#fuck then one of them tries to kill the other

[hanniesluvr]

drunk in love | yjh

NSFW | MDNI!!

genre: friends -> fwb -> lovers, angst, smut, fluff

pairing: yoon jeonghan x fem!reader

WC: 6.7k

cw: drinking, angry jeonghan bc i said so, smut, exhibitionism pretty much, spanking, degradation (he calls you a "slut" and "whore" a couple times :3), unprotected sex, creampie, choking, cucking (poor josh but also he had it coming), pet names ("pretty girl", "baby", and "princess"), oral (f rec), little bit of butt stuff, mc has a LOT of internal thoughts/ dialog lol, possessive jeonghan, possessive jeonghan, and possessive jeonghan. lmk if i missed anything !!

synopsis: when a game of truth, dare, or drink with the boys turns to shit (thanks to hoshi and josh), jeonghan has no choice but to prove himself to be the best dick you've ever had ): (SPOILER: he is. oh he most definitely IS the best dick you've ever had)

! nsfw content below the cut. mdni !

you’ve known the boys for years.

you’d met mingyu back in your senior year of highschool. both of you being on the friendly, outgoing side of introversion, he knew he had to introduce you to his rather large group of friends once you guys graduated.

and wow was your life was never the same.

you had a group of down to earth boys (men) who all looked after you like no one else had. a friend group that people could only ever dream of. no one got upset if you chose to hang out with only one of them for a day, rather than the whole group. if you wanted to go out clubbing with your girlfriends, they all knew you had 13 body guard options to call before heading out. and the best part, your best friend of the group might as well be a professional chef. you never had to worry about going hungry or even cooking as long as you had mingyu around.

other than mingyu, you ended up gravitating toward minghao, jihoon, seungcheol, and jeonghan. almost entirely separate, but sometimes you, seungcheol, and jeonghan would go out on a weeknight for some 2am ihop.

the last thing you or anyone else had expected however, was for you and jeonghan to develop a “situationship” of sorts together.

over the last couple months, you both started developing what you thought were strictly sexual feelings toward each other. now, you weren’t so sure. you knew your feelings were turning into something far deeper than just lust, but you quickly tried to shut them down in fear of ruining your initial friendship with him. tried to. you also were terrified to face those feelings because… you had no idea how he felt. other than the occasional secret or rant that he needed to share with you that he couldn’t share with the boys, jeonghan was pretty emotionally reserved. you had NO idea how he actually felt about you beyond friendly and horny.

until that night.

-

truth, dare, or drink was a game that you played with the boys every once in awhile when you guys were feeling frisky. normally, it came to one of your brains once you guys had already been drinking through the night.

in tonight’s game, jeonghan thought it’d be funny to dare jihoon to lean over and give you a kiss. childish. so childish. you could tell he just didn’t have any better idea in his buzzed brain.

“awww don’t be a pussy, jihoon!” jeonghan taunted him. he was leaning backward due to you being sandwiched between the two boys at the table, jihoon to your left, jeonghan to your right.

“nah i’m not touching her, hannie. you’re funny” jihoon chuckled, throwing back the clear liquid.

“heyyyy rude!” you pouted, crossing your arms playfully, a smile threatening to pull at your mouth.

“tsss…” jihoon put down the shot glass. “jeonghan would kill me, y/n” he chuckled. then, “ow!” he yelled, still laughing.

you whipped your head to jeonghan who was… glaring at jihoon? he’d smacked him upside the head and you had no idea why. you thought jihoon making that comment was just to poke fun at the fact that everyone knew you and jeonghan were basically fuck buddies. however, jeonghan didn’t find it very funny for whatever reason. you playfully pushed his face telling him to lighten up. to that he faintly smiled before putting his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers together in front of his face. he looked like a cartoon villain. what was he so upset about?

“anyways…” you were the next to talk. “soonyoung! your turn!” you enthused leaning back in your seat to look at the boy to the right of jeonghan.

soonyoung jumped out of his seat before nearly screaming, “Y/N!”

“oh fuck.” jihoon mumbled looking into his lap. you broke eye contact with soonyoung to look at jihoon in confusion.

“i’m so sorry to do this.” you looked back up at soonyoung. what the fuck is going on?

“man i swear, if you don’t keep your mouth shut,” jihoon stood up from his chair.

“what? i have to ask!”

“no, no you don’t.” jihoon’s voice was threateningly low, and you now thought you had a hunch as to what’s about to happen. your heart started to race.

“is it true that you and hoon hooked up at last year’s halloween party?!”

“i’m gonna beat your fucking ass-“

you pushed your chair out blocking jihoon’s path before he could follow through. you shot your arm out for good measure to make sure he didn’t try to pass you. he silently turned around and sat back in his chair.

when you turned back around to face soonyoung, you couldn’t help but feel jeonghan’s eyes burning holes into you along with everyone else’s.

“dude, why?” you asked in a low tone.

“whaaaat the game was getting boring! i had to spice things up a bit,” he teased putting a hand on his hip before pointing his finger in your face over jeonghan’s head. “now answer the question or take a shot missy. either way, we’ll know the answer.”

you glared at him intensely sitting back down in your chair and quietly saying “it’s true,” before reaching for the shot in front of you and slamming it anyways. you needed it. you felt jeonghan’s eyes on the side of your face and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. you just locked eyes with mingyu across the table, knowing that even with his shock, his gaze would comfort you nonetheless. it worked. his face quickly went from a “what the fuck?” expression to a reassuring “we’ll talk about this later” look.

“ahem”

no.

“that’s interesting,” josh said from the head of the table.

“josh!” you, seungcheol and mingyu yelled at the same time. they also knew what joshua had to have been thinking, and didn’t want you to endure more embarrassment.

“ i thought i was your only little secret,” he said in a condescending tone, crossing his arms.

your face was hot. “it happened years ago josh!” you were yelling from your seat. “and we haven’t talked about it since! why are you even bringing it up? who cares!”

SLAM! you flinched. jeonghan had punched the table.

“i fucking do!” he yelled shooting up from his chair. “while we’re here,” his voice dropped, placing his palms on the table, leaning forward glancing at everyone. “would anyone else like to confess to fucking y/n?”

“jeonghan,” you reached your hand up to rest on his arm and you felt his muscles stiffen.

“it’s not like that,” jihoon followed up, trying to reassure him. jeonghan wouldn’t look at him. “it was over a year ago. it wasn’t important then, and it’s not important now.”

“it still fucking happened,” he looked over his shoulder down at you. “and you didn’t tell me about it.” his tone was laced with what could only be described as anguish.

“doesn’t seem like she’s told anyone,” josh pettily adds before taking a sip of whatever drink he’d made for himself before the game started.

now you were the one to punch the table but you didn’t stand up. “dammit josh! jihoon and i both agreed we’d pretend like it never happened. it was a mistake. and it happened years after you and i hooked up so why would i tell you out of everyone?! i didn’t even tell mingyu!” you were shaking in your seat. your breath rapid as you were hitting the peak of your anger induced high. shitfaced josh didn’t know when to stop. sober josh would never even slightly push anyone’s buttons the way drunk josh was vigorously punching yours right now (and jeonghan’s).

“well it seems you told mingyu and cheol about us, so what’s the reason for that? was i too good to forget?”

before jeonghan could even start to move toward him you stood up, forcefully holding him back by his shoulder. he froze. “josh…” you started, still keeping your hand on jeonghan to make sure he didn’t try anything. “i told them because i was fucking humiliated, and couldn’t believe that i fucked you.” you spat. “is that what you wanted to hear?” you could’ve sworn in that moment, all of jeonghan’s tension shifted to josh because as jeonghan found his way back into his chair, josh stood up. it didn’t phase you in the slightest.

“you’re fucking lying, y/n. i had to have been the best you ever-”

“fucking watch yourself man,” seungcheol warned, also getting out of his seat to defend you and jeonghan, his best friend.

“oh what? did you fuck her too?”

“that’s it!” jeonghan shot back out of his chair charging toward him.

luckily seungcheol was at the chair right next to josh and managed to get to him before jeonghan, stepping in front of him as some sort of human shield. jeonghan stopped in his tracks, mere inches away from his best friend.

“cheol, move.” he growled.

“walk away jeonghan.” seungcheol tried to calm him down.

“i’m not walking the fuck away. move or i’ll move you myself.”

“hannie, it’s not worth it,” you chimed in, making your way to him. “he [josh] isn’t worth it. what we did isn’t worth it.” joshua scoffed at your comment. you tried to ignore him, knowing that if sober josh was in there somewhere, he was telling his drunk self to just shut the fuck up and go along with all of it. although you really were ashamed of that hookup. you guys were like 19 at the time after all.

“look,” jeonghan turns around to face you. “jihoon? i get it. don’t ask me how or why, but it’s not much of a shock to me. i can suck it up over that.” he pointed his arm out behind him straight at josh, still looking at you. “but him? fucking joshua?” his voice nearly breaking at the end.

“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” josh mumbled.

you and jeonghan ignored him.

“it happened years ago hannie.” it suddenly dawned on you how intense this simple game of truth or dare had turned. as you and jeonghan stared at each other in silence, everyone else waiting for what was gonna happen next, you had a million thoughts running through your mind. why does he care so much ? is it because josh is one of his best friends and he can’t believe josh didn’t tell him? is he… jealous? no. maybe?

it was almost like jeonghan could hear the questions in your head. his face turned into something small and ashamed as he slowly lowered his head looking down at the ground. one last thought was about to run through your head. is he like in lo-

then seungkwan broke the silence, clearing his throat. you both whipped your heads to the other end of the table. everyone else still staring at the two of you. “why don’t we just continue the game. no more stupid bullshit, soonyoung.”

you took a deep breath. “i think i like the sound of that boo,” you held your hand out for jeonghan to take and he did so hesitantly. not until the two of you were fully seated did seungcheol make his way back to his seat. everyone’s eyes moved to josh still standing at the end of table… waiting for him to sit.

“josh?” mingyu spoke up. it was almost like he snapped him out of a trance.

“yeah! yeah let’s keep playing,” he blurted sitting back down.

“alright well i guess it’s my turn then,” seungcheol nervously chuckled. “jun! i dare you to take a shot!”

“what?” jun laughed. collectively the tension in the room withered away as everyone started laughing softly, giving seungcheol confused looks, except for josh. he just sat, straight faced.

“yeah, you’ve barely drank tonight! cmon! either way you have to take a shot soooo…” seokmin added.

“okay okay,” jun smiled while leaning over the table for the bottle.

once he took the shot, everyone carefully looked to joshua who was clearly faking his enthusiasm now. “okay well… i gotta go with y/n!” he said in such a deceptively happy tone, you knew he wasn’t over what had just finally ended for you and literally everyone else at the table.

vernon spoke up for the first time since his last turn probably 15 minutes ago, “please don’t be a dick dude.” he casually took a sip of his drink.

“don’t worry, don’t worryyyy. i just gotta ask her something.”

you watched jeonghan’s face as he stared at his drink in front of him. his jaw was clenched so tight you thought he might shatter his teeth. you put your hand on his thigh under the table to silently tell him you wish josh would shut up just as bad as he did. “why don’t you just leave her alone man?” jeonghan asked calmly not looking away from his glass.

“well i would but there’s just this burning question i have in my head that i can’t shake,” josh was slurring a bit but still thinking about his next words wisely. “y/n,” he was staring into your soul, and you did the same to him, not backing down. “was i not the best you’ve ever had?”

“no,” you immediately answered. “no you weren’t. why do you think i never mentioned it again?” jeonghan smiled to himself looking down in his lap, grabbing your hand that was on his thigh. the gesture was oddly sweet in this bitter situation.

“oh? well then who was the best hm?” josh followed up.

“oh, jeonghan! hands down,” you didn’t even hesitate. his grip on your hand tightened, the grin on his face widening as his eyes stayed locked in his lap. you even heard jihoon softly chuckle behind you.

“bullshit,” josh accused. jeonghan quickly looked up at him, tilting his head ever so slightly. “no way he’s giving it to you better than i did.”

after that comment, everyone collectively started yelling at him to just go to sleep or leave the game, anything to get him to stop his petty remarks. including you. you were still yelling when jeonghan turned to you, cupping your face, “shut the fuck up,” he whispered before grabbing your wrist and forcefully pulling you away from the table. he stopped at the end by josh’s chair.

“fine!” jeonghan exclaimed, silencing everyone. he then leaned in to josh’s ear, “i’ll just let you hear how much better im giving it to her.” and with that jeonghan was dragging you up the stairs at an aggressive pace, not even giving anyone the opportunity to respond.

once you reached the top of the stair case he spun you around in front of him so you were walking backwards. you passed the banister as he started taking off your shirt. your bare chest on display for anyone to see had they looked up from the table down below. you couldn’t care less.

“kiss me,” you whimpered trying not to stumble backward as he’s fondling with the button of your pants. he obeyed, eagerly crashing his lips into yours as you both neared his room. he started turning you to the left and you knew you’d reached your destination. he didn’t push you all the way into his room though.

“if it gets to be too much say ‘stop’,” he breathed before pushing you against his open door and dropping to his knees, immediately pulling your pants down. you stepped out of them without a second thought. is he just gonna fuck me against his open bedroom door?

“fuck!” you gasped out as he dove in after your clothed core. i guess the answer is yes.

“jesus y/n,” he growled moving your underwear to the side. “you’re fucking soaked already,” he continued to lap at your pussy, the annoying fabric now out of the way.

“mmm liked you getting m-mad,” you whispered, not wanting the others to hear your confession. you knew it sounded pathetic.

jeonghan groaned into you in response. you liked him fuming over the thought of someone else fucking you better than he did? if his dick wasn’t pushing to break free from his sweats before, it sure was now.

“fuck, you’re such a slut y/n,” he slurred, now grabbing at your underwear, ripping it on each side down the seams and throwing them right across the hall into josh’s open room.

“hannie what the fuck?” you bemoaned. you’d just bought the lacy fabric the other day for him to admire, not ruin. the fact that he threw them in josh’s room couldn’t be less of a concern to you right now.

he stood up putting his hand around your neck, firmly pressing you against the door. “what?” he asked innocently, taunting you before crashing his lips back into yours. you moaned into the kiss, desperate for him to touch you again.

as if he’d read your mind, he used his free hand to pull down the waistband of his sweats, finally letting his dick breathe. he put his cock in between your legs, basically fucking your thighs. the subtle friction against your clit was enough to send you spiraling. you were over his teasing and torture.

“hannie, please,” you panted.

“please what?” he mocked, still rutting against the heat between your legs.

“please fuck me,” you whined.

it wasn’t good enough for him. “what? i’m sorry baby,” baby? “i don’t think josh can hear you.”

you were suddenly reminded of the circumstances surrounding the current situation you were in. you felt yourself turn beet red.

“remember, you can tell me to stop,” he whispered to you, noticing your complexion.

“no, no don’t stop,” you begged.

he smiled maniacally. “okay. so again, i don’t think josh could hear what you said,” his voice rising in the second half.

“please jeonghan, please fuck me. please!” you cried, knowing damn well that josh and unfortunately, everyone else could hear your desperate words.

“such a good little whore for me aren’t you?” his grip on your neck tightened, his other hand grabbing his cock, lining himself up with your entrance. you lifted your leg to give him easier access.

he pushed past your folds and you winced at the slight stretch, but you fit jeonghan like a glove. ever since the first time you guys had sex it almost felt like you were… made for each other in a way.

“you okay?” he nearly wheezed, trying to hold himself back from going completely animalistic on you in this moment. wanting to claim you as his for everyone to hear… for josh to hear.

fuck josh…

he barely let you nod your head before snapping his hips, thrusting his cock into you so fast you swear you saw stars. the squeal that escaped your throat was something of pure filth and you knew that by this point, josh had to have felt like a fucking idiot for everything he said.

jeonghan moved his hands to your thighs, hoisting you up, your back still flat against his door, his cock buried deep inside you. “i’m going to absolutely ruin you and your pretty little pussy,” he fucked himself deeper into you if that was even possible, “not even gonna be able to walk back down these stairs without my help,” he panted.

“mmmph hannie~” were your last whimpering words before he started brutally fucking himself in and out of your sopping cunt. you were a blubbering mess, whining and crying out like a bitch in heat.

“dammit y/n how are you always this t-tight,” jeonghan groaned before swallowing your sounds in a sloppy, wet kiss. his tongue desperately darted into your mouth to dance with yours and you were more than willing to let it in. your tongues danced together not so elegantly as his dick was thrusting into you with determination, his door thudding against the wall to the rhythm he’d set, and you moaning uncontrollably into his mouth.

you started to wonder what everyone downstairs was doing. especially josh.

“mmm wait wait wait hannie wait,” you put your hands on his shoulders putting enough distance between your bodies just to speak.

“i-i feel bad for everyone downstairs. should we keep doing this?” you whispered, giggling a little as the gravity of the situation really started weighing on you.

“i really don’t give a fuck about everyone downstairs.” he kissed you deeply. “unless it really makes you uncomfortable, then we’ll stop.”

“i’m not really uncomfortable just… feel bad.”

“well don’t. and remember how this all started?”

he was right.

“you’re right,” you threw your arms around his neck, attacking his lips with your own, taking control of the situation.

he let your legs down, now gripping your waist, pulling your naked body closer to him. you spun the two of you around so he was against the door. you pulled away from your kiss to lift his shirt over his head and throw it into his room. you then dropped to your knees, almost mirroring his actions from earlier. you pulled his sweats and underwear down to his ankles and he kicked them off to the side.

“fuck hannie,” you moaned, clenched around nothing as you were eye level with his cock. jeonghan could’ve came just at the sight of you gawking over his dick beneath him.

“y/n as much as i’d love to feel your mouth around me, i need to fuck you properly and i need to do it now,” he cooed cupping your face. he traced his thumb across your lip and you took it into you mouth, sucking on it like a binkie. “fuck, you’re such a fucking slut y/n,” he ripped his hand from your mouth. “on the bed. now.”

you started to stand up but he stopped you, “no, crawl.” you did exactly as you were told and crawled your way to the foot of his bed.

you could predict he’d want you on all fours, but you didn’t want to assume, so you sat on the edge of his bed waiting for further instructions.

“you know how i want you.” he was making his way toward you.

you quickly turned around on your knees and lowered yourself so your face and arms were flat on the bed and your ass was in the air.

when jeonghan got within arms length of your body, without hesitation he slapped your right ass cheek before grabbing it tightly, his left hand doing the same to the other side. you just yelped and balled up the sheets in your fists.

spreading you so wide you thought you might split, he speaks again. “there’s so much more of you that i want to explore, y/n,” he mumbled lining himself up with your aching core once again.

“s-so explore me, jeonghan,” your voice was rather shaky as you waited for his cock to be shoved into you at any moment.

“fuck baby…” baby again? you didn’t have time to process the pet name once again before jeonghan picked up where you guys had left off.

his hands were holding onto your waist for dear life as he railed you into his bed with no mercy.

“f-f-fuck hann-nie!” you cried out, every stutter on beat with his hips. a string of the most lewd whimpers, whines and groans you’ve every let fly from your mouth followed.

“uh huh, that’s r-right. how g-good do i-fuck~ fuck you huh?” he boasted.

something about jeonghan’s feral tendencies to “claim” you had you tightening around him over and over, that familiar knot forming in your tummy.

“g-god hannie i’m c-close!” you warned, gripping the sheets until your knuckles turned white.

he pulled his dick out of you instantly. you started pouting, “noooo hannie why did you-“

you heard a pop from his mouth and couldn’t help but turn your head around as far as you could. “hannie?”

“if you don’t like it, or it’s too much, what do you say?”

“‘stop’… what are you- fuck!”

jeonghan’s thumb was prodding at your other hole, barely being granted access due to it never being messed with. “too much?” he asked as the tip of his thumb slipped in.

the groan that escaped your mouth was all he needed but you tried to respond anyway, “n-no hannie~ fffuck…” your voice trailed off, the new sensation sending your body into a blissfully painful new level of pleasure.

jeonghan lined himself back up, slipping inside of you with ease at this point. the sensation of being able to feel his cock sliding in and out of you through your ass with his thumb was a feeling he didn’t know he needed. he threw his head back, slowly pulling himself out almost entirely before steadily pushing himself back into you, pushing down with his thumb to feel every inch through your gummy walls. “god dammit, y/n. you’re gonna be the death of me,” he snarled before once again picking back up to his animalistic pace from before.

you both were a moaning mess, in your own bubble of euphoria when suddenly, you were rudely interrupted by an annoyingly familiar voice.

“okay you fucking psychopaths, your point has been made. can you shut the fuck up now?!” josh yelled from down below. if you two were being honest, the moment jeonghan had you crawling across the floor to his bed, you’d forgotten all about josh and the others.

“no. you can come close the fucking door!” jeonghan yelled back trying to keep his voice steady when in reality, he could fall apart here and now. fall to his knees and cry at how amazing you were making him feel. you’re the reason he can fuck you so good. you make it impossible not to.

“god you guys are fucking obnoxious…” josh’s voice trailed off at the end of his sentence as he reached jeonghan’s door. he froze in his tracks. his drunken state didn’t really allow him to comprehend that he was going to be walking in on jeonghan absolutely wrecking you. he was just coming up to close the door, but he couldn’t stop staring.

he was snapped out of his daze when jeonghan whipped his head around, making immediate eye contact with him, not slowing down his thrusts in the slightest, completely unfazed.

“the fuck do you want?” he spat. you managed to turn your head to the side to catch a glimpse of the boy in the doorway. your vision blurry from being completely fucked out of your mind. you knew it felt wrong that he was seeing all of this, but your brain was so fuzzy you couldn’t really focus on anything else other than jeonghan.

“i- i was just closing the door,” josh managed to mutter out. as he reached for the doorknob, jeonghan spoke up again.

“no. you wanna watch so bad?” he slowly took his thumb out of you first, then his cock. you subconsciously whimpered at the sudden empty feeling. you knew you should move, knew you should adjust so you weren’t so exposed for josh to see but you couldn’t bring yourself to in your sex drunk (and still literally tipsy) state.

jeonghan, dick still out, made his way over to josh. “then come have a seat,” his tone was bitter as he grabbed him by the shoulder and walked him to his desk chair, nearly throwing him down.

“dude i don’t-“

“i dont want to hear it. you’re the one that stopped to watch so im giving you what you want, yeah?” suddenly jeonghan had dominance over everyone in the room. all josh could do was nod in response.

with the main reason for all of this absurdity now sitting in the room, jeonghan felt it was appropriate to shut the door. he did so forcefully, then made his was back over to you.

your head already being turned to your left where jeonghan’s desk was, you were looking right at josh. you quickly flipped your head the other way, embarrassed by your state. jeonghan took a fistful of your hair and slowly pulled you up so your back was flat against chest.

“i want him to watch me make you fall apart,” he whispered so gently in your ear for no one else to hear. “is that okay pretty girl?” the nickname making your tummy do flips all over again. of course that was okay. sure it would be embarrassing for the first 5 seconds, but josh pissed you off tonight more than anyone. so yes, yes of course he could be put in his place with a front row seat to the show.

“jeonghan yes,” you breathed desperately, clenching around nothing.

“good,” you wish you could see the smile on his face that you could hear when he spoke. “now, when you lay back down, turn your head back toward him so he can watch your face while i claim what’s mine.”

what’s his?

you did as you were told and when jeonghan loosened his grip on your hair, you lowered yourself back down with your face in the sheets facing joshua once again. he looked at you with a stare that was incomprehensible. was it lust? embarrassment? anger? probably all of the above, but you didn’t care. all you cared about was jeonghan filling you back up.

jeonghan started to make a snarky comment to joshua when you interrupted him.

“hannie p-please who fucking cares i need you to fuck me please please please!” you were on the brink of tears. so desperate for him, to feel his cock deep inside you again.

“oh someone’s needy hm? good girl asking so nicely.” his voice something carnal. he took barely two seconds to line himself up with your soaked, swollen, reddened and abused core.

you didn’t think he was holding back before but holy shit were you wrong. his hands were basically imbedded into your waist. his hips snapping with even more determination and vigor than before. it took no more than 20 seconds for him to get that knot forming in your tummy again.

“is this what you wanted, you fucking whore? such a whore for my cock aren’t you.” he growled. “tell me baby, has anyone ever fucked you this good?” he whined out, his own orgasm approaching.

you must’ve taken a millisecond too long to answer him because he harshly smacked your ass making you cry out in pain (in a good way of course). “answer me.”

“yes!” your voice coming out in a mix of whimpers and pure air. “no one c-can f-fuck… fuck me like you do hannie!”

“not even josh over here?”

your eyes had been shut since jeonghan started fucking you again… you forgot josh was in the room. when you opened them you were met with the sight of him shamelessly palming himself through his sweats. “especially not josh,” you managed to spit out rather clearly. it was a somewhat mean statement but the mother fucker was getting off to watching jeonghan literally prove that he can fuck you better than josh ever could’ve, so why not humiliate him a little more?

sure enough, josh groaned out in pleasure. sick.

“that’s fucking right.” jeonghan managed to pull out, flip you onto your back, and start fucking you again so fast you got dizzy. the new angle allowing him to hit a new spot, one that was bringing you closer to the edge, much faster than before.

“mmmmffff h-hannieee~” was all you could manage to get out, but he knew exactly what it meant.

“gonna make a mess all over my cock baby? hm? gonna show josh what a fucking idiot he is?” he whined once again. he moved his hand down and began rubbing circles on your clit, bringing you to your breaking point.

you turned into an illiterate wreck. somewhere laced in your desperate noises were traces of jeonghan’s name. you physically couldn’t bring yourself to unscrew your eyes to look at him. you knew he loved it when you made eye contact whenever you came undone for him, but you just couldn’t. you suddenly felt a soft hand gently grab your neck.

“i fucking love your face, y/n,” he whispered as his hips started to stutter. you managed to open your eyes to look at him right before he started to come undone himself, you still coming down from your own state of euphoria. when your eyes locked, he immediately crashed his lips into yours, his hand on your neck tightening as his hips thrusted into you one last time. you couldn’t help but clench around him when you felt his warm seed fill you up. his mouth fell open letting out a feral noise as you two lay forehead to forehead, jeonghan slowly moving himself in and out of you letting you milk his cock for all it’s worth. his hand that was around your neck moved up to cup your face instead, wiping your tears that you didn’t even realize had fallen from your eyes during all of… that.

“josh?” jeonghan’s voice was low, and he never broke eye contact with you. “get out.”

you heard josh shuffle out of the room shutting the door behind him. it was nice for it to just be the two of you again… not that you didn’t enjoy the game you two just played.

jeonghan’s eyes were piercing into yours with something different than you’d ever seen. it was a content look which you were used to but…

“i-“ he paused, scanning your eyes to see if he should even say such a foolish thing.

“you what, jeonghan?” you said delicately, running your fingers through your hair.

“i love you, y/n.” he whispered. he sunk his head down to the rook of your neck as if to hide. it was the most precious thing you’ve ever seen this boy do.

“jeonghan…” you shifted to grab his face and bring it back up to look at you. “i love you too.”

how were you two sharing the most soft, comforting moment with each other right after having sex that you felt would have the devil himself appalled?

“really?” his eyes lit up, a smile growing on his face. he showered every inch of your face in kisses as you giggled through every second of it. once he finally stopped you nodded silently with a soft smile plastered across your face.

most normal people in such a situation would be asking all sorts of questions, but you didn’t care to. you knew you guys would talk about it at the right time for both of you, that time just wasn’t now.

-

“BREAKFAST!!” mingyu yelled from the kitchen. you were barely managing to open your eyes as you heard footsteps running down the hall. for these men being well past their teenage years, you always found yourself thinking of them as boys. always so cheerful and full of energy, even first thing in the morning.

once you “came to” if you will, you realized you were being spooned by the boy that confessed his love for you last night… or early this morning. the moment he ripped you away from the table you’d lost track of all time.

you both were naked but you felt clean. you vaguely remember in your post-fucked-out state, that jeonghan had carried you to the bathroom with him to shower.

“hannie,” you spoke just above a whisper.

“hmmmmmm,” he groaned, pulling you closer to him.

“gyu just said breakfast is ready and.. i’m hungry.”

“i don’t blame you.” you could hear the smile on his face even tho your back was turned to him. his morning voice was husky, the sound of it immediately going to your core, but you were too hungry to do anything about it.

“shutup,” you giggled. “let’s get dressed.”

“ugggggh okay fine, fine.”

he let you slip out of his arms to sit on the edge of his bed before… attempting to get up. your legs were so physically weak, you couldn’t bring yourself to stand. in that moment you knew jeonghan was watching you because he bursted out laughing.

“oh i’m so sorry,” he sighed once he finished his laughing session.

“for laughing at the fact that i can’t stand? or for being the fucking reason that i can’t stand?” you jokingly scolded.

“both,” he shrugged with a smug smirk on his face before getting up and grabbing two pairs of briefs from his drawer, one for you and one for him. he put on a pair, then threw a baggy t-shirt on and called it good. “i hope you’re okay twinning with me,” he teased as he got on his knees to slide the underwear he grabbed for you onto your legs. once he got to your thighs you took over.

“i don’t mind in the slightest,” you gave him a cheeky smile. he shifted closer to you on his knees so he was between your legs, then gave you a tender kiss before he spoke again.

“good. now what shirt of mine do you want to wear, princess?”

you looked up at the ceiling, cartoonishly thinking even though you both knew what shirt you wanted to wear.

“maybe that really really baggy sweater with that ‘message of’ whatever on it?”

he gave you another kiss with a smile before moving to his closet. “message of ames it is, pretty girl.”

once he helped you put the sweatshirt on, you still sitting on the bed, he kneeled backwards in front of you so you could hop on his back.

“we were taking bets on if you two were gonna come down,” minghao deadpanned from the table, taking a bite of one of mingyu’s pancakes.

“the princess was hungry.” you lightly hit him upside the head before he carefully set you down right next to the chair he just pulled out for you. once you sat, he pushed you in.

minghao smiled at you. he spoke up once jeonghan walked into the kitchen to fetch your plates. “i’m glad he treats someone nicely.”

you two giggled together. “and i’m glad it’s me.”

“oh… something happened last night.” he paused with his forkful of hash browns in front of his face. “well, beside the obvious.”

your face grew hot. “ha, yeah you wouldn’t believe.”

“can’t wait to hear about it,” he whispered, then shoveling the hash browns into his mouth.

“hey,” jeonghan blurted setting your plate down in front of you. “you guys, where’s josh?” he asked casually as he sat with his own plate as if what happened last night just simply… didn’t happen. you could imagine he was hesitant to face you both.

but then…

“y/n! jeonghan!” josh yelled from his room. “what the fuck are these?!”

you and jeonghan slowly turned to look at each other, both wearing the words “oh fuck” on your faces without muttering a word. jeonghan shot out of his chair and ran up the stairs to save both of your asses.

you turned to your food, silently poking at a piece of your scrambled eggs. minghao leaned in close, so you turned to him. “what did he find?” he whispered.

as if on cue, mingyu ran over from the kitchen to lean his head in. you leaned close to the boys so you knew any lingering ears wouldn’t hear. “jeonghan threw my underwear in his room,” you whispered back.

minghao bursted out laughing, mingyu stood up dumbfounded. exaggerated shock displayed on his face. anyone else in the room who was trying to mind their own business was now staring.

“you guys are too fucking much,” minghao sighed while holding a smile on his face. mingyu silently kissed you on the top of your head before walking back into the kitchen.

“you have no idea,” you smiled back, taking a bite of your best friend’s homemade pancakes.

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱‧₊˚

tag list: (i tagged everyone who reblogged the teaser) @jenoslutie @goblynnrockz @iluvhoshi @shinaely @squishysquishjimin @sana-is-ms-rmty @wonusfavgf @httpjeia @chanichanvhan @133456789000000000000 @4shypotato @meowwiie @lethia-killua @asyre @jeonghnie @starcandybby

[almostfoxglove]

THE PRETTIEST

written for @quinnnfabrgay-writes & @hauntedhowlett-writes' #MONSTERSMASH2024 challenge

RATING: Explicit (18+) | PAIRING: Max Phillips x f!Reader CREATURE: GHOST + MAX PHILLIPS WORD COUNT: 4.3k CW: Smut (piv), voyeurism/non-consensual voyeurism (he's invisible and reader doesn't know he's watching), Max is a bit of a creep okay he's doing his best here, protective!max, jealous!max, enough manager speak that I got tech startup flashbacks.

SUMMARY: After a restructuring at the company, Max finds himself dead—this time for good—and haunting his old duplex. Lucky for him, you move in.

read on ao3 | almostfoxglove masterlist

Of all the hell holes where one might waste eternity, Max is pretty sure his vacant duplex is the worst of them. Six rooms, two floors spined by a spiral staircase—all boring and hollow and dusty. Disgusting. How difficult would it have been to let him haunt the office? He could’ve leered over all those pathetic little office drones, driven them crazy forever. Fucked with their desk chairs, their hard drives, mixed up all their coffee mugs. Not that Max has mastered the art of affecting the material world yet, but he will.

Petty? Sure. But you can’t blame a guy for feeling a little owed after all management’s little reorganization. His relocation to the goddamn fucking afterlife—and to this prison of an apartment where there’s no one to subjugate or fuck, no less. 

What a waste of his potential. His talents.

Who knows how long he spends stuck alone in this place until someone shows up, but eventually people do. The real estate agent—Doreen and her little beehive hairdo, her eyebrows always penciled on too thin—and, over what Max estimates to be about three weeks, a parade of nobodies she tours around, preaching godless, truthless sermons of the duplex’s good bones and the good life they could have in these dreary fucking rooms. He’d be proud of her sales pitch if he weren’t so goddamn pissed.

He tries, he really does. Yells often, I’m right here, Dor-een, honey, right fucking here! And waves his arms in front of her face, but he can scream as loud as he likes; nobody hears a thing. 

For the first time in his many lives, people walk straight through him. 

There might be, possibly, some karma in that. 

Max doesn’t care for it.

It’s misery until the day Doreen brings him you.

Come on, Max whines, slouching lazily on your couch. Curled up with your bedsheets cloaked over your head, you rot on the cushions beside him, four hours deep in a Desperate Housewives marathon, oblivious to his company: your usual Sunday routine.

As usual you don’t hear him, don’t see him either. Sitting right beside you, making no dents in the pillows, his glossy dress shoes kicked up on the coffee table. Still he finds himself complaining, one hand gesticulating wildly at the screen, You’re killing me, baby. It’s obviously the fucking neighbor! Guy’s got a box of death under his pool!

Meanwhile you just sit there, enthralled as Eva Longoria struts about in her tiny skirts and tiny shoes. Max tells himself the only reason he stays in the room when you watch this garbage is for her and all the other pretty housewives or to leer at what bits of you peek out from your duvet each time you reach for your tea on the coffee table—a wrist, your elbow, and when you knock over the popcorn bowl and slip the sheets from your head, the lovely hollow of your perfect neck. Truth is, if you were to quiz him, he’d be able to cite the plot of the whole season beat for beat.

Not that he’s enjoying this, this—this garbage. Never.

No fucking way. He’s just perceptive. Has an excellent memory.

Plus this is the one way he gets to be close to you. Such a pretty little thing, taunting him without ever knowing it. That sweet mouth, those clever eyes. Showering with the bathroom door sometimes cracked like you know he’s here and dying to peek through the veil of your jasmine-laced steam. Chewing the ends of your pencils while you sketch out some masterpiece on looseleaf that you never get around to painting.

Sitting on your couch, at your dining table, at the foot of your bed while you brush out your hair after a long day—it’s the closest Max gets to feeling like being stuck here might not be hell, just purgatory: always a breath away from the thing he’d like to touch, but at least he’s not simmering in battery acid or being flogged. He’s had his share of blood-bag roommates—brief fascinations that drained so quickly—but you? You’ve lived in Max’s apartment for three months and he’s no less drunk on you than he was the day Doreen toured you around. Can’t quite put his finger on why. Maybe it’s the longing, the forest fire that sears through his ice-box chest every time your eyes skim his face by accident, never lingering. 

What can he say? Max is a man, after all. Under all the blood and monster.

And you’re the prettiest creature he’s ever seen.

When the show cuts to commercial you mute the TV, immune to the serpent-tongued promises of liars like him. Lured by nothing, by nobody. Already slinking from your bedsheet cave, all bare legs and cute little ankles striding out of the room, leaving him with the ghost of you, the smell of your perfume kissed into the duvet.

What he wouldn’t give for the chance to sell himself to you. He’d charm you all the way to your perfect knees.

In a way, you and Max are the perfect couple. You’re free to do as you wish, and he’s free to watch you every second that you spend at home, miserable the moment you leave for work in those tight fucking pencil skirts. No better than a dog, he spends his vagrant hours of isolation alternating between puppy-eyed pouting and anxious pacing, tortured until your evening return. 

How did he ever live here alone? Alive or otherwise. He can’t remember now. There are too many rooms, too few sounds, too few breaths, too few footsteps. He misses you. Your bedhead and pajamas, your blanket nest in front of the TV, the cute way you answer the phone. 

Today, you don’t come home till eight fifteen—and Max has spent thirteen hours losing what’s left of his mind.

Baby, he sighs, rushing for the front room at the first turn of the lock, a grin stretched to dimples in his cheeks. Seems even if you can’t hear him, Max can’t help talking to you, perhaps childlike in his belief that someday you will. Where the hell have you—

His sentence hacks itself in half, drops to silence, because you’re blushing when you come in, eyes shyly downcast, one hand shaking the rain loose from your hair, tendrils clinging to your cheeks. “Here,” you say, and for a beat Max thinks you’re speaking to him. His mouth drops, stunned. 

Is this it? Can you finally see him?

“Come in, come in,” you say.

Then a man steps in behind you, shuts the door behind his hulking form, and if there were any blood to speak of in his veins, Max is certain it’d boil at the sight of him. Tall and empty-headed, dopey as a dog, stomping his blocky, muddy shoes all over your hallway. Yours and Max’s. Getting goddamn filth on your hall carpet. Given just a few material cells, Max’d have this guy dead before he makes it to the living room, wouldn’t even bother drinking him. This breed of dumbass isn’t worth the mess.

But he’s useless. Less than a gnat. Sentenced to watch you trail this motherfucker who wouldn’t know Tom Ford from his Brioni into your kitchen, jackets shedding and small talk traded—boring, boring, boring, but you laugh when the guy makes a shitty joke about the weather. 

This guy, this nobody, gets to make you laugh while Max never even gets a chance to try.

On second thought, maybe this is hell after all.

“S’a nice place,” the dumbass says, laying his knockoff blazer over the back of a barstool. Cheap stitching. Terrible, too-thin lapels.

You look about the room as if standing in it for the first time and for a moment your eyes pass right over Max, whose long-dead heart winces. Yelps. If you could see him, there’s no way you’d entertain this guy. This nameless little worker bee. Max would make you laugh properly, how you laugh when something funny happens on TV or when you get a letter in the mail from your brother. Sudden and twinkling, often ending in a snort. Adorable.

Shrugging, you turn into your fridge and say, “Yeah, I like it,” and exhume two slim cans of vodka seltzer to set on the kitchen island.

Thank you, Max says, his arms crossed over his chest.

The dumbass’ brows flicker up as he regards your offering. Idiot. What was he expecting from a girl like you, a PBR? These are delicious. Elegant. Calorie wise. Max understands. Max would drink that with a smile and a thank you. 

Or maybe he’d skip right to drinking you.

Sensing his hesitation, you crack your can and take a sip. “They’re not as bad as they look,” you say, a nervous chuckle bittering your lips as you watch your date open his can and bring it to his nose to sniff. “Sorry. I don’t have anything else.”

You can do so much better, baby, Max sighs. You’ve got better right here.

Against his will, the hours pass. The evening goes on. You and the dumbass only drink half a can each—him with a half-snarled lip and you with a self-conscious twinge—but somehow by nightfall he’s got you scooching your barstool closer to him, allowing his slimy hand to rest on your thigh. 

Max bristles. Seethes. Don’t do it, he pleads to you, unheard. He’s not gonna fuck you right, just look at him. Send this idiot home and watch TV with me. Do anything but this guy, baby, anything but him.

You bend in slow motion and it’s agonizing, the tilt of your head as you press your lips to his. The wet slurp of his mouth taking the second you meet. A terrible kiss, though you’re polite enough not to flinch. Breaking from the prod of his pink-slug tongue to offer your neck, his mouth immediately moving, and fuck baby, it’s like you’re trying to kill him all over again. Drive a stake straight through Max’s blackened heart by giving up what he longs to claim.

In an instant, anger births itself from the hollow of his chest. His hand shoots out in useless violence, swinging as if to strike a seltzer can from the countertop and knowing it won’t do a lick of good as ire devours him, igneous and fervid, searing hot as life in his icy hands.

The can jumps from the counter and clunks to the floor, its contents gluggluglug-ing across the tiles.

“The fuck?” Max hears the dumbass gasp as he leaps from his barstool, eyes bugged wide and child-like and weak. You freeze, lips pink and swollen, staring down at the emptying can. 

It’s a shame neither of you can see the way Max smiles. 

Now that’s what I’m talking about, he crows. Finally a little substance around here! 

This is good. No, it’s better than good. This is the rush after a promotion, after the deal that closes out the quarter over target. The look on every sad sack’s face knowing they lost and he won.

This is the bite that finally breaks skin.

Maddening, burgeoning, addictive.

He’s real again. A goddamn Beetlejuice for you, baby. He’s gonna scare this fucknut out of here and have you to himself. First was the can, next is you, and he’s gonna kiss you so much better than that. In celebration, Max kicks one foot to send the can soaring across the kitchen floor and watches his shoe pass right through it, aluminum undisturbed on the floor. No, he mutters, kicking again. No, fucking—come on, you worthless piece of shit—

Your nervous laugh is too far away to comfort him. Distant too is your voice saying, “My room’s this way,” and the shuffling of your footsteps as Max loses his shit on the seltzer can that now refuses to budge no matter the swell of his outrage. By the time he snaps from his incensed trance, your barstools are empty. He blinks, breathless with muscle memory—his lungs wheezing because they remember wheezing, not out of need.

Baby? he calls out.

But you reply. A murmur too lusty to be a giggle—Max’s body coils up at the sound, taut and needy, and carries him toward the sound. He forgets, briefly, who you’re with. Believes he’ll find you in your bedroom alone beneath the covers, hands fluttering as you bring yourself to the edge of release. How beautiful you’d be, gasping in pleasure. He might close his eyes and pretend it’s him drawing out your every breathy, needy sound.

You’ve left the bedroom door cracked, and though in death he’s no longer bound by silly things like permission, Max has since you moved in found himself in the habit of respecting closed doors. Walls are chalk outlines over which he’s free to step, but he doesn’t, not if you’ve closed the gate. He’s not a monster. Or not a total monster—whatever, semantics. Point is that he only spies on your showers if you’ve cracked the door. Indulges in the soft moments of you sleeping only when you’ve left him that sliver of room.

Like the room you’ve left him now: slender and tempting, this stripe of your bedroom wall. A Degas print in a copper frame, the wooden post at the foot of your bed. 

Your sweet voice cooing here, like this, and the creak of your mattress.

Something black and silty sinks in Max’s stomach when he steps inside. Not the rage from moments ago. Something darker, heavier. Jealousy. Half-sheeted by your duvet, the dumbass you’ve brought home rocks above you, his shirt gone, his beefcake arm blocking the view of your chest, and though you’re making all the right sounds it’s obvious this isn’t any good.

He’s not fucking you right.

Your hands clawing at his back are too stiff. Your yeses a beat too slow. As the idiot pants—thrusts choppy and graceless—Max watches your hand tap his shoulder blade as you breathe, “Flip over.”

“What?” bumbles the guy, his hips stalling. “Oh shit—fuck yeah. Okay.”

Another grunt, then he rolls off and Max gets a glimpse of you—your red bra lacy and see through, your nipples so pretty underneath. It just isn’t right, the awkwardness of this colossal douchebag as he settles on his back and you ruck back the covers to straddle him, not at all breathless, hardly even flushed, your hair all messy at the back from disappointing friction.

“Shit,” the guy gasps as you sink down on him, clamping those boorish hands onto your waist.

You don’t even whine, not even as you start to rock, though his breathing gallops beneath you. Guy looks two seconds from nutting while you look years away from anything even loosely resembling an orgasm—your rhythm changing often as you try and fail to find a pace that suits you. “Christ—oh my god, ” the guy groans.

Max sucks his front teeth, tongue soiled with venom.

“Touch me,” you sigh, bouncing now. The curtain of your hair shivering down your back. 

This guy fucks like he’s never touched a woman before. At your request his knuckles only pale, fingers pinching you tighter. That’s not what she means, Max growls. Touch her fucking clit, you pin-dicked imbecile. Can’t fucking please a woman, should be fucking ashamed—

His pointless ranting is cut short by a sudden moan as the guy lifts you off him in time to come all over his stomach, chest rapid in its heaving, upper lip snarled in pleasure he doesn’t have the goddamn decency to return to you. For a long moment you hover above him, waiting, but his head just slumps back against the pillow, satisfied. 

Done.

He’s actually done. Motherfucker.

When you crawl off him to sit back against your headboard—arms crossing over your stomach self-consciously—Max sees red. Sees fire. Sees the roiling magma at the center of the earth where someone oughta make this fucker take a nice hot bath. 

He’d do this right. He’d fuck you properly, have you coming apart at the seams, go down on you until you beg for his cock and edge himself for as long as it takes to have you screaming his name. Can’t you see that? Can’t you feel him here, right now? Can’t you feel how bad he wants you? Can’t you imagine how much better he’d be? How good he’d make you feel?

Letting out an airy chuckle, the brute wipes the back of his hand across his sweaty brow and pushes himself to his feet. Redresses with a goddamn smirk on his face—not one of cruelty, but it might as well be. He thinks this is a job well done. Time to go home. 

A peck to your lips, then he’s rattling on about calling you, seeing you again, maybe Thursday? Friday? While you just sit there, blinking up at him in disbelief. “Sure,” you say, dazed and not quite thinking. “I’ll call you.”

Yeah, she’s not calling you, Max snarls, following the guy out of the room. Watching as the jackass plucks his jacket from the back of your barstool, steps over the mess of seltzer without a thought to clean it up for you, and waltzes right out the door. Not a care in the goddamn world. 

Though he hears you get up shortly after to use the bathroom, you don’t emerge from your bedroom and Max doesn’t disturb you. He spends that time in the kitchen, grabbing and grabbing and grabbing at the dish towel hung over the handle on the oven door, trying to pull it off. 

For at least an hour, his hand glides through the towel as if it’s water, not a flutter or sway in the fabric. Not even a brush, a compromise. It just hangs there, indignant. Mocking him. Deaddeaddeaddeaddead. Maybe it’s the Senior Sales Manager in him, the apex predator at the top of the food chain—but Max can do this all night. He’s not backing down, not letting a stupid fucking towel get the better of him. That lazy curtain of terrycloth will disintegrate before he waves the white flag. 

Beyond the picture frame windows that stare out into the barren, colorless street, the sun has shied to navy blue, letting out the round-mouthed moon, and you have not emerged from your bedroom for hours. He wants to check on you, ask if you’re okay. Frankly, baby, he’s getting a little worried. On the next sweep of his hand, the towel gives up the ghost; Max pulls it from the oven handle, marveling at the toothy fabric. He’s holding it, really holding it, all on his own. 

Thank fuck he’s not haunting the office. If any of those bull-brained fucks saw him now, as he kneels on your kitchen floor, he’d have to die all over again. Somehow. The technicals aren’t important—what’s important is that no one’s here to see him on his fucking knees, mopping up the spilled drink. Something like joy burbles in his chest when he reaches for the can and seizes it, placing it safely on your counter. The floor dry and shining again, clean. 

Max folds the towel carefully and returns it to the rack. 

As if on cue, the bedroom door croaks down the hall and you emerge. A huge t-shirt slumps from your frame; you’ve tied your hair up, put your glasses back on. Dressed down for the last dregs of night, rubbing the back of your hand in one eye, tired. 

You look so, so tired.

I’d rub your shoulders, baby, Max sighs quietly and though you won’t hear him, it still—after three whole months—doesn’t feel any less right to hope.

He steps out of your way as you round the corner into the kitchen with a yawn, hands clasped behind his back, cheek dimpled and eyes alight. Just like he wanted, just like he hoped, your eyes fall immediately to the floor where the can is missing, the spill wiped. Lashes flickering—the towel dark at the hem on its handle, the empty can on the counter. Your brows pinch low over your nose, curious. 

Pretty good for a dead guy, Max grins.

How sweet, that lifting flinch at your mouth’s sharp, pink corner. The soft hm you make in reply. It’s not much, but this strange, fluttery feeling in the dark cavity one might wrongly call his heart? It doesn’t feel half bad. 

Not bad at all.

He’s getting better at it. Not great, but the projections look good. Give him a little time, he’ll have this whole place dancing. Put on a big show, announce himself properly. 

In the meantime he practices when you’re not looking. Small stuff—he opens cupboards. Shuts them. Hits start on the dryer when you forget to press it yourself. Some days he wastes reaching for things and coming up empty, but now again his luck sparkles. Things move. Bend to his will. Isn’t long until he can hold it for a while—gathering the matter to run the vacuum around, or reorganize your pantry. A tidy house makes a tidy mind, baby. No good living in a dump. You’re so busy, always cracking around like a ping pong ball, and hell, it’s not like Max can leave this place, get a little air in his idle lungs.

He likes being useful to you. Likes that tiny smirk on your lips when you find something fixed or organized for you, even though you likely chalk it up to having forgotten that you did it yourself. Doesn’t matter. He doesn’t need the credit. Isn’t that strange? How often he smiles at you? How perfect he finds the taste of your name.

Winter has arrived like a secret—whispered about for weeks and then suddenly let loose on the world. You come home from work in the evenings with icing sugar hair. Usually unbothered, far as Max can tell, but today you stagger in flushed from the cold and dark in the eyes.

Shit, baby, Max says when he sees you. Bad day?

Sniffling, you drop your coat right there in the hall, let it puddle over your shoes, and stalk off on a mission, barreling into the kitchen. The fridge door rips open, casting blue-white light over your face, and you must feel a hell of a lot worse than you feel because you don’t even blink at the contents inside. All the shelves wiped clean, the bottles arranged with the labels facing out, those wilted, bad greens deposited in the compost. You just reach in for the half-drunk bottle of Riesling that to Max smelled mostly like juice and swipe off the lid.

You chug on your way to the couch, leaving the fridge door open behind you.

Max closes it when you’ve gone, the TV already switched on in the living room, the lilting strings of the Desperate Housewives theme song swimming through the air. When he turns the corner he finds you wrapped in the throw blanket he now knows the texture of—supple and velvet, weighted and warm—with the wine bottle nestled in your lap. 

A silver tear hangs on your cheek. 

Really bad day, whatever it was. 

He wants to ask. Wants to pull you into his arms and pet back your hair. Wants to lick that sadness from your skin. 

Maybe this isn’t the show he’s imagined. Not much of a reveal—but you look so small right now, alone on your couch. Wine splashing in its bottle as you bring it to your lips, not bothering to wipe that tear away. If Max had a heart that beat, it’d stutter as he watches you. Helpless isn’t something he cares to feel.

No time like the present. Max sighs, scrubs a hand down his face as he ticks his jaw to one side, and nods. Alright, baby, he relents. Hang on.

On his way to the bathroom he cracks all the knuckles on his left hand, rolls his neck, swings his shoulders. Stretches himself long and limber like he’s about to run—but this is it. Curtain’s coming up. Time to find out if one glimpse of him sends you sprinting for the hills. Though he casts no reflection, Max stands before the mirror hanging over the sink and straightens his tie, corrects his lapels. Old habits, but it never hurts to look good.

Hand waggling, then, over the tissue box on the counter. He slaps himself hard, sending a delicious ripple of pain across his cheek. Come on, he begs. Don’t play hard to get.

The box lifts.

Here he comes: tissue box in hand, stalking tall and proud down your hallway with his chin up, shoulders back. Gets the momentum rolling, doesn’t hesitate, just waltzes in.

Your head snaps in his direction, eyes round and brows rising. To you it must look like the tissues float through the air to your side. Max steps back with butterflies jittering in his bones. 

Don’t be scared, he pleads. It’s just me.

With your head cocked to one side you consider this, though you’ve not heard his voice. Probably for the best. Came out a little softer than he meant it to, a little needy, and that’s just not becoming of a man like him. He has a reputation to uphold, even now. 

After a long, bludgeoning pause you click your tongue, swiping one white tissue from the box to turn over in your hand. Deliberating. Then your face cracks, possessed by a slithering smirk. Your gaze flickering so close to him it’s almost as if you’ve looked him in the eye. 

Deep in his chest, Max feels a strange throb—his stirring heart—as you say out loud, 

“I knew someone was there.”

dividers by @saradika-graphics - tag list & some mutuals!

@ak-vintage @thethirstwivesclub @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @hediondoamor-blog @harriedandharassed 

@burntheedges @jolapeno @la-eterna-enamorada29 @iknowisoundcrazy @guiltyasdave

@littlemisspascal @luxurychristmaspudding @tonysopranosrobe @evolnoomym @sweetpascal 

@spacelatinos4life @sweetpascal @biggetywitch @wannab-urs @helenanell

@pedgito @pastelpinkflowerlife @jessthebaker @rav3n-pascal22 @sixhours 

@noisynightmarepoetry @kyberblade @beezusvreeland @whiskeyneat-coffeeblack 

@pedrospatch @yopossum @toomanytookas @sawymredfox @galway-girlatwork

@ppascalrain @bbyanarchist @amanitacowboy @milla-frenchy @schnarfer

[twinkletfout]

— Cockwarming Hiromi Higuruma🎀

Soft whiny moans escaped from you, as you sat on Higuruma's lap his cock snuggled inside you. He gave no attention to you as he looked through his documents and scribbled on it. Your pussy trying to accommodate his sheer size as it moulds its shape inside you, god, you wanted to move so bad. Your legs were splayed on top of his thighs while you were gripping on the desks trying to sit still. If you moved a bit trying to get some kind of friction, one of his hands would come to slap on your twitching clit.

You turned to look at his face slightly with your innocent eyes, begging him to let you move. But too bad, he was liking this too much. “Hm?” He grunted, still not looking at you. You whined to get his attention, as you felt him twitching inside you “hiroo?” You asked with a drunken gaze. He sighed as he put his pen down, relaxing on the chair. When he adjusted the way he sat, your hips instinctevely sank on top of him, feeling him stirring even deeper inside you as you let out a moan, trying to maintain your composure.

He let out a chuckle at your pathetic state “you are practically begging for it, aren't you?” He whispered in your ear when you felt your back pressing onto his clothed chest. One of his hands came up to graze your abdomen, as he gently rubbed it. “Feel that?” he said moving a bit, as kissed the nape of your neck, the breath hot against your skin. You stirred on his lap, letting out a whimper. He gave a harsh slap on your thigh, “be quiet, sweet thing” he mumbled “we don't want anyone interrupting us, right?” his hand snaked up towards your throbbing clit “so wet f’ me” he jerked his hips, you bit your lips so hard as you tried to contain the moan.

He pushed both of your legs up to your shoulders telling you to hold it in place. If anyone walks through the door in front of you.. they will get a clear view of what's unfolding between them. But you knew no one dared to come through that door when you were with Hiromi. But the thrill of being used like this only made your desires deepen. He kissed your cheek several times as he whispered “im gonna fuck you— so hard” his breath hitched when you said in a hushed plea “please”

You felt him smirking slightly as he gripped on your thighs to pull you up slightly to pound into you. You threw your head back as you felt your need getting satisfied through each thrust. The chair under him shaking violently cause of the sheer force of him fucking into you. He grunted close to your ear. Letting you know how much you are making him feel. Your walls clenching on to his girth so tight when you felt yourself orgasming around him, he let out the most erotic moan known to mankind “God— you are killing me” you were trembling all over as he kept you in place not giving you any second as he kept on pounding into you determined to fill you to the brim.

“Slow- go slow, hiro!” you pleaded, he shushed you, as he shifted the weight of both of your legs to his one hand, and used his other hand to give a firm slap to your ass. A suppressed moan left you in the stinging pain. “I told you to be quiet, didn't i?” his pace picked up as he gripped on to the flesh of your ass, when you felt him fumbling the rhythm, his grip on your ass tightening, leaving harsh, red marks as he thrusted inside for the last time, strings of cum painting your gummy walls. As he let out a long pant, releasing his grasp on you as he made you look at him. A grin flashing across his face at your fucked out expression as he leaned in to kiss you, his cock still warm and snuggled inside you.

[bruciemilf]

The Penguin going into detail about the Maroni/Falcone family feud makes me FERAL.

It just makes me think about. Young Oz. He’s hungry, scrappy, and slick, and if Gotham wants a piece of him, it��ll have to come get him herself. He doesn’t chase.

Makes me think about Sal and Falcone fighting at any moment’s notice. Not a day goes by where the notorious families don’t try to kill eachother in bright daylight.

They made a big fucking mistake fighting on Wayne’s street, thought.

Imagine Thomas, only in sweatpants cause it’s 8 in the goddam fucking morning, angrily stomping out of his house, holding a sleeping baby Bruce with one hand and a gun in the other.

“Hey! You Drop pushin’ cocksuckers wanna murder eachother, do it off my fucking lawn!” There’s a collective gulp within them. Falcone tries saying something and gets shot in the knee.

“Anyone else have a speech prepared?”

The silence is very clear.

“Oz!” Oz jumping. He’s been sitting at Sal’s side just for this, — if Falcone asks, he’ll just say ‘I wanted to make sure he doesn’t get ya, boss’ as always. “Get inside, come on.”

At the end of the day: Oz plays for the biggest dog. Even if that’s his annoying childhood best friend.

So he grumbles, hurries off on a bad leg, — Thomas offered him better braces and like hell he’ll accept. The doors get locked. “…Thanks—“

Thomas whips around, a sharp, vicious motion. Pain cuts from the tip of his ear to the bow of his lips, flesh cut by the hard barrel of the gun. Hurts less than his ego.

“You’re going to get yourself fucking killed. “

“Not your fucking problem, fyi.”

“FYI? As long as you’re alive, you’re MY fucking problem, fyi.” He tosses the gun in Oz’s lap, along with a still sleepy baby Bruce, who touches on the fresh wound on his face gently.

And Thomas walks away like it’s so casual. “Cmon, I’m making cannolis. “

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as love tropes: xu minghao

enemies to lovers

'you're not mine but wouldn't you want to be?'

minghao tries is hardest to stay calm but all these higher ups are making it really hard. he turns to look at you and the sight of your hunched back and bitten raw lips makes him boil. are you two friends? no, far from it. minghao is very aware of the whole 'enemies' agenda that is happening between you both, but does he want to see you like this? nervous, agitated, scared? no. fucking hell, no. he wants to see you burning with passion, wants to see that fire in your eyes whenever you two argue - minghao feels like he's been punched in the chest when he realizes that he's ready to kill just for you to not look this scared.

'can we wrap this up?' he voices out loud, not bothering to hide his annoyance. 'i don't see any point in this.'

'it'd be wise for you to be more polite and remember who you are talking to, xu minghao.'

he sees how you cringe at this, how your hands ball up into fists at the way that man spoke to him. understanding that you are angered on his behalf warms minghao up; it feels incredibly nice to know that you care. he keeps his mouth shut, lets managers drag on about the issue and takes two step in your direction, stopping when your shoulders brush. you tense up at first, sending him a questioning glance but he only stays put to which you reply with a rejected sigh. they lecture him and then start lecturing you and minghao can't just stand still when you're obviously fuming. they are being rude to you and the words are out of his mouth before he can think them through: 'don't talk to her like that.' your sharp intake of breath kind of wakes him up and he stares ahead at all the managers, who all look shell shocked.

'you have no right to talk to her like that.' minghao pushes in a clipped tone. 'she did her best and so did i, our timing got fucked up but it's not our fault. don't speak to her in that tone.'

shortly after you get pulled away by other people and minghao is in for another 30 minutes of lecturing. by the time he finally gets out of that stuffy room, he feels like he wasted ten years of his life on nothing. he sighs, stretches and is about to turn when soft steps stop him. he knows it's you even before you call out his name.

'why did you do that?' you ask, squinting at him. 'why the sudden hero act?'

'it wasn't an act,' he says, rolling his eyes. god, he's so tired. 'but you're welcome.'

'i haven't asked for it,' you spit out, obviously angered. 'i don't need your pity.'

minghao turns around, raising his eyebrow. 'i have never pitied you,' he says strongly, feeling himself getting worked up again as some stupid side effect on you being close. 'can't you just say 'thank you' and move on?'

'i don't need your help!' you hiss. 'i haven't asked for it!'

and - only you can make minghao want to both bang his head on the wall from frustration and laugh like a maniac. he sometimes wants to step closer, pull you into his arms and... he doesn't know. part of him wants to strangle you for being so damn difficult all the fucking time, but another part wants to smash your mouths together so you can finally shut up. minghao is aware of how unhealthy it is just as he is aware of how often your gaze falls on his lips or his biceps. it's good to know he's not the only one who's gone mad. they say it's a fine line between hatred and love and for minghao right now this line is so thin that he barely see it anymore. is it the same for you? he wants to ask, but instead he says: 'why you didn't stop me then? you always could just interrupt me over there but you didn't say a thing. if you don't need my help why i was the one who you turned to when authorities came? you didn't say anything but you searched for me with your eyes, don't even try to deny it.'

five steps. that's the distance that separates you two and minghao thinks it's fitting. he can take two and then you can take two and then maybe you'll play game of chicken on that last step. but you surprise him with taking all those five steps yourself, storming onto him with fire in your eyes that he loves so much. 'you're not the one to talk, minghao. you think i don't know that it was you who asked everyone to wait up for me? who brought medicine to my team when i fell sick?' you try to push him on his chest but minghao easily catches you wrist in his, not letting you move. 'let me go.'

'that's not what you want.' he says in a calm tone that doesn't show all the hurricane which's happening inside of him.

reality of how close you two are standing dawns on you. jerkily, you try to step back but his hold on you is too strong. 'let me go,' you whisper, voice wavering. 'hao, let me go.'

hao. 'that's not what you want,' minghao whispers and lets his other hand wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer to his chest. 'tell me what you really want, angel.' he sees how you shudder at the petname and smiles, leaning in. he lets go of your wrist, locking his arms around you instead. 'you can go if you want.' he leans in, brushing your noses together. 'or you can stay. and i can never, ever let you go. which i think is what you actually want.'

it's brave. it's bold, it's brazen and - it works. your body sags in his arms and you hide your face in his neck, hugging him back. 'prick,' you mutter into his neck, raising goosebumps where your lips touch his skin. 'self absorbed asshole.'

'yeah,' minghao easily agrees, hugging you tighter. 'prick, self absorbed asshole that i will never, ever let you go.'

a/n: this one is a bit vague but i couldn't figure out how to write this for the live of me. i hope this was okay? let me know! - nini

my seventeen works are here

my formula 1 works are here

[innorogers]

Reverie

Steve Rogers x Reader (You)

Summary: Steve doesn't care about you past, but he is hesitating if he should take things further. Until he saw that punk trying to make a move on you...wait, did he say his name is Walker? John Fucking Walker?!

Warning: Minors DNI / Minors DNI / First Time / First Date / Fluff? / Smut / Unprotected Sex /

Characters: Natasha, Tony, OCs, John Walker, Timeline is after Endgame and everyone is happy and alive.

Also: You don't have to read the previous two chapters, but it would enhance the experience if you did. And thanks in advance for repost or any feedback ❤️

Chapter 1: Insomnia | Chapter 2: Lucid

"We'd better get going…" you panted between breaths, your words more moans and whispers than actual sentences. As his lips moved further into your skin, the glasses of the windows grow foggier and steamed.

"...I know... we should," he replied, marking your collarbone with his voice hoarse and raspy. One hand pressed against your thigh, lifting your leg to wrap around his hip, while the other tangled in your hair. "I just don’t think I can…" he muttered, kissing your breast and leaving love marks, sucking and soothing them.

Me neither. You thought to yourself while grabbing his head to pull him closer. And I don't want to.

But the car horns honked twice outside the building, jolting Steve to a halt.

"Shit, I don’t think we’re getting away with this..." he sighs, breathing heavily as he rested his head on your shoulder, trying to calm his body. It was hard, though, especially with you looking the way you did—hair disheveled, cheeks flushed, forehead damp, and lips swollen. Goddamn, you are sexy as fuck. Your shirt was half-torn, shoulders marked with bites, and you were panting in a way that drove him wild.

"We need to..." He tried to button up your shirt but sighed and gave up. Honestly, he wanted to do the opposite.

You laughed, fixing his messy hair. Jumping off the desk, helped straighten his collar. "There." You smiled up at him as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "As much as I want to stay, we’d better hurry."

"I know, I know..." Steve grumbled as the car honked again. "Do you need to change?" he asked, adjusting his shirt and glancing at the waiting car.

"Nope, thank goodness for this," you said, grabbing your lab coat. "Or it would be too obvious." You covered yourself and smoothed out your clothes.

"Too obvious of what?" he teased. "You think they’ll suspect something?"

"Well... no." You quickly got ready and helped him by tugging the back of his shirt. "I doubt anyone expects us to show up together—they’ll just think it’s a coincidence."

"Tony knows. That’s why he sent the damn car." Steve scoffed, taking your hand as he led you outside, opening the door for you.

"In his defense, this meeting was set two weeks ago." You smiled, taking his hand once seated, fingers intertwined as you sighed contentedly. "I just forgot because I was... very distracted."

The car began moving, thankfully driverless and on autopilot, giving Steve the chance to take your hand again. The cool AC calmed both of you, letting you think more clearly. You tried to focus on the upcoming meeting, but it was impossible when he started kissing your fingers.

"He wants us to concentrate and send a car with no driver?" Steve grinned as the campus blurred by. “He is challenging my imagination.”

"Maybe no one wants to see what’s happening here," you whispered in his ear, as if anyone could hear. "Or we'd have to kill them afterward."

He laughed, finally relaxing, just holding your hand and gazing out the window.

You tried too, looking at the passing green grass and buildings, but your eyes kept drifting to him. And your mind is going wild. 

OMG what you’ve done, and what's happening here.

You and Steve had only met two days ago on the training field at midnight. Both of you were suffering from insomnia, and what began as a friendly, slightly naïve conversation to help each other sleep turned into the best night of your lives. 

And now... this.

Well, you weren’t sure what "this" was. 

After that night, he walked you to your room, kissed you goodnight, and probably went straight to read your file. 

Then, the next thing you knew, he showed up at your secluded lab and kissed you like there was no tomorrow.

Until your boss/friend Mr. Stark interrupted you from heading a home run all the way, by calling to remind you there were cameras everywhere and that PG-18 scenes should be saved for after hours or, better yet, off-campus. 

He also kindly reminded you that the meeting both of you were expected was in 20 minutes. And just in case you "got carried away and lost track of time," his words, he sent the car.

After a few seconds of silence, as you try to make sense of things, Steve suddenly realizes: "I don’t even remember what this meeting is about."

"It’s not a meeting. Technically, it’s a... how’d you call it? Hmm... an opening ceremony?" You repeat the words Tony used when he walked you through it. 

"Important people from important groups are coming to visit around, and to make peace after the Blip. They’re deploying their heavy hitters, so all our level 3s have to be there."

"And you’re... level... 2?" Steve asked, trying to recall. He had read your file but only focused on some key details of your past, not the present.

"I’m a level A," you chuckled at Steve’s 'is that even a thing?' expression and explained, "Just like Peter Parker. I have access to everything, as long as Tony wants me to."

"Oh... and... why do you need to be there?" Steve wanted to know more, but as the car approached the destination, he could see people walking toward the grand hall.

"Well, I’m not expected by the guests, but by Tony. And you know what they say: the most dangerous place is the safest. After all, I’m not exactly on their 'white list'..."

You saw his expression change, and he tightened his grip on your hand. "You shouldn’t be hiding. You didn’t do anything wrong."

"I didn’t?" You looked into his eyes, and he didn’t know how to respond. He hadn’t had the time, or the courage, to read your full file. He was just following his instincts about you, his feelings, and his heart.

"But still, I don’t think they’re ready for 'this'." You gestured to your intertwined hands. 

"And this shouldn’t be the topic of today’s conversation. I think this event is more about ‘how we’re friends again with the Avengers’ or ‘world peace is our only priority,’ kinda stuff…"

That made him laugh. He leaned his head back against the seat, muttering softly, "I wouldn’t care if they saw us."

"Eventually." You smiled at him. "And there’s something sexy about keeping it a secret, Captain." You sit in closer. "I like it." You blinked, motioning to the people passing by the car. 

"When they’re out there... and they don’t know... about this." Then you leaned forward to give him a kiss.

Steve’s body tensed at the touch of your lips, so you immediately pulled back, thinking you were pushing too far. 

"Yeah you are right, I’m sorry, they might have seen us..." You nervously glanced outside. "Although these windows..." and before you could finish, he grabbed you by the shoulders and kissed you deeply and fiercely, leaving you breathless.

"You’re right," he whispered, his voice low and ragged, as he bites your lower lip. "It is sexy. I love when you do things like this...it drives me crazy..."

“Oh…” your face was burning: “That’s settled then.” And you see the car is about to enter the parking lot arriving at its destination: “Can we do that again?”

Steve let out a loud chuckle before leaning over and kissed you gently: “Yes ma’am.” 

To be honest, he doesn’t know what he is doing either.

As soon as Steves leaves you – You’ve finally decided to enter the compound separately, but not before he kissed you deep and hard in the elevator – His mind starts to clear. Senses are coming back to him.

As one of the greatest military tacticians in history, Steve acknowledges your past: a Hydra experiment, held captive your entire life until your escape and rescue; he knows you weren’t brainwashed, but borned and raised under Hydra’s control, and yes, he met you just two days ago.

His reasonable mind is making a lot of rational thinking as the military savant he is, and his strategies have always been like complex webs of logic, each thread delicately woven to ensure victory, while his enemies find themselves ensnared before they even realize it.

So yeah, he should be analyzing you, reading your file, investigating your past, predicting your moves—or at the very least, watching you closely to see if any remnants of Hydra remain.

But instead…

He can’t take his eyes off you.

You were steps ahead of him, and he felt like seeing you through those large professional lenses, where all the background is blurred in macro, drawing circles of light, and only your silhouette is sharpened.

You were smiling and nodding to people saying hi to you, a little bit shy, somehow oddly adorable... He was in awe. Some folks saluted you as if with…respect? He observed quietly. He even saw a lab guy saying to his teammate something like 'omg she said hi back to me'.

What's your superpower, Steve wondered. 

He’s sure he never noticed you before (how could he have missed you?), and he's certain you’ve never been on a mission together.

Suddenly, someone with a lab coat runs by your side, all excited as if they've drunk ten coffees in a row. 

"Dr. Lancaster, Dr. Lancaster? I figured it out..." He shows you an iPad, and Steve can see how everyone around you is pretending to be minding their own business but is actually listening to the conversation.

“…If we could modify the energy matrix in the arc reactor, we could potentially bypass the Coulomb barrier altogether…we can be talking about cold fusion without the magnetic confinement…!” The lab guy seems all over the clouds.

“Oh.” You look surprised yet shy, you sweep your hair back: “um…How do you plan on stabilizing the reaction without the electromagnetic field imploding?”

“I knew you’d get it!” The tech was so excited he nearly dropped his glasses: “What if we shift the reactor’s frequency to align with zero-point energy fluctuations?” He was jumping all over the place: “The Casimir effect could, theoretically, counterbalance the repulsion long enough to initiate fusion. No magnetic field required!”

“You wanna um…tapping into the vacuum energy of the quantum field to power the reaction?” You look amazed but concerned: “I mean, sure, theory holds, but the amount of energy you’d need to harness would be… astronomical. How do you prevent runaway entropy?”

“If you can artificially create a gravitational lens, focus the zero-point fluctuations and keep them from destabilizing. That’s how I did it.” A voice chimes in from behind. 

Tony, hands in his fancy suit pockets, shrugs and taps his watch. "Five minutes everyone, or you'll miss the warm-up act."

When everyone hears the big boss, they start walking faster toward the compound. 

Tony glances at you and the lab tech. “Test that theory using vibranium as the containment medium. It can store large amounts of kinetic energy without degrading, so you won’t vaporize this whole place. The first prototype is broken and used, so…we can get another one. And honey…” He turns to you and, with a glance at Steve, sighs in irritation. “Ugh... forget it.”

Tony walks past Steve and whispers as they head inside, "Ten minutes late. That’s a first."

“And worth every second,” Steve replies, giving you a final glance, smiling as he notices your blush.

“So... what’s her talent?” he asks once they’re a bit further away.“Being super smart?” 

It sounded sarcastic but he was super serious. Steve might’ve once thought being smart wasn’t a superpower, but after witnessing what Tony and Bruce can do, he now knows it’s one of the most powerful things of all.

“Yeah ‘smart’ is not even close, ‘brilliant’, or ‘magnificently intelligent’ would be the right words, and also…not that’s that important, but um…” Tony makes that typical ‘not a big deal’ face, trying to play it off.

“She…um…She possesses bio-synthetic ocular emitters that generate and manipulate high-frequency electromagnetic radiation across a variable spectrum, allowing her to penetrate solid matter and perceive stratified atomic structures and molecular compositions in real-time, facilitated by a neuro-integrated quantum processing cortex that reconstructs layered 3D imaging at the subatomic level with unparalleled precision."

Tony winks at Steve. And then rolls his eyes and says: “She’s got some kinda X-ray vision that lets her see the layers and components of things.”

“Couldn’t you just say that…”

They walk past the people and head backstage, where the team and a bunch of other people are waiting. Steve knows they won't be able to continue the conversation due to all the smart chat they'll need to do with these VIPs, so he stops before entering the room.

He needs to ask the most important question.

“Why did you keep her? Nat said you went through hell to keep her out of the feds' reach. Why?”

Tony raises an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smirk. Oh, Rogers, you’re falling hard, huh? He blinks at Steve. 

“Do you want me to be brutally honest?”

“Don’t I always?”

Iron Man started counting: “First, I genuinely think that someone with those powers would be highly prejudicial and harmful if she is on any side but ours. Second, I like her, well, not in the same way you like 'like' her...…but she is good, she is…” He tries to find a word: “Selfless. That makes me nuts, cause when you have no human ambition, what you gonna do to be a keeper, right?  Aaaand third, she asked. So...”

He shrugged his shoulders and started thinking aloud and spoke quickly as Tony always does. “You know what? This is perfect, yeah, so…I’ve struggled…no, never mind, this is perfect. Yeah ok, we gotta go…” 

He tilts his head toward Pepper, who’s staring at him. “Before I get locked out tonight.”

Steve has a hundred more questions, but when he sees Maria giving him the same look Pepper is giving Tony, along with all those important suits waiting, he gives in. “Yeah... right. The heavy hitters.”

The "heavy hitters" weren’t just important people from important organizations. 

There was the Secretary of Defense, a bunch of senators, generals and colonels from the U.S. Army, the National Security Advisor—whatever the title is—Wakandan generals, CIA directors and their agents, and a whole lot of U.S. soldiers.

Steve was impressed, not by their presence, but because he had completely forgotten this event was on the agenda. And the reason for that? You.

Yeah the whole speeches, panels, interactions were just as you said, about ‘how we’re friends again with the Avengers’ or ‘world peace is our only priority,’ blah blah blah, Steve wasn’t even listening. Who gives a damn.

His thoughts were elsewhere.

He was focused on you, and his mind was a mess.

So you can see through solid objects, huh? Does that work on people too? Do you see him as a walking skeleton? Is your power what makes you so smart, or were you always brilliant and Hydra just added the ability? Are you free tonight? What did you mean when you asked if he “considered taking this thing further”? Further to where? To like a date, or further as…forever?  Is that a love bite on your neck? Did he do that? God, you look stunning with your hair like that...

“If your gaze were a lightsaber, that poor girl would be ashes by now,” Natasha whispered as she leaned over to Steve. “Would you stop? It’s really weird.”

Steve chuckled, trying to put on a serious face, but he couldn’t help himself. He glanced at the speaker on stage, doing his best to focus.

It was a struggle, though. From what he knew about you, you came across as socially naive, unworldly even, with a deep trust in others. He was tempted but didn’t want to do anything that might feel like he was taking advantage of your vulnerability.

But…he’s doing it again, staring at you from afar, you look so adorable, damn it. Your hair is still a little messy, standing in the crowd and biting your thumbnail like a bored student waiting for the bell to ring.

You caught his stare, your eyes flicking up, and Steve couldn’t help but smile at you. He mouthed a ‘I miss you’, and your heart raced so fast you dropped your phone. Someone passing by picked it up for you, and you probably mumbled something like “'ank you” cheeks blazing so red you couldn’t even make eye contact or finish the sentence.

Steve forced himself to look away, but the grin wouldn’t leave his face. His expression must have been strange because even the speaker started to turn red. 

Natasha nudged him with an elbow, and they both smiled at the poor guy, who was now panicking under the combined stares of Captain America and Black Widow.

“Hey…” Steve overheard a voice behind him.

“Do you know who that girl is?” The guy who picked your phone up—some military man—was talking to his teammate, he was several rows behind and talking low but Steve could hear it anyway.

“Who? Where?” his companion asked.

“That one, I just picked up her phone. There…in the second row.”

“Oh! That one? That’s…” The team mate teased: “…someone completely out of your league.”

“Shut up.” The guy chuckled: “I’m gonna give it a try anyway. I’ll ask for her number. Damn that’s the most beautiful girl I’ve seen.”

Ok. Steve clenched his jaw. Fuck chivalry. He was done worrying about your social skills. Maybe it was time to take your advice and take things further. Or he could have Jarvis or Friday change your number...

“I bet you don’t get it.” A third voice joined the conversation. "Hoskins is right, Walker. She’s out of your league."

Did he just said, Walker? Steve’s eyes widened as his fists tightened.

“Yeah John, first round you don’t get it.”

“Well…” John laughs, “Guess you’ll be buying two rounds for me and my date tonight.”

In your fucking dreams, Walker. Stay the fuck away from my girl. Steve pulled out his phone. Not even thinking about how you’d gone from "who is she?" and "what are her powers?" to "my girl."

A message from an unknown sender just popped up on your screen.

"What are you doing tonight?"

You frowned. Who is this?

You usually don't give your number to others. Mainly because you don't actually know your number (you don't have enough social events to bother remembering it). Plus, it’s in the public records for investigation departments, in case someone from work needs it. Cause who else would need it?

You glanced around. A few colleagues were watching you, but none gave any obvious signs of being the sender. 

Just in case, you replied: "Testing in the lab." The task Tony had given you earlier sounded promising, and you’re eager to give it a try.

"Can I join you?" The reply comes almost instantly. Must be Dr. Lin then—it’s his discovery, after all. Makes sense.

"Sure." you reply.

"Anything you’d prefer for dinner?"

Oh. No, wait. Now you're uncertain. When was the last time Dr. Lin had anything but organic food? The guy counts calories in every meal since you’ve known him.

"Who is this?"

Steve let out a loud laugh, and everyone stared at him, especially the speaker on stage, who was in the middle of a serious and tragic speech and was going through the emotional part.

"Stop it." Natasha shook her head, warning him in a whisper while smiling at the speaker. "Just stop it."

Tony rolled his eyes in the front row. Ugh, lovefools.

But Steve couldn’t stop laughing, and he didn’t stop messaging you.

"I’m your date, if you’ll have me."

"Oh. Mike? Sorry, I didn’t have your number."

His laugh stopped.

"Just kidding, Cap. I’ll have whatever you want ;)"

Oh damn, you got him. His heart leaped back into place. Steve looked up and spotted you, blushing as you put your phone away. He felt like giving a big smile but held back—for the poor speaker’s sake, who had already been tortured enough.

"A date it is." he replied. He considered adding an emoji, but nope—he didn’t know how that worked.

So, "whatever you want", huh? What should he bring? Did you mention anything about your preferences the night you met? Italian? Chinese? Thai? Japanese?

"Is there..." he asked Nat, his voice low enough only she could hear, "any good takeout within five minutes?"

Natasha was about to answer when her phone buzzed with a message from Tony: "Tell Rogers to knock it off." 

So they both put on their best serious faces and listened to the rest of the speech. Luckily, it was short, and Steve applauded harder than he should, just to make up for his weird behavior throughout.

"If you go straight to her." Once the whole thing was over, Natasha said softly in a voice only he could hear, "it’ll be too obvious. And Tony and Rhodey will shoot lasers from their eyes to your ass, stay put, this is important."

"I know." Steve smiled, shook hands with some senator, and stuck around for a bit of small talk, though his attention was elsewhere. 

He spotted John Walker approaching you. So moving without drawing attention, Steve shifted the group he was with closer to you.

He hated to admit it, but John Walker? The guy was fine. In that military uniform, with all those badges, he could probably charm any girl—if this wasn’t a hall full of superheroes. Steve listened carefully through the room’s noise, trying to catch your conversation.

Of course, you had no idea.

You didn’t know someone was nearby, standing and staring at you. You were too busy smiling at your phone like an idiot.

"Excuse me. What?" you asked when this guy repeated himself. The hall was full of chatter, so you had to get closer to hear.

"John Walker, ma’am." He flashed a bright smile, but you weren’t looking.

"Oh." You recognized him as the guy who picked up your phone earlier, and a blush crept onto your face as you recalled how clumsy you’d been, dropping your phone because Steve had smiled at you. 

"Oh... yeah, um, I’m Ilithyia, Ilithyia Lancaster. Thank you for that... Captain?" You weren’t sure about his rank, guessing based on the uniform.

"Nice to meet you, Ilithyia, Ilithyia Lancaster." He widened his smile, mistaking your blush for something else, and shook your hand. "Well... since I rescued your phone, any chance I could get your number?"

"Aw!" Steve’s hand suddenly clamped down on some poor guy’s during a handshake. "Quite a grip you’ve got there, Cap."

 "I beg your pardon." Steve forced a smile through clenched teeth, still listening to your conversation.

"Oh..." Now you were blushing for real. "Um..." You were trying to figure out how to get out of this awkward situation. 

Not only because you didn’t know your number, but also because you didn’t want to give it to Captain Walker. 

You thought fast and came up with the first lame excuse that popped into your head.

"I can’t. " 

You look at him with your most innocent and serious face. You sound so sincere and genuine.

"It’s confidential."

Steve let out a burst of laughter. That’s my girl. The senator in front of him—yes, the same one he had been teasing through the whole event—went pale. He was telling another moving story about his experience during the Blip when Captain America giggled. 

Tony threw an arm around Steve’s neck and mumbled in a warning tone: "What. Is. Wrong. With. You?"

"I’m so sorry." Steve hurried after the poor man, trying to keep a straight face. "Come on, Senator Kingsley...I’m sorry…" 

As soon as John Walker’s attention shifted to Steve, you took a step back and mumbled something like, "Um... Nice to meet you, Captain Walker. Gotta go."

"Yeah, what? Yeah, sure..." Walker turned around, but you were long gone before he could come up with a smart reply.

Of course, you had to go—you had a date.

Two hours later, the idea was still circling in your mind. But...

"What am I wearing?" you suddenly blurted out.

"...What?" Dr. Lin looked at you, confused. "Now? A white coat…" 

He was just in a very inspirational speech about the theory of a quantum anchor to handle subatomic fluctuations when you interrupted with that.

You thought for a second, then decided you didn’t give a shit about the possibility of opening a wormhole that could deviate spatial-temporal coordinates or create a cascading paradox that unravels dimensions as you know them. You cared more about the upcoming date.

It was not just a date, it was the date.

So you took a deep breath, looked at your colleague seriously, and said, "I have a date, Dr. Lin. And I don’t know what to wear because I’ve never had one."

"Oh..." Dr. Lin looked you over. "That’s not a surprise, Dr. Lancaster." He whispered something like, "We should have known... you live and breathe only in this lab... just like your plants."

"I don’t have... anything." You spread your hands. "He’s coming to my lab in a few hours... should I...?" burn all my clothes and buy new ones? No way you’d make it in time.

"Well." He gave you a ‘what are you gonna do’ face and circled you. "Mm... not much we can do, actually. Here, lift your hair. No, not all of it, leave some strands. Yes..." He took off your glasses. "Do you have lipstick? No?! You don’t? Girl... GOD. Um... okay."

He rummaged through his bag and pulled out a chapstick. "Here. This is cherry. I don’t know... um... oh, and this!" He handed you a bottle. "Put this on."

"What is this?" You opened the tube, sniffing it. "Perfume?"

"Better. This, Dr. Lancaster, is the Felix Felicis of perfumes."

"Like... in Harry Potter?"

"Theoretically, this is a chemical liquid compound that exhibits adaptive olfactory reactivity, dynamically modulating its molecular structure upon detecting neurochemical feedback from the subject's sensory receptors, thereby... transforming into the individual's most psychologically favored aromatic profile." He grinned like a proud scientist.

"So, it’s a magic liquid that becomes your favorite scent when you smell it?"

"Not favorite, Dr. Lancaster. The most arousing smell." Dr. Lin’s eyes lit up as he introduced his invention. 

"Girl, put this on, I guarantee, he’ll be all over you. And call me Robert, I beg you.”

"Is that..." You raised an eyebrow. "Is that even legal?" And this was Steve you were talking about—the guy had senses times four.

"Oh come on, just use one drop." Dr. Lin dabbed a bit on his finger and tapped it on your neck. "There. I don’t think he’ll even notice, but just in case..."

"Oh. Okay." You still didn’t know what to expect.

"Look, I’ll leave you to it then." Dr. Lin—no, Robert—gathered his things. "Enough testing for today. And you’re gonna tell me all about it on Monday, okay? Oh, and Dr. Lancaster..." 

He glanced around your lab. "This is perfect. Private, secluded... just make sure to put away all the explosive liquids you have around... ok? See ya!"

“Oh.” You glance around too. Yeah, that’s a great point, you nod as you wave goodbye to a very excited Dr. Lin, still not having a clue what you’re supposed to do. So, you do what you do best: you work.

You do a little bit of cleaning, organizing; the place looks amazing, at least from your point of view, and since you had time, you start another round of testing.

You don’t even notice when Steve walks in, with the sunset sky behind him and the first stars rising in the north. He’s carrying a basket, and his breath is taken away by the sight of you standing at your workbench, bathed in the warm light of the setting sun, turning the whole room into a glowing, serene golden rose.

He stands there for a while, just watching, taking it all in.

“Cap, are you coming in anytime soon?” you ask, adjusting the metal pieces of the robotic arm. 

“I’m really hungry and tired of pretending I’m so cool with robotics here.”

Steve laughs and sets the basket on the table before wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your hair. “Hey.”

You inhale deeply, finally letting go of the breath you’d been holding since you heard his footsteps. 

“Well, that’s not gonna do.” You smile and give him a proper kiss on the lips. “Yeah, now I’m recharged.”

Steve grins, holding you tighter as he kisses you back. “Yeah, me too.” He deepens the kiss. “God… you smell so good.”

Oh wow. You open your eyes as you return the kiss. Did Dr. Lin’s magic elixir really work this fast?

Well, then there’s a good chance this could go further, right?

Of course he’s taking it further.

Steve doesn’t know what’s come over him. 

Maybe it’s because he’s been thinking about you all day. Maybe it’s because he was so mad and determined to be with you after that punk tried to make a move on you. Or maybe it’s just you—you have this unknown thing that drives him wild.

It's the way you move, the way you smile or talk or breathe or just… exist, that makes him unreasonably and madly… in love.

You finish dinner (a unanimously voted menu by the whole team—who knew the Avengers were so bored?), and are just starting on the cold white wine when he tries to wipe some ice cream from your lips. The next thing you know… you’re all over the couch.

Well, you started it, you think as he hovers over you. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have bitten his thumb when he was caressing your lips, or maybe you shouldn’t have breathed so heavily while he was kissing you and roaming over your body. Maybe you shouldn’t have whispered his name like that… but oh god, who cares? It feels so good.

“We should…” Stop. Steve tries to pull out his rational side, but his hands are far too busy running down your side, lingering on your hip.

“Go to bed?” You’re panting and shivering, your hands on his neck and his back, trying to pull him closer. “There’s, um… a bedroom right at the back, and… it has a beautiful garden view.” As if that mattered now at all.

Steve lets out a soft chuckle, resting his head on your neck. Then, after a pause, he lifts himself slightly, creating some space between you two.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just… there’s no coming back from that. Are you…” He gasps, caressing your face. “And if we don’t do anything, it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

“And…” You sit up straight, looking at him, intrigued. “How… how do you feel about me?”

“It feels...” He thinks for a moment, intertwining your fingers with his and giving you a soft smile.

“Correct. Right. Complete.” He kisses your fingers, then looks up at you. “You make me feel complete.” He paused: “And you?”

You stay there for a moment in silence, glancing at him.

“Like…”

You try to describe it with nice words but you can’t.

“It's like my heart is so full, I can’t take it anymore…” You inhale as if you're feeling it right now and smile. “Like all the stars have fallen to one place and are shining too brightly.”

There's a moment of quiet before Steve speaks, his voice soft, like making a wish.

“I wish I’d found you sooner. I wish… I could’ve spent all the years I’ve been here with you.”

“This is perfect.” You kiss him with a smile, gentle and devoted. 

“Everything is perfect.”

He smiles and kisses you back, gently cupping your face in his hands, his touch filled with tenderness and love. But as the kiss deepens, Steve feels like he's burning. 

Everything about you is a vortex of sensations: his mind fuzzy, your warm body in his arms, your hair smelling of white roses, your sweet breath, your lips, and your tongue. He pulls you closer, one hand sliding down to rest on your hip, rougher than before, his lips moving more insistently. He doesn’t want to stop; he needs to feel more of you.

“If you’re not stopping…” He hesitates. “I don’t think I can …”

“I don’t want you to.” You sit on his lap, holding him close, fingers in his hair, whispering.

Steve lets out a shaky exhale, his voice a little rougher than usual, his gaze locked onto you like a lifeline.

“Are you sure?”

“…Steve…” Your voice is almost a plea. “Please don’t make me beg…”

And that does it.

Steve lets your request override any other thought. His tongue explores your mouth, hungrily claiming it as his own. One hand grips your hip, pulling your body flush against his. His mind is a mess, tangled with desire and excitement, everything around him melting away except for you. He leans into you more, guiding you back until your hips hit the nearest wall, pinning you there.

“Where's the bed?” he whispers in your ear. You stretch out your arm and point in the right direction.

“Hold on tight.” He smiles as he carries you to the room at the back and can’t help but awe when he arrives.

“Oh, so it was true. It has an amazing view.” He admires the floor-to-ceiling window with the garden in full bloom outside, bathed in a violet and blue sunset.

You laugh between the pillows. “Would you mind… saving that for later?”

Steve chuckles as he comes back to your lips and your arms: “I’m sorry…” his fingers follows the line of your body, pressing one in your waist and the other interlocking with yours: “I promise nothing will distract me from you now…” 

He was feeling the surge of his powers –  everything was enhanced: the scent of you on the bed sheets, the shivers running through your skin at his touch, the way your hair brushed against him, and the intoxicating sound of your voice…his body was reacting accordingly, and it was impossible to hold back. 

Especially when you kicked off your clothes and he could feel the whole of you: your skin silky and warm, the jasmine scent from your bath lingering. He was utterly lost in lust.

He feels his heart racing, his breath coming in short gasps, his hands guiding you with slow, deliberate movements, trying to hold onto some control despite the intensity of his desire. 

He interlocks your hand with his, while the other holds your face. He can’t look away from your gaze as you wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer, sparking a wildfire of need within him. He whispers your name against your lips, his voice thick with hunger and longing.

“I don’t think I can’t hold back any longer…”

You gasp, drowning in a whirlwind of emotion: “Please don’t hold back…anything...” And you feel him to complete you, his fingers entwined with yours, murmuring something before sealing you with a kiss.

The moment he was in you was overwhelming, but you wouldn't recall the pain.

You were filled with sensations, having his lips in your ears, the fierce pressure of his fingers interlaced with yours, his body as close to yours as it could possibly be. Every centimeter of your being was united with his, melting into his warmth.

You felt him everywhere. In the intense gaze he held as he moved in a pace to match your pleasure, in his low moans and groans,in the droplets of sweat falling from his body onto yours, in his shivers and trembling, in the way he pressed his hand in your waist and marked every movement as he was lost in lust.

“God…” 

Oh no, Steve was not lost, he was drunk in a haze of pleasure and need. 

He had this urge of possession, hunger of dominance, mixed with the overwhelming and insatiable need of you.

He looks at you. Your watery eyes glistening with pleasure and desire, your moaning lips, red and swollen, naked body covered by a thin sweat and marks he left in your collarbone, in your shoulders and breasts, you dig your fingers into his skin, the sounds of your moans filling his ears and driving him even wilder.

“Please don’t stop…” 

God that begging tone of yours, he just can’t take it, he needs more.

“Steve…” You whispered again, your hands cupping his face. His breath mingled with yours as he leaned in closer: “please…don't stop…”

Steve moaned, his brain short-circuiting momentarily at your words, the sound of your voice begging it drives him wild with need and desire. 

He tightens his grip on your hips, his movements becoming rougher and rougher as you beg for him and you are lost in his fastened paces, and he knows you are close, the moans that’re leaving your lips driving him mad.

“Babe you are driving me insane…” He can't hold back his low growl as you whisper in his ear, his movements becoming more urgent and rough as he pushes you harder, his hands gripping your thighs tighter as he gives you what you ask for, pulling you closer and closer, and he can’t help to moan as he looks at you reaching your climax: “Yeah baby that’s it…I got you…” 

You gave in as he kissed you and the bed knocked so hard against the wall, Steve’s senses are coming to an edge too as you finally reach the limit, your moan is the most perfect and most pleasing thing he’s ever heard. 

He murmurs your name on the verge of losing control, so you press your whole body to him as helping to be there, Steve’s mind suddenly goes blank as the pleasure takes over, every sense, every nerve ending consumed by ecstasy. 

He cums long and warm inside you, and that alone makes you feel you could come all over again. 

His words strangled groans of pleasure. He looks down at you, completely at your mercy, eyes hazy, filled with pure, unadulterated ecstasy as he tries to speak, but you seal his words with a deep kiss. 

“That was…” His breaths came in hard and fast: “That felt…”

“Complete.” You finish the sentence for him.

Complete. He used the right word. That’s how you felt. 

He laughs and falls on top of you, cupping your face and kissing your chin, removing stands of sweaty hair from your face. 

His chest is rising and falling rapidly as he tries to catch his breath, his body still quivering from the intensity of the orgasm. 

" I... I've never experienced anything like that…You were incredible…You're incredible…"

You were panting too. But you were also reacting over his kisses.

Oh damn, Dr. Lin’s felix felicis worked just fine.

“So…um…” You couldn’t catch your breath: “You do have…Saturdays off, right? Does…the Avengers get that? Weekends?”

“What?” He was already laughing when you asked, but still nodded: “Yeah I have time…”

“And…how fast does your serum work? Do you need to like…some hours to recover?” 

“What?” Steve can't help but let out a laugh at your question. You marvelous, adorable, perfect girl. You are the woman of his dreams. 

He leans in to kiss you. Yes, complete. That’s definitely the word. He had never felt this way with anyone before, but when he was with you, everything seemed to align, as if the universe had conspired to bring you both to this moment, to this connection. He felt like a lost star in the universe finally finding its way home.

“Hours?” He kisses your neck and starts to go down: “babe…you might be a genius...but I really need to show you how this serum works for me…hours? Please don’t underestimate me…” 

His hands starting to caress your body, cupping your breasts and leaving a trace of kisses, feeling you reacting at the same time that he was getting hard again, still inside of you. 

You let out a soft, deep moan, your body responding instantly to his touch, your eyes lost in lust again.

“Steve…” 

He loves that begging moan, he was so ready to hear it again. And he was going to make you to do that all night long. 

“The night is young.” He positions his hands in your waist, holding you tight, as he presses himself again inside of you, harder than the first time, his eyes locked on yours as he speaks: “And I’m glad for it.”

“Dr. Lin? um…Robert?” You knocked your colleague’s lab door on Monday, with a gift basket and a bottle of wine.

“Heeeeyyyy…” He was so happy to see you, Dr. Lin just turned around from his chair with a curious smirk: “Soooo? How was it? The mysterious date? I can tell you are satisfied…” he was practically singing. 

“Well…” You blushed slightly. 

The “date” has lasted the entire weekend. 

For the first time in your life, you were thankful for the body Hydra had given you, enough to endure and enjoy a weekend of endless lovemaking. 

You think you lost count of your orgasms by Saturday afternoon. But then of course, Sunday was also off, even for the Avengers. So you carried on. 

“Ahem…!” You cleared your throat, offering him the basket with the wine. “I’m just saying the Felix Felicis worked... as expected, even with just a drop.”

“Oh.” Robert's expression shifted. “Oh my gawd, I’m going to hell for this... Honey?” 

He patted your hand as he took off his glasses. “There’s no such thing as Felix Felicis…”

“What?”

“Yeah I lied…It was just a joke.” He made a ‘Sorry, not sorry’ face: “It was just perfumed alcohol.”

“Oh.” You were surprised. “Um... still... that’s just...” 

Wonderful. You couldn’t help but smile, handing him the basket anyway. 

“Thank you so much, Dr. Lin— I mean, Robert. Really, thank you.”

“Ohhh…you’re blushing,” Dr. Lin winks at you. “You look like someone who just discovered the meaning of life.” By going out of that lab and finally having human contact, and not dying there like a potus, he thinks to himself.

You grinned. “Maybe I did.”

“Well, whatever it was, keep that glow. It’s contagious,” he said with a wink before turning around and continuing his work.

“I’ll try my best.” You nodded, smiled at him, and headed back to your lab. You were in the hallway when you received a message from Steve.

“Miss you already,” with a heart emoji.

You sighed and smiled. 

Maybe it wasn’t Felix Felicis, but magic did exist—and it was real every time Steve looked at you like you were the only thing in the universe that mattered.

End but TBD

Yay! That's a wrap on Chapter 3! ❤️ Thank you for reading so far. I apologize if my English isn't perfect; it's not my first (or even second) language.

I hope I got through the intensity and love that was intended. (At least at their first time, should be more about making love than fucking? If that makes sense...?)

Anyway, don't know where to place the timeline, but definitely is after Endgame and everyone is happy and alive, aaaand the fact that John is here with Steve in the same place, makes it more interesting :3 (I just love writing jelous Steve)

Hope you liked it! Every feedback is highly appreciated <3

Love.,

Moon.

P.S: Chapter names are all related to dream states ;) I'm posting something every friday :) So see you next friday!!!

[r0-boat]

Whb Amy Headcannons(+Sitri)

Random sfw&NSFW headcannons

Nothing pisses Amy off more than being treated less than his rank, He knows he's strong so he wants to be treated as such. You have ever are the only exception as much as he hates being babied You're the only one with the privilege In fact he craves it. It's like a wild tiger or lion purring and meowing as you run your fingers through his hair. He craves your touch and acts like a golden retriever when you're around. It pisses Sitri OFF because to him Amy is some vulgar animal that needs to be put down and here he was getting attention from the human he tends to be very possessive over.

Good Lord Levi would be proud from the amount of jealousy and envy seeping through him right now. And in turn Sitri gets more violent against him which probably disgusts you and babies him more. a constant cycle. Amy has caught on and is not helping citri turned his favorite teacup into dust from the way Amy smirked at him when you held him into your arms.

Scary dog privileges. He doesn't care if it's a king from another country or their subordinates. He will glare them down and growl like a beast only for you to turn around to see him smile pleasantly at you.

Sitri has deleted Amy's contact from your phone so many times that you've memorized it and has it written down somewhere.

As much as he cannot stand the idea Amy touching you he'd rather be in the same room trying to wedge his way in the middle then think about of what he and you might have done to each other.

Humans like gifts right? What do humans like??? He's never thought anything about love or romance and now that he likes you He's trying so hard to court you. Amy is not really good with words So the most he'll do is just give you gifts standing there awkwardly his face red and his eyes to the ground as he clutches of bouquet of crushed flowers in his hand. (He squeezed them too hard)

Absolutely melts for compliments when you say a compliment to him he starts brushing it off and degrading himself as if he doesn't deserve that compliment or he yells at you for being embarrassing. But he secretly loves it.

Is the kind of boyfriend that will let you do anything to him. Whether it be braiding his hair painting his nails or doodling on his hand. Piemon would be so jealous because Amy would never let him do that He truly does have a soft spot for you.

Amy is also prone to jealousy but his jealousy is not violent or intense hatred like Sitri's He just gets really needy and clingy hoping you would give him attention. Looking at you with puppy eyes. (Gehenna is just full of needy lap dog demons lol)

Nsfw

unlike Sitri, Amy is very gentle with you in bed out of a fear of somehow breaking you hurting your killing you. He will get better at this in overtime start treating your body more roughly if you want him too. When he had sex with Solomon He was not gentle and he tries to explain that you are not your ancestor. You are smaller softer and much different and he's afraid to hurt you.

Amy loves when you ride him, You're small human body squeezing around him as your hands scratch and hit him feels so good.

Yes it's no secret that he has a humiliation kink And he doesn't have enough courage to ask you to be mean to him like Sitri does.

Amy is Actually a little shy when it comes to sex. He looks at you as if this was the first time he's ever seen a naked body His eyes wide and full of hunger lust and wonder His large hands and fingers gently tracing over your naked body trying to memorize every little inch.

After he's first had to taste of you He could never go back constantly hard all the time thinking about you reducing him to a desperate mess reading into his blanket and pillows pretending he's inside you.

(Amy switch supremacy) from Tiny human over him treating him like shit hhhh please dominate him he'll be such a good boy for you too desperate animal fucking you full of his hot cum.

[awkward-tension-art]

Order 66 (tbb x Jedi!reader)

Ok, so i’ve had this idea in my head of the clones with a Jedi S/O during Order 66. I don’t mean they act on Order 66, I mean if everything sorta played out similar in canon (Chip doesn’t work)

Idk, I like me some protective boys.

CW: minimally proofread, jedi!S/O, Reader, Gender neutral pronouns, Order 66, violence, death, swearing, Hunter trying his best, Wrecker being a sweetie, Echo is ready to fight, Tech is the only one who is level headed, and Crosshair being somewhat emotional

You were following Caleb when the order came through. Your steps stumbled and your knees hit the cold ground. All around you, the Force was being ripped apart. Hands were on your shoulders. 

your lover. You barely realized through the haze.

With absolute horror, you watched helplessly as clones gunned down Depa Billaba. “Run Caleb!” You heard her scream through the overwhelming grief and death you felt. The padawan turned, lightsaber ready. 

“Get away from us!” he barked, calling your name, “Get up! Please!”

He was panicked, confused. So were you. 

You managed to look up, seeing the clone troopers across the field standing over Master Billaba’s smoking corpse. They were prepping to kill you and the padawan next.

Without another word you bolted, grabbing Caleb’s hand and sprinting to the trees. You didn’t look back. You had to make sure the kid was safe.

Hunter

“Wait!” He’ll give chase before stopping at the tree line. He had never seen you look so devastated and afraid. 

He’s going to follow you. Of course he is. He’s just as confused as everyone else. 

Until Tech finally finds out what's going on

“The Jedi have been ordered to be executed.” “Which one?” “All of them.”

“What!? Why!?” Hunter is panicked at this point. The troopers behind him have orders to kill. They won’t show you mercy. 

“Apparently they’ve committed treason.”

By the time he finds you, Caleb had already jumped across the ravine and was waiting for you. You turned, tears in your eyes.

“I can feel it…everyone is being killed.” 

“We’re going to figure this out,” He’s going to try and calm you down, “I promise, we’re going to figure this out.” His arms are around you. 

It wasn’t safe for you. Not anywhere near him and the others. He knows this. You know this. 

The two of you come up with a hurried plan.

“Go to these coordinates. Once we know what's going on, I’ll come find you.” He’ll kiss you passionately, “Get the kid and hide.” 

Hunter won’t go with you. He’s the squad leader. He can’t just go missing. 

Despite the fear that you’ll be found out, he trusts you and your skills to stay alive.

Once you jump across, he’ll watch, make sure no one follows or tries to shoot at you. 

Once he’s questioned on your whereabouts, he’s going to lie, “I managed to stab the kid and shoot the Jedi. both of them fell into the water.”

I will say, his nerves are shot until he gets to you again. 

But in the meanwhile? He’s antsy. Anxious and a tad distracted.

Also a hairs trigger from snapping.

Crosshair badgers him at Kamino and Hunter barely holds back a punch.

Hunter loves you, so damn dearly. And right now he can’t protect you because he needs to figure out what the fuck is going on.

But, after finding the truth and getting Omega, he makes a damn beeline for the coordinates he gave you.

Plus side? Caleb and Omega become friends.

Echo

What the FUCK just happend!?

He sprints into the trees to keep up, ignoring how Hunter is calling his name. 

“Echo, get back here!” 

“No.” He will cut off his comms. 

He’s an ARC trooper, he can track you to a degree. He’s not like Hunter, but he gets to the general area where you are. 

He manages to get to a clearing where you and Caleb are hiding in the trees. 

“Cyare!” Echo is clearly confused, worried and he swears he feels the same amount of death that’s overwhelmed you. 

Once you reveal yourself, his helmet is off and his arms are around you so tightly.

“I don’t know what's going on, but I’ll keep you and Commander Dume safe.”

Hunter and Crosshair catch up to you, and once Crosshair aims his blaster at you and Caleb, Echo is ready to brawl. 

He stands protectively in front of you, gun aimed at the sniper, “If your skinny ass doesn’t put the fucking gun away I swear to-!”

“Both of you stand down!” Hunter will have to get between them, because Echo is 100% willing to shoot Crosshair if it means you stay safe. 

He’s not aware Crosshair doesn't exactly have a choice at the moment.

Really no one is aware.

But he’s lost domino squad, he’s lost Fives, he's lost legion, right now his former general is probably being killed…He’s lost so much already.

He refuses to lose you too.

So Echo pulls the trigger first, settling on stunning him and making a dash towards the ravine. Hunter has to keep up.

Once Caleb is across, he’ll get meetup coordinates from Hunter.

Echo goes with you. He doesn’t return to Kamino. The moment he's across the ravine with you and Caleb he’s a deserter. 

He doesn’t care. He just doesn’t want to lose you.

He’s a strong, determined guard, and one who didn’t let you or Caleb get hurt.

Wrecker

He casts a glance at Hunter before running off after you. 

He has no idea what Order 66 is. Nor does he care.

The guy saw you so…out of it. So scared and confused.

His protective instincts have geared up to 11. 

Hunter goes with him, while Crosshair is the one who remains behind to stall.

Once Tech informs everyone that the Jedi have been named traitors and should be executed on sight, Wrecker gets serious. Very serious. 

He becomes so unlike himself, even Crosshair is surprised.

Honestly? I see Wrecker as someone willing to gun down any ‘reg’ if they’re threatening his squad or s/o. 

Even this early into the Empire.

When he sees you, he’s immediately grabbing you into his arms which causes Caleb to attack.

Admittedly he’s gonna tackle Caleb, only adding to the poor kids terror. 

“Wrecker, you're scaring him!” 

But after a strong bear hug and an “Easy kid! I’m tryna help you!” The padawan calms down enough to listen. 

He puts Caleb down, rips off his helmet and gives you one hell of a kiss. 

He’s worried. He’s scared. And he wants to protect you. 

Hunter will have to talk him down from running off with you.

The sergeant has to keep his squad together. It sucks but they need to figure out what the heck is happening at the moment.

Wrecker desperately wants to go with you but he can’t abandon his squad.

However, he feels much better once Hunter gives some safe coordinates to lay low and hide.

He’ll get you to the ravine and stand guard until you and Caleb are across and out of sight.

You bet your ass when he meets up with you again he’s not letting you go. 

Tech

He isn’t as emotional as the others at the moment. He’s actually focused on gathering as much information in the least amount of time.

He waits, listening to the comm chatter. What is going on? why?

“Execute Order 66.”

After a second, he shares a look with Hunter.

“Tech, go after-”

No more words need to be said. Tech is gone and going after you.

He’s smart. He knows your patterns. He knows where you’d most likely hide. So he focuses on that.

Once he’s confident he’s in a broad area where you and Caleb are, he’s going to call out to you, “Cyare? There’s something called Order 66 on the comms.” 

Tech gives you information first. He won’t make you reveal yourself if you don’t feel safe enough. 

When Echo announces that the Jedi have been charged with treason, he’ll relay that to you. 

“The comms say the Jedi committed treason against the Republic,” He’s going to keep looking around for you, “I know you. You’d never do such a thing. I’m here, Cyare. I can help you.”

Once you reveal yourself, Caleb behind you, he feels the biggest amount of relief. 

He pulls off his helmet, giving you a small smile.

“Tech…The Jedi…” your voice cracks, “They’re being killed…I can feel it.” 

“I know, Cyare…I’m sorry.” He tries his best to comfort you, but he knows he can never understand. 

The amount of Jedi he’s worked with can be counted on one hand. 

But he knows this is your family. Your friends. Your very life.

Once Hunter meets up with you guys, a plan can be put in place. 

He gives you coordinates for a location to meet-up and hide. You’ll lay low with Caleb.

In the meantime, Tech will return to Kamino, figure out what's happening, and from there a better, more long term plan can be made.

Before you leave though, he’s going to give you the longest, most passionate kiss he's ever given you.

He’s well aware that there's a chance you can be found and killed. 

Tech is the only one who has accepted that you may not make it out of this.

But he’s going to keep his mind occupied, distract himself until he’s by your side again. 

Crosshair

As soon as the order goes out, Crosshair is under the influence of the inhibitor chip.

He just doesn’t know. No one does at this point.

He watches you run away with Caleb and the drive to hunt you down is hard to ignore.

He needs to find you to kill you, to protect you.

But, the sudden headache he has is damn near blinding.

Crosshair follows Hunter, keeping his comms on.

He freezes when Tech finds out the Jedi have been marked for execution.

The Inhibitor Chip in his skull is contending with his feelings for you.

He needs to execute save you.

When he spots you he pulls his rifle and aims but barely manages to stop himself.

He can’t hurt you. He needs to kill loves you.

Crosshair draws some sort of conclusion that Kaminoans had conditioned all clones to follow specific orders.

He doesn’t know of the chip. He just assumes it comes from the troopers' conditioning.

When his arms are around your body, for a brief moment he thinks of snapping your neck.

Good soldiers follow orders.

He hates orders.

This is the point where Crosshair knows something is seriously wrong with him.

But he’s not going to say anything yet. He can still fight if need be.

“You need to run…hide…get away from here.” it's a rare moment that he’s scared.

The sniper is desperate to shoot protect you.

The headache is persistent, and it’s somewhat distracting.

But he’ll power through.

Crosshair will wait for Hunter to come up with…something. 

His eyes are on the area around you, gun set to kill in case any reg tries anything.

The plan? Clone Force 99 returns to Kamino while you and Caleb go into hiding. 

You have coordinates. He can find you later. 

But…well Crosshair doesn’t like that. At all.

Hear me out. Like Echo, Crosshair goes with you. He knows somethings up with him, but he trusts himself more than he trusts anyone else.

“Tell Kamino they killed me.” He instructs Hunter, “That I died trying to stop the Jedi and you managed to get justice.”

He crosses the ravine with you, only looking back to nod back to Hunter. 

By the time Crosshair, you and Caleb safely get off the planet, his headache is a small annoyance that goes away with time.

Crosshair sticks with you until he reunites with his squad and notices Omega

Welp, you got Caleb, what's one more kid?

[vidavalor]

Hello lovely! I'm wondering if you have any thoughts about Maggie in Final1 5? Isn't it weird that she wants to go back to talk to Az and Crowley while Nina's working? Something about it feels off to me.

Hello right back. 💕 There's chamomile mint tea and shortbread since we're on a Maggie theme, if you'd like some. Maggie's behavior from that scene on is super fucking weird, I agree.

Before the milk run-- when Maggie becomes the only involved character whom we lose track of a bit during The Final 15-- versus how she behaves when she returns is so strange as to be something that I consider maybe additional proof that things are not at all what they seem to be in The Final 15.

On Maggie and Crowley's weird Final 15 behavior, a possible meaning to all the allusions to robbery in S2, and what Maggie and Nina might be able to tell us about what happened at the end of S2.

TW: brief mentions of show's non-consensual possession/rape analogy.

Think for a moment about how truly weird Maggie's request for her and Nina to go back to the bookshop in that moment actually is...

It's only been a matter of minutes since Maggie and Nina were basically hostages in the bookshop who were almost killed by Michael and Saraqael. Crowley saved their lives in getting them out of the shop maybe, what? It's been a minute since I rewatched that bit of it but it couldn't have been more than 15 minutes prior?

The beings in the shop but for Maggie and Nina are supernatural and so left magically without using the door but while we the audience know that these people are no longer in the shop because we were watching it, Maggie and Nina do not know that. When Maggie suggests to Nina that they go talk to Crowley and Aziraphale, they have no way of knowing if the beings that just tried to kill them are still in the shop. They didn't even see Aziraphale leave with Whoever Derek Jacobi Is Playing yet because Nina was all "where's the other one?" to Crowley when they arrived back in the shop.

Maggie is literally like: Nina, I know you opened the business you own late and are the only one working right now and have a line of 20 people waiting for their morning, pre-work coffee but what if-- just hear me out-- we just made them wait an indefinite amount of time to voluntarily go back into the place where we nearly died a matter of minutes ago that could still be full of the people who wanted us dead and we did this for no other purpose than just to tell off my beloved adopted godfather and his partner, who just risked harm to save both our lives? And to maybe then also stick our noses into their love lives in return or something?

I mean... WHAT?!?! lol

Consider, even, how even more weird that is when Maggie, just *prior* to having gone to the mini-mart, had never been more on the same page with Nina and never more understanding?

She sacrificed her own want to go sleep behind the counter of her shop to offer to help Nina. It's a big moment of change in their relationship and shows a lot of growth for Maggie. She's gone from someone who is caring but has a tendency to only think about how things make her feel to seeing things from Nina's perspective. She's matured through the season into being someone more ready to be a partner to Nina. Maggie offering to help Nina with her morning rush-- and Nina accepting the help-- is the sweet, romantic moment showing that these two are heading in a positive direction, both individually and together.

When Maggie gets back with the milk, though? After she's been out of our sight for a few minutes? She's behaving very differently.

During S2, Maggie is shown to be a pretty guileless character. She might have the occasional judgemental moment but she's not deceptive or tricky and she really wouldn't hurt a fly. When Maggie comes back from the milk run, though, her insistence on Nina dropping everything and going with her in that moment is not just weird behavior but manipulative in a way that could not be more out of character for Maggie.

Nina has been in an abusive relationship where she was afraid of displeasing Lindsay. Maggie is aware of this, as it's been the subject of multiple conversations between them throughout the season. So, when Maggie gets so bizarrely insistent on Nina dropping her work-- her livelihood, her purpose, her job-- to meet Maggie's demands in that moment? When this isn't an emergency of any kind and isn't at all time-sensitive and there is no objective reason why Nina should be halting her job to do what Maggie wants in this moment? Maggie is being controlling in a Lindsay-like way. She keeps at it, knowing that Nina will give in and agree to go with her because Nina is used to doing that with her partner.

Nina hesitates and isn't sure whether or not to go with Maggie for a moment and I don't really blame her? This is the complete opposite behavior to Maggie before she left for the mini-mart. Maggie is suddenly acting quite a lot like her polar opposite-- the Lucifer-and-Heaven-paralleling Lindsay.

Maggie is also literally on Nina's shoulder like a devil the whole time in the scene in which she's convincing her to step away from the shop and go across the street with her to the other shop for a chat and...

...listen to what we just said there...

...it's a parallel to the thing that Whoever Derek Jacobi Is Playing is doing with Aziraphale, is it not?

So, what happened on the milk run?

Who did Maggie run into at the mini-mart that we couldn't see in the ending of S2 without it giving the game away? I wouldn't be surprised if, on this mirror-happy show, on the other side of learning in S3 that it was The Devil with the coffee in the bookshop in The Final 15, we also had a scene that showed that, while on her milk run, Maggie had a run-in with Sister Teresa's killer.

Did Hastur possess Maggie as part of Satan's plan? Was the idea to use Maggie and Nina to further trip Crowley and Aziraphale towards disaster to get Aziraphale? If so, it kind of half-worked. I'm not convinced that anything Maggie and Nina said to Crowley really mattered-- I think they weren't telling him anything he didn't already know or feel and that it's largely misdirection for the audience. What was effective, though, was the impression Aziraphale got upon seeing them leave as he was coming in.

Maggie and Nina being back in there at this weird time and then rushing out with smiles and comments like that they were "just leaving" and they were sure Crowley and Aziraphale had "a lot to discuss" seem to have led Aziraphale to assume that Crowley had asked them to come back and to the conclusion that he must have done so to tell them of his intent to ask Aziraphale to marry him. It's Maggie and Nina leaving the shop that reinforce to Aziraphale the idea that, when Crowley stands up afterwards, takes off his glasses, and says he supposes he has "something to say", that Crowley is only trying to communicate a proposal and not a plan.

It's what helps-- big time-- to lead Aziraphale to not listen for a shred of coded language for the entire scene. Neither he nor Crowley are listening for that with one another, which is why neither of them can truly understand what the other is saying, but Aziraphale's part of that is really fucked to Hell by the presence of Maggie and Nina in the shop when he came back. That's all pretty suspicious since Maggie was out of our sight for a few moments and came back fixated on the idea that she and Nina needed to go to the bookshop right that very moment and that it couldn't wait.

The Final 15 is a dark parallel to The Baby Swap plot and Maggie and Nina are full of shadows of Sisters Mary and Teresa to a point that the final shots of both of them in the series are mirror images of the final shots of their S1 characters. Nina looking through glass at Crowley departing is the last shot of Sister Mary both in 2008 and 2019, while Maggie's last shot?

To me, it's one of the most eerie moments in the entire series because of how much it visually resembles Sister Teresa's death.

Basically two minutes after we hear about The Second Coming... in the same season where Maggie and Nina's partial-vavoom gives way to a (possessed?) Gabriel saying: the dead will leave their graves and walk the Earth once more... we are shown Crowley and Aziraphale's apparent adopted goddaughter unresponsive on the counter of her shop.

Is Maggie dead?

Is Maggie asleep, like we were led to believe she wanted to do earlier in the episode? Maybe. Is she comatose/unconscious? Maybe. It's just that, best I can tell, she does not take a breath during the shot which I feel had to be intentional on the part of Maggie Service, and she's in the same position as we last saw Sister Teresa in S1...

Then, there's the robbery theme and how Maggie and Nina foreshadow so much of the end of S2 back in this scene here:

In Good Omens, the shop is the character. Maggie is, symbolically, the records she sells. The show also explains that Maggie's shop used to be a part of the bookshop. Now, there are three characters, not two, who are A.Z. Fell & Co.: Aziraphale, Crowley and Maggie. At the same time, Aziraphale is also The Small Back Room. The shops are intertwined as the characters are, essentially, family in the story. The fate of one is the fate of the other, which makes what Maggie and Nina foreshadow when talking about Maggie's shop while trapped together in Nina's not just the fate of Maggie's shop in S2 but also of the bookshop.

Maggie says that if she can't close the door to her shop, someone could walk in and take records. Maggie is the records she sells so, symbolically, this means someone could take Maggie. We got a bit of a preview of that when Shax appeared to get into her mind during the attack on the bookshop and Maggie also became the one who unintentionally "let the robbers in."

These robbers, Maggie frets... they could empty her till-- take all her money on a literal level... take her mind, or maybe even her life, on another. (Not to mention the now chill-inducing use of money-related words and coins with regards to the paralleling Crowley...) These robbers could take forcible ownership of Maggie's shop-- so, of Maggie. Maggie's shop was born of the bookshop... so, they could take forcible ownership of the bookshop, too.

Not just the physical bookshop, though that, too. The symbolic bookshop. Which is not only Aziraphale but Crowley and Aziraphale.

But, if The Small Back Room was originally part of the bookshop, then the bookshop really isn't just Crowley and Aziraphale-- it's Crowley, Aziraphale and Maggie.

If the robbers come for the bookshop, they've also come for The Small Back Room because it is all born of the same, symbolic shop.

Is that what they did?

Is that why Maggie is last shown to us non-responsive in her shop?

Now, Nina's even more foreshadowing reply:

Nina said that, if she owned a record shop, she'd be more concerned about "someone breaking in and leaving more records behind."

What are records? They're the literal records in the musical and old film sense that Maggie sells, yes, and also Maggie herself. They're also books, like what Aziraphale sells, and Aziraphale himself. But they're also a third thing that's very much of note in S2.

They're also the life's work of a scrivener, like what Muriel does.

Nina foreshadows someone breaking in and leaving "more records behind"... which is exactly what happens in The Final 15.

Elspeth's graverobbing. Bildad stealing Job and Sitis' wine and food. The 1810 Clerkenwell Diamond Robbery. Aziraphale having the missing Shakespeare Robin Hood play in the box in 2.06. The robbery-based fantasy Aziraphale was telling Crowley in Lockdown: ...the other night, when a couple of young lads broke into the back and tried to steal the cash(cache)box!

The Final 15 is a robbery.

The last two episodes see the shop attacked during The Meeting Ball and into the next morning. Aziraphale is robbed blind of his entire life. Characters are taken hostage. Signals for help are tried and fail. The cop, it turns out, was a stooge for the robbers. Whoever Derek Jacobi Is Playing broke in through the open door and robbed the place blind, as Maggie foreshadowed. As Nina foreshadowed he would, what did the robber leave behind?

More records. Muriel.

To rob, as we know, is to steal. It's to plunder or strip a place from someone through force and/or violence. That is why it was once, in addition to being descriptive of physical goods stolen from a person, also a word that was used for rape, for which non-consensual possession has been analogous since the show's first episode. That is why some of us think that the music goes insane on the look to Crowley in the scene below. Satan is robbing Crowley-- forcing him to identify him as The Metatron to Aziraphale and the angels and to let Aziraphale go alone with him.

Satan attacked Crowley in front of Aziraphale and, while Aziraphale pretended he didn't see it, he did, which is why he led "The Metatron" straight out the door in an effort to get him away from Crowley. Because, speaking of characters behaving very weirdly... anyone have a better explanation for why guard dog Crowley sat in that chair like he couldn't get out of it and encouraged Aziraphale to go alone with a guy who once tried to kill them? It just doesn't make any sense unless his words are not really his own and there's only one character we've seen do that to him.

And if Crowley's not the only one behaving out of character, then what else happened to Maggie at the mini-mart but something similar?

What happened in The Final 15? Satan robbed the bookshop.

He and The Metatron don't give a toss about the shop itself and plan to destroy it alongside everything else once Armageddon gets rocking. They're there to get Crowley and Aziraphale out of the way for Armageddon by dividing and conquering. Just because we've yet to see blood doesn't mean this wasn't robbery by force.

Satan took hostages at the start-- letting the ones go he didn't care about go and keeping the ones most likely to influence the shop's owner: Crowley and Muriel.

Satan and The Metatron sacrificed Muriel to their plan, not caring if Muriel explodes along with the shop when they kick off Armageddon a matter of *checks watch* basically any minute now after S2. We think Muriel is better off in the shop at the end of S2 but I'm not totally sure they are. I think it actually might be one of the most dangerous places to be in right now. The bookshop didn't burn down this time-- it was burned as safe space in every possible way. It's a crime scene.

The Metatron and Satan are here for revenge. The Metatron is letting Satan have Aziraphale to get Crowley and Aziraphale out of the way for Armageddon. There is no real job offer-- it's all Satan tempting Aziraphale into falling. Satan's revenge on Crowley and Aziraphale is to force Crowley to help him take Aziraphale right out from under his nose. That's the start of it, anyway.

Besides Armageddon and daring to have a relationship and a sense of self outside of the demonic collective of Hell what is Satan really pissed at Crowley and Aziraphale about?

His kid. Adam. Crowley and Aziraphale helping Adam against him.

If Satan has been lying in wait, still very, very angry at Crowley and Aziraphale for turning his son against him and if he's now here for revenge, then who else besides Aziraphale is then most in peril here?

Yes, my Job-and-Sitis-paralleling poppet... your big, cross duck and your kids are most imperiled here and S2 showed us that your kids are not just humanity writ large but, specifically, Maggie. The Small Back Room is of the bookshop that is you and Crowley. Maggie is your Adam. Will Satan come after your daughter? It's a concept posed in your paralleling/foreshadowing story earlier in the season... actually, it was also the entire plot of that paralleling story earlier in the season as well...

I feel like not going with Ennon and Keziah's theories on Satan's behavior is probably the best way to form a Good Omens theory 😂 so I'll stick with the idea that Satan very much would dare leave a revenge body count of Crowley and Aziraphale's adopted kids, as the Job minisode proved he'd do even with the spawn of "God's favorite human", let alone anybody else.

As, speaking of foreshadowing lines, this is really even more S2 than it was about S1:

Satan will even have a whole pseudo-philosophical chat about it with you first, amused that he's standing in a place called Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death and ordering a coffee while the plan is likely for this place, the women making him the coffee, and everyone on this street and on most of the planet to be dead by tomorrow.

Maggie is the only character who actually asked for coffee using that exact word in S2.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

STEVE SINGING OLD IRISH SONGS TO HIS BABY JUST LIKE HIS MOM DID FOR HIM

I physically need to hear Steve softly sing Báidín Fheilimí while slowly rocking a sleepy little one

I think it’s canon that Steve is the son of Irish immigrants, so he absolutely speaks at least a little bit. Maybe he learned the songs from his mom, and now he’s singing them hoping to be half as good a parent as she was

If you're curious to hear the song, like me, here's a version I quickly found on YouTube performed by na Casaidigh (there's also English translation in the description)

JESUS CHRIST

Y-E-S.

You are so fucking correct. Steve needs to sing softly (in general, I would kill to see that on screen) in his native tongue to the tiniest newborn swaddled tight, looking extra little in Steve's big and protective but endlessly gentle arms while Bucky sleepily watches from the doorway, leaned up against the wooden frame, covertly wiping his watering eyes. I need that. Because, yes, exactly, Steve's a mamma's boy and would be truly an unfairly incredible parent.

It's definitely canon that Sarah Rogers, at least, was Irish and immigrated to America. I believe Joseph Rogers was an American soldier who was, then, American. That may or may not be canon and probably depends on the comic run you're looking at? But-! Yes, I've heard lots floating around about Steve and his Irish heritage.

Along with that, I've seen lots of posts about if Steve was speaking Gaelic at home or not, if Sarah would've risked that at the time or said fuck the man. I tried to find one in particular that delved into Steve's Irishness and his disability, mentioning that with Steve's hearing being weak/absent in one ear, he likely would've struggled with pronouncing words, and that would've been added to if he were speaking Gaelic at home, adding to his accent and likely getting him bullied at school, but... I couldn't find it again :(

(This post about gaeilge is the closest I could get, and it is still a great post!)

(Or this, about other languages)

Plus, touching on Sarah Rogers and more posts I've seen but can't track down because Tumblr's search function sucks, I've even seen posts going around that say according to certain comic runs, there is talks about/hints at Steve being born on the boat coming over from Ireland in international waters, so... just something to think about.

Personally, it just adds fuel to the fire that burns within me, knowing that Steve is absolutely not the blindly patriotic, conservative-coopted symbol who is projected in non-fandom spaces. Steve is not loyal to a country but to a set of morals and beliefs that make him stand up for what's right. And that's what I love about him--that is what would make him the same great kind of parent that Sarah was for him.

Apologies for the mini rant, haha

[2802sen]

Arei's case, problems with three main suspects

CH2 EP14 DRDT SPOILERS, obviously

This post is basically just my thoughts about things that I find weird. I'm not a theorist, I don't analyse things very hard and I can miss out important things, so if I do miss something serious here please tell me.

Let's start with the reasons why I think the killer is not Eden or Ace.

For Ace, the biggest reason is- how could he know about Eden and Arei's conversation? Of course, we know he can be quiet and all, but in that situation he just physically couldn't be not noticed by Arei (when she entered the room) or Arturo, when he left. It's also the reason why anyone besides Eden and Arturo being the killer doesn't make any sense, but I'll return to this later. I also doubt that he was the one who took the tape, just because... Well he was kinda trying not to die in the moment, plus he was holding his neck with the hand that was closer to the tape, no? I'm not even talking about how he was unconscious and filled with bloodlust. Ace also doesn't really have a place (like pockets) where he could keep it. But it would be weird even if Eden took the tape in the moment when Ace woke up, simply because Teruko would notice it. So... What exactly happened? I assume that when Ace woke up he accidentally kicked the tape, so neither him or Eden took it instead it just got tossed aside and that's the reason we don't see it after "I'm not fucking dead" scene. It's still there, just not somewhere we can see. Although I do think that someone took it later.

Next, Eden. I do not believe she is the culprit not because of the evidence, but because killing her right now would be very weird from the narrative standpoint. Not just because of that one Terueden scene, no, even without it I think it's illogical. Do you really think she would die after the fork CG? Do you really think they're just gonna... Leave us with this? It's also about the cast balance- it's already told that everyone here hates each other, but Eden is the only one who could actually fix this (yeah, Whit could try but.. his jokes are NOT helping, I'm sorry). And now when David is trying to make her the primary suspect in Teruko's eyes, when Teruko is genuinely trying to trust her, killing her would be very weird.

Now, who is the third, and with all I wrote above, the most suspicious person? Of course, it's Hu. The only thing I find weird with her being the culprit is that I don't see why Nico would lie when they tell us about how they tried to kill Ace (if someone has thoughts about this, please explain). Although I also don't believe that they were telling the truth. Why?

But in episode 6-

Because of this. According to their words, Teruko and Eden noticed them when they were only thinking about cutting Ace's neck with the wire, and in the fake closing argument it's also showed- no blood on the wire, but Teruko and Eden are already there.

When Teruko and Eden walk in, Ace's neck is already cut and the wire is covered with blood. Is it really just a mistake? I highly doubt that.

Now let's get back to the tape. I mentioned earlier that I do think someone took it, with that someone being Eden.

"Didn't you say you believe she's not the killer?"

I still do. The reason I believe she took the tape is not because she's the killer, but because Hu asked her. We know that she told Eden about the clothes, so isn't there a possibility that she also asked her to grab the tape, since the gym and the changing room are close? With that, Eden could've grabbed the tape when Teruko was talking with MonoTV, right before it kicked them out. It doesn't make a lot of sense, but... It's at least something, I hope.

Besides everything that I wrote above, Hu is more suspicious with the glove thing, that were already mentioned by many other people before me, I think (it's at least more than one person). And now I will get back to Eden and Arei's conversation, that I mentioned as proof of Ace's innocence.

"Yeah, how Hu might have possibly knew about this? Isn't this also proof of her innocence?"

Yes aaand no. I won't go into details, since @demodraws0606 (whose theories actually inspire me, so I want to thank them) explained how Nico might've heard the conversation in their post. If what they wrote happens to be true, then I can't think of any other reasons why Hu can't be Arei's killer.

That's all, I think. Again, I am not a theorist and I do not analyse things as much as I really should to write posts like this, so if I'm missing something- I would really appreciate it if you tell me.

[4ngels0uls]

i wanna be your lover, i don’t wanna be your friend…. M.S

don’t like? don’t read.

summary: y/n loves matt so much, till she makes a mistake and just ends up confessing… making them to end up having sex.

paring: fem!reader + bsf!matt

warnings: SMUT, use of y/n, friends to lovers, confessing, being embarrassed, abusive relationship (not physically), toxic relationships, a big trigger warning!, manipulation, disrespect, strong language,

a/n: i was listening to this song and thought of this.

————————————————————

y/ns pov

“hey matt?” you yell for him as your in his room and he’s in the kitchen, grabbing a drink. “what?” he yells back. you don’t answer and he sighs. he walks over to his room with the cup of water in his hand. “what do you want?” he asks as he walks over to his desk to put the cup down. “i’ve been talking to this guy and he wants to meet up but i’m scared… does he look like he would kidnap me?” you show him a picture. “nah.” he answers dryly. “are you okay?” you ask before he just walks away.

that’s when you realized…. you fucked up.

————————————————————

“i’m going to go matt…” you tell him as your going to to get ready to meet that guy. “kay.” he answers dryly again. you sigh and walk out the door with your stuff as you walk to your car, digging in your bag for your keys. you find them and open your vehicle and start the car and drive off.

you get home, pulling into the driveway. getting out your car as you walk into your house, locking your car doors. you take your shoes off in the pitch black house. you lock your door and turn some lights on as you walk to your room. you go over and get some clothes ready for you to take a shower, till you begin thinking about matt and how dry his answers were when you showed him the picture.

you flop back on your bed, crushing the clothes that you just put nicely on the bed. you stare at your roof and sigh, thinking you fucked up the whole friendship with matt. you genuinely like matt… like more than a friend but you’ll know it’ll never happen to you begin to find other guys, like this one that your texting in this exact moment. “i can’t wait to see your beautiful face.” the guy texts you.. alex is his name as you remember.

you met him in a party once, he was drunk… like very, and he asked for your number and it went off.. you guys didn’t even fucking remember when you traded numbers. but here you are, texting him that you’ve been waiting to see him, while you broke matt into pieces without even realizing.

you showered, done your makeup, and fixed your slutty outfit you have on. you walk over to your body mirror and check yourself out. you smiling and go and get into your car and drive off to the restaurant you are going to.

that’s when you walk in and see him, alex….

biggest mistake ever.

“hey alex.” you smile as you walk up to him. “hey y/n.” he smiles as you guys sit at a table and… next thing you fucking know he’s drugged your drink but you didn’t even know. your in his bed, naked… and now your dating…

few weeks later

he’s been manipulating you and cheating on you left and right. you know you made a big ass mistake as you try to text matt and he immediately tells you to block him. “w-what..?” you question. “i said fucking block him y/n!” he scolds. “i-“ you try to speak. “shut the fuck up before i break your phone!” he yells. fuck… you text him secretly. “i love you matt.” before you block him.

he’s typing right before you hit that red button that says block. you sigh, trying not to cry. “stop fucking crying like a big baby, bitch!” he yells. that’s when you begin to get anxiety from his yells, but that’s when you decide to hide it since you’ve been hiding your emotions for years..

it’s been 2 months since this incident.

you’ve been missing matt, he’s all you think about.. but if alex known, he would have tried to kill y/n.. that’s why he’s asleep. fat shit always fucking sleeping. you took his phone and remembered his password, you open his phone and look through his messages, you start to cry.. “what the fuck…” you sob quietly. you throw his phone and get up and grab a bunch of shit of yours and leave his house, taking your car keys you found as he keeps you home by hiding your keys.

that’s when you know… that’s fucked up and you should have never been to dinner with him. you immediately hop into your car and the first place you think off is matt’s house. and you hope that chris or nick doesn’t answer and it’s matt that does. you arrive and pull into their driveway and go up and take a deep breath before knocking on the door.

and exactly who you didn’t want to answer.. it’s nick. “nope fuck that!” he yells before trying to slam the door. “wait!l you yell. “i need to talk to matt.” you tell nick. he sighs. “matt!” nick yells before going up the stairs. you wait for matt and he opens the door a bit. “y/n?” he says quietly. “matt.” you say. “why’d you block me.” he asks. “he made me.” you says and matt knows immediately. “come on.” he takes your hand and drags you in.

he takes you to his room, some new stuff, and some stuff gone. “are you okay…?” he asks you as he sits you down on his gaming chair. “kinda.” you answer quietly. “ya look cold.” he says. “yeah i am…” you say. “here i’ll go get you a blanket.” he walks off, and comes back with a blanket. “here.” he says as you wrap yourself up with the blanket. “s-so like… what ever happened?” he asks me. “oh.. uhh. you know that guy that i showed you? yeah well we started dating and he was apparently manipulating me, cheating, and being disrespectful and just rude.” you say.

“oh i’m sorry…” he answers as he doesn’t know what to say. “it’s not your fault.” you say. he gets up and hugs you. you sit shocked for a moment and begin to hug him back. he picks me up and lays down with me on his lap. “you know y/n… i’ll always love you.”

so tell me that you love me again..

you smile at his words. “i’ll always love you too.” you mumble. he rubs your back. you sit up a bit and you guys both lock eyes. he takes a glance at your lips then right back to your eyes. you lean in slowly and you kiss him, as he immediately returns the kiss back. you pull away. “oh my god… i’m so sorry.” you say, after realizing what happened.

“it’s okay.” matt says as he pulls you back to him by your waist. he wraps his arms around your neck and begins to hug you. he pulls a bit away from the hug and stares into your eyes. he kisses you softly, closing his eyes as he holds your face. your instantly kissing back.

he rolls you guys over, now he’s on top and your on the bottom. he grins against your lips. he runs his fingers down your body, slowly. his touch effecting the fuck out of you. you watch his fingers get to your inner thighs. you look into his eyes and he smiles. your eyes on his as his eyes are on yours. “your so pretty.” he mumbles softly. you try not to smile as he talks. he smirks as he watches you try not to smile.

he watches as he runs his fingers to your thighs. he gets to your waistband. he looks into your eyes, for consent. “you okay with this…?” he asks. you smile and nod. he pulls your pants to your ankles, then they fall to the ground. he smiles softly at the tiny fabric covering you. you sit up and take your shirt off, also revealing your bra. “needy, hm?” he smirks. he kisses you back reaches behind your back and unclasps your bra in the back. he pulls the bra off slowly as he kisses you roughly.

matt pulls away and stares at your tits, completely out of it as he stares. you chuckle. he leans down and kisses your neck. leaving a trail of hickeys. “fuck your beautiful.” he mumbles on your skin before kiss down to your tits, kissing them.. till he puts your nipple in his mouth, sucking on it. you gasp as you feel his lips latch onto your nipples.

he smirks and pulls his mouth away. he kisses you before his fingers slide down to the edge of your tiny thong. he smiles and his fingers get down your underwear, trying to tease you. his long, thin fingers get to your clit, massaging it gently, making you buck your hips. he chuckles and pushes your hips down and holds them down. he starts to move his fingers faster and you start to moan a bit.

he slides down to your pussy. he stares as he uses the patting of his thumb to fingers your clit. he pushes a light kiss on your pussy, making you gasp loudly. he chuckles and latches his mouth. fucking you with his mouth at this point.

“o-oh fuck!” you moan, tryna be a little quiet since his brothers are home. he smirks at how loud your being, his grin sitting on your clit. then he starts to use his mouth faster, making it impossible to stay quiet. you buck your hips far, making matt smash his nose into your pelvis. he chuckles against your pussy, pushing your hips down for him to continue as you squeeze your thighs around his head.

he goes down to your hole, tongue fucking you now. “fuckfuckfuck!” you moan, feeling your orgasm come closer. matt chuckles “you close?” he mumbles. you nod like crazy, try to keep quiet, squeezing your face together as he tongue fucks you.

you could tell by his eyes, he was fucking pussy drunk. “matt! ohh fuck!” you practically scream before cumming on his face, all of your juices leaking down his chin to his neck. he licks you clean as your sensitive. “matt!” you yell as you squirm. he smiles and sits up and hovers above you. “your so fucking pretty.” he says in a raspy tone before smashing his lips into yours. he kisses you passionately, his tongue grazing your bottom lip as you let him in.

his tongue exploring your mouth. you whine against his lips, as matt swallows your whine. he breaks the kiss as he kisses down your neck, leaving fat fucking hickeys on your neck. “mattt!” you whine because you know everybody will ask. he smiles and kisses you again before undoing his belt on his baggy jeans.

you watch as he fumbles with the belt. he throws it somewhere on the ground before pushing both, pants and boxers down. he cock springing put as soon as he pulls his pants down. you look up at him as you lay beneath him. “what’s wrong?” he asks. “your big as fuck.” you say quietly, BEGGING silently he doesn’t hear what you said. he smiles and chuckle lightly before leaning down to you. he lines himself up between your folds, making you fumble silently. you gasp quietly as the feel the contact.

he smiles widely and shoves himself inside of you slowly. he smiles down as he watches your core swallow his hard cock. he begins to thrust faster, making you gasp loudly. “fuck!” you moan as the bed creeks loudly. he groans softly, moving even faster. you throw you head back in pleasure. “fuck…” he groans as you clench, making him grunt loudly. “fuck sakes… if you keep doing that i won’t last long.” he groans

you begin to start milking him at this point. he’s struggling to not cum right in this moment right now. he starts to think of things that won’t make him finish as fast. but your moans and the skin slapping, echoing in the room is making so much harder. “fuck!” he groans loudly before releasing his release inside you, painting your spongey walls white.

you release right after he does. “fuck…m’ sorry.” he apologizes. “it’s okay. seriously.” you tell him. “you were fucking milking me.” he mumbles into your neck. “i knowww” you whine. he chuckles. he slowly pulls out. he gets up and goes to grab a wet warm cloth, to wipe both of your guys releases off you. he wipes your sensitive core, slowly not to hurt or anything. he throws the cloth somewhere and lays his head on your stomach.

“i love you.” he mumbles, closing his eyes. “i…love you too.” you answer.

————————————————————

a/n

holy fuck i took long to post this.

i’m sorry, been busy. i’ll try to get the next carrington one out as soon as i can😊

THANK YOUS FOR 400😓

[shokami]

babe I need your lucifer morningstar / wriothesley / zhongli / yoUR FAVS HEADCANONS ASAP <333

ONLY IF YOU WANT TO THOUGH!! I love reading your posts! ♥️♥️

COMING INTO MY ASKS LIKE THIS AND TELLING ME TO WRITE IS GOING TO MAKE ME BECOME A FULL TIME WRITER AGAIN. (i’m not complaining, i have so many thoughts i need to get them out)

zhongli

every one tries to uwu-ify zhongli, and i hate it. this man is an archon, one of the oldest. someone who was a warrior. yes, he’s an extinguished gentleman. curtuous, even. i, however, don’t for one second think he’s always like this.

- firm believer that zhongli has to hold himself back, and is quick to anger and frustration, pre current day liyue at least.

- if anyone questioned him, his commands, his leadership, he’d give them a simple look. jaw sat tight, with an expression so unreadable that it would send a chill down their spine, and that alone was enough to silence them.

- in his story quest (i don’t remember if it was his story quest, or an archon quest it was so long ago), he gets aggressive with the fatui when he started to argue. multiple times, he had that look, and stated that “you will suffer the wrath of the rock… you may find it rather unpleasant.” zhongli does not fuck around.

- an aggressive hater of celestia, and the heavenly principals. there were several times post archon war, that he thought about simply handling the issue at hand himself. believed he could, but would be talked down by the other archons, and adepti.

- then the time came where his hand was forced into a contract with the principals. since then, his anger has subsided at least on the external front. every day, he tries to find a way out of that contract without breaking his own morals, and his own meaning as the god of contacts himself.

- now listen. zhongli stepped down from being an archon, but that does not mean he is no longer a god. the gnosis does not equal godhood. while i believe that he did step down because liyue was entering a godless era, i believe he did it for his own selfish reasons as well. zhongli is known for his intelligence, and he knows that war is coming. in one of ei’s voice lines, she states that she believes his story is far from over. i believe that to be true, he has his own plots, and i think he intends to assist the tsaritsa in taking down the heavenly principals. whether it be directly, or indirectly. he’s up to something. he knows far more than he states. his power has not dwindled one bit.

- zhongli hates the idea of erosion, despite talking about it so casually. i think that it terrifies him. that the thought that one day, all of his memories could fade, and that he’d no longer remember. because of that. due to this, the adepti have began to keep journals, or other forms of keeping track of his retellings. each of them have their own version, so that if one day, rex lapis does not remember his own stories, they will be able to remind him bit by bit.

wriothesley

- oh this man has got a past. the orphanage was not pleasant to him. not in the slightest. wrio blames himself for not noticing sooner. not seeing that some children left, and didn’t return. once he began piecing things together, he knew what he was going to do. he couldn’t allow these things to happen, even though he himself was also a child.

- when it came time for him to kill the parents of the orphanage, he didn’t even hesitate. it happened so quickly. it was brutal, messy. a child can’t carry out something clean, and effortlessly. after releasing the other children, he turned himself in.

- wriothesley has ptsd from this, and reoccurring nightmares. not from the murder, but from the children he couldn’t protect sooner. due to that, his sleeping patterns are not good, and borderline unhealthy. instead, he busies himself with work, and fights in the pankration ring.

- now, when wrio got sentenced to the fortress, it was unpleasant for a child. at first. i think rather quickly, he gained the trust of other inmates. inner circles. it taught him quickly about survival. about calculation, gave him cunning traits, and taught him how to deal his cards just right.

- once his sentence was done, he stayed and became the warden. he wanted to change the fortress. i like to think that the warden before him wasn’t a good person, and that the conditions of the underwater prison weren’t great. once he took over, he changed it all. he likes to view it as more of a rehabilitation center, than a prison.

- the scars on wrios neck are definitely from the orphanage, and i refuse to believe otherwise. perhaps something that happened when he first found out what was happening. he confronted the parents, and ended up with those scars from something terrible. it damaged his vocal cords quite a bit (going off that one hc i saw on tiktok awhile ago that i don’t remember where it came from). the scars cause him quite the bit of discomfort sometimes, it’s a mild irritation. that’s why sigewinne tries to give him those gross health shakes to drink. its a remedy for the soreness.

- during his story quest, the traveler asked if he uses the iron fists in his fight in the pankration ring. he said not always, but sometimes you’ve gotta do what you gotta do right? that man is NOT above playing dirty. he’s an undefeated champion in that ring, and when anyone hears they’re facing him, they’re terrified.

- ^ HOWEVER. he’s decent enough to take those he defeats to the head nurse, get them treatment, and ensure they’re doing fine afterwards. in his trailer, we see him giving them handshakes, nods of acknowledgment. he doesn’t fight to be an asshole, it’s to keep the respect, and well- also a distraction for himself.

- now, if i see one more person say that wriothesley is the type to listen to hardcore rock music, i’ll scream. when we are in his office, he put on music that was similar to that of jazz. wrio is a jazz man, classics, instrumentals. it’s calming to him. firm believer that this man would listen to something like sway by michael bublé religiously.

- even though i believe that wriothesley has it in him to be a gentle man, a gentle lover, i can still acknowledge other aspects about him. he’s a flirt. have you seen how confident that man is? he’s shameless. he knows he’s attractive, and he knows how to sway someone so effortlessly. sinful french falls from his lips like it’s second nature, with such a gentle touch that it could have anyone in the palm of his hand and he knows it.

- he’s so busy with the work of the fortress though, that he doesn’t believe he has time for anything that’s actual romance. i’m not saying that he sleeps around (don’t give this man the gojo treatment guys), he simply flirts and sometimes he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. due to his schedule of business in the fortress, if he did end up developing feelings for someone, i believe it would be someone who either frequents the fortress for work, works there directly, or someone who just as much as of a work ethic as him. he needs someone who understands how hectic it is, so that he doesn’t feel neglectful for not being able to supply his full attention to a partner.

- okay my last one for wrio may be a stretch. i’m not 100% sure of the past of the fortress of meropede, so i can’t say if its symbol has always been the three headed dog of cerberus. however, i like to hc that it only became that after wriothesley became the duke. the symbol of cerberus means the past, the present, and the future. wrios past in the orphanage/the way the fortress operated before him, the present day of his control of things, and the future that he sees for the prison and its inmates. cerberus is the gate keeper, a symbol of loyalty, devotion, tenacity, and protection despite being perceived as a terrifying figure to others. i believe that’s how wrio see’s himself.

lucifer

ANOTHER MAN PEOPLE TRY TO UWU-IFY. STOP IT! HES THE LITERAL FUCKING DEVIL YOU MFS.

- lucifer is the original sin. pride. you cannot be the king of hell, and not have your mind plagued in darkness, full of sin, and questionable morals surrounding your duties.

- in the pilot episode, everyone believed that he wasn’t a good person, that he abandoned charlie, that he was rough, that he didn’t care about the sinners, and only wanted control.

let me tell you why, to an extent, that’s still true.

- lucifer tried to convince charlie that the sinners were awful, terrible people. he did not want her involved, and tried to deter her away from the path of redemption for hells inhabitants. he firmly believed that. i think he still believes that, but, he was slightly swayed by charlie’s words and beliefs. after lilith left him, he became secluded. lucifer wasn’t present as a father. right now, he’s trying to reconcile that, and support her despite not believing in her views himself.

- now, i think that part of the reason why lilith left him was due to his views. with how charlie talks about her, she had similar views as her once upon a time. lilith didn’t like that lucifer viewed the sinners as disposable. it angered her, so she left and that hurt him beyond compare.

- how could anyone expect lucifer to have full faith in redemption for the sinners, believe they were worthy of anything? lucifer is the original sin, they exist because of him. how could he face them, have any love in them, when it only reminded him of his failures as an angel, it reminded him of his pain, his tarnishment of his once devine place? he is pride, of course he can’t face them.

- i also read somewhere once in biblical lore, that without sinners, the seven deadly sins powers would dwindle. if people did not have pride, if they weren’t ridden in that sin, lucifer could lose a portion of his power overtime, be weakened. i personally like this, because that’s a solid reason why he wouldn’t want anyone to be redeemed.

- lucifer was abandoned, tossed aside by his father, by his brothers, for what? having a different opinion, wanting to offer different views. in result, it created darkness, pain, it created hell. lucifer is the cause of it. he carries heavy burdens, guilt, eons of trauma. for a millennia, the only thing he has seen is the pain, and the darkness of others in people he tried to defend.

- i need to see his rage, i need to his anger, his darkness, and inside his mind. i know it’s there, and its aching to be released. give me the fight between him and heaven. lucifer is one of the strongest beings in creation, show me his power.

not related to any of that, however!!

there’s a song called whisper by burn the ballroom that i believe fully captures the idea of falling in love with lucifer.

- “so give me your fire, give me your fear, give me your faith when love gives you tears. give me your heart, give me your fate, give me your hand when love gives you hate. give me your prayers up on your feet, and i’ll give you a show it helps fill the seats. so give me your sins, give me your lies, but whisper your love and i’ll whisper mine.” lucifer is so debated after lilith, that falling in love with someone who accepted his sins, his darkness, his rage- it was so foreign. it terrified him of that loss again. he needs someone who understands that depth, his reasoning, his hesitations, his views.

- additionally, the song had a line that says: “and he cries out to god, how could you claim them all when i know that they’re all mine?” this goes hand and hand with my view of lucifer not wanting to redeem sinners for the sake of his power. additionally, imagine how hurt and pissed off he would be when the first sinners get redeemed. how could god, how could heaven accept those redeemed back into the heavenly gates so willingly, but have turned their backs on him with a second of hesitation or his own chance of redemption?

GOD I LOVE LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR

i am so in love with all of these characters, they are so complex, with so much depth and characteristics to analyze. i’m snorting it all like crack 24/7 <3

[allurilove]

“What happened to all the other yanderes that’s not getting a continuation fic?”

Congratulations to yandere boyfriend and reader for graduating, and starting adulthood! Now that they are done with college (well the reader is), they continue to live together. Yandere boyfriend works at a cafe while his partner has a more “adult” job.

Yandere professor hasn’t seen the reader after they graduated. The reader moved back to their hometown, and they lost touch. Yandere professor does check readers social media. It makes him feel better to see that they are doing okay. He can’t bring himself to message them, and he assumes that they have already moved on from their relationship.

Dumb Yandere had gone missing for a couple of days actually. You found him shivering underneath a park bench, and absolutely drenched from the rain. He got lost after you sent him on an errand to go buy cheese. You had a search party looking for him, you got the police involved, and yet here he was. You brought your husband home, ran him a warm bath, and he slept soundly in your arms.

Yandere chaebol hasn’t made it official with reader. They do bang, sleep in the same bed, and occasionally parent his kids together. He doesn’t want to go through the whole marriage thing again, so he won’t propose. Yandere chaebol did apologize to his ex-wife, and he’s sort of on good terms with her now.

Yandere survivor is still following the reader around. He pleads with them to let him fuck them again with his dick that’s on a stick. He tries to woo you, but the reader barely budges. He lost his foot after a human attack, and you made him a peg leg. He’s still alive for now.

Yandere knight almost died multiple times. He had shielded you from an attack. Someone wanted you dead and gone, and he wasn’t going to let that happen. He eats your food to make sure it’s not poisoned (and it was), he double checks every horse to make sure that there wasn’t a bomb strapped to it, and he forced himself to stay awake for months. He would stare at you while you slept, quietly from the corner of your room. Yandere knight was upset that reader was married off to another man, and nearly killed your fiancé. Yandere knight is now in the dungeons.

Yandere prince had killed all of his siblings and parents, except for one. One of them had slipped away from him, and he now sleeps with a dagger underneath his pillow. Yandere prince became a King, and the reader is his queen. Yandere prince is now a father to twins.

Yandere classmate had gone to his dream school. Which meant that someone else had to keep a careful eye on the reader. His trusty butler that had been with him since he was a baby was the one to take care of the reader. The reader is locked away in his house, and hasn’t seen their friends and family in a while. Yandere classmate got back home after graduating, and he proposed to reader.

Yandere neighbor still continues to live right next to reader. He did go on a couple of dates with them, and he became great friends with reader. Yandere neighbor does occasionally still peep into the readers house, and he mentally keeps tabs on all the people that comes and goes.

Yandere farmer had proposed to reader, got married to them, and now their farm has a huge litter of kids. He loves his kids, and he teaches them how to properly take care of the animals.

Yandere mothman has become a permanent resident in the readers home. He has his own room that has a lot of natural light, and it was quite cozy. Even if he can’t mate with reader, his fuzzy dick has made it inside their mouth a couple of times.

Yandere prodigy continues to have wet dreams about his enemy. He doesn’t know how to stop them, and he has even thought about working for a different music group. He knows he should get away from the reader, and he continues to give the reader the cold shoulder. He stays as a nasty little freak behind the readers back, and relishes at any sight of their exposed skin.

Yandere best friend pursued his dreams and he became a chef. He opened his own restaurant after college with the help of his parents. The reader was his first customer, and he has a selfie of them eating his food posted up onto his wall. Yandere best friend and the reader are going steady, and sometimes go on dates.

Yandere camp counselor is still in the friend zone.

Yandere manager is still the readers manager (what a surprise). He is a bit more lenient after the reader proved that they could be responsible, and he lets them drink once in a while. Yandere manager hasn’t made a move yet, and probably never will.

[daydreamerwoah]

Love Through It All Pt. 14

tw: mentions of cheating, mentions of divorce; hurt; angst; anger; rollercoaster of emotion; sadness; arguing; crying; mentions of therapy/counseling; kidnapping; violence; guns; injury; death

Please read Part 1 for my author notes for the beginning of this story if this is your first time here.

For the sake of the story.... let's just pretend that 141 and Laswell worked their magic and Price, Kyle, and Johnny made it just in time lmao! I know that's not how it works in real life :)

You jumped when you heard a loud BANG go off. But it wasn't the sound of Jax's gun that made you jump. It sounded more muffled - more distant - like it was on the other side of the door and down the hallway. You opened your eyes, releasing the breath that you were holding, seeing Simon very much still alive and looking directly at you.

However, the other four men inside of the room turned to the face the door with their guns pointed. Andrei said something in Russian before the two guards walked up to the door. There was a brief pause, as Andrei walked up behind them before one of the men opened it and they left the room.

God, you were fucking scared.

When the sound of multiple gunshots rang outside of the room, you wished you could have been able to cover your ears, the loud popping noises felt like it was deafening you. Surely, you wouldn't be able to hear after that.

In a moment of panic, Jax marched over and stood beside you, pointing his gun at the side of your head. Simon continued to look at you, the chaos not even phasing him. At least on the outside... on the inside, he was worried. Half secretly thanking whatever god there was that Johnny saw the damn text, but half nervous about whose shots were going off.

Then there was silence. Ghostly silence.

The only thing that could be heard were your small sniffles and Jax's heavy breathing. The anticipation of who was about to walk through that door had both you and Simon's pulse racing. But when three sets of footsteps quickly walked in, and you saw three men you instantly recognized, you wanted to let out a scream of happiness. And by the look on your face, Simon knew exactly who walked in, as his back had been facing the door this entire time.

"Let 'em go," Price commanded, his weapon pointed to Jax.

A menacing chuckle left Jax's mouth, "I will shoot her," he said, pushing the barrel of the gun against your temple, making you whimper.

"Let my wife go Jax," Simon said, making the man narrow his eyes at him.

"No," he growled, "You're going to suffer just like we did! All of you! I will kill every single one of you!"

"Then let's talk 'bout it," Johnny chimed in.

Jax threw his head back a little as he laughed, "Talk about it?.. we're done talking. Your nation should have talked about it four years ago! But now..... now you will pay," he quickly glanced at you, holding that evil smirk as always.

The moment his finger tried to pull the trigger, a shot rang out. John's perfect aim successfully pierced a bullet through Jax's head, instantly killing him as his body fell backward to the ground. Simon's body relaxed before Johnny rushed to his friend, cutting the ropes and freeing him, while Kyle ran over to you, doing the same as well as pulling the duct tape off of your mouth.

"You okay?" He asked. But you barely could nod your head.

Your body felt like mush and static at the same time, with the flow of blood finally making its way back into your hands and feet. But that wasn't the only feeling that you had. The second that Simon was kneeling down in front of you, you lurched out of the chair into his arms. You thought you had cried so much that you couldn't produce any more tears, but when his arms wrapped around your waist, you felt so many emotions. The one that topped them all was love.

"I got you, sweetheart. I got you," He said into the crook of your neck.

You couldn't even respond, the only noise coming from you was the slight wailing of cries. It was all too much. And it came crashing down all at once. But you knew one thing... you and Simon made it out alive.

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

141 stood in the conference room while Laswell was displayed on the monitor. It was.. strange - talking about a mission that involved you. At least it was for your husband.

Never in a million years did Simon want to talk about such things like death and evilness when it came to you... but there he was, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed over his chest as Laswell explained everything; the truth.

Jax - whose real name was Leonid - had disguised himself as a British soldier in order to obtain access on base. His main goal was to use Pvt Williams as a means to get personal information on certain individuals... including 141. He had no intention of bringing you into the situation.. even when he sent you the videos. He was a young soldier - a pawn in the bigger picture - and at first, he didn't really want to get any civilians involved. (He had somewhat of a heart at least... or he wasn't as much of a killer as he seemed) That was something they had yet to figure out. But it made sense as to why he tried getting you to leave Simon by approaching you with some bullshit story that day.

But when his superior, Andrei, found out that things were taking a little bit longer than planned, he took over the operation, deciding to kidnap you. The only thing Jax almost begged to do was at least make Simon suffer for cheating on you.

But why did all of this happen? Why did they do this?

Because four years earlier, 141 captured their leader. Their commander.

Vladimir Makarov.

They wanted revenge.

"Nolan escaped. He's still out there Laswell," Kyle said.

When the three of them sneaked their way into the building and came in contact with Andrei and the guards, shots rang out, but somehow Andrei Nolan had escaped through the chaos. He was still out there.... and they needed to plan what was going to happen next.

"For now, we need to make sure everythin' is secure," Price said before turning to Simon, "How's Y/n doin'?" He asked.

He nodded, "Fine."

You were, for the most part. After you and Simon were rescued, you were taken to the hospital on base to make sure everything was okay. You kept telling Simon you really didn't need to go, but he insisted you got checked out. Because of the bruising on your wrists and ankles, they decided to keep you overnight for observation. It was ridiculous and you wanted to leave, but with your husband right by your side, it made things easier.

And by your side, he would stay until Price called him for debriefing. He didn't want to leave... he almost told the guys to come to the hospital, but you persuaded him to go and that you'd be fine. So he left.... reluctantly so. But before he did, he made sure the nurses kept an eye on your door. No one was allowed to go in except him or the doctor.

"Talk to her 'bout the plans yeah? Don't wanna risk us losing her again," Price continued.

Again, Simon nodded before leaving and heading right back to the hospital; to you. When he walked into the room, your eyes were closed. The quiet noise from the TV let him know you probably had been watching it before drifting off to sleep. He sat down in the chair next to the bed as he looked at you, eyes glancing down at your wrist. The purple bruises causing a tightening feeling in his stomach.

You were never supposed to be hurt. By him. By Jax. By no one in the world. You were pure - heart and all. Yet you had gone through more pain than he ever imagined. He didn't think he could live with himself if you had been killed.

With a soft sigh, your eyes fluttered open as you looked up at the ceiling, waking up from your dreamless nap. Your eyes shifted and met those of your husbands, a small smile forming on your lips that made his heart lunge out for you.

"Hey," you whispered, "How'd it go?"

His hand reached out to you and grabbed yours softly, his thumb rubbing the knuckles of your hand in comfort, "Fine."

You hummed, eyes grazing over his balaclava. You briefly remembered about the first time you met him. The balaclava intimating you in a curious way.. you were so curious about him; about his life But never were you afraid of him. He tried so hard to keep you at arm's length, even when he was falling for you. And you kept tearing down the shields he wanted so hard to remain between you two.

Nothing could have prepared you for what would happen seven years later. After he proposed. After the wedding. It was difficult to think about it.

"I'm sorry," he lowly said, making your eyes meet his again.

Softly shaking your head, "It's okay Si-"

"No. It's not," He swallowed the lump in his throat, "I ruined everythin'. I hurt you... in more ways than I ever thought I would. I don't deserve you."

His eyes began to water at seeing how yours were starting to. A moment went by as you stared at each other. You didn't know what he was thinking, but you knew how you felt.

"I love you," you said, making his eyebrows furrow a little. It wasn't that he didn't want to hear you say it. He just knew he didn't deserve your love anymore... yet there you were, giving it to him. "I love you so fucking much, Simon. And I always will," You said, making his eyes soften.

"You deserve better than me," He said.

A tear rolled down your cheek as you thought about what you both had become, "But I want to be with you."

It was hard hearing you say that for him. He knew every muscle in his body was telling him to let you go; to bring you peace and happiness. But hearing you say that you wanted to be with him made his stomach flip.

"I promise I'll do whatever you want. I'll make this right sweetheart," He said, his own tear falling from his eye before it disappeared into the cotton material of the balaclava, "I love you."

That small smile turned into a bigger one as you nodded, making a smile form on his own lips - one that you could even see with the crinkle of his eyes. He continued to hold your hand, the two of you sitting in silence and gazing into each other's tearful eyes.

You didn't know what the future would hold for your marriage. You didn't know if things would turn out the opposite of what you just told him. But one thing was for certain... you loved that man with all of you. And that's all that mattered - to love through it all.

THE END.

Well..... that's it for "Love Through It All"... (at least the initial plot). I would like to continue this on as Andrei got away so we don't know what happened after that do we? lol! If you're interested in it, let me know. I also may continue this on over on my AO3 account (I do plan to post this over there as well). And eventually I also may do some edits to the story and change a few things but I'm not sure yet :)I did have some people ask about doing an alternate ending where reader leaves Simon, so sometime this week I do plan to start writing that and post it. I just want to make sure I'm not changing too much to the plot. If you all think I may have left some things out and you want to ask questions about any "behind the scenes" on something in the story, feel free to ask away or message me!

This has been a joy to write and share with you all! I usually start stories and then get bad writer's block to the point where I never finish them, so I'm so glad you all took this journey with me!

I do have two other stories on my AO3 that I started, so I plan to continue them (possibly starting next week I will post a new chapter).

I love you all so much! Take care <3

Taglist: @kalypsoox @fruitymoonbeams-blogz @kylies-love-letter @xrosegoldwolfx @linaaaaa654 @jessicab1991 @darkravenqueen98 @yazyazali @thychuvaluswife @chloeforde @cownini @ssc7514

[coyoxxtl]

I’m kind of tired of people thinking it was Haytham who wanted to connect with Ratonhnhaké:ton when it was the other way around. It was Ratonhnhaké:ton who did all the heavy lifting on that front.

Not saying Haytham had Absolutely No desire to connect with him but it’s like he gave up before he even tried. Sure he saved his life like, once iirc, but I don’t know what that means other than “I fucking guess I shouldn’t let my son die.” While Ratonhnhaké:ton is the one voicing his hopes for their partnership and believing Haytham could change at All. And while they both have moments of attempting to make the other see things from their perspective, I remember Haytham being incredibly dismissive and you can tell he thinks Ratonhnhaké:ton is just some stupid naive child, hence his bossing him around because he only sees himself as his father in the authority sense. (Also the racism) like Yeah it’s great when your long lost father spends the short time you had together chiding you and telling you you’re a fucking idiot for believing things can be better for the marginalized. Listen to his indoctrination propaganda boy.

Ultimately that’s what I think his whole “I made a mistake” phrase on his portrait meant. I never accepted that Ratonhnhaké:ton regrets killing Haytham and is a stupid sad boy about it like Forsaken wants you to believe. (also I’m certain that the phrase had multiple meanings as it was in the Kanien'kehà:ka language and not english) I think that it was 90% “I wasted time hoping this asshole would change” and 10% “I wish things could’ve gone different.”

But I don’t want to take away Ratonhnhaké:ton’s complex feelings about Haytham’s death, because he Does have them. He mourns him And what they could’ve had, more lost family after losing SO much. Almost every person I know that had one or two abusive parents still has some kind of love or hope for them despite the abuse. Even if they know they don’t deserve it. And if they happen to die they still somewhat mourn for them. This doesn’t change the damage they caused, but feelings are complicated and don’t always make sense.

Anyway, it’s just more people giving Haytham more credit than he deserves.