#feeling i open the window to hear sounds of people etc etc

[dixons-sunshine]

Pull Through | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: While you were injured with no way of knowing if you'd make it or not, Daryl let the group in on his feelings. He shares some of his memories with you, as well as some of his worries.

Genre: Angst.

Era: Prison, post season three, pre season four.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU, but can be read as a standalone. However, some call backs are made to previous parts in this.

Warnings: Mentions of injuries.

Word count: 1.2k.

A/n: I've had this idea in my mind for another part to the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU for a while now, but I just don't know how to put it into a proper fic. This is more of a filler than an actual fic, but anyways. Hope you like this!

“Ya know, Shane wasn't the first person to tell me tha' I dun' deserve her.”

Rick looked up from his daughter to look at the archer, Daryl holding his own five month old baby girl in his arms. Rick's heart broke at the sight of his found brother's clear distress evident on his face. He was staring off at nothing in particular, thankfully lucid enough to keep Hazel in place on his lap. It was clear that your recent injury had taken its toll on Daryl, and Rick knew that if you didn't wake up from your little coma, Daryl would be a mess; he would be a bigger mess than Rick was when he lost Lori.

“My whole life, even 'fore I grew the balls to confess to her, people were tellin' me tha' I dun' deserve her, tha' I ain't good 'nough fer her, tha' she'll see it herself and leave me.” Daryl stopped for a moment, his attention temporarily being diverted to his daughter who was starting to fuss a little. He whispered sweet nothings to her in the hopes of calming her down, slightly bouncing his leg and successfully coaxing a giggle from her. “But she never left. Even when things weren't all sunshines and rainbows, she stayed. She loved me regardless of all of my flaws, and god knows I have a shit ton of 'em. She ain't ever even thought 'bout walkin' outta the door, even when she could'a, and I wouldn't have blamed her.”

By now, a few people in the group has stopped to listen to the usually quiet archer. Beth, Maggie, Glenn, Sasha, Tyreese, Hershel, Michonne, Carl and Carol stopped to listen to him. It was extremely rare to hear Daryl talk about anything outside of the usual “formal” work talk—who would go on runs, who'd work on the fence, etc.—so everyone was intrigued to hear the brooding huntsman speak his mind.

“She deserved so much better than me, and I know tha', but she didn't think so. She stuck with me through everythin'. Through most'a my childhood, through highschool, through Merle and his bullshit, everythin'.” Daryl inhaled sharply and let out a shaky exhale, trying to keep his emotions under control. “She always managed to make the most outta everythin'. When I saw a glass tha' was half empty, she saw a glass tha' was half full. Ya know, our first apartment we lived in after movin' outta her mom's trailer was so shitty.”

“Yeah?” Rick replied, just letting Daryl know that he was listening.

“Yeah,” Daryl confirmed with a broken chuckle, nodding his head and allowing Hazel to play with his fingers. “Hot water didn't work most'a the time, the oven only worked when it wanted to, the pipes made this weird screeching sound whenever it was cold, and the window to our bedroom was jammed shut. It never opened, so it was hella hot in the summer.” He sighed again and shook his head. “We lived in tha' crappy place fer years 'fore either of us had 'nough money to move into a better place. But she never complained, never threatened to leave me if I didn't find a better apartment, never once blamed me when she had to take a cold shower in the winter. Hell, she even planned on proposin' to me 'cause I was takin' too long.” For added emphasis, he lifted his left hand to show off the silver band he proudly wore every day of his life since that day in your apartment. “I beat her to it, though. She's jus' so amazin'. I love her. I can't lose her. I'll die without her.” And with that last sentence, a sob finally broke out of the archer's chest.

Within seconds, Rick had gently grabbed Hazel from Daryl's arms and passed her over to Carol—who had been on her way to offer her own support to the huntsman—before wrapping his arms around his unofficial brother. Judith had been passed over to Beth during Daryl's speech to be put down for the night, so it made it easier for the former sheriff to jump up and hug Daryl. The archer never once displayed any forms of sadness in front of the group that had to do with crying. His sadness was usually handled through anger, but this wasn't a usual situation. You—the love of his life and the mother of his baby girl—were clinging on for dear life in your weakened state. The attackers that ambushed the group of people who went on the run the previous day made you suffer the worst of the attack. Hershel did his best with the supplies he had, but there was no telling if you'd recover until you woke up, if you ever woke up. And that scared Daryl beyond belief.

Rick didn't hold Daryl long, maybe two minutes at most, until he pulled away. Daryl furiously wiped at the tears in his eyes, mad at himself for displaying such weakness in front of everybody. However, nobody made any sort of comment towards him, their own understanding and worry towards you preventing them from doing so.

“If there's one thing I know,” Rick began, standing up and allowing Daryl to have some space. “It's that you Dixons are fucking stubborn. She'll pull through, I know it.”

Daryl sniffed and nodded, wiping his eyes one more time before getting up and gently taking his daughter from Carol. “She needs to be put to bed soon. She, uh, needs to see her mama 'fore it, though, jus' in case...”

Just in case you didn't make it.

Rick nodded sympathetically, and with that, Daryl walked away from everyone's empathetic gazes. He walked up the stairs and made his way to the makeshift medical cell, expecting to see you asleep, like you had been for over twenty-four hours at that point. However, he was instead met with the sight of you sat up and crouched over to the side, heaving and clutching at your chest, awake and alert, and he didn't hesitate to call for help.

“Hershel!”

Within seconds, the old man had hobbled himself over to the cell and was by your side in an instant. He was helping you put an oxygen mask over your mouth to help you breath, and once you weren't struggling to breathe anymore, he sent a frightened looking Daryl a reassuring smile. He beckoned him closer, and with Hazel still in his arms, he walked over to you and sat down on the bed, hugging you gently and quickly before pulling back—there would be time to crush you to him and never let you go when you weren't sat with a recently shot stomach and a few broken ribs. Hershel patted his back reassuringly, and he sent a very awake, lucid you a warm smile.

“Welcome back.” He turned to Daryl and nodded. “She pulled through.”

“S'a good sign, righ'?”

For the first time in twenty four hours, Hershel gave the archer good news. “It's a damn good sign.”

You were grunting and reaching out to Daryl, and your husband instantly knew what you were requesting. With a nod from Hershel, Daryl slowly transfered Hazel into your arms, and your little one instantly recognized her mama's touch. Her mood instantly brightened, right alongside her father's.

You were okay. However, the same definitely wouldn't be said for the son of a bitch held prisoner as soon as Daryl was done with him later—he was going to pay for hurting you, and Daryl wasn't going to go easy on him, either.

[popping-greenbean]

people watching

[noneorother]

The secret timeline inside of Good Omens season 2 revealed, *part1*

Part 1 l Part 2

If you’ve ever watched a ballet or an opera, you know how the rhythm in the music is used throughout to determine not only the movements of the dancers, but also when lines are sung or spoken. This is almost unheard of in television, but what if I told you it was hidden in season 2 of Good Omens? If one were to, say, meticulously cut together only the scenes set in the present day into one big timeline, you would get one long video that is exactly 2 hours 22 minutes 00 seconds and 00 frames long. An ineffable cut that is so perfect it defies all logic. (I’ve burnt a timecode into this ineffable edit to help pick up the rhythm.)

Even though there are large swathes of the second season with no music, there is a constant tempo weaving its way through the show: What if the seconds ticking by in the runtime itself was the music? Here’s an example of what I found. Behold a supercut of every single time Shax shows up, or Hell is mentioned in series 2 in the ineffable edit. They always arrive on a 6 in the time stamp (ex: 00:XX:X6).

(SOUND ON is an absolute must here, otherwise you won't hear any of the triggers)

Shax rings Crowley on a XX:X6. Shax miracles herself into the car on a XX:X6. Shax knocks on windows on a XX:X6. Shax’s big scary moment at the bookshop happens at 66 minutes exactly (lol). Crowley calls out for Shax on a XX:X6. Beelzebub starts spewing flies on a 6. People mention hell and it’s always on XX:X6 etc. etc…(Bonus: I also left in Maggie flipping the damned the double-bird on a XX:X6) I’ve also left in the only appearance of Shax or hell at all in the whole series that isn’t tied to a six: the park bench scene with Crowley. Shax seems to be off by one line, showing up on a XX:10, then back to XX:X6 on her second reply: “Bills, mostly”. I can only theorise that this scene, while technically in season 2, is not supposed to *be* in season 2 (even just judging by the trees, sun and the overcoats, it’s not summer like in the rest of the season). And it’s not only sixes! Every time I go through I find more and more little beats that line up exactly with ineffable timings. I can only do one video per post, so I’ll have to cut it up into sections, but Gabriel, doors, car horns, bird calls, Aziraphale, food, drinks, Angels, dialogue, Maggie, Nina, jokes, clocks, bells… The list goes on and on. 

Neil called this season “The bridge”

Because we all know how much Neil loves double meanings and wordplay, I just have to ponder the idea that when Neil said this season was “the bridge” between seasons 1 and 3, he meant it double-literally. First, as in the bridge Aziraphale and Crowley have to cross in order to get them into position for the second coming. We even see the physical manifestation of this bridge leading everyone in the background of the opening credits. But this season is also a bridge in the sense that it’s a musical section that introduces new ideas or material in the middle of a song. This whole season is the music that deviates from the familiar, and re-contextualizes the chorus and the verses so we can appreciate them in a new way. 

Let’s not forget that 2:22 is also exactly the same timing as this (and only this) track from the good omens s2 album (read all about the soundtrack here):

Why is this so bonkers? I think GOS2 might be the first ever “Total” series of television.

Having everything in the series timed and choreographed would actually make it a very faithful adaptation of the Powell & Pressburger film The Tales of Hoffmann (read about the movie and it’s effect on all of s2 here). If you watch the tales of Hoffman, you will realize that the entire film is actually done more like animation, with the music and vocals all performed in a studio, mixed and edited first, and then the actors came back to act out their choreographed and lip-synched parts for the cameras afterwards. The result is "Total film": a movie that feels more like a ballet, with every movement, action, and line happening in time with the music. As far as I can tell, very few films have ever attempted this, with The Tales of Hoffmann and Playtime being the only two “complete” films I could find in this style. (The Red shoes has one section, and An American In Paris has a few)

“Why would ambitious filmmakers simply film an opera? Many admirers of the work of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger have assumed that their decision to make The Tales of Hoffmann (…) was in some way an admission(…) that they couldn’t go on making their edgy, over-the-top melodramas after the rejection and interference they’d suffered, (but) there’s a case for considering The Tales of Hoffmann as one of the finest and boldest works that Powell and Pressburger produced, so far ahead of its time as a wholly “composed” film... Late in his life, Powell himself said that he thought it was one of the best films that he and Pressburger had made.” - Criterion review, Tales of Hoffmann

Here’s a simple example from An American in Paris

If season 2 *is* scripted and choreographed to line up with specific timings, I’m pretty sure that would make this the first ever “total” or “composed” season of television ever attempted. Not only does this take an ASTOUNDING amount of planning, scripting and editing finesse, not to mention a completely controlled set, it takes a real understanding of how to perform as an actor using rhythm and metre, which would go a long way to explain why all of the main actors coming back for season 2, with the exception of John Hamm, are well regarded theatre performers, (especially of Shakespeare).

I’ll leave you with one last surprise I found in the discovery of the ineffable edit: remember Aziraphale’s smile at the very end if the credits? It happens on 02:23:03, as the first step off the bridge, and into season 3.

I will have much more in the next ineffable timeline post. Stay tuned…

__________________________________________

Thanks for reading all the way to the end. It’s taken me a solid month to get this perfect. There are so many hidden cuts and jumps to take into account, and I had a frame rate issue that kept exporting to 29fps instead of 25fps, but I’ve finally nailed the ineffable timeline enough that I am confident sharing in it.

Credits to @thebluestgreen and @embracing-the-ineffable for all the support and help with editing and just general good vibes. 

[orbitariums]

warmth | art donaldson + patrick zweig + black fem reader (a snippet)

full length part 1 here!

i miss posting on here real bad and i keep teasing things (christopher moltisanti, richie jerimovich) and not actually writing/releasing them SO i'm putting this snippet of this oneshot i'm writing to encourage myself to actually put this out.

i think this will probably have multiple parts because the tension needs to builddd. and please, let me know y'alls thoughts!!! what do you think, what do you predict is gonna happen, r u thirsting adequately, etc. i love hearing your little comments <333

& let me know if you’d wanna be tagged when this comes out

essentially: reader, patrick and art were childhood best friends who conveniently were all in love with each other, or at least had enough sexual tension to make it feel that way. fast forward almost a decade later, and reader has made it onto the red carpet with her fantastic pen, and patrick and art have gone pro. when she invites them to her house for a star-studded friendsgiving, tensions rise and old doors open, springing forth new possibilities. this is only the beginning.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

warmth

“We should just turn around now, save ourselves the embarrassment.”

Patrick paid Art no mind, rolling down the window and leaning out of it, pressing the buzzer as you had dutifully instructed them in your email invite. 

“Too late now. Already threw away about a gallon of gas just coming up the hill to this place,” he replied, the sense of ease in his voice only egging Art on even more. 

“Exactly why we should leave. I mean, fuck. Does she have to live on a hill?”

“Residence of [last name], to whom am I speaking?” a male voice rings on the other end. 

“Uh…” Patrick starts, Art reaching up over him, 

“Patrick Zweig and Art Donaldson?”

A silence filled the air. Patrick swatted at Art, forcing him back in his seat. 

“Why’d you say it like a question, dumbass?”

Art stammered, already starting to get red in the face,

“I was --”

The gate swung open and both the boys let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you!” Patrick chimed, smirking at Art, who seemed to be sinking in his seat. 

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Meanwhile, you were inside the mansion that you call home, flowing around the kitchen like there weren’t about fifty people milling about and mingling amongst one another. It smelled like something out of Hansel and Gretel -- from the fragrant brown roasted turkey sitting in the oven, to the gourmand scent of perfectly caramelized candied yams, to the vanilla musk perfume you dotted on your wrists. A black mini Schnauzer nipped excitedly at your feet as you added half a cherry tomato to the giant bowl of salad you’ve been prepping for the last twenty minutes. You look like a pro, like a party of this magnitude is no big deal to you.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

“Do we ring the doorbell? Or maybe… should we knock?” Art questioned, hands tied behind his back as he glanced up at Patrick for answers. 

“It’s open,” Patrick retorted, but he too stood stupefied at the door, like a weary traveler wavering in horrific awe before the mouth of some epic beast. 

“On three?” Art suggested, and when he didn’t hear a response, he started to count, “one… two…”

Patrick stepped in before Art could get to three. Art scoffed, but followed behind him anyway. 

The two of them stood there silently, taking the grandiosity of it all in — the sky-high dome ceiling, two grand wooden staircases directly opposite one another, the shiny verdant porcelain flooring, the Basquiat painting hanging above the wide bookcase directly in front of them. Mouths open, they looked like they were ready to catch flies. 

“Fuuuck me,” Patrick breathed out heavily. Art’s head was stuck staring up at the ceiling, so high he thought it’d never end. 

“You made it.”

Both Art and Patrick seemed to stand straight at the sound of your voice, like soldiers at attention. You almost laughed, but instead you stood there coolly, smiling at them both with your lips and your eyes— in them, a look that was almost knowing, wise beyond your years. It seemed like a lifetime before either of them would speak. They spent half that lifetime practically gawking at you, drinking you in. And how could they not, when you were draped in that cream-colored silk dress, the flowy bottom dancing above your ankles. You looked more beautiful than they remembered you, calmer, secure — of course, they hadn’t seen you since they were teenagers. Now there was this air of timelessness about you that was only just poking at the surface when you were in high school. Now it surrounded you. Something mystic encompassed your entire spirit, dripping from your head to your feet. They’d spent years seeing you from behind a screen, being interviewed on live TV, attending red carpets for award shows, blending in with the Hollywood mecca — another beautiful twenty-something industry talent. But the glow of the television that seemed to give everyone a perfectly filtered sheen was nothing compared to your beauty here. 

“It’s so good to see you,” Patrick broke the silence first, practically lurching forward with open arms to embrace you. His beard scratched against your cheek. You could smell the cologne that was beginning to wear off, mixed with a hint of cigarette smoke. His arms nearly suffocated you.

When he pulled away, you couldn’t help but chuckle at the way he smiled at you so fervently. 

“Good to see you too, Patrick…” you glanced over at the mousy boy who didn’t seem to have changed much since high school. “C’mere, Artie.”

Art chuckled: a nervous huff of relief, inching forward into your open arms and nuzzling his chin into your shoulder, closing his arms around your midwaist. You could smell the aftershave that still clung to his face, and the detergent still fresh from his clothes. 

You pulled away, but took one of each of their hands, squeezing. 

“My two boys. Man, how long has it been?”

“Oh, just a while—”

“Seven years,” Art interjected. 

“Who’s counting, right?” Patrick grinned, making all of you laugh. 

You looked at them almost expectantly, eyes wide like a doe, the slightest smile playing at your lips. They looked back with bated breaths. Always, you were in charge, always. It had been like this since the scabby-kneed days of childhood. If you wanted to play on the swings, they were there on either side of you. You were the queen of the sandbox. In middle school, they snuck extra cookies for you from the lunchroom and fought over who got to surprise you with the treat every day. Senior year of high school, in the hotel room in London, when you had them perched on either side of you like baby birds waiting for mother’s return— when you had both your hands on each of their thighs, had them panting like puppy dogs, inching your hands further and further only to leave the minute you heard “lights out.” 

It had been seven years since then and still, it was the same. Only this time, you were stupidly rich, thanks to the soaring success of your two psychological thriller books turned TV series. It wasn’t that you’d forgotten about them, or didn’t care about them now that you were rich and famous. You’d gotten accepted to study creative writing at Brown, Art went to play at Stanford, and Patrick went on his path to go pro. You were delighted to see that they were only a click away thanks to the internet, just one click away from being reintegrated into your life. Your childhood best friends. 

“C’mon, lunch is almost ready.”

Friendsgiving. Who didn’t love the concept? It was a readily welcomed, wholesome idea — friends of all ages and backgrounds coming together to rehash their Thanksgiving with leftovers, stories from the year, and maybe a game of cards. Except your friendsgiving was attended by A-list actresses, Cannes festival attending screenwriters, and the odd Grammy-nominated artist. And your friendsgiving was not at all an intimate affair — it may as well have been a club party. Most people were outside, dancing, shrieking with laughter, drinking, and skipping their way to their seats. Your backyard was vast and verdant green, with a pool in the center, the perimeter lined with lemon and peach trees, and miles to explore. 

“This is fucking insane, is that Dakota Johnson?” Patrick scoffed. He and Patrick had been left to their own devices yet again, while you flitted around being the hostess with the mostest, easing and gliding about. A laugh here, a clink of glasses there, and a coolness to you that stood in striking comparison with the warmth that stirred deep down inside you. A warmth that could be served with a ladle into goblets, like some elixir with magical properties only you possessed. 

“No, you idiot, that’s— oh shit. That might be Dakota Johnson.” 

Clink clink clink. 

“Everybody, hi, hi! Thank you for coming, please, sit down,” you called out, clinking your glass to get the attention of your guests. Patrick and Art scrambled to find seats, ending up at a table with people who might have been minor celebrities or art critiques or designers -- at least one of those options. 

“I wanna thank you all so much for coming, this really means a lot to me. I know these sorts of things can be really hectic, but you guys make this house feel like a home. I’m glad that some of you will be staying with me for the next few days, there’s always room for more,” you glanced over at Art and Patrick. “Some of you are new friends, some of you I’ve known for far too long. But I think it’s incredibly fucking cool that we’re all here together now in this moment, just enjoying each other’s presence. I do this every year, and every year I meet even more amazing, talented, fascinating people and you all are so dear to my heart. And now, what we’re all waiting for… lunch is served!”

A cacophony of cheers rang out as staff rushed about to place plates in front of everyone. You stood giggling, basking in all of it. Patrick and Art couldn't help but watch on with deeply impressed smiles — you were meant to bask: in glory, in pleasure, in everything. You looked just right standing where you were.

The rest of the afternoon Patrick and Art spent attempting to blend in as best they could. They were pro tennis players, but this was another level of stardom that they couldn’t quite fathom yet. They watched you ruthlessly the entire night, unable to squash those rising feelings of attraction and yearning for you that had never quite simmered to begin with. You’d always been cooler than them, but watching you now there was a certain air to you that belonged to a grown woman, someone comfortable and confident and in their element. You were positively swimming in the sunlight the entire afternoon. It was like you had this sort of magnetic pull to all things good, rich, and warm. People wanted to be around you. And god, did this prove that. 

By night time, people were finally starting to leave. The sun hung low in the darkening sky, making the fairy lights glow stronger now. The few people that were staying with you for the rest of Thanksgiving weekend had disappeared to their rooms. Besides the waitstaff still milling about, clearing the tables, it was just you, Patrick, and Art. The two of them hadn’t meant to stay so long, really. It wasn’t like they were forcing themselves to stick around and be acknowledged by you in a way that felt meaningful. Sure, you’d had your small talk and cracked a few inside jokes, but as much as neither wanted to admit it, they needed more. If it was hard to get your attention before, it was nearly impossible now. They were surrounded by so many people who all wanted to network and talk and introduce themselves, they found themselves mingling with your friends, some of them people who they’d seen on screen in the past year,  more than you. They’d been dragged onto the dance floor multiple times by multiple acquaintances, only to gawk at you swaying your hips rather than actually dance themselves. It became overwhelmingly clear, in their increasingly present desperation, that they should’ve accepted your offer to stay in this castle of a house for the weekend. Neither of them had packed a bag. 

“This is awkward, we’re the only ones left,” Art sighed, still sitting at their table. 

“Let’s just… wait, okay? She might come back out."

"And give us a little speech?"

"Yeah, asshole, maybe she will."

At that very moment, you appeared again, this time clad in a two piece linen pajama set. You didn’t miss the way both their eyes trailed up your legs as you stood in front of them, arms crossed, smiling expectantly. 

“I was hoping you two would still be here,” you said. You glanced between the two of them, that awkward silence filling the air once again. “C’mon. Let’s talk.”

You turned and walked back inside, the two of them trailing behind you.

"Your house is fucking sick by the way. I mean holy shit," Art blurted once you got to the main entrance hall.

"Feel like I just walked into a page of Architectural Digest," Patrick added on.

You led them up the stairs. Both their eyes dropped to your ass, which poked out just a bit from under the pair of shorts you wore. Silently watching the way your body curved as you walked.

"Ha, thanks. I think I did pretty okay for myself," you replied.

You led them to the den on the second floor and sat criss cross apple sauce on the lush green couch. Art sat on your left, Patrick on your right. Patrick spread his legs and Art had one foot up on the couch, bouncing against his knee. 

“Sorry we didn’t get to talk much. I was so busy being the host of the year that I didn’t pay enough attention to you two. My favorites.”

Art chuckled,

“Favorites? You’re just saying that.”

“No, I’m serious! D’you know how much I missed you guys?”

Patrick scoffed playfully,

“All those TV interviews I watched of you? I wouldn’t even be thinking about us.”

You couldn’t help but grin, that warmth coming through once again. It nearly made the two men melt. 

“Well I was. I always think about you guys.”

Now came Patrick’s voice again, a heaviness to it that almost made you jump,

“Do you think about anything specific?”

Although it had been nearly a decade since you’d last seen each other, you didn’t miss a single thing about either of them. Patrick didn’t mince words, and he never shied away from not just hinting at, but blaring his salacious intentions every time he spoke. You tilted your head towards him, a cool smile tugging at your lips. 

“Just what good times we had.”

A silence, accented with a flood of nostalgia and a pointed reference to those “good times” permeated the air. You took a moment to gaze at the two of them ever so softly — enough for them to feel it, but not enough to make them squirm (though, they were easy to make squirm) — before you decimated the silence by slapping your hands down on either of their thighs and squeezing endearingly. 

“So tell me, where’ve you two been? I’m not the only one on TV these days.”

“Ahh, you don’t wanna hear about boring tennis,” Art waved a hand of dismissal. 

You chortled, a trademark of yours that Art and Patrick had always poked fun at in school,

“You’re right, I don’t.”

“You still laugh the same,” Patrick said, grinning like he was trying not to but was unable.

You chuckled, this time low in your throat, and turned your head to face him again. You and Patrick were similar in the sense that you were always pushing the boundaries, tiptoeing closer and closer to the line — but the three of you had never quite established where that was. At some point, you were all just too close to even think about “the line” or “boundaries” — all of you appeared clueless to societal expectations of friendship, spurting a sort of cultlike relationship where everyone else was an outsider. 

“Do I?” smiling at him like you were warning him not to tease. 

“Yeah, that little snort you do,” Patrick replied, unshaken. 

“You do do a little snort,” Art chimed in, always chirping like he spoke from a less nefarious place. 

“And if I get started on you guys’ little tennis grunts?” you grinned fully now, showing teeth, looking between the two of them and leaning back a bit.

They followed, leaning back against the couch and keeping their heads in line with yours so you were never too far away from them, each of them turning their heads to look at you. 

“No way you actually watch us,” Art replied.

“I do!” you insisted. “Seriously, if you’d asked anybody here you would know.”

“Sure, let me just strike up conversation with George Clooney,” Art shot back.

“Ha-ha,” you bleated sarcastically. “I don’t even know him… but I have walked past him once on the carpet.”

“Look at you,” Patrick smirked. “Little Miss Superstar.”

He punctuated his sentence with a hand on your knee. Your eyes flickered over to him and you caught the way his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat when he swallowed, felt the way he gazed up at you. You didn’t miss the desire twinkling in his eyes. 

Then Art, always second but not necessarily last, 

“She’s our little superstar, you know that, right?” 

His hand just gently grazing your shoulder.

You let them revel in the moment for as long as you felt appropriate, then huffed.

“You know you guys can stay for the weekend, right? I mean, you should.”

“Oh… no, we wouldn’t wanna impose,” Patrick said, his hand slinking away from your knee.

Another chortle from you, this time the kind that said everything about how you lived in comparison to them,

“You wouldn’t be. This is a five bedroom house. It’s fine. Besides, don’t you guys wanna actually catch up? I’ll let you torture me with tennis talk.”

Art started to stammer,

“I-I mean… we didn’t bring anything.”

“Just our idiot selves,” Patrick added.

“Don’t worry. I’ll get Charles to get you guys all set up.”

“Charles?”

“Oh, he’s my assistant,” you said nonchalantly, as if it were nothing. “You’re not fighting me on this. I want to spend some quality time with my boys. Don’t make me have to beg for it.”

“We could never make you beg for anything,” Art replied, just a little too quickly. 

“I know, Art, that’s why I love you,” you grinned over at him. “So, are we all in agreement? Stay with me. Just this weekend.”

“Yes,” they both replied a little too quickly this time. 

You bit your lip, suppressing a smile. 

“You know… I really, really missed you guys. And those good times we had.”

You let the memory of that night of almosts in London resurge, let their minds run amuck with whatever teenage fantasy was still left over from that night. A moment so brief it could almost be forgotten, could even be flagged as incidental, accidental, but the three of you knew, even as grown adults (especially as grown adults), that it would always stick and remain unresolved, unless someone ran to the rescue with some sort of solution. Once again they held their breaths. You stood up, glanced between the two of them like you were sizing them up, and then smiled as if nothing had happened at all — you let them breath. 

“Your bedroom’s the second on the right when you leave here. Charles will help you get set up— I’ll see you guys in the morning for breakfast.”

And just like that, you were gone. The air in the room seemed to clear. Your presence was like a thousand tons of pressure weighing on their bodies and their minds. Finally, they could breathe.

They glanced at each other with the same longing, almost nervous expression — high school all over again.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

eek let me know what y'all thought. i wanna finish it by this week <3

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: Andrew keeping us angry this fine friday

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You leave your headphones around your neck and tuck your phone into your pocket. You focus on the simple steps of loading the coffee machine as your grandmother mutters and shuffles away. You can hear her harrumph as she goes into the front room and the groan of her chair as she sits heavily.

The scratch of dry pages sounds as she gives no acknowledgement to the intruder. You stop in the archway as a chill runs through you. You’re sick to your stomach. The walls are closing in. They always feel a bit tight, suffocating even, but you’re really trapped. He’s not going to stop. He’s showing you just that. 

You make yourself keep going. You come out into the front room. Andy stands by the bay window, looking out onto the unmowed lawn. His shoulders are straight even as he has his hands in his pockets. He wears a pair of sleek pants and a powder blue button-up with short sleeves. He looks as put together as ever, definitely out of place in your grandmother’s cramped house. 

“Coffee on,” you croak to your grandma and Andy turns, his lips twitching as his cheek dimples, “can we talk outside?” 

He tilts his head, “sure,” he accepts, “Cassie,” he nods at your grandma as he struts across the room, “sorry for disturbing you. You have a lovely home.” 

Your grandmother rocks the chair and looks up at him. There’s an arch in her brow that isn’t entirely bothered, “thank you, Andrew? Was it?” 

“Andy,” he grins. 

“Hm,” she grumbles and narrows her eyes, “sorry to hear about your kid.” 

“Thanks,” his voice falters, “getting through.” 

He nears and you quickly turn away, keeping your distance from him as he follows you the door. You can barely get it open before he catches up. He holds the door above your head as he trails you outside and you stumble down the step. You spin to face him, crossing your arms as you maintain a wide breadth from him. He stops on the bottom stair and watches you. 

“Why are you doing this?” You ask crisply. 

“I’m trying to help you.” 

“I don’t need help--” 

“You sure about that?” He challenges swiftly. 

You wince and look away. You’re embarrassed. You never invited friends over because they weren’t welcome. Even Kara only ever saw the outside of your grandma’s house and you never told her about the nasty remarks or the boiling silences that had you fleeing like a frog from hot water. 

You swallow and purse your lips tightly, “I’m sure. I’m just fine.” 

“Can’t be easy, living like that,” he remarks. 

“Stop,” you keep your gaze averted. 

“Not just the peeling walls and whatever, but her, she’s not very nice, is she?” 

“I told you to stop,” you snap at him, facing him, “you do not know me or my life.” 

“You’re the one closing me out,” he accuses, “honey, please, I want to know. Has anyone else even asked? Checked in?” 

“I have friends--” 

“Yeah, but they got their own live, don’t they? Like, what’s her name, Kayla?” He puts a hand up, then snaps his fingers, “Kara, yeah, that’s it. Sure, you had your day out but what’s she doing for you now? Miles away.” 

“I’ll figure it out. I am,” you sniff, “it’s not your business, Andy.” 

“You know, making yourself suffer isn’t some great show of honour, right? You’re just spitting in the face of the escape you’ve been hoping for--” 

“No, not with you,” you sneer. 

“How do you know that? Why can’t it be me?” 

“You know--” 

“I know, I lied. I hurt you. I’ve apologised over and over and I’ll keep doing that as long as I need to. Honey, let me ask you, when has anyone ever said sorry to you? When have they ever cared about your feelings? About your forgiveness?” He cranes to look at the house then back to you, “did your parents ever say sorry for leaving you here? Does your grandma ever say sorry for insulting you? How about Kara? Does she ever apologise for ignoring you for that skinny kid she’s got nipping at her heels?” 

“How do you know that?” You exclaim, “what-- why--” you can barely speak as your head reels. You don’t understand how he knows about Kara or how he found you or why he just won’t give up. “Andy, I—you can’t replace Jacob, alright? I don’t want anything from you. I can’t-- I can’t take it. Alright? It’s not right.” 

“I’m not trying to replace him, he’s gone,” Andy drops his shoulders and steps onto even ground, “I’m trying to start over and I’m offering you the same thing. You don’t have to stay in this shit hole. You don’t have to wallow like this. I could get you into a better school. I can make a few calls, get you in at UMass or Boston, close to me--” 

“What the fuck?” You burst out, “what-- no. No. You’re... you... I don’t want that.” 

He’s quiet. His brows knit as he stops just a step away, “why not?” 

You stare at him, stunned. You should want it, shouldn’t you? To get out? To have better? Opportunity doesn’t knock on your door every day but this is not that. This is strange. He hasn’t said so but you know there’s more than just generosity at play. More than a mourning father trying to do good. 

“Because I don’t want to be anyone’s burden. So no thank you. I am not interested in whatever you’re offering. I can’t trust you. Everything between us is based on a lie,” you say, “you need to understand that and move on.” 

He stares at you. His blue eyes search your defiant face and he blows out slowly through his nose. He pushes his shoulders back and stands at his full height. 

“No, you don’t understand,” his face darkens and you back up, “you don’t understand everything I can give you. Everything I could do for you. You don’t get it. You’re young and you have no idea because you’ve never had any of those things.” He steps closer as you inch away, “but what you really don’t understand is what I can take away from you.” His lashes flick down and he sighs, “I didn’t want it to be like this but it’s the only way to make you see.” 

“What do you mean?” You utter. 

He smiles, not a real smile, a wry, almost mournful smile. He shrugs and you flinch as he sidesteps you. You keep out of his way as he strides down the walkway and you turn to watch his back. He stops at the end and peeks back, “you and me, we were meant to be together. Can’t you see that? It wasn’t chance, it’s fate.” 

He puts his back to you once more and struts to his silver SUV. You stay as you are, trapped in everything he said and didn’t. He’s not done and there’s nothing you can say or do to stop him.  

Or maybe it’s not you who needs to stop him. 

🎮

It isn’t your first time in a precinct. You have vague memories of similar scenes from your childhood; some faded by the years, others out of pain. As you pass through the doors, doubt stops you in your tracks. How many times did they send you home with your mother still reeking of alcohol or let your father out still in one of his rages? 

It’s been a long time and the world is different. Isn’t it? Besides, you’re an adult now. You have a voice. You better start using it. 

You approach the desk where a man in uniform sits behind thick plexiglass. You cough to get his attention and bounce nervously on the balls of your feet. You can’t think how to begin so you just start talking. 

“Uh, hi, um, I think I need to file a police report?” You say. 

He looks at you dully, “for what?” 

“Well, er, I... don’t know what it would be technically called, I guess. But, this guy, uh, a man... he won’t leave me alone.” 

The officer scoffs, “really? You young ones...” 

“It’s not... I don’t know him, sir, so--” 

“Let me guess? He whistled at you on the street? Or maybe he offered to buy you a drink?” He narrows his eyes. 

“No, sir. He’s been following me. He showed up at my work and my house and I told him to go but he... won’t.” 

He rolls his eyes but grabs a piece of paper. He shakes his head and slides it under the slot, “fine, fill it out. We’ll put the incident on file. Unfortunately, we don’t lay charges for being social.” 

Great. So you were wrong. Again. And why would they take you seriously? No one ever does. 

You sit and fill out the form. Your info, Andy’s info, and a written recount of each incident. You think you have the dates right. You bring it back to the desk. 

“I have texts too, if that helps.” 

“Nah,” he takes the form as you push it through, “not like you’re going to court.” 

You grimace. You hate being talked to like you’re stupid, you’d rather be ignored. 

“Well, thanks, I guess,” you grumble. 

“Hold up,” he says, “gotta do a quick check before we file this.” 

He types into his computer. He looks between the paper and the screen. You wait. What a waste of time. Now you’re sure he’s just trying to make you look stupid. 

“Where is this Andrew Barber from? He’s not in the local records.” 

“I don’t... know,” you blink. He said something about Boston U? “Massachussetts, maybe? I think he’s a lawyer.” 

“Pretty common name...” he mutters as he hits several keys, “hmm, let’s see. Lawyer... sure, makes sense—ha, assistant DA? All the way down here?” He looks at you, “alright, honey, why don’t you go have more fun on Google?” 

“No, it’s not--” 

“You know it’s obstruction to file a false report,” he says. 

“No, it’s true. I told you, I have messages--” 

“So you don’t know him but you’re texting him?” He challenges, “I’m advising you to leave right now before I book you for wasting my time.” 

You exhale and shake your head, dropping your shoulders as you turn. You drag your feet across the gray tile and to the door. So much for trying. Just like everything else, it’s a lost cause. You’re starting to believe Andy. He might be your only chance. You really are that pathetic. 

No, you won’t give in. You might not have had much in life. Maybe not a nice house or a good family or even done anything great but you’re still your own person. You’re working towards that. You’re going to school, you’re making minimum wage, you’re doing what you have. It’s a means to an end. Andy can’t be that end. 

You don’t know what to do. It’s not like you can ask your grandma. She’d never listen long enough to understand and even if she did, would she care? 

You wander down the street and sit on a bench, numb as you try to think of something. You clutch your phone and look down at the screen. You have one lifeline left but is it too much to ask? You unlock the phone and find Kara’s name. 

You hit the call button and raise the phone to your ear. Maybe she knows what to do. She always had boy troubles; you remember when Michael had a crush on her in grade eleven. 

“Heya! How are ya, girl?” She answers with a giggle. 

“Kara, I’m...” you search the street and your eyes water, “not good.” 

“Oh,” her tone falls, “oh, is everything okay?” 

“No.” 

“What’s going on? Are you hurt? Is your grandma okay?” She hushes someone and you hear rustling as she moves on the other end. 

“Kara, you remember that boy I met online. The one I was supposed to meet?” 

“Yeah, the one that stood you up.” 

“It wasn’t a boy. I mean. It wasn’t who I thought it was...” it all comes tumbling out before you can stop yourself, “it was his dad.” 

“What?” She nearly shrieks, “ew. Oh my god, what the fuck?” 

“Yeah, and he...” you see a silver SUV and your words crackle. The window rolls down as the car slows and Andy peers out at you. 

He knows Kara. He saw her at the con and somehow he learned more about her. How did he do that? Obviously, he has connections. Far above you. And her. If he can find out who she is, where you are, what else can he do? 

You’ve already told her too much. 

“Sorry, Kar, I gotta go--” 

“Wait, wait, wait, you can’t drop that on me and just bail,” Kara squeals. 

“I’m sorry, I just... I’ll call you back.” 

You hang up and lower the phone. You stare at Andy as he parks and gets out of the car. He shuts the door and crosses the pavement, turning to sit beside you. He peers around casually. 

“So, should I expect a visit from the police?” He asks. 

You sit back and scoff, “whatever, dude.” 

“I got a lot of buddies on the force. They don’t mess with DA’s, even out of district. If you gave me a chance, you’d know these things about me.” 

You don’t say anything. He’s not listening and he’s not going to. You should be used to that. 

“So, do we keep going?” He asks. 

You slide to the edge of the bench. You don’t look at him. You just walk away. He’s your problem. You can’t make him Kara’s too. Not when he’s showing you exactly how far he’ll go. 

[fqiryspit]

𝐮𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 - 𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧,𝐣

cw: angst, toxic eren, manipulation, gaslighting yourself and being gaslit, emotional cheating etc etc.

you stood in the empty street with the wind digging into your skin every so often. you sniffed dryly before opening the car door and sliding yourself in. the walk to the car felt like forever, but you're so so glad you're on your way home

"well, that was fun" eren grinned, starting the car as the heat bursts through the vehicle and you feel yourself almost sinking into the seat, eyes staring into the dashboard no matter how hard you tried to move them. I just want to go home

you're just so...confused. was that a joke? those whole 3 hours just to mess with you?

you're probably being dramatic, I mean, eren seems fine...but that's what's confusing you even more. when you were standing outside that car you were hoping, praying that once you entered he'd talk about how weird it was for her to act like that.

right when he walked into this...chill friendly get together he was met with a half-naked mikasa who hugged him so tightly his face would turn blue

whatever. you even brushed off the look she gave you afterward. you can't explain it, that's the worse part, it makes you seem dramatic and most certainly crazy

you feel yourself leaning forward and you snap out of it, realizing you're at a stop light and you don't have your seatbelt on. reaching over you snap the strap on and lean back once more.

he taps on the wheel impatiently, letting air escape his lips casually as his features glow from red to green and you're off again

looking at the road ahead you read license plates until you're able to even tap back into what happened with a little more confidence you're being dramatic

a skirt and a v-neck tank top that's waaay too small for her. that's what she was wearing when she was sitting on erens lap. they made it look so normal, and everyone was fine with it, your eyes wandered around but everyone was just talking like regular

you sunk back into the couch and watch as she almost bounced with laughter on top of him. you watched it happen like it was normal this time around because...you guess it is...no one really cared last time...maybe this is normal

your eyes looked over to armin who is staring at you, almost in a "are you getting this?" sort of way, your previously neutral face slightly dropped with a realization that...ok, so, other people find this weird

this is weird.

armins jaw tightens with your confirmation that you aren't okay with this and him feeling overwhelmingly uncomfortable but...what are you gonna do?

you're glad that it's a long home drive, you realize once you go at a stop sign. you don't feel like climbing into bed with him right now, you don't feel like pretending that...that didn't just happen. you feel gross, so gross you're even in this relationship at this moment. you wanna go home, actually home.

you put your knees to your chest as you stare out the window, knowing that it's gonna come no matter what. you wish you can go back to an age when you fantasized about relationships. where they were magical instead of weird and gross.

you think back to how they kept whispering things to each other like they were being so sly, you swear you even saw her press her lips on his ear slightly

"uhm"

fuck, that was weird. your voice cracked from the unexpected and unprepared voice coming from your throat

"mm?" he hummed back, you were hoping he didn't hear you, but, whatever. you're honestly mad, that was weird and you should tell him

"so...what was mikasa all about?" you cringed at your voice deepening to sound casual, that confidence slipped a little once you started, especially when his brows twitched down, confused as ever.

"what do you mean?"

"I mean-" ok...now you have to prove your point. but what do you have to prove? an outfit and a look? whispering and sitting placements?

you kinda hope he'd take it for you, like "oh you mean ----" and just agree that it was weird...but like...was that weird? are you being dramatic?

"uhm...I don't know..just kinda got some vibes from her" you heard him snort at your weak argument

"if this is about her outfit, yeah, she dresses like a slut a lot...I think it's mostly for jean though"

you almost felt a tingle spring up in your spine at him saying that like that entire thing was nothing, the whispering back and forth made them seem very close...he's just gonna say that like nothing? so then that means you were right, he does agree and that was weird.

"oh, so was she doing that whole thing to get a rise out of him or something?" you said, unfolding your legs and turning to him

"what whole thing?" he sighs out like he's annoyed and you feel yourself picking your legs right back up

"like...I don't know...the whispering and huggin-"

"hugging? y/n, if I knew you'd get all upset over me hugging a girl I would've left you at home" he scoffs, you didn't mean to add hugging to the list, you were just grabbing things from your brain in a panic that you're being insane and accidentally made your argument weak

or was it already weak? was this just one huge misunderstanding and an overreaction from you?

"what makes you think that way?" it was an honest question but the way he spat it out made you shrivel into yourself, you're not usually this...meek. you can't believe this is even happening right now.

"I mean, armin looked at me, and he-" "armin looked at you? should I start pouting next?"

you felt like your ears were ringing and your eyes burned but you'd rather die than let them fall

"it just seemed like he agreed that her sitting on your lap was weird." you said, voice louder to match his.

"dammit y/n I can't deal with this childish shit of 'you touched another girl' can you be for real right now?" he said it with such honesty you felt an "I'm sorry" at your tongue already, but you knew there was a reason you were mad, it's just right now it seems so small and like you're being unreasonable

but you're not like that, you know you're angry so you go back to try and find why but when you look back it just seems...normal

"look, we're here, I just wanna go to bed, can you do that?" he says, shutting off the car and having his fingers glide through his hair

"yeah.."

"k."

an: heyyyy shawtyyyy, sorry if it's boring, I just wanted to make smth like this <33

[turbulentscrawl]

Hullo! Hope you are having a good day/night. I stumbled into your blog a bit ago and I am absolutely(how do you spell that??) In love with your work! Since your requests are open can I ask for nsfw hcs (or scenarios depending on what you are familiar with) with Fredrick Kreiburg × a s/o that's into freakier stuff(kinkier stuff)? How would he handle it? Etc.,

You're in luck, anon! (or maybe not? idk what you have in mind as "kinkier") I've thought about this a bit over the break ewe

Under the cut for obvious reasons.

-Fred is not a fan of intentional pain in the bedroom--that's the most important thing here--and if you try to bring it in any way he's going to pull away from you. Like, some rough handsiness is one thing, but kindly do not roughly spank, or claw, or pull his hair like you're trying to rip it out.

-He's a bit more neutral to most non-harmful kinks. If you like restraints, gags, toys, and other things of that nature, he can be convinced to humor them occasionally on either you or him. Just note that his patience probably isn't as good as yours is, if you're looking to tie him up and be a tease. He wouldn't be as fond of gags because he wants to be able to tell you when it's going on too long and he's losing the mood.

-As for what he'd enjoy himself, you all probably know I HC Frederick as having a foot fetish. This generally has more sensual applications than sexual--he likes giving you massages, for instance, but when his head is in the right space, he also occasionally likes being stepped on or used as a footstool. (In a gentler way than I think most people would picture.) Basically, if you happen to push against his hard-on a little while he's knelt on the floor...he might get a little breathy and shift his knees open wider.

-He might be ok with vaguely semi-public sex when he's feeling jealous. Sex up against a window, with only a thin, lacey white curtain to slightly veil your bodies from anyone below who might see. He doesn't really want anyone to hear your sweet sounds, though. That symphony is just for him.

-Some degradation is fine, too. He's so used to people kissing ass to his face and then talking bad behind his back, that if you taunt him up close and personal, it feels a little like a treat, somehow. It has to be smooth, though, nothing that would put him down too much or target the major insecurities only you would know about.

-Somewhat in line with the degradation...I think Fred might occasionally like watersports. Preferably, him being urinated on. But make sure to do it outside, or in the shower or something. No one wants to clean that mattress after. If you don't like it, that's fine though. It's probably something he wouldn't even consider unless you brought it up, honestly. (He just maybe doesn't mind if you go to the bathroom where he can hear it....)

[testingthewatersss]

Kissing Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture,  etc. this one is actually pretty tame tbhBucky Barnes x F Reader Oneshot 3000 words fluff, angst, comfort & kissing. 18+ MDNI  Bucky can't stop thinking about kissing. Reader is Tony’s sister, a non-enhanced shield agent who recently resurfaced.

Kissing is something that Bucky has been fixated on for months, now.

He’s been out of the grips of HYDRA and settled into the tower for just long enough for his mind to be wondering away from the terrors that have been plaguing him ever since he’d first been dragged out of a cryo tank with blood that was on fire, and an arm that wasn’t his own.

At first, the breaks from panic had been so far and few between that he’d quarantined himself in his newly renovated bedroom and only dared to let himself within one metre of Steve, in case he suddenly forgot where he was and caused some kind of irreparable damage, but then, he’d met her…

He hadn’t meant to. He’d made every effort to avoid running into Tony’s younger sister, but then, when he had finally decided to eat, he’d snuck out of his room at three am, and he’d found her, messy haired and sketching at the breakfast bar, he’d been too stunned to run, so he stayed, and despite his initial reservations she’d rapidly become one of the only people in the world that he genuinely trusts.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” she coos, beaming at him from across the counter, “you’re starring.”

He is starring— She’s beautiful, kind, and patient, and her face is being lit by the sunlight that is just starting to pour in through the big glass windows, and despite himself, he’s been utterly captivated by the way her mouth is curling around the white coffee mug she’s drinking from.

She quirks a brow, and Bucky feels his cheeks burn red and hot as he averts his gaze from her lips.

Kissing, isn’t something he gets to do, no matter how badly he might want to.

They’re alone in the room. It’s early, and, they both know they have a couple of hours until anyone else starts to surface.

Even though he’s blushing, Bucky can’t help but let his eyes roll back up to Y/N’s face, he settles a little when he notices how her attention isn’t on him, it’s split between a book that’s propped open on the counter top and the coffee she’s holding in one of her hands.

Her teeth tug at the corner of her mouth, and he finds himself imagining what it would be like to let his thumb hover against the pink-

Stop it, Barnes, he thinks sternly, starring at a dame without her knowin' is creepy enough.

She goes to take another drink, but this time her gaze catches his. She offers him a smile, but he misses it, suddenly overwhelmed with the horrible sensation of being caught doing something wrong; He blurts out a “Sorry” that he hopes might spare him a scolding, and he makes a point of averting his eyes, focusing intently on the grey, marble surface before him.

When a soft hand lands on his cheek, he jolts back, throwing the stool out from under himself and stumbling into the wall with a crash that only startles him further.

He can’t breathe- He can’t think- The sound of something breaking is fresh in the air, and all he knows is that he’s done something wrong, that something bad is coming—

“Hey…” she exhales, calm, “You’re okay, it’s just me, alright? I’m gonna come closer”

Just like that blue eyes are wide, and once again insanely focused on Y/N’s face, though his thoughts are significantly less pleasant, this time around -

“You’re alright, I promise”

Bucky barely hears her, with the way his ears are suddenly thrumming with his panicked pulse, but still, he forces a jerky, obedient nod as the woman takes a cautious step towards him.

“I’m sorry,” she tells him next, “That was my fault- I shouldn’t have touched ya’ without askin’-”

He’s panting, his eyes are wild, and Y/N can see the way that his metal hand is scratching at the smooth surface that he’s backed himself up against.

“Bucky” she calls, a little firmer now, “Can you take a deep breath for me?”

“Y-Yeah” he gasps, “Yeah — I- I… I’ll— I-” Don’t hurt me, he thinks desperately, I’ll do whatever you want—

A single deep breath is hardly much better than the way he’d been hyperventilating before, but, she thinks, It proves he's listening.

She almost wishes he wasn’t so focused on her, though, because the look on his face is devastating to see—

He’s barely blinking, so she offers him a comforting smile, before showing him both of her hands and taking another, slow, step towards him,

“It’s just me, okay?” she purrs, “Can I touch you, sweetheart? I’m not going to hurt you, I promise”

I’m not going to hurt you

He’s heard that before, more times than he can count, and it’s almost always been followed by cruelty. But this, this is Y/N, and she’s promising him, and she’s never lied to him before.

The nod he gives her is slight, but, definitely there so, she compromises by reaching out slowly, leaving a centimetre between his cheek and the skin of her open palm.

“It’s alright-” she whispers, seeing the conflicted crease in his brow, “-You’re fine.”

Bucky can feel the heat of her hand, he wants to lean in towards her, more than anything, but he’s so used to stillness meaning safety, that he decides not to risk it.

“Shit” he gulps, voice cracking with adrenaline, “I-I didn’t mean to— t-to break anythin’…”

Don’t be angry, he pleads internally, I can't even offer to pay to fix it, I could try, I guess-

Y/N throws a glance over her shoulder. She hadn't noticed anything breaking. Not that it matters. The stool is still lying on the ground, at worst she thinks there might be a crack on the bar, from where he’s grabbed it in his panic, but she can have it's nothing that couldn't be fixed in a matter of hours. She just smiles as she looks back over at him, shaking her head and re-thinking her approach by opening her arms in invitation;

“You're fine-” she repeats, beaming as he starts to move, tentatively shuffling into her embrace, “-C’mere, Buck— did you have a rough night?”

The second he surrenders and lets his brow drop to Y/N’s waiting shoulder, he crumbles. Tears are suddenly burning behind his eyes, so he shuts them, gritting his teeth so hard that his jaw aches in his frantic attempt to stop himself from crying.

She feels the change in his posture, and wraps her arms around him, stroking his back slowly, as he fights to control his breathing.

“Did you get any sleep?”

Her question makes his heart stammer urgently. He doesn’t want to lie, but the idea of being honest in with his answer is just as sour somehow.

“I- uh,- tried—” is what he whispers, urgently, into the crook of her neck, “—I swear, it's the beds or, or something, they don't feel like they used to-”

Her heart aches at the crack in his voice, she nods, and whispers out an “I believe you” that works at easing the tension. Something in her tone, whether it’s the gentle lilt of affection, or just the way that she is really not freaked out by this whole encounter is unclear, but it's there and he loves it.

He really just loves it.

“C’mon,” she purrs, pulling back a little, “Wanna eat somethin’, with me?”

Without meaning too, Bucky clings to the fabric of her t-shirt. The idea of losing a fraction of the contact she’s giving him so readily is painful.

She’s not oblivious to the way he’s holding on to her like his life depends on it— she’s known him for long enough to know that he flickers between states of total self-inflicted isolation, and a genuine need for the skin on skin.

It makes sense, really— He’s been touched-starved for god knows how long. He’s been locked up and tortured, and worse for a lifetime, and even though everyone had been warned about his status as HYDRAs ‘attack dog’, she’s always thought that from the second he’d started to trust her, the transition to ‘lap dog’ had been awfully fast.

“I-“ Bucky whispers, “I’m—‘m not- not r-eady” I’m not ready to let go, he thinks urgently, not yet.

“Alright, sweetheart” Y/N replies with the same gentle voice he likes so much, “We've got nowhere to be”

Bucky has no idea how she always seems to know what he needs to hear, but he takes it all the same; and she doesn’t try and draw back again, not when there is no reason for her to rob him of whatever small facet of comfort he’s managing to find in her arms.

She’s more than happy to remind him that he’s with friends, now, and not strangers who hurt him for no reason.

“You got plans for today, Buck?” she asks, once the rise and fall of his chest start to regulate, “Or are you a free-agent?”

“I… t-told Steve I’d check in… he’s— he’s been worryin’ about me”

She laughs at that, quiet and soft against the side of his head.

“He’s been worryin’ about you since 1942”

That makes him crack a smile, it’s small and unsteady, but it’s there, and as he unveils his face from her shoulder, Y/N sees it, and she can’t help but reach up to stroke his cheek—

Just like that, his focus is back to kissing.

His eyes are watching the soft curve of her lips, the pressure of her fingers against the skin of his face is drawing him in, and he can almost feel her mouth on his—

Y/N doesn’t question his obvious distraction this time, she just watches patiently as he stares at her with an expression she can’t quite place;

“So…” she exhales, “…Once you’ve let Cap’ seen you’re not in mortal peril, you wanna come hang out with me in my lab?”

“Yes,” he bursts, eager to agree, “yes, p-please I— I’d… I’d like that a lot—”

Bucky loves Y/N’s lab.

He loves the way that it’s full of incredible things that she makes an effort to explain to him, over and over again, even though he barely ever understands it anyway. He loves the way he knows where he can go, and what he can touch, and how it never feels like he’s going to get into some kind of trouble for existing in there, but more than any of that, he thinks, he loves her. He loves her being there, beside him, chattering away like he’s not broken, and touching her hand against his like he hasn’t murdered people twice her size—

“I was hopin’ you might…” Y/N coos happily, snapping his attention firmly back to her face, “…You never know-” she adds, “-You might even manage to get some rest on one of the couches-”

He shoots her a longing glance and hopes earnestly that she doesn’t know how infatuated with her he is. He suspects that she does know, though, when she leans in and presses her lips against his brow.

Kissing.

Y/N is kissing him.

It only lasts a second, but it makes his breathing stop all the same.

When she pulls back, grinning and still stroking his jaw with her thumb, he feels whatever had been left of his resolve shattering.

“If you're breakin' out the puppy dog eyes” she coos, genuinely concerned by the way tears are suddenly filling his eyes, “you must want somethin'... huh? what? You wanna head down right now?”

That's exactly what he wants.

He nods, sniffing lamely as he tries not to blink in case any more emotion spreads across his face. Y/N doesn’t say anything else, she just looks over at the elevator door and waits for him to pad away from her hands, towards it.

It doesn’t take long for them to make it to her laboratory. She scans them both in, and when FRIDAY makes her usual offer of preparing the space for their use, she dismisses the AI politely, with a single request regarding the heating being turned on.

To Bucky’s initial dismay, Y/N doesn’t even look at him— she heads straight for a cupboard, where she proceeds to stand up on her tiptoes in order to reach something that he also can’t make out.

When she turns on her heels, holding a thick, dark, blanket, he’s sure he’s seeing things.

“C’mon then, sweetheart— Pick a couch, any couch”

What?

He blinks at her dumbly, still feeling tears stinging behind his eyes.

She tilts her head and chuckles, before looking around the room at the three, different loveseats;

“Do you have a preference?” she reiterates, “or-”

“I want to stay with you” he bursts, unable to hold back, “I… I mean, I— I- I like, I-“

Y/N feels her heart swelling with flattery, he’s so sweet, so hopelessly hungry for affection and companionship that the idea of anyone hurting him makes her almost irrationally angry.

“Come on then” she exhales, reaching out a hand towards him, and opening and closing her fist in invitation, “Dealers choice”

His chest stammers nervously as he lets his flesh fingers close around hers. He can’t even begin to understand why she’s being so kind to him, but she is, and he needs it. So he doesn’t ask, he just follows behind her as she leads him to a dark leather sectional that’s tucked away in the corner of the room.

“FRIDAY, can you send Cap’ a message please?-” Y/N purrs, folding down on to the plush cushions, “-Tell him that Barnes is fine, and that he’ll catch him for dinner or something later on”

“Sure thing, boss”

She’s still holding his hand, watching him with an expression so lovely that he can barely handle it.

“I-I— I-” he mumbles, “I’m— uh—“

“Exhausted” Y/N cuts in, patting the space beside her, “C’mon, sweetheart, I’ve got some readin’ to catch up on, you can curl up right here and keep me company”

That little burst of encouragement is all it takes for Bucky to fight past the embarrassment he’s feeling and settle himself on the couch, before, he very, very slowly, begins to lie himself down, with his head in Y/N’s lap.

“There” she coos, approving, “lets just-“ she adds, throwing the quilt up, over his body, “That’s better, right? nice and warm”

He can barely comprehend the niceness of his position. He’s staring up at her, wide-eyed and vulnerable, and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s bringing their tangled hands up to his lips, so that he can press a kiss against her knuckles.

The gesture is so, so lovely, that Y/N can’t help but smile down at him, reaching across with her free fingers to start to stroke his hair back, away from his brow.

“You” she whispers, “Are the sweetest guy alive, y’know that?”

He doesn’t, he doesn’t know anything close to that. So he shakes his head and feels his eyes spilling over, down across his cheeks as he lets himself close them.

Everything feels too raw. He’s tired, exposed, and in love and he hadn't realised that morning, and now he can't stop realising it and it’s too much, right now, because he doesn't know how or when it happened, but she is one of the most important people in his life, and he’s just kissed her hand, and he didn’t ask first, and he’s sorry, and he’s scared and tired, and—

“Well you are…” she says, making his frantic thoughts slam to a halt, “…You’re lovely, and charming, and handsome—”

Suddenly, he’s staring again.

“I’m sorry” he gulps, “I- I really am, Y/N/N-”

That isn’t what she’d been expecting to hear.

She shakes her head, slipping her hand down, so that she’s stroking his cheek with her thumb;

“I… I mean it” he counters, “I- I shouldn’t h-have kissed you- I-”

“What?” Y/N asks, genuinely confused, “What are you talking, about Buck?”

“Just now… I— Y-your hand, I— I, I couldn’t help it, darlin’— I- I- I’ve been thinkin’ a-about kissin’— about kissin’ you, and I— I shouldn’t have— I- I just couldn’t— I-“

He’s getting so worked up that his nostrils are flaring. It’s painful to watch, so she wastes no time in slipping the hand she’s holding up to her own lips, where she kisses his knuckles this time, effectively silencing him instantly.

“You’ve been thinkin’ about kissin’ a lot, huh?” she wonders, after a moment of silence,

Oh, god.

His face is on fire.

His eyes are full of tears again, but he can’t tear them away from her face.

She’s smiling, and he can’t help but think that she looks like an angel-

He nods, too mortified to make his confession aloud.

“and is it just me you’ve been thinkin’ about?” she presses, a lilt of humour in her tone, “or is it Natasha, too?”

“No” he bursts, “No, Y/N/N.. it…uh, it’s just you…”

Bucky knows he’s caught. He knows that no matter how humiliating this whole thing might be, that lying is only going to make it worse.

“Well” Y/N exhales, expression thoughtful, “It’s been a long time for you, sweetheart, it’s only normal that you’re gonna think about things like that-”

A strange kind of bravery washes over him for a minute, and he shakes his head, looking right at her, as he speaks,

“It’s not that, doll, it’s-” he inhales, “It's you, I didn't get it but, I, I do now and I know it’s— it’s crazy and I- I shouldn’t be tellin’ ya but I- I just want ya to know that you— you mean the world to me, and I- I-” “It has been a while, though, right?”

The teasing in her voice cuts through the intensity of the atmosphere, and despite himself, and his crippling anxiety, Bucky finds himself scoffing.

“Yeah..” he agrees, “Yeah it… it’s been a while.”

Y/N beams at him, before kissing his hand again.

“I know I just got FRIDAY to make you dinner plans with Rodgers,” she says, “But he's had plenty of chances to third wheel already- how would you feel about givin' him a rain check? that way we can talk about our feelings for each other somewhere more romantic than my lab—”

His breath catches in his throat. His fingers tighten around hers and for a horrible second, Y/N worries that she’s totally misread the situation;

“W-what do you mean ‘feelings for each other’?”

It’s her turn to blush now, even though Bucky thinks he’s never seen anyone so perfect;

“Well I…” she murmurs, “I might’ve misunderstood you, sweetheart, but it- it sounded like you were sayin’ you-”

“I do” he’s quick to assure her, “Y/N/N, I— I mean… but you— you-”

“Am kinda sweet on you too”

The man in her lap offers her a smile that splits his face- She thinks it’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen, even if he’s blatantly exhausted.

“So…” she sighs, beaming back at him “…You get some rest… I’ll finish some work that I can’t make Tony’s problem and then…” she purrs, stroking her free hand through his hair, “Then we’ll see about the kissing…”

Masterlist

[just-some-random-blogger]

Magic Flute

Aemond Targaryen x Librarian!Reader

Summary: You were in charge of upkeeping the room of knowledge in the castle. Aemond was in charge of upkeeping the upkeeper's sanity.

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: Brief mention of mama issues, crying, fem!reader, smut (public sex ig, praise kink, biting, vaginal penetration), established relationship, typos, etc.

A/N: move over daemon, it's aemond brain rot time. who needs therapy when you can write fanfics🎈 the title is totally not about aemond's magnum co-

"I can understand why people reread books," I speak to the silver haired man, though I make no effort to turn to him, since my focus was on tomes on its shelf, "but you, my prince, read that as if your life depended on it." I look over to Prince Aemond, who looks like I just asked him to jump out of the window beside him. I raise my brows, "perhaps you are unaware that has a second part?" He stiffens. My face contorts in horror when I see red rise up from his neck, "apologies my prince. I did not mean to offend you." With that, I scurry away. Aemond shot out of his chair and raised his hand for naught.

I heaved heavily, willing the tears streaming down my face away. I ripped at my cheeks and prayed to all the gods that Aemond would be late today.

I laugh pathetically at myself.

Like seven hells he'd be.

I rub my eyes one last time and release a deep breath.

I gather myself up, bunching my skirt in my hand. But before I could even walk to the end of the isle, I drop the cloth and gasp at the sight of the prince standing before me. My hands fly to my chest. His own that were behind him fall to his side.

His one eye takes in the sight of my tears. He tilts his head, "what was it this time?"

"A splinter," I blurt too quickly, too unconvincingly, too prepared.

"Mm," he steps forward, "a funny thing to call your mother."

I do not rebut, nor do I move. I only allow him to press near enough that I could hear him breathe in the silence of the room. I gnaw at my lower lip as his hands land on my shoulders.

"Allow me to rephrase," his hands brush down my arms, "what did your mother say to you this time?" he mutters, taking my hands in his.

My eyes water so quickly that I could not do anything but cry.

His hands rest by my cheeks, pushing my tears away. I instinctively lean into his touch as I shudder out, "I would not dare worry my beloved prince."

"Then speak."

I close my eyes as I sigh. My hands grab onto his wrists and I begin to form the words in my head, "she made me out to be a fool again-- in front of everyone, my younger siblings, the good God in heaven, our housecats..." I heave, finally opening my wet eyelids. I frown deeper when I see his expression, the curve of his brows and lips.

"Aemond, I told you, I-"

He silences me with a kiss. It is firm but quick, and the moment he pulls away, he looks down on me with the same expression, "you're quite annoying when you're like this."

I am taken aback my his words. I scoff, "when I'm what?"

"When you think you're above being helped."

The annoyance on my face fades.

He lifts his head, as if in challenge, "you think I do not worry about the darkness in me that's corrupting you?"

"But that's diff-"

"How is that different?"

I knit my brows at his sardonic look and I grunt, "because I love you."

He chuckles, brushing back hair behind my ear, "you wound me deeply, lover," he presses a kiss on my forehead, "do I not show you enough that my feelings are mutual, if not more?"

I try to push back when he pulls me into his chest, just so I could look at him when I say, "you know I did not mean-"

"Yet it's what it means," Aemond dismisses, locking me in his arms until I have no choice but to relax against him. He releases a sigh once I do, kissing the crown of my head, "good girl."

I begin to snake my own arms around his torso, feeling lulled by the sound of his heartbeat against my ear.

Aemond leans his cheek against my head and rubs circles on my back, "now that my adoration for you has been brought to question," he pulls away to take my face in his hands again, "it is only right I recount all the ways my heart bleeds for you."

I am powerless against him when his lips press against mine. No amount of better judgement could have repelled me from kissing him so eagerly. Even as he shifts in his spot, pushing me against the shelves, sealing me against him, I do not squeak any form of protest.

It is only when his hands expertly grab at my skirts and handle my thighs that I finally gain some semblance of reason. I press my palms on his chest, half-heartedly pushing him off so I could moan his name in protest.

He mistakes this as praise as he bends and pulls me onto him, securing my legs around his hips. I hiss at the friction on my core and moan when I break our kiss, "Aemond, please."

His lips quirk, "so restless," he pecks my lips then trails down to my neck, "I'm getting there, my dear."

My hands dart to his shoulders. I do try to push him off but he is too eagerly working on my skin than I decide it would be better to dig my fingers into his nape and tug at his roots.

He moans my name against me, hips grinding me harder into the shelf.

"Aemond," I whine, breathlessly.

"Shhh," he kiss my lips, laughing darkly, "someone could hear."

All at once, the haze in my mind is lifted. By the time Aemond secures me against the shelf, I glare down at the scumbag, "that's what I've been trying to t-"

One of his hand flies to my mouth and my core is absolutely titillated by the vibrations of his chuckles as he rubs against me.

"Don't test me," he whispers against my ear, "you know I love the pretty sounds you make." The remaining hand on my thigh makes its way to my center. I screw my eyes when I feel his fingers rub against me. Aemond chuckles again, "be a good girl or I'll make sure you have no choice but to scream."

When he pulls his hand away from me, he props me down on the floor. I look up at him and gulp at his hot gaze as he undoes his pants. I lick my lips and watch him as he does so, readying my skirt back up, making him chuckle.

Once he is free, I don't manage to do much as he carries me back into our previous position and hastily sheathes himself in my burning heat.

He does a better job at concealing his groans. I however have to bite down on his shoulder to shut myself up.

"Good girl," he praises, positioning his hands on my thighs again, squeezing the flesh tightly.

My hands claw up to his shoulders as I pull my head back to allow myself to heave heavily.

He takes this as his cue to begin his ministrations. When he does, my arms latch around him and I bite my lip for dear life. I bottle in the whines I would have screamed out had we been in his chambers. In exchange, however, so I don't slip into madness, I rip at his blonde roots and bite at his earlobe.

He sucks in a deep breath, repositioning me against the surface so to get a better angle.

I cannot help but mewl against his ear when he begins to move so deliciously into me. I choke back whines, opting to bite down on his neck to keep myself mute.

He growls when I suck on his skin, pulling away. He looks down at me and warns with both his voice and his hips, "play fair."

I barely have my eyes open when I retort, "you feel so good."

I make the mistake of not closing my mouth after, which is why my moans ride up and down with this thrust.

"Fuck," Aemond mutters, covering my mouth with his in an attempt to shut me up. He nips at my lower lip, thinking it would make me close it, but I only end up moaning louder.

He quickly pulls away and slaps a hand back on my lips. He does not even scold me upon seeing how I was coming undone against him. His lips tug into a smirk as he roughens his actions, my moans threatening to spill from his palm.

"So pretty against me," he croons, as if he wasn't absolutely destroying me right this moment, "so loud and wanton, and all for me."

My pulse begins to quicken. My breath begins to lose me.

Aemond watches me as I open my eyes. He releases his hand on my mouth and I crumble against his shoulder, biting down again at his shoulder.

Aemond is so wondrously controlled that his brutal actions were barely audible, even with how he was fucking me against the ancient shelves.

"Say my name," he commands.

Obviously, I don't, cause I wont' say it, I'd scream it.

He still urges me though, and snaps his hips harder in that instant, "say my name against my ear so you will not forget again who loves you so, who makes you feel so good like this."

I hold back a whine. It takes everything in me not to be loud. I mutter under hot breath, "Aemond."

He growls, pace reaching a plateau at the speed he is in, "again."

The squeeze he gives my thighs make it impossible for me not to squeak. Still, I do my best to do his bidding, "Aemond."

And as if that was the secret code to pleasure, I clench around him and moan out his name one last time, a lot louder than anyone else in the vicinity would have enjoyed.

Aemond doesn't find it in himself to care as he chases his own high and subsequently spills into me as I shake against him in pure relief. The feel of him coming into me leaves me reeling.

He lets us ride the feeling up until he is too sloppy and spent to move at all.

I drag my lips over to his and pepper him with kisses as I repeat his name over and over and over again.

He leans into me, repeating the praise but with my own name instead. His hands finally release my thighs, only so he could gently put me down and bring his hands to my back.

I whine in protest, unwilling to unravel my legs against him.

He chuckles at that, and cannot bring himself to deny me of his touch. Aemond pulls me back closer, making me squeak and he throws me up in his grip to readjust me on him.

He kisses both sides of my cheek before muttering, "you did well, my love."

I wrap my arms tighter against him as I release a breath, "only because you did me well."

"Mm," he smiles, planting a kiss on my lips.

"My prince!"

My heart leaps into my mouth.

The sound draws nearer, "Prince Aemond!"

As much as I don't want to, I shuffle against him. He looks down at me with a raised brow as he suppresses my motions. I whine, looking up at him, "Aemond," I whisper-yell, "he's going to-"

"My prince!" the voice yells, "are you h-"

"I swear to you," Aemond growls so loudly that I cower at its intensity, "if you so take a step closer here, I will have both your eyes and feed you to Vhagar."

I slap his shoulder, releasing a whine.

"What?" he turns to me with a pout, "you wanted this."

[justmeinadaze]

Take It Out On Me Part 24 (Steddie X Plus size You)

A/N: Im doing anything I can to keep these beautiful beings in our lives because I love them so much lol

Enjoy!

Warnings: Daddy Steve/Sir Eddie/ Sub Fem Plus Size Reader, SMUT, dirty talk, spanking, choking, handcuffs, slightly rough (the same that comes with these three), dp, slight degrading (whore, etc), FLUFF, *glances at image with knowing grin*, ANGST, the boys talk about how they'll never hurt her like their parents did them, readers weight is mentioned (she talks about her past relationships and how her weight played there sexually with how men viewed her as a big girl).

Word Count: 6084

“Steve. Eddie. Y/N and I need your help with something. Can you both come over by the theater downtown please and thank you!”

Masie can’t help but laugh when the BMW’s tires skid to a stop. 

“What’s going on, Maze? Everything okay?”

“Yes, Steve. Everything’s fine. Breathe and calm down a bit. I made that call because Y/N said you two could always tell when she’s up to something.”, she giggles as both boys huff, thankful that you’re alright. “Onward.”

Taking their hands, she yanks them across the street to a shop where a lot of fancy clothes were hanging in the window. 

“Gentlemen.”, Wayne smiles as he stands. “I’m supposed to help find ya’ll something to wear here.”

“D-Did someone die?”

“No, Edward. My God. Now pick a tux, please.”

“Ugh do I have to?”, he whines. 

“No, but trust me, you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

“Is he threatening me?”, Eddie whispers as he leans towards Steve.

“It sounded a bit like it, yeah.”

“Oh my God! Hurry! We are on a timetable here!”, Maze shouts as she claps her hands. 

While Masie helped Steve get into his outfit, Wayne focused on Eddie as he adjusted his wardrobe. 

“Y/N told me she was the girl you defended when she got pushed to the ground in middle school. It’s always been amusing to me the way you describe her…like she’s a fair maiden or princess.”

“She is. Honestly, she’s kind of what I pictured when I have a princess in my campaign.”

“But a badass princess who can wield a sword and stuff.”, Steve cuts in making him smile.

“She’s a good girl. I like her a lot and you to Steven.”

“Thank you, sir.” Wayne and Masie switch places as she goes to fix Eddie’s wild hair. 

“I want you to know that for what’s about to happen, Y/N did try and invite your parents but your dad hung up on her and your mom politely declined.” Steve growled at the thought of them disrespecting you. “Oh, I assure you, son, that didn’t bother her at all.”, he chuckles. “More than anything she wanted you to have family to be there for you—”

“When we’re sacrificed?”

“Shut up, Eddie.”, Wayne scolds causing him and Masie to laugh. “I told her that, well, Edward feels like you’re a brother to him which means you’re my son to so…”, he trails off as he pats him on the shoulder.  

“Thank you, Wayne. For everything.”

“Alright Miss Collins, we’re ready when you are.”, Mr. C announces as he appears from a back area. “Mr. Harrington…Mr. Munson…”

“Mr. C! Did you plan this? Are WE finally getting married?”

“No, Mr. Munson. I’m already married, thank God.”, he sighs in faux annoyance. 

“I’m ready. All right, close your eyes, boys, and NO PEAKING!”, Masie warns, prompting them to immediately do as she commands. 

Shuffling slowly forward, they feel themselves being lead somewhere before they are stopped and spun into a certain position. 

“Don’t move.”

“This where we make our last stand, Steven. Oh, and we’ll have witnesses.”, he retorts when he hears people giggle around them. 

“Oh, wow. You guys look so good.”, you breathily exhale as you take them in. 

“Y/N? What’s going on?”

“I thought about what you guys said about wishing we could get married. For a while I thought it was just something you thought I wanted but then I realized you both wanted and deserved a wedding to. Now, I can’t give you wedding either but I can give you a reception…”

“Ok, boys, open your eyes.”, Masie murmurs from beside them.

As they slowly do what she commands, the sound of someone off to the side taking pictures reverberates through their ears. Your friend had brought them into a small dance hall where other people surrounded you three watching the event before them. The entire Hellfire gang was in their suits beaming with pride while the other 3 members of Corroded Coffin stood patiently on stage. Eddie’s mom, husband, and her children were standing next to Wayne as he grinned happily at their reactions.

Robin and her girlfriend were beside your cousins with your uncle and aunt who flew down from New York just to take part in your surprise. Your mother wiped away a tear as your father pulled her closer to his side while Masie’s parents took pictures of their own. Mr. C and some of the kids from your class came down as well including a boy with a professional camera that you had hired to take photos of the event. 

When their eyes landed on you, you took their breath away. Maze, of course, did your make up in an elegant manner that made your eyes pop while leaving your hair down but curling parts just so that they framed your face beautifully. One side was pulled back with a silver flower clip that exposed earrings underneath and the sheer veil clipped to the back of your head.

The wedding dress itself was sleeveless with a flower pattern that blended in drawing attention to all of your gorgeous curves as the bodice hugged your body. The bottom had lace that puffed out ever so slightly blending with your veil as it touched the floor. 

Steve was the first to break, his palms clasping together over his mouth as he starts to cry. 

“Oh no.”, you giggle as you reach forward to wipe at his eyes. The room chuckles with you as he takes your hand in his and brings it to his lips. 

“You look so beautiful. Oh my god. I always pictured…imagined…but my brain didn’t do you justice, honey.”

Eddie squished his fingers in his eyes as his shoulder lightly shook. Grabbing his wrist, you lightly pull his hand away from his face and press your forehead against his. 

“I don’t deserve this. I don’t…I don’t deserve a gorgeous angel like you.”, he whispers.

“Yes you do, baby. After everything you both have been through, you both deserve so much more. I love you.”

“I love you to. You look absolutely breath taking.” As he wipes his eyes, he addresses Wayne. “Now you know why I describe her like a princess.”

The guests laugh again with a few awes mixed in. 

############

As the evening progressed, everything ran like a regular reception. Wayne catered the room with food he made himself that everyone enjoyed. You threw the bouquet, giggling in excitement when Robin caught it with her girlfriend blushing beside her. Your parents paid for the cake but instead of doing the whole smush the cake in your face thing, Eddie dipped his finger in the frosting and placed it on the end of your nose that Steve promptly leaned forward to kiss off.

You grinned as Eddie danced with his half-sisters while Steve did the same with Robin. When the metalhead’s mother asked to cut in your own mom disconnected from your father to ask the other boy if he would dance with her as well. 

“I’m sorry your parents aren’t here.”

“It’s alright.”

“It’s not. I know…we didn’t react well the first time we heard about you three but after seeing how you are together and everything you’ve done for her… I wish they could see what we see. It would have killed me to miss this.”

Steve glances towards where you were swaying with your father, smiling widely at something he was telling you. 

“Honestly, I wouldn’t have wanted them here anyway even if they did approve. My father has always been a stubborn asshole and he would have ruined this for her. I’m just glad you guys and Lynn are here for them.”

“Mr. Harrington, you don’t have to put on that protective suit of armor for me. You don’t have to be the big strong man 24/7. It’s ok to put that shield down.”

When your eyes meet his, he smiles and you deliver him a tiny wink.

“I’ve only ever done that with her.”

***

You giggle as Steve swings the front door to your house open and lifts you into his arms as he carries you through the threshold. Eddie runs in front of you two with a handheld camera Masie gave you guys as a present, recording you as the other boy places you on your feet and playfully spins you around.

“You really do look amazing in that dress, babe.”

“Why thank you, Eddie.”

He chuckles as he passes the device to Steve and picks you back up to carry through the threshold of the bedroom before tossing you onto the bed. You laugh as he falls in beside you and undoes his collar as Steve follows and does the same. 

“Did you guys have fun?”

“More than.”, the man responds, holding the camera above your heads so he can get all three of you in the shot. “Maze had everyone say a little something on this thing. Maybe we should say something to. We didn’t get to say vows or anything.”

“Like?”, you press playfully as you smile up at him. 

“Like I love you and you’ve completely changed my life.”, Eddie answers. “That I would do anything for you and I promise you’ll never have to worry about the same things my mother did.”

Your instinct was to stop and console him; to tell him you’ll never have any of those worries anyway but something also told you he wasn’t just telling you this but himself.

“I would never hurt you in anyway or our future kids. I won’t abandon you or end up in jail. I’m always going to be here for you and our family. You’re always safe with me, princess.” His palm grabs your cheek as he guides your lips to his. “For as long as we both shall live or some shit.”

You and Steve laugh at his curse as he passes the camera to Eddie so his own hand can come down to caress your face. 

“Your mom and I talked a bit while we were dancing. She said it was ok for me to let my guard down and that I didn’t always have to be the protector guy. Truth is she doesn’t know how high my wall actually was when we first met you. My parents made me believe I had to. My dad’s been scolding me since birth.”, he chuckles nervously as you turn your cheek further into his palm and kiss the skin. “Honey, you’re safe with me to. I’m never going to make you or our kids feel like they don’t measure up to some imaginary standard. I’m NEVER going to cheat on you or make you feel like you need to follow me around 24/7 to make sure I remain loyal.”

“I love you to, baby, and if our daughter or son comes home one day and says they are in love with two people we definitely won’t kick them out.” Eddie laughs as Steve grins and leans forward to kiss your smiling lips. “For as long as we both shall live or some shit.”

“Those first few months of our relationship, I was always so confused about you two. I thought Steve was a spoiled daddy’s boy and Eddie was just the town bad boy. People told me about your dad growing up, Ed, but it always seemed so out there. I never thought too much about it though because I didn’t know you. When I started getting to know you both, I got even more confused.”

“You were nothing like them and you still aren’t. I’ve never been afraid of you hurting me like your parents. More than anything, I was always afraid of being hurt again like with my ex. When you both showed me you were nothing like Christian, I became scared of hurting you.”

“That I’m A Burden damage?”, Eddie asked.

“Yeah.”, you giggle before sighing. “But I promise I never will. Eddie, you’ll never have to worry about me disappearing or casting you aside. Steve, you’ll never have to worry about me treating you like you aren’t enough. You both always go above and beyond for me. I love you both so much. For as long as we both shall live or some shit.”

Laughing, the metalhead turns off the camera and places it on the bed side table before nuzzling into your neck. 

“I have one more surprise if you guys are up to it.”

“Oh, honey, you’ve done so much for us already.”

“I know, Daddy, but this is kind of a thing is for me to.” You grin when he moves out of your way before pausing and pointing to the back of your dress. “Would you mind unzipping this part here, please?”

After doing what you ask, Steve holds your hand as you step out of it and lays it on the bed. 

“Would you mind putting this away for me while I get ready? And don’t get out of your suits! I think you both look really sexy like this.”

“Can we at least take off the jackets?”

“Yes, Sir, you can.”

Both men casually talk while they wait for you to come back out. Unlike in New York, the ensemble you were about to display for them wasn’t as complex. You wanted it to be simple and easy. As you stepped back out of the bathroom, Eddie’s eyes caught you first as his jaw fell open. 

The white nightie you were wearing was sheer as it did very little to hide your beautiful curves underneath. The spaghetti straps held on to your shoulders as the bottom just barely reached the middle of your thighs. Your breasts were blocked by the white satin but nothing was covering your core except for the see through garment. White stockings with cute little bows on the corner accented your legs as you displayed them side to side. 

“I was kind of hoping I could get mean Eddie and Steve but I didn’t think you’d be able to call me a whore in something like this. But…”, you coo as you place your hands behind your back. “With that roleplay we did, maybe, if you saw me as an innocent virgin… you could still be a little bit condescending.” 

After exchanging a look, their eyes fall on you again and slowly glaze over with a dark energy you had come to love when you three played together. 

“What makes you think we wouldn’t be able to call you names while wearing something like that?”, Steve asked with a slight edge. “You think just because you look beautiful in this thing here you’d be at some kind of advantage?”

“No, Daddy.”, you answer with a playful pout as you continue to guide them mentally where you need them. “I would never think to undermine big, strong boys like you that way. I just thought… this made me seem fragile…and you’d be too afraid to break me.”

“You say that like you don’t like being broken.”, Eddie sighs in annoyance as he rolls his eyes. “Baby, no matter what wrapping your in, you’re still a whore but—”

“You’re our whore.”, Steve finishes. “Always have been.”

“I have not always been a whore. YOU corrupted me. I was a good quiet little girl till you two came along.”

The rest of their demeanors caught up with their eyes as their smiles faded and they sat up straighter causing your breath to hitch at the sight. This is what you wanted, unable to contain a small smirk as they fully dropped into this particular dominate headspace. Now they just needed to help you fully step into yours. 

“Is that so? I specifically remember a few instances with empty classrooms, locker rooms, and storage areas that would disagree.”

“All memories that involve you two.”

“That you said yes to. That first night you didn’t say no or tell us to fuck off. Why is that?”, Eddie asked but even you knew it was rhetorical as he rose to his feet. “Because you, sweetheart, are a needy little girl who knew we could take care of you.”

“Did I?” 

You both stared defiantly into each other’s eyes as his chest rose and fell heavily. 

“So I see we’re doing this the hard way then?”

As you turned to glance towards Steve, you took note of his nonchalant demeanor as he remained on the bed leaning back on his palms. His eyebrows rose and fell quickly as if to challenge you to do what you were thinking. The way their eyes were burning into you so confidently pushed you into that innocent headspace that made you feel like the Y/N they first met; the scared, timid, introverted girl. You remembered the feeling of Steve staring at you and smirking when you got startled by the teacher. You remembered Eddie’s gaze boring into you as he stood in front of you, lingering over the desk when he asked why you were there and not even looking away when the other boy answered for you. 

You allowed that familiar feeling to wash over you and even though you had known these men for five years you suddenly felt afraid of how they were making you feel. They allowed you all the time you needed to get where you needed be mentally and when your gaze shifted back towards the metalhead, he knew you were there.

“Boo.”, he chuckled and as soon as the word left his mouth you ran. 

One benefit of having a home now was more room for the chase. That was honestly half the fun and it drove you crazy in a good way. Steve caught you first, cutting through the kitchen and blocking your exit as your practically barreled into his chest. 

“Whoa, baby girl! Where are you goin’?”, he mocks as he grabs your bicep and starts pushing you backwards. 

“Let me go!”, you shout as you shove your arms against him to no avail. 

His large palm roughly pinches your cheeks as he yanks you closer to him. 

“Stop. Fighting. We both know you want this so just take it like the good girl you claim to be.”

Something cold digs into your lower back and he quickly releases you long enough to grip your curvy waist and lift you onto the kitchen counter behind you. Steve’s lips crash to yours as he reaches between your bodies to unbuckle his pants, freeing his cock from his slacks. 

Spitting into his hand, you watch with wide lust blown eyes as he stokes himself a few times before guiding himself into your heat. He doesn’t inch his way in nor give you any time to adjust as he bottoms out and in this moment you welcome it. Wrapping your arms tightly around his neck, you inhale everything that is Steve as he pounds roughly into you. 

“J-Jesus, yes, Daddy. Please.”

Leaning back, his dark eyes lock with yours as he circles both hands around your neck and lightly squeezes. 

“Yeah? We told you that you wanted this. Fuck. Why do you fight it?”

“I’m sorry. I just want to be a good girl.”

Releasing his grip, Steve loops both his arms under your knees, pulling you closer to him as you balance on your palms behind you. At this angle, he slams into that soft spot deep inside you that has your eyes rolling as you whimper.

“You want to be Daddy’s good girl? Then fucking cum on my dick, honey.”

Trembling, you fall flat against the countertop as your back arches and your pussy quivers around him as you do what he commands. Chasing his own high, his hips aggressively hit your own till you hear him grunt and open your eyes to watch his face as he spills his release inside of you. 

As you both try and catch your breath, you turn your head towards the couch in the living room to see Eddie nonchalantly twirling your handcuffs on his pointer finger as his other hand palms the massive bulge in his slacks. The sight alone turns you on causing you to clench around the boy inside of you making him groan. 

“Better refuel, Stevie. We aren’t even close to done.”, the metalhead smirks as you look at him in confusion. “Oh yeah, princess. We’re going to fill all your holes tonight.”

After pulling out, Steve picked you up and placed your feet on the floor, promptly catching you as your knees buckled. 

“Oof. It’s ok, baby girl. Daddy’s got you.”, he coos as he guides you to the sofa and lowers you onto your knees in front of Eddie.

“Give me your hands, sweetheart.” You do as he requests and he kisses the back of each one as he locks the leather around your wrists behind you. “Oh, Harrington. Little girl seems to be behaving now. Your dick must be magic.”

You pout as they both chuckle before ringed fingers firmly grip your chin to lift your face.

“No pouting, little one.”, Eddie scolds as he loosens his hold and caresses your cheek. “Fuck me, you look perfect like this. On your knees looking up at me with those beautiful needy eyes.”

Sighing at his touch and praises, you turn your face into his hand and kiss his thumb as it runs along your lips. A low pleasure filled growl leaves his throat as he tugs you to your feet and yanks you towards the other side of the couch while unbuckling his belt. Flopping down onto the cushions, the metalhead pushes down his pants enough to free his cock and motions for you to sit on his face.

You hesitated too long; their eyes clouding over with anger again as Steve stomped around to where you were standing and spanked your behind making you yelp. 

“Why did I spank you just now?”

“Because you have to repeat yourself.”, you whisper. “But Daddy with my hands cuffed I can’t support myself—Oop!”, you hiccup when he spanks you again. 

“I don’t care, Y/N. Do you trust your Master?”, he scolds, his face pressed to the side of yours.

“With my life.”, you murmur.

“Then WHY are you hesitating when he’s telling you to do something?!”

“I’m sorry.”, you whimper.

Steve’s hands cup your cheeks as he turns you fully to face him. 

“Honey, that gorgeous woman we saw today in that stunning wedding dress deserves to be eaten out properly and cum as hard as she can. Eddie knows what he’s doing.”

“Unless it really makes you uncomfortable.”, Eddie whispers as he reaches out to rub your side.

“No, Sir. I’m not uncomfortable.”

Completely unbuttoning his shirt, he lays back flat and opens his arms. 

“Then climb aboard, princess.”

Keeping a strong hold on your bicep, Steve guides you till you were straddling the long-haired boy’s face. Leaning over his cock, you spit over his tip and watched it fall down his length as he moaned in pleasure. Eddie’s palm came down hard on your ass as his mouth wrapped around your clit.

Mewling, you tilted down and fully encased him between your lips as your tongue swirled around him. 

“Atta girl. Fuck, you taste so fucking good after you cum. Stevie, can you help me keep your cum inside her?”

“I’m gonna be leaning over you a bit. Is that ok?”

“Uh oh, Harrington. Are you turning into little miss here? I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t.”, Eddie chuckled as Steve smiled and rolled his eyes. 

Sliding two of his fingers into your pussy had your moan vibrating heavily around the metalhead’s cock making him groan as his tongue flatted and flicked against your swollen bundle of nerves. 

Energetic hands roamed your body as Eddie alternated from clinging to your hips to sliding them under your nightie to roughly kneed your tits and play with your nipples. Steve clung to your shoulder, allowing you some leverage so you wouldn’t fall completely forward as he pumped his fingers deep inside of you. 

“Shit. Lower, sweetheart. Get me nice and wet.” You do as he asks, lowing your head till you feel his cock hit the back of your throat. “That’s it. You like that don’t you, dirty girl.”

A palm suddenly gripped your hair holding you in place as Eddie thrust his hips roughly, his eyes rolling at the sound of your gags.

“Don’t…Don’t let her up yet, Steve. FUCK!”

Squeezing your own eyes shut, you remained still as you allowed him to use your mouth. Tears stung the corner of your eyes as you felt and heard him grunt loudly between your legs before his spend shot out in ropes, hitting the back of your throat. While both men picked up their pace, you swallowed every drop he gave, whimpering as you fell against his thigh till you shuddered and came as well.

As Steve tried to help you off his friend, you both misjudged your balance and the two of you tumbled to the hard wood floor. 

“Oh shit. Baby, are you alright?”, he asked moving your hair out of your face and smiling when he noticed you giggling. 

“Yeah, Daddy, I’m ok.”

Eddie slowly slithered to the floor, throwing off his shirt and fully pushing down his slacks. 

“This part I think should be the other side of us you like. The nice and slow part.”, he grinned as he tenderly kissed your lips. “Do you need a blanket or anything for you back?”

“No, Sir, the cold floor actually feels good against my skin.”

“Come here, pretty girl.”, a now naked Steve murmured as he took hold of you and placed you on top of him. You couldn’t help but smile as he smirked up at you, his glimmering eyes raking along your body. “So beautiful, baby girl.”

Balancing on your knees a bit, you lifted yourself up just enough for him to guide his cock into your entrance. He tried his best to control his features but you could tell it was contorting in a mixture of both pleasure and pain. 

“Daddy? A-Are you ok?”

“Yeah…yes…I mean, fuck… I’m, uh, still a bit…a bit sensitive.”, he stuttered through pants turning you on even more. 

“Pfft. You had more time to recoup than me, Harrington, but trust me. The high is so much better when you’re sensitive. Right, baby?”

As you nod to his question, his palm tilts you forward till your head falls in the nook between Steve’s shoulder and neck. After spitting between your cheeks, he gradually pushes his length into your ass. 

“God fucking damn it.”

Both men take hold of your wrists, Eddie on your wrists themselves and Steve on your forearms just below, and slowly but firmly begin thrusting into you. You swore you could feel every vein and throb as they dragged against your walls.

Their moans were strangled as they tried to control themselves from just pounding into and ending the immensely pleasurable feeling they were experiencing. Because of this they had become uncharacteristically quiet so you took over comforting them in that regard. 

“Fuck, Daddy, baby. You feel so good. I can feel you both so deep inside of me.” His head turned slightly into your voice and in return you gently kissed his jawline to the shell of his ear. “I’m yours, Steve. Forever. I love you so much.”

Tugging your hair to lift your head, his lips kiss your own and you melt into them both as Eddie bends down to rest his chin near your shoulder. His rings bite ever so slightly into your neck, bringing your head back even further so you were level with the side of his face.

“I’m yours to, Eddie. I love you, baby. Please—mmm—please make me cum again.”

After a quick but sloppy kiss, the metalhead pushes back up onto his knees and slams into you faster as they cling to your body. With nothing to hold onto, you allow yourself to let your body go, trusting that they have a good hold on you as you slip into the euphoria and cum hard around them both. 

Eddie’s palms roughly grip your hips till he grunts and spills inside of you, smacking your ass for good measure as he empties into you. Steve soon follows, wrapping his around you as he thrusts his seed into your cunt for the second time that night. 

“Fuck me.”, he heavily exhales, pausing when he notices you wince.

“Slow. Slowly please.”, you beg.

“We got you, sweetheart.”, Eddie whispers, rubbing your back as he carefully pulls out of you and comes to your side to your release your binds. 

Once your hands are free, you try to balance them in front of you but you’re still so shaky that you almost tumble forward. 

“Whoa, honey. Like Eddie said, we got you. You took care of us today, let us take care of you tonight.”

“For as long as we both shall live.”, the other boy teases making you smile as he guides you off his friend and to your feet. Lifting you bridal style again, he carries you to the bathroom and sets you on the edge as he begins getting the bath together. 

“I’ll never understand how you two can pick me up so easily.”

The metalhead’s eyes flick towards you with genuine confusion before focusing on his task once again. 

“I mean, I just take you in my arms and lift. Nothing complicated to it.” Placing his palms against the porcelain, Eddie turns to face you, his nose almost level with yours. “Is there a particular reason you feel like it should be harder?”

“Baby, I know you two have never cared about my size but that doesn’t change the fact that I AM a big girl.”, you playfully whisper as you bring your lips to his.

“Have any of your exes ever tried?”, Steve asks from his place by the sink. “To pick you up I mean.”

“No…no actually.”

Kneeling in front of you on his heels, the man takes your hands in his. 

“Then, honey, how do you know you’re too heavy to pick up?”

You had genuinely never thought about it before. It was almost like a mutual understanding between you and the men you had dated in the past that you were a big girl so certain things like trying to pick you up was a no go.

“I think I’m noticing a pattern here, Harrington.”

“Oh yeah? What is it, Munson?”

Taking hold of your arms, they guided you into the water before taking their own usual places behind and in front of you. 

“I’m going to take a wild stab in the dark here and you correct me if I’m wrong, babe, but you never sat on Christian’s face, yeah? Had you ever before us?”

You shook your head to his question.

“Mhmm. And with your exes, how often were you on top?” A small knowing smirk painted his lips as he watched you slowly come to the realization. “Y/N, sweetheart, how many times did you ask for things like that?”

“I…I didn’t know how. I mean…I’m…” You gesture towards your curves. “Of course I’d be too heavy…right?”

“Why of course? You’re not too heavy for us.”, Steve responded. “Honestly, baby, you’re not heavy at all.”

Eddie eyes had continued watching your face as you absorbed what they were saying. 

“No wonder your feelings for us scared you that first time around. Dating douchebags like Christian made you believe certain things about yourself and your body. To suddenly meet two who were the exact opposite in every way. Hell, I’d be nervous to.”

“WERE you nervous? You said you never dated anyone like me before.”

“Uh huh. Probably because I never actually dated anyone before.” Eddie’s grin grew as you made a face at him like you didn’t believe him. “Why do you think I’ve never mentioned anyone? I’ve had, I don’t know, partners but no one ever really wanted to go out with me. I’m too mean remember?”

“Yeah you are.”, you tease as you lean forward to kiss him. 

“Stevie here is the slut.”

“Yeah, yeah calm down, Munson.”, Steve smiled as you turned to look at him. “I may be the opposite but my outcome was the same. I’ve never been in a relationship. Like your mom said, Steve Harrington…out on the town every night with a new girl on his arm. I think the closest I got was some girl I was with for about a month.”, he sighs before shifting his gaze to you. “This is going to sound stalkery but I was always more curious about you.”

“A little creepy.”

“Noooo… Don’t listen to him, Daddy. I want to hear more.”

“I’ll make you deal. I’ll tell you more if you let us dry you off and get you in bed.”

After kissing his cheek, you nodded your head and allowed them to finish their aftercare routine with you. Grinning like a kid waiting to be tucked in, you sat on the edge of the bed as you watched them organize the discarded clothes and place them aside to be dealt with tomorrow. 

“This was gorgeous on you, princess.”, Eddie smiles as he delicately places your wedding dress on a chair in the room. 

“Thank you. Masie came with me and we got to do a whole little bridal thing with my mom. I have pictures but we need to get them developed.”

“I can’t wait to see them.” Steve beamed as he threw a shirt over his head and jumped into bed behind you to start brushing your hair. “I’m glad your kids and Mr. C came. I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Oh!”, the metalhead exclaimed as he bounced onto the mattress in front of you. “What did Mr. C say when you told him about all this? Was he jealous? I know that man is obsessed with me.”

“No, you goof.”, you giggle. “He thought it was a good idea. He, um, he paid for the venue. I insisted he didn’t have to but he insisted he wanted to calling it a gift.”

“Wow. That’s amazing.”

“I was going to tell you this tomorrow but my parents and Wayne also got us something, referring to it as a gift.” You point at your bag and Eddie hastily gets up to get it before sitting cross legged in front of you. You hand him an envelope, gesturing for him to open it as Steve finishes his task and wraps his arms around you as he waits. 

“Holy shit, Harrington.” 

“What is it?”

“Three fucking plane tickets to Italy.”

Completely bewildered, he snatched the contents out of his hand to look for himself. 

“They said it was for our honeymoon.”, you softly smile. 

“They didn’t have to do that.”, the man whispered.

“I said the same thing but Wayne told me to hush.”

They both laughed as Steve set the tickets on the bedside table and pulled you towards the pillows. Eddie followed and you immediately rolled into him, pressing your back into his bare chest.

“You were always so timid in high school.”, Steve stated as he turned off the light and shuffled down into the sheets. “So any time I saw you laugh or smile, I wanted to know more. In class, you were one of the first to raise your hand and when you were with your friends on the basketball team you were so animated.”

A pleasant sigh left your lips as he reached out to caress your cheek. 

“I was curious about what made you tick and I wanted to know everything about you. I wanted to be the one that made you laugh or feel safe. I wanted to be the one to give you everything you ever wanted. After we left that first night, I told Eddie how I felt. When he told me he felt the same way, I knew… I knew you belonged to both of us.”

Intertwining your fingers with his, you brought his lips to yours for a kiss before turning your head to do the same with Eddie. 

“Thank you for today, baby.”, Steve murmured. 

“And for every day before, sweetheart”, the metalhead added.

You can’t help but smile as your eyelids begin to get heavy.

“Till death do us part.”

#################

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[starsign-fics]

Henry Bowers and Kevin Khatchadourian (Either one or both!) with a motherly reader? For example they’re well with taking care of people and etc !

𝓜𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓵𝔂 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 (H.B)

Paring: Henry Bowers x Motherly!reader

Word count: 923

Warning: threatening, swearing, Basic Henry bowers things, no use of y/n, No pronouns used

Note: OMG this is literally my first ever request and I started screaming!! Thank you Sm anon!! Btw i'm sorry if you wanted hcs <3

It was the middle of the night, You were cozily lying in your bed drowning in your pillows and comforter. Suddenly the sound of rocks being thrown against the window of the room enter your ears awakening you from your blissful sleep. You remove the comforter from your body and walk over to the window peaking out the curtains which conceal your room to spot Henry bowers awaiting your gaze while standing in the middle of your front lawn like a serial killer.

Opening up the window to seek what kept Henry awake this late at night. "Henry?" you question attempting to read his expressions from the darkness of the sky.

"Can i come up. Please." it was low almost a whimper, the presents of sadness imported in his voice, Most likely from crying before appearing in the yard of your home.

Henry had been coming to your house recently, He had gained an unexpected attachment to you one day out of the blue and hasn't left you since. you had no clue on what caused the obsession to grow into the mind of Henry Bowers but it grew quickly it had only been a month since his claim over you and he had visited 15 times. Just like this one.

Opening the door to enter the hallway you softly step outside of your room carefully to not awaken your parents, You make your way down the stairs the anxious feeling flowing through your body in worry of a squeaky floor board blowing your whole plan to comfort Henry.

Finally making it to the last step you slowly unlock the door and open it to find Henry staring at you like a kicked puppy. It hurts you every time you have to see him like this, In so much despair from what he goes through at home, To know that he's found that you're his only moment of peace among his heartbreaking life. Every time you think about it your eyes begin to water.

You both stare at each other taking in all features shown by the light of the moon. You softly pull him into your arms careful not to touch any wounds that possibly be open from early on, He leans into your warmth while you take his head into you hands caressing your finger tips against his scalp in a attempt to calm his racing breaths.

"It's okay, I've got you. He won't hurt you while I've got you. I promise." You reassured him. You know he needed it, He needed Someone to take care of him. To be his safe haven to run to in his darkest times, And you couldn't lie. You loved being his safe haven.

You released your hands from his scalp and took his hand, guiding him up the stairs. One you both made it to your room was the first time he spoke since you found him in the yard.

"You tell anyone about this and i'll Fucking kill you. You understand?"

You could hear the shake of his voice while he spoke. The genuine fear in his tone. You knew he was trying to scare you, To keep you in his grasp longer in fear you would leave. The fear you would abandon him like his mother, The fear you would lose control of the pressure applied to you. That you would snap.

You fall back onto your bed signaling him to join you. He lays down next to you as you pull him into your chest. You hold him close to you as you wrap one of your hands into his dirty blonde locs and the other to rub you hand up and down his back.

"Do you need anything to eat or drink? Do you need me to clean any cuts? Cause i just bought a pack of band aids if you need them." You kept your tone low and soft so you wouldn't terrify him more than he was. You wanted to make sure he felt safe, Protected within you.

He stayed silent. Snuggling deeper within your chest snaking his arms around your waist to fully assure you were stuck with him. He squeezed you so hard you thought you were going to burst.

Henry didn't really talk during these moments, He didn't need you to talk either. He just needed to feel you, To have a space of comfort. You begin to get sleepy again from your bodies colliding, Adjusting your focus to each breath Henry took. Watching as his chest rises and falls. You heard him mutter something that you barely caught, But you were so glad you did.

"Thank you."

You felt your heart melting from the compassion he had for you. The trust he put into you to allow you to nurture him to comfort, To allow you to see him in his weakest of times. The motherly love he allowed you to gift to him.

"You don't have to thank me, Allowing me to care for you is enough. I know how difficult it is for you to put your trust into people." You spoke softly.

You felt as he finally let go, His body fully relaxed from your words. You could hear as his breaths got softer and more organized while he slowly drifted into a peaceful slumber.

He started to snore lightly, slightly letting go of his grip upon your body. You shut your eyes and listened to his snores drifting away into sleep with the boy you cared about the most.

[pigeon-smidge]

✦✩ Crowley & Aziraphale (Taylor’s Version) ✩✦

So for the past couple of months I’ve been pouring my heart and soul into an analysis masterpost of this playlist, a Crowley and Aziraphale playlist comprised purely of Taylor Swift songs. I had been curating this playlist for a little while over the latter half of last year, and around November or so I decided to write up an analysis for why I’ve included each song! Some are about a specific character, some about their relationship, and many are about both! Five-ish months and eighteen pages of analysis later, here we are. It’s been so awesome to combine probably my two biggest interests, and even if you’re not a swiftie, I encourage you to read some of this if you’d like to!! You might find some songs you really like the sound of. If you like it, please support :) I spent so long on this

The track list is as follows:

All You Had to Do Was Stay

Say Don’t Go

How You Get the Girl

You are in Love

Wildest Dreams

hoax

peace

mirrorball

Come Back … Be Here

The Very First Night

All Too Well (10 Minute Version)

The Archer

Death by a Thousand Cuts

Cruel Summer

tolerate it

champagne problems

ivy

Back to December

The Great War

Midnight Rain

Tied Together With A Smile

Don’t Blame Me

Dancing With Our Hands Tied

✩✩✩✩

Notes: song titles are in the same order as the track list. they're numbered and colour-coded by album (1989 and midnights share the same colour, as do folklore and rep because Tumblr has limited options) so it’s easier for people to find specific songs they want. They’re not in any particular meaningful order, just grouped by album. If you want to read specific song analysis, please scroll to that point, or open this post in its own window and do a page search (on mac it’s command+f , but I’m not sure about other operating systems.) Obligatory disclaimer that this is all my subjective analysis, both of Taylor’s songs and Crowley and Aziraphale’s characters. I am not making any assumptions about the creative intentions behind them, these are purely what they mean in my view. What I think is not necessarily what the creators intended. If you disagree with anything, that’s fine!! Just please don’t be rude about it. I’d love to hear what you have to say about it!! If you’ve got any thoughts or additions, please add them in a reply or reblog, and we can make it a discussion :D Check back in the future if you want, because I might be adding more depending on if I have some new ideas! ✩✩✩✩

Alright, with that stuff said, here we are!! Grab a snack and get cozy if you want, this is a long one. You can read as much or as little as you want!! I hope you enjoy :)

✦✩ Crowley & Aziraphale (Taylor’s Version) ✩✦

All You Had to Do Was Stay

Title is self-explanatory. However it fits both perspectives; Crowley begging Aziraphale to stay with him and to not leave for Heaven, and Aziraphale begging Crowley to stay with him. They both view the other as being opposed to their own plight because their failure to communicate leads to misunderstandings. Specifically the choruses are most relevant. The verses don’t really feel like they fit; they’re very, very angry and bitter, and describe a relationship that the narrator has pretty much moved on from (‘and people like me are gone forever when you say goodbye’ & ‘now you say you want it back, now that it’s just too late’ to name a few lyrics). I don’t think this is accurate to them as I don’t think they’re going to be able to move on in this way. I also don’t think they’re this angry with each other. The narrator, in the verses specifically, describes their partner in a very reductive way. ‘People like you [..]’ etc, is a very insulting way of talking. Not that either party isn’t upset with the other; I think they’re both very confused and hurt. But I don’t think they’re at the stage where they can be this vitriolic. Partially due to character reasons, and also because obviously the story isn’t going to end with them in the exact positions they’re in now (otherwise there wouldn’t be a third season and the show would be very unsatisfactory). They’re upset, but they’re resigned and bitter, as opposed to outwardly aggressive about the other. ✦ Notable lyrics: ‘You were all I wanted, but not like this’ Because Crowley wants Aziraphale but only if they can stay the same, not both angels in Heaven.  ‘Had me in the palm of your hand, why’d you have to go and lock me out when I let you in?’ Because Crowley poured his heart out and from his perspective Aziraphale didn’t think him enough to leave Heaven behind for. 2. Say Don’t Go

This is THE Aziracrow song. I had a 1989 (Taylor’s Version) listening party with my friends and when this played I went WAIT … especially the second verse and the bridge. The entire song is about begging someone to say that they want you to stay. Even though they both did tell the other they wanted to stay together, neither of them actually realised that’s what they were saying. ✦ Notable lyrics:

‘Cause you kiss me and it stops time, and I’m yours, but you’re not mine.’ The first half of the sentence being from Aziraphale’s perspective in reference to the kiss, and the second from Crowley’s, in reference to how Crowley’s much more accepting of his romantic feelings. 

‘I’m standing on the sidewalk, alone. I wait for you to drive by. I’m trying to see the cards that you won’t show.’ Because of those shots in the Final Fifteen with both of them ‘standing on the sidewalk’ watching each other from opposite sides of the road. Also, any lyrics with references to cars or driving makes me think of these two. ‘Cards that you won’t show’ is very interesting lyric, because it’s a reference to Aziraphale’s love for human magic tricks, and also to their inability to actually properly express and explain their thoughts to each other. ‘I said ‘I love you’, you say nothing back.’ Crowley’s perspective. 3. How You Get the Girl

This song is about how to apologise to someone after breaking their heart … while the breakup was not entirely Aziraphale’s fault (they BOTH need to learn to communicate and properly confront their feelings), some of the lyrics do have some similarities to their relationship.

✦Notable lyrics: ‘That you were too afraid to tell her what you want.’ He was just scared about what his feelings for Crowley mean :( 4. You are in Love

The single happy song on this playlist. Honestly, it’s a song which isn’t that specific to them and I feel like it’s applicable to every ship ever; you know, the Love Song. However, there are some lyrics in this song that have some of their vibes. The whole song is about how love is constant and yet unable to be put into words or exactly understood, which perfectly describes them. ✦ Notable lyrics: ‘He says ‘look up’, and your shoulders brush’ reminds me of someone telling someone else to look up at the stars !!! because Crowley made the stars and he was so happy about them :( and Aziraphale remembered that AHHHHHH

‘and why I’ve spent my whole life trying to put it into words’ it’s ineffable <3

5. Wildest Dreams This song is about falling in love with someone while knowing that it can never last.The relationship in this song is one that is magnetic and beautiful and messy, and the protagonist enters it while knowing it’s going to end but wanting to stay anyway. This describes their relationship perfectly. They both have a tendency to repress their feelings because they both feel like they can never be acted upon. Even them being friends is something that is constantly fraught with danger, something that they actively need to fight for if they want to keep it (See The Great War). To Aziraphale, indeed to both of them before their shared realisation of ‘this is possible’ because of Gabriel and Beelzebub’s confession, their relationship only ever existed in their ‘wildest dreams.’

✦Notable lyrics:

‘He said, “Let's get out of this town, drive out of the city, away from the crowds.” I thought, “Heaven can't help me now” Nothing lasts forever, but this is gonna take me down.’ All of Crowley’s invitations to run away; invitations that are always declined, even if Aziraphale wants so badly to go with him. There’s always a duty that pulls him away, something he feels he needs to fix before things can be how he wants them to be.

‘Nothing lasts forever’ HAHAHAHA … ‘I said, “No one has to know what we do.”’ A relationship that’s kept hidden. “He’s so tall, and handsome as hell. He’s so bad, but he does it so well.”Beauty and love that pulls you in, but feels wicked and frightening. See Cruel Summer.

6. hoax 

THE Crowley song. About loving someone who exposes your vulnerabilities; they feel like part of who you are, so they’re also your biggest weakness. ✦Notable lyrics: ‘Stood on the cliff side screaming ‘give me a reason’’ is very much ‘show me a Great Plan.’ ‘My best laid plan, your sleight of hand.’ References to magic!! Crowley prepared and tried to gain enough confidence to confess to Aziraphale and ask for them to run away together, but Aziraphale’s ‘sleight of hand’ and the Metatron’s influence messed with that. It looked like he was actually going to confess and they maybe had a chance, but then that all fell apart because he didn’t foresee any reason why Aziraphale would go back to Heaven . ‘You knew it still hurts underneath my scars from when they pulled me apart, but what you did was just as dark. Darling, this was just as hard as when they pulled me apart.’ Aziraphale ‘abandoning’ him hurt him greatly, as it felt like such a core part of him was being torn away. This is akin to what Falling would likely have been like, obviously not the same, but in both instances his sense of normal, his identity, and everything that he held dear to him was destroyed.  

‘You know I left a part of me back in New York.’Crowley and Aziraphale can both never truly leave the other without leaving ‘a part’ of themselves behind, because they’re so intertwined in each other's existences. 

7. peace

Describes how they could never find peace with each other because ‘hereditary enemies’ etc etc etc. They can’t be safe together; for a long time they couldn’t even admit their friendship because it would mean danger. We can still see this in Aziraphale; he’s constantly afraid of doing the wrong thing when he should be a good angel.

8. mirrorball

THE Aziraphale song. Perhaps one of the most Aziraphale songs of all time I'm genuinely not joking or exaggerating it's SO GOOD. About a people pleaser who revolves their life around others. Their existence and value is determined by their role in relation to someone else and how well they serve said role. The image of a mirrorball, shining high above the dancefloor, providing light and a shiny jewel for everyone to look at, yet being all alone (that Taylor Swift described was the inspiration for the song), is very fitting. ✦ Notable lyrics:

‘I’ll show you every version of yourself tonight.’ For so much of his life, Az’s purpose has been to serve Heaven. This lyric reflects that. His character growth throughout the show largely focuses on him coming to terms with their lies and abuse, and forming moral codes of his own.

‘You are not like the regulars, the masquerade revellers, drunk as they watch my shattered edges glisten.’ ‘Masquerade revellers’ referring to the angels, watching Aziraphale ‘break in a million pieces’ to serve Heaven, without understanding that he has limits and he’s his own person.

‘Hush, when no one is around, my dear, you'll find me on my tallest tiptoes, spinning in my highest heels, love, shining just for you. Hush, I know they said the end is near. But I'm still on my tallest tiptoes, spinning in my highest heels, love, shining just for you.’ Aziraphale only really acts himself when it’s just him and Crowley and they’re free of Heaven and Hell’s observing forces. Also ‘I know they said the end is near’ ; reference to Armageddon!! ‘I’m still a believer, but I don’t know why, I’ve never been a natural, all I do is try try try’ He’s trying to be good but his warped understanding of what good is hindering that. He has such a low self-esteem especially in regards to his own ‘goodness’, hence he tries so hard :( he’s just trying to do the right thing but he doesn’t realise what he believes to be right is far from it ahhhhhh

‘I’m still on that tightrope, still trying everything to keep you looking at me.’ Remember the ‘I’m standing on a tightrope, alone.’ Lyric from Say Don’t Go? He’s positioned above everyone else, on a completely different level to them, representing his isolation and unique status as really one of the only angels who’s simultaneously trying to do the right thing to help people while following the will of Heaven, things which often contradict each other.

9. Come Back …. Be Here

Long distance anthem!!!!! Them pining after each other after the s2 finale when they’re separated; it mostly feels like Crowley’s pov. 

✦ Notable lyrics: ‘taxi cabs and busy streets that never bring you back to me’ London is busy, but to Crowley, it feels empty because one of the things he loved the most is gone. ‘If I'd known what I know now, I never would have played so nonchalant.’ Because their own constant inability to confront their feelings and dancing around their relationship is what lead to their misunderstanding and then them being separated. If they had actually talked about things together, maybe they’d have a better understanding of their relationship and what the other wants.

10. The Very First Night.Nostalgia and looking back on what was. Very fitting for a show with immortal beings that features their histories together all throughout time. ‘I knew the angel you used to be.’ ‘The angel you knew is not me.’ ✦ Notable lyrics:

‘I wish I could fly, I’d pick you up and we’d go back in time, I’d write this in the sky, I miss you like it was the very first night.’ opening scene of season two, CROWLEY MADE THE STARS DKAJNS They both want things between them to be normal and safe. Aziraphale thinks that them being together in Heaven, like things used to be, would ensure this, but Crowley of course wouldn’t touch it with a ten foot pole. ‘I wish I could fly’ is interesting. Falling being akin to clipping a bird’s wings; removing them of their power. Obviously Heaven would think taking away an Angel’s Heavenly status is a terrible punishment. It’s interesting because Crowley doesn’t actually wish he could fly because he doesn’t want to be an angel again. This lyric could be representative of both of their wishes for more power to be able to change things. They both want to be able to make things better for the two of them and for everyone else, Aziraphale just thinks he has to become a better angel and embrace his Heavenly duties even more in order to make things how he wants them (‘If I’m in charge, I can make a difference.’)

11. All Too Well (10 Minute Version)

One of her most iconic breakup songs …. but this song, and the 10 minute version specifically, has lots of lyrics that remind me of them. Notable lyrics: ‘Something ‘bout it felt like home, somehow’ Aziraphale was home to Crowley, when neither Heaven nor Hell ever treated Crowley like he had a place. One of my favourite metaphors in this show is the use of Crowley’s glasses to represent his vulnerability. The bookshop is one of the only places he ever takes them off because it’s the only place he feels really safe. Him taking them off during his confession only to put them back on again when he realises Aziraphale isn’t going to follow him, and then being on during the kiss is just so symbolic!!!! AJSNBSKDNSBSK ‘You almost ran the red cause you were looking over at me’ obligatory driving lyric ‘you used to be a little kid with glasses in a twin sized bed’ Crowley used to be so happy about making the stars :( ‘Oh, your sweet disposition, And my wide-eyed gaze’ THEM !!!! More vibes of them as angels though. ‘And I was thinkin' on the drive down: Any time now, he's gonna say it's love. You never called it what it was. ‘til we were dead and gone and buried, check the pulse and come back swearing, it's the same after three months in the grave. And then you wondered where it went to as I reached for you but all I felt was shame, and you held my lifeless frame’ This entire section is them. Aziraphale could never admit their friendship or his own feelings because of his relationship with heaven. He feels ‘shame’ because it’s not what he should be doing as an angel. ‘And there we are again when nobody had to know. You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath. Sacred prayer, and we'd swear to remember it all too well, yeah’ Hiding their relationship because az is afraid and it puts both of them in danger. However Crowley doesn’t have the same loyalty to heaven or hell so he keeps aziraphale like an ‘oath’ because it’s an important vow as opposed to something you have to keep hidden. Also any references to prayer is yeah !!!! ‘Well, maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much.’ Because they never talk about their feelings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ‘They say all's well that ends well, but I'm in a new hell every time you double-cross my mind. You said ‘if we had been closer in age maybe it would've been fine’ and that made me want to die’ References to hell. Crowley thinks Az will only love him if they’re both angels (but this isn’t true, while Aziraphale does still have biases against Hell because of Heaven’s abuse -’You’re the bad guys!, etc-, he just wants them to be happy :( ) Also ‘every time you double-cross my mind’ is such a clever piece of lyricism. I’ve got nothing too deep to comment on with that one, it’s just plain clever. ‘The idea you had of me, who was she? A never-needy, ever-lovely jewel, whose shine reflects on you’ Again, Crowley thinks Az will only love him if they’re both angels. Aziraphale also deeply failed to understand that Crowley doesn’t want to go back to heaven; this section is from Crowley’s view that aziraphale only cares about him as an angel, which is partly true but he remembers how happy and safe they both were as angels, and he just wants that feeling back. ‘I'm a soldier who's returning half her weight’ fighting for a broken cause; applicable mostly to Aziraphale’s loyalty to Heaven, but could also have meaning in regards to him and Crowley (See The Great War). ‘I still remember the first fall of snow and how it glistened as it fell. I remember it all too well’ because they were together for the very first fall of rain EVER !!!1

12. The Archer This is perhaps one of Taylor’s most Crowley songs ever. His anxiety and paranoia. He’s constantly on edge, constantly worried. He’s lived consistently exposed to danger and lies in every single direction with Aziraphale being the only one he could really trust, and even then, the two of them weren’t ever fully honest with each other. ‘The archer’ is someone who is consistently ‘ready for combat’ and thus sabotages their relationships because of this and feels guilt for it. ✦Notable lyrics: ‘I jump from the train, I ride off alone.’ Crowley’s way of dealing with stressful things is to run away from them. He consistently abandons situations he isn’t prepared to deal with because he ‘never grew up’ and gained the ability to properly communicate his feelings. Him walking out the bookshop door and driving away could be a representation of him running away from his feelings for Aziraphale because the fragile hope he’d gained in the previous scene had been torn down.

‘I’ve got a hundred thrown out speeches I almost said to you.’ Because they never actually talk to each other:

‘Because you and Mr. Fell don’t ever talk to each other.’

‘We talk all the time, trust me. We’ve been talking for millions of years. Blah, blah, blah, blah. I say something brilliant, he says something unintentionally funny back, it’s great.’

‘You never say what you’re really thinking.’

‘I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost, the room is on fire, invisible smoke.’ Bookshop fire ….. also just general restlessness and inability to sleep; to rest, because he always feels like he needs to be fighting for what he has and wants otherwise he’ll lose it. 

‘All of my enemies started out friends, help me hold on to you’ Crowley’s whole life and sense of self was torn away from him and burned, and any relationships he managed to have before he Fell would have gone up in flames as well. His desperately self-sustaining and combative attitude towards existence was likely borne from this; being unsteady in anything he ever gained. Aziraphale obviously was the only relationship he really was able to ‘hold on to’,  but even the angel was never able to fully feel like he could be himself … and also, this lyric:

‘screaming who could ever leave me, darling? But who could stay? [….] you could stay.’ Except ‘he’ didn’t stay, did ‘he’?

13. Death by a Thousand Cuts

A breakup song about a relationship that you can’t move on from because it formed such a key part of you for so many years. It was ‘a great love; one for the ages’ yet you’re ‘still writing pages.’

✦ Notable lyrics: ‘I ask the traffic lights if it’ll be alright, they say ‘I don’t know’’ very much Crowley driving around aimlessly trying to fill up the space Aziraphale left behind.

‘I get drunk but it’s not enough because the morning comes and you’re not my baby.’ Because that’s also how Crowley copes with his feelings when they get too overwhelming; running away and drowning himself with drink.

‘Gave up on me like I was a bad drug, now I’m searching for signs in a haunted club.’Aziraphale doesn’t really feel comfortable admitting his relationship with Crowley. We can see that Crowley doesn’t like this through, for example, their dialogue when Crowley first asks for holy water (‘fraternising’ etc). To Crowley, Aziraphale leaving must have felt like Crowley wasn’t enough to stay for, and that Aziraphale never really loved him as much as he loved Aziraphale. Also bears similarity to Don’t Blame Me (‘Lord save me, my drug is my baby, I’ll be using for the rest of my life, oh.’) which gives the impression of love that was addicting and powerful, but it became too much. ‘Our songs, our films, united, we stand, our country, guess it was a lawless land.’Get ready because this line is so much more meaningful than I ever realised when I added it to this post. ‘Our songs’ something something nightingales.

But the real meat of this lyric lies in the second half. The phrase ‘united, we stand, divided, we fall’  is often used in mottos of organisations and countries in order to inspire collaboration and patriotism for them. It preaches the importance of staying loyal to a certain side, for if division sows among them, then they will ‘fall.’ Historically, it has been frequently used as war propaganda in WWII, and the American Revolutionary War. It has also been used in the struggle for Indian independence, by Ulster loyalists in Ireland, and by many political leaders, for example. Similar phrases can be found in the Bible, for example in in Mark 3:25 (If a house is divided against itself, that house cannot stand),  Matthew 12:25 (Every kingdom divided against itself is laid waste, and no city or house divided against itself will stand), and Luke 11:17 (Every kingdom divided against itself is laid waste, and a divided household falls).

In this song it describes the relationship between the singer and their former lover, which further animates their love as a physical nation or state (as well as a house with the lyrics ‘I look through the windows of this love, even though we boarded them up, chandelier’s still flickering here ‘cause I can’t pretend it’s okay when it’s not).

This animation and the use of this specific phrase which has been used to garner a sense of loyalty towards a cause shows their love to have been a deeply personal thing, something you pledge your devotion to. However, in this song it’s contrasted with the lyric ‘Guess it was a lawless land’ which shows that the nation and love was hollow. It fell apart due to division.

Remind you of anything? Loyalty conflicts is a big part of this show, particularly with Aziraphale’s character, who is still shown to be attached to Heaven as late in his character arc as the Armageddon storyline in season one:

‘Even if I did, why would I tell you? We’re on opposite sides!’

‘We’re on our side!’

‘There is no ‘our side’, Crowley!’

Aziraphale’s turmoil between his Heavenly duties and his feelings for Crowley (not just romantic, even their friendship) is a large part of his unwillingness to admit their closeness, but he’s also just afraid that they’ll get punished. He’s just afraid.

 ‘we could’ve been …. us.’ 

‘our side.’ 

‘a group of the two of us.’

etc , etc

Their relationship is repeatedly treated like it’s its own ‘side’ or ‘group’ that can be pledged allegiance to or deserted. This perfectly sets up Az’s character conflict and growth. It’s so GOOD!!!!!!

It also has a double meaning with Heaven’s patriotism, which has a façade of goodness but is really very corrupt and ‘lawless.’

‘But it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t enough, no, no.’Crowley tried so hard to convince Aziraphale to go with him, he did everything he could, but it didn’t work. That’s what the kiss was; not a moment of love, but a moment of desperation. A final attempt to lay everything out. But it wasn’t enough.

14. Cruel Summer

Secret relationship that makes you feel whole but destroys you at the same time. ‘Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes.’ Religious language. The inability for Heaven and Hell to understand love, and even just friendship, between angels and demons is possible. Hell, and the demons, ‘roll[s] the dice’, the language featuring references to gambling shows their more opportunistic nature and need to trick every situation into benefiting them, because otherwise they’re stuck at the bottom of the pile. They can risk everything on a bet that could see them losing all their money, but they don’t really have anything to lose, which makes them very dangerous (like Furfur). Heaven is more judgemental, ‘roll[ing] their eyes.’ This judgement is what Aziraphale is afraid of (and, of course, the physical retribution that follows). It’s rather akin to an abusive relationship such as between a parent and a child, with an unhealthy power dynamic and Heaven always having more control. The child is always trying to do what’s right, but their view of what is right is often in relation to what their parent has raised them to believe is right, or simply in relation to whatever will make the parent happy. This is an analogy that perfectly describes Aziraphale and his internal conflict. ‘and if I bleed you’ll be the last to know’ Az hides his distress and doesn’t like people seeing him cry. See Tied Together with a Smile (second to last song). 

‘and I scream for whatever it’s worth; ‘I love you, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?’’ From Crowley’s perspective, Aziraphale loves Heaven more than him, and loving him is something that is shocking and unthinkable. Aziraphale is aware and okay with his feelings for Crowley, he’s only okay with them on a very, very surface level. He’s only sort of okay with their friendship, but doesn’t want to acknowledge anything more than that. So even if a confession of love is something Aziraphale wants from Crowley, he also doesn’t want to hear because he knows that they could never work. AHHHHHHH 15. tolerate it Largely about Aziraphale’s relationship with Heaven. He gives them everything and works so hard to be a good angel but they never fully value him.  ✦ Notable lyrics: The bridge also is in reference to his and Crowley’s relationship: ‘While you were out building other worlds, where was I?’ Because they made the stars!!!!! 

‘Where’s that man who threw blankets over my barbed wire? I made you my temple, my mural, my sky … now I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life.’ CROWLEY CROWLEY!!! Also religious imagery is just *chef's kiss*.

16. champagne problems

About a proposal that’s refused … I feel like I do not need to elaborate much on this, however it does apply to both of them, because they BOTH were offering something that the other refused. ✦ Notable lyrics: ‘this dorm was once a mad-house, I made a joke, ‘well it’s made for me’’ Crowley vibes. ‘I never was ready so I watched you go.’  Aziraphale wasn’t ready to fully turn away from Heaven, so he had to watch Crowley leave. ‘You had a speech, you’re speechless, love slipped beyond your reaches.’ Crowley tried so hard to convince Aziraphale; he knew he had to start talking first because if not he’d ‘never start talking. He knew what he was going to say, he ‘had a speech’ but it ‘wasn’t enough’ and Aziraphale ‘slipped’ away.  

17. ivy

This song is about an affair, and it’s also a very, very queercoded song. To Aziraphale, his relationship with Crowley feels like figuratively cheating on Heaven, ignoring his duties and shunning his responsibility and role as a ‘good angel’. Notable lyrics: ‘He’s in the room, but your opal eyes are all I wish to see.’ “But it’s pretty!” 💛💛 ‘So tell me to run, or dare to sit and watch what will become.’ Aziraphale’s relationship with Heaven is very mentally abusive. He will only be free of their influence if he ‘runs’ from them. He can’t stay connected to Heaven and be truly free and happy. 

‘So yeah, it’s a fire, it’s a goddamn blaze in the dark and you started it, you started it. So yeah, it’s a war, it’s the goddamn fight of my life, and you started it, you started it.’ Both of their, but especially Aziraphale’s, internal conflict symbolised through fire and war. ‘Spring breaks loose, but so does fear’ Their bond and love has remained throughout history, and with Gabriel and Beelzebub revealing their relationship, the spark of hope was lit in both of them. ‘Spring [broke] loose’ but the Metatron’s offer subsequently pulled Aziraphale away from Crowley and reignited some of the ‘fear’ that he’s spent the show trying to grow away from. 

‘He’s going to burn this house to the ground.’ Speaking of Aziraphale’s fear; he’s worried about what admitting his feelings for Crowley, romantic or even just their friendship, will mean. The danger that it will draw. This lyric also has an interesting double meaning, referencing the literal burning of Aziraphale’s bookshop.

18. Back to December.

Another song about apologising to someone for breaking their heart. ✦ Notable lyrics: 

‘You gave me all your love and all I gave you was goodbye.’ The first part of this lyric is only really relative to Crowley’s confession in the Final Fifteen, because their relationship has never really been stable; they never gave the other ‘all [their] love’ because their fear stopped them. Crowley only ever showed his love to Aziraphale because he felt like he didn’t have a choice and it was the only thing that could save them. But Aziraphale 

‘But then the cold came, dark days when fear crept into my mind.’ I initially added this lyric because it reminded me of Aziraphale, but it also now reminds me of both of them. Their own fears interfered with their abilities to accept the other’s confession and to be happy. They need to both grow and learn before they can actually have a healthier romantic relationship.

19. The Great War

The metaphor of relationship troubles and trauma being connected to war.

There are some references to said relationship troubles relating to the inability to properly confront feelings and issues, instead turning away and using silence as a punishment to avoid really having to change your relationship.

Also relevant because their relationship isn’t just a metaphorical war; there is the imminent threat of literal war between Heaven and Hell, and literal physical negative repercussions to each of them due to their love being known. The motif of soldiers is also connected to the line of ‘I’m a soldier who’s returning half her weight.’ from ATW10MV.

✦ Notable lyrics:

‘It turned into something bigger, somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed. Your finger on my hair pin triggers …. soldier down on that icy ground, looked up at me with honour and truth, broken and blue, so I called off the troops. That was the night I nearly lost you. I really thought I lost you.’

They are each other’s weaknesses; see hoax. Their inability to communicate their feelings lead to the breakdown of their relationship. They ‘really thought [they] lost’ each other. ‘And maybe it's the past that's talkin’, screamin' from the crypt. Telling me to punish you for things you never did. So I justified it.’

A bit part of Aziraphale’s character is his journey of developing his own sense of morality independent of Heaven’s. This is especially delved into in season two through, for example, the Job storyline and the Edinburgh storyline. However, we can see that he’s still very much under the influence of Heaven’s abuse during episode six through the way he still believes what they say about right and wrong and about the nature of Hell (‘Of course you said no to Hell, you’re the bad guys’ as opposed to ‘they’re the bad guys’). He doesn’t want to do anything malicious, and he doesn’t want to leave to Heaven, with his conflict about staying or going being quite obvious (as numerous points in the Final Fifteen he appears very tortured, frequently hesitating and trying to say things other than wanting to go back to Heaven). But he feels like it’s what he had to do, ‘So [he] justified it.’

20. Midnight Rain

This song is actually on their official playlist!!! About moving on from someone who wanted something different out of your relationship; a sentence which almost perfectly describes the way they view their relationship (of course, their misunderstanding led them both to believe the other wants something different, when in actuality they both want the same thing; to be safe together).

‘My town was a wasteland, full of cages, full of fences, pageant queens and big pretenders, but for some it was paradise’ 

&

‘It came like a postcard, picture-perfect, shiny family, holidays, peppermint candy, but for him it’s every day.’Heaven… I don’t think I really need to elaborate on this.

‘He wanted it comfortable, I wanted that pain. He wanted a bride, I was making my own name, chasing that fame, he stayed the same, all of me changed like midnight rain.’

Crowley wants them, he wants them to be ‘comfortable’ and safe, and he thinks that’ll only come if they distance themselves from both Heaven and Hell. Aziraphale also wants this, but he also can’t leave Heaven behind to the extent Crowley wants him to. He wants the ‘pain’ of belonging to Heaven’s institution and having high value there, because it’s familiar to him. It might be incredibly abusive, but it’s home to him. 

He wants to do the right thing, and he thinks that the only way to do that is to stay there. Ahhh ..

21. Tied Together With A Smile

Aziraphale song :( another one about his massive insecurities, folks. 

✦ Notable lyrics:

‘you walk around here thinking you’re not pretty’ Aziraphale always doubts how good of an angel he is and how well he’s doing what’s expected of him.

‘That you cry, but you don’t tell anyone, that you might not be the golden one, and you’re tied together with a smile but you’re coming undone.’Aziraphale doesn’t like letting anyone see him cry. He always turns away and tries to pretend he’s the ‘golden one’, trying to pretend everything is fine and he’s always doing exactly what Heaven wants, yet he is so insecure about his goodness. 

The entire second verse about him wanting love and praise from Heaven: ‘I guess it’s true that love was all you wanted […] but he leaves you out like a penny in the rain’ he’s tossed aside and talked down to by the people he works so hard to do the right thing for.

22. Don’t Blame Me Mainly this song is included because of its heavy religious motifs. It’s very reminiscent of a gospel song, also connections to Cruel Summer; ‘love made me crazy’. Of course a lot of this song is very ironic because it describes a love so strong and intense that it ‘made [me] crazy’, that you disregard everything ‘true’ and ‘right’, only doing what you feel is right in connection to your lover, nothing else mattering. However, this is absolutely NOT what happened in this show, in fact the exact reverse. I think this song describes how Crowley feels; not feeling connected to the institutions of Heaven and Hell and being willing to leave them completely behind. Perhaps it also describes a hypothetical future in which Aziraphale has grown and reached the point he can comfortably leave Heaven completely.

✦ Notable lyrics: ‘Baby I would fall from Grace, just to touch your face. If you’d walk away, I’d beg you on my knees to stay.’ Because .. because that’s what happened. They begged eachother to stay :( Also religious language. ‘I get so high, oh, every time you’re, every time you’re loving me, you’re loving me.’ Their relationship is so powerful (especially how they were able to perform the really large miracle ACCIDENTALLY). ‘Something happened for the first time in the darkest little Paradise.’ Religious language. Them being together is their own ‘little Paradise’, because, due to them being forced to hide the nature of their relationship, their relationship becomes very intimate and personal. ‘Halo, hiding my obsession, I once was poison ivy but now I’m your daisy.’ Religious language. Aziraphale helps Crowley be able to relax and to rest, letting down his guard. Crowley’s not fully able to do this, and he’s not fully willing to embrace the fact he is indeed ‘nice’, but he’s getting there. He’s still The Archer, but he can put down his bow slightly easier (but of course, the one time he fully put it down and opened up his heart, he was burned, so I don’t think he’ll be doing it again any time soon). ‘Lord save me, my drug is my baby, I’ll be using for the rest of my life, oh, oh.’ This lyric is particularly meaningful when parallelled to Death by a Thousand Cuts; ‘Gave up on me like I was a bad drug.’

23. Dancing With Our Hands Tied This song describes a love that you desperately want to be hidden yet you know that it’s only a matter of time before everyone finds out and the danger starts.To have one’s hands tied is to be unable to affect something, representing how their relationship and their own lives were always out of their control because they could never live how they wanted to without fear of retribution (an excellent metaphor for queerness). Additionally, the motif of dancing, which in this context is an intimate and notably private act between the two lovers, is happening while the lovers’ hands are tied, representing the division and conflict that intrudes even while they’re alone together (‘Something happened for the first time in a darkest little Paradise’ from Don’t Blame Me). 

✦ Noteable lyrics: ‘I, I loved you in secret.’ ‘Yeah, we were dancing, dancing with our hands tied, hands tied.’ See above for analysis of the title lyric!! This song also reminds me of them because thy did actually dance together in season 2 episode 5, which is one of my all time favourite GO episodes. ‘I, I loved you in spite of deep fears that the world would divide us. So, baby, can we dance, oh, through an avalanche?’ They couldn’t live how they wanted because of ‘deep fears’ that outside forces would ‘divide’ them, which in the end is what happened. Feeling like the world is against them (‘angels and demons, they can’t just-’)

Honourable mentions!!

Lyrics that make me think of them but there’s not enough content in the overall song to justify it being put on the playlist. They don’t have much, if any, elaboration, but if you want to hear my thoughts on any of these, let me know!! Of course I’ll add analysis to these if anyone wants them. This will probably be the section of the post that’ll be updated the most frequently, and feel free to reply or reblog with any of your additions :D 

~~

‘Just a shot, just a shot in the dark, oh oh.’ - Sweeter than Fiction, 1989 (remember the ‘I’ve known it from the very start, we’re a shot in the darkest dark’ from Say Don’t Go?)

‘Now you hang from my lips like the Gardens of Babylon. Your boots beneath my bed, forever is the sweetest con.’ - cowboy like me, evermore

‘Eyes full of stars, hustling for the good life […].’ - cowboy like me, evermore

‘And you asked me to dance, but I said ‘Dancing is a dangerous game.’ - cowboy like me, evermore

‘I knew it from the first, old-fashioned, we were cursed, we never had a shotgun, shot in the dark.’ - Getaway Car, reputation (again, the ‘shot in the dark’ lyric! Also this was my suprise song WHAT THE FUCK?!??!!?!?!?!?!?!?)

‘We were jet-set, Bonnie and Clyde, oh yeah, ‘till I switched to the other side, to the other side.’ - Getaway Car, reputation (‘We’re on our side!’ … ‘There is no ‘our side’, Crowley!’).

‘Cause lately I don’t even know what page you’re on.’ -The Story of Us, Speak Now

‘Oh, simple complication, miscommunication leads to fallout. So many things that I wish you knew, so many walls up I can’t break through.’ -The Story of Us, Speak Now 

'But I liked it better when you were on my side.' -The Story of Us, Speak Now

‘And I wouldn’t marry me either, a pathological people pleaser, who only wanted you to see her.’ -You’re Losing Me, Midnights

‘Loving him was like driving a new Massarati down a dead end street; faster than the wind, passionate as sin, ended so suddenly.’ - Red, Red

'You dream of my mouth before it called you a 'lying traitor.' - Is It Over Now? , 1989 (Taylor's Version)

thanks for getting to the bottom!! it means so much to me that you wanted to read this in any amount, you truly have no idea. here's a cookie 🍪 !!!!!

bye :D

[an-au-blog]

I have a horrible au idea...

cw: mention of human experimentation, child abuse, violence, panic attacks etc

(if anyone writes this pls send me link or tag me or something)

Modern au (with the og 5) where the strawhats are true crime content creators and like to dig in old cases, visit "haunted houses" and urban legends.

When one day they start looking at the Vinsmoke family's child disappearance case. There was almost no evidence and the Vinsmokes weren't even the ones who filed in the missing persons report. It was one of the private tutors they had. He was fired afterwards. The case was deemed a cold case and officially closed. The Vinsmokes moved to Germany and left a huge mansion behind. No one wanted to buy or maintain it. Many thought that they covered it up. There were too many oddities around the family.

So obviously Luffy decided to break into their old mansion. It's been almost 10 years since they moved. So they didn't expect any inhabitants.

They found the top floors abandoned and dusty (as expected). Creaking and spiders on the walls only added to the uneasy feeling that a standard haunted mansion vibe. The lower floors looked like someone actually came once in a while but they thought it's because a lot of people came here on dares or like them: for content.

What they weren't expecting was to hear noises from the cellar. Or attic? Whatever was down there... it was behind a wall and it sounded like crying. They couldn't find a way to bust down the walls but Nami and Usopp found the crack of the entrance and they cranked ot open.

It was what looked like a hiden prison with only a window for air to come in with bars on it. When the secret door thing was open, the crying stopped. They called out if anyone was there. No answer.

Bloodstains and rotting rat carcasses were on the floor. There was an operation bed and a cabinet of chemicals, syringes and other rusted tools. When one of them pointed it out there was a sound that came from the locked room.

It was obvious at this point someone was in there. They opened to see, to their horror that there was a skinny blond boy shriveled in the corner. Shivering and holding his hands up to protect himself.

He kept flinching and the surprising cries get louder every time any of the boys tried to approach him, he keeps getting full on panic attacks. The only person that didn't evoke that kind of reaction was Nami. (She looked a like his sister: short light hair (plus pink and orange look alike in the dark) and the rest of the men from his family used to abuse him) He was almost entirely nonverbal but a dna test confirmed that he was the Vindmoke's missing son: Sanji.

He slowly started warming up to the rest. He was going through a rehabilitation program but they kept visiting him. He started warming up to Usopp first. Sanji kept staring at his hair. The first time they saw him smiling was when Usopp let him play with his curls. The next to make him cheer up was Luffy. At first Luffy kept his distance because he felt so horrible he couldn't do anything and he couldn't bare to see Sanji act like that at the mere sight of him. But once he heard Usopp was a "safe" person, he did everything in his power to make Sanji laugh. The only one who Sanji never opened up to was Zoro. With his stature and green hair, he looked too much like Yonji. Zoro stopped going into the hospital room. He just waited in front of the room or in the car. He knew when he was unwanted.

That was until he finally revived and could leave the hospital. Nami couldn't come because of her finals, Luffy had to to pay his brother bail and Usopp was left preparing the surprised "party" for Sanji's release (it was going to be just them and a few family members like Nami's sister, Usopp's fiance etc).

It wasn't ideal, but Zoro was stuck picking him up. Sanji stayed at least 3 meters away from him at all times. When they got to the car three weirdly dressed men with colourful hair tried to approach them. Sanji started getting a panic attack, all the progress they've made down the drain. Zoro told them to fuck off but they kept walking closer. So he started fighting them. The security of the hospital got involved. And a mental note for a restraining order was made.

After that Sanji no longer saw Zoro as a copy of Yonji, but as a big guard dog to hide behind.

[doberbutts]

Thank you for talking about the “able to get to the door but unable to stay inside” thing re:stimulation. My issues are less severe than yours were (creates chronic fatigue instead of severe meltdowns) but it’s kinda the first time I’ve heard anyone discuss them as a legitimate disabling barrier. I still have this “if I just try hard enough” mentality that I’m trying to overcome, and it helps to have someone else go “no, this is a real problem.”

Honestly the brain injury really opened my eyes because I do have ADD and had childhood epilepsy (been seizure-free since I was 8 tho) so we were somewhat conscious about sensory stuff but a lot of it was like. Okay every once in a while you will touch something that is Bad Texture and you will scrub your skin raw about it for the next couple of hours. Annoying repeating sounds fade into the background for you but God Forbid anyone talks while you're concentrating because now they've ruined everything. You'd rather starve than put Tastes Bad into your mouth and have gone to bed with hunger pains many times as a result. etc etc etc for me it wasn't so disabling but largely that was due to my mom knowing how to manage my symptoms and teaching me from a very young age how to cope.

And then with the seizures my major warning sign was a colossal headache that refused to go away which was a sign to go lay down somewhere quiet and dark for a few hours until it passed or else a lightning storm would happen in my skull :D

But the brain injury... that really upset everything. Which is commonly reported, when I was finally able to speak I told my neurologist that I felt like a completely different person and not in a good way and he said that most TBI survivors have said this.

Honestly the best way I can describe it is that. Hmm. Imagine... your TV is too loud. When I say too loud I mean like. It hurts to be in the same room as the TV, it's bordering on the edge of so loud that it makes you physically take a step back. When the TBI first happened, that was any and every stimulus to my senses. My clothes touching my skin was Too Loud. Tasting my food was Too Loud. The ambient light coming from my window was Too Loud. And so on and so forth. Because there was an actual damaged piece of my brain, it was really struggling to parse any more information than "oh, no, ow, make that stop".

I wore blacked out glasses inside because I couldn't stand to keep my eyes open otherwise. I would ask my roommates to whisper several rooms down if they were going to talk to each other or on the phone because even just hearing their footsteps was like someone was taking a hammer to my forehead. I was usually naked because the feel of my shirt against my back would set me off. There's a lot I can't remember from that time but I remember being so frustrated as I hid under my covers from the light and the ambient noise of living with a bunch of people and their pets that "trying harder" and "pushing through" honestly just made everything worse.

It's a lot better now. It'll be 5 years in July. But every once in a while something will still set me off and I will be back in that place, frustrated with myself as I feel my brain hurtling towards a Very Loud Meltdown that I cannot get to stop.

I just don't appreciate being told that it's somehow lesser because my legs work. Especially considering TBIs are so common, and they happen so fast. All it takes is one good knock on the head and then you'll be just like me.

[renaiswriting]

Shadows of Desire (part 7)

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan/Reader

Summary:

You always thought the only romance you would experiment with in your life was the one between pages under the flames at midnight. That was until you found him, because the feel of his fangs digging into your neck was more than addictive.

Warnings: mentions of physical violence (bruises, scratches, etc), but nothing more than that.

Word count: 4.6k

If you want to be tagged, please fill out the tag list form.

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The desire series' masterlist

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Days and nights have come and gone without a single clue about Jeonghan's whereabouts.

 

You tried not to think too much about it, but your worry grew as another day passed without hearing from him.

 

You weren't leaving your house either. You were way too scared of having another encounter with that big and strong dude from the library.

Your brother wasn't really weirded out by it since it was common for you to spend months inside the four walls of your room.

 

Especially in winter.

 

You haven't mentioned anything of what happened at the library to him. You were scared that something might happen to him if he found out.

 

Luke was known for not thinking twice before going to defend you from other people, and that man was strong. Way stronger than Luke.

 

And he could get hurt.

Somehow you have managed to convince your brother to let Jiji sleep inside the house; you couldn't trust the darkness of the night to protect Jiji.

That man was insane.

 

Sometimes, when Luke left the house to drink with Mark, you went so far as to cover the windows in your room with your blankets.

You felt like there was a constant pair of eyes looking straight at your every move.

The book that Jeonghan never took back was untouched on the nightstand next to your bed. For some reason, you couldn't bring yourself to read it.

It's almost like if you didn't move it from where Jeonghan left it, Jeonghan would be alright.

You were more jumpy than usual around the house. Every time something dropped or made a big sound, you felt your heart fighting against your chest.

Luke did comment on this. But it was only to ask if there was a spider or if you were falling asleep while preparing tea.

"You look fabulous as always." Mark's voice had you almost dropping the cup of tea you were about to drink. Mark had been in your house for the past hour and a half, but you were not expecting him to be lying against the doorframe of your bedroom. "Did I scare you that much?" Mark asked with a teasing smile.

 

You rolled your eyes, cleaning the tea off the floor. Some of it had fallen on your pajama pants.

 

Damn it.

 

"Can I help you with something?"

 

Mark moved forward, entering the room. He sat on your bed, looking at you, kneeling on the floor. "Luke is taking a bath, so I thought you might be the perfect entrainment for me while he's busy."

 

"While I would love being your personal clown, I was looking forward to taking a nap."

 

Mark chuckled, his eyes inspecting the mess in your room. "I bet, but it seems like some fresh air could be helpful, don't you think?"

You remain silent, enjoying another sip of the hot tea.

"When was the last time you opened your window?"

"What are you implying?" You asked, annoyed. As far as you remembered, it has been almost two weeks. The thought of having the window open for anyone to come in was terrifying.

"You're acting weird." He shrugged, the smile on his face disappearing. "Are you doing alright?"

"What do you mean? I'm perfectly fine."

"You don't fool me. Your room is a mess; you haven't made your bed; you're still wearing your pajamas; and, don't take this the wrong way, but this room needs a good hour or two of fresh air."

"Luke hasn't said anything; I don't know if he noticed anything. God knows the mess he's got himself into right now with that Bae girl, but... What I'm saying is that I know something is going on. And if you haven't told Luke yet, please do so. Or tell me. I won't tell a soul about it if you want."

"Everything is fine." You ended the conversation, making Mark sigh. The annoyance was obvious on his face.

"Alright, if you say so. Now, out on some clothes... outside clothes." He demanded it, walking to the door.

"Why would I?" You replied, crossing your arms above your chest.

"Because I'm going to the market to buy some dinner for tonight, and you're coming with me." He didn't even bother to turn around.

"And who says I'm going to go with you?" You asked angrily. You didn't want to leave your bed; Jiji was already half asleep, waiting for you to cuddle.

"And don't forget to open that window!" He yelled back instead.

Your nose tickled with the fresh air your lungs hadn't received in days.

 

"What are we eating tonight?" You asked, and you were trying really hard to maintain your angry face, but your eyes were constantly looking over your shoulder.

 

"Meat. What else do you want to have?"

 

You shrugged.

 

"Why don't you take a deep breath and let your body absorb all of this air?"

 

"Shut up!"

 

Mark chuckled, his eyes glancing at your figure for a second.

You were always quite curious of what you could possible find in the store. The family that owned it was constantly doing trades and traveling to the different places that were hidden on the other side of the big blue oceans, and more times than not, you found yourself spending hours trying to understand what the different things were and how they worked rather than finding what you were actually going to buy.

 

So, while Mark was busy choosing the meat he had come there to buy, you excused yourself as you walked to the big pile of new items.

 

There was lots of golden stuff, and seeing the price of it, you weren't surprised that it was actually made of gold.

There was a lot of jewelry with precious stones. Jewelry that you knew you couldn't save the money to buy in three lifetimes but that you couldn't take your eyes off.

 

There were many music boxes and others that were locked because they had more treasures inside.

 

On top of the wooden counter, there was a beautiful display of strange items that looked very much like the teeth of a shark. They were like large golden fangs. Some were silver.

 

Leaving the most expensive part, you were greeted by items that were much more accessible to the rest of the population.

 

There were many plants with strange flowers that were brightly colored and full of thorns.

 

There were some landscape paintings that looked like something out of your favorite books.

 

But your favorite was a small glass vase filled with pink sand.

 

"Just brought from the north." The man behind the counter commented to you, noticing how your eyes wouldn't leave the product. "It's perfect for a pretty young lady like you; the people who sold it to me told me it has protective properties against malevolent spirits."

"Evil spirits? But it's not even October yet." The confusion in your voice was probably more evident than your skepticism. Anyway, you took a few more steps to stand in front of the arena, watching it carefully.

 

"No, my dear, unfortunately, there are evil spirits roaming the land every day of the year; it's just that in October they are more present." The man explained that he was watching your every move with special attention. "I can see that you have evil spirits watching you. Between us, I don't usually do this, but I'll give you a discount. Half price for you; I'm afraid if you don't buy it that evil spirit will catch up with you."

 

You frowned, feeling your legs start to shake as your suddenly cold fingers reached for the sand. "What— What do you mean, sir?"

"There's a shadow following you; don't you see it?" The man started whispering, leaning closer to your body as his eyes grew darker. "Don't you feel it with every inch of your body? The icy touch of what's on the other side of the living." His hand was ghosting the side of your face, gaining ghostbumps from you. "It's there every single day, behind your every move."

"Is that shadow story necessary for every product you buy? It's nice to know someone else has a shadow following them; I guess mine's still there since it never revealed itself." Mark's voice brought you back from the weird place that the man's voice was putting you with his hypnotizing voice. The dizziness in your mind is still somehow there, but not as strong as before.

Mark's hold moved you back several steps from where you had been standing; you were way closer to the man that you remembered, and that made you feel confused.

"What were you doing in here?" Mark asked you; his eyes were still on the man.

"I already bought everything I needed; let's go home. I'll see you around." He said this to the man, his voice sounding mad and deep. You have seen Mark annoyed before, but never angry, and this was definitely his intimidating voice.

 

Mark guided you towards the door, stopping for a minute to pick up the meat he had bought.

 

"What were you thinking going alone there?" He was annoyed. The meat he was holding in one hand wasn't struggling to carry five kilograms of it.

 

"I was just looking around; I get nauseous with all that smell of dead animals, meat, and blood." You commented making a face. You could feel the breakfast making its way back to the exterior just by thinking about it. "I like eating it when it's fully cooked and smelling nice, not there."

"You should never wander around in a store like that, especially not alone. It's dangerous; Luke would have killed me if something happened there. That man is not to be trusted; he can do weird things just to get a sale."

 

"Never there alone. You understand me?" Mark stopped walking, grabbed your wrist, and made you look into his eyes. "(Y/n), answer me. You understand what I'm saying?"

 

"Yeah, okay, I get it; now let me go!" You're fighting to get out of his hold. His hand was grabbing yours with much more strength than you could handle, and when his hand finally let go of yours, there were red marks all over it.

The rest of the wall was silent, but your mind was overworking, filling the silence of the exterior with inner dialogues and discussions.

 

"You know what that man said?" You started when your thoughts were becoming way too much for you to handle, and you knew they weren't going to shut up unless you let them out.

 

"What does the shadow think?" Mark chuckled, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, that's their store's specialty."

 

You looked at him, expecting him to continue his story.

 

"They survive on their sales, right? The only thing their store has to offer are these strange things with interesting stories. The first time I went there I was thirteen and I spend two minutes more than necessary reading the title of a book that apparently was from Thailand. They told me there was a shadow trying to kill me and that if I didn't buy the book, I would die in the next week. I never bought the book because my parents didn't have the money for it because it was obviously expensive, and watch me here still living. I'm pretty sure they also told Luke his shadow was around the corner trying to harm his family; they always make up stories like this. Don't think about it too much."

 

You nodded, still deep in your thoughts.

 

"But he made it seem so..."

 

"Real?" He guessed. "Yeah, they do that. I wouldn't be surprised if they have these well-detailed stories for every single one of them." When he saw that you were still frowning, he added "And who knows? Maybe your shadow is out there making mini shadows with mine."

 

"Yah!" You pushed him away, laughing at how Mark almost dropped the meat.

"Just don't think too much about it; he probably told the person before you the same story and will tell it again to the next poor soul that goes there."

 

You thought Mark and Luke would go to drink once the dinner was finished, but you found Mark whispering to Luke something that sounded more like nagging than anything else.

 

You could only make out some words out of it, but "I think you should stay with her tonight" was as clear as the water.

 

You didn't want Luke to start spending his nights at home if that wasn't something he wanted to do; you could clearly see his annoyance at Mark's insistence on staying at home that night and couldn't erase the guilty feeling.

 

But you knew that night that you would be sleeping better knowing that he was there. And that nobody was harming him or his half-drunk self.

The house was back to its silent usual self as it was peach dark outside, and, as the midnight hours passed, Luke and Jiji were embracing their night sleep.

 

Jiji was sleeping peacefully at the end of your bed, warming your feet under the blankets. The dog sighed as it moved to the other side.

 

Some frogs were making noise near your window, and you wondered if the next morning you would wake up with one of them staring right into your soul.

 

You were reading another book that you bought from the library the last time you went, and you were really focused on the story.

 

So the first rock impacting against your window went pretty much inadvertently.

 

The second one, you took it as a bug bumping against the window.

 

The third one you thought was on your head

Have I imagined that sound?

 

But to the fourth one, not only you but Jiji as well jumped in the bed.

 

Feeling your heart beating against your chest as fast as if you had just finished running a marathon, you brought your shaking body to the window.

 

It was dark outside, so it was hard to see who was out there, even when the light from your bedroom was illuminating everything outside.

 

You could see where the other body was moving, as it always threw another rock at you, but you had no clue who the other person was.

 

"Who's there?" Your voice wavered, throwing every opportunity to sound as intimidating as you wished out of the window.

 

"(Y/n)"—you heard a voice whispering loudly but not quiet enough to wake anybody up.

 

You hear your heart beating faster, recognizing that voice. "Jeonghan? Is that you?"

"Can I come in?" He whispered, his voice sounding more relieved.

 

"My brother is sleeping; wait for me; I'll go outside."

 

"No." Jeonghan cut you off. "It'll be better to talk inside."

 

You should walk extremely carefully, but the probabilities of Luke hearing you both from your room were pretty low after all he drank at dinner.

 

Food comas were always your best friend in these situations.

 

"Alright, I'll go to unlock the door."

 

"There's no need; move away from the window; I'll be there in a second."

 

You did as you were told, even though you were concerned about how he was going to reach your window without falling and getting hurt. And two, without waking your brother up.

 

The humidity of the night probably made the walls even more difficult to scale.

 

And even with all of these obstacles, in what seemed like a second, Jeonghan was opening your window more to fit his body into the warmth of your room.

 

He finally stood there. In front of you. Without moving.

 

You felt a wave of relief to see him there, alive, after all those days of not knowing anything about his whereabouts or his situation.

 

You weren't going to tell it to him, but you were even starting to get scared that someone had even killed him for how silent he had been.

 

"Jeonghan." You breathed out, closing the space in between both of you to wrap your arms around his torso. Even under such a big jacket, he was still feeling icy cold.

 

Jeonghan returned the hug after a beat, resting his chin on the top of your head.

 

"Don't tell me you missed me that much." He teased, but when you tried to break the hug and move back, he held you in place, not wanting to let you go yet.

The relief and happiness from seeing him quickly transformed into a ball of angriness. Punching him softly on his chest, you broke free from the hug. "I thought you were—where have you been? I know I was scared about what could happen with that friend of yours, but one sign that you were alright would have been nice, you know?"

 

As you raised your eyes from his chest to his face, your heart dropped to your stomach.

 

His face, which was as pretty as a doll's face, was covered in bruises and scratches. His lip was swallowed, and the left corner was transforming from red to a nasty purple, almost green.

 

"Jeonghan—" you gasped, touching near one of the bruises. Jeonghan hissed at the touch, moving his face away from your fingers.

"What—who did this?" A new wave of range inunded your senses, you were seeing red. Who could do something like this to him?

 

As you tried to touch his face again, Jeonghan interluded his fingers with yours, taking the back of your hand to his lips and kissing it slowly. It was more like a ghostly touch than an actual kiss, as his lips were not in good condition to touch anything yet.

 

"It's okay. Don't worry about it." He whispered above the back of your hand, looking into your eyes, trying to reassure you with a faint smile.

 

"Does it hurts? I think we have some ice in—"

 

"I can't really feel it, but I didn't come here to talk about it. I wanted to check up on you." He said. His voice was soft, as if he was trying to put you to sleep. He sat on your bed, making some room for you to sit next to him.

 

It was obvious that he wanted to drop the topic, but you still needed to know what happened.

"Jeonghan, what happened? Did that guy..."

 

Jeonghan turned his face towards the window, avoiding your eyes. "We were arguing and it get bad. But I'm fine now; it doesn't really hurt that much anymore."

 

"I hope you left him worse than this." You tried to lift the mood, noticing that if you kept indiguing, you would probably make him sad.

 

"I tried my best." Jeonghan chuckled, cringing at the pain. You frowned, your eyes rushing to wander over his body.

 

His knuckles were turning white as he held the pillow behind him. His eyes were shut in two fine lines for a split second. The pain dissipated as soon as it arrived.

"Where?" You asked. Your eyes were deeply inspecting his face. "Where else?" He wasn't saying a word, so you had no choice but to start guessing. "Your legs?" He didn't say anything. "Your arms?" You frowned, and your questions were met with silence. "Your chest?" His eyes shifted to the other side of the room.

 

"Let's just stop please. Seungcheol has already apologized. Kind of. I don't wanna talk about it. Can we just talk about something else? Please?"

 

"Seungcheol?"

 

He sighed. "He's the guy from the library. The one you met."

"Oh."

"See? I didn't want to talk about him; I know you would get upset." He sighed, shaking his head. Some of his blonde hair falls on his eyes.

 

"Where have you been, then? I've been waiting for any sign for the last couple of days." You tried to change the topic, but this one didn't seem to have the effect you were expecting.

 

"I've been in our house. The one I've got with them." He added. "I needed some time to calm down the storm. He wasn't that happy with the way I ignored his warnings. The rest didn't really know what to do. I don't think they are that upset or mad about it. Probably, but..." Jeonghan sighed once again. His eyes were missing the usual sparkle you have seen so many times. His voice tried to be stable, but it was obvious the final wave was on it as he cleared his throat. "Guess you need a better guardian dog." He chuckled.

 

As if it were a rehearsal, Jiji raised its head. The dog has been doing anything but sleeping since she saw Jeonghan in your room.

Jiji lazily waved its tail when Jeonghan scratched behind its ears.

 

"The poor thing hasn't been sleeping well ever since I let her come into my room at night. She tries to sleep, but I move way too much."

"I have to say, your room is even cozier than I remember." You mentally thanked him for avoiding mentioning the mess in there. You kicked your dirty clothes under your bed when Jeonghan's eyes glanced at them. The teasing smile never left his face; it grew stronger when he saw the redness of your face.

"Oh, what's that?"

 

His eyes were on the small burn in your inner arm. The fabric of your shirt accidentally touched it for a split second, and without your consent, a profanity escaped your mouth.

Jeonghan's eyes were wide open, his laugh filled the quietness of the night. He was amused by your reaction.

 

"I'm pretty sure this is the first time I've ever heard something like that escape your soul."

 

Pocking your tongue out of your mouth, you checked the sensitive area of the burn. "It happened while I was baking some bread yesterday."

 

"You bake?" He was surprised.

 

"It's just bread; why are you acting like I told you I knew how to bake wedding cakes?" You chuckled. "It's cheaper to bake it myself rather than buy it from the bakery. And my brother loves bread too."

 

"I haven't had homemade bread in a while."

 

"If you want to eat some, you don't have to tell me a sad story, you know?" You teased him, pushing him away. "Wait here, I'll bring you some."

You checked on your brother before returning to your room with the bread for Jeonghan; he was snoring peacefully, and you found yourself taking some of the stress and worry off your shoulders.

 

Jeonghan was in the same position you have left him. The light from the candle you had next to your bedroom painted his face with warm colors. His blonde hair was glowing as if it were made of gold.

The sight was breath-taking. It was like looking straight at one of those beautiful statues in the city.

Or life as a fallen angel.

 

His eyes parted as he called your name again, this time with a soft voice reaching your ears and making you stop staring at him.

 

You cleaned your throat, walking until you were right in front of him. "Here you have. I would have given you more, but my brother has eaten almost all of it."

 

Jeonghan took it from your hands without glancing at it. "Thank you; it's delicious."

 

"You haven't even tried it yet."

 

Jeonghan chuckled, placing the bread next to the candle. "I'm not hungry yet, but I'll take it home for later."

 

"Have you eaten yet?"

 

Jeonghan nodded. "I had something on my way here; don't you worry. I just wanted to make sure you were alright. Seungcheol-- he... He can be...

 

"Dangerous?" You interrupted him.

 

Jeonghan looked at you with soft eyes, his hand reaching for your shoulder to calm your worries. "He's not dangerous. Scary? Absolutely, but he's not dangerous. He's not the one you should be wary of."

 

"Then who?" You asked desperately. "Ever since I met him, I have been feeling terrified to even open my windows. So, if he's not half as bad as the other person you're talking about, then I don't even want to know them."

 

Jeonghan was looking into your eyes, but he was deep in his own thoughts.

"(y/n) I don't think it will be a good idea to say his name. If you know who they are, you could be in serious danger."

"Why?"

"There's something I haven't told you, and that's the reason why they don't want me involved with you. I am—we are dangerous."

"Dangerous? What are you, like a murdered person or something?" You tried to laugh, but the laugh never got out of your mouth.

"Some of us are okay, we know what we are doing and we can have control over what we do. But some don't, and they are a serious danger to people. I've made a promise to not reveal what we are; if I do, then they kill me."

"Who's they? What do you do?"

"I can't tell you. I won't put your own life in danger if I tell you, but mine as well. And I won't be able to look out for you if I'm not here anymore."

"They suspect that you know what we are and what we do, even though I have told them that you don't. They're keeping an eye on you. I've been wandering around every night to make sure they don't do anything. Or try to do anything."

"Do I know them?" You asked getting worried. "What if I let them come inside my house and then they..."

Jeonghan shook his head. "He won't be able to come inside unless you invite them. This is how this works."

"What work?"

"Me, us. It's what we are and what we promised. Unless you tell them explicitly that they can come inside, they can't."

"I'm sorry i cannot provide you with more information, on me and what's going on. And I understand if you want us to stop talking. I promise nothing bad will happen if you decide to stop whatever this is. I won't stop looking out for you, even then. But I'll need you to tell me what you want to do. I need to know what you think to know how to proceed."

"I need to process all of this. Jeonghan, I like to have you around, but am I putting my life at risk? What do you do? Do you go around harming people? Are you going to harm me? I don't..."

 

"I will never hurt you."

 

"Then what do you do?"

 

Jeonghan sighed, frustrated. "I can't tell you without them knowing. Just please think about it. You're a smart woman; you'll figure it out if you want it. I don't think you should, though. Honestly, the more blind you are, the safer you are. It's up to you."

 

Jeonghan cupped your face one last time, closing his eyes as he rested his forehead against yours. His touch was slightly warmer than before, but it was still cold.

As he moved away from you, he kissed your forehead once.

It reminded you of how your father used to kiss you goodbye every night whenever you had a nightmare, and the sudden feeling of being way too small for everything started kicking in.

 

"I'll let you think about it. But, try to relax, alright? I'll make sure that nothing happens to you. I know I might be asking for too much, but please trust me."

 

As he disappeared to the outside through the window, you felt alone.

 

Even with Jiji at the end of your bed sleeping and with your brother some rooms away from you.

 

You felt alone.

[ghosttalksalot]

after some time of patrolling, peter and wade are close. they've had their fair share of heart-to-hearts, and peter thinks wade knows him damn well by now.

after a particularly rough fight (some bad guys who didn't mind things getting ugly), and peter waiting with wade for a couple of hours as his legs go from gone to gross to almost-close-to-normal, peter thinks that wade has been pretty vulnerable with him too. he decides he may as well return the favor and do something for wade.

"look... i'm not too far from here, if you'd rather sleep the rest of this off." peter can feel the excitement radiating off wade as soon as he realizes what's being said.

"baby boy, i would love nothing more than to see your little spider-man-den!"

peter has half a mind to regret it, or even take it back, but he pushes through. after all, if deadpool of all people wanted to violate his privacy, he'd be able to find and know more than anyone needed to- far beyond just face, name, and home.

"promise not to peek? just for the first time." peter does regret that choice of words, though, and he realizes his slip-up just before he hears wade's delighted quip in return.

"baby boy, it's our first time, i'll do whatever you want!" a slightly super-strength-backed punch to the arm did not slow him down. "i will follow all your rules and make sure this is safe, half-sane, and consensual, every time!"

"alright, alright," peter sighed and kept the smile out of his voice. he shot a bit of webbing over the eyes of wade's mask. "no peeking, don't try to look until i say so. i mean it, wilson."

wade mimed zipping each of his eyes shut and throwing away the zippers. peter rolled his (unzipped) eyes, but smiled under his mask. he let deadpool grab onto his back and made sure he had a good grip.

"please stay seated and keep your seatbelts on, we are taking off." before deadpool could respond, spider-man was up, up, and away. webbing his way back home.

as he ignored wade's usual wooping and occasional screams of terror, his mind was at war. half was telling him badidea, badidea, badidea and the other half was telling him it'll be fine, he can trust wade, this is an excellent opportunity to get closer and maybe even get his chance. while he supposed he agreed mostly with the latter half, he needed to beat down that very last part with the nearest large stick.

deadpool does not actually want spider-man, even though peter might want that to be the case. the flirting was a part of his brand, and did not mean anything. and peter knew, even if deadpool did want spider-man, there's no way he'd want the plain and unimpressive man under the mask.

peter shook his head to clear his thoughts as he webbed his own building.

"ladies and gentlemen, please stay in your seats as we begin our descent." with that last notice, peter swung effortlessly down onto the wall next to his window, before opening it deftly and dropping in. he landed well on his feet, it was practically graceful after years of practice.

deadpool dropped off his back and landed on the ground with a thud and an "oof". decidedly less graceful.

now that wade actually was in his apartment, peter felt his nerves humming slightly. he quickly tidied up his few belongings and put all identifying objects (pictures of him, his degree, some mail etc.) into a drawer that he closed with a bit of webbing on the inside.

"alright, are you ready?" peter slipped his fingers under the edge of the webbing on deadpool's mask. he'd tried to keep the nerves out of his voice, but deadpool frowned noticeably under the mask and grabbed peter's wrist without force.

"baby boy... are you sure?" now it was peter's turn to frown. "'cuz you really don't... sound sure."

"what are you talking about? i brought you all the way back here, right into my apartment, why wouldn't i be sure? i could've just not, but i did, and you want this, and-"

"webs. you know i want to get to know you, and see your spider-home, but not if you don't want it. you're going on about not being nervous, but it's just sending me further towards the opposite impression." peter frowned more at that, and tried to ignore his fluttering heart at the considerate words. "you can take me right back to where we were and i won't bring it up again. i only want to do what you're comfortable with."

"look, d- wade. i do trust you, it's just a new thing. i'm nervous, but i do trust you and i want to show you that." deadpool's noticeable frown faded slightly, but he still seemed unsure.

"only if you're positive. this is a lot, and very personal, and i know you're very identity-careful." peter couldn't ignore his fluttering heart now, but he could ignore the voice telling him to change his mind, now muffled by the beating in his chest.

"here we go." peter tightened his grip on the very edge of the webbing and tore it off the mask, while trying to be careful not to tear the mask itself. wade noticeably lit up as he looked around the small apartment.

"ohhhh... i'm in your spider-man-pad!!" deadpool bounced in place a bit as he spoke. peter kept his eyes on wade as the larger man spun around and took in the... rather unimpressive apartment. then it was wade's torn to watch as peter took out a measly blanket and thin pillow. peter felt his face redden.

"sorry, i'm.... not exactly rolling in dough at the moment." he tossed wade the blanket and pillow and wade seemed for a moment as though he was planning to collapse on the couch as he usually did on benches, but had the bright idea that this couch might not take it well. he plopped down as carefully as deadpool was capable of.

"webs, you could live in a dumpster and i'd happily chill on a rat carcass pillow under a newspaper-covered-in-spoilt-milk blanket." peter pulled a face at that.

"that is disgusting." wade only cackled in response. peter opened his fridge and immediately closed it at the reminder that he hadn't bought food for a while. he was getting caught up on rent, and wade happily bought them food every night since it meant he got to pick the restaurant. peter didn't really have the funds to get sick of having mexican food over and over.

he settled to just plop down on his own bed, noticing wade's eyes were clearly on him, and he had not talked for a while, which was unusual.

"can i help you?"

"thanks for trusting me, spidey." wade spoke softly, his tone serious. although they'd exchanged serious words tonight already, the sincerity caught peter off guard this time.

"i mean... why wouldn't i? just... you know, don't go poking around."

"cross my heart!" wade was quickly back to usual wade, speaking in a delighted tone and miming a big X over his heart.

peter snickered and rolled over in his bed, facing the wall. he fell asleep quickly, feeling oddly safe knowing that wade was there.

...

peter woke up to a loud scratching sound, like a heavy object being dragged, a sound that was grinding on his enhanced hearing like nails on a chalkboard. he quickly lept out of bed and scaled the wall to the ceiling, ready to fight whatever made that noise. blinking the last bits of sleep from his eyes, he scanned the room and landed on a slightly sheepish wade and...

"wade. what is that?"

"webs, have you never seen a futon before? this is some of the finest furniture known to ma-"

"i know its a couch, wade. why is it here?"

"can't a man express gratitude for shelter and a place to sleep while he finishes growing back his legs?" wade put his hand over his heart and feigned heartbreak. peter sighed and stood, still on the ceiling, and walked over.

"did you... steal this?" wade gasped in false shock.

"spider-dash-man!" he spoke incredulously, as though peter truly had no reason to suggest that. "i cannot believe you could ever accuse little ol' me of such a thing!" peter eyed him suspiciously. deadpool isn't exactly known for his law following.

"then can you... return it to where you definitely-didnt-steal-it from? because i... i really can't accept this, wade"

"spidey. my web-slinging, crime-fighting, perfect-ass-equipped friend. that right there is the very best part! i thought of everything" wade tossed him a crumpled piece of paper and held up a fairly large bag that had been sitting on the futon. "it even comes with a comforter!"

peter uncrumpled the paper and scanned it. it was a receipt for the exact couch. at the very bottom, circled three times in red pen, were the words 'NO RETURNS, EXCHANGES, OR REFUNDS.' peter felt his heart swell as he looked between a smug deadpool and the receipt. he looked at the couch, which, if he was being honest with himself? looked nicer than his own bed.

wade had actually bought this for him, he knew peter needed it and wouldn't want something stolen. he did this out of consideration and the kindness of his heart, and peter just hadn't been taken care of like this in a very, very long time.

peter's heart moved his body before his mind started up again, and he felt his legs carry him across the ceiling to where wade was standing. he cupped wade's face in his hands and put his fingers under the red and black mask. the slight awkwardness of the angle brought his brain online. he backed up with a start.

"fuck, wade, i.... thank you. i wanted to thank you. i'm sorry, i didn't mean to... shit. thank you for the futon, i'm sorry i... oh goddamnit." wade just stared at him with the mask showing his wide eyes, and it seemed his mouth hung open. peter covered his face with his hands.

"baby boy, i... i feel like i just blew my own brains out and i'm still hallucinatin' while the right lobes grow back in the right places, did you just...?" peter backed up another step and hit the wall behind him.

"yeah, i'm sorry, fuck i... i just- i wanted to..." now he really felt like he could cry. he couldn't have ruined things worse than he just had, and he was cursing far more than he usually did. "i shouldn't have assumed you wanted... that you... shit. i shouldn't have assumed the pet names meant something, or that you wanted to... goddamnit. fuck. look, i'll just go, and you can head out when you're ready, and i will give you space for as long as you nee-"

"web! webs. just... stop thinking for a minute." wade stepped towards him hesitantly. peter felt his heart catch in his throat.

wade slipped his fingers under the bottom of the spider-man mask, and peter grasped his wrists gently.

"are you sure?" peter whispered.

"say the word, and i'll stop."

wade slowly slipped the mask up until it hit the base of peter's nose, then moved peter's hands to the bottom of his own, so peter could slide wade's own mask up just the same. he pressed his lips to peter's, gently at first, then paused to look at peter.

peter pushed his mask all the way off. deadpool stared at him wide eyed, like he was in awe of peter, who considered himself rather average other than a dusting of freckles. peter felt his blush deepen as he was stared at.

"it's peter. my name ispeter parker."

"you're... you're mighty pretty, peter."

peter wrapped one arm around wade's head and pulled him back to being close, kissing him harder than before. wade happily complied with that, following peter's nervous lead. peter pushed up gently, not insistently at wade's own mask. wade pulled back.

"sorry- was that too much?" peter asked, suddenly nervous he'd ruined things again.

"no, you did nothing wrong, but... i don't think you want to do that, webs. i'm far less pretty. in fact, i look more like gravel and an orange peel shat out an ugly love child." wade half-smiled, trying to joke. peter just frowned.

"no, no... not to me..." peter pushed at wade's mask again, and was met with no resistance, but a more than hesitant look.

peter smiled warmly as he saw wade's whole face, scars and all.

"i think you've got a plenty nice face..." wade searched peter's face for a moment, before diving back in to pepper about fifty kisses all over peter's giggling face.

"i don't deserve this, peter, you're just perfect. you're too perfect."

"i think you deserve it completely." it was peter's turn to dive in for another kiss, this time much deeper. he held wade's head close, and wade's fingers tangled in his messy hair. peter relished in the taste and smell of wade fucking wilson.

wade pulled back after a while, giving them both a few moments to breathe their own air.

"if i had known all i had to do for all this was buy a futon.. i would have done that ages ago." peter snickered and rested his head back against the wall. "do i need to buy more furniture to get another one of those? or is that not just a 'thank you'?"

"just... stop thinking for a minute, wade." wade grinned brightly and peter kissed the corner of his mouth.

"i'm still not positive i'm awake, webs. mind helping?"

"i'd bite you, but i think it'd be a little much with the fangs." peter was joking about the biting, but wade shuddered.

"oh, i'm alive, awake, AND alert now." wade grinned even bigger, if it was possible. "sure you can't bite me anyway?"

"i don't know..." peter tapped his chin and pretended to think about it. "might need more furniture for that one"

"baby boy, i'll buy you a furnished mansion for that." peter laughed and kissed him again.

"the furniture is far from the best part of this deal," peter mumbled against wade's scarred lips.

"oh? do tell, what is the best part?"

"help me off this wall and i'll show you."

deadpool was suddenly an excellent listener.

[fin.]