#maybe its just a double layered curse

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

Listen i don’t…. I don’t have words I just have vibes to present okay i just have vibes

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Babysitting Has Its Perks (Choso x Dabi x Black!F!Reader 18+ One Shot)

Pairing: Big Bro!Choso x Black!Fem!Reader x Big Bro!Dabi

Synopsis: You’ve been babysitting kids as a side hustle for a while now to get extra money. You have your regulars, one of them being a doctor’s cute little son Yuji. Though the pay is good, you admit that the main reason you come back to babysit the kid is because of his sexy older brother Choso. On Halloween, when Choso gets caught up in a pinch, he hits you up last minute to babysit Yuji and his bandmate’s little brother. You think this will be an easy night…until you meet Choso’s bandmate Dabi…and you decide to wear a bunny costume…and you realize just how much your secret crush and his hot friend love bunny girls.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Musician!Choso + Dabi; Big Bro/Family AU; Band AU; Nerdy!Reader; Highkey Flirting; Weed + Alcohol Consumption; High + Drunk Sex; Dubcon; R*pe; Threesome; Sex Tape; Facefucking; Cunnilingus; Fingering; Nipple Sucking; Double Deepthroat; Choso + Dabi Got Big Cocks; Degradation/Praise; Dom!Choso + Dabi/sub!Reader; Roleplay; Doggystyle; NO CONDOM; Reader Cums 2x; Facials; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: I’ve had this nasty little idea for a hot minute now tee hee!! 🤭 Originally, it was supposed to be just a Choso one shot, but then I thought “Damn….it’d be so hot if Dabi did this too”. So I made a lil crossover one shot for spooky day. I hope y’all enjoy! -Jazz 💋💋

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“Are you my big bro’s girlfriend?”

This was the first thing little Yuji asked you the first time you showed up to babysit him. You stood on the steps of the white picket-fenced house belonging to Nanami Kento, a busy doctor who sought you out for your babysitting services on your LinkedIn.

It was September then and a mild night that only called for light layers. You were dressed in a cardigan that you paired with a clingy, white baby tee, hip-hugging jeggings, and flats. You wanted to be casual but still mild mannered since you were at a doctor’s home. You had giggled at the boy’s cuteness and replied, “Close. I’m your new babysitter!”

The little pink-haired boy with the rosy cheeks and a gap tooth had grinned happily at you before turning around and yelling, “CHOSO, YOUR GIRLFRIEND IS MY NEW BABYSITTER!”

“YUJI!” someone yelled back. You had giggled at Yuji’s antics until you actually saw Choso for the first time and started thinking that maybe being confused for his girlfriend wasn’t such a bad thing. As soon as he came to the door in his sweats and polo socks, your smile fell.

The man was fine. He had a face straight out of a dream with his black hair in two spiked ponytails that reminded you so much of Garu from your favorite cartoon ‘Pucca’. He was tall and big, much bigger than you thanks to your cursed short stack height, with broad shoulders and big arms roped in tattoo sleeves that started at his shoulders and cascaded down to his wrists. His thick fingers were coated in metal rings and his nails were painted black.

You thought briefly of what they’d feel like wrapped around your throat or…somewhere else.

The man was also shirtless. His porcelain skin looked soft to the touch, only touched by some tattoos here and there that added to his sexiness. There was one of Yuji’s name on his collarbone; a black heart with a knife jutting out of it on his right neck near his pierced nipple, a silver ball glinting back at you from both of the pebbled, pink peaks; a serpent slithering from his narrow left hip bone down, down, down under the waistband of his sweats that sat dangerously low on his hips, revealing his smooth, toned stomach and V-line.

You must’ve been standing there looking like a damn idiot because Yuji tugged on your hand. “Hellooo?” he sang. “Hey, are you okay?”

You blinked, suddenly back in your body after going up and beyond. Choso was also staring at you, his pierced brow raised in confusion.

“O-Oh, yeah!” you squeaked, wincing at your high-pitched voice. Quickly, you fixed your glasses and cleared your throat. “Yeah, sorry, m’fine. I-I’m—"

“The new babysitter,” Choso finished, his lips quirking into a small smile. His bottom lip looked so plump and soft, pierced with a silver ring you wanted to tug on. “Yeah, my dad told me about you. Sorry about…” He motioned down his bare upper torso, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.

His blush was so attractive that you nearly melted at his feet. He was so endearing and so sexy. “I was changin’ and wanted to stop this rugrat from answerin’ the door when he’s not supposed to.” He tugged on Yuji’s ear, making the boy giggle and swat at his hand. “Y/N, right?”

Realizing he was asking you your name, your brain stopped short-cuiriting for a moment to answer. “Y-Yeah,” you stammered. “And you’re—“

“Choso,” a deep, firm voice said from inside, prompting Choso to roll his pretty, violet eyes. “What did I tell you about answering the door without a shirt on?”

The older brother turned to the even finer blonde who came to the door in a pristinely clean tailored suit. “I only did that one other time ‘cause of those stupid kids prankin’ us,” he scoffs. “Lock the doors next time so Yuji doesn’t answer.”

Nanami went to argue back, but realizing you were standing there awkwardly, he stopped. “Oh, Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were here this early.”

“I hope you don’t mind,” you replied as he and Choso let you into their tasteful, cozy home, Choso holding a giggling Yuji under his arm like a puppy. “I know you have a doctors’ dinner to go to, so I figured I’d come early.”

“Not at all,” Nanami sighs, sounding relieved. “I thank you for that. Please come in.” You did so and you were officially introduced to Nanami’s two boys, little Yuji and his big brother Choso before Nanami left for a doctors’ banquet.

Choso was in a rock band as a drummer and songwriter, so he had to leave too for a gig. Yuji had begged and pleaded to go with him to which Choso reminded him that kids aren’t allowed in 21+ spaces. As soon as you discovered that he was in a band, you were way more intrigued to know Yuji’s sexy, 6-foot-something brother.

No wonder he had such big arms! You’d glad let him wrap those guns around you and squeeze your head like a melon, giving it a personal bear hug. However, you kept your deviant thoughts to yourself.

You were professional. You were good. You were…kinda nerdy. You’d like to think your profile pic of you in your glasses was what gave Nanami the final impression to hire you as his personal babysitter. Since he is a busy doctor and Choso is a busier musician, someone had to look after little Yuji.

That night, you and Yuji played games, watched cartoons, and you ordered pizza and French fries for him that you both scarfed down with some orange soda (Yuji’s favorite). When Nanami came home, he paid you handsomely and thanked you again for watching his son.

Since that night a month ago, you’ve been Yuji’s personal babysitter. You watch him most weekdays when everyone is at work or on Saturday nights if no one else is around. Out of all of the kids you currently babysit, he’s your favorite. He is just too stinking cute!

You love babysitting that boy, plus the money is great. As a college girl, you need it. But there is also one more perk to your babysitting service that you refuse to admit. You feel like a pervert even thinking it, but getting an eyeful of Choso every time you walk into his house is more than enough for you to stay.

Your pathetic crush on the drummer has grown since the first night you met him. You can’t help it! Not only is he cute, but he’s also a great brother to Yuji. Seeing him goof around and tickle the tiny boy is enough to make you want to be bred by him and have his babies.

He fills your thoughts at night, prompting you to cum on your fingers and use your trusty rose until you’re sobbing his name into your pillow. You’ve thought so many times about asking him out or attending one of his shows. You want him bad like a habit…

But you won’t dare say anything. This is your job! You could fuck up some good money just because you want to fuck the kid you babysit’s big brother. And you won’t dare do that to yourself or Nanami who trusts you with his child. So you bite back your feelings and admire Choso from afar….until one night.

On a cool Halloween with autumn finally here and the leaves crunching under your feet, you leave a local cafe, your other part time job, and arrive at an empty house. Your mom is working overnight at the hospital as a nurse and has left you to your own devices. You know she’ll be late since it’s Halloween which means endless hours of greasy takeout, reading, spooky movies, and private time with your toy. No Halloween parties for you.

After changing out of your clothes, tying your kinky hair in a quick puff, and taking a hot shower with your cinnamon roll-scented body wash, you wrap yourself in a towel and head to your room to begin your quiet night in when your phone rings.

When you check your phone, you nearly drop it at the caller ID. Choso. He gave you his number along with Nanami for work purposes and to contact him if anything went wrong while you babysat Yuji. You take a deep breath to ease your vigorously pounding heart. ‘Just be cool, bitch. You know him. He’s just the older brother of the kid you babysit.’

After some seconds of mental preparations, you answer and clear your throat. “HHello?” you breathlessly stammer, very clearly affected by Choso’s call.

‘Fuck!’

“Hey, Y/N, it’s me, Choso,” he answers, his voice causing a warm feeling to curl in your core. He has such a sexy voice. “Of course, it’s me. You’ve got my number. Sorry, forget I said that.” He sighs, sounding like he’s fed up with himself the way you are with yourself.

He becomes even more endearing and much more boyfriend material-y right there. “It’s cool,” you giggle, lying back on your bed in your towel. “What’s goin’ on? Is Yuji okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine,” he replies with a chuckle. “He’s been askin’ about you. I swear the kid’s got a crush on you.” You laugh, taking your hair out of your scrunchie and running a hand through your kinks. “Well, he’s a wonderful kid.” And you mean it. Yuji is so goofy and sweet and listens to everything you say, probably because Nanami made him promise to. Either way, he’s a joy to take care of.

“Listen,” Choso begins, sounding uncertain, “I feel really bad for askin’ you this, but…are you doin’ anythin’ tonight?” Your brain suddenly short circuits and your cool bedroom feels stuffy and hot. “Uh….n-no,” you stammer. “Just at home watchin’ Halloween movies and stuff, but that’s it. I just got off from work at the cafe.” You hope that didn’t sound too lame.

“Oh, I forgot you had another job,” Choso tsks, sounding stressed out. “Shit, I’ll probably just have to cancel then.” You sit up now, concerned. “What? What’s goin’ on?”

Choso sighs once more and you feel bad for the guy. He sounds positively frustrated. “My dad is out of town until tomorrow for a doctor’s conference and I was put in charge of watchin’ Yuji, but I forgot I got a gig for a Halloween show at a bar tonight. One of my bandmates is already here and we need to leave in, like, two hours.”

“Oh, okay!” you immediately perk at the chance to see him and make more money. “I can be over there in, like, twenty minutes.”

He lightly laughs at your eagerness. ”Well, before you say yes, there��s a catch: my bandmate Dabi needs someone to watch his kid brother too. He’s the same age as Yuji but very quiet and chill, won’t give you any trouble. If you’re okay with watchin’ two kids at the same time, we’d really appreciate it and pay you double when we get home from the gig.”

You don’t even have to think it over. “I’ve watched five kids at once before. I can handle two. I’ll be over there in twenty.” Choso exhales in relief. “Fuck, Y/N, you’re a lifesaver,” he sighs. “I could fuckin’ kiss you right now. Oh, and Yuji and Dabi’s brother are goin’ trick-or-treating tonight if you wanna go with ‘em. See you over here soon and thank you!”

He hangs up before you can make a fool out of yourself over the ‘kiss you’ line. When you take the phone away from your ear, your face is flaming. Quickly, you hurry to brush your teeth, slather on some deodorant, and drown yourself in your favorite vanilla coco body mist that makes you smell like a baked goodie.

Then you dig into your closet for a costume for the kids. You find your costume from last year—fluffy, white bunny ears and a cotton tail. Basic, but it’ll do. You pair it with a white, body-con bodysuit, a skirt that stops mid-thigh, some stockings, and Mary Jane shoes. After applying some Fenty Gloss and mascara, you finally feel cute enough. Quickly, you grab your coat, phone, and bag before heading to your car.

Nanami’s house is only a ten-minute drive, so you get there by 7:45 PM. After parking, you hurry to the front door and ring the doorbell, mentally preparing yourself for another shirtless Choso (hopefully). But to your shock, it isn’t Choso who answers the door.

This man is fine if not finer than Choso. He is just as tall and slightly lanky but sinewy with muscle that is exposed underneath his loose-fitted tank top. He is all tattoos—roping up and down his arms, across his chest, on his thick neck.

Piercings, too. You can see two silver balls glinting through the exposed armholes of his tank puncturing his pink nipples. His left eyebrow and bottom lip are pierced too, giving him an almost dangerous look. The jet-black hair, ripped jeans, boots, and piercing blue eyes are the icing on the cake. He is the damn poster child for the guy good girls shouldn’t want.

His eyes lazily trail up and down your form as he leans against the doorframe. “So,” he says in a raspy drawl that nearly steals your panties, “you’re the little babysitter Choso’s been talkin’ ‘bout. Y/N, right?”

You struggle to find your voice. You feel so small and bug-like standing before such a man. You feel uncomfortable yet aroused, your panties tightening beneath your skirt. “Y-Yeah,” you stutter, gulping. “Dabi?”

He nods, the corner of his mouth tilting upward. “The guitarist,” he explains. “Sorry to interrupt your night, but we’re in a pinch. Somebody had to watch our kid brothers and apparently, you fit the bill.” His eyes roam up to your ears before trailing down your body, checking out your outfit. “Clearly.” You don’t know if you should’ve worn your skirt or not now.

“Dabi, stop flirtin’ with my babysitter!” Choso yells from inside before showing himself. Just as you hoped, he is shirtless except for a mesh top that shows off his impressive upper torso and tatted skin, jeans, and boots. His spiked hair is down for tonight and his eyes are rimmed in black liner.

It’s like the universe is playing a cruel joke on you putting you here with two sexy guys despite your awkward ass. “Hey, Y/N,” Choso greets you, flashing those whites at you. “Come in. Yuji is changin’ into his costume and Shoto is right here.”

He practically yanks Dabi out of the way to let you inside. Sitting on the couch is a little boy with multi-colored red and white hair and blue eyes like Dabi dressed in a vampire costume. You nearly swoon from the cuteness. He stares at you mutely as you come into the house.

“Sho, this is Y/N,” Dabi says, nodding at you. “She’s your babysitter for tonight. You say hello?” The little boy mutely looks at you. “Hi,” he says in a soft, bland voice. You wave at him, keeping a bright smile on your face.

“He’s a lil’ shy, but he won’t give you no trouble,” Dabi whispers as Shoto eats some carrot sticks. “Thanks again for doin’ this. I would’ve asked my siblings, but my brother is a big-time athlete and my sis is an overnight nurse.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” you say, offering a kind smile. “I wasn’t doing much tonight anyways.” Dabi’s brows raise curiously and you immediately know that this was the wrong thing to say. “On Halloween? What, no parties or nothin’?”

You slowly shake your head, nervously smiling. “I just got off work earlier when Choso called…a-and I’m not much of a party person.” It’s so lame, but it’s true. You much prefer your books and solitude to sweaty bodies and drunk messes.

“Really?” Dabi asks, sounding humored. “Then that’s some outfit. You wear that for the kids?” His eyes, as blue as Arctic water, intensely stare at you like he’s attempting to turn you into a puddle.

Before you can think of an answer, footsteps thud down the stairs and you all turn to see Yuji in a Spider-Man costume. “Look, Y/N! I’m your friendly neighborhood Spidey!” He jumps down, lands on the bottom step, and hits a squatting pose.

You clap your hands at his superhero landing. “You look amazing, Yuji!” you squeal. “You and Shoto are gonna get sooo much candy!”

Choso walks up to Yuji with a backpack and a leather jacket, checking his water. “We’ve gotta go, squirt,” he says, ruffling Yuji’s pink hair. “Be good for Y/N and don’t eat all your candy unless you wanna be on the shitter, okay?”

Yuji giggles hysterically, slapping Choso’s arm. “You said a bad word, Chosi!” His big brother puts a finger to his lips before turning to you. “Thanks again for doin’ this. A couple of kids will be over soon to go trick-or-treatin’ with them around the block, so just let ‘em in.”

You nod, sending Choso and Dabi off with a wave from the door along with Yuji and Shoto. Five minutes later, four little kids come walking up to the door wearing costumes—a green-haired, freckle-faced ghost, a platinum-blonde werewolf, a brunette little girl dressed like Gwen Stacy, and a black-haired Venom.

“Well,” you coo, smiling at the group, “look what we have here! Are y’all Yuji and Shoto’s friends?” The ghost and Gwen Stacy nod. “Is Shoto here?” the ghost asks. “We’re here to go trick-or-treating with him!”

“Yuji too,” Gwen Stacy adds. “He’s trying to beat Megumi for the most candy bars.” She nudges Venom—Megumi—who rolls his eyes.

“Well, let me go get ‘em and we’ll go together,” you say before hurrying to scoop up your boys. Once everyone has their candy bags together, you lock the door with the key Choso left for you. “Now, let’s get some candy!” You shout, earning some cheers before Yuji and the werewolf—who you learn is Bakugou—race off to the first house.

For the next two ½ hours, you slowly walk behind the group from house to house, knocking on doors for candy, keeping the kids out of the street, and politely declining pervy men who take interest in your costume.

By the time you get home, you’re exhausted and trick-or-treating kids have long since gone home. Shoto’s brother Natsu comes to pick up Shoto to bring him home while you put Yuji to bed after too much candy. For the rest of your time there before Choso and Dabi return, you clean up wrappers, read your book, scrolling through Pinterest, and watch horror movies.

By midnight, you’ve fallen asleep on the couch in your costume, and the end credits to ‘Coraline’ on the TV. When you hear the door click open, you shoot up in surprise, your bunny ears falling off of your head and drool dripping down your chin.

The door cracks open, revealing Dabi smoking a cigarette. “Oops,” he chuckles, grinning at you. “Looks like we woke the bunny.”

Quickly, you wipe the spit off of your face and fix your bunny ears, blushing in embarrassment. You didn’t realize you fell asleep. Choso walks in the house with him, smelling of cigarette smoke and sweat. He gives you a warm smile as he shuts the door. “Hey, you. How were they?”

You smile and stand, smoothing out your skirt. “Like little angels. Yuji is asleep and Shoto was picked up by his brother.” Dabi rolls his eyes at the mention of Natsu as he stubs his cigarette out in an ashtray on the coffee table near your leg. “Yeah, the asshole called and told me to crash here tonight ‘cause he knows I’m fucked up.”

Now that he’s closer, you can see the slightly unfocused look in his blue eyes that can only be accomplished with alcohol. “I’m guessing the gig went well?” The guitarist nods, moving to sit on the couch where you just once were. “Well, we made a bunch of money and signed some titties, so yeah.”

Choso rolls his eyes, chucking a pillow at him. Dabi catches it with one hand. “Shut up. Speakin’ of money…”

He digs into his bag for his phone and clicks a couple buttons. Seconds later, your phone dings with a CashApp alert for $550. “From Dabi and me to you for your services,” he says, giving you a wink that makes your stomach flip.

“Oh, it was no problem, really!” you say with a reassuring smile, though your body sings with joy over the money.

Choso walks over to the couch and plops down with a tired huff, throwing his boots up on the table with Dabi’s. “So you goin’ home?” he curiously asks. “Y’know, you’re welcome to crash here tonight till tomorrow. The streets are packed tonight and those ears might attract the wrong crowd.”

He gives you a joking smirk, evident that he’s kidding. Dabi snickers as he rises from the couch, passing by you with a glint in his eye that makes you feel as if he isn’t joking. “Like we aren’t?” he asks, his voice causing chills to slither down your spine like a snake.

He walks to the kitchen, his walk lazy and slow like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Choso sits on the couch, arms slung over the back and his thighs pried open as if attempting to convince you to stay. “Thanks, but I couldn’t.” You pause, grabbing your bag. “I don’t wanna overstep or—“

“Please,” he scoffs, cutting you off. “You’ve been watchin’ my kid brother for a month! You’re practically family. Plus, we’ve got beer and some weed if you smoke.” Dabi comes back minutes later with three beer bottles, chilled and appetizing. “We’re celebratin’,” he announces with a crooked smirk as he sits down next to Choso.

“An hour then? Just to wait out the traffic?” Choso suggests as Dabi passes him a bottle. You watch the guitarist slip a baggie of marijuana out of his back pocket along with a pack of papers. “But only if you feel comfortable,” Choso adds as if sensing your apprehension.

The two make it a point to leave a space for you between them. You gnaw on your bottom lip, gripping the strap to your bag. You know if you say yes then a world of trouble could open up for you…but you also don’t want to say no. They haven’t done anything to make you feel uncomfortable or uneasy. “Just an hour,” you decide. “I’ll take a beer.”

You slowly place your bag within arm’s reach and sit between them, keeping your thighs clenched tight together and your hands in your lap. You sit rigidly, unsure of what to do. “I didn’t think you drank,” Dabi comments, sounding interested. “You don’t look the type.”

He pops the cap off of the bottle with his teeth before handing it to you. “Ignore him,” Choso says, smirking at his friend. “He teases, but he’s got a thing for the glasses.” You take a sip of the beer to calm your frazzled nerves, the different scents of the two men—cologne, cigarettes, some kind of spicy-smelling soap—mingling into one intoxicating mixture.

“You mean nerdy girls,” you correct him, cracking a smile. “It’s okay, I know I’m a nerd.” Choso laughs, taking a sip of his beer. “Nothin’ wrong with that. I think it’s cool.”

His cheeks glow with a slight blush that somehow turns you on. Dabi snorts from beside you, gently sprinkling crushed weed into one of the papers on the coffee table. “You mean hot. Don’t try to front.” Choso gives him the finger. “Shut the fuck up and roll the damn blunt, asshole.”

Dabi gives him the bird right back but continues to roll his blunt. You watch his fingers expertly work to pinch, roll, squeeze. You would think he’d be good with his hands since he’s a guitarist. They’d probably feel so good inside of you, curling up against that spot that would make you see stars.

“Wanna hit?” he suddenly asks. You blink, realizing that he’s talking to you. He holds the blunt between his forefinger and thumb, smoke billowing from between his lips. You grow hot suddenly, both out of embarrassment for fading out on him because of your dirty mind and uncertainty. “O-Oh, I’ve never…”

Dabi’s brows raise. “You never had weed before? Not even an eddy?”

It doesn’t take a village idiot to figure out that he means an edible. You slowly shake your head, glowing with embarrassment over your squareness. The guitarist breaks into a humored and interested smile like a wolf who realizes he’s got his prey. “Well, shit, aren’t you proper. We’ve gotta fix that.”

“Dabi, don’t corrupt her,” Choso barks. “She’s still our babysitter.”

The guitarist shoots him a bored look. “And she deserves some relaxation after a long, gruelin’ day.” He turns to you, his blue eyes a sea of sin and hot promises. “Don’t you, bunny?” he whispers before puffing on the blunt.

You watch him wrap his lips around the blunt and his cheeks hollow as he inhales. When he pulls away, he puckers his lips and sends an O-shaped smoke ring floating out from between them as well as releasing a steady stream out of his nostrils. He then turns and hands it to you.

With a gulp, you take it and hold it to your wavering lips. You look at Choso for help who is happy to assist with his words: “Inhale slow, hold, and then exhale.”

You do as he says and wrap your lips around the blunt before slowly inhaling. As soon as the smoke invades your lungs, you hold it and then slowly exhale. Though you cough a bit, making the bandmates laugh, the weed already takes effect and makes you feel light, fuzzy, and warm.

“Good girl,” Dabi draws, watching you with a rather predatory gaze. “So she listens, too.” Choso watches you too, creating a very uncomfortable feeling for you in your stomach that you stupidly try to squash with some more beer.

“S-So…uh, tell me about your show tonight,” you stammer, wanting desperately to change the subject and take this situation somewhere less risky.

They respect your decision and tell you about their night playing in a small, sweat-and-alcohol-soaked bar. They also talk about you, asking you about classes, work, your hobbies. You initially feel uncomfortable talking about yourself, but the more you drink and the more you puff on Dabi’s blunt, the less harder it becomes.

You should’ve stopped at one puff. You should’ve stopped after a few sips of beer too. But it’s too late for you now. The weed and the alcohol work their magic on you before you even realize it.

Everything around you feels fuzzy and your skin feels tingly. Choso and Dabi’s voices are thick in your eardrums which feel as if they are stuffed with cotton. You can’t quite comprehend everything they say because they sound so far away and your brain is processing everything at a glacial pace.

You slump against the couch, your eyes fluttering closed and your head feeling heavy. You want to sleep. You want to shut off the movie playing—some 90s slasher flick that Choso put on—, stick your head under the covers, and be plunged into darkness. “Y/N?” Choso asks. “Baby, you still here with us?” He is suddenly closer to you, his hand on your knee. It feels warm and makes your body tingle…especially one part in particular.

Dabi sounds closer too. He’s actually moved closer to you and you just didn’t realize it. When you open your eyes to stare into his piercing, blue ones, he smiles. “Ooooh, the weed’s got her,” he chuckles. “Look at those eyes. She’s gone.” Choso stares at you worriedly, keeping his hand on your knee.

In contrast, Dabi is more daring and lays his hand on your thigh. The surprise contact causes you to giggle, nervously and shyly. The weed has created a thick fog around you where everything feels good and nice. “You’re both so pretty,” you deliriously say. “So sexy.”

Despite your sluggish mind, you know you weren’t supposed to say that. Choso and Dabi share a look, one that you can’t identify. The guitarist smirks at you, his hand trailing farther up your thigh and giving it a firm squeeze.

“Oh, yeah, baby? We think you’re sexy too.” His other hand moves to cup your chin, emitting a small gasp from you. “And pretty…so goddamn pretty.”

His thumb gently pries your bottom lip down, showing him your teeth. He watches intently as the plump flesh pops back into place, his pupils dilating at the sight. He is so close…too close.

You don’t know what to do. Your heart hammers rapidly against your ribcage as he leans in. Or do you lean in? You can’t remember quite well when his lips are on yours.

You squeak in surprise, your shoulders tensing. It’s the only movement you can make with his hands on you. You’re like a terrified rabbit frozen in place as his hand grips your jaw, keeping you still as his mouth envelops yours. His lips are soft yet rough and demanding, practically bruising your lips as he kisses the lipgloss off of them. His piercing is cool against your tongue which swirls against his, only because he demands it. You felt it swipe against your bottom lip at one point, forcing himself inside of your mouth.

You’ve never been kissed in such a way before. Dabi takes and takes and takes yet forces you to take what he gives you. His hands find your ass, trailing up underneath your skirt, drawing a soft moan out of you. “You like that, baby?” he murmurs against your lips. “I knew you wanted this. It was just a matter of time.”

“Mmm-mmm.” This is all you can say or even utter as his tongue dances with yours, giving you a taste of his piercing dug into the pink muscle. His hands squeeze your ass so hard that it hurts, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. You’re helpless to stop him.

You become even more helpless in the situation when you suddenly feel another set of hands on you caressing your body. “Don’t be fuckin’ greedy, Dabi,” Choso growls. “This is my house, remember?”

Dabi pulls away and gives his friend a cocky smirk just as Choso’s hand presses against your cheek. He turns you to face him and his eyes, hooded from the weed and lust. “C-Choso…”

All you can utter out is a soft exhale of his name before his lips covers yours, swooping you up in a hot, wanton kiss. His kiss is less rough than Dabi’s, but it’s just as sloppy, your tongues hotly swirling with each others. At one point, Choso sucks on your tongue and stares into your eyes as he does it, leaving you a panting, wet mess.

“You taste so good,” he whispers. “I’ve been wantin’ this for so long, baby. You have no idea.”

His hands cup your cheeks, bringing you in for more. You find yourself pressed against him and Dabi both, their bodies like brick walls trapping you between them. “I think she has too. Why else would she wear such a slutty lil’ outfit?” His hands trail up your bodysuit, cupping your tits over the fabric. “I bet you wore this just for us, didn’t you, slutty girl?”

He begins roughly massaging your breasts, causing goose pimples to explode over your skin as Choso kisses your neck. You whimper at Dabi’s degrading words. “I-I’m not a—“

You’re cut off with your own gasp as Dabi pinches each of your nipples through the bodysuit, sending sparks of pain throughout your nerve endings. “Shut the fuck up,” he growls. “That’s what they all fuckin’ say until they’ve got a cock in front of ‘em…and I bet that’s what you really want, ain’t it, bunny?” He leans in and trails his tongue down your neck, creating a line of his saliva on your skin.

A soft moan escapes you as Choso begins playing with your left ear, gently nibbling along your earlobe. Dabi follows suit and plays with your right until both of them are teasing your ears with kisses, licks, nibbles, and moans that have you squirming between them.

Your body feels like it’s overheating and your pussy…you’ve never been so wet before. Is it from the weed? The alcohol? Them?

Choso trails a hand between your thighs, prying them apart to get a feel of your panties. “You look so cute in this costume, baby…so fuckin’ cute.” His index and middle fingers press into your panties, making your toes curl. “Choso, please,” you whine.

He pulls away from your ear, staring deeply into your eyes. “What is it, baby?” he asks. “What do you need? You want us to stop?”

You blink at him, overwhelmed and hornier than you’ve ever been in your life. “I….I….” You don’t know what you want or need. You want to leave, but you also don’t. It feels wrong, but also so right.

Dabi disagrees, yanking the straps to your bodysuit down. You yelp as your tits fall out and are exposed to the two musicians who ogle at them. “Her body ain’t sayin’ no,” he chuckles. “Check out these tits. Look at how hard these nipples are.” He begins to slurp your nipples, his tongue and teeth running over the sensitive peaks.

You gasp, biting your lip as Choso begins stroking you through your panties that continue to secrete moisture. “Fuck, babe, look at you,” he sighs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “You need attention, don’t you?”

Dabi bites your nipple, sending shocks of pain throughout your body. “Ah!” you cry out. “W-Wait! Yuji might hear us!” Choso chuckles, still stroking, “He won’t. That kid can sleep through a murder.” Dabi tears himself away from you, glaring. “Now shut the fuck up and open your legs for us.”

With your nerves frazzled, you slowly open your legs…with some help. Choso and Dabi’s big hands pry you open to reveal your soaked panties underneath your skirt. “Just as I thought,” the guitarist tuts. “Look at how wet she is for us, bro. She barely knows us and yet, here she is with a soaked fuckin’ pussy.”

He pries your panties to the side, revealing your puffy, pretty, wet cunt to them both. You gasp as the cold air hits your sensitive skin. “Wow, baby,” Choso says in awe, his eyes slightly wide. “You’re so, so wet for us. Good enough to taste.” He sucks on his index and middle fingers before proceeding to gently rub your clit.

Two other fingers do the same, rubbing up and down your slit. “Good enough to eat,” Dabi adds. “You’d love that wouldn’t you, bunny? You want the big, bad wolves to eat you right up, don’t you?” He sinks his fingers into your pussy, just stopping at his fingertips.

You moan, gripping the duo’s big, beefy arms for dear life as the two play with your gushing pussy. “Fuck!” you gasp. What else can you say?

Dabi tsks disappointedly, teasing you further by curling his fingers up. “That ain’t an answer, baby girl.” Combined with his fingers shallowly fucking you and Choso rubbing your clit, you can’t process anything but how good you feel. “Yes! Yes, please!” You whine, your toes curling in your Mary Jane’s.

Like a killer who has caught his next victim, Dabi grins. He slides his digits out of you, sucks your wetness off of them, and slinks off of the couch to kneel in front of you. “Keep these fuckin’ thighs open,” he demands, eyes glaring into Choso’s. “I don’t want her doin’ shit while I’ve got my tongue in her.”

Choso grips your left leg and pins it open while Dabi takes the right until you’re completely open and exposed to Dabi’s pierced tongue. “Look over here, baby. Look at what you’ve done to me.”

Choso turns your face to meet him where he is fumbling to unzip his pants with his other hand. You watch him peel down his briefs to reveal his happy trail and a very hard, very pretty, very much throbbing and dripping cock.

Dabi nips at your thigh, scowling at you. “Well, don’t just leave him like that,” he scolds. “Stroke that dick. Take some fuckin’ accountability.”

With a shaky hand, you wrap your hand around Choso’s cock and begin to stroke it while Dabi begins to sloppily eat your pussy.

You and Choso moan at the same time, both of you overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure you’re receiving. Dabi’s tongue is skilled, teasing your folds as he slides it along your slit and up to your clit. You stroke Choso’s cock in time with his bandmate’s tongue strokes, trying to focus on two things at the same time.

“Shit,” Choso groans. “You’re so good at this, baby girl, fuck…”

His cute face is etched with pleasure, his eyes hooded and his cheeks flushed as he stares at you pumping his cock. Dabi stares too, still slurping away at your cunt. When the silver ball in his tongue hits your clit, you jump and let out a squeak. “You like that tongue piercing, huh?” he cackles. “Such a little slut. You can’t get enough of this.”

As he dives back down and sucks on your clit, he gently begins to finger you, aiming upward as he strokes your walls. You toss your head back at the euphoric feeling, your brain growing fuzzy. “Watch Dabi eat that pussy, baby,” Choso coos. “But don’t get too distracted.”

You don’t know if you can help that. The way Dabi is sloppily eating you out and finger-fucking you is too much for you to not focus on.

You finally cannot take anymore and let every loud, bottled sound inside of you escape as Choso plays with your breasts and Dabi sucks on your clit. “O-Oh, my God!” you cry out. “Fuck, fuck yes!”

The guitarist flinches, scowling up at you. “Plug up that hole, would ya?” He asks Choso, annoyed. He then goes back to fingering you, a slight, wet sound leaving your pussy as he coats his digit in your juices.

You suddenly feel a hand on your head and Choso’s deep, soft eyes are staring into yours. “Open wide, bunny. I’ve gotta keep you quiet.” He gently pushes you down towards his hard dick standing at attention for you. “You wouldn’t want Yuji to come down and find you like this, right?”

Instinctively, you open your mouth and cover your teeth with your pillowy-soft lips to avoid scraping Choso as his cock sinks into your mouth. “No ‘cause you’re a good girl,” he pants. “You’re my good, sweet fuckin’ girl. Fuck, baby, your mouth is so good!”

He proceeds to fuck up into your mouth, using it as just a fleshlight. A toy. And you allow it. Drool drips from your mouth and down his balls as he continues to assault your mouth, soon sinking deeper and deeper into your throat. You gag a few times and nearly feel triggered to throw up, but you just remember to breathe through your nose. Breathe.

Soon, it becomes easier for you to take Choso’s hard cock down your throat. Dabi watches, still fingering you. “Ooooh, she’s good at that,” he chuckles. “Look at her workin’ that mouth.” He hums in arousal to himself, palming himself between your legs, unbeknown to you. “Fuckin’ little cockslut is gettin’ me rock hard.”

Choso chuckles, his laugh breathless as he fucks your mouth like the hole that it is. His hole. Dabi presses a kiss to your clit, emitting a whimper from you. “Does our little bunny need two big carrots tonight?” he smirkingly asks. Choso pulls his cock, wet with your spit, out of your mouth, allowing you to take a proper breath.

“Oh, I think you do,” Dabi answers for you, “and you’re gonna fuckin’ take ‘em.”

He suddenly stands up between your legs, looking down at you as if you’re nothing more than a cock sleeve for his own use. “Get on your knees and look up at us,” he demands. You look at Choso for help, but he looks too lustful and sex-drunk to even begin to think about rescuing you.

On wobbly legs, you get off of the couch and sit on the floor on your knees. You stare up at Choso and Dabi, suddenly staring at two different cocks. Different in length. Different in girth. But still hard and throbbing. In addition, Dabi’s cock is pierced just at the underside of the head which drips in pre-cum for you.

You bite your lip as you stare up at them, kneeling in just your skirt, stockings, and shoes with your tits out, your pussy wet, and your lips coated in spit. The duo look as if they have fallen in love with you. Dabi cocks his head to the side as he slides something out of his back pocket. “Now that’s a sight.”

You close your eyes, humiliated and embarrassed by this moment, but also by how aroused you are. Your pussy has never been wetter than now sitting in front of these two men that you barely know, letting them see you naked and use you like a—

Click!

You open your eyes as a flash goes off and realize in horror that Dabi has his cell phone out. And he’s taking photos of you. “N-No!” you gasp, covering your breasts. “Don’t!”

Click!

Dabi rolls his eyes at you, still keeping the camera on. “Relaaaax. Nobody is seein’ this beauty but me and your little boyfriend.” He nudges Choso who is busy stroking himself at the sight of you, looking like he wants to eat you the fuck up.

He and Dabi get closer to your face, holding their cocks for you. “Nuzzle ‘em,” Dabi orders. “Put those cute little lips on us.”

Feeling like you have no choice, you do as ordered and nuzzle, kiss, and lick up their cocks. You bump your nose against their bulbous heads, run your lips down their shafts, and gently suck on their balls. The two groan in encouragement at your ministrations, hypnotized.

“You look so cute like this, baby,” Choso moans. “I need to see my cock in your mouth.”

He grabs your hair and, without warning, sinks into your mouth to fuck it dumb. “Fuck!” He groans. “You’re so good at suckin’ my cock, baby.” You have no choice but to breathe and let him do as he wants, your eyes watering from the ache in your jaw and your that button in your throat being triggered.

Dabi watches you, his phone in your face and the blinding, white light of his camera in your eyes. “C’mooon, you can fuck her mouth harder than that, can’tcha?”

Choso glares into the lens as he grips your hair harder. “Fuck you,” he growls but ends up fucking your mouth a little rougher anyway. You gag and sloppily gurgle around his dick as he pounds your throat like it’s your pussy, gripping your hair for leverage.

Dabi grins at his bandmate, enjoying the scene before him. “No thanks,” he cackles. “You ain’t my type, but this little doll is.” He taps his cock against your cheek to get your attention. “Look into the camera, bunny. You love bein’ our little toy, don’t you?”

You squint into the blinding light as Choso pulls his cock out of your mouth, leaving a strand of saliva in his wake. “Slutty little thing,” Dabi whistles. “Now it’s my turn. Get it on camera, will ya?” He passes Choso his phone before roughly yanking you towards his cock by your hair.

With a gasp, your mouth falls onto his cock. He is just as rough, aggressive, and desperate as Choso as he fucks your throat, pulling you back and forth like he owns your entire head.

“Deeper,” he growls. “C’mon, slut, take me deeper.” He sinks himself in deeper, nearly touching the back of your throat. Unable to avoid possibly throwing up, you desperately push at his hips to make him stop.

With a sigh, he pulls himself out of you, allowing you to take a breath. You sputter and gulp down air, unable to get it in your lungs fast enough. Figuring you’ve had enough time, the guitarist grabs you again for more throat-fucking.

“D-Dabi, wait!” you cough. “I-I can’t breathe!” But he doesn’t listen to you, instead plunging his cock in balls deep until the heavy things hit your chin. “Bunnies don’t talk, stupid girl. C’mon, you’re embarrassin’ me on video.”

He turns and smirks into the light as Choso records him plowing your mouth, his cock moving in and out of your throat at a fast, rough pace that nearly knocks your brain out of your skull. “You’re doin’ so well, baby,” Choso coos, gently tapping his cock against your soft cheek. “Such a big girl takin’ those big dicks.” He taps it once against your nose too, chuckling to himself.

Dabi wraps a hand around your throat and squeezes, tossing some rough into the mixing pot of sugar that Choso gives you. “Look up at me. Show me your eyes.”

You do so, staring deep into those blue orbs as his cock strokes the walls of your throat. “That’s it, my little bunny. That’s what I like.”

“Just remember to share her, asshole,” Choso hisses. “She likes my dick more anyway.”

Dabi lazily stares at him, squinting at the camera flash. “Oh, really? Then maybe she’ll be able to choose once we’re inside her.” He pulls his cock out of your mouth, using it to slap your cheek. “Turn the fuck over,” he growls.

Nervously swallowing your spit and his pre, you slowly turn around on wobbly limbs only to be hiked into position by an impatient Dabi: all fours. You feel his big hands on your hips, drawing you toward him. When you feel his cock slide against your pussy, you feel immense fear make your stomach turn.

Then he starts to push the head in. “Dabi, wait,” you gasp. “Condom! You need a condom!”

Smack!

His hand comes down to smack you hard on the ass. You flinch at the stinging pain. “I don’t need that shit,” he scoffs. “Now shut up and take this dick, little bunny.”

And then in he goes, sliding his full length into your pussy one inch at a time. Your mouth falls open as you feel him stretching you out, making his place in your cunt one stroke after the other.

He groans, his hips slamming into your ass a little harder and a little faster until he is fucking you onto his cock like you’re his toy, pulling and pushing you by your hips. “Much better than money, right?” he cackles. He leans down to bite your ear, tugging on your earlobe. “Bet it feels good. Bet it’s everything you need, right, bunny?”

You can’t form even one coherent word. Moans and whimpers are all you can manage as his cock drills into your pussy, emitting wet sounds like a moist macaroni and cheese casserole from his dick repeatedly pounding your cunt. Your head feels like mush, your tits jiggle, and you can’t get a grip on yourself.

“Too much!” you sob. “P-Please, Dabi! Slow down!”

He doesn’t, instead gripping whatever he can of yours—your jiggling tits, your stomach, your ass. “Shut her up, Choso,” he irritably grunts. “She’s killin’ my fuckin’ buzz.”

Choso moves in front of you, pushing his erect cock against your plush lips. “Shhh, baby,” he whispers. “Yuji is sleepin’. Just suck on my cock, okay, good girl?”

Before you can answer, his dick is pushing inside of your mouth. With a moan, he begins to fuck the side of your mouth, his head rubbing against the soft, wet wall.

The two begin to fuck you at both ends, using your body for their pleasure. Dabi grips your skirt, nearly tearing the fabric with his aggressively tight hold. “Fuck!” He grunts. “She feels so fuckin’ good! Gonna shoot a load in her soon at this rate.”

Your eyes widen at the terrifying mention of a creampie. Sure, you’ve always had a kink for that and maybe eventually, you’ll want to experience it, but not now. You can’t get pregnant! Luckily, Choso becomes your savior. “Switch with me then. I need my turn.”

Dabi chuckles, the sound sending shivers down your spine. Moaning in unison, the duo pull their cocks out of you before switching spots. Dabi takes your front while Choso takes the back, his hands massaging your ass. He presses soft kisses on your back as he rubs his cock against your soft asscheeks, almost rutting against them.

You look back at him, unintentionally making him harder as you stare at him over your shoulder. “Choso—“

You can’t finish the rest of your sentence because the drummer is already sliding his cock deep inside of you, sinking himself down to the hilt. He begins to fuck you almost immediately, grabbing your ass for leverage. You moan and whine at the feeling, unable to think about anything but how good his cock feels.

Choso uses one hand to fondle your tits while the other stays on your ass, massaging both sensitive zones as his cock massages your walls. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he moans. “Wanted to fuck this pussy for so fuckin’ long. All you do is tease me.” He grips your body to his like it’s his prized position, his hips hammering against your ass again and again and again.

Every time he slams into you, you’re propelled deeper and deeper into a hole of molten pleasure that you can’t crawl out of…and you’re not sure if you want to.

“Choso!” You whine. “Oh, my God, Choso, fuck!” His stroke game draws the loudest, most pathetic sounds out of you, only muffled by Dabi’s cock.

He laughs as he slides into your mouth as you moan around it. “Damn, you’ve got some pipes, girl,” he chuckles, biting his lip as he watches you suck on it. “Might wanna look into bein’ a singer. We might have an opening for ya if you can make us nut.”

He takes his cock out once and taps it against your tongue before sliding back in, proceeding to fuck your throat. Choso laughingly moans, still massaging your insides with his cock. “That won’t be a problem…ssshhhit, her pussy is so tight!” He lets out a shuddery breath as he slows himself down, edging himself inside of you. You can feel him beginning to swell, his cock growing thicker.

Dabi nods at him encouragingly, gripping your hair and forcing you to throat his dick. “Then beat that pussy up, man. Don’t fuckin’ slack—give her what she needs.”

And together, they do just that. They fuck and use your holes until you’re a gagging, whimpering mess, dripping from both ends. Your fake ears fall off and your skirt is ripped so tightly in Choso’s fists that you hear it rip. They fuck you as hard and as fast as they want to, taking you on a bumpy ride.

You feel your core begin to tighten into a knot and your clit swell the more Dabi teases it with his fingers. Your second orgasm is approaching quickly.

Choso must feel it because he focuses heavily on that spot inside of you, fucking it until you’re a puddle. “You gonna cum, bunny?” he whispers. “You gonna cum all over this cock?”

Your mind is blank, the pleasure too numbing. You can feel the urge to cum building, building, building. Choso pinches your nipples while Dabi swirls his fingers around your clit, the sensations getting you closer. “Mmmm!” You scream around Dabi’s cock. “Mmmm, pweeease!”

Dabi nods, pleased with your begging. He grips your hair tighter, forcing you to take his cock deeper. “Go ahead and cum with us, slut. We fuckin’ need it.” Choso nods encouragingly, still pounding your pussy with the intention of making you both cum your brains out. “Do it,” he begs. “Cum on that dick. Give it to me, bunny, please! Cum right fuckin’ now!”

His begging and pleading triggers something inside of you that immediately flips your O switch on. “Ohhh, fuuuuck!” you moan as you finally cum all over Choso’s cock. He keeps fucking you through each intense wave of your orgasm, extending it until you’re writhing and thrashing between him and Dabi.

“Oh, God,” Choso groans as your pussy clenches around him. “I’m ‘bout to cum too.” Dabi shakes his head, pumping his cock in your face. “Unless you want a baby, I suggest you follow my lead.”

Despite the feeling of disappointment as your heavenly cunt leaves him, Choso pulls out and takes his place next to Dabi. The two stand over you—little, pathetic, cum-drunk you—and jerk themselves off in your face.

“Not done yet,” Dabi hisses, damn near feral. “Look up at us, bunny. Show us that pretty face.”

Slowly, you do as he orders and stare at their cocks as they furiously chase their orgasms with their hands. Dabi cums first with a raspy groan that sends warm shivers throughout your body. His creamy, hot cum shoots all over your face and tongue that you slip out of your mouth to catch some droplets.

Choso comes next, his face flush red and looking oh-so pretty as his orgasm peaks. Finally, with a moan, he cums too. “Ohhh, fuck,” he groans as he sprays his load all over your tits. Some of the droplets also splash onto your tongue and on your stomach, coating your skin in the creamy substance.

Their muscles tense and their faces screw in pleasure until finally, the cloud of pleasure fades and they relax. Choso tilts his head back, eyes shut and looking winded. Meanwhile, Dabi takes his phone from the floor and once again puts the camera on you. You squint into the white light, wanting to cover yourself.

“That’s a pretty sight,” he sighs, getting up close and personal. “Now was that good, bunny? Did ya have fun?” He takes his thumb and wipes some cum away from your lips. “Y-Yes,” you softly reply.

The guitarist smirks, pleased with your answer. “Mmm, good girl. You look so nice with my cum all over you.” He makes sure to get all of you—your tits, your stomach, your pretty face all covered in his and Choso’s nut—on his phone. You have no choice but to sit in it…and your embarrassment.

You can’t believe you just got fucked by two men you barely know after babysitting their baby brothers…one of which is sound asleep upstairs.

Dabi finally turns off his phone, chuckling to himself. You don’t ask why. After fetching some tissues, Choso bends down on the floor to wrap his arms around you, using the tissues to dab the cum off of your body. “You did so well, baby,” he sighs. “You were so, so fuckin’ good.”

His big, strong, inked arms wrap around your middle as he drags you into his lap. He then picks you up and walks you over to the couch where he cuddles you, naked and satisfied. He gently strokes your back and kisses your forehead, almost making you forget all about your humiliation….almost.

And then you hear a knock. It is loud and it is abrupt. You gasp, jumping in fear. Someone’s at the door. Could it be Nanami? Is he home early?

Dabi, putting his undies and jeans back on, zips up his fly before sauntering over to the door. He peeks through the peephole and smirks at you. “Relax, girl,” he cackles. “It ain’t no trick-or-treaters.”

Despite the fact that you and Choso are still very naked, Dabi opens the door to reveal two more hot, tatted band members—one with long, wavy white hair and tired gray eyes and the other with spiked pink hair and vermillion eyes.

“Took you long enough,” Dabi scoffs, opening the door further. “Get your asses in here.”

The two strangers walk in, laughing to themselves. When their eyes lock with yours, they each smirk to themselves, menacingly. “Damn,” the pink-haired hottie laughs lightly. “Guess we missed the party.”

“Nah, you guys came just in time,” Dabi chuckles, tossing an arm around his white-haired friend. “We just finished up with her.”

The white-haired man tilts his head to the side, his eyes roaming over your body. “Tiny little thing. You two horn bags corrupt her already?”

Choso squeezes you to him, smiling at his friends. “Baby, this is Tomura and Sukuna, our bassist and one of our other guitarists.”

The two bandmates’ smirks grow wider, causing a twirl of fear and anxiety to appear in your gut.

Choso presses lips to your ear. You can tell he’s smiling. “They’ve got a thing for bunnies too,” he whispers.

THE END.

[otaku-tactician]

my extremely late realisations when replaying the demo 1.5 years later

touchstarved demo is PEAK! replayed it today. lol i had screenshots but im just rambling cuz WOW THE DEMO IS PEAK! 2023 me did not understand just how expertly woven this game was the first time around. Playing the demo for the second time exposed me to a level of characterisation that I was utterly amazed by.

The links between characters, the hints and rumors that give clues to their hidden and deeper aspects, the way in which every love interest has such deeply interwoven ties and know so many things about the mc is so entrancing yet strange- at times i wonder if they were even informing one another about the mc's movements, because some events felt very well-timed.

and then LEANDER!!!!!!!!! WHOA MAN HES SOMETHING ELSE!

the whole 'as above so below' for Leander's bloodhounds is really intriguing. as a popular occult/ alchemy phrase; it may have links to the arcane, and some perspectives treat this phrase as saying that whatever occurs in the celestial is repeated in the lower realms as well. and how vere states that Leander's BLOODHOUNDS are no better than the Senobium clerics which most are wary of; it may also double as a huge easter egg as to how depraved Leander may truly be.

However, this multi-layered phrase could be pointing to the truth of Leander's nature as well. Monsters enter the human realms from The Shroud, which could technically either be 'above' or 'below'; and the messy human realms may reflect those realms to an extent. Or, Leander may have more in common with Monsters than one may initially assume.

Maybe this message is trying to also state that humans and monsters are not so different, after all...

and lmao back to Leander with mc... how he comments on the mc's curse and its potency whilst blushing heavily, and even gulps from the exchange makes me wonder if he gets off on curses. and how he blushed when suggesting that the mc could tie him up makes me wonder if Leander is a masochist. i mean i do understand that the hand holding scene can be interpreted in an erotic lens, but his reaction is full of rampant desire in the second image.

(Also, I lack screenshots for this; but I finally understood what the other comments were saying about Leander being forceful- he does indeed push the mc when they refuse to accept his flowers, and he grabs their hand if they hesitate, really emphasising that Leander can and will push boundaries in the pursuit of what he desires.)

(wonder if his route will be very kinky)

omg also with how Ais tries the concoctions Leander cooks up and states to mc that it was chewy and possibly poisoned??? because Leander's trying to kill him?? that is the wildest confession i've ever read in hundreds of years. just the casualness of the entire affair, their rivalry seems light hearted on the surface but in the fact that a murder attempt is so simply brushed off - has me suspecting that their competition is possibly a deeply twisted affair deep down.

and another random point- how Kuras states that Leander's BLOODHOUNDS are just like him; people who have survived great hardship in the Lowlands- makes me wonder if the Senobium fucked with him or deeply betrayed him, especially with how angry the BLOODHOUNDS were with even the slightest mention of the group.

and it's so suspect that when talking to Leander about the other love interests, if the mc picks positive options for them, Leander always ends it off with a warning or comment as if to put the mc off them. but then he also has comments for his bedroom expertise with every LI which is such a riot for me personally like YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

(Then again his warnings for Ais and Vere are pretty apt, they are both dangerous- but so is he LMAO)

HOW DID I NOT SEE ANY OF THESE HINTS THE FIRST TIME AROUND!!!!!

omg and it's so cute how Ais and Vere TALK ABOUT EACH OTHER!! Vere becomes so vulnerable and unguarded and Ais could speak about Vere for days!!!

WAUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

GWAHH this feels so intimate, the way he wistfully recounts their experiences and memories. For such a sharp fox, he feels really fuzzy here... Barely any witty or cantankerous insults to be found about Ais from Vere's remarks. They seem so closely acquaintanced and comfortable with one another. It's very... sweet.

[choccy-milky]

Their kids are so cute omg i'm gonna dir of adorableness

lewis: then die LMFAOO NO BUT FRR THANK UU IM GLAD U THINK SO🥹🥹💖💖💖all the love for them (esp lewis) gave me the idea to draw him deflecting all the attention so ty for giving me the excuse to post it....we luv our aloof distant boi🥰

its funny bc i was JUST talking about this recently, but i dont like pet names at all BAHAH, hence why seb and clora dont call each other anything, not even nicknames.... seb calls her the light/princess/a bird sometimes as playful and teasing jokes, but doesnt actually address her like that. and clora always calls sebastian by his full name as well, bc i was basing her dialogue/my writing off the game dialogue...bc for as close as anne and ominis are to seb, both of THEM call him sebastian in full, so maybe it was a victorian thing that nicknames werent really common? plus clora's so proper that it just feels like its in her personality to always call seb "sebastian"... i feel like if she ever DID call him "seb" he'd do a double take and be like ...HUH? who are you???......are you polyjuiced? LMAO. i do imagine seb calling clora "love" when they get older tho (not in hogwarts) bc i like how simple it is, and imagining him saying stuff like 'careful, love' makes me🫠🫠🫠🫠

aw TYY💖💖 honestly i didnt give the victorian setting TOO much thought, other than making clora more modest/not used to wearing trousers etc. like the actual victorian courting process was that youd ALWAYS be chaperoned by at least 1 other person and you wouldnt be able to kiss or anything, so the fact that our mcs are in a co-ed school with free reign already ruins that, so i wouldnt worry too much about it. a lot of it you can just wave off with the excuse that wizard society is more advanced than muggle society, which is true anyway LOL. i just kept the parts that i thought were fun/made it feel victorian ENOUGH but got rid of the stuff that was too annoying (one big example being the amount of clothing they wear....i said it in the notes for one of my chapters, but i wasnt about to make seb go through like 5 different layers just to touch cloras titty LMFAO) and no i didnt have 1 specific website i used, id just google "blank in victorian times" and look through all the articles and resources i could on that subject, and take little bits of it. SO YEA i wouldnt worry about it too much, just take what you want if you think it could enrich your story, and leave stuff out if its annoying to deal with BHAHA. and GOOD LUCK WITH YOUR WRITING!!💖💖

BAHAHA yeah sebs bark was defs bigger than his bite when it came to actually having kids/getting clora pregnant LOL. he defs loves the pregnancy part, but i feel like seeing her go through the actual labour was super hard on him/made him feel guilty bc he hates to see her in pain, let alone bc of HIM. not to mention that i imagine he would still work even once they have kids, so to leave clora with like 6 kids by herself isnt something he would have wanted to do LOL. once both lewis and celeste are in hogwarts tho i actually imagine seb and clora still doing curse breaking as well (albeit less dangerous jobs/not as far away) BUT YES having a third kid that looks like seb and is sassy like anne would be SO CUTEEE...a happy accident is a good idea too, tho i kinda like the idea of it being cloras idea.....like, she gets baby fever again now that the kids are kinda growing up and sebs like no i dont wanna put u through that again... but obvs seb wouldnt be able to resist if clora was begging seb to put a baby in her LMFAOOO its already as good as done at that point😇😇 AND THANK YOU, and im glad you liked it!!!🥹💖💖💖

@the-kcm-muggleborn AWWW ur right thats so pretty.....ty for showing me!!🥹and im glad it make you think of clora...SHE WOULD APPROVE OF THESE STUDIES👌⭐🌙

[take-everything-you-can]

REQUESTING AS A FLEETWOOD MAC FAN

Everywhere - Fleetwood Mac

PLS

I Want To Be With You Everywhere 🖤

18+ MDNI LIKE FRFR GO SOMEWHERE ELSE PLEASE !!!

A/N : I'm so incredibly sorry this took so long but I hope it's worth the wait my love 💕 (1k celebration) also a special thanks to everyone along the way that helped me through the worst writer's block ! I love each of you so much 🖤🖤

TW: pet names, self doubt, sexual tension,mentions of food, oral(F), marking partners, unprotected PIV, anal , double penetration, multiple orgasms...

( not really edited all that much 😅 I'm so sorry if y'all see typos ... no you didn't)

WC: 4.3k

Pairing: Steddie x Fem Reader

A year you had all been together and Steve was starting to feel like he finally found peace. It was as if the second he caught sight of you and Eddie, he felt like he was coming home. A home that would welcome him with questions about his day and small chaste kisses to his cheeks. One on either side as he would stroll in from work. A home where he could lay his head across your lap and you would run your fingers through his hair. Eddie could be found sitting on the floor beside him. Close enough to where Steve could place small pecks against the skin beneath Eddie's ear. A home where he felt loved. One you had built together.

July was the hottest it had been in decades, according to the radio ads that came across the station, playing from that little box radio Eddie had bought Steve for Chritsmas. So hot that Steve was barely able to even make it to one of the chairs that sat next to his parents pool without being completely drenched in sweat, at least not the good kind. He hoped for nothing but a lazy day by the water, but he knew that the beach was too far out for just a day trip. So he opted for inviting you and Eddie over to his parents instead.

God what a mistake that was. The heat was making him deliriously frustrated.

He watched as Eddie let you apply the thick sunscreen, layer upon layer, to his pale skin.

“I’m not going to listen to you whine because you got burnt Eddie. Fear the sun Eds. Please?" A small chuckle was earned from the boy beneath your hands.

“Me ? Fear the Sun? I could never baby.” It sent blood rushing from his brain straight south for Steve. A slight pinch to the fabric of his swimming trunks to adjust himself. He could tell that just your touch affected Eddie. How It Made him shiver with every glide of your hands across his shoulder blades. Steve wanted so desperately to be the one under that grip. Hell he wanted to be the one doing the application, if he was being completely honest with himself. A curse under his breath was directed to himself for already putting his own on. A nervous knot in his stomach only grew as the day went on.

The sun had reached its peak and you decided to go inside and make some lunch for you all to enjoy by the poolside. A few sandwiches cut into small triangles for Steve and squares for Eddie. Humming along to one of the hits that had snuck its way into your brain that had played on and off throughout the day. You had started to put back all of the different ingredients you had used in making lunch, but as you shut the fridge door you stop for a minute. You were looking at an array of photos you'd seen many times in your visit to The Harrington's place.

You found one of Steve not much older than maybe seven, holding a trophy for winning a soccer game. The same trophy that sat in his room at the top of the stairs. You see another of Steve and Eddie from a few months before you had met either boy, one where Eddie's eyes shine as Steve shows all teeth. A green robe and diploma in hand, something he looked so proud of. A moment you wish you could have been a part of. The picture that holds you the longest is the one of the three of you and Robin at a party they had all thrown you for your birthday. One where you sat facing the candles of your cake as each boy on either side of you looked at you in full adoration and no one else. The moment you knew you loved them both captured in real time.

A glance up and you could see Eddie lapping his way around the pool as Steve laid out skin to the rays to soak up some color and make those freckles more bronze and prominent. Eddie Loved when Steve was kissed by heat. He loved that radiant afterglow that his skin held and the warmth that he could feel late at night under covers.

For a man who loves the cold Winter season, for Eddie, Summer days like this held a close second. Days where he could catch you watching Steve from afar. Days where he could wiggle his way between the two of you once the sun finally set. Days like this where he could just soak in the love that poured from both of you. The days that came with nights so peaceful he swears he could hear how all of your heartbeats were in sync.

Steve raises a hand to shield the sun from his eyes as he watches Eddie round the pool for the hundredth time in the span of a few hours. It amazes him just how much energy Eddie can muster even when the temperature is almost boiling. A slight twinge of jealousy is cut short by basking in all the glory that is his lover pushing past the surface of the water. Taking one of the hair ties he keeps around his wrist, Eddie slicks back his long locks into a sloppy wet bundle. He lets a few tendrils frame the outline of his jaw, and it leaves Steve yearning, straining even.

You make your way back outside with the food and a few drinks. Cold cuts and ice tea, an offering of relief from the heat. Eddie uses his forearms to lift himself off the side of the in-ground and out of the water. Steve already knows to throw a towel over the bottom of his chair where his legs once laid, as Eddie plops down ready and waiting.

Eddie's skin begins to dry as the sun heats his shoulders and Steve lets out a small hum from beside him, nudging him with his shoulder a bit. Swallowing the last bit of his sandwich. You and Eddie had grown to accept that Steve ate fast. Within the first few minutes, if food was placed in front of him, it was gone. While Eddie would take his time savoring every last bite, and you would graze. Always had a snack in hand whether it be a bag of chips, or a peanut butter cup. The perfect it couple you thought. One who eats too slow , one who eats too fast , and the other who keeps the peace, always in between. A twist to a Goldilocks story of your own.

A few drinks deep, from the wine the Harrington's kept on tap or for the boys beer Eddie had brought long ago and kept there on a bottom shelf. It was giving you a dizzy warmth from within, it had you gulping the ice cold tea down in minutes, and unfortunately your mind began to wander. It had you deep in your thoughts, a look out on the past year.

What were you bringing to this relationship?

How did an invite to a show get you to where you are now? An instant replay of the night you met your boys started a reel behind your eyes.

Your cousin Gareth had invited you to a show that was kind of a big deal, in his words. The band he was in had played for a few years and their hard work had paid off. A bigger venue had asked them to come play, and a bigger venue meant a bigger crowd. You were so proud of him for not giving up on himself, so of course you were going to make the drive up.

The second you walked through the door you were met with a smoky haze and a packed house. You hear your name being called from afar but as you turn you're pulled into a crushing hug.

Gareth was beaming from ear to ear.

"You made it !"

"I.. I can't breathe gare." He lets you go but his arm still holds you close.

"I'm so sorry. It's just been awhile… I missed you." You could have cried right there, because it had been awhile. It had been months. Months of nothing but going to work, coming home, and doing the whole thing over again. You had stopped making time for your friends, your family. You had even stopped making time for yourself, but you couldn't let those thoughts cloud this moment for him.

"I missed you too garebear. I'm so proud of you, this crowd is insane." There had to have been well over two hundred people in the place. Seats full and still not much room to stand.

"Isn't it though. I never thought we'd make it this far but Eddie knew, from day one he knew, lucky bastard. Anything out of his mouth comes true I swear to God" You laughed, if he was the one responsible for that shine in Gareth's eyes then you'd just have to buy this guy Eddie a drink.

"Come with me backstage real quick. I want you to meet the guys." You follow Gareth down a little hallway with a bathroom on the opposite wall of the door you were walking through. Glares from the woman in waiting as they saw you getting an escort towards the private area behind a security guy guarding the entry. A roar of laughter shoots your nerves out of whack. Why were you so anxious? It's not as if Gareth was leading you to slaughter. So why did it feel like the walls were closing in?

The second you turn the corner your eyes meet the two faces you're sure are the reason for your downfall. They have their bodies turned away from you but hearing footsteps enter the room they had both turned to look at who had come in. Breathtaking, these men were most definitely sent from the gods above, sculpted to entice the most prudent of Eves. They were as if one held the apple and the other tempted you to take a bite.

Both tall, broad shoulders. One with a glow of grace and the other swallowed in hellfire. One dressed in a complimenting sweater and the other in a divinely fitted tee. Pretty, simply put these men were pretty and you couldn't help but stare. Your heart had skipped a beat and your brain could barely seek refuge in the prying eyes of the other people in the room.

"This is Jeff, he plays guitar. There we have Grant, he is our bassist. That is-"

"I'm Eddie." He steps forward, the one with the long curls and amber eyes. "I sing" he practically yells as if the words he was saying were being pulled from him with a struggle."an- and guitar."

"And I'm Steve." You hear it come from the man with the soft looking lips and even softer looking hair. "I guess you could call me a groupee." You let out a giggle that nearly makes Eddie's knees give out and Steve's stomach flutters.

How do I get her to do that again ?

From that day on you knew you were gonna have these boys in your life whether you wanted them there or not. It was instantaneous, as if you had all found the missing puzzle pieces that would make you whole.

A call of your name and a grip to your thigh brought you back to reality.

"Huh? I'm sorry, what?"

"You okay babe?" Steve was starting to worry about how quiet you had gotten.

"Yeah , I'm okay. Are you ok?"

" I'm good. You just look lost in thought, that's all honey." You give him the best smile you can as you sit, letting the sun work its way into your skin.

"You might need some more sunscreen." You say to Eddie, there was no way he hadn't washed it all off doing laps. You lean to the side your bag is sitting next to and grab a bottle of spf, handing it to Steve. He raised his brow in question but you just smirked back.

"Don't think I didn't catch you ogling us earlier when I gave Eddie the rub down. Go ahead baby he needs it unless you want to be the one rubbing aloe on him every few hours?"

"You say that like it's a bad thing." A small smirk to his grin and a flush to Eddie's cheeks.

No protest, Eddie turns his back towards Steve and he waits patiently. Like a good boy, one that deserves praise for listening so well. Most days the brat in you and Eddie would send Steve up a wall, but today Eddie seemed content. You just chalk it up to the sun draining his energy but you are far off. Eddie is content because you and Steve catering to his well being fuels his fire. One he's been raking the coals of all day.

Eddie was waiting for that harsh coolness of the lotion but it never came. Unlike you Steve put some of it in his hands and warmed it with a small lather before bringing it to Eddie's skin. Steve first left a massive handprint and in turn you said the words that neither boy expected.

"It looks just like the one on your ass Eddie." A blush had made its way to Steve's chest and Eddie's ears were on fire as a choked sound came from the back of his throat.

Did it really? Eddie had noticed the large handprint that was left behind, as it had started to purple and was outlined in that grayish yellow, In the mirror a few days before as he was stepping out of the shower. The first glimpse had sent his stomach into summer-saults. A rush to the kitchen to find you and Steve, y'all had been trying to figure out what you were having for dinner.

"Did you see this?" Eddie turned to show you both as you let your jaw snap shut and Steve let out a small wolf whistle.

"Someone got you good hunny." Eddie turned clutching his towel to the front of his body as his hair flew and eyes widened. Giggles left the both of you as he stomped backwards out of the kitchen.

" oh you both just wait, you think this is soooooo funny. You know I have a shoot tomorrow! I'm gonna get you both back so good. Just wait and see." As he left the room you turned to Steve who was already waiting for the high-five coming his way.

A swipe over the lotioned handprint made Eddie shiver as he retreated back from the memory.

"I don't know when and I don't know how but trust me, revenge is most definitely on the way."

"Eddie, I bet it made the pictures for the magazine amazing." A slide of his tongue across his teeth and you knew you were right.

He and the boys of Corroded Coffin had made a small name for themselves, and they were ever growing, and had scored a small interview for Rolling Stone. Jeff had suggested a partially nude, face turned, asses out while holding their instruments picture. You and Steve knew what needed to be done. Eddie was never mad in fact it turned him on even more knowing the world was going to see just how hard you both loved him. Proof not only to the world but something simple he could cut out and hold onto.

"You think we should put it in the Christmas card collage." A loud laugh from Steve as Eddie turned to face you with his jaw dropped.

"Absolutely not. Wayne would keel over, no way." You lift off your chair leaning forward to grasp his jaw in your hand a small squish as your lips meet his.

"Whatever you say baby."

"Alright now I'm starting to feel left out." A little huff from Steve, but Eddie stands and offers his hand.

"C'mon, come swim with me before the firefly's start coming out."

You watch as the boys start an all out splash war. Giant toddlers you swore. A small laugh escaping you every time Steve played dirty and fully dunked Eddie under. A smile to the way Eddie's dimples caught like his tongue between his teeth. You made your way to the shallow end of the pool. Where a few steps led you into the water deeper and deeper the farther you got.

Sitting on the first step your lower half makes contact with the water. From where you were sitting the view of the sky was the perfect shade of ombre pinks and purples. A cotton candy swirl to end an almost perfect day, but you were still in your head.

What do I bring to the table? It's not like I'm doing anything important with my life.

Am I doing enough? It's like I'm taking far more from them than I give back.

Do they know I love them with my whole being? I think I'd cease to function without them. Ever since that day I have set eyes on them. I knew right then I was a goner.

Do they know that I'm nothing special? What's so special about an average looking woman, in her late twenties , doing god knows with her life. Why me? It echoes through once more, really delivering that final blow.

Why me?

Humming, you hear it. You had closed your eyes when you started to tear up. You throw your head back hoping the tears will dissipate before the boys notice, but the humming. It's far too close.

"Hunny, what's got you upset?" Steve watches as the tears you so desperately try to hold back find their way out the scrunched corner of your eyes as you roll your head to your shoulder. Eddie had stopped humming the second he saw your body tense in the way he knew far too well.

Steve had gathered you onto his lap as Eddie had found your hands in yours, taking a seat on the lower step beside you. They waited for you, so patient and kind. Two more reasons to tag onto the longest list in history. The reasons you loved them.

"It's ok baby, whenever you're ready." A small hum from your throat as you lifted one of your hands out of Eddie's grasp and found its home on his cheek. One he gladly always sought out, leaning into your touch. Your other hand found its way around Steve's arm, gripping as the tears became adoration for your men. The ones who stopped their own worlds from turning just to fix your own tilt.

"I love you." A statement, loud and proud. Something you often said to each other as a single statement. What was loving one without the other?

You didn't know. It was as if it had always been both, for each of you. A silent knowledge.

"Which big feelings?" Steve asks, hoping he can sway the answers you've already given yourself.

" A little sad, mostly questions about myself, about us. Confused, and honestly just a little bit meh."

"Meh is a good start. We can work with meh, even kSad , and hell I'm Confused ninety-five percent of the time. What's got you feeling these big three?" Eddie, sweet Eddie said, searching for comfort in you.

"I don't know , nothing specific happened. It's almost like I love you so much that my brain can't handle what my heart already knows. Does that make any sense?" Looking for understanding from both men, but you find certainty. You find amber eyes and dark curls. You find irises colored like chocolate melting in the summer heat with beauty marks you've lost count of. You find that none of your doubts in yourself have ever even crossed their minds , not for a second.

You find a devil's smirk, and a devious smile. You find that they are sharing a secret conversation to have you end in ruins.

"What?" Your eyes dart back and forth as you feel Steve's grip slip around your rib cage as he holds you hostage. A deep giggle from him has your spine tingling from the breathing he huffs out below your ear.

"Ed's I think we need to show our girl how much we understand. What do you think ?"

"I think we definitely should." A lunge forward to capture the thickness of your thigh has you trying to squirm out of Steve's hold.

"No! Eddieeee No! Please." But Steve's grip never faults, even with all your twists and turns in protest. That slight hint of anticipation in your voice has Steve hard, letting all the friction of your body sliding across his lap in delicious momentum. His release mounting far too quickly, a long time coming , being edged all day by just looking at you and Eddie.

Eddie has been dying to hear you all day. Knowing the sun would weaken your defense so he could handle you just the way you liked him to. To have that overpowering strength to hold your legs open and keep them that way until he got his fill of you. To have you moaning at the slight pain in overstimulation as his tongue attacked your clit until tears formed and slid from the corners of your eyes. Tears of bliss instead of confusion.

He looked up at you through dark lashes meeting your half hidden lids as your high took over , unable to move while Steve held you in place. Your body lifts in an arch as your eyes find their way back into your skull as your vision blossoms of white static and red vessels.

"Isn't she beautiful Stevie?"

"She's god damn gorgeous." His grip on you is no longer a stronghold but he keeps you seated against him, straining against the fabric of his swim trunks.

Small huffs begin to leave your mouth and your chest begins to rise and fall easier as you crack one eye open into a squint.

" There she is ."

"Hi." Steve starts to leave small kisses up and down your jaw.

"Hello , is this heaven?" Eddie burst into full laughter, loud and giddy.

"No but it feels that way sometimes doesn't it ?"

"All the time." Steve answers and you feel it , him.

A shift of your hips back against Steve has him groaning in the crook of your neck.

"I need it."

"You need what? Say it baby."

"I need you to fuck me." He nibbles at your shoulder as he glances at Eddie, who is biting his lip in anticipation for all the ways Steve could turn this.

"You think you can handle us both right now?" He leans up whispering the words into your neck as you shiver and nods as the goosebumps travel down your spine and mingle with the ache in your core.

"Words."

" I can handle both of you. I promise. Please ?"

"Well baby since you asked so nicely I don't see why we can't give our good girl what she wants . Right ed? "

" You are correct sir." A twinge in his eyes as he finally releases himself from his swim trunks and you feel his massive cock stroking the rim of your ass. You let out a deep moan as his thumb prods against you letting you feel the slight stretch. One you had grown familiar with and started salivating at the thought of the stretch that was still yet to come.

Eddie watched as your eyes fluttered close as Steve messaged his fingers within you letting the other hand play with your breast. Eddie found his dick in his hand as he watched the two of you getting off on just the sight alone.

"Please Stevie , more" a sound came from the back of Eddie's throat as he heard Steve grunt at the tightness of your hole. A strangled moan from Steve as he slides himself in completely. A grip on your shoulder that will ease when you can move.

"Fuck you guys are hot." Eddie can't take his eyes off of you and Steve. Entranced by the look in his eyes you barely register that Steve's grip lets up. You slightly move yourself off of him and slam back creating a rhythm that becomes a bounce. But it's not enough.

"I need more."

"Fuccck mee" Steve holds your hips slowing the pace as you open your legs a bit wider so Eddie can fit just as snug as Steve is.

Sliding his cock through your folds Eddie tells you to take a deep breath and he slides in easily and it feels like he knocks the breath right out of you.

Both boys have you feeling full and both find a rhythm soon that works together sending you straight into your second orgasm.

Overstimulated Steve can't hold it any longer as he spent all afternoon building this frustration he is finally letting go and as he shoots his ropes of thick cum into you , your cunt begins to clench around Eddie who is not far behind as your grip tightens in his hair.

"Your body was just made for us wasn't it love?" Just made to take cum huh?" His praise of you makes you tighten around his cock he comes undone in a thrust not far behind Harrington.

"God damn babygirl, you look so good all cock drunk and dumb." You can only nod in agreement to whatever he says and Steve kisses you on your temple as he motions for Eddie to come close so he can do the same for him.

You start humming. It's something you do sometimes after you've cum so hard your brain stops. Like a second nature your body responds instead. You start humming.

Eddie begins to hum along knowing the song since it's played over and over again as the day draws on. Neither of you expected it but Steve began to sing the lyrics a perfect end to a perfect day . " I wanna be with you everywhere…."

[doshmanziari]

Shadow of the Erdtree: Some Reflections

Well, folks, since no one asked, here are some thoughts I've had while exploring Elden Ring's add-on, Shadow of the Erdtree.

The existence of an alternate shadow realm has solidified my conviction that what Elden Ring is depicting on micro and macro scales is the phenomenology of etheric bodies -- extending even to the moon, the double of which is visible from the Moonlight Altar plateau (this is reflected by Rellana's Twin Moons spell). Each of these bodies possess a regulating function. Although each might be generally described as doppelgänger, the occult scientist Rudolf Steiner wrote of the Doppelgänger proper as its own sort of body, responsible for the tension between aspiration and temptation. It's interesting to me that this is such a major preoccupation of the game, because it indicates a layer of esoteric involvement, on the part of Elden Ring's narrative conceptualizations, that I don't think anyone in the so-called lore community has picked up on yet. The shadow realm helps explicate the otherwise inexplicable Godefroy the Grafted, too.

Various details have also strengthened my impression that the revolt against Nature we see in Elden Ring is a revolt against motility -- motility being the ultimate enemy of utopia: a human conceptualization reliant upon infinite stasis. In the base game, I think we see this revolt most profoundly in the narrative of Ranni, who first abandons her own flesh and then strives towards the realization of an Age of Stars, that "thousand year voyage under the wisdom of the Moon." Although the Seedbed Curse represents its own revolt against Nature, it remains within the organic order. Ranni's vision is of the inorganic and remote. And I don't think it's unrelated that, in certain esoteric cosmological systems, the moon stands as most distant from the Absolute.

The colors of the landscapes and sky are amazing: vivid, autumnal, and strange. These palettes have only made me dislike the game's rain effect all the more, which does not deepen the arboreal colors (as it should) but drains all surfaces of color and sets them into a depressing, bland grayscale. To say that the rain is a part of why I consider Raya Lucaria to be Elden Ring's low-point in the realm of major level design could be seen as a trivial complaint, but visual drudgery will wreck even the best schemes; and Raya Lucaria is as far as you can get from that anyway. FromSoftware has done fine with types of snow (see, e.g., the Frigid Outskirts or Painted World of Ariandel), but I think they've yet to figure out rain, among some other graphical technicalities.

The forges are among my favorite instances of discrete level design, even if, or maybe because, they tend to contain only two or three enemy types, feature no bosses, and severely scale back the level of challenge. I happened upon one yesterday that I did find a little dull, but the other two were wonderful, brief, atmospheric knots, quiet sequences of colossal architecture, that sort of evoked shades of Stonefang Tunnel from Demon's Souls. On that note, I'd call special attention to the forges' theme music. The only other piece of music from the DLC that's gotten my attention is the theme for Belurat.

Plants are People, Too.

Torrent is just... a terrible inclusion for this game. It's maybe obvious enough to not warrant being said, but -- any design decision has to be evaluated on what it contributes to the system it's been set into, and Torrent adds nothing outside of the occasional, brainless convenience. I could maybe see an argument for Torrent's presence if he had some emotionally charged narrative integration, maybe like what Shadow of the Colossus did. Without this, Torrent is nothing but a tool which perpetually problematizes the overworld's scale (a bit too big, yet no fun to traverse at high speed) and trivializes all of its gauntlets on a potential and actual level far worse than anything the Spirit Ashes could ever do. Better to me would've been if the only way to use a mount were by defeating a mounted knight without killing their horse and then sneaking up to the runaway to gain ownership of it.

I'm finding the map much more engaging than that of the base game because of how it plays with abstractions and builds anticipation through that. One part of the map, for instance, shows a bunch of trees with red leaves. Reaching this place reveals these "trees" to be enormous red flowers. Another section shows pink, purple, and orange specks. What are these? And what are the gray, finger-like lumps erupting from the mass next to it? I've also found it tough to figure out how to progress from one plane to another because of how densely stacked and knobby the continent's features are, so consulting the map has been helpful in a way I rarely experienced with the base game's.

Love how much the Ancient Ruins of Rauh resemble The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, from the explosion of verdure, to the crude, architectural naivety defining the pseudo-Gothic structures.

With Shadow of the Erdtree, I keep coming up against an unresolvable simultaneity like the one mentioned above regarding the overworld. There's a lot of good level design to be found here among the dungeons, castles, and forts, yet the abundance and enormity of it all seems to have deprived the game of significant contrasts, and those special spatial moments, which I found much easier to locate and reflect upon with, say, Dark Souls or Bloodborne. Sure, the sky-piercing spiral of Enir-Ilim is a sight to behold; but soon enough the sequences of grand staircase upon grand staircase, great bridge upon great bridge, creates a perpetual climatic grandiosity that diminishes the very effect of a climax (and I'm not even sure that Enir-Ilim is the DLC's intended final location). Anor Londo or the Nightmare of Mensis could feel special because the qualities and features of their spaces stood apart from everything else. Elden Ring, I think, has gotten itself into a predicament by trying to one-up its internal material and all prior FromSoftware games through the enormity of its scale -- and challenge. More and more, I've been craving a new project from them that resets these terms of engagement, even while enjoying the consistency of the material at hand.

That's all for now! In time maybe I'll turn these thoughts to an essay for my Substack page, perhaps with a focus on the first two points.

[forgottenstarlightwishes]

[X] @second-wife-playbook

Warbie waited at his makeshift desk for the item to come back. The spool of thread was suppose to go to Earth but one of his coworkers had accidentally sent it to Hell or was it on purpose? Considering his current situation he would not be surprised if the mistake was intentional just so they had a reason to keep him in Hell or dismantle the Department even more.

It had taken a few months to work out the kinks with his small team back in Heaven, but the plan was they would forward the the less than desirable wishes down to him. Surprisingly Hell, had more readily available resources to piecemeal wishes. But today was different, an Earthlings gift had been sent to a resident in Hell and he nervously drummed his feathers hoping with all his might that the recipient wouldn't send some monstrous curse back in the return box.

His phone buzzed and the screen spat out the box. He quickly opened it and let out a startled squawk as he was immediately blinded by the light. He slammed the lid back down with a gasp tipped the box and opened it again, reached in and pulled out a-

"Fabric?! Oh! Oh nonononono!" He held the piece out and could see the careful needlework that had went into the piece. "They've already used it! Though that was incredibly fast. They must have alot of skill and...a lot of time, oh no but this is bad!" It was stunning and beautiful and the clouds that they had embroidered translated into a shifting series of clouds above. But that was the problem! He folded it and the light immediately dimmed.

He paced around the dusty old office for a few rounds trying to figure out what he could do. He could not possibly undo all the stitches and reclaim the thread nor could he send the piece directly to the human client. What to do? What to do? What to do? Then what felt like eons, an idea struck! He shuffled across his feathers and pulled out a needle. He didn't want to do it, but it was the only thing he could do to reclaim a part of the delivery. He slowly and carefully began to pick at the stitches until he managed a 3 strands of thread that Cori had cut to length. With a bit of magic he managed to smooth out the strands and reattach them, wind them back up onto a small spool. It wasn't as brilliant as the original, but it was still quite stunning. He looked back at the embroidered piece canted his head. He could not let this lovely piece go to waste. With a pen and paper he carefully traced the image, and holding his palm over the clouds, a dusting of the glimmering light transferred into the pattern. "Th-this might work. "He stammered and packaged both the pattern and tiny spool of thread into a small orb, addressed to the right person on Earth with a tag that read, [A rainbow that you can hide in your desk drawer.] With a tap, off it went streaking upward to the sky, very unlike how they would streak downward when he was in Heaven. Crisis averted. He knew how much effort his coworkers had put into that spool. It had taken them months to put enough energy to give it that effect. Warbie looked upward at the walls to the dusty old study where the lights danced like the northern lights. Maybe too much energy. "I should return this, but it is a little too bright, and its missing stitches now." he muttered with concern.

"Oh! What if I made it like...this." He said flying up to a shelf and pulling out an old antique double cover shadow box, then bringing it back down. He placed the embroidery piece down inside of it, then layered a thick piece of canvas above it, then closed the glass lid and stood it up. The little song bird warbled with a smile as he laid his head down for a moment to enjoy the now softened sky with the silhouette of a forlorn castle in the background, it now glowed a warm dreamy light rather than the harsh sunny one from before. He then closed it the final lid, hiding the light within and placed it back into the return box along with a note that read: ┈━═☆ To Our Generous Unintentional Client.

Thank you very much for your cooperation. You have blessed us with your skill and impeccable needlework. We did not have the heart to unravel all your hard work, so we reclaimed just enough thread for our client along with a small example of your piece. We realized we could not send back your piece as is after tampering with it, and we did not realize how bright it could be, so we have mounted it in this double lidded shadowbox to preserve your work, so you may view it at your leisure- and not get blinded, so sorry for the intensity of it. We hope it did not harm your eyes and you will enjoy this shadowbox.

If you have any questions or concerns please feel free to contact us, just swipe the comet on the letterhead."

Sincerely, Reed Warbie

Recollector : Department of Wishful Thinking

With a tap, the box was packaged into a silver orb with a star embellishment. "Back you go. Do make someone happy and not angry." He whispered carrying the orb towards his phone. He tapped it and in it went and back to Cori.

[ridersfm]

welcome to lyris, tahlia llywelyn, rhodes karstark, countess wistar & lio kanroji ! we hope you and altair & amaris will join us in defending the city and its people to the best of your abilities. thank you for your applications, mandi & caelum, please read through the checklist and make sure to send in your account within the next 24 hours

🐉     natasha liu bordizzo  &  cis woman  &  she/her     |     tahlia llywelyn, the crown princess & alchemist of lyris for the past thirty years. they're thirty, and known to be quite extroverted & endearing, but on a bad day they can be incautious & sardonis. within lyris, it’s common knowledge that tahlia is always reading alchemy books & practicing archery, and they do have any interest in being a rider.     |     either you had a book with your nose buried in it as you put one foot in front of the other or eyes in the sky watching the dragons flying around as staff tried to wrangle you in check until it was time to grow up. you were a child who stayed under the bed prepared to catch the monsters and under the bed until you hear the crown calling your name. you hid behind father and mother as you tried to not see all the darkness around but knowing the world you grew up in is a vicious place because its all you’ve known and maybe you don’t want to see such darkness anymore. eyes that burn with passion but can also turn cold with a single word. doing things well by sheer hard work and determination but fueled by spite.     |     mandi  +  27  +  she/her  +  pst

🐉     archie renaux  &  cis man  &  he/him     |     rhodes karstark, the city guard of lyris for the past eight years. they're twenty-five, and known to be quite determined & athletic, but on a bad day they can be aloof & stark. within lyris, it’s common knowledge that rhodes is always sword fighting & horseback riding, and they don’t have any interest in being a rider.     |     midnight is when you come alive as you make your way through the shadows guarding a home you've only known. sarcasm was always your best friend and easily rolls of your tongue. vulnerability hidden beneath layers of confidence and steel. silver ring clad callous fingers with faint bruises from years of training. heavy is the will one wears as a cap when a job means everything to survive.     |     mandi  +  27  +  she/her  +  pst

🐉     angela basset  &  cis woman  &  she + her     |     countess wistar, the judicial arm member bonded with altair for the past fifty - one years. they're sixty - six, quite a contrast to the nine hundred sixty - seven of their antlered white whip-tail. they’re known to be quite loyal and dignified, but on a bad day they can be kind of critical and harsh. if separated from their dragon, tessa relies on a double bladed polearm to protect them.     |     the dual blades of your battle worn polearm was born from tragedy, once existing as a pair of swords belonging to twin sisters, cursed when a single plunge baptized the two in familial blood. along the shaft sits a gilded engraving: "for nothing but death could reunite me with the one who shares my face. with every strike, with every blow, with the crack of armor and mask, i meet my match where space meets time at the edge of the worldline." it has tasted far more blood in your hands — the kind that has stained your hands red ; your warrior spirit will live on even when you perish, your legacy will immortalize you on parchment and in stone. your father may have met his end with a reputation corroded by shame, but you honor him with a bequest that transcends the stars that you’ve flown close enough to touch ; as a youth, you were discouraged to dream. your desires were yours to manifest and capture, to claw into until crimson beads pooled from the punctures. you've fought for so long, blade dulling just to be sharpened again. now, you take to your judicial thrown, your dragon sits at your feet and your hands quiver, hungry to wield steel once more ; there’s a darkness in your eyes, a heat to the blood in your veins and a thirst to be chosen for battle — one that will never die ; a countess birthed from the tarnished castle of a nameless king, your father taught you that victory grants entrance into a warrior’s solace. the sharpness of your eyes, even now, is a reminder of the warning you grace all that stand across from you. “I am Countess. Rider of Altair. And I have never known defeat.”     |     caelum  +  25+  +  they + them  +  est

🐉     mackenyu  &  gender non - conforming  &  he + they     |     lio kanroji, the squad 2 vice captain bonded with amaris for the past twelve years. they're twenty - seven, quite a contrast to the one hundred thirty - seven of their long horn black blade-tail. they’re known to be quite disciplined and diplomatic, but on a bad day they can be kind of aloof and strict. if separated from their dragon, lio relies on a crossbow to protect them.     |     you may have been born small, but you will die a colossus ; feet together and hand angled into a perfect salute, flying among the skies breathes life into a body that was once a shell, but you find true purpose when you join the ranks. living to serve, there’s no greater honor ; you’re the first to rise, first to the training grounds, first to finish your meal and first to leave the barracks. why is everything a race to you? why do you run like you’re running out of time? ; you’re hard on your squad, flipping them during training and bruising them with snaps from your wooden sword. you scowl at the moans for mercy and command them to stand. they need to be ready for all that approaches, they need to live and breathe and prosper once the dust has settled. otherwise, to walk through a battlefield soaked in the blood of your comrades is to admit that you will never escape the legacy of failure that you were born into.      |     caelum  +  25+  +  they + them  +  est

[mercurial-chuckles]

Hey there, thanks for putting together this lovely September Fest of Smut!

Sooo, how about Steve Rogers x scientist!Avenger!Reader and the prompt of "8) oops, we were just hiding in this closet, but then the close proximity get us too turned on not to fuck"?

Maybe they're on a mission? Or maybe they're just playing hide and seek in a silly party? Maybe they're avoiding the press (ohh that could add a fun layer of 'Oh my god we definitely shouldn't do this here but I can't wait')?

Could be an established relationship or a 'Idiots in Love / Mutual Pining' kind of situation, where... confessions are made and feelings are executed on?

Please no dark!Steve, if you do end up writing this. Very protective and slightly feral is more than welcome though.

No worries if this doesn't inspire you - in that case, let me know and I might take a swing at it myself! I hope you have a lovely autumn and thanks again for organizing a fun fandom activity!

(I'm also planning on writing a fic for the fest, it's in the draft stages!)

Hide 'N' Boink

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: This is my second entry to Smutty September Fest, and this fic is inspired by @stellar-solar-flare. Thanks for the amazing ask, Stella! I hope I did justice to your juicy request. Fair warning, I recently started dwelling in the realms of Smut writing, and it's safe to say, I am getting there! :D Eagerly looking forward to know your thots thoughts on this, love! Also, I'm super psyched to read your entry ;)

Warnings: Mature Content, Minors DNI. Smut, Fluffiest smut, Steve short-circuiting reader's head because he is hot AF. Sweet Steve, quickie, consent is freaking everything, 'tis just smut my dear hoes, some curse words. Lemme know if I miss anything.

GIF credits to the creators. Thank you :)

Unedited. Will edit as soon as I can.

Note: Do not Steal, Copy or Plagiarize any part of my work!

Check out my other works: Masterlist

Wanna peek more into their relation? Read Dear, Disparate Husband

Indulge Away!

****

You run down the stairs into the basement, hurriedly making as little noise as possible. The basement is cozy yet rustic, with exposed brick walls and wooden beams that give it a warm, old-fashioned charm. Your gaze settles on the massive antique wardrobe—your Nana's—made of dark, polished wood with intricate carvings on its doors. It is in the corner of the room, tall enough for someone to easily step inside, with deep shelves and hanging space for coats and dresses. It holds the scent of aged wood and faint traces of lavender from the sachets your Nana used to keep there.

You make a beeline for the wardrobe, thinking you've found the perfect hiding spot, stepping inside with a giggle, but you squeak. "Shh…," you heard the raspy chuckle, "It's just me," Steve says, and you turn around, shocked.

Through the light sifting through the intricate patterns of the double doors, you find Steve already wedged inside, his broad shoulders barely fitting between the shelves, looking ethereal.

"You're in my spot, Captain," you narrow your eyes at him. His broad shoulders completely cover your form as he crouches a little, and Steve's right side is cast in a beautiful glow from the warm light outside the wardrobe.

Fucking handsome little shit!

He leans forward, one large arm wrapping around the small of your back as he pulls you completely close, his hard, muscular body engulfing you in his warmth. He rubs your side, tickling you.

"Really?" Steve teases, smirking as he shifts to make just a sliver of space.

"I don't see your name written anywhere." He pushes your hair over your shoulder, rubbing your throat with his fingers; you teetered unsteadily, holding onto his chest. You clear your throat, getting your bearings right, and scoff at him exasperatedly. How dare he? You have ancestral rights to this wardrobe. You are about to say the same thing to him when a realization dawns upon you.

"That's where you're wrong." You state, prying out of his hold, and he reluctantly lets you. You crawl to the side, squeezing beside him as you pull out your phone to light up the narrow space.

"Actually," you say, pushing the coats onto one side and climbing onto the sturdy shelf. Steve was immediately behind you, holding your sides and firmly supporting you. "What are you doing?" Steve whispers, confused, but you ignore him and you aim the flashlight at the top back panel of the wardrobe, searching around. There it was, faint but still visible, your childhood scrawl etched into the wood. "See? Right there. I wrote it when I was six."

Steve leans his entire body onto your back to get a better view, and you feel yourself lean into him involuntarily. He squints his eyes a little and snickers, his deep voice rasping with amusement, tingling you as he nuzzles his slightly grown stubble onto your neck. You sigh in delight at his ministrations, letting out a small moan.

He places a small kiss before slowly turning you around, and you flail in his arms, but he carefully sits you on the shelf, facing him. You can see that stupid grin when he gets a one up on you adorn his face as he licks his lips, biting the bottom one, enticing you to pull it free, and placing both his hands beside you, leaning forward. He is inches away from your face, and your breath hitches.

"That's not your name," he says confidently. Despite feeling your belly tighten and the temptation to kiss him overpower you, you hold your ground. "It is so."

Steve shakes his head, moving close to your ear; he places a kiss right underneath and whispers, "Doll, you spelled it wrong."

"What? No, I didn't!" You retort.

"Pretty sure you did," he says, placing a small kiss on your cheek, his breath warm against your skin as he leans beyond your shoulder to inspect it. His smirk widens, and despite the playful bickering, the closeness between you starts to shift the mood.

You push him away slightly as you turn around to focus the light on the scribbling. Oh, he's right! It was not like you knew how to spell your own name when you were busy playing in the family closet that your cousins called the Narnia Closet as a kid.

"Well, I was five," you mutter defensively, realizing your mistake but refusing to admit it fully. Steve's teasing gaze softens, and his hand gently grips your waist; his other moves to your face, thumb brushing over the underside of your jaw in a way that sends shivers down your spine.

He chuckles, nodding at you as he lifts your chin and rubs his thumb on your lips. Your lips part in anticipation. He holds your gaze, and you look into his light blue eyes, which are illuminated by the flashlight.

"Besides," Steve whispers, placing a kiss on your nose. He pulls your chin upwards with a slight pressure, his fingers still caressing your chin. His lips ghost yours, tempting you; a sliver of heat settles in your core. "You are mine. So, if this wardrobe is yours, it is mine too," his words tickle as you lean up slightly, "Right, Mrs. Rogers?" he asks, and you nod like a bobblehead.

Steve can make you agree to anything, literally anything. He was the reason you were hiding in the closet, too. After the excruciating hours at work and a new coalition project with Dr. Banner and Dr. Cho, things had been busy. Steve went into Captain mode, adamant about you needing rest before getting all burnt out, and you agreed. So, the long weekend turned out to be an impromptu get-together with all your friends and their families joining you.

Tony cornered you, sharing the idea of a project he's been up to, and pestered you to take up responsibilities on the new project. One thing led to another, and you both got into the zone, discussing the possibilities. Steve had waltzed into the discussion, handing you a drink and coaxing Tony to take up barbecuing duties with Sam and Clint, successfully separating you both. The kids were having a blast and demanded everyone to play hide and seek. Steve and you, ever ready to entertain them, agreed to play with them while the other hung outside. That was how you found yourself in your husband's arms, delectably pressed to his muscular body in the surprisingly spacious wardrobe.

~

Steve leans forward, pulling your hair slightly, his own lips parted as he licks them once before kissing you senselessly. He breaks the kiss, and you whine, pathetically pulling him back. Steve shushes you, and that's when your sense of hearing comes back, and you are acutely aware of the door to the basement opening, and the stairs creak slowly. "Careful, sweetheart," you hear Scott's voice come from the hallway upstairs as he keeps a watchful eye over your five-year-old daughter.

Sarah shushes Scott dramatically and loudly. Steve was about to laugh, but you shake your head, turning the flashlight off. You both can look at your daughter through the tiny gaps, thanks to the patterns on the door. She squints her eyes as she combs through the room, the tiny bathroom, and even underneath the stairs. She stands in the middle of the room, her eyes crinkling just like her father, as she puts her arms on her hips, making you almost giggle.

"Dada…Ma…you there?" she asks sweetly, making you coo at how adorable she looks. You bite on your cheek, holding from making any sound, and you know the way Steve's shoulders slouch; he was ready to make a noise, wanting to be caught and let her win, but he doesn't make a move when she starts talking.

"Don't worry, I will not catch you, dada. You can tell me," She convinces, and you roll your eyes playfully as Steve winks at you, feeling like he's on top of the mountain. As much as she loves you, Sarah Winnifred Rogers was very much a daddy's girl.

"I will catch the others first," she continues to convince him, still looking around. She did try the wardrobe, but the doorknob was a little beyond reach. So, she moves away, and you both lean closer to see what she is up to.

She started dragging the wooden stool from beside the small settee, and your heart thuds, worried she'd fall. Steve turned the knob, creaking the door open slightly. A sudden laughter resounds in the hallway upstairs, and she gets distracted, giggling excitedly as she slowly climbs up the stairs. Your heart sighs in relief as she carefully reaches the top step of the carpeted stairs, and Scott shuts the door to the basement.

"She is trouble just like you," he sighs, taking a few deep breaths as he shuts the wardrobe. Steve's protective instincts shoot up to the next level when it comes to your daughter, and you don't blame him. She is adventurous, wild and a free spirit, just like you and her dad.

"Thought you would give away our spot, Daddy," you whisper innocently.

"I was going to, Mama," he rasps. However, there was a shift in his demeanor.

He chuckles darkly, pulling you impossibly closer to the edge of the shelf, and you hold onto his shoulders tightly, his muscles clench under your touch. He doesn't give you any warning before pulling you into another kiss, tongue and teeth; he devours you. He taps your legs, and you obey, winding them around his back. He rubs his bulging hard-on right against your clothed pussy, and you cry in delight.

"Quiet, gotta be quick," Steve groans as he rolls his hips deliciously into you, nipping your ear and lips, biting your jaw, and within a few thrusts, you are climbing into an orgasm.

"Steve," you whimpered as you felt his delicious onslaught of thrusts. "My needy darling," he grunts.

"Glad you brought snacks," he rasps, pinches your clit, "wanna fucking eat you out in this ancestral wardrobe," he says inappropriately, squeezing your tit and making your breath hitch. You hit him on his bicep, taken aback, to which he snorts, "Don't worry, I'll only fuck you… for now," he pushes down his boxers and jeans, and when he claws at your denim shorts, ready to tear them down, you swat his hands.

"Careful," you giggle, helping him out as you pull your shorts down without any damage, and he runs his fingers down your drenched panties, pushing them aside and cupping you.

"My sweetest girl," he whispers softly, so reverently, unlike his dominating touch. He moves his hand away to grab his leaking cock. He brings it close to your drenched heat, rubbing his cock deliciously up and down, giving you enough friction as he collects your wetness and slowly thrusts inside your heat, and you gasp at the sudden intrusion. The discomfort soon fades into pleasure as Steve sets a quick pace, huffing as he winds his large arm around your back and holds the side of your tit in his palm, squeezing the flesh. You groan louder than you intended. "Shhh," he mutters as he wraps his other palm around your throat, and you cry, looking at him with that innocent look that makes him feral every fucking time.

Steve abruptly stops. He pulls out of you, and you both hiss, and you cry in disbelief. He lets out a hoarse chuckle as he stands you down on your feet, holding you steady as your knees buckle unceremoniously. "Hands there," he demands, catching both your wrists in one of his palms and placing it on the side panel. He then motions you to arch your back as he holds your hip with the other. While slightly angling his knees, he quickly enters you from behind.

"Yes," you cry, your breath hitching at the new angle. You could feel everything in this angle.

"Nghh," he grunts, biting down on your shoulder as he thrusts into you deeply, with much more vigor, and your breath hitches as you feel another orgasm tumbling over you, teetering to the edge of pleasureful torture.

"Squeezing me so tight, my good girl," he groans into your hair. Steve glides his fingers from your wrists slowly to your throat, leaving a hot trail in his path, and his touch burns every bit of the skin he hovered over, leaving goosebumps. His thumb rubs sensuously on the side of your neck as he grips your throat with the utmost gentleness, and your eyes roll as you feel the pleasure right there.

"Let go, cum for me," he orders, angling you a little more and hitting the spot he knows will make your toes curl, and you do, biting onto your lip as you cry in pleasure, squeezing him. He lets out a low growl. "Ahhh…fuck, I love you," he cries out, almost pushing you into the side of the wardrobe, and you move your hand to hold the side of his face; his jaw clenches under your palm as you rub his cheek softly while your other hand finds purchase in his hair; his hips stutter as his thrusts become more sporadic before you feel the warmth filling you.

As you come down from your high, he softly carries you to the bathroom nearby and cleans you up. You were fucked out, completely and half aware as you listened to your husband coo, 'I love you's and how he loves to ruin you.

Steve Rogers was a closeted bad boy, indeed!

****

Wanna peek more into their relation? Read Dear, Disparate Husband

~

There, there...phew!

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[valthevalkyrie]

simple, unserious rant

back in december 2019 my hair was at its most beautiful. my corkscrew curls were shiny and juicy, and my hair had my dream shape, and my bangs fell so beautifully and layered so nicely. the few highlights i still had left over from a year past were some nice little accents. and I was able to maintain it until about april or may 2020.

from that point on due to being at home during the pandemic, i really didn’t let it down. i didn’t see if it was still as nice.

in august 2020 I caught covid and i had it pretty bad. double pneumonia, in the hospital for almost a week, and out of work for like a month maybe a month and a half. to this day, my lung capacity is not quite the same as it was and until the other day i had lost most of my sense of smell, and i’m only just now starting to regain some of it.

six months later, my hair started to fall out and my curls were dying.

because of the stress of losing my hair, which is my pride and joy (and literally the only thing I like about myself and even that I struggle to not find some flaw), i decided to shave off my hair. i was also having an insane amount of gender dysphoria. so, two birds, one stone.

i had never felt such a euphoric experience as when i shaved off all of my hair and walked out of that barbershop with literally the most interesting combination of colors on my head.

for about the next year and a half i not only dyed my hair about two more times with some fun designs, but i continued to shave my hair and i felt so comfortable and free.

as time went on though, i really did miss my curls and i missed having the security of a curl to play with when i’m stressed or nervous, so i decided to grow my hair back out. in march 2022 i did my very last design on a buzzed head for my birthday, and in april i did one last trim in order to start growing my hair out.

fast-forward two years and my hair has never had a health trim, had about 3 inches of split ends and the longest point reached past my shoulders, touching my upper back. it also had no shape whatsoever.

this past wednesday i decided to take it upon myself to at least trim off the split ends and see how much my hair would bounce back. mind you, my curls have not been curling the way they did before i got sick in all the time i've been growing it out (which is a very sad development for me because I absolutely loved the texture of my hair).

unfortunately, i ended up with a somewhat lopsided shape. nothing too bad, one side was just not as rounded out as the other (think circle v. triangle).

today after work, i decided to try and fix that.

big fucking mistake.

i have cut it in a way that i have never managed before in all the times i’ve trimmed and styled my own hair. once again one side is perfectly rounded and layered and the other side is this choppy, blocky mess that i genuinely don’t know how to fix.

it’s bad enough that i think i might have to shave my hair again.

which is i guess a blessing and a curse because i’ve been wanting to do something fun with my hair again and of the few things in my life that I have control of, my hair is literally number one (because it feels as though i have no control over literally any other aspect of my life).

so while i am very sad that i fucked up my hair again, i’m also pretty excited that after the trim on wednesday my hair bounced back quite a bit (the shrinkage is alive and well, thankfully). i think, had i given it the proper trim and continued maintaining it with the right products and care, it would probably be back to its former glory by my birthday.

although i’m going to miss my hair and my curls, i think i’m really excited for the possibility of shaving my hair within the next three days and dying it a nice fun color.

granted, i was never supposed to touch my own hair in the first place. i was supposed to save up enough money to go to a hairstylist. but that lady was asking for $230 that I don’t have. being a baddie on a budget, i thought i could handle it myself. and then, i thought i could fix something that i guess didn’t even really need to be fixed until i maybe went to the lady, because all I did was fuck something up even more.

all of this to say: wish me luck for the next week or so. we'll see how this little cut i've given myself presents itself and decide on shaving it from there. whether or not i shave it off completey, i'm stuck with really short hair again so it seems i am about to start another hair adventure sin querer queriendo 😅

[spartancommander-2874]

Once the hatch was open, the commander pushed herself out of the Dill and stepped onto the old road. A dust devil kicked up thirty feet away, taking leaves and other odds and ends with it until the wind died out. It felt eerie standing out there in the open like that. As far as she could tell, they were the only living things in this part of the city. Though those abandoned buildings could hide a lot.

Picking her sidearm up from its mag mount on her hip, Auri returned her gaze back to the observatory’s front door. She hoped it was worth the hassle getting out here.

She fell in with the four other soldiers as they approached the front door. It didn’t look like anyone had been to this place in ages. Why would they? It didn’t seem to hold anything of real militaristic value and didn’t look to be in a great place, strategically speaking. One of the first floor windows had been smashed to pieces and Auri used it to take a peek inside. The front door was haphazardly barricaded but it wouldn’t take much to push it open. She also didn’t spy anything that could spring a trap.

Placing her magnum back on its mag mount for the moment, Auri braced her good shoulder against the right hand door and pushed. At first, it didn’t budge but, after some applied pressure, and a bit of quiet cursing, she managed to shove it open enough to allow them all admittance. Auri cast one more wary look about their surroundings outside before entering the observatory.

It felt like she was walking back in time. To an era before the locust ravaged Sera. A drooping and faded yellow banner announcing some anniversary date hung by a few threads on the ceiling overhead. Papers were strewn about the floor with no rhyme or reason. People had left in a clear panic. A purse lay emptied of its contents. An old stuffed bear had been tossed facedown on the tile. And everywhere was a thick layer of dust.

Weak sunlight filtered in through the few windows that hadn’t been completely blocked out, causing dust motes to dance in the air. If she thought standing out by the road was unsettling, in here the feeling was amplified.

Just because it looks uninhabited doesn’t mean it isn’t, Auri thought to herself as they moved in further past the lobby. At least the signs were still up and there was a large directory right smack dab in the middle of everything. The Spartan strode up to it and found the giant red dot that notated their current position. Clearly, the telescope and its current archives would be stationed right up near the roof of the building but how to get to it…

“If we take the stairs on the left, continue past the children’s interactive exhibit then a right up another flight of stairs, it should be a straight shot to the roof. We’ll know more once we get moving. Maybe have to double back if one of the flights is out.”

@bigmouthgenius

This was supposed to be a simple smash and grab. Get the blueprints of the place, locate the objective, nab it and run.

In and out.

Easy enough, right?

Nope.

There was a security program that had been running passively in the background that not even the team’s AI had detected while pilfering the system and she had Forerunner code built directly into her matrix. Alarms began to blare loudly, alerting the Prometheans of offending intruders, once the data left its protective, holographic casing. Their fireteam leader quickly placed a hand on the terminal and green pixels flowed up her gauntleted arm and into a slot on the back of her helmet indicating their AI had come home. Without another word, the trio of Spartan IVs took off, wanting to be as far away from this place as physically possible.

Red blips began pinging off their motion trackers during their flight through the ancient complex and the digitized roars of anger echoed off down the halls. Their AI, Noesis, was still tapped into the local network and began to shut down the massive gray-white doors to cut off their pursuers or at the very least slow them down.

Evac was well on the other side of the facility in the form of a D79-TC Pelican dropship. Their pilot, Spartan Kent, had already activated the autopilot, calling the dropship in closer as the LZ was going to be hot by the time they got to it. A pair of beam turrets popped up in front of bulkhead doors at the end of one hall and began firing white-hot lasers at the fleeing super soldiers, forcing them off their current path and to take a hard right down another hallway to avoid being melted down to slag.

A Promethean Knight had sprung forward seemingly out of nowhere toward the Spartans as they attempted to dodge the turret fire and had nearly pinned their XO to the wall with its gun when it received a shotgun shell to the side of its head. With the creature down, they continued onward with their flight.

“Finally! We’re almost out of here!” came the Spartan to their XO’s left. Her IFF transponder marked her as Cordova, Caterina A.

“About time. I think we’ve really riled up the locals. Kent,” their fireteam leader replied then glanced to the right at their other squad mate. “Kent, once we get out, get that pelican ready for transport. We need to get the hell out of here ASAP before they call in for more reinforcements. Last thing we need is for the Storm Covies clogging up the air.”

“Way ahead of you, ma’am!” came her companion’s reply.

Just as they reached the last stretch, however, a Promethean had teleported meters away from the exit and brought an Incineration Cannon up to bear. The weapon began to charge, red light glowing like death. Right as the thing fired, their commander cried out, “Move it!”, before diving out of the way herself. The creature must’ve been in the local network as well as it was fighting for control over the doorways and cut the commander off from the other two. She rolled up onto her feet just in time to jerk to the side to avoid another blast.

“Commander?! Auri-?”

“Hey, you still-?”

“Get outside! I’ll meet you at the LZ. This place is going to be crawling with Knights shortly. I don’t want them bringing down our bird before we even get out of here,” she called back over their COMMs.

Spartan Kent paused briefly before responding so his counterpart took over. “Yes ma’am! Noesis is still feeding us a map of the area and there’s another exit out here. We’ll see you outside.”

“Copy!”

The Knight attempted to fire on the Spartan once more and just before it released the trigger, a well thrown grenade took it out of its misery. Reloading her weapons and taking a quick stock of what was leftover, Noesis, the team’s AI, wormed her way past the defenses the Knight had thrown up and unlocked one doorway, placing a waypoint that led to the exit on the Spartan’s HUD. The commander took off and was forced to double back twice due to an influx of hostiles. Out of nowhere, a brilliant flash of blue and black lit up a doorway to the Four’s left. Hovering there, of its own volition apparently, was a portal. She was really backed into a corner right now, with Prometheans encroaching on her location. The construct hiding within her helmet was already following her line of thought before the woman even voiced her plan.

“Commander, as much as I’d like to be out of here, we don’t know where that portal leads,” Noesis protested.

“Anywhere’s better than here. They’re already starting to wrest control from you and you’ve already transferred over the data to Roland, right?” Auri had already started to back up toward the swirling vortex. Sure enough, another entrance on the far side of the room had opened up, revealing a mass of very angry Promethean Knights who thought they had the human cornered.

“Yes but…” the AI said, her sentence petering off. Oh hell. Her Spartan had already made up her mind and there was no changing it. “I’m notifying the others and I don’t think these Knights are going to wait much longer!” Moments before the Forerunner constructs could pounce, the Spartan dove into the portal’s center and her world went black and the machine shut off.

---

She could feel her body being spun this way and that. Her skin being tugged hard off her bones as she fell end over end. Or so it seemed.

Auri’s shields flared up as an unknown source drained the batteries until they cracked and died for a few seconds, the annoying alarm blaring right in her ear. Her equilibrium was way off and it felt as though she remained within the portal network for far longer than before although she couldn’t tell how much time had passed since she had taken the plunge.

Without warning, a hole suddenly opened up and spat her out into the dirt rather unceremoniously. The Spartan rolled to a stop, head spinning violently and she swallowed down the urge to throw up. Any attempt at getting to her feet were met with major protest as her vision swam sickeningly. Shutting her eyes tightly against the light filtering through her faceplate, the commander took in a few slow, deep breaths before rising up to her knees carefully. Her stomach was still her throat and her head throbbed something awful but she was alive and surprisingly in one piece. A few meters away from her, the portal floated and seemed to shudder. Had the Spartan not been paying attention, she wouldn’t have caught that slight waver that indicated something was off.

“Okay, good. You’re alright,” came her AI’s soft voice. “We may have a tail. Prometheans may have followed us and… I don’t think that portal is going to last much longer. We need to get clear of the blast radius and into cover.” Noesis sounded almost distracted and for a second, the Four couldn’t pin down what had caught her attention.

“Great… You don’t have to tell me twice,” Auri replied, turned around to get moving and stopped.

Oh.

That’s why.

They weren’t on Requiem anymore.

[sodapopsolstice]

Homestuck^2 sucked because none of the trolls actually aged like they were supposed to. Like the humans aged (even though they're MEANT to be immortal and dont give me they're mentally 40+ JOHN NO LONGER FITS IN HIS GOD TIER SUIT HE HAS AGED) but we don't ever see the natural development of the trolls.

Vriska, Aradia and Sollux I can kinda give leeway since they've went through timelines and dreambubbles and double death and half death and yada yada those 3 are kinda fucked up timeline wise so I kinda see why they never aged.

But Terezi, Karkat and Gamzee? No fucking excuse.

Kanaya is a grey area however cause you know she's "Kanaya The Vampire Fashion Queen" but like no credible sources I can find SAY anything about age when it comes to rainbow drinkers and I can't find out if The Dolorosa was actually a rainbow drinker so we don't have a naturally lived rainbow drinker example so I'm just gonna have to assume Kanaya ages like a regular troll.

However, the other 3 have no right to not be ageing. For example, I'm gonna pull up a image of Commander Vantas here:

It's hard to tell with Cmdr. Vantas because THE ONLY TIME WE SEE HIS FACE IS IN HERO MODE OR IN A LIGHTING AND SITTING DOWN anyways. But with what we are given with Cmdr. Vantas he DOES in fact give signs he has aged, not as much as he should of, by this point he should have gotten a good bit taller than the humans and have completely red eyes, but it's better than THIS

what the fuck. Meat Karkat SHOWS NO SIGNS OF AGING AT ALL HE LOOKS THE EXACT SAME AS HE DID WHEN HE WAS 13 WHEN HE IS 20 AT BARE MINIMUM and you may think im overreacting, cause obviously its just his symbolic sprite he doesn't ACTUALLY look like that

You buffoon, you oaf take at look at this. HE ISN'T AGING IN THE SLIGHTEST IN MEAT.

Other than artstyle and change of clothes he looks the fucking same, at this point in HS^2 he should be looking like The Signless but he doesn't even look older than Kankri. But maybe Karkat is a bad example maybe the poor guy has a case of eternal babyface and he's just cursed to look 13 forever.

Let's take a look at Gamzee instead.

There's so little images I could find off sight of Gamzee in hs^2 and I did NOT want to be on that buggy ass website for long so this is the best you're getting. As expected, Gamzee ALSO has a case of chronic babyface and it's especially egregious as he's the descendant of THE GRAND HIGHBLOOD.

Tbh this is actually kinda a good image since we can semi eye measure Vrissy and Gamzee. Of which Gamzee seems imo taller than Vrissy, not in massive hulking beast like GHB but like and adult man to a 15 year old, which would be normal and expected IF HE WASN'T AGAIN THE DESCENDANT OF THE GRAND HIGHBLOOD.

That guy is literally known in fandom for 2 things, being pissed off and being huge, again Gamzee follows the trend of not having the adult troll characteristics of dark grey skin and whilst his horns are red due to being hero mode and we can't see his eyes i think we can assume he probably doesn't have some nice lavender lookers on him.

And there is a reason why I've spent the last 1 or 2 hour complaining about obtuse homestuck lore and it's simple it shows a lack of care.

It shows that Homestuck^2 on the surface is a mediocre at best adaptation of Homestuck but as soon as the thin surface layer is scrapped away, it shows a hollow project, it shows a project that generally proves itself to be a homestuck thing but it doesn't show passion, I could probably right now find you any HS fan and ask them what makes adult trolls different to young trolls and they could probably easily tell me how and why. So why couldn't a whole team of people attempt at the very least, a version like that?

Its little things like the trolls not aging/aging like humans to the damn table to the lack of acknowledgement for already accepted and semi canonised reps of queer culture in favour for rep that punches down to the outright ridiculous swivels in personality that's prove to me at least that HSE and HS^2 were dead on arrival.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

You Spin Me Right Round Part Four

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Rating: M

Notes: Set after the series because Eddie is fine he graduated no worries. Not beta-read. I hope y’all are having a lovely weekend! 🖤

There will be 1-2 more chapters after this.

Warnings: Cursing, use of the marriageiguana, fluff, some angst, negative feelings toward Reader’s father; Reader’s father is an absent figure.

Summary: Eddie looks horrified at how dusty the turntable is. You don’t even know when it was last used—maybe a couple of the other employees used to use it now and again, but it’s been a long time since old Andrews cut their part time positions to give you a full time salary. 

“Oh, you poor thing,” Eddie gasps, crouching in front of it. “What has she done to you?” 

“Okay, lesson number two.” 

You look up from your book to see Eddie approaching the counter, holding something behind his back. He spins it to face you, a smile on his face. Your eyes wander the secondhand copy of Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors again. 

“I haven’t even finished lesson number one yet," You point out, "And why not the cassette?” 

“Well, first of all, we’d have to unwrap it.” 

“Right.” 

“Second of all, there are some things that you just need to hear on vinyl.” He draws the record out, setting the record sleeve down on the counter and twirling the record in front of you. “So. Where can I pop this bad boy in?” 

--  

Eddie looks horrified at how dusty the turntable is. You don’t even know when it was last used—maybe a couple of the other employees used to use it now and again, but it’s been a long time since old Andrews cut their part time positions to give you a full time salary. 

“Oh, you poor thing,” Eddie gasps, crouching in front of it. “What has she done to you?” 

You roll your eyes, watching as he takes his bandana from his back pocket and carefully brush the dust away from each of the components. 

“You’re bein’ real tender with that record player, Munson.” 

“Well you need to be tender with a record player. Especially one as unloved as this. Why won’t ya love it?” 

“...Just play the damn record.” 

Eddie turns back to the turntable, gently lowering the record onto the platter. 

“Don’t listen to her, baby,” He coos to it, sweetly smoothing his long, ringed fingers over the dials. “We’ll show her, won’t we.” 

He drops the needle, then cranks up the volume. 

“Is this still part of my education?” You ask. 

“‘Course it is. It’s all in layers. You wanna really know the tree, ya gotta know its roots,” Eddie insists, turning and pushing himself up to sit on the counter.

“And what…tree are you showing me?” 

Eddie grins devilishly then, and you seem to know the answer. Before you can prod, and before he can confirm your suspicions, a burst of bright guitar and a steady, thumping beat fills the shop. 

I know there's nothin' to say

Someone has taken my place

When times go bad

When times go rough

Won't you lay me down in tall grass

And let me do my stuff

Your eyes lower to your book, but you find that you’re not really reading—you’re too busy listening to the lyrics. It’s another moment before you hear the hiss of paper against cardboard. You glance up, doing a double-take at the sight of Eddie holding a large, thin booklet up in front of his face, peering at you from over the top. You bite your lip, glancing down at your book. Then you pluck your bookmark out of the back and set it down on the counter. Eddie flips the booklet open, passing it over to you. You take hold of it, skimming the credits, then spotting the lyrics. 

After a moment, you see Eddie shift in your periphery. He reaches out, taking up your book, scanning the cover. It’s the same one that he threw into and then drew out of the dirt the night before. His eyes skim the title before he flips it open to the first page. You smile a little bit, lowering your head back to the lyrics for a moment. When you’ve read ahead enough, you turn the cover upside down, then flip it over, eyes skimming the photos of the back of the insert. 

They seem to be from recording sessions, concerts, their everyday lives. You bite your lip, turning the album cover over again.

“You like this?” You hear him ask.

You glance at Eddie at his question. 

“The music or the book?” 

“I can tell you like the music.” 

The assertion makes your chest well with bashfulness, and you shift in your seat. 

“The book, then?” You press. Eddie nods, legs swinging back and forth as he waits patiently for your answer. You shrug a little, eyeing the bookmark. You’re about halfway through. 

“I mean…So far, I’m um…Yeah. Yeah, I think so,” You nod. “You ever read it?” 

“Nah. I was supposed to,” Eddie admits, looking down at the book again. You smile a little. 

“So was Cliff.” 

“Oh yeah? Explains why my grades were so bad for that unit—I used to copy off’a his papers.” 

“Really?” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Did you read anything in high school that you did like?” 

“Ah…Pffffff,” Eddie gazes upward, eyes narrowing as he seems to try and recall his reading lists. “Sherlock Holmes, that was pretty neat…Hamlet, I dug that one.” 

“Yeah?” You press. Eddie nods, tipping the book back and forth in his hands. “What’d you dig about it?” 

“The ghosts,” Eddie grins, “And the play—Like, the play in the play where they, like, trap the bad guy and shit. Fucking awesome. We did Romeo and Juliet, too, but like…Not as good.” 

“No?” 

“Nah. I mean it had some rad stuff, but Hamlet was better. I reread Hamlet a lot.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah.” Eddie’s head dips then, absently thumbing the pages. “I got held back senior year, like, twice.” 

You nod a little bit before offering a small shrug. “It happens.” 

Eddie seems to perk up at that, eyes darting to yours. 

“It happen to you?” 

You flounder. It's your turn to nervously eye the book, stomach flipping before you give a small shrug. 

“Not exactly.”

Eddie’s feet slow in their kicking before he lightly shifts one foot over, nudging your knee gently.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. It’s just your music education that I’m concerned with.” 

-- 

You shouldn’t be so enamored with the sight of Eddie folded in half, peering under the hood of your car. He’s gone between your car and his van twice, coming back with tools and something that you don’t recognize. He grunts as he tries to pry something loose. 

“Can you come hold this?” He asks, holding out the flashlight. 

“Yeah! Yeah,” You hurry to his side, taking hold of it and shining it where he directs. “Can I, um…What are you doing?” 

“Replacing spark plugs.” 

“...Which does…?” 

“They ignite the combustion in your engine with, you know—a spark,” He smiles up at you. “Helps get the car started.”

Your mouth forms a small ‘o’ as Eddie ducks his head again. Then he leans back to show you the cap to the plug, the old spark plug, and his tools—a ratchet, a gapping tool, ring nose pliers, and a universal joint extension. You watch him work with steady care. 

“Why are you replacing that one?” 

“It’s cracked. Look, here at the ceramic,” He leans back, showing you the crack in the sparkplug, “See how it runs the whole length of the plug?” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Well, when there’s a crack, the spark can misfire to the central electrode and not the ground electrode.” 

“And that’s…Bad.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckles, pointing to the tip, “You want it to spark here. Anywhere else and it’s not going to ignite the fuel.” 

“So that’s why my car sputtered.” 

“Yes ma’am,” Eddie nods, bowing over the hood again. You bite your lip, watching his steady, quick fingers. You’re a little rattled by the sight, and the way it makes your stomach flip. It’s another hour before Eddie is leaning back with a, “Hoo, boy. Alright, start her up.” 

You round to the car, climbing into the front seat and turning the key in the ignition. It’s just a second before the car is firing up. Your brows raise, and you can’t help but smile as Eddie closes the hood of your car, giving a little wiggle of his hips, and a fist pump. 

“Boom!” 

You chuckle softly, shutting your car down. 

“Thank you,” You say, climbing out of it. “What do I owe you for—” 

“Oh nah, don’t worry about it,” He shakes his head. And that’s sweet of him, but you can’t just send him off without some kind of thanks. 

“Are you hungry?” You ply. 

--  

Your eye keeps straying nervously from the stove to Eddie. He’s eyeing the posters and the pictures put up on your wall, looking at the books on your shelves and on the coffee table. You’ve never let anyone into your space like this—you’ve never had anyone to let into your space. You turn back to the food as you feel Eddie turning to look at you. 

“You’re not in your usual,” You comment as he wanders closer. 

“Huh?” 

“The uh—Your devil shirt…Thing.” 

“Ah.” 

“Is that the name of your band?” 

“What, Hellfire Club? Nah,” He smiles, leaning against the counter beside you, “That’s the uh—It’s a Dungeons and Dragons group. I used to be the Dungeon Master.”

“So why do you still wear the shirt?” 

“Because it’s a good shirt.” 

You chuckle, turning back to the food and pushing it around the pan, making sure it doesn’t burn. 

“Soooo,” Eddie leans closer, “What are we having?” 

“It’s just…Nothing fancy. I mean, I usually just throw things in a pan and push it around until it’s cooked.” 

“Well, whatever’s in there, it smells awesome.” 

You smile gratefully, glancing at Eddie to find him smiling widely at you. 

“You want something to drink? Beer or, water, something?” You offer. “Uhhh…Yeah. Yeah, I’ll take a beer.” 

-- 

You expect your evening with Eddie to end at dinner. Instead, you wind up on the couch with him, half a joint deep as you listen to the mixtape he made you. He’s shed his leather jacket and jean vest, leaving him in a long sleeve black shirt that clings to his arms in the most distracting way.

You’re a little surprised how easy the evening has felt, and how nice it feels to have someone in your home. Maybe it’s the weed. Maybe it’s the company, and the fact that you’re starting to get more and more comfortable with Eddie. Either way, you sit nestled against his side, his arm curled around your shoulders. Your eyes are set on a photo you ripped out of National Geographic and pinned to your wall. The article was about Río Azul, touted as the Lost City of the Maya. 

You let your eyes slip closed. Your body feels lighter than air. Every slight slip of Eddie’s fingers over your shoulders makes little goosebumps and sparks skitter up your arm. He turns his head a little, lips brushing your temple, and your heart skips a beat. 

“Do you like it?” He murmurs. It takes you a moment—you don’t know if he means the weed, or how close you are to him. And then it clicks that he means the music, the tape that he so painstakingly put together for you. Sure, not all of the it is something that you’ve gone out of your way to listen to before—in fact, none of it is. But the fact that Eddie’s gone out of his way to do so many things for you, things that you never asked for, makes your head feel like a helium balloon, bobbing and light. 

“Yeah,” You murmur in turn, tipping your head up a bit to look at him. As you move, his lips brush over the slope of your nose. You go still at the proximity. You can feel Eddie’s breath brushing against your lips. His dark, warm eyes sweep your face, your stomach flips as his gaze drops to and lingers on your mouth. It sends a dangerous bolt of want through you. You lower your gaze, swallowing thickly as you reach out, taking the lit joint from between his fingers and resting your head on his shoulder again, raising it to take another puff. Eddie clears his throat slightly. 

“You have any snacks?” He asks.

“Um…” You gaze toward the kitchen, wracking your brain as you raise the joint to your lips. “I don’t think so.” 

Eddie grunts, then shoves a hand into his pocket. You hear his fingers close around something crinkly before he draws them out, holding up a little plastic sleeve with brightly colored candy. 

“Want a chumball?” He offers. It makes you splutter smoke and cough, but you can’t stop giggling, your head tipping back against his shoulder. Eddie falls into laughter, whacking your shoulder and nodding to the water on your coffee table.

“Take a sip before you choke, jeez,” He laughs. You wobble, flailing to sit up, your giggles spurred further as Eddie lowers his hand to give you an assisting push at your lower back. You grasp the glass of water, swigging it and soothing your stinging throat. You cough a couple more times before you slouch back against him again. 

“Fuck,” You mumble.

“That a yes or no to the chumballs?” 

You glance over, smiling dopily as he shakes them. 

“Yeah, sure. What the fuck,” You agree, nodding and holding a hand out. Eddie raises the packet to his mouth, and you watch, mouth drying, as he rips it open with his teeth. He tips the bag into your hand, shaking a red one into your hand. You pluck it up with your other hand, holding it up in the dim light before you pop it between your lips. You glance back as Eddie pops a yellow one into his mouth before shoving the packet away again. 

“Which one’d you get?” You ask around the chumball. 

“Mmmm…Banana,” He answers, chumball clacking against his teeth. “You?” 

You swirl the chumball around in your mouth. 

“Cherry.” 

Eddie grunts, taking the joint and drawing from it. You arch your brows. 

“Is the chumball enhancing the flavor?” You ask dryly. Eddie seems to consider for a moment before he shakes his head, blowing the smoke out through his nose. 

“No. Not at all.” 

You collapse into giggles again, turning your head and lightly butting your forehead against his jaw. He chuckles in turn, blowing the last of the smoke from between his lips before he curls his arm around your shoulders again, pressing his face into your hair. You can more feel than hear him humming along to the music. 

“...What’s this one,” You mumble. 

“Paranoid,” Eddie murmurs, “Black Sabbath and Ozzy Osbourne. It’s the uh…They did it at LiveAid last year.” 

“...S’good.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Good glue.” 

“Great glue.” 

Tag list: @missredherring​ ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta​ ; @paintballkid711​ ;  @massivecolorspygiant​ ; @blueeyesatnight​ ;  @recklessworry​ ; @amneris21​​ ; @ew-erin​ ; @youngkenobilove​​ ; @carbonated-beverage​​ ; @lorecraft​​  ;  @moonlightburned​​ ;  @milf-trinity​​  ; @nolanell​​ ;  @millllenniawrites​​ ;  @chattychell​​  ; @dihra-vesa​​  ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices​​ ; @missswriter​​  ; @thembosapphicclown​​ ;  @brandyllyn​​  ; @wildmoonflower​​ ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink​​  ; @mad-girl-without-a-box​​  ;  @winchestershiresauce​​ ; @munsonsuccubus ; @dragonfly358 (tumblr wouldn’t let me tag) ; @heyndrix (tumblr wouldn't let me tag)

[stanislawkowalski]

Nastka's breath hitched, his pulse a frantic drumbeat beneath Toji's touch. The world beyond them blurred into a distant dream—the pulsating bass of the music, the kaleidoscope of swirling lights, the ephemeral silhouettes of dancing figures—all melting into a hazy backdrop. Only the fierce intimacy between them remained, a vivid and electric reality that eclipsed everything else.

Toji's dominance was intoxicating, his touch a blend of command and caress. Nastka’s mind raced, caught between surrendering to the overwhelming need and revelling in the thrilling rebellion. The abyss Toji offered was an alluring temptation, a dark promise of surrender and ecstasy.

With trembling fingers, Nastka reached up, his touch tender as he cupped Toji's face, his thumb tracing the taut line of his jaw. He tilted his head, eyes alight with a fusion of defiance and desire. The dance floor, with its rhythmic pulse and ephemeral lights, became a mere whisper in the grand symphony of their shared heartbeat—a primal and sacred resonance.

“Is that so?” Nastka murmured, his voice a low, sultry whisper that wove through the air enough to reach the other's ears. “And here I thought you’d prefer to let me crash and burn. After all, it’s not every day someone gets the chance to experience the full depth of your abyss.” He leaned in closer, his lips grazing Toji's ear, each breath a warm curse. “But tell me, Toji, what if I want to take you down with me?”

He arched his back slightly, pressing his body against Toji’s, feeling the heat of their shared desire radiate through the layers of fabric and flesh. His hand slipped lower, deftly undoing the top buttons of his shirt, just enough to tease and reveal the hint of skin beneath. The brush of his fingertips against Toji’s chest was deliberate, each touch a slow, seductive exploration.

“You think you can contain me, Toji?” Nastka’s voice was a seductive whisper, charged with a provocative edge. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m just a willing prisoner to your desires. But if you’re asking me what I’m willing to pay,” he continued, his gaze piercing and bold, “I’d say it’s a gamble I’m more than eager to take. So, show me, Toji. Show me what you have to offer, and let me decide if the abyss is worth the fall.”

Nastka’s eyes sparkled with a mischievous fire as he decided to finally guide Toji’s hand, placing it firmly against his crotch. The gesture was both an invitation and a claim, a tangible expression of their shared longing. “This is my wallet,” he murmured, his tone heavy with double meaning. “Feel free to use it however you see fit.”

Emerald  hues  gleamed  with  a  dark  intensity  as  he  savored  the  taste  of  Nastka's  lips  on  his  own,  the  vivid  red  staining  his  mouth  like  a  brand.  The  lingering  heat  of  the  kiss  ,  fleeting  yet  fervent,  left  a  smoldering  trail  of  desire  in  its  wake.  He  watched  as  Nastka's  lips,  now  painted  with  the  same  crimson  mark  ,  curled  into  that  familiar  mix  of  amusement  and  challenge  ,  the  same  look  that  had  always  intrigued  him. 

 Heart  beat  racing  under  his  touch  –  his  demeanor  soft  and  docile  under  his  touch.  His  voice  vibrating  in  his  ear  ,  like  a  smooth  melody  whispering  his  desires  without  words.  Warmth  breath  caressing  his  skin  and  a  hint  of  blush  painted  his  cheeks.  Watching  with  much  excitement  melt  under  his  fingers  tips.  

 Leaving  unforgettable  marks  burned  in  his  memories.  Drawing  in  the  toxicity  of  it  all.  Possessive.  Mine.  Controlling.  He  is  mine.  Dominating.  Only  mine.  Jealous.  Entangled  in  his  webs  of  tenderness  ,  playing  along  his  game  ,  and  even  so  still  under  his  leash.  Shackled  like  a  prisoner  to  their  desire  and  lust.  

 How  beautiful  ...  wanted  him  spoiled  to  the  point  of  need  ,  unable  to  leave  ,  and  to  seek  it  out  when  his  absent  was  unbearable.  His  hand  wanders  down  his  jawline  ,  down  his  neck  and  down  his  chest  .  Seeking  the  beat  of  his  heart  ,  feeling  it  racing  to  him.  Grasp  up  Nastka’s  chin  ,  firm  yet  tender  ,  forcing  him  to  meet  his  gaze.  The  playful  mask  was  gone,  replaced  by  something  more  primal,  more  raw.  "  But  I’ll  ask  you  this  ,  "  Toji  murmured  ,  his  lips  brushing  against  Nastka’s  in  a  barely-there  caress  ,  "how  much  are  you  willing  to  pay  for  a  taste  of  the  abyss  ?  For  a  chance  to  fall  ,  knowing  I’ll  be  the  one  to  catch  you—or  let  you  crash  and  burn?  " 

 He  leaned  closer  ,  pushing  him  against  the  chair  ,  straddling  his  lap  like  a  sit  made  for  him  ,  not  waiting  for  his  answer.  His  hand  moving  back  down  ,  undoing  the  few  rows  of  his  shirt  ,  and  continuing  his  work  of  art  as  his  lip  pressed  against  his  neck  ,  and  a  bite  left  a  different  mark  on  him.  “  I  you  willing  to  pay  the  cost  of  it  thou  ” 

[totiredtowrite]

Nonononono hear me out right? Imagine Oikawa, one of the most powerful demons around, snags a reader who wants to be a hero and just kind of says 'aight this ones mine now'

Powerless

Warnings - Mentions of killing, the word blade, a religious joke here or there, cursing, referenced nsfw, the req was short but I managed to make this long af, sorry if the ending is trash :(, might do a part 2

Note: I have one mood and this is it

Male Reader - Fem Readers DNI, Respect The Boundaries of the Writers. ✨This isn't about you✨

Demon King Oikawa Tooru.

Infamous for a...multitude of things. For one, his power. Two, the astounding number of people who lust after him. Cults and chapels have been erected in his favour, solely because of his attraction. Nobodies even sure if he's a demon of lust at this point, or if he's just naturally handsome.

And lastly, of course, his ego. His power gives him a big head, though that isn't undeserved. He's just as cocky as he's allowed to be. While it may seem like overkill to some people, they'll quickly find that all of his self conceit is well earned.

Of course, that makes him a big target. Any heroes career would be made if they could kill the demon king. Hell, some get publicity just by returning alive. Young, naive, aspiring heroes want to get his head on a platter more than anything.

And, of course, you were no exception.

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"I just don't think you're cut out for this, son."

At first you'd scoffed. Chalked it up to your mentor being crazy. After all, he was the one who trained you for this!

Nearing the end of the dead forest though, you were starting to wish that you'd listened to him. The energy, the atmosphere, felt like it was wrapping around your neck. You could almost see the dark tendrils around your throat.

The whispers of the forest- prominent, though unintelligible- faded the farther you got from the tree line. Anyone with eyes, ears, or even a nose could tell how corrupt the land was here. Dead birds, ravens to be exact, littered the grounds. Every few yards, you had to step over or around a carcass.

Your torch, near burnt out, clattered to the ground.

There wasn't any need for it anymore, the dim sunset illuminating the deathly area. A small shudder tore through your body. It's like you could feel eyes on you, even in the obviously vacated expanse.

The castle wasn't any better.

Cracked and broken cobblestone lined the pathway up to the doors, travelling up a rather steep hill. From where you stood, you could see the different layers. True to it's unholy resident, the castle was make of dark brick and stone. Sharp, jagged pillars jutted up at the tips of towers, pyres in small heaps littering the area. Some looked as if they were already burnt.

Your hand drifted to your side. There your sword hung, sheathed tightly in a leather casing. The sword was all you really needed, though a couple extra daggers and limited magic items were helpful. After all, it was the demon king. Just a sword wasn't going to kill him off.

You smiled at the thought of your sword being framed when you became a well-known hero, famous for being the blade to deliver the finishing blow.

Those thoughts were quickly disrupted as a bird fell to the ground at your feet.

You grimaced, gently kicking the corpse out of the way and continuing on the rocky cobblestone path. There hasn't been any sign of people for the last two miles. You knew that there was an immensely powerful demon king not even twenty minutes away from you, but it felt like there was nobody for miles on end.

Obviously though, no sane person would get as close to this place as you were.

With one final, (and tentative) step, you arrived at the front door. It felt like any and all sound was swallowed by the walls, all of your senses instantly on edge. Nothing felt right here. It almost made you want to turn around, but you've already made it this far. It would make no sense.

Drawing in another shaky breath, your hand made its way to the door handle. Not much skin touched it through your gloves, yet you could just sense how wrong it felt.

You could only hope that the next time you see these doors, you'd still have your head.

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Nobody told Oikawa that being the demon king would be so...boring.

As opposed to what everyone thinks, it's actually rather monotonous. Wake up, go seduce some townspeople, maybe burn a village or two, kill some heroes who come by, and repeat. Nothing happened that he didn't expect anymore.

Hell, it's gotten to the point where he just smites heroes before they even finish their little speech!

In his defense though, their speeches were starting to sound the same. All the "you are an ungodly creature of darkness"s and "I must avenge my family"s just felt the exact same. They only wanted to kill him for the publicity, the bounty, or some stupid thing about their families legacy. He's so bored.

His thoughts were quickly interrupted, (thank god), by the sound of footsteps pounding on the floor. All at once the door to the throne room swung open, a sweating and panting Kuroo standing there. His black hair was wind tousled, sweat glinting on his forehead.

"Wow," Oikawa scoffed. "Somethings got you running."

Kuroo stood up straight, shrugging and attempting to appear collected. "What do you mean?"

Oikawa raised his brows.

"Right, there's a hero in the castle." Kuroo chuckled awkwardly. "Want us to take care of him?"

Oikawa perked up. Another hero? Really? He wasn't looking forward to doing the same dance again, though maybe this time it would be slightly different. "Let him in," he grinned. "Maybe this one will have something for me." He was never one to turn down opportunity.

Kuroo, plagued by a bit of disbelief, nodded and left the throne room. Presumably it was to tell the fox twins.

Another wicked smile split the Demon King's face, brown hair shifting as he tilted his head to the side. Somehow, he got the feeling that this time, something interesting would happen.

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You figured that the castle would be partly deserted, but this was just weird.

No sign of any living beings. Demons, animals, humans, nothing. Was it an ambush? Quite possibly. Still though, you continued on through the halls.

The inside, just like the outside, was made of dark stone and brick. The floors were marbled and grey, veins of gold running through it. It was actually relatively pretty. You thought that there would be skulls and bones everywhere, bodies even. The castle was well taken care of.

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. Seriously, there was no one. You thought that the all powerful Demon King would at least have some guards stationed around. You were grateful for it though, the lack of protection making it easier for you to get into the castle.

In truth you weren't exactly sure where you were headed. You believed the demon king to be in his throne room, though where exactly that was remained a mystery.

Using your limited knowledge of how castles are built, you slowly tried to make your way to the center of the castle. The back center, specifically. You hoped that you'd find the throne room there, plus you were following the remnants of magic.

Even not being a magic user yourself, it would be hard not to feel the weird fluctuations of energy in these halls. Demons always left some kind of trail behind. Which, of course, made this weirder. Nobody was stopping you, but it was clear that there were being in the castle aside from the king himself.

A thought struck you as you reached two huge double doors. (They no doubt led to the throne room). Was it possible that the demons were letting you get this close? Of course, there had to be some kind of second meaning behind it, right?

Drawing in a breath, you flung the doors open.

The throne room was different than the rest of the castle, if only slightly. Grey marble and gold veins staying the same of course, the walls slightly lighter than before. If you had the time to look closely, you'd notice the oxidized bloodstains on the walls.

"Well well, look who's finally showed up!"

Your breath hitched in your throat, barely registering the door creaking closed behind you the moment you stepped forward. He was just as...no, more terrifying up close. The horns jutting out from the sides of his head, twisted upward, held a muted purple colour that shined in the equally muted light. His tone of voice was teasing, almost whiny.

You couldn't tell if his eyes were brown or red, but either way they glowed dangerously. "Well, boy?" He tilted his head, soft brown hair bouncing slightly. "You are here to kill me...aren't you?" His tone shifted. Deeper, more serious.

Your hand quickly made its way to your sword, eyes darting from his horns to his eyes.

He laughed. "Why do you keep looking at my horns like that? You are here for my head, are you not?" You wanted to nod, though he spoke before you could get an answer out.

"Wait a minute. You're here for something more...carnal, aren't you?"

Your eyes widened. "What- no! I'm here for your head!" Your grip on the swords hilt tightened. The rumors about his looks were true, (maybe even understating them), however that is not what you're here to do.

The teasing smirk dropped off of his face. "Oh. Lame."

Your brows knitted together. "Lame?" What was that supposed to mean?

"Oh nothing," he rolled his eyes. "So if you're going to deliver a speech, best do it now. Before I, you know, kill you real bad."

You only looked more confused.

Oikawa scoffed at your lack of response. "Jeez, come on, you know what a soliloquy is right?"

"Well yes but I don't think that really applies here-"

"Tomato whatever, get on with it!" He'd turned around, hands firmly gripping your shoulders.

Your breath stopped short for a second.

"Oh come one," his face moved closer. "Is a little proximity all it takes for you to freeze up? Maybe you aren't cut out to be a hero, boy," he snickered. His nose was brushing yours, breath minty and cold.

Without thinking, your sword was at his side in a flash of silver. Maybe it was just out of reflex, the need to defend yourself. The blank, shocked look on your face morphing into one of confusion. Why wasn't your sword moving further? "Was that the best you could do?" The king whispered.

Looking down, you realize just why he was so revered. He'd caught the blade in his hand, a trickle of black blood visible on his palm. No grimace, no noise of pain, nothing. "Hey, eyes up here sweetheart," one of his clawed hands was on your chin now. The wound, one that would cut almost anyone's hand off, didn't seem to throw him off his rhythm at all.

Horror and realization befell you as your eyes met his. You weren't ready. You didn't know what to do, except relax and let instinct take over. So that's what you did.

You let the sword fall out of your hand, causing him to have to catch it at an awkward angle. Using his moment of distraction, you reached into a bag at your hip. Sand. Sure, he was a demon, though it's not like his eyes were impervious to sand.

The dust hit him in the eyes, a startled, strangled noise leaving him. You turned, darting to the only open window as fast as possible. Jumping was not a good idea by any means, though maybe you could use the little magic you knew to your own advantage. You hesitated. You didn't mean to, but really it was just in your nature to be a little cautious.

Oikawa's eyes cleared just in time to see you fall out the window, hands darting back and forth and lips moving. Magic. "You clever little thing," he snarled, at the window in only a few seconds flat. He almost jumped out after you, but then he stopped. Sure he could follow you, but what would be the point? It makes more sense to simply leave you to come back on your own.

"Hey!"

You didn't look back at the sound of his voice, though you did catch the next words to fall from his mouth. "The names Tooru, by the way!"

You didn't say a word, focused on the cold burn of your heart pounding and your legs moving. You'd failed far faster than you thought you would, but you'd be back. You didn't even bother to step around the birds, only focused on getting out. After all, he'd let you leave. There wasn't any way you were taking that for granted.

Back at the castle, Oikawa's hands were still gripping the window's edge. He'd watched your form run until he could hardly see you, still gazing off in that direction. The twins were hovering behind him, wondering when the right time would be to speak. The bloodied sword on the ground, (and the grains of sand), were clear signs that you'd done something.

After elbowing one another for a minute, Osamu spoke up. "Would you like us to take care of it, Lord?" He pushed Atsumu back in an attempt to seem more dignified.

They got silence for a second before he responded. "No. That one is mine. Leave him be." The twins nodded in unison, leaving the room like they were never there.

You didn't do much. There were other heroes who'd done far more to him then you had, though still, something stuck with him. Maybe it was the utterly useless conversation you'd shared before anything actually happened. Maybe it was the vague potential he saw.

In any case, he was going to see you once more. Somewhere you'd least expect him.

Oikawa never was fond of leaving unfinished business.

[indigobackfire]

Oh, well, I hope you don't mind doing 15 for the kisses prompt for Chariper then (I was thinking maybe after Marwa's death) 👉👈

I sooo sorry for taking so long, but I kept going on and off writing this and then I got caught into it and ended up incredibly long 🙈 Also I think I derived from the initial prompt so sorry for that x)

I considered writing Scottishly but then I'd take double the time, so just pretend is there xD Tried using as much info as I could, still I'm sure it won't be all accurate x) Also a lil Indigo mention bc yes xD

I really hope you like it 😘

From this prompt list.

Ship: Juniper Moss × Charlie Weasley

Time: 1997

Wordcount: 3.5k (well...)

CW: Injury/torture description (nothing too graphic), mention of suicidal thoughts, grief, yearning, angst (like you asked xD)

/////

Charlie’s house isn’t exactly made for two, at least not comfortably, Juniper knows it well — it’s all too small, from the sofa to the bed, the tight kitchen, the few utensils, and the one bathroom. But she’s also aware he’s making his utmost to make this as comfortable for her as he can and it tears her up.

He gave up his bed for her and acquired more cutlery and plates, he did abundant grocery shopping, and with magic tried increasing every space possible. She felt like a waste of space and time with the way Charlie was bending backwards to serve her, but where else could she go? In her state travelling would be unsuitable and even if she could, go back home to who? Go back home just to witness the empty space left by Marwa’s absence, her sweet and welcoming smell still on her bedroom, her shoes by the bed and her books on the nightstand, unread, her clothes still in the wardrobe never to be worn again.

The thought plagues her every morning like a dull pain even worse than that of her physical self. But still, she gets up, for Marwa — to keep pushing through, to finish what she risked her life for —, but mostly, for Charlie, the one who has believed in her enough to carry the weight of her grieving soul in his arms, in his home, in his attentive care. Because, yes, she needs care and who better to get it from than somebody like him, somebody her heart is weak for.

She’s still exhausted, but gets out of bed, cleans herself and brushes her hair the best she can, looks in the mirror and tries her hardest not to hate her scars, her looks, herself. Marwa hated her self deprecation, hated how that treatment of herself made her reckless about her own safety. Juniper can almost see it, Marwa would shake her head and say, “You’re better than this”, she’d agree even if she didn’t believe in that but she’d try to, for Marwa, always for her. Living has been difficult, but surviving should be enough for now.

When she walks into the kitchen/living room and its delicious aroma, it almost seems like she’s dressed to go out into a snowy day in three layers of Charlie’s clothes — a thin long-sleeved sweater, a thicker one, and a sheep lining coat, not to mention the two layers of trousers and a cap to top it off —, but that’s the only clothes Juniper could stand to wear without shivering down to the bone, one of the side effects of the Ice Curse they used to torture her for days on end. Only God knows how she survived, very close to dying from hypothermia, skin battered and frostbitten, trembling like crazy once she was rescued, unable to be heated up fast due to the cursed nature of the cold.

Charlie tries a smile over his shoulder and it’s genuinely the warmest thing in the house. In comparison, Charlie’s simply in a sweatshirt and his favourite trousers, trying to flip pancakes using his wand. “Morning, Junie. Sleep well?”

“Aye. The earmuffs helped.”

“I’m glad it did.”

She tucks herself onto one of the chairs by the small round table. “Sorry, I woke up late.”

“Hey, don’t, don’t apologise.”

“You always insist on preparing me breakfast, you’ll be late for work.”

“I’m staying at home today. My superiors wanna see how the new girl does without my help, Ursula her name.” He levitates the pancake from the pan onto a sloppy pile on the plate. “Ha! Didn’t burn a single one this time.”

“Uhm, I was getting used to the sharp taste of coal in the morning.”

“Hillarious. Maple or honey?”

“Honey.” He places the plate and the bottle in front of her before sitting down with his on stack double the size of hers.

On the side of her pancakes, a little bunch of unevenly chopped banana slices. “I feel like a child when you do this.”

“I like doing something special for you.”

“You’ve already done enough. I won’t say I’m fine, I’m not naive, but… you don’t have to do so much.”

“Cutting a banana is not too much. Besides, I’m not doing it out of pity, Junie. I’m doing it because I like you and I take pleasure in taking care of you. Mom says it’s second nature to want to take care. Of kids, dragons, friends, plants.”

“Plants… maybe not.” She thinks for a second. “Yeah. I loved taking care of Marwa.”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“I don’t want you to step on eggs around me, Charlie.” She takes a forkful of bananas to keep the teary sting from her eyes. “I also don’t wanna forget her, I don’t want her to be forgotten.”

“She won’t be. Especially considering her love will outlive her. Well, it’s too early for tears.” He points to her pancakes with his fork, smiling from ear to ear. “Come on, take a bite, tell me if they’re worth anything.”

.

“Should we take a walk?” Juniper asks, looking out the small window.

“Uhm… if you want to.” Charlie closes the book he was reading and gets up from his armchair to look out the window with her. “But isn’t too cold for you?”

“I can throw another layer on. I need to keep my muscles from atrophying. Winter soon will come and then I certainly won’t be in shape for any walks outdoors.” She smiles weakly. “Besides, in all the chaos I didn’t have a chance to enjoy the Autumn view.”

“You right, I’ll just fetch you something to keep warm.”

Juniper puts on her old loyal boots, tying them slowly. Any precise movement was still difficult — tying shoes, writing, folding clothes, cutting her own food, braiding her hair, even certain spells that required a more delicate hand movement —, suffering from her weak and stiff hands. Hands that are in such a state thanks to the torture she endured.

She watches her trembling hands and can recall the cold of the room she was held captive at, the foul smell, the cold, the hard ground, the magical ropes that bind her wrists behind her back, the bone crumbling muscle tearing pains, so cold. If she hadn’t resisted, if she had died soon, Marwa wouldn’t have come to her rescue, she’d be safe, she be alive. If only she had—

“I got something nice for you here,” Charlie exclaims from the other room bringing her back to her senses.

She takes a deep breath trying to steady her mind. Juniper believes herself to be strong, she knows she’s strong, but even she understands the limits of her body. She once thought cruciatus played only with the mind, simulating pain, but in doing so it also hurt the body, the soul. But Charlie, he’s an anchor, a strong and steady one. She focus on his existence and the world doesn’t seem as horrible.

“How is the tying?” He steps into the living room, soon placing a shawl over her shoulders.

She takes the gloves he’s handed and begins putting them on. “It’s fine.”

He gives a look. “It’s not, you’ll trip. Here, let me help.” He undoes her sloppy tying and reties it perfectly. “I told you a hundred times, ask when you need help.”

She gets up and he follows. “I can tie my own boots. It’s embarrassing enough that you had to cut my nails and cut my steak and brush my hair.”

“I love the way your hair feels.” She rolls her eyes and he laughs. “Stop complaining. Nobody’s forcing me to do this.”

She gets up. “I am. Indirectly I am.”

“Just say thank you and I’ll be the happiest guy.”

“Thank you, Charles. It’s a braw shawl,” she says, wrapping the thick tartan shawl tighter around herself as they walk out the door, wind hitting them first thing.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“I’m going with or without you.” She clears her throat at the harshness of her tone. “But I’d appreciate if you stay, I promise this is nothing.”

He simply shakes his head. “Indigo sent me it on my birthday, the shawl. I haven’t worn it yet.”

“She has good taste, I’ll give her that.”

“Kinda biassed coming from another Scot.”

She chuckles. “Have you seen her lately?” He shakes his head with a frown. “Me neither, it’s been quite about a year when we bumped into each other at the Ministry. Last I heard was that Barnaby’s parents escaped Azkaban.”

Charlie’s eyes darken in a frown. “They religiously write to me once or twice a month. I haven’t received any letter in three from neither. And if what I think it happened, happened, there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Juniper feels a shiver run down her spine. “These are dark times we’re living in.”

“I just hope they’re well and together. Going through all this alone is hell.” He gives Juniper a pained smile. “I hate the circumstances but I’m glad you’re here with me. What happened to George, Bill… thank goodness it wasn’t fatal, but that did a number on me and even when your life was going into a spiral, you supported me.” He waits until she’s looking at him to continue. “That’s why I don’t mind doing what I’m doing for you, I know you’d do the same for me.”

Juniper can barely speak nor face him, nodding with undistinguishable sounds boiling in the back of her throat, words she’s refrained herself from muttering for years, now daring to emerge. A volcano, words hot and glowing like lava daring to erupt from her blazing heart, they’d burn her, they’d burn him as well. Of course she’d do the same for him, the same and much much more, whatever Charlie asked of her.

He touches her arm and she nearly jumps. “Are you alright, June?”

She nods roughly. “Yeah, I just— Let’s keep walking.”

Their walk is quiet from there on, taking in the red, orange, and green of the landscape, a much-needed sun shining down on them even if it didn’t offer much heat along with the light. Her feet ache but nothing her inner turmoil couldn’t distract her from. They walk for about twenty minutes before reaching the limits of the plateau where Charlie’s cabin house is located with an overview of a small muggle village below.

The view is, in fact, very beautiful, especially with the way the sun shines down at the landscape before them, the river running alongside the village glistening with the light. But all the while, her chest’s on fire from his words, smoke clouding up her mind, the sparks coming off of his mere presence not helping her case.

“I wanna take you there once you get better. There’s a little shop… not really a shop, an old lady’s house where she sells all types of cheese and sweets, you’ll love it.”

Again the lump returns, but she offers a weak smile. “I’d love that. But, uhm, can we go back?”

He takes a step towards her. “I can apparate us there if you’re not feeling well.”

“I’m well, I’m just… cold. I’ll get warmer on the walk back.”

It didn’t make sense considering the long walk they had to get there, but he wasn’t going to refute it. He offers her an arm and they make their way back in half the time, the warmth of the house like a sweet embrace once they walk in, the honeysuckle and cinnamon scent intoxicating her every sense, wrapping around her heart like Devil’s Snare.

She turns to him, his countenance visibly worried, and just watches him drunk in a semi-conscious haze, despite the blur of her vision, she can see him clear enough — his beautiful copper oranger amber hair falling over the most beautiful eyes she has ever seen, freckles over skin like a starry sky. And as her eyes slowly move down his body, she feels herself lose balance and he’s close enough to hold her up.

Her cheeks are flushed which drives him to touch her them with the back of his fingers. “You’re burning.”

He unwraps the scarf and the shawl from her, all the while knowing she’s out of herself. It had happened before, short lapses in consciousness and thought, yet another side effect from the extensive torture she went through, but nothing this aggravating.

Juniper herself can’t tell, brain glowing and quiet like a flame. He then takes her face in his hands to try and bring her back to herself but it works against his wishes and she practically melts. His face so close, his chocolatey eyes. It’s love, so solid and heavy and palpable, emanating from her, weighing her down down down down—

.

In her sinking, his voice, calling her name. It’s glorious.

.

Juniper first hears heaving, centimetres away from her face, then the overwhelming heat from fire irradiating so incredibly close. She blinks her eyes open, a little lightheaded still. She’s being embraced, if not that, held.

Charlie’s pupils almost overtake the honey brown, face pale like snow. He holds her face with one hand. “Junie? Juniper? How are you feeling? Merlin! I knew that walk wasn’t a good idea!”

She takes his wrist to stop him from shaking her. “Charlie, calm down. What happened?”

“You fainted. You were burning up then you went cold again in a minute.” Explaining why were they on the rug by the fireplace. He finally stabilizes himself, trying to breath normally. “Scared the shit outta me.”

“Fainted? I’m so dramatic,” she tries laughing it off, distracting herself from the fact she’s in his arms. “I bet it was just the… the exertion.”

“Dramatic!? You didn’t faint on purpose.”

“I know, but I’m better now, don’t worry. See? No fever.”

“We gotta take you to a hospital, June. There’s a decent one in Bucharest.”

White hot panic takes over her and she pulls away from him, suddenly is harder to breath. “I don’t need to.”

“Bucharest is not that far, you clearly need help—”

“I’d rather die.” She curls against the sofa’s base. “I am not going, Charlie. I refuse.”

She can already picture it, the prying eyes, the antiseptic smell, the cold, healer’s assuming this and that about her condition while she knows very well what’s going on. Paired with her lapses in consciousness and thought she hadn’t experienced when she was first rescued, her stay would certainly be long and definetly a not so pleasent one. They had brought her back to life back then, when she was found burned, bloody, starved, and so terribly weak, but she’s also aware that if it weren’t for Bill and Charlie’s beggin for them to save her, she wouldn’t have survived. She had decided since then to be careful, to never again be at their mercy.

He gets up, pacing in circle. “And you expect me to just watch you fall ill and do nothing about it? I brought you here so I could help you get better and care for you, if you don’t—”

Perhaps it was the gut wrenching panic, perhaps the sickness still left in her, perhaps his wide and glistening eyes shinning at her, but the words just spill. “Because it was you… who made me sick. And no healer can cure that.”

He looks at her as if she had spoken in another language. “Wh-What? How– Me?”

“Yes, you. You’ve been driving me mad. You treat me so well, you keep me close, you allow me in your little world, and it’s driving me over the edge, Charles. It’s too much for me.”

His tone becomes serious. “What do you mean, June?”

Juniper wants to get up, to run, to jump off a cliff and go underwater, to release the building adrenaline in any other way but through her words. But she’s too weak, too exposed. She has lost the most important thing in her life, yet there’s still so much to be lost, but now the feeling has become familiar, the feeling of letting go. 

She lays down on the carpet, exhausted, releasing tears long held back. “I love you, Charlie!”

He freezes where he stands, loosening up his hands and shoulders.

She wipes a few tears away. “I’m sorry.”

The word seems so big, his mouth can barely hold it. “You lo-” He lowers himself back to the ground with her. “How long?”

“For almost as long as I’ve known you. Really known you.”

He can’t drive himself to talk any comprehensive words, he lowers even more to lay right beside her. A few minutes pass before he can speak. “Why didn't you tell me earlier?”

“Many reasons.”

“Examples?”

She sighs. “I was afraid, you weren't… emotionally available, I was a walking hurricane. So much I can't even put into words.”

“What about Talbott?”

It’s almost a slap to hear his name alone in Charlie’s presence. “I did love him, but… I never forgot you. There was always the shadow of what I felt for you looming over us until it wasn’t sustainable anymore.”

His breath trembles. “Bloody hell, Junie. Isn't even ten am yet.”

She chuckles. “I'm sorry for dropping this bomb on you like this.” Her voice is monotonous again, trying hard to swallow her feelings. “I'll leave if you-”

“I don't want you to leave.”

She turns to him. “But I don't know if I can stay.”

“Why couldn't you?”

“I can't stop this. These feelings, they're tenacious, like a little creature that'll only grow the longer I stay close to you.”

He turns his body her way. “What if I want it to grow?”

“It might consume me. You.”

“I'm used to it. To creatures that might consume me. Including you.”

She can’t help a smile. “What are you impling Charles?”

“That neither can I hold back what I feel for you. I didn’t have a word for it before but now I do.”

And just like that, things aren’t as heavy as Juniper had predicted for years. It is significant, but not heavy. She loves him, a fact like that of the grass being green or that of fire burning.  (How many times had Marwa told her to stop cowarding away and just confess her feelings? If Juniper had only known it’d be this liberating, this soft.) And just as light, Charlie’s reciprocating affection.

He's staring directly at her, glancing at her lips indiscreetly — never feeling as seen as she does right now, even if she’s sure she definitely doesn’t look her best, having lost too much weight in the past months, distressed, and loss of her sunkissed glow, but it doesn’t matter, not when his eyes tell her otherwise. He then draws his hand up, slowly, to touch her cheek, palm hot against her cold skin.

“Juniper.”

“Charlie.”

His caloused thumb brushes its way to her lips, glancing at them as if asking for permission. She reaches out, fingers in his hair, streaks reflecting the firelight in colours she hasn't seen anywhere else.

“You don't have to do this alone,” he whispers.

She nods and he finally allows himself, leaning in a soft press of lips, slow and sure, the faintest flavour of honey in their mouths, the back of his fingers caressing her cheekbones. The house engulfed in the scent of cinnamon and burning logs, but to Juniper it smells like desire mixed with Autumn. She reaches out and wraps her weak arms around him to bring him closer, she feels comfortable to do so — he’s the most important thing she has, equating only to her own life, she has to hold him the tightest she can.

Yet his lips remain soft and slow, savouring this moment of fresh blossom of love. Their first kiss together, therefore it has to be long and sweet and loving. She loves him and isn’t that enough? To know that across the table there’s someone who wants you, with her warm eyes like coffee in the morning and her french-blue hair, to know that throughout all those years most times her eyes had laid upon him with love, desire, affection.

He keeps their foreheads touching as he pulls away. “I’m not going anywhere, Junie. And I’m not letting you go either.”

“I know.”

“We’ll get through this.”

“We have to get through it.”

“And I’ll be with you on the other side. Marwa would be proud of you for living.”

She’s crying even before he’s done speaking. “Thank you.”

“No, no thank yous.” He brushes a strand of her hair back. “I love you.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I love you, Juniper. I do.” He begins laughing — a weight immediately lifting from his chest as the words have finally been freed. He kisses her again and neither can help smiling against the other’s lips.

For the first time in a while she doesn’t feel bad doing so, doesn’t feel guilty for being happy without Marwa, because Charlie's right, because behind closed eyes she can almost hear it, her laugh from the kitchen, proud of her. I hope you're proud of me.