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sevensoulmates · 5 months

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Buddie 7x06 Meta

HURRAH! It's not a four-parter this time!! Just a one-parter! It's a Madney/Chim-centric episode (which by the way I loved) but the buddie we got was AMAZING! I'm so excited for the rest of the season. We're just gonna dive right in!

First, I want to say that with the hindsight of this episode, we now know that the bachelor party was not ACTUALLY something that needed to happen, narrative-wise. It didn't actually contribute anything to the Chim plot, as that would've happened with or without buddie going crazy in the hotel room. So, all of the Bachelor Party was written purely for the purpose of watching Buck and Eddie have a good time. Maybe for comedic relief, maybe for the purposes of furthering their story at a later point in the series. Time will tell.

First, I've seen other people point out that Buck expected Eddie to be early (even though he's the first person there) because he wanted Eddie to help him set up for Chim's party. To Buck, Eddie is the person who helps him with everything. This is Buck's idea, yes, but Eddie is the proverbial co-host in this married dynamic. So Eddie being "late" feels more like Buck being disappointed his partner wasn't there to help him behind the scenes to make everything perfect. It really does make the whole scene feel like Buck-and-Eddie (the bro-in-laws) throwing the party. So of course Eddie's breaking the unspoken rules by being late.

I love how Eddie walks in completely ready to be fawned over by Buck with their couple's outfit. It's hilarious to me because 1.) Tommy was planning on coming, Buck could've told Eddie he wanted to do a couple outfits with Tommy instead?, and 2.) Eddie was fishing for compliments and it just makes me giggle. If Buck wasn't so stressed out over this bachelor party, he likely would've reacted how Eddie wanted and given him a bunch of compliments on his look. It was jaw-dropping. If most of us (the audience) were blown away seeing Eddie in a pink suit for the first time in the bts (to the point where most of us were like "no way he's in character, this has to be Ryan's wardrobe choice"), I know that the other characters were too. It's not Eddie's typical wardrobe choice. In fact, it's such an out-of-character fashion choice for him, that it's unlikely that Eddie just had this lying around in his closet to throw on. He probably had to go and buy a suit like this just for the occasion. Eddie had to put in a lot of effort to do this couple's costume with Buck, and he did it all happily and enthusiastically. We'll come back to this in just a second because...

CLIPBOARD BUCK IS BACK! sans clipboard but you get my drift. I love how this visually connects Buck to his sister and harkens back to a lovely Buddie moment "This is Eddie's house, I'm not really a guest" back in season 3. This time around, we have Eddie assuming he would get special husband privileges and is pouty when Buck doesn't allow it.

BUT at the same time, he's not getting on Buck's case too much about it beyond the initial pouting. He may not know why Buck's so insistent on throwing a party, but he knows it's what Buck wants, so he moves on, and even watches with somewhat amusement when clipboard Buck gets turned on Ravi for doing the same thing later.

I also want to point out that Eddie has never once, ever, been upset with, annoyed by, or irritated with Buck when he's in Clipboard Buck mode. Most of the time, Eddie either finds it amusing cute, or is just generally accepting of it. This is no exception, however, this later devolves into Buck and Eddie going absolutely wild. This further exemplifies how Buck and Eddie accept and support each other, even when the other is being lowkey stupid (everything they do at the bachelor party) or unreasonable (clipboard Buck). It's all very much partner in crime coded.

Framing. Jesus Christ the FRAMING. Tommy walks in and not even two seconds into the interaction, the camera frames Eddie FRONT AND CENTER between them, watching Buck and then watching Tommy. Buck and Tommy hug and when they pull back, there's Eddie watching them with an odd look on his face. I'm not going to go so far as to call this jealousy/pettiness, but it is odd. There's an intimate physical moment between Buck and Tommy, and then Eddie, who constantly haunts their narrative, is just there. And he's actually objecting to Tommy's presence there. Not in a mean or hostile way, but just a second ago he was high-fiving Tommy, welcoming him in, but once the physical special relationship between Buck and Tommy is established, Eddie starts to bristle a little bit.

This entire exchange is just odd. Eddie knows that Tommy is friends with Chim. He has every right to be there for Chim alone. He's also aware that Buck now has a closer relationship with Tommy, and Buck's the only one who wants this bachelor party, so it should be obvious that Tommy would come. And yet...Eddie is questioning Tommy's presence there. He's reducing Tommy to Buck's "date", not Eddie's friend or Chim's friend, or someone who's slowly integrating into the group. No, it only becomes a problem when Tommy is there as "Buck's date".

This is then proven by Tommy, who's actually known Chimney longer than either Buck or Eddie have known him. He has all the right to be invited. But what's especially interesting is Buck's face when Eddie starts expressing objections to Tommy's presence. He looks shocked, a little worried, loss for words. Like he's worried Eddie is disapproving of them. It could be worry lingering from last episode, where Buck was afraid of his queerness pushing Eddie away. It also showcases a bit of awkwardness between Tommy and Eddie too. Eddie has been established as enjoying spending time with Tommy, and now he's hesitant to have Tommy in spaces with Buck as a romantic partner. It demonstrates that maybe Eddie isn't as comfortable with Buck and Tommy together as he led Buck/the audience to believe. But where is that uncomfortablity stemming from? That's yet to be determined canonically.

Buck then goes on the deny that Tommy is his date (for the bachelor party) and insists that Tommy is only his date officially tomorrow at the wedding. I personally don't understand why Buck would need to clarify that Tommy isn't his date to the bachelor party. If they're dates for one, it's usually assumed they're dates for the other, especially given how close the events are. I get that Buck wants to make the night about Chimney, but it can be about Chimney and still have Tommy there as a date.

This is also an interesting line that I've pondered over. Because while it's true that taking Tommy as a date anywhere would be hard launching both Buck's queerness and his relationship with Tommy, which could draw attention away from Madney and to Buck, but it also shouldn't be that big of a deal (and is proven at the end of the episode too). If the wedding had gone to plan originally, then Buck and Tommy going together wouldn't have had to have drawn too much attention. He could've told Chim, Hen, his parents + everyone separately before the ceremony even began. It didn't have to be such a huge deal, so I was wondering why Eddie brings out the usual phrase the show tends to use when they want to remind Buck that not everything is about him. But Buck wasn't trying to make it about him. Eddie should know this. As much as Buck has had issues in the past of taking things far too personally, and believing things to be more about him than they actually are, that's not what is happening here.

I actually think Eddie saying this line is more revealing of Eddie's feelings than it is about Buck making it about him again. It's revealing that Buck, his relationship with Tommy, and Buck's queerness are a big deal to Eddie, enough so that he believes it will draw a lot of attention. And maybe Eddie's not as cool with the idea of everyone knowing about Buck and Tommy as he tells himself. I want to reiterate that I don't believe any of this stems from legit homophobia towards Buck and/or Tommy, but more so a discomfort Eddie harbors about Buck's queerness, what it means for Eddie, and what Buck being with Tommy takes away from Eddie. All of this is unconscious, confusing, and frustrating for Eddie, and therefore what comes out of Eddie's mouth is a barb at Buck's expense. And it's why his reaction to BuckTommy at the end of the episode is kind of muted but mostly positive. He's confused.

Buck had told Tommy previously that it was an 80s theme party and asked him to dress up. This brings me back to my previous point that Buck could've asked Tommy to dress up with him. Instead, Buck and Eddie are framed as the literal "couple" here visually, and Tommy is framed as the odd one out. Not only that, but what he is wearing is a Henley, which as most of us know, is a staple of Eddie's wardrobe. (General author's note: I don't usually harp on about wardrobe choices in the show because that's not my specialty but I will here because it is a textual part of the plot).

We've previously established in the last few episodes that Tommy is a narrative mirror to Eddie. Tommy's meant to be like Eddie in almost every way, same interests, similar personality types, etc. He's even paralleling Eddie here by dressing the same way Eddie normally dresses. But it's being juxtaposed by Eddie standing right beside him (once again Eddie is framed in the middle throughout this entire exchange with Buck/Tommy when Eddie very easily could've just stepped off to the side to let them have some privacy). EDDIE is dressed way differently than he usually is in a bright pink suit, going out of his way to make Buck happy even if it brings him out of his comfort zone wardrobe-wise. And in contrast, Tommy did not take the time to dress up, even though he knew Buck wanted him to. I'm not saying that this makes Tommy a bad person, or inconsiderate of Buck, but it's just one of those little things. One of those forethought things that Tommy just isn't aware of because he's only been dating Buck for a few weeks at this point.

Others have pointed out that Tommy would've had to change out of his clothes and into his uniform regardless if he was on standby, so why couldn't he have at least just added a little bit of 80s flair to his current outfit? It wouldn't have been any more time-consuming. Maybe it would've put Tommy out of his own comfort-zone, or maybe he would've been a bit embarrassed, but that's the kind of thing that one might reasonably risk in order to make their partner happy.

Tommy isn't aware that by not dressing up, he's hurting Buck's feelings. That's just one of those things he wouldn't know about Buck because he does not have the lived experience of what Buck needs emotionally from his partners. Eddie, on the other hand, has years of experience with Buck and knows that if he really wanted to he could be just like everyone else who didn't dress up and that Buck would put on a face of being fine with it, but deep down inside, it would make Buck feel ignored and hurt. Eddie doesn't want to ignore Buck, and as we've seen from his last line about "making it about you", Eddie can't ignore Buck. So even if it means pushing himself out of his comfort zone, Eddie's going to show up in full costume, ready and enthusiastic to be with Buck.

All of this is being done for a purpose. It's to show us that while Buck and Tommy are still learning and developing their relationship, something is off, specifically in comparison to Eddie. The show is purposely framing Eddie as a better partner to Buck than Tommy is being in the current moment. Which is kind of unfair, if you think about it. If the show was setting Tommy up to be Buck's newest love and future endgame, they would instead be giving them opportunities to grow together, to get to know each other. Instead, the show is telling us in every subtly way it can that hey, wouldn't Buck fit so much better with Eddie instead? It's contradictory and doesn't further the plot if BuckTommy growth was the purpose. These bachelor party scenes as plot devices only work if the purpose is to show the audience that something isn't fitting with Buck and Tommy, but whatever that missing piece is, it does fit with Buck and Eddie.

Tommy then doesn't understand that they're supposed to be dressed up as the Miami Vice characters. He instead assumes The Wedding Singer (1998). First, I want to say that this is the 2nd Adam Sandler/Drew Barrymore romcom that's been mentioned in canon in relation to Buck (the first being 50 First Dates in the season 5 finale) and as a huge fan of those movies, I'm fangirling. Second, it aligns with Tommy's s2 characterization where he loves romcoms (Love, Actually, and now The Wedding Singer). Third, it's an interesting choice from the writers here to pick The Wedding Singer as the movie that springs to Tommy's mind. There are plenty of 80s movies with bright colors that could've been name-dropped. They instead purposely went for a movie about the 80s but made in the late 90s, for the express purpose of having Eddie point out that Tommy's wrong. This is all very subtle, but it definitely does feel like Eddie is trying to lowkey one-up Tommy. But why would he feel the need to do this?

I've seen others point this out as well, but The Wedding Singer is about two people who are engaged to other people who are very obviously not right for them, though they might try to convince themselves differently. I rewatched the movie yesterday morning and I found it very enlightening. Adam Sandler's character is very much in love with Drew Barrymore's character, and almost tells her to leave her fiance for him, but in the end, he assumes incorrectly that she's happy with the other guy, and leaves them be. Drew Barrymore's character was ready to settle with someone she didn't fully love for security, and the only reason she doesn't tell Adam Sandler's character the truth is because she thinks he's still in love with his ex. It's all very miscommunication-y, but at the same time, it's reflective of Buck and Eddie's characters currently too given that neither of them really knows what they're looking for, they're just seeking a feeling, and may or may not be finding it in their current respective partners. But in the end, even after all the miscommunications, there's a HEA in The Wedding Singer.

Something else of mention was how in the movie, Adam Sandler's character was asked how he knew that things weren't working out with his ex and he said something along the lines of "It was the little things. Like, one time we were going to the Grand Canyon, and I had never been there before and she had, and instead of letting me take the window seat in order to see the beauty of it from above, she took the window seat for herself." This reminded me of this scene with Tommy, where it's just the little things that aren't fitting between him and Buck. I will come back to the topic of BuckTommy and misalignment later.

There have been many posts discussing how Crockett and Tubbs are another one of those "manly" buddy-cop pairings who were very queer-coded best friends who obviously never got together. Many people believed Crockett to be bi-coded as well. What's interesting to me is that this marks the second/third time in the last two episodes where they argued about who is the bi-coded character. I just find it interesting meta-textually when you think about the fact that fans used to argue incessantly (still do honestly) about whether Buck or Eddie could be queer and now that Buck is confirmed to be queer, people argue that Eddie can't be queer now. Additionally (I don't watch Miami Vice but I looked at a lot of the pictures) it seems that visually, Eddie should be aware that he is dressed as Tubbs, since most of pictures of them feature Crockett in blue/green semi-casual and Tubbs in pink/elevated suits. Visually, their roles should be obvious to anyone who is familiar with the show. Just like how Buck's queerness is now obvious. But now, the argument is well, there's an argument to be made that Eddie could be Crockett, and subtextually, also queer.

The narrative continues to hint with every single episode that passes that it's very likely Eddie will discover his own queerness at some point in the show. Just like there's no need for Buck and Eddie to argue over who gets to be Crockett, they can both be Crockett for christ's sake, they're both gonna end up queer. Of that I am certain.

So not only was Eddie totally down to clown with Buck at this karaoke bachelor party, but he was the one who suggested the couple's costume. We see more instances of Eddie not trying to tell Buck "hey, Chim said he didn't want a party, so don't do it", instead he goes along with it and finds a way to be even more enthusiastic about it. And I don't think that that was just because Eddie really wanted to party. I think it was because Eddie realizes that Buck must be wanting to do this for a reason. Possibly Buck might be doing this because he wants to show Chimney just how supportive he is of him and Maddie, maybe it's because Buck never got to be too involved with Maddie's last wedding because Doug hated him. Maybe this is his way of trying to make up again for his actions in season 5 when Maddie left and Buck didn't tell Chim. Or hell, maybe it's just now hitting Buck that he's going to have a brother, for real now, after realizing all he lost with Daniel, and wants to make this day special for Chim to showcase his appreciation of their brotherhood.

Buck is obviously overcompensating for something, and Chim and the rest of the gang don't realize why the bachelor party is so important to Buck. Hell, Eddie might not know entirely either, but he does sense that there is something more than just "I want to party" going on with Buck and this bachelor party. And so, as always, he is ride or die for Buck.

Then, when everyone else gets up to leave karaoke, Eddie doesn't even get up. He doesn't make it look like he's also considering leaving either. He doesn't check his watch or phone or make it seem like it's a burden or an inconvenience to be there or like there's somewhere else he'd rather be.

Once again, this scene with Tommy and Buck is framed with Eddie clearly in the picture, to show how he's just chilling, drinking, and ready to stick it out with Buck regardless of what happens. And then Tommy is the last one to finally leave and disappoint Buck that night.

And now I want to bring it back to BuckTommy, misalignment, and the ever-present Screaming Universe. If this was real life, it would just be a coincidence, but it's not. This is scripted fiction and everything is done with a purpose. What purpose did the writers have to get rid of Tommy but keep Eddie around to party with Buck all night long? If the writers wanted, they could've had Tommy stick around, more so to show a juxtaposition between the three of them hanging out. Or the writers could've had Eddie leave, and Tommy stay. It would've served the same purpose. Tommy still could've left the next morning for work and come back sooty for the kiss. Instead, the story/universe wanted Tommy to leave and this undeniably creates a micro-conflict between Buck and Tommy. It's undeniable that Buck is disappointed that Tommy's leaving and that he didn't really seem all that enthused to be there in the first place. Tommy then leaves, he's gone for the majority of the episode and comes back at the end. This is now a pattern for the third time in a row.

In Tommy's introduction episode 7x04, he and Buck have a moment at the beginning of the episode, a conflict between Buck and Tommy is introduced, Tommy is there a couple times throughout but he and Buck do not have any one-on-one scenes again until the end where their "miscommunication" is resolved by their kiss. In 7x05, they have their date at the beginning where weirdness happens and Tommy ends it, is gone the rest of the episode, until he returns at the end for Buck to make up with and rekindle. And now in 7x06, Tommy is there at the beginning, there's a misconnection, Tommy leaves for the rest of the episode, and they reconnect at the very end.

That's three whole instances of conflict with BuckTommy all written in a very similar way back to back to back. All of these conflicts revolve around the theme of misalignment and not knowing what they want personally nor what the other person wants. All of this harkens back to that first little moment with Buck and Tommy in 7x03 where Buck pats Tommy's arm, Tommy reaches to connect their hands and misses. I predicted that this would be a metaphor for the rest of their relationship, and so far I've been right. Because it seems like no matter how hard both of them try, they aren't quite connecting, not to the fullest. There is always a conflict that pops up that pulls them apart every single episode and they have to find ways to resolve this at the end. Again, if this was irl it'd be a different story, but as part of a narrative where they're not only trying to showcase Buck's first-ever queer relationship but also strongly comparing it to his "platonic" relationship with Eddie, it feels pointed and poignant. Buck and Tommy's constant misalignment feels like the "universe" trying to tell them something but they're not yet at the point of understanding what.

I highly doubt Buck would've wanted to party with a bunch of strangers if he wasn't feeling so disappointed by both Tommy and Chim. Eddie too, I'm wondering why he didn't want to go home or go be with Chris and visit his family. Or maybe go and see if maybe Marisol wanted to hang out. In fact, Marisol not being in this episode at all, or even mentioned, after the last episode is telling as well.

Many people have pointed out that the karaoke scene parallels Maddie and Chim, and this is even more pointed when the song that is playing when Maddie and Chim get married is Island in the Stream which is the song they first sang karaoke to. Buck and Eddie we know sing "What I Like About You" by the New Romantics, which Oliver, Ryan, and Tim all described as the best song for them to sing to/with each other at this point in time. I still think of it as canon even though we didn't hear it (I get why, they had little time and also licensing is expensive). This song is a romantic song, that's undeniable, and it also makes me think of Shrek and Fiona so it's double iconic. It's also an interesting choice in the moment where Buck is at a low emotional point, and Eddie chooses to stick around with him, indulge with him, and have fun together. It really is a great moment to show how not only are they there for each other in serious and emotional moments, but they also just enjoy spending time with each other, and would choose to spend time with each other any time they can.

Now I wanna talk about just how close physically Buck and Eddie get in this episode. For a lot of us, it's kind of whiplash because while Buck and Eddie have hugged and touched before, never so much in this way, or this much, or this intimately. Buck has his arm around Eddie's neck, their faces closer than they've probably ever been before? Buck is literally whispering into Eddie's ear ("keep on whispering in my ear, tell me all the things that I wanna hear because it's true, that's what I like about you") pulling Eddie into his chest. Eddie's leaning his entire upper body onto Buck, resting most of his weight on Buck. They're pressed together thigh to thigh, leaning their knees on each other. All of this demonstrates not just an emotional closeness, but a physical closeness (thank you, ABC, fuck u Fox), and not only that but an intimate physical closeness. All of this coming right after an episode where Buck came out. I love this because it shows a lack of Eddie being weirded out by being physically close to a queer man as a (seemingly) straight man. But it's also just so telling because Buck and Eddie have not been this physically close before....like ever...in this show. And now they are at the turning point of Buck's queerness being made textual and Eddie's queerness being STRONG subtext? Oh my goodness it's such strong storytelling.

This might be reading into it, and I acknowledge that, but this dialogue exchange felt to me less like they were talking about all the nameless people who were around them and more so like they were talking about each other. These are strangers, they don't know Chim, let alone love him. Neither do these people know/love Buck or Eddie. Instead, this conversation reads to me more like Buck talking about how Chim should be here because his friends (Buck, Eddie, Hen, etc) love him, and Eddie agrees. Looking even deeper, given that Chim didn't show up and the rest of their friends left them for the night, this feels more like Buck and Eddie talking about themselves. Because why is Eddie here? There's no reason for Eddie to be here partying it up except for the fact that he loves Buck and he wants to make him happy and enjoys spending time with him. This exchange is Buck recognizing that, and Eddie agreeing that he really, really does love Buck. And that's why their shenanigans continue as they all move on to Chim's hotel room.

They could've given up/left once Chim's door was locked, but Eddie encourages Buck to keep on going. Touching Buck like how Eddie loves to touch Buck, in the way that's most appropriate for them, on the shoulder like this. Then he kicks the door in and when Buck is ready to go wake Chim up to party, Eddie's like "Eh let him sleep", because, for Eddie, he doesn't really need Chimney around to have fun. Despite what they were just saying about bringing the party to Chimney so that Chimeny could feel the love too, Eddie's perfectly content just partying it up with Buck and only Buck.

These three clips in the bachelor party montage....I'm just gonna be frank with you, they're so obviously meant to look sexual. So CONTENT WARNING**** for me about to talk about sexual positions and such.

I don't have to tell you that although Buck and Eddie are technically partying with a bunch of other people, none of them are actually important. They're NPCs there to give Buck and Eddie an excuse to do all of this stuff with each other. So everything they do in this scene is more so a reflection of their relationship with each other, as well as their metaphorical queerness than it is about just general partying.

We know (due to bts) that at some point Eddie was leaning over to pour alcohol into Buck's mouth. It looks like Buck is leaning back on the couch in his most favorite/frequent canonical sex position (girl on top/riding) that we've seen in the past. This time with his mouth wide open with a phallic symbol pouring a liquid directly into his mouth. It looks like a blowjob/cum shot. Then we have Eddie with his clothes being pulled off and torn away. From the bts, we know that Buck is behind him and helps the girls pull off his sleeves. Other than the obvious "ripping each other's clothes off" metaphor, there's also the "orgasmic" look on Eddie's face as well. Others have also discussed how Eddie appears to be recreating the "crucifixion pose" /Jesus on the cross with his arms out like that in a reference to his catholic guilt arc and how before he's very much let that guilt control him and now in this scene with his close being ripped off, it can also be a metaphor for Eddie's eventually freedom from compulsory heterosexuality and guilt.

The last still with both Buck and Eddie vigorously shaking champagne bottles near the crotches (mimicking mutual masturbation) and then both of the champagne bottles "explode" mimicking both of them reaching a mutual climax, which then cuts immediately to both of them waking up the next morning. It's very very obviously a metaphorical gay sex scene.

Separately from that, I want to discuss this specific still, with both Buck and Eddie in between 2 very clear-as-day drag queens. This inclusion elevates the scene subtly yet very clearly to represent both Buck AND Eddie in proximity to queerness/the queer community. It further cements the queerness of this entire montage scene.

Finally, to conclude the bachelor party scenes, I just want to reiterate, that Buck and Eddie could've figured out Chim was missing any which way. They could've gone over the next morning w/o partying there. Buck could've gone by himself, etc. There were many ways the "Chim is missing" plot could've been done without needing to go this route for Buck/Eddie. Which means that this plot was not for any necessary reason other than to bring Buck and Eddie together.

Then while they're going on their chase to find Chimney, Buck and Eddie are paired up together the entire time, working together as a team, once again looking more like an established couple than anything else.

Then, as if fitting with the BuckTommy "beginning and ending only" episode pattern, Tommy comes back only at the very end of the episode, and he and Buck kiss, transferring soot onto Buck's face and providing a very quick and easy way to come out to all the rest of the people who haven't yet known about Buck. Most people look surprised, others smug (Henren, we'll get to them) and Eddie gives an interesting close-lipped smile. This moment in and of itself isn't very loud. His face is purposely vague here (hats off to Ryan, king of microexpressions). Of course, Eddie's going to look happy for them, he's not going to look jealous. But his smile could be brighter, his eyes could be warmer. There's again just something off about his expression there. I think it's confusing for a reason, because Eddie too is confused about everything he's feeling.

Hen is incredibly smart, so I'm not surprised that she clocked Buck's queerness a while ago. Her telling Karen this, and Karen's agreement means that this is something they likely discussed in private as well. In my opinion, if she was able to clock Buck, there's no way she hasn't also clocked Eddie. She just isn't saying anything because she's a respectful and empathetic person.

Hen wasn't really there for most of Buck's Tommy-arc, but she WAS front and center for all of Eddie's "performance anxiety" around dating women. Trust me, when Eddie figures it out and he and Buck finally get together, Henren will say something along these lines again, I'm certain of it.

And that's the end of this episode! It was such an emotional ride! I loved everything they did with Maddie and Chimney, and the Buddie plot was so fun! I had a blast, and I'm so excited for next week! I get the feeling the latter half of the season is gonna dive deeper into Eddie's storylines. Yay!

#911 abc #buddie #911 analysis #911 meta #buddie meta #BuckTommy #buck x eddie #meta

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lipglossanon · 1 year

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The Darkest, Most Depraved of Joys

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{next installment}

Stepbro!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ so minors DNI, stepcest, bully Leon, perv Leon, reader is a bit sassier in this so heads up I guess lol, dirty talk, slight somnophilia, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, strong breeding kink, leaning heavy into the stepcest kink so for real be prepared haha, uhh I think that’s it 🤔

Not proofread; literally banged this out in a few hours this morning 🤣

Title from Monologue by She Wants Revenge

Shoutout to all you lovely readers 😘 😘

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It’s been a few months since your mom remarried some businessman from the city who decided small town life was more his speed. Everything’s going smoothly for the most part. The only exception to your idyllic home life is the absolute terror that is now your stepbrother. Leon is the bane of your existence. He’s older by a few years and he lords it over you every second he gets. And he’s such a jerk to you.

It’s not overt bullying cause Leon doesn’t want to get in trouble, but away from prying eyes he likes to pick on you. He tugs your hair or steals whatever you have in your hand and, just in general, behaves like a complete asshole. What drives you even more crazy is he acts like a complete angel around your mom and his dad so you can’t even say anything or else get scolded.

Your mom laughs and says he’s joking, but it leaves you fuming— especially since you also find Leon ‘the asshole’ Kennedy extremely attractive. Life is so unfair. You’re sick of his bossy attitude and his stupid good looks.

Because of the utter dismissal of your mom, you’ve taken to jotting down your thoughts in a journal. A diary. Whatever.

At first it was to vent about what asinine thing Leon had done to you that day. Him purposefully taking your favorite seat on the couch so you’d have to sit in the recliner. Leon throwing his leg out just as you walk by, sending you stumbling into the wall and him smirking at your angry scowl. Volunteering you when your parents asks for suggestions on who should do dishes or the laundry.

He always seems to follow you randomly throughout the day, taunting you about your choice of wardrobe or how you try to one up him or, sadly, how single you still are. You spin around to argue with him but he just breezes past you, shoving your shoulder as he heads back to his room.

The list goes on and on. But then the venting in your journal starts to meld into a mix of how good he smells (sandalwood and vanilla) and how pretty his hair is even on those overcast drizzly days where it’s more rain than sky outside. Or how nice his arms and hands look doing something so simple as setting the table.

At some point even those diary entries devolve into how hot it would be if maybe Leon got a little physical. Maybe pushing you against the wall when no one’s looking and kisses you until you can’t breathe. Maybe he’d drag you into an empty room and convince you to give him a handy. Maybe even corral you into sucking him off or coaxing you into letting him eat you out until you cry.

After writing some of these you realize that maybe you’re a little more pent up than you thought, but then promptly shrug it off. It’s not like you’re hurting anyone.

Until one Saturday afternoon that is; you think you’re all alone and as you set your journal on your dresser, it’s yanked out of your hands.

Leon stands to your side making you realize the house is empty save you two, and dangling your diary full of unspeakable thoughts just out of your reach.

“Give it back,” you grit out, feeling that familiar rage creeping into your posture.

“Aww, upset sweetheart?” he mocks you, “I’ve always wondered what goes on in that pretty little head of yours.”

“Leon, I’m being serious, give it back.”

He smirks holding the diary up higher as you reach out on your tippy toes, hand going to his shoulder for stability.

“Nah, don’t think I will,” he presses his index and middle finger to your forehead and pushes you until you have to step back or lose your balance and fall.

“Fuck off asshole,” your voice raises, “that’s private shit. Private? I’m sure even you understand what that means”

His smirk drops and his brow furrows in irritation, “Are you insinuating I’m stupid, princess?”

You give him a sickly sweet smile, “Oh a multi syllable word? That’s a big one for ya,” you simper up at him, “do you need to sit down?”

He glares at you before a slow grin spreads across his face making your heartbeat fast.

“Well maybe some light reading might strengthen my vocabulary,” he shakes the book in his hand.

You jump up and try to make a last ditch effort in grabbing it, but he swings his arm up and out of the way.

He clicks his tongue, “Manners, sweetheart.”

You stomp your foot, “God you’re such a dickhead! Give it back!”

He sighs, “Alright,” and goes to hand it back but then yanks it away at the last minute and takes off to his room.

“I’ll have it back to you later! Thanks, princess!!”

You yell at his disappearing figure, feeling rage and embarrassment warring in your chest. Following him, you slam your fists against his locked door. After a few minutes of getting nowhere, you slowly shuffle back into your room. You might as well go dig a hole and lie in it cause anything would be better than Leon reading that damn journal.

You morosely flop face first down onto your bed. You scream into the pillow before rolling over onto your back to stare up at the glow in the dark stars that have been stuck to your ceiling since you were seven. Maybe he won’t read it all. It did start out as a hate journal so maybe after the first few entries he’ll get tired and quit reading. God you hoped so.

Sighing, you raise up and scrub your face until you feel a little less like you want to jump out a window. You scroll mindlessly on your phone, keeping an ear out for any noise coming from Leon’s room. Giving up after a few minutes, you heave a sigh and get out of your bed and make your way next door to Leon’s room.

Rapping your knuckles on the wood, you call out, “Leon, can you give me my diary back, please? I’ll.. do your chores or something.”

You hear the click of the lock being undone and the door swings inward.

“All of my chores?” he crosses his arms and props his shoulder on the doorframe, smirking at you.

You roll your eyes at how stupidly hot he’s being, but bite back your sarcasm, “Yes, all of them. Can I please have my book?”

You feel a spark of something when his eyes drag down your body and back up to your face. Leon grins at you as he straightens up from the doorframe.

Flicking your forehead, he steps back into his room, “Okay, princess. Come in and get your book and then I want you to do something for me.”

You bite your lip to stifle any complaint and rub your head as you step further into his room.

It’s similar to your own, a bed and dresser with a side door that leads to a closet. You frown to yourself; it is pretty sparse considering all the posters and photos you have tacked up on your walls.

You snap out of your thoughts when Leon waves the diary in front of your face.

“You good?”

Blinking, you scowl up at him and grab the book.

“Now I am; what do you want?”

He pouts at you mockingly, “Aww you don’t want to know what I thought about such riveting writing?”

Your heart rabbits in your chest and your palms tingle.

“You didn’t really read it, did you?”

You know your voice wavers and the mocking look on Leon’s face morphs into a sly grin.

“Don’t worry your undying hate for me will remain close to the chest,” he ruffles your hair, “after the first few pages of it, I quit reading.”

“Oh,” you duck your head and chew on your bottom lip.

Looking up again, you give him a shy smile, “Thanks, Leon.”

He stops ruffling your hair and drags his hand down to the side of your neck. He rubs his thumb over the column of your throat.

“I wouldn’t thank me just yet, sweetheart,” he presses you to step backwards until your back is touching the door.

You put your hands up on his broad chest, still clasping your diary, “W-what’re you—“

“Think this was about 20 pages in, right?” he muses, blue eyes darkening as he dips his head down to be closer to you.

The hand not gripping your neck comes up to cup your jaw, tilting your head back.

“Just let me,” he breathes out, the motion causing his lips to brush up against yours.

Your eyelashes flutter closed as he presses a searing kiss to your parted lips. He groans and kisses you harder, his body pressing yours against the door completely. You try to push him away but to no avail; his strength outmatches yours easily.

Leon moves his hands down to grab your hips, holding you still while he molds himself against you. Your hands are trapped between your chests. You can feel his dick beginning to chub in his sweats.

"Damn," he murmurs as he pulls away, grinding against you.

A soft gasp passes your lips, which he zeroes in on. Leon presses against you more firmly before slotting your mouths together. You try to push against him but can feel your resolve weakening under the constant barrage of wet, tongue filled kisses. Arousal pulses in your clit with every wet press of his mouth.

You’re finally able to pull away from his hungry mouth.

“What’re we even doing?” you gasp as his mouth finds a sweet spot on your neck.

“Just trying to make my little sis’s dirty dreams come true,” he snarks, before taking your mouth once again.

You moan, letting yourself be swept up in the sensations Leon’s bringing out in your body.

He kisses you slow and deep, tongues tasting each other before pulling away to suck on your bottom lip. He slides a hand along your thigh, caressing softly as his fingers drift closer to the apex of your thighs. You’re so wet already just from kissing him. You cant your hips towards him and his fingers brush against the zipper on your jeans.

A loud door slam pulls you both apart; you hear your mom call your name from downstairs.

Leon tugs you away from the door and into his chest. He spins you around and pulls the door open for you.

“We’ll be picking this up later, ‘kay princess?”

He smacks your ass as you cross the threshold back into the hall. You whirl around but he’s already closed the door in your face. You look down at the diary in your hand, glaring at the inanimate object.

“Unbelievable,” you mutter out loud.

Walking to your room, you toss the book onto your bed and head downstairs to meet up with your mom.

:::::::::::

The rest of the afternoon passes by pretty quickly. Luckily for you, Leon keeps to himself so you don’t see much of him until dinner. Your mom is very adamant about having dinner together as a family.

“It builds those familial bonds, honey,” she pats your cheek when you try to weasel out of it.

So here you are, sitting across from Leon, trying to eat with him staring a hole into you. When you reach for your glass to take a sip, you raise your eyebrows at him.

He smirks at you then glances at your parents; seeing that they’re not paying attention to you two, he brings his hand up to his mouth and makes a ‘V’ with his fingers and thrusts his tongue between them a few times.

You press your thighs together and glare at him. You flip him off and that’s when your mom gasps.

“No vulgar displays at the table!”

You shoot her a disbelieving look, “What? But he started it!”

“Well, that goes for both of you then,” your stepdad cuts in, “behave you two.”

You take a deep breathe and let it out slowly.

Leon laughs, “Just joking around, dad.”

Your mom smiles at him, “I’m so glad you two get along so well.”

Leon catches your eye and gives you the fakest smile, “Of course, that’s what a big brother’s for, right?”

You roll your eyes and go back to your plate.

Pushing around the food, you look over at your mom, “May I be excused?”

“Sure, honey. Just take your dishes into the kitchen.”

Nodding, you gather up everything and head into the kitchen. You scrape what food is left off in the trash and set the dishes in the sink.

You feel a line of heat press against your back, pushing your hips into the countertop. You see Leon’s hands on either side of you, holding onto the counter’s edge; his thick biceps flex as he ducks down to mouth at your neck.

“So mean to me, princess.”

Goosebumps race across your neck and down your arms from his moist breath on the shell of your ear.

“What would they think of you wanting me to stick my cock in your wet little pussy and stretch you out, hmm?”

A bolt of heat flares in your stomach, nipples hardening as you stifle a whine.

“Leon,” you whisper, “shut up, you’re gonna get us in trouble.”

He chuckles into your neck and drops a kiss on your jaw.

“What? It’s the truth; your little diary will just confirm it.”

You press back against him trying to get him to move but he just pushes against you harder, grinding his half hard dick against your ass.

“Don’t be that way,” he coos, one hand slipping from the counter to cup your hot pussy.

You gasp and toss your head back, “We’re gonna get caught.”

“So?” his voice is low and rough in your ear, “don’t want me to play with this needy cunt? C’mon baby thought that’s what you wanted?”

Using the last of your self control, you elbow him in the ribs and duck around his lax arm. You run from the kitchen to the stairs, aiming to lock yourself in your bedroom. You make it to the upper landing before Leon wraps his arms around your waist.

You squeal when he jerks you back to his hard chest.

“You little brat,” he hisses, “I’m gonna—“

“No roughhousing near the stairs,” his dad calls out from the bottom, looking up at you two.

Leon gives him a sheepish smile and drops his hold on you, “Of course, pops.”

You take this distraction for what it is and rush off to your room, shutting and locking the door. Listening, you hear Leon pause outside your door.

He lightly taps the wood, “This isn’t over, sweetheart.”

You shiver, feeling hot at those words. You hear him make his way over to his room and shut the door. Walking over, you collapse down onto your bed with a sigh. What have you gotten yourself into?

Later in the evening, you make your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth and get ready for bed. When you return to your room, it slips your mind to lock your door for the night. Tiredly, you slip under your cool sheets and drift off.

You’re slowly coming to, still half asleep. You question what woke you up and right as your about to be pulled back under, you feel a pair of hands caressing and pinching your nipples over your thin sleep shirt.

“So pretty. Pretty girl don’t even know what you do to me. These fuckin tits just begging me to play with’em.”

You hear a low voice muttering next to you. You struggle to remember who else would even be here but that’s wiped from your mind as the hands keep teasing and tugging your sensitive buds.

“God I wanna suck’em. Leave bruises all over you.”

Leon your mind supplies. You forgot to lock your door earlier.

“Always walking around the house wearing those little outfits. Practically begging me to just bend you over and fuck you til you can’t think.”

You feel a warm hand smooth up your ribs before cupping one of your breasts while the other softly pinches your nipples.

“Wha-“ you groggily reach a hand back to the body behind you.

“Shh, princess,” his low voice rumbles in your ear, “let me make you feel good.”

You sigh out in response and let him snake his other hand underneath the side you’re laying on to grope your other breast. Your nipples harden to the gentle strokes of his fingers circling the sensitive buds.

You arch your hips back to grind against the bulge pressing into your ass. Your pussy starts to leak slick into your panties.

He groans aloud and slips his hands underneath your shirt to glide fingertips across heated skin. You sluggishly shrug out of the shirt with his help. Immediately afterwards, he grabs each breast in his hands and squeezes, the fat dimpling between his fingers.

“Fuck, that’s— you’re so good,” he presses wet, open mouthed kisses on your neck and shoulder before scraping his teeth along your shoulder blade.

“C’mon, roll over for me, sweetheart.”

Your eyes are heavy with sleep but you can blearily make out his dark eyes as they drink in your half naked body.

“Gonna let me eat this pretty pussy, baby?”

You’re so tired you can only let out a low whine.

“I know, sucha sweet girl when you wanna be,” he kisses your cheek then your lips, dipping his tongue into your mouth for a quick taste before pulling away to lie between your spread legs.

He eases your panties down your legs and tosses them to the floor. You can feel how wet you are when the cool air of the room hits your pussy.

“Can’t believe you wrote all that shit down where anyone can read it,” he eyes your leaking slit hungrily before meeting your gaze with blown out pupils, “fuckin made me so hard, baby.“

“Leon,” you whisper, voice cracking in pleasure, “‘m sorry.”

He presses soft kisses to your thighs, bypassing where you most want his mouth, laying soft open mouthed kisses to your hips and lower abdomen.

“Why’re you apologizing? I think it’s hot that y’need your big brother to take care of this sopping wet pussy,” his hands are softly running up your legs, massaging the skin randomly.

“We can’t,” you whisper, pressing your hands against his head to keep him from moving, “it’s dirty. And plus don’t you have a girlfriend?”

He growls at you, “So? I’ll dump her tomorrow once I have a taste of this sweet little cunt. And it might be dirty but doesn’t it get you wet, princess? I read all about your filthy thoughts of me eating you out.”

He grins at you from between your thighs, eyes hungry, “You can even be my new girlfriend.”

Leon finally presses his lips to your mound, “And now I’m gonna eat out my girl’s pussy.”

You sigh out in pleasure as he places sloppy kisses to your clit over and over making your legs twitch. Your hands come down to tangle in his messy hair.

“Leon,” you moan, “please.”

Ignoring your urging to go lower, he laves his tongue across your pussy lips. He pulls back just to press his pouty mouth softly against the hood of your clit making you arch your hips upward with a moan.

His tongue darts out to lap at your sensitive bud before trailing down to your leaking hole. He teases his tongue around the entrance, dipping inside briefly, before pulling away to messily kiss your clit. Your thigh muscles jump underneath the palm of his broad hands. He continues to drag his lips across your aching clit, giving it soft kisses repeatedly.

“Fuck, so good,” you squeeze your eyes shut, “please Leon I need more than just kisses.”

“Nah,” his eyes darken even further, lips ticked into a mean smile, “just wanna give my girl’s pretty pussy lotsa love. She only needs my kisses.”

He presses another sloppy, spit filled kiss onto your swollen clit.

You whine pitifully, “Such a tease.”

“Oh I’m the tease?” He pulls away from your slick cunt leaving you gasping out in disagreement, “You’ve been teasing me for the longest time, princess. Wearing those slutty shorts, showing off those fucking thighs of yours.”

He shucks his sleep wear off until he’s only in his boxers. You can see a prominent wet spot where the head of his dick has been pressing against the fabric. You whine again, hands scrabbling at his forearms.

“‘m sorry Leon. I’ll be good, promise,” you pull on his arms, trying to make him move up closer, “I didn’t mean to tease.”

“I bet you didn’t,” his voice is rough, deeper than you’ve heard before, “those flimsy little tops showing me your hard fucking nipples.”

You watch as that mean expression comes back into his face. His thumb presses down on your swollen clit making you gasp in pleasure.

“But I guess that’s what slutty little sisters do to their big brothers, huh? You were just trying to get me hard so I can fuck you good later, right?”

You feel tears pooling in your waterline.

“Leon,” you hiccup, “please.”

His expression softens.

“Hey don’t worry,” he moves up to cage your head between his forearms, bent so your faces are nearly pressed together, “I’m gonna take care of you.”

You keep eye contact as you ask, “Really?”

“Yeah,” he gives you a soft look. “Gonna make you feel good.”

You bite your lip and run your hands through his hair, “Yeah? Gonna show me stepbrother’s big cock?”

“Fucking hell,” his hips grind down onto yours. You feel the scratchy material of his boxers press against your wet cunt as the heat of his cock drags across your pussy lips.

“I’m gonna fuck you hard, baby. Hope you’re ready for it,” he kisses you, thrusting his tongue into your open mouth.

Leon presses you on your back; he brings your knees up to your chest and pushes you down into the bed as he drags his thick cock across your sensitive clit.

You look down and watch as his hand wraps around his dick, pulling back the foreskin to smack at your clit and leaky hole.

“Think I’ll fit, princess?”

He’s so big but that just makes you arch your hips up, angling to get his tip to slide into your clenching hole.

“I don’t know,” you whisper, eyes watching as he glides his cock through your wet folds to tap your clit again.

“Guess we’re about to find out,” he grins.

You both moan when he presses the fat tip inside and sinks into your tight, wet cunt.

He gives you a second to adjust before pulling halfway out to slide back in your hot pussy.

“Fuck,” you pant.

Your hole stretches to accommodate the thick cock fucking into you.

“That’s it,” Leon’s raspy voice washes over your ears, “you can take it.”

You whine, “Too big.”

Your hands claw at the sheets, trying to gain purchase. Your cunt drips slick all over the bed while Leon stretches you.. filling you up so good. Sweat begins to bead up around your hairline making your hair stick to your skin.

You can’t stop clenching down on the thick length spearing you open.

“Please move,” you choke out, lifting your head to peer up at Leon’s dark stare.

“You can use your manners,” he chuckles, “aren’t you full of surprises.”

Your eyes flutter as Leon pulls out to slowly slide back in. You moan unabashedly as you’re fucked slow and deep.

“Please, please,” you chant, “so good. Feels so good.”

Leon’s hands grip your hips, fingertips digging in, “Don’t you make a pretty sight. Such a lovely hole.”

You whine as arousal pulses through you at those words.

“Please, I want more.”

“Yeah?”

“Please,” you mewl, as his thumb starts to circle your clit.

“Mmm so fucking sweet,” he moans, using one hand to hold your hips down and the other pinches and strokes your clit.

“Gonna breed this pretty little cunt,” Leon grunts as he thrusts harder into your pussy walls clamping down onto his thick cock.

“Leon,” you moan out, nails biting into his shoulders.

He grins down at you, “Yeah you like that sweetheart? Yeah you do. Want me to put a fat load deep in this tight pussy.”

Punched out moans are all you can manage as his hips piston harder into you, the wet squelching between your thighs getting louder.

“Shit so fuckin good f’me,” Leon hikes your legs up higher onto his shoulders, “gonna cum in you baby. S’what big brothers do, right?”

“What?” You choke out, feeling the tip of Leon’s dick nail that spongy spot inside you repeatedly.

“Yeah, wouldn’t dream about coming in my girlfriend, but you? My little sister? It’s the only thing to do,” his mouth drops hot, tongue filled kisses on your bite covered neck.

“Ohh,” you keen high in your throat, feeling your walls squeezing onto Leon even harder. Just the thought of him cumming inside you has your clit throbbing.

“Baby fuck yeah only wanna cum in you,” Leon slurrs, “you’ll let me right? Let your big brother fill you up? Show you how much I care.”

“Yes yes yes. Please! Want it so bad Leon.”

You’re drooling from how good he’s fucking your pussy. His fat cock bullies into your cunt on every thrust, spreading you open and filling you up.

“So wet and tight," he grits out, voice rough.

You toss your head back in pleasure, "Fuck, Leon. Your cock feels so good."

You can’t stop your hips from meeting each one of his powerful thrusts. Your pussy clenches around his dick like a vice.

He moans, "That's it, take it, such a sweet girl."

"More, please,” you pant, pushing sweaty hair away from your face.

He bottoms out in your cunt to kiss you sloppily.

“You on some kinda birth control, princess?”

You are, but a dark pulse of arousal makes you want to see what he’d do if you said no.

So, you shake your head no, “I’m not on any.”

His hips stutter and buck deeper into your squelching pussy.

“Fuck,” he’s panting, pupils blown, “really? Fucking hell. I need to—“

He moans and grinds so deep you can feel his tip kiss your cervix.

“S’okay that I don’t pull out?” He slips his cock out and slams back into your pussy, making your eyes roll back.

“But you gotta promise me not to get pregnant, yeah? Otherwise I can’t cum all in this needy little pussy. Promise me, baby and I’ll give you a nice creampie.”

Whining, your nails scratch and claw at his shoulders as Leon rails you into the bed; your bed frame is rattling and the mattress squeaking. You’ve never been more grateful your parents slept on the complete opposite side of the house.

“Promise, promise,” you gasp out.

“Hmm yeah, okay then baby. I’ll fuck you raw and cum in this little pussy. God damn,” he groans, thrusting harder, “fuck, don’t even care if I knock you up. So fucking hot.”

He fingers pick up their speed, flicking and pinching your clit as he hammers into that spongy spot in your pussy.

“I-I’m gonna cum. Leon, you’re gonna make me cum,” you mewl.

“Yeah gonna cum on your big brother’s cock?” He kisses you, tongue fucking into your mouth.

“Uh huh, yeah gonna cum all over my big brothers cock,” you whine, “oh fuck, Leon! You’re gonna have to cover my mouth.”

He grins down at you, hips pistoning harder into your pussy.

“Gonna get loud, baby? Fuck that’s so hot. C’mon cum all over my cock.”

Your eyes roll back as your thighs shake with the force of your orgasm. Leon clamps a hand over your mouth as you scream, pussy gushing and clenching around his hard cock.

“That’s it, fuck me, princess. Best pussy I’ve ever had,” he groans, “gonna cum, gonna cream this little cunt.”

He bites down on your shoulder as his dick buries itself deep in your pussy. Your still clenching walls milk his cock until you can’t feel his cum spilling inside anymore.

“God damn,” he pulls back from your neck, “sorry bout the bruise, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, “S’fine.”

He slips out of your cunt with a low hiss. Greedily, he watches as his cum drips out onto the sheets.

“Mmm so hot, baby,” he rubs the cum into your pussy lips, “do I need to get you the morning after pill?”

You laugh at him, “No, I’m on birth control.”

You laugh even harder at his scandalized expression.

“You serious?”

You nod, still giggling, “Yeah.”

He huffs a laugh and cages you in against your bed; he gives you the filthiest kiss and when he pulls away there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips.

“Fucking tease,” he drags his half hard cock over your sensitive pussy, “just means I can cum in you as much as I want though, princess.”

You moan and pull him into another hungry kiss. The kisses turn wet and sloppy, spit dripping down your chins as he sucks on your tongue.

He pulls back to take in your hazy eyes, “Give me a few and we can go again.”

You run your hands through his messy hair, “Mmm sounds good to me.”

#Stepbro!leon s kennedy #Stepbro Leon S Kennedy #Stepbro!leon #Stepbro!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #Stepbro!leon s kennedy x you #Stepcest #leon s kennedy smut #leon s Kennedy x fem!reader #Fem!reader #resident evil smut #lipglossanon

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slitheringghost · 4 months

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Voldemort Fic Recs

I meant to post this for hprecfest over four months ago, but uh... I didn't. More fic recs in Part 2 here.

The Limits Of Perception by deslea (800 words, G)

Rec: A truly fantastic character study in few words.

He meets a different kind of falsehood at school. The Pure prize the collective. They put aside their individual interests and feelings, follow codes of honour designed to protect family and name. It is still lying, but at least it is lying for something better than one's own ends. This is a kind of hypocrisy that he can tolerate, he decides.

of all my demon spirits by slashmarks (Tom & Ginny, 1.7k, T)

Rec: Ginny writes to Tom after the events of CoS. Paints a detailed picture of Tom and Ginny's relationship, and it's a great character study of Tom in addition to Ginny.

But I think maybe you were lying when you said that I was boring and stupid after all. Do you remember when we talked about the last war and I didn’t understand how anybody could think muggles were animals, because even if I don’t really know any muggles we go into the village to get groceries and stuff all the time and Mrs. Hoof keeps sweets by the counter just to give them to kids like me? You teased me about being bought with candy, but then you said the Death Eaters had to decide muggles weren’t people in order to kill them, and that really most people do that all of the time, like with house elves and stuff. You said that it was because most people are hypocrites and can’t face their real choices, but I think maybe it’s something you do, too, Tom. Maybe I had to be a boring and stupid little girl because you were about to kill me.

a shade amidst the shadowy dead by slashmarks (Tom & Cassiopeia Black, 2.4k, T)

Rec: THE Voldemort backstory of all time - Bellatrix's great-aunt Cassiopeia Black, a lesbian Dark Lord with a Muggle lover, and Tom Riddle and Bellatrix's mutual teacher and Mother Figure (TM) who they're both grieving when they meet. AKA Bellamort's very own Bathilda Bagshot.

Circling around to the potions shelving, she stopped halfway, a small twitch of a half-smile disturbing her serene face. Tom had fallen asleep with his face in a book in the armchair between bookshelves. In a moment he would wake, hearing her move. He would politely pretend he had lost track of time, and she would politely pretend to believe him. Of course, she knew perfectly well he was sleeping in the lab all the time for the summer, and she knew why. The school-leaving age in muggle Britain was fourteen, and Tom had therefore been expected to leave the orphanage two years ago.

The Shack at the End of the Lane by Asenora (Tom & Merope, 4k, G)

Rec: Voldemort’s victims meet Merope in the afterlife. A wonderful concept.

One day, a second bedroom materialised in the shack. It had white-washed walls and a black-and-white tiled floor, and contained no furniture other than a rickety iron bedstead, a wardrobe, and a hard wooden chair. She opened the wardrobe, and found nothing in it except an empty shoebox. 'This place needs some cheer,' she thought, and was unsurprised when a set of paint pots appeared in front of her.

the serpent's tale has come undone by slashmarks (Bellatrix/Voldemort, 6.2k, E)

Rec: Fantastic Voldemort POV in a Bellamort getting together fic. Slashmarks' ability to write both Voldemort's hunger for connection and intimacy and his cruelty is so impressive.

Orion Black's idiocy would be his prize, in this case. He understood what he was seeing when he looked into Bellatrix Black's cool gray eyes and the mind beyond them. He would gratefully use what Orion Black had discarded or overlooked as essentially worthless; or at least, not worthy of his attention and maintenance. He knew that pureblood men were often idiots about women, but sometimes the boundless capacity for it in otherwise intelligent ones surprised him. - Moreover... He had wanted family as a student, he remembered that; something to replace the loss that had occurred at and before his birth, someone to claim him, someone who would defend his interests and give him something to defend. He had the Death Eaters as the closest possible thing now. The demands marriage would have made on him would not be... tenable.

endless nights took on my whole life by slashmarks (Bellatrix/Voldemort, Voldemort & Rodolphus, Bellatrix & Rodolphus, Sirius & Bellatrix, 12.4k, M)

Rec: My absolute favorite Tom Riddle POV. A HILARIOUS Voldemort and Rodolphus dynamic in addition to a wonderful Bellamort.

Bellatrix was a new experience for Tom, as something of a kindred spirit. Abraxas might be the closest thing Tom would admit to a brother, but he had no real patience for magical theory or interest in it beyond utilitarian concerns, and Reinhard was simply too nice a person, deep down, a condition even the Lestranges had never cured him of. Bellatrix, though, was capable of sharing everything for the first time: she could keep up with him intellectually, she was as fascinated by magic as him, and any squeamish bone had long ago been extracted. Best of all, she shared Tom Riddle's fervent loathing for every aspect of magical Britain's society and his desire to personally torture to death most of the Wizengamot, which Tom had always known better than to fully express even to Abraxas.

The Edge of Reality by deslea (Bellatrix/Voldemort, 4k, E)

Rec: Fascinating exploration of the Death Eater cult and initiation.

To ensure their continued loyalty, they must be given a new family and future, better than the one they have agreed to cast away. When this is achieved, in his experience, they will do virtually anything in his service. Their loyalty to old laws and values and connections is either severed, or so conditional as to be irrelevant. It is a delicate exercise, carried out with an intricate blend of Legilimency and plain old-fashioned manipulation. It is magic at its finest.

'The son and heir of nothing in particular by @artemisia-black (2.6k, M)

Rec: Beautifully written, and I love Tom's musings on London in this fic.

But unlike the damp which pervaded the orphanage in the depths of winter, this scent did not evoke desperation and destitution. It did not remind him of scratchy government-issued pinafores and the flavourless soups that the matron insisted warded off the flu. No, this damp smelled different. It smelled of ancient, untapped magic. But most importantly, it smelled like home.

The Velveteen Rabbit by Asenora (Tom & Mrs. Cole, Tom & Merope, 3k, G)

Rec: A unique take on Mrs. Cole and Tom's relationship, and a heartbreaking young Tom.

It’s just about pride - when he’s hurt, when one of the bigger lads punches him in the face, he won’t give anyone the satisfaction of knowing. He just watches, his face completely unmoving, staring whoever's attacked him down until they're the one that's frightened, and then whirling off triumphantly, with his chin in the air. But, if you know where to look, you can find him a wee while later curled up in a corner of the orphanage where nobody usually goes, running his fingers over his black eye or bruised jaw like he could cure the injury by magic, muttering words of comfort to himself, telling himself he’s all he needs, and he’ll be alright, and he will always, always manage to survive.

My True Family: Voldemort and Family Connections by slashmarks (Meta, 3k)

Rec: Cheating ‘cause this isn’t a fic, but a must-read essay that challenges the idea of an inhuman Voldemort who can’t love.

Voldemort immediately knows how to lure Harry to the Department of Mysteries when curiosity isn't enough: a threat to Sirius Black will be enough, and it is. Sirius is not only Harry's only remaining magical family, but he represents a hope Tom Riddle once shared, and once was equally disappointed in: a magical guardian who would take either boy away from the muggle world and status as a friendless orphan.

In Place And Blood. by Lanna Michaels (Tom & Merope, 2.3k, G)

Rec: Tom raised by Merope still becomes Voldemort and this time his motivation is solely revenge on purebloods for his mother.

That night, for the first time, he shares a room with six other boys, five of them purebloods, and he wants to murder them where they sleep. He doesn't know how to do it, but he has ideas. They all deserve it. They deserve it for what they did to his mother. Purebloods had left his mother friendless, a disgrace, had thrown her out and left her to die and her son with her. Tom is going to make sure they live to regret it. Tom is going to make every one of them regret it.

if the sea were sand alone by Anonymous (Tom & Dumbledore, 12.8k, G)

Rec: A gorgeous and heartbreaking what-could-have-been for the Dumbledore and Tom relationship, the starting point being Slughorn comes to the orphanage to introduce the magical world to Tom instead of Dumbledore.

"I wanted to kill them," he said. "They left me there. All those years, and my father, and my grandparents, they left me there. The last thing my mother said to him was, 'What about the baby?' and the last thing he said to her--" He cut himself off. There was so much pain etched into his face that Albus shuffled off the bed, and, standing over him, pulled his head to his chest like he was still a small child. He had felt abandoned, once. It was a wound that had never truly healed, and it had taken him years to realize the extent of the damage.

More fic recs are in Part 2 of rec list here.

#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #lord voldemort #voldemort #tom riddle meta #voldemort meta #hp meta #hp fic recs #bellatrix lestrange #bellatrix black #albus dumbledore #rodolphus lestrange #riddledore #bellamort #ginny weasley #merope gaunt #voldemort fic recs #tom riddle fic recs #my fic recs

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welcometothejianghu · 11 months

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Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 鬓边不是海棠红/Winter Begonia

Winter Begonia is the tale of the intertwined lives of a wealthy, westernized businessman and a bratty, dramatic Peking Opera performer as they navigate the historical landscape of 1930s China.

It is a slow historical ramble of a show, to the point where I couldn't really say it has a single plot. Events just happen in their lives, and the show follows them with a pleasant steadiness. Characters go away, and sometimes they come back. Interpersonal conflicts rise and then get resolved. Sometimes you just get to sit and watch part of an opera happen. The last third of the show develops a slightly more cohesive narrative, but even then, it's still mostly a loose constellation of events related to larger goings-on in the culture.

So if you're looking for tight plots and fast-paced action, you'll want to look somewhere else. But if you're the kind of person who likes to wrap up sometimes in a gentle warm blanket of a beautiful show, I have five reasons you should give this one a try.

1. Oh, they're in love

Perhaps the most notable thing about Cheng Fengtai and Shang Xirui is that they spend the entire show smiling at one another, staring longingly at one another, and/or making each other laugh.

A lot of danmei couples depend on having at least one partner who, if not outright tsundere, is at least stoically long-suffering -- which is romantic, sure, but also exhausting in real life. These two read about as married as any danmei pair I've ever seen because they make one another smile all the time. They're incredibly touchy and affectionate from basically the moment they meet. They're not just in love, they actually like one another.

Now, don't get me wrong: These two are both absolute exhausting gremlins who deserve one another so they don't have to be anyone else's problems. But they're good-natured enough about their respective gremlin natures that when one of them lets loose with his rascality, the other tends to think it's hilarious.

They don't even have the mandated danmei breakup! They're never mad at one another for more than the length of an episode. Most of the time they're just refreshingly normal about one another (or, you know, about as normal as two drama queens can be). And when they're being not normal about one another, it's because the circumstances they are currently enduring are not normal either.

They're so in love that by the time you get to the last episode, everyone in their lives is like, gee, those two sure are in love. For the main couple in a Chinese-censored BL adaptation? That's pretty darn in love.

2. The costumes!!!

Of course I have to gush over the costumes. Several major characters are professional opera performers, and their wardrobes are just stunning in complexity and detail -- and accuracy, apparently.

But they're not even where all of the wardrobe budget went! Everyone looks great, from the dapper upper class to the household servants to the street performers.

I also can't get over how everyone looks so cozy in their winter outfits. The show really wants to hammer home how cold Beijing is, and so most non-opera clothes are either heavily quilted or furry. Not a single outfit in this show is slimming (except maybe for some of the gorgeous gowns Cheng Meixin wears). It's all about conserving body heat, which means a lot of people walk around basically wearing mildly tailored quilts all the time. I love it. I envy it.

3. Oops! All bottoms!

This is a show of very soft men. It helps that very many of them have spent their whole lives playing female roles, but even those that haven't tend to be pretty darn soft.

(And I'm not even talking about the way people keep handing Cheng Fengtai babies and he loves it.)

Du Luocheng and Shang Xirui are absolutely what happens when you get two soft gay guys who are kinda into one another, but they're both too lazy to top, so they just become best friends instead.

Fan Lian stands as a testament to how you can be the only heterosexual in the show and still be soft as hell.

The old married gays. Softness level: off the charts.

Chen Renxiang's role is that of the opera frenemy, and he's incredibly soft about it. (This actor is also apparently in the Sha Po Lang live-action adaptation! Maybe someday it will be released...)

Opera underling La Yuehong hardens up later in the show, but even when he does, there's still a tragic softness to it.

Even the baddies are soft! Pretty much all the rival opera bitches fall into the "love to hate" category -- and nearly all of them win at least some sympathy from you before they leave the story for good.

There's one more soft boy whose presence surprised me, and that is Xue Zhicheng/Kujo Kazuma, a sympathetic Japanese character. Every other Japanese character in the show is sinister somehow -- not surprising, considering the drama is set during the brutal Japanese occupation of Beiping/Beijing.

But this little guy is a gentle, well-meaning opera fan who just wants to watch his favorite performers! When his actions cause trouble, it's only because he's so well-meaning that he couldn't see how anyone could disapprove of his attempts at cross-cultural undertanding. He even comes to the rescue a few times, at significant personal cost!

Moreover, the show uses him to make it clear that there's a difference between the Japanese occupying force and Japanese people and culture. In fact, the show is pretty critical of people who conflate the two and use interest in the latter as evidence of support of the former. That is not a level of nuance I've seen from other dramas set in this time period, and I was pleased to see it.

In conclusion, the critial war shortage in 1930s Beijing was not food or medicine or ammunition, but tops.

4. A whole lotta ladies

Again, not even counting the fact that one of the two main guys, many of his buddies, all of his heroes, and several of the antagonists professionally dress as women.

The most notable of them is Cheng Fengtai’s wife, Fan Xiang'er. They've been married for years by the time the show starts, and they have a son together. Theirs is an arranged marriage that they've managed to make work so well that they've actually wound up liking one another ... most of the time. Remember what I said earlier about his being exhausting? She knows that better than anyone.

(Sidebar: If you are uncomfortable with a love story where one of the participants is canonically married to someone else, this may be one you want to skip. That said, there are several male characters in this show who have multiple wives and/or mistresses, so the metric of what counts as infidelity in this setting is ... loose.)

Beyond her, though, there are many more female supporting characters in this show, from all different socioeconomic levels, in all different kinds of situations.

A caveat: Some of the women (one in particular) are at times frustrating as hell because they're too often written as jealous shrews who believe all the terrible gossip they hear and act on it without having actual adult conversations with anyone first. I dislike this trope, mostly because it relies on making some smart women artificially very stupid for the sake of forwarding the plot. I have little patience for situations that could have been solved five episodes ago if somebody had just been willing to ask clarifying questions.

That said, I can't be too mad about that, because there are many, many more women who are not written like that. Some of them are good and loyal! Some are sneaky and self-interested! Some are callous and manipulative! Some are meek and traumatized! Some make terrible decisions! Some make terrible decisions but, like, you get it! You know, just like in real life?

The answer to better representation is almost always more representation. When a character is the only one of whatever they are, everything they do is kind of an indictment of that category, especially when that category has a history of stereotypical negative representation. When there are several others, the characters stop being representatives of that category and start being just plain characters.

5. It just feels good to watch

Don't misunderstand: This is not a happy fun time show where everything in sunshine and roses all the way down. There are plenty of tense and emotional parts. Not everyone we like makes it out of the drama alive. Not all love stories get a happily ever after. People disappoint one another all the time. Awful things happen when soldiers occupy civilian populations. Poverty is a bitch.

But the show itself remains a nice viewing experience. It's absolutely a feast for the senses, what with all the music and costumes and sets and props and old-fashioned cars and everything.

The story is very straightforward. It's never trying to do any complex schemes or mislead you before some big reveal. I imagine this could be a good show to put on in the background while you're doing something else. You're never going to be too desperately confused about what's going on if you zone out for a minute -- and if you are, just hang on for a bit, because by next episode, it'll probably be onto whatever storyline comes next.

I have not read the novel, and I cannot judge anything against its standards. However, my friend who has read parts of the novel tells me that the adaptation is much preferable, because in the novel, you get to hear everyone's internal narration -- and everyone's internal narration makes it clear they're all bratty, insufferable assholes. That is not the case here! Or, rather, they are often bratty and/or insufferable, but from outside their heads, it's a lot more charming.

Finally, it's legitimately a very good love story. Shang Xirui is the only person in Cheng Fengtai's life who loves him for who he is, not what someone else needs him to be. Cheng Fengtai goes from being enraptured by this beautiful little weirdo to basically wanting to wife him. They spend a lot of time taking care of one another, sometimes in the only ways they know how. They're capable of operating independently -- there are several episodes where their storylines diverge completely -- but they'd prefer not to. They've just each found their soulmate, and that's all there is to it. (The red thumbprint in the palm is about the most romantic thing I've ever seen.)

I'm a little surprised by how little I hear English-speaking fandom talk about this one, especially since (see below) it's a widely available, high-budget show that even has a Shang Xirui figurine, and there's no question about how in gay love these two are. But if you hop over to AO3, there's only 257 works total in the Winter Begonia tag, a scant 57 of which are in English, and if you've tried looking into the Winter Begonia tag on Tumblr, you know it's pretty quiet 'round here.

I can't be sure, but I'd assume that's partly because this is both a) a relatively low-stakes drama, and b) so enmeshed with actual historical events and concepts that you'd have to do at least a baseline amount of research before making any fan media. I would imagine that for some folk, this is a barrier to entry.

And it is 49 slow, gentle episodes long. I saw Tumblr posts asking which episodes are important, because the posters don't want to or can't commit to watching the whole thing. But the answer is ... all of them? none of them? There's no plot you'd be getting or missing with specific episodes. There are very few things I can think of that would even qualify as spoilers. It's just a walk through a couple very eventful years in the main pair's lives. I understand if folk aren't up for that, but if you are, this is really a gem.

Have I convinced you to give it a try?

I would say that Winter Begonia is perhaps the most easily watchable of any c-drama I've come across. Here's where you can find it:

iQiyi

Viki

Amazon Prime

YouTube

We watched most of it on YouTube, where the subs were perfectly fine. However, there was one episode where we had to switch platforms because the English subs were all out of synch, so we went to Amazon and they were fine there too. Other than that, I don't really have a sense of which translation experience is the best. Try them all!

(PS: If you feel like putting on a tinfoil hat, I'm just going to say, they look at one another like that in real life, too.)

#winter begonia #i made this #鬓边不是海棠红 #rec post

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xiaq · 1 year

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Steddie outsider POV fic Pt. 4

AO3 Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3

Eddie watches Steve leave the hospital room and Will watches Eddie watch Steve leave.

The longing is familiar. Will thinks—he hopes—that he hides his inadvisable crush a little better. Then again, Will is not currently high as a kite on painkillers recovering from a near-fatal injury. Eddie probably can’t help the way he looks at Steve right now.

“Are you in love with him?” Will asks. It’s maybe unfair to ask, all things considered. They barely know each other. But if Eddie is like him; if Eddie knows, he’d give anything to find someone to talk to. To see himself in. Especially someone like Eddie.

Eddie closes his eyes.

He doesn’t answer for several seconds. When he does, it's resigned. “Maybe.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Will says, because he’d want to hear it.

Eddie opens his eyes to roll them. “I know, kid. You ain’t too subtle either.” He makes a moue of distaste. “And you have shit taste in men. You could absolutely do better. At least I chose a suitably gorgeous out-of-my-league object of worship. If you’re going to pine after someone unattainable, have the self-respect to pick a really,” he sighs, the roll of words slowing to a crawl, “really impressive specimen.”

“Hey. I do not have—I think you’re hot.”

“You’re just confirming my point,” he says, gesturing to his admittedly pretty battered face. “Shit taste in men.”

Will feels like he should probably tell Eddie not to talk about himself like that, but he’s never been good at stuff like this.

“Steve has been here every day,” Will points out.

“Because we bonded through trauma and he thinks he owes me for valiantly saving Henderson’s life at the near expense of my own. We all know Dustin is his favorite.”

“I’m just saying. My situation is hopeless. I know that. Yours might not be.”

“Please stop talking, Byers.”

“Sorry. Can I ask about something else?”

“Sure kid.” Eddie sounds exhausted.

“When did you know? That you were—uh.”

“When didn’t I know,” he mutters. “I don’t think I ever had the luxury of not knowing.”

“But you’re so…”

Will gestures at him: the bandana holding back his curls, the rings and the nail polish and the oversized Metallica shirt Steve had cut down the back and added a safety pin fastening to at the top so the nurses still had easy access for bandage changes.

“You’re so cool. Different. Loud. And the guys said you aren’t afraid of anything. That you’ll get in jocks’ faces and make speeches standing on cafeteria tables. How do you do that without being afraid?”

“Being afraid of what?” Eddie asks, “Afraid if I’m noticeable people might notice? That I’m gay?”

He says it so easily. Will has never even said the word out loud. “Yeah.”

Eddie shifts, wincing, as he reaches to scratch his chin. “I was never good at being subtle, is the thing. So I didn't have much of a choice. But in middle school I started getting into fights. Because people suspected. By high school I figured if people were going to stare I’d give them a reason before they could make their own. It was—”

He drops his hand, flexing his fingers, considering the rings on them.

“It was sort of like designing a character. Except the character was myself. The summer before freshman year, my uncle took me to Indy and we hit all the thrift stores. Found me a whole new wardrobe, and he taught me to sew to customize some vests. I figured it’d be easier to BS my way through acting brave if I looked the part.”

“And that worked?”

“It worked,” Eddie agrees quietly, attention still on his hands. “Maybe a little too well.”

“Huh.”

Will touches the slightly jagged line of his hair. He tugs the collar of his shirt and studies the scuffed toes of his sneakers. “If I wanted to do something like that, would you help me?”

“Of course,” Eddie says. “Yeah, of course. Just say when.”

***

Three months later, Will drives to Eddie’s trailer in his shiny new bribe-from-the-government car and knocks on the door.

There’s a crash, a muffled thump, and then Eddie hissing, “Ow, fuck—no don’t, I’m fine, just stay––I know, but hold on. I think it’s one of the kids.”

“Uh…Eddie?” Will calls. “Are you ok?”

“Fine! Totally fine. One second.”

And then Eddie is wrenching open the door just wide enough that he can poke his head out. His mouth is red. His face is flushed. He’s wearing jeans that are neither buttoned or zipped and it is readily apparent that there’s no underwear underneath them. Will drags his attention back up to Eddie’s face, probably slower than he should, but Eddie is hot, even with––maybe especially with––all his scars. Sue him.

“Hi,” Eddie says, more a panted exhalation than an actual word. “What’s up?”

“Hi.”

Will may have woefully nonexistent sexual experience, but he knows what a hickey looks like. And Eddie has…a lot of them. He has like, an entire necklace of hickies.

Eddie frowns at him, follows the direction of his attention, and then brings up a hand to cover his throat. “Oh, you motherfucker,” he mutters.

“Sorry?”

“No no, not you.”

“I can…come back later,” Will says. “If you’re doing something else.”

He thinks he hears muffled laughter from inside.

Eddie sighs. “It’s fine.” he glances behind him, running a harried hand through his even-wilder-than-normal hair. “My boyfriend is here, but he can wait.”

“Oh. Oh.” Will is sort of dumbfounded that Eddie found someone in Hawkins. Maybe he’s not from Hawkins. Maybe he’s visiting from somewhere else? “That’s great. That’s really great, Eddie. But what about––”

“SO,” Eddie says loudly, before Will can say Steve’s name, “why is it that you’ve graced my humble abode with your presence, Will the Wise?”

“Um,” Will says. “You know that thing we talked about, in the hospital?”

“We talked about numerous and sundry things in the the hospital.”

“About not being afraid anymore. About giving people something to look at.”

Eddie’s expression softens. “I do.”

“I think I’m ready to not be afraid anymore. But I need help.”

“I see. How wild are we getting here, kid?”

“Hair and clothes. And maybe…I was thinking maybe get my ear pierced.”

Eddie whistles. “I’m honored you’ve selected me to accompany you on this journey. Is there anyone else you want to join the party?”

“I was thinking maybe Steve. Except he wasn’t home when I went by earlier. I thought I saw his car parked a few houses down from here, though. He might be at Max’s.”

Eddie presses his palms together like he’s praying, and touches pursed lips to his index fingers. “Give me a minute,” he says. And abruptly disappears behind a slammed door.

There’s frantic whispering, a choked off laugh, and then the door is being pulled open again by—

Steve.

“Holy shit,” Will says.

Steve is also shirtless; his pants are at least buttoned. His chest looks like it’s been clawed by an Eddie-sized cat, though.

Will tries to tell his dick that the situation is mortifying, not sexy. His dick does not agree.

“So,” Steve clears his throat. “Impromptu trip to Indy?”

“We’ve both got work tomorrow,” Eddie says, “but Saturday?”

“Yeah,” Will agrees.

He can’t stop staring at Steve’s arm, curled proprietarily around Eddie’s waist; at Eddie’s hand resting on Steve’s wrist, like he’s not even conscious of its placement. Will wants that. He wants it so bad it winds him.

“Hey. Don’t make that face,” Eddie says, like he knows exactly what Will is thinking. He probably does. “You’re sixteen. You’ve got time. Hardly anyone ends up with their highschool crush. I’m an outlier.”

“And no offense dude, but Mike?” Steve says, “You could totally do better.”

“That’s what I said!”

“Hold on,” Steve backtracks, turning to look at Eddie. “I was your teenage crush?”

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “What? No.”

“That’s literally what you just said.”

“We really need to get you back to that concussion doctor,” Eddie says, “because clearly you’re hearing things, and auditory hallucinations are very concerning.”

“Hey,” Will interrupts.

Those both turn back to look at him.

“I’m driving,” he says, trying to sound firm. “I’ll pick you both up here at 9am on Saturday.”

“You’re assuming I’ll already be here?” Steve asks.

“Won’t you?” Will argues.

“I like this assertiveness, Byers,” Eddie says approvingly. “A+ start. But maybe you pick us up at ten.”

“Nine,” he repeats. “See you then.”

He nods decisively and turns to walk back through the yard.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve mutters behind him. “These kids are going to kill me.”

“Shut up, you love them,” Eddie says, and then, louder, “Hey Byers, keep this to yourself, will you? At least for now.”

Will holds out his hand, thumb up.

When he gets back in the car, Will puts in a Dio tape and cranks up the volume. He grins all the way home.

***

Will arrives at the final Hellfire club meeting of the summer wearing a cropped Black Sabbath shirt, ripped jeans that rival Eddie’s, and shitkicker boots that were well worth the eye-watering amount of money he paid for them. His hair is fresh-shaved on the sides and slicked back on top. The guys are mostly used to his new look by now but Max and El both give him appreciative once-overs that are gratifying.

“Bitchin,” El says approvingly.

Will’s attention doesn’t linger on Mike. Doesn’t look for his specific reaction. It hurts less to look at him, now; gets easier every day to see him and El and not feel like their affection is engineered to hurt him. It helps that he’s gone back to Indy twice since he went with Steve and Eddie. He’s still too baby-faced to get into the bars, but he can wander through the record stores and thrift shops in the neighborhood. Sit in a cafe where no one knows him or his name. Flirt, carefully, while bumming a cigarette from a cute guy with a bandana in his pocket. The world is so much bigger than Hawkins. And he’s going to see it one day.

However, he’s still stuck there for two more years, and he plans to make the best of his time. Exhibit A: Today is both the end of Eddie’s final campaign, and the day in which Eddie selects his successor as dungeon master.

Will thinks, maybe, it might be him. He wants it to be him.

Except when he gets to the basement, there’s no sign of Eddie. And Eddie is never late.

“Has anyone talked to him today?” Dustin asks. He’s pacing.

No one has.

“Have you tried calling him?” Will asks.

“Yeah.”

“Have you tried calling Steve?”

“Why would I call Steve?”

“Maybe just try? They’ve been hanging out a lot recently.”

Max meets his eyes and Will gets the distinct feeling she knows.

Dustin stomps up the stairs, then back down again a minute later.

“No one picked up at Steve’s house either.”

“Robin?” El suggests.

Dustin groans and heads back upstairs.

“No,” he yells down. “Any other suggestions?”

“Family Video,” Lucas shouts.

“Or the garage!” Mike says.

Dustin has a muffled conversation first with someone who is clearly neither Steve nor Robin at Family Video, and then a longer conversation with someone else at the garage. It’s full of stops and starts and anxious-sounding questions.

“Guys,” Dustin says, coming back down the stairs. “I think Eddie and Steve might be in trouble.”

“I’ll drive,” Will says.

They’re piled in the car and tearing off toward the garage in a matter of minutes.

“Tell me again what he said,” Max demands.

“Jason Carver and some of the guys came in to drop off a car and they were harassing Eddie last week. Since then, they’d been waiting in the parking lot across the street sometimes when Eddie got off work. So Steve has been picking him up.”

“Okay but what about today?”

“He didn’t know!” Dustin’s voice cracks in Will’s ear where he’s leaned forward over the center console from the back seat. “He said that Eddie came in to work a few hours in the morning and Steve picked him up. That Jason and his friends may have followed them but he wasn’t certain.”

“What time?”

“Over an hour ago.”

“Shit.”

“Where would they go? If they’re not at their houses?”

“The quarry,” Will says. “Or skull rock.”

“Why would they go there?” Dustin shrieks.

Will meets Max’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

He abruptly changes course.

Quarry first.

His stomach goes sour when they round the corner. Because there are two vehicles at the quarry. One is Steve’s BMW. There’s a rucked quilt on the hood and one glass coke bottle tangled in it, tipped on its side, staining the floral fabric. A second bottle is on the ground, shattered by the front tire. Steve’s keys are laying in the gravel next to the broken glass.

The second vehicle, parked at a haphazard angle beside it, is Jason Carver’s truck. All four doors are open. The engine is still running. The radio is still on. But there are no people to be seen.

“Oh no,” Dustin says. “Oh no, no, no. This is not good.”

“Shit,” Lucas says, “shit, ok. So they probably ran for the woods, right? Do we have any weapons?”

“Lucas,” El says.

“Ok, obviously you. But we’re going to have to split up to search for them and the rest of us can’t exactly defend ourselves with our minds.”

Will pops the trunk.

And gets out the bat.

He’d felt kind of ridiculous when he’d made it, carefully hammering nails into the wood until it looked like Steve’s. He hadn’t even practiced with it or anything before he’d put it in the trunk with the first aid kit and the jumper cables and the tire iron: all things he’d hoped he’d never have occasion to use. He’s grateful for it now as he swings it experimentally.

“Dude,” Lucas says.

“Nice,” Max says. She takes the tire iron.

“Let’s go,” Will says.

***

It probably shouldn’t come as a surprise that Will is the one who finds them.

It feels right, all things considered. Less Deus Ex Machina and more destiny.

Eddie is on the ground and Steve is standing over him, arms out, like he can protect him from Jason––Jason who is pointing a gun at Steve's chest, while his three goons are circled around them, watching.

A gun. God, it’s almost insulting. The very idea that a gun might be the thing to end one of their lives.

Steve’s voice is low and frantic.

And Will is angry.

He knows he should be scared. Maybe he is. But he’s faced far worse that Jason fucking Carver. And when he looks at Jason he sees Lucas’ battered face and Max’s casts. He sees every bully with straight teeth and a letterman jacket that ever shoved him in a hallway.

The hand not holding the bat curls into a fist.

“Hey,” he shouts, and stalks forward.

“Stop right there,” Carver says, swinging around wildly to take aim at him.

“Or what?”

“Do you not see the gun in my hands?”

“Yeah, you see the bat in mine?”

He keeps walking.

“You think I’m joking?” Carver’s arm is shaking.

“You think shooting me will work?” Will shouts back, heart loud in his ears, but voice shockingly cavalier, “I came back from the dead once, maybe I’ll do it again.”

He keeps walking.

“What the fuck,” one of the guys says, “is that Beyers?”

“Jason,” another one says, “Jason, come on, this isn’t what we talked about. Harrington and now the Beyers kid? You can’t––”

“Shut up,” Carver yells.

Will keeps walking.

He brings his free hand to his mouth and whistles. Loud. Piercing. Something the party had practiced until they all could do it three summers before.

He immediately gets three whistles back.

“Over here!” he shouts. He stops walking just within range of Carver.

He plants his feet. He taps the bat against the side of one boot.

“You’re about to be outnumbered,” he says.

“Fuck man,” one of the guys says. “I’m out.” And with the sudden departure of one, the rest follow. Including, after a moment, Jason himself. He starts with a few steps backward, then his arm drops to his side and he scrambles into a run.

Steve watches them until they’re out of sight, and then he’s collapsing like a puppet whose strings have been cut, reaching for Eddie as Eddie reaches for him, colliding in a tangle of desperate hands.

“Are you okay?” they demand of each other, and then, after a moment of frantic reassurances, they turn to face Will.

“Jesus Christ, kid,” Steve says, eyes on the bat. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“Gee, can’t imagine where he learned it from,” Eddie mutters, spitting blood as they struggle to their feet. Steve doesn’t look to be in much better shape than Eddie but at least his face is mostly unscathed.

“Oh, don’t even try to pin this on me.” Steve wraps one arm around Eddie’s waist to keep him upright and throws out the other to gesture half-heartedly at Will. “Look at him.”

“Well sure, but I don’t go around with a fucking nail-bat in my trunk and I sure as hell don’t provoke people when I’m up against stupid odds unlike some dipshits who have no appreciation for their own mortality.”

“The safety was on,” Will points out. He whistles again. Three whistles back again, this time accompanied by shouting.

“What?” Eddie says.

“Jason,” Will says. “The gun he was holding. The safety was on. I definitely could have hit him before he could have shot me.”

Eddie lets out a hysterical little laugh.

He trips on something and nearly takes Steve down with him.

“Whoa, hey.” Steve hoists him back up as Max and Lucas come stumbling through the undergrowth.

“Oh shit,” Lucas says, “guys, are you ok?”

“Peachy keen,” Eddie warbles.

Steve uses his shirt to wipe blood off Eddie’s upper lip. Will thinks his nose might be broken.

“Hey, look at me,” Steve says. “How’s your head?”

“Fucked,” Eddie groans. “Probably still better than yours, though, sweetheart. Should change your name to King of Brain Damage.” He blinks blearily at Steve, smiling through pink-stained teeth. “ Or maybe King of pretty eyes.”

“Stop trying to flirt when you’re concussed.”

Dustin crashes into the clearing next, throwing himself at Steve and Eddie and nearly dumping them back onto the ground with his exuberance.

And then El and Mike are there and Will is handing his bat to Lucas and pulling Eddie’s other arm over his shoulder, nodding to Steve as they move forward.

“Hospital?” He asks.

“No,” Eddie whines between them.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “And we gotta call Hopper to come get pictures and take our statements.”

“Hopper is gonna kill us,” Mike sighs.

“Nah,” Steve says. “But Joyce might kill Jason for pointing a gun at Will.”

“...do we have to tell them that part?” Will asks.

“Play stupid games, win stupid prizes,” Steve says.

Will sighs.

It’s going to be a long night.

Ten minutes later, they stumble out of the trees and make their way down the quarry rim to the cars. Carver’s truck is gone.

“Will,” Steve says, “you mind driving us?”

Will glances across Eddie’s ducked head to meet Steve’s eyes. “Sure.”

“You’re going to let someone else drive the BMW?” Dustin says incredulously. “You never let anyone else drive the BMW.”

“Special circumstances,” Steve says. “Hey, Sinclair. You got your permit, right?”

Lucas looks like this might be the best day of his life.

“Yeah,” he says breathlessly. “Passed with flying colors.”

“Be still my heart,” Eddie croons, “for King Steve cannot bear to be separated from his humble bard.”

“Bard, sure,” Steve mutters, “humble, not so much.”

“You wound me, sire. And on my deathbed too?”

“You’re not dying,” Steve argues, aggrieved. “Hold on.” He opens the back car door and Will helps Steve slide Eddie inside.

“I can sit with him,” Dustin says. “If you still want to drive, I mean.”

“No,” Steve says. “It’s fine.”

“We cannot be parted!” Eddie shouts from inside, “For Lo! Young we are and yet have stood like planted hearts in the great Sun of Love so long (as two fair trees in woodland or in open dale stand utterly entwined and breathe the airs and suck the very light together) that we have become as one, deep rooted in the soil of Life and tangled in the sweet growth!”

“Is that…” Dustin bends, hands on his knees, to frown at Eddie. “Why are you quoting Tolkien’s wedding vows?”

“Boys are so stupid,” Max says. “No offense, Will.”

“None taken,” Will murmurs.

“No offense Will?”” Lucas repeats.

Steve exhales loudly, eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose, but he’s smiling. He crawls into the back seat, pulling Eddie’s head into his lap. He runs his fingers, gentle, through the mess of Eddie’s hair. He smooths his thumb against the quickly swelling curve of his cheekbone.

“Wait,” Lucas says. “Wait, wait, wait. Are they––”

“Uh,” Mike says.

“So stupid,” Max repeats, stooping to pick up Steve’s key’s from the ground. She tosses them to Lucas. “Come on, let’s go. We can deal with your complete inability to see what’s right in front of your faces at the hospital.”

Will agrees. Dustin slides into the passenger seat of Will’s car, still spluttering, as Will is buckling his seatbelt. He starts the engine.

He glances in the rearview mirror just in time to see Steve duck to press his lips to the mangled bridge of Eddie’s nose; to see Eddie’s grin in response.

“Wedding vows, huh,” Steve murmurs.

“I’m concussed,” Eddie says primly, “I’m out of my mind.”

“On that we’re agreed,” Steve says, but he’s looking down at him with such fondness it makes Will feel like a voyeur.

He suppresses a smile of his own and puts the car in drive, turning up the radio over Dustin’s demands for details.

If he wasn’t before, Will is definitely going to be Eddie’s choice for dungeon master, now. Did Dustin save Eddie’s life by threatening Jason Carver with a nail bat while Jason Carver was pointing a gun at his face? No. No he did not.

Will did.

Pt. 5 (Tommy Hagan)

#steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #stranger things #myfic #promtps #will byers

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natrogersfics · 4 months

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The Anthology - Chapter 5: imgonnagetyouback

Artwork by @faith2nyc Read on AO3

“Think you’ll make it up to Ontario anytime soon?”

“Hopefully,” Steve says, catching the way his words cause a glimmer of hope to flash across Sharon’s face. “I know who my first call will be if I do.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Sharon says, rising from the bar stool and leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Take care, Steve.”

“You too, Sharon.”

As Sharon disappears into the crowd, his eyes scan the room where the wrap party is still in full swing. Today marked the last of their double-digit hour workdays, and if the lively scene unfolding before him is any indication, it’s evident that he’s not alone in his relief to have those behind him. Over on the corner, the Russos and the stunt crew are huddled over a table playing what he can only guess is their nth round of Uno. Not too far away, Kevin stands in conversation with the wardrobe team, no doubt thanking and praising them for a job well done. And at the center of the dance floor, commandeering most of the attention in the room, Sam and Bucky trade dance moves to the delight of the crowd that’s gathered around them.

He shakes his head in amusement, feeling the warmth of gratitude permeate through him as he brings his beer bottle up to his lips to take a swig. He had spent more time with these people than he had with his own family over the last few months, witnessed them pour their blood, sweat, and tears to ensure their movie could be as successful as it could be. To now see everyone euphoric with joy and deservedly celebrating the fruits of their labor feels like nothing short of a gift.

Well, everyone except one, he realizes.

His gaze goes from one end of the room to the other in search of that ever familiar figure, and despite how trying their situation has been, he finds himself disappointed when he doesn’t find her. Maybe she didn’t come. In the last few weeks, she’s never spent a minute longer on set than she’s absolutely had to. It only made sense that she’d take the first opportunity to get away from all of this.

From you.

It’s with a sigh that he pushes off the bar, batting away the intrusive thought and making his way towards the door in search of some quiet. The air is humid against his skin as he walks out into the late summer’s night, the studio lot that’s never not buzzing with activity during the day proving to be a somber sight as it sits empty and lit only by the moon and the sparsely spaced streetlights.

He’s barely taken a breath when he sees it – the silhouette of someone perched on the steps leading to the sound stage, smoke billowing from the cigarette between their fingers. And whether it’s intuition or simply unbridled curiosity that has him walking towards it, he’s unsure.

“You said you’d quit that,” he says when he approaches to find Natasha seated by the bottom of the stairs, staring at nothing in particular.

“I said a lot of things,” Natasha says, the end of her cigarette glowing a bright orange as she brings it up to her lips.

“You did,” he says, watching the smoke waft into the air as she exhales. She finally looks up at him, and for the first time, he sees the way her cheeks are flushed with red and the glazed, faraway look in her eyes. He nods towards her feet. “How many of those have you had?”

Natasha looks down between her boots, to the empty crystal tumbler resting on the concrete, before lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “How’s Sharon?” she asks instead. Surprise must have flashed in his expression, prompting her to chuckle. “No need to be embarrassed.”

“Natasha-”

“She’s the better choice anyway.”

She’s in no condition to hash this out. Logically, he knows this. Nevertheless, something about the tone in her voice, particularly the bitterness that seeps into it, causes all the hurt and resentment he’s been trying desperately to hold in all these weeks to come rushing to the surface.

“You know what? No, you don’t get to do this! You can’t just cast me aside out of nowhere, and then throw yourself a pity party!” He stares at her, imploring her to show him something, anything to explain why she felt the need to plunge them both into this mutual hell they can’t seem to escape. Only she doesn’t respond, and defeatedly, he finds himself plopping down next to her on the stairs and taking the cigarette from between her fingers. “Goddamn it, Nat.”

The silence lingers between them, and it’s only when he takes a drag from the cigarette that he hears her giggle. He turns to her, raising a brow up in disbelief.

“Steve Rogers smoking,” she says, trying – and failing miserably – to contain her laughter. “What will the moral police say?”

He wants to shoot her a withering look, to chastise her because there’s nothing, absolutely nothing funny about this predicament they find themselves in. But as he takes in the amusement thick in her expression, for reasons beyond his comprehension, he feels his lips begin to twitch in a little smile, too. And before he knows it, they’re both breaking out in laughter.

None of it made sense. Her actions have brought him nothing but torment these last few weeks, and yet, as their laughter tapers later on, all he wants in this moment is to take her in his arms. He sighs. “Why’d you walk away?”

For a moment, she only holds his gaze, and for the first time since he woke up to an empty bed that fateful morning, it’s as though her mask comes off and he sees her – his Natasha – not the stranger he’s been watching from a distance all these weeks. And if he easily recognizes the internal battle raging in her eyes, it’s only because he, too, has been contending with it.

“Because it doesn’t matter if I’m your costar, friend, or the one you want to come home to,” she whispers eventually. “You’re you, and I’m me. And so long as I’m in the equation…” She shakes her head, her lips curling into a smile that’s painfully rueful. “Pick your poison, babe, I’m poison either way.”

Chapter 4 | Chapter 6

#romanogers #the anthology #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #captain america #black widow #steve x natasha

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demetriandelibinaryboyfriends · 2 months

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HIIIIII HAPPY MIGUETRI MONDAY!!! It was only a matter of time before my post-S6 shitposting about them started, I fear ^^;

ANYWAYS I was thinking about this mlm-ass hoodie everyone is talking about, and I need to yap about my own headcanon about it. Bear with me!!!

So tbh this seems like...a really weird wardrobe choice to me. Miguel is, imho, the closest thing this cast of characters has to a Token Straight Guy™️. (Like I know I kinda ship him with Demetri or in a poly Miguetreli arrangement, but I'm mostly clowning! It's kind of an AU for me because to me he doesn't actually read as queer in canon.)

But this hoodie is just. Undeniably the gay mlm flag??? Plain and simple??? Out of all the characters to put in this article of clothing, this is baffling me the most. Especially showing him in it while he trains with his long-term girlfriend who he loves very much???

(Side note: I feel like Miguel is aware of what the mlm flag looks like. Moon told him about all the pride flags! Although him accidentally buying a gay pride flag hoodie would in fact be very funny, it doesn't strike me as particularly likely.)

So here's what I'm thinking: This is not a hoodie Miguel Diaz bought. It was a gift from Demetri.

If anyone's been following me for a while, they might have heard me talk about how I think queerness runs in Demetri's family. He seems to have a single mom, and he's never once mentioned his dad. It's very much giving "lesbian woman who didn't realize her sexuality until she already had a kid with a man, for better or for worse." And Demetri's dad being gone...maybe he left Demetri's mom because he was gay??? Or left her FOR a man, perhaps??? I think Demetri's parents 100% had him during a lavender marriage they may or may not have even REALIZED was a lavender marriage.

Anyways, these are just my wild little headcanons, but I do think Demetri's mom has always known he's gay. She sees a lot of herself and Dem's dad in him, and she doesn't want him to make the same mistakes she did and wait until middle age to finally accept his sexuality. SO, naturally, she starts trying to nudge him toward...Realizing Some Things. Including buying and gifting him a fucking gay flag hoodie. Because, like her son, Mrs. Alexopoulos lacks any and all subtlety.

Demetri realizes what she's trying to do, but he pretends he doesn't. He's all "Wow! Thanks! I love the colors!" and then proceeds to never wear this item of clothing to school ever because the poor man gets bullied for enough already. He wears it in private and maybe to the grocery store or something, but not where he'll be around other kids (except maybe Eli, who he has definitely bitched about this at length to. "UGH, why does everyone think I am gay, I am NOT gay!!! I like women, Eli!!! I totally want Yasmine to spit in my face!!! I also want to make out with and exchange handjobs with women, I promise!!! No, I'm not getting defensive!!!"). Hence why we have not seen The Gay Flag Hoodie until now.

Flash forward to The Karate Wars. Demetri has started training on the regular and has grown MASSIVELY, especially his fucking shoulders. Tragically, they are now too broad and jacked and he is too much of an Absolute Unit to fit into the mlm flag hoodie anymore 💔 But it's still perfectly good!!! Quite comfortable and honestly barely worn! So what does Demetri do????

He gives it to his bestie like the generous closeted hero he is.

Miguel is aware he's wearing the mlm flag, by the way. He is okay with this. This is his way of showing he's an ally! Although it WOULD lead to a very amusing conversation with Sam when they first meet up to train.

Sam, eyeing the mlm flag hoodie dubiously: Miguel, um...is there something you wanted to tell me? Miguel: Oh! It was a present from Demetri! Sam, who also absolutely knows What's Up here: ...no explanation necessary, actually.

#Miguetri Mondays #miguel diaz #demetri alexopoulos #demetri cobra kai #demetri is just 1000% a gay man and I could write essays upon essays of analysis as to why #anyways their friendship is what gets me up every morning #cobra kai #cobra kai season 6 #cobra kai spoilers #...do I need to spoiler tag here? It's literally just an article of clothing jahdkusgylu #oh well

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lavelans · 11 months

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so i got to rewatch the fall of the house of usher today since some friends wanted to watch it and picked up on some things i didn’t notice before (some of these might be obvious but i just like pointing things out!)

1. we already know that the lighting shifts to that particular usher’s representative color during their death scene, but what i didn’t notice on my first watch was that not only do their wardrobes correspond with their colors, their furniture and home/work environments are in the same color too! (and when they’re not wearing that color they’re wearing a color that’s one step adjacent on the color wheel)

the most obvious is camille’s white, but i noticed this time prospero’s red car and jacket when he gives his first business proposal, the red suit he wears to the meeting with frederick.

i also noticed leo wearing a lot of yellow, the lights outside his apartment, the box he keeps his drugs in and the sofa he finds the dead cat behind are all yellow (he also mentions taking yellow pills).

victorine also wears a lot of orange, and so are the scrubs she and al wear in the operating room, the shelves in her office and the fruits on her dinner table at home.

tamerlane is another obvious one, with all the green she wears, but i also noticed there’s a green neon sign outside her apartment, and bill’s BILLT gym also had green accents.

and frederick wears a LOT of blue, i would say maybe he’s the third most obvious? his house has a lot of blue aquariums, and the room he keeps his wife in is blue as well. morrie also wore a blue dress when she went to perry’s party. and not 100% sure if this was intentional but the folder perry drops off at his house was blue too.

1a. bonus detail i noticed, what verna wears when she appears to each of the siblings just before they die also matches up with their respective colors. the red cape with perry, the white security guard uniform with camille, her uniform when she comes to leo’s apartment to pick up the cat, the green dress when she appears as tammy’s double and the blue vest she wears during freddie’s death. vic’s is a stretch but she wears a light orange cardigan when she meets with her and asks to talk to dr. ruiz.

1b. another bonus detail! perry’s party was lit mostly in blue before the lighting turned red just before he died, which visually ties it back to freddie’s death later on. freddie’s and perry’s deaths were already narratively intertwined, with morrie’s choice to go to the party triggering the events that caused freddie to slowly grow more and more paranoid and cruel throughout the series, ultimately leading up to his death in the same place. i just think it’s cool that this narrative connection is also reinforced visually.

2. when verna first arrives at tammy’s place as candy, she speaks with a uk accent, but as soon as the roleplay starts she shifts to an american accent and does an uncanny as fuck impression of samantha sloyan’s performance as tamerlane (which, CARLA GUGINO??? you LEGEND) (also as a non american who generally does not hear american accents outside of tv and movies, the accent switch did not register to me on my first watch lmao)

3. in the last episode, verna places the items on each usher’s gravestone carefully, you could even say with respect, EXCEPT for frederick’s cocaine packet (which she just unceremoniously drops onto the gravestone LMAO as he deserves). it does match the speech she gives him during his death. for the usher siblings she was sometimes kind but generally neutral when she spoke, always offering them chances to say no, but with little remorse when they fail to prevent their own gruesome deaths. EXCEPT for frederick, for whom her spiel is absolutely dripping with contempt for him.

4. minor detail, but in 1980 when verna was talking to the twins about putting their drinks on their tab, she says ‘buy now, pay later’ which basically foreshadows the deal the two of them later make with her. ‘buy now’ meaning saying yes to getting away with all the illegal stuff they did throughout the years, and ‘pay later’ with the lives of his entire lineage.

#tfothou #the fall of the house of usher #sorry for the wall of text i just have a Lot of Thoughts.#shut up kat

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randoimago · 3 months

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Hii! I wanna request Kanji(Persona 4) and Shinjiro (Persona 3) again this time with a S/O that's very into fashion? like they've got lots of different styles and are good at putting outfits together and stuff, maybe even wearing a corset from time to time depending on the outfit? btw loved the last ask!! :3 hope you have a good day/night :D

Fandom: Persona 3, Persona 4

Character(s): Shinjiro, Kanji

Note(s): Hope you have a good day/night too!! But here you go <33

Kanji

He doesn't really care too much about fashion besides what outfits would look cutest on the stuffed animals he makes. He does make sure to tell you that you look nice.

Kanji has an eye for aesthetics so if you ever want a second opinion on outfits you're throwing together or accessories to use with, then he'll give you ideas.

But Kanji can also be rather blunt so he might say something like your choice being an eyesore (except he'd say it nicer, like how he said Yukiko's food was boneless instead of bland).

Shinjiro

He doesn't really care too much about fashion. He's glad you're putting your energy into something that makes you happy, but he doesn't really have an eye for fashion (I mean, look at how he dresses).

Shinjiro might not even comment on your outfit unless you give him a pointed look or something. Sure, you look nice, but he's not dating you for your appearance.

He will get grumpy if you try messing with his wardrobe. He likes his beanies and oversized coats and hoodies. Please don't try to make him wear something else. Give him puppy dog eyes and he'll sigh and wear some shirt you pick out, but the hoodie is going over it if anyone makes any comments.

#serpentinefangs #persona 3 x reader #persona 4 x reader #kanji x reader #shinjiro x reader #kanji tatsumi x reader #shinjiro aragaki x reader

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shmowder · 3 months

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PLEASE LEWAD SNIFF SNIFG EOEASE PLEASE OLEASE PELASE PLEAE PLWASE HGK SNIFFLE SNIFFEL PEALSE LELAS LLEASE PLWASE PLAESE PELAS OLEES SOBS CRIES HEAVES EPLASE PELASE PEEEAAASSEEE

Fluffy marriage HC with the Daniil Dankovsky

Museum dates

It's the ideal date spot for him, getting you dressed up and marvelling at the history and arts of those who came before us.

He gets to show off his knowledge in front of you, which is a bonus. The soft lighting of the museum, the quiet atmosphere as he purposely avoids the crowded displays, leading you to a much more niche collection yet still beautiful all the same. Genuine passion in his eyes as he explains how this came to be, who documented it, how it was preserved through the generations. How close it came to ruin, to being stolen or torn apart during a war, how despite all of the strife it beat the odds and survived.

Immortalises in a glass box to inspire the future. He stares at the traces of history with longing, retelling the lives of the greats with yearning. He wants to belong there too.

his achievements will go down in history. One day, his name will join the list.

takes good care of his wedding ring

It's a symbol of your shared love, a proof of the vows you exchanged, how could he ever not?. He polishes and cleans it, sends it to a jeweller for maintenance once a year alongside his silver brooch.

He takes such good care of it that on some days he doesn't wear it to work. The lab equipments and chemicals he works with are too much of a liability to risk bringing near the ring. Yes, he knows gold is a noble element and therefore doesn't react with much, yes it is resistant to most acids.

But that's the key word here, most. All it takes is one unlucky day for the ring to be lost forever. He doesn't want to get a replacement. He wants to preserve this one. The same one you've slid onto his finger that day, he won't settle for less.

Otherwise, on safer outings, he makes sure to wear it... under his gloves. Hey, this way, it can't get stolen or slide off. Why are you giving him that look? He is a genius, shush.

Puts effort into his appearance to impress you

A lot of effort. He knows you will love him regardless–well maybe he has some doubts about just how loveable his personality alone can be–but he still wants to look good for you.

It's such an ego boost to stand out amongst other men too, especially other husbands who just stopped trying the second they got married. Oh no, if anything, Daniil tries even harder because you will be seeing him every day.

Making sure he's well-groomed and clean, taking care of his hair so it's fluffy and well combed. Styling it every day in the mirror until it frames his face perfectly. Ironing his clothes, from his shirt to his vest and even trousers. Hell, one time, you caught him ironing his socks after he woke up groggy and sleepy.

Especially since how much freedom, time and money he has now that university is over. He can afford the high-end capital brands and all the expensive clothes and fabrics. You still remember the day he excitedly came home to show you the one-of-a-kind snakeskin coat he bought at full price.

If you keep complimenting him like this, then his head will grow too big to fit through the door at the end of the day.

Silk cravats, leather gloves and shoes. Deep crimson red became his iconic colour amidst the blacks, whites, and greys. He knows he looks goods, fluffing his feathers with the confidence of a peacock as you come into the room, waiting for that twinkle in your eyes, that blush on your cheeks, the praise.

He has a clear vision of the man he wants to be, and he makes them come true, always working with diligence and care, putting effort into every aspect of his life.

Your taste does influence his fashion choices, too. If you mention liking a certain colour, he will incorporate it more into his wardrobe. Yes, he still has his iconic red, but he makes a couple exceptions for your favourite colour. Things he wears on special occasions, your birthday, wedding anniversary, or even just weekend dates.

Brings you up in every conversation

If a stranger met Daniil Dankovsky the Bachelor of Medicine, then they'll soon enough be acquainted with his spouse in less than 5 minutes of him talking. He never fails to mention you in some form or way, be it quoting something you said as if you were a well-known philosopher, or mentioning how someone's waiting for him at home so the stranger should kindly not waste his time.

His coworkers in Thanatica hear about you every day. During each watercooler conversation or lunch break, he answers their polite "How is life going for you, Dr.Dankovsky?" by replying as if they asked about you and nothing else.

Well, you are his life, so it makes sense from his point of view. Yes, the time you two spend together is rather too short for his liking these past months, but not a day passes by where he doesn't think about you or your wellbeing.

His reason for living, his breath of air, his beloved.

my life, my love.

Mea vita.

Deep conversations

Throughout his life, the bachelor came to the realisation that people don't like to use their brains, very early on.

It sounds condescending to claim, but it has been proven time after time with everyone he attempted to befriend or the other way around. Most people would rather turn off their brains and drift through life until their sand clock runs out.

Even the so-called respected academics suffered from the same trait at times. Daniil might have just minored in philosophy but he still took the classes more seriously than some of his colleagues who had it as a major.

He tries to appear intellectual, yes. But it's not a complete preformance, deep down, he really admires those traits. He wants someone smart and not afraid to have these difficult conversations, to discuss heavy topics with.

Especially someone who isn't afraid to be proven wrong, who doesn't take offence to him poking holes in their logic.

You were genuinely in it for the science, for the sake of learning, just like him. You didn't cut off his long explanations short, neither did you wave off his philosophic debates with a polite smile. You indulged him, even if you didn't have a single clue what he was saying, you still tried to listen and understand.

You allowed him to explain.

Daniil is self aware, he knows that he is too much. Too driven by pride and ego, too heavy for people to swallow. But he refuses to break himself into bite-sizes or water his intellectualism down.

You weren't intimidated, neither did you worship the ground he walks on. You saw him as human, capable of right and wrong, of ignorance and justice.

Correcting him on some occasions, winning against him in debates and arguments at times.

Daniil fell more and more in love with you each time. He was the most himself around you, full of passion, not afraid to share his wild theories or less refined ideas. Knowing you won't judge him for where he stood on the chessboard, even if the two of you disagreed on some principles, there will always be a spot for him in your arms.

tries to maintain your lifestyle

When he married you, he vowed to himself never to let you need anything in this life. All the prestigious salaries and funding that came with his degree will be used to fund his family first and his research second.

And you are his entire family, his only family, his beloved spouse.

He wants you to lead a comfortable life, to indulge in luxurious every now and then. Whatever your hobbies may be, expensive or not, they are completely supported by him.

Because you being happy and never having to work a day in your life, is genuinely the biggest achievement he could ever strive for.

He'll pick up the extra shifts at the hospital, don't worry about it. He wants the experience either way, it is his choice.

He will do whatever he can to maintain the high standards lifestyle he got you accustomed to. Even when Thanatica funds run dry from the lack of progress, he still doesn't compromise the home finance and rather go on long work trips and put in more efforts to meet the standards.

You have your degree, yes, and you're free to peruse any research of your own. Daniil would take care of the funding, he insists.

It's personal for him to be able to provide for you and your dreams. So you may never wish for anything you couldn't acquire.

Lets you see the embarrassing sides of him

When he's having bad hair days and ends up blaming the haircomb for not cooperating. His tendency to spill wine after a drink or two–which might be the real reason behind his dark red vests.

When he's rehearsing his speeches the night prior to the conference. When he's practising his latin pronunciation and keeps clumsily sounding the new words out.

How he slurs his speech and becomes very cuddly when wasted. How his student days of... wild drinking lowered his tolerance so much that it doesn't take much for him to start being moppy and clingy as he pours his heart out to you because nothing is working out in his research and he doesn't know what to do.

You've seen that man both at his most unfaltering situations and glamorous moments. He's so grumpy in the morning, annoyed by the sun as he forces himself out of bed and begins begrudgingly ironing his clothes and getting ready for work.

How he refuses to leave the house if he isn't fully content with his appearance. Even during his most work cramped weeks, he'd still pause before the mirror to adjust his caravat while glaring at his reflection with dark circles under his eyes.

You've seen him chase a rat out of the kitchen once after it stole one of the experimental tissue samples he brought home from the labs and put in the freezer.

The genius of the century, Daniil Dankovsky, cornering a small rat and threatening it with a loaded pistol in the middle of the night.

It was you who saved the day when you simply set up a big block of cheese on the nearby floor which the rat quickly scurried at. Its large size forcing the rat to abandon the dish sample in order to greedly drag the huge cheese away.

Although, you didn't have the heart to tell him that you did this because you knew how bad at aiming your husband was and you rather liked the new kitchen wall tiles the two of you just spent a fortune to have installed the other day.

Takes you on his work trips

The two of you travelled to france enough for Daniil to pick up on the language, using it to terrorise his poor coworkers back home, as if the latin wasn't enough already.

Surprisingly, the two of you spent more time together during those trips. Being in a different country meant he was only allowed to work within the normal working hours for other people, tragic yes. There was no private Thanatica labs for him to spend the night at, he'd get kicked out of the institution labs each time he attempts to stay more than the allowed duration.

So instead, he'd focus on you, takes you on dates around the new country. Sightseeing together and enjoying the culture and culinary food. Trying things you've never heard of before, Daniil truly loved the exploration of the unkown at his heart, and it really shined through during these nights.

Those trips were as therapeutic for him as they were for you. He had the person he loved most in the world by his side as the two of you tredded through new cities and marvled at extravagant inventions.

The creme de la creme of society, of art works and poetry. Each museum is filled with rich history and futuristic inventions. The two of you even rode an air balloon during one of those trips once, looking at the world below, drifting through the clouds. Daniil tightly held your hand, and for once, he knew that this way where he belonged, that there is nowhere else where he would rather be than here by your side.

Ngl that actually was a treat to write after all of that angst. Huh, I actually didn't expect to enjoy fluffy romantic husband Daniil this much but I did. I guess we both learned something new in this endeavour.

I hope you liked it because wow this one was rather tricky. I had to resist the urge for angst and bonk it with a broom each time it reared its head. Stay down ya cunt, I'd yell at it atop my fluffy fort of pillows and everything nice.

Tell me your thoughts if you did enjoy it <3 I hope you have a great day. I will come back later and fix the typos.

#♧fluff #♧Daniil #♧x reader #daniil dankovsky x reader #pathologic x reader #x reader #♧husband daniil

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triplesilverstar · 8 months

Text

Drinks and a spit roast, sounds fun

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Vash X Wolfwood, Vash X F!Reader, Wolfwood X F!Reader, Vash X F!Reader X Wolfwood

CW: Drinking, anxiety, PDA, dirty dancing, grinding, P in V sex, blow jobs, spit roasts, Bathroom sex, slight voyeurism, deep throating, cum swallowing

Word count: Roughly 8K

A/N: Chapter 9, where the three of you are celebrating the fact you have a new job and Nicholas is switching to days instead of nights. I wonder if the three of you will have a good time or not.

As much as you might have felt uncomfortable waiting outside of a club for the other two to get out of the car, a throwback to what your Friday and Saturday nights had always entailed, being there with Vash and Nicholas had least helped settle your nerves.

Your last few days at your previous job had been similar to your first day after you gave your notice, with everyone except upper management giving you the cold shoulder. The cat calls outside the building however were gone, though that might have had more to do with the fact either Nicholas or Vash dropped you off or picked you up.

So now it was Friday, and the moment you had stepped inside the apartment while Nicholas parked his bike you saw Vash sitting on the couch with his tablet out and felt your nerves flood your system.

You must have made a noise as his face lifted from the screen in front of him, looking up in time to see your apprehensive face as you strode into the living room. “You know if you don’t want to go out tonight we don’t have to.” Closing the cover and quickly padding towards you and reaching out to cup your face in his palms. “I don’t want anyone uncomfortable just because I want us to go out.”

Your hands reach up to wrap around his wrists and smile at him in what you hope is reassuring. “It's not that I don't want to go Vash, it's just some hang-ups because of before. I really do want to go out tonight, you and Nico are so different from what I had before when didn’t have a real choice when I went out.” You don’t have to say anything more for Vash to understand what you mean, while you haven’t gone into a lot of detail the boys are pretty smart and don’t need you to spell it out for them.

Vash ducks his head down so his forehead is pressed against yours but he doesn’t do anything to either shake off your hands or remove them from his face. “You do now, and I don’t want you feeling like you have to come out with us. We can always celebrate your new job and Nico going to days here in the apartment.”

His eyes are searching as if he’ll make the decision to stay in and the slightest drop or sense of you not wanting to go out. “No Vash. It’s fine really!” You’re pleading into his face hoping your breath doesn’t smell like your lunch as you talk to him with so little distance between your faces. “If anything maybe I’m a little nervous about what to wear because it used to be picked out for me.” Giving a little chuckle as you turn your face away, aware of the heat rising on your cheeks.

“Well if you like I can help you pick something?” His voice is soft and you nod quickly, laughing a little as your head doesn’t move much with it still in Vash’s hands. “Let’s go see what’s in that wardrobe of yours sweetheart I know we can find something.”

A few hours later with supper in your stomach and the sun setting the three of you are climbing out of a cab, planned so that at the end of the night you don’t have to worry about Vash’s car. You don’t plan on getting drunk and neither do Vash or Nicholas but Nicholas was quick to point out this was the safest bet. Vash had tacked on he was just worried if they walked someone might hit on you with how sexy you looked which made you blush furiously.

Even if you thought the duo you were with were far better looking, Nicholas had pulled on a pair of black slacks with a white button-down shirt. One more button than was required was left undone as if to show off his chest which drew the eyes upwards to land on the leather choker he was wearing. You almost swooned in the apartment and you were hoping he’d leave it on for later because you were having dirty fucking thoughts about the tan man and using that choker like a collar.

Vash on the other hand had on a pair of jeans that you might have thought were made around his legs for how tight they were leaving nothing to the imagination with a red t-shirt and a black leather jacket. His hair pushed back from his face for once and styled in spikes that seemed to defy gravity. Honestly, if you thought Nicholas was going to be the death of you Vash in his outfit might be an image from the afterlife with a promise of all your desires filled.

So with a skirt from your closet that Vash had pulled out right away as a suggestion and a lacy top, you felt underdressed compared to your company. It might be you chasing others away from the duo instead of them chasing others since you doubt you’ll be the one being flirted with tonight.

Outside the cab and looking at the club that you’ve never been to with two ridiculously hot men has you feeling the nerves settle into your stomach again. It’s almost like Vash can sense your apprehension though, sliding his hand down your arm until his fingers are weaving between the smaller digits of your hand. “Come on Sweetheart, or our handsome Nico will leave us behind.”

Nicholas lets out an annoyed grunt, waiting for the two of you to join him before approaching the doors. “Funny Vash, real funny.” Waving his hand as if to say for Vash to lead your little party and you find one of your eyebrows quirking upwards. This club has a bouncer and a wait line to get in but Vash is heading right for the burly man, and your nerves come back in the form of your hand gripping Vash’s just a little tighter.

Stopping to look towards you and Nicholas who is close enough that you can feel the heat from his body against your back. “Something wrong? If you changed your mind we don’t have to go.” That reassurance of his is back and you let out a small airy laugh.

“No. Just nervous about the bouncer, pretty sure we should be heading for the back of the line.” At that Nicholas snorts, squeezing your bare shoulder.

“Trust me Little Bear, we’re getting in with no waiting. When you travel with us you get in no problem.” A wink and you want to roll your eyes, not feeling any better about what is going to happen but you trust the two of them. You’re going to enjoy telling them you told them so as Vash heads towards the door again.

And you feel even more awkward when the bouncer reaches down to undo the snap of the rope that serves as a barricade with nothing more than a nod to Vash. Well and a poorly veiled sneer at Nicholas behind you.

In all your life even with the so-called prestige that came with Henry you’ve never just walked into a club before. “What was that about?”

“Rai-Dei and I used to work security jobs like this one together, so he might not like me but he’s not gonna make us wait in line.” Nicholas shrugged moving closer to you so you’d be able to hear him over the music that seeps from the walls just past the entrance that makes up the coat check.

“Oh, did you know he’d be working tonight?” Vash pats your arm as he slips away to turn in his jacket and you understand why, it’s already getting warm and you aren’t even in the main throng of bodies yet.

“Happy coincidence.” Nicholas winks at you and you know you’re shaking your head because that wink says it all. It’s a nice feeling though knowing they planned this at least a little more than just a random outing.

With Vash rejoining your little party of three made its way deeper into the club. Missing the way Nicholas dipped his head towards Vash as you walked just slightly ahead of them. “I have no idea how you get her in that skirt but fuck Vash.” Licking his lips as the fabric clung to your ass in a way that wasn’t helping his boner and he wished he had worn looser pants already. “It’s making it real hard to be a gentleman.”

With a smirk on his face, Vash tilted his head and licked the edge of Nicholas’s ear playfully well aware anyone could see them. “I thought by now you’d know I have a way of making things happen.” Ever since Nicholas had made the comment about the skirt in the apartment Vash was bound and determined to get you in it for them. “And I know the feeling. I want to find a dark corner and just have her.”

“So what are we doing?” The sound of your voice pulls their attention back to you and away from the thoughts swirling in both of their heads about your lovely curves.

“Drinks first?” Vash is quick to answer with a dazzling smile that charms you, never once thinking the blond might be up to something. With the throng of people at the bar Vash leans down to kiss the side of your mouth as Nicholas agrees. “You and Nico go grab a table, doesn’t make sense for the three of us to wait at the bar.” Plus Vash doesn’t need you seeing him or Nico getting preferential treatment at the bar because there's no way they won’t recognize their boss's twin.

“Come on Little Bear.” Nicholas has his hand resting on your hip tapping a pattern to the beat and aiming for calming you. You might not have talked about it but he knows why you’re skittish, the fear of seeing someone from your old friend group coming and making trouble for you. When Vash had made the suggestion he had done a little bit of online stalking to see where the asshole of a boy that was your ex liked to go. “I see a table that should put a skip in Vash’s step.”

You chuckle as your hand lands on his and the coarse feeling of his fingers under yours. “Is there anything that doesn’t put a skip in his step?” It’s a valid question as the blond always seems to be a in good mood. Like he’s just high on life.

“Not that I’ve seen!” Letting Nicholas guide you to the table and you do your best to keep smiling and not letting your eyes dart around the room like a wild animal. You don’t have any reason to be this nervous, placing your hand on the table and hoping it hides the twitch of your fingers. The table isn’t far from the dance floor and you wonder if the duo likes to dance, Vash seems to be the type with his outgoing personality but Nicholas strikes you as the type that if he can it’s not something he does often. If at all.

“This place is nice.” You’re trying to make small talk and Nicholas must sense you’re not feeling like yourself as he moves closer to you and keeps an arm around the small of your back. Nicholas does this for the dual purpose of physical comfort and he could already see a few wandering eyes running up and down your body, you might not have agreed to date them yet but he sure as hell isn’t letting anyone else touch you in that damn skirt that makes your butt look like a present.

“Yea, it’s not too big and it’s got a good layout for having a drink or two and maybe a little dancing.”

“Oh?” You smile feeling part of his words rumble from his chest. “Does that mean you and Vash are gonna go be the center of attention?”

“Not me, but I get the feeling Vash will want to dance and it’s probably gonna be with you.” Dipping his head down for a chaste kiss to the edge of your cheek. “No way we’re leaving you all by your lonesome for someone to sweep you off your feet.” Winking at the end as he teases you.

“Drinks!” You almost jump at how quickly Vash was at the bar, with a small tray in hand and three drinks on it. You could laugh at the neon drink that has to be for Vash as Nicholas reaches for his whiskey and you reach for your own preferred drink. Taking a sip and enjoying the slight burn on your tongue.

It isn’t long before the three of you fall into much easier conversations about the week as your first round goes down, Nicholas slipping away and returning just in time with the second round for the three of you as you finish the last few drops from your first.

You don’t want to say it’s cozy but it is nice to be out with the two of them away from the apartment now that you don’t feel as tense. It’s the same conversations you’d be having if you were home in your lounge clothes on the couch, well minus the raised voices over the music. Or how warm your body feels and you aren’t sure if it’s from the heat in the club with Vash and Nicholas each on one side of you or from the booze in your system.

Lifting your glass Vash leans down as you take another mouthful of your drink and with the noise his lips are right against your ear. “Come dance with me?” Well, he didn’t need to get that close but you understand why with the way he whispered it against the skin, his upper lip brushing the shell of your ear and it sends a shudder through you.

Taking a bigger swallow for that hit of liquid courage that you might not need after the first drink you look to Nicholas to see him leaning on the small bar table with a nod. Sometimes you think those two can talk without ever opening their mouths. Damn, that tanned man for being right about Vash wanting to dance with you though. “I’m not very good.” Your voice is a little louder to be heard over the music and it might be lost but you’re certain of the waiver in your words compared to moments before.

“I don’t care, I just wanna dance with you and make a scene.” That doesn’t give you the warm and fuzzies but you slip your hand into his and let him lead you both to the floor while Nicholas watches with his whiskey in hand.

Vash doesn’t tug you far before his steps slow and he's turning towards you and starts to move, far smoother than anyone else you’ve ever seen. It’s obvious immediately that the blond likes to dance as he moves, and you’re certain if anyone is watching they can pick up how awkward you feel. At least until Vash places his hand on your hip and moves in closer. “Just follow my lead if you feel comfortable.”

Well, it’s not really following as he moves your body so subtly that it looks as if you are moving in time to the music with Vash. Either way, you find the anxiety that was bubbling inside of you slipping away as the music beats around your body. The bass drum in the music makes your chest thrum with the sound as it seems to vibrate through your muscles right down to your bones. It’s a feeling you don’t mind once in a while compared to having it every weekend. You do have to give it to the blond, he really is good at this switching his movements as the songs change. His hands wander along your body it isn’t long until your doing the same in smaller movements.

Eventually, you let yourself go and just move in time to the music, which isn’t hard to do with Vash in front of you. Those bright blue eyes watch your every movement and like this, you don’t miss every micro expression on his face. The widening of eyes when your hands get a little daring on his body, the flare of his nostrils when the scent of your perfume wafts towards him from someone walking close by. The quick bite of his lower lip when your thigh brushes his crotch and you feel the boner he’s sporting, that really makes you smile and boosts your confidence.

Back at the table, Wolfwood is enjoying the show. Of course, Vash would move the two of you so that one of the overhead lights would illuminate you both as you moved, painted in the changing neon colors. Taking smaller and smaller sips of his drinks as Vash’s long fingers trailed along your body Wolfwood found it easy for the world to wash away, like your twisting bodies was a show that was being put on just for him in the comfort of the apartment. The reminder of the night that you and Vash first gave him a double blow job wasn’t helping the tightness he was feeling around his waist. Vash knew how to play him well and with you added in it just got him riled up faster. He was already looking forward to when the three of you would head back to the apartment as he wanted to leave both of you panting messes in his bed too exhausted to move in the morning. It made his head swim thinking of the little noises both of you would make and his cock throbbed wanting more than the fabric of his underwear and the cool feeling from his zipper pressed against it.

Wolfwood was glad that the music was pounding when he lets out a groan at the sight of Vash squeezing one of your ass cheeks in his hand. Fuck. At this rate when you came back from the dance floor he was going to need to slip off to get some relief at this point or he wasn’t even going to make it home.

Tossing the rest of his drink back his dark eyes settled back on the two of you just as Vash turned his head just enough for their eyes to lock.

Shit.

If Vash knew he had a captive audience he was going to run with it. Licking his lips as he started being a little more free with his hands on your body and moving his limbs in a way that left Wolfwood finding it hard to swallow. You’re obvious to the little show with your back to him and facing Vash, practically riding his thigh under his direction and from the way Vash is grinning Wolfwood has a feeling you’re as turned on as he is right now. So when you suddenly turn with your fingers in your hair and Vash pulls you against his chest Wolfwood lets out another groan as the light makes him think of all the sinful things he wants to do to you. Your skirt having ridden and he could see the briefest flash of the top of your stockings.

As you and Vash keep moving you feel like Vash is up to something as his touches seem more deliberate now, and your body is humming with your growing arousal. Like this, you can smell his skin and your bodies are close enough that there is always some part of you touching each other.

“Do you trust me, sweetheart?” Nipping your ear as he whispers the question in time to giving your ass a squeeze so your crotch rubs harder on his leg. At this point, your panties are beyond damp and you regret letting Vash pick out a skirt for you. He hasn’t made any kind of move to slip below the fabric but you’re starting to feel like you’re at a dangerous point where you want him to. The idea of him fingering you while on the dance floor has another wave of wetness pooling between your legs.

“Of course.” You’re honest in your answer as you do trust Vash, he’s been a beyond caring friend and you’re ready to commit to a relationship with the two. Planning to tell them so be it tonight if you aren’t too drunk or in the morning, after this week of all the consideration they’ve given you and your workplace drop-offs and pick-ups.

He grins, turning your body so your back is flush to his chest and his crotch so he can grind against you. “Our handsome Nico can see us. I think~” Letting his voice drag out the word as if he’s singing it. “He’s as hot and bothered as we are.” Using his head against the side of yours he guides you until you see the table you left him behind, and you make a noise at the sight of him. It could be the heat from the club or the way the lights are, but you’re certain there’s a sheen of sweat at his hairline and his chest is heaving.

You let out a hum hoping Vash can hear it as you feel a little mischievous, rubbing your hands down your chest in what you hope is a sultry fashion. Seeing the visible swallow from Nicholas at this distance makes you feel braver than normal. “How long have we been out on the dancefloor?”

“Almost an hour.” You can’t hide the sudden jerk of your body as you hadn’t expected that answer. No wonder you feel as aroused as you do if you and Vash have been touching each other like you have been for that long. The alcohol in your system has nothing to do with the warmth you’re feeling then.

“Well, I think I’d like to head home or find somewhere to fuck my boyfriends.” Giving your hips a shake as you speak and you don’t miss the moan he barely bites back, waiting for your words to sink in.

“I mean I can think of somewhere.” Turning you so you’re chest to chest again you don’t miss the gleam in his eyes that tells you he heard exactly what you said. “As much as I like the idea of fucking my girlfriend with my boyfriend in a bed, I don’t think we’ll make it. Feel like you wanna try something a little riskier?”

Hearing him call you his girlfriend should not make you feel as giddy as it does with a fluttering in your stomach as your hands move up to land on his shoulders. “As long as we don’t end up in jail, yes.” Lowering his head to nip at your lips before giving you a quick kiss no doubt pleased with your answer.

“Then let's go grab our handsome man.” You laugh at how quickly Vash slips his fingers into yours and starts pulling you behind him and it's a lot faster than when you headed for the dance floor.

“For the record, you're just as handsome.” That gets you a wink once you're out of the mass of bodies and moving a little faster to keep up with Vash. Not that you can blame him because now you're feeling a high from the declaration and part of you is curious about what Vash has in mind by something riskier .

“My my, I see the two of you look like you had fun.” This close there is no doubt that Nicholas is flustered from having watched both of you. His drink is gone and even with the lighting in the club, you can see how jagged his pupils are. The flick of his tongue across his lips and you find yourself hyper-focused on the wet muscle, and decide to do something a little rash.

For you anyway.

With Nicholas leaning on the table you don't have as much of a height difference to worry about, slotting your mouth over his for a kiss taking the time to nibble on his lower lip before pulling back. “Not as much as we would have had if you were with us, Nico.”

Of course, Nicholas doesn't miss a beat and like Vash doesn't give a shit if anyone is watching you. His hand reaches for the back of your head to pull you back to him for a lingering kiss with a hard pressure against your lips that leaves you weak in the knees and you might have crumbled if it wasn't for Vash at your back. A small mewl leaves you when Nicholas pulls back with a shit-eating grin.

“Wanna tell me what that was about?” You feel giddy as you watch him, not missing the way his eyes dart down to your lips as if he wants to kiss you again.

“I think she just wanted to kiss one of her boyfriends.” Vash seems to have no qualms with stealing your thunder, and it's worth it to be this close to watch as understanding dawns on his stubble-encrusted chin.

“What he said.” You giggle feeling your cheeks grow even warmer, if this is how it feels to just agree to date them you can get used to the feeling. You've never felt your stomach and heart flutter like this before.

“I'd say you could have picked a better place to tell us Little Bear, but I guess that means we're heading home?” Vash leans past you to whisper something in his ear and you watch Nicholas gulp unsure if you actually heard it or it was in your head. “Are you sure?”

Something about the way he said it makes you raise an eyebrow until you feel Vash press more into you and the hard on he's been sporting since the two of you were on the dancefloor is firmly pressed against your butt.

“It's fine Nico~” Trailing a hand down your arm and you're quickly becoming distracted by the blond. “You worry too much, now come on. I can't wait much longer.” Grabbing the remains of his probably warm drink and finishing it in one go. Given your frugal nature you do the same since you know these drinks weren't cheap from the bar, wincing at the warm booze that hits your tongue making the flavor just a bit harsher.

“I shouldn't have done that.” You groan as you make a face, only for Vash to cup your cheeks between both of his palms.

“You're so adorable when you make that face!” Squealing a little before he has your hand in his again. “Now let's go my lovely partners because I want to fuck you. Right. Now.” All teasing in his voice is gone and while you're used to hearing that rasp from Nicholas, hearing it from Vash is making something inside of you quiver. Happy to let him lead you once more, and probably not for the last time that night.

Except as he leads you towards the bathrooms you feel yourself growing warmer for a whole different reason. “I’ll go check it out.” The music isn't as loud here so you aren't raising your voices, watching as Nicholas shuffles past you and heading into the men's room.

“Vash” you call, staring at the very obvious well-known sign for gendered washrooms making sure you don't look at him. “Did you mean what I think you meant on the dancefloor?”

“If you mean getting lucky in the bathroom? Yes.” Giggling and pressing the tip of his nose into the side of your face. “If you don't want to we can just go home, I feel risky but I don't want you to be uncomfortable.” His voice is soothing and you haven't felt like you would be forced to follow through anyway but him voicing it still makes your heart warm regardless.

“I.” You bite your lip before continuing because the truth is this is something you would have never thought of doing. Well. Before Nico and Vash you wouldn't have thought about being in a poly relationship or a threesome on a regular basis either yet here you are. “I really want to do this, it just seems so risky and that is making me giddy.” You admit laughing a little as you look at him at last seeing the warmth in his eyes.

“I know it seems silly, but that is what makes it fun.” Kissing the tip of your nose just as Nicholas reappears.

“If we're doing this, now is the time.” At least Nicholas is showing the same level of nerves as you which helps ease the little voice in your head. You don't question anything since it being proverbial clear might not last if you do. Sticking close to Nicholas as he heads in and heads for the last stall that's against the wall.

You expected it to be a little bigger being on the end but it's not and for the three of you it's some tight spacing. A single thought finally fires in your brain. “Ugh. Guys. Do we have condoms?” You might be down for this but if you don't have any condoms this was all a waste even if you don't know what kind of positions Vash had in mind but with the space you assume at least one of them was going inside of you.

Reaching into his pants pocket Vash pulls out two of them with a flick of his wrist. “I thought of that Sweetheart.” Giving you a wink.

“You were hoping for this weren't you?” Nicholas deadpans and you have to agree watching Vash turn a little sheepish.

“Can't say I didn't.” Laughing before growing serious. “I just like the idea of the added edge to the possibility of being caught. It makes it hotter.” You can't argue, and with Nicholas running his hand under the edge of your shirt and his crotch pressed into your backside it does add to it. Knowing someone could come along at any moment while the three of you are being intimate.

“What are you thinking Vash?” His voice has that growl to it that makes your spine tingle and you clench with a small noise that has Vash looking at you like he's a wolf and you're little red riding hood.

“Well, since she's dating both of us I was thinking both of us inside of our little girlfriend if we're all up for that? If not, the usual?”

You don't wait, piping up right away. “Usual. No offense but I'm not ready for anal.” Blushing furiously because thus far the three of you haven't had anything involving you and your other opening. “I've never done anything with it.”

“That's fine Little Bear.” Nicholas bends his knees so he can brush his lips over the side of your face. “This isn't the place for new stuff, but if you want we can start with baby steps regarding that.”

“So, you in me and me in our lovely lady?” Vash is wiggling his eyebrows handing one of the condoms to Nicholas.

“Yea sounds good.” You can hear the grin in his voice and he takes the wrapper. Vash wastes no time undoing his pants and pushing the fabric down with his boxers so his cock can spring free. Sliding the condom on and reaching to pull you towards him. You’re happy to meet his lips as you wrap your fingers around him, pumping him as he starts to lick at your mouth wanting more.

Only for a growl of annoyance to ring out from behind you. “Fuck. I ripped it.”

Both you and Vash stop, with you turning your head to see Nicholas holding the ripped package. “You used your teeth again didn’t you?” This time it’s Vash who makes the deadpan statement and you roll your eyes. Sometimes Nicholas just tries too hard to be sexy with things. “Guess we are heading ho-”

“I could always suck you off while Vash pounds me in this skirt?” Cutting Vash off while you keep pumping him letting your eyes trail down Nicholas’s chest to where his pants are open and his hand is at the base of his dick. It doesn’t matter how many times you see it, his length still makes you shake knowing that something that size could be attached to a person. Reaching out to replace his hand and slowly pumping him, rubbing your thighs together to try and find some relief.

“Fuck that.” Licking his lips while his hips stutter to thrust up into your hand you get the feeling he’s way more turned on than you thought. “That sounds hot.” One of his palms on the side of your face and tilting you more towards him and kissing you, the smaller space ensuring it’s a short distance to either man. “I don’t think you’re going to enjoy it too much though. That’s a lot of bending.”

“Don’t care, I wanna fuck my boyfriends and we’re already this far into it.” Nipping at his top lip before letting out a moan. Not wanting to be outdone Vash has lifted your skirt higher along your thighs and two of his fingers are sliding along the folds of your pussy. Your underwear pushed to the side with his thumb.

“Nico, she’s soaked. You should feel her.” Vash has his body pressing more into your side, his other hand over yours and slowing the movement of your fingers along the length of his cock. Squeezing your hand in his so you feel every vein and bump under the condom. Gasping as one of Nicholas’s fingers joins Vash’s tracing along your folds.

“Damn, you’re so wet.” Kissing you again like he’s a dying man and you shudder, the pumping of your hands halting as the three fingers slip into your core. Twisting and turning as they stretch you out and Vash is whispering in your ear his voice low.

“Such a naughty little thing, your pussy is trying to suck our fingers in.” Lowering his head to kiss and suck at the side of your neck while Nicholas is sliding his tongue along your bottom lip. Wanting a far deeper kiss you’re quick to grant, plunging his tongue along yours in time to his finger. “Like it wants something so much bigger in you. Pounding away until you can’t stand anymore.” Groaning as he drags his teeth upwards towards your ear and curls his fingers while Nicholas keeps pumping away. “Come for me Sweetheart and I’ll give you something bigger to clamp on, you needy little thing.”

Both of your wrists jerk when Nicholas adds a second finger and you feel your cunt clamp down on their fingers inside of you. Spasming as another flood of liquid pours from your core onto their joined fingers, Nicholas pulls away to grin while Vash laps at the red marks along your neck from his teeth. “Such a good girl. Do you want your reward my pretty little girlfriend?”

“Uh-huh.” You’re whispering as you try to catch your breath, your hands no longer wrapped around their cocks, not wanting to squeeze either of them too hard. Whimpering as their fingers are pulled from your body, and Nicholas holds both of his out in front of your mouth. You get the idea opening your mouth to clean them of your release but Vash is a bit faster shoving both fingers to the first knuckle into his mouth and sucking like it’s the most divine thing he’s ever tasted.

“That wasn’t for you.” The smallest hint of annoyance in his voice as Vash slides off his fingers with a pop before making a show of licking his fingers off.

“I just have a better way to let her have a taste.” Slotting his mouth over yours for a sloppy open-mouth kiss, tongues teasing one another as you taste yourself before sucking on the tip of his tongue. All the while Nicholas is groaning with the few in front of him, darting in at one point to add to the mess the three of you are making.

Breathless you pull away licking your lips and smacking them together. “Please.” Softly whining as your fingers trail along their chests. “I need both of you. Now.”

“Well Nico, you heard the lady and I do believe it’s rude to leave such a lovely one waiting.” Placing his hands on your hips and turning you to face Nicholas while he hikes your skirt a little higher. “Damn, you look lovely like this Sweetheart.” Slapping one of your ass cheeks before spreading your legs so he can better position both of you.

Licking your lips you reach for Nicholas, placing your hands on his thighs and leaning down feeling the pressure in your back already as you start to lean forward onto your toes inside your shoes. It’s a little awkward as you use one hard to start to stroke him while the other is trying to support your weight, but seeing that first bead of pre cum on his tip has you groaning. Licking it up and letting out a small hum.

“Try to keep it down Little Bear.” Nicholas groans as his cock throbs wanting to push into your mouth already. To be able to see both you and Vash while Vash fucks you and your lips are wrapped around him knowing every thrust Vash makes into your body will have you taking more of his cock down your throat.

“You can give me something to keep me quiet.” Teasing Nicholas as you start to lick up and down his shaft while Vash makes a few more adjustments to the way your legs are spread, lining himself up before giving your butt another slap.

“Ready Sweetheart?” A quick question and you respond by rolling your hips back trying to get the tip of his cock inside your folds. “Well, Nico you better get ready to keep her quiet.” Slowly pressing himself inside your pussy until his tip was firmly past the lips of your cunt, Vash snapped his hips forward plunging into your core. Letting out a whine at the sudden fullness only to have one of Nicholas's hands quickly cover your mouth.

“Damnit Vash.” A groan from Nicholas at the blond antics and you can't help but run your tongue along his palm against your lips and give his cock a squeeze hoping he'd get the hint. Vash for the first few moments just enjoys the way your walls press against his length, the position and the cramped space doesn't allow for him to go as deeply as he would have liked. Yet the view more than made up for it, licking his lips as Nicholas moved his hand and you started placing kitten licks along the other man's dick. Seeing the way Nicholas would freeze for a moment before relaxing as you worked, sliding the hand that had been over your mouth back and up into your hair. The strands loosely held in his grip as the sound of wet skin on skin reached his ears had Vash grinning. This was what he wanted, both Nicholas and you being with him something he hadn’t realized he had wanted until you waltzed into the apartment. Now you were dating both of them and he felt content, humming as his hands swept along your hip and lower back waiting for you to adjust to him.

As the grip on his cock lessened Vash set a leisurely pace plunging in and out of your core, waiting for you to start to suck Nicholas off before really getting into it.

Feeling as Vash slowly fucked your core a warmth started to spread more through you a line of sweat forming along your back as you started to slide your hand along Nicholas’s length in time to the pace that was Vash was pumping inside of you. Licking and sucking at the skin of his dick as your hand passed sections of him, using the tip of your tongue to trace a prominent vein up to the head of his cock and letting out a small hum. At the briefest tug to your hair you look up to see Nicholas biting his lip and his eyes hooded as he watches you. Still looking at him you start to lick his tip as if you’re licking an ice cream cone and trying to keep the liquid from dripping down to your fingers. Swirling your tongue around him and letting out small breathy moans as Vash adds in the occasional sharper pump to keep you from getting too comfortable.

As Nicholas lets out a louder groan that if anyone else is in the bathroom there is little doubt about what’s happening in the last stall you wrap your lips around him and start to suck. “Fuck!” The result is almost immediate as about a third of his length is shoved into your mouth and his other hand settles in your hair. You’re glad you’ve had a lot more practice sucking him off since the first time because you might not have been able to handle the way he stretches your lips. Hollowing your cheeks as you start to bob up and down, and breathing through your nose while sliding your hand around the rest of him and twisting your wrist near his base before sliding back up. It’s hard to focus on keeping your hand and mouth working in tandem as Vash starts to pick up speed, that hand that had been on your hip sliding along your thigh and two of his fingers starting to fondle at your clit.

The buzzing at the base of your skull grows stronger as you work to take more of Nicholas’s cock into your mouth, almost at the halfway point. Feeling the snap of Vash’s hips against your own is helping as you relax your throat and breathe through your nose moaning from the onslaught of Vash in your slick channel and smelling the sweat in the dark hairs around Nicholoas’s base.

Squeezing your walls tighter as Vash starts to jackhammer into you chasing his release before you hear him let out a whine. “Nico, kiss me~” Damn that whine gets you, clenching like a vice around him as his fingers dance across your clit. A chuckle from above you and you don’t care to stop trying to take more of dick hitting the back of your throat as one of those rough hands leaves the side of your head. Feeling both of them throbbing and twitching as they fuck you, and in this moment you couldn’t be happier, the sound of moans as Nicholas probably tongue fucks Vash’s mouth above you.

The noise you make as Vash pinches your clit and your orgasm slams through you like a freight train, locking your jaw to try and not bite down on the cock in your mouth. Humming as your body relaxes and a feeling of euphoria floods through your system.

Vash is still jackhammering away, pulling away from Nicholas with a thin string of saliva connecting them above you. “Fuck, I’m gonna blow Nico~” A crimson blush to put a rose to shame breaks out across his face as his hips slam into you and have you choking on Nicholas and moaning like you’re having the time of your life. “She’s so tight like she wants to drain my balls in that pretty little pussy of hers.” Hissing as he slams hard into you once more and throws his head back biting his lip with enough force to draw blood as he cums violently inside the condom wrapped in your tight heat.

That final slam of Vash’s hips has your nose brushing against the hairs around Nicholas’s base and the smell of him has you squeezing Vash hard enough that you might actually be trying to milk his cock. Knowing from the grunts in front of you that Nicholas is just as close you start to hum, vibrating along his cock and feeling drool slip past the corner of your lips.

To hear the door to the bathroom open. The three of you are surprised and you find yourself lifted upwards so your feet wouldn’t be visible under the door and your lips wrapped around Nicholas’s base as the rest of his cock has nowhere to go but down your throat.

Nicholas can’t help himself, feeling your lips and mouth convulsing around his entire length and he groans long and loud as his balls unload. Like this, the only thing you can do is try to swallow as best as you can in between breathing as the sound of footsteps seems to echo like a death march towards the three of you in the smaller space.

“Damn, whoever you have in there must be a hell of a fuck.” Called from the other side and you feel your face start to burn trying to ignore the sound of running away.

“I sure am~” Vash calls trying to keep his tone light and you swear you feel him throb again in your core. “Not every day you make your man moan like a whore.” You’re mortified while Vash is having a casual conversation with someone in a bathroom. While you’ve got Nicholas balls deep in your throat and just swallowed the largest load you’ve felt from the big guy while your feet are dangling off the ground held up by your thighs.

A whistle and you don’t miss what the guy says over the pounding in your head over your embarrassment but when the steps recede and the door opens and closes again you find your feet placed back on the ground and Vash slipping out of your core.

Slowly standing you reach up to wipe at your lips while Nicholas is working to clean around his balls from the amount of slobber you left on him before tucking himself back inside his pants. Turning to Vash you feel a little dizzy seeing him grin.

“Sweetheart.” He’s gentle as he grabs some toilet paper to dab under your nose. “That was the best bathroom sex I’ve ever had.” Giving a soft giggle before leaning in to kiss your forehead. “You had Nico’s cum dripping from your nose.”

Feeling yourself flush at that you look to the floor before chuckling. “Can we go home and fuck everywhere in the apartment. I don’t think I could handle someone else walking in on that.”

“Of course Little Bear. Just tell us you had as much fun as we did.” You just grin and Nicholas takes one of your hands to kiss the back of while Vash goes about trying to fix your skirt and underwear before the three of you take off.

“I’ve had the most fun tonight, and I can’t wait to keep having fun.” Slipping out of the bathroom is almost as easy as it was slipping in, and you can’t help but feel giddy as the adrenaline of what you just did courses through you. You can’t wait to get home and have the night continue, for now, you just need to survive the cab ride back.

At least you don’t have to worry about hiding a chub like your boyfriends. Damn, you feel bad for whatever cab driver stops for the three of you tonight.

Chapter 8

Master list for Roommates

#trigun #trigun smut #vash the stampede #vash x reader #nicholas d. wolfwood #trigun stampede #twink writes #vashwood #wolfwood x reader #vash smut #wolfwood smut #trimax #modern au #vash x reader x wolfwood

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winesink · 5 months

Text

How Easy You Are to Need

Sansan one shot (for now). Porn with some plot, mutual masturbation, sex ed teacher Sandor, blink and you miss it pet play, open/ambiguous ending. CW for non-con kissing (not from Sandor), and Sansa slapping the Hound (dw he's into it)

summary: There was a proper response to this, she knew. Some well-established line Septa Mordane had probably told her a half a hundred times. 'What to do if some non-knight touches you indecently; how to demure when you knew he was speaking in innuendos.' It was hard to remember such silly courtesies when her thoughts were otherwise occupied, comparing the Hound's sturdy, thick fingers to Dontos' fleshy, clammy grip. Dontos had smelled vaguely of bed sores and day-old sick. He'd been stale all over but for the fog of dry white wine which now polluted Sansa's every breath. Clegane smelled like leather and iron and the sour red he preferred. Sansa hated red wines.

Still, she wanted Dontos' taste gone more thoroughly than her mouth rinse would do.

Banner by @/Cafekitsune

'Come to the godswood tonight, if you want to go home.'

Sansa had burned the note the second she'd read it but the words felt like they'd been etched into the backs of her eyelids all the same. She didn't trust her handmaids, but it had to be one of them who'd placed the note under her pillow, surely. They'd been in and out all day, a dressmaker having spent the better part of the day in Sansa's chambers, measuring and sampling fabrics for a new wardrobe. The queen had even come at some point to tut elegantly at Sansa's first choices.

Whoever it was must have been very brave. Was it a ploy? Some plot of the queen's to prove her disloyalty? Sansa doubted very much that the queen cared enough to waste her time with such, and Joffrey was too stupid to invent such a game. Varys? Littlefinger had left for the Eyrie, but everyone said that Lord Tyrion was just as cunning. Would she sneak away in the dead of night only to be met with the King's Justice?

Despite her cloudy thoughts, a small tendril of hope squirmed to life deep in her belly. The knights at court were all untrustworthy, she'd learned, but not all songs sang of knights. Florian was no knight, yet he was more gallant than any man of the Kingsuard. Well all except one, perhaps, and no knight himself. Huffing, Sansa scolded herself to not be so foolish. The Hound was loyal to Joffrey and she would do well to remember that. Just because he took no pride in beating young ladies, it did not mean he carried any notion of saving her. Nor did it make him gallant.

Still, if anyone were capable of saving her, surely none were more suited for the task than the Hound?

***

She'd been lucky. Troubles in the city had drawn the guards away from the drawbridge. Sansa pulled her cloak closer about herself and darted over the dry moat. The king would be leading a raiding party beyond the gate, it seemed, his guards helping him into his armor. Sansa was frightened of being noticed, but she could not resist the urge to seek out the Hound's large figure among all the commotion. She did not see him, and despite herself, her heart soared to know it might be because he was waiting for her in the Godswood.

"With me!" The king cried, a clangor of shield banging following him out the gate.

'I hope they kill him,' she thought, fingering the hilt of the breadknife she'd hidden in her cloak. Maybe she could slip into the fray herself, pretend to be a starving peasant and slit his throat. Instead she slipped left toward the serpentine and continued on her way.

The commotion of the commons fell away as she entered the Godswood, the thick carpet of leaves and moss swallowing the sounds as she walked further and further within. This wood was not overlarge, but it was deep enough that she worried she wouldn't be able to find her accomplice's meeting place before he got tired of waiting and left.

"I feared you would not come, child."

Sansa drew up short, her back to the newcomer. The voice was low but slurred, not the harsh growl she'd expected. She turned slowly until she could make out a man's figure hiding amongst the trees. Heavyset, stumbling as he came closer, Sansa watched in horror as his blotchy and bloated face came into view. "Ser Dontos?" She cried, heartbroken. "Was it you?"

"Yes, my lady," he sighed. His breath smelled of wine and onions and his lips smacked messily. "Me," he reached out his hand.

"Don't!" She hissed. "You must never touch me."

"I am sorry my lady, I only wanted to show my gratitude to you."

"I don't care," Sansa snapped. "What do you want with me?"

"Only to help you. As you helped me."

"You're drunk, aren't you?"

“Only one cup of wine, to help my courage. If they catch me now, they’ll strip the skin off my back.”

She'd been such a fool. They would both be dead soon if this was her savior. "Who sent you?" She demanded.

“No one, sweet lady. I swear it on my honor as a knight.”

"What good is that honor?"

“I deserve that, though… I know it’s queer, but… all those years I was a knight, I was truly a fool, and now that I am a fool I think… I think I may find it in me to be a knight again, sweet lady. And all because of you… your grace, your courage. You saved me, not only from Joffrey, but from myself.” His voice dropped. “The singers say there was another fool once who was the greatest knight of all…”

Florian, he meant, but where the song had given her comfort earlier, it nearly made her gag now. She changed the subject, “How… how would you do it? Get me away?”

“Taking you from the castle, that will be the hardest. Once you’re out, there are ships that would take you home. I’d need to find the coin and make the arrangements, that’s all.”

Sansa frowned, remembering how her father had wanted to ship her and Arya off once. "When?"

"First I must find a sure way to get you from the castle when the hour is ripe. It will not be easy, nor quick. They watch me as well.”

Sansa didn't doubt that. "I will… think about your offer."

Dontos looked miffed. "You'll… think on it?"

"Yes," she answered firmly. "How can I tell you my answer?"

Ser Dontos glanced about anxiously. “The risk is too great. You must come here, to the Godswood. As often as you can. This is the safest place. The only safe place. Nowhere else. Not in your chambers nor mine nor on the steps nor in the yard, even if it seems we are alone. The stones have ears in the Red Keep, and only here may we talk freely.”

“Only here,” Sansa said. “I’ll remember.”

“And if I should seem cruel or mocking or indifferent when men are watching, forgive me, child. I have a role to play, and you must do the same. One misstep and our heads will adorn the walls as did your father’s.”

She nodded, thinking of the Hound's apathetic glare as Ser Meryn punched her in the belly. Perhaps… perhaps he wasn't quite so cruel as she had originally judged him. “I understand.”

“You will need to be brave and strong … and patient, patient above all.” Sansa frowned. She hadn't told him she'd accept. "And now you must go, before you are missed." She turned to leave but then he was grabbing her wrist. "But before you go, give your Florian a kiss." And then he was pulling her close, pressing his sloppy lips to hers and Sansa couldn't reach her knife with his grip on her wrist.

"No," she hissed, "unhand me or I'll - I'll…" But what could she do? She was alone here, her closest confidants the trees that surrounded them. Still, he seemed chastised enough for he relented, a thin rope of slimy saliva snapping between them and Sansa simply ran.

She was half way down the serpentine when a man lurched out of a hidden doorway. Sansa caromed into him and lost her balance. Iron fingers caught her by the wrist before she could fall, and a deep voice rasped at her. “It’s a long roll down the serpentine, little bird. Want to kill us both?” His laughter was rough as a saw on stone. The Hound. “Maybe you do.”

Sansa tried to protest but he wasn't in the mood to listen, evidently. "What's Joff's little bird doing flying down the serpentine in the black of night? Answer me," he demanded, shaking her.

Her head tossed limply once, twice, before he stopped shaking and simply held her upright. She settled her hair and stared boldly up at him, taking in the way the torches striped his twisted flesh - the red and cratered bits that had healed bad, and the gnarled black flesh that had healed worse. A spot of bone was visible at his jaw, flashing between deep folds of skin that seeped red when he spoke. But his eye was still good and Sansa thought maybe that was the worst of it. Even swimming in wine, his hard gray eyes all but glinted with implacable fury.

Sometimes, in the throne room, when Joff was having her beaten, she would look up at the Hound's horrible, ugly face and his strong stature, and imagined carving another pound of flesh from him: a solid chunk of muscle, perhaps his bicep, which she could stretch and mold into a good stiff leather with which to armor herself. He had plenty to spare. It was a stupid, childish thought, but one she often found herself leaning on. Perhaps it was this ill-thought notion of stealing his strength that had her answering honestly:

"In the Godswood. Ser Dontos, he… he-."

"He what?" The Hound rasped, drawing her closer as he continued to leer down at her.

But he was drunk, and murderous, and it would be a shame to save the fool's life just to send the Hound after him. "It's only… I was there, praying for the king's safe return. And I found him winesick. I tried -."

The Hound had spit at her well wishes, however, and he dropped her altogether when he deemed Dontos no threat. "Think I'm so drunk I'd believe that?" When he stepped away from her, he swayed slightly, and Sansa briefly worried he would tumble down the serpentine. There'd be no catching him.

He was unconcerned. "Bloody hells, look at you. You're a woman, now. Face, teats… you're tall for a woman, you know?" Sansa eyed his shoulder, suddenly realizing most women were probably unable to do such a thing. "These knights almost can't be blamed, can they? All so desperate to lay a hand on you in anyway they can." His voice had dropped to a deep growl, so low she could feel it in her own chest. "But you're still a stupid little bird, aren't you? Singing all the songs they taught you… 'No, please, don't hurt him,'" he mocked and it took her a moment to realize that was supposed to be her, begging mercy for Dontos. "Sing me a song, why don’t you? Go on. Sing to me. Some song about knights and fair maids. You like knights still, don’t you?”

'Give your Florian a kiss.'

'I know a song,' she thought bitterly, 'one you'll rage to hear.' But the Hound would kill Ser Dontos if she told him tonight, and she may never get another offer to leave, so she kept her mouth shut.

At some point he'd leaned closer again, his sour breath displacing the wispy curls around her face that never laid flat in the southron humidity. "You're no knight, my lord."

"Nor am I a lord, little bird. Do I need to beat that into you?" The grip was back at her arm, tightening almost painfully, but it was still much lighter than Ser Boros's bruising grasp. It's his armor, she realized. He only wanted to scare her again.

"You won't hurt me," she breathed and she watched his scowl - the Hound's scowl - melt away as his grasp did.

"No, little bird, I won't hurt you." He gave his head a shake, scrubbed his hand over the unmarred side of his face. "Drunk as a dog, damn me. You come now. Back to your cage, little bird. I’ll take you there. Keep you safe." And then he gave her a gentle push back out the alcove and followed behind her like a proper escort would as she continued on down the serpentine.

They ran into some trouble at Maegor's gate when Ser Boros questioned their whereabouts and how Sansa had been outside the walls at such an hour. But all obstacles were easy when you were as strong and frightening as the Hound, it seemed, for he only had to growl some threats about telling the queen how Sansa had slipped all their minds, and the gates were opened for them promptly.

"Why do you let people call you a dog?" Sansa asked, once the Hound had summarily dismissed Ser Boros.

He'd sobered some throughout their walk, and his voice was steady when he told her about how his grandfather had earned his title. "A hound will die for you, but never lie to you. And he'll look you straight in the face." He cupped her under the jaw, raising her chin, his fingers pinching her painfully. "And that's more than little birds can do, isn't it? I never got my song."

There was a proper response to this, she knew. Some well-established line Septa Mordane had probably told her a half a hundred times. 'What to do if some non-knight touches you indecently; how to demure when you knew he was speaking in innuendos.' It was hard to remember such silly courtesies when her thoughts were otherwise occupied, comparing the Hound's sturdy, thick fingers to Dontos' fleshy, clammy grip. Dontos had smelled vaguely of bed sores and day-old sick. He'd been stale all over but for the fog of dry white wine which now polluted Sansa's every breath. Clegane smelled like leather and iron and the sour red he preferred. Sansa hated red wines.

Still, she wanted Dontos' taste gone more thoroughly than her mouth rinse would do.

Some wild daring took over her. Sansa grabbed the Hound's arm and tugged, elated when he either allowed himself to be tipped, or stumbled in his drunkeness. She placed her hands on his shoulders, the better to stand on her toes. 'You're tall,' he'd said, but not quite tall enough. So she slipped one hand into the hair at the back of his head and pulled him down until she could press her lips to his. It was strange, unpracticed. The scarring at the side of his mouth was hard and unyielding, but she found she liked it better than Dontos's slobbery lips.

The Hound was like stone under her affections for a moment, too shocked to do anything besides grip her chin even tighter, and then he growled low in his chest, the vibrations stiffening her nipples where they pressed into his armor. His arm snaked around her waist, the other cupping her neck delicately, as if he was afraid to hurt her. And then he was opening his mouth and her lips were following his and he slid his tongue along the ridge of her teeth and Sansa nearly gagged on the taste of his sour red wine.

She pulled away from him in a flash, remembering herself. The Hound didn't look surprised by her reticence, grinning like a fool at her shocked face and that was worse than anything had been tonight, she thought, so she slapped him across the unmarred side of his face and slammed the door on him, his laughter echoing off the stone walls of the hall until her room seemed to be shaking with it.

***

Everyone said that the Imp could not be trusted, and as Sansa watched Tyrion soundly reject Robb's peace terms from the Iron Throne, Sansa could see why. The Hand was deft, negotiating his own terms in such a way that showed exactly what the crown thought of Robb's peace; and when the envoy declared as such, Tyrion reminded Ser Cleos that Robb stood alone with no possible hope for allies while Kings Stannis and Renly battered each other to bits in Storm's End.

He did offer two northern hostages for every Lannister, which would appease Robb - though he posed it in such a way that had the court laughing about their value - and he graciously promised to return her father's bones as a token of Joffrey's good faith. The king himself wasn't available to comment on that, of course, and Sansa couldn't help noticing that the only thing of value Tyrion had relented, was something that wasn't doing a single southerner any good.

"Lord Stark asked for his sisters and his father's sword as well," Ser Cleos reminded the little lord.

"Ice," Tyrion corrected absently, eying Ser Ilyn, where the sword in question could be seen over the man's shoulder. Sansa wanted to rip the name from his mouth, the sword from the false knight's back. But of course, she could do neither, so she stood silently and waited for Lord Tyrion's verdict. "He'll have that when he makes his peace with us, not before."

"As you say. And his sisters?"

The Imp's eyes found Sansa's briefly from across the throne room. He looked troubled, but not enough to change his mind. “Until such time as he frees my brother Jaime, unharmed, they shall remain here as hostages. How well they are treated depends on him.”

Sansa's heart ached to hear it, though it could very well have been the broad bruise that covered her chest hurting instead. Ser Mandon had thrown her roughly to the floor the night previous and she hadn't been able to catch herself before taking the ledge of a step on her breast. She viciously hoped Ser Jaimie was being tortured even worse than herself. Fair was only fair, especially seeing as Arya may very well be dead.

A Black Brother begged audience then and Sansa made her excuses as she exited the hall, Ser Preston in tow. Her bastard brother Jon was at Castle Black now, and Sansa couldn't bear to hear what troubles he was facing as well as the rest of her family. She was glad, however, that Tyrion would be hearing the man's petition instead of Joffrey or the queen. Tyrion had visited the Wall after accompanying King Robert to Winterfell and by all accounts the experience had been eye opening for him. The other Lannisters would have laughed him off outright, but Tyrion may actually help.

She was also glad for Tyrion's presence because it meant she hadn't had to see Joffrey. Or the Hound.

The Gods had been kind enough to keep them apart ever since she'd thrown herself at him a few nights prior and Sansa was ever so grateful because she could imagine what he thought of her. If she'd been a stupid little bird before, he must think her still a child now - to steal a kiss from a grown man and then get so overwhelmed as to slap him for it. Gods, but Sansa had never slapped anyone in her life; Septa Mordane and her lady mother both would have dropped dead on the spot if she had.

She would have to apologize eventually, she knew, but the prospect had kept her up the past few nights. The thought of tracking the Hound to some quiet, abandoned corner of the castle was upsetting enough. To then subject herself to the humiliation of acknowledging what she'd done was unbearable. More than once, she'd managed to convince herself the man had been too far in his cups to remember, but for some reason, that thought upset her nearly as much as the other.

Tired, Sansa returned to her chambers. It was too early to retire, but there was some mending she wanted to get done and no one had requested her presence that night so she shut the door in quiet Ser Preston's face and sat at her window until her bedmaid came to prepare her for sleep.

It was dark as pitch in her room when a thud at her door woke her. Sansa gasped as she woke, sitting bolt upright as she tried to orient herself. She'd been dreaming of Lady, of hunting in Winterfell's Godswood, of sitting under the Heart Tree and licking the blood from her paws daintily. But her room in King's Landing was too hot, despite her banked coals having burned themselves out, and she'd no blood on her hands.

The knock came again - no, no knock. A heavy gauntlet at her door that she'd come to know well. Sansa shivered despite the oppressive heat she felt. This was worse than any daydream of hunting Clegane down, surely. If sequestering him in an empty storeroom had been a daunting possibility, having him in her rooms demanding an apology was downright unnerving.

Slipping out of her bed, she found a robe - the lighter one that clung like fine silk but wouldn't make her sweat as much - and pulled her door open for her guest.

He stood closer than she'd been expecting, as if trying to shelter his massive frame under her door jamb. "Ser?" she peeped, but he brushed her aside and strode into her room. By the sound of his scraping boots, he only made it a few steps before drawing to a halt.

"The coals must have died," Sansa supplied lamely, bolting the door on instinct. The only thing worse than the Hound being in her room, was the whole court knowing the Hound was in her room. The last thing she needed was an overeager bedmaid coming to check on her now. He grunted and moved toward the fireplace, sifting through the hot ash until he found a kernel of heat strong enough to stoke to life. Sansa stood awkwardly to the side and waited until the low light unfolded enough that she could see his frame. He wore no armor tonight, she was surprised to find. Which meant his bare fist had pounded against her door so ominously. Sansa's skin prickled. "You don't have to do that, Ser, it's rather warm in here."

"Want to see you." The Hound turned to her finally. Backlit by the coals and kneeling, he looked more beast than man - a hellhound crawling from the deepest pit to warm himself at her hearth.

"Oh," was all she could muster, remembering the last time he'd seen her. He'd be angry tonight, she knew. The fearsome Hound she'd hated so much back at that stupid inn on the Kingsroad. "I'm sorry, Ser, for the way I -."

"Shove it," he growled, standing and walking to the small seat at her table. It creaked ominously under his weight as he sat. "Rather not hear how very sorry you are for the best thing that's ever happened in my miserable life."

"Ser?"

"Not a 'Ser,' girl," he snapped. "You went around shoving your tongue down knights' throats, you know what they'd do to you?" Sansa was too shamed to answer. That had not been what she'd done, he'd done that; but it wouldn't do any good to go reminding him what she had done. "Save your 'Sers.' I'm no knight, just a dog begging for any scraps you're willing to throw my way."

He wouldn't stop staring at her. It was hard to meet his eye, but she knew how much it displeased him when she looked away so she tried her best. Could it be that he'd liked how she'd kissed him? The Hound hated liars most of all, he wouldn't say as much just to spare her feelings. "But I slapped you," she reminded him, her blush creeping down to her collar now.

"Aye, you did," he allowed, but his tone didn't match the situation at all. If anything he seemed… amused, perhaps? His mouth twisted in a feral grin, his eyes absolutely gleaming with something she was slowly becoming familiar as they raked over Sansa's form.

This was… not something she'd expected. Sansa was a woman grown and not naïve to the ways of men and women. And no one lived in the Capital for long without learning about whores with… specialties… so she understood that some men had specific tastes. But Sansa had been slapped many times by now and she could not understand the appeal. "And this… pleased you?"

Sandor snorted, the moment cracking around the edges but not quite breaking. He leaned forward in his seat until she thought he might fall out. "Pleased me more than once, I admit."

"Oh," Sansa peeped. He meant to scare her, she knew, but the image of the Hound finding his own release as he thought of her hands on him washed a wave of goosepimples up her arms that had nothing to do with fear.

"So bloody proper," he rasped, though he sounded more revenant than accusatory. "You've never even pleased yourself, have you little bird?"

Sansa turned away from him then, under the pretense of finding a seat. She flit about for a moment, only remembering her room was not intended for two when she found no chair for herself. She eyed her bed suspiciously for a moment, as if it would tattle to her septa that she'd allowed a man into her room and then entered her bed if she did so; but she sat on the very edge of it all the same. Her fluttering, of course, didn't do her much good. Sandor's hulking form and wolfish gaze had etched themselves into her mind; the way the low light was swallowed by his dark hair and his dark eyes and his dark clothes until he seemed a phantom come to torment her would haunt her even in the daylight, she knew. "No," she finally whispered, and the Hound laughed.

"Of course not. Bet you didn't even know you could."

Sansa knew that some women could find happiness in their marriage bed, though she knew it was uncommon and everyone seemed to agree it was mostly up to the husband's disposition. "I thought… I thought any pleasure to be found in… that… was to come from the hu- the man."

"That's what your septa taught you no doubt," the Hound agreed, though his tone was softer now and Sansa could manage to peek at him. "They lied to you, girl. You can please yourself better than most men."

Sansa frowned, her thoughts turning to Joffrey and the long life of misery she most likely faced. "How?" She breathed.

It was the right thing to say, it seemed. The Hound growled and kicked the table away from himself, leaning forward eagerly into the space he'd created, his eyes alight like the coals he had stoked earlier. He was so… big. Sansa sometimes forgot, used as she'd become to his presence. But even unarmored and folded into a too-small chair, he seemed to loom across her room in a way she could not get away from. The table had been pushed far enough away from him that she could see him fully now: his legs spread and stretched out before him, his elbows perched carelessly on the arms of the chair. "Will you lean back for me?" He requested and Sansa found she did not want to deny him anything right then. So she did as bid, planting her palms behind her and shifting her weight more solidly onto them. Her thin silk robe pulled open at her chest but not quite enough to reveal her breasts through the thin fabric of her shift.

Sansa wasn't sure she would even care if it did.

"Good girl," the Hound praised and Sansa suppressed a mewl. She'd always been such a good girl; she could be a good girl now. "Spread your legs." Sansa did, her robe only holding on by the stay at her waist now. The Hound took a moment to look her over, his gaze just as consuming as it was when he practiced in the training yard. Sansa remembered watching him from afar, how he would laugh as he kicked blooded knights into the dirt.

"I'm going to touch you now. Over your shift. You'll tell me if you want me to stop." Sansa was nodding before she knew what she was about, but the Hound moved slowly enough she could have clamped her legs shut if she'd changed her mind. He slid from his seat until he knelt and then he was crawling the short distance to her bed, his gaze never leaving the apex of her thighs. She didn't like to see him on the floor, she decided, though it made her feel powerful and he looked perfectly content himself, managing not to make the motion look pathetic.

When he reached her he returned to kneeling, grabbing her ankles delicately and placing them on his knees. His eyes met hers then, holding them as he ran his palms up her calves to wrap around the backs of her knees and pull, Sansa's body sliding across her sheets until her knees were almost at his ears. Her breath stuttered in shock but the Hound never faltered, one hand sliding up under her robe to wrap around her rear as the other skimmed up to her waist. He paused there, rubbing his thumb across the crest of her hip for a moment, the fabric catching on his calluses. He seemed like he was waiting on something but Sansa was beyond words so she pulled one hand out from under her and brought her knuckles to his face, stroking his brow in kind. Sandor sighed at that, the gust of hot air seeping through Sansa's shift to warm her thighs. And then the hand at her hip was sliding inward, her shift bunching until he could press two thick fingers to her sex and she was mortified to find she was wet - the embarrassing kind of slick that only happened when she watched the knights in the training yard - and worse, enough that the Hound could feel it through her shift and her small clothes! But the Hound only cursed under his breath and took a shaky, calming breath, stroking her there minutely all the while.

"This is your cunt," he told her. His voice sounded broken, the whetstone scrape having finally honed the blade brittle. "You can press your little fingers in there if you want but not too deep. You'll feel your maidenhead in there. About a knuckle deep. Don't break it, that's for His Fucking Grace, remember?" Sansa nodded, but the Hound wasn't looking at her. His eyes were locked where he touched her and Sansa wondered if he was talking to himself then. "You're wet." Again his voice cracked. "That's good. So fucking good. Your slick comes from here, little bird. Coat your fingers, as much as you want."

And then his fingers were moving up, dragging the fabric against her sensitive skin until he met the little fold at the front of her sex and Sansa gasped, her own hand sliding up until her fingers sank into Sandor's hair and if possible he leaned in closer, his shoulders pushing her knees impossibly wide and his breath creating a hot pocket of warmth at her tummy. He adjusted his hand until his fingers framed some tiny piece of flesh, pulling the fabric of her smallclothes across the sensitive pebble as he moved his fingers in a miniscule circle.

"This is your pearl, little bird," he growled. "This is where you'll find your pleasure when you're all alone in your little cage. Or if a man isn't doing his job properly." His fingers pressed harder and Sansa moaned quietly, her own digits clutching at his scalp and in her bedding. The grip he had around her bottom tightened and he drew her even closer, pressing his nose to the fabric folded into the crease of her hip and scenting her fully, groaning.

Sansa felt like her bed would swallow her up at any second. Or maybe the Hound would. Or maybe the coals in her fireplace would catch and consume them both. She was hot all over but she shook as if the coldest winds of winter were raking across her skin. Her robe had bunched up enough that it had fallen completely away from her breasts and they heaved with her panting, feeling heavier by far than she knew they were. Her nipples had pebbled until they were visible through her shift and she had a sudden urge to touch herself there so she dropped her weight more fully onto her elbow and removed her hand from the Hound's hair to cup her breast, testing its weight. Then her fingers were moving to the peak, rubbing and pinching until she hissed in pleasure.

She hadn't noticed the Hound's eyes following her movements until he spoke against her thigh, "Lick your fingers first." Sansa met his eyes and complied, coating her fingers much as he had, sucking herself down to her knuckles. The Hound grunted like a beast, his pace increasing until Sansa mewled and then her fingers were back at her breast but her saliva wasn't quite as thick and it didn't soak through her shift the way her slick had. Frustrated and beyond caring, wanting to feel everything the Hound directed her to feel, she tugged at her stays harshly until her front panels fell away and her breasts were exposed to the humid air of the room and she was pinching at her nipples again.

Sansa sighed just as the Hound cursed, his fingers dipping down to soak her slip in more slick, as if he could tell her own were no longer wet. "Your lord husband will lick you there, if you're lucky." He growled.

"Joffrey won't lick me anywhere." Her voice was ragged. When had that happened?

Sandor didn't respond but his finger returned to her pearl and it felt better now with less friction; so Sansa took his queue, only - he'd said her husband would lick her there and suddenly she wanted the Hound's mouth on her and she was sitting up enough to push her fingers into his mouth and the Hound moaned obscenely, sucking on her digits and coating them with his tongue until she deemed them wet enough and returned them to her nipple.

He was right, that was much better.

The Hound was panting just as much as she was now, staring up at her reverently. When she met his eyes his grip changed: a press of the pad of one finger directly to the nerve bundle and Sansa nearly screamed.

"There, please," she moaned and the Hound groaned, pressing harder against her bud and speeding up until she was shaking, her legs trying to clamp shut on his hand but his massive body was in the way so she was left open, vulnerable to his ruthless assault until her body bowed and she was gasping, his name a litany she couldn't stop reciting.

His fingers slowed and gentled, each slide of fabric so overwhelming it nearly hurt until he stopped altogether, their breathing so loud it almost echoed in her silent room. She sat up until she could see him again, his eyes boring holes into her. He was still panting, she noticed, and she wondered if he breathed like that when he found his release as well.

"Good girl," he praised again and Sansa shivered. His hands pulled away from her and she felt so bereft she was following them, sliding from the bed until she sat in his lap and she was kissing him again. He groaned low in his throat and pulled her closer, an arm around her hips and the other hand at the nape of her neck and this time when he pushed his tongue to her teeth she was opening gratefully, trying to suck on his tongue as he had done with her fingers. His breath did not taste like wine tonight.

The arm around her hips pulled her impossibly closer, her shift riding up until her small clothes pressed to his breeches and - oh gods, that was his manhood. Hot and hard and pressed against her soaked sex. "Sandor," she whined, unsure what she wanted.

"I know," he breathed against her lips, and then he was using his grip to push her more firmly against himself and they were so close now she could feel him twitch. It should hurt, she thought, with how sensitive she had been only moments earlier, but he'd never hurt her before and he certainly wasn't now so she moved with him until he was growling in frustration and lifting her back onto her bed - as if she weighed a feather, she noted with a shutter.

"Show me what you've learned little bird," he prompted, his hands sliding up the skirt of her shift again but Sansa felt like she was boiling out of her skin and even the paltry weight of it was too much to bear so she yanked her skirts up over her hips, shifting the bulk behind her until she could see her smallclothes and she was mortified to be seen like this but the Hound was groaning again and palming his thickness through his breeches so it was all okay, wasn't it? Emboldened, Sansa pulled the stays of her small clothes and the Hound leapt into action with a curse, sliding them down her legs and throwing them to the side. He slid his hands back up her ankles, prying her legs apart when she inevitably tried to hide herself away again.

"Show me," he rasped, "let me see your pretty red cunt." Sansa blushed but complied, leaning back as she had before so he could look his fill. "Gods, Sansa. So damn good for me. Look at you. So wet."

As if disbelieving, Sansa pushed her fingers to her core, though her petals were in the way so she spread them, noting how his breath hitched. "What are these?" She asked sweetly, petting the folds of silky skin just to watch how his eyes followed the motion.

"Those are your lips, girl. Keep teasing me with them and I'll show you how they like to be kissed, too." Sansa gasped, her legs trying to snap closed again. He wouldn't. That was so vulgar! But the Hound only held her legs wide and laughed, his breath fanning across her exposed flesh. "No? That's okay. Someday, when the king has put a dozen babes in you and never once made you cum you'll come crawling back to your old dog, begging me to lick you clean."

The thought of it all revolted her - Joffrey and his babes, the Hound's mouth on her there; but his eagerness sparked something in her. 'Your old dog.' "And you would? Even then?"

The Hound scoffed, his hands engulfing her calves and rubbing at her muscles. "If there's ever a day I refuse an invitation to eat your sweet cunny just slit my throat and be done with it."

Sansa smiled despite his crude words, her fingers dipping down to her center to push her slick around as he had done. She'd pressed a fingertip inside herself once out of curiosity, but she hadn't been wet the way she was now and she'd thought the whole affair very overrated. Now, however, coated in her juices and with the Hound's eyes devouring her every move, she felt strangely empty and she remembered what he'd said about pressing her little fingers in. She wanted to try again.

Sandor's grip was like iron on her legs as he watched, his breath puffing across her heated skin. Sansa pressed the tip of her middle finger against her entrance and pushed until the silky sheath gave and she dipped into herself. It was still strange, she decided, but not unpleasant as it had been before, so she pushed a little deeper into herself until her bravery ran out, about knuckle deep.

"Curl your finger," the Hound suggested, so she did and it was pleasant - made her feel more full - but still not what she'd been led to believe it would be. "Does the wall there feel different from the others?" Sansa spun her finger to test but shook her head. The Hound nodded knowingly. "I don't think you'll be able to find release in there until after you lose your maidenhead, but you can tease yourself as much as you like. Try another finger."

The thought frightened her. Surely that would tear her open? But the Hound had said it would be fine and he hadn't steered her wrong yet, so she lined her ring finger up with her middle and pushed both digits in - slowly at first when the stretch startled her, and then more eagerly when she found it quite pleasant.

"Good girl," the Hound breathed. One of his hands slid from her calf down to her ankle again, his grip twitching as if he had something in mind he'd rather be doing with his hand.

"Are you going to touch yourself too, Ser?"

For once, Sandor Clegane did not balk at the title. He made a noise like she'd kicked him in the belly and his grip tightened on her ankle for a moment but then he cleared his throat and told her, "Not yet, little bird. Want to watch you cum when I do."

"Then will you touch me?"

The Hound groaned and used his grip to pull her closer. His mouth fell to her thigh and at first she thought he would bite her, but his teeth only clenched minutely on the taut muscle and his lips kissed the mark as if to soothe her. "Not tonight. I'll fuck you bloody if I do."

Sansa didn't think she would mind that, but that didn't make it a good idea. She curled her fingers inside herself a few times just to test the way it felt but then she removed them and pulled upward, searching for her pearl. They both moaned when she found it. Sansa first tried touching it directly the way he'd been doing when she'd peaked. It felt great but it made her shake too much almost immediately and she found she could not maintain the contact on her own. So she framed the nub between two fingers and tried that way, sighing as she found a slow but promising rhythm.

"How do you feel?"

Sansa felt a lot of things, altogether, but there was only one thing at the front of her mind: "Empty."

The Hound huffed a breath that might have been a laugh. "Have you ever seen a man's cock?"

"Yes." She had, once, when she and Jeyne went peaking around in the Godswood and saw a man bathing in the hot springs.

"Do you think it could fill you?"

"No." She wasn't certain, really. But he'd seemed small from her vantage point, and the ache in her womb felt far deeper than he'd be able to reach.

He did laugh then, and his hands left her legs. There was a rustling of fabric, the sound of skin on skin. "I'm a big man, little bird. Do you think I could fill you?"

Sansa sat up and spread the leg the Hound wasn't leaning on. He was slumped forward and hiding himself but leaned his shoulder away when he realized she was looking until she could see down his front, all the way down to where he'd removed his cock from his breeches, one fist wrapped around the base.

"Yes," she breathed.

The Hound said nothing but his gaze became consuming again, his fist beginning to stroke his cock until the bulbous head disappeared into his strong fist, fucking back through his grip in a way that had him twitching. The Hound was big. And thick. And veiny. His cock was ugly, really, but it was ugly in the same way his nose was - which was to say not at all - and Sansa's womb gave a longing twinge; she just knew he'd be able to soothe her ache.

"There's a place deep in your cunt, you know," he told her, as if able to read her thoughts. "Behind your maidenhead. Some men won't be able to reach it, but it will bring you the most pleasure."

"You could reach it." He could probably reach her heart with that thing.

"Aye, I could reach it. Fuck you good and deep until you begged me to put a pup in you," he promised; and that was - oh.

Sansa moaned, her movements speeding up. She wanted that violently all the sudden; imagining the Hound's bastards running around right under Joffrey's nose. The Hound had a northern look, she could pretend they'd taken after her father. Joffrey would have a conniption.

"The little bird wants her dog's pups, is that it?" He growled, his movements accelerating to match hers.

"Yes," she hissed.

"You're so bloody perfect," the Hound praised and Sansa keened. She felt like she would shake apart, but the Hound would keep her together. "No one else has ever seen you like this. No one else ever will."

"Only you."

"You'll never do this for the king."

"Never."

"Only for your old dog."

"Sandor -!"

"Come for me, little bird, sing me my favorite song." And Sansa was a good girl so she did as she was told. She made noises, she knew, but she barely heard them over the Hound's own grunts and groans, his praises of 'good girl,' and 'just like that,' and 'fucking perfect, princess.'

She'd leaned back at some point to paw at her breast but she could at least hear his movements slow and still, the ragged breaths evening out until he sighed deeply and pressed another kiss to her thigh. He leaned back enough he could bring her legs back together, soothing his palms along her flesh like he would a spooked horse.

Sansa was lost for words but he didn't seem to need to hear them. Eventually he stood with a loud pop of his knees that had her wincing in sympathy and moved to her vanity where Sansa heard her flagon of water being poured. Figuring he was pouring himself a glass, Sansa sat up and began to adjust her shift back but then the Hound was between her legs again, far too silent for someone so big. He hushed her gently and ran a wet cloth up her thigh to let her know what he was about and then he was wiping her there and somehow that was far more embarrassing than anything they'd done up 'til then.

"Sandor you don't -."

"I do."

"But it's… dirty."

"That's the problem," he agreed, but his voice was light and teasing and he was done by then anyway. Sandor pulled another scrap of cloth up her legs and Sansa realized it was her smallclothes. She pulled them on properly and righted herself as he cleaned himself off and adjusted his own clothes.

"Can we do that again?"

"No." Sansa had enough time to feel disappointed before he continued, "Next time I'll have my own hands on you. And maybe my mouth if you'll stop squawking about it."

She pouted at him but he didn't see it, rolling her further into her bed bodily so he could lay down next to her. Sansa snuggled close happily, resting her head on his suddenly bare chest as he wrapped an arm around her. His scent was stronger now, muskier.

"Will you stay?" she found herself asking, too tired to care how desperate it made her sound.

"No." Sansa pouted. "Believe me, girl, I'd like nothing better than to watch you sleep tonight but someone will have to bar the door behind me when I leave and -."

"I could do it! Just wake me. Really, it's no trouble, I'm never still asleep by the time my handmaids come anyway."

Sandor's mouth twitched, a sure sign she'd angered him, but then he was tucking her closer to his side and sighing heavily. "A few hours, then," he conceded, and Sansa grinned against his furry pec.

"You never told me why you were out of your cage the other night," he said almost conversationally, playing with her hair. Sansa freezes. Somehow in all the scenarios she'd envisioned about confronting the Hound, she'd never considered this avenue of discussion. At her continued silence, the Hound turned stiff under her. "Little bird?"

"I told you I was in the Godswood," Sansa hedged.

"Praying for the king, aye. But what were you really doing?"

If she told the Hound the truth, he would kill Ser Dontos within the hour; and with him, the one real offer Sansa had yet been given to return home. Lord Tyrion had made it clear she would not be set aside, though Sansa desperately wanted to be free of her betrothed.

But was she desperate enough to trust a fool?

Stalling, Sansa appeased the man under her by smoothing her palm across the hard planes of his chest. She didn't truly believe Dontos was capable of getting her out of the city, let alone to safety. Sansa remembers how she'd hoped the letter had come from the very man who now occupied her bed and Gods be good, but she recalls the talk of the scullerymaids in the bowels of the keep; how a man would do anything you asked so long as he knew where his cock was always welcome.

"I found a letter under my pillow…"

Next>>

#sansan #sansan fanfiction #sansan fic #sansa stark x sandor clegane #sansa x sandor #🍷

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space-helen · 2 years

Text

Eels

Words: 2819

Pairing: Fox Mulder x Reader

A/N: I think the ending is a bit weird but I do like this! It kinda made me miss the X Files. Also can we talk about this GIF ?!?!! DAMN

Request: Fox x Reader where they have to fake being a couple for some reason? Maybe like that one episode where him and Scully have to fake being a couple? - Anon

______________________

"Excuse me." You looked the Fox dead in the eye, everyone else was quiet around you.

Skinner gently clear his throat before speaking "Y/L/N, you don't have to do this but it'd be really beneficial if you did."

You pondered it for a second. It would only be two days, two days of pretending to be Mulder's wife at a couples weekend retreat where people were returning with memory loss and burn like markings on their arms. Scully was already known by the retreat as she visited to try and speak to someone but had no luck, which meant that it had to be you and Mulder.

"Alright." You turned towards Skinner "but you all owe me."

"Am I really that bad?" Mulder teased.

"I don't think you want us answering that." Scully piped up.

"Yes, yes you are." Skinner deadpanned which had everyone letting out a brief laugh "Alright, get out of here. Bring us back something good."

Your car pulled up outside of the retreat. It was beautiful, you couldn't deny that. Opening the door Mulder and you were greeted by the owners, Mr and Mrs O'Donell who immediately welcomed you and asked if you had a reservation.

"Mr and Mrs Brent." You held out your hand to shake the owner's. The two of you had been given fake I.Ds for a Mr Scott Brent and Mrs Lucy Brent.

"We've heard so much about this place. I'm sorry we're late we hit a lot of traffic" Mulder added offering his own hand.

"We've been expecting you" Mrs O'Donell said kindly. "We do however, keep a strict schedule that we expect everyone to stick to, no exceptions."

"I thought this was supposed to be a relaxing retreat." Mulder attempted to joke.

"We understand" you chipped in and gave Mulder a nudge.

The older man gave the two of you a suspicious look and Mulder wrapped his arm around you bringing you into his side. All you could do was smile and look up to the man.

It must have been convincing enough because Mr O'Donell looked away and Mrs O'Donell smiled. She began to walk towards the entrance, her husband in step beside her. Mulder removed his arm from around you and offered you his hand. Taking it the two of you walked hand in hand into the building.

"Lovely place you have" you spoke as you admired the tall ceilings adorned with flowers and vines where they connected to the walls.

"Thank you" Mrs O'Donnell replied as she and her husband moved behind what you could only assume was the reception desk.

"Could we see some form of identification please" Mr O'Donell said roughly as his wife pulled out a book and a file which she quickly labelled 'Brent, S.L'

Mulder quickly pulled out the IDs you'd been given and you watched as they inspected them and scribbled down notes.

“Dinner will be in an hour on the dot, followed by introductions and a sample of what’s to come tomorrow.”

“We’ll be there.” you replied as Mulder looked around the room. Mrs O’Donell gave you a polite nod before disappearing and closing the door behind her.

“It’s a lot smaller than I thought it’d be.” you had to admit the man was right. There was a double bed, wardrobe and small desk with a TV on a dresser, barely enough room for the two of you to move around. The bathroom connected to the room was very much the same. Definitely a step down in quality compared to the rest of the resort.

“I suppose they don’t imagine us staying in here all that much so have made the rooms to reflect that and force us to join the activities.” you took a seat on the edge of the bed as you spoke, watching as Mulder switched on the TV and tried navigating some channels but was met with static and no service on most of them.

“Looks like we’re spoilt for choice.” the man spoke light heartedly as he turned the TV off and flopped onto the bed. Lying down he looked at the ceiling as you awkwardly looked around the room. He noticed this and turned his head towards you “Relax Y/N, we’ll be fine.”

“I know. Something feels really off about this place though. Almost sinister and we haven’t even been here an hour yet.”

The man patted the bed beside him and you relaxed a bit, reclining back so your back was against the headboard in a more relaxed position as Mulder scrambled to mirror you on the other side of the bed.

“We’ll do some proper exploring after dinner if they allow and if they don’t, we’ll find a way to explore anyway. The quicker we find stuff out the sooner we might be able to get home” he said nonchalantly.

You smiled “I suppose. Unless we actually really enjoy ourselves.”

“In a place where people have been losing their memory and get mysterious burns? How could we not enjoy ourselves.”

You laughed a little at his words. The two of you had always got on well, hell you couldn’t think a time where you hadn’t got along, your reaction to having the fake be Mulder’s wife had been a little over dramatic but you loved Mulder as a friend and didn’t want to jepordise that at all because you knew, if you had to act like his wife you might actually develop feelings for him and then after that? There was no way back.

“We should probably get ready for dinner.” his words brought you out of your thoughts. He pushed himself up off the bed. “I’ll get changed in the bathroom you can get changed out here.”

The meal and introductions were weird. Everyone else had been here much longer than you had and were planning on staying. One noticeable thing was that the longer they’d been here the less light they seemed to have behind their eyes. But everyone was still aware of their surroundings and very much ‘there’.

You noticed only a few of couples, the ones who were leaving soon, but not necessarily the ones who’d been here the longest, with the markings on them, but they seemed to be trying to hide them.

Introductions and dinner over, the O’Donells offered everyone some tea. “For our new guests today, the tea is drunk all throughout the retreat. It revitalises the body and mind and relaxes you to allow a full enjoyment of what we have to offer.”

You gave Mulder an unsure look, and watched as the O’Donells watched the two of you. You were both on the same page, you did not want to drink the tea.

“They’re watching us” you whispered under your breath.

The man nodded and smiled, pretending you’d just told him a joke. “Just take a sip and we’ll dump the rest.”

You did as instructed. Taking a sip of the tea and keeping the rest in your cup. Mulder stood and emptied his as he was talking to other people.

Mrs O’Donell approached you and asked why you hadn’t drunk the whole thing.

“I like to have a drink just before bed and I’m getting tired. I thought I’d keep it until just before bed if that’s ok with you?”

The woman thought it over for a second “I suppose so. But you must drink it, my dear. If you don’t you might risk losing your place here.”

You nodded “I’ll be sure to. I don’t want to miss out.” you gave her a sweet smile and she weaved through the crowd, talking to people as she passed.

Mulder was soon with you again. Taking your hand he gave it a squeeze and was soon guiding you back to your room. You could tell he had something to say.

“The other guests are totally brainwashed,” he whispered as he tried to find the room key.

“I have it.” you pulled out the key and unlocked the door “You let me lock up.” opening it slowly you tried to see if the string was still on the inside of the lock. An old trick you’d learnt to do when you weren’t sure of the security in a building. Noticing the string was on the floor, several feet away from the door you knew instantly someone had been in the room.

Your eyes went wide as you stepped inside. Dragging Mulder inside you closed the door and placed a finger to your lips a sign for him to stay quiet as you pointed at the string on the floor.

Confused he watched as you paced the room, looking at every surface and under them. When you found what you were looking for you gestured for Mulder to come and look. A bug, your room had been bugged while you were at dinner.

Dragging him into the bathroom you looked around before turning the shower on to hopefully cover up some noise.

“I knew it. I absolutely knew it.” you ran a hand over your hair.

“I guess we weren’t convincing enough earlier.” the man tried to joked but realised as soon as he’d said it that now wasn’t the right time.

You paced the tiny bathroom “We’ll have to act like a proper couple everywhere but in here and only ever with the shower on.”

The man agreed and noticed you were clutching your tea cup “Why do you still have that.”

You looked down at it. “I thought we could send a sample back to Scully, see what she can find out. Its definitely the tea.”

“And if the tea has something to do with it. Do you think the food does too? The potatoes tasted a little funny.”

You sighed “Probably. I guess we eat and drink as little as possible. It’s going to be tough but I’d rather not end up like the others.”

He nodded in agreement. “How’re you going to get that back to Scully.”

“I brought some vials with us. Hopefully they’ll let me run to the town to post it tomorrow morning.”

“And you could sneak us in some snacks.”

You laughed “Great thinking.” you relaxed slightly and placed the cup on the shelf above the sink. “You ready to go back in there and be Lucy and Scott Brent?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” the man winked.

You couldn’t help the wide smile that appeared on your face as you turned away to turn off the shower. Mulder smiled as well as he opened the bathroom door and entered the main bedroom.

Grabbing your things you quickly bottled up a sample for Scully and changed into your pyjamas in the bathroom while Mulder changed. Sorting out your bag you noticed Mulder was already under the covers.

He could see you hesitating to get into bed “Come here Sweetheart.” he said gently, opening his arms to you as his eyes softened.

You got into the bed carefully and let him put his arm over your shoulders. “Today was fun don’t you think? Everyone seems lovely and that tea was ok, I could get used to it.” you spoke, knowing you needed to play up to the listening devices.

Mulder laughed softly and you could hear the rumble from his chest. “I wasn’t a huge fan but if it’s going to make this weekend better I’ll drink all the tea you want me to.”

The man cuddled you to his side more and you instinctively leant into his warmth. You sat like this for a couple of minutes. The man rubbing his hand up and down your arm before he placed a very light kiss to the top of your head which took you by surprise but you couldn’t say it wasn’t welcomed.

“We should go to sleep. Early start tomorrow.”

You nodded in agreeance and moved down the bed so you were comfortable and the man did the same, the two of you not touching once you’d settled.

You were the first to fall asleep. Mulder could only assume from the way your breathing evened out. He struggled falling asleep to begin with, listening out for any noises in the corridor but before long he’d fallen asleep as well.

In the morning you were woken up by the sound of the alarm clock and you could feel the weight of Mulder’s arm over you. Smiling you moved your hand to his after shutting off the alarm clock. “Morning,” he mumbled.

Turning around to face him you mumbled your good morning’s as well. The two of you felt as if you’d done this one thousand times before.

After a second the man sat up and rubbed his eyes. It took you longer to sit up but you got straight out of bed and dashed to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

“What’s the rush?” he joked as he was pulling on a sweater as you emerged.

“I want to go send this quickly before our morning activity starts.”

“I’ll walk you down to reception. I’ll stay here and enjoy some breakfast.”

The two of you left the room and the man offered you his hand, once again you slipped yours into his and the two of you headed down to the reception area.

Surprisingly you were allowed to leave the premises but only after a grilling from the owners.

Mulder stayed behind on his own, realising the two of you hadn’t done any exploring the night before he began to poke around. What he saw he wished he’d never set eyes upon.

Tanks filled with eels. They didn’t look like a typical eel though, these were bright green with purple spots. He could only assume that these were either producing whatever was in the tea or caused the sting.

Upon further inspection he found pumps, pumps leading the water away and meeting the main water pumps and running alongside, further confirming his suspicion about the tea.

The man took a nearby sledgehammer and smashed through some of the pipes and made his way back up to the lobby.

As soon as you got back he wrapped you up in his arms and hugged you impossibly close for a moment before whispering “I’ve found some stuff. Definitely in the tea.” in your ear.

“Although this is a couple’s retreat we suggest that guests do not show public displays of affection as some of our couples are having hard times in their relationships.” Mrs O’Donell’s voice startled you slightly.

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

The woman frowned “The first activity is in fifteen minutes.” with her words she walked away.

Mulder began to take large strides back in the direction of your room and you were quick on his heels. Once inside the room he practically pushed you into the bathroom and shoved on the shower.

Closing the door as he did so you turned towards him “What did you find?”

“Eels, huge tanks of them in the basement. They were neon green with purple spots, they had pipes from the tanks running up to the water pipes and then alongside them. I’m pretty sure they’re using the water in the tea and the eels are possibly causing the burns.” he rushed out.

“that's it, it has to be it. We should get out of here."

"Definitely, I may or may not have smashed some pipes."

"What?"

"Grab your things." He turned off the shower and you did as instructed. The man guided you out of the room once you'd grabbed your bag.

Footsteps coming down the corridor had you both freaking out slightly. The man grabbed your wrist gently and hurried you along the corridor, the both of you practically breaking out into a run.

The two of you were sprinting to the car. Slipping into it you chucked your things onto the back seats as Mulder started the ignition and sped away.

Stopping in the nearby town you ran into the sheriff's office and called Scully while you sent the officers to go and arrest the O'Donells.

Eventually, it was quiet. You and Mulder were sat together waiting.

"You did some good work back there." You complimented the man "I don't know if I could have done another night"

"We make a good team Y/N" He shifted "Was being fake married to me all that bad?"

You shook your head "it wasn't awful" you admitted "I could think of worse people."

"Like Skinner?"

"Over my dead body."

"Good. Because I quite liked it as well. How about we grab dinner once this one is put to bed?"

"Sure." You smiled and the man locked eyes with you and they sparkled in a way they hadn't done before but the moment was soon broken by Scully walking through the door

"Modified eels! You have to be kidding me."

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