#i just made that person up in my head but i know they exist and i know that's probably what'd end up happening

[iloveboysinred]

WEST DISTRICT [Saturo Gojo]rewrite

18+ mdni | Gojo x fem reader smut, sequel to you've been missed

synopsis; The days following you and Gojo's encounter, nothing much had really changed. You didn't know how he always found his way into your life. One night, he decides to take you out, his heart on his sleeve as he tries to win you back.

cw; sappy Gojo, three seconds of possessive Gojo, shower sex, p in v sex, oral (fem receiving, Saturo is a munch, change my mind..) "stop running" kind of activities, porn with feelings, minimal use of y/n (I don't think I used it at all), smutty smut smut MDNI!!!!!!!!1 lmk if I missed anything, minimally proofread, written by an amateur :')

5.4k words

decided to rewrite this because I didn't like the first version at all, hope you enjoy sweet cookie bear readers :3 listened to this song while I wrote

masterlist

You had to admit slowly cutting Gojo out of your life was something you never thought possible to begin with.

All the time you had spent chasing after him and pining for his attention, you tried to now invest in yourself; improving your cursed technique, spending more time with your co-sorcerers, even indulging in new hobbies to keep yourself occupied. 

But it was hard to ignore him. He was everywhere all the time. 

Besides the few times where you would accidentally lock eyes, catching him glancing over at you on more than one occasion, you would hear chatter about him at Jujutsu Tech. Or irritatingly enough, your friends would ask questions about him, wondering why you never seemed to bring him up anymore. It seemed like no matter where you went, Gojo would follow. 

It was frustrating, trying to pretend he didn’t exist when he constantly made his presence in your world known, even if it wasn’t on purpose.

What made it worse was the fact that things hadn’t changed much from that night. Gojo still couldn’t find time in his schedule to text you, let alone call you. It stung, sure, but you weren’t the slightest bit surprised. The only thing you could say is that his gaze lingered on you longer than it used to, and he made somewhat more of an effort to try and communicate with you in person. It was nice, but you still felt like he wasn’t treating you as a priority.

“I just need you to be patient, okay?” 

His words from that night still buzzed around in your head, making you feel even more bitterness at the fact that since then he still hadn’t really made time for you. You thought maybe you were just overreacting, it had only been three days since the last time you had sex with him, and everyone knew he was a busy man. Knowing this you tried to be patient, but you just don’t know how much longer you could keep waiting. 

So, here you were, laying in bed cozied up and watching your favorite tv show. It was hard to pay attention, your mind elsewhere, the tv empty background noise to the thoughts coursing through your mind. It was late and you thought you’d probably be heading to bed soon, but you couldn’t sleep, distracted by anxiously glancing at your phone once in a while, just to end up disappointed when the screen remained blank. 

Your mind wandered over to Gojo, shamefully feeling giddy at the thought of him, his hair, his eyes, his body– down to the way he knew how to pleasure you so well. It was times like these that you wished he was there. 

The warmth in your chest almost made you feel pitiful, reminding yourself that he had to earn the right to have access to you. 

You gave your phone one last solemn glance before just deciding to pick it up, the stupidly cliché thought of “what's the worst that can happen?” convincing you to send Gojo a text.

“Saturday 7:30 A.M” “Good morning, pretty ❤️” “Good morning, toru” was the last exchange between the two of you before there had been radio silence on both ends. You stared at the texts for a second, pondering on what to send him. Should you ask what he was doing? No, it’s 8:00, what else could he be doing besides sitting at home? Maybe you should ask if he wanted to go out somewhere tomorrow– but then it would defeat the entire point of making him put in the effort. Your internal debate ended when your eyes caught the text bubble popping up on your screen. He was typing. You sat up a little in anticipation, turning your read receipts off just so he wouldn’t know you were stalking his messages.

“Heyyy pretty girl 🥰 whatcha doingggg?”

 You turned your phone off, setting it aside and trying to focus on the tv. Stopping yourself from responding too quickly. You ignored your phone when it pinged again, swallowing down your anxious excitement. You felt like a highschool girl fawning over your crush. It was almost embarrassing how hard you had to force down the urge to respond. 

But then it just kept going. Ping after ping until you caved in and checked your phone. 

“Toru <333 (26 new messages) “ 

Swiping up you gaped at the barrage of messages, the text bubble reappearing right as you opened the chat. 

“What is it, Gojo ? 26 messages is crazy.”

 “Read receipts off, baby? I knew you were ignoring me 😣” 

 “You’re one to complain. Sorry I'm not waiting hand and foot for you anymore.” 

You felt as if you were being unnecessarily cold, almost wanting to send a cheeky remark to soothe the sting of your response. But you didn’t, waiting patiently to see what he would say next. Afterall you were still on the fence about him, deciding a few rude words didn’t seem like a big deal compared to the way he has been acting for months now. 

“Ouch, pretty girl. You’re so mean to little ol’ me… anyways, I was wondering if you wanted to go out to eat with me tonight?” 

You looked down at yourself for a second, considering his offer. Your bed was comfortable and you didn’t really plan on going anywhere, your pajamas and tousled hair evidence of that. But then again, you were always cooped up in your apartment, and this kind of energy was exactly what you’d been asking him for. You texted him your agreement and he told you to be ready by 9. You’d taken your time getting ready, pampering yourself and making sure you looked nothing short of ravishing. You opted for a sleek navy cocktail dress and some black heels, your hair pinned and framing your face perfectly, your simple outfit paired with some light perfume, the elegant scent sure to attract some compliments on your night out. 

It was 9:10 when you heard a series of knocks on your door, signifying that Gojo had arrived. Glancing yourself over one last time, you opened the door to let him in. It seemed as though he had opted to keep it simple as well, wearing a plain white button up and some slacks, his blindfold gone in exchange for a simple pair of sunglasses. He greeted you, pulling a singular rose from behind his back and handing it over, a bright smile on his face. “You look amazing, y/n” he looked you over a couple of times, drinking you in. You gave him a small smile, setting the rose down on your countertop. The gesture made you want to melt, but you reminded yourself once again that this was just half a step towards him making everything up to you. 

“Well, let's go. Are you just gonna stand there, Gojo?” you quipped, impatient to get going. “Sorry, just wanted to check you out a bit, baby” He smirked when you rolled your eyes, grabbing your hand in his and leading you outside. 

The ride was getting to about 30 minutes from your place, you and Gojo driving through the city in comfortable silence. You would occasionally catch him throwing fleeting glances at you, his grip on the steering wheel tight. You could tell he was nervous about something, but you couldn’t figure out what it was. He wouldn’t tell you where you were going, or what he had planned. It was almost making your nerves act up as well, briefly wondering if he was planning to murder you or something. 

You pushed those thoughts away though, when you pulled up in front of a beautiful restaurant. It was cozy, warm lighting filtering through the blinds and jazz music faintly humming from the inside. White curtains flowing freely from the windows on the second floor balcony overlooking the city underneath. It was probably the nicest restaurant you’d ever been to. Making you confused when you noticed that nobody was inside, only a handful of waiters and waitresses standing behind the counter.

“Come on, pretty. I reserved the whole place for us.” You looked at him in mild shock, Gojo looking away from you to fumble with the car keys, turning the ignition off and stepping out, coming around to open your door and help you out of the passenger seat. The place looked so much prettier now that you were standing in front of it.  “Wow Gojo this is…a lot.” an anxious look briefly came over him, glancing between you and the building. “Is it too much?” you shook your head, offering him a shy smile. “It’s perfect, Gojo.. thank you.”

Walking in you were cheerily greeted by a waitress, bringing you up to the second floor to a balcony seat, placing down the two menus on the table. You barely caught the exchange of looks she and Gojo exchanged, the view in front of you capturing your attention almost immediately. You weren’t that high up, but you could still see the glittering lights from the buildings and skyscrapers in the distance. The breeze carried with it faint scents of food and the sounds of the city, blowing your hair out of your face, the flames from the candles dancing in the direction the wind was going. 

You could feel Gojo’s stare, and you turned to meet it. Locking eyes for a second before he hurriedly picked up the menu. 

“Gojo..” your voice was so sweet, warming his chest and encouraging him to peek at you from over the laminated piece of paper. You looked so beautiful, it took his breath away. So many questions and regrets swirling in his mind. How could he deny himself of you for so long? Why did he push you away when you were always right in front of him, waiting for him to be the person you deserved? He sighed, dropping the menu back down on the table, reaching over to grab your hand in his. “ I want to really apologize,” he knew he was starting in the right direction, but he just couldn’t get the words out, his anxiety of what you might say choking him up. 

“I should’ve never said those words to you that night– I should’ve been treating you better from the beginning, honestly. I want to ask for your forgiveness. You’re so much more to me than a booty call. I care for you. I really do. I don't care what the higher ups or anybody has to say. I want you to be mine, and I want to be yours.” His eyes bore into yours, heart dropping to his stomach when you pulled your hands away, looking at him with hesitation. He couldn’t blame you, though. The last thing he deserved from you was forgiveness. It was only fair that you broke his heart a fraction of how he had broken yours multiple times. 

“Honestly, Saturo.. I think it’ll take a little more than a few nice words and a pretty restaurant for you to erase everything you put me through. I need more effort from you. This is our first date ever and I've known you for years. I deserve better than a text here and there and a once in the blue moon call. I want you to change, okay? “ You stared at him imploringly, sitting up to wrap your arms around yourself. “ I’ve had feelings for you since I met you, but we never went anywhere. I’m just afraid you’re gonna keep wasting my time.. “ His chest tightened, bringing his hands back over, grabbing yours from their secure place in your arms. “Baby, I swear to you– on everything I love that I won’t. I’ll be the man you deserve. I’ll change and I'll be somebody that makes you happy, okay? Just give me one last chance.” 

Your face softened at his groveling, the expression of pure sincerity and pleading in his eyes making your heart clench with affection. It was so unlike him, to be so soft like this, and it felt good knowing he was doing it for you. “Okay..” he smiled at you, sweetly bringing your hand up to press a warm kiss to your knuckles. “Okay, baby.”

The night went by smoothly, you chatted, ate, danced and laughed. It was getting late now, and when you were readying yourself to leave the same waitress from before scurried up to your table, setting down a plate with a big slice of your favorite kind of cake, the words “Be my girlfriend;)” written in chocolate icing neatly decorating the plate. You looked up at Gojo with a blank look on your face, raising your eyebrows at his smug face. “Really, Saturo?” “If you don’t answer I'll eat it.” You rolled your eyes, picking up your fork and taking a piece into your mouth “We’ll see, okay?” he deflated a little, but still reached over to pick up a fork, taking his share. “You really shouldn’t eat with your mouthfull” “oh shut up, Gojo” 

When you got back in the car the atmosphere was lighter, soft music playing from the radio, the two of you sharing little stories and jokes. It was nice, and for the first time you felt content with him, allowing those same feelings you had been trying to forget come rushing back. You watched him as he drove, lazily leaning back, steering with one hand on the wheel. He looked so good and you couldn’t help but squeeze your knees together, filthy memories swirling around in your head. Quickly, you look back outside, trying to distract yourself watching the city pass you by in a blur. 

You pulled up in front of Gojo's  home, deciding you should head back to his place and leave for Jujutsu Tech together the following morning. It wasn’t as extravagant as you’d think it was, but definitely bigger than the average home. It was a bit of a distance away from the city, sitting in a secluded area surrounded by trees and other plant life. The place was vacant, and quiet, you briefly reminded yourself that Gojo spent most of his time at the school, and Megumi lived in the dorms. 

Gojo opened the car door, helping you step out and walk up the cobblestone walkway, mindful of the fact you had on heels. When you walked in he helped steady you as you took them off, dropping them right next to the door, the wooden floors cold under your bare feet. You’d been to his house a few times in the past, so you somewhat knew your way around, walking up to the grand kitchen, always clean from its lack of use. Gojo came up behind you, holding onto your waist and nuzzling his face into your neck. while you poured yourself a glass of water. 

“Hey Gojo” “hmm?” “Do you have any soap and towels? I wanna take a shower.” You felt him smile into your neck “can we take one together, pretty girl?” he hummed, rocking you side to side. You paused for a second, thinking it over. Showers with Gojo could never just be showers. He always had his hands on you, pressing up against you so you could feel how hard you had made him. He always got so touchy; threading his fingers through your hair, sucking red marks into the side of your neck. 

“Yeah...yeah Let's go” walking to his room he pulled out a pair of fluffy white towels from the closet, handing you one. You set it on the bed, opting to get out of your clothes right there instead of having to carry everything back with you. You stood in front of the mirror, catching a glimpse of Gojo behind you, watching you as you stripped right in front of him. You slipped the dress over your head. He sauntered over to you; pressing himself against your body. “Fuck…no panties, baby?” he rasped, making chills flit up and down your spine. “Mmhm” you teasingly whined your hips back into him, giggling at the low moan he breathed right by your ear. “Can we skip the shower, pretty girl? I think I'll lose my mind if I don't get a taste of you right now..” you reached up, placing your hand on his cheek, Gojo melting into your touch. He was so desperate, grabbing your hips and anchoring them against him, pressing your ass harder against his crotch. “Please..please, baby.” he whined, pressing light kisses against the side of your neck. You almost wanted to give in when you felt his hardening bulge against you. 

You pulled away from him, suppressing a laugh at the stricken look that overcame his face, grabbing the towel and wrapping it around yourself, obstructing his view of you. “Don’t be gross, Saturo. We’re sweaty. We’re taking a shower” he rolled his eyes, grabbing his towel and following you into the bathroom. 

Steam shrouded the glass of the shower doors, the heated water stinging your skin, your muscles relaxing in satisfaction. Saturo held you in his arms, his woefully resting his cheek against your shoulder. His fine strands of hair tickling your neck. 

The warmth of his body made you want to doze off. He lazily rubbed your soapy washcloth up and down your back, playfully rubbing it over the swell of your ass, flicking the soapy cloth against your skin, snickering when your head parted from his collarbone, looking up at him with a bleary glare. 

You looked so pretty right there, the steam made the warm color of your lips stand out, the droplets of water collecting in your eyelashes, dribbling down your skin tempting him to kiss you. He pressed his lips to yours, letting his eyes fall shut, blissful of the warmth radiating from your body. 

Gojo quietly sighed into the kiss when you followed his lead. Pressing your lips back against his, holding onto his shoulders and deepening the kiss. He could feel his heart beating miles a minute and he swore he would die right there; relishing the feel of your lips on his. 

He ran his hands down your sides, squeezing your hips affectionately, chasing your lips when you pulled away. Separating from you was making him dizzy, the steam in the bathroom causing sweat to sheen above his brow, the air you stole from his lungs making him struggle to catch his breath. 

“Toru…” you mumbled, pressing your lips so sweetly to the corner of his mouth, his heart clenching at the nickname. “I love when you call me that, baby..” he breathed, his crotch against yours, the beginning of an erection hard pressed against the skin of your navel. “You haven’t called me that in a good long while, pretty girl..” you closed your eyes, leaning your forehead against his collarbone. His body loomed over you, his lips pressing nips and kisses to the side of your neck. “Say it again, baby..” he bit down softly on the junction of your neck and shoulder, his soapy hands coming down to grip the swell of your ass, kneading it firmly, the washcloth long forgotten, discarded somewhere on the floor.  

“I never knew you liked it” his had creeped down to the underside of your thigh, picking your leg up and wrapping it around his waist. He backed you into the shower wall,  eyes gazing into yours. His pupils were shot, droplets dripping from his hair, and running down the front of his face. The tip of his dick kissed the skin of your pussy, the firm head of his dick bumping against your clit as he rubbed himself against you. “Anything sounds good coming from your lips” he breathed, and you smiled, placing a sweet kiss right to his collarbone. 

 Looking down, you watched his length slide back and forth between your thighs, the friction making heat slowly rise in your core, warmth swarming in your chest at the blatant display of his need for you.  “Toru, stop teasing me, its fucking hot in here” the heat in the room was frustrating, the steam from the shower and the warmth radiating from his body making you hazy. You didn't know how much longer you could let him tease you. He chuckled breathlessly at your impatience, leaning his forehead against yours. “I got you, baby.” You sighed in satisfaction when he hoisted you up, your back against the wall, his arms supporting you against the slippery surface. He reached down, teasingly rubbing the tip of his dick over your folds, tracing it over your clit a few times, making you whine, squeezing him the best you could with your legs around him.

He groaned, sliding into you. Your warm walls wrapped around him snuggly. Sucking him into your velvety walls, your pussy was a tight fit around his dick. He pumped you so full, your walls fluttered around his girth, thick tip slightly curved up from your position, pressing against your g-spot, the texture of your walls stimulating him perfectly. He rolled his hips in tight circles, slow fucking you, dragging his dick along your walls in a steady rythm. It was hard, not letting himself go and beating your walls loose, especially when you looked so good in his arms, sighing his name with every slow drag of his hips, your head falling on his shoulder, nipping at his neck no doubt marking him up. It was nothing short of heavenly, being right here with you now. 

You melted into his arms, closing your eyes in bliss, your breathing picking up with his change of pace. All you could do was call out his name. Your hands searched for something to ground yourself with, pressure building at your core. It was overwhelmingly hot now in the bathroom, his warm body working against yours and the steam from the shower blinding you, making it hard to focus on anything besides the man in front of you. He rocked his hips into you, hitting against the spongy wall of your g-spot. His thrusts were consistent and well-aimed, soft grunts falling from his lips, eyebrows furrowing with effort.

 You were crumbling beneath him, hushed curses escaping your lips, raking your nails down his back. The squelching sound of your wet pussy sucking him in was spurring him on, not letting up for a second. You felt yourself flutter around him, his thick dick stretching you open, dragging out moan after moan from your lips. It was sweet torture, the way his pelvis smacked against your ass with every thrust, barley even pulling out to roll back into you. The force of his movements makes you slowly slide down the wall, his arms struggling to hold you up against the slick surface.

 “Hold on, baby” he pulled out of you, your legs turning to jelly when he set you down. He turned off the shower, sliding the shower door open. The bathroom was foggy, making it hard not to stumble on your way out and into the bedroom.

 He eagerly laid you on the bed, crawling down in between your legs. He eased your knees apart, coming face to face with your pussy, your skin still damp. He happily sighed, languidly lapping up at your folds, sticky with the essence of your arousal. You felt your legs tense on his shoulders, Gojo spreading your thighs apart, holding them open as he tongued you down, burying his face into your pussy.

 His lips slurped your clit up, softly sucking on the bud, flicking against it with his tongue. He hummed when your hands found his hair, running your fingers through the damp locs, shuddering when he pressed his nose against the skin of your mound, running his tongue over your folds, continuously coming back up to your clit. His eyes were closed, blissfully eating you out. You whined his name, rocking yourself against his tongue. He was taking his time with you, drinking in every last drop of your leaking arousal. The pressure in your core returned, your body tingling with pleasure.

He could feel you tensing into his mouth, now look up at you with half-lidded eyes. You gasped, feeling him latch his lips around your clit and suckling on it hard, humming against your pussy in satisfaction. Your muscles tightened, a low keen escaping you when you came, your legs closing around his head. He continued to suckle on your bud, flicking the tip of his tongue to grant you extra stimulation. It was like he was on auto-pilot, his lips never leaving your clit, your body convulsing under him, helplessly jerking into his mouth. After a few minutes the overstimulation was getting to be too much for you,  weakly you pushed at his forehead, shying away from his mouth on your swollen heat.

He dragged his tongue up your slit one final time, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to your navel, your stomach rising and falling with the labor of your breaths. He propped himself up on his elbows, laying his weight on your body and gazing at you, watching you try and catch your breath. 

“You alright, baby?” he asked, looking over your face, his eyes softening at you. You threaded your fingers through his hair, tousling it, smiling down at him, appreciating how handsome he looked when he was so disheveled, his eyes were still unfocused, his chin still glistened with the juices of your orgasm. It made you all the more needy, blood recirculating through your body, clit hardening once more, gazing at him through half lidded eyes. His fucked out look making warmth swell inside you. Your weeping pussy clenched around thin air, the room temperature making your clit all the more sensitive after your orgasm.  

“I’m okay, toru.. I just need you right now.” He chuckled, pressing a kiss between the valley of your breasts, one hand coming up to softly knead your flesh, rolling his thumb over your nipple distractedly. “Is that right?” his eyes flitted back to your face, crawling up to be at eye level with you. He leaned forward to brush his lips against yours, hands coming down to spread your legs wider once more. “Yes, toru.. Please..” Your body was still hot from your most recent orgasm, the wetness between your thighs uncomfortably sticky, you could feel his hard length right below you, tip kissing the skin of your mound. “Please? Please what?” His voice was playful, almost teasing, his tone dropping down to a low murmur. You felt hot frustration bubbling up inside you, tired of his relentless teasing and prodding.

“Toru, just fuck me already, please” you pleaded, grabbing the back of his head and slamming his lips onto yours to convey your desperation. Gojo laughed into the kiss, pressing his lips harder against yours, tracing his tongue along your bottom lip. You pulled away,  a thin string of saliva connecting you to him, your eyes half lidded, panting with the effort of holding yourself up.

He leaned back, kneeling between your legs for a second, admiring the sight of your sopping cunt in front of him. He almost wanted to lean down and have his fill of you again, to tease you a little longer. But the uncomfortable ache of his dick, that's been hard for much too long, and the look of pure, carnal lust in your eyes persuaded him against it. He hastily grabbed your thighs, dragging you down so that your ass was flush against his thighs, flushed, leaking tip pressed right up against your pussy lips, throbbing with need. He braced himself, pushing into you at an agonizingly slow pace, watching your pussy suck in every last inch he had to offer. Your wet, aching pussy engulfed him, your post orgasm sensitivity making your walls twitch around him. He stayed there for a second, leaning his head back, eyebrows slightly furrowed in bliss. 

He allowed a low groan to fall from his lips, moving his hips slowly forward, your walls expanding, fluttering to welcome his girth. He closed his eyes, leaning over your body, folding you in half against his lean build. “I’ve deprived myself of you for so long, baby” he grunted, hips steadily increasing in rhythm, rocking into you, his thrusts well aimed and precise, beating against your g-spot with vigor. 

His movements felt so intense, your sensitivity amplifying the sensations he made you feel. There was nothing but static clouding your head, you couldn’t focus on anything but him inside of you, filling you to the brim with dick. It was hard to pay attention to what he was saying, his voice nothing but a murmur to your ears.

“I know i told you to be patient, baby..” you wheezed at a particularly rough thrust, hand coming down to press against his lower stomach “T-toru- ah! Baby, s-slow down” you whimpered, head lolling back when he ground his hips into you, seeing stars in your vision from the white hot pleasure shooting up your spine. “I-i told you to wait for me” he continued, panting, staring at you with half-lidded eyes, working his length into you.

 He was slowly losing his mind at the way your body reacted to him. The sounds of your pussy squelching only turning him on. “But i’m tired of waiting, baby.” he slapped your hand away, fucking into you at such a pace you felt like he was gonna split you in two. “You’re mine” he growled, burying himself deep, so deep his pelvis was pressed hard against the hilt of your mound, his fingers coming down to pinch and roll your neglected clit between his fingers, attaching his lips to your neck, biting and sucking his marks into you, solidifying his statement. “Oh my god- Saturo! Fuck, baby, s-s’good” you squealed, shutting your eyes tight, fists gripping the sheets so hard the cover sheet was starting to slip off the mattress. “I know baby, only i get to fuck you like this, you understand?” he grunted, losing himself in the way your walls massaged his length, nothing but pure bliss running through him.  The headboard rocked with the force of his thrusts, stroking your walls with a harsh rhythm, the stimulation on your clit sending you into euphoria. “I said.. Do. you. Understand?” he snapped his hips with every word, glaring into your teary eyes. You gasped, nodding your head frantically, too fucked out to even use your words properly. “Y-yes toru-aagh” you spoke in babbles, feeling like you were floating, his fingers on your clit and his thrusts making your soul ascend from your body. 

It was all too much at once, your mouth running dry as you came again, body jerking helplessly under Gojo’s weight. Your head is thrown all the way back, tears blurring your vision from the impact of your orgasm. He eased you through it, moaning into your neck as your walls repeatedly constrict and release along his length, a ring of creamy white collecting at his base. His thrusts significantly slowed down, careful not to overwhelm you while chasing his own release. 

You felt him spill into you, the warm, running substance of his cum dribbling down your thighs when he pulled out of you. You felt winded, limply laying on the bed– the feeling in your legs long gone, your body exhausted. The bed shifted, Gojo leaving for the bathroom and returning with a small towel, wiping you and himself down, trying to stop the mess between your legs from soiling the sheets. 

He flopped down next to you, bringing you into his chest as he always did, bringing the duvet over to cover you. The silence was comfortable, the two of you basking in the afterglow. You spent the rest of the night exchanging soft kisses and sweet words of affection to each other, enjoying your moment of peace together. For once you felt hopeful, no longer afraid to embrace him; and Gojo felt the same, holding you close with care, letting you doze off in his embrace, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

In the morning, despite your soreness he took you again, and again. In the kitchen, in the living room- in the shower, again. He was addicted to you, to your body. He couldn’t deny the warmth in his chest seeing you fast asleep in his bed, wearing his white button up, the thick duvet shielding you from his view. Yaga had blown your phones up multiple times, but neither of you really cared, enjoying each other’s company, exploring each other’s bodies. 

It was then he decided, watching you snuggle up into his sheets, neck littered with bites and blooming bruises– that he would do anything, anything in the world to keep you. Even something as small as picking the phone up when you called.    

taglist, requested by these lovely people(I hope you don't mind me tagging you again); @sharycatx3 @fatcatsfallingfromthesky @kalulakunundrum @elilovesall @laviefantasie

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[vessel-token]

—give me all that you can give.

Sleep Token Vessel x F!Reader.

Tags ; Explicit Sexual Content. Body Worship. Dom/Sub Undertones. Implied Body Insecurity (Reader). Mention of Religious Imagery. Cunnilingus. Nipple Play.

AN ; okay god this took me WAY too long to actually write… forgive me, truly. this was based on a post i made a little while ago, and i just finally got off my ass to write it! also holy shit, this is only the second x reader i’ve written in years, so i apologize if it’s a little shitty… it’s also awkward writing dialogue for a guy who doesn’t exactly speak. this isn’t overly graphic since i wanted to shoot for a bit more poetic vibe, but it is smut, so MDNI and read at your own risk! ⚠️

Divider ; @benkeibear

It’s a pair of calloused hands walking down your naked sides, each taking their separate turns to wander from the destined path that is your hips. It’s the way that Vessel has seen every inch of you more times than he can count and yet, his attention will always be snagged by something as simple as a mole or freckle or scar. He’s plenty aware of the existence of any mark on you of course, but they give him an excuse to detour from his inevitable goal in order to brush his thumb over them. You personally don’t understand his fascination, nor do you get why he feels he needs a reason to explore your body, but you certainly aren’t complaining.

Currently, he finds his place against your chest, his lips pressing featherlight kisses to the valley between your breasts.

“Gorgeous,” Vessel whispers, entirely sincere. “Breathtaking.”

In the back of your mind, a voice speaks out in protest of his brief praise. It gives arguments for a matter that Vessel will no longer allow you to debate. Your appearance is that of a god in his eyes, like something carved from the finest marble; intimidatingly beautiful. Your creator must have taken a little more time on you, he’s sure. It kills him a bit inside to know that you don’t always feel the same, but he understands. It isn’t something he can fight you on, he cannot change your mind by brute force alone, but he can do this.

He can prove it to you in his own way.

“Lay back for me,” Vessel tells you. It’s not quite a demand but he isn’t asking, either.

You listen, if only because you know this isn’t meant to be a time for arguing, and move from your original place on his lap in favor of sprawling over your shared bed. It feels like a dissatisfying trade off at first, but Vessel is quick to make up for it.

He situates himself between your thighs, running his hands over them before giving an appreciative squeeze. He leans down and braces himself with one hand beside your head, kissing his way down your neck as he descends upon you. Each time, without fail, you’re stuck by just how reverent Vessel is. He handles you like an object of worship, firm enough to ensure your presence, but not rough enough to mar your precious surface. Admiring and mindful, but never shy.

Of course, that isn’t always the case. Sometimes, lets his inhibitions go. On those nights, neither of you are separate entities. You’re both one thing, not exactly mortal and not exactly god, just two beings desperate to be tangled together in spite of whatever tore them apart initially. On those nights, Vessel’s back becomes decorated with the angry red lines of your clawing, while your hips and neck bear bruises in the shapes of his hands and teeth. He’ll keep going for hours until you’re both well and truly sated, grinding into you when his own stamina begins to deplete.

A warm mouth closing over your nipple startles you back into the present, your body responding before your mind as you arch your back to try and press your chest into the sensation. You can feel Vessel humming against you and you belatedly realize he must’ve done it to get your attention, which you’re all too happy to reward him with as you card your fingers through his hair.

“You’ve got me, love,” you assure him.

In response, he gropes at your other breast, pinching and rolling the hardened bud between his fingers until you whine. He sucks at the one currently in his mouth, teasing you with his teeth and tongue before ultimately pulling back.

“Where did you go?” Vessel asks, referring to your earlier daydreaming.

“To you,” you answer, smiling free and unrestrained as you gaze up at him.

You see his lips twitch up into a self-satisfied grin, clearly pleased to know he has your focus whether it’s in person or in your mind. He bends down to kiss you and his sweetness proves to be deceiving the second he slips his tongue into your mouth, seeking out your own to play with until your lungs are aching with the need for oxygen. When he pulls away, you can’t help but chase after him before you catch yourself. Unfortunately, Vessel notices before you can stop and his smugness immediately becomes evident in the way that he chuckles.

“Be patient,” he chides lightly. He places his hand over your throat in a manner entirely unnecessary but wholly intentionally, and uses it to gently press you back down into the mattress.

You bite your tongue to keep from giving him attitude, resisting the urge to point out that you’ve been patient all day and you need him now. Usually you wouldn’t even bother feigning self-control, but you’re in the mood to be spoiled and Vessel’s idea of spoiling just so happens to be persuasive enough to make you behave. Just for tonight.

Your eyes never leave Vessel’s form as he begins to kiss his way down your stomach, continuing his journey until he’s returned to his favorite spot between your legs. You feel yourself tense in anticipation, but it does little to prepare you for the spark that shoots down your spine when you feel his breath ghost over your cunt. You must’ve done this hundreds of times by now, yet something about the way Vessel does it somehow never fails to make it feel like the first.

He flattens his tongue as he drags it over your slit, pausing to pay special attention to your clit and continuing to do so until your hips are shaking with the effort not to rut against his face. He introduces his fingers to the mix, easing one into you while he continues to suck and lick. You can feel your walls twitching around the welcome intrusion, plenty slick from how long you’ve been waiting for this, and that petty side of you hopes that it gets across just how patient you’ve truly been.

“You taste divine,” Vessel groans, his voice coming out muffled because he refuses to pull away from you for longer than a second.

The compliment is sweet, but you’re more focused on trying to ride his tongue, only his hand on your thigh prevents them both from squeezing shut around his head. You’re sure he wouldn’t mind regardless, he seems to love it when you get as lost in the moment as him, but you’re trying to be good. Why, exactly? You’re starting to forget. Maybe it was to get eaten out by a man disguised as a walking sex god, or maybe it was because you needed the reassurance that you could be good. You could deserve this and Vessel.

Before your mind can spiral down that rabbit hole any further, another finger pushes into your tight heat alongside the first, crooking and scissoring them. You cry out and your hips buck on their own accord, clutching at the sheets beneath you if only so that you don’t disrupt Vessel. He licks a long stripe up your cunt again, reveling in your wetness before returning to your now-swollen clit. The constant pressure from his tongue is nearly too much, pulling all sorts of downright pornographic sounds from your throat as you writhe underneath him.

“Ves, fuck,” you hiss, daring a glance down at him. It’s a poor choice because the sight of him practically feasting on you like a man starved is almost enough to undo you. “I’m gonna cum, love, I’m—”

Vessel mumbles something that sounds a lot like permission to your wishful ears, and then he seals his lips around your clit and sucks at the same time that he buries both fingers up to the knuckle inside you. Just like that, he unravels you, your cunt clenching around his digits and your back arching off the mattress. You cum with his name on your breath, chanting it like a litany; a prayer to the man that granted you divine intervention with each touch. You weren’t sure if you’d ever make it to Heaven but here, beneath Vessel, you did not need to. You already glimpsed it every time he kissed you and told you he loved you.

He continues to lap at you until your thighs begin to tremble with the overstimulation, and you reach a hand down to gently push his head away. Vessel flashes you a toothy grin, crawling back over you and letting you get an unobstructed view of the mess you’d left on his face. That sinful tongue of his darts out to clean what he can reach, and you wipe away what he can’t with a tissue you’d plucked from the nightstand. When he leans in to kiss you, you can still taste yourself on his lips, but you consider it a worthy sacrifice as you loop your arms around his neck.

“How do you feel?” Vessel asks, bumping his nose against yours in a sickeningly sweet gesture. You never fail to notice how he always checks in on you after you have sex. Regardless of if it’s slow and sweet or rough and quick, he always ensures you’re alright.

“Like I just died and came back to life,” you snort, still a bit breathless.

The laugh he releases reverberates through his chest, a soft and steady vibration against your own as he buries his face in your neck. You can tell without even seeing him that he still has more in store for you, can feel the smirk that he presses against your skin when he kisses it. Even when he wears his mask, Vessel never seems to be able to be as discreet as he wants to be. He’s expressive and transparent for the most part, and you love that about him. Whether he’s out on stage or in private, he remains genuine.

“Then I hope you don’t mind another resurrection or two,” he whispers, his teeth brushing your throat as he speaks. “Because I’m not done with you.”

Taglist ; @lee-by-thy-side @delacroix471 @cesthoney

(let me know if you’d like to be added!)

[messedupfan]

The Hope of a Free World: The Tribute

Summary: In this version of the story, you were the one chosen to go into the Hunger Games to help carry out the plan.

A/n: So a little explanation here. You do not have to read both "The Mentor" and "The Tribute" but you do have to read "The Setup." This is sort of my version of a Choose Your Own Adventure because I saw this going both ways when the request was made. You are absolutely welcome to read both versions of the story, but thought I'd let y'all know that you don't have to. I also forgot to warn y'all before but I'm a huge Everlark fan. If you stan Everthorne, not the fic for you.

Warnings: Violence, mentions of suicide, alcoholism, drug abuse, mentions of forced prostitution, rebellion, mentions of torture.

Masterlist | The Prologue | All Stories Taglist

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When the announcement of the Third Quarter Quell declared that the tributes would be pulled from the existing pool of victors, you were itching for a drink. No, you were itching for the drug you take when you have to entertain a client you don’t like. You wanted to feel numb. You didn’t want to think about having to experience the anxiety of a reaping once again. You’ve only been a victor for four years. It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t supposed to happen. 

You had tuned in only to vote on the dress for Katniss Everdeen to wear for her upcoming nuptials. Not to find out that you have a chance at dying in the arena again.

You don’t alter your mind to escape the harsh realities. As much as you want to. You made promises to take better care of yourself. Especially after almost revealing your secrets to the wrong person while in a drunken stupor. As soon as the broadcast is over, Finnick storms into your house and pulls you out. You can hear Annie’s cries from the house they shared. It was the only home in the Victor’s Village that had all of its hidden recording devices removed. He threw you on the couch as he began to pull on his hair and mutter to himself. “Mags,” he left and returned with the older woman a few minutes later. That was everyone he could trust in the district. 

Finnick doesn’t say anything coherent at first, mostly muttering to himself as his girlfriend is hysterical. He gives Annie a heavy dose of sleep syrup and he carries her to bed when it kicks in. “It’s better if she remains in the dark,” he says as he sits in front of you and Mags. She was a sweet woman, she didn’t deserve this unfair ruling for the Games either. She shouldn’t have to go through a reaping. “Mags already knows this but I haven’t been transparent with you about the rebellion. This is happening because we’re trying to free the districts.” 

“How do you plan to do that from inside the arena? Do you realize how unfair this is for those teenagers that won last year? They just got out!” You stand up, upset on their behalf. “Katniss is the only female tribute for that district! Did the rebels think about that when deciding to throw us back in there?” 

“We decided that it was in everyone's best interest that she returned to the Games,” Finnick stated calmly. 

“I find it hard to believe that girl agreed to that,” you scoffed with a scowl. 

“She doesn’t know anything about the rebellion,” he admits. “She doesn't know about any of this and for her safety, it's best that she doesn't.” 

You shake your head. You don't understand how knowing nothing keeps people safe. It looks like it's putting people in dangerously compromising positions. “Like you said I was better off I don't know anything either! Why are you even telling me about this?” 

“Sit down,” Mags demands and even with how fired up you are, you do as she says. She hardly ever demanded anything, so you respect when she does. “Listen,” she points to Finnick and with a huff, you nod. 

“I'm telling you this because I need you to be the one to go into the Games. Mags will go in as well because she is loved by so many.” Finnick maintains eye contact with you as he tells you the plan and the reason. “People in the Capitol don't care about random tributes because they don't know them. They don't see them as people until they win. They think they know us. They claim to love us. Well, we're going to make them question everything.” 

“I still don't think it's fair for Katniss and Peeta. They have worked too hard to just be thrown back in.” You shake your head. 

“You don't get it,” Finnick says as he leans closer. “Katniss is the face of this thing. What she did with those berries was inspiring. The Capitol tried to trick her and she refused to play that game. She has to be put back in there. We're hoping that Peeta doesn't land in there again, but according to Haymitch that boy is going to be determined to go. He says it's up to Effie for that one.” 

“Is Effie a part of it too?” You ask. Finnick shakes his head. “But Haymitch is,” you ask as you try to put the prices together. He nods. “Why do you want me to go into the arena?” 

“We are going to need your help to get them out of the arena. I was going to do it but with Annie… I can't risk her getting caught by Snow. I know how to get us out of there.” Finnick says with pleading eyes. 

You nod in understanding. “I have people I care about too,” you remind him. 

“Don't worry about Wanda. She can handle herself,” he says vaguely. You don't say it, but that confirmed your suspicion that she was part of it. You couldn't believe it. There really was a rebellion. The only question was whether or not you were willing to risk your life for the cause. You look at sweet old Mags, who has already committed to the cause. There was no guarantee she'll survive long enough to see the plan through. She had to have known that. This woman possibly only had a few more good years in her and the fact that was willing to sacrifice that, helped you make your decision. 

“I'm in,” you state. 

At the reaping you stood tall and confident as you think about the last night you spent with Wanda. It wasn’t an easy arrangement, as many of your clients were hoping for a last visit with you, but she was able to get you to the Capitol a few weeks before the reaping. After that night with Finnick, the two of you trained together everyday leading up to the reaping. The pair of you were already in shape but it had been ten years since Finnick was in the Games. Neither of you has had to fight since your respective times in the arena. He might not be going into the Games but he was going to need to be ready to fight when he officially became a soldier for District 13. Your head nearly spun off your neck when he confirmed that the district was alive and well. 

“Y/n Y/l/n,” the escort, Dove, reads solemnly. She had been the district's escort for the past four years, you were her only victor and the two of you had respect for each other. You stood forward, no one was going to volunteer in your place. You knew that.

“Annie Cresta,” despite knowing the plan, it shook you to your core to hear her name being called again. She had already had major setbacks since the announcement. You can't imagine what this is going to do for her. Mags promptly volunteers in her place and the three of you are off to the Capitol to prepare for the Games. 

“3… 2… 1!” As soon as the gun goes off, you jump in the water and swim to the center of the arena. You climb onto the platform and grab a trident as fast as you can. But as you do so, Katniss has an arrow pointed at you. 

You hold up your wrist to show her the bracelet of golden flames. “It's a good thing we're allies, right?” You state with a smirk. You were reluctant when they brought you the bracelet. You didn't want to go in there without your medallion but when Finnick offered to give it to Wanda, you felt more comfortable going in with the bracelet. You did after all have to gain Katniss's trust. 

She scowls at you, not dropping the arrow pointed at your chest. “Where did you get that?”

“Where do you think?” Flash from District 5 comes up behind her. “Duck,” you warn her before throwing your trident at the jerk that used to make crude comments about Wanda. You couldn't do anything about it at the time. But you weren't going to be haunted by this death. You gave Katniss directions to find Peeta and Mags as you pulled your weapon out of the body and tossed him into the water. Looking around the arena, you tried to find the tree that Finnick stressed to you how important it was. It was difficult to know which tree he was talking about because the first part of your task being difficult enough. You swear that Snow might’ve offered extra incentives and put a target on Katniss and Peeta.   

Even with the poison fog that took Mags life and the killer monkey’s that nearly killed you and the assets, you didn't regret agreeing to put yourself in this unpredictable hell hole until the jabberjay hour. You followed Katniss when she heard her sister screaming for her to make sure that she never left your sight. The both of you were relieved for a split second seeing that it was only the bird. But the history of the bird caused your heart to drop as soon as you heard Wanda crying out for you. No. How could he know? 

“Wanda!” You couldn't stop yourself from calling out to her in fear that she was dumped in the arena or worse. 

“Y/n, it's just a jabberjay! It's not real,” Katniss tried to remind you in your panic. 

“Jabberjays copy, Katniss!” You shouted back at her as you kept your eyes in the sky. “Where do you think they got that sound?” More birds appeared. More voices calling out to her than for you. For you it started with Wanda then Annie was added as well as Finnick. For an hour, you and Katniss sat together hearing tortured cries of loved ones trying to convince yourselves it wasn't real. Peeta sat desperately on the other side of the forcefield trying to ground Katniss to reality. 

When it was over, you sat in the water to comfort yourself. It was something you were used to doing back in District 4. You needed to get out of there. You were done playing these games. You needed to be in Wanda's arms, not in here babysitting. 

The plan was difficult to execute when the time came because Katniss and Peeta still didn’t trust you or Johanna. Granted, separating the two so close to the end did seem a little suspicious. But neither of them knew that they needed to have their trackers cut out and there wasn’t a way to tell them. You and Johanna knew what had to be done. You should have been prepared for Peeta to run when heard a cannon go off. Despite trying to convince him that it wasn’t a cannon for Kantinss. Peeta ran away from you before you could cut out his tracker. You looked at Beetee for too long to make the decision to run after the boy because by the time you started chasing him, it was already too late. He was gone. “Shit,” you hissed under your breath. 

You kept on searching for him but it was difficult in the dark. It was too close to midnight and if Beetee was able to fry the system on time, you needed to make sure Peeta was untraceable to the Capitol. When you couldn't find him you started to look for Johanna and Katniss in the hopes that he found them. In the time you’ve gotten to know him, it was abundantly clear to you how much he truly loved Katniss. You thought the puppy love was cute until it disrupted the plan.

“Johanna!” You shouted into the jungle but you were met with silence. So you kept running. But the arena was still active and you didn't want to end up stuck in the wrong hour. You needed to be close to the lightning tree. So you made your way back. Hoping that the rest of them were there as the agreement was to meet back at the tree. 

They needed to be there. 

Instead, you only found Katniss with her bow drawn. This was not going according to plan. Thunder began to warm the arena that the lightning was about to strike the tree they had wrapped with a wire. The fake plan was they were going to use it to electricute the other tributes by putting one end of the wire in the water. So that when the lightning struck the tree, the electricity would run through and kill anyone that was on the beach or hiding in the water. The real plan was that Beetee was supposed to throw a spear into the forcefield that kept everyone trapped in the arena and destroy it. Giving the rebels enough time to rescue the tributes inside. 

“Remember who the real enemy is!” You shout as Katniss still holds her aim at you. Haymitch told you to say that to her just in case she tried to kill you. He claimed it would help. You can't tell from the distance but Katniss develops a plan herself as she quickly wraps the wire around her arrow as lightning starts to shine from the thunder clouds. You're about to warn Katniss to get away from the tree when Peeta tackles you from behind. 

The lightning struck the tree as she let the arrow fly and you wrestled with Peeta. With a knife you tried to take the tracker out of his arm but the blast caused him to fly backwards. He had hit you pretty hard when you were beneath him. It made you dizzy when you tried to walk and find him. Pieces of the arena came crashing down making it impossible to get to him safely. You had to accept your failure in the mission as you cut out your own tracker. You screamed in agony as you dug out the small piece of technology and crushed it between two rocks. You breathed a sigh of relief when you saw the unmarked hovercraft come in to collect everyone. You made your way closer to where Katniss laid to ensure your rescue. 

That’s when a branch broke off and knocked you to the ground. 

The actual revolution was slow moving because the face of the rebellion was indisposed. Being traumatized by arena’s one after the other had a major part in why she would scream in the middle of the night. Finding out about her home district being completely obliterated because of her actions, weighed heavy on her shoulders. It didn’t help that Johanna hit her so hard in the head with the coil of wire befe she removed the girl’s tracker. Knowing Johanna she would probably claim it was the only way but you also knew that she found Katniss irritating. Johanna is not one to give up an opportunity when it presents itself. Unfortunately, that gave Katniss the ability to constantly be heavily medicated in order to heal. The medications had side effects. One of them being hallucinations. You knew because you had to deal with it yourself in the first few months after being rescued. 

The only bright side of it all was that you had been successful in acquiring both assets. So at night when Katniss would scream her head off and disrupt everyone’s sleep, it was Peeta who was the only person that had been able to get her to stop. He would sneak out of his room and slip into hers. After a few minutes, the only sounds that would be heard throughout the infirmary were the steady beats of the heart monitors. He always snuck back into his room before the hospital staff did their morning rounds. 

You were envious of them. Not everyone that needed to make it out did. For the arena, Johanna as well as a few of the other remaining tributes had been taken by the Capitol. You could only imagine what they were doing to her there. Whatever it was, she didn’t deserve it. Outside of the arena, the list of those that couldn’t escape was worse. They captured Wanda. 

The way Finnick explained it, someone must have tipped off the Peacekeepers about their plans to escape. A swarm of white armor came after them and Finnick and Haymitch wouldn’t have made it out were it not for her sacrifice. She held the Peacekeepers off of them long enough for them to get out. Neither of the men could confirm whether or not she was still alive. Last you heard, the Capitol spies they still had didn’t have an answer either. 

You hoped that they would show her on a broadcast the way they showed Johanna a couple of times. Wanda was a popular interviewer. Not as popular as Caesar Flickerman, but she was popular enough to make a comfortable living. Popular enough that her disappearance wouldn’t go unnoticed. All you could do was hope that they would broadcast her at some point.

As much as you wanted to hate Finnick for losing her in the midst of the escape, you couldn’t. Annie was amongst those captured by the Capitol. He went a little mad when he got the news. He was also in the infirmary because of a failed suicide attempt. You didn’t think his mental state was that bad until you heard his screams, begging the doctors to let him die.

When you finally got well enough to walk around and move out of the infirmary, you still spent a lot of time there. It started with visiting Finnick, tying knots together. He was only allowed a short rope to prevent him from hanging himself with it. He only spoke once to let you know, “I wish they were dead. Annie and Wanda. And I wish we were too.” You couldn’t disagree. Anything was better than the mental torment of not knowing what is happening to them. Of not being able to protect them from the horrors. 

Instead of allowing the mental images keep you down and eat you alive, you use it as a motivator. The second you were cleared for training, you worked ten times harder than everyone there. It wasn’t a difficult adjustment because your father had you enrolled in the Hunger Games training academy when you were eight years old. It was intensive training. In fact you found the District 13 military training to be light work comparativly. Which allowed you to excel. While your fellow victors wasted away in the infirmary, you got stronger and better. Because if your Wanda is dead, you weren’t going to let her death be in vain. You were going to make certain that it meant something. 

Eventually, you got fed up waiting for Katniss and Peeta to get over themselves and get to work so you started to visit with them when you weren’t training. Which was difficult at first. Every morning there was a strict schedule printed on your forearm. Every minute was accounted for in the day. It wasn’t until you had a chat with Haymitch and Plutarch that you were able to get time allotted for the visitations in exchange for filming propaganda, or propos as Plutarch nicknamed them, and getting the Mockingjay out of the infirmary. 

They wanted you to focus on Peeta first. Haymitch said he was the one out of the two that was easier to work with. That he would be more willing to help with the cause. Outside of his low list of injuries, Peeta had it pretty rough. Unlike Katniss, his parents and his brothers didn’t make it out of District 12 in time. Leaving him orphaned. He was wallowing in his grief for longer than you think he should have. The only time he ever got out of bed was when Katniss needed him at that’s it. You were frustrated as you tried to redirect his sorrow into a fire that will burn down the Capitol and all of its corruption. You understood his pain better than most. But he needed to understand why he needed to get to work so that the person responsible for his losses can be held accountable. But it was clear there was something, or more accurately someone, that could snap him into action. 

Katniss was also a piece of work in your opinion. The first time you tried to talk to her about attending a strategy meeting, she had you removed from her room. You knew that you couldn’t convince her by treating her like a fish when using a spear. You had to be more patient. You had to think of it as waiting for a fish to get caught on your hook. But patience was difficult when is came to Katniss. She didn’t have the same excuses that Peeta used. She had her sister, her mother, and the boy that was publicly known as her cousin. Unless the rumors of District 12 having an incest problem are true, you don’t believe that he is her cousin with the way you’ve seen him moon over her. There are rumors that she is conflicted between the two and you don’t know why she wastes time fooling herself into thinking she can’t choose between him and Peeta. 

You’ve gotten to know Gale a bit in training and because you live in the corridor where unmarried individuals are given living quarters, you have seen him slipping out of girls' rooms most nights. He might have feelings for the girl on fire, but he definitely isn’t waiting around for her to commit to him. You were team Peeta all the way, you liked the baker better than the hunter. He was much kinder. Plus, you and Gale tended to butt heads a lot when you started to visit Katniss because of what you know about him. 

One incident in particular secured your low opinion of him. You were visiting Katniss during the lunch hour. You had her tray of food along with yours because you intercepted it from the nurse that was supposed to bring it to her. 

“You have to make a choice, Katniss. Him or me?” Gale demanded. The poor girl was pulling on her hair when you pressed the button to open the door. “Do you mind? We’re having a-”

“You’re done here,” you said in a firm tone as you stood tall. Gale’s frown deepened as he continued to glare at you. “It’s not a request, it’s an order.” Gale knew that you outranked him and since he had just been demoted – he prevented Commander Boggs from stopping Katniss from storming out of the first meeting she attended – he knew he couldn’t push his boundaries with you. He didn’t even possess a communicuff anymore. 

With a heavy sigh, he glanced at you and then Katniss before he stormed out. You whistled, “That guy is a piece of work.” You set her tray on the table that hovered over her bed when positioned properly. The meals had no flavor but they were nutritious and filling. Designed to keep their citizens, or soldiers as you referred to them, healthy. It wasn’t great but it was still better than what the Capitol ever did for its districts. 

“He saved my family,” she muttered as she sat up to eat her meal. You scoffed. 

“Katniss, I protected your life the entire time we were in the arena,” you started, “Are you in love with me?” She chewed her food slowly before she silently shook her head. You’re surprised that she actually had to think about it. Teenagers, you thought to yourself as you got situated in your seat to start eating with her. “Hell, I gave Peeta mouth to mouth and saved his life. Has he come in here in the middle of the night and told you that he was confused about me?” You asked and didn’t miss when her cheeks flushed. Even through everything, she still had a purity to her. You’re happy that Snow never got the chance to rob her of that. 

“No,” she whispered. 

“There you go,” you stated and sat back and reflected for a moment before continuing. “You don’t owe me or anybody else anything, Katniss. I hope you know that.” She stared directly at you for a bit after you said that. It was the first time you really got to see how young she was. You knew she was young but through all of her brave actions and the makeup they caked onto her for interviews, you couldn’t really see it. No one could. That was part of the problem with the Hunger Games and the Capitol lifestyle. “Eat before your slop gets cold,” you pointed at her tray with your spork. “Trust me, you think it’s bad warm. You don’t want to have it cold.” 

She moves the food around before taking another bite. “I want to hunt,” it was the first time she expressed something you could use. 

“Tell you what,” you said as you finished your food. “You pass your health exams and I will personally arrange a hunting day for you. But I don’t think they will let you keep the game.” 

She shrugged, “I don’t mind that. I think it’ll be good to do something.”

“It’s a deal then,” you said while collecting her empty tray. You held your free hand out to her and she shook it. That began the small tradition of the two of you making small deals with each other each day. The both of you always fulfilled your promises to each other. She moved out of the infirmary at the end of the next week and into the living quarters with her mom and sister. In the middle of the week after, you arranged for her and Peeta to visit District 12. To remind them who the real enemy was. 

You opted to stay in the hovercraft in the air. Gale did the same, unfortunately. He kept trying to join her but she’d put him in his place. You were proud. Katniss came back from her mansion with, amongst other belongings, an ugly cat that she claimed was the apple of her sister's eye. You encouraged her to make her own demands with President Coin when she asked you if it will be a problem to have Buttercup with them in 13. 

Which she did. She included immunity for those captured by the Capitol and you thanked her after the announcement with a visit with Beetee. She had no idea what she did for you with that condition. In the lab, Beetee presented her with a special bow designed for her along with a small selection of special arrows. One type lights with flames and catches its target on fire. Another was explosive. And lastly, there were arrows that were charged with an electric current strong enough to give its victim a heart attack no matter where the arrow pierced them. She only needed the plain ones to hunt. 

Your propos were still the only ones being broadcast but they weren’t nearly as inspiring or as exciting as Katniss could be with the right motivation. However, they seemed to cause enough of a stir that after helping Katniss deliver a couple of heavy elks to the kitchen, you finally see Wanda on the screen for the first time in months. She’s alive, was your first thought. 

Your heart nearly stopped at the sight. She was skinnier than before. She looked as though she hadn’t slept in weeks. She had on her vibrant red wig and heavy makeup as well as a ridiculous outfit. Something she’d never have as part of her wardrobe. You went from sharing a laugh with Katniss to nearly falling to your knees in front of one of the many screens airing the interview with, “Wanda.” You said in a broken whisper.

Katniss’s eyes stopped mid roll as she realized that the woman on the screen wasn’t just Wanda Maximoff, gossip journalist that once asked her if she was popular with the boys back home. But she was the Wanda. Your Wanda. You shook your head. Hoping that it was just a hallucination. It couldn’t be real. If she was dead that meant she wasn’t being tortured. 

“Ms. Maximoff, you had quite the reputation here in the Capitol. Why risk it for something so frivolous?” Caesar asked as the camera cut to him. He looked clean and healthy, with a new dye job. It was infuriating.

“It wasn’t… I wasn’t…” she fiddled with cards in her hands and you braced yourself for the lies she was about to be forced to say. Off camera, Caesar quietly implored Wanda to continue. “I um. My emotions, they were,” tears gathered in her eyes. She was a stubborn and strong willed woman. She hated the person she had to be for entertainment. “Y/n,” she squeaked your name out. “They made me believe that we could be together. If I… If, if we…” 

“They deceived you,” Caesar tried to help her get through the script. 

Wanda shook her head ever so slightly, no one but you would be able to catch it. “Yes,” her voice was so quiet even the microphones couldn’t catch it. Caesar has her repeat herself. “Yes, I was deceived. Y/n made me believe they loved me even though they, they,” she got stuck, she couldn’t continue with the lie but for her safety, you knew she had to. You willed her to continue. “They would have relations with other people in the Capitol.” You shut your eyes tight, knowing how much she hated what Snow forced you to do.

Caesar hummed and you wanted to smash the screen in. He was one of the worst kinds of clients. He was greedy and had the strangest fetishes and kinks. It made you sick to look at him. “I see, and do you think they tried to con their other lovers into starting a revolution with them?” You scoffed, none of it was your idea in the first place. They were painting a picture as if you came up with the whole thing. 

Wanda took a deep breath and sighed through her nose. Then you saw it, she still had your medallion. It was around her neck, slightly hidden by the excessive fabrics on her dress. “I wouldn’t know,” her voice cracked. She cleared her throat and lifted her head. “I don’t think I knew them as well as I thought I did.” 

Caesar nodded, “Yes, I think we all feel that way, Wanda. I am so sorry to see you like this. You are a dear friend of mine.” His fake sincere act had you fuming. But all you could do was stand there and watch. Your worst nightmares had come to life. Seeing Wanda in pain and not being able to do a damn thing about it. “I believe you have a message for those in the districts.” Wanda nodded as she flipped through her cards. “For those who are confused by the lies that the rebels are telling. Please, speak about the generosity of the Capitol.” 

“I would um, I would like to say.” She cleared her throat again and looked into the camera. The life in her green eyes looked as though it had been sucked out. It pained you to see it. “I know that many of you might see me as a joke. That was my job. I have kept you entertained for years. You’ve brought me into your homes every day for an hour. You know my face. You know my voice. And I need you to hear me when I say,” a lost expression crossed her features for a moment. “When I say,” you shook your head as you recognized the defiance entering her eyes. You wanted her to stick to her cards. To read whatever they had written for her. “Keep on fighting until we are free!” 

There was a lot of commotion as they tried to shut the camera’s down and remove Wanda from the room. But she fought against them in an attempt to say more. Unfortunately, before she could, a Peacekeeper hit her with the butt of their rifle and knocked her out cold. 

“I have to get her out of there,” you muttered once the screen went black. You stormed out of the mess hall and Katniss followed you to talk you out of doing something stupid. But she wasn’t sure what she could say. She had her people. She didn’t know what it was like to be in your shoes. What it was like to watch the person you loved be badgered into lying about your character. About the love the two of you shared. Only to watch her possibly lose her life for the benefit of the cause. 

You weren’t the one to convince them to start a rescue mission for Wanda and the other hostages. It was Katniss and Peeta who stepped up to negotiate terms with President Coin and Commander Boggs. It started with making propos with them. Peeta was phenomenal. Katniss however… She needed a lot more help. At a certain point, Plutarch got fed up and settled for having just you and Peeta. Unfortunately, as much as the messages from you and Peeta might’ve gotten people out of bed in the morning, it wasn’t enough to get them to fight. To remind the people of Panem who the real enemy is. Haymitch was the one who pitched for the show ponies to be taken out into the field. President Coin was opposed to it but the former drunk was able to convince everyone else which allowed Commander Boggs to agree to a mission. 

In the outskirts of District 8 where they have an old warehouse is where they brought the three of you. Along with a twom man camera crew and their director, Cressida. Her assistant. Boggs. And much to your dismay, Gale. Katniss was surrounded the entire way inside of the old warehouse. No one saw her until you, Gale, and Boggs moved out of the way. Her and Peeta stood tall together. Gasps filled the building filled with injured unarmed men, women, and children. This was the first official citing of the Mockingjay. Kids ran up to hug her. Severely injured were wheeled up close to get a look at her. You could see that Katniss needed that visit as much as any of the people there. Someone asked about the baby. In the midst of everything, you had forgotten about the claim Peeta made the night before the Quell. 

You looked at him as Katniss said she lost the baby. Her voice cracking was convincing. Peeta cast his eyes down with a deep frown and you began to grow curious. Originally, you thought that it was a lie. In fact, you felt like you had to keep reminding her about her “condition” in the arena. But in that moment you questioned how much of their story was an act. Not much time could be spent there as everyone was alerted of hovercrafts appearing. The focus was to get the victors out of there. But you wanted to stay and fight. Katniss and Peeta did as well. Gale was just as ready as anyone. Commander Boggs had lost authority as soon as the hovercrafts became visible with the Capitol emblems painted on them. Katniss finally got to test out her explosive arrows. You and Peeta were in a separate area together, shooting at the aircrafts to try and redirect their attention from the makeshift hospital. Unfortunately, that appeared to be their goal. Not you. Not Peeta. Not even Katniss. 

Despite the team's efforts, those lives were lost.  Katniss gave a harrowing speech stating, “If we burn, you burn with us!” Plutarch almost crapped his pants when the footage came together for the propo. People were inspired. But Katniss suffered the losses the hardest. 

The two of you sat together in silence as she hid in your room from all of the commotion. People had been dropping off gifts at her family’s living quarters. Peeta was moved in with them once he had gotten a clean bill of health since they were technically married. Lie or not. President Coin was not going to allow questions of their credibility. “Was there really a baby?” You asked. Katniss shook her head. 

“No,” she stated. “Peeta and I never,” she couldn’t finish the sentence as she blushed redder than Wanda’s wig. 

“What about you and grumpy?” You poked fun, it was just too easy to get her flustered. You were met with a glare so you held your hands up in surrender. There was another long stretch of silence before you got curious. “The secret wedding wasn't real either, right?” 

Katniss nodded, “All Peeta's ideas.” She cracked a smile as she looked at the wall of cement in front of her. “After, when we were back in the penthouse, he asked if he needed to apologize. I told him no.” You could tell she did care about Peeta a lot. When you had to save Peeta's life, you knew you misjudged her. But you can't help but feel a bit jealous that she has him here and you are without your Wanda. You are certain about your Wanda. 

“How's the fake married life treating you?” You asked teasingly to keep a playful energy instead of wallowing in your self pity. 

Katniss rolled her eyes and shook her head. She didn’t answer for a long moment. Then she sighed and said, “Not too bad actually.” She didn’t give any details because what she and Peeta do in private she holds sacred. You could understand because you’ve never shared stories about your time with Wanda. Not that anyone would have asked. 

The day you finally got reunited with Wanda was a bittersweet moment. She jumped into your arms as soon as she saw you running towards her. You kissed her and wanted to hold her tight but you were careful. She was thin, with cuts and bruises all over her face and body. Her right arm was crooked, like it had been broken and it didn’t heal properly. You didn't want to think about what they did to her but the evidence was all over her. You kissed her as you promised that you’d make all of them pay. She asked you to marry her. 

You said yes. 

Annie and Finnick were reunited as well. You hadn’t been able to visit with him much when you centered your focus on Katniss and Peeta but he looked healthy and he was steady enough to hold Annie in his arms. 

Johanna was amongst those that were rescued. There was no one to run to her. So you, Finnick, Katniss, and Peeta all made a point to welcome her. She flipped everyone off then pressed a button that administered morphine. She closed her eyes and fell asleep, everyone had to awkwardly shuffle out of the room. 

Gale was amongst the soldiers that volunteered and were approved to go on the rescue mission. You tried to go but Katniss and Peeta were tasked to keep you busy until the team had already left. You felt betrayed by the both of them but it was nice to have them by your side as you anxiously waited. 

With Wanda in District 13, you wanted to ignore your schedule and spend all of your time with her, but you couldn't. You had to keep your status if you were going to go to the Capitol and kill the Peacekeepers that did this to her. You wanted the pleasure of ending Snow's life yourself but it was obvious that there was a plan for the Mockingjay to have the honors. 

Wanda had to undergo surgeries to correct and help her injuries heal properly.  So it wasn’t like she was waiting for you in her room. While she was in surgery, you were in training. At night, you slept in a cot that Prim snuck into the room for you. She said that she owed you for bringing her sister not only out of the arena but back to herself. You shook her hand and declared that both of you were even. 

You were the first to mention to the people in the command room of your engagement and even offered to have the wedding televised on the condition that Annie and Finnick could have a private wedding. They deserved to continue to live in peace. Finnick hadn't made a public appearance since being in District 13 and Annie didn't need to be used as a pawn in these games anymore. Wanda was the one to suggest the wedding. She wanted to show Snow that nothing was going to get you, her, or this revolution down. 

The news of the wedding spread like a wildfire. The revolution has been so daunting that the citizens welcomed the chance to celebrate something. People would whisper in your presence and you had to awkwardly nod your way through the cafeteria as you picked up your meals before walking it to the infirmary to have the meal with Wanda. 

She blew you away with her strength. 

The first time she walked into the cafeteria, a man that was walking to a table dropped his tray off at the nearest one and ran towards her. You stood in front of her to protect her but she moved you and met him halfway. “Pietro!” She shouted with joy. You felt bad as you had forgotten about her twin brother. She'd tell you stories about him whenever the two of you took a stroll together. She told you once that he'd gotten himself in a lot of trouble with the government and the price to bail him out was too high. 

Luckily, because of her minor celebrity and her family’s status in the Capitol, she was able to barter to save him from becoming an Avox. Instead, he was forced to serve as a Peacekeeper in District 12. He was ranked pretty high in District 13 on arrival, not only for his experience as a Peacekeeper but because he helped Gale get people out of 12. You couldn't believe that you had been training with him for months and neither of you had said a word about Wanda. It was probably for the best at the end of the day. Neither of you needed to distract one another with the fears and grief. 

The three of you found somewhere to sit together and you let the twins get to catch up with each other. They were separated from each other for years. You were planning on spending the rest of your life with her, you were more than happy to third wheel the meal. 

On the day of the wedding, Katniss let it slip that Peeta had a surprise cake he’d been working on for you. She was helping you get ready because you'd asked her to be part of the wedding. You would have asked Finnick if he wasn't getting married as well and if he wasn't in hiding. At that point in the revolution, his disappearance was being used as a motivator since Finnick was a loved victor. He was meant to be hidden because he was believed to be dead. 

Katniss was confused at first when you asked her to officiate. She had assumed it would be led by Coin or an appointed official. You explained that it was a tradition that the bride and groom picked the person to officiate the wedding in District 4 to give it a more personal touch and she accepted. But she wished it was Peeta you had asked. She hated making public speeches and you knew that. You also knew that she would be able to deliver something inspiring and that she knew you better than Peeta did. 

You weren't wrong, she delivered a beautiful speech about the star-crossed lovers of Panem. The victor from District 4 and the woman they loved from the Capitol. She mentioned the bravery the pair of you had exhibited and that others could benefit from following the example. She went on to express the importance of this impossible unity love and encouraged the rest of the country to follow you and Wanda into a brighter future. That although the government had painstakingly painted those in the districts to be nothing more than animalistic slaves and declared that those in the Capitol were more deserving of comfortable or extravagant lives, the two of you saw past that false narrative and fought against the mandated division and saw each other as equals. As partners willing to risk their lives for one another. Something that the people in the districts, in the Capitol, and even those working as government officials or Peacekeepers, can find within themselves to see each other as equals as well and not see each other as an enemy or an abomination. That as a country, the people can come together and stop killing for a man that doesn’t care if his citizens live or die. 

Wanda went first in the exchanging of vows, she made everyone in attendance laugh with a couple of jokes about you and the way you charmed your way into her heart. Then she vowed to love and cherish you forever. She vowed to stay committed to only you as long as the both of you shall live. She vowed that she will stand by your side in sickness and in health. Finally, she said, “We came together in a time when we were constantly being kept apart. I am ready to get to know you not as the person you've had to become for others but as the person you are. Give me your bad hair days, your long rants and conspiracies, your burnt waffles, and lost socks. Give me your every day, and I will give you my love to make it all alright. You are my every dream come true, and I can't wait for the reality we get to build together once we are free. You make me laugh, you make me think of a brighter future, and above all, you make me happy. I love you.” 

“Wow,” you gasped as you wiped tears from your face. “Tough act to follow,” you stated, which caused laughter through the guests' tears. You told the story of how the two of you met. How she was barely making a name for herself as a reporter and that you were so intrigued by her that you agreed to sell out the victors you didn't get along with to help her career grow. You stated that you couldn't even apologize because it led to this moment. Your vows reflected hers when it came to the basics. 

You sighed as you looked down at your shoes for a moment. They were Peeta Mellark's. He insisted on a trip back to District 12 to pick up a suit for you and a dress for Wanda. You tried to talk him out of it, you would have hated for Peeta or Katniss to get caught or killed just so that you looked presentable for the wedding. Katniss convinced you to let them do it. Then she explained that Cinna and her prep team left behind the wedding gown options that they thought might win just in case. Wanda joined them and found one she liked and with Katniss’s help in the woods, they found materials to make enough red paint to splatter across the white fabric. It looked like she'd murdered someone. It made her look deadly. You loved it.

“Wanda,” you looked back up at her. “As someone that did their best to remain alone to protect innocent people, you snuck your way into my heart. I feared for a long time what would come of us if anyone found out that we were more than a prostitute and their buyer. But you weren't afraid. You have taught me that two people joined together with respect, trust, and open communication can be far stronger and happier than each could ever be alone. You are the strength I didn't know I needed and the joy that I didn't know I lacked. Today, I choose to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you more fiercely with every second that slips through our hands.” Even though the two of you had exchanged the term of endearment everyday since her arrival, it was still so refreshing and freeing to finally say the words out loud. “My darling, it's with pride and joy that I take you for my wife. Together, we can weather any storm, no matter the season of our lives. I have found my forever partner. With you in my life, I could never be lonely again. I'm in awe of you, our bond, and our potential. I promise to remain in awe while I cherish you for all the rest of our days.” 

The kiss you shared was one of the most magical you'd ever experienced up until that point. The cameras were shut down as you and Wanda made it look as though the two of you left the area. Once the cameras were off, that's when the Odair wedding began. Finnick and Annie asked you to officiate. So you did. You performed the wedding, not as well as Katniss did but your friends were satisfied with it. 

Afterwards, the two were excused to celebrate on their own accord while you and Wanda were expected to continue to put on a show for the cameras. Not that you minded, you were happy to be dancing with her in front of everyone instead of in the refrigerator light in the middle of the night. It was the perfect way to show the citizens of Panem that change was upon them. 

Within the next week you were being sent to the Capitol because Katniss decided to go a bit rogue and send herself into the battle. Gale was already stationed there along with Commander Boggs after a successful mission with District 2, so she had some allies that weren't quick to turn her in. But someone else was and to save face, Coin organized Squad 451, nicknamed the “Star Squad” as she also sent Peeta and the camera crew with you, even Johanna was being sent in. The squad was meant to be recorded, not meant to get caught in any real battle. You laughed as Johanna flipped off Castor and Pollux every time they pointed the camera at her. If this wasn’t war, you would have gaurenteed that merchandise of Johanna and her middle finger would have been the next big thing in the Capitol. 

Katniss was shocked to see you there because of the new marriage but you assured her that this is what Wanda wanted. “She was tortured and nearly gave her life in order to keep this fight going,” you stated as you spun the trident around in your hand to get used to it. “Can't go back until we're free. Those are her orders,” you grinned and leaned forward. “Besides, I kind of promised her a list of heads as souvenirs from this trip,” you winked.

“Better get to work then,” she nodded once before moving away from you to greet Peeta with a hug. She also hit him upside the head which made you chuckle. He apologized for being there but it wasn't up to him. The cameras were around but they weren't focused on them so when they shared a kiss, you couldn't tell if it was for show or for them. But you looked away and your eyes ended up on a somber Gale Hawthorne. He wasn't all bad, he was starting to grow on you as you could tell that he cared the only way he knew how. But he needed to realize that he needed to move on. Then you watched as his gaze began to follow Johanna and you scrunched your features. He couldn't handle her, you knew from experience. 

The mission ran long as the group of you were faking a lot of action to get footage while being safe until it no longer could be sustained. Peacekeepers found the Star Squad and led the group into a trap that cost half of the team. Biggs lost his legs because he stepped on a landmine. He transferred over the Holo to Katniss, a device only those in charge of a squad were given. Among many other features, it could project a holographic map and pinpoint the dangers around. Pods were what they were called because they could consist of any number of dangers. Unfortunately, it couldn't update as fast as the military could install them. 

The rest of the squad fled into the nearest building but one guy, Second Lieutenant Mitchell, got caught in a deadly net contraption that sliced him into pieces. Twin sisters that went by Leeg 1 and Leeg 2 got left behind because one of them  needed medical assistance and the rest of the unit needed to get out of there. Katniss claimed that she was sent there to kill Snow and although most - if not all - of the squad knew it was a lie, the unit backed her up against Lieutenant Jackson who tried to take over as the commanding officer after Boggs died. A call was made on the Leegs behalf to the rebels base and Homes volunteered to stay with them. 

When the remaining squad members were safe inside of a home that had been cleared out is when you find out that you were dead. That all of you were dead. A mandatory broadcast showed what you knew were the Leeg sisters and Homes firing at Peacekeepers out of the building you guys had to leave them in. The building was blown up by the Peacekeepers and your face was the first one to appear on the screen along with the sound of a cannon and the music that would play for fallen tributes in the Hunger Games. You’d have clapped at their theatrics if it wasn't inappropriate. 

President Snow appeared on the screen as he began to drone on and on about a cease fire. But he is interrupted by President Coin giving an almost convincing eulogy for Katniss. You turned your attention towards her as it went on and she rolled her eyes. The Mockingjay was dead. “Congrats,” you said as you nudged her shoulder. She shook her head which made you laugh as you finished the can of tuna you had raided from the cabinets. It reminded you of home. 

From there, more people were lost as the squad tried to move through the Capitol underground in order to get to Snow's mansion. The streets were flooded with pods, it was impossible to move through them and the rooftops were too risky. Underground tunnels were the only solution. Pollux was the one to lead the unit through because he used to work there when he was an Avox. Katniss stood close to him, scanning the area with the Holo for extra precaution. 

No one was prepared for the rush of events that took place all at once. Blood thirsty mutts flooded the tunnel system. It cost the life of Homes, Jackson, and Gale. He was the last one to go. Katniss had to drop the Holo on top of him as he was being eaten alive. “Nightlock, nightlock, nightlock,” she said to activate the self-destructive feature of the device. It blew up and the unit still had to run. You were cut up all over because those mutts had sharp nails. 

As soon as you guys were out of the tunnels Peacekeepers were waiting and ready. Firing at the squad on sight. Katniss used her explosive arrows while you used the handgun you were given in case you lost your trident, which you did during the mutt fight, while the rest of the squad used their machine guns. 

As the unit ran for their lives, deadly light beams shot out at random taking Messalla, Cressida’s assistant. It turned him into dust. At the example of the danger, everyone avoided the light. Once the team crossed over a short barrier, the floor began to disappear as it was being eaten away by spikes. Everyone made it past that into the safer area of what looked like a parking garage. 

“I know where we can hide,” Cressida announced as soon as she recognized her surroundings. Everyone followed her to a store and inside a woman that resembled an exotic animal let the team hide in her basement. 

Castor and Pollux patched you up to keep you from bleeding out. You had a lot of wounds that required both of them. Katniss sat in a corner with a lost look in her eyes. She'd lost Gale and so many other people because of a lie. So many lives have been lost because of her lies. Peeta sat beside her to try and comfort her. She allowed it until you started to scream because of the crappy job that Castor and Pollux were doing at fixing you up. They were much better filmmakers and soldiers than they were medics. 

Katniss got up and came over to help them. “This is all my fault,” she whispered with tears in her eyes as she looked over your irritated wounds. “I'm so sorry,” she looked around the room. Cressida was gathering supplies from Tigris for everyone. Johanna was undressing to assess the damages done to her body. Castor and Pollux were exhausted. Peeta was also injured but he hid his injuries to protect Katniss. 

“I lied,” she said. “Coin, she didn't send me I,” she looked down at you, covered in mostly your own blood. “I came on my own. I thought I could… Gale,” she stared at you, she was lost in grief and guilt. Peeta limped over to her. 

“Katniss,” he sighed before he gave a speech about the lives in the arena that had been taken because no one had ownership of their lives. That the lives taken in this war were given by choice. Then he helped her patch you up. You were grateful to be alive after all of that. But this war still needed to end. Snow still had to die. 

And he did. 

What was left of the Star Squad stormed Snow’s mansion and killed anyone that got in their way. Snow was sitting smugly in his office chair when the unit burst through the doors. Katniss shot an electric arrow through his eye and Johanna chopped his head off for good measure. Castor and Pollux live streamed the entire ordeal. 

“People of Panem,” Katniss said to the cameras. “We are free!” 

The entire country celebrated as those left in power surrendered. 

When things settled down, Coin asked the remaining victors to vote on the possibility of hosting a symbolic Hunger Games after she appointed herself as interim president. No one knew who slipped a nightlock pill in her tea. But no one accused or questioned anyone. Most people assumed it was Katniss and those present for the meeting assumed it was you. Neither of you confirmed nor denied the rumors. 

Katniss and Peeta returned to District 12 while her mom and sister stayed in the Capitol to get better acquainted with the vast medical knowledge in order to help train others to make healthcare affordable and accessible across the nation. 

After a lot of debate, you and Wanda moved into your house in District 4. Your argument was that you had an entire mansion that you didn’t have to pay anything on and she rented a townhome. She liked her house and her life in the Capitol but none of it mattered at the end of the day. Life there was never going to be the same. So she agreed. District 4 was her home. After the hidden survaliance devices were removed from the mansion, of course. 

The two of you got to know each other in ways you never could before. You found out what a slob she could be. Wanda would forget to throw dirty clothing into the hamper. Then she'd wear all of her clothes until she ran out. You would point to the overflowing hamper when When she was done using a dish, it would sit in the sink instead of rinsing it off and putting it in the dishwasher. She was used to having a servant to take care of little things like that. Wanda found out that you were a terrible cook and that you have terrible self care habits. The two of you figured out ways to balance each other out. 

At the beginning, you and Wanda spent a lot of time together. Basking in the honeymoon phase as long as possible. But eventually, reality caught up and the both of you realized that there was still so much work to be done in terms of rebuilding the country. As much as you felt that you shouldn’t have to do more, you were still in a better position than most. So, you and Wanda figured out a way to be involved in the process of helping those who needed it most in the New Panem and opened a rehabilitation center in District 4. 

It started with a way to employ those who needed work. If you couldn’t find them a job in District 4, you or Wanda would reach out to other districts and help them and their family relocate. After several years, it grew to so much more. Now, it’s became a center that helps those with addictions, therapy to process trauma, a safe haven for those sold into marriages that they didn’t want to be in anymore, a space for those who struggled with life before and after the war. Even though you could have easily decided to coast by in life with the money you still receive and will continue to receive from winning the Hunger Games, it didn’t feel right when so many people that barely had anything to begin with, were left with absolutely nothing. 

Her brother, Pietro, decided to stay in District 12. In his time before the war, Pietro met a woman that he fell deeply in love with. Much like you and Wanda, they couldn’t be together in the way that they wanted because it could have gotten them killed. She had broken things off with Pietro just before the bombing to protect him because one of the other Peacekeepers had threatened to expose them if she hadn’t. It wasn’t until well after the war was over that she was able to find and recconnect with Pietro. 

“You Maximoffs are suckers for us simple district folk,” you joked quietly to Wanda while the two of you sat in the audience of his wedding. It was held in District 12 with the local traditions of the district. 

“Shut up,” she said as she hid her amusement and carefully dabbed her tears away with your handkerchief. She was so touched by the ceremony. She still couldn’t believe that any of it was possible. She looked at you as she reminisced about the day the two of you made history by getting married. You put your arm around her shoulder and she snuggled against you as the ceremony continued.  

While the two of you danced at the reception a little girl crashed into your legs. “Uh oh,” you said softly as you helped her up. She was afraid at first but then she smiled as she apologized. “I’m Y/n, and your name is?” You asked politely. 

“Willow,” she responded quietly and you grinned as you recognized her from the photos you have of her. Katniss sent them to you because up until now, you hadn’t been able to make a trip out to District 12. Not since a couple weeks after she was born.  

“Well, Willow, I happen to be a good friend of your Mommy and Daddy. I haven’t seen you since you were a baby,” you said as you offered her your hand. “Let’s go find them, shall we?” Willow nodded as she took your hand. Wanda watched with a deep sadness as you interacted so happily with the little girl. It was hard enough to see you around Finnick and Annie’s children. When you returned to her, she knew what you were going to ask of her and she couldn’t give that to you. She knows that she should have told you years ago, but she hoped that there would be an advanced treatment that could reverse the damage. She developed a relationship with Primrose Everdeen because she was the one who had to give Wanda the news in District 13. 

Fortunately for Wanda, you didn’t bring up the subject until the two of you were alone in the hotel room. “Willow is a cute kid, isn’t she?” You asked as you climbed into bed next to Wanda. Your wife hummed as she went over the files she brought with her. “River and Marina are pretty cool too,” you put your hand on her abdomen and she took a deep breath as she braced herself. 

“I think we should have kids.”

“I can’t have kids.” The two of you talk at the same time. 

“What?” You remove your hand as you sit up. Shocked by the reveal. 

Wanda swallowed the lump forming in her throat and she set the file on the bedside table. “I was pregnant when the Peacekeepers took me. I uh… They um,” she couldn’t stop the tears from falling as her heart broke again from reliving the horrible memories. You didn’t let her finish, you just held her tightly as your heart broke from the news as well. You had no idea that this was something she went through. Amongst the list of horrible things that happened to her when she was captured, this wasn’t something you anticipated. “I’m sorry,” she eventually said. 

“It’s not your fault,” you kissed her on the forehead and decided then that you didn’t need kids. Wanda was all you would ever need. 

That rang true. As the years went on, you and Wanda were there for nephews and nieces. The work the two of you built together was very time consuming, it left room for very little and the two of you were more than willing to make that sacrifice. Together, you might not have been able to bring a life into the world but you managed to change so many lives that it didn’t matter. The two of you lived happily together until the day you died of old age in each others arms. A gift that was once a rarity in the country of Panem. The life that you and Wanda led together wouldn’t have happened had there not been the hope of a free world. Though significant sacrifices were made, you wouldn’t have changed a single thing. 

Or would you have?

The Mentor

Taglist: @princessprudy @sayah13 @agaymilflover @awkwardmandalorian @bentleywolf29 @thatshyboy1998 @artisannat @thisischaismagic @wqndanat @madamevirgo @likefirenrain @tearsofglitter @feltlikethat @the-writer-arcane @natashasilverfox @karsonromanoff @aloneodi @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @jovialsublimecomputer @natasha-maximoff @iliketozoneout @doudouneverte @druggedduck @notbornbutforged @when-wolves-howl @lifespectator @justyourwritter69 @wandaromamoff69 @awesomelygayasf @nekoannie-chan @diaryoflife @wuwu96 @wandanats-goodgirl @sincerely-indi @blueredg52 @sisiofthemultifandom @fuzzyuniversityeclipsefriend @arcturusseer @scarlettwidow34 @chasethemoon @raven-ss @canyonyodeler @sokovianbaby @alexawynters @bittysworld @hopeless-romantic17177 @spongebobtentacles @the-ox-fan20

[franki-lew-yo]

James and the Giant Peach is still (mostly) for young children

Despite a single pre-metoo joke and it's uncanny-ish artstyle that's a serious make-or-break-you factor on if you like it, James and the Giant Peach is aggressively a movie for young children. I personally like it as I never find it a patronizing sit for little kids, like Don Bluth's movies from the 90s so often were, but that really is what I think alienates people; the intended audience may be a bit too scared of the visuals (NOT like how they are with TNBC, which kids go in expecting to be scary) where the adult audience who is here for the 'creepy stop-motion' feel like the movie is lacking for not being Nightmare or Coraline, which is unfair. It absolutely scared me as a little little kid but upon finally facing it at, like ten or whenever it was on Cartoon Network's movie show, I realized there was nothing to fear. And that, in turn, was exhilarating. It's such good symmetry that the film is about facing your fears and standing up for yourself because that's exactly what my relationship with it was. It's such a comfort film for me. My og Bluey. JatGP, Courage the Cowardly Dog, Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh, Ernest and Celestine = perfect comfort after I watch something serious and/or disturbing.

Half my reason for trying to pied-piper everyone else towards it as it's own merit is I think James and the Giant Peach would hit hard for lovers of weirdcore and dreamcore ala Jack Stauber or @samsketchbook's 'Welcome to Our Dimensional Party'.

That "looks unsettling/potentially disturbing but actually cute or gentle" vibe pairs perfectly with dreamcore aesthetic. We're coming up on it's 30 year anniversary I hope to see a genuine resurgence. If I had it my way and I was Dan Olson I'd make an hour-long look at the movie, the original book and Henry Selick's filmography as a surrealist the way Dan made an hour-lookback at Bakshi's Lord of the Rings. But I'm not. Cause I'm not Dan Olson and I can't build up the nerve to either show my face or figure out how to make videos in two years.

But anyway, about the title of this post (content warning: downer nsfl stuff; mentioning of real life child ab*se cases):

James' life with his aunts hits VERY different when you're an adult and you've watched too much true crime.

It's not intentional on the part of Dahl or Henry Selick. Selick had Mariam and Joanna ham up the screen and they clearly loved every minute of it and Dahl I think was just trying to tell an 'authentic' type fairytale story where the main character has to escape their evil family. Point being- Spiker and Sponge are supposed to be 'evil for the sake of evil' villains who could only exist as hammy caricatures in an already weird story. They aren't supposed to be like the parents in Matilda or the Twits who I'd argue are a little more 'realistic' depiction of awful people...except for the fact that legal guardians like Spiker and Sponge DO actually exist.

There's a heavy implication in the film that no one else in their county even knows James lives with Spiker and Sponge (literally the only people around to recognize James' existence are the bugs when they first meet him!). His aunts seem to make James work out of frustration for having to take him in, like he's a burden and they're making him pay for being one by being their slave. They actively don't feed him except for rotting fish and then shame him for not eating it. The Lane Smith picture book implies that James' parents weren't killed by a rhino but rather it's Spiker and Sponge who put that idea in James' head and use it to control him. And all that BEFORE the beatings which you know are happening off screen.

After the horrifying cases of Ruby Franke, Sylvia Likens and the Turpins, the "every child deserves a parent but not every parent deserves children" reality of it all makes you realize that James probably would have died if he lived with his aunts. Considering how they flip out on him in New York- that boy REALLY needed to escape, giant peach or no.

This is absolutely another reason for why JatGP is a comfort movie for grownups. You have this horrific childhood rescued by loving in-human parents who will kill everyone in the room and then themselves if you touch their human boy. It's like Opal but if Claire found a happier family. Of bugs. None of that was intentional, ftr, but it's what sticks out to me.

[morallyinept]

Devoutness - Mature!Marcus Moreno x Mature 60+ F!Reader

Written as part of my B O D I E S Series 🤎

BODIES MASTERLIST

This story is part of my Heyday Hero universe. <- You might want to read that story first for context. But you can read this as a stand alone if you wish.

Summary: Marcus and you embrace the challenges of growing old together and enjoying intimacy.

Pairing: Mature!Marcus Moreno x Mature 60+ F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader in terms of ethnicity, Reader does have hair, however. Reader and Marcus are both in their mid-sixties, I've made Marcus 64 in this, and have real bodies with aging and Reader is on the curvier side.)

Word Count: 7.5k

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I'm doing well, and then, you try to kill me."

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Triggers & warnings: Reader & Marcus are much older and have real bodies reflective of their age/use of Viagra & sex aids/erectile dysfunction/unprotected PIV (wrap up folks!)/oral M receiving/mild dirty talk/Marcus has superpower hands ⚡️/lots of kissing/schmaltzy romance/Marcus doesn't fuck, he makes love.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: It's important to me that all types of readers are represented in my work, therefore this collection of stories is written for readers with REAL bodies. However, anyone can enjoy them. Whilst this story may not specifically represent your own personal journey, it is my hope that it resonates and offers comfort and enjoyment. This story is specifically about aging and growing old. If it upsets you to read about mature lovemaking, then I don't what to say - you'll be this age yourself one day... Everyone's journey is personal and unique, and I have undertaken as much research as I can to write accurately and respectfully. 🤎

MAIN MASTERLIST | MARCUS MORENO MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

“Are you ready, kiddo?” Marcus asks.

“No,” Missy gulps. 

“You’re not nervous, are you?” 

“Were you nervous?”

“Yes.”

“Both times?”

“Yes.” Marcus nods. 

“Jeez.”

“Just breathe-”

“I am breathing. I-I think I’m breathing too much!” She squeaks.

He watches as Missy wrings at her hands that are visibly shaking. He’s never seen her so amped up and antsy before, and he decides instantly that he doesn’t like it. 

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” Marcus places his own hands deftly on her shoulders and rubs his thumbs into the bones gently. “You’ve got this.” 

"Dad, I'm so fucking nervous. What if I trip walking down the aisle?"

Marcus frowns with a soft smile. “I won’t let you and your potty mouth trip.”

“What if I forget my vows? Oh God, shit! I can’t remember them!”

"Hey now. Remember the time when you faced the Void Fiend head-on?”

“What does that have to do with-”

“You were brave, strong, and fearless. This? Walking down the aisle to marry the man you love? It's a breeze compared to that."

The Void Fiend was a creature of pure darkness, with tendrils of shadow that twisted and writhed like living smoke. Its eyes glowed with an otherworldly intensity, casting an eerie light that seemed to pierce through the very fabric of reality. And it had temporarily cast Missy into another dimension, until she battled her way out and ended the Void Fiend’s existence with her tenacity and strength. Something she’d inherited from her now retired, ex-Heroic father. 

“I’m missing the Void Fiend right about now…”

“Tranquila, estás exagerando. Tú puedes hacerlo." (Calm down, you’re exaggerating. You’ve got this.)

“I don’t know how you did this twice.” She sighs as she paces, placing her hand over the boned satin corset covering her stomach. “God, I feel sick.”

“Well, I didn’t really have a choice.” Marcus says, timidly. He takes off his glasses, rubbing at his temple.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“I know.” He reassures, and it stops them both in their tracks like a blow to the gut. 

A moment of silence passes between them, filled with unspoken thoughts. Missy’s eyes soften as she looks at her father.

“Look at this, you’ve always been useless at ties,” Missy smirks, fussing with the silk slate knot at her father’s throat. 

“Fingers are too big for something so slippery,” he snorts, casually. 

“That’s what she said.” Missy grins.

“Behave.” Marcus sighs, rolling his eyes. 

“There,” she says, as she tweaks and neatens the tie into place. She pats down the soft lapels of his dark navy suit and steps back to look at him. “I love seeing you so happy.”

Marcus smiles. “I love being so happy. For a while I didn’t think I ever would be again...”

His thoughts immediately drift to you and it makes the blood in his veins sing. Each thought of you ignites a warmth within him, spreading from his chest and radiating outward, as if you're the very sun that has lit his internal world.

“Do you think Mom would be proud of me?”

His expression becomes tender, a deep sadness mingling with his love. “She would be more than proud. She’d be over the moon. You’ve become everything she ever hoped for and more.”

Tears well up in her eyes, and she takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “I wish she could be here today. And abuela…” (Grandma) 

He nods, his own eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “They both are. They’re right in there.” He points to his daughter’s heart.

“Dad! I can’t cry, my mascara will run. Shit!” She fans her face quickly. “You promise you won’t let me fall on my face in these ridiculous heels?”

“They are pretty ridiculous.” Marcus smirks, clocking the sky high heels that his daughter totters around uncomfortably in. “But I take my job very seriously. You’ll remain fully upright. Until you say I do, then you’re Sam’s problem.” He chuckles. 

Missy takes a deep breath after giggling, and gathers her bouquet. It’s a stunning arrangement of flowers, each one grown and hand picked from Marcus's cherished garden, adding a deeply personal touch to her special day. Full of sweet smelling blush peonies, white roses and anemones, wrapped with eucalyptus leaves.

“Okay. I can do this.” Missy says aloud. 

He nods, his eyes filled with pride. "Of course you can. You've faced far greater challenges than this, and you've always come out on top. You’re a Moreno. Just remember to take it one step at a time so you don’t break your ankles-”

“Dad.”

“-and focus on the love in your heart. Everything else will fall into place." He simply shrugs. 

“It really will, won’t it?” Missy concludes, looking at him and how intensely happy he is. It just radiates off of him like a solar flare bursting from the sun.

“Sam’s a lucky man.” Marcus says proudly. 

She steps closer to her father, and they embrace, holding each other tightly. The bond between them, forged in love and shared loss, feels stronger than ever.

“Thank you for always being there for me. For being both a father and a mother when I needed it most. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Marcus wraps her in a warm embrace, his arms a safe haven amidst the whirlwind of emotions that try to rattle her.

"You'll always have me, muñeca. Now go out there and show that fiancé of yours just how beautiful you look." (Doll)

“You scrub up pretty well yourself, you silver fox.”

“Stop it.” Marcus blushes unabashedly whilst he straightens his cuffs as Missy wolf-whistles at him. 

His suit jacket is impeccably cut, with sharp, clean lines that accentuate his frame. A neatly folded pocket square, matching the silvery tone of his tie, adorns his breast pocket, its presence a small but significant nod to tradition and style. His cufflinks, sleek and elegant, catch the light with a gentle gleam, completing the sophisticated look.

His suit, complete with waistcoat and a white rose boutonniere, compliments the mercury that’s over taken his once dark, cocoa hair and facial scruff, both now trimmed neatly and styled for the wedding.

His eyes, a deep, soulful brown, still hold a spark of the formidable spirit that once defined him, shrouded often behind his thick, black-rimmed spectacles, that are a trademark feature. They reflect both wisdom and a hint of the mischief that lingers from his younger days. The crow's feet at the corners of his eyes deepen as he smiles, adding to his rugged charm. His body, though no longer in its prime, remains strong and capable, despite his advancing years.

The suit he wears fits him perfectly, tailored to accommodate the changes that time has wrought. His shoulders, still broad and solid, hint at the strength that lies beneath the fine fabric. His waist, though a bit softer around the middle, speaks of a man who has remained active and engaged with the world around him, despite slowing down in his retirement.

His hands, once steady and unyielding in the face of danger, now show the signs of age with slightly knobbled knuckles and veins that stand out against his papery skin.

Sixty-four has never looked so good on Marcus Moreno.

But at this age he feels the weight of time in his bones and muscles, a constant reminder of the years that have passed. Mornings are sometimes the hardest. As he rises from bed with you, his joints protest with a familiar stiffness. His knees, especially, ache with a dull persistence, a result of decades of wear and tear from heroic escapades.

He moves more slowly now, careful with each step, aware that a wrong move could lead to a fall. Yet, despite these physical reminders of aging, he carries himself with a quiet dignity. Marcus has grown accustomed to the small rituals of maintenances that aging requires: daily medications, regular doctors visits, the strength of exercise and stretches to keep his body as agile as possible.

And he's aging gracefully with you right by his side, watching the season's change and embracing them with a smile and contentment. There's a certain peace in accepting the changes brought by age. Appreciating a slower pace.

Life has a different rhythm now, one that allows for gratitude and reflection. He cherishes the stillness of the early morning, sipping coffee with his arm around you and taking in the scents of his garden. More moments to stop and smell the flowers.

He has more time to appreciate the small things. He's not merely growing older; he's becoming more himself with each passing day.

“I mean it, your lovely wife will need to watch her back. Those bridesmaids of mine are feral.”

“Cripes.” Marcus shudders, already feeling himself sweat at the horrid thought. “Let’s make a deal. I’ll keep you upright if you keep those hormonal women away from me.”

Missy giggles. “I can’t promise anything, Dad. One of them has the power of influence. You might be cast under her spell.”

“Please tell me you’re joking.” He groans.

Missy simply taps her nose and grins. With a newfound sense of confidence, she takes a deep breath and grips onto her father’s arm as he offers it out to her.

Marcus smiles down at her from behind his polished spectacles and slicked back hair, and beams brightly. 

“Come on, let’s get you married. You’re such a pain in my ass. Can’t wait to be rid of you.” He says.

“Nope. You’re stuck with me forever. That's the deal. You made me.”

“I should have worn a condom.” Marcus grins. 

“You’re such an ass.” Missy snorts ungracefully, choking on her giggles. 

Sitting in the front row of the aisle lined with garlands of fresh flowers, you stand and watch as Marcus emerges with Missy on his arm, in a modest ivory dress, to a solo violinist’s rendition of All Of Me. 

You clock Marcus’s face and he seems completely entranced and proud as he walks Missy down the aisle to her future husband Sam, who’s waiting and wiping discreetly at his eyes. 

You smile fondly at his reaction, remembering Marcus looking at you just like that on your wedding day to him. It was an intimate and heartfelt affair, celebrated in the same garden where he lovingly tended to the flowers, now featured in his daughter’s wedding bouquet. A place that you had grown to love just as much as him.

The setting was a testament to his life's quieter, nurturing side, a stark contrast to his years of heroic exploits, and you were only too inclined to agree at the lowkey subtlety. It was a place that was special to you both and you both spent a lot of time together basking in the Texan sun, as well as your love.

The retired superhero had stood at the heart-shaped trellis threaded with lilac roses and violet ranunculi - a nod to the purple heart emoji from your early days of flirting and getting to know one another on the dating app - his heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and excitement, and looking at you like you were the only thing that kept his word spinning on its axis. 

Marcus has spent years, decades, alone after losing his first wife shortly after Missy was born. A woman who had been his partner in every sense of the word. Her passing had left a void that seemed impossible to fill, a grief that lingered in the corners of his heart and a guilt that overpowered him when he thought about moving on.

Throwing himself into work and saving the world on the regular, between bringing up a headstrong and smart younger version of him, consumed him. and it was only when retirement beckoned did he realise he didn't want to spend the remainder of his life alone.

So then there was you. You were different and brought a familiarity that felt like home. You'd connected over shared experiences, laughter, your mutual love of flowers and home cooked food, and a heightened passion that sizzled between you both.

Your laughter was like a soothing balm to his weary soul and your kindness, understanding, and your acceptance of his late wife and the love he would always have for her, slowly began to heal the wounds that time had only partially mended.

Your relationship had grown slowly, rooted in deep conversations, mutual respect and compassion. You'd walked Marcus's garden many times, traversing the flower beds, conversing about the different species and plant types. Cuddled up by the pool at golden sunsets, kissing deeply in the loungers, and sharing twilight dinners and wine.

It was in his garden, that you both realised you could love again. And it was where he had proposed to you too. He'd had your ring custom made, a floral stone shape, cut with stunning teal diamonds.

You’d walked towards him on that special day wearing blue - a colour that you both loved on you - radiant and beautiful, every step bringing you closer to your new life shared together. You remember the way Marcus had looked at you as you exchanged vows, his eyes filled with unwavering trust and devotion. Tears making them glisten under his spectacles.

The ceremony had been simple yet profound, promises made in front of a handful of those closest to you, both not seeking an extravagant affair or party into the wild hours. Instead a small gathering and a lovely home cooked meal, which you and Marcus had lovingly prepared together for your family, after you both promised to stand by each other through all of life's challenges.

And as Missy and Sam prepare to exchange similar vows now, Marcus joins you by your side on the pew, his hand slipping into yours where it belongs, and you hand him a tissue.

“Thanks,” he whispers, smiling crookedly and blushing as he dabs at his eyes under his specs once more. “I'm a mess.” He sniffs.

He feels a tear slip down his weathered cheek, not from sadness but from the deep, abiding joy of witnessing his daughter's happiness. 

“She looks so beautiful.” You compliment, filled with adoration for her as if Missy were your own flesh and blood.

She’s become the closest thing to a daughter to you, your relationship with her deepened and special. Sharing girl-dates together on the regular, shopping and having lunch when she’s not saving the world. Teaming up and teasing Marcus to no end until you’re all in a fit of giggles.

You’re so proud of the young woman Marcus has raised.

“She does.” Marcus whispers. 

He turns his head and your eyes find his, big and watery and filled deep with sincerity. “You look absolutely beautiful, mi dulzura.” (My sweetness)

You gently squeeze his hand, feeling warm and more loved than you ever thought possible, as he places a gentle and lingering kiss on top of your head. 

The grand garden is alight with fairy lights underneath a gloaming sky.

The hazy orange glow that emits from the twinkles hovering delicately above this enchanted place leaves you with a sense of warm contentment, despite the gentle nip of the cool breeze as the evening wears on.

It’s an idyllic wonderland, draped in satin and ivy. Over the course of three days it had been transformed into an empyrean view fit for a king himself, and Marcus spared no expense in giving Missy everything she wanted for her big day. 

A vast lawn covered with bunting and a large white gazebo in the grounds of the Edwardian Manor House. Tables lined with crystal glasses, enormous plumes of roses that matched her bouquet.

Marcus was never an extravagant man, always mindful of living a modest life, but he wanted to make this a day Missy and Sam would never forget. His generosity, and smart investment skills over the years, is another trait of his that you love so much. 

The tinkling sounds of music flows through the crowd, like an invisible ribbon wrapping itself around all the guests that litter this decadent soiree. The threads of Heroic connections between them are visible, retired and current heroes in attendance; their radiance, euphoria and harmonies hum through your ears as Marcus twirls you around on the dancefloor.

The atmosphere is a blend of celebration and reverence. There's a sense of continuity, of old and new merging seamlessly. Marcus’s past as a Heroic adds an undercurrent of awe and admiration among the guests, but tonight, he’s celebrated for his role as a loving father and husband. 

The world around you seems to fade, leaving just the two of you bathed in the soft, golden glow of the twinkling lights. The band is in the middle of a slow, melodic tune, the kind that speaks of timeless romance and unspoken promises.

Marcus takes your hand with a gentle, yet confident grip, his fingers intertwining with yours as if they were always meant to fit together. You feel the familiar, crackly buzzing from his fingertips, reverberating deep into your skin and down your arm, igniting you, and he winks at you knowingly. 

He leads with a grace that hints at his once superhuman agility, his steps sure and deliberate. As you waltz across the floor, your eyes lock, a silent exchange that speaks volumes. Your eyes sparkle with a mixture of joy and affection, while his reflects a depth of gratitude and love that words can never fully capture.

You both share a secret smile, the kind that only two people deeply in love can understand, and it feels as if you’re the only ones in the world.

A palpable chemistry fizzes between you, helped by the static in his fingers that he teases you with, a testament to the deep bond and joy you bring each other. The music swells, a building crescendo, his hand gently guiding yours. At one point, he twirls you gently, your dress fanning out fully, and as you return to his embrace, you both chuckle, your foreheads touching for a brief, tender moment.

There's a playfulness in your dance, a sense of rediscovered youth, as if the years between you have melted away, leaving only the pure essence of your connection.

“Have you always been this smooth a dancer?” You query as he sways with you.

“I might know how to cut a rug.” Marcus smirks. 

“I’m still discovering all these wonderful secret talents about you, Mr Moreno.”

“Well, I like to keep you on your toes, Mrs Moreno.” He smirks with rosy cheeks.

As the song progresses, you pull each other closer, moving as one entity, lost in each other’s eyes. His hand rests on the small of your back, guiding you effortlessly, while your hand caresses his broad shoulder.

"You make me feel young again," he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You make me feel safe," you reply with a smile. He loves the way your eyes crinkle when you do. “And so loved.”

“That’s because you are, mi dulzura.” He presses a kiss to your temple. (My sweetness)

"Look at her," you say softly, glancing toward Missy, who is radiant in her wedding dress, and laughing with others at a table. "She's so happy."

His eyes follow yours, and he nods, a proud smile spreading across his face.

"She deserves all the happiness in the world. She's incredible, just like her mother was..." He trails off and his eyes become a little deeper.

"She's incredible, just like her father is," you add gently, squeezing his shoulder.

He chuckles, shaking his head. "I don't know about that. I always tried my best. But I'm so proud of her. She's taken on so much, and she handles it all with such grace."

"She has a great role model," your voice is filled with warmth and admiration."You should dance with her," you suggest with soft encouragement.

Marcus hesitates for a moment, glancing at his daughter, who is laughing joyously with her new husband and their friends.

"Do you think she'd want that? It's her big day."

"Of course she would," you reply, your fingers brushing his cheek tenderly. "She loves you so much. This is a special moment for both of you."

He looks into your eyes, seeing the sincerity and love reflected there. "You're right," he says, his voice a little shaky with emotion. "I just... I don't want to intrude."

"You could never intrude. Go to her," you urge with a warm smile. "I'll be right here, cheering you both on."

Marcus takes a deep breath, then leans in to kiss you gently. "Thank you. For everything. You’re incredible."

"You're pretty incredible yourself." You smile back, your eyes shining. "Go on. Make this moment unforgettable."

He releases your hand reluctantly and makes his way across the dancefloor, each step filled with a mix of pride and nervous anticipation.

As Marcus approaches his daughter, she looks up, her eyes lighting up when she sees him.

"Dad," Missy says, her voice filling with delight. "Come dance with me!"

He nods, his heart swelling. "I'd be honoured."

The band begins to play another soft, melodic tune that echoes through the sumptuous garden.

“You took your shoes off,” Marcus chuckles, noticing her bare toes peeking out under the satin hem of her dress.

“I did. Let us never speak of those evil things again.”

“You know, I used to dance with you when you were little.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. You’d stand on my feet and let me move you about. You said you were no good at dancing and would pout. It was so cute.”

“And I stand by that fact.” Missy announces. 

“Nonsense.” He smiles. 

“And I’m always cute, for the record.” She grins. “Can I stand on your feet now?”

“Go for it.” He smiles.

She steps onto his polished shoes and he holds her close in his arms as he moves, his chin resting on her head and smiles. 

"You look so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks, Dad," she replies, her eyes misting. "I'm so glad you're here with me. I know Mom would be," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the music.

"I am too," he replies, his grip on her tightening slightly. "I see so much of her in you. She would be so proud of the woman you've become."

She nods, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I hope so."

“I know so, muñeca.” (Doll)

“But you’ve got a wonderful woman who loves you just as much. Maybe even more.” Missy says to him. 

“I do,” he smiles over at you and you beam. You’re recording them dancing together on your phone, something for him to keep forever. 

“I’m still pissed that you found your one on a dating app you didn’t want to join for so long…” Missy snorts. 

“And after only one date too. What is it the kids say now, I’m winning at life?” He chuckles. 

“Yeah. You are. You smug bastard.”

“Easy now,” Marcus remarks with a thick smirk.

As the song draws to a close, Marcus pulls her into a warm embrace, holding her tightly. "I love you. Always."

"I love you too, Dad," she whispers back, her voice full of emotion.

They part with a final smile, and he steps back to let her return to her husband. As he makes his way back to you, you’re waiting for him with open arms.

"How was it?" You ask, pulling him into a hug.

“Perfect. Thank you for encouraging me.” Marcus beams.

"Anytime," you say, kissing him softly.

“Come on, dance with me some more, Mrs Moreno.” He says, pulling you gently towards the dancefloor again. 

Later that evening, after calling it quits on the late night as it shows no sign of dying down, you and Marcus ascend the grand staircase in the Manor House, a structure with an old-world charm blended with modern comforts.

The lobby is adorned with elegant chandeliers and plush seating, exuding a sense of timeless sophistication. Still glowing from the day's festivities, you make your way to your suite, hand in hand and talking softly with smiles and giggly laughter.

As you open the door to your room, you’re greeted by an inviting, romantic ambiance. The room is spacious yet cosy, with a large queen four poster, draped in crisp white linens and silky drapes. A pair of plush armchairs sit by the window, offering a breathtaking view of the city lights twinkling in the night.

A bottle of champagne chills in a silver bucket, accompanied by two flutes and a tray of gourmet chocolates.

You look around in awe, taking in the thoughtful details. "This is perfect," you murmur, your voice filled with contentment.

“Should be, we’ve paid for it,” Marcus chuckles, loosening his tie. 

You smile, stepping further into the room and slipping off your heels. "It's beautiful. Just like tonight."

You move to the window, admiring the view over Austin in the distance for a moment, before you feel him wrapping his arms around you from behind, pulling you in close. You lean into his embrace, feeling the warmth and strength that has always been so comforting.

Despite the buzz of the day, your bodies remind you both of the years you've lived. His back aches slightly from standing and dancing for so long, a dull reminder of his age and the years of unrelenting vigour from his past Heroic life. Your feet are sore, throbbing from your heels, and you feel a familiar stiffness in your joints.

“This night couldn’t be any more perfect,” you sigh dreamily, enjoying the way Marcus is planting delicate kisses against your neck and murmuring in agreement.  

“I may have had a thought on topping it.”

“Oh really? Do tell, Mr Moreno…” You prompt, smiling.

He turns you to face him and kisses you deeply, humming in satisfaction as his tongue massages against yours. Gentle and explorative, and leaves you utterly wanting.

“Thought that I would make love to my beautiful wife.” Marcus kisses over your knuckles one by one, planting a longer kiss over your wedding band. 

“I’ve been thinking about that all night.”

“You have?” He smiles.

“Mm-hm, it’s the suit.” You smile, running your hands down his lapels. “You look so handsome and sexy.”

He blushes and it’s still the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, watching his prominent tan nose and the tips of his ears turn a little pink. 

“You want to?” He asks and you nod. “Good, I came prepared.”

“I would expect no less from Mr Organised.” 

Grinning, he then steps away from you and rummages in the overnight bag that has already been brought up to the room by the concierge. 

You watch as he pulls out a small box and pops a little blue pill into his palm. He winks at you from behind his specs as he swallows it, and you reach for him. Your lips reconnect as you kiss him deep. 

The warmth of his lips running against yours, the familiar scent of him, and the deep, unwavering love in his eyes, combine to create a sensation that’s almost overwhelming and makes you dizzy with desire.

Your knees feel slightly weak, and you cling to him a little tighter, grounding yourself in his steady embrace. The giddy sensation is both disorienting and beautiful, a physical manifestation of the profound connection you share and the intensity of the moment.

When you finally part, he leads you to the small table where the champagne awaits. He pops the cork with a practised ease, pouring you each a glass.

"To how incredibly beautiful you look," Marcus toasts, raising his flute.

You smile, feeling your own face heat, clinking your glass against his.

You sip the champagne, savouring the bubbles and the moment. But he can’t resist much longer, waiting for the pill to work its magic, and neither can you as he pulls you into his arms once more.

The skin of his hands is marked by age spots and the veins more prominent, but his touch is as tender as ever. You feel the pleasant buzz from them sinking into your skin and travelling through your nerves. It makes you shudder, your nipples rousing awake as he glides his fingers down your arms.

"I can't believe how lucky I am," Marcus whispers, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back where your dress reveals a slink of skin. It's softer there now, a bit looser, but still so familiar and comforting.

"We both are." You agree. 

You both murmur and hum into more shared kisses, each one lasting a little longer and conveying your longing for one another. 

“Mmm, that’s nice,” you say as he nibbles gently on your lip and then licks over it.

“Really nice.” Marcus says, pulling you in closer. 

You giggle after a few moments. “My lipstick is all over you,” you smile, wiping his lips with your fingers. 

“I don’t care,” he smirks. “You can cover me in it, as long as I get more kisses.”

You giggle more as he rubs his lips against yours deliberately.

“Does it suit me, is it my colour?” He asks, grinning. 

“Yes, velvet pink is your colour, Marcus.” You titter.

“Well, blue is certainly yours, this dress is just so… stunning. I like how it just-” He loses the words as his eyes roam all over you. “I like how it just kind of shows all of you.”

“Yeah?” The dress is flattering, hugging your curves in all the right places and just revealing the subtlest amount of flesh, mostly down your back.

“Yeah… God, I want to peel you out of it so slowly. I want to enjoy the view.”

He kisses across your collarbone as you unbutton his waistcoat.

“I’m just gonna take my jacket off, set it over there…” he tosses it across the room and it misses the chair as he locks onto your lips. “You look so good in blue.” Marcus compliments. “Almost don’t want to take it off.”

“Then you won’t see what I’ve got on underneath it,” you tease. 

He makes a noise similar to a hungry bear, and you giggle as you reach for the zip under your arm and pull it down. 

“Fuck…” he sighs as you slip the dress off to reveal a matching lace set in midnight blue. “So gorgeous,” he smiles, pulling you in for another deep kiss. 

“You like it?”

“I love it…” He says, as his fingers trace the strap down from your shoulder, over the delicate cup, and he squeezes gently around your breast. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You both chuckle as he walks you backwards towards the bed as you push his waistcoat off. You pull on his tie, bringing him closer so you can taste his lips again. 

Sinking into its plush comfort, Marcus climbs over you. The soft lighting casts a warm glow, creating an intimate, serene atmosphere. He kicks off his shoes as you loop his tie out from under the collar and toss it to the floor.

“See what kissing you does to me,” you whisper, guiding his hand down between your legs, and he groans when feels how warm and damp it is there. 

“Quiero que te sientas muy bien…” (I want to make you feel really good) He whispers back.

“You always make me feel so good, Marcus.” You assure.

He smiles crookedly as you reach for his crotch.

“How you doing, big guy?” You say, stroking over the soft bulge in his slacks, and he sighs into your mouth. 

“Almost,” he pants. “Keep doing that… feels really good.” His cock although still a little flaccid, is swelling. But the Viagra needs a little helping hand to get him there.

“Do you want my mouth?”

“Oh God, yeah.” He groans and you’ve never seen a man unzip his pants so fast. 

He watches you pull out a small bottle of lube from the overnight bag. You squirt a little of it into your hands, rub them together and then slide them around his cock. He immediately groans out as you do so. 

“That feel good?” You whisper, nipping on his lobe. 

“Mmm… so good.”

A swollen, pale pink tip, and grey, wiry hairs that are trimmed almost to sparsity around his thick, heavy balls, greet you as you stroke and pump. Marcus has always harboured a generous sized manhood between his thighs, and aging certainly hasn't denied him of that as the throbbing length of him feels so good in your hands.

You grip a little tighter, making him work as he pushes his hips into your fist, almost like he’s fucking it.

“Oh wow!” He grunts. 

You kiss over his belly, down into his thighs and then take him in your mouth, cock swollen and hardening fully around your tongue as you suck on him. He tastes good, he’s always tasted so damn good. 

He repeatedly gathers your hair up, stylishly streaked with it's own grey, but it falls out of his grip, continually obscuring his view. He swipes it into a ragged, messy pony between his fingers in time to see you let your saliva dangle from your mouth and drip onto his head. 

“Fuck…” he whines, as you sink his cock back into your mouth. It’s rock solid now, throbbing against your tongue. “God, I fucking want you…” He grunts with those delicious expletives tumbling out of him in that way when he gets all worked up.

“Want you inside me, Marcus.” You moan into his mouth. 

He pulls down the cup of your bra and sucks your nipple into his mouth, and you both groan out in delight. 

“How do you want me?” He asks, removing his shirt fully.

“Lay with me, beside me so I can kiss you.” You pant, unclipping your bra and removing your panties.

Once you’re both fully naked, he shuffles up behind you, taking your leg and folding it over his arm. He kisses you, tongue slipping into your mouth as you reach down and guide his thickness against your folds.

"Wait, do you-"

“I don’t need any lube, you’ve got me so wet, Marcus…” You pant as you swipe him against you, up and down, covering him in your slick. 

You hear him growl in your ear as he pushes in, slipping through into you with ease.

“Just slides right in.” He agrees. “Fuck! You feel so good. So wet for me.”

The lewd sounds of his cock coated in your slick provides the background noise to your mutual pants and whines as he pushes in and out.

“Damn, this is such a beautiful pussy. Oh God.”

“Yours.”

“Mine.” He pants.

He kisses your knee, your cheek, your breast, your mouth - all within easy reach as his hips push back and forth, his cock sinking deeper into you with each gentle thrust. 

“Oh, you feel so good,” he whines. 

“Mmm, Marcus.” 

“You can feel me, hmm? Right here?” He places his large palm flat on your lower abdomen and presses down a little and you groan. 

“Right there!” You sigh, smiling. 

You gasp as his fingers slip down onto your clit, circling around and around as he kisses you again. You feel that delicious buzzing on it from his fingers and you shudder and grin into him. 

“I love that so much.”

“I know you do,” he smirks. You whine when he does it again. Little flares of electricity pulsing through you.  

He’s pressed flush against you, balls deep into your cunt, and rubbing your clit. Gentle, rhythmic strokes and you kiss around his lips and neatly trimmed beard. He nuzzles his nose across yours, smiling deeply into you. 

“Marcus… feels so good. Don’t stop…” You pant. He can feel you squeezing already; your breath more ragged as it pelts him in the face.

“Come for me,” he coos, as you grip onto his wrist; your thighs shaking as your clit pulls tighter under his buzzy ministrations. “Look at you, so beautiful. Come for me.”

He delves deeper, pushing that thick cock as far as it’ll go in this position - his crackly fingers gliding across your clit faster as you mewl and whine. You buck and push back, your body shaking and tensing. Your gasps reach higher pitches as you feel it rising within you. 

“So beautiful when you come for me. Tan hermoso... Quiero sentirlo. Quiero sentirte venir para mí. Ven toda sobre mí…” (So beautiful... I want to feel it. I want to feel you come for me. Come completely over me.) 

And that does it; the hushed whispers of the Spanish dirty talk flooding warm in your ear ignites the spark that crackles down your spine and floods in your core. 

“Así es, joder, te sientes tan bien alrededor de mi verga.” (That's right, shit, you feel so good around my cock)

“Oh fuck, Marcus, the way you speak like that-”

“I know, why do you think I do it?” He grins into your cheek, his tongue licking against it. “Porque sé que te gusta y te pone tan húmeda para mí. No puedes evitarlo, ¿verdad?, cuando hablo tan sucio así, ¿hmm?” (Because I know you like it and it makes you so wet for me. You can't help it, right, when I talk dirty like that, hmm?)

You nod, smiling and heated. “Sí, sí, sí…” (Yes, yes, yes)

He continues to slide in and out of your pussy, making you groan with each measured thrust.

“Let me ride you,” you say, sucking on his bottom lip.

“You won’t get no protest from me,” he grins. 

You straddle him, feeling him fill you full of him again as you sink down, all the way down on him. 

“Oh God,” he whines. “Thats it, that’s it… fuck. Fuck yes!”

“Marcus!”

“Feel good like that? Taking my cock so deep, mi dulzura… Oh shit!” He pants as you ride him harder. “That’s it, take it, take it, take it… It’s all yours. I’m all yours.” (My sweetness)

He likes watching you as you ride him, moving that bit faster, winding your hips more intensely as you draw closer to your peak. He likes to kiss you and suck your nipples as you work.

You watch him lick his thumb and press it against your clit, nodding and smiling at you to come for him, almost begging he wants it so bad - wants you so bad. You cry out as those crackles flood your core, making you clench and writhe.

He’s floored, watching as you glow riding on his cock like this. Unable to form words, you’re so beautiful. The fact he can still make you feel like this, even when his body can’t or won’t cooperate, stuns him. 

“F-Fuck…” Marcus can only stammer on a barely there whisper as you lean in to kiss him some more, feeling your pussy contract and rib around him as you come undone. 

You collapse gently on top of him, and he wraps his hands around your waist.

More often than not, he can't finish, especially with the Viagra. Just keeping him stiff and for your pleasure, which he’s more than happy with and to indulge in. “Just want to feel you come, mi dulzura.” (My sweetness)

Every time you come around him, he feels it, sees the joy and bliss in your eyes, hears the mewls and pants into the pillow, dusted over his lips. He’ll give you this, all of him as long as he can. As long as he’s able.

The mind is willing, but sometimes… sometimes the body can’t quite keep up anymore.

You’d both talked about it the first time it happened. The first time he lost his erection and couldn’t finish. He was so embarrassed, on the verge of tears and feeling like he'd let you down. But your reassurances and love, peppered with longing kisses, convinced him it was nothing to worry about. So he didn’t.

And he did the same for you, when you struggled to get wet sometimes. It wasn’t that he didn’t turn you on, because he sure as hell did. He still does every time you look at him - he takes your breath away.

But sometimes your body doesn’t want to play ball too, and you’ve both discovered ways to still enjoy sex together with some helpful aids such as toys, lubricant, some blue pills, but most of all, patience.

Switching up positions when you both tire easily and your joints won’t meld you into adventurous positions anymore. Spending time kissing and fawning over one another. Just being in his arms is more than enough.

You both enjoy pulling pleasure out of one another with no hurried pace or shame about how your bodies have changed, and continue to change. Your breasts have stretch marks and hang lower now, the skin under your arms flaps about a bit more - your own tummy is crinkled with wrinkly skin. And yet he always makes you feel beautiful when you’re naked in his arms.

His cock struggles to get hard without assistance now, his balls hang lower and the skin around his own waist and back is looser too. But you still desire him, you still love every single inch of him. 

You’re growing old together; something that both of you are lucky to experience and embrace wholly, together.  

Marcus whimpers, ragged little cries escaping his throat as you come around him. Your pussy is tightening and feeling so good that he can barely contain himself. And he’s so beautiful to you now just as he was when you first met him in that restaurant on your first date together. 

He still has that golden tanned skin from tending to his garden lovingly in the hot sun. Painted with some paler lines across his stomach and pubic bone where the sun doesn’t reach. The little sag of his belly from gaining a bit of weight now that he's not working out every day. A head of silver hair, almost snowy white entirely, replaces his dark curls. Liver spots and wrinkles appear in places they weren’t before.

Now in his mid-sixties, Marcus carries the weight of his years with a distinguished grace that speaks of a life well-lived and battles hard-fought.

Despite his enduring strength, age has brought with it a touch of forgetfulness too. He might occasionally misplace his glasses, only to find them perched atop his head after a thorough search. His keys sometimes elude him, turning up in the most unexpected places, like the refrigerator shelf or the bathroom sink.

These small lapses are met with laughter and gentle teasing from you, and you always help him find his missing items with a patient smile. One morning recently at breakfast, he hesitated, trying to remember if he’d taken his morning vitamins. But you, ever attentive, nudged the pill bottle toward him with a knowing smile.

"You didn't take them yet," you said, your voice filled with affection.

"Thanks," he replied, a bit sheepishly. "What would I do without you?"

"You'd manage," you’d teased, "but it wouldn't be nearly as much fun."

These moments, far from diminishing him, add to his character, painting a picture of a man who has lived fully and continues to do so with grace and humility. His forgetfulness becomes a part of your shared experiences, something that brings you closer and provides moments of light-hearted humour and tender connection.

“Oh fuck, you look good on top like this, so good on top… like that, that’s it. Oh God, use me. Keep doing that…” He’s drawn back to you, to this moment where you garner some more strength to keep going.

“Marcus!” You cry as you grind a little harder. 

“I just wanna hold you right here…” He pulls your forward and keeps you in place, crushed against his chest as he thrusts up into you. “God, you’re so hot, I can’t get enough of you!” He pants.

“Oh fuck, Marcus! I’m gonna come again!” 

“Yes, come, come, come, come…” He chants in your ear. 

You wriggle and squirm in the throes of your pleasure. He grips onto you tighter and pushes himself deeper into you. 

“Marcus!” You call out, your eyes rolling back. 

Gripping onto his shoulders, he almost roars as you come again, body tensing and sweat pouring off of him. You can hear him wheezing in the back of his throat as you shake and tense above him.

Then, a small whimper rolls off his tongue as he strokes your back, hearts thudding against one another. 

He taps over his heart. “Oh shit, it’s beating like crazy.”

“You okay?”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine.” He chuckles breathlessly.

“Don’t wanna give you a heart attack.” You smirk.

“No, no, no. I’m good, really good. Although, it'd be a good way to go.”

“I don’t know CPR.” You muse. 

“I know the hymen-lick manoeuvre.” He waits for a second, before you burst out laughing. 

“That was terrible!” You cackle at his stupid joke. 

“You laughed, it counts.”

You hear him giggle, and then you giggle too as he looks at you with deep, brown eyes. 

“Not bad for an old guy, hmm?” Marcus smiles, nuzzling into you. 

“Not bad at all.” You agree, planting your lips on his. 

“I love you. Te quiero.” (I love you)

“Te quiero mucho.” You reply, kissing the tip of his nose. (I love you so much)

You lay there together for a while, cuddled up to him and savouring the tender, peacefulness between you.

“You wanna go again? I’m still hard. Will stay like that for a few hours…” Marcus grins. 

You snort, laughing into his lips. “Are you trying to finish me off?” 

He nods. “I’m banking on the life insurance policy. This wedding has cost me a fortune. I need to top up.”

“You’ll be lucky. Christ, I can only imagine what it would say on my death certificate.”

“Fucked to death.” He chuckles, pulling you against his chest, and you can’t help but laugh with him. 

"You silly man." You smirk, planting a kiss into his neck.

The following morning, you both spend time together in the elegant bathtub, washing and caressing one another in the fragrant soapy bubbles.

You lay in his lap as he strokes you gently to a soft orgasm with wet fingers, and tells you how much he loves you. You take your time with him, stroking his cock in your foamy hand until he eventually bursts, spilling warm and pearly over your grip, shaking and panting into your mouth.

You smile, watching Marcus pull on a soft sweater, and then you both laugh as he realises, whilst putting his suit in the suit bag, that he’s put it on backwards. 

Once dressed and packed, you both head down for breakfast in the Manor House’s elegant dining room. The room is bathed in warm morning light, with large windows offering a stunning view of the lush gardens outside.

The table is set with fine china and an array of delicious breakfast options, from fresh fruit and pastries, to a variety of hot dishes on offer and cooked to order.

Marcus pours out fresh coffee and you pick Marcus a fruit bowl whilst you wait for Missy and Sam to join you both as previously arranged.

You feed pieces of melon into Marcus’s mouth. He eyes you suggestively as he sucks your fingers free of the syrup. 

“Mmm,” he murmurs with a wink behind his dark-rimmed specs as he leans in to plant a sugary-sweet smooch on your lips.

"You two are worse than teenagers," Missy teases, a playful glint in her eyes. "How do you still act like this in your sixties?"

Marcus grins and squeezes your hand. "Love only gets better with age, muñeca." (Doll)

You smile softly, leaning into his shoulder. "We've had plenty of practice," you add, your eyes twinkling. "Besides, we're just setting a good example for you two."

Sam raises his coffee cup in a toast. "Well, if we end up half as in love as you two when we're your age, we'll consider ourselves very lucky."

Missy smiles warmly, looking at you both with a mixture of admiration and amusement. "Alright, alright, I get it. Love doesn’t have an expiration date. But still, maybe keep the lewd PDA to a minimum while we eat?"

Marcus laughs, his eyes glimmering with joy and pats your thigh affectionately. "No promises, but we'll try to behave.” He looks at you, with a cheeky glint in his eye. “For now..."

I really hope you enjoyed reading this story with Marcus, and welcome your comments/thoughts. I'd appreciate a re-blog if you liked it so others can find it on their dash to read and enjoy too - thank you very much! 🖤

BODIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

MARCUS MORENO MASTERLIST

[aihoshiino]

chapter 150 thoughts!

Chapters Since The 143 Kiss Happened And Went Entirely Unacknowledged And Unaddressed Count: 7…. ttttttechnically? they don't actually mention that the kiss happened, so i'm counting it…

ladies, gentlemen and those who know better, our long national nightmare is finally over

after… literally I've lost count of how long it's been since we had some proper Aqua introspection, our landmark chapter 150 is almost entirely dedicated to putting us back in Aqua's head (quite literally!) and sort of catching up with him. Some things about Aqua that have been mostly only communicated through showing over telling are explicitly told in text and i'm ngl, there's one or two things where seeing textual confirmation of them got me barking like a fucking dog. Overall, while the pacing of the start of this arc has been bit clunky and this chapter itself isn't free of that either, it actually feels like things are moving and meaningful characterization is happening which after the Movie Arc is a bit of a luxury lol.

As usual, I want to gush about Mengo's art before I touch on anything else. Setting the majority of this chapter in a dream sequence allowed her to do some incredibly fun things with the staging and imagery here. Aqua in that eerie void with his feet drenched in blood… Aqua and Gorou still stuck in that hallway where Ai died, while Ruby has managed to take steps to leave… It's so fucking good.

There were some absolutely top tier Kanas this chapter, too… her little baby tantrum in flashback and that gorgeous final page of her… But I'm getting ahead of myself.

While I described this chapter up top as being communicating things about Aqua, it very much feels to me like it's also serving as closure for Gorou, both in the sense of him as a person and resolving the posthumous arc that he's been going on as part of Aqua. This chapter at last draws a clear and explicit distinction between the two, that Aqua is no longer Gorou, even if he might have been built on the foundation of his identity. Gorou is even described as a 'role' that Aqua has been compelled to play that Gorou himself is now urging him to step down from - he is offering to relinquish Aqua's future back to him… if that's what Aqua wants.

This was how I'd initially read the relationship back in my 143 review - that 'Aqua Hoshino' created from Gorou, his core values and driving ideals, but 18+ years of living a whole new life in a whole new social role, meeting people and having experiences Gorou would never have and literally having a different body and brain in the process have made him different and the sum total of those differences is the person we call Aqua Hoshino. This chapter seems to lean into this interpretation, casting them as a pair of briefly intersecting lines that once crossed but have now diverged onto their own paths.

I also just really liked the dynamic that they were shown to have this chapter. Whenever we've seen this conflict externalized in the past, Gorou has always been this frightening, overwhelming presence whose existence actively prevents Aqua from having any kind of happiness or peace. Here, though, they have a much less adversarial energy, which is a really nice reflection of Aqua being able to gradually start pulling himself out of the shit he's been stuck in. Gorou almost feels fatherly or big brotherly here, not just in how he behaves in regards to Sarina-as-Ruby, but for Aqua, too.

But……….. okay, I'll stop dodging around the elephant in the room now lol

After over 25 chapters of very deliberately avoiding putting us in his headspace, 150 finally puts the ball in Aqua's court vis-a-vis the AquRuby tension and he answers in a way I think would be pretty hard to walk back: That Ruby is his precious sister and that's it. That her feelings for him are the result of her projecting Gorou onto him, chasing a ghost that is fading from this world and that she does not actually love him. Whoof.

This was another thing where seeing it in text felt pretty great. I'd caught pretty early on that there was a weird divide in the way the story was handling the AquRuby dynamic - namely, that there wasn't an AquRuby dynamic and all the supposed ship development of it was largely happening in retrospect, beefing up the intensity of the GRSR relationship and having Ruby express her feelings to Gorou-through-Aqua. When the idea of Aqua and Ruby romance was floated, by contrast, it was always treated like a gag. With the Movie arc being as much of a mess as it was, it was hard to work out what the intentionality of that was (if there was any to begin with) but this seems to make it about as clear as it can be: neither Gorou or Aqua have any had any feelings of that sort of Sarina-through-Ruby and neither of them want to pursue romance with them.

Once again tapping into my powers of Claire-voyance, I already know a lot of people are trying to insist that this is Aqua lying to himself or 'settling' and that he does secretly want a relationship with Ruby for reals! but that really isn't how it comes across to me in the art. He's calm, speaks straightforwardly and without hesitation and makes his point pretty clear. We know how it looks when OnK character lie to themselves and this isn't really it. It would also just be strange for that to be the case when this is a scene about Aqua starting to consider the idea of moving past the things that hurt him and live out his future with someone.

And who that someone is… seems to be coming into focus, but I don't think we'll be getting there quite yet.

I will say that for as much as I liked this as a chapter and as a goodbye for Gorou… it kind of doesn't really make a lot of sense as a resolution for his guilt lol. This chapter frames things in such a way that centers his guilt on Sarina and that seeing her live her life as Ruby has given him some catharsis over it. This is a sweet idea but… that's, uh, not how this was framed anytime prior! When we've seen Gorou intrude on Aqua's happiness before, his self hate and his guilt all center on Ai's death and his inability to save her. The last time we saw him in this capacity in 95, that's what he was saying with his whole chest: that he deserves to suffer as punishment for Ai's suffering, Ai's death. I'm sure that knowing Sarina is living on as Ruby was very cathartic but… it has nothing to do with Ai! Why is this being framed as narratively resolved in this way?

Like… if I chew on it a bit, I can make it make sense: since chapter 1, Gorou has been pretty open about projecting Sarina onto Ai, processing his grief that way and imagining her living vicariously through Ai's success. The idea of Ruby doing the same by continuing Ai's legacy and keeping her radiance alive being the thing that gives him release over Ai's death is interesting and I can understand it emotionally, it just feels like a weird unexplained leap for the narrative to make. I was talking to a friend about it, trying to work it out by externalizing it, and they theorized that this was always the intended endpoint of Gorou's posthumous arc but that the story had drifted in the middle section and Akasaka hadn't quite realigned them. This makes a lot of sense to me and I wouldn't be surprised if it was the case.

I will say that it really bugs me. I've already talked about the ways Ai's importance to the twins as their mother has been gradually downplayed and diluted as the Movie Arc has gone on. In my original post, I attributed this to Akasaka trying to amp up the intensity of the GRSR -> AQRB relationship in a soap opera-y sort of way, but given that this chapter seems to shut down AquRuby, I don't really know if that's the case. In general, Ai has been treated as sort of narratively 'resolved' as of 137, as if that chapter was the capstone to her posthumous character arc and while that might be the case for Ruby… I really don't think it is for Aqua!

It's possible that this is intentional. Aqua still has a shitton of work to do on unfucking his relationship with Ai and the ways his view of her, as implied by the Movie Arc, is warped by his grief. I could see this final stretch of the story being primarily about that - after all, this chapter is about confronting Aqua with the binary choice of revenge or love. In a lot of ways, this has always been what he's struggling with but putting the ball this firmly in his court establishes Ai's death entirely as his own trauma that he has to work through on his own. After all, Aqua might have confronted Gorou in this chapter, but there's a certain someone we also saw in chapter 95 that Aqua hasn't dealt with yet…

I'm talking about Kana, obviously! (ducks thrown tomatoes)

I don't have a ton to say about the AQKN romance setup in this chapter other than… yeah, I kinda saw this coming! It's interesting to see Gorou, the representation of Aqua's guilt and self destruction, be the one to so directly confront him and push him towards trying to find some happiness with her. Aqua quietly noting that he knows the things he likes about Kana and he knows that moving on with her makes a lot of sense - but what makes this especially interesting is the way it mirrors Kana's own reflection on her relationship with Aqua at the end of the chapter.

I like that a lot of the AQKN moments the two reflect on are just… mundane, everyday instances of the two of them stumbling through life together. I've seen a lot of people say AQKN is 'boring' or 'flat' because it lacks the drama of AQAK or AQRB but honestly, I feel like this is what makes it work (when it does work) - their relationship, whatever form it takes, is a safe and quiet space where they can just exist outside the drama and transactional utility of so many of their other relationships.

That said, while those montages mirror each other, what makes them interesting is their divergence point. Kana decides to commit to choosing 'love', with that absolutely gorgeous full page panel, but Gorou hands the knife - the symbol of the violence that blighted Aqua's life - back to him and makes it clear that love or revenge, the choice is now entirely in Aqua's hands. We don't see what he chooses, but… if Oshi no Ko really is a story with a happy ending, I think it's a foregone conclusion. And that makes me really happy.

Not that it's happening anytime soon, lol. I'll be very shocked if Kana's confession doesn't result in a rejection from Aqua, at least at this point in time - there's too much else going on in the story for this to be the right place for Aqua to commit to Kana. She's still an idol, after all and Kamiki is still around. The bets I'm placing right now are that AQKN are going to get their resolution, whatever form it takes, at the Dome concert during or after Kana's graduation.

As for their date… Call me cynical, but I also don't see it going particularly well. After all…

Aren't we forgetting somebody?

[king-bumis-armpit]

What do you think would be Mai's favorite animal?

Mai’s favorite animal is Zuko. Hope this helps!

Kidding, kidding. But this is such a creative question! I fear my thoughts are less creative but here’s what I got:

1. Hawks/falcons. I know there are messenger hawks all over the Fire Nation, but I’m thinking more along the lines of goshawks or peregrine falcons. Similar to her knives, these birds of prey launch themselves at their targets with deadly precision. Mai admires how graceful and elegant they are while still being powerful and cunning. Also, they look cool, which would definitely factor into her ranking. 

2. Sea urchins. They’re purple or black and spiky! What more can I say? The first time Mai saw one, she felt a kinship with them immediately. It’s canon that Mai used to go to Ember Island as a kid, and I like to think that she would slip away from her parents to search the tide pools. Sometimes Zuko would accompany her, and sometimes she’d go alone. Azula went once and every time after refused on the grounds that it was gross. But Mai and Zuko know she’s actually just scared.

Side note: I reference this head canon in my fic Put a Ring on It, specifically in part 2. For that story, I made up the concept of urchin crabs, which I pictured as crabs with urchins on top instead of shells. Jokes on me BECAUSE THOSE ACTUALLY EXIST! It’s actually a separate crab and urchin that are living symbiotically, but how cool is that!)

3. Dragons. Druk is Mai’s favorite individual animal on the whole earth. HE IS HER BABY! Zuko brings him home, terrified of what Mai’s going to say. But Druk– still an itty bitty lizard at this point– immediately hops up onto her arm like he’s been there his whole life. Mai can’t help it. Her heart is captured. The tiny dragon is looking at her like she knows the secrets of the universe. Mai is not an indulgent person, but Zuko quickly notices that she is more lenient with Druk and she never hesitates to shower him with praise and affection. Zuko would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little jealous. But he’s mostly glad that they get along. After meeting Druk, Mai adds dragons to her list of favorites.

[daydreaming-in-letters]

Against the wall

05/24/2024

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,917

Warnings: rpf, alcohol, pining, naughty thoughts, fluff

Summary: Sometimes all it takes is a room full of people to figure out you want nothing more than to be alone with that one person.

A/N: Guys, this was written in a fevered frenzy. Haven't felt the muse in months and don't know whether she did a good job, but I am so happy she is not dead.

Picture is a screen cap from this video

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

If you enjoy my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. No permission is given to copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

She had forgotten how much she loathed being in a room full of people. Maybe it was a condition that came with age, to appreciate silence and solitude, or maybe, just maybe, it was entirely his fault. 

Her back leaning against the wall, his hand was splayed out right next to her head, supporting the weight of his body as he leant in slightly so he could focus on her voice above the noise of the bustling room. He had never been this close to her, so close she could smell the intoxication scent of his body, and in an instant the chatter was drowned out by the wild drum of her heart, which in turn made it one of the most challenging tasks she had ever had to face to string her words together into meaningful sentences. 

But it seemed she had somehow succeeded, against all odds, as he turned his head to look at her, his face so close now that she could feel the heat of his breath on her face. And as if that had not been enough to clear every coherent thought from her head, he chose to turn his lips up into the most dazzling smile upon her silly joke. 

It made her dizzy, combined with the sparkle in his eyes it was an almost deadly combination, impossible to resist. It had captured her completely. He had captured her completely, occupied her every thought in a way that was bordering on concerning, for her sanity, maybe even for the idea of feminism she lived by, but even more so for the very essence of her existence. 

She had seen it all so clearly, a happy future, no one to bother her, especially no man to cause her even more worries than she already had. Just her, the path in front of her clearly mapped out. And then he had crossed her way, and it had dawned on her that what she had deemed the perfect life would seem like nothing but a cheap substitute next to a life with him. Certainly, she could still be happy without him—if she needed to. 

The problem was, she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to live a life without the sound of his laughter, without his twisted sense of humour and the way he looked at her when they were engaged in a conversation, as if there was no one else in this world, as if it was only him and her. He made her feel secure in a way no one ever had. When he entered the room, she could feel her shoulders relax, her breath going more easily and the galloping of her heart slowing in pace. And when she talked to him, it was as if she had never done anything else in her entire life. There was nothing of the usual unease or urge to appeal between them that might, under different circumstances or with a different man, lead her to a point at which she had either moulded herself into a completely different person or where everything meaningful she had wanted to say and that had been phrased so clearly in her head became lost somewhere on the way from her brain to her mouth. With him though, she could just be herself, safe in the knowledge that he would not judge or tire of her at some point. 

If only she knew with the same certainty if he felt the same. Obviously he did enjoy talking to her as well, or he wouldn’t be standing here right now, choosing to talk to her when he had a room full of people to choose from. But did he also hang on her lips like she did on his? Did he also wonder if they were just as soft as he imagined them to be? And would he like her to step closer, or pull him closer to her instead? And when her hand rested against his chest then, would she feel the same thunderous beat that drummed behind her own ribs? Would it start to flutter as soon as their lips met and refuse to fall back into its regular rhythm until their bodies lay sweaty and spent, their desire finally sated? And in their blissed out state, would he hold her? Would he pull her that impossible inch closer and press the softest of kisses to her forehead, telling her all she needed to know without uttering a single word? Would he still be there in the morning to see her tousled hair and sleep-wrinkled face and look at her with the same affection she thought to find in his gaze right now? Would he—

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” His back still turned on the intruder, he gave her the most dramatic roll of his eyes she had ever seen, making it very hard for her to hide a snicker. “Come, there is someone I need you to meet.”

She wanted to protest, wanted to do whatever it took to keep him close, but before her brain had even been able to form a protest, he was being dragged away from her, his lips forming a silent apology. 

This social engagement was tedious. The thought came as somewhat of a surprise to him. There had been a time when he had truly enjoyed this kind of event, but tonight something just was not right about this party. Well, not ‘something’ as in an unknown factor that made this party different from other parties. It was not unknown to him at all. In fact, this evening had been perfectly enjoyable up until that moment he had been so rudely separated from her. 

She was still leaning casually against that wall, the only difference being that he was too far away from her now. To be fair, any distance that exceeded an arm’s length was too far for his taste. She on the other hand did not seem to mind his absence much, as someone else had already taken his place by her side to engage her in what appeared to be a most entertaining conversation. Not one glance did she spare him, while all he could focus on was the ludicrous attempt to will himself back into his old position, close to her. So close that her breath would waft across his neck again as she spoke, the heat of her body crawling over his skin. Maybe her hand would find him by accident—or intentionally, which would be all the better. After a moment he would return the favour, finally giving in to his longing to feel the smoothness of her skin against his fingertips.

Instead all he could feel was his mouth opening as she brought the glass to her lips and took a sip of champagne. Would he be able to taste it on her tongue if she allowed him to kiss her? He almost hoped he would not be, because what he really desired to taste was her, the exquisite, singular flavour only she possessed. 

And still, that would not nearly be enough to sate his hunger. He wanted to taste all of her. Her lips, her skin, the moist heat at the apex of her thighs. He wanted her so much he could feel his mouth drying up upon the ardor of his wish, no, need for her.

What would it be like to have her? He had imagined it a thousand times over and yet there were so many questions still left unanswered. Would she voice her pleasure or enjoy in silence? Was it her wish to be the director of their passion play or did she want him to lead the way? Would his name glide over her lips in a soft moan or would she scream in ecstasy when they had finally reached the peak? Would she stay serious, caught up in desire, all the way through or would there be giggles and laughter? And what then, after they had given themselves to each other completely? Would she leave, seeing this as an experience best enjoyed once only? Or would she stay, her naked body resting against his in peaceful slumber, and allow real intimacy to begin? 

If it were his choice to make, he would know exactly what to choose. But he could not blame her if she opted for something different. Commitment was tough, and there had been times when he had thought that he, like so many others, was simply not built for it. But watching her now, he could not recall how he had ever been this blind about himself in the first place. 

It had been strange at first, that sense of belonging that always befell him when she was around, completely unexpected. But ever since he had felt it for the first time and realised its true meaning, it was as if he had discovered a law of nature, complex and yet so easy to understand, as if it had always been an inherent part of him.

Once again, the dryness he had felt earlier returned to his mouth, more demanding this time, until it had managed to push every other thought aside for a moment. Instinctively he set the glass to his lips, his eyes not once leaving her until he had lifted the bottom high enough to block his view. It had only been for the blink of an eye, but now he found himself almost choking on his final gulp when his eyes returned to find her spot against the wall empty all of a sudden.

Leaving without a goodbye was childish, she knew, but she just could not shake this nagging feeling that had befallen her out of the blue, that being in the same room with him without talking  to him or being able to at least be near him without looking as if she was running after him like a duckling was far worse than not being here at all. 

With a sigh she set down the glass on an empty table she passed on her way to the exit. What a waste, as it was almost half-full, but somehow it did not taste quite right, and so she left the rest of her drink behind, like the dream that she would ever be to him what he was to her. 

It was dark as she entered the hallway and the air felt uncomfortably cool in contrast to the air inside that had been heated by all those bodies. Their chatter was still following her now, echoing from the walls left and right. 

It must have obscured the noise of his steps, or maybe they had not made any sound at all. Otherwise she would have recognised their rhythm from a mile away. But instead, she only realised that he was there as his warm hand closed around her wrist and gently brought her to a stop. And despite the fact that she had halted her steps almost instantly, she had not expected him to be this close now as she turned, so close that she could see the startled expression of her eyes reflected in his own. So dark, so green. 

He did not utter a single word. He did not have to. She knew when his grip on her loosened and his fingers softly glided between hers. She smiled, and so did he. And then, slowly, they began to walk.

taglist:

@rosecentury

@lowkeysimpinloki

@fightmespideyboy

[uncanny-tranny]

The thing that gets me about history and humanity is that you never know what is immortalized, and the things that will be immortalized are things you would never think.

I saw a person sharing a new tattoo, and it was one of Onfim's drawings. A boy who lived so long ago he is barely a blip now, but his drawings meant so much to people that somebody is now permanently marked in their skin with one of those drawings. Do you ever look at the things you make and just sit there and wonder if this is the thing that future people look at? Do you ever look at your art, your writing, your schoolwork, or anything that is yours and just wonder who will find it, who will fall in love with a piece of your humanity and become overwhelmed with emotion over? It's not unlikely. It's not totally unlikely that somebody will find a piece of you in the distant future and devoid of any other context of who you were will still love you because you were here. You were here, and you are still here, even hundreds or thousands of years later. Treat yourself with the same love that so many have for dear Onfim.

[hooved]

i'll never be able to afford to go to that star trek convention in vegas which means i'll never get to fulfill my dream of fucking someone while they're cosplaying a ferengi

[ribbonpinky-art]

sideyshowy bobby

[the-acid-pear]

The thing about the painter analog that people don't get and makes them hate it is that at heart this isn't a serious horror story. This is pure gore not only for the sake of gore but for the sake of camp. Once I was talking of to my dad laughing at the guy who had his face sanded off and he was like yeah not new they did that in Jason already 🙄 which was later reinforced by UrbanSpook admitting this is inspired by those old 80s slasher which should tell you everything.

I'm saying this bc i saw a video pairing it with Playground and the incest game and while I don't know the second I watched a video on playground once and the difference is that that book is trying to tell a story and say something on top of the gore but the later makes it hard to care. Which is kind of the issue another "gone too far" piece of media my beloved A Serbian Film runs into where you cannot take yourself too seriously if you also want to show over the top violence or you'll lose the audience.

OF COURSE there are exceptions like Hostel, Saw and 😏 the human centipede ☺️ (cocksucker for that movie and it's more serious points, though it barely counts bc the gore is very tame save for in 2) and I couldn't exactly tell you what's the difference between what makes them work and what doesn't but still.

But I'm getting off topic I'm not here to say which media is good or not I'm here to point out the painter is not a serious story that asks you to care for the characters it's a over the top schlocky gore that asks you to go GROOOOSS or laugh at the over the top brutality it presents. Which is very standard in horror.

[widevibratobitch]

omw to play emotional support for my mom disguised as ✨fun family bonding time✨ for the rest of the week <3333 there's something so deeply wrong with me uwu teehee

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

the way russ explains things, i swear

this is another way he reminds me so much of bruce dickinson sometimes, they both have that thing where they can explain things in a way that literally anybody could understand it

bruce with planes for example, when i hear him talk about them, he makes me feel like i've been a plane mechanic for 60 years despite knowing nothing about planes besides what he's saying(and i have not been alive for 60 years)

russ is the same, not about planes, but just the way he words things. things about life and his perspective on things. they're both so smart in similar ways and they both have that same drive in doing what they want to do. they both have an amazing outlook on life. the love for music. the love for the fans. just beautiful people all around.

[cinnamon-phrog]

Had a dream about............... three of them <3

[rucow]

everyone talks about how nice it so have people be interested in your OCs, stories, yourself etc. but no one talks about how that can also be really draining bc some of us just don't feel the need to share our ideas with others, especially when we're put on the spot and interrogated