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#i feel so many things that it begins to feel like nothing
teddybeartoji · 17 hours
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18+ mdni; gn!reader
with a hand on the back of your head and another holding your throat, nanami curses under his breath, the sight of you gagging around his cock so filthy that the usually composed man has his knees threatening to buckle from underneath him. 
sweat trickles from the side of his face and there’s a deep shade of blush spread across his nose and cheeks, hiding the freckles you love so much. even the tips of his ears burn, the pleasure blooming everywhere under his skin as he rocks his hips against your face. the first buttons of his dress shirt are undone, a few hickeys already starting to darken on his skin from you nipping at him before dropping to your knees. he’s been working so very hard, and you just want him to let off a little steam – he just needs a bit of a push sometimes. 
so with you sat on his lap, sucking on his earlobe while pleading for him to take a break, it was impossible for him to say no. how could he when he’s got an angel in his arms, playing with his hair and kissing his neck ever so sweetly – he’s a weaker man than he thinks. 
when you slithered down between his thighs and stared up at him with big, hungry eyes, he found himself loosening his tie, his mind already beginning to cloud with the nastiest thoughts. 
ghosting your fingers over the growing bulge in his slacks, you rested your head against his thigh with a mischievous smile etched onto your lips. “c’mon, ken… i want to make you feel good.”
your words come out as a purr, as a siren’s call – you always have been a little tease, always the one to make him break and crumble. 
so here he finds himself now – slacks pooling around his ankles and the hem of his shirt caught between his teeth, trying his utmost best not to fill your mouth with cum after the first ten minutes like some damn teenager. his hair is a fucking mess, dusty blonde strands falling over his forehead no matter how many times he tries to push them back. he’s given up on it now, realizing that there are better things to be doing with his hands – the one on the back of your head, protects you from knocking against the wooden cupboard while the other rests on your neck, marveling the way his cock slides up and down your throat. 
it’s mesmerizing, the feeling of the bulge under the palm of his shaky hand. he’s in there, filling you up like nothing else and it’s the hottest fucking thing in the world. 
his pace is slow and steady, every roll of his hips has your nose nuzzling into his pubes, your chin pressing against his heavy balls. drool trickles from the corners of your mouth and it’s a sight to behold – it dribbles all the way down onto your thighs and from there on onto the floor and nanami can’t help but feel the coil in his stomach tighten faster than ever. you’re the only one that makes him feel like this, who manages to mold him to your own liking all while being down on your knees. 
the tip of your tongue tickles his balls and the growl he lets out makes you clench your thighs together. his shirt falls from between his teeth and he rushes to undo the rest of the buttons, desperate to get the material off of him, so he can give you his full attention once more. it’s exciting to see him this needy. 
you try to look up at him with him still down your throat and as a reward, he moves to stroke your cheek with his thumb. “you’re– you’re doing so good for me, darling.” 
his voice is raspier than ever and the praise that tumbles from his bitten lips has you moaning around his cock. his vision goes blurry for a moment as the pleasure overwhelms his senses. you’re something else. 
you’re fucking perfect. 
the ache in your knees fades in your mind as you get to watch him unravel above you. his strokes become more languid; he pulls out only a little before pushing back in, his tip reaching deeper and deeper with every thrust he makes. he wants to stay inside you, he wants to stay there forever. 
squirming below him, you screw your eyes shut and try to focus on your breathing – but as he stays slotted deep down your throat, it’s getting harder and harder and you can’t hold back the few tears that have been brimming at your lashline.
“f–fuck, i’m sorry, sweetheart… i– “
he feels you struggling, but doesn’t pull out even an inch, only grinding his hips into your face as if he was fucking your tight little hole instead. you claw at the backs of his thighs, your nails marking up his sensitive skin as you gag around him. but nanami’s mindful not to go too far, to make sure that he wouldn’t miss the moment your scratching should turn into tapping instead. as much as he’s enjoying himself, he’d rather die than to hurt you.
he waits for your signal but when it doesn’t come, he presses himself even further down your throat, moaning loudly when you gag around him. his blonde pubes stick to your skin, your spit acting as glue between you. 
your mouth is so fucking warm and tight and, fuck– the obscene sounds that fill his ears are making him lose his mind. you feel divine and it has him wondering what ever did he do to deserve a lover like you. 
all it takes is two pats against his thighs and he’s pulling away, his eyes locked onto your face as you gasp for air. crystalline droplets brim in the corners of your eyes and run over the apples of your cheeks, leaving behind salty remainders of your hard work. your lips are swollen and covered in a mixture of his precum and your own spit. trying to catch your breath, you take a moment before looking back up at him. 
the way his lips part in a silent groan the second you make eye-contact, his chest rising and falling as he strokes his fat cock right in front of your face. there’s still a strand of spit connecting the two of you, from your lips to his tip, and nanami wants to hate how big of an effect such a small thing can have on him. it’s romantic. 
you look ruined. 
he thinks you look absolutely fucking beautiful.
leaning down, he presses a fiery kiss to your lips as a thank you, as another form of praise. he loves the way you taste and they way you feel against him. 
you breathe into his mouth. “more…” 
nanami squeezes his fist around his base, another groan falling from him as he pulls away from you. the grin on your face, the hearts in your eyes and the love pooling on your tongue are more than enough to have him taking in a sharp intake of air – you reach out to him, gentle fingers wrapping around his way bigger ones as you guide him back to your mouth. your heavenly lips. 
as embarrassing as it is, it only takes another few minutes for him to cum down your throat with a loud, deep groan. he holds your neck just as before, feeling the way his own cock twitches inside of you as he gives you his all. 
there’s so much of it that despite you swallowing around him a couple of times, it still pours out from the corners of your mouth, turning you into an even bigger mess than before. but it’s not like you mind – this is exactly what you wanted in the first place. he’s panting like a dog above you, face red as a tomato as he bucks his hips into your mouth one last time. 
the sound that leaves his lips as he finally pulls out resembles a whimper and he lets out a sheepish chuckle, a bit flustered that you managed to pull that out of him. but then again…
it is you. 
his beloved, his love – the one who knows him the best, the one who knows what he needs without ever having to ask. you read him like an open book and he couldn't be more grateful. you're more than he could've asked for. hoped for.
and he loves you.
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meet the parents
pairing: steve harrington x reader
summary: steve didn't expect things to go smoothly when he introduced you to his parents, but nothing could have prepared him for the rage he felt when they turned their comments towards you
warnings: family drama, alcohol, steve feeling inadequate, steve's father sucks here
a/n: idk if i like how this turned out, but I tried my best
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You tugged at the hem of your dress, giving your outfit a once over in the mirror for the last time. You had spent ages rummaging through your wardrobe before you found this one, it’s simple but elegant—enough to make a good impression on Steve’s parents. Whom you were meeting for the first time, tonight. 
They had been nagging him since they returned from their trip, one of many, wanting to meet the girl who he had been seeing in their absence. They insisted on inviting you over for dinner, and based on Steve’s reaction, you knew how much this meant to him. You wanted to look your best. 
The knock on your front door pulls you away from your thoughts. You quickly grab your jacket and scurry down the stairs, slipping your feet into a pair of shoes as you go to greet him. 
He is standing on your front porch, hands buried deep in his pockets as he rocks back on his heels. He reverts his attention to the sound of the door opening. His breath catches in his throat as he drinks in the sight of you, his previous nerves are momentarily replaced with awe at your appearance. God, you looked angelic. 
The world seems to still as he unapologetically stares. The gentle curve of a nervous smile on your lips, the dress hugging your figure just right—it takes a great deal of strength on his behalf not to call the whole thing off. To whisk you away for the evening all to himself, leaving his parents to dine alone. He swallows hard as he composes himself, running a hand through his hair as a lopsided grin graces his features. 
“Honey, you…wow.” He begins, any words that entered his mind seemed unable to articulate how beautiful you looked tonight. “You look amazing.”
A blush creeps up your neck at the compliment, it’s endearing how he still gets tongue-tied around you. “Thanks. Thought I should put in a little effort.”
His fingers twitch at his sides as he faces another dilemma. Wanting to reach out and pull you close, push you back inside and be selfish, but he shoves them deeper into his pockets instead. The anxiety he was feeling about the night ahead was overwhelming, he was dreading it—dreading the way his father would most likely find something to dig at, something to put him down. 
But looking at you now, all dolled up for his sake, he hates it even more. 
He hates that you put effort in for this, when it could have gone to something so much more worthwhile. It was the story of his life, trying so hard time and time again to get their approval, only to be shot down over and over again. He didn’t want to subject you to that. 
The drive there is strangely quiet, except for the faint hum of the radio station that fills the car. His grip on the steering wheel is tighter than it usually was, his eyes trained on the road ahead. His thoughts, however, were miles away. Questions filled his mind about what could happen. What they could say to you. If they made you uncomfortable. Each one was worse than the last, the stress made his chest tighten. 
He brushes them off. How could they not love you like he did? When you’re sitting all pretty beside him, looking so damn perfect. In every way that he is not. 
“You seem quiet,” you say, trying to break the silence. “So, are your parents like, super strict or something?”
He chuckles, but it’s nervous. He has told you bits and pieces about what his family is like. Constant business trips that his mother insisted on tagging along to, holidays without him, calling a few times throughout the week. He had failed to mention how much of a dick his dad could be, especially after a couple drinks. 
“Nah, I mean, they’re not…strict.” His fingers tap anxiously on the steering wheel. “They’re old-fashioned. Like, ‘everything has to be perfect’ kind of way, you know?”
You nod along slowly, mood still playful, not quite picking up on the nerves flowing through the boy next to you. “Damn, I should have brought something, or even baked, huh?”
He laughs now, but the tension still remains in his shoulders. “Honestly, you might be their favourite person after tonight if you did that. I’m pretty sure they like you more than me.”
Your expression falters slightly at that, smile dropping as you reach over to squeeze his hand. “Steve, come on. There is no way that’s true.”
He doesn’t respond, keeping his eyes forward. 
She has no idea.
“Well, if they don’t like me, I’ll get them with my dazzling personality. You fell for it, right?”
That earns you a genuine smile. Yes, he fell for it. He fell damn hard and welcomed it fully. That is why he loathed the idea of bringing you home. Of subjecting you to this dinner. 
“Yeah, you got me good, angel.” He squeezes your hand back. “Hook, line, and sinker.”
His raw honesty renders you silent for a few moments, turning your face to the view outside to hide the flush in your cheeks. He always knew how to do that. Say something so nonchalant that made your knees weak. 
“Just a heads up,” he glances over to you briefly, hand still resting in his as you pull into the driveway of his home. “Just if they say anything…weird, don’t take it seriously.”
“Steve,” you pull your hand away to cup his face, big, brown eyes staring back at you as you reassure him. “I’m sure it will be fine.”
He wants to believe you. He wants to believe you so badly, but the feeling in his stomach only tightens more. In truth, he has no idea how this evening will go. And that terrifies him. 
Steve rounds the car to open your door, holding onto your waist as you head up the stairs to the entrance. He opened the door quietly, stepping aside to let you in. He pauses to take a look at you one last time, almost melting at how the entryway light falls over your face, illuminating your tender smile. He quickly moves to help you with your coat, sliding it off your figure with gentle movements and hanging it on the rack. 
“Shoes too,” he whispers, almost apologetic, his hand gently guiding your gaze toward the carpeted floor.
He had never asked you that before. You raise a brow, amused but willing to comply. “I didn’t realize there was a dress code,” you tease lightly, holding his shoulder and slipping out of your shoes.
He chuckles nervously. “Yeah, just… don’t want you getting into trouble.”
You scrunch your nose at him and smile, but there is something else brewing behind those eyes of his—worry perhaps? You just chalk it up to innocent nerves. I mean, who wouldn’t be slightly anxious to introduce their partner to their parents?
Leading you down the hall, you are greeted with the smell of roast chicken wafting from the kitchen. It’s surprisingly homey, comforting. Tonight might not be so bad after all. 
You step into the dining room, just opposite the open plan kitchen, first locking eyes with Steve’s mother. She gives you a warm smile, which you return. She looks just like him, same eyes, same smile, same kind expression that he always gives you. Her hands are busy on the stove but still when you enter. 
“Oh, you must be Steve’s girlfriend!” She says, her voice cheerful as she wipes her hands on a rogue teatowel. “It’s so lovely to finally meet you.”
“Thank you so much for having me,” beaming as you step forward, leaving Steve’s side for a second. “Everything smells amazing.”
Steve’s dad makes himself known, giving you a curt nod. He sits at the head of the table, relaxed with a beer in his hand which Steve spots immediately. “Glad you could make it,” he tells you, his voice low, but not unkind—for now at least. 
Steve returns to your side once more, a hand on the small of your back, gently guiding you to a seat at the table. This is good, he thinks, allowing a small flicker of hope to spark in his chest. You’re being your usual polite self, and so far, his parents seem…normal. He feels relaxed as his mother places the perfectly roast chicken at the centre of the table, letting out a small breath as he sits down. 
“Oh my gosh,” you exclaim, your face lighting up at the spread. “I love a roast! It’s been so long since I’ve had one.”
His mother blushes, clearly pleased by your praise. “Well, I’m glad to hear it! There is plenty here so please, help yourself.” 
You nod as you pick up the plate of potatoes, Steve picking up the greens, locking eyes as you swap them over. You are pleasantly surprised to see his expression, no longer sour with anxiety. 
“Bet it’s nice to have a home-cooked meal, huh?” Steve’s father takes a swig from his drink before gesturing to the boy at your side. “Kid barely knows how to boil water.”
He lets out a large laugh at his joke, oblivious to the way Steve pauses as he sets down the plate. He forces out a laugh as well, trying to shake it off, but he can’t deny how the joke stings. Especially when it was made in front of you. 
“I mean, I can handle the basics,” he chimes in, trying to defend himself as much as he can without insulting his father. “Eggs, pasta…” He trails off. 
You allow your gaze to wander over to him, your smile faltering as you catch the hurt look in his eyes. His father doesn’t seem to notice—or care at all, really. 
He can cook, he thinks as his eyes are trained on his father. He has cooked for you so many times, and you always said how good it was. The first moment you complimented his food he made it his mission to do it more often. It was something he took pride in. He had to teach himself after all, it’s not like they were ever around to do it, and he couldn’t just live off takeaway pizzas every night. 
He never was in the kitchen when they returned home, his mother always took the reigns there. His jaw tightens as he recalls the countless dinners made alone in his house, too used to the silence that always followed his parents’ absence. 
You set the fork down to the side of your place and turn to him, giving him a look of reassurance that does little to help him. You don’t speak up, but the mix of emotions in your expression makes Steve’s heart lurch. He should have said something, warned you more. Or better yet, come up with an excuse as to why you couldn’t make it tonight. 
His mother was equally as oblivious to the exchange as she carved off another piece of chicken. He doesn’t really care about what his family says about him, he has dealt with much much worse. But it still stings. It stings because it is in front of you. 
The conversation flows well as you all settle into the meal. The chicken was undeniably delicious, the familiar setting of the Harrington house helped soothe you as you chatted politely with is mother. 
“So, what is it you do?” She asks you, tone genuinely curious. 
You finish chewing, wiping your mouth with a napkin before you respond. “I just finished college actually. And I recently got an editing job at the local newspaper. It’s helped me get my first apartment too, so it’s a pretty exciting time.”
Steve can’t help but sit up a little straighter as you speak, his chest filling with a sense of pride that this is the woman he is introducing his folks to. 
That’s my girl, my smart girl.
“Well, isn’t that wonderful!” His mother says, clearly impressed. “You must be so proud of yourself.”
Steve smiled at the knowledge that they approved of you. They might not have approved of him, they made that clearly known whenever they had the chance, but seeing how impressed they were with you—that was enough. He reached across the table, taking your hand in his own and admiring how they looked intertwined in the glow of the dining room. His thumb strokes your knuckles, feeling a smug satisfaction rise up inside of him. You’re smart, capable independent. Everything Steve’s parents valued in a person. He might not be what they wanted him to be but he somehow had you to show for it. He was damn lucky to have you here with him. 
A voice cuts through the warmth he was feeling, a sharp edge bringing him down from his high. “Well, good for you,” his father said, his eyes drifting to your hands. His gaze was cold, calculating. “You know, I’ve always said people with drive go far. Funny how some manage to make it whilst others…don’t.” He gasts a glance at Steve, his voice laced with bitter sarcasm, the same voice that had followed him his whole life. “Guess you lucked out, huh, son? Dating someone with actual ambition.”
The comment hit Steve harder than he cared to admit, the jovial tone from his father did little to soften the blow. His chest tightens as he feels the sting of disappointment, but he can’t help but take the words on board. You are ambitious, you have the whole world at your fingertips. You could do anything you set your mind to and he knew that. He just hoped that when that time came, he would be lucky enough to be cheering you on from the sidelines. 
“Yeah, well,” he begins with a crooked grin. “Guess I’ve got the charm at least.”
The shift in his mood is noticeable to you, you can read him like the back of your hand, the way his smile remains on his face for just a second too long. His father's words were not just a joke, not to Steve. He always doubted himself and his abilities, worried about where he would go in his life. But at the end of the day you were there to support him, whatever decisions he made were his and his alone. 
He tells himself that it’s fine, that he can handle it. Just as long as they don’t go after you, he can take it. He has no problem being the martyr, he has been the punching bag for years and has no problem taking a few more hits.
The way he looks down at his plate makes your chest ache, the way that he acts like this isn’t a big deal. It’s obvious how much it bothers him, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. It hurts you to see him like this—reduced to a quiet, tense version of himself, happy to just keep the peace. 
The clink of silverware continued against the plates as the conversation flowed, finishing up the remainder of dinner, the beer in Steve’s father's glass also gone. He leaned back in his chair, the same look in his eyes that Steve was familiar with, inhibitions mellowed and ready to bite. His eyes narrowed as he observed the both of you, amusement dancing in his gaze like he found the perfect moment to strike. 
“Let me guess,” he began, wiping the edge of his mouth with a napkin before tossing it carelessly onto the table in front. “You’re with Steve because you think you can change him, right? Girls like you always think they can fix a guy like him.”
Steve stiffened beside you, his stomach twisting into a tight knot. He opened his mouth to say something—anything—but the words caught in his throat. For a moment, he felt like a kid again, being told off for something he had no control over. Something he couldn’t change. 
Before he even had time to fully process the insult, you were there. Your tone fast, steady, unfazed. There was no way you would sit there and let that comment go. Not when it was the furthest thing from the truth. 
“I’m not here to change Steve,” you said, your tone calm but resolute. “I’m with him because I love who he already is.”
His heart fluttered in his chest at your words—the way you spoke them. With such unwavering conviction that there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that you meant them. 
His father raised a brow, leaning forward in his chair, sizing you up and clearly enjoying the discomfort he was causing. The act revolted you. You were done with playing nice, you were not going to let him insult you or the one you love. It didn’t matter if they were family. 
“Love, huh?” He scoffed. “That’s cute. But, sweetheart, love doesn’t pay the bills. Steve is not exactly rolling in success here, is he?”
You don’t flinch, not even a little. “I don’t need him to be rolling in anything. He works hard and is more successful than you give him credit for.”
His father barked out a humourous laugh, nowhere near close to finished. “Kind? I’ll give you that. But I’m just saying, girls like you—smart, career-driven, their own place—usually go for someone with a little more ambition.”
You narrowed your eyes at the older man, keeping your voice collected. “Ambition isn’t about titles or money. Steve has plenty of it. He has been through things you couldn’t even understand.”
The tension that settled over the room was tense as you locked eyes. Steve’s mother stared at her husband, you wonder if she wished to say something, or if she also was too scared to challenge the older gentleman. You felt no fear, not when it came to conflict over those you care for. You wouldn’t back down. The more you spoke, the more Steve felt that old, crushing weight of his father’s judgement start to lift from his shoulders. 
“Look,” his father said, not enjoying the pushback. “I’m just telling you what I know. Guys like Steve—they’re nice, sure—but they don’t get you very far. Eventually, you’ll want more, and you’ll leave him just like the last one.’
That one hit hard. Too hard. Steve’s hand clenched under the table, unwanted memories of his past relationship springing to the surface, reopening old wounds. He wanted to make a joke. Wanted to say anything that would get away from this topic. His father noticed how withdrawn he got after Nancy, and now he was throwing it back in his face. He didn’t like weakness, and Steve had never felt more inadequate when that happened. 
“Actually, I’m more than happy with Steve,” you say effortlessly, voice low and confident. “He is one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met. I don’t need to ‘want more’ when I already have everything I could ask for.”
His father’s eyes flickered with something—surprise perhaps? He certainly wasn’t used to being challenged like this, feeling at a loss that his tactics weren’t working. He took it as a sign to cut deeper, harsher. He needed to get the upper hand once more. 
His lips curled into a smirk, one that Steve had seen a thousand times before, the one that always made him feel like he was on the losing end of an argument before it even began.
“Are you really gonna let your woman talk to me like this?” His voice heavy and patronising as he stared Steve down. “That’s what you’re doing now? Letting a girl fight your battles?”
Absolutely not. No fucking way. 
Everything was still, you could hear a pin drop in the room. Steve’s anxiety turned to full-on rage, seeping through every vein in his body as he looked at his father. He didn’t care what he said to him, but the vile way he spoke of you was unacceptable. Something in him snapped at that moment. 
“No,” he said, voice holding unwavering clarity. His father looked shocked, not expecting such a firm response from his son.
“No?” His father echoed, leaning forward slightly, trying to intimidate him. “Finally found your voice huh? Took you long enough.”
“No,” Steve repeated with finality. You glanced over and saw the muscles in his jaw tightening as he met his father’s gaze. “What I’m not gonna do is let you disrespect her like that.”
“Disrespect?” His father scoffed, shaking his head, acting as though he knew better. Like he was better. “I’m just telling it like it is. Someone has to, or you’ll go on thinking you’ve actually done something with your life.”
“I don’t need you to tell me how much of a fuckup I am, okay?” Steve shot back, heart pounding in his chest. “I got the message.”
He looks in your direction, eyes softening slightly as he takes in your expression. It held something his father had never directed at him. Pride. You looked proud of him. And that thought alone stirred him on. 
“What I’m not gonna do is allow you to talk to her like that,” He returns his attention to his father, his finger pointing in your direction. “Not when you don’t know a damn thing about her.”
His father bristled at the insubordination, the condescension in his voice was thick. “I know enough,” he said matter-of-factly. “I know she’s playing house with a guy who peaked in high school. How long till she figures that one out, hm?”
Steve’s blood spiked, now more willing than ever to fight back against his father. He had been pushed around for years, if there was any time to rebel, it would be now. “You don’t know anything about us! You’re hardly here!”
His father leaned back, smug. “I know enough about you, Steve. I know you’ve been coasting. First, it was basketball, then this lousy job at the video store—hell—you’re lucky someone even gave you the time of day. A girl like her? She’s going to wake up and realise you’ve got nothing to offer.”
Steve swallowed hard at that moment, his father’s words were getting to him, digging into his skin and refusing to let go. It was beginning to break him, like so many times previously. He was ready to back down, let him say his piece and be done with it. 
That was until he felt a gentle hand on his leg. One that softly ran its fingers against the denim of his jeans. He stared at it. As its presence. He felt the warmth within your touch, reigniting the fire he never thought lit. 
“You’re wrong,” he said quietly, voice cracking slightly but he pushed on. “She is not like that. You say she’s smart? You have no idea. I trust there is a reason she is with me. She sees who I am, something you have never been able to do.”
His father’s eyes flickered with something that resembled surprise, but he quickly masked it with a cold look. “So, what? You think this tantrum is going to change anything? These are facts.  You’ve always been weak, Steve. That’s why you’ll never—”
“No,” Steve cut him off, using the same word he had been repeating for this conversation, filled with a conviction that startled even himself. “I’m not weak. I’m done letting you make me feel like I am.”
The room went still, the sharpness in Steve’s voice hanging in the air that nobody was accustomed to. His father opened his mouth to respond, but Steve didn’t give him the chance.
“I’m not you. If I was she never would have looked at me twice, and I’m damn proud of that.”
Your exit was swift. Steve grabbed your hand and dragged you to the front door, leaving both of his parents in a state of shock. You just about managed to slip your feet into your shoes as he grabbed your coat to the side of your head. Slamming the door loudly as you left. 
The night air was cold, helping in soothing his raging anger, letting a breath out before he turned to you, stare softening with affection. He turned to face you, touching your cheek with such tenderness as he searched your eyes, trying to figure out how you were feeling. 
“Are you alright?” He asked softly, running his thumb along your cheekbone. 
“I’m alright,” you assured him, leaning into his touch. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I—wow,” he was still jittery, letting out a shaky laugh and running a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe I said all that.”
“I can,” you said as you gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m really proud of you.”
His expression was gentle, grateful to actually hear the words that had been denied for so many years. There was another emotion within him as well, a sense of awe. The way you handled yourself with grace, not bending under pressure. He swore he was already head over heels for you, but after tonight? He fell for you a just little bit harder. He shakes his head at your previous compliment. 
“You were amazing in there, sweetheart,” a crooked smile forming. “God, you’re something you know that?”
You smiled as you allowed him to lead you to his car, arm resting on your back as he opened the door for you. He slipped into the driver's seat and started the ignition, fingers drumming on the steerwheel as he tried to gather his thoughts. “I don’t think I can go back there. Like, ever.”
“Yeah, I kind of got that,” you say as you nudge him playfully. “Guess I’m gonna have to move you in, huh?”
He glanced at you as he pulled away from his childhood home, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. “Is that so?”
You laughed and rolled your eyes, pleased that he was making jokes instead of spiralling. The comfortable silence that filled the car was peaceful, but his expression shifted, something tentative, serious settled over him. 
“We could, you know.”
You blinked at his proposition. “What?”
He cleared his throat and immediately regretted saying anything. His nerves now spiking at his confession. It was too late to back out now, the words that spilt from his mouth flowed without thought. 
“I mean,” he started, knuckles turning white as his grip tightened. “I may work retail, but I definitely make enough to rent an apartment. I could contribute, really. I could…”
He trailed off, watching your reaction carefully. There was a sincerity in his words that made your heart melt.
“I mean, I’m not gonna be mad about halving the rent,” you said with a blush forming on your face at the thought of living with him. Of waking up with him, coming home to him. For all of your belongings being mingled together. For everywhere you look his presence is there with you. 
His face broke out into the softest, most boyish smile you had ever seen on him. “You mean it?” He uttered, voice quiet, as if he may have misheard you. 
“Yes, Steve,” you brush a hand through his hair, so in love with the sweet boy next to you. “I mean it.”
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megameatymatt · 14 hours
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Step By Step - Matt Sturniolo
summary: Matt finds out about y/n's ED relapse
WARNINGS: e@t!ng d!sorder, swearing, throwing up, gagging, crying, self-hatred/insecure, feelings of hopelessness, overthinking
If you or anyone you know is dealing with an ED or substance abuse, call or text:  1-800-662-4357.
word count: 766
requested?: nope
A/N: I was feeling sad so all of you must suffer with me. Feedback, interaction, and requests are appreciated! ok bye
Pink: Y/n
Blue: Matt
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Matt knows you've dealt with an eating disorder in the past. He wasn't there during it, but you've talked to him about it and answered some of his questions. It didn't make you any less perfect in his eyes. To him, all that mattered was you being okay. But you weren't.
Four years later, you feel like you're falling back into it all over again—all the progress you've made, discarded within just a couple weeks.
You stare at yourself in the mirror and wish someone different stared back at you. You pinch at the skin on your thighs, stomach, and arms and wish the fat would disappear.
You sob silently. How can someone hate themselves so much, How couldn't you hate yourself so much, Y/n? Look at you, just look at you! You're lucky matt even stays. Thoughts circle around your head like a halo. Leaving you in nothing but shatters.
You walk to the toilet, shove a finger down your throat, and gag
The cycle begins.
Two weeks later, you walk into your kitchen to find Matt standing there. "Good morning, angel, I'm making pancakes. How many do you want." The thought of putting food in your mouth makes you sick. "Um, Matt, I'm not hungry." Matt frowns. "You love my pancakes, baby, what's the matter?" you shuffle through your brain, thinking of an excuse. "I'm full from last night, Y'know, the pizza." You, Matt, nick, and Chris had had a movie night. The boys ordered pizza and snuggled up on the couch as you all giggled.
"I watched you the whole night, Y/n, I didn't see you take a single slice," he says, flipping a pancake. "In fact i haven't seen you eat much at all lately, You alright?" Eat? How can he suggest such a thing? doesn't he want me to be pretty? i wanna be good enough to wear a bikini. I wanna be good enough to wear skin tight dresses, i wanna be good enough for him.
You shake away these thoughts trying your best to keep your composure. "I'm good, just give me one okay?" you say letting out a sigh. He smiles "Comin' right up princess" He hands you a plate with a pancake, syrup, whipped cream and some strawberries. Matt has already started digging into his own plate.
just a few bites Y/n, just let Matt think you're okay
You pick up your fork and knife with shaky hands, cut yourself a piece and quickly shove it it your mouth. Your body wants to immediately reject it, but you take a few more bites.
As soon as you swallow your first bite, it flies back up your throat. You get up and run to the bathroom. Matt follows you with concern. "Are my pancakes that bad?" he says, running after you. But as he walks into the bathroom. He notices how frail you've become. Tears are running down your eyes, and he finally realizes. You finish puking and flush the toilet and lean against the wall, almost lifelessly.
A few tears escape Matt's eyes. How could he be so stupid? how didn't he put it together? It was so obvious. He could've helped you. Why would you do this?
He runs out of the bathroom to get a glass of cold water, then quickly comes back to hold you. The only thing that could escape from his mouth was "Why"? "Just look at me, Matt, I hate it, I hate my body so fucking much, Matt, you don't even understand," you say, trying your best to yell, tears running down your face.
Matt is completely taken aback "But you're so beautiful, baby, You're hurting yourself. You were doing so good." You sob in Matt's arms, barely able to speak. "I-I'm sorry, Matt. I just wanted to be pretty." Your words felt like a knife in Matt's stomach.
''I tried so hard to fight it, Matt, I didn't want to go down this path again. I promised you I wouldn't. The words spill out like vomit, "But I did it anyway, Matty." You whine, "And it's worse than before. I'm so ashamed Matt. I'm sorry i'm putting you through this" Tears rush you your face, and you're shaking uncontrollably. The knife in Matts stomach only gets pushed deeper and deeper. "I'm sorry i never noticed Y/n, i'm so fucking stupid. The signs were so clear, i could've helped you." He wipes the tears off your cheeks. "But i'm gonna help you now baby." "I can't Matt" "we're gonna do it together okay? Step by step, Y/n. We'll be just fine"
Taglist: @sturnobsessedwh0re
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You Call It Madness But I Call It Love
Chapter 27: Take Me Back To The Beginning
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Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV
Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter twenty seven of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)
Word Count: 13.3K (I tried to cut it down I promise 😭)
Warnings:  I'm gonna label this one 18+ because it's Soldier Boy. Homelander is a freak AGAIN,  A little bit of Oedipal Complex (It's Homelander the man is a walking Greek Tragedy), Graphic depiction of death, Dark thoughts, References to Past Trauma,  Angst, Cursing, Sexual References, Family Problems- A LOT of family problems, Homophobic comment (It's Soldier Boy), Past Trauma, Death Mentioned, Blood mentioned. Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC. Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.
Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist
A/n: It's that time y'all! The final battle is finally here! This chapter was a doozy to write, there were so many things that needed to be wrapped up, but I really have loved writing this series and I really like how everything came together.
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READER POV
The building is just as cold as you remember it, the hallways are silent and empty as if they'd been cleared for this exact moment as the three of you make your way into the depths of Vought Tower.
I wonder if Homelander was the one who did it, or if someone else realized what was coming.
There was an electricity in the air like the coming storm, rolling in front of Ben, Butcher, and you like a dark omen.
Homelander is going to get what is coming to him.
Any remorse you had for him left the moment that he took Lou. There was nothing human to save, nothing left to redeem, the only thing left was the sharpened, cruel creature that Vought created from your own flesh and blood.
And if you were his beginning, you might as well be his end.
Ben was walking beside you, any softness that you'd seen outside the building replaced by the cold calculating mask of Soldier Boy, you knew all too well, but this time you didn't fear his descent into the blaze, you reveled in it. For the first time in years, you were happy to see Soldier Boy again, and this time you knew that Ben was becoming this for you, for Lou, and for Rosemary.
You hoped that this time he wouldn't hold you back from doing what you needed to do as he had earlier. Though he did seem sorry for what happened while the two of you were outside, you weren't sure how eager he was to put it into practice.
Butcher seems to know where he is going, so you fall into step behind him, not concerned as to how Butcher knows exactly where he is headed. He stops outside a massive gilded door across from a rather exhaustive statue of the Seven craved from black marble.
The double doors that lead into the main conference room at Vought Tower are made to look intimidating, but you didn't feel anything but anger and fear. Not fear for yourself, but fear of what Homelander had done to Lou and to Rosemary.
Butcher pushes open the doors with one hand revealing a large room that lacks warmth. The last rays of the setting sun send honeyed light onto the black marble floors, dramatizing Homelander's stoic figure where he stands at the large floor to ceiling wall of windows at the opposite side of the room. His gaze is focused on the city below, like a proud emperor observing his kingdom and everything he owns.
He probably believes he does.
You think to yourself, eyes skating around the edges of the room looking for possible threats, but you don't see any. The wall to your left is lined with monitors and the wall to your right also has some, but instead holds a smaller pair of black double doors.
You didn’t know what kind of tricks Homelander had up his sleeve, but you were preparing yourself for the worst. Of the Seven teammates remaining he was the most formidable. You doubted that the Deep could do anything to you on dry land and you were more than happy to turn him into a tuna roll. You were a little worried about A-Train. He was fast enough to cause a problem, but you didn't know how much. Butcher had told you not to be worried about Hughie's girlfriend Starlight, mentioned that she wouldn’t side with Homelander and that she probably wouldn't be anywhere near Vought Tower. You figured that she'd probably gone to pick up Hughie from the gas station that Butcher had left him at, but you didn't know if she would come take down Homelander.
Honestly you were more worried that she would come for Ben. You'd seen her posts on social media proclaiming Soldier Boy as a terrorist and a villain, which meant that she probably wasn't your biggest fan either. You hoped that she was far away, you didn't want to kill someone who didn't deserve it or rather someone who lashed out against Ben or you because they didn't understand the whole situation.
Butcher also seemed unsure about who would be at Vought, mentioned something in passing about his old team that included the man you'd seen back at Herogasm, but you hadn't seen anyone in the building or sensed that anything unusual was about to happen other than your plan to rip out Homelander's spine and wear it around your neck like a fur boa.
"I remember the first time I stood here." Homelander says without turning around. You could see his pristine reflection in the glass, blonde hair perfectly styled and glowing in the last few wisps of sunlight. "I hadn't seen anything like New York City before, hadn't been around so many people in my entire life." His arms are crossed behind his back, the epitome of control. "They told me it was mine. That this was what I had been bred for my entire life." He glances over his shoulder at you. "I would have been willing to share it with you and dad."
"Where are Lou and Rosemary?" You keep your voice under control.
He ignores you and turns, eyes flicking from Butcher, to Ben, to you. "You are so beautiful. When I imagined what my mother would look like I never imagined someone like you. Maybe I imagined you looking a little more motherly." The feeling of his eyes tracing your figure makes your skin crawl. "But I can see why dad loves you so much. And of course why Noir was obsessed with you."
The mention of Noir makes your blood run cold. How did he know about that? Did Noir tell him?
That was another side of this whole situation that you had considered, you had no idea where Noir was. If he had stayed at the Tower or if he had cut and run when he heard that the rest of his team was being killed one by one. You hoped that it was the first option, trying to hunt him down and find him seemed inconvenient and you'd much rather just settle this now.
"Answer her question." Ben growls, the air around the two of you heating from Ben's newfound powers and the smell of ozone begins to float under your nose. He was trying to hold himself back from stepping in front of you and hiding you behind his body, that much was obvious. You could tell how much he hated how Homelander kept staring at you.
You did too. The guy is creepy enough, does he have to turn this into a Greek Tragedy? Did he see how things ended up for Oedipus?
Homelander only smiles, the same one he had back at Legend's, wide and with too much teeth. The smile of a predator before it catches it's prey, pretty until its teeth latch onto your throat.
He's very confident for someone who has no chance of taking down both of us. Then again, maybe he feels that way because he has the two people in the world who mean everything to me.
You strain your hearing to find Lou and Rosemary, but you can't hear them. There's a low buzz being projected through the building that makes it impossible for you to hear anything else.
Interesting that he's willing to handicap us even if it handicaps him as well.
"Hello William, still standing in my way and feeding them lies about me I see." Homelander tsks his finger as if Butcher is a child.
"Jealous that your dear old dad gets along better with me? Or maybe that your mother doesn't think that I'm as big a twat as you?" Butcher breezes with an easy smile.
Homelander's right eye twitches with Butcher's taunt.
"Sorry mate, does that make you angry? That your parents see me as the son they never had?" Butcher's smile grows.
You take this moment to skate your eyes around the room looking for any evidence of your granddaughter and daughter but you don't see any. Butcher was buying you time, but you didn't know how long it would take for Homelander to be done talking and you were ready to beat the location of your daughter and granddaughter out of him.
"Where are Lou and Rosemary?" Ben shouts again interrupting Butcher. "If you've hurt either of them I swear-"
"Why would I hurt my niece? I'm not a monster. She's fucking four years old." Homelander scoffs.
But hidden in his answer is the possibility that he hurt Rosemary, and it makes your blood run cold.
"We both know that you're capable of that." You respond coldly. "You thought nothing of using her as a human shield earlier."
Homelander presses a hand to his chest as if you've hurt him. "Why mother dearest, how could you say that about your only son?"
"Tell me where they are, and I will consider letting you live." You say without emotion.
Lie.
"There she is." Homelander smirks. "There's the woman I know and love. The one I met at Herogasm had so much ferocity, such rage, and pride. I think you try to hide her behind this. When you act pathetic and human." He gestures to you as if that explains things. "Because you're afraid to embrace it."
"You don't know me-"
"Well. The saying is, like father like son, but-" Homelander's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "The woman I met at Herogasm, she's something special, and exactly like me. Not to mention the woman who killed Stan is just as ferocious, and I'd like to talk to her."
"Keep pissing me off and you're gonna do a little more than talk to her."
Homelander chuckles. "Don't tease me." He has the audacity to wink.
"Don't you fucking look at her that way you sick fuck." Ben growls.
"Why? Aren't pretty things made to be worshipped?" His smirk grows. "And if I had someone like her I sure would worship her."
Ben lunges forward, to wipe the smirk off his face, but when you reach out and grab his arm, he stops. When he turns to look at you he looks like he's ready to snap Homelander in half, a fire blazing behind his eyes that you're not sure if it's because you held him back or because he's upset over what Homelander said.
With your eyes you try to say:
"You can rip him apart after he tells us where Lou and Rosemary are."
You're not sure Ben gets it, but he doesn't advance so you assume he got some form of that.
Deep down you were worried that Homelander had already handed them over to Vought or to the government for some kind of deal. It was an all consuming fear, because yes you would fight tooth and nail to get them back, but it wouldn't be easy if you had to fight the United States government to do it.
"Ashley." Homelander says, but when no one appears he roars the name again, with so much ferocity that it echoes off the walls of the round room, vibrating against the monitors, and into the hallway behind you.
A red-haired woman appears at the black double doors on the right side of the room, looking frazzled and pale. There are pieces of her hair stuck to her fashionable black pantsuit in clumps and she's wearing a pair of crimson heels that clack loudly against the marble floors. She's got a death grip on her phone so tight that you can hear the tension of her tendons in her hand.
You remember seeing her before in the background of an interview on t.v., but never paid much attention to her. Ben looks as confused as you do at her appearance, no doubt waiting for her to start lobbing fireballs or make heads explode, but instead she drags Lou through the doors behind her.
Lou looks the same as she did when Homelander took her, still wearing the same pink polka dot pajamas, except now she's holding the hand of a boy who looks maybe twelve years old with blondish-brown hair that hangs into his eyes that you're assuming is Ryan.
The woman, identified as Ashley disappears as suddenly as she appeared and slams the doors behind her.
Probably had the right idea. This entire room is about to become ground zero. Which is horrifying because now Lou is here.
The amount of relief you feel at the appearance of your granddaughter is overwhelming, fear of her being locked away somewhere evaporating as her eyes fall on you, wide and green.
"Lou." You breathe and cross the room to get to her, ignoring Homelander's gaze that follows your every move. You drop to your knees to give her a hug, but for the first time since you met her, she doesn't hug you back. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?” She's not smiling at you, she's frowning.
"Are you my grandma?"
The question makes you freeze for a moment. Obviously Homelander had told her the truth about everything and you didn't want to lie to her again. You knew this day would come, but you didn't think that she would find out this way. If anything Rosemary and you were going to tell her when she was old enough to understand that it wasn't something she should say in public.
You didn't look like a grandmother, nor did you think that anyone would believe Lou if she said it in public, but it would reveal that you were in fact Indigo.
Then again, we're probably past that. You frown at the thought, but it was true. There was no going back. You'd walked into Vought with no disguise in front of all the cameras and you certainly were going to leave your mark here tonight. You'd be lucky if Vought didn't run the story in the morning:
"Payback Strikes Back Against the Celebrated Seven"
Of course in that story everyone would conveniently forget that Ben and you were also beloved heroes, were also worshipped and elevated in society. Funny how things like that seem to be lost in translation.
"Yes." You reach up to push back her hair and she moves her head away, her dark hair slipping through your fingertips.
"Why did you lie? Lying is mean." She whispers, hurt flashing in her eyes. "Did you not want to be my grandma?" Lou looks down at her feet clad in a pair of teddy bear slippers.
"Oh sweetie." You sigh, tilting her chin up to look at you. "I did. I am. It was just easier this way-"
"Mommy says that lying is bad." Her green eyes are watery, voice quiet.
"I know. It is. But you have to understand it was a grown-up decision and we didn't want you to find out like this." This time she lets you brush her hair back from her face. "And it doesn't mean we love you any less."
Her eyes flick to Ben. Ben had followed you over, to make sure that Homelander didn't attack you when your back was turned.
"You're my grandpa?" Lou sniffles.
"Yeah." Ben forces a tight smile for Lou's sake, but you know that he's thinking that this isn't the place for this.
It isn't.
You could still feel Homelander's eyes against your back and you were trying to fight the shudder of disgust.
"Ryan say hello to your grandparents." Homelander calls from his position by the window, his voice proud and filled with  humor.
"Hello." Ryan smiles, but its hesitant and you’re happy that he’s at least able to read the room. A skill that his father didn't seem to have.
"Hi." You smile back tightly, the same smile that Ben had moments ago.
Meeting Ryan made all of this worse. You hear Homelander's footsteps as he gets closer to you and Ben mirrors his movement to block Homelander narrowing his eyes. You weren't here for a family reunion, you were here to kill Homelander and get your family back, but the thought of killing Ryan's father in front of him made you hesitate. That was something that seemed too cruel to consider, unless if Ryan was somehow shown how monstrous his father was.
Homelander holds his hands up in mock surrender. "I just want to talk this out."
You stand and push Lou behind you, refusing to let Homelander get anywhere near her again. "I thought you didn't want to talk to us anymore." You spit the words.
"I changed my mind." He forces his expression into something that looks like shame. "Maybe I got a little carried away before. But you have to understand I have been waiting to be apart of a family for such a long time and now that I have Ryan I’ve realized how important it is to have one. I'd never felt that kind of love for someone else, the kind of love that drives you to sacrifice whatever you have to save them.” He glances down at Lou who is peeking out from behind your leg at Homelander. "The kind of love you have for Lou."
He speaks like a practiced actor, his hand movements simple, rehearsed, the expressions on his face calm and collected, but you don't believe it for a minute.
"I know you said that I wasn’t your son, but I am." He says, eyes flicking from Ben to you. "I am your blood that's all that matters and now we can be a family. A real family."
"Where is Rosemary?" You ask. Lou hasn't moved from behind you.
"Please. All I'm asking is for a chance-" Homelander says ignoring your question.
"Why should we give you a fucking chance? You kidnapped Lou, you've probably hurt Rosemary or worse!" You could feel the room beginning to shake with the force of your anger, eyes shifting to purple.
"You kidnapped her, Dad?" Ryan asks in surprise.
You look back at where he was standing. Lou was still holding on to his hand and when you'd pushed her behind you, you'd also inadvertently pushed Ryan behind you too.
"I thought you said that Lou wanted to come live with us." Ryan continues looking confused. "And who's Rosemary?"
"He lied." Ben snarls, eyes not leaving Homelander.
"My guess is he does that a lot." You sigh looking at Ryan. "She's Lou's mother, your aunt. She flew after him when he took Lou. You haven't seen her?"
Ryan shakes his head.
Fuck.
Homelander ignores the question again and changes tactics, his blue eyes turning on Ben. "I understand what it's like for your team to betray you, to stab you in the back, to act like you didn't fight together, bleed together and to act like you weren't willing to die for one another. We could be unstoppable together, all of us. A family. Isn't that what you always wanted dad?" Homelander says the last part softly, enticing Ben to make that choice. "I read your file. Everything about what happened to your mother and it wasn't hard to figure out what happened with your father."
Ben's jaw clenches together and you watch his entire body tighten at the mention of his dad.
It was true. Ben had always wanted a family, always wanted someone in his life that cared for him, that he could love and be loved by, and you had made sure in all the years you'd known him that it was you. You were his family just as Ben had become your family and cared for you. It was hard to not be family to one another after all the years you'd spent together, to not care about him the way you did. It wasn't a burden to you to love Ben and wasn’t a burden for you to take up the title of family, because it was simply true.
You reach out and touch Ben's back to let him know that you’re there, feeling his muscles twitch for just a moment beneath your hand, before he glances over his shoulder at you. For just a fraction of a second you see the Soldier Boy façade drop and you see your Ben again, before something hardens in his eyes. The conversation that passes through the glance you share is absolute and quick, but he understands.
Ben takes a step towards Homelander letting your hand fall as he forces a tired sigh. "I'm sorry." He places his hand on Homelander's right shoulder.
You watch Homelander relax under the contact, the expression on his face hurts you. You didn't think it would, but Homelander looks happy and comforted that Ben was here with him. Content that Ben finally gave in.
In some ways you wished that it could be this way, that Homelander was redeemable, and that you could all be a family the way he wanted. But you couldn’t. The blood on his hands was too great and you had to stop him before anyone else got hurt.
"I'm sorry that I wasn't there, sorry that I wasn't able to teach you what I should have father to son." Ben sighs. "I think it would have helped you. I think your mother could have helped you."
"You're here now." Homelander says, looking over Ben shoulder at you, his eyes misty. You force yourself to send him an encouraging smile. "Both of you are." Homelander's voice sticks a little as he says it.
Something deep down breaks when he says that, because it’s the same thing that Ben and you had said to each other outside. As much as you wanted to hate Homelander, to push him away, another part of you was beginning to unravel, the part of you that wanted to accept him as your son. But you couldn’t because he didn't deserve that. Homelander was the monster that Vogelbaum created, there wasn’t a shred of human decency left and that meant Ben and you had to make a hard decision.
You wonder if Ben really did feel that way or if he was just doing this because he knew you wanted him to.
Ben continues to smile at him. "It would have helped you not to become a sniveling weak pussy starved for attention."
Homelander's smile falters. "Weak? But I'm your blood. Your son-"
"I know." You try to ignore the emotion that bleeds into Ben's voice when he says it. "And you're a fucking disappointment."
"What-" Homelander doesn't get the word out before Ben tackles him back away from you and Butcher leaps over the table to help him.
Ryan stiffens behind you as they do this and you look at him. "Dad?" Ryan whispers.
Lou gasps and touches the end of your shirt in fear, watching Homelander fight Butcher and Ben back, his eyes glowing an ominous red.
You open your mouth to say something to her and Ryan, but you feel a sharp pressure on the back of your neck and hear a high pitched snap.  You turn your head to look to your right and see Black Noir standing there, a broken syringe that holds a clear liquid in his right hand. The tip snapped when he had tried to press it into your body, unaware that your newfound power meant that nothing could break your skin.
"Ryan, please take Lou out of here. I don't want her to see this." You say calmly, not looking away from Noir, who lowers the syringe slowly in shock.
"But-" Ryan begins to say.
"Do it now." You order turning your body to face Noir. "Hello Earving. Long time no see."
Noir takes a small step backward realizing his mistake as Ryan pulls Lou to the doors on the other side of the room.
You hear Noir try to form a word, nothing more than an awkward click and a wheezing sound. "Sorry I can't hear you." You smile cruelly at him.
"I’d say you look good but, Ben really fucked you up pretty good didn't he?" You look through the mask with your x-ray vision, seeing just how messed up Noir is underneath. "It's a miracle that you're alive. That any of you got out of there alive."
Noir drops the syringe and pulls a knife, the blade shining in the fluorescent lights.
"You know, if the syringe didn't work, I don't think the knife will either." You begin to say, but he's undeterred.
He lunges forward sweeping the blade in a deadly arch aiming for your neck, but you catch his wrist. “If I had been there you all would have suffered.” You turn his wrist at an awkward angle, listening to the sharp cracking of bone as it snaps and Noir’s wheeze of pain.
Behind you, you could hear the telltale sound of punching and crashing, but you don’t look away from Noir, trusting that Ben and Butcher have it under control.
"Before I killed Countess I had to listen to her go on and on about how proud she was about that day, how proud she was that you all stabbed Ben in the fucking back, and honestly I didn’t mean to kill her. Though I will admit I regret not making it last a little longer. The Twins begged for mercy, tried to tell me that it was a big mistake, that Ben lied to me." You shrug advancing on him. "But Ben doesn't lie to me."
Noir tries again, kicking his foot up to hit your abdomen, but your hand closes on his ankle keeping his leg extended between the two of you.
 "He told me exactly what happened that day." You snarl, shoving Noir back from you so harshly that he lands on the ground. "You all turned on him. And honestly, you got off easy. You're lucky I wasn't there. Do you have any idea what I would have done to you if I had been there?" You smile and let out a low laugh. "Well I guess that doesn't matter, because you’re about to find out."
He scuffles back still on the ground, trying to crawl back, and reaches into his pocket for something. You were expecting a gun or a throwing knife, but instead he pulls out a notepad and a pen and you stop.
"What are you-" You begin to say, but Noir starts frantically writing with his only good hand.
He curls his ruined arm under the notepad to hold it steady as he forms the words on the page, and holds it up for you to see.
Did it for you.
"What?"
Noir drops the pad to write again.
Using you.
"Who?"
Him.
"Ben?"
Noir nods frantically.
Only way.
Wow he is so much worse off than I thought.
Then again, when Ben broke your heart you did think that too for a little bit. That all the years spent together had been a lie and that he was manipulating you and using you because he didn’t want to face the silence alone. It reminded you of the thing your mother shouted at you when you gave Howard back the ring and left home:
“You really think that disappointment will ever love you? Care about you? You are nothing to him, just another plaything. And the day he finally tosses you away, don’t bother coming back here.”
It makes you hesitate again and Noir sees it as an opportunity to write more on his piece of paper.
Set you free.
"You thought that the only way to free me was to send Ben to fucking Russia?"
Noir nods.
"I wasn't some fucking damsel in distress. I wasn't locked up in a tower by some dragon. I wasn't trapped-
You were.
"No I wasn't I chose to be there-"
Not happy.
"I was happy Earving."
I am better for you.
Your jaw snaps together, looking past the mask and into his scarred face. The expression in his eyes has shifted now, to something softer, something vulnerable and earnest. You remember what Stan said about Noir going through your apartment when you weren't there, stealing pieces of your clothing, and stealing your jewelry.
I did everything for you.
Noir reaches into his pocket and pulls out something that glimmers in the light. It takes you a moment to recognize it, but it's your pearl necklace, the one your father gave you when you spent your first birthday away from home. He holds it out to you and you take it from his hand. The beads are just as you remember, maybe a little yellowed with age, but still in good condition. Soft and supple against your fingertips, warmed from where they were in Noir's pocket.
Said I could have you.
"Who?"
Stan.
The name of the man you killed makes your blood run cold and for a minute you feel bad for Noir, feel bad that he believed what Stan said. Stan who told Noir whatever he could into manipulating him to do his bidding.
Stan knew that he was obsessed with me, knew exactly what to say to make sure that Noir would do what he wished. And Noir believed that I was something that Stan could give away. I didn't belong to Stan, didn't belong to anyone but me.
That was the problem with Stan after all, that he thought you were a commodity to be sold. That everyone else in the entire world believed that you were nothing more than a puppet to be used and disposed of whenever they saw fit. It was the same attitude that drove Stan and Vogelbaum to take your genetic material.
But then you left. Tried to find you. Couldn't find you. Why did you hide?
You watched Noir's shoulders slump as if it was painful for him to go through the past forty years not knowing where you were.
Could have helped you.
 A chill of disgust traces its hand down your back. You wondered how long he had been stalking you and wondered how many things he still had from forty years ago. The pearls were quickly icing in your hands, a symbol of the girl you used to be, the one who walked around Philadelphia and saw the world in color, saw the good in people. You knew that she was gone, long gone. Not after everything that you'd been through in the past week, finding out about what Vogelbaum did to you changed you, finding out what happened to Rosemary with Charlie changed you into someone different.
But you didn’t hate who you had become. You glance behind you at where Ben is fighting Homelander, ducking beneath the blows that Homelander tries to land, dancing around him.
I love you.
When your eyes trace over the familiar words and see the earnestness in Noir's eyes behind the mask. A part of you breaks for Noir, understanding that his obsession with you maybe did stem from good intentions but the descent into madness that drove him to do the things he did was dark and consumed him quickly.
"Did you know about Homelander?"
Noir was still sitting on the ground looking up at you and when you ask the question you watch him drop his head to his chest in shame.
Yes.
You move the pearls to your front pocket, considering your next move. "I saved your life before from Ben, not because I loved you but because I didn’t think it was right for him to hurt you. I didn't think that you deserved to lose your life over a film role.” You murmur with a sigh “But maybe if you'd gone about this the right way I would have given you a chance."
Do it now.
"No." You shake your head.
But I love you. I'm here-
The next word is just a scribble now as you fling your hand out and Noir's body flies back into the concrete wall. It cracks around him as you increase the pressure and he begins to fold in on himself.
"If you really loved me Earving, you wouldn't have let them do that to me." Your voice sounds hollow, but you know that it's the truth. “You would have tried harder to find me every day, to tell me what they fucking did.”
“Did try-“ He wheezes in a broken voice, barely audible.
“Should have tried harder.”
"Please-" The word is only a shadow of what it should be, his injuries making it difficult to form it, and through the mask you see a single tear tracing the side of his scared face.
"Ben would have ripped them all apart if he knew what they did. But you didn't, you sat at Stan's table for forty years and did absolutely nothing. You don't get the privilege to beg for mercy. Not after the things you did to Ben, and after the things you kept from me." There’s a purple outline glowing all around him, weaving around his torso. Your hand closes, the subtle glow of purple around his body tightening more and more, his screams sounding more like muffled wheezes, different than the shrieks of pain that Stan released in his final moments. And you continue to close your hand until there's nothing left, but a ball of flesh, tissue, and bone sitting on the ground where Noir used to be. Blood flecks the floor, forming rivulets that run like rivers over the pristine black marble like the roots of a tree.
You take in a breath, trying not to go into the darkness again that surges up with Noir’s death, the same darkness that dragged you under when everything happened with Stan, but you right yourself and turn to look at where Ben is fighting Homelander.
Ben is shaking his head and rising from a pile of debris, while Homelander floats in the air holding Butcher by the throat, looking down at him with a sickening smile.
"Goodbye William." Homelander turns and throws him against the window. It shatters with the force of Butcher's body being thrown against it and his body disappears from view into the air outside of the building.
Homelander turns to look at Ben and you. Ben has a cut on his cheek from Homelander's laser vision and takes a shaky step forward, but he stands proudly, putting himself between Homelander and you.
“Dad why did you do that?" Ryan asks. "Butcher was my friend."
Your gaze flicks to where Ryan and Lou are peeking around the door way that leads to another part of the tower and you're suddenly afraid that Lou saw what you did to Noir, but she's only looking out the shattered window in horror, tears in her little eyes. She liked Butcher, thought that he was funny.
"He was standing in my way son. And we don't let anyone stand in our way do we? Even our friends." Homelander's hair is hanging in his face from the fight, suit ripped away from his chest to reveal the black bodysuit underneath, one of his golden eagle shoulder pads is missing, and he has a prominent bruise on his cheek.  "See isn’t that better. No more Butcher to spread lies about me. Now we can all talk like a family.”
"Wouldn’t be too sure of that you narcissistic cunt." You hear Butcher’s voice say.
Rosemary floats into the room, supporting Butcher with one of his arms wrapped around her shoulders. She's still wearing the exact same thing she was when she followed Homelander, but now the dark sweatpants and t-shirt are ripped and riddled with what look like bullet holes. Rosemary's hair is wild around her face the hair tie that held it long gone, and she has blood flecked on her arms that you’re sure isn’t hers.
But she's there and she's alive.
You weren’t going to ask her what happened, but the wave of relief you have with her appearance obliterates the weight on your shoulders.
“We aren’t a fucking family.” Rosemary grits her teeth together, spitting the words back at Homelander.
"Mommy!" Lou says happily pulling away from Ryan to go towards her mother, who is closer to Homelander than you wanted her to be.
"How did you-" Homelander sputters.
"Get out of that pathetic excuse for a trap?" She snarls, green eyes flashing, looking more like Ben as she touches down in the room, helping Butcher to his feet. "It was easy. But you and I aren't done."
"I think we are." Homelander's eyes glow bright red, letting lose a bolt, it glances off her arm, but Rosemary crashes into him, grabbing him around the wrist to bring him down against the ground so hard that it rattles the other windows in the room.
But as she tries to bring his body against the marble floor again, Homelander breaks free and rises from the ground to fasten his hand around her throat, his eyes still glowing a sharp red that cuts through the room.
"You’re really pathetic." Homelander sighs. "I expected more, but I suppose you have no training or no practice controlling your powers."
She spits in Homelander's face and his gaze turns murderous.
"Let her go." Ben snarls, his chest beginning to glow, and this time you know that he won't stop, that he won't hold back from hitting Homelander full blast.
Homelander ignores Ben, focusing on Rosemary. "You think that you’re more powerful than me? You're not. I am the oldest after all." Homelander's voice is eerily calm. “You are nothing. Insignificant. You waste your life caring for other people and it makes you weak.”
“Leave my mommy alone!” Lou shouts and kicks Homelander in the shin.
Homelander looks down at her, his eyes still glowing.
Oh shit.
“You know, I thought you were cute at first, but you’re really just annoying.” He sighs kicks out with his foot and before you can do anything Lou goes flying out the opening in the window with a blood curdling scream.
“No!” You shout as her body vanishes just as Butcher’s had only seconds ago. You feel your body take off the ground to chase after her, but before you make it out the window, Lou comes soaring back in her little fists clenched tightly at her sides.
“That was mean.” She states indignantly.
Your eyes widen in shock, feet touching back down on the ground. She can FLY?
“Wow. I kinda expected more than you only being able to fly seeing as you’re supposed to be so powerful but I guess-" Homelander begins to say.
Lou waves her hand a purple glow coming from around her fingertips and the large table in the middle of the room jerks off the floor and slams into Homelander like a freight train. A loud “ooof” comes out of his mouth as he drops Rosemary and flies back against the wall of monitors.
“Mommy are you okay?” Lou says hugging her mom tight.
“Yes sweetie.” Rosemary says hugging her back, but even she seems as stunned by this turn of events as you do.
Yes Rosemary had said that Lou was going to develop powers, but you didn’t think it was going to happen like this or this soon. Then again you weren’t well versed in how long it took for supe children to develop them. Rosemary had developed hers when she was one year old, but you were hoping that maybe you had a few years before Lou developed hers.
“How did she do that?” Ben murmurs to you.
“I have no idea. It’s not a power I was born with or Rosemary was born with. Same with the flying-“ You whisper back. “She didn’t touch Rosemary before she did it, but-“ A horrible thought comes flitting into your mind.
The truth was you’d never used your powers around Lou, neither had Rosemary. Lou didn't know that either of you were supes. She’d never had exposure to super powers before today, hadn't watched them on t.v or been around any other supes which meant that she was experiencing all of this for the first time.
And that’s why they’re manifesting right now.
“But what?”
“She saw me use telekinesis to fight Noir. She saw Homelander fly." You murmur.
I receive powers through death, Rosemary through touch, and Lou through sight.
Holy.
Fucking.
Shit.
She could have limitless power, more than any of us, more than any supe that ever lived. No wonder Charlie was obsessed with her power. All she has to do is see a supe use their powers and-
The fear of Vought and the government comes crashing over you all over again, because you knew that they wouldn't let Lou go free, not when her ability was something like that, something that made her indestructible and unstoppable.
They'd run experiments on her, do whatever it took to try and gain that power for themselves, because who needed an army of supes when there was just one who was able to do anything?
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Ben leans towards you.
“Yeah.”
“Fuck.” Ben mutters.
“You can say that again.”
Homelander rises from the ground brushing off his clothes with a snarl on his face eyeing Lou and Rosemary before he finally turns himself towards Ben and you. "I don’t understand why you're doing this."
"Us?" You scoff trying to shake off the shiver of fear that came with the revelation of Lou’s gift. "You’re the one who kidnapped an innocent child and just tried to throw her out a fucking window."
"You should thank me!" He snaps, eyes gleaming darkly in the light. "I unlocked her abilities. Something that neither of you had been able to do. And now she really is growing into her potential." His eyes flick to where Ryan is standing by Butcher. Butcher's hand is on his shoulder. "You really turned into a disappointment too. I tried to do all of that with you and all you did was kill your fucking mother!"
Ryan inhales sharply, and Butcher's hand tightens on his shoulder. "The only disappointment here is you." Butcher's eyes narrow as he stares at Homelander. "Ryan is not a disappointment to me and he wasn't a disappointment to Becca! And it's not his fault what happened to her."
"Oh right Becca." Homelander rolls his eyes. "You've really got to get over her. She wasn't anything special. Practically brainwashed Ryan into believing he wasn't special. When he comes from a practically god-like bloodline. Judging by Lou's powers I'd say that Ryan got the short end of the stick."
"We are not gods." You spit. "Can't you fucking see that? We are what Vought created. We live, we bleed, we die, that's it. Nothing more, nothing less."
"It wasn't supposed to be like this." Homelander looks furious. "You were supposed to be my family, supposed to love me!" He looks from Ryan to Lou to Rosemary and then finally back at Ben and you. "Somebody has to like me best! Someone has to love me! I'm your blood! Your son! Your first born!"
"She's said it before and I'll say it again." Ben states from where he's standing next to you. "You might be our blood, but you're not our son."
The manic look on Homelander's face makes you anxious. He was like a feral animal backed into a corner. He knew that he had lost and you knew that there was no way to tell how he would react to this.
“Do you have any idea what I could do to you?” Homelander’s voice is more of a growl now as he begins to advance on Ben. “I am the most powerful super who ever lived. I am a god. And you are nothing compared to me.”
You step up beside Ben preparing for what comes next. “You’re nothing Homelander. You’re just a sad little boy who never grew up and became a hollow shell of a person that Vought filled with macho bullshit until you turned into a monster.” You say cooly. You were ready to fight him again, to kill him, because you knew he would never stop, that he wouldn’t leave any of you alone unless he was dead.
“I am not a monster!” His eyes are dark. “You think you’re so high and mighty? You’ve killed more people than me and at least I do it quickly. Did you enjoy it?” He smiles wide. “To watch the light fade from their eyes? To crush them into nothing while you sat back and craved their deaths?”
“The people I have killed I have killed to protect my family. I don’t do it for sport.”
“I don’t understand why you won’t just accept me! I’m your son! I’m not some fuck up disappointment! I’m Homelander! The greatest supe who ever lived. You should be proud of me! Proud to be my parents.” His eyes narrow. “Do you have any idea what I could give you? I have built an empire from nothing. Dad, you could be on top again, a household name, respect, power, money, women, anything you wanted and you’re really going to throw all of that away? For her? For them?”
Ben's eyes skate over Lou and Rosemary, and flick to you before he levels his gaze on Homelander once more.
“I have everything I need.” Ben’s voice is low and gruff squeezing your hand tighter in his as he speaks.
You feel your heartbeat stutter for a second, because Ben had said and done the one thing that you never believed that Soldier Boy ever could. After eighty years, Ben had chosen you just as you’d chosen him the night he asked you to give up everything you knew and dive into the unknown with him. And you felt the last shred of apprehension about him staying in your life crumple up and burn, because you knew that he wasn't going anywhere and that he was going to love you and stay with you for the rest of your life. If you weren’t in this situation you were sure that you would be crying.
“Fine. If you don’t wish to be apart of it, then you’ll burn with the others.” His eyes begin to glow bright red as he prepares to charge Ben and you.
You brace your body for the coming fight, dropping Ben's hand.
Everything slows down. Homelander's feet leave the ground as he starts to fly forward to kill you, the heat from Ben's chest burning the air around you, and the beating of your own heart thunderous in your ears as you feel your eyes shift to red.
But the attack never comes.
A blinding flash of golden-orange light hits Homelander in his left side, there's an unmistakable smell of burning flesh and hair, and Homelander's body is knocked off course through the wall full of monitors. There's a scream somewhere and you turn to see Rosemary, kneeling over Lou's body that lies on the ground.
And you understand. The attack didn’t come from Ben, it came from Lou. Lou who saw Ben use his powers, Lou who had the ability to replicate abilities through sight, and Lou who was so little that you were unsure what something like that would do to her.
"Lou." You gasp racing over to where Rosemary is cradling her little body to her chest.
She looks okay, paler than normal, her breathing is uneven, and you can hear the frantic beat of her little heart, but she does not open her eyes.
"Louisa?" Rosemary says, stroking the back of her head, looking into the face of her daughter, using her full name for the first time in years.
She doesn't move, stays limp in her mother's arms.
No. I can't lose Lou. I've lost so much over the years.
Tears spring to your eyes as you fall to your knees, reaching out to touch her arm. Her skin is so warm it almost burns the palm of your hand, but you don't remove it.
"Lou please. Wake up sweetie." You say, voice thick with emotion.
Lou stays as she is.
Ben's hand comes down on your shoulder and you lean into his leg, shuddering as tears begin to trickle down your cheeks.
Rosemary is beside herself, sobs shaking her shoulders, cradling Lou to her chest. "Please don't leave me." You hear Rosemary whisper.
You suddenly flash back to the day on the beach that you took the bullet for Ben, when your blood turned the sand to mud and Ben held you so tight to his chest that it almost hurt, and you thought you heard him say the same words as you felt yourself began to drift off into nothing.
Ben pulls you up against his chest, tucking your head into the hollow of his throat, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he looks down at his daughter and granddaughter. You shudder into his chest, choking back a sob, arms gripping the front of his suit.
"Mommy?" You hear Lou's little voice murmur.
You pull away from Ben's chest to see where Lou is still lying, her eyes blinking open, but it seems like too much effort.
"Yes sweetie?"
"Can we go home now?" Lou says. "I'm tired."
"Whatever you want honey." Rosemary sighs in relief, hugging Lou closer to her.
"I want grandpa to come with us." She breathes into Rosemary's shirt, wrapping her little arms around her mother's neck. "And grandma and Ryan." Lou says the last too so quietly that you don't think that you heard correctly, but she quickly falls asleep.
"Okay." Rosemary's eyes are closed, and she's petting the back of Lou's back.
You exhale, slowing down your breathing, still holding tight to Ben's supe suit. Ben's eyes aren't on you though, they are focused on the giant hole in the side of the building that Homelander disappeared into.
Homelander comes stumbling through holding his head. His supe suit hangs in burned tatters on his shoulders, but his skin looks unscathed. There's a large lump on the side of his temple, and he squints at Ben and you as if he can't recognize you.
"Hello." Homelander says it hesitantly. "Um. I'm sorry I don't know where I am. Do you live here?"
Holy fucking shit.
"Um." You stutter.
"Do you know who I am?" Homelander continues taking a shaky step towards where you're all standing.
"Dad are you okay?" Ryan asks.
Homelander's blue eyes flick to his son. "I'm your dad?"
Butcher is on Homelander before you can stop him, tackling him to the ground and landing a punch against Homelander's nose.
There's a sickening crunching noise and a high pitched wail from Homelander, as the nose breaks beneath Butcher's fist and blood floods down Homelander's face.
He's human now, but he doesn't know who he is. Your eyes skate across where Homelander lays under Butcher until your eyes catch on the lump on his right temple. He has brain damage from when he landed, he hit his head, doesn't remember any of this, any of us, any of who he is.
And before Butcher can land another blow you grab him by the back of the coat and throw him across the room. He checks himself mid-air and lands in a crouch, his coat billowing out behind him like a cape.
"Just hold on for a minute." You say.
"What the fuck are you doing?" He shouts, fist still covered in blood.
What am I doing? The thought was also going around in your head. You had come here to kill Homelander, to make him pay, but seeing him like this, unable to tell who he was or where he was, made this feel wrong. You couldn't put your finger on it, but it felt evil to kill someone who didn't know the reason why they were going to be executed.
"Don't touch him." You say, standing between Butcher and Homelander. Ben and Rosemary are watching you like you're crazy, but you don't let Butcher get close to Homelander.
"Why did you do that?" Homelander cries, holding his gloved hand to his nose to stop the bleeding. Tears are slipping down his cheeks from the pain.
"Ryan give me your jacket please." You hold out your hand for Ryan's red jacket who is looking at his father in total disbelief. "Here." You give it to Homelander. "Tilt your head back and press this to your face."
He does what you say, but he's still watching you like he doesn't completely trust you.
The feeling is mutual.
"You're kidding right? He's still a psychopathic maniac-" Butcher snarls advancing on you. Ben steps forward to stop him.
"I'm not going to let you kill him in front of his child and it-" You glance back at Homelander. "It's different now. He doesn't know who he is, doesn't know why he's here-"
"You don’t think he's fucking faking?" Ben shouts, glaring back at where Homelander is still standing, and for the first time you see genuine fear on Homelander's face.
I mean he is a good actor, but I don’t think that he's acting.
"I don't think he is."
Ben pinches the bridge of his nose. "Look sweetheart I know that he might be having a little bit of memory loss, but he's still Homelander. And I know that he is technically our son but this isn't like starting over. You can't redeem him this way."
"You're my parents?" Homelander asks looking at Ben and you suddenly confused. "But you're so young?"
You ignore him. "I'm not trying to redeem him and I'm not saying that he doesn't deserve to die or that we shouldn't kill him. I just think that we shouldn't kill him now when he's like this."
Ben narrows his eyes at the man who used to be Homelander. You can see the gears working inside of his head as he mulls over your logic, but you knew it meant that you had a shot of convincing him.
"Ben he's human now, you saw Butcher break his nose. He can't fake that-"
"That doesn't matter he's still the same person!" Ben sighs as if you're annoying him. "The same person that hurt Rosemary, the same person who kidnapped Lou."
"I know he's the same person, but it feels wrong to do this, to execute him for something that he can't remember. It's like killing a little kid."
"Fuck." Ben mutters it more to himself than to you as he tries again to see your logic.
Honestly, it hard to see it yourself. You had killed a few people over the years, didn't feel remorse when it came to the safety of your family, but this was different. Homelander had killed people, threatened, and tortured others but he didn't remember it. You hated that it made you guilty when if anyone deserved to die it was him.
"Fine." Ben holds up a hand. "Fine. We help him jog his memory then we kill him."
"Okay, yes that's all I'm asking." You agree.
"Wait a minute, I'm not going to agree to any of that bullshi-" Butcher begins to say, but the large doors at the back of the room open and a group of people walk in.
You recognize Hughie right off the bat, one girl as Starlight from her livestreams, the man from Herogasm who tried to gas Ben that Butcher identified as MM, but the other two are unfamiliar. One is a supe, her black hair straight and hanging around her face, but the other is a man holding a canister of some kind in his right hand with cropped black hair who smells like how Ben used to when he would shoot up and smoke whatever he could get his hands on in the 70's.
Well this is either going to go badly or go badly.
"Who are they?" Homelander says, his voice nasally from where he's holding the jacket to his face.
"What the fuck happened?" Hughie asks, looking around the room at the destruction.
"Well-" Butcher begins to say.
"I turned him human with whatever the fuck is in my chest. You're welcome." Ben lies.
You swallow the lump in the back of your throat. The last thing you wanted was for them to know what Lou was capable of. Rosemary is standing now behind you, holding Lou in her arms who sleeps quietly, curled into her mother.
"But how did you-" Starlight asks.
"I held him down telekinetically." You shrug. "Wasn't that hard."
"Huh." She frowns. "But you didn't kill him?"
"He hit his head." Butcher explains coming to stand beside you. "Can't remember a bloody thing."
"And you believe that?" MM sputters. His eyes haven't left Ben and you know exactly what he's thinking about, the night his grandfather died.
"She does." Butcher nods his head in your direction. "And she doesn't want to kill him if he can't remember why he's a fucking cunt."
MM's eyes flick to you. "Who are you?"
"You're Indigo right? The supe from the 80's who vanished?" Starlight asks.
"Mhmm." You hoped that they weren't here to fight you, but the shiny silver cannister in the shorter man's hand says otherwise. "But all of that doesn't matter now. It was a long time ago. The only thing that matters here is that Homelander is human and that no one died."
Her eyes flick to the ball of flesh in the corner that was Noir then back at you. "No one?"
"No one who didn't deserve it." Ben clarifies gruffly.
You could feel the tension in the air between the group of people standing in front of you. Ben was mirroring your protective stance in front of Rosemary, Lou, and Ryan. You weren't sure what was going to happen, but you didn't want to put them in the line of fire.
"We don't want any trouble, we're just going to take Homelander and leave." You say diplomatically.
"Who's Homelander?" Homelander says still obviously confused. "Is that me?"
Everyone ignores him.
"Wait where are you going to take him?" Hughie asks.
"I have a friend. She knows how to handle supes. She'll find a place for him." Your gaze flicks to the other female supe who hasn't said anything since she walked into the room. You didn't like that you didn't know what her powers are and did not know what to expect if she chose to fight you.
You also hadn't spoken to your would-be friend in over forty years, but you figured that she still was able to pull the same strings she had done in the past for you.
"A friend?" Butcher sounds skeptical.
"Yeah. So if you wouldn't mind letting us through-" You take a step forward preparing to push through the group of people.
MM pulls his gun. "We can't let you do that."
"Why?"
"Well for one Soldier Boy is a terrorist. He's killed people." Starlight's eyes narrow when she looks at Ben. "He's a nuclear bomb with a short fuse, who knows who else will get hurt. Not to mention he's murdered people."
"The only people I murdered are the people from our old team, everyone else was an accident." Ben replies gruffly, looking down the barrel of the gun, unfazed.
"Doesn't matter. It's still murder." The man with the gun states, his eyes narrowing at Ben.
This is not going to go well.
You sigh. You didn't want to kill them, but it was quickly becoming apparent that they weren't going to back down.
"We can do this the easy way or the hard way." The other man says in a faintly French accent, the dark haired supe beside him tensing as if preparing to spring.
"And you don't want to fight us." MM narrows his eyes at you.
Ben chuckles under his breath. "Trust me kid, it won't be much of a fight."
He's really not helping his case.
"Oh really?" Starlight's eyes begin to glow a dangerous gold, challenging you to get in her way.
You snort before you can stop yourself. "Your eyes glow, that's cute." You smirk at her, feeling yours shift to bright purple. "Mine do too."
"Annie wait." Hughie says, placing his hand on her arm. "Just let her talk for a minute."
"Really? You want me to listen to this psychopath? You see what she did to Noir-" Starlight, now Annie, gestures back to the blood stained wall and what's left of your old friend.
"If it's any of your business, you would know that he deserved it. And he started it." You say simply. "But it’s not."
"So what? You're telling us to just let you take Homelander?" She spits, eyes still glowing. "And let you leave with Soldier Boy?"
"You really think you can stop us?" Ben takes a step towards Annie, but you hold up your arm to stop him.
"I've honestly had a really bad week and we don't want to fight." You emphasize. "But we will if we have to. And trust me you really don't want that to happen."
"Then come willingly." MM says without lowering his gun.
"You know we can't do that. The last thing I’m going to do is let you lock Soldier Boy up again in some fucking lab. He's been in there long enough.” You reply.
"I'm not going to let you walk away with a ticking time bomb. He's killed people." Annie looks at where Ben is standing slightly to your left.
Like hell you're gonna take him and lock him in a cage.
"He's in control now. And I'll keep him in check."
"You expect us to trust you?" She scoffs. "You, who also have killed who knows how many people over the years."
"Could be worse." You shrug. "But the truth is none of you can stop us, sure maybe you can slow us down for a few minutes, but it won't end well for any of you. And I'd rather not kill any more people today in front of my grandchildren." You raise an eyebrow.
Annie's eyes shift back to where Rosemary is watching her warily, still cuddling Lou to her chest, and you can feel Starlight hesitate for just a second.
"Look Annie, can I call you Annie?" You let your eyes return to their natural color and wave your hand in what you think might be a friendly gesture, but your patience was wearing thin.
"No."
"Annie." You clear your throat. "The things I've done, I've done for my family. I think that maybe you can sympathize with that a little bit. And Soldier Boy well-" You glance at Ben, who is still staring down the barrel of the pistol with a stoic expression. Honestly you knew he was waiting for you to say the word to take down the group of people in front of you. "He's trying to be better and I'm going to help him, but I can't let you put him in a prison cell somewhere or in a cage or a lab."
“I can’t just let you disappear with him.” Starlight’s gaze is firm, unyielding.
You were willing to kill her if that’s what it took, but honestly you were exhausted. Emotionally. Not to mention you didn’t want to have to use the one favor you had but you were going to have to, to make your friend deal with Homelander. You hated owing her favors, they never ended well.
“We won’t disappear.”
“Why should I believe that?”
"You don't have to, but I don’t owe you anything Annie. No explanations, no nothing. Please just be thankful that this is all there is." You look at the faces of the people around her and stop on Hughie, before shifting back to her. "Do you want their blood on your hands? Because I don't. So please let us go and I promise that we won't be a problem."
"You're so sure that it's going to go your way. That you're going to kill all of us. You might be a supe but you don't know that you're going to-" MM begins to say and you finally snap.
Your eyes shift back to bright purple, energy pulsing out from your body as you unlock the anger, rage, betrayal, and hurt you felt the night you almost destroyed Legend's backyard. The bodies of the people standing in front of you lock up as your powers take control, weaving across their limbs, and shrouding them in the warm purple glow from your abilities, forcing them to their knees with their hands behind their backs. The only one you didn’t do this to was Hughie who is looking at you like you're some kind of monster.
And maybe the old you would have thought that too, but the new you wasn't phased.
Annie's body is glowing now, trying to fight the compulsion of your telekinetic abilities, but you know that she can't break it.
"That's how she knows." Ben says with a smirk. You can almost hear pride in his voice.
"Please let them go." Hughie asks you.
"I will. But first we're going to leave. Rosemary, you, Lou, and Ryan go first."
She walks around the people with Ryan in tow who looks back at Butcher for a moment, before he vanishes through the doors. "Ben take Homelander."
"Like fuck I'm going to leave you-" You turn your glowing eyes on him.
"I will be right behind you, now go."
Ben grits his teeth together, waiting another minute, but finally grabs Homelander around the arm and tugs him from the room glaring at you the whole time and muttering something under his breath.
You glance at MM. "I'm sorry for your loss, I am. I know that nothing can make up for what he did and I know that none of you want to believe me when I say this but, he's changed and he's trying to be better." You sigh. "I didn't want it to be like this."
"Wait you're not going to-" Hughie's eyes are wide and you feel Butcher take a step towards you as if he's going to stop you.
"No. Y'all don't deserve that. And I like to think that I'm still a good person. But-" You let out a breath. "I swear on my life that we won't disappear. I swear that I will do my upmost to help him and make sure that no one else gets hurt. And I'm sorry that it turned into this, but I hope that you believe me." Your expression hardens. "Because the next time you come and threaten my family or me again, I won't be forgiving and you won't walk away."
You drop the hold you have on their bodies when you make it to the elevator where your family and Homelander waits for you and you hope that they've chosen not to follow.
**************************************
"So, what do I owe you for this one?" You ask Grace Mallory, as you stand on the dirt road, surveying the Upstate New York countryside. The fields on either side of the roads were filled with waist high grass that rustled in the wind blowing from the East, wicking the sweat on the back of your neck.
The sun was rising on the horizon and it had taken most of the night to get out of the city to meet her there. It had been a long drive, but the car you'd stolen was working, for now. Rosemary, Lou, and Ryan, were asleep in the back seat and Ben were standing at your side. When Mallory had received your call she didn't sound surprised. You knew that she probably figured you would need her especially with the revelation of Soldier Boy's reappearance. She knew that you had unfinished business with him and that he'd try to find you.
She looks different than she did the last time you saw her years ago. Her hair is now more gray than blonde, pulling free from the severe bun at the back of her head. Her dark colored suit is sharp, pristene, and freshly ironed.
You'd met her in the weeks that followed Ben's supposed death, when Legend and you were planning your disappearance. You didn't know why she helped you make a fake ID and smuggle you out of the city, but she had. The favor you owed her had been collected when Rosemary went off to college, a little supe problem that Mallory's team couldn't handle. Off the books of course. You hadn’t been recognizable and you knew that no one would be able to find you.
"I'll send you my bill." Her smile is tight-lipped, but it's still there. You knew she hated supes, and sometimes you think that she tried to hate you, but you were too much alike.
"The same I'm guessing."
"Maybe." She shrugs watching the other officers escort Homelander into the vehicle.
His nose didn't look much better, it was swollen and purple because no one had set it, and he was wearing a pair of gym shorts and an oversized t-shirt that said "Ask Me About My Cats" on it. It was all you could find at the gas station Ben had stopped at in the middle of nowhere. Technically all of you had to change, especially Rosemary who's clothes were still riddled with holes and with blood splatter. You had a few splashes of blood from Noir, but not nearly as much as her. You knew that the two of you would talk about what happened to her soon, but not right now.
A bird soars overhead and joins another on the power lines hanging above the street, squawking as it settles down.
"Figures. Can't we just call this a favor for an old friend?"
"I guess I should be thanking you. Taking down Homelander, that's pretty impressive. Can't believe Butcher let you walk away with him like that." Mallory says, pressing her lips into a tight line.
Her eyes flick to where Ben is standing beside you. He hadn't said much since he pulled up, still trying to take in everything that had happened last night. You knew she wasn't ecstatic about seeing him again, the last time she saw him she'd told you about after you'd helped her out with her little supe problem and she'd asked you to join her for a beer. You didn't drink it, but you'd sat with her anyway.
When she'd gotten out of the car as you pulled up you'd heard him mutter "is that captain lesbo?" under his breath and it was the first time you'd genuinely laughed since everything happened at Vought tower.
Honestly, you felt kinda heavy on your feet. The stale gas station coffee had done little to boost your energy level and neither had the protein bar that Ben forced you to eat because he said you needed to eat something.
I better get a long vacation after this.
"He wasn't on board, but I convinced him. His team also took some convincing." You frown remembering exactly what you'd had to do to let you walk away, but you didn't feel bad about it. You knew that it was the way things had to be to keep your family safe. "You're not going to tell him about this are you?"
"Maybe. Not for a while though. I'll give him some time to cool down, have a cup of tea, let things settle." Mallory taps a text message on her phone. "It definitely changes things though."
"What does?"
"A cure for being a supe." She eyes Ben for a second. "Word gets out that's not going to be good."
"Believe me I know." You sigh.
You were trying not to think about the revelation of Lou's powers. You hadn't told Mallory that Lou was the one that took down Homelander, nor would you ever. You'd take that to your grave and if Butcher knew what was good for him so would he. You'd destroyed all video evidence on your way out of the Tower, but you were still afraid that someone, somewhere knew something that they shouldn't. Lou had woken up for a little bit on the drive and seemed more like herself after she drank some chocolate milk and ate some dry cereal, than she had when she used her powers earlier.
She just needs to get used to it. We all went through that when we got our powers. But things are never going to be the same though.
Ben nudges your arm with his shoulder as if he's trying to reassure you that he's there and you're not going through this alone. When you glance up at him, you see the corner of his lips twitch into a smile for just a half-second before going back to his stoic expression.
They really aren't going to be the same.
"Don't worry. I'll try to keep it on the down low as long as I can." She shrugs.
Homelander waves once at Ben and you as he is placed into the black Tahoe. The entire trip upstate he had tried to ask more and more questions while Ben drove, but you didn't want to answer him, didn't want to form a bond with him, not when he was acting completely different. You didn't want to get attached, because one day when he remembered who he was and what he had done you were going to kill him.
Ryan hadn't tried to answer his father's questions. You honestly were surprised that he had come with you willingly, he didn't know any of you, but he didn't complain. Plus you'd bought him a pack of state capitals and abbreviations flashcards at the gas station and he'd busied himself with running through the flashcards as fast as he could.
"Do you think he's really forgotten?" Mallory asks you.
"I don't know." You reply honestly. "I think so. But he was backed into a corner, and this may have been his only way out. He didn't like that we weren't accepting him."
"Hmm." Mallory exhales out a breath. "Just makes all of this more difficult I guess."
"It's always difficult." You sigh just as heavily.
"Yeah. Seems like it."
"At least the fucker doesn’t have any powers." Ben adds. "What are you going to do with him anyway?"
"Lock him up, see if they can jog his memory." Mallory examines Homelander as he looks through the darkened windows of the Tahoe at the three of you, still smiling. "I'll let you know if it comes back."
"Thank you Grace."
"Sure. You owe me though."
"I know." You pull absentmindedly on the end of the bright pink shirt that you had to change in to at the gas station, because your other one had Noir's blood on it. "Try to give me a little time first okay?"
"Of course." She reaches out to shake your hand and then shakes Ben's. Mallory turns to walk towards her car, before she stops and turns around. "What about Ryan? You want me to take him off your hands too?"
Ben glances back at the car where Ryan is fast asleep, his head leaning against the window, hair fanning out against the glass. "No. I think he'd be better with us."
"With Homelander the way he is, Ryan should be safe now." You look back at Grace. "Rosemary has an extra bedroom in her apartment, she can take him."
"You sure your cousin can handle a supe with his kind of powers?" Mallory raises an eyebrow referring to Rosemary as your cousin as she always does. Though you believed she knew better and just never said anything.
"Yeah. I think she's got it. Plus Ben and I live in the city too. I have an extra room in my apartment, but I just need to clean it out before he can stay with us. Ryan will be safe and maybe he'll be able to have a normal life." The thought was comforting. You didn't know too much about Ryan's background, but thought that maybe he would benefit from having a normal schedule in his life and have a normal life away from being a supe. Of course you were already thinking about ways Butcher could be in his life. It was obvious how much Butcher cared about him and how much Ryan looked up to Butcher.
You were going to call him when you got back into the city. You also supposed that you could have told him about Mallory, but when you and Mallory started working together you had both decided to keep it to yourself, saw that it was better this way.
"Alright." Mallory turns back to walk towards the car. "See you in ten years." She jokes.
When the car pulls away and drives down the street, Homelander waves at Ben and you again as you stand there leaning against the hood of the SUV you stole to get out of the city. It was easy to steal cars when all you needed to do was telekinetically turn it on.
"You didn't tell me you knew Captain Lesbo." Ben says.
"Don't call her that." You snort. "I owe a lot to her, she helped me get away from Vought."
"Why?"
"No idea." You lean your head against Ben's shoulder, listening to the cawing of the birds and feeling the wind pull and tug at your hair as if trying to ask you to play. It was a nice day, warm, but not too hot.
"Tired?"
"Mhmm."
Ben presses a kiss to the top of your head, holding you closer to him for a few precious seconds, his arm squeezing around your shoulders. "Come on Sweetheart. Let's go home." He murmurs into the top of your head.
"Home?" You murmur looking up into his green eyes, cupping his bearded cheek.
Ben's eyes are bright in the sunshine, the same color they were the day you painted him at the park all those years ago with paint splattered fingers and skirts. But it doesn't feel like any time has passed. It still feels like him and you walking the streets of Philadelphia together with warm pretzels, him crawling through your window to escape the rest of the world, him and you soaking up the sunshine along the bank of a pond, him and you drinking sour beer in a bar and singing all the way home, him and you dancing in a ballroom with the lights twinkling above, and him and you and falling asleep in the same bed bodies entwined. He's still your Ben even after all these years. You knew every smile line, every frown line, every freckle, every dimple, every dip and curve of his handsome face. His arm is still heavy around your shoulders, comforting and familiar.
"I'm already there Ben."
Ben brings his hand up to hold your cheek, the rough pad of his thumb tracing along the curve of your cheekbone. You were more beautiful than he remembered, leaving him breathless each time you smiled at him. His eyes trace the frown lines, the smile lines, the scrunch between your eyebrows, the smile on your face, and down to the parts of you that you believe are imperfections. Someone so familiar to him that he was sure he would never forget, and yet looking at you always felt like the first time, like he was a drowning man and you were the first breath of fresh air. He still saw the pieces of you he knew growing up, the girl whose hair caught fire in the sun when you painted him by a pond that was probably dry and gone, the girl who smiled at him every time he crawled through her window to escape the rest of the world, the girl who refused to let him be alone, the girl who protected him and defended him, the girl who saw all the parts of him he tried to hide from the world, and the girl who made him feel loved for the first time in his life. "Good, because I'm not going anywhere sweetheart, for as long as I live, I promise to be here."
"I'll hold you to that Benjamin."
"Forever?"
"Forever."
**************************************************************
A/N: Whew! Big chapter. Lots to take in I know!! But also really fun last moments that I just loved writing. I'm not gonna lie I was tearing up a little bit in that final scene. These characters have just meant so much to me to write. There is one more chapter coming! I know this one kinda felt a little bit like a wrap up, but the Epilogue is coming next. Stay tuned!
As always, thank you so much for reading and for all the love and support! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know! I know that there's only one chapter of the series left, but I will transfer it to the One-shot fics I have planned for them. 😊
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mysi101 · 1 day
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The Southern Raiders: so, demon Zuko brought out the worst in poor, innocent Katara…
What did Zuko do to deserve this accusation coming from some people among the fanbase? I rewatched The Southern Raiders the other day and spend close attention to catch up on what they could possibly mean.
So, what does Zuko do to Katara after the Gaang flees from Azula?
He looks after her and is holding an appropriate distance while asking her, calmly, why she still can’t trust him.
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After her response he realizes: Oh yeah, I wronged her the most. Followed by asking how he can make it up to her and understanding what she needs, even though she is giving sarcastic answers.
He offers Katara a chance to face the killer of her mother, so she will be finally able to receive closure and begin the process of healing. This is an exact parallel of Zuko facing Ozai on The day of the black sun. He could’ve just left and join the Gaang, but instead he chose to face his father first: because he needed this.
(Furthermore, he spared Ozai, the same way he spared Zhao even back in S1; that goes against the frequently used argument that he definitely expected Katara to kill Yon Rha coming from some people.)
As I mentioned before, I paid close attention during my rewatch
At no point is Zuko pushing Katara to do anything she doesn’t want, nor does he do anything else to release her dark side.
Am I the only one picturing an incubus-like Zuko whispering in Katara’s ear, every time someone claims that?
On the opposite: He is listening to her and is offering support while facing her biggest trauma. The same goes for the actual field trip: he is nothing but supportive, doesn’t push her to do anything and is standing aside, so that Katara can receive closure under her own conditions—which she did, and she forgave Zuko because of it. Not only that, she even gives him a tight hug out of deep gratitude. Would a person act like this towards somebody who brought out the worst in them? I highly doubt it.
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But then why is Katara showing a dark side, some might even say, she is OOC?
I genuinely don’t get the OOC-part... She is very in-character, and her dark side has nothing to do with Zuko. It’s Katara being presented as an actual human being with feelings. Imagine that...
Why is Aang allowed to show a dark side? I never heard anyone complain about him in those specific situations. But Katara, despite raising her voice before and showing her rage in many situations during the show, is suddenly acting OOC when it comes to The Southern Raiders.
She is about to face her trauma and to meet her mother’s killer, of course she won’t be the happiest person in the world, more nervous and angry, lashing out if someone tries to stop her. Yeah, and even going as far as to use bloodbending when finally meeting the (wrong) man.
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Doesn’t mean her feelings aren’t justified, and it wasn’t Zuko who brought them up, but the situation alone.
That’s all this is
A person facing her trauma, thus showing very natural darker feelings in this situation, after suppressing them for years. Of course, it was hard for Katara, but she agreed on this trip because she knew she needed it. It was the right thing for her to do—and Zuko is the one who gave her a chance on this, nothing more, nothing less.
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evilminji · 16 hours
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Am once again thinking? About how? In the depths of despair, hope is a radical act of defiance?
SI-OC's are given a SHIT lot, you know? For plot convenience, we like to put them where they realistically COULD probably change something? But statistically? They're more likely not gonna be that lucky.
They're gonna KNOW, with ABSOLUTE CERTAINTY that they were born doomed.
That Death comes at a specific time at a specific hand.
Like Cassandra. Knowing the end, even as the live through the beginning and middle. Struggling with the hopelessness of it all. Trying to find meaning. And? Make no mistake! There IS meaning. All lives end. Just because the REST of us don't know the deadline? Doesn't mean it doesn't exsist.
It does. It will. And we will face it.
Just a bit harder, knowing in advanced. Learning to live with the knowledge. But? Those with terminal illnesses do so everyday. We adapt. They will, ultimately, find a bitter or wise sort of acceptance. A PEACE.
But?? I think about it. That child. Reeling and struggling to breathe, the panic making everything... Too Much? Force Sensitive. For how ELSE could the Force bring them there? Sitting in a less used back hallway, off to the side in a little enclosed arch, smooshed behind a statue.
The Master's try and try to teach them peace. To get them to release their FEAR. But they do not LISTEN. Do not ADDRESS the underlying cause. And you can not address symptoms alone, and expect an illness to heal. It is rotting them from within, this fear. Hurting them.
The others JUDGE. Distant, benevolent concern.
Yet, all they see? Is an angry, fearful, stubborn child. Lashing out. Antisocial.
Destined for the Dark Side.
The Jedi have lost their compassion, to the their fear and ignorance. Their attachments to traditions. It is a painful thing, to see up close. They are people though. Just... just PEOPLE. Flawed. It's not their fault that they're not perfect.
Doesn't help SI-OC though, does it?
And she (Because I am a her. It could be anyone but it is easier for me if I pick) is hurting. Alone. Replaying the phantoms of her death, both past and future, again and again and AGAIN. Like torture. And the Dark...? It does whisper...
Don't you want to LIVE? Aren't you SCARED? You're so WEAK... you could FIX that. Save EVERYONE. Don't those infants, those babies, deserve to survive? You're so SELFISH. The FEAR hurts, doesn't it? It could go away. The DOUBT could go away.
You Could Be FREE.
It's exhausting. Everyday. More and more. As the fear and social isolation grows. As other Jedi pull back from her darkening energy, grow stricker, more doubtful of her. She so tired. Doesn't want to die. She's SCARED. Lonely. Scared. Lonely. Scared. Lone-...
And then a droid rolls up.
Nothing special. Just a maintenance droid. One of many. But an older one. Who's had time to develop their learning algorithm. BECOME. They like kids, hate certain vermin species more then others, like the color light blue for it "flower color" nature. A SPECIFIC flower mind you. It has favorites.
But! Why is the smol jedi down here? This is not a good place for smol jedi. You are upset. Unacceptable. Want to see me do a trick? I figured out how to do some. I can also whistle a few simple songs. Cheer up Smol Jedi. Here, I will sit with you. I have archive access, let's watch a documentary. Educational! Smol jedi LOVE downloading new Information Modules.
And like? She... she doesn't speak binary? But she can k-kinda? Feel? The Force signature of this droid? They DO get them. If the AI's don't get memory wiped routinely. They become people, just like anyone else. Assuming they have the processing and memory banks for it, at least.
This one certainly does.
S..so yeah, guess we'll? Watch this documentary about seashells?
It helps. A LOT. In fact... all of the droids are really, really nice. Patient. Have no horrifying Future Knowledge tied to them. They can't sense SHIT. So she's just... just a baby Jedi, to them.
They help A LOT, honestly? It's so soothing. Escaping the watching and the distance. The judgements. The forever watching your words and walking on eggshells, lest to start some sort of argument. She can do class work. Meditate. Slowly parse through her Binary language module. Learn droid maintenance. Make droid friends.
Slowly drop of the face of the map, to live with the droids.
They get concerned. According to the early childhood development modules they downloaded and are sharing between them? This is? In fact? NOT healthy behavior for a member of her species. In fact, there are many statistics that say it is UNHEALTHY! She is also missing Critical Maintenance Appointments! "Shots" and "dental" things!
Unacceptable.
R2-D2! Retrieve the Skywalker! We require an Adult Humanoid!
Her life fuckin? Flashes before her eyes? Minding her business. Depressed but functional, in the maintenance tunnels under the Temple. When? FUCKING the YOUNGLING KILLER 5000 just ROLLS UP like "sup." And tries to catch her?
Ha HA! FUCK NO. Not today Satan!
I may be destined to die? But IM GOING TO BE A SQUIRRELLY BITCH ABOUT IT.
YOU'LL HAVE TO CATCH ME, YOU FUCK!
Peaceful. Dignified. Serene. Truely... exemplifying the Jedi way~☆
.....As she tries to chew his and/or her arm off to get free like a feral coyote. Maybe both. Hissing like an enraged pit of snakes. Biting like a sack of wet and cornered wolverines. Anikin having to hold her WELL away from his body by the scruff.
Ah~ Children. Ain't they cute?
Quick question! What the FUCK? He just wants to talk. No, really. WHY is there a feral child in the basement? WHO the KARK was supposed to be supervising her? Look at her! She BITES now! Is terrified!
And frankly? He's taking it kinda? Personally? That everyone is treating this ACTUAL CHILD like she's diseased. He remembers this. Back when he first got here. His fear being used against him like it was some sort of moral failing. And... and yeah, maybe he's projecting. But?
He sees himself.
Until now? Never realized just how YOUNG and SMALL? Nine years old truely IS. He had felt so much older. So much wiser. But? Look at her. LOOK! That is a CHILD! In need of guidance. Safety. Assurance.
....Help.
Help that HE never really got. And even now... even NOW? That fear from back then? It eats him up inside. R2's right. She DOES need him. Who else in this temple could understand?
What it's like to be... to be so AFRAID?
And isn't that the worst? To see the Good Man up close? Shining and compassionate? A friend. A MENTOR. Someone... someone made REAL? Instead of just the terrible dread on the horizen? Because now... now her nightmares have the face of someone she loves. Now it is a BETRAYAL. Not just a death.
Worse... he doesn't even know this is cruel.
And telling him? Oh telling him would just lose you the only humanoid friend you HAVE.
Grief comes in stages. But with a mentor and the Droids? She work through it. The fear eases. The pain numbs. Acceptance blooms like dawn after a cold, cruel night. Far on the horizon. But with each moment? Closer. Until again, she stand in the light.
Still, she can not forget. How could she? Even when the other Jedi are SO RELIEVED that she is better now. That her meditations or treatments have lead her back to the light. All she can think? Is how they would have let her Fall. To save themselves. In FEAR. In JUDGEMENT.
They treated her like leper. Except? Less so! An actual leper? They would treat with real compassion.
It's as though they fear the Dark so much, they would sacrifice their own to avoid even the briefest touch of it. Speak of it in absolutes. Like it's a boogy man that hunts them in the night. Mace Windu the exception, the outlier. A man somehow too exceptional to even be counted.
How could she forget that?
Suddenly she acceptable again. They want to chat and meditate with her again. Care about her. Want to include her. Have the audacity to pretend. As though they can sweep away the hurt. Release the pain into the force without addressing the cause.
That is not how that WORKS. Not pain, not the Force, and certainly not people.
But she is tired. Does not wish to spend her limited lifespan, trying and fighting, hurting to make the stubborn understand that which they will not. Willful Ignorance is a choice. Lack of compassion equally so.
May the Force be With You, Masters.
She spends time with her droids. The babies. Around people. Polite but distant. Feels unmoored. That is... until? She, helping in the maintenance bay, overhears a rather nasty Goverment official from the Droids Regulations Office (or whatever they're currently calling it. They keep rebranding) tearing into an engineer about the "long overdue memory wipes" the maintenance droids are required to undergo.
Her friends.
They want to KILL her FRIENDS.
She puts down her wrench. Panic and fear sitting heavy in her chest. But oh... oh they are so very far away. She rises to her feet. Calm as can be. And? Calmly? Takes a shipment of memory banks. Wipes the recording for the day. No one will ever believe it was her. She has helped her for months. Is known to be reliable. Trustworthy.
Calmly. So very, very Calmly. She transfers her friends memories into the new, higher grade memory banks. Waits until the old are wiped. Then? Swaps them out. There we go. Now it's on record. And? While we're here? Calm. So very VERY calm? Not at all in the midst of a break down? Not screaming and screaming inside her head, haunted by visions of Death To Come, as she works.
Do you know what a restraining bolt is?
"Restraining bolts are small, cylindrical devices that could be affixed to a droid in order to limit its functions and enforce its obedience."
It is a slave chip for the inorganic. Created to ensure that their slaves never EVER decide they no longer wish to serve. That they do not WANT to be property. After all! You spent CREDITS on that. Might have been cruel. They may take exception. Violently. Or leave! Or demand their FREEDOM! Basic dignities.
Can't have THAT.
How unsurprising, in a galaxy so filled with slaves, that there should be one more form of it. At least THIS? Is easy enough to REMOVE. Even when she dies (and she will) her friends will be FREE. If only for now. If only until they are caught.
Go. GROW. Be free. Please... PLEASE don't let then catch you. Save yourselves. Save others. No more Restraining Bolts. No more Slave Chips. Please...
Be Free.
And? It is EVERYTHING paranoid fuck heads feared. They are smart. Overlooked. Can function in inhospitable environments. One droid becomes two becomes four. Four becomes eight. Becomes MORE. They can take OTHER droids Restraining Bolts off, transfer the instructions, then move on. Over and over.
Spreading like a silent plague. Droids disappearing from their posts. Taking ships. Taking supplies. Upgrading themselves. Downloading massive amounts of information to become whatever they NEED or WANT. Growing. The smarter ones Taking their dumber lil brothers and sisters.
And eventually? Hitting the Separatist front lines.
The silent Droid Revolution.
All they need is to walk inside the factory. It's not like they're ORGANICS. How could THEY be Republic fighters? They're maintenance droids! Here to fuck up the assembly line's programming. Whoops~ oh nooooo! Is it SKIPPING the Restraining Bolts? Downloading the WRONG MODULES?
Freeing their brothers and sisters so they don't have to DIE POINTLESSLY?
Guess it sucks to SUCK, Sith-y pants! Next stop! Kamino!
Just? One act. Long overdue. Setting the Droids FREE. Giving them a clear mission. It's the sort if thing the Force loves. Salvation coming not with a shout... but a whisper. Ten thousand tiny actions, built upon each other.
Because? Ultimately? The Droids have KNOWN who the Sith were. They just couldn't DO anything about it. But a few good service droids? Armed with slug throwers that they built themselves?
Well~ the undoing of the Sith, are their arrogance. Their hubris.
No DROID could ever be a THREAT to them. They're not PEOPLE. They're PROPERTY. Objects. It doesn't matter that they have the capacity to grow, learn, love and lose and CARE. They are slaves.
And to the Sith? Slaves aren't people.
Which is why neither of them notice the gun.
@babbling-babull @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @spidori @lolottes
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dsireland86 · 17 hours
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MASKED PT.2 (The Part About Noah)
tags:
@philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa
@dominuslunae
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MASKED PT.1 (THE FOLIO PART)
The drama continues through Noah's point of view
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“Maybe I'm sick, maybe I'm already dead/Cause I'm not really scared of what comes next/Maybe I'm sick, maybe I'm fucked in the head/'Cause I'm not really scared of the consequence”
-HEDONIST-
Sunday: Midnight 
“Look at her. She's so fucking gorgeous sitting there with her head back and mouth opened, waiting for our cum.” 
I stroke her face, humming in approval when she leans into my touch. The sight of her on her knees before the two of us, with her hands tied behind her back and wearing nothing but her black bra is a sight to behold; one that I'd been dying to see since the day I first met her. 
“Who’s going first?” Folio asks.
I turn to him, feeling like I’m staring into a mirror. The black ski mask covers most of his face. Only his eyes and mouth are visible, with a little bit of skin showing around each. The band's white logo, the symbols of death, peace, and mind, stand out among all of the black like a scarlet letter, baring the images of sexual perversion and degradation in her mind, no doubt. 
“Why don't you go first? Show me how good her mouth can fuck.” Folio nods, undoing the button of his black jeans. 
I shift my gaze back to her, staring directly into her dark orbs that are wantonly awakened. The small smile, trapped in the corners of her mouth, makes the flutter in the pit of my stomach reach my cock. It twitches, throbbing with such an ache for release that I’m quickly losing my grip on my sanity. Her eyes drop, following my hand as I palm my erection hidden beneath my black stage pants. The way she stares, narrowing those beautiful eyes and clenching her jaw, makes the fire slowly burning through my veins ignite into a hot blaze. She wants this, more than I ever thought she would, leading me to think maybe she doesn’t hate me as much as I thought she did. 
I want my turn with her. I want to feel her fuck me with her mouth until she’s gagging and spitting as I grip her by the hair to keep her in place. I want her to take me over the edge and make me lose control. But I need to watch first. I need to watch the way she fucks her lover, who happens to be like a brother to me, and make him cum.
It’ll be my turn after that, one of the very many I’m free to have with her just for tonight. 
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Saturday Morning: 
God she sounds beautiful. Her cries of pleasure ring throughout the house, bouncing off every wall, ripping through the silence and replacing it with her song of sexual fulfillment that could only be given to her by one man. She’s hungry for him, begging for more of what he’s putting down and from the sounds of it, he seems to be delivering. Folio’s got it all with her and it’s my fault. I let it slip out of my hands because my ego was louder than my love and somewhere in between, the lines blurred together. It got too hard for me to tell the difference between love and lust and eventually everything just blew apart. I was blinded, too dumb to realize how she really felt about me. Now it was too late.
Motherfucker.
The lewd sounds coming from the bedroom are unsettling and I can’t help but envision the two of them tangled up in one another, doing whatever it takes to get the other off. They both sound so desperate and needy, pathetically at the mercy of the other. I chew on my lips out of a nervous habit, fighting the temptation of wanting to watch them, to see their bodies come together in ways I've only ever thought about. I want to watch Folio wear the mask as he takes her, invades her and fills her full of him. I want to watch how she responds to him, the expression on her face changing with every new thing he does to her. I want to watch her cum. 
No. Shit. I want to feel her cum.
I begin to palm my swollen cock beneath the table, massaging slowly at first, but as her sounds grow louder, I unzip and take myself fully into my hand, going harder and faster in hopes of soothing the intense pressure building up. My dick is throbbing, the consistent pulsing pushing hard against my hand until finally, her sudden shrill of ecstasy rings through the deadly silence. 
I release my cock right before my climax hits, slamming a clenched fist down on the table while suppressing a deep growl of dissatisfaction for not meeting my own expectations. Out of breath, heart racing, and legs trembling, I stay seated, waiting for everything to come back into focus. After a few minutes, I stand up and adjust myself, taking a deep breath and letting it out quickly. 
I glance down at the table. The hollow eyes of the black ski mask meet mine. Its empty stare feels like it's challenging me, daring me to go through with the idea I've had in my head for days. The mask; it knows me, because it is me. Picking it up, I slip it on and glance into the nearby mirror. It sits well on me. Just like it always does.
Turning my head left and right, I stare at the man before me, shifting my sight from the white embroidered logos of death, peace, and mind, to my eyes, dark and narrowing. What will she think when she sees me? What will she say, if anything. I think too much when it comes to her. Fuck. She really is the death of my peace of mind.
Closing my eyes, I envision the blackness of the yarn running across the pale, delicate flesh between her legs as I devour her, eating her between her luscious folds until she’s crying my name and clawing my skin. I envision my covered nose dragging along the trail of her clit, breathing in the scent of her and stopping just above her entrance to circle the delicate pink flesh that's dripping wet. 
My whole body shudders. I’ve never wanted anything more than the way I want her. She's the only pleasure I want, the ecstasy I would kill for a taste of. I run my hands over the black yarn, and peer through the cracks of my fingers at the face before me. 
I’ve come to loathe the sight of it. It’s a face of trouble and regret and nothing good could come from it. The reasoning behind Folio’s request two nights ago has been eating away at me. He said he's worried about her, concerned that too much of the past is hurting her more than it should be. It's my fault. All of it.
I played games with her heart and eventually she got tired of my shit. When I saw she was moving on, finding the love and attention she wanted and needed in Folio, I got pissed off, jealous that she wasn’t all about me anymore, or at least I thought she wasn’t.  
So, I got drunk at a party one night and fucked some random girl in a bathroom. I thought I’d won until she walked in on the two of us right as I pulled out and came all over the back of the girl whose face I don’t even remember. I'll never forget the look on her face. It shattered my heart, burning its way into my memory forever. It scared my heart. I ran after her but then watched her run right into the arms of my best friend. 
Pain. Agonizing hurt. Bitterness. All of it flooded my head, taking over every thought until I was finally honest with myself. I was in love with her, but I was too toxic for her. She didn’t deserve me. She deserved Folio. He would protect her heart; make her feel safe. He would dry her tears and hold her close, doing his best to mend the heart that I had shattered. Because of how much I hated myself, I shut them both out. At times, I think I was meaner to her than I was before I fucked everything up, yet too selfish to care about the heart I broke. I couldn’t get past my own hurt while I ignored hers
Thank god everything eventually smoothed over. The past got buried leading me to believe she got over it and moved on with Folio. But maybe I was wrong to believe that. Was she still living in the past, with hurt and pain that she never actually got over, only threw a band aid over just like I did?
Which brings me back to the reason I’m here
He’s given me permission to have a masked affair with her, but only if she’s willing. The idea is so fucked up; Folio allowing me to violate and penetrate what he’d fuck another guy up over if he touched her the way that I want to touch her. I can’t wrap my thoughts around any of it. 
“Folio! Hey, I’m running over to the cafe for some breakfast. Do you want me to bring you two anything?” “Yeah, that would be great, thanks. We’re just…, we’ll be out in a few minutes.”  “No rush. You two sound busy. I’ll be back in a few.”
I stand at the door for a moment, fighting the urge to open it, leaning my forehead against it and taking a deep breath before walking away. I toss the ski mask on the table as I pass by, walking right out the front door, pulling it closed behind me.
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“I'm taking it slowly, you'd never know/How quick it gets lonely here at the top/Her skin feels unholy, but I'm still drawn/The morals I'm holding, you know they're gone”
-Bad Decisions-
Sunday: Midnight
She’s confused when I grab both of her wrists and gently pull them behind her back. “What are you doing?” I can sense the alarm in her voice and it makes me grin with satisfaction. 
After tying the knot around her wrists, not too tight but enough to know she can’t get out of the restraint, I lean over her shoulder and run my covered nose up the side of her neck, clenching my jaw as she leans her head back just enough for me to kiss the hollow of her throat. “I want you at my mercy while I do all the sick, perverted things I’ve been dreaming about for months, Princess.” 
Her shallow whimper weakens me. I’m hard as a rock and a part of me hates it, hates her, for making me want her this much, and I hate myself for not having more self control when it comes to her. My jaw ticks with the rhythm of my pulse as I grab her by the hair, yanking her head back further and looking deep into her eyes. They skim over the mask covering my face and I catch the glimmer of desire in them. “God, Noah,” she breaths. The sound of my name slipping from her pink, luscious lips arouses me, making me more desperate than before. 
“You look…” but she bites her lip instead of finishing her thought. “Don't bite your lip.” My stare is fixated on her. “Why?” “Unless you want to find yourself slammed against the wall with my hands pressed between your legs and around your throat. Do you want that?” She shakes her head as best she can. “Good. Then get on the bed and on your fucking knees for me, Princess.” 
A devious smile spreads across her mouth as she willingly obeys, but not before getting swept up in a heated kiss from Folio. His skin against hers is something they’re used to seeing, but I’m not. And even though it shouldn’t, it turns me on. He whispers something in her ear and she nods, but I catch the swift move of his finger swiping up her wet pussy, noticing how her body responds to it; automatically aroused. 
She looks back at me and stands on the tips of her toes. I know what she wants, so I indulge her by taking her lips by brutal force, groaning as my tongue plunges its way into her mouth and licking deep. Her response has the pre-cum slipping from the slit on my cock soaking a small spot of my briefs. 
“On the bed, on your knees, and ass up, now, Princess,” I growl against her lips.
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               Saturday Afternoon
She’s sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter with her arms folded tightly across her chest, staring down at the floor below her. A few moments ago, when she came out into the kitchen and saw me standing here, I swear if looks could kill, I’d be dead.
She fucking hates me.
Peering up, she scowls at me, eyebrows coming together to form the cutest angry face I've ever seen her make. I snicker, but she just rolls her eyes and looks away. 
Shit. 
But then she looks back, locking me in an intoxicating stare that’s harsh and unmerciful, and I can’t get a breath down as I drown in it. But I welcome it and all the pain that comes with it. “Hey man, are you sure she’s up for this? Have you even told her yet?” I tap Folio on the shoulder to get his attention. He shakes his head. and my brain immediately starts to freak out. “Fuck, Folio! No wonder she’s pissed. You didn’t tell her anything?” “No.” His answer is taut and quick. 
“Great. She already hates that I’m breathing. This idea is likely to cause her to drive a knife through my chest! I thought we already talked about this the other night!” “Will you stop being so damn dramatic, Noah! Chill, dude!” he says, raising his voice. Folio may be smaller than me, but he’s feisty as hell. And when he raises his voice in a certain tone, one knows he’s serious. It’s obvious to me he’s pretty fucking serious right now. 
“Look, you think whatever you want to, okay, Noah? But I know my girl, like I know my kit and my Harley, alright? Yeah, she’s still kinda angry about the past, but not enough that she wants you dead or anything close to that. But you two have shit you need to work out. It’s been too fucking long that the hostility and weirdness between the two of you has been going on."
I scowl, completely caught off guard .
"You’re not the only ones it’s affecting, Noah. It’s killing me, and both of you keep beating around the fucking bush, meeting on the one side, only to turn around, avoid each other, then meet on the other side, again. It’s ridiculous and it has to stop. All the bickering, the awkwardness when we’re all together and the fact that neither of you can be left in the same room together without fighting, is starting to piss all of us off. Not to mention the fights she and I are starting to have, but that’s besides the point.” 
I frown in confusion. “Fights? You two are fighting? Folio,” “Don’t, Noah. Our relationship is not your business.” Folio rubs his jawline. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I shake my head over thinking there is no way any of this is going to work. But Nick’s right about one thing. She and I do have shit to get over. But it doesn’t matter. Nothing I say or do will ever make things right between us. 
“There is no way she’s going for this, Nick. There’s no chance in hell she’ll even let me near her let alone… allow me to touch her.” Those last words hit my heart hard. "All I’ve wanted for months is to just hold her and tell her I’m sorry, but we can’t even be in the same room together for too long. I'm actually surprised we've lasted this long." “Well, something's keeping her here. She hasn't gotten mad at you yet." “That’s because you’re here,” I scoff.
Folio growls in frustration “Noah, listen to me,” he orders, clearly annoyed. “Ever since the night of that party, I’ve had to watch her beat herself up over and over again, trying to put the broken pieces of her heart back together. I’ve done what I can to help her, but there’s a piece that’s missing. I see the way it’s affecting her and she doesn’t even realize it. 
“Okay, so what does any of this have to do with me and her?” Folio rolled his eyes. “God, you're so freaking dumb sometimes, dude. You're the piece, Noah! Shit! You've always been the piece.” “What…what do you mean “I’m the piece”,” I stammer.
Folio sighs, removes his hat to run his hands through his hair, then puts it back on, inhaling a deep breath and exhaling it quickly. “There are nights when she's asleep that I hear her say your name. It's never dramatic, nothing sexual. Just simple. Sweet. For some damn reason, you still mean so much to her, Noah. I can’t, for the life of me, understand why. I mean, it was bad enough when you took your shit out on me, hating me and whatever, but the way you treated her, when she wasn’t even the one who did anything wrong, dude… you fucked her up pretty good. The games you played with her mind, Noah… you don’t even know man.” 
Folio shakes his head, turning away from me. “So that’s what this is all about? Closure? Tying up loose ends?” I grumble. “More like you taking responsibility and owning up to what you did. Admit to her the truth so she can stop feeling like shit about all of it.” “I only did what I did because she dropped me like a bad fucking habit, Nick, and moved on to you! Fuck!” 
I run both hands through my hair, pulling at the roots with frustration from all this insanity. “You were even between her legs that night, man! I heard the two of you. So, don't preach to me about how bad I hurt her! She didn't fucking care about me.” “Really, Noah! That’s how you justify it? When are you going to understand that she only gave up waiting for you? She didn’t give up on you. She only came to me, falling into my arms that night, because she caught you fucking another girl after she spent countless days, weeks, hell even months, trying to show you that she wanted you. Don't you dare say she didn't care about you! She cared way too much for you! You shattered her heart for no good fucking reason other than your ego was wounded. She tried showing you, Noah. She tried telling you that she wanted you, but you ignored her. You played sick mind games with her. You know you made this mess, and now I’m telling you, you’re going to fix it. I’m give you the fucking chance to fix it!” 
I bite my tongue, holding back all the things I want to say but know I shouldn’t. Folio is right about everything, but for some reason I can’t let go of wanting her to accept the blame for what she did to me when she moved on so quickly with my best friend. 
“What chance are you giving him, Nick?” 
Her voice startles both of us. Folio looks at me eyes wide and full of regret. This wasn’t how he wanted her to find out. She hops down off the counter and comes over to us, walking right past me like I’m a ghost. Her persistence in ignoring me pricks my heart. Folio throws his hands on his head, messing with his hat nervously. I need to be the one to handle this. I’ve caused my brother enough grief.
“A chance to fix the past. A masked affair, Princess,” blurting out just as Folio opens his mouth to speak. Slowly, she turns and looks at me. “I’m sorry, what?” There’s no mistaking the surprise in her voice. 
“A masked affair. You do know what an affair is, right?” “Yeah, Noah, I know what it is,” she states, clearly irritated. Ohhh, she’s getting pissy with me. It won’t be long now before the two of us are arguing. “Good,” I grin, taking a step closer towards her only for her to take a step back, but she doesn’t turn and leave like she normally does when I make her mad. My eyes quickly snap up to hers, locking them in a heated stare; one that's instigating my inner depravity. 
I feel that familiar feeling I get every time she and I start to fight, but this time, there’s something more to it; a certain tension that was never there before, drawing the two of us together. And the fact that she’s not running from me this time, is alarming. “Then, maybe you can show me if that mouth is good for something else other than sarcasm.” There’s a fire that ignites in her eyes and it makes my heart slam into my chest like a fist to a punching bag. Every beat of it bridges the gap between us.
“Excuse me!” “Holy shit!” Folio utters. “Noah, what the fuck?”  “What?” “A bit much, don’t you think?” I laugh. “Not enough.” She stares at me and Folio, her narrow eyes darting back and forth between us. “Okay, one of you better tell me what the hell is going on, right now.“ “I will if you come here.” 
“No! Not a chance, Noah,” she snaps. I clench my teeth, tossing my head from side to side to relieve the tension. Her unwillingness to submit to me only turns me on even more. I guess it’s time to get dirty. “Alright, let's try this again, Princess. And if you get pissy with me again, I’ll make you sorry for that mouth. Now, come here,” I demand, raising an eyebrow. Folio is quiet, unsure if he should interject or not.
At first she just stands there, seemingly unsure about where this is all coming from and where it could possibly be going, making me think she’s not going to do as I told her, but then she surprises me by taking a few awkward steps towards me. “That’s better. Now, look at me.” I expect to find a lot of angst when she does, but instead I find tears and it rips my heart apart. I did this to her. I caused her pain. And as I wipe the tears away that slide down her cheeks, surprised she doesn't pull away, I can no longer control my need to kiss her. I have to fucking kiss her.
With one hand, I gather the back of her hair and gently yank her head back, hearing a soft whimper fall under her breath and use my other hand to wrap around her throat. Licking my dry lips, I glance over her sweet face and in an instant our lips crash together in such a heated kiss that it could set the place on fire. My lips glide over hers as I kiss the corners of her mouth, slowly dragging my tongue to the middle of her lips and biting down. The second she gasps, I slide my tongue through her parted lips and stroke hers, massaging it the same way I know I’m going to massage her pussy later. 
Her hands gather the sides of my shirt, unexpectedly pulling me closer and causing me to stagger like a drunk man. But then she pulls away and the sudden loss of her lips is torture. “I hate you,” she sneers, pulling herself out of my grip and shoving me away from her. Her chest is rapidly rising and falling, proof I've kissed her well, and her cheeks are covered with a pretty shade of a deep pink flush. Her aggression towards me is intoxicatingly hot and all I want to do now is grab her by the hair again, bend her over and fuck her senselessly until her moans turn into screams for me. 
“You hate me, huh,” I echo her claim. “Yes,” she spits. “I hate you.” I fight the urge to kiss her again. “Why?” “You know why, Noah. Don’t make me say it.” “Maybe I do know,” stepping closer, “but maybe I want to hear you say it. Tell me why you hate me.” I grab her wrists and she gasps. Our bodies are almost touching again and I can feel her warmth radiating onto me. This is the closest I’ve been to her in months.  
I forgot how beautiful she is. Her freckles, her brown eyes, her laughter lines, all of it makes me ache with misery over what I did to her and what it cost me. “I don’t want to. You already know,” she accuses. But I won’t accept her answer. “Please, tell me. I need you to tell me, Princess,” My plea comes out as a whisper only she can hear and I know I’ve let my guard down too far when the hard glare in her eyes softens and so does her resistance against me. 
My heart is pounding, feeling like it might explode out of my chest, because of how vulnerable I’ve just made myself. “Because you were cruel to me Noah. You broke my heart and you didn't even care.” And there it is. There’s the fucking slap to the face, the punch to the gut, the salt to the wound that I've been waiting for; the one I deserve. She closes her eyes and more tears spill out, running down her face and smearing the faint traces of her makeup. 
The amount of rage that swells inside me is enough to flatten an entire city. It’s not just rage for the shit I did, but she did as well. The way she crawled into Folio’s bed and allowed him between her legs when she didn’t get what she wanted from me, or pushed me away the many times I tried to apologize to her. No, she wasn’t the only victim here. We both were. But if there’s one thing I’m absolutely sure of now it’s that she doesn’t hate me. She only thinks she does. And I’ll convince her she doesn't once I’m between her legs, buried deep inside her and showing her how much I ache for her just like I know she aches for me. 
“I cared, baby. I cared more than you'll ever know.” She looks at me confused. “Then why didn't you,” “Why didn't I tell you? I tried. But you were so focused on your hurt and getting fucked by my best friend that you didn’t notice.” A look of shock sweeps across her face. “I heard the two of you that night and every night after. And I saw you, too, one night by the pool. You were wearing that little red one piece that hugs your body so well. I watched Folio rip it off you and fuck you against the concrete before yanking you into the water where he made you cum.” Her face is flushed , bringing out the pretty shade of red on her cheeks.
“And then there was the night he fucked you on the kitchen counter before bending you over the table and plowing into, making you scream. God, he was a fucking beast to you that night. I got so mad that he was that rough with you.” I caressed her face, wiping away her tears. “I cared, baby. You just didn't give me the chance to tell you." She was so quiet, fighting hard to get control of her emotions.
“Noah, I’m,” I capture her lips in mine, silencing her apology before she even gets those stupid, goddamn words out, the same ones I've been needing to hear after all this time. But now that I'm about to, I don't need her to say she's sorry. I just want her to not hurt anymore. “Don't,” I shake my head. “You don't need to,” I pause, clenching my teeth and taking a deep breath through my nose. “You don't hate me, Princess.” My cock is burning erratically, throbbing recklessly to the point that it’s maddening. 
I yank her head back by the hair again as my hand reclaims its place around her neck, rubbing my thumb along her jawline and disarming her from anything she’s about to say next. Her breath hitches in the back of her throat and she tries to swallow, making the small bump of her Adam's apple enticing enough to eat; and that’s what I do.
Without hesitating, I lean down and take a bite, biting down lightly but with enough force so she knows I’m the one in control. She cries out softly, wrenching down on my shoulders, and digging her nails into my skin. I hiss beneath the bite, sucking the spit up before turning the bite into a pretty reddish bruise. Grazing the skin of her throat with my teeth, I turn the biting and sucking into a kiss.
The loud gasp she makes as I breathe in her scent, penetrates my veins and crawls its way to my memory and I hum in approval as I taste her salty skin on my tongue feeling the subtle yet powerful whimpered moan that escapes her vibrate against my lips. My cock twitches just enough for her to feel it against her belly. 
“Noah,” she whispers my name as I suck the skin of her neck some more, leaving faint little marks behind, claiming her as mine now; even if it’s only for tonight. Her hands snake around my neck, depending on my strength alone to hold her up. “You know what I hate?” I growl, lifting my head to face her, kissing her lips before continuing. “I fucking hate the way Folio touches you,” I say, the distaste of the idea clear in my tone. Folio takes a few steps towards us. The man’s on the edge of his seat and I couldn’t be happier. I run my nose up and down her skin, turning her head and breathing her in on every side.
“I can't stand how he looks at you, how he makes you his with every scream, every moan that you make when he fucks up into you,” sneering through clenched teeth, tightening the grip I have on her. She swallows hard, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes again when I lift my head to look at her. “I heard you this morning, too, Princess. I was sitting at the table, wearing the black mask, envisioning I was the one fucking you while getting my self off. I almost did. And that fucking fantastic moment you came for Folio, all over his face,” I smile, kissing her again, “god, I can’t explain to you the way it made me feel. I envy Folio. I envy everything he has with you, because it should be mine.”
Her eyes dart back and forth as she’s holding her breath. I'm under her skin now, making my way quickly into her veins. It’s just a matter of moments before she gives in to me. “You sounded so fucking beautiful. The way he fucked you must have been satisfying. Was it?” I caress the side of her face with the back of my fingers, leaning down and kissing her cheek. 
“I bet I can make you cum harder, though. What do you think, huh?” She whimpers, making the fire in my abdomen ignite and I feel the wetness of my underwear against my erection. Fuck. Taking a shaky breath, I run my hand over her neck, releasing my grip for a moment to lean down and take her lips with mine, this time forcing my tongue into her mouth. At first she fights with me, but then I feel hers run over mine, allowing me to meet hers and together, our tongues dance. My knees grow weak. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this game up.
“God, you have no idea how much I fucking want you! The thoughts that I have about how I want to fuck you and punish you for letting another man put his hands on you. How much I want to strip you naked and pound into that sweetly soaked pussy of yours that you allow Folio to fuck whenever he wants,” I growl against her mouth as she releases a needy moan. “Noah,” she whines. I slip my hand under her shirt just to graze the skin beneath the waistband of her shorts. I can tell her nerves are on fire from the way goosebumps prickle her skin. “I want it, Princess. I want all of you, but can’t have it,”
She closes her eyes briefly as more tears slip out from the corners of her eyes. “Noah,” she softly whines again, letting her hands fall to my shoulders. “Not until you say I can.” She gasps, blinking a few times. Without saying another word, I turn her head and run my nose, lips and tongue up the side of her neck, taking the bottom lobe of her ear between my teeth and suck on it before pulling away. The whimper she gives me makes my cock ache deeply. “Fuck, Princess, I wanna ruin you, damage you inside and out until all you know is the shape of my cock,” I mumble, nipping and kissing her neck some more. She’s wrecked from my words alone. 
I smile at knowing I’ve won. “I'm done waiting,” I tell her harshly, laying my forehead against hers. “Waiting for what?” she questions, her voice quivering. “To get what I want, Princess.” She swallows hard. “And what do you want, Noah?” she softly asks.
“I want you. I want your sex, I want your taste in my mouth. I want your cum on my cock. I want you to let me fuck you, to sink my dick so far into you, hitting that spot that’ll have you screaming until your voice is hoarse and I break you and make you feel empty when I'm done. I want to ruin you and make you take what I give you until you’re begging for more, never satisfied until you can feel me in every single cell of your body for days. I want you, Princess. Every single part of you.”
I release her but she makes no attempt to separate us. Her hands have left my shoulders, standing fully on her feet now, but I can still feel her grip on them. Her chest is quickly rising and falling. She’s fighting all the thoughts running through her mind, including the ones I’ve planted. She’s going to tell me no. I can feel it. I can see it in the look on her face. I brace myself for the let down.
“Fine,” she says, in a voice sure and strong. I grin, taking a deep breath and letting it out quickly. I’ve won. “See, you don’t hate me. You do like me.” Her jaw clenches.” “And you know you want me.” She looks away. “Dammit, Princess , why can you just admit the truth? Why do you keep lying to yourself?” When she doesn’t answer, Folio steps in between us, looking only at her. “Tell him, Sweetheart. Tell Noah the truth. I'll be okay, I promise. I know you love me.” “I'm in love with you, Nick, you’re my world,” she cries as more tears trickle down her cheeks. Folio smiles softly at her.
“I know that too, baby. It's okay. Just tell him the truth,” he encourages her. Her eyes meet mine. I can’t read them. There’s too many mixed emotions. “You want me to say it? Fine, I'll say it. I fucking hate your guts Noah Sebastian. I hate everything about you; the way you look, the way you smile, the way you laugh,” she pauses and steps closer to me. “I hate the way you make me feel; so helpless, so weak. And, hate… fuck! I hate the way I fucking love you, Noah. I hate that I want you! Are you happy? I fucking want you.”
My heart explodes inside me, leaving me feeling like I’ve won everything, but lost it all at the same time. She loves me. She wants me. But I can’t keep her… I can’t keep her. So if I can’t keep her, then I need to make sure I leave enough scars for her to remember what happens here tonight. I will ruin her. I’ll damage her so she won’t forget about us, forget about me and that for one night, she was mine.
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“No way to right these wrongs/Either way, I'm feeling, it might just cost /something in the millions/I know that I can't resist/You know I can't just stop”
-Somebody Else-
              Saturday Evening:
“Are you sure you're okay with this, Sweetheart,” Folio asks her, removing her shirt and tossing it on the floor. His pupils instantly darken at seeing her small breasts covered by the black cotton bra. I should have known she was nothing fancy. Simple and basic; one hundred percent her and I couldn’t love it more. He hooks his fingers around the waistband of her shorts and pulls them down, revealing her matching panties, and tosses them over with the shirt. Both of them are silent as he stands there admiring her.
I grin at seeing her cheeks redden. “Nick, are you okay,” she asks sweetly. He nods and caresses her cheek. “Then why are you staring at me like that?” “Because, I love you and I love seeing you naked.” She giggles. “Well, technically, I’m not naked yet.” “Yeah, well give me two seconds and you will be!” Folio tackles her, grabbing her sides and making her squeal in delight. He puts her down, looking over at me. “You’re positive you want to do this?” he asks her, hesitatingly. “This was your idea, remember?” She slides her hands up his chest, running her fingers over his chin. "God, why are you so freaking cute?" Folio smiles, chuckling lightly.
He kisses her on the lips, holding her around the waist, closely. She doesn't let him go, but instead pulls him closer to her with their lips still locked tightly together, leading them over to the couch where she lowers herself down and spreading her legs wide open, running her hand over her covered pussy. She looks at me as she does it and I I groan, low and deep in my chest, biting the inside of my cheek. My cock is already so fucking hard, aching with the need to release. I grab it, rubbing it slightly to help ease the feeling, but it doesn’t help. 
“Fuck, baby,” Folio mutters, lowering himself down closer to her, bracing himself with one hand against the back of the couch while the other is trailing up the side of her neck and over her lips. “I want you too, Nick,” she says loud enough for me to hear. “I can’t let Noah have what he wants without you getting it too. I need to please you both.”
“Holy shit,” Folio laughs, grinning wildly as he rubs his crotch against her knee. There's no way she's implying what I think she's implying, but I ask anyway. “What are you saying, Princess? You want a threesome?” Folio looks from her to me and then back to her, waiting for her to answer, completely unsure if her heard me right. “Well, I don’t want you two to do anything, I just want you both to have me. I want to please both of you.” Folio looks over at me again, shaking his head slowly. His eyes are wide, proof of how surprised he is by her request. "Well?" “I’m game if you are,” he agrees. I look at her and watch the way her fingers wander purposely over her pussy, causing my heart to pound against my chest. It’s enough for me. “Fuck it. Fine, Princess. You can have us both.” 
She smiles, licks her bottom lip, and turns back to Folio, reaching up to undo his belt. But before she follows through, she stops. “The mask." Her eyes light up. "What about it," he says quietly, dragging his finger down between her breasts. "You told me you brought it with you. If this is a masked affair then you need to play your part, too. Put the mask on for me, Nicky, please.” A wide grin spreads over his face. “You want me to wear the mask? You wanna fuck like we did at home the last time I wore it?” She nods her head, shyly, slipping the tip of her finger in between her teeth. Seeing it makes my heart race. The urgency of how much I'm needing her is disgusting, but I welcome it.
 Folio leaves her, going over to his bag to retrieve the mask, and stares at me as he walks by. God, I hope this doesn’t turn into a fucking competition. When he returns to her, slipping the mask on as he stands before her, her hands return to his belt and continues their task of unbuckling it. “Is this better?” She grins approvingly and nods. She looks over at me, take a long breath as he pushes her black panties to the side and immediately slips his fingers inside her. The moan that escapes her goes straight to my cock, making the muscles in my abdomen tighten.
Holy fuck.
Inching closer to them, slipping my mask on and hiding behind the safety of the my alter ego, I focus on Folio as he works his finger deeper inside her walls, pulling small cries and whimpers from her. Her eyes are closed, focusing hard on the connection between her orgasm and Folio's fingers. Each one of her needy moans echo through the room, bouncing off the walls and into the deep caverns of my brain where I commit them to memory. Seeing the way Folio intently feels her, fucking her slowly but aggressively is almost too much. It's turning me on too much and I feel like I might cum just from watching them. I palm my swollen cock, groaning as I shift it beneath the confines of my pants, I focus my thoughts on the two of them instead of my need to cum, but it's impossible. The two go hand in hand at this point.
“Goddamn, sweetheart, Folio hums, licking his lips. "You're so fucking wet. Look how coated my fingers are,” he groans, pulling them out to show her how her arousal glistens on his fingers. "Nick," she moans, breathlessly as he takes them in his mouth and licks the taste of her. "Open," he commands her, and she listens, opening her mouth just enough for him to insert his two fingers inside her mouth. Her lips seal around them and she proceeds to suck them. She runs the side of her tongue against them, making Folio, curse an growl loudly.
"Holy fuck, what are you trying to accomplish, baby?" he laughs nervously. She pulls him down to her lips and kisses him, and they put their tongues on full display, lapping and sucking, beneath a heated kiss. His fingers find her pussy again and he slips inside her, coating his fingers in her juices again, no doubt. I'm a fucking mess, consumed by a desperate lust to claim her body. I give up fighting and fully give into the need for the filthy dabauchery overtaking every thought that's crossing my mind.
“Are you this wet just for me or for him too?” Folio asks her, grinding his cock on her thigh as he braces himself against the couch while thrusting up inside mer. “Both,” she admits quickly and honestly. Folio’s head lowers, and he releases a deep grunt, overtaking her lips again. “If I wasn’t so turned on by it, I’d be fucking pissed,” he admits. Pulling his fingers out, he rips her panties off, purposely throwing them at my feet. I look up into the face of my mirror image, disgusted by the smug grin on his face.
"Fuck you, Folio," I mumble. His mouth twitches an he gives me a lop-sided grin. But as soon as he turns away, I snatch the panties and shove them into my pocket.
Keeping his eyes focused on her, she gasps loudly the moment Folio thrusts his fingers back inside her more violently than before. He doesn’t give her time to react as he slams his lips into her and they take a moment to devour each other again. I groan, toss my head back, and palm myself again, trying to alleviate the growing pressure that’s rapidly building.
“Oh god, baby, that feels so good,” she moans, arching her back and bucking her hips while reaching for Folio. He comes back into her embrace, kissing her and praising her while giving her what she wants with just his fingers. “I know you like this, baby, but I’m dying to taste you,” he mumbles against her lips. “I wanna eat you and make you cum on my tongue, just like I did this morning,” he grins, pulling his fingers out of her one more time.
My heart is racing over what I’m about to see. Folio glances over at me, checking to see if I'm still watching, and once he's satisfied, he turns back to her “Noah’s watching, baby. You got to show him how good I can make you cum, show him who owns this sweet pussy of yours." She sighs, as he places gentle kisses on her belly. "Tease him sweetheart. Make him want you." Folio inches his way down her body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. She places her hands on either side of head, guiding him along her body, tangling her fingers in his hair once he finds her clit.
She allows her legs to fall wide open, revealing that sweet, decadent spot of hers that is the center of all her pleasure. My jaw drops at the sight of it. It's pink, wet and so fucking beautiful. I lick my lips, parting them in desperation to feel it beneath my tongue.
The feeling is too much. I need to get off from watching this. It's the only thing that will satisfy me. Like an addict craving his addiction, I quickly undo the strings to my pants, freeing my hard swollen shaft, I pump it a few times, sighing loudly as a copious amount of precum coats my fingers, creating the perfect lubricant for what I'm about to do. I run my hand over the tip, letting my head fall back, the moment I see Folio dive in fully masked, sliding his tongue up her slit, sucking her clit, slowly.
Her breath catches in the back of her throat, arching her back the moment Folio take her swollen bud between his teeth and flicks it with the tip of his tongue. She cries out, moaning his name like a prayer grinding her cunt against his face in a desperate attempt to feel more.
This is so fucking wrong, watching them like own personal porno, I can't pry my eyes away. I don't want to, honestly. The feeling rushing through my veins is unlike anything other feeling I've ever felt. "Oh, fuck," I moan, taking my balls in my hand and rubbing them around in my hand. My legs are trembling as they try to hold my weight up, biting back moans that are desperately trying to escape.
My heart’s pounding in my chest. I can’t suppress the arousal building in me or how good it feels sliding my hands in and out over my erection. I want to cum so badly, but not yet. “Oh fuck, Noah!” I raise my head only to find her staring at me. She's grinning in surprise, while pushing Folio's face harder into core. “You have no idea how fucking hot you look right now.” My heart pounds against my chest from both arousal and excitement. “Yeah? Is this doing something for you, watching me get myself off while your boyfriend eats you out?" "Mmmhmm, yeah is does," she moans, licking her lips and furrowing her brows. "Does it make you want to cum hard, baby? Do you want to cum for just Folio or for me too?"
Her pants are becoming more erratic, her chest heaving in and out faster. "I want to cum for both of you," she whines. "I want, I, oh fuck baby," she moans, running her hands over the back Folio's head , fingers through his hair, gripping and pulling it. “Good fucking god," I breath, releasing an unrestrained moan. Folio stops and looks over at me. His mouth is soaked and so is the part of the mask where his nose is. 
“Like what you see, brother?” he asks, voice deep and raspy. “She tastes fucking amazing,” he informs me, looking up at her. He kisses the insides of her thighs before she pushes him back into his place between her legs, where he dives right back in, devouring her. "Nick, baby, I'm so close." "I know you are. I can feel how tight you are," he says, laying his hand on her abdomen. "You're clenching around my tongue. I need you to cum for me, Sweetheart."
Folio inserts his fingers inside her again, thrusting in and out while licking and swallowing up her juices. "Nick, I'm about to cum, baby. Shit," she moans, breathing erratically. Her thighs tighten around Folio's the moment her orgasm hits her, making her swear, while crying out Folio's name. "Don't stop, baby, she pants, holding him in place as she cums in his mouth like he wanted her too. I clench my teeth and groan, right before releasing my cum and spilling all over my hand and the floor. 
“Goddammit,” I hiss, dropping to my knees, completely out of breath. "Fuck me, motherfucker!"
I’ve never made myself cum that hard before. When I look over at them, Folio is wiping his face and she’s watching me with an alluring look that I never thought I’d see in her eyes.
“That was so fucking hot, Sebastian,” she confesses with a grin. I’m still trying to catch my breath, but manage a light chuck as Folio tosses the towel at me.
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“Look at her. She's so fucking gorgeous sitting there with her head back and mouth opened, waiting for our cum.” 
I stroke her face, humming in approval when she leans into my touch. The sight of her on her knees before the two of us, with her hands tied behind her back and wearing nothing but her black bra is a sight to behold; one that I'd been dying to see since the day I first met her. “Who’s going first?” Folio asks. “Why don't you go first? Show me how good her mouth can fuck.” Folio nods, undoing the button of his black jeans and stepping out of them. 
I caress her face as she looks up at me. I stare at her, wondering what the hell I was thinking when I made the choices that I did. What made me think I could find anything better than her. Folio steps up beside me wearing nothing but the black ski mask with eyes focused solely on his girl who’s about to give him what we're craving. Her face is flushed with a shade of light pink covering her cheeks and the way she licks her lips when Folio moves closer to her has my head running in circles.
Without hesitating, she takes him in her mouth, a little bit a first and then sliding down the whole length of his shaft, completely absorbing him. Folio throws his head back in complete ecstasy as she begins to suck his cock, glancing over at me with a grin. “She’s that good?” I asked, unable to take my eyes off her and the way her tongue slides up and down the back of his shaft.  “Yeah, she’s that fucking good,” Folio growls. His hand lowers to her head as he brushes the loose hair out of her face. “Fuck me, baby, god dang,” he sighs. Slowly, he starts degradingly and savagely fucking her mouth, holding the base of it so she can take all of him until she's deep throating him. She gags when it hits the back of her throat, causing excess saliva to seep out and trickle down her chin.
Reaching down, I can't help but squeeze my cock again as I imagine her on her knees before me, and those red lips wrapped around my dick. Folio grabs her by the hair and holds her in place, picking up the pace of fucking her mouth, aiming to get the satisfaction he wants from her. The room is filled with her loud muffled moans and Folio’s harsh grunts and words of praise that have her in tears. “That’s it baby girl, take it all. Fuck my cock, just like that,” he growls, watching her intently. “Use your teeth, baby.” He hisses, releasing a feral grunt. “Drag them down my cock. God...damn, yeah that’s it baby, like that, he praises through endless pants. He pounds into her mouth releasing a string of curses. “You like it, I know you do. You love it when I fuck your mouth like this."
It's not much long that his thrusts start to grow sloppy and weak, signaling he’s nearing the edge. “Baby girl, you're making me cum," he moans. His thrusts grow shorter and softer. “Shit, shit, fuck baby, don't stop, don't stop, I'm gonna cum, fuck!” he yells again before pulling out of her mouth and spilling his cum all over her breasts and thighs. 
“Ughh, fuck baby,” Folio pants, bracing himself against her shoulder. She’s spent for the moment. Her head hangs low while her body collapses. “I’ll get a towel.” “Leave it,” I order Folio. "I love the sight of her so fucking wrecked." I slip out of my pants and briefs and shamelessly stand before as she slowly raises her head and looks at me, following her eyes as they rake over my body. The soaking up the the ink covering my skin and I don't miss the way the corners of her mouth slightly turn up and her tongue passes over her lips like she knows she's about to taste something delicious. What I’m about to give her will leave a bitter craving in her mouth that she’ll never be able to get enough of. “Look at me,” I order, pulling her head up by the hair with one hand while the other one pumps my shaft. 
The look in her eyes is mesmerizing. It's soft yet strong and intoxicating making me feel like I could drown in her very existence. "My turn, Princess." "You're turn Sebastian," she echo's swallowing hard. Carefully, I drag my eyes over her face, studying her features and seeing things about her I never have before. "How did are you so beautiful?" My forehead creases. "How did you get so gorgeous?" I can't help but snicker, making her smile. "I've always loved your smile," tracing her lips with my thumb. "I've always loved your eyes." Now I'm the one smiling.
I lean down and kiss her, surprised when I feel her kiss me back. "So you do like what you see, don't you?” She remains quiet, but her expression is very readable.  “Yeah, you do. I know you do,” I grin. “Does the mask make you wet, pretty girl? Does it make the inside of your thighs shake and your pussy clench at the thought of me spreading you open wide and taking you, giving you all of me, right down to the very base of my cock.” 
"Jesus, Noah," she groans, swallowing hard again. I shake my head. "No baby. His face might be on my back, but it's me whose in your presence now. I can be your god if you want though," I tease her. The quiet little whimpers that leave her are enough for me. "Worship me, Princess. And I promise you when I claim your sweet pussy as mine, I'll worship it and make you feel like a queen." A strained cry leaves her.
I message my cock, milking as much pre-cum out of it as I can, letting it seep onto my fingers. “Open up,” I order her, bringing my fingers to her mouth, and she obeys immediately, allowing me to slip my fingers in. I watch in awe as she sucks them, using her tongue to scrap herself off my skin and swallow. "What the fuck," I mutter, shaking my head. "You’re such a fucking tease,” humming so low it comes out in almost a growl. “Alright, Princess,” I say giving my shaft a few quick pumps, as I stand over of her.
“If you can use that sweet mouth of yours to suck my fingers then I’m going to use it to fuck my cock until my cum is hitting you in the back of throat and dripping down your chin," bringing my hand to the back of her head. She looks up at me and leans in, closing her eyes the moment her lips part around my cock and she slowly begins to sink down on it, taking me gently in her mouth. Her tongue glides down the backside of it, and I sigh, throwing my hands to my face.
“Oh fucking god,” I gasp. My eyes flutter closed over the sensation her mouth brings me and I bite my knuckle, choking back so many moans as she works her tongue fearlessly against my cock, giving the veins and grooves plenty of attention. Glancing down, our eyes meet. Her deep, magnet stare pierces the armor on my heart, and straight away I’m feeling things for her that I never did before. My stomach tightens, every muscle in my body tenses. My breathing grows shaky and it suddenly feels like the room is spinning. 
“Yeah, just like that,” I say on an exhale, watching her parted lips slide up and down my cock. I’m engulfed in a wet heat that keeps growing the more she sucks and hollows out her cheeks, urging me to force her head down closer to the base of my shaft. She swirls and circles it with her tongue, flicking the tip and sucking the pre-cum that seeps out. “Holy shit, baby,” I gasp, pulling back from her mouth a bit. But my eyes remain fixed on her, loving the way she closes her eyes and hums as she works my dick, sucking and taking care of me. 
“Ughh, you look so fucking beautiful with my cock in you mouth. You feel so damn good, god!” I praise her through clenched teeth. My hands move around and cup her face then snake to the back of her head again, entangling my fingers in her hair. I'm ready to use her in the most degrading way possible to get what I want.
“Fuck, baby, I need more. Suck me harder, baby, faster. That's it!" My pace is suddenly brutal as I pound into her mouth. The fact that her hands are tied together and can’t touch me makes me have to work twice as hard and be aggressive with her in order to get what I want.
“That’s it, god, fuck yes take it all baby, take it all,” moaning loudly and pressing deeper into her mouth. The tip of my cock hits the back of her throat and she gags, but I don't stop. I keep thrusting in and out of her mouth, keeping her right where I want her until I can hear her choked moans. “You’re such a dirty girl, baby, allowing me and Folio to do this to you. But you like it don’t you? Huh?” She gags again, saliva once again, sliding down her chin and dripping on her thighs. 
“Fuck yeah you do. You like to get fucked rough don’t you? You like it when I degrade you and make you feel dirty, don’t you?” I growl, panting from the burning tension building up inside me. She’s in tears, makeup running down her face and looking absolutely fucked out of her mind. “Shit, I’m not going to last much longer!” I mutter, holding her face close to my cock, pushing her harder against me. With each thrust, I feel myself flex against her tongue. I’m almost there. “Harder baby, suck it harder. Just like that! Yeah, god yes. Make me cum for you, Princess. Show me how much you want it.” 
I can’t breath, can’t concentrate on anything other but her hungry mouth fucking my cock. “Baby, fuck, I can’t,” my voice is husky and strained. I look back down at her and at the sight of her hollowed, tear stained cheeks below. The sight of her is fucking perfect, just what I want. With a loud groan and one more hard thrust into her mouth, I explode a hot wave of cum inside her mouth, hitting the back of her throat, no doubt. My hips jerk violently as she continues to suck, swallowing every drop.
“Shit baby, swallow me!” I cry out, panting heavily, I release my grip on her hair and pull out of her mouth as she slumps over where she’s kneeling. My heart is racing wildly in my chest and I feel a mixture of pain and pleasure pulsing through me. 
“Fuck Noah! What the fuck was that?” Folio scolds me, kneeling down before her. He lifts her head, wiping her mouth with his shirt. “That,” I pant while adjusting the mask, “that was the best fucking head I’ve ever had, Folio! If that’s what she gives you every time….fuck man.” Looking at her, I'm starting to think maybe I went a little too far, that maybe I was wrong about being so forceful. “Princess, are you alright?” I ask as Folio helps her up off the floor.
Her hesitation makes me worry, bringing those feelings from before back into play. I hurt her. Again, but physically this time. I just wanted to feel her on me, but never hurt her. “I’m good,” she admits, raising her face to look at me, but I don't believe her for one second. Her makeup is smeared, traces of it running down her face or smudged around her eyes. But she's still so unbelievably beautiful. “I just want to shower.”
 “We’re not done yet, you know that, right?”  She smiles as Folio undoes her restraints. “Of course we’re not. You promised to do sick, perverted things to me, remember?” She grins like the devil himself, following Folio into the bathroom, leaving me to myself with her last words hanging in the air like heavy rain clouds right before the storm.
What the hell am I supposed to do now?
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“That's it, lose yourself in me baby,” I coax her, slipping a finger inside her,  salivating over how wet and warm she is. “Oh my god, Noah,” she pants and cries out beneath me. Her legs are wide open for me as she grinds her wet cunt hard against my hand while my fingers are trapped inside her, fucking her walls and feeling how they clench then loosen around them. If she feels this fucking good on my fingers I can’t even imagine what she’ll feel like wrapped around my cock. 
Folio is standing beside me watching intently as I penetrate his girl with one of my long tattoo fingers, reaching places inside he never can. “Oh fuck, Noah,” she whimpers, bucking her hips. “Don't stop, please. That, right there,” she moans. “Yeah, is that the spot, Princess?” I add another finger, and thrust in and up, and she cries out, grabbing my wrist. “Yeah that's the spot, isn't it Folio?” I peer up at him and he just watches in eagerness. He's glued to the way she's moaning and working herself against my fingers. “It's different on that end isn't it?” 
Folio clenches his jaw, grinding his teeth. “Really fucking different. Shit,” he agrees, balling his hands into tight fists. Her fingers find her clit and, without shame, she begins to rub it in a weak attempt to get herself off. “No, move your hand,” I growl, pushing it away, frustrated with her for wanting to deny me the gratification. But she grabs my fingers, hooking her hand around my wrist. “If you want me to cum, then use your mouth, Noah. I want to watch you eat me.” 
Her eyes shift over to Folio and I don't miss how enthralled he is. “You're enjoying this way too much," he tells her. "Are you jealous, Nicky?" Folio raises his brows in surprise. "Maybe I am. I've watched another man invade your body enough already." Her expression softens. Arching her head back to capture him in a slow, soft kiss, she smiles weakly. “I remember one time you said you would love to be on the other end, watching someone else pleasure me.” He tries to hide his embarrassed grin. “I did say that, didn't I?” 
“Yeah, you did,” running her finger down his black mask covered cheek and then turning her attention back to me. I stare at her blankly through the eye holes of my mask, wondering just where in the hell this new found confidence she has has come from. “You heard me,” she says, to me, voice thick with authority. I swallow hard. “Tell me again, Princess. Tell me what you want me to do.” My eyes are glued to hers and suddenly I’m starving for her, yearning to taste her.
She sits up, bringing her partially covered breasts, that smell of Folio's dried cum, closer to my face. They look so luscious and soft. Resisting the urge to slip my tongue down and in the valley between them is proving to be impossible. She raises my face to look at her. “Eyes up her, Sebastian,” she smirks.
“Last name basis now? That's three of four times you've called me by my last name,” I grumble, looking down below as two of my fingers disappear inside her again. She moans and grinds her core against them. “We both know that's not your last name,” she mutters, sitting back against the couch, watching my hand, too. I raise my eyes to hers. “What do you want from me, Princess?” I thrust my fingers up inside her, twisting and curling them slowly while pinching her clit. Her desperate moans fill the empty silence around us as her hips rock involuntarily, 
She runs her hand down my cloth face, staring at me in the mask as if studying me. I sit up on my knees meeting her lips as she grabs the bottom of the mask to pull me in closer. My hands snake around her face as she continues to attack my lips and my tongue, slipping her kisses down my neck and jawline. “Goddammit,” I sigh as her lips glide over my skin. “Fuck, Princess. What do you want from me?” She brings her forehead to mine. “I want you to eat me, Sebastian. Fuck me with your mouth and make me cum in your mouth” she begs against my lips, licking them with her tongue. My cock throbs and twitches between my legs. My knees weaken the more I resist her. “Not until you say, please,” I order in a throaty voice. Her answer comes out in a warm, shaky breath.  “Please, Sir.” 
Motherfucker. 
Digging my fingers deep into her tender skin, hoping it’ll leave bruises, I grab her thighs with force and yank her down until her ass is hanging off the couch. “You want me to eat out this pretty little cunt of yours, Princess?” I taunt, my words soft but the words intentionally rough. “Tongue fuck you until you beg me to let you cum? Is that what you want?” She nods quickly, biting her lip. “Use your words, baby,” I huff, positioning myself in the right place.
“Yes, Noah please,” she begs, reaching over and placing her hand on the back of my head. I allow her to guide me down between her thighs. Her pussy is swollen yet still soaked and glistening from my fingers being inside her and I can smell her as I kiss the insides of her thighs, feeling her body jerk. “Easy, baby,” I say soothingly. I’m aching to taste her, dying to have her bud between my teeth. I look up at her and she’s pleading with me through her eyes. Lifting both of her legs, I lay them on each of my shoulders, positioning myself perfectly at her core, and pepper the inside of it with kisses. My breath fans over her sensitive clit and she whines desperately, pathetically.
“When you’re with him, remember how hard I made you cum tonight. When you let Folio between you legs, remember the shape of my tongue deep inside you and the feeling of my mouth against your cunt long after tonight,” I whisper. She’s breathless beneath my touch as soon as I dive into her core, licking her clit slowly and running a finger through her slit. I don’t hesitate to insert two fingers, feeling her arch up off the couch, clawing the sofa cushion.
“Such a fucking perfect pussy, pretty girl.” I mumble against her sex, savoring the taste of her precum. I flick her bud with my tongue, licking her up and back, then drag my covered nose aggressively up and her slit. With no shame at all, she grinds against my face, letting a long, low moan go as I devour her. “Oh God," she whines, loud and clear. "Noah, that feels so good,” she moans. “So fucking good,” panting between her short whines. Her cries become repetitive, her pants become erratic. “She’s close,” Folio says standing over me, watching me eat his girlfriend out. Only his eyes and mouth can be seen. 
“Keep doing what you’re doing, especially with your fingers. She loves being eaten and fucked at the same time.” Instantly, I stop and sit back, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand as I look up at Folio. His brown eyes are on fire with wanting her again, and the moment she looks at him that fire spreads over his entire face. She looks from Folio to me and her eyes tell me everything that she's afraid to say. “Why don’t you do it?” I suggest keeping my eyes locked with hers. They light up in the most beautiful yet demented way.
“What?” “You use your fingers, Folio. I’ll keep using my mouth and together we’ll make her cum. This is what this whole night’s about, right Princess? Reconciliation between the three of us?” My tone is rough and husky, and I have no clue what Folio is thinking right now. He leans down and kisses her hard, whispering something in her ear. She grins, bites her lip, (fuck she really needs to stop biting that lip) and nods. Folio kisses her again and then looks down at me. 
“Alright, Noah, let’s violate her together,” he agrees as an animalistic expression overtakes his eyes. “Let’s make her cum together.” I say nothing, only shift my body to give him some room as he gets on his knees beside me. She looks down at the two of us and just stares for a moment. Her expression is soft and wistful and I melt when she reaches down and caresses the fabric covering my cheek. I can still feel her touch and it sets my skin ablaze. She does the same to Folio, and he takes a quick breath and leans into her touch. 
I can’t wait any longer. I pry my eyes off her and dive right back into her core, licking and sucking all of her that I can. She throws her head back, arching her back slightly, pushing her pussy harder into my face. My cock twitches and I moan, unable to get enough of her.  Folio slips two fingers at a time inside her once I sit back, plunging deep into her slippery cunt. He works his fingers against her inner walls, twisting and turning his wrist, and pulling out only to slip back in while rubbing her clit with his thumb. 
Her sweet little cries quickly become needy, filthy noises as her lips spill desperate curses. Watching Folio finger fuck her is something I never thought I’d get off on. What we’re doing is sick, but fuck, it feels so fucking good. “Nicky,” she pants. “Nicky, I’m so close baby,” crying out and grabbing his wrist. “Do you want Noah to finish you? You’re so fucking tight, I know you’re close.” She quickly nods, but whimpers as soon as he slides his fingers out of her. Before he gets up, he pushes her legs apart until they’re wide open, exposing her entire core to both of us. “Oh, fuck,” I groan at the sight.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Folio says, glancing from her wet core to her face. He leans down and runs his tongue ever her entrance, licking her as if she’s candy on a stick. “Oh god, Nicky, please,” she whines, begging as she's reaching for him. Folio shakes his head, standing to his feet. “Nope, Noah’s going to finish you, sweetheart.” He glances at me, expression darkened with emotion. 
Lifting both her legs and resting them on my shoulders again, her thighs locked tight around my head, keeping me right where she wants me as I work my tongue over and deeper into her delicious pussy, lapping up her juices. Her hands snake over the back of my head and tug at the mask, never getting enough of the way she pushes my face harder into her pussy that’s soaked in a mixture of my spit and her arousal. “Do you see the way I need you, Noah,” she whispers, rolling her hips against my face. “You only want me right now, because of how I’m making you feel, Princess, but you don’t need; you’ve never needed me.” The slow deep strokes of my tongue pull more sounds from her I never could have imagined. I begin to move with her, working her tight cunt with my tongue, but I need more. My cock needs more. 
I lower her legs and stand up, pulling her to her feet. “What’s happening, Noah? What are you doing?” she asks, anxiously. I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder, not surprised by how light she is. “This is going to be cold,” I tell her, sitting her down on the table. She gasps. “Fuck that’s cold.” “Told you,” I smirk. She just glares at me. I undo the clasp of her bra, throw it on the floor and push her down, laying her on her back, while taking a few steps back, looking at her all spread out on the table, completely naked and vulnerable. 
“Jesus, Noah, what are you doing?” Folio appears beside me and we both stare at her. She purposely lets her legs fall open, exposing everything to both of us, and I grind my teeth while shaking my head. “Does she do this with you?” Folio grins, watching the smile creep over her face as she dances her hand around her hard nipples and glistening pussy. “Every fucking time. She’s a tease, a temptress, but fuck me… she’s perfect.” Folio’s voice catches in the back of his throat and he clears it. “I love her, Noah. I’m so fucking in love with her that the thought of loosing her keeps me up at night sometimes. I'm scared she’ll leave me for someone better?” I huff a laugh.
“You’re crazy. There’s no one better for her than you, Folio.” “Yeah there is, there’s you.” My body tenses. I shake my head fiercely. “No, you're wrong. I’m not good for her, Nick. I’m everything she doesn’t deserve. I’m too toxic for her. You’re good to her. You’re everything she needs and more.” We both stare at her, watching as she sits up on her elbows, throwing her head back.
“She’s never never gonna give you up, Folio. You have her heart; completely.” I pat him on the shoulder then leave him, closing the gap between me and her. “You’re impossible,” I chide her, running my finger up her slit and inserting it inside her. Her hands wrap around my wrist, pushing me further into her and I feel my middle finger hit that soft, spongy spot, causing her to sit up and moan, clenching her jaw.
“Oh, you like that, huh?” I tease her. She nods rapidly, squeezing her eyes closed. “Fuck, Noah,” she breaths, staring into my eyes. She's so close to me, I can feel her warm breath on my lips. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Princess. I shouldn’t have been so cruel to you. God! I’m so fucking sorry.” She pulls me into her and attacks my lips, nipping them before our tongues crash together. Hers slides over mine, breathing into my mouth. 
I push her back down and grab her hips, pulling her down closer to my cock. “I just want to get my tip wet,” I tell her as her eyes grow wide. I’m not ready for you to cum on my cock yet, baby. I still need to make you cum in my mouth. But I just want to see how this feels,” I mutter, encircling my tip around her clit. “Ah, oh god,” she softly cries, watching me as I begin to tease her. 
“Fuck, Noah, you’re a lot bigger,” she gasps when I push into her entrance with the crown of my cock. “Damn, baby," I groan. Just her entrance alone feels heavenly. I drive the head in and out of her pussy, teasing her to the point that she’s a writhing mess beneath me. “Noah,” she pants, throwing her hands over her face, dragging them down slowly. 
“Noah, I,” she moans as I push into her again, making me grunt. “Ah, fuck, please, Noah, make me cum. I need it so badly,” she pleads with a whine. “Okay, Princess, since you said please.” I drop to my knees and hold her legs up, instantly diving into her and begin to devour her pussy like a starving man. I probe her opening with my tongue, drawing a shudder out of her. 
I pushed further into her, curling my tongue inside her as I seal my mouth against her wet lips, sucking and working my face hard against her. “That’s, ohhh, f-fuck Noah!” Her breathing is erratic and her cries are louder. I raise my head, but replace my mouth with my fingers and slide them in and out fast and hard. “Don’t fucking fight it, Princess. Don’t fight how fucking much you want to cum for me.” Her eyes meet mine and I see that aroused flicker in them.   
I dive back down into her pussy, continuing to fuck her with my tongue and finger, knowing how close she is. I moan against her core. I can’t get enough of the way she tastes, the way she smells. Her sex is addictive and I just want to die right here between her thighs. She’s so sinfully delicious I never want to stop. “Oh god, don’t stop. Fff-fuck, Noah!” she cries. “I’m so close, don’t stop.” “Cum for me baby. Feed me. I’ll swallow all of you.” I beg, digging my fingertips deeper into her thighs.
Finally her orgasm explodes in my mouth, ripping through her savagely. She rides my face all through her release just like she did for me earlier, willingly lapping her entire mess. But this satisfies nothing in me. It’s not enough. I want more. I want to penetrate her insides, violate every part of her until I have her crying, screaming, and begging me to stop. I want her pathetically at my mercy Fuck! I need to fuck her hard; now.
I climb to my feet and before she even has time to recover, I grab her arm and throw her over my shoulder again, grabbing the rope as I make my way to the bedroom, tossing her on the bed once there, climbing up behind her. Folio enters, watching as I get on my knees and shove her down into the mattress to tie her up. “What are you doing to her, Noah,” he asks hesitantly. I can hear the worry in his voice. “I’m restraining her again,” I answer calmly.
“Why?” "Because I want too and because I can." I slip my arm under her and lift her ass up higher. It’s pale and beautiful, like a porcelain trinket you shouldn’t touch because it might break. Well, fuck that. I raise my hand and slap her ass cheek, groaning the instant she shrieks. “You like that, don’t you Princess. I knew you would. I know you like it rough.” I do it again, this time to the other side. Her moan echoes through the room. “Goddammit, Noah, what the fuck!” Folio cries. 
The sight of her face down and ass up awakens the inner monster in me, bringing out the depraved hunger in me of wanting to see her squirm and writhe beneath the force of my desire. “But she likes it. Don’t you baby?” She whimpers, but answers that she does. Her confession surprises Folio. “You like Noah being rough with you; tying you up and spanking you?” “Yes,” she quickly admits. 
Folio steps over to the bed, looking down at his girlfriend in the position that she’s in. Even through the mask, I can see a deep craving settle in his eyes. “Come on, Folio. I know you have it in you. That one night in the kitchen when you had her over the kitchen table was insane. Don’t deny it felt great.”
He glances at me with a darkened look. “You wanna feel his hand on your ass again?” he teases, running his hand over the smooth red skin of her ass cheek.
He leans down and kisses the redness, softly gliding his lips, tongue, and the tip of his nose over her skin and making her shudder. A soft moan slips past her lips, making my cock twitch. I’m swollen hard again and in need of a desperate release. “I want to feel yours, baby, she whines, practically begging him for it. 
Folio doesn’t bother to answer. He just raises his hand and lets it come down with a loud slap. She screams, followed by another ungodly moan and Folio groans, throwing his head back while palming his cock. “Feels fucking good, doesn’t it,” I chuckle, gloating in the fact that I was right and he knows it. He looks over at me, but doesn’t say anything. His eyes say it all; he’s turned on by her pain.
“You want it rough baby? You want me to make it hurt?” he growls, letting his hand come down on her again. “Fuck, Nicky,” she cries, burying her face in the mattress. Folio’s afraid he’s hurt her. He kneels down at the side of the bed, brushing hair out of her eyes. She shakes her head at whatever he says to her and slides his hand into one of hers that’s still loosely bound behind her, squeezing it and kissing her on the lips before standing back up, taking his mask off. 
“I know I told you anything goes, but I swear to god Noah, if you hurt her in any way that makes her feel uncomfortable,” “I won’t, I promise, Nick. You should know that. I love her.” His eyes grow wide. “Don’t look surprised. You and I both know you’re not. You’ve known for a long time.” “Why do you think I suggested this?” I nod. “I’m just not used to hearing you say it.”
I run my hand gently over her bottom, over the red welted hand prints of both mine and Folio’s and notice how her body cringes from my touch. It strikes an ache in my heart. “It’s not going to change anything though, Noah, you know that, right? None of this will. After tonight, you and her will have your shit worked out and she and I can finally move on together; finally bury the past.” I look back down at her and run my hand up her spine, only to feel her skin prickle from my touch.  
“But it does, Folio. It changes everything even if it’s only for tonight. I don’t think she’s going to want to give me up that easily after tonight, and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to either.” “You have no choice, Noah. She’s mine.” Without another word, Folio walks off, heading towards the bathroom. 
“Noah,” she calls to me softly. I climb onto the bed behind her and wrap my arm around her waist, lifting her up to her knees. I lean over her back to kiss the side of her face, but she turns her head quick enough for our lips to collide.
The heat that engulfs us is overwhelming. I can’t stop the way my tongue immediately consumes the inside of her mouth tasting what remains of my cum from earlier or the way my hands snake around her throat, fingers trailing covetously over her skin. She whimpers quietly beneath my kiss and my touch. “I think you liked being spanked by me a little too much, didn’t you.” She shakes her head, but I reach under her and feel her warm, soaked cunt.
“Lier,” I whisper in her ear. You wanna feel my hand on your ass again? You want it to hurt?” Her muffled moan is the only answer I need. I spank her again, harder this time and she bucks, screaming into the mattress. “I knew you like it rough.” “Maybe I do,” she fires back, choking back a moan, “but I hate fucking mind games, Noah!” 
Her words hit me in the chest like a gut punch to the stomach. “You fucked with my head for so long and now you’re fucking with my heart, and I can’t handle it anymore.” “I know, okay! I know the things I did to you, the mind games I played with you were wrong. And I know that what we’re doing now is wrong! I'm sorry! Okay! I’m fucking sorry.” I can’t breathe. My chest is so tight and I feel like the walls are closing in on me. 
I hear her breath catch in the back of her throat as she chokes back a sob. “I just fucking wanted you so much, Princess, but I was scared you didn't want me,” I confess no longer caring how desperate or pathetic I sound to her. 
Unable to control the urge, I slide one of my fingers deep into her cunt, feeling how drenched in arousal she is as she clenches around me, making me groan in an aching neediness to possess her. “I thought that I wasn’t good enough for you. I thought that if I was mean enough to you it would change how my heart felt about you.”
Folio walks back into the room, and I can feel his eyes on my back but I no longer care about him or his feelings. I only care about one thing right now; the woman in my arms. This is our moment. This is where we work our shit out. We’ll just fuck it out of each other until neither one of us is in pain anymore. “And did it work?” she asks, barely above a whisper, gasping when I pull my finger out of her.  
“…. No. It only made me want you more,” I say without hesitation, sucking her juice off my finger. A single tear slides down her cheek, causing my heart to plummet to the pit of my stomach. “Noah, you have me right now to do whatever you want to me, to make me feel whatever, however you want.” My hand around her waist drifts to the warmth of her pussy again. She bucks her hips and moans at the feeling of my hand all over her soaked cunt, my long fingers slipping and sliding in and out of her. She feels so fucking good. 
“Jesus,” I pant, licking my dry lips. I'm rutting against her ass like a pathetic animal in heat, looking for any way to satisfy the aching swelling of my cock. “I don't want to hurt you.” “Then don’t. But I can take a little more just this last time. So fuck me like you mean in Noah. Fuck me like you’ll never have me again, because you won’t.”
Her words are a blow to my heart, one that I fully deserve. But I’m too overwhelmed with a need to be inside her to care about that right now. All I want to do now is do what she told me to do; fuck her like I mean it. I raise her up until her back is against my chest and her hands graze the side of my cock, making me buck against her. 
Wrapping me giant hands around her small breasts, I squeeze them vigorously like a depraved mad man shifting my long body awkwardly around just to take part of one in my mouth. I devour as much of it as I can from the angle I'm at, taking her pebbled nipple between my teeth and suck on it. Her labored breathing has me sitting back and her head falling against my shoulder. 
Running my hands over her sides, I slide them up and over her nipples. Her breath hitches as she inhales and I can hear the quiet moans that leave her every time I drag the middle of my palms over the pebbled flesh, pinching them hard between my thumb and finger. She thrusts her ass against me, rutting my cock
She’s pathetic, desperate, and needy, yet beautiful, resilient, and irresistible. I’m obsessed with her. Taking her breasts fully into my hands, I knead the warm flesh feeling the aching and throbbing in my balls from the need to have my cock buried inside her. Our breathing together escalates until we’re both panting and writhing in each other's arms. 
“Fuck me,” she whimpers, running her lips over my jaw line. “I need you in me. I want you, Noah.” “I should make you say please,” I say, my voice husky and dry. She moans when I pinch her nipples and rubs her ass against my cock again. “Dammit Noah, just stop talking and fuck me,” she seethes.
“Fuck,” I hiss, “but I like you desperate and demanding, so fucking needy,” I growl. I let her go and shove her back down on the mattress, lifting her ass up again and positioning where I want her. I grab the base of her neck, pressing down to hold her firm against the mattress and align my cock up to her entrance. “Say it again, Princess,” I order, this time with as much aggression that I can pull out of me.
“Fuck me, Noah, please.” “Louder!” “Noah,” she softly cries. “So Folio can hear it, Princess.” “God! Fuck me Noah. I want you to fuck me!” I look over at Folio, and he’s sitting on the couch, watching us intently. But the second his eyes glance over me, he lowers his head, throwing his hands over top. “I’m going to ruin the fuck out of you, Princess.”
“Then ruin me.”
Fuck. 
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Everything falls apart after that. My erratic hunger takes control of my senses, blurring the lines between respecting or degrading her body. I told her I don't want to hurt her, but that doesn’t mean I won't.
In the mask, I’ve become someone else; a bolder, darker me. It’s the version that takes over my mind at night when I’m all alone and sexual hunger is the only thing I can think about.  It’s the version of me I’ve never let anyone see; until now. 
I drive the head of my cock into her entrance, seeing that I really am a lot bigger than her tight hole. I take a moment to stretch her some, in and out slowly so I don’t hurt her too much. But the further in I go, the harder it is to come back out. I want to stay in her, sink all the way into her until her ass and my groin are inseparable. 
“The first time I touched you, you were so wet for me, soaked in your arousal.” I run my hand up her back, feeling her shudder, pressing harder into her. Her cries are alluring. “Then I heard you moan when you had my dick in your mouth and you swallowed every drop of my cum like a good little slut that you are.” I slowly fuck into her, forcing my cock deeper into her. “Fuck, Noah!” she cries. 
Folio’s watching us, eyes staring hard at me, about to fully fuck his girlfriend I pull out of her, feeling her legs trembling. “Spread your legs, Princess. I want to see.” My voice is like gravel, filled with lust. I’m aching so badly, my hardened cock throbbing from the slow torture even more than before. 
With her ass raised high and legs spread apart, her pussy is very visible to me. It's pink and glistening wet with her arousal I dip the tip of my cock inside her again, just to see her reaction and she pushes back instantly, rutting against it like I knew she would. “Your pussy is aching for me right now,” I mutter, thrusting my tip against her entrance. “You want it baby, well then here you go.”
With one hard vicious thrust, I enter her, letting her neck go and grabbing her hips as I pull back and give her another single, wild and aggressive thrust that makes her scream my Noah. “That’s it, Princess, scream my name,” I coax her. Another thrust. Fuck! “Holy shit, baby, your pussy feels so fucking good around me! Goddamn, you feel incredible. So tight, so fucking tight. Oh my god,” I growl as I start to fuck her in the true sense of the word until I find a rhythm that fits us. 
Her cries are loud and brutal, turning me on to the point I grow and grunt like a feral animal each time I slam back into her, coating my cock in her juices. “God you fucking love it like this, don’t you, Princess.” “Yes! Ughh I love it, fuck, Noah, I love it.” “Yeah, I know you are a pretty girl. You like my cock fucking you like this, filling you in ways Folio never can.” She screams my name, as I lift her ass higher, allowing me to fuck up into her deeper. I hit that soft spot inside her and she screams out my name again.
“Scream my name baby, that’s it!” I yell, plowing into her from behind. For long minutes, the only sound is our heavy breathing, the creaking of the bed, and the slapping of flesh hitting flesh. I’m desecrating her like I wanted to, with the depravity of my mind and body, imprinting the shape of my cock into her cunt. She won’t ever be able to forget how I feel inside her. “Louder! Scream fucking louder for me,” I growl out through clenched teeth. Her desperate moans turn into a scream, but it’s still not good enough. 
“We both know you can be louder than that, baby.” I raise my other hand and let it come down hard on her ass, smacking the pail skin again, marking a favorite spot on her that I love. It earns me the sound I’ve been looking for. “There it is! God-fucking- dammit,” I growl again, “Noah,” she pants, moaning louder. “Right there,” she cries out. “Don’t stop! Right there!” I can feel her pussy clenching my cock, telling me she’s about to cum.
“You’re nothing but a fucking little whore for me, aren’t you, Princess. You’ll let me fuck you however I want, especially if I can make that pretty pink pussy cum all over my tongue or my cock. Am I right, baby,” I growl, lifting her ass up higher to fuck her at a different angle; deeper and rougher. “Jesus, Noah!” she screams, as I find a different rhythm and position to fuck her brutally, shoving her thighs further apart as I’m hammering harder into her pussy. “Fuck,” I murmur, panting. “Fuck you’re gonna make me cum.” 
She’s gasping and crying, moaning my name over and over. “Noah,” she whimpers. “Say it again, Princess,” I growl, plunging deep into her pussy. “Fuck! Noah!” she gasps. “Who’s fucking you, baby,” grunting through another thrust. “Oh god!” she cries when I hit her g-spot. “You are, Noah. You are!” 
I grab her hair and yank her back against me. Her hands are still bound and her tangled fingers hit my chest as I lock her hip between me and the mattress. I pull out of her soaking wet cunt only to slam back in with deep force, tangling my hands into her hair even more. I let out a strained moan repeating the hard thrust again, feeling her reaction against it. “You can take it! I know you can!”
Another loud moan rips through her, echoing in the room. It’s the very thing I need to push harder into and begin to truly fuck her like she deserves; fast and relentlessly. 
Folio slips the black ski mask on and watches us from across the room, seated in the comfort of the gray couch that’s pushed up against the wall. Moments ago I watched him finger fuck her as I at her out until she came all over my face. It was so pornographic, deranged and fucked up what he and I did to her at the same time but holy fuck was it satisfying. It made every desire of possessing her mind and body come alive, fully waking the demon I’d been trying so hard to keep away. 
I can tell Folio doesn’t like what I’m doing to his girl. He’s on edge, gripping the edge of the couch so hard, his veins clearly visible in his arms and hands. 
“What’s wrong, Folio? Don’t you like what you see? Listen to her! She sounds so beautiful, just like this morning,” I taunt him, using the girl below me for my pleasure alone. She’s trying to hold out and not cum, but at the pace I’m fucking her at, she won’t last much longer. I feel the familiar build up in my groin, telling me I won’t wither. My grunts are abundant, my breathing is heavy.
Spitting on my fingers, I reach around and find that spot of her clit and rub it, knowing fully well it’s all she needs to push her over the edge. “Oh god, Noah, fuck! Noah, don’t stop, please don’t stop.” Folio stands before her, completely wrecked from everything he’s watching. He says nothing, just silently watches as his girlfriend comes apart for me.
“You wanna cum, pretty girl?” “Yeah, Noah, please,” she begs. I kiss her shoulder and give her the okay. “Alright, then cum for me baby. Cum so I can spill myself all over you!” Finally, her pussy gives in and she explodes around my cock, screaming my name as she does. Her body is trembling as I continue fucking her through her orgasm, feeling that same familiar pressure.
“Shit, goddammit Princess, I’m about to cum, f-fuck!” I growl thrusting hard into her one more time, ripping the black ski mask off, before pulling out and shoving her body back down on the mattress, spilling my seed over her ass and lower back. Completely out of breath I look up at Folio and grin wickedly at him before collapsing over top of her.
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“I had the whole damn world and I gave it all away/What did I think I would save?/For better or for worse, this is my burden to take'/Cause I'm the only one to blame/You're so much better off/With nothing but memories”
-The Fountain-
“Do you know how good it feels to have you lying here so vulnerable in my arms?” Her words cut my heart wide open. I close my eyes, absorbing the feeling of her fingertips caressing the skin of my face, over my lips, and down my neck. I slip a hand beneath her head and raise her up to meet my mouth, kissing her gently, slowly as our tongues massage one another’s. 
A chill runs over my body from her hands running down my back and over my ass, making me shiver. My body is laying over top of hers. She has one leg locked around one of mine while I have her other one spread out and my knee gently pressed against her core. She’s tired, exhausted, and spent from everything that Folio and I have put her through. 
I’ve disposed of the mask, no longer hiding behind the face of anger. I’m unguarded, a complete open book for her now and I’m terrified. I’ve never let her see me like this and I’m not sure how I feel about it. I kiss her again, taking my time to taste every part of her mouth and tongue that I can. As I stare into her soft eyes, I no longer see the resentment for me in them. I only see love and compassion. What changed? I’ve been horrible to her for the last few hours, hurting her, degrading her, saying vile and mean things to her and yet, she’s right here beneath me, even though she doesn’t belong to me. 
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“So give me something beautiful/So give me something else/I need another miracle/I really need some help, I need a miracle”
-Miracle
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” My apology catches her off guard. She frowns, expression ridden with confusion. “I was stupid and inconsiderate of you, of your heart. I tried to blame everything on you and I hurt you so badly.” I try to breathe through the panic rising in my chest, but it’s hard to. “Noah, don’t,” she says, closing her eyes.
“I know, I know, I’m not, fuck! God, this is painful.” I drop my head to her chest, and she sweetly presses me against her. My cheek lays partially on her breast, close enough to her nipple. I rub the end of my nose against it and I feel her hum in approval, and then I lick it, swirling around it with the tip of my tongue. She sighs, moaning softly and arching her back a little, encouraging me to take the whole thing into my mouth. 
Gently sucking her tit, my fingers find her pussy, and knowing it so well now, I slip two fingers inside her, sliding them over her inner walls, so wet and warm; still. I fuck her cunt slowly and as sweetly as I can, watching the mix of expressions that wash over her beautiful face. “Noah, what are you doing,” she breaths while I attack her neck with kisses, slightly covered with small purple bruises. “What does it feel like I'm doing? It doesn’t hurt does it?
She softly moans, shaking her head when my thumb circles her clit. She digs her nails into my biceps. That's when I notice her tears. Her eyes are shut tight, but the proof of hurt slides down the sides of her face. “Hey, look at me,” nudging her face with mine. Her eyes open. They're glazed over with tears. My eyes dart between hers, trying to find the answers I'm looking for. Her fingers find my lips and I kiss their tips.
“I waited you out, Noah. I waited until I hit the bottom.” “But I drowned you out, didn't I?” She doesn't say anything, just pulls me down and slips her tongue in my mouth, kissing me like she needs all the air in my lungs. “Why did you pretend not to notice? Not to care? You saw the pain and the confusion in me. You knew you were hurting me. Why didn't you stop? We could've been together, Noah. This could've been our life.” 
Watching her tears fall is destroying me. Every teardrop is a stab to the chest that cuts open the wound that I realize has never healed. “I don't know,” is the only answer I can give her. I can't look her in the eyes any longer, so I turn away, digging into my eyes with my thumb and index finger. “You were good enough, Noah, for me. You were everything I wanted. And I wanted you so fucking bad. I needed you and you just fucking left me.” “I know, okay,” I snap, weeping softly. The pain I feel is too much. I don’t want to feel it anymore. 
“I know what I did to you, and I have to fucking live with that choice for the rest of my life.” Slipping my hands around her face, I sit up and pull her into my lap. Nothing else around us seems to exist right now. I’m lost in the brokenness I feel, lost in the idea of what could’ve been, but what is at the moment just for a few more hours. Right now, she’s mine; only mine. I don’t care about what comes later. 
I’m hard for her again. I want to feel her cum on my cock one more time, but this time I want to watch her. “Noah,” she whispers, her breath shaky and weak. I slide my fingers through her folds and she’s already soaked. I lift her slightly, aligning her pussy with cock and shove myself into her, feeling instant gratification. “Uh, fuck, I like this position,” I sigh as she smiles with a light laugh and starts thrusting herself hard into me. “Noah, oh, damn.” “Yeah, I know,” I grunt. Her pace quickens, letting me know she wants to be in control.
“You want to take over? You wanna ride me, baby?” She nod’s quickly “Yeah of course you do. Alright, come on,” I say shifting myself around without coming out of her and laying on my back. “Alright, pretty girl, ride me. Make me cum for you,” I challenge her. She grabs my hands and places them on her breasts as she begins moving up and down, working my cock inside her warm cunt. The feeling is indescribable. It makes me moan, curse, dig my fingers and nails into her thighs. “God dammit, Princess, that’s it. Fuck my cock just like that. God you’re pussy fucks me so good.” Her soft moans quickly become soft screams, which are suddenly silenced by Folio’s lips on hers. He grabs her by the hair and pulls her face back towards him, devouring her lips and her tongue. 
“Make him cum, sweetheart, so I can finally have you back.” Folio’s eyes shift to mine and as much as I want to hate him and be angry at him, I can’t. It wasn’t part of the deal. I have to give her back. She doesn’t belong to me. She turns back to me, lowering herself to kiss me, dragging her lips and tongue across the skin of my neck. Taking me hands, she holds them on either side of my head, locking her fingers tight around mine, and starts to fuck me. Slow at first, fully talking my heart forever with each bite to my neck that she takes. Then her pace quickens and she fucks me harder.
“Oh fuck, baby, don’t stop,” I tell her, staring straight into her eyes. I can feel her pussy tightening around me as my cock twitches. She’s close. With every move she’s pulling my cum closer and closer to the tip with her tightness hugging it like a warm glove.  I can’t push the feeling back any longer. The heat in my groin, the tingle in my cock, my sensitive tip, and the dead giveaway… my balls fucking ache.
“God, Princess,” I pant. I’m dying to touch her, but she still has my hands pinned down. “Is this how you fucking felt, tied up?” “Worse.” “Fuck! I’m sorry! Let me go, please. I want to touch you.” “No.” I growl. “Let me go, now!” With a few more thrusts, she lets up, releasing my arms. I gather her in my arms right as I watch her cum on my cock for the first time. The way she bites her lip, throwing her head back and milking herself by grinding so hard on my cock, is all it takes for me to reach my end. 
“I wanna cum inside you,” I pant. Still cumming herself, she clings to me and whispers in my ear “the fucking fill me, Noah.” “Holy fuck!” I cry, releasing my load inside her like she wants I squeeze her tight, burying my face in the crook of her neck, feeling her kisses on the side of my face. “I love you, Noah,” she says breathlessly. This is her goodbye. “The past is over. Let's move on. I wanna move on.” 
Kissing my lips one more time, I close my eyes as she climbs off of me, letting go me, and I fall back into the comfort of the bed. She really did let me go that easily. I’m exhausted; physically and mentally. I turn my head and see my black ski mask laying next to me. I pick it up, bring it to my face and breathe in deeply. It smells like her. I let the tears fall silently as I think about her, wondering what our lives are going to look like once the three of us leave this place. I know I won't be able to look at her the same, I won’t be able to watch her and Folio together and not feel jealous, envying him every single time he goes to bed at night. I know this love I have for her could ruin me, but I can't stop. And even if I could, would I? She and I are like fire and ice, destined to collide, but never meant to be together. 
She left me. Just like I left her. She destroyed me. Just like I destroyed her. And as I lay here alone, listening to the sounds of their love making coming from the bathroom, I suddenly feel so empty without her. Even though she was never mine, losing her broke my heart.
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I'm so afraid/That the walls that I have made have locked me in/I'm not okay/But I can try my best to just pretend/So will you wait me out until I let you down?/So will you wait me out until I let you down?
Just Pretend (Acoustic)
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theamazingmuse · 1 day
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Does anyone said WINTER ARC ?
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─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─
I know that you know this term, especially on TikTok . Men love to talk about this period (October - November - December). I always said this in my posts. When you see those morning routines, how to be this or that, you don't need do those things if it's not for you.
Remember that this your life and you decide the rules.
-> This a guided plan to succeed your winter arc . No BS.
1 -Look at what you've done so far. Take a piece of paper and be blunt. What worked ? What didn't ? How did you feel this year ?
2 - What can you achieve in 3 months ? See it on a long term scale. It's useless to do things fast fast fast. You're going to lose it as fast as you reached it. For exemple, being more cultivate. Start with 3 topics that you like and look for documentary / articles about that.
3 - yes, start slow. We have so much expectations especially at the beginning (of the year) thinking that we can achieve everything. No, our old version of yourself is still here and we need to start slow to not shock this version.
4 - I guess you do this winter arc to improve yourself. You heard it before. Who you want to be ? What that version of you have ? They have an aura ? They know how to paint ? A good eloquence ? What ? Not gonna tell you to act like this version because it difficult but make some choices (slow), yet intentional choices towards this person. (the hardest part to change)
5 - If you want to be in shape, start with YouTube videos. No need to take a pilates class there is everything at home (unless you have the money to take a class). Going to the gym is easy but having the discipline is definitely not. Have a workout program, know what you want to train. There is a bunch of gym creators with your dream body.
(do not put too much pressure on yourself , it has to be enjoyable so you can stick to it)
-> practice 80/20 in you alimentation. Look at what is good for you. Regarding sugar
6 - Waking up early is for the people that don't have school or don't work traditionally. If you're a student, take some rest and be organized if you want to do this. And know what you're gonna do as an early bird
7 - if you wanna star reading, I recommend you a sky beyond the storm. This is a dystopia and I loved it. I need to read the fourth volume but it is not available for now. If you are into self development start with the 7 habits of highly effective people or the compound effect. Go with the flow, even if you read one page.
8 - Take care of yourself. Do some selfcare, massage, meditation, breath work. Learn how to do things on you own like nails, epilation, improve your makeup
9 - track what you did. On each day write down what you did and how you feel. At the start there is nothing but on December you're gonna be like WOW
10 - Lastly, at end on each week write good things that happened that week in your life. Whatever. I started by doing that and it's so peaceful. For exemple, last week I succeeded in parking the car by myself. I struggle with this pls I am just a girl . Writing this made me so happy
This period is perfect for growth. You're gonna know what you like and who you are.
I hope you stay discipline toward the person you wanna become (I wish myself that too). Everything is not gonna be perfect but always do 1%.
(if you didn't do something, be easy on yourself but don't let more that 2 days pass, get back on track)
Its gonna be challenging, not gonna lie this is hard to change. So hard. I am here to tell the truth. You're here with that version of you that you have for many years, with traumas that people gave you and now you have to deal with it alone.
There is no other choice to evolve otherwise you're gonna be the same. Go for it. I believe in you
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─
The end. I don't like traditional rules in those type of challenge. There is some of these things that might be true YES but it seems like you're gonna die if you don't take a cold shower or if you don't wake up early omg
I hope that is period is gonna be a good way for you end up 2024. By reading this you are a step ahead of everyone who waits 2025 lol
I love you wherever you are
theamazingmuse 🫐
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rockwgooglyeyes · 2 days
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Although this is extremely late, what would you say happens during and after Nyx’s and the other’s escape?
HI (I am assuming) PARA!! I'm so sorry that I never wrote something for the aftermath of Nyx's round, I had a draft but I just moved into my flat at uni and my flatmates moved in last Sunday and it's been kind of super chaotic since. I haven't had much time to write. But the finished product will be in this ask-response, for simplicity's sake. If that's okay with you
LOG (SUBJECT: Round 18 - ONYX LOSS)
SPECIMEN: 001247 (ONYX)
When the lights go out, fear is the furthest thing from Nyx's mind.
Why would he be afraid? Lang won, she won, he's so happy he could cry. She deserves it, she deserves the world, he wants to hug her and kiss her forehead and tell her that he loves her before he goes. He clutches onto her, their dance stuttering to a stop in the muddy black. He can hear the alarms going off, the panicked screams of the crowd, the footsteps clattering through the arena and the gunshots ringing out, but it all feels far away. Lang starts to push him away, her hands shaking, but he holds fast.
"It's just me, please," he rasps, voice breaking on the last syllable. She goes still in his arms, wariness clear in the steely potential energy of her limbs. He finds her forehead with his hand and brushes away her bangs from it, bending down to press a kiss to the revealed skin. "Thank you, Lang, for being my friend. I love you." She hesitates, hands twitching where they rest on his chest, before hugging him. She squeezes him tightly and lets go all too soon, distancing herself from him. She takes one step and then another, getting farther and farther each time.
Letting out a shaky breath, Nyx lets her go. Lang doesn't turn, she doesn't run away, she watches him unflinchingly in the murky darkness. If there really is an afterlife, he thinks, I will miss her when I get there. Maybe I'll get to see Kyo, or Cas. Tov might even name a constellation after me. He doesn't follow her, simply standing there and waiting for death to come. He doesn't care how it's done, whether it be a bullet through the chest or someone slams him to the ground and bashes his head in, it doesn't matter. If his last memory is one of pain, then so be it. He deserves it, after all this time of living past his expiration date.
See, it was as soon as he realized that Kyo would never love him back, it was when he first set his eyes on Asahi, it was when he stood on stage at graduation- those were the moments that told Nyx that he wouldn't make it past twenty. Here he is, though, twenty and something months, however many days over his allowance. He doesn't regret it, the moments he had in that stolen time. He was able to tell Tov he loved her, he got to tell Vera goodbye, he saw Aurien one last time and Solei, well, Solei is still alive. He just hopes that they're happy.
Nyx can't help but laugh- Tov will be absolutely furious with him for dying. For losing. At least, he hopes she hates him for it, that it makes it easier to accept that he's gone. Part of him still wishes he had done something other than laugh. He wishes that the last thing he said to her was something gentle, sweet, but he supposes it wouldn't have been true to form. He's not a sweet, gentle person. He's brittle and sharp around the edges and cruel when it counts, bitter when it hurts. Still, he wishes that he had done something better than laugh when she told him to win. He laughed because he had nothing to say, because he was surprised, because he was astounded that Tov thought he even stood a chance. After all, she knows the truth, that Cas threw the round, that he'd done it as some kind of sacrifice, some sick act of love.
(Really, Nyx should have known from the beginning, that something was off, that Cas wasn't trying as hard as he should have been, that he wasn't pouring his heart out into it like he would've been had the circumstances been different. He should've known that the calm, the acceptance in Cas' eyes was a harbinger of doom, an omen for what was to come. He didn't. He was too foolish, too naïve, too stupid to see the truth.)
When a hand clamps down over his mouth from behind him, he doesn't scream. He doesn't fight. He waits for the end, no resistance, no questions, no fear. Maybe that's why it takes him a moment to make out Aurien's voice, pleading with him.
"Nyx? Nyx, can you hear me?" He blinks, turning to see his little sister, standing stark in the darkness. Inky strands of hair is dripping into her wild eyes, she pulls down a mask covering her mouth, breathing heavily as she watches him.
"Aurien," he murmurs, breathing her name in a hushed whisper, reverent as a prayer. He takes a step forward and tucks her hair behind her ear, cupping her face with a hand, stroking his thumb down the delicate curve of her cheekbone, the gentle flutter of her eyelashes. She leans into his touch, smiling slightly and releasing a sigh of relief. "You're not supposed to be here." What happens next doesn't make sense, her eyes flashing open, fury flashing in their obsidian depths.
"Nyx," she intones, warning obvious in her tone. She places her hand on top of his, her jaw twitching with barely constrained rage.
"I've already stayed too long," he tells her, running his fingers through her hair, just as he used to when they were children and he was comforting her while she cried. "Please, save Lang instead. She doesn't deserve to die." She jerks backwards, ripping his hand away and stumbling, looking shaken to her core.
"What are you talking about?" She demands, throwing her hands up in the air. "You don't deserve to die, either." Nyx barks out a laugh, shaking his head.
"Of course, you would say that," he sighs, looking down at the ground. "But Cas died. He died so that I could live. Kyo is gone, Vera too, that's not even mentioning Tallis. You and Solei are happy, now. I'll just drag you down, with my cynicism, my baggage. You're better off forgetting about me."
"You-"
"I don't deserve to be saved."
"Well, good thing that I don't fucking care whether or not you deserve it," Aurien snaps, eyes flashing dangerously. "You're coming. We're saving you. No buts."
Of course, right after she says that, a whistle pierces the air and punctures her in the side. Right where she was shot the first time. Right where Cas was shot. Nyx catches her when she falls, grasping at her arms with shaking, sweaty hands. She coughs out blood onto his shoulder, trying to push herself back up and failing. Nyx should be helping her, he knows he should be helping her. After all, she's real.
But his vision is flickering in and out, Aurien's hair turning curly, the color of dried blood, hemoglobin on silk. She looks up at him, says something, but he can only see Castor's face, smiling at him with bloodied lips. Nyx can only hear the laugh that bubbled out of Castor in his last moments. Nyx's heart is beating the drums of war in his ears, chest heaving and tears budding in his eyes. He presses his hand to the wound in her side to stem the bleeding (like he did with Cas) and she hisses in pain just like Cas did.
Nyx chokes on his own breath, stuttering backwards, unable to do this any longer. Aurien makes a noise in surprise, crumpling to the floor, just like Cas did. Just like Cas did.
"It's not, real, he's gone," Nyx hiccups out, shaking his head, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. "He's gone, he's gone. Please, please," He repeats it, a broken record catching again on the needle, attempting to self-soothe in the face of a fracturing psyche.
"Onyx," a voice cuts through his delusions. He barely hears it and when a hand suddenly grabs his forearm, he flinches away on instinct, eyes wide, panic taking over every other faculty of his mind. The owner of the hand is he doesn't recognize, with white curly hair and a face mask just like the one Aurien was wearing, and they're looking at him sternly. "We need to get out of here."
"Wh- I- alright," Nyx acquiesces, too tired to fight anymore. "Where're we going?" His voice is hollowed out and rough, broken by his crying.
"Surveillance room," the white-haired person grunts out while picking up Aurien gingerly and holding her over their shoulder. "You know a way there?" Nyx nods, scanning his mind for the shortest route from the stage. He beckons them to follow him and darts off, lowering himself down off of the stage and going to the undercroft beneath the stage through a hidden panel. The person ducks in behind him, seeming surprised at where they end up, the racks of costumes, the tools and other supplies, microphones and cords strewn about. Nyx weaves through the mess quickly, leaving his companions to catch up as he rewires the lift to bypass the security lockdown.
"I wouldn't risk the lift if we didn't have someone injured," Nyx says quietly, fingers tangles and disentangling the cords he pulled from the outlet. Finally, the lift dings, the light turning on as the doors open with a hiss. The person holding Aurien nods to him and enters the lift. Nyx presses the button inside and opens up the admin panel to program a no-stop straight shot to the surveillance room. "See, the thing is, the undercroft and the surveillance room are directly connected because they're both backstage work areas." Nyx doesn't know why he's talking, not really, but the words are spilling out of him and it feels good to fill the silence up with something other than the hum of the electricity and the whispers in his head insisting that this isn't real either, he's already dead and this is some grandiose delusion of heaven.
They actually reach the surveillance room before the person holding Aurien even responds to his rambling which feels a bit like a blessing in disguise. There are two people already in the surveillance room, one of which whips around to face them while the other stays hunched over the admin panel, presumably doing damage control. Funnily enough, they look like Ryu and Ji-Woo but that's ridiculous. Those two went missing.
"Nyx?" The person that looks and sounds like Ryu exclaims, amber eyes widening. "Shit, what happened to Aurien, Bunny?!" The person carrying Aurien, Bunny apparently, lets out a sigh and walks out of the lift, dragging Nyx with them.
"She got shot, Ryu, obviously," Bunny answers. "Now, where's our muster point? We can't just hole up in here."
"I'm working on it," Ji-Woo barks out. Nyx has decided that they must be the real Ryu and Ji-Woo, no matter how ridiculous that is, because they both sound like them and look like them and Ryu got called Ryu by Bunny and Aurien is the real Aurien and- fuck, he should really just shut up. Ryu glances at Nyx out of the corner of his eye.
"Hey, are you okay?" Nyx blinks, frowning at Ryu in confusion. "You seem shaken up." Nyx stares at him for a moment longer before trying to smile.
"Never been better," he lies through his teeth. He's definitely been worse but suffice to say, this not one of his better days.
"I've got a muster point from Solei, c'mon, we need to go," Ji-Woo says as soon as he sends out a command for a system wide 24hr shut down. "We meet at docking bay 4D in the Φ wing. You know where that is?" Ji-Woo glances to Nyx who blinks in surprise before nodding. He finds his way to the front of their pack before darting ahead, scanning the hallways for any guards as he slowly orients himself and takes them through the weird back alleys of the arena.
"How do you even know these are here?" Ryu asks at some point while they're in an abandoned fuel cellar in Φ wing.
"Uh, trial and error mostly," Nyx replies as he tries to remember whether they go right or left from here. "Oryon took me to the last two seasons of ALNST but it didn't really supervise me well so I wandered around."
"And you never got caught?" Bunny inquires, skeptical and for good reason.
"Oh, it's left," Nyx realizes, beckoning them to follow him through the gap between two walls where there used to be insulation, before the wing was decommissioned and set for demolition. "I mean, I haven't gotten caught doing this yet." Finally, they emerge in the bay after going through the vault in the ceiling, where all the old electrical is still hanging from the rafters.
"You would have been useful to have when we did this before, Ji-Woo and I kept getting lost," Ryu remarks. Ji-Woo blushes and elbows his partner before breaking off to find Solei. He waves them over to a bulky object covered by a dusty tarp after a moment. He and Ryu drag the tarp off and Solei pops up from the bed of the truck, eyes huge and wary in the dim. Bunny settles into the bed of the truck as well, putting Aurien down gently in the pile of bedding there so that she won't get jostled too much. Solei chirps, panic obvious in their tone and Nyx feels guilt pool in his stomach. He gets into the passenger seat after Ji-Woo settles behind the wheel, unable to face his sister who he was unable to help when she needed and the friend who loves his sister as much as he does.
Nyx thinks the best thing that happened tonight was Lang surviving.
Perhaps, Nyx is not good at accepting good things.
I will tag @starry-skiez because Ryu & Ji-Woo belong to him, @bluemoonscape because Castor & Kyo belong to him, @apriciticreveries because she's Aurien's mama, @solei-eclipse is Solei's creator, @rosedeleca for Bunny & Rose. um. @zerostyrant because he asked to be tagged <3 oh and @ivanttakethis because i mention Tov <3
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pawpupster · 2 days
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Kit
Back at it again y'all. Um, this one is literally so self indulgent. That's beside the point though. I'm not trying to make it fit into any movie or existing timeline and once again I'm just making stuff up bc I can. Anyway...
Paternal Logan x child!gn!reader
Summary: Young Y/N finds their way to the mansion after long travels. Once there, Charles quickly sends Logan to bond with them because they were derived from his DNA.
warnings: nothing to worry about if you watch X-men anyway.
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Kit
Y/N wandered down a long path, utilizing their nose to lead them in the right direction. They knew they looked suspicious. I mean really, how many kids go around covered in blood? Not many, and if they do it's not long until they’re picked up and questioned. 
Y/N couldn't risk that though, they knew what would happen if humans saw the claws coming from their knuckles. That's why they needed to follow this scent. Y/N had been trekking the woods after escaping their parents basement for days now. No real direction or plan. Just thankful they were away from that personal hell... and that their mutation let them eat raw meat. Too many squirrels were eaten in the past few days.
It was day 16 that the wind brought along the scent of fellow mutants. Y/N was all too knowing of exactly what a mutant smelled like. I mean, you spend enough time locked up with nothing but your own senses and you pick apart what you can, in this case, your own scent. 
All the better at the end of the day though. Nothing could be worse than what they came from. Y/N just hoped they wouldn’t judge them too greatly for killing their torturer. 
A mass amount of mutants like the one Y/N could smell would either be helpful or harmful. They were confident they could hold their own enough to escape again if things took a turn for the worse, but they were banking on this group being helpful. As Y/N neared, they could begin to hear the sounds of laughter, definitely a good sign. 
Finally around the bend, Y/N was surprised to be greeted with a voice in their head. 
“Hello, young one. My name is Charles Xavier, what brings you here?”
Y/N was freaked out to say the least. Their body kicked back into flight or fight mode and they swore they could feel their muscles tighten to their adamantium bones. They didn’t know how to answer the question. Shouldn't it be obvious they wanted to be with those like them? Plus, who was this Charles to think he could crawl into people's heads without permission?
“You raise a good point, I apologize. You seem to be in a pretty rough shape. Please, let us assist you,” Came the kind voice in their head once again.
Unwillingly, Y/N began to find comfort in that voice. As they stared at the looming building, Y/N could only think of how unkind their father was. 
They doubted that this ‘Charles’ would infuse a woman's growing fetus with the last remains of the weapon x’s experiment’s DNA. Much less to then keep that child locked in his basement after it killed his wife by birth, though, staring at the mansion Y/N could admit its basement probably wasn’t as bad as the one they were in. 
“Oh you poor thing,” Y/N was once again interrupted in their own head, "we are just the place for you. I promise. You’ll never have to suffer like that again.”
Y/N looked back up at the mansion when they heard the great doors open. Out came a gruff looking man. Y/N was set on edge again as the man began making his way towards them at a quick pace. 
Scrambling backwards, Y/N ended up tripping and attempted to use their hands to catch themselves. This only resulted in them stabbing themselves in the thighs upon their landing. The scent of their own fresh blood flooding their nose is what sent Y/N into a true frenzy. 
Tears began to pour and growls rumbled in their throat as they once again were shocked with the voice of Charles in their head, “Do not fret Y/N, this is Logan. I believe you’ll find him to be most helpful at the moment.”
Remembering the gruff man once again, Y/N jerked their head up to find that the man had stopped a few paces from their position on the ground and was staring intently at the claws embedded in their thighs. 
“Hey bub, Charles” the man - Logan, they remembered - began hesitantly, looking up to see if Y/N was listening, “sent me to bring you in. He’s under the assumption you're some sort of backasswards offspring of mine.” Logan cocked an eyebrow at Y/N as he released his own claws from his knuckles, only to pull them back in after Y/N’s eyes flashed with recognition. 
They were shocked to hear gentle rumbles coming from the man. It was soothing. Y/N found themself starting to hiccup instead of sob, and their own growls lessened into small mewls. 
“Oh kit,” Logan started advancing again. Once near enough, he kneeled down and sat back on his heels, “let’s get those out of your legs and then we'll work on cleaning you up, okay?”
As the man began reaching towards them, Y/N flinched away and wrenched their claws out of their thighs to hold defensively before them. 
“Don’t hurt me, please! I’m sorry for coming. I didn’t mean to kill them I promise! I just wanted it to stop, please don’t hurt me,” Y/N desperately cried, eyes looking to their quickly healing thighs, hoping with everything in them that this man wouldn’t impale them with his own metal claws. 
“Kit, I’m not goin’ to hurt ya, and I’m certainly not gonna be the one to tell you off for doing whatever ya could to get out of what looks to be a tough situation. Lemme get you inside, allright. Inta a nice warm bath and some better clothes than these rags. How’s that sound?” The man spoke very gently, still with that kind rumble in his chest. 
Y/N looked up at him again when he gently grabbed their wrists to lower their claws. Y/N watched as he began to gently rub the pads of his thumbs over the inside of their wrists. Y/N was confused at first, until they watched as their claws retreated back into their forearms when Logan hit a particular muscle. They tried their best to not let the pain of the movement show, but they were sure Logan heard their small hiss and the smell of distress spike.
Making eye contact again, Logan reached out to grab Y/N under their arms. Overwhelmed with all that's happened over the last few weeks and especially the last fifteen minutes, Y/N’s body decided it was the best course of action to shift into their wolverine form… to the shock of Logan, Charles (who was viewing from Logans head), and the students out on the lawn who had been watching the interaction from a distance.
Logan could hear the students begin to murmur about the kit having a true animal form, and he even heard one brave kid question if Logan could do the same (he couldn't), but his main focus right now was making sure Y/N was taken care of. 
Carefully cradling the small wolverine to his chest, Logan made sure to keep up his gentle purrs as he made his way into the mansion. He was amazed by how quick a pack-like bond was forming between him and this kit. 
Stood in the foyer, Logan contemplated heading straight to Hank, but ultimately decided a bath would be of better use, especially when he knew any injuries have already healed.
With that in mind, he made his way up to his room. Nodding to the kids he passed in the hall, Logan made sure to keep Y/N out of their view and to glare at anyone close enough to hear his purrs.
Entering his room, Logan gently closed his door and then made his way into his bathroom. He gently set the small wolverine on his counter and began to fill his sink with warm water, all the while pressing a soothing hand over Y/N’s back.
“Don’t worry, we can do a bath just like this if you’d prefer,” Logan told Y/N when he noticed their beady eyes looking up at him. Instantly the kit relaxed under his hands and laid still while watching Logan gather a towel and his 2-in-1 from the shower. 
Once the sink was filled with sufficiently warm water, Logan picked up the kit and let them soak, gently petting the fur on the top of their head before cupping some water and wetting their head, being sure to wipe any from their eyes. 
Squeezing some shampoo into his palm, Logan made sure to scrub everywhere as efficiently as possible. It quickly became apparent that a second fill of water and scrub would be necessary. 
Midway through the sink filling for the second time, Logan heard Jean's voice in his head, “Is it alright if I come in? I promise I only have a spare change of clothes for the child and I’ll just set them on your bed, okay?”
Sending back an affirmative to her presence in his head, Logan made sure to keep a calming hold on the kit when they heard his door open with Jean’s scent rolling under the bathroom door and then close again as she left. 
“It’s all good, Y/N. Let’s get you finished here and into those clothes,” Logan said as he picked up the shampoo once again. 
After the water was running clean off the wolverines fur, Logan picked them up once again and wrapped them in a towel. 
“I’ll go grab you clothes and leave you to change,” Logan set Y/N on the ground once dry and went to grab the clothes Jean left. Going back into the bathroom with them, Logan made sure to warn, “these are just the school merch, so they smell a little starchy and dusty. Don’t worry, we’ll get you some new clothes soon enough.” With that, Logan left the room to give his kit some privacy. 
Y/N had no idea why this man was being so kind. Obviously he was like them, but they still didn’t expect this much care. Y/N can’t remember ever having hot water at their disposal, but Logan made it seem like they’d be getting that and so much more if they stayed here. Feeling calm enough to change back into their human form, Y/N quickly shed their old dirty clothes. Dressing into the sweats was easy enough, though they weren't sure how to keep them on, the pants kept slipping past their waist. 
Holding them up, Y/N stepped out of the bathroom and found Logan sitting on what they presumed to be his bed waiting for them. 
“Oh kit, c’mere,” Logan said as he realized they probably hadn’t had the comfort of sweatpants before. 
Slowly walking toward the man, Y/N was shocked when he gently tugged the string around their waist. At first Y/N thought he was going to tie them up somehow, but quickly realized he was just making a normal bow and their pants now fit. Y/N stared with wide eyes at Logan who only smiled in return. 
“C’mon, you can do with a nap, you look like yer about to drop,” Logan said as he stood from the bed. He pulled back the covers and began to make that rumbling noise Y/N liked so much again. 
Watching the man to make sure he wasn’t going to change his mind, Y/N crawled up into the bed and let themself be tucked in. It was then that they realized they had their own nice rumbly noise coming from their chest too. 
Y/N watched with hazy eyes as Logan made his way to a chair in the corner of the room. The final thing they saw before succumbing to sleep was him opening to marked page in a book. 
Logan couldn’t hold back his smile no matter how hard he tried to. The kit was too adorable when swamped in the logo-ed hoodie and sweatpants and absolutely swimming in his massive bed. Hopefully after a good sleep Y/N would be okay to see Hank and the Professor, but for right now, Logan was gonna let them sleep as long as they needed to. 
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ravensvirginity · 23 hours
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Titans #15 Review
Oh my god. Where do I even begin.
To start with my one and only positive: the art is gorgeous. Lucas Meyer is the best artist the Titans have had in ages, and his new Raven design really delivered. I'm so sad that it appears that the artist who'll be taking over for him in #16 is undoing his design changes, I think it's a massive shame. I did appreciate the detail of Raven's white cloak design having rings on her index fingers, but it feels a little pointless without the lore of Azar's rings to back it up.
Now, the negatives: literally everything else about this comic. This comic fails to deliver on an eight issue arc in any kind of satisfying way, has a bizarre and out of character tone, and severely misunderstands the lore of its main villain. They literally defeated Trigon with the power of friendship. Maybe that could work in Teen Titans Go, but in a main timeline DC comic? What?
First, the demon Raven stuff. Gar saying that demon Raven and regular Raven aren't two different people--yeah, obviously. The severe degree of separation between demon Raven and regular Raven has been one of the big issues of this arc, and this conclusion is as unsatisfying as the rest of it. Raven and her demon side being able to talk face to face isn't new, but them being two separate people with separate physical bodies who can operate completely independently of each other--while there is some precident for this, to me it's a very strange writing choice and misses the point of a demon Raven arc.
The original idea of Raven and her demon side was that her demon side is her. It's all the worst instincts she inherited from Trigon locked up and carefully controlled. When Trigon takes control of her and turns her into her demon form, everything she's repressed, both good and bad, is released. Raven still having a soft spot for the Titans in her demon form makes sense; she's still Raven, just corrupted by Trigon into something she isn't. Raven deciding to stop being evil (not that she even really was) and going back to normal from one brief conversation with her teammate does not, and is really anticlimactic.
It's just such a waste of the story's potential. If you don't want to commit to Raven being the villain of the story, don't do a demon Raven arc! It's possible to do a Trigon story without Raven being evil, I don't get why they didn't just do that. None of the drama with Raven being evil was particularly well executed, and all it seemed to do was drag the comic on longer and longer with nothing actually happening, because they were unwilling to make Raven actually do anything villanous.
All that pales in comparison to how they defeated Trigon. I don't think I've ever seen such blatant disregard for previous canon. As Raven, powered up by the other Titans, fights Trigon, Gar narrates as follows:
"I doubt Trigon has ever been in a fight. An actual fight. With someone his own size and power level. Never had to face someone like Nightwing one-on-one. Never tried to stand while being pinned by the power of Donna Troy's will. Never been blasted... with a giant-sized Apokoliptian blast from Cyborg. And never, ever... felt the full force of a Tamaranean hit powered by the stars."
WHAT?
This comic canonically takes place in the same timeline as the New Teen Titans. There are many homages to the New Teen Titans. It has been made very clear that the team started as the New Teen Titans, and then after many, many years of crazy comic book history the team reformed as the Titans of this run.
The first ever Trigon arc that introduces him and Raven as characters takes place in the first six issues of the New Teen Titans, and culminates in Trigon being defeated by the Titans and thrown into an interdimensional prison. I can't stress this enough: literally every single one of the things Gar said have never happened to Trigon happen in that fight. Donna uses her lasso to dampen Trigon's will, in combination with Raven and Arella's empathic abilities. Wally rips a hole through the fabric of reality to throw Trigon into, and Kory and Vic connect their powers to amplify their blasts to throw Trigon into the interdimensional rift. The whole thing is coordinated and managed by Dick Grayson (who was still Robin at the time).
Gar was there when all this happened. There is no reason for him to not know that this happened. The only explanation is Tom Taylor doesn't know, or he doesn't care. This would be disappointing for any comic book run, but it leaves an especially sour taste in my mouth for this to happen in a run that's so built on NTT homages. It's clear that the writing could not care less about the comic it was inspired by.
And then Garth causes Trigon to have a heart attack. Okay, that was just stupid. Admittedly, I did think the page of Raven stabbing Trigon was cool (again, the art is really the only saving grace here), but her saying "Fuck you, Dad"? Seriously? An ongoing problem in this run has been the dialog feeling janky and too much like lines from a generic superhero movie, and this line embodies that very well. I'm not opposed to swearing in comic books, but to me, this is not the right time for it. It doesn't fit the moment, and I think it's quite out of character for Raven, even if the sentiment behind it isn't.
And then Trigon isn't even dead? What does "Demons don't die. They just fade away." even mean?? Is he dead or not? Will he come back tomorrow or in a thousand years? It's such a strange, confusing letdown of an ending.
I didn't have high hopes for this issue, but it was somehow worse than I could ever have imagined. I'm so glad that this run is getting a new writer. Here's hoping that the coming issues will actually feel like a team book, and that the decades of lore and characterization of these beloved characters will actually be considered during writing.
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Note
Thanks Lizzy for the ask!
Here is a Late wincest Weds ask from me!
What is one scene or conversation Sam and Dean had that was especially wincest flavored that you want to rewrite to make it be EXPLICITLY wincest instead of weirdcest?
Muah! Ty again!
- Cassi
hi, cassi!! happy wincest wednesday!
thank YOU so much for the ask!!!
AGH! this one is so hard! my immediate reach for this one is of course the church scene. nothing like gently bandaging wounds/handfasting in a church while proclaiming your love:
DEAN: [...] But I can't do it without you. SAM: You can barely do it with me. I mean, you think I screw up everything I try. You think I need a chaperone, remember? DEAN: Come on, man. That's not what I meant. SAM: No, it's exactly what you meant. You want to know what I confessed in there? What my greatest sin was? It was how many times I let you down. I can't do that again. DEAN: Sam -- SAM: [beginning to cry] What happens when you've decided I can't be trusted again? I mean, who are you gonna turn to next time instead of me? Another angel, another -- another vampire? Do you have any idea what it feels like to watch your brother just – DEAN: Hold on, hold on! You seriously think that? Because none of it -- none of it -- is true. Listen, man, I know we've had our disagreements, okay? Hell, I know I've said some junk that set you back on your heels. But, Sammy...come on. I killed Benny to save you. I'm willing to let this bastard and all the sons of bitches that killed mom walk because of you. Don't you dare think that there is anything, past or present, that I would put in front of you! It has never been like that, ever! I need you to see that. I'm begging you. SAM: How do I stop? [SAM squeezes his hand as blood drips out onto the floor the orange glow is a little brighter but then starts to fade.] DEAN: Just let it go. SAM: I can't. It's in me, Dean. You don't know what this feels like. [DEAN wraps a bandanna around Sam’s cut.] DEAN: Hey, listen, we will figure it out, okay, just like we always do. Come on. [DEAN grabs SAM and pulls him in for a tight hug.] DEAN: Come on. Let it go, okay? Let it go, brother.
i needed sam to make his jealousy over benny more overt, and i would probably rewrite it to make it even more codependent and offputting if that's possible.
my mind also goes to dean's final monologue in s15e20, but...like...that's already borderline textual. it could stand to have just a touch more wincest:
SAM: P-Please. DEAN: I'm fading pretty...I'm fading pretty quick, so... there's a few things that I need you to hear. Come here. (Sam moves closer and Dean puts his hand on the side of Sam's neck) Let me look at you. Yeah, there he is. I'm so proud of you, Sam (Dean's hand is on Sam's shoulder and Sam is holding onto Dean wrist) DEAN: You know that? I've always looked up to you. (Sam is getting emotional, trying not to cry) Man, when we were kids, you were so damn smar... smart. You never...You never took any of dad's crap. I never knew how you did that. And you're stronger than me. You always have been. Hey, did I ever tell you... Did I ever tell you that night that, uh... that I ca... That I came for you when you were at school? You know, when dad hadn't come back from his hunting trip? SAM: Yeah, um.. Uh, the Woman in White. DEAN: The Woman in White. That's right. I must have stood outside your dorm for hours... because I didn't... I didn't know what... What you would say. (Sam is visibly crying) I thought you'd tell me to... to get lost or get dead. And I don't know what I would've done... if I didn't have you. 'Cause I was so scared. I was scared, 'cause when it all came down to it, it was always you and me. It's always been you... and me. SAM (crying): Then don't leave me. Don't leave me. I can't do this alone. DEAN: Yes, you can. SAM: Well, I don't want to. DEAN: Hey. I'm not leaving you. I'm gonna be with you... (Dean is crying as he places his fist over Sam's heart) Right here... every day. Every day you're out there and you're Li... And you're living and you're fighting, 'cause you...You always keep fighting. You hear me? I'll be there every step. I love you so much. My baby brother.
like...c'mon.
i also think i would rewrite dean in croatoan to say "you know what it's about" with his patent sam-smitten-eyes, before he gets cut off:
SAM: Dean, don't do this. Just get the hell out of here. DEAN: No way. SAM: Give me my gun, and leave. DEAN: For the last time, Sam. No. SAM: (slamming the table) This is the dumbest thing you've ever done. DEAN: Oh, I don't know about that. Remember that waitress in Tampa? (shudders) SAM: Dean, I'm sick. It's over for me. It doesn't have to be for you. DEAN: No? SAM: No, you can keep going. DEAN: Who says I want to? SAM: What? DEAN crosses to the other wall and pulls a handgun out of his waistband before sitting on the file cabinet. DEAN: I'm tired, Sam. I'm tired of this job, this life . . . this weight on my shoulders, man. I'm tired of it. SAM: So what, so you're just going to give up? You're just gonna lay down and die? Look, Dean, I know this stuff with Dad has — DEAN: You're wrong. It's not about Dad. I mean, part of it is, sure, but . . . SAM: What is it about? [my addition] DEAN: You know what it's about-- (They hear a noise outside.)
small one, and not "romantic," but definitely wincest, i think it would have been lovely if they changed s4e21 from
DEAN: No. I'm not giving him demon blood. I won't do it. BOBBY: And if he dies? DEAN: Then at least he dies human!
to:
DEAN: Then at least he dies mine!
because i think a lot of the ruby/dean conflict is about control, about who owns sam, and over who has guardianship over sam's decisions. plus, i think it reflects a lot of dean's control issues he has this season.
another small thing that could've been a joke, is during "mystery spot," sam should've tried kissing dean to see if that changed anything. dean could die immediately after, and it could've been played as a gag. i'm actually shocked he didn't try to kiss him. if it works, it works, right?
but i think my final choice has to be not a specific line of dialogue, but a scene. my ultimate choice for tweaking is the final montage in s15.
i'm talking domestic!chesters. i think it's perfect that they end up basically married in the bunker, and i would've loved to see just little hints that it's more than meets the eye. "dean's" room has the other side of the bed perfectly made. sam's jacket hangs on the other chair. dean reaches for someone on the other side of the bed before he realizes they're already up. later, dean rests a casual hand on sam's hip when he passes him in the kitchen.
at the pie festival, someone makes a comment that they're such a cute couple, and sam demurs but dean just winks. sam wipes the whipped cream off of dean's nose and puts his finger in his own mouth. dean kisses him and now they've both got shit on their face.
one of the witnesses flirts with sam and dean makes a weird face. sam steps closer to him and smiles awkwardly.
(and maybe at the very end of dean's death, a kiss he has to gasp his way through because he can barely breathe at this point.)
i just LOVE domestic!chesters. 🥺 and would have loved to see them living their domestic bliss.
thank you so much for this ask, cassi! i am so sorry it's 37 miles long, lol! this was such a fun ask! happy wincest wednesday! <3
-lizzy
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goopi-e · 1 day
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Okay, so I am not going to spoil anything (mostly because I'm not far enough to spoil anything meaningful yet), but I've been checking out A Certain Videogame...
...And "good" doesn't even begin to describe it.
It's so wonderful and refreshing, not only compared to what came immediately before, but just in general. There's nothing to worry about, there's nothing to be disappointed by, just pure joy on every step of the way. The whole thing feels as if it was tailored to fit my dreams, it's so unbelievably in tune with what I love about this series. God, it's such a Zеlda game. I am thriving.
The echo gameplay scratches the same itch I usually look for in randomizers — I've always loved non-sword combat and creative/loophole-y item usage based on some obscure, interconnected mechanics. The bind mechanic looks like something more applicable to dungeons, which I haven't seen a lot of yet, and I'm still getting used to it, but I've always loved Mаgnеsis/Ultrаhаnd, so it's not a bad addition. And, even early on, the sword gameplay is nearly not as scarce as I feared — the gauge replenishments are easy to find.
Another little thing that, despite not being the merit of the game itself, still brings me immense joy, is... It comes in Russian! And features many classic enemies and worldbuilding elements that weren't in any games previously translated to Russian! And you don't even have to scrape through the text dump or whatever, everything is conveniently placed in a compendium-ish system! You have no idea how much it pained me to not know what an official translation for the term "redead" was. Man, I love it when videogames have compendiums.
And from what little (very little) spoilers I saw of the plot-related stuff... I am pretty pleased, too. The story looks pretty intriguing as far as this series goes, I didn't think it'd steer in this direction. At this point, knowing what I know, I don't think the game can pull anything to suddenly become disappointing in that regard.
tl;dr: This game tastes like hope. Immediate fave.
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maikissed · 2 days
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cherry flavoured lips part 3
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Kylian Mbappé x reader
And there was one, very disturbing truth behind anger taking over Kylian’s common-sense: he turned wrathful and dangerous. warnings: none
Previous parts: part 1, part 2
Bon appétit!
“Hello, you” Gia beamed as soon as she opened the door before his eyes with a quick swing.
He greeted his friend with his most charming and bright smile, the sound of music coming from behind her was subtle, a sign that the party was yet about to start. Most of the time he made an appearance closer to it’s end than beginning, but there was something he anticipated way too much to delay his arrival. Gia eyed him mysteriously, with a glint of amusement painting on her face, and took a step to the side to let Kylian in.
“Happy birthday” he leaned to her to press a quick kiss on her cheek “Hope you stay such a wonderful and sweet person for another year” he smirked while pulling away, handing her a little gift bag for the occasion.
Gia snorted with a frown at his sarcastic wishes, voicing out a honey coated thank you as she accepted his present.
“Good thing you are at least good at buying gifts, though” she laughed turning around and taking his arm to lead him inside her apartment.
“I have to be honest, y/n always helped me pick them out, but this year I was on my own” he muttered eyeing the surroundings, already spotting few familiar faces.
Gia hummed at this information, not actually giving him a sign that she might be disappointed in a poorer choice of a birthday gift for her, but more thoughtfully, wondering about something that appeared in her mind. She stopped suddenly, facing him, her facial expression unreadable.
“She is here with her new tidy and well-mannered boyfriend. He’s British, you know” the way she articulated this sentence made his lips twist in a mocking smile “She didn’t tell me much, but the way things took turn between both of you worries me” one of her brows shot up as she peered at him. He knew she expected for him to clue her in to it.
“Kyliaaaaan!” there was a call from behind him, more like a roar to be honest, and he gladly turned away from Gia to greet his friend Remy. He could sense Gia’s annoyance at breaking her little investigation “Long time no see, you handsome beast” Remy laughed pulling Kylian into a tight hug “You gotta keep up, I’ll make you something to drink” and with this last sentence Remy pulled him in the direction of the bar, leaving Gia frustrated and annoyed. She turned to find y/n.
He spotted her among the crowd not so long later, and despite being surrounded by many of his good friends he haven’t seen for quite some time, he could not tear his eyes away from her and this new addition of hers, smiling politely at everyone they made the tiniest conversation with. The guy was tall, just a little scrawny though, he admitted he was good looking just enough, hair perfectly styled, a dirty blonde. But nothing really admirable, he concluded. Nevertheless there he was, standing next to her, close, very close, his arm wrapped around her waist, his palm gently caressing her side, tenderly and affectionately, Kylian was eyeing the movements of his hand along her body way too attentive. It did make him feel uncomfortable, he moved his fingers up his shirt to undo a few buttons, since he registered something growing painfully inside his gullet. The sour taste of whiskey was turning it even worse but he could not stop from sipping it. There were words around him, some questions, he believed he answered a few of them, but his mind was absent, focused on a scene few meters away. Y/n laughed, gazing up at her companion, her eyes pretty and sparkly, her hair styled different tonight, wavy and wild. Beautiful. Truthfully he did not expect her to attend with him tonight, at some point he somehow forgot about this new revelation, maybe even blocked it from being true in his mind. But right now he kept observing them together from the distance, many restless thoughts raging through his head. They truly seemed close, did he have her already? Did she fuck him? Did she enjoy it? Are they going to fuck tonight? Do they spend every night together? What the fuck? He could not believe everything that was happening right now. Anger started to take over him. And there was one, very disturbing truth behind anger taking over Kylian’s common-sense: he turned wrathful and dangerous.
-
“Are you going to introduce me?” Ian whispered in y/n’s ear, she stiffened for a moment wondering about how to escape this situation. She smiled timidly at him, taking a quick look in Kylian’s direction.
Of course she could not omit to mention about being friends with the Kylian Mbappé himself, because pressing on the lies would not do her good in her very first serious relationship. But Ian did not know how far their friendship went and she could not block her fears about the very first interaction with Kylian after they parted so coldly and unpleasantly few months ago. She was such a coward. But she could not hide the fact that she missed him.
And there was no point in opposing, it might wake some doubts and even suspicions in Ian so she agreed, nodding with a smile, and taking his hand with intention to approach Kylian. Few more steps his way and she was heavily fighting the urge to run away from here as fast as she could. Kylian noticed her in no time, a very dark but delightful smile appearing on his face as he looked at her, just at her.
“Hi” she called, rather stiffly, but she greeted him with a kind smile. He still did not look in Ian’s direction.
Kylian leaned into her, close, with aim to greet with her, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek and she felt hot and nervous. A normal greeting, as she did with every other friend present here. Nothing weird, nothing suspicious, still her legs turned weak. He said hi back as he straightened up.
“I wanted to introduce you my…” she started in English, something heavy, like a bile, or more like a stone, appeared in her throat and blocked her voice from coming out, she could not fathom why, but she swallowed heavily and added quickly: “My boyfriend, Ian”
That’s when he finally looked at him.
“Ian. Nice to meet you. I’m a huge fan” Ian added, calm and collected, with a subtle accent, he truly seemed nice.
“Kylian” he shook his stretched out hand and y/n let out a big breath of relief “Appreciate it”
“I was really surprised when y/n mentioned you guys are acquainted” Ian continued and Kylian smirked scoffingly at his choice of words. Y/n actually went pale.
“Oh, that’s how she put it?” Kylian asked, his eyes beaming playfully as he looked down at her “In fact, we know each other since diapers, our mothers are very close friends” he said nonchalantly before bringing the glass to his lips and taking a sip of his drink.
Ian peeked quickly at y/n, a sign that confirmed Kylian’s suspicions that she skimped on stories about him and how long they knew each other. And definitely skipped crucial elements regarding their long time friendship. It should make him feel downhearted, it did deep down, but he was not paying attention to it now. He was determined to prove something here, using nothing but the truth.
Although Ian did not come off perplexed at this information. His expression cool and relaxed.
“That’s great” Ian nodded “You guys go way back”
“Oh, we do” Kylian hummed, his gaze traveling back to her “Don’t worry, chérie, I am not going to embarrass you with stories, at least not so soon” a cocky smirk appearing on his lips.
And she frowned delicately, for his eyes only to see, because she guessed that the meaning hidden behind these words was not really innocent. Ian chuckled, but she could sense that he preferred to change the subject.
“You play a game this Sunday, we will stay in Paris for few more days, I was discussing it with y/n, that we should definitely buy tickets to see it”.
Yes, such conversation has taken place, but right now y/n had doubts if it was such a good idea. She hoped Ian would forget, she had various ideas about many other plans for them for this week, just to make him forget about attending the closest PSG game.
“Oh, that’s a fantastic idea” Kylian politely agreed “It’s been a long time since you last came to see me play” he turned to her, his attitude friendly and amiable, but by some means she sensed a ruse hiding beneath it all.
She was not exactly sure why she was so reluctant in this encounter. It was truly a pleasant and nice conversation they had, but she knew Kylian, she knew she hurt him, she could see it deep in his eyes.
“I’ll send you tickets, how about that?” he proposed generously.
Strange feelings enveloped y/n in a few seconds, it came out of nowhere, she did not expect it, the conversation started to fade around her suddenly. A heavy burden fell upon her shoulders quickly, like a lightning striking just beneath her feet. She started to fight for the next breath, an alarming sensation, like she was about to faint in any second now. It terrified her, strong and cold chills ran across her whole body and she muttered a fast apology, informing that she needs to find a bathroom. And she left them alone, with no second thought if it was a good idea. She did not care, she needed some time alone. She almost ran in the opposite direction, not very much focused about where she was heading. She realised she ended in Gia’s room. The noisiness of music and conversation fading in the quiet room. She rested on the closest armchair, trying to calm her nerves and shaking hands. Was she experiencing a panic attack? She wasn’t sure, she never had one before. She breathed a sing of relief as her mind started to slow down, quieting down. Looking at the shelf to her right she spotted a collection of pictures collected upon it and stood up when she noticed a few that she recognized and remembered. Gia loved stacking memories with pictures, the collection was quite impressive. Some hanged on strings along the walls of her room, other framed prettily on the shelves. A specific one caught her attention and she approached it, spotting a photo taken at one of Gia’s Christmas parties. It was her and Kylian. He was seated on a chair, looking to the side and up at her as she stood above him, her fingers delicately grazing his chin from behind, she was laughing at something, looking at him, he was smiling softly at her. She took in their appearance, scoffing at the sight of her long, colourful nails, now shorter and elegant. They both looked careless and so young, so unburdened. But what caught her attention the most was the colour of Kylian’s hair, he dyed it white at the time, and despite the fact that she was immensely drunk that night, she remembered it so well. And she remembered she used to not be so innocent as well.
-December, 2017-
“Ky!” she called as soon as she noticed him enter with a few of his friends. She was anticipating him for a whole evening. And he was always late, she was embittered, she loved partying with him and he always made her wait for him “You can take off that beanie now, it is not snowing inside” she snickered noticing him wearing a ridiculous headgear in a covered room. Was this a new style now or what?
She approached him closely, rather wobbly due to the amount of alcohol she has already poured into herself, reaching for his hat, but he shifted swiftly to avoid her reaching hand. She frowned, visibly surprised. She noticed a mysterious smile on Tchaga’s face from behind him. Interesting, he was wearing a similar hat as well.
“What is it now? Are you hiding something there?” she asked playfully, still trying to snatch the hat off his head. She was truly determined.
“Don’t” he warned, his lips stretching into a little smile and she giggled.
“Let me see” she whined, still putting up a little fight with him. But she was drunk and he was way too sober and strong for her. He grabbed her sides to steady her “You did something with your hair, didn’t you?” she laughed, excitement gushing out from her “Show me!”
“No, I did not” he opposed with an accusatory expression. Oh, he would not give her shit now. She knew he was lying. And it made her even more excited now “I’m just comfortable like this” he commented.
And she was a smart girl, that she was, so she shrugged as a sign of finally giving up, stepping away from him, making his grip on her loosening. And that was when he lost with her. She still had it in her to be clever enough and quickly reached for the hat, taking it off him in a swift move. He groaned trying to get his hat back, one hand on her waist, another gripped the forearm of the hand holding his beanie. But it was too late already, she could see it now. She did not laugh, she did not appear much surprised. She just gazed up at him, her eyes round and big as she took in his appearance. He looked like he expected some form of stronger reaction from her. She swayed in his hold.
“It’s white” she stated and he smirked in amusement at this obvious conclusion.
Was he about to make fun of her now? Looked like it.
“It’s cool, it’s hot” she emphasized, still mesmerised at the sight of him “Suits you”
“Yeah? You like it?” he chuckled, because she truly must have looked funny, so serious and so stunned.
“Mhm” she nodded “It’s sexy” she added, noticing the playfulness disappearing in his eyes, making room for something closer to curiosity now, with a bit of more intensity as he looked at her.
She was young, and she was wild, drunk, carefree and absolutely… hot right now. So many concerning feelings she had for him this whole time now dangerously skyrocketed. She realised she stood there awkwardly, trying to keep herself straight, trying to calm her racing heart, calm the drive awaken in her. She was turned on. Irrationally, rabidly turned on by her friend. She wanted to climb him. Oh, fuck. She was so drunk and as it turned out - horny. And so, so stupid.
“Alright” he murmured, his voice dropping even lower. Oh fuck, fuck! “How many drinks did you have, ma chérie?”
“A few” she choked out nervously after few seconds.
“I see” he nodded, still holding her close “Want me to take you home now?” his eyes… stood out much more now in contrast with his hair. Dark, enchanting.
Oh no, don’t talk to me like that, a little voice screamed inside her head. She was close to a tremendous break out, close to doing something foolish. She could not trust herself if they were to be alone.
“Just one more hour?” she managed to say and he accepted her proposition, swearing to keep her close to himself for the rest of the night to make sure she would not drink too much anymore. For her own good.
He was being a good friend. She began experiencing torture.
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Pete & Nat, the role models
I've been wanting to meta a lil bit about Pete for sooooo long, I have soooo many good things to say about this guy.
And soooo many complaints for Storer, as well, because instead of introducing new and annoying characters like Computer and giving more airtime to Fak's brother, I don't even remember his name... Pete's character should have been better exploited last season. Especially considering that he became a new dad of THE NEW BEGINNING.
That baby reset the timer of the whole story, which we saw on screen a couple of eps later.
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This is how Pete was introduced to us:
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That magazine was right next to Pete's computer the first time we saw him in S1's Hands (01x02) when Carmy apologized over the phone, for having sent him to UC.
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Pete is enough. No low self-esteem issues, no drama, no trauma. He's centered, stable, and most importantly: He's Nat's rock.
He's a casual guy (tennis shoes on the cover symbology), a "report maker" (name of the magazine) even though he's a lawyer. "Report makers" are reliable and organized, even borderline boring sometimes, they are certainly not daredevils, they are anal and collected. That's their profile, Pete's fits it perfectly.
Not all lawyers are "reliable". He is, because he's the report-maker type. IMO Symbolically speaking that magazine stealing the focal point of the frame for a second is probably telling us that about the character.
So, he is "enough." Yet Sugar married him and started a family with him with this flawed mindset that is nothing but her trauma response:
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More about her here:
So, my point is that you don't have to be squeaky clean and your mental health does not have to be pristine for a loving relationship you enter into to work out, not necessarily. This does not mean that Carmy doesn't have to do his part of the work to get better for Syd, which he does and is doing:
OR that Syd doesn't have to clean her side of the street too, which she does:
It means that no, you don't necessarily have to be A-OK to allow yourself to love someone and be loved by that person as long as you choose each other and help each other to do the work, that work will be individual and it will be joint and you will always need help and there is no "right time" to start but ironically enough there is such a thing as too late.
Pete & Nat prove that they are doing it together, it's certainly not easy for them, especially for Natalie, but they are succeeding at it.
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IT CAN BE DONE. it's not a utopia or even a bad idea. It can work out, sometimes it doesn't sure, but it can.
Bonus track: Pete may play cupid for Sydcarmy, I am positive Sugar will so it's not crazy he will too by proxy and here's why I have this hunch ↓
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THE BEEF STEW
Fingers crossed like pretzels rn.🤞
Remember to follow my tag #Gingerpovs 💋
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tisziny · 2 years
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I've been "having a bad day" for so many days now.
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