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httpdollie · 6 months

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OBSESSIVE FANBOY! CHOSO KAMO X FEM! READER HCS

warning: yandere themes, stalking, dub-con, coercion, breeding, whiny perv!choso, dancer! choso, manipulation, somno, dark content (i’m not responsible for the content you consume)

request are closed for one piece

blank blogs and minors will get blocked ( i check)

Fanboy! Choso who makes kpop choreo and kpop reaction videos on youtube and has a huge fanbase of his own

Fanboy! Choso who found out about you on kpop stan twitter after your group debuted and blew up after your b-side music video was released

Fanboy! Choso quickly fell in love with your beauty and talent as the center and lead vocalist in your group

Fanboy! Choso who loves how contrasting his grunge aesthetic is compared to the soft colours your wore all the time

Fanboy! Choso who’s very openly obsessed with you, to the point where it annoys his brothers sometimes

Fanboy! Choso who has to hide the fact he’s a solo stan on his youtube but watches fancams and edits of you all the time

Fanboy! Choso who’s dedicated and shows up to every single one of your concerts even if it’s not in his country, when he’s been questioned by a fan once he claimed it cause he was interested in making choreo for the group

Fanboy! Choso who’s has a anon account that has over 16.K followers on kpop twitter for having an insane photo card collection and posting selcas and edited fancams and simply being a fan that knows an intense amount about you (but no one cares cause he also posts hand pics)

Fanboy! Choso who forces his brothers so listen to your group and pick a bias and secretly got annoyed when yuji said he also biases you.

Fanboy! Choso who has fans that feed into the delusion that the two of you are soulmates and make fan edits and fanfiction of you guys ( he reads and watches them religiously)

Fanboy Choso who has every version of lightstick you have, his obsession is so bad he had to make new bookshelves to hold all his stuff (seasons greetings packs , postcards, framed pictures, signed shirts, albums and cd’s)

Fanboy! Choso who accidentally made his way into the toxic side of your fandom and made friends with other stan’s and would highkey be a toxic fan and dox anti’s

Fanboy! Choso who goes crazy when you get asked what your type is said your type was alt guys and dark hair, he immediately tweeted how “y/n literally made that comment about me guys!” not realizing his was on his main account…

Fanboy! Choso who almost died when he realized your group member account liked his tweet

Fanboy! Choso who religiously watches variety show and interviews with you because he adores your voice, mannerisms and personality

Fanboy! Choso who stalks your instagram account daily and rewatches your stories and scrolls through your posts

Fanboy! Choso who loses his shit when your manager reached out to him to make choreo for the title track of your first full album, he plays his cards safe and makes a very cute yet alluring

Fanboy! Choso who’s swears luck is on his side when he sees you moving into an apartment complex after working with you, he spotted with a security moving boxes into a lobby and truly started questioning of god existed

Fanboy! Choso who just happened to move to the apartment complex across from yours, acting surprised when you finally bump into each other, he felt like he was insane for doing it but felt so relieved after he saw how you smiled at him; makes him feel like anything is worth it if it’s for you

Fanboy! Choso almost had a heart attack when you dropped by to give him a welcome to the apartment complex by giving him a cake, and coffee mentioning how you’ve seen a couple of his videos and knows what he likes (he thought his cover was blown and almost started crying and apologizing on the spot until you said you want him to help you with choreo)

Fanboy! Choso who has a album on his phone dedicated to you of videos he took while training without you knowing, specifically pics he took and refuses to show to anyone, including his brother

Fanboy! Choso remembers when his ex said he was very hardworking and how she admired it, and hopes he’s good enough for you

Fanboy! Choso who feels so guilty everytime you post, he can’t help but get a hard on

Fanboy Choso who makes choreo for your group for the second time and feels so guilty about making it more sexual than normal but says it’s for a new “sugar and spice” concept for your comeback

Fanboy! Choso who acts so innocent when he grabs your ass or your tits telling you how he didn’t mean to

Fanboy! Choso who’s guilt immediately washed away when he sees you performing such a sexual dance in frilly form fitting dresses, miniskirts and thigh highs all done up like a doll, he felt zero shame in recording

Fanboy! Choso who made cum tributes to your normal pictures

Fanboy! Choso who dyes the a skunk stripe the same colour as yours every comeback (even if you’re wearing a wig or not) as a way of remind him of you

Fanboy! Choso who buys the perfume you wear, spraying it on dirty clothes of yours he stole to smell while he jerks off to panty shots he took, the second he cums he feels so guilty

Fanboy! Choso who sneaks into your room and jerks off to your pretty face and body while you sleep with your panties wrapped around his cock

Fanboy! Choso who can’t help but feel you up, kissing your neck gently, telling you how pretty you look and how talented and beautiful you are whenever you train together

Fanboy! Choso who tampers with your birth control til it’s ineffective so you go off it not knowing why it stopped working

Fanboy! Choso who loses control after you train in a pink miniskirt and white cami with no bra

Fanboy! Chose who loves using you in your sleep, leaving you nice, full and confused for the morning

Fanboy! Choso who can’t stop apologizing while he has you pressed against the couch, hands pinned together with one of his while the other rubs and caresses your tits and tights oh so gently, kissing your neck softly muttering about how sorry he is when he pressed his bulge against your cunt. whimpering about how warm and pretty you are and how good he wants to make ou feel.

“Oh fuck bunny, you’re so tight.” He groaned loudly, watching your eyes shut tight as he pounded you into your couch. “I’m sorry baby, I couldn’t hold back anymore- you look so good in this skirt, and your tits were practically falling out of your shirt like a slut… Ah fuck!” He said, unapologetically. Continuing to slam his thick cock deeper and deeper into you.

You felt your legs tingle as he has them pressed next to your ears, leaning forward pressing a sloppy kiss along your jawline peppering your cheek before kissing your lips, oh so passionately. His eagerness and desire for you practically had you dripping for him when he first lifted your miniskirt.

He picked up the pace, chasing closer and closer to his climax, whimpering and moaning into your mouth. You felt his tip kiss against your cervix, making your toes curl as he reached deep inside your puffy pussy. “I’m gonna cum bunny, fuck! I’m gonna fill this tight little pussy!” He moaned against your lips. feeling you squirm under him squeaking about not being on birth control. Your pushy clenching around him while you panicked, making his heavy dick twitch inside you.

“Choso! Oh my god! Pull out, it’s not safe for me!”

“Oh fuck don’t say that- I can’t stop, baby your practically milking my cock! I’m sorry bunny!” he groaned loudly before pressing his lips against yours, holding you down while his cum flooded your cunt. “I’m sorry, ‘m sorry.” he whispered apologetically. Kissing you more tenderly to show his apology. His actions saying otherwise as you felt him get hard again as pushed his cum deeper inside you.

Fanboy! Choso who begs you to go along with a fantasy for weeks before you actually do it because he was so needy, so you finally go stage with a heart shaped plug in you pretty cunt, making sure you keep your cum inside you when you talk to your fans during a fan meet

Fanboy! Choso who exposes his obsession with you after he blindfolded you and took you to his bedroom, he took it off while he was balls deep inside you begging for you to make him a good daddy

Fanboy! Choso who leaks a sex tape of you all fucked out and dripping with his cum so he can have you all to himself…

#— dolly writes #jjk x reader #jjk smut #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo #choso x reader #kamo choso #kamo choso x reader #yandere jjk #yandere!choso kamo x reader #choso smut #choso kamo smut #kamo choso smut #yandere jujutsu kaisen #— dolly’s dark thoughts 💭

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heartfullofleeches · 5 months

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Oh god V x loser darling would be a ship made in hell two deranged idiots together causing untold destruction

As mentioned in this post, V and Loser Reader seem to absolutely fucking despise each other on the surface, but while Reader might actually hate him - V is crushing hard and his feelings show when they attempt to leave his presence or talk to someone else. I imagine they met somewhere online- their first encounter being some dumb comment war beef between them or screaming match in a game lobby and when Reader roasts his ass, not realizing he's a serial doxxer and will release someone's address just for saying his favorite anime is mid, V gathers their information and starts to stalk them planning on ruining their life - but once he finally sees a picture of them his stupid ass immediately starts crushing on them and uses the information he's gained to scare them into dating him

V: Your argument falls through as you clearly have the vocabulary of a middle schooler. Even a literal child would be better at getting their point across that you. Can you even form one coherent sentence, you fucking parasite-

Loser Reader: Kys. Freak.

V: I'm going to dox you and your entire family. We'll see how brave you are when your address is posted for everyone to find

Loser Reader: Here's something to help you out, bitch. [Sends him a private message of themself giving him the middle finger]

[V quietly removes their username from the folder titled "hitlist" and saves the picture they sent him - adding it to different folder titled "Homework"] (spoilers: it ain't homework in that folder)

Loser Reader: I'm heading out!

V: Who the fuck said you could leave without me?

Loser Reader: Kiss my ass, Vince.

V: I mean I'll do it, but you're still not leaving this house.

Loser Reader: Vince, can I use your credit card?

V: With the way you treat me? Fuck no.

[Loser Reader pulls out a pair of cat ears and puts them on]

Loser Reader: Vincey....

V: No, Y/n.

Loser Reader: but your kitty needs it. 👉👈 You don't want to have a sad kitty do you? Sad kitties don't buy maid dresses and cute lingerie with your money to make themselves cute, and submissive and breedable for you-

[V sighs and hands them his wallet]

Loser Reader, tossing the cat ears into the trash: Thanks, Virgin. Would've offered to suck you off if you held out a bit longer, but oh well~

V: ....I will report all of my cards as stolen if you aren't on your knees by the time I count to three

#V my oc #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #male yandere #yandere #loser reader

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reminiscingtonight · 16 days

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would you do a blurb or headcannons for prior engagements?

Prior Engagements Headcanon:

You miss graduation due to an away game scheduled the day of

The barca girls try raising your spirits but they can tell you’re a little disappointed

The game is won easily but by the time you get back to the hotel you’re tired, grumpy, and just want to cuddle with your girlfriend

To your disappointment Alexia all but bolts the second the bus door opens

You don’t even have time to play the wounded girlfriend card because Mapi all but glues herself to your side the moment Alexia’s gone

Dropping off your things in your room? Mapi’s giving you unsolicited advice about your nonexistent cat that she thinks you should adopt

Hunting walking around the hotel in hopes of finding your girlfriend? Mapi’s talking your ear off about the trip Ingrid’s taking her on after the season’s over

Showering to get some peace and quiet? Mapi’s sat outside with the bathroom door wide open, yelling above the shower so she can be heard

By the time you’ve pulled on a change of clothes, ready for your dinner with some of the barca girls, you’ve hit your Mapi limit

The Spainard looks nonplussed when you hint heavily that she should go find Ingrid

“Oh don’t worry, Frido invited me and Ingrid to dinner. She’ll meet us there.”

When Mapi starts directing you to the rec room, you try digging your heels in

She whines that she left her sweatshirt there yesterday but you tell her you’ll wait in the lobby for her with a straight face

When she “accidentally” hits the floor for the rec room, you have to resist the urge to strangle her

The lights are off when you push open the door, which you find strange

Even stranger, when you turn around Mapi has seemingly disappeared

“Goddamnit, Maria, where--”

You jump when the lights flicker on, confetti raining down over you as you’re met with the sight of your grinning teammates

Everyone’s wearing makeshift caps and gowns, a few of them even with fake scrolls in their hands

Alexia comes forward, plopping a graduation cap onto your head

“My smart scholar, I’m so proud of you”

The training staff turns a blind eye when Alexia excitedly pulls you forwards deeper into the room where you can see a cake on the table with a crudely drawn hat and diploma over its top

You’re trying to be polite about it, but Mapi has no qualms making fun of her artwork

Alexia frowns and Ingrid’s already beginning to scold her girlfriend, but you find your justice by grabbing hold of Mapi by the shoulders and shoving her face first into the cake

Alexia decides the debt paid at the sight of Mapi sputtering and wiping frantically to clear her vision

Send me a fic title

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #Ace writes

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nejiverse · 9 months

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SAE’S FLING?!

Itoshi Sae

highschool au in which you guys go on a school trip and sae lives up to his title as your bf. Fem! Reader

cw: one itty bitty swear word, sae bullying aiku and shidou (what’s new), soft sae

1.2k words

You heard a knock on the door of the room you were sharing with two of your friends— the pair rambling on about getting the number of a guy they saw back in the lobby albeit only seeing him from the back.

So it was suspicious when you heard a knock on the door. You looked through the peephole only to be met with your boyfriend who was soaked to the bone, holding a plastic bag in his hand.

You quickly opened the door, a worried look on your face.

"Sae why'd you leave the hotel?? It's pouring outside!".

He extended the bag to you.

You took it and looked at the contents inside. It was a box. As you brought the box out to see exactly what it was, Sae chimed in.

"You said you're iffy about using hotel hair dryers and you forgot yours right?", he leaned against the door frame as you let out a gasp.

After seeing a video on your phone of a woman swabbing different hotel hair dryers and showing close ups of the amount of germs on them, it left you absolutely horrified...you didn't feel like catching a germ you didn't even know the name of.

"Sae, seriously??", you said in disbelief. You looked up at him as he shrugged his shoulders as if it was a bottle of water or something.

You put the box back into the back and shoved it against his chest. "You have to return it!", it looked expensive.

"Why?".

"Sae I appreciate the thought but you can't just go out of your way to buy me a whole ass hairdryer!!".

"You've touched it so it's not mine anymore".

You blinked at his attempt of convincing you to keep it. "You've got to be kidding me...", since when was that a rule??

You would simply counter with your own excuse. "I've no space in my luggage to bring it back home".

"There's space in mine".

"Oh would you look at that!", pointing at the information of the hairdryer that was plastered on the top of the box. "Wow the wattage is really high! It'll be way too loud I might disturb the other people staying here".

"If I can't hear Shidou's voice from outside our room then you're fine".

Your shoulders slumped as you ran out of excuses. "Honestly Sae..I can just air dry my hair".

"Why do that when you have a hairdryer? We've advanced in technology Y/n keep up", he shook his head hopelessly. "Plus are you really gonna make me walk all the way back in the pouring rain just to return it?", he dragged out the ‘all’.

Ooh he was pulling the guilt card on you. You mentally cursed yourself for feeling guilty about how he already went out of his way to get it for you in the first place let alone returning it.

"You're evil Itoshi Sae..", you narrowed your eyes playfully, a small smile gracing your lips.

You put the bag down and cupped his cheeks in your hands. "You need to dry off, you'll catch a cold", you leaned it to place a kiss on his lips put he placed his hand between your faces.

"Then you might get one too idiot".

"It's just a teensy kiss Sae!".

"A 'teensy' kiss can lead to a big cold. Kiss me tomorrow", it was already dark, tomorrow wasn't too far away.

You couldn't help but get a little bit flustered. He cared a lot even though he wasn't flashy with his actions and words. They were subtle but you've known him long enough to notice them.

You pouted and turned around to get him a towel, purposefully reaching for the bright pink one with a snicker and plopping it on his head, drying off his hair for him.

"Pink's really your colour babe", you winked teasingly.

"Shut up..", he huffed.

You both jerked when you heard voices coming from far down the corridor, it sounded much like the teachers.

You quickly placed a kiss on Sae's lips as you held onto the door.

"See you tomorrow morning. And thank you", you smiled, a victory smile specifically. You were able to sneak a kiss.

"If you get sick i'm not taking care of you", you saw the way the corners of his lips tilted upwards. It was small but you saw it just before he turned around.

If you did get sick he would look after you. He always does even when you don't want him to.

Sae walked back quickly to his own room where Shidou and Aiku were in conversation and to be honest, Sae didn't wanna even know what they were talking about.

"Where've you been Sae-chan~", Shidou cooed.

Sae irked at the boy. Now he was in a bad mood thanks to him. He would've much rather stayed with you and got caught than be in a room with Shidou.

"Nowhere, don't call me that", he said firmly and slammed the bathroom door behind him.

"Someone's mad", Aiku chirped.

"Eh. It's past his bedtime is all".

Their eyes couldn't help but wander to the towel that Sae dropped onto his bed before entering the bathroom.

Aiku and Shidou shared a look, the latter being the one to pick it up.

"This is a girl's towel..", he drawled, the two catching a whiff of your perfume from the towel.

Very few people knew that you and Sae were in relationship and you two liked to keep it like that. If people found out then fine, but you wouldn't willingly tell them...especially Shidou and Aiku.

"Looks like Sae's got a chick", Aiku responded.

Shidou burst out into laughter. "Grandpa Sae's got a girlfriend?! He has a tolerance for no one, I mean he doesn't even like us!".

"Maybe she's a fling or something—".

The two felt a heavy presence looming over them as they slowly turned around, afraid to look Sae in the eyes.

"How many times have I told you to keep your paws off my stuff?", Sae said coldly, yanking the towel from Shidou.

Shidou swore he could feel the heat of the towel dragging against his palms.

"And she isn't just a fling don't you ever fucking say that again".

Aiku and Shidou slept with zero blankets and pillows that night.

But at least they knew for certain now that Sae had a girlfriend..

The next day Aiku and Shidou went around smelling the girls on the trip and eventually paired the scent from the towel with yours (weirdos will do weird things).

They teased Sae about for the whole trip which left you with a grumpy boyfriend on the way back home.

Cuddle him please, he'll feel better.

masterlist :)

a/n: I wrote this in one sitting it usually takes me like two or three sittings to write 1k words💀 help I love Sae too much

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moongreenlight · 1 month

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It's WIP Wednesday and I'm thinking so hard about “Chateau Lobby #4 (In C for Two Virgins)” by Father John Misty that my head explodes.

Retired!Price x Divorcee/single mom!reader (titles are hard who cares)

Cw/Tw: Pressure to perform sex/sexual acts

Little 1k blurb that ends right before the smut because I just got done ovulating and the thought of writing about cock and dick is not in the cards rn.

There was never much time to date while John was working. Never enough of him to occupy all of his work and pleasure. Try as he might, he couldn’t seem to spread himself thin enough to coat the surface of all his wants.

He tried for a few years, early, when he could stay out late and still feel alright putting in a full day’s work the next morning. But he’s a romantic at heart. Never found much appeal to a fast-and-loose lifestyle and eventually stopped looking for trouble in places he would find it.

He was now alone, but with more time to figure out what he really wanted after retiring. Had more of himself to portion out. Pursued his hobbies. Picked up odd contracting jobs out of a need to keep himself busy. Found trouble with a single mother and recent divorcee who hired him off of an online ad because she needed help with a few things around her new house.

He knew he was in for it the moment she opened the door. Asked her out while he was half inside a cupboard under her sink. She said no twice.

Third time’s the charm.

She must have been put on one of those religious conveyor belts and turned out like she was on a factory line- that or she had parents to piss off. Married, turned out two kids, and split young. Must have been straight out of high school, because now that the divorce is finalized she’s cheating her way through a business degree at the community college around her day job.

Still carries some of that youth and innocence in her even though she’s only a year or two his junior. In the way she snorts when she laughs and hastily covers it up by holding the back of her hand over her mouth. The three times already tonight she’s prefaced that she doesn’t kiss on the first date and she’s got a strict rule about no ‘secondary locations.’ It’s charming. Like she’s spending any fleeting moment of free time discovering herself.

And is he glad she’s wasting her precious time on him. Even more glad he caught her on a weekend where her ex had the kids, though the idea of introducing himself to her house, her innocence, her little family, was fucking intoxicating. Made him forget the two fingers of whiskey sitting up right of his plate.

He gets so tipsy on the thought of besting her rules that he can’t help but push his luck after she- ever so delicately- refused the waiter trying to drop a dessert menu at the edge of the table.

“Cheap date.”

A snort from her. She has to pull her lips away from the rim of her wine glass to stifle it. House, even though it’ll give her a headache, she says. Couldn’t possibly bring herself to spend a dime of his money further than what was necessary. Darling thing. He’d love to see how far that ‘good girl’ act went. How much pressure it could handle.

She’d probably pull him in warm. Gooey in the middle when he finally got her spread open.

“Wasn’t out to test your fiscal limits”

She dabs the corner of her smile with a napkin. It’s his turn to laugh now.

“Shame. Half my appeal is the restaurant.”

She falters for a breath. Her eyes go a bit wide, like she’s suddenly worried she hasn’t thanked him enough. Hasn’t been good enough to please him. The thought makes him ball his hand into a fist to distract from the tightness in his slacks.

“Gosh, John, and it is such a nice place. Dinner was fantastic. Thank you, really.”

Her fingers curl around his fist. She has to stretch a bit to reach him from across the table. Her fingertips don’t touch even when she tries to wrap her hand around his. Earnest is thick on her voice now. It honeys her tone. He wonders if when she pulls away she’ll leave a sugary stickiness on his skin.

He tsks, a smile flirting across his mouth. Unable to help himself. A hungry stray being tossed a hot meal.

“And how impressive would it have’t be if I had my heart set on bringing you ‘round t’mine for a nightcap?”

She wrinkles her nose at that, though there’s a glittering of humor in her eyes when she gives his hand a kittenish slap.

“You couldn’t afford it.”

Sharp as a tack.

He has to clench his jaw shut to keep from sinking his teeth into her. They ache to see if she’s candy-floss all the way through.

“No?”

“Dinner was fantastic, John. Thank you.”

She throws him a warning glance with that. There’s the faintest outline of severity blurring into the soft edges of her voice. He digs his nails into his palm.

“M’I that bad to talk to?”

He’s pulling out stops now. Ignoring the chirping alarm sounding in the back of his skull that tells him that he should be able to pick out if he’s insisting for the right reasons or not.

She’s more difficult to guilt a second time. Rolls her eyes and starts folding her napkin on the side of her plate.

“Must be.”

She is fucking delectable.

Trouble. Everything about her. Every new layer he peels back sets him ablaze. He’s smoldering in his chair, waiting for the smoke curling off the crown of his head to set off the smoke detectors.

It takes some effort, but he’s able to get her to settle on him coming ‘round to hers after dinner. ‘One drink, John. I’m serious.’ She digs her heels in a bit, but he’d already made his mind up. He’d have her. Tuck her in a paper bag and take his dessert to-go.

She makes him turn away when she punches the code into her garage opener. Says the remote in her car is dead, and while he looks around the edges of the house for security cameras, he makes a note to come back and get both of those things taken care of for her. Doesn’t like the thought of her alone in her driveway after work tired and vulnerable.

Never mind if she had to step out in the rain. Sugar melts.

He tries to convince her to sit on the couch with him while she nurses a weak pour of wine, she refuses. Sits on a plush armchair catty-corner to him in the living room and smiles while shakes her head.

“Not used to being told no?”

It’s less of a question than it is a plain statement. A surface-level observation. It should strike him as an insult, but watching the words fall from her pretty mouth made pride swell in his chest.

“Should I be?”

Trouble. He’s inching toward the line.

“You’d think.”

He wonders what she would think if he took her down to the studs. Not much of anything- if he was lucky.

#moongreenlight #moongreenlightwrites #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod x reader #141 headcanons #drabble #price cod #price call of duty #captain john price #john price #captain price #john price x reader #price x reader #captain john price x reader #wip wednesday

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tkwrites · 1 month

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Happy Birthday, Sarah

gif by @gabelandeskog

Title: Happy Birthday, Sarah - Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (ofc)

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts

Warnings: None. Just some fluff sweet enough to rot your teeth out.

Summary: Quinn is gone over Sarah’s Birthday.

Word Count: 1,500

Comments: I don’t really have any, other than this turned out so sweet, and I love it.

If you liked it, please let me know! Your comments and questions inspire me to keep writing!

Happy Birthday, Sarah

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

“Happy Birthday, Ms. Roberts,” Quinn’s doorman said as he welcomed her into the lobby.

“Thank you, Reese. How’s your day so far?”

“Oh, can’t complain. Lots of studying to do today?”

“Yeah,” she took a deep breath, ��I've got a test on Thursday to prep for.”

“Well, good luck.”

As she waited for and took the elevator, she wondered how he knew it was her birthday. Perhaps they had some kind of calendar that kept track of their tenants' important dates. When Quinn gave her a key, she had to submit her drivers license and complete a background check, which she thought was wild, but Quinn assured her was routine with the building. Even Petey had to do one when he stayed with Quinn for a week earlier in the season.

When she scanned into the apartment, it became clear exactly how he knew it was her birthday. A bouquet of flowers sat in the middle of the dining room table. They definitely weren't there when she’d left the night before. Quinn must have had Reese bring them in that morning.

Tears sprang to her eyes, and she laughed a little as she shook her head.

The flowers were stunning. Pink peonies in perfect, full bloom. They were in an interesting square vase with some small white and purple flowers and fronds of a velvety looking greenery nestled in among them. They must have cost an enormous amount of money. Peonies weren't in season until later in the year and there had to be at least a dozen and a half in there.

Two small gifts and a card were in front of the chair she usually sat in to do her homework.

Quinn was certainly trying to make up for the fact that he wasn’t here.

They’d talked on the phone for a long time the night before as she lay in his bed. He'd sounded genuinely distraught to be missing her birthday.

She assured him it was just another day, and they would celebrate when he got back. Besides, she was used to missing people on her birthday.

Now, standing in this enormous apartment, she sighed, wishing he was here. Yes, she was used to missing people, and knew Quinn didn’t necessarily choose to be gone. Still, she would rather give back these beautiful flowers and any gift he may have bought her to have him here.

At least she had dinner with Travis, Tanner and the kids, and then drinks with her roommates later on.

She wiped her eyes and picked up the card. Her name was on the envelope in Quinns untidy, cramped handwriting.

The card was simple. Nothing more than a folded piece of pink cardstock with ‘Happy Birthday’ written on the front in delicate gold calligraphy.

He’d written in black ink on the inside: Happy Birthday, Sarah! I hope you have a great day. I wish I could be there, but I’m excited to celebrate with you in a few days. Call me when you get this - Quinn

She wiped her cheeks again, clearing the mascara stains from under her eyes and facetimed him.

Before she caught more than a brief glimpse of his face, the phone was wrestled out of his hand.

The camera was turned around as he protested, “Hey!”

She had to close her eyes as the picture shook with the ensuing scuffle.

“Guys! Guys! It’s her!”

Someone finally gained possession and was pointing the phone around the bus.

All at once, an entire team of hockey players was singing Happy Birthday to her. Some were standing out of their seats belting it out with all their gusto, and others were just singing along, not looking up from their devices.

Sarah laughed, blinking back a fresh wave of tears. It sucked to have him gone, but this was sweet.

They ended with a very off key “Yooooou!” and the camera turned back to the front, showing Elias with a teasing, mischievous glint in his eyes, “Happy birthday, Sarah!” he said. “Thanks for making Huggy bearable!”

Lots of guys around them laughed, and Quinn took the phone back, shoving him out of the picture.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said, switching the audio to his airpods, “Some of the guys found out it’s your birthday and, well, you saw.” He smiled through the bright blush on his cheeks, “Happy birthday, beautiful.”

“Thank you so much,” she said, her voice a little wobbly.

“Happy birthday, beautiful,” Brock mocked over the back of Quinn's seat, forcing his way into frame.

“Get out of here, dick,” Quinn said, shoving him away.

She heard someone cackle.

“I'm sorry about them,” he said, blushing somehow brighter.

Sarah grinned, “it's fine. That was really sweet.”

The guys had finally gone back to their own conversations. Elias had even moved to the row behind with Brock to give Quinn a bit more privacy.

“The flowers are so beautiful,” she said.

“Eunice said Peonies are your favorite.”

“They are. They're so lovely.”

“The florist put some other stuff in there. He said they're your birth month flower.”

“I thought those were daisies.”

He shrugged.

“Well, whatever they are, they're so beautiful. Thank you.”

“You're welcome. Did you open your gifts yet?”

Shaking her head, she propped her phone up against the vase and sat down.

Each gift was wrapped in shiny ocean-like blue paper with the kind of precision that told her someone else did it. Quinn would never have the patience to wrap gifts this tightly.

One was long and thin while the other was more of a cube.

She had a sudden, consuming worry that he had bought her jewelry, which seemed too formal for the fact that they hadn't even been dating for six months.

Hesitation building in her stomach, she asked, “should I open one before the other?”

“The long one first.”

She could tell from the look on Quinn’s face that he just wanted her to tear into it, but she took her time, trying to calm her nerves. A flat white box greeted her. As she pulled the paper away and realized what it was, her eyes darted to her phone, where he was watching, smiling expectantly.

“Quinn,” she said, bringing a hand to her mouth, “this is too much.”

He shook his head and held himself back from telling her it wasn’t enough. “I know you have to keep your phone in your bag at the aquarium, so I thought this might help,” he said. “It’s the new one that’s really water resistant so you don’t have to worry about dunking it in the tanks.”

It was like he knew she’d been lusting after an apple watch since they were released, but couldn’t justify the cost with the risk of water damage that came with her job.

“I know you don’t like the silicone bands, but that was all they had at the store,” he said. He’d tried to give her a silicone bracelet once, and she’d grimaced apologetically as she told him she hated the feel of them on her wrist. “I ordered some different straps, but they haven’t come yet.”

Behind him, he heard Elias and Brock sniggering. He flipped them off with the hand not holding his phone and they howled with laughter.

When she looked back into the camera, there were tears in her eyes. “Thank you. I wish you were here so I could kiss you.”

“I wish I was there, too.”

The other gift was a set of airpods. Quinn insisted they came with the watch as a kind of promotion. She wasn’t totally sure if she believed that or not, but she was thankful all the same.

“I really don’t even know what to say,” she confessed, “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome. Happy Birthday.”

They chatted for a few more minutes before the bus arrived, and Quinn had to hang up.

Unable to help herself, Sarah googled the watch, and gasped when she saw the price tag. The underwater capabilities came with a hefty price increase of nearly three times more than a regular smart watch.

Quinn! she sent him, This watch was $800!

When her message came through, Quinn laughed a little. He’d been expecting it.

Was this more than he’d spent on a gift for someone he’d been dating less than six months in the past? Yes. But things felt different with Sarah. He wasn’t waiting to see if they would work. He’d never felt like this before - like he knew they would be together for a long, long time. That first time he talked to her, it was like finding a sudden, missing puzzle piece in his life, and they had only continued getting better since then.

Plus, he had the money to solve a problem he knew bothered her, so why not just do it?

I’d spend it again to make you happy.

Happy Birthday, Sarah.

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

#quinn & sarah snapshots #quinn hughes #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x oc #qh43 #vancover canucks #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey romance #quinn hughes oneshot #nhl oneshot

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theresattrpgforthat · 2 months

Note

This may have already been asked about: but courtly intrigue games!?

THEME: Court Intrigue

Hello friend, I’ve got a nice selection for you, with surprisingly a lot of games housed in the Forged in the Dark framework! I’d also recommend checking out the bottom of this post for other games I’ve talked about in the past!

Court of Whispers, by Alexiconman.

The Court of Whispers… the nobility here are neither great nor good. They all have dark secrets they wish to keep hidden, while hoping that their rivals are exposed and lose face in court.

Court of Whispers is a TTRPG/social deduction game for four or more players playing competitively, but requiring negotiation and brief alliances to succeed. No dice, GM or stats are used. The Court itself can be wherever you want it to be - historical, fantastical, whatever. Perhaps it's a mythological pantheon or faerie court or convocation of demon dukes?

Decide on your name and title, then invent a dark secret in three parts.Your rivals will, amongst them, know these details, but you will know parts of their secrets. Who will be the last to have their secrets revealed??

A game all about piecing together information, this will probably appeal to you if you like social deduction games. Bargain away pieces of information that you hold in order to gain crucial secrets that belong to someone else. Lie, blackmail and negotiate until you think you have someone’s complete secret, and eliminate your opponent when you announce it to the group. The game ends when only one person remains, their reputation not completely tarnished.

Rebel Crown, by Narrative Dynamics.

Rebel Crown is a tabletop roleplaying game of courtly intrigue, obsessive ambition, and perilous conflict. One player takes on the role of the Claimant, former heir to the throne who was betrayed by their family and robbed of their rightful titles. Others play their most stalwart allies: wise chancellor, devoted knight, idealistic noble, vengeful soldier, or opportunistic outlaw. Conflicting duties and ambitions will push them into points of tension, but their commitment to the Claimant’s ascent ties them together.

A GM plays the other inhabitants of the cursed and fractured Empire: nobles, commoners, outlaws, and undead wraiths. The GM presents opportunities, foreshadows consequences, and introduces adversity. They present the challenges that make the player characters’ fight for the throne uncertain and exciting. As a group, you play to find out whether the Claimant can take their throne and what sacrifices must be made along the way.

Rebel Crown has a pretty detailed gameplay loop, re-contextualizing the Downtime and Score parts of Blades into a Recon and Sortie phase, respectively. The group’s goal is laser-focused: you’re trying to put your Claimant on the throne. However, there’s different objectives that you can complete in your goal to restore their rightful title, including finding a way to gain status by building trust, weakening factions that oppose you, and either seizing or destroying holdings that are vital lands within the kingdom.

You can build your own kingdom and Claimant if you wish, but the designers have also created two campaigns with some details already decided, to help speed up your session 0, called Serpent & Oak. You can also check out a quick rules reference and the playbook handouts for free!

Courtiers, by Levi Kornelson.

In this game, players will take on the roles of (competing) courtiers, each of whom is lobbying the royal court in an attempt to promote their local agenda. The game uses the front and back of a single sheet of paper, and requires four players, a stack of index cards, pens, and six-side dice to play.

This is a combination roleplaying-game and boardgame, relying on the randomness of the dice and the placement of index cards in a row to determine what proposals the court passes and what proposals are denied. Each player will pick up a pre-written character and flesh out their specific goals using proposals, and then take turns trying to push for their proposals to pass. The game has a very specific end point - that being that the approval pile has three proposals.

I think Courtiers is good for folks who want a single-session experience of court politics, or perhaps a way to determine how a kingdom changes before diving into what that means for their characters in a much larger setting.

Most Trusted Advisors, by the HORIZON MACHINE.

Execute your cunning plan before your liege executes you.

Hark, ye players of games! Indulge in the merry vice of dice-playing with this comic production, easy to pick up and play with but a quick skim of the rules. The digital manuscript has been crafted by our finest computer artisans to be perfect for light-hearted, madcap one-shots and short campaigns.

There is nary a heroic act to be documented within these pages. In Most Trusted Advisors, you'll one-up your friends' plans with Twists and buy their credulity with Ducats as you compete for your feudal lord's approval. Poison and murder your enemies as the loathsome Blackguard, start duels and wars as the boisterous Marshal, or pick one of four other dastardly playbooks with which to accomplish your wicked schemes.

You can set this game in the provided setting, or create your own. The playbooks are reminiscent of Forged-in-the-Dark games, with action ratings, friends and rivals, and special abilities, but much of what you can do follows the same style of play as Belonging-Outside-Belonging games. This is through the Ducat system, which allows you to gain Ducats through certain (nefarious) actions, and spend Ducats in order get new information, present something new to the fiction, or change the story in a specific way.

If you are looking for a courtly intrigue game with the potential for high camp, this is likely the game for you.

Court of Blades, by A Couple of Drakes.

Court of Blades takes place in the vibrant, fantasy renaissance city-state of Ilrien, in a world populated by scheming nobles, court magicians, and dashing duelists.

As a noble retainer, you will engage in the polite civil warfare of the great families. You will host lavish balls, and manipulate the courts, uncover the plots of your rivals, protect the city from arcane dangers, manage your own intrigues and personal scandals, leverage your reputations, connections, and so much more.

Inspired by infamous warring families like history's Medicis and Pazzis, Shakespeare's Montagues and Capulets, or Game of Thrones' Starks and Lannisters, in Court of Blades you will take on the role of a talented retainer to a newly risen House of the Esultare in the great city of Ilrien. The Esultare, composed of the six Houses Major, are considered to be the most powerful families in the Principalities. Amongst them they have their own pecking order, and every citizen of Ilrien is aware of every house’s position within that order.

We play to find out if our noble retainers can play the Great Game and win it all, or if they'll fall prey to the machinations of their rivals or their own human failings.

In this game you’re not the most important members of a great house, but rather just beneath them. This makes you vital to their success, however, because you have the ability to walk where the noble dare not tread. If you can succeed, you may find yourselves elevated to a true place of power.

This is a great game for whispered secrets behind elaborate fans, masked balls where conversations are held throughout a dance, and eavesdropping happens behind false walls or under lush balconies. There’s also magic involved, and a hidden world that you can exploit in your desire to rise to the top. If you like dramatic storytelling and a romantic setting, this might be the game for you.

Also Check Out...

Political and Social Drama Rec Post

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #game recommendations #dnd #asks #indie ttrpg #intrigue #social games #court games

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weemssapphic · 4 months

Text

Lipstick Stains - Pt. 15

previous chapter | next chapter | series page

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

summary: As your weekend getaway comes to a close, life at Nevermore continues as usual - with all the ups and especially downs that this entails.

words: ~ 2.5k | ao3 link in title

A/N: HI I'M SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO FINISH THIS. I lost all motivation, but it's slowly coming back. The most MASSIVE thank you goes out to @afeatherformills for beta reading, helping me plan out the next chapters, giving me ideas and being so patient with me! I love you! <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You really wished you didn’t have to leave New York. The weekend had been one of the best of your entire life - the prospect of going back to classes on Monday morning, of going back to seeing Larissa once or twice a week while you lived your lives in two separate worlds, was something that caused a little pit of dread to grow in your stomach. You clung a little tighter to Larissa in bed that morning, pouting when Larissa extricated herself from your grip to let in room service.

Maybe you were being a bit clingy, you realized, as you nearly caused Larissa to spill her coffee all over the sheets as you burrowed into her side. But it was with good reason, and you could tell from the softness in your lover’s gaze (even as she gasped and tried to hold her mug steady) that she was feeling the same way.

“We have to check out in half an hour,” Larissa said with a sigh, once you’d finished picking at your food. You looked up at her from where your head rested in her lap, your lips curling into a frown.

“Can’t we just stay here forever?” you whispered hopefully - of course you couldn’t, you knew, but the thought was awfully tempting.

Larissa smiled, a hint of sadness in her eyes as she carded her fingers through your hair, red-tipped nails lightly scratching your scalp. “Don’t look at me like that,” she whispered.

“Like what?”

“Like that,” she teased, dragging her finger across your pouting lips. “It makes me want to give you everything you ask for.”

“Pleaaaase?” You gave her your best puppy dog eyes, burrowing your head further into her lap.

“How about I promise you that we’ll take another trip soon? The students have exams coming up but perhaps after that, before Christmas?”

In spite of your sadness, an undercurrent of excitement was already brewing in your veins - you couldn’t help the grin forming at Larissa’s words, and her own smile grew brighter at the sight.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, Larissa, that’s a yes,” you said with a playful eye roll.

After packing up your things, Larissa ushered you down to the lobby to check out. Seeing as your flight wasn’t leaving until the evening, you left your suitcases with the reception to head out into the city and find a nice café.

Something about walking through the streets of New York City with Larissa felt so liberating to you. There was this freeing feeling that no one here knew you - you could be anyone, do anything you wanted. You could be as open as you wanted to be - and you could tell that Larissa felt the same. You’d rarely seen her so free, so uninhibited, so relaxed.

It hit you as you sat across from her in a little café you’d found. The two of you were tucked away in a booth in the back corner, away from the other patrons. It was cozy and warm, and the way Larissa was looking at you over the rim of her mug was bringing heat to your cheeks. You’d never been looked at with so much affection before - her sapphire eyes were bright and loving, drinking you in as if you were a work of art to be admired, a sight to be savored. If you hadn’t been seated, you’d have gone weak in the knees.

“When are you free this week?” you blurted out, and Larissa smiled as she placed her mug down in front of her and leaned her elbows on the table, propping her chin on her hand.

“Why do you ask?” She sounded amused at your sudden outburst, her tone bordering on teasing.

“I mean… I’ve been meaning to paint you. We could make a date out of it?” You held your breath hopefully as you waited for Larissa to respond. Her cheeks darkened and her eyelashes fluttered gently against her cheeks as she glanced down at the table, suddenly looking rather shy.

“I would really love that,” she whispered, her lips curling up at the outer corners. “I’ll check my calendar when I get back to Nevermore.” For all of her confidence and dominance in nearly every aspect of her life, she was very easily flustered by you. You could hardly fathom why, but it was extremely endearing to watch her smoldering gaze turn soft and affectionate, to watch her cheeks turn pink, to witness her chest hitching whenever you would do or say something that made her lose her cool.

“Cool,” you whispered back, a smile tugging at your lips.

~~~

You should have known that the little bubble you’d found yourself in over the weekend would burst the moment you landed in Vermont.

When the plane touched down, Larissa leaned over and gave you a tender kiss, her hand coming to rest on your thigh. She turned her attention to the phone in her other hand, turning off airplane mode as you did the same with yours.

A sharp intake of breath caused you to glance over at Larissa, whose brow was furrowed as her eyes scanned the little screen.

“What’s wrong?” You tried to peek at the screen, seeing about half a dozen or so missed calls from the sheriff in her notifications.

Larissa gave you a worried look as she clicked on one of the calls and lifted the phone up to her ear.

“Sheriff Galpin, I was just on a flight. I do hope there’s a reason you’ve called this late on a Sunday? … I’m sorry, pardon?”

You observed Larissa as closely as you could - her forehead wrinkled as she listened to whatever the sheriff was saying, her face growing pale and her lips parting in shock. Then you felt her grip on your thigh tighten and you glanced down to see her knuckles slowly turning white as her nails dug into your flesh.

“I-I understand. Did you see who may have hit him?”

Placing a hand over her own, you gently pried it off of your thigh and held it in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Ms. Addams?” Larissa’s face hardened and she let out an annoyed scoff. You weren’t sure what had happened, but if Wednesday was involved, you knew it couldn’t be anything good.

“I hate to trouble you, but would you be able to drive her back to Nevermore? Have her come straight to my office, I should be there in an hour at the latest.” Larissa had turned from shocked and concerned to hard and authoritative within seconds, and you waited for her to finish the call and slide her phone into her purse before giving her hand another squeeze.

“What happened?” you whispered. The plane had pulled up to the gate and passengers were beginning to stand and collect their luggage from the overhead bins.

“Mayor Walker has been hit by a car and is in critical condition.” Larissa’s lip twitched as she spoke, and she swallowed thickly.

You felt your stomach drop. “And Wednesday?”

“Ms. Addams was witness to the accident. How that girl manages to end up at the center of every terrible thing that happens around here, I’ll never know.”

“Fuck, Larissa, I’m sorry…” As the man in the aisle seat next to you stood, you followed suit, your conversation briefly interrupted as you made your way off the plane and towards the baggage claim. Larissa held your hand in a death-grip in the ten or so minutes that you waited for your suitcases - in her other hand was her phone, which she glanced down at every couple of seconds.

Once you’d retrieved your suitcases, you rolled both of them towards the exit as Larissa was quite distracted by her emails. So distracted that she nearly bumped into you when you stopped and turned to face her. She slid her phone reluctantly into her purse, looking guilty as she met your gaze.

“Go,” you said softly, nodding your head towards the exit for the parking lot. “There’s a bus I can catch.”

Larissa’s brows knit together and she frowned. “No. I want to drive you home.” Even as she spoke you could see the conflict in her eyes, the internal battle taking place, and you took a step towards her, placing your hands on her waist and smiling up at her.

“Please go. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Larissa began to nibble at her bottom lip as her eyes darted between your own. Finally, she sighed. “Thank you. At least take a taxi though.” She began to rifle through her purse for her wallet, opening it and pulling out a few bills, which she folded and tucked into your pocket in spite of your protests.

“Fine,” you huffed with a playful eye roll. “I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

Larissa nodded her head and smiled - it didn’t quite reach her eyes, though you could tell it was genuine all the same. After giving you a tight hug, she dragged her suitcase out to the parking lot, her head held high and her step quick. You watched her go, waiting until she was out of sight before making your own way to the front of the airport to get a taxi with a heavy heart and a weird gnawing in your belly.

~~~

As you stepped over the threshold of the apartment, you were greeted by the smell of chinese food and the excited squeals of your roommate, Cassandra, who launched herself at you and pulled you into a tight hug.

Cass was chattering away before you could even properly close the door behind you. “How was it? You have to tell us everything. Do you have pictures of the hotel? Robin said that Larissa is loaded, it better have been nice!” She pulled back and gave you a once-over, smirking as her eyes lingered on the faint hickeys littering your neck. “Don’t tell me you didn’t leave the hotel room?”

“Let her breathe,” Robin called out from the couch, making you chuckle a bit.

Cassandra rolled her eyes and let out a playful huff. “Okay, but it’s her fault for not texting us all weekend.”

“I see you every damn day anyway,” you said, taking a moment to drop your bag to the floor and remove your coat. “If you want a play-by-play, you’re not getting one. It was nice. We went to the Met and we saw Wicked.” You shrugged - of course you’d had the perfect weekend and were excited to gush about it (and especially about Larissa) to your friends. But the situation with the mayor and Larissa’s abrupt departure at the airport left you feeling rather ill at ease, and you couldn’t keep your thoughts from wandering towards your partner.

“Something happened,” Cassandra said, pulling you out of your thoughts. She squinted at you, cocking her head. “What’s wrong?”

You let out a long sigh - she knew you too well, you should have known she’d be able to tell your mood was off. “Larissa had to head back to Nevermore, something about Mayor Walker being hit by a car.”

The silence in the apartment was deafening - even Cassandra didn’t seem to know what to say to that, her brown eyes wide with shock. After a few moments, Robin stood from the couch and walked over, her arms crossed over her chest. “What?”

“He’s in critical condition, I guess. I dunno. It sounded pretty bad, Larissa seemed worried.”

“Jesus…”

“Yeah…”

Cassandra hesitated for a moment, then pulled you into another hug, this one much gentler than the last. “You wanna call her?”

“Later…” You bit your lip, knowing Larissa would probably be busy dealing with Wednesday and the sheriff for a few hours. You might as well try to distract yourself in the meantime. “Did you guys order food?”

Cassandra laughed at the way you peeked over her shoulder into the living room. “Yeah, there’s enough if you want some?”

“Fuck yeah, I’m starving.”

The rest of your evening was spent in the living room, eating Chinese takeout and relaying the details (well, some of the details) of your trip to your friends. The awkward air surrounding the mayor’s condition slowly dissipated as your friends huddled around your phone to scroll through pictures from the weekend - it wasn’t lost on Cassandra how half the pictures were candids of Larissa, and she couldn’t help but tease you about it.

It was nearing midnight by the time you finished talking about the trip - you said goodnight to your roommates and hurried into your room, video calling Larissa before you’d even properly shut the door behind you and praying that she was still awake. She was, of course - she answered on the second ring. She appeared to still be sitting at her desk, her face illuminated by the cool glow of her laptop screen.

“Riss, it’s a Sunday night. The emails will still be there tomorrow morning.” Your brows furrowed with worry, and Larissa afforded you a sheepish smile.

“I know.” She let out a heavy sigh. “I needed the distraction. I promise, I’ll go to bed after we call.” You gave her a look of warning, raising your eyebrow and causing her to blush and look down.

“How are you doing?” you asked softly, getting comfortable on your stomach on the bed.

“I’ve been better,” she admitted quietly. “I’ve put Nevermore on lockdown. I don’t want my students roaming about Jericho, I couldn’t let something happen to them - not after this, not after what happened to Eugene…”

Larissa looked so worn down, so different from how she’d looked that very morning, that it made your heart hurt. “That sounds like a good idea.”

“I’m sorry our weekend ended on such a sour note, darling. I didn’t want it to end like this.” She bit her lip, a remorseful look crossing her face as she leaned back in her chair.

“Hey, it’s alright, I promise.” You tried to get your voice as sincere as possible, not wanting to make Larissa feel any worse than she already did. “It’s not your fault, anyway. It doesn’t take away from the amazing weekend we had.”

“I had a lovely time,” she whispered, a soft smile briefly lighting up her features. “I don’t want you to think I’m sorry for taking the time off work - I would do it all over again to have that time together.”

Her comments were making you beam and blush like crazy, and you propped your chin up on your hand. “Am I crazy for missing you already?”

“If you’re crazy then I must be, as well.” The blonde let out a chuckle, shaking her head. “Would you like to come over tomorrow evening? I think I could use the company.”

Your answer, without a moment’s hesitation, was a resounding “yes” - it made Larissa smile and bite her lip. She told you she’d finish writing the email and then head to bed.

“Take care of yourself, Riss.”

Larissa’s face softened. “You too… and be careful, alright, darling?”

You could see the worry written across her face - it was heartbreaking to witness.

“I will. I promise. I love you, Riss.”

“I love you, too.”

Taglist: @littledollll @nlr-33 @mysaviorfalsegod @imlike-so-gaydude @rainbow-hedgehog @enchantressb @alder-saan @autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @amateurwritescm @brienneswife @principal-weems09 @messynessi @larissaoftarthweems @anti-bright-places @lvinhs @catechristiesstuff @ladyzmilf002 @milfsloverblog @opheliauniverse @orangeisnttheonlyfruit @im-a-carnivorous-plant @alexusonfire @bigolgay @kimiinou @wastdstime @scream-queenlover @imprincipalweemspet @justcallmelittleone @willowshadenox @milfsloverblog @leftoverenvy @yahaqueen @peggycarter3 @lilfartbox1 @makemyworldworthliving @crow-raven-crow @mosscoveredcrucifix @opalthefrog @barbarasstar

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#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #principal weems x reader #lipstick stains #lipstick stains series

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penny00dreadful · 6 months

Text

Cat and Mouse - Spy AU - Part 1

AO3

18th April 2015

Steve pulled the trigger, barely even paying attention as the bullet tore through the head of his target. He was just so ready to go home, god this week had been boring.

His target was some bank executive that had started to funnel funds towards various criminal enterprises, helping those criminal families gain more power and Steve had been contracted to weed that rot out, right at the root.

The Hagans, Kline and Johnson families would probably still find ways to rise up in the ranks but it had been kneecapped now, making things more difficult for them.

They’d never climb to the heights of the Creel Syndicate anyway.

Steve was pretty sure no one could.

Henry Creel, legendary crime lord that he was, had somehow managed to cultivate a culture of fear and respect amongst even the lowest of street drug dealers.

Not to mention the borderline mythical assassin he was rumoured to have at his side. No one knew who they were, no one even knew if they existed. Some claimed the assassin was just some boogeyman story cooked up by Creel to keep his workers in line and Steve wouldn’t put it past him. The guy was creative.

And some things that had been attributed to this assassin were downright impossible so… They were probably made up.

This mythical boogeyman had some kind of title as well but Steve had never really paid much attention to the rumours and the ghosts floating around the underworld he was a part of.

Lies were practically currency to them so he’d have to see it to believe it.

Whoever ended up working on the Creel case was going to have their fucking work cut out for them.

Holstering his weapon, Steve snapped on a pair of blue latex gloves and he knelt beside his dead mark, slowly leaking blood and brains from the hole at the back of his head.

Steve fished around inside the guy’s pockets, locating his wallet. There was a family photo in there, library card, organ donor card, an obscene amount of credit cards and a loyalty card for the strip club across town.

Since when did strip clubs do loyalty cards?

Whatever. Steve located his driver's licence and pulled it out.

“Hm.” Steve tilted his head, reading the name from the laminated card. “Sorry, Peter. It’s not personal. It’s just business.”

He tucked the licence back into the guy's wallet, returning it to his pocket.

It only took three minutes for Steve to stage the scene, breaking into the guy's gun safe, planting the weapon just next to his hand, like it had flown out of his grip when he pulled the trigger.

He slipped out into the hallway of the high rise apartment building, removing his gloves and stuffing them into his pocket, pushing his hair back from his face and coming to a stop in front of the elevator.

The doors opened and an elderly lady with a yappy dog gave him the suspicious eye, no doubt not recognising him from this floor but as Steve took a step back with his most charming smile and a gentlemanly gesture, motioning her out of the elevator she smiled back and he knew he was in the clear.

He got back down to the lobby and through the front door, onto the streets with no issue, allowing himself to get lost in the crowd.

He reached up to his ear, flicking a small switch on the back of his ‘hearing aid’, allowing Robin to hear him, rather than just monitor his location and vitals.

“Okay, I’m out. You can stop looping the cameras.”

“Roger that, dingus.” Robin was probably saluting him right now from behind her desk, sounding like she was speaking in his head.

It had taken a long time for him to get used to it, hearing Robin, but still being able to hear everything around him at the same time.

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Be nicer to me.”

“You say that to me every time, and every time I say no. Job went easy enough?”

“Yeah, practically childsplay.”

Steve kept his eyes open, never quite able to switch the part of his brain off that was waiting for the next hit from around a corner, a knife in the gut or a bullet in the shoulder.

He’d already managed to walk a few blocks, trying to put as much space between himself and his completed job as he could without moving too fast.

The crowd around him was both safety giving and dangerous.

Easy to disappear into but easy for someone to sneak up on him unseen.

Speaking of…

There was a figure shadowing him, had been shadowing him for a few minutes.

It could be nothing.

It could be some guy walking the same route as him.

But it wasn’t.

Every time Steve caught sight of him in his periphery or through the reflection of a store window, the guy had his eyes on him.

Locked on him, like he couldn’t afford to lose him, but Steve wasn’t worried.

The guy was weedy, probably weighed 140 pounds soaking wet.

The large leather jacket and the denim vest made him look bulkier than he was and he'd nearly tripped over his own shoelaces twice trying to keep up.

Steve could tell when people were dangerous. It was in the way they held themselves. The way they walked. The way they looked at those around them. How they held their hands at rest.

This guy was none of those things.

He might dress mean and scary but he was as delicate as a flower petal on the inside, Steve could tell.

So he wasn't exactly worried he was about to be shoved into a black van or choked out.

At least not this time around.

He was probably just going to be pickpocketed.

He recognised the look on the guy's face.

Desperate.

A panicky kind of desperate.

Like if the guy didn’t get some money into his hand immediately, the hounds of hell were gonna be on his ass. Probably break his kneecaps for good measure.

He could just be looking for money for a fix, Steve tried to reason with himself. He certainly had the eye bags, the pale waxy skin, the skinny frame that told that kind of story.

But even from as far away as he was, Steve knew that wasn’t the case.

Though he couldn’t see him clearly, he could tell his eyes were bright.

Alive and clear and piercing and active.

Not the hazy, cloudy, bloodshot gaze of someone coming down from their high or going through withdrawal.

Steve guessed he was some kind of dealer.

Street level, considering how he tried to look scary but wasn’t really.

Any higher up than street level and he would have held a certain amount of danger around himself. He would have had to, to survive after all.

So what had made him so desperate and what about Steve had caught his gaze?

Steve glanced down at himself, to his pristine polo, light wash vintage levi’s and spotless sneakers.

Ah.

Well that would be it.

Steve looked like he came from money. Especially walking through this part of the city.

And like… the guy’s guess wasn’t wrong.

Steve did come from money. But he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of his parents or their money since he was eighteen years old, nine years ago.

Any money Steve had now was his own. Being a spy paid really well, as it turned out.

But the desperation radiating off this guy, even as far back in the crowd as he was, was making him sloppy. A regular civilian would know they were being followed at this stage, never mind Steve Harrington who’d been trained to within an inch of his life for this.

He could enter a room he’d never been in before and immediately know the most effective route for escape. He could look at a lineup of randomly selected people and know straight away who was the most dangerous in hand to hand combat and who would be most likely to have a weapon on them.

Steve could snap this guy in half over his knee probably without breaking a sweat.

Even still he felt a little bad.

He needed to talk it out. Needed someone to confirm for him he wasn’t going crazy.

"Someone's on my tail, Birdie." Steve muttered, flipping the switch on his hearing aid communicator again.

"Okay,” He could almost picture her nodding. “Gimme a description, I'll see if I can find them."

"No, it’s not an enemy or anything. I don't even think it's something I need to be worried about, honestly. Just some bottom of the totem pole dealer. Nicotine stains on his fingers, cigarette burns on his clothes. And Jesus Christ has he ever even heard of conditioner? And his eyes are huge.”

“Do you think he’s on something?”

“No.” He kept his eyes forward and continued to smoothly weave his way through the crowd. “But he is pale. Gaunt. His denim jacket looks pretty ratty. It’s been repaired multiple times. By hand. And he definitely hasn't eaten in a while. I think he’s probably gonna try to steal my wallet to stop his boss from breaking his legs."

“You don’t think that maybe he’s just hungry?”

Steve shook his head. “No. He looks pretty desperate but not that kind.” He frowned again, almost muttering. “Scared desperate.”

Robin sighed. "Steven."

"What?"

"Don't do it, babe."

"Why shouldn't I help the guy out?” Steve was already pulling his wallet out while ruffling his hair.

Misdirection.

“I can part with $20. Stick it in my jacket pocket, loose. Make it just obvious enough and easy to take. What's the big issue?"

"You're a bleeding heart, that's the issue."

"Yeah, well. He clearly needs it more than I do."

"Is he cute?" She asked in a teasing tone, making it clear she thought he wasn’t just a bleeding heart, he was a horny bleeding heart who could be swayed by a pretty face.

Which…

Didn’t need to be pointed out.

"...No."

"Wow, decorated Special Operative Steven J. Harrington everyone.” He could almost hear her waving her hands around. “Infiltrator, martial combatant and, apparently, a master liar. On his way to recruit another wayward stray."

"Oh, fuck off. Why not spit out my whole government name, that definitely won't put me in danger."

"You're wearing a bone conduction audio transmitting ‘hearing aid’, I'm literally in your head-”

“You’re not in my head, you’re in my cochlea.”

“Which is in your head, dingus. No one can hear me and it's a secure line. You, however, can be overheard so don't sell me down the river."

"Well then, you better be nicer to me."

“Never.”

Something bumped against his elbow and he was suddenly, painfully aware of a body behind him, right up in his space.

He didn’t even think before he lashed out behind him, snatching the figure's wrist in a vice-like grip, spinning the two of them into a nearby alleyway and pinning the stranger against the wall.

“Woah, man.”

Oh.

It was just the guy who’d been following him.

He was staring at Steve with wide, deep, brown eyes, shaking his head.

He looked fucking terrified.

“I- I don’t want any trouble, I swear.”

Steve took a breath before dropping the guy’s wrist like it had burned him, taking a step back.

The guy's eyes were flicking nervously over Steve’s face, waiting for him to strike probably, before his gaze settled just to the left of Steve’s head.

He was looking at his hearing aid, but Steve pretended not to know that, lifting his hand to his ear in confusion and allowing him to subtly flip the switch off so Robin couldn’t hear anything anymore.

“Try not to fall on his dick.” She muttered at him when she heard the click.

But he could hear her, like always.

Steve rolled his eyes, making sure it was aimed at the guy, acting like his exasperation was because he just noticed the hearing aid.

“Don’t tell me you’re suddenly gonna feel bad because of this?” Steve gestured at it.

The guy shook his head, still plastered up against the wall as though he wanted to melt into it, trying to put even more distance between them.

“Relax, man. I’m not gonna attack you, or whatever.” He crossed his arms over his chest, setting up another barrier between them to try and put the guy at ease.

He didn’t think it was working very well.

The guy in front of him looked like a stiff breeze would blow him over. The same height as Steve but built much smaller, slender and delicate looking despite the heavy boots and chains and tattoos Steve could see peeking out under the neck of his shirt and spreading over his hands and fingers.

His hair was a curly nightmare, clearly needing an introduction to some conditioner and probably brushed with a regular hairbrush like a heathen, but aside from that the guy was…

Well, he was gorgeous.

His mouth was full and plump and parted ever so slightly in fear. His eyes were as huge as Steve thought they were at first glance, deep and brown and warm. His face was slim and soft looking, with laugh lines cutting down on either side of his mouth and a hint of scraggly stubble that was putting Steve in emotional danger.

Steve could probably throw him over his shoulder with ease.

Maybe that wasn’t the most helpful thing to be thinking right now.

“Right, right, yeah.” The guy nodded again. “You’re not gonna attack me. You just dragged me into an alleyway for a friendly chat.”

“And you just stuck your hand in my pocket for completely innocent reasons.”

The guy blinked at him, those big eyes somehow getting bigger before growing mischievous, despite the clear nervousness still radiating off of him.

“You planted it there.”

Steve opened and closed his mouth, his eyebrows high on his head.

“You saw that?”

“Was I not supposed to?” He squeaked, like Steve was gonna kill him just for pointing it out. “It was kind of obvious.”

Interesting. Maybe he’d underestimated him.

“It shouldn’t have been.”

“Really?” The guy gave him a playful grimace. “Then I don’t know what to tell you. I saw it from a mile off.”

Steve’s mouth tugged into a reluctant smile and he ducked his head a little to hide it, leaning back against the opposite wall.

“What’s your name?”

“Wh-” The guy paused, shaking his head, bewildered. “What’s happening right now?”

“I’m asking you your name.”

“Yeah, I got that part sweetheart, but why the hell are you doing that?”

Sweetheart was sneered out but it still got the colour rising up Steve’s neck.

“I don’t know, to help you chill out a little bit or something. Fuck. I’m sorry I dragged you back here, I think I was just going off of… fight or flight or something.”

“Great, great. You be fight, I’ll be flight.”

Steve couldn’t help the light chuckle that came out at that and was taken momentarily off guard by the small smile it brought to the guy's face.

Pretty. He’s so fucking pretty.

Steve reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the $20 he’d originally stashed, holding it out between his index and middle finger.

The guy eyed it before flicking his gaze back up to Steve.

“I don’t know what you’re expecting in exchange for that but I’m not that cheap. Even for a face as nice as yours.”

“What?” Steve scrunching his eyebrows in confusion before realisation dawned on him. “Dude. I’m not asking you to blow me for twenty fucking dollars. Christ.”

The guy hummed, but snatched the bill up anyway. Steve could just make out the word inked across his knuckles, mors. The calluses on the tips of his fingers brushed Steve’s skin, telling a story of years playing a string instrument.

Based on the position and angle, it could have been guitar or bass, but it could have also been cello or violin.

The look would suggest guitar or bass but classical instrumentalists were always dark horses, never looking like how they’d be expected to look.

Steve would need to see his other hand to confirm if there was any healed damage on his thumb, indicating years of holding a bow and to see what he had inked over the fingers there.

Not that he was interested.

He was staring at the guy's hand for too long, the tendons standing proud under his skin and Steve only snapped back to himself when the guy tucked the bill away into his back pocket.

“I would say I have more dignity than that but a blowjob is definitely not the worst thing I’ve ever done in an alleyway. But yeah. Not for twenty dollars.”

Steve could feel the blush rise up higher on his neck and if the expression on the guy's face was anything to go by, it was visible now over the collar of his polo.

“You alright there, sweetheart? You seem a little flustered.”

“Steve.” He supplied, clearing his throat and trying to push the redness back down. “My name is Steve.”

The guy hummed again with a grin. “Think I prefer ‘sweetheart’.”

“And you?”

“I’m partial to ‘baby’ myself.”

Steve uncrossed his arms with a shake of his head, unable to hide his smile while putting his hands on his hips.

“What’s your name,” he asked, before deciding to add on “baby?” At the end, with a tilt to his head, making his hair fall into his eyes and giving the guy, what Robin called, his puppy dog look.

The guy bit down on his bottom lip, the corner of his mouth ticking up and his eyes seeming to turn darker the longer he paused. “Eddie.”

“Eddie suits you.”

“I should hope so.” Eddie shrugged. “It’s the only name I got.”

“Baby suits you too.”

His eyes travelled up and down Steve’s body, leaving fire in their wake.

“Gotta say sweetheart, this is not how I thought this was gonna go when you grabbed me. Thought you were gonna smash my face in.”

Steve frowned. “I wouldn’t do that.” He dragged his eyes over Eddie again. “Wouldn’t be fair. Guess I was just surprised to feel your hand in my pocket.”

Even though he’d been expecting it, Eddie had managed to sneak up on him, which was not something he was used to.

Eddie’s smile dimmed a little and he sighed, pushing himself off the wall and beginning to wander aimlessly.

“Yeah.” He shrugged, lightly punching at the wall, expending energy. “Sometimes there aren’t a lot of options I guess.”

“Listen. I don’t know what kind of shit you’re wrapped up in but there’s always the option to get out of the game.”

Eddie swept his boot back and forth through the grime and dirt on the ground of the alley, leaving a tiny clearing in his wake. “If only that were true.”

“It can be.”

Eddie shrugged again now backing up towards the mouth of the alley. “Sometimes life doesn’t work out that way.”

Just before he got to the edge where he could disappear around the corner and into the crowd, he paused.

He regarded Steve with a tilted head before stepping forward again and taking Steve’s hand in his, raising it to his lips.

“See you around, sweetheart.” Eddie muttered into his knuckles before pressing his lips down, gentle and soft.

Steve let the blush take over his face this time, playing up the coy angle just a bit too hard but fixed Eddie with a cocky smirk regardless.

“I certainly hope so, baby.”

He was delighted to see a matching blush across Eddie’s face who exited the alley with a wink and then he was gone.

Steve reached up to his ear and switched his hearing aid back on.

“Oh good,” Robin’s voice came through a little bored, “you’re not dead.”

“No, I am actually dead, my ghost has just possessed the instruments monitoring my vitals to make it look like I’m still alive.”

“That’s alright then.” She sighed. “Less paperwork involved for me if they think you’re still alive.”

Steve hummed in agreement, finally leaving the alley with a quick glance up and down the street but Eddie was well and truly gone.

“So what happened with the guy?”

“We talked a little, I gave him some money and told him to get out of whatever game he’s in.”

He was close to his apartment building, he was surprised to find.

He’d been an auto pilot, paying more attention to Eddie following him than he had been where he was going.

“That’s it? I would have expected better from Slut Harrington.”

“You’d prefer if I told you the guy fed me his dick?” Steve asked, stopping in front of the entrance to his building and using the subtle biometric security to get in. “Or worse, you’d prefer to listen in? Wow-”

Robin’s screech nearly blew the side of his head open.

He was glad he had made it into the elevator by then because the shockwaves sent him reeling backwards into the metal walls like he’d been punched.

He heard the ding and the whir of metal as he started moving up towards the top floor.

“Jesus tap dancing Christ, Birdie!”

“You deserved it! I remember Steve! I still remember the last and only time I nearly heard you get your dick into-”

“Then don’t get pissy when I tune you out!”

Robin huffed. “I will never get those sounds out of my head.”

“People would pay good money for those sounds.”

“I’m sure they would but I am not one of them.”

Steve didn’t respond, just let out a heavy sigh as he exited the elevator and crossed the short hallway to get to his door.

He put his key in his lock and his hand on the handle at the same time, waiting just a second for the scan to complete before he heard the multiple locks and bars in the thick door click open allowing him inside.

If there was one perk to working a life threatening job that regularly got him injured for a non-governmental international agency resulting in almost no personal life, it was that the pay was really good.

Steve had grown up around money, he was used to it. But that money had been stuffy and came with so many strings attached. This money was his money and he got to do what he wanted with it.

And what he wanted didn’t involve soulless art pieces and ugly as fuck chandeliers just because they were in some magazine that his mother read.

Steve’s space was mismatched. He decorated with pieces he liked the look of, regardless of whether it all ‘went together’. He was the only one living here so he wasn’t going to decorate according to anyone else’s standards. He’d been doing enough of that throughout his life already.

His furniture was vintage or artisan in nature, found in tiny little antique shops hidden away in corners or crafted by small business owners who loved what they did.

The front door led directly into an open plan living/dining/kitchen space. The floor to ceiling windows facing the park had been heavily altered. Thick enough to not let any sound or bullets through and made to obscure the view enough that a person would need to be pressed right up against the glass to see in, even though Steve could see out clear as day.

Steve’s apartment was the go-to venue for any kind of game night, the Super Bowl, playoffs, the World Series, they were all hosted here. His TV and sound system were unparalleled.

He’d made sure of it.

The couches were solidly framed but Steve wouldn’t have gotten them if they weren’t also the most comfortable ones he could find. One of them had to be reupholstered and none of them matched but he didn’t care.

Lucas always got pride of place in the middle with Steve while the other sports-heads, Robin and surprisingly El, took up the remaining space at either side of them.

Everyone else was happy to sit along the sidelines, mainly there for the food anyway.

Even all the pots and pans in his kitchen were a hodgepodge of whatever he found. Vintage copper and well aged cast iron lined the walls.

The only things he’d conceded to buying new were the electrics.

And then there was all the spy shit.

But that was a given. It was mostly functional stuff, hidden safes and compartments to keep documents and hard drives secure. Multiple concealed pockets and nooks containing a variety of small handheld weapons. The odd button here and there to enable or disable the silent alarm.

And the safe room, hidden behind the bath that only Steve knew how to get into or that it was even there. Robin didn’t know. The higher ups at work didn’t know. Hopper didn’t know.

Maybe that was just a little too much paranoia, even for him, but paranoia had never steered him wrong before.

“Okay Birdie.” Steve flopped down face first onto his couch. “I am officially clocking out. Will I see you this weekend?”

“If this date goes well, hopefully not.”

“Go get her, tiger. I believe in you.”

“I believe in me too.”

“That’s the spirit.”

They said their goodbyes, Steve hoping against hope that Robin and this new girl worked out.

She deserved something good in her life.

He tried to distract himself by making dinner, showering and bingeing that TV show she insisted he had to watch (Ineffable Husbands or whatever it was called) but his mind kept wandering back to big brown eyes and soft plush lips.

Steve rapped the remote against his forehead a few times, trying to drive the thoughts away but they wouldn’t go anywhere.

Robin had jokingly suggested that Steve was going to recruit Eddie into the fold and it wouldn’t be the first time, if it ever did happen.

Honestly, if it helped pull the guy out of whatever situation he’d gotten himself into, why shouldn’t he?

There were probably a thousand reasons to not drag Eddie into Steve’s dangerous world but just the thought of those eyes and that smile being directed at him again would have Steve doing almost anything.

Part 1 AO3

@geekymagicalpotato

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for the magnificent beta work and to the STWG for their motivation.

This fic is about 70% complete and is currently clocking in at just under 40k so far. I love this story so much, it has taken over my life in the best way.

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #penny00dreadful #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #fanfic #pennys anniversary event #spies au #spy steve harrington #tw guns #tw murder #robin buckley #guy in the chair robin #cat and mouse spy fic

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weirdlookindog · 8 months

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Dracula (1931) R-1947

#dracula 1931 #bela lugosi #universal monsters #1931 #1930s movies #tod browning #universal horror #classic horror #title lobby card

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lobbycards · 2 months

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Aliens, US Title Card. 1986

#Aliens #James Cameron #Lobby Card #Lobby Cards #title card

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northern-passage · 7 months

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this past week (october 1-7) was banned books week. last year, censors targeted a record 2,571 unique titles, a 38% increase from the 1,858 unique titles targeted for censorship in 2021. the majority of these titles were written by or about members of the LGBT community, Black people, Indigenous people, and other people of color.

[source]

recently, back in July, we saw Mississippi ban Hoopla & Overdrive for people under the age of 18, restricting young people's right to read and their access to library resources. this is likely going to continue as more parents lobby for "parent's rights" (aka the right to treat their children as property) and pressure school boards to remove certain books from the education system.

but there are people that are pushing back against these restrictions: Leah Johnson, author of You Should See Me in a Crown, has spoken out vocally against book banning as well as her experiences as a Black queer woman. she's also opened her own bookstore, Loudmouth Books in Indianapolis, which will be a haven and spotlight for marginalized voices and controversial literature.

George Johnson, author of All Boys Aren't Blue, has joined the PEN America vs. Escambia County School District to challenge the removal and restrictions of books from school libraries within Escambia County, Florida.

There are also multiple library systems across the country that have joined the Books Unbanned program, which offers free digital library cards to anyone age 13-21.

Brooklyn Public Library: ages 13-21, anywhere in the U.S.

Seattle Public Library: ages 13-26, anywhere in the U.S.

Los Angeles County Public Library: ages 13-18, California only

Boston Public Library: ages 13-26, anywhere in the U.S.

[source]

a lot of these book bans claim to be for the "safety" of children, but that is simply not true. these book bans target LGBT literature and Black literature indiscriminately. this does not protect children, it endangers the most vulnerable of them.

Gender Queer, by Maia Kobabe, was the top banned book in 2022. You can find the author here, where e reflects extensively about the current book bannings & advocates for children's right to read as well as the rights of other banned book authors.

Some of the other most banned books of this past year also include (in no particular order):

The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison

This Book Is Gay by Juno Dawson

The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas

The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky

Sold by Patricia McCormick

Maus: A Survivor's Tale by Art Spiegelman

Lawn Boy by Jonathan Evison

Melissa by Alex Gino

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

Push by Sapphire

at the end of this banned books week, we should continue the conversation and support for marginalized authors and diverse literature, especially for children, in schools & libraries. get involved at your own local library, talk to your children or your siblings or your nieces and nephews, attend their school board meetings, and contact your representatives and speak out against book censorship.

#resources #banned books week #personal

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vixentheplanet · 10 months

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endless (love)

“I know, I've found in you my endless love.”

shuri x black!reader | 18+

Summary: Nine years after a drunken love confession.

heiress series: 1. heartbeat | 2. afterglow

word count: 5k

themes: heiress reader, marriage, babies, reader is a nervous mommy which is okay, therapy, trauma healing, fluff, and smut.

warnings: mentions of drugs, panic attack, fear of abandonment, and sex.

dedicated to @shurislover because you’re so sweet omg 🥲🩷

hi ✨- i think that’s all of them…. illicit nights part two never going back up btw lmao i have to find the energy to rework that

The limo driver barely comes to a complete stop in front of the starry Esmé sign before you rush the door open, nearly knocking down the valet who had anticipated to be the one to open it for you. "I'm sorry!" you exclaim hurriedly without turning back. You had one thing on your mind, and you were almost there. You enter the rotating door without having to identify yourself to the police and Dora Milaje stationed outside.

Even with the heart-shaped herb's advantages, Shuri couldn't keep up with you as you strutted across the lobby. You're sure people were gazing at you with wide eyes as they recognized who you were—Hotel Heiress, Queen of Wakanda (one of them), and a new title that had you trending online all the time. Yet you were a woman on a mission, and nothing could deter you except the elevator wait time.

A frustrated grumble escapes your lips as you tap your feet impatiently on the carpet. "Fucking asshole," you mutter, continually hitting the button as if it will make the doors open faster.

—

You were so lost in contemplation that you failed to notice your wife's efforts to keep up with you. Shuri looks worriedly at you and says, "Y/N. My love, you must relax."

"I'm fine—can this elevator move any faster? I'm going to sue whoever built this elevator. Oh my-“ The elevator chimes, interrupting your tirade, and you rush into the gold cart, scanning the key card before pressing the button to move it.

A hand massages calming patterns on your bare shoulder while you're dazedly viewing the numbers on display above. "Look at me," your wife urges softly. "You have to breathe, Y/N," she says, making you aware of how tight your chest is, but you can ignore it.

The strain of the evening starts to break free with a deep sigh as you stretch your shoulders. You were back in New York on official business, which meant that you weren't interested in anything that didn't need your direct participation as Queen of Wakanda. Amaya and her boyfriend, on the other hand, had asked you and Shuri to dinner tonight.

Amaya wanted to introduce you to her new partner, but you refused. "If they're still together the next time we visit New York, we'll know it's serious and worth leaving our children." You argue, putting emphasis on the last word. Shuri was having none of it.

Your therapist and wife noted how often you needed to be reminded to maintain the equilibrium between motherhood and your identity—the importance of embracing this new aspect of your life while still having fun.

"No, this is their first time here. It's unfamiliar territory, and we've been gone for some time. God alone knows what's going through their heads. They’re probably so confused.”

First, you said no, but after a long stare-down and Shuri's insistence, you eventually agreed—though not without a few safety precautions. The infants had grown used to the safety and security of the Wakandan Palace. So, did you ask that police officers identify everyone entering and exiting the building? Yes. Did you call Marco from the bar and urge him to come to babysit the twins? Yes. Were the Dora Milaje stationed inside the penthouse, outside the elevator, and at the hotel's front door? Yes, as well. Everyone understood that it was best to take the extra step of caution, and they wouldn't dare argue with you.

Maybe you were being overprotective, but you were not taking risks with the hotel's penthouse housing the children of the Èsme Heiress and Black Panther, Queen of Wakanda.

You remember the ultrasound during your first trimester. The doctor made the happy announcement that you were carrying twins. In your state of astonishment, you recall telling the doctor, "Two? We only asked for one.” Alternating your gaze between the screen and Shuri, whose eyes were as wide as yours.

The twins may have come as a shock, but they are the best present the universe could provide to you and your wife. The feelings of love, affection, and protectiveness were intense, to the point of being nearly overpowering. You became their mother the second you touched your babies.

Vatusia and Vian Esmé-Udaku.

Their hazel-brown eyes looked directly at you, and as unmistakable as anything you've ever encountered in your life, they declared, ‘I'm entirely vulnerable. I need you.’ You'd never felt more important. The sheer sense of urgency caught you off guard. Yet only for a brief moment—a billionth of a second at most. You returned their gaze and signaled in every manner conceivable, ‘I've got you. I'm not going anywhere.’

"They're protected," Shuri reassured you on the way to the restaurant after everything was in place, but your body refused to ease. Even on the ride back when you knew you'd soon be holding your children again. It needed to be more. You have to see them. For them to see you and know you were still there. You hadn’t left.

You step out of the elevator, ready to sprint through the corridor to the entrance, but Shuri's unexpected grasp on your wrist stops you. For a split second, you feel betrayed, not understanding why Shuri wanted to keep you away from the twins for yet another moment or two. She opens her mouth to speak, but you immediately cut her off. "Can we talk about whatever it is inside?"

The queen shakes her head. "The twins are safe, Angel. There would have been communication if that were not the case. We're standing right outside the front entrance. However, you remain anxious. You're not being completely honest with me about how you feel."

The words of Shuri cut deep, rendering you silent. Shuri was correct. You were afraid to say it aloud, but you understood why you felt the way you did. It was ridiculous to believe you could hide anything from the woman you'd been with for ten years. You could tell each other's feelings and nonverbal signs without saying anything. When you surrender to her embrace, you take a deep breath and look up into her eyes. Those who meet yours are looking for you to say what's on your mind, and they won't stop staring until you do.

Dr. Faraji often stressed the importance of vocalizing your thoughts to your wife. The importance of when you're feeling low, lean on your partner for a bit of support. She was right. Shuri always helps bring you back in touch with reality and energizes you with words of encouragement.

"They've never been in the penthouse before, and I'm not there. I don't want them to think I abandoned them," you whisper in the last sentence, your anxieties forcing you to bite your lower lip.

The pained expression on Shuri’s face at your confession makes your heartbreak. She’s in your space, consuming the entire area between you as a palm caresses your weary features, relaxing instantly. "Y/N," she replies firmly. "You are not your mother," she explains.

You look down, breaking eye contact. "I know. And still, I can't stop thinking about my childhood and experiences. I don't want them to feel that way even for a second." They wouldn't recall these times today since they were only a few months old, but they still had emotions and consciousness. Your memories of your younger self are vivid—a child who failed to receive constant loving or caring attention. You were unable to build close relationships when your mother abandoned you, leaving you with continuous tension and worry.

Gentle fingertips on your lower back entice you to avoid the traumatic past. "Y/N, such an assumption will only bring you down. You should be present. In current time with our beautiful family." Tender lips gently press on your cheek. "You and our children are a blessing to me. "You're an amazing mother," Shuri adds, and the sediment warms your body.

The tightness in your chest dissipates as your attention is drawn to the love of your life. "You are, too," you assure her, although you always tell each other this. Shuri adjusted to parenting faster than you did. It could be because she's constantly evolving and adapting to new conditions. Motherhood was no different; it was simply more permanent.

Above all, she was crucial for the kids and you. You felt a lot of stress and emotional drain as a mother. It's one thing to be a first-time mom, but it's quite another to be a first-time mom of two. The fear that you would forget something or make a mistake had become stronger. Your thoughts were so chaotic with all the worst things that may happen that Shuri had to make you stop and think about the good things.

Shuri was a calming presence in what can be a tumultuous and perplexing world—increasing your inner strength and being the rock on which your kids can depend.

When you were working through your abandonment issues with your therapist, Dr. Faraji questioned, "Would you ever want to experience motherhood?"

The question takes you by surprise. You pause for a moment to consider your response before speaking again. “I wouldn’t want to fuck up. One misstep and your child is wearing a dress that is just fabric. Snorting cocaine in Ibiza," the phrases are so raw and honest that you can't help but chuckle uncomfortably. The prospect of your child being anything like you is horrifying.

Regardless of how painful your statements are, Dr. Faraji smiles. “You didn’t say no,” she notes, and you blink. You didn't say no since you hadn't considered having children, but now that she's brought it up, your primary concern is whether you'd be a decent mother. "I sense a lot of anxiety surrounding the matter, which leads to confusion, but I have to ask. Is your marriage to your wife similar to your parents?"

The notion of comparing your parents to what you and Shuri have caused your brows to wrinkle. "God no," Your father was never able to be present during his marriage to your mother. Marriage requires effort. You were aware of this, so when the subject came up, you explained to Shuri that you wanted time to think things through first. Even though you were certain that Shuri would be at your side for the rest of your life, you still worried that some of your past trauma might seep into your relationship and cause problems down the road. Shuri encouraged you to see a therapist, and through her networks, you were able to see Dr. Faraji, a leading clinical psychologist in Wakanda. Once you came to terms with your history, you recognized you couldn't let the old you keep you from progressing.

"We're not like them at all." Shuri makes you feel intelligent, charming, gorgeous, creative, and like your best self. She helps you to flourish by highlighting and enhancing your best qualities. There are aspects of you that she understands that you simply can't put into words.

The atmosphere surrounding Shuri is warm and inviting, just as it should be with the person you hope to marry or spend the rest of your life with. You have discovered a level of safety in each other and the future. Following the wedding, you realize that the two of you are more evenly matched than ever before, and you wonder why you ever questioned otherwise.

It's not uncommon for Shuri to find you looking absentmindedly at your ring, at which point you proudly inform her of your good fortune in being adored by her.

Dr. Faraji directs your attention away from pleasant recollections and onto the current subject matter. "Yes, you can't let your upbringing's fear keep you from pursuing the things you desire in the future. Imagine your life if your heart had not subconsciously yearned for love?”

Given all of the drugs, drinking, and partying. "I'd most likely be dead," you confess. Your lifestyle was unsustainable, and Shuri should not have fit in, yet she did. She literally and metaphorically saved you that night. Life is love. A human being cannot exist without love. Shuri brought new life into you by loving you.

“But you’re here. You've evolved into a brilliant woman, a prominent design and political figure, and an excellent wife."

When your therapist recited your many successes over the last seven years, you choked back the question, "Are you trying to make me cry?" I don't have time to redo my makeup after this since I have a very hectic schedule." Dr. Faraji is not offended by your forthright demeanor. I was aware of your aversion to showing your feelings.

She chuckles as she adjusts her eyeglasses. “No, I am not trying to make you cry, Y/N. My point is that you shouldn't allow your history to prevent you from attaining what you want. And, if it's any consolation, I believe you and Shuri would make wonderful parents."

Perhaps Faraji had psychic abilities since she was spot on. You and Shuri are both excellent mothers. Two years later, you gave birth to your children after much preparation and consideration. Two lovely representations of the love you and Shuri have created. Building something in which elements of the two of you can exist in your children.

There you are, where it all began holding onto each other. You're standing in the center of the hall, embracing each other tightly as Shuri gives you time to catch your breath. Shuri sighs contentedly, a little chuckle escaping her lips. "What is it?" you inquire.

“I remember getting your drunk voicemail, and the only thing running through my mind was, ‘Go get her.’ This ache in my chest, that if I didn’t get to you as soon as possible, I would lose my chance.” You grimaced at the thought of that night, but you were always thankful for the courage of your intoxicated self all those years ago. “Stop bringing that up,” you groan.

Shuri shakes her head, still fond of the memory, “It was the start of our love story. Now, I’m walking down this hallway with my wife and two children waiting for us. Life is a funny thing.”

You smile when she mentions 'my wife' and the world you've created together. A future you never expected to have, but you're so thrilled it's yours. Shuri is all yours. "You saved my life," you say quietly.

"You are my life," Shuri responds, kissing your forehead. “You’re the greatest gift Bast could ever bestow upon me.” And just when you thought it was impossible, you fell even more in love.

You press your lips together and give each other a brief kiss. "Come on, let's go put the babies to bed," you say, and Shuri agrees, relieved that your panic has eased. As you walk down the corridor, you pull apart yet keep your hands entwined. You are greeted as soon as you go through the entrance and into the living room. Vian is the first to notice his parents dropping the block he was holding and crawling from the playmat.

You crouch down instinctively, allowing Vian to crawl into your arms with wobbly movements before lifting the soon-to-be one-year-old in a solid grasp. You missed your children. "Hello, my little bear," you coo, tickling the delicate skin beneath his chin. Vian reacts instantaneously, soft joyous cries from his tiny lips.

You feel overwhelmingly happy whenever you hear your baby boy laughing. “Silly boy. Were you good for Marco?” You ask in a sing-song tone.

The man in question gets off the sofa. “Perfect angels,” Marco insists, cradling Vatusia in his arms. The young child was content until she discovered you and Shuri had returned. Your little girl reached out for Shuri with grabby motions, her eyes pleading for comfort from her mother.

Shuri sprang into action without hesitating, moving at lightspeed to take Vatusia. "Did you miss me and Mommy, Tutu?" Shuri coos, lovingly brushing her nose on Vatusia's button nose. Vatusia's loud and cheerful giggles echo through the room while Vian lays his head on your shoulder after his bout of laughs. On the other hand, his sister was a very active baby who constantly sought stimulation and enjoyed exploring. Vian was calm and easygoing. He could doze off anyplace and be content to play by himself. He watches everything around him but rarely demands attention, though, of course, you shower him with unending love and affection.

"Thank you very much, Marco."

“Yes, thank you.” Shuri agrees, having grown comfortable with the older man. Marco's wedding speech was a crowd favorite. "We would not be here today if I hadn't found the pen successfully." The guest went wild with amusement at his story. Marco was the only person you could entrust your children to outside of the Dora’s, though you soon discussed hiring a nanny whenever you returned to work.

"Anytime," the man says, beaming as he observes your miraculous transformation.

You're rocking Vian slowly while massaging small circular patterns on his back. "You have to operate a hotel. Get back to work,” you joke. Recognizing the promotion you gave the former bartender.

Marco humors you with a salute. “You got it, boss.” At Marco’s dismissal from the penthouse, the Dora’s stationed inside nod and leave, leaving you and Shuri alone with your children.

You take slow steps to your wife, ensuring not to disturb the baby boy in your arms, and smile at your joyful daughter. You lean in for a kiss on the forehead and tell her, "We missed you too, baby." The brown-eyed girl cackles at the reception of your love, and it’s the most precious sound you’ve ever heard.

Later after you’ve changed, having let Shuri go first, you return to find her lying in bed. Vian peacefully rests on her chest, his little mouth creating a slight pout. Vatusia lies cradled on her side, not quite sleeping, but a small yawn escapes her lips as her eyelids droop. The babies are dressed in pale blue Christian Dior onesies that your brother purchased. Your heart melts at the view. "Do I need to put them in their crib?" You ask. The twins had separate beds in their nursery in Wakanda, but for this short visit, you chose a single crib to hold them both. They're still relatively small.

“In a little. I want to make sure they sleep well before moving them.” Shuri’s tone is hushed so as not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere.

Always so attentive. “Okay.” You climb into bed, cuddling on your side to watch the scene until Shuri needs your help getting the restful babies to their bed. You can't help but reach out to lightly stroke Vatusia's silky hair so as not to startle her.

Shuri's words about the significance of being present come to mind. That was a journey, and you had to be patient with yourself. Mindfulness is a technique that trains you to look for happiness in the present rather than dwelling on the past.

You block off any outside influences that can distract you and give your full attention to the now. Vatusia twitches slightly and breathes shallowly. A deep sleep should come quickly to her soon. Apart from the rise and fall of his chest, Vian is fast asleep, calm, and motionless. It's so easy to become absorbed in the tranquility of these two beautiful beings that are a part of both of you, literally made of you.

You raise your gaze to Shuri, who is already looking back at you. The expression on your face is sufficient to convey your emotions. You still have to say it. But Shuri beats you to it: "I love you," she exhales.

And you don't hesitate to return the sentiment. "I love you."

The day you had started routinely. You and Shuri woke up beside each other. Griot alerted you the moment the twins woke up, opening the door connected to your bedroom.

As you look down at the sleepy baby girl stirring awake, you notice an irregular pattern with her breathing. Nerves rise. “Do you think Vatusia’s breathing is weird?” you ask your wife, who was busying herself with gathering Vian.

Shuri frowns, pausing to listen to her child’s breathing before calling out, “Griot, what’s Tutu’s oxygen levels.”

The AI responds immediately, constantly tracking the twin's vitals. “Princess Vatusia Esmé-Udaku’s oxygen levels are sustaining between 95-100%.”

“And her respiratory rate,” Shuri inquires, bending down to retrieve Vian from the Vibranium crib.

“20-40 beats per. The normal range for infants.” Griot answers.

Even though you weren’t a doctor, you knew enough to understand the message; Vitusia was okay. “Please inform me immediately of any desaturation or if her rates decrease or increase outside the normal range.”

“Of course, Panther.”

Shuri turns to face you, holding a half-awakened Vian in her toned arms. Her clothing is securely clasped in her tiny fingers. It's adorable. Your wife assures you, "She's perfectly all right," You sigh in response. You were doing it again. Carefully picking up the young Princess, you say, "I'm sorry."

“You’re trying to give Mommy a heart attack first thing in the morning. Aren’t you?” You tease, using your customary high-pitched voice when speaking to the twins. Vatusia is wide awake now, chuckling as you press lips into her neck.

While taking in the scene before her, Shuri finds herself unable to suppress the grin that has formed on her face. "Please do not apologize. Never regret your concern for the well-being of your angels, sweetheart." How did you get so blessed to have someone in your life who is so supportive and understanding? "Come on, you have a big day today," Shuri said quietly, kissing your lips.

Understanding how busy today would be for you and Shuri, the new nanny collected the twins after breakfast. You had to put your thoughts back into work gear once the babies were out of sight. You had a few virtual sessions with the North American Chief Brand & Communications Officer and the Executive Committees.

Your job was Esmé's Head of Interior Design, but you'd recommended to your father that some of the most popular hotels and resorts include an on-site kids club and babysitters. The new granddad was overjoyed at the prospect. You expected to be needed as Esmé's Head of Interior Design throughout the construction stage, but your father urged you to take the initiative on the project. It took some persuasion from your wife and Dr. Faraji because it meant spending less time with Vatusia and Vian after sitting down and carefully adjusting your schedule. A great team supported you and handled everything well during pregnancy and maternity leave. Unless it was for critical choices or meetings, you felt comfortable relying on them.

The first task you'd assigned to the global Esmé teams was to collect statistical data to determine which resorts had the highest number of guest check-ins with children. You held a few meetings and came to the conclusion that you and your team would analyze the data before picking which hotels to upgrade first. Establishing on-site kid's clubs or hiring babysitters can provide parents with much-needed respite any time of day or night. Activities for children of various ages are planned at these supervised daycares. While you walked down the corridor to the playroom to check on Vatusia and Vian, you were filled with excitement about all the possibilities. Your wife appears almost unexpectedly. "Where are you going?" Shuri interjected.

"To see how the babies are."

"I went to the playroom, and they're great."

She didn't even wait for you to answer, instead using her enhanced strength to lift you with minimal effort. She's hauling you back in the direction of your bedroom over her shoulders. Shuri, perhaps due to your long marriage, intuitively understands the needs of her wife's body. There were moments when you needed it delicately and slowly as she showered you with compliments. Sometimes, like now, she'll change things by fucking you so hard that you can't even think straight. Hitting it from behind, you like you were a side chick.

It didn't matter how the monarch dealt with you. Sex with Shuri was always blissful; you were grateful to have it for the rest of your life. Call it cliché, but sex is a great stress relief for your hectic lifestyle. The rapid motions and powerful sexual satisfaction lead to an altered state of consciousness in which you can cognitively filter out all other inputs and concentrate your full attention on the sensations and emotional connection with each other.

“Keep your ass up for me,” your wife instructs, and you do as she says. "You want it so bad, huh?" Shuri teases, moving the tip back and forth across your entrance. You nodded, yes, yes, yes, because you needed it at this point—heat growing in the pit of your abdomen, yearning to be eased. Shuri smugly chuckles at your distress.

As she slips back in, keep your ass up in the air. Shuri pushes deep, her fingers digging into the flesh of your backside, and your breath hitches in your throat. Shuri leans back, seeing the length vanish inside your pussy. “Shit, baby,” she groans, and you sigh in relief at a stretch.

Shuri is standing upright while you are kneeling at the edge of the bed, legs spread apart, back arched artfully. The sheets' plush texture brushed across your sensitive nipples, and tits pressed into the mattress.

Covers shifted, eyes rolled in the back of your head; Shuri began with a combination of slow, hard trust. As though you were floating, your head was light, and every caress was exhilarating. Your spine was tingling with chills. It's a fantastic sensation as Shuri drives into you, clearing away all thoughts and emotions that don't serve your satisfaction.

You rest your head on your arms, refusing to press your face against the covers and conceal the moans that fall from your parted lips. Let the woman behind you know how good she was giving it to you. "You sound incredible. I love how you beg for me."

Your tone is low and somewhat distorted as you're overcome with ecstasy. You gasp, "You feel so fucking amazing, fuck me so well." The words have the desired impact on Shuri, who accelerates her hips and works harder to extract more exquisite noises from your lovely honey voice.

"You deserve it," Shuri adds, unable to contain her admiration for you.

The vibrations of Shuri's hips hitting your ass, the hard impact of skin-on-skin contact, and sticky squelches filled the room with each slam. “Pl…please. So close. Baby, keep going," you whimper, your core throbbing with white-hot pleasure.

Shuri, who is no longer interested in slowing down, takes complete authority, pounding into you with such intensity that your body shakes. You arch into the contact, crying out loud, grateful for the sound protection, even though anyone with common sense could tell what was going on when the two of you vanished. Shuri fucks you with enthusiasm, pushing you up the bed before she needs to grasp you and hold you in place.

When Shuri speeds up the pace, your mind is in paradise. Praising you for how well you take it. You can bet Shuri was thrilled to see how your ass jiggled when her hips touched it. One of her hands slides over your ass and kneads the smooth flesh, guiding you back against her. "Damn," she breathes. Her tone was hypnotic.

The hand freezes when you let out a long, loud scream deep inside your gut. “R-right there,” you manage to stutter out. Now, you press your face into the fabric and scream Shuri’s name. As soon as you alerted her, she was positioned to strike the nerve deep within you precisely. Shuri shifted slightly and then pounded extra vigorously.

The deeper the penetration, the more your muscles relax. Shuri understood exactly how to curve her strokes to leave you gasping, panting, and sweaty beneath her. Shuri knew you were about to orgasm because she had the profound awareness that only comes from long-term relationships, from lovers who are very attuned to each other's rhythms. Becoming conscious of your breathing patterns, response levels, small motions, and reflexes.

Shuri leans over, sweaty skin sticking together, whispering in your ear, "Cum for me, pretty girl. Let me feel it," her voice is alluring, and all you can do is obey her. Shuri's quick speed never slows, and she brings a hand to your clit to intensify your pleasure. "Don't stop, baby. I'm going to cum for you," you warn, pushing back on her. Knowing the sight was enough to drive her wild.

The rhythmic pressure provides a unified experience of ecstasy throughout your body. Your walls spasmed, tingles pricked your spine, and your toes curled. Your body shakes as a wave of convulsive feelings washes over you.

"Oh my goodness, fuck baby, yes," you babble. Your orgasm hits you, causing your entire body to tense up. Your lips form Shuri's name as you cum around the strap, sending a jolt of pleasure all the way down your pussy. "Yes, take all you need, my love," Shuri exclaims as her hard thrust extends your orgasm.

She won't stop until the room is filled with your cries and the slick sound of her stroking the cum back into you.

It's pure ecstasy.

115 notes · View notes

jessybarnes · 8 months

Text

All Of Me

Fandom: Marvel - Moon Knight

Pairing: Steven Grant x Reader / Marc Spector Reader / Moon Knight x Reader / Khonshu x Reader (Platonic)

Rating: 18+ Only!! Minors DNI!!

Tags: Angst, fluff, smut, monsters, injury, blood, crying, guns, fingering (female receiving), light restraint, wall sex, p in v, unprotected sex, explicit sexual content, explicit language, and I think that's it.

Word Count: 3,177

Beta(s): Just Grammarly and me

Written For:

@anyfandomaubingo - O4: Historical AU

@anyfandomangstbingo - I2: "Put. The. Weapon. Down."

@anyfandomdarkbingo - I4: Kindly Restrained

@anyfandomfluffbingo - N4: "This is where I saw you for the first time."

@badthingshappenbingo - O5: "Who did this to you?"

@thebo3bingo - G3: Vulnerability

@mfbingo - O5: Sharing Is Caring

@fandoms-writings - Remi's Neon Milestone Party: See writing prompts I used as a bonus below 🥰

Prompt(s): Used: "You shouldn't be out here by yourself." / "Let me kiss it better." / "What if someone hears us?"

Title Card: Yours Truly

You sigh as you check your phone for probably the thousandth time in the last ten minutes. Today is your one year anniversary with Steven, and you're supposed to be meeting him for a romantic indoor picnic at the museum where you met him. His plan was to let you in after he finished closing up the night.

Except he's late. He's never late.

You pull his contact info up and hit the call button, hoping he'll answer. It rings four times before going to voice-mail and that only makes the gnawing feeling in your gut worsen. His car's still here and it's well past the time his shift ended.

Deciding it's been long enough, you walk up the stairs and try the door. It opens and your brows furrow. It should have been locked from the outside over an hour ago. Slipping quietly inside, you adjust your purse on your shoulder and walk into the main exhibit area.

You've been in here before plenty of times, but the atmosphere is much different at night time. It's dark except for the small lights illuminating each of the exhibits and it casts a dim glow around them, their shadows appearing on the walls. It's almost...eerie.

"Steven?" You call. Your heels click on the tile floor as you glance around the room. "Steven, this isn't funny! You were supposed to meet me an hour ago!"

There's a noise in the distance behind you and you whirl around quickly. Fear creeps up your spine and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

"Steven, if you don't get out here right now I'm leaving!"

"You shouldn't be out here by yourself. It's dangerous."

You jump at the sudden voice behind you and quickly turn to see your boyfriend. Only he isn't smiling that goofy smile you fell in love with, and now that your brain has processed his statement, that's not his voice either.

"Steven? What the fuck is going on? What do you mean it's dangerous?"

He cocks his head and narrows his eyes, "I'm not Steven, and you need to keep your voice down or it might hear you."

You stare up at him, waiting for the part where he tells you he's joking, but it never comes. He's serious and you aren't sure if you're more fed up or scared at this point.

"Fine. If you didn't want to have our date then all you needed to do was say so. I'm not sure what this is," you gesture to him as you start to back away, "but I've had enough. I'm leaving."

You turn and walk back towards the entrance, but as soon as you get back to the lobby a low growl sounds to your right. Slowly turning, you see a monster that reminds you of something from a horror movie.

This can't be happening... this is a dream. You've fallen asleep outside on the museum steps and you're dreaming. There's no other explanation to what you're seeing right now.

Slowly, you begin to back up as it creeps towards you. Its long claws scrape against the floor as it bares its sharp teeth at you. Your back hits the wall and your breathing gets quicker as you realize you've got nowhere to go. You're cornered.

It lunges and you let out a high-pitched scream as you press yourself as far into the wall as you can. It all happens in a matter of seconds. The swish of a cape, the snarling of the beast, and the searing pain of one of its claws slicing your arm.

"Ah! Oh, my god! What the fuck?!"

"Get to the bathroom right now and barricade yourself in. Don't open the door for anyone but me, do you understand?"

You don't even answer him as you bolt for the back of the room. Even though your heels make it difficult to run, you manage to get inside and slam the door shut. Taking a second to catch your breath, you grab the bench and prop it up against the door before backing up against the far wall.

Your arm is cut, your hands are shaking, and you're not sure when you started crying. Carefully, you clean your wound and manage to stop the bleeding. It's then that you notice how quiet it is. There's no sound of a struggle or the deep growls of whatever the fuck that thing was, and you can only pray that it's gone.

The sound of the door handle jiggling startles you, and your heart begins to race again. Reaching into your purse, you pull out your handgun and cock it before pointing it at the door.

"It's me, let me in."

There's that voice again...

Steven doesn't have an American accent. His voice is soft and kind, not rough and deep.

"Yeah, no, I'm good thanks. You can leave and I'll see myself out once you're gone."

You hear him sigh.

"Listen, I know you're scared, but I need to look at your arm."

You're silent as you contemplate your options. He looks like your boyfriend, and he did save you, so maybe you should hear him out.

You keep your gun aimed true as you move the bench back to where it was before stepping back.

"Fine, but don't even think about trying anything funny."

You move back against the far wall again as he opens the door. Your hands shake as you keep your gun pointed at him, your cheeks still wet from crying.

"That's far enough. Don't come any closer!"

He puts his hands up, looking between you and the barrel as he inches towards you.

"There's no need for that, Y/N. The threats gone now. I won't hurt you."

Your heart begins to race faster, "h-how do you know my name?!"

Even though the person standing before you looks like your boyfriend, he's literally the exact opposite of how Steven would act. And now that you've witnessed that terrifying monsters can exist, you're not entirely convinced that this man isn't some form of demon or doppelganger.

He stops, closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them again they're those soft, loving eyes you fell in love with just over a year ago.

"Y/N, please...I promise I'll explain, but you need to let Marc look at your arm. I'm so sorry this happened on our anniversary. God, I feel just awful."

The grip on your gun loosens, but you don't lower it, "Steven? Baby, please just talk to me now. What's going on? Who did this to you?"

He gives you a sympathetic look before tensing back up, his eyes squeezing shut. When they open back up, Marc has taken over again, his stare hard and determined.

"Come on, Y/N. Cooperate with me here. I'm not going to hurt you, but I have to look at your arm."

"I-I don't..." Your voice shakes as you try to make everything make logical sense.

"Dammit, would you just listen?! Put. The. Weapon. Down."

The seriousness in his tone makes you wince, but you let the gun fall to the floor anyway. He steps forward, kicking it to the side as he slowly approaches you as if you're a wounded animal.

"I'm going to touch you now."

His words held no sexual intention behind them, so why did they make you squeeze your thighs together?

He's careful as he extends your arm. His calloused fingertips graze your skin as he inspects where the jackal-like creature attacked you. Finally, his eyes gaze into your own, but his hands stay where they are.

"Good. It's not too deep, and the bleeding stopped. It'll scar, but you won't need stitches."

The tension crackles between the two of you like static electricity, the negligent space separating you seeming to get smaller by the second. Any response you had is forgotten as your lips part and your eyes flit down to his mouth.

"Let me kiss it better." His voice is husky as he presses you gently against the wall, one hand still on your injured arm while the other rests on your cheek.

You want him to. God, did you want him to close the distance and kiss you, but the rational part of your brain keeps you grounded. Your tongue comes out to wet your lips anyway though, and the hitch in your voice proves Marc is having an effect on you.

"Marc, I... I'm with Steven..."

"We're one and the same, sweetheart. Though we have different personalities, we share the same body."

He moves himself against you, and you can feel the outline of his cock against your lower belly.

"And not to mention, Steven's had this beautiful body all to himself. Won't you share, baby? I know what you crave," his thumb brushes across your bottom lip, "I know what you need. Let me give it to you, Y/N."

"Let me talk to Steven." Your voice is breathy, and even though Marc has a point, you still wouldn't feel right about it without at least talking to the man you've loved for so long.

Reluctantly, Marc drops his hands to his sides and closes his eyes. When they open again, they look relieved.

"Oh, Y/N! Oh, my sweetheart..."

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you against him, his face buried in the juncture of where your shoulder meets your neck. His accent comforts you like a blanket, but even if it wasn't there, you knew by the softness radiating off of him that this was Steven. Your hands tangled in his hair as he kisses your cheek.

"I'm so glad you're okay. I was so worried something had happened, that the monster or Marc had done something and..."

He stops, noticing your hesitation, and pulls back to look into your eyes, "What is it? He's said something to you, hasn't he?"

You sigh and hold his hands in yours, looking down at them briefly before wetting your lips.

"This is where I saw you for the first time." You thoughtfully recall the day you two first met. Steven's personality and love of ancient artifacts are what drew you to him. Like a moth to a flame, you were instantly captivated by him, and from there your love blossomed into what it is today.

He tilts his head to side slightly as his brows furrow in worry.

"Darling, whatever he's told you l-"

"He wants you to share me."

His eyes go wide, "Oh."

You play with his fingers, a nervous habit of yours.

"I asked him to let me talk to you."

Steven stays silent for a moment, letting the words sink in. He didn't even have the idea on his radar that his other personality would want you, but then he shook the thought away as quickly as it came because why wouldn't Marc want you?

His sweet, brilliant girl who has the prettiest eyes and the most contagious laugh. The brave woman who would move mountains to protect any living being in trouble, and not to mention how gorgeous you are to him.

He knows you have fantasies. Ones that he's not comfortable enough to fulfill, but maybe...maybe Marc could, and that's his deciding factor. He's always wanted to give you everything you wanted, and if this is something you want, then he won't stop you.

"Y/N, look at me, sweetheart."

You bite your lip, glancing into his eyes to try and guess what he's thinking.

His hand cups your cheek gently, "do you want this? Do you want Marc?"

You shake your head, "not at the risk of losing you. I love you, Steven."

He leans in and kisses your lips softly, bumping his nose against yours lovingly.

"And I love you, but I also know that there are things you want that I can't give you. You're not going to lose me, okay? Think of Marc as another side of me that you can spend time with from time to time."

Before you can make sure he's absolutely certain about this, he steps back and closes his eyes again, only this time something new happens. Grey and off-white surround his body and when he opens his eyes they're a brilliant white.

You gasp and slowly back up until you hit the wall, "S-Steven? Steven?!"

"Don't be afraid, Y/N. I won't hurt you."

Your heart pounds in your chest as you hear Marc's voice again. Your eyes trail over the suit he's wearing. It reminds you of Egyptian clothing and the crescent moon emblem makes you want to reach out and touch it.

"Marc?" you whisper as he slowly closes the distance between the two of you again.

"I want you to see all of me. This is who I am. Moon Knight is a part of Steven and I too."

You reach out to tentatively touch his chest just as his gloved hand slides up your inner thigh. His fingertips brush against your panties making you gasp.

"I meant what I said before, Y/N. I know what you crave. Everything that you tell Steven, I hear too, and I can give you what you want."

He taps his fingers against your panty-covered clit lightly, and you can't help the moan that falls past your lips. "What if someone hears us?"

He chuckles, "baby, it's nearly midnight. We're the only ones here."

The last of your resolve disappears when the suit's mask dissolves away revealing his face. You kiss him fiercely and he lets out a low growl as he pulls your panties to the side.

"You're soaked, princess," he mumbles against your lips before pinning your hands above your head with his free hand. "Gotta keep you still."

You whine at his authoritative tone, but before you're able to say anything, he plunges two fingers inside of you.

"O-Oh, fuck!"

"Yeah? You want another one, Y/N? Think you can take three?"

Your eyes roll back in pleasure as you nod and another moan is ripped from you as he pushes a third finger alongside the other two, pumping them fast.

"You're close already, I can feel it. My pretty, little Moonbeam's gonna cum isn't she?"

"Oh, god! Marc, I-I'm-"

He kisses you hard right as your orgasm crashes through you, swallowing your moans.

"Good girl, baby. Can't wait to feel this tight, little cunt around my cock."

Marc pulls away and you sag against the wall, panting softly. Never in your life have you cum that hard before, or that quickly. The soft fabric of his gloves felt insanely good, and you found yourself wanting to feel them again.

"Please...," you beg, and he silences you with another kiss before picking you up and holding you against the wall. Your legs wrap around his waist as he frees his cock from the confines of his suit.

"Mine," he growls as he pushes himself inside you to the hilt. Both of you groan in unison as he holds you up with ease.

Marc fucks you hard, his thick cock stretching you as his hand still holds your wrists above your head.

"Fuck, you feel incredible...My precious Moonbeam was made just for me. Weren't you, baby?"

"Yes! Oh, Marc...please don't stop, please!"

A groan rumbles in his chest, low and primal, as he sucks love bites into your neck.

"Gotta make sure everyone knows who you belong to. Gonna litter your pretty skin with marks, baby girl."

You clench around him, feeling the familiar heat pooling low in your belly. The way he's talking to you, his confidence and possessiveness, and the way his cock hits your spot on every pass makes your head spin. You know you won't last like this, and the moment Marc reaches in between your bodies to rub tight, fast circles on your clit, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of bliss.

"That's right, Moonbeam. Cum. Cum all over my dick. Fuck, I can feel you squeezin' me. Come on, baby girl, let go for me."

His words send you falling over the edge, your lips moving against his with little finesse as you pant wetly against them. Marc grunts as his orgasm follows yours, thick ropes of his cum filling you.

The two of you stay like that for a moment before he sets you down on shaky legs. You fix your clothes and once Marc is finished getting dressed you smile softly at him as you lean in to kiss him again.

Just before your lips touch, the lights start to flicker and the walls begin to shake making you cling tightly to him.

"Marc! What's going on?! What's-"

"So, this is who you've chosen to distract yourself with, Spector." A deep, booming voice echoes throughout the room, but you don't see anything.

"Who said that?!" You bury your face in his chest, terrified something else might try to kill you today.

The shaking stops and Marc pulls you slightly back so he can look at you.

"Wait, you can hear him too?! Are you an avatar?"

"An avatar? Marc, what are you ta-" Suddenly, your eyes go wide as an enormous being appears in the doorway. It has to be at least eight feet tall, a bird skull is where its head should be, and it's holding a staff with what appears to be a crescent moon at the top.

You scream and look around for your gun, but Marc stops you.

"Whoa, hey, hey, it's alright. He's with me, Y/N. He's with us."

He turns around and positions himself in front of you anyway though, a deep scowl etched on his face, "What do you want, Khonshu?"

"You think because you helped me with one thing that I'm done with you? Don't forget who saved you, Marc. You're still indebted to me."

"We had a deal!", Marc growls.

"I'm aware, but we've still got work to do," Khonshu tilts his head so he can look at you, "and she's going to help us."

Your eyes widen, "me?! But I-"

"No! Absolutely not," Marc cuts you off as he steps towards him, "I'll help you, but she stays out of it. Don't involve her in this."

Khonshu chuckles deeply, "She doesn't have a choice."

"Like hell, she doesn't!"

"What do you mean, I don't have a choice?" You ask before stepping out from behind Marc. "What's going on?"

The bird-like being looks down at you, and you try not to be intimidated by how daunting he is.

"Do you have knowledge of Ammit?"

"Ammit? The devourer of souls?" You whisper. "But that's just a...a myth...right?

"Ah, it seems you're more competent than I thought. Good, you'll be of use quicker than I'd imagined."

Marc's voice cuts into your conversation before you can ask more questions, and you don't miss the hint of dread in it.

"Harrow's back, isn't he?"

Khonshu nods. "Yes, and he intends to unleash Ammit on the world." He pauses before pointing his staff towards you.

"And she's the key to stopping him."

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