Sorry to ask this. I was going through a blog when I saw a callout post. I checked it out of curiosity. One of the things that was pointed out was : "when they were 31, they had sex with a 18 year old -they are a teenager!- and it's predatory! I (the writer of the callout) am 21 years old and even I don't have sex with 18 year olds because they are very young and it's very predatory!"

So, idk how to feel about that? Especially as someone who has never been in a relationship. I'm 20 years old, soon I'll be 21. Looking at myself at 18 and the future 21, I really didn't change that much? Physically or mentally. Yeah 18 is young but so is 21?? I don't think it's predatory, am I wrong?/serious question

And for the first part, yeah a 31 year old being with a 18 is weird for me, but aren't they both adults? They also said it's because 18 year olds lack experience, which can be true but that's assuming they have never been in a relationship before(with people their own age or similar). So, it can be weird but predatory? Is it?/serious question

I'm sorry if the questions are upsetting &/or weird but I really don't have anyone else to ask- parents are out of question, they literally think you should teach people about sex right before marriage- and I don't trust most online spaces. There's also zero books about such things in my country because "protect the children!!". So now we have an adult(me) who was raised to never ask question about these things and now is confused as hell. Hmm.....

--

It's all hogwash.

On average, I would assume that a 31-year-old having sex with an 18-year-old is a bit of a creep. However, it would depend entirely on the circumstances. Is this 18-year-old a naive high school student? Or are they someone who's been working a job for several years? Maybe the older person is their coworker whom they got to know.

A 21-year-old and an 18-year-old can be weird in the US if they only just met and one is a high school student while the other is a university student. But what if they met in some very different context where they're more in the same stage of life? Sure, I side-eye upperclassmen who start dating freshmen the first week of their freshman year, but what about later on in the year? What if both of these people aren't students at all and are, again, working a job together?

"You're mature for your age" is a line that creepers feed to younger people, but it can also be true. Some people just get along better with older partners.

We shouldn't be too draconian about any specific rule. You can only judge by the real circumstances of a specific set of people.

Predators are defined by their behavior, not ticky-box demographics. There is no absolute that lets you detect them and protect yourself. People wish there were because they would feel safer. That's what this kind of post is about.

Always and forever thinking about the day they got the eggs and got paired up, and other people being maybe a little awkward cause they still don't necessarily know the person they've been paired with, a little unsure of what bits they can get away with, and then Mariana, i imagine, is like "damn this is my chance for an actual ship for once let's fucking go let's not be To Weird so my partner won't be creeped out" but then charlie runs up and assigns him as Bitch Wife and immediately starts a bit where they've been married for years and he's trying to get a divorce and Mariana is just like 😍 YOU! You are The One. We are going to have so much sex. And he was right.

Eddie thought inviting Steve to the Grammys would be fine, cool, no big deal. And it should be, but Steve is walking out of the suite's bedroom wearing a burgundy tuxedo that fits him like a fucking glove. His shirt is unbuttoned just enough to let chest hair peak out, and Eddie thinks he might faint.

He's always been attracted to Steve, of course, but never let it go further than that. Like, sure, Steve was hot as fuck, and sure he was the best guy Eddie had ever met, and sometimes, yeah, he did have to force away thoughts of Steve when he jerked off, and in other circumstances he'd totally be head over heels. Just, Steve is straight, the straightest, a fucking arrow.

Eddie tears his eyes from Steve's body. "You look great, man." He slaps Steve's back. Keeping it cool; keeping it so cool.

"Psh," Steve says. "Have you looked in a mirror? Oh my god." His eyes are saucer wide as they travel down Eddie's body.

"Is it too much?" Eddie crosses his arms over his bare chest.

"Are you kidding? You're--fuck, man. You look good as hell."

He's wearing a silky burgundy shirt, open to show off the necklaces around his throat, his tattoos, the silver in his nipples. His pants are leather, tight, sitting low on his hips and putting the cut of his pelvic bone on full display. They have a lace-up closure that comes dangerously close to showing pube.

Heat rushes to his face at the compliment. "It's--you know. Hazard of the job."

"Yeah, hazard, sure. Guess it's a hard life having hot dudes literally throwing themselves at you."

Eddie barks out a laugh. "That's a vast exaggeration."

"Is it?"

He blushes harder. "You're my date tonight, Steve."

"My point exactly."

His manager and publicist usher them out the door before he can ask what the hell that meant.

---

The ride is giddy and playful, Steve popping champagne to celebrate Eddie's nomination for Song of the Year, even though there's no chance in hell he wins.

Steve is happy. His face is bright with joy, eyes shining, laugh loud and infectious. He's gorgeous, knows it, will be an absolute menace on the red carpet. He's been with Eddie to parties and stuff before, doesn't have any anxiety in front of the camera and isn't obsessed with musicians like Eddie is, unafraid to meet them.

Or so Eddie thought.

Because now they're standing at the edge of the red carpet, Steve very nearly trembling next to him.

"Harrington?"

"That's--That's Madonna." Steve points to her. "We're not even ten feet away from Madonna." He gulps. "Eddie. Madonna."

Steve has met famous people before with Eddie. Ozzy, briefly, Janet Jackson, Dave Grohl, James Hetfield, and he'd always been fine. Barely batted an eye. But get him within reaching distance of Madonna and he falls apart.

Eddie doesn't think about it, grabs Steve's hand, twines their fingers together. "Okay?"

The smile Steve throws him, grateful and a little embarrassed, stabs straight through his heart. He calms as they make it up the carpet, but he doesn't drop Eddie's hand, even when they pause for pictures. In fact, he leans into it, drapes his arm around Eddie's shoulders, or around his waist, seeming to thrive the closer they are. Eddie feels this dangerous pull to indulge in it, to let himself believe it means something, and he doesn't quite have it in him to turn it off.

By the time they reach their seats, Steve is relaxed back to his normal charming and handsome self, doesn't bat an eye as Eddie introduces him around.

The show passes quickly with all the performances and Steve whispering jokes in his ear. It's the best time he's ever had at an award show, like he should have been bringing Steve along this whole time. He's so distracted that he's not really ready when Paula Abdul comes out to announce Song of the Year.

His name is read off as a nominee and Steve grabs his hand, squeezes tight. Eddie's heart flips in his chest. He's not paying attention when Paula opens the envelope, too focused on Steve's strong hand holding his. He hears her say, "And the Grammy goes to--" and everything goes fuzzy.

Steve is saying, "oh my god, oh my god, Eddie. Get up, get up."

And his fucking song is playing and everyone is cheering, a couple people slap his back, and oh shit, oh shit, he fucking won. He stands, Steve with him. He thinks they're going to hug, that's what you do in these situations, but Steve is kissing him. Not on the cheek and not a quick peck, but lip-to-lip, soft and sweet.

Steve just kissed him and he has to get on stage and give a speech. He has no idea what he says because Steve just kissed him. On the lips. On purpose. His ears are ringing and words tumble out of his mouth, thinks he says, "couldn't have done it without you, Stevie," before tripping over his feet to get backstage.

Interviews, photographs, congratulations all help him settle. He's still buzzing with the win, but aware enough now to think the kiss had to be an accident. They've been friends for nearly a decade and Steve never seemed interested in men generally or Eddie specifically.

It takes a while to finish up the backstage business, but when he makes it to his seat, Steve just beams at him. He doesn't mention the kiss, which makes Eddie think he's overreacting. It wasn't a big deal. Sure, he could still feel Steve's lips, warm and soft, against his own, but it didn't mean anything. He's just too in his big gay feelings to be objective.

They don't get a chance to really talk until they're back in the limo and on their way to the after-party.

"You won," Steve says.

"I won." Eddie smiles. "Crazy."

"You deserved it."

He shrugs. "I don't know about that."

"Doesn't matter. You did." Steve fidgets with the cuff of his jacket. "About earlier, um. The kiss. I--"

Eddie feels his face heating, heart kicking up. It was nothing, he knows, and Steve shouldn't have to-- "It was an accident. It's okay. I know you don't--it was the heat of the moment and--I know you're not--you don't--"

Steve blinks a lot, emotions flashing across his face faster than Eddie can categorize.

"What if I do?" Steve asks. His voice is too soft, eyes locked on the cuff link he's fiddling with.

"You--what?"

"What if I did mean it?"

"You're straight."

Steve goes pink. "I'm really not."

"Steve?" He shrieks. "Since when?"

"Um. Since you invited me to this?"

"What the fuck?" Eddie shoves him. "What the fuck, man?"

"I know, I know!" Steve pulls his hand through his hair. "You invited me and I freaked out and I didn't know why, and Robin made the saddest little face at me. Said, 'oh, dingus, you didn't know?' How the fuck was I supposed to know!"

"I think you wanting to fuck me should've been a pretty good indication!"

"I thought that happened to everyone!"

"It doesn't!"

"That's what Robin said!"

They're both yelling.

"Jesus christ. Jesus christ," Eddie keeps repeating.

"Look, I get it if you don't want me too, dude. I know that's not how it works, but I've been pretty crazy about you without realizing it for a while now, so--"

He doesn't mean to, he really doesn't, but he laughs. Like, super loud. Like a donkey bray.

"Okay, can the driver let me out? Like, can I go? I can't--"

"Wait, wait, sweetheart." Steve's gotten up, like he's about to knock on the partition, but Eddie grabs his wrist. "Of course I want you back, you idiot, oh my god."

"Oh." Steve's ears are pink. "Oh. Well. That's good."

Eddie huffs. "Just good? I won a Grammy and the guy I've been pining over for years wants me back. I'm having the night of my life."

"Shut-up." Steve's smile is so big, his eyes so bright.

He raises an eyebrow. "Make me," he says in his lowest register, but he's truly not prepared for it when Steve clambers over to him and lowers himself to straddle Eddie's hips.

"Holy shit," Eddie whispers. "Holy shit, Steve."

He give a wry little smile, eyes locked on Eddie's mouth. "Baby, can I kiss you?"

"Yes." Eddie clears his throat. "Yes, please, do that. Yeah."

Only, he doesn't. He's straddling Eddie, they're so close their breath mingles, and Steve's eyes flicker between Eddie's mouth and his eyes, lips so close to touching but not.

"C'mon, asshole," Eddie says.

"I knew you'd be a brat." He whispers. He wraps his hands into Eddie's hair. "Been dying to do this."

And then they're kissing. They're kissing and it steals all of Eddie's breath and his thoughts, and it's new but it's also like they've been kissing forever, like their lips and tongue know each other, like coming home.

He whines, high-pitched and breathy, and Steve laughs, kisses him deeper, moves closer, and Eddie feels how hard Steve is, the persistent pulse of him. And shit Eddie's close, on the brink just from this, from nothing, oh my god.

Steve's hands drift down Eddie's torso, mapping his chest and his stomach, coming to rest at the laces of his pants. "These have been driving me insane," Steve breaks the kiss to say. "Been thinking about undoing them all night."

"Fuck, sweetheart, you can't say shit like that," Eddie groans.

"Why not?"

"Because--because," Eddie sputters but then Steve's lips are on his neck and he's rolling his hips for friction.

Steve's fingers find the laces again, trace against them. Eddie's legs fall open, arching into the touch. "We're going to be so late," he murmurs as Steve's fingers get to work.

Basic Training XVI (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, mentions of MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @whimsicalrogers

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

~

You knelt beside Peter with your hands in your lap, staring down at them as the conversation flowed around you. While you’d never had much to contribute to the conversation before, you still felt awful about being purposely excluded. Even more so because your humiliation was on full display for the whole house to see.

“It’s disappointing to see another empty chair at the table.”

Steve’s voice wasn’t very loud amongst the other low conversations, but it carried, nonetheless. You didn’t need to look up to know that his gaze was on you. You could feel it. It was then that you felt a gentle touch on the top of your head, fingers trailing down to rest just under your chin.

“Yeah,” you heard Peter sigh. “…but she knows what she’s being punished for.”

You did.

The night you told Peter that Nat had mentioned a pregnancy scare, he hadn’t said much to you for the rest of the evening. You could count the number of times Peter had been really mad with you, and his visible anger hadn’t done much for your sleep. You hadn’t been able to deny the pang in your chest when he laid down for bed without sparing you a glance.

You had almost wished you could take it back.

…but if it would prevent Nat from being on the end of whatever punishment Bucky saw fit for her, then you would accept however Peter retaliated. You weren’t being tied to some tree nor walking around with some collar on your neck, but it was no less embarrassing to sit at Peter’s feet on your knees while the rest of the household ate dinner.

Occasionally, Peter’s hand would come down to give you something to eat, and with starving as the only other option, you had no choice but to open your mouth and accept.

“I’m very disappointed in you,” he’d said just hours earlier, gazing at you with a small shake of his head. “…and to think this is something you knew before she even left. What if she was pregnant and has lost the baby? Do you have any idea what that will do to Bucky?”

You hadn’t had the heart nor courage to tell Peter that you didn’t care about Bucky. You didn’t care about him, at all. Your priority had been Nat and keeping quiet on something she herself hadn’t even known what to do with. That was then though, and while your first priority was still Nat, now you only wanted her out of harm’s way in whatever way you could achieve that. Even if it meant disappointing Peter and making Bucky aware of her possible delicate condition.

You knew that with Steve over his shoulder, Bucky was liable to do unspeakable harm to Nat. It didn’t matter that he’d grown up with her and therefore shared a deeper history than any other couple in the house. In fact, you’d wager that those circumstances only made him angrier, made him feel more betrayed. You didn’t count on Bucky being fair, on the punishment fitting the crime. The dark-haired man was angry and hurt—something you’d never understand—and he seemed the type to take it out on her.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sight of a fork in front of your face, and lock clockwork, you leaned in to eat what Peter offered. Your embarrassment lessened as you thought of the humiliating things the other wives probably had to go through. One incident stood out amongst the rest, and as you glanced up, your eyes met a familiar brown pair. She threw you a brief sympathetic look, something in her eyes telling you that it was okay, and you looked back down.

You tried to remind yourself that if your husband had been literally anyone else, you’d be dealing with far worse. Even Thor—who seemed a gentle giant most times—had forced Jane to hang the clothes to dry while completely naked once. At least, that was what Jane had said, and despite how long ago it was, you’d been able to see that she was still hurt about it. You wondered if that contributed to how “well behaved” she was for the blond. You wondered if she just didn’t want to experience that hurt again, and that was something you could understand.

When dinner was over, instead of following behind the rest of the men, Peter remained seated. You could feel his gaze on you, and you kept your own on your lap as you heard him stand. He stood there for what felt like a long time while the other women cleared the table. When the both of you were alone again, he quietly told you to stand and follow him.

Peter hadn’t said all that much to you since that day, and you didn’t know what you were walking into.

You kept your gaze on the back of his head while you followed him, tracing the brown strands with your eyes. There was a part of you that could acknowledge Peter’s disappointment, even understand the twisted logic in some sick way, but another part of you didn’t feel bad, at all. Whether or not Nat was pregnant was not something Peter needed to know. It simply wasn’t for him to know. It hadn’t even been for you to know until Nat decided it so, and it equally hadn’t been for you to tell.

…and you weren’t…until Steve and Bucky were itching to hurt her in ways she just didn’t deserve.

Even now, you wondered if you did the right thing. Only time would really tell, but you felt so…helpless. That night, you’d felt helpless, but it was a different kind of helpless. It was a helplessness that came about of your own accord. You could have very well told Peter you saw her. You could have even ran downstairs yourself to go after her, but you hadn’t. You’d remained quiet, and the opportunity to do anything to help or hinder the situation had passed you by.

You had left the fate of everyone in the house—including you—in her hands. Your future had depended on whether or not Nat was caught or not, both yours and Peters. You felt like something of a coward to leave that in Nat’s hands. Although, you guessed that your decision had been made when you simply…let her go.

You were frowning when Peter spoke to you again.

“You do understand why you’re being punished…don’t you…?”

You licked your lips, starting to nod before thinking better of it, remembering that Peter preferred you use your voice.

“Yes,” you told him.

“Tell me,” Peter urged, sitting down on the bed.

Your eyes met his, and like they had been for days, they gleamed with a mixture of confusion and disappointment.

“It’s important that Bucky knows everything pertaining to Nat’s health…and I helped her hide that from him.”

You repeated the words he’d said to you even though you didn’t quite believe them yourself.

Peter reached for you with a small sigh, and you slowly reached for his hand in return, moving closer. When his fingers threaded with yours, he pulled you to stand in between his knees, taking your other hand too. He looked at you with a look you couldn’t name, pink lips pressed together as he studied your face.

“If you were pregnant…surely you’d understand why I’d need to know that,” he continued before you could say anything. “Even if you just thought you were pregnant…that’s important, Y/N.”

“I know,” you whispered.

“Now…now I have to find a way to bring this up to him. I did make a promise, after all,” he said to you, reminding you of your plea not to tell Bucky you told him.

Peter pulled on your hands, forcing you to sit in his lap. One of his hands came to rest on your waist, and you held his gaze as he kneaded his hand into your side.

“…and you wouldn’t want me to break my promise…would you?”

Peter tilted his head at that, and you shakily shook your head.

If Bucky knew you knew…you shuddered to think of what would happen. Peter reached up to cup your face, gently brushing his thumb over your skin. It disgusted you to think that not even thirty minutes ago, he had you kneeling at his side and eating whatever he fed you like a dog…and now… Now, you were sitting in his lap, reaching up to cover his own hand as it rested on your face.

Was this how any of the others felt?

Did Margaret feel that conflicted mix of anger and sadness and admiration whenever she gazed at Steve? Did she remember the ways in which he’d humiliate her as he kissed her? Did Pepper think of Tony leading her around the house like a pet when he smiled at her? You wondered what Laura thought about when Clint hugged her and if it was that time she was forced to keep him warm in her mouth at the dinner table?

“I was very proud of you tonight,” Peter eventually told you. “You were so well behaved and did exactly as I told you.”

Peter pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth, lingering there.

“Only four more days to go.”

You were outside in the garden when you first saw it.

Laura and Jane were planting some garlic with you when you saw Steve and Bucky talking and walking around the house. They were coming from the front yard, presumably from work seeing as they were still in their uniforms, and Steve had it in his hand. A whip­—long and braided and dark brown. By the looks of it, you could tell it was real leather, and even in Steve’s grasp, it looked big…and torturous.

The sight of it made your stomach turn, and you had the brief thought that you were going to be sick…until you actually were sick.

“Oh my God!”

Both Laura and Jane’s voices caught their attention, and the poor garlic bulbs you’d had every intention of planting were suddenly covered in what you ate that morning. Your legs were unsteady as both women hurried to pull you to your feet. Both men were nearing you, something crossing their faces that looked oddly like concern.

It was strange.

You’d seen something like that on Bucky’s face before, notably that night when you ran into him outside the basement door. There was a hurt and crestfallen look there that told you as mad as he was at Nat, something in him hated the idea of punishing her more. Steve, however… You had never seen anything remotely resembling unease before, and it was then that you were reminded of something Peter had said to you once.

“You’re family, Y/N,” Peter had whispered one night. “Steve may be hard on you, and it may seem like he’s out to get you, but he just wants you to fall in line and be part of the family.”

Laura was wiping your mouth with a napkin she kept in her apron.

“Are you alright? Did you eat something bad?”

No.

You didn’t know how to tell her that the sight of that whip in Steve’s hand—the whip that was still in Steve’s hand—had disturbed you so badly you couldn’t even keep your food down. You could feel pressure behind your eyes, a burning sensation, and you wanted to scream. On top of throwing up on yourself like some child, you were now on the verge of crying too.

“Y/N…”

You weren’t on the verge of anything. You were crying…and badly too. You couldn’t stop shaking, covering your face with your hands as you fought to keep standing. Laura’s hands were on you as she guided you into the house, and your knees buckled. You would have collapsed if it weren’t for familiar arms catching you, and you clung to him instantly.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me, Y/N,” he softly urged, one hand on your head and the other on the small of your back. “What happened?”

He was addressing someone else, now, and you didn’t hear what they told him. You only shook your head, unable to get the words out. You wanted to be sick again, and you pressed a hand to your mouth. Peter took that as a sign, hurrying to get you up the stairs.

He softly called your name again as soon as you made it into the room, and you finally did collapse.

“Is that what he’s going to do to her?” you asked him, tearfully looking up at Peter as he looked down at you in confusion. “Whip her?”

Realization bled into Peter’s eyes, and you watched his shoulders fall.

“Like…like some animal that needs to be broken into submission? …and for what? Because she ran?”

You swallowed down something else that threatened to come up, and Peter knelt down with you. You were fighting to keep it together, but your chest felt so tight, and your hands wouldn’t stop shaking. The mere thought of Nat being on the other end of that almost made you sick again, and the room spun just a bit.

“Woah, woah, hey,” Peter cooed, wrapping his arms around you and leaning you back into him.

You descended into another fit of sobs, turning your face into Peter’s shoulder, and he rocked you. You reached up to grip the arm around your chest, holding onto him. It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t right, but what else could you possibly say that would stop this?

“Did you talk to Bucky…?” you finally choked out.

You both felt and heard Peter sigh.

“Not yet,” he murmured. “Look…Y/N…”

Peter paused, rubbing your arm and resting his chin on the top of your head.

“I know you want to protect Nat…want to stop this from happening to her, but she did a bad thing.”

You started to shake your head, but Peter continued.

“She has to be punished, made an example of. Hell…we still need to figure out how she escaped.”

Those words gave you pause, and you swallowed.

“She won’t say a thing about how she got out of the house with any of us none the wiser. How she snuck past all of us, Bucky especially,” he murmured, more to himself than you. “She could do it again. Any of you could try to imitate her…and we can’t have that.”

Peter pulled away a bit, looking at you as you looked at him.

“I would lose my mind if you escaped,” he told you. “…and I mean that.”

He took your face into his hands.

“You don’t understand what you mean to me…all I’ve done to keep you by my side,” he gently said. “All I would do to have you again if you ever did what she did.”

You believed him.

You didn’t doubt him for a moment, and that in itself didn’t scare you. It was the fact that you didn’t see yourself ever doing what Nat did, never even trying, and that thought was equally imprisoning as it was freeing.

You stared into the darkness with your arms wrapped around your knees. The stair beneath your bottom didn’t even feel that hard to you anymore, long growing numb to the feel. It was so hard to sleep lately, so tonight you’d just given up. Even with Peter at your side, you hadn’t been able to find lethargic bliss, too plagued with thoughts of Nat.

The memory of that whip in Steve’s hand made you grow so cold, like something was being sucked out of you. You had imagined the worst for her, but actually seeing it was another thing entirely. As much as Bucky scared you, you couldn’t really picture him doing that to her. Even for him, it seemed wrong, but then again, it was hard to tell what Bucky was actually feeling and what he wanted.

He kidnapped the girl he grew up with and he was the one to feel betrayed when she ran.

You wondered if a day would come where you’d sleep soundly again. Maybe when you knew for sure that Nat was going to be okay? You wondered if you’d even fret this much if you hadn’t seen her that night. You liked to think that you would, but you couldn’t deny that your guilt and fear over the whole situation played a huge part.

Rubbing your forehead, you pushed yourself to your feet.

When you turned around, the imposing figure at the top of the stairs almost made you fall back. You let out a gasp, taking a stumbling step back and almost falling in the process. The sound of your heartbeat was loud in your ear, and even before he turned the light on, you knew who it was.

Steve was as scary as he always was, but even more so now with the memory of him holding the whip that was most likely intended for Nat. It was crazy to think that even in the middle of the night, a time of day that should be for the most relaxed version of oneself, he still looked like a strict leader just itching to hand out a punishment.

“You should be in bed.”

You swallowed as he looked down his nose at you, lips trembling.

“I…I couldn’t sleep. I have trouble sleeping, sometimes,” you forced out, truthful.

The blond didn’t reply right away at that, simply raising an eyebrow at you as he studied you.

“Is that so…”

It came out more like a statement than a question, and you frowned.

“Since when?” he wondered, and you realized this was probably the longest you’d ever talked to Steve and definitely one on one.

“Since…since I got here, I guess,” you whispered with a frown.

He sniffed, looking past you for a few moments before meeting your eyes again. They narrowed at you, and for the life of you, you couldn’t place the look in them.

“You spend most of your nights awake? Sitting on the stairs? Hmm?”

“No,” you hurried to say. “No, this is a first. I guess I didn’t want to wake up Peter.”

There was a brief pause, and the silence was so loud.

“Is that okay…?”

You tried to keep your voice even, but you supposed you couldn’t cover the mocking tone well. It was hard to keep up with what was allowed with Steve, and it wasn’t like the other night when you were trying to bring Nat some food. You’d just been sitting on the stairs. What rule was there against that?

Steve stared at you for what felt like a long time before suddenly throwing you a tense smile. It looked fake, plastic even.

“Of course,” he almost sang as if it were obvious. “You’re family, now, and this is your house too.”

His tone, like yours had been, sounded almost mocking, and you didn’t like it. Unable to continue engaging in conversation with the blond without wanting to hurl, you moved to make your way back to your room. Steve’s gaze remained on you the entire time, and it was only when you were past him did he speak again.

“I never realized what a night owl you were…”

You slowed to a pause, looking over your shoulder at him, but his back was still to you as he stared ahead.

“You probably see all sorts of things from your perch.”

Your chest grew tight at that, and you stumbled back to your room without another response.

Peter seemed to reach for you on autopilot, pulling you into his arms and holding you close even in his sleep. You held onto him too, tears kissing your eyes as you forced your heart to stop racing. You pressed your face into his chest, thoughts going a mile a minute.

You hadn’t liked Steve’s words nor his tone, and you wondered…

Did he know? He couldn’t know, but his dubious tone and hidden meanings in his words couldn’t mean anything else. Unless he only suspected, and even then, that did little to reassure you. You weren’t good with lies, poker faces. As it were, it was taking everything in you to keep lying to Peter, and the way you felt about Peter was nothing at all how you felt about Steve.

It was taking all you had to lie to the man whose face you looked forward to seeing every day. You couldn’t even pretend to imagine you’d be good at lying to Steve. The thought made you sit up some, gazing at Peter’s face as he slept. You thought about your conversation earlier and what he’d done for you, the feeling in your chest when he told you he’d talked to Bucky.

“I just mentioned to him he might want to have Bruce come and look over her first before…”

He had trailed off after answering you when you asked him what he told him, quieting at the look on your face at the reminder of what was in store for her.

“They’ve been trying, you know, and I just reminded Bucky that he’d never forgive himself if he did anything that could take away something he didn’t even know he had.”

Your worry hadn’t disappeared completely, but it had definitely lessened, causing you to hug Peter. He had hugged you back, but you’d been more concerned with pressing kisses to his face. Even if Nat turned out to not be pregnant, it would put off her punishment for a bit at the least.

Sometimes you wondered why Peter did anything for you. You supposed it was equally for his benefit, to make you more susceptible to him, and you couldn’t deny that there was merit to it. Did it really matter the reasons behind anything he did to make you happy? As long as it made you happy, right…?

You leaned over, pressing your lips to his cheek, silently thanking him. You grazed your fingers over his own, listening to the sound of his breathing, and you kissed his cheek again before sliding out of bed. You moved to stand at the window, feeling very reminiscent of that night as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

You knew that you needed to get up early, and that you’d probably regret having such a late night in the morning, but you saw no value in trying to force something that would not come. Like the night Nat ran, you stared out of the window, looking over the yard...

…and just like that night, movement caught your eye.

The figure was unmistakable, his hands on his hips as he stood in the backyard, gazing around. You didn’t know why he was out there, especially at this time of night, and you frowned as you watched him. The sight of Steve would always serve to do the opposite of calming you down, so you were just about to turn away when he suddenly turned instead. Steve’s eyes met yours from so far below, and you could tell by the look on his face that he could see you.

You could also tell by the look on his face…that this did not surprise him.

His expression was even as he stared up at you, and you blinked, a slow frown forming between your brows. You didn’t understand why he was out there nor why he was preoccupied with looking up at your window, but the longer he stared, the more he seemed to find whatever he was looking for, frowning at you before you made the choice to turn away completely.

The next morning was as normal as any other.

For some reason, you hadn’t expected that. It had taken you forever to fall asleep, doubly so when coupled with the memory of Steve staring you down both on the stairs and through the window. You helped Margaret make Egg’s Benedict before getting started on a key lime pie she wanted to have ready by dinnertime. She brought little Sarah around for a bit, something you were grateful for.

“I know what they think,” she whispered as you shook the girl’s hand playfully. “What they say…”

You glanced up at her at that, and she sent you a sad smile.

“You would never hurt any of them,” she assured you. “You just need more time to adjust, that’s all.”

Knowing that Margaret trusted you around her child despite what Steve thought made your chest feel warm, and you thanked her. You often wondered about your own future child, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t worry for them. After all, if Steve and the others were worried about you around the other children, what could you possibly expect with your own?

You helped Christine in the garden, feeling much better than the other day. You felt that had more to do with the lack of a whip in your line of sight than anything. Peter was gone most of the day, at work, and when he finally returned home, it was almost time for dinner.

“What were you two planting? You smell wonderful,” Peter mused, watching you as you helped him undress.

“Sweet Pea,” you replied, unhooking his belt. “Pepper wanted some on the side of the house.”

You felt Peter press his face to your hair, deeply inhaling with a hum that fell over you like a warm blanket. When Peter kissed you, you were unsurprised when it didn’t remain just that, allowing him to pull you into the bathtub with him. Much wasn’t said between you, more preoccupied with the feel of his lips on yours and his hands on your waist.

It was a wonder neither of you were late to the dinner table.

Despite your interactions with Steve the previous night, dinner remained unproblematic. In fact, the blond was much more concerned with his wife whose forehead he kept touching. Truthfully, you didn’t quite know what you’d expected. Perhaps your disastrous birthday was still fresh in your mind, no stranger to Steve’s lack of reluctance to cause a scene.

You left dinner without a care, and you managed to go to bed without a care.

It was late in the night, however, when the horror you expected finally arrived.

It was the sound of yelling that disturbed you, the height of sound something you’d only heard the morning Nat went missing. You remained in bed in confusion—and slight annoyance—as you blearily stared at the ceiling. Sleep was still just within reach, and despite the disturbance, you were determined to find it once again.

That wasn’t possible though.

“Let me talk to her!”

It was Peter’s voice, the sound of it making your eyes fly open. You slowly sat up, never knowing Peter for one to raise his voice under any circumstances. There were a lot of voices mingling together from below, and they all quickly drowned his out. You slowly blinked as you stared at the door…

…and an uneasy feeling started to stir deep in your gut.

It only just occurred to you that if he was downstairs, then he wasn’t asleep next to you. You reached over and slid your hand along his side of the bed. It was cool to the touch, telling you he’d been gone for quite some time, and your frown deepened. What was going on?

Just as you thought that, you heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and you stared at the door in dread. They were nearing your room, the sound of them echoing in the hallway, and for some reason, you expected Steve’s imposing frame to be on the other side of the door. It wasn’t, but you still felt no relief at the familiar sight of Peter.

You rubbed your eye as your gaze met his, the dark-haired man standing in the doorway.

“Peter…”

It was hard to pinpoint the look on his face, only that it was strained and pinched. You watched the way his jaw ticked, chest heaving slightly, and when your gaze lowered, it landed on his tightening grip on the doorknob. You said his name again, growing even more nervous the longer he didn’t speak.

“Peter.”

That wasn’t your voice.

Your lips parted at the sound of Steve’s stern voice coming from over Peter’s shoulder, and you guessed that he was somewhere in between the door and the stairs, somewhere in the hallway where you couldn’t see him. At the sound of the other man’s voice, Peter seemed to visibly tense. He stood there for a few more seconds before finally stepping into the room.

“Peter, what…?”

“It’s okay,” he whispered to you although you felt like it was absolutely not okay. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

He took your hand, threading your fingers together.

“I just…I need you to come downstairs.”

His voice was so low, and despite the confusion you felt as you gazed into his eyes, you allowed him to lead you out of bed. You surmised that Steve went back downstairs because he was nowhere to be found when you followed Peter into the hallway.

Every step of yours felt heavy, and you didn’t miss the tight hold Peter had on your hand as he gently pulled you downstairs. You had no inkling of where you were even going, but you were shocked to realize that he was leading you towards the den. However, the biggest shock of all was the sight that met you.

You faltered as your eyes roamed over every single one of the husbands.

“Peter…”

Your voice was barely a whisper, but you knew he heard you by the feel of his hand gently squeezing yours.

You didn’t understand what was going on, and as you looked around, you almost wished you hadn’t. None of them looked happy, and while that in itself wasn’t alarming, it was the degree of unhappiness that unsettled you. Your gaze briefly met Bucky’s, and you suspected that if looks could kill, your throat would have slit on sight.

You took a step behind Peter.

“I always knew that your methods would backfire one day, Peter.”

Your eyes landed on Steve as he said this, and you watched the blond pour himself a drink. Thor was sitting in the seat closest to him, and you felt grateful for that because you were sure that the sight of an angry and imposing Thor towering over you would have made you faint.

You glanced at Peter, face almost hurting now from how much you were frowning.

“Peter, what’s going on?” you whispered.

“Yeah, Peter,” Steve mockingly agreed. “What’s going on?”

You looked between them, that feeling a full-fledged impairment, now as you almost felt like you couldn’t move.

“Ask her, Peter.”

Steve’s voice had lowered, his tone cold when his blue gaze finally met yours.

“Ask her, right now.”

You wanted to run for some reason, get far away from here…but you couldn’t. Peter seemed to be hesitating about whatever he was supposed to be asking you, and Bucky beat him to it.

“Did you help Nat escape?”

The question shocked you both for how unexpected it was and also because it wasn’t true. You felt your lips part as you looked at Bucky, withering under his venomous stare.

“What?” you gasped. “N-No!”

You looked around, a painful feeling washing over you as you realized what all of this was about.

“No, I-.”

“I don’t believe you,” you hadn’t even been able to get the words out, interrupted by Bucky who charged towards you. “I don’t fucking believe you.”

You stumbled back per courtesy of Peter who forced you back with a hand on your waist. Your hand gripped his arm in fear as you looked around him, watching with wide eyes as he faced Bucky. The other man looked at you like he could kill you without thinking twice about it, and you supposed that he could. He’d done it to Wanda, after all.

You hadn’t realized that you’d started crying, your cheeks cold all of a sudden.

“Bucky.”

“She helped her, Peter. I know she did!” Bucky spat, pointing at you as you shook your head.

“No! I didn’t-! Peter,” you pleaded, looking at him, now. “I didn’t!”

Your voice was cracking, and you hoped they didn’t take that for an admission of guilt or something. You hadn’t helped Nat escape, but you knew that to them, the truth might as well be the same, and you couldn’t stop crying.

“Remind us again, Peter… Repeat to us the events of that night for you,” Steve finally spoke up again, his voice eerily calm as he looked at you both.

His words had you blinking, and you looked to Peter in confusion. He looked conflicted, almost miserable, in fact, and you watched him pull his lip between his teeth.

“What was it you said? You woke up…?”

You looked at Steve, hating him and his mocking tone. You hated the way he talked like he already knew the answers he was looking for, like he was the smartest person in the room.

“…because Y/N wasn’t beside me,” he finally answered.

Steve nodded, slowly and with a hum.

“…and why not? Where was she?”

Your heart dropped to the very bottom of your stomach, and the room swayed for half a second as you tightened your hand on Peter’s arm. You didn’t stare at any of them, your eyes falling to the floor as you fought to keep your food down. You felt numb and heavy all at once, and for the first time in a long time, you genuinely wanted to die.

“Where was she, Peter?” Steve asked again, not so nice this time.

Peter didn’t respond right away, and you wrapped your arm around him, forehead falling to his frame as you held in a sob.

“She was by the window,” he finally breathed, sounding defeated. “Looking out of it.”

You heard Clint mumble something, and although you couldn’t make it out, you knew it wasn’t nice.

Only another moment passed before Peter was harshly pushing you back, but it wasn’t fast enough. Bucky’s hand had gripped the sleeve of your nightgown, both ripping the fabric and scratching your skin in the process. You screamed in both shock and pain, hurrying back until you met the wall, clutching your arm as Peter harshly shoved the older man away.

“She didn’t do it!”

“Move, Peter,” Bucky hissed. “Anyone with half a brain can see that she helped her! She-.”

Bucky cut himself off, and when you looked around Peter, the other man’s chest was heaving as he stared you down.

“Anything could’ve happened to Nat,” he forced out. “Anything, and she-!”

“I didn’t help her!”

“Shut up,” he snarled at you, so harsh and violent that more tears fell.

You pressed your hands to your mouth, trying and failing to hold your sobs in.

“I don’t want to hear another word out of her mouth unless it’s the truth,” he bit out.

“Do not talk to her like that,” Peter told him, taking a step towards him. “Do you hear me?”

He continued before Bucky could say anything else.

“You’re angry, I get it, but if you think I’m going to stand here and let you talk to her like that, you’ve taken one too many blows to the head,” Peter sneered.

They stared at one another for what felt like too long, just staring each other down, and you felt yourself sliding to the floor. The room was blurry from your tears, and it felt so hard to breathe. You brought your knees up to your chest, squeezing your eyes shut as more tears fell.

“Let me talk to her,” you heard Peter whisper, the same thing you’d heard him yell earlier.

You couldn’t stop crying no matter how hard you tried, and you let your head fall into your hands. The room was quiet save from the sound of you, and it wasn’t long before you felt Peter’s hands reach for your own.

“Peter,” you sobbed.

“Look at me. Hey…look at me,” he softly said. “Please…”

You reluctantly peeled your eyes open, and you glanced up when Peter gripped your chin.

“Don’t look at them,” he told you, voice gentle. “Look right at me.”

His voice was soothing, and you reached up to grip his wrist as you met his dark gaze. His eyes were soft, but there was something swirling there that made you nervous. An underlying skepticism lie there, and you pressed your lips together.

“There’s my pretty girl,” he quietly praised, sadly smiling at you.

He wiped your face, tongue darting between his lips. He stared at you, running his eyes over your face, and drinking you in for a moment.

“Did you help Nat escape?”

“No,” you answered without hesitation. “I didn’t. I… I could never.”

…and it was true.

You weren’t like Nat. You were weak, passive at best, and you could never have the courage to actively help anyone in this house escape. At least, you didn’t think so. The best anyone would get out of you was…well…simply looking the other way, and that was why as Peter took a deep breath, hinting that he was not done, you feared what would come out of his mouth. You dreaded his next words…

…and Peter looked like he dreaded them too.

He looked like he dreaded them more than the question that had just left his lips, and maybe it was because he knew the truth in this moment.

“…but you saw her leave.”

He held your gaze, and you held his. You didn’t move…didn’t speak, but you didn’t need to. Your silence was confirmation enough, and you flinched when you heard Bucky break something. It sounded like a glass.

“Peter…”

“You saw her leave…and you didn’t say anything,” he sounded heartbroken, and you soon realized why. “You lied to me.”

Your head lowered, and you wiped your face, but more tears just replaced those. You reached for him, gripping his shirt, trying to keep him close.

“Peter… Peter, I’m sorry,” you choked out, trying to pull him closer.

“That’s why…” he trailed off, sighing to himself as his eyes fell closed.

He chuckled to himself, but it lacked humor.

“That’s why,” he said to himself, his own head lowering so that his forehead touched yours.

You felt him wipe your face, a shaky sigh leaving him.

“I’ll never stop loving you,” he murmured. “…but I’m not who you should be apologizing to.”

You looked at him with wide eyes when he pulled away, and you released another sob. Just the thought of what was waiting for you had you breathing short, and you pressed your hand to your chest. Peter still had one of your hands, and you could feel his chin on top of your head.

“Anything could have happened to her,” he told you. “Nat could’ve been seriously hurt…she could’ve died.”

“We told you,” you heard Bucky harshly tell him. “We told you you were being too soft on her.”

“Bucky…”

Peter’s voice reeked of exasperation as he held you to him, letting you cry into his chest. You couldn’t stop shaking, and your head was pounding so much from your tears. What would happen to you now? Would you be going down into the basement? For how long? Or…

Or was Steve going to make Peter tie you to a tree?

“What? You’re going to look at us and tell us we’re wrong, now? Nat escaped!”

You flinched as Bucky raised his voice, sounding much closer, too close.

“…and she just let it happen,” he snarled. “If she wasn’t yours…if she was just some random woman on the street, I’d wring her neck.”

That was enough to have Peter pulling away from you, presumably confronting Bucky, but you couldn’t even care, couldn’t even focus on that. You couldn’t stop crying no matter how hard you tried. Every time you did, you almost choked, and between that and trying to suck in air…

“…and why would I be like you…? Or Steve? You don’t think you broke her enough when you killed her friends? What did you expect, for her to behave rationally all this time?”

You heard Bucky chuckle, and for some reason, you hated the sound of it. It was cold, nasty, and it sounded like something that preceded trouble.

“Get off your high horse, Peter,” Bucky threw at him. “You’ve done just as much damage to her as we have…”

Bucky’s next words made your breath stop entirely.

“…it wasn’t us who killed…what was her name? Was it Michelle? Was that the one you shot?”

You felt…paralyzed, and the distinct lack of sobs filling the room was evident. Your hands had been on your forehead, and you could only stare at the floor as you felt like nothing was below your feet, falling without an end in sight. A sharp pain in your head forced you to squeeze your eyes shut, and you shook your head.

No.

No…no…

That wasn’t right.

It couldn’t be.

Sam…Sam killed her. Hadn’t he?

Your chest was hurting so bad that you actually clutched it, gasping for breath, and your other hand reached for the wall, trying and failing to steady yourself. You felt like you were in pain, and when you tried to stand up, you only fell back down. You felt familiar hands on your arms, and when you looked up, you flinched.

Peter frowned.

“Y/N…”

“What…?” you breathed.

That couldn’t be true…and yet…you couldn’t recall actually seeing Sam shoot Michelle. You…you had just assumed… But Peter was the first one to get to you that day, but he’d also spoke as if it was Sam…but Peter… As you looked into his brown eyes, the brown eyes that you had grown to look forward to looking into, you realized that Peter was a liar…and a murderer.

…and you wanted to be sick.

His hands were on your face, and you tried to bat them away.

“No, no, no,” you repeatedly mumbled, shaking your head. “No!”

You shoved at him, but Peter wouldn’t budge, determined to get you to calm down. Too preoccupied with wanting to be as far away from him as possible, you were none the wiser to Steve’s approach.

“It’s a good thing you brought Nat back up to prepare for Bruce’s visit,” the blond said, shoving past Peter and roughly grabbing you. “…because now she’ll have the whole basement to herself.”

The scream that you let out hurt your throat, and despite your anger and disgust with him, you still reached for Peter as Steve dragged you away. Your hand just barely grazed his as your feet lifted from the ground, and you reached out, trying to grab onto anything you could. You could hear Peter following behind Steve, begging and pleading with him on your behalf.

You could hear something occasionally being knocked over by you, the sound of breaking glass reaching your ears here and there. When Steve finally did reach the basement door, you pressed your feet to it, trying in vain to prevent this from happening. You hadn’t been in the basement since your first few days here, and it was not somewhere you wanted to be again. Not now…not after…

However, enthusiastic to see you suffer for letting his wife get away, Bucky unlocked and opened the door for Steve, the darkness threatening to swallow you whole. When Steve’s arm pressed into the cut Bucky had made on your arm, you winced.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time…”

…and with those last words, Steve tossed you inside. Your hands slid over the steps as you fell, feet tangling together, and you reached out to grab the rail, but it only slowed your descent. It did nothing to stop it, landing at the bottom of the stairs in a heap just as the door was slammed shut. You were surrounded by darkness, but it was the least of your worries, a choked wail escaping you at the thought of Peter.

You pressed your face into the floor as you cried, lacking the strength and will to move.

chapter one | a berzatto family christmas

masterlist | next chapter ↣

pairing(s): carmen berzatto x fem!reader : platonic!michael berzatto x fem!reader : platonic!richie jerimovich x fem!reader

summary: you reunite with carmy years later at the berzatto family christmas party.

warnings: language (cursing), blasphemy, angst (maybe?), spoilers kinda (if you haven't seen season 2 don't read), the berzatto family, not dialogue heavy, very subtle hints to mikey being suicidal, probably ooc!characters, idk what else but if you find something let me know please! not beta’d and minimal editing so sorry for any mistakes. i also wrote this overstimulated on caffeine so if it doesn’t make sense or it’s repetitive then we know why : )

semantics: no use of Y/N: reader goes by the nickname Baby it has a backstory and its literally so simple, if this bothers you idk what to tell you, sorry : (

wc: 4.7k

You were standing on the sidewalk, nerves filling your body as you hyped yourself up to take the few steps left to the porch and ring the doorbell. You shouldn’t have been so nervous, you knew that but your mind was spinning with the myriad of scenarios both good and bad; that could play out once you stepped foot past the threshold. In all honesty, it wasn’t so much that you were nervous to enter the house itself, it was the fact that you’d be face to face with your childhood best friend for the first time in you didn’t even know how long. Maybe childhood best friend was a stretch you had only been introduced into each other's lives due to circumstance, and because of that forced proximity, you both took comfort in having someone stable around.

The two of you weren’t friends because you had chosen each other, or because you had met in kindergarten and shared toys in the sandbox because the other kids were stingy. No, you met because as a single mom, your mother needed all the shifts she could get even if that meant working the graveyard shift at the hospital, and only seeing you a handful of hours throughout the day because most times she was too dead on her feet to be conscious for more than a few hours. And when she could no longer pay the babysitter her next best option was the eccentric woman across the street who had children close in age with you.

Enter Donna Berzatto, a woman who came to feel like a second mom to you. It's not that she replaced your mom, no one could ever replace her, but she was the only real mother figure you knew for a time in your life. Who took you in as her own when your mother needed a new babysitter, and not just you but integrated your mom into the family as well, when she was spared the time off from nursing. Donna Berzatto who never sent you home empty-handed, and always made enough food for you and your mom to last throughout the week, just so your mother wouldn’t have to worry about fitting grocery shopping into her already hectic schedule. Donna Berzatto who, even when you were old enough to no longer need a babysitter, would send Carmy across the street to fetch you for family dinner, or even just invite you over because she thought you needed company.

Now that you were thinking about it, it seemed like you were more friends with his mom than you ever were with Carmen Berzatto. But then that would be a lie wouldn’t it?

You and Carmen Berzatto were friends due to circumstance, maybe even best friends. You weren’t just friends at his house, but you were school friends, you were everywhere friends. He really was your only true friend, of course, you had school friends, but that’s just what they were. You saw them Monday through Friday for a mandatory education, never an hour before school started or a minute after the final bell. Which didn’t necessarily bother you, but sometimes you longed for a weekend invitation to hang out, not that it ever came. And it wasn’t like you were shunned or unpopular in school, you were just average, you didn’t see a point in making friends with people you weren’t actually interested in befriending.

That’s what made Carmy so different, yes maybe you were only introduced due to circumstances but that didn’t stop the two of you from latching onto each other for dear life. Your mom always wondered how you two even established the friendship you did, with both of you being shy and never feeling the need to go out of your way to make friends. Include the fact that you had been neighbors practically your whole lives and never once taken an interest in each other aside from shy waves and curious childlike staring when either of you would be outside.

Your relationship with Carmen progressed as any childlike relationship would, you befriended each other, had your incessant petty arguments and fights, nothing ever serious enough to actually cause damage just childish antics. And it continued to progress through middle school and high school, the two of you were each other’s person, you just understood each other, the two of you let the other understand you, and wanted to be understood by each other.

You could also recall what you explain as a minute change in your friendship. As Senior year approached and you and Carmy continued to grow into yourselves, you developed a slight crush on the boy you had grown up with. It obviously wasn’t as small as you thought it was if you were standing in front of his childhood home giving yourself a pep talk just to ring the damn doorbell though was it?

The unsolicited card and wrapped present weighed heavy in your tote bag, as your breath was made visible by the chilly Chicago weather.

It was Christmas and for all intents and purposes you had been planning on mailing the present to Carmen’s New York address, but after visiting The Beef on your way back into town Mikey and Richie had let it slip that indeed the infamous Berzatto sibling would be gracing everyone with his presence this holiday season.

It was moments like these you wished you had picked up on the Berzatto family’s horrible smoking habit, thankfully your mom had taught you just how vital having functioning lungs was.

Your head shot up as the sound of loud rambunctious voices drew your attention to the front door opening and closing revealing a face you were all too familiar with and actually relieved to see. The oldest Berzatto brother stood on the porch, hands on his hips as he gave you a goofy smile. You could feel your lips stretching into a smile of your own, the infectious aura that Michael Berzatto exuded doing wonders to calm your racing mind.

“I know you didn’t come all this way just to stand outside staring at my family home like a fucking weirdo Baby.” Mikey’s smile grew in size as he teased you.

You rolled your eyes at the childhood nickname you wish hadn’t stuck as Mikey opened his arms to wrap you in one of his signature hugs. The two of you stood on the porch embracing each other for what felt like hours, you needed this hug as much as he needed it, you knew it and Mikey did too. That was the thing about you and Mikey although not blood-related it was as if your souls knew each other in a past life. Of the Berzatto siblings, Mikey was the last sibling you developed a relationship with. Growing up he was always just Carmy’s older brother but as you grew up surrounded by him, he became your surrogate older brother as well. And when Carmy dashed off to pursue his culinary dreams in New York, you and Mikey grew even closer.

You stepped back from the embrace, your eyes finding Mikey’s as he looked at you with a knowing glint in his eyes. “You not standing out here cause of a certain Chef in that house are ya?” Mikey asked, smirking down at you.

You chuckled “The only reason I come around anymore is for Mama Donna.” You joked doing a poor job to convince Mikey.

He nodded, tossing his head back with a laugh, “You were always a shit liar Baby. Carmy’s an idiot, don't let him ruin your Christmas.”

You let out a sigh head resting against Mikey’s chest as you tried to let his words soothe you even more, “He’s not ruining it, you just know things have been kind of stilted between us, and I don’t know this whole situation just feels awkward.”

You raised your head to look at Mikey again, “It’s awkward right? Am I making things awkward? I don’t wanna ruin Christmas Mikey, I know how your mom is and I know how Carmy is, I don’t wanna ambush him.”

The worry in your voice was evident as Mikey stood there listening to your ranting. His hand reached out as he used his thumb to massage away the frown between your eyebrows. “Calm down Baby, you know Ma is expecting you, and she wouldn’t take it well if you missed Christmas. She looks forward to seeing you every year, you give her a piece of Carmy when he can’t be fucking asked to come home and visit.” His hand moved down to cup the side of your neck rubbing soothing circles where his thumb rested, “Do it for Ma okay? Let Carmy be fucking wonder boy Carmy a’ight.”

You laughed nodding your head as best as you could with Mikey’s hand holding it, he smiled giving you one last hug before dropping his hand to grab your wrist and tug you into the house. You stopped him by placing a hand on his arm that was connected to yours.

“Hold on Mikey, I got you something.” You moved to start rummaging through your tote bag stalling because you were too nervous for his reaction to the present.

“Awe you didn’t have to get me nothing.” You turned back to him with the present in your hands as he held his own hands over his heart mockingly. You knew Mikey didn’t do well when it came to sentimental things and the best you would get out of him was a joke as opposed to anything else.

You laughed holding the rectangular wrapped present out to him, “I wanted to Mikey, don’t think of this as a gift, think of it uhh…as a show of appreciation yeah?” You nodded feeling your face heat up as you dropped your head so he couldn’t see how unsure you were about the gift.

He smiled, finding your shyness endearing before tearing into the neatly wrapped paper and revealing a frame, his hands engulfing it from end to end. He smiled looking at it before you saw confusion etch across his face, “This is great Baby, yeah but uh what the fuck am I looking at?”

You shove his shoulder before laughing at him and grabbing the frame out of his hands but holding it in front of your chest so he could still see its contents, “It's a trademark certification you dumbass, can’t you fucking read Mikey.” You joked to try and underestimate how big of a gift this was.

Mikey’s brows furrowed before he snatched the frame out of your hands to get a better look at the certificate sitting behind the glass, eyes snapping back up to your face with a look you couldn’t read. You shuffled your feet feeling like you overstepped a boundary you didn’t even know was between you and Mikey, “Don’t worry though I-I, put it in your name, it’s not like I trademarked it for myself or anything. I just know how much this means to you and I, I know shit has been tough lately and I’m sorry if you feel like I stepped on your toes but…Mikey, you deserve good things too okay?” You hadn’t meant to go on a rant, but you could feel the apprehension leaving you as you became passionate in every word you spoke.

“You deserve to be fucking happy Mikey, and I, I want you to know I fucking believe in you and I’m always in your corner. If it's-” You were cut off by Mikey clearing his throat, causing your eyes to snap back up to his, all the emotions he didn’t know how to translate into words swirling in his brown eyes, a small smile resting on his lips.

“Mikey-,” Before you could get another word out you were once again trapped in his comforting embrace, this hug conveying something completely different from the earlier one you shared. Mikey’s head tucked into your neck as you felt his uneasy breathing through your hands clutched around him. Mikey wasn’t the type to get emotional in front of other people, and feeling a tear of his smear against your cheek as he raised his head from your neck and settled his bearded cheek against yours, you weren’t sure if you had done the right thing by giving him the gift or not.

The two of you stood in silence as you allowed Mikey his moment, not wanting to make him feel insecure about you being present while he was being emotional. When he finally pulled away you could see the leftover sheen in his eyes. He tucked the framed certificate under his arm as both his hands reached up to grab your face in both of his hands, eyes finding yours, a whispered “thank you, baby,” leaving his lips as he placed a kiss on your forehead before he grabbed the frame again and wrapped you in another hug.

His head rested atop yours as your face rested against his chest, ear pressed against his beating heart. You lied, you thought the last hug was different, but no it was this hug that was different, while the second hug you shared in the span of 20 minutes was a hug of love and gratitude. This hug felt heavier, like there were things Mikey wanted to tell you but couldn’t, things he only felt he could convey through a hug, things you weren’t sure if you wanted to question or not.

It had been almost 20 minutes since Michael had escaped the house to do whatever the fuck it was he was doing outside. Carmy didn’t know and in all honesty he didn’t actually give a shit either, too busy helping Donna out in the kitchen to try to give any thoughts to whatever had grabbed Mikey’s attention.

He was focused in the corner of the kitchen making Tiff Sprite to help alleviate her nausea symptoms. Anyone else would have done their best to block out the rambunctious noises going on throughout the house, not Carmy though, the chaos fueled him, it grounded him. If the house was quiet it would have been too much for him, to be alone with his own thoughts ping-ponging around in his head, waiting for a chance to drown him. So if he had to listen to his mom list a plethora of things he needed to make sure happened for Christmas dinner to go off without a hitch while he was making Sprite from scratch, he welcomed it.

He finished his concoction just in time for Richie to walk through the kitchen, the older man trying to figure out how the fuck it was even possible to make Sprite from scratch. Gratefully taking the glass Carmy had offered to him, marveling at the carbonated drink in his hand.

Carmy nodded in his direction, “Yo Cousin, where the fuck is Mikey. He just fucking disappeared.” Carmy’s head swiveled around the kitchen double checking whether his brother was there or not, coming up empty in his search. Richie glanced up before settling his eyes back on the drink in his hand still doing the mental math to wrap his head around what the fuck Carmy just made.

Richie jutted his head in the direction of the front door, “Outside talking to Baby.” His eyes finally focused on Carmy’s in time to see the frown grace the younger man’s face, his eyebrows pinching together in agitation, annoyed that his brother was on a phone call rather than inside. Though that’s what Carmy told himself subconsciously he knew he was just annoyed at the fact that Mikey was even talking to you at all. Carmy didn’t think he was possessive but as you and Mikey grew closer through the years, he couldn’t help but feel miffed about the ever growing friendship between the two of you. You and your friendship with Carmy was the first thing in his life that he felt like was actually his and his alone.

It’s funny really for Carmy to think he has any sort of claim over you, or like the two of you were even really friends anymore. When he left Chicago to pursue his culinary dreams, he left you behind to, essentially ghosting the one real friend he did have. It’s not like he meant to, you two just went your separate ways after graduation, and he wasn’t even sure if there even was an “Us” when it came to the two of you anymore. If that was the case the only person he had to blame was himself, it was no fault of yours that your friendship had hit a plateau, Carmy hadn’t responded to a text of yours in years, and the fact that you still texted him to this day caused a slight pain in his chest as he stood in the middle of his mother’s kitchen, frown still etched into his features.

“He’s outside on the phone with Baby?” Carmy questioned the ache in his chest doing nothing to alleviate his irritation. It was Richie’s turn to frown reciprocating the same confused look Camry wore.

“What - No dickhead, he’s talking to Baby, like she’s right in fucking front of him and shit.” Richie swatted the side of Carmy’s head like a child. “Your moms invites her to every holiday, Cousin, and she comes every time.” Richie knew the last bit wasn’t necessary but felt Carmy rightfully deserved it, all anyone wanted from the youngest Berzatto was a visit.

“Dudes been out there for fucking ever though, those to idiots just standing outside like a bunch of fucking jackoffs.” Richie left the kitchen not waiting for Carmy to follow him before heading to the front door. He stopped moving the curtain on one of the side windows to spot two of the people he considered family. He let out a low whistle nudging Carmy’s shoulder who had finally joined his side nodding his head to the window.

“Get a load of these fucking losers hugging on the porch like they’re in some fucking Hallmark movie or some shit.” Richie laughed pointing at you and Mikey through the window. Carmy leaned closer to get a peak at what Richie was going on about.

Carmy hated to admit it, but Richie was right, the too of you looked like the happy couple who just saved a small town’s Christmas or whatever the fuck Hallmark movies were about. Mikey had finally separated himself from you long enough for Carmy to take in your features. He’d be lying if he said the years apart made him forget what you looked like. You were still the same girl he left in Chicago all those years ago except the wand of maturity had touched you, and in his opinion he thought you looked more beautiful than you had in high school.

Carmy was never one to pay too much attention to a woman’s features, and not because he didn’t care, it's just that he didn’t think it mattered. But as he drank in your form he learned in that exact moment why a woman might want people to notice the small things. Like the haircut you were sporting that Carmy felt shaped your face well, not that he knew shit about stuff like that, but he could appreciate art when he saw it. The outfit you picked out doing wonders to compliment your tall form and accentuate your legs. Carmy could look at you all day, scratch that he wanted to look at you all day.

He was torn from his reverie as Richie narrated the scene happening in front of them, “Aw look at these fuckers lookin all in love an shit.” He joked watching as Mikey slung his arm around you and led you towards the door, what looked to be a frame held in his other hand. The two of you walked side by side, your arm wrapped around his torso, hugging him into your side, Mikey’s head leaning slightly down to whisper something in your ear a small smile gracing your face as Mikey pressed his lips onto your temple lingering there for what Carmen swore was forever.

The tightness in his chest intensified tenfold as the realization of just how close you and Mikey had become sank into him. He didn’t know how to feel, his brain not even allowing any emotions to process, saving himself from any conclusions he might come to from a split second interaction.

Carmy left, he chose his path, he knew this, and he had no regrets he would pursue his dream every time the opportunity was presented. He just wished that, maybe if he held onto you as tightly as you still held onto him, it would’ve been him greeting you on the sidewalk on Christmas Day, being the sole object of your attention holding you close to his longing body. He knew overall the decisions he made regarding you were wrong, while he ignored your daily text and calls enough times for you to just resort to monthly check ins asking him about his endeavors and congratulations as you heard about his achievements in the culinary industry, he knew deep down that Mikey answered every text and call you sent his way, made it his mission to connect with you anytime you were back in Chicago.

Carmy couldn’t admit it to himself but deep down he knew his family saw spending time with you as a way to stay connected to him. You were the closest thing any of them still had to Carmy, and even though he had essentially cut you off from his life, his family loved you too much to allow Carmy’s shortcomings to affect their relationship with you.

He was broken from the recesses of his mind as Richie threw the door open stepping over the threshold raising his hands in the air to welcome you and Mikey into the house. The glass of Sprite still clutched in his left hand, a broad smile spread across his face as you left Mikey’s hold to greet Richie eyes not having spotted Carmy who was hidden behind Richie’s small frame.

Carmy’s first up close look at you in years were your hands wrapped around Richie’s torso as he pulled you into a hug, rocking the two of you back and forth, Richie let you go quickly turning his body back into the house “A’ight fuckers you can all stop pretending you care so much about Carmy and his little rat in the chef hat bullshit. We got the real deal here now, Baby's gracing us with her journalist presence.”

Carmy’s brows furrowed at Richie’s dig only slightly offended about being compared to a fictional character named after pasta, too caught up in allowing the sound of your laugh to grace his ears for the first time in what felt like forever. Mikey had finally caught up to you standing behind you with a hand placed on your shoulder, Carmy watched as his brother’s hand glided up and down your arm before giving your bicep a slight squeeze and nodding his head in Carmy’s direction.

If Carmy was being honest it was becoming increasingly difficult to quiet his mind that was eagerly trying to piece everything together. From yours and Mikey's prolonged moment on the porch, to the kiss he placed on your temple, add in Richie’s jokes and the almost constant physical contact between you and Mikey and Carmy was sure he figured shit out.

You looked to where Mikey motioned his head finally noticing Carmy’s figure standing there while Richie ran off towards the stairs after his impromptu introduction. Looking at Carmy was like being in a Time Machine, nothing had drastically changed, he looked more exhausted than what you remembered. But overall he was the same Carmy you parted ways with all those years ago.

A small smile graced your lips as you took him in, he was still your Carmy appearance wise, and right now for you that was all that mattered. You lifted your hand in a small wave gaining his attention, your smile growing wider as your eyes locked with his.

The clearing of a throat broke you from your thoughts, Mikey’s hand giving your shoulder a squeeze as he walked you two into the house before shutting the door behind him. As he finished he stood in front of you so that Carmy was partially covered from view by each brother in your line of vision though your focus was taken up by the eldest. He gave you a reassuring smile before gently knocking his fist against your chin and presumably turning to leave you and Carmy alone.

As Mikey walked past Carmy he gave him his signature grin and a wink before patting his shoulder as left to check on Donna in the kitchen and mingle with the other guests.

Carmy’s face was still set in the same frown it had been in when he first asked Richie where Mikey ran off to. You took a deep breath to settle your nerves before taking a step to close the gap between you, your hand reached out to gently squeeze Carmy’s arm though stopping in midair as you watched him subtly flinch. Your smile faltered, your hand finding its rightful place at your side. You looked up to see the apology in Carmy’s eyes, you did your best to brush the moment off, maybe you came on too strong, maybe it wasn’t fair that you were still pushing for a friendship when Carmy had given you all the reasons to stop trying, maybe the Carmy in front of you was a different Carmy to the one you used to know. Maybe the life where it was you and Carmy had finally taken its last breath and you were just too clingy and desperate to realize.

You cleared your throat trying to alleviate the lump forming from the thoughts that were racing through your brain. The small placating smile on your face there to stop you from having a full breakdown in the Berzatto’s foyer. “Its good to see you Carmen, I hope New York is treating you well.” You lips wrapped around the generic greeting forcing yourself not to say anything you might regret.

Carmy nodded his head rapidly accepting your lackluster words, his lips parting and closing all in the same breath. The man obviously had nothing to say to you, and maybe you just had to accept that. You stayed a moment longer cursing yourself for doing so as the air between you two filled with palpable tension.

“Baby, is that you? My goodness you look fucking gorgeous.” Half of Donna’s body had popped out of the kitchen finally gaining a spare moment to greet you. Her words mumbled through the cigarette between her lips, a ladle held in her right hand while the left was occupied by tongs. Her apron covered in all sorts of sauces and whatever the hell else your brain couldn’t even begin to discern.

You laughed half in amusement and half in relief, you weren’t sure how much longer you could stand there as Carmy burned holes in your body. You waved at Donna quickly, beginning to head towards her to join her in the kitchen. It wasn’t your first choice as an escape from Carmen but you’d rather try and help Donna finish preparing Christmas dinner than be around Carmy for another minute.

Donna waved the tongs in Carmy’s direction, “Jesus fucking Christ Carmen, take the girls bag and coat. Don’t just fuckin stand there.” She huffed eyes glaring the longer Carmen stayed glued to the spot. You handed him your tote as soon as his arm shot out and began hastily shimmying out of your jacket. You gave him a soft smile before laying the jacket on his awaiting arm.

You began to leave the foyer as Donna motioned for you to follow her, mentally preparing yourself for what you were about to walk into. A sudden thought occurred causing you to gently grip Carmy’s bicep as you were walking past him, “I uh, I actually bought you a Christmas present. So um, find me later yeah?” You smiled tilting your head slightly in questioning.

Carmen Berzatto graced you with a small smile, nodding back in agreement as you sent him one final nod and turned to enter the kitchen. The first positive emotion he granted you since you walked back into his life 30 minutes ago.

next chapter ↣

a/n: this is my first fic that i’m publishing and i genuinely have no clue what the fuck any of this is, : ) but nonetheless hope you all enjoy! or don’t i’m just a stranger on the internet. constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated though. please like, comment, reblog if this behemoth tickles your fancy!

also i write for fun/hobby and i'm such an inconsistent bitch so don't get your hopes too high, but this will potentially be a series idk yet though lol.

Another thing I liked is how Laurent's trauma is handled, because usually when a character has a Secretly Traumatic Backstory there's some kind of annoyingly maudlin scene about it. Either they get into some kind of big conflict with the love interest and are forced to explain themselves so they don't get judged or dumped, or the love interest intrudes on a vulnerable moment and sees them being abused or somehow handling the consequences of that abuse, or they are explained the circumstances by a benevolent third party, and this changes their view of the abused character because now they're god's poorest meow meow and I just fucking hate it every time.

Like, this is why I stopped reading this type of story: because the amount of crowding and backing into a corner and privacy violation that happens to abused characters in order to coax them into opening up about it and reassure them that they're okay is so annoying. I feel like I've been psychologyposting on main too much lately, so I might explain later why I feel this way or I might not but in any case I hate it.

I love that this book is the literal opposite of that, that Damen not only doesn't crowd Laurent and insist that he open up, but that Damen ensuring space and privacy and time to calm down for Laurent when he's overwhelmed is repeatedly portrayed as an act of friendship and caring and love (that Laurent later reciprocates, because they both lose their heads when something pushes their buttons and understand this about each other).

I also love how Damen doesn't fall in love with Laurent because Laurent is sad and fucked up, or because he's so brave to have put up with the abuse, or because Damen too is sad like Laurent (I'm physically restraining myself from going off on a rant about how shared trauma is hardly ever a good foundation for a relationship): no, he falls in love with Laurent because he's whip-smart, and a good leader, and funny, and tender once he opens up, and a lateral thinker, and a man of integrity who keeps his promises and pays back his debts (and because he's pretty and blonde and good at sporty shit that Damen likes). Some of these things may have been shaped by the awful shit that happened to Laurent, as they were also probably shaped by his station or his education or his body type or any other circumstance of his life, but it's refreshing to have a character who went through awful shit but who also has other things going on for him that make him loveable instead of being completely defined by his trauma. And even when Damen finds out, the way he thinks about Laurent literally doesn't change at all - the things he likes about Laurent are still seen in the same light as always, Laurent's personality as a whole is still the same, even his attitude towards what Laurent did to him when they first met doesn't change much (as we see in the short story epilogue). And even this last bit is really cool because Laurent is never stripped of his agency or made out into some sort of helpless victim currently, both of which would probably mortify him with how much he's trying to establish that he's not at any opportunity.

And I also like how it's not necessary for Laurent to tell Damen about it in order for them to be close, nor does Damen push him into it. And everyone else seems to agree that it's Laurent's story to tell when and how he wants it told, except for the villain of the piece, who reveals it in the most awful way possible. This is particularly important because Damen spends three books grabbing everyone in Laurent's life by the shoulders and shaking them and going, "Why do you care about this guy??? Have you noticed that he's kind of an ashole?? Why are you loyal to him?? Why???" and no one ever says anything, because they're protective of Laurent and don't want to take away his agency or privacy because it's his fucking story to tell. Even after Damen finds out, we don't see him mention it and he probably lets Laurent open up or not on his own terms, as he does with everything else that doesn't directly concern him. Even though we've seen through Laurent's dialogue time and time again that he's probably conceptualizing it in some fucked up ways in his own head and needs yet to realize that he's not some kind of twisted pervert for what happened to him, crowding him about it before he's ready won't accomplish much.

And the story itself backs all this by never being maudlin about it even though it's obvious what happened pretty early on (I figured it out really early, I remember suspecting it almost immediately and being dead sure of it by the Ancel scene in the garden); it kind of elipses around it, gives hints and parallels to other characters in similar circumstances, has Laurent say incoherent shit that makes sense in context, has other characters hint at it, but with Laurent being one of the central characters it's cool that the story gives him that respect and doesn't wallow in the tragedy of it all.

COULDA, WOULDA, SHOULDA, DIDN'T (ALTERNATE ENDING).

➳ synopsis: aventurine has never lost. that's what he tells people when he makes bets and in passing conversation about gambling. but every night when he lays in bed, he will always think about the day he almost lost you. angst version.

➳ character/s: aventurine

➳ warnings: 2.1 spoilers, aventurine backstory spoilers, aventurine real name spoilers, mentions of death, slavery (it's not romanticised, you're safe-), mentions of torture, blood, hurt/comfort, marriage, sleeping together (literally), reader described as beautiful

➳ word count: 0.7k

➳ notes: here's the happy version for those who were asking for it LMAO also i jumped on the bandwagon of fic writers inspired by aventurine official art-

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 / 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭  / 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 / 𝐰𝐢𝐩 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

aventurine will never forget the day he met you. he himself didn't know much better than you did as you ran for your lives as children, but he knew he never wanted to see you like that ever again. that night, he thinks he fell in love.

even with the heavy metal cuffs crushing your wrists, he thought you were beautiful. in the most horrible circumstances, you found solace in each other's arms. aventurine made it a habit to kiss your brand mark and then your forehead as he let you use his arm as a pillow. any screams of pain either of you made as you were roughly dragged from your cell to undergo 'disciplining' haunt your minds in the rare moments of emptiness.

the day aventurine was bought away by jade, he's never felt fear quite the same as looking back and seeing you be dragged away by your cuffs, calling out for him as he left while you were pulled further down the abyss of pain and agony.

"i'll come back for you, wait for me!" he yelled behind him. he was desperate, he didn't know if he would ever get to come back for you and ultimately, that scared him more. the idea that his last interaction with you was filled with despair only fueled his desire to rise to the top. he would free himself and ensure that when (if) he freed you, you would have everything you needed immediately.

aventurine remembers the day he came back for you. he'd beat up a lot of guards, and possibly killed a couple, only to find you unconscious and bleeding onto the cold concrete floor in your cell. scrambling to his knees, he held you in his arms and bolted out the door, desperately praying to whatever god would listen that you were alive.

he lived a nightmare as you recuperated in hospital, but nothing came close to making him cry since leaving you than holding your hand and kissing you all over again as if it was your first time. each night as he slept in the chair beside your hospital bed, he wondered what would've happened if he never got to you or was too late.

when he proposed to you, it felt like a fever dream. when he woke up the next morning to see you beside him, ring glinting in the morning sun and cheek pressed into a silk pillowcase rather than dusty concrete. he smiled in adoration, pulling you closer by the waist and chuckling at your sleepy whine of protest before burying your head into his chest and falling back asleep. taking your hand in his, he kissed the ring he'd given to you as a token of your engagement, resting his chin atop your head.

his phone rang and he sighed, blindly reaching behind him to check who was calling him. dr. ratio.

groggily, he answered. "you're calling early, don't you know i'm spending my paid leave with my wonderful fiance?"

aventurine could practically hear the eye roll from dr. ratio over the phone. "i am well aware, i just thought you would want to be informed that i have located your old master that was missing from the premises when you were searching for them," he said, probably polishing one of his marble busts to occupy himself.

"...keep an eye on him. i'll figure out what to do with him when i get more sleep." and with that, aventurine hung up the phone. he returned his attention to you and caressed his thumb over your hip as he pondered this newfound information.

he could've lost you if he didn't get there when he did. he's grateful for that, because he can have you by his side forever and a little bit more. he would've come looking for you to discover you'd died if he didn't push himself harder than recommended to rise to the top. he should've lost you, for that is what the sick gods on some alternate plane of reality deemed reasonable for his kind.

he didn't.

his brother’s keeper - m. 

 ⤷ summary: after yet again pining for his brother’s girl, newt finds himself stuck between his brother and the woman he is in love with...quite literally.

𓇬 word count: 8.0k 𓇬 pairing: theseus scamander | fem!reader | newt scamander 𓇬 genre: smut, porn with a little plot  𓇬 rating: 18+ 𓇬 warnings: profanity, depictions of spiked drinks 𓇬 kinks: voyeur, cuckholding, breeding, creampie, menage et toi, oral (fem recieving), anal mdom/femsub/msub 𓇬 author’s note: Something you can think of as a sequel to rumors, or a stand alone one shot. I will definitely not see the pearly gates after this, I am so sorry in advance! I may be a bit rusty so please be gentle and accept this late Christmas gift as a New Years surprise. Expect more from me soon. ;)

     It was usually in conditions like these, when the streets of London were slick with cool wet, and the biting cold spread mist from hot mouths filled the air, that made a time meant for cheer and love, one of desolate solitude for those less fortunate. Whatever the circumstances may be, it is in these times Newt Scamander often found himself alone. Though, if you were to ask him yourself he would deny the accusation and snarkily ask if one could ever be truly alone when surrounded by magnificent creatures. Despite the best efforts of his brother, who cared for him most earnestly, Newt hadn’t spent the holidays with him in years. 

      He had his reasons to be sure. Back when Theseus was engaged with his childhood friend Leta, there was no doubt an awkwardness. The younger Scamander brother was in love with the Lestrange girl. To see his brother have what he had longed for since he first met her put a strain on his heart. Newt was not bold in any sense of the word. Being forward with a woman never came easy to him. When he’d lost the chance to win Leta’s heart he swore that when he found himself enamored by another woman he would make it clear to her his affections.     In came Tina Goldstein, an American auror who he found himself entangled with on a trip overseas. He felt something for her—a kind of attraction that was different from the one he felt for Leta, but an attraction nonetheless. Tina was tall and beautiful and treated him with more respect than anyone ever had. But even that effort fell short. Tina had become more dedicated to her work and her sister. There was no room for him in her life at the moment. The two drifted apart succeeding the events of Grindelwald's rally in Paris. He returned to London, and she to her own affairs.     That had been nearly three years ago. Newt did well on his own, he felt. His creatures keep him busy enough. Getting through the day was easy. The nights were the hardest. At night there wasn't anything busying his mind from thinking of you.     Newt started to believe he was cursed to always fall in love with women he couldn't have. Whoever it was must have been especially cruel to make him fall for his brother’s girlfriends. That could be the only explanation. Otherwise,  he was just a sick, perverted man who desperately needed therapy. Little did he know two things can be true.    It wasn’t as though it were intentional. When it came to Leta, he had loved her first. Theseus just happened to get her. You, however, was something he did not expect. He was acquainted with you, only knowing and conversing with you when Leta was involved, considering you were her friend. It wasn't until she died that he got to know you better. During that time, Newt stayed with his brother and swore to stay by his side and help him and the ministry in capturing Grindelwald. Theseus grieved, and Newt was there to care for him, and so were you.     You would come by with food and insist on helping clean the apartment. The gesture was kind, especially when you were going through your own grief. Newt wondered if you used your kindness and instinct to help others as a way to distract yourself from the pain you truly felt. He was able to prove his theory right after many nights alone, drinking gin and fire whiskey, when he got to know you more intimately.     Theseus never knew, but in those first few months he spent grieving, Newt had grown rather fond of you. You were funny, kind, a great cook, and you listened to him, something no one else really did. The day he discovered your relationship with his brother he was disappointed, to say the least. Once again, Theseus had managed to take someone else he cared about. Newt often wondered how different things would have been if he had kissed you that night as you so desperately wanted him to. The same night when you had drank one too many gin and tonics and found the Scamander family album hidden in Theseus’s bookshelf. That night you somehow wound up on top of his lap, flipping through embarrassing baby pictures and evidence of his pubescent awkwardness. You were too drunk to notice how tense he was underneath you, or how with every shift of movement, or every laugh you chuckled, your ass pressed against his crotch.     When you came across a picture of Newt his mother had taken of him on the first day working at the Ministry when he was sixteen, you gushed over how ‘adorable’ he looked. Newt blushed. Then you said something he didn't expect.     “I see what Leta meant. You were always cute.”     Newt didn't know what to say. You positioned your head on his shoulder to look up at him. Newt was never good at eye contact, but he found it hard to tear his eyes away from yours.     “You have pretty eyes,” you slurred suddenly with a smile stretched across your lips. He could smell the alcohol on your breath your faces were so close.     “So do you,” he said, surprising himself with his own brazenness. It was true. You had two pretty (e/c) eyes like none he’d ever seen, even when they fluttered and stared blankly up at him in an intoxicated daze. But it was only with the help of the three glasses of gin he had earlier that helped him say it aloud.     Your smile grew wider. Your hand went to cup his left cheek. “I never understood Leta,” you mumbled. “How could anyone look past you?”     He’d wanted it so bad. To feel your lips against his would be his greatest reward after all he’d been through, after all his shortcomings. If he were a lesser man he would have taken advantage of your drunkenness. But you could barely sit up on your own, and he couldn’t tell how long it would be before you lost consciousness and fell asleep on the couch as you had done several times before.     “Kiss me, Newt,” you asked. “Please.” It was the first sentence you hadn't slurred since the gin entered your bloodstream. In a moment of weakness, his hand caressed your cheek. His thumb swiped over your bottom lip and he heard your breath hitch in your throat.     You were so beautiful and there you were, begging him to kiss you. Begging for something more by the way you pressed your body into him and looked desperately at his lips through half-lidded eyes. And maybe if he had four gin and tonics instead of three he would have given you what you wanted. But he was more sober than you and he respected you far too much to take advantage of you in your current state. What he had to do afterward took all his restraint.     The next day you greeted him in the kitchen with the same kind smile you always gave him as you prepared breakfast. The matter was never brought up again and Newt assumed you simply didn't remember. He saw no point in bringing it up himself. Before he knew it, it was too late. Theseus had set his eyes on you and wasted no time claiming you as his. Newt could not touch you, no matter how badly he wanted to.     And so, once again, Newt found himself in love with his brother’s girl. Constantly keeping her on his mind, constantly yearning for her, but always stepping back. He was still close to you, which only made it harder.     For the past year, he’s kept the secret of that night. But that wouldn't stop him from thinking of it, and all that could have been, just as he was doing now, lying in his bed with his hand wrapped around his cock. If only he could have you with him now and feel your skin on his, taste the salt of your sweat, and feel the heat of your body. He could only imagine. But even in his imagination he was the happiest man on earth. Theseus must have felt like God.     Unbeknownst to him, he would get a taste of that feeling the very next day. In the morning when he woke up, he found an owl waiting for him with a letter. It was an invitation, from you no less, to join you and Theseus for a Christmas dinner later that evening. In truth, Newt had been so busy tending to his creatures the past week he had forgotten how close Christmas was approaching, let alone that it was Christmas Day.     The thought of spending an evening with you was enticing. It was Theseus’s presence that made him second guess. He loved his brother, that was no question. He probably loved his brother more than anyone else in the world, which is why he could sit silently as he continuously watched him have everything he ever wanted with no protest. That didn't mean it was easy. It was hard to see you with him, even harder than when he had to endure Leta with him. At least then he had Tina as a distraction. Now there was only you and he could see no one else better than you.     Had it been Theseus who sent the letter he wouldn't have agreed to stop by. He might not have even replied. But since it was you, and only because it was you, he sent an owl confirming his arrival.     On the other side of things, you were ecstatic. It had been some time since you'd seen Newt and you considered him one of your closest friends. You knew Theseus would love having his little brother visit for Christmas and felt it would be the perfect present for him.     You had told Newt to come a couple of hours earlier than when you would be expecting Theseus. When you opened the door you greeted him with a bright, toothy smile and open arms. Newt hugged you back awkwardly and stepped inside.     “Everything is cooking in the oven now,” you said. “I’m just finishing up the pie for dessert. Come, have a drink in the kitchen.”     Newt followed behind you. You looked adorable in the tacky red and green Christmas sweater you wore over your long white dress. You made him a drink and started on your creme pie.     “It’s so good to see you, Newt,” you told him. “I was afraid you couldn’t make it. I know how busy your creatures keep you.”     “It’s good to see you too,” he replied. “Bunty insisted she stay and help while I am away. She claimed she had no other plans.”     You pouted your lips. “That’s awful!” You said. “You should have told me! I would have gladly invited Bunty over if I knew. No one should be alone on Christmas.”     Newt smiled softly. There you go again, always thinking of others. As the two of you sat in the kitchen you caught each other up on your lives. Things were going great for you, Newt discovered. You had recently gotten a promotion and received a medal for your efforts spying abroad for your department and gathering intel on Grindelwald and his acolytes.    Newt told you about his own travels abroad, searching for and rescuing creatures whenever he could while doing his own work for Dumbledore to support the cause. He told you stories of the places he’d been and the creatures he’d seen, even promising to let you visit his home to see them for yourself. “They’d love you,” he said.     Before he knew it, the two of you were sharing a glass of wine on the couch while the food kept warm. Then you shared another, and another, and another while you both waited for Theseus to return.     “He works later these days,” you tell Newt. “There’ve been days where he doesn't come home at all. Just stays up there, drooling over papers in his office. I worry about him sometimes.”     “That’s my brother,” he says. “Always working harder than anyone else. Always having something to prove. In some ways I’m jealous.”     You chuckled. “Jealous? How so?”     “He’s always so,” Newt paused, searching his brain for the right word. “Dedicated. Determined. He sets his mind on something and won't stop until he does it. He’s always been like that.”     You turned to face him next to you on the couch, sitting on your legs and propping your elbow on the back of the couch to lean your head against your hand. You peer at him quizzically. “But you’re like that too.”     Newt scoffed. “No I’m not,” he chuckled as he took a sip of his wine.     “Yes, you are!” You insist. “You’re very determined and dedicated to your animals. You have done things many others are too afraid to do; all to protect the things you love. Even Theseus admits you are much better suited to be an auror than he is.”     Newt raised a curious brow, a coy smile on his face. “Really?”     You nod. “He’s very amazed by you—admires you, even. As do I. You’re very brave, Newt. No one is more determined or dedicated than you.”     “There is one person,” Newt muttered.      “Who?” You asked, genuinely curious about his answer, prepared to playfully berate him for his humbleness.     “Theseus.”     “Well, he doesn't seem to think so,” you say.     “But he is,” Newt quipped, whipping his head to look you in the eye. The energy in the room shifted, and though both your brains were fuzzy from wine, you could tell the moment had gone from playful to serious.     “He is,” he continued. “He wanted to become head boy and he did. He strived to be the best auror at the ministry and he is. He wanted Leta and he got her, and when he wanted you, he got you.”     You were silent as you listened, unsure of where exactly Newt was going with his ramblings.     “I could never do that,” he admitted. “If I could, you would be with me now, not him.”     Now it was the wine talking. You were surprised. Newt’s face was red, but at this point, it wasn't clear if it was because he was embarrassed, frustrated, or tipsy.     “What do you mean, Newt?” You asked, your voice soft and sweet. His expression softened, and he looked at you in such a way your heart fluttered in your chest.     “You are so beautiful,” he proclaimed, making your face burn hotter than it already was. “I should have told you that a long time ago. If I were as forthright as Theseus I would have told you I loved you the night we almost kissed a year ago on this couch.”     Newt chuckled at your stunned expression, unable to say a word. “You don’t remember, but you were beautiful then too. You sat right here in my lap and you held my face in your hand and begged me to kiss you. I would have if you weren’t intoxicated. I wanted to talk to you about it the next day but you had already forgotten—”     “I didn't forget,” you spoke finally. Now it was Newt’s turn to be surprised.     “What?”     You put your wine glass down on the coffee table and scooted closer to Newt on the couch. Your knees touched his thigh, but neither of you moved.     “I didn't forget,” you repeat, clearer this time. “We were drinking while Theseus was asleep in his room one night. I had found your family album and we looked at it together when I asked you to kiss me.”     Newt frowned. “If you remember then why didn't you say anything?”     “I was embarrassed,” you reveal. “When you didn't kiss me I thought that I made a fool of myself. That you rejected me. When you didn't say anything afterwards I figured that was it. That you just wanted to forget and stay as friends.”     Newt couldn't believe his ears. All this time you had remembered that night and thought he held no feelings for you. He was spiraling in his head, you could tell by the way he distantly stared into his glass of wine.     “Newt?” You called out to him, taking his glass and replacing it with your hand.     “This is what I mean,” he said finally. “I wasn't determined. If I were like Theseus I would have talked to you regardless of whether or not I thought you remembered. I would have told you how wonderful it felt holding you in my arms and how desperately I wanted to press my lips against yours and taste you on my tongue. I would have told you how much I love you.”     Your stomach turned excitedly at Newt’s words. You squeezed his hand tightly. “Newt...”     He stopped, realizing what he just said. “I...I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I don’t know why I’m saying these things.”     “That would be the veritaserum in the wine,” said a deep voice behind him.     Newt turned around and found his brother, Theseus, standing under the archway to the foyer.     “Theseus,” He stammered and quickly stood to his feet.     “No need to get up, brother,” he said calmly. “It wasn’t as if I didn’t know.”     On the couch, you held up the wine bottle and inspected it. “How did veritaserum get into the wine?”     “I drugged it,” Theseus said simply as he walked past Newt and took a seat across from the couch in an armchair.     “Why the hell would you do that?” You asked Theseus angrily.     “Because this morning you said Newt accepted your invitation to dinner. Because I knew the real reason why Newt hasn't visited me in months is that he feels guilty for loving you knowing you’re with me,” he explained. “And I didn't want to have a Christmas dinner with a brother who resents me and sulks across the table pining for you. So, I put veritaserum in the wine I knew you wanted to drink tonight and left the two of you alone, hoping my baby brother would finally confess his feelings. And he did! Now we all know.”     You shot up from your seat and glared at Theseus. “This is cruel Theseus. You had no right!”     “I will admit it was slightly unethical, but I don’t see the harm in it. Aren’t you glad that Newt confessed his feelings?”     “Yes,” you answered instantly, though, of course, not of your own free will.     Theseus then turned to Newt. “And don't you feel better having finally told her?”     “Yes,” Newt admitted.    Theseus smiled. “Good! Now everything��s better.”     “You aren't upset?” Asked Newt.     Theseus looked at him as though he were confused. “Why would I be upset?”     “You’re not upset that I’m in love with your girlfriend?”     Theseus pursed his lips in thought before shifting his eyes to the half-empty bottle of wine. Standing to his feet, he walked towards the coffee table and grabbed the bottle by the neck. He took a swing of the truth-spiked wine and put it back down.     “Why don’t you ask me again.” He said.     “You’re not upset that I love y/n?” Newt once again asked.     Theseus smiled almost tenderly at his brother. “No.”     The older brother walked back to his chair and sat down, leaving you and Newt stupefied. “I do, however, wonder how you feel, darling.” He said, now turning his attention to you.     You furrowed your brows. “Me?”     “Do you love Newt back?” Asked Theseus.     Newt’s eyes fell on you. Your mouth opened and took a breath in preparation of your answer, but it closed as soon as it happened. Your glare on Theseus sharpened.     “What are you playing at, Theseus?”     “Don’t try fighting it,” he said. “You won't be able to lie so just answer. Do you love him?”     Your eyes flickered over and connected with Newt’s, who was looking at you expectingly. Your eyes softened and the tenseness in your shoulders fell away.     “Yes,” you whispered.     Newt couldn't believe his ears. Everything happening at this moment felt surreal. Just a few minutes ago he thought he had embarrassed himself once again, having confessed his feelings to his brother’s girlfriend right in front of him. He was prepared to be punched and thrown out and for his brother to hate him for the rest of his life. But instead of being angry, Theseus was encouraging him. He encouraged you and finally, he got to hear you say words he’d only dreamt of you saying. You loved him. Oddly enough, despite how it came about, Newt couldn't be happier.     “Kiss her.”     Newt was pulled from his thoughts and his shared gaze with you. You both turned and looked at Theseus who sat cooly in the armchair.     “Didn’t you hear what she said?” He asked. “She loves you! Stop standing there like an idiot and kiss her!”     “Theseus—” you began to speak, but Theseus stopped you.     “It’s okay, love,” he assured you with his gentlest voice. “Let him kiss you.”     The energy in the room for the second time that night, all because of Theseus, who ironically was the calmest person in the room. But there was something about the aura permeating from him that domineered over everyone else. His gaze burned into them as he stared, waiting for Newt to do as he commanded.     Every part of him wanted to turn around and walk out the front door and never speak of this again. He would go home and lay in his bed and do his best to fall asleep and forget everything that happened here tonight. Every part except the one that wanted to turn to his side, take you in his arms, and kiss you the way he should have that night. It was that part of him that won over all his better judgments.    In an instant, Newt’s lips were on yours. He held your face in his hands and pressed his body flat against yours. You were taken aback. You’d even yelped when his lips first touched yours. It was a while before your body finally relaxed and you closed your eyes, leaning into the kiss. Your lips began to move with his and he felt your hands lightly grip the sides of his waist, still unsure.     Theseus leaned back in his chair and said nothing as he watched. Newt’s tongue darted from between his lips and licked a stripe over your own. Your mouth opened for him willingly and he wasted no time exploring your mouth. He moaned at the taste of you. The feeling of your tongue swirling around his made his cock twitch in his pants. You could feel it against your thigh and your breath hitched in your throat.     “Don’t stop,” ordered Theseus with his hand over his pants, palming at the growing hardness straining against the fabric.    Newt kept his mouth on yours, only moving his grip around your face down to your hips. Your hands fisted the fabric of his shirt and you pressed your body into him, yearning to be closer. Newt stumbled back until the backs of his legs hit the couch and he broke away from the kiss to sit down. He spread his legs outwards and pulled you down onto his lap. You straddled his waist and his hips bucked upwards, longing to connect. A soft moan fell from your lips and he swore hadn't heard a more beautiful sound. Soon lips were back on yours.     “Tell her how pretty she is, Newt,” Theseus instructed.     Newt pulled from your feverish kiss and pushed your hair from around your face. “You’re so beautiful, y/n,” he said. You looked down at him through half-lidded eyes dilated with lust. Your lips twitched into a smile as you began salaciously grinding your hips against him, feeling the bulge of his dick against your slick heat. Newt hissed and watched you from below, moving his hips along with you, admiring your form hovering above him as you pulled your sweater over your head and threw it on the floor.     “Show him just how beautiful you are, sweetheart,” Theseus commanded. His voice was low and husky. He watched the two of you closely, palming his own arousal.     It was of no concern to the two of you, however. Newt was so encompassed by you he could barely pay any mind to his brother watching across the room. Of course, there were thoughts screaming in the back of his head telling him how fucked this whole situation was, but they were nothing more than muted whispers compared to you rubbing against his cock.     Just as Theseus commanded you showed Newt how beautiful you were when you took a hand and pulled down one of the straps to your white dress and freed your arm, repeating the same to the other. Taking his hands from your waist you brought them to your chest and helped him pull your dress down around your waist, revealing your breasts.     You felt Newt’s cock jump at the sight of you. He could only stare slack-jawed as you placed his hands over your beasts and guided him in pressing them against each other in a continuous circular motion while you rubbed your clothed clit against him. Your soft pants filled his ears as his low grunts filled yours.     “Newt...” His name fell breathlessly from your lips.     He had pumped his cock to the thought of you moaning his name many times before, but it barely held a candle to what it felt like to hear the real thing. Your name fell from his lips just as easily and he once again captured your lips in a heated kiss while he massaged your breasts.     Across the room, Theseus had his hand wrapped around his cock, slowly sliding it up and down as he watched his girlfriend shamelessly hump his little brother. You were the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. The way your hips moved against Newt could rival even the best of strippers. Your pretty moans filled his ears and he couldn’t help but reminisce about the many times he'd made those same sounds come out of you. To hear it in person is a gift. To feel your lips was a blessing. To feel your tight cunt wrapped around his cock was the best thing a man could ever feel. There is no greater present than fucking you, and Newt didn’t even realize that Theseus had just given his brother the best Christmas gift a man could ask for.     “Tell her what you’re thinking, Newt,” Theseus breathed.     Newt licked his lips. He did his best to gather his thoughts which were wall focused on you.     “Go on,” you said through shaky breaths. “Tell me.”     Newt moaned and pressed a trail of kisses on your bare shoulder and neck. “I’m thinking about how amazing you are,” he grunted out. “I’m thinking about how long I’ve wanted you and how good it feels to finally have you.”      You loved hearing Newt praise you. You loved the feeling of his hands and lips on your hot skin.  “Keep going,” you urged, moving your hands up his chest to unbutton his shirt.     “I think you’re perfect. I think that Theseus doesn't realize how lucky he is to have you,” he said boldly, piquing both your and Theseus’s interest. “You should have been mine. I would take good care of you—f-fuck!”     You had reached the top of his pants and unbuckled his belt, unbuttoning his pants and pulling out his hardened length. He wasn’t bigger than Theseus, but he certainly was thicker. Your hand slid up and down his shaft, only stopping to collect the precum leaking from his tip on your finger to put them in your mouth. He watched in awe as you licked and sucked your fingers clean.     “God, I want you,” he growled in your ear as your hand reached for his cock. “I want to be inside you. I want to feel you,” he said through labored breaths.     “Give him what he wants, love” Theseus spoke up. “Let him feel you.”      You sat up on your knees and hovered over his hips. Pulling your panties to the side with one hand you used the other to guide Newt’s member to your center. Both your breaths caught in your throats when he entered, stretching you open with his thick cock. Feeling you around him was unlike anything he could ever dream or hope. You were slick with arousal and he easily slid in and out of you, filling you up in all the right places. Your moans filled the room as Newt sucked on the supple skin of your neck. His hands and fingernails dug into your soft skin as he held you close and it felt as though the two of you were the only ones in the room.     Newt’s name sweetly slipped past your lips. Yours flittered through the air from his own. His hips rolled into yours with a precision you had no idea he was capable of. If he’d allowed it, the two of you would have lost yourselves in each other, forgetting the third presence in the room. But that wasn't going to happen.     Standing from his seat, Theses moved towards the couple and took a seat next to them on the couch, his hand still wrapped around his dick. “Does it feel good, my love?” He asked you.     “Yes,” you breathed.     “Does my little brother make you feel good? Do you love the way his cock stretches your tight little hole?”     You moaned at his dirty words, lulling your head back as Newt's lips wrapped around your nipple. “Y-yes,” you stammered, your hips rocking faster against Newts. “I love it. I love the way he feels inside me.”     “I know you do,” Theseus hummed, his breaths hastening. “You want him to make you cum don’t you, baby?”     You nodded excitedly and Theseus smirked.     “Newt, help her cum,” he said. “She likes it when you speak to her. It turns her on hearing all the dirty things you’re going to do to her.”     “Is that true?” Newt asked you once he pulled his lips from your pert nipples. “You want to hear all the things I want to do to you? Like how I’m gonna fuck your sweet cunt until you’re shaking a quivering under me? How...How I’m gonna fill you up so full with my cum you’ll end up with twins!”     He and Theseus laughed.     “See,” Theseus chuckled as he lifted the fabric of your skirt to reveal the sight of Newt’s cock pumping in and out of you. “She likes it! Look, she’s so wet your cock is soaked!”     Newt looked down and marveled at how wet you were. You took him so well and his cock disappeared inside you with ease. Newt held the skirts of your dress up so he could watch—so they could both watch.     Theseus’s hand rubbed the inside of your thigh. “Do you want me to touch you too, baby?” He asked politely.     You opened your eyes to look at your handsome boyfriend. He had long since undone his tie and unbuttoned his own shirt. His large cock was being tugged by his right hand and you nearly drooled at the sight of it, suddenly missing the feeling of having it shoved down your throat. You loved it when Theseus touched you. His hands were always precise, knowing exactly where to pinch, caress, and stroke. Like how he was rubbing your thigh right now, knowing how sensitive the skin on that area was for you. Your eyes connected and you ached seeing how dark his once baby-blue eyes had become.     “Yes,” you nodded.     Theseus wasted no time pressing his fingers on your aching clit. He rubbed your most sensitive part while his hand teased his own cock. Between his fingers and Newt’s dick plunging deep inside you, your body buzzed with pleasure. The air in the room grew hot and sticky and a symphony of soft moans, grunts, and pants melded with the sound of skin slapping against skin and the slick wetness of your dripping cunt. You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening and your eyes shut, desperately chasing that feeling.     “Are you close, darling?” Newt asked once he felt you tighten around him.     “Y-yes!”     Theseus’s fingers rubbed faster to help you get there. “Watch her, Newt,” he urged. “When she comes, it’s the most beautiful thing you’ll ever see.”     Newts darkened hazel eyes trained on you. His grip around the dress wrapped around your waist tightened and her wrapped it around his arm and held your hips steady. His hips snapped upwards, changing pace. You bounced on his cock, your moans growing louder and louder.     “Cum for me, please,” Newt begged, now reaching his own release. “Let me see it. I want to see it. Show me, my love. Show me how beautiful you are when you cum. Please show me.”     He pressed open-mouthed kisses on your chest and neck, his eyes never leaving your face. Theseus’s breaths quickened as well, his pace on his cock matching the pace of your hips rising and sinking on Newt’s member. One of your hands wrapped around the base of Newt’s neck, taking a fist full of his hair. The other grabbed Theseus’s wrist and held his hand in place over your clit. A few more pumps and several flicks was all it took for your body to seize up, tightening around Newt's cock as your whole body trembled. Your moans caught in your throat, struggling to escape. The knot inside your stomach had broke and you came harder than you ever had in your life.     Newt came not long after you, sputtering your name as he did so and holding your hips down, burying his dick deeper inside you and making sure every drop of his cum spilled inside. “F-fuck,” he choked out.     Theseus had cum too, clear, white ribbons of his seed spilled into his hand and onto his abs. He wiped up what had spilled with two fingers and held it up to your lips. You were still dizzy from your orgasm, but it didn't stop you from obediently opening your mouth to suck Theseus’s cum from his fingers. Newt watched as you did this. Your skilled tongue licked and wrapped around Theseus’s long fingers promiscuously, ensuring you cleaned up every last drop.  It was enough to get him hard and twitching inside you again.     “That’s a good girl,” praised Theseus with a smile on his lips. “Isn’t she a good girl, Newt?”     “The best,” Newt agreed.     Theseus pulled his fingers from your mouth and replaced them with his tongue by reaching up and pulling you into a deep kiss. It was slow and purposeful, as if he were trying to show off in front of Newt who had no choice but to watch uncomfortably as your tongues swirled passionately in each other’s mouths, earning your soft whimpers. Inside, he hated how much it turned him on.     As you both pulled away, you captured Theseus’s bottom lip between your teeth and playfully tugged it away before letting go. Theseus’s hand quickly flew to tightly wrap around your neck, keeping your eyes trained on him. He smirked. “Look at you, darling. Still asking for more. Aren't you tired?”     Your hand reached down to grip his cock as an answer, making him laugh. His grip around your neck tightened.     “What? Was my brother’s cock not enough for you? You need to have mine as well? Or perhaps you want us both at the same time. Is that it? You need me and my brother to fuck you senseless like the greedy little cock whore you are?”     You clenched at the thought of having both Scamander brothers filling you up at once. Newt felt it and your increasing arousal started to drip down his balls.     “I think she does,” said Newt. “Will that satisfy you, my love? If Theseus and I fucked you within an inch of your life and pumped your selfish cunt full of cum? Tell us you want it.”     You’d never seen this side of Newt. You didn't even think he was capable of saying such filthy things. He was always so sweet and temperate, being shyer than demiguise. But here he was, spurring you on with his debaucherous words. It only made you want him more.     “I want it,” you say and salaciously grind your hips into Newt, making him hiss due to how sensitive he still was.     “Beg,” Theseus demanded. “Tell us how badly you want it.”     Your cheeks burned red hot from embarrassment. Theseus smirked mischievously because he loved watching you squirm. You always begged so nicely for him with your pouty lips and round doe eyes. His little princess. He only wanted Newt to see and appreciate it too.     “Please,” you begged shamelessly. “I want to feel you both inside me. I need to feel it. I want it so bad. I want to make you both feel good.”    “You want to make us feel good?” Theseus repeated. “Such a sweet little girl you are, wanting to please us. But we all know your secret.”     Theseus turned to Newt. “Should we give her what she wants?” He asked.     Newt looked up at your pleading eyes, so sweet and innocent despite them begging for him to fuck you. How could he ever deny you?     “Yes,” he said finally. With that, Theseus picked you up with ease and carried you upstairs to the bedroom. Newt followed behind and once Theseus placed you on the bed he began fully stripping himself of his clothes. Newt followed his brother’s actions, closing the door behind him and peeling off his shirt and pants. You watched them under the candlelight, admiring the two beautiful brothers and their different bodies.     You’d seen Theseus naked a hundred times before but it never ceased to excite you. He was large in every sense of the word. He was tall and had a wide, muscular chest with strong arms and thighs to match. Newt’s body was new and different. Newt was tall as well, only a couple inches shorter than his older brother. Surprisingly, Newt was more muscular and lean. His abs were more pronounced and taut in comparison. Both brothers were freckled, the younger of the two having more of them with accompanying scars. They were beautiful. Having two gorgeous men naked in front of you made you feel nervous and self-conscious. Without realizing it, you had pulled your dress up to cover your body. But Theseus was having none of that.     He crawled over to you on the bed, moving your hands and pulling your dress back down to your waist. Newt sat on the bed as well and pulled the dress down the rest of the way, discarding it on the floor. Theseus trailed kisses up your stomach, chest, neck, and face until he reached your lips. He kissed you passionately and tenderly, reaching for your right hand to intertwine his fingers with yours while Newt peppered soft kisses up your legs and thighs. Their attempt at relaxing you and distracting you from your thoughts worked, and you melded with them both.     “Theseus...” you whispered against his lips because you knew how much he liked hearing it. He shushed you, pecking the corners of your lips.     “Just relax, darling,” he muttered. His hand left yours to grab your thigh, spreading your legs apart.     Newt’s kisses lingered on your inner thigh, nipping, sucking, and biting the sensitive flesh. You trembled under their touch, not sure what to expect next. Theseus hovered over you on your right, covering you with kisses and massaging your breasts while Newt neared dangerously close to your core.     “Such a sweet girl,” Theseus said between kisses.     “I wonder if she tastes just as sweet,” said Newt.     “She does,” Theseus confirmed. “But you’ll just have to taste for yourself.”     The sudden feeling of Newt’s warm tongue licking a licentious stripe along your heat made you gasp. He kissed and sucked on your lower lips, occasionally darting his tongue in and out of your entrance. He licked up and down your dripping cunt before finally swirling his tongue around your clit. Your hips bucked and twitched as he drew figure-eights with his tongue over your sensitive bud. Theseus held your right leg while Newt held down your left, ensuring you kept your legs open for them.    “F-fuck, Newt,” you sighed and closed your eyes, resting your head back into the fluff of the pillow.     Theseus was sucking the skin at the crook of your neck, determined to leave a mark. His hand on your thigh trailed closer and closer to your center until his skilled fingers reached your entrance under Newt's chin. He easily slid his longest digit inside and curled it upwards, instantly finding that spot he knew so well. He pumped his finger in and out, making sure to brush against your g-spot. Soon he added another finger and quickened his pace. Between Newt’s assault on your clit and Theseus’s fingers deep inside you, you were ambushed by another orgasm. White flashed behind your eyes and your hips spasmed. Newt sucked on your clit and Theseus vigorously fingered your hole as you rode out your high until you became too sensitive to touch and begged them to stop.     “No, no, no, baby,” Theseus muttered in your ear. “We can’t stop now,” he said. “We haven't ‘fucked you within an inch of your life’ yet.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. They weren't done with you yet.     Newt came up from between your legs and kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his lips. “Can you taste it?” he asked. “Your sweetness. I can’t get enough of it. I don’t think I ever will.”     Your lips chased his, wanting him to kiss you deeper. You were sandwiched between the two men, Theseus at your back, and Newt before you. You felt Theseus’s cock press flush against your ass while Newt's poked between your legs.     “Are you ready for us, darling?” Theseus asked as he nibbled at your ear.     “Yes,” you answered against Newt’s lips before he slid his tongue back down your throat.     Being as gentle as they could, the two brothers eased their cocks inside of you, introducing you to a whole new sensation. You had never been stretched out like this, with two cocks filling your holes at once. It was strange and slightly uncomfortable at first. They knew this, which is why they took their time, distracting you with their mouths and whispering sweet nothings in your ear, and ensuring you were okay.     “You’re doing so well,” they’d say.     “You feel so good.”     “You’re so wonderful, darling.”     “Are we hurting you, sweetheart?”     “Relax for us, my love.”     Theseus’s hand once again found your clit and he began lightly circling it with his fingers to give you some relief. It didn't take long for it to work and your body opened up for them with ease. They pushed deeper inside, inch by inch until they were fully sheathed in your flesh. They both whispered their own set of curses, letting out soft grunts and moans as they began slowly rocking their hips into you.     “Fuuuck,” Theseus moaned. “This ass is so fucking tight. You’re being so good for us, darling.”     “So, so good, love,” panted Newt. “You make us feel so good.”     Your high-pitched mewls and pretty sighs were like music to their ears. They completely engulfed you, body and soul. The world simply slipped away and nothing else mattered besides them, Theseus and Newt, making you feel better than you had ever felt before. You couldn't get enough of them, nor could they get enough of you. You were intoxicated by their scent, their bodies, and their moans. In your minds, you all tried to comprehend how lucky you all were to be in this moment. Nothing could be better than this. Nothing.     “This is it, isn't it?” Theseus panted in your ear. “Your secret. You’ve always wanted this. To have your holes stretched out by our cocks. Does it excite you, my darling, fucking two brothers? One just wasn't enough, was it? You had to have both. Well, now you have it. Now you’re taking our cocks like the good little girl you are, just like you wanted because we decided to give it to you. You should thank us. Go on and thank us, darling. Tell us how much you appreciate being filled up and fucked, blinded by your own pleasure.”     “T-th...Thank you,” you choked out, tears brimming your waterline. “Thank you so much! I wanted this. I always wanted this!”     “Good girl,” Newt praised, pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Such a good, good, girl for us. We’re glad to give it to you...Whatever you want, y/n. Whatever you want—a-ah!”      Newt’s thrusts got faster and sloppier, as did Theseus’s. They both worked hard to bury themselves deep inside you. It came to a point where both their cocks were brushing against your g-spot, one after the other. You felt the knot in your core again, that delicious, evanescent knot tightening, ticking like a bomb about to explode and send you to your euphoric escape.     “Oh, God!” You gasped, digging your nails into the skin of Newt’s back and Theseus’s thighs. “Don’t stop! P-please...right there! S-Shit, I love you!” You proclaimed. “Both of you. God, I love both of you so much!”     This seemed to excite them even more, something you didn't know was possible. They thrust into you faster than they ever had before, their winded breaths filling your ears.     “I love you,” Newt breathed. “So...so much...More than anything.” He kissed your lips.     “I love you too, darling,” grunted Theseus. “My sweet girl...Always.” He kissed your lips too.     In that moment the three of you bonded, body and soul. You all came at once, their bodies falling flush against you, twitching in satisfaction. For a while you just lay there as they held you and listened to the sound of their breaths while you waited for the sweet, buzzing feeling to dim. When it did, Theseus got up to fetch a towel from the bathroom, leaving you and Newt cuddled up on the bed, whispering sweetly to one another. They helped clean you up and embraced you with their warmth. You just stared at them, sharing kisses, twirling hair, giggling, holding hands, and gazing lovingly into their eyes. There wasn't much to say. You all knew. You didn’t need to say it. You could feel it in the room. You were complete.     “Do you smell something burning?” Theseus asked suddenly. You and Newt sniffed the air and your eyes widened like saucers.    “THE FUCKING TURKEY!” You gasped, and struggled your way out from between your two lovers, picking one of their shirts from off the floor to cover yourself as you ran downstairs to save what was left of your forgotten Christmas dinner.     Newt and Theseus smiled to themselves and chuckled. There was an awkward silence as they lay there alone, both unsure of what to say or do next.     “I do know how lucky I am, by the way.” Theseus was the first to speak.     “I know,” said Newt.     Theseus turned to his brother. “You can be lucky too...If you want.”     Newt blinked, not fully believing he’d heard what he thought he heard.     “She loves you,” said Theseus.     “She loves you too,” Newt reminded him.     “I know. And we both love her.”     “And we both love her.”      It was as simple as that.     “Thank you, Theseus,” said Newt.     Theseus scoffed and playfully pushed Newt’s shoulder.     “Happy Christmas, Newt.”     “Happy Christmas, Theseus.”

The Very First Night

Derek Shepherd x fem!Reader

One Shot

TW: Literally nothing. I’m taking a quick break from Evermore because I am so in love with this man I need to write some fluffy shit for him. No use of Y/N

A/N: This is based around the whole prom episode. I needed some self indulgent fluffiness. Also yes I’m ignoring both Meredith and Addisons existence in relation to Derek. Fight me.

When the chief announced that Seattle Grace Hospital would be holding a prom, you would have thought he was kidding if he didn’t look so deadly serious.

You made a point not to look at a certain man when he announced it.

Derek Shepherd has made it his ultimate goal to get you on a date with him.

Under any other circumstance, you would have said yes in a heartbeat. Hell, you would have been praying for him to ask the second you met him.

He’s smart, he’s funny, he’s a neurosurgeon for God’s sake, not to mention that he’s absolutely gorgeous.

Derek Shepherd is perfect.

He’s also your boss.

The one and only reason you aren’t leaping at the prospect of a date with him.

The label of “slutty intern sleeping with her boss to get ahead” isn’t an appealing one.

But still, the man is very convincing.

You’re doing charts when he sidles up to you, that smile you always stare at a little too long plastered on his face.

He leans against the counter your working on, watching you while you work.

And desperately try to stay professional when you look at him.

“Do you need something, Dr. Shepherd?” You use his title pointedly, a reminder of the barrier between the two of you.

He couldn’t care less.

“Just some information.” He speaks casually, shrugging as he begins to walk, and you follow him without a second thought.

He’s whittling you down, and you both know it.

“About…?” You try to force a smile off your face, but it’s no use. He’s infectious. His flirting. His smile.

Him.

You’re not somebody who fails. You’re an incredible doctor, you’re going to be an incredible surgeon. You were always considered an academic weapon, acing almost every class you’ve taken.

You don’t fail.

But when it comes to resisting Derek?

You think you’re about to.

“You got any plans for prom?” He speaks smoothly, comfortably, like he’s not a grown man asking a grown woman to the prom.

Like he’s not praying you’ll say yes.

You laugh, looking down at the ground instead of his eyes.

His beautiful eyes.

“I guess I’m coming, but no, I don’t have plans.” You place a special emphasis on plans. You both know what plans means.

A date.

Derek smiles, brushing your side gently, getting you to look back up at him, your gaze softening when you see him.

“Great, I’ll pick you up at nine.” He grins at you, looking very pleased with himself.

You go to speak, and you plan on saying no before you do. Explaining for what feels like the millionth time that nothing can happen between the two of you.

And hating every second of it.

But instead, it’s like your brain does you a favor, and speaks before you can decide what to say.

“Okay.” Your voice is a little breathy, and obviously nervous.

Shock passes over his eyes for a second before the smile on his face grows wider, reaching his eyes and making them sparkle.

Really, how the hell were you supposed to say no to that?

Your hands brush for a moment, his fingers sweeping past yours, sending your heart rate up.

He says something before walking away, but you aren’t really paying attention, more panicking at what you just got yourself into.

You’re going to prom with Derek Shepherd.

You never planned on taking this very seriously. You were just gonna throw on your dress from senior year, slip into some heels, and head back to the hospital.

But now?

Needless to say, you’ll be spending more time getting ready.

……………………………………………………………………………………

Two hours.

You left work early, and spent two damn hours getting ready for the prom.

All because of Derek Shepherd.

He’s the bane of your existence.

You can’t think around him.

You can’t think about much besides him.

When you’re with him, your happier than you’ve ever been.

Everything about him just makes you adore him more. His personality, his talent, his skills, his smile, his laugh, everything.

He might just be the love of your life.

You brush out the carefully placed curls in your hair, watching as they fall over your shoulders in waves. Your old prom dress still fits you, thank God.

The satin fabric hugs your waist, thin straps showing off your collarbone and shoulders.

A slit runs up from the bottom of the flowing skirt of the dress, stopping around the middle of your thigh.

Even you have to admit you look good.

You slip on your heels when you hear a knock at the door, and you swear you feel your heart stop.

You look at the clock by your bed.

9:00 exactly.

He really might be perfect.

Meredith peeks her head into your room, you’re living with her for the time being.

She smiles when she sees you despite how uncomfortable you look.

You haven’t been on a date in months, and you don’t think you’ve been this gussied up in years.

“You look great. I’m sure Derek’s gonna agree.” She teases you, all your friends have known you have a thing for Derek since you started your internship at Seattle Grace.

And now that you finally caved and said yes to a date with him?

You’re gonna be hearing a lot of shit about it tomorrow.

You can’t help but feel like this’ll be worth it.

“Thank you, and shut up.” Meredith laughs at your attitude, heading downstairs to her boyfriend, Finn.

You follow behind her, exhaling nervously before opening the front door to find Derek standing in front of you.

Derek, decked out in a suit and tie.

His hair is perfect, as usual.

And in his hands, a bouquet.

A bouquet of your favorite flowers.

You mentioned it once. A simple, offhand comment. You can’t even remember how it came up. But he did.

He remembered. He cared.

He’s making it really hard for you not to fall in love with him.

For a second you recognized an expression on his face you’re not sure you’ve seen before. He looked nervous. That was before his classic McDreamy smile appeared on his face when he saw you.

“Did I get it right?” He asked, handing you the flowers.

You’re blushing like a schoolgirl, honestly a bit giddy. Here you are, getting flowers, being taken to prom by the most handsome man you’ve ever seen.

You nod, taking them and stepping inside to let Derek in.

“Yeah, yeah you got it right.” You speak quieter than you usually would as you quickly place the flowers in the vase, smiling widely when you feel his eyes glued to your every move.

You turn around to find Derek watching you, a sweet smile on his face, a look in his eyes that means more than just simple attraction.

He admires you carefully, not as a painting, a still, lifeless thing meant for him to enjoy, to examine, to scrutinize.

No.

He admires you like a worshipper in church.

He adores you, and the look in his eyes might as well be a sign around his neck that reads ‘I’m in love with you.’

“You’re beautiful.” His voice is breathy when he speaks, and the words cause a vivid blush to rise on your face.

You utter your thanks shyly, stepping towards him and taking his hand when he offers it. He regains his composure quickly, slipping back into the flirty pattern you two follow.

Still, the basis of it, the reason why all of this is happening.

It’s not flirtation. Not attraction. Not even because you like each other.

It’s more than that.

It’s love.

He leads you to his car, you’ve been in it a couple times before, on the way to dinners you swore weren’t dates, nights spent with one another when you were still adamant on refusing to develop feelings for your boss.

Or, adamant on pretending not to, at least.

The car ride isn’t terribly long, but somewhere in the middle of it, your hand is on the middle console when Derek’s comes down from the wheel, landing on top of yours.

You don’t move, and he takes the opportunity to interlace your fingers, earning a smile from you that makes him wish he could freeze time and stay in this moment forever.

“Thank you, for asking me.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, and you look over at him. His eyes stay glued to the road, but you watch as the corners of his mouth lift to a smile.

“Thank you for saying yes.” He quips back, looking over to you when you stop at a red light.

You laugh for a moment before responding. “It was about damn time.”

The moonlight glistens off his face as he laughs, every detail about him making you fall for him more.

He’s mesmerizing, and you can’t bring yourself to take your gaze off of him.

You’ve got it bad.

“Yeah, it was.” Theres still laughter lingering in his voice when he speaks, and you think you could melt right then and there at the sound of it.

It’s not long after that when you arrive at the hospital. You go to open your door before Derek does so for you, going to the effort of helping you out.

“What a gentlemen.” You say teasingly, letting your hand stay clasped in his as you walk into the hospital.

“I’ve been trying to land a date with you for months, I’m not gonna screw it up now.” He smiles down at you when he speaks, scanning your face. Pieces of hair fall to frame it, and he brings his free hand up to brush them away quickly, knowing the affect it has on you when you blush and look away quickly.

You’re honestly a bit shocked when you see how put together the whole event it, decorations are everywhere, and the lobby has been turned into a dance floor.

You already see a few people you know, the ones that came here with dates are already dancing, and the ones that are alone?

Well, they’re drinking the night away.

You don’t realize where Derek is taking you, too busy looking around, until his arm slips around your waist, and his other hand is holding yours as you’re pressed flush to his chest.

Derek Shepherd just asked you to dance, without saying a word.

“May I?” He’s good at this, and he knows it.

For a brief, insecure moment, you wonder why. You wonder if the reason this is so natural for him is because you’re not the only woman he does it for.

If you’re just a phase.

A tough one to crack.

You worry that he doesn’t feel the same way as you do.

But then, you look him in the eyes, and the softest, the gentle, loving, adoration in his gaze.

Your worries vanish like fog burning away on a summer morning.

“I’m not very good at this.” You warn, smiling sheepishly up at him as he begins to sway you, a grin on his lips.

You’re closer than you’ve ever been. Your free arm is thrown around his neck lazily, and you could melt into his embrace.

He leans down, whispering in your ear, his minty breath fanning over your neck. “I don’t mind.”

You smile when you hear him, laughing sweetly when he continues to dance with you. There’s a few people watching. You and Derek have become a topic of conversation around the hospital ever since he started pursuing you so strongly.

So, pretty much since your first day.

Neither of you seem to mind, to engrossed in each other to care. He hasn’t stopped looking at you this whole night. You’re always stunning, he usually can’t keep his eyes off you when you’re just in your scrubs.

But tonight?

You look like an angel came down to earth.

Derek lifts your arm above your head quickly and spins you, smiling brightly when the sound of your bubbly laughter reaches his ears.

It’s the best thing he’s ever heard.

When he pulls you back in your pressed close to him, touching his chest with yours, staring up into his cerulean eyes. Your breathe mingles as he looks down to you, his gaze flickering to your lips as he does.

Everything else feels like it just disappears. The only thing that matters, the only thing in your world, is the man standing in front of you.

You curse yourself for waiting so long. For always being so damn good. For not letting yourself have this sooner.

Have him sooner.

Every single time he asked you out, you wanted to say yes. But you didn’t, you were too focused on everything you shouldn’t have been.

Colleagues.

Expectations.

Assumptions.

Everything but him.

And now?

You’re done.

So when he leans forward, when his lips brush yours. You close your eyes and let him kiss you, and it makes your knees weak. It rips the air out of your lungs.

It flips your world upside down.

You could have repeated this moment forever and been happy.

You move against him, kissing back, running your hands through his hair. His hands slip further down your waist, coming to rest on the small of your back.

Your forced to pull away as you begin to run out of air, gasping a bit as you do. You press your forehead to Derek’s, smiling widely.

He pulls you in closer, and you bring your head to rest in the crook of his neck, and he sways you back and forth, abandoning any efforts of actually trying to dance.

“You got me.” You whisper, and you feel laughter rumbling in his chest when he hears you.

After all this time, all of the asking, all the flirting, everything.

You let go.

Let go of your worries.

And grabbed on to him.

And you are never, ever, letting go.

A/N: Soooo this is short and kinda cheesy ngl, but I hope y’all liked it.

- di <3

Behold! My Sun!Lunar Au! + doodles Aka, this takes place in the Good Eclipse dimension. Well, A dimension since he’d never have met our shows Lunar here. Anyway, Eclipse tries to fix Sun by using a backup body to copy his code in, and then Eclipse add back in his OWN code as well, maybe it could reverse the process. (He does this in a back up because like if it don’t work, his Sun will still technically be okay.) Now they have a new brother! Eclipse is devastated. They name him Lunar. Anyway, a little more explanation to it-

So, in this AU he comes up with an idea of fixing Sun. By using Sun’s base code and putting his own code back into it (since Eclipse was pulled from Sun thus causing Sun’s comatose state), although this is more of a theory Eclipse is going on and doesn’t want to risk Sun any further, so he makes a back up body to test this out. New Moon basically does doubt the workings of this, but otherwise if it does work they can also fix him as well and helps when he can. However, it turns out this just makes a whole new Person. Something they weren’t actually counting on. At worst it just wouldn’t work and they’d try something else, scrapping the code project. Lunar comes to be, Eclipse isn’t very happy about the outcome. Although more for the fact he failed at trying to find a way to fix Sun and Moon. He’s not unhappy about Lunar existing just... disappointed it wasn’t Sun. But luckily, Lunar is here to help. So Eclipse reluctantly puts him in charge of daycare duties (a good idea considering New Moon’s glitching and functionality very... sporadic at best, Nice Eclipse being shown in the most recent episode literally having to make sure he stays put.) Now, since this was essentially just some back up body, Lunar’s not painted at first, basically like just some metallic base. He’s grey. Eclipse fitted him with a new battery, cause not obvious in the comic but without those wires he would not be running. Lunar does pick up that somethings wrong with Moon, not too long after their meeting actually. Eclipse had reason to be worried in the comic cause literally if it went any other way... Although it’s fine for now and Lunar learns to just let Eclipse handle Moon (although he finds it sad and unhealthy). Although, you will wonder about Lunar’s questions about being made, considering many factors here. Not fully painted, no battery, odd behaviour of BOTH Eclipse and Moon, Eclipse’s literal first words to Lunar. “It’s nice to see you again” has an... implication to it he questions about. The damn advertisements. The boy is gonna be confused, overwhelmed and very much mistakened as someone else for a good while. There’s likely more i could type but i’ll get to that later. However Sun!Lunar actively does get painted and an outfit later! However right now it’s just three bro’s trying to figure out the new circumstance. Identity issues galore! also some traditional doodles i had when i was first thinking it out. not shown was a previous version of what Lunar would look like later (I decided he’ll keep his rays, he still gets a hat tho!)

Just read a comment under a magireco Madoka's magical girl sequence that said "now Madoka is a badass" and I was like HUH

Like did some of you watched episode 12 blindfolded and with ear plugs? Because I don't think you guys truly grasp the scope of what Madoka did that episode: The Incubator has been on earth for a MILLENNIUM, meaning that has been thousand of girls before Madoka who have tried to outsmart his system and met a terrible fate for their attempts, but only Madoka has been able to beat him, do you guys understand that? The smartest and strongest girls have tried, but something always thwarted their plans—be it their potential not being that high or Kyuubey twisting their words so it would be in his favor instead—But Madoka had something they didn't and it was her circumstances (Homura and the timeloops), Madoka knew her wish would come at a great sacrifice, but just like Homura said in Rebellion "She rose to the occasion" because she knew it was something only she could do; No one would ever have the perfect circumstances to make that wish like Madoka. So, she did it.

When Madoka made her wish and Kyuubey hesitated for the first time in the series because he understood the implication of it, Madoka said to him: "Now, grant my wish, Incubator." When Kriemhild Gretchen was born and Kyuubey thought he had the advantage back again because this witch could literally swallow a planet and Madoka killed her with one shot. Madoka won, essentially. Like her system isn't perfect, Kyuubey isn't dead, and there's still suffering, but it was the best wish for the magical girl kind as a whole, and all improvements are only possible by what Madoka did here. She played within the Incubator's system and rewrote it. She is the most powerful character in the whole franchise and arguably one of the most powerful characters in anime. "But didn't Homucifer defeated Madokami?" Well, sort of. Homura's win is, ironically, also due to extreme circumstances, only Homura could've done that and only within this one scenario: and even when she won it's heavily implied that if Madoka even has a slightly moment of deja vu it's over for her, she can't win against Madoka on fair terms so even Homura herself can't achieve that feat again. That's just how powerful Madoka is.

Do you guys understand that?

And here's the thing: my problem with that statement isn't even that I don't think magireco Madoka isn't as cool as Madokami, I think she's badass too. Is just like, I thought we all thought Madoka was cool as herself?? Like even without being a magical girl or a fucking godess, Madoka was cool as shit. When Madoka risked her own life to save the lives of her friends and strangers at the warehouse? She had no powers, no backup, and had just watched Mami die to a witch and yet she still followed Hitomi. But people only want to see Madoka's character as what the witch showed her afterwards, her own survivors guilt and perceived weakness and cowardice over wanting to live and not be a magical girl despite what she promised Mami, and yet the scene prior to this conflicts with this idea. Madoka not only can risk her life for others and save them when the need arises, but she already has. Even without being a magical girl. It's just who she is. This, to me, is one Madoka Magica's core strenght as a show that Madoka spent the majority of it being the most "powerless" in almost every scenario and yet she still tried her best to overcome things, even when it didn't work It was never worthless, if anything it proved her own strenght of character and without it she would've never gotten as powerful how she is today.

If Madoka hadn't been kind to Homura on her first day of school, if she hadn't done the simple act of reaching out to someone she thought was kind shy, none of this would've have happened. Her kindness did this, not any other power.

My favorite thing about Madoka's character arc is that Madoka starts as a very naive opmitimisc girl and with a somewhat sheltered view of of the world, then she goes throught horrors few can understand and while she could (understably) become bitter with the world and grow to despise it, Madoka comes of it realizing...she was right. Madoka has felt the pain the world could give her in her own skin, has literally died, and she now thinks Hope is needed more than ever. And it saddens me a lot when people don't understand how strong and cool she is because of that, to be hurt and choose to be kinder and more understanding to yourself and the world in return, because the world can be better we just can't give up...

Basically what I'm saying with this that if you don't like Kaname Madoka, fuck you—

ok i know that the line “i don’t want you to change, i want you to always be you” is widely beloved and appreciated As It Should Be, but i also just think like. that is quite literally the best thing anyone but especially arthur could’ve said to merlin. like i just think it was so special and important because its such a reassurance. im pretty sure under any other circumstance it would’ve even been euphoric to hear.

bc like. it comes after Years of merlin genuinely believing, and telling gaius “arthur will never really know me because he won’t ever know about my magic.” living with the lonely belief that his best friend would never actually know him. arthur says it right after days of “i would know” and “i thought i knew you” and “im still the same person.” right after “you’ve been lying to me all this time” and “so that was another lie.” it comes even though arthur isn’t even Close to understanding Just How Much merlin has done for him and sacrificed and just how much he’s capable of.

but he says it anyway!! hes like i may not even know half the shit thats been going on in your life but i Have known You. i wasnt wrong. i Do know you. you Are the same person with or without the knowledge of your magic. you have been known by me even if your magic hasn’t. and THATS. LIKE. i mean it makes sense when you think about it because all the trust and admiration that arthur had for merlin (“you’re the only friend i have and i couldn’t bear to lose you” and “i think you, merlin, are the only person i can trust” and ESPECIALLY “i always thought you were the bravest person id ever met”) was for a merlin who arthur didnt know had magic. so yeah it makes sense to arthur but like. IT COULDVE BEEN LIFE ALTERING for merlin.

all those years believing one of the most important people in his life wouldn’t understand him or know him because of this One Thing he couldn’t tell him about. all that worth and identity he put into people Knowing about his magic meaning they Know him and the isolation that mustve caused because No One Could Know. and now someones finally looking him in the eye like!!! look!!! you always been one of the best people ive ever known!!!! and thats not because i know about your magic!!!

idk. i just think it was like. the best thing arthur couldve said to him bye

I totally get your point on how the adults should have prevented Eri from cutting her horn off, but on the other hand if Eri was prevented and Izuku never healed, how would she feel? Not to mention this is an emergency situation and Izuku is their most important player in this game. If Izuku stayed in that condition we don't know what would happen. Still wrong either way, but for this particular situation there are more people's lives on the line because it is technically the endgame.

There are others ways to keep him alive. When Mirko got her limbs cut off, BJ tied it up with a rope and she kept fighting - because she was another disposable character needed to tear herself into pieces for another male character.

Deku didn't need to lose his arms - Hori wrote that for shock value and painting a disturbed, traumatized child clearly suffering from survivor guilt to potentially sacrifice her quirk (an integral part of who she is) for him as "heroic", while grown ass men stand around or give up sweaty T-shirts is wrong.

Deku did not compromise on his resolve to save Tomura even though the entire world was at stake and killing him wasn't even discussed as an option, but a 6-year old being mutilated by an adult - as long as it's for Deku - is ok for you.

It just shows btw how much Eri is nothing but a literal plot device in this story nobody really cares about.

Everyone has their lines. I personally cannot think of any circumstance where a 6-year old should have to sacrifice an integral part of herself for a choice made by someone else. It was Deku's choice to throw any caution to the wind to save Tenko (where he rejected other villains just fine) and I don't think it's right that someone who he's supposedly protecting should need to cut herself to pieces to bail him out.

I get the themes, I get the point Hori is trying to make, but I think it's wrong and indefensible to make a 6-year old do this to herself. And I'd like to think that the real Deku wouldn't be ok with this either.

Her wanting to become a singer at the age of 6 is a ridiculous excuse. People who met real-world children know that their future profession is rarely decided before they even start primary school. Eri on top of it is a traumatized child who was kept in captivity for years and because of that she's even more vulnerable and should be protected.

If I sound angry, it's because I am and I find this fandom's moral selectiveness rather upsetting.

So, first of all, I love your blog. I literally love the way you deal with Yandere and Avatar!!!!-

Secondly, I don't know if it counts as a request or something, but I got to thinking a bit about Navi culture and all that.

I know that Jake and Neytiri had no problem adopting Kiri, as both adults had a special, deep connection and relationship with Grace, but I don't know how the Navi in general handle orphaning and adoption issues, as my native tribal references have an unreliable handle on orphaning (between various anthropologists they tend to contradict each other and circumstances can generate a different communal and individual response in each case).

So… going on to the Yandere and all that.

Do you think the Yandere Sully (any of them) or Yandere Navi in general (any of your choice) would react to their love interest's previous baby?

Kind of like their SO was already pregnant before they met them or they already have relatively grown children, like Tuk's age?

First of all, thank you <3 Secondly, I have tried to make this and I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: this won’t be seen from the Na’vi culture pov since I too lazy to look it up, I’ll just imagine what I think of it.

Content: firstly, any yandere Na’vi and then we have yandere Jake, yandere Neytiri, yandere aged up! Neteyam, yandere! Aged up! Lo’ak and Yandere! Aged up! Kiri + bonus! Yandere! Tsu’tey

Warnings: breeding, s/o is a person capable of getting pregnant

Headcanons of yandere Na’vi, Jake, Neytiri, Neteyam, Lo’ak, Kiri and Tsu’tey with an s/o who has a kid from another relationship.

First, any Na’vi

Probably not too fond of the idea. But will comply if it makes you happy.

Will never see that child as theirs and sometimes it is pretty clear even though they try to hide it.

If you are widowed, they’ll try to accept that the child will always be there. Might as well make one of his own.

If you are just separated from your previous mate, the Na’vi will send your child with your mate for long periods of time. As long as he can hold it. And in those periods of time will do whatever it takes to keep you so occupied you don’t remember you have a child. Also will try to get you pregnant, so by the time your child from other mate comes back, you won’t be able to take care of it.

Pretends to protect your child during hunts and stuff, but to be honest, they wouldn’t mind if something happened, you are not in love with anyone but them, why should another person’s spawn be there with you?

Probably baby traps you even though is pretty clear you aren’t leaving. But it is also that they are really proud on having you with a baby of their own.

If it happens, that you get pregnant, the Na’vi will have favoritism for their child, obviously.

Jake Sully

He is a manipulative yandere, as I said before. He might take many different approaches to this situation.

He could act like the father of the year and have you happy and unknowing as he treats the child with such love and care as it was one of his own. Even though, he is disgusted with the idea. That child is the living proof you your bond with other person. He will never be as overprotective as he is with one of his own, he will be tougher.

Another approach is acting all nice and sweet in front of you and then just covering the child’s basic needs. Kind of a Spider situation going on. He lets the kid be and in front of you is sweet but then he just treats the kid as the stray cat you feed once a week. Never treated wrongly but never actually part of the family. He would never mistreat the child in any physical or mental way, he might be a yandere but he ain’t no monster.

The last but not least approach, make you despise your child. This only works if you have separated from your previous mate. If you are widowed he wouldn’t do such a thing, specially since it was specified that the child is around Tuk’s age and that is pretty young.

If you separated from your previous mate, he would send the child away and then would poison your mind. Slowly but surely manipulating you into hating (or something close) your own spawn. Reminding you of the person you were previously with and painting it as a bad thing.

Also the type to give you a baby, like get you pregnant and stuff, so that your attention will go to the baby and him and not your other child. Even though you will try to keep up, he will do anything as to make your other child isolated.

Not very good in any approach if you ask me.

Neytiri

Not fond of the idea then, not fond of the idea now. Literally despises the kid from minute 0.

Might as well accept it if she knows you are going to stay longer if nothing happens.

Never and I mean never treats the child as one of her own, she accepts the fact that the kid is there and that’s it.

She might want for either of you to get pregnant to “bigger” the family. She is just telling a lie. She knows how much work a baby gives and that will give her time to go away from that demonic spawn of your last relationship.

If you are widowed, she might feel sad for the kid, but she still dislikes it, seeing how similar it is to you but so different at the same time.

If you separated from your previous mate (and they have been lucky enough not to be killed by Neytiri), the kid will ALWAYS end up on their place. Neytiri might even blackmail or threat your last partner just to make them stay with the child.

Neteyam

He is a sweetheart, even as a yandere. He will in fact treat the child as one of his own. He feels pity for the kid.

He knows how you are and he will act in consequence. If he treats the child just like one of his own, you will love him forever right?

Also, if you are widowed he will actually feel pity for the child.

If you have separated from your previous mate, he will always try to look better than them in your child’s eyes.

OBVIOUSLY, the type of step-dad who tries to make the child call him dad. Now he is with you, he is the dad. Even if the child is not his, it is yours and it makes him his.

Will have your child and you up in a pedestal and he will pamper, spoil and do anything for you guys.

Probably the type to develop yandere platonic feelings for the kid once they have been interacting. He sees the kid as a little portion of you so he must protect it.

Lo’ak

Ngl, he will try to breed you to make you forget about the other one.

Pretends to care for it, knowing it keeps you calm. But in reality, why would he care about the only reminder that you hadn’t been his first. That reminder that there is a piece of you mixed with someone else’s before he was able to breed you.

Pretty irresponsible with the kid, same with the Jake scenario.

Probably treats it as a stray cat that is there.

If he has a child of his own with you, he wont treat the equally.

Kiri

Just as Neteyam, will treat the kid as one of her own.

Probably a caring mother, posible Tsa’hìk.

Never mistreats the child in any way. She knows that it will be better for your relationship if you both are the child’s parental figures.

Teaches the kid things about Pandora.

As she is so close to Eywa, she knows the child isn’t hers biologically but it her mind, it is hers.

Tsu’tey

Only two ways around.

He will make you choose between the kid and him, but with the small twist that he is a yandere and that there isn’t actually a choice.

Or he will pretend to be a good father for your kid and will try to get you pregnant as soon as he can to breed one spawn of his own.

He needs constant reassurance and lets you know about it. That way he can guilt trip you into caring about him more.

Will always try to be better than your past mate, he will always find ways to outrun them. Talks bad about your past partner to the child. If he has to deal with this, the kid will workship him.

Taglist: @maxinej

To Live, To Love

For @trippygalaxy and their Linksona Shifter. Ive fluffified the boy. >:)

Take care of yourself goddamnit. KNOW YOU ARE LOVED!!!

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

You’ve known since his journey had ‘concluded’ that Link was troubled. Not that the word even fully fits the capacity of what he must be feeling. The very goddess who made him into a hero, too young to bear his burdens, never let him know rest. Wherever there was trouble upon her lands, it was Link she sent to resolve it. By any means necessary. Now, no longer a child, your Link was as one could expect from someone of his circumstance. There was no longer a bright eyed wonder to see the world, for he’d already seen everything it had to offer him— the scraps of what others didn’t care to take. He carried each responsibility behind a literal and figurative mask of neutrality. He was strong, though it didn’t need saying and where there was any weakness, there was bite. Where he could not defend by blade was defended by sharp words and sharper stares. But behind that mask of control over himself and the world, there was a man. Not the Hero of Time, or whatever may have you. Behind the whittled wood he’s come to be known by, there was Link. Your Link. Link, who’d stumble into your home without an ounce of strength or power left in him. Link, whose wounds you'd tend to as he stubbornly insists he’s ok. Link, who would only begrudgingly accept the food and clothes you gave him, stabbed in the back one too many times to ever let himself be cared for. Link, who, after enough time to air out from the stress he was put under, would settle next to you in bed only to leave the next morning- Hylia calling him away. While you had him, He’d curl up, occasionally letting his head rest upon your chest. It was relieving to know that in a world where he was expected to be no short of perfect, he could crumple into your arms. You married him not for that man he showed to the world, but for these moments of fragility. You spent a while getting the tangles and knots out of his hair, neglect of travel making the task take longer, but it’s not as if you mind. You hardly noticed the shiver in Link’s body, the tremor of his breath, the flinch of his eyes. It wasn’t until he bolted upright, gasping beneath the mask that you realised what was wrong. Panic attacks were all except expected given everything he’d been through, and yet as he strained to breathe, a panicked eye met yours. You’d seen that state before, like an animal caught in the maw of a trap. Much the same way with him, both were caught by iron. Where the animals were caught by metal teeth, your love was caught by the buckle of the mask he wore. But it didn’t stop you from shuffling closer slowly, gauging his reaction. You took both of his hands in yours, kissing the knuckles.

“My love” He didn’t settle, his eyes darting around the dark of the room, his eyes caught on the full moon’s illumination through the shutter.

“Link” Your words were hardly even more than a whisper, catching him immediately.

“Focus on me alright? Nothing else matters right now” His Adam's apple bobs and he nods. The movement is stiff, hardly even there.

“Good. Take some deep breaths, feel my hands on yours.” He follows as you say until each inhale is less intense than the last.

“Well done.” You feel your own appreciation rise as one hand cups the side of his wooden mask.

“May I?” One eye looks back into yours, an emotion you can’t read because of the mask. I’m cutting himself off from the world, he may have cut you out too. But it wasn’t unfixable, especially because your relationship wasn’t ever as far as broken. One hand wrapped all the way around your wrist, firm and steady.

“I don’t think you want to” His voice just sounds worn and tired, any warning he meant to add to his words was lost.

“Why is that, my Dear?” You let your hand sink back, not wishing to pressure him. You hope the action will show him more curiosity rather than he owes you an answer.

“I-“ His eyes dart away and back to you, “I fear I am not the man you fell in love with anymore. That you will see me for what I am and not bear to see me anymore” There’s a tangible shake in his voice, a waver in his strength.

“Nonsense” You say, and he feels the blood rush to his very fingertips as you look at him like he’s worth something. A shaky scarred hand reaches up to lift the wood mask off his face. There’s a split in his skin -a scar, rather- that runs from his eyebrow down to his chin. It took everything in its wake, his right eye and exposed some of his teeth. There’s a few other marks, burns and the like. But despite the fact there’s less of Link than when you saw him last, you can’t help but feel like this is the most you’ve seen of him. He looks at you with the hope to be loved, that you’ll still accept him for what he is and not what he must pretend to be. You press a long kiss to his forehead before resting yours against his. His hands are hesitant to find their way around your hips.

“I love you” You sounded lovesick, your heart decided on him and no other. His mouth opened as if he tried to speak some form of protest, but he couldn’t argue through a kiss. The split in his lip was new, but nothing than couldn’t be adapted to, no part of him you couldn’t love. After a long while, you parted, gasping for air— albeit for a different reason this time around.

“How I’ve missed you, my beloved” He took you back in his arms, curling around you entirely. He was there the next morning when he woke up, and for many more after.

Would you ever so kindly write 10.Kaku + O. Kabedon? Have it so bad for this giraffe man <3 uhh,, he's so old fashioned and precious. Looks like a cinnamon roll, could kill you vibes, for real

Let Me Prove Myself

Pairing: Kaku x reader

Content: kaku is just a little suspicious, and a little intimidating kind of? but in a hot way. kaku calls the reader pretty and lovely, gender nuetral pronouns for reader, strawhat reader, kabedon ofc!

Word Count: 1k

A/N: quite literally wrote this between 4 and 5 am, so i apologize for anything that doesn’t make sense or sounds off😓but anyway i am such a kaku lover omg that’s literally my man (one of them), ty for the request <3

Some of your crew mates went to find someone who could fix your ship, the Going Merry, while others were off exploring the city. You had opted to venture off on your own, wanting to enjoy the scenery and culture of this grand island with fewer distractions that usual.

Navigating through the streets with no destination in mind, you end up in a sort of alleyway. It leads you out closer to the shoreline, and provides you with a picturesque view of some of the lower levels of the city accompanied by slow rolling ocean waves.

“So pretty,” you mumble to nobody in particular.

“Sure is.”

Your head nearly whips around to find the source of the voice. Were you being followed this entire time? Though you’d been under the impression that the people of Water 7 took kindly to most pirates, that didn’t mean there weren’t other sinister forces within the city… Perhaps should’ve been more careful, or stayed on the boat with Zoro.

Alas, you don’t see anyone in the direction from which you came, so you turn back slowly. Maybe you were imagining things.

You gasp and step back when you’re met face to face with a man who definitely hadn’t been there before. He’s tall, and has an unusually long and squarish nose. “It fits him, though.” you think. In fact, he’s a really attractive guy. But you can’t allow that to overpower your common sense, nor let your guard down. You make a mental note to not, under any circumstances, let your attraction get the better of you.

He takes your silence as an opportunity to explain himself. “I don’t mean to frighten you,” he steps closer as you take another step back, “you're not from around here, are you?”

“No… I’m not.” You raise your chin and cross your arms over your chest. “Were you following me?”

He laughs. “Well, when you put it like that it makes me sound like a bad guy.”

“Well I wouldn’t know what kind of guy you are, stranger.” Go

“Kaku,” he extends his hand, “and what’s your name if you don’t mind my asking?”

Ever so cautiously, you take his hand and shake it once. “Y/n.”

“Y/n. That’s lovely.”

“Um… thanks.”

Taking notice of your squared shoulders and general uncomfortable energy, Kaku takes another step toward you. Naturally you take another step backward, but you don’t realize you’re standing right in front of one of the walls of the alleyway you’d come out of until it hits your back. You inhale sharply.

“I have no ill intentions, y/n, I can assure you. I just…” he looks you up and down, not trying to hide his wandering eyes in the slightest. “Well, I’d never seen you around before and found myself eager to meet you. You’re awful pretty, y’know.”

The feeling seems to be mutual, but you intend to bury your own even deeper. “I- um-“

“So, are you by chance a pirate?”

Your eyes grow wider and you silently shake your head “no.”

Kaku chuckles and nonchalantly places a hand on the wall behind you. The other goes to his hip as he leans over you. You’re unsure if he’s trying to block off one of your two escape routes to either side, or is this is his attempt at charming you. “You don’t have to lie, y/n, I’m no bounty hunter. Nor a pirate hunter like your crew mate, Zoro.”

“You know Zoro?”

“Sure do. I inspected you all’s ship just a few minutes ago while he was there keeping watch. He was wary of me at first, and rightfully so considering we’d never met, but he seems like a swell guy.”

A relieved exhale visibly leaves your chest as your shoulders drop slightly. The fact that he knows one of your crew, and hasn’t talked ill of him, brings you some comfort.

“But that’s not important right now. I’m here to talk about you.”

“What about me?”

“Whatever you’re willing to tell me. I want to get to know you. I’m very interested, if I’m not making it obvious enough.”

You nearly giggle, but contain your laughter behind a smile. “No, you are.”

Feeling emboldened by your shy smile, Kaku removed his other hand from his hip and places it on the wall behind you. You glance to your side at it, and he walks forward into the half step that remains between your two bodies, bending his arms so that his forearms are entirely against the wall instead of his hands alone. Kabedon.

And when you turn forward again, you’re barely an inch away from his face. Or his nose, rather.

He speaks softly, but in the same old fashioned and all too-proper tone. “Have you ever been with a shipwright, y/n?”

You shake your head “no” again.

“Would you like to be?”

“Oh, well… my- my crew is probably only going to be here a few days, so…”

“Ah… so if the circumstances were different?”

“I might say yes.”

“Mhm… You see, I don’t mind these circumstances one bit. Are they a deal breaker for you?”

“I guess not.” You bite your lip with nervous excitement.

“Good.” He flashes you a bright smile and steps back a respectable distance.

Though you don’t mean to, your disappointment shows in your features.

Kaku notices- he seems to notice a lot about you- and chuckles. “Were you expecting something more just then?”

Truthfully, you were. If he had kissed you, you would have welcomed it with open arms (and lips.) You don’t say any of that though, just laugh awkwardly as your face heats up.

“I’m a gentleman, y/n. It’d be sleazy to try anything with you when we’ve only just met.”

“Oh,” you nod, finding his constitution respectable despite wishing he had been sleazy enough to try something, “right…”

“How about you let me take you out to an early dinner? I’d like to prove myself first.”

“What do you need to prove yourself to be worthy of?”

“You.”

You smile as Kaku offers you his arm, and your initial resolution to not let your guard down around him is almost entirely forgotten as you take it.