#god i love the lighting in that game engine

[freakurodani]

have we put them in a zombie apocalypse yet?

#atla zombie au #atla #avatar the last airbender #aang #avatar aang #katara #sokka #the gaang #okay but ive been thinking about this all day #i wanna make a comic for them but i had to get their designs #and ive been playing twd games so i HAD to get some insane lighting in #god i love the lighting in that game engine #everthing is at golden hour its so me coded #conspiracy lvl: art #anyway you should ask me about my au :3c

[evansbby]

𝐖𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐☆.｡.:*

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈 - 𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: mean jock!Ari Levinson x naive!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: extreme voyeurism, daddy!kink, drugs (ecstasy), smutt, dd/lg vibes, dubcon, choking, dark Ari, liar Ari, cheater Ari, mean Ari, size difference, innocence kink, naive reader, 18+ only, minors dni!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Finally sick of Ari's lies, you're determined not to fall victim to his charms again.

𝐀/𝐍: This is part 2 of my fic, Wicked Games. Oh, I'm nervous about posting this! Please forgive any mistakes! Major warning for drug use and dubcon smut! Also, we finally find out who the second love interest it! Word count: 14.7k.

Coming to this party was a huge mistake, and you realise that the moment you enter the frat house. The music’s so loud, you can barely hear yourself think. You definitely can’t hear your friend Wanda, who’s excitedly mouthing stuff at you as she hands you a shot. You quickly down it with her before taking in your surroundings: the whole room is dark and packed, with red and black strobe lights thumping along with the music. Bodies writhing at every turn, people laughing, screaming, kissing and more.

And then you see him. Amongst the sea of what feels like a bazillion people, Ari stands heads above them all. The 6’6’’ captain of the basketball team, so handsome in a white shirt that clings snugly to his muscular biceps. Even with a snapback resting backwards on his head, you can still see tufts of his long brown hair curling at the base of his neck. God, did he have to be so goddamn hot?

Of course, he’s staring straight back at you, and you know you should look away. But you stand there, gormless and entranced like a schoolgirl. Watching him take in your body, letting his eyes trail leisurely down your form and drink everything in. He’s a fair distance away from you and half obstructed by dancing bodies, but you somehow still see his pink tongue peak out and run over his lips hungrily as he gazes at you.

Your dress is fire-engine red, daringly short and so form fitting that it barely covers your butt. The material is stretchy, hugging your body as the neckline dips lower than what you’re normally used to. You know Ari recognises the dress by the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down. His eyes are locked in place, taking over your accentuated curves and pushed up cleavage.

He’d seen it in your closet a few weeks ago, and you remember how he’d picked it up and whistled. “What a slutty dress, baby.” He’d said, “Why don’t you put it on for daddy?” And of course, you had. You did anything he asked you to, and you’d never forget how dark his eyes had gotten, and how sombre he’d looked as he’d beckoned you over to his lap, his hands running up and down your body covered in the thin red fabric. “I don’t want you wearing this dress in public, okay baby? Slutty dresses like this are for my eyes only. Promise me you’ll never wear this for anyone else.”

And promise you had, but yet here you were. And you can practically see the smoke billowing out of Ari’s ears, and you can see his jaw clenching as he’s unable to rip his eyes off of you. And you feel almost bad for disobeying him, until you see a pink manicured hand grab Ari’s face and pull him down for a kiss. Sharon. He was here with her. But of course, he was here with her! She was his girlfriend, after all. And you were the gullible fool who he’d strung along the whole time he was with her.

It had only taken you a few days after your last hook-up with Ari in the locker-room to realise that he had not broken up with Sharon like he’d told you he had. You’d seen them together on the campus courtyard, hand-in-hand, Sharon looking happier than ever. She definitely didn’t look like someone whose uncle had just died. Ari had seen you too, and all he could muster up was a sheepish look before his girlfriend had dragged him away.

That had been last week, and since then, he’d been texting you nonstop.

Ari: Baby, it’s not what it looks like. Me and Sharon are just friends now!

Ari: Okay, fine. We got back together. But, baby, it’s only temporary ;) You know you’re my number one girl.

Ari: Send daddy a pic, baby girl ;)

Ari: Okay, I get that you’re mad but you know I don’t like it when you ignore my messages.

Ari: I miss you, baby. Let’s FaceTime soon, okay? Wear something sexy ;)

Ari: Fuck you. I’ve got plenty of other options.

You prided yourself on not answering even one of his texts, despite the fact that you could feel your resolve weakening all week. But you were determined to never speak to him again, and definitely never be his play-thing or side-chick again. And now here you were, at a frat party that you’d let your friend Wanda drag you to. Which you definitely didn’t come just so you could show Ari exactly what he was missing out on. Definitely not…

Tearing your gaze away from the beefy basketball captain, you pour yourself and Wanda another shot each, cringing as the colourless liquid sloshes down your throat. But the burn is a welcome change from the heartache you feel, knowing you’re in the same room as Ari and her. You dare to peak back at them one more time and hate yourself for doing it because now they’re dancing together, although you can see Ari still looking straight at you while his girlfriend’s back is turned.

“C’mon, let’s dance.” You drag Wanda to the dance floor determinedly.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Little Miss Side Chick.” You hear a deep voice in your ear as two heavy hands land on your hips. Wanda has already busied herself with dancing with a guy you vaguely remember from freshman orientation, so you turn around and come face to face with another basketball player. Tall and rugged, hair buzzed off and tattoos smattered all over his chest and arms. Curtis.

“What do you want?” You sneer, because Curtis is Ari’s best friend. And anyone associated with Ari is an enemy to you.

“Whoa, retract your claws, kitten. I’m not looking for a fight.” Curtis smirks, his hands firmly planted on your hips, swaying you along with him to the upbeat music. His body is practically glued to yours, and you can’t help but inhale his manly scent. It’s some type of aftershave that you don’t recognise, but boy does it smell good.

“Well, I don’t care what you’re looking for!” You raise your chin up at him defiantly, despite the fact that he’s more than a head taller than you. “And you can report that back to Ari, okay? And then you and him can both go to hell–Whoops!” You stumble forward in your high heels and cling to the beefy buzzcut-haired man in front of you to regain your balance. Curtis’ hand travels up to the small of your back as he pulls you closer, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Careful, kitty kat.”

“Don’t call me that!”

“But you let Ari call you whatever he wants.” His lips brush against your ear as he whispers, and you can’t help but cling to him. You feel like a small fish in this gigantic pond of a party, and Curtis feels solid as you teeter in your heels. You see the glint in his eye as he flashes you a smile. “I’ve heard you getting fucked, you know.”

You pout, “That’s really pervy, Curtis.”

“Yeah? I feel like you and Levinson both love an audience. You want a drink, kitten?”

 “No!”

“C’mon, you look like you need a drink. I mean, just look at you. Standing in the middle of the dancefloor looking all cute and pouty like a little baby.”

“ ‘m not a baby!”

As if on cue, you pout again. But you let Curtis drag you back to the drinks table, watching in awe as he mixes different things together in a crystal glass he seems to have conjured out of nowhere. Something compels you to look over your shoulder, and you spy Ari from across the room. Sharon’s arms are around his neck but his eyes are still boring holes into you. He’s got a can of beer that he’s currently crushing in his fist, and even in the darkness, you can see his face going red as his lips pull into a sneer.

Oh, he was jealous!

You giggle and give him a wave before pointedly turning back to Curtis and accepting whatever drink he’s just mixed for you.

“A baby drink for a baby like you.” Curtis pulls your cheek condescendingly and you scowl before eyeing the concoction in the glass. It’s a pretty pale pink colour and smells kind of fruity. You look up questioningly at Curtis, who crosses his arms over his chest as he grins like a Cheshire cat. “Go ahead, kitten, it won’t bite. I told you, it’s a baby drink – you wouldn’t even know there’s alcohol in it. Tastes like strawberries and cream.”

“Well… that does sound yummy.” You dip your pinkie finger in the drink and swirl it around, pretending to consider it. Your eyes dart sideways in Ari’s direction once more. And he’s still staring at you, despite the fact that his girlfriend’s all up against him, whispering something in his ear. God, that makes you mad, and you down the drink without a second thought. It goes down your throat easy, with a pleasantly fruity aftertaste. You look up at Curtis and beam.

“You were right! Tasted much better than shots! Could I have another, maybe?” You bat your lashes at him and he smirks. But he makes you another one, and you down it quickly, trying to flush away any thoughts of Ari and Sharon out of your mind. Screw both of them!

“Easy there, kitty kat. It’s a drink, you don’t have to down it like a shot.” Curtis grins, and it’s only when you feel his arm around your waist that you realise you’ve fallen into him again. Whatever he’d put in your drinks seems to already be hitting you, but you don’t care, don’t care, don’t care! And Curtis’ thumb rubbing circles on your hip feel kind of nice, and so you let him hold you as you sway, blinking rapidly as the alcohol mingles into your bloodstream.

“You know, kitten, there’s a bunch of empty rooms upstairs. Maybe we could find one ‘em so you can lie down for a while?” Curtis whispers beguilingly in your ear, his lips brushing against your skin and making you shiver in your tiny dress. He casually plays with the flimsy straps, pushing one down and exposing your shoulder. A second later you feel his lips press against your exposed skin, making your heart jump with thrill. There’s something hard poking against your stomach, and you giggle and bite your lip.

“Don’t think I can get up the stairs, Curtis. Can’t even… Can’t even stand up straight!” He’s supporting most of your body weight as you lean heavily into him, loving the feel of strong, beefy arms around you. It’s dark enough that you can almost imagine they belong to someone else…

“Don’t worry, kitten, I’ll carry you up there. Babies like you are meant to be carried, right? And I want to hear you scream like you did for Levinson in the locker room.”

You barely have a chance to consider his proposition before you feel a heavy hand grab your arm and pull you backwards. You stumble in your high heels before your back collides with a very solid, very sturdy chest.

“She’s off limits, Curtis. You know that.” Ari’s voice is low but firm, and you turn to see the captain of the basketball team glaring daggers at his teammate and best friend, his brows furrowed and lips set in a thin line. His fingers are curled around your upper arm, not showing any signs of letting go as he looms formidably like a giant by your side. Sharon’s nowhere to be found.

“Oh yeah? You finally ready to jump ship from one girl to the next, Ari?” Curtis grins, wholly unperturbed as he pops open a can of beer and takes a long swig.

“Very funny, asshole. Go find someone else to take advantage of.” Ari says wryly, still holding you with an iron grip while you gape at both of them. And a part of you – an admittedly pathetic part of you – is thrilled that Ari’s come over to you now. Clearly, he was affected by you talking to his best friend, and that makes you feel special.

Surprisingly, Curtis backs off easily, slinking off into the party like a panther. The crowd swallows him up, and you watch him go for a moment before the crushing grip gets even tighter. You hear a rumble from Ari’s chest as he mauls you to a dim corner of the room. It’s still packed with people, but he manages to prop you up in a dark spot, his palms slamming against the wall on either side of you, trapping you against it.

“Well, well, well. Look who showed up to the party.” Ari sneers, pressing his considerably larger frame against yours. “And you’re drunk already. Hasn’t anyone told you not to accept drinks from strangers?”

You blink up at him, feeling slower and more sluggish than usual thanks to Curtis’ magic drink in your system. But then his words hit you and you scowl, craning your neck to look up at him despite the fact that you’re in heels.

“Curtis isn’t a stranger, he’s my friend!” (You’ve conveniently forgotten the fact that you’d sworn that any friend of Ari’s was an enemy of yours).

Ari scoffs, “He’s not your friend. You’re not allowed to be friends with boys.”

You stick your chin up at him, “Oh yeah? Says who?”

The huge basketball player drives his pelvis into you with force, his clothed erection rutting against your stomach and making your eyes pop wide open and a gasp dies somewhere in your throat.

He smirks, “Says your daddy.”

Beyond Ari’s broad shoulder, you can see the party commencing in full force. The DJ’s switched to a more R&B centric playlist, and the whole room reverberates with the sounds of heavy bass and sexy crooning lyrics. Couples find each other on the dancefloor, strangers join together like magnets. Swaying and grinding and groping each other in the dark.

You blink several times before refocusing your gaze on Ari, trying not to get lost in his eyes or his smell or just how big and manly he is compared to you. No. You had to stay strong and you had to stay away from him. He was trouble with a capital T, and there was no way you were going to let him get away with cornering you at this party – not after all the lies he’d fed you about breaking up with his girlfriend. Not after he’d strung you along for weeks…

“Fuck off, Ari! You have no right to tell me who I can or can’t be friends with! Now just… Just fuck off and go back to your girlfriend an’ leave me alone!” Your palms land on his chest and you push with all your might. Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t budge an inch. In fact, he yawns pointedly, infuriating you further as you continue to push his huge, muscular body off of you.

“Please. You thrive on my attention, baby. That’s why you’re wearing this slutty dress and flirting with my best friend.” He says matter-of-factly, making your blood boil and your jaw drop open indignantly.

“Don’t want your attention!”

“Babies like you need attention.” Ari tells you, saying each word slowly as if you truly are a dumb baby who doesn’t understand anything. One of his hands meanders upwards, casually twining a piece of your hair around his finger, “Or else you’ll cry and throw a tantrum. And we don’t want the little baby to throw a tantrum, do we?”

You can’t believe his cockiness! Before you know what you’re doing, you punch him straight in the chest. Hard. But Ari just looks down at you bemusedly. In fact, he looks bored, and that infuriates you even more. And on top of everything else, now your hand hurts and you feel your eyes well with tears.

“Aww, did the little baby hurt herself?” Ari teases, patting your cheek condescendingly. You sniffle and try to swat him away but he’s too quick, too strong. You’re helpless, stuck against his big, hard body and the wall behind your back and he knows it as he smirks. “Poor little baby, don’t cry or throw a tantrum. You’ve got my attention now, haven’t you? And that’s what you wanted.”

“No, I didn’t–!”

He cuts you off with a rough kiss, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. Even in your heels, he still has to lift you up so he can kiss you properly without you having to crane your neck too much because of his height. And so he grabs your hips and hoists you up against the wall, your bare legs dangling on either side of him as he consumes you with a kiss that seems riddled in possessiveness. Until you bang your fists on his shoulders enough times for him to pull away.

“How…How dare you kiss me! When your girlfriend’s at the same party!” You accuse, despite the fact that your heart is racing and lips are tingling and you really want him to kiss you again.

Ari shrugs, still looking bored. “She went to the bathroom with a bunch of her girlfriends to fix her makeup or something. And you know how girls are with the bathroom, they’ll stay in there for ages.” He pulls you snug against him, “Gives us a bit of time to have fun, baby.”

“You’re a man-whore, Ari.”

He snorts, “And you’re lucky you still have my attention, baby girl.”

Your jaw drops open, “You’re the one who’s been texting me nonstop since last week!”

“Just so you wouldn’t feel bad.”

You can’t believe him. Huffing, you try to push past him and storm off. Which proves to be impossible considering he’s still got you lifted up against the wall, his leg snug between your thighs. And even if you were in a position to exit the situation, he was way too big and strong and could easily stop you. Ugh. (But not really because that pathetic part of you really is enjoying the attention he’s giving you right now).

“You look so hot tonight, baby girl.” Ari mutters as he starts kissing at you again. First, he tries your lips. But you’re still stubborn, still mad at him and so you turn your head. That’s not a problem for him, his lips pressing down against your cheek, down to your jaw, then your neck. His hands come up to brazenly squeeze your breasts, making you gasp. “This is some dress. Luckily, attention-seeking baby suits you well.”

“Stop callin’ me a baby!”

He gives your ass a hard smack, smirking when you yelp. You thank your lucky stars that it’s too dark and crowded and noisy for anyone around you to notice how indecent he’s being.

“Oh, so you’re a big girl now, huh?”

“Let go of me so I can go have fun with Wanda–” You once more try to elbow him out of the way but of course, he holds you at bay easily.

“Stay put.” He growls, giving your ass another smack. “And answer my question. I asked you if you’re a big girl now.”

You stick your chin up, “Yes, I am.”

The brunet grins wolfishly. And you’re too tipsy to even notice how, but he suddenly conjures up a tiny translucent plastic baggie, waving it in front of your face. Your eyes take a few seconds to focus on the light blue pills sitting inside, shimmering enticingly as the strobe lights land on them. They’ve got designs printed on them, but you’re way too tipsy to decipher what they are.

“If you’re such a big girl, then you’ll have no problem having some of this big girl candy that daddy got specially for you.”

Your heart lurches. Sure, you’re tipsy as hell right now. But you’re certain you know what those pills are… don’t you? And maybe it isn’t the best idea for you to take your first ecstasy pill with only Ari of all people there with you. But what does it matter? When he’s slowly grinding his thigh up between your legs, one of his hands groping all over your body and pressing up your dress?

“I… uh… I dunno, Ari…”

He takes one tablet out before shoving the baggie into his pocket.

“C’mon. Prove you’re a big girl and take one.”

Every sane cell in your body is screaming at you not to, but it seems like you’re not only drunk off alcohol, but also off of his touch and attention.

Ari’s thumb trails across your lower lip, stroking it gently before tipping it open. You watch him, slack-jawed and in awe, as he slowly brings the blue tablet up to his own lips. He holds it between his teeth before he dips his head and catches your lips in a deep kiss, transferring the pill into your mouth. It rests on your tongue for a second before you gather your saliva and swallow it quickly, wanting to prove to him that you were indeed a big girl.

I’ll just let him kiss me for a while and then I’ll leave, you tell yourself, sighing as he peppers butterfly-light kisses all over your neck and shoulder. He pushes the strap of your dress down, much like how Curtis had done earlier. And all you can think about is how good it feels when Ari does it, when he touches you like how no one else could. Not that you’d ever had anyone else – since Ari was your first. And you fear that no one else would ever compare…

Suddenly, the strobe lights seem so bright, so close. The music feels like it’s coming out from inside you, like The Weeknd is literally belting out his sexy lyrics from inside you. The lights hit Ari’s face, making him look so big and bright, shiny like a diamond. And so close, so sexy. God, he’s so sexy… And you feel sexy too, like the sexiest person in this room, in your sexy red dress with this giant of a man in front of you.

“Wanna kiss you, daddy.”

He smirks against the nape of your neck before straightening up, “Kiss me, then.”

You try, but he’s too tall. Fuck, you really want to kiss him all of a sudden.

“Can’t. I’m too small.” But you don’t feel small. Just the opposite, actually. You feel like you’re on top of the world, like you’re the most beautiful, most incredible person in this universe. You wind your arms around his neck, “Lift me up. Wanna kiss you.”

He’s already got you propped up with his knee jammed between your legs, but for once he makes no smart comment. He wraps his huge hands around your waist and lifting you up. And it feels like you’re as high as the empire state building. No, the moon! Your heart’s soaring and so is your head, your body’s buzzing, the music’s switched up to something even more sexy, and that’s when you kiss him.

“Good girl,” he praises against your lips, but all you can focus on is how good it feels to have his lips on yours, how good it feels that his hands are back on your body, touching you everywhere. “You’re such a good little girl, you know that?”

“Better than Sharon?”

“Of course, baby girl. I don’t care about Sharon. Only you.”

Firmly holding you against the wall, he pushes your dress up till the tight material is practically around your waist. And who cares, who cares, who cares?! Not you, not when his hands glide up your bare thighs, spreading them before cupping your pussy through the lace of your panties.

“These are pretty, baby. Did daddy buy you these?”

“No,” you lie. Of course, he’d bought them for you. Ari loved buying you lingerie. Often, he’d have it delivered to your dorm room with a special note telling you to take pictures and send them to him. Sometimes, he’d send other things along with the lingerie. Like once, he’d sent this sex toy – a dildo which was almost as big as his dick. And there was a note too, ordering you to put on the lingerie and facetime him immediately. He’d made you fuck yourself on the dildo repeatedly that night, all while you thanked daddy over and over again for your new toy and lingerie set. All while he sat in the comfort of his own dorm room, smoking a cigarette with a smirk on his face, casually pumping his dick and getting off on your humiliation and total submission. Well, you got off on it too.

Now, it only takes a tug of his wrist and your panties are slipping down your legs. They get caught in your heels and you impatiently shake them off, watching the lace as it lays on the ground. That’s when you feel a rush of air against your bare pussy, now only concealed by the flimsy material of your dress.

“God, Levinson, she looks wasted as fuck!”

You vaguely hear someone say that, but you feel like you are lightyears away from everyone else. As if you and Ari are on your very own planet where only the two of you matter.

As if on cue, Ari presses his clothed crotch against your bare pussy, grinding the denim up and down while you pant in his arms. God, you want him so bad.

“Bad little baby, you got my jeans all wet in the middle of a party.” Ari scolds. But you pay him no heed, instead busying yourself with kissing up his collarbone and smelling his manly cologne, feeling his muscles that ripple through his shirt.

“You’re so big and strong,” you murmur, saying exactly what you’re thinking like you have no filter.

Ari puffs his chest out, “I am, aren’t I? Especially compared to a little baby girl like you.” He drives his crotch against your bare pussy once more, lewdly grinding against you till the denim is soaking wet. And oh, the rough material feels so good against your clit, so good that you don’t even care that he’s dry humping you in the middle of a party with so many people around you.

His hand slips up to grab your hair, and he yanks you up roughly so he can put his lips to your ear, “You’re my little baby princess, aren’t you?”

A shiver runs down your spine. You like the sound of that.

“Y-Yeah, I am!”

 “You like how much bigger I am than you?” He licks the shell of your ear.

“Ah – yes!”

“And you’ll do anything I tell you, won’t you? Because you’re just a baby and you need daddy to guide you. Right?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” You rut against him desperately, hoping he’ll carry you up to a bedroom and fuck you hard. It’s not like you’d be able to walk by yourself. Hell, you can’t even stand by yourself right now, which was why he was holding you up like you were a ragdoll. In the midst of a sea of people, but all you can focus on is Ari. And how high you feel, like you’re as light as a feather, as free as a bird who welcomes the cage of his grip.

You watch as he undoes his fly, pulling his hard cock out of his jeans. Your eyes nearly bug out of your head at how brazenly he does it – in a room full of people, no less! But you lick your lips, feeling your pussy clench at how fat and thick his cock looks under the pulsating lights. God, he was so big everywhere!

“So if I tell you that daddy wants to fuck his little girl in front of everyone right now, you’d say yes, wouldn’t you?”

You lick your lips, lust pulsing through every vein in your body. You’re already humping against him like a wanton whore, loving the feel of his bare cock gliding against your slippery slit in a room full of people.

“M-Maybe we can we go upstairs, daddy?”

“No. Here. C’mon, baby, you know you want to.” He nibbles on your ear, “I’ll make you my girlfriend if you do this for me.”

Your heart lifts, your mind feeling euphoric at the idea of that. And you believe him, of course you believe him! How could you not, when you’re feeling so on top of the world right now? Heart beating so fast, blood pumping even faster… And he said he’d make you his girlfriend! Oh, you wanted that so badly! You’d do anything to be his girlfriend, anything at all…

“O-Okay, daddy, I guess you can– AH, FUCK!”

He pistons his dick inside you in one quick movement, holding your hips firmly in place so you don’t fall over from the sheer force of him forcing his fat dick into your tiny, leaking hole. God, he was so big. You’d never get used to it.

“Good baby,” he smirks. There are waves of people around you – an entire crowd of sweaty, writhing bodies. But all you can feel is Ari, his cock so big and imposing yet your pussy swallows him readily as he bottoms out inside you. Grabbing your face, he kisses you possessively, and you can feel his cocky smirk through the kiss, “fuck yeah, just as tight as always. God, I missed my little pussy.”

Being fucked by Ari in the middle of the dancefloor of a frat party, drunk and high off your mind while his girlfriend was somewhere in this house. It wasn’t how you’d planned your night to go at all, but you cling to Ari like a koala, allowing him to control your body and take pleasure from you. You can hear him groaning as he fucks you slowly, trying to cover your body completely with his. You can hear him grimace, mutter how fucking tight you are as he tries to hold back from tearing your pussy apart like how he usually does when the two of you are alone.

“Not such a big girl now, are you?” he mocks, biting at your bottom lip and sucking on it as his dick drives slowly in and out of you. “Getting fucked in the middle of a party because you can’t ever say no to me, huh?”

“Nngh, Ari please. F-Feel so full,” you moan, never wanting him to stop. Maybe you’d regret this later, but right now it’s like you’re in a bubble of pleasure that has you ignoring the real world around you.

“And the fact that you thought you could make me jealous by talking to Curtis,” Ari huffs, giving you a particularly hard thrust that sends you reeling, and you bite down on his shoulder to keep from screaming at the top of your lungs. “What a pathetic little game you played, baby. But I’ll never get jealous, because I already know I own you. And you know it too. I own your fucking pussy.”

“Yes, yes, yes!” You gasp, feeling him so deep inside you, it’s like he’s practically in your womb. You wrap your legs tighter around him, grinding your clit against his hairy abdomen. The sensation feels heavenly, and you’re so, so close…

“Promise me you’ll never fucking speak to Curtis again,” he demands.

“Fuck me harder, daddy–OW!”

He slaps your ass hard, and you reel into him, shocked at the blow. You’d have fallen over if he wasn’t holding you up in his muscular arms.

“Fucking say you’ll never speak to Curtis again,” Ari says through gritted teeth, and his fingers wrap around your throat. Your breath hitches, eyes widening. But your pussy squeezes around his dick at the same time his hand squeezes your throat, “Say it or I’ll choke you the fuck out.”

Fear splices through the euphoria you’re feeling, but his hand constricting around your throat, him controlling your breathing – it turns you on so fucking much at the same time. But his eyes look so dark, darker than you’ve ever seen them. Is it because he’s high too? Or is it something else entirely?

“W-Won’t talk to him,” you promise, barely getting the words out.

Ari smiles and releases your throat, and you desperately gasp for breath. But when he kisses you again, you can’t help but hungrily kiss him back.

“I own you,” he repeats, slipping his hand down to play with your clit, pushing your dress up in the process. You’re high out of your mind and yet you still try to push the hem of your dress back down, only for him to slap your hands away. “Don’t hide this baby pussy from me, sweetheart.”

“E-Everyone can see,” you moan, breath hitching when he pinches your clit harshly before rubbing circles on it.

“Let them watch, baby.”

As if on cue, you hear someone whistle:

“You’re a fucking dog, Levinson! Can’t even wait to find a room to get your dick wet, huh?”

“She looks high off her ass, bro. Classic Levinson.”

Ari only laughs, continuing to fuck you and make out with you in the middle of the party as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to be doing. And if he’s okay with it, then it must be okay, right?

“This is what happens when you come to a party trying to be an attention-seeker,” he tells you, his fingers leaving your clit as he brings them up to his mouth, sucking noisily, “fuck, you taste so good, sweetheart. Your little baby pussy’s been wet for me all night, huh?”

“Yes, daddy,” you say dutifully, meeting his thrusts now as you feel yourself getting close. You continue grinding your clit on his hairy abs as he fucks you, the sensation so heavenly as you teeter on the edge of your orgasm, blabbering out your inner thoughts: “I…I think about you all the time, want you all the time. Wish you were with me all the time….”

“Mm, it gets you all wet, doesn’t it? Fucking a man who’s got a girlfriend?”

You gasp, but your walls clench around him all the same.

“Mm, I felt that, you slutty little baby,” Ari smacks your ass again, rocking his hips hard against you as you cry from the pleasure, “It turns you on that I have a girlfriend and yet I’m here with you, fucking you in front of all these people like you’re my personal fucking whore.”

“Ari, I’m so close, I–”

 “Bet you wish she was watching us, huh?” He says suddenly, “I bet that would get you off, wouldn’t it, you dirty little slut?”

“Nooo,” you moan, but you can feel thrills rippling through your body, your pleasure mounting higher and higher as the music drones on all around you.

Ari licks his lips like he’s the devil himself, “Don’t fucking lie to me, sweetheart. I bet you wish Sharon was here, watching me fuck you.” His eyes glint wickedly, “Bet you wish she was getting herself off to us, don’t you? Fingering herself while she watches her boyfriend cheat on her with a slutty little girl like you.”

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Mm, and what would you do? Cry your little baby tears and beg for her forgiveness?” Ari chuckles lowly, and you can’t believe you’re on the brink of orgasm and about to lose it and he’s just there, calm as ever as he fucks you in this room full of people. Forcing his big, fat cock inside you with a smirk on his face as if he owns the whole room. “You’d beg for my girlfriend’s forgiveness while you take my fat fucking cock inside your sexy little pussy. And she’d watch us, watch me call you a bad fucking girl while I fuck you so hard that I’d probably knock you up. And I’ve never fucked her like that, baby. I would never fuck her like that. Only you.”

“Daddy, please,” you sob and sob, clutching at his shirt because you feel so overwhelmed.

He grabs your face roughly, making you look at him.

“And you’d watch her rub her pussy as she watches us fuck, wouldn’t you? And she’d cum all over her fingers, watching her boyfriend fuck the living daylights out of you, watching you be a helpless little slut for your daddy. And you’d love every second of it, baby. Because you’re fucking sick, just like me…”

Your orgasm is earth-shattering, breaking your body apart as you squirt all over his huge fucking dick. And he fucks you through it, coaxing your cream out of you as you cry and cry, any sound you make getting drowned out by the blaring music, any thrashing movement blurred by the dancing bodies around you. Some of them know what’s going on, you know they do. But others don’t, lost in their own world as they dance around the two of you. And waves of searing pleasure overtake your body, over and over again as you grind up against him.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” Ari grunts, “cum on my daddy dick like the good little baby you are. God, fuck, you’re squeezin’ me so good, baby, feels so tight and sexy. Gimme another one.”

You cum again, as if your body is programmed to listen to him, as if just his words can make you orgasm. And that’s when he blows his load, muttering a string of curses as he empties himself inside you. He always came inside you, no matter what. And you guessed that he wasn’t going to stop that streak now, even in the midst of a crowded party. One or two guys are ogling at the two of you, but you’re too fucked out to care, your spent body sagging against Ari’s huge frame as he fills you up with his hot cum.

Everything is blurry for a while after that. You’re on the brink of passing out – not even from the copious amounts of drugs and alcohol in your system, but from how fucked out you feel. But you jolt out of it when Ari pulls out of you, whining needily but he ignores you. Instead, he pulls your dress back down over your ass, and you can feel his hot cum trickling down your thigh.

“How was she, Levinson?” Some guy pipes up from within the crowd.

“Move along, smartass.” Ari glares daggers at the random guy, flipping him off as he shields your body with his bigger one. But there are more guys surrounding you, more people beginning to notice what exactly is going on. Ari seems to catch on to this too, shooting dirty looks all around him as he tries to tug your short dress down even further to cover you more, as if he was fuelled by horniness before but now that he’s come down from that high, he’s hyperaware of everyone around you.

“Can’t feel my legs, daddy,” you lean heavily against him.

He picks you back up, carrying you through the crowd. You can vaguely hear the voices of other boys over the loud, pounding music. Thumping Ari on the back, congratulating him. You hide your face in his chest, trying not to think about what’s just happened. He takes you up the stairs, through random corridors, into an empty bedroom, and finally, a bathroom.

“Fuck, baby, you okay?” He asks after setting you down on the sink.

“I’m good,” you grab at him, trying to wrap your legs around him and pull him into you. You can still feel the effects of the little blue pill, and you try to kiss him but he pulls away, chuckling.

“We need to clean you up.”

Funny. He never cleaned you up before. In the past, he’d always fuck you hard and good and then leave you to get yourself together while he typed away on his phone or went outside to smoke. Then, he’d either come back inside to fuck you again, or he’d give you a quick kiss and leave, telling you he was late for practice or something along those lines. But right now, it looks like he was sticking around, and that makes your heart skip a beat.

“I can’t believe I just let you fuck me in front of everyone. It almost doesn’t feel real!” You muse out loud, wondering maybe it was all just a dream, because you feel so hazy and warm. You swing your heel clad feet, accidentally catching him in the stomach. He shoots you a warning look, grabbing your calves to still you before his expression relaxes.

“It’s what you deserved for ignoring my texts.” He smirks before grabbing a wad of toilet paper. He wets some of it under the tap and swipes at your thighs, cleaning his cum off you. You bite your lip, watching his tanned biceps ripple as he gets dangerously close to your pussy. You grab his wrist, pushing it between your legs.

“I think you missed a spot, daddy,” you say in what you hope is a demure and sexy manner.

Ari groans, “Don’t tempt me, baby girl.”

He feels around your folds, licking his lips as he plays with the mess he’s left in your pussy. But you whine after a while, clearly too sensitive for round two so you push his hand away.

“Lemme feel you,” he persists.

“Nuh uh, too sensitive.”

He rolls his eyes and you giggle, reaching out to smooth his long hair, twining a few strands around your finger. You stay like that for a while, liking how he looks at you in the privacy of this bathroom, where the music from outside is still thumping softly and yet it feels like the two of you are in your own bubble. Where the dull orange light makes him look double handsome, and it’s just the two of you and you can pretend he’s your boyfriend and you’re a happy couple and it’s the best feeling in the world.

Until Ari’s hand slips down between your legs again.

“Hey!” You squeal, batting him off, but he doesn’t relent.

“Let daddy feel you one more time, baby girl,” he tries to sweet talk you, but you shake your head, pushing him away again. That’s when he gets a glint in his eye, digging his fingers into your ribs instead. You squeal as he tickles you, and you try to do it back but clearly, he isn’t as ticklish as you because he just shoots you an amused look. You laugh and laugh, till you can’t breathe and even he chuckles, his face pink.

“Ari, will I be your girlfriend now?” You ask in a small voice once you’ve stopped laughing.

A pause. And then he sighs.

“Baby, we already have a good thing going–”

“So then why can’t we go out on dates and do all the romantic things that boyfriends and girlfriends do?” Your lower lip wobbles but you will yourself to remain calm and collected.

“You know why.” Ari avoids your gaze, backing up and gathering all the toilet paper he’s just used. He stuffs it into the bin before washing his hands, and the whole time you look at him, waiting for him to elaborate except he says nothing more.

“B-But I let you fuck me in front of everyone,” you scrunch your eyes shut to keep your tears at bay, “I let you do anything to me, Ari. And you keep telling me that you’ll make me your girlfriend but it never happens. An’ I trust you more than anything even though you keep lying to me, and–”

He clears his throat, running his hands through his hair before he reaches out as if to cup your face. But at the last second he holds back, fists curled to his sides. “Don’t do this right now. Look, I’ll get you some water to sober you up, then you can call your friend Carla–”

“Her name is Wanda.”

“Call your friend Wanda, and maybe she can take you home. You’re completely wasted.” He can’t help but reach out, fixing the strap of your dress which you hadn’t even noticed had slipped down your shoulder. God, you were a mess. A complete and utter mess and he’d used you again and now he wanted nothing to do with you. His fingers linger, brushing against your bare shoulder before he snatches his hand back and clears his throat once more.

“Is it because I’m not good enough?” A lone tear drips down your cheek. And it’s crazy because not even a minute ago you were laughing your ass off.

“No–”

“Then why does it feel like you’re using me?”

No one speaks for several seconds. All you can hear is your own breathing, how you hiccup every now and then. How your head is beginning to pound and how all your emotion seem amplified. You know it’s because you’re drunk, and yet you’re hoping you may get something sincere from him in this bathroom right now…

But Ari only shakes his head, keeping his eyes trained somewhere beyond your shoulder, as if he can’t seem to look you in the eye…

“Now’s not the time to talk about this–”

“You lie to me all the time, Ari, and you always take me for granted. An’ I fall for it every time because I wanna be your girlfriend so bad…” Your voice falters, lip curling and tears welling in your eyes, “I really, really like you, Ari. Don’t you like me too? Enough to make me your girlfriend?”

“I already have a girlfriend…” He blurts out.

His words hit you like shards of glass, piercing you from the inside out. You feel like you’re falling, and even Ari looks guilty, as if he can’t believe he’s just said that so abruptly. He’s always come up with a story when it comes to his relationship; “we broke up,” or “we’re having problems,” or “she’s a bitch, I don’t care about her.” But it seems like now, he’s really just laying it all out on the table. She’s his girlfriend. And she always would be.

You bow your head, feeling like a veil’s lifted somewhere between the two of you. “I guess that just makes me the girl you keep around for easy sex.”

“You know it’s more than that, baby–”

His phone rings at that exact moment, cutting him off. But he looks relieved to be interrupted, and hastily fishes it out of his pocket. You sigh, staring down dejectedly into your lap. He keeps his voice low as he talks on the phone, but you catch a few words here and there, like “Sharon,” and “she’s looking for you.”

“Baby, I gotta go. But I want you to stay in here until you’re sober enough to go find your friend.” Ari says, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

“Y-You’re leaving?”

A pause.

“Yes.”

Another tear trickles down your cheek.

“Please stay with me. I don’t wanna be alone right now.” He’s left you after sex many times before, but this time feels different. You feel vulnerable, small, afraid. Little you in this big party where you’d only feel safe if you were with him. God, it felt so special whenever it was just you and him alone together. Like right now, in the bathroom, where he’d carried you up in his arms, cleaned you himself and laughed while he tickled you. Oh, it felt so special to you! Could he not feel that too? Why did he want to leave?

Ari inhales deeply, “Don’t, okay? You know I can’t stay. Sharon… She’s making a scene. She’s really drunk, people are starting to notice I’m not there with her–”

“I’m really drunk too.” And high.

He pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, “That’s why you’re getting so emotional, okay? Just… Just call Wanda. Or one of your other friends.”

His words sting, and you know you should just back off. Let him do whatever the fuck he wants to do since clearly all he wanted was to get away from you. But neediness and sorrow clouds your brain and covers your heart, and in a last ditch effort, you reach out to grab his hand.

“Please stay,” you beg, and you feel like you’ve swallowed your pride but you don’t even care anymore, “Please, Ari. Y-You don’t have to make me your girlfriend, okay? I’m sorry I brought it up. Please, just stay with me. Don’t leave me alone, please, please, please–”

“Stop,” he says gently, peeling your hand off of his, “don’t make this bigger than it is. We hooked up like we always do, but I need to go now, okay? I’ll text you later.”

He backs away, pausing at the door. Hope fills your heart, and you wait with bated breath. But then he leaves, walking out casually like all he’s done is use the bathroom. And you sit there, his rejection like poison in your veins. Frozen, drunk, sad, dejected. Oh God, had you really expected him to stay? To be different this time? How many more times were you going to let him lie to you, disrespect you, embarrass you, play you?

How many more times till he broke you completely?

***

“C’mon, Wanda, pick the fuck up.” You mutter, jabbing at your phone in annoyance. The screen freezes for several seconds, before your call goes to her voice message. For the fourth time in a row. You bite your lip, daring to check your battery. Five percent. Great. Just Great.

 After Ari had left you in the bathroom, all you’d wanted to do was curl up in the bathtub and cry the whole night away. And that’s what you’d been doing for at least an hour, until some horny couple barged in and started having sex against the sink. You’drun out of there in a hurry, and now here you were at the front of the frat house, wanting nothing more than to go home.

“Where the hell are you, Wanda?” You murmur, calling her again and praying to God your phone battery lasts until you find her. You were still drunk and not exactly capable of combing through the crowd of people in search of your friend. When she doesn’t pick up again, you feel a helplessness take over your body, like it had back in the bathroom. All you want to do is collapse down on the grass and cry like a baby, but you will yourself to persevere before you try calling her again.

“Excuse me, sweetheart. Are you okay?”

The voice is deep and rumbling, with an undertone of amusement. You don’t even bother looking up from your phone, your eyes too busy staring down your battery percentage as it lowers down to three percent.

“I’m fine,” you say distractedly, trying to walk further away from the frat house in hopes of getting better signal. “I’m just trying to call my friend so we can go ho–”

Your heel catches against a rock on the grass, sending you flying. You brace yourself for the fall but it never comes. Instead, you feel two strong arms wrap around your waist, catching you and pulling you back till you collide against a hard chest.

“Careful, baby,” the amused voice murmurs in your ear.

“Oh, um, thank you, uh–” You straighten up and turn around to face the stranger who’d saved you, finding yourself face to face with a built looking chest wearing an off-white t-shirt and varsity jacket. You crane your neck upwards, breath catching in your throat at what you see.

The stranger is tall and blonde, his pale skin shimmering in the moonlight (probably because you’re drunk because that’s what it looked like). His muscles ripple under his shirt, and he runs his hand through his hair in a way that’s all too familiar. His blue eyes sparkle as he smiles down at you, his arms still around your waist as if to hold you steady.

“Wow,” you say dumbly. He was handsome!

He smirks down at you, “Sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t quite catch that?” He had an effortless way of speaking, like a relaxed drawl as if he was far removed from all the craziness of the party going on around him.

“I – uh – I said thanks,” you babble, “thanks for saving me.”

“You’re welcome. What’s your name?”

You tell him, trying to keep your words from slurring because of the damned alcohol still pumping in your system. You’re acutely aware of his arms still around you, and the fact that your heart is beating fast and hard as you look up at him almost in awe. In your inebriated state, his pale colouring made it look like there was a halo around him (either that or a streetlight was shining directly at him), but it made him look almost angelically handsome.

“I’m Steve.” He says, confidently reaching out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, “What’s a cute little thing like you doing out by yourself so late at night?”

You stick your chin up indignantly, “Not by myself! I’m looking for Wanda!”

“Who’s that, sweetheart?”

“My best friend.”

“Well, she isn’t much of a best friend if she left you all alone at this party, is she?”

Steve cocks his head to the side, a crooked smile on his face that’s so attractive it makes you swoon inwardly, despite what he was implying.

“She didn’t leave me, Steve! She’s just…” you helplessly scan through the groups of people that have spilled out into the front yard of the frat house, “she’s around here somewhere…” Your eyes suddenly snap back over to the blonde, suspicion overtaking you. Who exactly was this guy, and where had he just appeared from, looking all handsome and angelic?

“Do you…uh…do you go to St. Andrews’ too?” You hardly know everyone on campus, seeing as your college is massive and there’s way too many people that go there. But you’re sure you’d remember seeing someone as handsome as him.

“Nope, I go to St. Jude’s.”

Oh. The enemy college. At least according to Ari (who was the main source of most of your information since he knew everything). Ari hated St Jude’s’ basketball team, as they were the main rivals of his own basketball team. You weren’t much into sports or any of that (you only attended Ari’s basketball games to look cute and get his attention), but you suddenly recognise St. Jude’s distinctive blue and white coloured varsity jacket that Steve has on. It resembles Ari’s varsity jacket – which is red and gold for St. Andrew’s.

“What’re you doing here, then?” You ask.

Steve shrugs, “Me and my buddies come to your parties every now and then…” he nods at two other guys in similar varsity jackets. They stand across the lawn from the two of you, talking to a bunch of girls. You look at them for a few seconds before Steve clears his throat, as if he wants you to look at him and him only.

“I think the real question is, sweetheart, what are you doing here?”

You frown, “What do you mean?”

“What’s a baby like you doing all alone at a frat house this late?” His thumb strokes your bare arm, his other hand still firm on your waist. “You’re too cute and innocent for a party like this, the frat boys will eat you alive.”

His eyes glint as he says it, but you presume that’s just you imagining things because you’re drunk.

“Well actually, I’m not a baby and I wasn’t alone,” you try not to hyper-focus on his thumb circling against your skin, “I was with Wanda, and then I was with Ari, and then–”

Steve’s grip tightens, “Ari?”

“Yeah, Ari. He’s my boyfr– Well no, actually he’s my nothing. He’s no one…” you sigh sadly, “I’m no one to him and he’s no one to me…He made that pretty clear tonight.”

The blonde whistles lowly, his hand still rubbing soothingly up and down your arm. And you kind of don’t want him to stop, because he feels so warm and he’s making you feel warm and it’s making you hurt a teensy bit less.

“A pretty little girl like you doesn’t deserve to get her heart broken like that,” Steve comments, “and you don’t deserve to be left alone to cry by yourself either.”

“W-Wasn’t crying!” you lie. God, he was making you sound so pathetic.

He weaves you through the crowd, his grip on you tight as he walks you over to a more secluded area of the front yard. With less people around, his arms catch around your waist and he yanks you closer to him, till you’re flush against his chest, your eyes wide as you look up at him and swallow hard.

“My point still stands,” he says, his voice so confident and velvety smooth. “Now, if you were my girl, you wouldn’t even be allowed to step foot inside a party like this, let alone be left unattended.”

A thrill ripples down your spine, but you barely have time to acknowledge it before you feel a rough grip on your wrist, yanking you away from Steve with heavy force.

“What the hell is this?!” Ari growls, pushing you behind his own body before he squares up to Steve. You gape over at both men, looking from one to the other. Ari was the biggest guy you knew, but Steve matched him in both height and stature. Head-to-head, the two men stare the other down, almost as if they already know each other. Side by side, you notice they look kind of similar. Both of them were tall and bulky, with vivid blue eyes. But Steve was angelically blonde and pale, and Ari was tanner, rougher, darker. Steve looked calm, unperturbed by the interruption – but Ari looked pissed off beyond belief.

“What are you doing here, Rogers?” He seethes.

Steve smirks, “I wasn’t aware that you owned this frat house, Ari.”

“Cut the bullshit. You know you’re not welcome here. Just because your own college parties are filled with ugly sluts doesn’t mean you have to come to mine.”

“Yours? And who exactly put you in charge?”

Steve steps closer as if to challenge Ari, but Ari just glowers at him before shaking his head.

“Do whatever the fuck you want, Steve. But she’s off limits. Everyone here knows she’s mine.” Ari’s still got your wrist in a death-grip, and you wince in pain when he squeezes even tighter.

“Lemme go, Ari!” You try to fight against his hold but to no avail.

The blonde snorts, “Oh yeah, it really looks like she’s yours, Levinson.”

“Fuck off.”

“I know what your girlfriend looks like, asshole. I know it’s not her.” Steve’s still got that smirk on his face, and you can see Ari’s face going redder and redder. God, he was really getting to him! And they did in fact know each other!

Ari pointedly turns his back to Steve as if to shut him out of the conversation. Instead, he looks at you. “Baby, why are you still here? It’s getting really late, let me call you an Uber.”

Baby? Was he serious? After he’d left you alone in the bathroom even after you’d begged and pleaded with him to stay with you?!

You feel a surge of anger, “No! Don’t want you to call me anything, Ari! Just leave me alone, I can get home by myself.”

He frowns, “You’re still drunk. I’m gonna call you a–”

“Where’s Sharon, Levinson?” Steve pipes up from behind in an amused tone, as if this is all an evening’s worth of entertainment to him. “That’s her name, right? Your actual girlfriend?”

Ari whips around with lightning speed. Your heart jumps to your throat as the brunet lunges forward, grabbing Steve by the collar and getting all up in his face, “If you don’t shut the fuck up–”

“Or what, huh, Levinson?”

The brunet lowers his voice, “You know damn well I can beat your ass off court just as much as I can in court.”

Steve scoffs, “You beat my team, not me.”

Oh, so Steve was a basketball player too. He and Ari had played against each other.

Ari barks out a laugh, “Oh yeah, I forgot you got benched in the last game. Can’t seem to keep that temper in check, can you?”

The blonde shrugs, “I don’t know, Levinson. Seems like you’re the one who’s getting all worked up right now.”

“Go to hell, asshole–”

“BABY, THERE YOU ARE!”

Sharon stumbles up to where the three of you are standing, her dress riding high, heels in her hand and hair a mess. She’s even drunker than you are, and yet she still looks beautiful – in a dishevelled sort of way. Like Serena Van Der Woodsen, with her blonde hair so perfectly tangled. She looks tall and somehow still graceful despite how she all but falls on top of Ari, who lets go of Steve’s collar as he holds her up.

“Thought I lost you again,” she giggles, planting her lips on his. You blanch and look away, feeling like someone’s put your heart in a shredder. You almost don’t notice Steve grabbing you around the waist and pulling you back into him. Sharon continues to kiss Ari, making out with him except he keeps turning his head – but she’s too drunk to notice. “Babe, could you please take me home? I’m tired.”

Ari grimaces, “Sure. Why don’t you go wait by the car and I’ll be over when I’m ready?”

Sharon blinks, “What car?”

“My car.”

“What does it look like?”

Ari groans. Steve laughs. Sharon looks confused. And you hope the ground would swallow you whole so you wouldn’t have to witness the happy couple together right in front of your face.

“Sharon, just go wait somewhere else while I–”

“Are you guys a couple?” Sharon cuts him off, finally acknowledging you and Steve. “You look totally cute together if you are.”

“They’re not a couple.” Ari seethes, his blue eyes narrowing at Steve’s hands on your waist. “Let go of her, asshole.” he says quietly (not that Sharon would have even noticed). Steve ignores his, pretending he didn’t hear him.

“I, uh, I have to go,” you mumble, unable to stand being in their presence even a second longer. Sharon’s gone back to sloppily kissing up Ari’s jaw, and you just can’t take it. His words from earlier keep ringing through your ears: “I already have a girlfriend,” “I already have a girlfriend,” “I already have a girlfriend.”

You take your phone out, ready to call an Uber and be done with this night. You’d go home and charge your phone and try to reach Wanda from there. But just as you’re about to type in your address on the app, your screen goes black. Dead. Great. Fucking great.

“Oh no,” you whisper softly in dismay.

Ari’s already got his own phone out, typing away and presumably calling you an Uber whilst simultaneously trying to keep Sharon upright and at bay.

“I’ll take you home.” Steve volunteers.

“The hell you will,” Ari sneers, “Back the fuck off, Rogers, I’m calling her an Uber.” He looks like he wants to say more, his gaze still locked on the way Steve is holding you. But he can’t, of course he can’t… not with her here.

“Babe, I don’t feel well,” Sharon moans suddenly. Her face looks slightly green, and she’s stopped kissing Ari now.

“Just give me a second,” He tells her distractedly.

“Maybe you should worry about getting your own girlfriend home first, Levinson.” Steve says smugly before turning to you, “C’mon, let’s go.”

Ari’s eyes fix on yours, “Don’t go with him.”

You almost do obey. Because you always obey Ari. He’s told you in the past, warned you that you always have to do what he says because he’s your daddy and he’s in charge. But… But what about how you’d begged him to stay earlier, and he hadn’t? Now was your chance to do the same thing to him, give him a taste of his own medicine. That, and you also can’t stand to be in close vicinity of him and Sharon right now, or else you’d burst into tears again.

Pointedly avoiding Ari’s gaze, you look up at Steve instead, “O-Okay. Let’s go.”

The blonde tugs you along with him, and you purposely drown Ari out as Steve leads you away. And part of you wants Ari to follow, to push Sharon away and come after you, rip you out of Steve’s grip and take you home himself. But he doesn’t, of course he doesn’t. You don’t dare look back, knowing the happy couple is probably making out again, and you’ve already been forgotten.

“He’s such an asshole!” You burst out, “I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!”

Steve chuckles, “He’s an asshole, alright.”

“He really is! Hate how he treats me, an’ how I keep giving him chances. He just hurts me again and again and again and–”

“Let’s get you home, baby,” the blonde interrupts, getting his phone out.

You wait a handful of seconds, swaying in your heels but liking how he’s got his hand firmly on your lower back to keep you steady. You look up at him expectantly, “Well, aren’t you gonna ask for my address?”

“What?”

“My address, silly! How else am I gonna get home?”

He blinks, before slowly handing you his phone. You miss the glint in his eye, however, and how his lip curls up subtly in… disappointment? “Oh yeah. How stupid of me to forget.”

You type your address in on his Uber app and click accept before beaming up at him, “Thank you so much, Steve. It really means a lot to me, I honestly don’t know how else I would’ve got home! But don’t worry, I’ll pay you back! We’ll split the cost in half, and–”

He presses his finger to your lips, effectively shushing you before he shoots you that charming lop-sided smile of his, making your insides melt. “You don’t need to pay me back, sweetheart. What kind of a guy would I be if I took money from a little baby like you?”

You blink, feeling an extreme sense of dejavu. He sounded exactly like… Ari. Ari never let you pay for anything ever. Well, Ari never really took you out anywhere in public, but the two of you would always order takeout whenever he came over to your dorm room. And he’d never skimp out either, ordering from fancy places like Nobu because he said you were his baby and he wanted the best for you. And whenever you tried to pay your share, he’d just snort and push your hand away, “What kind of a guy would I be if I took money from a helpless little baby like you?”

The reminder of Ari has a ton of different emotions washing over you all over again. Sadness, jealousy, anger…. You shake your poor drunken, muddled head, “Oh, I hate Ari so much, Steve! He’s heartless, and he–”

You’re still going on and on by the time the Uber arrives. And you’re so into your tirade, that you don’t even notice Steve’s arms going around you again, holding you tight against him as if he owns you. You don’t notice how his hands wander, how he rubs the bare skin of your arms, the small of your back, going lower and lower. His fingers playing with the short hem of your dress…

You do notice him slip cash into the driver’s hand… Probably the tip, you presume, too drunk to care.

Your mind wanders to Ari again during the ride home. You sit in the backseat with Steve, staring out  the window gloomily as you think about how he broke your heart. Oh, how could you have been so stupid? So gullible? So innocent? You’d never let anyone take advantage of you like that again…

“You okay?” Steve asks, pressing his hand on your thigh.

You nod, “Yeah, I’m just thinkin’ about how much I hate Ari, and–”

“Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been listening to you complain about Ari for the past ten minutes straight. Don’t mention him again.”

He says it softly, calmly, and yet you shut your mouth and straighten up. Despite being drunk, you can detect the seriousness of his tone, and a hint of a threat too. Which you’re probably imagining because why would Steve threaten you? He was so sweet! Wasn’t he?

“I’m sorry, Steve,” you say softly, relaxing once he shoots you a smile.

The drive continues, and Steve’s hand remains on your bare thigh, squeezing every now and again. You don’t mind, his touch helping you feel grounded. You’re still so drunk and probably high too, from that damned stupid pill Ari had given you. No, no, no! You scrunch your eyes shut, willing yourself not to think about him.

“Baby, why don’t you come sit on my lap?” Steve says suddenly.

You whip your head in his direction, “Wh-What?”

“The Uber driver just told me the backseat is really dirty, and you’re in a dress, so I think you’d better sit on me.”

You glance at the driver, who looks straight ahead at the road, not batting an eye or saying a single word. You’re too drunk to argue, and so you just nod. Steve grabs you by the waist, easily lifting you up and placing you on his lap. You can’t help but welcome his warmth, shivering in your skimpy little dress as you wiggle around, trying to get comfortable. He notices, immediately shrugging off his varsity jacket and draping it over your shoulders.

“There. Nice and warm now?”

You smile up at him gratefully, “Yeah! Thanks so much, Steve!” You try not to ogle at his biceps.

“You look cute in my jacket,” Steve chucks you under the chin, “It’s huge on you.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re huge,” you blurt out, before your eyes widen.

“And you’re just tiny.” He quips, pulling you closer.

This was weird, right? You’d only just met him a mere twenty minutes ago, and now you were already in a car with him? In his lap, no less? But you could trust Steve, right? He was nice enough to give you a lift home when he didn’t even know you, and he didn’t want you to touch the dirty backseat either. And he’d given you his jacket so you’d stay warm. All of those looked like green flags to you. Unlike dumb stupid Ari, who was one red flag after another!

The car hits a snag on the road, causing you to bounce inadvertently in his lap. Steve groans as if he’s in pain, and you shoot him an apologetic look.

“Sorry, Stevie. That was an accident.”

He smirks, “Stevie?”

Heat spreads across your cheeks, unaware that you’ve said it out loud… But it’s a cute nickname nonetheless, and so you just shrug awkwardly, a sheepish smile on your face.

Steve’s hand rubs up and down your back soothingly, “It’s a long way till your house, baby. Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

You nod, “Well, I’m a freshman at St. Andrews’ College, and…and…” your voice drifts off as you notice how close you are to him, how you can see the freckles and beauty marks on his face, how deep his blue eyes are up close. So much like Ari’s…

Steve licks his lips, “How does a little freshman like you get mixed up with an asshole like Ari Levinson?”

Oh God, where do you even begin? Instead, you shake your head, “I-I thought I wasn’t allowed to mention Ari again?”

“You’re right,” Steve’s eyes twinkle, and he brushes a piece of your hair behind your ear, “You take instructions well, sweetheart, that makes you a good girl.”

You glow at the praise, before the car hits another snag on the road – this time a much bigger one. You bounce on Steve’s lap again, biting your lip when you feel the rough material of his jeans graze against you down there. And that’s when you come to a horrific realisation.

You’re not wearing any panties.

Your mind flashes back to earlier in the night. Ari fucking you in the middle of the dancefloor. Lifting your dress up. Your panties slipping down your legs. You stepping out of them, the lacy thong lying on the floor. That was the last you’d seen it…

You gulp, looking down at Steve’s lap slowly. No, no, no. Oh no… There it is, plain as day… A wet stain on his jeans, directly beneath you. You hear a low groan, and you know he’s seen it too.

“Oh my gosh, Steve, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I–”

“It’s okay,” he breathes, his voice throaty as he grips your hips to hold you in place, “Maybe you should move…”

“Yes, of course, sorry, I’ll just…” You hastily try to get off his lap, but he holds on tight, not allowing you to budge.

“No, baby girl. I mean move like this.” With fluid confidence, he guides your hips over thick, jean-clad thigh. You gasp breathily, hands shaking as they automatically grip his shoulders. Your bare cunt grazes against the rough denim, pleasurable sensations thrumming through your body. Oh God, what were you doing? You glance fearfully at the driver, but he seems to be in his own world, carefully ignoring the two of you from the driver’s seat.

“Stevie, we shouldn’t–”

“Shhh, move again,” he orders, his thumb circling your hip through the thin material of your dress.

“B-But we just met, this isn’t right, we–” But he shushes you again by moving your hips for you. And his hands are so big, gripping you so tight as he moves you over his muscular leg, your cunt catching against the jean material again and making your whole body convulse. You automatically grab at his broad shoulders, feeling overwhelmed and confused yet horny and needy all at once.

Ari wouldn’t like this, your inner voice warns.

“I thought you took instructions well, baby doll.” Steve whispers enticingly in your ear, hands rubbing soothingly up and down your back as if to cajole you into doing what he wanted. “C’mon, move again like how I told you to.”

Your body obeys as if you’ve been wired to, and maybe it’s because you like listening to people or maybe it’s because you’re just plain horny. Either because of Ari’s damned ecstasy pill or because Steve is so handsome and hot and his body is so big and muscular and warm. Oh, you don’t know! But you do roll your hips down against his lap, eyes widening at how good it feels as you both gasp in unison.

“That’s a good girl,” Steve praises, giving you a sweet smile. And you’re so close to him, and he’s so handsome, and his lashes are so long and thick, his jaw so defined, his freckles so pretty…

“You’re so pretty!” You blurt out.

Steve snorts, “And you’re still so fucking drunk.”

“Wha–?”

“Nothing. Move again.” But this time he picks you up, repositioning you so that you’re face to face with him and straddling his crotch, and oh my! He was so hard, so, so hard! You could feel his dick poking through the denim, rubbing against your wet folds! What was even happening right now?! “Baby, this feels good huh? Moving against me like this?”

“Uh… y-yeah, I guess it does.” You answer shyly.

“Good. Then I won’t have to repeat myself after this one last time. Move. Again.” Quick as a wink, his hand leaves your hip, thick fingers curling around your throat instead. He speaks softly yet with authority and a hint of menace, blue eyes almost magically unblinking as he stares you down, “Rub your little baby cunt all over my jeans. You might as well, since you’ve already made a mess.”

SMACK.

You squeak before your jaw drops open. Had he just spanked you? Once more, you look to the driver in the front, but he seems to be determinedly ignoring whatever was going on in the backseat.

Almost as if he’d been paid to do so…

You start to move your hips, letting Steve guide you as you grind down on his clothed crotch. And fuck, it feels heavenly. Your poor clit is throbbing, so needy and desperate as you seek your pleasure, holding on to Steve’s sturdy shoulders.

“Fuck yeah, you’re such a cute little slut aren’t you?” Steve hums into your neck, his teeth grazing against your bare skin, “can’t believe a sweet little angel with a snatch as tight and sexy as yours landed right in my lap. Well, I stole you right from under Levinson’s nose, but that’s not important right now, is it?” He slaps your ass again, his other hand still wrapped around your neck. Not squeezing, just holding it, “Move harder, baby. I’m already letting you use me for your pleasure, so you better do as I say.”

“O-Okay, Stevie,” you pant, not really hearing what he’s saying because the delicious friction is too much for you to handle.

He nips at the nape of your neck, that now familiar glint in his eye, “Call me daddy, sweetheart.”

You gape at him. But you only ever called Ari daddy!

His fingers squeeze around your neck, making it exponentially harder for you to breathe. “Did you hear what I said?” He asks smoothly.

“Y-Yeah,” you barely get the word out.

“Then say it. Say it or I’ll choke you the fuck out.”

“Daddy!” You squeak as he loosens his grip, gulping for air, “D-Daddy, please!”

He smirks, leaning back against the seat as he watches you ride his crotch. You can’t stop now, it feels too good, too sexy. An yet it also almost feels like you’re doing something wrong, like you’re betraying Ari… Except you’re not, you’re not, you’re not! Because Ari already had a girlfriend and it wasn’t you!

“You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you? Dry humping your little baby pussy on a guy you’ve just met?” Steve grabs the back of your neck and yanks you forward, till his plump pink lips ghost against yours, “You this slutty for all the frat boys, sweetie?”

You shake your head desperately, “N-No, promise I’m not! I’ve only ever been with one guy, ah!” Your poor pussy feels like it’s been rubbed raw, and yet you can’t stop. Your hips are both moving off their own accord, and Steve’s still moving your body lazily on top of his, the fat outline of his dick protruding through his jeans, a wet spot of your juices on top of his crotch. “W-Well, actually, now I’ve been with two, but–oh fuck!”

You whimper pathetically as Steve suddenly bites down on your neck, sucking against the sensitive skin till it breaks. He peppers the broken skin with kisses, and it hurts yet it feels so good. You find your hand slipping up to grab at his short hair, and instinctively you’d been expecting Ari’s long tufts because that was all you were used to. But all you can think about is Steve right now, and how good his huge body feels underneath you as you grind against it.

“And does it feel good, baby? Humping up against a stranger like you’re in heat?” He licks the shell of your ear lewdly, shivers running down your spine before he suddenly thrusts upwards, catching you off-guard. Your pussy clenches, lust pumping through your veins at his words. “Innocent little baby, only ever been with two guys and yet you’re dry humping me like you’re being paid to do it.”

He laughs wickedly, and how could he still look so angelic? The moonlight shines on his face through the window of the car, and one second he’s looking down at you mockingly, before his face morphs into one of lust and want, and he lets out a soft gasp as he grinds up against you. “Fuck, you’re doing so good, baby. Making daddy feel so fuckin’ good, aren’t you?”

“Y-Yeah, daddy, oh fuck, you feel so big,” you whimper with abandon.

Steve snorts, “I’m bigger than you could handle, sweet girl. Your cute little baby pussy would probably start crying if I tried to put my dick inside you right now.”

His dirty talk makes you moan, and you can feel yourself growing more excited. That’s when he starts to fondle you, his hands everywhere on your body, squeezing and rubbing your tits through the thin material of your dress. “God, you’re just a baby, aren’t you?”

“N-No,” you pant, only to earn another smack to your ass.

“Don’t fucking disagree with me,” he hisses, blue eyes blazing before his smirk returns, “You’re a little fuckin’ baby who’s known me all of two seconds and yet you’re horny for my daddy dick, aren’t you? I said, aren’t you?”

“Yes, okay?! Yes!” You cry out, your folds so insanely sensitive from rubbing and rubbing against him, and yet you’re so close. But was it just you, or had Steve’s demeanour changed. Back at the party, he was charming, funny, helpful. And now? Oh, he was still charming, and so devastatingly handsome. But there was a darkness to his angelic quality… Either that or you were imagining things.

“What if I pushed you down and made you ride my fuckin’ shoe instead?” He asks, that devilish glint ever-present in his blue eyes which were dark with lust, “You’d do it, wouldn’t you? You’d do anything to cum.”

“Daddy, ‘m so close!” you whine like a baby, clutching his shirt hard in case he did push you to the floor. You didn’t want that at all, and you blink up at him with wide eyes, “D-Don’t push me down, daddy, please! Promise I’ll be good an’ I’ll listen to you! Wanna stay in your lap, please!”

He blinks down at you, chiselled face softening some as he cups your face, his other hand still guiding you as you ride his thigh, “Fuck, you’re cute, aren’t you?”

But then his expression darkens once more, and he reaches down, grabbing the flimsy fabric of your dress. There’s a loud tearing sound and you gasp, jaw dropping as he rips the lower part of your dress clean in half. He smiles, “Keep going, baby. Daddy just wanted to see you better. And look at your baby pussy, look how cute and puffy she is. Bet you’re sore down there, huh?”

“Y-Yeah, but don’t wanna stop! So close!”

He runs his tongue over his plump lips, “I bet you are.”

Reaching down, he makes you gasp out loud when his fingers spread your sopping folds, and fuck, his jeans feel so fucking good now, so much better, so much rougher, oh god, oh god, oh god… And that’s when he takes complete control, grabbing your hips harder and moving you on top of him like you’re a doll. Like you’re his personal fucktoy, and he’s using you for his pleasure as he moves you back and forth on his dick, dragging you up and down on his clothed crotch while he whispers dirtily in your ear.

But it’s when he squeezes your throat again, that you feel your pussy clench doubly hard.

“You like that, huh? Like when daddy gets rough?” Steve chuckles darkly, before squeezing harder. Till he’s well and truly choking you, and you can feel your airway close up, and you well and truly can’t breathe, and it’s agony but it’s so delicious, and he’s dragging you all over his crotch, rutting up against you as you scramble on top of him, and you can’t breathe and you’re about to black out and, and, and…

You come hard, squirting all over his crotch which was already wet from your juices. And your cream keeps on pouring out, your orgasm hitting you so hard. And that’s when he releases your throat, like he’s given you the ability to breathe as a reward for cumming, and he rubs your back soothingly as you sob and squeak in pleasure, his voice all sweet once more, all dripping with honey as he caressed you, “you’re such a good girl, such a good fucking girl, you did so good, baby.”

The rest of the drive home is silent, you feeling fucked out in Steve’s lap, Steve looking smug, and the Uber driver staring straight ahead as if the debauchery that just took place in the backseat of his car had never even happened. Your legs are shaking, and you can’t believe what’s just happened but you’re too exhausted to truly care. All you want is your bed. And sleep.

“Sweetheart, I think we’re here. Is this your building?”

“It is,” you say hoarsely, suddenly feeling too shy to even meet his gaze. And there’s a part of you that feels guilty now that it’s all over, a part of you that keeps thinking about Ari and what he would think about all this. Fuck. You shake your head to clear out all those thoughts until tomorrow, “Thanks for giving me a lift home, Stevie.”

His lop-sided smile returns, almost as if the whole ordeal in the Uber had never even happened, “No worries, baby.”

He helps you out of the car, and your legs feel like complete jelly, but you’re thankful that you can stand upright. You feel a weight on your shoulders, suddenly noticing his varsity jacket is still on you. Blue and white, with his initials “S.G.R.” “Oh, your jacket, Stevie. Here–”

“You keep it.” He cuts you off, his eyes glittering with the reflection of the moon and stars as his lip curls upwards, “Keep it somewhere in your dorm room, somewhere where everyone can see, alright?”

“Okay.” You really don’t have it in you to question his weird request.

He walks you all the way to your dorm room like a perfect gentleman, waits while you rummage through your purse for your keys. Chuckles as he finds them for you and unlocks your door. Pats your ass as he pushes you inside.

But not before pressing a kiss on your cheek and murmuring a quiet, “I’ll see you soon enough, baby.”

And then he’s gone, and you’re alone. You put your phone on charge before immediately flopping down on your bed. Your aching muscles hum in satisfaction, and you feel instant relief as you kick your heels off and close your eyes. Your heart is racing – how had you gone from being a virgin at the beginning of the year to hooking up with two guys in the same night?!

Speaking of one of the guys, your phone begins vibrating the moment it gains its battery back, and you see a flood of texts and missed calls from Ari. And you think back to how you’d feel a small sense of satisfaction and a burst of happiness every time he texted you or called you in the past.

Now, you don’t even have the energy to open his messages. It could wait till tomorrow.

You close your eyes to sleep. And you dreamt of Ari, of course you did. You dreamt of Ari a lot. But there was someone else alongside the brunet in your dreams tonight. A blonde with a charming smile and glittering eyes, the moonlight bathing him like a halo.

But you weren’t so sure if he was an angel.

AFHJSAFA OKAY! SO. What do we think??? AND YES omfg of course the second love interest was Steve! Y'all know i'm a whore for Steve and for me, he's the only one who can believably compete against THE Ari Levinson!!! I can't wait to delve into this story!!! I hope you guys enjoyed! Feedback would mean the world to me!

(also i'm paranoid that there are mistakes and continuity errors even tho i sorta did reread it kind of but aksdfnldaskgal idk!!! i'm sure it's all fine tho)

I actually prepared some questions for yall just in case:

Is it too soon to ask if you're team Ari or team Steve?!?! BC I WANNA KNOWWW.

Do Ari and Steve know each other?!?! DO YOU THINK THEY HAVE HISTORY?!?!

Does Ari have feelings for reader?! What is Steve's deal?!!? IDK YALL JUST PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT, ANY GENERAL THOUGHTS AND FEEDBACK SDFKLSAFN OKAY BYE

donate to my ko-fi!

#ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #andy barber x reader

[darkblueboxs]

Glass Onion Spoilers - Foreshadowing and Among Us

I’ve seen a few posts dunking on glass onion for being “cringe” because of the Among Us scene and a few praising it for accurately reflecting the fact that this is all everyone was playing in 2020, but I haven’t seen anyone really talk about how brilliantly Among Us works as a foreshadowing/storytelling device.

On the surface - as the film itself points out! - the game is a neat little parallel of the island: one murderer hidden among us, with the objective being to find them out. But this comparison goes far deeper than the basic premise of the film.

Firstly, Benoit appears as the game’s imposter, and then, it is later revealed, is literally an imposter, arriving on the island uninvited under false pretences - one of the first major twists of the film spelled out to the audience in the opening act. And he isn’t alone - just as two imposters generally work together to deceive the other players, so Benoit and Helen work together to infiltrate the group. BUT, and this is the bit that really drives me wild, the endgame format of Among Us perfectly reflects the endgame of the film. The way to win Among Us isn’t necessarily a case of killing everyone or surviving every round - the way to win is by convincing your fellow players to believe you, and to vote accordingly.

During the trial Andi loses because the imposter - the billionaire impersonating a genius - convinces the other players that she should be voted out; she is as effectively thrown out of the airlock as she is the business, and then literally killed to protect the [fortune of] the “crew.”

But, Andi was not the imposter, and so the game continues.

The imposter kills again, and when Miles confesses to causing the lights to go out, this is another excellent hint - only the imposter can sabotage the lights!

Then, with all the characters assembled much like an “Emergency Meeting,” we reach the climax of the film: Miles burns the napkin evidence, and immediately the ensemble is back to the voting booth as Helen, like her sister, fights for the players’ support in voting out the imposter. Any Among Us player will recognise the infuriating feeling when you literally just saw them vent for the love of god you were all there vote them OFF- and that frustration - of speaking the truth and not being believed - is evident in this scene.

But these players don’t care about the truth; they care about surviving (ie staying rich), and so they will vote off an innocent person to placate the shark. Which is absolutely not how you win the game.

Then, then, the game’s final round: the imposter has lost his tools, is revealed for the useless fraud he is, and it’s when he has nothing left to offer the other players that one more vote is held - the characters literally raise their hands as they pledge their support to Helen, in part to give the appearance of swearing in upon the witness stand, but also in part to give the visual of a literal vote... such as that of an Among Us emergency meeting vote.

And it’s when Miles is finally, rightfully ejected that at last, the game is won.

Among Us is a game of social engineering, of lying and convincing others of your lies to prolong your survival, deception, and the malleability of truth. Presenting this game in the opening of the film is more than a gimmick or scene-setter: it illustrates the social structures at the heart of the story.

TLDR: Among Us foreshadows the film’s premise, but also plot twists, character choices, and significantly the film’s resolution by way of group vote.

#glass onion #Knives Out #glass onion spoilers #rian johnson #netflix #benoit blanc #among us #i didnt stop to check specific details beyond character names so if i fudged a detail we are simply going to have to live with it #in this house we delight in and enjoy indie game references that also work as storytelling devices #too busy having fun to be cringe rn #i havent written this much analysis for anything since leaving uni #also fuck netflix's no screenshot policy

[luvadosar]

Random & weirdly specific SFW/NSFW Vox head-cannons because I lije him

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

SFW:

- Though he does drink coffee, he isn’t a coffee addict surprisingly, I feel like he wouldn’t drink coffee unless he absolutely thinks he has to. Also, he likes to flex his awesome coffee cup. His average cup of joe consists of probably 6-8 oz of coffee, like 10 sugar packs , & 2 oz of creamer.

- You probably realized my not so subtle hints towards Vox loving sugar, because of his eccentric demeanor and his loud self, he would obviously love sugary sweets, not as much as drinks though. Vox is like those type of people who survive off of 10 energy drinks per day rather than water, claiming it was “cool”. I wouldn’t be surprised if he started the monster can craze in 2020.

- HIS BEDROOM GUYS, his bedroom. The vast majority of his bedroom is, surprise, blue. It’s messy but in a “good” way? I don’t know how to explain it but his room is not food or clothes messy. It’s cable cord messy, like back of the tv hooked up to the gaming system messy LMAO. He doesn’t visit his room a lot; he doesn’t even call it “his room” but I am. Blue led lights everywhere, tv screens all over the walls just like his office. The man doesn’t even have a bed! I also think his room is filled with unsuccessful prototypes of his old VoxTek shit. If you’re super close to him he’d let you play with them <3

- If you want to “win his heart” I think you’re gonna wanna know a thing or two about technology. If not prepare for hours of him ranting about shit you don’t know. Because wdf

- Despite him being a bratty piss baby, he’s intelligent, he’s a fucking technology engineer, businessman, & founder of a huge company in Pentagram City for god’s sake . Just not emotionally and actually fun fact, smarter people have trouble connecting with emotions of other people, hence why he’s so manipulative and whatnot. (Smart people do stupid shit) I compare him to Elon Musk or something

- So his phone…whats on his phone?! Seriously what the fuck is on his phone. There is actually a ss of hell’s apps on one of the imps phone, I will post it here! But firstly the only apps that’ll be on his phone is VoxFlix, Sinstagram (even though he’s probably more of a stalker than a poster) Envee (TikTok), and all the other apps that come with the Vphone. He probably does not have the hell equivalent to facebook because “who the fuck uses hellbook” guys he watches porn btw.

- For a tiny small fraction of angst, though he has a relationship with reader…i dont think he’ll stop watching porn (not that he has a crippling porn addiction lmao…he watches it every now and then) unless you really get in your feelings about it. But then he’ll just think you’re totally overreacting.

NSFW

- Speaking of porn, his deep desires is to record a video of him absolutely fucking your brains out…or if youre a top…you absolutely fucking HIS brains out.

- (For my switches) First time he realized you top too, he was reluctant at first because, what would that do to his sweet repuation? If someone finds out? If someone finds him bent over the table, caught him pants down, getting penetrated by a dick (silicone or real), the risks of someone taking a pic and posting it for everyone to see especially Alas— sorry guys.

- (For my tops) BIG PISS BABY. Complains all the fucking time. About how much it hurts and wanting you to slow down for a second so he can catch his breath. Seeing him glitch at your nasty remarks. And if you’re a mean top, he fucking hates it so good but it feels so bad. Seeing him cry about the negative attention you’re sending his way, he craves nothing more than to be perceived in a positive light. Thats why he hates alastor cause he thinks he hates him so therefore he hates him back 🤷🏽‍♀️. But if you’re a nice top, get ready for needy Vox.

- Like I said he’s a power bottom if you’re a top, he just doesn’t know it yet <3

- Big sucker for praise. Wants to be called a good boy. I will admit he was shy at first about you commanding him to call himself a good boy for that sweet long awaited praise. Poor baby ;(

- “I-I’m a good…good boy..?” ^^^

- His cum is not blue guys 😔… his cum is milky, stiky like caramel, sweet like pineapple, and white like a sheet of paper.

- IT WOULD BE SO COOL IF I INCLUDE SCARY DETAILS ABOUT HIS DICK GUYS!! 👻👻 /hj

- Girth: 2.5in Length: 6-7in Tip color: #03cafc Number and placement of veins: 3 noticeable veins, two crossing diagonally from eachother and more closer to the balls, the other one is more closer to the tip Base color: #304891 Miscellaneous: slightly curved to the right (it’s barely there but if you look closely). Grower > Shower

yall i had to re upload because i came to my senses that i dont see vox topping at all like he’s too…HIM for that. 😭 im so embarrassed dont be alarmed if i say i will literally eat the nearest brick wall like a cake !

#hazbin hotel x reader #hellaverse #hazbin hotel #vox x reader #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox headcanons #hazbin hotel headcanon #headcanon

[maxwellatoms]

What kind of video games do you like to play Mr. Atoms?

So many! Assuming there's time. These days there's generally not, so I've been bingeing Vampire Survivors in half-hour doses.

Above is a gif from Noita, my top game of the pandemic. It's an old-school "Metroidvania", but every pixel is simulated and you're a witch who can manipulate her spells (and thereby the world) in a seemingly infinite number of ways. Here, I've built magical "buzzsaws" around myself, which blinded me to the shadow amoeba. In Noita, almost every death is due to hubris, and I think I love that pendulum swing. If you're lucky and skilled, you can become a walking whirlwind of destruction, but you're always your own worst enemy. Bonus: You can turn your vomit into rats.

I'm currently on a break in the midst of my Baldur's Gate 3 run, with a party consisting of my BG2 character's daughter, Karlatch, Lazelle, and Shadowheart. Ladies' Night!

I'm also playing a bit of Shadows of Doubt. I'm not sure it'll hold up long-term, but it's got a lot of potential.

I don't really limit myself by genre or platform, but I'd say that I primarily play indie PC games. The games in my Steam library that I keep going back to again and again?

Cities: Skylines: A chill City Building Simulator. Lots of fun mods.

Darkest Dungeon: This thing is a classic strategy game IMO.

Death Road to Canada: A light, fast Project Zomboid. Dogs with guns!

Dwarf Fortress: For me, it's the ultimate fantasy sim. I love it so much. Looking forward to Adventure Mode finally appearing on Steam.

Project Zomboid: The ultimate lonely 2D zombie apocalypse survival game. Or non-survival game, I suppose.

Total War: Warhammer: For when I'm in a strategy-y mood. Like a lot of people, I'm a bit soured on the modern DLC scene, so I'm still waiting on #3 even though I'm a Chaos stan.

Not on Steam? I do play some Star Citizen from time to time. I backed it a decade ago. I used to joke that it was the game I was going to retire into, but more and more that's looking less and less like a joke. Still, it's made some good progress in the last couple of years and I'm hopeful that repair and engineering turn out to be fun.

The game I'm looking forward to most would be the next Elder Scrolls. I know it's still a ways off. Ever since my Nereverine landed in Morrowind with the intention of becoming a just and righteous cleric and instead found herself an unwitting villain and colonizer, I fell in love with the Elder Scrolls and it's deep, gray lore. It is (for me) a great way to really get into a character's head. Roleplaying... go figure.

Since Morrowind (and a backtrack into Daggerfall), I only allow myself one canon playthrough. My rule is to "let it ride", so that aside from death, if I screw up or if something unexpected happens I don't save-scum. All of my characters are related, either by quest or bloodline. I already know that my next character will be Aventus Aretino (the kid you catch summoning the Dark Brotherhood). My Skyrim character (above) had adopted him and then left him in the hands of a vampire, so I should be covered even if there's a big time jump. Now I just have to wait six more years for the game. And then maybe two for mods. God I'm so old.

I need to spend more time with Dave the Diver.

Anything current I'm missing out on?

#maxwell atoms #video games #all over the map

[pennyellee]

CHAPTER V - paraprosexia

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, , manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, mentions of God, mentions of feminism, spanking, kidnapping, drug use, alcohol, manhandling, mentions of murder, mentions of abuse, abduction

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 7K

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III GAME OF GO CHAPTER IV CHAPTER VI

paraprosexia (n.) constant distraction

The rhythmic hum of the Cadillac’s engine created a soothing backdrop as the vehicle glided along the quiet road. The silence between them was thick, pregnant with unspoken words and emotions. Yoongi has decided that he isn't done peeling away the layers shrouding his fiancée’s thoughts, and for the last time, before they become each other’s for this lifetime and many others, he wishes to have a peek into her soul.

“We never concluded our earlier conversation,” his voice laced with a gentle yet probing tone. He wished to hear the truth before he could tell her his own. Yoongi was trying to stay focused on the road, as he decided to drive them himself, selfishly wanting another private moment with her before they part to get ready for the wedding and see each other at the temple’s altar.

She took a deep breath, her voice soft yet resolute. “What do you want to hear?” She asked him the same question she did to Namjoon, but she knew he would pry even more than his younger brother.

“What haunts you, my dear?” Y/N’s eyes met his for a brief moment, a mix of vulnerability and determination shining within them. He thought that perhaps if he could get her to confide in him, he would solve whatever obstacle is keeping her from trying to take him inside her heart.

Y/N looked down at her fingers “Namjoon asked me the same question, you know.” He hummed in agreement encouraging her to continue. If she hadn’t confessed to Namjoon, she might have to him. “I wanted my life to take a different route.” She did not lie, this was very truthful, but not the whole truth.

“A rather enigmatic statement, my dear” Y/N knew that, and she wished it could stay vague. “You were born with the knowledge that one day you’ll become someone’s wife and I find it hard to believe that you would be able to live a life out of the syndicate—”

She didn’t shy away, fully realising his words were truthful to some degree. Her gaze directed down at her intertwined fingers. “You presume right,” she admitted.

“—It’s maybe where your dreams take you, but I promise that even if you would be able to run away from all this, you would not survive.” The dim lighting inside the car played upon the contours of his face, highlighting the sharp angles and furrowed brows that spoke of the weight he carried upon his shoulders.

“Why would you think so?” She asked, curious what he has to say.

“Everyone knows who you are. You wouldn’t even blink and I would know exactly where you are—” he begun “—in the best scenario, of course, the worst would be the Yakuza clan, or any other syndicate got to you first—”

“You mean all your enemies?” she stumbled out of her.

“Yes?” He questioned.

“Is this what you’re scared of? My enemies?” He didn’t hesitate to ask. She kept her silence for a moment. “You’re safer with me than alone, at least remember that.”

“—it’s not. If you would want me on the brink of death I would be already there.” Y/N cut him off. Part of her is relieved that she did not end up being married off to the Yakuza that is well known for their strict and beastly behaviour against women. The other part of her is in constant fear.

“What is it then?” He asked softly. Yoongi wanted her to know that she could talk to him freely, without judgment. He longs to be one with her, body, and soul, desperately trying to make her confined in him as his lover.

“It’s—” It was hard for Y/N to open up to him, she feels vulnerable, “—the uncertainty, the feeling that I’m being swept away by a current I have no control over.” Y/N’s gaze wandered outside the window, the passing scenery a blur of shadows and fleeting glimpses of moonlit snow-covered fields. Looking at him at this second would be too much to bear for her.

“During college, I just got used to being autonomous,” she continued. Yoongi carefully listened to her confession while he was gripping the wheel and focusing on the road.

“But you knew that you were still bound by duty and loyalty.” Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. She knew very well what awaited her after her studies, yet still hoped that it would turn out differently.

“I did, but I didn’t want to lose that kind of life either,” she said softly. Autonomy has a huge role in one’s life. Y/N got a taste of what it is to live a normal life, away from bloodshed, clan wars, torture and the endless screams that echoed through the mansions; negotiations and forced marriages. All that she wished to not associate with.

As the car continued to roll through the night their conversation was not near its end. “I’m just not ready to be someone’s wife nor mother, and not on the head council of the clan,” she exclaimed. Yoongi sighed, pulling to stop at the side of the road, letting the engine still roar. He wanted to look into her beautiful eyes.

The scarred leader turned to her petite form sitting in the passenger seat. “You won’t believe me now, but I do understand where this comes from—” he reached out, his hand gently touching hers, providing a comforting reassurance “—you’re young, and this feeling will pass away, all the doubts too, just let me show you what a good life I can give you,” their eyes locked.

“The path we are destined to tread can lead to unexpected joys and fulfilment. I promise you’ll be alright. We’ll be alright.” He stressed out.

“It’s all so easy for you to say, you lived, and I had three years. I wanted to see more of what life could be. I wanted to see the world—”

“I can give you the world, princess,” he said.

“As long as I stay,” she said, her voice shaking. Yoongi slowly nodded in agreement, caressing her cheek. “Let me love you Y/N—”

“Everything alright, Kkangpae?” Said a subdued voice outside the vehicle. Yoongi opened the door slightly, replying with a simple ‘We needed a moment’. And with that, he gets back on the road, getting closer and closer to her biggest fear.

The clock’s hands had long passed the threshold of midnight when they arrived in front of the imposing hotel. Accepting his hand as she stepped out of the car, her gaze swept over the swarm of men and women moving feverishly around the temple’s grounds, getting everything ready for the grand wedding.

“By morning, everything will be in place, Kkangpae,” a voice broke through the haze of her thoughts. She turned her attention to her cousin, Kai, whom she hadn’t seen for some time, giving Y/N a light smile before continuing talking to Yoongi.

Walking by Yoongi’s side with a demeanour as composed as a statue, Y/N seemed to be a mere spectator in the bustling landscape of preparations. She could feel his burning touch on the small of her back.

“Unnie!!” She recognised the voice like it was yesterday she heard it. She opened her arms, a welcoming embrace for the younger sister she hadn’t seen in too long. Their bond was immediate, and Y/N clung to Xiaoli, a mix of protectiveness and adoration welling within her, caressing her hair, smiling while doing so. She missed her little sister dearly. It was just a few months, and Y/N could already sense how much she changed. Wang Xiaoli was the most beautiful girl Y/N had ever seen in her life. Freshly turning eighteen, she could see the newfound aura of femininity.

“Why are you still awake, pumpkin?” Y/N’s voice was infused with a comforting warmth. The endearment was as familiar to them as the air they breathed. Y/N could not help but always baby her little sister whenever she had the chance.

“I was having a conversation with Taehyung-oppa.” She smiled at her sweetly. Xiaoli’s response was tinged with a hint of excitement, a radiance in her eyes that had been absent before. Breaking into Korean instead of their native Chinese. Y/N’s own transition to speaking in Korean had been a necessary evolution, therefore Y/N did not realise that her sister is not speaking their native tongue right away. She did not expect Xiaoli to be comfortable conversing in Korean, not speaking of the hanbok that was hiding her figure. But with the name of one of the seven, she understood why her sister voluntarily spoke to her in the tongue of her captor.

“Did you?” She glanced at Yoongi who still stood next to her, talking to Kai.

“Oh my God, I apologise!” Xiaoli’s exclamation sliced through the air, her sudden realization causing her to pivot toward Yoongi.

“Good late night, Kkangpae Min,” the words flowed from her sister’s lips, accompanied by a respectful bow. Y/N’s attention remained on the scene unfolding before her. Watching Yoongi extend his hand, which she took into her small ones, bowing her head once more. Yoongi enjoyed being at the top of the world. And he knew he would go even higher tomorrow night.

“Miss Wang, how are you this late evening?” he asked politely.

“Very well, Kkangpae Min. I can be with my sister again. I’m very happy.” Xiaoli couldn’t stop smiling. There was a big difference between Xiaoli and Y/N — Xiaoli’s acceptance and Y/N’s defiance. Xiaoli never dreamt of leaving the syndicate. She was very eager to get married, have kids, and be a wife.

Y/N wanted to marry one day. But she longed to have the freedom to decide when, where and whom she would marry. And apart from Y/N, Xiaoli forgave more easily than Y/N. It was in her nature that Y/N wanted to protect.

She wanted her sister to be happy with whatever life she chose to live. If she wanted a life like her, she would do anything to help her do so. But Xiaoli never understood Y/N’s desire for freedom. Y/N understood that Xiaoli never got the taste of it in the first place. Her sister graciously accepted her faith as a mafia wife while Y/N felt oppressed to do so.

However, there was something off about her. Y/N had a third sense that something isn’t as it should be. 

“Do you think I could speak to my sister privately, Kkangpae Min?” Xiaoli asked suddenly.

“Don’t be long. Y/N needs to sleep well tonight.” As if she would be able to fall asleep altogether.

“Thank you, Kkangpae Min.” She bowed down again, Xiaoli’s grasp on her hand was firm, tugging her toward the sunroom where memories lingered.

“Y/N?” They stopped for a moment, hearing Yoongi’s voice. She reluctantly turned herself back to him, awaiting his next words.

“Yes?” She said softly, scared that he would change his mind and wouldn’t let them have a sisterly talk after so long.

“Come to my office before you go to sleep, baby.” He replied with a low tone. It seemed to her that he still wanted to talk to her about something. Y/N nodded before her sister continued walking away.

“Yamamoto’s are apparently still furious,” her sister’s words hung in the air like a chilling wind, carrying with them a sense of impending doom. After the door to the sunroom that was now illuminated by moonlight instead, closed, Xiaoli spoke freely. Y/N had expected nothing less from the Yamamoto clan; Yoongi’s bold move had stirred a hornet’s nest, and he showed no remorse for his actions.

“Furious enough to ask for compensation.” Xiaoli continued. Y/N’s eyes widened, dread seeping into her veins like a slow poison.

“Compensation?” Her voice was a mere whisper.

“I believe you understand exactly what I mean,” Xiaoli’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. Being married off to a Yakuza is worse than death for women in this world. Out of all scenarios that ran through Y/N’s mind when she was deciding whether to run or not, she indeed did not foresee this one.

“I won’t let Father do that to you, Xiaoli.” Y/N could feel the anger bubbling in her. Y/N’s heart burned with anger and guilt; her rebellion against the clan’s traditions had not only endangered her own fate but cast a shadow over her sister’s future. They are desperately trying to plot their victory which became obscure after she got engaged to the Min clan’s leader. She had been defiant for her own sake, for her freedom, and in doing so, she had unwittingly put her sister’s happiness on the line.

Tears shimmered in Xiaoli’s eyes as she clung to her sister, seeking solace in her embrace. “I love him Y/N.”

She was clutching her older sister’s dress tightly. Y/N needed to think, she needed to find a solution. Little did she know, her sister knew very well how to back out of this ordeal, and she was ready to do it willingly.

“Love who, honey?” Y/N’s voice caught in her throat, her heart a mix of fear and understanding. She knew the path that her sister was treading, the dangerous game she was playing.

“Taehyung-oppa.” Y/N was afraid of that. She did not know Kim Taehyung that well, only from Yoongi’s talking about this very important man.

“Does he intend to marry you?” The words were heavy with implication. A timid nod was Xiaoli’s response, her eyes fixed on Y/N’s face, as if seeking approval or absolution.

“He plans to. But we need Father’s and Kkangpae Min’s blessing,” Xiaoli’s words were a tremulous confession, a secret laid bare in the moonlit room. ‘Make it happen’. Y/N kept her thoughts mingled in her head for some quiet moments.

“Sister, please,” Xiaoli begged Y/N. Xiaoli was head over heels for the older male. Taehyung was so charming, and she was too young to understand why he took interest in her in the first place.

“Kkangpae Min is in love with you.” Xiaoli’s words struck Y/N with an intensity that left her breathless “He won’t deny you.” Xiaoli’s voice held a conviction that sent shivers down Y/N’s spine. She doesn’t know. She doesn’t realise the true nature of his affection.  

She understands why she’s reaching to her before she would to her father, mother or Yoongi himself. Once she would be rejected there would be no making it better. There are no second negotiations in criminal syndicates. Her sister knew the intricate dynamics of the Min clan, and understood the power that Y/N held over their leader.

A maelstrom of emotions churned within Y/N – anger, longing, defiance, and a twinge of something else, something she dared not name. 

“He was very angry with me only recently Xiaoli.” Y/N decided not to hurt her sister’s feelings by revealing that their love is probably only a little dot in a bigger scheme. Xiaoli furrowed her brows suddenly.

“Are you still going by your stubborn feminist ideals, Y/N?” She raised her voice, surprising her older sister as she needed to take a step back.

“Xiaoli.” Y/N warned her, trying to keep calm.

“No Y/N! You’re being reckless, and I even have to say that.” Y/N could not believe her words.

“Is this your opinion or Taehyung-oppa’s, hm?” She crossed her arms awaiting the younger female’s answer.

“Everyone’s Y/N. You don’t even realise how lucky you got when leader Min took you in—”

“Took me in?! He let Chan-yeol drug me and betray me to get his way.”

“Least you ain’t marrying that murderer anymore.” That argument was ultimate for Y/N. She could not disagree with that. One girl already died under his hands, and Y/N was almost second in a row if she would marry him.

“See? You cannot deny that. He saved you from him. You’re free, because of leader Min. The least you can do is to be a little grateful.” Her sister spat out.

“That man brainwashed you; this isn’t you.” Said Y/N.

“No Y/N. I just accepted his love and reciprocated it. You should finally receive what God has given to you before someone will die.”

“No one will die, Xiaoli.” Y/N’s voice was full of vulnerability.

“I love you, sister. I do. I just wish you would see this as a blessing. You’re marrying someone who loves you.” There was not a night Y/N would not think of this possibility. She could not decide whether this was a blessing or her worst nightmare. But it still pinched her heart that even her sister didn’t see why she kept trying to find her way out.

“But as I know you. Someone will have to die for you to know your place.” The contrast of her sister’s demeanour now and a minute ago was setting Y/N off.

And this was Y/N’s biggest fear. Her mind was a battleground of conflicting thoughts, torn between loyalty to protect those who could not protect themselves and the desire to be free from the chains of forced marriage.

Xiaoli’s plea to consider the proposal from Kim Taehyung, someone who supposedly loved her younger sister, left Y/N feeling both grateful and resentful. From one perspective her sister would live hopefully happily, safely and near Y/N. They would not have to part their ways yet again.

From the other perspective, Y/N would possibly give in to Yoongi’s manipulative tactics as she refused to believe he didn’t possess a piece of knowledge about this. Deliberately not telling her. Y/N paced back and forth, her heart pounding loudly in her chest.

“Y/N…I apologise, I—” Xiaoli spoke after she sensed her sister was in distress.

“I want to make decisions myself, Xiaoli,” Y/N’s admission was a whisper, a confession that she had shared with no one else “—I want to have a say in how my life will turn out—” Something she was afraid to tell Yoongi or Namjoon.

“I wanted to have a choice.” She cried out. Xiaoli slowly approached her again.

“All you have to do is give in Y/N. Everything will be fine,” she cooed at Y/N.

“Why didn’t you write to me Xiaoli,” a sudden thought came to Y/N’s mind.

“Taehyung-oppa and leader Min thought it would be better as you needed to adjust.” Y/N could not help but desperately laugh at her words.

“You adjusted rather quickly.” Y/N scoffed, eyeing her physique clothed in pink flowery hanbok.

“Because I knew that this way, I could stay near you.” Y/N breathed in and out, trying to think clearly.

A sigh escaped her lips, a heavy exhale “If your love is genuine, if this is truly what you desire,” her voice wavered, uncertainty lacing her words, “then I’ll do everything in my power to make it happen.” Y/N was willing to push her desires and longing for freedom if it meant that her sister would be happy and safe. However, Y/N knows she won’t have to persuade Yoongi. It’s her father’s approval that will be hard to obtain.

Her sister’s embrace tightened, a silent gratitude passing between them as tears mingled in the moonlit room. “But I want to know everything I missed, pumpkin.”

The two sisters spent the next hour catching up on all the moments they had missed in each other’s lives until it was time to say good night.

Y/N’s heart was heavy with emotions as she replayed the conversations she had with Xiaoli in her mind. She also recalled her deal with Namjoon back in the sanctuary. She had only recently bid her sister goodnight, yet the prospect of facing the scarred leader again loomed before her like an impending storm. The older sister longed to collect her thoughts a bit more before she had to face him again. For the last time before Y/N will become his wife, in the name of God.

Y/N made her way through the dimly lit halls of the luxurious railway hotel, straight back to him. Her steps were measured, each footfall echoing in the hushed ambiance of the hallways. She could hear soft notes of a classical composition she for sure heard before but couldn’t name. The calming cracking of the wood in the fireplace got louder and louder while she was quietly approaching the man sitting with his glass of hard liquor in a low armchair, manspreading — some parts of his three-piece suit scattered on his desk chair. His gaze remained fixed upon the fire’s dance, the play of shadows flickering across his face.

She could see his exhaustion, yet he was waiting alongside another glass of liquor that was placed on top of the fireplace, where he left it for her. Her approach did not go unnoticed. His gaze, deep and intense, met hers as she drew closer. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a rush of emotions as she saw the tenderness in his gaze. There was a softness to his features, a vulnerability that he rarely showed to others.

As she accepted the glass of liquor he had prepared, Y/N lowered herself into a chair opposite him. The air between them seemed charged with unspoken emotions, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

“You knew?” She asked finally, tears welling up in her eyes yet again. His presence only made her feel everything at once. His calm demeanour contrasted starkly with the tempest that brewed within her.

“I did,” his expression was calm and attentive.

“Why keep it a secret?” She said more as a statement than a question.

His gaze did not waver, his response forthcoming. “I wanted you to focus on us, sweetling,” his voice was both tender and unapologetic. Y/N’s lips parted, the words of reproach she had prepared faltering on her tongue.

“You want me to be a Buin, yet you won’t even ask for my blessing. It’s my little sister Yoongi.”

“And that my love, is why I’m letting you decide this. Will that union be beneficial to us, Buin?”

“I’m too biased to think of your clan matters, Kkangpae.” She clapped back at him, speaking honestly.

“And by only looking at you, it was decided way before I got to know.”

The young man was looking at his future spouse in amusement. “Actually, I planned to arrange a marriage between her and Namjoon, but Taehyung swept her away it seems.” Her eyes snapped back at him. The threat that her sister would be married off to Namjoon was loud and clear even before. Namjoon was a decent man for proposing a deal to her, but Y/N wouldn’t stop being careful around that man, nonetheless let Yoongi give him Xiaoli.

“Therefore, I think the cards tossed themselves without me touching them, but still, this will be your call.” Y/N was eyeing him with suspicion. He never put any deciding matter in her hands before, nor did he share that much from clan matters, even when he suggested she could be involved as much as she wished.

“I want your word that he is a good man.” She said finally. With her glass in hand, she sipped the fiery liquid, scrunching her face at the taste. “Promise me, Yoongi,” her voice trembled, the plea she had held within her finding its voice. “Promise me that he’s a good man, that she’ll be safe with him.”

“Of course, he is. She’ll be better off with him. I promise.” He answered. A softness lingered in his gaze, a tenderness that bore the weight of unspoken promises.

“Father will be pissed.” She said to him, expecting any reaction. Y/N’s grip on the glass tightened, the cold surface pressing into her palm.

A wry smile tugged at his lips, a fleeting acknowledgment of the complexities that had marred their familial relationships.

“We have weathered such storms before, my dear.”

“Something tells me, this isn’t why you wanted me to come.” Said she, with determination in her tone.

A sigh escaped him, the weight of his responsibilities etched into his features. His hands raked through his dark hair; a gesture borne of frustration. “Can’t I just simply long for spending time with you, my dear?” his voice is gentle and inviting.

“It’s more than that,” she pressed, a knowing glint in her eyes.

“You constantly keep disobeying me, love.” He said a bit more harshly than he wanted. Y/N frowned slightly. She knew he was right; she had been defying his orders and going against his wishes, seeking an escape route whenever she could.

“How did you manage to sway them all? My mother, my sister, even Kai.” She asked suddenly, her voice held a venomous edge. A chuckle escaped him, laden with both amusement and resignation. Frustration bubbled within her, an anger and sorrow that had remained carefully concealed.

“Maybe because they know this is God’s will, and it was meant to be.” He straightened himself in the chair, fighting his own fight with his frustrated mind. The young leader thanked and prayed to God every night for granting him her as a life companion. He, however, knew that she needed to be tamed.

Frustration bubbled within her, an anger and sorrow that had remained carefully concealed. The next words just happened to be forbidding the unforgivable.

“To hell with you and your God,” the words escaped her lips in a defiant hiss, a proclamation that cut through the air like a blade. And this was the last straw for Yoongi. The brave antique she illuminated just a second ago changed once she found herself being handled with a punishing grip on one of her arms. A swift, unrelenting grip it was. He seized her arm, his fingers biting into her flesh.

“Let me go!” She screamed and desperately tried to twirl out of his hold. Panic surged within her; her struggles met with a strength that left her powerless.

“Enough of this insolence,” he hissed, his grip unyielding. Y/N’s world tilted as he pressed her down upon his desk, her body held captive beneath the weight of his resolve.

“You want to be a brat? You want to disobey me and the lord? —” he said through gritted teeth. “I’ve indulged your defiance for far too long,” he muttered, his voice a mixture of anger and resignation. The room seemed to close in around her.

“I’m done with this behaviour, and you’re done too, my love.” He spat out right next to her ear. Only cries and whimpers come out of her. She was immobilized, her world reduced to the commanding force that held her captive. Y/N heard the rustle of his belt, and she awaited the worst. The air seemed to thicken with tension, each moment stretching into an eternity.

“Yoongi…please, I’ll be good. I’m sorry.” She pleaded, crying her heart out, her pleas an offering of surrender. The scarred leader tied her hands with the belt, and she felt a bit of relief he wouldn’t use the belt on her.

“You will learn your place, my love,” his words were a declaration, a promise that hung heavy in her soul.

“I was too good to you—” said he, caressing her delicate heart-shaped bottom.

“Let me hear some gratitude, darling, thank your Kkangpae for his hospitality.” Said he before he landed the first slap on her butt cheeks.

She was squirming on the wooden chair in the main dining hall, trying to find a more comfortable position to sit. A vain attempt to find solace for her aching body. The sting of Yoongi’s preaching present. Her once-delicate bottom now bore the imprint of his reprimand. Regret gnawed at her; a bitter pill she had been compelled to swallow. She was not sure what part of that sentence angered him more. That she cursed at him or his almighty. Perhaps, she mused, it was the amalgamation of both that had pushed him to the edge.

That won’t ease the pain she feels now. Thoughts circled her mind with Xiaoli and Taehyung’s chatter in the background. He joined her family at breakfast before she was to prepare for the afternoon ceremony.

There was an undeniable magnetism between Taehyung and her younger sister. Y/N spotted how soft and endearing Taehyung was with her sister and there was no doubt that he indeed took an interest in the younger female. It was their mother who looked more anxious now.

“Is everything fine, Ma?” Xiaoli asked, eating her soft-boiled egg that had been served just a minute ago. Very western. But nobody was surprised as this hotel attracted noble people from every corner of the world. The surroundings and necessities were adjusted to be more international.

“Oh yes my dear, I’m just worried your father will be in distress again.” The older female said, sipping on her tea instead of elaborating more. Y/N knew very well that by distress she meant anger. The Min clan was messing with all his plans and that made him a ticking bomb.

“And you Y/N?” Her sister turned his eyesight at her. Y/N offered a soft smile and a nod – a half-truth. She could not bring herself to tell her the truth when she knew her loyalty belonged more to her husband-to-be and not to her anymore.

“Did you sleep well, my child?” Her mother asked with a prying tone. It almost felt like she knew what happened.

“Like a baby.” Her response veiled in ironic sarcasm. Y/N slept, the few hours she was granted, most of the time on her belly. It was her last night sleeping alone as Yoongi graciously reminded her before he tucked her in the sheets, biding her sweet dreams before he finally left her.

She wondered whether he was in his office as she hadn’t seen him yet this morning. And she was grateful for that. She had yearned for more time – time to think, to grapple with the complexities of her new reality. But her desires were a luxury she could ill afford.

“Very well, ladies. I shall see you later today, I still have some work to do.” Taehyung announced, getting up from his chair. Y/N watched how her sister pouted that he had to leave and smiled once he kissed her forehead, giving her goodbye. A shadow of melancholy that crept into her heart.

She wished her life would turn out differently, somewhere overseas, with someone she would love dearly and the sight of her sister’s happiness, pinched a bit of sadness in her heart. Y/N was happy that her sister had the chance to fall in love and she still hoped that it was in the stars for her too.

“Everyone knows.” Said Xiaoli suddenly when Taehyung was too far away to hear. Xiaoli’s words bore a weight of knowledge, a revelation that pulled Y/N from her introspection.

“Know what?” Y/N’s query was tinged with confusion, her sister’s words veiled in mystery.

“Everyone knows that Kkangpae disciplined you last night.” Xiaoli’s revelation sliced through the air, a truth that echoed like a damning verdict, unwelcome yet acknowledged.

“What did you do, child?” said her mother, putting her cup down, expecting an answer.

“I cursed at him and God, Ma.” Y/N’s voice was hushed, almost sheepish in its admission. Rightfully, her mother gasped, placing her hands at her mouth, successfully attracting attention to their table.

“Did you at least apologise?” Xiaoli asked, not surprised why the leader decided to lecture her sister that way.

“I did.” Said Y/N a bit sturdier, gulping down the rest of her jasmine tea.

“You’re lucky,” Xiaoli’s voice was tinged with a mix of sympathy and pragmatism. “Taehyung-oppa said that Kkangpae Min doesn’t take kindly when someone challenges the divine.” Y/N stopped listening once she said ‘Kkangpae’. She wanted to forget about him, just for a single moment.

“Y/N—” her mother began, her voice a delicate entreaty “—I understand that this is hard to take in, but don’t disown your beliefs because you don’t agree with the lord’s plan for you. Accept it and move on.” She knew her mother meant well. After all, she wanted all her children to be happy. Y/N gazed over at yet again the silent little boy who was sitting next to her the whole time.

“I know, Ma.” She sighed. Y/N smiled softly at her younger brother who was playing with his breakfast. His small frame bore the mark of his premature birth. She remembers her mother’s cries that echoed in the house that night. Father was so happy to have a son to care about that the mother of all his children almost died.

Her thoughts meandered to the countless women she had seen succumb to childbirth; their lives stolen by the very act that should have brought forth life. Enough for her to push the ideology of having children unless she is completely ready. Therefore, she did not hesitate to supply her body with herbs that had contraceptive effects, nor she did not forget to mark down her ovulation every time after her monthly bleeding. Y/N knew very well that it wouldn’t fly with Yoongi if she managed to somehow use the diaphragm, nor she did not expect him to support the newfound usage of condoms.

Any contraceptive method was banned and taboo in every syndicate clan. Y/N knew she had to perform her duties as a leader’s wife, but if nature can help her to prevent certain aspects of their marriage, she will keep fighting this way. 

She knew that her choices would not be met with approval, least of all by Yoongi. Y/N’s resolve to wield these methods was both an assertion of her agency and a form of silent rebellion.

The seconds refused to align with her favour. Seated before a vanity mirror, her porcelain features were delicately adorned with touches of makeup and her hair arranged with golden dragonfly pins with pearls hanging from them. Her mother’s careful hands combed through her hair just minutes ago, an act woven with generations of tradition.

“I think I need to breathe some air, ma.” Y/N’s voice was a soft exhale. The older woman paused in her actions, her reflection in the mirror meeting her daughter’s gaze. She saw the mixture of emotions in Y/N’s eyes, and her heart ached for the turmoil her child was going through. Wrapping her arms around Y/N, her mother embraced her, a comforting cocoon against the tempest outside. It wasn’t just a mother holding her daughter; it was a transfer of strength, a promise of unwavering support.

“You’re going to be alright, Y/N,” her mother’s whisper was a soothing lullaby to the young woman’s anxieties. “You’ll always pull through, no matter what.”

With her eyes closed, she leans into her mother’s embrace. The scent of her mother’s familiar perfume enveloped her, grounding her in the present while still connecting her to the past. She felt the love and understanding that flowed between them, the unspoken bond that only a mother and daughter could share.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N nodded. She turned and walked towards the door, sliding it open and walking down the corridor, aiming for the hotel’s backyard.

As the muffled sounds of the bustling wedding preparations reverberated around her, Y/N passed the office, an unspoken knowledge suggesting the presence of the mastermind behind the occasion – the man she was meant to stand beside. She couldn’t see him before the wedding ceremony, for which she was quite relieved. It gave her time to prepare herself to face him again.

The coat draped over her shoulders provided a semblance of warmth, though the chill in the air seemed to seep into her very bones.

“Y/N?” The voice was a jarring intrusion, a reminder of the entanglements she couldn’t escape.

“Kai?” Her response mirrored his tone, a mixture of guarded curiosity and exasperation.

“Where are you going?” His question hung in the air.

“To get some air,” she replied, her words etched with an undercurrent of defiance. “Why do you care?”

“You’re supposed to be getting ready for the wedding,” his words were a stark reminder of the expectations that bore down on her. Of course, he was brainwashed by his new leader too.

“We never got the chance to talk, Kai,” her voice carried an edge, an unresolved tension underscoring her words, looking over the snowy garden.

“About?” His inquiry followed her like a shadow.

“About you aiding my escape from China and then delivering me into the hands of the enemy,” her words, though uttered calmly, carried the weight of her resentment. She was feeling petty after all.

“That’s done and dusted, Y/N. Regardless, he would have come for you,” Kai’s response was clinical, devoid of remorse.

“What was auntie’s grand plan?” she deflected the subject, a sore point that neither of them could escape.

“Didn’t you read her letter? She explained,” Kai’s words alluded to a topic that was fraught with emotion.

“Yoongi hasn’t given it to me yet.”

“If you would be behaving yourself, you would already know everything you need, Y/N.”

“Ah yes. Everybody seems to have a sudden surge of loyalty to my husband-to-be,” her tone was laced with bitter irony.

“He’s the better leader,” Kai’s response was swift.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, Y/N. If only you’d finally submit, you would see that too.”

“Why didn’t you tell me when you were helping me escape?” She ignored his words, stepping outside, a rush of fresh air greeting her.

“Because I know your stubbornness is your biggest weakness, Y/N. You wouldn’t have listened nor go willingly.”

“No, I wouldn’t have. But at least I would’ve had the freedom to choose which all of you graciously took from me.”

“You’d rather be the wife of that imbecile?” His words held a venomous edge.

“No Kai—”

“Then be fucking grateful for once,” a sentiment she had heard all too often.

“Is everything alright down here?” A new presence interrupted their tense exchange.

“As it should be Chan-yeol-hyung.” Kai’s response dripped with a veiled hostility.

“Y/N?” Chan-yeol’s voice sought her, his demeanour slightly more composed.

“Why don’t you mind your business, Chan-yeol?” Kai’s frustration was palpable.

“I’m just checking on Buin, brother-in-law,” Chan-yeol’s attempt at levity did little to alleviate the tension. Y/N did not understand what happened between these two males. But she was not willing to listen to their bickering.

“You both need to calm down,” Y/N’s voice cut through the fray, an appeal for some semblance of peace.

“Whatever,” Kai’s final word hung in the air as he stormed away, leaving Y/N to face the biting cold on her own.

“He needs to reset his mind.” Chan-yeol’s words were a bridge to a conversation she wasn’t sure she wanted.

“That’s quite ironic coming from you,” her retort was quick, her scepticism evident.

“I’ve reset my mind, Y/N,” his voice held a hint of resignation, his lips falling into thin lines.

“Have you now?”

“Yes. I almost regret having to do it again.”

“What do you mean-” Y/N did not manage to ask him as he pressed a white cloth against her mouth, her head immobilized by his firm grip. 

“You wanted to have a choice? Here it is.” She heard very few words before her eyes shut down.

I N T E R L O G U E

The smaller woman was running down the corridor. The sight she had beheld just moments ago had etched itself in her mind – her sister, her flesh and blood, being mercilessly torn away. She stumbled down the passage, her frantic steps echoing like the drumbeats of impending doom. Her heart was furiously beating, and her head started to spin when she realised the weight of this situation, breathing shallow.

“Taehyung-oppa!” Her voice, laced with desperation and fear, pierced the air like a knife. Tears blurred her vision, turning the world into a watery haze. Her trembling hands found the wooden door, and with an almost violent push, she thrust it open, her heartache and panic leaving no room for politeness or formality.

In the room, seven pairs of eyes, all shades of intensity and authority, snapped to attention at the intrusion, landing on her distressed form. Taehyung, positioned by the fireplace, lowered the crystal glass he had been nursing, his gaze zeroing in on her. His sharp eyes swept over her, taking in her dishevelled appearance, her tear-stained cheeks.

“Why are you crying, what happened, love?” Taehyung’s voice, soft yet commanding. Of course, she interrupted an important meeting, but none of the big seven could withstand their women crying without knowing the cause and therefore the urgency of the meeting was momentarily forgotten; when a woman wept, the world paused.

“Oppa—” Her voice quivered, a sob escaping her lips as her gaze flitted around the room, acutely aware of the attention fixed upon her.

“It’s okay, speak, girl.” The words, uncharacteristically gentle from the Kkangpae, coaxed her and pushed her to sing.

“He took her.” Her words, almost lost in her sobs, hung in the air, a chilling revelation that sent shockwaves through the room. The Kkangpae stiffened in his seat, starting to see red.

“Took who.” He worked out, even though he already knew. His voice, a rumbling undercurrent of controlled anger, demanded answers he already suspected.

“Y/N.” A loud bang echoed through the room, an ear-piercing sound of broken glass followed.

“Who took her, Xiaoli-beloved?” Taehyung approached her, grabbing her hands into his.

“I didn’t see, his back was facing me, oppa, but he looked like Chan-yeol.” She cast her gaze to the formidable figure at the head of the room, the Kkangpae, the leader, her sister’s lover.

“Namjoon, greet Yamamoto’s with Jimin-ah, —” the Kkangpae’s voice cut through the charged atmosphere, his orders delivered with a chilling finality.

“Hoseok, Jungkook,” his words were a decree, swift and unyielding “I want Chan-yeol alive, anyone else involved, dead.” The two men immediately rose from their seats, their purpose clear.

“Bring her back, even if it requires force,” the Kkangpae’s voice, a mixture of desperation and determination, reverberated in the room just like the song of the sorrow, the dead, echoed in their lives yet again.

to be continued

©pennyellee. please do not repost

author’s note: so here we are at chapter V!! ♥ Thank you all so much for for sticking around chummers ♥ for some reason this chapter got longer than I wanted it to be, I actually planned that chapter VI will be longest so far; to bring good news, I'm almost finished, however, this next monday i'm returning to UNI and above that I'm going to work too, therefore I cannot say when will the next chapter be out, but I promise I'll try my best ♥ If not full chapters I'll try to deliver some drabbles/fillers to you chummers ♥

!IMPORTANT! I'm trying to always make sure that you're tagged right in the taglist, however, there are still accounts that for some reason cannot be tagged, I have no clue why is this happening but I'm trying to figure out a way where everyone who wanted to be notified about Lacrimosa updates will be notified. If you have any tips or advice in this matter, my dm's, asks, replies, reblogs are open for you all ♥

shout-out to Bex, the queen @chaoticpuff17, for beta another chapter!

Love you!!!!

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not an expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.

let's be friends chummers ♥

lots of love, 𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

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#bts #bts fic #yandere yoongi #yandere bts #yandere namjoon #soft yandere #mafia au #yandere seokjin #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #hard yandere #yandere #yandere kpop #yandere taehyung #mafia bts #lacrimosa #myg angst #dark!yoongi #min yoongi x y/n #bts x you #yoongi smut #haegeum #suga x you #suga x y/n #suga x reader #historical au #bts historical au #bts yandere au #fic:lacrimosa

[mynameismckenziemae]

In Case You Didn’t Know Part 1

(next part here)

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x You

Summary: Jake and Charlotte ‘Charlie’ Mason (you) have been best friends since diapers. You’ve been there for each other every step of the way; middle school bullies, broken hearts, baseball games, grad school and the Navy. Jake’s shaken to the core when a mission goes south and he takes his medical leave at home, knowing you’re the only thing that’ll make him feel okay again.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI-this chapter doesn’t contain smut but future ones will, discussions of death and cancer, swearing, etc.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

Jake always thought the whole ‘life flashes before your eyes when you’re about to die’ saying was bullshit.

But as his jet plummets toward the ground and smoke fills the cockpit, he realizes it’s true; with one exception.

Every memory features you.

The engine failure alarms serve as the background music to each one that flies by. On the first day of kindergarten when you took his hand to lead him inside because he was too scared to go in alone. Being each other’s first kiss the night before Becca Wilson’s birthday party since seven minutes in heaven was rumored to happen. The relieved smile when you found out you were allowed to play on the boy’s high school baseball team since there weren’t enough girls for softball. How you blushed at his whistle when you walked down the stairs in your prom dress. The way you melted when he handed you the black lab puppy you wanted so badly after grad school but couldn’t afford. Finally, the heart-wrenching sobs as he held you when cancer stole your mom 6 months ago. He never wanted to hear it again.

Will you cry like that if he dies?

“No,” he mutters, picturing your tears, your devastation.

Is it better or worse that you don’t know he’s in love with you?

“Hangman, I need you to eject,” your voice whispers.

His brow furrows. You’ve never called him by his callsign.

“Charlie?” He mumbles, unconsciousness fighting to pull him under.

“HANGMAN! EJECT!” Rooster screams, pleading over the radio.

He snaps out of it and adrenaline pumps through his veins when he sees the ground rapidly approaching.

Everything goes black when he pulls the ejection handle.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

“…recovery is at least 12 weeks. We’ll get you transferred to NHCP-“

“No. I’m going home,” Jake interrupts the doctor. He hates everything medical; between the needles, blood, fluorescent lighting, antiseptic smells, he feels like he could crawl out of his skin.

“Lt. Seresin, you’re going to need a lot of assistance. Help showering, stairs are out of the question, you can’t drive, daily physical therapy-“

“I know. I’ll have help at home and I know a great physical therapist,” Jake says in a tone that leaves no room for discussion.

The doctor hesitates before resigning with a sigh. “Alright. I’ll get the write the orders and finish your discharge paperwork so we can get you out of here.”

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

A loud crash from your front porch has you sitting straight up in bed with a racing heart.

The hair on your dog’s (named Cash, after the Man in Black himself) back stands straight up as he growls low in his throat.

You slip out of bed and pick up the baseball bat you keep by your bed before creeping down the hall behind your dog.

“Charlie? It’s me,” Jake groans through the door. Cash relaxes when he hears Jake’s familiar voice and his tail starts to wag excitedly.

You drop the bat and throw it open. “What are you doing here at 5 in the morning?!” You laugh, but it dies when you see him on the ground. “Oh my God, Jake! What happened?! Are you okay?!” You gasp, crouching to help him onto his back. Cash stays back, sensing something isn’t right.

“I lost my balance on the step trying to juggle my suitcase and these fucking crutches,” he grits out, trying to right himself.

“Leave the crutches. I’ll hand them to you once I get you up. On three, okay? 1,2,3,” you say, hoisting him to his feet. Well, foot.

But before you can hand him the crutches, he wraps you in a tight hug with a choked sob.

“Oh Jake,” you whisper, tears prickling in your own eyes. You’ve only seen him cry a handful of times, and never like this.

You rub soothing circles on his back, only releasing him when he finally relaxes. “Let’s get you inside and off that leg.”

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

“You look like awful,” you observe as you get him settled on your couch.

“Thanks,” he grimaces when you elevate his foot.

“What am I working with here?” You nod to his cast.

“Fractured the 2 bones in my lower leg. Nothing else is broken, I’m sore everywhere and my shoulders are pretty bruised too, but I was lucky.”

“You had to eject,” you conclude when he pulls his collar to show you the dark purpling.

“Yeah, in a heavily wooded area, hence the scratches on my face. I suppose it was a good thing though, slowed me down a little before I hit the ground.”

You bite your lip to stop the many questions on the tip of your tongue. He looks so exhausted, in pain, and not ready to talk about it yet.

“I’ll make us something to eat and I’m going back to sleep for a bit. You look like you could some too.”

He nods in agreement. “I haven’t slept in days…I just wanted to get home.”

“Well, now you are and can rest. I’ll be back in a few.”

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

“Here, take these,” you hand him some over-the-counter pain meds and a glass of orange juice once he has some food in his stomach.

“Thanks, I’m sorry to drop in like this. I don’t-I didn’t think things through, I just needed to get out of that hospital-“

“It’s okay,” you interrupt, unable to watch him getting more and more anxious. “Really, Jake. You know I’m always here for you. I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Charlie. So much,” he says, voice cracking. But he clears his throat and changes the subject. “This couch is amazing, but do you really need 50 pillows?”

You swallow the lump in your throat and roll your eyes. “Yes, I really do,” you say, smacking him gently with one of the said pillows before handing him the remote. “Wanna find something to watch while I throw these in the dishwasher?”

“Sure, thanks again.”

“Welcome,” you reply, ruffling his hair like you always have. It used to drive him crazy but now he relishes those touches.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

“Yessssss, Joe Dirt! I haven’t seen this in ages,” you say, throwing a blanket over him as you come back to the living room.

“We watched it last time I was home,” Jake says, giving you a look.

“Yeah, that was 5 months ago though,” you reply. Recalling why he was here.

Your mom had died early on a Tuesday morning. It was as peaceful as it could be when cancer ravishes someone so quickly. Cash was curled around your legs as you held one of her hands in yours, while Jake’s mom, Ruth held the other. Jake’s sister, Emma, played with the short hair that started to grow back when she stopped the chemo like she always did when she was little. Jake’s dad, Tom had a hand on her leg while he hummed ‘I’ll Fly Away’.

Jake’s family left once the funeral home took her body away after much convincing and reassuring that you were fine, and finally you could fall back into bed. That’s where you stayed for the next 18 hours until Jake found you, so empty and unlike yourself. He was on his way home when he found out Lisa had taken a turn for the worst, but she went downhill quicker than anyone expected. Your first tears fell as he climbed into bed and held you when the sobs wracked your body.

You’re not sure what strings he pulled but he stayed with you for 3 weeks. He helped you bathe and dry your hair the day of the funeral, making you smile when he said he couldn’t do make up. He held your hand at the service, and talked to everyone who approached to give their sympathies so you didn’t have to. He cleaned up her room, packed her clothes into totes, and arranged for the hospital bed to be taken away so you didn’t have to look at it.

“You could go years without watching it and be able to recite it by heart with how many times we’ve seen this movie,” Jake sighs dramatically.

“It’s my favorite. Can you blame me? Look at that mullet.”

“That’s what does it for ya? Maybe I’ll have to grow one,” Jake jokes, lifting his head as you sit down and resting back down on your thighs. Cash jumps up on the other side, resting his head between Jake’s and your stomach.

“Don’t tease me, you’ll turn me on with that visual,” you laugh. “Can you do the white-trash facial hair too? That combination? Phew! Panty dropping!”

He looks up from your lap and laughs for the first time since the accident.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

The tension leaves his body as your fingers run through his hair, and he’s asleep within minutes.

Your chest tightens as you look him over; the dark circles under his eyes, a cut under his chin has stitches that will need to come out soon, the purple bruising by his shoulders when you shift his collar, and his leg swelling above the cast.

Yet he’s as beautiful as ever. He’s always been attractive-cute as a boy, hot as a teenager but downright mouth-watering as a man. You started to develop feelings in high school and hoped when you went your separate ways after that those feelings would fizzle out, but they didn’t. They were always simmering on the back burner with the absence, rising to the top with every reconciliation and boiling over when he took care of you 6 months ago.

You aren’t sure how Jake feels. He’s always been a flirt but sometimes you catch the heat in his eyes and the way he reaches for you before catching himself. As much as you long to find out, you aren’t willing to risk ruining your friendship.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

Jake’s choking, panicked gasps wake you a few hours later.

“Jake, sweetheart, it’s okay. You’re okay,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his clammy forehead before you think better of it.

His eyes fly open and his panicked gaze meets yours. Cash comes over and nudges Jake's hand with his nose, whining until Jake puts his hand on his head.

“Take some deep breaths with me. In…one, two, three. Hold…one, two, three. Out…one, two, three. Good Jake, again.”

You repeat it until his breathing regulates.

“Charlie, we need to talk. I need you…r help.”

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

A/N: I think this is the first thing I’ve written without smut. Don’t worry, it’s coming. Sorry this was a little short, but it felt like a good stopping point.

Fun fact: Joe Dirt is the movie my husband and I watched the first time we hung out (back in 2009 🥴)

Every interaction is appreciated but I really like hearing what you think ☺️ Especially since this is the first time I’ve written something not based around smut haha.

Tagging:

@mamachasesmayhem

@its-the-pilot

@dizzybee03

@sweetwhispersofchaos

@shanimallina87

@blindedbythelightt

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#jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #in case you didn't know #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw

[buckets-and-trees]

Perfectionists

Title: Perfectionists Fandom: MCU Characters/Pairings: Bucky x Female!Reader Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: SHIELD Games is behind one of the best MMORPGs on the market. SHIELD stays on top because of the super employees they have across the board from the tech innovation department, to the story writers, to their game engineers - including one Bucky Barnes. It's his perfection that has pushed him into this position at an elite place in the industry, period. But one game tester always seems to find the most frustrating things to send back to him.

Content/Concept Warnings: Gamer AU; strong language; explicit smut: oral - male receiving, mild dacryphilia, vaginal fingering, genital sex, voyerism, masturbation

Notes: TRIPLE THREAT SUBMISSION for @buckybarnesevents WEEK THREE of Hot Bucky Summer: "Where do you want me?", my fifth square of @buckybarnesbingo B5: "Playing Games," and my third square for Connect4 Alternate June-iverse: C1 "Gamer." Gamer divider graphic by @sgt-seabass!

Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Bucky looked up as he heard Steve’s telltale footsteps – not the normal ones – the trepidatious ones.

“No,” he said, tone stone cold.

Steve stopped a few steps away and sighed, putting his hands on his hips.

“How long is the list?”

“Buck.”

Bucky shook his head and pushed away from his desk. “You know what? No. I don’t even want to see it.”

He stormed out of the engineering and design lab, and Steve dropped his head back to look at the ceiling.

Sam chuckled. “I told you, man, you should wait until he’s out of the room to bring in new lists of purgatory for perfection.”

“He never takes a break. None of you take breaks,” Steve said.

“'Attitude reflects leadership, Captain.'"

"Don't quote Remember the Titans at me."

“Barnes just needs to fuck her.”

Steve’s head snapped over to Nat. “You know what, Romanoff?”

“She’s right,” Joaquin added without looking up from his screen, but a smirk on his face none the less. “His blood has been boiling for her for months, it’s about time he stops ignoring that.”

“Shit, Barnes!” you yelped, clutching your heart with one hand and an energy drink in the other. “Anyone ever tell you not to lurk in the dark?”

“I’m not lurking,” he groused.

“What else do you call lying in wait to confront someone? Especially in the dark? Alone? Leaning up against the wall, no less.”

You knew you were far from the only person in the building, but this late at night, you were the only tester still around and usually had this wing of the offices to yourself. This was a side gig for you, you only did it because you loved the game and loved getting to preview things before it was even sent to the beta test group of users, but that meant you usually only crossed paths with the handful of other official tester employees for SHIELD Games like ships passing in the night who basically clocked normal business hours.

“I don’t see you turning on any lights,” he said as you returned to your preferred spot on the couch.

“I prefer to play by glow of television,” you responded with a dramatic tone.

If Bucky rolled his eyes, you didn’t see it. “It’s how I’d be playing at home, keeps me focused so I can help you do your job.”

Which is why he was here confronting you, as you had so aptly noted. “I’m damn good at what I do.”

“And the only reason you hate my lists is because you’re already a god damn perfectionist so you can’t stand when I point out the flaws you missed or suggestions to make your work even better. But that’s why Maria hired me. Your community manager knew the user feedback I was giving when you launched the game was excellent.”

Bucky scoffed and shook his head, crossing his arms.

“Your game is only perfect after they put it in front of my face, Barnes.”

“Shut up.”

It was your turn to scoff. “Make me,” you said and took a swig of your energy drink.

Bucky pushed off the wall and in three swift, silent steps was in front of you. With your head tilted back as you drank, you only saw him when he leaned forward, looming over you. You spluttered a little, and he smirked.

“You won’t be able to talk with this in front of your face,” he said, opened the front of his jeans, and pushed the denim and his boxers down his thighs in one go.

You would have roasted him for saying something so cliché in any other circumstance. But your brain was short-circuiting, and you were trying to rapidly re-establish the connections.

His right hand took the can out of your grasp and set it on the side table next to the couch, and his left hand cradled your chin, his thumb pressing on your bottom lip.

You looked up at him. Your heart was racing, and your pussy was thrumming. You were not certain this was real. He’d been the quiet one, a bit surly, but you had been surprised enough he’d come to confront you about the feedback in the first place and never would have put a penny on the odds of something like this happening with the gorgeous game designer you’d harbored a bit of a crush on but decided after the first week wouldn’t come to anything.

This was an unexpected side quest.

You nodded.

He pushed the tip to the edge of your lips, your tongue slipped out to circle the head. In one swift motion he gripped the back of your head and thrust his cock into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, and your hands flew up to hold onto his hips.

He used your mouth with abandon, and the hold of your hands on his hips was firm, encouraging. When you choked on his thick member, he slowed for a moment, then you squeezed his hip, and he speed up to his brutal pace again. This happened twice more, you having taken him deeper in your throat each time. Tears streamed down your face now, and he groaned when he looked down at you.

“You look so god damn beautiful,” he couldn’t help saying.

You whimpered, and he swept a thumb over your cheek, wiping away the tears, then brought them to his mouth.

He could feel the build of his climax at the root of him, and pulled out of your mouth abruptly, knowing he was too close to finishing and not ready for this to come to an end yet.

You fell forward, but he was instantly kneeling in front of you, ready to catch your lips with his. The kiss was hungry, and your mouth full of the taste of him made him groan again. Your hands tangled in his hair, slotting in despite being pulled back in a low bun. His hands had returned to hold your head as commandingly as they had when he was fucking your throat – one in your hair, one along your jaw.

When you were absolutely breathless, you finally pulled away.

Foreheads planted against each other, breaths still mingling, you licked your lips.

“Why don’t I show you what these hands can do?” he asked, one hand falling to your hip, rubbing his thumb down the crease of your thigh toward your core.

“Don’t tease.”

“Oh, no,” he agreed. Then with both hands, he pulled your hips to the edge of the cushion, hooked his fingers into the top of your pants, and peeled them down along with your panties. You pushed up to raise your hips so he could remove them completely, but your efforts were hardly needed as he used one hand to push you up, and the small show of unexpected strength made your insides squirm. He was built – you had seen it – but you hadn’t experienced the reality of it.

Bucky didn’t leave you a second to think about it any further as his fingers slid up and down your wet slit, he spread your outer folds and stroked your soft inner folds, and you moaned. Your eyes slipped shut, but you felt him watching your face. He was watching for how you reacted to each of his ministrations. He pinched your clit, and you yelped.

Your eyes flew open, and you saw his were filled with a mischievous glint. “Just testing all the possibilities,” he said.

You hit his shoulder. “I said no teasing!”

“You always want the experience to have more unexpected elements for the user to play with.”

“Bucky!” You did not want to hear one of your recent lines of feedback recited back to taunt you.

Except you did.

He was playing this game so well.

He slipped two fingers from that large, warm hand of his inside your cunt and began to pump. Your eyes melted closed again, and seemingly satisfied with his study, you felt Bucky claim your lips for more kisses while he pulled you closer and closer to an orgasm. It built steadily, his thumb at your clit, fingers in your channel, but when he curled those fingers and found the spongy spot against your pubic bone, it hit you instantly, and you cried out his name. He pulled your head into the crook of his neck while his other hand slowed in your cunt but helped prolong riding out the waves of your pleasure.

“Satisfactory experience?” he asked once your breathing started to return to normal.

You laughed against his shoulder, then pulled back to look at him. You pressed a kiss to his jaw, and he smiled.

“You know, I wasn’t afraid to poke the bear because you’re brilliant, I knew you could take it. You want to be the best, and I help give you that.” You reached down and took his still hard, leaking cock in your soft hands, and Bucky’s breath hitched. “Now, do you want to let me take you? I’m aching for you to fill me up.”

He groaned. “You can’t say shit like that.”

You nipped at his bottom lip and smirked. “Yes, I can. This company values my direct and honest feedback.”

He huffed a laugh.

“Where do you want me?”

Bucky quickly shoved his jeans all the way down his legs and settled down next to you on the couch, legs spreading wide. “In my lap.”

“Sounds just about right,” you said, straddling him.

His eager hands pulled your slick cunt flush against his groin, and you both moaned. You planted your hands on his broad shoulders, and rocked your hips just a little bit. Even that short back and forth of friction, his cock stroking your engorged clit, had your head falling back. Bucky pressed his lips to the column of your throat, not wasting an opportunity so inviting in the moment. You sighed and held his head to your neck where he continued to explore and mark you with slow, hot kisses, finding the places that made you shiver.

While you were lost in those sensations, Bucky reached down and lined his cock up with your slit, but that brought you back to the thrumming need to be filled by him, and you sunk down while he thrust up into you. He was thick, and he filled you more than you were used to, but not to a point of pain -far, far from it.

“Feel so good inside me,” you keened.

“No feedback?”

“Just fuck me until I can’t breathe, Buck.”

“With pleasure,” he growled.

After passing through two intense first levels of play, climbing to the final peak did not take long. One of his hands remained anchored at your hip to control the punishing but desired pace of thrusts, but his other steadily slid underneath your shirt and up your spine in a delicate way in contrast to everything else happening in the moment, including your lips returning to his in another kiss designed to devour.

Bucky felt you hit that crest of the climax, your muscles seizing in a moment of bliss, your pussy clenching hard around his cock. As you came down, he maneuvered you both to lay your back on the couch while he did just as you asked and continued to thrust into you hard, you boneless but in a blissful haze, unconcerned with trivial things like breathing, while he pursued his own pleasure. Then all at once he groaned and began to spill his hot seed inside of you, pausing for a second with the first ropes of cum, but then continued with deep, slow thrusts until he was completely spent.

It was a snug shuffling, but the two of you managed to get so you were both laying on your sides on the couch, your back up against the cushioned backboard, Bucky’s back to the glow of the giant television screen so all his muscled angles were sillhouted for you to admire in the afterglow. His legs were bunched up – possibly uncomfortably – and you tangled yours with his. You pushed some hair that had escaped from its knot at the back of his head off of his face, and he grabbed your hand and pressed a kiss to your palm.

“I think we’ll need to continue testing this,” you whispered against his lips.

You felt them curve into a smile before he said, “Thorough testing, absolutely. Need to explore all potential scenarios.”

“I’m glad you’ll be more amenable now to my feedback.”

“Oh, I never said that.”

You poked him in the ribs.

“Come on, you love the complex storylines. You don’t want me easily conquered.” And before you could protest, and claimed your lips again, this time in a long, slow kiss, no intention of leaving any time soon.

Too caught up with each other, neither of you heard the approaching footsteps, the gasp on discovering you, the moans they bit back when they gave over to touching themselves there in the dark, watching you, or their nearly silent retreat.

READ THEIR FOLLOW UP IN TEST PLAY

Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #buckybarnesbingo2023 #bbb2023 #hotbuckysummer2023 #connect4au #gamer au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes x y/n #female reader #reader insert #x reader #x reader smut #x reader stories #aspen wrote something

[zweetpea]

Freedom or Anarchy? Part 2 of 2

Cw: cringe, swears, innuendos. Mondstadt arc has concluded. Next chapter will hopefully be out by Monday. (Expect Monday or Tuesday)

‘Where am I?’

‘What happened to me?’

‘I wanna go home!’

“Time to get up.” You hear someone call. The voice sounds familiar, deep and most likely male (you don’t want to assume). 

You open your eyes and see blue. You’re still groggy from Albedo’s tea so you can’t really stand. Someone picks you up, supporting you under your legs and you back. 

‘Hang on, if this is Mondstadt… the only man with blue here is.’ “Kae…ya?” You say groggily. 

“She speaks… or are you a he? Hard to tell.” He sets you down on a couch in an office.

“This is the terrorist Albedo gave us?” Lisa asks. You can’t quite move but you aren’t as tired as before. 

“We’ll have to tie… him? Her? …Ah up! Tie up the terrorist.” Jean says. 

“Them… I’m gender fluid. I go by them. Sometimes I’m a he, sometimes I’m a she. But my pronouns are always them.”

“Well, at least we’re getting answers.” Lisa giggles. 

You say as Kaeya binds your wrists and ankles with rope. You lean forward onto him and whisper to only him. “Tighter, daddy~” 

“Sky, where did you say that Light and Paimon ran off to?” Kaeya asks, embarrassed and blushing. 

“We’ve met Barbatos, they went off to find him.” Aether says. That’s right, the twins didn’t tell anybody their real names. 

“We’re back! And we’ve brought a friend!” Paimon cheers. 

“Obviously this goes without saying but no one can mention this man’s true identity, okay.” Jean states with a harsh tone that you’ve never heard from her before. Everyone nods, except for you. 

Venti walks towards you and you look at him. “Are you the one Celestia fears?” 

“I have no idea what that means.” 

“The descender, the honored one, the adored one. Do any of these names ring a bell?” 

“No?” 

“Do not lie to me! Albedo said-” 

“Why the F you lyin’~ why you always lyin’~” 

“…” 

“Sorry I have a tendency to reference memes and vines. I’m Gen Z, it’s a part of who we are. I’m kidding, I think that’s just me.” 

“So the Adored One has a name, Jen.”

“No that’s-” 

“And these “Me-ms” and “vines” must be your sacred texts! You’re a nature spirit aren’t you!”

“No! And for the record I don’t think you are a god!” 

“Wow, the honored one looks down upon me.” 

“Boys, Girls, and squirrels, listen up! Because I’ll only say this once. I’m not from this world. I want to go home. The world I come from none of you are real.” 

“Honored one, saying “Boys, Girls, and squirrels” doesn’t help your claim that you aren’t a nature spirit.” 

“Oh for Shucks sake. Actually can I swear in here? I don’t think so. Hell! Bullshit! Kaeya’s tight Ass! Lisa’s big boobies! Mmhmm boobies~” you start to laugh maniacally. “I need to be put in a mental hospital.” 

“Oh for the love of-” Lumine cuts herself off and goes up to you then shakes your. “Pull yourself together long enough for us to get answers.” 

“Right, right. I’m just a college kid who majored in computer science and engineering. The world I come from you all are a game and I hacked into your code which brought me here. That “Boys, Girls, and squirrels” comment comes from a YouTuber I watch semi frequently.”

(A/n: Danny Motta is his name. He’s pretty funny. Go check him out) 

“How’d you heal Stormterror then.” Aether asked. 

“The sustainer of heavenly principles gave me her powers.” 

“So… none of us are real?” Amber asks. 

“Well, I don’t know how I’d be here if you guys weren’t real but to me you’re just a game. Any of you can be killed and revived at the Statue of the Seven.” 

“I suppose that does poke holes in my credibility as an archon.” Venti twiddles his thumbs. 

“Can I please leave now? I can take Dvalin with me and we can just leave.” 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. If Stormterror is still enraged we can’t let him destroy other nations. It could spark an all out war.” Jean says. 

“What if we let them stay at that broken down building?” Aether suggests. 

“I still think that we should keep Jen here just in case Stormterror gets any more ideas about attacking Mondstadt.” 

“So we use Jen as a bargaining chip?” Lumine chimes in. 

“Exactly.” 

“Okay if you guys are going to call me Jen can you at least make it Gen with a G? I want to be different.” 

“But Jean! Isn’t that basically asking Stormterror for a fight?” 

“Amber’s right Jean. If we’re going to keep them here we’ll need a plan to tame Stormterror.” Lisa says. 

“I’ll tame him.” Venti says assuredly. “We just have to keep them here long enough for me to calm him down.” 

“BARBATOS!” Dvalin calls from outside. “GIVE ME BACK WHATS MINE!” 

“Everyone! To your stations! Protect the city at all costs!” Jean shouts and everyone rushes from the room. 

“Shit! I have to get out of here!” 

“Master Jean! I’m scared!” Klee runs into the office. 

“Klee! Perfect timing, I’m your brother’s friend.”

“Your big brother Albedo’s friend? Why are you tied up?” 

“It’s a long story. Right now I need you to untie me so I can save everyone.” 

“You can do that? I don’t know, usually only bad people are tied up.” 

“No no! Klee it’s more complicated. You want to save Albedo and Jean and Kaeya, Lisa, Amber, Razor and everyone else right? Then you have to untie me so I can make Stormterror go away.” 

“How do I know that you aren’t lying?” 

‘If gold knows me. Chances are Alice will too.’ “Your mom knows me. I’m the adored one. You can ask her about me.” 

“Mom knows you?”

“Yeah, and you know about Albedos secret lab in the mountains right? I’ve been there. He told me about how much he cared about you.” 

“You’ve gone there?! You really do know Albedo. Okay!” She comes over and unties you. 

“Thanks.” You go over to the window, open it up and shout. “Dvalin!” He comes rushing to you at your cry and you jump out the window and grab onto his tail. 

He flies towards the woods and you land in a stone arena. “Andrius! I need a favor.” 

“What could the East Wind possibly want from me?” 

“Protect the Adored one at all costs. 

“How can this puny human be the Adored one?”

As the two bicker you quietly sneak away. As you climb out of the arena you stop when you see black boots and look up. 

“Who are you.” Diluc looks down at you. 

“I am iron man.” 

“Iron man?” Dvalin roses as he and Andrius start to brawl. 

“Can you get me out of here?” 

“Are you the one rumored to have healed Stormterror?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Come on.” He grabs your arm and hoists you up. He then picks you up and throws you over his shoulder and starts to run. 

“Hey! Am I just a sack of potatoes to you?” 

“Quiet down or they’ll hear us.” He runs and runs until you two get to a water bank. “Follow this past west and you’ll be in Liyue.” He tells you as he sets you down. 

“Oh wow. My own dark knight. How romantic. Well for saving the fair ward of the dragon you get a kiss, as a reward.” 

“No thank you.” He grimaces at you. 

“Oh come on! I was promised debauchery! You’re no fun.” 

“Just leave.” 

“Thanks for saving me! I’m coming back for that kiss though!” You say as you run off. 

‘Hot dragon archon here I come! Please be like a lizard and have two co-‘

#sagau #sagau x reader #sagau cult au #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin x you #sagau genshin #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #kaeya x reader #lisa x reader #venti x reader #amber x reader #aether x reader #lumine x reader #diluc x reader #dvalin #andrius #klee #genshin cult au #genshin crack

[totothewolff]

Season of Love (1/?)

+18 | Toto x reader fem!teamprincipal, romance, comedy, and some good drama.

Summary: One night on a pier in Monaco, while admiring the sea under the night skies, you tell Toto: "I came to the conclusion that love is simply not meant for me." That's the answer to a question you have been asking yourself for the longest time. But what if he proved you wrong? Author's note: Hi, fam! I'm nervous since this is my very first fanfic. I have been following this tag for a while now, and I got so inspired by all the talent here that I went and wrote my own story. Please be kind to me. English is my second language. I will upload chapters regularly - using this hashtag and on #seasonoflovefic. I have been dealing with anxiety the entire year; writing this has been part of my healing process. I hope you like it. By the way, this story is fun and light-spirited.

< Masterlist | Next chapter >

Dances with Wolff Arc Chapter 1: Engines on and hearts off!

Bahrain

It is a hot and sunny day in Bahrain. Golden hour is set, and every single person in the paddock seems to be in a rush. It is the usual chaos every pre-season brings.

Toto makes his way through the sea of people, cables, tire carts, and cameras at his regular pace - which means those toned and long legs going full speed - rocking this year's Mercedes kit and a new pair of designer sunglasses, phone in hand when it buzzes.

—Breaking news: After lengthy negotiations during the break, the De Vos Group acquired Williams Racing - as speculated. New female owner Y/N De Vos will be joining the paddock this season. The team's principal will soon be announced. Check our exclusive first look with her.

Toto reads on his iPhone after tapping the Sky Sports push notification, slowing his pace a second. He raises an eyebrow and gazes around, noticing many people in the packed pitlane doing the same, slowing the frenzy on the floor for a close bit. 

He reaches out for his pockets and puts on the Bose earbuds before hitting the play button. Curiosity is overpowering him - and, honestly, excitement, too - as he looks at the preview thumbnail. A stunning, tan-skinned woman with great, shiny hair and a beautiful smile appears in front of the microphone with a smug smirk.

—God, she's gorgeous —Toto lets out to himself. Continuing his way to the Mercedes garage. This year, it is located one spot before Williams and following Ferrari's.

Finally, something exciting, someone new. After years of dominating the game, trying not to sound too egomaniac, every season starts to feel like routine to him. Toto is hitting a personal low, avoiding calling it what it is: depression mixed with boredom, especially this season and at this moment in his life. Same old tracks, same old challenges, same old people, same old ways, same old Toto.

You answer the interviewer's questions with ease. You are very well-spoken in his eyes like you are used to doing press or public speaking, and you have a cheeky sense of humor. Toto gets captivated, to say the least. He puts his phone into his back pocket and continues walking while listening to your interview, muffling the paddock's noise.

You have a soft voice, a professional speech pattern, and excellent enunciation, reinforcing Toto's idea of you being trained at it. He detects some accent but can't figure out where it is from. He listens to the whole thing; it's impossible for him not to sigh at the stupid questions they ask you a couple of times. The more Toto listens, the more questions he has for you in his mind. He may get them answers later when he finally meets you.

So far, you seem like a breeze of fresh air, and Toto is desperate to breathe you.

And yeah, no question Williams looks different. Toto, as usual, ventures to inspect more than he should - and is allowed to - taking a good peek at your brand-new garage. Knowing quite well, he also is hoping to spot you in person.

The garage looks tech and minimalistic, matching your new modern W logo. Whites, blacks, and touches of grey colors predominated. The lighting, screens, and interior design look so futuristic, expensive, and dope; it's a whole vibe. It is a sexy garage! A phrase he never imagined using. What F1 has done to a man?

Toto can feel the desperate modernity Williams once needed and the resources. Of course, he knew firsthand the Williams family was looking to sell after years of struggling to win races and its economics. Toto remained neutral throughout the process, informed but not too involved. He had felt a little indifferent about the entire ordeal till now. 

He hopes not to sound insensitive. Of course, he has a special place in his heart for that team and its people, he first started there, but the businessman side of him knows it is the right call and best for them. Of course, it's sad, but that is the game: evolve or die.

He knows his investment is in good hands because last he had heard, and in Niki's words, it got acquired by a Belgian zillionaire, and Niki reassured him it was a perfect choice. He was respectable and trustworthy, and Toto didn't need to know more. But this sudden change - and announcement - took him a bit by surprise. Little did he know.

-

Gossip and theories fill the paddock. Supporters and haters - already - are all over social media, typing divided opinions as usual. It is the talk of the town, and you, you are the center of it at this point; there is more to come.

Toto greets his team on his way to his chair, already inside Merc's garage after doing his little on-site research. A couple of pats on the back and hugs later, he makes himself comfortable in his spot while catching up with Bono. 

Just as Toto is about to place the headphones on his head, the corner of his eyes caught Samanta, better known as "Sam" - a beautiful, thin, young, pale-skin, platinum blondie - Niki's assistant, hugging you goodbye and walking towards him. 

You wave Niki hello from afar and on your way to the W garage.

For the briefest moment, Toto's eyes and yours met. You are more petite than he expects. And you dress very classy and minimal but with a sexy touch. You match the new identity of Williams, or well, Williams matches your style. The Jacquemus "La robe saudade" dress you wear hugs your curves, accentuating your beautiful toned legs and great ass. He couldn't avoid staring you down as you walked past. Sometimes, he was just a simple man.

Toto suddenly feels the Arabic heat rushing through his body.

—Getting up close with the enemy, tearing down its walls, I like your style, evil as I would expect from you —he says to Sam, now next to him, as she takes off her access badge and picks up her tablet from a drawer.

—Bok, dumb. No bad blood! Just a friendly welcome to this testosterone hell, you know, girls being supportive of one another. I'm pretty sure you will like her, and judging by that look you just gave her, I guess you already.

—Začepi, dumber —Toto answers in his usual authoritarian and collected deep voice, but jokingly. He feels his cheeks turning red. —Spill how, when…

—We were roomies a long time ago. I adore her, she's great, strong, intelligent, kind, fun, and so damn hot. That's all you need to know for now, and that's all I'm telling you.

Sam is the youngest daughter of the Dobrev heirs, a very wealthy and old-money Croatian - almost royal - family who owns multiple fleets and half the country, like filthy rich. They are famous for being all platinum blondes, having many scandals, and investing in motor and water sports. They are one of the main Mercedes-AMG sponsors. 

As far as Toto knows, Sam doesn't have the best relationship with her family and dislikes talking about it, but he knows she cares a lot about her elder brother, to whom Toto hears her speak on the phone now and then.

After years and years of working and traveling the world together, Sam lets her walls down with Toto, becoming great friends and this sort of family away from family, although she remains pretty reserved on some subjects. He loves her like a little sister. She is pretty younger than him and sometimes reminds him of his own sister. Niki always describes them two as his annoying children, always teasing and bickering at each other when possible. The old man cares so much for them personally and at work, and they do, too.

Toto wonders if by "old roomie" she means ex-girlfriend? He has met some of Samanta's "roomies," and… Toto doesn't feel like pushing. He wonders if you may have someone... You know... As team principal, he has to learn about other teams' dynamics, right?

He tosses the thought off and gets in the zone. They have another title to win.

-

You hug Samanta goodbye and take a glance at the Merc garage. Sam is family to you, and you heard so much about them and F1 over the years, ever since she moved out of the Manor after having that massive fight with her parents and started working for Mercedes-AMG, swearing to make a living of her own and never needing them EVER again, a bit over dramatic reaction but that who Sam is and you love her that way. 

She is also your bestie; you two text each other daily. Thanks to her, you knew everything about everyone in the paddock: the good and bad, scandals, and more. Yet they knew nothing about you. For them, you are brand new and the perfect excuse to gossip about.

And there he is, Torger Christian Wolff, the guy Sam couldn't stop gushing you about. Damn, she is right, Toto is gorgeous. You would feel slightly jealous of their closeness if he wasn't Sam's cup of tea. But you can't get distracted; you have a purpose for being there, and nothing will get in the middle. Even if you are dying to meet him, even if you treasure every detail you know about Toto, even if you have been fantasizing about him for the longest time, not to mention being half in love with the man already or the idea of him. Sam made him sound like such a remarkable and caring human being. 

Niki waves hello to you from afar, and you wave back. You adore that old man. He is one of the reasons why the Williams family agreed to sell you the team. Without his support, it wouldn't have been possible.

You met Niki two winters ago; thanks to Sam, you explained to him your motives and why you wanted to buy a team, and he fully agreed to support you and mentor you throughout the whole process. He is a badass and one of the kindest people you have ever met. You immediately felt embraced by the Laudas. Along with Sam, they are among the very few people who know your entire story and genuinely know you, the real you. 

Back to the present day. You feel Toto's dark eyes set on you and can't resist ignoring them even if your life depends on it, so you look back at him. For the briefest moment, your eyes met. The desert is too hot, isn't it? Uff, what's going on with this heat? Damn you global warming! 

So you better hurry yourself away before it is too late and you dare to get closer to him. You reach your new team's garage at the speed of light, so it is fittable for the place you are at. It feels weird saying "your" so much. 

Everything is so different from the world you are used to, but you don't feel nervous. You are a woman on a mission, and after all you have gone through in life, you are not that kind of girl. You bear a challenge.

You greet your team. —He hasn't arrived yet? —you ask the aero performance engineer while he is placing green and yellow dots on the left side of the new car. You reached close to inspect the latest upgrades.

The car is beautiful, matte black with a powerful Lamborghini engine. They are your main sponsor and partner and the only one, which is insanely impressive. No million logos, no visual noise - it is something to see due to F1 budgets. 

Commotion and gasps come from the outside. While you ask the engineer that question, a frenzy starts in the front of the garages. You watch camerapersons and fans pass by, running crazy. Total mayhem.

Oh, there he is.

-

Toto's phone buzzes again - in the middle of that circus - "Breaking news; The legend is BACK. Michael Schumacher joins Williams as Team Principal, son Mick Schumacher, and the sensation of the moment, female driver Millie Dobrev joins him along as drivers."

The FIA, in its many attempts to be perceived as "forward" or "woke," has allowed for the first time mixed-gender racing, starting this season - about damn time! Millie is one of the top female drivers and the youngest, achieving a lot at a young age and becoming a serious threat to everyone on her way. 

—Dobrev… Dobrev?! —Toto looks from the photo on his phone screen to Sam and back; a very young petite girl - with sun-kissed skin, short platinum blonde hair with pink ends and clear blue eyes, a round face with delicate features - poses in a pastel color outfit doing a Korean heart gesture with her hands, fingers full of expensive jewelry. —Care to explain?

—Yes, did I mention she's my dear niece? —Sam answers, deadpan.

—The fuck —Toto says —Are all blond Croatians your family? —Toto teases.

—Hilariously accurate —she laughs it off.

—Your niece?! You are like twelve, how old is she, two!? Can't believe you are an aunt already. I don't know what to do with that fact..."

Samanta rolls her eyes. "Thank my gross old uncle with a young trophy wife?" she thinks.

—So you keep secrets from me, huh? I thought ours was special.

—You give yourself too much importance. And yes, that's why my hair grew bigger during the break. It's full of secrets! —Sam replies. Swinging her long, straight locks.

—What??? —Toto doesn't get her Mean Girls reference.

—Sometimes I forget you are prehistoric, almost fossil.

They both fulminate each other with gazes in a classic and frequent stare-down. Then Sam proceeds to cross tasks on her tablet, slowly stepping away.

—Don't you dare run away from me! You have things to explain, missy.

—Sorry, I'm so busy right now, unlike you.

—I'm busy.

—No, you are not; you are trying to gossip!

—I'm always busy. I'm this team's principal, to remind you, so yes, I'm important, and maybe… maybe… I'm trying to gossip… a little bit —Toto gestures with his hand.

—Could you two stop?! —Niki calls it quits, half annoyed, half laughing, struggling to hear clearly what the tactics team is trying to tell him, turning around on his barstool and waving his hand at them.

Toto and Sam laugh softly, and Toto makes a small O with his mouth while Sam pretends to adjust her invisible tie before returning to business and being professional people doing professional tasks.

Toto looks once more at his phone screen. —Impressive —it's all he lets out. Toto can't wait. He can't wait.

-

It's been a long time since Michael set foot on the paddock, after years of being retired and living almost exclusively to recover - after his infamous accident - and trying to enjoy being a father and a husband when possible. He became this mythical figure that existed in F1 and people's minds but is nowhere to be seen, making him feel like a ghost. Nowadays, he is doing way better but was getting bored of being a recluse at home waiting for the right moment, for that one sign that make it all start over for him. 

And there she is, in front of him, doing a fake courtesy.

—Welcome back, Kaiser —you joke with him.

—Hi, boss! —Michael greets you with a thick German accent and sweet voice. —Sorry about that! —He pushes you aside as a photographer flashes photos. The lens almost hits you in the face while two other cameramen bump into each other. —Better if we go inside. There's lots to talk about and to get ready to start testing. This is bonkers! —he finishes saying, looking at the circus surrounding you two.

—Okay. Let's go then, Schumi —you reply to him.

You feel ready.

-

The testing goes out smoothly for Mercedes. There are just a few sensor improvements and small details to fix, but only a little to worry about. Lewis and George seem happy with their car's performance, and the team feels optimistic.

As for Toto, his day was stressful; he felt exhausted after many meetings and people asking him questions all day, demanding his attention at all times. The hours went at an alarming speed. Somehow, the day is done, but the amount of work has just started. He blinks and is dark already, and the chauffeur is now driving him to his suite in a high-end hotel.

Tomorrow is a crucial day for the team, and his schedule is full of press, too. So he needs a good night of beauty sleep; at the moment, he looks like trash and feels like it. Toto likes to keep it real. He loves the attention of being under the reflectors and calling the shots but still isn't a massive fan of media day.

Speaking of the devil, he takes out his phone and opens his news app. Toto relaxes in the big luxury car seat. He has bookmarked several sites that cover F1, his long, unhealthy habit. He likes to stay current, even if he has "briefing" and a person in charge of doing that.

Even though he doesn't want to feel like a stalker, he pretty much is acting like it. Toto refreshes the app to read the latest news about Williams and you. He learns all he can of you from the newly released press articles; there is little about your background, past, or in general; all he keeps reading appears to be PR-approved since it is constantly reprised on different platforms, which feels weird.

Google doesn't offer him much either, just a couple of articles with photos in which you appear in various charity events related to children's foundations. It is like you don't exist online.

Toto reads your most recent interview and Michael's, and you both appear in good spirits about your car performance. He hates losing but loves a good challenge. A good old-fashioned on-track battle. For a change.

-

The bellboy opens the suite's double doors for him and carries Toto's things inside. It is a massive entrance and makes him feel tiny in comparison. Toto notices a small LV suitcase in front of the large door, next to a big antique wooden carved table, in the middle of the foyer under the soft dim coming from a stunning Tiffany's chandelier, which lits the room and reflects on the exquisite tile walls. The Arabic architecture and interior design of the place are breathtaking.

It means Susie has stopped by. Their relationship is in a weird spot, in one of those hiccups they face occasionally after dating forever and from a very young age. Their relationship at the moment feels monotonous, and love is lacking, which is slowly killing him. He still loves her very much but could sense he is losing her. Especially since they started seeing each other less and less - although he wouldn't blame anyone who has to bear with his crazy schedule - they almost stopped texting and talking to each other, too, and sex is nonexistent. So many red flags.

—Hi, schatzi —Toto greets her.

—Hi, Toto —she gives him a quick kiss. —You look tired.

—I am, but I'm happy you are here —he says, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his temple on hers. Soon after, he lifts Sussie from the ground into a tight hug. There is a clear height difference.

—I know. I'm happy to see you too, even if it's for a brief moment. I was hoping you got free sooner. Our jet has permission to take off in an hour exactly.

—I'm sorry, today was crazy —Toto apologizes.

—I can imagine. I tried to communicate with you earlier, but it was impossible to reach you; it was almost like you were avoiding me.

God, she knows him so well. Yes, he has been avoiding her - although not today, he honestly had a crazy day - but since they had that awkward and hurtful conversation at their New Year's Eve reception at their house in Oxford. Not because he is angry at her or scared, he misses her a lot. It's just he has been unable to decide and come up with an answer to the situation.

—I wanted to clear things out between us before the start of the season. I'm aware that from now on, you only get busier and more challenging to reach, and my schedule this year is also insane, Sussie says.

—Yes, love. Tell me what you need?

—Your thoughts.

—On what? —Toto pretends to be confused and not get what she is referring to. 

—Come on, Torger. Would you like me to remind you of our last conversation at New Year's?

Silence.

The last time they saw each other in person was months ago. He panicked after that conversation and left for Austria, calling it a business trip and a visit to his sister to spend time with his nephews. She didn't follow him around. Because it was clear he was running away and needed time alone without her.

—So... as I mentioned to you that night... You wanted to try for children this year, and I let you know I didn't see that happening this year or any year. And that I have been feeling increasingly lonely since you spent most of your days away. Honestly, every day, we spend more time away from each other. My career keeps taking off, and I'm not raising children on my own amidst it! I can't even imagine the idea of being pregnant to start with! Plus, you said there's no way you are quitting your job, and I'm neither, so...

—I didn't say that. That's not how it went —Toto feels his head hurting now. He rubs his forehead, exasperated hearing Sussie's Director's Cut version of the events. "It went more like this: I don't get your full attention at all times like before, I'm not able to control you as I once did, and every time you ask me to spend time together, me traveling to you or you traveling to me, if it's not the way I want it I always come up with something to avoid it. Plus, I never mentioned to you before that I didn't want children, not once in the thousand times we discussed family and raising kids together, ah! And I always blame your job as the reason why things aren't working between us." That's how it happened, Toto thinks.

—The point is... —Sussie ignores him. Throwing him a look. —We didn't reach a middle ground but chose not to break things off immediately because none of us felt sure.

There is a pause and a big exhale from her. 

—That's why I suggested exploring having an open relationship. We would establish rules and limits. I know you are more traditional and don't envision this for us, but I wanted you to think about it and give it a chance, not to run away and avoid me after suggesting it. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to be with someone else behind your back because I still love you, and I want us to work. I feel we both need someone who is present in our lives to touch us and hold us when we feel like it. 

Toto feels crushed. All he wants is to settle down, start a family, and become a good father - as his father was to him - he never expected Sussie to go in the opposite direction. His intention has never been to make her choose between a career or kids. This isn't the case. It is going to be a two-person job. Besides that, they have all the privileges, resources, and support to successfully achieve being both parents and having careers simultaneously. —This isn't the right moment for this conversation. I had an...

—It's never the right moment for you! Christ's sake, Toto! I..! —Sussie starts losing it and gets emotional. He can't avoid feeling miserable. Suddenly, Toto felt the day's weight on his shoulders and back, which was killing him now; he needed a soft mattress to lay down so desperately. He doesn't want to make the drama bigger.

—Okay, easy, love —he hugs her. —I will think about it and give you an answer this week.

—You promise? Won't you run away from it anymore?

—I promise. I won't.

—This week, Toto! —Sussie wipes her tears, hugs him once more, and kisses him goodbye. —Let me know.

—Yes, this week. I will.

She grabs her suitcase and exits through the doors. Toto drags himself to bed with the remains of his energy, tosses his phone on the wireless charger nightstand, and lets himself drop on the mattress, face down. As he drifts away, a new notification red dot appears in the news app.

Now, an open relationship looks like an acceptable idea.

He falls asleep.

-

The view from your suite is impressive. Bahrain's entire skyline of modern skyscrapers is lit under the night skies, and the desert surrounding it looks beautiful through the floor-to-ceiling panoramic windows. 

It isn't your first time in Western Asia, but your first time traveling so far from home on your own. This hotel is insanely expensive, and the suite is humongous for you by yourself. If you weren't so used to inhabiting a massive, almost empty Manor with you as your own company, you would have felt anxious in such an isolated, huge, and quiet space. 

It is already late at night to text Samanta and meet her to chat. You both have work tomorrow and need to rest. But you have so much to catch up on - since yesterday? - No, but seriously, a lot had happened during your first day at the paddock.

As you are relaxing in the bathtub - you chose a bath bomb made of sea salt soap and local herbs with delicious scents - you let your mind go through all the day's events. You can't stop thinking of that pair of dark eyes going all over your body. You wanted to do the same. You wanted to admire him all. 

You have created many scenarios of what it would be like to meet him. But it went so differently than what you pictured. He doesn't even know who you are or doesn't even care about you. You two could become friends in the future, but for now, your feelings for him are all over the place, and you don't wish to let your heart shatter, not again. Besides, he has Sussie - of course, you have no idea what those two are going through - and you, well, who would want to be with you and your whole "situation"? Your chances with him are zero minus a hundred.

You do your skincare routine before sending yourself to bed - for sure, you will be visiting the hotel's spa in the following days - already dreading tomorrow, a day full of meetings and interviews, you are slightly nervous about what the press is going to ask you, even if Michael does the heavy lifting for you in those matters, everyone seems so curious about you. 

You turn the lights off and pray for a good night of sleep, free of the frequent nightmares you experience.

-

The following day, the driver's parade happens inside walls, while all drivers gather together in a small meeting room - a very office-looking space with sad, white-empty walls, gray carpeting, and way too lit up. Cold lighting is the worst! No F1 glamor on sight - this is part of one of the new progressive and "brilliant" ideas from the FIA. 

Chaos is unleashed as everyone looks for a chair with their name tag.

—Did everyone see her? —Lando asks loudly to the entire room - filled at the moment just by drivers - He is sitting backward in his chair, on the front row, facing the rest. He is wearing his McLaren kit and cap, which is worn backward.

—Yes, we all did. Unless you live under a rock, you have missed that circus, but coming from you, it wouldn't surprise me —Checo answers, joking. 

Lando purposely ignores him and throws him a dirty look and a kiss. —Then, ladies… From 1 to 10, how hard would you bang her? Starting with you, Seb —he asks everyone.

—Seriously, mate? So… sexist… —Vettel answers.

—Come on, bee-guy. What? It's just friendly chit-chat among us drivers, as the FIA would love to remind us, "This meeting's purpose is to establish communications between all teams drivers, their principals, along with the FIA representatives to build relationships and sportsmanship among-"

—Stop reading from the sign, idiot —Carlos says, following Lando's gaze to the sad poster pin crooked on the open door.

—Fine, but let's be honest here: she's the most exciting thing to happen to us in a while, not to mention the most recent. It's not like we are going to admire new guy Yuki's hips. All here have excellent vision, and she looked so FINE like you pervs didn't notice.

—Speak for yourself —Pierre answers jokingly, coming through on his way to his chair, passing in front of Lando in that reduced space, trying not to step on someone. Everyone laughs.

—She is so out of your league anyway; why bother? —Max mentions from the corner, sitting stretched out, his back against the wall, legs on top of the chair beside him. —And I agree with Pierre, Yuki's hips are immaculate, by the way.

—If someone cares, I think my vision is starting to fail me. I will need glasses soon —Nando jokes.

—Don't you worry, abuelo! It's just you getting even more ancient —Pato adds.

—I thought this meeting was for drivers? I mean real ones —Alonso jokes back.

—Oh, mate, low punch! I saw some of her interviews on telly; she is cheeky —George adds, drinking from a Merc bottle and standing near the door.

—Couldn't sound more British if you tried —Bottas adds. 

—He is your Royal Highness, Prince George —Lewis jokes.

—More like your Royal Ass-ness —Leclerc adds amidst laughs.

—I saw her interviews too! It's like Ricciardo got female, but was actually funny and hot —Lando replies.

—Fuck you, mate —Daniel answers, laughing. —You know, she could breastfeed you.

—I wouldn't mind —Lando kids, hitting Dani - sat beside him - on the ribs with his elbow. Today, he is set to act like a naughty boy.

—Lando!! —four drivers say in unison, in shock.

—You're so gross, mate, I swear —Lewis adds simultaneously, palm on his face, half laughing, half wanting to rip his own ears off.

—I'm pretty sure that would be so illegal. I don't want to go to jail, Mr. Officer! —you say, entering through the door. Everyone turns to look at you. You overhear that part of the conversation; it doesn't feel mean-spirit. Then Lando's face matches the red color on Charles' shirt as he slowly turns around on his chair and sits - the proper way - quiet and still. It's a hilarious scene.

—I'm not into minors, but I could change your diaper and read you some bedtime stories to make you fall asleep. "The Little Orange Tin" you would love —you joke to break off the tension.

Michael follows you inside, laughing under his breath. You two take your seats and start chatting casually, two places away. You are seated next to Lewis - to your right - and to an empty chair with no tag to your left by the end of the row. 

You are already a fan of Lewis. And again, you know so much about him because of Sam. Now, he is her favorite person on earth. You feel slightly hurt by that fact, but he sounds lovely, so honestly, it doesn't bother you.

—Hi, I'm Lewis —he offers you a fist bump.

—Hi, Lewis. I'm Y/N 

—How is F1 treating you? All good? —Sebastian asks you, popping out from Lewis's right. Both their attention to you. Heavens, those are some beautiful eyes. You can't figure out if they are green or blue, but you don't want to stare too long.

Sebastian's actual chair is next to Charles, some rows at the front, but he sits next to Lewis because he feels like it. Messing the order. An anarchist at heart.

—All good, thank you —you answer. —It's been chaotic, but I'm enjoying it. And I'm eager for the first race.

—Me too. I always miss driving during breaks —Lewis tells you.

—I agree —Seb adds. —It is the best feeling in the world, so it's hard to let go.

Then Millie enters the room - pink cat-ears headphones on, rocking the new Williams kit: A minimalistic stretchy sports jersey, a white tee with black seams, and the W logo in black print at the center of the chest. It is a fully fitted silhouette with a high neckline and short sleeves, paired with some sleek black sports slacks. 

Michael and you point Millie to the chair next to Michael - with her name tag - she gets there fast and takes off one side of her headphones.

—What up! —Millie greets. —Hi, Sebs!, Hi Lew! —she says extra sweetly and high-pitched tone, waving a hand while facing them. That girl is like a walking cartoon. She looks extra petite and young among those guys.

—Hi, Millie!!! —both of them answer in unison, with the same sweet-pitched tone. It's a cute moment.

Then, the room starts to fill up. And the FIA representative enters, meaning the meeting is about to begin.

A very rushed Mick gets in, also wearing the team's kit. Millie raises a hand and waves it, catching his attention. He moves very fast to his seat. And behind him enters Mattia and Toto, chatting with each other.

Holy shit. The fact that Toto would be there didn't cross your silly mind. And since Seb swapped chairs. The one where he sat belonged to Toto. So the chair next to you is empty and available for the Austrian. You see Mattia sit on the last free spot at the front, and Toto glances around, confused, till he spots the space to your side. You see him walk towards you almost in slow motion. And you set your mind to "if I pretend to not notice him, it means he's not there."

You sense him sitting only inches from you, his arm skin almost touching yours. While you keep your eyes locked straight ahead, point to the FIA guy without daring to move. He stretches while trying to adjust himself to a comfortable position. He is tall and muscular, and these chairs are a joke. His knee moves dangerously close to yours. For a moment, you see the inevitable contact coming. And your heartbeat starts to rise. But it doesn't happen. Damn, he smells so good! How on earth are you to get focus? 

And then the meeting begins.

The whole thing is lame. You and Lewis laugh several times at Seb's under-his-breath comments and jokes about what is happening right at the moment. The German has excellent timing and good puns and one-liners. Those two seem like besties, Lewis being the "serious" of the pair; go figure!

The open mic section starts and the FIA guy offers the microphone around. Lewis instantly and discreetly crosses an arm over Seb's hands, and Vettel raises his eyebrows. —Freedom of speech, much? —Sebastian jokes. 

—What are you going to ask? Seriously? —Lewis tells him.

—I have a genuine question!

—Why I don't believe you.

—Like why? You don't trust me?

—Oh, I do, but...

—But then... let me grab the mic.

Lewis lets out a sigh. Seb raises a hand, now free from Lewis's grip. And the microphone goes to him.

—Check, check —The entire room pays him attention. —Ahm, I have a question for you all.

—Yes, please, go ahead —The poor FIA guy looks overly excited that someone cares enough to say something. Most of them, not to say all of them, look forced to be there, bored, and by that point, so done with this meeting.

—Gentlemen, a short view back to the past. Thirty years ago, Niki... —The more he talks, the louder everyone laughs. Michael loses it. Sebastian recites the whole thing by heart.

What an icon.

The FIA guy couldn't look more confused.

You hear Toto's laugh for the first time; he has been sitting there quietly this entire time. You briefly and occasionally feel his gaze set on you, but you don't dare to turn, look, or talk to him. You know very well that any moment of weakness from you means your doom. Back to Toto's laugh. What is that heaven-sent sound? You want more. How can you get more? Can someone get addicted to a sound?

—Blimey, I knew it! —Lewis lets out, shaking his head and also smiling.

With that question, it is clear the meeting has ended.

As everyone is getting on their feet, you feel Toto purposely caressing his arm against yours as he gets on his feet and then walks to the exit without looking back at you. Your eyes follow him around till you lose sight. Sweet baby Jesus, those toned arms.

-

Race day arrives. 

The Sahkir circuit is a whole party, and the atmosphere is to the roof. All drivers get in position after the entourages move quickly out of the way. The chaos on the track dissipates within seconds. 

Then, after the formation lap, the red lights turn off, and the violent roars from the engines fill your ears. Oh, what a sound, now you are addicted to it.

After a great start from your team and almost two hours later, Lewis and Millie face down in a back-to-back battle. Switching positions 3 times in the final ten laps. It is a monumental effort from the drivers, teams, and their strategies. Emotions are on edge at the pitlane and at the benches.

Millie crosses the line first, less than half a second ahead, and fireworks go up in the air. Fans roar, and you all go nuts! Your crew runs to the pit wall fence, climbing it up and waving as she passes by, lots of fist pumps onto the air. It's your first podium! Your? Like you did something, lol. Your team gets their first podium!! - better - it is a great start. And for the first time in forever, you feel alive and cheerful.

Amidst hugs and pats on the back from crew members and supporters, you make your way to the podium area, following Michael. He is dragging you along; you are in a blur with all that adrenaline rushing through your veins, the noise, the lights, and the crowds.

During the podium ceremony, when the Croatian anthem plays - you are now surrounded by all three teams' entourages, all watching the ceremony together and supporting their driver - you notice Millie getting emotional. It is a first for her, too. And when it finishes, everyone around you starts cheering and clapping like maniacs for her as she raises and kisses the trophy. 

Michael, right next to your side, takes off his white W cap before Millie, and she gestures a praying sign with her hands from high above the podium to thank him and thank you. You blow her a kiss just before rivers of champagne fill the place.

Millie is the sweetest. You felt a genuine connection from the first moment you met her - a couple of months ago at the new Williams headquarters - before she agreed to sign the deal. She trusts you, and you believe in her. So you are on this journey together and feel so happy for her.

You get so distracted by these thoughts and others, too, that you don't notice the place started to empty. When you return to reality, you turn around to leave, following Michael's steps, and almost crash into someone walking in the opposite direction. You are left facing a very nice-looking chest - mere inches away from your face - wearing a white Mercedes shirt. You raise your gaze from those fine pecs that belong to Toto and look at his handsome face.

—Hi... —He says, looking down at you, he is way taller than you.

—H-h...i —You feel weak on the knees.

—I-I..

—I... I'm.

You both say at the same time. You step to the left, and Toto steps to the left synchronously. 

—Sor..ry-y.

—So-rry.

You both keep talking over each other. So Toto moves aside, gesturing with his hand to let you go through first.

—Nice meeting you —you say calmly and quickly rush away.

—Same —he replies, following you with his gaze and watching you walk away. You feel he wants to say more, and you do, too, but it is better this way.

"What the fuck was that. Why on earth were you so nervous, girl? It was like you forgot how to speak!" You think.

"The fumes in the garage are starting to affect me," Toto thinks. "Is she running away from me? Yeah... The fumes are definitely affecting me. Damn, she walks fast."

-

Australia

Thanks to poor scheduling and the worst jet traffic, Michael and you aren't able to land on time. All tracks are being used at the moment, so you get sent to another terminal further away from the circuit. Qualy for the Australian GP is about to start, and obviously, you two are running late.

A Lamborghini Sian car is already waiting for you when you land. So you ask the chauffeur to toss the car keys to Michael. —We have like ten minutes to be there —you tell Schumi.

—Understood, boss.

You instantly regret phrasing it like that. Schumi is driving like a madman while getting directions from the chauffeur in the backseat. Michael pushes the engine to the limit, and the car goes full speed. You feel your body melting with the car seat as you hang for your dear life to the seatbelt. Ten minutes was a say, you didn't truly mean it, let's try another one: To get there alive if possible, this one you meant it.

Michael enters the staff parking lot at the Melbourne circuit by taking an extreme corner still at full force. The two security guys sprint to open the gates; it is that or get run over. 

Once you get in, you see him letting the wheel go a second, and the car starts spinning around - it twirls at an alarming speed. "Am I going to get projected out of this window?" you think. And in just one wild movement, he parallels parks, tires burning. The Fast and Furious stunts were a kid's play next to his. Everyone stares at the scene, astounded.

—9.48.00 minutes, boss —Schumi says. Turning off the engine while checking his Rolex Daytona.

He was insane for this.

—Well, I hope you are as fast on your feet as you were on this car —You joke, grabbing your purse and access badge while getting out of the vehicle, heels hitting the ground like nothing had happened. Because, above everything, you are a bad bitch.

—Are you? —he dares you. Walking past the front of the car, catching your step.

—Haven't you seen my legs?! —You joke. Toned they are.

—You make the 100-meter dash athletes jealous —He jokes back. 

You are going to get so many fines. So many.

-

You two make it to the W garage on time. You "fashion walk" there, according to the people who mock you. Since you don't feel like blending in with the mechanics - and because of your outfits and looks. The Williams garage is located dead last on the pitlane, so you have to walk in front of all other teams' garages to get there every time - expensive bag-swinging in the air, designer heels clacking on the floor, always wearing a chic something; dresses, shorts, skirts - as if they don't enjoy it! Of course, you expected toxic masculinity and sexism on your way, especially since your team is dominating! But not this early on.

—You are late! —Millie jumps at you.

—Let's not talk about it. I'm going to need therapy, thanks to that experience.

—What?! —She looks at you with a funny face.

—Nevermind. All ready?

—Do I look like ready? —She says, gesturing at herself. She is wearing an oversized lilac tee - at least twice her size - and a white tennis mini-skirt with matching white Jordans. 

She follows you to the dressing rooms right across from your remote office, where you quickly leave your purse and stuff inside. As you two get there, Millie tells you how excited she is that Sanrio offered to design her helmet for Suzuka before going to change.

—What do you think? Is it too much? —she asks you. Inviting you into her custom dressing room and pointing around. It looks like Minisio had puked that room out.

—Is very you! —you answer.

—I know, right!!! —she gives you a big dumb smile.

—Are your boobs out? —Mick asks while entering through her dressing room doors - eyes closed, arms extended in front, walking mummy-like - not seeing you there, obviously.

—What?! No! —Millie answers as Loretta (her trainer slash assistant) finishes suiting her up.

—Great! I can open my eyes then! —he says.

—I don't think there's much to see, Mick —Millie jokes while putting on a sad face and looking down at her chest. —Two lemons, barely.

—I don't think Marc from statistics thinks the same. I saw him trying to find them —He jokes. Mick gains a smack on the arm.

Millie's popularity has skyrocketed; she is already a paddock favorite. By this point, she had already rejected three engineers who asked her out - not because of ego, being rude, or wanting to break hearts - but because she is so clueless and a shy dork with zero social skills, in her own words: "I communicate better with cars and engines than with people, at least I know how to work them."

—Kids, kids! —you say, amused at the scene.

—Oh, hi, boss! I didn't notice you there —Mick looks at you, a bit embarrassed.

—No worries —You are glad those two are getting along well.

Mick drops himself on the fluffy pink oval puff in one of the corners. One leg up.

—Why are you here on my land? —Millie asks.

—Oh yeah. I came to say something —Mick adds like he is just remembering. —Yes! My father is waiting for you two to start the team's meeting. Everyone is there already. It's urgent. So hurry.

—Oh god, and you just let us know now.

The three of you get on your feet real fast.

-

After a good team catch-up and an impeccable motivational speech from Michael, all of you get to your positions inspired and ready to give it all.

As the Qualy starts, you turn to Michael. —You are a great leader, you know? We are lucky to have you —you tell him.

—I'm glad to be here, more than you imagine, boss.

-

Millie secures a pole position. Sparks flyed. Damn, that car was fast, and she, she was faster!

-

When the workday is done, you wait for Sam across from Merc's hospitality. It's getting dark.

You are sitting on a bench a few meters away, next to a tree with beautiful yellow flowers, looking at your phone and minding your business, avoiding looking like a threat near competitors' territory.

—Waiting for Sam? —Toto asks you from the other side - at the bottom of the stairs of their main cafeteria entrance - you raise your gaze at the sound of his voice.

—Yes! Hi! Will she be taking long? —You can't avoid smiling at him and sound slightly nervous.

—No, she is on her way, but I must warn you, she's been insufferable the entire day. She had one of those, what she calls it? A bad ha...

—A bad hair day —you both finish in unison. —Yikes! How bad it was? The hair? I mean.

—Oh, terrible! I had to look at it all day —he answers jokingly, putting an ew face. Toto walks towards you and sits on the bench by your side, stretching his legs and resting one on top of the other.

The truth is, Samanta doesn't have naturally straight locks; she has long, curly hair she straightens. And sometimes, some days, some weather gave her that wavy, frizzy, wild, non-combable hair.

—You are such an inspiration, a true survivor. Tell me all about your journey —You make him laugh, you love that. More, please.

The door interrupts you two as you both smile at each other like dumbs and lock eyes. Sam goes out, black Merc hoodie on, covering almost her entire face, overdramatic as usual.

—Rocking the Palpatine? —you tease her.

—Hilarious. Bad hair day. I look like Monica Geller on that trip to the beach beneath this —she says with sarcasm. Toto laughs. —Ah, now that reference you get —Sam rolls her eyes.

—Jezz, that mood, huh? A few drinks will get you through these dark times, my friend. Let's go! —you add.

—Oh no, I'm not going.

—What?! Why?! Why are you like this, Samanta?!

—No, why is humidity a thing? Who needs it?

—Aem, all of Australia's wildlife? —Toto adds.

—Shut up, smarty pants —Sam lets out.

—You look like Hagrid —he replies.

—Torger, don't test me, I swear —she warns him, fingers rubbing her forehead.

—So, when will you be available then? —you ask her, cutting off the bickering.

Sam opens her weather app to check the humidity levels. —Ahm, like next week? Not in Australia?

—Are you serious, dude?! I already booked! —You two were going to that Michelin star blindfolded dining and drinking experience. It was so on trend that booking a table there was Melbourne's most challenging and expensive thing at the moment.

—Sorry, I'm not going out looking like this! But for sure Toto could join you! He desperately needs to get some of that stress out of his system. He's getting meaner.

—What!? Me, the meaner one? —Toto lets out.

—What?! Sam! No, no. He is probably busy, and I don't want to bo... —you add, quickly, getting nervous while trying not to show it.

She interrupts you.

—Busy?! No, he is just in an antisocial mood swing. Toto barely left his office today! All grumpy, he was inside there. Besides, didn't you, my guy, tell me you were going straight to your hotel to lock yourself and binge-watch Love Island while eating ice cream straight from the bucket? —Sam teases him, well aware Toto is feeling low - more like heartbroken - Sam hates Sussie, but of course, she will never admit it publicly, and definitely not to him. This is her weird way of showing him her support by setting him up to go out and have fun with a great person instead of being miserable and all alone. Classic Sam.

—What? No. What's Love Island? I wasn't being antisocial; I had a ton of work today, unlike you —He answers deadpan. 

—Do you even own a TV? —Sam is seriously curious.

—Of course, I do! Several, in fact —It doesn't mean he watches them.

—You must be rich! —you joke. He smiles.

—Yeah, whatever. Come on! Get to know each other! Have a good time on me and my hair's behalf —Sam grabs you both, each by the arm, and walks you towards the exit.

—Is it me, or is she getting worse with age? —You address Toto.

—No question!

—Hey! You can't trash-talk me! —Sam complains.

—Oh, that's all we will be doing; we are going to talk so much trash about you, piles of it, that the garbage collector will plead to us no more —you mock her.

—I'm hating this already! —Sam crosses her arms.

Well, now you have a date with Toto. A date, yeah, in your dreams.

To be continued... < Masterlist | Next chapter >

#toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #toto wolff fic #toto wolff fluff #toto wolff fanfic #f1 fandom #f1 fluff #toto wolff x y/n #seasonoflovefic #toto wolff fanfiction #toto wolff #toto wolff x occ #toto wolff x oc #toto wolf x team principal #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #f1 x oc #toto wolff blurb #f1 blurb

[prettyboypistol]

Mercs first time receiving head?

Male or gender neutral Reader preferred

TF2 Mercs First Time Getting Head || x M!Reader +18

minors dni

Pyro is ambiguous genitals

Scout

In disbelief really, since none of his previous partners were interested in BJs

As soon as you got on your knees and offered, his heart nearly lurched out of his throat.

Def internalizes it as "well you're a guy, so it's gotta be different"

Probably wouldn't reciprocate that's some gay shit right there and Jeremy is NOT gay. especially when another man is sucking him off!

Loves how tight and wet it is

ABSOLUTELY fucks your throat when he gets too into it

Demoman

You two have to leave to the field in ten minutes, but you're both horny

You offer to give Tav head since there's no time for fucking and he enthusiastically agrees

He's very tentative about letting you know that there's no pressure for you to do this often

His favorite part is feeling your moans on his dick

A bit shy when it comes to deepthroating because he "I don't wanna fuck up my boy's throat if he needs to shout for a heal"

Would try to reciprocate at a later date, but he's honestly not that good 3/10 but an A for effort

Pyro

Pyro is very nervous about you giving them oral

Just like the usual fucking with them, no skin is showing except what the open zipper to the flame retardant suit allowed. Even then, their heavy shirt and pants withheld everything that wasn't necessary for sex

You like how vocal they are and how their hands run through your hair

They orgasm HARD. So much cum. As they ride the high, you keep going, only making Pyro sob in pleasure

They offer to let you fuck them as a thank you, even then they beg to at LEAST give you a handjob

God, there's so much Pyro loves about oral, but the intimacy is amazing for them

Engineer

He's a bit frumpy about the idea of "degrading" you like that

UGH he's such a southern gentleman you wanna rail him even more

"Listen hon, I know that it shouldn't feel as intimate as sex but- but your face down there? I dunno."

You assure him that it isn't degrading to you and that you're more than enthusiastic to give him head

He's down to give it a shot, but in the end after 2 minutes you can tell he's just not into it and he profusely apologizes

You spend the rest of the night cuddling your man bc 1. babe it's ok to not like oral and 2. honeyyyy i wasn't objectifieddd

Heavy

Damn. Like, DAMN. He's fucking HUGE

As soon as you see his dick when you two are going to sleep together, you wanna get it in your mouth as a bit of foreplay

You're a size king, but your jaw hurts not even 3 minutes into working down his shaft.

Heavy gives praise as you tirelessly try to take him

"Good job, most can barely take it during sex!"

He's very patient and calm as you suck and swallow around the head and the shaft. no matter what you did you couldn't get him balls deep.

Reciprocation is 5/10, also inexperienced but since your dick is half his size he doesn't have as much trouble

Soldier

Surprisingly one of the most happy to get head

Loves the idea of you sucking him off when he's busy

cockwarming kink 100%%%

He nearly jizzes on the spot with how warm your throat is

Reciprocation game is surprisingly good 6/10

Not mouthy per se, but very grunty/groany when you get him close to orgasm. Def will get noisy if you edge him.

Jane wants to cum on your face but he ain't gonna ask

Medic

God he LOVES the idea of blowjobs, like that's his usual jerk off material

He has an oral fixation, he always liked watching you drink from straws or licking things like icepops

As soon as you offer his eyes light up and he grabs your face to kiss you over and over again

He's so jittery in happiness as you unzip his pants, def doesn't last long

Reciprocation game is great but the overenthusiasm docks points 7/10

Loved the feeling of your tongue, the way it feels makes him white out in pleasure.

Sniper

Sees blowjobs as "Sex but when there's not enough time"

His danger kink just BEGS for you to blow him while he's camping out for an assassination.

Road. Head. Please. Mundy loves the idea of road head.

He's casually bisexual, so he doesn't mind giving head to you as well. Definitely has given head before and knows his way around a cock. 8/10 (-2 bc it feels impersonal)

Mundy's favorite thing about you giving head is how you look up at him. If he's driving then every red light makes him blush bc yes. he's looking. yes, he WILL blush if you make eye contact.

Will remember it for an absurdly long time and WILL bring it up like 5 months later

Spy

you know damn well you're not his first.

He likes the power of you on his knees and ready to please him.

He loves running his hands into your hair and guiding you to how to blow him properly.

Spy will reciprocate and is a 10/10 for practiced grace. However, he threatens to castrate you if you dirty up his mask.

Dirty talks in french if you really go above his expectations

not too noisy or mouthy, but get him riled up enough and he'll mutter french to himself

#tf2 scout #teamfortress2 #team fortress #teasing #tf2 medic #tf2 spy #tf2 demoman #tf2 pyro #tf2 fanart #tf2 engineer #tf2 #tf2 heavy #tf2 sniper #tf2 headcanons #tf2 mercs #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #tf2 x mreader #tf2 x male reader #engineer x reader #spy x reader #pyro x reader #scout x reader #demoman x reader #soldier x reader #heavy x reader #medic x reader #sniper x reader #prettyboy pistol

[chadfallout76podcast]

"Deah Shroud!: A Nick Valentine Mystery" EXPLAINED and AMA

It never occurred to me to do this last year, but a lot of people have asked me questions about our Fallout 4 play in the last year in the Discord, so I wanted to open an AMA but also explain "Death Shroud!" and some of the broader themes involved in it.

**SPOILERS AHEAD**

Part 1: Pre-production

Before I get into the story, I wanted to explain how this production even came about. Over the years after working together on some official community projects with Wes Johnson through Bethesda, we became good friends. I took a couple of his acting classes and he talked about the Fallout For Hope charity initiative I started and asked for help in organizing the gaming community for his Alzheimer's Association fundraiser. The idea was to host a month-long digital event of discussion panels, game shows, improv and a play with as many different voices of video games, film and TV as we could round up. In our second year of his VoiceAPalooza fundraiser, I wanted to do an original old time radio show and see if could bring back as many of the cast that we could from Fallout 4. It was Wes who first suggested an adventure with his Silver Shroud character (that he voiced in Fallout 4's radio plays) teaming up with Nick Valentine (voiced by the amazing Stephen Russell). Valentine is, for me, one of the best written, unique companions in Fallout lore.

So, I reached out to Stephen Russell who had joined us before for charity work and he was all in on bringing Nick Valentine back to life! After that things moved fast with Bethesda's Pete Hines and Emil Pagliarulo joining us to have some fun for a good cause. We tried to get EVERY companion from Fallout 4 that we could, but schedule wrangling is tough, and some people are just impossible to track down or find. Matt Mercer would've loved to have joined us as Macready, but unfortunately scheduling didn't work, so the best we could manage would be a holotape (the only reason our snarky gun running merc had to take the big sleep in the story).

After having everyone plugged in to reprise characters, it was time to put fingers to keys and find the story...

Part 2: The Deep Lore

The origin of this story started with a thought: how would the NPC's and characters we love perceive modification of their universe by us? We, as players aren't the true creators of this universe or these characters (Bethesda is). If anything, we the players are the equivalent of "lesser gods", reshaping it in new ways, unexpected and subjective ways, and sometimes even chaotic ways (I'm looking at you avalanche of adult mods with realistic jiggle physics and Thomas the Tank Engine Vertibird).

It started with a mental image of the small ways in which we start out modding games, or even the first mods we (using the "Engine of Creation) actually create. I had a mental image of Magnolia doing her thing, singing away sultry in a crowded and smoky third rail when she looks one way, back the next and sees new curtains. A subtle thing, something a little startling, but in a universe where recreational drug use is met with a YEEE YEEEE WHEEEE...a change you simply dismiss as being overtired or a little too juiced.

I'm a sucker for old time radio. I grew up listening to classic radio horrors like The Whistler, Suspense, and Lights Out on vinyl records and cassette tapes when I'd spend summers with my grandmother on a little island off the coast of Canada. Getting the tone, feeling and sound to stage an old-time radio show was the easiest part of this whole process...it's baked into my brain lol. The key of course is finding the right narrative voice.

Enter: Bill Lobley. If you play Fallout 76, he is the announcer for the "Tales from the West Virginia Hills" holotapes, but before that he's a prolific voice actor, maybe best known for his role as the truly vile Jeremiah Fink in Bioshock: Infinite. He has a FANTASTIC transatlantic voice for old time radio and was perfect as narrator in the script.

Part 3: What Is Going On?!?!

I had the base idea, the voices to pull it off, but what was the meaning and message of the whole thing? I always start there. From a meta experience level, the story is about dealing with subjective reality that’s being torn apart. After Fallout 4 launched in vanilla, we the players changed that world and reshaped it with mods. The small changes in perceived reality are meant for the omniscient player (us) and are not meant to be perceived by the characters themselves...and yet, what if they were? And if they were...WHY?! The answer was right in front of me: there's a difference between something born into a world and something MADE into a world.

You take someone like Magnolia or Nick, both synths, that obviously weren’t naturally born from two people. They were conceived as an idea...a human idea sure, but still they were made, not born. Without even needing to say in the script, the Trickster from the Grognak comic books who shouldn't exist yet does IS also an idea. Some MADE into a world but not born...a different world sure, but still the creation of it. Nick, Magnolia, any synth as ideas themselves would sense that the world was wrong and being changed in a way no one else would because of fundamentally who they are and what they represent.

Everything that unfolds is because Nora as a keystone event in the Commonwealth, a focal point of the causal nexus making her a unique entity in that world. A causal nexus is the link between a cause and its resulting effects and ignore the science mumbo jumbo, because here's an example of how that works:

The Sole Survivor, Nora, listened to Kent's message, chose to answer him and put on the outfit of the Silver Shroud. As a unique figure she shifted perceived reality of everyone in the Commonwealth by becoming the Silver Shroud, acting like him and making people believe that a fictional character exists.

Unfettered belief and faith in an idea = manifested reality.

Rejected belief and faith in the idea = dispels that reality.

This HAS happened before in Fallout lore in the instance of people with horrifying backstories and personal tragedies choosing to become someone else such as the Mechanist (Fallout 3 and Fallout 4) or even the Ant-Agonizer (Fallout 3). This time however it was a unique figure who did this, a figure fated and meant to reshape the Commonwealth for good, bad or ugly.

This opened a door, the door through which another figure could influence and enter a new universe provided it take the form of something already in it...a reality side-step into the form of the Mechanist. Concurrently, the moment that happened, reality counterbalanced by making the Silver Shroud who was already believed to be real BECOME real as the ying to the Mechanist/Trickster's yang.

Now at home in reality, the Trickster found himself very much alive and unbound by story but had very little power to do much at all. He needed something more, an idea and faith that already existed in the Commonwealth with the infinite universe of ideas made, but not born like himself. His goal wasn't power, it was to sow chaos, reshaping reality into a realm for any and every idea despite the consequences to reality itself.

So what did he need? The belief in the Old Gods and a focus point of belief in the idea: a staff. The universe is as adaptive as it is remarkable and where the Mechanist had its opposite: the Silver Shroud, the Trickster needed its twin: enter Sheogorath...because what better staff to tear apart and reshape reality than the Staff of Sheogorath. There is a quest added in the new Skyrim Anniversary Edition in which you can build it for yourself with a few items: Branch of the Tree of Shades, Ciirta's Eye, Fork of Horripilation. In this universe it would have to fashioned with things FROM this universe.

Two eyes were needed:

The eye of a True Believer: Kent Connolly

The eye of a True Seer: Mama Murphy

Affixed to the top of a staff of the purest heartwood from a Twice Born Tree. Living wood from Harold, born a man who eventually mutated into a living tree.

Lastly, it had to be soaked in the tears of ages end: barrels of radiated blessed waters courtesy of the Cult of Atom.

The Trickster had no magic of his own in this universe in which to act, but thankfully courtesy of some powerful allies, he was able to make contact with shadowy cults and worshippers of the old gods who gave him the name of someone truly of faith in the old magic to make all of this work: Jebediah Blackhall, who in this spin of the universe did unfortunately get his hands on the cursed book: the Krivbeknah.

Finding allies was all too easy, as the events post main quest left the Commonwealth changed. To many, the Sole Survivor and his/her companions would be hailed as heroes. To others, they would be villains, particularly in light of what Nora CHOSE to do to the Railroad to end the synth threat for good. That's a lot of blood on the hands of heroes...

As the Mechanist/Trickster, Blackall and the Lombardos began using the staff, its changes and shifts in reality rippled backwards through time, as changing one specific thing would change its entire existence. You change some curtains and the manufacturer of those curtains only every made one pattern...the world object becomes changed universally. Tapping into the Engine of Creation to make these changes, leaves anyone MADE not born aware of them as they don't fit into the design as it shifts around them. Nick, Danse, Magnolia would all feel and see it, be thrown off for a bit before settling into the changed reality state.

At the climax when everything starts falling apart and you get everyone from GlaDOS and the Joker strolling on in, the only way to end it all is to separate the Trickster from the Staff and restore the saved intended state of reality. The Silver Shroud finds himself powerless against the Trickster...only someone from this universe would be able to intercede, hard wired into the Engine of Creation itself as an existing element connected throughout its framework and history. After sending the Trickster off packing to the moon (thanks GlaDOS), but its a little too late for reality. It collapses around them, finding themselves elsewhere...the point between the mind, creation and the outcome of reality.

After the Shroud fades away, Nick has the power and choice to roll the universe, his universe back along the tapestry of choices that led him here. They all were haunted by the choices they made the first time around, something Nora couldn't live with...that ultimately led her relationship with Danse to fall apart. So Nick decides to go back further, as far back as he can go and he finds himself back in his office with Ellie waking him up.

There are consequences to what he's done, that he's not yet aware of, ones that will become clear in our next episode. The synths remember, as he remembers...Danse, Magnolia and everyone else remembers the fall of the Institute. They all find themselves at their starting point, moving towards their intended fated position to encounter the Sole Survivor. For Nick? He's starting down the path that will led him to be held prisoner and meet the Sole Survivor for the first time.

As he'll soon discover however, things don't play out the same way this time. Moreover, while he was rolling back reality to an early saved state, he made a huge mistake and completely forgot about something and someone so incredibly important...

You'll have to wait to see what that is...

#death shroud #chad: a fallout 76 podcast #chad: a fallout 76 story #fallout 4 #fallout for hope #wes johnson #fallout #fallout fanfic #nick valentine

[soullessmocha]

heaven.

{ karlach x gn!tav }

rating: everyone

warnings: light spoilers, mild gore, death, angst

word count: 1499 

like with most of my writing i rarely re-read and go over it. i am mediocre writer with heavy bg3 brain rot after finishing my first playthrough of the game.

Your body felt cold yet hot at the same time as you felt life drain out of you. You stare blankly at the ceiling of the foyer in the House of Hope, a demonic spike going through your chest. “You dare to mess with me, steal my from me! Look how piteous thing you are. Let this remind your friends- AH!” Raphael hisses in your ear, his new form causing nothing but the smell of flint and death before he was slain. You barely realize how far your own body was flung until you hit the last soul tower, it crumbles over you as your body splatters on the ground. The horrific roars coming from the devil himself only deafen your ears more. You can’t hear anything. Just the ringing from your head and the screams. You couldn’t tell if it was your scream or your adventurous friends. Maybe even your lovers.

The hot weight of the stone was being ripped off of you. It’s a warm hand that turns your body over. “Oh gods, no, no, no, no…” The warm, honey-like, voice soothes through the ringing. You were saying the same thing as your body began to get so increasingly cold that even turning your joints brought splintering pain. “Hope, please! Help!” Wyll cries out but Hope can only stand over you with a distant look on her face. Karlach ripped off your armor to see where the damage was starting, “You’re not dying here soldier!” Her voice cracks, it makes your blood-stained lips curl slightly. Your bare hand grasps her bicep, “Karlach… No,” you choke out. She doesn’t listen to you.

With your body being moved you let out a blood-piercing scream that even the tadpole in your head couldn’t stand as it vibrated in your cranium in reaction. It was losing its life source. You. Karlach settles you on the sigil glowing in the foyer marble flooring. It was so cold for a place that was burning in one of the levels of Hell. The shiver sent down your spine only made a reaction in your body to spasm, cough up more congealed blood that was threatening its way through your system. Everything was shutting down on you. You couldn’t feel your lower half anymore. 

“We’re going to get you to Shadowheart-” Karlach choked out, her tears being burnt down her cheeks. Something she hasn’t been able to do in gods knows how many centuries. She was supposed to be the first one to go with her infernal engine only being a ticking time bomb. Not you. Not her deepest of love. Not her very own heart. She covers the puncture wound with her own hands, trying to stop the blood from seeping through anymore. She could only wince at your whimper from the pressure. 

“Please, this isn’t how it’s supposed to go!” Karlach begs you, her forehead resting on yours. The warmth comforted you as everything around started to get dark and fuzzy. Yet Karlach was the only thing shining bright for you. In this moment her words of confession roamed in your head. It just wasn’t meant in the stars for the two of you but to go out with a bang was all she needed. 

You weakly feel your hand raise to her cheek, your thumb gently tracing over her features to memorize them one last time, “Out with a bang, right?” You couldn’t even recognize your voice, your hand slid from her cheek to her soft hair, feeling the locks one last time. Death was knocking on your door but you were fighting every second to be with your love. “You're going to go to Avernus,” you hiccup to get air into your lungs, “fix that damned engine of yours and make that bastard pay for what he’s done.” Your body spasms again as the sickly iron-tasting crimson splatters from your throat. “Don’t bring me back… Don’t ask Withers. You save the city. Save yourself. Then come and get me…” Your lower lip trembles as your world starts to crumble around Karlach her glow shining brighter as her sobs become more violent. She was shaking her head at your request. She didn’t even want to think about going through this alone, without her solider by her side. It couldn’t be done. Not without you by her side. 

“Please, don’t go.” Karlach whimpers against your cheek while she peppers warm kisses all over your cold skin, burying her face in the crook of your neck. “I can’t do this without you!” Her voice increases in volume and the flames dancing on her burgundy skin glow blue. All you can do is hold her close while her body curls around yours, rubbing her back with numb arms. “I love you,” you whisper in her ear but before you were able to place one last kiss on her beautiful face you slipped away. Your soul knew deep down that everywhere would be hell without Karlach by your side in whatever afterlife there was as it dissipated away.

Her back felt empty as your strength faded. Her body could nearly melt you away from how cold you were in her arms. “Tav?” she whispers noticing your arms fall by her side, caught on her armor. “Tav, wake up!” She lifted herself from your body, hovering to look you over. The sight horrified her. No longer did your eyes glimmer with life, they were dull. Lifeless. Your skin is pale and clammy from the damned heat of hell. Karlach gently cupped your cheek, her long nails gingerly brushing hair from your expressionless features. Your eyes were staring at the damning mural in the foyer ceiling. Karlach gently closed your eyes. Her warm lips pressed on each eyelid. Strong arms curl under your body to bring you close.

She stood shakingly, weak in every joint as a part of her had fled this realm. Tears flowed down her cheeks yet she was stoic. Unable to rest until your body was at peace. “I love you, **ph myirz.” 

You wake up in a familiar stone enclosure. Withers stood over your body watching you closely to make sure everything went right to his ancient doings. All you could do was blink up at the forgotten god. “Breatheth. Thee wilt beest did confuse and has't many questions. Howev'r, holdeth onto those folk and liveth again f'r tonight.  Th're is a celebration happening and many art waiting to seeth thee.” His dried hands help you sit up and bring your feet over the stone bed. 

Withers only gives you a nod towards the archway where you can hear music playing and chatter dancing in the air. You take in recognition of your own hands first, this is your body still. Nothing changed. Until you notice how quiet your mind is. Slipping off of the stone bed you run a hand through your hair, gripping the roots to set the reality that there is no more tadpole squirming in your brain.

As you walk across the tree bark others turn silent and watch you emerge from the shrubbery.  Eyes all new and foreign greet you with a softness only few could recognize as relief, their mourning was gone. Yet your eyes only searched for one flaming person. Then you see her around the bend of the stone. Karlach stood over the fire, her arms crossed as anxiety rippled over her features. Gold glowing eyes pierced into the bonfire as if she was silently praying to whatever god would listen to bring you back. Yet the sharp gaze stopped when she noticed you, standing afar. She could smell you again. 

The lost expression on your features made her grin fasten wider. Both of your bodies slammed into one another as you ran towards each other. This was your Karlach, not some twisted hell. It was her. The same scent of vanilla and ember came off of her heated skin. Tears blurred your vision, you buried your face in her neck. “You did it.” You whisper against her skin. Karlach only rocks the both of you. It seemed as if the world around the two of you didn’t matter anymore. “I did it,” she repeats after you before gently pulling you back to get a good look over you.

You could feel your very own heat rush to your face as her golden orbs take in your features. You hadn’t known how long it had been since she’d last laid eyes on you but from the looks of it. Too long. “Are you just going to keep staring or kiss me Karlach?” you quipped at her which broke her concentration. Her soft solemn smile turned into a cheeky grin as her hand landed just above your lower back and pulled you close, “You don’t have to ask me twice soldier.” 

With her lips planted on yours and the intoxicating smell of her scent, you knew this was heaven. She was your heaven.

** ph myriz = my heart (infernal)

#i love karlach #karlach x tav #karlach x reader #karlach bg3 #karlach blurb #soulless writes #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #crying in the club

[thegnomelord]

Congrats on 500! #28 with Gaz?

Thanks anon! Play the game HERE

Prompt: Forehead Kisses

CW: SFW, GN Reader, forehead kisses, light hurt/comfort, fluff

God, you hate flying. You don't just hate flying itself, but everything that comes with it, turning every flight into your own personal hell; The roar of the engines turning you near deaf and the hum of electricity bearing down on what hearing you have left, the metal shaking all around you like you're riding on an abandoned rollercoaster, the harsh lights overhead turned into tiny needles that stab your eyes.

But worst of all is the migraine you get each time you fly, pain pulsing and banging against your skull like a maggot growing fat off your brain. The loud US marines you were squished between certainly didn't help, making your trigger finger twitch before you clenched your hands into fists. Luckily the flight was coming to an end, the plane shaking as it landed, and you got up, trudging behind the marines.

Gaz is waiting for you on the tarmac, standing on his tippy toes to try and find you, biting on his lip when he sees you, head down, shoulders tense and his legs move before he even notices it.

"Hey," Gaz says in a hushed voice, reaching out to hold your hands. His hands are warm against your own.

You push closer to him, groaning as you bury your head into his neck. Kyle's wearing the cologne you'd gotten him, the sweet peppery scent filling your senses and easing the pain just a bit, but not enough.

"Migraine?" Kyle asks, fingers running across your scalp, his other hand wound around your waist.

"Migraine." You admit, your eyes closed, shifting your head to shield from the light and noise into his neck.

You let out a discontent sound as he pulls back, tugging on your sleeve. "Come here," He says, soft, sweet, barely a whisper to not grate on your ears. And like a lost lamb you follow after him, both of you ignoring the wolf whistles you receive from the rowdy marines.

You're a little surprised when he leads you to a janitor's closet, keeping the lights shut off as he guides you inside. "Really? What are we, teenagers?" You manage a small huff of laughter, dropping your pack on the ground, the darkness soothing the ache in your skull.

"You're certainly moody like one." Gaz cracks a grin you can't see, his eyes acclimating to the darkness quicker than yours. He guides you to sit down on a chair, clever fingers unclipping and pulling off your Kevlar vest.

"Am not." You argue, his hands settling on your cheeks making you melt. You part your legs and pull him closer so he's standing between them, resting your chin on his chest.

"What's this then?" Kyle's tone is teasing and warm, gently massaging the sides of your neck. He cups your jaw in both hands, his heart fluttering at how you just melt against him. You're always so guarded, but you tear down your walls for him, only for him.

"Me missing you." You say, honest, your eyes closing without notice, not that it makes much of a difference.

"Oh, sweetheart," Kyle coos, voice sticking to your ears like honey. He leans in, placing a soft kiss between your brows where the pain is the strongest. "I missed you too-" he does it again, the second kiss barely above the first one. "-so much."

His words birth a giggle in your chest, your body moving on it's own to hug him around the waist, to keep him close to you. "I don't believe you," You hum, just about able to make your voice sound teasing. "I need more proof."

"Yeah?" Kyle's voice is equally as teasing, his hands moving up to cup your cheeks, thumbs rubbing soothing circles above your brows, massaging the ache away like only he can. "Well, we can't have that."

He assaults you with affection from your hairline to your brows, leaving constellations of kisses across your forehead from one temple to the other, muttering soft 'I love you's and praises into your skin. Both of you start giggling like children at a random time, the sound of his laughter driving the ringing from your ears.

"Is'at 'nough proof for you?" Gaz whispers against your brow, kissing down the bridge of your nose, soft lips making your skin buzz pleasantly as they brush against your eyelids, coming closer and closer to your lips.

"I could use just a bit more." You tease him, your grip around his waist tightening; as if he'd even think of leaving you.

"Oh you cheeky shit," He giggles, pushing his head closer, "but how can I refuse?" He kisses you on the lips, slow and sweet.

You feel like a fish thrown back into water, leaning into the kiss, feeling his soft lips against yours, all of your senses consumed by him. You feel his tongue brush against your lips and you part them easily, swallowing his pleased groan as his tongue explores your mouth.

The growing lack of oxygen forces you to part only a fraction of an inch to catch your breaths, his warm breath washing over your face. You can't see his face, but you'd bet everything you own on how handsome and pretty he must look right now.

"Well?" Kyle pants against your mouth, and you feel him smirk, "Got your proof?"

"I certainly did," You chuckle, almost entirely forgetting about the migraine for a few seconds, leaning in to catch another kiss.

You both jump when someone knocks loudly on the door. "Yea bettah not be snogging in there!" It's Soap, and your lips pull in a snarl before Kyle kisses it away.

"Come on lovie," Gaz chuckles, tugging on your sleeve again. "I'll help you shower."

And you follow him, like you'll always do.

#Gnome's Prompt Game #cod mw2 #x reader #trinkets from the hoard #gnome correspondence #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick x gn!reader #kyle gaz garrick x male reader #kyle garrick x male reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #cod x reader #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #fluff

[feralrabidcrow]

What do you think the mercs hobbies were, past and present?

Scout loves drawing, as inspired by Expiration Date. He's really good at it, like crazy good, but he usually uses his talents for chaos, such as drawing Spy having sexual congress with the Eiffel tower. He also collects baseball cards, and sings Tom Jones to himself when he's alone in his room, but everyone knows because of how loud he sings. He sings into his baseball bat like it's a microphone, most passionate ballad of 'Sex Bom' you will ever hear.

Soldier is devoted to creating an army of raccoons, no matter how much the raccoons bite and scratch him. If you can consider that a hobby. Can you count snapping Scout's puny neck as a hobby? Is violence in general a hobby? He takes great joy in trying to 'shape up' the other mercenaries, through wake up calls, making them eat nasty MREs, yelling at them to train harder, and running the base like it's boot camp. I don't think this man has picked up a relaxing pastime in his entire life.

Pyro loves collecting things, anything really. Stickers, candy, rubber ducks, if it fits in their pocket, they'll hoard it somewhere only to bestow it to someone randomly (at least it can seem random) as a gift. Obviously they have a hobby for starting fires, but their less destructive hobbies include tea parties, scrapbooking, cake decorating, and hanging out with Engie in the workshop just to pass time.

Demo loves gathering the mercs around and telling them ghost stories. If there's a thunderstorm, and the lights go out, he's grabbing the candles and the spookiest voice he can muster. While the man loves his scrumpy, in the past before he just stuck to the good ol reliable stuff, Demo dabbled in the art of mixology, crafting up the most bizarre yet delicious drinks you could think of, but they certainly could pack a punch! He hasn't entirely lost the skill, but most of the time he's too drunk to work a bar with the finesse he once could. There would be a lot of glass shattering.

Heavy is a big time reader. Whenever he has the time to spare, he's pulling out a thick book that no one can identify and digging in. However, he has a remarkable ability that I lack; the ability to remain aware of his surroundings while buried in a book. No matter how invested he is in the literature he's currently consuming, if you call for him he'll drop it and come help. He enjoys spending time with Medic's doves; after their beloved doctor, he's their second favourite person. He also enjoys cooking, something he learned from his mother a great many years ago.

Engineer obviously spends a lot of his free time in the workshop tinkering about, but he also loves to spend time just hanging out with the mercs, who he all considers friends, that Friendly Engie! Whether it's a barbecue, a game of poker, karaoke night, whatever shenanigans the mercs are doing to pass the time between matches, Engie is right there in the center of it, enjoying all the bonding time with his teammates that they can get. He's a major extrovert, and can get on well with just about anyone he meets!

Medic takes his job as a hobby, delighting in reaching into someone's chest cavity and playing God for a bit. He's very passionate about bird care, treating his flock of doves as if they were his children. He also loves music, and has a radio playing in the medbay whenever he can. Medic has a wonderful singing voice, but he rarely sings nowadays, though he used to in his younger years. He also is a surprisingly good dancer, but only Heavy knows about that one.

Sniper loves abandoning the base and going out into the middle of nowhere to just be one with nature and get some peace and quiet. He goes hunting, catches himself some game, cooks it over a fire, spends the night stargazing and listening to nocturnal animal calls. He's the most introverted of the group, and while he does sometimes sit in for poker and other team activities, he's happiest in the great outdoors by his lonesome.

Spy is a connoisseur in fine wines and other elegant alcoholic drinks, taking the time when he can to attend fine dining and wine tasting events. He plays piano, rather impressively well, among his wide set of talents, but unlike many talents that he picked up just for a job, he takes great joy in his musical skills. He also has a fondness for seducing your mother.

#team fortress #tf2 #team fortress 2 #team fortress scout #tf2 headcanons #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 writing #scout tf2 #soldier tf2 #pyro tf2 #demoman tf2 #heavy tf2 #engineer tf2 #medic tf2 #sniper tf2 #spy tf2

[heavenlyhoundoom]

Sun and Moon show incorrect quotes.

1.Eclipse: I’m totally useless. Moon: You’re not totally useless. Moon: You can be used as a bad example.

2.Ruin: Don't have a bookmark? Try ketchup instead!! Bloodmoon: What makes you think I read?

3.Lunar: I am very small and I have no money, so you can imagine the kind of stress that I'm under.

4.Ruin: Watcha doin? Bloodmoon: Stealing my neighbour’s cat. Ruin: Scandalous. Ruin: Can I help?

5.Bloodmoon: Who wants to make fifty bucks? Eclipse: How? Bloodmoon: I need someone to take the fall. Eclipse: What did you do? Bloodmoon: I can't tell you. Yes or no, no questions asked. Sun, from the other room: Oh my god. Bloodmoon: … Sun: OH MY GOD! Eclipse: Make it a hundred. Bloodmoon: Deal.

6.Earth: Do you know a turtles only weakness? Moon: No… well, their slowness. Earth: Their weaknesss is they can't roll over when they are on their backs. Earth: Now I have a plan. Earth: If I duct tape two turtles together, they'll be unstoppable.

7.Bloodmoon: You're a lying piece of shit! Eclipse: Oh yeah? You're the idiot that thinks you can get away with everything you do, WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD! Earth: I'm leaving and I'm taking Lunar with me! Sun, gathering cards: Aaaaand that's enough Monopoly for today.

8.Ruin: I wanna sleep for 40 hours. Eclipse: You know that's called a coma, right? Ruin: Ruin: That sounds so refreshing, I could totally go for a light coma right now.

9.Eclipse: When life gives you lemons, don't make lemonade. Make life take the lemons back! Get mad! I don't want your damn lemons, what the hell am I supposed to do with these? Demand to see life's manager! Make life rue the day it thought it could give Eclipse lemons! Do you know who I am? I'm the person who's gonna burn your house down! With the lemons! I'm gonna get my engineers to invent a combustible lemon that burns your house down!

10.Moon: So, Bloodmoon and Ruin. Moon: According to this, you two are being accused of: Armed Robbery, Vandalism, Drug Abuse, Grand Theft Auto… Bloodmoon: We had a bad day. Moon: And… MURDER?! Ruin: It was a pretty bad day…

11.after the Squad has been separated for a few years Eclipse: So what have you been up to recently? Lunar: Leading a revolution with Earth. Eclipse: Good for you two! Me, I've joined the mob. Lunar: nods Oh, how cool! That's awesome! Eclipse: I know! Anyway, have you heard from the others? Ruin? Lunar: Happily living as a hermit in the woods. Moon? Eclipse: Wrongfully locked up in an asylum, which reminds me, we need to break him out later. Bloodmoon? Lunar: Cult leader. Eclipse: Yeah, that sounds about right.

12.The Squad is playing Chess Ruin: easily beats everyone because they know how to play Bloodmoon: doesn’t know the rules, but wins anyway Lunar: doesn’t know the rules, and loses Moon: knows the rules, but still loses to those who don’t Eclipse: Actually, you can’t do that, because I said so. Earth: They named a board game after cheese?

13.Eclispe: It’s illegal to look better than me. Bloodmoon: I guess we’re all going to jail then.

14.Ruin: When I get Doordash I order 20 Cheeseburgers at a time and heat them up throughout the week so that I don’t have to pay the delivery fee multiple times. Moon: I hope you understand how food poisoning works. Ruin: I hope food poisoning understands how I work. I never met a burger i couldn’t eat.

15.Eclipse: I’m telling you, my team is competent. Ruin, rushing in: Eclipse! Bloodmoon tried to make pasta in the coffee pot and now it's broken!

16.Ruin: I’ve only ever said ‘I love you’ to two people in my entire life: Bloodmoon and a guy in a dark club who I mistook for Bloodmoon.

17.Bloodmoon, after sneaking into Lunar’s bedroom: Hey, wake up! Lunar, half awake: Huh!? Bloodmoon: I just murdered your entire family! Lunar: …But I live alone. Bloodmoon: Huh? Then who are these people in your house??? Lunar: There’s people in my house? Bloodmoon: Well not anymore! Dumb bitch! You could’ve died! You’re welcome!

18.Sun: I want to be like a caterpillar. Lunar: Explain. Sun: Eat a lot, sleep for a while, wake up beautiful. Earth: You know they have a lifespan of a week, right? Sun: Sun: That's just another highlight!

19.Eclipse: I need some help with my homework, Earth. Earth: What’s the assignment? Eclipse: I’m supposed to write a paper that presents both sides of an issue and then defends one of the arguments. Earth: What’s your issue? Eclipse: That’s the problem. I can’t think of anything to argue. Earth: That’s hard to believe. Eclipse: I’m always right and everybody else is always wrong! What’s to argue about?!

20.Bloodmoon: Who else is hiding in the laundry room trying to listen to Eclipse and Lunar's convo? Moon: Me. I'm in the laundry basket. Earth: I'm in the washing machine. Sun: I'm in the closet. Moon: We accept you Sun. <3 Sun: No I'm literally in the closet. Moon: Love is love. <3

#Fnaf #sun and moon show #sundrop #moondrop #sams lunar #sams eclipse #sams earth #sams bloodmoon #sams ruin #incorrect quotes