#not sure what to seal it with tho

[murdochia]

Finished my 911 pinset!

[pangolen]

.

[daydreaming-nerd]

for the bat boys (or bat boys x feyre), I really wanna see rhys just tied down, desperate, and overwhelmed with pleasure. like everybody just decides to show their high lord some love!! I wanna see rhys in tears (in a good way), and they just praise him and love on him so good!! I can def see rhys having a major praise kink. feel free to ignore tho, thank you!!💖

Our Girl (Bat Boys! x Female! Reader) 

Based off this ask as well

AN: HAHAHA guys I’ve been reading The L.O.R.D.S series by Shantel Tessier and I’ve been fucking loving it. Also I wrote the second half of this in a fucking Barnes and Noble cafe, I was SWEATING, but I wanted to get it done for you because I have some cool Az stuff I’m working on for you!

Summary: When Rhysand becomes High Lord the boys find themselves too busy and too well known to visit their local pleasure house. So they hire the reader to to satisfy their needs.

Warnings: Smut (shocker),sub/dom dynamic, dirty talk, bondage, threesome, objectification, size difference??

Word count: 6,058

Things in Velaris were changing. The second the new High Lord rose to power it was like things were lighter. Shops stayed open later, the people laughed and drank at dinner more often, everything was just better. Yet in the Riverhouse at the edge of the city it seemed there were clouds stirring, in a metaphorical way of course. 

No one had seen Rhysand since the night his father died, which was months ago. 

The most powerful High Lord.

The most dangerous High Lord. 

The most handsome High Lord

And known by the girls at the pleasure house…the most well endowed High Lord.

At least what all my coworkers were whispering around me the day I was brought to the front by the mistress who ran the place. In all honesty I thought I was in trouble, not that I had done anything wrong in the past year I had been here. But no one ever got called to her office for nothing. 

I closed the door behind me to where my mistress was reading a letter, a violet wax seal stamped to the front. Her red hair and red gown complimented the scarlett of her office, of the whole pleasure house really. She claimed it was the color of passion, and demanded that we all practically bathe in it. 

“You asked to see me?” I say timidly. 

I couldn’t afford to lose this job, I had no family, no support system. Nothing to rely on or depend on. Sure it wasn’t the most prestigious career, but I did like it. I had always been interested in sex, fascinated with it really. The woman who lived next door to my family growing up was a sex worker. She always wore the most beautiful gowns and jewels, and lured the most handsome men to her home. My mother cursed me when I said I wanted to look like her one day but I didn’t care. 

“Yes I have a letter here, from the High Lord,” she says, showing me the letter she had been reading when I walked in. 

My eyes widen and the air is sucked from my lungs. What could the High Lord want with the house? Hell, what would the High Lord want with me? 

“The High Lord?” I gawk, taking a step forward attempting to catch a glance at the letter. 

She puts her glasses back down on her nose and reads the paper again, “yes, he asks that I send my very best girl to his townhouse at my earliest convenience.” 

“And you’re picking me?” I ask, my eyes wide. 

“You rake in more money than all the rest of the girls, you’re beautiful, elegant and well versed. I can think of no one better.” she explains setting the letter down on the desk.

My mind swirls, what does the High Lord want? Well sex of course, but I wasn’t one for house calls. Though I suppose he was the High Lord , he couldn’t very well walk in here with the anonymity that others could. 

“Well don’t just stand there!” my mistress shouts. “Go to the townhouse before he thinks me to be a simple fool.” 

I jilt from my thoughts and nod, walking briskly out the door. I bypass the other girls who are chatting about the High Lord and I wonder if any of them are aware of the letter that was sent, what his intentions might be. I guess there’s only one way to find out. 

I had watched the townhouse on the hill my entire life, knew that the High Lord lived there, and constantly wondered what it might be like inside. It was like the scary house at the end of the street that children stayed away from; it had been built up to that mythical status. Except it wasn’t scary—unless you counted scarily prestigious.

As I walked up the front steps and knocked on the door a woman with dark skin and   darker hair opened it and signaled for me to come in. The lush, thick, carpets gave reprieve to my aching feet. Stilettos on cobblestone was never a good idea, but what else did one wear to meet their High Lord? 

She gestured to a set of double doors at the end of the hall. I took in my surroundings, for what it was worth the place was beautiful. Ornate but tasteful. Expensive but lived in. I can see why the High Lord never left. I took a deep breath but before I could even knock on the doors a deep voice, one that could only be described as Night Triumphant, beckoned me to enter. 

I creaked open the door to find the High Lord busily doing paperwork at his desk. He was nothing and everything that I had expected. When the girls at the home whispered of his looks, his charm, I thought of something mythical. But the male before me? He transcended even that. 

His legendary violet eyes flitted up to mine and I swore my breath caught in my throat. He sat his papers down to the side as he stood, bracing his hands on his desk. If his height didn’t make me feel small the sheer power radiating off of him did. 

“My, my,” he croons, rounding the desk to lean against the front. “You are exquisite,” he says, crossing his strong arms in front of his chest. 

I suddenly remember the reason I was summoned here in the first place and I put on the mask, the role I was supposed to play. 

“Well my Lord, you asked for the very best.” I say smoothly taking two steps towards him. “So here I am.” 

“While I love the way ‘my Lord’ rolls off that pretty tongue, feel free to call me Rhysand, you’re going to be here for a while.” he smirked, and I swore there was a star that flashed in his eye. 

I nearly gulped at his words. 

You’re going to be here for a while…

I had been with needy men before, made a career out of it. But this was no man, and I wondered if I could keep up with him. 

“As you wish,” I say nodding my  head obediently. Males like him strived for dominance, it was my job to anticipate that. 

I feel a hand tilt my chin up and once again I’m met with his intense gaze. I was right about the stars, his eyes were littered with them. 

“The selfish part of me wants to play with you right now, but I have a feeling my brothers would be more than angry at me for having you first,” he smirked, his breath so hot on my face I almost jumped when I realized how close he was to me. 

Wait, the High Lord didn’t have brothers, he was an only child, an orphan really. “Brothers?” I ask, the question had slipped out before I could think of a better more professional way to ask. 

“Well not my biological brothers, but my brothers in arms I suppose,” he smirks, releasing my chin taking a step back towards his desk again. “Cassian, the general of my armies and Azriel my spymaster.” 

My breath gets caught in my throat. I had heard stories of the High Lord’s most trusted members of his court. They were large, Illyrian, and death on swift wings. My face must’ve given away my shock as Rhysand let out a low chuckle. 

“Don’t worry they won’t hurt you. They are to care for you as I do, it’s all written here in your contract,” he explained, sitting down and sliding a piece of paper over the desk. 

I made myself comfortable in the seat opposite of him, plucking the paper from the desk and skimming it over.

“You see,”  he begins. “Becoming High Lord has been rewarding but…well…tiring. Cassian and Azriel are just as tired. We aren’t given the same anonymity we had in our youth which has made finding sexual release difficult.” he said, his cheeks blushing slightly. 

“You’ll live here, I already have a room prepared for you. I’ll provide you with a salary  and provide for you in any way you need. In return you provide us with your…services?” he says the last word like he can’t think of a better way to say it. How is he sexy reading my contract to me?

I set the contract on the desk, “And what are the parameters of these services?” I ask leaning forward on the desk. 

Rhysand smiles leaning forward with me, “Mostly we will seek you out on our own but there will be certain times, like tonight, where we will want to share,” he grins like he can already see the scene. 

I nod slowly waiting for him to add anything else and he does. 

“Of course there will be safewords, though I doubt you will need them. Your mistress said you have a rather large palette,” he says and I get his meaning immediately. 

I can’t help but blush, the male already knows more about me than I do him. Something that rarely ever happens in my line of work.

“She didn’t mislead you,” I say, my lips tugging into a small smile. 

“Then you’ll take the job?” he asks plucking a fountain pen from its resting place. 

I look at the large number with lots of zeros written under ‘Salary’, it’s more than I make in three months. I could pay off all my debts with the first two paychecks, and after that? Well the shops of Velaris wouldn’t know what hit them. I could have the life I always dreamed of, expensive silks, fancy soaps, wine aged for thousands of years. And all I had to do was sleep with the three most powerful males in the Night Court. What female could possibly say no?

“I will,” I say, plucking the pen out of the High Lord’s hands singing the marked places next to his ornate signature. 

I look up to see Rhysand already staring at me, with a lust I hadn’t seen before, not in any male. How long had it been since he had sex?

He stands holding his hand out to me, “Allow me to show you to your room.”

“Are you ready to meet them?” Rhys asks with a glint in his violet eyes. 

I nod.

“Good I’ll go preface in, come in when I call you,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to my brow. 

Gods this man was incredible. Paycheck aside, I think I would bend over backwards just to hear him call me a good girl again. Something told me I would be doing just that for the foreseeable future. 

Rhysand opened the double doors and slipped in, the moment he closed it I pressed my ear to the door so that I could hear him. 

“Rhys what’s this about? I have business to attend to,” I hear a deep voice rumble. 

Rhys’ signature chuckle echoes off the walls, “I assure you Cassian that this is well worth your time.” he says. “Az you look tense,” he jests. 

“That’s because I am.” groans another voice. “We’ve been running all around the court righting all wrongs while you sit holed up in here doing paperwork.” 

“As I am well aware,” Rhys starts again. “And I don’t want to be known as the High Lord that merely takes, especially from the two males  I consider to be my brothers. So, I got you a little gift.” 

A pause of anticipatory silence fills the room. 

“Darling won’t you come out now?” Rhys beckons me. 

I open the door to find Rhys standing before two Illyrians sitting on the couch, both of them relaxed like this was their own home, and perhaps it was. 

“Huh?” asked the slightly larger one, with longer black hair. 

“She’s your gift, well, our gift,” Rhys said, pulling a hand around my waist. “I just hired her from the pleasure house in town, she is the best of the best. I know we all haven’t been able to visit the establishment since I came into power and I’m sure you’re both just as…frustrated as I am.” 

“How long do we have her for?” the same Illyrian asked, the one beside him seemingly more quiet. 

“She will be living with us. Use her as you’d like. Dress her however you want, but keep it classy. She’s as much yours as she is mine” Rhys smiles tilting my chin to meet his gaze and I swore my knees trembled a bit. “Though I’m sure she’ll remember who pays her?” he teases. 

“Yes my Lord,” I say seductively, it used to be an act, but not anymore. 

“My Lord,” he repeats. “I quite like the sound of that,” he purrs, looking over to the males sitting on the couch. 

The one with the red siphons smirks, throwing his arms over the back of the couch and spreading his legs. His thighs alone were the size of my head and I couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to get myself off on them alone. 

“Come here princess, sit on my lap,” he purrs, patting his thigh. 

I slip out of Rhysand’s grasp and pad over to perch myself on the Illyrians leg. The rippling muscles under me tensing. His hand comes up to brush a stray hair from my face as he takes in every inch of me. 

“You are a pretty little thing aren’t you?” he smirks as his other hand comes to support my back. 

Oh I was in for it, I was so in for it. 

“She’s the best of the best, her name is y/n.” Rhysand drawls watching intently as his brother who I have deciphered is Cassian, inspects me. “We decided earlier that her safeword will be starlight,”

“Y/n, huh?” he smiles brushing a stray hair from my face as he drinks in my attire, something Rhysand had clearly purchased for me to wear tonight. A black sheer little nightgown. Revealing, yet classy like he has said. It was clear to me that the male had exquisite taste. 

I feel a warm leather bump into my back as a scarred hand runs over my shoulder. I crane my neck up to find Azriel standing above me, from where he stands he can no doubt get a great view of my tits. 

“How should we thank dear old Rhysand for this marvelous present?” Cassian asks Azriel and the shadow singers eyes gleam.

“Oh I can think of a few ways,” he smirks. 

As if they all had one mind we were winnowed to the bedroom upstairs, my bedroom I realized. The bed had been made big enough for all of us, and I wonder how empty it would feel when the boys weren’t around. 

I look around me, the positions of us all haven’t changed. I find myself gazing up at Azriel, the hungry look in his eye has me taking a step back only to bump right into Cassian earning a chuckle from the general.  A glace to my bed has me seeing Rhysand sitting on it’s edge. 

“Az,” Cassian mumbles, sharing a knowing look at the shadow singer.

Before I can put together the pieces of Cassian and Azriel’s interaction, bands of shadows shoot from all over the room wrapping themselves around the hands and wrists of the High Lord. Rhys struggles for a moment, like it's second nature before he gives in, his face stern. 

“Az that’s enough,” he scowls. 

Azriel brushes off the command and turns my chin to meet his gaze. His finger brushes over my  bottom lip and I close my top lip over his thumb, giving it a gentle experimental suck. His eyes darken and the next thing I know I’m sucking on his thumb and looking at him like a doe eyed fool. 

“What a good girl she is,” he croons before dragging my face to him, replacing his thumb with his lips. 

His kiss and deep and searing, like nothing I’ve ever tasted before. His hands come to cup my face, keeping me there as he kisses me like a starved male. Gods, how long had it been since any of them had sex?

My hair is pushed to the side as I feel the general begin to leave sloppy kisses on my neck. He pulls my hips toward him, and I’m met with his hard on pressed to my back and his bare chest warming my skin. Azriel steps back with love drunk eyes and Cassian takes his opportunity to turn my hips so I’m facing him. 

Somehow he’s even more hulking and intimidating when bare. My eyes glance over the expanse of well built muscles to where his cock is already hard and leaking, and by the size of it I could tell I would be sore tomorrow. 

From behind me I can hear the faint unclasping of buckles signaling that Azriel is mimicking Cassian’s movements. 

“Let’s see you now, little one,” the general smirks before sliding both straps of the see through the gown off my shoulders. The black mesh falls to a pool of fabric on the floor and I’m laid bare for him, for all of them. 

A snap reverberates through the room pulling my attention to Rhysand, his sophisticated garb now long gone. The plains of his toned muscles and swirling tattoos that resemble his brothers on full display along with his aching cock. He’s even more marvelous nude than he is clothed. His lips tug up at the corner as he sees me eye fucking him. 

Cassian’s hand goes under my bare breast bringing my attention back to him, it seems that while I was ogling Rhys, he was studying me. 

“Rhys you’ve outdone yourself,” Cassian smirks and I’ve never felt so exposed. “Her tits are perfect,” he smiles before bending down to suckle an aching nipple into his mouth. 

I moan and lean back ever so slightly into a muscled chest, when I open my eyes Azriel stares down at me. A scarred hand drifts over my shoulder, down my side, and across my bum until it cups my sex and I gasp. 

Cassian’s lips smile against my breast before he moves on to the next one, my breath catching in my throat once again. 

“So small,” Azriel teases, referring to my cunt. “I’m not sure she can take us.” The glint in his eye tells me that this is a challenge, a test. 

“I can,” I say confidently and the shadowsinger laughs. 

“I think I’ll test that out,” Cassian grumbles, taking me in his arms. 

I’m pulled from Azriel’s fiery touch as the warmth of Cassian seeps into me. For the first time in a while my eyes snap to Rhysand. His brow was laced with sweat, as well as the skin on his chest. 

“Oh poor Rhys, did you want to touch her?” Azriel taunted, I was honestly surprised that they would dare to put their High Lord in this position. 

“Please,” Rhysand whimpered, making my heart lurch. 

Did  the most powerful High Lord, the most dangerous High Lord. the most handsome High Lord, the most well endowed High Lord… just beg? 

A sudden boost of confidence fills my chest. 

“Az pull him back on the bed, I’m going to be needing some room,” Cassian boasts massaging circles on my hips. 

Rhysand is pulled to the headboard, the shadows on his wrists pulling his arms out to either side as well as the ones on his ankles, preventing him from getting any sort of friction. The High Lord cursed, as if the brief fiction on his balls from being dragged across the sheets might’ve been enough to get him off.  The logical part of me knew that he could break free of these restraints at any given moment, hells the power practically radiated off of him. But he was here to play the game and I was too. 

“Why don’t you go play with your High Lord a little bit sweetheart,” Cassian croons, clearly loving the power trip he’s on. I take two steps forward before the general grabs me by the throat hauling me to his chest again. I look up at him like a love sick fool. “But stay clear of his cock. He’ll be the last to cum tonight. Doesn’t that seem fair Az?” 

“Seems more than fair to me, seeing as we’ve been doing all the flying around these past few weeks,” Azriel chuckles. 

Cassian releases my throat and I make my way over to the breathless High Lord. It takes everything in me not to straddle him and take him right there. His cock was red, angry, practically begging for it.

I sit on the edge of the bed to his right giving him my best bedroom eyes. Gone was the cocky male from earlier who made all sorts of promises of bedding me the best. Instead a male stripped to his most vulnerable sat before me, chest heaving, eyes wild. The muscles of his arms and legs flexing and bulging from trying to break free of the shadows that bound him, the bindings that made him this way. 

“They aren’t being very fair to you are they?” I say seductively trailing a hand down his shoulders, over the plains of his chest and to his abs. 

He shudders under my touch, “no they aren’t,” he breathes. 

“Mmm,” I hum, placing a kiss on his neck, even the thin sheen of sweat on him tasted divine. “And you were so nice, sharing your little fuck toy with them and now they won’t let me play with you,” I say donning a fake sadness. 

My hand brushes over his hip bone and down his thigh, carefully avoiding the hard erection begging to be brushed. 

“Please,” he whimpers his lips hot on my cheek, and I swear I hear Cassian and Azriel chuckle behind me. 

My hand swoops to his inner thigh, teasing the muscles there. His whimper has me caving, and I feel as though I’m suddenly not acting of my own accord as my hand wanders towards his cock. 

“Ah, ah, ah!” I hear Cassian tut before scooping  me into his arms and pulling me away from Rhys. Causing the latter to groan in frustration. 

“Using daemati to get a female to jerk you off? That’s a new low for you, Rhys.” Azriel chuckles 

Daemati. That would explain why I didn’t feel like I was in control for that one moment. I had heard that the High Lord possessed such powers, but I thought they were simply myths. 

I feel myself being bent over the storage bench at the end of the bed, the cloth covered fluff cushioning my knees and hands as I feel a harsh slap to my bum. 

“Fuck this is going to be so good,” Cassian murmurs from behind me. 

Azriel stands at the other end of the bench fisting his cock but before he can speak Cassian enters me. 

“Oh Gods!” I scream as I feel myself being pushed forward on my hands. 

The stretch of the general filling me so completely had me wondering if Azriel was right about my ability to take them all earlier. Cassian’s hands come to pull me down onto him, as if he needed the help to fully sheathe himself. One hand on my lower back, one on my hip.

“Shit she’s so fuckin’ tight,” Cassian groans as he begins to rock into me.

“Please, please,” Rhysand begs from his spot on the bed. 

I don’t even bother to see the new beads of sweat dripping from his brow, the drops of precum leaking out of his painfully hard cock. Hell, I can’t even think about anything other than the feeling of Cassian picking up the pace behind me. 

“Shh Rhys, I’m enjoying this tight little pus,” Cassian groans, tightening his hold on my hips. 

My arms are starting to go limp when Azriel’s hand tilts my chin up so he can see my fucked out face. 

“Open your mouth little one,” he says, fisting his cock and I obey like a puppet on a string. “What a good girl,” he smirks before tapping his cock on my outstretched tongue. 

“Fuck her mouth Az,” Cassian groans doubling down on his thrusts behind me. 

“You’re such an obedient little thing, I think I’m going to have a lot of fun with you.” he croons before thrusting his cock inside my mouth. 

The general’s relentless hammering shoves Azriel’s cock down my throat in perfect tandem and I start to wonder if there are other females who have found themselves in my position. With the way they fuck both ends of me so efficiently I wouldn’t doubt it.

It isn’t until my drool is falling down my face mixing with my tears that Azriel grips my hair forcing me down on his cock more. The male became more needy than he had been all night as his soft grunts filled the room. My eyes flitted to his hazel ones and a self satisfied smirk crossed his face. 

“You like this don’t you? You like being fucked in both your little holes?” He teases me, pulling my hair harder. 

His words have me whimpering around him and curling my toes. The spymaster was right, I loved this. That I could make these males, the most powerful in the Night Court, so feral, so unhinged. 

Cassain chuckles behind me slapping my ass again, “Too bad we don’t have someone to fuck this third hole back here,” he says taunting Rhys as I feel him trace a finger over that said third hole. 

“Fuck,” Rhys hisses from where Azriel has him restrained, watching the show they’re giving him. 

I feel my legs starting to tremble beneath me and as they start to give out Cassian swipes both hands under my hips to keep me upright. So upright my knees don't even touch the bench anymore allowing him to fuck me harder, deeper, and faster.

“You going to cum little one?” Cassian taunts me, picking up the pace a bit. 

My whine is enough to have Azriel slamming his hips into my face, spilling himself down my throat as my nose brushes the hair at the base of his cock. For a moment I can’t breathe at all, as I feel his seed spill over my tongue. When he pulls out I finally take in a deep breath, which is short lived as he grabs my chin forcing me to meet his gaze again. 

“Swallow,” he orders. 

I do as I’m told, feeling the thick white ropes slide down my throat, warming my stomach. 

His thumb tugs my jaw down forcing my mouth open as he makes sure every last drop is gone. When he’s satisfied he closes my mouth and gives my cheek a light slap, “good girl.” he mutters. 

“Finally,” Cassian breathes and I feel my front being shoved into the cushions on the bench before me, allowing Cassian to drive deeper. It seems his brother's use of my mouth was quite the inconvenience for him.

I make eye contact with Rhys who's painting and sweating. Moans and curses fall from his lips as he watches Cassian take me hard. It’s not long until I’m cumming around his cock.

“Oh gods!” I scream feeling my legs shake and the knot in my stomach unwind as I cum all over the general’s cock. 

Cassian growls, deep and primal, before delivering one last thrust, spilling himself into me, “That’s a good girl. Take it, take all of it.” he groans, forcing my body down. 

As the Illyrian pulls out of me I can feel my heart beating in my throat and in my head. My chest rises and falls in time with my shaking legs. But I know I’m not done, not while Rhysand looks at me like I’m water and he’s been wandering the deserts of summer for too long.

“You were so good, Rhys,” Cassian taunts, running his hand down the High Lord’s leg making his chest rise faster. “We just wanted to thank you for your wonderful gift, didn’t we Az?” 

Azriel nodded next to me, his scarred hands pulling me up  by my shoulders and then  hoisting me up by my thighs so my back was to his front. The position was more than awkward, but as he placed me on his High Lord’s shaking lap I understood why. 

“Make him feel real good princess, we love our Rhysie,” Azriel laughs upon seeing Rhys breath picking up. Despite his words he kept his restraints on the Lord, one last test. 

I place my hands on his chest, the skin there cold and clammy, and I can’t help but want to feel more. His eyes are blown out, and I feel as though he’s looking right through me. He’s a vision like this, maybe even more so than when he was sitting behind his desk looking like sheer power. He was vulnerable here. 

I run a hand down his face like I’m unable to help it and his eyes widen, “So handsome my Lord,” I breathe. “What do you want from me?” I ask as I press my lips to his.

He can hardly kiss back, can hardly even think besides anything but the need. Beside him his brothers run a hand through his hair and whisper praises to him, trying to bring him back. 

“Anything p-please, t-touch me,” he whimpers and I swear I see a tear roll down his face.  From not being touched at all, to being touched everywhere but where he needs most, the High Lord was being pushed to his limits. 

“Yes my Lord,” I whisper before sinking myself on his cock. 

Where Cassian was thicker, Rhysand was long, digging so deep into me that I felt a pinch as he brushed my cervix. The pain bringing me back from the fuck out haze the spymaster and the general left me in. 

Rhysand hissed low, “Oh fuck yes,” he groans pushing his head back on the headboard. 

Cassian’s hand comes up to brush the fallen hair and sweat from his High Lord’s head, “She’s a tight little thing isn’t she?” he asks, pressing a kiss to his temple. 

I splay my hands across Rhys’ chest, trying to give myself the leverage needed to bounce myself up and down on his cock. The slow drag of him inside of me has me scrunching my eyes shut trying to savor every sensation. My shaking legs make it hard to move myself up and down. 

“More, p-please,” Rhysand groans, his voice dropping deeper and starting to resemble the tone I heard this afternoon. 

“Az give her a hand,” Cassian instructs from where he sits by Rhys. 

I feel Azriel settle in behind me, his warm chest bumping against the clammy skin of my back. His hands lift my hips helping me to bounce up and down like I’m nothing but a cocksleeve. The motion makes me gasp and writhe as I’m able to settle to a faster and more stable pace. 

“Oh fuck Az,” Rhysand bites out. “I can’t,” he groans and I watch the muscles of his chest and arms go taut as he pulls on the shadowy bindings that keep him from touching me. 

The strain in his arms and chest is so great that I can see each individual muscle the Lord had built through the years. I couldn’t help but run my hands over him feeling each one. 

“Let him go Az,” Cassian instructs the shadowsinger and within seconds the bindings are gone, like even Az wanted to see what his High Lord would do next. 

Rhysand’s hands fall from the headboard and find their way to my hips. Turns out him not being able to touch me was a punishment for both of us. He shifts his hips so I fall forward, and he connects his lips to mine as he thrusts up into me, putting me at his mercy.

He consumes my mouth fully, running his hands up and down my sides greedily before squeezing my breast making me moan into his mouth. The way he kisses me tells me that I’m no longer in charge and neither is anyone else in this room for that matter. 

His lips detach from mine and fall to my neck leaving opened mouthed kisses there. His hands leave bruises in the skin of my hips as he slams up into me, his cock hitting my cervix with each stroke, those initial stings of pain becoming pleasure. 

“Oh fuck Rhys,” I moan completely forgetting his title. 

“Say it again,” he growls, his voice dangerously low. “Let them know who owns you!” 

I had completely forgotten about the other Illyrians in the room with us. I glance to the side to find Azriel fisting his cock beside me. When I don’t moan the Lord name again a swift slap comes across my ass. 

“Rhysand!” I cry out, feeling the euphoria of him. 

“Fuck it,” he seethes and before I register what he means by it, my back hits the mattress. 

The new position gives him a new range of motion to piston into me. Somehow he’s able to hit me even deeper this way.  Causing me to let out wanton cries and moans as he fucks me, my polished nails scraping down his back trying to find purchase. 

“Yeah Rhys get it!” Cassian cheers from the edge of the bed. 

The taunt makes the High Lord feral, slamming his hips into me. He’s more animal than man at this point having been teased all night. The near primal growl he lets out has me cumming on his cock, my back arching off the back, my moan guttural. 

My cunt squeezes his cock as pleasure lights up my body like lightning, and it isn’t long until  I feel his hips stutter as he cums inside of me with a groan. 

“Oh fuck yes,” his voice is like gravel as I feel him spilling inside of me endlessly, his seed joining Cassian’s. 

Faintly, through the roaring in my ears I can hear Cassian and Azriel’s grunts as well as they finish. The idea of them getting off to their High Lord cumming inside of me is almost enough to make me beg him to do it again. But as he collapses beside me I feel how spent I truly am. 

Rhys hand comes to brush back my hair from my face as he places a kiss to my temple, “Such a good girl for us,” he says to me before turning to Cassian again, “Go get her a towel and a glass of water.” he orders, clearly re-assuming his role as the High Lord. 

He spends the next minute or so running a hand over my hair as he cradles me to his chest soothing me. My breath starts to slow and I feel a warm towel beneath my legs as Cassian wipes away the mess they both made. Glass touches my lips as Rhys helps me to drink the water brought to me. Whatever I don’t finish he downs in one go. 

“Leave us,” he orders pulling the covers over our cold and clammy bodies. 

“What no post sex cuddles for me?” Cassian laughs, throwing up his hands. I laugh before placing a kiss on Rhys chest, as much as I wouldn’t mind all three of them holding me right now I know who pays my bills now. 

“Fine,” Rhys huffs, throwing back the covers behind me so Cass can slip in. 

I wonder where Azriel will lie, but when my eyes search for him he’s already out the door walking to his own room undoubtedly. Something tells me he’s different from his two brothers, he’s quiet, but the words he told me earlier have me wondering what’s up his sleeve.

Cassian’s arms curl around me, and eventually the three of us fall asleep. But the voice that swims through my head as sleep takes me is Azriel’s.

I think I’m going to have a lot of fun with you…

(This is going to be a series! I think I'll do one for each bat boy! If you want to be tagged let me know and if there's any kinky shit you wanna see let me know in the comments or drop it in my inbox!)

Taglist: @yearninglustfully, @moviesismylife,  @readingislife2006, @bookishbroadwaybish, @danikamariemain,  @winchesterbbygrl

Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always @crystalferret202, @batboyrhyrhy , @kennedy-brooke , @sunshineangel-reads , @lilah-asteria , @evergreenlark

[swordsandholly]

def need more ditzy reader with mechanic 141- the only thing that tops my love for military men is blue collar boys <333

make sure to take care of yourself tho lovie!! don’t burn urself out :))

I for sure want to write more of her. Hopefully after this insane week at work I’ll be able to really sit down and crank out some writing. For now I’m battling my way through Ch 3 of Across the Way

But pls enjoy this little not proofread experimental snippet I wrote for ditzy reader

“Look.” Your landlord sighs loudly. Like you’re the one inconveniencing him. “I’ll send someone out.”

“That’s what you said two days ago! And three days before that!” You stomp your foot at no one just to get some of the anger out.

“I’ll get to it when I get to it.”

“Why can’t you-“ The line cuts before you can finish. The jerk hung up on you! What the hell!

You pout, plopping down into your desk chair and sighing. What are you supposed to do? You’re not allowed to call a handyman according to the lease and you don’t have a boyfriend right now. You can’t keep washing pans in the bathroom. It’s gross.

You huff.

“Alright?” Simon asks and you whirl in your chair. How does he walk so quietly?

“Yeah…” You pout harder under his steady gaze, slipping down further into the chair.

“You’re a terrible liar, luv.” His eyes crinkle in corners with a smile.

“Well…” You shrug, twiddling your thumbs in your lap. “My kitchen sink has been broken for a whole week and the landlord won’t do anything about it! I called and called and he just keeps saying he’ll send someone and then doesn’t!” Your voice pitches at the end, real annoyance bleeding through into the edges of your words. You fist your hands in your skirt.

“That’s all?” He raises an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you just ask one of us?”

You blink twice, staring up at him. Your face heats and you look away bashfully - not wanting to admit you didn’t think to ask for their help. Stupid. “I don’t want to be a bother…”

“I’ll come by after work.”

“You don’t have to-“

“I’ll be there.” He nods before marching back into the garage. You just blink after him as he goes.

True to his word, Simon shows up at your door with a massive tool box in hand. Really, he still can’t believe you live in such a shit complex. Price pays you well enough. The locks might as well be paper-mache. Simon lowers his mask before knocking. He trusts you with his face - hell you probably forget it every time you look away - but he also wants you to trust him too. For whatever reason.

You’re staring when you open the door. Big doe eyes looking up at him and blinking slowly. He wonders what goes on behind those blank eyes of yours - if it’s nothing at all or such a chaotic dialogue that you can’t process it enough to pay attention.

All or nothing.

“Gonna let me in, doll?” He asks. You startle, not realizing how intensely you zoned out.

“Oh! Yes!” You jump out of the way, letting him into your small studio apartment. Every time he thinks your shorts can’t get smaller he’s proven wrong.

Simon takes a look around, huffing at the net full of stuffies hanging on the wall. Everything about your home is soft - soft colors, soft fabrics. It smells like vanilla, just like you always do when you come into the shop. His eyes lock briefly on a well-loved sewing machine covered in stickers with a project still under the needle. You must have been working on it before he got here.

Did you mean to leave your bra hanging on the back of that chair right by the kitchen? Lacy and lilac. He’ll have to remember that for some other time. Maybe your birthday.

“Let’s ‘ave a look.” He sighs, knees popping as he crouches in front of the sink. It’s a fucking mess, that’s for sure. At least you figured out how to turn the water off.

“Pipe’s busted.” He says. “I can seal it but it’ll take a sec.”

“Okay.” You murmur.

Simon sighs as he turns onto his back to get a better look. He doesn’t miss the way you stare blatantly at his midsection as his shirt rides up. He might adjust some to expose just a bit more.

You really are the least subtle thing in the planet, aren’t you?

“Can you come hold the light f’me, luv?” He points to the toolbox.

“This one?” You ask, as if it isn’t the only flashlight in the box.

“Yeah.”

“Like this?”

“Yup.” At first he expects you to sit silently so he can concentrate, but he quickly realizes that was far too presumptuous.

“Do you have a girlfriend, Si?” You ask quietly.

He huffs. “No.”

“Oh.” You chew your lip. “You seem like the kind of guy that would.”

Simon has never heard a bigger misread in his damn life but he’ll take it as a compliment, he supposes. “Why do you ask?”

“Cause this is boyfriend work and you’re good at it.”

Simon tries to see your logic - he really does - but he just has no clue how those things are even remotely related. Sure, guys fix things for their girlfriends but calling it ‘boyfriend work’ when anybody with two cents could do it is a bit silly. More than, if he’s honest. He just grunts in response, at a total loss for how to respond.

Simon looks down at you. The way you kneel as your cleaving spills out of your tiny tank top - one of many you insist on wearing so often. He can give into temptation just a little bit, right? “Gonna need you to get closer, doll.”

“Oh!” You scoot forward until your knees brush his side. So ready to listen. Cute.

“Can you lean in a bit?”

“Like this?” You lean forward, chest pressing against him while your hand splays over his midsection for balance. Fucking hell.

“Perfect. Good girl.”

It’s bold and a bit uncoordinated even for him. Something Johnny would try. The purposeful choice of words seems to go right over your head. Instead you blush and smile, shifting your hips just a bit. Your chest pushes further into him. So soft.

Fuck.

You’ll be the death of him. Thank god you’re too unobservant to notice that he’s rock fucking hard.

He’s already done with the sink by the time of this little exchange, but he pretends to tighten some useless bolts anyway just to keep you against him a little longer before shooing you away. It’s cute, the way you scramble to get out of the way. Simon turns the water back on before standing, and gesturing toward the sink.

“Give it a try, luv.”

A little furrow forms in your brow as you step forward to turn it on, crouching and standing to make sure the leak has stopped. You turn the faucet off and whip your head around with a grin.

He’s pretty sure you burst an eardrum with the pitch of the squeal you let out, bouncing over and tightly wrapping your arms around his waist. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

“It’s no pro-“ he cuts off as you push up onto your tip toes and press a kiss to his cheek. He can’t help but bark out a laugh. Little minx.

“Oh, I got some lipstick-“ You reach up to smudge it off but he bats your hand away. He’ll wear it back to the garage and show off the kiss he got. Johnny’s going to absolutely fume.

[satoruhour]

racer jjk are so good 😩 i wonder if u can make a part two where is explain how the boys (gojo, geto, nanami, toji) and the reader first met. THANK YOUUU

a/n: thx baby glad u liked them 😉 here you go! also mb if this is lacklustre guys 🧍‍♀i didn’t wanna write smut bc it’d be too similar ig. fun little post! pls still support me 🥹 (nanami’s is a bit suggestive!) / pt.1 here

✶ GOJO

you actually meet his ass when he almost crashes into u and while making a difficult drift turn before swerving at the sight of you. plus  surprise … you’re the police chief’s daughter. gojo at this point is still using a jacked up camaro, so it’s a wonder he’s able to still speed so well away from officers. but it’s not like he was running away from any crime, he just so happened to stumble across an interrogation of a fellow classmate initiated by the police chief’s son (your younger, cop worshipper brother). it was hardly an interrogation tho, more of a bully circle. gojos an cocky man but hes not entirely closed off from things happening around him. when theres people being wrongfully treated he steps in, but he’s pushing the limit a little running away from your brother and his police chief dad. especially when he’s got ties with the racing scene lol. bro doesnt exactly care tho, cause he knew the modifications he made to his engine he’s sure to get away lmaoooo.

there’s a rush of adrenaline that matches the exact moments when the first gear change happens and his foot presses down hard on the break, feeling the familiar sensation of the steering wheel under his fingers as he turns it to the right. nothing like a successful run of a difficult drift route, even more so with an annoying fucking kid chasing him. he was miles behind too, and gojo has to laugh out to himself in the driver’s seat before he yelps out at the shadow on the street.

“damn street lights. don’t even want to spend a few thousand to fix it,” he scoffs, thinking the figure would’ve apologised and ran away, but he’s a little pumped to see you, a relative of the very kid he was running away from. “don’t wanna chase me with daddy over there?”

you notice he’s nodding his head toward the incessant siren, your hotheaded father and your insufferable brother, two of them who butt heads all the time but still manage to get along. you couldn’t care less though, because of their arrogant, conceited behaviour; you vowed never to be like that. your father failed to raise you how he wanted you to turn out: dyed hair at sixteen, a stick ’n poke a year later, colluding with the “wrong” people (they were harmless, he just didn’t like them).

so he turned to your brother, corrupting his mind, and since then, you’ve been a ghost in the house, happy to even be ignored by the conservative kin that find people who are different a ’hassle’. with a story like this, gojo isn’t exactly clueless to your situation so he reaches over and opens the door to the passenger seat in a silent offer.

what’s a little salt in the wound, right?

gojo giggles when you slip in like he knew you would and you simply shrug, knowing this would seal the deal. you know you’re right when you hear furious honks from the police car which is quickly approaching, but watching gojo evade police on the news made you confident he’d outrun them every. single. time. “ooh, doesn’t sound good, princess. i’ll pick you up if you get kicked out of the house.”

it was such a dirty, rude comment that you would’ve slapped him but instead you just burst out laughing, weird noises and all before you’re patting the hand on his stick shift, “drive, hotshot.”

all you can do is roll your eyes with a smile, not missing the exhilarated smile and blush on his cheeks. you already feel at home in the 1969 camaro he’s driving, seeing the exact same car later that night when you’re waiting on the sidewalk with a bulk of your things.

“so much for being daddy’s girl.” gojo smiles, a little sickeningly that you want to punch him (you hear it’s like that from his friends and you find it to be true), but you accept the ride anyway, with a promise he’d get something more later.

✶ GETO

the first time you see him is before a race, having stumbled into the bustling underground of cars and the peak of 2000s fashion because you’re still navigating japan even after six months on an exchange program. it’s difficult when they have different parking lots for every monument building, which all look the same, mind you. it was like a puzzle for your poor mind, especially since there was tons of undocumented alleys in the area you were in. u immediately get hit by the smell of petrol and smoke and conversation and it’s like woah…. stepping entirely into a new world sort of??? even with his fame suguru stays humble tho, keeping gojo ans nanami close to him while keeping his distance from fangirls and stuff. shit gets messy !!!!

gojo nudges geto so hard he almost falls if not for his mazda behind him, and he’s ready to shoot a glare towards satoru but then he looks past the annoying man and into the crowd to find you, doe eyed and looking all around the place like a deer caught in headlights. you’re all dressed up in a cute get-up, hair framing your face so cutely he has half a mind to talk to you. plus, it’s clear you don’t belong here, and there isn’t anything wrong with that but the people here sometimes tend to be a tad bit… stuck-up.

there’s already a few in the crowd giving you weird looks and others giggling, clearly put off by the confused glances you exchange between your phone and the area. geto is prepared to head your way, but his resolve hardens when he sees todo and his gang start to approach the poor person who can only freeze in place.

geto pushes off his car immediately, completely disregarding whatever comment gojo was making while nanami watches silently. todo’s already asked you a question, and when you don’t answer, everyone knows the next thing he’ll do is to humiliate you, but not before geto interferes.

“she’s mine, aoi.” shoving him away, todo only scoffs and spits on the floor beside you because he can’t do anything except leave the place before anything escalates. it’s a clear rule, too, that anyone’s partner or significant other is off-limits, unless you want to propose a race to win them over — but even so it’s not that simple.

the murmurs only heighten when geto asks if you’re okay, a palm on your back to lead you away from the action of everything. thankfully, his mazda and the other two men are stationed at the corner, and the crowd’s attention slowly pulls away from you and onto the revving engines of the two competing cars.

“you okay?” geto looks down, shielding the bright car park lights and peeking a glance at where you were meant to go. it’s a quaint cafe in the basement of a building near shibuya square — a place which could be accessed by the parking lot, but it looks like you took an early turn and ended up in this one instead.

all you could muster up was a nod, mind going a hundred miles per hour just like those cars that were going to race; you’re more focused on his brown eyes that hold yours too well, though, dark and hypnotising that he has to repeat his question.

“yeah. for the most part, i guess. tha—” you mumble, but before you can bow and thank the man who’s already making a mark on your mind with his imposing stature, his friend chimes in.

“don’t mind aoi, he’s just intense like that.” you look past geto to see the white-haired racer who sports a bright grin, and to his side, a blonde, bored-looking guy who’s around the same age. “where you headed?”

geto waves a hand at them and cuts in as you answer, “i’ll take you. don’t mind those two idiots.” his sudden offer has your heart jumping just a bit; a mean brooding guy looking for a little cafe who’s holding a cinnamoroll event at the moment? what a sight to behold.

you’re all prepared to go when gojo tosses the keys to his mazda, and you’re thinking that maybe it really was further than expected but the man is soon leaning down to whisper into your ear.

“but before you go, want to watch me race?” geto grins, noticing that you’re at a loss for words again. you do that a lot, huh. it wouldn’t hurt to show off a little to get you absolutely speechless.

“i’ll treat you to whatever you want in that cute cafe, too.”

✶ NANAMI

ok the small drabble i wrote was sorta how they met but yes basically that!!!! nanami comes in at first (but you’re not doing much, just hanging around in the back), panicking cause he’s got an important race tmr (he just doesn’t gojo to win over whether he would have to borrow one of gojo’s dodge chargers) and hes like ? hes wondering what’s wrong with his dodge and when your dad mentions how he may need to order the parts his world falls apart fr 😭. and then he ends up borrowing it from gojo LMFAOOO. since you guys roughly know their meeting (nanami’s return to the shop after your father fixes the car and then eating you out wheeew) ill highlight life with nanami after that whole shebang!

you like to recall the first time you’ve met nanami, hardly a meeting, really, because you didn’t even see his face, but you hear his voice. a deep timbre with a seriousness to it that tells you that he could’ve fixed his own car if he tried and maybe just lacked the parts. however, you’re appalled when your father comes home later that night and tells you it was a dodge charger they were dealing with, a 1968 release that was no doubt passed down in his generation.

so when you’re peeking out of the supply room the second time nanami returns, you’re not surprised by his blonde hair, possibly a descendant of european blood, but had been born and raised in japan. it wasn’t uncommon, but it felt like he was such a specific ethnicity with the features he had. you’re right when you’re out with nanami a few weeks later, learning his grandfather was danish, smiling as he talked about his family.

it was by chance that he got into the racing scene, getting acquainted with gojo briefly because he was always infuriating in class — but then the both of them began to grow out of high school and entered university, introducing nanami to both geto, gojo’s best friend and to racing. it had made an impression on his heart immediately, reluctantly asking to ride in gojo’s car as they sped through the night and then trying his hand at it later.

“so geto-san was the one who taught you how to drift?” you ask from the passenger seat, a calm atmosphere surrounding the two of you as nanami takes you out for a casual drive along the freeway, bringing you to his favourite place to drift ever since he’s trained there. it was a clean ascent once he reaches the mountain, jogging over to open the door for you before sticking out a hand.

“thank you… kento,” you feel his hand tighten around yours, bringing you around to the front before leaning on the front of the car with you, the jangle of the bracelet he’s got you making noises when he pulls you into his side. it’s been a month with him, yet he already feels so committed, albeit stoic.

but you realise, in the midst of it, you’re the only one who can manage to pry a smile out of him, the lines on his face fading away when he picks you up from your dad’s shop. the loud engine is always an indicator, greeting him at the door of the garage as your father sends you off with a grin, leaning into the driver’s seat to press a peck through the window.

“when you say my name like that,” nanami mumbles, appreciating the scene with his lips in your hair; and while nanami is all soft and gentle with you, sometimes his carnal instincts get the best of him and he says the filthiest things, unprompted, “it makes me want to eat you out on the hood of my car again.”

you roll your eyes with a smile, because you’ve already done it twice: one in the shop and another in a secluded car park, but you know nanami hasn’t glutted his appetite for you yet, and he makes sure you know he never will.

✶ TOJI

the drabble previously mentioned how you were a little older megumi — through tutoring megumi, you met toji. it was a chance encounter sort of, u put up an ad at the end of your second year of uni since the winter break was a little longer than usual, so you decided to earn a bit of pocket money thru tutoring in the one subject you were most comfortable in: humanities. the syllabus in schools nowadays has become harder too, even going as far as to research papers and then scoff in disgust at the intensity of the questions lol … it’s routine in the school system to do that, gearing up for the questions you might be asked when u first get an enquiry call on the line. you hang up with a time and address and when u reach megumi opens the door, but toji emerges from his man cave (garage. hes obsessed w/ his corvette) later and jesus christ hes (almost) six foot of pure dilf that youre considering sidling up to him instead LMAO. esp with how the house looked, it wouldnt be so bad being a old man’s bitch

the doorbell you rang reverberates throughout the house, albeit a bit muffled, but the door opens quickly and you’re met with a black spiky-haired kid, who looks a few years younger than you. but megumi didn’t really need an introduction, because you’re pointing it out to him once inside.

“aren’t you the kid that got suspended for beating up gang members?” sometimes his seniors never knew when to shut up. to this, megumi just sighs.

“yep, that’s me. i told you my name over the phone but,” he extends a hand, “i’m fushiguro megumi.”

you hum and take his hand, introducing yourself as well before a thud makes you snap your head to the noise, where a larger and taller man emerges from the door that connects the living room to the garage. he has features similar to megumi’s and he’s currently clutching his toe, stubbing it on the cabinet on his way out and cursing his head off.

it isn’t difficult to match name to face for him as well, remembering a report you did on the increasingly popular racing scene starting up again. don’t ask — it was a pretty open assignment and you didn’t hesitate to write about the culture back then, something you always wished you lived in.

now, you’re not too taken aback by casually stumbling across fushiguro toji’s home, but more of how he managed to maintain his physique for so many years. if there’s anything your research told you, he was more on the lanky side in his twenties, the right side of his mouth clear from the scar while dominating the drifting scene back in the 80s.

“who’re you, kid?” a little annoyed at the name but you open your mouth to introduce yourself, and toji nods, although confused. it seems like he’s not too involved in megumi’s grades, because when you tell him megumi himself had called you over a bad grade in literature and social studies, his expression drops into an ‘o’. 

“ah, i would’ve taught him myself but…” you knew he dropped out of high school before, living a crap life trying to pay off debts his father had left him and turning to racing and winning bets to make a living out of it. it was scary how this information was so accessible to you via one of his interviews, but you can tell he’s put it long before him, choosing to focus on raising megumi and maintaining his corvette.

“make yourself at home, alright, doll?” doll. you stutter out an affirmative reply.

though when he said that, you hadn’t imagined wandering into the same door he had came out of before. he was probably checking on the condition of his car, knees protruding out of the corvette’s side as he rolls out on the creeper at the sound of someone approaching. you didn’t wish to do this, truly, but when some kids from megumi’s school had attempted to play a prank by picking toji’s lock to get back at megumi, the latter had discovered them after coming out the side door.

needless to say, megumi still holds up his reputation, chasing them down for more than three blocks (it was seven) before proceeding to, you assume, beat them up. you imagine it’s routine for toji at this point, but you still want to at least let him know.

“he’s off again?” toji sits up after hearing your explanation, using the wrench to scratch his temple. sure, he’s only like twenty years older than you — it certainly doesn’t stop you from checking out how his muscles bulge against his compression shirt, or the grey sweatpants he’d got on that you told yourself not to peep at. “don’t mind the kid, i’ll lecture him when he returns later.”

he sighs and grumbles under his breath, expecting you to leave, and when you don’t he just raises an eyebrow, a silent prompt for you to explain what else you needed. you only pointed to the hood. 

“uh… toji-san, if you’re keen on getting back into racing,” toji fully stands up to his height, curious on what you have to say, but also wondering how much balls you had to talk about racing in front of him, “you should really change your 283 cubic-inch V8 to a 327. i, uh, heard the specifications on the new engine has better fuel delivery and horsepower.”

toji relaxes when you actually know your crap, not wanting to deal with another annoying fan begging him to get back into racing, although you’re not entirely off the hook. “and why should i listen to you, hm, doll?”

he stands there, unimpressed, but you didn’t research cars like a madman for nothing. it was a rabbit hole you had commended yourself for diving into, too, because you always had wanted to start, just, how? and that changed when you finally had the opportunity to delve into the complicated world of cars with the help of your friend’s dad who was a mechanic. “um… you really don’t. just giving some pointers, or at least, recommendations that go well with your ’66 corvette.”

oh my god? you know the exact year his chevrolet was released too?

the ex-racer only nods slowly, keeping it in mind for the next time he has the time to switch to an updated engine, but he didn’t expect help to come from your hands the next time, working under the hood like a professional while still leaving the heavy lifting to him. you had fun each time in the garage, exchanging intel and geeking about cars while you both open up to each other — all under the guise of tutoring his son.

since then, toji has taken his corvette out to meet you more than he takes it out for errands, meeting you with a promise that he would take care of your university fees. but none of the time spent with you would’ve warned him that you two would be changing his next engine, too, except that maybe, you were finally his girl.

why does toji’s always end up the longest bye. also this is the only req i’ve gotten, i swear i don’t bite guys. ♡ thirsts and drabble requests are open!

[carolmunson]

always something there to remind me (s.h.)

summary: ten years after the sealing of the upside-down, you and your fiance steve head to a cookout to unwind during memorial day weekend. with steve on edge after a rough half sleep full of night terrors, you hope the day can be salvaged by seeing the party and just relaxing, but a violent thunderstorm changes those plans for the worse. pairings: steve x reader, lumax, edancy. heavy on the steddie brotp tho.

tw: 18+ as always. this story deals with themes of mental illness and ptsd, it is only intended for mature audiences. descriptions of ptsd flashbacks, internal and external (please be advised they are dramatizations). partner violence (unintentional). drinking/smoking. discussions of mental illness. very moody steve but very soft steve. features some tense arguments. smut, like, very loving and passionate smut. this relationship is not perfect, it's also a depiction of a moment in time in 1997. the emotional load was very much a woman's job and i personally think steve would be 'too proud' to be 'too soft' about his stuff. so there are parts that seem kind of 'eh' but -- that's just how things were sorta. gif by @kingofscoops

His pill case sounded like a rattle when you took it from the medicine cabinet, taking it into the kitchen where he was shrugging on his freshly ironed polo. The ironing board and hot iron still set up by the counter. The black stone contrasted nicely against your cherry wood cabinets that he installed two summers ago. That was when you both thought he might be getting better: the night terrors were less and less frequent, the flashbacks far and few between, he was less tense, less irritable. Seeking you constantly for soft touches and kisses, any kind of affection he could pull from you he'd take willingly. Two years ago was your two year anniversary -- when he finally told you the real story. Why he had all those scars, why he can't sleep, why he wakes up in a cold sweat crying. Why you'd never been able to figure out which health care company was providing him with so much medication and therapy when he was working part time at the hospital -- it's because it was the FBI.

It was two years ago where they took you to an underground office where they told you everything. Steve sat next to you, gripping your hand so tightly you thought it might break. They reassured over and over that nothing was coming back, that everything was over, but that Steve and his friends will likely never recover emotionally and mentally from what they endured. Four years into things now, you were both his fiance and his nurse. You checked in monthly with his caseworking team, but in these last few months, they've had nothing but shaky reports. You wondered if maybe his mind just isn't as sharp as it used to be -- you both just entered your thirties, maybe things get knocked loose quicker when you've been to hell and back. "Here, honey," you say softly, putting his pill case on the table. He looks at them and sighs, amber eyes lingering on the 'Saturday' section of the pill box. "Let me get you some wa--" "You don't need to give me my pills every day," he says -- it's soft and sharp, "I know I have to take them. I've been takin' them for ten years."

You offer him a tight smile, "I know, Stevie..." You trail off. 'It's important that he feels in control of the situation, a lot of his role when he was in this situation was to protect others. Try not to baby him about it, he might be fragile, but he doesn't like to feel like he is.'

"It's just...I don't want a repeat of last year," you quietly remind him. He had gotten too sure of himself when he started to feel better -- missing days, stopping altogether, off and on.

He reaches for the pill case and pops open the Saturday square, tossing the main five pills into his palm and then into his mouth. Pain, anti-depressant, anti-anxiety, migraine, blood thinner. The heavy stuff sat in the cabinet above the fridge: Quaaludes, Oxycontin, Sumatriptan, Clozapine -- among others. Every day was a reminder to him that he didn't come out of this a stronger person. His dad let him know that at every visit, treating him like he had a son made of glass. "Don't," he says after he swallows, "Don't start with me."

Your eyes narrow in on the finger he puts up in warning and travels down to his big hand, a vein popping in his forearm and under the band of his watch. His bicep flexes against his polo, you follow it across the expanse of his chest and down the other arm, landing back on the pill case.

You knew last night what kind of day it would be this morning. Desperate reaches for you while he woke up from another nightmare, his damp chest up against yours while he hid his face in your neck. He hugs you so tightly to him so he doesn't float away, and you match his strength as best you can until he falls back asleep. Sometimes it takes hours of stroking his hair and soothing him before he feels safe enough to even close his eyes. In the years you've been together, he's been more and more embarrassed over these needier nights. 'It's just, baby -- I'm a man. I have to get over all this shit.'

"I'm not starting anyth--" "You are," he warns, eyes narrowing. He clenches his jaw, "Don't."

"M'sorry," you breath out. You take the pill case when he sets it back down and bring it back upstairs to the main bathroom. You refill the case before placing it back in the medicine cabinet with a sigh. When it closes you look at yourself in the mirror, no longer the fresh 26 year old he met at the hospital admin desk when he started his part time job as an assistant in the children's psych floor. Gaining hours towards getting his pediatric therapist licensure to help kids who were like him and his friends -- well, sort of. To some extent. You smooth over your button down dress, his favorite one in your closet -- navy blue with beige flowers littering the fabric. It flounces over you in dips and swoops, falling just under your knee. Another sigh and you grab your purse from the bedroom and slip on your sandals, clip clopping down the stairs where you hear him grab the keys. Another Saturday morning where the group gets together and just hangs out, even though Steve sees Eddie, Rob, and Dustin pretty often throughout the week. They've been doing it for years now, but the outside buzzed with the promise of summer, Memorial Day weekend making everyone feel more at ease. Everyone except Steve.

He slams the car door when he gets in the drivers seat, making you jump in the leather of his Lexus. He runs his hands over his jean clad thighs, having grown in size over the last six years with age and trips to the gym. 'I just wanna be in like, peak physical condition if anything tries to come back. I wanna be more ready than when I was a kid, y'know?' And while the muscle was certainly titilating, it made for a very wary you when things went left. "Don't be like that, Stevie," you say softly, your voice calm and gentle like it is with patients on the floor, "I promise I wasn't trying to get on your case. Do you -- I don't know, do you wanna just stay home?" "No," he snaps, looking ahead toward the road as he starts the car, "I didn't pack a cooler full of all the shit you made for this cook-out just the stay home." "Can you relax?" you ask a little harsher than you planned, "Are you even good to drive?" "I'm good. To drive," he says through gritted teeth, pulling down the street. "Are you sure? 'Cause -- Honey you -- you didn't sleep so good last night and I --" He hits the breaks hard, stopping short at a stop light turning to look at you, tilting his head a bit to glare at you down the slope of his straight nose.

"Drop it," he says, the tenseness in his voice sends a chill up your spine. "Stevie I'm not trying t --" "Drop. It." he warns again, "Don't make me raise my voice at you." "Don't talk to me like that," you say sharply while he pulls the car forward when the light turns green. "Then don't talk to me like I'm a fucking child," he snaps back. "Well maybe if you didn't have an attitude with me like one I wouldn't have to," you cross your arms over your seat belt and huff. He shakes his head slowly, tongue tight between his teeth. He thought he knew better than to fall in love with someone who had a tongue as sharp as his. "You're askin' for an argument when you say shit like that to me," he says lowly, the Lexus crunching over helicopter seeds while he navigates through the neighborhood. You see his shoulders rise and fall while he attempts to steady himself -- fuse lit and ready to blow. "I'm sorry," you follow up, a deep breath filling your chest. You uncross your arms to lean your elbow on the edge of the window, resting your cheek in your hand, "I didn't mean that." "You did," he responds, tight and frustrated, quiet. He hastily reaches into his back pocket with one hand, eyes still on the road. Steve pops a cigarette between his full lips and you sigh at the sound of the lighter flicking. “What’s wrong now, hm?” he asks while the cigarette dangles from the corner of his mouth, “What’s your problem?” “Nothing,” you say – it’s something. He takes a drag and blows the smoke out the open window, “It’s just that you bought that pack yesterday and it’s already half way gone. You always chain smoke when you –” “Give me a fucking break,” he snaps, voice raising with each word, “God, can you let me have fuckin’ anything?” “No Steve, I guess not. God forbid I look out for your heal–” you start sarcastically. “Look out for yourself, baby,” he says sharply into the rearview so you can see his glare, “I’m doin’ just fine without you on my back.” You bicker the rest of the way to Ed and Nancy’s house, he only raises his voice one more time. 

Eddie and Nancy's wedding was one for the ages, something about the mixture of straight laced and all over the place that made sense when they tied the knot. The pair, you were told, seemed unlikely until Eddie was in recovery after being removed from the Upside Down. He was down there for six months, tested on for another six. The Party and the older kids would visit him every day, keeping him updated and fed and hydrated. They'd cheer him on when he made advances in his mobility -- but for the most part he just needed rest. Nancy was working a lot, throwing herself into journalism like she always wanted, so she'd come to the hospital late. She wasn't really one for small talk so instead, she'd just read. She'd read aloud while he was asleep, her voice slow and calm -- stoic. Keeping him lulled like still water, she didn't even know if he knew she was there. One night, she picked up where she left off on the first installment of Lord of the Rings, continuing in her soft stoic voice. She watched him lay there with his eyes closed, breath steady, the beeps of the hospital machines in quiet rhythm with him. She at frist felt silly before she started, but maybe in his dreams he could hear her, and maybe just maybe if she does something fun, he won't have nightmares tonight. So she tries it...she puts on a silly voice for Samwise, and she continues with her silly voices. Gruff and manly for Aragorn, gleeful for Sam, some weird form of Scottish for Gimli. She bites her lip, smiling as she tries each one, shaking her curly head at her ridiculousness and stops. Then she hears it...the low rumbling giggle from Eddie in his hospital bed. "Keep going, it's funny..." he said with a grin, eyes still closed. "You can hear me?" she asked, trying to stifle her giggle. "I can hear you every night," he said, eyes peering open slightly, "It's the best." "Do you want me to keep reading?" she asked with a blush. He nods, a soft grin pulling up on his lips while he eyes closes again, "Only if you do the voices."

When you park in the driveway it's clear that the rest of the group arrived before you, their cars already Tetris'd into their places. Steve lugs the cooler out of the back seat with a grunt, hoisting it to rest on his broad shoulder. You roll your eyes at his machismo, like someone is watching him at all times and he has something to prove. You both walk to the back, the sounds of music and conversation and laughter bubbling louder and louder as you get to the gate of the yard.

A symphony of 'Heeeyyy!' and 'There he is!' and 'Finally!' come from the group as he opens the gate and you follow in toe. Eddie comes over quickly to help with the cooler, his hair still as long as it was when he was 20 – the only real updates being his five o’clock shadow and the ring in his nose. A few more weary tired lines by his eyes. His home made Iron Maiden muscle tee had a small sweat mark by the neckline – they must’ve been out here getting ready all morning. “Hey man,” he grins when the cooler gets set down, pulling Steve in for a tight hug. “Hey,” Steve smiles, patting his back hard, savoring the hold. “You alright?” Eddie asks when he lets go, putting a hand to his face, “You feeling okay?” Steve smiles tightly and nods but Eddie only half buys it, returning his look before turning to you. He comes forward, kissing both your cheeks with his full lips, scruff scratching at your skin, “Hi, sweetheart.” “Hi Ed,” you grin, watching everyone else come up to say their hellos. “Where’s Nance?” Steve asks, but his question is answered when she waddles out of the sliding door of the kitchen with a pitcher of lemonade. From the back, you’d have no idea she was seven months pregnant, but from the side – let’s just say, it was gonna be a real big boy. “Honey, what did I say?” Eddie calls out, walking over to her and taking the pitcher. “It’s not even heavy,” she chides back with an exasperated eye roll. You giggle at their bickering, listening to their sweet back and forth with a gentle ache in your chest. You wonder if Steve will be the same way when you’re pregnant. You wonder if the back and forths will sound so sweet, so innocent, so soft. Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the cooler opening, turning to look and grab what you can to put in the fridge inside. Steve takes the meat out to put by the grill and a few appetizers that you put together last nice. You take the icebox cake and chocolate covered strawberries, hurrying with them through the sliding door into the kitchen. “I know, mommy just thinks she can do it all,” Eddie coos, resting his hands on Nancy’s stomach while she slices cheeseburger toppings on the counter, “She just won’t rest, are you gonna be like that too? You gonna run me ragged? You gonna be just like mommy?” Nancy laughs and it’s half airy, half from deep in her belly, “Look, it’s just better if I’m active so that I’m not surprised by it when he’s born.” “I know,” he says, kissing her cheek, “I know. You still love me, Wheeler?” “Love you always,” she grins, blushing when she sees you come in with desserts, “Oh! Oh my goodness, let me help you!” “I got it!” you say, “Just hope there’s room in the fridge!” When everything’s loaded up you give each other a hug, watching as Eddie and Steve have a mildly stern conversation about who is grilling what. ‘It’s my grill.’  ‘And? It’s my meat.’ 

“Do you think they should just kiss?” you ask while you watch them. “Honestly, I feel like they need to at this point," she laughs, "Go on outside, I’ll be out in a few,” Nancy encourages and you make your way back out into the very early summer heat – mugginess starting to soak the air around you. Before you know it, you’re already being pulled over to the picnic table to watch a game of Magic the Gathering between Lucas, Max, Dustin, Mike, and Will. El doesn’t come back to Hawkins very much,so you’ve been told – she’s the only person from the group you haven’t met. “So is this like D&D?” you ask, resting your cheek against your palm while you lean on the table. “Yes and no,” Max explains, looking at her options, “It’s like…” “Like poker but D&D,” Dustin says, making Mike, Will, and Lucas snort. “I think that’s the easiest way to explain it to you,” Mike says. “I trust that,” you laugh with them. You’ve been consistently hopeless with trying to learn the mechanics of Dungeons and Dragons but still enjoy watching, loving it more when Steve decides to join a campaign. He lets loose in ways you’ve never seen when he does, smiling and laughing, free like a child in the summertime. The sun beating on your back suddenly disappears when you hear Steve come up behind you with a hand on your shoulder, “Can I have my glasses, honey?” “They’re in the glove box,” you say, turning around, “Why do you need them?” “Oh, is Erica making you read her thesis outline?” Lucas asks, “Just tell her to buzz off. She already passed it in.” “Sinclair – don’t be an asshole,” Steve gives him a look that can only be described as ‘bitchy’, “She wants some assurance. We need another psychologist in the family, and she’s obviously the only one smart enough to get it done.” “Rude,” Max deadpans, flicking her eyes up at him. “You’re rude, twerp,” he says back, he turns back to you after sucking his teeth, "My glasses?"

“I just said, in the glovebox,” you repeat, a little sharper than you meant to. He lets out a huff through his nose, looking at you like he can’t believe you’d get snippy with him before stomping off toward the gate of the yard. “Is he alright?” Dustin asks quietly, “I saw him on Thursday he just…I don’t know, he seems a little tense.” “He had a bad night,” you explain, toying at a splinter in the wood, “He’ll be okay.” The sun disappears again but not from the expanse of your fiance’s shoulders and chest, but from a thick cloud moving slowly across the sky. The relief from the heat is almost welcomed until you feel the humidity raise a bit in the air – a little too tight, a little too suffocating for your taste. 

The party is in full swing while Meredith Brooks’ ‘Bitch,’ blares from the boom box, Nancy and Max screaming the lyrics with abandon while the boys groan. You smile at how much fun they’re having, the afternoon going smoothly enough that you haven’t had time to notice how cloudy the sky had become. Your eyes linger on Steve, glasses on while looking at Erica’s thesis outline with her on the back porch. He had a pen in one hand and a cigarette in the other, the fifth one in the last hour and a half.  "You got something here," he says to her, tapping his pen while continues reading, "Your argument's really strong -- especially about the rates of homelessness, it's almost always trauma related." "Well -- I am me," she says. He raises his brows and nods in agreement. "Can't spell America without Erica," he teases. You watch him, how gentle he is and how he taps through outline, asking her questions about how she feels about the finished thesis, where she got it bound, if the articles he sent over were helpful. They speak in words you don't understand, but it's okay -- he looks calmer, brows softened while they talk, so encouraging. "I'm a bitch, I'm a lover, I'm a child, I'm a mother, I'm a sinner, I'm a saint, I do not feel ashamed --"

Eddie's rasp pierces the groups singing and conversation as he belts the lyrics next to his wife. Everyone looks up to watch him go, laughing as he does. "We should cover this," he grins, "Me and the guys, we gotta cover this at the next show." "So you can get boo'd off the stage?" Mike laughs. "So I can make sure your ass doesn't get in the bar?" he asks back. Mike scowls while Dustin laughs at him -- it's always smarter to not try it with Eddie, he'd always get you back ten fold. With a jolt, you feel something cold hit your hand, looking down to see a water drop splat against your skin. Then another, and another, and another. After the fourth or fifth, the rain starts to come down -- and then it starts to pour. "Alright!" Nancy calls, "Everyone grab something and head inside." The Party rises, wincing as the rain pellets down on them while everyone grabs a foil tray or covered Pyrex filled with food. You follow suit, hurrying inside with the undressed cheeseburgers and buns, laying them safe on the counter in the kitchen. Everyone else starts to file in, Steve and Eddie turning off the grill while the sky starts to darken significantly. The first rumble of thunder sends everyone's face to a flat line -- you wished Robin wasn't spending the weekend in New York City so that you'd have someone on the front lines with you and Nancy to keep everyone at ease. Nancy and Robin definitely had their moments but had a much tighter grasp on the world around them now.

A few flashes of lightening crack followed by deep rumbles of thunder. Boom, crack! Boom, crack, crack! You notice everyone resettle themselves around the kitchen table -- jittery, quiet. You sit down across from Steve while he looks down, following the woodgrain with his finger. You keep your gaze on his chest, watching for a tell -- he swallows the frustration he feels from having your eyes on him. "It's alright guys, just a storm," Nancy reminds everyone gently while she brings in the last of the food from outside. Eddie gets her seated before opening things back on the counter, the kitchen smelling like barbecue while he opens the foils. The conversations start around you again while you sit across from Steve, the tension sitting like a weighted stone in your chest. Another flash of lightning and that's when you notice it, the twitch of his hand. The thunder rumbles and he reaches up to rub his eyes with his thumb and forefinger under his glasses. Shit. "You okay, honey?" you ask him softly. He swallows, jaw clenching, "Mhm." "Okay," you nod, trying not to bring attention to it just yet, just incase it passes. The thunder booms again and he lets out a breath through his nose, he takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes more agressively. You tap your foot under the table and he can hear it, he can hear everything in the room -- the scrapes of foil on foil. The separate conversations. Eddie's laugh while he talks to Nancy. The clinks of silverware. Ice in cups. The drumming of fingers. Your tap. Tap. Tap. Tapping. Under the fucking table could you just stop tapping your fucking foot -- The next crack of lightening is so intense it shakes the house and everyone gets quiet. 'Just a storm', Nancy reminds, but her voice sounds far away. Thunder rumbles again in the distance and he swears when the lightening flashes through the windows it's red. He rubs his eyes again, a short burst of breath coming through his nose. 'Honey?' he hears you but its like he has cotton in his ears. The thunder rumbles again, the slick squelching of vines starts to creep into the sound of it. Another crack of lighting and the lights in the kitchen flicker. But when they turn back on Steve isn't with the group anymore. He's not even in the kitchen. He's back at the Creel House. 'Baby? Steve?' your voice is distant -- does Vecna have you? Did he find you? Is he taking you away from him? Steve whimpers, getting out of the chair, pulling at the roots of his light brown locks -- desperate to pull himself out of the memory, "Help, please..."

"I'm here, Steve," you say rounding the table while the rest of the group stands back, getting ready to help. Max grabs a boom box and Lucas runs to his car to grab his tapes with everyone's favorite songs on it -- just in case. Dustin approaches him slowly, hands out in front of him while Steve shrinks to the floor, back against the cabinets. "Steve, it's me, it's Dustin," he says calmly and slowly, "You're in Eddie's kitchen, Steve." But Steve only hears Dustin saying his name -- Dustin must be in trouble. "I'm coming," Steve says, eyes shut tight, falling further away. You watch as sweat grows on his hair line and neck, muttering a fuck under you breath. This was gonna be a bad one. "Honey, honey," you continue, kneeling down in front of him to ease his hands off of his hair, "You're okay, you're safe. I'm with you." 'Honey.' He hears your voice in the distance, searching for you in the blue black haze of the Upside Down, the thick particles of dust in his eyes. The slither of vines covers the walls and the floors while he ascends the stairs -- where are Nancy and Robin? Weren't they with him? "Nance?" You watch him call out for Nancy and she goes to get up but Eddie puts his hand delicately on her shoulder. He shakes his head no at her, "Just talk to him," he says to her. 'I'm here, Steve, it's okay!' 'It's okay!' But it's not Nancy's voice, it gets more an more deep, more gravelly, more like him. Steve flinches in front of you, soft 'no, no, no's slipping from his mouth. 'Stevie...' Where are you? Does he have you? 'S̷T̴E̶V̴I̷E̵.'

The sound of Vecna's voice booms in his ears, the thunder rumbling, the red lighting flashing to light up the house. You were never here -- Vecna tricked him. He breathes hard, looking around while the vines snake around, searching for him. "Okay, okay baby," you say hurriedly, watching him while he starts to hyperventilate. You raise your voice to get through to him, "Honey you gotta take some deep breaths for me, okay? Can you hear me?" Max and Lucas come back, smacking the tape into the radio and fastforwarding until Marc Cohn's Walking In Memphis crackles through the speakers. They both heave breaths while the song plays, leaning over the table to settle down from running. "You hear the song, honey?" you ask, "Can you hear it? Talk to me, Steve." You reach your hands up, sliding slowly up his chest to rest your hands by his jaw in a soothing touch. But for Steve in the Creel House, the vines have found him, slithering up his chest and around his neck, tighter and tighter against the wall. He tenses, big hands coming up and grabbing your wrists with a grip so tight you whimper. "No, shit, shit, shit! Fuck! STOP! NO! I CAN'T!" he panics, gasping for breath while his nails dig into your forearms and drag painfully downward why he tries to pull you away. "Ow, ow baby, hey, you're hurting me," you yelp out. He doesn't stop, eyes switching from tightly closed to open and unfocused while he reaches up to your biceps, clawing at them in defense. You reach out a final time. "Honey, honey, please, it's me," you say, tears balancing on your lower lashes while he rises, taking you with him. He handles you real rough, grabbing you by the shoulders and throwing you to the ground with a loud thud. And god does it hurt.

"HEY!" Eddie's voice booms out, gruff and loud like the rumbles of thunder outside. He gets behind Steve, pulling his arms close to his chest while Steve struggles against him. Erica and Mike hurry toward you to help you slowly up off the floor. You reel at first, wanting to run back to him. "Stay in front of her Wheeler," Ed warns, "You all stay right there." You stand behind Mike with Erica who takes your hand tightly in hers. You feel the pulse of pain in your arms when you look down -- gouges and deep scrapes, the blood shines in the line of the kitchen. You shake your head out of it and watch on as Eddie and Dustin do what they can to help -- the song continues to play in the background. "No, no," Steve whimpers, twisting his wrists in Eddie's grasp to break free, but in this state Eddie is stronger. He pulls him close, Steve back to his chest while they sink back down against the cabinets. "Shh," Eddie soothes, still holding him tight, "We got you, just listen -- you're in my kitchen. You hear the song playing?" Steve grunts, thrashing while Eddie hugs him tighter to him. "Steve, listen, listen to the song," Dustin says, "Focus on me and Eddie's voice, listen." Steve struggles, less intense than before, "Shh, shh, it's okay Harrington," Eddie soothes, rocking him slowly back and forth. "They need me," Steve cries weakly, breaths slowing while he pulls again at Eddie's hold, "Gotta save 'em..." "Steve," Dustin says again, getting closer. He rubs his shoulder slowly, pressing his thumb into the joint, "We're safe, all the kids are safe." "Safe..." he repeats back. Eddie sighs a little in apprehensive relief, letting go of one wrist to run a hand over his head, turning Steve's face into his chest and holding him close. "That's right, Steve," Eddie says softly, "Safe." 'Saw the ghost of Elvis, on Union Avenue, Followed him up to the Gates of Graceland And they watched him walk right through...' Steve can hear the lyrics, warbled and tinny in the Upside Down. 'Safe, safe, safe.' Echoing through the walls -- it gets dimmer. 'Now security they did not see him, They just hovered round his tomb...' Dimmer and dimmer. 'Almost over buddy, I can tell, we're right here. You feel Henderson?' A soft warm rub on his shoulder, the lyrics to the song, Eddie's voice. The sound of vines fade away, he hears the rain, it fades to black. "Walkin' in Memphis..." Steve whispers, half confused, while his eyes open and focus -- squinting in the light of the kitchen. Overwhelmed he looks around while the room tilts on it's axis. He grips Eddie's leg tightly to steady himself, he's breaths picking up again. "It's okay buddy, it's just us," Eddie says again, "You with me?" Steve nods, face cracking while he lets out a broken sob. You can only watch while Eddie flicks his eyes up at you in another warning to not come closer yet. Dustin let's go while Eddie starts to hoist him up, wrapping Steve's arm around his shoulder while he helps him to the guest room down the hall. "C'mon big boy," he says gently, "Let's get you some rest."

Things feel a little quiet after Eddie comes back from the guest room, he's tense -- no longer having fun the way he was before. His eyes are dark while he heads outside into the rain to have a cigarette. Lucas turns off the stereo and The Party sits back down at the kitchen table for a moment to decompress. They silently take out of the Magic the Gathering cards and start to set up again, Erica joins them seamlessly. When things seems a semblance of stable, Nancy gets up and takes your hand and leads you to the bathroom, "Let's check you out, alright?"

You sit on the toilet seat cover while Nancy takes out a first aid kit from under the sink. You listen while she hums the climax of Whitney's 'I Have Nothing' quietly, searching the medicine cabinet for some Bactine for your cuts.

"Are you okay?" she asks, taking both of your hands to outstretch your arms, she turns them to see the damage -- she tries to hide her face of disappointment but it's clear.

"I'll be fine," you say softly while she wipes down the gouges and scrapes, "I can take care of it Nance."

"No, you just -- just let me," she says softly. The Bactine stings -- so does the way she looks at you -- pitifully. You hear Eddie's boots clomp down the hallway before he shows up at the door frame of the bathroom.

"You okay, sweetheart?" he asks -- you wish people would stop asking. They only ask when they see him lose control. You do this all the time, you take care of him all the time.

"I'm okay," you repeat, "A little banged up, but y'know. It's okay."

"Does he do that alot?" Eddie asks, his jaw clenching, "Does he hurt you a lot?"

"This is one of maybe...I don't know -- four times he's gotten physical with me during an episode," you explain, "And you all know about them."

"Does he hurt you when he's here?" Eddie asks, tapping at his temple.

"No, Ed, don't be ridiculous," you sigh, exasperated that he'd even ask.

"Steve's not like that, Eddie," Nancy says, "We've been over this." "Well, here's the thing Nance," he starts, tense, "We're ten years out of this shit and no matter how bad my shit got I've never put a hand on you like that. Ever." "Eddie --" "No, no, listen," he says, "I don't like that, and I especially don't like that happening in my house in front of my pregnant wife." "And what would you like me to do about it, Ed?" you snap, "I can't -- fuck -- I can't fucking fix him for you." "I'm not asking you to fix him," he says back, a pain deep in his chest coming through with his voice, "I'm asking you to be sure that you still want to be a part of this -- your wedding's what -- October? You really wanna be worrying about this?" "For better or for worse, right?" you ask back, choking on the lump in your throat, "That's the promise." Eddie tucks his lips in, his own eyes getting teary while he scans the gouges that Nancy carefully puts bandaids over. "Ice your hip and shoulder for the first couple days," he mutters, biting the edge of his them, "After a fall like that. Then heat." You nod, quietly murmuring a thank you. "S'what my mom used to do," he says under his breath. Eddie scans you slowly one more time, swallowing hard before pushing off the door frame and walking back down the hall. You hear their bedroom door click closed in the distance. "You know how he gets," Nancy says, "Stuff like that y'know -- that's hard for him." "I know." She takes a washcloth, running it under cold water before squeezing it out. Droplets fall on the fabric of her light purple maternity shirt, leaving dark people marks on the top of her belly. She hands it to you. "Here, for his head," she says softly, "In case he's not all the way back yet."

You creep slowly into the guest room, seeing him laying on his stomach with half his face buried in the pillow. His sculpted arms tucked under it to give him something to hold. "Baby?" you ask quietly, "You awake?" He nods with his eyes closed and you look him over -- big hulking man who needs to be held. He hates it but you can't help but love him for knowing he needs it. You put the wet face cloth on the side table, sliding down next to him while he moves over to his side. In one swift motion you've replaced the pillow -- arms wrapping tight around your waist and up your back, one hand molding over your shoulder. He hides his face in your neck and you can feel his tears on his lashes and cheeks. His shoulders shake while he cries for a while, cold sweat damp on his shirt and the back of his neck. You never check how long he cries for – as long as he does. “I’m here,” you say softly, nails grazing his scalp in a steady swipe, “I’m right here.” You adjust a bit in his hold and you feel his grip tighten slightly, a soft whine of desperation leaking from his throat. “Don’t go, please,” he begs softly. “M’not going anywhere big guy,” you soothe, “This wedding’s already put us ten grand in the hole. Where would I even go, now?” You hear a soft ‘tsss’ come out of him, a tug of a smile against the skin of your neck where he hides. 

“Oh, is that funny?” you joke, still coasting your fingers through his hair. He groans, letting his arms let go of you so he can sit up, you can see the tension in his body still. Steve looks down at you with tear stained cheeks and tired eyes, beckoning you forward with his fingers. You sit up for your thank you kiss, his warm palm cupping your cheek while he holds you gently in place. He kisses once slowly, then twice, three times – holding the last so you know he means it. When you break away he rests his forehead against yours, offering a few shallow breaths. You stand up off the bed while he sits off the edge of it, standing between his thighs. 

"Did I hurt you?" he asks softly. He asks after every episode ever since he did hurt you back when you first started dating. A swift smack to the arm that stung for a solid twenty minutes afterward with the amount of power he put into it. It welted. He cried for hours. He wrote you love letters every day for a week. 

You nod, showing him the scratches and bandages on your arms, "I think you thought I was a vine or something. You threw me. Like, to the ground. It was pretty hard."

His lower lip quivers, "No, no, no." “No, Steve,” you assure, trying to calm him, “It’s okay, you didn’t know. It’s alright, I’m alright. It was an accident.” 

His face contorts while the tears start again, his big hands reach out to your waist, pulling you close to him, "It's not okay, it's not alright."

His voice raises an octave while he cries, "I'm sorry, baby."

"It's okay, Stevie, shh," you whisper to him, he pulls you in tighter, body shaking while pressing his nose against your cheek.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he cries, sniffling, "You know I didn't mean it."

"I know you didn't," you say back, your own cry getting caught in your throat. He sniffles again, leaning back to face you, both of his hands cupping your cheeks, his thumbs rubbing the apples.

"I love you," he says with a depth and intensity that makes the lump in your throat give way. You cry with him and it breaks his heart, "I love you so much honey, you know I’d never…"

You nod, trying to calm your cry the way he was able to calm his -- so used to swallowing it up even though you'd beg him not to.

"I – shit – I have to tell you something," he says softly, hands sliding from your cheeks back down to your waist and then your hips. He looks down at the small triangle of mattress between you and the apex of his thighs.

"What's up, Steve?" you ask, running your hands through his hair again soothingly, "What is it?"

He lifts his head up, eyes shutting at the comforting touch, but when he opens them he looks defeated -- guilty, "I haven't been taking my meds at night. I was -- was flushin’ them cause I just -- baby, I don't know. I can't keep depending on this shit."

"Steve."

"I know," he nods, "I know...That's why -- that's why my shit's getting worse."

"You're not just taking this stuff to take it," you say, cupping his cheeks, "It's to keep you here. It's to keep you with me."

"I know," he repeats, voice cracking again, "I'll call my shrink tomorrow I promise. I'll get back on track. Fuck -- I'm sorry -- and I'm -- I'm sorry I was so mean to you this morning."

"It's okay," you nod, pressing a kiss to his forehead. You drop your hands and rub his shoulder, "I think we should go home, alright? We can get on the couch for the night and just rest."

"Okay," he says quietly, nodding. He slowly gets up off the bed, a little dizzy, using you for support. You both slowly walk out of the bedroom, Nancy peeking around the end of the hall.

"Everything good?" she asks.

You smile at her, "Yeah, I think we're gonna head home."

She smiles tightly, heading into the kitchen where the rest of the group still sits, eating and talking. Their heads turn when you both come into view -- soft eyes and smiles.

"I'm okay, guys," Steve nods, barely able to meet their gazes, "It's fine."

Nancy approaches you with a few tupperwares filled with food and dessert, "We'll get the cooler back to you on Tuesday."

"Don't worry about it," you smile, gathering the tupperware in your arms. You watch as the group gets up one by one to give Steve a hug goodbye. Their movements are slow and controlled, warning touches on his shoulders beforehand to remind him ‘It’s just me, it’s just my arms, I’m hugging you’. Soft mumbled words of support, nothing too loud – don’t startle each other. Wraiths of the friendship they all shared earlier. Rehearsed reactions to all of their sensitive needs – if you’ve seen one episode, you’ve seen all of theirs. And you had, once or twice. “I’ll get a copy bound for you,” Erica says while she hugs him. “You make me so proud, Sinclair,” he smiles. Nancy walks you both to the door and you turn, “How’s Ed?” “He’ll call later,” she nods, a look behind her eyes that matches yours. You hug goodbye, share quick reminders about food for the baby shower and a few crafty decoration plans before heading to the car with a very tired Steve. The rain patters on the hood of the Lexus while you both sit in the leather interior, this time with you in the driver's seat. He rubs at his temples with his eyes closed while you rifle through your purse for a sandwich baggie of emergency migraine medicine. “Here,” you say, handing him the pill, “Before it starts to get bad.” “Hmm,” he grumbles in agreement, popping it in his dry mouth to suck it down.  “We’ll be home soon, okay?” you say, hand coming down on his thigh reassuringly, “Just close your eyes for now.” 

He takes the tupperwares when you get out of the car, fishing his keys out of his back pocket while he does. His strides are long while you hurry up behind him, following him into the house only to bump into his back while he’s stopped by the thermostat to turn on the air. “Sorry,” you say softly. “S’okay,” he replies back, barely above a whisper. He puts the food in the fridge while you head upstairs to start a shower, a ritual you’ve both come to learn well after days or nights like these. You take out the good soap, the shower oil, all the aroma therapy you can to get him to ease up. Anyone else watching you get things ready would assume it was about to be a very sexy time for you. On the same coin, these showers are probably the most intimate moments you have with each other. He comes in as the room starts to steam and you help him ease off his polo, you start on the buttons of your dress while he takes off his jeans and socks. He helps with your bra, both of you shedding your underwear at the same time before you step in. Steve soothes almost instantly, his muscles relaxing under the hot stream, sighing further while he gets soaped up. You don’t have to be in there with him, but you do. He needs you so close so he doesn’t float away. His favorite part comes near the end, sitting in the flow of the shower together while you wash his hair. His eyes flutter closed while your nails scratch and massage him – he swears his hair is even thicker than it was before with all the blood flow you encourage. You wash his hair twice, then deep condition, holding him to your chest while you wait the five minutes it takes to settle in. He leaves soft kisses on your collar bone, on all the marks he left on you in Nance and Eddie's kitchen. He holds your hand, so you can’t float away. You both end up on the couch afterward, the leather groaning beneath you both while you lay across the deep seat cushions, you lay on your back, he lays on his side against you. The heat of his bare chest warms you through your oversized sleep shirt. His soft sweat pants tangle up with your bare legs. You let whatever’s on TV play – reruns you guess, you’re thinking about too many other things. “How’s your head, baby?” you ask while his eyes shut, leaning on your shoulder. “S’fine, better,” he says, he lifts your hand and kisses your fingers before placing both his and your hand on your chest over your heart. The ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dum lulling him to sleep. You half watch TV for however long until your own eyelids get heavy. You click off the TV and opt to turn the stereo on low, just so he doesn’t get lost while he sleeps.

You wake up to oldies, music your parents would listen to on records in the living room growing up – songs that came out a few years before you were born. Oldies. It's dark outside but you can still hear the rain. Steve’s already awake, just watching you while his hand smooths back and forth over your sternum. “You snored,” he says. “Good,” you reply quietly. You both snort out breathy laughs, feeling the warmth of his lips as they smoosh against your cheek. “How you feeling?” he asks, hand coming up to rest on your cheek, sliding down the side of your neck. “A little banged up,” you say, “Might bruise.” “M’sorry,” he says again, a tinge of guilty pink tinging his ears. “It’s okay,” you repeat for what feels like the thousandth time in the past six hours. “You looked really pretty today,” Steve says gently, almost sheepish, “I should’ve told you.” “You looked really handsome,” you say back, “But you were kind of being an asshole so I didn’t want to tell you.” “You should’ve told me, it probably would’ve cured my PTSD,” he says seriously but sarcastically, “Could’ve saved the entire afternoon if you just said how good I looked. Prob’ly wouldn’t have had an episode.” “You’re such an ass,” you laugh, smiling. He leans in to kiss you and it’s the kind that makes you too weak to stand. That kiss got him a second date, it proved that they said about old King Steve in highschool. On the stereo, Sherry Baby bleeds into Unchained Melody.

His hand reaches up under your neck to tilt you up toward him, tasting your tongue with his, guiding you with his kiss, “Angel…” he murmurs. He breathes through his nose while he keeps his lips pressed to yours, desperate to stay here in this moment, attached to you. “Steve,” you say softly, breaking away, “Stevie…” “Please,” he whispers, nuzzling your nose slowly, “Please.” “Lemme take care of you.” “I…” your thoughts trail off while he kisses your neck, sucking and nibbling gently at the spot just by the hinge of your jaw. He waits for your soft sigh, the tilt of your hips towards him – your allowance. He grins when he hears the air pass your lips, the realignment of your spine beneath him while he settles between your squishy thighs. His hands travel south, pushing up the hem of your big t-shirt to your waist, holding you there for a moment while his kiss takes over your mouth again. He tugs your cotton panties down, breaking the kiss while he sits up on the couch to slide them off your ankles. Steve looks down at you with an expression that makes your breath catch in your chest, serious – with supple lips, needy eyes. He leads himself back down again, big hands sliding down the sides of your thighs over your hips to your waist again. Instinctively, your legs spring up to wrap around him while his hips align with yours, feeling his strained cock in his sweats against you. “Jesus…” he whispers again, eyes fluttering closed. He buries his face in your neck while you rock slowly against him, the pressure and friction against the underside of his erection sending low volts through his body. “Mm-mm,” he grunts, shaking his head ‘no’ while mumbling, “It’s supposed to be about you.” “Well stop dangling it in front of me then,” you giggle quietly, he giggles too. The smile sends you reeling, his pretty teeth, the way his nose scrunches. He leans forward again to kiss, he just can’t stop kissing, can’t stop tasting your lips, feeling you against him. Steve’s hand reaches down to pull himself out of his sweats, pushing the waistband to the tops of his thighs while he uses the other to push one thigh out off the couch. “You ready f’me?” he asks huskily, tip dragging slowly from the pool of slick at your opening up in between your folds. He lets his thumb run in slow circles over your clit while he waits for your answer, your slow nod while you lean your head back on the arm rest gives him the okay. He eases himself in slow, the tip pushing past your opening with some resistance. “Open up a lil’, honey,” he mumbles quietly while he guides the tip in again, “Open up for me.”

Your little gasps float out of you and into the fuzzy part of his brain, gliding down his spine. You angle your hips upward, one thigh up against the couch cushions and the other dangling over the edge, spread as wide as you can. He holds himself above you with one arm, the other aiding in pushing himself further in, the tip finally breaching your core. He keeps guiding, slow back and forths while you ease open for him – taking him in, inch by inch. “Oh yes, mhm,” he groans to himself softly, “Thass–hmm-that’s it, angel.” He let’s go when he’s three fourths in, crowding over you, forearms on each side of your head while he strokes slowly to start – getting you used to him, accommodating his size. “That’s good?” he breathes. “Ye-yeah,” you breathe back to him. His mouth latches to yours again, feeling him guide your hands up beside your head, lacing fingers while he presses you deeper into the couch cushions. He keeps his strokes slow and deliberate, feeling every ridge of you inside, how you suck him in and hug him tight in place – but how he feels isn’t nearly as important. It’s the way your brows contort, the way you bite your lip, your whines into his mouth while he kisses you. Each slow thrust makes you coat him in a new flow of slickness. “C’mere,” he says into your jawline, letting go of one hand to sneak behind you at the waist, pulling you flush to him. The new angle makes you let out a whine while he hits a spot deep inside you, he grunts at the reaction, the feeling of you taking him in. His pace picks up the smallest tick, face centimeters from yours – your noses brush, lips barely touching while his amber eyes keep steady on yours. You let out short huffs, little whimpers every time the head of his cock pushes deeper with every roll of your hips. “S’nice, hm?” he asks, brows slanting, softening. “Mhm,” you squeak back, “S-so good, honey.” Your legs pull in again, socked heels resting on the top of his butt while he sighs at the change in pressure. “Thassperfect, god,” he hisses out, head dropping down to your chest, pressing sloppy kisses above your breasts while he gathers himself. He groans into your neck while wet warmth tightens over him, soft velvet walls coaxing him closer and closer to the edge. 

Steve’s shoulders flex while he balances on his forearms above you again, your forgotten hand taken by his, fingers interlocked. His face inches from yours while he looks at you, the way your eyes flutter, the soft parting of your lips, the high pitched  ‘Uhn, uhn, uhn, uhn,’s coming out of them — you’re so beautiful.

“So pretty,” he says to you, huffing a breath into a smile, “So pretty, baby.” 

You kiss him a thank you. You see him swallow when he breaks away, his eyes getting glassy. 

“S’gonna be okay,” he assures, nodding down at you, nose to nose, “We’re gonna be okay.” Slow thrusts  between statements. 

“Gonna get married,” he says, a groan flowing right down into your mouth while he kisses you, “Gonna be just like Ed and Nance, right?” 

You nod while his thrusts get more passionate, deeper.

“Yeah? That’s nice?” he asks, “Marry you? Take you just like this after the wedding?” 

“Yeah,” you gasp back, “Yes, Stevie.” 

“Give you a baby?” he asks in a low whisper into your skin, lips pressing against your cheek, his strong nose dragging against your cheek bone, “Give you so many babies. You want that?” 

“I want that,” you nod, face pinching while you feel yourself building up and up in a slow churn. 

“You want that?” he asks again, coming back to hover over you — tears in his eyes, “You want that with me?” 

You nod to each other while he embraces you in an old movie kiss, wrapping himself around you, pressing him to his chest while his thrusts get purposeful, controlled. 

“I love you,” he pants into your ear, “I’m yours, m’all yours.”

“I love you, too,” you rasp back, free’d fingers interlocking in his hair. He gets leverage on his knees, the leather of the couch squeaking under him while he repositions. Soft smacks of skin between you echo in the living room against the backdrop of the low stereo.   “Oh my god, Steve,” you moan out, “You’re – oh god you’re so deep.” “So deep, angel, Christ–” he huffs, trying to make a mental note of this position so he can remember it for October – really make it stick. His thought process stifled when your nails drag down his back, making his passionate thrusts quicken – a signature cocky smirk flick across his lips. “Mmm, that feels good honey?” he asks – he knows the answer. Your mouth hangs open in a silent scream, tears glazing over your eyes while he feels you pulse over him. Thank god the couch was leather. Watching you bathe in the afterglow of your orgasm he works you toward the second with ease, chasing his pleasure with each soaking thrust into you – so nice like this, so pliant – his little ragdoll. When he cums it’s deliberate, spilling inside you with your eyes on each other. You give one another breathless kisses, bodies interlocked, sticking to the couch in new found exhaustion. The phone rings. Neither of you get up to answer it. ‘BEEP. You’ve reached the Harrington residence – Did you forget my last name isn’t Harr– If you’re calling before October 1997 then it’s not just the Harrington residence yet but – whatever you know what I mean. Leave a message, we might call ya back.’

“Hey Harrington it’s Munson, um, just making sure you’re okay, man. Sorry I disappeared for a little bit there. Love you, call me back when you can. Bye.” 

thanks for reading. <3

[blueparadis]

Hi! I love your writing :)

If you have the time/are interested can yo make TR Mikey x reader smut with Mikey realizing reader is a virgin right before their first time? Either he believed gossips or the reader teases a lot or something. Whatever you cook up if you decide to do this, I am sure I will love it :)

Have a nice day

—

Thank you >:)) okay. this was very precise but idk why it confused me. I did my best tho. I love him sm. I'm always excited to write on him >^< hope you love it too <33

STAY WITH ME ; MANJIRO SANO !

୨ content & tags ୧ ~ f!reader, mafia au, mention of brothels, arrange marriage, virginity k!nk, ( domestic ) fluff, f1nger1ng, orgasm control, kisses and soft love making, very light corruption k!nk, teasing, he is a big softie here. word count — 2kish + blog navigation.

“You know about this ?”, Draken throws the newspaper in front of Manjiro who is deeply staring at his knuckles and his rings, sitting on a bar stool holding a drink with his non-dominant hand.

“They made it public. Were you aware of this? . . . ”Draken continues in a harsh tone with his eyebrows furrowing further as Manjiro keeps him playing with a ring, juggling it in between his fingers. “Mi-key, you know what this means right? The wedding is gonna happen in a week or . . .”

“Shin told me that we're going to visit them. Tomorrow. So, I figured . . .”

“You figured what? Y/N is practically in the front page with massive headlines and. . . ” Manjiro grabs the news paper instantly looking at the photo of her. She is walking out of a shop in a one-piece dress that reveals much of her body curves, beautifully, he must add. And except the chauffeur, there is no sign of a bodyguard. How dare he! That scoundrel.

Moreover, it's been almost a year since he saw her or it would be more accurate to say that he was forbidden to see her, meet her, talk to her. The only thread of communication he had with her was occasional gifts, though it was more of a bridging alliance with her father than wooing her.

“We’re leaving.”He rushes out of their private bar,“Now. And Inform Haruchiyo. He is coming with us.”

“What? ”, Draken gasped. “But Shinichiro -san ”

“Didn't you want me to take action? This is me taking action . . . for her. ”

“Ahhh, fuck it.”

Manjiro wasn't angry. He was furious, furious that his fiancee is roaming around the town without any sort of protection. He has been humbling himself since the day this bond was sealed. He had stopped going to whore house, bringing girls in his house or even going to a bar with Izana. The day this marriage was confirmed, he knew he had to cut off all these (bad) habits once she is under same room with him.

She was sent to study abroad, right after the meeting. Manjiro would have easily continued his lavish acts but he was told to behave, told to be prepared for her. And now that she is back, Manjiro was supposed to court her, take care of her, and get rid of the childish awkwardness of a newly married couple. Who knows what happened abroad? She might have been deflowered or . . .

“Woah. What a good day it is . . .”, Y/N’s father rose up folding the newspaper and keeping it on the tea table as he saw three men approaching in his way. Manjiro Sano, Ken Ryuguji and Sanzu Haruchiyo. Of course, they had no trouble with the security.

Without greeting Manjiro walked in to the house, he was determined to meet her. Draken stopped y/n's father with his hand while his lips started to work. “Nah... Shiba-san .... When did y/n got back? We came here immediately as soon as we saw her... in the headlines” Haruchiyo stood beside the man with his eyes on the ground, hands tucked behind at the valley of his waist.

Manjiro smiled to himself as he heard Draken making the small talk. Ah! Geez. He never changes. His eyes scanned the hall. Not a soul was there, not even a servant. He heard quick footsteps cascading down the stairs, his heartbeats escalated, breathing became faster, hands crawling inside the pocket of his slacks. . .“Ahrey. . . Isn't it yuzuha? ”

She cocked her head to a side exclaiming in a bored tone. “Hakkai and Taiju are busy at the restaurant. I'm sure you know why”

“I’m not here for them” Yuzuha couldn't help but smile at his confession.

“She is in her room. Up-stairs. Right - wing. Last room with balcony.” Manjiro was already walking as he bowed his head to give his utmost thanks to her.

He stood in front of the door for a minute thinking now what? He hasn't prepared shit to say and he certainly doesn't want to scare her. Last meeting was . . . he was quite hard on her. He knocked, three times and waited. Within five seconds he saw y/n opening the door with so much zeal in her eyes.

“You should always ask. . . Who is it? Before opening the door.”, Manjiro quipped walking into the room and closing the door behind, without turning so as to keep his eyes on her.

“Are you not surprised to see me? ”

“Yuzuu texted.”, that girl always had a knack for enacting tit-for-tat whenever there was an opening.

“So, within a week. . . You'll have to stay. . . ”

“Stay with you, share bed with you, obey you. . . Yeah, yeah I know” God! What did they do to her? Last time when Manjiro saw her she had no fire in her eyes, no fight in her soul. What exactly happened at abroad?

“I wasn't going to say that but i guess that sums up. Here”, he kept a strip of medicines. “You will have these. I want you to be prepared for our wedding night. Start from today.” Part of her knew what those pills did, while part of her wanted to ask, to hear through his voice. How fucking rude! No gifts, no talk straight to sex.

The wedding day was lustrous and full of happiness. Just for a day, everyone in the Shiba family set aside there differences to make you smile. Yuzuha complained a little about how she is gonna be lonely without her sister and claimed she is gonna visit her soon but Manjiro brushed it off.

“You’re drinking too much. . . Is the crowd making you nervous? Do you want to go inside? Is the food too spicy? ”

Manjiro was kind even for a man who belonged to the obsidian world of blood-bath. His attention was focused on her, her tone of talking, body language. He cannot wait to just have her, share bed with her and fuck her in all positions known to a man, fuck her till all she remembers is his name, till she reeks of him, thinks of him and only him.

He entered the room an hour later than her. By the time she already had changed clothes and was under the covers laying down and thinking about the marriage, this marriage that was mere an alliance and she was just a peace offering.

“Y/N, you still awake?”Manjiro asked coming out of the bathroom and standing near the edge of the bed. The light of night lamp was perfectly falling on her face as she turned around to face him. Manjiro’s heart dropped at the pit of his stomach, cock twitched as her body peeked from under the covers.

“Are you tired?”, he asked leaning over her as he tucked the loose hair strands behind her ear. She nodded and sat upright. He was now sharing the same cover as her, cock growing, eyes glinting in lust and heart pounding amongst his rib cage. He cupped her face so as she would meet his eyes but she jerked his hands off instantaneously, jumping out of the bed and making some distance between them.

“Don’t”

“Why? Did i do something wrong? Something that hurt you? ”

“No but . . .” “I didn't take pills.”

Manjiro got out of bed and strolled towards her. She backed away. He could see her shaky hands, he swallowed and looked away. “Do i scare you, Y/N?”

“No.” There was silence for a few seconds since Manjiro did not know what to do, what to say. He wasn't ready to have babies, not yet. And, now he can't even fuck her raw and he would hate to wear condom on his wedding night. He always used protection while visiting brothels even though he knew all the girls were clean.

“I. . . I want . . . I need time”, she breathed out. Manjiro’s eyebrows jumped since an entirely different fact dawned on him. Could it be. . . she is. . .?

“Are. . .” he cleared his throat. “Are you still a virgin ?”

“What do you mean still?” , she thought.

“umm-hmm” He raked his fingers through his pitch-black hair revealing his dragon tattoo as her feeble umm-hmm echoed in his head. She is a virgin, that is, he is going to be her first, probably for everything. Honestly, he wouldn't have minded if it were opposite since he was dry for almost an year and now had to keep himself under control. Great. He is truly fucked.

“Do you trust me, y/n ?”

“I can try ”

Manjiro laid out his hand in front of her. She hesitated at first but the moment she kept her palm over his, Manjiro lowered his head to kiss her knuckles. As soon as he raised his head, he pulled her against his body wrapping his other hand around her waist. Her body felt warm,less shaky as he felt her nose grazing against his chest muscles.

“So, you're saying that. . .”, he earned her stares on him as he spoke further. “No one was handsome enough for your taste ?”

“It was a all - girls college.”

“Uhhh-Hahh!” , Manjiro lips tugged up. “And they didn't tell you about anything? What actually happens during wedding night? When they came to know about our marriage.”

“I wasn't supposed to talk about my life, this life to them. I made friends. They were nice but i missed home.” Manjiro was taken aback by her ways for two reasons; one : she wasn't afraid of him like others, two: she was innocent but not naive, a little brave he might add.

“Y/N ?”

“Hmm?”

And when she peered up Manjiro pressed his lips against her cheeks just at the corner of her lips without a second thought. He has fucked enough girls to know a woman's weak spots but this felt out of syllabus. He guided her hands over his shoulders as his lips proceeded along her neckline. Manjiro bucked his hips , pressed his hard on against her entrance earning a loud gasp with her hands locking around his nape. Bingo.

Manjiro swiftly pushed her on to the bed. He stood looking at her while she panted vigorously. He discarded his upper clothing, crawling on top her. His head dipped while she leaned in, lips slightly parted awaiting for his kiss. But Manjiro’s lithe fingers worked on the buttons of her night dress. “What? You thought I was gonna kiss you. . . on your lips. You asked for time, remember?”

But immediately Manjiro’s lips were silenced by a kiss. Dry, short-lived and quick. His hands were still on undoing the buttons Manjiro couldn't help but grin.

“Is that you call a kiss? ”one of his hands travelled underneath her thin night gown, way up to her vagina. His fingers penetrated her at the same time his lips dashed on hers. Manjiro wasn't in mood to hold back because her body was eager. She was just a little afraid and by her desperate hold on his arms, Manjiro could tell she was loving it.

He explored her lips and kissed as deep as he could. “That is ... What you call a kiss.”, he whispered against her lips before pecking her cheeks. He added one more finger and quickened his pace, hitting her spot, watching her eyes blanking out, her grips growing stronger on his arms, body squirming underneath his. Her hips reflexively bucked up as orgasm washed over her body.

“Good girl. ”, he hummed as he rolled beside her giving space to breath licking his fingers shamelesly.

@tokyometronetwork

[complete-clownery]

Not me deciding that I wanna figure out how does Macaques dojo work, cuz I couldnt seem to find any ideas of it on the internet lol

Okay so long long LONG rant:

Ik that in canon the whole place looks kinda-- moldy and shit and I get the lot of hc about how Macaque probably doesnt even live there since its in a very industrial outer neighborhood of Megaplois, and also it probably isnt really decorated or looks like someone is living in there at all, but I like to think that he has standards and they put like 272636373 nois cancelation seals on their bedroom so he can sleep camly when he actually can sleep (since in my hc Macaque suffers from insomnia (its a pretty common hc tho, but you get it)) and I think the outer circle of Megaplois is even tho industral and under constructuion on most parts, its probably more quiet than downtown

And I also like to imagine, Macaque even tho if not commited to a place will make it more homy. But looking at my reference pictures, in the dojo there were also a lot of posters and paintings (and in MKAGC Macaque did mention he might have a poster of wukong soooo~~)

For the layout I went after whatever felt right, since I had like 4 pictures to piece together a two-story house with a gallery(??) so its actually just me deciding what I want and where I wanna put it

(Here are the screenshots from lmk s1ep9 I used:)

Okay Okay if you couldnt tell, for some reason im really hyped about this stuff so im going to lead you trough my thougtprocess, when imagining this whole thing, in order from ground level to gallery

1. Ground level:

Ahh yes ground level: the problem child

(Im going to keep it somewhat brief here cuz I wrote a shit ton of explanations for it, but that somehow got deleted which I am super pissed about btw)

So I saw that a lot of hc with Macaques place are mostly that first floor is the dojo and the second floor is the living area, buuut~~ based on the screenshots of the series that doesnt make any sense. My reasoning? Simple really, its bc you can see the ceiling If you are standing in the dojo. This could lead to the conclusion that:

"Okay maybe then there is no second floor just a gallery in there somewhere and thats it".

Sure we can say that, but then you would ignore the fact that you cant see the front door of the building when Macaque slams Mk into a weaponstand.

"Okay then its on the other side of the room that we never got to see in the episode"

I mean maybe sure but to me from an animation point of view it just doesnt make sense, just why would they flipp the camera angle like that (I mean anyone can think whatever they want, everyones opinion is valid, its not like anyone would ever argue me on this one ((or read this whole brainrot trough in the first place lol)))

Haha anyways regardless of anything, let's go back to talking about the first floor, shall we?

Everything is pretty self explenatory: when you come in on the front door youll see a little shoe rack where you can but your shoes, and one stair to seperate the ante-room from the rest of the house

Then theres a long hall that leads to the enterence of the storageroom, the random room and the staircase that leads to the second floor

I couldnt decide on what to put in that big room-- I had no clue -- I was thinking maybe Macaque could let other people rent it for a few days of maybe theres a shop with an owner whos ranting the place from Macaque (I think thats an interasting concept, but I didnt explore any of them) oh well thats that tho

"""somewhat brief""""

Second floor:

This was probably the easiest, since 90% of it is the dojo

But before that when you walk up to the second floor you can see a big boubel door that opens to the dojo, and a normal door that opens to the bathroom, which is strategicly placed there by yours truely. There is big brain logic behind it,, it might be inconvinient for Macaque to walk down the stairs from his bedroom trough the dojo to the bathroom (but also he can just shadow portal there--), but when ocasionally he mentors Mk, he might have to go to the bathroom while hes at Macaques place and I dont think Macaque would apritiate someone stomping trough his personal area, and thats why the bathroom is conviniently placed next to the dojo and not that far from the bathroom I know im a genius (**read everything in the bathroom part with a lot of sarcasm**)

Anyways, we couldnt even see all four of the dojos walls so that was also a 'gamble', but I went with a simple bouble door that I mentioned before and two weapon stands (yes those are weapon stands) and other than that you can see the rest of the room on the screenshots, theres also the staircase and that has some closet underneath it, but thats about it

The gallery (my personal favorit):

Looking at my reference pictures i could see that the dojo took up a lot of space almost taking up the 1/2 of the building, which I think is reasonable and kinda cool, but that means small living area which I think is even cooler (I am a huge fan of small practical spaces, they feel so so cozy)

So Yeah the living space: mostly two rooms that I also illustrated on top of this post, (you probably saw it) with a balkony thingy before the enterence of the rooms, where you can look down and see the entirety of the dojo, good for observing.

When you go in the door (actually havent decided if I want to put a door there or curtains for style but meh who knows who cares), youll enter the small but spacious kitchen. I dont see the Six Eared Macaque as a homecook, more of a fake cooking guy (only making basic foods like eggs or toast, maybe ocasionally pancake), hints there is no built in stove or owen just a portable stove, a kettle and a toaster and a small fridge that has MKs drawing (that he drew for them at the end of season 3) magneted there :]

Other than that theres a sink and an old television, he got from the randomest place ever, maybe he fished it out of the trash idk, but he put it on top of the cabinets (rarely watches anything on it)

On the baseplan you can see that there was supposed to be a small table next to the sink with a chair, but it didn't make it to the final drawing cuz let's be honest: drawing interior in correct perspective without a reference picture is just not my strongest artskill I posess, so I got pissed and put a trashcan in there, Macaque can eat in his bed

Talking about bed, let's move on to the Six Eared Macaques room:

It is very small but pretty comfortable with a small bed but a shit ton of pillows for a good nights sleep, other than that there are a nightstand that has the Lantern on it (I know it sorta got lost/destroyed after defeating LBD but I wanted to put it there) and a drawer.

The nightstand probably doesnt have a lot innit, just some nick-nacks and tissues and maybe snacks, or a book or something, the drawer stores some of his clothes, but since I like to think that Macaque is a fashion icon that wont be able to fit most of their clothes, so maybe he stores them in a pocket dimension of shadows, and only has some esentials there when he needs to get ready quickly.

And we could talk about the posters plastered around the room, but most of them are kinda self-explanatory, but there are the poster of his shadowplaly of the hero and the warrior, some drawing, a "Hang in there babygirl!" Poster with a cat on it hanging in there, a poster of the monkey king (heh), phantom of the opera poster and a-- well--- that ones for my bestie hope she'll notice it, its a spies are forever poster (really fun musical a of spies, go watch it its on youtube), and a drawing he brought( maybe)

And thats about the bedroom

And we are still not done, how are we feeling about that?? Huh?? (You dont have to answert, this shit took me about 2 hours to write :] )

LAST PLACE: the corner of the windows opposit the kitchen and the bedroom. Its just a chill little place with pillows and blankets, where someone can bundle up and enjoy some tea or read a book or brood, whatever the monkey prefers. The special thing about it, is that you cant access the place without knowing how to levitate, fly, jump high, or use portals, not that much of a game changer since more than half of the lmk cast could get up there, but still a bit of a barrier in my opinion

AAAAAND~~~ thats it omg

Hi hello if you read this trough could you please comment or reblog with this: "🐵" cuz I wanna know about the brave soilders who went trough this immense amount of clownery,,, holly mother---

If you read this all 👏👏👏 you are amazing thank you for appreciating my work this much, have an amazing day or night ✨🪲

[milksnake-tea]

Can I ask for Nanook and Yaoshi (separate) x gn!reader whose a nameless hcs? ( akivili hasn't died yet)

loving nameless.

characters: nanook, yaoshi

contains: ooc!characters, slight yandere themes ??

a/n: these two were pretty similar so i bunched them up together, hope u don't mind! personally i can't see nanook abandoning their path to join the express so im sorry that will not be included 😭😭 i know u said nanook is ooc but my perfectionist self is too stickly for that HAUSHSU the yaoshi bias is real here tho

The second you mention your relationship, you're immediately faced with backlash. Both Welt and Akivili are absolutely appalled at the very notion of you being lovers with Nanook of all people. The Express members were practically begging you to reconsider, after all, Nanook was their mortal enemy. Nanook was dangerous, evil, and well... Nanook.

But Nanook was devoted to you, and wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon. You can still remember the dangerous flash in their molten eyes when Welt voiced his opposition, antimatter forming around them as they burned figurative holes into his body.

For a terrifying moment, you were afraid that they would simply kill the man, but it seemed that the presence of another Aeon made Nanook remember themself. In the end, they merely reminded the Trailblaze they were more than capable of destroying both Akivili and the Express, end of discussion.

The Express took a while to get used to the Destruction's visits. Pom-Pom hid behind Welt's legs whenever the Aeon appeared, but as time went on, the two of them grew to tolerate the other.

It's... ironic, to say the least, when Nanook welcomes you back after a trailblazing trip, especially after sealing one of their many Stellarons. It's something that has led to several playfights, where you whine to Nanook about what the Stellaron did to that world, while Nanook merely pats your head and pretends to care.

To be honest, you're the only reason why Nanook doesn't just plant another Stellaron after the one you just finished sealing.

Against you, the Aeon of Destruction looks akin to a kicked puppy whenever you drag them away from planets recovering from their Stellarons. There are certain planets whose civilizations you've befriended and are off-limits to Nanook's purge. It takes a lot out of the Aeon to go against the will of their Path, but they manage (you later catch them absolutely decimating another planet in order to satisfy their urges).

That said, when you do go on trailblazing missions, you have to be careful not to get hurt. Nanook obeys the "no murder" rule when on the Express, but any other worlds are fair game. Whenever you get so much so as a paper cut, you have to glare pointedly at the sky, knowing that Nanook was watching you.

All in all, being a Nameless as well as the lover of Nanook is quite the impressive feat. Many of the Express will never truly be accustomed to the Destruction, and the Stellarons often become an awkward topic.

But you make it work, somehow. Even if one day, you'll have to face down your lover for the sake of the galaxy.

Yaoshi met you on the Xianzhou ships, when you, alongside your fellow Nameless, faced off against a couple of their Disciples. You were quite the thorn in the Disciples' side, foiling their plans left and right, and so Yaoshi became intrigued, wondering just who was giving them so much trouble.

For a while, they merely observed you from the shadows, keeping themself hidden from both the Xianzhou and the Disciples. They didn't see what the big deal was - you were powerful, sure, but so were the rest of your companions. If anything, Yaoshi wagered that the one holding the Stellaron within them, or that older gentleman were bigger threats than you were.

They really should've left it at that. They should've turned away, perhaps given their Disciples a little boost, but nevertheless, Yaoshi should've left.

But they didn't.

Something about you kept them there, on enemy territory. Something about you lured them in, enraptured them. They found that their eyes were never able to fully leave your form, watching you in awe as you fought against their people.

Yaoshi speaks in your dreams, always sweetly smiling as they converse with you. They're wary of revealing their true identity, knowing how the Xianzhou paints them as some kind of villain (the audacity of that Hunt, honestly).

For the most part, you know them as a stranger - a beautiful stranger, but a stranger nevertheless. They visit frequently, always asking the same things: How was your day today? Did anything of interest happen? Oh, the Abundance's creations caused you some issues as of late? How troublesome.

As time passes, you become accustomed, comfortable with their presence, and you begin looking forward to your meetings. With Yaoshi, you can vent your troubles without fear of judgement, exchange jokes you would've otherwise been embarrassed to say, anything your heart desires. Yaoshi makes it easy to let your guard down, especially with their kind and empathetic nature.

When they inevitably reveal themself as Yaoshi, the Aeon of Abundance, you truthfully weren't surprised. You've figured that they were some type of deity - the arms being a dead giveaway that they weren't human. Their frequent complaints about a certain "pursuer" only strengthened your suspicions.

But what shook you was their admittance to their attachment to you. Yaoshi hadn't planned on staying around for this long, but you, whether intentionally or not, had carved a spot for yourself right in the Aeon's heart.

You didn't know what to make of it. You knew, deep inside, that you felt the same way. You didn't want to push them away, but knowing that they were the reason behind the Xianzhou's suffering made you hesitate. Your friends on the Xianzhou would surely never forgive you if you became lovers with the Abundance.

But Yaoshi understood. They saw your conflict, your hesitance, and they smiled - that infuriatingly sweet, understanding smile. They took your hand in theirs, and kissed your forehead.

It's alright if you needed time to process everything. Yaoshi was nothing if not patient. Whenever you were ready, Yaoshi would be waiting for you with open arms.

[cherry-blossomtea]

How to make money in this godforsaken anime game because I promise it’s not hard

Tips for everyone:

Universalis is free and not against TOS because it’s a website. Use this to easily see what things are selling on your world.

You should be sending your retainers out on ventures as often as you can. Send them out on explorations to get stuff to trade in for GC seals that can be used to purchase items from the quartermaster that sell well on the Marketboard as well as More Ventures. Or just send them out directly to get stuff.

Wondrous Tales has a decent payout on top of the exp boost. It’s not a lot but it’s free. Make sure you’re saving your Gil bags tho for>>

Doman Restoration in the Doman Enclave, at max level, will net you 30k gil per week. It’s not a lot but it takes five minutes a week. Use the gil bags to easily fill out your donation basket and don’t worry about canon.

Leve quests don’t pay a LOT comparatively but they are a reliable source of income for any job.

Do ur hunts. Not because this will make you gil. But because this will save you gil. Literally just slay the elite mark that week for a couple expansions, and spend your hunt tokens on aetheryte tickets. Never spend 2000 gil teleporting from Sharlayan to Radz-At-Han again.

If you like running instanced content:

Adventurer in need bonuses are not one time only. They persist even after your daily reward has been claimed

Roll on everything. Turn that into your grand company for seals. Use seals to purchase items. Sell these items. Ta-Da

Same thing for tomestones. Go buy shit from the vendors in the small cities with your poetics, and current tomestone mats will always sell well

If you like rping

Get a job. I’m serious. Clubs are always hiring wait staff and backend folks (no ERP required). I’m sure people who are in this scene know more about it than me.

ERP pays well my guy

If you like crafting/gathering

It doesn’t matter what level you’re at. Go to your crafting log. On the left hand side is three tabs marked with a stair, a bag with a star, and a book. Click into the bag menu. Scroll down to housing. Look what you can craft. See what’s selling. Purchase what materials you don’t have so long as you make a profit. Congrats.

Send your retainers out to gather items for housing crafts. Or just the mats directly and sell those. Do a little research into what free companies use for things like airship and submersible voyages/components and farm that

If you are maxed out, remember HARM—Housing, Aethersand, Raiding supplies, intermediate Materials. It can be difficult to sell gear because of market saturation, but the materials to make gear are always in high demand, especially those tricky intermediate crafts. Selling raid food and tinctures is easy money.

Diadem. Skybuilder mats sell well. Like. REALLY well. And you can hop into the diadem with a really low level. Have fun.

Speaking of the firmament, your skybuilder scrips are basically worth a fortune. Almost everything you can exchange for skybuilders scrips sells super well on the market.

Do your custom deliveries. It really doesn’t take long. Do whatever you want with the scrips. Materia always sells well.

The end

[lowkeyrobin]

MCYT ; songs that they associate with you

includes tommyinnit, tubbo, freddie badlinu, ranboo, quackity

warnings ; horrible music taste. Did a few for each of them lmaooo. also let's act like dmca doesn't exist on twitch or whatever. if schlatt can play Fleetwood Mac on stream then who cares yk

masterlist

BADLINU

Kiss From A Rose ; Seal

You guys watched Batman Forever together and this song came on during credits. Life changing experience.

You had the DVD version with the music video bonus, that was being replayed for like twenty minutes

He has it on almost every playlist he has

He seems like the type of person to make a private, bad quality edit/music video of you two to it

Goosebumps ; Sorana

Dude this song perfectly reflected how he felt before you guys got together 🙏🙏

Plays this on stream when you're streaming with him for background noise.

Before you get together, he still plays it, just makes sure to not let you know that he feels that exact way about you.

Little inside joke between you two, it's kinda your song in a way

Editors love editing you guys to this song omg. They're always cute as hell too

TOMMYINNIT

FaceTime with my Mom (Tonight) ; Bo Burnham

You guys karaoke-d the shit out of this song on stream with Jack and Freddie.

It became a core memory for him. You were only friends at the time but it kinda made him realize that he wanted to be more than just your friend.

He actually FaceTimed his mom afterwards and she said hello to chat and everything

Little funny moment that he loves to think about

Someday (Remastered) ; Sugar Ray

He found this song on your older music playlist

He plays it a lot and thinks about you

Like daydreams that you're on a warm beach with all your friends and stuff

The song has like a warm, summery vibe to it so all summer he makes sure this comes up on your queue when streaming or in the car or whatever.

You guys probably dance around the living room to this song idk

TUBBO

Where The Lines Overlap ; Paramore

"No one is as lucky as us" REAL.

He cherishes you in his own special way yk?

He thinks he's so lucky to have you when you're surprised you could even pull someone, let alone him

Before you guys started dating, he saw an edit of you two to this song and he religiously watched it LMAO

You're both Paramore fans so this worked out perfectly.

Orange Show Speedway ; Lizzy McAlpine

the guitar sounds exactly how you feel to him if that makes sense

the happy nostalgia/dopamine rush kind of feel makes him all smiley and makes him think of you

he literally fell in love at a car speedway show that you two went to together for a little "first date" vlog so 🙏🙏🙏

it's just perfect idk man

RANBOO

Already Over ; Mike Shinoda

this song reminds me a lot of genloss so yk I had to include it here

but yeah, genloss vibes

reminds them a lot of yours and his genloss characters and their relationships and whatnot

when on set for s2 they listen to this on repeat bc your dynamic is so cool

although the viewers r desperately trying to kill you bc you're kind of at fault for genloss! rans trauma/predicament

they'll figure out that's not totally true tho

White Noise ; James Marriott

"I'd quite like to go home now" mother fucker you are his home :(

you're the "What's the point of having a friend when you're on your own in the end" outlook and they're the "I'll make an attempt knowing that I'll fuck it up" in a /pos outlook

you two go perfectly together

like two puzzle pieces, straight the fuck up

the cutest of dynamics

QUACKITY

Le Jardin ; La Femme

you guys watched Fresh together (10/10 btw)

this song came on halfway through and you soundsearched it and quickly dove into the la femme rabbit hole

he thought it was adorable cause you kind of understood the music but he understood completely

honestly got you into learning Spanish more

he literally only sees you listening to la femme to the point where he's a little concerned

you're just addicted to the paradigmes album you're fine

but he does play this on stream a lot just for you

editors go crazy after figuring out its always being played for you omg

Don't Want It ; Lil Nas X

holy shit this song goes hard

anyways yall always play this to get hyped up

he found an edit of you guys to this song and he thinks about it 24/7

literally the "people in my life should know I am not the old me" and the "wanted happiness, wanted forgiveness" duo

I can't explain it it's just vibes

[bonkalore]

In the Bleeding Magic AU, I have that Daniel starts gradually turning into an "amphibeast" and they aren't sure why and he tries hiding it from the others for a while bc he wants to figure it out on his own, till things get a bit out of hand and the others only find out around this moment.

In my version, I have that Jayce used him at the beginning when they first met when he was trying to get into the coffer by having some of his blood used as part of a key on unlocking it (this having to do with his family bloodline to the Spellbounds who sealed it away), and doing so triggered that ancient family oath of protection magic or curse, really, and is causing this now for him every time the Dread starts getting more out of control. So now they're kind of interlocked with that! Fun!

Jayce only knew to some extent that SOMETHING might happen from doing so, but had NO idea what that might entail, and at the time... he didn't really care what happened to Daniel if it meant getting what he wanted! He felt a little bad bc he helped reunite him with Shak, but not bad enough lol Unfortunately for Jayce at this point of the story tho, he's gotten attached enough to Daniel to actually care and does feel bad now. He'll do his best to try and give answers and fix this...

[juss-soupp]

How The Lost Boys Find Their Mate

A/N : First fic/head cannon ! Thank you @silvermaplealder , @misslavenderlady , @ghoulgeousimmaculate , and anyone else who gave me the little push that I needed! <3

David

The moment he smelt something heavenly lingering in the air, he wasted no time following the trail. He knew that it was possible for vampires to come across their mate throughout their eternal life, but it wasn’t as simple as sweeping their mates off of their feet and hiding them away from the world.

Now that I think of it I’m pretty sure David would be the one out of the four who were most likely to kidnap their mates, but let’s just move on from that-

It didn’t take the platinum blonde too long to find out where the scent was coming from- and the moment he set his eyes on you, it was signed, sealed, and delivered that you were his. No ifs, ands, or buts.

David wasn’t the type to take risks. Now that he was positive that you were his mate, he saw nothing wrong with taking you away and waiting for the Stockholm syndrome to kick in. Even his is inner vampire encouraged it- but he resented for now.

David would start off by simply approaching you, making small talk. He would probably say something along the lines of “it’s dangerous to be all alone in a town like this.” He would use whatever sweet talk or charm that he had in him to make you fond of him.

He would even go as far as bringing you gifts, cash he stole from his victims, or just anything that you liked. Bro is a certified sugar daddy- glucose guardian, if you will.

David would most likely initiate everything first, asking you to accompany him or go on a little bike ride with him. Being able to walk with you on the boardwalk allowed the public eye to see that you were affiliated with him, meaning that you couldn’t be messed with.

If some surfer nazi decided to be brave one night and pull a few moves, let’s just say that David would make sure it was the last thing they ever did.

It wouldn’t take him too long to reveal what he was to you and the bond that you both shared. David would take his time, but wouldn’t waste time either. He would have planned everything out- and would chose his words carefully. He couldn’t have you running around screaming that he and his brothers were vampires.

He would even bring up the fact that you could also be like them- and would heavily recommend it. Being able to change meant that he wouldn’t have to worry about you getting hurt, and the mate bond between you two would only grow stronger.

The other three boys would most definitely tease David for how whipped he was for you- and would end up in a bad mood. Nothing you couldn’t solve, tho <3

Dwayne

The moment he first saw you, Dwayne wouldn’t immediately approach you as quickly as David would.

He wanted to see what made you tick- wanted to know what sort of things you liked. Whether it be books, movies, food, places- he wanted to know if all before he full on approached you.

In this time, he acted somewhat like a protector- a guardian Angel. If someone started to approach you, say a Surfer Nazi, one mean glance from Dwayne would make them reconsider.

Of course, Paul and Marko thought it was funny as hell. Dwayne the jolly green giant had finally found the one and was pretty much stalking them. David would be indifferent about it. He wouldn’t see it as a huge deal, but would be content that one of his brothers had found their mate. (#we stan david)

It would probably be weeks before Dwayne finally approached you- but once he did, his suave way with words and his gentlemanly demeanor would practically win you over. I mean cmon- you and I both know it would.

He would teach you how to skateboard- even would patch you up if you had an accident. Husband material.

Dwayne would also lift you up if you struggled to reach for something or if you couldn’t see something- like at the beach concert or at Max’s video store if you wanted to look at a movie on the top shelf. He liked to see you blush, so he would do anything in his power to make you swoon all over again.

If he shows you the cave, he would sit with you on a couch or something and would read a book- simply comforted by your presence. Bonus points if you play with his hair because.. yes.

If you took a liking to Laddie, he himself would swoon. Anytime you would play with him or help him with anything- Dwayne wouldn’t be able to hide his contentment.

Once he reveals to you what exactly he and his brothers are, he would be somewhat nervous. He didn’t want to lose you- and he had worked so hard to gain your interest and affection. Just give this man a hug :(

Dwayne would mention how you would be able to change to be like him- but didn’t force you into it. You were the best thing that would ever happen to him, and he would rather drive a steak through his own heart rather than to cause you grief. (It’s giving romeo and Juliet-)

Also- he would buy you snacks and food and leave little romance poetry around for you to find during the day when he couldn’t be with you. You would have him absolutely wrapped around your finger.

Paul

Honestly- Paul would most likely accidentally come across his mate. He would probably be running around in the mosh pit at the beach concert area and bump into you or something like that.

He would bump into you and simply apologize- but would do a double take. AWOOGAAAA

He wouldn’t yell at the top of his lungs that you were his mate and that he was a vampire- but he would follow you around like a lost puppy and bother you until you agreed to hang out with him.

He was very persistent, and had no intentions of giving up anytime soon. It’s not like it’s everyday that you find the love of your eternal life.

If you liked the same music that he likes, he would rant about his music taste and gift you a bunch of stolen CD’s and records. Bro was trying his best out here.

Paul would most definitely offer to have a smoke session with you. You and Paul would also most likely be the terror couple to his brothers. When you two were around- no one would get any sort of peace and quiet. He would either be frantically rambling about something random or laughing his ass off cause you coughed when you hit a joint.

Despite his antics, he would try and be understanding whenever you feel upset or sad about something. He has the attention span of a fish, but would do anything for you.

Once he revealed what he was, he would act like it wasn’t such a big deal. He thought it was cool, actually. I mean- who wouldn’t want to party for the rest of their life?

If you thought so too, he would offer to change you. If you didn’t want to immediately turn into a vampire, he would simply go on with his night.. but would eventually keep asking until you agreed. He would miss not being able to listen to music with you or going to concerts with you.

Paul is definitely a fan of PDA. He has to have an arm around your waist or a hand in the back pocket of your jeans- just making sure to let everyone know that you were taken.

Paul would most definitely get into lots of fights over you. If someone spoke about you in a bad way- or lord forbid someone touch you- he would go feral. In private or public- it would go down right then and there. Someone get this dog a leash-

But for real though, Paul is caring in his own way. He likes to have fun, and likes spending time with you.

Marko

Marko is a little funky guy from the get-go.

He is an artisan- a lover of the arts. The curly haired Italian sought out people like him. When he isn’t causing trouble, he would be painting or sketching anything his brain could think of.

He would probably find you shopping on the boardwalk for art supplies or jewelry, and would comment about it and ask you about your hobbies. Once he was able to confirm that you were his mate, he would keep in touch.

He would coincidentally show up at art expo’s or the arts and craft shops at the right time- striking up conversations with you about anything he could think of.

If you were to compliment him about his jacket or his jewelry, it would be set in stone that he was going to have you.

Marko would ask you to be his muse (paint me like one of your French girls, Jack)- posing for paintings or would ask you for positive criticism on his work. It was nice to have someone around that appreciated something that he did and knew what they were talking about.

Marko rarely bought things from the boardwalk for gifts- because he thought that handcrafted things would hold more sentimental value. He would make you jewelry or even give you a jacket with patches all over it so the two of you could match.

Marko is probably the most cruel, besides David, out of all of his brothers. If someone were to get handsy, he would ensure that they would suffer. You were his, and he intended to keep it that way.

He would name and take care of the cave pigeons with you. He probably would name them all Marko Jr. , so you would most likely be left to name almost all of them.

He would eventually reveal to you what he was and what he had to do in order to survive, but made sure that you wouldn’t get scared or run away. He would let you observe his vamped out face, allowing you to be close with the monster that lurked within him.

Marko would most likely convince you to become a vampire somehow with the help of David. He couldn’t bare to lose you- because simply thinking about it made his cold blood boil.

Marko would cook human food with you- maybe like homemade bread or pizza (Mama Mia).

When he gets upset about something he will ramble in Italian until you are able to calm him down. A peck on the lips or a hug will do just fine.

——————————————————————

A/N : I hope that you all enjoyed! my asks are open if you want to see a certain head cannon or fic! Have a lovely day/night! <3

[astarionconsort]

Ascendant Astarion was driven by fear, but can you really blame him?

Okay so I just read the newest interview that mentioned Astarion reasoning behind his ascension was driven by fear and I thought it made sense?

Tho I don't believe that fear was the only force behind the reason of his decision to ascend, there's a longing to be alive again to enjoy everything that the world has to offer, the need for certainty and also to protect his loved ones (when he has a love interest)

But let's talk about this fear part, there are people (even the companions) who expected that 'he should have known better' or 'shouldnt even think about ascension' and sees this fear in the recent interview as something that is so horrid but here's the thing.

"You are right to be afraid." I mean DUH obviously it makes sense. Astarion lives in a very dangerous world where countless undead risen from their graves thanks to necromancer toying with life and death, there are bandits everywhere, monsters, evil gods who never failed to make life even more miserable than ever and even the supposedly good aligned god can be so awful at times, etc etc.

The party that he traveled with and himself were infected with worms that would eat their brain and transformed them into a living husk, the absolute cult and the dead three were on their tail, angry devils, Cazador wanted him back and not to mention the Githyanki and their lich queen wanted them dead as well for what happened with the prism

Even during act 3 where they were supposedly close to victory. The victory was not set in stone yet, nothing is certain and something could have gone wrong. They could have died or even worse!

Not to mention he's a man who was tormented for 200 hundred years. He was stripped of everything that he had and even his own reflection, reduced to catched rats to sustain himself.

Can you really blame him for wanting to seek a way out from Cazador's torment, the hunger for blood and the indignity that he suffered for so long?

Also it would be harder to convince him to not ascend if Tav or Durge romanced him. Because now he's not just afraid for his own safety and his future but also his lover. The only person whom he ever love and genuinely love him back in 200 years (also not ending up as a victim for Cazador)

Most people would have killed him when they found that he's a vampire and infected with an Illithid parasite. Most people would have abandoned him

Tav/Durge was the only light in his life after years of living in darkness and torment, you can't really blame him for wanting to keep this light from being snuffed out by untimely death

And if that means sacrificed 7000 souls that he already damned anyway (undead like vampire wouldn't be accepted by good aligned gods in the after life, not sure about evil gods but most deities most won't accept them) so be it

I don't see this fear behind his decision as something that is objectively awful? I mean it is a natural respond anyone would have if they were in his shoes

Then you might ask "If Astarion loves Tav or Durge that much why he insisted on turning them into a vampire? And break up if they refused?"

Because he was overwhelmed by his beating heart/ his renewed sense, the high from his power and he's also insecure. At that point in act 3 he expected Tav and Durge to stand by his side no matter what

Because they were the only person who didn't kill the parasite infested vampire spawn at the beach, who loves him anyway despite the face he was a man with nothing to his name, who were willing to sacrifice 7000 souls and killed the Gur for him!

Ascended Astarion didn't want THAT special person to be taken by early death or a fate worse than death

He needed the reassurance that his love would be safe and no gods nor fate will take them away

If they refused to be an immortal vampire then they were as good as sealed their fate to death. Astarion didn't want to face that heartbreak

The thing that I don't agree with the interview is that the interpretation that ascension sent him to a horrible place? It was kinda vague? Like worse place when? During or after the ascension? Because this cannot apply after the ascension since I have taken so many screenshot and recording of ascendant astarion and I didn't see him feeling miserable about his fate. He was happy that the hunger gone and he could see his reflection again

Post final battle? The epilogue? After the epilogue party? This cannot be applied to all people, all route, all Tav/Durge and Astarion in general because there's variations. I mean you might see ascended Astarion as a bit lonely because he doesn't end up with anyone but in my Tav's universe he has a consort who stay by his side and their relationship is still going strong because my Tav is aligned with him

[lynn-writes-things]

Ok you touched upon it in your GOD TIER relationship writing but could you do headcanons for the jjk men that focus on how possessive and/or jealous they are with their partner? ☺️ Thanks

oh ASBOLUTELY I can!! thank you for the request!! :) I'm lovin' these haha

jealousy, jealousy - jjk men

starring: Yuji Itadori; Megumi Fushiguro; Yuta Okkotsu; Toge Inumaki; Noritoshi Kamo; Satoru Gojo; Suguru Geto; Toji Fushiguro; Naoya Zenin; Choso Kamo; Ryomen Sukuna

cw: some of these get pretty suggestive!! ; very very very brief mention of a knife k!nk in Toji's, but I promise I did not elaborate at all I promise <3

Yuji Itadori:

1/10

he only really gets jealous if you're laughing at some guy's jokes if he doesn't already know him, cause he likes being the person to make you laugh the most :(

ngl he gets a teensy bit pouty even if one of his friends make you laugh harder than he does :((

he's not overbearing tho, he gets that you're your own person and can talk to/laugh with whoever you want, but he might get a bit irked every now and then

he'll probably come up and throw his arms around you, or kiss your cheek, and tbh he's such a social dude that he'd probably start talking to the guy

(tbh they'd probably become friends, it's Yuji, man just goes around being his sweet himbo self and ends up collecting a new buddy everywhere he goes)

Megumi Fushiguro:

7/10? mayyybe 8/10?

he's super insecure in himself, having such a rollercoaster of an upbringing will do that to ya'

idk he just doesn't see himself as being as he really is, he's got a lot of childhood trauma that keeps his self-confidence stunted

(because evidently Fushiguro men cannot grasp the concept of therapy)

he'll either come up and grab your hand/pull you into a side hug or somethin' along those lines

nothing too extreme, he's not big on pda ya know?

OR he gets really pouty and reserved

you'll have to get him alone and ask him what's wrong, pls help him figure out how to talk through his problems dude, he needs the helping hand

reassurance and affection will fix him right up, don't you worry!!

the key to fixing a pouty Megumi is just lots of love <3

ngl if you're gonna throw in some minimal spice here, he'd totally be the type to mark you up that night (probably not anywhere too visible, he's still Megumi, still a very easily flustered baby boy <3)

Yuta Okkotsu:

2/10

he's got a bit of insecurity in himself, but ever since making friends with his classmates he's really gotten better with his confidence!

sure, dating you kinda shook his nerves back up, but he trusts you completely, he doesn't think you'd ever cheat on him, so he doesn't really get too worried about it ya know?

that's MOST of the time

sometimes someone will just rub him the wrong way and he'll step in, usually just kinda hugging you from behind or kissing your cheek/forehead or somethin' like that

he'll definitely make a point of calling you by a cute petname while doing it too

like a lil' "Hey baby!" or "Hi, love!!" :) <3

Toge Inumaki:

7/10, bordering an 8/10

he's just.. insecure :(

between the seals on his mouth and his limited speech, he just doesn't really feel like he can give you the kind of love that you deserve

cause he's too worried about uncovering his mouth to kiss you in public, and he can't fucking talk to you

it just makes him feel bad, like you deserve better

that being said, he doesn't wanna lose you, so he will absolutely fight for you if someone tries to flirt with you

he's got no issue with other forms of pda, so he'll come over and wrap his arms around you, put his head on your shoulder, or he'll just straight up grab your arm and pull you away (not hard, baby boy would never ever hurt you)

he might get pretty pouty tho, probably get pretty in his own head about it

so you'll have to kiss him and hold his hand and reassure him that you love him, that he's more than enough for you, and that you'd never want anyone else - just him <3

now.... I have touched on this......

if Toge can TELL that you're playing it up and TRYING to make him jealous?

ngl it kinda turns him on if you're doing it on purpose lmoa

this mf is NOT afraid to leave visible hickeys <3

let's just say he's gonna make damn sure that you know you are his <3

Noritoshi Kamo:

hmmmmmmmmmm, 5/10? maybe?

idk it's hard to gauge with him cause he refuses to act on his feelings for the sake of saving face publicly

like he absolutely gets jealous, but he'll never really show how jealous he is

he'll just kinda come up and say that he needs you for something

or generally come up with an excuse for you needing to leave

if he's REALLY jealous then he'll lead you away with his hand on your wrist or arm

he's definitely the type to talk to you about it once you're alone together

you won't have to force it out of him (like a certain somebody) cause he wants to clear things up right away

he's got enough stress goin' on, he doesn't want your relationship to be stressful too, so he's big on communication <3

he's a verrry affectionate guy in private, so if you reassure him of your love and give him lots of cuddles and kisses then he'll relax and be happy <3 :)

Satoru Gojo:

9/10 if you add in the possessive factor

if we take away the possessiveness, mayyyybe closer to like a 4/10

Gojo is one cocky son of a bitch, but he is also a fucking ball of bottled up trauma, ya know?

he trusts you as much as he can, but again, trauma comes into play here

man has deep rooted trust issues and until he properly addresses and works through them with you, he can't allow himself to fully trust that you won't leave him out of nowhere too

ANYWAYS

he's good at fronting ya know? so if someone's making him jealous, he's apt to just cling to you like a child and flash the dude the cockiest fuckin' grin after he kisses your cheek super obnoxiously (we're talking full blown "shmack!" noises)

"Made a new friend, my lil' mochi? Whatcha talkin' about? Hm?"

nowwwww if you TRY making him jealous, he will not take the bait

he will simply wait until you are alone (even if that means dragging you into a closet somewhere) and uh... he'll make sure everyone in a nearby radius hears you say exaactly who you belong to <3

Suguru Geto:

ahhhhh, the cunning, conniving, cocky bastard himself <3

0/10 tbh

like I said in the other post, he's too confident in himself and in his trust for you to really get jealous

he is possessive tho, but in a really cocky way??

if he sees someone getting a lil too friendly with you, he'll come right up and sling his arm around you, kiss your temple, and just join right into the conversation

if the guy stops talking (cause Suguru is fucking intimidating with how calm and collected he carries himself) then he's very quick to fill the silence

"Oh, don't stop on my account. You were saying? Something about how nice my baby looks, right? Go on, continue, aren't they stunning?"

all the while he's got this mf look in his eyes, his smug ass grin, he doesn't even have to say anything to get the message across

"Bet you wish you were me, huh?"

ngl there's also a quiet implied threat, like he's daring the guy to actually speak up

alternatively he will give you a look

I'm thinkin one eyebrow slightly raised, unamused expression

this mostly happens if you're the one trying to make him jealous

all in all this look of his towards you has a very clear message of "Get over here now or you will regret it"

yes sir 🛐

Kento Nanami:

another 0/10

not the jealous type, he trusts you completely and he's pretty confident in himself

he's very good at communication, and he's willing to do anything to make things work, so he's not worried about anyone stealing you away from him

the only time I can really see him stepping in is if someone's flirting with you and you're clearly uncomfortable and the guy isn't letting up

it's then that your big strong prince charming will swoop in and put his arm around you, or just kinda step in front of you and firmly tell the guy that you are taken

Nanami can be a pretty intimidating guy when he wants to be, so it's very likely that the guy will back off

if not? well, Nanami knows how to fight, and he isn't afraid to get his hands dirty if it means saving you from some creep <3

oh-ho, but if you try to make him jealous? giggling, maybe throwing in some light touches to the guy's bicep or somethin?

he knows what you're doing. ha.. haha.... oh honey, you ain't walkin' tomorrow :)

Toji Fushiguro:

hehe

10/10, possibly an 11/10

like I said, my man's a double whammy, he's jealous AND possessive

he trusts you to the best of his abilities, but it's very very hard for him, ya know?

everyone who was supposed to love him growing up only ever hurt him, then the one person who he loved, who taught him how to love and to be loved, fucking died

so, he's scared, trusting somebody scares the hell out of him, but he does trust you as much as he can let himself (it'll get better as time goes on, but ya know, it's just gonna take a bit)

basically what I'm getting at here, he's still not totally certain that you're gonna stick around (and quite honestly, he doesn't know why you do in the first place)

he is also MAD possessive tho, you are his and he does not intend on sharing <3

if he sees another man so much as look at you twice then he's pulling you closer, wrapping his arm around you, kissing you, throwin' out lil "Hey there, doll" and stuff like that

if you happen to be away from him (say he went to the bathroom or something) and comes back to see some guy with you, if you look even mildly uncomfortable, or if he can see you trying to get the dude to leave you alone, and he won't.......

hehe, that dude is gonna be napping for a bit! ......on the ground! ...........in the middle of the bar! ......he might wanna invest in some concealer for the black eye tho :')

he's scared you're gonna leave, but make no mistake, nobody is fuckin' takin' you from him without a mf fight

no matter the circumstance, a jealous Toji is a very good assurance that you uh.. yeah.. yeah I think you get where I'm goin' with this

he is not afraid to leave visible marks on that pretty neck of yours <3

ngl my knife k!nk is gonna scare people away here so I'm just gonna keep that on inside! use your imagination!! :)

Naoya Zenin:

8/10

he's honestly a pretty insecure guy who tries to act overly confident to mask it cause his clan taught him that any signs of weakness will make him unworthy

his family is just so damn strict with him, always has been, always making him feel like if he makes one slight wrong move then he's just a total fuck up

that translates to his relationship with you, he's terrified of making a mistake, he's constantly overthinking things and feels like he's screwing things up with you all the time

he just never feels like he's "good enough"

that being said, if someone's gonna try and steal you from him, they're in for a fuckin' fight

much like Toji, he may be insecure, but he loves you too much to let anybody take you away from him <3

if someone's flirting with you - hell, if some guy so much as looks at you wrong - he's grabbing you and kissing you

not a peck, no, he'll kiss you like it's the last thing he's ever gonna do

he's gonna leave you breathless and EVERYONE is gonna know that you're his <3

Choso Kamo:

1/10

I was gonna give him a 0/10, but I started thinking more about this

he's not quite a cocky man, but he is very sure of himself and confident

and for him to love you means that he trusts you completely

but he knows that he's kinda.. not really up to date on a lot of things

he wonders a lot why you'd rather be with him than someone who can relate more to you and understand your little references

(help, now I'm just picturing Choso as fucking Steve Rodgers, after you start introducing him to more media he'll just start fucking going "I understood that reference!!" and be so proud of himself)

ANYWAYS

like I said tho, he isn't much a jealous guy, but he is cautious, so he'll step in if he sees you talking to a guy he doesn't know

either just stands by you lookin' all intimidating, or he'll wrap his arms around you

he won't say anything to the guy, I think he'd just kinda stand there (menacingly), givin' the guy a look

if he does recognize the guy then he's a lot more chill about it, unless the guy happens to be a known slut like Gojo or Geto

even then, he knows they won't try anything if he's by you, so he'll just be a lil extra clingy <3

Ryomen Sukuna:

0/10 for jealousy, 1000/10 for possessiveness

ain't NOBODY touching you <3

some guy dares to flirt with you? haha, hey buddy, how's hell treatin' ya?

if he's in a good mood then murder can be avoided, but the guy will prooobably be scared shitless when faced with a big scary Sukuna giving him a death-glare

big scary guard dog <3

he also doesn't ever leave your side because of his possessiveness, like he is always right there, always holding onto you in some way or another

you are his and he will not fucking share <3

no one shall even have the slightest chance <3

oh, but I mean, obviously if he gets even mildly riled up, he's obviously gonna have to "remind you" that you're his, and his alone :) <3

[ykiwrite]

the watcher

description: the halloween party could have turned out way worse for tara if it wasn't for you and chad

warnings: alcohol, angst idk to write but good ending tho

words: +1.4k

requested: no i was bored

The alcohol that was running low even on reserves was not doing it anymore for you. Given how many people are at this party, it's not a surprise it went missing so fast.

You sank further into the couch shared with a famous pair, talk of the night. Mindy and Anika who were currently, if you caught it right, talking about already moving out together. They were half drunk so it didn't count but still, drunk words sober thoughts.

You are in no place to judge nor put stereotypes on considering you and Tara are not any different. Both drunk and sober and together. The only contrast was Tara hanging somewhere other than next to you ever since her friend pulled her away.

But that was not the main thing playing in your mind. Not at all really. You have been observing this guy who looked particularly out of place at this party, in this crowd he didn't fit so well like the rest.

Could care less if it wasn't for him desperately trying to achieve something by dancing with every girl there to the point it became scary to watch.

By the looks on the girls' faces, he wasn't that much of a womanizer and prince charmer either. Or just a piece of bad luck on this day for him.

Maybe you're the one looking at it wrong. So riveted with Tara as your ride or die, although you held back from saying it because of the killer-roaming-around situation. Also from Mindy putting you on the suspect list on her weekly "guess the killer" game every time you hang out as a group.

No matter how hard you tried to stray away from judging him by looks you could not help it. He did appear like a piece of work for sure.

A piece of work that was raiding the table covered with empty bottles, knocking some of them in the process. He wasn't anchored on his feet any better either. Just like those bottles.

As he ran his hand through his hair in annoyance, both of your attention was swept away by this certain pirate costume you were assured was half homemade by you and Tara. Your attention was more of a true and fond one than his was.

She seemed to have the same thing in mind which was to grab more drinks but with failure. Her choppy and uncoordinated moves gave it away, she was drunk which made you wary of him.

Mindy's voice half yelling incredibly close to your ear finally tore your eyes off of them.

"You're looking at that guy right?" she randomly said while pointing out. Not hearing what it clearly you leaned in closer signaling her to repeat.

Mindy pointed once again in the same direction that's been a thorn in your side more and more. "Yeah, i heard he's like pretty shitty. Keep an eye out for your girl."

"Wait, you really telling me-" you didn't want it to fly by but Mindy was not listening. Being pulled away by Anika meant there was no room to chase after it.

The fear that kicked in the moment Tara didn't land on your retreating gaze was enough for you to leave the couch and rely on your surprisingly soberish state that probably wore off because of it.

It was no point in searching for Tara as nearly everyone towered over her. While you drove through the sweaty crowd that was all upon eachother, he was the one you were looking for.

To your fault, you did spill a few precious drinks that are currently out of stock in a rush of it all. It earned you a few foes that will forget about it the next hangover day. Hopefully.

Like it was ordered beforehand, the crowd somehow did not seal off the way upstairs where you caught Tara hand in hand with him. The hold itself was more one-sided meanwhile she was being hesitant.

"Tara, we're leaving," you stated loud enough for him to hear. She turned around and looked over the moon to see you. Slipping her hand out of his only to wrap it around you, she mumbled, "Where were youuu?" Dragging the liquored words for too long.

"I don't know what you're on about but come on Tara, let's go." He was making his way down but you stopped him in his place. His obscene gaze lowered to the hand of yours on his chest.

"Yeah, we're going home man. Good luck with that," you laughed foully and fakely while leading Tara away under your hold. Leaving him and his obvious anger issues to fix on their own.

"Hey, come back here you fuc-" and he was silenced all of the sudden.

As you turned the corner, you briskly glanced one last time to witness Chad doing what he knows best before the view was obscured with people again. Besides from him trying and never ending up with Tara in the end, being a bodyguard and lifesaver at the parties was one of them.

Chad was finally useful or something other than wooing Tara. If not her, then someone right now at the party surely will fall for it sooner or later.

The atypical silence New Yorks streets presented this night compared to the party should be heavenly but it's not in none of your minds.

"Are you fucking kidding me Tara?" and if it wasn't for your voice fed with anger, it was your hand ripping out of hers that almost sobered her up in an instant.

Partially aware of what you're so upset about, Tara still pushed it while following behind, "What? What did i do?"

Everything so far seemed innocent in nature from her perspective.

"What did you do? Tara he- do you know how bad this could turn out if i didn't see you two? The things he had on his mind? And with Ghostface around? Tara..."

You finally looked her in the eyes. Tara felt as if the entirety of the drinks she consumed were burning off. She was so used to Sam's overprotectiveness and mistrust that grew higher over the years but you? That keeps her harbored ever since the killings? There's a reason why she turns a deaf ear everytime Sam mentions how therapist would do justice in her life because you do more than enough. The reality you picked, knowing you'll be associated with someone whose entire family is haunted by blood but still love her no less was telling Tara plenty.

She tried to get close if only you didn't flinch back, "What did he even want?"

"He said he got drinks upstairs so i followed him." No reaction coming from you, she knew what you were thinking, "That's all of it, i swear."

"Is it?"

"Yes, i was drunk and i maybe-"

"You weren't that drunk Tara. We were both normal before you left my side for fifteen minutes when everything went down. You knew it."

None of you moved. She could sense how disappointed were you and before allowing you to go anything beyond that emotion, she ran to you. So fast, cutting all chances of your figure stepping back away.

But you caught her. Made her feel safe like you usually do while she can't say the same for herself.

"I'm so sorry," the quivering hands cupped your terrified face, "i promise." She wanted to say more but it dissolved quickly. Putting aside the dark valley of the building your back was suddenly facing, Tara kissed you roughly, desperately. Both due to height difference and the realization of how dangerous things could have turned out.

"Don't do any promises Carpenter," drawing her in once again, "i'm just glad you're safe and Sam is not around to give me a lesson."

The taxi passing behind stirred a thought, "Yeah? Well, she's not back home either until morning. I say we call a cab-"

"Okay, i was about to ask if Tara's good but i see you're both doing great." The voice itself made you look away in a hassle and Tara could read it so well.

"Yeah Chad, we were about to call cab for a ride home but you got keys on yourself?" which made you grin in not the most righteous manner.

"I do actually," as he fiddled with his pocket he continued, "need me to ride?"

"No, we can manage, thanks."

As Tara caught the thrown keys and already turning to leave, you wrapped her arms around and whispered, "We're not really gonna drive all the way?"

"Of course not. Who do you take me as?"

There was sort of pity felt for Chad, left out in the cold like a stray cat but she will remind herself to thank him the next day.

notes: it was a scene with me and tara but they decided to delete it for some reason idk why, apparently chad seemed better option than me