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octuscle · 1 year

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The spirit of the previous owner

By the time he was in the cab, Connor had calmed down to some extent. He and his friend had had a terrible fight in their impressive apartment on Marylebone High Street. Not only had a Wedgewood plate or two been broken in the process, but his friend had almost pushed him down the stairs. Connor had loved this man more than anything. He had been his protector. And his stallion. He had felt safe in his presence. And had been fucked like he had never been fucked before. They had had good times. But now times were bad. All they did was argue, his friend made fun of Connor publicly, calling him a pussy and a faggot in front of friends. Yet it was Connor who had brought the money into the relationship. Through the successful sale of two startups he had founded, Connor had more money than he could ever use. His friend had only brought an imposing appearance and a huge cock into the relationship.

Connor had put up with it all, but now he was afraid his friend was going to seriously hurt him. He had been crying, locked in the guest bathroom of his own apartment on the phone with his best friend. And she'd been simultaneously Googling a realtor for a refuge for Connor. Even for people of Connor's budget, immediately available properties in London weren't exactly common. But his best friend had called him back after a short while to tell him that she had found something at least for the transition.

Connor hadn't packed. He'd just grabbed his coat, pocketed his wallet and keys, and walked out of the apartment. The "Yeah, fuck off you miserable faggot" that his friend yelled into the stairwell after him had certainly been heard by all the neighbors. He could no longer return to his old home.

He had never been to Brixton in his life, Connor thought to himself. And when the cab turned into the destination street, he had to swallow. Unadorned row houses, everything a bit run down. But the house the cab stopped in front of was actually the prettiest of the row. Freshly renovated, a bit disturbing was the large modern garage that had concreted over the entire front yard. But on top of the garage, as far as he could tell, was a large roof terrace.

The realtor was waiting for him in front of the house. An unpleasant fellow, nervously smoking a cigarette. Connor hated smokers. But all right now. They shook hands, the realtor opened the door and Connor entered. The first impression was good. Bright, tidy. The furnishings were new, but unimaginative from IKEA or something similar. But that could be changed. No art on the walls, but posters, some not even framed. The motifs are already good, Connor thought with a grin. Predominantly announcements of boxing fights. Pictures of crisp men. He had little love for the working class, but horny fella's they were.

The realtor began to explain when the house was from. That it would be sold fully furnished. Directly ready to move in. That there were plenty of other interested parties. That the price was a bargain. A voice inside Connor told him that was exactly what he needed right now. Connor said he agreed, if it was okay, he'd stay right here. The realtor's mouth dropped open.

Connor had emailed his financial advisor to handle everything financial with the realtor. He had taken the key and pushed the realtor out the door. This was his house now. He had never had a house to himself before. This was his castle. He took a deep breath and felt secure.

The realtor couldn't believe his luck. The house had been unsold for over a year. The previous owner had been shot in his living room. Some gangland war or something. It had taken weeks to clean up the mess. Still, all the prospective buyers had felt uncomfortable as soon as they opened the door. He himself, too. And now this slim young man with an almost feminine appearance came and bought the house. Without batting an eye. Without trading.

Connor walked through the house. It was quite spacious. There was a living-dining room with an open kitchen downstairs and a terrace with a small garden. Upstairs were two rooms and two bathrooms. One had obviously been used as a bedroom, one as a study. A man had lived here. On the walls posters with box motifs, of motorcycles. Almost no books. And the man had been sporty. In the closet were tracksuits, sports clothes made of shiny synthetic fibers, like those worn by the men on the posters. A few pairs of jeans, a couple of jackets. My God, the morning coats took up more space in his closet than his previous owner's entire wardrobe did here. But it was perfect that he had something to change into here at all.

Lastly, Connor went to the garage. It was impressive. More like a fully equipped repair garage. With three high-horsepower looking motorcycles. And with a long wall of cabinets that held motorcycle suits, leather jackets and pants, as well as mechanic overalls. Okay, so in terms of the amount of clothing, maybe there was parity after all….

While everything else in the house looked as if its previous owner had just been out exercising, on a motorcycle ride, or at the pub, the kitchen was empty. There were no pots or anything like that. Just protein powder and bars. A few bottles of water. And a few cans of beer. He was about to grab a bottle of water when a voice told him that maybe a beer was more appropriate for the occasion. He opened a can, poured himself a glass and sat down in the TV chair. After a few sips, he fell asleep.

It was already dark outside when he woke up. My God, had he had a wild dream. He had gotten into a boxing ring. And his opponent was his friend. And he had knocked him out with one punch. He couldn't get the other crap together. He took the glass of beer and drank it down in one go. Shit, it was warm and stale. And he was hungry. If he remembered correctly, there had been a kebab joint not far away at all. That was better than nothing now. He wanted to reach for his coat, but something told him that black oxfords and a brown camel hair coat didn't go with kebabs. Even though his shoes and jacket were too big, he grabbed a bomber jacket from wardrobe, slipped on a pair of sneakers, and headed out.

At first, Connor had considered eating the kebab at home. But he was really hungry and ate it right in the snack bar, standing up. And drank a beer from a can to go with it. If his sophisticated friend could see him like that. The asshole deserved a punch in the face, he thought to himself. And cringed at the thought. Although he was right. Back home, he drank another beer. That would make him tired. He had to go to bed now.

Since he hadn't found any pajamas or anything like that in the closet, Connor had slept in his underwear. And obviously he had had a very wet dream tonight. Heck, how much had he jizzed out there? The realtor had said something about a basement, hopefully he'd find a washing machine there. But now he had to pee first. "Hey, hey, hey, mate!" That hadn't been a voice inside him now. He heard a voice. "In this house, a man sits only to shit. Pissing is standing up!" Connor was transfixed. "Trust me, mate, I only want what's best for you. Now piss, jerk off your morning wood, and then get a fucking haircut. You look like a girl." Connor was way too perplexed. Besides, the voice made him horny. Powerful, masculine, but companionable. With a heavy accent. That's how the boxers on the posters had to talk. Connor cummed. But didn't hit the toilet bowl but the toilet lid. He wanted to wipe it all away with some toilet paper, but that's when the voice spoke up again. "Nah, mate! This is your house, this is your cum. If it bothers anyone, tell them to clean it up."

The voice was right, after all. He finally had to live his life. And the voice was also right about the hairstyle. Connor wanted to change some things, the haircut was a start. But who had put his clothes on the bed for him? T-shirt, jockstrap, white socks, tracksuit. And there was a message on his cell phone. With an address. And a terse text, "Ask for Stevie." The barber wasn't far away. Because he found nothing else, Connor had eaten two protein bars for breakfast. He hadn't showered. He assumed the barber would wash his hair. He grabbed his sneakers and jacket from yesterday, got dressed, and left the house. Crazy, but he felt like the shoes fit like a glove today.

Stevie was more of a Steve. A colossus who was inked all over. He didn't ask for what Connor wanted. Stevie didn't wash his hair. Stevie only did a haircut. And it took five minutes. "Eight pounds, mate," Stevie grunted, "and tomorrow at 08:00 sharp, please." Connor left the store confused. Why tomorrow? He looked in the shop window next to the barber shop. He wasn't concerned with the offers for new cell phone contracts. He was concerned with the reflection. He looked like a chav. He looked like most men who were on the street at this hour.

On the way home, Connor had done some shopping. A few convenience foods, a few cans of beer. And a few motorcycle and martial arts magazines. Once home, he went in search of the washing machine. The entrance to the basement had been moved to the garage after the house was remodeled. And yes, there was a laundry room in the basement. Also, a storage room. But most importantly, there was the basement room under the garage. He had expected a lot of things. But not a darkroom. Fully equipped with sling and St. Andrew's cross. And most of all, with a jail cell.

There had been no net in the basement. When he got back upstairs, he had ten missed calls. His friend. He turned off the cell phone. Still, he heard a phone ring. The ringing came from the jacket he had just put on. There was a cell phone and an anonymous caller. He picked it up. And the voice told him that he could use this phone for now.

Connor took the phone, sat down in the living room, and inspected the phone thoroughly. A carelessly maintained address book. Stevie, after all, he already knew. Otherwise, mostly just abbreviated first names or cryptic ones like "Weed" or "Ink." And under Connor was his own number. Nothing surprised him anymore. Although it was actually maybe a little early, he grabbed a beer and flipped through the magazines. Fuck, they were already hot fella's. Both the lads in the leather suits and the mixed martial arts fighters. Connor jerked off more than once. It made him even more horny to cum on his torso and rub the jizz in. Hell, he had all the choices here, why didn't he put on some of the clothes here to jerk off. He tried on racing suits, boxers and mechanic overalls. Every outfit made him horny. In all of them he cummed. By now it was dark again. The house looked like a battlefield. Clothes were lying around everywhere. He himself was encrusted by the many cum. And still not showered. Then he got a WhatsApp message. From a Nick. With a location. And whether he would like to have a beer. The location was quite a distance away. But why not? He was about to call a cab when the voice came on. How many more motorcycles did he need? He was supposed to get around like a man. Hell, yes! Motorcycles were his world. So Connor put on a suit that went well with the bright red Ducati, grabbed his boots, gloves and helmet and took off.

It had been a great evening with the lads. But keeping Stevie waiting was unwise, Connor thought to himself. As he pissed, he wondered if he hadn't been circumcised. But the massive cock he held in his hands was not. He spread half of his piss on the toilet seat. Fuck, it was his piss. Even if the way to Stevie was short, he took his neon green Kawasaki Ninja for it. Today Stevie took more time and shaved bald in the sides and neck. It looked really good. Connor slipped Stevie 20 pounds, said goodbye to the lads and left the store. Shit, he didn't have any cigarettes with him. So he went to the next store, bought some cigarettes and a lighter and lit a cigarette on the next park bench. While doing so, he checked his cell phone. He still had a number of unread messages. But one was brand new: "Mate, workout at 10:00?" "Sure thing," Connor replied. He got on his bike and intuitively rode to his boxing center.

Sure Connor was a lightweight. But he worked out hard with his trainer. And technically, he wasn't bad at all. After two hours, the two were through. Connor went back to the weights for two more hours. His dream was to build mass. He never wanted to be pushed around by anyone ever again.

So slowly a new routine came into his life. Get up at 06:00, run for an hour, visit Stevie, work out. And in the evenings, roaming the pubs with the lads. Maybe with an occasional fuck in the loo. His body was developing very neatly. He'd persuaded one of the lads from the kebab shop to clean up his mess three times a week while he was out working out. Marylebone High Street was a long way away. Just as he was sitting at Stevie's one morning, he got a message. "Appointment today at 4:00 pm." The sender was Ink. He looked in the address book. Yes, there was an address listed. So he headed there after practice. Damn, why hadn't the idea come to him himself and much earlier. He was the only one of his mates without a tattoo. For a start, a full sleave was quite a good project. At least for the next few days he now had a few new appointments in his calendar.

When the inking of his arm was done, he stood in front of the mirror in the morning after taking a piss. He really liked what he saw. He saw a man who fit the house. And the house fit him. While sitting with Stevie, it occurred to him to check the voicemail on his old cell phone. His financial advisor had told him that everything was taken care of. The house was paid for and his friend's existing powers of attorney had been cancelled. Some messages were from his best friend. He wrote her a message telling her not to worry, he just needed some extended time off. And many messages were from his friend. First nasty abuse, then eventually begging and pleading. Sure, without Connor's money he was nothing. Connor sent a message with his new address "Tomorrow at 8:00 pm." He awaited his friend leaning against the window frame. The T-shirt showed off his new tattoos well. With his hands deep in the pockets of his workout pants, Connor massaged his cock. And down in his darkroom, a couple of his buddies were waiting with bulging bladders for the new piss pig to move into the cell.

#male tf #muscle tf #inked man #revange tf

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nikethestatue · 5 months

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A Match Baked In Heaven

Chapter IX

Too Afraid to Love You

Piglet has never been handled so roughly or with so much indignity. But despite his protests and super threatening growls, which could scare anyone, Elain didn’t even care. She jammed him into a doggy carrier, or what could be called a backpack with holes, and then threw on her jacket, while sliding into her trainers. She swung the carrier over her shoulder and then tugged the loops over her arms. Piglet was shoved face first into the mop of her hair, and he was of mind to maybe bite her, but he didn’t. But he was so mad, he couldn’t even look at her, so he just sat in his backpack with holes, and bounced about, while she ran down the street. He still considered biting her on the ear perhaps, but he couldn’t reach it. So his plan went to naught. But he was very angry with her, especially because she was running! Running. She didn’t run. But here she was, her feet slapping on the pavement loudly, while she jerked and jostled him in this abominable contraption. It’s like she didn’t even care! She didn’t care about his comfort and well-being. Not ever since dad came into her life. Not that he didn’t love dad–dad was the best, but still. Piglet was still important, and he felt that he did many incredible things for Elain, and she needed to think about them.

Piglet considered everything that Elain should’ve acknowledged and be grateful for. Did he not bring her fun things from the street? Shiny wrappers, dead squirrels, empty packets of things unknown? Didn’t that count for something? And how he sometimes woke her up at 7:09 am, even though his breakfast was at 7:02 am! He cared. He cared so much, he let her sleep an extra seven minutes! All all those late night walks, where he definitely, absolutely sensed serial killers in the bushes, and he was ready to protect her. Where was his ‘thank you’? All those go-potty-serial-killer-men-in-the-bushes that he was so vigilant about and ready to deliver a deadly strike at. And, he also always met and gave his seal of approval to all the random people that came to the office. He met them and he introduced himself, and he was polite, but he was also very vigilant, as usual. He didn’t even like anyone, except for two people, and one of them was dad anyway. And the other one was the big bloke that came with dad. The big bloke was alright too–he wanted paw and Piglet shook with him.

Oh…

Well then. At least Elain brought him to the butchers’. He loved this place. And they always gave him treats too. So, maybe he’d find it in himself to forgive her.

“Miss Elain, ‘morning!”

“Morning, Jack. How are you?”

“Working hard. How’s the matchmaking business?”

“Booming.”

“That right? Well, not surprising. Those Gen Xers don’t know how to talk to other humans, so they need all the help that they can get.”

Elain laughed, “You aren’t wrong.”

“How can I help? What would you like?”

“Chicken, please.”

Elain Archeron was a proper lady. She was of good stock, a fine beauty, polite and she knew her meat. She was one to keep traditions, and she patronised private businesses in the neighbourhood. People around here liked her. She was an integral part of the community.

“Piglet, how are you in that rucksack?” the butcher chuckled, as he weighed the chicken pieces.

“He is not very happy, but I am in a hurry,” Elain admitted.

“A romantic date for you then?” Jack joked, as he wrapped the chicken in paper, and then filled a bag with chicken feet and necks–Piglet’s favourites.

To his surprise, the pretty matchmaker got all red in the face and quickly waved her card over the reader, as she grabbed her packages.

“Something like that,” she muttered.

“Ahh well then. Good luck with that. Hope the fella treats you well, Miss.”

“He does,” she confirmed.

“Bye Piglet,” Jack called out. “Take care of Miss Elain and keep her safe.”

I always do Piglet snorted indignantly.

Piglet alerted Elain that Azriel was coming. Nowadays, she had no doubts about what was to happen–if her dog began going crazy by the door, she knew that Azriel was nearby.

And Elain was…excited.

It’s only been 3 days, barely, since he came to cook for her and her sisters, and she was excited to see Azriel. She was also very concerned about his injury and his general well-being, and needed to see him with her eyes and ensure that he was actually okay.

She’s been pacing for an hour, aimlessly cleaning all the counters, and while Piglet was able to go downstairs and hang out in the library room, and by ‘hang out’ she meant sleep, snoring loudly, she couldn’t do the same. She was thinking, her head aching from all the intrusive thoughts, which were mostly about Azriel Night. And she wished she didn’t have to think quite so much, but all she could imagine and think of was him here, in this space, with her, where he seemed to belong. And she didn’t know what to make of it. She didn’t know why he consumed her and why she wanted to care for him, and why she worried about him, and why she wanted to cry when he held Piglet, and why she was proud of how he treated her sisters and how kind he’s been to all of them.

Therefore, when the knock came, she was already waiting. And she didn’t even care if she seemed overly eager and borderline desperate. She needed to see him. She almost ripped the door off the hinges, since she pulled it so hard.

Azriel was pale, dressed in a black windbreaker, black Adidas trainers and black joggers. He was a far cry from the usual confident and cocky Azriel, the football superstar. He was wearing a hood, but his black hair stuck to his forehead, and his shoulders seemed to stoop.

“Hey gorgeous girl,” he smiled at her, his eyes widening a bit when he beheld her. “May I come in?”

Elain shook her head and then took him by the hand and drew him inside, while muttering, “it’s like inviting a vampire into your house…”

Azriel smiled and then threaded his fingers with hers, while picking up Piglet with his other hand. The pug was quiet, but happy. He put his big round head on Azriel’s shoulder and sighed contently, while murmuring and singing something under his breath.

“Cassian said that he cried,” Azriel said softly, watching Elain, who looked…scrumptious. She was wearing a loose knit jumper, little knit shorts, and knit knee highs, which ended just above her knee. He was trying to avert his eyes, but who was he kidding? Those soft, pale thighs were the death of him. He was obsessed with her figure on any day, but this…well, this was a very special and a very delightful present for him.

“You spoke with Cassian?” Elain asked quickly, as she blushed and lowered her eyes. Azriel gently pulled her to him and she was forced to stand in front of him, as he towered over her, while she stubbornly looked down at the floor.

“I have. He rung and told me that you were ‘spewing fire and brimstone’–his words–and told me that Pink cried because he was so upset when I took a tumble,”

“TOOK A TUMBLE!!??” Elain cried out, “are you kidding me?! You were pushed and I thought your leg was broken! That’s how it looked on the telly,”

“And then you rang me like eleven times and messaged me another six?” he smirked like an asshole, and Elain made to pull her hand away, huffing with anger and embarrassment.

“Leave me alone,” she hissed. “Why are you even here?”

He shrugged indifferently,

“Suppose I wanted to be with my favourite person. And my favourite dog.”

“As if I am your favourite person…” Elain even rolled her eyes, but the flush of her skin told Azriel everything he needed to know. She liked it. She liked the compliment. No matter what she said and how far she rolled her eyes, she liked being his favourite person.

“You are. And besides, you want me here,” he told her, and his fingers squeezing hers tighter.

“The cheek of you is unbelievable,” she complained, annoyed and looking absolutely adorable. All her huffing and indignation were offset by her sublimely sexy outfit and the endless blushes on her cheeks. “I don’t want you here,”

“I wasn’t the one who was blowing up the phone,” he commented innocently, burying his nose in Piglet’s neck.

“I was simply inquiring after your well-being!” she yelled. “It was nothing more! I was being polite. I think it’s quite normal for a person to reach out and inquire after someone’s health, when they are injured or ill!”

“And I appreciate that more than you can imagine,” Azriel said gently, and then lifted her hand to his face, to his mouth. “And Cassian demanded to know why I haven’t put a ring on this pretty finger yet?” With that, he pressed his lips to her ring finger, and she gulped loudly, unable to respond. What the hell was happening? Why would Cassian ask something so absurd? Both of these brothers were completely bonkers.

Azriel continued, unperturbed, “and you know what I told him? Not yet, but I will.”

Elain’s saucer-like eyes flickered with its warm brown light. She seemed both shocked, and mollified by his words. But…

The sheer dominance of him. The presumption. The proprietary ownership.

He displayed no hesitation. And his confidence wasn’t arrogant, but just annoyingly self-assured. As if he decided that this was going to be the way, and he was going to make it so. Like she was his.

“Mr. Night!” Elain growled at him. “Every single time. Every. Single. Time. We’ve been together you told me that you will marry me,”

“Which I will,” he concurred confidently.

“No you will not! This is abnormal behaviour. You cannot tell me things like these!”

“Well, that’s where you are mistaken, gorgeous girl. See, if a man tells a woman that he will marry her–at any point in their association–that just means that he will. He set his eyes on her. He is now a hunter. And he will hunt her until she is his. Until she bears his young,”

“Ew. What?!” Elain winced, grossed out.

He laughed.

“It is what it is, Ms. Archeron.”

“I am not marrying you,” she declared.

He only shrugged.

“We’ll see.”

“Nothing to see. I am not your type,” she reminded him.

“You grew on me,” he parried.

“Like a rash?”

“Like a wart.”

“Wonderful. You can go now,” she jerked her shoulder towards the door, by which they were still loitering.

“Mmm, no, I don’t think I will,” he decided, and began to remove his jacket, though it was a tricky thing to do, since Piglet just snuggled closely to him and wouldn’t budge.

Elain gave an exaggerated sigh and tugged on Azriel’s sleeve, to help him take off his jacket.

“Did my boy really cry?” Azriel asked again, stroking Piglet’s back.

“He did,” she nodded. “He didn’t like seeing you hurt.”

Azriel’s sharp, usually severe, if beautiful face, suddenly melted into a loving smile and he hugged the pug closer to his chest.

“Why is he not looking at me? Is he sad and angry?” he worried.

Elain lightly patted Piglet’s head and said, “No. He is super happy. That’s how he gets when he is very happy. Quiet and still.

“If he was mad, you’d know it,”

“Oh yeah?” Azriel grinned, “What would he do?”

“He’d give you the biggest side eye in history and would not interact, and wouldn’t look at you.” She chuckled to herself and then recalled, “Once, he had an…” she cleared her throat and half whispered, “anal abscess.”

“What. The. Fuck?” Azriel’s mouth fell open.

“Hmmm, yeah,” Elain opened her hands helplessly. “I took him to the vet, and…well…they probed. And they had to go in kinda deep. He was not a fan.”

“I am absolutely not surprised that he wasn’t a fan!” Azriel agreed, trying to stifle his laughter, while stroking Piglet’s back soothingly.

“So they gave him some antibiotics and an ointment and then when I took him home–and mind you, he refused to walk, so I had to carry him for like four miles–he wouldn’t look at me the entire time. When we came home, he went to his bed and wouldn’t move or pay me any heed. As if I was the one who fingered him in the butt.”

“Let me stop you right here, matchmaker,” Azriel raised his hand.

Elain stopped abruptly and looked at him with expectation.

“Nowhere in my life, not since I’ve met you, did I ever expect to hear the words ‘fingered him in the butt’ or ‘anal abscess’ come out of your mouth! This is some kind of parallel universe I am in right now.”

She laughed at that. Then asked,

“Still want to have a dog? Because I had to put the ointment on him. In there.”

Azriel sighed, considering her words, and then nodded decisively.

“Still want him. And you. And I can finger both of your butts, if that’s what it comes to,” he promised.

The expression on Elain’s face told him enough, so that he quickly wrapped his arm around her waist and murmured, “Don’t faint, matchy. It’s okay. I am not offering to do it right this minute. Unless…”

“I will break your other leg!!!” Elain screeched, burying her face in her hands.

He burst out laughing, and then reminded her, “Hey, that’s not fair. I am injured!”

“I will injure you further if you won’t close your awful mouth right this minute!!!”

Azriel was laughing, until he started coughing, whole body wracked by his loud heaving.

Elain sighed dramatically, and said, “come on then, let’s go”. She tugged him into the informal family room, which lay across from the kitchen. It was a nice space–reeking of Elain-like cosiness. A comfortable sectional sofa, without frills, but obviously expensive, and as Azriel sunk into it, exceptionally well-cushioned. He almost crawled into the couchette side of the sofa and lay his head back, exhaling heavily. This was nice. Across from the sofa was a fireplace, with actual logs and an actual fire. The smell was delightful and the warmth substantial. There was a TV, which was turned to some cookery show. A corner was dedicated to built-in bookshelves, and there was a plush armchair there–he figured probably Elain’s favourite corner.

He kept coughing, feeling sweaty, and then suddenly chilled, even next to a roaring fire. Elain was mutely shaking her head, while Pinky licked his neck affably, comforting him.

“Thanks matey,” Azriel whispered, huffing like an asthmatic.

“You are completely totally ill!” Elain was muttering angrily under her breath, as she opened a chest and pulled out a throw. She came over and then pressed her palm to his forehead. Azriel smiled. It was such a tried and true ‘mom move’ and not for the first time he thought of what a wonderful mother she’d make to their children. Not for the first time he imagined her gorgeous curvaceous body carrying life, carrying his seed, morphing into something supple and even more beautiful.

“You are hot!” she declared.

He smirked and winked at her, “I know, baby.”

“No, I mean, you are hot hot,” she tried and he only nodded.

“You don’t need to pay me compliments, but if you insist…”

“Oh lord!” she exclaimed. “You are incorrigible. I am not paying you compliments. You are hot. Your body is hot.”

He only grinned at her, and lightly drew his knuckles over her cheek.

“Don’t worry. You are hot too,” he comforted her. “But you are right–my body is hot. If you’d like to see more of it, with a lot less clothes, you only have to say the words…”

“Mr. Night,” she growled at him, crossing her arms on her chest. “You are not attempting to harass me while you are burning up with a fever, are you?”

“Harass? No. I would call it ‘wooing’,” he told her, his insufferable smile still curving his lips. “But I am also attempting to stop you from constantly calling me Mr. Night. Can we move to Azriel?”

“Absolutely not!” she tucked the throw around him somewhat aggressively. “Also if this is your wooing, then it needs a lot of work!”

“Never had any complaints,” he shrugged.

“I guess the standards in an orgy are pretty low,” she snapped, and Azriel couldn’t help himself and laughed out loud. This girl’s tongue was sharper than a blade. She never failed to answer him and he loved it!

He rubbed his chin and explained,

“Just because I am a gentleman, doesn’t mean that I can’t fuck you like a savage. I am just balanced like that.”

As usual, Elain’s eyes popped open, because the girl squirmed and clutched her pearls at any sexual innuendo. Azriel liked unsettling her, but he also treaded carefully, and didn’t push too far or too hard.

“Are you comfortable?” she asked then, her expression softening just a fraction. Piglet crawled onto Azriel’s torso and made himself comfortable on his chest, tucking his blunt round head under Azriel’s chin. It was a good thing too, because the dog was nice and warm, and a bit heavy. Like a weighted blanket.

“Very,” Azriel assured her, and then brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. She looked down at him and then lightly drew her finger over a lock of his hair. “Thank you. Thank you for everything, Ms. Archeron.”

“You are welcome, Mr. Night. But you should’ve stayed home, in bed, and not exposed yourself to the elements to get here.”

He was quiet for a long time and then quietly, his voice barely audible, said, “What if this is the only home I want to be at?”

Elain sighed and offered him a small smile.

“I will make you a cuppa and,”

“With lemon and sugar,” he added quickly.

“Obviously. And then you can sleep a little.”

“You sure?”

“Well, I am not going to throw you out on the street if that’s what you are asking.”

He patted Piglet’s back and said, “Pink stays here. And I won’t anally violate him,” he gave her a meaningful look, “unlike some people.”

“Oh god, I shouldn’t have told you about that,” Elain lamented and he chuckled, nodding. “Probably not,” he agreed. Then, offering his best puppy eyes he inquired, “no chance of a little kiss?”

“That would be a definitive NO,” she threw sternly. “Besides, you want to give me your illness?”

“Couples who ill together stay together,” he tried.

“We are not a couple, and you are clearly delirious from your cold. Also, people don’t ‘ill’ together!”

Naturally, the moment Piglet senses that Elain was going to the kitchen, he jumped off Azriel and forgot about him, excited at the prospect of a treat.

Azriel sank deeper into the sofa, missing Pinky’s warmth, but Elain’s thoughtful throw kept him from shivering. God, he felt like shite. It’s been a while since he felt this bad, but this was the first time in his life when he didn’t actually mind it. Of course the chills and the chest congestion weren’t his favourite, but he was with his Elain and she was taking care of him, and that was enough.

Piglet was begging loudly, ‘wfff wwww waf fawww’ his voice high pitched and sounding kind of…human. Azriel had read somewhere that a smart dog is mentally equivalent to a two year old child, and now he was seeing that to be true. Being with Pinky was like having a somewhat hyper, perpetually hungry, narcoleptic toddler, who fell asleep in random places with no warning, wanted to play all the time, gave no opportunity for privacy and wanted to be the centre of attention at all times. He also refused to walk whenever he wanted, and sure enough, someone would readily carry him.

“Hold on,” Elain cautioned him, “let me make Az some tea.”

Az.

Az!

Az?

AZzzzz!!!

Azriel perked up on the sofa, listening closely. She actually called him–Az??? That’s what she called him in her head? She thought of him as ‘Az’? Not a lot of people called him that–Cassian, some of his veteran teammates, his cousin Rhys, but that’s about it. And now his girl used his private nickname, which just threw him into a tailspin inside his head.

Wahhwaaa-bark-wahawwf

Pinky responded impatiently.

“Okay, I’ll get you some treats,” Elain decided, her voice quiet, making sure she didn’t disturb Azriel, “but why don’t you run upstairs and bring your baby, so you can share with Az.”

Pinky snorted and Azriel watched him from his spot, as the pug took off down the hallway and then there was some grunting and plops leading up the stairs. Elain meanwhile brought him a cup of tea, with a small plate of lemon and ginger cakes, and a couple of pills.

��Here,” she muttered awkwardly. “It’s very hot.”

Azriel accepted the cup, and smiled at her, “thank you, matchy.”

“Do you ever run out of nicknames?” she wondered, as she sat on the edge of the sofa.

“Usually, yes. For you, no,” he told her, as he sipped his tea. It was perfect–tart from the lemon and sweet from the sugar.

“How’s your leg?” she asked, seeing as he winced when he shifted.

“Ehhh, a little fucked up, but I’ll live. They put a brace on it. That’s why I couldn’t respond to you–I was getting an MRI, and all kinds of X-rays and all that boring shite. Don’t think that I was ignoring you, beautiful.”

“Are you in pain?”

“Are you gonna kiss it all better?” he smirked at her, as he took another sip of his tea.

“Unlikely,” Elain rolled her eyes.

“If your leg was hurt, I’d kiss it better,” he immediately told her with a hurt expression.

“Yeah, I feel like you’d want to kiss more than just my leg,” she scoffed and Azriel shrugged innocently.

“Do you blame me?”

“Take the pills,” she ordered in her no nonsense tone.

“Yes, ma’am,” he obliged. “What are these? Are you gonna roofie me so you can have your way with me?”

“Gah. Why? Seems like you are willing and ready to have your way with me without the roofies!”

“True, true, but,”

At that moment, Piglet trotted back from his lair, his plushy baby in his teeth.

“Did you bring it for daddy?” Elain gushed, realising a second too late what she said and what Azriel heard.

Her face was a mask of horror.

Panicking, she began to mumble, “no, no, I mean…for Az…You brough Puglet for Az, right? For Mr. Night.”

Azriel was chewing the inside of his cheek, trying not to laugh out loud.

Quickly, she turned to him and said, “Mr. Night, this is not what I meant!”

“What did you not mean, Ms. Archeron?”

“I did not mean to call you that.”

“You don’t want me to be your daddy?” he finally let go and burst out laughing. Piglet looked between the two of them with his dark buggy eyes and gave an equivalent of a shrug, as he tossed his baby at Azriel.

“Is that for me?” Azriel took the toy and said, “thank you, baby boy.”

Elain jumped up, clearly grateful for the distraction, and beckoned Piglet after her. “Come on, treat time!” she cried overly-enthusiastically.

“This conversation isn’t over, matchy! I know you’re trying to weasel out of it, but come on ‘daddy’?”

“It was a mistake!!” she called out over her shoulder, while Piglet wiggled his arse, following her back to the kitchen.

“I don’t think so,” Azriel sang back, as he bit into the delicate little cake. This girl sure knew how to bake!

“Can I at least be a baby daddy?!” he requested.

“Ohmygod!” she moaned.

“I’ll make us a couple. Well, four. I’ll make us four.”

“Noooo!”

Waaaff waaaww wah hawww Piglet let himself be known, screeching loudly.

“Okay, you can have a whole banana or a piece of cheese,” Elain offered.

That did not go over well. There was dangerous growling, and demanding yips and pathetic howls. Piglet did not like making choices. He clearly wanted both.

“Ow, stop it…no, you can’t have both,” Elain scolded him, as Azriel listened and laughed. This was everything. This was his life. His best life. He was obsessed.

“The doctor said that you need to be on a diet,” Elain reminded her rowdy dog, who did not care at all. “And look, the banana is bigger, and you can have more of it. And it’s tasty too,” she was convincing him. Whether she was successful, Azriel wasn’t sure.

A couple of minutes later, Piglet arrived back to Azriel’s sofa, holding a banana in his teeth. He wasn’t looking particularly happy, but Azriel picked him up and sat him at his side, breaking small pieces of banana and feeding it to him.

“That’s right, my boy. Daddy, DA-DD-Y,” he yelled obnoxiously, “will feed you. Maybe will sneak some cheese in when ma isn’t looking,”

“Don’t you dare!” Elain warned, “he is supposed to be on a diet. You’ll lose pug privileges.”

“No way!”

…Elain’s voice woke Azriel up from his slumber. Whatever she gave him had knocked him out pretty well. He slept like the dead and even now, he was still out of it. The dog was snoring next to him and Elain was pacing in the kitchen, doing something. But it was her voice that woke him up. She was talking on the phone. He didn't want to eavesdrop but he couldn’t help overhearing what she was saying, especially because her tone was urgent and unhappy.

“Are you serious?” she demanded of whoever was on the other line. “Isn’t that excessive?”

“...Okay, I understand, but five months?”

Azriel moved quietly on the sofa, tugging the throw to his chin, feeling like he would never be able to move from here ever again, yet the fact that his girl was clearly displeased with some motherfucker made him want to fight.

Whoever she was talking to went on some long rant, while she listened patiently.

“Okay, I get it,” she said at last, her tone clipped, “but really? My birthday? Christmas?”

More talking.

“Eris–I am sorry to tell you, but this is what people do for each other!! Even when it’s inconvenient! Did I love flying to Beijing for 11 hours? Just so I can spend a week in the hotel room, when you didn’t make any time to be with me? To even show me around the city,”

“I don’t care that you had meetings! I flew there, to be with you. I left Piglet and my clients, just to see you, and,”

“Yes! He does matter to me. He is my dog, and I,”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I don’t love him more than you! But I am beginning to wonder if you love your high-flying job more than me?!”

“That’s a lot of words, but I don’t see any action,” she snapped. “I am not asking you to do anything unreasonable! You can come here, spend my birthday with me, then it’s going to be Christmas–”

“Okay, so what if it’s Feyre’s birthday too? It’s not going to interfere with any of our plans. Also, she is my sister. She is turning 25. I think I am allowed to be with my sisters on that day. Though no one said that you weren’t invited,”

“Well, I am sorry you don’t feel comfortable in the bohemian crowd! You don’t have to come, if it’s such a burden to you, but you can’t expect me to miss her birthday. Besides, we will be going out to a restaurant…”

“Moroccan”

“I am sure you can find something to eat there! It’s basic food–meat and rice pilaf and salads!”

“No, not Ethiopian–it’s Moroccan. No, it’s not going to give you diarrhoea!!!”

Azriel stifled a laugh at that. Poor Elain. Also, this Eris bloke didn’t know the difference between Ethiopia and Morocco.

“Fine. You don’t like kabobs. Whatever.”

Who the fuck didn’t like kabobs? They were delicious! Azriel thought.

After a long pause, where he assumed Elain was listening to the man, she said with a sigh,

“So you are certain? You won’t be coming for Christmas?”

“Okay. I can’t make you. But I will also tell you this–I won’t be Penelope,”

Who the heck was Penelope?

“Look it up!” Elain snarled.

Apparently Eris also didn’t know who Penelope was.

Azriel discreetly reached into his pocket and took out his phone, before Googling ‘Penelope’. No, not Cruz.

“Penelope, wife of Odysseus, Queen of Ithaca… She waited twenty years for Odysseus' return…”

Oh. Well, then.

Meanwhile, Elain said icily,

“No, I don’t think that I am being unreasonable. If I want my so-called boyfriend to come home to England for my birthday, and for Christmas and New Year’s, instead of staying in freakin’ China, then no, it doesn’t make me unreasonable. It’s entirely up to you what you do, I’ve said my piece.”

“Forgive me, Eris, if I find it hard to believe that you’ve been faithful to me for five months…and the four months before…”

“Whatever you say. Goodbye. Sure. We’ll talk later…Sure. When I cool off.”

Azriel wanted to say something. He wanted to comfort her, but he didn’t feel right infringing on her private life. He assumed that Eris was the ginger bloke. Stupid, for leaving his woman like that. Unattended and unsatisfied. Azriel wouldn’t make the same mistake.

He’d never leave Elain.

The next time Azriel woke up was when it was dusk. The world outside was coloured in greys and blues and purples. It was pretty–the foggy, ethereal beauty of London in the waning light of day.

His ridiculous dog was still snoring, unbothered. This time though, he was on his back though, his three paws high up in the air. Azriel wished he could snap a pic, but…his arms were occupied. His whole body was occupied. In the best possible way. His woman was sleeping on top of him.

He looked down. She was half-sprawled on top of his body, her leg tucked between his own, her cheek resting on his chest. Goodness…A beautiful woman. Not an attractive sleeper. Azriel smiled softly. Beautiful to him. Always. But, her hair was in disarray, her mouth open, and she was drooling on his shirt. What a far cry from Miss Priss in her pearl necklace. She was hugging him more sexually than he expected, and half of her ass was hanging out from her shorts. A big hunk of gorgeous fleshy butt.

Now, if Azriel was a proper bloke, with manners and a good head on his shoulders, he would've considered feelings, consent, appropriateness, and many other trendy things that were so en vogue these days. But he was lad from the council estate and didn’t rub shoulders with Lord Darling nearly long enough to have become a genteel gentleman. Therefore, he saw an ass, and he took it. In his defence, this was the best, most luxurious, prettiest, juiciest ass in existence. The best ass. His favourite ass. And his scarred, mangled hand couldn’t help itself and slipped down her back and cupped the bare perfection of her lush ass cheek. He didn’t squeeze, not wanting to wake her up, but he caressed her gently, while luxuriating in their closeness. She came to him. Following her obviously unpleasant conversation with that Eris bloke, Elain sought comfort with Azriel. She could’ve gone upstairs, could’ve done something private and personal, and licked her wounds on her own. But she came to him. She trusted him enough to splay herself atop of his body and now peacefully drool on his chest.

He couldn’t believe his luck.

Truly.

His girl finally thawed her icy little heart. Or maybe, her heart was always warm and loving, and beating like a fluttering bird, hoping that it wouldn’t be broken. He wouldn’t. He’d protect it with everything he got.

Elain shifted and he stilled, wondering if she was waking up and whether he was now obligated to remove his hand from the warm globe of her ass. He didn’t really want to. He found himself a girl who blushed like a virgin and hid her face in her hands when he said filthy things. Yet, he wondered if this same girl would suck his cock like his cum was oxygen and she needed it to survive.

He hoped so.

“Did you dedicate the goal to me?” Elain asked suddenly, but softly, without opening her eyes.

She startled him, but he answered,

“I did.”

“Was the ‘E’ for me?”

“You are the only ‘E’ in my life,” he clarified.

“Okay. Thank you. It was the most beautiful goal I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you.”

“Is your hand on my arse?”

“It is.”

“Why?”

“Where else would it be when I have your bare butt showing and you are almost dry humping me?”

“Ohmygod, I am NOT,” she began arguing, but he just squeezed her soft butt cheek, digging his fingers into the delicate flesh.

“Shush, woman. Just stay there for a sec. Enjoy the moment.”

And to his utmost surprise, she obeyed. She didn’t move. She just lay there, and he stroked her head with his other hand.

Awawawawa wufff whaha

“And…he is up,” Azriel muttered, watching Pinky flop over and start talking at once.

“I have to take him out,” Elain said, reaching her hand to stroke the pug’s head.

“I’ll come with you,” Azriel told her.

“Are you sure? How do you feel?”

“Much better, actually, and I’ll have to protect you, you know.”

“I already have one to protect me–he thinks everyone is a serial killer. Serial killer neighbours. Serial killer post men. Serial killer squirrels. The butcher–he isn’t a serial killer. But everyone else–potential killer.”

“I respect his dark worldview. Everyone is a serial killer until they are not. Guilty until proven innocent.”

Elain rose awkwardly, because Azriel refused to remove his hand from her ass.

“You sure you don’t want to take me for a ride, beautiful?�� he suggested.

“You are not at your best,” she raised her brow at him.

“My mediocre is most men’s ‘exceptional’,” he argued humbly.

“Your modesty knows no bounds,” she noted, as she finally got up.

“It smells amazing here, by the way,” Azriel commented, as he sat up on the sofa. He was feeling markedly better. The fever was gone.

“It’s dinner.”

And before he could say anything, she added, “Yes, yes you’re invited.”

“Well, that’s excellent. Maybe a sponge bath afterwards? In case I am back to having a raging fever?”

Elain scoffed and said, “Not sure how good Piglet is at giving sponge baths, but you two can work it out between the two of you. He likes a good bath.”

“Good idea,” Azriel decided, “I’ll discuss it with him.”

Elain went upstairs to change and it struck him how domestic they were together. He guessed that this was ‘family’. Them taking a nap together, dinner cooking on the stove, his woman upstairs, dressing in his presence, not at all perturbed by him being in the house, Pinky…well, Pinky was now running around and hiding from Elain, who came downstairs wearing jeans and holding some kind of onesie for him.

“Piglet, you need to wear it! It’s very cold outside. You’ll freeze!” she tried to reason with him, while he galloped between the kitchen and the lounge, dodging her and sliding under chairs and tables, until he was crawling along the kitchen counter, thinking that they couldn't see him.

Azriel put his finger to his lips, gesturing for Elain to keep distracting him, while he tiptoed closer.

“Piglet, where are you?” Elain called out, pretending like she couldn’t find him. “Come on! We got to go potty.”

Just then, Azriel made one of his ‘elite athlete’ moves and managed to grab the dog. Piglet wailed in disbelief, having thought that he was so stealthy and amazing with his evasion techniques.

“Come on, matchy, go for the kill!” he encouraged, while Elain thrust the coat on Piglet, who gave up his struggle pretty quickly, and compliantly got himself bundled up. On top of the coat, he also had to wear a hat with ear cutouts and which was tied under his chin.

“Jesus Christ,” Azriel chuckled. “He is like a smothered baby.” He set the dog down, and went to get his own coat.

“You feeling broody, beautiful?”

He held her jacket to her and she snorted, as she threaded her arms into the sleeves.

“And you are volunteering to relieve me of said broodiness, I reckon?”

He shrugged, “I’ve got all the equipment in working order.”

“So you keep telling me,”

“You still haven’t checked,” he noted and zipped her up.

Then he wrapped a scarf around his neck and said, “Your scarf, baby. Sorry I haven’t given it back to you. I love it, you know,”

“Keep it,” she suggested. “I want you to be warm.”

The moment they exited the townhome, Azriel draped his arm around Elain’s shoulders and pulled her closer. The street was quiet, but Piglet guided them where he wanted to go, and that was towards people, pubs and restaurants. Azriel limped noticeably and Elain worried about him, hoping that he was okay to walk, but thankfully, Piglet wasn’t in the mood to hurry and moved at a leisurely pace himself. He also found a stick, which he immediately brought to Elain, while Azriel murmured, “Yeah. Sticks, man. Bitches love sticks!”

“You are crazy,” Elain laughed.

“I am crazy? I am not the one standing in the middle of the street holding a stick, a limpy boyfriend and a dog in a knit hat.”

“Yeah, the only problem in this scenario seems to be the limpy ‘boyfriend’,” she made quotation marks with her fingers.

“No, that’s the only thing that makes sense in this equation, beautiful.”

Then Piglet decided that he wanted the stick back, so Elain gave it to him and he trotted along happily holding it in his teeth,

They walked slowly, Elain deep in thought. Azriel didn’t bother her, until he asked,

“Why are you fighting this?”

She glanced up at him and frowned with incomprehension,

“Fighting what exactly?”

“This.” He said firmly. “Us.”

“Us?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, his usually relaxed, playful tone gone. “This, Elain. Yes, Elain. Not Ms. Archeron. Not ‘beautiful’. Not matchmaker. Elain. And I am asking Elain as to why you insist on fighting this?”

“I am not,” she began.

“Every step of the way, you are. You ought to understand that this is it?!”

“What is?” she asked softly, her eyes luminous and full of questions.

“Us, Elain. You can’t be that thick not to understand that this,” and he waved his hand between the two of them, “is something special. This thing that we have going on, despite all the laughs and teasing, it’s something…” he paused. “I ain’t gonna scare you, Elain,” he promised, “but I ain’t gonna leave you alone either. That’s a vow,”

“And if I wanted you to?”

“That’s the thing. You don’t want me to. You want me, just like I want you. And I don’t know why you can’t just admit it?”

She sighed and said quietly,

“Men have hurt me. I’ve not been with many. I’ve had three boyfriends–one in school, the next one, Graysen, was in uni. And I loved him. Really, really loved him, and we got engaged, and then he cheated on me with my neighbour, Clare. And many others, as I found out later. I broke the engagement. It was all hush-hush, to avoid scandal because both of our families are prominent and scandal is a no-no.”

“And now it’s this bloke Eris?”

“How do you know?!”

“I know. What’s he?”

“Lord Eris, Earl Vanserra.”

Azriel rolled his eyes, shaking his head, his jowls ticking.

“Of course. Earl…Is this what it’s about? I am too low born? I know…I know you fucking have a title. What is it?”

“I am just a Lady,” she mumbled.

“You ain’t just a Lady. What are you?” he demanded. “A Duchess?”

“Nesta is the Duchess,” Elain said softly. “She is the eldest daughter, the title is hers. I am a…Marchioness.”

“So that’s it? Is this a class thing? Is that why you won’t give me a chance?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

“Am I?” he snapped.

“You are. It has nothing to do with any titles!”

“Then what? Explain it to me.”

She sighed and twisted her fingers,

“I feel like I haven’t done my job. I haven’t found you anyone. And I…”

“That’s what it’s about?!” he exclaimed incredulously.

“I don’t know…Yes. But also other things. Eris,”

“Eris is a fuck up who doesn’t care about you,” Azriel snapped roughly.

“Perhaps,” she sighed sadly. “I am beginning to see it now,”

“What else? You better tell me everything, because like I said, I am not leaving. I am not walking away from this.”

“Can you give me something?” she requested.

“Anything. What do you want?”

“A little time. To understand everything myself. I’ve never felt like this…I’ve never been swept away by a man. I find you…exciting. Interesting. You are so different from everyone I’ve ever met. You are raw and honest. There is a decency about you that’s so uncommon nowadays. You are brutal and chivalrous at once. I feel like you can beat someone to death, yet you hold the doors and you help me with my coat,”

“I can beat someone to death,” he assured her.

“I know. I can sense it. There is a wild, untamed beast prowling under your skin. I love it. I love how you make me feel–how I am free with you, and you just accept me. You accept me and Piglet, and I know that some view me as odd, because I am devoted to him. I am the weird lady with the pug and the pearls,”

Azriel smiled.

“That you are, beautiful. But that’s what I love about you. You are unapologetically yourself, and you love your ornery pug and you know who you are. I’ve also never met anyone like you–because most of the women I see around are either gold diggers or rather vacuous individuals obsessed with their looks and handbags.

“Everything about you is strange, Elain. Your job is strange. Your manner is strange. Your dress is strange. You are a girl from the past, who is also thoroughly modern. I don’t know what to make of you, but I know that I love it. I adore it all.”

They stopped in the middle of the street, while Piglet ambled aimlessly around their legs and Elain asked, her voice trembling with nerves,

“You like me?”

Azriel smiled at her and nodded.

“I do.”

“Even if I am weird?”

“Even then. I especially love that you are unique. Not weird. You are my Elain,” he cupped her cheek in his scarred hand. “You are one of a kind. And there is no one else I’d rather spend my perfect day with than you.”

“What is your perfect day?” she breathed, her eyes wet with tears. He brushed his thumb over her lashes and said,

“I’ll tell you one day, matchy. Or better yet, show you. It may or may not include an apple crisp with custard,”

“Oh yeah! I am excited.”

“You and Pinky are alike. Easily swayed by food,” he chuckled.

“Let’s go eat dinner then,” she pulled him to her.

“Let’s go then.”

Chicken and rice. Oh yeah. This was Piglet’s favourite meal. Well, his most MOST favourite was meatloaf. When Elain made meatloaf, it was the best day ever. But for that, Piglet had to be very, very good. He couldn’t make trouble, wake up in the middle of the night and alert Elain to a serial killer in the bushes, couldn’t steal anything from the kitchen, had to go potty on time, not tear up his chewies, and not lose his baby, so that Elain didn’t have to look for it everywhere. Meatloaf came with many conditions, and sometimes, it was worth it.

But chicken and rice was the next best thing. Piglet got two chicken feet, three necks, and a bunch of giblets, which was del-ici-ous.

Though while his dinner was making Piglet very happy, what made him ever happier, kind of giddy actually, which resulted in him stopping mid-meal and expelling a loud gagging wail of happiness, which made mom and dad stop eating and watch him warily, was that dad was now here, eating dinner with them, and he wasn’t gonna leave.

Yeah, Piglet knew that dad was here to stay. And that made him even happier than meatloaf.

“Is he…okay?” Azriel asked unsure.

Elain was stifling a laugh, as Piglet roared like a bear over his bowl.

“That’s him being extra happy,” she explained.

“What spurned this on?”

“Chicken and rice, I suppose,” Elain shrugged. “He loves it.”

Suddenly, Azriel leaned back in his chair, gripped the table and roared loudly, startling both Piglet and Elain. Piglet stared at him, until a piece of chicken fell out of his mouth, buggy eyes jumping from Azriel to Elain. When Azriel didn’t stop roaring, Piglet joined him and howled wildly.

“You two nutters!” Elain cried out, laughing and covering her ears. “Stop it! Look at the state of the two of you!”

“We both love chicken and rice!” Azriel howled.

And yes, Azriel really did love the incredible, flavourful and meltingly unctuous chicken soup that Elain served for dinner, but then they had buttered rice with herbs and chicken with ginger and garlic and it was the best thing that he’s ever eaten. Bar none. The soup melted over his bones, over his lungs, filling his chest with warmth and nutrition.

“I must tell you something, Ms. Archeron,” he decided, once the roaring and the howling was done, and Piglet resumed his munching.

“And that is what, Mr. Night?”

“Sleeping with you and eating your food, made by your lovely hands is the only panacea that I need in my life. Therefore, as you can understand, I can no longer leave you, because otherwise, I will wither from illness and die,” he concluded dramatically.

Elain clutched her chest and exclaimed, “oh, the exquisite drama of it all!”

“I should think so.”

“You’ll be fine,” she told him firmly.

“I will be. With you,” he agreed, and poured both of them more wine. “Thank you. For this,” he added sincerely. “Amazing dinner. Truly.”

“It's just chicken soup,” Elain shrugged, but she blushed and he knew that she liked the compliment.

“When is your birthday?” he asked suddenly.

She frowned and said, “December 23.”

“Oh, right before Christmas,”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Not only that, but Feyre’s in on the 21st. The 21st is the Winter Solstice, so naturally, every year, Feyre suddenly turns into a pagan goddess and starts to celebrate with gusto, saying how she was born on the longest night of the year.

“And then it’s Christmas a week later, so normally, no one cares about my birthday. My sisters will ring me up, sometimes we’ll go for drinks, and that’s about it. Dad sends money,”

Azriel smiled at that, “that’s a dad move”.

“Yeah, fifty quid without fail. Every year. In a card. Pretty sure his secretary is the one responsible for sending it.”

“So, do you need a date for Feyre’s birthday then?” he inquired boldly.

Elain shook her head in disbelief,

“So you are inviting yourself?”

“Actually, I am inviting Rhys,”

“Oh, so you are bringing yourself AND your cousin to someone’s birthday?”

“Maybe Cass too,” Azriel shrugged.

“Oh, so it’s a Night brothers shindig then?”

“Yeah, we know how to party.”

“No doubt.”

“So then? Yeah. I am your date?” he pressed.

“I mean, do I even have a choice at this point?”

“Not really.”

“Seems like it.”

Azriel finished up his meal and looked outside the window. He folded his hands on his stomach, relaxing back in the chair.

“It’s late,” he said vaguely.

“It’s not even eight yet,” Elain commented, drawing her finger over the rim of the glass.

“Yeah. Late.”

“O-kay.”

“See, Pink is already asleep,” he motioned towards the dog, who was sprawled on the carpet, looking like a giant loaf, snoring peacefully.

“That’s just his after-dinner nap. He does that a lot.”

“Yeah…So I am thinking,” Azriel began and Elain tensed, looking at him apprehensively. He tsked and said, “I think I should stay over. Tonight. With my fever and all. Wouldn’t make sense to take a turn for the worse after making so much progress…Besides,” he gave a hammy exaggerated wince, “my leg hurts a lot.”

Elain crossed her arms on her chair, watching this piss poor performance.

“Is that so?”

“Yes! It’s all pretty dire, if I am being honest.”

“So dire that you are unable to call for an Uber or even your driver?”

“Dev has a hot date. Wouldn't be right to bother him. And Ubers are so…impersonal.”

“Are you just sitting in front of me, lying through your teeth?” she asked with a sigh.

“Maybe.”

“What do you want, Mr. Night?”

“I would like to spend the night, Ms. Archeron.”

#elriel #pro elriel #elain archeron #azriel and elain #azriel #elain x azriel #elain #A Match Baked In Heaven #My Writing #Elriel Fanfiction #Elriel fanfic #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #New chapter #modern au

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 11 months

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i'm outta my head over you Pt. 7

prologue (Pt. 1) | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 5 | Pt. 6 | AO3 | playlist

this is the last chap of my steddie week fic!! i have a little blurb i may do for tomorrow's open ended prompt, but for now, here's the last @steddie-week prompt: misunderstandings

Robin stops him as they’re herding the gremlins into their respective vehicles. You’d think that after nearly five hours of spending the four barely adults’ money would be enough time at the arcade. But no. They’re all fighting them on leaving. As if they all won’t be asleep by the time they get home.

“Once you get it done, you may want to get up early.”

“Uh..what?”

“Steve always goes for a run at like ass o’clock in the morning.” she’s speaking low and fast to try and not draw attention to them, but their normal level of volume with one another is normally 100 times louder than this, so she’s really doing the exact opposite. “If you get up early enough, you can leave it for him while he’s gone.”

“Okayokay, I got it! Now stop making this weird.”

She looks around to find Steve already staring at the two of them questioningly.

“Oh shit… OKAY, YEAH, GOOD LUCK WITH YOUR DATE EDDIE.” she practically yells.

“What the hell, Robin? I don’t have a date!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure it’ll be great!” she’s walking away already, shrugging like even she doesn’t know why the fuck she said that. “Call me when you’re home!”

Eddie smacks his palm against his forehead and turns to his van, not even daring to look at Steve again.

He finally does dare once he’s in his van and has started moving, giving Steve a ‘nothing wrong or weird here’ wave as he pulls away.

The expression on Steve’s face is indiscernible. Somewhere stuck between totally blank, and the most devastated look he’s ever seen.

Damnit, Robin.

He only ended up with Max in his van on the way back, so when they get back, he helps her inside, and resigns himself to staying up all night to finish the tape.

He pulls in next to Wayne’s truck at the same time his uncle is coming out the front door, a dufflebag in hand.

“You off to work early old man?” and he asks as he gets out of his van, it’s only about 9 PM now and his uncle doesn’t usually go in until near midnight.

“Yep, gettin’ some dinner with the fellas before we head in. Gotta leave shift early to go visit yer aunt.”

Ah. “That time of year is it?”

“Yep, I’ll see ya tomorrow evenin’, son. Don’t be getting into any trouble, y’hear?”

Eddie just shrugs. “You know me.”

“That’s exactly my point.” Wayne says with a crinkly smirk.

He gives his uncle a short hug, and Wayne kisses the top of his head with another ‘be safe’.

Then, because he’s agonizing about it, Eddie spends the next couple hours cleaning the trailer instead of picking the last two songs that will go on his side (listening to said tape while he does).

He’s still got some ideas from before, but only a couple good ones..and not all of them will fit in the time he’s estimated is left on the B side.

It isn’t until he gets to Be My Baby on his second listen through that he knows which one he’s going to add next.

After he’s got that one figured out and recorded, there definitely isn’t enough room left for the rest of the picks, so he adds the one he thinks says the most about how he feels about Steve, the one that says everything he needs to say.

-----

“Robin did say ‘ass o’clock’,” Eddie says to himself, glancing at the clock in his dashboard.

5:13. Yeah, that sounds right.

Eddie lets out a huge cracking yawn. Okay, he’s definitely gonna crash once he gets back to the trailer. He was so wired after finally finishing the tape, he couldn’t sleep even though he wanted to.

He makes it to Steve's street and parks up the road a bit (not wanting the rattle of his van to alert Steve to his presence if he hadn’t left yet), and walks the last leg. The tape in his pocket feels like it weighs a million pounds.

When he finally rounds the bushes at the front edge of Steve’s yard, Eddie feels every cell in his body seize up at once.

Nancy’s car is in the driveway.

What the–

Suddenly, the front door opens. He dives back behind the bushes, peeking through the leaves. You know, like a sane person?

Why the fuck is Nancy leaving Steve's house so early

Why is Steve only wearing those tiny fuckin’ shorts?

Oh no..

Oh shit.

There’s only one fucking reason

This is all wrong! Nancy knows he has feelings for Steve, was that not what that was at the arcade?

She’s with Robin, she didn’t refute it.

Oh fuck, he’s gonna have to tell Robin.

Eddie debates making himself known, let himself barrel over whatever awkwardness may arise, but he’s still got his heart in his pocket, addressed to Steve.. What’s he supposed to do with that then?

“Oh hey Steve, didn’t see you there! Just came by to drop off your very personal property that your best friend stole for me to defile! Nancy? Oh hey, you’re here! What’s up with tha–”

He’s startled out of his thoughts when the door of Nancy's station wagon shuts, the engine turning over.

She pulls out, thankfully heading away from where he’s hidden.

Eddie watches until she’s out of sight, then jumps again when he hears Steve’s front door close.

Steve does a few hops in place from foot to foot on his front stoop (still shirtless), and starts off on his run the same way Nancy had gone. Had he been able to see shirtless, sweaty Steve whenever he wanted?? He just goes for runs like this every day? Why had no one told him??

‘Oh fuckin’ hell, shut up, shutup!!’ He yells at himself.

Now what?

Eddie sits in the grass in Steve Harrington’s front yard and stares at the back of his mailbox.

Does he still leave the tape? Of course he should, it is Steve’s tape afterall.

But what about the songs? Steve’s not gonna want his bullshit now…

He could go back to his van and re-write the note then come back and leave it. No, he wouldn’t have time now, Steve’s athletic, yeah, but Eddie’s been frozen in his front yard for a while now. He’d be back soon.

Fuck it.

He’ll drop the tape on the front step, go back home and pack up his shit. Yeah. Good a time as any to get the fuck outta here.

Confessing your feelings to one of your closest friends who very obviously just got back together with his ex not even ten hours after you’d seen him and were very obviously flirting with each other?

Yeah. Not ideal.

Does he have the funds to get the fuck outta here? No. But he’s got enough for gas and he’s got a van. He’ll just load his mattress into the back and be gone before the rest of the town fully wakes up.

Good plan, Eddie’s brain. Thank you, rest of Eddie.

-------

Steve slows to a jog once he can see his house, cooling down from his run on the last little bit of his road, and stopping in his driveway to do some stretches back to the door.

He’s sinking down into his last lunge when he sees the little square of…something…sitting on the front step.

“The hell?”

He stoops down and picks it up, turns it over. There’s a piece of lined paper rubber banded around it.

Peeling off the band, Steve steps inside and unfolds the letter, leaning back on the now closed front door to read

“...oh no…” Steve looks down at the case in his hand. Now he sees why the rubberband was necessary, there’s another folded wad of papers shoved into the cassette’s case, now popped open without the band holding it together.

His heart, previously calmed down from his run, now beat wildly in his chest as he unfurls the short stack of paper.

He reads the first line, ‘8. I Was Made For Lovin’ You...’

“Holy shit.”

Steve books it up the stairs, he’s gotta get showered, he’s gotta get changed, he’s got one more song to add to the tape.

-------

Eddie’s just finished packing up his clothes when his alarm clock radio goes off, the 7am alarm still set for when he has to get up for school.

“...still don’t believe it, he was just leaving OH there must be some misunderstanding! There must be some kind of mistake…” blasts through the tinny speakers.

Nopenopenope, not dealing with that right now.

He slaps the clock around until it finally shuts off its maniacal teasing, and goes back to packing (and blinking away some wayward tears).

He’s just dropped the second bag of clothes and his sweetheart in her case by the front door and is contemplating if his mattress would actually fit in the back of his van, when there’s a knock on the door.

Eddie’s gut freezes mid-flip.

Oh no. Please n–

“Eddie, are you there? It’s Steve. Can I come in?”

‘Don’t move. Don’t make a single sound. Maybe he’ll think you’re not home and just leave.’

“C’mon man, I know you’re in there. You’re van’s out here.”

“Shit.”

Eddie trudges his way to the front door and opens it.

Even with floppy, just-washed, hair and an inside-out polo, Steve’s still the most beautiful person in existence.

“What do you want, Steve?” Wow. Even he’s surprised at how morose he sounds.

“I uh, I got your tape..my tape? I got your note. I added one more song and I thought, maybe, I could–” Steve looks down. “Are you..” his voice pitches high so he clears it. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Mhm.” Eddie can’t look him in the eye. He stares at the porch.

“Where are you–”

“Just going, ‘kay Steve? No need to worry about me being around anymore.” Eddie practically spits, still not looking up at his friend.

“Eddie, what are you–” he cuts himself off, his voice going soft. “Did you not mean what you said?”

That makes Eddie look up at him. Steve’s gaze is now cast downwards, staring blankly at Eddie’s packed bags.

“...I meant every word. Every song, Steve. But that doesn’t matter now, does it?” he’s truly mad now, who does he think he is, trying to act all glum like he wasn’t the one betraying his best friend.

“B-betraying my best–Eddie, what the hell are you talking about?”

Damn! He said that out loud.

“Just go away, Steve. I won’t tell Robin, but you definitely should.” Eddie moves to close the front door and turns back towards his room. He doesn’t hear it close, but he hears the creak of the floor when Steve follows him in.

Of. Course.

“Tell Robin what, Eddie? I already told her how I felt about you, that’s why she stole you the tape in the first plac–”

“Not that! You–” Eddie clenches his fists at his sides and spins back to face Steve. “That you hooked up with her girlfriend last night.” Steve’s face pales and Eddie continues on. “Yeah. I came by to drop off your tape; Robin thought I could leave it there when you left for your run. But lo and behold, what do I see when I come by? Nancy Wheeler’s car in your driveway at ass o’clock in the morning.

“Now, I may be a third time senior, but even I know what the fuck that means. Especially when, not long after I’ve gotten there, the Lady Wheeler herself waltzes out the door with Tiny Shorts McGee following her like a lost puppy.” he gestures at Steve, who’s still frozen in place by the door.

“So yeah, you can just burn those notes for all I care, I don’t even know why I still left it. Whatever. I’m leaving today anyway so you don’t need to worry about me pining hopelessly after you, ‘kay?”

Eddie’s chest is heaving, his eyes are burning with unshed tears, and Steve…starts laughing.

“I fuckin’ knew it!” There are tears spilling freely out of his eyes now. “You’re really good y’know, had everyone fooled. Even me! King Steve is alive and well, everyone!” Eddie spreads his hands wide and yells to no one.” I can’t believe you got me to fall for your good guy schtick. Get the fuck outta my house, Harrington.” Eddie points to the door, stalking forward.

“Eddie! Eddie, wait, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed.” Steve puts his hands out and Eddie stops, crossing his arms and glaring. “Eddie, please, Nancy was only dropping something off for me.”

“Yeah righ–”

“She was! She came by that early because she’s driving to an interview this morning at a paper in Indy. She knew I’d be up for my run anyway, so she stopped to give me the revisions she made to my–you know what, hold on. I’m calling Robin.”

“Steve, I told you to get the fuck out of my house, not go further into it.”

Steve ignores him and goes to the phone, giving Eddie as wide of a berth as he can while he passes. He picks it up and dials.

“I’m not fucking kidding, Harrington, get the fuck out of here–” Eddie’s anger is multiplied tenfold when Steve holds out a finger to shush him.

“Hi Mr. Buckley, this is Steve. I’m sorry to call so early, but can I please speak to Robin? There was a last minute change to our schedule…thank you.’

Eddie watches Steve’s face morph from his customer service expression, to an admittedly frightening pissed off smile when Robin apparently gets on the line.

“Hey Robin! I found my Eddie tape! It’s the funniest thing, I came back from my run and it was sitting on my doorstep.”

Eddie can hear the muffled sound of Robin’s voice coming through the earpiece.

“I know, isn’t that crazy?” Damn, Steve’s passive aggressive voice is…something else. “He must’ve dropped it off while I was gone..why wouldn’t he give it to me in person?”

Steve waves at Eddie to come closer, and when he stubbornly doesn’t, Steve rolls his eyes and comes to him, stretching the cord across the kitchen as he does.

“Hmmm...maybe.. Or maybe something scared him off?” He takes in an over-dramatic sarcastic gasp. “Or maybe, my best friend and soulmate who stole the tape for him, told him to come by at the exact worst time! When she knew a certain ex of mine and current girlfriend of hers was stopping by before leaving to Indy and it scared him off!”

Steve tilts the handset out from his ear so Eddie can hear..there’s complete silence on the other end.

“That would suck, don't you think? Seeing your crush’s ex leaving their house early in the morning when you’re coming over to confess to them?” He continues.

“Oh. My. God. Steve!! I am so so sorry I–”

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to Eddie.”

Steve grabs up Eddie’s hand and wraps it around the handset, forcing him to take it, then stomps off into the living room.

Eddie puts the phone to his ear and walks back to the receiver, Robin rambling in his ear the whole way.

“--ddie, I’m so so sorry! I totally forgot Nancy was dropping off Steve’s paper this morning before she went to her interview! Please please don’t be mad at me, actually, scratch that. Be super mad at me, but definitely not at Steve, okay? I should have remembered, I should have told you, I should hav–”

It’s effective, he feels the anger draining out of him. “Robin, Robin! It’s okay, you’re okay.” Eddie glances over at Steve, who’s pacing up and down the short length of the trailer’s living room. “But now I have a very pissed off Harrington in my house right now…you got any survival tips for me?” he mumbles lowly.

“...Oh! I know, just go over there and kiss hi–her–stupid!” Eddie snorts through his nose, her parents must still be nearby.

“Got it, I’ll try that. Thanks Birdie…for everything.”

She sighs in relief. “You’re welcome, Doofus.”

Eddie slowly hangs up the phone, and turns to where Steve is. Now stationary, he’s got one hand on his hip, and the other is rifling through his hair nervously.

‘Yep. Buckley’s right.’

Eddie takes a deep breath and crosses to Steve in three short strides, grabs his face in both his hands, and kisses him deeply.

Steve responds immediately; he wraps one arm around Eddie’s waist, his large palm centered squarely on his lower back, and one around his arm, lacing his fingers into Eddie’s curls and cupping the back of his head.

Steve pulls their bodies flush and cants his hips into Eddie’s, tugs a breathy moan from Eddie’s throat when the hand in his curls tightens.

Eddie’s nose is pressed uncomfortably into the space between Steve’s nose and cheekbone with how close they’ve smushed themselves together, but Eddie can’t find it in himself to care.

He’s kissing Steve Harrington.

There’s a strong thigh slotted between his, and Steve Harrington is kissing him back.

Eddie moves one hand down to clutch at Steve’s shirt, and pushes the other back, grabbing onto those short hairs on the back of Steve’s neck.

They finally come up for air after one too many teeth clashes, their foreheads coming together.

“Hi.” they breathe out at the same time, chuckling at the absurdity of it all.

“We’re kinda idiots, huh?” Steve says, looking cross-eyed between Eddie’s eyes. The hazel of his eyes sparkling with the movement.

Eddie chuckles. “Dingus and Doofus, remember?” he points to each of them in turn, only lifting his pointer finger out of the grip on Steve’s shirt to do so.

“Can I play you the last song now?”

and then they low dance in eddie's living room

Yay!! that's it, thanks for following along with this one!!! here's the last tags :o) @hellomynameismoo, @messrs-weasley, @manda-panda-monium

Here's some notes since it's the last part:

this is the most I’ve ever written in such a short time, I literally wrote each of these chapters the day before their day to be posted….most of it while at work lmao

Steve used a Sony C60 tape. i.e. there’s 60-ish minutes of space on it. before At Last, the songs on the tape totaled 55 min 55 seconds, a perfect amount left for Etta James (ending up at 58 min 54 seconds in total according to my spoofy playlist).

I know that the Eddie half of songs weren’t really…’Eddie music’, but in my head, Eddie likes music for being music. All music is good (like he said to Max in part 5). Plus, he wanted to put songs on the tape that he knew Steve would like/want to listen to.

steve asked nancy to make revisions on his nursing school application essay (he found he quite liked the process of taking care of eddie and wants to go to school for it!)

anyone else just recently realize that Take Me Home Tonight had an allusion to Be My Baby?? anyway, love that, wanted to make that a thing here :o)

and lastly, a couple of little things i LOVED about this fic that i didn’t see anyone else / only a couple people point out:

Steve singing the rubber duckie song to Eddie in part 5

Eddie literally giving Gareth the shirt off his back in part 2 when Tommy threw his pop on him (in my head, this is the same red buffalo check flannel that Gareth ends up cutting the sleeves off of and wears in S4).

that's all!! thanks for reading, friends :o)

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #st #st fic #steddie week #steddie week 2023 #steve harrington x eddie munson #mixtape #songfic #(kinda)#robin buckley #nancy wheeler #wayne munson #the party #stranger things #idiots in love #noelle writes

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hypocriticaltypwriter · 2 months

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Hey fellas! The weather is intense while driving from Wyoming right now, the roads are so bad I've almost been hit/back ended twice. You can't see two feet in front of you in any of this. I'm not gonna lie it's a little scary so if yall can wish me and my family good luck and some prayers I'd really appreciate it! We've got a baby with us and hope we can push it this final hour. I'll let you guys know once we're all home safe!

#cherry rambles #weather

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sweaterkittensahoy · 2 months

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Taking prompts, eh?! Let's see....Bucky on a sports team of some kind and Buck shows up without fail to support his man without any knowledge of the game whatsoever, and everyone just thinks it's the cutest thing ever 😂

(No queerphobia here; just boys being boys and accepting of people in love; Buck's a captain here on purpose because they're in some nebulous point in training. That's right: No queer-phobia but I gotta be a factual dorkus somewhere.)

In training, there's intramurals. Basketball and baseball and football and even some track and field. A few of the fellas try to get Buck to at least run track, but he brushes them off.

He can't tell them the reason why. Just says they're not his speed and slips away. The answer is that his daddy bet on everything. Including him. And if he didn't win or take the fall? Hell to pay.

But Bucky. Bucky plays any sport he wanders by. He has perfect lay-ups in basketball and runs like a shot for baseball. In football, he's got the ability to plant himself and stay firm, no matter how large the guy trying to push through him.

And in track and field. Well. That's extra-special. He runs. He jumps. He does the hurdles and the pole vault. And Buck shows up to whatever game Bucky's playing because he finally gets to feel some of the joy of simply playing. Joy that Bucky brings to him at the end of the day, unabashedly dropping kisses onto Buck as part of his victory lap. Which is what it is even if Bucky's on the losing side. He's full of compliments on the team that beats him, and his love of the game as something to be loved on its own makes Buck feels safe. It always makes Buck think it's almost worth trying to play again himself. But there's the little boy part of him that simply can't do it again, and Buck is determined to listen to that kid in ways his father never tried to.

"Oh, Captain," Douglass says one day as Buck slips behind him to sit down at a track meet. "We made you a sign."

The boys delight in seeing him in the stands. When he misses games, he has to explain himself. How could he leave Bucky without a good luck charm? What sort of half-assed courtship was this? It always makes Bucky smile and laugh. It's like having a hundred brothers, and he loves them all.

Douglass's shit-eating grin gives him away even before Bucky unfurls the paper, but he makes a show of doing it slowly just to hear the giggles ramp up.

Marry Me, John Egan

There are hearts and flowers drawn around the edges. In the bottom corner, someone's done a caricature of Bucky and Buck. Bucky's flexing and blowing a kiss. Buck has heart-shaped eyes.

"Look, fellas, I'll ask him, but you know what a cad he is," Buck says.

The fellas laugh and agree. They laugh harder when Buck holds up the sign after the first pole vault and shouts, "EGAN! DO IT AGAIN, AND I MIGHT SAY YES."

Bucky reads the sign and laughs so hard he doubles over. "YOU FOOL!" he shouts back. "YOU'RE ASKING ME!"

"LOOKS MORE LIKE A STATEMENT TO ME," Buck says, craning his neck to read the sign.

"ALL RIGHT. FINE. I MAKE THIS ONE, WE'RE GETTING MARRIED."

The crowd cheers. The cheers get louder when Bucky clears the vault height like it's nothing. He jumps to standing on the bag and points towards Buck.

"YOU AND ME BUCK."

"YEAH YEAH YOU AND ME" Buck shouts back before he's utterly buried in a dogpile from the fellas. He grins to himself, wondering how loud the shouts are gonna be when the boys find out it happened weeks ago.

#masters of the air #buck/bucky #bucksquared #i would say it's out of character for me to write such heavy fluff #but i know me #it's not #it's really great to do it again honestly #buck cleven #bucky egan

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koko-puffs-love · 1 month

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What would it be like to eat each of your characters?

OHH this is a fun question. sorry if I don’t answer it in a satisfactory way… (also I wrote all of this under the assumption the nomming is safe and non-fatal… their reactions in a fatal situation would be very different lol)

Koko - They taste like marshmallow and might squirm from excitement when being swallowed. Once it’s actually in the stomach, they tend to conk out pretty quickly. Koko is a very sleepy fella. They’re also super soft and don’t have bones so I imagine its a mostly pleasant experience

Snakey - Honestly he just tastes like chicken for some reason. Will squirm like HELL because he doesn’t appreciate being munched but will probably settle down when he realizes he’s not getting out and resign to his fate. he’ll grumble a bunch though. also probably not very easy to nom

Kovidar - Tastes like soap (ew) and will also be super squirmy out of nervousness or fear. If he’s able to calm down, then he’ll either do his science work in the stomach or he’ll take it as time to get some rest. he still finds the situation to be overall awkward though, unfortunately for him he’s super easy to nom and tends to get into situations

C.are.Bear - He tastes like cotton candy and is super soft too. not used to being nommed but would probably be okay with it, if not a little confused. Wouldn’t squirm at all and would just be a very comfortable weight, and is also incapable of causing stomachaches

Cinna - Green apple flavored (despite being a carnivore, he really likes apples). first of all good fucking luck eating this guy they’re built like a brick shithouse. second of all he would probably be mostly chill with it? if not a little disgruntled. They’d act annoyed but really they appreciate the comfiness. also if ur smaller than him and manage to eat him then he’ll probably give u a stomachache…

Rieka - tastes like pop rocks and might squirm a lot. he’ll probably use this time confined in your belly to ramble to you about space. She totally doesn’t mind being nommed at all, thinks it’s fun and all around a good time, might try doing arts and crafts on the walls of your stomach though? Hopefully you don’t mind!

Zyair - Would try to pretend he’s okay with it but is secretly pissed off. He tastes like asparagus for some reason. He would rather be doing the nomming than having it happen to him… but he’ll grit his teeth and bear it to please the person nomming him.

Fisk - they taste like. well, fish. if you nom this guy they will cry and scream and flail they do NOT like it one bit. They are scared as hell at all times they will squirm around like crazy and also sob very loudly. You can probably get the sobbing down to whimpers if you manage to convince them they won’t die…

#SORRY IT TOOK A MINUTE TO RESPOND TO THIS IVE BEEN DYING LATELY #koko #snakey #kovidar #c.are.bear #cinna #rieka #zyair #fisk #extreme cuddling #endosoma #sfw vore #swwh #swallowed whole #nsx vore #nonsexual vore #ask

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theyandereonmyoji · 11 months

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General Yandere Silver the Hedgehog Headcanons

Well, I’ve been receiving quite a few requests for Silver, so I thought that, before responding any of those, I should post some of my general headcanons (Also sorry about the hiatus, but thankfully I should be free for a long while) TW: implied murder and kidnapping

This sweet, naive hedgehog would take a long time before he realized he felt anything…special towards you. He’s just happy to have friends he can talk to. After all, he can get pretty lonely back in his future, even with how much he wants to make friends and hang out with them, he can’t. However, after a long while, he starts asking himself tons of questions about his behavior. Like why do his eyes wander off to where you are when hanging out with a bunch of your mutual friends, or why does he get so nervous when you two are alone. Whether his feelings towards you are purely platonic or even romantic, he’ll eventually realize how truly intense his feelings are.

His attitude towards you wouldn't change much on a surface level, he’s still the eager, optimistic hedgehog that wears his heart on his sleeves and likes to be around you. Yet, those traits that would make him a lovable dork in most situations, is what ultimately causes him to be rather intense when you two are together. He’s basically like an overgrown puppy, lovable and ultimately doesn’t want to cause you any issues, yet he can be extremely overbearing and not allow you to have any personal space. It doesn’t matter how boring or mundane your activities are for the day, he’s always there, for better or for worse.

If one day you decide that he’s just too intense for you and ask him to please leave you alone for a while, he will give be noticeably sad even if he tries to hide it, but he will leave you alone…for a little while anyways, him lasting a day without you is a miracle, but eventually he’ll beg you for you two to hang out again, swearing that he will try to give you your space, but to please let him be around you again. And honestly you would need to be heartless to say no to the poor guy, he’s just trying his best, can you really stay mad at him for long? From then on, he respects your personal space a bit more, though he does still have his moments where that type of behavior can resurface.

Despite how sweet and caring he is towards you (and towards any of his friends really) He can be quite…serious for a lack of a better term. If he sees anything or anyone that he might consider a threat, well, mercy might not be in his vocabulary that day. Honestly it’s like a on/off switch, one moment he’s being the sweetest cinnamon roll to ever exist towards all of his friends, and even more towards you, the next he’s willing to commit murder for your sake. Trust me when I say you want to stop him before things get messy, if not for the sake of whatever poor fella crossed him that day, at least to have a healthy conscience at the end of that day. After all, Silver sees no reason to hide what he’s willing to do for you

The poor boy gets jealous easily and he’s terrible at hiding it. The thing he’s not terrible at is gaslighting himself though. After all, there’s no way he would ever harm someone innocent, they must be evil in some way, he just knows you’re not safe with them. Pray to whatever god you believe in (or to good luck if you’re not religious, whatever works) that he doesn’t find enough “evidence” to support his claim that your friend is a menace, because once he does, there’s no stopping him. He’s a stubborn one, and in his eyes, it’s not like he’s doing anything wrong. He’s just keeping everyone you safe away from that bastard, but it’s ok now, they’ll be gone soon, so don’t worry about it, ok?

I hope you like gifts, because with Silver you’re going to get a lot of hand-made ones. He wishes nothing more than to make you smile, and he figured out that a good way to do so would be gifts. Baked good, some small crafts, he’ll try to make anything, and while they might not be of the best quality, it’s the intention that counts, and again, you would have to be absolutely heartless to tell him that you don’t like his gifts, especially with those puppy eyes of his. He’s just so happy when you acknowledge all of his hard work to make you happy, he just can’t get enough of your smile, it’s almost like oxygen to him, he just can’t get enough of it. He’s willing to do anything for you, quite literally.

Silver probably has the least stable breaking point out of everyone, mostly cuz he’s so used to thinking about how everything can go wrong due to his ruined future, that basically anything happening to you is catastrophic in his eyes. You got a scratch? He panics, a fight with someone? Pray they get a quick death. Eventually as things get worse and worse (according to him anyways) he’ll decide that he’s had enough and not let you go anywhere without him, or more accurately, let you go anywhere at all. Reasoning with him is impossible, after all he’s as stubborn as can get, and as much as he loves you, he’s not taking no for an answer, after all it’s all for your sake, so shouldn’t you be happy?

The only possible way I can see you escaping from him is if you somehow gain his trust enough for him to let his guard down, slip up, and give you a chance to peace out…but good luck with that. It isn’t that he wouldn’t trust you, but he’s just incapable of being apart from you, so a moment when you’re alone are too few and far between, I doubt you would even have a proper plan to escape him. In the case you somehow do manage to do so, your freedom won’t last long, he’s really adept with that psychokinesis of his, so the moment he sees you it’s game over. He would try to justify to himself why would you ever want to run away, after all, it’s impossible for him to see what he did wrong, you probably were just anxious, but no need to worry, he will always be there for you

#yandere #yandere sonic the hedgehog #yandere sonic the hedgehog x reader #yandere x reader #sonic the hedgehog #sth #yandere x y/n #yandere headcanons #green tea #yandere silver the hedgehog #yandere silver the hedgehog x reader #yandere silver the hedgehog x y/n

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imreallynotokaybutimtrying · 3 months

Text

heres smth i drew on my ipad for all my moots and everyone that sees this! i love u all ive got my partner but this fella has u and so do i im claiming any of u that need or want a valentine as my own rn mwah mwah love u all cuties 😘🫶🫶

sure valentines is cringe but we all need cringe in our lives sometimes 😂

hope you're all safe and good luck with everything! dm me if there's anything youd like to talk about or whatever ❤️

#tw s3lf harm #psychosis #self h@rm #tw self h4rm #delusions #styroblr #beansblr #actually bpd #edblr #tw ed #tw ana

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dialovers-translations · 1 year

Text

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Yuma Dark [10]

ー The scene starts in the living room of the Mukami manor

Yuma: ...Nn. It’s good.

Yui: Thank god! I doubt it’s up to par with Ruki-kun’s cooking though...

Yuma: Nah. Yer cooking’s definitely not inferior to his. I’ll brag ‘bout it when we get back to Eden.

Yui: ( I couldn’t help but notice he seemed a little down, but it seems like he’s feeling a bit better now. )

Yuma: Say. There’s one thing I’m kinda curious ‘bout tho.

Yui: Yes?

Yuma: Kino has these crows that are always with him, right? Have ya also noticed there’s one odd bird amongst them?

Yui: Ah...Are you talking about the one always staring at you? I thought it was kind of strange too.

But that crow is actually a Ghoul...Right? Does that ring any bells?

Yuma: I think it’s strange ‘cause it doesn’t. I don’t know any Ghouls personally, nor can I think of any occasion where they might have seen me before.

Yui: I wonder if it wants to tell you something.

Yuma: Beats me. Oh well, I doubt it’s a big deal. Ah, can I eat that one too.

Yui: Yeah, of course. ...Wait, ah! Yuma-kun, watch your elbow!

Yuma: Ah? ...Woah, shit!

*Thud*

Yui: Are you alright?

Yuma: Yeah. I’m glad it was just the loaf of bread which fell and not one of the plates. ...There.

ー Yuma picks up the fallen bread

Yuma: It’s still perfectly edible afterwards after all...Nom nom.

Selection

→ Are you sure you don’t want me to get a fresh one? (❦)

Yui: Shouldn’t I go get you a fresh one?

Yuma: It’s fine, really. I can’t throw away food just ‘cause it fell on the floor.

→ That’s dirty!

Yui: It’s dirty to eat things off the floor!

Yuma: It’s not. I know we haven’t been home in a while, but it’s not like the place is covered in dust.

Yuma: It’s way more hygienic compared to when I used to eat things right off the street.

Yui: I see...You grew up in the slums, didn’t you?

Yuma: Yeah. That’s why I have no issue eatin’ stuff which has fallen on the floor. Well, I guess Ruki would get on my case for it.

Yui: I’m sorry if my question offends you but...Was it hard to live in such a place?

Yuma: It sure wasn’t easy. But it wasn’t just all bad times.

I got lucky and was picked up by a good guy.

Yui: Are you talking about your leader?

Yuma: Yeah. He was called Lucks. Super reliable fella, honestly.

Of course, he had many other followers as well. And I was one of them.

We lived far from a luxurious, comfortable life, but we always stuck together, so every day was a blast.

Yui: I see...

( Yuma-kun’s so admirable. Even though he should have gone through so much trouble, he can still think of those times as fun. )

Yuma: But...I couldn’t save my precious mates. I regret that to this day.

Yui: ...They all passed away, didn’t they?

Yuma: Yeah. My pals, as well as that place we spent time together...All of it was taken away by the army.

I no longer had my home, my memories or my family. And on top of that, I lost the city I lived in as well.

...I have no place I can call my hometown.

Yui: That’s why...You wanted to protect Eden, right?

Yuma: Yeah. That bein’ said, it’s not the building itself I want to keep safe. That’s just a bunch of bricks.

I just don’t want to lose another thing dear to me.

Never again do I want to forced to just stand there in silence...as things fade away right in front of my eyes.

Yui: ...

Yuma: ...My bad. The conversation kind of got dark, huh?

Yui: Oh no. Thank you for telling me.

I also...have to thank this Lucks person and your other friends.

Yuma: Hah? How so?

Yui: I mean, it’s only because they saved you, that I was ultimately able to meet you.

When I look at it like that, I honestly can’t thank them enough!

Yuma: ...Guess so. Without him and the others, I would have probably died somewhere along the road.

But still...In that case, I feel like I should thank ya instead.

Yui: Eh?

Yuma: Nothin’. Anyway, seconds please!

Yui: Ah, yes! One second, please.

ー Yui walks away

Yuma: ...Because it’s only thanks to ya...that I can now feel glad that I actually survived back then.

Monologue

The words he whispered behind my back,

I faintly picked up on as well.

Hearing those words, I once again thought to myself.

I am truly glad to have Yuma-kun in my life.

I can no longer tell them in person,

but I want to thank this guy called Lucks (ルクス),

as well as his other friends (仲間) somehow.

Thank you so much for saving him.

And for allowing me to meet him ーー I’d say.

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #yuma mukami #lost eden #diabolik lovers translation #leyumadark10

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itwasthereaminuteago · 2 years

Text

¦¦ 14. Lovebites ¦¦

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

Michael Kinsella x female reader

Warnings: biting! Cunnilingus, fingering, sexy sex, possessiveness, some fluff!

Author’s note: I don't know why, he just strikes me as the possessive type. It's always the quiet ones...

You close the door as quietly as you can when you return home earlier than you expected from a night out in the town. It was just a few drinks with the girls, but some rowdy lads in the last pub had started trying to talk to you despite you all trying your utmost to ignore their unwelcome creepy flirty advances.

They were all full of liquid confidence, letching and leering over you, one of them in particular getting far too close and handsy with you no matter how many times you said no and moved away. Finally, it got to be too much and you ended up smashing the fella in the face with your fist, earning a cheer from the rest of the pub but also leaving you with bruised knuckles.

You were just going to come home, sneak into bed and worry about explaining it to Michael in the morning.

But no such luck…

"Hey love, you're home early. Did ya have a good night?" He asks, reaching for you.

You quickly and subtly slip your arms around his neck so he doesn't see the evidence of the night's drama.

"Aye it was alright, just a bit tired y'know. Thought you'd be late over at Jimmy's as well?"

"Ach he was bein' an arse and I'd had enough so…" he kisses you softly, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. "besides, means an early night for us both, pet? Can't say I'm upset about it."

He smiles warmly and you let him lead you to your bedroom. You're kind of glad he was at home when you got back, after the night you had you really could use something to take your mind off it, and you always felt safe with Michael.

He backs you up to the edge of the mattress, soft lips and the brush of his beard on your cheek and neck making you giggle as you flump down on the bed. You push up the hem of his shirt and he takes your hint, peeling it off so you can appreciate his well-muscled physique. You forget yourself as your hands automatically move to touch, and he grabs them, noticing the redness on your right hand. You flinch at the fresh pain and his eyes bore into yours.

"What happened?"

You shook your head, "it's nothin' Mikey, don't worry."

Of course he's not convinced. His brow furrows even deeper. "Someone hurt ya darlin'? C'mon an tell me now."

"No it's alright, it's sorted. Just some lads were annoyin' me an the girls. They wouldn't take the bloody hint so I punched one of em."

"Fuckin' hell love! Is that right?" He brings your hands up to his lips and kisses your sore knuckles.

You nod and smirk, pleased you were able to stand up for yourself and that Michael was obviously proud of you for doing so.

"Let me get some ice for ya…"

You shake your head and stop him. "No s'alright, just a bit achy is all."

"So I don't need t'kill any of these fuckers then?" He jokes, but you know he would in a heartbeat. You pull him close again, your hands smoothing over his chest to try calm down the protective and possessive urge that you knew had been struck up within him. It never took much to get him riled when you were concerned.

"No it's alright baby, just need you, here. Now."

"Yeah, can do that…" He swiftly aids you in removing your clothes, his hungry mouth tasting every bare bit of skin as it's revealed, laying you down on the bed and roaming over and claiming every inch of you. A yelp turns into a moan as he sucks a bruising mark into the skin of your neck.

"Mikey!"

"You're mine, alright? Need you to know that love," you gasp as he moves down, his eyes darker now, his fingers grabbing and pressing into your soft flesh. "All of you, fuckin' mine." he growls, nipping your collarbone and leaving a mark there too. "S'only me that gets to touch ya, only me that gets to mark ya up… ain't it pet?"

Your breaths are shallow now, whimpers of agreement woven through them as Michael leaves his literal mark on you, working on letting everyone know exactly who you belong to.

"Yeah," you moan as he's between your bare legs biting into the soft sensitive flesh there. He rakes his nails with just the right amount of pressure over your outer thigh as his mouth sucks and licks leaving a path of purpling blotches leading towards your cunt. He holds you down with a quiet strength that has you aching for him. Before you're able to beg for more he's sucking your clit between his soft full lips making you buck your hips up towards his face with high wavering whimpers. His fingers breach your dripping entrance and he looks up to watch your face contort in needy bliss as he starts pumping them in and out of you.

"Michael, fuck, I want you. Need you."

He hums and crooks his fingers a little, rubbing over the spot that makes you gasp, makes you wetter, makes you lose control.

"Yeah? Wan me to fuck ya, love?" His voice is raw and dark with desire. "Are ye wantin' m'cock stuffed in that pretty, wet cunt?"

"Yes, oh god Mikey please!" you plead, whining as he withdraws from where you need him most. Your hands curl around the back of his neck as he moves up your body, he grips his cock, smacking the head against your clit a few times and leaning down to suck another harsh vivid mark on the other side of your neck. The room fills with your shared moans as he sinks into you, and you wrap your legs around him as he thrusts hard and deep.

You'll proudly wear the evidence of his ownership if you get to feel like this, but despite the possessive bites and words he's not just fucking you senseless. It's passionate, ensuring that you know just how much he fucking loves you, showing you with every touch, kiss, and the way he moves within you. When you come he's watching you, awestruck, doing everything he can to prolong your high before he follows, marking you up from the inside.

Afterwards, you close your eyes, smiling softly as he kisses so tenderly over every single mark he's left on the canvas of your body.

#kinkwasthereaminuteago #michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella smut #michael kinsella x female reader

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slightly-smarter-nat · 2 years

Text

Lucky The Pizza Dog || Kate Bishop

➳ ➳ ➳ ➳———————-➳ ➳ ➳ ➳ ———————-➳ ➳ ➳ ➳———————-➳ ➳ ➳ ➳

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2375 words.

Summary: Kate has no idea why Lucky is acting so strange.

A/N: Ahhhhhhh, I love Kate Bishop so much!!! Also, I am continuing with The Scarlet Apprentice and The Unknown Widow series, they just take me longer to write. Hopefully you all enjoy!

Please do not repost (on here or any social media platform), copy, translate or take ownership of my work. Reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated <3.

Masterlist

➳ ➳ ➳ ➳———————-➳ ➳ ➳ ➳ ———————-➳ ➳ ➳ ➳———————-➳ ➳ ➳ ➳———————-➳ ➳ ➳ ➳ ———————-➳ ➳ ➳ ➳

GIF not mine

Lucky The Pizza Dog: Kate Bishop-

“Come on boy, we need to hurry and meet Clint before we’re late.” Kate attempted to encourage her furry companion along the streets of New York, but Lucky wasn’t having it.

She was on her way to Clint’s Hotel, having agreed to have dinner with him, Laura and the kids whilst they were visiting.

It wasn’t like Lucky to behave this way, usually he was very good at listening, never being a problem on their daily walks. Though recently he has taken up the habit of stopping at a certain alleyway round the corner from Kate’s new apartment.

She gives his lead a few light tugs to get his attention, “Come on Luck, good boy, this way”. Lucky chose to ignore his owner, and continued to stare down the alleyway. Kate followed his line of sight, wondering if something was bothering him. There wasn’t anything she could see from a distance, and if she had more time she would happily go with him to investigate.

“Alright, that’s it, ‘Sir Dog Of Pizza’, time to board the ‘Bishop Express’.” Kate bent down to Lucky’s level and scooped him from the ground, much to his protest. After some slight squirming, he decided to rest his head on her shoulder and let out a whine, “I know, I know we can check it out another time okay buddy”.

Kate picked up her pace eager to make up for lost time.

Once she reached the corner of the Hotel, she placed Lucky down on the floor, to which he started to walk.

Once Lucky made eye contact with the Barton’s, his tail wagged uncontrollably and he started to bark in excitement.

“Who is it, who is that boy, go on, go see.” Kate checked her surroundings to see if it was safe enough to let Lucky off of his lead. Once free from his lead, he sprinted the short distance to Clint and jumped up eagerly for cuddles, to which Clint gladly reciprocated.

“Hey fella, how have you been? Yeah, yeah I missed you too bud,” Clint gave Lucky one big rub across his body; then walked away to talk to Kate.

Laura, Cooper, Lila and Nathaniel eagerly took over the cuddle duty to Lucky, smothering him in love.

“Better late than never Bishop.” Clint playfully said to Kate.

Kate scrunched her face in awkwardness, “Sorry, Lucky got distracted on the way, so we got held back a bit”.

“Well I’m just glad you’re here, it’s your turn to pick the Restaurant tonight. Come on, the kids have been dying to see you”.

The matter of the alleyway quickly left Kate’s mind after that as she spent time with what she considers to be her Second Family.

➳ ➳ ➳ ➳———————-➳ ➳ ➳ ➳ ———————-➳ ➳ ➳ ➳———————-➳ ➳ ➳ ➳———————-➳ ➳ ➳ ➳ ———————-➳ ➳ ➳ ➳———————-➳ ➳ ➳ ➳

A few days had passed since Kate met up with the Barton’s.

It was midday, and this time she was on her way to meet Yelena and Fanny for a puppy play-date at the local dog park. Lucky of course was in attendance, meaning they were back in the same situation as they were a few days ago. Kate was hesitant in taking the same route as the other night with him, but she thought it might have just been a one off, ‘maybe he saw a rat or something and wanted to chase it’, she concluded.

She tried her hardest to keep Lucky moving as they went past the alley, but with Lucky being the clever dog that he is, he knew exactly where he was and started veering off towards the gap.

“Noooo, Lucky we are going to the dog park, your most favourite place in the world, come on, it’s so much better than the dirty alleyway!” Kate began to reason with Lucky, who didn’t seem the slightest bit interested in what she had to say, “Come on, we get to see Yelena and Fanny, and play with the ball… ugh fine let's go see what the fuss is about”. Lucky wags his tail rapidly, tapping his feet in excitement as he lets Kate lead the way into the darkened passage.

Kate takes hesitant steps, trying to be as quiet as humanly possible, she doesn’t know what to expect down here. For all she knows someone could be waiting to jump out at her. Her efforts to remain silent are pointless, with a dog panting away happily, trying to encourage her further down the alley, he has no interest in stealth.

They make it to the end, and Kate looks around curiously, trying to figure out why Lucky would be so obsessed with coming down here in the first place. She sees a shift by one of the wooden fences that blocks off the passage from the other areas surrounding, she walks over slowly, ready to move the discarded paper bag on the floor, just as she is about to grab it, a pigeon suddenly makes its appearance and flys up towards her.

“Oh my- seriously, that’s what you wanted to come see? Come on, Yelena is probably wondering where we are.” Kate places her hand on her chest, attempting to process the shock experienced; she makes her way out towards the entrance, when her movements are halted by a very stubborn Lucky.

She turns back to look at him, she’s never seen him act like this before. He’s stood proud, not prepared to move from his spot.

She rolls her eyes, becoming frustrated, “Luck, please let’s just go”.

Lucky takes a seat on the floor. Making a point on his refusal to move.

“Unbelievable…” Kate takes out her phone, dialling Yelena’s number, “Hi Yelena, yeah we were on our way but Lucky is acting weird, can you just come and meet us and see if Fanny can convince him to leave the alleyway where we are, I’ll send you the location.”

After bidding Yelena a farewell, she hangs up the phone and crouches down to Lucky’s level. “The worst part is, you're too cute to stay mad at, you know that right”. She starts giving him some head rubs to which Lucky leans into.

Eventually, when Yelena turns up with Fanny-with lots of doggy voices and knee pats, Lucky leaves the alleyway, much to Kate’s relief. She makes a mental note to keep this in mind next time they go on a walk, trying to avoid this from becoming a regular occurrence.

It was the following week, thankfully Kate hadn’t experienced any stubbornness from Lucky. She completely avoided her usual route, making it easier to prevent Lucky from standing guard at his favourite spot.

It was just a casual walk today, no one to meet, just some time for Kate and Lucky to spend together.

Kate was admiring the flower stand situated outside one of the buildings she was passing, delicately running her fingers over the petals, admiring the wide variation of colours displayed.

“Excuse me, hi, how much for these purples ones?” She enquired to the stall owner.

Whilst engaged in conversation, she failed to notice how Lucky was pulling on his lead. She absentmindedly pulled back on his lead to keep him close by, attempting to reach out to stroke him and calm him down. As she went to pat him, she felt the lead go loose.

When she turned to inspect what had happened she saw Lucky bolting it down the street.

Abandoning the flowers, she rapidly moved to try and catch him up.

“Lucky! Lucky come back!” She yelled through the street, using a combination of commands and whistles to entice his attention.

Lucky made no effort to stop, he ran through the streets expertly, easily dodging pedestrians and traffic on the go.

Kate used all of her efforts to keep close to him, but after a particularly hard collision with a bystander, she fell to the ground, losing sight of where Lucky went.

She picked up the person she ran into to make sure they were okay- they were, she gave them several apologies and started on her way to find Lucky.

Kate became frantic, she was so worried about where Lucky was, she couldn’t lose him, he means so much to her, he’s family to her. She loves him more than life itself.

As she moves through the streets she stops a few people to ask if they have seen a Golden Retriever roaming the streets, to which many of them shook their heads and said they hadn’t seen one.

Kate noticed one man sitting at a bus stop, she decided to approach him, running out of options, “Excuse me, I am so sorry to bother you, but my dog just slipped his lead and has run away from me, I was wondering if you might have seen him? Here I have a picture of him…” Kate pulled out her phone, and zoomed past the many selfies she had of her and Lucky saved to her camera roll.

The man squints at the screen, “Yeah, I saw him, he ran that way, towards Sal’s place”.

Kate smiled at the information given, “Thank you so much, enjoy the rest of your day!”

She made her way to the direction she was instructed. After passing many stores and apartment buildings she reached the location specified.

After having time to breathe, she realised exactly where she was, she was at the front area of where Lucky refuses to leave- doing a full U-turn on their walk- how she only just realised this, she doesn’t know, in the panic she didn’t even think to check Lucky’s alleyway of choice.

She quickly makes her way to the alley, hoping to find Lucky there.

She cries in relief when she sees him there, happily wagging his tail like he didn’t just have Kate running for dear life to catch up to him.

“Oh, Lucky, don’t you ever do that again, I can’t even be mad, I am just so relieved you’re okay!” She kneels to the ground to cuddle Lucky, refusing to let him go.

After a few seconds, Lucky removes himself from her grip and runs over to the wooden fence at the end of the alleyway, “You’re actually being serious? I swear Lucky, if it is another Pigeon you’re sleeping on the couch for a week-no bed cuddles for you”.

She walks over to him to look at what he’s staring at, he looks up towards her, almost gauging to see if she’s paying attention. Suddenly he uses his nose to slide up a loose panel on the fence, squeezing through the new gap it has just made.

Kate stands there confused, unsure of why Lucky is showing her this. Since she hasn’t moved, Lucky pokes his head through the gap and barks encouraging Kate to follow.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming,” She attempts to push herself through the gap, barely fitting through, she then opts to jump the fence. Once she’s on the other side she notices a wide area, decorated with huge dumpsters; cardboard boxes and glass bottles.

She looks around trying to figure out where they are, she watches as Lucky walks up to a back door.

She follows him and looks to the sign displayed above, “Sal’s Pizzeria”, written above in red and green letters.

“Really? All this for pizza? We have pizza at home!” She tells Lucky, purely surprised with the amount of effort he has gone to for some pizza.

Lucky releases a low growl, to which Kate raises her eyebrow at, “You did not just growl at me.”

Lucky moves to scratch at the back door a few times with his paw; spinning on the spot to resume a sitting position.

A few seconds pass and a girl opens the door, wearing a uniform, “Wait, no way?! I haven’t seen you in months! Come here gorgeous boy!” Lucky eagerly runs into the girl’s arms receiving lots of kisses and cuddles. Kate stands there shocked, unsure what is going on.

After a few seconds of fuss, the girl casts her glance to Kate, “Oh I am so sorry, I didn’t see you there, I’m y/n.” She holds her hand out for Kate to shake, which Kate gladly accepts.

“Hi, I’m Kate, um sorry to disturb you, it’s just that Lucky led me here, and he has been adamant of coming here for weeks it seems and now I know why, I take it he likes the pizza?”

The girl nods eagerly, “Yes, he used to come here everyday, around the same time to get his pizza fix. I got so worried when he stopped coming, I just hoped nothing bad had happened to him, I see he made a new friend”.

Kate walks over to pat Lucky on the head, “Yeah, I’ve had him for a while now, I don’t know what I’d do without him”.

The girl smiles, “I’m so glad, thank you so much for taking care of him. I’d have taken him in myself but with growing up in Foster care and barely having a place of my own to call home, I couldn’t really offer him the home he deserved. To try and make up for it, I’d give him leftovers from the Restaurant and made him a makeshift bed in the Office”.

The girl leans down to rub Lucky’s face, “I missed him so much”.

Kate’s heart clenches at the sight, she can tell the girl really cares for Lucky and did her best to support him with what little she had.

“You know, you can visit him anytime, I’m sure he would love to have you around again”.

The girl raised her gaze to Kate at this, “Wow, thank you so much, that really means a lot. Would you like to come in for some food, the place is quiet and we’ve just made a fresh batch of Pizza ready to go”.

Kate nods her head, “Sure, I’d love that, we’ll meet you out front, probably best to sit him outside.”

“Yes of course”. The girl moves to give one last pat on Lucky’s head before heading in.

She briefly turns to Kate, casting her grateful smile.

Kate’s heart flutters at that, she has to remember to thank Lucky when they get home. If it wasn’t for him, she wouldn’t have met the girl of her dreams.

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takemebackto-eden · 7 months

Text

EM ‘Hey Stranger’ • Chapter Sixteen - California Dreaming

Chapter summary: Nina struggles being home.

content warnings: sad themes, mutual pining, alludes to parental / family abuse, parental alcoholism.

‘All the leaves are brown,

And the sky is grey.

I’ve been for a walk, on a winter’s day.

I’d be safe and warm if I was in L.A.

California dreamin’, on such a winter’s day.’

California Dreamin’ - The Mamas & The Papas

Monday / the Airport / 10:40AM

Sheryl: “And you’ve got your passport?”

Nina: [patting herself down, joking] “Shit, I knew I forgot something.”

Sheryl: (deadpanned) “Very funny.” (worried) “And you’ll call one of us when you land?”

Nina: “I will, I promise.”

Sheryl: “And call us if anything goes wrong? Or you need any help?”

Robin: “I think she gets the picture Mom.”

Nina: [hugging Sheryl goodbye] “Thank you for everything Sheryl. I’ll be in touch soon.” [walking over to Robin, pulling her into a hug, tearing up] “This is stupid, I’ll be back in a few weeks, I don’t know why I’m crying.”

Robin: [crying but ignoring her tears, sad laughter] “I’ll make sure Eddie doesn’t accidentally kill the cats.”

Nina: [wiping her tears, smiling] “No feeding them lasagne, I don’t want to come home to an overweight cat.”

Robin: [laughing] “I can’t promise anything, El keeps trying to feed Ozzy eggos.” [Nina laughs] “Please keep in touch. Especially with… you know. Just keep in touch.”

Nina: [thoughtful, nodding understanding] “I know. I’ll keep in touch.” [pecking Robin’s cheek] “Bye bestie.”

Robin: [wiping her cheek in disgust] “Ew, gross. I thought we didn’t do the whole ‘showing emotion’ thing!” [Nina rolls her eyes and walks through the terminal gate] “Bye! Call me when you land!” [Once Nina has gone, quietly to herself] “Good luck Nina.”

Eddie’s trailer / 10:40am

Eddie: [looking at the clock] “There she goes guys, Nina is boarding her plane right now.” [sighing, glum, talking to the kittens] “At least I’ve got you two for company.” [dragging a toy across the floor, Ozzy is chasing it, Eddie is patting Garfield who is sitting in his lap] “Should I be offended Nina didn’t ask me to drive her to the airport? Nah, she wouldn’t want to be a bother, even though I took the day off to take her.” (Worried) “Should I have offered to take her? What do you guys think?” (Sarcastically) “Great, now I’m asking relationship advice from kittens, who have I become?” (Laughing at himself) “If anyone could see me right now they’d think I’d gone fucking nuts. This is the least cool I’ve ever been.” [picking up Garfield who tries to paw at his face] “You are pretty cute though.” [cuddling Garfield into his neck] “Since it’s just us fellas I can be honest, I think if Nina had asked me to drive her to the airport I would have cried like a wimp saying goodbye. Probably for the best.” [looking at the clock again] “I miss her already.” [picking up Ozzy, both kittens in his arms] “What do you think Ozzy, do you miss your momma? I think you do.” [thoughtful] “I hope she’ll be okay. She’s got to be, right?”

7pm California time / 10pm Hawkins time

Nina: [phone between her ear and shoulder, chewing her thumb nervously] “Come on Eddie, pick up.” [the phone continues to ring out] “Damn it.” [the voicemail button beeps] “Hey Eddie, it’s me. Just letting you know I got home safe, though some little shit in front of me kept throwing nuts at me the entire flight, I keep finding peanuts in my hair.” [laughing] “I’m guessing it’s late back in Hawkins so I’m sorry if this wakes you up. So yeah…” [she twirls the phone cord around her finger, hoping Eddie will hear her voice through the answering machine and pick up, he doesn’t] “Things are fine with my Mom. She’s in bed resting at the moment, but we’re okay. Business as usual, I think.” [homesick already] “I hope you and the boys are doing well. Robin said to say she’ll pick them up on Wednesday morning for their vet appointment.” [trying to hide her disappointment] “So hopefully I’ll speak to you sometime in the week. I- erm, yeah, bye.” [about to put the phone down, moment of realisation] “Wait, I almost forgot, check your backpack! Okay, Goodnight.” [Nina hangs up the phone sighing, and begins to walk up the stairs of her house when the phone rings] “Hello?”

Eddie: [rushing] “I wasn’t ignoring you, I promise! I had a cat related emergency.”

Nina: (amused) “A what?”

Eddie: “Ozzy kinda got stuck inside my guitar.”

Nina: (bewildered) “He what?!”

Eddie: “He’s fine now! I bribed him with treats and he came out. No harm done.”

Nina: “Eddie!”

Eddie: “He was just exploring!” [joking] “Ozzy was definitely the right name for him, he’s got metal in his veins.” [Nina laughs] “How was the flight? Did you get home okay?”

Nina: (teasing) “Well if you heard from my voicemail, I was harassed the entire flight by a six year old and a bag of peanuts.” [Eddie laughs] “And I got a taxi home. Expensive but not too bad.”

Eddie: (worried) “Your Mom didn’t pick you up?”

Nina: “Broken foot, remember?”

Eddie: (wincing) “Right. How’s that going?”

Nina: “She’s pretty much bedbound at the moment but we’re getting on well. Civil. Diplomatic.”

Eddie: (sarcastic) “That’s big of her.”

Nina: “Don’t start.”

Eddie: “Okay darling, I’m sorry.” [tickling Ozzy under the chin] “What’s this about me needing to look in my bag?”

Nina: (smirking) “There’s a gift for you. Go look.”

Eddie: “Okay, wait right here one sec.” [Eddie sets the phone down on the bedside table and moves the kittens who have fallen asleep on his lap, Nina can hear him in the background apologising to the kittens for waking them up, Nina smiles at him, shaking her head, thinking how adorable he is. Eddie unzips the bag and Nina can hear him go “oh fuck” in the background. Heavy footprints become louder as he picks up the phone again] (amused) “You kinky girl.”

Nina: (smirking) “Do you like them?”

Eddie: [holding the red underwear in his hand, looking at the two Polaroid photos in front of him: one of Nina in her red underwear set, the second is the photo they took together in the caravan. Eddie smiles, biting his lip, blushing] “Love ‘em.”

Nina: (flirty) “Something to keep you going while I’m away.”

Eddie: (flirty, aroused) “You know, there are other ways of keeping me going while you’re away.”

Nina: (amused, contemplating it) “Eddie, I'm not having phone sex with you.”

Eddie: (faking annoyance) “Damn it.” [Nina giggles, Eddie smiles at her laughter, heartstrings being tugged] “Not even a little?”

Nina: [rolling her eyes, joking] “The Russians are listening, remember?”

Eddie: (awkward) “You don’t know the half of it.” [Nina laughs, Eddie forgets it and moves on. He looks in his bag and sees a copy of Stephen King’s The Shining] “What’s the book?”

Nina: “You said you wanted to read more, I thought you might like that one.”

Eddie: (grinning, looking at the note Nina has left on the front page ‘Hope you enjoy it, from Nina x’)

Eddie: “You remembered. Thank you. Got any plans for being home?”

Nina: “Might be having a catch up with some friends at the weekend but at the moment, just taking care of Mom, what about you?”

Eddie: “Hideout tomorrow, work Wednesday and Thursday, D&D Friday, working on the weekend. Same old.”

Nina: “I’ll call you on Wednesday when you’ve finished work?”

Eddie: [smiling] “I look forward to it.”

Nina’s Mom: [in the background, shouting, Eddie can hear it despite Nina covering the phone] “Nina! I didn’t bring you home for you to run my phone bill up!”

Nina: “I better go honey. I’ll speak to you soon.”

Eddie: (worried) “Okay darling. Goodnight.”

Nina: (quietly) “Goodnight Eddie.”

Eddie looks down at the photos of Nina and her underwear and laughs, smiling at Nina. He looks around, contemplating, before locking himself in the bathroom and dropping his joggers to his ankles and reaching in his boxers, grabbing his hard cock with his hand with Nina’s underwear wrapped in his fist. When he’s finished, he walks back into his room and sits on the bed. He looks around the room, bored, sighing sadly. He picks up the book and reads for the first time in a year.

Wednesday / 5pm California time, 8pm Hawkins time.

Nina: “So tell me everything, how’s Hawkins?”

Robin: [groaning dramatically] “So damn boring.” (Nina laughs) “Same old, same old here. Work is dead as per usual, Steve is useless at doing anything other than flirting with every girl that comes through the door, with a current zero percent success rate.” (Nina laughs again) “Mom has a date on friday night-” (Nina ‘oooh’s in the background and wolf whistles) “With that pervy postman-” (Nina gags) “But at least she’s getting herself out there! The hobbit children harass us at work every other day waiting for some nerdy film to be released, but other than that, nothing new!”

Nina: “And how are Ozzy and Garfield?”

Robin: “The vet's appointment went fine, they’re in surprisingly good condition considering they were abandoned, we’ve got some flea and worm treatment for them and they need to be back in a few months to be neutered! The very pretty vet said that they’re a bit underweight but at the rate Eddie is fattening them up, it shouldn’t be a problem!”

Nina: (rolling her eyes, smiling) “What’s he feeding them this time?”

Robin: (laughing) “I caught him feeding Garfield the butter off his toast this morning, and Ozzy is taking to eating cardboard boxes.”

Nina: [smiling at the thought] “Damn it, Eddie.”

Robin: “You should have seen him Nina, Ozzy keeps sitting on his shoulder like a parrot, and Garfield follows him around the trailer everywhere he goes.”

Nina: (trying to hide how homesick she feels) “That’s so sweet!” (after a quiet pause) “I miss you guys already.”

Robin: (cautiously) “How’s Californian life?”

Nina: “Weather is ridiculously hot, but it’s nice to be in the sunshine again.”

Robin: (amused) “Avoiding the topic, as usual.”

Nina: (laughing) “What can I say, I’m pro at it now.” (thinking carefully, quiet) “Things are okay. Not brilliant but bearable.”

Robin: “Is she giving you a hard time?”

Nina: [subdued, trying to make light of it] “Yeah… What with her pain meds and the withdrawal, she’s quite the handful.” (changing the topic) “But won’t be for too much longer and then I’ll be back.”

Robin: (laughing) “You’ve been gone three days and you’re already counting down the days till you come back.”

Nina: (amused) “You know I can’t stay away from you for too long.”

Robin: (smiling at the memory) “This reminds me of before you moved here, how we used to talk on the phone every Sunday.”

Nina: (teasingly) “And now you can’t get rid of me.”

Robin: “Wouldn’t have it any other way. Your mom does know you’re moving back here, right?”

Nina: “She does, I think.”

Robin: “Nina!”

Nina: “I didn’t not tell her…” [Robin snorts] “I’m just waiting for the right time.” (thoughtful) “I think she assumed I would move back if she stopped drinking.”

Robin: (sarcastic) “Cause that’s going so well for her.”

Nina: “I know.” (determined) “When we spoke on the phone I told her that I wasn’t coming back permanently, just until she got better.”

Robin: “Good. Keep in touch, okay? I’ve been worried.”

Nina: (unsure) “I will, I promise. I’ll call you on Friday?”

Robin: (smiling) “Sure. Speak soon, bestie.”

Nina laughs and says goodbye. She hangs up the phone and dials Eddie’s number.

Wayne: “Munson residence, who’s calling?”

Nina: “Hey Wayne! It’s Nina, is Eddie there?”

Wayne: “Nina! How’s California life?” [Eddie hears Wayne say Nina’s name and jumps up from the couch, trying to take the phone off Wayne] “Is the weather nice?”

Eddie: (whiny, wrestling with Wayne who holds the phone away from him) “Wayne, give me the phone!”

Wayne: “Edward, behave! I’m talking here!” (Amused, joking) “I’m sorry about that Nina, my Nephew has terrible manners!” [Nina hears Eddie whine in the background and laughs]

Nina: (smiling) “California is lovely, thank you for asking Wayne.”

Wayne: “Anytime! Bring me back some fortune cookies, will you?”

Nina: “Sure!”

Eddie: [grabbing the phone off Wayne] “Sorry about that, Wayne wouldn’t give me the phone.”

Nina: (teasingly) “Who said I was calling to talk to you? Maybe I was trying to call my best friend Wayne.”

Eddie: (deadpanned) “Very funny.”

Nina: (amused) “You know I like older guys, maybe I’m having Wayne on the side.”

Eddie: [trying to be unimpressed but too amused at the thought] “That’s just gross. You’re weird.”

Nina: “You love it.”

Eddie: [heart eyes] “I do.” [Nina giggles] “Even when you joke about fucking my uncle.”

Nina: (laughing) “The heart wants what the heart wants.”

Eddie: [shaking his head, smiling] “How are you, sweetheart?”

Nina: (sighing) “I’m okay, I guess. Missing you weirdos already.”

Eddie: (sadly) “I miss you too.” [smirking] “Thought you’ll be happy to know that Garfield and Ozzy have taken over your side of the bed, you’ve been replaced.”

Nina: [fake annoyance] “Those little shits.”

Eddie: “Eh, I don’t mind, I enjoy the company.”

Nina: (glumly) “I wish I had company, my insomnia has been shit ever since I came home.”

Eddie: (worried) “You okay?”

Nina: [lip wobbling, she coughs to clear the tears in her throat] “Yeah, I’m okay. Just tired.”

Eddie: “Not long till you’re home darling.”

Nina: (joking) “You counting down the days too?”

Eddie: “I am.” [looking over at the calendar on the kitchen wall, the three X’s through this week] “15 days and counting.”

Nina: (heart warmed) “You’re so sweet.”

Eddie: “Don’t tell anyone, I have a reputation to keep up.”

Nina: (smiling) “Your secret is safe with me, baby.”

Saturday / 8pm California time, 11pm Hawkins time.

Nina: “Hey honey.”

Eddie: (giddy) “Nina! Hey baby, how are you doing?”

Nina: (fake enthusiasm) “I’m good thank you! How are you?”

Eddie: (rambling, excited) “I’m great thank you! Oh, you should have seen it Nina, at D&D yesterday I got everyone’s asses, nobody saw Vecna coming back again! You should have seen it, I had Dustin in tears and Mike having a mid-teen crisis!” [Nina smiles at the thought] “And at band practice this morning I finally nailed that solo! Are you proud of me?”

Nina: (smiling fondly) “So proud of you baby.”

Eddie: “Work was dull this afternoon but I got an early finish so I’m just hanging with the boys. I’ve taught Ozzy how to play fetch, I even found him a little bat toy to play with! How was surfing today?”

Nina: (sighing, feeling at peace hearing Eddie’s voice) “Good, it was so nice being back on the water again. Didn’t realise how much I missed it.”

Eddie: “We’ll have to find a beach for us to go to. We could all take a weekend trip somewhere! El and Max have been asking after you, they came in to work today wanting to hang out with you, I may have heard them call you their ‘cool older friend Nina’.

Nina: (smiling widely) “Really?”

Eddie: (laughing) “Yeah man, they love you, they’re almost as excited about you coming home as I am.”

Nina: “That’s sweet, that really cheered me up.”

Eddie: (worried) “Cheered you up? What’s wrong?”

Nina: (lying) “Nothing honey, I’m okay.”

Eddie: (not convinced) “Are you sure?”

Nina: (unsure) “Erm… I think so, yeah. Just a bit blue today.”

Eddie: [getting comfy on the couch, listening intently] “Want to talk about it?”

Nina: “I’m just… nostalgic and not in a good way. Being back home is a lot harder than I thought it would be.” (choking up) “It’s bringing back a lot of feelings and memories I wasn’t prepared for.”

Eddie: [slumped, saddened] “I’m sorry baby.”

Nina: [smiling sadly] “Don’t apologise, it’s not your fault. Hearing your voice has really cheered me up.”

Eddie: “I miss you.”

Nina: “I miss you too.”

Eddie: “I wish I could hug you.”

Nina: (small) “I wish you could too. I’m sorry I haven’t spoken in a few days, things have been a bit chaotic here.”

Eddie: [nodding understandingly, then realising Nina can’t see him, remembers to speak] “It’s okay. I know you’ve been busy.” (confessional) “I’ve thought about you all the time.”

Nina: (smiling) “Me too, Eddie. I keep seeing places I’d love to take you, maybe one day we could take a trip here.”

Eddie: (surprised) “Really?”

Nina: “Really. Just me and you.” (now rambling happily) “There’s this amazing ice cream shop by the beach that you’d love, it does the most amazing chocolate ice cream! And there’s this really cool rock bar I used to go to that I know you’d like, we’ll have to go there too. And then maybe one day we could go rock-pooling, the beaches here are amazing.”

Eddie: (fondly) “I’d love that.” (smiling) “My little mermaid.”

Nina: (blushing) “Shut up! So cheesy.” [Nina’s Mom shouts something down the stairs that Eddie can’t make out, Nina’s happy mood becomes more subdued] “I’ve got to go Eddie, Mom needs me. I’ll call again on Tuesday?”

Eddie: “Sure baby. I hope you’re okay.”

Nina: [chewing her lip] “I will be when I’m home.”

Eddie: “Are you really okay?”

Nina: (rushed) “I’ve got to go Eddie, I’ll speak to you soon, bye baby.” [Nina hangs up the phone]

Eddie looks at the phone after Nina hangs up, blinking. He doesn’t know how to feel. He puts the phone back on the receiver and sits with his guitar on his lap, mindlessly strumming the chords, his mind elsewhere.

Nina hurriedly puts the phone down and runs up the stairs, trying to avoid her Mom. She pushes her bedroom door closed and lies on her bed; pulling the covers over her head, hoping the flooding memories invading her mind will subside. They don’t.

➡️Chapter Seventeen - Matilda

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phyllisthefirst · 3 months

Text

It's finally time for some more of George and Phyllis' adventures!

George Luz x OC

Summary: Phyllis Baker is with the 506th to do her job, nothing more, nothing less. But between men like her superior officers, who don't believe she should be there at all, and men like George Luz, who keeps distracting her with those damn puppy eyes of his, that might be easier said than done.

Warnings: Mentions of war and death.

Tagging: @next-autopsy

As always, this fic is entirely about the fictionalized representations of the men of Easy Company that we see on the show. I mean no disrespect to the real men by writing this.

[Masterlist] [on ao3]

No tired sigh, no rolling eye, no irony - Part 6

If George thought he'd seen the most of what his friends could get up to, he was wrong: Easy Company's exploits during training were nothing compared to the fun they're getting up to once they've finally made it back to England for rest and recuperation. For the first two or three days, all they do is eat and sleep, then the carousing starts.

Somehow, with the memories of all they've been through still fresh on their minds - jumping into a burning sky, playing hide-and-seek with the Germans, crouching in muddy foxholes and watching men all around get mowed down - life feels all the more glorious for how fragile it is. It makes sleep difficult, after that first exhaustion is over, but it makes every sip of a drink taste all the sweeter, the joy of a dance all the more pronounced.

Except, to George's frustration, there isn't much dancing, at least not with the person he would like to dance with. Phyllis has been notably absent from the pub, and after their brief talk on the beach in Normandy, he hasn't seen or spoken to her. For a few days, he was getting worried she was still over there, perhaps moving deeper into enemy territory with some other battalion. It's only when he's sent to battalion HQ to drop off some papers and sees her following Colonel Sink down a corridor that that worry is laid to rest.

Still, after all the time he's spent imagining romantic reunions for them, one brief conversation behind a tent in Normandy and one glimpse of her in the distance are a poor substitute.

The problem is twofold, he comes to realize: For one thing, their current situation leaves him painfully unsure of where they stand. When she kissed him back in June, he thought it might mean the beginning of something new for them, something that could start now, with him freshly returned from battle, unharmed where many others didn't make it through at all. Now he's starting to wonder if he completely misread the situation and her kiss meant nothing of the sort. Perhaps it was just meant as a friendly gesture, for good luck? The thought stings, because as much as he values their friendship, the thought that she wanted something more, wanted him, has grown ever more alluring.

The other part of the problem is that he simply misses his friend.

So, when he catches himself brooding into his beer once again and spots her nurse friends on the other side of the pub, George decides to get to the bottom of this whole thing.

He tries to be casual about it - a bit of small talk, enquiries about how they did over there and how long they've been back - before he very nonchalantly inquires if they've seen or heard anything from Phyllis.

The nurses’ faces suggest that they see right through him.

“She was sent over there, rather unexpectedly, but she's back in town now,” Corinne explains.

“She hasn't really been out though, has she?”

George can hear the desperation creep into his voice, no matter how hard he tries to stop it. The women's faces soften with pity.

“She’s kind of keeping herself apart. You see, over in Normandy Sink put the fear of God in her, gave her a whole speech about how she'll be shipped off in disgrace if he hears so much as a rumor about her carrying on with the men. Now she has this silly notion that she'll only be safe if she stays away from you fellas altogether.”

“He did what? Why would he do that - did he misunderstand something? Did someone act inappropriate around her?”

Bernice shakes her head, laughing.

“Easy, tiger. There's no need to go around beating up imaginary villains. She simply asked how Easy was doing, and Sink apparently took that to mean that she had some kind of illicit affair going on with one of you.”

“Even if she did - how's that his business? She'd still be doing a better job than most of the men around her.”

George half expected to hear something he wouldn't like about Phyllis’ absence - but he wasn't prepared to hear something so utterly stupid and preposterous. Phyllis, letting herself get distracted by some sort of affair? What an idea.

“Well, you know how it is - no one cares what the men get up to in between the fighting. But as soon as a woman dares to want to contribute, everything she does is under scrutiny.”

He can empathize with the women’s annoyance, has heard enough about it from Phyllis to know how it grates on them to be constantly judged by a higher standard than the men. And now not only are those double standards putting a damper on Phyllis’ well-deserved rest time, but they’re keeping her from spending time with him.

The idea of walking right on over to battalion HQ and telling Sink what he thinks of his opinions concerning Phyllis’ behavior flashes briefly across his mind, but of course that would only cause more problems for her. He’ll have to settle for getting another beer and drowning his sorrows.

He's about to excuse himself when someone tugs at his sleeve to hold him back. It's Millicent, the usually so tough and pragmatic woman looking very soft for once.

“George? Give her time, alright? I'm sure she misses you too, but this work is important to her. You wouldn't do anything to risk losing your place with the Airborne either, would you?”

“No,” he sighs. “I wouldn't.” Then he doubles back to her earlier words. “You think she misses me?”

“Like a lost limb,” Millicent confirms, and George can't help the smile that spreads on his face despite the grim image.

“I'll have to do something about that then. But could you at least try and get her to come back here? Surely Sink won't punish her for simply having a drink with her friends?”

“I'll see what I can do. But you better reel in that enthusiasm - there's no need to scare her off now.”

***

Unfortunately, over the next few days, there’s still no sign of Phyllis, and George becomes increasingly despondent. Even his friends notice that he’s holding himself back, skulking around their barracks and dragging himself through training, his mood only brightening slightly in the evening when he hustles replacements at darts with their new Sergeant. Still, those brief moments of distraction aren’t enough to keep his moping at bay, until eventually, Bill loses his temper.

“Jesus, George, will you cheer up? We’re tryin’ to celebrate surviving a shitshow of an invasion here, and you look like your grandma died. What’s goin’ on anyway?”

George doesn’t have time to come up with an excuse before Tab pipes up.

“He’s lovesick, that’s what’s going on. His lady friend isn’t giving him the time of day, and he refuses to listen when I tell him there are other pretty fish in the sea.”

“She can’t be seen to be friendly with any of us, or Sink will send her home,” George explains.

To the guys’ credit, none of them have a smart remark to make about that.

“Why don’t you just write to her?” That contribution comes from an unexpected source: Webster, who’s been reading on his bed so quietly that they all kind of forgot he was there in the first place.

“Write to her,” George repeats.

“They have mail in England, you know.”

“Webster may be on to something there,” Bill muses, and it strikes George momentarily how weird it is to be getting combined romantic advice from these two men. “Just cause she can't be seen with you don't mean you can't have any contact at all.”

George has never been a great overthinker - he has an idea, he likes it, he puts it into practice. He jumps up and gets pencil and paper out of his footlocker, upending half of it in the process.

“Alright, so what do I write?”

Webster looks up from his book, which he apparently tried to continue reading.

“You know, I did have other plans for this afternoon.”

“What plans? You're just sitting here with a book.”

“Exactly,” Webster says peevishly, but he sighs and closes his book anyway. “You know, I don't think it will help you much if I tell you what to write.”

“Yeah, because he ain't getting any dames either,” Bill interjects with his braying cackle.

“No, because for the letter to really mean something to her it has to come from you. Why don't you just tell her that you miss her, and that since you can't talk to her in person, you'll have to do it via letter. And then you just tell her what you'd tell her if you met at the pub.”

“What, just normal everyday stuff? Shouldn't I write her a poem or something?”

“Do you know how to write poems?”

George slumps down on the foot of Webster's bed.

“‘course not. But I thought… Don't you have to write something real special, if you're writing to a girl?”

Webster ponders the question a little too long, which doesn't bode well for George - he might come to the conclusion that letter-writing really does require the kind of education George doesn't have. But then he just says:

“If she cares about you, anything you write will be special to her.”

For possibly the first time since he's known him, George fervently hopes that Webster's right. And why shouldn't he be? After all, George never has to pretend to be something else when he's with Phyllis in person. Why should that change when he's writing a letter?

Already feeling cheered, George plops back down on his own bed and picks up his pencil and paper.

“Attaboy,” Bill praises, then turns his attention to the card game some replacements are setting up a few beds over. Apparently, counseling George about his love life has ceased to provide him with entertainment.

George can't say that he minds. Tab is long gone and Webster has turned back to his book, so he can start writing in peace.

Dear Phyllis,

He hesitates. Dear Phyllis? Is that too familiar? Or perhaps not familiar enough?

Annoyed, George shakes his head. He's never going to get anywhere if he’s already getting stuck before he’s even started.

How have you been since you got back? I met your nurse friends at the pub, Bernice and Millicent and Corinne and Vera. They said you can't come out at the moment, so I figured if we can't talk, I'll just have to write to you.

To be honest, the writing was Webster's idea. I'm not sure if you know him - he's our literary man, he even went to Yale. He suggested I write to you, so I figured I'd give it a try.

I bet you're busy at headquarters - there's probably a lot to plan and organize, now that we've actually set foot into Europe. On our end, things are pretty quiet. We're doing drills and training during the day, getting the new guys up to speed, but there's still plenty of time for rest and recuperation.

A little too much, he thinks sometimes, but he doesn't mention it, doesn't want to sound ungrateful.

We lost a lot of men on D-Day, so they're bringing in replacements - and they're all so young and eager! They only got a fraction of the training we did, just a few months at Toccoa and the five jumps to earn their wings. I have no idea how they’ll manage on our next jump, and I know the others are thinking the same thing. Some of the Toccoa men won't give them the time of day because they figure they won’t make it very long. I understand where they're coming from, but I can't do it myself. Someone's got to show those green boys the ropes. Bill has practically adopted one, a fellow from Philly like him. I can't say that I'm ready for that yet, but I keep an eye out for them.

Still, it's easier with the Toccoa men, the ones who made the jump with me that night. They know what it's like. Nothing in training prepares you for that, you know.

He hesitates. If he keeps writing now, he'll spill out everything he's learned since that fateful night in June: That no matter how long you've prepared, how much weapons training and how many tactical manoeuvers you've gone though, nothing prepares you for the feeling of taking someone's life, and then having to keep going.

Anyway, that's about all I’ve got to tell right now . I hope you're doing well, and that they let you have some time for R&R as well. It won't do anyone any good if you run yourself into the ground, you hear me?

So, watch out for yourself, and maybe sometime soon I’ll see you at the pub again.

Even this close to finishing his letter, he still keeps getting stuck, this time on the question of how to end it. Briefly, he considers asking Webster for advice again, but Webster seems very entranced in his book, and anyway, he’s already told him: Write what he’d tell her if he was talking to her in person. But he’s not talking to her in person, that’s the whole problem, which means there’s one more thing he needs to write:

I miss talking to you.

Your friend, George

Actually sending the letter is almost more nerve-wracking than writing the damn thing, but there’s nothing to be done for it - if he can’t speak to Phyllis, he’ll have to do this before she forgets about him altogether.

***

Her reply comes three days later - two pages of a neatly written report on everything she’s been up to, from her short trip to Normany all the way back to Aldbourne, where the influx of replacements means a never dwindling pile of work to do, apparently.

And as if the long letter wasn’t reward enough, it ends with:

“I miss talking to you too.”

George feels like he’s walking on a cloud the entire rest of the day.

#band of brothers #george luz #band of brothers fic #george luz x oc #george luz/oc

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