#didn't need them for the chapter per se but like come ON

[luciferlightbringer]

Love in a Hopeless Place

Chapter 9

I'm sorry for being so evil... Just kidding, here is a little more pain before it gets better 😘

Chapter 8|Chapter 9|Chapter 10|Updated through Chapter 12

Lucifer x prostitute fem!reader Word Count: 3.9k CW: Slowburn, Angst, Prostitution, Hurt/comfort, trauma, fluff, depression, anxiety, insecurity, alcohol/intoxication, fuckboi flirting

You get to the hotel and check in, it wasn't crazy fancy or anything, but it was nice, quieter, didn't reek of sex and drugs. You got up to the hotel room and, maybe because you were somewhere that didn't remind you of all of the pain from the night before, you were able to flop on the bed and fall asleep. You slept without any dreams, not a healing sleep per-se, but you had caught up on the sleep you had lost from the night before.

You look at your phone, damn, you basically slept your first day of vacation away. Oh well, vacations don't need to be productive. You stare up and the ceiling, your mind wandering from what you should do, back to Lucifer. You wonder how his day was, he probably knew his next few appointments were canceled at this point, would he be mad or disappointed? Would he remember what happened last night?

You shake your head and growl at yourself, tugging at your own hair in frustration, 'Why do I fucking care so much?!' You got up and paced the room. You ran your hands up your face and through your hair as you walked over to the window, and pressed your forehead to the glass looking out at your view for the next few days. You saw a few restaurants, bars, and stores that littered the main drag, until the name of one grabbed your attention, and made you chuckle.

"Rock Bottom, huh? Feels appropriate for tonight," you say out loud to yourself as you change into more appropriate "out in public" clothes. You were feeling like a loser, but at least you didn't want to look like one. You grabbed your purse, strapped on some heels, and hopped across the street to the bar that felt it aligned with how you felt about life at the moment.

The bar was a dive, but it was not bad. There was a chill downstairs and a spiral staircase off to one side that twisted up to another floor with some flashing colored lights and some guys singing some sad and off-pitch karaoke. Yup, this was the vibe for the night. Luckily, this bar did not seem super crowded and you were able to find a seat with ample space over near the side of the bar to set yourself at.

The bartender saw you and nodded in your direction while they were finishing a couple of drinks. "Be right with you in just a moment, sweetheart," the woman said while juggling her bottles and shakers.

"No problem," you said with a tired smile. You watched the woman flip and spin the bottles as the customers in front of her watched with excitement. You loved watching bartenders who could do cool tricks, it was not a requirement for their job of course, but you were sure it got them more tips and it always made you hope that they enjoyed what they did. Or maybe they were just trying to give themself some amount of joy in their hellhole of a job working with drunk people and their bullshit.

Eventually she passed off the drinks to the customers, tossed her towel over her shoulder, and headed over to you.

"Thanks for waiting, welcome to Rock Bottom, what can I get ya?" the woman asked you. She gave off a "cool biker mom" kinda vibe, lots of tattoos and piercings all over her, a biker looking vest and short cropped slicked back black hair with one big pink streak jutting back from her right temple, all being held back by a red bandana.

"Just a long island iced tea, please," you said softly.

"Ah, one of those nights huh?" She said cocking an eyebrow, "No problem, coming right up."

You lean more on the bar, "What do you mean by that?" you say with a sly smile and a squint.

The bartender waved her hand, "I'm sorry, you're not one of my regulars, I shouldn't joke so bluntly right off the bat. Normally, the heavier the starting drink, the more sorrow the customer is trying to drown out."

"Hmm. Well, you're observations are quiet astute, as that is exactly why I ordered it," you say with a cocky smile.

"Well, the down on their luck do happen to be our target audience," the woman says flipping her shaker and bottles again, "May I ask what we are drowning today?"

You make a raspberry sound and then rub your face.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," the woman said to you.

You laugh, "No it's fine, just hard to sum up in a quick statement. Just... work bullshit and... I don't know... utter fucking confusion of my life and what to do."

The woman nods sympathetically, "Sounds like hell." She looks at you, you both crack a smile and laugh. She hands you your drink.

"Sure is Hell... Just... almost felt like I had escaped it for a little... But anyways... I won't bother you more with my bullshit," you say looking down at your drink and taking it in your hands.

The woman shrugged, "Hell doesn't got therapists, bartenders are as close as they come. Name's Brooklyn if you need anything else, sweetheart." Brooklyn said, flipping the towel over her shoulder again as she went to greet another new guest who had settled on the other side of the bar. By the way Brooklyn greeted them, they looked like a regular.

You sipped on your drink and people watched for a while. As the night went on, you ordered some food and a few more drinks, watching people some and go. The room started to fill up with more patrons.

At one point, you saw a young Imp couple come in and snuggle into a booth together, kissing and snuggling, happily tipsy and enjoying each other's company. You sighed, you missed Lucifer and the way he would hold you. You wished it was real, you wished you could figure out if anything about your relationship with him was real. It also still drove you crazy trying to figure out why you would want it to be real. It was just a job... right?

Eventually, some drunk guy sauntered up to you. 'Oh boy, here we go.'

"Hey hot stuff, what are you doing moping over here by yourself, you're to sexy to be sad," he slurred at you, leaning on the bar.

You sighed, turned on your barstool and kicked one leg over the other, "Actually, I'm just sexy enough to be sad, thank you very much. Also... just out of curiosity, does this tactic ever work for you? The whole drunken loser with a backhanded compliment shtick?" You cock and eyebrow and smile.

"Wha- pffttt. Wow, why you gotta be such a bitch? I was just wanting to show you a fun time," he said leaning more into your face.

"Oh ya? And what would that look like? A minute of disappointing fingering and unimaginative attempts at dirty talk followed by five minutes of lack-luster penetration, doggy style with my unstimulated, unenthused, bone dry cooch while you scream "You like that you dirty little slut? You like how daddy fucks your tight little pussy, babygirl?" before you combust and roll over saying you are too tired to even attempt to make me feel any amount of pleasure, let alone getting me off? That kind of fun time?" you say giving him a smug smile.

The man in front of you just stares at you slack-jawed, so mad and confused he did not know what to say. You smirk, kick one of your heels up onto the middle of his chest, "That little bit of fun public degradation is the most fun we will be having tonight. Now get out of my face." You say as you push your foot against his chest, sending the man toppling backwards into a few onlookers that parted to let him drop to the floor and flail. You get a couple of whistles, claps, and hollers as you turn back to your drink.

Brooklyn stood at your end of the bar with a big smile on her face, "Well then! I was about to get ready to tell him to piss off, but you seem to have already handled it."

You shrug, "Men like him know they have no chance with shit like lines like that. They know they are going to get shut down and honestly, they love being put in their place. It's a kink for them, even if they would never want to admit it outright. I did him a favor really. If he is able to remember any of that interaction tomorrow, he'll have jerk off material for weeks." You say looking at him still splayed out on the floor.

Brooklyn howled with laughter, "Wow! That's incredible! Hey, do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"No, I won't do you next," you say, you and Brooklyn erupt into more laugher. "Sorry, yes, ask away."

"Are you a sex worker?" Brooklyn asked. You nod. "Nice! My ex-girlfriend used to be a sex worker and she used to be able to mentally bulldoze men like that, so I was just curious. It's always so fun to watch."

"Guilty as charged, but I'm off the clock for a few days," you say.

"Ah, very good. Doing anything fun?" Brooklyn asked.

You picked up your cup and shook it.

"Just drink away your sorrows? Sounds like a bummer of a vacation," she says wiping down the counter.

You shrugged and sighed, "I just... have some things I need to figure out. Just needed some space for a few days."

She leaned on the bar, "Space from what, if I may be so bold?"

You nod, "Ehhh, it's... not something I can talk about with others."

She shrugged, "Fair enough. I'm here every day if you change your mind."

"Thanks." You finish up a couple more drinks, happily drunk and numb, thanked Brooklyn and paid for your evening, and waddled your way back to the hotel before passing out for the night.

______________________________________________________________

The next morning you wake up with a hangover, which you expected, but it was worth it. You scroll through your phone for a while, but eventually you realize that you aren't actually looking at anything , just scrolling just to scroll. You sigh and stare at the ceiling of the hotel room, the thoughts of your issue with Lucifer drifting back.

You eventually feel the thoughts start to frustrate you and you start to cry. Why was this so hard?! The thoughts did not seem to want to organize themself into anything helpful, just stagnated in place in your mind, floating around like milk soaked Cheerios. Hells, you wish you could talk to someone, literally anyone about your issues, but you couldn't. You ended up getting up and pacing again until you ended up pressing your forehead against the cold window again. You looked out at all of the stores and people walking around, until your eyes landed on the Rock Bottom. You smiled, thinking about Brooklyn and the drunk guy from the night before.

Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in your head. Brooklyn, you COULD talk to Brooklyn! You just could not give her exact details like Lucifer, Charlie, the hotel, but you could talk to her about it in more general terms. Yes! This was the answer! Well... if Brooklyn was serious about being someone that you could talk to. It... wouldn't hurt to at least ask, right?

You quickly got dressed and popped back across the street to the Rock Bottom. You walked inside the bar, it was a lot more slow during the day, but there were still a few customers scattered around the downstairs area. You saw a young man at the bar, but no Brooklyn. You were disappointed not to see her.

"Hey there!" the young man called out to you, "Welcome in, how can I help you?"

"Hey... sorry, umm... I was kinda looking to see if Brooklyn was here. I can come back later," you start to turn to leave.

"Oh! No she is here, she's just in the back. I'll go get her for you!" the young man said before disappearing into the back. A few minutes later, Brooklyn emerged from the back storage room, and smiled when she saw you.

"Ah! Afternoon, sweetheart. How are you doing today?" Brooklyn smiled.

"Hey! I'm doing... alright... Hope I'm not interrupting anything," you say rubbing your arm.

Brooklyn waved a hand, "Don't worry about it, just doing inventory, earlier to do during the day when it's slower. What can I do for you?"

"Well..." you start, looking at the floor, then balled your hands into fits to get yourself to ask, "Did you mean what you said about being here... if I needed to talk?"

Brooklyn smiled, and looked at her watch, "I'm sure I can squeeze you in for an appointment, you good waiting for my lunchbreak?"

You waved you hands, "Oh! I don't want to take away from your lunch break! Plus, I don't want you to get in trouble or anything with your boss."

Brooklyn laughed, you looked at her confused, "Sweetheart, I am the boss, I can do what I want, and right now, I want to hear about what's got you sulking to my part of town and drowning your sorrows in my bar." You smiled and nodded, you don't know what it was about her, but you trusted her. She kinda reminded you of your grandmother, in the cool spunky kinda way, also maybe a little bit of how you used to be with your siblings. You waited about an hour and a half at the bar to finish up her inventory, and then you and her went up to a little balcony on the second level of the bar.

"Welcome to my office, now tell me miss... oh fuck... I just realized I've never asked your name," Brooklyn said embarrassed.

You laughed, "It's ok, it's (y/n)."

"Well alright, miss (y/n). What's going on?"

You start, without giving away exact details, tell Brooklyn the tale of the last several months, getting hired by a powerful person to secretly be their prostitute, the sex turning into nights of supports on both sides, helping them reconnect with their child and helping them achieve their goals, how they defended you against an abusive client, you left out the extermination fight but did mention that they were wanting to keep you safe during that event, and finally the night that brought you here. The whole time, Brooklyn listened intently, nodding and sometimes asking a clarifying question or two.

At the end of that all, Brooklyn sighed. "I can see why you'd be feeling overwhelmed right now. It would be confusing to love someone and got some drunk inducted, confusing confirmation of returned feeling while in a weird role/power dynamic with them."

You nodded, "Ya..." you blinked as you processed what she had said, "Wait... what?"

She looked at you and raised an eyebrow, "What?"

You stared at her, "I... I never said I loved him."

She nodded, "Yes you did."

You stared at her, "When???"

She smiled, "With every word you said about this person, how you treated them, how you felt about how they treated you... You do love them, right?"

You thought through everything, every look, every touch, every nickname, every night in his arms, every time he showed up in your room, the way he protected you, the way you thought of him when we were alone or with other clients, the way you felt being with him and Charlie at the hotel, the unbridled fear you felt at him telling him telling you he loved you. Why you cared if you lost him. It was all because you were afraid of losing the love you felt from him. The love you felt for him.

You loved him, you loved Lucifer.

Tears poured from your eyes as the realization sunk into you. You turned to look at Brooklyn, "Oh my god... I love him."

Brooklyn laughed, "Did you not realize until just now?"

You shook your head, the tears getting heavier, "No!" you choked out, your breath heaving, "I've never knew love could feel like this. I've never felt this before!" You start to crumple inward as the tears overtake you.

Brooklyn's smile faded, "Oh sweetheart," she pulled you into a hug as you sobbed. You tried to apologize and she just shushed you.

After you calmed down, you sigh, "Ok but... how do I know if he actually loves me?"

"He does," Brooklyn said.

"How do you know?" you sniffle.

She gives you a look, "Girl, how many guys that hire hookers introduce them to their daughters and then keep bringing them around their daughter and her friends?"

You blinked.

"And if that isn't enough, he beat up another client that hurt you. He doesn't just love you. He is down bad for you," Brooklyn smiled.

"And you're sure?" you ask.

Brooklyn nodded, "100%, on my afterlife, or may Satan take my bar."

You sniffled again and laughed, "Well, I wouldn't want Satan to take over your bar... I don't know him, but I get the feeling he wouldn't be as good of a bartender as you." You and Brooklyn laugh.

You look out from the balcony, thinking about how somewhere far away, on the other side of the circle, Lucifer, the King of Hell, was in love with you. Maybe thinking about you. Missing you. It made your heart ache, thinking of how you had run away from him, when you now realize he was probably just too scared to tell you how he felt.

"Do you think he'll be mad at me for running away from him?" you ask Brooklyn.

She shook her head, "If he is any man worth keeping, and if there really is that much of a power dynamic difference, he'll understand why you did what you did."

You nod. At this point, Brooklyn had to go back to work. You hung out at the bar the rest of the night, not getting nearly as drunk this time.

The next two days, you would go back to the bar during Brooklyn's breaks to talk through new thoughts and insecurities, and Brooklyn would softly but firmly refute each one. Damn, is this what therapy was like in the living world? Life would have turned out different maybe if this was something you had back then. Oh well, it's too late now.

On your last day, you packed up your room and went to say goodbye to Brooklyn, she gave you a hug and wished you goodbye. Telling you that you were always welcome to come back and talk, and that she expected an invite to the wedding if it worked out. You both laughed.

Soon, it was time to get int the car and head back home, back to the Lounge, back to Lucifer.

_____________________________________________________________

A little bit later, you arrived back at the Lounge. You got out of the car, headed up to your room to drop off your bag, then headed downstairs to see Larry and tell him you were back.

You found Larry and he smiled to see you, "Babydoll! I'm so glad you're back. How're ya feeling?"

You smiled, "Much better, thank you for being patient with me."

"Of course! Now, here is your rescheduled appointments for tomorrow," he said handing you a list. You looked through, and were disappointed to not see "Lance" in his usual time. You looked up at Larry.

"No Lance?"

Larry shook his head, "We called him and let him know you were going on vacation, and he said he would call back when he wanted to reschedule." Ok, no problem. You could get that, maybe he just didn't want to jump on when you were going to be getting home from your break. Ya, that sounds like something he would do. He loved you, right? You could be patient.

You were patient... as days turned to weeks, and Lucifer did not call to schedule with you. Every day you lost more hope, life slipped back into the way it was before you had ever known him. Cynthhhhia watched you from the shadows of the brothel, pleased to see your decent into misery as she started to get more well paying client's again. Sure, playing nice with the customers did pay off, but so did knocking Larry's favorite girl off of her groove. And the best part? No, one would ever know.

One day you looked out the window of your apartment and sighed, "Guess you were wrong after all, Brooklyn. Looks like Satan will be coming for the bar after all."

You wanted to laugh at the idea of Satan trying to run a bar, but all you could do was cry as your newly discovered heart was now broken.

Serves you right for thinking that love was actually possible in such a hopeless place.

______________________________________________________________

Charlie's phone rang, she looked over to see her dad's ID pop up on her phone. She scrambled to pick it up, she had called him several times over the last couple of week and he had not been answered. It had her worried, he had not done this since before his visit to the hotel that brought them back together.

"Dad! Hi! It's so good to see you call. Are you ok?" Charlie asked.

Lucifer cleared his throat on the other end of the phone, "O-Oh course! Why, why would anything be the matter?"

"Uhh... because you haven't answered any of my calls in weeks? Also you and (y/n) were basically here every day and now I haven't seen either of you..." Charlie waited for a moment, Lucifer struggled to figure out what to say. Hearing your name made his heart sear with pain.

"Oh uh... we've uh... it's just been busy." Lucifer said.

"Dad, did something happened?" Charlie pleaded.

"I... I'm sorry sweetie, I can't talk about this right now. I was just calling to see if you could go to a meeting for me? Please?" Lucifer pouted. That was not a good sign. Something must have happened, but now did not seem like a good time to press, not over the phone anyway.

Charlie sighed, "Ok Dad, on one condition."

Lucifer paused, "That condition being???"

"Just... just come visit sometime this week, come have dinner with me? Please?" Charlie pleaded again.

Lucifer sighed, he may not have you, but he did still have his daughter, he couldn't lose that again, "Ok, I will."

"Great! I'll see you later! Text me the details of the meeting. I love you, Dad."

Lucifer told Charlie he loved her too, then Charlie hung up, and turned to see Vaggie, Angel, Husk, Alastor, and Niffty all looking at her in anticipation.

"What kin'a scheme you cookin' up now, Princess?" Angel asked.

"Well, would anyone up for a little, community "Emotional Intervention" bonding?" Charlie was met with a room full of mischievous, sharp, approving smiles.

______________________________________________________________

You guys, the Cynthhhhia hate is giving me LIFE, I'm so happy how much y'all hate her. Keep up with the ideas, how should she be brought to justice? 😈 As usual, leave a comment if you want added to the taglist so that you can get notifications when future chapters drop! xoxo, dany (OMG there are so many of you!😍 Please let me know if the tag isn't working for you) Taglist :(red names are not tagging for some reason 😢)@froggybich @wonderlandangelsposts @glowinthedarkbones1150 @marydragneell @crescent-z @superdinosaurnacho @jam0001 @kyo-kyo1 @so-get-this-sammy @lilzebeth @kelppsstuff @loquacious-libra @pinkhoneydrop @luleck @writer-girl99 @lavenz @stormz369 @littleladydemon @soujiswife @melday0105 @luluxx118 @sseleniaa @futureittomainn @cktkat @zaneyyyy @uravitsy @liecoris @starlitvenus @hannahrose130 @elleofdragons @butch-medusae @concentratedconcrete @erosamasan @stranger-chan @aquaamethyst96 @lxkeee @holyspacething @hulyenl @leximus98 @lu-ferri12 @mixplara @katnisspeetaprim @rebecca-hvnstn @roboticsuccubus83 @nekemewlita @femboyfatalle @thelethex @cryptidghostgirl @snowlotr @bangchansdirty-slut @glowymxxn @mcueveryday @hotvillianapologist @oneiric-rotaerc

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #fanfic #fanfic writing #lucifer x y/n #lucifer fanfiction #hazbin lucifer #lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer hazbin #fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfiction #slow burn #angst #it will get better

[hbyrde36]

NOW COMPLETE!!!

For my beloved @penny00dreadful 💜🖤

My fandom bestie, writing soulmate, and one of my absolute favorite people in the entire world.

Happy (early) Birthday 🌈👠💖

Huge thanks to @pearynice and @hitlikehammers for all your help in making this story come to life!

WC: 3483 | Ch 1/4 | AO3 <-

Chapter 1: Over the Rainbow

To be perfectly honest, Steve always felt a little unsafe riding around in the van with Eddie. It wasn’t that he was a bad driver, per se, but he was definitely a distracted one, constantly needing to be reminded to keep his eyes on the road instead of the tape deck. He also tended to treat speed limits as more of a suggestion than something enforceable by law.

Tonight was no exception, the feeling of unease even worse than usual because of the storm raging outside. They shouldn’t have even been on the road in these conditions, a fact Steve had tried in vain to convince Eddie of. Hawkins was under a tornado warning for fuck’s sake! But the other boy wouldn’t hear it, their errand was too important.

They had plenty of beer, but they needed snacks. 

According to Eddie there was absolutely no way they could enjoy Friday the 13th part 27, or whatever ridiculous number sequel it was that he wanted to watch, properly without the three basic food groups: Pringles, Twizzlers, and some form of chocolate.

They were having a movie night, just him and Eddie. It was no big deal, really. Steve wasn’t nervous about it at all. They’d been getting along fine since Vecna had been defeated, better than fine! They just… hadn’t spent a lot of one-on-one time together. 

Typically, at least Robin, and some-or-all of the kids, would join them on a night like this, but the kids were set on going to the arcade, and Robin—who’d finally gotten over her fear of driving and managed to get her license on the first try—was taking Vickie out for what may or may not be a date, and borrowing Steve’s car to do it.

Therein lay the source of the problem, actually. It was usually Robin’s job to procure movie night snacks, and in her absence neither of them had thought to pick up the slack.

Which is what had led them to this moment. 

Flying down the road at 15 miles per hour over the posted speed limit, minimum, in a fucking downpour, at night. They were just asking for a deer or some shit to come bounding across the road and then—BAM!

As if on cue, just as Steve had the thought, something did indeed dart out from the side of the road to cross in front of them. Fortunately, for once, Eddie was actually paying attention. He slammed on the brakes, simultaneously jerking the wheel, allowing them to narrowly miss hitting the poor wild animal. 

Unfortunately, that combination of evasive maneuvers caused them to spin out, and sent the van careening into a ditch on the side of the road. The vehicle flipped, and Steve had just enough time to think how glad he was that they’d both been wearing their seatbelts, before something from the rear came flying up to smack him hard in the back of the head. 

-

Steve came to slowly, blinking awake, wincing as the bright light of day attacked his retinas. 

Day?

But it’d been night, hadn’t it? It was dark, and it was raining, and…

The evening before came back to him in a sudden rush. The van sliding across the road, the sickening crunch of metal as it rolled, gravity doing what gravity does. He didn't remember anything after that, but it looked like somehow they’d managed to land upright in the end at least.

He rubbed at the nape of his neck, pleasantly surprised to find no lumps, bumps, or blood, nor did he feel the telltale nausea that sometimes came with a really bad blow to the head. He wondered if Eddie– 

Oh my god, Eddie!

Steve looked to the left, finding the driver's seat empty and was instantly gripped by panic. He scrambled out of the car, nearly falling on his ass in his hurry.

“Eddie?” He called out, fear churning in his gut. “Eddie?!”

He spun a circle, relief washing over him as he found the other boy only a few feet away. 

Eddie was sitting on a large tree trunk, rocking ever-so-slightly back and forth, gnawing on his fingernails as he stared at the backside of the van.

“There you are! Dude, you scared the shit out of–” Steve trailed off as he rushed to Eddie’s side to see what he was looking at, and swallowed hard. It was a pair of legs in striped stockings wearing a killer pair of red heels, sticking out from under the rear tires. The shoes glittered cheerfully in the sunlight. “Oh, fuck.”

Eddie dropped his head into his hands. “I thought I swerved in time. I thought we missed it.”

“I thought it was a deer.” Steve mumbled.

Eddie cut him an annoyed glare. “Clearly not, Harrington.”

“Hey,” Steve said softly. He knew Eddie well enough by now to tell when he was scared—when he felt guilty, even if he was trying to act otherwise. “This isn’t your fault. It was an accident.”

“Yeah,” Eddie huffed. “Tell that to the cops! They thought I was a murderer once already. It’s only been a few months where I can actually be seen in public without someone calling me a devil worshiper, or worse. Now they’ll think they have proof that I really am a killer!”

“You know Hop will go to bat for you again, and I’m here. I can be a witness.”

“That’s not all.” 

“It somehow gets worse than us accidentally killing some lady?”

Eddie sighed, raking a hand over his face as he rose from the stump. He turned, gesturing to something behind them, but Steve was still stuck on those legs. He couldn’t look away. 

“Why the hell was someone out in shoes like that in the middle of the night anyway?” Steve mused. “It was pouring.” 

“Steve, look.”

“What if we just said I was driving? Then we– “

“Steve!” Eddie gripped his upper arms, forcibly turning him around. 

Steve’s eyes went wide. They were standing right on the edge of a little town. Little, not only in the way that the town itself was small in, like, area, though it was that—about the size of one city block—but for the fact that all the colorful little buildings and bungalows were miniature. The whole thing was surrounded by gardens laden with all sorts of beautiful plants, shrubs, and trees, with flowers of every shade in bloom.

“What the fuck,” Steve breathed, taking a few tentative steps into the vivid village.

“Yeah.”

“Eddie, what the fuck?! Where are we? And why is everything in technicolor?”

Eddie stepped up from behind to clap him on the back. 

“I don’t think we’re in Hawkins anymore, big boy.”

Steve shot him a look over his shoulder. “What was your first clue?”

“I see where Dustin gets his tone from.” Eddie mumbled.

Steve chewed on his bottom lip. “Do you… do you think it’s like the Upside Down?” 

“In the sense that it’s another dimension? Maybe, but I don't get the feeling this one has any terrifying monsters. It’s too clean. It even smells nice, like roses and shit.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. Eddie had a point, nothing about this place screamed danger. “The Upside Down always smelled like mold and rotting flesh.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

“What do we do? How do we get back?” Steve asked, not really expecting Eddie to have all the answers, but he did his best thinking out loud with company. 

“No idea.”

“Should we start walking? Maybe try and find a payphone?”

Eddie scoffed. “A payphone?”

“Do you have any better ideas?”

The other boy was quiet for a moment, a rare occurrence, but eventually threw his hands up in defeat. “No, actually. So, I guess walking it is.”

Steve turned back, intending on pilfering the van for things that might be useful, like water, weapons, or one of the many lighters that littered the floor, when something in the distance caught his eye.  

“What the hell is that?” He asked aloud, pointing up to the sky at a giant pink bubble that was headed straight for them. 

Eddie squinted up at it. “I think there's something inside.”

“Should we run?”

“Maybe we should pop it.”

“You just said there was something inside! Wouldn’t that let it out?”

Eddie shrugged.

In no time, the bubblegum colored sphere settled near them and faded away, leaving behind a woman with long dark wavy hair. She held a long scepter, and wore a tall crown and a poofy ball gown, of all things. There was also something very familiar about her face. 

“Wait.”

“No.”

“Is that?”

“It can’t be.”

“Joyce?!” They both said, in tandem.

The woman in the ballgown tilted her head. “Who’s Joyce?”

“You are.” Steve said. 

She shook her head, offering him a kind smile. “I’m afraid not. I’m Glinda, the Witch of the North, and who might you be?”

Eddie leaned in, speaking out of the corner of his mouth. “Is she serious?”

Steve snorted a laugh, quickly trying to hide it with a cough.

“What’s so funny?” Not-Joyce asked. 

“Nothing, uh, I’m Steve, and this is Eddie.”

She stepped carefully around them, pointing her sparkly stick at the half-a-dead-body that jutted out from under Eddie’s van. “What do you boys have to say for yourselves?”

“I’m sorry?” Eddie said, sobering quickly. At the same time Steve insisted, “It was an accident!”

“Stop giving them a hard time, Glinda. They did us a favor!” A strangely familiar voice called out from behind a nearby bush, and a moment later 6 small-ish figures came popping out of the surrounding foliage.

“They killed The Wicked Witch of the East!” The one with curly hair shouted, as the others cheered.

Eddie jumped. “Jesus H. Christ, where did all you little fuckers come from?!”

“Oh my god.” Steve muttered under his breath.

It was the kids, except they were actually kids. The 11-year-old versions of Dustin, Will, Lucas, Mike, Max, and El pushed and shoved their way past each other, all trying to be the first to approach.

“Who you calling little?” Baby-Lucas said.

“Okay, what the hell is going on here guys? Why are you so young, and what’s with the outfits?” Steve asked, completely dumbfounded.

Once he’d gotten over the initial shock of their appearance, Steve realized they were all wearing costumes or something. The girls wore pink frilly dresses and tall pointed bonnets, something he knew for a fact Max would never have agreed to, and the boys had these funny little shorts with long socks and matching tops—except for Dustin, who donned long pants and an even longer coat, along with a striped bow tie and a giant pocket watch hanging from his side. 

Eddie looked similarly stunned. “How did you get us here? And how did you get Joyce in on it?”

“Who’s Joyce?” Mini-Mike-Wheeler asked.

“I think they mean me.” Not-Joyce said.

Tiny Dustin’s face twisted up in confusion. “But that’s not your name.”

She shrugged. “I tried telling them that.”

Steve groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “Okay fine, she’s Glinda. Who are you?”

“Oh! I'm the mayor of Munchkinland.” A wide, gummy smile spread across tiny-Dustin’s face as he stuck his arm out, er, up, for a handshake. 

Steve stared down at him, unimpressed. “You’ve gotta be shitting me. I'm done playing whatever game this is. How do we–”

A sudden explosion went off in the middle of the town square only a few yards away, creating a thick cloud of red smoke. On instinct Steve and Eddie both moved to place themselves between the oncoming threat and the Munchkins. 

The air cleared quickly, revealing a woman in a long black dress and matching cloak, carrying a broom and wearing a hard scowl.

Steve blinked at her, then looked at Eddie for confirmation that they were seeing the same thing. 

“Mrs. Click?”

Eddie nodded.

Her complexion was all wrong but the resemblance was uncanny.

Steve leaned in, whispering, “If that’s Click, who do you think the one we hit was?” 

Eddie grinned. “O’Donnel.”

“I am the Wicked Witch of the West. You killed my sister. Prepare to die.” The newcomer declared loudly, sneering at the two of them.

Eddie rounded on her, pointing a finger right in her face. “Look lady, we’ve had just about enough–”

Steve grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him back. “What my friend here means to say is, it was an accident and we’re very sorry.”

“I’ll show you an accident, young man,” The Wicked Witch said, raising her green hands and long pointy nails threateningly in their direction.

“Aren't you forgetting something?” Glinda raised her voice, as she too moved to protect the little ones.

“The ruby slippers! Yes!” The Wicked Witch smiled gleefully and made a beeline for Eddie’s van. 

When her back was to them, Glinda winked at Steve and did some kind of wavy-woo with her stick, which, in hindsight he realized was a wand, and the red shoes disappeared from the dead body’s feet right before their eyes, reappearing in Steve’s hand a second later.

“They’re gone!” The Wicked Witch gasped, whirling on the spot and narrowing her eyes at him.

“Why is it always me?” Steve grumbled, resigned to the fight, only to find Eddie taking a protective step in front of him as she approached. 

“You! Give them back. I’m the only one who knows how to use them. They’re of no use to you!”

She wasn’t wrong, but Steve felt like maybe it wasn’t the best idea to give what he suspected was a powerful magical object to a woman whose sister they’d just murdered. All those months of spectating while the party played D&D were finally paying off. 

“Put them on and stay tight inside of them, Steve.” Glinda said, her tone grave. “Their magic must be very powerful, or she wouldn't want them so badly.”

Nailed it.

“You stay out of this, Glinda, or I'll fix you as well!”

The Good Witch waved her off. “You have no power here. Now be gone before someone drops a… a… a…” She stuttered, waffling as if searching for the right word.

“A van?” Eddie supplied.

“Ah, yes. Thank you, Eddie dear.” She cleared her throat, pausing for what Steve could only assume was dramatic effect. “Now, be gone before someone drops a van on you, too!”

“Very well, but I'll be watching.” The Wicked Witch hissed, zeroing in on Steve once again. “I’ll get you my pretty-boy, and your little dog too!”

“Hey! Who are you calling a dog? You looked in the mirror lately?! Witch.” Eddie spat. 

She huffed, raising her broomstick high above her head and bringing it down hard against the road at her feet, sending more red smoke billowing up from the spot to quickly engulf her form. When it was gone, so was she.

“Little dog. Pfft.” Eddie muttered.

“It’s the hair.” Little-Max said, matter-of-factly.

“Yes,” Tiny-Dustin agreed, nodding as he rubbed stubby fingers against his small chin. “The word scruffy does come to mind, to be fair.” 

“Watch it, Mayor.” Eddie warned.

“That, and the way you were guarding your friend there.” Little-Max spoke again.

Eddie glowered as she dissolved into giggles that quickly spread through the small crowd. Soon all the Munchkins, as well as Glinda, were clutching their sides with laughter.

Steve didn’t get what was so funny. 

“Don’t listen to them, Munson. I like your hair. It’s very… metal.” 

Eddie put on a show of rolling his eyes, but under it all was a shy pleased smile. “Thanks, Harrington.”

“That’s rough, boys. You’ve made quite the enemy. The sooner you get out of Oz the better I think.” Glinda said, when the laughter had finally faded. 

“And how do we do that exactly?” Eddie asked. “The van’s broken down, and even if it wasn't, I have no idea where the hell we are or how we even got here! Let alone how to get back to Hawkins.”

“The only person who might be able to help you would be The Great and Wonderful Wizard of Oz himself.”

Steve pursed his lips. “Okay, I'll bite. How do we find this Great Wizard?” It took all his strength not to put those last two words in air quotes.

“He lives in the Emerald city.” She said.

“And how do we get there?”

“Follow the yellow brick road, of course.”

Eddie shook his head. “Of course, she says.”

“Do you not have yellow brick roads where you come from?”

“No.” Steve snapped. He was already so tired of this shit, and somehow he knew that the end of, whatever this was, was nowhere in sight. 

“My, my, you two are grumpy.” Glinda muttered. Without another word she took a few steps away from them and waved her wand, conjuring a new pink bubble around herself. 

“Wait, you can’t just leave us here with these kids!” Steve shouted, but it was too late, The Good Witch had already started to float away. 

“We’re not kids, y’know.” Tiny-Dustin said.

“You look like kids.”

“Whatever.” The boy shrugged, taking one of their hands in each of his. “Come on, we’ll walk you to the edge of town.”

-

The edge of town turned out to be roughly 10 feet away from where the van had landed, which wasn’t a surprise given the compact nature of Munchkinland as a whole, but it did have Steve wondering why they even bothered. 

At least the kids—sorry, the Munchkins, had been helpful enough to point out the yellow brick road. 

As if they could have missed it.

Eddie let out a long whistle. “Wow, that is YELL-ow. Like, I know they said it, but I guess I expected it to be dull or dirty or something, not this bright sunshine color. Kinda reminds me of that sweater you used to wear.”

Steve tucked the pair of heels awkwardly under his arm and started down the path, wishing he had a bag or something to put them in. Holding onto them like this was going to get annoying fast. 

“Aren't you going to put those on first?” Eddie asked.

“Are you serious, Munson?” Steve slowed his pace, turning to gape at him.

Eddie grinned, bumping their elbows together when he caught up. “What, afraid you can’t walk in ‘em?”

“I wear a size 13 men’s shoe, they’re never gonna fit me!”

For a fraction of a second Eddie’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “Jesus, guess I was onto something with that nickname, big boy.”

Steve rolled his eyes, shoving the shoes in Eddie’s direction. “Why don’t you put them on?”

“No, that Glinda lady gave them to you, expressly.”

“I'm telling you they’re not gonna fit.”

“Magic shoes, Steve.” Eddie wiggled his fingers for emphasis. “Magic shoes! Just try, I'm sure it’ll be fine.”

Steve glared as he toed his sneakers off, tying the laces together before throwing them over Eddie’s shoulder, and finally slipped his feet into the sequin adorned pumps. 

They fit like a glove.

He twisted at the waist, glancing behind his own back, sticking first one leg out, and then the other, as he looked down at himself. “Hmm, they do make my ass look nice, I guess.” 

He also just so happened to be wearing his date night jeans, the ones that hugged him in all the right places, and with the addition of the shoes? It was a good look, if he did say so himself. 

A high pitched noise escaped Eddie’s throat. “As if you needed any more help in that department.” He mumbled under his breath.

Steve swallowed hard. “What’d you say?”

“Nothing.”

Eddie was always doing that—flirting, making little comments and then pretending he hadn’t. It drove Steve crazy, never sure if Eddie actually meant it, or if he just liked to tease—not quite sure which answer he hoped was the truth.

Steve turned on his heel, literally, and strode away, tired of wasting time. His first few steps were a bit wobbly, a little like a newborn calf learning to walk, but he got the hang of it pretty quickly. He wasn’t, like, swaying his hips side-to-side confident or anything—yet—but he was reasonably sure he wasn’t going to randomly fall over. It was good enough for now. 

“What are we looking for again?” He asked without turning around. 

“The Emerald city.” Eddie replied, falling into step beside him again, cheeks a little pink. “The little guy who looked like Will said we’d know it when we saw it.”

“Nicely vague, figures.” 

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it. They seem to take everything very literally around here, so my guess is if we see a place with a lot of big bright green buildings, that’ll be the one.”

Chapter 2

#steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #steddie wizard of oz #post season 4 #eddie lives #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #gift fic #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #the party

[hippiegoth97]

Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy

A/N: Hey, everybody! I just wanted to post a special V-Day chapter from my long-form story, Into the Fire, on here for the holiday. There's not really any 'spoilers', per se. But if you like, please feel free to check out the whole story on Wattpad! This is technically chapter sixty, but I think you can read it as a one-off, too!

Description: You've been struggling to get a handle on the numerous things in your life lately. Planning your wedding, working at The Hawk theater, finishing college. It's all so much. But, Eddie plans a special Valentine's date for you, doing his best to relieve your built-up stress...

Warnings: swearing, female reader. smut, light alcohol use, fingering, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, heavy kissing/groping, praise/degradation, unprotected sex, oral sex, squirting, fluff, engaged!reader, engaged!eddiemunson, reader is 21/Eddie is 24, reader is Dustin Henderson's older sister, Eddie and reader live together, and they have a cute black cat named Arwen (I think that's everything you need to know <3)

Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy

The following few weeks after Eddie's proposal are, in one word, intense. You've got more than too much on your plate lately. Between being in the throes of your final semester of college, to working your ass off at the Hawk keeping the underlings in line, your few remaining waking hours have been spent on wedding-planning. You've enlisted the help of Robin, your maid of honor, as well as Nancy, a bridesmaid, and your mother. Erica is your third and final pick for the bridal party, but she's far too busy with her own schoolwork to help you out. Besides, Mom was practically chomping at the bit to bestow a stack of bridal magazines unto you.

Thus far, planning has been a frenzied mess. You'd hoped that having Nancy around would help you and the other women keep level heads. But that couldn't be further from the truth. You've spent hours and hours with the three of them, circling China patterns, dog-earring pages of wedding gowns, bickering about floral arrangements. You've figured out very few aspects of the wedding at all, besides the guest list and the band. Eddie insisted Corroded Coffin, with Jeff as the front-man, play the reception. He hasn't had much input otherwise, so you agreed. Plus, they've agreed to play any songs you want, and for a very affordable rate. And who are you to turn up your nose at a good deal? It's a known fact within...well, humanity, that weddings aren't cheap.

Despite the numerous, tedious meetings you've been hosting in your apartment, you find yourself right back at square one every time. It's overwhelming. You've got too many voices in your ear, when you assumed four heads would be better than one. By the time everyone leaves for the night, you're left with an overpowering sense of doom. Like nothing you say, or think, or feel about what's meant to be such a momentous day matters.

Eddie tries his best to be of help, soothing your stress headaches and talking you down from hyper-ventilating spirals. You don't even have to explain much of it to him, he's gotten quite an earful by just hanging out in the bedroom while these groupings take place. But it appears that every time he puts you back together, the next time your 'helpers' come over makes you fall apart all over again. You're certain that he's frustrated by it, you definitely are yourself. But he's never shown it, not in an obvious way, at least. Maybe an occasional deep sigh here, or a slight eye roll there. But he never makes you feel like you're burdening him. He would never do that.

"Sweetheart, you fell asleep on the couch again." Eddie whispers, shaking you awake.

"What?" You ask groggily, blinking your eyes open. You find yourself laid out on the sofa, magazines littered with post-its and pen marks covering you in a blanket of glossy paper. An uncapped pen rests stiffly in your hand, it's a wonder you didn't scribble on yourself in your sleep. "Shit, I'm sorry, Eds. I didn't mean to stay up so late with all this." Your neck is sore from sleeping awkwardly on your side, and your clothes from last night cling to you with light sweat. You let out a groan as you twist your head side to side in an effort to alleviate the pain. You move to sit up, a few of the mags slipping down onto the floor.

"It's alright, babydoll. I know making everything perfect is important to you." Eddie replies patiently, bending down to pick up the mess.

"Yeah, spending hours arguing with my mother about hydrangeas and puffy white dresses is real perfect." You scoff, stacking the rest of the magazines on the coffee table.

"Well, maybe it would help to take a break from all the planning, hm?" He suggests, a sly smile on his lips. "A special Valentine's surprise, perhaps?" He says lowly while looking at you from the floor, waiting for a response. He's completely sure you've forgotten about the romantic holiday, which he doesn't blame you for. Life's been kicking your ass lately, and he only wants to make it better.

"Oh my god, I can't believe I forgot!" You scold yourself, smacking your forehead. "Baby, I'm so sorry. I've been a terrible fiancé lately." You sigh, grabbing hold of Eddie's face to plant kisses all over him to beg for forgiveness.

"No you're not, Y/N. You just have a lot goin' on. Which is why I planned everything out, to make tonight totally perfect." Eddie chuckles as you litter his flesh with wet smooches, his hands rubbing your shoulders to let you know it's okay.

"Really?" You stop kissing him, confused that he's somehow fine with you neglecting him. "Are you sure I deserve that? I know we haven't had a lot of time together lately, and even less sex. I mean, I've barely even sucked your c-"

"Angel, it's fine." He cuts you off from your self-flagulating rant, speaking to you calmly. He cups your cheek, giving you a warm smile. "Just promise it'll only be me and you tonight. No catalogs, no classes, no customers. Fair enough?"

"More than fair." You nod happily, placing your lips on his for a real kiss. "And I may have forgotten what today is, but I did remember to get you a present." You say eagerly, biting your lip.

"Oh, did you now? When did you ever find the time?" He teases.

"Somewhere between sleepless nights, I'm sure." You giggle, hopping off of the couch to go dig his present out of your special hiding place. The small cabinet above the fridge, where it's too small and high up to store anything kitchen-related. You climb up onto the counter, leaning over to open the cabinet. You pull out a rectangular bundle wrapped in red tissue paper, excitedly jumping back down to the floor afterwards. Eddie stands up to meet you, and you hold the present out to him. "For you, my love."

Eddie takes the gift from you, and tears open the paper to reveal a beautifully crafted leather journal with a three-headed dragon engraved on the front. A smaller matching pouch sits on top, with some fancy pens inside of it. You'd found this gorgeous set at the new-agey shop downtown, beside some bundles of sage and a shelf full of spell books. "These are beautiful, princess." Eddie says, in awe of how detailed the leather work is, his hand running over the hundreds of etched-in scales on the dragon.

"I noticed your notebooks have been getting pretty full lately, figured you could use a new one. For all your amazing drawings and ideas." You explain, adoring the look of wonder on his face. You're so glad he likes them. Although, you could probably wrap up his old socks and still manage to 'wow' him.

"Thank you sweetheart, this is perfect." Eddie rewards you with a tender kiss, his free arm wrapping around you to hold you close.

"I'm glad you like it, Eds." You say softly, fighting back the sudden urge to cry. It's come over you unexpectedly, you suppose it's all that racked-up guilt from the last few weeks. Your bottom lip trembles, betraying your efforts to hide and not ruin this day.

"Baby, what's wrong?" He tuts, wondering what he said or did to upset you. You shake your head, failing to prevent your eyes from tearing up. You know you're being silly. You shouldn't feel bad after he's assured you that everything is fine. "C'mere, love. Talk to me." He insists, leading you to sit back down with him on the couch.

"It's stupid, Eds. Really." You reply through a stifled sob.

"Honey, if it's making you this upset, I'm sure it isn't stupid." Eddie strokes your arms to coax you into talking to him.

You take a minute before answering. "I-I know you said it's fine, but I still feel bad for being so busy all the time. I know I shouldn't, but I do anyway." You explain sadly, searching his eyes for frustration or disappointment, but you find none.

"That's okay, Y/N. I mean, I don't want you to feel bad, obviously. But I don't want you to hide your true feelings from me, either. Just feel 'em, cry it out, and we'll have our romantic date later. 'Kay?" Eddie says, loving as ever. He hates seeing you so sad, over something perfectly normal. But he can't say he wouldn't feel the same if the roles were reversed, if his job and other things in his life monopolized his time instead of you.

"Okay." You nod, shrinking yourself down into his embrace. You're relieved as you break it down for him. How hard work and your classes have been, how Mom and the others have been driving you absolutely crazy. It's nice to let it all out, the stress slowly evaporating alongside your tears. You feel sane again, and less like your head is going to explode. "So, what'd you get me?" You ask, now able to focus on the lovey-dovey activities this special day will bring.

"Sorry, not telling. But you'll find out tonight, babydoll." Eddie chuckles, grateful for your brightening mood.

"Whatever you say, love. You mind making breakfast?" Your stomach growls at the thought of some French toast.

"Anything for you, sweetheart." He gives you a brief peck, before getting up to make you some food.

"Mew." Arwen signals her arrival as he hops up onto the couch to see you. She comes right over to your lap, making biscuits on your thighs.

"Good morning, little one. Did you keep daddy company last night?" You ask her, raising a hand to give her some scratches.

"Mew." She replies, closing her eyes and purring loudly at your loving touch.

"I'll take that as a yes." You smile down at the cat, gently rubbing the bridge of her nose. She loves when you do that, instantly melting into your lap. You continue to pet her as Eddie cooks breakfast, joining him at the table once it's ready. You devour the bacon, eggs, and syrupy French toast like a woman starved. You'd forgotten to eat dinner last night after the others had left, too focused on trying to pick out the perfect color scheme. Every last bite is exactly what you need, filling you up nicely.

Once the plates are cleared away, Eddie leads you down the hall to take a shower with him. He turns on the water, and helps you remove your clothes before taking off his own. He sets out a couple fluffy towels, and lets you get under the hot rushing water first. It soaks through your hair and skin, encasing you like a warm blanket. The heat feels good on your neck, as well as Eddie's firm hands that come up to rub your knotted flesh. "You gotta stop sleepin' on that couch, babydoll. Gonna really hurt yourself one of these days." He coos to you as his fingers work to untangle your muscles.

"I know, Eds." You sigh blissfully, backing your body into his. His taut chest meets your back, and you can feel his cock pressing into your ass. He's only half-hard, as he usually is whenever he sees you naked. "Feels good to have your hands on me, though." You let out a breathy moan, tilting your head so he can get your other side more thoroughly.

"I'm well aware, angel. Why else do you think I use them so much?" He chuckles lowly, bringing his lips to kiss your shoulder. A pit of lust forms in your stomach at the contact, only growing deeper as his mouth travels slowly towards your throat. Your heart begins to beat faster, your chest practically heaving from his touch. It's barely anything at all, but neither of you have been getting much in the way of intimacy lately. Eddie continues massaging your neck, eliciting quiet moans from you all the while. His cock stiffens with each one, poking you more and more firmly as the seconds pass. When he deems your neck adequately attended to, his lips lay a blazing trail along your throat. And his left hand snakes down the front of your body, making a small detour at your breast. He cups and squeezes the mound of your chest.

"Eddie..." You whimper, pushing yourself further into him. His thumb and forefinger roll your nipple in their grip, gently tweaking it. You can sense how soaked you are for him, despite the hot water rushing down your chest, stomach, and thighs.

"Let me make you feel good, sweetheart." Eddie purrs in your ear, tugging the lobe between his teeth.

"What about you?" You ask, turning your head to look back at him.

"We'll worry about me later. It's your turn right now." He says sweetly, his eyes blown wide with desire. Sure, his dick is getting very hard, precum leaking profusely from its tip. But he wants to make you come undone more than anything. You've been putting yourself through the wringer lately, you need this. You give him a silent nod, facing forward again. "Good girl." He praises, nipping your neck with his teeth. His hand ventures lower, running across your belly and effortlessly dipping between your thighs.

"Fuck." Your hips buck once his middle finger brushes against your clit, but his free arm wraps around you to keep you close to him. He rubs lazy circles on your bud, occasionally sliding through your folds to spread your arousal.

"So fuckin' wet for me, baby." Eddie groans against your throat, leaving a dark hickey in his wake.

"Only for you, love." You moan in response, your hands gripping at his hairy thighs for purchase. These few seconds of pleasure he's brought you so far are more than enough to have your knees giving out.

"That's right... just for me." He chuckles darkly, teasing your tight entrance with the tips of his fingers. Barely dipping inside half a centimeter, before ducking out again. "You're my girl...my fiancé...and soon, you'll be my wife. All mine, my perfect little slut." He speaks explicitly into your ear, his breath fanning hotly against you as his thick fingers finally dive inside your pussy.

"Yours, all yours!" You moan loudly at his digits filling you up, your nails digging into his legs. Eddie curls his knuckles slowly at first, marveling at your obscene noises. Your head has fallen back against his shoulder, your eyes blissfully closed as sensation builds inside of you. Your lips are parted enough to let out delicious whimpers and utterances of his name, and your cunt squelches around his fingers as he fucks them into you.

"God, you're already so fucked for me...been too long. Hasn't it, love?" He asks, increasing his pace just a little.

"Yes, fuck, I've missed this." You nod your head.

"So have I, darling." Eddie kisses you again, curling and thrusting his fingers more roughly now. His fingertips hit your sweetspot with precision, pressing the spongey bit of flesh again and again.

"Oh, god. Just like that, Eddie. Don't stop." You moan to him how good it feels, how perfectly he's able to reach inside you.

"Yeah? You like the way I fuck your pretty little pussy? You're makin' such a mess on my hand, sweetheart." He continues to talk dirty in a groaning tone, every word building your pleasure up. Your juices are pooling in his palm, spilling over to coat your thighs. His cock rubs against your ass absently, desperate for friction. Watching you fall apart like this is driving him crazy, and you can feel his excitement dripping down the curve of your ass.

"Turn around, Eds. I wanna touch you too." You beg, itching to get your hands on him. You try to swivel yourself around, but it's a bit hard to do in this position.

"Relax, Y/N. You'll get what you want." Eddie coos, stilling you with his arm so you don't get hurt. He carefully pulls his hand away, allowing you to face him. You immediately grab hold of his throbbing dick, stroking him with your wetted hand. "Fuck, baby. So impatient." He chuckles through a groan. He savors your touch on him for a moment, watching your hollowed fist pump up and down his length. Pearly pre-cum oozes from him with every stroke, needy sounds escaping his lips. He leads you back against the shower wall, and slips his fingers into your cunt again. His free hand cages you in, his musky scent filling your nostrils as it's yet to be washed away.

"I love you, darling." You say softly, your breath catching in your throat as Eddie adopts a faster pace than before. The coil inside you grows tighter, and you gaze adoringly into his eyes as he pounds you.

"I love you too, princess." He grunts, eyes rolling back slightly as you rub his swollen cockhead with your thumb. He won't last much longer if you keep it up. Eddie presses his lips to yours as you hastily get each other off, his tongue tangling with your own instantly. You make out heavily under the rain of the shower head, murmuring thoughtless phrases along the lines of 'faster, harder' and 'feels so good, baby'. Your minds run a mile a minute, hands pumping rabidly, tongues dancing with unwavering hunger. Wet noises fill the room alongside your moans. You don't want to stop kissing, or touching. Not for a single second. Your bodies ache for one another, it's a miracle you're able to resist full-on fucking until later on. You have to make each other cum, now more than ever.

"I'm getting close, baby. Your fingers feel so good inside me, please make me cum." You moan as your high is about to take you over. Your walls flutter around Eddie's hand, signaling your end.

"I'mright there, too, angel. Just keep stroking my cock, be a good girl for me." Eddie groans back, his stomach threatening to tense any second now.

"Oh, god, fuck!" You cry out as your orgasm bursts inside your core, consuming your entire being in roaring flames. You clamp down around Eddie's fingers, sticky release gushing out of you. Your thighs tremble, near enough to make you fall over.

"Shit..." He gasps, before letting out a loud moan. His hips stutter, bucking against your hand as thick ropes of white shoot out of his cock. They spill onto your fingers, your stomach, even your tits. He slumps forward, burying his head in your neck until his high slips away. You're left sweaty and panting against the wall for a few minutes, exchanging a couple more flaming kisses in the aftermath. You pull away at some point, with you releasing his cock from your grip, while he slips his fingers out of you. You taste Eddie's cum on your hand, humming in satisfaction at the sweetness of it. He does the same, sucking his wrinkled fingers clean. "You have no idea how much I needed that, babydoll." Eddie grins, taking your hand in his.

"Believe me, I needed it just as much as you did." You smile back, reaching for the shampoo. "We'd better wash up before the hot water runs out." You squirt some of the soap into your hands, before passing the bottle off to him.

You spend the brief amount of time you have to shower in a comfortable temperature getting yourselves nice and squeaky clean. Afterwards, you slip into some comfy pajamas and curl up together on the couch. Eddie pops in one of the cheesy romantic movies you'd rented into the VCR, pulling a blanket over the two of you to get comfortable. He keeps you close in his arms, making you feel warm and secure as he always does. This lazy afternoon is exactly what you need to recharge prior to your special night out later on. You spend hours just like this, watching film after film and munching on some popcorn. Say Anything, Pretty in Pink, and a horror by the name of My Bloody Valentine that Eddie happened to sneak in the mix are the showings for today. Not a bad bunch, in your opinion. You've been sworn to secrecy on the issue, but Eddie loves John Hughes movies. In his own words, they're very 'real', and you definitely agree.

In the early evening, Eddie leaves you alone for a minute to prepare his surprise for you in the bedroom. You're painfully curious as to what it is, but you resist the urge to lean over and have a peek down the hall. "Okay, it's ready!" Eddie calls to you, giving you the go-ahead to find your present.

"Coming!" You practically spring from the couch, skittering down the hall to join him. You find him sitting on the side of the bed, with two nicely-wrapped gifts beside him. One is a large red box with a big bow on top, and the other is a pink bag with sparkly tissue inside.

"Happy Valentine's Day, dollface." Eddie says with a smile, eager to see what you think. You step closer to the larger gift, pulling the lid off the box. There's paper inside, concealing the contents further. You unfold it, revealing a gorgeous, baby pink satin dress and matching shoes. The dress js very similar to ones you already own, meant to show as much skin as possible. But this beautiful color has yet to grace your closet. You pull it out of the box, holding it up to yourself to guess how it'll look on you.

"This is beautiful, Eds! And you got the right size and everything!" You beam, dying to try it on.

"There's more, angel." Eddie smirks, picking up the smaller bag to hand to you. You take it from his grip, immediately tossing the paper out of it. And you find a luxurious set of lingerie inside, which matches the dress. There's a strapless bustier, cheeky panties, a garter belt. It even comes with pink fishnet stockings.

"Eddie, I love it!" You give him a thankful kiss, setting the present down to climb onto his lap and straddle him. "They're so pretty, baby. I can't wait to wear them." You say with gratitude, smiling brightly.

"Well, you won't have to wait long. Because we're going out for dinner." Eddie grins mischievously, having yet another surprise to reveal.

"Ooh! Where are we going?" You ask excitedly, bouncing in his lap.

"Enzo's. That fancy Italian place. I know you've always wanted to go there." He explains, and you can't help tackling him further onto the bed and enthusiastically gracing his handsome, adorable face with kisses.

"Enzo's! Are you serious!? You are the sweetest man in the entire world! I love you so, so much! And I am gonna fuck your brains out when we come back home!" You exclaim, repeatedly kissing his cheeks, chin, and forehead. Eddie giggles madly as you do this, your lips beginning to tickle him.

"I'm just giving the most amazing woman in the world everything she deserves, sweetheart." His hands grip your hips, hoping for some semblance of stability as you continue to smooch the hell out of him. His face has gone red in his laughter, he can barely breathe. But he'd happily suffocate in your affection, as long as it never goes away.

"This 'most amazing woman' is me, right?" You ask jokingly, ceasing your love-attack.

"Yes, Y/N. Who else could make me as happy as you do?" He says honestly, brushing a stray hair behind your ear and gazing deep into your eyes.

"Shit, I've converted you into a full-blown romantic, haven't I?" You tease. Never in your life did you think you'd ensnare the heart of the bristly metalhead, who used to have quite a reputation for throwing diatribal tantrums in the middle of the cafeteria. But here he is, currently pinned down by your body, on your shared bed, and engaged to you.

"Hey, now. I happen to think I've always had some Casanova-like qualities." He chuckles. "But, I'll admit I didn't think I could be so insanely in love with someone, the way I am with you." Maybe a few years ago, he would've cringed at himself for saying such sappy things. But as sickly sweet as the words may be, they ring true for him now that he has you in his life. And there's no way he could ever go back to being that same cynical dickhead from before. The one who thought love was just a scam to sell greeting cards and shitty chocolate. If anything, he'd go back and smack some sense into his younger self. To tell third-time senior Eddie to nut up and ask you out like he'd been dying to.

But he supposes you wouldn't be where you are now if he had. Immature Eddie would've probably skipped out on you at the first sign of trouble, awful as that is to admit. He was dealing with a lot of his own bullshit back then, there's no way he could've been what you needed. Eddie's not too big a fan of the word 'fate', or the concept behind it. The idea that there's no true free will, that somehow everything is predetermined, and everyone is set on an inescapable path from birth. He likes to think he has more control over his own life and future than that. But he will say, that he's lucky as hell to have you be his girl. His woman. He'll do everything to avoid squandering this wonderful thing he has with you. This deep, meaningful, sappy, sweet, hopeless, romantic, love.

"I didn't think I could either, Eds. Seeing my parents fall apart definitely put me off of romance for a very long time." You say, not breaking this intense stare you're both captured in. "But I know we aren't like my parents, or yours. What we have is real, and perfect, and wonderful. I'm never letting this fade. Ever."

"Neither am I, Y/N." He shakes his head, raising his head to give you a gentle kiss. It doesn't last long, since you have a reservation that Eddie worked very hard to get. "Let's get dressed, sweetheart. Dinner is at six." He pats your thighs, waiting for you to get up.

"Don't mind if I do." You say giddily, rolling off of him towards your pretty new things.

"It's nice to see you excited about something again." Eddie smiles, watching you quickly remove your pajamas to reveal your gorgeous body.

"It's nice to be excited, love. Everything has just been so much lately, I haven't had the time to enjoy planning our special day." You sigh, pulling the brand new lingerie out of its bag. You remove the tags, putting the pieces on one by one.

"Believe me, I know." He keeps observing you as you pull the panties up to your hips, your hands fastening the front of the bustier, your fingers rolling the hosiery over your thighs and clipping them in place. "Lemme look at you for a sec, baby. I've been dyin' to see this on you. My vivid imagination can only do so much." He gestures for you to stand before him, do a little rotation to show off your assets.

"Anything for you." You giggle at his ogling, moving over so he can see you fully. You feel so sexy in this getup, the fabric is absolutely delicious against your skin. And the look on Eddie's face makes you feel like the hottest woman on the entire planet. You turn around, giving him a good look at your ass swallowing up the panties, the straps of the garter running up the backs of your thighs. 

"Fuck..." He mutters, his dick twitching at just how exquisite you look in this little number. Shit, if you didn't have a reservation, he'd bend you over right here and now. "I hate to flatter my own shopping skills, but I don't think you've ever looked sexier." Eddie grins, pleased with himself. The sales girl was very helpful at the store, although she offered to model this for him. Which he quickly and politely declined.

"And I'm inclined to agree. I feel unbelievably hot right now." You say as you turn back around again. You continue getting ready, pulling out the dress and heels from their box. "So, what are you wearing to dinner?" You ask curiously.

"I bought a new shirt, and a jacket, too. Figure if you're gonna look this incredible tonight, I oughtta do the same." He replies, getting up to pull his new clothes out of the closet. You catch a glance, seeing a dark purple button-up shirt and a black jacket to match the slacks he already owns.

"Purple? That's a new color for you." You observe, you honestly can't think of a time where's he's worn anything that isn't black or red, or occasionally blue. But you can tell that the fit and hue he picked is going to make him good enough to eat.

"I decided to branch out." He says casually, not thinking much of it. It felt right when he tried it on in the men's dressing room, his other nice shirts fit a bit too loose on him. He wanted something that truly belongs to him, not some hand-me-down from Wayne or the thrift store. Eddie strips off his comfy clothes, pulling some black boxers from the dresser, and some socks.

You both get dressed, keeping pretty quiet as you do. In a way, you're separating yourselves, so you can have a 'final reveal' once you're ready to go. You slip into your dress, and put the heels onto your stockinged feet. You pick out a few pieces of gold jewelry to compliment the outfit, applying some light makeup with a glossy lip. You put your hair up in a ponytail, fanning out the ends a little.

When you return from the bathroom, you find Eddie standing fully dressed before you. And, hot damn, is he yummy. He's got one foot crossed over the other all suave-looking, his jacket held over his shoulder in one hand. His hair is tied back in a low ponytail, keeping the wild curls in line for a night. And the shirt...it's exactly what you pictured once he brought it out of the closet. It fits him well, showing off the muscles in his arms and chest, without being too tight. It's tucked neatly into his slacks, a couple of the top buttons left open to display the chain he never takes off.

"Fuckin' A, Eds. You look...wow." You're speechless, and about to bite a hole through your lip as you commit this image to memory.

"Likewise, princess. Very wow." Eddie teases with a smirk, though he's at a loss for more complex words himself. It's like night and day, going from ratty pajamas to puttin' on the ritz. To him, you look like a movie star. "Ready to paint the town, honey?" He asks, extending his ringed hand for you to take.

"I'll bring a brush." You quip, holding Eddie's hand and letting him lead you to the front door. You grab a jacket and your purse on the way out, giving Arwen a quick pat goodbye.

Eddie drives you to the restaurant, where you're promptly greeted and seated at a small table in the back of the dining room. Tea light candles in small red holders sit on the clean white tablecloth, silverware and empty glasses set out neatly. Eddie pulls out your chair for you, and you sit down and let him push you in once you've removed your jacket. He sits across from you, forcing himself not to slouch. The waiter takes your drink order, suggesting a bottle of wine. You agree with his recommendation, and he leaves you to look over the menu.

"Whatcha thinkin', angel?" Eddie asks, weighing his options. The steak sounds nice, but pasta wouldn't be too bad, either.

"The ravioli sounds good." You answer, your mouth watering at the idea of cheesy pockets of pasta in rich tomato sauce. "What about you?" Your eyes flick up to him.

"I was thinking steak." He replies, reaching across the table to take your free hand. It may be a small amount of distance, but he feels miles away from you. You take hold of him without a second thought, clearly feeling the same.

"Ooh, big spender." You tease, though your eyes widen a little when you glance at the prices for each cut of steak. Jesus, do they butcher the cow fresh, or something?

"It's not that bad. We can afford to splurge once in a while." Eddie chuckles, thinking nothing of it. You're not the only one who knows how to be thrifty where it counts, or who likes to squirrel money away. You've earned this spendy night out, and then some.

"I know, love. And I'm so happy you brought me here tonight. It's perfect." You beam through the dim lighting, looking around at the other couples sat all around you. Dressed to the nines in suits and sparkly dresses, dripping with gold and diamonds. The waiters flit about effortlessly, clearing tables, pouring wine, presenting meals. There's even a string quartet on the other side of the restaurant, playing romantic songs at an ambient volume.

"I'm glad you're having a good time, Y/N. I was a little worried you'd disappear into you own head again." He says, relieved that his romancing is working to ease your mind. You're a tough nut to crack at times, no matter what he does in order to console you.

"So was I. But I'm right here, in this wonderful place, with you." You reassure him that you aren't going anywhere, that you intend to be fully present with him tonight. He's put in so much effort to make this go right, and it wouldn't be kind to ruin that.

"Are you ready to order?" The waiter asks, pouring deep red wine into your glasses.

"Yes. I'll have the ribeye, medium-rare, with the corn and mashed potatoes." Eddie answers.

"And for you, miss?" The waiter turns to you.

"The ravioli, please." You say shortly.

"Wonderful. I'll put that in for you right away. Please, let me know if there's anything else I can get for you." The waiter says politely, before toddling off to give your order to the kitchen.

You and Eddie talk casually while you wait for your food to arrive, about small things. Like Arwen's next check-up, items you have to add to the grocery list, the need for a new set of sheets. Innocuous, domestic things. The air between you two is serene, and comfortable. You don't talk about work, or the wedding, or school. There's no need for the stressers in your life to invade this peaceful bubble you're floating around in.

The food arrives pretty quickly, and you don't hesitate to dive in. Politely, of course. You have no reason to gobble up your dinner like animals. You take your time, savoring every last delectable bite. You take small sips of wine to wash it down, you don't want to get drunk tonight. You want to be as clear-headed as you can for what comes after your return home. The waiter comes by again to collect your empty plates once you're stuffed full, asking if you want dessert. You decline, unable to have another bite. Eddie pays the check, and you leave arm in arm, with content smiles and satisfied stomachs.

"Fuck, that was good." Eddie says as you return to the apartment. He closes the door behind you, slipping his jacket off of his shoulders.

"Yes, it was, baby. But I think there's something even better waiting for you in the bedroom." You reply coyly.

"And what would that be?" He asks with a knowing grin.

"Me!" You laugh giddily, before dashing down the hall, prompting Eddie to chase you. You can hear him right behind you, his footfalls landing on the floor with rushed purpose as he cackles. You just barely make it in the room and jump on the bed with an excited squeal. Eddie's on you in seconds, chuckling darkly as he rolls you over and pins you to the bed.

"Gotcha." He grins, holding your wrists above your head, weighing you down with his lower half. He leans in to kiss you roughly, slipping his steak-stained tongue into your mouth.

"Mmm." You hum into the kiss, loving the way he's taking control of you like this. You've been craving it from the moment you saw him in his sexy new shirt. It took everything in you not to pounce on him earlier. His thigh slots between your legs, pushing your dress up as he rubs your clothed heat. "Eddie." You moan against his lips at the tease, rolling your hips up to get more friction. The curve of his thigh runs over your clit, making you gasp. Your new panties are quickly getting soaked, sure to leave a damp spot on his pants.

"Mmm, naughty girl." Eddie smirks at you essentially humping his leg, desperate for his touch in seconds flat. He takes his thigh away, much to your dismay. You whine at the loss of him, but he just gently shushes you. He holds your wrists together with one hand, reaching the other down to stroke your pussy through the satin. "Fuck, baby. You're such a mess. This all for me?" He asks, finding your swollen bud hiding under the sodden fabric and rubbing barely-there circles over it.

"Yes, love. All for you." You pant, your thighs begging to clamp shut and trap his hand in place.

"Let's get you outta this dress." Eddie says, reaching for the hem and pulling the garment up towards your head. It's tossed away to the floor, leaving you in the sexy lingerie he'd bought for you. His pupils go wide as saucers at the sight of you, his hands running along your sides to feel all your curves. "God, look at you. Wrapped up so nice for me, like a pretty little present." He purrs, fixated on your tits being pushed together in the bustier. His hand returns between your legs, making much more purposeful circles. The other goes to open the clasps concealing your breasts from him.

"Eddie." You moan at his touch on your clit again, watching helplessly as he exposes your tits for him. The bustier falls open, your boobs bouncing in their freedom. Eddie lowers his head to capture one of your hardened nipples in his mouth, causing your back to arch off the bed. Your hands rip the elastic from his hair, weaving your fingers in his thick tresses. You continue to moan aloud for him as his tongue rolls around your pebbled flesh and his finger rubs you through your drenched panties. "Baby...I-I need you..." You whine, wanting him to give you more. You're already burning up from the inside out, but it's not nearly enough.

"What do you need from me, sweetheart? Hm? Use you words." He smirks at you from his position on your chest.

"I need you out of these clothes, Eds. I wanna feel you." You answer impatiently, attempting to reach for the buttons on his shirt.

"Yeah? You wanna strip me down, princess?" He asks cooly, putting himself directly above you.

"Mmhmm." You nod, biting your lip in excitement.

"Knock yourself out." He chuckles at your eagerness, rolling you both over to put you on top. You straddle his lap, feeling his stiff erection inside his slacks. You waste no time in undoing the buttons of his shirt, pulling the tails out of his pants. He kicks off his shoes to help out a little, just as you've exposed his chest. You lean down to pay him back, planting searing kisses on his skin. You trace his tattoos with your tongue, biting on his nipples. Eddie breathes heavily, a small moan escaping him every so often in your worship.

"You're so gorgeous, Eds. I'll never get enough of this body." You praise, venturing lower to kiss down his stomach and towards his belt. You roll your hips over him, moaning as his base makes contact with your clit through the layers of fabric. Eddie groans beneath you, his hands gripping your waist to guide you. You fiddle around with his belt, not trying very hard to remove it as you grind into him. You keep going just like this for a few minutes, riling the both of you up. But it's still not enough to satisfy you. "I want you so bad, love. Need you inside me." With a newfound urgency, you finally manage to undo his belt and unzip his pants.

"I need you too, babydoll." Eddie says, no complaints on his end. He sits up to shuck his shirt from his torso, and kicks his slacks off his legs once you've pushed them down toward his ankles. You hook your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, yanking them down in one swift motion. His cock slaps against his stomach, heavy and swollen at the tip. You don't slow down, grabbing hold of him and getting up on your knees. Nevermind you're still wearing most of your ensemble, heels and all. You don't have time to care, you want to ride him now. You hastily pull your panties to the side, positioning yourself over Eddie's tip. "Fuck." He groans as you run his head through your slick folds.

"Ready, baby?" You ask with a pleased grin, savoring how his fat cock feels running along your slit.

"Always." He nods, needing you to take him inside already. Your teasing is getting to be a bit much. Without another word, you slowly sink down on his dick. Low moans leave you both, your hands falling to his chest to hold yourself up, his own squeezing your hips. He fills you up entirely, reaching every single spot inside your cunt. Your walls clench around him once you bottom out, making Eddie mutter swears under his breath.

"Mmm, filling up my pussy just right, Eds. I fuckin' love your cock." You giggle happily, relieved to finally have what you've been wanting all damn day. What you've been wanting for weeks. Just you and him in your shared bed, with no one and nothing getting in the way. Staying fully seated on him, you rock your hips back and forth lazily. You want to enjoy this as much as you can. You capture Eddie's lips with yours, kissing him deeply, hungrily.

He hums against you, hands wandering to caress your back and sides, occasionally dipping down to massage the swells of your ass. Your tongues fight for dominance, though Eddie lets you win before long. With the way your pussy is squeezing him, he can't focus enough to put up a good fight. You slow rocking makes him grow more and more needy, his gentle touches becoming harder and rougher. "Y/N, please. I need you to fuck me." Eddie groans, pulling away from your lips to breathe.

"Now who's impatient?" You tease, sitting up so you can start riding him. You lift yourself up, your ass smacking against his pelvis once you crash back down. "Fuck." You gasp as his tip hits your cervix. You start to bounce steadily on his dick, bracing your hands on his chest and gazing down at him as you moan.

"That's it, baby. Fuck, I love seeing you like this. Love seeing your pretty face, hearing your sexy noises. And the way your tits bounce, and my cock filling your hot, wet pussy. It's all so beautiful, sweetheart." Eddie says earnestly, his words dripping with lust. You truly are a vision above him, borderline angelic. Your head thrown back, face twisted in pleasure as you sing praises of his ample length piercing you again and again. And seeing your bottom half still clothed in the sexy pink set he bought you, the fact that you were too desperate for him to even take your shoes off. He could just about die.

"And I love giving you a show, darling." You smile down at him, blushing at his admiration. You have quite the view yourself, Eddie's hair splayed out on the bed, his big brown eyes blown wide with want, his lips parted to moan and say filthy things to you. He's such a talker in bed, which you adore immensely. Anyone else even attempting to do so would be like nails on a chalkboard to you. But Eddie's mastered the art, knowing what words to use, which ones to avoid. He can predict what occasions call for sweeter phrasings, which opportunities require downright obscene revelations. You attribute this to his impeccable story-telling abilities. Whether it's an elaborate D&D campaign, or trying to make you cum, his mouth instinctively knows all the right things to say.

You keep up like this, riding his cock like it's your day job. You don't go too fast, you don't want either of you to cum so soon. But it's a consistent, steady pace that allows you to feel every inch of each other. You can't stop moaning and cursing, the sound mingling with the thick slapping of skin on skin. Your bodies sweat as pleasure builds inside of you, the temperature in the room rapidly reaching a thousand degrees.

"Mind if I have a turn, sweetheart?" Eddie asks. He's having the time of his life letting you take the wheel, but he notices your movements becoming a bit strained after a while. He can tell when you're running out of steam, and he's more the willing to lend a hand.

"You know me too well, Eds." You let out a breathlessly laugh, thankful he's going to take over. Much as you enjoy riding him like a stallion, your thighs are burning as you've reached your limit. You still yourself, laying your body on his so he can roll you both over to take the reigns. His knees push up to spread your thighs open for him, propping himself on his elbows to close you in. He knows what you want, to be completely surrounded by him.

"Better?" He asks, stroking your hip as he checks in on you.

"Much better, love. Thank you." You nod gratefully, giving him a warm kiss.

"'Course." He says quietly against your lips, continuing to kiss you heavily. He doesn't start moving just yet, enjoying this intimate moment with you. You're nearly melting into the bed as he envelops you entirely, tenting your knees at his hips to fully close the seal he's created. His scent takes over your nose, spicy cologne and coconut shampoo mingling with sweat. Eddie lowers his lips to your neck, methodically ravishing your flesh. You cling to his back with your hands, nails digging into the skin. Sensing your want for him to get things going again, he slowly pulls out, before slipping back inside.

"Oh, Eddie..." You sigh as his cock pumps in and out in tender strokes. Every sedate thrust reads as a passionate declaration of love. Eddie keeps marking up your neck, holding your waist in his large hands as he pumps his hips. He's gonna take his time, build you up so agonizingly slow, that you're screaming his name once you finally come crashing down. "Feels so good, baby." You say softly, your eyes falling closed in bliss. Your arms have fully wrapped around him now, needing to hold him as closely as possible.

"Yeah? You like it when I take it slow with you?" He asks sweetly, licking warm circles around a purple hickey he's left on you.

"Mmhmm, I love being so close to you. It's like we become something bigger, together." You reply, your voice content, the words like silk on your tongue.

"And I thought I had a way with words." Eddie chuckles, lifting his head to look in your eyes. His pelvis still pivots into yours, but he adopts a slightly faster, rougher speed. Just enough to really get you going.

"Fuck, baby." You whimper as his cock hits your g spot more precisely. You can't stop staring up at him, entranced by his adoring eyes. His body shifts back and forth above you with every thrust, and you can picture how his length looks disappearing inside your cunt. You're absolutely drenched around him, you have been the entire time. And the method he's employing only makes you wetter by the second. Your arousal slicks over him repeatedly, forming a sticky ring around the base of him.

"You're so wet, sweetheart. Always keeps me slidin' in and out so smooth." He says lowly, every syllable sounding comparable to Shakespearian poetry to your keen ears.

"And only you can make me this way, Eds. With your perfect lips..." You brush your fingertips across his mouth. "...your thick fingers..." You take one of his hands in your own, interlacing your fingers and squeezing gently. "...and your massive cock." You clench your walls around him on purpose, making him gasp. You giggle when he falters in his thrusts, but his eyes never leave you for a second. "You make me feel amazing, baby." You squeeze his hand again, earning one back.

"God, I love you." Eddie says hurriedly, pressing his lips to yours.

"I love you too, Eddie." You pant through the gaps in this breathless kiss. Eddie picks up speed again, your chest arching up into his. He's still not going nearly as fast as he usually does, but it's blowing your mind all the same. His hips roll with determination, hitting your sweetspot every single time. "Don't stop, love. This- fuck, this feels really good." You whimper, further clinging onto him.

"I won't ever stop unless you ask me to, princess." He grunts, not changing a single thing about what he's doing. If it's even possible, you're more soaked than before. He keeps going, pistoning his dick inside your pussy with the same motivation you'd had earlier on.

"Yes, yes, yes...God, Eddie...you fuck me so good." Messy utterances babble from your lips, you've gone completely cock-drunk. You know you're getting close, and Eddie does, too.

"Take it, baby, s'all for you. Such a good girl for me, can't wait for you to soak my cock." Eddie groans, his words flowing right into your ear as his head falls to rest beside your own.

"Keep going, love. I'm getting close."Your legs wrap around his middle, high heels digging into the apex of back as you pull him closer.

"Me too, angel." He huffs against your neck, pinning your hand to the bed and interlocking his fingers with yours again. He thrusts himself into you with the tiniest bit more force, nearing his end as his balls start tightening.

"Fuck! Right there!" You whine, your orgasm creeping closer by the second. Your insides are doing their tell-tale convulsions, letting the beautiful man above you know what's about to happen.

"Go ahead, sweetheart. Cum for me." He purrs, bringing his other hand down to rub quick circles on your clit. His words and the added contact are all you need to explode into smithereens.

"Fuck, Eddie...oh, god!" You hold onto Eddie for dear life as your high takes you over. Your entire body trembles, cries of ecstasy ripping from your lungs. Your pussy pulses and constricts around his cock, and you cum harder than you have in a while. Juices spurt out of you, drenching Eddie's length, wetting your thighs and the bed.

"Good girl, make a big mess for me." Eddie almost growls, his eyes rolling back at your cunt hosing him down. He keeps thrusting to meet his end, hips bucking wildly as his stomach finally tenses up. "Fuck, Y/N..." You feel his thick cum fill you up, your pleasure extended as he rides his out. He collapses on top of you once he's done, pressing whispers of kisses on your cheeks, neck, and shoulders. "Happy Valentine's Day, babydoll. I love you so much." Eddie says softly, unable to fully remove his mouth from you.

"I love you too, Eds. Happy Valentine's Day." You reply, still floating weightlessly on cloud nine. You stroke his hair with your fingers, rumbling hums vibrating in his chest when you rub his scalp. Eddie carefully pulls his softened cock out of you, watching your mixed release ooze from your cunt. He licks his lips hungrily, lowering his head between your legs. Looks like he's found dessert. "Eddie!" You yelp in surprise as his tongue licks through your folds, your clit still sparking.

"I'm not nearly done with you yet, sweetheart." Eddie says darkly, his hooded eyes flicking up to look at you. The intense hunger in his pupils tells you it's going to be a long night. And you have no objections whatsoever.

To be continued...

#fanfiction #smut #eddie munson #stranger things #1980s #hawkins #valentine fanfic #valentines day #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut

[page551]

How jdj is the side story. I know that LHH is the protag there and most focus is probably on him and his companions. But I just wanted ask for your opinion?

consulted my wife friend about this list so that i wouldn't miss the important moments. a little heads up this post will have side story spoilers

when hsy opens the door at the end of chapter 551, kimcom are sent to a snowfield with two doors in it. in one of them theres a happy ending. kdj woke up and is waving at them. in the 2nd door, kdj didn't wake up. yjh was the first one to enter the 2nd door, Unnoticed by anyone might i add. he's the one who opens the door and says "if it was him, i knew he'd pull something like this"

when we get 49 kdj's pov at the end of season 1 of the side story there's a small scene of yjh bringing 49 food. the scene is not described with full details however we learn that 49 has forgotten most things about yjh, to the point he doesn't even rmbr if yjh has cooked rice for him before. yjh then says this line to him "You don't need to be anything. All that matters is what you want to be" next morning 49 decides to go to the 1865th regression turn in order to help kimcom get back 51.

yjh comes back from a second journey of searching for kdj fragments together with biyoo. he notices that hsy has failed to stop the 41st round, and ignoring lsh's warnings that he's too strong to descend into the 41st worldline bcs the probability will kill him and destroy the worldline immediately once he descends. he says that hsy and ysa need to create conditions for him to descend because "Kim Dokja is mine to bring back" kr fans have noticed that this sentence has two major tones to it. 1, possessive and 2, arrogant. "kdj is mine to bring back since you (hsy) couldn't"

season 3 of the side story has a lot of focus on dkos kdj. he's now lhh's sponsor and talks to him thru midday tryst. and he brings up yjh So Often that even lhh is bored/baffled. not to mention he refers to yjh with a lot of affectionate terms "joonghyuk-ah this, joonghyukie that" recently even selena kim and christina page were all "????" when kdj called yjh "joonghyukie" in front of them

in the beginning of season 3, yjh noticed a source of light enter the "curtain of the 41st worldline" (listen mtl is hard please bear with me) and he immediately slams himself into it, trying to follow after the light. seeing as the curtain is burning him and "grilling him like fish" jaehwan (aka the mc of the world after the fall) has to forcefully pull him back as he shouts "are you crazy" at yjh. spoiler alert, yes he is crazy

not exactly an explicit moment per se, but every time lhh incites himself as kdj or yjh his first thought will always be of the other

in order to subdue an overpowered 41yjh hsy decides to give him happy memories. those memories included a scene where yjh was cooking for kimcom and hsy described it as "yoo joonghyuk was dying from happiness." then the scene quickly puts kdj in the center where he comments about how good yjh's food tastes and that next time they come here (a picnic) they should bring more beef. she succeeds in subduing 41 even though he has never actually met kdj before. later on we learn that 41 also got the memory of the rooftop conversation between kdj and yjh. and like. dare i say. he really sounded a little jealous/sulky abt it. not to call him sp or anything..............

there's a small flashback of a (not written in orv) scene set during 1865th turn. it's about lost memories. yjh tells hsy that he forgets lots of memories whenever he regresses but it's okay because even if he forgets that guy (kdj) will remember them for him.

recent addition: ORV: yjh: you bought a useless skill (preserve humidity) / lsh: but dokja-ssi also has this skill / yjh: kdj has this skill?? *contemplates buying it* |||| SIDE STORY: lhh: this guy (kdj) actually purchased a useless item? (neck pillow) / kdj: but yjh also has this neck pillow / lhh: yjh has this pillow? *after learning its advantages thinks it's a good item* (also kr fans speculate that it was kdj himself the one who bought a neck pillow for yjh)

#i stopped myself from mentioning the way kdj's fragments behave towards yjh btw #ask #orv #joongdok #side story spoilers #yoo joonghyuk #kim dokja

[seven-stars-in-his-palm]

okay so a couple of days ago i saw this ask on @fellshish's blog about a need for a full 1941 discorporated aziraphale angst fic, realized i had an entire outline already in the hull, and... this happened:

a "what if crowley didn't miss in 1941" fic, including but not exclusive to the moment itself, the hours leading up to it, and the aftermath; a fanfiction (chapter 3/4)

summary:

It's Fell the Marvelous' awaited debut performance on the West End. He has his marksman, his turnips, and things appear to be going as planned—that is, until said marksman does the one thing he was supposed to avoid. Not missing. (or: the bullet catch goes wrong, and due to a tiny technicality, crowley's afraid aziraphale is gone for good. and crowley himself—for the first time in quite a while—is well and truly alone.)

warnings: full of blood, sweat, kissing while crying, blown up heads, prayers, nostalgic churches, polaroids, alcohol, and aziraphale being a discorporated bastard and bitching his way back to earth while a plot we should probably be focusing occurs as we ignore it entirely. and written extremely slowly. oxymoron but i couldnt get this out of my head fast enough and now you must endure it (should you choose to accept). i think i'm gonna be pretty proud of this though. excited!

(also thank @tforthetea for the inspiration because a conversation with them helped spark this the first time. all hail)

ao3 link for those who didn't check the title, and fic under the cut! :)

chapter 1: number thirteen

One of the things Crowley liked gloating about on occasion was that he was older than Death Itself.

He wasn’t technically wrong, per se. The humans think him mad, and the demons think him stupid, but he was still right. Human concepts, despite their hold on the population and overall importance, were non-existent before or even during the Beginning. The Four Horsemen and other ideas evolved right alongside the humans, so technically, Crowley was older than all of them. He rather liked having something to lord over War (in his head), during the few unfortunate meetings he would have with her. Famine was a non-issue, and Death could not touch him regardless of how much he didn’t like him. There were failsafes.

Now, however, actually being in the room that Aziraphale could potentially walk into and never come out of, Crowley would gladly take all of it back and pretend he never even thought about it at all.

The damned magician. Crowley never caught his name, but if he had, he would wrought him with the most annoyingly small curses that no one would ever believe to be true after today. Tonight wasn’t just about impressing the audience or even repaying that wine-filled debt, it was about them. Tonight, Crowley was to play the trusted stooge, and…shoot the angel. Point blank. In the face. And make it look real. And not discorporate him. And not get them fired. And—

There were a lot of things to consider, alright? To contrary belief, Crowley did, in fact, not think Death was silly or stupid. He’d also been there when It was born, you know. Crowley liked Abel. Watching It happen was, plainly, fucking terrifying. It brought up something new, and change was just as scary as Death. Ask anyone, and they’d tell you.

Crowley has been running that unfortunate meeting involuntarily through his head for the first ten or so minutes of waiting for the actual show to begin, while also listing out the terrible things he would do to the magician man had he ever held the opportunity again. He’d been sort of gunning (no pun intended) to stay backstage and avoid the riffraff, but been ushered out the dressing room the second he’d given his (admittingly harsh) two cents on the situation. Aziraphale said he wanted privacy before the big show, but Crowley knew he was just ticked. Aziraphale was an angel who thrived with a supportive devil over his shoulder.

So, Crowley is just milling around in the crowd as the Allied soldiers and their companions filter in. They come and go—a Lady even comes to check on him at point, mentioning odd vacant gazes and looking over shoulders paranoid-like, but he waves them off before they can pry. He really shouldn’t be so worried—even if Aziraphale…‘didn’t make it through the night’, he’d eventually be fine. As long as he discorporated a certain way, nothing too lethal—some deaths were harder to come back from others.

They’ve been discorporated before, of course. That was how Crowley knew this. Six millennia offered many opportunities for the event. But never, and it was never, at each other's hand. On paper, yeah, they killed each other on occasion, but truly…

Crowley shifts nervously, sending a glare at anyone who got a bit too close, but the brief discomforts aren’t enough to lift his spirits. There was one entity faffing about who refused to bugger off even with direct acknowledgements, though that might be because Crowley was imagining It. Or It really was here, and interested in the affairs of potential angel discorporation. Or a bomb was going to fall here and It was just beating the rush. The theories were far from endless.

Death appeared back there as soon as Crowley had been kicked out. He’s simply been dealing with it since then, and It probably wasn’t helping to lift his spirits. He shouldn’t be so antsy—both logic and mechanics deemed it so.

They’d be fine, Crowley repeats to himself near constantly, finding a proper seat in direct line of sight where Aziraphale will be standing. He readjusts his tie as the humans sit around him, creating a perfectly isolated bubble of red velvet seats. What did it matter that twelve humans died doing this before? They weren’t human. Death had no claim on them. It couldn’t take them even if It so desired.

Crowley scowls at the hooded figure standing near the entrance of the theater, cold scythe gleaming under the warm bulbs of the West End. Its just…standing there. Making no move to come closer, either. Odd.

Crowley sinks lower into his plush seat, as if trying to avoid Death’s gaze. But being one of two immovable objects on this Earth, It’s always on him. If Death had a goal, there would be no point in warding It away.

Seeing Death is a famous bad omen, and would send a chill down his spine had it been anywhere else. At this moment, however, Crowley is simply irritated. If It was looking for another soul in this theater, that was fine by him, let It take them, but It would not be ruining whatever this was. Humans were ever plentiful—there was only one angel deserving of Earth.

Before Crowley can decide whether or not he should be stupid and confront the omen in the room, the lights go dim. The crowd’s murmurs die down, and Crowley has no choice but to stay seated and watch the show. Aziraphale wouldn’t be coming on until the Ladies of Camelot had their first number, but Crowley could easily endure it. The gaze aimed straight at his head could be ignored.

World be damned if It took the angel’s enthusiasm. They’d be fine. Crowley just has to remember that.

-----

Things are, indeed, not going fine.

Crowley is meant to go up on stage any second now. Aziraphale has no inkwell in his gloved hand. No amount of snapping is removing said turnip from line of sight. He reads the pamphlet—then again, then again, then again, but there is no second option for apparently miracleless individuals.

Fucking. Hell.

Whatever false bravado Aziraphale is spewing is null and void compared to the should-be-non-existent nerves running through frantic hands and finding absolutely nothing useful. Crowley flips through the same two pages—give the stooge the bullet, poise, and shoot. The miracle would’ve ensure that the bullet would never leave the barrel. But now—now, well, he really regrets not considering a Plan B. Did they ever consider a Plan B? Apparently not.

Getting there is a blur. Aziraphale is essentially shoving the rifle into Crowley’s care, which is honestly becoming a worse idea by the second. He’s switching between the demon and the audience so quickly that Crowley can’t tell who he’s addressing. They’re deathly quiet, and Crowley would feel embarrassed if his heart that shouldn’t be there wasn’t pounding with too much blood in too little time. His mind is a soup. Muddled, feverish, and incredibly foul tasting. You wouldn’t want to drink it even if you were starving.

“I would ask you,” Aziraphale says loudly, cutting through the fog of utter mental mush, “to take this bullet, and load it into the rifle. Very carefully.”

Crowley nods belatedly, squeezing and turning parts of the gun to get the non-existent warmth running back through his fingers. He takes the bullet, and turns it round a few times while Aziraphale stares at him with excruciating anxiety. Is he stalling? Honestly, even Crowley wouldn’t be able to tell you.

“It's perfectly simple,” Aziraphale mutters softly, pushing the gun a bit closer. “Aim for my mouth, but shoot past my ear.”

Crowley can’t find himself to agree here. He’s staring at him, and that would usually get him to listen regardless of shades, but Death is boring into them like the harshest of theater critics. His skin is slick, almost clammy, threatening to let the gun slip and fire a stray bullet anywhere but its intended target. His back is sore, oddly enough. Irritating.

Crowley has questions, like he always does, but the time has long passed. What he wants to ask is ‘do I just squeeze that little bit there?’ pointing at (what looks like) to be the trigger—but then that would just make Crowley look incompetent, so he swallows it back and nodly lightly. He’s never fired a gun like Aziraphale seems to believe whole-heartedly, but he’s certainly watched it happen. He’s picked up enough of the motions to figure it out on his own.

That thought still doesn’t help when he’s being told to insert the bullet, though. Crowley fumbles through it, opening a mislaid hatch or two, but manages before Aziraphale could raise any alarms. He’s already stood back in position (when did that happen?) when Crowley raises the loaded rifle for all to see, proclaiming as such. He bites back the tremor threatening to appear—he wasn’t nervous. Excited, more like it. Excited to finally get an excuse to make a throw at the angel non-suspicious like.

That was all it was. Really.

Crowley turns the rifle one last time as Aziraphale spins more useless pageantry for the audience to woo at. They’re both grinning, but tightly and annoyingly false. It wasn’t the eyes that were the problem—what, do you think that demons ever got stage fright? Absurd!

It was just...well, there weren’t just humans in this audience. Crowley couldn’t forget the shadow looming at the end of the theater no matter how tight he grips the side of the weapon. But, just like Someone had laid out all that Time ago—Death could only perceive them.

It could not touch them.

It would not touch them.

It would not touch him, if he could help it.

The drums begin their incessant titter as Aziraphale finally turns to Crowley properly, blue cloak glimmering under the warm light of the stage before them. “A-are you ready, sir?”

Crowley would scoff at this if he could. Sir. Only humans ever addressed him that way; angels look down on him, demons sneer at him. Though he supposes this angel would be different—always throwing the curveballs, him.

“When you hear my signal,” the angel says, voice growing quieter, “shoot.”

Aziraphale removes his tophat, revealing preciously white curls. This pings something, the remaining traces of damned sense he’s got buried inside. Crowley isn’t sure what has possessed him—but he shakes his head. It’s all he can do. Don’t make me do it, he nearly warns out loud. Not if you know what’s good for you.

Aziraphale stills, but not before mouthing words that would be akin to an ashamed mumble if he were close enough. Trust me.

Trust me.

Satan, he got him there. That’s why Crowley was here, after all. Stooge. 100% Reliable Marksman.

Right.

Aziraphale isn’t nearly as good as Crowley at hiding his anxious gaze. “Ready?”

Oh, Heavens no. He never would be, but no better time than the present. Or something like that. He can’t recall where it came from.

“Aim…”

Crowley can’t ignore it anymore—he’s shaking. Extremely so, at that. It’s knocking around the air in his lungs very unkindly. It’s quite difficult to aim. His head is bobbing around in the scope.

Just about…

There it is.

Crowley waits—just like he’s done for the last…however long. A long time. His arms are starting to hurt, frankly. He rests his finger over the trigger to ease the trembling a tad.

And the magician remains silent.

Crowley ignores the sweat crawling down his neck. (Wasn’t it supposed to be freezing?) He waits some more—it’s not like one can forget where you are. Benefit of the doubt and such.

Nothing still. Nary a nod.

He’s been staring at him for a minute. The crowd hasn’t uttered a peep. Is Crowley just supposed to…do it? Did they talk about this? They must have. They talked about this. They talked about it, right? Yeah. Yeah, they must have—

"Fire!"

He startled him.

The reason why he listens is easy to explain. Aziraphale made Crowley flinch. A bit of a spook, really, not that bad of a fright. A sudden jolt—a tap on the shoulder, one that said ‘oh, look, you’ve got perfect aim already! Shoot!’

And he did.

What’s the first rule of approaching someone with a weapon again?

Right. Don’t fucking scare them.

The handle is warm. Slick, heavy, shaky. The scope aims with guilty target missing at the helm. A puff of smoke is spewing from the barrel. A thump, a sickening thump, deafening in the cricket silence of a post-trick world.

And Aziraphale…is on the floor.

(Where else would he be, really?)

There, obviously. On the floor. With a blown-up head. Bleeding like blessed Heaven. Bleeding like bloody Heaven, while Crowley has to take in the sight and smell the blessed thing.

It fits. They fit. Like a perfect crown on a decapitated head.

God, his head’s just gone, isn’t it?

A noise cuts through the thick silence like a stubbornly determined knife. Far away, above it all, there it rings. It’s muffled, soft, and almost awkward in the way it cuts through the air. A camera click. A reluctant, malicious camera click.

And that was just the perfect way to say it, no? He blew his brains out. Crowley blew his angel’s fucking brains out with a fucking gun that he’s never fucking held before.

Trust me.

Well. That, no doubt, was Aziraphale’s fault—it’d be a funny old world if angels and demons went around trusting one another.

-----

hgh. hope that was decent. chapter two coming as soon as it can because im invested now :))

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens fanfiction #good omens 1941 #cw blood #cw guns #cw death #maniac writing #in a west-end town

[nethhiri]

Marooned: Chapter 43

Kid x FemReader x Killer

Warnings: Sex and violence (as always)

This one is a longer one bc I worked on it all week long. Hope y'all enjoy <3

Kidding Around

Killer helped you escape Kid's death grip in the morning so you could participate in the sunrise coffee ritual that you had established with him. It was clear that Killer was an expert after so long with Kid, switching you with a pillow that Kid then squeezed to himself. You stood on the bow with Killer, one of his arms casually around your waist. With him, silences weren't awkward. You watched together as the sun peeked over the horizon with its grapefruit-pink rays. They shifted orange then pale yellow as the dawn evolved. 

"What are your goals, Killer?"

"To make Kid king of the pirates."

"After that."

"I doubt Kid will want to stop pirating. Maybe we'll return to our hometown and turn it around. I could have a restaurant." Killer prompted, "And you?"

"I don't know anymore."

His hand squeezed your hip reassuringly. He had noticed that you stopped talking about your revenge as much and that you rarely checked your specialized log pose. He didn't think you had given up on it, just put it on the back burner. 

When the sun climbed high enough in the sky to clear the horizon, you squinted. There was a black shape. "Land ho!" You looked up to the crow's nest wondering who was up there. They weren't doing their job. You caught a glimpse of big, poofy, orange hair as Quincy darted away from the ladder, wearing just a robe, probably trying to avoid being seen before everyone woke up.

"That's odd. I thought Nu was on watch." 

"I think he had a visitor," you said with a cheeky inflection. That's cute. Quincy was with the other ginger on board, the one with the mohawk and tiny glasses. 

"Damn it. I told everyone to knock it off with that shit. They need to be alert."

"I would like to go on record to state I have never hooked up with anyone there."

"You haven't been up there with Wire then. He has a way of talking people out of their pants."

"WIRE?!"

"It's his secret talent."

"Has he....done that to you?" You bit your lip, eyeing him with curiosity. 

"Decline to comment." He headed towards the galley to start breakfast. "Come on. Everyone will be eager to eat and get off the ship."

This island was essentially neutral. There were pirates and marines alike, though the marines were few. They were probably only there to restock supplies. You smirked as you went by a group of them atop Mini's back, daring them to engage you as they stared wide-eyed at your jacket. They decided that you were simply an imitation. The real Sea Snake was dead, obviously. It would be unwise to put them down in public anyway, so you let them be. 

You had left before anyone could stop you, not that they would, but you didn’t want to be burdened with being dragged around for errands. Kid was quite disappointed when he couldn’t find you. He had gone into his workshop to see if there was anything he needed more of, and had finally noticed the small renovation you had done. He had wanted to take you with him while he did business before that, with the intention of ending up conveniently together just in time for dinner, and he wanted that even more now. Kid didn’t want to ask you on a date per se. He did want to be alone with you in a context other than the bedroom, however. You had been showing him favor lately and with the new information that you were similar to him in more ways than he thought, Kid felt more comfortable with the idea of getting close to you. Of course he didn’t like you like that. He simply thought you had potential to graduate from fuck buddy to fuck close friend.  There were a few things you wanted to purchase. First, though, you had been waiting for a chance to be in a more open area. It was very difficult to train with Mini on the ship, both because she was enormous and because you would break the ship. Plus, Mini could use a bit of exercise. Being cramped on the ship for too long wasn’t good for her. Mini walked until you were both deep in the forested part of the island, in a clearing. For several hours, until you were both out of energy, you practiced new skills and techniques. You flopped on Mini as she laid down, both taking a quick rest. 

Hunger woke you from rest. The sun was much lower than it had been when you had closed your eyes. Your nap went longer than intended. You felt very refreshed afterwards though, so you didn’t mind one bit. The two of you headed back towards the ship, Mini split off from you to return, while you kept going to find a place to eat.

Kid was in a bad mood. How hard was it to find a huge raging monster and a boar? All while he was taking care of some errands, he was keeping an eye out for you, but failed to catch a glimpse. Even when he came across the other officers, none of them had seen you either. The thought had crossed his mind that maybe you dipped on them, or worse, maybe someone had taken you. That thought bothered him more than he thought it would. Actually, the longer the day went on without finding you, the more he dwelled on it. He growled to himself, frustrated that he couldn’t shake you from his mind.

You found yourself in a dimly lit, grungy bar. Every man who initially approached you turned tail as soon as they saw your face, whether it was from your stank eye or from your scars, you didn’t know. You were leaned back with your feet kicked up on the table and a beer in your hand, somewhat tucked in the corner of the bar. You liked privacy and you liked being able to see the entire room, no need to look over your shoulder. 

The door swung open, a big red ogre behind it. He looked pissed and stomped straight to the bar. You were surprised Killer wasn’t with him, or anyone for that matter. You called a waitress over and handed her a note to deliver to him. You were going to send him a beer but the bartender put one down in front of him before he even asked. The waitress handed the slip of paper to Kid and scampered away, which was probably for the best since he whipped around angrily to see who sent the note. His eyes didn’t soften, but they did brighten when he saw that it was you. 

“What crawled up my ass?” Kid crumpled the note and threw it at you. He grabbed a chair and dropped his body into it across from you. “YER the one who crawled up my ass.” He pointed in an accusatory way.  Your eyebrow twitched up. “Me?” You looked him up and down. “If I was in your ass, you wouldn’t look so mad. I promise you that.” 

“Shut up.” Kid rolled his eyes. “I’ve been lookin for ya all day. Thought ya might have got stolen.”

“Bet you would have loved if someone took me off your hands.” You have him a questioning look. “But why? Need me for something?”

Kid reached across the table and tugged your collar. “Nah, yer mine now, girlie. They would have ta take ya from my cold, dead hands.” He grinned so big it almost split his face in two. “And that’s not happenin.” 

That made your heart quicken. You looking into his amber eyes, hiding your soft spot for him. “You still didn’t answer the question.”

”Ah, well,” Kid didn’t have a great excuse. He wasn’t going to tell you the true reason. “Was gonna see if ya wanted to spar with me.” What a dumb fuckin lame-ass excuse. Idiot! 

You shrugged. “Sure.” Weird that something as small as simply wanting to spar upset him earlier. There was definitely more behind it. 

“Really? I mean good.” He swirled the beer around in his mug.  There was a bit of an awkward silence. 

Clearing your throat, you mentioned, “I have some things to do first. Didn’t get to em today.” You tapped your fingertips on the table. “Was gonna ask Heat to come with me cuz I need more clothes and he’s good at picking outfits, but I guess you could come.” You quickly added, “If you want. Because it’s just easier that way.” The dim lighting hid the blush on your face. 

“Ha! I’m way better at picking outfits than Heat.” Kid leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms.

”Real outfits, Kid,” you warned, “Not lingerie.” 

“Yeah yeah. Real clothes. Whatever.” He waved you off, cursing you mentally for putting images of you in lingerie into his head.

You both sat and drank your beers, Kid propping his feet up on the table as well. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him stare at you a few times. What’s that about? Your ears perked up when some very drunk man was asking about how someone disabled could be a pirate, assuming they were talking about you with your missing eye. It was clear who they were talking about when he made a joke about an unarmed pirate captain.

It did tick you off when people talked about your imperfections, but fuck did it have you seeing red when you realized it was directed at Kid. You could tease him and make fun of him. You would NEVER bring his involuntary amputation into it, however. That was crossing a line. You don’t even think he heard it, judging from his lack of reaction and how he looked at you in confusion as you got up from the table. You didn’t feel like behaving tonight. There was an itch for violence that you needed to scratch. Maybe defending Kid was just an excuse to let some steam off. He certainly didn't need you to defend him.

”Wanna say that again?” You stood at the man’s table, palms resting flat against it.  The man grimaced when he saw your face. “What? You defending your cripple boyfriend? Seems about right an ugly cunt like you would be with him.” 

“It seems that you don’t know who either of us are.” You smiled at him and his companions. Anyone who had heard of Eustass Kid would know that he was far from incapable with one arm. “That’s cute. You must have been on the sea for what? Five minutes?”

The man’s companions laughed nervously as he kept up. “Bitch, if you’re not gonna take that prosthetic out and let me skull-fuck that butchered face, I would get lost.”

You reached up and pulled your log pose from your eye socket, rolling it around in your fingers. Faster than he could react, you grabbed his hair, slammed his face on the table, pulled it back up, and shoved your eye into his mouth as far back as you could push it. “Swallow it.” His eyes were wild and he clawed at the arm holding his hair. “I said SWALLOW IT.” 

He gagged and choked, holding his throat, before gasping for air. “WHAT THE FUCK?” His eyes were watery as he stared at you with bewilderment. 

“Actually, I’m gonna need that back.” You grabbed a steak knife from the table and grinned at him.

”No please…” The man was sweating, scared shitless.

“Apologize to him.” You pointed at Kid, who was still relaxed in his seat, enjoying the show. 

“I-I’m sorry, S-sir.”

”Eustass Kid,” you corrected.

The man’s eyes widened with realization, that he fucked up big time. He started to plead for his life almost immediately.

You thrusted the knife into his stomach and tore it open. “Unfortunately, I do still need that.” His hands tried to grab yours away but kept slipping from the blood. His screams were really fucking up the atmosphere of the bar. You pushed into the open wound with your hand, searching for your eye. “Skull-fuck, huh? You’re lucky I don’t have a dick or I’d fuck you right in this warm, wet hole of yours.” Your hand found what it was looking for and retrieved the small orb. Dunking it in his companion’s beer, you cleaned it off and stuck in right back where it belonged. 

His two companions, trembling and trying not to catch your eye, dragged him off, leaving a trail of blood behind. He might live. You thought about cutting his arm off since he had such nice things to say about Kid’s amputated limb, but what you did was much more satisfying and cruel. 

You felt a metallic arm pulling you into Kid’s lap. “Yer so fuckin hot when ya get like this,” Kid growled in your ear lowly.

You grabbed his beer, having finished your own, and chugged the rest of it. “This bar sucks. Let’s go somewhere else.” You trailed a finger down his exposed chest. “I feel like fucking some shit up.”

Kid’s signature laugh rang out through the bar. “Then let’s fuck some shit up.” He grabbed your chin. “How could I say no to a bonnie lass like yerself?” 

You made a fake retching noise. “Quit with that flattery bullshit.” Kid didn’t have to do any of that. If he wanted to fuck, you were down. “I’ll fuck you later.”

Kid frowned as you took his hand and dragged him out of his seat. He meant what he said. Of course, he wanted to fuck, too. Beside the point, you let Killer say nice things about you, but you didn’t take Kid seriously and that bothered him. 

You and Kid started a fight with anyone that looked at you sideways. Kid held someone still for you to beat up and you did the same for him, laughing maniacally as you did so. Alternating between knocking someone’s lights out, getting sloshed at different bars, and making out in dark corners, the two of you ended up walking to the very edge of the island. There wasn’t much else but beach here. You had no idea what time it was and no idea how you were still standing. Kid supported your weight as you walked through the sand in an incredibly unsteady gait. There was a piece of driftwood that was just big enough for you two to sit on. You leaned heavily against Kid and he put the excess fabric of his coat around your shoulders. 

For how drunk you were, Kid was impressed with how you deftly undid his belts and snuck your hand into his pants. It was known by now that arousal came as a package deal with your aggression. His thick shaft hardened quickly under your hand, happy to oblige whatever needs you had. Kid let his head fall back, enjoying the feeling of your small hand struggling to jerk him off. He let out an impatient huff when your hand started to slow, before stopping altogether. His amber eyes flicked to where your hand was limp around his cock and your head rested in his lap. “What the fuck?” That bitch fell asleep. Kid groaned. It was feeling so good too. He swallowed thickly. You clearly wanted to give him a handy, so there wasn’t anything wrong with helping you finish the job, right? He stuck his own hand down his pants and enveloped yours with his grip, tightening your hold on his cock. The feeling of doing something just a little bit wrong and in public to boot, sent a thrill right to his balls. He finished himself quickly with your hand, his pulsing cock emptying into it with a grunt. Kid snickered to himself with the thought of you waking up with your hand dried shut.

Kid had already pissed you off, not because your hand had been glued shut with his cum, which was admittedly funny, but because he had to put his two cents into every single thing you looked at. You wanted a second weapon to dual wield. You loved your gunblade and it was versatile though it still had limits. Every weapon you picked up, Kid chided you for picking something so low quality. You were deeply regretting inviting him along. You picked up a curved sword to inspect the blade.

”Shit metal. Shit craftsmanship.” Kid’s arms were folded and he looked just as annoyed as you did.

You finally stood toe to toe with him, pressing your finger to his sternum. “If you think everything in this town is shit, why don’t you make me something useful. Impress me, magnet boy.” 

“Magnet man.” Kid unfolded his arms. “Fine. I will. And it’ll be so good it’ll blow yer tits off.” He went to flick your nipple but you slapped his hand away.

After perusing possibly every weapon this town had to offer, you moved on to your next task: clothes shopping. Kid had actually picked out some tasteful outfits. He did manage to sneak a few, more risqué items in, though they were cute so you did entertain the idea of buying them. You also found a little outfit that Kid agreed Heat would be enamored with. You found a few more things, including some more bold choices, since you wouldn’t fit in without at least one pair of stupid ugly pants. You threw everything into a pile and returned with your normal clothes on. When you went to pay, the man behind the counter said that your boyfriend had already paid.

It shouldn’t piss you off but it did. “I told you to stop doing that shit.” You jabbed Kid’s side and grabbed the bag from his hands. 

“Doing what?” 

You couldn’t even say it without getting embarrassed. “You know.” You held the bag up. “The compliments and … nice gestures.” You huffed. “It’s weird. We’re not…anything.” Kid was just your fuck buddy, nothing more. No feelings were involved, or that’s what you told yourself. 

Kid knew that was true, though he thought he might want to be something to you. “Didn’t say we were. I can’t do something nice?”

”You’re Eustass Kid. You’re not nice.” 

“Whatever. Ungrateful hag.”  “Thank you. Much better.” You smiled at him.  Kid grumbled and complained for the rest of your shopping trip, eventually dragging you to a street vendor to eat since he was getting progressively more hangry. This time you paid, insisting on it to make yourself even with him. You both got some kind of saucy meat on a stick and found a tree to sit under. Kid wolfed his down in about a minute while you took a few more to finish yours. 

“What?” You said sharply, noticing Kid snickering at you.

”Yer a messy eater, ain’t ya?”

You froze as he used his thumb to wipe sauce from your cheek, popping it in his mouth. You huffed, mostly to avoid blushing. 

Kid seemed like he had something on his mind. “About the other night…”

”I won’t mention it. Don’t worry.” You knew he had a reputation to keep up.  “I was going to thank ya.”

”Oh. It’s not a big deal.” You sighed. “Listen I know what I just said, but it is refreshing to see that you’re not always a giant dickhead.”

He made a noise of acknowledgment. “We both loved her. Victoria. It was a child’s crush, but it was real enough to both of us at the time.” He had heard Killer explain some of it to you that night. 

”I never had anything like that.” 

“Would ya like to?” 

It was only human to crave affection, and you would be lying if you said you hadn't thought about it before. It would be easier not to have attachments holding you back. It may also make your life less depressing. There were pros and cons to each side. You never got far with the notion since there was no one you had been interested in on that level, or any level. 

Kid mistook your extended silence for offense. “In general. Ya know. Not … with me.” Unless she wants me like that. He let his voice trail off.

“That would complicate things.” You pulled your knees up and rested your head on them. 

“But it might be worth it.”

"Was it worth it to you?" 

Kid knew you were referring to their past with Victoria. "Aye." No matter how much it tore him up some days, he wouldn't trade it. As Killer said, you had to go through certain things to be who you were today, and Kid liked who he was and what he had in his life currently.

After dropping your bags at the ship, you walked with Kid towards the clearing that you and Mini found. A few minutes passed, filled only with the sound of chirping birds and leaves shifting against each other in the breeze. Your hands swung close enough to each other that you could feel the wind from Kid's hand. “I saw that ya missed me enough to connect our spaces again.” Kid teased. He couldn’t take the stretch of silence, not after the slightly down conversation from earlier, and he hadn’t yet gotten to mention that he noticed the change.

”Hypothetically, what if I were to say that I enjoy your company… occasionally.”

“I would say that of course ya do. Everyone enjoys me.” Kid had a smirk on his face, yet underneath, there was a big goofy grin threatening to break through ad your admission. 

“Mhm.”  “Hypothetically I enjoy starin at yer ass when yer workin,” Kid offered. 

”That’s not a hypothetical.”

The clearing was empty. It seemed as though no one else had found your spot. It felt odd to square up to Kid for a fight where you weren’t trying to kill each other for real. The agreed on rules were no use of devil fruit, but weapons were fair game. You could end the fight with one touch of your hand with your devil fruit, which is why you didn’t want to use it.

Standing across from Kid, you could appreciate his stature, broad shoulders, strong physique. He wasn’t cut like Killer was. There was a bit more meat to him, filling out his stomach in very pleasing way. You had to stop yourself from dwelling on it, or this was not going to be a fight at all. 

Kid came at you first. Normally you used your speed to dodge and land an attack in an opening. This time you blocked him. He did the same thing to your punch. It filled you with a sense of pride that you could match him in strength like this. The hits from his metal arm hurt worse. It wasn’t a conscious choice, but both of you had started by holding back, not completely willing to hurt the other. The competitiveness between you, however, quickly caused you to start putting your full weight behind everything. You could hear Kid growl as you narrowly avoided his fist, which instead splintered a tree trunk. You used the opportunity to land a kick in his side. He wheezed for a second before coming after you again. A big sweeping motion with his metal arm took you by surprise, knocking you to the ground. Using the momentum from rolling, you hopped back up in time to miss another attack from Kid. 

The taste of blood was in your mouth. It seemed he had split your lip. You licked the red liquid decorating your mouth, steeling yourself to get more serious. Pulling out your gunblade, you shot several times in seemingly random directions. It was habit not to shoot at Kid since his devil fruit could deflect bullets. Large branches from the surrounding trees fell around him in a way that made it difficult to dodge them all and forced him to remain in one space.

You followed right behind the branches, taking a running leap at Kid’s back. Before you could press your blade to his throat, he shed his feathered coat that you were holding on to, causing you to fall in an ungraceful way. You had to quickly roll to dodge Kid’s next attack. He had taken out his own gun and sent a bullet into the ground you had just occupied. 

Kicking out forcefully in Kid’s direction, you connected with his leg, destabilizing him enough that you could launch yourself from the ground to tackle him. He was quick to prevent you from getting him into a grappling hold. Kid grabbed your wrist and slammed it on the ground, forcing you to release your grip on your gunblade. In a flash he had both your wrists caught and your legs pinned under his own. Kid held his head back, knowing that your counter would be to headbutt him. 

The afternoon angle of the sun bounced orange rays from your fiery eyes, the light glistened off the thin sheen of sweat on your Y/S/C skin, and it lit your hair up like a flame, the way it was wildly strewn behind you only enchanted the effect. Kid was entranced by the heave of your chest as you caught your breath and the playfully aggressive gaze fixed on his own face. Red caught his attention, blood spilling slowly from the cut in your lip. Suddenly, he was transfixed by the crimson bead, lowering his mouth to meet yours, sucking the iron-tinged from your lower lip. A silvery thread of saliva connected you as he pulled away. He searched your face for any sign to stop and found only molten desire. 

There was a tangle of limbs, hands weaving through hair, sloppy wet kisses, and indecent sounds. Kid's weight pressed against you and his grip keeping you in place had placed impure thoughts in your mind even before he tasted the blood on your lips. That served only to add fuel to the fire burning deep within your core. Deep down you were mad about this weakness, the intense sexual chemistry you had with Kid. In this moment, you were in thrall to it, insatiably grabbing any part of him you could reach. 

A nervous clearing of the throat alerted you both to the presence of Pomp and Reck. Kid grabbed the gun he had knocked from your grasp and you pulled his from his bandolier, both sending a warning shot in their direction. 

"FUCK OFF!" You roared in unison, sending them racing off toward town.

"Can't. Get. Any. Fuckin. Privacy." He said between shoving his tongue down your throat. 

You could feel Kid's cock grinding into your thigh as he hastily ripped your pants down to your knees. You spread your thighs apart as far as the restricting fabric allowed to give Kid's hand access. His flesh fingers wasted no time finding their home in your dripping core, one after the other were inserted impatiently. The stretch as his fingers scissored your opening wider had you groaning into his mouth. Kid eagerly devoured the intoxicating noises slipping from your lips, each one causing his tip to drool. 

"Kid, I ngh-need it. Now." You panted out. 

"Yer not ready yet." 

"I don't care." You grabbed his dick through his pants. "Give it to me before I take it myself." 

Kid slipped a third finger inside, earning another sweet set of sounds from you. "Look at ya, rotten brat. Givin orders to me." He thrusted his fingers a few more times before removing them completely. 

You whined at the empty feeling. "Please." Your thighs rubbed together for friction. 

"Ya want this fat cock?" Kid freed said beast from the confines of his pants, stroking it slowly to give you a show.

You nodded vigorously, freeing your legs from your pants.

Kid pulled your soggy panties to the side, lining himself up with your slit and pushing his dripping mushroom head between your glistening folds. You wrapped your legs over his hips and pulled him inside yourself until you were completely full. Truthfully, Kid would have loved to drag this out and tease you a little more, but your wanton craving for him was really turning him on and there was no doubt someone else from the crew would come interrupt again soon. Kid's metal hand was big enough to wrap under you, holding your body in the palm while the thumb rested over your pussy. The cold metal against your clit was electrifying and you hissed through your teeth when Kid applied pressure. 

"Ya like that?" Kid moved his hand, effectively using you as a human fleshlight. "Yer gonna love this."

A cry of pleasure was ripped from your throat as Kid continued this movement, grinding his cock into your cervix, and added a low vibration with his devil fruit directly above your clit. With barely a warning, an orgasm crashed over you, making you shriek even louder. Kid narrowly held his own release back feeling the gush and pulsation of your climax. He continued to move you up and down his shaft, increasing the vibration in his thumb. The first orgasm was barely over before the second one overcame you. 

"Oh f-uck yes." You moaned. "Use m-me!" 

Kid's pace was erratic. The way your cunt gripped him with its gushy walls was enough to milk his balls dry. "That's right," Kid growled. "Yer my personal cock sleeve. Ya can't get enough of my cum can ya?"

"F-fill me up, C-Captain." You hand pressed down on the thumb of his metal hand, feebly attempting to grind your clit against the vibrations. 

Kid snickered, helping you out by increasing the pressure. Purple energy crackled around your collar as he tightened it around your neck. Your moans were raspier now, though just as needy. "That cunny of yers is suckin me in. She wants my cum so badly, aye?" 

You nodded your head, saliva pooling at the corners of your mouth, unable to swallow. Black tinged the corners of your vision. Your mouth formed a silent cry as Kid tightened your collar further, using you to get off. You twitched and trembled, a final orgasm taking you over. The tingling warmth enveloping you in a bath of endorphins. You were fully caught in your own pleasure, so much so that you missed Kid doubling over you, releasing a cry of his own as he emptied himself into you. He used your body to pump every last drop from himself. 

You gasped as he released his power, sucking fresh air into your lungs to quell your burning muscles. Kid removed himself from you and laid you down flat, pushing your legs back to admire his seed dripping from your hole. He wiped the drips with his fingers and pushed it back inside you, pulling your panties back over your cunt and giving it a pat. 

"Keep it all in, bunny, or I'll have to fill ya up again."

"Yeah? Not much of a threat is it?" You found your pants and dusted yourself off.

As soon as you had your pants on, Kid slung you over his shoulder and cracked your ass with his hand. "No talkin back."

About halfway back to town, Kid let you walk on your own two feet. "Can ya walk or are yer legs still jelly?" He kept his hands hovered above your shoulders in case you fell over.

You grabbed his coat for support. "I'm good." You thought he had picked you up to be an asshole. Was he trying to be helpful? You didn't complain this time. Your legs had been jelly. 

Kid took note of your hand moving from his coat to hold onto his arm. He let it stay. You only removed it when Heat stared at it too long, not even aware that you had still been holding onto Kid. There was an immediately coolness where his warmth had been, and the urge to keep holding him close surfaced. Kid had been thinking the same thing. He liked feeling your weight on him, feeling you rely on him. He wanted you to rely on him more and trust him with yourself.  

#please forgive me for taking so long #Big Red has me down BAD #I would sell my toes to have morning coffee with Killer fr #what y'all think about Heat smut next chap? cool? #one piece #eustass kid #massacre soldier killer #marooned #x reader #kid x reader x killer #killer x reader #eustass kid x reader

[amelikos]

As much as Dot's development revolved around food in the first two chapters (food as a way to connect with others, come out of her shell, and try out new things), I feel like they were kind of dancing around showing Murdock giving food to her directly?

The first time Dot ate something onscreen was when she tried out the donuts Murdock made for her back in HZ008. He left them in the kitchen for her and communicated through written messages to let her know about them, but he didn't give them directly to her. From then on, Dot gradually tried out new things. Liko included her in the picnic in her own way (with Murdock's help) in HZ013 and she enjoyed it. In the following episode (HZ014), we also know Murdock gave her breakfast (Friede asked him about it) and that she was happy about it. Even fastforward in HZ019, she was seen drinking coffee and Murdock asked her if it was too sweet for her and she replied to him without fully facing him. But in both cases, we didn't see Murdock giving her breakfast or coffee, it happened offscreen.

And in the other significant moments revolving around food for Dot (like the curry in HZ027), Murdock was acting more an an observer and watching from afar instead of getting involved directly. I think part of him doesn't want to come off as pushy or like he is forcing her (since we know Dot apparently almost blocked him over him sending her messages).. I think it really shows through in HZ039 when Dot wasn't exactly too thrilled about going out shopping at first and he immediately took her side and said that she didn't have to go (he didn't encourage her to go, but I think his reasoning was that he thought Dot needed someone on her side in this situation and he didn't want to get on her bad side or for her to dislike him if he told her to go out.. which is such an uncle-like reaction). In general, I think he both wants to respect her boundaries and do something for her even if he doesn't know what exactly, and while knowing she won't easily open up to him especially since he is her uncle. Which isn't exactly wrong per se, because Dot mostly needed a peer like Liko she could connect with and open up to, and that's why Murdock mostly watches over them instead of getting involved and doesn't interfere (though I also think he may be underestimating himself a bit on some level because while there are things only Liko or Roy can do for Dot as her friends, there are also things only Murdock can do for her).

Either way, that's why I thought it was sweet in HZ049 when Murdock told Dot that he brought cake for her. It wasn't "hidden", it wasn't something he said through a message, he said it directly to her and was happy at the thought of giving cake to her and being directly involved in that. Especially since food is his way to communicate and how he expresses love, so I feel like he is getting more open about showing his affection to his niece, and in turn, Dot is more willing to accept it.

#pokemon horizons #i think it's neat how their uncle and niece dynamics still has room to evolve in small ways like that #dot #murdock #hz049 #character notes #episode notes

[satureja13]

Beltane - Part 7 It all starts -> here (incl prequel)

A 'little' later than Ji Ho and Jeb, Noxee, Saiwa and Jack at the campsite got up too. And when poor Jack stumbled out of the tent, he almost choked at the sight of his beloved Noxee! She's so hot! Saiwa: "Noxee! Have merci!" Noxee: "Aww, our poor baby! I'll change into something more 'appropriate' and make us some churros, how does that sound?" And then she vanished and Jack cursed under his breath for not having a grip on himself. He wanted her to stay like this, just for a little longer... He's barely even seen her properly! Time he gets back ingame so he can meet the Queen again! And Lou. Distracting himself from Kiyoshi is already working just fine, that's a good sign!

And while Noxee was making the churros (that's the only dish she is able to 'cook'), Saiwa and Jack wandered around the campsite. If it's not too draining for Ji Ho and Vlad to let them travel around in the Otherworld with the TTT (Teleporting TukTuk), they should come here more often. Saiwa even found the bunny again!

Saiwa: "He's so cute, quiet and soft. Just the opposite of Jack ;P " Jack: "You know, everything we talked about yesterday, about not being able to get rid of Kiyoshi because of that fated mates thing, me prospering and unlocking my Super Soldier abilities. All that stuff frightened and intimidated me beyond measure. But!"

Saiwa: "But what?" Jack: "But you, my precious friend, who is like a dearest brother to me, already unlocked my ability to decide to let myself not get hurt when others throw their meanness at me :3 " Saiwa: "..."

Noxee: "Aww how sweet! Hahaha yeah, it's been like that since you two met at the lab three years ago!" Jack: "Right you are. Three long years Saiwa accepted many hardships to poke and pester me. As if he had seen it coming that I was going to need it one day ^^ I never got upset!"

Jack: "And I'm very positive that I, the Super Soldier, will suceed in my quest to defy Kiyoshi's influence over me and heal!" Noxee: "I think you should better use your Super Soldier powers to run from Saiwa before he throws that bathtub at you hahaha!"

And then Jack ran 🏃 But I think he has a point. Saiwa is the only one who gets upset at Jack's antics and scolds him. But it never hurt Jack (erm at least mentally. He gets hurt physically from time to time when he's running from Saiwa ^^'). He can work with that.

They ran a lap around the lagoon and then breakfast was ready. Saiwa was still a bit upset. And it didn't make it any better that Jack suggested to try the I-don't-give-others-power-over-my-feelings method on himself hahaha! Noxee: "Babies, let's eat!"

Noxee made very special churros for her Babies! They are sparkling like crazy! Noxee: "Made with extra love by an extra Queen for my extra Babies <3 " Saiwa is lost in thought. He has to face Jeb again soon. And then they'd have to part again when they head back home to Tomarang. He doesn't know what's worse. And Jack wishes he could eat Noxee's churros more often - without Greg at that, too...

Even though they are not blood related, they are like a little, dysfunctional family 💖

Outtakes

I mean, I get it that Saiwa refused to stay sit to eat because the flowers are placed at the counter. But why Jack? There is nothing! And why is Noxee eating while sitting even though there is an object at her counter? Omg this is so annoying! -.-

'Cerco l'estate tutto l'anno e all'improvviso eccola qua. Lei è partita per le spiagge e sono solo quassù in città. Sento fischiare sopra i tetti, un aeroplano che se ne va.'

'All year I'm looking for the summer and all of a sudden, here it is. She left for the beach and I'm alone, up here, in the city I hear wistling above the roofs an airplane that is leaving.'

Azzurro - Adriano Celentano

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest Current Chapter: 🕹️ 'The One' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

#therapy game #underwater love #saiwa #churros #jack callahan #run jack #beltane 2024 #jack hates greg #the game #campeggio 'fatoria di lama' #giga byte #noxeema jackson #Spotify #sims 4 vanilla #sims #ts4 #sims 4 story #simlit #simblr #sims 4 #show us your sims #terra amorosa #tartosa

[wildflowerteas]

hella got through chapter 6 everyone cheer!

i don't know how to respond to this coherently so i'm just going to scroll down and let the word vomit happen:

the choice of emoji reacts to some of these . . . i'm surprised hella hasn't killed you guys. keeping gin away from this mess is the last thing on my mind, unfortunately *stares at the BEAST tag*

ARRGHHHFGHHH IM SO GLAD YOU GUYS LIKE SSKK. they're such a breath of fresh air, and writing them comes so easily to me. while i like writing skk ( fucked up as they are--even at this point in the story ) and the fast-paced nature of their relationship, this is romance writing work coming from the guy whose only other fic had a first kiss at uhhh...160k words.

yesenina did serve too hard. i imagine her as similair to the others, but with a Rita Hayworth-like air of ambition about her, and that's a serve. and it's what gets her killed.

Chuuya Yuan history coming in SOON. actually. Next chapter. seeing hella lose it over Chuuya's internal monologue here has been absolutely hilarious and kind of rewarding. I Knew All That because I'm the author ( duh ) so i never really grasped how strange the shift to Chuuya's thoughts about the relationship would be. I mean there's snippets of it, like the diner scene, but you're right, it's fanfic and so that is a lot easier to sweep under the rug.

ACAB. I considered putting a line from Doc Riedenschneider in The Asphalt Jungle ( 1950 ) "Experience has taught me to never trust a policeman. Just when you think one's alright, he turns legit." in a divider chapter between part I and part II, but I thought was too on the nose following 7 ( and a bit pretentious considering this is just ao3 fanfic and not a published work or anything ) so i grabbed myself by the metaphorical monkey backpack and didn't. Mafia Nepo Baby 😭 I love Hella HUGE WIN FOR ME. I was so nervous because i needed to balance Chuuya being observant but also quite literally *out of the loop.* He's not from the same world as Dazai--he's not involved with the murders or the politics or the mess going on yet. He comes across as oblivious at times because Dazai's POV is purposefully designed to make you see him that way. Dazai's so sure he's in control of what Chuuya knows that he doesn't realize he might have met his match.

ZSKK are uhm. yeah. all im gonna say there.

the "PARDON." IM CACKLING

argh. the switch up with this chapter...why the hell am i getting nostalgic for something i wrote less than two months ago ( ican't believe i've been grinding through this fic so fast jesus ).

i love unhealthy dynamics, truly. this fic was really a test to see if i could write soukoku making each other worse. which is a pretty stark contrast to my other stuff.

HELLA. OH MY GOD. that bit about their careers . . . i can't believe she noticed that. Chuuya started the fic genuinely ambitious, wanting the spotlight, wanting to defy expectations set upon him by his looks, his race, and his past. Dazai's a cop, sworn to uphold the law, but he doesn't feel like a good person. He can't ( interlude chapter . . . stares out the window ), but he can use everything about who he is to give Chuuya the life he wants. like a guardian ange--*gets taken out by a sniper chapter 8 style* Their original goals aren't gone, per se, they've simply been reoriented.

can't wait for chapter 7

i know it'll make Hella want to hunt me down for sport, so i'll sleep with both eyes open for the forseeable future.

#ask

[jelzorz]

Not a ship, but I'd love to hear more on how Claudia and Opeli's dynamic works in the snake! Correct me if I'm crazy (I sped through all the chapters and haven't re-read them yet), but I don't think they've had a ton of interaction yet? Or even just less general sisters-in-law headcanons, if you didn't wanna give fic details away!

OH CAKE I WOULD LOVE TO TALK ABOUT OPELI AND CLAUDIA AS SISTERS IN LAW! @raayllum and I were talking about it once the concept of them as sister-in-law threw is both for a loop for a second but nevertheless

I actually have a wip in my drafts about how Claudia finds out. She comes back to the castle and is relegated to the castle gardens to tend to their medicinal plants as per her sentence of service and starts to notice... some things. Soren and Opeli are hanging out a lot when she returns, and even though they're not really doing anything (yet), Claudia is also familiar with Soren's tells and starts to wonder if there's something she should know.

She says nothing though. She tells no one. It's Soren's business and she doesn't think Opeli would appreciate being asked. She'll admit she's a little surprised because historically (according to Claudia), Opeli's never liked them, but things have changed and. Well. Okay.

Meanwhile, Opeli is. Cautious. To be fair, she was a little wary of Soren when his allegiances were still ostensibly to Viren, but she learned quickly enough that he wasn't like his dad At All, especially after he got her, Corvus, Barius, and most importantly, Ezran out of Katolis during Viren's coup in season 1. She can extend that same grace towards Claudia on her return, especially because 1) Ezran vouches for her and insists they give her a chance, and 2) Soren wants to keep his relationship with his sister. She isn't Welcoming exactly, but she is less hostile than certain other people for sure.

So for a little while they don't have a lot to do with each other. Claudia is very quietly keeping tabs on the way her brother behaves around Opeli, but so too is Opeli keeping tabs on Claudia's interactions with Ezran. She doesn't approve per se, but she also can't say anything about it because. Well. You know.

Quick recap from the fruit: Rayla is about 20 weeks pregnant when Claudia comes home and goes into labour in the early morning at the end of that summer. She has a bleed shortly after her baby is born, but it's not one the midwives can control with their standard procedures. Normally, women with bleeds like the one Rayla has die, but Claudia is present and knows exactly what to do. The midwives let her in, Ez fetches the appropriate remedy, Rayla comes out of it fine. By this point, Ez and Claudia are a little more than friends but not formally courting, and after they know Rayla's okay, Soren makes it clear that he isn't just hanging around Opeli for fun. Their physical fling starts shortly afterwards.

No one says anything about anything. Opeli and Soren's thing is supposed to be a secret but Claudia's been onto them for ages, and she Knows what's up the moment Soren appears at breakfast looking a bit more cheery than usual. Opeli is still wary about Claudia hanging around Ezran but won't let herself say anything about it because of the thing with Soren. They're not Friends at all, but there's a sense of respect there, and there's enough of it that they don't pry into each other's business more than they need UNTIL

Opeli misses a bleed and starts throwing up. She essentially breaks up with Soren in her panic but won't go to Claudia who 100% has the herbs that she needs because her brother is the reason Opeli needs them at all. Rayla goes in her stead and tries to be vague about it. Claudia admits she already knows what's going on. She hands over the herbs and keeps her lips tightly sealed.

[insert the rest of the fruit here]

They have a proper talk about it after Opeli is released from the infirmary. Fresh starts, you know? The bottom line is that they want one thing from each other, and that is to keep their boys safe. Claudia swears on her life that she would never hurt Ezran. Opeli swears to LJ that she would never hurt Soren. After that, they are considerably warmer to each other and frequently have tea together with Rayla to get breaks from the dumb ass things the boys get up to.

It's a shame BC the snake starts off with Claudia saying some nasty things to Opeli in light of the situation with Viren but in this timeline, they actually get along fine! Opeli's heard worse and she doesn't hold it against Claudia, and ultimately, she's advocating for Viren—which is something she never thought she'd do, but something that Claudia is ultimately grateful for. I won't spoil the snake, but things get better again for them and altogether, they make p good sisters-in-law.

#sorpeli #claudiez #rayllum #canon crack quartet #THANK YOU CAKE THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN TO ANSWER

[sparkles-rule-4eva]

New chapter of the Wachowski Family One-shots is out!

I already posted it on AO3 and Wattpad but I'll share it here as well :3

The Wachowski Family-

"Going to the Pool"

Summer had been in full swing when Knuckles and Tails had first joined the Wachowski family, and even though it was beginning to wind down, school hadn't started yet, and the hot weather had yet to cool down. So, in an attempt to find something fun and together to do on a free weekend that both Tom and Maddie had off work, they decided to take the kids to the local pool for the entirety of Saturday.

When they'd called their trio together and announced the weekend plan, Tails had gotten excited and started cheering, saying things like "I saw kids go there for so long, it looks so fun, thank you guys so much!"

Knuckles had seemed interested, not excited per se, but interested in going. He'd smiled at his youngest brother's eager anticipation and decided that it would be beneficial to their bond as a tribe (which was what he'd taken to calling their family).

Meanwhile, Sonic had just stood there, silent for once, his eyes wide and . . . troubled?

As Tails flew back up the stairs, still happily rambling, Tom had knelt down beside the hedgehog. "Is everything okay, bud? You don't seem all that excited at all for this."

Sonic had tried to brush it off, insisting he was fine, that he'd just spaced out and was distracted by homework. He'd made it clear he didn't want to talk about whatever was bothering him, so Tom hadn't pushed too hard, but he privately informed Maddie about the odd situation later and asked her to help him keep an eye on their middle child.

Sonic was a good kid, a great kid. But he did have a lot of troubles from his past, troubles that were sometimes impossible to get him to talk about and help him with. And since they didn't want to force him into uncomfortable, possibly triggering conversations, they just let him know they were there for him and that he could come to them with any problem he had.

So here they were, 10 a.m. on a hot Saturday morning, pulling into the parking lot of the public pool. The boys didn't technically need swimming trunks, but they'd thought they looked cool, so they each had gotten their own pair. "Group of five, please," Tom informed the guy at the front. "All three under age 17. We'll be here till 4."

The guy glanced at the three alien boys, the younger two of which were bickering over whether or not zombies still biologically counted as humans, and chuckled. "I believe it."

While Tom paid for their visit, Maddie reached back and flicked both Sonic's and Tails's ears playfully. "Come on, guys, it's not that important. Don't argue."

"It's very important!" Sonic insisted. "What if we ended up in a zombie apocalypse one day? We'd have to know so that Tails could possibly make a cure! But like, if they're not human, then I don't think that'll work. Because . . . that would be like giving cold medicine to a . . . giraffe. Wait— do you think cold medicine would work on me and Tails? And Knuckles? What if—"

"We're in, boys!" Tom called back, cutting off Sonic's ramblings. "Let's-a go!"

Knuckles sighed. "Mother, he is copying the Italian construction worker again."

Maddie snickered, then nudged him and his brothers through the gate to the shower room for the men. "I'll see you guys on the other side."

Once they were all on said other side, Tails immediately made a beeline for the nearest bit of pool and jumped in with a whoop of glee. Knuckles smiled and followed him, calling, "I will make sure you stay safe, little fox!"

Maddie headed for the beach chairs, wanting to heat up in the direct sunlight before getting in the water. Tom was just about to follow his two newer boys in when he realized Sonic was still lingering back by the door, his arms pressed up to his chest, eyeing the water with a glint of . . . was that . . . fear in his eyes?

With a concerned frown, Tom stepped back out of the water and headed back to his kid. "You coming in, Sonic?"

The little hedgehog jumped at the sound of his name, his eyes somehow growing wider. "I— n-no . . . I'm . . . just gonna go sit with Mom, if that's okay," he mumbled, slinking uneasily along the side of the pool to where Maddie was reclining.

Tom watched him go, remembering the kid's first reaction to the pool announcement. For a kid who talked almost nonstop, getting to really know Sonic the way any parent should know their child was unbelievably hard. Basically, they only knew what he told them and what they managed to catch through observations. Tom tried to think back through all the time they'd had him, trying to find a clue to why he so obviously didn't want to be here. Had he said he didn't like the pool? Or didn't like swimming—

The memory hit him like a brick over the head, making him wonder why he hadn't thought of it before.

"I can't swim!!"

Gasping words, flailing limbs, when he'd once fallen asleep on a fishing trip and tipped out of their rowboat.

That was why he didn't want to join them. He couldn't.

But . . . they could teach him. Didn't he know he was safe with them? That they would never let him drown on their watch?

Maybe there was more to it than that.

Tom considered getting out and going to talk to Sonic about it, but he could see Maddie sitting up slightly, saying something to him. And based on Sonic's body language— knees tucked to his chest, half curled into his spiky ball, the position he got into whenever he didn't feel safe and the threat wasn't Robotnik— they weren't just discussing the weather.

So he decided to trust his wife to handle it, and went to join his other two boys.

-

"You're sure you don't wanna get in, hon? You look a little overheated. Especially with all your fur."

"I'm sure." Sonic's response was mumbled, almost grouchy sounding, and he wouldn't look at Maddie.

She studied him. Tom had told her a couple days prior that he'd seemed uncomfortable with the idea of the pool day, but refused to talk about it. They'd come anyway because Tails and Knuckles had wanted to do it, and Sonic hadn't asked them not to.

But now . . . he looked so miserable, and it broke Maddie's heart. With the longing way he stared at his brothers and father laughing and splashing in the water, it seemed he did want to. But for some reason he thought he couldn't.

She tried to start small and gentle with questions. "Have you ever gone swimming before? Like this, for fun?"

". . . No." His voice was muffled, words spoken into his arms and knees.

"So . . . do you know how to swim?"

He didn't say anything aloud this time, but his silence was enough of an answer.

"Because," Maddie ventured carefully, "if you don't know how, we could always teach you . . ."

"I can't��!" Sonic broke off quickly, but he'd already said enough, although Maddie wasn't sure why he thought he couldn't learn.

They sat in silence for the next minute, until she finally added, "We're not gonna force you to do anything you don't want to. We just want to help. We don't want you to be upset when everyone else is having a good time."

Again, Sonic didn't answer for a while. But after another few minutes of people-watching, he said quietly, "I don't like water."

"Yeah?"

"I really don't like water."

"Alright." He was building up to telling her something, she could tell, but she didn't ask more questions. She would let him open up in his own, comfortable timing.

"I mean, you can't run in water. Can't breathe in water."

"You're not wrong."

"And water could kill you, too. I should kno—" Again he broke off quickly, lowering his head and almost curling up completely, while Maddie slowly sat up straight.

"Hold on, sweetheart, back up." Her heart pounded in her chest, ringing in her ears in sudden anxiety. "Does that mean— have you . . . you almost drowned once?"

This round of waiting in silence was significantly more agonizing than the previous ones had been, and the fear only heightened when he finally muttered in response, "Maybe."

"W-What happened? When?" If only he knew how hard she was fighting to keep her voice calm.

At this point in the conversation, Sonic was almost completely curled into a ball, with only his nose and eyes poking out, and he was staring at nothing. His ears were flat, and his breathing sounded just a little too fast as he replied quietly, "Actually twice. Didn't make it across the ocean to the Master Emerald island. Robotnik took the Emerald and the maze collapsed. Water came in. Knuckles got pinned underwater. Tried to save him. Blacked out."

"Were you— how did you get out?"

"Knuckles."

It was . . . unlike him to be talking in such short, stunted sentences, and in such a quiet voice. It was worrying, especially when she realized he was ever so slightly trembling.

Then the worry got a whole lot worse when electric sparks started flying from his quills, and his troubled eyes started to flicker blue.

"Hey, hey, hey, honey it's okay." Maddie quickly moved just a little closer, reaching a hand towards him. "If you don't want to talk about this anymore, that's okay!"

Having noticed what was going on, Tom had scrambled to get out of the water and was hurrying towards them.

"Hey bud, what's going on?" He was trying not to sound too worried, but Maddie could hear the undertones in his voice. "Buddy? Can you talk to me?"

"I'm sorry," the boy mumbled, starting to take deep, soothing breaths the way Maddie had taught him. "I'm trying."

"We can drop the conversation, honey," Maddie reassured him. "You don't have to go in if you don't want to."

Some of the stress left Sonic's eyes as she spoke, but sparks were still flying.

"What else do you wanna talk about? Oh! Would you think vampires would count as humans?"

A tiny snort escaped him at her attempt of more fun conversation, and they counted that as a small win. "Maybe. Don't they have fangs and different blood though? Would that change them enough?"

Good, it was working. "I don't know," she laughed. "Would that mean they'd need a shot for medicine instead?"

"Probably." The blue in his eyes began to fade back to green as he relaxed. "Me and Tails should write a research paper about it later."

"Do my ears deceive me?" Tom pretended to gasp in shock. "You're saying you want to write a paper?!"

Sonic giggled a little at his father's exaggerated tone. "It'd be a fun topic. I still don't want to write papers about some politician from the 1800s who had a boring life."

"Fair." Maddie laughed, inwardly heaving a sigh of relief as the last of the sparks on him vanished.

They sat in more comfortable silence, although she was still trying to calm her racing heart at the thought of her little boy nearly drowning, not once, but twice, and not telling either of them.

Then again, that was just like him. He'd never liked to talk about the more painful parts of his life. He much preferred to live in the present, which was good and fine. They just didn't want him to be running away from his traumas instead of getting help with them.

So it was a bit of a surprise when he actually the broke the silence again a few minutes later with "How deep is the shallow part of water here?"

"It's about three feet, assuming you're not talking about the baby pool," Tom told him, and Sonic made a face at the latter half of the sentence.

"So just a little shorter than you," Maddie added.

"How can water be short?"

"Would you rather me say 'shallower than you'?"

"Ah. Yeah, no."

"Uh huh."

A pause. "So . . . maybe I could . . . try. A little."

Hope lit in Maddie's chest. At the very least she'd expected him to possibly suggest learning next time they went swimming, so it wouldn't be too fast and too much at once. It was an encouragement that he was willing to try.

Again, that was just him, the way he was. He was willing to face his fears. Just like he must've done before.

"Of course," Tom replied brightly. "Try not to worry too much. We won't let anything happen to you."

Sonic smiled sheepishly. "I know."

-

The lessons went fairly well, even though they ended up taking up the entirety of their time there. Tails and Knuckles, much to their parents' pride and relief, were thrilled to see him edging into the water and spent most of the lessons cheering him on (in their own individual ways). It wasn't that Sonic was afraid to touch the water, it was more the feeling of being submerged that made him nervous. He hesitated after wading in to about his knees, but with a constant barrage of encouragement from his parents and brothers (plus the close presence of both Tom and Maddie on either side of him) helped him take the remaining steps until he was standing on the bottom of the shallow end.

From there, they showed him how to use his hands as scoops and paddles for propelling, how to balance that with kicking, and how to float on his back (which he actually picked up really quickly). He still panicked every now and then, mainly when he slipped underwater, but Tom or Maddie were always there to pull him back up.

As they drove home that evening, Maddie nudged Tom's arm as she heard the boys talking in the backseats.

"Did ya have fun?" Tails was asking, presumably Sonic.

Smiles crossed both of their faces as he replied with breathless excitement, "Actually, yeah! I mean, it was a little scary—" He lowered his voice for that part, although both parents still heard— "but I'm actually looking forward to next time so I can learn some more. Hey, maybe we could try swimming in the lake!"

"But there's fish," Tails argued. "Plus, that water can't be sanitary."

"It's swimming, not taking a bath. It doesn't have to be sanitary."

"Eww."

"The hedgehog is right!" Knuckles' voice piped up cheerfully. "Swimming is meant to be unsanitary! Like the fun, like you told me about the mud puddles last week!"

"Hey, shush!" Sonic's voice hissed, and Maddie snorted.

"Guess we found the culprit of the muddy footprints on the back door carpet," Tom called to the back, and the three boys collectively groaned.

"It was Tails' idea," Sonic complained.

"It was not!"

"But it was the fun!"

"You mean 'it was fun.' No 'the.'"

"C'mon, Tails, don't be the grammar police. I like his funky way of talking."

"I do not speak funky!"

Tom leaned over slightly. "Successful trip, I'd say?"

Maddie nodded, smiling. "Success for sure. No one got electrocuted, and we finally got him starting swimming lessons."

And hearing the word "funky" come from Knuckles' mouth had the rest of them laughing and giggling for the remainder of the trip home.

--------------------------------------------------

It's time to FAACE YOUR FEEAARRSS

Hope y'all enjoyed!

Wattpad version

AO3 version

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sth #sonic wachowski #tails wachowski #knuckles wachowski #tom wachowski #maddie wachowski #wachowski brothers #wachowski bros #wachowski family #the wachowski family #fic #one shot #my writing #fanfic #also on ao3 #also on wattpad #going to the pool #green hills #scu #sonic cinematic universe #sonic movie universe #movie sonic #movie tails #movie knuckles #they're a family your honor #traumatized kids #fears #minor angst

[geralts-yenn]

Believe in Me - Chapter 4

chapter warnings: biting & vampire stuff, mention of sex

word count: 3,2k

A/N: So this chapter was a little hard to write. I had plans. And sometimes, as a writer, your characters just don't follow your plans. This is not what I wanted it to be. It is confused and blurry. But it is what it is, and it has its reasons to be like this. I really hope you like it regardless...

Inspo boards for this chapter are here 😍

Please let me know what you think - reblogs and comments are always the way to make me happy! Tumblr only works if you reblog. Help me to keep this story alive 😘

Series Masterlist

“Let me take you somewhere a little more quiet, okay?” Melot asked and held out his hand for Aurora to take. She took it, ignoring the fast beating of her heart that felt like her chest was going to explode. Melot skillfully maneuvered them through the crowd towards a door at the far end of the club. There were two security guards standing on either side, obviously vampires, too. 

The two men just nodded as Melot stopped in front of them to open the door. Melot guided Aurora to go first, and she glanced into a new corridor. On either side, there were compartments, separated by heavy velvet curtains. The noises coming from some of them made it quite clear what was happening behind.

Aurora nervously looked at Melot. That wasn't what she intended. Not that it was completely out of question. In fact, she had thought about Melot in this way longer than she should have, last night.

But she didn't want this to happen so soon. Being physically near to someone made Aurora feel too vulnerable. 

The thought made her chuckle nervously. Wasn't it stupid that she trusted Melot enough to let him bite her, but not enough to let him fuck her?

But, it wasn't. Letting vampires feed on her was going to be her job soon. She better get used to it.

Melot frowned at her chuckling.

"Sorry for this." He gestured towards the curtains. "This is not what I am heading for. It's just the only way to get to my room."

They arrived at another door. The carved wood and iron angles made it appear as if it was hundreds of years old. But the fingerprint lock next to it, with which Melot opened it, destroyed that picture.

Another corridor was lying in front of them. Aurora thought how this whole building must be kind of a labyrinth.

This time Melot didn't lead her through the whole hallway but guided her to a door on the left. Another fingerprint lock and they had finally arrived at his private place.

Aurora glanced into the room before her. It was spacious, there were bookcases along the walls and a huge entertainment center in front of the biggest sofa Aurora had ever seen. In the far corner there was another door.

Despite everything being so big, it felt comfy and inviting. 

"So, this is where you live?" Aurora was surprised. Not about the room per se, but the location in the depths of a nightclub. Well, she didn't know next to nothing about vampires, so she didn't really know what to expect at all.

Melot shook his head. "No, not exactly. August owns a huge mansion and he lets us live there with him. But, sometimes it's a little crowded over there. And then I come here to get some peace. This is my little fortress of solitude"

Aurora couldn't help but laugh at the thought that someone would choose a nightclub to get some quiet. That made her very curious about Melot's actual home.

Aurora sat down on the sofa, and it was as comfortable as it looked like. But she was far from able to relax. She fiddled with her hands and bounced her foot.

Melot took the place next to her and took her hand once more.

"Do you want a drink? Or something to eat?" He seemed nervous, too. Which led Aurora to feel even more on edge. The atmosphere in the room was tense.

She needed to get it done so she could finally breathe again. 

"What do you expect from me?" she asked. 

Melot guided her with his finger on her chin to look at him and locked his eyes with her. Aurora felt like this took a lot of the tension from her.

"I don't expect anything from you, love. just let me guide you through this. Do you have any questions?"

Aurora snorted. "A thousand, probably. If I could get my brain to work." Both of them smiled. "First of all, does it hurt?" Aurora's voice was hoarse.

Melot nodded understandingly. "Most likely, it will hurt a little. Our saliva contains some kind of painkiller though and also enzymes that make your wounds heal faster. They should be gone after a week." Aurora could live with that. She wasn’t sensitive when it came to pain. She was used to being hit by her father, after all.

Melot went on providing her more information: “Easiest way for feeding would be your wrist. It doesn’t take a lot of physical proximity. It's easy for you to withdraw if you don’t feel well. Also, our security persons can check easily if you are okay. Most donors start with their wrist only.” As if to make her more comfortable with the idea of getting teeth pierced into her flesh, Melot rubbed his thumb in small circles over the veins of Aurora’s wrist. She took a deep breath and nodded for him to go on.

“If you permit someone to feed on your jugular, you can charge more for that. Most vampires prefer feeding from a neck over a wrist. So they are willing to pay for that benefit.” Aurora saw how Melot’s gaze fell on her neck as he mentioned it, and she also noticed how he absentmindedly licked over his upper lip. “What more can I tell you?” he asked, cocking his head. He thought about what more information Aurora should have before she was ready to take this to the next step.

But Aurora interrupted his thinking when another question came to her mind. ”What does it feel like for you? Is it just like eating for us? How do you feel towards the person you are feeding from? Isn’t it weird to be that near to someone you don’t know?”

Melot chuckled. “Good question! Actually, it can be very weird, yes. Most vampires prefer to keep coming back to the same donors, building a relationship with them. Biting someone can be something very sensual. But if you know it’s just a business, you usually try to suppress these kinds of feelings.” 

So, there was more to it than just offering a snack to someone. That's what she already suspected. Aurora was glad that she had asked Melot to guide her through that first bite. She couldn't exactly explain why, but she trusted him. 

"Thank you for your patience with me." She gave him a small smile that couldn't hide her nerves. "I guess not all vampires will be that gentle with me."

Melot took both of her hands in his and his warm gaze wandered over her face. He wished he could give her a better answer.

"There will be some that won't see the need to make you feel comfortable. But you will be safe with us. I promise I won't ever let anything happen to you." Aurora felt like she would drown in his crimson eyes if she wouldn’t turn away soon. But she didn’t want to fight the feeling anyway. Instead, she leaned in, her face only an inch away from his. Melot cupped her cheek in the softest caress. “You’ll always be safe with me,” he whispered. Aurora knew there was no chance of denying what she wanted to happen and she closed the last distance, pressing her lips onto Melot’s mouth. Their kiss was slow and gentle, almost careful. Aurora was still wondering how soft Melot’s lips felt when he pulled back. 

Aurora smiled shyly at him. All the things she felt right now seemed to overwhelm her. She was breathing heavily. “Melot, we need to get this feeding thing done, or else I will lose my mind.” 

His expression changed, showing confusion and insecurity. Melot usually knew exactly what to do when it came to humans, but right now, he wasn’t sure if he had overstepped a line that he shouldn’t have. Did he misinterpret Aurora’s signals? No, she had initiated this kiss, right?

Thankfully, Aurora clarified what she meant: “I want you to kiss me, but I am so awfully nervous as long as I still don’t know what to expect. I need this out of my head. Please, show me.”

Melot wrapped his hand around Aurora’s wrist carefully and guided it to his lips. She could feel his lips brush over her skin when he spoke:

“I will try to be as gentle as possible.” With a last reassuring glance, his tongue brushed over her pulse and then she felt his fangs pierce her skin. 

It hurt. Of course it hurt. But somehow it also felt good. Like getting wrapped into a warm, soft blanket. Aurora shut her eyes and leaned into Melot's chest as he drank from her wrist.

Like that, she couldn't see the change in Melot's face. His eyes were wide open in surprise and an excitement fell upon him. He clenched both his hands around Aurora's arm, desperately sucking in what was the sweetest thing Melot had ever tasted. 

He knew he had to stop, but it was so hard. He just wanted to stay like this forever, to taste her, to feel her power in his mouth.

When he finally found the strength to pull back, Aurora was weakly lying in his arms. Melot licked the last drops of blood from his lips and tried to make sense of what had just happened.

This was nothing he had ever experienced before. He felt so good, so powerful, almost invincible as long as he fed from Aurora. And even now, it still felt like all his senses were sharpened, intensified, increased. 

Melot heard Aurora's heart thumping weakly in her chest. He needed to take care of her. He had promised to keep her safe.

Melot cradled her in his arms and carried her to the next room that only consisted of a huge bed. Carefully he laid her down onto the soft bedding and focused on listening to her pulse. It was weak but steady. 

Thank god, he had managed to stop before he had seriously harmed her. Melot curled up on the bed behind her and took her in his arms. His hands caressed over her arms and from time to time he pressed soft kisses on her temple. 

After a while, Aurora started to come back to consciousness. She moved in his arms and a sigh escaped her lips.

"Shush, I got you. I got you, Aurora." Melot brushed strands of her hair behind her ear and kissed her cheek.

Aurora slowly blinked at him.

"Is it always like this?" she asked, her voice weak and hoarse. Her eyes fell shut again.

Melot felt a huge weight crushing his chest.

"No, it shouldn't be like this. I am so sorry, Aurora. I should have stopped so much earlier. I just couldn't. I have never tasted anything like you." But Aurora just smiled softly, her eyes still closed.

"I like being in your arms. Can we rest a little more?" It was almost like she was drunk. 

Melot decided it was best if they both calmed down, and so he just kept Aurora in his arms while he was trying to understand what made him feel so incredibly awake.

Two hours later, Aurora woke up again and, as if nothing bad had happened, she was smiling at Melot. "Hey!" She just said. Melot looked down at her and when he saw her soft look, he smiled at her too. He was incredibly thankful that she didn't seem to be upset over him losing his control. 

"Hey, sweetheart. Are you okay?" Aurora hummed affirmatively and snuggled into Melot's chest which he replied by kissing Aurora's forehead. None of them were able to have a clear thought, let alone be able to talk.  They just needed to feel each other. Cuddles turned to soft kisses, and soon those kisses got hungrier and more fervent. 

Aurora pulled at Melot's shirt and her hand brushed over the soft hair on his stomach. His abs tensed when Melot answered her touch with a deep groan. "Are you sure of what you're doing here?" he asked her. 

Aurora's hand traveled up to his chest. "Absolutely! I want to feel you, Melot."

Melot rolled them over the bed so that he was hovering over Aurora. 

"You have no idea what I want to do to you!" His lips found back onto hers and his hips pressed hard against her core. When he pushed himself back onto his arms he saw her panting heavily under him. "Show me!" she pleaded.

For the second time this night it was on Melot to be in control of the situation. He deeply hoped he wouldn't let her down this time. He took a deep breath, trying to hang on to his self-control. 

"No, I need you to show me what you want. Guide me. Tell me how you want me."

Aurora gasped. She laced her fingers in Melot’s long strands of hair and pulled him down to her. She sucked his lower lip into her mouth, bit down on it playfully what he answered with a hiss. Then her tongue darted out to roam his mouth. She didn't care for his fangs, actually she didn't care for anything in the world. She just needed to taste him, feel him.

Her hands drifted up his stomach once more. But she struggled with his shirt. It was too tight. Her hands retreated from his abs again, impatiently her fingers fumbled on his buttons until finally, she could brush his shirt from his shoulders. 

Melot never had to fight so hard in his life as right now. Which was impressive, considering how old he was and what situations he had to master in his past. But never ever had he felt such an urge to overcome the human part of him. The monster in him wanted control, wanted to possess the sweetest thing in the world, wanted to feel Aurora in every way possible.

Her scent filled his nose, he felt her pulse in every fiber of his body and her taste still lingered on his tongue. 

What was it that made him feel like this? He had never experienced anything like that.

Aurora had just an idea of what was happening, she still felt dizzy, in a very good way, though. And Melot moved way too fast. One second he was towering over her and the next moment she realized her dress was gone and he knelt between her legs. 

So much for him not taking the lead. Aurora chuckled. She couldn't be mad at him. It just showed how much he wanted this. As much as she wanted him.

"Slow down, Melot! I'm not going anywhere," she told him. She wanted to enjoy what was going to happen.

Melot stopped whatever he was doing at superhuman speed and carefully brushed his hand over her cheek.

"Damn, I'm sorry. I just can't keep calm with you in my arms."

Melot focused all what was left of his mind to get to his senses. He needed to stop this. Something was wrong. And he didn't want to start whatever this was with Aurora in a wrong way. 

"I don't know what is happening to me, Aurora. But I fear I can't hold back anymore. I don't want to scare you. I want to make this right. I promised you'd be safe with me and I can't make sure of that if I won't stop now"

Aurora blinked at him, she was confused. Everything was so overwhelming, just too much to comprehend. She was disappointed. No, that didn't match her feelings in the least. She was devastated as she realized it wouldn't happen. Melot didn't want to fuck her.

She didn't even notice, but tears started to run down her cheeks. And Melot jumped up from the bed and crossed the room as if he wanted to be as far away from her as possible.

Aurora tried to find the missing puzzle piece in her mind that led them from moaning into each other's mouths to staring confused at each other within seconds.

Melot took a bottle of water from a small table and slowly and carefully he approached the bed again and held the bottle out to Aurora.

"I am sorry! Please don't think that I don't want to do this. Hell, there's nothing in the world that I want to do more. But I can't. I can't, if I don't want to hurt you. I'm sorry, Aurora."

Aurora saw the pained expression in Melot's face and that's when she knew he wasn't lying. She took a sip of the water and tried to calm down.

She nodded. "It's okay, Melot! It's been a long night. Would you mind bringing me home?"

Melot had held Aurora in his arms for a couple of minutes. He pressed small kisses on her wet cheeks. But finally the storm in his head was over. He knew he had made the right decision.

He helped her get up from the bed, helped her get dressed and led her back to the club. 

It was early in the morning by now, the dance floor and booths weren't that crowded anymore as when they had left for Melot's room. He was searching for Maria, but apparently she had already left the club.

Melot never let go of Aurora's arm as they climbed the stairs to the entrance and got her coat. Melot's car was standing right in front of the club. He opened the door of his 1969 black Camaro and Aurora just slumped into the seat. She hadn't spoken a word since they had left his room.

The silence continued the whole ride until Melot stopped in front of Tara's house.

He helped her get out of the car and accompanied her to the door. He could kick himself for how much he had messed up tonight. He wanted to make her feel better. But he knew Aurora would need some time. So he just pressed a kiss on her forehead and squeezed a business card into her hand.

"Get some sleep. After that, please call me. We need to talk." He gave her another kiss, just a small peck brushing over her lips. Then his gaze fell on her wrist. The wounds his fangs had left were barely noticeable.  He hoped everything that happened tonight would fade as fast as this wound. He needed to find a way to make up for tonight's disaster. 

Aurora gave Melot a small smile before she turned.

The moment the door shut behind her, Aurora sank onto the floor. This was definitely the strangest, most wonderful and the most embarrassing day of her life.

The quiet moment only lasted for seconds. Aurora heard an angry voice shouting at her.

"You're a blood whore and a vampire slut. Get out of my house!"

Aurora opened her eyes to see how her sister took one of Aurora's boxes and threw it in her direction. It smashed to the ground with a loud bang. 

Aurora was just too tired to fight, so she stood up as if she were in a trance, took the box and left the house.

When she was standing in the front yard she blinked at the morning sun and had no idea what to do.

Part 5

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@raccoon-eyed-rebel @deandoesthingstome @mayloma @fvckinghenrycavill @ylva-syverson @ellethespaceunicorn @kebabgirl67 @dopegardensaladhuman @kingliam2019 @livisss @identity2212 @enchantedbytomandhenry @valacircareads @summersong69 @poledancingdinos @liveoncoffeeandflowersss

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#believe in me #melot #vampire!melot #modern vampire au #my writing #melot fanfiction

[biaswreckingfics]

Business or Pleasure? - Part 3

Pairing: Lee Sangyeon x Female Reader

Genre: CEO AU, Fake Dating AU, Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: None

Previous Chapter

It's two minutes before you're supposed to start work when you run through the lobby on the bottom floor. From the corner of your eye, you see Eric open his mouth to say something to you, but you speedwalk past him, shouting a hurried "morning" as you move along his desk. Realistically, you know you're not making it to the office on time. The elevator ride alone will probably be at least five minutes, but that doesn't slow you down. The only thing running through your mind is Mr. Lee telling you what he expects from you, and the main point was to not be freaking late.

You couldn't blame this on anyone but yourself. You knew the consequences of staying out late on a work night. Well, you didn't stay out late per se, but spending the entire night in Sunwoo's bed is basically the same thing.

Immediately clamping down on the memories of last night's activities before they can get too far, you maneuver into the elevator just as the door starts to close and jam your finger into the button labeled 75. You take a deep breath, knowing your fate is out of your hands, and look at the few people occupying the stainless-steel box with you.

None of them are familiar, and when you glance back at the buttons, you see they're going to lower-level floors. Of course, because all the rest of your coworkers aren't idiots. They know not to be late or cut it too close. Even Sunwoo probably got here before you because he didn't have to run all the way back home and get ready for the day.

The elevator creeps slowly up, and you smother the urge to scream. You should've taken those stupid stairs of death. You could walk faster than the pace of this elevator. Tapping your foot on the ground, you look at your watch to see that it's now 8:02. You're officially two minutes late and maybe two minutes past being fired...

Maybe Mr. lee isn't there yet! Maybe he's running late himself. He could've been stuck by a boat or train or... something. You clutch at the fleeting thoughts as the elevator approaches the top floor. Realistically, you know you're grasping at straws. Mr. Lee is probably standing next to your desk with his arms crossed over his chest.

The stern image of his face evaporates from your mind as the elevator stops at the top floor. The doors slowly open, and you take off out of the elevator, barely noticing the disappointed expression on Mrs. Park's face. Yes, you're late on your second day. You're probably just as bad as the rest of the assistants he has fired.

You can feel the eyes trailing you as you pass cubicle after cubicle, which only stands to make you feel worse. It's like your teacher or parent singling you out in front of a crowd. You feel small and want to disappear, but you've done it to yourself.

As you approach the back wall of the building, you spot your desk and nearly fall over in relief when you don't see your boss there waiting for you. Your eyes immediately slide over to his office, and you're pleasantly surprised to see the door and blinds closed. Either he isn't here yet - which is doubtful - or he hasn't realized you're late.

Quietly, you place your bag on your desk and take a seat. Turning on your computer, you log on and unpack your things, making it look like you've been here longer than you have. Once everything is set, you take a deep breath and slump in your seat. Thank god.

Once your computer is ready, you open your email and begin sorting through it. You make copies of what needs to be copied, reply to any inquiries, and check that Mr. Lee's schedule is up to date and ready for him. When that's all finished, you grab the notes you've made and stand up.

As you move to Mr. Lee's door, you take a few calming breaths and look over your outfit to make sure you don't look rumpled. Satisfied, you knock on his door and wait until he says, "Come in" to enter. The last thing you expect to see is a frazzled Mr. Lee leaning over his desk.

He doesn't even look up as you come in. His focus is on the papers scattered across his desk. You pause and take in the sight of his crooked tie, the messy hair he's clearly run his hand through a few times, and his jacket halfway falling off the chair behind him. 

How long has he been here? He almost looks like he never left, which can't be true because he left before you did. Unless he came back after?

"Mr. Lee?"

He hums but doesn't acknowledge you. After another moment, his eyes snap up, and recognition finally dawns on his face. He glances at the clock on his wall and then looks at his watch before he looks back up at you.

"I'm sorry. Good morning," he murmurs while his eyes fall back down to the papers on his desk. When he looks back at you again, he seems more with it. "Everything okay?"

It's so painfully obvious to you that he has already been here for hours and hasn't even realized the workday has started. Not wanting to worry him more, you flash him a smile. "Everything's fine. I just thought I'd go over your day with you."

His gaze takes on a faraway look, and he rubs his lips together in thought. When his eyes fall back down to the papers on his desk, you know something's bothering him.

"Actually," he looks back up at you. "I'm going to need you to clear my entire day. Reschedule everything I have to do and anything else that pops up, please."

"No problem," you trail off before working up the nerve to ask, "Is everything okay?"

He seems surprised that you've asked and even more surprised with himself when he answers. "One of the businesses we contract out to has been bought out by another company. All of their management and policies are being switched around, and they're no longer willing to do half of what we pay them for. Everything's a mess, and I have to find work around's..."

He trails off when he sees the blank look you're trying to keep off your face. His lips slightly twitch before he says, "I'm sorry for all of that. Everything will be fine once I figure this out."

"Okay," you quietly say before turning toward the door. "I'll get started on rescheduling your day."

You hear his mumbled thanks as you close the door, and you know he has already gone back to his paperwork. Dropping down into your seat, you begin to rearrange his schedule and field any calls that come into his office.

By lunch, there's been zero change. Mr. Lee is still locked in his office, and you've just about freed up his day, minus an email or two. Tapping your fingers on your desk, you glance back at his closed blinds. Throughout the morning, you've heard a grumbled curse here and there, but other than that, Mr. Lee has been locked up in there for hours. No visitors, no calls, no bathroom breaks. Nothing.

An idea pops into your mind, and while you tell yourself you're just being a good assistant, you're sure part of what you're about to do is thanks to guilt for being late. Standing up from your desk, you make your way through the half-empty office until you reach Mrs. Park's desk.

Her eyes leave the sandwich she's unwrapping and come up to yours. The unimpressed look she gives you only fuels your thought process.

"I see you got away with it."

Choosing to ignore her comment, you ask, "What does Mr. Lee like to eat?"

One of her brows raises. "Why?"

"Because he has been locked up in his office for hours, and I don't think he's even thinking about food." When she continues to stare at you, you add, "There's an issue with a contracting company, and he seems really worried about it."

Once you mention that, you see a motherly look of worry crossing her features. She debates for a moment, her mouth pursing to the side in thought before she answers.

"There's a burger place a few blocks down to the east that he sometimes goes to." At your directionally challenged expression, she sighs. "Go to the right when you leave the building and walk a few blocks. Get him something nice and greasy. Don't try to feed him that healthy crap when he's like this."

Nodding, you turn to the elevator until a question she asks stops you. "Why are you doing this?"

You turn back and meet her gaze. "Because I'm his assistant."

"And because you were late."

"And because I was late," you concede.

She smiles at your admission and shoos you away.

Bearing her words in mind, you ride the elevator down to the main floor. A few people are milling about, wasting away their lunch break before they have to go back to work. You spot Eric leaning over his desk, his head leaning lazily on his hand while he taps his other hand on the desk.

You approach him - intending to say hi - and he slowly faces you, sliding the customer service mask back on his face before he realizes it's you. He straightens up, and the knowing smirk that replaces the polite smile he put on has you apprehensive.

"You were late," he says in a sing-song voice. "How much trouble did you get in?"

"None," you airily say. "Mr. Lee was so busy, he didn't even notice."

Shock paints his features. "What the hell kind of good luck do you have?"

"I have no idea," you shrug, "but I'd like to keep it."

"Must've been all that woo-woo Sunwoo gave you last night." He smirks while his eyebrows wiggle on his forehead.

"Woo-woo?" You repeat in disbelief.

Eric nods. "Yeah, you know... When he was laying it down! When he was -"

"Okay!" You raise your hands up and wave them in front of your face. "Stop! Do not say whatever horrifyingly embarrassing thing you're going to say! I don't want to hear it."

Eric laughs. "What? You can do the deed, but you can't talk about it?"

"God. What are you? Five?" You back away from his desk before he can say anything else. "I'm going to get lunch and avoid the rest of this conversation."

"I'll be here when you get back!" He shouts at your retreating form, and you cringe, wondering if there's a back door to the building.

Finding the burger joint is shockingly easy. You follow Mrs. Park's directions, taking a right out of the building and walking a few blocks. Then, you follow a couple of suits who are, apparently, going there for lunch. You order one of the burgers that looks like it'll clog an artery and a side of fries for Mr. Lee, then get yourself something slightly less life-ending.

When you get back to the building, you hold your breath and prepare yourself for whatever nonsense Eric is going to spew. However, when you enter the lobby, you see his desk is blessedly empty, and you hurry on through to the elevators. The second trip up the elevator is much nicer than your first anxiety-filled one, and you're back on the floor in no time.

Mrs. Park eyes the greasy bag as you walk toward her and gives you a nod of approval as you breeze past. You have no idea why you want the elderly lady to like you. Maybe it's because she seems like she takes no shit, and you admire that.

Stalking through the still mostly empty office, you only come to a stop when you get to Mr. Lee's closed door. You take a moment to collect yourself, not wanting to appear over eager, before knocking on it. Mr. Lee's tired voice comes through the door telling you to come in, and you quickly open the door.

He doesn't look up at you as you enter, and you're not sure he's going to until the smell hits him. He pauses, trying to comprehend the new scent, and then finally looks up at you. His eyes immediately fall to the bag, and you hold it up for inspection.

"I know you said not to worry about your lunches, but considering how long you've been here already, I think a well-deserved food break is in order."

Mr. Lee mulls over your words, eyes never leaving the bag for such a long time that it becomes awkward. Then, after what feels like an eternity, his eyes find yours.

"Thank you, but I don't eat unhealthy food like that."

"Liar."

The word falls out of your mouth, surprising both of you. Your eyes widen at the horrifying thought that you just called your boss a liar, but he doesn't look mad. He looks... amused. He finds it funny that you have the guts to say something like that.

"I'm so sorry," you immediately backtrack. "It's just... I asked Mrs. Park what you'd like, and she strictly told me to get you something greasy."

At that, his eyebrows raise, and he looks at you in a new light. "You asked Mrs. Park what I'd like for lunch?"

"Yes?" You question as you try to decide if you're falling into some sort of trap here.

He stares at you for a moment, and you wonder if he always chooses his words carefully or if this is just how he is at work. His eyes bounce between yours before he nods.

"Well, alright. I shouldn't prove anyone a liar." He pauses, and you swear to god, you see a smile creep onto his face for a moment before he says, "Including myself."

He begins clearing off a spot on his desk, piling up papers to the side, and you approach his desk. "Again, I'm sorry for calling you that."

Mr. Lee waves his hand away, surprising you. "Don't worry about it... Though, I will say, it's the first time an employee has called me something to my face."

You wait until he places some napkins on his desk to hand him his burger, but his words catch you off guard, and you look up at him with wide eyes. "You know what they say about you?"

He lets out a short laugh. "Don't most employees have something bad to say about their bosses?"

"I can't say I've had a superior be referred to as a "mob boss" before, but sure."

His hand pauses midway to the burger you're holding, and he looks up at you in surprise. You push the burger into his hand as he considers the nickname, and then he raises his eyebrows. "I guess that is a new one."

A part of you cringes internally when you realize he hadn't been aware of that nickname, but he doesn't seem too focused on it. Instead, his eyes are glued to the burger he's unwrapping. He slowly drops into his seat as he eyes the greasy wrapping.

"I know this will kill me, but it's so good, I don't care."

Pulling out the fries, you place them and his drink on the desk. "I also got you fries and water because ya know... balance."

He looks at the two new items, and a laugh is ripped out of him. It stuns you because you haven't seen much in ways of merriment when it comes to Mr. Lee, and here he is with a full-blown laugh. You search his face and the smile that still rests on it, feeling a swirl in your stomach.

He looks so different when he smiles. So relaxed and light-hearted. Nothing like the controlled appearance he tends to show at work. This Mr. Lee is someone you want to know.

And like a splash of cold water, reality comes back. He's your boss. Get a grip.

Flashing him a smile, you excuse yourself to go eat your lunch at your desk. He doesn't stop you, which you're grateful for. You need a moment to reflect on the little victory you were just awarded.

The entire time you eat your meal, your mind goes back to his laugh. It both annoys and worries you. Deciding a distraction is needed, you open the internet browser on your monitor and begin to look for something - anything - to get your mind off of your boss.

Once lunch passes, you can't help but think about how Mr. Lee probably went straight back to work, and you wonder if he's made any progress - or if there's something you can do to help...

Before you even realize you've made a decision, you're up from your seat and knocking on his door once again. He gives you the okay to enter, and you quickly open the door and close it behind you before you lose your nerve. Mr. Lee looks up at you curiously. 

You pause and take a breath before you finally just ask, "Can I help you at all?"

He looks stunned by your question before a polite smile takes over. "This isn't a secretarial issue... Do you know a lot about technology and business?"

"Not in the slightest," you answer honestly, "but maybe a fresh set of eyes or you talking it through with someone will help you see something new?"

He considers it for a moment, looking at the paperwork that surrounds him before glancing back up at you. "Okay. That'd be great."

Moving to a chair across from his desk, you glance at the scattered papers and hope you haven't gotten in over your head. Mr. Lee must sense your hesitancy because you hear him say, "Don't worry. It's way less complicated than it looks."

You send him a grateful smile. "Let's hope for both of our sakes you're right."

For the next few hours, Mr. Lee - or Sangyeon as he tells you to call him - walks you through everything he's working on. He explains it all with such easy clarity that you actually feel like you understand what he's trying to do. You're certainly no expert, but you've definitely upped yourself a few levels.

One thing that you've noticed is how passionate he is about his work. When he really gets going about the company and its inner workings, he lights up like a kid at Christmas. It's not something you were ever expecting to see, and you have a feeling he doesn't share that side of himself often.

"Have you always wanted to do this?" You ask when you both decide it's time to take a break.

"Yes and no... I've always loved developing software and messing around with codes. It was something I was good at and something I understood." He leans his head back against the chair and gazes up at the ceiling. "I knew I could make a good life for myself in this field. I could give back to my parents and help my sister with my nephews... but it wasn't my dream."

"What was your dream?"

He lets out a soft laugh and shakes his head. "I think I'll keep that to myself."

There's no way your interest could've possibly been piqued higher. "Well, now you have to tell me."

His head lifts up from the chair, and he raises a brow. "Is that how it works?"

"Yep." You adjust in your seat to get comfortable and look at him expectantly. The amusement on his face triples.

"Was it your dream to be a personal assistant?" He counters.

"Merely a means to an end." You wave your hand in the air almost like you can wipe away his distraction attempt. "Do you not want to tell me because it's embarrassing and absurd?"

His lip twitches in response. "I'm almost afraid of the picture you're painting in your head."

"You definitely should be," you nod.

Sangyeon shakes his head, a small smile resting on his face. His eyes search yours for a moment, and you can see the instant he decides to tell you.

"I actually wanted to compose music," he says quietly.

Your entire body freezes at his response. For some reason, music wasn't even in the realm of possibilities that flitted across your mind. "Music?"

He nods. "I've always liked singing and creating arrangements... and from the very few people who've heard me sing... It sounds like I'm not that bad." His eyes cut to yours, almost like he knows what you're going to ask before you do. "No, I will not sing for you."

"Oh, come on," you whine. "I want to hear."

"Absolutely not." He sits up in his seat, and you can tell he's about to dive back into his work.

Without thinking, you throw your hands out and cover his papers so he can't see them. He looks up at you in surprise, and you immediately defend yourself. 

"At least tell me why you ended up doing this instead."

He purses his lips and stares at you. "Because there's too much chance in the music industry, and it's hard to break into. Technology, on the other hand, continuously creates jobs and is a growing field."

When you stay quiet, he tilts his head to the side. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Clearly, you have something you want to say."

"Nope," you respond, letting the "p" pop.

He starts picking up some of the papers in front of him. "Well, I find that rather hard to believe."

Your mouth opens in mock outrage. "Excuse me?"

"I have a feeling that you're not one to hold back on how you feel." He shrugs. "That's all."

"While that's accurate, I kind of resent that you know that about me already. " An entertained expression grows on his face, and you sigh. "All I was going to say is that's a safe answer, which makes me think you don't take risks. You always want a controlled outcome."

When he stays silent, you wonder if you've managed to finally offend him, but he slowly nods. "I suppose you're right."

A triumphant smile grows on your face. "I guess you're not the only one here that can read people pretty well."

"Oh?" He arched a brow. "Have I met my match?"

His words cause your heart to do an unnecessary flip. "I guess only time will tell which one of us comes out on top."

The words suddenly sound dirty in your ears, and you meet Sangyeon's surveying stare with a horrified expression. Wow, you really need to learn to think before you speak!

"Superior! We'll see who is superior. At reading people. Which one of us is better. At it."

You cringe so hard that your face scrunches up and you turn your head to look away from Sangyeon. God. How embarrassing! The words probably sounded perfectly normal to him, and now he knows that your mind was in the gutter. This man is your boss! You're not supposed to think dirty things about him. You didn't even realize that you were thinking dirty things about him!

A low chuckle reaches your ears, and you slowly turn your head to find Sangyeon watching you. There's a glint of light in his eyes that almost seems mischievous, and that's only confirmed when you hear him respond, "I guess we will."

Tagging: @jungkooksworld18 @sungbeam @jenowithjaem @ilovechanhee @maybeifyoutrieddd @winterbeartaehyungbestboy

#business or pleasure #kvanity #deobiwritersnet #sangyeon x reader #sangyeon x you #sangyeon series #sangyeon angst #sangyeon au #sangyeon scenarios #sangyeon fluff #sangyeon fic #sangyeon fanfic #lee sangyeon au #lee sangyeon angst #lee sangyeon series #lee sangyeon scenarios #lee sangyeon fics #lee sangyeon fluff #the boyz au #the boyz fic #the boyz fanfic #the boyz ff #the boyz fluff #the boyz angst #the boyz scenarios #the boyz series #office au #ceo au #fake dating

[faegoddessog]

  Fantasy Come True  Ch 7/8

  Chapter 7: Confessions 

Chapter Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, angst, Unprotected PiV (play safe ya'll), cunnilingus, fellatio, overstimulation, light restraint, fingering, light ass teasing (F. receiving), wee bit of delicious mind fuckery

Series Summary: Breaking into the acting world has been a life long dream. It's been tough, plus your relationship with you partner has some struggles, but who doesn't have struggles. A new guy shows up to your improv classes who seems strangely familiar. He seems rather interested in you and you feel unusually comfortable around him, like he projects calm and reassurance. Once you realize who he really is, and what he really likes... it's game on. 

SERIES WARNING: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only,  here there be lemons.

A/N: This little gem is per request for the lovely and talented @purejasmine . It's been a collaborative project designed to meet her every Austin need as best I can. Here's to you darling! <clink> I hope ya'll enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed the creative process with parameters not wholly my own!!

Here is the Masterlist of this series.

  Chapter 7: Confessions 

You did, in fact, make it to his bed before morning was over, however you didn't make it out until much, much later.  Lying in the aftermath of being fucked mercilessly into the mattress, he asks about the scenes you are going to tape. You two spend a little time working on your scenes naked in bed. You have one dramatic  and one comedic. You run through lines and talk about character motivations. His insights and process are invaluable to you. Some analogies he makes are a little out there or just not familiar to you, but you take it all in. 

“What if,” he says, talking about your character's motivations, “she just wants to do whatever she is told because it’s THAT important to her. It’s not that she is powerless, but that she will do whatever she has to, even if it means giving over her power. But in doing that, she is freed to get what she wants. Y’know?” 

“No, I don’t get that, giving up the thing that she wants is how she gets it?” you say. 

“It's like dominant/submissive play, but without the sex, do you see?” he asks.

“Not really, I don’t think there is an undertone of sex in the scene,” you counter.

“No it’s not really about sex per se, but… it’s just an idea of how to look at the scene. How do you see it?” he asks, letting the Dom/Sub thing go. 

After, you entice him into the shower, kissing and washing each other. You are mostly just enjoying the closeness,  the touch of his hands on your skin and the feeling of being  pampered. 

“I’m in the mood for a movie, should we have some snacks and watch something?” Austin says as you are toweling off. 

“Sure, I’m down!” you say excited. You love to watch movies. 

Austin tells you to go pick something out as he puts together a plate of apples, cheeses and prosciutto.  You decide to watch Kingsman: The Secret Service, it’ll be silly and fun. He brings over two sparkling waters, the plate, and a paring knife.

You snuggle up on the couch with his back between your bare legs. You had never bothered putting your clothes back on, just a bra and panty set that you were super excited about finding, as they fit you perfectly, even if they were pricey. You are leaning up against the back of the couch. Austin, in solidarity with your penchant to wander the house in your underclothes, is also clad only in boxers. His long legs stretch onto the oversized ottoman. The plate is on his lap and Austin cuts pieces of apple and cheese, holding them and prosciutto up for you to nibble on. His warm body against your chest is heaven, the clean smell of him all encompassing. 

You have never felt so content, and yet a deep longing bubbles up from within.  THIS should be your everyday life. Comfortable sized home, man that adores you and loves to pleasure you, delicious food, the craft of acting and storytelling intertwined in everyday life. You let out a big sigh pushing away melancholy  thoughts of your supposed ‘ real life’.  Your fingers tangle gently with his hair, massaging his scalp, anchoring you to the here and now and the magic of having Austin’s skin on yours. 

“Mmm, I think I’m hungry,” he growls sexily out of the blue. 

“Hungry?” you glance at the now empty plate as he sets it aside,”What can I get from the kitchen for you babe, I’ll feed you  this time,” you offer. 

“That’s not what I’m hungry for, my amazing Princess,” he twists his head around to look up at you with a naughty smile, “but I'll take you up on feeding me.” 

He flips over onto his stomach. 

“Oh, should I pause?” you ask, picking up the remote.

“Oh no,” he pushes the ottoman away with his feet, “ you keep watching Angel.” He sinks down to his knees on the plush carpet. “I just need this irresistible pussy in my mouth,” he threads his arms under your thighs and yanks your ass to the edge of the couch,” right now.” His face is a picture of nearly animistic lust. 

Your eyes get big as he grabs the paring knife and swiftly inserts the blade on the fabric at  your hip. 

“Like, right now,” he pulls up, slicing through the fabric.

He answers the look of scandalous shock on your face with a gruff,  “I’ll replace them ten times over Princess,  I just can’t wait any longer to taste you.”  He does the same to the other side, his chest expanding with his needy breath, the fabric laying open to reveal your groomed vulva.

His urgency stokes a fire in your belly, your potential outrage at his destroying your underclothes sizzling into inflamed desire. You hadn’t been super wet before, when you were just cuddling, no more than your usual when you are with Austin. But when he grabbed and pulled you toward him, the buzzing down below commenced. When he cut your favorite panties from your body, you practically gushed. 

He nuzzles right into your mons, inhaling your scent, smiling. His tongue takes a big, long lingering taste of your lips. 

“Mmmggghhh, yes” he moans against you, eyes closed, “your juices are like heaven.” 

His head moves up and down as he laps at your labia, dipping in for growling tastes as his hands grip at your thighs, almost like a cat digging in its claws.  His tongue tantalizes as it draws teasing circles around your clit. His fingers pull you apart, revealing your sweet inner lips to his hungry tongue. 

Just the pressure of his fingers on your lips pulls a soft whining moan of anticipation from your throat.  You have one hand curled, fingers between your teeth. The other hand mutes the movie  letting it play on unheeded, before twirling his locks around your fingers. 

He lifts his eyes to yours.

“I want to make you cum in my mouth, Angel, but I’m going to take my time,” he says. A one sided, open-mouthed smile blooms on his wet lips and he winks. 

Something about his wink makes your breath melt away from you in a soft-voiced ‘unghgh’.  Your brows furrow together and all you can do is nod in agreement as his ocean eyes glimmer at you from under his long lashes. Your fingers tighten inadvertently in his hair. You feel as much as hear the little chuckle of amusement he gives against your pussy as his lips meet yours. 

Long and lightly he drags his tongue up then sucks at your clit just as lightly. It’s so soft as to be almost a tickle, but one that leaves you desperate for more. Luckily, he is here for the eating of your pussy, and willing to give you as much as you want.  

He continues his long, slow licks ending in suction on your clit until the sounds you are making and your hand fisting in his hair are clear indications that you need more.

He pushes his long finger inside you. He moans at how wet you are, how hot, how tight. 

He slides his coiling finger out and in, licking your clit lightly. 

You are sure there will be teeth marks left on your bottom lip when he closes around your clit, sucking you into the vacuum of his mouth. 

He falls into a slow rhythmic pace of licking and sucking and shifting his finger in and out with a delicious little curve of his fingertip. All the while, his soft vocalizations of pleasure drift up to your ears.  The wet smacking sounds of his suction off your clit drives you wild. He is unhurried, like he could do this for the rest of time. 

You try to inhale a big breath, but it catches up in short,  little pants. Tingling tightness loops inside you with every drag of his tongue, every immersion of his digit, every wet and sloppy sound as he sucks at your nub. 

Slowly you climb that ramp like a click-clack of a roller coaster, every moment bringing you closer to that plummet into ecstasy. Then you are there, on the cusp. Falling, falling, falling, and  he keeps his measured pace of feasting at your cunt. Your body goes tight, eyelids fluttering, vagina clamping onto his finger. Little grunts shake your body. 

Spurred on by your climax,  he pulls his finger out and buries his face in you, fingertips wrapping under and digging into your thighs. His mouth sucks greedily at your entrance, not wanting to waste a drop. 

His hips are pumping against nothing, his deep moans vibrating against you, heightening your orgasm. He looks up with dark eyes, face messy. You watch as his wet finger disappears into his mouth and he sucks all your juices off it. 

“Do you want my cum, Princess,” he says low, looking for all the world like a feral predator. 

“Yes, ple-,” is all you get out before he stands up, pulling you with him. His mouth closes over yours in a hard, salty kiss, you don’t even notice that he has turned you around in the process. 

“Far be it from me to deny my Princess what she wants.” He says against your lips. His rock hardness is pressed against your belly, you don’t remember him taking his blue boxers off. Still a little dazzled from your orgasm, you reach out to stroke him, but he grabs your wrist. 

“Now, now,  if you want it, you’ll do as I say,” his demeanor suddenly changes entirely. He seems taller and more commanding.  Your eyes narrow for a second, wondering what he’s playing at, then you recognize the line from the scene you had been working on. 

“And if I don’t?” you ask in quiet defiance, pulling out your character and the next line.

“Oh”, his look has a tinge of evil in it, ”I assure you, you’d prefer to follow my directions, Pet,” he adds the nickname to the line. 

“Now,” he lets go of you and leans back away from you, “turn around.” 

His voice and the serious look in his eye, make you lose your breath just a bit. You turn your back towards him, pressing your thighs together, still sensitive from his oral ministrations.

“Bend over,” his words are neatly whispered in your ear, “all fours.” He isn’t pulling lines from the scene now, just commanding you. Clearly he is thinking about his earlier point. 

You hear him sit down on the couch, or would if you hadn’t been gulping so hard. Why did just his tone make you clench?

“Open up further, I want to see,” you hear from behind you.

You step your knees apart.

“Wider,” you feel a finger tip brush your inner thigh, it’s like electricity zig-zagging  to your core. 

“Push those gorgeous hips back.”

You do, in sort of a puppy pose with your back arched. You feel so deliciously exposed to him. 

“Oh, that IS a pretty pussy,” he says almost to himself, then louder, “open it up for me.”

Balancing on your left arm, you reach between your legs and use your fore and middle fingers to spread apart your labia. His spit is beginning to dry on your outer lips. However, the glistening of your inner lips betrays to him how much you are turned on by being told what to do. 

‘Now, “ a little rasp of desire sneaks into his voice, “finger yourself.”

Suddenly, you feel unexpectedly hesitant, like this is pushing you out of your comfort zone for some unfathomable reason. You are fine touching yourself, even fine doing it in front of him, but there is something about being so vulnerable bent over and exposed. You are stopped in your tracks, trying to figure out why you feel this way out of the blue.

“Do you still want my cum?” you can almost hear his eyes narrowing in his voice. 

“Oh lord yes, Austin,” your tone boarding on begging. Just his name out of your mouth is scintillating. His words snap you out of your hesitation. 

You feel his thumbs hold you open, his finger splayed out over your ass and hips bones. 

“Then finger yourself,” he insists. 

You move your middle finger to slide slowly through your wetness. 

“Yes,” he breathes, “just like that. God that is beautiful.”

After a couple minutes, he leans his body over your back, his breath hot on your neck.

“Do you trust me, Pet? “ his hips tuck forward. His hard dick nudges almost lazily against your crotch.

“Yes,” your voice wavers slightly. You stop your finger movement.

“Are you sure?” you can hear his sexy smirk. You twist to look over your right shoulder at him, and are met with a mischievous glint in his eyes. The little dimple that appears over the left corner of his mouth evaporates any equivocation. 

“One hundred percent, Austin,” you give in totally. 

“That’s my good girl, my sweet Pet,” he croons sweetly in your ear. “Keep fingering yourself,” his tone back to demanding as he moves back to watch you. 

As you slide inside yourself again, rubbing over your clit.   You smile at his words, at being his good girl. 

He is petting the back of your opening, pulling at your wet, pink inner lips. You feel his finger sink in next to yours. He moves in opposition to you, when you go in he pulls out, and vice versa. Fuck, the extra friction is so good. 

Then he pulls out and up and  you feel his wet finger drag unexpectedly over your asshole. It makes you jump forward.

“Tch, I thought you trusted me,” he admonishes, grabbing your hand.

“I do, Yes, I do” you pant, “ I just…oh!” you feel his tip nudge again against your wet pussy. He gives you no time to finish your sentence. 

“Good,” is all he says as he slowly pushes in. “Ohhhh,” he lets out his breath in a long low groan. Your hand lingers, playing with his balls as he sheathes himself fully. 

His wet thumb returns to your asshole, just placed there no rubbing, no teasing.  You are still a little nervous about what he might do, you aren’t really into things in your butt. But you DO trust him, you remind yourself.  

At this angle his cock feels long, prodding your cervix, making you groan. 

“Do you want it, beautiful Angel?” his deep reverberations are almost hypnotic, “do you want my cum inside you?”

All you want is for him to fuck you into next week, but he just stays still, dick in you deep, thumb on your ass. 

‘I do, yes, give it to me baby, please,” affirming in all the ways you can think of in your Austin-addled state. 

“Give?” he questions with an incredulous smile, “ Oh no, you have to come get it, my sexy little cum slut.” The fingertips on his free hand push you slightly forward, then wrap around the front of your hip bone guiding you back. Once you get the gist he takes his hand away. 

 You can’t help but move on him. 

“That’s it, pretty Princess,” his voice is hot caramel pouring over you,”fuck it out of me.” 

Your breath leaves you with an ‘oh fuck’ as his words incite a sexual riot in you. 

On all fours, you rock back and forth in front of him, along his length. As you rock on his cock, you rub your asshole against his thumb. It’s unexpectedly good. So good, you let go being jumpy about your ass. Your body wants what it wants.

“Oh look at you,” his sexy voice rolling over you, “so greedy for my cock, so starved for my cum, and it's only been a couple hours.” His breath huffs from him in rising passion, ”grinding your ass against my thumb, all hot and wanting. Fuck you are mesmerizing, Princess.” 

He starts to lose his own control, unable to stop thrusting into you. “You make me so… fucking… hard. I just want you all the damn time.”

You are moving in synchronicity, his cock in you and you back on his cock.  His thumb is giving you that glorious friction, your fingers on your clit; it’s a whirlwind. A veritable tornado of friction, desire, perfect mind-fuckery and magic; Austin Butler magic. 

Your pussy clenches hard around him. 

“Oh fuck, that’s good,” he groans.

You hear yourself moaning loud Uhhghh’s and Ohhhh’s as you undulate in front of him. You jerk forward involuntarily as your orgasm hits you hard. 

 Austin’s hands clamp down on your hips, riding you down. There is no way he isn’t filling you with his cum now, no matter how long it takes.

 Groaning into the upholstery of the ottoman, you continue to be pounded from behind. He simultaneously holds you down and spreads your cheeks with his hands. Fucking hell, at this angle he is triggering all your buttons and you keep cumming. It’s so good. 

He sounds feral behind you.  The moans hissing out through his teeth become deep chested growls that become open voweled groans as he fucks you harder and harder. Sweat drips onto your back. 

You are losing your mind. Your fingers, trapped under you,  are twitching against your clit, you want to stop them, but just can’t quite get them to still. 

Finally he pushes in deep, muscles straining. All sound frozen in his lungs, until his deep growls and groans of satisfaction make their exodus from him to wash over you. His hips jerk pushing him just that much deeper as he empties into you. 

“I guess,” he pants just behind your ear, “I gave it to you after all.” 

“I love it,” you just barely stop yourself from saying ‘I love you’. 

Still in you, Austin rolls onto his side, clinging to you like you are the only refuge in his personal storm. You curl up in the cradle of his arms. Taron Egerton is cleverly, yet silently, kicking ass on the TV, although you are both too blissed out to give it any mind.  

When you wake up from dozing some time later. When had you fallen asleep? You find that you have rolled over in Austin’s arms to face him. He is petting your hair and holding you to him. He has a weird look on his face, like conflicting thoughts are running through his mind. Once he sees your eyes on him, he smiles big.

“Good nap?”

“Oh lord yes,” you stretch and sit up. “I’ll be right back,” you stand up, but Austin grabs your arm. 

“I mean it,” he blurts out. The words clearly by passing his conflicting thoughts and going straight to his mouth. 

“What do you mean, Austin,” your brow furrows slightly. Your hand automatically cradles his face. 

 “I meant what I said, when we were…” his eyebrows lift, conveying his meaning for him, “I want you all the time, I want you here, to stay here,  to be with me always.” 

“What?” you are dumbstruck by this sudden confession.

“Move in with me, be mine,” his hand covering yours on his face.

Your heart jumps in your chest. It’s like every dream you’ve ever had is being plopped into your lap. You blink once, twice, unsure what to say or do next. Then your bladder reminds you why you got up in the first place. 

“I need,” you gesture towards the bathroom,”be right back.” 

Sitting in his beautiful little powder room, you attempt to absorb this new information. You had literally been thinking about wanting this life. The fires of hope that spring in your heart are quickly doused by your practical mind.

 ‘Is this stable? Is it smart to leave all else behind and move in here?’ it asks. Fucking fuckity fuck. You look at yourself in the mirror.

“God dammit,” you whisper to yourself, knowing you can’t ignore her, as much as you want to.  As much as you hate it, you rely on your partner financially right now and that is, if not a satisfying life, a safe one.  Your sense of self preservation insists that you make sure this isn’t some two month infatuation that will leave you in the cold. 

As you walk back into the living room in nothing but your bra, Austin is sitting naked on the couch with his head in his hands.  The TV is off. 

You sit down in front of him on the ottoman. 

“Did I just ruin everything?” he asks, still looking at the floor. 

“Huh?” you ask, not expecting him to sound so emotional.

“I asked you to move in and you walked away,” he says looking up at you, the shadows of abandonment flitting across his face, fearful tears shining in his eyes. 

“Oh Austin, darling,” you take his face in your hands, “I just needed to pee and clean up and think for a second. You didn’t ruin anything.” You kiss him tenderly on the forehead. 

He blows out a big breath, trying to regain his composure. 

“Before you say anything, no matter your answer,  I need to tell you something, ok?” he states.  You nod.

“Remember when I told you before I was falling for you? Well, that was sort of a lie,” he admits.

Your heart falls into your stomach without warning. What the hell is going on? He wants you to stay, but as what? Just his convenient tight pussy? Someone whom he can control by ‘taking care’ of them. Would this just be out of the frying pan and into the fire? Heat rises up your tightening chest. ‘I will NOT cry when he tells me it’s a fling,’ you tell yourself resolutely. You are usually so positive, but the idea of Austin lying to you about falling for you is like a punch in the gut. You brace yourself with a big breath.

“It’s a lie because I’m already so far gone for you. I am so in love with you, my Princess,” his eyes are pleading that you’ll hear his  truth, “I know it’s not been that long, but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life, like I’ve just been waiting for you this whole time.” 

His words stop your internal destructive narrative in its tracks. That was NOT what you expected him to say. The look in his eyes is like a release valve for your breath. In a flash you realize you almost fell into your own trap, the one you’ve been cycling in for over a decade. 

“Oh” is all you can get out. Your mouth is trying to say words, but you are caught, in his eyes, in his hands, in his heart. You finally recover a little from your shock. 

“I love you, Austin,” the words simply slipping past anything else you thought of saying, “I’ve wanted to tell you so many times.  I love you, Austin, oh god how much,” your words tumbling out before you can stop them. 

Relief floods his face, he pulls you in. His kiss is intense. You had no idea what he had been holding back, until suddenly, he is holding nothing back. It’s like a wave of adoration and affection washes over you as he kisses you and holds you in his arms. It’s so hard to describe, like light flooding into your cells. 

He breaks the kiss and crushes you to him. 

“So you’ll stay?” he says eagerly. 

“Babe, I don’t know.” you are on the verge of tears from the yo-yo of emotions.

“What?” he responds almost incredulously before he takes a second to gather himself back in again, terrified his tender heart will get trudged upon. “Ok, what don’t you know,” he says much more calmly. 

“Do you know why I have stayed with him?” you say matter-of-factly,” Security. No, he isn’t a great lover or even a good partner, and sometimes he is an outright asshole. But I know he won’t leave me in the cold as I try my hand at this acting thing.” You ignore the counterpoint of you leaving him, but at least he won’t be in the cold, he’ll just be getting the partner he deserves. Which isn’t you. Austin is the one who deserves all your love and devotion, your thoughtfulness and caring. FUCK, how can you you say no to him, but how can you simply say yes?  How can you make this right in your head! 

“I would never leave you in the cold Princess, I am offering you security as well as everything he isn’t giving you and more.  Please,” he pleads. Even begging with unshed tears in his eyes, he is so utterly beautiful. 

“Oh god, this is hard,” you mutter to yourself, looking up at the ceiling, trying to control how topsy-turvy your emotional world just got. 

“I know, I know Austin. Please hear me when I say that there is literally no one else on this planet that I would leave for, only you. It’s always and ever only been you. It’s… “ you grab his hands, ‘no… you are everything that I want and so much more.” 

Tears spring to your eyes, knowing what you have to say next. 

“I’m sorry I can’t give you the answer you want, the one I want, not yet anyway. And I do want to, my darling, I do. I want to scream yes and go back there, gather my stuff and just walk out. The idea of this being my home, of YOU being my home? It’s intoxicating and almost scary in how perfect a dream it is.  But my practical side just won’t let me. Austin, you have to understand, I have to be sure.  I have to know that this is forever, that this,” you gesture back and forth between you, ”can provide me some stability before I drop that safety net. Once I leave him, I can’t go back and I have nowhere else I can go.” 

Miraculously, Austin is nodding, “Ok, I - I hear what you are saying. I can understand that point of view. It’s a big thing to ask of you.” He ponders in silence for a moment, gears turning in his head. “If I can prove to you, beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am committed to this, that your security and stability matters as much to me as it does to you, will you?”

“I would do it in a heartbeat, I want nothing more in the world, than to be yours mind, body and soul, Austin” you say, sniffling. Geeze, usually you aren’t this emotional.

“Okay, ’he nods again, “okay love, that gives me some hope to go on, something I can work towards.”

 “Something we can work towards,” you correct him. “I love giving you control over me during sex, this,” you push his hand between your legs, ”truly is your pussy, my mouth,” you kiss him, “is only for you now. But, if we are really going to go down the relationship road, I don’t want it to be based on ‘ownership’ like that. I want a partnership, where we can be of equal, if different, support for one another. I want to take care of you as much as you take care of me, y’know what I mean?”

Austin is nodding at you, his hand still pressed to your crotch. 

“I love that and I love you, my Princess,” he pulls you into his lap, wiping an escaped tear from your cheek. “It feels so good to actually tell you. I was holding it in, not wanting to scare you away.” His arm closes around you, cradling your head against his naked shoulder. 

“Austin,  how could your love ever scare me away,” you snuggle in close. 

You press his hand back between your legs, suddenly craving him, craving the comfort of sexual contact, of what you DO know, what you ARE sure of:  that his body was made for you, and yours for his. 

“Please,” you whisper in his ear, “I just want you inside me.” 

He turns towards you, brushing his cheek against your lips. “Are you sure baby?” 

“Austin Butler just told me that he loved me, yes I am sure,” you smile at him, biting your lip. 

He brings his fingers to his mouth, capturing your eyes with his. His wet fingers stroke your labia.

“I DO love you,” he presses in lightly, finding your own wetness already gathering there. 

His fingers stroke you, playing around your clit. 

“And I want you,” he pushes his finger inside of you, ”to be mine...” You moan low as his thumb lazily arcs, tracing the archway of your clit. 

…forever,” he whispers in your ear. 

You melt, you pool, you ooze. You are, in this moment, almost willing to say ‘fuck security’ and never leave. Almost. 

When you cum in his lap and on his fingers, it’s to his whispered voice in your ear repeating over and over, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” 

You straddle his leg to face him on the couch, gathering his face in your hands. 

“I love you Austin Butler, I love you, I’ve always loved you,” now that you have no qualms saying it outloud, you can’t seem to say it enough. 

Arms around his neck you press your lips to his, and your pussy to his leg. He flexes his muscular thigh, which pushes right up into your wet folds. You groan slightly into his mouth. His hands are on your hips pulling you towards him, then pushing you away. Your wet pussy laying down strings of slick on his skin.

It’s like some door inside you unlatched and you are suddenly horny as hell.  His sexy gaze on you and his tongue unconsciously wetting his gorgeous full bottom lip before capturing it in his teeth. His hands guiding you on him. You get so close to cumming as you ride him. You finally climb off him, panting, heart racing, unsure of what you need next to get you there.  The look you give him is so sexy and utterly debauched.

“Oh hunny,” he rumbles, “C’mon.”

He stands and pulls you into a deep kiss, takes you by the hand, walks backward to the stairs. He guides you up the first step. Now, even with his height, he kisses you again. He begins forcing you, with intense kisses, to take steps backwards up the stairs. His hands are on your breasts and your ass;  grasping, rolling, kneading. Your hands are all over him, outlining muscles, fingertips in the light hairs on his chest, rubbing his nipples with the pads of your thumbs.��

Suddenly you sit hard on the bed, you hadn’t even realized you were in the bedroom. 

“Back up and spread those legs, my Princess,” his breath is shaky trying to control his desire for you. “You are fucking incredible and enchanting,” he crawls up your body,  until he is croutching above you like a predator over its kill. “I just can't ever get enough of you, my Angel. You drive me crazy in the best ways possible.”

If you were wearing panties, they’d be ruined. After this, the bedspread may need to be replaced. 

“And in case you are wondering,” his eyes and voice so full of desire, “I’m going to bring that pussy, my pussy, to so many orgasms tonight you won’t be able to walk right tomorrow,” he kisses you hard, pushing himself inside you.

He spends the entire evening and into the night making good on this promise as though it were the first step in proving just how serious he is about keeping you. You cum on his cock as he steadily thrusts into you. He cuddles you sweetly, kissing your forehead, letting your heart rate calm down. Until his hand finds its way to your crotch. You cum on his fingers as he stares deep into your eyes. He holds you tight, nibbling at your neck, kissing your sternum as it rises and falls.  He pulls your nipples into his mouth, sucking them one, then the other. He showers your belly with kisses, growling just a little as he does. Now he is settling between your knees, his tongue dipping greedily into your wet snatch. You cum on his tongue as he laps you into oblivion. 

You beg for his cock in your mouth. You suck his tip as he strokes his own shaft. You hold his base in your left hand while your right, seemingly of its own accord, plays with yourself.  It’s like you just can’t stop. As his hot milky seed spurts onto your tongue, you twitch and swallow, jerk and swallow, cum and swallow. Moaning deep as you lick up every fucking drop of his cum like it’s the nectar of the gods. 

After every orgasm, your body searches for more, you just can’t get satiated. And each time, he waits until you come down from your peak before ramping you up again. 

Late that night, you are floating in a surreal cloud of oxytocin and dopamine, time meaning nothing. Austin has you bent over the bed, your wrists are in the small of your back. His long fingered hand is wrapped around them, using them as an anchor point as he slams into you. You had begged him to go hard and deep into you and never stop.  Maybe, if he fucks you hard enough you might be done. You are moaning on the end of his dick. 

“No, I need…” you moan as you twist one hand out from his grasp. 

“What do you need, my Princess,” he pants out. 

“Over,” you twist your spine, flipping on to your back, legs wide. 

He plunges right back into you. You moan. There’s no reprieve for the wickedly horny. His hands are wrapped around the tops of your thighs, thumbs digging in. 

You hold up two fingers, his tongue licks up the pads then over, sucking your fingers and swirling his tongue. You withdraw your wet digits and press them between you.  Your clit feels huge, engorged as your fingers brush it. Your voice breathing out little yeses as you draw the invisible sigils that you know will get you there. 

He watches you. His brows furrowed together, mouth hanging open in a little ‘oh’. This is so much better, being able to see him.  He is panting, sweating, straining, doing everything in his power to make you cum yet again.  Good lord he is so unbelievably sexy, and he loves you. The thought strikes you, hard.

Suddenly the tinder catches, fire shoots deep into your core as you clench around him, erupting into flames that envelop your pelvis, your spine, your chest  up your neck and into your brain. 

 “Fuck yeah, that’s my girl!” His voice is deep, almost harsh as his hips snap harder, faster back and forth.  

You are jerking on him, your orgasm filling you, just as you expect he is going to with his cum. You remove your fingers only to have them replaced with his, light and fast rubbing side to side on your sensitive nub. 

“Nonononono!” you scream hoarsely, pushing uselessly at his hands.

“Oh yes, yes,” he says through clenched teeth.  “My pussy is getting the works tonight my love, you know what to say and I’m gonna suck, finger, fuck, and shake that pussy until you do.”

You realize he has lulled you into a comfortable cycle of orgasm, come down, relax, then back to orgasm. Now his beautifully evil plan unfolds, and you are so unbelievably sensitive. 

You try wriggling away from him, but his hand is clamped down on your thigh as he keeps fucking you. Your eyes are squeezed shut, it’s overwhelming, but oh so good. In a flash he is gone, for a split second there is nothing touching you, and your eyes shoot open, trying to breathe. Then his mouth closes over your pussy. Your breath is gone again as he pulls your clit into the vacuum of his mouth.  His tongue is merciless against you. Your hips vibrate, your hands grasp his hair. Your screams fill the room, you can’t even hear the sloppy suction of his mouth on you.

“ SS… SSS… No,no, no! STOP!” you finally cry shaking your head. He rises, immediately grasping your pussy in his large hand, shaking it, keeping you writhing. 

“No, I won’t my love, you know that,” his voice is so smooth and relaxed. The palm of his hand pressing and shaking your mons. 

Your orgasm rocks you again and again. Again and again you beg him to stop, but never use your word.  You have backed yourself up to the headboard in an effort to get away from his hands, his fingers, his mouth.  But in the next second,  you are pushing against it and towards him. Your body and mind are locked in conflict; it’s too much, it’s not enough. You are pushed so far into pleasure you don’t know how much longer you can stand it. At the same time, you never want him to stop.

“Ok Princess,” he says, getting on his knees, lifting your ankles to his shoulders,”I’m gonna fuck my sweet little pussy until I cum. Until I’m satisfied.”   His grin is nothing short of devilry as he slides, long and hard, inside you. Your body is responding without your consent, attempting to plank on his shoulders to get away from his cock. 

“Oh no you don’t, “ he pushes your hips back down, impaling you once again, “you are gonna take my cock, darling, like a good girl,” he admonishes.

He leans down, your legs sliding down his arms, your knees close to your armpits. He grabs your arms near the elbows pinning you down like a frog on its back. You can’t push him off, you don’t want to, not that your body is listening to you. It’s insane how fucking maniacally good it feels to be so overstimulated. He slides in and out experimentally in this new position. Fuck, he is deep as he slides right into your g-spot. 

Oh. Holy. Fuckballs. 

You grit your teeth, shaking your head ‘no’. 

No to him. 

No to yourself. 

You refuse to say the word until he orgasms again. You want to hear what a good girl you are, you want to be his incredible Princess, you want to take everything he can give you. 

He rails into you, grunting, growling, moaning; sounds he knows drive you wild.  You had no idea that being held down like this would be such a fucking turn on. No idea that you could feel this good for this long. You are about to give in, scream the word. When he pulls out of you and pumping his cock with his hand, spatters your pussy and your belly with thick, creamy cum. His panting groans fill the air,  his sweat drips onto your legs. You think you are home free, until his palm starts rubbing his cum into your pussy in circles.

“What a good girl you are, taking my cock so deep” he croons at you. “You want more?” He slips his finger in you, “I’ll keep going Angel, my sweet love.” 

You can’t believe he still has the energy to keep going. His thumb falls onto your clit and you just can’t anymore. 

“FUCK!  Sushi!” you cry out once.  You are fucking worn out. Your whole pelvis is buzzing and  sobs start shaking your body in an effort to process the whole fucking thing.

He stops instantly and gathers you in his arms.

“Shh, darling. My good Princess. I’m so proud of you, my good girl, my love,” he says softly against your temple. 

He is fucking amazing. 

He holds you, messy and sweaty, until your heart rate slows and your breathing evens. He holds the bottle of water as you drink, then takes you to the shower. You sit on the little bench, trying not to pass out. He cleans and dries you both quickly and tosses the ruined bedspread off the bed before tucking you into the sheets. He covers you  with a blanket he pulls out from his closet  and turns out the light. He climbs in behind you, warm body pressed against your back. 

“Good night my love. I love you,” he whispers into your ear.

“Mmm, my Austin, love you,” is all you can get out before sleep claims you.

Your eyes flutter open in the morning and you are absolutely relaxed. The revelations of yesterday slide into focus. Austin is in love with you. Austin wants you to stay with him, forever. Austin plans to show you how much your stability matters to him too. It’s like the pieces of your real life are sliding into focus and that fake unhappy life is melting away. When you think about living happily ever after with Austin, you are calm and  completely happy. Austin is breathing heavy and even behind you, still deeply asleep. When you  get up to use the bathroom you find you are definitely sore, but it’s the best kind of sore you have ever been. When you snuggle back against Austin, a little smile creeps over his face.

#austin butler #austin butler fanfic #austin butler smut #austin butler fic #austin butler x reader #@slowsweetlove #@purejasmine #@richardslady121 #austin butler/reader

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

Wow, I'm mad at myself for being late to the favorite fic subject coming up /j

Personally, I'm a huge sucker for cya and have itysg as a second(however, if we decide to count your other fics then... itysg would be third while your smile makes me smile would be second). I think it's the amount of world building that makes it so interesting for me along with the fact that it takes place before the archon war. Like, there hardly passes a day where cya doesn't just... scoot right over into my thoughts making it kinda hard to reread cause it know it so well </3.

I am sad to say that I haven't checked out BitA yet. When I first saw it while looking for some other fic of yours to read, I didn't really like apocalypse stories much. I might check it out though cause I'm a lot more open to those kinds of stories now. I also remember starting every good intention, but I don't remember why I stopped... I think I had to get off my phone for a bit and just... forgot to continue? Idk I really should check those two...

You really get me Sprinkles- those murder mystery fics are so good! I remember reading one of genshin that was also mixed with a time loop and I just ate it up-(it was sadly discontinued and then deleted from ao3, but not before I managed to download it for future offline reading-) I'm honestly interested in those wriolette ones you mentionned, may I have a few recs if you don't mind? I need more wriolette in my life.

i do in fact have some wriolette murder mystery / cop mystery recs

A Match Made in France by oooohscar - not a murder mystery per se but it does contain mystery investigations. it's basically furina trying to matchmake neuvillette and wriothesley and she quickly discovers they work well as investigation partners? and so she starts trying to get them to investigate things together, but then shit gets out of hand. it's so fucking good and so fucking funny. like it's pre-reveal furina but i can forgive the mild ooc and- y'know, furina portrayal pre-trauma-reveal (?) just because it's so well written and hilarious (and also she's not portrayed entirely as a brat, i find her more absurdly histrionic than anything). also it's not just furina pov, it switches between all of them. it's incomplete but updating, and absolutely worth a read

The Gambler's Debt by Marsrevale - much more serious than the one above, this one is a murder mystery through and through. the mystery is still only starting, so it probably has a long way to go, but i'm patient so i'll keep up. it's basically neuvillette and clorinde going to investigate a series of murders in the fortress of meropide (this is a sort of modern au so meropide is a gambling house / hotel i think) and wriothesley is the main suspect, but there's also stuff going on between neuvillette and wriothesley bc they knew each other long ago but only wriothesley recognizes him. idk how else to describe it, it's really intriguing so far, i hope the mystery pans out nicely

Hold my hand, never let me go by Jinnmi - also a proper murder mystery, this one is about what is essentially a branch of fontaine's police force for criminal investigation led by wriothesley and the many interconected cases they have to solve. neuvillette is sent as a consultant to keep an eye on them, but ends up basically joining the team as they all try to solve a big case that seems to threaten the country whole and is also somehow connected to wriothesley's past. this one is very good, the murders might be a bit too gruesome for sensitive people? but still, really nice. i love the unsettling vibe of whatever the one behind this all is planning, the suspense is also really good. still updating and i rush to it every time a new chapter comes out, it had me in a chokehold when i first found it.

hope those sound interesting!

#in case you're wondering babysitting has nowhere near any of the angst that the average apocalypse story has #like it's a found family speedrun more than it is an apocalypse #the apocalypse is just the setting hahah #anyway #hnnnn thank you;;;;;;;;;;;;; #ily <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

[rainbowstargazerlilies]

Okay, so for the year anniversary, I opened up comments for some non-canon bits. I said if people didn't ask for something specific, they'd probably get something weird. I ended up doing a multi-part non canonical bit, which I love very much. You can hunt through the comments in the chapter for it, or you can enjoy it here under the read-more. Hope you like it! And hey, if you want to see more in this little AU story thread, comments are still open.

Part 1:

Marius wasn’t entirely sure what direction this day had taken, but he wasn’t necessarily happy about it.

“And who exactly are you?” he said, gesturing at. . . well, there was a lot to gesture at. The insanely curling hair, and the far too pointed smile. Usually, nobody else on the Aurora was supposed to be here. Usually, people knew better than to interrupt Marius when he was– not PINING, per se, but heavily considering how to talk to Lyf in the near future, or trying to figure out where Brenn might be. He’d retaliated enough to make them form the habit.

“You can call me Michael,” the creature said, and its smile deepened. “You must be Marius.”

“Yes, now you can stop bothering me. Go find Brian or someone. He’s probably not that busy.”

Well, that wasn’t entirely correct. Brian was just being annoying and not inviting Marius to whatever secret conversations were going on. Extremely rude of him. Marius could afford to be a little petty.

Instead of responding, Michael turned his hand, and a voice started echoing from nearby.

Wait.

Wait, Marius knew that voice.

““I know you’re not here,” the far too familiar voice said from the corner of the room, just past what appeared to be a yellow door, “but you know what, Marius? It would be so good to hear your voice right now.”

Marius, as it turned out, could run very fast when prompted. And Lyf, saying something like that? He didn’t care if it was impossible. He just wanted to see Lyf. He wanted to be there, and to say anything, and to make Lyf smile again, because they sounded so tired and upset and more than a little scared. If he could be there for ANY of it, then Marius was going to take the chance.

The door was locked. The door was fucking locked, and the creature in the center of the room kept laughing.

Slowly, Marius turned back to stare at ‘Michael’, who’d come up behind him.

“Open the door.”

“They’re not really here, you know,” Michael said, almost singsong. “They were there, though. And they talked about you, baron.” It reached down and tapped his nose lightly. “Now, if you hurt them–”

“If you know where they are,” Marius said, beyond frustrated, “then let me see them.”

Michael considered. “They did want to see you,” it said, twisting its hand once again. Once more, Lyf’s voice echoed beyond the door.

“I . . . I don’t even know if you’re real or not, and I still wish I could see you again. Pathetic, maybe, but. . . you made the darkness bearable, somehow. Nobody’s done that before. And you held my hand through it all, whether it was snakes or squamous things, or outer gods rearing their heads. And I just wish. . .”

Somehow, the doorknob still wasn’t working, and neither was trying to break through the door, no matter how long and hard Marius battered at it. Stupid, really. Michael had said that Lyf wasn't inside, but. . . but for all Marius knew, Michael had lied about that, and Lyf was in there, still tired and sad and wishing for him to be there. If there was one thing that Marius had learned from those dreams, it was that he always wanted to be there when Lyf needed his help. “What the fuck do you want from me?” Marius asked Michael finally.

“I just wanted to inform you,” Michael said, with an amused look at Marius’s efforts to break down the impossible door, “that if you hurt the inspector, you will have to deal with me. And I have ways to deal with even the most. . . stubborn of creatures.”

Then, it opened the door, stepping inside before Marius could. “Now, goodbye,” it began, but–

But Marius was still fast. And Lyf had been inside this impossible door. Maybe, if he went through it, he could find Lyf on the other side, no matter where it ended up.

It was a matter of seconds to stick his foot in the doorway, dart by a startled-seeming Michael, and make his way into the corridor.

Part 2:

“What are you doing here,” Michael said from behind him.

Marius just kept walking. “You know exactly what I want here,” he said, not bothering to turn. If he turned, then he had the feeling that the corridors would only get worse. 

So, maybe entering the yellow door hadn’t been the best idea. The corridors seemed impossible, and they kept changing whenever Marius looked around, and there was nothing to say that any of this was meant to make sense at all. Quite the opposite, actually. 

But then, there were two reasons that had Marius continuing to walk forward, no matter what Michael offered. The first was that Marius happened to be very stubborn. The second, though. . . 

Michael knew Lyf. Knew Lyf well enough to have had some sort of echo of their voice on the other side of that door. There was no sign of Lyf themself so far, so Marius was assuming that it was probably some kind of recording, but if Michael knew Lyf, then that meant that Lyf was still alive, and that Michael could take Marius right to them. And Marius dearly, dearly wanted to see Lyf and know they were all right. 

“And you think you can navigate my corridors,” Michael asked, and. . . well, that was a problem, wasn’t it? Marius might not be the member of the crew with the worst sense of direction (that honor still went to Tim), but whatever this place was, it seemed to completely define mapping.

“I can try,” Marius settled on. “Lyf deserves it.”

Michael was quiet for a bit. Good. Marius could use the quiet to try to figure out which corridor to go down. There were so many twists and turns, and if he just found the right one– well. Lyf had said they’d talk once Marius was on the same planet. Marius was looking forward to it. 

“How did you meet the inspector?” Michael finally asked. 

Oh, Marius could talk about that for days. He grinned. “I was a prisoner, and they were a police inspector, and they brought me and the others lunch one day, and they didn’t even blink at our mechanisms. Mentioned their sister, I think. She’s got a mechanical arm, same as me. Hope she’s okay.”

Michael blinked. “Sister.”

“Yes, Brenn. She’s. . . I don’t even know where she is, but she’s fantastic. And Lyf. . . Lyf was the best. It wasn’t quite love at first sight, but it was very, very close. I mean, they’re –”

Michael stopped walking, and after a moment, Marius stopped walking too. 

“Go through this one,” Michael said finally, and they pried the mirror out of its frame with those very, very long fingers.

“What?”

“Go through this one,” Michael said, sounding testy, “and you will be closer. I will go find my sibling, and you can try to explain yourself to your inspector. A metal arm, you said?”

“Brenn? Yes, a metal arm, and she’s got rainbow freckles, and a bunch of curly– and you’re gone.”

Marius stared at the mirror frame, considering it. It might get him where he wanted to go, true. But it also felt very, very much like doing what was expected of him, which didn’t rub against him the right way after all. 

Finally, he shrugged, and went through the mirror next to it. It’d probably be close enough, and if Michael had been lying the whole time, it only made sense to not go through the one Michael had pointed out. Trusting something that owned a place like this one just seemed like a terrible idea. 

He emerged, oddly enough, on a London street. The door had apparently come out on an alleyway, and Marius could see a park nearby. And across the street. . . across the street was a flat building that only gave him a headache. It shimmered and blinked in the corners of his vision, and it only got worse if he looked at it head-on.

“You there,” a voice said from nearby, and Marius turned to see an older woman, arms full of groceries.

“Hello?” he tried. 

“Baron von Raum, yes?” she asked, and smiled at him. “I’m Mrs. Wilton. Help me bring in my groceries, please? I think we should have a talk.”

Part 3:

Apparently, when someone like Mrs. Wilton said that they should have a talk, she meant tea. 

In theory, Marius didn’t mind tea parties. He’d participated in several over the years, whether it was one thrown by the Toy Soldier with fancy hats galore, or something smaller from Ashes where the “tea” wasn’t anything of the sort. But in practice, right now . . .

Mrs. Wilton’s flat was in the strangest building Marius had seen in a fairly long time. The outside walls had chalk markings and what looked to be colorful glints, and looking at it for any length of time left him with a headache. As he’d gotten into the flat itself, well. . . 

There were so many rainbows. Why were there so many rainbows? Was Lyf nearby, and if so, why was Marius wasting any of his time on drinking tea?

“So,” he said abruptly, putting his tea cup down. “How have we met before?”

“We haven’t,” Mrs. Wilton replied. She looked almost startled at the thought. “No, you rappelled past my window once, and one of your family members made all the right apologies.”

Marius frowned. He thought he’d remember rappelling past someone’s window like that. Sure, it was a move he’d pulled before, but. . . at a building like this one? Surely it’d have stuck in his memory. 

Unless. . . 

“When was this,” he began to ask, but Mrs. Wilton was faster. 

“Now, what exactly are your feelings towards Lyfrassir Edda?”

Well. That was unexpected. How many friends had Lyf made that they just hadn’t mentioned in the dreams? They’d mentioned an Oliver and a Gerry, and Nastya to boot, but. . . surely they’d have mentioned if they’d adopted a grandmother at some point. 

Then again, it wasn’t like Marius had told Lyf every detail of his life since they’d last seen each other in person. There had never been enough time for that sort of thing, and there were far more important things to try to say. Like explaining to Lyf that he actually liked them, or asking Lyf whether they were still single. 

“I’ve been in love with them since. . . maybe the second time I saw them?” Marius said as honestly as he could, tapping his chin. “The first time was far too short to fall in love with a person, but I definitely wanted to get to know them better. And it was within that first year of knowing them that I knew I was in love with them, but I’d definitely– right. I want to be sure they’re all right, and to make sure they know how amazing they are, and if they wanted, I’d jump at the chance of staying by their side for the rest of immortality.”

Mrs. Wilton nodded slowly. “I thought so,” she said, and took another sip of tea.

“You. You thought so.”

“Well,” she said gently, “at first I was wondering who the young ruffian Lyf was complaining about was. You didn’t make the best first impression, duck, climbing out a window like that. But they’ve talked about you long enough that I got the shape of the story. Biscuit?”

Mechanically, Marius took one. “So. So they are alive.”

“Of course,” she responded, looking a bit startled. “I messaged them when we first sat down to tea. They should be at the door any moment. But first, I wanted to tell you that if you hurt them. . .”

“If I hurt them, you’ll come after me?” Marius asked, looking her up and down. It didn’t seem the most threatening at first, but then again, he’d seen enough grandmothers in his time to not take the threat lightly. 

“I have my contacts,” Mrs. Wilton replied. She nodded to him. “And Lyf has their friends, too. I would be surprised if you did not end up getting more conversations like this one. They’ve been hurt enough.”

“Yes, they have,” Marius said softly, remembering Lyf over those dreams. The way Lyf’s face had broken into tears again and again, and the ways they kept getting hurt. “I promise, Mrs. Wilton, I’ll do my best to never be one of the things hurting them.”

“Good,” she said, standing up herself. “Because they should be at the door now.”

The door was in fact swinging open, and Marius could hear someone saying, “Mrs. Wilton? Your text was not the most precise, what did you need me for–”

And then there Lyf stood, feet away from Marius, staring at him, and Marius. . . 

Marius managed a wave, and a quiet, “Hi,” before suddenly they were hugging, and Marius didn’t even know who had started it. All he knew was that he never wanted it to end.

#the stars claim them #now we are derailed #this is NOT canon but I enjoyed it