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daddyricsdoll · 3 months

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False God ✭ Max Verstappen

Summary: Being lost spiritually isn't something you can brag about, but finding a new belief in someone is. From that alluring man in the F1 paddock to finding out he's the Max Verstappen didn't effect you as much as discovering his lips are your new religion even if it's a false god.

Warnings: The use of y/n!! (I used it 2-3 times), unprotected sex (what else could you expect from me?), teasing, reader is a virgin, mirror sex, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, creampie, praise, and use of names (good girl), also overstimulation and dacyphilia. I don't know if taking a photo of a naked person counts as a warning or spoiler, I guess it's both.

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Based off of this request. I would also like to thank @mrsevansxstanxobrien for saving me by giving me a perfect storyline for this. 🧡 And also all everyone who waited for this. I feel like adding more at the end, maybe a part two.

Never would I have ever thought I’d wear this dress. But I’ve been lost, and these girls are helping me become found. I’m not used to the material leaving my shoulders exposed and ending before my knees. Some of my family wouldn’t approve, but I feel… pretty. I would’ve worried that my place in heaven might slowly crumble but now, I don’t know.

I feel so happy and people are looking at me. In my little white dress, the one that hugs my torso and sways around my thighs, loose straps hung above my shoulders.

This feels like heaven. Being in a place I’ve never heard of with my friends as they pull me to different small buildings. “Come on!! We have to find any driver we can. If you see one, tell me!” Lissie smiles, eyes shooting everywhere just like my other two friends.

“I don’t know what any of the drivers look like.” I say my words with worry but chuckles lacing them.

“If you see a good looking guy with people around him, then tell me.” I laugh hearing others agree.

“Oh specifically if they wear red or orange- Ferrari and McLaren drivers, oh even Mercedes which is black.”

“Ok… I’ll try.” Feeling uncertain about this whole thing but I nod. Walking through the paddock and turning my head at every man that would emit a good thought into my head. They looked at me too and I prayed to god hoping it weren't for the wrong reasons.

My friends quickly spotted a driver and we all got photos and signatures, his name was Charles last I recall and now I understand one of the reasons he has so many fans. He signed my paddock pass in record time and then sent us a remarkable smile.

We had to leave him and those dimples to jog the other way for drivers who had just finished FP2, meeting so many as my friends explained to me the whole purpose of this.

Some drivers walked in pairs making it all the more easier for us to capture a second with them.

I was getting one of my friends' hats signed by a driver called George when my eyes left his hand, looking into the crowd all around us. Somehow locking eyes with a stranger, he then looked me up and down a small smirk on his face.

And I could only do the same, my eyes travelled down his body, his jeans that hugged his thick thighs and red bull polo tight around his shoulders then hanging around the rest of his torso. I became flushed and looked away for a second to gain composure but when I looked back he wasn’t there. It was like he was a dream.

“Y/n, you good?” Lissie asked, checking in on me as I hadn’t realised they started walking again. “Oh, um yeah I got distracted. So who else do we have to find?”

“Great question, so I heard that Max is around here somewhere, he might be gone but still keep an eye out for him. And Alex, I love him with my whole heart but our telepathy isn’t telling me where he is.” We both laugh and it feels so good, the afternoon soon reaching the evening. She checks her watch and then looks back at me. “Oh, we have 3 hours until dinner so we can go back to the hotel, do things there, eat, party and then we’ll be back here tomorrow. Sounds good?” I couldn’t say no to that plan so we ended up going back to the hotel.

20 minutes of swimming in the empty hotel pool turned into nearly 2 hours and now we were running a little behind schedule. We rushed to get ready, but oh didn’t we still look good. “We’re gonna meet the other girls there.” Lissie tells me as we get seated in the back of a taxi, adjusting her makeup. I nod, turning my head to look out of the window, I hold the cross around my neck fiddling with it whenever I get too deep into my thoughts.

I cast eyes on many people today but that one guy, from the way he looked at me with a light smirk to the smallest tingling feeling he sent through my body. It was as if he tried to make out my whole personality in one glance, if only I could’ve done the same.

The scenario plays in my head multiple times, each time I react in a different way– my default ways of a smile or being a whole different person by sending him a smirk, or calling him over.

I know I shouldn’t worry about that, if worried is a word close to what I’m experiencing. But my thoughts make the ride shorter and we both hop out of the car, wearing outfits suitable for a restaurant and a dirty club right after. We stood just outside the restaurant waiting for Leah and Milan.

Taxi’s drove past and dropped people off, each one we looked into searching for those two girls. Then suddenly a car made an abrupt stop in front of us. The windows were tinted and it limited our vision inside of the car. Just until the door opened and a partially familiar figure started getting out of the car.

His face came into view and so many emotions ran through me in that second that Lissies scream was the only thing that brought me back. “It’s Max Verstappen! Oh my god! Can I get a photo or a signature or anything?!” She rushes toward him, searching her bag and finding a pen. I was still in shock, he is Max Verstappen?

Next thing I know he’s standing in front of me. “Would you like a photo or signature?” He asks me so kindly, making me wonder if he was the guy whose eyes roamed my body then smirked at me like he knew exactly how I’d react.

“I-um sure. Well I don’t really have anything to sign.” And then a piece of paper is passed to me from Lissie. “Oh, thanks.” I grab it and hold it out to Max, watching as he stares at my face long enough to memorise every inch. He looks away to sign my paper, taking longer than I would’ve thought, but when he gives me that smirk from earlier everything leaves my mind. He then starts walking away, getting interrupted by other fans.

Each step he took further away I wanted to say something even more, call him back, talk to him. But why and what for?

My eyes look down at the paper, his signature, but I see some of the pen ink on the other side, flipping the paper over my breath hitches at what’s written. “Be a good girl” I read, my eyes then following an arrow that points to his number. I lightly squeezed my legs together and tried to force the pink off my cheeks. I couldn’t help but stare at it in disbelief before quickly folding it and shoving it into my bag. “You good?” Lissie asks me.

“Yeah, just surprised.”

“I know, that was really unexpected but luckily we all got something from Max. I got a photo with him as well he looked so fucking good in that suit.”

She was right, he did look so good and that feeling he made me feel, oh it was stronger than before but a small fire between my legs also grew. I just hoped it wasn’t lust, especially for a man I just learnt the name of. ✭

The next morning we were back in the paddock, me being the only one not partially hungover by the drug of alcohol. We started walking past the red bull hospitality, my eyes flickering over to the door praying to see that one man. But my prayer wasn’t answered as FP3 started and I only saw him on a big screen.

Once FP3 finished we stayed in McLaren hospitality for a little while longer waiting to catch a glimpse of the two stars with the fastest lap times. And to our luck both of the Mclaren drivers walked in, but they weren’t the only ones, Max Verstappen walked beside Lando in his dark blue drivers suit. I ran up to them with my friends, letting them congratulate the drivers as I stood back. Not noticing one of the drivers leave until a feather touch of a hand was on my back. “You didn’t call or text me. And I thought you were gonna be my good girl.”

I took a deep breath, somehow knowing exactly whose voice it was.

“It’s gonna take more than that. But tell me… what do you really want?” My voice firmer and somehow trying to gain confidence like his, soon feeling even more flustered when I hear his chuckle beside me. “What do I want? Oh honey, I want you.” My lips part, trying to control my breathing through my mouth. His finger comes beneath my chin and my head is lifted to the side to face him. His fingers trickle down my chin and throat, reaching the cross that sits barely above my cleavage.

“What’s this?”

“It’s um…” I became lost for words, knowing exactly what I would’ve said but I can’t say it to him. He deserves so much more.

“I’m not into this stuff, gods and everything. They don’t really do much for you, but you give them everything.” I shake my head lightly, trying to show my disagreement but not make him want to leave me.

“Oh? My good girl doesn’t believe me?” The fake surprise on his face teases me. “Would your god let me touch you? Would he let me make you cry from my dick?” Max brings his face closer to mine, just enough for his breath to touch my ear. His large hands run down my arms and he grabs a hold of my phone.

“Unlock it.” He commands me, crystal blue eyes hypnotising me. And without a question, I unlocked it.

“Now you have no excuse to not call me.” He shows me his number in which he just typed into my contacts, calling it to watch his phone start ringing. “Now I have yours.” He saves my number, looking back up at me. “Now won’t you tell me your name?”

“Why? You’ll only call me your good girl.” My lips move faster than my mind. Not recognising my own words.

“My good girl, trying to be someone you’re not. Now, tell. Me. Your. Name.”

“Y/n.” I say watching a pleased smile on his perfect lips. And then just like last night he leaves me there, standing thinking about something bigger than the whole world—him. ✭

Up came the race day, the one in which the whole place was filled, park passes, hospitality and grandstands. We came in earlier than usual after the girls all somehow noticed the end of me and Max's last interaction. Going crazy and asking if there’s something between us, what his hands feel like, if I’m his new wag and will I see him after this all.

I thought about that last question longer. I don’t know if god brought us together or maybe he’s something here for something else, but I don’t usually enjoy having no clue what’s going on, so I plan on finding out.

We find a seat in hospitality and when I finally gain the courage to send Max a text I see that he’s beat me to it.

‘You’re not my good girl anymore’

‘Why don’t you come to redbull and I’ll show you what you really are’

I become flushed at his words, squeezing my legs together. Checking the time he sent the message I curse at myself for not seeing it earlier. We have nearly half an hour left until the race and all the drivers are with their teams. I couldn’t possibly go now, so I blame myself for not being able to touch his skin or hear his voice before the race.

So instead I send him a text, replying to the ones he had sent.

‘How about you win the race and I’ll be your good girl’

It barely takes a minute for the message to turn from delivered to read. He starts typing then stops, typing again then stopping. He teases me with that for what feels like hours, until I finally receive something.

‘Be ready, once I’m done you won’t be able to say your name.’

I was speechless, leaving his message on read, letting him know he already stole all the words from me. I turn my phone off, watching the last few pre race interviews before I see Max walk past behind a crowd of people. A tiny smirk on his face, I smile knowing it was for me.

My emotions throughout the whole race were a rollercoaster. Watching a crash between 3 drivers had me praying they were all ok and that it would never come across Max. There were battles all over the circuit, Max managing to never be a part of any as he led the race. I was surprised at how fast the race went by, from complaining about the length of them to now letting the time run right past.

My friends pulled me away once the race ended, telling me we had to watch the podium. And I was glad I let them take me. I watched max from below, majestic being the word to explain him. He wore his suit and sweat trickled on him, hair swept to the side like always. His eyes so soft I couldn’t imagine he was the same man that threatened to make me cry from his dick. I’m not complaining but he looked so content, so happy with himself and he never had needed God's validation.

Everything in my head seems to become blurry, Max’s smile the only thing still keeping me here. I manage to find his eyes, remembering the blue of it from the first time. His lips change and I’m certain I see his signature smirk, just for me.

When both of the national anthems finish they start spraying champagne, becoming my queue to escape to the red bull hospitality. I didn’t have any clue where to go so I waited for him outside the building.

His teammate Checo walked past me, giving me a smile like I was any fan and then a crowd of people were making their way here. All following the man himself, Max Verstappen. He sees me standing there, that one smirk arises on his face before he whispers something to the woman beside him, probably his assistant or something, because once they reach me she smiles and then takes me to his driver's room as Max finishes with all the fans.

I take in the surroundings, the room being small but big enough to fit the things he needs. A decent sized bathroom and a mirror being the door of his cupboard filled with redbull polos, which seem to be the only thing he wears.

“You going through my stuff, doll?” I turn at the noise, seeing Max walk into the room and start unzipping his racing suit.

“No, you left me in a room alone, what else am I to do?”

He chuckles and walks closer to me, his suit now hanging around his waist. He comes closer, nearly caging me into the wall with his body. A few strands of his hair fell and now hang between the two of us. I have nowhere to go, not like I’d ever want to leave, but it’s not like he’d let me.

“I won.” He breathes out.

“And now I’m your good girl.” Max shakes his head, chuckling as his arm rests on the wall above my head.

“You’re not a good girl… but I’m gonna make you one.” He moves his head closer to mine, nearly touching my skin with his lips but he doesn’t make contact. Teasing me by going along my face and down my neck. So close I can feel his breath, but he never touches me. Trailing across my collar bone as I try to ease my breathing.

I lightly arch my back, bringing my chest closer to him, trying to force the contact. But then he stops. He grabs my pendant, the one of a cross.

“You’ve been worshipping the same man for years, would it bring you to hell to worship another? Let’s say… me.”

I don’t have time for a reaction as he smashes his lips into mine, taking my breath away. His hands cup either side of my face, holding me in place as he kisses my lips in a way no other person has before. My body writhes against the wall, having no clue what to do but touch him. Try and touch him in a way no person ever has and ever will.

That my religion is his lips.

I lean into his touch when his hand reaches up my shirt, not touching my breasts yet, but caressing the skin of my back and waist. Max groans into my mouth, lighting a fuse between my legs that I tried to keep out.

My nails dig into his shoulders, fireproof still tight along his body. I can’t control my body, wanting to feel every inch of him against and inside me.

“If you wanna be a good girl, then you can wait.” I whine at his words when his lips leave me. My chest still arched and body screamed with need. “I don’t want you to move.” He tells me, eyes a darker shade and voice commanding. I nod my head quickly, hoping the faster I am, he will be. “So needy.” Max chuckles almost as if he’s teasing me of wanting him so much.

He starts closing the gap between us, standing directly in front of me and looking down because of our heights. I grow accustomed to the heat his body spreads and the pink of his post-race cheeks. Falling for his looks before his touch steals my attention. His fingers slide down the side zip of my short skirt, pulling it down my legs until it reaches the floor. He pushes my legs apart with his foot and my pussy pulses with anticipation.

I observe him as his fingers don’t go close to where I need him, instead doing the job of taking my top off of me. I lift my arms up to help him, feeling the cool air of the room brush against my body.

“Take the rest off.” He tells me, standing back to watch my whole body. Eyes skimming me from top to bottom. My skin turned hot, a mix of emotions making me react in different ways. I nod, slowly taking my clothes off. Smiling to myself when I see Max brush a hand against the bulge in his suit.

Once my panties and bra lay on the floor Max finally comes back. Hands gliding down my arms and then intertwining with my fingers. He guides each of my arms above my head, giving him full access to my body. Making me more vulnerable than I’ve ever been.

The pads of his thumbs barely touch my nipples, forcing a whine out of my mouth and my chest to press into him. He pulls away immediately, draining his contact from me. And then he comes again, sliding his fingers over my nipples and I have to force myself to stay still.

Max’s fingers tickle down my bare body, he goes between my cleavage and caresses my breasts with the light touch of his finger tips. Soon going over my stomach and my lower abdomen. He delays the contact to my core and starts tracing my hip bones with each hand, slipping to my backside as he cups my ass with his hands.

“Fuck.” He mutters. Moving his hands from my backside to start lightly touching my thighs. Max advances to the inside of my thighs, spreading my legs a little wider, making it easier for his eyes and fingers. My lips parted long ago and breathing became uneven. Suspense ran through my veins as I felt the heat from his fingers approach my core.

I was certain my arousal was close to dripping on his fingers, and then he finally touched me. Not as firm as I wanted, but his fingers still make contact. Teasing my clit as his eyes are on me, watching as my bottom lip is drawn between my teeth.

The feeling was so new to me, I had never been touched by a man like this. Do I regret it, not really, because that would mean Max wouldn’t be the first.

A loud moan rips the silence of the room, the filthy sound leaving my mouth. His middle finger runs between my folds and I flinch at the feeling, letting the moan leave my mouth freely watching as Max smiles.

My climax surely builds up from his teasing strokes.

I then lose the feeling of his fingers, a cry leaving my mouth. “Be my good girl and show me how you make yourself cum.”

“I thought you were gonna make me a good girl. But I guess you’re not as good as I thought.” I slide my hand down my body, going down the trail between my legs. My eyes firm on Max as many emotions run across his face. I touch my clit and be sure to moan louder and longer than when Max touched me. My eyes were closed that I didn’t see as Max made his way closer, but his loud steps were enough.

My hand his forces off my body and held above my head. Max’s other hand now occupying the job he told me to do myself. He doesn’t take his time now. Thrusting two digits inside of me with force. “I’ll make you cum. Give me a number.”

“Three.” I whine out between each of his thrusts, focusing on the harsh face he gives me.

“Fuck, making it so easy for me. I already made you cum once.” He chuckles at the confusion on my face. Pulling his fingers out of me and showing me my cum that moves down them. I moan at the sight, then once again as he shoves them in his mouth. My eyes stuck on his tongue as he circles each finger. When he pulls them out of his mouth a string of saliva is hanging from his fingertip. I watch as he brings his digits closer to my lips, telling me to open my mouth to get a taste of him.

Max slides his fingers out of my mouth and drags it down my body.

“Let’s do something new” Max says as he goes on his knees. Kneeling in front of me and making my pussy throb. He doesn’t say anymore words as he forces my legs on his shoulders. I clench my pussy as his breath brushes against it in such a way it’s a drug.

The words slow, leisurely and gentle out of his mind as he starts eating me out. Like a starved man and I’m a whole dinner. The sensation of his flat tongue against such a sensitive part of me makes me crazy. My fingers diving into his perfect hair to ruin it.

He toys with my clit and slides his tongue inside of me.

It hadn’t taken long until I was reaching my release. Pulling at his hair with force and whining so loud I’m sure people outside could hear. But that only made it more thrilling.

“So quick. But I’m not done.” Max says against my pussy before going back in. Bringing me to surprise. He licks and sucks all my cum, fingers coming back to ram inside of me as his tongue toys with my swollen clit.

He made tears come to my eyes and a moan mixed with a whine to leave my mouth as I came another time. Even more sensitive.

Max helps me get off his shoulders before standing up to peel every piece of fabric off his body. Once my eyes laid on his skin I could truly say the suit doesn’t give him justice.

My mouth watered at the sight of his cock. Making me question how easily he would fit.

“Come here.” Max demands. And I do, walking up to him just for him to tell me to get on my knees. I grow nervous as his dick now sits in front of my face and as I’m about to grab it Max tells me to do something completely different.

“Go on your hands and knees. And face the mirror.” I quickly do it, seeing myself in the thin mirror. I look further up to observe Max. He grabs my hips, lifting them up so they're in line with his.

I hold my breath as he brings his dick to my entrance. Circling it with his tip and watching me through the mirror. He distracts me with his signature smirk and then rams inside of me. Bottoming out immediately. My mouth opens in an ‘o’ shape as he takes my breath away with his dick. Pulling out and then thrusting back in with more power. His skin slapping against mine and tip viciously hitting my g-spot.

Max leans forward and grabs my hair in a makeshift ponytail, forcing my head up. “I want you to watch as I fuck all the words out of your mouth.”

My vision blurred by the tears, but I make out our figures. My tears fall as Max drives his dick into me once again.

“That’s it. Cry over my dick. So. Fucking. Good.” He grits between his teeth at each thrust. I look at myself, being utterly ruined by a man I met a couple of days ago. He keeps my head up, not daring to let my eyes leave the mirror. His bottom lip is between his teeth and eyebrows furrowed as he keeps in his moans. Letting mine fill the room instead.

I can barely hold up my body as I get closer to my climax. Clenching around Max multiple times before I finally release.

A string of unholy sounds escape my mouth and it’s as if they set off Max, ultimately allowing me to hear him moan just as I had done before.

Max twitches inside of me before he releases. Swearing in dutch before calling me a good fucking girl. His cum fills and distracts me as he pulls out. Demanding me to stay there.

I expect to see him walk out with a cloth, but instead his phone. He angles the camera right behind me, capturing his cum that drips out of me and both our faces in the mirror.

My face holds confusion and he sees it, keeping a straight face.

“People usually have photos of their gods, something to look at when they worship it. And this is mine.”

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solarisfortuneia · 2 months

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— 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬.

and the smell of camphor dancing in the wind.

✦ info: he didn't know he'd lose you so soon. (come back, please. even if it is just for five more minutes.)

✦ featuring: alhaitham.

✦ warnings: angst, character death (reader), heartache, 1.2k words, somewhat proof-read.

✦ notes: i cried so goddamn hard writing this. why is my first work after hiatus pain. why did i pick up the angst wip. but!! i'm writing again, so that's good. (more notes at the end.)

he didn’t know that it was your last day together.

he didn’t know that the smile you gave him that afternoon, your eyes sparkling like sunlight upon the serene waves of the ocean, would be the last he’d ever see. that the playful light in your gaze would fade so very soon, slipping through his fingers like sand.

he didn’t know that last night would be the last time he held you close while you drifted off to sleep. he didn’t know that today would be the last time he’d wake up with you.

he didn’t think he’d lose you like this.

he didn’t think he wouldn’t be able to save you from that blow.

“please, please,” he begs, both to you and to whatever force that is just barely holding you together. “just stay with me for five more minutes, please. until i can get you somewhere.”

the rain soaks him to the bone, clothes and hair sticking to his skin. your lips stay motionless, eyes shut.

“wake up, please,” he bargains. “you can have all the five minutes of extra sleep you want later, i promise. just—” his vision blurs, and something shines on the ground before it is gone, swallowed by damp earth, lost amidst drops of falling rain.

desperately, he tears off parts of his traveling cloak to staunch the bleeding. deep inside, he knows it is futile. he knows your wound is too great. he knows what lies ahead. but he cannot help but press the cloths to your wound and pray.

please, please tell me it’ll be okay.

please stay with me, beloved. i’ll read you all the books in the world. i’ll sleep in with you everyday, even if we end up whiling away our time.

please. stay. stay with me. i can’t lose you yet.

“— just wake up, beloved.”

by some miracle, your eye flutters. just a bit. just enough to set hope ablaze, just enough for the grip on his heart to loosen a tiny bit. he buries his face in your shoulder, resting his head against your neck, uncaring of the blood that stains his clothes. your blood. on his clothes. his hands. everywhere.

no. no. this can’t be happening.

he feels you strain beneath him, your unwounded arm gently, weakly brushing his back. he jolts upright, eyes trained on your face. you send a frail smile his way. he clasps your face softly as you nuzzle into his palm.

“alhaitham—”

his full name. archons, how long has it been since you called him that?

“— take good care of yourself, okay?” you tell him, chest heaving, your fingertips touching a tear on his cheeks. “i love you. so much.”

those are the last words he hears fall from your lips. he presses a kiss to your forehead, to your eyelids, and to your cheeks and to your lips, over and over and over until he feels your breath slow, hoping they’ll say what he knows he cannot manage to choke out.

i love you.

he stays there next to you for who knows how long, holding you until the rain slows and a faint rainbow smiles in the sky.

until he can’t smell camphor anymore.

—

every person has their curiosities.

they’re just the little traits that set them apart from others, the things that make them tick just a little bit differently, the things that make them, them.

for instance, someone may be obsessed with collecting tiny furniture, while another eats the crusts off their sandwich before actually consuming it. someone may have an affinity for the most niche aspects of linguistics, while another can accurately predict the next raindrop that slides down a window pane.

after all, no two people are exactly alike, are they?

alhaitham knows he’s got his fair share of these curiosities himself. his aversion to soup and all things that resemble it, to name one. and with you, he’d noticed two things.

number one: the scent of camphor that seems to linger on every inch of your person.

he’d caught whiff of it almost immediately the first time you met. you were but one of his juniors in the akademiya, filled with bright-eyed curiosity and anxiety to match. you had tripped over a stair and bumped into his table in the library, bringing the mountain of books in your arms crashing down.

and with subsequent coincidental meetings, he learnt that the subtle scent of camphor dancing in the air meant you weren’t far away.

you were, unfortunately, one of the poor souls who seemed to be cursed with constantly recurring minor illnesses, and almost always walked about with a stuffy nose. and so, you always carried a small disc of camphor in a handkerchief, as well as in your pocket.

you swore up and down, left, right and center that sniffing the vapors helped make breathing easier.

‘it’s my grandmother’s remedy, alhaitham! camphor always works wonders. well, that and eucalyptus oil.”

alhaitham may not know the validity of your claim or the legitimacy of the cure, but he knew to never, ever question a grandmother’s remedy. that, and he’d much rather refrain from starting a back-and-forth about something so small.

and number two: your neverending pleas of different variations of ‘just five more minutes!’

“five more minutes, ‘haitham. please.” you’d whine grumpily when he woke you up to start your day. “let me sleep in for five more minutes.”

“five more minutes, habibi,” you’d ask when he put down the story you’d requested he read out to you before bedtime. “read me the part where she finds the music box?”

“five more minutes, baby,” is what you’d tell him when he asks how much longer you’d take getting ready. “you can’t rush perfection!”

those five more minutes were never five minutes long.

but he’d always, always indulged you and those pleading eyes of yours. as stoic as he appeared to be, you lived in his heart. of course he could never deny you anything under the sun.

—

alhaitham remembers that silly little song you sang over and over, the one you’d learnt from a kid in the bazaar. he’d taken you to see one of nilou’s performances, and, friendly soul that you were, you’d struck up a conversation with some of the eager audience members before the play.

“oh, how i wish i was a bird flying free,

i’d see the world, every mountain and every sea!

oh, how i wish i was a cloud in the sky,

wouldn’t you like to wave to me as i pass by?”

you’d hum that rhyme on every idle afternoon.

loss is inevitable. he knows that, with how logical and rational and straightforward he is. he’d lost his parents, but he was far too young to remember. he’d lost his grandmother, but she passed in her sleep of old age, serene and wise.

but you? he didn’t think you’d leave him this soon. a singular wish sits in his soul, making its home in his bones.

a wish that you’d come back, somehow.

he wishes you gave him five more minutes, just as he always did. but he knows that you could’ve given him five more hours, five more days, five more years and five more decades and it would still not be enough time spent with you.

a blue feathered bird comes to perch on his shoulder, interrupting his musings just as he raises his face to the sky. he sees the heart shaped cloud that floats idly above sumeru city.

he thinks of the rhyme again, and something in him tells him to wave. and so he does. a scent so familiar lingers, faintly brushing his nose in the wind that picks up.

“alhaitham, it's time to go.” kaveh calls his name softly.

alhaitham doesn't move. “five more minutes,” he says, echoing your favorite phrase. “i smell camphor in the breeze.”

✦ extra notes: my alhaitham characterization for this fic stems from how i believe that when alhaitham is attached, he's attached. so i focused more on that, and less of all that rationality and whatnot. this one loves deeply, yk?

that camphor thing is a real grandma remedy in our household (my mom would tie some in a hanky and put some under my pillow and still to this day reminds me to do it when i'm sick) which is what originally sparked the idea for this

when i'd initially started this wip, i didn't expect it go this way. usually i write with my brain, but i think i wrote this one with my fingers working faster than i can think hsjhsj so sorry if it's kinda out of place lmao but yk what? i'm happy with it still even though i feel like it doesn't have my usual quality.

thanks for reading.

#—🖋#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#astronetwrk #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #alhaitham x you #genshin x you #emotional blabbering ahead in the tags beware #this is hitting me in a place i didn't know existed hjsjs #like. i haven't lost anyone but i have lost my life as i know it?#this past year was full of so many endings and i've been struggling in some way everyday #like i didn't know that the last time i saw my friends would truly be the last time we ever saw each other #i didn't know that i'd be bidding goodbye to my parents as i left home through an airport #ANYWAY ENOUGH DUMPING. ig i'm just telling you to hug the people you love tighter and cherish every moment you spend with them #time goes by really quickly and you don't know where it'll go #ily guys #ew barf feelings </3 /j

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pawnshopbleus · 5 months

Text

The Morning After

Young!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Plinth!Reader

Summary - After the events of On Top, Tigris has a talk with Coriolanus.

Warnings - mentions of sex, fluff, not beta read

Author's Note - This is going to be very short and sweet because Thanksgiving break is ending and I have school tomorrow (I don’t want to go back. Someone please save me.)

The sun came up and shined over all of Panem. Its golden rays snuck through Coriolanus’s window, accentuating the curves of your body. Last night was one of the best nights he’s had in a while. He held you close, not wanting to let you go. He could stay like this forever. His skin could mend itself into his sheets and he wouldn’t care. As long as he had you by his side.

You stirred awake a little while later. Even though the sun was up, Coriolanus’s room was still cold. You pulled the sheets closer to your body and yawned.

“Good morning,” Coriolanus whispered as he kissed the naked skin of your shoulder.

You let out another yawn in response. “Good morning. What time is it?”

Coriolanus looked at the pocketwatch on his end table. “It’s ten in the morning.”

Your body shot up. You were supposed to be home two hours ago. Your mother had set up a meeting for you at one of the boutiques in the Capital. You’d expressed interest in working for your own money which made both of your parents proud. Little did they know that the money wasn’t just for you, but for your future with Coriolanus.

“I have to go,” you said as you threw your clothes back on. Your tardiness wouldn’t be appreciated, but nobody would care. No matter how much you don’t like it, rules don’t apply to people like you. People who could afford to buy ten boutiques and still have money left over.

You quickly kissed Coriolanus on the cheek before darting out of the Snow residence.

Coriolanus sighed as he craved the warmth of your body again. He wanted to know why you left his home so fast, but you would tell him. You always tell him everything.

Coriolanus sat up and stretched his sore muscles and joints. He followed your lead and put his clothes back on. As much as he loved you, he didn’t want people to know what the two of you shared last night. Fresh scratch marks lined his back, serving as a reminder of what had conspired only a few hours ago. He hissed as he ran a hand down his back. He was lucky that you had barely missed his stitches. He loved you, but you could be reckless sometimes.

He slowly opened his door, silently praying that Tigris and Grandma’am were still asleep. He checked around the corner and he couldn’t see anything or anyone. The coast was clear, or so he thought.

Coriolanus walked into the kitchen with unmatchable swagger and a smug smile on his lips. But when he saw Tigris sitting at the kitchen table with two steaming cups of coffee, he knew he was in trouble.

“Good morning, Coryo. Have a seat.” Tigris’s tone was calm as always. That eased his mind a little, but he hoped that she wouldn’t talk about what happened last night.

“Where did you get the coffee?” He slid a mug closer to himself and observed the dark liquid in it. He hadn’t had coffee in a long time. He took a sip of it and let the bitterness settle onto his tongue. He could taste a faint trace of sugar. It was probably the last of the sugar they had in the cupboard, but as the sweetness hit his tongue, all he could think about was you.

“It was in the basket,” Tigris motioned to the basket on the countertop.

He remembered that Grandma’am had told him about the basket in passing. He hadn't registered that you were the one who brought the basket for them.

“Now, Coryo. We need to talk.” Tigris took one of Coriolanus’s hands into hers. Just like Coryo, Tigris has slim and bony hands. Their fingers interlaced and Tigris looked into his eyes. “The walls aren’t that thick. I know what happened last night.”

Coriolanus closed his eyes in embarrassment. He couldn’t look his cousin in the eyes. Now it was evident that the Universe didn’t answer his prayers.

“Hey, it’s okay. There’s no need for you to be embarrassed. I just want to make sure you’re being safe.”

“Yes, we are,” Coriolanus said as he continued to avoid eye contact. Last night was the first time he didn't pull out. The two of you were clean and there was a low chance that you would get pregnant.

“Good,” Tigris let go of his hand and continued, “So, did you do everything I told you?”

Tigris had always been there for Coriolanus. She was his number-one supporter and confidant. No matter what, Coriolanus would trust Tigris with anything, but sometimes Tigris would do and say things that made Coriolanus want to scream.

“Tigris!” Coriolanus hid his head in his hands.

Tigris smirked at her younger cousin's antics. She was proud of him for finding someone to love him as he was. Coriolanus had so much to offer to the world, but not enough money for the world to take him seriously.

The rest of the morning was spent with the two of them laughing and smiling as their conversation shifted away from sex. Even Though the universe didn't answer Coriolanus' petty prayers, he is glad for one thing though. He’s grateful that the universe brought him the most powerful, beautiful, strong, and caring women in all of Panem.

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@positivelyholland @klausluvshybrids I hope you guys liked it 🤓

#young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fluff #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tigris snow

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bucketsofmonsters · 2 years

Text

Willing Sacrifice

cw: vaginal fingering, penetrative sex, an attempted sacrifice of the reader, non-human genetalia, getting lost in the woods, a monster in heat

male monster x fem reader

Word count: 9k

“You can’t do this to me!” you screamed, knowing it was pointless but too full of anger to care.

“I’m sorry, my dear, it has to be done.” The people you used to call friends tightened your bindings as you struggled and thrashed against them, refusing to go down without a fight.

“It doesn’t!” you protested, unable to understand how they could be alright with doing this. “We can fight or move or anything, I don’t know, anything but this!”

It was futile. As they hurried away, eager to get far away from you and forget about your cries of protest, you wondered how long ago they’d decided on this. When had they decided that you were the one they would sacrifice.

In all honesty, it had probably been a long time ago. It was probably because of exactly this kind of behavior, you absolutely refusing to let this go on. You’d never been alright with any of this, with how they sent people into the forest to die in an attempt to save their own hides. If you’d kept your head down 5 years ago, the last time they’d tried this, odds were you’d be safe at home right now but you hadn’t. You hadn’t been able to stomach it, wracked with grief until you could stand it no longer.

In the middle of the night, praying you were not too late, you ran to this exact stone and removed the restraints, telling the poor girl a few years older than you were now to run to a nearby village and never turn back. They probably wouldn’t even have noticed you’d freed her if they hadn’t caught you on your way back. It didn’t take long to piece it together, your guilty face running from those woods. You’d been kept on a tight leash since then.

For every person that died in those 5 years, every single one, the blame was placed squarely on your back. “Was it worth it?" they’d ask, “All these souls for one person?”

You said yes every time.

And now here you were, after every attempt to get out had failed. You had no real hope that you’d survive this, the odds that there was another quiet savior in your village was nonexistent. You were alone. It was kind of fitting, that you were going to die in the forest that you loved so much, sacrificed to the beast that lived within it.

Every time you heard movement in the trees your memories flashed back to all the horror stories you’d been told about the monster in these woods, how it would tear people limb from limb, leave their bones for people to find.

The further on the night ticked, the less jumpy you got. After hours and hours had passed, the cold and the restraints digging into your skin making your limbs go numb became harder and harder to ignore. One can only wait in terrified apprehension for so long before even the fear becomes monotonous.

You wiggled as much as you could, trying to get blood flow back into your arms and legs. At this rate, even if the creature didn’t kill you, you’d lose your limbs by the end of this. Not that you thought there was any real chance you’d make it out but it was better than just waiting.

As you moved your arms the few inches that you could, you heard something move behind you and you were almost certain that this time, it wasn’t just your imagination. As much as you struggled, you couldn’t turn enough to see what it was, left completely in the dark. However, the deep, echoing footsteps gave you a pretty good guess at what was coming.

You took a deep breath, promising yourself you wouldn’t scream. If you were going to die here, you might as well do it with dignity.

A short huff came from behind you and you could feel hot breath wash over you, making your skin crawl. The air shifted as it moved closer, and you desperately tried to flinch away, despite knowing you couldn’t move.

And then, all of a sudden, you could. Your restraints were ripped open, freeing your arms first and then your legs. You didn’t even take the time to think, immediately throwing yourself from the rock you’d been tied to, desperate to get away. You assumed this was what it wanted, for you to give it a chase, but what other option did you have? You certainly weren’t going to just lay down and die.

As you pushed yourself from the rock, the gravity of the situation set in as your numb and strained arms and legs gave out on you. You collapsed to the ground unceremoniously, letting out a desperate sob as you realized you wouldn’t even be able to attempt an escape. You lay there, crumpled on the ground, racking your brain for anything you could do. So much for going out with dignity.

“Are you an idiot?” The voice that came from behind you was deep, barely above a growl, with something deeply animalistic to it. It set off some instinctual fear in you; the sound alone being enough to make the hairs on your arms stand on end.

You tried to pull yourself back but your traitorous arms and legs wouldn’t allow for it, barely managing to turn yourself enough to see the creature. He was massive, probably seven or eight feet tall, it was hard to tell from the ground. He was standing on two feet, which aided his height. You’d always imagined the beast of these woods on all fours, more animalistic and unspeaking than this. Thick fur covered him head to toe, he looked almost wolfish, with ivory antlers growing out of his head.

Your heart told you to scream and your head told you to try and reason with him but all you managed to blurt out was, “You can talk?”

He plodded over to you, familiar, echoing footsteps approaching you before picking you up from the ground like you weighed nothing. You could feel his sharp claws, not piercing your skin put pressed up against you as he lifted you. You quietly made your peace with your imminent death before he plopped you down again, leaning you against the stone you’d been tied to.

“At least gather your bearings before you try and run again, little idiot.”

No matter how much you tried to calm yourself, your breaths were still coming short and fast. At this rate, even if you could stand you would pass out if you tried to run anywhere, you needed to pull yourself together, as difficult as that was in the presence of a figure you’d had nightmares about for years.

“Is that what you want? For me to give you a chase?” you spat in his direction, trying to sound as frightening as you could while unable to stand properly.

He didn’t even dignify you with a response to your question, which angered you even more. If he was going to kill you, the least he could do was not ignore you first. He glared at you accusationally, as if he had any right to be angry, and snarled, “After the last one wasn’t here, I thought maybe your stupid village was done but you never fail to disappoint me.”

“After the last… I freed her.” You assumed he was talking about his missing sacrifice, the one you’d worked so hard to save at the cost of your own life. You sat up a little straighter at that, proud you’d be able to tell him that you had taken one sacrifice away from him, even if you did end up here yourself. At least you’d have that, a small victory but one you were proud of nonetheless.

His head cocked to the side, looking at you with a newfound interest, actually responding to your words for the first time. “You freed her?”

“To save her from you,” you spat. You could barely look at him, knowing the blood of your friends was on his hands. The only reason you forced yourself to look was to watch his reaction to your little victory. He didn't seem angry, though, more intrigued than anything, if you were reading his face correctly. You dismissed it, you probably just weren’t understanding him properly, you weren’t accustomed to reading wolf-men’s faces anyways.

“Your friends did not need saving from me. Despite what you little parasites seem to think, I have no interest in you, as sacrifices or otherwise.”

You shook your head. “No, that’s not possible, you killed them!”

“That is what you all think, isn’t it. Every death is blamed on me, every attack by a wild creature. You send your own to die here, by my hand, and yet I’m the monster. I’ve done nothing to you but exist near your home.”

That couldn’t be true, this must be some sort of trick or game he was playing with you. “You expect me to believe you?”

He scoffed. “I don’t expect a human to believe anything but their own self-centered worldview.”

“Where are they then?” you shot back, trying to force him to admit to his lie. “Where are all my friends?”

“Do you think they wanted to go back to a people who would send them to die so readily?”

That gave you pause. If you survived this, where would you go? Not home, you knew that much. You would never go back there. Not after what they’d done to you. Why would the others feel any different?

“Are they really alive,” you asked, wincing as your voice cracked, sounding much more pathetic than you’d intended.

The creature’s demeanor softened at your words and you hated him for it, hated the wave of pity you felt from him. You much preferred when he was calling you an idiot, at least you’d felt like his equal then.

“They’re fine,” he said, his voice more level than before, more like a low growl than a roar. “They’ve all moved on, gone elsewhere. You will too, when you remember how to stand.”

Was that where you’d go? Some town somewhere, filled with more people. A village like yours, one you’d have to hope would treat you better. Surround yourself with people who could betray you just as easily? The idea turned your stomach. You didn’t belong there. There was nowhere you belonged now. “There’s no place for me. I’ll stay here.”

The more gentle demeanor the creature had put on for you evaporated. “You will do no such thing, if you stay you’ll die.”

“Because you’ll kill me?”

You could practically feel his frustration. “No, I’m not going to kill you, get that through your thick skull. You won’t survive alone in these woods.”

“There’s no place for me amongst people anymore. I love this forest, if it kills me so be it, I’m not leaving.”

He looked you up and down and you couldn’t help but shrink under his intense gaze. Finally, he broke the silence once more. “You’re really not going to leave, are you?”

You shook your head, already adamant in your position. He buried his head in his hands, clearly frustrated with your decision

After a frustrated growl left his throat, he looked down at you once again and said, “Fine, I’ll show you somewhere you can stay.”

You reeled back. “You’re going to help me?”

“I already told you, I don’t want you dead. It’s just somewhere to protect you from the elements, it’s nothing much. Can you walk yet or do I need to carry you?”

You absolutely would not be allowing that to happen. You began to rise and he shifted closer to you. You realized that he was preparing to catch you if you fell, which only made you more determined to stand. You managed it, although on shaky legs and while leaning on the rock you’d come to hate more than anything in the past few hours.

He seemed to accept that you were able to walk now, despite a few fumbles as you began, your legs slowly regaining feeling, although he never strayed too far from you and you got the distinct feeling he wasn’t sure if you would keel over or not.

He led you to a cave, not far from where you’d been tied up. It was small, he had to duck a little to ensure his antlers didn’t scrape the ceiling, but he was right. It would protect you from the elements, at least that was something. As soon as you entered he was already leaving, clearly not eager to stick around and chat.

You weren’t entirely sure why him leaving upset you. You’d just met the terrifying creature, the one who’d haunted you for so many years, and yet so quickly he had turned to some kind of comfort for you. Without him there, the silence of the forest felt overwhelming.

You laid down on the cold, stone ground, as far from the entrance of the cave as you could get. You weren’t sure how you were going to sleep here but you definitely needed it, emotionally and physically exhausted from the night you’d had. You didn’t need to worry, despite your concerns about being able to fall asleep on the hard ground, your exhaustion rapidly took over.

When you woke up, something heavy was draped across you and you sat up in a panic, feeling smothered. As you got up, you realized it was a fur of some kind, keeping you warm. Next to you and the fur was some food and you quietly thanked the beast you’d been so afraid of the night before.

You saw him on occasion, amongst the trees. He was shockingly stealthy for his size, you could tell how no one had ever managed to get a good look at him. You, however, did manage it. He wasn’t hiding from you anymore, there was no use for it.

Despite his demeanor towards you, he was very helpful. He never admitted to being the one to help you, of course, but when you found supplies around you when you woke up you knew exactly where they were coming from.

The day you’d awoken to the peace offerings from the beast, you’d also awoken to blue and purple marks covering your arms, right where the bindings had been. You found yourself rubbing them absentmindedly, the ache a reminder of your first night here. You almost missed them as they started to fade, the last real tie to your village.

You inspected them thoroughly every night, a better marker of time to you than the days. Tonight, for the first time, they were fully gone. No color or pain remaining, just your arms, as they had been.

“Do you really love the forest?”

You whipped around, unsure as to how you could’ve possibly missed the creature’s entrance. You must’ve been too caught up in your reminiscing. You silently scolded yourself, you couldn’t afford to be that careless. “You’re going to give me a heart attack, warn me first!”

“You should be more aware of your surroundings,” he said, amusement tinging his voice.

“Yes, I love the forest,” you said with a huff, “I told you that already, why are you asking me.”

“Most humans who claim that are more destructive. Why did you save the other sacrifice?”

“Because it’s not right, sending someone to die against their will like that. I couldn’t stand for it, even if it meant me being on that rock. Why are you helping me?” you shot back. This interrogation you’d been unwillingly entered into could go both ways.

You expected him to brush it off, to say something rude and move on, but he considered your words carefully before responding. “I don’t want you to die, despite how much of a death wish you seem to have.”

“I do not have a death wish!” Sure, you’d been reckless, but you thought you’d been doing pretty well, all things considered.

“Perhaps you don’t. Your actions make more sense if you do.”

“I can’t have morals?”

“You can, but strong enough ones to die for?”

Of course they were strong enough for you to die for. The other option was letting an innocent person die, you couldn’t stand for that. “Yes. Seems like that wasn’t in the cards though.”

He shook his head in agreement. “Not in my forest it’s not.��

Your head fell to the side, looking up at him curiously. “Is this your forest?”

“I think so. I keep it safe, maintain it. I don’t own it if that’s what you’re asking.”

It wasn’t. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that he owned the forest, that anyone owned the forest. The idea just seemed outlandish to you.

“What’s your name?” It struck you that you hadn’t asked.

“Acacius.”

“Thank you, Acacius, for everything you’ve done for me.”

This seemed to take him by surprise. You couldn’t blame him, you supposed you hadn’t acted very grateful thus far. You were grateful, infinitely so. You weren’t so foolish as to think that you could have survived on your own without him, you were resourceful but not that resourceful, especially not when you’d started exhausted and frightened. Without his quiet aid you would have fulfilled the village’s mission, become a sacrifice to the forest despite Acacius’s initial mercy. “You're welcome, little idiot.”

Before you could manage a retort, he was gone, as quickly and silently as he’d appeared.

You saw more of each other after that. He seemed to have warmed to you in the weeks you’d been here and you enjoyed spending time with him, although neither of you would ever admit it.

As the weeks ticked onwards and the harshest part of winter came, with snow blanketing the ground and temperatures being far below freezing, he just happened to show up more and more often, checking in on you almost daily. And miraculously, more and more pelts kept appearing around your little cave, more than you knew what to with, even in the harsh cold of the winter.

You were convinced that the worst was over. It must be, you couldn’t remember it ever having been this cold before in the village, although admittedly in the past you had been inside next to the warm fireplace for most of those winters, not in a cave covered in animal hides.

The temperatures dropping even further caught you entirely by surprise. You woke up, shivering, hours after your fire had burnt out to feet of new snow outside. You groaned, rubbing your hands together in a desperate bid for warmth so you’d have enough feeling in your hands to restart your fire.

As you tried and failed to warm your hands, you heard a very welcome noise. The plodding of heavy footsteps on newly fallen snow approached you and you turned eagerly to see the staggering figure of your protector.

At the sight of your shivering form you heard a low growl come from him, igniting some instinctual fear in you. You often forgot how imposing he could be, especially when he was upset. You weren’t actually afraid of him, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you, but occasionally, something would happen and something in your biology would tell you that you needed to run.

He pushed past you, completely unaware of the effect he was having on you and already set on starting a fire,

“You humans are so fragile,” he called back to you as he busied himself.

You sniffled quietly, refusing to dignify that with a response.

It didn’t take long before the fire was roaring in front of you, far faster than you could’ve managed with your practically numb fingers that still weren’t getting better.

You sat opposite the fire from Acacius, who was watching you carefully as you tucked your hands between your thighs and curled in on yourself, trying to conserve body heat.

“Come here,” he said, beckoning you towards him. You stared back at him, wide eyed and uncertain. He didn’t give you the opportunity to flounder, speaking once more. “You’re cold. Come here.” His tone didn’t leave any room for argument, saying it so matter-of-factly, as if it was the only course of action. You obeyed, shuffling towards him, an uncharacteristic timidness coming over you at the idea of being close to him.

As soon as you were within his reach he pulled you into his side, next to the newly lit fire. Your body went stiff, unsure of what to do with this newfound contact. You’d never actually gotten the chance to touch his fur before, even unmoving against it you could tell how thick and soft it was. Unbidden, your mind conjured the idea of how it would feel to run your hands through it, wondering if anyone had ever done that for him. This did not help how flustered you were, absolutely refusing to move just in case you messed this up somehow.

Acacius seemed to find this deeply amusing, a low chuckle rumbling through his chest. “Relax, little one, I don’t bite.”

This did little to help your nervousness but you managed to relax against him, leaning into his surprisingly warm side, feeling the cold slowly leave you.

“You’re so tense around me.” You could feel the rumble in his chest as he spoke, his voice particularly low, making it almost seem as if you were feeling his words instead of hearing them.

It was a fair observation, you were tense around him. You understood why you were at first, you were scared and upset, of course you were going to be on guard against him. He didn’t seem to mind that, he understood your fear and did his best to prove it unwarranted. But as the fear and anger dissipated and you got to know him, that tension remained. You didn’t understand it yourself, let alone well enough to put it into words. There was just something about him, something that made you more conscious of yourself, a thick tension that always hung in the air.

Not that you’d ever say that to him, admit to that tension you didn’t understand and couldn’t quite manage to shake. So you did what you did best, you deflected.

“Of course I’m tense. It’s been quite the adjustment, having to sleep on the cold, hard ground,” you said with a dramatic sigh, trying to keep yourself from giggling.

He was having none of it. “Oh please. With all the furs I’ve given you, you’re sleeping like a princess.”

You continued on, undeterred by his accurate assessment. “And no kitchens, or even houses at all, I think I’ve been doing incredibly well considering everything I’ve had to deal with.”

“Do you always complain this much?” he grumbled.

“When there’s things to complain about I do,” you responded, absolutely refusing to back down.

Then he got quiet and you worried you’d pushed things too far. Just as you opened your mouth to say you were kidding, that you appreciated everything he’d done for you and that you were doing just fine, he started to speak, cutting you off completely. “Things wouldn’t be so difficult for you if you’d just go to another town, where you're meant to be. You’d be happier there.”

Your heart dropped. You knew he was partially right, that things would be easier if you’d just find somewhere new to stay, live like you always had. But happier? “No I wouldn’t. I belong here, I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re lucky I’m here and willing to take care of you.”

“I am.”

“You are?”

You knew he was just trying to get you to say it aloud. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. But right now, cuddled into his side, feeling more content than you ever had living in that god forsaken village, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “Yeah, I’m lucky to have you.”

He pulled you closer into him, almost protectively, and you could feel your face heating up. Between his body heat and the fire and whatever emotions you were experiencing right now, at least you didn’t have to worry about being cold anymore. That problem had long since been solved.

You hadn’t realized until now how tired you were. You hadn’t let yourself realize, so focused on other things but now, warm and safe, you found yourself nodding off.

You didn’t know how long you’d been asleep, unwilling to open your eyes and check how light it was. You could tell he was awake beside you, could feel his eyes on you as you avoided opening yours for a little longer, content to remain where you were.

The dripping of the icicles outside indicated a much needed end to the cold. You hoped it wouldn’t be too long, you missed the green of the forest. Although, if this was how you got to sleep when it got this cold, maybe you wanted it to stick around a little longer.

“Spring’s coming, isn’t it?” you said, breaking the silence and slowly opening your eyes. “I’ve always loved spring, all the baby animals around and all the flowers.”

He seemed bashful at the idea, although you couldn’t fathom why. “It’ll be easier for you when the cold’s gone,” he said, avoiding eye contact as if he hadn’t been staring you down moments before.

“Yeah, it’ll be nice and warm again. Do you like the spring? I guess I don’t actually know what most of the seasons are like when you’re actually living out here.”

In a frustrating return to form, he refused to answer your question. “I’ll be gone for a while during the spring, you’ll have to fend for yourself.”

You were sure he hadn’t meant for it to hurt you, to seem like he was pulling away. You were sure he had a good reason, something important he had to attend to. It still felt like a slap in the face. You were tucked into his side, trying to talk with him, to connect with him, and all he could think about was leaving. “Right, okay. I’m sure it’ll be a welcome break. Do you know how long you’ll be gone?”

“Should be no more than a few days, I’m sure you’ll manage.”

You nodded, hoping you looked reassuring, and hoping even more than he cared enough to notice. “I’ll be fine, no need to worry about me.”

It had not been a few days. In fact, it had been almost a week and still there was no sign of Acacius. No matter how many times you told yourself that he was more than capable of handling himself you couldn’t help but worry. As frustrating as he could be, it wasn’t like him to just go missing, to go against his word like this.

Once a week hit, you went looking for him. Not too far, you didn’t want to be away in case he returned, but you started traveling further and farther from your little portion of the woods.

You weren’t good at self-regulating. Every time the little voice in the back of your head said it was time to go home, that you’d strayed too far or that it was getting late, you couldn’t help but push on. Just a little further, just a little longer. What if you were right there, so close just to turn back at exactly the wrong moment.

When you finally did decide to return home, the sun had fully set. You realized your mistake as you tried to make your way back. You were unfamiliar with this part of the woods. In places you’d traveled since you’d arrived here or even back in your time at the village, you could navigate at night easily, but that was well traveled ground. You could find your way through those trees blindfolded if you needed to.

Out here, on the other hand, you barely knew right from left. The moonlight struggled to make it through the branches and the only real thing you had to guide you was the vague memory of how you’d gotten here. Unfortunately, you had decidedly taken at least one wrong turn and were now in entirely new territory.

Your single focus was attempting to get to familiar ground. As soon as you panicked you were done, you just needed to get your bearings and then you could get yourself to safety. As you realized that you’d lost even your sense of direction, your priorities changed. If you continued on, the only thing that would happen was you would get entirely lost and at that point, even daylight might not help you. Your best shot was to find somewhere you could hunker down, stay until the sun came up and you could hopefully find your way back.

As you searched, the only thing you could do was think, stuck going over your mistakes over and over again. Your one task was to keep yourself safe and what had you done? Decided you needed to help and set off straight into danger. It was a stupid mistake, one you hoped you’d live to regret.

Finally, you found a small cave, which would hopefully be your shelter for the night. You were exhausted and you mind was slow with fear and regret and you didn’t think to check it first, not until you heard a low growl.

Something was in here and now it felt cornered. You couldn’t get out of there fast enough. You barely had time to register the noise before a sharp pain shot through your side and you were keeling over. Chaos broke out around you but you couldn’t make any of it out, the panic and the pain in your side clouding your view just as much as the darkness was.

You weren’t sure what eventually knocked you out, if it was blood loss or the shock or something else entirely, all you knew as you fell was that you were certain you wouldn’t be waking up.

But you did, finding yourself somewhere unfamiliar, on dozens of animal pelt laid out below you. Your hand drifted down to the throbbing pain in your side, finding your pulsing wounds wrapped up tight.

Then, a familiar voice echoed off the walls and you felt relief wash through you. “I asked you to stay out of trouble for a little while, was that so difficult?”

“I didn’t almost get eaten by wolves on purpose!” you snapped back, immediately regretting the harsh tone you’d used. He’d saved you and those were the first words you said to him? “No, sorry, I should be thanking you, you saved me again,” you said, biting down your pride. “What even happened? It was hard to tell.”

“You got attacked by some wolves. I almost didn’t get there in time to stop them, they would’ve torn you apart.”

You winced. “It wasn’t their fault, I was stupid and I cornered them.”

“I know it wasn’t. I don’t blame the wolves.”

He blamed you. As he should, it was your fault. You’d been stupid and you’d put yourself in danger and it wasn’t anyone’s fault but your own. “I’m sorry,” you choked out, feeling the sharp pain above your ribs as you spoke.

“You don’t need to apologize. I just… I need you to be more careful. If I wasn’t there…” His body was tense. You could tell, even from here, that he was still ready to fight, even at the memory. “What were you doing out there anyways?”

You wanted to lie, to save your pride and say anything but the truth, but you didn’t. He deserved to know what had happened. “You were gone a long time and I got worried about you, it’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid. You’re two sweet for your own good, little idiot.”

This time, you felt like you’d earned the nickname, just this once. “I’m lucky you got back when you did, where have you been?”

“Here.” He was still keeping his distance from you, turned away and as far from you as he could be while still being inside the cave.

“What? But you said…”

He remained hunched over in the corner, back to you and keeled over himself. You could tell from the rise and fall of his shoulders that his breathing was slow and heavy and your heart sank. “Are you hurt?”

He responded immediately, his tone final. “I’m fine. You stay there.”

You didn’t think he’d lie about being injured, he respected you more than that. If he’d gotten hurt he would’ve been tending to it, not trying to protect you from a consequence of your actions. So why was he hiding like this, both in this cave for days and even now, standing far away from you, in your presence but still hiding.

It was like he didn’t want to be near you or even look at you. You weren’t sure what had shifted as the seasons had changed, why with the beginning of spring he’d needed to spend some time alone, still here but unwilling to see you, set on staying within the privacy of his own home.

You verbalized your thoughts, trying to make sense of all of it, to piece it together. “So what, you just have a week in spring where you have to…”

Oh.

Your hand flew over your mouth as everything clicked into place. A sigh echoed off of the cave walls and you knew he understood what had just occurred to you.

You wanted to tell him it was alright, that he didn’t need to be embarrassed or upset, that he could have told you what was going on.

Instead, the words that came out of your mouth were, “I want to help”

“You have no idea what you’re saying”

“I think I do.”

He stopped and for the first time in this conversation, he fully turned to face you, leering over you. You could see it in his face, he was considering it and as he stared at you, mulling it over, you let out a shaky breath. But then he backed away from you again, leaning fully against the opposite wall and you shrunk in on yourself, unsure if you’d imagined it. “You need to heal.”

“And what are you going to do during that, just sit in the corner the whole time? I’ll be fine, I’m stronger than I look.”

“I’m aware of that, trust me. You need to heal, nothing is happening until you’re no longer actively bleeding.”

It made sense. You couldn’t fault him for it. If you’d been in your right mind you would have said the same thing, but right now you were a cocktail of conflicting emotions and you decided you didn’t particularly care for rational thinking. But you had no real argument to make so all you managed was a little huff.

He seemed to find it more amusing than anything, letting out a soft chuckle as he sank to the floor opposite you, putting his face closer to your eye level. “You know, my heats don’t normally last this long. I think my body registered that I was courting you and it was going well but I don’t know how the timelines of human relationships work, I didn’t want to push you into anything.”

You reeled back. “Hold on, you were courting me?”

He seemed just as confused as you felt. “Of course I was. All the furs I put on you while you were sleeping, and the supplies and food. I held you to keep you warm and you fell asleep on me. Is that not how humans court?”

You shook your head but suddenly you weren’t so sure. He’d brought you gifts and taken care of you and you had fallen asleep on him, perhaps that wasn’t as platonic as you had assumed.

He seemed horrified by the revelation. “You had no idea this was coming. We shouldn’t be doing this, I need to give you time and space, I-”

“No, wait!” You lurched towards him in an attempt to make him stay but instead you doubled over, clutching your side. Immediately he was next to you, making sure you were alright and that you hadn’t reopened your wounds.

As you caught your breath and he ensured you were alright, he started to move away again. Your arm shot out and caught his, silently pleading for him to stay with you. Despite your grip on his arm, you knew that if he wanted to he could pull away, you were no obstacle to him. And yet, he didn’t even try, settling down next to you.

When he sighed this time, you could feel it and you’d never been more grateful for the proximity. “I’ve gone about this all wrong. Why are you so confusing?”

“Were you really courting me?” Your voice was low, as if you were worried you might scare him off if you spoke too loud. You couldn’t keep the grin off your face, no matter how hard you tried.

“Clearly not well enough. How do humans court people?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, weird ways.

“What ways?”

You struggled to find a way to explain it. “So men will…” your sentence was caught off by a fit of giggles. “Men will like… they’ll give your father a goat. Or other stuff that’s worth stuff. And then you marry them.” You couldn’t stop laughing, it sounded so absurd when you explained it aloud.

Acacius did not seem any more convinced of the legitimacy of these methods. “So you’re not involved in this at all? Are you sure they’re not courting your father?”

“No, that would make too much sense. Noone wanted to pay my dowry because they thought I was mad, freeing sacrifices and running around in the woods. If only they could see me now.” Another fit of giggles overtook you and you buried your face in Acacius's fur. As you did you felt a low growl rumble through him, drawing another smile out of you. “I prefer your way.”

“Your presence is making it worse, you know. I haven’t felt this way, haven’t felt this much, in a long time. I can barely think.”

That probably shouldn’t stroke your ego as much as it did. “Then stop thinking.”

“I’ll stop thinking when you can stand properly, how does that sound?”

To be honest, it didn’t sound ideal but you had a feeling it was the best deal you were going to get.

Two more days. That’s how long getting better apparently took. At the end of the next day, you proudly showed him that you could walk and even jog just fine, that you were all healed up and still it wasn’t enough for him.

He was supposed to be the one in heat so you didn’t think it made any sense that you were this desperate, desperate for anything. Every time he’d say you needed to heal more, that he wouldn’t risk hurting you. None of your arguments managed to sway him.

That didn’t stop you from arguing, far from it. It felt like there was endless bickering between the two of you but in your defense, you were being kept inside and you were bored and desperate and definitely healed enough.

So on the second day of being forced to sit around for hours on end, you decide to try once more.

“You know, it barely even hurts anymore.”

“You can barely move without wincing,” he said, which while fair, didn’t feel entirely relevant to you right now.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m just being dramatic, don’t worry so much. I feel fine.”

He walked over to you, towering over you, and you prepared to be told off once more.

“Strip.”

Your voice immediately lost all its confidence. “What?”

“You want to do this so badly, so strip.”

At a loss for words, you did what you were told, pulling off your clothes under his quiet attention, doing your best to not become self conscious. Soon you were covered only by the bandages wrapped over your ribs and your arms that you folded over yourself, feeling exposed and uncertain, in entirely new territory.

Acacius stepped closer and pulled your arms away from your chest, a pleased noise escaping him as you allowed him to move you with no resistance. As soon as you weren’t covering yourself anymore, his attention shifted down to your bandages and you wanted to scream. Was that really the most important thing right now?

His hand ghosted over them, inspecting them carefully. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

You nodded eagerly, words still seeming a bit difficult at the moment.

Concern still wracked his features but as he stared at you, chest heaving up and down, you could tell his patience had finally run out.

“Alright, lay down.”

You followed his orders, reclining on the furs that were sprawled across the floor while he remained where he stood, staring down at you. Normally if he bossed around like this you would have given him hell, but right now you appreciated the commands. You weren’t sure you could manage a coherent thought if you’d tried, with two days of working yourself up behind you.

“I can’t, I have…” he nodded towards his clawed hands, the ones he’d always been so careful about around you. “I need you to help me open you up, can you do that?”

You nodded, your breath catching in your throat as you did.

Slowly, you pushed two fingers inside you. His intense gaze fell on you, unwavering, watching your entrance, eyes darting up to your face as you gasped when you hit a particularly sensitive spot. Your eyes locked and you felt yourself clench around your fingers, perfectly content to just lie there, touching yourself as he watched until you remembered your mission and started scissoring yourself open.

You felt so small under his gaze. There was always quite the size difference but you’d never felt it as much as you did right now.

You knew he could see how wet you were. It must be obvious, even from where he stood. You pushed another finger inside, set on opening yourself up as quickly as you could. You whined as you did. It still didn’t feel like enough, you needed more. You needed him.

Caught up in your frustration, you didn’t even notice him approaching you until you felt him, leaning over you. You immediately grabbed at him, hands leaving yourself and rooting themselves in his fur in an attempt to pull him towards you. “So impatient, little one,” he muttered, and for a moment you were worried he was going to keep teasing you.

He was so much bigger than you, leaving you to bury your face in his chest as he lined himself up, his head far above yours. You could feel his tip pressing up against you and if you hadn’t been so worked up, you might’ve thought that you should’ve worked yourself open for longer, this was going to be quite the stretch. You weren’t even sure if it would fit, desperately praying it would.

He waited at your entrance, giving you a chance to protest as you felt him but instead, you bucked your hips, your desperation only growing. Finally, he started to push in. Your arms flew around him. He shushed you in his low, rumbling voice as he paused for a moment to let you adjust to the stretch. You focused on breathing, trying to match your breaths to the slow, steady rise and fall of Acacius’s chest. He seemed better at controlling his breathing than you, clearly measuring his breaths in an attempt to maintain his control and composure as he entered you, which were two things you couldn’t seem to manage right now. It didn’t take long before you grew restless again, letting out a pathetic whine, a noise that you never would have imagined you’d make.

A low chuckle rumbled through his chest at your impatience so you decided to take things into your own hands, pushing downward to get more of him inside of you, that stretch returning almost immediately. You heard him hiss above you, his hips locked into place, and you realized he was putting all his energy into controlling himself, into not giving into his instincts and just rutting into you.

Part of you wanted him to.

“You need to be more patient,” he said, through what sounded like gritted teeth.

Any other day you’d have shot something snarky back but right now, you were too far gone. All you could manage was whimpering out, “Need you.”

That was enough to make him start up again, set on stretching you out, making it so you could take all of him. It felt like it would never end. Finally, his hips were flush with yours and he stopped, panting and letting you adjust. Your hand creeped down to your stomach, trying to confirm your suspicion. As it landed on your lower stomach you felt him, inside of you, pushing at your walls so hard you could feel it from the outside.

He felt it too, as you touched it he groaned and you could feel his restraint wearing thin. Good.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice dripping with genuine care. You knew that if you showed any sign of discomfort that he would stop immediately,

You nodded into his chest,

“Can I move?”

“Please.” Your voice was wracked with desperation. The days of anticipation already had you worked up, you needed him.

He didn’t require any more convincing, pulling out to rut back inside, earning a cry from you as he reached deeper inside you than you even knew was possible. It wasn’t a hard thrust and you knew he was getting you used to it, making sure he didn’t overwhelm you, but still it felt like he was splitting you in two. Somehow, every thrust felt like it was going deeper, him pushing harder and harder every time. Your hand dropped to rub your clit, desperately chasing your high as he started to use you in earnest, chasing his.

He pulled you closer to him, your chest flush against his as he thrusted into you. It seemed like he couldn’t get close enough to you, like even while he was inside you needed more. Your hands knotted themselves in his fur, both aiding him in his efforts to bring the two of you ever closer and giving you something to hold onto as everything became rapidly overwhelming.

The way you clung to him only seemed to spur him on. The way you were holding desperately to him as he ruined you, both overwhelming you entirely and bringing you comfort. The way you trusted him entirely, were giving all of yourself over to him and still trying to draw him closer. You could tell it was driving him crazy, both his instincts and his heart pleased by your behavior.

The longer it went, the more it seemed like he was losing control, measured thrusts turning into something much more primal. He was letting his instincts take control. His words of praise, telling you how well you were doing, had faded out, replaced by grunts and growls as he hammered into you.

At a particularly hard thrust, you let out a choked sob, a coil winding in your stomach as he rutted into you endlessly, focused on marking you, on making you his.

You could feel it coming, feel yourself tightening around him as he pounded into you. Your fist tightened in his fur, giving you something to grab as you found your release. You gasped his name, barely even aware of what you were doing, unable to focus on anything but the white hot pleasure that was ripping through you.

Even this didn’t deter him, his thrusts made even easier by the new wave of wetness that had coated him as he desperately chased his own pleasure, pushing you through yours. Now that you'd come, that he was sure he’d made you feel good, something in him snapped, fucking you harder than you would have imagined possible.

You were certain he was close, that he just needed one last push. Unable to move in his tight, protective grasp, all you could do was speak, choking out the words, “please… need you,” through the haze of sensation. His movement stuttered and you clenched around him again, pushing him over the edge as he gave you exactly what you’d asked for. You could feel him come, painting your insides as he held you close to him, his thrusts slowing.

Even as he finished, he didn’t pull out of you, insead wrapping his arm around your waist and flipping the both of you around, leaving you resting on his chest. You still felt full, him seated inside you. You wondered if this was part of his mating instinct, a bid to try and get you pregnant even if you both knew that wasn’t possible, at least not between the two of you. Or maybe he just liked being inside of you and the closeness it brought. Either way, you weren’t complaining, feeling satisfied and full and frankly, exhausted.

“Please stay,” he asked, his voice low and hoarse, and you knew he wasn’t just talking about you spending the night here.

“Of course. I told you the first time we met, I’m not going anywhere.”

This seemed to satisfy him, his hold on you loosening slightly so you could get comfortable, snuggling into him as you got ready to succumb to your exhaustion. You managed a muffled, “You’re warm,” still not feeling completely coherent. You were sure you wouldn’t be able to stand if you tried, your legs feeling wobbly already, even as you just layed there, and for the first time, you didn’t mind it.

You could feel him chuckle to himself, the laugh sending vibrations through his chest. “Will you stop complaining about sleeping on the ground now?”

You murmured happily into his chest. If this was where your complaining had gotten you, you considered it quite the success. “As long as you keep letting me sleep here, with you.”

“I think I can manage that.”

#terato #terato writing #teratophillia #monster x reader #monster x human #monster boyfriend #monster bf #my writing #I love the human doesn’t understand they’re being courted trope #Also Irl wolves snuggle to court one another which is adorable #Ofc im gonna make my forest god do that too #the monster started as a werewolf when I was plotting and then shifted into a sort of forest god #I want to do some more shorter stuff with these two if I’m honest #More for the WIP pile ig lol

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cowgurrrl · 4 months

Text

It Ain't Me Babe

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author’s note: A holiday present from me to you ❣️

Summary: Ellie’s first art club meeting [2.8k]

Warnings: creative insecurity, mentions of financial instability, teacher things, Ellie talking about Sarah, more flirty flirt, I think that’s it??

Nothing has ever been as annoying or guilt-inducing as an unfinished piece of art. Sure, every artist— no matter the medium— has felt like an uncreative, unoriginal hack, but it still feels just as new as it did the first time. Moonlight streams through your window as you glare at the canvas, hoping for an idea or stroke of genius. It's late. You should be in bed, especially since it's a Sunday night and you spent your weekend working at the bar down the street. But you're holding a paintbrush between stained fingers and praying for a miracle. It's been eight months since you last sold a piece for a whopping $200, chump change when it comes to living in Austin these days. Even with two jobs and doing commission work, you're living paycheck to paycheck. Maybe that's why it's so hard to create? That has to be the reason. You don't remember it being this hard when you were younger.

Creating art was the only thing that brought you solace during your teenage years. It didn't matter if it was drawing, pottery, painting, sculpting. All that mattered was that you were doing it and you were good. You won awards, scholarships, and attention. Your art teacher, Ms. Henry, was a godsend. Grey-haired, glasses-wearing, colorful Ms. Henry glided through lessons and projects like it was second nature. She always had pencils in her hair, a mug in her hands, and a kind word on her lips when you entered her classroom. She's the one who pushed you to go to your artsy liberal arts college full of people richer and better than you. Even with her love and support, you struggled and almost dropped out after that first semester.

"There's always someone better," she told you when you ended up crying across from her in a coffee shop. "But there's nobody in the world who can make what you will because there is and never will be another you. I mean, God, what a gift. I'd hate to see you waste it." That sobered you enough to keep going and eventually pursue a teaching certification. Ms. Henry has since retired to the Pacific Northwest with her wife, Mable, and sends you a postcard every once in a while because she believes smartphones will be the downfall of civilization. After so many years in education, you're ready to agree with her.

You sigh, feeling your motivation fluttering away with your breath, and plop your paintbrush down in the cup engraved with the words "DO NOT DRINK" in bold. The canvas doesn't look like much of anything right now— just a mass of colors and shapes that could potentially pass as an abstract version of a landscape. It looks like the other painting you left at the school to work on when you have time. And the painting before that. And the one before that. You curse at exactly the same time your phone buzzes with a text.

You awake?

You don't bother responding and go straight to FaceTiming her. She picks up on the second ring, her beautiful, round face greeting you with a smile. You met Andie during high school, and her effortlessly cool attitude and bulky violin kit quickly became a part of your heart. You two were inseparable all four years of high school, dividing your time between rehearsals and time spent in the studio, but college took you to art school and her to a prestigious orchestra program in Vienna. She's been there ever since graduation, playing for diplomats and royals alike, but she comes home for holidays, and you've been trying to save money to go see her. Being so far from her is hard, but you make it work.

"Why are you awake?" You ask by way of a greeting, more than accustomed to your seven-hour time difference and her early riser habits. She laughs, and you hear a tea kettle whistle in the background.

"Well, hello to you, too," she says. "I have rehearsals all day today, so I got an early start. Why are you awake?"

"I'm staring at my waking nightmare."

"Oh, God, are you having another spiral?"

"I'm a hack."

"You're an artist."

"I got rejected again this weekend," you say as if to prove your point, and she sucks her teeth. "They said my art didn't fit their vision for their exhibition, but to feel free and submit another time."

"Well, they must not know great art when they see it. There will be another exhibition and another chance for you to show off your amazing skills. And when you get accepted, which I know you will, I'll fly in, and we'll drink fancy champagne and talk shit the entire opening night." She says, and you sigh. Her persistent optimism is one of the things you love about her, but sometimes, all you want to do is sulk.

"Or I could fly to you when your first composition gets performed, and we could do all those things in Austria instead of this shithole."

"Hey, some of us like that shithole."

"Some of us haven't lived in the shithole in ten years."

"Touche," she concedes. "But I'm serious about what I said. You're a good artist, just going through a little bump in the road. One day, we'll be really sexy and successful, and we'll look back at this and laugh with our rich spouses while drinking expensive wine."

"One day," you say, smiling. "How are rehearsals going?" She groans at the question, and you laugh. Whenever you talk to her, she's working on a new show or with a new conductor and always has something to say. There are many things you could call your best friend, but lazy is not one of them.

"I feel like we're stuck on this one part, but the conductor won't listen to me. He says he knows better than I do, which might be true, but also, if he just listened to me, then we can move on. I don't know. I'm sure if I poke him enough, he'll have to listen to me."

"Sounds reasonable."

"That's what I'm saying," she says as she shuffles her coffee mug and breakfast to her dining room table before checking the time. "It's midnight there. Don't you have school tomorrow?" She asks, and you sigh.

"And an early morning staff meeting and art club after school."

"Sometimes, I worry about your mental health." She says, and you laugh a little too deliriously to prove her wrong. You stay up talking with her for a while before finally getting hit with a wave of fatigue and crashing into bed.

The next day is not any less hectic than your weekend was. The staff meeting early in the morning is mind-numbing and completely unnecessary. The printer in the teacher's lounge breaks halfway through a heavy-duty print job, and you're left scrambling for new activities and lessons. Not only that, but your students were more out of control than usual, prompting a veteran teacher to come in and scold your class on your behalf. It would be kind if it didn't make you feel two inches tall and your students didn't look at you like you betrayed them. You spend your planning period indulging in the silence of your empty classroom and fighting off a migraine.

The second the final bell sounds, your art club kids are knocking down your door, more than ready to work on their projects for the winter showcase. The winter showcase is hosted by a local art gallery that opens for submissions from students every fall. If a student's work is taken, it gets shown in the gallery, and they get entered into a prize to win money and a chance to paint a mural downtown. It's a big deal. So far, you haven't had a student win first place, but you've had them get very close. You always assure them you're proud of them no matter what, which is especially true when Ellie slinks into your classroom with a shy smile.

"Hey! We're just setting up supplies to work on stuff for the showcase. Do you have something to work on?" You ask, gesturing to the students working around the room in a buzz.

"I think so. Are you gonna play music?"

"Who do you think I am?" You make a face, and she laughs. "Why don't you find a spot and get comfortable while I queue up a playlist?" She hesitates for a second before she takes a deep breath and musters up the courage to approach another student to ask if she can sit with them. They start chatting easily, and her shoulders relax as she gets more and more comfortable with all the new people. You put on a random playlist and move around the room to answer any questions about colors or give an opinion when asked for one. Over the course of an hour, Ellie makes her own little group of friends, and they all talk as if they've known each other forever as they work. She seems so in her own element, and you can't fight the pride beaming in your chest. Okay, so maybe your job can be pretty cool sometimes. Not fame and fortune cool or traveling overseas cool, but cool nevertheless.

Students gradually start packing up their things and leaving when they get texts from impatient parents in the parking lot or close to dinner time, but Ellie stays behind, bobbing her head to a beat or bouncing her knee under the table. She's the only one left in the classroom when you start packing your stuff and preparing the room for the next day. "You've got a ride home, honey?" You ask, and she glances nervously between you and her phone.

"Yeah. My dad should be here soon." She says.

"Alright, well, I've gotta lock up here, but I'll wait outside with you until he gets here."

"Oh, you don't have to do that."

"It'd make me feel better knowing you weren't left behind. Plus, I'm the adult responsible for you until he picks you up, so it's kinda illegal for me to just leave you here." You say, and she looks hesitant again but nods. Together, you walk out of the classroom and through the empty hallways until you get out to the scorching September afternoon. You stand outside in silence for a few seconds, taking in the sunset, before you turn to look at her.

"How'd you like the club?" You ask.

"It was fun! I met lots of cool people."

"I told you, kid. You just needed to give it a chance."

"I know, I know," she rolls her eyes, and you smile. "Thank you for pushing me to go. I don't think I would've gone without you." She's so genuine and kind in her tone that it throws you off-kilter. You're used to being berated by students, staff, and parents. To be told you actually had an impact on someone is not commonplace, to say the least.

"I'm sure you would've found your way there without me."

"Maybe, but you helped me get there a lot sooner than I would've on my own." She says, and you take a deep breath. It feels nice to be acknowledged, especially after the day you've had, and Ellie seems to sense it. You're looking for something to say when she looks down at her shoes and kicks a stray rock. "Just take the compliment and move on. Don't make it a thing."

"Alright." You say, laughing, and she cracks a smile, too. Traffic will be horrible on the way home, and you have nothing to eat for dinner, but it's okay. You did one good thing today. That's all you need.

"Sorry, my dad is taking so long." She changes the subject, a touch of anxiety creeping in, and you shake your head.

"Does he always work late?" You ask, and she shrugs.

"Sometimes. Dad and Uncle Tommy have been picking up jobs to send money to my sister in Boston. "

"What's in Boston for your sister?"

"Medical school. She's about to go into her internship at a hospital there."

"That's a big deal." You say, and she hums.

"Yeah. She'll probably save the world or something one day." There's a hint of something nostalgic in her voice, and you decide to push just a little.

"Do you miss her?"

"A lot," she says. "She's my best friend."

"She's lucky to have you." You say. She smiles but doesn't say anything. You want to ask more about her family, but a rickety, greenish pickup truck comes rumbling through the parking lot before you can. Ellie shifts her backpack on her shoulder as her dad and uncle come into view, and you smile at them. Joel, however, looks frantic.

He's unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the driver's side door before the car can even finish moving. There's dirt on his pants and a little bit of a sunburn across his arms, the muscles straining across the black fabric. He politely pulls the ball cap off his head to reveal sweaty curls as he approaches you, jerking his head toward the truck at Ellie. "Why don't you wait in the truck with Uncle Tommy? He's got a snack for you." He says, and Ellie lights up at the mention of food. When you're alone, he tucks his hands in his pockets and gives you an apologetic look.

"'M so sorry. We got caught up at work and lost track of time. It won't happen again." He says, wringing his hands like he's waiting to be scolded, but you wave him off.

"It's okay. Things happen, and I'm just glad she's got someone picking her up." You say.

"How'd she do today?"

"Really good. I think she fits right in."

"She make some friends?"

"I can't give away all my secrets. What else are y'all gonna talk about at the dinner table?" You tease.

"I guess that's right," he says as he stares at you, a muscle in his jaw jumping. "Thanks for waitin' with her."

"It was my pleasure." You say. You stand awkwardly for a few seconds, rocking back and forth on your feet. His eyes are locked in yours, and there's a silent competition to see who's gonna blink first. "Well, I should let you get home. Have a good night."

"Uh," he starts, stopping you before you can even fully take a step. "I wanted to apologize for the other night. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"You didn't make me uncomfortable," you say a little too quickly, and he smirks. "I was very flattered. Besides, it's not the first time."

"Beautiful woman like you, I'm sure you've got 'em linin' the block for a chance with you." He says. You're dancing a delicate dance here. You're not not flirting, and you're not not interested in him, but if your principal finds out, it could cause a whole new world of problems. Still, it's nice to be wanted after so long of being on your own. You're not a saint, but you're also not doing anything inherently wrong, right?

"The teacher thing usually freaks 'em out before they can get very far."

"That's a damn shame." He's quick with it, and you have to resist the urge to roll your eyes at the line. A buzz in your bag reminds you of the time and why you're still at school, and you find your footing again.

"Uh, I usually give out my contact information to the parents of my art club kids in case they need anything or need to contact me quickly. Since Ellie's an official part of that, I figured I should give you my phone number in case anything comes up. If that's alright?" You say, and he pulls his cracked phone from his back pocket.

"Yeah, yeah. That's more than alright." He says, handing it to you to punch in your information.

"It's for emergency purposes only."

"What d'you consider an emergency?"

"Mr. Miller-"

"Joel." He corrects, and you give him a look as you pass his phone back.

"Don't abuse it. I'd hate to have to put you in a group chat with all the PTA moms."

"You're evil." He groans, and you laugh. Tommy, leaning over and honking the truck horn, interrupts your conversation, and he shoots daggers through the back window.

"I'll see you next week, Joel." You say, dismissing him, and he hesitates for another second before nodding.

"See you next week." He says and turns on his heels to get back in his truck. You think you vaguely catch Joel scolding Tommy for being impatient, but you ignore his deep voice and the engine sputtering as you walk to your own car with a little more pep in your step than this morning.

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 (look at how many of you there are!)

#joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fic #the last of us x reader #joel tlou #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #the last of us fic #the last of us au #joel the last of us #ellie the last of us #joel au #joel miller fluff #joel miller au #tlou hbo #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction

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viihoff · 6 months

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How does Astarion and Tav's relationship develop during their romance? A little analysis and a really long post, part 1 of 2, first and second Acts.

Please note that this is an interpretation. Your Tav's relationships with Astarion might evolve in a different way, it's a mix of both canon and headcanon material. I just love analyzing people and writing stuff.

Act 1.

During this time, Astarion's in survival mode. Being thrown into the world, unknowing if he's free of Cazador's will or not, if he's being chased or not, Astarion resorts to the skeleton of his behavioral pattern - manipulation. He cannot trust Tav, both because he's a vampire (and vamps don't have a good rep, of course), and because the centuries he spent in servitude, deprived of any hope and freedom, thought him to rely on himself, only. He's lost, scared, bewildered. Astarion is drunk with the sense of freedom, but he doesn't know when or how it might end, what's out there for him, and what to do. Seeing Tav, he latches on to them, and starts to plan how to get the most out of them.

So, feeling where the wind's blowing, and seeing Tav as a solidified leader of the group, Astarion starts playing his game. He tries to appear charming and flirts with Tav (and sometimes not only them, but also Gale, Wyll, etc, he needs to have his options open) despite not being whatsoever close to them. It might appear, from Tav's perspective, that Astarion's just like that - overly flirty, promiscuous, a down to earth guy who seeks the simple pleasures. And, maybe, genuinely likes them, why not. But, of course, Astarion doesn't. He actively acts on the persona he created, not willing to share his true feelings yet. He might feel sympathy towards certain Tav's behaviors, like being self-serving, but he doesn't trust them. Again, yet. Even during the first and second sex scenes with Astarion, as he confirms in Act 3 if you didn't get his confession, it was only a transaction for him. His body for your loyalty and a faint chance of you being enamored enough not to stab Astarion in his back.

This is the reason why I don't believe that Astarion develops a crush on Tav in the 1st Act. He prayed for 200 years to the gods for him to be saved, of course they won't send an angel now who would magically sort his shit out for him and basically save him from Cazador, will they? It would be really unfair, after all these years, and totally unrealistic. So, everything he does is an act, confirmed to me by the way Petras acts when you meet him in Act 3. Same mannerism, same learned by heart 'honeyed words' Astarion uses on Tav to lure them in. The way he talks, gestures, plays with the pitch of his voice - Tav's constantly bombarded with the best tactics Astarion has developed to lure people in. There's only a number of times when's genuine - when you reject him, and when he's bitching during the cutscenes and over some of your choices. Right now, the only feeling Astarion's is comfortable to share is anger and mild dissatisfaction. All of his pain is saved for later.

I'm confident to say that spending the night with Tav was a 'duty' of Astarion's, as he himself believed, and he didn't get any initial pleasure in doing it. Of course, he did it willingly (and it was good sex, otherwise Tav wouldn't have been screaming Astarion's name into the night for everyone to hear, lol). However, it was no more than a type of physical labor one performs, totally mechanized.

Act 2.

This is when the immediate danger of being turned into a mindflayer is not a real life threat anymore and being 100% reliant on the good will of Tav isn't a survival strategy.

Genuine friendship starts to develop due to the time spent together and the good things Tav is ready to do for Astarion without asking anything in return. Everyone who's upset over not being able to start as friends with Astarion before initiating the romance - rejoice, I really believe it happens this way in the game. No matter the approval, Astarion begins to warm up to Tav and other companions only in Act 2, feeling comfortable and experiencing true camaraderie for the first time in his life. I say that because I believe that most of the bonding is happening behind the scenes, and the only thing we see is the byproduct. You cease to be a group of survivals in Act 2 and become a real team.

Thus, Astarion begins to feel safe. Not only thanks to Tav being compassionate towards him UNCONDITIONALLY, but because everyone else in your band is ready to protect him and one another. Astarion finds true safety, and, thanks to that, survival mode is finally off.

His mental capacities are finally free to start not only caring about his immediate survival (because he's surrounded by friends, and I don't care how apathetic companions act towards Astarion in his spawn ending, this shit is the result of time crunch, not the way the band would really behave, I'm sure of it), but observe. He sees the person before him, Tav, who does things and doesn't ask shit in return from him, who's genuinely compassionate and kind, and he finally stops viewing this as a weakness. Why? Because it was proven to him by Tav's actions that being a good person is a real life strategy and doesn't always leave you weaker than you were before, but stronger, with more allies and resources than before.

By observing Tav, Astarion sees and understands that there are people who can care for him, and they don't get crashed by the big bad world which is cruel and actively acts against you.

No, the world is indifferent, and shit happens because people choose to act like that. Cazador was a cruel monster to Astarion because he chose to, and Tav cares for him and stands for him because they chose to. There are people who he can trust.

This is the point when Astarion cracks. I believe that he falls for Tav not for their looks or certain temperament (this is the reason why you can romance him as a gnome who he is racist towards, lmao), but they way Tav treats him. He falls for Tav's protecting and kind nature towards him, and after that, I think, he starts seeing beauty in the looks, certain character quirks and stuff like that.

After you helped him decipher his scars and/or protected him from the blood merchant, all of his walls are down. He's a cup full of sheer admiration and gratitude, and, when he confesses, he still doesn't understand that he's in love. He thanks Tav for being there for him, and although he doesn't know what he feels or wants, he enjoys having Tav around him. Being with Tav gave him the strength to believe that good things can happen to him, too. Despite still being in danger from Cazador, he's finally hopeful enough to desire something beyond being away from his master.

He wants revenge. He wants to finally stop pretending. He wants closure. He wants to move on. And he wants Tav.

He wants to treat them the same way they treat him. He finally has the capacity to give back the kindness, because he was given enough of it for him to spare.

And then we move to Act 3, but I will do this part some next time, because this post is already ungodly long. I will also write about the way Astarion's relationship with Durge evolves and how it is a bit different from a standard romance.

Cheers, vampire lovers.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #astarion x tav #text post #next time I will also include some Durge analysis #cause the relationship there is a bit different #you're more of on an equal footing there #I must have made so many mistakes writing this #sorry English is not my first language

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mikanotes · 6 months

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so many furina fic ideas but most don’t include reader at all so… while i figure that out here’s something short furina x gn!reader angst!!! warnings 4.2 spoilers mentions of death and suicide kinda. this has a good ending if u know the archon quest tbh

Furina dances, her hands intertwined with yours, on an empty stage in an empty courtroom. The sound of water rising is audible, hitting the walls of Opera Epiclese with frightening strength.

You both hope and pray to an Archon who has not spoken a word to her people in five centuries to save you from your impending doom— Pray that all will be well in Fontaine, in spite of everything.

Your prayers are not the same.

Furina prays that the Prophecy spares you, for some unknown reason. She prays, selfishly, that you are cursed to never die, just as she is— That you will not leave her alone to cry on a throne that does not belong to her.

You pray that if your life comes to an end, she survives the loneliness. You pray to anyone that will listen to do anything that is destined to make Furina live a happy life, even if it kills anyone else in the process.

(Celestia does not listen. The Heavenly Principles were tricked, they are angry, and your God is killing herself.)

You dance, never spending a second without holding at least one of Furina’s hands, spinning and moving around the stage like everything is alright. Though, if everything was alright, the expressions on your faces would not be so terrified, and your hearts would not feel so heavy.

The song comes to an end, and all that remains is the harsh reality of the Propechy. Furina heaves a sigh, ignoring the tears sliding down her face.

“Tell me.” she says, “You— Who I trust wholeheartedly. Tell me, was I a good Archon?”

You stare at her eyes, before sighing. “The best.” you answer truthfully. “No one cares for their people the way you did. Especially when the people are so ungrateful.” that last part is quieter, but Furina gives you a look.

“Don’t say that.”

You hear the main door to Opera Epiclese break open, the sound of the water, and your end, coming closer at each passing second. You swallow thickly and grab both of Furina’s hands in your own.

“It’ll be alright.” you say, looking at her with wide eyes. Your hands are trembling and she can tell. She shakes her head no, trying to pull away from you.

“This isn’t a goodbye. Don’t make it sound like one.”

You don’t want it to be.

The doors to the room you stand in break and the sea rushes in. You wrap your arms around Furina and hold her as tightly as you can. “If it is, please know you did your very best.”

Furina imagined this scene at least a thousand times. Five hundred years is a long time, long enough to come up with at least a hundred operas and plays about the tragedies that could befall Fontaine. So this scene, she knows she has imagined at least once. But she is no actress in this play anymore. Her true identity, or whatever remains of it, is revealed. She is left to suffer as Furina, and not an Archon, and it somehow makes it all the more painful.

The water engulfs the entire room and she closes her eyes, not ready to face whatever happens next.

She changes her prayers.

Please just let this play have a good ending.

#furina x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #x reader

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satorkiees · 7 months

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my love mine all mine

pairing megumi fushiguro x reader

content: angst to fluff(???), bittersweet

wc : 708 words

the love megumi felt was all consuming. most days, he thought the love he held for you would crush him before any curses could but he hung on even if it was only just.

the autumn winds had begun o whistle within the trees creating an intricate song of the season. but that song could never compete with the beauty you had, the way the orange leaves matched your skin perfectly or how you dressed up the jujustu uniform with legwarmers. everything you did, even if it was something little was something he noticed.

“your hair. did you do something different with it?” he asked offhandedly. you were taken completely out of your own daydream, legs up against your chest and mindlessly painting shapes on the pavement. you pondered for a moment and took a strand and twirled it between your fingers.

“i trimmed it a little, i guess? i’m surprised you noticed.” you replied with your heart not completely in it. these days your heart hadn’t been in anything at all but your own head. recently, you had lost your will to carry on as a jujustu sorcerer. your world was constantly filled with the deaths of people you loved, their blood painting warning for your own inevitable death. as all your classmates were progressing, you could feel yourself slipping behind. but it was too late for you to quit, how could you? if you weren’t there to help those in the need from curses, your friends - megumi, would have to shoulder your selfishness and you wanted nothing to do with that so you carried on.

the love megumi felt for you was all consuming, he was struggling to contain it within himself when every second he was with you it threatened to spill it. lately, you had been quieter than usual, your eye bags had become more sunken in and in general, your light had become; dimmer, darker even.

the both of you were on a mission together assigned by gojo, a mission that once you would protest in jest but not silently accepted. megumi wished he was more like itadori or nobara so he could align his words in a way that could reach out to you, maybe even help you but instead the words were stored deep inside of his heart.

the curse was tough, an assortment of alien-like beings that came one after the other. so you kept beating, beating. beating. until you couldn’t anymore. you could hear megumi a voice faintly behind you but you had lost the strength to even reach out to him anymore. as your eyes began to close over and the curse came closer, the blood of all of those that came before you began to seep out of your own body.

the love megumi felt for you was all consuming, when he saw your body fall limp, all the words he couldn’t once say were let open as he dragged you on his already injured back.

“please be alright.” were the only words he chanted as he limped back to the border that separated jujustu sorcery from the normalcy of regular life. he held you close, his arm placed gently on your ever-bleeding wound. praying to a god he was unsure he existed, he wished for your safety only. he promised to be a better man, promised to be good to you, to everyone, if only you could be saved. an hour or so later, gojo ended up being the one who found the 2 of you entangled with one another despite the abhorrent heat in the barrier. with a gentle flick to his forehead, megumi woke up from his slight slumber. his hand was now soaked in your own blood and it was enough to make him puke on the sight of seeing it. he decided then and there that this all consuming love could not be contained inside of himself for he was only one person.

———

megumi’s love for you was all consuming through and through. though he wish he could tell you and make it known to you and hear a response. instead, he settled for telling you stories upon stories hoping maybe one of them would wake you from your slumber.

a/n : sorry i’ve been gone for so long 🙌🙌 had to come back out of hiatus to write for my pookie wookie megumi

#bugeatermaya #megumi x you #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi fluff #megumi x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #megumi fic

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yan-lorkai · 7 months

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.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: My excuse for writing this is that 99% of my problems would be solved if I were adopted by Vil and Rook, plus it's October so my mind automatically went to several different scenarios involving vampires, you know. Though in the original draft Epel would just kill the reader mercilessly, but I decided to spoil myself a little and made it platonic instead. I'm not sure if I'll do a Halloween event yet, let me know what y'all think about it please.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warning: Yandere content, platonic yandere, RookVi + Epel being their son, gn!reader, some randoms die, description of blood and members though it's not that explicit, reader gets surprised adopted, I think that's all. Let me know if I should add more warnings tho.

You never thought you would miss the sun and its gentle, joyful rays. You never thought you'd miss walking down busy streets and hearing people talking over each other, but in that moment you thought about all these completely mundane things as you ran as fast as your lungs would let you and your legs could carry you.

Whose idea was it to enter the abandoned mansion? You couldn't even remember anymore, panting, leaning on one of the walls to keep yourself upright. What mattered now was where you would escape and how, and if it was really possible. Your pursuers weren't exactly human as they did well to demonstrate by ripping out your friend's throat, laughing as the blood dripped from their fangs.

Maybe, you thought, heart pounding against your ears as you looked from side to side searching for one of the vampires, maybe I could break one of the windows and escape from here.

It wasn't a spectacular plan, but in your head filled with adrenaline and fear it made complete sense. There was no time for "what ifs", there was the here and now. And with that thought you forced yourself to walk once again, holding back the tears of grief and fear inside you, clinging to the futile hope that you would survive the night.

You opened one of the thousands of doors in that dimly lit hallway, biting your lip hard as you forced your eyes to see through the darkness in search of a window. But there was nothing there, no window, no bed or anything, just a very strange smell and the disconcerting sound of a clock.

The air around you seemed to change and you turned around feeling like something or someone had touched your shoulder. Your hand fumbled for the doorknob and you ran out faster than the devil running from the cross, leaving behind only a glimpse of blood and guts that you probably hadn't even noticed. But later perhaps you would understand.

The seconds dragged by, the blonde vampire's laugh still echoing in your mind as your friend asked for help, the expression on your other friends' faces frozen as they tried to escape. The look of disbelief on one of their faces as you abandoned him in order to save yourself.

You no longer knew how many doors you opened, how many exactly the same rooms you entered, how many times had you felt as if someone was watching your futile efforts to survive while silently laughing at your fearful humanity in the face of death. But you were already exhausted and your pursuers hadn't even found you yet - or, on the other hand, maybe they had but didn't want to kill you yet, like a cat playing with a mouse before ending its life.

In the distance, you saw a small silhouette. His lavender hair and almost angelic appearance would have made you trust him if you hadn't seen what he was capable of doing.

For a second, you thought he hadn't seen you and started to slowly walk away, praying that it was just a legend that vampires had super hearing. One foot behind the other, left then right. But then he looked at you, his little eyes seeming to sparkle and he laughed, loudly, extremely loudly.

Without thinking twice, you turned your back to where you had come, running as fast as you could across the little terrain you knew, every place memorized in your mind as you heard his approaching footsteps and cynical laughs. Every second passing like a cinematic scene in which the protagonist is chased by the killer in a generic horror film, everything jumbled together in your head as you panted and ran, and did it all over again.

You allowed yourself to look over your shoulder when everything went silent and the boy was no longer there. But even though you couldn't see him, you could hear him laughing and whispering something to someone else, to another vampire.

You were running too fast to stop when you reached the end of one of the hallways, crashing into one of the walls and sending a hanging mirror crashing to the floor, glass flying everywhere as you forced yourself to stand up and ignore the pain, quickly looking left and right to see where to go.

It makes a difference? You thought bitterly.

But you got back to your feet, tired, sweaty, in all your stupidity you raised your arms and screamed full of frustration. "I'm here, come kill me if you want, oh, mighty vampires."

Just silence and dark. You really felt like a mouse, searching for the cat's paws to avoid being crushed, searching for the cat's fangs to avoid being sucked to death, but the cat didn't seem to care about you enough. Or, initially that was what the feline wanted you to think, but footsteps were heard all around you, behind you, beside you, in front of you, you were surrounded and now they were really coming.

At least I'll punch one of them, you thought with a small smile.

"You're quite troublesome, mortal." A soft voice sounded in your ear, making you shiver all over and turn back to look for its owner. It was the same voice that announced their death to your friends, the same voice that in any other context would have made you smile, as it was a beautiful voice. "Swallow those tears, human, before I give you a reason to cry. Their deaths are your fault, your own death will be your fault for breaking into the home of the night lords and thinking such a transgression will go unpunished."

You touched your eyes and were surprised to notice small tears falling from your eyes, the vampire's words slowly resonating in your mind. It wasn't your idea to come here, but you didn't dissuade your friends even though you knew the legend that surrounded the house. Was it really your fault?

Fatigue seemed to finally be taking over your heavy bones, despite you trying with all your might to keep your concentration and hatred burning within you, despite you trying not to accept the fact that you would die that night.

"Do you practice this speech every day in front of the mirror?" You retorted, lips trembling as they curved into a wry smile.

A laugh. He was laughing at you like you were just a kid who was using the silliest insult they learned to offend people. "Is that the best you can imagine?"

You looked at him, tall, blond, wondering if such a freak had ever been human, wondering how someone could lose their morals so frivolously and take pleasure in killing and dismembering humans for fun. And you didn't answer him, biting your tongue hard to keep from shouting insults.

"Oh, but Roi du Poison, they're so cute." Another voice echoed, this time you felt a hand gently smoothing your hair with fingers so light you swore they were made of feathers, the pale face resting just above your shoulder, freezing you in the same second as the two of you made eye contact. "Can't we keep them instead?"

Rook still half hugging you, half enjoying the smell of your blood; his arms tightened around your waist as you tried to push him away with all the strength you could muster. Pushing and clawing his shoulders away, trying to kick him and fighting him.

But he felt like a block of concrete, motionless, hard and smiling so gently at you and your efforts. His hands continued twirling strands of your hair and drinking in your expression of discomfort, as if all this were normal.

"Yes please." The same boy from before asked, an excited gleam passing through his eyes as he looked from you to the other vampire. "You promised me I would have a little sibling."

Little sibling…?

If you hadn't had a vampire literally holding you so tenderly but firmly in that moment, his face resting on your neck, maybe you would have laughed and screamed that you wouldn't be the sibling of a murderer and that if you could you would kill them all with a stake. Or, anything sharp you had on hand.

But you held back, taking deep breaths, just waiting for the right moment to act. Maybe some of your other friends had managed to escape and would come back soon to help you.

The vampire, Vil, looked at your tired figure with attentive eyes. Excruciating moments passed in total silence, you being unable to hear your own heavy breathing or the way your heart beat as you waited.

You waited for his attack, for his mocking laugh. Your hands closed ready to hit the face of the first vampire who dared to try to bite you. It was foolish to think that this would do anything, if anything it would make them angry and kill you more slowly to see you suffer.

Vil looked at Rook, watching how he was intoxicated by the smell of your sweet blood and they both looked at each other, talking, arguing silently while Epel looked at his dads impatiently, shifting his weight from one leg to another, eager for an answer.

"Or you can let me go." You argued. "I promise I won't tell anyone anything."

But the three men completely ignored you, deaf to your suggestions and blind to your justified fear. Rook slowly released his tight grip on your waist and you felt as if you could breathe again, as if pressure had left your entire body, which was paralyzed.

"They're in your capable hands, son." Vil stated, hands resting on his hips as he looked at the boy.

Not so subtly, you move away from the reach of Rook's nimble arms, feeling exposed as all the vampires look at you. A different look; a look you don't give at your food, the bile in your stomach began to stir and you took a deep breath.

Epel, the youngest vampire, moved. His footsteps being so silent against the floorboards that if you took your eyes off him you wouldn't be able to see him approach.

"I was like you a long time ago," He murmured, baring his fangs in a small smile too intimidating to be casual. "but you don't need to be afraid, y'know"

"I don't kill people." You countered. "I'm not a monster like you."

Epel smiled once more, his eyes shining with recognition. "Every new vampire says that. I said that too and you say it now, but in the future you will kill, because that's what we do to survive."

One second he was in front of you and the next he was gone, leaving behind only a bad feeling of not knowing which side he would attack from. Rook and Vil watch the events unfold from a safe distance.

You forced your ears to work to their fullest, searching everywhere for him.

Suddenly, you heard him step on the shards of broken glass and you turned around, your closed fist making direct contact with his face. Epel staggered in surprise as if he didn't expect you to fight back, but soon he looked at you and smiled.

It was actually a dance, the way you dodged and tried to attack him. But the problem with dancing is that it requires good physical condition and you were running for a long time, running to get to that damn house and then running to try to escape the house, a false step took you to the ground in moments and Epel pressed his foot on your stomach keeping you pinned to the ground.

You continued to fight with all your might, but he was relentless. As immobile as Rook, so impossible to escape and face to face with your death, tears of anger and helplessness flowed from your eyes in abundance against your will.

You wouldn't be graced with death like your friends, but it would be a death all the same. A death without sunlight, destined to know that the people who care about you would be looking for you, looking for your body, without knowing what really happened that Halloween night.

"We'll have a lot of fun when you wake up, lil sib." He whispered, it was supposed to be something comforting, but it sounded extremely condescending.

Despite the difference in height between you and him, you felt smaller, much smaller in the face of the impotence and strength of that delirious look. "When you wake up I will show you the best plains, the best hunting places and you will understand everything from my perspective."

"I'll kill you when I wake up." You promised him, dryly, firmly.

And you don't break your promises.

Epel ignored your words as he knelt beside you, cold fingers holding your hands without much effort as his face moved closer and closer to your neck. His pink lips brushed against your skin.

"You fought well, but you must accept your defeat."

He bit your neck before you could retort, injecting his vampiric venom that would kill you in a few minutes, laying your body on the ground once again. The boy remained sitting next to you, watching every pained expression pass across your face and trying to remember if he reacted the same way.

A lot of time had passed and he couldn't remember. Soon, you wouldn't remember your unfounded fear either, soon, you and he could do what siblings do, whatever that is. For the past five hundred years he has been his dads' only child, but Epel likes to think he will make a good big brother to you.

"Sweet dreams, Yuu."

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taggedmemes · 3 months

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SENTENCE MEME BALDUR'S GATE 3 / PART FIVE

we won't survive this if we don't stand together.

it is through conflict that we strengthen our bonds.

the next resolution may not end in her favor.

it's a question that burns in my belly day and night.

have you been looking at my differently?

i was too hasty to judge you.

i thought you witless, gutless, and unimpressively bland.

i thought you cruel, stubborn, and judgmental.

you have stoked fires i didn't know i possessed.

you've gained my respect.

you know how to set my heart racing.

we'll kiss and make up in our own time.

someone prodding at a newly opened wound doesn't help matters.

admirable conviction.

how can you go through all this trouble and not understand why?

secrecy is ingrained in me.

i like night orchids and can't swim.

i can't remember much of myself.

i hope that's the end of this silly quarrel.

killing's never my first choice, but they were too dangerous to leave alive.

i've come to sate you, and be sated.

time for pleasure has passed.

there's something i want to talk to you about, something important.

i owe you my life.

i may not have survived that night without you.

i'm trying to say that you've earned my trust in a way very few ever have.

i'm not usually one to elaborate if i can avoid it.

most fear the dark, because in darkness they see their fears reflected.

in darkness we do not hide, we act.

you pray with such conviction.

the presence of your goddess must fill your whole being.

perhaps we need not speak farewells.

i never pictured myself as a hero.

never thought i'd be the one they toast for saving so many lives.

i hate it, this is awful.

i would've liked more for my trouble than a pat on the head and vinegar for wine.

all i want is a little fun.

it's not you, it's me. i have standards.

you have no idea how good it feels to see these people smiling.

don't waste a night like this talking to me.

i thought you might care to have a drink with me.

i rarely imbibe, the stuff goes right to my head.

before you know it, i'd be breaking into song or declaring love to the first person i laid eyes on.

you strike me as extremely resourceful.

there are many grateful people here who want to spend time with you.

i must not keep you all to myself, as enjoyable as that may be.

this might be the wine talking, but i'm feeling inspired.

look at them all, guzzling poison l ike we've the right to be happy.

i need to dance.. nope, i need to lie down.

the others will kill me if i keep you all to myself.

spontaneous thank-yous make me suspicious.

this is a night for celebration, not suspicion.

amid all this merriment, i wasn't sure we'd have a chance to speak this evening.

were our bond a little stronger, i might even have shared a moment of magic with you.

our fledgling acquaintanceship has not yet taken flight.

such intimacy will have to wait.

they could not match your nerve today.

it was enough to drive me to madness.

i won't be nursing their pounding heads and sicks stomachs in the morning.

everyone seems to be in high spirits.

you know who i never thought i'd find myself caring for.

i think you'll find i've been showing ample concern for myself since the moment we met.

share a bottle with me?

i'll find you after everyone's turned in for the night.

i think a toast is in order. any suggestions?

sounds like you just need a little more liquid inspiration.

you're beautiful.

i know [i'm beautiful], but you're sweet to notice.

i'll trust your judgement.

i do not truly care if you approve.

that night meant a lot to me.

i'm not sure what kind of sourtship we'll be afforded, given all that we're facing.

if you want to see where this goes, i do as well.

we share something special.

my people are nothing if not resourceful.

thought i'd shaken you for good.

that'll teach me to underestimate you.

she's trying to trick us, don't believe her lies.

when i saw an opportunity to get away, i took it.

you're asking me to trust a devil.

i don't want this to end badly for either of us.

you know monsters, right? better than anyone?

thought i was going to have to take your head.

there have been enough threats today.

how would you feel about helping me kill some evil bastards?

turns out i've got a knack for killing demons.

she looks like she could throw me over her shoulders and carry me to safety.

i'd hug you if it wouldn't scorch your skin off.

she's got the brawn of a warrior and the wiles of a survivor.

she speaks her mind, plainly and fully.

in other circumstances, i would have done the same.

best to not dwell on nights past.

you've been naughty.

you know what happens when you're naughty.

aren't you a luscious thing.

if i had a warm heart, i'm sure it would be skipping.

i've taken more pleasant shits than you.

that's no kind of talk for a lady.

you better not lay a damned finger on [name].

a promise broken, a price paid.

been a long time since someone stuck their neck out for me like that.

he's a good man, maybe the best of us.

the sex gets better the more experience you have with someone.

#bg3 meme #text meme #rp sentence meme #sentence prompts #rp sentences #sentence meme #sentence starters #starter sentences #starter meme #rp sentence prompts #rp starters

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chiquitafresa · 2 months

Note

I hope you don’t mind me sharing my staticapple headcanons in return-

My favorite headcanon is that Vox teaches Lucifer how to game and Lucifer is comedically bad at it . But if anyone in the shared lobby says anything, you bet your ass whoever did it is getting doxxed .

Also! I don’t think either of them can cook to save their lives . On one of their early dates, Lucifer invited Vox to his house for a home cooked meal, and realizes a tad too late he has no clue how to cook . Vox comes to see him fussing over burnt ramen . They end up ordering in . (They might learn to cook later though, who knows)

Lucifer makes a habit of showing up to places like hours before it’s time to start and just waits at the door except Vox has cameras everywhere so he notices this and ends up letting him in early (Lucifer gets pretty flustered at this the first time it happens). Vox does consider telling him a meeting time that’s later so he’s not comically early, but part of him enjoys getting to spend a few hours before schedule with his bf.

Vox doesn’t really know how to connect to Charlie at first- well he does, but it mostly involves several manipulative tactics that pray on her better nature instead of genuinely just letting her get to know him and vice versa . Eventually they bond by drawing together, even though Vox isn’t the best at it-

Also Lucifer has really horrible memory with conversations, but luckily Vox has surveillance everywhere! He can just record his bf’s conversations for him! Wait what do you mean that’s a breach of privacy? (They have a very long conversation about boundaries after this . )

I think Vox would hype Lucifer up so fucking much too . Not that it’s really necessary cause cmon, king of hell, but it’s like that meme . If I had a lame ass boyfriend I would hype him up so much, I’d be like here comes the specialest boy ever if you don’t clap I’ll blow up this whole building . That’s them . It’s even funnier because Vox is just as much of a cringefail dumbass as Lucifer is .

They talk about how much they hate Alastor but Lucifer notices that Vox is putting waaaaayy too much weight on it . I think they could actually help eachother a lot in this specific aspect because they’re both people who tend to define themselves off of their relationships, and obsess over one particular relationship to the point of it being unhealthy . (Like, I’m not sure if you’ve seen it, but theres a post about how Vox isn’t really happy or excited about anything until Alastor shows up? And Lucifer is the same way with Charlie calling him! I think Lucifer having a person in his life that has nothing to do with his daughter before meeting him would be pretty welcome, and Vox having someone who can validate his feelings about Alastor without enabling him is also just soooo)

Okay yeah that’s my take on them . I really like how you draw them btw . They’re very cute <3

OH MY GOD ANON I LOVE THIS!!! Your making me cry over how cute they’re are ❤️

I mean like they’re so cute to think about, like how would they first meet? How will Vox react to Lucifer asking him out???

They are having me on a choke hold 😭😭😭

#vox hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #vox fanart #fanart #hazbin hotel vox #lucifer hazbin #lucifer morningstar #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #headcanon #staticapple #i love them so much #thank you anon #they stupid together

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jokingmisfit · 11 days

Text

Not Yet Forgotten

Platonic Future Hamato Brothers x Neglected Reader

Warnings- Angst with Happy Ending, Reader is Casey Jr's Sibling, Neglectful Parental Figures, Severe Injuries, Mentions of Blood and Broken Bones, Near Death Experience, Hurt with Comfort, Head Injury, Mention of Reader having Mystic Powers

Notes- I may make a different version from 3rd person pov to show how bad the boys felt. I don't know anything about medicine so please forgive me for any incorrect everything. Wrote this right before therapy and I think it shows. Lol, Enjoy!

Your breathing was fast, but muffled through your hand. It felt like your lungs were on fire. You don't know how far you've run, but you hope that it's far enough.

Only an hour earlier, Krang dogs surrounded you and your crew. The rest were already dead... You were frightened and angry. You knew that if only they'd taught you how to fight as well as they had Casey, then you wouldn't be in this situation. They didn't care for you. Your brother being far too important, apparently, for you to be cared for at all.

Made sense in your mind. You didn't look like your mother like Casey did. Didn't share a name or even blood. Just another "stray" she'd picked up, but she loved you. In her own way. Too bad when she died the knowledge she left you with was all you'd be given. No sessions with Leonardo. No kind words from Michelangelo or Raphael. No scolding on health or knowledge from Donatello. It was like you were invisible. Unimportant.

You and your team had done so much. Achieved amazing things, but every achievement was overlooked. Every injury was ignored. Perhaps you did learn a few things... Fending for yourself. That didn't help now, though.

Climbing the rubble. You could feel the parts of your body move in ways they weren't made for. You were strong but how strong would you have to be to defy death itself. You had sent out the SOS so long ago, yet it seems as if nobody will come.

Your blood stained broken concrete rocks. You prayed to whatever higher being was above that, just this once, they wouldn't overlook you. That the people who were supposed to care the most would save you.

You finally collapsed at the top of the heap. Only small peaks of the red sky could be seen. You were safe, for now, but you were bloodied and broken. Your stash of medical supplies were carried by a dead man. You wouldn't last, not long, at least.

You hit the alert again seeing as the purple light went out. Hitting the button over and over as your breath thinned. It felt harder to breathe with every second.

An alert came back to you. A communication. You heard April once say it was like a phone call. Whatever that was. You pressed the button to hear the voice on the other end. It was Donatellos.

"Are you there? Can you hear me?" His voice was wavering. Something you'd never heard before.

With a raspy tone you whispered out your response. "You got... got te loc-location right?"

He sighed on the other end. "Yes we have it. A rescue team has already found the rest. Where are you hurt?"

"Hehe." Your laugh is cut off by coughing. Blood bubbling up in your lungs and throat. Looking at the gashes and stuck out bones, you answer. "Every- Everywhere..."

Silence met you on the other end. Silence and the clicking of the keyboard.

A deep breath, and you talk again. "I know... I- I know you all... Probably don't- don't care... but I don't wanna die... I don wanna die." A sob escapes your mouth, cutting off your sentence.

The pain and fear causing tears to cascade down your face.

The clicking stopped at your words.

Donatello responds after a few seconds. "They're almost there... I- You need to stay awake and you'll be fine. We- I won't let you die."

"I'm- I'm so sorry..." Your breath stops in your chest. "I shoulda- should of done better... I try- tried so hard... Was never good enough. I can't- can't breathe." Your words are heavy and painful as you sob them out.

"HELLO!" You heard Leonardo yell.

Before you had a chance to answer a light came from your gear. The communication line ending and sends an alert to the other mutant.

Footsteps could be heard from multiple beings. Talking and panic is heard as you stare at the broken roof with blurry eyes.

Raphael's face coming into view before anything else. If you weren't in so much pain you'd smile at him. Instead you stare as he picks you up gently. His words sound soft but melt in your head making them unknown. He holds you close and moves quickly.

A whisper escapes you. "you came..." The statement soft and broken from your lips. The only evidence he heard you being the tilt of his head as he stares with worried eyes.

You held on tightly to your consciences. You held on for however long it took to be laid on a table. Long enough to have something put over your face. Long enough to feel a hand pet your head slightly as your eyes finally close.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It hurt. Everything hurt. Your eyes flutter open, but they're unfocused.

"They're awake!" You heard someone yell.

You flinch at the noise. A whine escaping the back of your throat from the pain.

"Be quiet. They're not going to react well to loud noises." You heard another voice scolds matter-of-factly.

You huff out heavy breaths. You try sitting up only for a large hand to, gently, hold you down. You blink several times to try and see better. Figures, shapes, and colors bounced around but nothing appeared sensical.

"How are they?" A voice says nervously and stern at the same time. Their footsteps stop towards you.

The hands that were moving on and around you pause for a moment before an answer. "They're discombobulated."

"What the hell? English, Donnie." The voice answers.

Your voice is scratchy and comes out in squeaks. "Don- Donnie?"

Your question goes unanswered, but you were glad you finally knew who one of the voices belonged to. You were with Donatello.

"They had a head injury, so their brains jumbled. They can't see straight... At least we can be sure that they can hear fine." He answers with distaste.

A hand sets itself on your head and plays with your hair. The voice above you talks nervously. "So shouldn't we be talking to them? They're probably so scared right now. Aren't you?"

You realize that the end was directed at you, but you lost the energy to answer. You tried to speak, but nothing came out, as if your body didn't agree with your mind."

"Mikey’s right," The deep voice spoke. "We need to comfort them right now."

You wanted to tell them not to force themselves. That you knew they were only here because you were hurt. That once you were better they'd go back to the way it was before. But you couldn't speak, and the feeling of actually being cared for felt so nice.

The weight in your chest may have been painful, but it felt so good to be loved. If your head wasn't so fuzzy you might have cried.

Your name was called, almost urgently. You hadn't realized you weren't listening. So caught up in your own head that you forgot to listen.

You looked slightly to the person calling out to you.

"You still in there, kid? Lost ya there for a second huh?" You could hear the smile in his voice.

That was Leonardo right. He's the one to smile when things are bad. That means the deep voice was Raphael... All four of them were there for you.

You wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. Maybe you were imagining things?

"You need to relax. Your heart rate is spiking..." Donatello tells you strictly.

Raphael's voice picked up from the foot of your bed. "Don, I don't think they can necessarily control that... Y'know?"

"Sigh," Donatello answers him. "I'll fix it myself."

You felt the bed adjust, setting you up slightly. You felt his hand on your arm fiddle with something sticking out of it.

You felt calmer, almost, instantly. Surprisingly, your vision cleared slightly. Things still blurred but you could make out their faces so much more.

A crowd of turtles that left no space to see what room you were in. The lights still felt too bright, yet they were dimmer than any room you’ve been to. The blue lights gave you more of a clue. The screens lights bouncing and reflecting off the men. Was this Donatello’s lab? It had to be.

With your eyes now clearer you were able to hold them onto the figures separately. Their blurred faces held concern, fear… It was definitely a sight.

“You feelin’ better?” Raphael asked sweetly. He loomed over the edge of the bed, yet still he managed to keep a distance.

Despite the medicine making you feel better your head and chest still layed heavy on the bed. The only response you could manage was a broken noise from the back of your throat.

Leonardo laughs sadly. “Y’know maybe we shouldn’t ask them too many questions, heh.”

If you could shake your head in agreement you would. The other three certainly did, or at least it looked like they did.

You took a deep breath in and out letting everything sink into your skin, into your bones. You had your own list of questions you wanted to ask them. Like, how bad is the damage? Why are all four of you here, there’s more important things to do? Did any of the others live?

You could feel all four eyes on you. Feel them stare like you were the only thing worth looking at. It confused you, so you turned your eyes to the only one who you knew had all the answers, Donatello.

“Right, well I suppose you want answers. Yes?” He asked, oddly nervous. “Where to start,” he whispered to his screen before sighing. “You have a major concussion, obviously, you have two broken ribs, a broken leg, a sprain in your right arm, you have large lacerations on your abdomen, and you had punctured one of your lungs.” He lists off easily. “All of which have been cared for, however you will be immobile for quite a while. I estimate approximately 12 weeks and 3 days. Do you understand?” He asks you calmly.

You huffed at him, hoping he would understand that you were listening. He seemed satisfied with your response and went back to typing on the screen. Of course you were slightly confused by this as you hoped he’d elaborate on why they were all there.

Clearly noticing your confusion Raphael talks with guilt. “I think they’re confused on why we’re here…”

He says it like he can read your mind.

“Why would they be confused about that?” Michelangelo laughs out shakily.

“Probably, because we’ve neglected them for years.” Donatello answers within seconds.

Leonardo being the next to speak, like they were taking turns. “We really fucked up that bad, huh kid?”

You couldn’t hold his gaze. The guilt was so evident on his face. You’d never imagined they’d realize what they’ve done. You pictured you’d grow into an adult and leave the Resistance without anyone knowing you were gone.

“Listen, I know- We know we should’ve done better for you…” Leonardo sighs. “You are just as important as everyone else. As the Resistance. As Casey Jr. I was always so caught up with him and being a leader I forgot that I had to be there for you. You always seem to have a hold on everything. Always seemed so sure. So confident… I never thought you might need help to. It was such a terrible mistake and I should have known better, should’ve been more and done more for you,” He leans over and grabs your hand gently. “I promise to never act like that again. I will never let anything hurt you like this. I will never leave you alone again. I swear on my life kid I will do anything, everything to make this up to you.” Tears from his eyes fell onto your clasped hands.

You couldn’t hide the shock from your eyes as you were crying too. It was like your body finally jump started and tears fell so freely.

“You were always so strong,” Raphael starts. “I don’t think any of us thought that our lack of attention would hurt you so much. You always shined so brightly on your own.” He chuckled sadly. “I never thought you’d need us so much, Jr’s strong too, but he relied on your mom more than you so when she died we- I thought you could handle yourself. You’d never seemed to waver. I’m so sorry.”

The regret he held in his words weighed heavy on your mind causing more tears to fall from your eyes.

“My turn already?” Michelangelo laughed, tears in his own eyes. “Heh, I remember this one time I was talking to one of your group members, she seemed so excited to join your team. I remember I asked her what she was so excited for… It was you. She told me that she had seen you and your team fight. Saw how well you worked together, but she was mesmerized by you. She told me years ago she idolized me for my mystic abilities,” He laughs quietly. “But she admitted in this conversation that she idolized you even more. Because you were more like her than I was and your mystic abilities were so strong…” He pauses with a sad silence. “A part of that conversation fortified in my mind that you didn’t need anyone. You were able to figure everything out all on your own. Lead your own team. Fight and save lives like a pro. I should have taken into perspective your feelings. I used to be so good at feelings, but it seems I’ve lost my way a little bit. But I promise not anymore. You’re never going to feel left out again. I guarantee it!” He ends off happily

Silence fills the room. The only thing truly heard was the buzz of machines and various sniffles.

The silence was cut off again by Raphael. “Donnie… Are you going to say anything?” He asked both encouragingly and authoritatively.

“Sigh.” Donatello stated tiredly. He turned to face you more. “I’m not good with emotions. They were never something I could grasp fully. I’ve worked hard on fixing that, but I see in some areas I have… failed. I personally assumed if you needed help you would come to me, however looking back it’s clear you had and I pushed you away.” He states uncomfortably. “As an adult I should have been more prepared and I wasn’t… You were just a child, you are a child, and you’ve experienced so much on your own. I can assure that we plan on remedying that.” He ends sincerely.

After listening carefully to all their words your heart swelled with happiness. You were still afraid that they may not be true, but you were hopeful and so glad to finally be seen. The love you felt radiate off them in blissful waves made you smile. You forgave them as soon as their words left their mouths. As soon as they told you they cared. There was nothing better than feeling true love for what felt like the first time. You couldn’t help but be happy.

“Get some sleep, Kid,” Leonardo says. “We’ll be here when you wake up.”

#rottmnt #save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #unpause rise of the tmnt #rottmnt x reader #platonic rottmnt x reader #future rottmnt x reader #platonic future rottmnt x reader #platonic donatello x reader #platonic leonardo x reader #platonic raphael x reader #platonic michelangelo x reader

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xhoneygirlxx · 9 months

Text

Woman

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

summary: all the phases of your relationship with Eddie. Based off of the song 'Woman' by Mumford and Sons.

warnings: reader and Eddie are both in their 20's. talks of bad upbringings, bad relationships, reader gets cheated on. swearing, fluff, angst, smut. 18+ MINORS DNI. if there are any grammar errors, no there's not :) the ending feels rushed so lets not talk about it.

a/n: hi guys i'm honey and this is the first time I've written something since I was 15. I'm not new to this fandom but this page is, so I hope to write more things over time. Please be kind to me or else I'll cry.

The golden rays of the sun filter in from the open window, cascading a pretty glow into the bedroom. A gentle breeze flits through the room, carrying the songs from the birds in the trees. Eddie’s not too sure what time it is, how long he’s been awake, or if he even fell asleep, all he knows is he’s been staring at you. He knows how creepy it might be to do so, he just can’t help it. How beautiful you look shimmering in the morning sunlight like some sort of religious being, a true picture of a goddess laid beside him - his own personal Aphrodite. He marvels at you like you’re a painting on the ceiling of the Sistine chapel. His eyes trace over your features, soaking them all up so he can remember you like this for the rest of his life. Everything about you is perfect, a statue carved from marble by Michelangelo himself.

He’s intoxicated by the scent of you, the vanilla soap you used the night before when you took a shower after work, filling his nose with every breath he takes. His fingertips slowly drag along your skin as he maps out the slope of your body. His touch is featherlight, too worried that his calloused fingerprints will ruin the softness of your skin. He always wonders how you manage to be so soft all year round, albeit knowing you always moisturize, he likes to think it’s all you and not some expensive ass lotion.

Your hair is a bit messy from being tossed and turned on all night, and yet it has never looked so perfect to him, he would never mention it to you knowing you’d scoff in disagreement. Every once and a while, your eyebrows pull together or your lips twitch. He likes to think you’re dreaming of him.

Eddie is one hundred percent sure that if it wasn’t for the steady rise and fall of your chest and the soft snores falling from your lips anchoring him to the bed, he'd ascend into the clouds above. Eddie Munson is not a religious man, but he thanks whatever God is up above for sending an angel like you to him. He never understood the people who hand out pamphlets about religions, devoting their whole being for their God, but now he does because he’d do it for you. The poor son of a bitch would build churches and museums in your honor, scream from rooftops, move mountains, and ultimately sacrifice himself for you. Even if it’s sacrilegious to pray to a statue of you, he’d do it every day and night, asking for salvation. No, he wasn’t a religious person but for you, he would be.

From the time Eddie was born, the cards that were dealt to him were just unfair. His mom and dad never loved each other, always screaming and fighting every day creating a war zone instead of a household. After his mom left and his dad was shipped off to prison, his Uncle Wayne took him in. Although he and the older man loved one another, they never really said it, only ever showing it by doing little things for each other. Every father’s day he’d save up money from doing odd jobs around the trailer park to get Wayne a new mug. Wayne always picked up new patches for Eddie to sew on to his clothes or guitar strings anytime he had the extra cash. It was unspoken but they knew they loved one another like father and son.

When he got to high school, girls never looked his way and if they did they never wanted to keep him. Doing whatever they could for a deal on some bud and leaving. It became a routine for the metalhead, he’d get off, they’d get cheaper weed, and they’d go their separate ways. Eddie knew he was disposable and that was fine with him. Hell he was used to it by now, his parents didn’t want him, the girls at school and the hideout didn’t want him either, but he had Wayne and his friends. That's all he needed. Until he met you.

It was a shitty September day, the kind of shitty where it’s nothing but gray clouds and no hint of the sun. Leaves had started to die away, slowly falling one by one just to be picked up and whirled around by the wind. The chill of the air started to colder by the time Eddie had left work. If the weather wasn’t miserable enough, the customers he’d dealt with definitely were. One by one they crept into the shop, complaining about popped tires and arguing over wait times. Also, it didn't help that the garage was getting colder with the changing weather. No matter how many layers he wore, it never subdued the throbbing pains in his back and knees. Yeah he had a pretty shitty day but it wasn’t something a new book and a cold one would fix. When he approached the small bookstore on Main Street, he could feel the relief wash over him. Making his way over to the new release section, he picked up what he had been looking for.

He was busy reading the back cover of the book to notice you walking down the aisle. To be fair, you should have been paying more attention to where you were going, but the books in your hands had your attention, stopping you from seeing the cute man that you were close to coming in contact with. With a loud thud, your bodies collide causing you to drop the books you’d been holding. Eddie immediately bent down, picking up what had been dropped, too busy apologizing for being in the way to even see who he was speaking to. Then he heard your voice, so saccharine and smooth it knocked his breath from his chest. Finally moving his gaze to you, he was blinded by the light you had brought in. To this day he jokes about it, telling you how you’re the personification of the sun on a cloudy day. He’s sure he made a fool out of himself with the way he tripped over his words and blushed too hard any time you spoke. It didn’t matter though, because you’d giggle and he’d redden more and more. That day Eddie left the bookstore with his new book and your number clutched in his palm.

September 20th, 1987, that was your first date and that date would be seared into Eddie’s brain for the rest of his life. He called you earlier that week asking if you’d want to get coffee, and you were quick to agree. Never being on time for anything in life, Eddie made sure to arrive twenty minutes before you planned on meeting. To say he was nervous would be an overstatement, he was a god forsaken mess. Knees shaking with every passing second, palms sweating from pure anxiety. Ever the gentleman, he ordered you a coffee, something the barista had whipped up after he told them he didn’t know what you liked. Taking a seat near the window, he instantly regretted guessing your order. God what if she doesn’t like it? What even was it? Cinnamon, caramel, peanut? Oh Jesus, you were probably allergic to nuts. Good going Munson, you just killed your date, he thought to himself.

Before he could throw the drink away, the bell above the door chimed. When he looked up, he swore the gates of heaven opened up. The pretty white dress you wore swayed with the small breeze that followed behind you. You’d look heaven sent. When your eyes met his, you lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree, a big smile etched on your face to prove it. You were so pretty and it made his heart beat out of his chest. He’s sure he looked like a total goof, like a giant puppy excited to see their owner coming home. All the thoughts he had in his brain, the opening line he had thought up to say to you, had all been thrown out the window.

By the time you had made it to him, he had been standing up. Before you could reach for a hug or handshake, his arm shot out with the cup of coffee he had bought you, the same one he was about to throw away twenty seconds ago.

“I um, I got you a coffee.” His cheeks turned pink as he handed you the cup. Then all the thoughts of your possible nut allergy came back. “It’s cinnamon caramel peanut or something. If you don’t like it I can get you a new one.” You laughed and he didn’t care if it was at him or with him, because he would do anything to hear it again.

“It’s perfect, thank you.” You smiled again. “It’s a cinnamon dolce latte, by the way.” He tilted his head in confusion, wondering how on earth you knew that. When you turned your cup to show the black sharpie, he dipped his head in pure embarrassment but then you giggled again and he didn’t feel as bad.

The two of you sat in the corner by the window for what felt like hours, talking about anything and everything. Eddie told you about his job at Frank’s garage, about his friends and uncle Wayne. The metalhead turned bashful when he mentioned his D&D group, but he was quickly relieved when you told him how cool you thought it was, always wanting to play yourself as a kid but your brother never wanted to teach you how. He told you about his sweetheart and his band, how he used to think he’d be a rockstar one day. With every little detail he told about himself, you looked at him with such adoration and it made his heart squeeze.

He sat and listened as you told your story about packing up your car and leaving your old life behind. You needed a new start you told him, one where you could truly be happy. Once you’d gotten here, you found a cozy little house on Biel Street. Apparently the man who sold it to you, is the nephew of the woman who runs the floral shop in town. Within a week you’d gotten the job. It was definitely a change up from your old life, switching out pencil skirts and kitten heels for your office job to jeans and sneakers for your new laid back one. City life was definitely different from the small town you’d chosen but it’s what you needed.

You’d recently ended a two year relationship with your shitty ex and even if it didn’t seem rational at the time, you quit your job and moved on. He didn’t push much on the topic of your ex and neither did you but you made sure to reassure him that you were over the whole situation. Eddie learned that you had a brother living in Chicago and your parents had long moved to Florida after they retired. The metal head made sure to make mental notes of every single thing you told him. How you won’t talk in the morning until you have a sip of coffee, how you like to annotate your books even if it’s frowned upon by others, and that you hope to get a cat one day.

He walked you to your car that night, even though it was twelve feet away from his own. The look in your eyes was the same way he felt, neither of you wanted to leave. Trying to drag out the minutes as long as you could, you leaned against your car door fiddling with the sleeves of your cream colored sweater.

“I had a really good time Eddie,” sincerity dripping from your words. You looked so stunning standing there, highlighted by the moon and glow of the street lights.

“I did too,” blush creeping up from his neck to his cheeks, “I hope I’m not being too forward, but would you like to go out again sometime?” He hoped you didn’t hear the nervousness in his words.

“Yeah,” you said sweetly, “I’d really like that.” You beamed up at him and he was a goner.

That night, you kissed him.

No drug could give him the same high the way your lips on his did. On the drive home, his cheeks ached from how much he grinned. When he got into bed that night, he stared up at the ceiling forcing his brain to play out the events over and over again.

“She kissed me.”

The heat coming from the Harrington’s fire pit wraps the backyard in a blanket of warmth, beating off the nipping bite of the mid October breeze. The sky above is clear of any clouds to hide the small twinkle of the stars, the moon hanging high above the backyard. The leaves fall from the trees in red, orange, and brown piles. You and Eddie had been seeing each other almost every other day since that first date. It had been a month to be exact, not like Eddie was counting the days or anything.

For the past couple of weeks, you had been the discussion of every conversation he had with his friends. They wanted to know when they’d get to meet you, if you guys were officially dating, what you were like. Honestly, he kicked himself the first time he brought you up because he knew there would be thousands of questions to follow. Eddie knew that it was because they cared for him, wanting to make sure that whoever he had been seeing had their seal of approval.

So when Steve mentioned having a bonfire last weekend, he knew it was a secret ploy to meet you. You talked about wanting to meet his friends, yet he was terrified at the idea of you meeting the gaggle of idiots. Dustin would probably bring up some embarrassing memories, like how he shot coke out of his nose at lunch that one time. It made his head spin with every embarrassing thing that he’s ever done in his life, all the things that would pop in his head at random times that made him full body cringe.

The minute he brought it up to you though, you jumped up and down excited that you’d finally get to meet them. He knew he couldn’t say no to you, especially when you had that look of giddiness. Eyes big with elation, infectious smile, clapping your hands together, kind of excitement. God, he could never say no to you.

Now you’re here and you can’t be any happier. Eddie stands across from you, separated by the dancing flames of the fire. He’s standing with a beer in his hand, the story that Robin and Steve are telling becomes background noise. He’s honed in on you, on the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh. Max and El are talking to you about something he can’t hear, whatever it is you’re drinking it right up. Butterflies dance in his stomach at the sight of you. You’re enjoying the people that Eddie enjoys, and it fills him with so much pride. His favorite people are getting along, all in the same space. If his nine year old self could see this backyard right now, he’d be blown away. Everyone here cares for him, and he cares for them, something that he never thought he would have.

“It’s kind of creepy to stare ya know,” Steve’s voice cuts through Eddie’s internal monologue. The long haired man takes a swig of his beer trying to pretend like he didn’t just get caught like a child with their hand in the cookie jar.

“I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about man,” he mutters out. Avoiding any eye contact with the people in front of him, taking interest in the sight of his scuffed up reeboks.

“Oh man, Munson’s got it bad,” Robin butts in. Heat from embarrassment creeps up Eddie’s face. He hopes no one notices, ready to blame it on the warmth of the fire beside them.

“Guys stop it,” Nancy chimes in, “I think it’s sweet.” The brunette sends him a small smile. The metal head sends her one back in a small thank you.

“Never thought I’d see Eddie Munson have heart eyes over a girl,” Robin mumbles over her red solo cup. Dustin nods in agreement.

“Yeah it’s kind of gross, to be honest.”

“Shut it, Henderson,” Eddie hissed, “besides, there’s nothing wrong with having heart eyes for my girl.”

He looks over the group and he’s met with silence and wide eyed stares. Raising an eyebrow, he turns to see what’s caused everyone to suddenly shut the hell up. When he turns his body, he goes rigid with the sight of you. When did you get over here, you were just talking to the girls on the side of the fire. He wanted the earth to open up and swallow him whole. He just called you his girl and you weren’t even boyfriend/girlfriend yet, at least you never officially talked about it. He can’t read you and it’s scaring the ever living shit out of him.

After what feels like an eternity, he sees it. The way your eyes glitter, how you're biting on your lower lip fighting off the impending grin that’s due to break out on your face. Your arms wrap around his body, and you snuggle into him. His heart starts to beat again, this time it feels like it’s beating too fast.

It doesn’t take long for the group to move on to another conversation, slowly forgetting the awkward pause that just happened. Eddie’s mind races, scrambling to find the words to say. It doesn’t matter because you’re speaking before he can.

“I like that,” your voice is soft when you say it, yet he can still hear it. He glances down at you and you’re already craning your neck to meet his brown eyes.

“Yeah? And what’s that?” He’s surprised how cool he’s being for someone who just embarrassed himself in front of a whole group of people.

“Being your girl.”

After making it official, Eddie pondered the thought of you meeting Wayne. He knew it needed to happen, he just didn’t know how to go about it. This was all new to Eddie, he never had a girlfriend so he never had to worry about this kind of thing. So for the past week he practiced how to go about asking you, reassuring you it was okay to say no if you thought it was too much too soon. He had the perfect plan, he’d ask you when you were having movie night at your place, casually bring it up over dinner, and go from there. It was a good plan, but Eddie is an idiot and he can’t help but fumble when he’s around you. His palms were sweating and his knee bounced at an obnoxious rate, if you noticed you never mentioned it. He doesn’t even realize he said anything until your chewing stopped, going completely wide-eyed. The first thing he thinks of doing is running, bolting for your front door leaving you in the dust, but then you kiss him. All the anxiety leaves his body the minute it happens.

At first he thought it would be simple, invite his uncle over next weekend and order take out for the three of you. Then you scoffed, telling him you would die before you would have his uncle eating take out when you had a perfectly good stove. That whole week, you’d call him after work asking what his uncle liked and disliked, if he had any allergies or personal preferences. Out of the pair of you, you were more enthusiastic about the whole thing, and it made his worry subside. However, your enthusiasm slowly became overthinking every small detail.

Music blasted on your radio, loud enough he could hear from behind your front door. When you failed to answer the knocking after a minute or two, he let himself in. That’s when he found you standing on tiptoes, feather duster in hand, reaching for the picture frames on the mantle hanging above your tv. Your hair was pulled up into a bun, frizzy and damp from sweat. Your shirt sleeves were rolled up to your elbows and one of the legs of your sweatpants had been awkwardly pulled up higher on your calf than the other. Your usually clean apartment looked even more sterile now, walls looked brighter, and the air smelled even more clean than before. When you had called him earlier to ask if he was still staying the night, you mentioned that you had taken the day off to have a personal day. He thought maybe you’d relax or go shopping, he did not imagine you taking the day off to sit and clean every square inch of your house.

Leaning on the door frame, he took this time to quietly admire you. The way you sang the words of whatever Madonna song was playing, how your hips swing to the music, how you wipe your brow every once and a while when a sweat bead drips down. He can’t help but feel giddy when he watches you, heart growing bigger and bigger, like the grinch, with every second that passes. He wants to pinch himself sometimes because he is so lucky that he has you. You’re so fucking beautiful and you chose him, even though you could have anyone you wanted, you still chose him.

You jump almost ten feet in the air like some cartoon the minute you notice his presence. It makes him laugh and you clutch your heart trying to catch your breath.

“Babe, what the hell? You gave me a heart attack,” you walk over to your stereo, turning it down to an acceptable level. You set your duster down on your coffee table and make your way over to him. Rolling down your sleeves and trying to push down all the frizziness of your hair, he takes notice that you're shy, like he’s not supposed to see you like this.

“Sorry baby, I knocked but you had that god awful music playing,” there’s no real malice behind his statement. He makes his way over to you, making sure to take his shoes off first. He pulls you into a hug, relishing the way his face fits in your neck. “Hi baby,” his voice vibrates off of your skin. You're the first to pull away and he misses your warmth.

“As much as I want to hug you, I’m a disgusting mess,” you complain.

“Ex-cuuuse me, ma’am, but you are no such thing,” he gasps, placing a palm over his heart acting as if you wounded him. His little act pulls a snort from you and it makes him beam.

“What’s all this anyway,” he questions, “Don’t tell me you did all this work when you took the day off.”

You shrug your shoulders, trying your hardest not to look too bashful, “I wanted to clean for Sunday. Ya know, make a good first impression on your uncle.” His chest swells with pride at the thought of you doing all this just because you’re meeting his uncle.

“My sweet girl,” he coos, “You didn’t have to do all this. Your house is already spotless as it is.” Your face rests in his palms, your shoulders dropping with ease at the action.

“I just want it to be perfect,” you whisper and he melts. If he was being honest, he could cry over the whole thing. No one, especially a girl, has ever done something so thoughtful for him. The last time a girl has ever done anything relatively nice for him, was in sixth grade when Stacey Leannski gave him a pencil when he forgot his.

He grins, shaking his wild curls, “Babe, I can assure you that Wayne is going to love you, washed walls or not. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to curl up on that lovely couch of yours and watch Grease for the millionth time,” He jokes, you roll your eyes swatting at him. You agree, but only after you take a quick shower to rid yourself of the sweat and grime of the day. He accepts, telling you he’d order pizza while he waits.

Now showered and pizza devoured, the empty box sitting on your table to prove it, you two sit in the glow of the television in front of you. You’re sitting side by side, head resting on his shoulder, your attention on the movie. He feels overwhelmed by you, you're taking over all of his senses and he’s not sure how to handle it. The scent of whatever you used in the shower floods his nose, the heat of your body burning into his side, the softness of your bare legs on his, it’s all too much and he feels like he’s going to explode.

Eddie isn’t a virgin, far from it, so he knows what it’s like to burn with that desire, leaving your house after heavy makeout sessions, foot to the floorboard racing to get home to take care of the situation in his pants. Albeit not having sex yet, which he was one hundred percent fine with, he definitely felt aroused by you. Christ, you were the face of all his fantasies when he was in the comfort of his own home, hands down his pants, your name falling from his lips in quiet chants. This wasn’t that feeling at all, this was something completely different and it terrifies him.

He’s shaken from his train of thoughts when he notices the weight of your head on his shoulder is gone. He turns his attention to you, you’re all bright smiles watching Frankie Avalon serenade Frenchie. His eyes fall to your lips as you mouth the words, plump and pretty enough for him to kiss you. The illumination from the tv falls around in a halo like way, hair still damp from your shower, your shirt two sizes too big, you look ethereal like this. For a second the world goes quiet, time seems to pause, it feels like it’s just the two of you, and that’s all that matters to him at this very moment. That familiar ache returns, this time it’s stronger. The beat of his heart is erratic, the sound muffled in his ears like there's big clumps of cotton in them. His breath hitches, and his eyes bug out with realization. This isn’t an overwhelming feeling of arousal, oh no, that’s not what this is.

This feeling is you, picking and carving away at his heart, hollowing out a spot for yourself. This is you pouring yourself into his veins, circulating yourself through his bloodstream. This is you squeezing the air out of his lungs, sucking it right out of him for yourself. This feeling is you branding yourself on his soul, leaving your mark on him for the rest of his natural born life.

That night, he didn't get any sleep. He’s too busy with the feeling of your body pressed to him, the warmth of you seeping into his skin. Even with the heaviness of his eyes he can’t seem to shut off his mind, too busy thinking about how in love he is with you. He’s not sure when he’ll tell you this, but he hopes when he does, you feel the same way.

Eddie was going to jump into the nearest traffic if he had to spend one more second in the grocery store. The lights were starting to get too bright, the music a little too loud, and he swears it wasn’t as packed in the store when you got here - which was like an hour ago, but who’s counting. He wanted to say something, he really did, but when he gazes over at you he can’t bring himself to burst your bubble. Your bottom lip sits between your teeth while you hold two different cans of vegetables in your hand, eyes bouncing back and forth between the two labels. You looked so adorable standing there, it almost makes him forget about wasting his whole Sunday morning there. Almost.

“Baby,” he coos, “Just pick one, yeah? I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Ringed hands wrap around your waist, pulling you into him as he rests his head on top of your own. You sigh, pulling your body away from his, too soon for his liking.

“I know you said your uncle doesn’t like green beans but I’ve never made a stew with peas before. I mean I know you can use both, I just, I don’t know,” you ramble, pouting your bottom lip out and it takes everything in not to kiss you stupid.

“Wayne is a grown man, he can pick around them,” Eddie reassures you. He spots the look of hesitation on your face. Before you can argue your next point to him, he wraps his arms around your waist once again. “I promise you, he will love it no matter what. Now stop worrying that pretty little head of yours and let's get a show on the road, I have a hot date to get to,” He bops your nose and you blush. “There she is,” he says, “There’s my girl.”

“Okay but,” you put more emphasis on the last word, “If he hates it, I’m blaming you,” You playfully scowl at him. Placing the can into the cart, Eddie grins at you in victory, “That’s okay babe, I can handle the old man for ya.” You roll your eyes at him and he pretends like he doesn’t see the small crack of a smile growing on your face.

Eddie was right, like he knew he would be, Wayne loved your cooking and even better, he loved you. Wasn’t so shocking to be honest, you’re a wonderful person and everyone you meet instantly falls in love with you because of it.

The air of the night is a lot cooler than before, the sky much darker now that the sun had been replaced with the moon. The store bag filled with leftovers you packed for Wayne, rustled in the wind. The two men make their way to the truck, even though Wayne told his nephew multiple times he did not need to be walked out, the younger man ignored him and followed him out anyway. Not much is said between the two, Eddie overthinking what he would say to Wayne. Obviously he knew he needed to thank him, not only for coming, but for not embarrassing him.

“I just wanted to uh, thank you. Ya know, for coming over and stuff. Really ‘ppreciate it.” He fidgets with his rings. Eddie’s not sure why he’s so awkward saying a simple thank you, this was the man who raised him for heaven’s sake.

“ ‘re welcome kid,” Wayne gruffs out. Reaching for the handle on his truck, he places the bag of food on the bench inside. There’s another small pause as he reaches into the pocket of his old scuffed up carhartt jacket, pulling out his pack of reds.

“You love ‘er don’t cha?” He lights the cigarette that sits between his lips, taking a long drag and letting out a small cloud of smoke. The question makes Eddie’s eye’s bulge out of his head. He’s a blubbering mess, tripping over his own words not knowing what to say. His cheeks burn harder when his uncle chuckles.

“I taught ya well son,” Wayne slapped his hand on his shoulder, “treat her right, ya hear? She’s too good of a girl, don’t wanna see you breakin’ her heart.” Eddie nodded dumbly to Wayne's words.

While Eddie makes his way back into your home, he mulls over what the hell just happened, he just got the shovel talk from his own uncle. When he opens the door, he’s met with the sight of you. You’re standing at the sink, that adorable little dress you wear moving with you has you sway back and forth, humming a tune. His uncle's words ring out in his head. There was no way he would ever break your heart, he knows he never could.

The colder weather of winter makes its way across Hawkins, leaving trails of snow in its path. As cold seeps into your home, so does Eddie’s things. His shampoo bottles, deodorant, some of his clothes residing in the space in your drawers and closet that you’d left for him. He hadn’t officially moved in, it just seemed easier if he left some clothes over when he’d stay the night.

Your limbs tangle beneath the fortress of blankets that lay on top of you. Hushed voices and quiet laughter fill the room, like two small children sharing secrets at a sleepover. Eddie savors the feeling of your fingertips tracing lines onto his skin.

“Did I ever tell you the full story of why I moved?” You keep your attention to the tattoo that sits on his chest. He answers with a shake of his head, muttering no. Eddie knew the story you told him was a half assed attempt at pushing the subject away and he was never going to push you for the real reason, knowing one day you would do it when you were comfortable enough.

You take a deep breath, readying yourself for what is to come. “Well, as you know I have an older brother. My parents, they were really big with supporting him, ya know? Like they were always going to his baseball games, pouring all the attention on him.” You force yourself not to meet Eddie’s gaze, opting to trace random things on his exposed chest.

“He’s the golden child, the apple of their eyes, and then there’s me. I wasn’t anything special, just kinda there. Anyway, they were never really worried about me because as they said, I always had the option of marrying rich,” a dry laugh escapes your throat, “While my brother, he had something going for him. He was a star baseball player, and they knew he’d make it big. But then he got injured and couldn’t play anymore.”

“When my brother decided to work for an engineering company in Chicago, my parents felt like there was nothing left for them to do, so they retired and packed their shit. They just left me there, and it hurt for a while, I mean I was out of school by that point but still. The idea of them not wanting to stay for me, that shit fucked with me.”

Before he knows it, the light blue pillow case that sits under your head is now stained dark blue with your tears. Eddie’s seen you cry before, just last week you cried while watching The Breakfast Club, but this was not the same thing. Fat, heavy tear drops, rolling down your face, snot leaking from your nose, kind of crying. The sight itself makes his own chest constrict and all he wants to do is wrap you up in the biggest hug.

“I ended up getting a really good job at this company in the city. I was so proud of myself too, I was making a lot of money, and I had my own place. I ended up meeting Paul, my ex, at the bar one night. He was charming, handsome, and dressed well, so I thought he was safe. It was good for a while, really it was but looking back it was so bad, Eds. Like you wouldn’t believe the shit I put up with, but yeah I found out he was using some of the money I had hidden to buy his girlfriend gifts. That was only part of it but that was the straw that broke the camel's back, I guess. Anyway, I found out when I found him fucking her in his bed and the next day, I packed my shit and left. God, I guess you do end up like your parents after all, huh?”

When your eyes meet, the flood you had been holding back finally breaks. Without a second thought, he’s holding onto you as you sob into his neck. You never told him the full story on Paul, but what you did tell him, he wanted to find the guy and beat the piss out of him. The idea of someone, let alone your own parents treating you the way they did breaks his heart. He wishes he could take the pain away from you, he’d carry the weight of it on his own back if he had to.

Eddie’s not sure what to say or if you even want him to say anything, so he doesn’t. His hand pets the top of your head, soothing you, like a mother does to her baby. A flashback pops into his own head, him as a child in his bed, crying because his parents fought again. The memory of his mom coming in and rocking him, the way he’s doing now, easing his tears with a slow song. So he does the same for you.

Slowly, the vice grip you had on him eases up, and your sobs reduce to small hiccups. He doesn’t stop until he hears your breath even out. When he’s sure you're sleeping, he takes a second to appreciate you, for bearing your soul to him, removing the barriers that blocked him out. He vows to himself that night, that he will protect you from anything and everything for as long as you both live.

The glow of the Christmas tree lights reflect off of the living room window. Outside, small flurries rain down, coating the ground in layers of white. The scent of hot chocolate and cinnamon fill the small living room. It looked like an elf had thrown up everything jolly in your home, littering every square inch in something holiday themed.

Eddie wasn’t a big holiday kind of guy, never really having a reason to go all out for them when it was just him and Wayne. He thought you were going to have an aneurysm when he told you, with the way your face twisted up. You were quick to tell him that you’d be more than happy to have him over to celebrate, have his uncle join in the morning, and then meet up at Steve’s to have dinner with the group. Eddie wasn’t too thrilled on the idea, not because he didn’t want to spend it with you, but because he knew he wouldn’t be able to afford a bunch of gifts. Albeit you reassured him that you didn’t want anything, he couldn’t help but feel like you were lying to make him feel better. It wasn’t until he realized that you were not doing this just for him but you were doing it for both of the lost childhood you had, he agreed.

The two of you sit across from each other by the tree. Small boxes and bags hid underneath the fake branches, sitting pretty in the light of the colorful bulbs that hang. The uneasy feeling settles in his stomach when he looks at them. The amount of gifts that sit with your name doesn’t hold a candle to all the things that sit underneath for him. It was decided that you’d pick gifts out for each other and open them at the same time. Doubt fills his brain, but it’s quickly shut off when he sees you with the box he placed in your hands. You shake the small box back and forth, tongue poking out in concentration trying to figure out what could be underneath the paper.

Over the next few minutes boxes and bags are passed back and forth, paper ripped to shreds, and piled of gifts surround the both of you.

Beside you sit your pile of opened presents. The Cure’s ‘Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me’ album, a pack of colorful fuzzy socks, your favorite candy, a new mug with a black cat painted on it, Fannie Flags novel ‘Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe’, along with highlighters and new pens for annotating.

Eddie’s pile isn’t as neat as yours, all haphazardly thrown next to him with care. A pack of new socks because he never seems to have one's without holes, a pair of new work boots, a new Metallica band shirt, a sketchbook and pencils for his D&D doodles, a bottle of Calvin Klein’s ‘Obsession for Men’, Anthrax ‘Among the Living’ album, and a pack of guitar picks.

“These are perfect, thank you baby.” A dimpled smile appears on Eddie’s cheeks. Leaning over to reach you, placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

“You’re welcome. I love everything you got me. I promise not to finish my book too fast.” You joke. There’s a sense of pride written on your face. He’s not sure why he was so nervous for this, when he’d get to see you like this, truly like a kid on Christmas morning.

He can’t relish in the feeling too long, when he sees you grabbing a hidden present from under the tree. You hand him the small box, the red ribbon mocking him from where it sits in his hands.

“Sweetheart, you didn’t have to get me anything else, I thought we said-” before he can finish, you tut his response away, waving your hands for him to stop. “Shush, it’s nothing big I promise. Now open it.” He can’t refuse when you look at him like that, cheshire grin shining brightly at him.

He pulls the ribbon off, letting it slowly fall to the floor. Opening the box, he’s met with a golden shine. A key sitting in a bed of tissue paper, confusion is written on his face when he pulls it from its place, the box falling to the floor with a small thump. When he looks up at you, the once confident look you had is now replaced with a meek expression.

“I just thought, ya know since you’re here all the time it’d make sense for you to have your own. I just want you to have it in case I’m not here or something.” Your statement trails off. Before you know it, he’s tackling you in a hug. Wet sloppy kisses are placed on your face and you swat at him, giggling telling him to stop.

“This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever given me, you know that?” He’s hovering over you. You beam up at him, wrapping your finger around one of his curls.

“You say that, but you still haven’t gotten your last gift.” You tease and he sits up, letting you up from your position on the floor.

Standing up, you hold your hand out to him. As you pull him along to your room, his heart is in his throat. He burns with embarrassment, feeling like an asshole because you’ve gone above and beyond for him and he has nothing for you in return. When you make it to your room, you gently push him on the edge of your bed, making him sit down. You nudge your way in between his legs, craning your neck down to meet his eyes. Before he knows it, the giant sleep shirt you were wearing is now on the floor, leaving you in the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

You stand there, red lace hugging your body, every curve he’s dreamed of seeing, are now in arms reach. He’s sure he looks like an idiot, drool falling from his mouth, Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat. You were such a sight to see, standing there, shy as can be, looking like a wet dream.

“You can touch me, Eds.” It takes him a minute to realize what you just said to him. He slowly lets his hand reach out from you, tracing the intricate detailing the lingerie that sits on your body.

Standing to full height, he kisses you, so soft and slow. When you reach your hand down to brush over the front of his groin, it picks up a notch. Gnashing teeth and tongue, he feels like a feral animal and if he doesn’t do something soon, he’s going to bust in his pants like a teenager. He takes his time laying you down on the bed, too scared that you might break if he goes any faster. The clothes he wears are starting to become too suffocating, constricting his every movement. His clothes are off in a flash, sitting next to yours on the hardwood floor.

Eddie thinks he’s lost his goddamn mind, he must be having a realistic wet dream or something, because there is no way on earth this is happening. He’s waited for this moment for the past two months, imagining every single detail, but nothing would prepare him for the real thing. He’s hovering above, looking down at his perfect girl, wrapped in the prettiest dainty ribbon of sorts. Eyes going crazy trying to get every single detail memorized, scars, birthmarks, dimples - he wants to learn it by heart.

“ You‘re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” He doesn’t just say it because you’re half naked underneath him. He says it because you are the most beautiful woman he’s ever had the pleasure of meeting. No playboy model, no random hook up, no groupie could hold a candle to the beauty you have.

“You’re the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen,” You look up at him through your lashes, puffy red lips stretched into that Colgate smile he loves so much.

He wants to hold those words with him for the rest of his life, lock them away for safekeeping. You have no idea what you do to him, how much you mean to him. You’ve dug your way into his life, flipping it completely upside down, and unlocking a side to him he never knew he had.

“I’m so fucking in love with you, sweetheart.” It’s out there, piercing the air like bullets from a starting pistol. Eddie’s the most vulnerable he’s ever been, giving you his heart on a silver platter. You’ve got him in the palm of your hand, able to crush his soul at any moment.

Reaching your hand up, you cup his cheek, rubbing your thumb along his cheek. He’s bracing himself for rejection, ready to tuck tail and run, but it never comes.

“Good, because I’m so fucking in love with you, Eddie Munson.” His eyes search your face, waiting to hear you tell him it was all a joke. He doesn’t, instead he sees you, just as vulnerable as him. Just two scared people of being hurt, letting their guard down, opening up themselves in the most raw way.

“You’ll still love me in the morning?”

“Always.”

For the first time in his life, he makes love - hands cradled together, foreheads touching, sweet nothings being shared. He doesn’t even notice when he starts crying, not until you wipe away the tears staining his cheek. He would be embarrassed but this is you, the girl who’s stolen his heart and invaded his whole life. When it’s over, you hold him, whispering sweet praises to the metal head.

When the morning light peaks through your curtains, you’re still there, holding onto him like you did when you fell asleep. You didn’t leave, didn’t regret the words that were shared between the two of you. Your promise rings in his head - always.

The bitter cold of March couldn’t beat the icy atmosphere in the car. No matter how many times Eddie called your name you refused to answer, turning your body more and more towards the window. Eddie knew something happened, he just didn’t know what. The night started off fine, meeting with friends to get food and drinks, big laughs and stories passed back and forth at the table. At some point something happened and you weren’t laughing anymore. Your big smile and bright eyes are replaced with a look he’s never seen before. He tried to get you to talk, begging you to just say something, only to be met with a scoff and crossed arms.

Pulling up to your house, you didn’t even wait for him to shut off the car to exit the car, slamming the door hard enough to make Eddie flinch in his seat. He wanted to puke, he hated this, he hated that he didn’t know what was making you so angry and he hated that he didn’t know how to fix it. Releasing a big puff of air, he follows you inside where he’s met with more slamming doors.

He doesn’t want to bombard you, so he decides to wait in the kitchen, where he starts to pace back and forth. He feels like he’s eight years old again after the first time he’d ever gotten in trouble at school, sitting outside the principal’s office in one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs, watching the clock go by as he waits to be called back. Although he’d get used to the feeling over time, he would never forget that first time, the way it felt when his stomach knotted up, shaky hands and trembling legs.

He hears the familiar click of the bathroom door open and he freezes, your figure ascends down the hallway, shuffling your feet along the wooden floors. Your hair you spent hours on styling to perfection is now thrown into a bun, your mascara now leaving black streaks on your face from crying, the outfit you took forever to pick out is now replaced with a pair of sweatpants and an old shirt.

Eddie watches as you reach for a glass from your cabinet, filling it with water from your faucet. At that moment he thinks it’s better if he keeps distance by staying in his corner of the kitchen, not wanting to approach you and scare you off. Screaming and yelling, that’s what he’s used to, standing in the middle of the battle front, dodging bullets left and right. Hurtful words being spat, so sharp and full of toxins, ready to leave scars after all the dust settles.

Silence, that was the real killer. It was the calm before the storm, the thickness in the air that made it harder and harder to breathe. It’d sneak up behind you, wrapping its hands around your throat, and slowly squeezing the oxygen out of your lungs. It was the uneasy feeling you get right before you head into the woods at night. It was able to sweep the rug out from under you, pulling you further and further into the darkness to no point of return.

He wants to say the right thing to you, he wants to mend the damage that’s been done, wrap you up in bandages and make it all better. He wants to pull you into shelter from the storm going on inside your brain, to hold on to you for dear life so that you don’t get sucked up in the twister of your thoughts. It’s written all over your face, the hurt, the anger, it’s all there for him to read - like a clue being left behind for him to find. There’s a war starting up inside of you, he can see the smoke signals from here, calling out for help. He wants to break in and stop it from happening, but he can’t - the brick wall that he worked endlessly at to break, is now back up again. This time it’s harder to tear down.

Although he’s never been the first in the firing line, Eddie’s armed and ready for the first hit. It feels like one of those western movies his uncle Wayne used to watch - two cowboys, guns drawn, ready to fire any second. The biggest showdown known to man is happening right here, in the small yellow kitchen of your home. There would be no shoot out this time, no knife-like words to leave damage, no wounds to heal. This time, you’re the first to put your gun down, wave your white flag in surrender.

You don’t tell him you hate him, you don’t tell him to get out and to never come back, you simply hug him. It throws him for a loop, the ticking time bomb that stood before him, defusing itself right before his very eyes. The rain that clouded over him is now washed out by the chirps of the birds, sun pushing its way to be seen once again. There is no fight to be won anymore, there is no mass destruction left in the wake of battle, left to be cleaned for another day.

He can feel the shaking of your body, vibrating with the cries you muffle in his shirt. The situation might be over, but you are still wounded from before, begging for some kind of mercy.

“Baby, you gotta tell me what’s wrong. Tell me how to fix it.” He can smell the hair spray that sits on your hair, from where his nose rests. His big hand soothing you, rubbing over the cotton shirt that drapes your back. He means the words he says to you, he wants you to let him in again.

Your answer is hard to understand, obscured by the fabric of his shirt where you’ve shoved your face to hide.

“Sweetheart, you gotta speak up so I can hear you,” He coos at you. His sweet tone coaxes you out from your hiding spot. Pulling your face from the comfort of his chest, you peer up at him.

“Please don’t leave me.” It sounds so dejecting when it falls from your lips, like you're begging him with everything in you. It breaks his heart to see you like this.

There’s some parts of your brain that Eddie hasn’t explored yet. The darkest corners of your mind, so dark you’d need a flashlight, decorated in dust and cobwebs. All the secrets you’ve yet to reveal to him, filed away, locked behind a door - the key thrown somewhere for him to find. Eddie knows there’s parts of you that you don’t want him to see, too scared he’d criticize you the way people before him did. That was the thing though, he never would, no matter how scary or fucked up you thought you were.

“Honey, I’m not going to leave you, okay? S’just - I need you to tell me what’s going on, tell me what happened.” He’s pleading with you, trying to pull it out of you. Whether it gets him any further or not, it doesn’t matter, he just wants you to see he’s trying, trying for you.

“Will you still love me in the morning?” You’re retreating, going back behind that big brick wall. As much as Eddie wants to scream and shout for you to stop hiding, he knows that the storm within is at bay, at least for now. So he lets you retreat, lets you rest knowing he’ll be back hammering, no matter how long it takes.

“Always,” It’s hushed, quiet like the small flurries that fall outside of the window. Plump lips meeting the top of your head. Eddie knows he’s not getting any more out of you, both too winded and tired from the events tonight.

Cracks and fractures left behind from the people before him, it’s going to take time, he reminds himself. So many times you had told him it was best if he runs away, there’s too much damage and he deserves someone better. He thinks you’re wrong, you are someone better, you just can’t see it. You don’t see what he sees, the girl he fell in love with, he wishes you could because you’re the best thing that’s ever graced this fucked up planet. He’d plant you in front of the world’s biggest mirror if he had to, but he knows that you’d still only see half of what he does. So for now, he’ll keep reminding you until he’s blue in the face. Always.

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