yeah, good night, rin.”

shit, this isn’t what you expected.

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