#toilet stalls are way smaller

[samsqueerpolycule]

So you’re an American who watched Emily in Paris and now you have a little voice in your ear saying that it might be cool to move to Europe. Heed my warning! Do not listen to him! That little voice is the devil and he wants to ruin your life. Trust me. Trust me look me in the eyes do NOT move to Europe. It is not the fun quirky adventure you think it is. Do not do it! Don’t make the same mistakes I have

[mxstellatayte]

Would a one shot abt Charles and the vibrator panties be a possibility. Asking for a friend😸

it most certainly would, dear nonnie!

hope you enjoy :)

nsfw below the cut <3 minors please do not interact!

warnings: she/her pronouns used for reader, exhibitionism, boring white men yapping on a catastrophic level, dom!charles, sub!reader, vibrator use!, oral (f receiving), charles leclerc eats pussy for his own pleasure argue with the wall, charles leclerc speaking french MMMM, EXHIBITIONISM, carlos makes a cameo

you’ve been walking around the ferrari event all night and you can’t think of any place you want to be less than this blasted gala. it’s a marketing event, so you have to maintain a certain level of composure throughout the evening, but it’s difficult when charles’ eyes meet yours across the hall and his right hand is in his pocket, fingers dancing just over the button to the remote that’s connected to the vibrator nestled in your cunt. the anxiety of him potentially pressing the button all night is almost worse than when he actually does. your fingers tightly grip the cocktail glass in your hand, sipping the drink in an attempt to soothe your nerves. the smooth burn of the expensive whiskey does nothing to calm the boiling feeling in your core, and you nearly jump when you feel his left arm wrap around your waist. 

“good evening, mr. leclerc,” the executive of some social media marketing company says. you haven’t been paying attention to the conversation for the past twenty minutes, the slickness in your core overpowering your will to pay attention to the conversation at hand.

“good evening. i see you’ve been speaking to my partner, haven’t you? i hope you haven’t been boring her too much.” he says it so smoothly, so carelessly, that it makes you want to scream. how dare he have fun when you’re feeling such sexual torture. 

“if i have, she’s been hiding it quite well,” the executive responds. “i was just explaining to her our ideal plan for working with scuderia ferrari in terms of social media marketing. she had some incredible ideas for potential campaigns if our deal goes through.”

“yes, that sounds like her,” and you nearly spill your drink on yourself when the vibrator inside of you turns on, a quiet yelp pulling its way from your throat. “oh, no, love, are you okay?”

“yes, i’m okay, thank you. if you’ll excuse me a moment, gentlemen.” your drink finds its way into charles’ hand and you try your best to walk in a straight line and keep your legs from quivering. charles does his best at putting on a façade of pure ignorance and confusion as he excuses himself from the conversation as well, utilizing the excuse of unusual behavior on your part to easily leave the conversation. 

you barge through the heavy door to the bathroom and barely have the sense to check the smaller stall that contains the toilet before leaning against the cool tile wall and exhaling a heavy breath, cupping a hand over your cunt in an attempt to relieve the pressure building. After taking a few breaths, you jump when the door opens, but you’re glad to see charles’ face when the door opens. you nearly crumble when his hand retreats from his pocket and only increases the pressure of the vibrations, but his strong arms catch you, your hands scrabbling at the expensive fabric of his suit. “charles, please.”

“please what, mon cher?” you pout, moaning when the intensity is increased again.

“please, just fuck me. feels so good, just need you. need you inside of me.”

“there you go, beautiful. i knew you could ask nicely.” charles’s voice is smoother than honey to your ears, and when he helps you back up against the wall and pushes your legs around his shoulders, his knees gently hitting the floor, you feel yourself get impossibly wetter. 

“charles, please. just-” your pleas are silenced when he runs his fingers along your panty-covered slit, a keening breath making you throw your head back. 

“so wet for me, cherie. have you been like this all night?” his eyes flick up to your face and you can't help the whimper that crawls its way out of your throat. 

“yes, all night. now, please, just let me cum.”

“such pretty words. i really should, huh?” with this, he pulls your soaked panties down your legs and slips them off your ankles and stuffs them into his pocket. as gently as he can, he pulls the vibe out of you and cleans it off with one of the soft white towels rolled into cylinders on the countertop next to him. “hold this for me?” he offers you the toy wrapped in the towel, which you accept with shaking hands. as soon as the toy is in your hands, he dives into your heat, his tongue expertly navigating you like the back of his hand. you immediately fight the moan that almost wrenches its way from your throat, but despite your best efforts, a whine escapes. 

“fuck, feels so good, baby, please, don’t stop,” you moan, suddenly not caring about your noise level or the fact that several of ferrari’s sponsors for the upcoming racing season are just outside the bathroom door. despite your lack of mind for your reputation, charles pulls away, making you whine at the loss of contact, but his mouth is quickly replaced by his fingers gently pressing at your entrance, coating them with as much of your slick as he can before pressing them into you. the sudden intrusion makes your back arch and a gasp fill your lungs, but charles quickly tuts at you. 

“gotta stay quiet for me, baby. don’t want everybody out there hearing how good i’m making you feel.” when your walls flutter around him, a movement so miniscule it could be passed off as his imagination, the corners of his lips quirk up into a smirk. “or,” he continues, pressing a delicate kiss to your clit, to which your hand not holding your vibrator to card through his hair and pull, “is that exactly what you want? for every single person outside that door to know who’s making you scream in the bathroom of a black tie event? for them to know that i’m the only person who can make you feel like this? make you sound like this?”

“i’ll stay quiet, baby, now please-” you cut yourself off with another whine because charles has leaned forward again, captured your clit between his lips, and sucks. “oh, fuck, charles. please, please don’t stop. feels so good.” you’re embarrassingly close to cumming from the short time he’s been eating you out and fucking his fingers into you, but you could care less. after being on the edge all night, you whine as you tighten and your back arches off of the wall, your right leg still propped up on charles’ shoulder. “charles, ‘m close. ‘m so close.” your fingers tighten in his hair, the pain on his scalp making him moan into your cunt, and the vibrations from his voice are the last thing you need before you’re sent over the edge, clapping a hand over your own mouth to stop your breathy moans from echoing too loudly off of the tile walls of the bathroom. he continues eating you out through your orgasm, and you almost have to push him off before he’s satisfied. “holy…”

“fuck,” he finishes, making you laugh. when you look down, charles looks absolutely wrecked. his hair is a mess from where your fingers ran through it, his eyes are droopy, pupils wide with lust, and his face from his nose down is covered in a mixture of your cum and his saliva. you almost take out your phone to take a photo of him, but you’re snapped out of your afterglow when someone pounds at the door. 

your stomach drops, and charles blanches. you mouth a silent “fuck” to him, but somehow relief fills your body when you hear a familiar voice on the other side of the door. “oi, cabrón, open the door. it’s time you make even on that bet.”

HEEEEHEHEHEHE this one was so fun to write! let me know if i should do a part two!

[trying-harder-then-u]

Philip wasn't used to all the stares he was getting from his workers; for god's sake, he was the CEO, and they should be paying respect to him, but instead all the builders to whom he paid the salary just stared in confusion and pity at the tall man in his suit guiding the investors around the construction site.

His black suit, thin build, and clean-shaven appearance drew a harsh contrast to the men that watched. The bored faces of the investors showed that they were just as interested in this as he was, so it was a respite when he managed to excuse himself to go to the bathroom.

Stumbling along, dirt and dust caking his boots, he finally ran into the manager of the property, a bulky man with a short fuse. "Where is the bathroom?" he inquired, only greeted by a judging glance as he stared down. "It's employee only; the public bathroom is a block away." Philip was shocked by the never-ending argument, but he made a mental note to find some recourse for the attitude. He picked his way through the clogged city blocks, finally coming to the public bathrooms.

As he walked into the graffiti-covered stall, he felt his disgust build as he saw a strange liquid covering not just the floor but the bathrooms and walls as well. and judging from the smell, he could tell where this liquid came from. Knowing that he didn't have time to waste, he quickly rolled up toilet paper and wiped down the seat of the toilet. After a few seconds, he went to chuck it when he stepped into a large puddle of cum, glaring at the gunk stuck on his heel. Using the wall to support him as he tried to scrape it off, he only managed to get it on his clothes before finally feeling more drip from the roof on top of his bald head.

Now thoroughly disgusted, he went to leave but found he couldn't; he seemed to be...

rooted to the spot? Phillip's whole body began to shiver as his eyes moved rapidly in his sockets. The shivering began to localize on his legs as a cracking sound filled the air. Did the door seem to grow bigger and bigger, or was he getting smaller? He remembered from the view that his height had gone from 6 feet 3 to 5 feet 6. His mind kept screaming as his body tingled, his thin arms tingled, and he began to thicken along with his legs, a small gut growing out.

His pale skin soon would change too as his skin darkened and tanned, matching that of his many workers. changed rapidly now, his once clean, shaven body growing hair all over and his slightly below-average "tool" shrinking a few inches. Finally able to leave, he felt his head fuzz as if his thoughts were being yelled at him through glass, but he did begin to panic when he didn't return to his investors but rather to the man. "Where have you been?" Phillip thought he was yelling; he couldn't hear anything, though. Looking down, his clothes also changed to a plain tee and some shorts; he truly looked just like a worker now.

The next 5 hours, his body went on autopilot, working harder than his old body ever had, but when the work day finally ended, he kept walking to a house he had never seen, climbing stairs after stairs before finally coming to a door that reeked of cum and sweat. Opening in, he saw a young Latino man, no pants, and busy playing some kind of video game. He somehow knew that this was the man whose cum had covered the bathroom that had caused all this.

glancing over the man—his boyfriend? No, that can't be. He was married, and his thoughts were getting harder. Mmm, Phillipe could see the bulge in the other man's underwear, and the other man obviously could see Phillipe's eyes. "Why don't you come help Daddy out, baby?" excitedly he moved forward and began stripping his BF. "That's it, ik you liked the stuff you found in the bathroom you slut, come get some from the source" as he greedily sucked away his memories. Natural, his Spanish accent? attractive to the ladies, not like he needs it with his boyfriend around. His memories shifted fully, and Philip was gone. He was Philip, a Mexican immigrant working hard so his hot boyfriend could play games. His life was difficult with working and then doing all the chores, but at least he got some good dick. and not a person would miss who he was...

[marlynnofmany]

Kittens in Space

The first rule of keeping cats aboard a spaceship is don’t lose the cats on the spaceship. I know this. I know it better than the rest of the crew! I’m the Earthling here, the animal expert with actual veterinarian training, and I’m the one who brought them onboard. I told the captain with confidence that I could keep track of them.

Well, guess what I just did.

The problem was immediately obvious when I woke up. Every morning for the last few days had started with cutesy kitten pounces and thumps as they batted toys about the room. Sometimes I’d get a tail in my face; other times I’d hear a crash as they discovered how to reach another yet high shelf. Not once had I woken to silence.

Today I did. And as soon as I realized it, I sat up with a jerk to scan the room, my heartbeat loud in my ears.

Catnip mice and foam balls were everywhere. My shoes were still on the coat hooks; they hadn’t managed to knock them down yet. Nothing was swatted off the shelves. And no kittens lay on the floor dead after eating alien food, so at least there was that. But where were they?

I moved my feet toward the floor, disturbing a lump that meowed sleepily. Tapestry the mom cat was curled up on my bed; I hadn’t seen her. And now that I wasn’t jostling the blankets anymore, she curled back up for some hard-earned rest.

But no kittens. I stroked her tabby fur and looked for smaller balls of fluff, but found none. She didn’t seem worried. Hopefully that was a good sign. I stood and hurried to the bathroom.

My quarters were small, basically just the two rooms, since I spent most of my time with the rest of the crew. There really shouldn’t have been any good hiding spots that I hadn’t already blocked off. The bed didn’t even have space underneath it; that’s where my clothes drawers were. And I’d made sure the little fluffbrains couldn’t open those on their own, much less close them again.

They weren’t in the bathroom. Not in the closed-lid toilet, or the space-age shower stall, or the cabinet of supplies. Not in the trash can (again). They hadn’t gotten closed up in the foldable sink; I always left it sticking out of the wall. Where were they?

They couldn’t have gotten out into the hallway. No. Just not possible. I would have heard if someone inexplicably opened the door to my quarters without knocking, not that anyone would. Especially while I was asleep.

I told myself that there was no way they could be wandering the ship and getting stuck in the engine room. Mimi would notice animals hiding among his engine parts. Heck, the entire ship was bound to have someone around, ready to spot the furry little troublemakers, no matter how stealthy they were. I was pretty sure they resembled food on at least one homeworld. My crewmates weren’t the sort to hurt them, though; everyone knew full well that I had them here. The kittens wouldn’t be mistaken for pests.

Hopefully.

I really don’t want to announce to everyone that I’ve lost them, I thought, leaving the bathroom. They’ve got to be in here somewhere. What am I missing?

I surveyed the toy-covered room, trying for the umpteenth time to see catproofing opportunities that I hadn’t addressed.

Bed, bookshelf, other shelves. Bedside table with the lamp bolted down. Desk and chair. The litterbox was in the bathroom, with the food and water dishes along the wall beside me. There were no curtains to climb, and hardly any decorations, just the digital window with its chunky gold frame — someone’s secondhand idea of class — and the fake plants on the shelves. The bite marks on those weren’t new.

But the positioning was.  

I stepped closer, staring and second-guessing, and yes they were definitely pushed out of place. And now that I thought about it, the digital frame was slightly crooked too. That spectacular alien sunset with the planetary rings in the background was out of alignment with the corner of the room.

Like someone stepped on it. Now where would they—

I froze in place, feeling stupid. Ah. Right.

Ever look at something so often that you stop noticing it? I may have mentioned that this was a spaceship. Metal walls, plasticky floors, no real windows.

A ceiling covered in twisty pipes.

I hadn’t considered catproofing the ceiling; it was too high to reach (ha), and surely not the kind of place that kittens would hide.

But as I stepped onto the bed and brought my face up close to the lowest curve, I realized that the faint engine sounds I’d long gotten used to sounded an awful lot like purring.

There they were. All five of the fuzzy little bastards were snuggled into a happy pile among the pipes without a care in the world. They meeped sleepily when I stuck a hand in.

“I can’t believe you,” I murmured. They ignored me.

The air was warm but not hot, and the pipes were vibrating faintly. While Captain Sunlight had assured me that there was no radiation to worry about, I figured it couldn’t hurt to double-check. Sleeping on top of the things could easily be a different prospect from sleeping in a bed below.

“All right, down for now,” I told them, scooping up the kittens despite their protests and setting them on the bed. “Be good little fluffbrains and sleep here while I — no? No, of course not.” They were already tumbling to the floor with strident mews for food. Tapestry stretched and jumped down as well.

I sighed and got out the cat food. If I was quick about it, I could get out the door before they tried to follow me. That net I’d tried to rig up as a baby gate hadn’t stopped them crawling under.

“Good kitties,” I said, tugging my shoes on as they ate. “You behave yourselves. I’m just going to make sure your favorite new hiding place isn’t going to give you extra eyeballs or something. Maybe I’ll set up a new shelf there so you don’t fall on my face during the night.”

I slipped out the door just as the first kitten finished eating — appropriately enough, it was the gray shorthair who Mimi had insisted I name after him. There weren’t any green cats in the litter, so gray was close enough.

“Meeeeee,” declared Mimi-the-kitten as the door closed.

“Yup,” I agreed.

Once I was sure the latch wasn’t about to pop loose, I took long strides toward the engine room. My heartbeat was totally calm and normal; why do you ask?

~~~

The ongoing backstory of the main character from this book. More to come!

[ayyy-imma-ninja]

Lily- a DCA!Serial Killer AU drabble

CW: vomiting, mention of drug use

" 'Boy,' she said courteously, 'why are you crying?' "

Sun read aloud to the collection of children at the day's reading circle, his voice module shifting to a higher, feminine pitch to match the character Wendy when speaking her lines. Today's book was 'Peter and Wendy' by J.M. Barrie. Some of the children gathered around him giggled, finding it as silly as when he was pretending to cry as Peter Pan just seconds earlier. A smile of his own was etched on the sun animatronic's face plate, it always elated him to hear the children laugh.

" 'Peter could be exceedingly polite also, having learned the grand manner at fairy ceremonies, and he-' "

"M-Mr. Sun…?"

A small voice croaked his name, and a smaller hand rose in his peripherals. He knew the voice, and his eyes fell on one particular child. His jovial smile became one of concern. The child didn't look very well.

"Lily, are you alright?"

The child, Lily, looked up at Sun with watery eyes slightly obscured by her glasses. She was shaking, appeared rather pale, and a hand was gripping at her shirt over her stomach. It was a familiar sight to Sun. As well as the children, as some had warily begun scooting away from her.

"I…h-have to go…"

Sun knew what that meant and he nodded. Tucking a bookmark in between the pages, he sat the book in his chair and carefully scooped Lily into his arms. "The reading circle will continue in just a moment, Sunbeams! We will be back very soon! Gavin, please make sure the little ones behave," he instructed one of the older kids as he was already on his way to the library's bathroom, hurrying inside.

He knelt with her in front of one of the stalls, removing her glasses and tucking them over the collar of his sweater, then he brushed back her black hair for him to hold. With his other hand, he rubbed Lily's back as she began to cough and retch into the toilet. He gave her a sympathetic look.

"There there, Sunbeam. Get it all out," he gently instructed the poor girl. He had done this a few times with her in the past. The poor thing was prone to sickness due to a heightened sense of anxiety, least that's what Lily's mother told him over the phone the first time it happened. Fortunately, Sun was unbothered by such predicaments. He was used to dealing with ill children.

When Lily had finished, he moved to the wall and let her sit in his lap. He returned her glasses to her, then reached into his pocket and gave her an apple juice box he grabbed before coming here. She sipped it while he continued rubbing her back. "Are you starting to feel better, Lily?" he asked, soft enough that his voice didn't echo.

Lily rubbed at her eyes and nodded with a sniffle, but that didn't stop her from crying. When asked what was the matter, she hiccupped, "I-I feel bad, f-for making you always stop story time…! I-I don't mean to…I'm sorry, M-Mr. Sun…!"

"Aww, Sunbeam…" Sun pulled her into another gentle hug, a hand going in circles on her back. "There is nothing for you to be sorry for. I am not at all upset, sweetie. Only worried. I know you can't help this. Just take a breath. Everything's alright." Sun held Lily close as she buried her face into his sweater, shaking a little less. The small girl sniffled, letting out a shaky breath. She adjusted her head in an odd manner, almost like she was…nuzzling him. He continued rubbing her back as the smallest sob escaped her.

"…I wish you were my mom…"

His hand froze in place.

Sun went completely still. His smile fell entirely, his eyes trained on nothing. It was barely a whisper, but he heard it. He heard it. In that moment, he looked back. Every time he saw Lily and her mother together. She ran when dropped off, and walked when being picked up. She never willingly held her mother's hand. The rare times Lily would glance back at him. The look on her face…

"What was that, Sunbeam?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

Lily flinched a little in his arms, keeping her face buried. She let go of him, rubbing at her face. "N-Nothing," she answered meekly.

"Oh, alright then." He forced down his building anger. 'Later', he told himself, and he stood up, placing Lily on the ground. "Now, how are you feeling? Are you ready to go back to the circle?" Thinking for a moment, Lily eventually gave him a shy nod. He smiled warmly. "Wonderful! Let's hurry off to Neverland, shall we?" He lightly booped her on the nose, glad to see it warrant him a giggle out of her.

Holding her hand, he walked out of the bathroom towards the reading circle. Though outwardly cheery as he greeted the little ones and resumed reading, that sting still lingered at the base of his chest. Silently, he sent a message.

"Moon."

"Yeah."

"Jackie Langman."

"Lily's mother?"

"…"

"…I'll look into her."

"Thank you."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Moon sat on the edge of the pier, his legs crossed. The tide was high, and he didn't want his uniform getting wet. He stared out at the empty, moonlit horizon of the bay. No boats were out at this hour, everyone had already docked in for the day. It was a quiet place, free of prying eyes and cameras. No motor engines disturbed the night's peace, leaving only the sound of the wind and the waves…

And the approaching footsteps behind him.

Moon didn't need to turn around to know who was walking down the pier. Before long, Sun joined him in sitting, placing himself at Moon's left. Seeing the high-rising water, he crossed his legs, too. Sun hung his head low, heterochromatic eyes shining back at him in his reflection as his hands rested on the pier's edge.

"…What did you find?" he asked.

Moon glanced at Sun briefly from the corner of his eyes. He could sense something looming in his twin's tone. He looked back out to the horizon with a sigh. Right. Cut to the chase, then.

"Jackie Langman. Single mother, divorced her husband--Lily's father--when Lily was only 3. Began shooting narcotics around that time. Reports from neighbors claim to have heard shouting from inside their home and things being broken. Police could never find anything. Jackie claims to have gone to rehab for her drug use, but there are no records indicating she ever went."

Moon heard the sound of wood creaking on his left and glanced to Sun, whose shoulders were tense. His hands gripped the wood, causing it to begin splintering. His rays rattled like a snake's tail. Moon let out another small sigh. "Sun-"

"Why didn't I see it sooner…?" Sun interrupted. His brows were tightly knit, teeth gritted together. His colored pupils had shrunken a little. "Three months…Lily's been part of the reading circle for three months. They were there…The signs were all there, and I didn't see it."

"Sun, you can't burden this on yourself," Moon told him calmly.

"Do you know what she said to me earlier?" Sun continued, like Moon hadn't said anything. "In the bathroom, as I held her. She told me, 'I wish you were my mom'." Moon's eyes widened slightly, hearing this. Sun smiled, but it was full of bitterness and self-disgust. "That was when I realized. Only then did I…" An inhale rattled in his chest, clearly fighting to keep himself composed. “I hate that I had to pretend to not hear what she said…”

Moon remained silent for a moment, allowing Sun the chance to collect himself. "Sun. As much as you hate it, we can’t let anything rouse suspicion. Especially from the kids. But don’t worry. What matters is that we know, now. And we can do something about it. I've already looked at potential guardians. Her dad is just as crooked as Jackie, so he's a no-go. Lily has an aunt up in Milwaukee; she seems pretty clean, and it looks like she's tried to fight for custody over Lily in the past."

"We need to act now." Moon blinked, confused by Sun's sudden declaration. "Whatever we do, we need to do it now."

"Sun, hold your horses. We still need to find a way of getting to Jackie, and make sure Lily is out of the way," Moon explained. "I understand your anger, but we can't jump into this-"

"And why not?!" Sun's voice cracked as it rose. The wood under his hand cracked as well, his face plate twisted with rage, as well as fear, colored pupils now rattling pinpricks. "We can't sit and plan and wait too long about this, Moon! We just can't! We need to act now, before it's t-too late…!" His voice wavered, and his eyes flickered before squeezing shut. Sun's breath shuddered as he tried to control it, like he was fighting to keep himself from crying. "I-It can't happen again…"

Moon waited once again, giving Sun a needed moment. Then he reached and placed a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "Sun. Look at me." He instructed softly. Sun did so, his optics shining. Moon gave him a gentle, but firm look. "It won't be like how it was with her. We won't let that happen. I promise you."

Slowly, Sun managed to calm himself down. He took a breath and thumbed away the oil tears in his eyes. Once composed, he gave Moon a faint smile. "Thank you, brother…"

Moon returned that smile to Sun, lightly patting him on the back. Then he stood up, stretched his arms over his head, and offered a hand to Sun. "Shall we get to work?"

The other animatronic accepted the hand and was pulled to his feet. Sun gave a firm nod, walking with Moon back down the pier. "Let's do it." He would save Lily, no matter what it took.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

:3c

@moonlit-dreamers

[peppermint-monster]

Itachi Uchiha X Hussy. Chubby Reader!

Warnings: Slight Yandere!Itachi, Stalking-ish (Watching her every move by his crow), Blackmail-ish, Manipulation…?, Unprotected sex, Dirty Talk, DDLG, Strangers to Lovers….?, Blowjob, Protected Anal sex, Praise kink…?, Caught-ish, Public Display, Confession...?, Possessive!Itachi (Just can’t handle seeing his boo with someone else), Size kink...?. Basically, NSFW. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Also be mindful that I didn’t really mention much of the reader’s appearance (Besides she’s female) since I wanted to keep it vague for everyone to relate as much as possible, though it is definitely for the more voluptuous side of ladies. 😊

Please be mindful that all photos are not mine, but the making of the collage is.

MINORS DNI!!!! 🔞🙅🏻‍♀️ If you’re not comfortable with this, please ignore!

Itachi Uchiha x Hussy. Chubby Reader! How she happened to stumble across the strange man one night while engaging in a late-night activity. Calmly waited in an empty cubicle while checking herself in a little pocket mirror, with a lack of a bra, she wore a size smaller crop top tee, low waist booty shorts that did little to conceal her pudge's tummy and obviously fat fupa, and thigh-high socks with the sexiest high heels that highlighted her legs. Personally, she looks hot.

When she hears knocking, she smirks, smugly licking her lips.

"Right on time," She murmurs, making her way to the locked door and opening it to grab the strange man's sweatshirt, yanking him inside and pinning him to it. Now, the dude was an average person in his early twenties who appeared to be a boring guy.

"You know the rules," She said, slowly backing away and promoting the hem of her shirt in a teasing manner. "Anal only."

Before fully lifting up her shirt til her breast slips out. 

Quickly they lock lips with each other, tongues wrapping around one another while caressing his cheek.

“Ahn~!” She moans, drawing away when feeling her sensitive nipples being pinched. In a split second, she wrapped her arms around him, her shorts around her knees as he rested his hand on her chubby hips.  

“Mmm… Fuck, my ass is aching for your dick.” She pants out, drawing a hand behind her and to her ass where she stuffs two of her fingers inside, prepping herself. She continues to kiss the man, slowly pulling him close to her wanting him.

Sitting on the toilet seat legs wide, ass and pussy on full display with no pants on, she seductively taunts the guy, “Alright cutie, shove that thing in me~”

Prompting him by using her hands to spread herself wider to see her gaping hole. 

“Mmm… Show mommy how big you are~” Licking her lips at the sight of the tent in front of his pants, fantasized about how big his cock is until… “Oh… Wow…”

She was not expecting it to be so small much to her disappointment, quickly changing her demeanor as a fake smile spread on her face.

“You like that?”

“Oh yeah…” She plainly said over the guy's ear. With a neutral look on her face as he fucks her. “You’re so good...”

What was supposed to last 30 minutes ended up finishing 5 minutes after sensing he cum. Pulling out and discarding the used condom, she seductively goes and toys with her ass.

“You still got 25 minutes left. Don't you want to keep going?”

“Nah, I’ll be late for my next mission.”

“Oh okay.” She disappointingly said as he get ready before leaving.

After a few minutes of refreshing herself, she walks out of the bathroom stall and heads to the mirror to reapply her lipstick.

Well, that was boring, another day and another boring guy using her for his own sexual pleasure. Sure she likes being used and all, but she just wishes she could find someone who was more…exciting. 

Quietly wondering if what she was even doing was worth it.

“Pardon me, but what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” Suddenly sensing a shadow towering over her she quickly turns around.

Standing in front of her was a handsome-looking man with enchanting crimson eyes that almost seemed like they were glowing underneath them were long tear troughs. Having as well long jet-black hair that was pulled back in a low ponytail with long center-parted bangs. Overall he looks casual wearing a black shirt and pants and sandals with white leggings over them. Yet strangely he seemed to be wearing a black cloak with red clouding on them.

“My apologies, sir. I guess I was in a rush and went the wrong way. Silly me. Well, I should be leaving!” Trying to compose herself from being caught she cheerfully puts on a fake smile switching to her fake innocent persona before quickly grabbing her things and walking past the cloaked man.

“I see you put a front wherever you are. Always so polite and helpful to others. But then again, I doubt being so naive enough to make such a silly mistake.” She pauses for a moment, turning around to meet those eyes again, making her take a step back.

“How dare you speak to me that way!”

“You’re in the business of serving people, arent you? Giving them what they want. And I want something.” He said, ignoring what she said.

“Hey, listen to me! You don't know the first thing about me! Thinking I’m some hussy.” She screeched out, stomping her foot as she slowly lost her temper. 

Yet he remains calm.

“Oh really?” 

In a blink of an eye, he was close to her, leaning over and whispering in her ear, “You’re right. I don't know the slightest thing about you. Besides the fact that you live two different lives. One of them is helping your parents by working in your family's Dango shop, acting all sweet and innocent with a lovely smile on your face. And the other…” He pauses for a moment. “Hm. A naughty side, that would bring shame to one's clan.” She gasped, seeing the once crimson eyes with black comma patterns were now changing right in front of her eyes into a pinwheel shape. 

Suddenly she could see everything he was saying, whispering every single detailed description in her ear of what no one should know yet she could see it play out in front of her. It felt like she was in a dream, one so real she thought she was really there. 

Until finally coming back to reality, “How did you know it was me?”

"Let’s just say you stand out around here." He indicates while trapping her against the counter his hands resting on each side of her head. Watching her eyes wander to and away from his stare until eventually, with begging eyes and her hands clasped in a pleading stance, "My family - They can't know. It would ruin them, our business, and my family's name. Please, I'll do anything."

When she felt this strange man move close to her, placing his hands around her waist and down to rest on her ass, she gasped but cut herself off.

"I'm not one of those delicate chunin boys you select. I don't want a piece of the full thing, no-I want the entire thing."

She bites her lower lip as her body starts to tremble from the proximity of his body to hers, from him fondling her ass, and from his shameless statement.

“Where do you want me?” She shyly asked, clinging to his arm.

He backed away from her just enough to glimpse those innocent, doe-like eyes of hers and said, "On your knees."

Crouching down on her heels, she was met with an undeniable erection that was pushing against the fabric of his pants.

She gasped as she scooted closer, unfastened his belt, and saw the length slip effortlessly out in front of her.

So close to her face, and close enough that she could lean forward and use her lips to touch the quivering member if she wanted. And believe me, she does.

"I’m safe." When she looks up at him with lust-filled eyes, he utters it out while turning away. "I-I may not be big like the man you've slept with, but I will satisfy you." He spoke tentatively, still not looking at her surprised expression.

"W-Who hurt you?" She murmured this while stroking the thick member as she heard him sharply draw in.

Was he a moran? He had such a magnificent dick, so long and fat with him only being a foot away she could just lean forward and kiss the flush head. 

Closing her eyes, she moves in close to the length and kisses the leaking tip before trailing kisses here and there all around the girth until finally reaching the base of his cock while looking up with those innocent eyes.

She drew away and gulped down the lovely man's entire length till it reached the back of her throat and back out after keeping him in for a solid minute with saliva trickling down her chin. As her tongue aggressively travels out, lapping his balls while deepthroating him, he couldn't help but lean on the counter to steady himself. The delightful heat travels up his body every second as he attempts to relax himself.

He was a patient man by nature, but his curvy beauty always puts him to the test. While he longed to appreciate this moment, he also sought to maintain his cool so that he didn't lose control.

Yet he has no shame.

The way her eyes rolled to the back of her head when he grabbed the back of the curvy beauty's neck as she continued to sloppily deepthroat the strange man's dick while grazing the member here and there made his mouth drop open slightly. Secretly loving the roughness that added to the sensation and brought him closer to the edge.

However, as much as he would have liked to cum in the curvy beauty's mouth, he refused.

"Ahhh~" She breathed out, her eyes rolled back, and a satisfied smile spread across her face.

Taking her by the hand, he sat her down on the counter and fondled her breasts, making her gasp.

"It appears you like it when a man takes advantage of you, exploiting you in ways you could only think of. Isn't that why you're here? You don't want just any man to ruin you. No. Just that special one." He muttered huskily over her ear, his hands expertly wrapping around her plump hips and settling on her ass.

"That’s not true, that's not true at all -!" She gasped, cutting herself off from the feeling of thick fingers kneeing her cloth cunt, rubbing into her wetness before drawing back and holding it up.

"Completely turned off, huh?" He scuffs lightly.

"Be quiet." She panted weakly.

She wanted to get even with him and was about to smack him but was stopped by him catching it and pinning it above her, trapping her between him and the cool sink.

"You're in no position to make any demands." 

"And you are." She fires back.

When she noticed a little grin on his face, she gave her best bitchy face. 

"I believe so. If you'll allow me, that is." She experienced a chill when he moved in close to her ear and spoke in a gruff, naturally deep voice. When she doesn't respond, he gently lifts her chin to face him, and she swallows hard. 

"Hmmm... perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself." He said aloud as he started to pull away but was abruptly halted. He was delighted to see the curvy beauty holding onto his robe with tears welling up in her eyes.

"No! It’s alright!"

Her eyes widened from her unexpected outburst. She covered her mouth as humiliation overtook her. He chuckles, his hand failing to hide the faint smile appearing on his face, sending her heart racing. He draws her in close to his broad chest.

"Well then. Who am I to object to your wishes?" He commented, peering out from under her neck with a smug smile on his face.

Suddenly and expertly, the strange man flipped her over and had her lean against the sink counter with her shorts hanging around her buck knees, exposing her throbbing ass and sopping pussy.

"Even though you've made this unavailable to your customers, you want it, don't you?" 

"I've never felt this-," she said, trying to glance back at him in a haze. 

She abruptly cuts herself off, gasping at the startling sensation of something thick slipping in between her folds.

"Keeping this all tight for me?"

Itachi took cruel pleasure in watching her shake at the slightest brush of his dick running down along her entrance and pressed in hearing her yelp every time his tip brushed against her clit. “Do you think you're ready to take me, my pretty?”

She honestly doesn't know what's wrong with her. It’s not fair how her hands can't help but get sweaty when not even a few minutes ago she was cursing at this attractive man and now her heart is fluttering by that stupid pet name as she begs him to fuck her while trying to lift her hips so the heaving rod can just slip inside.

"Yes, sir." She eventually blurts out.

Not fair that he stands so close behind her with such a low voice grazing her ear while without warning, he thrust into her, slow and deep. Plunging full-length into her warmth and all the way down til it brushes against the entrance of her cervix.

"AHHH!" She moaned, back arched and eyes slowly rolled to the back of her head as she unknowingly was seized by the strange man's muscular chest, trapping her between the cold counter and his hot body while he slowly thrusts his hips against hers as one of his hands travels up and caresses her plump face before leaning it against the bathroom mirror. If anyone was around, they could have heard her loud, enticing shrieks, leading them to their fuck fest.

Finally pulling his upper body away, he began to move his hips faster watching the way her cunt gobbled down his dick over and over again.

‘It’s official, I’m a slut.’ She thought to herself. Believing that she hit a new level of low, allowing this attractive man to have his way with her, free of charge to keep his mouth shut. And right where any man could come in and see. She was scared to be caught yet also excited.

God, every time he slides in it felt so fucking good~ 

She cries in ecstasy from the sudden smacks her ass was receiving. Smack after smack echoes through the empty room and not too far along her whines and whimpers. Shockwaves after shockwaves of her pussy spasming around his length making the silent man grunt at the tightness as he tries to pull out.

Wrapping their hands together, he brought them up to knead her breast while he caress and toyed with her doughy side.

“Ahn!” She gasped, suddenly feeling the stinging of him giving her what no client is allowed to do. “Noooo…” Give her hickeys.

She could feel her thoughts numbing and fading into bliss as she continued to make sounds that a stupid bimbo is meant to make on her night out, which is getting her brains pounded out in a cramped public bathroom.

“-Nngh!” She lolled out, eyes slowly crossing. 

The mysterious man began to move his hips faster watching through the mirror the way her free breast swayed by the force of his thrust. She felt so good, the way he rolled his hips against hers caused her greedy cunt to leave a nice ring of cream around the base of his cock.

“Already creaming? Well, aren't you a dirty girl, huh? A slut disguised as a lady or is it the other way around?” His vein hand that was teasing her other breast slowly made its way up and around her neck in a nice firm grip tight enough for her to understand he was the one fucking her, no one else but him.

“Yes, I-I’m a dirty girl! I’m daddy’s dirty GIRL!” She suddenly screeched. The tears that glossed over her eyes slid down her cheeks, smearing her caked face.

She was a mess, her once dolled-up face was ruined with tear streaks running down her cheek, and her once glossed-up lips were now swollen and smudged from the passionate kisses they’d shared, and from sucking this beautiful man off, she must look like a mess to this man. If only she knew how pretty she looked in his eyes.

Until unexpectedly, the strange man pulls out and turns her plump body around, setting her down on the counter with her lower half hanging off, setting one of her legs over his shoulder and spreading the other as far as it could go to get better access.

"Mhm!" As soon as he slipped in, they both gasped in ecstasy.

Hours passed as they made sweet, passionate love, taking her in many positions that made her question her flexibility. Pulling out, he turns her around to face the mirror again before wiggling her backward to snuggle up close to him. Catching a whiff of his cologne she felt herself becoming hazy as he lifted one of her legs up on the counter for support and lined her on top of his length. Shushing her gently as he heard her faint whimpers, he held her chubby waist for support while massaging her breasts and leaving trails of sloppy kisses all over her neck and bare shoulder as he made her cum once again. 

Before taking her in another position. Still staring ahead in the mirror, she notices multiple hickeys on her neck, shoulder, and breast, but she doesn't have time to react because he cups her face, linking their lips together as their bodies remain intertwined together.

"Bend over, beautiful." He instructed.

Guiding her forward and face away from him, he bent her upper body down till she could see her knees, restraining her arms behind her back with one hand while sliding his cock back inside her eager hole.

She couldn't take it anymore, stuttering out how lightheaded she was while feeling the blood rush to her head and how deep he was penetrating. Having to loosen herself from his grip to support herself by touching the cool restroom floor.

Begging and panting for more.

Until finally being in a carrying position. She clings to the attractive man with nothing on except her thigh-highs and a barely hanging heel. Though he was in no better shape than she was, with lipstick marks on his neck and shoulders and around his mouth and lips, his pants hanging around his ankles, his cloak and shirt discarded somewhere, leaving him naked with arms around his neck and legs wrapped behind him, he lifts her completely off the ground while thrusting inside her.

‘Yes, this is what I want. This is what I need.’ She thought and kissed again. Each kiss feels better than the last, and their kiss grows deeper.

"My girl," The handsome man declared, making her pussy flutter around him at the idea of being his girl, his good girl. And he was aware of it.

"Yeah? Like being mine? My good girl. How about that? My good girl, my good girl, my good girl…" He chanted as he dragged his cock into her writhing walls, making sure she felt every inch of his length.

She nodded, feverishly nodding her head in approval, whines pouring out of her mouth. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and her tongue lolled out as drool dripped from her mouth.

She couldn't envision this man saying these embarrassing things, but he did, and he said them deliciously with pride.

He paused, smoothing aside the damp hairs from her forehead before continuing.

"Do you want me to cum inside? Speak up, like a big girl. Daddy loves it when you use your big girl words." He purred, stroking her cheek and staring into her sex-dazed eyes.

“Y-YES! Yes, Daddy, I want you to stuff me full of your load -Nng!” 

He chuckles as he hears her feeble whimper and sees her teary eyes. Her arms clutch his shoulders as she looks him down with gritting teeth and tears-shedding eyes before eventually feeling shy and attempting to avert her gaze yet he didn't allow her to, cupping her face and keeping her gaze on his.

"Cum with me," he huffed, drawing her face close as she nodded. They were in a trance, staring into one other's eyes and panting as he looked between her eyes and lips, touching her bottom lip before gripping the back of her neck and drawing her close for a passionate kiss.

Bouncing her on his cock, over and over again, until she notices his heartbeat rising, his length throbbing, and his breath quickening when he rips away. Fucking her fast and hard, growling in her ear about who treats her well, who fills her up like this, and who makes her cum this fucking good. And all she could say while sobbing against his mouth was that it was him, and only he could make her feel good, and of course, they both ate it up.

Their bodies stutteringly clung to each other as he thrust into her slowly and deeply, cumming. She brushes his wet bangs away and puts his face in the crook of her neck, watching his body heave as his hips thrust lazily upward while firmly holding her body close to his so she doesn't collapse.

Slowly setting her down on the counter after a few minutes yet she still clung to the man in front of her with those big flirtatious eyes, peering naively up at those glowing red ones while pouting.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…” Looking down to hide her embarrassment, but he reaches his long finger out and beneath her chin, gently lifting her face to look at him. Silently ordering her to speak.

"So that's it then. What’s the point of all of this? For you to just leave?" It’s so unfair." She murmurs while clutching his cloak and turning away from him, not wanting this man to see her cry.

"Enough now. Have I not tormented you enough?" He was hesitant to turn her head to face him, gently cupping her chin, seeing tears running down her cheeks and staining her once dolled-up face, and he wiped it away with the sleeve of his coat.

He focused his entire attention on her. He’d never witnessed her being that submissive. Her lips were swollen from kissing, and her face was heated to the touch with half-lidded eyelids. In all honesty, she was a mess, but to Itachi, she looks absolutely stunning right now.

"Will I ever see you again? -Only if you want to...! She paused before continuing, suddenly aware that she was yelling at the stranger. " I-I mean…"

He pulled away from her to redress himself. He smiled apologetically, occasionally massaging the side of her thighs just in case she had a cramp. "We'll have to wait and see. Until then, take care of yourself."

She cries out to him just as he is about to take another step. 

"Wait! Before you go, what is your name?" As she waited for his response, she sheepishly covered her chest with her discarded top.

"It's Itachi," he said, casting a side glance.

‘Itachi~’ She touched her chin and nibbled her bottom lip. 

She liked how his name sounded coming out of her mouth.

Itachi made his way to the door of the restroom, where he stops to clarify something. 

"By the way, no fooling around. If what you said is true in the heat of the moment, then your body belongs to me. If I find out you forgot, I won't hesitate to remind you." He said, exiting the restroom, leaving the curvy beauty speechless and awestruck after him.

Did that just happen? She had never experienced anything so vivid, yet so dreamlike at the same time. It felt so amazing that she was already missing the mysterious stranger.

As she was getting dressed something slips out of a piece of clothing and fell to the ground leaving a clinking sound after it. Kneeling down and picking up the object she observes the metal ring with the crimson center with the writing “Shu” on it. Flashbacks of the familiar ring flood her thoughts from when Itachi had his hand wrapped around her neck as she face the mirror.

He wouldn't mind her keeping the ring as a memory of their nightly passion, would he?

———————

“There you go, enjoy your meal.” She said, bowing with a kind smile on her face before leaving. 

It had been weeks since their encounter, and she had returned the next night, waiting for hours to see whether she would see Itachi again. She eventually gives up and realizes that she will never see him again.

Carrying the tray of Dangos, she headed to where the cook said the diner sat until noticing the familiar ring on her right ring finger. 

She had been so attached to him in such a short time that she did not dare or intend to revert to her old self. Surprisingly, swearing not to sleep around. Sure, it was entertaining for a time, but when Itachi claimed that she was his, she couldn't help but smile.

"Sorry for the wait! Please enjoy your..."

Moving aside the short noren curtains, she abruptly halted in her tracks and noticed the familiar red cloud pattern noir cloak on the person she had assumed she'd never see again.

‘No way... It’s him. Itachi!’ She dashes back inside, hiding behind a wall, nearly knocking the sweets off the tray she was holding.

‘Hopefully, he didn't see me.’

She wants nothing more than to run up to the mysterious man with open arms and kiss him passionately before clinging onto him while telling him how much she missed him and how she's been such a good girl since their lovemaking.

But she can't be ecstatic, at least not in front of everyone. Yet, if Itachi truly wanted to see her, he knew where she worked and where she met for pleasure, but he didn't, leaving her to wonder if it was all a dream (when it wasn't).

Easing her nerves, she took a deep breath before making her way toward him.

“H-Hello,” Showing her best fake smile, she places the sweet treats down next to him, before tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. If he wanted to keep what they had a secret, so be it. She was used to this.

“Enjoy…” She mutters out, giving a faint smile before turning back so he couldn't see her smile fall. 

She'd never felt so nervous before. The suspicion that he is lying to her in order to get his way with her and, as a practical joke, going where she works and claiming not to know, it hurts. However, before she could go, her hand, which was holding the crimson ring, was seized, keeping her motionless.

"So, as you predicted, we meet again." He whispers in her ear, causing her to gasp and hide her heated face with the tray in her hand.

"I-I should leave since others are waiting for their meals." She averted his eyes as she said that.

But Itachi would not let her.

"Look at me." He coos, his breath tickling her sensitive ear as he drags his finger up the side of her face, bringing her close to meet his.

Taking the dish from her and dumping it someplace near them, he immediately had her under his spell.

“What’s the matter? Why is the pretty girl pouting?” He teases, showing a faint smile. “Don't play with me, Itachi-sama. I thought we wouldn't see each other again and that what we did was just a one-time thing.” She hissed out, struggling to get out of his grip. 

That made his brow twitch.

“Don’t you miss me?” He smirked, ignoring her feeble attempt and comment. 

Which only seems to irk her.

“Did you?”

If only she knew, how long Itachi had been silently yearning for the curvy beauty. Observing the way she works at a local Dango shop and how she approaches every customer's table sensually, swaying her hips from side to side as she sets their treats on the table while wearing a smile and innocent-appearing eyes, and then makes her way away to take the order of another customer. 

He wanted her to leave lose the phony image and show her true self. The confident, brave, and sexy woman who does not take crap, is an overly eager hussy and appears to become bashful and pouty when her Daddy is not there.

Or so she thinks. 

For Itachi, he kept assuring himself that what he was doing for months was for her sake and would not interfere with anything she did, only observing her every move. Keeping one of his crows following her wherever she went.

I mean, was she that gullible?

She didn't seem to care about her personal safety.

Wearing the sexiest, tightest-fitting clothes imaginable so late at night. What if something went wrong? He’s not shaming her in what she wears -no, he just doesn't trust the outside world. If you think this man is insane now, just wait till something intervenes with her safety. 

He'll be there in a heartbeat.

It was almost as if this was a test. A test to see who could deliver her the pleasure she wanted and deserved. And a test to see how long she could tolerate being with other men before being taken away by him. 

To bind her solely to one dick.

His.

So, when she asks if he misses her, the answer is yes.

He was drawn to her piercing gaze, then to her lush, slightly parted lips in a cute pout, as she bit her bottom lip as noticed where he was looking.

"How about I show you how much I miss you?" He charmingly smiled, leaving her flustered and stammering.

"If you think you can just walk into my life and expect me to just-" She abruptly responds, slamming his chest to vent her annoyance, but stops as Itachi clutches her wrist. "W-what are you doing?" She stutters, feeling his warm fingers trace her arm till they lock hands.

"I believe this belongs to me." He stated this while staring her down and bringing their linked hands between them, revealing the silver ring she cherished.

Of course, he would change the subject.

“I found it.” She calmly said, trying to regain herself by pulling her hand away and behind her body.

“Of course you did.” He grins, surprisingly leaving the ring on her finger. “Keep it. I have another one.” Itachi already knew she'd take the ring, deliberately leaving the silver ring where she could see it, imbuing it with a very special seal.

“And let not forget you putting the honorific ‘sama’ after my name. It hurts my feeling when you said that…” He said, drawing her close and seductively whispering her name with the honorific ‘chan’ right behind it.

“S-Stop it, Itachi! I’m working right now. Everyone could see-” She whispered shouting while backing away from him.

"-that didn't stop you last time. Remember, pinned down on the counter while-"

“Shut up!” 

He can't help but tease the curvaceous beauty. It's amusing to see her become flustered and embarrassed while attempting to fight him back. It's cute.

“Ssshhh…Relax.” He cuddled her and brought their foreheads together to soothe her down. Of course, it eases her. She clung to his cloak and gradually gave in to her loneliness and longing for him.

"I really miss you." She whispered sheepishly, biting her lip and looking at him with hungry eyes.

"I'm sure you did, Love. Have you been a good girl since I left?" Itachi knew the answer but wanted to hear it from her.

"Yes." She pants out, already forgetting where she was as she clings to Itachi's arm.

“Well... Are you going to let me reward you for being my good girl, or are you going to be a brat once again?" He stated this while arching his brow, but before she could speak, he cut her off. "I'll give you two options: tell them you're on your very long break or go back and serve with me gone." He left it at that.

Itachi slips the dango from the dish and begins to walk, leaving her there with no time to evaluate her choices.

But you already know which one you'll go with, right?

[luthsthings]

A Sims 4 Horse Ranch* review, by a Simmer who's not all that into horses

* Software not final. Sponsored by EA.

First, many thanks to EA/Maxis for the early access! This was a treat for me, to get access to an early build to try out for a while, as I'm not exactly a high-profile streamer. Or a streamer at all. Or even a creator (though I'll upload a household I came to love to the Gallery when I get a chance!). But I do love this game! And I love that I can help more of you play it the way you want to. Anyway, the review…

What I liked!

The great range of build/buy! I'll get LOTS of use out of this. It complements some other packs well too.

There are lots of helpful rooms in build mode for fast stables and nectar-related spaces! As a non-builder who sometimes tries to build, I was really happy to have a premade horse stall for my lot.

[image: a pre-built stable room in Build mode]

There's lots of Teen–Elder clothing and hair, and I love the dirty clothes swatches. I'll get LOTS of use out of this pack's CAS! And it will go well with styles from some other packs, too.

The new Afro-textured hairs are a welcome recognition that the cowboy culture of the Old West was not a White culture — there were lots of Black, Hispanic, and Indigenous cowboys and entrepreneurial women in the Old West!

I deeply appreciate the Indigenous content in build/buy, recipes, and CAS — I could see lots there in CAS, for example, that the Navajo people I saw and met in Utah and northern New Mexico (which is a part of the world I really want to go back to) wore IRL.

Lots range from fairly small (15 x 20) to quite large. I appreciate the range as someone who isn't a fan of building on large lots when I do build. There are horse practice areas in the land around some small lots, so you can still keep a horse there.

For Strangerville owners who love that landscape (which I do!), there's now somewhere for that valley, with its smaller population, to be "near". I can imagine that you'd drive up into a range from the new world and drop down into hidden Strangerville. Driving the other direction might take you to Oasis Springs.

The horse-riding and other horse animations are really detailed and fluid. They interact a lot with each other, too. I felt like parent and child horses recognized their relationship even.

[image: a mare lovingly nuzzling her foal]

The sheep and goats are endlessly adorable. Plus profitable! :D And they can sleep in your house!

The rabbithole adventure location out in the countryside has a very different gameplay than previous ones! And it has great sound effects -- play it with the volume up! It's hard to find, though. But it was nice to not need other tricks to get access. (I still have not done the secret places in Oasis Springs or the Outdoor Retreat pack!)

What I didn't like:

No new fridge, stove, bathtub, or toilet (I do like getting more of those!)

Very little boys' children's clothes. And no chaps for Children, even though they can ride and even though Toddlers got some

I would have liked a higher-tech/automated version of a nectar maker. However, this isn't a feature I care about much anyway.

You can't breed the mini goats and sheep, and there aren't even smaller baby ones. I'd have liked to have a full-on sheep farm. I like sheep. (I can practically see my husband glaring about how much I like sheep, even though he's waaaaay far away at the office right now.)

[image: a smiling, leaping mini-sheep, with a spotted goat behind it]

I definitely would never have found the countryside rabbithole without help, but maybe you will? If I could figure out how to do spoilers here, I would...

The horse-toy balls are a little… glowy? for my taste. They also weren't where I looked for them in the catalog, so you'll want to use search for them.

Cross-pack things?

I'd have liked to check out these before now, but with the pre-patch builds, that's not an option, and I'm always kind of busy when patches come out! For example ...

How do cats and dogs interact with horses, sheep, and goats?

Can horses be familiars for spellcasters?

Are there new Milestones?

Are there new Lifestyles?

Are there new Club rules, and are there enough of those?

This Simmer needs to know! (And eventually will.)

Neat things to know!

There's a rabbithole building in town where you can change or plan outfits like a dresser! And just off the main road in town there's a rabbithole building where you can buy goats, sheep, and groceries and other useful things, like horse age-up treats. I liked having an alternative way to buy these things and a whole new way to plan outfits. I'd be happy for more of that. If I can't go into a building, I might as well at least be able to pretend I can. As long as they don't end up being worlds stuffed with rabbitholes in place of gameplay (actually watching horse competition would have been nice!).

You can use a Community Board in town (or from B/B if you want one on your lot) to take local one-off jobs for money. Most need you to own a Horse or some sheep or goats. There are lots of ways to make money as a rancher without needing someone in the household to have a job. My relatives who are farmers will be seriously jealous.

Get to know that Crinkletop guy! He's very useful.

Bugs? Bugs!

Things to watch out for that were issues for me in the early-access build, which is NOT the release build, so hopefully it's a bit better:

Ranch dancing is EXTREMELY popular. You might want to not keep a radio at home until the new dancing has a mod to … moderate it. Or is tuned down by the devs. But I do like it when I'm in control!

[image: five Sims ranch dancing (line dancing) as a group, including two Don Lothario and Eliza Pancakes]

The beautiful stone fireplace was also very, very popular, and of course potentially deadly. Watch out for that.

Ranch hands are NOT reliable. They might stay really, really late. They might stop showing up after a couple days. They might forget the things you instructed them NOT to do the day before. They might be super into kicking the garbage bin over. Keep an eye on your ranch hand. At least until the day, someday, when they get fixed. I'm hoping this is also moddable for those of us on PC.

At one point I had a weird bug where my Sim decided she would NOT eat. The rest of the household could eat. Guests could eat. They could eat HER food. It was fixed by going to the world map and back into the household, so I didn't find out if she was going to just starve to death.

I couldn't find some of the new CAS at first because some men's outfits were under "jumpsuit" for no apparent reason. So, if you're looking for some cool outerwear, try "jumpsuits." Hopefully it was recategorized for the release build!

And that's it! I'm happy to answer questions!

[tired-teacher-blog]

You got it babe! And let me tell you one more time that I'm truly sorry for taking so long 🥲

Title : My serenity

Characters : Amajiki/ Gender neutral reader

Genre : Tooth rotting sweetness with a hint of angst at the beginning/ One shot

Trigger Warning : Social Anxiety Disorder/ Panic Disorder

Masterlist|Second Masterlist

Breathe in.. and breathe out..

Come on y/n it's the usual, don't freak out, you can do it.. again..

Breathe in.. and breathe out..

Just the way he taught you, close your eyes and clear your mind.

And you really strived to do it, however..

Your legs shook as your heart hammered in your throat, and no matter how deeply you breathed in and out, your anxieties still shackled you.

You hated those galas you were forced— as a pro hero, to attend every once in a while. You hated being surrounded by people who seemed to naturally follow those social norms you struggle with everyday. And you especially hated forcing yourself to smile and act like you were happy to be among them when all you really wanted was to be home, with him.

It's nothing against anyone in particular, the problem is yours and yours alone.

_ "Tamaki, where did you go?" you almost whimpered your query as your eyes frantically searched for him.

Last time you saw him, he was dragged away to the bar by his friends, leaving you behind with yours.

You excused yourself and rushed to the restroom, locking one of the empty stalls behind you and collapsing on top of the toilet seat lid.

Your breathing was ragged and your eyes stung as you struggled to keep your tears away.

_ "Tamaki, please.." you couldn't even tell what you were begging for exactly, you just wanted to see him.

Should you message him? Ask him to leave already? But that wouldn't be fair to him, why should he witness another one of your illogical episodes?

Sure, he does still suffer from the occasional crippling tension as well, but he's doing better and it would be unjust to pull him back down.

You tried taking another deep breath, but a strangled whimper was all you could manage before your tears followed suit. You felt pathetic, weak, and really out of place. And all of a sudden, that confined booth you sheltered yourself into seemed even smaller, suffocating.

You wanted to be out, but hated seeing everyone again. This feeling, this absurd and illogical feeling sent you spiralling into madness, until..

A gentle knock on your stall door pulled you back abruptly, and you flinched as the knocking continued with no sign of stopping.

_ "Thi.. this one is occupied.. please try.. another one." you struggled between your sobs and tried as best as you could to sound collected.

_ "Y/n, it's me sweetheart, please open the door for me."

Tamaki..

It was him, the only one you wanted to see at that moment, and without thinking, you rushed to unlock the door and jump in his arms as soon as you saw him.

_ "Thank God you're here! I was.. I was.." you couldn't find the right words but you didn't have to, not when you were with him, never when you are with him, because he understands every little thing about you.

_ "I know honey, I've got you." his voice was tender and reassuring, and his touch was warm and loving— same as always, and you found yourself melting in his embrace.

_ "Do you want to go home? This gala is a flop isn't it?" you could feel his rumbling chest as he chuckled, and the serenity that brought you was something only he could provide for you.

_ "I do, I really do."

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Half an hour was all it took to reach home where you could finally breathe freely. Although, a tinge of guilt still pierced your heart regardless.

You hated troubling him, yet that seemed to be the one thing you're most capable of.

_ "..'m sorry.." your muffled apology came as soon as the door was locked behind you two.

He flinched sensing your strained body latching onto his back, and turned his head around as he wished to catch even a glimpse of you, but your face was buried so deep between his shoulders that all he could witness was your trembling ones.

_ "Don't apologize beautiful, you did nothing wrong." his heartening voice comforted you, but the rue in your soul went on.

He never blamed you in such circumstances— neither will he ever do, as he knows first hand what it means to be bound by a paralyzing distress.

_ "Will you allow me to see your face?" he requested carefully but made no attempt to break free from your clutches, "it's totally fine with me if you need some more time."

You wished to stay like that a moment longer, but despite the state of mind you were in, you realized how ridiculous it would be if you did.

You nodded slowly and took a few steps back, squeezing your eyes shut and hanging your head in shame.

He wasted no time cradling your cheeks and running his thumbs along your tear stained skin, it was soothing and you almost whined as you leaned into his soft touch.

_ "Tamaki, I'll do better I promise, so please don't give up on me." hearing yourself utter those words overwhelmed you, and the sobs that followed were too much for you to hold back.

_ "I would never let you go so don't even think about it," he pulled you closer, guiding your cheek to rest against his thundering heart, and placing the softest kisses on top of your head, "you've been there for me through it all and you've always made it easier," his arms sneaked around your waist and held you securely in place, "you've never given up on me, and I'm never going to let you go."

Hearing his words only made you weep louder, yet the tears that dampened his shirt weren't those of sorrow, but those of relief.

He embraced you tighter, allowing you to release all the tension that's been suffocating you the whole evening. There was no rush, no urgency, only each other's presence was all that mattered.

Your sobs finally ceased, and you slowly pushed yourself away to be met with a dazzling smile that only you has ever been able to bring out.

_ "I love you y/n," he whispered against your forehead, nuzzling his way to your temple, "always have and always will," his lips inched closer to your trembling ones, only stopping momentarily to search your eyes for any signs of hesitation, and sealing you with a tender kiss when he found the same longing he held for you.

You melted against him, sneaking your arms around his neck and feeling the trace of his fingers along your spine.

His warm lips glided slowly in a rhythmic dance with yours, and you moaned softly when his teeth nibbled playfully on your lower one.

_ "Tamaki.." you got so lost in the sensation, that only when your back hit the bedsheets did you realize that you were no longer in the entryway.

_ "I'm here beautiful, and I'm not going anywhere."

You were exactly where you wanted to be and with the one who's always given your life meaning.. your pillar, your serenity, your home.

@mommymi1kers

[nightmaretist]

TIMING: Mid April PARTIES: Mercy & Inge LOCATION: Dance Macabre SUMMARY: Inge finds Mercy in the club bathroom, where the vampire is hiding from the loud noise and flashing lights. CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A

Going to Dance Macabre had lost some of its charm now that Inge couldn’t get down on the dance floor as she was used to. She tended to get into the club with an air of confidence, ready to dance to the goth music that usually ruled the speakers and make it through a sleepless night. But there was no fun to be found in dancing now and so she found herself evading the club or, if she visited, sitting in a booth, sulking.

Most days, she didn’t even make her way there by car and foot — she just manifested in a bathroom stall, locked it and waited a moment before exiting. Today she chose that way, preferring her commute through the astral. She’d been back at school teaching and her body hurt from the standing, but she didn’t want another day at home.

So she swung open the door of the bathroom, finding it empty save for one person. A woman – no surprise there – and as would be Inge’s luck, she was upset. For a moment she stood there in the doorway of the bathroom stall, wondering if she could get away with astral projecting somewhere else but eventually deciding against it. “Hey,” she said, walking up to the sinks and mirrors. She opened a faucet, let cold water run over her hands despite her not having used the toilet. “Everything okay?” She wondered if this was a human, hoped it wasn’t. “Something happen out there?”

—

Mercy was tired of being confined to Caleb’s house. It was where she lingered most days, unless she were at The Sugar Pot working in the shadows learning about how the 21st century seemed to work. And even then, those days could be quite frustrating. Nothing about Wicked’s Rest was as she had remembered, except the occasional stroll through nature where somehow man had decided to leave things untouched. Those were her favorite places. And they had reminded her briefly of the life she had once lived.

But tonight, while Caleb was out doing his own thing, Mercy had found herself venturing out into the darkness and down sidewalks and streets until she had come to a place known as Dance Macabre. For whatever reason, it had given her an odd sensation. It had felt right and where she belonged. Even the name seemed to remind her of the works of one of the greatest playwrights of her time…William Shakespeare.

As she moved forward, drawn in, she smiled as a man who was much larger than her small 5’2” stature allowed her to pass into the haze of living and undead alike. It wasn’t what she had expected at all. And in fact, it was so loud that it hurt her ears. Music thumped and the smoke and haze with strobing lights left her feeling disoriented. She had immediately regretted coming into the loud nightclub. But Mercy couldn’t seem to find her way out, and instead, she stumbled towards the bar, where a tall blonde woman had asked if she was okay, before the vampire made a break for what seemed to be a dark hall that was mute with anything flashing.

Coming to a doorway, she desperately looked for the handle and out of frustration pushed on it, which sent her careening forward and into a smaller room that wreaked of an all too familiar stink that lingered in the fields of Salem many, many years ago. But Mercy didn’t care. It seemed like a safer place to be - with muffled sounds and steady white candlelight overhead, and without thinking any harder, she found a dark and safe space to crawl up under, until she heard a voice speak to her.

Peering out from under the sink, Mercy looked up to see a woman standing there, “Nay, tis much too loud and all consuming. I hath made quite the mistake in coming here. But I know not of how to leave.” The 17th century vampire realized her words were once again aging her, but in this moment, the fear and anxiety she felt was much too great to worry about what someone thought.

—

The bathroom was often a place for things like this, wasn’t it? For drunk girls to deliver compliments as if they were soliloquies and wipe a strand of hair from your face. To hold someone’s hand, tell another that the man she was after was hardly worth her time, to exchange tampons and lipgloss. Inge still carried tampons with her for this reason, even if she didn’t need them any more. 

And those things she was good at, but this? A woman crouching under a sink, looking absolutely overwhelmed with her surroundings. As if this was the first time she’d been a club. Distantly she remembered what it had been like, to venture into the city and go into a place like this for the first time. She’d gone to parties back in town, but they’d been held in sheds and living rooms, sometimes in the town cafe — and the attendants had all been familiar figures. Former babysitters, classmates, colleagues of her parents, the veterinarian and friends of her husband.

Going out in Amsterdam had been dizzying. Everything had been dizzying after she had been transformed, of course, but she had felt like this. That was so long ago now — Inge frequented clubs aplenty these days, found their noise and sounds comforting. 

She dried off her hands, looked down at the other woman. She spoke like she was stuck in a different era which might have made plenty raise their eyebrows. But Inge was an undead woman in an undead nightclub, so it wasn’t entirely out there. She gave a look of sympathy, something she extended primarily because she hoped the other was undead like her.

“Alright,” she said, crouching down a little. “Why don’t you get out from under there, huh?” She extended a hand. “I know this place like the back of my hand, so I can show you the way out.” Inge hadn’t planned on doing something like this tonight, but she found that life never seemed to go as planned as of late. “What’s your name? Did anyone bother you?”

—

The new world had really been something. Over the course of nearly four hundred years, Mercy had laid deep underground in a pine box that held dirt and decay leaving her with one struggle…keep her mind intact. There had been a lifetime’s worth of worry to dwell on for centuries having no answers and never having contact with anyone but bugs crawling over her slowly rotting form. In and out of her mouth on occasion. Over her eyes, in and out of her ears. Nibbling on her clothing and flesh. And at first, she would scream trying to shake off the creatures that scared her so, but as time passed, she had given in…allowed them to linger on her form considering it was as close to human touch and companionship as she could get. The millions of tiny legs and bodies over the years crawled around looking for food or a place to reside, all while she began to focus more on mental tasks and memories. Until finally, one day, there was just silence from giving up, except for the occasional hard thump, rumble, or rattle that shook the ground around her.

But now, here she was surrounded by too much noise. Too many people. Too much stimulation struggling to accept all of it and understand what it meant and why people were so different.

Leaning back slightly as she watched the other woman kneel down, Mercy was cautious. And as soon as she noticed her hand, she hesitated, before giving in and taking it. Managing to pull herself out and up, the petite woman straightened up in her posture, “Thankee. My name is Mercy, and what shall I call thee?” She looked with sad blue eyes in her direction, “Nay. No one hath bothered me.” It probably seemed absurd to someone such as the woman standing in front of Mercy, but here they both were having this strange interaction.

—

There was some kind of nurturing instinct within her still. Inge didn’t enjoy it when this instinct gave her responsibility, but that didn’t mean it didn’t prop up from time to time. She wasn’t wholly uncaring, after all — she cared for her fellow undead, in most cases, and even as a professor she didn’t mind being a bit of a guide. And so it made sense to extend a hand and be glad when it was taken, looking at the shaking woman with a hint of concern.

She continued to speak in that ancient way and it reminded her of Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo + Juliet, with all the flashing lights behind the door but the Shakespearean speech falling off her lips. Something about it was theatrical, but it was also not wholly strange in a world where people could live to be a thousand years old and not age a day. Inge moved a pluck of the other’s blonde hair behind her ear.

“I’m Inge,” she said. “And I am glad no one has bothered you.” She had a small inner debate on how to broach the subject of the other’s potential immortality. She let it go for now. It could be discussed outside. “Alright. We’re just going to get out of here now, okay?” She took her hand again. “Get some fresh air. I’ll guide the way.” She gave a small smile, used her free hand to open the bathroom door and welcome the sounds of the club, heavy bass pumping through her ears. She pushed past people with ease, as she was practiced in the art of moving through large masses and reached for the doors once she’d gotten there, letting go of Mercy’s hand as they got outside. “Better?”

—

Mercy, though apprehensive about leaving the safety of the bathroom, no matter how dingy it was, had felt something familiar and warm with the woman that stood in front of her. Her words were soft and kind. There were no harsh stares, just someone who spoke gently, compared to the other people who had milled about earlier in the bathroom not even noticing Mercy tucked away in her hiding space, “Tis a pleasure to meet thee, even under such circumstance. I am Mercy.” A small, subtle smile appeared across her face cutting through the sadness that lingered in her blue eyes.

At the request to leave, Mercy inhaled deeply and released a small sigh as she nodded in approval of the plan. And with a grip much tighter than before, she latched onto Inge and followed the other woman through the overwhelming loudness of the music and modern people to finally reach the outside of the club.

With the coolness of the night air hitting her face, she let out another sigh, but this time it was one of full relief. Mercy was free and safe. The music thumping inside the building was still somewhat intimidating and the people wandering around outside Dance Macabre made her somewhat nervous, but she was free from the modern prison of a cacophony of sounds and peculiar people, “Much better, aye. Thankee from freeing me from such a prison. How dost one stand such chaos?” She looked to Inge with genuine concern.

—

Mercy’s hand was cold in her own, which was to say, she was the same temperature. Inge knew some people were just coldblooded but this was a meeting place of the undead. She would take the leap, she decided, once they were outside. For now her goal was clear: she was to take this confused and lost woman outside, to lead her to a place where lights didn’t flash and music didn’t pump.

She laughed softly at the question Mercy asked once they were outside. She had been like this once, she kept telling herself. Overwhelmed and wide eyed. Wondering why people enjoyed places so crowded, so filled with the stench of alcohol and cigarettes. Back then people had smoked inside. Back then she had smoked inside. “You learn to like it, if you want. It’s nice to enjoy the music together. To find people …” She smiled. “To have fun.” 

She started to walk from the sound of the pulsing music, though, looking at Mercy to see if she was following. “So … and correct me if I’m wrong,” Inge said. It was dark out. She could disappear if this was a mistake. “But are you of the unaging kind? You seem much older than you look. And that is a compliment.”

—

Mercy looked back as people stumbled out of the club laughing. It was nice to see people enjoying themselves. To see happiness, when she had come from a stricter time. One of morals and standards you did not question out of fear of what could happen. People liked to talk, and Mercy hated being the subject of their talk, but it seemed that people in this day and age were more wrapped up in their own needs, then that of those around them. Of course, the vampire had only been present in this new, modern world for the briefest of moments, so she hadn’t discovered tabloid magazines and online trolls.

“Fun? I do not recall such a word.” It was true. The word hadn’t come around until the early 1700s when Mercy was already buried deep underground. And like the people leaving Dance Macabre, laughing and smiling was something she hadn’t done in quite a while. In fact, the only genuine smile she could remember recently was something Caleb had said. The moving people in the wall often made her laugh, but it was somewhat hollow and only because it got her mind off of things, “I hope to find enjoyment in life once more, when the shock of these modern times has dulled.”

Noticing Inge move forward, Mercy followed, “Aye. I hath not aged. At least as far as one can tell without being able to see one’s own reflection. I was born in 1657 and lived in Salem town, up until I was accused of being a witch. From there I fled to Wicked’s Rest, but fate hath determined an early grave after being accused of being a demon, in which I was laid to rest in a pine box where I hath been for nearly 400 years.” She looked towards the ground remembering what both Caleb and Alistair had warned against, but Inge had saved her, and she felt she had owed the woman an explanation.

—

There was a chance that this woman was some kind of cosplayer, a goth who committed to the bit very hard, but Inge doubted it. Mercy had seemed genuinely upset by the noise and chaos in the club and hadn’t seemed to be performing for any kind of audience. Besides, Inge had met people who were old before — vampires and mares who’d ran around the world for multiple centuries and weren’t able to shake the antiquity from their way of speaking. This seemed more like that.

“Maybe you’ll have to look somewhere else besides clubs, then. They aren’t for everyone.” She gave a little hint of a smile, glad that the other was walking with her. And then Mercy offered a kind of honesty that was dangerous in these parts — even though she had been the one with the forward questioning in the first place. She was nearly half a century old, it was hard to imagine such a life – especially such a life spent in a pine box.

She could not be a mare, then. If Inge had been buried alive for so long, she would have perished after a while due to starvation. Her mind flashed to Ariadne, locked in a van. It flashed to Italy, where she’d hungered  while trapped. “That’s horrible,” she said, “Fate …” She tsk-ed, halted and looked at Mercy. “There is no such thing as fate. Just ignorant and cruel humans. I’m sorry that happened to you.” She shook her head. “I’m undead too, for what it’s worth. A mare.” She looked over the other. She hoped this wasn’t a lie. She wondered if it was — but she knew how cruel hunters could be. She could still flee away if this woman was a hunter who knew how to play her cards. “And I am of the opinion our kind should stick together, hm? Watch each other’s backs. Maybe teach you a thing or two about this twenty first century.”

— Mercy was starting to relax and find comfort in Inge’s company. She had spoken harshly, but from the last days of the vampire’s time with the living, before being shoved in a box, there was some truth held in Inge’s words. However, Caleb had been kind. Even Alistair. The paths she had crossed so far held kindness, but the more she thought about it, including learning what Inge was – not that Mercy knew what a mare was, she was coming to find that everyone who had been kind had been far from being a mere human, “I suppose you speak truth in the regard of humans.” It was still an odd notion knowing she wasn’t technically a part of the living human world anymore.

“Preytell, Inge, but what is a mare?” Mercy looked to her new friend as they walked slowly down the sidewalk. There was still so much to learn in this world. More about vampires, such as herself, and the other creatures that seemed to roam the modern streets of Wicked’s Rest. But she wanted to learn. She wanted to know. If this was to be her new life, she had to know.

“I propose a deal. I shall teach thee of life in the 1600s, if thee shall be so kind as to teach me of life in the 2000s.” With a more confident smile, now that she was away from the booming nightlife of Wicked’s Rest, Mercy locked arms with her new friend. If there were more people like the Inges, Calebs, and Alistairs of the world, she had hoped she would cross paths with them sooner or later, because at least life in modern times wouldn’t be so lonely or so hard.

[sunflwryu]

warning: yandere | suggested by: anon + 🫧 anon | part 1

surrender

“so why did you come to school with the nishimura niki?”

you stiffen as your classmates gather around your desk, faux smiles plastered on their faces as they eagerly await your response. there’s something off about them, but you dismiss it; you know they only want to hear the gossip, anything to cure their boredom, anything to talk about, and especially if it was about the hottest and richest yet untouchable it boy of the entire school. from the look in their eyes, you could tell they already had their own assumptions about everything. it wouldn’t matter at all what you said at all, the rumor would be everywhere by lunchtime, and you couldn’t do a thing about it. still, their expectant gazes paled in comparison to niki’s.

“he must like you, right? and you like him back...?”

you give a tight smile, not knowing where to look but awkwardly at your books. did they know something? why would they assume that straight away when you haven’t ever been seen together in school? you had rushed in way ahead of him, not wanting to be caught in the rumors, but they found you anyway. “well...um, we—”

something drops on the floor, making you jump in your seat. everyone turns in the direction of the sudden sound, and said boy gives a slight smile. “my bad,” he says, picking up the fallen book casually, but his eyes are focused solely on you, flashing with electricity, warning that you shouldn’t say anything but the truth to them, that you shouldn’t make any lame excuses, especially in front of him. you gulp, shuddering as you whip back around, heart thudding in your ears. you start to wring your hands, and you can feel his gaze boring into your back mercilessly, your entire body tensing, attempting to make yourself smaller.

you hate it, you hate how much fear he strikes in you, you hate the expectations he has for you, and most of all, you hate the unreasonability of his demands. you reach up to touch your neck, feeling the bandage there with a sour grimace, a reminder of your last defiance.

“so, what—”

before they can pester you anymore, you bolt out the classroom door, head down and wishing that everything wasn’t so messed up, but you still can’t shake that awful feeling he gave you. it still lingers on the tip of your tongue, like a bitter aftertaste you can’t wash down, but you try to anyway at the water fountain. it only jolts you more into the moment, returning you to reality enough to register the sound of the door opening again.

you don’t have to look back to know whose footsteps approach, your legs spurring into motion instinctively and you’re into the nearest bathroom you can find and locking yourself in a stall out of pure panic, breathing heavily, but you’re not sure if it’s from running or from the anxiety hammering in your chest right now.

it’s all coming back to you: the sense of disbelief, disgust, fear, dread, and doom in stages of rapid succession, hitting you like you’ve never felt before. he’s cornering you again, he’s going to force you into his mad delusions again, he’s going to—

“honey? is everything alright?” he calls for you from the entrance of the bathroom.

his voice alone, especially accompanied with the haunting echo of the bathroom, makes the tiniest of whimpers escape your lips involuntarily and your skin starts to crawl. his tone is just so easygoing, as if he’s talking to an innocently naive child. it makes you feel so small, it’s like you exist only to go along with his delusions. is this how he sees people? or is it just you?

either way, you hate it.

you put the toilet lid down and sit down on it, tucking your knees to your chest, trying to think how to get out of this situation without things being in his favor.

you hear him take a few slow steps into the bathroom. if it’s one thing you’re thankful for, you’ve learned, it’s his patience. the only problem is, you don’t know when it’ll run out since he always gives you false positives, like the off-putting giddiness of his demeanor and the threat in his eyes. “honey, please answer me...”

“i-i-i need some time right now,” you blurt before he can get any closer. “i-i’m alright. i just...i want to be alone...” you curse your voice for its slight tremor. it doesn’t make you sound very convincing.

“honey...” niki says softly, sounding quite concerned, “you don’t sound okay...”

each second that passes by feels like an eternity thanks to the tension in the air. you sigh and take a deep breath, hoping it would steady your voice. “i’m okay, darling,” you cringe when you use the endearment, but going along with his delusions, his image of you even just a little can chip away at his patience less, maybe even make you more convincing. “i just got nervous being questioned in front of so many people, so i wanted to take a break from it all until class starts,” you explain, clenching your fists as you pray it’ll work, that he would walk away and let you be for a little while longer so you can figure out a better plan to leave him behind, or better yet, put him in a jail cell where he can’t control you anymore. it’s most of the truth, so he should buy it, right?

“ahh, i see,” he nods in understanding, his voice sounding much more relaxed. “you’re always so shy around other people too...how could i forget? i’m such a bad boyfriend.”

you resist the urge to agree with his statement, seething with disgust at his self-proclaimed title, remembering the anger you had to bottle up inside when you first heard him call himself that. you have to play this smart though, you can’t let him win in this situation. “no, you’re not,” you reassure him as softly as you can, buttering him up with the best sugary tone you can muster. you cringe again inside; it’s not you at all. “don’t worry about me, darling. i just need some time away from everyone, including you, to get over it, okay?” you cross your fingers, your eyes on the ceiling as you pray he’ll listen to you and go away.

“i still worry though, honey...you can’t be like this forever.”

the last bit of his sentence makes you anxious. “i won’t, darling...” your mind’s racing for some sort of plausible excuse to keep him away for now, an excuse that goes along with his thinking, but your heart’s still thumping loudly. “i’m getting better...you should go back without waiting for me, alright? i don’t want you to be late for class...”

“what kind of boyfriend would i be if i left without you? what, are your expectations of me that low? class doesn’t matter if it’s for you....” you can hear the pout in his voice. “i’ll wait here for you, honey, so take your time.” it’s not a question, but a firm statement. your heart sinks.

“b-b-but—”

you’re interrupted by him again, but this time, his tone isn’t so nice. “what? are you hiding something from me? why do you keep pushing me away?” his words are sharp, accusing, and they send you into a panic, blocking any excuses you could sputter. “are you cheating on me or something? and so soon after we got into a relationship? do you not want me around?”

yes, you silently reply, i wouldn’t want to ever see you again if i could. if only you had the guts to actually say it though...you’re too fucking scared of him, the threat last time alone’s enough to shut you up for good.

“i—”

“you’re going to open the door now, honey.”

the implications that sentence holds are clear. despite your fear of the present him, you’re fearful of what he could do to ruin your life, so you obey without even thinking, robotically, automatically before you can stop yourself, standing in order to do so.

“oh darling, you’re a mess,” he whispers as he enters the stall, towering over you with an unmatched terror to his aura that freezes you in place, his fingers brushing away the tears you haven’t even realized are trickling down your cheeks so gently, so tenderly that you almost forget the bitterness on your tongue from his advances, from his mere presence alone as he observes you, the slightest of smiles tugging at his lips. “i’m here now, okay? and i have something that might cheer you up. i know it’s not an ideal place, but...i love you so much, honey...”

broken sobs leave your mouth, choked as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out what looks to be a....no, please...don’t do this, please. you’re not even sure if your pleas are in your head anymore or if they’re just whispers he refuses to hear, but it doesn’t matter now, it really doesn’t, you’ve let him in now to capture you, to seal the deal once and for all.

his hand lifts yours, and he presses the back of it to his lips. they feel velvet soft despite how devilish he really is, like a lure to the depths of despair, but you can’t escape him, you can’t escape from the fall anyway, his grip tightening, his arm slithering around your waist to secure you in the position he wants, like you’re his own little marionette, dancing to the tune he wants, the tune everyone but you can hear, loves to hear. all you can do is watch in horror as he slides the golden band on your ring finger elegantly, a twisted affection in that hazy gaze of his, ignoring your small head shakes, dismissing your trembling as merely nerves, or perhaps it’s the happiness he mistakenly sees in you that you couldn’t see in yourself as you stare past his shoulder, focusing on the you in the mirror that stares back with heartwrenching dismay.

and then it hits you as you recognize the hints of a fake smile frozen on your face, and you understand now: the faux smiles from your classmates weren’t for you, they were for him.

all to set up the stage perfectly for him, to lead him to this moment, to encourage you to accept the inevitability to come. the happiness they showed, the happiness your new friends showed, the happiness everyone had would all fade into nothingness thanks to his terrifyingly cold presence, but the smiles remained on their faces full of fear, all to appease the one and only nishimura niki, to paint him the picture he wanted, the picture he decided on his own, because he never, never was told “no” once in his life, never was told that his ideas were wrong, never was told that maybe, just maybe his assumptions missed the mark, and because of that, everyone, everyone were his minions, robots that had no choice, no free will but to go along with him, be swept and work hard to maintain the story he’s crafted in that crooked mind of his every single time, and that was that.

they must’ve known, somehow, or he must’ve told them all about his one-sided crush on you, and both thoughts disgust you to no end.

no wonder why your friends encouraged you to confront him about his creepiness alone, all saying they had to do something, go somewhere. you had forgotten, but you remember it now. you remember their frantic eyes.

your eyes go back to the ring on your finger, focusing on its shine, on how it now permanently bounds you to him figuratively, surely not literally for at least a little while. he pulls you into a hug, patting your back soothingly, trying to comfort you, luckily unafraid of the world, unafraid of anything at all, because now he was unstoppable, and absolutely nothing could shatter his delusions, nothing could disrupt his tune, nothing at all.

and like a marionette...all you could do was surrender to his control like everyone else.

note: thanks for reading, everyone! and thank you to anon and 🫧 anon for encouraging me to do this. i wasn’t thinking about it but their suggestions caused some ideas to pop into my head. you all are so sweet. this was a fun piece to write lol. also this technically can be read as a stand alone! ^_^

to be honest, i wrote this a long time ago, back when the anons who suggested this came to my inbox and back when the first part was originally read. i never actually finished the ending (couldn’t figure out how to write the one i originally intended), but i’ve been wanting to finish and release this for all of you. the above author’s note is what i wrote originally at the time and that hasn’t changed, but i wanted to add this here ig. i hope you all like this all the same, even though it’s been a while! thank you for being so patient with waiting for me and my works, i’ve been so busy and...yeah, just a lot of tiring stuff. i hope this makes sense. niki is...quite the interesting character here. i’m looking forward to your thoughts! feel free to ask questions, i hope mc’s realization wasn’t a curveball outta nowhere and niki’s character is consistent with the last installment (because honestly i hadn’t planned for a sequel for “encouragement”, but here we are).

enhypen masterlist | main masterlist | by @sunflwryu

[fatandnerdy30]

please write a protective Scott Lang one as him as the giant 🥺🙏

Ask and you shall recieve!!

Scott was driving along when suddenly he got a call and on his radio the name 'PEANUT' blared at him in bold capital letters. Quickly he answered, his voice ringing with worry. "Cassie? Are you okay? What happened?"

"Dad....I need your help..." Cassie's voice was quiet and he could hear suppressed sobs on the other end of the phone. In an instant, he turned the whole car around, other vehicles blowing their horns at him, but Scott simply waved and began speeding the other way towards Cassie's school. She had just gotten into college and for her to call her dad for help meant it must be a big deal.

He drove as fast as he could before noticing there were lights in his rearview mirror and he groaned as he was pulled over by the police.

Stopping the car, he slammed his hands on the wheel and waited for wha felt like an eternity for the officer to get out of his car and make his way to Scott's window. "Do you realize how fast you were driving, sir?" The officer asked.

"Yeah, but there's an emergency and my daughter called, in tears I might add, so I'm on my way to get to her and I know I was going a little over the speed limit, but c'mon, it's my daughter." When the officer's face stayed the same, Scott sighed. "Do you have children, officer?"

"Yes I do, but I still don't speed and drive recklessly. Licence and registration."

Knowing he was getting nowhere, he pulled his backup card. "You know I'm an Avenger, right? Ant-man? Recognize me?" He circled his face with his hands.

"I know who you are, but Avenger or not, you need to follow the laws. What kind of example are you setting for the kids out there if they were to see you speeding? Now, license and registration. I won't ask again, Mr. Lang."

Scott sighed and reached into the glove compartment, pulling out the document he needed, and then produced his license with a swish of his hand, hoping to make the man smile at least once. "No? Nothing....all right, not everyone likes up close magic, I guess." He handed them over and watched the officer move on back to his car and get in.

After a few seconds, Scott began tapping his hands on the wheel. This was taking too long. His daughter was crying her eyes out at this very moment, over who knew what, and this officer was taking his time with his computer! Well, that was enough. He had to get to Cassie now!

Jumping out of the car, he began walking a safe distance away before he heard the cop yelling. "Return to your vehicle, Mr. Lang! Don't make me repeat myself!"

"Sorry, can't do that!" Scott yelled back, turning to face the officer. "Emergency!" With that, he reached into his pocket and pulled on the gloves, his helmet appearing from under his hoodie and clicked the button.

The world got smaller and smaller the more he grew, and he watched the police man and his vehicle become toys as he reached his full height. It took a minute for the vertigo to stop before he took his first steps, being careful of the cars under his feet. "Sorry, excuse me," he said to no one and yet everyone as he passed.

Once he was off the highway, he turned to where he knew Cassie's school was and walked as quickly as he could, waving to a few kids who jumped up and down at the sight of him, chuckling at their enthusiasm.

Cassie sniffled as she sat in the bathroom stall hugging herself. How could she be so stupid? SHe grabbed a peice of toilet paper and blew her nose and wiped her eyes. She was about to throw it into the trash when the ground started rumbling and immediately she knew it was her dad. Getting up, she ran out of the building, ignoring the students who were simply staring up in awe and shock at her father's large form.

He towered over the trees on the campus and made the ground quake with each step. His legs finally came to a halt out in the parking lot where car alarms were going off like crazy, but Cassie didn't notice any of that.

Instead she was focused on the large head that kept looking around before the face plate came down and her father's face was on full view. "Cassie?" He called, his voice echoind through the air like a living megaphone.

"Dad!" The girl called, coming to a stop just before his feet, panting with tears streaming down her face. Slowly the living building collapsed as Scott knelt down and made a soft noise in the back of his throat.

"Oh peanut. What's wrong? I came as quuick as I could." Slowly he brought a hand out and wrapped it around the girl and immediately she flung herslef into the fingers that were bigger than her by at least a foot.

"Thanks for coming, dad," Cassie sniffled as she nuzzled into one of the fingers, not caring about her hair. "I'm so stupid," she cried, her sobs coming out like hiccups. Suddenly the hand tightened and Cassie found herself being lifted to her dad's stern face.

"Never say that about yourself," Scott said not unkindly. "You're the smartest, bravest girl I know, peanut." He smiled and brought his other hand up to gently wipe the tears from her cheeks the best he could. "Now, tell me what this was all about."

"My geometry teacher...he....he said he would fail me if I didn't....do things for him,..." She blushed as she remembered the words that came from the man's mouth and looked down. "I can't afford to fail this class, but I can't do those things, dad..."

Anger filled Scott as he stared at his daughter's red face, seeing tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. "He WHAT?!" Yelled Scott, not even thinking about his size and winced when Cassie held her ears. "Sorry...but I'm glad you told me, sweetheart. You stay here, daddy will be right back."

"Dad what are you gonna do!?" The man was already lowering her to the ground, anger written all over his face as he stood. "DAD!" Cassied called, scared for the safety of the man who had verbally assaulted her. She tried to run after him, but her dad was too fast in his current size and she had to stop and catch her breath.

Scott made his way to the school, his brow furrowed with anger as he took every step it seemed to rise. How dare that man confront his sweet little girl with those disgusting words! He would have a little chat with the man.

Making his way to where he knew the math department building was, he stopped and looked down at the terrified faces of both teacher and students alike. "Excuse me, where can I find Mr. Phillip's geometry classroom?"

One teacher pointed to the side of the building and Scott nodded. "Thank you." He took a step and lowered himself to kneel and look into the windows. Screams of fright could be heard from each classroom he peeked into, but it soon became an awed hush as they recognized his face.

Finally he spotted the classroom and raised his head to the top floor, where he found the culprit talking to a female student. The girl looked terrified but had yet to see Scott's face. In fact, both people in the room seemed to not even notice him until he took a finger and tapped on the glass, making the both jump and turn around. "You," Scott called, angrily looking at the man. "I wanna have a word with you." The teacher's face paled and he turned to run from the room.

Not caring about the damage, he broke the windows, Scott smashed his hand through the glass and quickly reached in, careful not to hit the woman in the room, and grabbed the teacher just as he was about to leave the room.

"Where do you think you're going?" He asked the man, dragging him out into the light of day by the collar of his shirt. The man was dangling at least fifty feet from the ground as Scott glared at him, his legs kicking and tears streaming down his face.

"Put me down, please!"

"Not until we've had a good chat. I heard you said some pretty nasty things to my daughter, Mr. Phillips. And I think you were saying those things to the girl in there as well." Scott turned his attention to the girl who was staring at them both.

"Am I right, miss?" The girl nodded fast. "See? You're a piece of filth that I can't stand being around my daughter."

Speaking of Cassie, she came around the side of the building, panting. "DAD! What are you doing?!"

"I'm simply making sure that this creep doesn't get away with what he's been doing. In fact, why don't you alert the media what this scumbag has been doing?"

"I don't need to.." Cassie pointed to where a news van was parked, the camera pointed right at him and the teacher.

"Perfect." Scott got up and took a step towards the van, the newscaster shaking as he stooped. "Good afternoon. I have something for you." Scott lowered his hand and put the teacher in front of the camera. "Now, tell the world what you did." The man was silent for a moment, and Scott pushed him forward with a finger, almost making him fall.

"I...I told my female students that if they didn't do....certain favors for me...that I would fail them and make sure that they were kicked out of the school." Mr. Phillips hung his head, knowing that his career was over the moment he was put in front of the camera.

"That's a good molester," Scott said high above their heads. "And the window I'll take care of, by the way," he told the press, the camera then zooming in on the destroyed classroom. "Sorry about that." He then lifted the man into the air again paying no attention to his screams. "Now, I would like a written apology to each and every girl you threatened from your jail cell because that's where you're going."

Mr. Phillips felt something warm running down his pantleg and was too ashamed to bring it up to the giant man as he hung by his collar until he was put into a fist.

"Cassie, let's go get some ice cream," Scott told his daughter, stooping to let his daughter climb up on his palm. He then stood and started walking back to his car.

Officer Phelps was trying to radio in what had happened when suddenly the road started shaking again and he looked up to see Scott Lang coming his way, this time with a girl seated in the palm of his hand, talking and smiling at him like this was completely normal.

"Sorry about running off like that, officer," Scott said. He stopped and knelt down, letting his daughter off his hand and bringing his fist over to the police car. "This is a little present to make up for it." He opened his hand and let the teacher fall out into the road, the man tumbling a little bit. "A little jailbird in the making. Ask him and he'll sing you a little tune of every wrong he's ever done. Isn't that right, Mr. Phillips?"

The man nodded, not even covering his soaked pants. "I did, officer, I did it to all those girls, I swear. Just please don't let him pick me up again!"

Scott then nodded at the officer and hit the button on his right hand, his size starting to decrease until he stood a little taller than his daughter. "C'mon, ice cream is on me. We'll go to where I used to work, they love me there." He wrapped his hand around Cassie's shoulder. "Oh, and you can send my stuff to the FBI, officer. There's an agent there who'll know what to do with it."

With that, he and Cassie got into the car and drove off like nothing had happened.

[kierancampire]

AAAAAAAHHHHH I WAS REALLY BRAVE TODAY AND FEEL I DESERVE SOME RECOGNITION!

So two things. Firstly, my gym locker room area has scared me so much that I have never once stepped foot in it, and I get severe anxiety any time I do much as think of it, so like even going into it is a huge ordeal. Secondly, I severely, and I mean severely struggle with my body and having others see it, so being in a position where others can see my body is impossible for me.

When I was getting ready for the gym, it was raining and really cold, and I thought either I go there in my gym stuff and get wet and cold, or I change into my gym clothes there. I realised that, no matter what, I couldn't expose my upper body, like there was just no way that was happening, but I comforted myself into changing my trousers/shorts as I told myself underwear is basically shorts. So I wore my gym shirt under a hoodie, and some joggers with my shorts in my bag to change into

I got to the gym, and the moment I saw the locker room, any confidence I gaslit myself into went. I felt like I was going to cry, throw up, and wouldn't do it. But I made myself walk in there, and thankfully it was only me, so I raced to a locker to change before anyone got there and speed dressed. However, when I wanted to leave, there was someone in there. I didn't know if it was raining or not still, but I assumed it was still cold, so I just grabbed the bull by the horns, whipped my shorts off and changed into my trousers! Really annoyingly I forgot I left my earphones in my shorts, so I had to stand around in my underwear for a moment, but I tried not to think of the person beside me, told myself this is normal, this is okay, I can do this, and I did it :')

Also, once I was alone I took the chance to scoop out the locker room and take some photos, just cause I was curious what the toilet/shower situation was like. The locker room was way smaller than I expected, and unless I went in a stall there was nowhere to hide while getting dressed, and I am dreading Winter a bit as there are such few locker spaces inside. But yeah, this is what it looked like! Not that I'd ever use them, but it's cool the showers are sorta completely blocked off!

[mrs-murder-daddy]

Hello there lovely! So excited that your requests are open 🤭 If you're feeling up for it, might I request some New Years fluff with either Guarnere or Shifty? (You know I gotta rep my faves lol) Thank you so much!! 💕

A/N: Hello hello! I have to be honest they’re both my babies, but I had a really strong idea for Wild Bill. This is kind of a mix of angst and fluff, but I hope you still enjoy!

I also hope you don't mind that I've borrowed your formatting style, it just looks so satisfying!

Let’s Start the New Year Right

Bill Guarnere x Reader

New Year’s celebrations had never really been important to you previously. Of course it was nice to see people’s excitement in welcoming a new year, but you had never been the type to party as hard as some of the people in your neighbourhood.

Then you met Bill Guarnere, a man who looked for any excuse to drink. Now that’s not to say he celebrated these milestones just to drink, but it certainly helped. Considering your last New Year’s Eve was spent in a freezing Belgian forest with artillery instead of fireworks, spending New Year’s with Bill’s family was a blessing. After the war, every celebration felt important. It was a recognition that you were home, that you were alive.

You were worried though. His sister, Annie, told you Bill hadn’t coped well with 4th of July fireworks, and while you hadn’t been around explosions for a while, thunder wasn’t exactly a pleasant noise.

Generally the buzz and joyous atmosphere of your first New Year’s back home kept you distracted and Bill’s warm hand on your knee was an anchor to keep your anxious thoughts at bay.

Annie gave you a look around 5 minutes to midnight, the kind that said I’ll cover if you need it. And judging by Bill’s grip tightening on your leg, you definitely needed it.

You gave her a smile as she led the army of Guarneres and in-laws and children outside, ready for the extravaganza. Meanwhile you snatched a bottle of champagne from the middle of the table and held it up.

“What do you say handsome? To the bathroom?”

He nodded, crooked smile much smaller than normal. You led the way, keeping a firm hold on his arm since he wasn’t quite used to the cane yet.

He sat on the lid of the toilet while you crouched in front of him. The champagne was already popped (thanks Annie) so you took turns sipping until the excitement outside hit its peak.

You quickly put the bottle down and  moved to your knees. Closing your eyes and resting your forehead against Bill’s, your whole body tenses in anticipation.

The first firework went off, slightly muffled but enough to make you flinch.

Bill watched your face change, your brows furrowed and the corners of your mouth curled in distress. And his focus shifted from the volume of the explosions out there to comforting you in here.

His hands rested on your cheeks as you both began to tremble. The fireworks seemed to increase in number but at least not in size and loudness.

When the finale approached, you pressed your lips together and dug your fingers into his wrists. His hands shifted to cover your ears and you ran your own up his arms to do the same.

A few minutes later you were startled apart by a knock at the door. Annie brought you both some water and grimaced sympathetically.

“I can stall for a little longer.” She noticed her brother’s pale face and your shaking hands.

But Bill shook his head, “Just give us a minute.”

Annie nodded and walked out. You looked to your fiancé, who smiled more genuinely. You kissed him firmly then stood, groaning theatrically as you stretched this way and that.

Grabbing both of his hands, you pulled him up and hugged him tight around the middle. He kissed whatever part of you he could reach.

“Thanks sweetheart.”

“Any time.”

[blacknifealecto]

john knows who's working that particular truck stop glory hole, but dean chooses not to look at the guys so he'll never know, john hopes

I HAVE BEEN THINKING ALL MORNING ABOUT THIS GNASHING TEETH LETS GAUR!!!!! (Update from 9 PM me: this took all day but yknow what? I stand by my madness)

Dean's halfway through rolling a cigarette to add to the pile when the door opens. He doesn't move, doesn't even look up, the sound of John's truck is as familiar to him as the sounds of his dad's breathing. It's a sign that dad's come home again, putting to rest his anxieties that dad would die on this one.

"We out of storebought?" John's voice is a tired growl. It's midday and he sounds exhausted. Dean's sure dad hasn't slept since he left the day before yesterday. At the comment, guilt swims in his guts. He coulda gone out, could have scraped some change out of the bottom of their bag and snagged a pack for him. Shit, he had slippery fingers, he probably could have pinched a pack.

"I'm kinda tight on cash, thought we might need food a little more." Dean said, looking his dad up and down. His face was gaunt, there was no way he'd stopped for food on the hunt. Of course, without Dean there to make sure his family was taken care of, they wouldn't do it themselves. Sam and John both relied on him, that was starkly clear when either one was without him.

He watched as John sighed and rubbed a big hand over his face, his posture slumping with exhaustion as he stood there. "You up to run by the Stray Dog?" Hunter bar, Dean knew what he meant by asking that immediately. 'Are you up to putting your mouth to some good use?'

The dog was a not-uncommon stop for the two of them. Seedy, packed with hunters that John didn't like but was willing to swap notes with. On Dean's front, the stalls in the bathroom had long ago had holes drilled into the shitty plywood that divided them - too shitty of a dive bar to have even bothered with standard metal stall walling. At least with the boards, the gap to see a dudes shoes was way smaller.

John gave his ass a quick sneaky squeeze as they parted and Dean headed to the bathroom, his eyes on the floor. The place was full of regulars, faces he'd seen before, and he didn't tend to think too much about the body on the other side of the wall.

They'd run this hustle before. Dad would take the money out front and send the guy back, Dean would be waiting in the bathroom to get on his knees and suck the guy off. Usually when they did this he'd spit into the toilet next to him, trying not to gag at the taste of the various dudes cum. Hunters weren't known for maintaining good diets, and that transferred in nasty ways.

Not even five minutes and he heard the door of the stall next to him scrape, heard the clink of the lock. Dean got to his knees as he heard the guy next door unzip. A minute or so passed as he listened to the guy in the stall next to him jerk himself hard before the dick was through the hole.

His breath caught in his chest as he sat there frozen in the moment. That was his dad. That was his dad's dick. Dean know what his dad's dick looked like, they'd spent years sharing hotel rooms and by-the-month studio rentals when there was a lot to deal with in one spot. He'd listened as his father jerked off, watching to make sure Sam stayed asleep and to be a sight barrier just in case.

John cleared his throat expectantly in the next stall, bringing Dean's focus back to the bar shitter. To his dad's dick stuck through the hole in the wall. He swallowed hard, his breathing shaky as he leaned in. "I know someone's in there, c'mon man," said John from the other side, putting on the affable tough guy voice he used around other hunters. The voice that said he didn't want shit, but he could handle it.

The dick in front of him - his dad's dick - wiggled around expectantly as Dean steeled himself. He could pretend this was some dude he didn't know well, someone he'd only known through a sheet of plywood. He took the dick into his mouth, sucking tentatively at first, more focused than usual on his teeth. Dean had never said anything about it, it was way too weird for him to admit out loud, but he'd always kind of wanted to suck his dad off.

He bobbed his head rhythmically, taking all of John's cock into his mouth with hungry enthusiasm. Dean could hear him breathing on the other side of the wall, could hear his dad's breaths grow raspy and quick as he sped up, driving John closer and closer to finishing.

Most of the time he wasn't this enthusiastic about sucking a dick though the wall, the act much more professionally technical and routine. Get the rhythm going, keep the suction consistent, slow down as he finishes, spit. Hearing his dad groan, the thump of his hand against the wall as John held himself steady, all of it was different. He'd made his dad make those noises.

Dean's heart fluttered in his chest as he felt his dad cum in his mouth, letting out a soft moan around his cock that mimicked the one John made on the other side of the hole. Dean swallowed as he listened to his dad's breathing return to normal, wiping his mouth clean of his spit as the footsteps receded.

Not two minutes later, he felt the cheap phone buzz in his pocket with a text. "Lets go." From dad. Jesus, had some sicko paid his dad to get sucked off by him? With a baffled shake of his head, Dean rose from the bathroom floor and headed out to meet John in the parking lot.

"The hell happened in there?" Dean stared dutifully at the ground as he asked, thinking about the feel of his father's cock in his mouth again. The salty tang of his skin.

"Hm?" John said as he turned around before breaking into a cocky grin. "Ah, the money. Yeah, well," he said, trailing off as he reached in his pocket and pulled out a shabby but decently thick wallet, "Found this on one of the dead guys the vamps got."

He clapped Dean heavily on the shoulder as he stepped closer to the car, chuckling softly. "Slow night's nothing to worry about. I got the info I needed."

[antaresgalaeth]

Yearning for her (Sebastian Sallow x Hufflepuff OC) - Part 3

Warnings: Angsty, Spoilers from Hogwarts Legacy, jealousy, toxic behavior, light smut?, WiP✍🏻

Word count: 1680

Note:  This chapter is shorter, but for the next one there will be smut.

Part 1: link

Part 2: link

Part 4: link

-------------------------------------------------------------------

"Where are you taking me, Sebastian?", panted Alessa, her stride smaller than his and she couldn't keep up with his pace as they left the basement. Sebastian didn't bother to look at her or reply. Some Hufflepuff students they passed by looked at them strangely, it wasn't common to see someone from Slytherin around there. Alessa tried to maintain her composure, tightening her lips into a tense smile, although her eyes betrayed the uncertainty of the moment. They reached the Grand Staircase and as they waited for a path to clear, Alessa took a deep breath and exhaled abruptly, "In the name of Merlin, what's your deal with me?".

Silence.

Both of them descended the stairs towards the dungeons. Upon entering, at the end of the room, there was the entrance to Slytherin. Now it was Alessa's presence that puzzled the students of that house. Sebastian still kept her in his grip, but more gently. He also slowed his pace. She had noticed him stiff throughout the way , but now his arm was more relaxed and his shoulders dropped. With his natural charm, he nodded his head and greeted his peers to avoid drawing attention. The traffic of students at this hour was less, as most were on their way to class after lunch.

They turned right, towards an archway illuminated by braziers shaped like snakes and flanked by two armors, golden due to the effect of the light. Alessa was relieved at the warmth of her own house compared to his. The hallway seemed like an eternity, only their footsteps and a constant dripping in the distance could be heard, not even the ghosts passed through there. They arrived at the area of the bathrooms and Alessa couldn't help but remember something she thought she had overcome. One more room ahead was the entrance to the Scriptorium, where they were trapped the previous year, suddenly a cold sweat ran down her neck and she began to feel dizzy, "please tell me this has nothing to do with Dark Arts again, I thought we had le-", Sebastian raised his index finger and brought it to his lips to shush her, completely ignoring what she was saying.

Without moving from the spot, he turned to one side and then to the other to check if anyone else was around. "Wait here for a moment", he said with a strained voice, entering the boys' bathroom. Alessa's facial expression was a mixture of confusion and remorse for asking that question, regretful for the mistrust. She complied and waited with her arms crossed.

A few seconds passed when Sebastian peeked out, "No one in sight, come in", he said as he pulled her again by the forearm. He had always been more prone to take action, while Alessa was more cautious, so she tried to stop him by leaning her weight back and disagreed, "it's the boys' restroom, Sebastian, I shouldn't come in". He replied with an ironic tone, "It wouldn't be the first restricted section you sneak into with me, Galaeth". His freckled face had been Alessa's weakness since they met, she only had enough willpower to refuse once. With a deep sigh, she dropped her shoulders and let herself be carried away, "well, I suppose it won't do any harm if I enter for a bit", she exhaled.

The boys' bathroom had a large column with porcelain sinks in the center and individual stalls on each side. Sebastian led her to one of the green wooden doors, where a 'Out of order' sign hung. He entered behind her and closed the door, there was just enough space for both of them, luckily there was some separation with the toilet. "Did you really bring me to a bathroom? We could have gone to the Undercroft if you wanted to talk alone", she said, frowning. "No. Ominis always has the extraordinary ability to appear at the most inopportune moment", his tone contained some kind of resentment. "What if someone comes in? Anyone can come in here, including Ominis, if you're so worried", Alessa tried to refute, shrugging her shoulders and raising her hands.

A restrained smile appeared on Sebastian's face as he looked at her and reached into his robe, "this area is the least crowded, only Slytherins use these bathrooms, but why go out if we have our own inside the common room. These are hardly used". He took out his wand from his pocket, "don't worry, no one will know we're here". He pointed at the door and, after a tap on the handle, recited "Colloportus". There was a sharp thud and Sebastian checked that the door was indeed locked. "One of the few useful things we were taught last year, he said sarcastically, "and now for the final touch", with a fluid wrist movement -in the small space they had- he cast the silencing spell. Alessa watched Sebastian put his wand away and they stood facing each other. Her eyes settled on his, they radiated a brightness that she had noticed before, but not with as much energy as at that moment.

"If someone comes in, they won't be able to enter or hear us. No one will know we're here", Sebastian murmured in a deeper tone. Alessa's back touched the wall, her hair was slightly flattened as her bun crashed with the surface behind her. "I don't know if you want to prevent someone from coming in... or us from leaving", said Alessa, trying to lighten the mood, wrinkling her forehead and ending with a muted chuckle. Her arms were extended downwards, tapping the wood behind her with her nails in a repetitive action, expectant. He stood there contemplating her for a moment, restless, holding back the impulsive desire to tangle his hands in her hair and feel her lips.

"Well, I'm all yours'', she said impatiently, pulling him out of his reverie. Although he knew she was referring to starting the conversation, a current ran through his entire spine, his pants were beginning to feel tight. He had to use all his mental strength to stop himself from doing what that sentence had made him want to do. He lowered his head and closed his eyes for a moment to take a deep breath.

Sebastian raised his head and looked at her intently with narrowed eyes, clenching his fists, "I saw you kissing Ominis before Transfiguration class", he said firmly. Alessa's face turned completely red, with an expression of uncertainty, "and that's why you brought me here? That's why you've been ignoring me all this time?", she asked, wrinkling her nose. Without paying attention to her reproach, Sebastian decided to get straight to the point, "do you like him?". Alessa didn't expect that interrogation at all, "what?", she babbled confusedly with her eyes wide open, "I don't understand anything, Sebastian. What's this all about?". He tightened his fists and took a small step forward. Their breaths mixed as one, "do you like him or not? It's as simple as that", he insisted. He looked at her as if he could read her thoughts if he tried hard enough.

Alessa was unable to hold his gaze. "I...", she hesitated, "it was just a kiss on the cheek... no-nothing more". Sebastian relatively relaxed his fists and his fingers moved restlessly as he struggled not to fly off the handle. He raised a hand, lifting Alessa's chin so that her eyes stopped wandering and focused on him. As soon as they made eye contact, he loosened the tension in his face and relaxed his jaw, letting out a condescending chuckle. "Ominis won't value that kiss the same way I would have". Alessa gasped and Sebastian smiled inwardly, "he has no interest in you, he just sees you as a friend. But we have a connection...", he wet his lips and dared to finish, "...a special connection".

Alessa's bust was going up and down with difficulty and she was biting her lower lip. He leaned towards her to whisper in her ear, "I've felt it since the first day and I think you have as well". Alessa's knees began to rub themselves unconsciously, "Sebastian", she whispered, as if she had something to say but the words wouldn't come out. He placed the palms of his hands on the wall where Alessa's back rested, leaving each arm at her sides. Alessa took a deep breath to fill herself with Sebastian's essence, the burnt smell from before had almost faded and returned to his everyday blend of cedarwood, cardamom, and lavender.

"I've seen everything you've done with ancient magic. How you've used it against the Ashwinders and against the Ranrok's Loyalists. Do you think Ominis would have the same perception of you if he had been present?", Sebastian asked her seriously, making her reflect. "Because I accept you just the way you are. I've seen your kind side and your fiercest side". He returned to a natural standing position, moving away from the wall. He stroked Alessa's shoulders, moving down to her arms and reaching her hands, raising them in front of them. "You're perfect to me", he leaned forward and brushed her hands with his lips. Her skin was soft and he wondered if it would be the same all over her body. He took a deep, choppy breath and gave her a delicate kiss before letting her hands fall, keeping their fingers intertwined.

Sebastian stroked Alessa with his thumbs, waiting for her to respond, "Sebastian...I don't know what to say". The shadow of impatience began to creep over him again and was reflected in his furrowed brow, "tell me you don't feel anything for him. Tell me I'm the one who makes your heart beat faster", he ended with a tone that bordered on pleading. Alessa closed her eyes, pulling her hands away from Sebastian's and sighed, "I don't know... I'm still figuring out my feelings", she rubbed her eyes. Sebastian held her face under her cheeks and in a very seductive voice said, "allow me to assist you in figuring it out".

=============

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[darsynia]

Trust Fall | Ch 14a

ARC image by Eury Escodero | image by @superherocaps

Story Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: Tony/OC, ‘terrorists made us fall in love;’ IM1 timeline. In this chapter, Emory tries to figure out where she is.

Length: 2,793

Tags (please don’t hesitate to ask!): @starryeyes2000 @raith-way @arrthurpendragon @starksbf @themaradaniels @chickensarentcheap @tiny-anne

Excerpt:

“Optimistically? 40 points,” Tony says, working at his tie with one hand. He keeps his body angled in a way that Pepper can’t see what he’s doing, because he doesn’t want her to fret about the brewing argument here, and if she sees him struggle with the tie, she’ll get up to help.

Stane’s eyebrows go up. “At minimum.”  

What follows is a completely reasonable argument on Stane’s part about what’s feasible as a company. Tony remains steadfast, even as he notes Obie’s eyes drifting down to his chest multiple times. Obie clearly knows. If Tony weren’t so worried about Emory, if she were waiting for him at the house and he knew she was safe, he would be making notes about the number of times he has already thought about her so he could make her laugh tonight. She’d be particularly amused about the way he feels almost objectified, how the fact of what he’s carrying on his chest is a weight between himself and Obie, a hidden aspect of the conversation. He wants to ask her if that’s what having breasts like hers is like, wants her to slap him, wants to make it up to her. He just wants.

Chapter Fourteen: [weather redacted in report of unexplained incident in Afghanistan]

It is very clear to Emory that she is under intense observation. Her room is smaller than a typical dorm room, and something about it feels wrong, like it’s being re-used as a hospital room instead of designed for that purpose. The lack of a window is particularly strange, and she gets up to look around, grabbing her IV pole to roll it around with her. The bag attached to her tubing is empty, and she is tempted to pull the whole thing out, but that would likely draw attention. It is strange to her that she’s been dressed in scrubs instead of a hospital gown, though-- another indication that something is not quite normal.

When Emory approaches the door, she sees that the metal box above it has shining new screws drilled into chipped, ancient paint. The box has a steady red light which blinks green seconds before the door opens to admit ‘Nurse Kate.’

Emory tells her she needs to use the bathroom, and remarks on the lack of a call button. The agent/nurse says something noncommittal about the call button and leads her to a different door (with another metal box, this one near the knob) requiring a card scan to open. The hallway beyond is under construction and dead-ends with a few tall file cabinets blocking the path. 

The bathroom itself is multi-stall, and her guardian waits by the sinks. When Emory goes to flush the toilet, it makes a terrible sucking noise and doesn't fill back up. The sink itself is set to a trickle.

It’s almost like they’re afraid of what I could do with the water! Emory tells herself. Someone’s clearly got a wild imagination. After seeing just how much air she needs to gather to do anything of consequence, it is laughable to think that she could manage to get enough water from an office bathroom to accomplish anything more than getting her blonde guard soaking wet.

Nurse Kate lets Emory precede her into the room, and Emory angles her path back to the bed carefully, her mind racing. At the last second, she turns to face the agent and backs up so she is leaning against the only viable exit. The woman stops and stands casually, legs apart, hands at her hips. If movies and TV are accurate about agent-types having gun holsters at their center back, Emory is certain this woman has one.

“Under whose authority are you holding me here?” she asks, wishing she had pockets to sink her hands into to hide how much they shake. Tony’s voice in her head tells her that obvious distress might be to her advantage, if they’re worried about what she might be capable of.

“Well,” the agent pretending to be a nurse says, tipping her head sideways and smiling with what is almost but not quite a sweet expression, “Primarily, we’re just trying to make sure you’re medically sound. Beyond that, there could be some security concerns.”

“For me? Or for the population at large?” Emory asks, surprised. It doesn’t seem to read as surprise to her guard, though.

“See, that? That’s just telling on yourself,” Nurse Kate points out.

“Or I’m bluffing.” Emory shrugs, sliding the IV pole in front of her like a shield.

“Well, the difference between the two is the authority under which you’re being held.”

“And that meeting I requested?”

“Are you blocking the door in hopes of advancing that timeline?”

Emory looks behind her as if she hadn’t realized where she was standing. “Are we playing that game where we keep asking a question until the person who doesn’t loses?”

The agent/nurse does an exaggerated shrugging maneuver and silently starts toward Emory. Emory steps aside just enough for the door to open, looking up at the light. Just as she thought it might, the light turns green before the woman touches the door. It hadn’t turned green until the other woman had approached. That probably means there’s a second person watching everything that’s going on, hitting a button to let her fake nurse back out. The other option is that her badge also unlocks this door within a certain proximity, which might be useful.

The woman opens the door, and Emory throws a hand out to stop it. Immediately, Nurse Kate spins into a clearly combative stance, a hand flying out to hold onto the door underneath Emory’s own grip.

“Can I have a book or something to do?” Emory asks in a friendly voice, as if that was the purpose of stopping the door. She now has confirmation that the woman standing opposite her is a special agent of some kind, one prepared to fight her if necessary.

With a decisive head shake, the woman walks through the open space, yanking the door out of Emory’s hand. She doesn’t even seem upset, despite the possible display of ego in not wanting to ‘lose’ the verbal spar.

“What, you think I’ll get bored and play with some sort of magical superpower?” Emory says aloud, laughing.

She has learned more about her situation, though most of the information is functionally useless. The room is for her, she’s sure, with a new security system on one door, though the badge scanner on the other seems like it’s been there for a while. If she had to guess, Emory would say she’s in a dis-used wing of a governmental building, as evidenced by the creative blockade at the end of the hallway. Her room feels like it was originally maybe some kind of small lobby with a reception desk, one that agents or employees would have to pass through to reach offices beyond the badge scan.

Emory climbs back into her bed and starts fiddling with the velcro of her former restraints. It seems like whoever has ordered her confinement is both concerned and creative. However, if she’s right and they’re hoping she’ll display her abilities in frustration or boredom, they’ve checked their logical sense at the door.

She just spent how long stuck in a cave with practically nothing to do? And how exactly did she get out of there? Oh, right. She escaped.

Is that what they want her to try to do now? Emory’s not discounting that option, but what she really wants are answers. It’s been about an hour since she woke up. She decides not to try anything or complain until the next morning at the very least, which gives her a chance to observe the room overnight.

The problem is that to pass the time, Emory absolutely cannot think about Tony, not if she wants to thwart Nurse Kate and whoever is employing her. She’ll have to distract herself, which she has practice doing. Emory pulls the blanket over her head as usual, and then laughs. She’d only started practicing her singing like this because she’d both wanted to hide and wanted to feel less self-conscious, but now it’s a habit, one that probably looks suspicious. It’s not the best thing for a singer to do, but by now, it’s comforting, and she definitely needs that right now. Somewhere out there in the world, she knows that Tony’s arm hurts, and she’s not there to joke about the large number of pain relief options he has access to now. It feels so strange to think that if she pulled the blanket back down, he wouldn’t be there. 

The familiar tingle of energy build-up sheaths her arms, and Emory sighs. She’s going to have to push away these thoughts, but Tony’s been a part of her daily life for so long that it’s like a part of her is missing.

That thought brings back the memories she’d tried to bury out of necessity.

Yinsen.

Just like that, her power dissipates, as if a switch has been thrown.

Emory pulls the blanket down off of her face so she can breathe freely. The weight of grief and guilt pull her into the fetal position on the bed, though she’s careful not to dislodge the IV. She hopes that his soul is at peace along with his family. His confession that they’d been dead the whole time was another truth that Emory had shoved aside the day of their escape, and now seems like exactly the right time to wallow in how horrible that feels.

Maybe her misery will work out to be an advantage anyway, if AgentNurse Kate is watching through her hidden surveillance cameras. She might worry about Emory’s grief and whether it’s dangerous. If Emory could have her way, no one would feel at ease tonight, not when someone so kind, intelligent, and morally just has just been taken from the world.

There had been an officious man standing beside Pepper. That’s the thing Tony focuses on-- not the uproar of press questions, not Stane’s horrified laughter as he shuffles Tony away from the podium, not the near-constant sound of camera shutters clicking as they leave the room. The three of them, Tony, Obie, and Pepper, take the private elevator on the way up to Tony’s office, and despite the fact that his arm has started to ache again, Tony can’t stop himself from laughing.

“What could possibly be funny?” Obie asks. Fury emanates from every pore, every letter of every word.

“I’m destined to be stuck in confined spaces in groups of three, it seems.”

“Tony--” Pepper’s concerned voice breaks off when he reaches out and squeezes her hand briefly. Obie’s huff of frustration sets Tony’s own temper off, in a way that his hurried, desperate reassurals to the press hadn’t.

“What, that’s too far? Comfort? What a shock. You’ve never been great at that, as I recall,” he snaps, seeing the words hit and feeling a perverse sort of glee in seeing their impact. They’re true but unfair. Obie had stepped in and kept the company afloat while Tony himself had made bad choices with miraculous outcomes, over and over again, until he’d pulled himself together enough to head Stark Industries himself. There hadn’t been much time for comfort, and his younger self probably wouldn’t have appreciated it anyway.

“Tony!” Pepper gasps. “You’re-- you’re shaken up. Not yourself.”

The elevator door opens and Tony doesn’t want to look at the room beyond, because the thing he wants --the person he wants to see-- won’t be there. Stane pushes past to stalk into the room, leans down to rest both hands on the desk for a second before spinning around to point directly at him.

“You need to take some time before you put yourself out there again. That was--” he pauses, rubs a hand over his face, and the person that emerges is the exact same jovial, glad-handing executive that had tried to smooth everything over minutes before. “I’m, I’m glad you’re okay. Okay, Tony? I’m glad. But decisions this big after an event like that--”

Tony propels himself out of the elevator fueled primarily by outrage. “After seeing the kind of people who have access to our weapons and moving decisively to stop it? Is that the event you’re referring to?” 

He walks right up to Obie, and it’s only because his arm hurts like hell that he doesn’t reach up and do the thing that Stane always loves to do, adjust Tony’s collar, pat the fabric paternally, like he actually ever gave a fuck. How long has this man used his jolly attitude to cover his contempt? Would Tony have ever realized it without spending time with Yinsen and learning to recognize the practice?

“So, what? That’s it?” Stane asks, holding his hands out and letting them drop with a sound as they strike his leg. “You against the world? There’s no need to do that, Tony, and I gotta tell you, trying to go it alone will just make it easier for people to ignore you. I may be many things to many people, and I’m not good at all of them, I’ll admit it. One thing I am good at? PR. But you brought this down on my head with no warning, and it’s going to take a hell of a lot of goodwill to fix that.” He puffs out a breath and shakes his head, chuckling, once again returning to his True North when dealing with Tony, exasperated amusement. “What’s your over/under on the stock drop for tomorrow, do you think?”

Tony looks over his shoulder to see that Pepper’s settled herself down at the chair beside his desk. She’s got a notebook out on the desk beside her, and there are a few lines written on it, but her hands are in her lap. She is a picture of studied calm. He’s pretty sure she’s taking notes as surreptitiously as possible; it’s exactly what he needs from her, at exactly the moment he needs it. Tony throws her a little smile of gratitude, feeling a tiny sting of guilt when her reaction to seeing such an expression from him is surprise.

That makes him think of Emory too.

“Optimistically? 40 points,” Tony says, working at his tie with one hand. He keeps his body angled in a way that Pepper can’t see what he’s doing, because he doesn’t want her to fret about the brewing argument here, and if she sees him struggle with the tie, she’ll get up to help.

Stane’s eyebrows go up. “At minimum.”  

What follows is a completely reasonable argument on Stane’s part about what’s feasible as a company. Tony remains steadfast, even as he notes Obie’s eyes drifting down to his chest multiple times. Obie clearly knows. If Tony weren’t so worried about Emory, if she were waiting for him at the house and he knew she was safe, he would be making notes about the number of times he has already thought about her so he could make her laugh tonight. She’d be particularly amused about the way he feels almost objectified, how the fact of what he’s carrying on his chest is a weight between himself and Obie, a hidden aspect of the conversation. He wants to ask her if that’s what having breasts like hers is like, wants her to slap him, wants to make it up to her. He just wants.

“I think we should take another look into ARC reactor technology,” Tony interrupts. Obie’s lips turn downward, and he flicks a sheepish glance at Tony’s face like he knows he’s been caught before shaking his head.

“Nah, come on, that was a publicity stunt! We built that thing to shut the hippies up!”

What follows is another conversation full of pushback, but he knows Stane’s just stalling. Finally, they both stop arguing and just level suspicious looks at each other for a full fifteen seconds.

Tony just knows that if he looked over at Pepper, she’d be the very picture of anxiety. He decides to put her out of her misery. “Could you have a lousier poker face? Just tell me, who told you? Rhodey? Or Pepper?”

“Told him what?” Pepper interjects. Tony turns to look at her and she’s wide-eyed, her brows furrowed.

“Rhodey didn’t tell-- You’re kidding, right?” he demands, shocked.

“You were with us the whole time! Harry was driving, I was in the back--”

“Hold on, Harry?” Tony interrupts, bewildered.

Pepper’s face turns bright red. “It’s-- y-ou were gone, Tony. He, the nickname, it, it felt like a farce, neither of us could--”

Tony waves a hand to cut her off. “All right, okay, got it.” Her extreme embarrassment and stuttering response tells Tony that the moment he’d seen on the tarmac might have been something private and meaningful to Happy and Pepper. He sets that world-tilting notion aside for the moment.

Stane rests a heavy hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Show me.”

“All right,” he agrees, releasing the velcro on his sling.

“Tony, what--?” Pepper gets up and comes over, taking the sling before it falls to the floor.

He unbuttons his shirt with the two of them staring at him in amazement. It’s not hard to feel a little bit like Superman when he pulls the two sides open so they can see the reactor more clearly.

“Oh, my God,” Pepper whispers. “Is that… stuck? In your chest?”

He looks from her to Obie. At first, the man’s intrigued, but then his expression shifts. Tony recognizes the look, because it’s the same one Stane has always worn when Tony brought him a schematic, an improvement, an innovation.

Somewhere in the man’s head, a voice is saying, How do we monetize this?

He’d spent years enjoying the process of earning that look in Stane’s eyes, but today it’s concerning.

Next chapter, Tony starts making threats and gathering information to find Emory, and she makes the acquaintance of a man named Nick Fury.