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jade-parcels · 1 year

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I like to imagine Haitham as the kind of guy who would help out his cute neighbor… sfw (f!reader) 🌱

When he sees you carrying a ton of bags from the market, he’ll turn around to aid you, even if this trip will take him out of his way. Even when you assure him that you’ve got it, your strained expression tells him all he needs to know. He swiftly transfers the bags into his own arms, unfazed by the weight he’s carrying uphill and up the front steps of your home. He doesn’t get why you thank him so profusely, as if he’d saved your house from a fire or something. If he didn’t see this task as something worthwhile, he simply wouldn’t have stopped to help. It was a rational choice. One that was definitely not influenced by anything else.

When he sees you sweeping your front porch with a sprained hand, he heads across the street without a second thought (leaving Kaveh and his nagging behind). He doesn’t say a word, not even a ‘good morning’ as he takes the broom from your un-injured hand in order to complete the task for you. Only when he feels you staring in shock does he offer a hum of acknowledgment and a short ‘go back inside. I’ll let you know when I’m finished’. You want to stand there and keep him company… but you listen to what he says, going back inside in order to hide your flushed face. You offer him a snack as payment for his good deed and insist he takes it. So he does. After he’s done, he simply walks back across the street, disappearing and leaving you standing there as if he was never there at all. The only evidence of his presence was the clean porch…

When he sees a commotion down by the docks, a circle of people laughing as an unlucky person is swarmed by a bird. The bird squawks as it tries to grab whatever is in the poor person’s arms, presumably food, the thing only getting more aggressive as time goes on. Haitham sighs at the sight, bothered by the way no one attempts to assist this person. He nudges his way through the crowd, eyes widening as he realizes who this person is. It’s you. Calmly and quickly, he removes his cape, making his way over to slap the bird out of the air with the heavy fabric. Feathers fly and the bird hits the ground. Confused and disoriented, it gives up on attacking in favor of flying away, retreating to wallow in a tree elsewhere. Haitham turns towards the crowd, frowning at the spectators. “Shame on you all. How can you call yourselves men if you stand there and allow a lady to be attacked like that?” Before anyone can argue, he’s leading you away to check you for injuries in a less crowded area. His frown deepens at the scratch on your cheek and the other down your arm. He marches you up to the hospital, standing wordlessly by your side as you’re bandaged up. You can’t believe that he did all of that for you… he risked being scratched or bit just to help you- he even shamed those sailors… And when he took you home, he gave you fifty mora to cover the loss of whatever food you dropped whilst being attacked. He looked like he wanted to say something, like he didn’t want ti leave your side, but he left, looking over his shoulder to make sure you made it inside before going into his own home.

When he heads to the tavern, intending on playing cards with Kaveh and his buddies for awhile, he immediately finds his attention drawn towards you. You’re sat in a booth all alone, dressed up as if on a date- but judging by your slumped posture and diss appointed expression, he concludes that your date never showed up. He reasons with himself that it would be rude to leave you there, one can’t simply ignore a girl who looks miserable, nearly on the verge of tears. So, abandoning the idea of invocation tcg, Haitham easily slides into the booth across from you. You’re stunned, eyes wide as you try to ask what he’s doing. “You got all dressed up just for some fool to flake out on you. It would be a shame to waste all the effort you went through. We can share drinks and a dessert together” For good measure, he even reached across the table to hold your hand gently in his own. With your free hand, you wipe your tears away, allowing yourself to smile at the kind gesture. The scholar listened to you talk, bought you drinks as promised, told some stories of his own. At the end of the date he walked you home with his arm linked with yours. You noticed how he flushed a bright red and avoided making eye contact, his behavior much different than it had been back at the tavern. He hesitated at your door, seeming to contemplate his own actions before settling on something appropriate for a first date. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, warm breath fanning across your face. Maybe it was your imagination… but when he crossed the street back to his own house, he seemed to move a lot faster than usual (unbeknownst to you, he was sweating and shaking from nerves when he shut the door, pressing his back against it as he cringed at his own awkward behavior… get a grip haitham!!)

The next time he sees you, it’s to fulfill his own selfish desire. Not because you need him, because he needs you. After time spent thinking about your date, thinking about how you made him feel, he came to the conclusion that he loved you. He consulted books to help him decipher his feelings and had a short chat with Kaveh on the subject of love. It took a week for him to muster the courage to approach you again, worried that his awkwardness he displayed at the end of your date would have weirded you out. Finally, he headed out to find you. He knew you wouldn’t be home now, you’d be out buying something to make for dinner. With a sense of urgency, he made his way through the crowded market square. This time, you found him first. You touched his arm to get his attention and once you had it, he tugged you side to speak to you away from the crowd. He asked what you were up to… you showed him what you’d gotten so far. Naturally, he took your bags to carry for you. “I uh… I would like to invite you out. Perhaps tomorrow after I return from work, we can both get dressed up and go somewhere,” he offers, avoiding your gaze once again “Last time you were dressed up for someone else. You were waiting for someone else but I want to take you out… I want… I’d like to-“ for fuck’s sake, he finds himself stumbling- he never stumbles. This is the effect you have on him. “I want to be the one to take you on a date- a spontaneous outing where we could do anything you desire. I want to make you happy…” he bites the inside of his cheek to get himself to shut up, he almost can’t even bear to look at you after making such a big fool of himself. Then suddenly you’re on him, hugging him with that bright smile on your face, telling him how you’d love to go out together. He relaxes into your touch, resting his chin on the top of your head momentarily as he gathers himself. Tomorrow at eight, the two of you will do something. Maybe you’ll go out to eat, maybe you’ll see a show. Who knows… it’s fun to not have everything planned out sometimes.

A street no longer separates the two of you. Now, the only space between you is a few inches as you lay beside him in bed. His chivalrous behavior only continues as you live together. Haitham reaches for things for you, carries heavy things for you, holds doors for you. To him, it’s all rational. Of course he would grab a vase from the top shelf for you, you couldn’t reach it. Naturally, he would do the heavy lifting! Why else would he work out? And he would always hold the door for you because that’s what you do for someone you love. It’s simple. It’s logical. Love is a lot more logical than he thought it would be. It’s logical to make you breakfast in bed because you love when he does. It’s logical to live under one roof because if you didn’t, you would be going back and forth between houses all day. It’s logical to sleep in for five more minutes because holding you like this makes him feel like the luckiest man in the world.

#I’ll edit in the morning !!#genshin impact #genshin impact writing #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #he’s so 0_0 #f!reader

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melzula · 7 months

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The Search

part three

pairing: Zuko x Princess!reader

notes: we finally made it to the end of the search! hope you guys enjoy :) and as always i suggest reading the comics to better understand the series

summary: Zuko finally finds his mother, and the Princess is faced with complicated feelings for Azula

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

Your heart pounds rapidly in your chest as you will your legs to continue their sprint for as long as they can. The sun is beginning to set and the valley is growing darker, and you desperately hope Misu’s shortcut will get you to Noren’s soon before you’re too late.

So much had happened since your arrival to Forgetful Valley. From meeting the water tribe siblings Rafa and Misu to the Mother of Faces, it seemed your group was one step closer to finding Zuko’s mom. But after Azula had used the Mother’s one favor to uncover Ursa’s whereabouts, things had gone awry. She’d ruined Misu’s only chance of helping her brother and run off to confront Noriko, whose true identity had been revealed to be none other than the missing Fire Lady.

Now, you and Sokka found yourselves accompanying Zuko as your trio rushed to Hira’a in hopes you’d reach Noren’s house before his malevolent sister could.

“I can’t believe your mom was right under our noses this entire time,” Sokka says breathlessly.

“We couldn’t have known,” you reply from beside him. “All that matters now is getting to her first before Azula does.”

“We should be there soon,” your boyfriend assures you both. “I just hope we’re not too late.”

“We won’t be,” you comfort him with a reassuring smile, “you’re going to be with your mother again, Zuko. Sokka and I will help you see this through.”

“We’ve got your back, buddy.”

He flashes you a grateful smile, but he doesn’t have time to say much else as your trio finally reaches Noren’s house. The surrounding area is dark save for the warm light that floods out from the windows, and you cautiously approach the home with your guards up in case Azula is inside.

“It’s so quiet,” Sokka notes, club in hand and at the ready.

“Too quiet,” Zuko agrees before pressing himself against the wall of the home and peering into the open window.

“Do you see anything?” You whisper to the fire bender as you position yourself beside him.

“What’s going on in there?” Sokka presses. “Noren’s family… don’t tell me Azula-“

“No, they’re fine,” he breathes out in relief, “they’re eating dinner.”

“Thank spirits,” you exhale, the tension in your nerves immediately leaving your body once you know they’re safe. You were especially worried about Kiyi, so it relieved you to know no harm had come to her or her family. “It looks like Misu was right about that shortcut.”

The three of you peer in at the family who share smiles and food in the comfort of their home. They looked so normal, it was almost hard to believe that the woman inside was the lost Fire Lady.

“I’m going inside. Can you two keep an eye out for Azula?” Zuko asks.

“Sure, anything you need, Zuko” Sokka happily obliges.

You gently grab hold of his hand to halt his movements as he passes and give it a comforting squeeze. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I will be,” he says. “Will you?”

“Don’t worry about us, Sokka and I can handle Azula easily.”

“I know you can, Princess” he replies with a fond smile, gifting you an affectionate kunik before releasing your hand and heading inside.

“Good luck, my love,” you murmur quietly, turning your attention to the empty fields before you once the door is shut.

“How’re you holding up, Chief?” Sokka asks while surveying the area in search of any danger. “I overheard that nasty argument you had with Azula last night.”

“I know better than to let her get to me,” you reply thoughtfully, “but that doesn’t make her words any less hurtful. I’ve been dealing with Azula’s wrath since I was four, and it hasn’t gotten any easier.”

“I bet, but you’re one of the strongest people I know. If anyone can stand up to Azula, it’s you.”

“I’m not sure if I agree with that,” you sigh, and Sokka doesn’t miss the way your eyes fall scrutinizingly to the scars on your hands. Though the pain has faded and the physical damage has healed, you’ll never be able to forget what she’s done to you.

“Hey, you’re doing your best,” your friend consoles. “You’ve been nothing but supportive for Zuko this whole trip, that counts for something.”

“Thank you, Sokka,” you say with a meager smile. “I guess you’re right.”

“I always am,” he agrees proudly. “Besides, now that Zuko’s found his mother this whole thing will be over soon and we’ll never have to deal with Azula again.”

“Are you sure about that, peasant?” A mocking voice chimes, catching you and Sokka off guard. You’d been so engrossed in your conversation that you hadn’t even noticed the fire bender’s looming presence, and now there Azula stood before the two of you with a crazed look in her eyes and an itch to take you both down.

“You’re not hurting that family, Azula,” you warn her with a glower to which she merely chuckles slyly in response. “Leave them be.”

“Don’t you remember what happened the last time you fought me, Princess?” She mocks while gesturing to her hands. “Zuzu isn’t here to protect you, and Mother won’t be able to stop me from fulfilling my destiny, but I’m willing to show you water rats mercy if you get out of my way.”

“Fat chance,” Sokka retaliates, “you’re going down!”

“Suit yourself,” the Fire Princess hums with a meager shrug. “It’s more fun for me this way anyhow.”

A blast of flames is immediately shot in your direction, forcing Sokka and yourself to drop and roll out of the way to avoid being burned by her strike. Pushing yourself up off the ground, you spot a well in Noren’s backyard and quickly begin a sprint towards the water source. “Sokka, cover me!”

“I’ve got you covered, y/n!” the Water Tribe boy calls as he hurtles his boomerang unsuccessfully towards Azula. In the meantime, you peer inside the well to ensure it’s full of water before pulling out a long stream from within. With Azula’s back turned and her focus on Sokka, you use a water whip to sweep the girl off her feet so that she lands on the ground with a harsh thud.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you utter desperately, sincerity clear in your tone as you stand over her. Despite the hateful scowl on her face, you urge, “Let us help you, Azula. I know there must be some ounce of goodness in your heart, you can change!”

“Whatever you and Mother are planning against me won’t work. I will not be fooled!” She cries indignantly before kicking her feet out to send a burst of flames towards you. “Zuko may be foolish enough to fall for your tricks but I’m not.”

“Princess!” Sokka exclaims, rushing towards you and tackling you to the ground to prevent her flames from hitting you. “Are you crazy?! Why are you trying to reason with that psycho? You could have gotten yourself hurt.”

“I had to try,” you murmur to yourself, “I had to see for myself if there was any chance of redemption left for her.”

“We don’t have time for that now,” he urges while helping you up off the ground. “We have to stop her before she gets inside!”

Spotting her figure on the roof, you quickly create a blast of snow to propel Sokka and yourself onto the top of the house with her. Your sudden presence startles her, but she quickly regains her composure and begins to form a strike of lightening to hurtle at you both. However, before she can complete the move you send a blast of water across the roof that quickly freezes over into ice and traps her feet to the surface. Sokka promptly hurries over to the fire bender and grabs hold of her hands before maneuvering them behind her back so she can’t try to strike you.

“Let go of me, peasant!” She growls, thrashing violently in his grasp in an attempt to break free. With her feet stuck to the ice and her hands restricted Azula’s attempts at freedom are futile.

“He’s not a peasant,” you correct her firmly, “and you’re not getting out of this. I’ve done all I can to help you, to try and understand you, but it never seems to matter what I do. You’ve never liked me, even though for Zuko’s sake I hoped that one day you might.”

“Mother sent you to distract Zuko, to take my brother from me,” she remarks adamantly. “Everything was perfect after Ba Sing Se, but you made him weak!”

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about!” You exclaim in exasperation. Ever since your trip had started she’d thrown strange accusations your way that you couldn’t comprehend, and you didn’t understand why she perceived you as someone who was out to get her. If anything, you had always felt it was the opposite when it came to your relationship with Zuko’s sister.

“I should have finished the job when I had the chance,” she utters lowly, and as her eyes begin to hone in on your scarred hands a shiver of fear crawls down your spine. “I won’t make that same mistake again.”

A breath of fire blasts from her mouth straight towards you, and when you use the ice to form a barrier to block her attack she takes the opportunity to release herself from Sokka’s grip now that her feet are free. She shoves the boy backwards, and with lightening jolting between her fingertips she strikes a hole through the roof that causes the entire structure to cave in.

“Sokka!” You cry out, falling through the broken roof along with Azula. In a last ditch effort you send a blast of snow in his direction to break his fall, but you aren’t left with enough time to do the same for yourself. You slam onto the ground below you with a loud thud that has both Sokka and Zuko wincing. Your head hits the wood on impact and you’re knocked out cold, prompting Zuko to rush towards you only for Azula to send him flying across the room.

“I said get out of my way!”

“Check on y/n!” Sokka demands while helping the Fire Lord up from the floor. “I’ll deal with Azula.”

Disoriented from his sister’s attack, the boy stumbles over to your unconscious form and carefully pulls you out of the rubble. A small trickle of blood rolls down the side of your head as Zuko scoops you up into his arms and holds you carefully against his chest, making sure to be mindful of any possible injuries you may have from your fall.

“This is all my fault,” he murmurs quietly into your hair as he presses a careful kiss to the top of your head, “I shouldn’t have brought you into this.”

“Zuko!” Sokka calls, rushing over and carefully taking your sleeping figure from his friend’s arms. “I’ve got her, you take care of your mom.”

“Keep her safe,” he pleads, watching as Sokka rushes Noren and Kiyi out of the house.

Your still face is the last thing he sees before your group disappears into the cover of the night, and it’s what urges him to finally face off to his sister once and for all.

~~~

The waves that crash against the shores of Ember Island bring a sense of peace to the woman who stands with her feet in the sand and her eyes focused on the endless expanse of water. A quiet coo pulls her attention away from the sea and back to the newborn girl who lies nestled in her arms. Her beautiful golden irises stare up at her in awe, and the woman smiles warmly in response.

“Are you enjoying the family beach house, little fire ferret?” She hums, watching fondly as the child grabs onto her outstretched finger.

“Azula!” A voice calls from the balcony, and now her attention is fixed on the water bender who peers down at her from above. “Dinner is ready, won’t you come inside?”

“Of course, sister,” she smiles sincerely at the girl she had once hated with her entire being. “Elza needs to be put down for her nap anyhow.”

“She always sleeps better in her Aunt Azula’s arms,” her sister-in-law notes fondly. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

“As am I, y/n.”

“Azula,” you gasp the moment you wake from your dream, sitting up in bed only to immediately trigger a pounding ache in your head.

“It’s alright,” a voice shushes you as gentle arms carefully push you back down into bed, “you must be careful now. You took quite a fall.”

“Is Sokka alright?” You ask quietly, noting the dryness of your throat. “Zuko?”

“They’re both fine,” she comforts as you begin to adjust to your surroundings. The sunlight that shines through the windows doesn’t ease the ache you feel in your head, and it takes a moment for your eyes to focus on the person in front of you. “Zuko’s asleep, but he hasn’t left this room since we brought you in here.”

“Fire Lady Ursa?” You murmur as your eyes finally take in the sight of a woman’s gentle smile and kind features. “It’s really you, isn’t it?”

“It is,” she replies thoughtfully, but the look in her eyes seems to suggest that she isn’t sure of her own answer. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Zuko has told me so much about you.”

“Same here,” you reply with a meager smile. “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name I’ve heard in all those stories.”

“I can’t begin to express how grateful I am for all you’ve done for my son,” Ursa expresses earnestly while gently pushing back the hair from your face. “Thank you for taking care of him when I couldn’t.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that. I love your son more than anything, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Zuko.”

“He’s very lucky to have you,” she notes with a gentle smile, and once you’re able to carefully sit yourself up in bed she offers you a cup of water that you greedily finish in a matter of seconds. “I’ll fetch you some more water, but in the meantime you rest. You don’t want to hurt yourself any further.”

You watch with a careful smile as Ursa leaves the room, but a quiet call of your name has you turning to look at the chair across from you. You’d been too engrossed and in awe of Ursa’s presence to notice Zuko at first, but it’s hard to miss him now that he’s at your bedside quickly checking you over for any wounds or injuries.

“Are you hurt?”

“I have a bit of a headache and my limbs feel a bit sore, but I’m alright,” you assure him. Sighing, he carefully allows his forehead to fall gently against yours in search of comfort and reassurance that you’re really okay.

“It’s my fault this happened to you,” he utters dejectedly. “So far every time I’ve asked you to help me deal with my sister it hasn’t ended well. I shouldn’t have stopped you from returning home and asked you to come to Hira’a.”

“Zuko, this isn’t your fault in the slightest,” you argue with a frown as you gently take his face in your hands and prompt him to look at you. “I came with you to Hira’a because it’s my job as your girlfriend to support you. You’re my other half, and when you need my help I’m supposed to be there for you. Your sister is unpredictable, but I knew the risk I was taking when I agreed to travel with her, and what happened to me was just one of those risks come to fruition.”

“I just hate seeing you get hurt,” he laments quietly before carefully pulling you into a hug.

“I know, but I’ll be okay as long as you’re there to look after me.”

“I always will be,” he promises, nothing but pure love and adoration in his eyes as he looks upon your tired face.

“So what happened while I was out? Where’s Azula?”

“She ran away. Sokka, Aang, and Katara searched Forgetful Valley for hours while I watched over you but there’s no sign of her. We’ll just have to keep looking.”

“And your mother? How did she get her face back?”

“The Mother of Faces returned it to her and restored all of her old memories. I told her she didn’t have to, she had a peaceful life here as Noriko, but she did it anyway.”

“Well I’m sure Azula will turn up at some point or another. I don’t think she’d give up that easily,” you say thoughtfully. “As for Ursa, I’m glad you finally have your mother back Zuko. I know how much this all means to you, and I know how much more peaceful life will be for you now that you’ve found her.”

“Thank you, but I couldn’t have found her without your support,” he expresses earnestly before leaning in to give you a loving kiss.

~~~

“Please, please, please do it again, y/n!” Kiyi pleads while tugging at the skirt of your dress. With delighted laughter spilling past your lips, you can’t help but relent to the little girl’s pleas.

“Alright, just for you,” you tell her before taking the cup of water she eagerly hands you and concentrating on your next move. Drinking the water from the cup, you take your time swishing the liquid around in your mouth for dramatic effect before using the coolness of your breath to transform it into snow and blow out a flurry of snowflakes into the air. Kiyi’s shrieks of delight fill the atmosphere as she runs around trying to catch the snow, and from the shade under the tree Zuko and Ursa watch the scene with matching smiles on their faces.

“She’s wonderful, Zuko,” Ursa compliments, a small laugh leaving her at the sight of Kiyi and yourself catching snowflakes on your tongues.

“She is,” he agrees with a fond smile.

You’d never been able to get along with Azula no matter how hard you or Zuko tried to force it, so it was a nice change of pace to see you get along with his other little sister. He finally felt that sense of family he’d been searching for all this time since becoming Fire Lord, and he was grateful to have you as a part of it. He only hoped that with time you could grow your family together.

“It warms my heart to see you’ve found your other half. I hope you’re able to cherish your love forever.”

“I will,” he says earnestly, and it’s a promise he makes to himself and to his Princess.

You are his other half, and your love will stand the tests of time forever.

| zuko tag list: @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @coldlilheart @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @taeeemin

| fire lilies taglist: @titaniafire @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 @brown-eyed-thang @xapham @misnmatchedsox @chewymoustachio @that-bucket-hat-gal @chilifrylizard2 @kyomihann @kaylove12 @kiwihoee @freggietale @moon-spirit-yue @bubblegum-bee-otch

| atla taglist: @sirkekselord @chronic-daydreamer-blog

#fire lilies #the search #zuko #zuko x reader #zuko imagine #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko imagine #prince zuko #zuko x princess!reader #atla #atla x reader #atla imagine

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ivystoryweaver · 3 months

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Spectre

A Moon Knight Halloween Love Story

Event #10: A Quiet Place

prev | Fic Masterlist | My Masterlist

Summary: You and Steven get a few more answers before he takes you home and shows you how much he's missed you.

Pairing this chapter: Steven Grant x f!reader

A/n: I know I promised Jake, but I switched the order of 2 chapters, and I promise you'll like this one!

Word count: 2.1k

Content: exposition again, domestic fluff, steven gets to shine, fingering, p in v, bit of language, not beta'd

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

PREVIOUSLY on Spectre…

"Ms. Marjorie, why does she look the same? What happened to her body?”

"When I cast the spell on her," Ms. Marjorie explained, leaning forward on her elbows, "It's like I froze time for her. She is exactly the same as the night she died, except no longer in her old body."

She turned to you, smiling softly. “Their love essentially made you…materialize, just as they perceived you to be. I really don't know a better way to explain it."

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

“Let me get this straight,” Steven said. “This shop completely vanished, o-or I was hallucinating. What is actually going on here?”

"As I said, it’s Halloween," Ms. Marjorie explained. "Not a holiday you’d associate very closely with love, I suppose, but - you see - love is the most powerful magic in the world.

“Your lovely partner here wasn’t haunting you, as you’ve told me Mr. Spector feared,” she went on. “She was simply suspended between the world of the living and the dead."

“Then, why were you pretending to work here?” Steven inquired, gesturing around him animatedly. “What even is this place?”

“My shop," she simply replied.

"But...it disappeared," Steven argued. "When I needed answers most, it wasn't here."

"Ah yes," Ms. Marjorie smiled warmly. "When you needed answers most," she nodded your way, "you found her. When you were ready." She shrugged, beginning to tidy up the tea cups and saucers. "The rest was all a bit of witchcraft, nothing more."

You pondered your words for a moment before smiling fondly. "Thank you, Ms. Marjorie, for everything. You and Steven - both of you saved my life.”

"I fudged a spell that was meant to save your life, but if it turned out well in the end, then I suppose I did some good and for that, I am grateful," she chuckled.

"And we are grateful as well," Steven chimed. "Thank you for helping me, and for your kindness, but I do believe I may need to ask you one more favor."

"What is that, Steven?"

Steven took a deep breath. “The man who killed my partner. Do you know anything about him? Did you see anything else?”

“Nothing that will be of much help, I’m afraid. not that night anyway. But something mystical is at work here. Your grandmother called out to me because she sensed your danger from beyond. She’s connected to all this somehow.

"But enough time spent with an old lady. Go on and enjoy yourselves," Ms. Marjorie instructed, gazing at you pointedly. "Enjoy life."

"Thank you again." You stood, giving the older woman a warm embrace. "You’re an angel to me."

"Oh I doubt that," Ms. Marjorie chuckled. "But happy to help."

Golden-hued trees, late autumn sunshine and the changes that had infiltrated in your hometown over the last few months took your breath away as you passed them by.

Steven glanced over at you worriedly, reaching for your hand.

"This is all so unbelievable," you uttered, awestruck. "It's like I'm in some other universe. It's magical. But it's a lot."

“I can’t believe it either. We should get you some things from the drug store, but someone might see you. Maybe I should take you home first, and come back,” Steven suggested.

“No. No, I don’t want to be alone. I’ll just come with you,” you quickly protested, your racing heart reminding you just how alive you really were.

By the time you gathered some necessities and checked out at the drug store, Steven noticed you seemed a bit glassy eyed and short of breath.

"Let's go home, love," he said softly. "I've got you."

Back in your kitchen, you eased down on a chair, watching Steven carefully as he unloaded the bags from the store and put on the kettle.

"We'll order you some things online. Some clothes - whatever you want."

He watched you for a response, but you hadn't said much since you walked into the drugstore earlier.

Kneeling down in front of you, he reached for your hand. "Darling, I know this is all...impossible. But I'm here."

You nodded, mutely.

A line of concern creased his forehead as he chewed on the corner of his lip. But he was determined to take care of you. A few moments later, he set your favorite tea in front of you, despite the fact that you drank some with Ms. Marjorie.

The tea comforted you almost as much as when Steven brought Jeremiah to sit on the table beside you.

"I'm sorry," you finally uttered, tracing your finger over the cool glass of the fish bowl. "It...I think it feels too good to be true, it can't be true. It can't be."

"That's the way I've always felt about you, love," he sweetly returned, warm, earthy eyes locking with yours. "An absolute wonder, you are."

"Steven..." you whispered, your heart - your entire body so full of love an awe. "I think my head might explode if I think about this any harder," you confessed.

Steven brilliantly distracted you for the remainder of the afternoon and evening. He put on the most mundane documentary - just enough to hold your slight interest but keep everything calm.

Then he got the laptop and helped you pick out some basic clothes from your favorite store. They would arrive tomorrow because he paid for expedited shipping.

When your mind would start to wander, he would take the laptop and pull you close, even kiss you deeply. Once the documentary ended, he read to you for a little while.

The people on your street and the surrounding ones knew you had passed away, so not too many trick-or-treaters rang the doorbell, hoping not to disturb Mr. Spector, but Steven was prepared with a couple of bags of candy from the drugstore. You stayed out of sight as to not give the young ones a real fright.

The next time the doorball rang, it was for a dinner delivery, which somehow seemed like the most delicious thing you'd ever eaten. Before long, you grew sleepy, simply because existing was so damn draining. At least today.

You felt a little distant from Steven, not because there was anything wrong between the two of you, but because you hadn't spoken to him much all afternoon.

Still, he'd given you exactly what you'd needed. Just enough mental stimulation to keep your mind from wandering and getting overwhelmed. Just enough tenderness to make you feel special.

You ended the day feeling cherished, with a full belly. And you had clothes, shoes and other necessities on the way.

"I feel like I bored you to death on my first day alive," you finally joked after brushing your teeth.

"You know that could never be true," Steven refuted, wiping his mouth with a towel before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Thank you for today," you said seriously, wrapping your arms around his neck as you stared deeply into his eyes. "You're like a touchstone. I feel so safe with you."

"I would do anything to keep you safe," he whispered against your lips, taking them captive for a tender but sensual kiss, squeezing your hips possessively. "Come on, love, let's get you to bed."

"I slept a lot today. I really am boring," you joked.

"Oh we won't be sleeping," he cheekily returned, goosing your ribs which made you squeal.

Whatever slight distance you had felt with Steven evaporated once you were in bed, as he gathered you to the warmth of his chest and slotted his mouth against yours. Hungry hands gripped the t-shirt he'd slid over your head not ten minutes ago as he kissed you until you both needed air.

"Can't even say how much I've missed you," he murmured, pushing his fingertips over the curve of your back, easing your shirt upward. His thumbs grazed the sides of your breasts, underneath your arms, causing your breath to stutter.

"Tell me to stop and I will," he went on, sampling your lips one at a time, only pausing when pulling the shirt over your head interrupted you.

His eyes flickered down to your mouth, then your chest as he licked his lips. "Never thought I'd see you this way again."

You swallowed hard, your breath quickening under his hungry gaze.

"You alright, darling?" He smiled gently, brushing his hand across your collarbone. "Too much?"

"No," you breathed out - your fingers twisting through his curls as you pulled your bare chest flush against his cotton-covered one, sharing his breath as your body bloomed with desire. You tugged his hair a little too hard, desperate to somehow drag yourself closer still.

"Missed that," he moaned out, smiling against your cheek even as he rushed to get his own t-shirt off.

Your lips fused together again as the heat of his bare chest, the sweet warmth of his breath in your mouth - the soft seduction of his tongue tasting yours - and the possessive grip as he slid his hands once more up the curve of your back - set your body aflame with need.

Steven was clear that he wanted you, but still, he took his time - every nip of his teeth, soothed with the heat of his tongue. Every desperate grip eased into a seductive caress, and when his fingers finally slid between your legs - when he found the core of you hot and wet for him - he caressed you only once before pressing his forehead to yours.

"Let me make you mine again," he begged, fingertips twitching with the need to touch you - the thick outline of his bulge pressed hungrily against your bare thigh.

"Steven," you gasped, his possessive claim making you wild with desire. Your legs fell open as he coaxed you open, plunging his tongue in your mouth and two fingers deep inside you.

Your hungry moan spurred him on as he fingered you just the way you liked. Steven was all sweet seduction. It was fun to make him whimper, but he could really pull you apart when he wanted to.

But tonight wasn't about anything but cherishing you, here, alive.

So, as you worked him free of his pajama pants and stroked the velvet length of him, you found that you didn't want him to take his time. Not tonight. Just in case.

"Please, Steven," you sweetly begged him, tugging him seductively while grinding against his hand. "Need you inside."

He groaned at your touch, and your hunger to feel him, relieved that it wasn't too much for you. Soon enough, your remaining clothes were discarded and Steven climbed on top of you, caging you in with his surprisingly strong forearms. His biceps flexed deliciously as he held up his weight, positioning himself perfectly.

He knew your body as well as his own - better, maybe, since he shared his body. Without another thought, or a hand to guide him, he pushed inside you, tilting his hips exactly how he knew -

"Oh fuck Steven..." you gasped, your back arching off the bed.

Your partner knew how to please you, hitting that spot that only familiar lovers could find so easily - like the steps of a well-rehearsed dance.

"My beautiful girl," Steven breathed against your neck, between spine-tingling open-mouthed kisses laid seductively on your throat.

Slow, devastatingly deep thrusts made you whimper with both satisfaction and yearning.

"Stay here with me," he begged, hands touching you all over, finding a home on the curve of your hips as he worked himself in and out of you with fierce possessiveness. "Stay with me. Please stay..."

You whimpered his name, gripping the breadth of his shoulders as your bodies twisted, hot and wet and alive, faster and deeper until he spilled inside you only seconds after your body seized in absolute rapture, clenching him with your velvet warmth.

Steven kissed you messily, hungry and sated at the same time, hips slowing and finally stopping as his weight dropped down, caging you in. He quickly attempted to pull away, as to not crush you, but you slung your leg around his thighs and held him there.

"Stay," you echoed his plea from earlier. "Stay right here. Stay inside. I need you." You murmured plea tickled his ear, making him shiver with desire, even though he felt sated.

"Likely to crush you love." You felt him smile against your neck, his damp curls tickling your cheek. "But I'll stay right here as long as you want."

"Forever, Steven."

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

You jolted awake - your dreams vivid and intense once again. Cool air kissed your skin where you kicked off your comforter, finding yourself alone in bed, still naked after making love with Steven, but clean. He must have woken up and taken care of a few things.

"Steven?" You called out, sitting up, attempting to push down the anxiety stirring in the center of you. Maybe he was in the bathroom.

Drawing a cleansing breath, you tried to steady your breathing. Damn dreams.

"Steven?" You tried again, but before you could push yourself off the bed, you heard someone else.

"Cálmate, mi amor."

The smooth voice of your partner washed over you as you blinked, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

"J-Jake?"

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

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songbirdseung · 2 months

Text

blurred hearts / park sunghoon ft. sim jake

synopsis: I can't wait for the next life to be with you, i want you now and forever. what can I do to have you see me the way you see him?

pairing: bestfriend!sunghoon x reader, boyfriend!jake x reader, love triangle

warnings: one sided love, relationship troubles, lmk if i missed anything.

wc: 2.3k

masterlist

Your upset best friend, Park Sunghoon hangs up the phone for the third time this week. You called late at night to ramble, rant and cry about your boyfriend who has not been the best towards you these days. The other days of the week were spent face to face, you; running over to his house to ramble, rant, and cry about the same thing. With the messy emotions boiling within you, you fail to notice the same messy whirlpool of emotions swimming in Sunghoon; the man who remains stuck in the friendzone.

"Why don't you just break up with him?" He says as he hands you another box of tissues. "You don't understand, I love him."

"You'd know how it would feel if you loved someone the same way I love Jake." He looks at you as you wipe your tears, seeing you in this state for a past few weeks has given him another reminder why he wants to protect and care for you.

"I do love someone, maybe even more than the way you love Jake" Oh, how he wished he could cast a spell over you to stop crying over your boyfriend and wake up and see what was right next to you, him, Sunghoon.

"Who's that?" This time you actually stop and look at him for the first time again since you opened the door for him. He shakes his head indicating how he won't tell you. "I did not come here to discuss my love life while yours is in shambles." and with what he said, you start crying again, lightly shoving him "Then why did you say it, gosh I hate you." Not effected by your emotional and physical jab, he laughs it off and pulls you into a hug "I love you too."

Back at his house, he knew you were right. It doesn't matter if the odds are not in your favor, it doesn't matter if the other person is hurting you emotionally, if you love them...you stay because apparently love is blind.

Sunghoon lays in his bed as he tries to fall asleep, his head turns to the left to look at the picture frame with a photo of you and him during your vacation after high school graduation.

The two of you got permission from both of your parents to go to Switzerland together, you traveled for the first time, just you two. Luckily you did not get lost or had any bad experiences and made yourselves back home in one piece. The picture reminded him always of that core memory you two had but also reminded him of when the kind lady who took the picture for you calling you two a cute couple, you were about to correct her, but Sunghoon just said thank you and joked about how he can't wait to marry you when you both are older.

Sighing as he turned off the lamp, bitterly going to sleep as he realizes that that may never happen, as long as you're under Sim Jake's love spell.

He's sleeping alone with his weighted blanket while you were cuddled up with your boyfriend. Jake was always the cookie cutter, picture perfect, straight out of a rom com (written by a woman) type of man.

The past week just seemed like an off day for you both, a misunderstanding and conflict that caused you to keep running to your best friend. "I'm sorry for the past week baby, I did not mean to make you feel the way you did." Jake soothes you by caressing your back as you lay you head on his chest. "I'm sorry for projecting my work issues on you, I don't know why I let myself do that."

"It's okay, I totally understand. I mean I would get mad at anyone too if my boss was a complete asshole." You both share a chuckle and Jake kisses your forehead, falling asleep to each other's warmth and presence.

The next day after work, you made your way to the main exit of the building and you find both of the men waiting for you outside, leaning against their cars. "I didn't know you and douchebag made up" Sunghoon was never fond of Jake, he would tell you how he could see pass his "good boy" facade, Jake on the other hand never understood how Sunghoon could hate him when they barely exchanged a few hellos back then. "Dude, I-" you walk up to Jake quickly asking him to just leave it. "Baby, don't. It's okay, He didn't mean it."

"Yes, I did." Sunghoon says, not sparing a glance at the both of you. "Sunghoon, why are you here? and what's with the attitude?"

"I thought to pick you up since you and lover boy were not on good terms, but I guess you two made up." He tries to play off the jealousy by shrugging and having a nonchalant look on his face as he enters his car. "See you around, yeah?" Without waiting for a reply he drives away.

"That best friend of yours really hates me" Jake draws little circles on your back as he pulls you closer for a hug. "I guess after all the times you've made me cry the past week, it's safe to say, yes he does."

He laughs, looking unbothered by it "As long as you're always gonna be mine" he says as he opens the passenger side door for you. "Always."

The car ride home was better than the last time he picked you up, now there was less tension and back to normal. His free hand holding yours while stealing kisses from you during a red light or a stop sign. "Why don't we head to the store, pick up a few things and drive home to have a game night?" Jake suggested. "Let's make sure this game night, stays as game night, alright lover boy" teasing him with the nickname Sunghoon called him earlier. "You know the name Loverboy doesn't bother me, love." shaking your head, you just continue to watch Jake drive you both to the store safely.

Meanwhile back at the bar, Sunghoon is seated next to his friends Heeseung and Jay. "You know, Sunghoon...I hate to say this but-"

"Shut up, I know you're gonna tell me I don't have a shot with yn"

"Oh, so you do know but still decide to be an idiot?"

"We might as well record our same old advice and you could replay it every time you're back in this situation." He rolls his eyes and shoves Jay's face away from his. "You guys are such 'great' friends" the other men laugh and nudge Sunghoon. "We are only joking but also, it's the truth man, I know you like her a lot but she's happy with Jake."

"Also, he's not that bad of a guy, I used to work with him." Heeseung shares a short story on Jake. But this doesn't change Sunghoon's outlook on him. "Clearly jealousy is clouding your judgment" Jay takes away the drink from Sunghoon and reminding him he has work tomorrow.

"Wait, have you ever tried confessing to yn?" He shakes his head, telling them how it was clear that you never liked him. "Really? I remember her telling me in college that she had a crush on you when we were in-" not caring about the rest of Jay's story, he books it out of the bar and heads to your house. "Great, you made him delulu, thinking he can pull her now" Heeseung and Jay laugh seeing their friend stumble out the chair and run to his car.

Yes, he was still sober, but he was drunk on you. As he drives, he's thinking about all those times back in college, wondering if you really had a crush on him back then. But as he pulls into your driveway, he spots Jake's car in the garage, oh how lovely.

Nonetheless, he's at your door, ringing the doorbell. "Hello how-" Jake's sentence was cut short once he sees who's at the door. "I need to talk to yn" Sunghoon enters your house, not looking at Jake and just makes his way over to you. "Okay..." Jake awkwardly closes the door and goes over to you.

"Woah, Sunghoon what are you doing here?"

"He said he wanted to talk to you, So, I'll give you to some privacy. I'll be in the room, love." Kissing you and walking away. To this, Sunghoon looks away but rolls his eyes. Once he hears the bedroom door close, he jumps into action. Sitting next to you on the floor that was decorated with blankets, fairy lights, and snacks. The tv screen illuminated by the game you put on pause.

"Jay told me you had a crush on me back in college, that true?" You blink more than you usually do, bewildered on why that made him come over so suddenly. "Well, yeah but only for like a month?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" You think back to the time, and you remember the day you did see him in a different way. "I think it was just because I just got dump by that guy I was seeing, after that I kind of reminisced about how different you two would treat me." You looked at Sunghoon who was waiting for the direct explanation, so you continued. "You always treated me like a princess and reminded me how worthy I was, so I guess during that month I started developing feelings for you."

"And?"

"I didn't do anything about it because that same month, you started dating that one girl from your class." At this point, Sunghoon was now wishing he just stayed for the rest of Jay's story. "Why did you rush all the way here, also, were you drinking?"

"Maybe..I was with Jay and Heeseung."

"Answer my question.

"I did"

"The first question, Hoon"

"I don't remember what it was."

"Don't bs me, you're not drunk" He sighs and quickly thinks on an excuse to give you. "I was so curious, that's all, besides I was driving home, thought I stop by" you weren't convinced in the slightest, but you know there was no more budging this dude, so you nod and tell him whatever.

A little later Sunghoon goes back home, and Jake comes back into the living room. "What was that about?" Sitting back down in his spot and picking up his controller. "He found out I had a small crush on him back in college before you and I dated, he was curious..."

"Well, yeah the guy has a huge crush on you now, maybe he thought you were-"

"Wait what?"

"Oh, c'mon babe, it's so obvious." You pause the game again and face your boyfriend, waiting for more explanations. "I'm a dude, he's a dude, I basically know he likes you based off on how he acts, especially around me with you." Still not believing it, Jake suggests you call him, being direct and just ask him. So, you do, he hands you your phone and you dial his number.

When you call, Sunghoon has just entered his house and locked the door when he hears your ringtone. Picking up and he immediately wants to go run and hide. "Do you like me, Sunghoon?"

"Of course, you're my best friend. Of course-"

"Not platonically, Sunghoon. Do you have feelings for me?"

"What you gonna do if I do?"

As much as he wants you to drop that boyfriend of yours and be with him, he knows it too selfish to take you away from your happy relationship. But with the number of times where he put you first before his own self, was we wishing you would do so? "You know what, yn let's forget about it, I don't want to ruin what you have with Jake" then hangs up the phone. "So?" Jake looks at you with 'I told you so' look, making you glare at him. "He does..."

"You'll probably have to talk to him seriously next time you guys meet" this time when you pick up your controller, you don't have the same excitement you had before, now you're nervous and scared that you might have just lost your best friend. "I'm sorry I even brought that up, now you're in this predicament."

"No, babe. It's fine, it's better I find out than never."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to help him move on?" confused with your own answer that it came out as a question. "That'll be awkward."

And for sure it was, because the next two days Sunghoon manage to dodge you and hide away, but those victories of avoiding you ends now. You stand at his front door. With the help of Jay and Heeseung, you three manage to plan something to get him to come out of his house. Sunghoon got ready to meet Jay but when he opened the door to leave, he saw you. "We need to talk."

"What is there to talk about? Yn, you know now that I like you but there's nothing you can do about it." Sunghoon tries to walk past you to get to his car but when he looks in the driveway, his car isn't there. "Jay took your car but don't worry, you're coming with me." Taking his arm and bringing him to your car. "I don't understand how you say I can't do anything about it when-"

"It's not like you're going to break up with Jake to be with me yn, you love him. You don't love me that way, I can't just force you to." You stop walking and face him again. "I can't get you to fall for me by making moves on you because that's not fair to Jake and you. So please, just forget about it."

He gently removes your hand off him and fixes his jacket. "Just go home yn" you try to walk close to him, but he just backs up, away from you. "Sunghoon, I don't want to lose you."

"But yn, I already lost you years ago." He takes your silence a chance to retrieve back into his house and locking the door behind him. The barrier keeping you two apart.

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen au #engene #enha #enhypen x reader #jake #sunghoon #sim jake #park sunghoon #sim jaeyun #sunghoon au #enhypen sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon imagines #enhypen jake #jake enhypen #jake sim imagines #jake sim x reader

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circinuus · 1 year

Note

I just got this idea and I’m so excited to share it, can you do dazai with a seductive & intelligent reader who acts cheerful to deceive others with her “innocence”? How would she and dazai act, would they have intellectual talks and debate with each other on controversial matters, would they plan, observe or strategize together? Would dazai attempt to fluster her? + spice headcannons please :)

dazai with a "charming" reader

1.1k words. fem! reader

[unestablished relationship; reader is lowkey manipulative; sadly no spice bc i can't write them :') ]

❥ thank you for sharing nonnie i love the idea so much!! fingers crossed i'm going in the right direction with this.

You're no one important; a new secretary freshly accepted into the Armed Detective Agency, not any less nice and compassionate than Miss Haruno or Cafe Uzumaki's lovely waitress.

‎

You're such a sweet thing. You even looked genuinely concerned when our local suicidal man threw a suicide offer! A perfect package: You embody a charming person who is compassionate and caring to her colleagues; very devoted to her job; topped with a benevolent personality. It shows through the good-natured "How are you," the cups of coffee you fetch for everyone to start the day, and the generous offers of paperwork assistance (which Dazai failed to accept before Kunikida starts berating you for being 'too nice').

‎

You're so kindhearted that your actions seem to revolve around everyone else. But Dazai is smart enough to see how in truth, it was the other way around.

‎

You're not in the office? Everyone notices and is worried about your absence. Atsushi second-guessing himself? You're so agreeable and encouraging; so much so that he came to trust you more than he trusts himself. Is Ranpo being reluctant in a case? "Ranpo-san," you tilt your head, "This case is definitely too trivial to be handled by a detective of your caliber. But I trust The Greatest Detective more than anyone else." It didn't need Ranpo more sweet briberies to get him on and going to the crime scene.

"I stand with Kyouka, President," It was a fine afternoon in the agency. Your sentence rings firm as you make your stance beside the kimono-clad young lady.

"Surely, every person in this city has the right to amend themselves." you continue—with the usual undying conviction and hope in your irises.

Fukuzawa's expression resembles something of sharpened surprise-then wariness. Though it quickly melts away to subdued neutrality when he sees it was you—a mere kindhearted secretary—who spoke such a merciful sentence. Kyouka is accepted into the agency without anyone else necessary to speak up for her.

Naturally, defending a scared, lost, and misguided child—not innocent, but a child—was the most empathetic, compassionate thing someone can do. And yet,

"You're such a horrible person, (Name)."

Dazai Osamu's sweet smile plays a contrast against his cutting words. Several hours have passed since your little persuasion. Now you find yourselves sharing a table with the agency's ladies' man in the quiet cafe.

You shot a brief glance to the counter; it isn't hard to know Dazai had chosen an hour when even the cafe owner is momentarily absent.

"I am?" your gaze returns to his. And his brown eyes crinkle in astute amusement.

"You never really trusted Kyouka, didn't you?"

Your silence doesn't serve much of denial, so Dazai continued.

"That's smart. You speak in her favor because 'enemies' will work harder to gain 'our' trust. You don't trust her yet, but you put her in a spot where she will be more inclined to prove herself as a loyal ally."

"And maybe even more loyal than you, don't you say, (Name)?"

What's this? A question of loyalty? His implication is dangerous. But you fold your hands unabashed, resting your chin on them.

"Go on."

Dazai raises a brow. You return it with a sweet, closed-eye smile.

"You're just like a dream, Dazai," the syllables of his name pleasantly roll on your tongue. "Being understood this well—it's like a dream come true."

Your eyes lock his, undaunted. "Don't you think so too?"

Another silence, so thick and suffocating Dazai's now sharp gaze might cut through it.

"No?" a light titter escapes your throat. With shoulders not at all taut nor your gait on edge, you stare at afternoon's last rays from the quaint window of the cafe.

"That's too bad. To think I considered that suicide offer thing you mentioned when we first met. It seems I was mistaken about you."

Something about your tone isn't genuine. But what is not genuine is not always untrue.

The day Kyouka joined the agency marked the day two individuals somewhat similar, but starkly different acknowledged each other. Trust will be something more complicated to share, but that will be a problem solved by the march of time.

‎ ‎

Everyone notices how Dazai acts more amicably and clingy the day after. The attempts of flirting and flustering come back tenfold, in which you all but respond with an indulgent laugh or occasional witty words that won't get Kunikida too pressed. Perhaps Dazai has gotten more comfortable after knowing your true nature, or he rather keep you at an arm's length to keep a better eye on you. That will be a question only the man himself can answer.

‎

"You know, I've always been curious," you murmur to your flute, golden champagne swirling under the setting sun.

But the mutual understanding is present. God knows how untrusting and secretive Dazai can be with his plans. The moments you get to work together are represented by the knowing glances and silent nods during dire times when quick understandings are needed. Your relationship is delicate. There is now a degree of trust. But the two of you still tiptoe around each other, second-guessing what the other might have up their sleeves.

"About what?" Dazai, clad in a formal suit hums to his own glass, gaze still fixed on the same sunset you have in your eyes.

The three-way conflict with the Guild and the virus incident almost cost you Yokohama. One would think colleagues who worked through hell and back to save their city would have fully trusted each other by now. You got his back and he got yours; he saved your life and you saved his. But you aren't a fool. Dazai doesn't truly trust you. Dazai doesn't truly trust anyone.

"What are you looking for, Dazai? What are you looking for in this life?"

You look at his side profile. Dazai Osamu is an enigma, one you've spent so much time figuring out.

"You're looking for something. Something more than you expect. But someone must've told you the truth already; you'll find nothing. So why still persevere?"

This time, it's his silence that serves as neither a denial nor an answer.

The distant noise of the victory banquet calls; its joyous tone unfit for the heavy atmosphere you and Dazai shared. You let out a defeated exhale.

"Are you still looking for a beautiful woman to have suicide with?"

You'll let him open up when he's ready, you think. It isn't fair for both of you.

"Are you changing your mind?" He beams. "Could it be? Have you finally fallen in love with me?!"

S.S. Zelda sways gently on the still waters. Dazai's expression is coated with his usual playful facade. You hold his gaze as soon as it falls to yours. Just subtly, it slowly shifts to something more solemn.

"Who knows?" you close your eyes, lips dancing in a vixen smile.

It's tiring, but sure. You'll play this game just a little bit longer. After all, all the good things come to those who are patient.

i just realized these sound more like scenarios than hcs. welp.

♡ @ashthemadwriter

#bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader

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visceravalentines · 1 year

Text

solicitation

Murph Connors x AFAB!Reader

IT'S HERE BABES. AT LAST. this was so so far outside of my comfort zone but i'm finally happy with it I think. thank you for your patience and your love for this silly goofy guy. I just adore him and I hope you do too.

You go undercover as a sex worker, determined to nail the Major Crimes Unit for their casual disregard for the law. Unfortunately, the blonde one is...really cute.

5.1k words. Porn w/ plot. Everyone's a cop including reader. Drinking & drug use. Canon-typical douchebag behavior. Murph knows like ten words and nine of them are "fuck." Smut, fingering, very mild dirty talk. Murph is thicc iykwim. He's also a sub and reader is more dominant as a result. Creampie bc we DESERVE IT. Apologies in advance for all the side characters in this lol.

In theory, this had the potential to be a cut-and-dry operation.

The Major Crimes Unit wasn’t exactly shy about their complete and utter disregard for the law. All laws. Every law. The running joke was that the only difference between the MCU and the guys they took down was a badge. Unfortunately, they tended to pull results out of the smoldering wreckage left in their wake, and that had lent them a truly maddening amount of immunity.

No one had come at them from this angle, though. You were a pioneer of sorts. A pioneer with a wire taped between your boobs.

You didn’t probably need to be wearing actual lingerie. The dress was enough. But it was a mental thing, being undercover. Started from the ground up. So you looked stunning yet attainable, sweet and a little spicy. Fun. You looked fun. This was going to be fun.

Technically, when Detective Henderson had made the offer to you and a few of the regular corner girls to stop by suite 243 at the Haven on Vine, that had almost been enough. He had been deliberately vague about the nature of the invitation, but money had changed hands, and the implication hung in the air. You could get him for that, if you dug your nails in.

But you didn’t just want Henderson. You wanted all of them, but most of all, you wanted O’Brien. To see that smug sonofabitch slapped with a solicitation charge? You just might sell yourself for real to make that happen.

So you agreed, along with the rest of the girls, hitched a ride with a couple of them about an hour later. Only one of them knew you were a cop, the one who had tipped you off that the MCU went looking for party favors every Saturday night. You’d had her back a few times. She’d keep your secret to herself.

The cacophony of three pairs of pleasers clacking up the cinder block stairwell was deafening. You made your way down the hall to 243, watched your girl rap on the door with fingers tipped bright pink and glittering. When the door flung open wide, O’Brien was standing there with a beer in one hand and a blunt in the other, all bad tattoos and worse attitude.

“Ladies!” he boomed. “Come in, come in, please.” He stepped out of the way, ushered you in, grabbed your ass as you passed. You hid the grit of your teeth behind a silly smile, kept it pasted on as you surveyed the scene.

The gang was all here. Detectives Henderson and Connors were hunched over a poker game. The pool was a mixture of cash, drugs, and someone’s silver lighter. Detective Magalon had cards in one hand and a hooker in the other. Detective Zapata was snorting coke off the countertop with not one but two girls, bringing the grand total of dirty cops up to five, sex workers up to six, counting you, and crimes in progress up to twelve or so.

“Make yourselves at home,” O’Brien said. “Can I get you something, a drink, a smoke?”

The other girls opted for drugs. You needed your wits about you, weren’t supposed to drink undercover, and so you declined altogether. This was met with general disapproval.

“Come on,” Connors teased. He winked at you when you met his eye. He was cute, you thought. Kind of scruffy.

O’Brien levelled a stare at you from beneath his heavy brow. Much less cute. “What, you underage or something?”

You had to play the game to win. “What do you got?”

“Well, we’re fresh out of pina coladas. What kinda night you hoping for, honey?” O’Brien held up a bottle of vodka and a fifth of whiskey.

Vodka always hit you hard and fast. “I’ll take the whiskey.”

“Atta girl,” Henderson muttered.

“Your wish, sweetheart.” O’Brien poured you a generous serving into a glass and leered at you. Maybe the whiskey was a good idea after all. You batted your eyes at him and took a delicate sip, let it seep across your tongue until the burn turned to cinnamon and cloves. He grabbed your arm and kissed your cheek as he walked by. “Let’s fucking party, boys!”

Zapata cranked the volume on the speaker thumping R&B from an iPod – a genuine third-gen iPod Touch. The room was stifling, smelled of coconut body spray and weed. This job always took you to the nicest places, but you hadn’t expected to be blasted back to a shitty house party in 2009.

You sipped your whiskey sparingly and trailed O’Brien around the room like a lovesick teenager for a while, laughing at what passed for jokes, hanging on his arm every chance you got, making sure to get every one of the men’s voices on record. You danced with one of the girls for a song or two and listened to countless stories told by dirty cops, which all amounted to basically nothing. No details, no evidence, no incrimination. Apparently, you just had to be there.

The whiskey was warm in your hand by the time you decided to give it a rest. You were putting in work and getting nowhere fast, and you truly could not stand Nick O’Brien. You choked down one more sip before tipping it quietly down the drain. You’d had too much already.

Leaning against the countertop, you tracked your mark from across the room. He took a shot, punched Magalon in the arm, dropped to the couch beside Connors. You watched him lay a heavy hand on the blonde’s shoulder, lean in close, whisper something to him that you couldn’t make out. Connors’ gaze lingered on his cards, then floated across the room and up the length of your body before meeting your eyes.

“C’mere, princess,” he said, patting the space on the couch beside him.

You rounded the poker game, felt both detectives watching you. “My friend here needs some company,” O’Brien said, clapping Connors on the back.

You paused, regarding both men with doe-eyed interest. You were being pawned off, just like that. You weren’t sure whether to be relieved or offended. “What about you, baby?”

O’Brien smirked. “Flattered, honey, but I’m married.”

Zapata snorted. “Since when?”

O’Brien scowled at him. “You were in the wedding party, dipshit.”

“Uh-huh, so where’s your ring, Nick?” Henderson folded, set his hand on the table.

O’Brien shrugged. “Left it by the sink or some shit.” He stood up and maneuvered past you with his hand on your waist, nudging you toward the couch. “Sit down, honey, Murph don’t bite unless you ask him to.”

“That’s the truth,” Connors said as he folded too. “Borracho, you gonna show us your hand or what?”

Magalon withdrew his tongue from behind the teeth of the girl in his lap just long enough to say, “Fold.” He threw his cards down on the table. Henderson and Connors groaned.

“Man, you won that round,” Henderson grumbled. “You ain’t even playing.”

You sank down onto the couch beside Connors and tried not to feel like you were being handed a consolation prize. You reminded yourself that there was evidence aplenty tucked in your cleavage. With their luck and yours, it would probably amount to a month’s suspension. A goddamn paid vacation. Fuckingridiculous.

“One more round?” Henderson asked, shuffling cards.

“Nah.” Connors leaned back and put his arm around you, nudged you into his side. “Got better things to do.”

You rested your hand on his ribs, looked up at him through your lashes. The night was still young. You could play this right, maybe land an actual criminal charge on at least one of them. Of course it had to be the cute one. His thumb drew circles on the bare skin of your shoulder.

“Hey.” He smiled at you. He had killer eyes, you noticed. Sky fucking blue. “What’s your name, baby?”

“Selene.”

“Selene,” he repeated. You liked his voice. Had that been your real name, you’d have butterflies. “Name’s Murph.”

”Is that short for something?”

He chuckled. He’d probably been answering that question his whole life. “Nah. Just Murph.”

You examined him up close. He had a tattoo on his neck, the most basic compass rose you’d ever seen, black ink bleeding a little from age and sun exposure. You wondered if he’d been a sailor in a former life, maybe ex-Navy. His shirt was a size too small, clinging to him like a second skin, tight on his biceps.

“You work out, Murph?” you asked. Low-hanging fruit.

“Every day, baby.”

“That's about all Murph does,” Henderson said, shuffling the deck. “Can’t get rid of the double chin under that beard though.”

“What do you do, Henderson?” Murph shot back. “’Cause I never see you at the gym, skinny motherfucker.”

“C’mon man, you know if Gus ain't working he's praying,” Zapata offered from the kitchen.

“Look, I'm a man of faith,” Henderson said as he pulled the pot towards him with a glance at Magalon, who could not have cared less.

Zapata scoffed. “Name one book in the Bible, dude. One.”

Murph pulled you in closer to be heard over the sound of their bickering. His cologne was smokey and musky, made your nose tingle. “I don’t just work out.”

You cracked a smile at his defensive tone. “What else do you do?”

You felt his nose against your temple, his beard bristly on your cheek. “I surf, too. You like the beach?” His lips at your ear sent chills down your arms.

“I love the beach.” You hated the beach.

“You surf?”

“I’ve tried it once or twice.” An outright lie. “I’m not very good at it.”

“Bet you look hot as fuck in a bikini.”

“I do, actually.” This was true.

His gaze flicked to your mouth and back up. “What do you do for fun, princess?”

You cocked your head. “You mean, besides this?”

Murph laughed. “Yeah. Besides this.”

“I like to cook. I jog. Got a couple dogs, take them to the park on weekends.”

“You ever been to the dog park on 11th? Real nice, has a little obstacle course and shit.”

“How long does it take you to run through it, Murph?” Zapata interrupted.

“About the same amount of time as it takes to fuck your mother.” You snorted and he snickered in your ear, conspiratorial. “Got him.”

Morons, every one of them. You couldn’t keep from rolling your eyes.

Murph didn’t seem to notice. “C’mere, baby.”

He patted his knee and you slid into his lap, looped an arm around his neck. Your tits were nearly in his face and you had to sneak a surreptitious glance down the front of your dress to make sure that the mic wasn’t visible. His jeans were rough on the bare skin of your thighs. He held you against him with one big hand splayed on your waist, the other on your ass, and gave you a squeeze. “You’re fine as fuck, girl.”

You ran your hand over his stomach. Considerable muscle was tucked beneath the foundation of a beer gut. He probably looked good without a shirt, wet and sandy. Too bad you hated the beach.

“You wanna take this somewhere else?” you murmured. Risky. You were skirting the line. You couldn’t actually offer him anything, not even verbally. You had to be vague enough to leave space for a lawyer to argue it had been Murph’s idea to pay you for sex.

He looked at you with interest, almost made you wish these were better circumstances. His lashes were long and thick. You imagined, just for a moment, how it would feel to watch those pretty eyes roll back. How he sounded in bed. You had to cut that train of thought off quick as you felt it shoot straight to your pussy. You were working, for God’s sake.

For a second, you were sure he was going to proposition you right then and there. The promise of it hung in the meager air between you. But then his mouth twisted into a wry smile and he let you down easy with a kiss on your cheek. “Not yet, princess. Night’s still young.”

He looked away, threw an insult at Zapata, got sucked into a mind-numbing conversation about baseball statistics. You were relegated back to accessory status with his hand trailing aimlessly up and down your thigh.

With determination bordering on desperation, you kept working on him, keying him up a little at a time, making sure he didn’t forget about you. You ran your fingers through his hair, drew circles on his chest. For all he was barely paying you attention, you were terribly distracted by him, kept catching yourself admiring his profile. Your knee was nestled against his crotch and you found yourself thinking he probably had a gorgeous cock. He had just the right amount of swagger for it.

Christ. You dug your nails into your palm to snap yourself out of it. Goddamn whiskey was making you spacey. You were not, in fact, here to get laid. You were here to score something more than a slap on the wrist for bad behavior. A department transfer at least, jail time at best. Breaking up the boys’ club either way.

Across the coffee table, Magalon finally decided to stop dry humping his girl in full view of everyone. He untangled himself to escort her into one of the two bedrooms amidst a chorus of howls and ribbing, threw a theatrical wink over his shoulder before swinging the door shut behind him.

“Get it, my man,” Henderson said with a lazy salute.

“It was just gettin’ good,” O’Brien complained. “I got half a boner here.”

Spurred on by the knowledge there was one bedroom left and four girls looking to make an actual business transaction tonight, you figured it was time for desperate measures. You’d already lost O’Brien; you weren’t about to let the night end without a victory.

“Murph, baby,” you whined softly. You had his attention immediately. The expression on his face was so open and earnest that a fleeting thrum of guilt flitted through your chest.

You stroked his cheek and leaned in slow, giving him the opportunity to deflect you, but he didn’t. His lips were soft and he met your kiss with surprising gentleness. He tasted like weed smoke when you slipped your tongue over the threshold of his mouth. You felt his hands tighten their grip on you just a little bit, like he was looking to stabilize himself.

The room filled with hoots and exaggerated moans from your audience and it was enough, you had him, but you didn’t stop and neither did he. His cock twitched against your leg and you let out a small sound of satisfaction, forgetting for a minute that none of this was real. Your hand slid to his neck. His skin was hot under your fingers.

When he broke the kiss and leaned back, he regarded you with a look on his face like he’d underestimated you. His lip shone with your spit. You wanted to suck on it.

“Get outta here?” he mumbled. You nodded and rose unsteadily from his lap. He took your hand and picked his way past the coffee table, leading you to the other bedroom.

“Make good choices,” O’Brien called. “Use protection.”

Murph flipped him off before swinging the door shut behind you.

You turned and opened your mouth to back him into a corner, ask him just what he was hoping for, but his hands were on your waist and he was kissing you again before you got the chance to speak. You meant to push him off – of course you did – but you balled up his shirt in your fists instead, parted your lips for his tongue. He groaned low in his throat and you pressed yourself against him.

“Fuck,” he muttered, backing you toward the bed until your knees hit the mattress and you dropped to a seat.

“Murph –”

“You’re so fucking sexy.” He braced himself on the mattress and bent to kiss the skin below your ear.

“Murph, wait –”

“Tell me, how long have you been a cop?”

You froze. Had you heard him right? “…what?”

He lifted his head and met your eyes, a smug, reproving smile on his face. “Nick clocked you in the first fifteen minutes, baby. Told me to keep you busy. This ain’t our first rodeo.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock. You had no words.

Even in the wan yellow light filtering in through the blinds, you could tell he was enjoying himself. “What you wearing under that dress? A thong? A wire?”

“…both.”

Murph grinned. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” he said loudly, “let the record show she kissed me first. That’s entrapment, detective.”

You scowled. “Fuck you.”

“Now let’s talk about that,” he said. “You seem pretty committed to the bit, huh?”

You hesitated. “I…I don’t….”

“It’s okay. The thing is, I really want to fuck you too. Don’t pretend like you haven’t been thinking about it all night,” he said, cutting off your protest before it could materialize. “Bet that thong’s nice and wet, huh?”

You smacked his arm. “You’re an ass.”

“I know it.” He leaned back, gave you a little space. “Look at it this way. You absolutely can’t use that recording now, right? So this has been one hell of a waste of your time.”

“Looks like it,” you shot back.

“It doesn’t have to be.” There it was again, that sweet, sincere expression. “Let me make your night, princess. We’re two consenting adults.”

“No way.”

“Why not? I’ll even tell Nick he was wrong and you are just a whore.”

You scoffed. “What an offer.”

Murph chuckled. “Come on, baby doll. You know you want to.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, mind racing. He was right, any evidence you’d managed to collect had gone up in smoke the moment he’d outed you on tape. For all intents and purposes, after you left, you were never here. And if he could shield you from Nick O’Brien’s wrath….

He tucked his finger beneath your chin and leaned in. “Please?”

Your breath caught. You did want him. You let your eyes drift shut as his lips found yours. His kiss lacked any hint of malice, was all softness and sensuality. Your hands hovered to his face and you caved, kissing him back, kissing him harder, grabbing his shoulders to tug him on top of you.

To your surprise, he resisted. “Mm – hey.”

“Shut up.”

“Wait.” He pulled back. “Probably best we get that wire off, huh?”

You narrowed your eyes. “The wire, or the dress?”

Murph shrugged. “Both. I’ll get naked too, if it makes you feel better.”

He peeled his shirt off and you were right, he looked damn good without one. The hair on his chest was blonde and curly, the hair on his stomach a shade darker, disappearing into his boxers. He had a tattoo of a shark on his left hip. You shimmied out of your dress and there was the mic taped securely between your breasts, the wire running down your stomach to a small receiver at your hip.

“Fuck.” He reached out and peeled it off, the brush of his thumb sending goosebumps flaring across your skin. “You’re gorgeous, girl.”

You grabbed him by the beltloops. “Come here.”

“Whatever you say.”

He sprawled on top of you and you caught him on your lips, scrambling up the mattress and pulling him along with you. He scooped you into his arms and rolled onto his side, hitched your leg over his hip, grabbed at your ass. You palmed him through his jeans and he threw his head back and moaned.

“Pants are too fuckin’ tight,” he complained.

“Whose fault is that?”

“Yours.”

You undid his fly and slid your hand into his pants, feeling him up through his boxers. He was thick. He writhed as you stroked him purposefully, caught between working his jeans off and melting into your touch.

“What’s the matter?” you teased.

“Driving me fucking crazy. Hold on. Fuck.” He swatted your hand away and stripped off everything at once and you must’ve been on your game at least a little bit tonight because he did indeed have a gorgeous cock. You wrapped your hand around it before he could even settle back beside you and he groaned, collapsing onto his back.

“Jesus Christ, Murph.” Your fingers only just met around his girth. “You’re huge.”

“I know,” he grumbled. “We can take it slow, it’s – fuck – it’s okay.”

You didn’t expect him to be so considerate. “That’s awfully sweet of you.”

“It’s nothing, c’mere. Let me touch you.” He slipped his fingers past your panties and you sighed as he eased them along your slit. You could feel how wet you already were. So could he. “Goddamn…you want it bad, huh?”

“Been pressed up against you all night.”

When his thumb found your clit you jerked and gasped. “Take it easy, baby, I got you. Like that?” He worked you in soft, slow circles that had you bucking against his hand.

“Yeah. Like that.”

You were wound up and desperate for him by the time he pushed his fingers into you, cursing under his breath at the sound they made as he scissored them in and out. The man could multitask, rutting into your hand as he fucked you with his fingers. His kisses were sloppy, without pretense. When you squeezed his balls he moaned shamelessly into your mouth.

“You like that?” you asked him coyly.

“Yeah.”

“Feels good?”

“Feels so fucking good. Get on top of me, girl.”

You obliged, straddling his hips, holding his dick where you wanted so you could grind against him. His head lolled and he let out a vocal sigh, grabbing at the blanket, grabbing at your waist, arching his spine. You were torn between watching his face and watching his cock part your lips as you rocked back and forth. When you reached behind your back to tug at his balls again he whined.

“Need to be inside you, baby, please?”

“I don’t know if I’m ready yet.” You were absolutely ready.

He squeezed his eyes shut, furrowed his brow. “That’s fine, yeah. That’s okay.”

“I can try….” You lowered yourself onto him slowly, so slowly, easing just the head of his cock into you.

“God – fucking – “

“How’s that?”

“So good, baby, that’s so g – fuck.” He bit his lip hard as you sank a little further down. “It’s perfect, you’re perfect.”

You sighed in bliss. “You gonna cum already, Connors?”

“No way. I’m good. You good?”

“I’m great.”

You took him all the way at a glacial pace just to see him squirm, half an inch at a time until he filled you completely. His gaze was locked on your pussy, stretched snug around him, and when his eyes finally wandered up to meet yours his pupils were blown in the darkness.

“Fuck me?” he said breathlessly.

You rolled your hips slow and he groaned, gripping the flesh of your thighs. You rode him lazily, reveling in every little sound that escaped from his mouth, the way his lashes fluttered when you switched up the angle. When he fumbled for your clit in the meager light you took his hand and guided him to it, letting out a soft squeak when he found it. Your cunt clenched tight and he shuddered.

“Easy, tiger.” You slid your hands up his stomach, over his chest. When your thumbs brushed across his nipples he responded with a broken moan and a full-body flinch. “Oh, sweet boy.” He was done for.

You bent low over him and laved your tongue around his nipple, sucking greedily, worrying the other one between your fingers. He choked out a sound that was downright indecent, tangling his hand in your hair and grinding up into you, helpless and needy. The change in position pressed his cock to your g-spot and you rabbited your hips in short, quick thrusts until you were both frenzied and panting.

His beard was coarse as you combed your fingers through it, admiring his flushed and handsome face. “Pretty boy. You feel so good.”

“You’re hot as fuck,” he muttered, shaking his head. “That pussy is – fuck.”

You smiled at him. He was sexy like this, so thoroughly dazed and disheveled, whimpering when you flexed around him. “What are you gonna give me if I let you cum inside?”

“A million dollars,” he said immediately. “Are you for real? Two million dollars.”

You laughed. “No way you have two million dollars.”

“I can get it.” He said it like he meant it.

You gripped his hair and kissed him, lapping at his tongue. His big hands were warm and gentle on your waist. “How about you let me finish first?”

“How about I let you finish first and I give you my number?”

“Is that for my benefit or yours?”

“Mutual benefit, baby doll.”

“Deal.”

His muscles flexed under your hands as he sat up and adjusted you in his lap, wrapping his arms around you, kissing you hungrily. He dug his nails into your back as your mouth wandered down his neck, licking the sweat from his skin, blazing a trail of love bites and kisses, sucking a sultry purple hickey into the center of his tattoo.

“I got work in the morning,” he protested weakly.

“Good,” you said. “They’re gonna love it.”

He offered you his thumb and you wrapped your lips around it, watching his expression turn desperate as you sucked a shade past innocence. He tugged it from your mouth with a pop, snaked his hand between your bodies and felt for your clit.

You made a soft, dreamy sound when he stroked you just right. He was damn good with his hands. “Let me make you feel good, baby,” he murmured. “Wanna make that pussy fucking drip.”

You let him work you up for a minute and then took up a gradual rhythm, eyes closed, grinding on him with intention. Wave after wave of steady-building sensation coursed through you, tightening the clutch of your body around him. You were so full, pulled tight, the friction addictive. You could feel it, that swing and pull like gravity, his body coaxing yours to the brink.

“That’s it, princess, let me see it.”

You pawed at his shoulders. “Murph….”

“You gonna cum for me?” he breathed.

“Yes – God –”

“Fuck, you better cum for me, I can’t –”

You felt the swell of your release in your core and cried out, burying your face in his shoulder and clawing at his biceps, riding him through it. Pleasure washed through your veins. Your cunt spasmed in staccato bursts, stretched to its limit.

Murph inhaled sharply, his whole body tense. You felt him quiver inside you. “Baby – baby – please –”

Hazy and gratified, you strung kisses along his jaw, snapped your hips until he started to come apart. “Come on, big boy, cum for me.”

With satisfaction, you watched his eyes roll back as he let go and it was better than you’d imagined, the way his lips parted and a strangled groan twisted free, the way he threw his head back like some feral animal under the moon. You gasped at the throb and pulse of him inside you, sending vestigial sparks spiraling off into your core.

He slumped forward with his forehead pressed to yours and let out a heavy sigh. “Fuck,” he mumbled.

“Fuck,” you agreed.

You moved to extricate yourself and he grunted, tightened his arms around you. “You got somewhere to be?”

“We should probably get back out there.” You had no idea how much time had passed. The music was still going strong in the next room; you couldn’t imagine anyone had called it a night.

He pressed a kiss to your temple. “No way, baby.”

You laughed, smoothing his hair back from his brow. “We can’t stay in here.”

“We could,” he said. “We could sleep here.”

You shook your head. “O’Brien’s going to be pissed at you.”

“He’s always pissed. Don’t bring him up. This is a nice moment.”

With a laugh, you said, “You’re right. It is.”

You laid your head on his shoulder and listened to his heartbeat for a few minutes more before pulling away in spite of his protests. “You’re breaking my heart,” he complained.

“You’ll have to text me later so I can break it again.”

“Do you need a ride home?”

“No, I’ll call a cab.”

“You don’t want a police escort?”

“I’m a fucking cop, Murph.”

“Oh. Right.” He watched you dress. “What’s your name? Your real name.”

You told him, smiled when he repeated it to himself. “Do you really surf?”

“All the time. I love it.”

“I have a confession. I hate the beach.”

Murph gave you a crooked smile. “Bet I can change your mind.”

He offered his arm to stabilize you as you stepped into your absurdly high heels, wound the wire around his hand neatly and gave it to you to hide away in your bra. He called after you as you made for the door. “Hey.”

You turned. He sat on the edge of the bed, hair mussed, light from the streetlamp out the window cutting lines across his bare chest.

“Kiss me goodnight?” he said without a hint of sarcasm.

Fuck, he was cute. You wobbled back across the carpet and took his face in your hands, kissed him long and sweet. “Goodnight, tiger.”

He took your hand as you pulled away and kissed your fingers, and then finally, reluctantly let you go. “’Night, princess.”

You slipped back into the main room, met the chorus of heckling with a beatific smile. You exchanged a few words with your girl from the corner, let her know you wouldn’t need a ride home. She gave you a look; you gave it right back; she gave you a subtle nod of approval.

On your way out you shot a glance at O’Brien. You couldn’t help it. He had a look on his face that could curdle milk, watching you like a hawk. You supposed it was alright you hadn’t managed to get very far with him, all things considered.

You gave him a delicate finger wave, blew him a kiss. “Thanks for the invite.”

“Get the fuck out.”

You winked at him as you ducked out the door. “Your wish, sweetheart.”

#murph connors #murph connors fanfiction #not tagging this den of thieves bc this fic is not for people who unironically enjoyed this movie let's be honest #my writing

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theforgottenmcrmy · 2 years

Text

Spring~ Part 1/2 (Ser Harwin Strong x Reader)

᯽ Please note that this is an overall Part 6 of the series “Growing Strong”, the masterlist of which can be found on the pinned post on my blog. For some reason Tumblr doesn’t like me posting it here lately.᯽

Pairing: Ser Harwin Strong x Tyrell! Female Reader

Warnings: GOT typical sexism, canon divergence, suggestive themes, mentions of pregnancy, death of minor character.

Summary: A few months of wedded bliss has been abruptly ended by another raven bringing grim news from Highgarden. As you try to come to terms with how the news will impact your life, someone familiar approaches you with an offer to lessen your burden... But are their motives genuine?

A/N: Thank you all so so so much!🖤🖤🖤 I’ve got a few more parts planned for this series, and I hope you all continue to enjoy reading it as I much as I have writing it. This chapter made me low key sad to write, but it had to be done for character development and future plot...💔 Maybe I’ll go back and write more light hearted stuff when this main series is over.

Fun fact, when I had planned this series, it was only going to have about 3 parts, and this would have been the last part. If I went that route, this part would’ve been named “Growing Strong” ... take from that what you will about what’s to come. Part 2 should be up on Thursday 10/20.🖤

PS, if anyone, and I mean anyone, wants to chat about last night’s ep, please hit a girl up. Shoot me a message. Send me an ask (shoutout to the anon who did so last time). Anything. I’m dying to talk about this stuff.

Ravens frequenting the skies between King’s Landing and Highgarden had become commonplace once more.

...

…

...

Dearest Brother,

Though you suggested you have been feeling less than well as of late, as I suspect is largely due in part to the cold weather, I beg you to take heart. The arrival of spring is upon us once more. With the improvement of the weather, I pray that you shall improve as well.

In the spirit of that happy news, I hope you will forgive me for what I am about to ask of you.

As I have before, I must continue to urge you to muster your physical and mental strength in order to finalize the negotiations with Lord Jason. The marriage between you and Lady Cerelle would be most advantageous for our House, and Lady Cerelle will be a fine Lady of Highgarden.

If not for the best interest of our House, I beg you to come to an agreement for your own sake. I have known nothing but pure happiness since I was wed some months ago. And for you, Brother, I would wish for nothing less.

As planned, my husband and I, along with my Good Sisters, shall see you for a visit in a few short weeks. If I do not receive a raven from you before we depart King’s Landing, I trust we shall speak further of this matter in person.

I hope this visit will benefit us both. Though I have come to think of King’s Landing as my new home, I fear that a part of myself will always long for the Reach, and for Highgarden even more still. Father always said that House Tyrell is at our strongest when we are not divided.

Take care, Brother. Despite the nature of this letter, I sincerely hope you are feeling more favorable than when you last wrote. I look forward to seeing you again.

Love,

Y/N

It was the warmest day of the year in recent memory. Though the winter had been short, and very forgiving, the warmer months were always heavily favored by those in King’s Landing.

Despite the small winter chill that still clung in the air, Princess Rhaenyra had requested to spend some time out in the gardens. You, Lady Lilyan, and Lady Eyla had joined her happily.

The four of you made yourselves comfortably seated at a table. Various trees and shrubs surrounded you, giving just enough of an illusion of privacy to placate the Princess. The sun shone upon the gardens, bathing the brightening greenery and blooming flowers in rays. Without any canvas overhead, the sun’s rays fell upon all four of your crowns as well. Though it was warm, it felt quite pleasant in contrast to the cool breeze.

“Under the Dragon’s eye…”

Samwell the Bard concluded his song, and the soothing chords faded away into nothingness.

Not but a moment later, Princess Rhaenyra requested, “Again.”

You saw Samwell’s complacent facial expression shift into an exasperated one, but fortunately, the Princess did not. As the bard began to strum the opening chords of the song once more, you exchanged amused looks with Lilyan and Eyla.

“Here you are, Princess.”

A serving girl placed a platter of candied lemons upon the table.

“Ah, yes!” Princess Rhaenyra gleamed, looking at the lemons with hungry eyes. “Thank you very much.”

As the serving girl excused herself, the Princess dug right in, grabbing several of the candied lemons at once. Before she ate the first one, she gestured down to the platter, and looked between the three of you. “Please, I insist- have some.”

Lilyan and Eyla grabbed a few for themselves, but the thought of the typically delicious sweets sound less than appealing to you at that particular moment. “Perhaps I shall have some later, Your Grace.”

“As you wish,” the Princess smiled with a nonchalant shrug. Placing her hand on her stomach absentmindedly, she added, “That just means there is more for me to enjoy now.”

The candied lemons were the latest of her cravings. Princess Rhaenyra, less than a year into her marriage, was with child.

It was a most welcomed development.

Since their marriage, Ser Laenor had been absent from King’s Landing more often than he had been present. It was not aided by the fact that winter had roughened the waters significantly, making sailing between Driftmark to Blackwater Bay and back a more difficult feat than it usually was. Thankfully, the news of Princess Rhaenyra’s pregnancy had quelled the more nefarious rumors about him and the nature of their marriage.

King Viserys was overjoyed with the news. If he had doted upon his daughter before, it was nowhere near comparable to the attention Princess Rhaenyra received from him now. Only the best maesters would be permitted to see to the new needs of his daughter. In fact, those said maesters had recommended against the Princess taking air outside in the gardens that day, citing that it was still too cold.

In response, Princess Rhaenyra had quipped, “When my mother was with child, she listened to every advice and suggestion you gave. But in the end, what effect did your words of wisdom have upon her wellbeing?”

The maesters were awfully quiet after that.

“Did you hear that Lord Hawick means to bring his daughter to Court in a few weeks time?” Lilyan asked the group conversationally.

With the warmer weather, it was not uncommon for ladies of noble houses to start flocking to King’s Landing. Though their fathers and brothers would do so under the guise of paying respects to and discussing business with King Viserys, you knew that it was really a means to flaunt their daughters about in the capital in the hopes of securing a worthy match for them. Various noble lords, their sons, and even knights were not a rarity in King’s Landing, nor the Red Keep.

You and Princess Rhaenyra merely hummed in response to Lilyan’s statement. Now that the two of you were each wed, neither of you were nearly as invested in the gossip pertaining to romantic intrigue of others at Court as you once might have been. You were satisfied with your own lives, in your own ways. However, neither of you would dare crush the spirits of Lilyan or Eyla, as the young girls had reached the age where they seldom talked about anything else but chivalrous pursuits.

“It is unfair,” Eyla sighed, downtrodden, “that as soon as we are to leave for Highgarden, countless others shall be arriving in King’s Landing.”

“There are plenty of interesting people of the Reach to meet, I promise you,” you assured her patiently. If only she knew.

“Lady Y/N is right,” Lilyan agreed firmly. “Besides, I believe that just as many will be departing King’s Landing as those arriving. Ser Royce, for example. I heard Lord Boremond ordered his grandson to depart for Storm’s End by next week.”

You eyes flickered over to Princess Rhaenyra upon the mentioning of Ser Royce’s name.

But Princess Rhaenyra was a good actress. A great one, even. There was absolutely no indication that there was any particular fondness between the Heir to the Iron Throne and the future Heir to Storm’s End.

But you knew there was.

Since the tourney in celebration of Princess Helaena’s second name day, Ser Royce had stayed in the capital city. His grandsire, Lord Boremond, in accordance with his father, Lord Borros, had asked the King if he would be willing to host Ser Royce for a time, hoping that it would enable the young lord to become better acquainted with the business dealings of his House that he would be expected to manage one day. As Lord Boremond had been blessed with longevity, and his son, Lord Borros, was also of good health, Ser Royce had not received the same guidance and tutorage he otherwise would have. But should anything happen to Lord Boremond or Lord Borros, Ser Royce would have to rise to the occasion.

King Viserys agreed to Lord Boremond’s request, and he, Ser Royce, and Princess Rhaenyra had spent quite some time discussing trade to and from the Stormlands over the past few months.

You supposed that’s where the fondness began for Princess Rhaenyra. Whatever it had started as, you suspected that the relationship between the Princess and Ser Royce had developed beyond what one might expect between a future monarch and a future lord pledged to them.

But that was entirely speculation. Princess Rhaenyra knew how grave even a whisper of such insinuations would be. You doubted she would be willing to take the chance of causing such stirrings, despite how inadequate she found certain aspects of her marriage to be.

And when the babe was born with the silvery white Targaryen hair, you would happily wallow in your guilt for ever having doubted the Princess for even a moment.

“It’s about time,” Eyla declared. “He has been in King’s Landing for months… How many trade details could there possibly have been to discuss?”

The Princess looked suddenly alert upon the other young woman’s quandary, but you intervened, knowing that she was not likely to.

“The Stormlands have many forests,” you reminded Lady Eyla tactfully. “Ser Royce has been overseeing the wood traded to the Crownlands throughout the winter. But now that spring has arrived, he is able to return home.”

Lady Eyla accepted your answer on the surface, but there was a small look on her face that suggested she didn’t entirely believe you, or perhaps, merely found your answer dissatisfactory.

“Good day, Your Grace, Sisters… My Lady.”

The four of you looked up at the sound of a fifth voice joining you.

“Ser Harwin!” Princess Rhaenyra greeted, putting the candied lemons she had in her hand back onto the serving dish. “It is a lovely day. Perhaps you would care to join us?”

The clothes and armor your husband wore suggested to you that Harwin had just come from the training yard. Confirming your suspicions was the fact that part of his hair was tied up and away from his face, which would have granted him better visibility. Despite his nickname of Breakbones, it still surprised you just how natural the ensemble looked on him. Some men had the appearance that suggested they were more fitted to scholarly pursuits, but not Harwin.

The gods could mourn that someone of his size, stature, and strength was not likely to ever see true war in his lifetime. But you would not. Just the thought of watching your husband ride off into battle was almost too painful to imagine.

“It is a lovely day, Your Grace,” Harwin affirmed. “Though, I regret that I must decline your invitation to partake in it.”

“Oh?”

“Might I be granted permission to steal my wife away for a short stroll?” Harwin asked Princess Rhaenyra. His eyes finally landed on you, and when they did, a conspiring smile played on his lips.

“Granted permission?” Princess Rhaenyra echoed. “No- I insist!” She turned to you with a knowing look. “Go now, Y/N. Take a stroll with your husband on this fine day… So that I may live vicariously through you.”

Despite your marriage to Harwin, Princess Rhaenyra still found plenty of amusement in forcing you to spend quality time with your husband. Had she not been destined to rule the Seven Kingdoms one day, you ventured to dare whether she would have had a propensity for matchmaking.

“Very well, Your Grace,” you complied, rising from your seat and walking over to your husband.

“And take your time!” Lady Lilyan called from behind you, causing Lady Eyla and Princess Rhaenyra to giggle.

Harwin ignored them, though without having taken offense, and offered you his arm. You took it, and the two of you walked away, waiting until you were out of earshot of the other women before speaking.

“It is a lovely day,” you noted conversationally.

“Yes,” Harwin agreed readily. “Though not as lovely as you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, and tightened your grip on his arm. “You have already won my hand, Dearest. There is little need for such flattery.”

“And yet, you are no less deserving of compliments simply because we are wed,” Harwin challenged playfully. “Aye, I am your Husband now. But that means that I am the only one who is properly allowed to bestow such words upon you.” He sighed then, and the gesture bordered on being dramatic. But you knew it was merely a jest. “It is a heavy burden, ensuring that you are showered with such praise, but it is one that I chose to bear...”

You rolled your eyes at his antics and lightly slapped his arm in mock discipline. Before you could chide him, your eyes widened in surprise as you passed a familiar face along the garden path. “Ah, My Lord!”

Your cousin, Lord Garrett Redwyne, greeted both you and Harwin with a pleasant smile and cordial nod.

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is that really you?” you teased him. “I heard you had arrived at the Red Keep a few days past, and yet, as you did not pay me a visit, I did not dare to believe it.”

Garrett gave you a sheepish smile, and bore your jibes good-naturedly. “My sincerest apologies, dear Cousin. I had some urgent business to attend to upon my arrival, though calling upon you was the next very thing I planned to see through.”

That was not surprising to you. Garrett, a son of your late father’s sister, was the second son of his family. As such, Garrett had frequently been charged to act as an envoy on behalf of many Redwyne matters across the Reach and Crownlands. Though only a few years your senior, it was indisputable that Garrett was far more-traveled, and you’d always looked forward to his tales at family gatherings for that very purpose.

“No apologies needed, Cousin,” you assured him truthfully, before looking up at Harwin with a hopeful look in your eyes. “Though, should you still feel the need to make amends, perhaps you would care to dine with us some evening before you depart for the Arbor?”

“Well,” your cousin began hesitantly, eyeing Harwin somewhat nervously, “if you insist…”

It was no secret to you that Garrett was frightened of your husband. Perhaps it was Harwin’s rather notorious nickname that put fear into the young lord’s mind. But his fear was unwarranted. You enjoyed your cousin’s company, and were even closer with his mother, who had acted as a mother figure for you throughout your life.

As long as Garrett did not cross you, he had no reason to fear Harwin. And Harwin was aware of your cousin’s reservations, too. He’d done his best at the wedding feast to reassure Garrett that he was not the monster his nickname suggested, but it had all been to little avail. At least Garrett had seemed to get along well with Harwin’s younger brother, Lord Larys.

Still, your husband was not one to be defeated so easily. Harwin gave your cousin his most approachable smile, and confirmed, “We insist, My Lord. It would be an honor to share your company.”

You couldn’t tell if Lord Garrett was affected by Harwin’s effort to appease him, as he made no facial or verbal acknowledgement of it. Instead, your cousin gave you one last smile, before heading about his way. As he passed you, he said, “We shall work out the details of when at a later time, so that may leave the two of you to your stroll. Good day to you, Cousin… Ser Harwin.”

Your cousin all but scurried off into the gardens along the path from whence you and Harwin had just come. You fought the urge to laugh as your focus returned to your husband, and why he had decided to “steal” you away from Princess Rhaenyra and his sisters a short while ago.

“Now, my dear Husband, what is it that you wish to speak with me about?”

“My father has suggested two more men. I was hoping to hear your thoughts about them?”

“Of course. Whom did he name?”

“Lord Graige of House Graceford and Lord Cerran of House Leygood.”

You frowned involuntarily, though quickly recovered, hoping to spare Harwin further cause for concern. “Lord George Graceford is known to be quite cruel… though perhaps his son has learned from his father’s misgivings. And as for Lord Cerran, I’m afraid I have not heard much about him… Though, perhaps no news is good news?”

Harwin hung his head in dismay.

Lord Lyonel Strong had been more proactive in seeking matches for his two daughters as of late. With your upcoming visit to the Reach, the Lord Hand had begun to look into eligible lords from your homeland, with the hopes that you might be able to arrange a meeting between them and his daughters. Though Harwin was less than thrilled with the idea in general, you were honored when your Good Father had asked for your advice on the matter. You’d come to love Lady Lilyan and Lady Eyla as younger sisters of your own, and you loathed the idea of them being wedded off to less-than-honorable men.

You patted Harwin’s arm reassuringly. “Do not fret. I trust that you and your father will find a more than suitable match for each of your sisters.”

“Are we certain they must marry at all?” Harwin questioned, only half-seriously.

“Gods forbid, what if something should happen to you and the Lord Hand?” you proposed. “You will have wished your sisters were married then. Their husbands will see that they are well taken care of. They will be safe and secure, and have households of their own to run, instead of being resigned to your father’s.”

“But Larys-”

“I know you love your brother, but Larys would have his hands full simply by inheriting your family’s seat and lordship. Would it be kind to worsen his burden by forcing him to secure matches for his sisters as well?”

Harwin fell silent, knowing that you made several valid points. Though he adored his sisters, and was fiercely protective of them, he was aware of the reality of their situations. He had a castle and title of his own to inherit someday; his sisters were not so fortunate.

You stood on your toes, and placed a chaste, comforting kiss upon his cheek. “I know your father would only agree to marriages for your sisters with fine, decent men. And, if those men are from Houses in the Reach, we would be able to visit your sisters as often as you’d like whenever we are in Highgarden.”

Harwin’s spirits were immediately uplifted at the idea of that.

“My Lady!”

Harwin came to a stop, as did you, at the sight of a messenger headed your way with the utmost haste. When the young man finally reached you, you noticed he was rather disheveled, and nearly out of breath. He heaved heavily, attempting to recompose himself.

“Gods,” Harwin frowned, very concerned. “What is the matter?”

“There was a raven from Highgarden, My Lord.”

It was your turn to frown, though yours was out of confusion. “Already?”

Your last correspondence to your brother, Lord Derron Tyrell, had been sent by raven just a few days before. Hardly enough time had passed for him to have received your letter and returned his response.

The messenger dug into his coat, and revealed the small scroll of a message.

Your eyes glazed over the scroll, awaiting in the messenger’s open palm, before raising to his face. The young man’s expression was a sorrowful one.

Your gut sank.

“What is it?” you demanded, in as level a tone as you could manage.

The messenger said nothing, and merely held out the scroll to you even further with a pained look in his eyes.

Another chill wind blew through the air. Though spring was on the precipice, it seemed that winter was still desperately trying to cling on. You weren’t displeased with it, despite the lovely day you’d experienced several days before.

The colder weather was far more attuned to your mood.

You and your husband’s shared quarters, which had once felt alive with joy and love, now felt cold and empty. But then again, the whole world felt that way.

You sat at the small table in silence. A grand view of the setting sun over King’s Landing was visible from the balcony, which was only a short ways away, but you couldn't find the strength to venture out there yourself. Besides, you could see it all well enough from where you sat.

The soft shuffling of armor and rustling of a cloak could be heard in the background. The noises gradually grew louder, and suddenly, you realized the bearer of both was now standing behind you.

“I must go now,” Harwin informed you, speaking softly.

Normally, you would bid him the warmest of farewells, and make him promise to keep himself safe. Though Harwin was no stranger to the streets of King’s Landing, every night he had to depart for his rounds for the City Watch, you feared greatly for his safety.

But that night, you said nothing. Though you wanted to, you feared what your voice would sound like. Disuse and sorrow would have wreaked havoc upon it. As it was, you could not even bring yourself to look at him. He’d been so patient with you… But you couldn’t help but feel as though he deserved a wife who was able to pull herself together more quickly.

You could tell Harwin was waiting on a response. Though your eyes were fixed over the city, you offered him a small nod in compromise.

You half-expected him to leave without another word, and confirm your worries that he was beginning to pull away from you.

But Harwin’s fingers suddenly brushed across your neck. The gesture would have normally made you shiver from another feeling altogether, but this time, it made you shiver from surprise. He silently adjusted the black shawl you hadn’t even realized had fallen to rest up and over your shoulders once more. Once he was satisfied that you were better protected from the chill, he moved to rest his hands upon your shoulders. The gesture was hardly an embrace, but it still left you feeling protected. Loved.

Harwin leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to your temple. As he withdrew his hands, he suggested gently, “Try to get some rest, My Love. I shall be back in the morning.”

With those last words, your husband walked across the room and exited your chambers. The door shut softly behind him, but once he was gone, you felt no more relief.

You would not be getting any rest.

Your brother was gone.

Between your fits over mourning over the past few days, your mind tore itself apart with questions. How does a young man in perfectly good health be so abruptly struck down by some sickness?

When your father had taken ill, you had a far easier time making sense of it. Your father, though he was not what you would have considered to be old, had lived a large part of his life. He’d gotten married, had children, and served your House, the Reach, and the realm dutifully. But your brother…

The maesters thought it was odd, but seeing as Derron had passed in his sleep, and that your brother was loved by most who knew him, they did not look into the nature of his death any further. You wished that they had, so that you could reassure yourself that nothing foul had been amiss, but you’d lost your chance. The silent sisters would have already begun to see to him by now.

Derron was but a young man, only a few years older than you. He had just inherited your father’s seat, and was robbed of the time he deserved to fully grow into the role and make it in his own right. He had no children. He wasn’t even wed.

You frowned even deeper.

The thought of Lady Cerelle, whom, despite the lack of an official betrothal, you knew cared for your brother so very deeply, disturbed you. How was she taking the news? … You dared to wonder if, had she been present, you might be able to offer comfort to each other in this difficult time.

…

Sometime later, there was a knock on the door.

Despite the fact that you would much rather be silent in the hopes that whoever it was would assume you were not there, you knew that it would be futile. Word about your brother’s passing had spread quickly throughout the Red Keep. If you were not seen out and about, it could only be assumed that you confined yourself to your chambers.

Princess Rhaenyra had visited you several times already, offering her kind words. Though you wanted to be alone, you had to admit that her presence offered you some peace. You were heartened that the woman you had been chosen to serve had become more of a companion to you than you would have ever dared to hope for.

The fact that it was most likely Princess Rhaenyra knocking on the door now encouraged you to call out, “Come in.”

The door to your chambers opened, and closed a moment later. The entrant was silent, but you heard their gentle footsteps upon the stone floor as they approached you from behind.

“Cousin.”

At this, you finally tore your eyes away from the city.

Lord Garrett looked down upon you with sympathy. He was donned in black doublet, and matching trousers. You weren’t sure if you took comfort in the knowledge that you were not alone in your grief, or if it was just a painful reminder of the loss that you both suffered.

Slowly, your cousin took a seat in the chair opposite of you. He looked upon you carefully for a few moments, before saying, “I apologize for not calling upon you sooner. I suspected you might have wanted some time alone.”

A correct assumption. Your focus had returned to the view of King’s Landing.

“I wanted to offer you my deepest condolences for the loss of Lord Derron,” Garrett continued, not dissuaded at all by your lack of response. “My cousin was a great man, and he will be deeply missed.”

Still, you said nothing.

“It is a small blessing that we are here, in King’s Landing, together. At the very least, perhaps we may take comfort in one another.”

At this, you turned your head and gave your cousin a blank look. After a moment, you let out a single, dry laugh.

Your cousin gave you a small smile, evidently relieved to have finally gotten some sort of response out of you.

Now that he had your attention, you inquired, “What brings you here, Cousin?”

Garrett’s smile faltered. “I would have called upon you sooner,” he repeated carefully, “but I wanted to give you a few days of reprieve.” He pursed his lips, clearly deciding how best to phrase his next words. “Though I wish to be delicate at this time, there is a pressing matter that I wanted to discuss with you.”

Ah, of course, you realized. “You are more than welcome to travel with myself and my husband back to Highgarden for my brother’s service, My Lord. The rest of your family may meet us there, if they wish. I shall be happy to see them.”

Garret’s lips twitched uncomfortably. “While that is a generous offer, and one I shall seriously consider, that is not the matter of which I speak.”

“Oh… Then what is it, Cousin?”

Guilt, pity, and a sense of resolve twisted upon Lord Garrett’s face, which resulted in a very conflicted expression. Your entire focus was upon him now, and you were greatly intrigued by whatever subject he had deemed pressing enough to visit you at this late hour of the night.

“I have requested an audience with King Viserys and the small council. I plan to petition them to declare myself as Derron’s legal heir. This would encompass my inheritance of the lordship’s titles, entitlement to Highgarden, and all of House Tyrell’s other holdings.”

…

Your mind went blank.

Your father had been Lord of Highgarden. You had just come around to processing and accepting the reality that your brother was Lord of Highgarden now… or, was. Having anyone else, no matter the individual, assume their place felt… wrong.

In the middle of grieving the loss of Derron, you had somehow overlooked the daunting question that his passing had left. Who was to inherit your family’s seat?

Your cousin was unbothered by your silence. In fact, he seemed to interpret it for his own purposes. “I hope you can forgive me for speaking of such a trivial matter at this time, but, as I said, I do believe this to be a pressing matter.”

You were too stunned to speak.

“I have seen how well married life treats you, My Lady,” Lord Garrett said then, his tone shifting from apologetic to persuasive. “I would not wish to burden you with the responsibilities that plagued your father and brother. If it is your desire, I shall take up lordship of Highgarden, as our grandsire once did, and spare you from any further distress. You and Ser Harwin shall be free to travel the realm as you please, without the weight of responsibility bearing down heavily upon you… Of course, I give you my word that you shall be well taken care of. Any allowances for you currently in existence shall not cease, and, should you require funding for anything else in your lifetime, you would need only to ask it of me.”

Still trying to make sense of anything and everything that Lord Garrett was alluding to, you pursed your lips.

“The meeting with the King and small council is in two days,” he informed you then. “Though you are welcome to attend, that will not be necessary. Your absence will be understood as support of my claim. I am sure everyone will understand your wish to mourn privately.”

Your brows furrowed as your mind began to race.

Lord Garrett took that as his having been dismissed. He rose from his seat, and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder as he passed. “I bid you a good night, Cousin. Fear not, these dark times shall pass.”

Once the door to your chambers closed behind him, you cursed.

The sound of birds chirping filled your ears.

The opening and closing of the chamber doors, followed by quickened footsteps, stirred you.

But it was the sound of your extremely concerned husband that completely woke you.

“Gods, Y/N!” he muttered, though it was loud enough for you to catch in the otherwise silent room.

You forced our eyes open, lifted up your head, and looked about your surroundings. But as you did so, you winced in pain. You very quickly realized that you had fallen asleep right there, still seated at the table in front of the balcony.

Harwin was at your side immediately. As he was still wearing his armor and gold cloak, you knew he had only just arrived back from his watch. Despite his evident tiredness, the concern in his eyes shone through, making you feel more guilty than you already did.

After rising from your seat with a small pained groan, Harwin offered you support immediately. His hands fell to your waist, and he slowly maneuvered you away from the table and chair.

As he gently guided you across the room, he asked, “Were seated there the whole night?” One of his hands rose, and he pressed it softly upon your forehead and cheeks. “Gods, you’re chilled!”

He was probably right. And though your guilt had begun to eat away at you, there was something more pressing. “We need to talk.”

Harwin, though he had always been courteous to you, had grown impatient, and he was forced to put his foot down. “Whatever it is, we can discuss it later, My Love. For now, you need to rest,” he insisted. His tone left little room for argument as he continued to lead you over towards your shared bed. Then he added, “Proper rest.”

You shook your head in protest, though allowed him to seat you upon the mattress nonetheless. “No, it cannot wait. It is about my cousin.”

“Lord Garrett?” After Harwin was satisfied that you were not going to move from your spot, he turned and walked over towards the fireplace. Once there, he added a few more logs to the dying fire. As he began to stir the flames, he asked, “What of him?”

“He wants the lordship.”

Harwin froze.

When he said nothing, you turned over your shoulder to look at him. He turned away from the fire and headed back over towards you slowly, looking as though he didn’t understand, or perhaps hadn’t quite heard, what you had said.

“Forgive me, My Love… What did you say?”

“He wants Highgarden, the titles, the coffers… everything. He is going to petition the King and the small council to be declared my brother’s legal heir.”

A mixed array of emotions flooded your husband’s face. Before you could think of your next words, several knocks sounded on the door.

You attempted to rise, but Harwin was already on the move. As he passed, he calmly gestured at you to stay put. “Rest.”

You did as he bid. Rest finally was beginning to sound like an appealing option. Now that you had confided to Harwin about the matter that had kept you awake most of the night, you could afford a few hours of sleep.

Harwin answered the door, opening it just far enough for you to catch a glimpse of who it was.

Lady Bethany Hightower, the Queen’s cousin, and also, one of her ladies in waiting.

“Forgive me for the early hour, My Lord.”

“What can I assist you with, Lady Bethany?”

“The Queen has requested an audience with Lady Y/N.”

Harwin hesitated. With one hand resting upon the door, he looked over his shoulder towards you. You weren’t sure what your expression conveyed- it could have been tiredness, distaste, or even fear.

Whatever it was, your husband interpreted it well enough. Harwin turned back to face the Queen’s cousin with purpose. “I’m afraid My Lady Wife is resting. As she has just lost her dear brother not but a few days past, I am sure the Queen can understand why her request must be denied at this time.”

“She understands, My Lord,” Lady Bethany claimed, “But she still insists upon an audience with Lady Y/N at once.”

You could see the muscles along your husband’s back and shoulders tense, despite the armor and cloak that covered them.

“Very well,” he said, through slightly gritted teeth. “I shall accompany her then.”

“The Queen wishes to speak with Lady Y/N alone,” Lady Bethany protested disapprovingly.

“And she shall,” Harwin promised haughtily. “The Queen may command me to leave a room in order for her to speak with my wife alone. But she shall not forbid me from waiting for her just outside the door, nor from walking her through the halls, for only Lady Y/N may command that of me.”

Once you knew that it was inevitable, you rose from the bed, and put on your best face to disguise your true fatigue. “Come now, Dearest,” you told Harwin sweetly, placing a light hand on his arm as you approached him. You gave Lady Bethany a stiff nod in greeting. You looked up at Harwin and stated airily, “We mustn't keep the Queen waiting.”

A/N: Thank you for reading! TO BE CONTINUED in Part 2, which is planned to be posted on Thursday 10/20.🖤🖤🖤

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jadedbirch · 6 months

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Happy Centennial to La Divina!

December 2, 1923 was a blessed day for that was the day Maria Callas was born. Unmatched as an operatic diva, on and off stage, we are so fortunate to have many of her recordings to remind us of what we lost and for new generations of opera lovers to discover and become entranced with.

And now, the impossible task of picking my own personal top 5 Maria Callas roles.

5. Elvira (in Bellini's I Puritani)

Callas singlehandedly revived the bel canto repertoire and brought Bellini's operas (most not performed since the 19th century) back to the fore. Of all the operas in which La Divina got to excel in mad scenes, I chose this one because essentially the entire opera is one long mad scene for her character - Elvira - a young, Puritan girl who thinks that her beloved has abandoned her on the day of their wedding. Callas somehow finds an entire theatrical range of heartbreaks in this performance, and doesn't stop breaking your heart until the last (surprisingly happy) note of the opera.

Recommended: I would invest in the 1953 EMI studio recording with Giuseppe di Steffano and Rolando Panerai. But while I was fucking around, I also found this 1952 live recording from Mexico, that I'm excited to check out.

4. Leonora (in Verdi's Il Trovatore)

Callas was so famous for singing Verdi heroines, that it is almost impossible to chose one above others. I'm going to buck the trend and NOT choose Violeta from La Traviata, because that would be too easy. After all, Violeta is the focal point of La Traviata, and history has proven again and again that the public is wild for a consumptive courtesan. In contrast, Leonora is perfectly privileged and healthy, she is a lady in waiting to the Spanish Queen, whose one misfortune in life happens to be her questionable taste in men (as is often the case in Verdi's operas). Il Trovatore is known to be a vehicle for the tenor, but a good Leonora can steal the opera from under him, especially in the final act, and Maria Callas easily does just that.

Recommended: EMI's 1956 recording with di Steffano, Barbieri, and Panerai is really to die for. I have no notes! Here's a tasty snack to sample.

3. Medea (in Cherubini's Medea)

Some roles are so mythic that you need someone approaching demigodhood in order to pay them proper homage. Medea may have been a controversial figure in Greek mythology, but also an absolute badass and a powerful sorceress not to be fucked with. Callas imbued her with all the righteous rage that fueled her, but also with a keen humanity and vulnerability. I dare you to listen to any of her Medea recordings and not to come out of the experience rooting for those babies to be stabbed all the way dead. Hahahah just kidding. (Or am I?)

Recommended: Any of her studio or live recordings of Medea are great, but do yourselves a favor and listen to this 1953 LIVE recording conducted by Leonard Bernstein (yes that Bernstein). You will get the chills, I swear to all the gods. HER POWER!!!!

2. Tosca (in Puccini's Tosca)

This was my first complete opera recording that I purchased for what would later accidentally turn into my Maria Callas collection. I have listened to it more times than I care to admit, but in my defense, it was life changing. The way that Callas spits "ASSASSINO!!!" into Scarpia's face during the Act II torture scene. *chef's kiss* I get goosebumps to this day. The recording in question was was 1965, very late in her career, and by some accounts not when she was in her "best voice". But the sheer power of her artistry, the maturity with which every line is sung and acted, her understanding of the character far exceeds her early career interpretations of the same heroine. This was the Callas I fell in love with - the woman who made me realize opera could be about so much more than pretty singing.

Recommended: Lucky you, here's the full 1965 studio recording with Carlo Bergonzi and Tito Gobi. There are some live recordings available now on Youtube from the same year! But if you're looking for a "prettier" sounding Tosca, there's always her 1953 studio recording.

Norma (in Bellini's Norma)

Haha, how predictable, you might say, but listen - why fuck with perfection? Has anyone since her been able to come anywhere even close in this role? Some big names have tried. Some big names never even got the cojones to try. Some have flirted with recording the famous Casta Diva aria alone. But listen - she was incomparable, show stopping, life changing. When I listen to her sing Norma, I feel like I know what it's like to be in the presence of God.

Recommended: Do yourselves a favor and get the 1955 EMI studio recording. Although really any recording of her singing Casta Diva will make you see angels/fairies/unicorns if you haven't already.

#maria callas #la divina #opera #el is an opera nerd #happy centennial to my goddess!

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ronearoundblindly · 1 year

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We have our period for the first time living with ari we know the drill the potentional stain on the bedsheets the cramping the if I dont get a chocolate now imma kill someone thing lol but but how does Ari act? Does he get nervous and a little Jumpy and keep like a 5 ft distance or is he cuddly and trying to comfort us or does he notice the mood swings and always left his other girlfriend to be alone but he is living here and he is just waiting for instructions for what we want him to do during what I like to say is when "we are bleeding internally"

Oh Dear... a Bedrock and Blueprints long drabble (1.5k)

Warnings for big shock mention of menstruation and its subsequent issues plus some language. (If you think a woman's period should be labeled under Mature, I kindly ask you to shove off because no.) This happens chronologically after this part.

You know better. You do. You simply had to ignore the flutter of pain in your gut last night in favor of more time with Ari. He spent the night at the house with you since today is another joint off-day. What you should have done is insisted on being apart and going back to your old place—the one with all your supplies still in the bathroom.

All you have at the house is the dregs of a panty liner box that is not going to cut it.

After scrubbing out your (un)surprisingly stained underwear first thing in the morning, you saturate the first poor liner in less than ten minutes.

Shit. It’s one of those months.

As you race to clean up the second pair of panties ruined so far, you smother the urge to cry. You can’t leave to ride the bus back to your apartment or to the store; there’s no way a makeshift toilet paper pad will help for that long. Ari doesn’t sleep in that long either.

He’s none the wiser as he wakes and stretches, ignoring you locked in the bathroom. He wanders into the kitchen and yells out about breakfast. He starts texting you the grocery list for the afternoon. You suggest you both go immediately, and treat yourselves to a breakfast sandwich from the little coffee shop inside, framing it as a little date. You would not be convincing if this exchange weren’t over text, but Ari doesn’t mention that it’s weird. He’s just inventorying the fridge while you dress quickly.

Then you have to shoo him in to dress himself.

Even the minute and a half he takes is too long, and you already have to redo your temporary triage.

He starts to notice something when you insist he start the truck and return with a blotchy red face and swollen eyes.

“Allergies. Let’s just go.”

You don’t want to explain why after thirteen years of surviving consistent wear, Ari’s truck might not survive the Uteran Holocaust if he doesn’t step on the gas. Ok, fine, that’s dramatic, but you’re very emotional, glancing at the dashboard clock every thirty seconds and feeling your padding slowly crumble from onslaught after onslaught.

He parks and thinks to get breakfast first.

NOPE.

You tell him you’ll just get the list out of the way so you both can enjoy your food, and you’ll take the half of the store with pharmacy aisles. He tries to argue about frozen foods and letting them sit, but you’re already out and running. No, you don’t actually run, but you need to hurry up and buy a box of proper, heavy-duty supplies and get to the restroom as fast as possible. You chose black underwear and black jeans, but today is not the day to relive that one time all those years ago… Yikes. Move. You can’t even consider it.

In record time, you have all the other necessities in your basket. Before you now sits an empty section of the brand you usually get—of fucking course—so you grab the more expensive one. At this point, you’ll sell your kidney just to be rid of your lady parts for the week. In the basket, the box goes, and again, you practically run to the…extremely long line at every cashier and the self-serve lanes.

Fuck, you think as you start to tear up, biting your lip hard to stop an aggravated whimper getting out.

“Shoot,” Ari says casually behind you. “You want me to get breakfast while you’re in line or the other way ar—“

“Just take this,” you choke, shoving the basket into his hands and fishing out your wallet to toss on top. “I have to—I can’t—“ there’s a tiny, sickening surge down below which warns you that the toilet paper wad isn’t going to make it through the line “—just—“

You don’t even finish the sentence, walking off as fast as your tight thighs will let you, and a sharp cramp nearly takes you to your knees in the middle of the walkway. Luckily, you make it to the toilet, bringing a new batch of toilet paper to your face so you can have a nice sob.

You’re in there a while. Too long.

Between rushes of dripping blood and painful stabs, you can’t move. You don’t want to. You’ll just keep crying from embarrassment. Then you think of poor Ari sitting at the café alone, staring shocked at a box labeled ‘Max Protection,’ and you’re dying inside because this is the worst possible moment to—

“Hello?”

Panicked, you hold your breath to muffle your crying.

The door swings shut.

“Hello, hun, I’ve been…” two low heels stop in front of your stall “…sent to give you these. A very nice gentleman is quite worried out there.”

Your loud sniffle gives you away, and the exact box you picked up earlier appears below the door.

“Thank you,” you mumble, taking the offering.

“No problem,” the woman says easily, using the toilet farthest from yours.

She’s still washing her hands when you emerge, a complete wreck.

“Oh dear,” she coos. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

She wets paper towels to pat your heated face while you wash, too. She’s a nice, motherly sort without an ounce of judgment anywhere in her features.

When you’re all dry, emotions steeled again, she cups your face gently in her hands. “Ready?”

No, but yes, you guess. You have to leave some time.

Ari’s leaning against the wall outside the door, startling when you step out. His mouth opens, but nothing discernable escapes. Instead, he glances back at the woman and thanks her. All he gets is a wave behind her head; she’s already halfway to the produce.

You tuck the open box into one of the bags at Ari’s feet, wiping automatically at your face again.

He’s very quiet when he asks, “hungry or home?”

“I don’t want to here, but…” Your scratchy voice fades away, not looking right at Ari.

He holds out the keys. “How about you wait out there while I get us some food, yeah? Sound good?”

You nod and sniffle again, bending to pick up a few bags.

Ari’s hand comes out, stopping you. “Absolutely not, honey. Just go relax.”

If you say thank you out loud, the thin façade you’ve manifested will dissolve into tears again. You simply take the keys and go.

In the truck, your body settles slightly, leaving plenty of room for the shame of the morning to take over. A few more tears fall silently before he’s back with your favorite snack and a big drink.

Ari pops open the dash and takes out two painkillers from his work stash, offering them with sad sky eyes.

He’s surprisingly chatty about all the tiniest inconveniences and odd behavior from the checkout line, but you know what he’s doing. You appreciate it. After finishing his food at a ravenous wolf’s pace, he starts to drive, letting you curl up against his side while you nibble and sip. Not a single question or concern is raised until you’re home.

He doesn’t get out right away, instead wrapping his arm around you.

“You could have told me, woman,” Ari grumbles into your hair, rubbing at your shoulder. “Have to tell me what you need,” he whispers, “know I can’t read minds.”

In your best bratty voice, you sneer. “Then what use are you?”

Ari laughs, his chest shaking you with the force. “Chauffeur, obviously.”

He hauls the groceries inside.

The rest of your day off together is full of lounging on the couch and junk food. Ari is delighted that you want as many snacks as he does, and he leaps up at your slightest request, even offering to carry you to the bathroom when a cramp hits you mid-stand.

To preserve some semblance of dignity, you refuse the lift but request the heating pad in exchange.

It’s too hot for Ari to lay behind you with the pad, so you put your head in his lap and he runs his fingers through your hair while feeding you popcorn kernel by kernel through a marathon of your comfort show.

As you get ready for bed, you find him holding up the box in the bathroom, halting in the doorway, shocked.

“Next time, will you show me where these are? I can just pick them up for you.” Replacing them in your drawer, he shrugs. “Would be easier,” he concludes.

What a bizarre moment to think of how much you love this man for the first time, but you know it’s different. It’s not your friend-love, it’s not infatuation, and it’s not lust. It’s no one of those things anymore. You just love Ari Levinson. Simple as that.

You feel it as definitively as any cramp, but this is an oh-so-nice swell of sensation. You feel safe to be yourself, on your best and worst days, because Ari sees that you aren’t perfect. He couldn’t care less as long as you end up tangled and comfy with him in that bed.

[Next Part; Main Masterlist]

#ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson imagine #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson fluff #ari levinson drabble #ari levinson x reader #bedrock and blueprints #series #fluff and feels #fluff #hurt/comfort

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zenia-7 · 4 months

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Hidden Chapter of Tryst - the morning after the tryst

That morning Edwina and Kate had sat with Lady Danbury and their mother at breakfast.

"Edwina, are you not excited? Today you will become Viscountess Bridgerton!" Mary said, daintily spearing a wedge of potato with her fork.

Edwina shook her head, looking over at Kate, who encouraged her with a nod. "Mother, I must tell you, last night I realized that Lord Bridgerton and I do not have a true love match."

Mary set down her fork with controlled gentility. "What do you --"

"And... and I do not intend to go through with the wedding," Edwina added hurriedly, her tears resurfacing.

Mary smiled falteringly. "Oh, my dear, it is not unusual to have cold feet..."

"It is not cold feet, Mother," Edwina insisted. "He does not love me, and I cannot imagine myself living under --"

"How can you be so sure?" Lady Danbury's eyes were mere slits.

"I... I snuck to Bridgerton House and overheard the brothers talking in the billiard room."

Mary and Lady Danbury shared shocked expressions. "Overheard? You mean spied upon!" Lady Danbury exclaimed. "Tell us what happened."

"From their banter it was clear that Lord Bridgerton was not enthused about our marriage bed."

Lady Danbury tutted. "Gentlemen's talk, Edwina, that is all that --"

"And I tried to kiss him!" Edwina said, her eyes large at the confession.

"What?!" Lady Danbury said, her cutlery clattering to her dish. "What the devil were you thinking? That is not behavior becoming of a future Viscountess! I would not be surprised if he called off the wedding!"

Edwina and Kate shared a look. "I told him I did not want to proceed with it," Edwina confessed, her voice small.

Lady Danbury's eyes burned, her mouth pursed into a tight ball. "It is rare to find a match as desirable as this, and to also expect it to fulfill all your fantasies for romance? It is simply not reasonable. I can only hope he made excuse for you based on your immaturity."

Edwina stayed still, her hand at her mouth.

"Well? Did he?" Lady Danbury insisted.

"He said he would request the Queen cancel the wedding this morning," Edwina blurted out.

"Pardon?!" Lady Danbury said, her eyebrows rising impossibly. "He agreed to calling off the wedding?"

"He respected my choice," Edwina said.

Then we must try to intercept him," Lady Danbury said, her mind running swiftly through the consequences to determine the best route. "Heaven knows what damage he might incur." Her gaze landed on her footman who had just appeared at the doorway.

"My Lady, a carriage from the palace has arrived. The Queen requires Edwina's presence."

Lady Danbury got up and headed to the door in a blur. "Gather yourselves. We must go post-haste," she said behind her shoulder.

It was not quick enough. Lord Bridgerton had already made his attempt, and the Queen had already taken full control of the careening situation. Lady Danbury's attempts to mitigate the damage were quickly dispatched, leaving her to merely observe broodingly as the Queen made her calculated moves. After she dismissed them, keeping Anthony in her clutches, the four of them stood silently in the waiting room. Lady Danbury's brow was lined with dark foreboding.

"What do you think she means to do?" Edwina asked nervously.

Lady Danbury's mouth bent downward in an unoptimistic frown. "She will try to keep her reputation unscathed. Her solution may not be as favorable to ours."

Edwina paced nervously.

"Let us sit down," Mary encouraged. "We do not know for sure what she intends to do until she tells us, so we should try to keep a hopeful outlook."

Edwina and Lady Danbury begrudgingly agreed.

Kate remained standing, as if she did not feel she could remain still for long.

Brimsley reentered the waiting room and headed towards the door.

"Mr. Brimsley, I should like to get some fresh air, if it is not too much trouble," Kate said.

"Of course, my Lady, I will show you to the gardens." They left together then, the door clicking closed quietly.

"What if... what if she forces me to proceed with it?" Edwina asked.

"Then you shall," Lady Danbury intoned, brooking no argument.

Edwina buried her face in her hands. The minutes passed as they waited.

They turned as they heard the waiting room door open and stood up in shock as a peacock strutted in.

"What the devil," Lady Danbury whispered under her breath.

They watched in disbelief as Brimsley scattered grain on the rug and clucked his tongue for the peacock to follow him.

When the door to the Queen's audience room clicked shut, Edwina and Mary both looked to Lady Danbury for an explanation.

"I have no idea," Lady Danbury supplied.

#hidden chapters #bridgerton #kanthony

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avelera · 9 months

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I was messing around in BG3 with the casual/camp clothing and gave Karlach Asterion’s frilly shirt, the one with the tight pants and the sleeves rolled to the elbows and the low laced neckline and I…

Ladies

Lesbeans…

Do yourselves a favor. Give Karlach Asterion’s casual clothes at least once. As a treat.

#Gale looks like a romance hero in it too #somehow Asterion’s looks the least hot in his frilly shirt #I think the white washes his complexion out #bg3 #I gave Asterion a VERY fancy gold embroidered coat to make up for it #but dear lord dear lord holy shit #Karlach and Gale looks so damn good in that shirt

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anonymousewrites · 8 months

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One Hell of a Love (Book 2) Chapter Twenty-One

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Chapter Twenty-One: One Hell of an Identity

Summary: The battle converges into a single room with humans, demons, and reapers pitted against each other and the reanimated horde.

“Back off!” shouted Edward, monitoring the boarding of the lifeboats. “Women and children first! Just look at the sight of you! How can you call yourselves English gentlemen?!”

“Edward!” cried Elizabeth upon seeing him.

“Lizzie!” He embraced her as she ran to him. “I’m so happy to see you well!” He glanced at the sword at her side. “It must have been hard for you.”

“Forgive me,” said Ciel. “It was entirely due to my helplessness.”

“You said it,” huffed Edward. “But fine, my lecture can wait. Now you two get on a boat, quick as you can—”

“Edward, I have a favor to ask of you,” said Ciel. He gestured to Snake. “Put him on the boat in my stead.” Snake and Ciel’s eyes widened. “I can’t get onto a boat yet.”

“…Alright. I’ll take care of him,” said Edward.

Elizabeth moved forward urgently. “If Ciel is to stay, I shall stay t—!”

Sebastian gently struck the back of her neck, and she collapsed, unconscious, into Edward’s arms. “I beg your pardon, sir,” said Sebastian.

“Butler!” exclaimed Edward.

“It appeared that convincing Lady Elizabeth would take some time, so I resorted to a rough measure,” said Sebastian. “Please mete out whatever punishment you see fit at a later time.”

“No, you have my thanks,” said Sebastian. “It’s possible for me to attack my sister from behind.”

“My Lord, the ship’s listing is worsening,” said (Y/N) to Ciel, keeping their balance as easily as a cat.

Ciel nodded and looked to Edward. “Its foundering is but a matter of time. Please leave the ship and get as far away from it as you can. And take care of Lizzie and Snake. Let’s go, Sebastian, (Y/N).”

“Yes, my Lord,” said Sebastian.

“Yes, sir,” said (Y/N).

“You don’t need to come back, you know!” shouted Edward. “I’m perfectly fine with not having to give away my adorable little sister’s hand!” Beneath the harsh words, however, there was something of concern as if Edward was challenging Ciel to come back, even if just for Lizzie.

“I shall return, I assure you,” said Ciel, accepting the challenge.

And then they were heading once more into the belly of the beast, braving the halls of the ship as walking corpses, flooding, and listing threatened their wellbeing.

Near the First Class hall, however, they came upon someone else who wasn’t trying to escape. (Y/N) cocked their head in surprise.

“The Viscount of Druitt?” said Ciel in surprise.

“And who are you?” said Druitt. “How do you know who I am?”

(Y/N), Ciel, and Sebastian deadpanned. (Y/N) glanced down at themself. They hadn’t even really made a disguise during the Aurora Society’s meeting, and they looked the same. So either blood on the skirt really changes an appearance or he’s just a self-obsessed idiot. (Y/N)’s money was on the second option.

“Well, I suppose it is indeed difficult to not know of me as I’m celebrated in society circles for being the personification of beauty,” sighed Druitt dramatically.

It’s definitely the second option.

“With all due respect, what are you doing in a place like this Viscount?” said Sebastian. “The walking dead are ambling through this vessel as we speak.”

Druitt smirked and gestured behind him. Four people carrying a large device turned around the corner behind him. “There’s something here that I dare not leave on this sinking ship, even if it means exposing myself to mortal danger. To begin with, those corpses amount to nothing more than useless dolls to me—Oh, dear.” He smiled. “I’m nattered on for too long. If you’ll excuse me.”

(Y/N), Sebastian, and Ciel exchanged looks. They knew what they had to do for his trust.

“The eternal flame in this breast,” said Sebastian.

Druitt perked up and turned to them. “Cannot be quenched by anyone! We are—”

“Phoenix!” All four spoke and posed together.

“Ah!” said Druitt happily. “So you were comrades! Speaking of, I do get the feeling we’ve met before.”

At least he hasn’t started the poetry session, thought (Y/N).

“That contraption! Can it perhaps stop the movements of those corpses?” asked Ciel quickly.

“Where did you learn that?” said Druitt somberly.

“I knew it,” said Ciel. “Then you’re—.”

Druitt turned before Ciel could continue. “If you wish to know, follow me. I shall allow you to bear witness as well. To the advent of a new aurora by way of medicine, that is.”

“Shall we take it by force?” murmured Sebastian as the followed Druitt and the device.

“No, we don’t know how to use it,” said Ciel.

“We have to wait until he activates it, then,” said (Y/N).

A familiar giggle filled the room. One of the men holding the device turned and grinned at the group.

“What the—Undertaker?!” Ciel fought to keep his voice down, but Druitt was too busy daydreaming about his own greatness to notice him. “What are you doing here?!”

“Hiiiya!” said Undertaker. “I was told to help carry this as I was in the middle of running for my life, you seeeee. Then I caught sight of the Earl hollering ‘phoenix’ once more, and—”

“Wipe that from your memory at once!” shouted Ciel in embarrassment. He lowered his voice and whispered, “But more importantly, do you have a clue as to how to work this thing?”

Undertaker grinned. “Can’t say that I do? I wonder if something like this serves any useful purpose at all, you know?”

(Y/N) cocked their head, and their nose twitched. What type of a statement was that?

The group arrived in the lounge, and Druitt had the device placed on landing of the staircase at the head of the room.

“Be very cautious with it. It is worth more than your lives,” said Druitt.

“Will you start it up now?” said Ciel.

“Not yet,” said Druitt. “Our cast is still one player short.”

“One player?” said (Y/N), raising an eyebrow.

“Ah!”

Everyone turned to the terrace seating above. Stoker stood beside Ronald and Grell and glared down. “You rat!” shouted Stoker. “Why did you steal the device?!”

“Hello there, Rian. I’ve been waiting for you,” said Druitt. “This day shall mark the fall of your empire in one night, as Pompeii once fell, and the day my new empire was born! With the power of this device, I shall build a new empire!”

“Come again?” said Sebastian, Ciel, and (Y/N) incredulously.

“He who possesses eternity shall rule with immorality and decadent beauty!” Druitt extended a hand to (Y/N). “All the beauties in the world shall serve me so I may only stare into the face of divinity equal to mine! Yes! All beauty shall be mine!”

An irk mark appeared on (Y/N)’s forehead. “He’s crass and insane. May I kill him?”

“No, though I understand the urge,” said Sebastian.

“And it shall be called the Aurora Empire!” declared Druitt.

“This all seems to have gone kinda pear-shaped, huh?” said Ronald in confusion.

Grell’s chainsaw revved to life, and she put a foot on the banister of the balcony. “I’ll make that cad the reddest of reds in the blink of an eye!”

“Easy now!” said Druitt. He tilted his wine glass over the device. “Don’t you care what happens to this machine?”

“Hey, Miss Sutcliff, time out!” Ronald grabbed Grell around the middle before she could do anything rash.

“This is what is called ‘true power!’ I can stand victorious against you all with nothing more than a single wine glass!” Druitt laughed proudly.

“This sense of irritation just grows and grows,” said Sebastian. “May I kill him, Young Master?”

“No, not yet,” said Ciel. “Though I understand the urge.”

Crash!

All the windows and doors of the First Class Lounge shattered as hundreds, possibly thousands, of reanimated corpses jostled to enter and get at the people within.

“Hey! Just look at these numbers!” said Ronald, pulling back.

“Viscount, start the device! Hurry!” cried Ciel.

“Non! I am no longer a Viscount!” declared Druitt melodramatically.

“…Eh?” Everyone blinked.

“ ‘Kaiser!’ I shall start the device if you call me that! You, with the mouth like a robin’s, and you, with the smooth voice of a raven! Call me ‘Kaiser’ and I shall start the device!” said Druitt, winking.

“Let’s kill him now, after all,” said Ciel.

“Please wait, though I understand the urge,” said (Y/N).

The corpses lunged, and battle began. Sebastian dodged and fought while keeping Ciel in his arms, and (Y/N) kept any from getting too close to them. Stoker cowered behind Ronald and Grell as the reapers slashed and sliced.

Druitt…daydreamed. And monologued. “Ooh! Ooh! Gladiators, who put their flesh and blood on the line, whose lives scatter like so many fallen petals! This place is just like a corrupt coliseum! Gazing out as I sip my wine, I truly am just like Emperor Nero!”

As someone who has fought in a coliseum, they are all corrupt, and Nero was overthrown, thought (Y/N).

“Can we kill him now?!” said Ronald in frustration.

“Let me get this straight, you just stopped me, didn’t you?!” Grell huffed and glared at Druitt. “Hey, you! Get a move on and start that thing up, would you?!”

“Very well. The time for the founding of my empire is upon us at last.” Druitt raised his wine glass. “Now, then. All of you! Show me the dance of the phoenix in pledging your allegiance to your Kaiser!”

“Never mind, let’s kill him,” said (Y/N), Sebastian, Ciel, Grell, and Ronald.

Undertaker giggled from the side of the landing. “Dear, dear. But if he’s dead, you’ll never figure out what that mystery contraption can do.”

“What is it?! Come on now!” declared Druitt.

Every person in the hall swallowed their pride and resigned themselves to humiliation.

“The eternal flame in this breast cannot be quenched by anyone…We are the new phoenix!”

They posed in Druitt’s variation, even more ridiculous than the first.

“Well played, comrades!” said Druitt in satisfaction. “Now I shall show you the army of death that bows before me!” He pressed a button on the side of the device.

…Nothing.

Everyone turned blank as they watched the device do…nothing.

The growl of the horde of reanimated humans broke through the silence. Ciel, Sebastian, and (Y/N) turned to the approaching group warily, and Ronald and Grell lifted their Death Scythes again. Undertaker rolled around on the ground and laughed hysterically while Druitt stared at the device in confusion.

“What are you playing at?!” shouted Ciel, glaring at Druitt.

“Why, Rian!” exclaimed Druitt. “The device you crafted is useless!”

“I-It can’t be!” cried Stoker.

“Weren’t you the one who made this thing?!” demanded Ciel.

Druitt blinked innocently. “There’s obviously no way I could build a contraption liket his.” Undertaker’s laughter grew louder again.

“You bastard! Did you deceive me?!” demanded Stoker.

(Y/N) glanced up at him as they smashed another skull. Who was he talking to?

“Hah! What a farce this is!” Grell vaulted over the balcony. She tore through a group of reanimated corpses.

“Yeah, he really is something else—!” Ronald’s eyes went wide in panic. “Hey, wait, Miss Sutcliffe, ma’am!” Grell lunged for Druitt, her chainsaw whirring to life. “We reapers shouldn’t be goin’ ‘round killing humans, remember?!”

Grell slammed her Death Scythe down on Druitt’s head.

Clang!

The Death Scythe hit an obstacle and stopped. Everyone’s eyes widened in shock. That was impossible. A Death Scythe could cut through anything.

Undertaker raised his head from where he held his cloak up, obscuring whatever he had that blocked Grell’s Death Scythe. “Hee, hee!” He grinned as he watched Druitt faint. “It’s been ages since I laughed this hard. In my humble opinion, losing such an amusing chap would amount to a loss to this world.” His grin turned to a smirk. “Wouldn’t you agree with me, hm? My little Grim Reapers?”

“The blade of my Scythe won’t cut through…?!” said Grell.

Undertaker whirled, pushing Grell into the air and revealing he had a collection of sotoba in his cloak. His top hat fell from his head, and a chain of lockets flew around his neck. He grinned. Undertaker threw his arms out and sent several sotoba into Grell as she fell through the air. The reaper was propelled backwards through the glass ceiling of the lounge. Shards fell like rain through the room.

“Young Master!” said Sebastian, covering Ciel. On the same base instinct, he reached for (Y/N) and pulled them to his side, though both demons were cut as it fell.

“Ahh…” Undertaker sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “How said it is—" He pushed his bangs back. “—that laughter should vanish from this place.” He peered out at the group with sharp, green and yellow fluorescent eyes.

“Undertaker?” said Ciel as he looked up over Sebastian’s shoulder.

“He masked his presence most skillfully,” said Sebastian. “His eyes have always been hidden as well, so it escaped me notice.” He narrowed his eyes.

“And he kept himself around death to mask that part of his energy,” said (Y/N), nose twitching in furstration. “It was masterfully done.”

“Same here.” Grell pushed herself to her feet and adjusted her spectacles. “He fooled me good.”

“Miss Sutcliffe, ma’am! Those eyes!” Ronald’s eyes widened.

“Yes,” said Grell. “That chartreuse phosphorescence, without a doubt, can only belong to…a Grim Reaper!”

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flamingo-writes · 2 years

Text

Sketch – e.m.

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Based from this post.

A/N: I am down bad for this man. And particularly hungry for fluffy content. That and I absolutely love writing first kisses. Will I write a second part of this? Who knows.

Summary: You ask Eddie to help you out for one of your projects. And you two spend up some time by yourselves. Eddie can’t stop thinking about how incredibly adorable you look when you’re too focused doing your thing.

Genre: fluff, pointless fluff. Mutual pining, two dumbasses in love.

Word Count: 4K of pure fluff!!

Warnings: none that I can think off. Perhaps suggestive themes towards the end.

"No, sugar…" Eddie chuckled, "You don't realize how crazy must you be to be called crazy by Eddie Munson himself" Raising an eyebrow he gave you a feign apologetic smile that didn't reach his eyes.

In his mind, he was more focused, paying close attention to the way your eyebrows knitted together and your lips puckered in a pout framing your puppy eyes in such a delightful way he wanted to ingrain in his memory forever. You, his favorite girl out of everyone at school, begging him for a favor he would've agreed to in a heartbeat if it wasn't for his friends watching everything unfold. The fast and strong beating of his heart, as well as the presence of his friends there only made him more uncomfortable. The blush subtly starting to tint his cheeks made him wonder how transparent he was. And in an attempt to deflect the attention, he cleared his throat.

"Oh, please Eddie!" You whined. "I've done so many drawings for your Dungeons and Dragons club!" You cried out "Do this one thing for me!"

Oh, poor Eddie Munson was smitten. If he could he'd give you the moon and stars in a silver tray, but then again, his friends there made it hard for him to open up. In fact, when it was just the two of you he was gentler, even sweeter and playful. And the fact that you too noticed this difference in his behavior made you tell yourself you should’ve waited for everyone to leave the classroom before you decided to go talk to the Dungeon Master himself.

Your feelings for Eddie were far too obvious, the rest of the Hellfire Club found it endearing. Perhaps, at times they thought how manipulative was of Eddie to constantly ask you to do drawings and sketches of the characters in their club. Perhaps, sometimes going as far to help Eddie design maps and dungeons. But, what they didn't know was that Eddie corresponded to each and every one of your feelings. Constantly asking for your help was merely an excuse to spend time with you.

In the beginning, he did ask you to sketch his Dungeons and Dragons character after he once saw you sketching some cool dragon during lunch break. The fact that he found you pretty was a plus. Any excuse to get to sit down with an attractive lady such as yourself who could draw and showed an interest for fantasy, he couldn't ask for more. What he didn't expect was for a friendship to bloom from that one favor. And soon, you were the Hellfire Club’s artist and honorary member. When Eddie took the mantle of the Dungeon Master, you somehow became part his of creative process.

Somewhere along the lines you started growing feelings for him. But how could you not? Whenever it was just the two of you he truly was a Prince Charming. Gentle, caring, his flamboyant demeanor always made you laugh; he showed you such a soft side of him you were sure no one else saw. The way he made you feel truly special for being the only one who saw the sweet side of Eddie "The Freak" Munson. How could you not fall for that?

“Sugar," He began with a soft chuckle, "let me get this straight, you want me to pose for your life drawing workshop?”

While Eddie liked being watched by an audience, however, something about this audience paying close attention to his every detail did irk him up. Especially because he couldn't be his usual theatrical self, and instead had to sit still. Something he could hardly do, even in class, and deal with having to sit through periods by bouncing his leg.

“Not exactly,” You sighed, catching Eddie’s attention even further. “Just for me, for my final project"

His heart stopped as he played an entire film in his mind. Eddie playfully rolled his eyes and smirked. Trying to pretend like he wasn’t more than in on it all. And again, it was not to keep appearances to you, it was to keep his facade as the unachievable freak, flamboyant and obnoxious guy even bullies are scared of.

“What terms and conditions, sweetheart?" He followed up, looking at you with soft eyes and a cheeky grin as he rested his chin on his knuckles.

“l would love to draw you on your throne" You replied, reading all too well past his cold stone persona, and staring into the Eddie that took your breath away with every glance he shot at you.

“You know I like being looked at, and your taking advantage of it” He chuckled, as you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Said the guy who constantly asks me to draw for him, you know I like drawing…”

Eddie opened his mouth as to say something but nothing came of it. He shot you a smirk. The kind of satisfied smirk he’d put on when he had no comeback, admitting his defeat rather honorably. The kind of smile that made you weak on the knees.

“Come on, Ed," You whispered, your frown softening "It'll be just you and me, it wont even be in the drawing classroom... As long as I have light, it can be anywhere…"

Anywhere, he liked the sound of that. He looked down, chewing on the inside of his lip. He felt the stares of his friends, as if pressuring him for an answer. And everyone in the Hellfire Club had warmed up to you, to the point of giving you a shirt of your own, despite not actually playing D&D yourself, and all these guys were hoping Eddie would agree, because even the rest of the guys, felt persuaded by your cute pout and adorable eyes, not knowing, Eddie had made his mind the moment you first brought it up.

"Alright!" He said standing from his chair, clapping once before resting his hands on his waist. "When’s your project due?"

"Next week…" You replied, as you saw his cocky smile soon turned into a more gentler one.

–

Before your deadline on Friday, you were going to hand in a draft on Wednesday with whatever you had so far. So, on Monday after classes, Eddie took you to the vacant classroom where they usually got together form campaigns. A place you were very familiar with, and had been with Eddie alone countless of times, but for some reason this time felt different. Weirdly intimate.

Instead of doing planning with him or drawing fictional original characters, this time you were drawing Eddie himself. The face you’d seen so much, even in your dreams, was going to stay still, for you, for a while.

"It is in my biggest honor to welcome you home, princess" He said pushing the door open for you as you walked in and stared at the famous throne you were going to be drawing today. “Can I ask you something?" He asked.

"You want to know why I wanna dray you of all people?" You whispered, already anticipating his question.

"My clever girl never ceases to surprise me” He chuckled, his comment making your cheeks burn and your breath shorten.

“The first time you brought me here, l was surprised by how all of this looked…" You explained. "Especially after you became the DM…I don’t know, you fit perfectly in the throne"

Your compliment washed over his ego, making something in his chest –and his pants– feel warmer. He watched you as you looked around the room, taking notice of every single detail as if it was the first time you’d been there. But it didn’t take long for Eddie to realize you were taking as many of the details you were seeing to include them in your drawing.

"You know, I’ve always thought this whole set up is incredibly…Well planned?” You said, not sure if that was the word you were looking for. “It’s pretty easy to submerge yourself in the game when your surroundings look like this”

“Well, darling, it did take us a lot of work to decorate so it looked like the epic hideout it is” Eddie said opening his arms and gesturing vaguely everywhere in the room.

“Yeah, I know. You told me…You took one of your grandmother’s chairs and added stuff to it in the carpentry workshop you took last year? That’s pretty rad” You complimented, managing to paint his cheeks pink. “The candles, the Christmas lights to avoid turning on the actual lights from the classroom so it looks darker and ominous? I’m very impressed with all the work you’ve all done” You said as Eddie walked closer to you and gently grabbed you by the shoulders.

“You sure know how to flatter someone’s work” He purred and kissed your forehead.

It wasn’t a new occurrence, really. He’d every so often kiss your head or your forehead, whenever you made a drawing for him, or on your birthday or whenever you went to him telling him how you’d gotten another good grade. And god, every time he did, you could feel your feelings bubbling up in your mouth, wanting to rush out of your mouth like word vomit. You were so into him it was stupid. Especially because you knew he knew about them.

“Nothing but an artist recognizing another artist’s work…” You replied giving him a smile.

“So, what can I do for my fair lady, tonight?” He said walking towards his throne and sitting on it, as he stretched his legs and rest them over the table.

You looked at him as the idea sparked your mind. With wide eyes, you walked around him, looking for the best spot to get your drawing from. Eddie stared back at you curiously, with a subtle smirk on his face.

“Just stay there” You said as you pulled one of the chairs and placed it in front of Eddie and got your things out.

“Bossy” He said with the playful smile he’d have every so often as you shot him a glare.

“Look who’s talking” You teased back as he let a low chuckle escape his lips. “We don’t have a lot of time, babe. The school will be closing soon…”

“Yeah, I know. I’m thinking of getting a basic sketch of you and focusing on the details right now, and tomorrow I can work on your part of the sketch…” You said as you started running your pencil over the paper, getting a general layout of everything as well as marking very lightly some shadows.

Eddie watched you soon get lost in your sketchbook, every now and then looking up and taking him in your sight, as your focused eyes scanned him like he’d never seen you before. You looked so focused, taking in as many details as you could from him, making him feel strangely exposed, almost even naked. As the thought sprouted in his mind, he soon shook that thought of his head. And soon, another idea came to his mind.

His time in this school was running out, just like yours. And while you were clearly into him, and he was better at keeping his feelings concealed, he never really understood why he never decided to make a move. And he knew that every passing day just made it harder and harder. Perhaps he was scared of the slim chances of you rejecting him, or perhaps the idea that you two don’t work out and ultimately ends up losing you. But if you two graduated, and took different paths in life, that would be like losing you too, right? And he couldn’t bear the thought of it.

“Hey,” He broke the silence, his heart climbing all the way to his throat.

“Yeah?”

“We can…after this go back to my place. I mean, it’s not the same set up, but there’s some dim lights and, you can keep..you know, doing your thing” He said. “Working your magic…” He couldn’t understand why he felt so nervous inviting you over to his place, you had been to his place before.

You looked at him, your eyes wide and your smile growing just as much.

“Ed, that’s brilliant! Yes!” He felt the tension releasing through his shoulders as you seemed to be on board with the idea. “I can finish this today, and work on details tomorrow and it’ll be ready for Wednesday” You said, pretty relieved actually as you had other projects to work on as well.

–

Going to Eddie's place for the first time ever made you feel a weird twist in your guts. Normally you'd go there and help Ed with his campaign planning, and sometimes it wasn't even just about drawing; sometimes you helped him brainstorm. Again, any excuse that implied spending time with Eddie was good. However, some how, this time around felt... different. Was it because this time around was because it was you who needed his help and not the other way around.

"So, " He began “ I'm at your disposition, princess " He said bowing.

Grabbing your backpack, you took out your sketchbook and opened it on his sketch, he pecked over your shoulder as he world very often do and whistled impressed. The sketch was still halfway done, however, you'd managed to do quite an extraordinary job at drawing his throne and every little detail surrounding it keeping the shadows and lights so spot on, Eddie could almost feel the warmth from the candles behind his throne, just by staring at your drawing. His surroundings perfectly transferred into the paper, however the blank space, shaped in his silhouette was still faded, very light and subtle guide lines that waiting for you to shape into him.

You instructed Eddie to sit on his bed, taking a similar posture as he'd done back in the classroom. And you soon started sketching him. Once again, your eyes shifted a focused trance. Your usual wide, cheerful eyes soon changed into serious observant orbs that every so often look at him. And while he knew you were merely taking in his physical appearance, he swore you could stare into his soul and read his thoughts.

He had to admit, he felt weirdly watched, and tried to maintain a conversation you, mostly for the sake of his nerves. And he actually appreciated your efforts in trying to go with the conversation without losing your focus. But he knew he was distracting you. And god, you looked stunning. He couldn't stop thinking about how that focused look in you made him feel hopelessly lost in you. God, he wish he could peek in your mind the way he felt you were peeking into him.

With his heart in his mouth and a dizzying fever making him feel almost high, he couldn't endure that stare of yours any longer, he needed to say something. And right now seemed like the perfect time.it was just the two of you, graduation day just around the corner, and the odd intimate atmosphere.

If he had a golden chance, this was it.

“Have I ever told you how pretty you look when you're all focused in your drawings?" Eddie said, breaking the silence once more.

His sudden compliment soon clawed to your cheeks making them heat up as your heart soon caught up with it, making you feel flustered.

"Stop" You said, smiling softly, not wanting to externalize how much his comment made you all mushy and weak on the inside.

Despite your biggest efforts, he was able to see right through you, smiling at the effect he had on you.

“But I mean it, babe. I mean,” He said with a confident smirk, fueled by the look in your eyes and the way you were clearly avoiding his stare “You look pretty always, but its mesmerizing to see you draw…” his voice softened and soon faded out.

And you finally met his stare. Feeling time stop, as everything you could hear was your heartbeat. Your eyes met his black orbs, feeling like the world was spinning way faster as you could hear eating voice at the back of your head, telling you something was going to happen. And your hearts the world, and time seemed to stop for the longest second in your life after he spoke.

“You know that I like you a lot, right?”

God. Nothing could ever compare to the way those words felt.The longest second of your life stretched, as you repeated his words over and over again. Never had you felt a high as this one, your mind clinging to this absolute bliss washing over your body as your heart raced. Still looking at him, your eyes widened with an euphoric surprise as you felt this urge to rush to his lap and kiss him. Melt against his lips and feel his heart beat next to yours.

Your grip loosened and you dropped your pencil as you threw you notebook on the floor next to your backpack as you stood up, walking towards him. His own heart raced at an unimaginable speed with every step you took towards him.

“I like you too, Ed” You whispered, making him feel light headed, almost as he was drunk.

“I know you do…” he whispered as he moved clover to the edge of his bed, looking at you curiously as you stood in front of him “What is my little princess doing?" he said as your thighs gently bumped against his knees.

“Little princess” You whispered, his smirk grew even further and he sat up, nearing the edge of the bed, as his hands slowly stretched to your hips.

“Like that nickname? I can also call my M'Lady…" He purred smiling as he slowly pulled you closer, making you sit on his lap, straddling him.

You blushed and looked down, feeling your entire body growing hotter, as you sat on his hips. Your heart beating in your ears as your guts continued to twist in your stomach. Feeling his touch burning through the thick denim of your shorts as his hands moved down, eventually reaching the naked skin of your thighs. His dark eyes taking you in, capturing that moment forever in his memory as he had a dumbfounded and sleepy stare.

You pulled up a hand to his cheek, as he closed his eyes and leaned against your warm soft palm. A pleased him escaped his lips. You smiled and brought your other hand to his face, and admired his face. The face many people feared and looked with disdain, and the same face who often sarcastically glared at others and theatrically called out those who gave him strange looks. The same face now relaxed under your touch, looking vulnerable and soft, and you knew no one had seen such a side of Eddie Munson. And you loved it.

"I actually love it when you call me Bunny," You mouthed as he smiled and opened his eyes, slowly, staring at you with melting adoration. "But as long as you call me yours… I don't care, you can call me whatever you want" You replied as you leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his.

Slowly closing his eyes, he sighed deeply, leaning himself as his nose brushed yours in a shy movement. Nothing could describe how he felt right now. Eddie, who had had his fair share of random party hook ups, and weird casual flings when he’s getting high with someone who just bought drugs from him. But he never actually felt the intimacy of being this close to someone he cared for. The dim lights now seemingly radiant, and his skin reacting to every single move you made, and every noise making his ears spike up attentively. That discreet hunger of holding you and wishing for time to stop. No matter how many times he had sex, and how many of them were while being high, nothing compared to this love drunken and tender moment. He felt shy, and going as far as feeling like a total noob. And truth was, he had never been with someone he liked this much.

"You're killing me here, babe…" His voice echoed and rumbled through your bones as you felt your breath shorten. "Kiss me already, Bunny" He added, and your brain felt like the lightest thing in earth, light enough to pull you past the stratosphere.

"Manners, Munson" You managed to reply with a sly smirk, making him chuckle as he pulled back and opened his eyes to look at you with the same desiring and innocent look in his pitch black eyes,

"M'Lady," He began, stealing a soft giggle from your throat as your hands slid down his cheeks to his neck, and making him shiver lightly, "I humbly ask of you could please, give me a kiss already. Pretty please?"

And without wasting any more time, you leaned forward. Closing your eyes as he gave you a last curious a look before closing his eyes as well, your nose shyly lingered against his. Smirking, he used one of his fingers to lift your chin and pulled you closer. His lips, warm and soft like you’d always imagined met yours in a static awkward kiss at first. And feeling your heart wanting to jump out of your chest, your lips soon locked with his, as your breath shuddered. Eddie’s lips lovingly molding to yours as he stole your breath. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, holding him close, as your chest pressed against his. His hands leaving your thighs to wrap around your body as well, clinging to you like you were the best to happen to him. And god, you were. Eddie could not believe the ecstatic, euphoric state he was in. A desire to feel you closer, even closer to him took over, as he wanted to savor this moment with every inch of his being. He wanted to taste the universe in your lips, and memorize every inch of your skin, and make himself at home underneath your skin.

He moaned softly against your lips, making a shiver run down your spine as your fingers found their way in his thick hair, brushing it slowly, gently tugging on it, making him feel more and more lost in the kiss. He moaned again, his hands sliding down your back, as he let go of your waist and brought his hands up to your face, cupping your face in his big hands as he pulled back, breaking the kiss for a split second before he pecked your lips sweetly a couple of times before he pressed another deep and hungry kiss against your lips, this time, making you moan. Shy, low and sweet, the sound of your voice echoed, making his lower half feel hot. And with your weight on top of him, you could tell your moan had made his body react, you could feel it. Shyly, you broke the kiss, looking at him with heavy lidded eyes, and breathless.

"Eddie," You gasped, catching your breath as his eyes scanned your flustered face, gluing to your plumped wet lips.

"Yes, princess?"

"Ca-can we…take it slow?" You purred. "I-I’ve…never…you know…"

He chuckled softly, pulling back as his hands remained in your boiling cheeks. He stared at you with a sleepy stare and a lazy smile. He leaned closer pecking your lips.

"So that means you’re mine now?" He purred and moved to the corner of your lips, pressing another kiss before pulling back, looking at you.

His dark eyes engulfing you, making you feel lost in them, as you could swear you could feel what Eddie was feeling right now. And God, it made you glad that he corresponded your feelings. That he seemingly was as head over heels as you were for him.

"Ed…"

He smirked and pressed his forehead to yours as his hands slid down to your shoulders.

"Anything for my baby girl. We can take it as slow as you want…"

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