#bc a coming out story is great but it’s just one small part of a happy queer existence and not to be dean in the confessional booth

[whencartoonsruletheworld]

never have I played any nights at Freddy fazbears

pls explain the whole plot and all lore to me as if I were small and slightly stupid

oh great timing i literally JUST explained this to my asoue discord

this is a VERY simple summary, but things to keep in mind while reading:

very very VERY little of this is directly spelled out for us. the creator, scott cawthon, LOVES to confuse people on purpose and the vast majority of the lore is gleaned from hidden minigames, secret cutscenes, and easter eggs. this makes things very confusing and controversial within the fanbase, so im gonna try to explain where there are differing opinions

really, there's two main stories: the first main story was completed with FNAF6 and Ultimate Custom Night, the story going on rn is the second and it is still ongoing. as such, a lot of the lore is still a mystery to all of us.

For clarity's sake, I will divide this between: THE AFTON STORY, the one the movie's gonna tell a part of, and THE GLITCH STORY, which the games are going through

dont worry i will make it fun to go through so it doesnt feel like school

ok lets go

THE AFTON STORY

First, let's get a visual chart in here. don't worry it's just for show

These are the important families we will be talking about; the Emily family, with father Henry and daughter Charlie, and the Afton Family, with father William, two sons (Michael and a boy who is still unnamed, he might get named on friday? We call him Crying Child "CC") and a daughter, Elizabeth. Don't worry about the mothers they're not important

Okay so here's the thing: of these four children, all but Michael die VERY early on in the timeline

The problem is we do NOT know THE ORDER each of them died. There's a lot of arguments on all sides but I personally think the order is sad boi->charlie->baby so imma present it in that order. But keep in mind that we don't actually know because of the confusing way the lore is dropped.

okay so for starters.

Backstory/FNAF4

purple guy is william afton and he and this guy vcalled henry start opening a restaurant chain starring freddy fazbear

in the original location they've got two animatronic suits, fredbear and spring bonnie. the other location has freddy, bonnie, foxy, chica

the og location suits are ~special~ tho, bc henry and william are crazy inventor dudes. these suits are called "springlock suits". they function as full animatronics but you can wind all the wires and gears and endoskeleton and shit back and step into the costume yourself. only problem is the safety is jackshit and if you like. cry or sweat or breathe wrong the springlocks will fail and the metal will come crashing back and crush u to death. u should have enough time to get to the back room so u dont bleed out in front of the customers tho. springlock suits are important remember those

michael is in his early teens and has just learned how to be a shit to his siblings and is trying out this hot new bullying thing. he's picking a lot on CC because CC is terrified of the freddy animatronics. it is said that he "saw something" that scared him, it could be anything as benign as "saw someone go into the suit and got freaked out" to something as serious as "saw one of those aforementioned springlock failures and person bleeding out." could also be charlie or elizabeth's death if those happen earlier in the timeline. again we dont know bc cawthon likes to confuse us

CC is not scared of the freddy characters tho, he has all the plushies and calls them his friends. he's just scared of the animtronics. unfortunately his dad works there so he has to be there like 90% of the time so he's having a wonderful time. hence the moniker "crying child". bc he cries all the time

anyway at his birthday party, michael decides it would be really funny to shove CC up into the animatronic's mouth for kicks. this goes about as well as you'd expect cause the mouth closes and fuckin. crushes his head

kid goes into a coma for a while but eventually flatlines. while he's in the coma we hear michael tearfully apologizing, and his fredbear plush talks to him (presumed to be william) saying he will "put him back together"

anyway that was fun. so next up charlie emily gets FUCKING MURDERED

Backstory/FNAF1-2

for some reason charlie gets locked outside the pizzeria. william's driving by and decides to stab her bc why not

honestly most of us believe that this occured after CC just bc it gives william motivation to be pissy at his business partner and kill his kid abt it, but also a book that released a month ago implies that william might have been nightmare gassing his kids for shits and giggles so. who knows. dont worry about that btw its not relevant rn

anyway the thing is willie and henry had an animatronic designed to protect the children called the puppet. the puppet sees charlie outside and goes out to help her but it's raining so it fries up the puppet's circuits and it crashes on top of her dead body. cheery!

except this is where it gets wild bc charlie proceeds to like. possess the puppet

possession is really complicated in this universe but basically there's no real way to communicate openly with people and the possesser might not even be aware of who or where they are or anything really but. yeah the lil girl def possesses the puppet

its after this that william starts killing kids for funsies. a lot of us presume that he saw the puppet getting possessed and was like "holy shit a way to bring crying kid back" but again he might've just decided this was fun

anyway he lures five kids into the Secret Freddy's Backroom That Is Not On The Maps by wearing the spring bonnie costume. after killing them he shoves them into the other animatronic suits (freddy, bonnie, chica, foxy, fredbear "golden freddy") and yeah they start gettin possessed

the fifth missing kid was stuffed in fredbear and here's where it gets veeery theoretical cause we dont have straight confirmation of this but just some theories. it's VERY likely that crying child was also haunting fredbear at this point, and shoving another kid in there got two kids haunting the same bitch and it causes fredbear (golden freddy) to be really fucking weird and glitchy and eldritch or w/e. anyway you dont have to worry about that rn cause golden freddy doesnt show up much they're too busy ascending or smth

now this is where the lore gets confusing-- the first game claims that after the last two were lured, someone was caught on camera, arrested and charged. however we know for a fact willie-boi wasnt caught so either 1) this got retconned when cawthon decided to actually make lore, 2) he wasnt convicted and somehow still kept a hold on the fazbear empire during this, or 3) a lot of us theorize that henry was framed for the crimes and thats why he disappears from the timeline until the sixth game. cause yeah he disappears from the timeline until the sixth game. personally i believe the third it makes a lot of sense but yeah willie-boi stops killing at about five kids

anyway will is going full scientist with all these animatronics and he's like. ripping parts off them and putting them on other animatronics to see what happens. we THINK. again this is really vague but this is just kinda the most logical explanation here.

anyway this is what happens in fnaf2 and what it does is like. split the souls and shit. and he's like "oh this is sick" except this makes all the suits act erratic as hell and very angry towards adults (theyre cool with kids tho) and eventually one of them causes the infamous Bite of 87. we're not entirely sure what it was but one of the animatronics bit off the frontal lobe of someone in 1987. this caused this location to get shut down and willie boi just puts the pieces back on the og animatronics and is like "well shit what do we do now boys"

FNAF5: Sister Location

anyway so this is where we think elizabeth dies in the timeline. william makes these things called the "funtime animatronics"-- we know they are made after a fnaf location shuts down, though it's not specified which. these animatronics are built SPECIFICALLY to kidnap children. ballora is built as a distraction for parents, the other two are built to only move when not seen, and then Circus Baby™ has an arm that can grab kids and drag thtem into her until willie lets em out. she is programmed to only do this when a child is alone in the room so william tells elizabeth "do not go see baby when you are alone in the room"

so elizabeth is like 6 and she goes to see baby when she is alone in the room and baby grabs her but the arm is fucked up and the kid dies p badly

funtime's location is then immediately closed due to "gas leaks" and william rents out the funtimes for parties. at the same time he starts shoving some haunted parts into the funtime animatronics to see what happens. we THINK.

important location here btw is the "scooping room." it's actually very good horror but basically it's a bitch that is supposed to rip the endoskeletons out of the suit whenever theyre malfunctioning. super smart idea that will cause no nightmares going forwards.

anyway the animatronics all kinda know that william killed them so after a while (a few years??? who knows) they start trying to kill him and he's like "hmm. i cannot go into this bunker anymore. let me send michael, my last surviving kid who i hate." this is where michael, now an adult, re-enters the timeline.

mikey boy is told by his dad that he can bring his baby sis back to life if he goes down into this bunker and does some shit. michael is like "oh sweet" bc honestly he probably still feels guilty about literally killing his bro and so he goes down to the bunker.

the animatronics eventually tell him "go into the scooping room it'll be totes mcgotes" and when he gets there he finds out that the animatronics have killed all the other employees, scooped themselves, and fused their endoskeletons into one conglomerate called ennard

ennard is like "yeah we cant escape here cause they just bring us back so we're gonna use you as a skinsuit k thnx" and they scoop him and use him as a skinsuit

it's really good horror i promise

BUT this turned out to be a bad plan because Humans Decay so after like a week ennard gets puked up by the MikeSuit and escapes into the sewers.

here, meanwhile, is where mike pulls a reverse uno card and possesses his own decaying corpse

LIKE A FUCKING BADASS

he then calls up his dad and is like "hey dad :) elizabeth's fine now :) BUT :) they fucking killed me :) because they thought i was you :) you sure sent me down here to die huh :) anyway :) im gonna come find you :) you have a ten minute head start start running :)"

actor really fucking sold that monologue too ngl

so he's like. PISSSSSSED and rightfully so he is walking around in his own corpse. so he goes to find his dad

Backstory/FNAF3

this is about when peepaw willie goes back to the original fnaf location (we THINK) and is like "ok im just gonna take apart all the animatronics and do something with these"

only when he destroys the suits the missing kids' ghosts show up and spook him. so this guy who's been studying ghosts is like "oh fuckshit there's ghosts here" and tries to hide in the spring bonnie suit. only he laughs and this causes the springlocks to malfunction and FUCKING VIOLENTLY KILL HIM. get springlocked idiot

except then HE possesses the spring bonnie suit and this is springtrap. but also he's in a super secret back room while this happens so he is trapped there for a while

FNAF6

so ennard, michael and william are fuckin around for a couple years. at some point ennard decides that elizabeth is kinda a freak actually and kicks her out of the hivemind so she just rebuilds herself a circus baby suit and keeps wanderin around so now we got four bitches doing who knows what

eventually it's been 30 years since the last freddy's closed and someone opens up a haunted house parody of it. mike goes to work there as a security guard* and guess what they found springtrap and bring him to the attraction thinking he's just an animatronic. after five nights of fucking with him mike sets the place on fire to try and finally kill his dad fr. it does not work

*note that this isnt confirmed to be michael but we kinda. all know it's probably him. it really seems to be him

anyway then michael finds out that an actual fazbear's is opening and needs an owner so he goes and becomes owner of the restaraunt. while some guy on a cassette tape is giving him tutorial instructions he sets up the place and also collects several animatronics. these are:

scraptrap (peepaw post-fire and really pissed)

scrapbaby (elizabeth now thinking that maybe if she kills things her dad will pay attention to her)

molten freddy (remains of ennard still not entirely sure what's going on)

lefty (a bear solely built to capture the puppet, who was still fuckin around the fnaf2 location i guess. anyway now the puppet is here thats important)

so after our five nights scrapbaby comes on the speaker system and is like "omg dad if we kill people will you love me. we're gonna kill soooo many people it's my passion actually" and that's when the cassette tutorial guy interrupts her

and he just goes "yeah. you're not doing that"

anyway he's like "hi guys. you remember me??? henry??? from 30 years ago?? i owned half this business? you killed my daughter and stuffed her soul in a puppet? lmao yeah i literally lured you all here and you came like the fucking idiots you are. im setting the place on fire, we're all gonna die and go to heaven. except for YOU, WILL. you are not going there. lmao bye" and he sets the place on fire and they all burn. it's more epic when he says it tbh

now henry mentions that he had an escape route ready for the building owner but he figured out the owner was michael and was like "i feel like you wanna stay and burn with us" and michael's like "fuck yeah"

you might think that wraps up the story nicely but OH NO THERE'S MORE

Ultimate Custom Night

see, the next game is ultimate custom night where you can choose which animatronics hunt you and their level of difficulty. it is through hidden messages and shit that we find out that ucn is, canonically, william being tortured in hell. which is sick af

anyway the tormentor is a spirit labelled "the vengeful spirit" in the files, and "the one you should not have killed" by the animatronics. we sometimes hear either a light voice behind the other animatronic lines (could be either a woman with a light voice, a little girl, or a little boy), and the pic that sometimes shows up as a hallucination is a distorted photo of scott cawthon's son. we know for a FACT this spirit is someone from the fnaf6 fire cause they reference the fire more than once while poking willie with a stick. it's probably not elizabeth cause she was just tryin to get her dad's attention. it's not charlie/puppet bc one of her lines is like "ffs just stay out of my way for ONCE." we also know for a fact it's not henry cause they were like "henry sure tried to release us huh. not happening im not letting you go that easily bitch haha" so that narrows it down to michael and the missing kids

now here's the thing.

the vaaaaast majority of the fandom is convinced that the vengeful spirit is cassidy, the missing child that was stuffed inside golden freddy with cc. this is because golden freddy is in a looot of ultimate custom night and if you beat the hardest mode you just get a quick cutscene of him glitching and then everything fades to black

however. i have seen legiterally no convincing evidence that this is the case. all we know about cassidy is she is the golden freddy missing kid and was talking to cc through the logbook. and we BARELY know this. in the alternate universe book she first showed up in (the silver eyes) she wasn't even the golden freddy kid. people point out a similar situation to her and cc in fazbear frights where one of the kids was tormenting william (stitchwraith) but that's literally a whole separate universe and completely separate characters with separate backstories and personalities

there's a sprite in security breach who fights glitchtrap (explained below) who was named in the files as "cassidy" so ppl point to that but 1) they changed that name after people made a deal out of it, 2) that could mean literally anything, 3) the protag of the next game was named "cassie" and her story kinda paralleled the sprite's first game so uuhhhh anyway

honestly i think it's WAY more likely the vengeful spirit is mr michael "i'm going to come find you and set you on fire twice" afton, using his childhood likeness to fuck with his dad. this is strengthened by one of the easter egg cutscenes in ucn, where the vengeful spirit talks to a benevolent spirit who tells them to "leave the demon to his demons. there is nothing for you here." the audio in the background is someone distortedly screaming "HENRY" and "MICHAEL"

one of the animatronic lines also says "is this a prison for you or for me? perhaps both" implying that the vengeful spirit feels like they belong in hell, which would fit with mike's "i killed my brother" self-loathing. the golden freddy glitch could very easily be his mental anguish as well as william's, with the optional cutscene telling us that while michael is self-harming by torturing his dad in hell, he has the ability to move on and find peace if he can forgive himself. honestly i really like that open ending there

another point towards "vengeful mike" theory is that we play as him for most of the games (definitely 5 and 6, most likely 1 and 3, some theorize 4) and so him being the vengeful spirit is way more emotionally impactful than "random kid #5"

however every time i bring this up to the fnaf fandom they get really really pissy at me because y'all love ur angry lil girl cassidy headcanons and honestly that is completely fair i also love angry lil girls. im just saying this bc we're going over whats canon rn and i firmly believe in vengeful mike (thank @birdsareblooming for that) but yknow. cassidy is also fun as hell

i wrote a whole essay on this btw these are just the cliffnotes. do you guys wanna see the essay

anyway that's where the afton story ends but OHHH NO MR CAWTHON CANNOT STOP

if you just want a quick catchup before the movie you can stop here but anyway. let's talk mimicry

THE GLITCH STORY

the games coming out recently are kinda a sequel-story and bc theyre still coming out we are still very confused about what the fuck is canon and what is not so this one will be a lot more guessing. i digress let's talk about

Help Wanted

so back on earth, it's the 2020s-2030s. turns out the fazbear company is still functional and they're like "well shit guys what the FUCK do we do about all of That"

so they decide they need a brand cleansing and what they do is they secretly hire an "indie game developer" to make the fnaf games in-universe, to make light of the tragedies and make people take them less seriously. they pretend to have beef with this indie dev but eventually put all of his games into a VR game as a show of "good faith." somehow this actually does work in revitalizing the brand image

also sidenote but the books imply that the indie dev was kidnapped and gaslit into making the games but thats not important

now see there's a glitch in the game and the beta-tester jeremy mentions it and then gets increasingly withdrawn and obsessive. because it turns out there is a Bitch in here

now. the identity of the Bitch is uh. controversial in the fandom rn. i will say for clarity that i am in Party Two and will probably be biased towards that but here's the thing. the Bitch is either:

a digital upload of william afton's soul (somehow escaping hell)

THE MIMIC

Help Wanted Interlude: The Mimic

see, the other books (silver eyes, fazbear frights) are set in a parallel universe-ish to the books, similar rules and worldbuilding but cawthon can fuck around all he wants with no consequences. there were charliebots and springtrap mpreg at one point it was nuts. but the thing is right now they're kinda trying to tell us that the current series, tales from the pizzaplex, is game-canon. god only knows if they'll stick to that so some people think the books are in the game's universe, others think they're parallels to the games and not 1-1 exact much like the others

but anyway they give us crucial lore on The Mimic so here we go

some guy named edwin (some think he's a parallel to henry or william, but rn we're just gonna assume he's canon) is a single dad to a toddler. however he's working for fazbear making all these animatronics and he's sooo busy and needs something to distract the toddler so he creates a fucked up nightmare animatronic called The Mimic, whose programming is extremely basic: "copy whatever you see being done"

the toddler actually loves the fucked up nightmare animatronic and teaches him to play patty-cake and carry around stuffed animals or w/e. anyway then the toddler runs out into the street and gets hit by a car

edwin is still grieving and the mimic comes up carrying the toddler's stuffed animal and still copying him and when the mimic that edwin programmed to copy things is still copying things edwin snaps and just beats the fuck out of it bc he needs a grief outlet. he then abandons the thing but however the mimic has just learned Violence

some employees come by to see where edwin's animatronics are and the mimic just starts killing all of them bc. well. it's supposed to copy things. it will copy things

there's a BIG GAP here in what happens to it next but it disappears for the next 30 years. however it is heavily, HEAVILY implied that it witnessed at least one of the missing children incidents

fazbear actually has a Lot of mimic endoskeletons but bc they start copying violent shit they shut them all down. however they all run on the same program, "mimic1" and fazbear keeps that tech around cause you know it could be helpful

Back to Help Wanted

now here is where the "we only THINK this is canon we dont knkow yet" comes in

back to the vr game, they are just shoving random old pieces of code in there to speefd up the process of making the game cause capitalism doesnt like long development times. this puts the mimic1 program into the program and it immediately sees All Of Afton's Crimes In 4K. it decides "oh yeah i can mimic this but i should probably get a physical body in order to do that"

so beta tester jeremy sees the mimic program, which takes the form of Spring Bonnie Suit. this is Glitchtrap

now keep in mind that some people do still believe that all this aint happenin and the spring bonnie glitch is just william. again i personally believe the mimic cause it makes more sense than "william escaped hell somehow" but w/e

anyway, glitchtrap is fuckin around. it tries to possess beta tester jeremy and in order to stop it, jeremy does the sensible thing and cuts his own face off

so glitchtrap is like "hmm. that didn't work out" and decides to go for the more subtle approach. the next beta tester, currently unnamed, starts recording tapes inside the game to send to the next beta tester so they dont fuck with glitchtrap. glitchtrap however seals itself inside the tapes so that when the beta testers try to delete it, it'll instead be inside the tapes and cant be removed lmao. it then "mimics" tape girl's voice and adds a last tape saying "let him possess you its ok i promise"

it also mimics her intro of "hello can you hear me" in the one time it speaks so. mimic

anyway the next beta tester is this gal named vanessa and she gets possessed like suuuper quickly and glitchtrap is like "oh fucking FINALLY"

Security Breach Therapy Tapes

vanessa's acting weird at work so company requires her to go to therapy, however she has the same therapist as Another Patient. this patient will be named later however right now we're calling them Patient 46. they do not talk but have the same therapist as Vanessa and is creepy about it. anyway whenever a therapist prods too much into either Vanessa or P46's life, or discovers them fucking with fazbear tech, the therapist mysteriously goes missing and shows up later dead and mangled by machinery

they go through like five of these bitches at least, but it's clear P46 is another bitch possessed by glitchtrap but they're like more possessed than vanessa is so glitchtrap likes them better

BUT THAT'S ALL BORING, WE'VE GOT A PIZZAPLEX NOW!!!

Security Breach

fazbear opens a giant 80s-style mall with a ton of attractions like disneyland or w/e and call it the Mega Pizzaplex. There's state-of-the-art animatronics in here that are basically sentient ai. they might be possessed but we're not actually sure rn they might just be advanced robots

they start with "glamrock" freddy, bonnie and chica, along with roxy wolf instead of foxy. we're not sure why rn. anyway at some point something suspicious happens and bonnie is found mangled and he's replaced with montgomery gator, a c-list animatronic they had to run the golf course. he doesnt seem to take the spotlight well and has started breaking things but its probably fine

anyway they eventually realize they can automate the staff and stop paying human beings and they jump on that cause they love cutting costs. they've got staffbots everywhere except for ONE person- vanessa, who is hired as the security guard. we find a note saying that her interviewer found her too inexperienced for the position, but someone "very" high up in the company pushed her into the role. this is implied to be glitchtrap taking over the systems

so vanessa and P46 are shoving glitchtrap into the systems because, well, guess what? the pizzaplex is built on top of the fnaf6 location. the one where henry set them all on fire, and they're trying to do some sort of shit with the burnt remains of springtrap. if you believe in william!glitchtrap he's trying to get his body back; if you believe in mimic!glitchtrap he's trying to fuse himself to afton's corpse in order to gain a corporeal form. it also helps that there is The OG Mimic Endoskeleton in this area (its explained in the books im not going into it) but it's pretty fuckin damaged so they gotta spend some time fixing it before fusing it with peepaw's corpse

but the night they're supposed to do that, something goes wrong: a child is loose in the pizzaplex

glamrock freddy had a malfunction onstage, and when he wakes up in his room, there is a child hiding in his stomach compartment (used for oversized piñatas and cakes). this child is named gregory and he looks suspiciously like the crying child and we dont have an explanation for that but no, matpat, he's not a robot, it's probably just symbolism

anyway gregory actually has like very little memory of what's going on and barely remembers his own name but he says that vanessa the security guard is trying to fuckin kill him so he needs to get tf out of the pizzaplex. freddy's like "well you're shit out of luck cause the doors close and seal until 6am but that's fine we can make it til then" and gregory's like "fucking JOY"

long story short gregory has to run around the pizzaplex while every animatronic but freddy is trying to kill him. freddy is not trying to kill him bc his malfunction caused him to enter Safe Mode and it turns out that Safe Mode is safe from the glitchtrap virus. everyone else, however, gets glitchtrapped and is trying to kill this kid

you dont find out why until like laaaate in the game and even THEN you're confused until one of the goosebumps-knockoff short stories confirms a thing, and that thing is:

gregory is patient 46

oh shit

turns out gregory was possessed by glitchtrap for FUCK knows how long and was used as its body for like the entire time. and when he eventually wakes up un-possessed (no idea how that happened) he has no memory of whats going on at ALL and is understandably fucking terrified. doesnt remember being possessed or killing ppl or anything he just wakes up and runs. glam freddy likely malfunctioned cause glitchtrap was like "oh my god go GET that stupid kid" and glam freddy was like "but???? protecc????" and entered safe mode

so gregory eventually fuckin DEMOLISHES all the other animatronics and uses their parts to upgrade freddy. freddy is like "hey where'd you get these parts" and gregory's like "uhhhhhhhhh dont worry about it" "hey where are my friends" "DONT WORRY ABOUT IT"

while this is happening, a possessed vanessa is in a bunny suit calling herself vanny and also trying to kill him. this is just as confusing to us as it is to you

anyway there are six endings to security breach. according to the most recent game, there is a chance that two of them are canon. WE DO NOT KNOW which of the two is canon. these are the endings:

Princess Quest Ending: greg and freddy try to confront vanny and she gets freddy ripped apart by staffbots. gregory then finds an arcade game in her room and plays and beats it which sets her soul free (presumably he knew how to do this cause he's remembering bits and pieces of being possessed??? idk). anyway once the game is beat she is unpossessed and takes gregory and freddy's decapitated head out of the pizzaplex

Burntrap Ending: gregory and freddy avoid vanny and go to the fnaf6 basement where freddy starts acting all fucked up and then thtey find the Springtrap corpse, now Burntrap (fused with the mimic? glitchtrap? yknow). it tries to kill them so you have to Boss Fight everything and then set him on fire again. THEN a tangled mess of animatronic wires with a funtime freddy head (remains of ennard???) shows up and drags him off. again, just as confusing for us as it is for you. freddy and gregory escape. no idea where vanessa is

ONE of these is canon. we do not know which. this is making the fanbase super chill and normal /lying

Evidence for Princess Quest: in ruin, we see a headless glamrock freddy in the exact same area he is in pq. we also have no sign of vanny trying to help glitchtrap. you can collect gregory's fanart of his own game and pq is the only one he didn't draw. princess quest arcade game has sword sticking out of it

Evidence against Princess Quest: aforementioned headless freddy is labelled a prototype on his foot and we know for a fact that our freddy does not have that stamp. he also has a gift inside his stomach when freddy gave his stomach gift to gregory already (and it was a diff color). the pq arcade game has sword sticking out of it BUT that could symbolize the princess being skewered, and surrounding the game is art of the escaped glitchbunny

Evidence for Burntrap: labelled as "true ending" in the files, only ending to be FULLY animated instead of switching to comic form and also only one with boss fight, the tangled animatronic mess is definitely canon (we see it, gregory draws it so he saw it too which means he went in the basement where it was), while vanny isn't seen her grafitti is everywhere and appears to be recent

Evidence against Burntrap: the "true ending" label, like cassidy, could mean literally fucking anything. also if vanessa is still under his control why the fuck doesnt she help him where is she

so yeah we're having fun figuring THAT out

Ruin (the end so far thank god)

the most recent game we got, then, was the dlc for the above game, this dlc is called ruin. a few months after this, a lil girl named cassie wanders into the ruins of the pizzaplex cause her best friend gregory told her to meet him there. when she gets there she finds a walkie-talkie and he's like "girl im trapped under the pizzaplex you need to shut down the security and come get me" and she's like "sounds great"

she finds vanny's mask and puts it on and enters an AR world where a glitched bunny is trying to kill her (this one isnt glitchtrap actually) and a friendly little AR bear is telling her to keep going she's doing a great job (this one IS glitchtrap probably)

anyway it turns out her backstory is her dad worked for the pizzaplex and she had a birthday party there with her Favorite Character Roxy and literally none of her friends showed up. she was sad about it until gregory showed up and became her friend. then gregory went missing and she was sad

anyway the last security node is favorite character Roxy and roxy recognizes her and is nice to her and its very sad

cassie eventually goes down to the fnaf6 basement and is like "ok gregory i opened the door are you okay" and PSYCH, IT'S NOT GREGORY

IT'S

THE

MIMIC

the mimic immediately tries to kill her bc it likes violence but roxy shows up to save her. the real gregory calls her on the walkie-talkie and is like "bITCH GET OUT OF THERE" and she's like "IM TRYING" and gregory's "friend" (whose pronouns are very specifically blurred out, so it could be either freddy or vanessa) uses the building maps to help her to an elevator. however when she gets in the elevator gregory's like "yeahhhhh sorry we cant let you be followed :(" and drops the elevator, trapping her there

it's like a 99% chance this last bit was not gregory but it was the mimic, seeing as gregory is not even in the pizzaplex and the mimic lost cassie right next to the elevator fuse box that it could easily rip out. so you know

anyway we end with either roxy finding cassie or the mimic using roxy's voice finding her so this kid's fucked lmao

also other questions about if mimic is burntrap is that we see the mimic p naked in this game and not in a fun corpse skinsuit so where did bunny go??? however i will also mention that there is a secret ending that shows us that the FUCKING SCOOPER is here so. personally i think that answers that question. get scooped idiot

oh also if you noticed "hey 'cassie' sounds a lot like 'cassidy,' the golden freddy kid who was sharing a body with the crying child, who has a similar design to gregory," congrats! we've noticed that too! we have no fucking idea what it means! :D

and thaaaaat's five nights at freddy's

that didnt take too long did it

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf movie #mine

[comfortless]

syl. *grabs you and shakes you* syl. i woke up in a cold sweat thinking of like… könig. already off to a great start ik. but space opera könig. (not like star wars or anything) but think like 70s aesthetics all bright and colorful. he’s a bandit in a stolen ship, formerly part of a military group making peace with other planets but something went awry and he’s just having fun now!

reader is part of a small research group that has landed on a planet he’s camped out on and he’s just like “ok” followed by “i want that”. steals all of her supplies and then her. doesn’t care how much she protests when he just hauls her over his shoulder, pats her butt bc he thinks THATS going to calm her down and throws her into his ship.

she’s happy he’s not some creepy alien but at the same time who really knows what’s under that hood anyway hmmmm and she wants to hate him but also all that’s playing in her head is that one rah band song. messages from the stars lmao please. there is something in the way you write that is so special to me and if you were to come up with a full blown story for my dumb idea i think i would scream for 20 hours straight.

lil wisp….. you have no idea what this has done to me. i am going to be thinking about this for an eternity. let’s cook.. i see your vision and i would love nothing more than this too!!

content/warnings: implied violence, abduction, dubcon groping?

König’s been on his own, drifting through the stars for so long. Only raiding the ships he comes across for food, supplies, and when he stumbles across a mechanic he puts them to work with a silly laser rifle pointed right at their head (because let’s face it— when you’re a wanted space pirate who in the universe is going to fix your ship for you??). He’s put all of human etiquette far behind him, and now his life is quite literally just one relentless adventure. He wouldn’t have it any other way!

That is, until his ship is fucked up again, displaying about thirty bright red warnings on its silly hologram screens that he just can not make sense of. The thing is old, has been shot at more times than even he can count, and it’s finally failing him if the loud sputtering and incessant orbital beeps are anything to go by. He considers his luck has run out when he lands the damned thing on some hunk of rock out on the outskirts of a galaxy most don’t even bother with, because there’s nothing out here.

Thankfully, his frustration is short-lived because a smaller ship lands only a few days later; painted in the bright, pearlescent blues and pinks of your standard peace-keeping, research vessel. It’s the perfect craft to steal and it wouldn’t even be difficult… the three humans that exit are so much smaller than him and entirely unguarded. They’re just here to study a few minerals, maybe haul some back to their little camp a few worlds over for fuel and research. He won’t even get into too much trouble for it, he thinks, because even his trashed ship could take them back home. See!! He isn’t all that bad…

At least, until he notices her, bent over admiring some silly, little cluster of crystals in her skin-tight jumpsuit that makes him see stars. The heavy boots that rise up to her knees making her look like little more than a fauness, and she’s so pretty he just can’t help but get a closer look while her teammates are off chittering away and exploring the nothing planet.

She isn’t even afraid of him when he approaches. Just straightens up with her hands clasped in front of her and a smile on her face. She hasn’t seen the holograms of him, displaying a sizable bounty for his veiled head, doesn’t take a wary note of the massive rifle he has slung over his shoulder; she just sees another person. He hasn’t been looked at like that since long before he left home!!

This sweet woman has no sense of self-preservation either, because she immediately asks him if he needs food or water; gestures over to her brightly colored ship with that pretty smile ever-present on her face, and that’s all it takes for him to decide that not only is he taking the craft, he’s taking her too.

He doesn’t say a word when he lifts her up over his shoulder, and the poor thing must be shocked because it takes her a moment before she starts squirming in his grip. König does well to remove the little radio strapped to her hip, giving her ass a firm squeeze in the process before tossing it in the dust behind him. That’s all it takes to shut his little prinzessin up before he hauls her back into her ship and demands she turn off any tracking systems. Her knees are a bit weak when she fumbles with the control panels, and he’s unashamed of his own erection when he slides in behind her to lean over the console as the ship starts up.

She whines about leaving her friends stranded, of course, but he’s in a world of his own when he grabs her by the hips and seats her in his lap while she pilots. Never mind the others, he’ll take good care of her, honest!!

#könig x you #könig x reader #konig #könig #messages from the stars… LOL… anon if i had the time to write a full blown fic of this rn i would but my god #i need to propose actually this is such a good concept…

[lewmagoo]

i smile at the moon | rhett abbott

description: in which two wild souls become knit together as one

warnings: 18+ only, werewolves, violence, animals fighting, perry abbott slander, mentions of death, family drama, mentions of blood, smut, breeding kink, unprotected sex (basically a mating ritual lol), possessiveness, creampie, biting, scratching, all around animalistic themes

pairing: werewolf!rhett abott x f!werewolf!reader

notes: yeah so this started out as me wanting to write naughty werewolf smut and then it turned into a 10k+ word story complete with my own werewolf lore. thanks to @lovinglyeternal bc they basically created this monster by sending me a werewolf rhett concept. you are responsible for my insanity ;-)

He could smell you. 

Each inhale of your scent was intoxicating. Stronger and sweeter than anything he’d ever smelled before. Citrusy, in a way. Warm and spicy like a hot cider. 

All his life he’d been told that the scent of one’s mate was unique and indescribable. The most wonderful, appealing, all-consuming scent. Before he found you, he’d tried to imagine what it would smell like. His mama’s brown butter chocolate cookies, fresh out of the oven? Cotton candy, from the county fair? The comforting sweetness that hung in the air of his favorite childhood ice cream shop?

However, all of those scents paled in comparison to you. It hit him like a freight train the first time he met you. His knees went weak, his spine tingled as if he’d been struck by a bolt of white-hot lightning. It hit you just as hard, overwhelming your every sense. At that very moment, both of you knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you were made for each other. The Fates had brought you together and your bond would never be severed. 

You would never forget that first meeting in the woods. You were part of a neighboring pack. New to the region, having recently migrated from your old home because tensions between your pack and a rival one had grown to concerning levels. 

To avoid a full-blown war, your pack had moved out west, hoping to start fresh. And a fresh start was exactly what you found. But little did you know that it would also lead you to find the one you were destined for. 

You met him the day his pack came to make a formal introduction and welcome you to the region. The Northeast Wyoming pack was comprised of the Abbott family descendants. 

However, the pack was not as great as it had once been. What used to dominate the entire northeastern region of Wyoming had been reduced to a very small family of wolves. Royal, the alpha. His wife Cecelia. Their son, Perry; the eldest and next in line for alpha status, and their younger son, Rhett. Finally, there was Amy, Perry’s young daughter. 

Rumor had it Perry once had a wife, but she’d ultimately left the pack and chosen to become an omega. Or, so you’d heard. 

When you heard the pack was coming to welcome you to the area, you had no idea what to expect. These were potential allies, but if something went wrong, they could very quickly become your enemy. You hoped it wouldn’t come to that. You were tired of fighting and wanted nothing more than to finally enjoy a season of peace. 

Little did you know that you were about to meet the one you would mate with for life. 

They came at sunset, bearing gifts. Food for your table. Good bottles of wine. They even brought a few toys for some of the small children in your pack.

Cecelia did most of the talking. She was warm and friendly and gave you a hearty welcome, informing you that she was so happy to have new neighbors in the region, and was looking forward to rebuilding the community they’d lost over the years. 

Silently, you wondered why their pack was so small. Yours had nearly twenty members. Theirs had five. Perry had a child, an heir, already. Which left Rhett, the only one who hadn’t furthered the bloodline yet.

Of the whole family, he was the last one to arrive that night. Royal made an offhanded comment about him always being late, and how he was just being lazy. The comment rubbed you the wrong way. Especially since Rhett wasn’t even there to defend himself. You didn’t even know the man, but you already felt a strange sense of protectiveness toward him. 

Odd, you thought. But instead of dwelling on it, you simply turned and joined the rest of your pack, ready for the evening’s festivities to begin. 

Rhett arrived a little while later. A rickety old GMC Sierra pulled into the gravel driveway, and it caught your attention. You glanced over to see a young man climbing out of the driver’s side. You couldn’t quite see his face yet, but you could tell he was handsome. 

That’s when you caught it. The breeze blew in your direction, and a scent unlike anything you’d ever smelled before filled your entire being. Deep and musky, like pine and woodsmoke, yet sharp and fresh, like the air after a rainfall. 

It pulled the deepest of gasps from you, and you dropped the stack of plates you’d been carrying out of the house for the outdoor supper. You vaguely heard your mother calling your name, asking what was wrong, but you hardly registered it. Without another thought, your legs were moving of their own accord, carrying you straight for the brunette-haired man walking up the lane. 

He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a figure quickly approaching. But that wasn’t what caught his attention. It was the scent. Sweet and spicy and delicious. He tensed, his eyes widening as his nostrils flared slightly. He’d never been hit with something so strong and irresistible. Suddenly his world was spinning off its axis as he realized what this meant. 

His heart began to pound in his chest. His palms grew clammy. His knees went weak. And then, suddenly, you were in front of him, eyes glowing yellow, bright as the sun, and he thought he was going to suffocate right then and there as the breath left his lungs. 

You weren’t sure who moved forward first. But all at once you were in each other’s space, like two lovers reunited after years apart. 

Rhett leaned in and pressed his nose to the side of your neck, breathing in deeply. You buried your face against his chest and inhaled sharply. This was customary for wolves. Especially ones mated to each other, to greet one another by taking in the other’s scent.

When you parted, you realized that his eyes were glowing, too. 

“It’s you,” he whispered, awestruck. His chest heaved. He could hardly take in oxygen. 

You barely knew what to do with yourself. You were so overwhelmed that all you could do was stare at him, drinking him in. The one you had dreamed of since you were small. Your hands lifted of their own accord, and you ran them over his face. Down his neck. Across his chest. Feeling that he was in fact real and that this wasn’t a dream. 

Then, when you found your voice, you breathlessly spoke. “I’ve been waiting my whole life for you.” 

Rhett finally found the breath he needed, and a disbelieving laugh brushed past his parted lips. He could hardly believe his eyes. Here you were, standing before him. The one he thought he’d never meet. He’d been certain that he was cursed to go through life without a mate. Yet here you were, standing in front of him, and an all-consuming sense of elation buzzed through him, like fizzy champagne in his veins.

You watched as he took a step back, his boots crunching against gravel as he threw his head back, face turned to the sky. He took a deep breath and let out a deep wolf howl, sounding through the wilderness. It echoed off the trees and it shook you to your core.

You couldn’t help the laughter that began to pour from your mouth. Laughter of disbelief. Laughter of joy. Laughter of love. “It’s you!” You repeated his own words from moments prior, still laughing, so happy you could barely contain it. 

He looked back at you, his eyes, back to a thrilling and human blue, framed by smile lines as he grinned at you. His howl had alerted the rest of your pack, and his own, and moments later, they were all gathering in the clearing to see what was going on.

You grabbed Rhett’s hand, holding it up high as your fingers intertwined. “I’ve found him!” You cried. “I’ve found my mate!”

That night, what had started as a friendly dinner between new neighbors turned into a celebration that lasted well into the night. It was a joyous occasion, to find one’s mate, deserving of an extravagant celebration. 

You swore you didn’t stop smiling for the entire night. The realization that in a moment of divine fate, you had met the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with. Your soulmate. The half to your whole. Suddenly, all the strife that you’d gone to just to get to this point seemed all worth it. Because now, here was this beautiful man beside you, rugged but gentle, with kind eyes and a shy smile. And he was everything you’d dreamed he would be. 

Your families gave you time alone that night, and you walked beneath the light of the half moon, side by side, straying away from all the activity to find a quiet spot. 

You sat in a clearing in the woods and you talked for hours. You told Rhett all about your pack, and the unrest that had forced you to move all the way out here to Wyoming. You spoke of each pack member with such reverence and respect, and it sent a pang of envy through him. 

He revealed to you that he did not have the most positive relationship with his family. 

“We’ve, uh, we’ve been through some shit, the last few years. It’s put a strain on the pack. ‘specially my relationship with my brother.” He gazed out across the expanse of the woods, and in the silver light of the moon, you saw a sadness in his eyes. “His wife Rebecca left him and Amy. He didn’t take it very well.”

“That’s sad,” you whispered sympathetically. “Do you know why she left?”

Rhett’s eyes remained trained toward the distance, and you didn’t miss the way his jaw tensed. “Don’t tell my folks I said this, but he ran ‘er off. I saw it comin’ from a mile away, but everybody else seemed blindsided when she wound up running for the hills.”

“Were they mates?” You questioned. 

“Nah. Perry said they were, but they weren’t. He didn’t want to wait to find his mate. Went against pack customs just so he could have Rebecca for his own. She went along with it at first. Even had a baby with him. But when I tell you I ain’t never seen a more unhappy woman in my life. She was a nice gal but she was fuckin’ miserable with my brother. Eventually it got so bad that she up and left. Didn’t even take Amy with her, that’s how bad things were,” he explained. 

Your eyes widened at the thought. You’d always been told that the bond between mama wolves and their pups was unmatched, running deeper than even the lowest depth of the sea. For one to just up and leave her baby was unheard of. It made you shudder to think just how terrible things must have been to push Rebecca away like that. 

You shook your head. “Poor Amy.”

Rhett hummed in agreement. “Her mama’s been gone a year now. She’s adapted okay, but she seems kinda lonely. Kids at school can’t relate to her because they ain’t wolves like she is.”

“I guess it really was fate that brought us here then, huh? All my little cousins will befriend her, she won’t have to worry about feeling as alone anymore.”

He smiled softly, glancing at you. “Sure am thankful to that Fate fella. I’ll have to thank him if I ever meet him face to face. Thank him for bringin’ you to me.”

It was your turn to smile, and you turned your face away, hiding the shy glimmer that lit up your eyes. But Rhett reached out, hooking his fingers under your chin and turning your face back toward him. “I know we’ve got some more formalities to go through before we’re joined together, but I want you to know that right here, right now, I’m pledgin’ myself to you and only you for the rest of my life.”

You closed your eyes, breathing in deeply again, letting his intoxicating scent wash over you once more. “And I pledge myself to you,” you replied. 

Your gaze remained fixed on his own, and his hand shifted, moving to cup your cheek. His eyes flickered to your lips, then back up to your own eyes, as if asking permission. You gave the tiniest of nods, and he leaned in, so close you could almost taste him. 

Until, suddenly, a sharp whistle sounded through the woods. You broke apart abruptly, and Rhett sighed, rising to his feet. “That would be my mama.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. “Guess we should head back then.”

And so you did, walking hand in hand back to the house. You knew from that moment on that everything was about the change. You would soon begin the ritual of preparing for your wedding, a formality in which your packs would be joined together through your matrimony. Everything you had been dreaming of for your entire life was finally coming true, and it all felt so close, yet so far. 

That night, after you bid goodnight to Rhett, you went to bed with a smile on your face and warmth in your heart. You fell asleep dreaming of the life you would lead together. A future that held many unspoken promises. A home of your own. A growing family that would carry on your bloodline, one of the greatest honors that could be bestowed upon a wolf. 

In the following weeks, much preparation was made. You began the process of getting to know Rhett, spending many nights going on walks, learning the inner workings of one another. And then came the week just before your wedding. A night on which the moon hung low and full-bellied in the sky. The night you shifted beneath the glow of that very moon, sharing the very special and intimate moment of transforming into your wolves.

Rhett’s wolf was deep brown, almost black, with the softest fur you’d ever felt. He was breathtaking, and as you shifted into your own wolf, you found yourself nuzzling into him, letting him know you were there, that you were with him until death did you part. 

And then, finally, your wedding day arrived. It was a beautifully warm day. The sun filtered through the trees and cast dapples of light all over, like rays of magic falling from the sky. You’d kept things simple, as wolf weddings normally were. A crown of flowers placed delicately upon your head. A simple, flowing dress. Bare feet so you could feel the forest floor beneath you.

You stood before Rhett, underneath the swaying leaves of a century-old weeping willow, where you spoke your vows to one another, and joined yourselves, and your packs, as one. 

As you pledged yourself to your mate, you wept tears of joy, and when he kissed you, so tenderly and reverently, you held onto him tightly, as if he might disappear if you let go. Now that you’d found him, you never wanted to let him go. 

“I’m yours,” he whispered against your mouth. 

“Forever,” you echoed. 

The celebration that followed was grand. Music and dancing, old folk tales told around a bonfire whose flames seemed to touch the very sky. It was the most wonderful night of your life, and nothing could steal your immense joy away. 

And so, your life together began. Your union brought your families together, and gave the Abbotts a sense of community that they had not previously had. Just as you’d hoped, Amy made friends with the young ones in your pack. Your parents developed a strong connection with Royal and Cecelia. The rest of your family was warm and welcoming. 

As you became integrated with the Abbotts, you made the decision to live on their property. Before you’d even met, Rhett had been in the process of converting the old barn loft into an apartment. It soon became a project that you worked to complete together. A home built with love, filled with love. 

Through that process, while you waited for the apartment to become livable, you took up residence in Rhett’s childhood bedroom. It was small, but it was comfortable, and it smelled like him, your favorite scent in the whole wide world, so you were content. 

Living in the house allowed you to grow closer to his mother, and especially to his niece Amy. Your heart ached for the little girl and all that she had been through. You longed to be a comfort to her if she needed it. And much to your utter joy, she took well to you. 

“I’m happy you’re mated to Uncle Rhett,” she told you in earnest. “I’ve never seen him smile so much before. I can tell he really loves you.”

Her words made your heart warm in your chest. “I’m happy, too,” you replied. 

The girl’s face fell a little as she looked down at the napkins she was folding for the dinner table. “I wish my mama and daddy had looked at each other like that.”

And in an instant, your heart was breaking in your chest. 

The absence of Rebecca Abbott weighed heavily on the entire family. Cecelia still held out hope that she would return. Royal liked to claim that she’d gone and “shacked up with a good-for-nothin’ lowlife.” Perry liked to insist she was going to come back any day and beg for his forgiveness. 

Rhett believed otherwise. “I don’t think she’d ever come back here in a million years. Either she found another pack, or she’s out there still runnin’ around as an omega,” he told you. 

Rhett’s belief that she wasn’t coming back, and Perry’s insistence that she was, often caused tension between the brothers. They both tried to remain civil for Amy’s sake, but it seemed that Perry was only growing more restless as time went on. 

He would get especially agitated just before the full moon. Which was natural for any wolf, but with him, it seemed to increase tenfold. And when his anger and bitterness reached its breaking point, he would take it out on whoever was in his path. Usually, it was Rhett. 

You would never forget the first time you witnessed him blow up at your husband in front of you. There was one thing you were certain of in that very moment: it was going to be the last time he ever did it. 

A perfectly quiet family dinner in the Abbott kitchen was disrupted when the conversation turned to Rebecca. It was Perry who brought her up, claiming that he was certain she would return soon, that he could feel it. 

It was very common for wolves to be able to feel when their mate was near. You always felt Rhett’s presence when you were apart, and it was that much stronger when you were together. 

However, you and Rhett both knew what utter bullshit it was for Perry to claim he could feel her when they weren’t even mates to begin with. And his comment pushed Rhett to react. 

“Quit sayin’ she’s gonna come back. You and I both know she won’t ever come back here again, Per.” The moment he said it, Rhett wished he could take the words back. Not because of his brother, but because of Amy. 

Her wide eyes flickered up from the plate that she’d been staring at. But instead of looking at Rhett, she looked at her father. 

“Is that true, Dad?” She asked, her voice small. 

Perry clenched his jaw as he glared at his brother. “Now look what you did. Got my daughter all upset.”

Rhett sighed. The child needed to hear the truth. “Look, Ames. I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. Your mama isn’t coming back.”

Without so much as a warning, Perry shoved his plate away, which bumped his glass of water and sent it spilling across the table. You tensed beside Rhett, afraid of what was coming. 

“Perry!” Cecelia exclaimed, staring wide-eyed at her son’s outburst. 

He stood up from his chair, its wooden legs scraping against the linoleum. “What’d I fuckin’ tell you, Rhett? You’re really gonna upset a little girl like that and rip away the last shred of hope she had left?”

Rhett sighed deeply, shaking his head. “It’s better than you lyin’ to her about it.”

“Fuck you!” He shouted. “Ever since you brought this bitch into our home you’ve been subscribing to her fuckin’ ideals.” He motioned toward you. “She probably put you up to this, didn’t she? Told you to destroy what hope my daughter had left.”

At the derogatory comment directed at you, Rhett shot out of his seat, quick as lightning, his eyes glowing. You followed suit, immediately on the defensive. 

“Alright, enough!” Royal barked. But even his authoritative tone didn’t get the attention of his boys. 

“Don’t you dare talk about her like that!”

“It’s true! She’s fuckin’ changed you, man. Turned you into someone I don’t even recognize.”

“Yeah, she changed me! Into a better man! Which is more than I can say Rebecca ever did for you! Oh wait, that’s because she wasn’t even your mate to begin with!”

“Stop!” Amy cried, already in tears. “Just stop!”

But it was too late. Perry had been pushed over the edge, and before anyone could even register what was happening, he was lunging. Cecelia tried to grab him, but he was too quick, and in seconds, he was crowding Rhett’s space.

But he didn’t get very far. Much to your own surprise, you moved faster than you ever had in your life, placing yourself in front of your husband. Your body burned with the overwhelming desire to protect. Your eyes flashed yellow, and you bared your fangs, growling lowly. 

“Touch him and I’ll drop you right where you stand,” you snarled. 

Perry growled right back at you, his eyes going bright yellow to match your own. You knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if he made another move toward Rhett, you would go for his throat. 

“Dad, stop,” Amy spoke up. She got up from the table and ran to stand between you both. She let out a little growl of her own, entirely non-threatening, but it didn’t matter. She didn’t want to see her family fighting. “Please. Everyone just stop! I don’t want you to fight!”

“Listen to your daughter, Perry,” you spoke out. You could feel Rhett against your back, ready to act if need be. 

A beat passed. You held Perry’s gaze, unwilling to back down. Another beat. Then, finally, he surrendered, stepping back. He knew it wasn’t worth it. It was suicide to go up against another wolf’s mate. When it came to protecting what was yours you would fight to the death. Perry seemed to know he wouldn’t stand a chance. 

He had no idea what it was like. He’d never experienced that deep, primal, territorial need to protect. Not with Rebecca. He had it with Amy, but that was different. She was his child, it was natural to protect her. But he had no idea how deep the bonds of two truly mated wolves went. He couldn’t bond with Rebecca in that way because she’d never been his to begin with. 

Rather than fight a losing fight, Perry stalked away that night, leaving the rest of you in the kitchen to process what had just happened. And Amy, who remained in front of you until her father disappeared from the room, finally turned, and rushed into your arms. 

Your heart broke as she began to cry. “I’m sorry!” She whimpered, apologizing for her father’s behavior. 

It only made you angry, because it wasn’t fair that this 9-year-old little one had to apologize for him. You hated all she had been subjected to in her young age. And that was the moment you pledged to always look out for her. If her mama wasn’t going to do it, then you would. And you would do a damn good job of it, too. 

After that night, Perry steered clear of you. He seemed to realize that if he were to ever challenge you, you would kill him. No hesitation. He didn’t stand a chance. Rhett knew that you had his back, and you would always stand by him, even when faced with adversity brought upon him by his own family. 

That protectiveness was a two-way street. Rhett looked out for you just as fiercely as you did him. And while you were busy defending him against his brother, he was going to bat for you against other things. You would never forget the first time you saw him physically defend you. It was seared into your mind like a brand.

You were out on a hike with Amy. It was blackberry season, and she was desperate to pick them while they were perfectly ripe. Her grandmother was too busy with other gardening endeavors to go out into the woods to help her pick wild ones, so you offered to go instead. 

Before the heat of the day grew too overwhelming, the two of you set off, with you leaving a kiss against Rhett’s lips and a promise that you’d be back in time to join him for lunch later that day. Amy was so excited, babbling excitedly the entire hike up into the woods. 

She was fascinated by all things nature, and she knew the area like the back of her hand, so she was well aware of where the very best berries grew. She led you deeper and deeper into the woods until you came upon an entire gathering of sprawling blackberry bushes, ripe for the picking.

“See? I told ya!” She excitedly said, running on ahead of you, her tin bucket swinging in her hands. 

You couldn’t help but smile at her eagerness, quickening your steps so you could catch up with her. What followed was an hour-long blackberry picking process, and after the fact, that bucket was full to the brim with ripe, juicy berries. 

“Grandma’s gonna be so happy! She can make her blackberry preserves! And blackberry pie! And blackberry syrup for pancakes!” She spoke a mile a minute, informing you of all the ways the berries could be used, and how she couldn’t wait for you to try them all. 

However, you found yourself growing distracted when the wind carried a strange scent in your direction. You paused, lifting your head and breathing in deep. Something didn’t feel right. Amy noticed this, and she eyed you curiously. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I smell something,” you replied. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end. 

Amy turned, sniffing at the air. Then, suddenly, she gasped. “Cougar,” she said. 

You glanced around. You couldn’t see it, but you could tell the animal was close. You’d never had an encounter with a cougar. While you knew you could hold your own against an animal like that, having Amy in tow only made you nervous that the cougar would try to harm her. Surely it would be able to sense that you were wolves and not normal human beings. But maybe that would only make things worse. 

You wrapped your arm around Amy’s shoulders. “Let’s just go. Maybe it’ll leave us alone.”

But no sooner had you spoken than you heard a bone-chilling growl, and you turned, catching sight of a large cat just ahead of you. Your blood turned to ice in your veins, and on instinct, you pushed Amy behind you, keeping a hand on her as you slowly backed away.

You locked eyes with the cougar, flashing your golden irises, hoping that would be a deterrent. However, the cat only bared its fangs and crouched back on its haunches. Your heart began to hammer in your chest. There was no time to hesitate. 

“The second he jumps, I want you to run,” you told Amy.

“But I don’t wanna leave you!” She exclaimed, trembling with fear. 

“You can’t shift yet. You’re safer running than you are staying here with me,” you emphasized. Amy was just a baby, her wolf hadn’t even made its appearance yet, and even if it had, it would only be a pup. Not strong enough to fight a fully grown cougar. 

“But-” she never had a chance to finish the sentence, because in a flash, the cat was lunging at you. Amy let out a shrill scream that carried through the trees. 

On the Abbott ranch, Rhett’s head snapped up when he heard the scream. He had been hard at work trying to finish up the project of converting the old barn, but at the sound of his niece’s shriek, he dropped the tools he was holding. 

A shock of what felt like electricity rippled through him, and he grunted, realizing that you were in danger. Without a moment’s hesitation, he was running, hyper-focused on the area that the sound had come from. As he ran, his body shifted and transformed, until, moments later, he was no longer a man, but a sleek, black wolf, running fast as the wind. 

In the woods, you were preparing to fight for your life. You physically tossed Amy out of the way so that when the cat landed, it would hit you instead of her. You didn’t even have time to shift into your wolf. Or, rather, white-hot terror blossomed within you when you realized you couldn’t shift. 

Your fangs had elongated and your claws had come out, but your body remained in its human form. And when you realized this, it was too late. 200 pounds of muscle crashed into your chest, sending you back toward the forest floor.

You screamed, growling as threateningly as possible, but it didn’t seem to do much to scare the animal. You thought for certain that this was it, that you were going to die right then and there. But then, in a flash of black fur glinting in the sunlight, an earth-rattling roar ripped through the air, and in a split second, the cat was no longer on top of you.

Gasping sharply, you sat up, eyes wild as you took in the sight before you. There was Rhett in his wolf form, and he had the cougar by the neck. Beside you, Amy let out a sob as she scrambled toward you. You grabbed her, wrapping your arms protectively around her, turning her face away so she wouldn’t have to watch. 

The cat snarled and hissed, clawing at Rhett’s wolf, and it caught him on the side, at which he let out an agonized yelp that made you flinch. But he quickly regained dominance and in seconds, the cat let out an inhuman screech and quickly scrambled away from the wolf, turning to hiss once more before running off, wounded, into the woods, clearly realizing it was not going to win this fight.

Rhett followed after it to make sure it was long gone. In the meantime, Amy was crying against your chest. “Is it gone?!” She whimpered. 

You ran your fingers through her honey-colored hair, soothing her softly, even as your own body still trembled with fear. “Yes, baby. It’s gone.”

She sat upright, glancing around. “Where’s Uncle Rhett?!” Her voice was panicked, terrified.

But you didn’t have to reassure her, for seconds later, the wolf returned. Amy scrambled to her feet and ran to him, falling to her knees as she threw her arms around his neck. The wolf whined lowly as he nuzzled against the girl, sniffing at her to make sure she was unharmed. 

As you approached, he locked eyes with you, and you knelt beside Amy, reaching out to run your hand over his fur. You could tell he was hurt. The slash in his side from the cougar’s claws was bleeding crimson. But he wouldn’t rest until he saw you both to safety.

“Thank you,” you whispered, and he rested his head upon your shoulder before he finally pulled away. He pointed his head toward the trail home, wanting you to follow, and so you did. Amy gathered up her half-spilled bucket of berries, grabbed onto your hand, and followed Rhett’s wolf out of the woods and back toward the house. 

It was only after he made sure that you and Amy were safely returned home that he allowed himself to shift back to his human form. As Cecelia fussed over Amy, Rhett trotted after you into his bedroom upstairs, and as soon as the door was shut, his fur faded away, giving way to pale, smooth skin. Within moments, there was your husband kneeling bare before you, all signs of his animal form gone. 

“Baby,” you breathed, falling to your knees in front of him, reaching your hands up to hold his face. “You’re hurt.” The claw marks along his ribs looked even worse in his human form. 

He shook his head. “I’m fine. I’ll heal,” he replied. Then it was his turn to check you over for any harm. “Did that son’bitch hurt you?”

“I…I don’t think so. Just scared me, is all. I couldn’t shift, and by the time I realized that, it was on top of me.”

Rhett’s brow furrowed as he frowned, large hands coming up to rest against either side of your neck. “It’s ‘cause you were scared,” he whispered. “It’s happened to me before. I froze up, got so fuckin’ into my head that my wolf didn’t wanna come out.”

“Really?” You asked, a little relieved that you weren’t alone.

“Yeah. She’ll come out again, don’t you worry.”

You hummed in understanding, happy that Rhett knew exactly what you were dealing with, and that it was nothing to worry about. Then, the time for realization kicked in. The realization that it all could have been so much worse, and you were lucky that Rhett stepped in when he did. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, after you’d both finally stood, allowing Rhett to gather a clean set of clothes. “I feel so fucking useless, not being able to protect Amy the way I needed to. I hate that I froze up. I’m just so relieved you heard us and got to us in time.”

Rhett shook his head, stepping toward you as he finished pulling on his jeans. String fingers tilted your chin up. “You did your best in a fuckin’ scary situation. Hell, you were ready to sacrifice yourself so Amy would be safe. That’s not you bein’ useless. You protected her just like any mama wolf would protect her pup.”

His words brought unexpected tears to your eyes. When he saw them glimmering along your lash line, he smiled softly, thumb stroking over your cheek. “You did good, little wolf.”

The nickname, which he’d dubbed you after the first few weeks of knowing you, made you smile, despite the tears running down your cheeks. 

After that encounter, it seemed that your bond only deepened. You grew even closer than before, your hearts knit together by an unbreakable invisible force. And as your love blossomed and flourished, you crossed the threshold of new milestones together. 

One of those milestones was finally moving into the old barn that you’d been renovating together. It had gone from a barebones wooden shell to a cozy home with room for your family to grow. It allowed you to still remain near the rest of your combined pack, but also gave you a haven of privacy. Gone were the days of sharing his childhood bedroom and trying to stay quiet while in a house full of wolves with keen hearing. Now you had your own space to do whatever you pleased together. 

Although moving into your own space was a very big milestone for you, it was nothing compared to what was coming your way. 

There was a very special and celebrated time that took place between werewolf couples. Much like regular wolves, werewolves had a mating season. The first season shared between mates was pivotal in their relationship. 

You and Rhett had yet to experience that season yet. On your own, you had endured heats before. It was only a natural occurrence. But you had heard that the heat you experienced on your own was nothing compared to that first one you would experience with your mate. 

Secretly, in your own mind, you had fantasized about what it might be like. You were already insatiable enough as it was during heat. The thought of it being increased tenfold was unimaginable for you. 

You knew the pattern of your cycle. It was easy to follow. You would enter into heat twice a year. Once in the springtime, and once in autumn. Each time it would last around 7 to 14 days. 

Your marriage to Rhett took place in early summertime. Which meant, along with the changing of leaves and the cooling of the air, you would soon be entering into that heat stage. You knew it was coming. It was marked in red on your calendar. 

You were nervous, to say the least. While you were eager to experience it with him, it was all so new. Sex was not a foreign concept between the two of you. You’d had it plenty of times since your marriage. But this was different. This was a primal, instinctual ritual. One that could potentially result in your bloodline being continued. 

You were entirely unprepared for just how intense it would be. As the season turned, your body prepared itself for another cycle. It started subtly at first, but soon grew into so much more. 

Possessiveness and protectiveness over your mate was the first thing you noticed, increased even more so than usual. That possessive streak reared its ugly head when an unsuspecting human girl tried to flirt with Rhett. You found yourself pulling him against your side and quite literally growling at her. It was not your proudest moment, but you could not control the wolf inside you. She did what she wanted. 

The protectiveness came when anyone disrespected him. It didn’t matter who. Although Perry generally tried to steer clear of running his mouth at Rhett in your presence, there were times when he slipped up. And this time around, you found yourself with your claws at his throat when he made a comment under his breath. 

“Say it again,” you hissed, baring your sharp canines. “Go on, say it!”

It took both Rhett and Royal to pull you off of him. That instance, however, you were not sorry for. You would never be ashamed of defending your husband. 

Soon, the irritability and possessiveness melted away into something else. Your every sense was heightened. Your already keen wolf senses were increased to the point where you could hardly even bear it. 

And then came the desire. 

Nothing in the world could have prepared you for how all-consuming it would be. It hit you like a freight train, slamming into your body and sending you into orbit. It started as a dull ache that very quickly began to spread throughout your body. 

The first day you woke up with it, you were animalistic. It drove you out of your slumber and sent you shooting upright in bed, growling as you pressed your hands against your lower abdomen, where the ache had settled. 

Much to your utter dismay, Rhett was not in bed beside you. He was more than aware about your approaching heat, and he tried to spend as much time with you as he could. But that morning, his father had called him out of bed at an ungodly hour to handle an issue with an injured calf. That took him away from you, and when you discovered he was gone, you let out a pained yowl, curling into a ball. 

“Rhett!” You desperately cried out, hoping he was still nearby. But you were met with no answer. 

Groaning, you dragged yourself out of bed, and you gasped sharply, placing a hand over your mouth when you realized that your need had soaked straight through the panties you’d worn to bed. They weren’t just damp. They were drenched. 

When you stood, your knees almost buckled, and your hand shot out to steady yourself against the bedpost. “Holy fuck,” you whimpered. You had never in your life felt such a sensation. 

It was an ache so strong that there were no words to describe it. An agony that was not quite painful, but maddening nonetheless. And there was only one way to soothe it. Rhett was the only one capable of easing the burning fire. The only one who could act as a soothing salve. But he was nowhere to be found. 

How could he just leave? In your agitated state it only served to upset you all the more. He knew you were coming up on your heat. He knew you needed him. How could he leave you all alone to deal with it?

Of course, he hadn’t done it on purpose. That morning when he’d woken before the sun, he could smell you. Your scent had increased, its spicy sweetness making his head spin. But he knew how Royal would get if he refused to help his father with the issue at hand, and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with the man’s contrariness. 

Leaving you in bed that morning had been incredibly difficult. But he left with the hope that this project wouldn’t take long, and he’d be back with you before you ever woke up. 

But that was four hours ago, and he was still dealing with an injured calf, a distressed mama cow, and one irritated Royal Abbott. The situation had given Rhett a distraction, but back at home, you had none. 

You swiped your phone off of your nightstand with the intent of calling him to see where he was. However, when you dialed, you were alerted to the sound of ringing coming from his own nightstand. He’d left his phone at home. 

You growled in frustration, tossing your phone onto the bed, just as another surge of molten need vibrated through you, sending you to your knees. Your body trembled, and the intensity was so great that you could feel yourself beginning to shift. 

Your claws lengthened from your fingers, ripping shreds into the side of the duvet as you held onto the mattress for support. You felt out of control, and it was a scary feeling. You hadn’t felt this way since your first full moon, and even that wasn’t comparable to how intense it was now. 

The full moon didn’t leave an agonizing ache in your cunt like this. No, this was solely the result of your body’s natural drive to mate. But how on earth were you meant to do that if the one you were mated to wasn’t even here?

Tears welled in your eyes, and you forced yourself to rage deep, ragged breaths. Maybe if you could just get to the bathroom, you could put yourself under a cold shower and hopefully snap yourself out of this feverish state. 

You stood on unsteady legs and stumbled toward the steps, which you rushed down until you made it to the main floor area below the loft. You burst into the bathroom and immediately turned on the shower to a cold spray, stripping out of your shirt and panties and jumping in. 

You hissed as the chilly water enveloped you, cascading down your heated skin. It provided a small amount of relief, but it didn’t take the discomfort away completely. 

You knew that you couldn’t relieve the ache yourself, but that didn’t stop you from trying. You reached a trembling hand between your thighs, running your fingers over your center, your legs nearly giving out as you brushed against your swollen, thrumming clit. 

You let out a sharp whimper and jolted forward. You tried to soothe your need to be filled by using your fingers, but they were nothing compared to Rhett. His fingers, his cock. They didn’t reach that spot inside you that made you see stars. You were left feeling unsatisfied and even needier than before. 

In frustration, you leaned back against the shower walls squeezing your eyes shut and trying to steady your breathing. You imagined this was how wolves felt in the wild. You hardly felt like you could exercise your human control anymore. You’d heard of werewolves shifting permanently into their wolf bodies and giving in to their wild nature. It didn’t seem that far-fetched that it could happen to you. 

In the midst of your plight, Rhett had just looked at the sky and realized that the sun’s placement must mean it was nearly 10 o’clock in the morning. His eyes widened. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed since he’d left early that morning, but it had been almost five hours. He knew you were awake by now, and probably desperate as all get out. 

He patted his jeans for his phone, but found his pockets empty. And then he remembered, he’d accidentally left it behind that morning. “Shit,” he cursed. He snatched up his Carhartt jacket that he had draped over one of the stall doors. “Dad, I gotta go,” he called out to his father.

“Hang on,” Royal replied, but Rhett shook his head, already halfway out the barn door.

“M’ wife needs me, I gotta get back. Ask Per for help if you need it.” And then he was gone, scrambling out into the cool October morning. His mind was spinning as he pictured you home alone. You were likely at your wit's end. 

Sure enough, when he finally made it to the house, it was your scent that nearly knocked him flat on his ass as he walked through the door. He grunted as if he’d been kicked in the gut, stumbling back against the wooden door. 

His every sense was overwhelmed by you. Deep, spicy, sweet. Irresistible and divine, all at once. His heart rate began to quicken in his chest, and he gasped as he straightened, hastily kicking his boots off by the door. “Little wolf?!” He called out.

At the sound of his voice, a sob of relief tore from you. You had just climbed out of your cold shower, towel wrapped around your body. “Rhett!” You wailed, your voice coming out as a desperate, animalistic yowl. 

He knew exactly where you were, he could hear the pounding of your heart, the shallowness of your breath. He was drawn straight to you like a moth to flame, and within seconds, he was at the bathroom door, just as you flung it open.

“Rhett!” You wailed again, throwing yourself into his arms as sobs wracked your body. “Wh-where were yo-you?! I needed you and you were gone! Why did you leave me?” 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby. Dad needed help and I didn’t think I’d be gone that long, but that was five fuckin’ hours ago. I’m sorry.”

You clutched at his shirt, and he gasped when he heard a rip, only to find that your claws had torn through the fabric of his flannel. “Shit, okay, hold on,” he told you, pulling you back to look fully into your face. Your skin was damp, but it wasn’t from the shower you’d just taken. You were sweaty but also hot to the touch, as if you had a high fever. 

Your eyes were glowing gold, and through your parted lips he could see your fangs. And oh, how you trembled. So much so that he had to hold you steady so you didn’t fall. “Please,” you whimpered, “it hurts so bad, please, I-I can’t take it anymore! I feel like I’m on fucking fire!”

Rhett was overwhelmed. You smelled so good, like the natural scent that had drawn him to you when you first became mates. But there was something else, something that could only be described as sex. It felt like it was altering his very brain chemistry.

Then he growled, deep and low in his throat, and pressed his nose to your neck, breathing in deep before he began trailing lower, in search of the source. He ripped your towel away from your body and nuzzled at you until he finally stopped between your thighs, pressing his nose against your cunt and inhaling. 

You gazed down at him, and his own eyes flashed yellow to match yours. Possessively, he nipped at your inner thigh. “I’m here now, little wolf,” he assured you, “I’ll take care of you.”

“Please,” you sobbed, “I can’t…I don’t know if I can…” but the words died in your throat. 

He straightened back up, leaning in to kiss you deeply as he quickly shrugged out of his shirt, tossing it aside before you reached for his belt, trying to unbuckle it, but quickly growing tearful and frustrated. He shushed you with another kiss and unbuckled the belt himself, shoving his jeans and underwear down his legs all at once, freeing his already hardening cock. 

As soon as you saw it, you mewled, dropping to your knees and rubbing your face against the velvety skin. Rhett grunted, his head spinning at the sight of you nuzzling your cheek against his dick. You were so far gone, and it was dizzying to him. 

“Need it so bad,” you whined, kitten licking the tip as the shaft hardened. “Need it so deep inside me.”

“I’m gonna give it to you, promise,” he rasped. Then he hauled you to your feet, with the intention of pulling you up to your bedroom in the loft, but you never made it. You couldn’t wait another second, and in a flurry of desperation, you grabbed onto him, tugging him hard and sending you both to the floor. 

He landed on his back as you climbed on top of him, but in true wolf fashion, he snarled, wrestling you until you were the one lying on your back on the floor. In this way, he showed his dominance over you, securing his right to be your mate.

“Gettin’ big for your britches, little wolf,” he muttered as he ran his nose over your flesh, inhaling you. You had very quickly turned to putty in his hands, especially when you felt his cock against your inner thigh.

“Need it! I need it, please! Please, please, please!” You wept, entirely forgetting your little fight for dominance that had taken place moments earlier. The ache between your legs had increased all the more. A throbbing, burning, crushing ache that made you feel like you were suffocating, as if you’d die if you didn’t become one with him in the next few seconds. 

Rhett looked down and he saw why you were so desperate. Your cunt was puffy, and with the sunlight that was streaming in through the windows, he could see how wet it was. You’d only been on the floor for a few moments but your arousal had already dripped down onto the hardwood. “Oh my god,” he whispered in amazement. 

He couldn’t contain himself if he tried. He placed his hands on the floor, at either side of your head, and nudged his hips forward. When you felt the blunt head of his cock against you, you whimpered. It burned, it burned, it burned. Until, suddenly…

“Oh!” He was inside you in one fluid motion. Every last inch of him, filling you to the brim, fitting inside you like he was created to. Because he was. You were two unique souls made perfectly for each other. 

“I’ve got ya, sweet baby. I’ve got ya,” he assured you as you whimpered and whined at the fullness. 

And suddenly, all at once, that terrible, gnawing ache began to fade. It felt like a healing salve to a grave wound. You gasped, your eyes widening as you gazed up at your husband. “Rhett,” you squeaked.

“I know.”

Tears filled your eyes as you finally felt relief for the first time that day. Those same tears began to track down the sides of your face, and you couldn’t help but let out a breathless sob. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and clung to him as he began to slowly move. 

With each push and pull of his cock within you, your body reacted accordingly, providing you with even more lubricant until he was moaning, gasping at the feeling. “Shit, darlin’, you’re dribblin’ all over me.”

“S-sorry,” you peeped, squeezing your eyes shut. “Ca-can’t help it. Feels too good. Feels…oh, feels so fucking…good…”

You threw your head back as he built a rhythm, slow at first, but the pace soon quickened. Back and forth, faster and faster, until it could only be described as rutting. You felt so fucking full, and he kept you that way, barely pulling his hips back, instead fucking you in a pulsing motion. It was too much and not enough. You started to grow desperate again. The ache was gone, but it had been replaced with molten heat, as if your insides were melting. 

“Harder, harder, harder!” You cried out.

He obliged, grunting laboriously as he drove into you harder. You wrapped your legs around his waist, keeping him close as he plunged his cock into you repeatedly. The sounds escaping both of you were animalistic. Growls and snarls and hisses, the wild animals caged within you trying to claw their way to the surface. 

He was so deep inside you, every ridge and vein of his cock creating such divine friction within you that it felt like you were being burned alive in the most wonderful, indescribable way. 

Your claws dug into the tender flesh of his back, and he gnarled, snapping his teeth at you, but not in a threatening way. He nuzzled into your neck, the sharp tips of those fangs pressing against your pulse point, and you whined, leaning into the pleasurable pain. 

His teeth drew blood, and as soon as the crimson blossomed against your skin, he used his tongue to soothe over it, licking up your lifeblood. The bite mark healed quickly, as injuries normally did, but you could still feel the sting even after it was gone. 

And then, something else happened. It was common for werewolves to shift partially, where their eyes, fangs, and claws became visible. But it was also common for them to grow a little in stature, too. 

You could feel it. His muscles rippled beneath your touch, expanding. His shoulders grew broader. And something else, grew, too. When you felt it, you let out a wolfish yip, jolting against him as his cock swelled within your cunt.

“R-Rhett,” you squeaked, and he shushed you, kissing you languidly.

“You’re okay, little wolf. Feels good, don’t it?”

You managed to nod despite yourself. Your tears kept falling and they wouldn’t stop. But they weren’t tears of pain. Quite the contrary. It didn’t matter that he was growing inside you. Your body was designed to accommodate it. The feeling was incredibly pleasurable, and it sent an intense shudder through your body.

You screwed your eyes shut and mewled as he kept rutting into you, stretching you, filling you, completing you. This felt right. This felt good. This felt like the most natural thing in the world. And it was. Your bodies were joined as one. One force, one soul, one heart. 

“You feel so good,” you repeated yourself, unashamed of the tears still streaming down your cheeks. “So good, so good, so good.”

His hips quickened within you. His hands remained at either side of your head, and you could hear his claws gouging into the hardwood. He’d be pissed about that mark later, but right now, he couldn’t be bothered to care. Nothing else mattered but this. Fulfilling this natural, primal, raw desire to claim, and be claimed. 

The intensity mounted, like a kettle beginning to boil. You held onto him so tightly, encouraging him to go deeper, faster, harder. And he did, until it felt like he was fucking you into the floor. 

He leaned back to watch you, admiring the way your eyes rolled back in your head, the way you shuddered so powerfully, as if you’d just been struck with a bolt of lightning. It felt like you had, because each nudge of his cock in your slick walls sent sparks surging through your core. 

His eyes flickered further down, to the place where your bodies met. Where your cunt clasped him in a vice grip. “Takin’ me so well,” he gruffed, at which you whimpered. Then, you felt his big, warm hand splaying against your lower abdomen. “Gon’ fill you up, little wolf.”

“Please,” you squeaked. 

“Yeah?” He leaned in close, and you opened your eyes, finding golden irises gazing back at you. “Yeah? Want me to get you full of me? Take all my seed like you were made to?”

You cried out, jolting against you when he thrust forward particularly hard, sending your body vibrating with ecstasy. “Need it so bad!” You practically shrieked.

“I’ll give it all to you. Get this pretty tummy nice an’ round. Full of my pups.”

At his words, your entire world tilted on its axis. Your brain went blank with white-hot pleasure. All you knew was “yes, yes, yes!” That was what you wanted. That was what your body was begging for. To mate. To be bred. 

Rhett kissed you again, swallowing your babbled pleas. You felt as if you were not of your body. Like you were floating over yourself, watching your husband fuck you. It was unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

Your body shook and shivered. Your eyes rolled back in your skull. You couldn’t speak. You could hardly breathe. It was immeasurable. Indescribable. You were certain you were going to pass out from the ecstasy. It surged through you from head to toe, sizzling and sparking, illuminating the very edges of your soul, sending you into orbit.

You swore you did black out for a moment. How was it possible that something could feel this good? You had experienced all-consuming pleasure before, multiple times. Rhett was a generous lover who always made you see stars when he fucked you. But this was different. This was mind-bending, soul-shattering, earth-shaking.

You didn’t realize you were repeatedly chanting his name. It left your lips like a prayer, breathlessly whispered up to the heavens. He spoke to you, but you couldn’t hear him. You were deafened by searing pleasure, ringing in your ears, rattling your very bones to their marrow. 

You barely registered his mouth at your neck again, teeth nipping into tender flesh. All you knew was that you were existing on an otherworldly plane. And then you felt it. That flame that had been burning inside you was growing. Hotter, bigger, more intense.

Rhett could feel it. You were trembling uncontrollably, body convulsing as if you’d been struck by raw electricity. Your cunt kept pulsing around him, tightening so intensely that he almost struggled to move within you. 

“Let go,” he rasped, knowing that he, too, was nearing his end. He could feel it, crackling to life at the base of his spine, thrumming within his heavy, aching balls. He was driven by his need to fill you with his very essence. 

“I-I’m c-co-” but you couldn’t speak. The words wouldn’t come. They were impossible. So you simply cried and wailed beneath him, so certain you were about to burst into flames, reduced to nothing but ash.

But you didn’t burst into a fiery inferno. Instead, every nerve, every neuron, every atom of your body was consumed with something you could never, ever describe with mere mortal words. 

Your eyes went wide as you locked your gaze with Rhett’s. Mouth open, chest pressing into his as you jerked forward. And then it hit you. Hard, deep, stretching over every inch of your body. You let out a carnal howl, which surely echoed for miles outside of your home. 

You fell apart around your husband’s cock, keening, sobbing, consumed by blazing euphoria. You felt as if you were part of the universe, an explosion of blazing stars, scattered brilliantly across the universe in a blinding, breathtaking array.

You thought it would end, but it didn’t. Your eyes flew open when you realized you were still coming. “Rhett!” You shrieked. “I-I c-ca-can’t stop!”

His mouth fell open as he gasped sharply, grunting as your body continued to undulate beneath him. But he couldn’t reply, for suddenly, he was overcome. His own release rushed through him in an overwhelming surge, and his grunt turned into a yowl. The heat of his release flooded the very core of your being, filling you until it spilled out around the edges of his cock, dripping down to the floor beneath you.

It took what felt like an eternity for you both to come back to yourselves. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but once Rhett regained feeling in his extremities, he gingerly lifted himself from where his body had fallen against your own.

His eyes were back to their familiar human blue, so brilliant and comforting all at once. His face was soft with concern, and he lifted his hand to gently stroke your tear-dampened cheek. “Y’ okay, little wolf?” He asked. 

You couldn’t find your voice, so you simply nodded, sniffling softly. He soothed you, leaning in close to kiss you deeply. “That was…fuck, that was a lot,” he continued on. 

“I-I know,” you whispered, barely audible. 

Gently, he eased his cock out of you, and you let out a heartbreaking cry at the emptiness. One that he soothed with another kiss. He brought his hand down between your legs, cupping your dripping cunt, soothing any pain he might’ve caused. But you weren’t in pain. Far from it. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here. Got a call from Dad this mornin’ about a calf that got hurt, had to go deal with that and it took all fuckin’ mornin’, and by the time I realized what time it was, it was too late. I know I shouldn't ‘ve left you all alone like that, and I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, reaching up to cup his cheek. “It’s okay. When I was crying at you about it I…I don’t think I was in my right mind. I’ve never felt like that in my entire life. Felt like I could crawl out of my own skin. Hurt so bad, I needed you somethin’ fierce. I’ve had heats before but nothing could ever compare to this.”

Rhett hummed, lifting his own hand to place over the one you’d rested on his cheek. “From now on, I ain’t leavin’ you. Don’t want you goin’ through that alone again. I’ll stay with you until it’s over.”

You nodded. “I’d like that.”

You spent a few more moments on the floor, catching your breath and processing what had just taken place. Rhett glanced at the claw marks he’d left in the hardwood and groaned in annoyance. “Next time you wanna fuck like animals, let’s do it in bed, where I can’t mess up the woodwork I broke my back tryin’ to get perfect,” he grumbled.

You couldn’t help but giggle. “Noted,” you said. 

You allowed him to help you up off the floor, and he pulled you to him, naked bodies pressed together. His gaze grew serious. “I love you, little wolf. I’m gonna take good care of you while you go through this, alright? Don’t want my darlin’ sufferin’ on my watch.”

You beamed at him and bumped your nose against his. “I know you will. You always do.”

Again, he kissed you, and then he guided you back to the bathroom from whence you’d come. There, you showered together, cleansing yourselves of your previous activities. For the time being, you were sated, and that terrible, gnawing ache was gone. What followed was this strange sort of floating feeling. Your bodies were producing special pheromones which intensified the bonding process immediately following sex. 

You felt so connected to Rhett, even more so than you ever had before. It was a little overwhelming. After your shower, you refused to part from one another. You stayed close, curling up in bed for a little rest after such an exhausting morning. Rhett lovingly wrapped you in his embrace, your still bare bodies intertwined. 

He traced patterns on your skin with his fingertips and told you all the things he loved about you. He confessed how grateful he was that you were his mate, and how he’d been lost before he met you. You spoke of your future together and what it might entail. Including the little ones you might add to your family if the Fates smiled down upon you.

You connected on an entirely new level, and it only served to knit your hearts closer together. And then, you drifted off into a peaceful slumber, cuddled in each other’s embrace.

But your body would soon wake you again, and you would be reacquainted with that all too familiar ache. This time, however, Rhett was with you. You found yourself whimpering, crying for him as you shook him awake. 

He remained perfectly calm as he soothed you, kissing you so lovingly as he arranged your body into position. Slowly, steadily, he eased himself into you again, joining your bodies as one. 

“You’re okay, little wolf. I’m right here. I’ll always be right here.”

And you knew he would.

-

tagging (a mix of those already on my taglist/those who might be interested):

@cdauni @gothamrots @happyrebelruins @bobfloydsbabe @myfandomchangesalot @mikpieboo @petersunderoos96 @eighthwvnder @yanna-banana @bradshawsbaby @bradshawsbitch @sebsxphia @basiccortez @thesluttyarchivist @rhettabbotts @milesmillergf @briseisgone @laluneveillesureux @gohnspants @bobfloyds @wkndwlff @damrlova @withahappyrefrain @michaego

#rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott fic

[blainesebastian]

co-stars

words: 2,475 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (request from @lovvelylivv) “hidden co-star relationship“ where austin and female reader are doing press tour 4 elvis and the interviewer is like low key flirting w her and austin is clearly jealous but he can’t do anything bc they’re not public yet.  notes:  masterlist posted here!  warnings: none tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell

It just sort of happened, that’s what you tell your closest friends.

You’ve been in plenty of films before to know the drill—showing up, doing your job and doing it well, going through the motions of before and after a movie wraps, the interviews, the parties, the events, the awards. You know for the most part what to expect.

But what you didn’t expect was Austin.

Your agent comes to you with this great opportunity, to be in a film that’s not quite a biopic but something more than that, a story that needs to be told and shared about Elvis Presley. You’re not quite sure how you fit into this thing or even if you can carry out something that’s so important to this man’s legacy. But you’re a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, and so when you get the part from your audition, you know you’re not going to take anything for granted.

Working with Austin is just the icing on the cake. You knew of him from similar circles, but you didn’t understand how incredibly talented and dedicated he was until working with him firsthand. Not only that but he’s extremely humble, thoughtful, and sweet. Not only was running lines and scenes with him easy, but he also became a fast friend that you could talk to about the film, the industry and just general things you’d been going through.

You knew Austin had lost his mother when he was younger, he’s always been rather open about that with regards to his Elvis role, but you don’t quite have the words to be able to say how much he was there for you when your dad got sick. Right in the middle of filming too. So much of your world was spinning off it’s axis and Austin was the only person that made things slow down, still. Your father eventually got better, but it was an incredibly rocky few months and you don’t think you would have made it through without having someone to lean on.

So it’s only natural that a month or so after that, you two started seeing one another.

At first it was just kissing—electrically charged moments leftover from emotionally vulnerable states, the connection you two felt over shared experiences, shared pain. But it obviously blossomed into being something more than that because your feelings didn’t have anything to do with finding an escape.

Kissing turned into spending the night, which turned into dates, which turned into introducing friends and family—even though your father already knew Austin well from all the time he visited in the hospital. The relationship is serious, yet very private. Both of you know what it’s like to have your lives turned inside out by Hollywood, to constantly being under the microscope of the public eye and…you both want to focus on what’s important, which is right now Elvis and all the hard work you’ve put in over the years.

Your relationship is your business and yours alone, Austin agrees that there’s a time and place to go public. For now, it’s minimal PDA that doesn’t go beyond close friends and the real intimacies behind closed doors. Austin’s a gentleman naturally, so most of the time his mannerisms towards you are easily explained.

It makes sense, though it doesn’t mean it’s always easy.

You walk out of a small back room to an interview space, mostly a red-curtained area that has the ELVIS movie logo behind two tall chairs that you and Austin are going to sit in. You’re not mic’d yet, so small conversations are able to be had as everyone else runs around to get ready for the interview. You give Austin a small smile, his hand along your lower back as you walk to the chairs,

“You gotta help me climb onto these things.”

A soft laugh rumbles in his chest and well, these chairs are slightly awkward. They’re elevated from the ground but especially if you’ve got heels on? You kinda got to hold onto someone else as you hoist yourself up and get situated.

“What would you do without me?” He teases, holding onto your hand and helping you up. “You good?”

“I think,” You shimmy around to get comfortable, adjusting your blazer that you paired with black skinny jeans and black studded heels. Austin’s just got a simple black t-shirt on, pleather pants but…the man could wear grocery store paper and still look great.

“Don’t be fallin’ over in one of these things.” His hand lingers along your hip and brushes your arm as he moves to take the chair next to you and you try not to think about how easily he adjusts with his long legs. One is bent just slightly as his heel rests on a rung of the chair.

“Right, would hate for you to show up at my mom’s house tonight for dinner without me.” You grin, voice an octave lower just in case.

Austin smiles, licking his lips as he runs a hand through his hair, “Your mom loves me—she probably wouldn’t even think twice.”

You snort, shaking your head. Honestly…that’s a bit true. Guaranteed she probably made an extra special dessert or something for him since she knows he’s coming to dinner. You straighten your shoulders as the interviewer comes out behind the red curtain, sitting in the other chair. A slew of other people follow, putting mics on both you and Austin, makeup people padding a few spots on your faces and finally asking if you’d like water or anything else to drink.

The interviewer’s name is Max and he’s this really chill guy from Brooklyn who has his own YouTube channel and podcast and you’re able to talk with him a little bit before getting started, cameras being turned on and intros being swept out of the way. Max does a great job at ping-ponging the questions back and forth to you and Austin, which you really appreciate. Sometimes you’ve been in interviews where questions are mostly for Austin—and that’s totally okay with you, but half the time you’re not even asked a second question in a half hour or hour span of time.

Austin makes sure you’re always pulled into the conversation though too, somehow turning questions about him, his craft, or his experiences, to loop you right into responding. It constantly makes you want to lean over and kiss him on the cheek for being so thoughtful. Max balances the questions out without being prompted, which makes the interview far more interesting to be a part of.

“So, I just gotta pause and say, Y/N, you were incredible in the film,” Max says, “I mean, just as often as I was blown away by Austin, I was astounded with you as well.”

You smile, still not used to taking compliments but you’re always appreciative to hear them. Your cheeks flush a soft pink and you can feel rather than see Austin smiling too in your direction, that sort of proud awe look he’s reserved for you many times over.

“Thank you,” You curl your hair around your ear, “It’s definitely a marathon race kind of movie, twists and turns, all good things though, astounding experiences.”

“What was the most difficult part for you?” Max begins to ask but then touches the earpiece he’s wearing, “Oh wait—hold on. Seems like we’re getting feedback from your mic. Sorry about that,” He stands from the chair, “Gonna need to switch it out.”

“Oh,” You look down, beginning to unclip it from the blazer you’re wearing. Austin picks up his water during the small break, taking a sip as Max gets another mic and helps you switch it out. Your hands brush as you exchange mics but you’re having trouble pinning it back on the lapel of your blazer without it falling.

“Here—let me…” Max trails off, stepping into your personal space. You can see Austin out of the corner of your eye watching, but trying not to, the interaction. You’ve gotten pretty well at sussing out Austin’s body language in this time together, as he’s come to know yours, so it’s clear that he’s not thrilled with how close Max is standing to you.

Though maybe it wouldn’t have been half as bad if Max would have kept his mouth shut.

“Sorry we interrupted your questions,” His fingers loop the mic chord underneath your blazer a bit, “Mic must have short circuited from your beautiful voice.” And while that is definitely the cheesiest line you’ve ever heard to flirt with you, it’s harmless.

Austin, however, definitely rolls his eyes.

You smile lightly, not wanting to be rude when there’s still an interview to get through. “I’m sure that’s not the case—I didn’t have enough caffeine today so maybe it can pick up on me screeching a little.”

Max laughs, pulling back, “Trust me—you got the whole beautiful package goin’ on.”

Austin clears his throat, loud enough that it seems to get Max’s attention and reminds him about what they’re supposed to be doing. He smiles in your direction again and turns to go back to his chair. A soft smile tugs at the corners of your mouth at Austin’s displeasure and while Max has his back in your direction, you quickly rest your hand along your boyfriend’s thigh and squeeze comfortingly. Austin’s hand covers yours, a quick motion as he readjusts himself in his chair, both of you back to normal when Max sits down again.

The questions continue seamlessly, that same back and forth action to talk about specific scenes, musical numbers, costumes, the whole nine. Towards the end though, Max kind of hesitates before another question comes out,

“So, Y/N, I just want to ask—we know your dad got sick in the middle of filming and I was just wondering what kind of effect that had on you as an actress and how that might have impacted how things were handled on set.”

You pause for a few reasons—for one, it is astounding to you that interviewers, no matter how unassuming they may be, can just presume they can ask really intimate and personal questions right at the drop of a hat. Luckily this isn’t live, so they can stop filming if need be, but also the fact that you don’t want to act like some sort of diva that randomly leaves interviews just because you don’t like the question. Secondly, you can feel Austin bristle beside you even though he doesn’t say anything, his face remains neutral other than a muscle in his jaw clenching, and you can see the sharp line of his shoulders where he was relaxed before.

He does not like the personal direction the question is in either.

“Uhm, well—” You trail off for a moment, trying to figure out how best to respond to this. While the question seems alright on the surface, it’s worded incredibly obtuse in a bunch of ways. It’s obvious having a sick dad had an effect on you as an actress, why does that need to be addressed?

Austin, sensing your discomfort, moves his hand to touch your wrist, “Hey maybe move on from that question man, that’s her dad—there’s other things you can ask her.” He’s already a bit riled up from before, so there’s an air to his voice that he’s putting his foot down, this is not a conversation.

You can feel yourself let out a slow breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, unable to find the exact words to either respond to the question or tell Max you couldn’t talk about it. Obviously your story ended up good, your dad is fine, on the road to recovery and getting stronger every day. But that doesn’t mean what happened is easy to talk about, or anyone’s business either. It’s out there, clearly, because Max felt comfortable enough to ask about it…but you really appreciate Austin jumping in like that.

Max at least has the decency to look embarrassed, nodding his head, “Of course, my apologies—we’ll cut that.”

Austin’s thumb runs back and forth along your wrist as they continue to film, a few more questions finishing up the interview.

He doesn’t remove his hand.

--

Once the interview is over and you’re in the back of an SUV, pulling out into traffic, you can feel the full force of frustration coming off of Austin’s body in waves. He’s rarely the type of person to get angry or irritated for long stretches of time, but clearly Max has gotten underneath his skin. You let him have a few moments to himself, looking over some texts from your mom about dinner. Eventually you reach over and settle your hand on his, running your thumb along his knuckles.

“I’m okay,” You want to assure him that you’ve definitely been through worse lines of questioning in your career but you’re pretty sure that’s not going to help. “Max was just overeager—I think interviewers start worrying that they’re gonna end up askin’ the same type of questions everyone else is, so some of them overreach.”

“He did not know when to quit; not to mention the amount of flirtin’ he was doin’ while fixin’ your mic,” Austin’s voice has this twang to it when he sometimes talks too fast, when he’s wound up, leftover voice impressions from Elvis.

You smile just a little, can’t quite help it, “You know…I consider jealousy a base emotion but it’s actually kinda hot coming from you.”

Austin turns his head to look at you, his eyebrows drawing together as his visibly struggles with his next words. A laugh bubbles in your throat, slipping out of your lips and instead of saying anything, he moves to grab onto you, tugging you across the center seat and against his chest. You’d attempt to move if you really wanted to, but you don’t, grinning as you tilt your chin back to look up at him.

“No one’s jealous here.”

You purse your lips, reaching to cup his cheek. Running your thumb down along his lower lip, you reply, “No of course not—not at all.”

He presses a kiss to the pad of your thumb, settling back into his seat. He’s relaxed a bit since you first got into the SUV, the harsh line gone from his shoulders, his eyes a calm blue instead of a restless sea.

“Just protective.” He mumbles and your stomach flutters at the warm sentiment. “Next time I’m tellin’ interviewers like Max exactly what’s on my mind.”

You laugh lightly before kissing him, stealing as much time as you can alone. Knowing how polite Austin is, you understand that probably won’t be the case, but the words mean just as much anyways.

--

Thank you so much for the request! I hope you liked it :) thanks to everyone who read, if you’d like to be added to a general Austin x reader masterlist, please let me know!

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler drabble #austin butler fic #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things

[bunnystalker]

revisit

this is the sfw alternative to "father's friend"! switched the story up a bit just bc i felt like the perverted nature of father's friend doesn't really align with how this one turns out. based on re5 wesker.

cw; fluff, mentioned sex, obsessed wesker, pet cameo, major age gap (14-17 years)

pet names; honey (wesker receives)

when albert wesker pictured his life, he saw greatness. he'd dreamt of sanitizing the world with uroboros, his pet project of years would finally come to fruition. the world would be the perfect place, full of the superior and cleansed of the lesser. his dreams realized.

what he didn't anticipate, however, was you.

you, who came into his life when he was 38 years old, fresh off the high of the mansion incident. mostly human, partially not. he'd changed his clothes- only black attire from that point forward- and kept a low profile because he should be dead, but he's not. with no body to find, they gave up on the search only months later. he'd slid under the radar with a new identity and relocated across the country to some small town on the east coast.

at the time, you were in your early twenties. maybe 24, 21 at the youngest. you were youthful and so sweet, painfully naive and lacking experience of life's true cruelties. without scars that held stories to be told, or nightmares that took hold of you in the night.

unmarked. untainted. flawless. you.

brilliant. a new assistant working for umbrella, right under him. you were always in uniform with a crisp appearance. you had no idea just what you were in for, working under this company with horrible intentions for the world. surely you knew, but in his mind, you were just as innocent as a stray pup.

you proved to be a quick learner, something he thought often about. if you'd had sex before. if you'd even kissed someone before. being your coworker and superior, asking those things would have gotten him fired, so he didn't. he watched and wondered, leaving him restless in the sheets at night. you'd only ever touched him once- a simple tap to his shoulder while he had been busy- and even then, you wore gloves. smart girl.

he dreamt of your touch more than he'd ever tell you. dreamt of your heavenly lips, your hair threaded between his fingers, your flesh on his. more than anything, he'd ached to be your one and only. your first choice. your everything.

he was obsessed in every sense of the word. he wanted to be so deeply intertwined with you in every sense of the word. you had no idea how he felt. you were intimidated by him, not to mention attracted to him. you wanted him, but you had no idea how much he wanted you.

he's shaken from his thoughts by your bare hand on his shoulder, your warmth seeping through the thin fabric of his pajamas.

"good morning, honey." you chime as you pass him in the kitchen to pour yourself a cup of coffee. with wonder, he watches you stir in a mass amount of creamer as well as sugar.

"you know, if you'd like to get an espresso machine, we can." he says from behind his own cup of pure black coffee.

you quirk a brow and lean against the granite countertop. "why would we do that?"

"i think you'd like a latte, rather than… that." he gestures at your cup of sugar and milk with a droplet or two of coffee.

you chuckle to yourself and kneel down as your cat trots into the kitchen, wanting to be part of the conversation. the fuzzy black cat, Uroboros, flops down on the cheap linoleum floors of your kitchen. it trills and captures your outstretched hand, gently nibbling your fingers.

"well, sure. i wouldn't mind." you look up at him and smile before giving your full attention to your pet. albert watches with admiration. his heart, once thought to be dead, skips a beat at the sight.

#bunnystalker ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ #bunny's blurbs✧˖ ° #albert wesker fluff #resident evil #albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #resident evil fanfiction #writing #albert wesker i love youuuu #albert wesker x you

[7-wonders]

Our Very Own Greek Tragedy (Pt. 1 of 2)

Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x Reader

Summary: You love Morpheus, and Morpheus loves you. You're the happiest that you've ever been in your life, and your love's intention to propose to you is just the icing on top of the cake.

Too bad you don't remember any of this when you wake up.

Or, yes this is based on that post that I made about Reader and Morpheus being in a relationship in the Dreaming but then you don't remember your dreams when you wake up.

Word Count: 5.9k

Notes: First off, a huge thank you to @writethrough for reading this over and editing it for me. I had spent so much time on it that none of it made sense anymore and I'm SO thankful to you for offering to help me out. Seriously, I cannot thank you enough.

This is part one of a two-shot! I want to say that now bc this is so angsty, and I don't want anybody to think that I'm leaving things as they are in this fic. There will be more, and it is being written. Don't worry.

Part Two of Two

The village that lies to the east of Dream’s palace is quaint and fairy tale-esque with the cottages lining a cobblestoned street, a small market, and the general whimsy that comes with places such as this. It’s a village that you take your time meandering through, saying hello to  every member of the dreamfolk that you come across (something they take great delight in), and  enjoying yourself and the gift of  lucidity in the Dreaming. Today, though, you’re nearly running through the village with  one mission in mind: making it to Fiddler’s Green as quickly as possible.

Morpheus had left a note for you tucked into the book you were reading in the library, instructing you to  meet him, and after not  seeing him for a few days, you’re almost desperate to find him now. You wonder what people would say if they knew that the brooding King of Dreams and Nightmares that’s forever dressed in all-black is a romantic at heart, but it also doesn’t matter what they would say–you love it.

Fiddler’s Green is just as beautiful as always with grass swaying gently in the breeze and all manner of plant and animal life inhabiting it. It’s as if every picturesque meadow has been rolled up into one, and standing under a tree taking in his masterpiece is your favorite work of art. Though he claims he doesn’t have a favorite area of the Dreaming, that he loves every part of his realm equally, you know that Dream of the Endless is especially fond of Fiddler’s Green.

“Morpheus!” He turns around when you call his name, even though you know he sensed you the moment you arrived here. Again–he’s the most romantic sap you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.

You feel almost ridiculous as you run towards him, like some left-behind lover whose soldier has returned from war. But that’s how Morpheus, and the act of loving him, makes you feel–like you’re living every great love affair and love story all wrapped into one. Even though it’s been mere days, you missed him. 

Morpheus is already waiting for you with arms open, and you throw yourself into his embrace hard enough to send you both onto the lush grass. Considering Morpheus is strong enough to not even move when you collide with him—having the preternatural strength all beings that should not exist have—you think he just enjoys the feeling of collapsing into an undignified heap with you. Somehow, even in the blur of a few seconds, he’s managed to maneuver your positions so you’re under him when it should most definitely be the other way around.

You certainly won’t complain about this.

As you stare up at Morpheus, his head haloed by the rays of the sun, you can’t help but think that he looks ethereal. He’s always unfairly beautiful–it comes with the territory of being Endless, of being unable to be fully contained in a regular human body. Still, looking upon him today feels almost too much to bear, like you’re staring straight into the sun instead of just seeing the edges of it. You would gladly burn your eyes beyond repair if this was the last thing you were to see.

“Hi.” You smile at him radiantly before leaning up and kissing him. Everything feels so heightened in the Dreaming, especially emotions. You can’t just be happy here. No, it’s happiness that feels incandescent. Not that you’re complaining, of course. 

His hand comes to cup your face, and you nuzzle your cheek into it. “Hello.”

There’s so much you want to say to him, but it all feels too overwhelming to even attempt to verbalize. Instead, you settle on, “I missed you.”

“As I have missed you.” The stars in his dark eyes sparkle with mirth. “You have not been sleeping properly.”

Your ears grow hot; you should have known better than to assume Morpheus wouldn’t bring this up. “I have a good reason though.”

He raises an eyebrow, daring you to try him. “Oh?”

“I’ve been busy?” 

Morpheus looks entirely unimpressed at this, but you had to try. 

“Listen, it’s hard for me to properly relax when I’m busy and I know that I have stuff that needs to get done!”

“You could have called upon me. I would have granted you rest.”

“Y’know, contrary to popular belief, I was able to take care of myself during rough patches prior to meeting you.”

“How you ever survived is beyond me,” he says dryly, a small chuckle forming deep in his chest when you smack at his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t ask you to leave your realm for something as stupid as me not falling asleep at a reasonable hour.”

“Nothing involving you is ever,” he makes a face because he hates cursing, finds it crude, but he’s trying to get a point across here, “‘stupid’.”

“It’s very sweet of you to offer,” you lean up in order to kiss him again, the urge becoming too strong to resist, “but I’m able to get through a couple of restless nights without you.”

The conversation comes to a stop as words are replaced with kisses. It’s only been a couple of days, but you both feel the need to reacquaint yourselves with the other’s body. Morpheus is extremely gifted with words, and that doesn’t stop when his mouth is otherwise occupied–when he touches you, he writes all the poetry he wishes to say along the surface of your skin. Long after the sensation of his fingers on your skin has faded, you’ll still feel, see, his declarations of love like an invisible tattoo.

Morpheus finally pulls his lips away from yours, making you whine as you chase after the kisses you’re being unjustly deprived of. He doesn’t move too far away, thankfully, and rests his forehead on yours.

“I believe I have a better solution to you not finding enough rest to visit me.”

“Yeah?” You’re intrigued now. “And what’s that?”

“You could simply stay here. With me.”

“While I would love nothing more than to spend both my day and my night with you, I have responsibilities that I have to, y’know, be responsible for. Besides, isn’t it you who always says that I ‘can’t live the entirety of my life in the Dreaming when the Waking is awaiting’?” You try to deepen your voice in an attempt to mock him, but it only serves to make a fond smile appear on his face.

“I have said that, but because you have always been a mere visitor to my realm.” He sits up, bringing you along with him, and holds both of your hands in his. “What if we made your residency here permanent?”

“What?” 

You know what he means, but it’s a little difficult for you to wrap your brain around. You’ve discussed subjects such as marriage before, but only ever in the abstract. Never has he been so clear with his wants as he is right now. 

“You want me to live here?” You were going to ask if he wants you to move in with him, but there’s a pretty big difference between moving into an apartment with someone and moving to the realm that one rules over. “With you?”

Morpheus nods. “You should be aware, though, that I am a selfish being. Were you to say yes to me, I would want it all.”

“And what is it that you want?” A smile plays at your lips, and you try desperately to hide it and act as cool and unbothered as he looks. It’s surely not working, but you at least feel like you’re holding your cards close to your chest in a situation where you’re about to burst.

“Is it really not obvious? My love, I want you. As my wife, as the queen of my realm, as my lover and best friend and companion. And in return, you would have it all as well. Everything that I have, everything that I am, would be yours—has been yours for a long time. I simply did not know it was you that I was waiting for.”

You put a hand over your mouth to hide the huge grin you’re now sporting. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

“No. When I formally ask you, it shall be an occasion befitting what you deserve for a proposal. Consider this…me speaking my intention to soon ask you for your hand.”

“Can I give you my answer now?” You can’t not tell him your answer–you think you’ll burst if you have to keep it to yourself.

“You may, but I will still ask you when the time comes.”

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes.” You kiss a different part of his face after every ‘yes’, finally kissing his lips. “I’ll marry you, and I’ll–I’ll be your queen. Whatever you want. You say you’re mine, but I’m just as wholly and completely yours. I always have been, and I always will be.”

Never have you seen Morpheus fully smile before. You consider yourself lucky to see his lips just barely quirk up in a fond smirk–sometimes he will have an actual smile, but it’s always barely there, and one needs to know what to look for when he does. Now, he grins at you, and you see why his smiles are so rare. If you thought his mere countenance rivaled the sun, his smile could put a damn supernova to shame.  

When you throw yourself at him for the second time, Dream has the foresight to transport both of you to his chambers in a whirlwind of sand before your passion fully envelops you; you and a very abashed Dream Lord have taken more than enough verbal scoldings from Gilbert, who has physically manifested into his human form to admonish you against coupling at Fiddler’s Green. (You’re still ashamed when you recall the time where he said, “I am happy for you both, truly, but I must beg of you to please keep your affections to a—I believe it is called PG-13 rating—while you are here.”)

It’s a good thing that he does, because it feels impossible to keep your hands off of each other as your surroundings melt away to nothing. All there is, all you need, is you and Morpheus and this moment. The world could be burning to ash around you and you wouldn’t care, so long as Morpheus was touching you the way that he is.

You used to never understand why books and other forms of media referred to sex as “making love”. It sounded ridiculous, in your opinion; sex is…sex. Something carnal and pleasurable. If anything, you thought it should be called “making pleasure” instead. But then you met Morpheus, and suddenly it all made sense. Sexual intimacy with him is just a physical manifestation of the love you share—a love so potent it bubbles over your ability to contain it.

And oh, does that love manifest most pleasurably when you’re in bed with the King of Dreams and Nightmares. It makes your head spin just how devoted Morpheus is to you. In all situations, really, but especially in this one. It’s his realm you’re in, and he’s the one that has been mistaken for a god or deity by more cultures than can be named. He’s more powerful than any god that has ever existed or will ever exist, and yet he worships you as if you’re the one who’s holy. He would lay himself bare at your altar as a willing sacrifice, and the realization leaves you breathless. (As well as the way he’s moving his hips–that leaves you breathless, too)

Later, you’re attempting to recover your brain cells as Morpheus has you in his embrace, listening to your breathing as it finally evens out

“Do you think you’ll ever come to visit me? In the Waking?”

It’s a conversation you’ve had many times before, with Morpheus’s answer always remaining the same: no. He’s explained to you that it’s not that he doesn’t want to see you, it’s that he’s not sure if there still remains a threat in the Waking. Though you’ll never say it to him, you think he’s avoiding his trauma instead of dealing with it head-on.

“Perhaps,” Morpheus says, “if Lucienne can find out what became of the Magdalene Grimoire and the Order of Ancient Mysteries.”

“I’d protect you, you know.”

“You would?”

“Mhm. I’m scrappy.” You hold your fists up to illustrate this.

Instead of fearing your fighting prowess, Morpheus grabs one of your fists and kisses each knuckle. “Yes, you look the part.”

“I get the feeling that you’re not taking me very seriously.”

“How ever did you gather such an impression?” He smirks as he says it, your cheeky love, before brushing his thumb over your ring finger. “I confess that I’m not very familiar with the concept of wedding rings, but I do look forward to creating one for you to wear.”

“Will you wear one, too? After all, if you get to let everyone know that I’m taken, I want the same for you.”

He tries to act unaffected by your words, but you’ve known and loved him long enough to see the faintest tinge of pink on his cheeks that lets you know you’ve gotten to him. You’re about to tease him when your vision tilts for a moment before becoming fuzzy around the edges, and you frown in disappointment when you realize the familiar feeling: you’re waking up.

Morpheus senses it too, holding onto you a bit tighter as if this can keep you tethered to his realm. Unfortunately, he’s given the advice about you not living your life in the Dreaming more than you could count. To not follow it would make him a hypocrite. More often lately, it seems as though he’s regretting those words–hence him voicing his intention to propose to you.

You laugh at the obvious displeasure on his face. “Better get on that proposal sooner rather than later, huh?”

Though he scowls, he refuses to let you leave without a kiss. “Until we meet again, darling mine,” he says, his words echoing as you’re pulled back to the Waking.

•••

Whoever invented alarms must have been a sadist; there’s no other reason for them to be so loud (certainly not to be loud enough to actually wake you up). You groan at the harsh sound that repeats over and over, refusing to open your eyes as you fumble a hand along your nightstand until you feel the glass surface of your phone. Hitting it harshly a couple of times, you finally manage to turn it off and bask in the sudden, blissful silence of your room.

As you yawn and rub at your eyes, slowly stretching your limbs and procrastinating actually getting up, you try to hold onto the fleeting fragments of your dreams before they’re gone for good. You’ve never remembered the things you dream about; it’s always random glimpses, if that. More often than not, the dream completely fades by the time you’ve gotten out of bed.

Though you can’t remember your dreams, you do know that, lately, they must be rather nice. With the way you’re consistently left with residual contentment and happiness, it’s impossible that you’ve dreamt about anything not completely and totally wonderful.

What you do remember, at least before you get out of bed, are certain feelings. Before consciousness invades and wipes the slate clean to prepare you for the day ahead, there’s flashes of what you might have dreamt of. The feeling of soft skin under your fingertips, or the way the sun shines on an unruly mop of black hair. Your head in someone’s lap, and the brush of lips against yours.

You really wish you could remember those dreams.

When enough time has passed that your second alarm goes off, you grab your phone this time instead of shutting the alarm off. Though it’s certainly not the healthiest morning routine, you’ve gotten into the habit of scrolling through your phone until you’re nearly rushing to make it out the door on time. With this self-awareness in mind, you unplug your phone from your charger and roll onto your other side to lazily scroll through your notifications and apps.

Instagram and Snapchat stories show that a surprising number of people you’re acquainted with go out on weeknights, which makes you a little envious of their stamina and fortitude. Twitter hasn’t sunk like the Titanic yet–you’re not sure if you’re happy or sad about this. The couple of TikToks your friends have sent make you exhale harshly through your nose in a lazy laugh, and you respond with the appropriate emojis. There’s a few matches on Tinder and Bumble you should probably respond to, but you’re not feeling very into them at the moment (they don’t have the dark hair, alabaster complexion, and starry eyes that you’re unknowingly looking for), so you ignore the messages for now.

Finally, when you can’t put off getting out of bed any longer, you throw the covers off of you and rush through the rest of your morning routine. Brushing your teeth, making your hair look some semblance of tamed, grabbing whatever clothes are sitting on top of the basket of clean laundry you still haven’t folded, snagging something quick for breakfast, and predictably, rushing out the door. Just another boring, mundane day in your boring, mundane life.

•••

Dream of the Endless stands across the street from a small coffee shop, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. He knows why he’s so nervous, of course. Though he can claim to his trusted emissary that he’s wary of any fringe members of Burgess’s cult, it’s actually because he’s seeing you for the first time in the Waking world. In your world. 

This would be so much easier in the Dreaming. In the Dreaming, he feels entirely at ease; after all, he is the Dreaming, and the Dreaming is him. But now, in a world in which he wants no part of, he feels entirely lost and out of his element.

For over 100 years, he had remained locked up in a glass prison underground. An entire century had passed by, one where he had no idea of anything that occurred in this world or any other. Fates’ sake, he hadn’t even been aware of the Second World War until he had escaped, what with Fawney Rig being too far away from any locations of significance to be hit during the Blitz, and Morpheus doing his best to tune out any of the drivel from the guards trying to pass the time.

Morpheus is still trying to get “up to speed,” so to say, in the current era. Something he is failing miserably at, if Matthew is to be believed. All of this to say, he’s regretting his spur-of-the-moment decision to visit (well, as spur-of-the-moment as a Dream Lord who is a stickler for rules can get), and he’s almost tempted to put this whole surprise to rest and wait until you arrive in the Dreaming later. It is a surprise, which means you have no idea he’s been planning this.

Those closest to him (read: Lucienne and Matthew, the only two with the balls to actually try in the first place) expressed their concern for this idea of his. After all, “Morpheus” and “surprise” are not two words that often go together. But Hob Gadling, his dear immortal human friend, had so liked it when Morpheus made an unexpected appearance that he was sure that surprise visits from those they care for must be something all humans enjoy. Besides, it’s not as if you haven’t specifically requested for him to come and see you in the Waking.

Though his mind is, and has been, made up, a certain raven holds a grudge and decides that, for once, he’s going to attempt to be the voice of reason instead of the voice of chaos. Looking up at him from where he stands on the ground next to Dream’s boot, Matthew says, “Look, I’m just saying! What if she’s not happy to see you?”

“While your concern is appreciated, Matthew, it is unwarranted. I can assure you that we last parted only because we were forced to.”

If Matthew could roll his eyes, Dream imagines that’s what he would be doing right now. “Yuck, got it. Please don’t continue with that. But, like, I thought we were chill the last time that I saw her! And then today you’ve got me running messages so I figured I’d stop and say hi, and she just ignores me when she sees me?” He scoffs in disbelief. “No, she didn’t just ignore me. She looked at me like I was a nuisance!”

“Perhaps she had you mistaken for another raven.” Morpheus’s lips twitch as he tries his hardest not to smirk at Matthew’s outrage.

“Yeah, one of the other talking ravens she knows.”

Up until now, Morpheus was unaware that such a small being could hold so much disgruntlement. It almost makes him relax. Almost.

But then he makes the mistake of seeking you out through the windows. When he finds you, the breath he doesn’t need catches in his throat.

His beloved. His soon-to-be betrothed. His future wife and queen.

You’re sitting at one of the tables against the large window, head down as you read without a care in the world. The hand not holding your book open is loosely wrapped around a paper cup sitting on the table. Late afternoon sun bathes you in warmth, and Morpheus is struck by the image you make. Oh, the beautiful dreams he could create with you as his muse (yes, he’s aware of the irony, seeing that he was married to an actual Muse (capitalized) at one time). Suddenly, Morpheus understands what you mean when you tell him he has such a ‘kingly air’ in the Dreaming. It’s because he’s in his element, somewhere he’s familiar with. Here, in the Waking, you look much the same.

Any thoughts of leaving and returning to the sanctity of his realm fled his mind the moment he saw you. Morpheus steps off of the curb to make it across the street, and it’s only Matthew’s panicked squawking and his jerking on his coat with his beak that keeps him from getting hit by a car. Right, traffic rules are much different now than they were before his imprisonment. For one, cars can go above 20 miles per hour.

“Try not to get yourself killed, lover boy.”

Morpheus glares at his raven, but finally nods once. “Stay here.”

This time, he steps onto the road after making sure there are no vehicles coming his way. 

A small bell chimes above him as he opens the door of the coffee shop. Morpheus supposes this shop is the same as all others, but he hasn’t had the opportunity to experience such novelties yet, so he takes a moment to appreciate the relaxing atmosphere and the aroma of coffee beans in the air. Though he doesn’t need human food or drink to survive, he can still appreciate such things.

Finally, finally, Morpheus approaches the table you’re seated at with his hands shoved deeply into his coat pockets. You don’t look up at him, too lost in your own world, and he takes a moment to admire you before he says, “Is this seat taken?”

When you look up at him, he’s expecting you to jump up and hug him, as you do almost every time you see him (though he’s never been especially fond of hugs, he’s learning to quite like them when they come from you). At the very least, he’s expecting you to grace him with the smile he adores so much.

What he’s not expecting is what he gets, which is the complete lack of recognition in your eyes and the small, awkward smile you give him. The type of smile reserved for strangers, or people one doesn’t very much like. A cold chill runs down his spine, and he tries to push away the dread that comes along with it.

“No, I guess not,” you say begrudgingly.

You’re simply teasing him, Morpheus attempts to reassure himself as he sits down across from you. In a couple of seconds you’ll break and laugh at him for getting so worried, and everything will be alright. Convinced of this, and determined to make you break sooner rather than later, he places his hands on the table, knowing how much you love to hold hands with him.

Morpheus realizes something is wrong when you jerk your own hands away from him, sliding them into your lap protectively. Your gaze becomes guarded, and he can see the way you straighten up to try and give off an aura that you are not to be trifled with. Scrappy indeed, he thinks dryly as he tries not to immediately panic.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” you ask.

Okay, now he’s panicking. Morpheus always knows when he’s being lied to, but especially when it’s a mortal lying to him. As he looks at you, he can sense none of that deception within you. You genuinely do not recognize him, and that hurts so much worse than if this were a joke taken too far.

You’re staring at him expectantly, and Morpheus realizes you’re still waiting for an answer from him. “I–” he stutters uncharacteristically, clearing his throat before trying again. “I…apologize. It appears I have mistaken you for someone else.”

The tension you held at the potential of someone seeking to do you harm melts from your body, and your smile returns. “Ah. Sorry I’m not that person.”

“No, the fault lies with me.” 

His voice is trembling, and he has to force the words out of him. This visit has gone so terribly wrong, and Morpheus needs to abscond before his emotions tear this building apart. So he stands, though it pains him to do so, and gives you a polite nod and a, “Good day to you,” before stumbling (well, stumbling as much as an Endless can) out of the coffee shop.

Matthew, who had been sitting on a bench down the street enjoying pieces of popcorn left behind, looks up at Dream in alarm when he sees the tears building in his eyes. That’s always been the one flaw of this human body–how easily tears come. At least this time, they’re warranted.

“Hey, Boss, what happened?” Matthew asks, abandoning his snack to land on Dream’s shoulder. “You didn’t…oh no, you broke up, didn’t you?”

He shakes his head. If only it were that simple. “No. She did not recognize me. I was a mere stranger, interrupting her day.”

“What? How is that even possible?”

“I do not know.”

He’s completely and utterly lost right now, and wouldn’t even mind his sister throwing a loaf of bread at him as she did the last time he felt this lost. If it would give him the same sense of clarity as that visit with dear sister Death had, then he would take it. But instead, he takes one last look at you, back to reading your book, before fleeing to sulk in the Dreaming and wonder how it all went wrong.

•••

The weird interaction you had earlier sticks with you as you get ready for bed. It had just been so odd, how sure this man was that you were whoever he assumed you to be. Though you felt bad for his obvious disappointment when he learned otherwise, you were glad to be rid of his presence after he briskly left the café. Sure, he was attractive (like, otherworldly, would-make-a-model-burst-into-jealous-tears attractive), but the intensity he carried with him…well, it scared you a little bit.

Apparently, though, it didn’t scare you enough to not think about him. There was just something about him that made him impossible to forget. You huff angrily, not wanting to think of the man with pitch black hair and starry blue eyes, but your brain seems to have other ideas as you try and fall asleep. No matter, because sleep thankfully comes quickly to you tonight, aided by a cup of tea that, while not your favorite, did give you the desired effect of actually falling asleep at a normal hour.

It’s when you find yourself in the Dreaming’s library, wondering if you’ll need to track Morpheus down today, when it hits you. The stranger at the café who you didn’t know at all was actually the love of your life…the love of your life that you didn’t recognize when he was standing right in front of you.

Why hadn’t you recognized him?

Your heart drops, and keeps falling, when you think about how upset Morpheus must be. This, in turn, makes you extremely upset as well. What the hell is going on right now? You need answers, and since you’re in the Dreaming, there’s only one person (well, two people, but that’s neither here nor there) that can give you some.

“Lucienne?” you call out, knowing she’ll appear sooner rather than later and that it’s no use to go looking for her.

Sure enough, she’s standing in front of you in a matter of seconds, wearing a purple overcoat and with her glasses perfectly polished. Seeing a friendly face such as hers would normally make you smile, but you’re too anxious right now to do such a thing.

“Where’s Morpheus right now?”

“His Lordship is in the throne room, conducting some research. May I–”

You’re already running out of the library before she can finish, calling out, “Thanks, Luc! Sorry!”

As you sprint along the hallways that you know as well as your own home now (but do you? would you remember them when you wake up?), you take note of the dreary weather outside and the rain rolling down the windows in fat beads. Morpheus once told you the realm’s weather was often dependent on his mood. If it was raining right now, then surely he’s upset. Worse, you’re the cause of it.

“Morpheus?” You seek him out the moment the heavy doors to the throne room open ahead of you. He’s sitting on his throne at the top of the long stairway, piles of books haphazardly scattered around him. He’s been crying, you can tell, which makes the tears you’ve been holding back spill forth. “Oh, Dream.”

Rather than take the stairs down to you, Morpheus simply magics himself in front of you as you cry at how heartbroken he looks. Wordlessly, he hugs you. If this weren’t such a dire situation, you’d be thrilled he took the initiative for once.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t–Why didn’t I recognize you? I’m sorry, I wasn’t doing that on purpose.”

“Do not apologize. Please, for you have nothing to apologize for,” he soothes.

“Yeah, I do.” You pull away from his hold to look at him. “I asked you to come and visit me, and you were nice enough to actually plan to surprise me, all for me to not even know you. You must have been crushed.”

“It was not your fault.” His eyes grow a bit distant as he thinks for a moment. “I should have known, actually. Matthew was very upset that you ignored him, and believed that you did not care for him any longer.”

That memory suddenly comes back to you, of a raven who landed in your path and refused to move no matter how harshly you shooed him away, and you groan. “Oh no! Great, now I have to apologize to him too.”

“There will be no apologizing for anything from you.” His tone of voice leaves no room for argument, so you simply nod. You’ll just slip Matthew a bagel when Morpheus isn’t paying attention.

“Why can I not remember you?”

“I confess that I do not know.” He reluctantly releases you from the warmth of his arms, only so he can hold his hand out to you. “Come.”

When you grab his hand, you feel the whooshing of sand around you before you find yourself with him in the library. Inexplicably, the books he had been reading are sitting on a table next to the plush reading chairs. You’ve long since learned not to question “how” or “why” when in the Dreaming.

“Lucienne has graciously offered her services in helping me discover why you cannot remember the Dreaming, and how we can remedy that,” he explains, taking a seat. You go to sit next to him, only for him to pull you into his lap instead. You should have known better than to sit away from your touch-starved Endless. “I have a couple of contacts in the Waking as well, who may be able to help should we not find answers here.”

You’re touched, but your natural reaction is to joke. “All this for little old me?”

“You will find that there is nothing that I would not do for you, beloved.”

It’s such a simple phrase, uttered quickly before Morpheus picks up the book he had been reading and begins to peruse again. Yet, coming from him, it sounds like the sweetest music, sweet enough to have your heart thumping against your rib cage. You know Morpheus can feel it, because he always does, so you tamp down the embarrassment and grab a book of your own.

If the evening wasn’t spent searching for why you can’t remember the Dreaming, this would be a pleasant way to pass the time with your lover. The rain has slowed from a torrential downpour to a regular rainstorm, making the library feel cozy and peaceful. It’s quiet, save for turning pages and the occasional note from you or Morpheus. Best of all, you get to simply be with Morpheus, with no expectations for either of you.

You almost forget the reason you’re here until your vision tilts familiarly and your body feels heavy. Sitting up, you grab onto Morpheus’s coat in a last-ditch effort to keep yourself in the Dreaming as panic consumes you.

“No, don’t make me wake up,” you plead, even though he can’t do anything about it. “Please, I don’t want to forget you again.”

“Shh,” he attempts to soothe. “It will all be alright. You will wake up with no memory of this, and go about your day, and when you come back to me, I will have found a way for you to remember your time here. I swear to you that I will find a way.”

He’s sincere in his promises, you know that, but none of it helps the animal terror that comes with knowing you’re going to forget. You try to voice this, but can only continue to repeat, “No, no, no, it’s–”

You shoot up in bed, one hand on your heaving chest as your eyes dart wildly around the room for some perceived threat. Once you become aware enough to realize it was simply a nightmare, you groan and rub the tear tracks (when did you start crying?) from your face. After so many nights of wonderful dreams, you forgot how terrible nightmares can be.

It’s times like these where you’re glad you don’t remember what it was about.

You’re tempted to go back to sleep so you can wake up again on a better note, but your alarm, that old enemy, chooses that moment to go off. Rolling your eyes, you huff before shutting it off and reluctantly getting out of bed to start your morning routine. Brushing your teeth, making your hair look some semblance of tamed, grabbing whatever clothes are sitting on top of the basket of clean laundry you still haven’t folded, snagging something quick for breakfast, and predictably, rushing out the door.

Just another boring, mundane day in your boring, mundane life.

•••

Tag list of those who asked to be tagged on the original post (let me know if you'd like to be tagged in Part Two!): @igotanidea @chocogoths @kiwistarfruit @crafygamerscrafts @aspenmushroom69

#morpheus #morpheus imagine #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless imagine #dream of the endless #dream of the endless x reader #the sandman imagine #the sandman

[cerseimikaelson]

HIII CERSEI GUESS WHOS BACK (YOUR FELLOW WOTG FAN) WITH MY THOUGHTS ON COTG:

It is such a funny book, my fav jokes being the 'shrek, fiona, donkey' joke and an underrated classic in my mind, the scene where percy is like "There was screaming, crying and running in circles, and that was ✨just me✨" when talking about blanche's story (its so brutally honest and funny in a vulnerable way, which I will expand later on with the vulnerable part of it). It had so many iconic moments

It was a very low stakes, slow plot. You can tell Rick wrote it for the experience of reading our fav characters again (adding on to the fact that rick was made to write it by disney as additional marketing for the show, you can tell the plot wasnt thought of much), and ive seen people get mad over it, id love to know what you think!

This is a bit of a touchy topic. I've seen the people on the internet calling percabeth abusive with the constant name calling and the physical ??violence?? ( i obviously dont agree, but thats another topic), but something I've observed that everything that anti percabeths pointed out was toned down in the book?? Another post confirms that the majority of seaweed brains in the book was from percys pov and not annabeth actually saying it (like when hes looking at her expression and saying things like 'she looked like she was trying to say,....') and also when it comes to physical 'violence' (it feels so wrong to say bc i cant find another word lolol), the only things i found while rereading were 'lightly pinched my arm' and 'nudged me with her toe' which is wayyyy more toned down than ricks usual 'swatting my arm' or 'punching me' or 'judoflipped me'

One thing I admire so much about this book is the way he's written the characters vulnerability. percys way more open when he talks about crying whereas in the books its brushed over a lot, which is something the lovely @demigods-posts pointed out. annabeth tearing up when sally compliments her on something small like a cupcake, grover scared of percy and annabeth leaving him, and ofc percy. i saw someone interpret the river god scene as a ptsd induced panic attack, and i admire how rick has written it with so much angst, but still kept it light for the tone of the books.

another thing i love is how the characters dont revolve around percy as a main character (which is probably something rick learned while writing the tv show). annabeth has hobbies of her own, she's in her dream school, she is a busy woman and good for her. grover regularly goes to camp, and has his own conflicts with his gf and stuff. sally and paul are on their own arc with the baby on the way.

the fluff needs a special mention. every moment is so cute and sweet, there are way too many instances, especially with grover and percy which there was a severe lack of in hoo. them turning to seven year olds, percy and annabeths daily night iris message routine, the domesticity of the jacksons family

As usual, I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions too, im so happy i get to talk about it with you :))

Heyyy friend, how are you? Thanks for the ask!

Since you mentioned her, I LOVED Blanche. Iris is one of my favourite goddesses, so it was great seeing her. And I loved watching a god actually be ignored by their teenage child for once instead of the other way around. Blanche being a propel rebel with the monochrome was golden. (also, pink hummingbirds? lol)

It is obvious there wasn't much in terms of an actual plot with real structure, but it was fun and light-hearted and it does set the foundation for something in the future. Not all quests need to be high stakes, all-hands-on-deck, the world is coming undone. I liked watching the trio have semi normal lives (meeting up for smoothies after school) instead of constantly being on hero mode.

I genuinely had no clue people were upset about Percabeth's interaction in this. But seriously, violence? Did those people forget Annabeth judo-flipped Percy in New Rome, or was it okay then because it was a grand romantic gesture? How is punching someone in the arm to tell them they are being an idiot (provided you don't turn them black and blue of course) abuse? Percy and Annabeth are in a relationship, obviously they are going to be tactile with each other. Not to mention, people often nudge each other in real life and nobody shouts abuse then. I am rambling now but honestly this is the first I've heard of this and I have opinions.

I know Rick wrote the PG version, but can we talk about Zeus literally objectifying Ganymede at brunch and nobody but Hera (and Percy silently) batting an eye? Honestly, I am not a hardcore Zeus hater (although he is an a**hole) but the way Rick writes him he has no redeeming qualities whatsoever. I officially volunteer to be Hera's divorce attorney.

I really liked the idea of Annabeth having a secret fan club and having dinner with Sally, Percy and Paul every night. That was excellent.

I am already brainstorming theories about what the third book is going to be. Does it matter that WOTG isn't even out yet? Absolutely not. I kind of want it to be about Athena because her interactions with Percy are always 10/10, but that probably won't happen.

Feel free to send me asks about your favourite gods and goddesses, any headcanons you may have or anything you wish to discuss about PJO. You can also find me on ao3!

#cerseimikaelson #percy jackson #percy jackson series #pjo fandom #the chalice of the gods #ask #greek mythology

[brokebonewritings]

can you do one where reader hasn’t ever dated anyone, or gone on a date and kissed anyone before bc of anxiety and being shy, and somehow you’re friends with matt and the gang (maybe from law school? idk) and foggy and karen keep telling you matt likes you but you don’t believe it until he tells you himself, and then you’re at a loss for how to proceed since you have 0 experience 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

My friend. Anything for you, especially since you’re my first request in a long time! So thank you so much! Hope you enjoy this little story 🤍

Sincerely, Anxiety.

Matt Murdock x reader

Tags/ Warning: Pure Cane Fluff

Word Count: 2.1K

Navigation | Masterlist

You sat quietly at the cafe booth you currently resided in. Waiting. Currently you’re waiting for your friends as they slowly filtered into the coffee shop. Karen joins you as she gets her coffee, the both of you catching up from the weekend. Foggy and Matt join 15 minutes later. 

The lot of you sit around the table and talk about the previous week. Cases you are all working on, your families, dates. Not that you have been on any date. Your social anxiety was far too bad to do any of that. 

“Okay, well we have to know.” Karen says. “Are you and Marci getting back together?” This was directed towards Foggy. His cheeks caught a tint of pink before he cleared his throat.

“I mean, I don’t know. It was just a date.” He replied.

You turn and give Karen a side eyed look before smiling. “So is there another date?” 

“You guys suck you know that?” Foggy mutters. “Yeah, we’re planning a second date.”

Matt lets out a small chuckle next to you, as you shake your head and take a sip of coffee. You stare at the way his eyes crinkle out of the side of his glasses. It makes your stomach fill with butterflies. Focusing on your cup a little too intensely, you realize Foggy had been calling your name after a few minutes.

“Huh?” You look up from the cup “What happened?”

“Karen asked how your date went?” Foggy replied. Out of the corner of your eye you see Matt tense a bit. Karen noticed as well as Foggy. You sat in silence for a moment.

“I didn’t go.” You said quietly.

“What?” Matt said abruptly. 

“Yeah, what?” Karen cleared her throat, in confusion.

“I just,” You start, rubbing the back of your neck. “I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I knew it would turn out bad.”

Now it was Foggy and Karen’s turn to look at each other in a knowing way. The dating conversation was dropped and everyone continued to finish their coffee. Once you are all determined to be done for the day you all part ways.

It was nice to see your friends almost daily. It helped that you all worked closely together. Karen, Matt and Foggy shared an office, and you worked right up the street in a PI office. 

What wasn’t nice was torturing yourself by seeing Matt almost daily. Your hands were always clammy when you were near him. Heart beating slightly faster whenever you accidentally brush your hands. You really had it bad for Matt, and could you blame yourself? Yes, you always did blame yourself.

You and Karen walk through Central Park on a leisurely stroll. It wasn’t too often that the both of you got to hang out, so when it did happen it was nice. You both giggle as you make fun of Foggy and Matt the previous night at Josies. They had been arguing over what had happened on a particular night in college.

“What a great day for a picnic! This was a great idea!.” Karen exclaimed. 

“Right? I’m glad you were able to come.” You smile warmly at her. “Especially without the boys.”

Stopping on the top of a small hill, you both begin setting up for your little lunch. It really was a nice day out. It was cloudy and the park wasn’t packed for once. The small basket was quaint, but nothing too fancy.

“You said you needed to talk to me about something?” You asked after a moment. The both of you continue setting out small plates and cups. She looks up for a moment, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear before clearing her throat.

“Right…” She starts. “It’s about the other day at the coffee shop. Foggy and I noticed that Matt looked surprised when I mentioned the date.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah. Did you tell him about the date?” She asks curiously. No. The answer was that simple. You didn’t know how to speak to Matt like a regular person. A big part of that was because you liked him. Another part was that you were too shy around him, and why would he be interested in someone that can’t even speak up at a bar.

“I didn’t think he would react the way he did.” You finally respond. Karen’s lips flattened, obviously she disapproved of your answer. You decide to ignore the look on her face as you pour the both of you a cup of lemonade.

“You know he likes you right?” Her comment makes you spill a little juice on the blanket. “Wait… did you not know?”

“Did I not know?!” You choke out. The reaction coming out of you was actually laughable. Honestly, how could you have known. The man likes to keep secrets, you knew he was good at it too. “He can’t possibly like me. I’m definitely not his type.”

“He’s got it bad for you, y/n.” She says. “Maybe you should just shoot your shot.”

“I don’t think he does though.” You admit quietly. “Even if he did the what if he rejects me?”

“He won’t.” She takes the small sandwiches out of the basket before putting one on a plate for you. “He talks about you constantly, and you know he doesn’t date anyone?”

“He doesn’t?” You take the plate and hand her a small bowl of salad in return. “Not even his infamous one night stands?”

Karen shakes her head and knits her eyebrows together. “He hasn’t spoke about that in a long time actually. Point is, he’s confided in Foggy about being smitten by you.”

The red tint on your cheeks didn’t hide the fact that you felt the same way. You very much were smitten by him too. However there was one thing that was holding you back. Your anxiety. How could possibly tell Matt that you felt the same way.

“Wait, why are you telling me this?” You ask, and she snorts in response.

“Are you kidding me? Foggy and I are kind of tired of the both of you dancing around each other.”

“You mean to tell me, that Mr. Confidence is anxious about telling me he likes me?”

She nods in response as she eats her salad. You focus on your own food for a moment before speaking up.

“I’ve actually never been on a date before.” You begin. “And I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

Karen’s head flies up as she stares at you with wide eyes. “No way!”

You blush and nod. It really was never your fault. Your people skills in High School were very limited. Even after you entered college they were limited. Working as a private investigator helped a little but not a lot.

“I don’t even know where to begin in asking someone out.” You admit.

She considers the statement for a moment. “Then maybe we should come up with a plan.”

The smirk on her face says it all. For the rest of the picnic the both of you devise a scheme to tell Matt how you feel and a way to ask him on a proper date.

The week had come and gone in a flash. You all gather at Josies for your Friday night rituals. Same Table, Same Drinks, and Same People. Karen quickly takes a seat next to Foggy, which leaves you to sit next to Matt. You set your drink down before sliding into the chair. Matt looks over and smiles at you.

“Hey.” He says softly.

“Hi Matt.” You reply in the same tone. A blush slowly rises from your neck. The smile he gives you makes the butterflies that were in your stomach migrate to your chest. The warmth of his body sitting next to yours was comforting.

Throughout the night, everyone laughed and drank the woes of the work week away. Liquid confidence crawls through your vein, and once you have gotten enough of it you look at Karen and nod at her.

“Oh hey Matt! Y/n had something at their apartment for you!” Karen says abruptly changing the current topic. He raises an eyebrow before turning to face you.

“What would that be?” He asks curiously.

“Oh. Well, just a late Easter gift.” You stutter. “You’re still catholic right?”

Matt lets out a loud laugh which makes you smile. ‘Take a breath’ you tell yourself.

“Yeah, I guess I am still Catholic.” He replies. “Why don’t we go now. It’s getting a bit late.”

You nod, and give Karen and Foggy a smile. Of course in good Nelson manner, the other man gives you a thumbs up. Karen winks and mouths a quick ‘Good Luck’ before you and Matt stand and make your way out of the bar.

It's crisp outside. Not enough to need a jacket, but you could tell that summer was quickly turning into autumn. You both walk mostly in silence, besides the little jokes you both made to each other. It was crazy to think that the pining was mutual between you two. Outsiders could look and think you were already in a comfortable relationship. 

Once you arrive at your apartment, you open the door and allow the both of you to enter. Setting your stuff on your counter, you offer Matt a glass of water. Happily he takes it and sit at your kitchen table.

“Wait right here a moment.” You say before disappearing into your room. Closing the door behind yourself, you lean against and take a big breath. Like you had been holding it in for ages.

You walk over to your small desk and retrieve the gift you had actually bought the day before. It was a small little box with a letter inside. Written in braille of course. Underneath the letter was a ticket to a candlelight orchestra.

Taking another deep breath, you step out from your room and head straight for Matt. He is waiting patiently in the same place he was before.

“Happy Easter, Matty.” You say quietly before handing him the small box. He grins as he takes it, opening it slowly.

His fingers gracefully take the letter out of the box before he sets it on the table.

“Braille?” He cocks an eyebrow. You nod.

“I wrote it myself.” A small smile forms on your face. Turns out learning how to read braille was hard. You had started it as a hobby a few years prior, and it finally came in handy.

Setting the paper on the table. His fingers glide over the page. You can see the smile growing on his face. Once he finishes reading your note, he turns his head in your direction. Anticipating his answer you forget to breathe.

“You like me?” He says shakily.

“Yeah, Matt. I really do.” You say with the rest of your breath.

His hand stretches out towards you and you grab his in return. You were shaking from the anxiety building up. He chuckles lightly when he feels the small tremors.

“And you want to go on a date with me?” You nod after his question.

“Only if you want to.” You let out.

“Of course I want to.” He says. “I’ve wanted to for a long time.”

“You did?” The realization was settling on your face. Karen had been telling the truth after all.

“Yeah and you know what Karen told me?” 

“Hm?

“That you have never been on a date.” He grins. “And never been kissed.”

You were going to kill her. That’s on you though, she was the reason you were asking Matt out anyways. Your cheeks burned bright red as you stared at him.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Matt Murdock.”

“Me? Or will it be your anxiety?” He quips.

“Touche.”

The night went on until the sun came up. It was the longest conversation you had ever mustered the courage to have with him. Nothing was awkward about it either. It was like you both had been friends forever, which was somewhat true. Maybe this was the start of a huge stepping stone in your life. 

Matt didn’t seem to be bothered by your anxiety anyways. He always knew how to get around the minefields in your head. That's what drew you to him to begin with. Hopefully the first date would turn into more. You could only hope.

Secretly you thanked Karen for the way she helped you ask Matt out. Maybe all you needed was that one simple push. When he finally decided to go home, he wouldn’t let go of your hand. It was like he had become attached to you.

“I promise I’ll call you later.” He says

“Or maybe we can get some coffee once you do wake up?” You suggested.

“It’s date then.”

“Okay fine. It’s a date.” You say with a smile pushing him out your door.

#request #fic request #marvel #matthew murdock #matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #getting together #fanfiction #fanfiction writer

[straykidsmoonlight]

SKZ react- how and when they met their partners

A\n: included a few extra fun facts bcs it’s a Friday and I’m feeling nice. Love you all and hope you have a great day 💕.Tiny trigger warning for mention of inf3rtility in Han’s.

Please comment your bias guys it’s for part of a new post!!

Chan:

You guys met when Chan had his 27th Birthday party, he saw you form across the room and couldn’t stop himself from approaching you

You guys got married three years later

You had your first kid around a year after your wedding

Lee know:

You guys met when he was about to go on stage. He was standing on one side of the stage and you were on the other… he held up the entire performance by going to find you and get your number before he performed

You guys never married… Lino never felt the need because just like his cats, he kind of just of just adopted you and decided to keep you ..definitely walks up to you daily and just goes mine >:(

You guys had a kid first out of all the members, Byeol was a huge “surprise” just like I.N’s twins. I would say Lee know was quite young, having just finished military service

Changbin:

Met you at a barbecue restaurant and was SO impressed by how much you could eat (you had a big appetite that day I guess 💀) just knew he had to get your number

You guys married four years after you met… his proposal was the cutest

You had your first kid literally nine months later

Hyunjin

Aw our romantic boy… he saw you when he was in an art gallery.. you were just staring at this piece of art and he could not physically believe how beautiful this person in front of him was… you guys just stood and spoke for hours

You guys married just over two years later in the most beautiful wedding in all of Korea

You had Cheon- Sa around three years later after wanting to have time to yourselves (unlike jeongin and his wife💀)

Han:

The second Han saw you his face dropped into shock. He couldn’t believe he was seeing his best friend he met in Malaysia again. Literally ran up to you and tackled you into a hug… the rest is history

Han proposed around five months after you guys met.. not wanting to wait to start his life with you

You guys had a baby around five years later, after trying for a long time.

Felix:

Was back home in Aussie land when he saw a beautiful figure laying in the sand of bondi beach… approached you and you guys just sat for hours watching the sun fade over the waves, talking about everything

He proposed to you in the same place you met on your second anniversary of meeting

Had a Milo around a year and half after your wedding

Seungmin:

Met you at the JYP annual party… absolutely loved your whole character and approached you

You guys married four and a half years later…. Wanting time to just live and travel (imagine on this coming soon)

You had you twins three years later… when you were both 100% sure its what you wanted

Jeongin:

You guys knew each other for ages before you started dating… you knew you were just bound to fall for each other but there was always something in the way.

He proposed around two months after your first date…( I wonder why…)

You were two months pregnant when you guys got married, meaning the twins were born seven months later ( fun fact…his wife has been pregnant at every one of his members weddings😭)

I’m also now writing personalised stories for small tips… unemployment is real in my country… please message or ask (anons more than welcome) for more info!

#dad stray kids #dad!skz #requests open #skz felix #skz imagines #skz jeongin #skz x reader #stray kids as dads #straykids #stray kids stay #felix #straykidsasparents #seungin #hyunlix #stay #stray kids imagines #domestic stray kids #stray kids reactions #straykidsy/n #hyunjin imagines #felix imagines #chan imagines #bang chan #lee know imagines #minsung #yang jeongin #stray kids lino #stray kids husband #stray kids as husbands #stray kids everywhere all around the world

[indouloureux]

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 (part two)

summary: she sought for validation; he sought for acceptance. two juveniles who believed they’d spend the rest of their lives playing red guitars and borrowed claviers, (along with the trepidation of isolation), meet in one boring afternoon, and find themselves reveling in caterwaul voices, laying in a field of colossal grass, and writing lyrics with botched ballpens and crumpled papers.

— or: two people bond over emotional trauma, and fall in love through great manifestos

warnings: 1hr reading time, slow burn, friends to lovers, slight teenage angst, jealousy, tooth-rotting fluff, eddie being a sap, weird manifestos, reader being adopted, eddie and reader both having a self discovery whilst falling in love, fem!reader (she/her pronouns), me not knowing how to write both piano and guitar playing properly, deep words (sorry guys open google), lengthy, idiots in love, a love story about two sad teens going through a phase (jk) eddie has a bit of a corruption thing (not kink) bc he introduces reader into new things lol!

explicit warnings (for part two): virgin!reader, virgin!eddie; piv, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), creampie, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, overstimulation, first time, soft, vanilla porn, mentions of blood, handjob, cum eating, biting, marking, missionary, maybe soft!dom eddie bc he watched porn a lot and thinks he "knows his way", sweet but short aftercare

a/n: this is a story of fiction. i do not know the locations in both indiana and illinois. this is written in the way i prefer it to be to fit its story telling, and i am well aware of the things i write in here, and how i write this story. based on the song '1979' by the smashing pumpkins. hope you all enjoy part two!

PART ONE; SERIES MASTERLIST

That we don't even care

To shake these zipper blues

And we don't know

Just where our bones will rest

When you were young, you remember sneaking out of your room from the orphanage to sneak into the living room and watch the television with a low volume, loud enough for you to hear so as to not disturb the Nuns asleep in their rooms.

You thought falling in love was exchanged between lingering stares, a ring of hope and yearning in their eyes; sharing gospels about yourselves that you’d never tell anyone else, compliments coming from Freudian slips. The ‘will they, won’t they,’ the supportive friends. And months, maybe years, of mutual pinings until they end up confessing beneath the rain in the middle of the road as if there’d been no cars passing by. Yelling through the thunderous storm their words of utter devotion and kiss like their lives depended on it.

For years, before you’d been adopted, you watched the same scenario of love stories on a small screen for hours until your eyes ran dry. Boy and girl meet, one fell first and the other fell harder, an almost confession, an almost kiss, a secret that could ruin their relationship and it almost did, a confession spat in a dangerous situation right before everything went to shit, and then they lived happily ever after. 

The same one every movie.

But they never really expressed how falling in love truly felt. They just showed it. 

Your mother, adoptive mother, had once said that you’d feel this electricity inside you. That sparks fly when you see their smile, or just see them in general. That you’ll feel a thousand butterflies consume you until you feel like you’re floating in the clouds with their hand in yours as you fly into eternity together. 

That everything else falls apart and it’s just the two of you. Heartbeats heard in your ears as you get lost in this abyss of abiding love. Or a spotlight would compel you to look at him like a sacred artifact in a museum. That you’ll find yourself wanting to be closer to them no matter how dangerous it has been—like moth to a flame.

Eleven year old you had stared at her with a look that told her you understood. And you did. Kind of. A young mind like yours couldn’t fully understand that feeling. 

So you waited.

Up until Eddie Munson came to your life.

Eddie Munson, who’s been hiding something from you the past couple of weeks.

Every time you were together, whether it had been for school purposes, songwriting, or just for the hell of it, he’d be stuck in this small mental corner with his front facing you, the back of his notebook keeping a somewhat barrier to hide whatever he was doing. And whenever you asked, he’d stop writing, tap your nose with the tip of his pen, and say

“A satanic ritual.”

Then he’d go back into writing. 

Your curiosity would sometimes almost get the best of you; debating if you should take a quick peek when Eddie leaves the notebook with you (closed) and excuses himself to the bathroom. But it was an invasion of privacy. 

And he’s doing it right now.

Walking through the somewhat crowded hallway, you’ve got a hand clutching the sleeve of his unbuttoned black plaid shirt, just right on his elbow as he writes while walking. Just like you’d been all those months ago.

His tongue darts out, his feet stumbling across his own, muttering short apologies to the people he accidentally bumps too. But he lets you guide him through your small tugs. 

“Christ, Eddie!” you push him away when one of the students comes running in with their projects, almost smacking him against the locker. “Put that down!”

Eddie laughs a bit before he finally snaps it shut, shoving his pen in his pocket. You drop your hand from his elbow. “Sorry, Mands.”

“You’re gonna trip,” you avoid the judgemental stares. Of gossiping kids speaking behind locker doors; you focus on Eddie. “And honestly, if you did, I’ll just make fun of you and pretend you don’t exist.”

“You wound me, pretty girl,” he slaps his hand to his heart, a sardonic pout coming with. But the pout is gone sooner when he realizes what he’d just said, and he clears his throat. “You gonna sit with us at lunch, or you’re still sticking with Wheeler and her friend?”

“They’re revising for the school paper,” you fiddle with the clasp of your bag. “So, uh, maybe I can sit with you if that’s alright?”

“It’s more than alright,” he smiles. Eddie’s palm slams on the cafeteria doors and pushes it open, letting you in first before he follows, letting the door swing until it hinders and settles closed. He scratches his jaw, looking up at the ceiling. “But, uh, you gotta sit beside me. Or else you’ll be stuck between a sticky mess of Sour Patch Kids and, well, kids.”

You walk between the chairs from his table and the one beside him. Eddie takes an empty chair beside Dustin, dragging it beside him at the head of the table and pulls it out for you to sit on. You smile at him, sitting down.

“Oh, hey, (y/n),” Dustin smiles, braces a different color this week that leaves you endeared. “Hey, Eddie.”

Mike chews on his pudding pie. The same brand as Nancy’s, and he’s got a confused frown on his face that’s almost mistaken as repulsion had you not known him. “What are you doing here?”

“Eddie has stained my reputation. I’m a pariah now.”

“Hey,” Eddie laughs, pulling his ball pen out of his pocket. “I could embarrass you right now,”

“I’m always embarrassed. For you, at least,” you jest. 

Gareth opens his small lunchbox, his name written on the side in capital letters. “You ready for tonight?” he asks Eddie.

You whip your head back at the boy beside you, sleeves rolled above his elbows, which reminds you of the one he posited just on your arm. If people didn’t look at you for walking around unabashed beside Eddie Munson, they were looking at the tattoo on your arm. It had caught Principal Higgins’ attention, and you saw him visibly parley to himself if he should punish you for it. 

But then his eyes flitted to Eddie and he sighed, sauntering back to his office with a shake of his head and muttering something about blemishing the temple of God with your tattoos. 

“Been practicing our asses off for the past few weeks. ‘Course I’m fucking ready,” Eddie scoffs. Then he lifts his head off the notebook and looks at you. “You’re coming, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you smile softly. 

He returns the same smile with the same fondness, his eyes twinkling in appreciation. The hand on his lap comes up to twirl his pinky around yours, dimples deepening in glee. You feel your heart pound at the small touch; see how everything behind him blurs. And you flutter your lashes. 

Dustin clears his throat that breaks your eye contact. Eddie shoots him an almost murderous glare, unhooking his finger from yours. 

-

The Hideout was dark. With stone walls and chipped wooden tables. The bartender looked like he was nearing his fifties, but looked approachable and kind when he’d greeted you with a rag in his hand as he wiped the glasses when you stepped inside. The lights were dim but bright above the small stage with band equipment—where you saw Gareth’s Corroded Coffin drums. 

Eddie had been over exaggerating when he said he had a crowd of five drunks. But they’re not exactly many either. There were people scattered around, preoccupied in conversations you don’t, and couldn’t be bothered to know. 

You nervously tug on your dress. A deep shade of red that’s almost black to match him. You walk between tables and old men, sitting on the table second to the front, giving you a clear view of the stage.

Earlier, you’d told Eddie you’d meet him there before he dropped you off at your home despite his protests. He told you to wear something pretty—simple, but pretty. Something that’s you, in his words.

Waiting patiently, you hear the soft clinkings of glass against bottles of alcohol at the bar, the quite boastful laughter of the men in the corner. Your knee bounces, hands clasped in front of you as you trace the rigid strikes of Corroded Coffin’s band poster, and startle yourself when a looming presence hovers over you, casting a shadow over the light.

You yelp, looking up to see a man. His hair gray as his hairline recedes, exposing his forehead. He had a nose that looked a bit like Eddie’s, and his blue eyes shimmer in curiosity as they settle on you; his stare is anything but creepy.

“Are you…Mandy?” he says gruffly, a lilt of uncertainty in his voice, and he sounds as nervous as you are.

“No. I’m (y/n)...” you furrow your eyebrows. “Oh, shit. Are you Eddie’s uncle?”

His hands rub the back panel of his hat, nodding. “Yes ma’am. Wayne Munson. D’you mind if I sit?”

“Not at all,” you gesture to the chair beside you. Wayne pulls the chair out, moves it a bit more to the side to give you an appropriate distance so he wouldn’t make you feel uncomfortable, and he sits down with a grunt. “S-sorry for cursing. I’m Eddie’s friend—”

He says your name. “I know. He can’t stop talking about you,” he chuckles lightly. “I finally get to meet the girl that makes my nephew wake up before his alarm clock.”

“That’s me,” you twiddle your thumbs. “Um, Eddie told me you worked at night.”

Wayne understands what you mean, placing his cap on his lap and rubbing his hand on his knee. “I do. But it’s a holiday and I couldn’t pass on the opportunity to see him play.” he scratches his silver beard. “Do you drink? I could order us some.”

“I’m eighteen, Mr. Munson” you tell him. “I can’t drink yet.”

“Coke it is,” he hollers for a waiter, a man a bit younger than the bartender. He orders a pale ale and two cans of coke before he takes out his pack of cigarettes when the waiter leaves. You notice how he’s got a small lighter wedged to the side of his cigarettes like Eddie’s, and you wonder if he’d caught it from his uncle. “You smoke?”

You look around cautiously when he sticks one in his mouth. “Will they let me?”

“You ain’t gonna go to jail for it,” his eyebrows raise. “I’m not pressuring you, kid. I’m just offering,”

Finally, in an impassive shrug, you take one and you place it in your mouth. When Wayne lights up his own, he offers you his lighter. “Thank you, Mr. Munson,”

You sit in silence for a short beat, the smoke of your cigars mixing in the weak waft of the ac. He wasn’t as menacing as you expected, and you didn’t know why you expected it in the first place. Based on Eddie’s stories, Wayne had never questioned his love for his fantasy game, or complained about his love for metal. He’d been the first person to accept Eddie for who he is, the only family in his life that stayed and cared. 

“You know, I-uh-I’d like to thank you,” he turns to you. “You never judged my nephew for who he was. You made him happier and, hell, I haven’t seen him this happy in years. He’s always hogging up the phone talking and laughing with you. I’m not there for him as much as I used to; and I’m glad you gave him back his smile,”

Flushing, you look away and hide your parlously proud smile behind the borrowed cigarette, stained by your fuliginous lipstick. “Nothing to thank me for, Mr. Munson. Glad I could make him happy.”

“Ah, please,” he waves his hand, cigarette in the air. “Call me Wayne. Makes me feel old.” then he waves around his face. “I know my- hair says otherwise. But I’m still in my forties.”

“Copy that,” you take a quick hit. “Wayne.”

Wayne nods his head in acknowledgement, a guttural grunt leaving him. “My nephew hasn’t been this happy in a while. Eddie tends to… hide his emotions. Likes to distract himself with that god-deafening music and his fantasy game. And since you came to his life,” his arm lifts, as if to give your shoulder a pat before he clenches it to a fist and puts it back on his lap.

You chuckle. “You can pat me, Mr. Muns- Wayne.”

“You sure?”

“It’s just a shoulder pat, sir,”

Balky, his hand comes up to clap at your shoulder, shaking it lightly. You smile, placing the cigarette back in your lips and sucking until you couldn’t breathe, and let it all out.

“You helped him… (y/n),” he swallows. “And I thank you for that.”

When your drinks come, footsteps advance the stage. First came Gareth who settled behind the drums, who saw you immediately and gave you an ebullient wave, then Jeff and the other guy who’s name you’ve (sadly) forgotten.

Then Eddie came just when you opened your can. The fizzle of soda coalesce with his eager footsteps. Your hand stops around the ring, eyes trailing up to Eddie’s face.

You try to bite back a gasp.

There’s dark eyeliner beneath his eyes that names him hellaciously unique; the liquid kohl renders his eyes wider—his umber eyes darker, almost voluminously black, although fulgurated with the dim lights and his buzzing excitement. His vogue is eccentric, almost a masquerade that fools, had you not known him. But it’s so him, and at the same time, it isn’t.

But Eddie looks unashamed and proud of his look of ripped sleeves and borrowed eyeliner, his hair asininely wild, curlier like he’d gotten himself a perm. He’s wearing black jeans with more tears, his Dio vest that accentuates his lanky arms, the pudge of his stomach seen through his shirt but he wears it proudly; happy trail peeking underneath when he lifts his hand to pull on the mic.

He taps on the silver mesh head of the mic. Eddie clears his throat. “Uh, hello?”

You see everyone turn their heads, unamused, but forcing themselves to acknowledge his presence. Eddie smiles nervously, before his eyes settle on you and Wayne. 

“Good evening gentlemen and lady,” he winks at you. “Uh, yeah, thanks for being here tonight. It means so much to the owner who’s been working his ass off so, give him a round of— ah, screw it no one’s listening,” Eddie tuts with a ridiculous smile, eyes meeting yours in a short apology. He’s not upset, but he finds it amusing. “This first song is, um, Breaking the Law by Judas Priest. Hope you guys enjoy it and if it gets too loud, I suggest you cover your ears.”

He picks up his red Warlock NJ guitar (Sweetheart, he names her) resting on the amplifier beside Gareth’s guitar, slinging it around himself before he pulls on the vermillion pick on his neck. Eddie settles himself up front, lips hovering over the mic. Then he looks back at Gareth, who throws one of the dumstricks into the air but fails to catch it and falls to the ground with an awkward cattle. 

Beside you, Wayne smiles at the inconvenience, but doesn’t elicit a laugh out of him. Gareth shoots the both of you a penitent smile, picking up the stick. He taps it together three times to signal preparation, before you’re startled with his sudden slam on the snare.

You’ve never really seen Eddie play the electric guitar. Well, you have. You’ve just unfortunately forgotten the first time you actually did. And you wonder if thirteen year old Eddie was just as great as twenty year old him, playing the guitar with such precision; he was, indeed, a virtuoso with guitars—electric or not. 

The sight holds you ransom. Eddie, with his hair unruly, an unforgiving proud smile on his face when he darts his tongue out to glide his dexterous fingers across the bronze strings of Sweetheart, his voice a caterwaul as he recites the almost innocuous lyrics. 

“Feel as though nobody cares if I live or die.”

But his eyes were passionate—not of the barely there crowd, but it was obvious he loves what he’s doing. Especially now that you’re here, witnessing this for the first time with his beloved uncle. In that small stage, it stymies all judgment of conservative people, and he lets himself relish in the freedom of doing what he desires. 

A gloss of pursuit sybaritism coats his eyes; with a white ring of sheer wanton hedonism just above his dark irises. The rest of the boys mimic the same passion, arms kinetic at their own playing, noses scrunched in glee. 

Eddie doesn’t look like an angel tonight. When the lights shine horns on top of his head—the cardinal hue of serpentine antlers usurps the halo over his head. He’s devilishly handsome, wickedly catching your eye through the palls of branded cigarettes that spread across the room. 

Beside you, Wayne claps and whistles, showing his everloving support. Eddie smiles brightly, leaning back when he does a riff you’re certain you’ll struggle studying it. When the song ends, scattered claps gift him. Few, but loud to show their support. 

He’s sweaty all of a sudden, and he runs his hand through his dampened hair, wiping the sweat off his forehead. “Thanks. Thank you- hey, man, you owe me a beer,” he points at the guy sitting in the corner, who raises his bottle and tips his hat. You don’t know him. “This next song is dedicated to this lovely lady up front,”

You feel eyes on you. Suddenly, you want to sink into your chair just to avoid the unwanted eyes, and you tell yourself to forgive Eddie for making you off-guard. But the strangers give you either confused eyes, or looks that say they could care less.  But Wayne claps, which makes you hide your flustered smile behind the coca-cola can that you drink from.

“It’s Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic by The Police. I know it’s unusual for us to play something that’s not metal, but I practiced this song just for her. A…token of gratitude. And also for my uncle,” he adjusts his mic. “Um. Hope you guys enjoy,” 

You appreciate the fact that he’d practiced a song from one of your favorite bands just for you, despite it being out of his taste. You clap, a silly smile on your face that hurts your cheeks.

He strums, benign in all his dexterity, and shoots you a cheeky wink. You playfully grimace at his action, and you fail to miss the laugh Wayne lets out at the wordless banter. 

You gently sway to the indie music, see the way his rings glide across his nylon strings, how the bones of his fingers move through his skin when he plucks, mouth pressing up to the mic to sing clemently. You copy his nods, your own fingers tapping on the tin of your can.

The only thing the song lacked was the piano; you, basically. Eddie started playing with his eyes on you, and suddenly you remember being eight years old in the dark living room of the orphanage you stayed in. Except you hadn’t been the one watching — this time, you’re in the screen of that small box, finally feeling what it’s like to stare at someone so completely enamored with everything they did. With everything Eddie did. 

Because everything slows and everything else blurs, a flame igniting across every vein that brings you into a lovelorn haze. You hear your heart beat with the precious song Eddie has dedicated to you right in your ear, and you feel like floating off the chair. The halo comes back to slot itself between his horns, luring you in like a moth to a flame; like a venerated, fallen angel that has you plunging your hand through the clouds and taking his, flying you to his safe haven. 

“I resolved to call her up, a thousand times a day. And ask her if she'll marry me, some old-fashioned way,”

His once caterwaul cry of a voice shifts into a soft, canorous sway from baritone to tenor. Eddie smiles at you, a look in his eyes you can’t fathom but makes your heart burst, blood dripping down your chest but you don’t care. 

For four minutes and twenty seconds, your eyes never leave Eddie. And neither does he, like he knows he won’t so much as place the wrong finger on the wrong string or fuck up his plucking. Everything’s a scene on a cheesy romcom, a feeling told through a lovesick song, a story told through a galore of rhyming words in a poem. 

“Every little thing she does is magic; everything she do just turns me on. Even though my life before was tragic. Now I know my love for her goes on,”

In your mind, you push yourself off the table, chair falling to the ground, coke spilling onto the wooden top, walking yourself up to him and tackle him in a kiss; one of his arms would be around your waist and the other holding the mic stand tightly, your hands cupping his delicate face and mold your lips with his like some puzzle piece waiting to be connected. 

That the spotlight settles on the both of you, and you’ll fly up to the skies to spend the rest of your lives loving each other in eternity like everyone else did. 

But you stay on your seat with a fluttering heart and an agape mouth. You don’t realize Gareth has sped up his drums for the denouement of the song, and Eddie leaves on last hard strum before the small crowd claps for him, seemingly happy to finally watch someone play a song they knew. 

Eddie bows, an abashed smile for gratitude. “T-thank you, everyone—”

“Holy shit. They’re actually clapping for us—”

“Shut up, Jeff,”

-

“Thanks for coming, uncle Wayne,”

Their hug is tight with claps on the back and prolonged grunts. Wayne breaks away, hands on his nephew’s shoulder, a proud smile on his face. 

“No problem,” he nods at him. “Needed a break from work, anyway,”

You stand behind Eddie, fingers joint in front of you. Wayne gives you a kind smile that you return, one that makes Eddie turn to his shoulder to look at you, and you can see the roseate glow that dusts his cheeks. He bats you his eyelashes, eyeliner slightly smudged, before he turns back to his uncle.

“I like this whole… makeup thing,” he points at his eyes.

“Thanks,”

He leans in to whisper something in Eddie’s ear that you can hear, hushed words that are suspicious when Wayne looks at you again and when Eddie laughs nervously and lightly pushes at his uncle’s shoulder with a small whine of uncle Wayne, shut up! 

“Nice meeting you, Mandy,” Wayne tips his hat to you. “Drive safe, kids. I’ll see you tomorrow, Eds.” he pats his shoulder, shaking it lightly before he walks away.

Eddie walks you to his van, a hand on the back of your waist with his notebook clutched to his side. It’s quiet, with your shoes crunching with the gravel ground; he opens the door for you, right before he moves to his side. You watch in the side mirror as Wayne gets in his own car and pulls out of the driveway. 

Eddie throws his black notebook in the back, key twisting to start the car, and Broken Wings by Mr. Mister plays. It startles you, whipping your head at him.

“Where exactly are you taking me, Munson?” you narrow your eyes in feigned suspicion. He chuckles, buckling in his seat belt. “Well, that’s a first.”

“We’re leaving Hawkins. I can’t go to jail,” 

“Oh?” you raise a brow. Eddie laughs, humming along to the song which peaks your interest but you’re more curious about something else when he pulls out the driveway. “So where is it?”

He gives you a quick glance, the corner of his lip twitching up. “Illinois,” 

Your smile falls a bit, shifting into something confused when you squirm in your seat and rest your hands on your lap. “Oh,” you purse your lips. “What’s up in Illinois?”

“A surprise,” Eddie chuckles. “I’m not kidnapping you, if that’s what you’re thinking. Noooo ritualistic sacrifice.”

“I wasn’t thinking that,” you toy with your fingers, scratching gently at your tattoo. “You do know that when we get there, it’ll be one in the morning,”

He slows the van for a moment, driving with one hand as he reaches blindly behind him. Finally, he pulls out a pillow. It looks new, smells fresh, even, like laundry detergent. Eddie places it on your lap. “Figured. Take a nap, then,” 

You don’t. You hug the pillow to your chest, but you rest your head on it after you say a small thanks. Eddie adjusts the volume of the radio, redirecting the acs and when you give him a silent thanks with an abashed smile, he takes this as an opportunity to talk again.

“I’m really glad you came, by the way,” he smiles. “I mean, I know you said you’d come a while ago. And I’m really happy that you came even though our gig kept on being canceled for months.”

“I made a promise,” you lightly slur. “Your uncle’s really nice, by the way. He showed me this picture of you in his wallet when you were a baby. All ass and naked-”

“Shit, really?”

“No. I’m kidding.”

He tsks. “Would have been a nice, PG way to show you my ass but hey, it’s good to know my uncle doesn’t go around showing my butt.”

You laugh, unabashed. “I think I’d prefer grown up ass than baby ass, Eddie,”

Is this… flirting?

Flirting that’s not PG-13? Although, when has flirting been family friendly?

Why is he flirting with you?

Eddie’s smile dwindles. “You also look nice,” then he stammers. “I mean, more than nice. You look good- great- pretty- b-beautiful.” he sighs, the embarrassed pink tinge on his cheeks hidden by the darkness of his van. “You look… beauteous”

A rush of heat convulsing from your head to your toes that makes you squirm on your seat and toy with the ends of your red dress. “Beauteous, huh?”

“Yep.”

“Big word,”

“You know me,” he makes a psh sound, tapping his fingertips on the leather of his steering wheel. “I like it when they’re big…words,”

You turn your head to him. “Are you alright?”

Eddie’s fidgeting on his seat, lips pursed, eyebrows furrowed, feeling like he’s been berated for something so small. “Yeah! Why wouldn’t I be? I’m- sorry for, uh, the whole ass thing.”

“It’s just ass, Eddie,” you laugh.

“Yeah, but it’s my ass,” he motions to himself. “Isn’t it weird that I’m talking about my ass as a baby to you- you know what?” Eddie suddenly stops the van, right in the middle of the road, where it was just the two of you in his van in the asphalt ground. 

You gawp. “What are you doing?”

He unbuckles his seatbelt, leaning forward to shrug his vest off, leaving him in the extra shirt he brought along after his show—The Van Halen shirt he opted to shoplift one time, but you’d stopped him by buying it which he thanked you with an ice cream. And coincidentally, Runnin’ With the Devil starts playing.

Eddie places his vest on top of you, the entire shoulder length covering your chest; it’s as if he wants to keep you warm. You pout, hugging the pillow with one arm and the other tugging the vest around your right arm.

“Take a nap,” he pats your knee gingerly, giving you a small smile. “We’re gonna have a long night, sweetheart— god fucking damnit,”

You blush at his moniker but laugh at his rabelaisian accident. He sings beneath his breath, gives your bare knee a rub with his thumb before he starts driving again, forgetting to put his seatbelt back on.

-

“Oh my god, you are so gonna sacrifice me to the Devil,”

“Only bad girls get punished, (y/n)— I’m just gonna shut up now,”

When Eddie said he’d be taking you to Illinois for a surprise, you don’t expect to be brought to some abandoned home in a place you’re an alien to. Upon you stood a house which hangs on rusted nails and broken cement walls. It seemed to be a small historic mansion, built in a hamlet a couple minutes from the suburbs. 

You feel like you’re one of the protagonists who idiotically explore a home they shouldn’t be exploring in some horror movie. That behind the bushes hid a man with a burnt face and knives for fingers. The trees rustle, crickets chirp and the wings of birds flap into the night sky. There’s a dog that barks from a distance, cars that speed across the asphalt road to their destination, and Eddie’s labored breathing as he stares at you for any signs of fear or hesitance. 

You should be afraid — it’s one in the morning, and Eddie’s brought you to a place that’s hours away from your home. Are you afraid of him? Never.

But are you afraid of ghosts…?

“Is this safe?” you look around, surrounded by low hills and trees from afar that hide the city and the suburb. “Are we gonna get arrested?”

“We’re safe,” his eyebrows raise a little. “No ghosts, I promise. Although I can’t guarantee you there won't be any bugs and weird creepy crawlies in there, but I’ll protect you from them,” Eddie jokes.

You laugh, looking at the broken windows, the shape making it seem like someone had thrown a rock inside. There’s a small graffiti beside the door. Mellon Collie & Infinite Sadness, motherfucker!

“Mands, come on,” Eddie offers his hand, a glint of hope that bejewels his dark eyes. He’s gotten rid of his eyeliner already (sadly), but he looks just as handsome. Shyly, you place your hand on top of his. 

His palm is rough; the same goes for his fingertips. But they’re warm and gentle and so welcoming. It’s like your hands are made to hold his, with the way they connect like some padlock. Eddie holds your hand the same way you hold his heart: of reverential attentiveness and utter devotion.  

Eddie beams, bearing a smile that reaches his eyes. He tugs you close to him, pocketing his keys. “I got you, ‘kay?”

You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Copy that, rockstar,”

He blushes.

Slowly, Eddie pushes the door open. An eerie creak emits from the decrepit door, loud that you worry it would be heard from the houses a couple minutes away. He visibly winces at the sound, your hand tightening around his when he tiptoes his way in.

“Fuck, I forgot the door did that,”

You look at him. “You forgot?”

“Well, how’d you think I knew about this place?” he smirks at you. “Gotta impress you, sweetheart. You, as an avid lover of pianos and Billy Joel, need to take you somewhere you’ll love,”

In all honesty, you appreciate the effort. And the thought of Eddie wanting—needing to impress you, makes your heart perform an elegant summersault. “Well, that’s nice of you. I can learn how to love some dingy home.”

Eddie laughs.

There’s a spiral staircase that leads up to the second floor, its balusters broken in half, the risers in the middle having foot-sized holes, the handrails covered in green veins. There’s an arched entrance beside the foyer, leading to a living room with couches covered in a thin white sheet, with a coffee table fallen sideways and a couple of smashed plates on the ground. There’s a window beside the fireplace, too, although what only remains to be the frame itself.

The carpeted floor is covered in mold, and you wonder what its design might have been before it had turned into this disgusting, brown color. 

“Don’t worry, there’s a room in here that doesn’t look this… mlegh,” he frowns deeply, wiping his hand on his thigh. “God, that was gross. This way, m’lady,”

He leads you through the spacey hallway, passing by ripped picture frames, a kitchen full of smashed plates and open cabinets filled with moldy and spoiled food; bedrooms with blankets covered in dust and démodé clothes inside unhinged wardrobes. Each item and corner harbor cobwebs from lingering spiders, and you almost ran into one if it weren’t for Eddie warning you to be careful.

Finally, your feet meet the marbled floor of a new room; moldy carpets gone, the darkness gone as this room is lit with the moonlight that sparks through the broken window. But there’s a clean blanket in the middle of the room, a picnic basket and a pack of beer—both fresh and clean.

You look at Eddie with a parted mouth and he says,

“Behold,” his arm stretches, moving behind him to guide your vision. Eddie’s ringed hands unearth his surprise, where your eyes follow his direction. “A piano,”

There’s a primeval grand piano in the middle of the room, the dust wiped off of its existence; its legs had been duct taped, the lid chipped and it’s missing two wheels but it was beautiful nonetheless. 

“You said you’ve always imagined playing Billy Joel on a grand piano, so here you go,” he lightly punches a wall. “Now, I know I’m no rich, snobby person, but I would applaud you, sweetheart,”

You near the piano, running your fingertips across the keys, pressing on one of them to see if they’re in tune and they are. You snap your head at Eddie with a slack jaw, tears welling your eyes. 

“Gareth and I drove up here, fixed up this room. Luckily, he knew someone here in Illinois who could tune the piano. And as for the blanket, and the beer, and the sandwiches, well, uncle Wayne did me a favor and brought all that shit up here. Now, I know it’s kind of gross in here and it’s like, one in the morning but—oh!”

Eddie’s tackled by your hug, feet knocking him back and almost to the ground. You wrap your arms tightly around his neck, nose digging onto his hair and eyes slammed shut to fight back the overwhelming tears. There’s not a single bone in him that’s hesitant to hug you back, holding you close to his chest, his heart pounding against yours when he presses his lips on top of your head.

“This is amazing,” you say against him. “I can’t believe you-you did this for…me.”

You pull away from him, hands on his biceps when you turn to look back at the grand piano. Eddie’s arms run back and forth on your waist, looking down at you with a triumphant smile before he twists you so that your back’s to his chest.

“Anything for you, Mandy,” he moves his hands up to your arms, rubbing them. “This was all I could do but-”

“I accept anything you give me,” you murmur with a smile, starstruck with the piano and his gift. 

“Yeah, I know,” he rests his chin on your head. “Now, you’ve got something to play for me?”

-

The lively music created by your adroit fingers was enough to make Eddie sway. You lack the guitars, the drums, and the trumpet but it’s robust with buoyancy nonetheless. 

You play the same way Eddie did—with a bobbing head, a bewitching voice, and dexterous fingers that know their way to your beloved instrument. He sips his beer, sitting cross-legged on the blanket, watching you with such awe; an exact mirror of you and him in the Hideout.

You keep your eyes riveted on the piano lest of mistakes. But Eddie thinks you’re far from failure, with how nimble your fingers are, and how your voice was as angelic as it had always been.

“You mighta heard I run with a dangerous crowd, we ain't too pretty, we ain't too proud,” your fingers glide, from left to right, pressing on all chords in quick speed, and it makes him holler. “We might be laughing a bit too loud. Aw, but that never hurt no one.”

“YES!” he claps. “You’re amazing! A fuckin’ star!”

Eddie takes a swig of the bitter liquor, headbanging to a song that wasn’t even metal but you could headbang to any song, right? 

When you’re done, he pulls out a rose from a basket and throws it at you, falling on top of the piano as he stands up from the blanket, clapping loudly that it ricochets outside the empty, broken halls. You flush, smiling bashfully when you stand up and take the red rose into your hand, bringing it up to your nose and bowing as if you just finished an hour-long concert.

“Felt like I was in church,” Eddie pants, wiping his palms on his jeans. “You’re goddamn amazing, Mands. You really could be the next Billy Joel,”

“Oh, stop,” you wave him off, playing with the stem of the rose. “You’re just-”

“Complementing? Praising you?” he cocks a brow, walking towards you and places his hand on your back. “Okay, now sit. I’ve got a surprise for you, babe,”

“I swear, if you’ve got Billy Joel around, I won’t hesitate to kiss him in front of you,”

“Keep it in your pants, young lady,”

You guffaw. “How could I keep my lips inside my pants?”

“By- shh. I’m trying to show off here,” he stretches his arms, fingers settling over the keys. “Um, Dustin taught me this. Kid’s great with the piano and all that shit. Not as great as you, though. He’s more…superior with his mind than he is with music. But, he was able to help me with this so let’s thank the little shrimp for that.”

Nodding, you bump your shoulder with his. A smile paints your face, having already been surprised that Eddie Munson learned how to play the piano for you. But you wait for the real one, eager to see what he has in store when he positions his fingers on the piano, rings pressing against the ivory.

“Uhhh- oh!”

You peer quietly, watching the way his fingers keep a leisurely pace; an obvious sign that he’s still unsure of which keys to press next. But he knows the words by heart — something you’ve never heard of, and it’s obvious that he’s written this himself. You deem the meaning behind them salient, singing with his voice a dulcet tenor, eyes evident that he’s repeating all the words Dustin said: 

Remember the keys. Play gently. Make sure you don’t get pinched by the keys, and you can always go slow. This isn’t some Corroded Coffin show where you start headbangin’ and making those fucking riffs. You play- gently! What did I just say? God, you’re gonna die a virgin.

Eddie looks at you for a split second, nervous, worried with the way your eyebrows furrow and your mouth parted. If he were being honest, he doesn’t know what he’s doing. The minute he sat down on the bench, he'd forgotten half of what Dustin had said, mind almost omitting to remember the lyrics he’d worked hard for for weeks.

And god, you’re staring at his hands and his face with bewilderment. And you’re beautiful. He feels so fucked up (in a good way). He’d probably kill himself if he fucks this one up.   

But you regard the lyrics. They’re meaningful and heartwarming, meant just for you when he takes those short glances, but there’s a part that stitches all your wounds together, provided by his dangerously blunt needle.

“You whisper into my heart. And I've never been quite smart, but I heed your words in a tempest; just where our bones will rest,”

Piano played with fidelity, lyrics sang with breathless devotion, fingers genuflect to please you with its core venerated. Eddie Munson plays for the key to your heart even though he’s had it in his palm for a long time; shakedown your mind with a flickering flame in his mind, veins high on morphine. 

Suddenly he stops, and Eddie looks at you with a face so wrecked with nervousness you just want to kiss hug him. 

“That’s- that’s everything that I remember,” he flops his hands down to his lap with a huff. “It’s actually unfinished. But I couldn’t wait any longer,”

You croon. “Why not?”

“Well, why’d you think I brought you here in the first place?” he whispers. “Other than me wanting to surprise you. I mean, Mands, I wanted to impress you. Think of any other guys who’d bring someone to an abandoned home for anything but a date.”

“A date, huh?” you repeat, slowly smirking. “This is a date?”

Eddie pales. “Well, I mean, if you want it to be… a date...”

You decide to play with him. “I hardly think of this as a date,”

“Why not?”

“I’ve barely eaten,”

He giggles, leaning back with his head lulling back. “Sorry! Sorry I jus’- wanted to see you play.” Boldly he reaches up to push your hair behind your ear, the side of his face glimmering by the bright moon seen from the huge hole on the wall of the room. “I stole your lyric, by the way. Kind of makes me not want to give you some credit,”

Flushing, you look away, mustering up the courage to place your hand on top of his. “I’d really appreciate the credit, Munson,” you murmur. “That way the world would know who I was,”

“But who cares about the world?” he cups your face, thumb resting on top of your cheek. “I’m here, Mandy. I’ll… heed your words. Y’know? I’ve never been smart but I’ll heed your words in- what was the next word?”

“Tempest,”

“Tempest,” Eddie repeats. You giggle, leaning into his touch. “I am…stupid for you. But I’ll understand you. I’ll listen to you, and I’ll take care of you, (y/n). I…”

He’s redolent of piety to genuine amor. Eddie looks at you like you painted the stars on the dark sky, like someone who’d pulled him out of hellfire and thought that all his devilish, leather and metal glory was worthy of your attention and acceptance. He cradles your heart in his hand.

“I think I’m in love with you,” he states. “I didn’t know anyone could fall in love twice but, life is full of possibilities.”

Tears well your eyes, rivulets transferring to your eyelashes. It seems like Eddie has mirrored you, too. You cock your head to the side, letting out a dry chuckle. 

“Me too,” you bite your lip. “I really like you. And I think I’m in love with you,”

“Thank fuck. My next option was to sacrifice you to Satan if everything went to shit,”

“Hey!”

“Kidding,” he smiles softly. “Can I kiss you?”

Four words enough to sweetly kill you, only to be resurrected by his yearning stare. You nod. “I don’t know. Can you?”

He doesn’t answer, but yeah, he can kiss you.

It’s tender, it's soft, it's warm, it's free, and it’s loving. It feels like summer in the dead of the night; like sitting in front of the fireplace with hot choco during winter. Eddie kisses you the way a lover would, with megawatts of avidity. And his lips are soft and home and so validating. I see you. I feel you, I understand you. 

Eddie fully carries your face in his hand, slanting his mouth against yours when he takes a deep breath. He breaks away for a moment before he tackles you with an open mouthed kiss that you reciprocate, the feeling of his balmy tongue grazing your plump bottom lip.

You feel the heat wave itself from your chest to the space between your legs that makes you subconsciously lean closer to him, thighs bumping. Eddie’s hand crawls from your cheek, to pressing lightly on the dip of your neck, to your plump shoulder, grazing the tattoo he painted on your skin until they land on your thigh, lifting it on top of his.

You moan softly that vibrates across his warm chest. Eddie hums, playing with the ruffles of your red dress, keeping your hot mouth locked against his. But when your hand comes down to grasp at his bicep, moving behind to tangle lightly on his curls, your body searches for friction and uses his thigh as the nearest solution. 

“Christ, babe,” he breaks away, the tip of his nose still pressed on your cheek. “You only got panties beneath?”

“You never know,” you pant. 

He groans, feeling blood rush down to his cock that immediately hardens. You feel an acute bump beneath your knee, giving Eddie a rubicund glow. You press the back of your knee against it, which makes him squeak. “Y’ really wanna- wanna do this? I mean, I just kissed you.” he swallows thickly. “And I’ve- I’ve never done this before,”

Eddie looks ashamed, like it’s embarrassing to be a virgin in your twenties. Your heart melts for him, face softening, taking his hand into yours and kissing his knuckles. 

“Me, too,” you confess. “But I trust you and- and I wanna do this with you. Besides, it’s better than to leave high and dry, right?”

I trust you.

He laughs jovially. 

“You’re right,” he gives your mouth quick pecks, too short for your liking but he makes up for it when Eddie readjusts himself so that he’s fully facing you, urging you to do the same so that he’d wrap your legs around his waist. “‘M gonna take care of you, Mands.”

He easily lifts himself off the old bench, carrying you with him. You sway with every step, arms locked around his neck, lips slotted against him with his eyes closed tightly but luckily he knows his way to the thin blanket.

Eddie kneels, almost falling down with your weight. He places a hand to the back of your head and the other on the bottom of your spine when he gently lays you on the light eiderdown. 

Immediately, he lays himself on top of you, a forearm on the side of your head with the other palming at your waist. Your dress rides up to your thigh, pooling beneath you when Eddie moves forward to caress his thigh against yours, your knees pressing up at his sides. 

“Can I- Can I remove your dress?” he asks gently, eyebrows joint. “Please?”

“Yes, please,”

His hands wander to the buttons in front, removing them with ease until your bra appears. It doesn’t match what’s below you, something you’re slightly embarrassed about, but Eddie goggles at them as soon as he pulls on your strap. “Oh, god, you’re hot.”

He mouths at the top of your breasts, sucking gently as he begins to pull down on your dress until he sees your cotton panties. He drags them down until your body’s free of restraint, where he moves back so he’d remove them off your legs and place them on top of the basket to avoid any dust ruining the fabric.

Then he goes back to kissing your tits, hands cupping them together, bunching the material of your bra in his fists. You moan softly, grasping his shoulders.

“Beautiful,” he says. “Goddess divine,”

Eddie helps you sit up slightly so he could reach behind and clumsily unclasp your bra. His tongue pokes out in determination, makes a happy sound of success once he sees your bra loosen, straps draping down your shoulders that he gladly removes from you. 

“Hold on,” he leans back, moving to his knees to remove his vest and shirt. Eddie stuns you with his alabaster skin tainted with black ink. A gnarly demon on his chest beside a black widow, the infamous bats on his outer forearm, the puppet master on the inside and the butterfly on his wrist; the wyvern on his bicep, and there’s a huge, hotly formidable tattoo of a pair of bat wings starting from his v-line, curving around his waist, and a skull beneath his left pec. “There. Now we’re even,”

“You look… christ, I’m not even gonna fucking hold back. You look hot. Very fuckable,”

He laughs with a light shake of his head. “I’m gonna pretend you were looking at my face while you were saying that.”

When he goes back down, his lips attach to your hard nipple. You mewl softly, feeling his hot saliva lather around your tit when he suckles hard like he searches for something in there. You clutch at his hair, head tipping back, hips jolting up to grind against his bulge which makes him groan. 

“Do you have to suck on my tits longer or should I start touching myself already?”

Eddie chuckles in disbelief. “Patience, honey. ‘M gonna give you what you want, don’t worry.”

His hand grips at the warm flesh of your thigh, index finger moving up to slip beneath the waistband of your panties, massaging your flesh. And he treats the other breast with the same hunger, doesn’t stop until he’s certain they’re sensitive (they are. They really are.)

Finally, he starts moving down, pressing wet, open mouthed kisses on your belly, down to your navel, until he reaches your dampening underwear. You prop yourself up to your elbows when he stutters in his movements, staring up at the wet spot that reveals the indent of your little cunt.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, a forming billow of insecurity preparing to tackle you the longer he stares at your clothes sex. 

“Nothing,” he clears his throat. “Jus’ that I’ve never… eaten a girl out, before. Well, I’ve had practice. Just not at a girl’s p-pussy,”

Curiosity waves insecurity off. “Well, where? At your hand?”

“At a fleshlight,”

Your head feels like burning. “Oh,” you blink. “Well, do your best, I guess. Good luck,”

“Thanks,” 

Eddie sniffs at your arousal, biting back an animalistic groan that scratches at his throat when the aroma of nectar fills his nostrils. Eddie leisurely removes your panties, lifting his eyes up to connect with yours. They’re achingly concupiscent, pupils blown in the thick glaze of frisson that makes the hair on his arms raise with anticipation. 

Finally, he tugs them down, wiggling them off you. Eddie’s practically edging himself, with the way he slowly reveals your cunt, mouth watering at the shiny gloss at your clit from your slick. He growls lowly, sliding them off faster until he tosses them into nowhere (you make a note to hit him later for that).

His hands push at your knees, spreading your legs apart, making your pussy open and splay out for him to press his tongue against. 

Which he does; Eddie’s lips purse, lets a thick glob of his spit cascade down to your clit before leaving a featherlight kiss to it, until he licks a fat stripe from your tiny hole to the bud. You keen, back arching, which makes him link his arms around your legs and press a hand on your navel to keep you down.

It’s a foreign feeling you know you’d relish for the rest of your life, especially when it comes to his tongue. “Oh, fuck,” you whimper. 

“You taste- taste fucking amazing,” you do. Like honey; like a pétillant sweet moscato, syrup on pancakes and all other sweet shit he could think of. Eddie repeats his action, which makes your hole flutter around nothing. He suctions his mouth at your clit, sucking all the juices that continue to leak out of your blushing cunt. “Christ on a fucking clutch- oh, god, Mandy.” 

There’s an embarrassing sound that seems to be like quiet slurping and the raw music of wetness created by his lips and your arousal. Your toes curl, the tip of his tongue dragging along your folds like some kitten before he returns to taking your clit back in his mouth.

Mewling, your elbows give out and your head falls down to the sheets, eyes squeezing shut. His vacant hand comes down to drag itself along the mess of your hot sex, amalgamated with his saliva and your lubricous dampness, rubbing your clit with his index and middle finger in slow, pressured circles that begins to ignite the flame below your stomach. 

“God- Eddie- I-”

“Wanna use your words, babe?” he laps at your hole, nose rubbing at your clit when he shakes his head vigorously. “Tell me how good it feels, come on. Don’t go shy on me.”

You nod, your wrist pressing on your forehead when Eddie parts your slick petals with his fingers, formed into a v to expose more of you. He licks at it, teasing your folds, gawking at you. 

“Feels- feels amazing. Felt like I was gonna pee whenever you- fuck- suck at my clit. God, Eds, I want more,” you whine, bucking your hips at his face. “Please. Please please please,”

He laughs against you. “You weren’t gonna pee, sweetheart.”

“How’d you know?”

“Porn,” he furrows his eyebrows. “Eavesdropping works sometimes.”

Eddie licks at his fingers, index and middle stuck together in his mouth as he twirls his tongue around them. He pulls them out with a small pop, eyes  wandering up to your bare, heaving chest, and he couldn’t resist a teasing squeeze using the hand pressed on your navel.

Then, he begins to ease one finger, lips apart, breathless as he watches you take in his digit slowly. It’s a strange feeling, with something prodding deep at your entrance, where Eddie doesn’t stop until he’s practically knuckle deep into you, pressing against your viscid walls; an alien sensation that feels good, albeit you still don’t feel full, even so, it’s tingly and blissful.

Your brows furrow, lips disjoined to produce heartily mewls, evoking Eddie of his altruism. He can’t get enough of how you taste, of how heavenly your sounds are despite the deed being so irreverent. He’s thrusting the single digit slowly. So you buck your hips against his face, almost shoving your clit into his mouth.

“M-more,” you whine. “Please. I can take it,”

“Yeah?” he kisses the outside of your cunt, nipping at your thighs. “Gotta stretch you open first, right?”

The tone’s a question, though it careens to remind you of what he’s going to do next. Eddie pulls his finger out, moaning quietly at his scintillating limb. He lifts his middle finger, placing it beside the sticky index before he gingerly impels inside. Your hips raise, your wails turning a bit louder, bursting into pleasured linns of coloratura. 

When he brushes that sensitive spot that makes you sob, one that abuts the waves and fluxes delirium on every blood that swims on your insides. Eddie looks up at you, hair in a tangled mess when you keep pulling on them as he picks up his pace and quaffs at your pulpy button, shoulders spreading your legs at an almost uncomfortable distance that puts an ache from your legs to your thighs.

The sounds you make are absolutely empyrean. They reverberate from the torn walls of the hallway just outside, like angels warbling as they play the harmonious harp with their cherubic fingers; like the skies had opened, let out a beam of sunlight surround him in a circle and take him up to heaven where you remain. 

And they shouldn’t be taking sinners like him; a devil worshiper as they rudely opine. Yet here he was, listening to an angel cry, her teardrops leaking down his fingers to his gyrating wrist, combing through his hair pruriently. 

But now, because of him, he doesn’t think you're an angel anymore. With what’s happening — angels don’t submit to the devil now, do they?

Eddie’s hair is a blazing abradation against your sensitive skin, heightens every part of your senses that explodes your mind. You feel an overwhelming, anomalous twist in the pit of your stomach. 

He places gentle kisses on your silky thighs, looking up at you with such vehemence. “You make the prettiest sounds, Mands. Just as pretty as your voice, hm? Wanna sing for me? Gon’ make you sing so loud, baby.”

Fingers fasten. They scissor, and they spread, and they augment on your viscous in your tight canal. An amoral sound produced by his neophyte hands and your needy, swelling cunt that aches for more despite already having been split open by his fingers. 

You moan, loud, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit as his arm begins to shake the faster he moves his hand inside you. Eddie begins moving up, fingers still fucking you, kissing his way up to your face. He leaves wet spots on your skin, both of his saliva and your wetness. Your hands leave his hair, eyes scrunched close to weep coarsely, pushing at his hand, urging him to go deeper that his cold rings sting your raw folds. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you warn him, stomach flexing, arm grasping at his hastening hand. You clench around his fingers, locking him in place for a split second from how tight it was. “God, Eddie, I’m- you’re making me cu- I’m close,”

“You can cum,” he kisses your cheek, dragging his lips up to kiss the corners of your eyes. “Cum for me, sweetheart. Come on, be a good girl and cum for me,”

You do, with your back bowed, jaw slack with mewls and moans, thighs shaking when he continues to rub your clit even when your cum starts to coat his fingers, dripping down to his rings and wrist. Liquid spurts, a hollow but wet sound when he slows his fingering and fucks your tiny entrance open. 

Finally, Eddie pulls them out with a humiliating shlick, cum leaking out of your hole and onto the thin blanket. He shoves his fingers in his mouth, like it’s his libation —god of fingerfucking, as you’d call him in your mind when he sucks all the white sap.

“Felt good?” he pokes your cheekbone with the button of his nose. “Because if it didn’t, I might as well leave you here and go back to Hawkins butt naked.”

You laugh, slapping lightly at his arm. “It felt amazing, Eddie. Don’t worry.”

Your hands fumble with his jeans. But Eddie kisses you, unrestrained with his tongue sweet, a faint bitter taste of the beer he drank earlier. He places his hands on top of yours, placing them on top of your stomach before he goes back to removing his jeans. 

The sound of his pants unzipping excites you, eyebrows raising as you kiss him harder, hands coming up to grasp his face gently, thumb on his cheek and the rest of your fingers below his jaw that you caress its emolliency. Eddie raises his hips, tugging them down until he’s clad in nothing but silver rings and checkered boxers.

He nods towards his crotch when you break away from him, eyes leading from his chest, to the fuzzy brown hair of his happy trail, to the bulge that pokes out of his loose underwear. “Wanna see it, babe?”

“Can I?”

Eddie snorts. “Yes you abso-fucking-lutely can. Take it out, sweetheart. You can play with it a little,”

He moves to lay halfway beside you, legs dropped and slightly spread, hands on his back to support himself. You get on your knees, face aflame when Eddie’s eyes watch your every move with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. You wonder how he could be so calm; if he felt the same nervous sensation overwhelm your core, both being neophyte to sex. Nevertheless, you’re not nervous enough that you want to stop.

But when you tug down on the band of his boxers and his cock vaults up, he tries to hide how overwhelmed he is. You ogle, and if you could, you would have foamed at the mouth at the sight of his thick girth, tip swell with precum, how a vein bulges beneath and how his sack hung heavy. A voice in the back of your mind wonders if he could even fit inside you but suddenly you’re starved.

“Pretty,” you breathe out, tongue licking your lips. “Dude, you’re big,”

“Thanks.” he blushes.

Gallantly, you swipe your hand across your slick heat to lubricate your palm. He visibly shudders, eyes glassy, groaning when your fingers enclose around him.

“Fuck,” your wrist gyrates, starts moving up and down on his length. Eddie’s hips buck into your fist, your movement leisurely, like you’re relishing the feeling of his hot cock in your hand. But you lean down, mimicking him earlier by letting a dollop of your spit drizzle down on top of his tip. “Oh- oh god, that felt good,”

You slant down to wrap your lips delicately around his engorged helmet. He moans, breath ruptured when you sink down onto him, taking only what you could and coat the rest with your trembling hand. “Fuck- shit- yeah, baby, your mouth’s amazing,”

He tries not to buck up into your mouth, restraining himself by carding a hand through your hair to cup it on the back of your head. His hearing becomes muffled, nothing but the opaque sound of birds, deluging it with your gurgles, your spit and his fluid that continues to leak from his slit leaking down to his balls. 

Eddie had imagined this once- twice- three, he doesn’t know. It had been too many to count and he feels bad thinking about it; what kind of normal person would imagine their friend being on their knees, naked, sucking on their cock?

You look up at him, eyes vast and credulously submissive with enameled innocence, like you’re repenting with his dick in your mouth, as if it had been your god and you beg for forgiveness for all the sins that you’ve caused.

Jesus, Mary, Joseph. Oh…fuck.

Cardinal paints the alabaster marble of his cheeks, brushing over it until it spreads down to his clenching neck and heaving chest as you imbibe his tip, suctioning your cheeks around his length and jerk him off. You look like you know what you’re doing, leading him to wonder if you’d done this before. He should be jealous, let that fraught warp in his mind and spread over his nerves until he stops you and begins to ask. But pleasure besets him, too much, that the question withers away into the carnal haze.

You gag and he almost cums. “Shit, ‘ve been thinking about this for a long time,” Eddie’s voice is rough, sweat dripping down his temples and onto his hair that settles over his shoulders. You break away from his head, moving down to lave your tongue up from the base above his sack to the ridge beneath his tip. “Ohhh- fuck,”

Eddie gently pulls himself off your mouth, his hand coming down to your cheek and raising your head. His cock grazes your upper lip when it pops out and arches to his stomach, leaking down his happy trail. A luster of his precum and your spit smears on your plump lips, mouth parted to take a short gasp of air as he pulls you up to him.

“How’d you learn how to do that?” he wipes the fluid off the corner of your lip, bringing you into a kiss because he misses you, and just because he wants to taste himself.

“Gave a guy head before I left New York,” you murmur against him. “He came all over my face and some of his cum went in my eye. Got pink eye for two weeks,”

He winces. “Ouch,”

Then he gives you a kiss on your eyelids, your laugh that he interrupts with his mouth, cajoling you with kisses as he lays you onto your back beneath him where he slots himself between your legs, his cock grazing your still sensitive folds that makes you whimper in his mouth.

Craving, Eddie’s hand ventures from your waist, squeezing your ample thigh, stopping on your calf to hike your leg up his waist. He grinds down onto you,  pressing his hardness against the swell of your cunt.

“Still want to do this?” he questions between wet kisses, your hands venturing the slope of his back. “Just say the word and I’ll stop.”

“Don’t,” your eyebrows furrow in frustration. “I mean, I still want to do this. Christ, please,”

“Okay,” he breaks away, moving across you to check the basket. “Okay okay okay okay- fuck. Gareth forgot the fucking condoms.”

You stammer. “W-you knew we were going to have sex?”

“You never know,” he laughs nervously, copying you. “Um. I could pull out. I mean, I can’t exactly promise you I’d have the- the energy to do so. But I could just eat you out ‘till you’re okay. OH! Sixty-nine! We could do that! That way we’re both satisfied,”

“Eddie,” you reach between to grab his cock, squeezing lightly. His eyes flutter, groaning. “Just- just fuck me, okay? We can figure it out later.”

“Shit, okay,” he leans down to kiss you. “And I’m not gonna fuck you, babe,”

Eddie digs his nose into the crook of your neck, his hand replacing yours, slapping his tip on your bud. His forehead rests on your cheek when he does this, relishing in your small moan. “Why not?”

“‘Cause I’m gonna make love to you,” he lazily kisses your cheek. “‘Y need to stop being vulgar sometimes, sweetheart.”

He jabs at your entrance, before he slowly pushes himself in.

A searing pain threads around your cunt, chiefly at your entrance and your inner walls; though, when the pain spreads across your body, it numbs on your nerves, so the only thing burning was your sex. But Eddie’s taking it slow, agonizingly slow, feeling the tension that radiates. He comforts you through soft strokes against, kissing your cheek at every inch he pushes in.

When you wince once his pelvis pushes against your clit, Eddie lifts his head from your shoulder, his eye twitching lightly from holding back. He massages your thigh, other hand coming up to cup your face and rest his thumb on the corner of your eye when tears begin to form. 

“Are you okay?” he whispers, trying not to move, but his tip’s right at your spot. “Do you want me to pull out? Does it hurt too much?”

“It’s supposed to hurt right?”

“Well, I heard it does,” he kisses your nose. “Sometimes it doesn’t for others, though,”

“Okay,” you chuckle lightly, grasping harder at his back.

It took almost a minute for the sting to retire, and he stayed pliant inside you, waiting until he felt your walls relax around him; until your crumbled face slackened and your mouth opened, letting out sacred breaths. 

“You can move now,” Eddie smiles, slanting his mouth against yours. His tongue explores your mouth, mouth staying closed around yours as he begins to pull out halfway, before he pushes back in slowly. 

Eddie sheathes himself inside you, an omnipotent surge of sybaritism divaricates your senses.  He brushes his hair behind your ears, gazing down at you even though your eyes are closed and you stare into a void with your body aflame. And he feels good- amazing, with every stretch that enkindles every nerve.

You look blissed beneath him, every bone submitting to every grind, every time his head hits that very spot that lets you create sensual croons, soft ones that it seems like you’re silently gasping with your parted lips. He places a kiss to where your eyebrows join, sloppy with his hedonistic thrust. 

It’s nothing but soft, breathless moans, his grunts and your whimpers when the pain numbs out, his lips moving down until he meets yours with his ever loving tongue brushing your bottom lip from the lax kiss. The tush of hair tickles your skin, his balls slapping gently against your ass, his hand leaving your thigh to push your silky coiffed hair off your shoulder. 

He doesn’t hurry, takes his time with you like he’s got every second of your lives, like you both don’t lack sleep. And Eddie can’t stop kissing every inch that he could reach — whether it be the hollow skin of your collarbone, or leaving bites on your neck to mark you, not because he claims your being but because he wants to own your heart. He kisses your cheekbones dampened by your tears, taking your hand from his back, leaning down to kiss the tattoo he stabbed onto your skin. 

“You can cry,” Eddie whispers. “I got you. You look so pretty, hm — fuck, my pretty, pretty girl.”

You let your tears fall down to his thumbs, slowly opening your eyes even though it stings to do so with the tears that prod at your eyeballs. Eddie smiles, clasping his hand around yours and kisses every calloused fingertip.

“Ah, Eddie,” your bottom lip juts out, letting the moans flow. “Feels- f-feels so good. Your cock feels amazing,”

“Shit, Mands, don’t say that,” he laughs weakly. “You’re gon’ make me cum faster than I intend to,”

Each thrust builds a bubble inside, until it explodes and floods you in rhapsodic waves. A heavy feeling that tells you that you’d never get sick of feeling him buried deep in your gummy walls, or of hearing his breathless moans, or the love that radiates through every caress of his that brings you comfort. 

The lacuna is almost not there, like he wants to melt his skin with yours. His sweat drips down to your bare chest, where his lips venture until he wraps his mouth around your sensitive nipples that had been chafing against his chest. You run your fingers through his hair, your hips lunging up to grind with his. 

Eddie’s definitely not fucking you. No, no with his velvet sighs, or with his naughty suckles. He’s making love to you like he said; like he promised. 

“You feel me making love to you?” you nod, taking his face down to smush it against yours. “Put your legs around me, sweetheart,”

You do, gently circling your legs around his waist, heel pressing onto the bottom of his spine. You feel yourself split open, suctioning his cock, driving him deeper. It’s when the lewd sounds increase their volume, whenever his heavy sack hits your wet cunt as he picks up the pace of his thrust, pushing in and in and in.

“Fuck,” you cry out, pulling lightly on his hair. When you suck on his collarbone, a claret bruise colors his pearlescent skin, his chest reddening from the amount of sanguine blood that flows through. “You’re so deep,”

“Can you look at me, honey?” your eyes force itself open to stare deep in his doe eyes, roaring with ecstasy, staring right at the windows of your soul. “Hi there, Mandy.”

Eddie gathers both your hands in one hand and pins them above you, which you meekly allow him to while his vacant one slithers itself between your bodies to rub on your clit. The words in your mouth turn into moans, getting drunk at the bliss. 

He moves faster, the sounds making it seem like he’s fucking you but you’re too lost to care. Eddie moans, keeps on nudging your nose whenever your eyes begin to flutter shut from lethargy.

“You’re taking me so well, hm?” he nips at your jawline. “Pretty little pussy just taking my cock, yeah?”

It’s just you and Eddie inside that abandoned home, you believe. You feel him carve his skin against yours like a promise, when you exchange your slick sweat and your breathy moans swallowed by his open mouth that hovers yours; his hips folding against yours in corybantic impetus. He refuses to close his eyes as if he’d lose you when he blinks, devotion swelling his waterline. 

He drills faster and deeper, the hollow and wet sound of your arousals spurs him on more. There’s a sting on the inside of your cunt, though too faint for it to even dwell in your mind. Then that now familiar feeling of something twisting at the bottom of your stomach comes to surface, burgons over your senses, and so did Eddie’s.

“I’m gonna cum,” you mewl softly. “I’m gonna cum, Eddie.”

“I know, baby,” his grip tightens on your wrists, his thumb on your clit adding pressure and fastens his rubs. Eddie wantonly fucks his cock inside you now, moaning at your small cries when he hits that spot over and over again. “I gotta pull out, okay?”

“No!” you push his chest against yours, locking your feet around him. “Cum- cum in me. Want it in me, please.”

And who was he to resist you?

(Someone who isn’t ready to be a father, technically. But he seriously couldn’t resist you.)

Eddie kisses over your fluttering pulse, his cock snug, pressing himself against your thighs. He continues rubbing your clit, his blunt nails pressing on the sides of your wrist. And he coaxes you through the billow of your orgasm. “That’s it, baby. Good girl- shit- oh, fuck, gonna cum inside this pussy, yeah? Gon’ give you all of me.”

You cum with a gasp, lewd sloshing from your pussy as you gush around him weakly. You feel his cock twitch inside you, right before he tries to muffle his moans by kissing you sloppily, mixing his sultry seed with yours when he slows his thrust, pushing it inside deeper.

He mouths at your chest, licking across the top of your breast before he works up your nipples. Eddie moves his hips again for a couple more times before he slowly pulls out of you.

Your legs fall to your sides. Eddie kisses your knees, massaging your legs, spreading them apart.

Then he pales. “Fuck, (y/n), you’re bleeding-”

“Huh?” your head lifts, seeing the small pink puddle beneath your ass. Eddie wipes his sweat on his thighs, reaching for his shirt that’s been thrown somewhere to wipe it across your cunt hastily. “Babe that’s normal…”

You hide your eyes behind your wrist, panting heavily. The pounding on his heart eases, gently wiping across your cunt. “Really?”

“To some. But I did,”

Eddie reaches for a new bottle of beer from the basket on top of your head, opening it with his teeth before he slots himself back between your legs. You prop yourself up to your elbows, his hand cupping below your mouth when he brings the bottle to your lips.

You drink the bittersweet liquor, swallowing slowly. He smiles at you. “You did a great job, yeah?” He kisses your forehead, and he can’t help but cheekily lather your cunt with his cum when he reaches down to slide his fingers between your semi-bleeding folds. 

“Ah-” you squirm away, gripping tightly onto him. “Ouch. Sen- sensitive, c-christ,”

“Sorry, baby,” he plucks his finger inside his mouth, morsel of cum and your blood filling his taste buds. “Couldn’t resist,”

Eddie slants his lips onto yours, letting your pulse relax in the frenzied mist, the afterglow ensnaring your beating hearts. You see that the moon grants his eyes a vermeil glow when he pulls back, skin glistening like stars in the night sky, luring you in for you to lose yourself in them — you do, basking in the comfort of his gaze, pilfering your soul.

Double-cross the vacant and the bored

They’re not sure just what we have in store

In November of 1979, Eddie Munson stood breathless on the stage of the theater room for the Middle School Talent Show, electric guitar in hand, buzzed hair drenched with sweat that dripped down to his Bauhaus black shirt. The aftermath of his oh-so-metal performance of Breaking The Law left the parents clapping scatteredly, and his classmates hollering and yelling from their seats.

He looked back on his then bandmates and little Gareth who sat proudly behind the large drum set. Eddie laughed, clapped with them before he genuflected, ignoring the judgemental stares of conservative parents who watched his every move as he walked down the stage.

“Well, that was a very loud and brazen performance from… Corroded Coffin,” Mr. Clarke smiled brightly at them, holding the card in his hand. “Up next we have a very, very lovely girl named-”

He said a name, which Eddie deemed as the girl who sat in front of him during History, who wrote things on top of her books that he recognized were lyrics he’s unfamiliar to. Eddie ran his hand across his buzzed head, looking around and wondered where that girl may be.

Little Gareth stood beside Eddie, who pointed behind to the backdoors. When he turned, the doors were swinging open, the exit seen through the small window where he saw her running away to Hawkins High.

Eddie patted his friend’s back, deciding to follow that girl in a purple dress and short pigtails that disappeared into the darkness of the school parking lot.

The doors slammed against the walls, twice, and he ran and ran until he reached Hawkins High where she hid. He roamed the unfamiliar walls, knocking against the dents of the lockers, until he heard the gentle sound of piano from the music room nearby.

Like an angel’s cry for help, as he remembered. The tune of that song his uncle sang every morning familiarizes itself in his eardrums. Eddie approached the door, peaked through the small window, and saw

You.

Your back to him, back hunched, purple dress resting down to your knees with your hands idly pressed at the keys with a melancholy mist surrounding you. Eddie listened to you sing, a couple pitches wrong but nevertheless soft and dulcet, even though he heard something restraining your throat with what seemed to be held back sobs.

“Oh Mandy, well you came—”

When he stormed in, the doorknob slamming at the wall, you yelled, high pitched and laced with fear. Eddie’s eyes had widened and closed the door, placing a finger up to his lips to shush you.

“Hey- hey hey hey no, shh, quiet—” he lunged at you, cupping his hand over your mouth. Your screams had died instantly, though your eyes remained wide with distress and tears that stained his hand. You placed your hands on the bench, waiting until Eddie removed his hands from your mouth.

He saw that you had missing teeth like his, both on the same spot when you hissed at him. That you looked like you had been freshly crying (which you were) with your lips pouted and eyes stained red with the tears that priced your eyes.

Once his hand returned to his side, you kicked his shin, hard enough that Eddie knew he’d have a bruise (he did. A big one that lasted for a week). He winced loudly, rubbing the spot “What is wrong with you? Why didn't you knock?”

“Dramatic entrance,” he spread his arms, bowing down to you like he’d just finished a show. “I didn't mean to scare you like that. S-sorry. Are you okay?”

You had surveyed his intimidating demeanor of oversized black Bauhaus tee, ripped jeans, a single skeleton ring with a slick buzzcut that shone from the fluorescent lights of the music room with puffy eyes. Eddie felt that nervousness bubble in his stomach, knowing how well you’re judging him. But your posture remained relaxed and you showed no ounce of fear so he thought that was new.

When you remained silent, he took the opportunity to speak again. “My uncle loves that song,” he sat beside you, making you scoot over. “He sings it almost every morning.”

“Mandy?” you said, fiddling with your fingers, sniffing.

“Yeah,” his tongue prods at the gaps between his teeth, feeling the gums that protected his adult teeth. “Oh, Mandy. Well, you kissed me and stopped me from shaking,” 

You smiled weakly, sniffling. “My mom likes it too,” 

“Really?” You nodded, tugging on your dress. “I wouldn’t blame her. I like it, too.” Eddie had reached for his pocket, pulling on his skull handkerchief as he spoke again. “Why did you run away? You were next and you ran.”

“I was nervous,” you huffed, tears welled your eyes. “Tammy Thompson said I sounded like a muppet singing so I ran away so I wouldn't embarrass myself,”

Eddie gasped. “She said that?” he furrowed his eyebrows. “She’s the one who sounds like a muppet.” 

You gawped. “No she doesn’t!”

“Yes she does!” Eddie pressed his fingers on either side of his nose, before he began singing in a voice shrill and deafening that made you laugh hard. “Yesterday's a dream- oh! I face the morning yeah yeah crying on a breeze woah ooh The pain is calling- aaaaaaa!!”

You laughed beside him, both your small chests aching for the lack of breath that had been wheezed out, cheeks strained and eyes welled with tears. “Okay, maybe she does sound like that,” your smile withered. “But, what if she’s right?”

 “She isn’t.”

“You didn't even hear me sing,”

“Yeah, I did,” Eddie scooted closer, bumping his arm with yours. “You sounded cool. You sounded like an angel. A pretty metal angel.”

You remembered that it had been the first time you blushed — thirteen year old Eddie Munson, who still had baby teeth at his age, had been the receiving end of that bashful smile; you remembered that he asked if you could play, and you did, with the ends of your purple dress tickling his knees that exposed from his jeans.

“Metal?” Eddie nodded. “I was playing the piano.”

“Well, anything can be metal,” he pulled out his handkerchief. “Crying is metal. Singing is metal. This chair,” he used his other hand to grasp at the leg of the bench and shook it, making you giggle. “Is metal.”

That night, not only did Eddie Munson offer you his handkerchief for aid (that he wiped beneath your nose himself, unbothered by the thick snot dampening the fabric), but he offered you friendship. He offered you comfort and validation, and you offered him acceptance. 

That he proceeded to compliment not just your voice but your hair and your dress. Eddie Munson made you comfortable that night, had kindled something between the two of you that you called a friendship. He watched you play that piano in the music room unabashedly and confidently, him being your first ever audience, and Eddie stood up from the bench, and clapped at you like you’d performed at a concert.

That he sang Don’t Fear The Reaper by Blue Öyster Cult (and gave you a mixtape right before you left) in front of you so you’d get even.

He took your feelings seriously, said that you’d do great and it’s normal to get nervous before a performance; talked to you with his innocent, doe-eyes gaze with his hand on your shoulder for comfort.

And that he watched you, standing in front of the crowd, cheering you on as you sang Mandy with full confidence and carelessness of the judgemental eyes and insults from Tammy Thompson.

You went back home with the thought of that boy with a buzzcut that made you smile brighter than anyone else had. And you had a silly little childish crush on him for god knows how long. 

But Eddie had a crush on you until 1982, where he unfortunately started to forget. And you, the same.

Yet he never forgot. He always thought about that girl in the pretty purple dress who had a pretty smile and a cute laugh, who gave him a kiss on the cheek for cheering her on during the talent show. 

He thought about her — you — every night before going to bed and he dreamt of you. 

And now, here in 1986 where you sat on the passenger seat of his car with a cigarette in your mouth, racing the borrowed time before the sun begins to rise, the open window that blew the hair out of your face as you stared out with a blissed smile, Eddie realizes he’s been playing that dangerous love game since he was thirteen.

That he’s already charged Vecna and his swarm of bats with nothing more than a blunt spear, courage, a dream and a crush that blossomed into love. He’s been there since 1979, having it paused for four years before returning to the Upside Down when you came back.

He’s already played that dangerous game of love and now, he’s killed Vecna with a stake through his heart and won.

Eddie parks his car beside the broken fence of weathertop, the black sky now a bright shade of gray. You smile at him, unbuckling your seatbelt, before you simultaneously open the doors together and exit.

You hold the basket in your hand, the other laced around Eddie’s, climbing up that hill until you reach that spot you both were in weeks ago, with the tall grass tickling your bare ankles, hands tight against each other, a silent promise of protection as he holds you close to him. 

Your equilibrium is askew from earlier events, his shirt hangs well over your body that tickles your sensitive skin, and Eddie actually is shirtless, after unfortunately getting too much dust on your dress. 

But he feels free, standing on top of the hill with his tattoos and the love of his life holding his hand. When the white clouds start to emerge and levitate above him, its shapeshifting glory; pertinently gifting you with peaceful vapor that flows through the town. 

You both sat down, and soon you’ve both got a sandwich and a beer in your hands, sitting side by side, watching as the sun deliberately rises from the earth. You rest your head on his shoulder, munching on the sandwich, bottles balanced between your legs.

“No wonder why your mom’s eager to watch the sunrise,” you smell his musk of faint sex and cigarettes. Eddie presses a kiss on the top of your head. “It’s beautiful,”

He looks at you, the afterglow of sex still dawned on your vogue. You rip a piece of bread off and pop it into your mouth, and Eddie says, “I love you,”

You look up at him, the warm, dandelion smolder of the sun illuminates your face stupendously. He doesn't need to go further into detail how pretty you looked. 

But you? — with all the darkness of the world put on pause like some movie, the pastel colors of dawn that crawl up from his chin to the entirety of his face, his tangled mush of curls that frame his picturesque, devilishly handsome face, it heralds safety; love and adoration that you harbor for this man. 

“Yeah?” you press your chin on his shoulder. “Didn’t peg you as the type to fall after sex, Munson,”

“Oh, sweetheart, I fell a long time ago,” he rubs his nose against yours. “I just forgot,”

“How romantic,”

Eddie places his sandwich on his lap, just so he could push your hair behind your ear and stare at you. So he could see you, validating you for all your worth. 

You both sit there, on the field just where your bones will rest, until it withers into dust and disappear behind those dirt and stone and go one like you both never existed. But death was the least of your concerns, relishing in the moment you have with this person who'd given you validation when you sought for it (and Eddie, who stares at you with such devotion like you'd given him everything he fought for — acceptance).

“But yeah,” you whisper. “Maybe me too,”

He leans down to kiss you. And when the sun rises and coats you with its celestial brilliance, with his kiss chaste and soft and so loving, you break away with a small click created by your wet, plump lips.

“I love you,” you say. And you mean it.

songs played by sequence: unnamed Mötley Crüe song/ Mandy - Barry Manilow/ Your Love - The Outfield/ Third Uncle - Bauhaus/ Marian - Sisters of Mercy/ Message in a Bottle - The Police/ I Wanna Be Somebody - W.A.S.P./ I Want To Know What Love Is - The Foreigner/ Paranoid - Black Sabbath/ Breaking the Law - Judas Priest/ Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic - The Police/ Broken Wings - Mr. Mister/ Runnin' With the Devil - Van Halen/ Only The Good Die Young - Billy Joel/ 1979 - The Smashing Pumpkins (not in the fic)

special thanks to @poppy-metal and her very horny anons who inspired me for the smut i love u

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED 💕

#eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munsonx y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things one shot #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things smut #stranger things angst #stranger things fluff #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction

[thecapricunt1616]

The Bear & His Honey Chapter 4

Inspo: Quote- “ Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me- I should know. I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door.”  Dedication: @daysofyellowroses - bestie thank you for inspiring and encouraging me to write. I haven’t felt more alive and inspired then I have in the past few days writing again. Thank you!! This is for you loveyyyy.  Summary: Winnie & Carmy get closer. Have a marg over a mini therapy session, Winnie fixes up Carm’s panic injury. They find out there may just have been a single thread of gold tying them together the entire time.  W/C: 5,484 A/N: Oh my lanta y’all!! 2 chapters in one day?! I promise- PROMISEEE tonight I am figuring a master list out, because I (myself) have been struggling to keep things canon to the story by having to scroll and scroll through my page to find each part to see what I said for Winnie, LOL! So get hype for that, I love this chapter even more then the last bc it has more Carmy, but Richie is so fun to write and I can’t wait for he&Winnies friendship to bloom!!! For my canon Carmy continues going to therapy once or so a week / a support group type talk therapy so that is why he shares more than he would in the show. It’s on his one day off so that’s why he is able to continue making it, and he thrives on routine so going once a week keeps him regulated.  Warnings for BTC: A little bit of smut, angst, mentions of suicide, mentions of vehicular accidents ending in death, mentions of self-harm, mentions of severe injury, negative self-talk, feminine yearning (ofc), fluffy fluff (enough for your teeth to rot out of ur face), panic disorder, mentions of a panic attack, heavy petting, alcohol, mentions of smoking cigarettes, mental health issues, exhausted Carmy LOL

𝒞𝒽𝑒𝒸𝓀 𝒪𝓊𝓉 𝑀𝓎 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉!

Read Chapter 3

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

The door flings open and before I could even get a good look at him his arms were wrapped tightly around my waist, his large hands resting on my rib cage, and thumbs gently rubbing soothing strokes. I gasped a bit in surprise at the contact, his muscular chest pressed to mine. Pulling me tighter and he nuzzles his face in my neck, his hot breath causing goosebumps to appear all over my skin. I inhaled his scent, a bit of his musky spicy cologne still left over after the long day, cigarette smoke, and a day of working, but he didn’t smell bad at all. I would buy a fucking candle of it if I could, and never burn it so it lasts forever. 

He needed this hug. 

“Thank you f’ comin’, Winnie. I really need a drink, like now” he said quietly and I bit my lip, my hands rubbing soothing circles in the middle of his back. “Course, you think I’d turn down a free drinky-drink from the sexiest little Chef boy in Chicago?” He chuckled into my neck, feeling a small smile press into my skin. “I’m sorry” he pulls away and I finally am able to look at him. 

His hair is a mess, cheeks are stained red, his eyes are bloodshot and glazed over like he’d been crying, he rubs the back of his neck and I see a bit of smeared blood over his forearm. “It’s- it’s okay, hard day?” I asked, twiddling my fingers anxiously, worried he was going to ask me to leave and tell me that it wasn’t a good time anymore. “Ye’” he replied in a sigh and I swallowed hard. 

“D-did you- sorry,” my voice coming out small and meek. I clear my throat “Was it- not a good time for you? It’s fine, totally, totally fine…should have given my number I guess - but I can-“ I motion my thumb to the door down the hall. 

“No! No, please, stay. It’s - it’ll be nice. To like- to see you. I meant sorry about,” he squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head “sorry for like- flinging myself on you?” He says and I giggle, causing him to look at me.

 “I love hugs! You give great hugs, is that why your sister calls you Bear? Oh my god!! Wait. This is your- that’s so cool, Carmen! You’re so cool!” I motioned to the restaurant, alluding to the name. “That’s so fuckin cool dude!” He smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets shyly and looking at his feet. 

“Thank you, but- uh. No. I’m not…usually a hugger which is why I’m also surprised I did that, guess I needed it. They call me bear cause - well. Don’t poke the bear kinda thing” he said and I took a few steps forward, our toes almost touching and his eyes met mine again. I raise my hand, and gently poke the flower tattoo adorning his left arm with my forefinger and smile. “Gonna bite me?” I quip, lifting my hands and poking short pokes all over his chest and he laughs a bit. 

“Y’re cute” he said and I put a final poke on his nose, blush rising to my cheeks at the statement. “And very thirsty. Pour me a drink will you, bartender?” I turned around on the ball of my foot swiftly, walking with pep back into the kitchen and I look back at him, to find his eyes practically undressing me from where I’d left him moments ago. I grin, putting my hands on my hips “You staring at my ass isn’t making me any less thirsty over here, bartender!” I said and he blushes “sorry…sorry”

He comes out and places a hand at the small of my back leading me to the main part of the restaurant and towards the bar “you just - uh…you look really good. I’m sorry, I didn’t have time to get home, I wanted to but - shit just got outta control, Syd forgot about this huge cannoli order and we forgot to get the powdered sugar with the last resupply so I had to make powdered sugar - it was just-” I rub my hand up his arm gently, stopping him and grabbing his attention. 

“It’s fine Carmen. You look fine. I’ll admit, a little bit tired. But you worked all day, I’ve been there” I shrug and he nods a bit, “thanks” he said softly walking behind the bar. I get up on one of the bar stools, crossing my legs and resting my chin in my palm looking over the restaurant and tapping my nails on the table. “This place is super nice, Carm, you should be so proud of yourself. It feels fancy but inviting too.” I hum admiring the lights and artwork on the walls. 

“Why thank you, we all worked really hard. I’m surprised it came together every day, but super grateful.” He said, taking Patron off of the middle shelf and scooping ice into the mixer, counting to himself as he pours it. “Doesn’t show, you run a tight ship it sounds, Chef” I smiled. He snorts “how would you know? Or is it just the pans from earlier” he said and threw a few slices of jalapeño, lime, and mint in to the cup before closing it tightly and shaking. 

“Yes and no, Richie told me, said that you were a good boy today though, and your sister was the one causing trouble” blush creeps into his cheeks. “Ye’ and see what happens when I’m ‘good’ as you told me to do? Shit got fucked” he pours in some club soda and mixes it with a bar spoon before pouring us both a glass. “Mmmm. Was that because you weren’t barking orders, or because something happened out of your control, and you’re blaming yourself?” I asked honestly and he set my glass down in front of me, biting his lip for a moment. 

“Everything is out of my fucking control” he muttered and shook his head, as if it was a quiet, painful reminder to himself. “Most things, in most people’s lives, are out of our control” I gently rest my hand over his and he meets my eyes. “The only things you can control is if, and when you fall apart, and how well you glue yourself back together.” I said earnestly and he swallows thickly, nodding. 

“I like that..thank you” he said and I nod. “Don’t worry, I won’t charge you- this time. But d’ya think I can get a fancy umbrella or somethin’ for this drink?” I smiled and nudged it toward him, he chuckled, shaking his head “you are somethin’ else, Winnie” he crouches down behind the bar with a grunt. 

“Fuck. I’m 26 but my back feels 90” he said and I laughed a bit. “It’s all the cookin’! And being on your feet too damn much, My mom is a massage therapist, you should let me give you a massage sometime.” I said and he got back up, groaning dramatically which made me giggle. “For you, dear.” He drops a little pink umbrella into my cup. 

“Oh my goodness you poor thing. Come sit down” I pat the spot next to me and plucked my bag off the seat, hanging it off the back of my chair. He comes around the bar, plopping down in the chair next to me with a sigh of relief. “I will absolutely take you up on your massage offer sometime.” He said, rubbing over his face tiredly and running his hands through his muss of curls before taking a sip of his own drink. 

“Please do, I’ll pull out all the stops for ya’, but just so you know- a happy ending comes with a pretty cost” I said flirtatiously and nudged his leg with my boot playfully. He chuckled and looked over at me “yea? Thanks for the heads up I’ll be sure to budget accordingly for my trip to Winnie’s Massage Parlor” he teased and I laughed a bit. 

“Yess!! Please do! There’s also Winnie’s salon, Winnie's hospital, and Winnie’s library!! Come by for all your daily needs I’ma’ Jane of all trades” I shrug and take another sip of my drink. “Speaking of” I take his left arm, looking at the inner part near the crook, where 4 large scratches were, done so violently that the skin beneath was turning into a speckled bruise meaning by morning it would be a dark purple. 

“What happened?” I ask softly, my finger tip gently brushing over the untouched skin over the smeared, dried out blood below the wound. “Ahh-“ he shakes his head “it’s stupid. It’s not even bad don’t worry about it” he said and I looked at him, concerned. “Did- did Sug-“ he cuts me off quickly “Sugar, would never hurt me.” He said, his tone was deadly serious. 

I nodded quickly, swallowing hard. “Okay, Carm, I believe you” I said softly and squeezed his wrist gently. “Will you…let me take care of you- please?” I ask quietly, looking into his eyes, my gaze pleading for a yes. 

“So Winnie’s hospital is mobile?” He said with a small teasing smile. I roll my eyes playfully. “Yes, let’s go find the first aid kit, and honestly it’s pretty but like - empty in here and… I dunno” I bit my lip, hoping he got the hint and he nods “sure we - we can uh. Yeah. Let’s go sit in Sugars office. She has a couch” I nodded and hopped off the seat, gasping when the corner of it hooks onto the hem of my skirt as I get down and pulls it up, exposing my backside clad in a lacy red thong through the sheer bum part of my fleeced nylons. 

“Oh my god!” I blurt as I quickly pulled it back down, my cheeks on fire, and my heart pounding in embarrassment. I hear Carmen burst out in laughter behind me making my embarrassment grow and I turned around, crossing my arms over my chest, my eyebrows becoming furrowed. “Hey!” I snip “what’s so funny!! Why were you looking peeping tom!” I whine and he covers his mouth to stifle the laughter. 

“To make sure your munchkin self didn’t trip off of the stool in those clunky ass boots!! Being a gentleman really paid off for me there” he said and I went over slapping his arm gently with a smile growing on my face. “I guess it’s a good thing I wore panties or I would’ve mooned you” I grab my drink and turn around, a surprised chuckle coming from him. 

“Holy shit, you go commando?” He asks, holding the kitchen door open for me “sometimes, she needs to breathe!!” I said with a shrug and pushed my bag up on my shoulder as I followed him back to Sugars office. “But what if you get horny?” He asked and I laughed, nudging him with my elbow. “Dude!! Richie said you were not forward with girls, that’s pretty forward” I set my bag down on sugars desk and he plops down on the big comfy sofa pulling out a recliner on his side and he sighs, closing his eyes. 

“Gimme a sec’ this is the first time my feet are up since 1” he said and I sat down next to him, “you haven’t sat down since I left?!” I asked and he shook his head, opening his eyes and head falling to the side on the cushion to look at me. “Mm-mm” he hummed in response. “Where’s the first aid kit? I’ll find it” I said and he rubs his face, thinking. 

“Uhhh. Oh there’s one in here actually, go over to the other side of Sug’s desk, it should be tucked there next to the wall” he said and took a sip of his drink. I got up, going where he said and I leaned over, completely forgetting the rules of skirts by mistake. “You’re a fucking tease” he said lowly and my heart pounds, my stomach fluttering wildly, and my core beginning to twitch and throb in excitement. 

“What’s not nice about helping a new friend clean up their boo-boo’s?” I asked innocently, a small smile on my lips as I turned and sat down on the couch on the cushion next to him. He smirks “you…are gonna make me crazy” he said softly and closed his eyes, resting his head on the back of the sofa. I opened the kit, taking out hand sanitizer, saline wipes, gauze, and triple antibiotic. 

“Wait-“ he said his eyes flickering open “you- you met Richie?” He asks as if I hadn’t been mentioning him since I walked in the door, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “It’s like- the first thing I said when I got here.” I said and he sighs softly. “I’m…sorry.” He finally said, like he was contemplating whether to say more. “That’s ok, you had a hard day” I took his arm gently, laying it across my lap. “What did he say? How bad did he embarrass me?” He questions and I giggle a bit, sanitizing my hands before opening a saline wipe. 

“Not at all! He said you’re shy with girls, that he’s surprised you asked me out cause he thinks I’m pretty, and apparently, doesn’t think you are very funny- but I on the other hand, seemed to make him laugh a lot so- got you beat” I teased with a smile as I ever gently wipe over the wounds. 

He snorts “well, you are pretty, he’s an asshole but right.” He said and I looked up at him “not many people make me laugh anymore, you seem to, though.” I said honestly, and he tugs his lip between his teeth to catch a grin from taking over his features. “Yea?” He asks quietly with a blush going across the bridge of his nose and cheeks. “Mmhmm” I hum in reply, putting the ointment on and carefully rubbing it in. 

It was quiet for a moment before he says “I’m sorry.” Causing me to look up at him, but his gaze was stuck on the ceiling. “This wasn’t - I wanted to do something nice for you and… I’m sorry.” I stop working on his arm “sorry for what, Carm? This is so nice. The drink is really good, thank you for making it, I’m glad to be here.” I said honestly and placed my hand on top his. 

His icy blue eyes meet mine, looking over my face slowly and locking on my lips. His eyes flick back to mine when he responds “you just look so pretty, like you should be on a real date. Not here fuckin-“ he sighs, looking down at his arm then back at me. “Dealing with my stupid mistake.” I shook my head and wrapped up his arm with a bandage to keep it clean and dry while he slept and it could scab over. 

“This is a real date. You own a restaurant. Carmen. Look at me.” I order and he looks into my eyes. “You, just you, asking me to come see you, to be together, to get to know each other? You are enough. This is a date. An awesome date. I’m having fun, are you having fun?” I asked and he smiled a bit. 

“No, but….” He trails off, looking at his lap and I felt my heart physically ache, my face drooping “peace” he finally said “I feel…at peace, with you around. I noticed it when we were outside earlier, I came out for a smoke cause I was about to absolutely loose it on Syd, and I don’t- I- I can’t do that to her. So I went out and I totally forgot my light and then..you were there and I forgot about everything.” He said. 

Goosebumps arise on my skin at the admission, the warmth in my chest returning at full force. “And - I thought about you…all day- all-all day. Not like- god I sound like a creep” he takes his arm, rubbing his face in embarrassment. “I thought about you too.” I reply softly. “I thought about you…a lot. Actually.” I bit my lip and his eyes met mine, searching for truth and it was all he found in my locked gaze. 

“Not like- I just couldn’t understand how I felt. But the more I think… I do this thing.” He rubs his chin as he thinks. “Learned it in therapy, they said when you can’t figure out how a person or a situation made you feel, you can like think of people and situations that you do know how you feel about, and keep comparing them until you find a match. S-so when I thought of you.” He swallows thickly and I sit up, completely entrenched in listening to him. 

“I found that things that gave me the same feelings w-were like…my one day off a week that I don’t have to be here. I think of…the fucking morning I went to Central Park and watched the sunrise and it was so..so quiet. I think- I think” he presses his lips together. “O-of-of Mikey. Of my brother. He’s dead. But. H-he. He protected me a lot, growin’ up. Helped me out. A lot. I felt like when Mikey was around, it was alright. And that’s how I felt earlier. I’m sorry-“ he shakes his head, putting the recliner down and finishing off his drink. 

“Why?” I ask and squeeze his hand “that’s…so, so sweet. You make me feel at peace too, unless you’re angry- but I was worried for you and what happened. I’m so happy I make you feel like that, Carmen. Thank you for sharing, may I hug you?” I ask gently and he looks at me a bit surprised. “Y-yea ‘fcourse c’mere” he opened his arms and I wrapped him in a warm embrace. “The way you make me laugh makes me feel the way my brother did when he made me laugh, we were twins. He died.” I said just above a whisper. 

He rests his cheek on the top of my head, rubbing soothing circles in my back as I did for him earlier. “I’m so sorry, what was his name?” He asked, equally as quiet. “Chris, Christopher” I felt my lip quiver, that never dulling ache in my chest throbbing at the memory of him. 

“Oh, wow” he whispered “Winnie and Christopher” I felt him smiling on my hair “your parents knew what they were doin’ with names, that’s adorable.” He said and I smiled a bit. “Thank you, can you guess what our nursery was?” I look up at him and he raises his eyebrows. 

“Hmm.. let me think. Oh! I know, Dumbo?” He says sarcastically and I laugh, closing my eyes and nuzzling my face in his neck “Silly. Winnie the Pooh, I always said it was my room, because they had a big wall sticker of Winnie and all his animal friends, but not one of Christopher since they couldn’t find one. He hated that” I said and his fingers gently rubbed over the spot of bare skin between my skirt and my top. I feel him chuckle a bit “that’s cute” he said. 

“How did Mikey…” I trail off, his fingers stilling. “Shot ‘emself” he said plainly and my hug around his torso tightens “I’m so sorry” I whisper in to his skin. “What about Chris?” He asked and I swallowed thickly. “We got in a motorcycle accident. I still can’t talk about it.” I said as evenly and emotionlessly as I could, if I opened that flood gate there was no shutting it. 

“Oh- my god. Wow. I’m so sorry, I’m so glad you’re….” He trails off, realizing the other victim was very much not ok in any sense of the word. I sit up, taking my half full drink off the table and drinking it down in 3 big gulps. “Want another?” He asks and I shake my head, “work tomorrow” I said and he nods, “yeah me too” he muttered rubbing over his face. 

“Can I…get your number?” I asked and he nodded sitting up “course you can” he said and took his phone out of his pocket, logged in and opened up a new contact screen, offering it to me. “Only if I can have yours” he said with a small smile. “Of course!!” I took it from him. 

Winnie 🍯  

I put as the contact name, and type in my number, hitting save before handing it back. I do the same for him on my phone and hand it to him, when it’s returned, I see 

Carm🐻 

I smile, deleting the emoji and switching it for a 🧸 instead. I show him with a tilt of my wrist “cause your awesome hugs.” I said and smiled, saving it again. He blushes, smiling and shaking his head “I think you’re the one who gives good hugs, you smell like honey and you’re all soft.” He said and I giggle. “I’m glad you like my perfume” I said and pushed my hair behind my shoulders. 

“I do, it’s very nice. You live around here?” He asks and I nod “2 blocks that-a-way” I point behind us and he raises his eyebrows. “Really, what street?” He asked “Kensington Ave. The brownstones” I said and he chuckled “No shit. I live in the high rise across the way” he said and my mouth drops. “Wow. Work neighbors, and building neighbors, we’ve never met?” I giggle “you've been avoiding me?” I ask and he chuckles “never, uhh. I’m like never home. I go there to sleep for a few hours, and my days off I…sleep…the whole day usually, I usually get home around 1am and leave at like 4ish, sometimes 5 if I sleep in” I raise my eyebrows in disbelief. 

“3 hours of sleep and you wonder why you feel 90? You need to sleep Carmen. You’re gonna have a heart attack.” I said and he chuckled. “If I would only be that lucky'' he joked, taking our empty glasses to the kitchen and I followed him “no- i'm serious, like you’re gonna drive yourself nuts.” I said, leaning on the counter watching him wash the glasses. 

“I am already there sweetheart don’t worry, been there- ahh let’s see, 20? Maybe 19. So 7 years of insanity give or take.” He said and I giggled, shaking my head. “You are not nuts. A crazy person couldn’t run a restaurant.” I said and he snorted “that speaking is the mind of someone who doesn’t work in a restaurant. No, you have to be a psycho to do this shit. Especially at the level I do it.” He shuts off the sink, putting the cups on the drying rack and leaning on his elbows on the table mirroring me from across. 

“I think you’re very, very passionate.” I brush his curls from his eyes “and that you sometimes get in your own way by not allowing people to help you.. which can make things harder” I said and he smiled, amusedly. “How do you already know so much about me, have you been stalking and avoiding me so I don’t find out?” He teases and I laugh. “Shut up, no. I have not. I dunno… like our souls know each other. That’s how I feel.” I shrug, crossing my hands under my chin and looking at him. 

“Hmm” he says. “Do you believe in past lives?” He asks and I nod “for sure. And future ones. I don’t think we can learn everything in one go that our souls need” I shrug and he nods a bit. “We need to talk more about this when I don’t have a pounding headache from being so overtired” he said softly and I pout, “c'mon let’s walk home.” I said and headed back to the office to grab my things. 

“I just have to go to the back and get my stuff gimme a few” he said from the kitchen. I waited by the island, shawl back on and bag on my shoulder. When he comes back out, my breath gets caught in my throat. Hes wearing delicious light grey sweatpants, blue Nike sneakers, and a plain white champion hoodie. As he lifted his arms to put his backpack on, the hoodie rode up, revealing his tight, toned stomach, and deep, deep V line. I lick my lips, imagining myself on my knees worshiping his god-like figure and he clears his throat. 

I looked up again, realizing he completely caught me red handed checking him out like the hottest new library book and I felt my cheeks heat, giving a shy smile. “Ready?” He asked and I nod “ready” I said meekly, mentally face palming for my lack of discretion. “Y’know it’s not a bad thing to check me out, right? I guess for earlier you can call us even” He asked as we walked down the hallway and I nearly tripped over my own feet at the boldness. “Fuck you” I roll my eyes playfully and he opens the door for me. 

“I’m a little tired right now, but for you? Anything. Your place or mine?” He asked and I laughed, slapping his chest playfully “you are a naughty, naughty little boy” I teased, wrapping my arms around his bicep as we walked. “Just letting you know allll the ways this glorious date could end” he said, a smug smirk on his face and I shook my head, looking at the sidewalk. 

This was so nice. I usually am needing to check behind me every couple steps, am tensing at every noise or stranger I pass, but with Carmen I feel protected. Secure. 

“I’ve never actually been able to enjoy this at night, I’m always looking over my shoulder wondering if I need to get my switchblade out” I chuckle shaking my head. “Switchblade? Damn. Can I see it?” He asks and I nod, digging in my purse and pulling out the pink knife attached with a MyMelody keychain to a can of mace. 

I pulled away from him, hopping a few steps ahead.  “Everybody watch out! I’m a woman that’s armed and dangerous!!” I giggle, clicking the little button and the hello kitty blade swings out with a click. He laughs, and I faced him, waving it around the air in front of me lightly “what’s so funny huh? I’m menacing Carmen, imagine I mugged you right now with a hello kitty knife” I said, causing him to laugh harder, clutching his stomach. 

“Oh my god - please” he snorts in laughter causing me to laugh. “Awww little piggy!!” I teased and he gasps pretending to be offended. “okay! Rude! You better not snort ever or you’ll be the piggy miss” he said making me start laughing again “you are at my mercy right now, sir, have you so easily forgotten?” I gently wave the pewny knife in front of his face. 

“Oh you sweet thing. I know you wouldn’t hurt a fly.” He plucks it from my fingers easily, closing it. “Only because I have the strongest little chef in all of Chicago to protect me. My knight in sexy gray sweatpants and a white sweatshirt” I mused, a playful smile dancing on my lips. “Mmm ok we’re getting there. I don’t like the little part, but- we’ll get there” he joked, dropping the knife back in my purse. 

“Oh, yeah?” I said, grabbing his arm again as we continued, our buildings come in to view. One of my hands trains down his arm, slinking my fingers to wrap between his. “Mmhmm” he hummed. 

I stopped again, standing in front of him and wrapping my arms around his neck loosely, standing on my tip-toes even in my heels to reach his ear. “I think that you know, that I know, you’re the sexiest, most hard working, passionate, gentleman - that I’ve ever had the pleasure of having a chance with. And I also think that you know, I have bratty tendencies, and love pulling your chain because I know it gets you going. You wanna know what I’m 100% sure of, though?” My sultry hot breath caused goosebumps to come up on his neck, his hands wrapping around my waist and squeezing gently. “Was’ that baby” he said softly, his voice laced with desire. I lace my fingers in his hair, gently tugging at his frizzy curls from the day. 

“I’m sure that you need a brat. Because what you need, Carmy.” I nibbled at his ear gently. His breath hitches in his throat, biting his lip to silence a soft moan. I wasn’t quite sure where all of this raw confidence and honesty was coming from, likely from the strong drink Carmy had made and my being a lightweight.

 “Is to be able to force someone in their place, and have full unrelinquished control over the entire situation. For someone to give themselves to you, be fully yours. To use. To love. To worship. Whatever you desire. Cause you’re a control freak. But that’s sexy, that’s soo sexy. I love a man who knows what he needs” I place a soft, lingering kiss on his racing pulse point. 

His hands trail down, cupping my ass before squeezing roughly and I moan softly at the contact. His hands were so strong, so large, but somehow the touch was still lacking confidence. “C-can I” he says softly, “can I kiss you, please?” He whispers. I lift my face to meet his, our noses brushing as I rest my forehead on his, looking into his eyes. His pupils were blown wide from both the dark and lust, the only peak of blue being a tiny sliver. 

“That depends,” I said with a smirk adorning my lips, I nuzzle my nose against his gently. “Will you kiss me how you want, Carm? Or how you think I want?” I ask and he licks his lips. “I want to make you happy” he whispers, I twirl a curl at the base of his neck around my finger. “It will make me happy, if you take what you want from me” I whispered. 

Before I could blink, his lips were on mine, kissing me hungrily- a war of tongue and lips, my fingers tightening around his hair and tugging smiling proudly when he moaned into my mouth. His hands trail my skirt, lifting it slightly to massage my backside in his hands wantingly. I let him take me, dominate me, own me in that moment, matching his hot feverish kisses as well as the sweet, gentle ones. We only broke apart to breathe, our chests rising and falling at an equal rapid pace. His lips were slick from our kiss, swollen from the rough encounter. He was beautiful. 

The only sound was the infrequent car passing, or the sound of the crickets that had made their homes in the small patches of grass on the side of the sidewalk that housed the trees. 

“I want you to come to family”

Read Chapter 5 Here!

 

#carmy berzatto smut #carmy x sydney #carmen berzatto x you #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #readteamomas #carmen berzatto #carmy #the bear carmen #carmen berzatto the bear fanfiction #carmen berzatto the bear #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto x oc #the bear hulu fanfiction #the bear fics #the bear fanfiction #the bear 🐻 #the bear fx #the bear fandom #the bear hulu #the bear fic #the bear #jeremy allen white fanfiction #jeremy allen white #carmy berzatto x oc

[flamerunn3r]

Sorry this is unfinished but I need to post these now just bc idfk when i'm gonna actually finish the rest realistically. Idk it will happen eventually. For now heres the great p5u ramblings post detailing my thoughts designs

This is my own personal interpretations but is also somewhat speculative in nature. I'm mostly trying to deal in already established characterizations and epilogue set ups but there might be stuff I've missed or forgotten (i also haven't played dancing yet sorry if there's something in there I hadn't accounted for). This is kind of like if I took the creative reigns on the story where I'd continue for it. Only the investigation team for now (and 2 boss characters I have an idea for) but maybe I'll do the shadow ops at some point. Only 4 characters for now but I'll reblog with additions when I finish the rest or if I edit any of these

Yu Narukami

He's currently attending school as a journalism student in the city or just starting out as one. Enthusiastic about his field but still tries to find the time to keep up with his friends and visit Inaba on his holidays. I felt journalism made alot of sense for him with the themes of persona 4. I liked the sport jacket and turtleneck but wanted soemthing different so the scarf was chosen to keep the same kind of silhouette. I made the collar on the winter coat large and I feel like Narukami's large uniform collar is a key part of his design. and I wanted to call back to that in his casual outfit. The summer outfit I mostly kept close to his summer outfit from p4. I'm kind of unsure on it though I might come back to it. I mostly wanted to keep his outfits smart and simple. For his meta verse outfit I really wanted to go all out with the bancho (kingpin) stuff and other delinquent tropes. I lengthened the uniform coat a little because I wanted it to look like a tokko-fuku. Alot of smaller detail inspiration was taken from Izanagi. The lenses in the mask are supposed to mimic glasses. I'd imagine he'd take off the mask the same way he throws off his glasses in myriad truths.

Teddie

I can't imagine him leaving Inaba and the TV world behind. Still staying in town and working largely the same job. He's got his own place now albeit small (still a step up from the closet though). At some point the IT asked Mitsuru to pull some strings so he actually has a legal personhood now. The animal hoodie is something that came to me spontaneously but I knew I needed to include it. I really that his normal outfit in 4 keeps the white and red of the bear costume in the outfit so I tried to keep the colour scheme here too. Most of his later outfits are less flashy and more casual so I tried to continue that trend. I didn't want to lose the rose from the corsage completely so I included a rose pattern in the second shirt. Alot of his outfits feature light blue so I wanted that in at least one outfit. I considered making the hoodie light blue initially. I don't think he'd have a metaverse outfit he'd just use the bear costume.

Naoto Shirogane

I'm under the assumption Naoto is still presenting masculinely to the general public as of p5 but I may be mistaken in this. If I'm wrong I'd still probably largely keep the outfits similar to this. Naoto's still working as a detective and I don't think that's ever really going to change. One thing that a hypothetical p5u would have to address is what Naoto and the shadow ops would have been doing during the events of persona 5 and I unfortunately do not have any ideas for what that would be at the moment.

I feel alot of the appeal of Naoto's design is the kind of boy detective fashion. I went at this design with the intention of kind of refining that into something a little more adult while still keeping in a similar vein. I did have to ditch the pageboy hat unfortunately as I felt it made them look too young. These outfits were kind of design as pseudo work clothes which is why I tried to make them a bit more formal then the other characters. Something I consider notable about Naoto's design but deliberately avoided here was the rolled up pant legs. It's very obvious in 4 it's done because Naoto is short but I feel like Naoto would start getting that either custom made or tailored to fit. I was initially going to forgo the blazer on the summer outfit but the design felt empty without it. Naoto having a noir detective themed metaverse outfit is an idea I'd had for years but I tried to incorporate design elements that were princely. I alot of the inspiration was from Sam Spade specifically. Deliberately made similarities to Akechi's white crow design. The band around the hat is supposed to invoke the similar one on the old page boy hat.

Yukiko Amagi

Still working at her families in but is taking online courses during the off seasons. She's mostly happy where she is but is keeping her options open. Occasionally makes visits to other ryokans out of town for ideas for her families own inn, as well as an opportunity to for her to sight see.

The headband was included in her design in p4 as a like retro design thing but I find it too important of a marker of her design to remove it. I understand the why they went with the hairstyle they did for her golden epilogue but I feel it just ends up making her look way older then she is. I thought her having her hair up would be a nice change since she does it so rarely and settled on a ponytail. Tried changing the bangs but the ones she already had just felt right. I wanted her clothes to carry this kind of air of sophistication so I tried to keep them relatively simple and sleek. She's wearing pants in the winter outfit but I chose the longer coat to keep a similar skirt silhouette. The choker was largely inspired by the scarf she has in her winter outfit. Despite being a different colour the cardigan was also chosen to tie back somewhat to the sweater she wears with her school uniform.

In some side material it's mentioned that Yukiko has an interest in western fashion and aesthetics (part of what made the castle manifest the way it did) and I wanted to lean on that in some way for her metaverse design. I ended up going with a masquerade ball theme. I tried to keep the dress to something simple and easy to move in. The gloves and boots take inspiration from her persona in terms of design and size. I wanted to incorporate elements from her work kimono as well hence the ribbon around the torso and flower patterning. Probably the most unsure of this one of the metaverse designs so far. Especially the colours (considered making the reds pinks initially). Might revisit this one.

Ok that's all I have for now I'll probably do Rise's next 👍👍👍

#sorry these are of wildly varying quality i did them at completely disconnected times #i guess feel free to critique my ideas if you want but be nice pleaseeeeee #persona 4 #fine this can go in the main tags #also this took like 3 days to type up. i just proofread it but if theres something that makes no sense then oops my bad #ul

[melrosing]

Ok speaking of changes GOT made… is there any changes you like? I struggle to find big moments, but there are small additions I love. Like Ned praying before he dies, Robb hitting the tree when he finds out, the chemistry that Kit Harrington and Rose Leslie have…. But there are very few structural changes I think improve the story.

hmmm so I can't lie there is a LOT I just don't remember anymore about the show, so wringing my mind a little to come up with something.....

I won't mention things that I think were adapted well (like Ned's execution) as those aren't adaptational changes. and I also won't mention things that I like the idea of (e.g. Jaime's dyslexia) but not the execution (they made out it was part of the longrunning 'stupidest Lannister' joke).

and like.... well I'm stuck already lmao?? I'm not even trying to shit on the show I just feel like it was a consistent exercise in either understating GRRM's work or butchering it entirely. so I can think of only a few things:

I can't find the link to where I talked about this at length but the scene in which Jaime and Ned duel in the streets of KL was a good one imo. I think it was more in character for Jaime to just recklessly fight Ned himself, and a neat parallel to what I suspect will happen between Ned, Arthur and Howland - in that when Ned is attacked from behind by one of Jaime's men in the midst of their fight, Jaime angrily ends the duel bc his man has essentially dishonoured it. I think Ned's fight with Arthur will end as it did in the show (with Howland stabbing Arthur from behind and Ned finishing the job, bc he needs to reach Lyanna), and this is like a parallel to show Jaime and Ned have the same principles, yet each have broken them in times of desperation. My personal theory is that this was a change GRRM recommended - the parallel seems notable to me, and not one that would've even occurred to D&D, esp. given they never gave any particular shit about Jaime's story. And this may sound spurious but I recall that GRRM remembers in an interview, saying the weather was different in the show version of the scene than in the books.... which makes me think he was maybe onset for this one, possibly because of the rewrite??

I'm v much in favour of ageing up the youngest characters. My ideal starting ages for the youngest characters in AGOT would've been Jon/Robb/Dany - 18, Joffrey/Sansa - 14, Arya - 12, Bran - 10. To me they all feel much too young for the roles they play in the story, and it occasionally kills my suspension of disbelief

I way prefer the book’s version of the Red Wedding but I do feel like Catelyn's single cry of despair works better than the book's manic laughter. maybe the laughter was a more vivid image for the books idk

I do actually like how we see Robb's grief onscreen it's very movingly played by Richard Madden. I also love Catelyn's expressions as Robb rides back from the Whispering Wood, like both these scenes are great reminders of their mother/son relationship in a setting where they aren't really allowed to be just that. and like just Michelle Fairley tbh I really like her work as Catelyn even though I don't like how the character was adapted more generally

Breaking the 'concept but not execution' rule just to say I think it was definitely a good idea to explore the High Sparrow as this weirdly charismatic figure so we can see how others might be taken in by him, even whilst we see the extremes of his faith. but that subplot was not executed well at all so fuck it

Yeah I agree that Jon and Ygritte having a slightly more charged romance also works. In the books Ygritte comes and goes quite quickly and I think there is something to be said for lending a bit more gravity to that relationship. I don't think they necessarily had to be the grand romance that the show makes them out to be but I didn't hate it

I might be forgetting other things that worked because some seasons I haven't seen since like 2015, but honestly it just doesn't work for me as an adaptation. things I liked in the show before reading the books feel completely naff in hindsight, knowing how they were supposed to play out, so..... eh

#ask #anti got #asoiaf #edit: sorry this originally said I prefer the show’s red wedding I do NOT 💀💀💀

[italoniponic]

hello lovely person :3

can i request the octotrio with a gn s/o that just loves the ocean

they grew up in a coastal town and have always loved marine biology, surfing, swimming, diving, etc. etc.

i grew up by the coast and one of my special interests is marine life! as you can imagine i attached myself to those three fishy fools the moment i saw them

tysm, have a great day <3

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲'𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

| Notes: Hi, anon! SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG! This is our 25th request and well, another one for the octatrio lol The Mostro Lounge business is expanding, as it should! There’s a similar request but with a swimmer reader, so I’ll put it here if someone hasn't seen it yet. But this one was very unique and I leaned more into the marine life aspects (tho I’m not an expert so sorry in advance)! There’s some Little Mermaid references (bc why not?) and some other oddly familiar details here and there… Thanks for the request <3 |

Azul Ashengrotto, Jade Leech, Floyd Leech x g!n ocean lover reader / octatrio / headcanons / fluff / little mermaid references / established relationship / use of “you” pronouns

Cherry's Harvesting event 🍒 Masterlist

Under the Sea

You may be in a completely different place, but there were still some things you remembered from your world. You grew up in a coastal city, accustomed from an early age to the ocean and always curious about sea life. You loved things related to surfing, swimming and sea biology, anything that could bring back memories of your interests. You were a real fish out of water;

So naturally you grew closer to Octavinelle’s trio and ended up becoming a close friend of Jade’s. One thing flowed into another and you two started dating, but one of the things that never ceased to amaze Jade was your passion for the ocean. You were interested in various aspects of this and asked him a lot about what life was like in the Coral Sea;

Even if you both had lived for a long time on different surfaces — living on the coast isn’t exactly the same as the sea itself — your childhood stories merge into feelings of nostalgia and longing. Jade misses the sea a little at times and when you talk so enthusiastically about “his home”, he realizes that it would be very nice to visit the ocean with you one day;

One afternoon, when your schedule was free, Jade took you to the coast part of Sage Island to see the sea and the pier. As expected, the air seemed cleaner at that point in the middle of the island and was full of seagulls. There was also that pleasant salty smell of the sea in the air, taking you on a ship of nostalgia;

Jade liked to watch you trying to touch the water or talk to a seagull, asking if he had come across a clownfish by chance — as curious as that was. What could he say? Your joy made his heart fill with bubbles. You know when you release the air underwater and it rises like it's several bubbles? Something like that, Jade still doesn’t know a way to explain in detail;

Since you can't go to the city all the time, sometimes you have to be content with the fish that swim by Octavinelle. Jade leads you through the corals and you have the chance to find several species there, of all colors and shapes on top of the rocks and, next to them, there is beautiful and elegant anemones;

In general, the fish don’t stay too close to the students in the dorm and swim in a flock in the distance. That and you suspect that the presence of Jade intimidates them a little, because of his size. You know how moray eels are of a very opportunistic carnivorous type, feeding mainly on small fish, crabs... and yes, octopuses too;

“Oh, can I ask you something? Have any grouper merman ever asked for your help hunting?”, you once asked. Although groupers are one of the eels’ few predators, they sometimes recruit them to hunt together. “Yes, once. The poor thing mistook us for giant morays, which are the eels that do this, and we broke his arms. Ah, good times!,” Jade sighed, laughing. You did regret asking this;

As you enjoy diving and swimming, Jade will always go with you — whether in the dorm or when you two go on the beach or at the pier — and sometimes, even he returns to his merman form to accompany you. You like how his skin glows under the light filtered by the surface of the water, creating a fluidity in the shades of green and blue;

Other times, you stay at the sand on the beach, just talking. You ask so many questions and comments so much about what you like in oceanology that Jade feels strange sometimes. After all, it is usually he who does the interrogations most of the time. But your love, both for him and for the ocean, is clear in your gaze. Crystal clear as water;

“What do you love more? The ocean or me?,” Jade asked with a calm expression, impassive. You didn't know what he wanted with that question. “I've loved the ocean for as long as I can remember... and maybe, I like you because of it... but, I know I love the ocean even more because of you, Jade.” You didn't know if that was what he wanted to hear, but it was your most honest feelings. Jade smiled and kissed your right cheek, pulling you in for a hug. A hug that could hide the slight pink on his face.

To begin with: it's not that Azul hates the sea. He had his share of bad experiences during his childhood and all this motivated him to grow up and seek something beyond the surface, but it’s not like he hates there. He just didn't have big dreams of returning to the ocean when he graduated. He had found his place on earth and here is where he would like to stay, even if he missed his family a little;

So finding you — someone who would breathe water if you could — was a big surprise for him. You tried to control your excitement a little to meet real mermen, Azul fastly picked this up. It reminded him of when he first saw a human. Perhaps it’s the feeling of finally seeing something not very common from your environment. Although, according to you, mermaids in your world don’t even exist;

One way or another, when you tell Azul a little about yourself, you end up mentioning about your childhood near the coast side and your love for anything that could put you in direct contact with the water. You have the shine of a pearl in your gaze, your voice is agitated like the waves, showing how you are immersed in these good memories;

It touches Azul’s heart, deeply. But the final blow was when you commented on being kind of sad not to have anything that reminds you of the sea in Ramshackle and that's why you like to wander around Octavinelle. Using your honesty and feelings against Azul in this way? What a low trick! Now he sees no other choice but to give you an aquarium as a gift;

A gift that requires something in return, you don't even bother to confirm. But calm down, Azul thought of a very simple payment. In exchange for your beautiful aquarium with corals and your favorite fishes, you should continue to attend Octavinelle. “That's all, my dear. I hope you enjoy your beautiful aquarium,” Azul said goodbye giving you a kiss on your cheek;

To Azul's infinite surprise, you know more about the things of maritime life than it seems and sometimes, talk to him about some curiosities that you know about octopuses, considered very intelligent animals. You also ask him a lot about his merform, so intrigued and enthusiastic that he doesn't even know how to answer you without feeling a little flustered;

After much bribery and convincing, in the first opening of Azul’s schedule, you drag him to show you the pier and the beach of Sage Island — even though it’s a different series, you feel like an evil mermaid taking the protagonist around just to annoy some princess. Anyway, Azul shows you the beach and you two spend time in the sand and water. Sometimes hunting shells, sometimes almost dancing around the small soft waves that crashes in the beach;

Once, Azul prepared for you a small boat ride along a small river that flowed in the middle of the island. You put on your best outfit for the date. You two were talking the whole way, Azul slowly paddling and you touching the water from time to time. When you were returning in the late afternoon, the conversation became more serious;

Azul told you more about his childhood and how the mer-children made fun of his octopus appearance and his lack of coordination. You, however, assured him that you would like to see his true form again because it is the most beautiful you ever saw. Azul promised nothing, but, your kind words comforted his heart, as always;

On a certain day, Azul went diving with you on the island coast and to your surprise, he brought a potion to return to his original form and another for you to breathe underwater, where your talk could be more private. You showered him with compliments from start to finish, completely charmed by him. If Azul had three hearts just like an octopus — he didn't confirm you anything — you made all three beat fast as drums;

“I don't know if I'd ever want to go back to the sea, but if it’s with you... maybe...,” Azul said in a low tone, hoping you wouldn't end up listening. But you heard it anyway and you replied, “I'm going to want this signed in two copies.” You laughed at Azul’s surprised expression, firmly holding his hand. They say that the ocean doesn’t reject anything and you were glad that he, the most beautiful in all seven seas, welcomed you too.

Floyd thought it was awesome how you liked the sea so much. It had been two years since he had come ashore to enter Night Raven College and there were few opportunities to return home and see his family — more because the Coral Sea in winter was terribly icy. And he was very curious about the life of surface humans;

Meeting you was that perfect exchange. You might know a lot about the sea, but you didn't know everything — especially about merfolks. So Floyd liked to ask you things about humans and he'd answer you anything about mermaids. Despite being from different places, your experiences complement each other perfectly;

You told a lot of things from the perspective of someone who lived for a long time in a seaside town. You have always been interested in maritime life and your affection for Floyd was almost immediate. It was even interesting to know how some features of his eel form translated into his human body, the normally poisonous mucus of eels left him with an enviably silky skin;

Floyd once told you how Jade and he got the scales from a sturgeon merman — which, poor thing, challenged them to a fight — to make their earrings, a very common amulet in their homeland. But there are so many other stories about their childhood that you listen to with great interest, writing everything down in a small notebook that Floyd likes to doodle sometimes;

But what is it to have contact with a merman if you can’t see the sea? Say no more, little shrimp! Just for the price of your sanity and ability to walk on your own, Floyd Leech will literally put you on his back for you both to run away and go to the beach — sometimes he's not in the mood to play basketball but to fool around in the sand;

Or, if trampling sand castles that have been poorly built isn't your thing, you can try some surfing. Why the worry? Azul pays, just leaves it in his account. You both rent the surfboards and try your luck in the waves. Floyd hasn't gotten used to standing on a surfboard yet but he's not shaken by the waves that fall above him. The fun is right there, in his opinion;

Once you couldn’t get the boards — Azul forbade you two to put things in his name — Floyd brought with him two vials of potion, one of which made him return to his merman form. The plan was quite simple: you held on to him while you swam against the waves, as if you were surfing. You guys went back to school completely soaked but it was a fun afternoon;

At the times Floyd isn't in the mood to go out, you two stay chatting in Octavinelle while admiring the fish swimming above you. Since coral is kind of hard to sit or lie down, Floyd stole some cushions from Octavinelle's lounge to make you two comfortable. The scolding was worth the time you spent together there, talking and laughing;

You get homesick on some occasions and the company of your Octavinelle friends makes that feeling increase as much as it comforts you. Listening to you vent as the two of you set the tables in the Mostro Lounge makes Floyd kind of homesick too. It's not a strong feeling but he really liked the good times he spent at the bottom of the sea with Jade and Azul;

One time, seeing him in his eel form, you asked Floyd if he had a second jaw inside his mouth. No one ever asked him that. They've asked if he really gave electric shocks — and well, his magic didn't ease people’s concerns — but never about his jaw. “Would you like to check whether it's true or not, Koebi-chan?,” he asked giving a big, sharp smile;

There was a time when Floyd took you to the pier and you two swam a little until you came to a rock nearby. You begged him to come closer and you climbed up on the stone, holding the top firmly and making a mermaid pose. All because you wanted to mimic a nostalgic movie of your world, which Floyd assumed it was some mermaid movie;

“Koebi-chan? If you could come to the ocean with me, would you?,” Floyd asked suddenly, looking at you curious. “Without even thinking twice,” was your immediate response. At the same time, the wind blew hard on the sea and a wave hit both of you. Floyd started laughing because your imposing mermaid pose went... down the drain.

| Special Notes: Yes, the seagulls are from Finding Nemo and there's a little comment about Saleen from the Aladdin series in Azul's part. And on top of everything... I couldn't control myself with the water-related jokes lmao |

#twisted wonderland #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #octavinelle x reader #octatrio #twst x reader #twst headcanons #twst imagines #twst fluff #cherry's writing #cherry's harvesting

[foundfamilynonsense]

I’ve been seeing some posts saying that Hobie was not an instant fav but won them over quickly and I realized I had a similar experience. So I started thinking about why.

And a few people brought up that his comic book intro used very dry sarcasm that might have come off badly to some but I don’t think that’s it (at least it wasn’t for me)

And then I realized: I didn’t like Hobie at first bc he was being set up as the third in a love triangle between Miles and Gwen.

I don’t care if Miles and Gwen get together (in fact I would prefer they don’t) but there are few things I think ruin a story more than a love triangle (no matter how small a part it takes in the plot). Especially in this movie bc all it would have done is make Miles feel intimidated and whiny.

So Miles is already jealous bc hey Gwen stays over some guy’s dimension :(

and then! Pavitr picks up on something between Gwen and Miles and says “does he know about Hobie”

Which to me said that Gwen and Hobie were actually in a relationship. Or starting one.

Then we meet Hobie. And there’s a whole montage where he’s basically like “yea this is the coolest character ever” and you think oh fantastic. This character exists only so Miles will be annoying and jealous for the rest of the movie.

But then that DOESNT HAPPEN. And of course it doesn’t. Because you actually meet Hobie and if one thing is certain about this character it’s that he could never be in a love triangle bc he is acutely aware that he has two hands.

And then he turns out to be the mentor archetype of the movie. He is out there not only teaching but giving gifts. (The new bracelets). Which is one of the main things with mentor archetypes.

He is not a new barrier between Gwen and Miles. He has replaced Peter B’s role as the mentor of the group. Because this is a harder challenge and calls for a mentor with a sharper edge.

And part of me is going “why would the writers underplay him up front like this?” But the rest of me is going “of course the writers misdirected the audience at the beginning”.

Bc Hobie’s whole thing is misdirection. He doesn’t look or feel like they typical mentor we see in movies. He seems like an interesting character, maybe a little comic relief. But being underrated is how he managed to save the day at the end. And while I think Pavitr’s line might have been taking the misdirection a step too far (we already had it, now I’m wondering why Pavitr thinks Hobie and Gwen are together), it was a great way to handle the character.

I just… wanna stick him under a microscope. I wanna write a thesis on him. What a cool way to shake up some well known archetypes.

#across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse spoilers #hobie brown #spiderverse

[itsyagurlchip]

WAIT I SENT THE ASK TOO EARLYA AUWHAUDHDEKDVW

how is the original bone skeleton man doing?? OH OH AND is the setting the usual portal opening in the house and bam you've got new uncles or something else??? YAIOEPEPWLWKWPWBAOAV

buckle up, cuz this is super long yall 🥲

OKAY!!! THIS IS WHERE MY "INTERESTING" PART COMES IN 😁 monsters are just coming to the surface, and speciesism is as high as ever. after a year of this, queen toriel decides to open a human-monster program, something that also promotes her small school.

monsters adopt humans! ebbot was a bit iffy on it, but after realizing the benefits the mayor eventually agreed. (jk that nigga only wants the money 💀-) It was hard to get the program started, because many schools and orphanages werent as trusting, and the state wasn't fundinh it at all. So Toriel took a different approach.

Many monsters put their savings into it, considering their currency is literal fucking gold, and the program would allow each child to get $1000+ per month, depending on their age and needs. and yes giving kids thousands of dollars per year doesn't sound like a good idea, but shhhhh! the plot my dear!

The monsters who take care of them aren't allowed to use it themselves in selfish situations. Both the child and the guardian has rules.

one) you guys have to interact in some way. whether it be verbally, or even physically. two) NOTHING 18+, as all children being minors, that would be kinda weird. three) follow laws as follows- just dont be a shitty parent. four) the child has to want to participate as well, and cant do anything to hurt the guardian. including verbally (bc monster souls are made of feelings pretty much [thats another hc for another day])

id love to go deeper into the details, yet i however cannot bc i dont know how a parent-child program works.

and you have to be in the program for 1 month before you or the child wants to back out.

doesn't matter if its one-sided or not, when someone doesn't like it it immediately stops. id like to say that frisk and papyrus put most if their money into this, just so she can be adopted by toriel.

so when papyrus sees that gaster and sans have been stuck in the lab (not the basement!) for globs of hours at a time, sporadic sleeping, and overall exhaustion from work, he says the craziest shit

"SINCE YOU TWO ARE NERD BUMS, AND I CAN'T ALWAYS BE AT HOME FOR YOU TWO, I ADOPTED A HUMAN CHILD!!"

sans, in his sleep deprived state, promptly rose an eyebrow and fell out of his chair onto his side.

yea, its not that he didn't take the thing well, bro couldn't process it 💀💀

gaster just rolled his only visible eyelight and went back to work

....

well that worked well!!

reader arrived to the house the next day, and seeing that it was a two story house!?!?

AND there was an in-law suite? fuck yea! orphan kid made the jackpot 💥💥😼

they had fuckin steps too les goo!!

Your dark skin shined against the light of the sun, your brown eyes sparkling in excitement.

reader let go of papyrus's hand and ran inside immediately.

Careful as to not smudge your dirty shoes against the shiney floor, you looked around the house in amazement. This place had to have atleast 5 rooms!

and then the in law suite on the side looked like another 2 rooms!?? BEST DAY OF YOUR LIFE!!

Not only did you have super nice guardians (you hoped), they were packed enough to keep you and themselves stabilized!! Hell, if theirs more people, they could support them aswell!!

Taking off your shoes, you looked around the living room. The long couch was green, albiet a bit patchy for a nice place, while the tan side couches could lean back!!

where those outlets on the sides? omg

"HAVING FUN DEAR HUMAN CHILD?" Papyrus smirked. He knew that the house of the Great Papyrus was enough to impress anyone, even of young ages.

"You guys are so rich!! wow- i mean, not that im tryna take your money or anything, but like- WOW!! Its so big!! Bigger than anything ive ever been to!" You were now flapping your hands and bouncing a bit. Your locs of hair bounced in it's pony tail no matter how small the fidget-hop was.

Behind the living room was a beautiful and lavish kitchen, and to the right there was the steps. To the right it looked like some like of master bedroom or guest bathroom.

But you didn't care about rooms right now, you wanted to see your other guardians!!

"Where are the other people im supposed to be meeting? Are you my only guardian or do they have to take care of me too? Are they mean? Are they bums? I hope they dont smoke or something, Do they have an addiction? What about-"

"THAT!, DEAR CHILD, IS GOING TO BE FOR INTRODUCTIONS!! DO NOT WORRY, WHILE THOSE TWO MAY BE GRUMPS, THEY ARE PLEASANT PEOPLE TO BE AROUND...EVEN IF THE LACK OF SLEEP TAKES THEIR PLEASANT PERSONALITY AWAY..." Papyrus concluded. You noticed that, despite the way he tried to talk to himself, you still heard it loud and clearly.

Maybe he had a hard time with volume control. meh.

Grabbing your hand and leading you towards the back door next to the kitchen, Papyrus opened the door. He had to lean down a bit in order to hold your hand, but he didn't mind.

The hallway was looooong. Instead of it being regular walls, it was glass windows of different colors. Which made you raise an eyebrow abit.

Seeing your reaction, the tall skeleton explained, "SINCE WE DO NOT HAVE ENOUGH SPACE FOR EXPERIMENTAL ACTIVITY, TOTALLY NOT BOMBS, MY BROTHER AND FATHER DECIDED TO LIVE IN THE SUITE!" He said, walking and talking.

You both reached the end of the hallway, hearing mumblings, ramblings, and overall terms that lowkey hurt your brain.

Getting too excited, you open the door to a glass-based lab. With the occasional plastic and metal equipment.

In the middle of the room there was an island counter filled was rainbow colored stuff ('gay as hell' , you sniggered), small green candies, and lots and lots if paper and pencils sharpened to the ends.

At one end of the room, there was a tall skeleton, a little shorter than Papyrus, who was more goop than skeleton. Infact, he looked like someone took a fire torch to his upper body, but you didn't say anything.

At the other end, there was a short skeleton, probably shorter than you (hah, being 5'0 did pay off), laying with his head on the desk, knocked out with blue slob. You marveled at the sight, wanting to know more about monsters at this revelation.

"FATHER! BROTHER! THIS IS THE CHILD I ADOPTED FOR ALL OF US!" Papyrus announced, grinning undauntedly. The smaller skeleton banged his head on the desk at the loud voice, while the other one barely flinched and turned slowly in irritation. "INTRODUCE YOURSELVES WHILE I MAKE LUNCH FOR THE GROWING FETUS!" He declared, marching out with a big smile.

If this plan went correctly, then his favorite family members would be mentally stable (as much as one could try- he thought to himself).

after banging his head on the damned table, sans sat up a bit disoriented.

why was there a human child in the house?

why was it in the lab?

"uhh kid, ur not supposed be here...uhh, its not safe and uh, you could die."

"WOW! Your so freakin cool! How do you talk without moving your face? Are you wearing a mask? I could die here! ooh shiney stuff, can i touch it?"

yea.. this kid has not had a proper friend in a minute

he was overwhelmed by the questions you asked at first, he didn't answer them at all in favor of watching gaster struggle to calm you down.

sans didn't mind how loud you were, it was moreso the curiosity that you brought along with you.

that wouldn't do.

"Hey! What's this?" the kid asked, walking towards the machine that could very much possibly cause the heat death of the universe, before getting snatched up by gaster.

"Enough! you are here to introduce yourself, and you will do as such" It was funny to see the man twitch like that. sans likes this kid already.

After knowing your name and age, sans was a bit surprised.

he honestly thought you were younger.

while introducing himself he tried to keep it simple and short. how old is he?

"how old am i old man?"

His blue slippers shifted from the movement of his ankle bones.

he thought you were just an average kid, but something about you was different.

oddly enough you always wore these earrings saying Y on the right and N on the left.

he wonder what it meant

Now its a week past since you came into the 'haunted house', aka the skele-dungeon

you two play pranks against gaster when he has free time. watching him bounce his leg in irritation every time he finds a lima bean in his notes is pure gold.

since you're virtual, due to your choice, he tries to take you places.

some of the most consistent ones are dance class every saturday and neighborhood walks you take by yourself.

I think of sans is the type of person to give less of a shit about his dad.

mostly because if the way he approaches things, iN tHE NaME oF sCIeNcE

it pisses him off everytime he tries to ask you for a blood sample

and it makes him even angrier when you say yes without a second thought.

but despite that, he cares about gaster.

but he wants to choke him out being his first son.

Despite being constantly sleep deprived, he makes time for this little new joy in his life.

Back then he's sleep at his desk, especially when his magic reserves were too low to shortcut.

But now, and you thought he didn't notice, you carry him to the living room of the main house and turn the tv volume down to 9 when you cant fall asleep.

another thing you both have in common

More often than not, you both find each other at the odd hours if the night.

since he can barely cook shit, it's mostly you making the midnight snacks

he appreciates the food you make for him, despite him initially coming to get a 10 1/2 ounce bag of chips

other times you guys will sit in the living room in silence

occasionally he'll find himself rambling to you about physics, specifically quantum, so he can keep his memory up.

sans likes the way you treat his brother.

as an uncle and not a childish cousin.

You may not be able to keep up with Papyrus's schedules and puzzles

but when you can, you two shine this wholesome light on the whole house that makes sans's soul ache lovingly.

Papyrus likes to take you out for walks more than him, or you'll both hang out in the backyard next to the glass hallway of the suite.

on his breaks, he'll find you two doing silly things

like rolling in the grass

or trying to carry each other.

without being able to admit it, sans and papyrus feel a new joy in their life.

and they got a cool kid to come with it :)

Gaster and sans were in the lab when his father said the most dumbest shit his nonexistent ears could ever listen to

gaster was never fully succumbed into the void, as sans had saved him before anything totally horrible happened.

hence his melted face and arms.

but he saw something, or rather somethings, that his meticulous little nerd brain has been hyperfiaxting on since the child came.

"Let's discover new universes!"

sans was just like 'naw, jit crazy'

so gaster fucks around with the machine for a while in secret while sans is frolicking with his newly adopted child.

ew, children.

but he guesses that she's okay, despite her adamant queries (hehe).

and soon enough, the machine made that man find out after he fucked around

Now that the machine stopped pouring in different variants of his children, this only made gaster more excited to use the machine.

sans on the other hand was fuckin freaking out.

the damn geezer did it

but not only that, there are aggressive ass versions of him who are willing to kill a child and that wont go.

sans is not gonna give on the things that bring him joy that easy.

*insert battle sequence*

ok so he got his ass whooped, no biggie.

and now his adopted child is befriending them. great.

annnddd now his brother is taking care of them. even better.

AANNNDD now his father is too interested in them to try and find a way to send them back. AMAZING!

bro wants to jump off a roof at this point

to be honest, he doesn't like the other versions of himself.

Theyre different possibilities of what could've happened currently and he already thinks about that enough.

but, reader likes them, so he gives them a pass.

but if they hurt her...or even worse, his brother...

he wont need the machine to figure out a way to take them out of this world.

KITTY!! THANK U SM!!! ✨❤️✨❤️✨🫣❤️🫣❤️ EKKK!! YOU GUYS BRING ME SUCH JOY 😋😋😋 YAYAYAYAYYAYAYAYAYAYATATATTATATATTATATATATATTATATATTATATATATTATATATA IM SO HAPPY!! YHSHABDGSIWKSBHSUWBWHAISNEGEYGSBAOWOAMQNWHUDBRYDUBJQIBSGATUWOWUEHRBXKMXBSYSJBSBZ-

i know the reader sounds super excited rn, which is sorta unexpected for an orphan centered fic, in the official thing you're gonna see a less than..nice attitude from them.

btw i wanna make a house plan to this can make more sense for your guys. ohhhhhhhh- IM TOO DAMN EXCITED 😋😋💕 i prolly gotta learn skeleton anatomy too-

@kittykittyanon @radicallxser @oleander-nin @towomatos @thealphagirl @ziipzeepzop-eez @amorvincitomnia-14 @spongejuice @cyb3r-st4r. if you would like to be added, check my blog. if you would like to be added, check my blog. SEE? I SAID IT TWICE!!

#yagurlchip❤️ #sans x reader #but reader is a child and its strictly platonic #child reader #undertale #undertale au #undertale multiverse #sans au #au sans #ut au #underverse #sans undertale #papyrus #toriel #frisk #gaster #dadster #or grandpaster in our case #poc reader #black reader #gn reader #but afab #yagurl writes