#the plot thickens like honey

[one-coming-is-enough]

Every angel and demon currently employed with either Heaven or Hell has a way to get in touch with their Home Office. The app is called Discord. You're not sure who invented it, but it's a handy tool for your "back channel" stuff.

A message lands in your inbox. It's from Jesus Christ Himself and is marked URGENT! TOP PRIORITY!! ASAP!!!

You might want to open that.

Hey folks! Just so all the denizens of Hell know... Well, since the heat is out, as you've obviously noticed, I've given Beezlebub and Dagon the OK to start moving anyone who doesn't interface directly with souls as a necessity of their job to move into the empty offices Upstairs.

And since you have My blanket permission, it will not harm any denizen of Hell to enter Heaven until the heat is back on. So, anyone who does paperwork? Get moving to Heaven, you can enter unharmed.

To all angels and saints, especially the archangels... I expect you all to make our visitors feel welcome and show them to a quiet place they can complete their assigned tasks. There is plenty of room in My 1/3 of Heaven, and we are all part of the same company, even if we work on different floors!

Make. It. Work.

My phone is out, so I can only communicate with people in other ways, but I guess Discord is one of those "back channels" I keep hearing about!

Please pass this memo around in case I missed anyone!

@the-archangel-squad @the-angel-muriel @sandalphonsgoldteeth @you-all-forget-my-name @saraqael-the-sarcastic @michaelwiththegoodhair @theangel-aziraphale @thedemon-crowley @ask-eric-the-disposable-demon @ask-the-archangel-michael @fishyfiles @lower-management @duke-hastur @duke-of-torment @ligur-duke-of-hell

#good omens rp #the plot thickens like honey

[the-metatron]

bro who hurt u

@the-almighty-god

#the metatron answers #the voice of god speaks #enoch speaks #pret a metatron #the plot thickens like honey #sort of

[methuselah-son-of-enoch]

* a man enters the coffeeshop, pale and dressed in a hospital gown *

Welcome to Pret-A-Metatron, how may we bless you today?

Oh no...not another one...

#methuselah speaks #pret a metatron #good omens zombie apocalypse #the plot thickens like honey

[enoch-the-human]

HELLO ENOCH.

WHY ARE YOU HUMAN AGAIN? I THOUGHT YOUR CONTRACT SAID YOU WERE AN ANGEL NOW. DID YOU BREAK THE CONTRACT?

@rider-on-a-white-horse

Hello, Azrael. No, I did not break the contract.

Jesus and a rogue group of angels and demons, some of them not even from our universe, decided to play god with forces beyond their understanding and capabilities.

They stole the Book of Life from me and used it to turn me human by changing my name back to Enoch.

They also, apparently, wrote every single name in the Book without notes, putting you out of a job--at least for the duration of this year. There have already been multiple unintended consequences as a result of their foolish actions, as you are already aware.

I'd hope that dim ones have learned their lesson in why they shouldn't meddle with the Great Plan, but I don't have much faith in their intellect at the moment.

#enoch answers #the plot thickens like honey #Enoch is so salty he's not even pretending to be polite

[god-in-the-basement]

@the-almighty-lucifer . @echosghoast . @one-coming-is-enough .

I'm getting ready for the Big Event. How's My wig?

Send word around and see if anyone else is willing to help.

Tell them they'll be handsomely rewarded if it all works out. Anything they could imagine. (Quite literally.)

#good omens rp #the plot thickens like honey

[the-almighty-queen-bee]

stay in the jar

I know it's you, Metatron. Come off anon.

#queen bee buzzes #the plot thickens like honey

[hier--soir]

sun don't set

ellie williams x f!reader

rating: sfw, not explicit summary: life in the little house is calm - quiet. days pass in a blur of fruit and sunshine and companionship. slow mornings, afternoons, and evenings. ellie is slowly rediscovering her love for music, and on that journey, she writes a song about you. warnings/tags: late twenties ellie, set years after the events of tlou2, no spoilers or discussions of plot points in tlou2 - except perhaps the description of an old injury but the way it happened isn't described, established wlw relationship, food and eating, brief description of skinning animals for food, soft soft soft ellie. word count: 1.3k masterlist a/n: this short little thing poured out of me after a nice sunny day and it's maybe one of the softest, sweetest things i've ever written. a slice of life type thing based on the happy ending i hope ellie got x [ALSO the song ellie sings is ronnie's song by odie leigh]

The little house lives in the basin of a valley, circled by sycamore boughs and juniper bushes.

A shallow stream trickles close by.

In the mornings, you eat berries drizzled in honey, sipping warm tea while watching the water. The air is still and quiet, filled only with the sounds of the dribbling brook and teeth sinking into ripe fruit. The first rays of sun arrive and they are safe and warm against your skin, and time moves slowly. Gently.  

You sit on the patio in chairs that she built. Ones that creak and whimper as your weight settles upon them; rickety wood and worn old nails. On the armrest, hers or yours, fingers catch and hold. Thumbs and indexes and pinkies looped together.

In the afternoons, she peels an orange. Spindly fingers tear thick skin, pulling apart perfect segments of flesh – one for you, one for her, one for you, one for her. Together you bite and chew and swallow, jaws and mouths and teeth working in sync. In the silence, you relish the feeling of tasting this together. That burst of juice across your tongues. Wisps of pulp that catch in the cracks of your incisors.

When it’s warm you splay out on the grass, stretching and purring like two cats in the sun. She’s a calico, splotches of white and brown and beige, and you’re a tabby, mottled streaks of burnt orange – wiling away what’s left of your nine lives together.

In the evenings, she returns from her walk. Some days empty handed, others with rabbit or duck or deer trailing behind her. On those days you sit with your knees pressed together, sharp knives peeling back hair and skin and feathers. You eat as the air turns cooler and the sun sets over the hill, an almost endless—always wondrous—burst of oranges and pinks that taint the sky before it turns to black.

Often, you turn in first. Tuck yourself away inside the little house, swathed in blankets; keeping her side of the bed warm. Alone, she reaches for the guitar. Takes it outside and closes the door behind her, so that those soft melodies won’t carry to your ears. With heavy eyelids, your ears pique and strain, eager to listen. But she must stray further than the patio, for you never hear a thing.

Time passes and she joins you soon enough. Her long limbs coil around yours beneath the covers; cold toes press into the skin of your calves. Her hand on your back, those fingers tracing a tickling portrait. The tip of your nose rests in the base of her neck and you breathe in the scent of pine and rosemary and honey on her skin. In the darkness, sinking into her warmth, you feel tenderness thicken the lining of your throat. And together you sleep; at peace knowing that another morning awaits you.

Ellie found the guitar in your fourth year together. Deep brown, layered in dust, the sound hole and fretboard decorated with cobwebs. She didn’t say a word as she slung it over her back and carried it the entire way to the little house. Didn’t offer any explanation when she stashed it away in an empty room. And when you caught her one night, long after sunset, wiping away the dust and tightening the strings, you didn’t ask any questions. Didn’t ask if she was thinking about him – you already knew the answer.  

“It’s hard,” she told you one morning, lips and chin shining with berry juice. “Learning how to play again. How to play… like this.”

Your fingers ghost over the palm of her left hand, splayed on the armrest of her chair. Tracing lines and scars on pale skin until you reach the shortened stumps of her ring and pinkie finger.

“Sometimes the hardest things,” you pick up her hand and lay a soft kiss to each finger, lingering a little longer on those two. “Are the things most worth doing.”

She hums a short response, eyes trained on where your lips touch her skin. Then her hand cups your jaw and brings your face to meet hers, and she smears the taste of blueberries into your mouth.

It’s not until a morning in your fifth year together that you hear it for the first time.

She wanders in from the chicken coop, white and brown eggs cradled in the well of her palms. The wind tousles that short auburn hair, loosening it from behind her ears, and carries her voice through the door to you.

“She’s my… I’m… she’s a coffee cup, I’m tea.”

Your fingers still against the page of your book, and you glance up as she walks through the door, still murmuring under her breath.

“What’s that?” you smile.

“Eggs?” She holds them up, eyebrows pinched defensively—secretively.  

“Ellie,” you laugh. Dog ear the page of your book and tuck it away on the kitchen counter. She nestles the eggs carefully into a bowl and sidles up beside you, hooking an ankle neatly around yours.

“It’s nothing,” her nose brushes against the apple of your cheek, lips chapped and dry from the morning air as they lay a kiss to your jaw. “How do you want your eggs? I’ll make a fire.”

Months pass after that, and you hear it as she bathes. Hear it as she hangs your socks on the clothesline.

“She’s the salt,” she sings faintly. “And I’m the sea.”

Hear it as she builds her arrows, hunched over the table, tired fingers fiddling. Hear it grumbled through a mouthful of mint as she brushes her teeth.

“She’s a dog, and I’m her fleas.”  

One day in Summer you walk together, following that little stream all the way to the lake. You hear it then too. Softly, under her breath, your hand held loosely in hers as the sun turns her shoulders pink.

“If she’s creamer, then I’m jooooe,” the voice you love purrs, her thin lips pursing and parting as she drags out the vowel. “Sun don’t set, wherever we go.”

And then one night, as the two of you sit admiring the sky and all of its pinks and blues and yellows and oranges, you abandon your chair for hers. Slink two steps across the patio and into her lap, welcoming the way her arms drape around your shoulders. She kisses the bone at the top of your spine, the sloping side of your neck, and watches the sky from over your shoulder.

And then she sings quietly, her voice a delicate and hoarse thing against the back of your head.

“She’s a pistol.” A breath in and a breath out. “I’m a bow.”

“Is that from your song?” you ask, voice a hushed whisper. Scared to break the softness of the moment; the sunset trance that rests in a warm shroud over the patio.  

“Hmm?” she murmurs. You feel her lips trail the shell of your ear, the edge of your jaw. You shiver and go lax in her lap.

“Will you sing me your song?” you say louder, eyes focused on the waning horizon.

“My song?” Ellie laughs. One of her hands slips from your shoulder to play with the hairs at the nape of your neck. Twisting a strand around her finger and tugging gently. “It’s your song, babe.”

“Well, I’d like to hear it,” you murmur, and you can hear the smile in your own voice. “Properly, I mean.” Feel the heat that rises in your neck at the mere thought of it. Your song.  

“What about…” she says, fingers thrumming a beat against your stomach now. “What if I sing it for you in the morning? I think it’ll be warm. Sunny. We can see if those strawberries you planted are ready to eat.”

You consider it for a moment—her lips stained pink; eyes bright as she croons your song in the morning sunshine.  

“With the guitar too?”

A pause.

“With the guitar,” she agrees.

You nod once and turn to kiss her. Smile into her mouth.

“Okay,” you whisper. “Strawberries and my song in the morning.”

thank you for reading! x

#my writing #fic: sun don't set #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fluff

[thecapricunt1616]

The Bear & His Honey - Chapter 18

♡ Chapter Inspo: The Tortured Poets Department ; TS - 'I scratch your head, you fall asleep like a tattooed golden retriever. But you awaken with dread, pounding nails in your head, but i've read this one where you come undone - I chose this cyclone with you, and who's gonna hold you like me?'

♡ Summary: Winnie meets Donna for the first time, Carmy ends up needing an emergency therapy session.

♡ W/C: 8,071

♡ Posted Date: 04/22/24

♡ A/N: Eep here we are! 18 chapters and the plot is finally starting to thicken up! I'm enjoying where this story is going very much. I hope you all are too! When I heard the golden retriever line I was like - wait....Carmy and Winnie hahahah!!! I'm loving this new album V much - tried not to add too much Taylor-talk in here but it's CANON that Winnies a fan so it would be OOC for her to not be excited heheheh ♡ Warnings for BTC: Swearing, Physical Violence, Alcoholism, Mentions of Police, Family domestic abuse, attempt to enable said behaviors, Sad Carmy

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡

➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡

𝒲𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝒫.𝒪.𝒱. 🍯

Her shrill voice bounced off the walls, and quite frankly made my head hurt. I took a deep breath, clearing my throat and preparing for what was to come. I’d been apart of many screaming matches in my life since Id realized I could fight my mother back - so at minimum 15 years worth of defending myself against a raging narcissist.

“You don’t have to talk to her, my purse is just in there- I need it it has our house keys” I said so just we could hear. 

“Where is he! CARMEN ANTHONY. YOU WILL COME SPEAK TO ME I AM YOUR MOTHER!” she shouted. It was clear she was drunk by the way she was speaking and annunciating her words. 

“Baby go- go outside, I’m gonna deal with her” he said softly, his hands were shaking. 

“I’m not leaving you alone, bear. I promise, I’m not gonna add fuel” I said and took his hand, holding it in mine and squeezing gently. “I love you - and that means we do things together even when they’re hard” I whispered and he nodded, swallowing thickly. 

“Donna! Donna sweetheart we should step outside huh? Let’s go, let’s go outside, we'll have a cigarette. The babies are here, you don’t want them to hear this? No?” Jimmy told her, ushering her down the hall towards where we were in the dining room that contained the front door. 

When she saw him it was like everything stopped, I felt like I was trapped in a lions den, or a fucking bear cave more like it. “Who is this?” She said, just above a whisper and she looks at me, then our enclasped hands, then Carmen again. “Who the fuck is this, Carmen?” She questioned 

“Mom. Mom. Listen-“ I interrupt him because I’d never heard his voice sound so small and scared 

“Hi! I’m Winnie?” I said casually. “And- I assume you’re Donna? Right?” I gently rubbed the back of his hand with the pad of my thumb, it felt like I was trying to tame a mountain lion with a smile. 

“And what kind of fucking name is Winnie. What the hell is this- a goddamn cartoon? And why are you in my daughters house?” She asked and I maintained my cool, seeing as the whole family pretty much had silently crowded in the hall to watch this go down. 

“Oh-“ I cleared my throat, trying to maintain my cool and I held our hands up that were laced together “I’m well acquainted with your son.” I drop them back to our sides “he’s lovely. May I just say you did a wonderful job raising him.” I said and he squeezed my hand tightly 

“And I’m here to talk to said son alone. So you can take your cute little carrot top self back wherever you came from and fuck right off missy “ she snapped and I raised my brows, but before I could open my mouth Jimmy stepped in 

“Heyyy! Hey hey! Donna- Donna the girl hasn’t done anything wrong come on-“

“Oh shut up jimmy.” She seethed 

“MOM!” Carmen snapped, “I’m not fuckin’ doing this” he rose his voice so she could tell he was serious “I’m not. That was it- we’re done we’re leaving good fuckin job- I’m fucking leaving. Syd can you bring Winnie’s fuckin purse please?” He called to her and I saw her shoving through everyone gathered in the hallway to get back into the living room.

“Oh so you’re gonna choose this stupid girl over your own mother? What are you too good for your mother now? Is she- is she some hot shot chef? Oh- no let me guess- she’s a nurse since you messed things up with the Doctor, Claire?” She said and my mouth dropped 

“Actually-“ I scoff “I work at a library- your son is the ‘hot shot’ chef. The only one in your family might I add? Donna, you are speaking to everyone horribly right now. Why do you think he wouldn’t want to talk to you when you’re acting like-“ I see her jerk her arm and I am suddenly soaking wet, and my eyes are stinging worse than I’d ever felt in my life. I shrieked, wiping my face furiously and coughing, my lungs burning as the alcoholic drink that had been thrown in my face choked me from when I’d gasped in surprise and inhaled a gulp of it. 

“Oh- Donna!” Jimmy said “no- no now you gotta go dear, what’s wrong with you?” 

“Someone had to shut her up to stop that annoying little speech she was putting me to sleep” she laughed drunkenly 

“Mom what- WHAT THE FUCK?! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID?! ARE YOU? WHAT IS YOUR FUCKING OBSESSION RUINING EVERYTHING?! THIS IS WHY - THIS- THIS IS WHY I DIDN'T WANT TO SEE YOU- I CAN'T STAND YOU! I CANT FUCKING STAND YOU MOM” Carmy roars. 

“Oh my god you crazy bitch” Sadie said angrily. I couldn’t even see what was going on, everything was sticky and wet and it was driving me insane. I was still stuck in a coughing fit as I rubbed my eyes but the stinging was getting worse. The amount of overwhelmed, embarrassment, fear, anger I felt threw me headfirst into a panic attack. 

“What did she throw? Oh my god my contacts Sadie - I- I need to take out my contacts” I said gasping and coughing as I felt a hand on my arm guiding me to the kitchen 

“I know, I know, shhhh” she coaxed, bringing me over to the sink. “I’m gonna get them out but you have to do me a favor and stay still” she ordered, but I could barely fucking understand her with the pain. 

I began sobbing uncontrollably and she turned the sink on “I’m so sorry” I said and we heard crashing coming from the front room 

“What? What did she do?! MOM!!!” I heard Natalie shout “MOM THESE ARE BRAND FUCKING NEW CARPETS!! GET HER OUT!!!” She shrieked.

“YOUR FUCKING CARPETS? SHE JUST BLINDED MY FUCKING GIRLFRIEND AND YOU GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THE CARPETS, NAT?! THIS IS ON YOU, YOU’RE THE FUCKING REASON SHES HERE.” Carmy was in a rage. I’d never heard him so angry before.

“Everything e-everything I’m sticking-  i’m sticking oh my god Sadie. Everything stings, Sadie. Help me” I cried, “what did I even say why did she do that?” I sobbed, each time I tried to open my eyes I was faced with a searing pain. All of the screaming, the fear of his mother finding me and doing further damage for god knows why, the worry for Carmy and what was happening to him - it was all too much.

“CALL THE FUCKIN’ COPS THIS SHIT IS GETTIN’ TOO FUCKIN OUT OF HAND.” Richie shouted 

“I am alreadyyy on it- yup okay- let me just- I can’t hear them! I’m gonna go out there“ I heard Syd say awkwardly 

“Open” Sadie said and pried my left eye open, quickly scooping out the contact before doing the same with the right causing me to wince. She had to essentially trap me against the counter and wall so I wouldn't out of instinct slap and kick her for trying to dig in my fucking eyes with her fingers.

“Ok rinse” she said once she managed to get both of the contacts out. I dove for the sink, scrubbing my face over with water, rinsing out my eyes quickly and doing my best to hold them open under the running water despite the burning and uncomfortable stinging.

“G-get Carmen please, please” I said through shaky sobs. I hadn’t even been able to listen to what was going on since Sadie had scooped out my contacts, it was as if she and I were the only people in the house due to all the adrenaline from the pain coursing through my body allowing me to focus on the task at hand the fucking blinding pain.

“Yup ok. Okay I’ll find him” she said and I heard a sharp slap come from the other room

“MOM - MOM!! DID YOU REALLY JUST HIT HIM LIKE THAT! Oh, Carmy- Are you ok? Go- go out of here- go” Natalie shrieks at donna and there’s a loud smashing of glass 

“MY PLATES!!! MY PLATES!!!” Natalie shouts and starts to cry, “Jimmy! Jimmy those are my special china we got at our wedding!” She sobs “Mom! Why are you doing this?!” she pleaded

“That bitch is FUCKED up! What in the fuckin ghetto ass shit! Isn’t this the north side?!” Sadie said, causing Richie to laugh 

“Welcome to the fuckin Berzatto house my friend” he told her loudly over the chaos

“Natalie! Natalie - Honey- Uncle Jimmy will replace your plates, Come on honey we need to get her out I need your help grab her other arm!” I heard Jimmy tell her 

“Oh my god baby” I heard from behind me and Carmy rushed over, touching my back and I flinch.

“Don’t- don’t touch me I’m gonna have a panic response I can’t see- I don’t wanna hurt you” I said quickly, trying to even my breathing and stop crying so hard. “Please get my bag” I told him, continuing to rinse my eyes until the pain had subsided enough to open them. 

“Yeah- uh…yeah” he said and I heard him go into the living room. I felt around the counter until I found the paper towel, patting my face down with it to dry.  

When he came in, I took my glasses out of my purse, putting them on my face to see his cheek was unnaturally bright red- it looked so painful. There was a big raised mark with fanned out stripes from a handprint - she slapped him so hard it would bruise. 

Suddenly, my panic for myself melted away and I went in to protector mode, any worry or fear melted and reformed into concern for the sweet, damaged man before me. “Oh..Bear” I whispered, rushing to the freezer and getting a bag of frozen vegetables. “My poor love” 

I went over, gently pressing it to his cheek and he hissed in pain “yeah…” he said softly. “ it looks bad?” He asked

“I think she should go to jail. Either that or she agrees to go to rehab,” I said softly, gently thumbing out the wrinkle in his brow with my thumb. 

“She’s not gonna go to rehab” he muttered, looking up at the ceiling and swallowing hard. I could tell he was biting back tears, as was I, because this environment wasn’t safe to cry. 

“Then she goes to jail. Because this is gonna give you a black eye - and don’t you know how much I love your pretty face?” I joked, trying to lighten the mood a bit and I kissed his good cheek. 

He cracked the slightest smile, “yeah she really got me. She’s never uh…well not since I was a kid but I don’t think she’s ever hit me with all her strength like that. I was scared for a second she broke my fuckin jaw” he said and I gently rub his shoulder 

“Baby really” I said softly. “Half of your face is gonna be bruised. She needs help” I said quietly. 

“But….she’d never forgive me” he said brokenly, averting my gaze. 

“Forgive you?! Oh bear. No, no my love. Carm, you should be thinking if you can ever forgive her. Not the other way around.” I gently rub his chest “lets go sit on the couch ok? We don’t want this rash to set and it’ll be so much worse. Cold compress should help the aching and the red and the swelling” I explained. He nodded a bit and took over holding the bag, going with me to the living room. 

“I want you on my lap” he said softly and I nodded, sitting down and wrapping my arm across his shoulders, holding the bag with my other hand against his cheek. 

“They’re fine- yeah- Winnie- how are your eyes?” Syd asked as she came in the living room talking on the phone 

“Okay Syd, thanks. It’s Carmy I’m worried about- is your ear ok bear?” I asked him 

“Still ringing” he mumbled, resting his other cheek on my chest and shutting his eyes. 

“He says his ear is ringing. I’m gonna have him checked out tomorrow” I told her and she nods

“Do you…wanna press charges?” She asked and I shrug 

“Tell them well know when they get here based on her behavior and if she’s being remorseful,” I said and she nodded, heading back to the front room. 

“Oh my god- oh god. Carmy - Carmy I’m so sorry” Natalie said, rushing in and sitting next to us, “Winnie- Winnie I’m so sorry please forgive me I promise. I told her she has to go to rehab I told her she has to go or she can’t come here anymore-“ I cut her off 

“Natalie…” I said softly. “If she doesn’t agree to be checked into an emergency rehab center- tonight? She is going to jail. Tonight. I will make sure of it. So if you don’t want her to go to jail, I would go talk her into rehab. There is nothing you have to be sorry to us for, lovey. If anything- apologize to Pete? Apologize to your daughters. But not us. Because Carmen has been saying for at least 2 months he no longer wants to interact with her, and the only time he has to is when you push him to do so. I love you, it’s why I’m telling you this. And I appreciate the roll you have in Carmys life and all you do for him- but you are enabling her. And it’s hurting the family. No matter what happens after tonight- this is the last time either of us will see her unless we’re shown definite proof she is sober.” I explained.

 Carmen just sat silently, his other cheek flush against my chest with his eyes closed, likely pretending to not be here. He didn’t have the mental strength to stick up to her like this right now, nor did he have the emotional capacity to do it gently. So I was stepping up to take the load for him. 

  “Okay…” she nodded “okay.” She repeated and went back out to the front yard where Jimmy had wrangled Donna off to wait for the cops.  “I love you” he muttered into my shirt, and he sounded utterly defeated.

Donna had chosen rehab- reluctantly. It wasn’t without a huge fight between her, Carmy, and Natalie, with many tears from each side being shed. 

When we finally got home, we wordlessly stripped out of our clothes, I started the shower for us and he got our towels for us and set out our night time lavender lotion we shared on top of the counter. I put the towels in the warmer Carmy had bought for us, since he said it ‘was too much an effort for me to put them in the dryer while we shower, and the floor out there was so cold, and he dripped all over while going to get them’ so the $200 purchase was well worth it to him.  

We had a silent shower, but it was not any less intimate then any of our other shared showers. We still washed each other, we still gently brushed eachothers wet strands of hair off of the others forehead. I had to swallow a lump in my throat each time my gaze met the raised bumps on his swollen red cheek. 

I wasn’t sure how I was going to get through the next few weeks until he healed. I’d much rather her had slapped me. I could hardly imagine what he was going through inside his head right now. I had to actually remove myself and go throw up when I heard him crying, begging her to listen to Sugar and just go with her to rehab- or he would have to tell the cops to take her. 

Apparently, she went through the typical stages of grief an addict goes through when realizing they’ve been backed into a corner and are no longer able to make the choice to keep using for themself. She had started by telling them the classic

‘I know- I know I’ve done some messed up things- I know I’ve hurt you kids! But I’m your mother- you really are gonna send your mother to jail? Hmm? Carmy? My littlest bear. You’d send your mama away? I don’t believe that, Carmen. Oh Carmen Anthony. My sweetest boy. Don’t you  let your sister control the situation- you don’t want this sweetheart you don’t want to do this to your mother’ 

And when Carmen simply told her ‘no- I’m with Sug, mom you need rehab- this can’t keep goin’ ’ she flew off the handle once more, screaming at him, Sugar and the police - telling them that they were crazy- that all of them were lying about her, and that she didn’t even have a problem at all. That her ingrate horrible leech children- the ones that she had left at least, had planned for her to be taken away and locked up because they hate her- for why? She couldn’t give an answer to that in her drunken state. 

For the last part of her Oscar worthy performance - She wailed, she screamed, she cursed Carmen and told him he was a mistake- that together he and Natalie had ruined her life. That she ‘knew she should have stopped at Michael.’ That they drove their father away together, drove her to drink, and then drove their brother to do what he did. That they took everything from her. That her very pregnancy’s and births with them were pure hell- as if she was birthing demons and that she’d been miserable since the day Natalie had been born, and that it hadn’t stopped. And not without telling Carmen he made things all the more worse. 

In her vicious words, as told to me by Syd while Carmen comforted Natalie in the laundry room as she sobbed so hard she could barely breathe - the last thing Donna said after finding out Carmy would be the one paying for her treatment - while she being put in Pete’s car so he could drop her off was; 

“Your father couldn’t handle your social deficits anymore- so he left us. that’s what really happened you drove your father away from your brother and sister. You’re the reason the family is the way it is.” 

After Syd told me, I sobbed so hard I threw up again. 

The look on Carmen’s face when he came to collect me in the living room to leave after tending to Natalie and getting her to bed was nothing short of haunted. 

The drive back, likely goes without saying- was silent. 

Carmy cut off the water after he finished delicately rinsing my hair, opening the curtain and grabbing my towel first, wrapping it around my body. 

“Thanks.” I muttered, squeezing the water from my hair before drying my body off and stepping out. 

He hummed in response. The rest of the evening was that- silent. It was almost a shell shock kind of silent. I felt insane guilt, so much so that silent hot tears rolled down my cheeks as we laid in the dark, trying our best to get some sleep. 

“I- I know we said goodnight already” I sniffle, my voice hoarse and raw from crying. “I’ll shut up after this- I just had to tell you I’m sorry. I’m so so fucking sorry Bear. I’ll listen to you from here on. I’m sorry- It- it was so stupid it was my fault- you know your family better than anyone I was so dumb to push you and to ask to stay. I think back on it and I realize why you got upset when I asked on the porch- but hindsight is always 20/20. I got you hurt. I hurt you and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you. You know I never would intentionally hurt you…right? And it feels like- like I did this to you” I said, gently rubbing his arm. 

He sat up, flicking on the lamp on his side. “It’s my mom.” He said, wiping my tears. “Please. Baby. Please. I- I can’t be away from you tonight- but if I start gettin’ worked up again- I’m not gonna be able t’sleep here. Please. Princess,  Honey - I love you. I fucking love you. Is that what you need? I need you to be okay right now baby- at least not cryin’. I’m hangin’ on-“ he took a shaking breath “I’m hangin by a thread. I already texted Jazz” he whispered, rubbing his face over to rid any building tears. 

I swallowed thickly “I love you, Ok. Ok I’m done, I just had to tell you how sorry I am…” I said, quickly shoving all my emotions into a too small box and locking the bulging lid. He needs me right now. 

“Here, you’ll be little tonight. Turn off the light” I said, laying flat and opening my arms for him. 

He shut off the light, nuzzling his face into my neck, pulling me close as he possibly could. With a featherlight touch, I brush his hair off his forehead so it doesn’t tickle my mouth, gently dragging my nails across his scalp. “Thank you” he muttered.

He shivered a bit, his breath hitching slightly before he melted into me, sighing deeply. “I love you, so much, Carmen. Wholeheartedly. As sure as I am the sun will come up tomorrow, that’s how sure I am I love you. With every cell of my being. And I want you to know that it’s okay to be hurting. It’s okay to show you’re hurting, bear. You’re safe” I said quietly, before kissing his forehead tenderly. 

He remained silent, fingers gently moving along the skin of my back. I continued gently scratching his scalp, rubbing his back in long soothing strokes, the only sound in the room being our breathing and my noise machine. It remained that way for about 20 minutes, before he started softly shaking with silent sobs, holding me tighter and sniffling every so often. 

It went on like this for quite a while. My neck was soaking wet, so was my pillow he was nuzzled on- I didn’t care. I could flip it over. The itch of tear droplets gliding down my skin was only temporary. What he needed right now, was to be held. And to be loved. So that is what I’d give him, without any stipulation, or question, or expecting him to offer any answers. 

“You didn’t deserve it. Any of it. Remember that, ok? I know it hurts. You deserved a good mother, Carm. We both did.” I said softly, kissing the side of his head. 

He nodded gently, tightening his grip on me. “My fucking face hurts again. Like a bitch” he whimpered sadly. 

I swallowed the lump in my throat that formed at the sound of his wet tear filled voice “Give me a second Bear, I’ll be right back yeah? You’re getting too hot, It’s worse cause you're getting all warm and its makin’ the blood rush to your face and it’s throbbing. Cold will help it feel better, let me help you sweets” He wordlessly let me up and I quickly padded out to the freezer. 

Persephone meows, twirling around my legs for attention. “Hey you” I sniffled, tears brimming my eyes without an ability to stop them. I crouched down to pet her and blinked the blurry haze away, the offending tears rolling down my cheeks and dripping in 2 thick droplets onto the floor. 

“Carmy is sad right now, ok? Can you come give us your sweet Sephy snuggles and make him feel better? I know you can make him giggle silly girl” I wiped my face with his white shirt, shaking my head and trying to get ahold of myself.  

“Mama can do this, kittens. I can do it” I told myself, standing up again and momentarily resting the ice pack on each of my puffy eyes before blowing my nose with a tissue and heading back. 

“Hi sweet boy” I said softly, carefully getting back in bed and laying with him. 

“Hey” he sniffled.

I opened my arm for him “Here, we can both be cold” I joked. Resting the ice pack where he usually laid on my chest and patting it. “This will make it feel so much better, Bear” I assured him. 

“Thank you” he said, gently resting his cheek and closing his eyes. He was hiccuping and doing one of those post-sob sniffles every so often, as I resumed petting his hair. 

“Everything happens for a reason, Bear. And I’m really grateful I’m able to tell you I love you, tonight. I love you, and I’m here- I’ll always be here” I said softly and kissed his forehead with a gentle peck.  “You too…” He whispered, and that was the last thing either of us said that night.

The next morning naturally due to the stress I woke up extra early. Well- shamefully half because of the stress. Half because Sadie was coming over for coffee and we were gonna do our usual Taylor album release antics.

I grabbed my phone carefully, seeing that Sadie had sent me twenty seven texts since midnight. The last one being 

THAT CRAZY BITCH!! SHES RELEASING A PT 2. 31 FUCKIN SONGS WIN!!

I gasp quietly, ever so gently untucking Carm’s arm around me and getting up carefully. I picked up Seph who was comfy laying on his hip, squeaking in protest. 

I shush her, kissing her nose and carrying her to the kitchen. “Queen put a new album out fluffabutt!!” I whispered, taking out 2 coffee mugs. 

I grabbed my phone, FaceTiming Sadie “oh! Perfect! I’m at Starbucks what are you feeling?” She asked and I opened the cabinet, putting away the 2 glass mugs. 

“Can I have a large like- triple shot added americano? With extra oatmilk - vanilla and cold foam, iced?” I said and she laughed 

“Jesus Christ ok I’ll be ready to do CPR I guess” she joked. 

“Yup, Carm and I had a late night, shall I spare you the details?” I joked and she snorted, pulling up to the drive through. 

“Please- I don’t have to hear it twice.” She paused to put in our order “what does he like?” She asked

“Oh- black with sugar. He’s a weirdo. Thank you- I’ll cashapp you” I told her and she relayed it to the person working the line 

“Don’t worry about it- I’ll be there soon Kay?” She asked and I smiled a bit and nod 

“Sounds good. Love ya drive safe!” I told her 

“Love you!” She replied as I hung up. 

I heard stirring in the bathroom and the toilet flushed, so I headed back over to the bedroom just as Carm lays back down on his side of the bed.

“G’morning lovey” I said softly

“Hey- whats’up why’ya outta bed?” He yawned. My heart ached slightly at the sight of his puffy eyes and red nose from crying so long last night, but mostly the reddening on his cheek.

“Uh- it’s Taylor day- Sadie was coming over but we’re gonna get outta here so you don’t have to listen to us, don’worry” I sit down on my side of the bed. 

“Why?” He asked, wrapping his arms around my waist and tugging me to him. 

“We don’t wanna bug you…” I shrugged a bit. My past boyfriends would sometimes get annoyed about my passion for music- especially Taylor, and Sadie was just as loud and enthusiastic as I was- and especially due to the previous nights events. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’d be feeling snappier then usua & didn’t want to deal with our squealing and excited antics. 

“Why’d you bein’ happy bug me, honey?” He said softly, resting his head on my lap and looking up at me. 

I shrugged, gently playing with his hair. “I dunno… I guess if it’s ok we’ll stay, we’ll make sure t’be quiet cause you need your sleep baby your eyes are exhausted” I said softly, gently running my thumb over the bags under his eyes with my other hand. He sighed contently nuzzling his face in my stomach. 

“Sounds good t’me…Can I ask you somethin’ and you won’t laugh?” He asked, eyes still closed. 

“I’d never laugh at you, baby. Well- except that one time you thought rupaul were 2 different people.” I teased with a giggle and he snorts a laugh 

“Stop it I’m serious. Did that all….really happen? Last night?” He asked and I gently bit my lip. 

“I love you, and your mom is getting help. If that’s what you mean” I said, trying to lead with the good and put the bad as gently as I possibly could. 

He sighed softly “mmhmm.” he muttered, remaining quiet for a little bit. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if he didn’t want to speak any more about it. Considering last night was the first time i’d met his mother- he was likely feeling embarrassed knowing him (which he shouldn’t be) but nonetheless- nothing I could say would remove that shame from him. The shame of being the child of an unhealed alcoholic was a wound that no one or nothing could heal unless she got the help she needed.

“Wait don’t we gotta go get the album or whatever baby? From Target yea?” He peeked up at me. My heart swelled at the fact he remembered that I told him about the little process Sadie and I had when Taylor would release an album. We didn’t go as far as to having a huge party and staying up until midnight how we used to, but we’d both take the day off work & get starbucks before going to target and buying the Vinyl & CD & listening it in her car together while we do a mini road trip and get lunch.

When I’d told him about it- he said it was ‘really sweet’ and that it seemed like a great time, I told him it was and jokingly invited him expecting him to pass- but surprisingly he agreed, & told me he likes hanging out with Sadie and I because we were ‘funny’ which just made me fall in love with him all the more that he enjoys my best friends company how I do.

I shook my head a bit “No carmy. We can just relax- we had a hard night. It can just wait you’re more important” I said gently and he sat up a bit, furrowing his brows slightly.

“No- no, I have therapy at 2 we got time you’ve been wantin’ this baby. I wanna see too what it’s about. All the letters and stuff? Mm? It’ll be fun right?” He rubbed my arm gently. I had been telling him all about the letters Taylor had been posting on her social media in preparation for the album. I  never expected him to be actually listening since I was just rambling on and I know he doesn’t listen to music so I thought he was just letting me go on because he cares about me.

“You really…you really care?” I asked, astonished he would even humor me by tolerating my interests- let alone actually asking questions about them and wanting to learn and participate in them the same way I’d ask him about cooking. 

“What? Yes. Yes, honey, I love listenin’ t’you talk about this stuff. Y’fuckin light up when you do. How could I not like it if it makes you happy?” He asked and I felt tears welling up behind my eyes. 

I hugged him tightly, nuzzling my face in his neck and he wrapped me in a bear hug, laying back on the mattress as I curl myself around him. “Y’think I don’t realize when y’tell me things you’re lookin’ forward to babe?” He asked gently and rubs my back soothingly. 

“I love you. So much” I whispered, blinking away hot stinging tears. “Nd you give such good hugs” I giggled, smiling when I feel him chuckle against me. 

“So you’ve told me” he kissed my temple “Now tell me princess, how do we do this? You said it’s a process hm?” He asked and I smiled big, sitting back and looking at him with my arms wrapped around his neck loosely. 

I knew he wasn’t a particular fan of hers, Carmy wasn’t really a fan of anything. He barely listened to music on his own, but because I listened to music near constantly - he’d gotten well adjusted to something always playing, and it was usually her. He would make it a point to say “ I do really like this one honey what’s it about?” When he’d heard ones he liked while cooking dinner or breakfast for us and of course I’d happily oblige. 

“Uh..” my cheeks heat as he kissed down my jaw and neck “so - we usually listen to the first single separately…” my breath hitches as he stops at my collarbones, tugging the collar of his shirt down over my shoulder easily and biting down gently on the fleshy part. He hummed as if to say ‘go on’ 

“That- would um..be the first track so. Yeah and then we listen to the rest together but like slow- we relisten to the songs over and over, it’s weird” I said, losing my train of thought as he kissed the top of my breast, sucking lightly before pulling away and looking up at me.

“Put it on then mm?” he rested his chin in the hill of my breasts looking up at me with those big blue puppy eyes of his. 

“I’m gonna tell you a lot today but I love you and you’re the best” I kissed his forehead gently and grabbed my phone from the nightstand. 

He smiled a bit, blush creeping across his cheeks. “So since im the best…does that mean we can fool around before Sadie gets here?” he sucked on my neck gently and I scratch his hair gently as I one handedly checked her location. 

“She’s 7 minutes away don’t think so especially since she has a key” I connect my phone to my bluetooth speaker. 

“Mmm” he huffs brattily,  leaning into my touch and closing his eyes.

“Ok, it’s been less then 24 hours, you little pervert- this one’s called Fortnight, A Fortnight if you don’t know is a period of 2 weeks. If you can remember the name of one song from this album before we go to bed I’ll do whatever you want any position at all” I smirked and he looked up at me quickly, like a puppy being asked if they’d like to go on a walk. 

“The mating press one?” he asked and I roll my eyes playfully with a smirk.

“Yes you horny fucker. Now shhh” I kissed his lips gently as I hit play on the song so he couldn’t ask any more questions.

He hummed happily and cupped my cheek with his calloused hand, rubbing his thumb over my cheek sweetly. When he pulled away he said, “The beat is cool” which made me smile big and pull him into another sweet kiss, gently rubbing over the back of his neck.

I gently rested my head on his shoulder as I listened and he snorted a laugh at the line ‘Your wife waters flowers, I want to kill her.’ “She’s so honest about her feelings, it’s refreshing” he mutters and I giggle a bit.

“Well yeah- if I lost you and then you went off and dated someone else and got married and we ended up being neighbors? If you didn’t move i’d fantasize about killing that bitch every day” I laced our fingers together.

He chuckled and shook his head. “Marriage would be completely off the table if you left me, so it’d never happen” He said and I blushed pink, squeezing his hand gently. 

“I’d never leave you, Bear. Ever, you know that. Here let me see hows your cheek baby?” I gently turn his face and bit my lip at the fanned out pink and deep red marks as well as a blotch in the middle of his cheek. 

“Yeah I look fuckin…horrible” he cleared his throat, looking away from my gaze. I shook my head quickly

“Baby-” I swallowed thickly, trying to hold back my tears and maintain an even normal voice. He hated when I cried, it always made him so upset, so the last thing I needed was to make him hurt more then he already was right now. “It looks fine.” I lied “I meant are you hurting? Can I get you some tylenol or something? Want me to ice it for you?” I asked and barely even brushed my finger over it and he winced.

“Ah- don’t” he hissed and I frowned. 

“I’m gonna go get an ice pack love” I got up and went to the freezer. The way he wasn’t fighting on me, meant it really was hurting him- but Carmy is Carmy and wasn’t ever going to complain. But it still bothered me how he would just sit there in pain & not say anything about it so I could take care of him.

I came back to bed with the icepack and gently held it to his face and he sighed in relief. “Thank you angel” He said softly. I paused the song before it could start the next one without Sadie here and kissed his forehead. 

“Of course sweets, I’m gonna get dressed mm?” I said and he hummed in agreement, taking the icepack and holding it to himself, laying back on the bed and sighing softly to himself. 

“So do you have a special Taylor outfit too baby?” he asked as I opened my closet. I smiled a bit, looking through it.

“Kinda- I’m gonna wear my Folklore cardigan” I took it out and tossed it on the bed and he looks at it carefully, dragging his finger over the embroidered stars “Cause that’s what Sadie’s wearin’ so were gonna match” I said and speak of the devil, I heard the door open.

“In here! He’s already up, Oh my god!! ‘My husbands cheating I wanna kill him?!’ Bitch this albums gonna be insane” I called out to herand she came to the bedroom, baring a tray of coffees.

“Stop it’s been on repeat since last night for me, It’s so good!! Hey Carm” she greeted him and goes over, setting the tray on the nightstand and handing him the only hot coffee in the tray.

“Oh-Uh, thanks…” He said shyly. He still hadn’t been able to be out of his shell fully unless it was just us, but he was slowly getting there. His eyes slightly widen as I started stripping and putting on a fresh pair of panties and a bra while Sadie and I continued casually talking.

“Oh the first part about being sent away- literally us” I said causing us both to laugh as I hit play on the song again. 

“First thing I thought when I heard it, oh are we twinning?! Cuutee!!” She said excitedly with a smile.

“So…you just look at eachothers tits?” Carm asked bluntly and Sadie and I both laugh.

“No- weirdo- shes just changing i’m not staring at her. You don’t change in front of your dude friends?” she asked and he shook his head.

“You’ve never changed in front of other dudes?” she asked to which he shook his head again lightly as he held the icepack to his cheek.

“He didn’t play any sports bug” I told her as I jumped and wiggled into my jeans before buttoning them. 

“Ahhh- ok. That tracks, when did you graduate?” she asked him.

“High- High School? Er…” he asked, looking at me nervously before looking back at her. If she’d been a stranger I’d willingly save him from the discomfort of being asked about himself - but it’s healthy for him to branch out and talk to people since he refused to do it himself, and Sadie was more then safe for him to try that with.

“Yeah! I went to Gage Park and graduated in 2012 - same year as Win” she nodded 

“Oh- uh..no I um… I went to Foreman and graduated in 2011” he replied and took a sip of his coffee. “How’d you know?” he motioned to the cup and she shrugged with a smile

“If I said i’m a coffee psychic i’m not sure you’d believe me, your lovely pooh bear has your order memorized,” she said and I rolled my eyes, putting on my deodorant with a small smile.

 “It’d be more impressive if he remembered my order since his is literally just sugar” I said and Sadie grabbed my cup from the nightstand, covering the sticker.

“Boyfriend test! What’s her coffee order?” she teased him and I looked over at him raising my eyebrows playfully.

“Here’s your real test of love” I joked, slipping my cardigan on and grabbing my hairbrush, beginning to detangle my rats nest from not tying it up before I went to sleep. 

He rolled his eyes playfully. “Iced americano, with shots in it depending on how tired she is- and then add vanilla, and extra light with the oatmilk shit, and extra of the cold foam stuff on the top - and cinnamon” he said and Sadie raised her eyebrows in surprise, looking over at me.

“Trained ‘em well” she said and I laughed, pausing my hairbrushing to come give him a well deserved kiss.

“Do I love you yet?” he joked and I giggle, pinching his bicep playfully. 

“Remembered the cinnamon huh?” I kiss the tip of his nose and he pats my bum gently. 

“Yes- can we please turn on the next song now? We’ve heard it 50 times now babe” He asked and I laugh a bit. 

“More like less then 10, but ok lover because I don’t want you sick of us just yet” I hit skip to start playing the next song which was the title track as I sat at my vanity and finished brushing my hair. Sadie came up and put my coffee on the vanity for me, going over to my perfumes and smelling various ones as we listened. 

Came the part of the song where the lyrics were ‘I scratch your head, you fall asleep - like a tattooed golden retriever’ and Sadie and I stared at eachother for a moment before looking at Carmen, then back to eachother and cracking up. She had witnessed many times now when we’d have little dinner party’s with he and Syd when they insisted on cooking for us and showing us a new recipe, he’d work himself so hard that sitting on the couch after everything had been cleaned up when I was gently playing with his hair he’d fall asleep in my lap and miss them leaving. 

“Hey- What! What’s funny?” he asked, not even realizing the lyrics we were laughing at, not having been paying attention like we were and he puts his coffee down. “Tell me! Tell me what did I do?” He whined a bit with a slight pout, how he usually did when he realized he’d missed a joke and I laughed at his adorable childlike tiny tantrum.

“Nothin’ - Taylor had a little tattooed golden retriever too I guess” I shrugged and he put the icepack down, confused. 

“Hell’s that mean?” he asked and came over to me, watching as I put on my eyeliner. 

“It means you’re cute and have nice energy, baby” I said before resuming to carefully draw a sharp wing.

“Mm” he grumbled how he did when he didn’t understand me but was just deciding to let it go. “How long will this take? I wanted you t’try that sauce i’m makin’ when we get back” he kissed the top of my head lightly as I paused to shake the pen so more ink would go to the tip.

“Not long, Bear. We’ll be back with plenty of time to try your sauce, yeah? Go shower baby” I said, leaning into the mirror as I start my other eye. 

“Kay…y’look pretty” he said softly and rested his hand on the desk, leaning. I smiled a bit 

“Thank you, you’re hovering, lovey. Did you want a kiss?” I puckered my lips and his cheeks redden in response as he leans down and kisses my lips. 

“Thank you” he muttered 

“Baby you can ask me for loves when Sadies here, shes not gonna judge you” I assured him and she looks up from her phone.

“What?” she replied, clearly not having paid attention. 

“See” I assure him and rub his chest just above his belly gently. “Make sure you dont let your face hit the hot water ok lovey?” I ask and he nodded a bit. It was more than clear that last nights events were causing him to be much clingier and wanting of physical touch which was more then normal after something like that, especially for him. The last time he’d had a big blowout fight with his mom, he’d not even wanted me to go to the bathroom alone - his mind was absolutely a prison in times like this, and me being near made it easier to manage. 

“Mm i’ll be careful” he said and went to the bathroom, shutting the door since Sadie was here and preoccupying Sephy so she wouldn’t feel the need to go and scratch.

“So…How was like- after” Sadie asked when she heard the water start. I cleared my throat, nervously stretching my back and shaking my eyeliner pen some more. 

“Not much. He’s not a talker, made sure he knew I was here. He cried a little, it’s better then nothing. He’s seeing his therapist.” I told her and she nods a bit, looking at me in the mirror. 

“His sister was a mess too, like- her husband had to drop her kids off at his parents house so they wouldnt see the rest of it. She kinda bitched me out when I opened the laundry room by mistake, Syd said she didn’t mean it, though” she picked at her nails nervously.

“She didn’t, Sadie. Natalie really is one of the nicest people. His family is just…” I sighed. “She said it was like this before their brother, but- now its like…no love left. Like he was the main string that tied the family all together and now that he’s gone- it’s impossible to be together. My therapist says that a tragedy like that either breaks a family or brings them closer together- Chris broke mine too, so I don’t blame them. I wasn’t strong enough - er…my family wasn’t strong enough, either.” I explained and she shook her head.

“No way, Win. You’re so strong, and so, so smart. It wasn’t your job- it was your familys job.” She said and I sighed softly, finishing up my eyeliner. I wanted to believe her - but something in me couldn’t help but feel weak at the fact I had no family left that bothered to speak to me other then my Grandma, and I had Carmy and his family right in front of me in dire need of help and I’m not even the one hurting this time- and I still cant save him from them. 

I’m pulled from my thoughts by Carm’s phone ringing - “Hand it please” I requested since Sadie was laying on my side of the bed, she leaned over and grabbed the phone before reaching out to me and handing it over. 

Natalie's name flashed on the screen and I slid it, to answer putting the phone to my ear.  “Carmy? Mom had a seizure last night apparently- uh…they’re saying she has some…some- disease from drinking? Please- how fast can you get here? I really don’t wanna do this by myself…”

➵ 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⋘ 𝐖𝐈𝐏 ♡♡♡ ⋙

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[undead-supernova]

HIGH TOLERANCE

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Masterlist

warnings: gay disasters, Steve (derogatory), a bit of angst but that's a given for pining best friend!eddie so enter at your own risk, weed consumption (but what's new in a series about weed consumption)

pairings: modern!bestfriend!Eddie x fem!reader (both bisexual bitches)

plot: let's go sing some karaoke and feel like we're dying, shall we?

wc: 6k

p.s. I listened to "Watch" by Maisie Peters the entire time I wrote this and I just cannot for the life of me let The Good Witch go. Anyone else in a chokehold from that album? Anyways, here you go!

Part 2: "Live Resin"

“For you, my good sir!” you exclaimed, feigning a British accent as you got down on one knee and presented Eddie with a joint like it was a sword. And it was an immediate scrape to your knee, your black crop top and miniskirt riding up. You tried to save yourself by planting your maroon Converse on the ground, but it was met with instant failure. Eddie chuckled, grabbing your arm to try and stabilize you before he continued the bit. 

(Leave it to Eddie Munson to commit to a bit.)

“For me?” he asked, feigning a gasp as he threw his hand over his chest, his rings clinking together. “You shouldn’t have.”

You exaggerated a wink as you stood back up. 

“Sure, I did.”

“Wha’da we got, Weirdo?”

You repeated what the guy at Jailbait Hemp told you. It was a THC-A pre-roll that was covered in live resin (which technically has a higher concentration level than just the THC-A alone). It burned differently than other joints, a glaze lining the paper to burn like honey. 

Let it in slow and watch it go.

“She sure is a pretty one,” Eddie said, lightly running the pad of his pointer finger along the resin. It didn’t flake off or leave any residue on his finger. Incredible.

You smirked. “I know, right?”

“Kinda like you.”

You swallowed immediately, nearly choking as the spit went down wherever the wrong pipe was located.

Panic, panic, panic. 

“Oh, whatever,” you said, waving him away. You distracted yourself with wiping the gravel off of the scrape on your knee that showed promise of blood but stayed put. The most embarrassing thing you could think of was having to ask someone for a Band-aid because you were too busy doing a bit with a joint to remember that you weren’t wearing pants. Eddie would love that a little too much and you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction.

“You’re right,” Eddie said with a nod, causing you to look back up. “Doesn’t come close to you, m’lady.” Without another word or time for you to even remotely process, he held out his hand and made obnoxious grabbing gestures. “Alright. Gimme, gimme. Wanna light her up.”

With shaky fingers, you handed it over. Eddie took his black Bic lighter and ran the flame back and forth against the twisted end of the paper. It took him two or three tries to keep it lit, but he finally got it, moving it around in circles to let it burn as evenly as it could. The air instantly thickened with the smell. But to be fair, you smelled weed wherever you went in Atlanta. Even on the highway somehow.

You could hear the music from Go Ask Mary from two blocks away, the bass of Madonna’s “Vogue” booming through the walls. It was almost time for karaoke to start and, to be honest, you were excited. Eddie had picked up some extra shifts at the car dealership and your shitty retail jobs at the Lenox Square mall had been draining. Especially when you were surrounded by stores like Chanel and Tiffany & Co. It was always your dream to work at a Sephora where all the pretentious rich people complained about needing a new Balenciaga bag before arguing with you when their sheer Tom Ford lipstick was out of stock. 

This was the first time you’d seen Eddie in a week, despite him practically begging to come over at 2am to watch the first Lord of the Rings movie on a Monday. The extended edition to be exact, all three hours of Elijah Wood and Sean Astin being the most iconic couple of the fantasy realm. It was embarrassing to admit, but you nearly considered calling out just so you could.

Tonight, you couldn’t wait to let off some steam, especially with the person who made every day worth it. Eddie looked as he usually did with all his chains and rings and pretty face and attitude. It was disgustingly unfair that he could wear variations of the same outfit every time you saw him and somehow looked better and better every time.

“There you guys are,” Steve sighed as he and Robin walked over from the bar. 

Steve was still in his suit, just without his tie and blazer. A few buttons of his white button down were popped with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Robin wore an oversized cotton button down, white with navy stripes and a loose navy tie. She looked like she was going to the beach for the day, even going so far as to wear jean shorts and checkerboard Vans.

“We should’ve known you were smoking,” Robin said, nose wrinkling before she pulled out her flask from her back pocket and took a few sips. “Did you know that one joint is, like, the equivalent of five cigarettes? I heard it on a podcast the other day and, believe me, that sounds bad. Like, really bad.”

“What else is new?” you joked, taking the joint from Eddie and filling your lungs with a few hearty drags. “At least we’re not vaping. That’s, what, the equivalent of a hundred cigarettes?”

Robin shook her head. “Actually, I read that a thousand-puff vape is the equivalent of five to six packs.” She paused, moving her fingers through the air as she solved the problem in her head. “So…about one-twenty?”

Eddie hummed, nodding. “Aren’t you glad I stopped smoking cigs six months ago?”

“Well, yes.”

“So smoking weed should be the least of your worries, Buckley.”

“You have a point. But honestly—"  

“Rob!” Steve interrupted. “Rob, listen. I have exciting news.”

“What is it?” you asked.

“I’m getting the first round,” he said proudly. “I got a bonus at work.”

“Thanks, Steve,” you said, genuinely touched by the offer. “That’s awesome, though. You’re literally moving up in the world.”

“Bringing in the big bucks, this one,” Eddie teased with a big smile as he took the joint from you. “Always a generous giver.”

Steve glared at Robin. “She thinks I should quit.”

“No, I do not!” Robin argued. “I just think you’re in a weird environment with weird men—" 

The high was already making its way through you, causing you to not-so-subtly stare at Eddie again. His eyes were trained on yours as Steve and Robin rattled on, entering some bickering fest that you were positive he wasn’t listening to. And the way he was looking at you… Well, it didn’t seem that platonic, did it? 

His eyes were doing that thing again, that slow gaze down your body before reaching back up to your eyes. Your fingers inched just a little bit closer to his and you almost swore you could hear his rings again as they fluttered towards yours. 

Robin cleared her throat, causing you to look back at her. She was eyeing you specifically, not even bothering to look at Eddie. 

Could she see it? What did she know? Was there anything to know?

“Well, we’ll be inside,” she said, grabbing Steve’s arm. “Have fun with the extra cancer!”

Eddie chuckled. “Thanks, Buckley.”

You watched them walk away, right back in their little fight. It was nice to be around them again. Truly, it was. You didn’t have too many friends outside of Eddie, always working during the week and never truly finding time to go out unless Eddie dragged you along. You could engage in small talk with strangers at Go Ask Mary on the weekends, but it was different when you got home and found your phone void of anyone to tell those stories to. Zero messages, not even from your parents or your sister. No Instagram DMs of cute animals or Tumblr messages of photography and memes. Just a phone that looked more like a coffin full of wires than access to the whole world.

Except for Eddie.

As he turned back to you, he lifted the joint and let it hover just above your lips. 

“Want some more?” he asked.

You looked up at him, nearly startled by how close he was to you. God, what was it about him? Maybe it was the dark color of his eyes, still illuminated in the warm sunset, nearly glazed over with a golden sheen. Maybe it was the way his hair was doing that thing after a fresh wash where the ends were slightly curlier than the rest. Or maybe it was the way his tips of his sneakers were meeting yours and the smell of tobacco and car air freshener was wafting off of him.

“Come on, you can’t deny you want it.”

“Um,” you stumbled. “Yeah. Yeah, I want it.”

“Yeah?”

Nodding, you felt his fingers grazing your mouth as he placed it in between your lips. You took a long, slow drag while your eyes never left his. You wanted to look away. Really, you did. If anything, the sparks settling in your stomach were starting to pop and sizzle unlike ever before. 

You just couldn’t help yourself.

And if anything, he didn’t seem like he could either.

Tonight was going to be interesting.

The bar wasn’t very crowded, but that’s why you liked to go as a group during the week. Even if there weren’t many people looking to do karaoke on a Tuesday, it didn’t matter. There were four of you ready to tear up the fucking stage.

You went in rotation for solo performances, Robin singing “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac followed by you singing “Love Is a Stranger" by Eurythmics (despite it technically not being from the Eighties) followed by Eddie doing “The Stroke” by Billy Squire and finishing with Steve’s off-key rendition “Africa” by Toto.

When Steve returned from his noteworthy performance, the three of you congratulated him. He did a little bow before wiping the sweat off his forehead. 

Eddie patted the table and said, “Alright, I’ll go get the next round.” As he was about to leave, he looked at you. “Still want a vodka Redbull?”

“Of course,” you said with a smile. 

He gave you a quick wink. “Just checking, Weirdo.”

“Thanks.”

You turned back to Steve and Robin, watching Steve dab his face with a napkin. He was mostly definitely inching towards being drunk, always starting to turn red and sweaty whenever he was getting close. That, and he started to run his mouth.

“God, he’s dreamy,” Steve said, leaning his head in one hand. You followed his line of sight, all three of you watching Eddie walk to the bar. “It’s almost annoying how hot he is.”

Robin snorted. “Yeah, okay. Keep dreaming.”

Maybe it shouldn’t have stung the way it did. Anyone was allowed to find him hot. It didn’t mean anything. Just a bit of flattery, that’s all. But then it was like you couldn’t stop yourself and suddenly you were unable to keep yourself from asking the one thing you never ever should have.

“Do you have a crush on Eddie?”

You watched Steve laugh pitifully. “I mean, maybe?”

“Maybe? What does ‘maybe’ mean, Steve?” Robin asked.

“I mean, he’s hot, right? But I don’t know if he’d even go for me.” As he talked, he popped open another button of his shirt, showing off a bit of his wife beater and chest hair. “Like, okay, he’s just so pretty and he fixes cars and plays in a band? It’s cool as hell. But I don’t think we even have that much in common, so I don’t know. He likes metal, I like pop. He likes D&D and I like, uh, I don’t know? Poker? Anyways, I don’t even know what kind of guys he’s into. Do you know, Rob?”

Robin shrugged, meeting your eyes before saying, “I don’t know, Steve. Ever thought about asking him what his type is?”

And you shouldn’t have asked. Really, you shouldn’t. Because now you were here, sitting at a table while Steve moaned and groaned about his chances with Eddie, like it was some statistics problem. And then someone was doing an awful cover of “Time After Time” by Cyndi Lauper, the shrill sound mixing with Steve’s whining. And you? You were sulking. 

You looked over and watched Eddie wait for your drinks at the bar, wondering if Steve had any chance and whether you were more likely to get the guy in the end. Surely there was a silver lining in there somewhere. You enjoyed metal music and even convinced Eddie to listen to other genres. You enjoyed listening to Eddie talk about Dungeons and Dragons and showed him board games you liked, like Catan. Relationships weren’t built off of just similarities and differences. Steve was wrong.

Right?

As if Eddie heard your thoughts, he caught your stare, his lips pulling back into a large grin as he waved and moved his hips a little bit along to the grating karaoke. You couldn’t help but laugh at how awkward he looked, in turn doing the worst arm wave in history. He immediately started laughing.

Eddie was looking at you, wasn’t he? Steve wasn’t even bothering to look at the object of his desire. He merely talked about the guy, putting his head in his hands and panicking as if Eddie wasn’t in the same room. But you were looking at Eddie and now you were in a makeshift dance battle, embarrassing yourself by doing an awful robot while he did that shopping cart move.

Could Steve have this kind of relationship with Eddie?

And what were the odds of you winning?

What were the odds of you losing?

After a good bit of chatter, Steve and Robin headed towards the other end of the bar to set up a game of darts. Eddie went along, but you decided to stay behind. He found it odd, asking if you were sure and you’d nodded, telling him that you wanted a moment to yourself. 

But Eddie didn’t believe you. Not one bit. You’d started acting weird merely seconds after he came back with drinks. It was strange. One moment you were dancing with him across the room and the next your shoulders were slumped, falling out of any and all conversation. Even when he nudged you and tried to be playful, you seemed to pretend you didn’t notice. Instead, you focused on your straw and nodding along as if you were paying attention. 

He knew you hadn’t. He knew there was something wrong and, of course, he wanted to respect your privacy but there had to be something else there. Had Robin let anything slip? Did Steve act like an asshole? Were you upset with him? 

Robin and Steve were in the heat of a tie when Eddie finally decided to walk back over to you. He didn’t like seeing you so sad, so vulnerable. And with the addition of the high, he knew how scary that could feel. If something didn’t feel right, it could get extremely uncomfortable. And you couldn’t just be alone in that hole.

“Hey,” he said as he approached you. “Are you feeling okay?”

You put on one of the fakest smiles he’d ever seen before replying, “Yeah, I guess I’m just tired from work.”

Lie.

“Is the high getting you down?”

You shrugged. “A bit, yeah.”

“Um,” he said, gulping as he held out his palm. “Do you need to hold my hand?”

You looked down at his hand before looking back up. 

“No, I think I’ll be okay. Thank you, though.”

“Yeah, sure. Sure,” he replied, placing his hand on top of the other. 

He squeezed it to elicit something resembling comfort for the rejection he felt. It was like your hand was some kind of phantom feeling that made his chest ache with want. And that want was slowly but surely starting to burn.

“Well, uh.” He gulped. “I’m gonna get myself another beer. Want anything?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m okay.”

Eddie nodded before turning away.

“Hey, Eddie?”

He didn’t think he’d ever spun back around that quickly before.

“Yeah?”

You smiled weakly. “If you need me to drive your van back tonight, let me know. I don’t mind if you want to get a little drunk with Steve and Robin.”

And just like that, he died a little inside. Again.

“Will do, Weirdo.”

Steve was back on his bullshit.

“Oh my god, do you guys think I should try to sing with him? Get the sparks flying, you know?” He moved his head from side to side. “‘Do a little dance? Make a little love’?”

Robin smacked Steve’s arm. “You did not just do that.”

You let out a tiny sigh, looking away from his hopeful expression. Steve genuinely thought he’d cracked the code to Eddie’s heart. And you couldn’t blame him. Who wouldn’t want someone like Eddie? 

But really, you wanted to put your head on the table and bang it over and over.

Over. And. Over.

Eddie had gone to get a third beer and Steve had wasted no time before bringing this shit back up. You were seriously starting to dislike him for the first time in three years. Three. Years. He was obnoxious when he was drunk, sure, but it was never like this.

Or maybe you just hadn’t paid attention until tonight.

You shook your head, desperately trying to get the feelings out of your body. The blunt was starting to get the best of you, fogging your brain while your limbs felt like they were vibrating. This was killing your high. No, it was more than that. It was magnifying all the feelings you once swore to be dormant. 

You looked over to find Robin staring at you, her eyebrow quirked up. Noticeably, you might add. You and Robin weren’t that close—you were one of Eddie’s best friends to the rest of them. You had fun whenever the group would hang out, whether that be at Eddie’s shows or unwinding at Go Ask Mary, but you never truly hung out alone. 

Steve, Robin, and Eddie had moved to Atlanta three years ago, after they wanted out of their small town in Indiana. Steve’s dad had gotten him a job at a big boy law firm in the heart of Downtown. It wasn’t the best way to get into the business, but it was the best way to get all of them out. To start over somewhere bigger, somewhere with more opportunities. Steve convinced them to save up for the summer before driving eight hours to their shitty new apartment. He swung Robin a waitressing gig at a nice restaurant he had a business lunch at—charmed the owner and everything. Eddie had worked at a local gay bar in Decatur and played there sometimes on metal or punk themed nights.

And here Robin was now, staring at you like she was trying to figure out how you were feeling, as if you’d ever be phased by Steve’s confession. Confessions. And she was making eye contact, all bold and unashamed. Like she was some freakishly keen hawk, two steps away from letting out a ca-caw. And if Steve paid just a fraction, just a millimeter of attention, he’d notice. 

It was all quite unnerving.

“Don’t you think sparks would already be flying after years of knowing each other?” Robin asked, eyes flickering from Steve’s to yours and then back again. “I mean, I think you would know by now. If there was something between you.” She gestured over to you. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

What was her deal?

“Pfffft.” 

A bit of Steve’s spit flew out and hit your cheek. You would’ve laughed three hours ago. Now? Now, you were seriously considering bashing his head against the table.

(It was a big night for head bashing.)

“Last call for karaoke!” one of the bartenders announced.

“Wish me luck!” Steve said to you and Robin before raising his hand. “I’ll do it!” he exclaimed loudly, pointing to Eddie who had just finished closing out his tab. “I’ll do it with that handsome man over there!”

Eddie looked surprised but shrugged, a pleasant smile reaching his lips. “Yeah, sure, Harrington. Show me what you got.”

As they moved towards the stage, you swallowed the words resting on your tongue.

I wanted to sing with Eddie tonight.

“I hope he doesn’t embarrass himself.”

You couldn’t look at Robin. You just couldn’t.

“What song did he pick?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

“‘Under Pressure’.”

Oh, fuck. You’d sung that in the car with Eddie plenty of times, always with a silent acknowledgement that whatever conversation you were having would cease and the volume was to be turned all the way up. You went for Freddie Mercury's part while Eddie took the lower octaves in David Bowie’s verses. Eddie sounded amazing when he sang it, confident with his range and feeding emotion into the song. And you melted. You just melted.

And when the song started and Eddie’s eyes drifted away from Steve and landed on you, well, you couldn’t help but feel seen. He thought about those times, too, didn't he? It was something you both held special. Right?

But Steve took Eddie’s hand and started trying to dance with him. Eddie laughed, trying to follow his complicated rhythm. Steve was stumbling and nearly fell of the stage, but Eddie caught him, stabilizing him. Just like he’d done with you in the parking lot.

Things were going downhill for you. And they were going down fast.

Eddie cleared his throat dramatically before starting the first verse. “Pressure, pushing down on me, pressing down on you. No man ask for.”

You let out a sigh at the sound of Eddie’s voice, all gravely and husky and soft all the same. It felt even better tonight with whatever was in this joint. You could feel it inside, like it was somehow spreading through you. There was a part of you that was sure you’d never get over it for as long as you lived.

Steve pulled Eddie closer, grabbing at his waist and slowly moving it down.

Oh my fucking god. Eddie knows what he’s doing, right? you asked yourself. Can he tell? Does he like this?

Eddie cleared his throat before belting, “It’s the terror of knowing what this world is about. Watching some good friends screaming—”

“Let me out!” Steve shouted.

They stumbled through a laugh at the ridiculousness, and you began to feel like you were slowly dying. Again.

“I’m…going to go to the bathroom,” Robin announced before scurrying off.

And you tried to keep your eyes off of them. Really, you did. You made yourself look around the room, scanning the face of a drag queen who was currently walking around and engaging in animated conversations with the few other people here. Her eyes were coated in pink glitter and tall eyelashes; nude lips perfectly lined and wrapped around the straw of a cocktail. She was absolutely gorgeous, as most Atlanta queens were. Plus, how could you ever look away from a drag queen? They were angels, truly. Archangels.

But it was Eddie’s singing that brought your attention back, as effortless as Bowie himself. Like there was nothing to it. Like he was always on the track to begin with.

You found yourself thinking about the night you met Eddie, right here in Go Ask Mary. It was the five-month anniversary of their official move to Atlanta, the three of them wanting to go out and celebrate not completely fucking up. They’d gotten out and they were doing pretty okay for themselves by the look of it.

And you? Well, you were a native to the south. Grew up in Tennessee, moved here when you saw the opportunity for college somewhere that wasn’t Tennessee. Found your way through college and realizing you were bisexual and, well, found Go Ask Mary. At the time, you came here with friends, but there was a period time after losing some of those friends where you preferred coming by yourself. It was an accepting atmosphere, one where everyone seemed friendly. You could have a six-minute conversation with a queer stranger and never speak again. But it would be fond and unforgettable. It would be transcendent. 

You’d gone up and done a dramatic cover of “I Miss You” by Blink 182, mimicking the singer’s voice rather than being serious about it. A few people laughed—and Eddie was one of them. He’d even let out a few whoo!s and yeah!s. When you’d gotten off the stage, he approached you immediately and asked you if you could be best friends. You laughed at that, thinking then that neither of you were serious. 

But then you’d spent the whole night talking and watching Robin and Steve perform.

And then they tapped out and decided to head home.

However, Eddie wanted to stay. 

And you told him you could call him an Uber. 

And then you stayed until closing, just talking. Nonstop. Like you were seeing an old friend for the first time in decades.

(Is there a joke in there somewhere about three disaster bisexuals and one tragic lesbian walking into a bar?)

“Is that your man?”

You looked behind you, noticing the queen from earlier standing with her hand on her hip as she tapped her acrylic nails along to the beat.

“Which one?” you asked.

“The crazy haired one over there with the wallet chain.”

You could feel your chest start to ache. “No, no. We’re best friends, but we’re not dating.” She let out a hum. You looked at her again, feeling hot all of a sudden. “Um, why? Why do you ask?”

A smirk formed on her lips as she touched your shoulder, leaning down to speak softly into your ear. “Baby, that man’s only looking at you.”

“He is?”

“Mhm.”

“Are you sure?”

The queen looked at you again, her eyebrow raising. “Oh, so you’re jealous of the other one?” She laughed as you gave a defeated shrug. “You ain’t been lookin’ hard, have you?”

“I’m not sure—"

“Honey,” she started, tapping your jaw. You looked back at her. “I know that look. But you ain’t gotta look hard to see what he feels for you.”

“Really?”

She patted the top of your head and stood up straight. “Girl, look harder. Oh, and don’t forget to invite me to the wedding.”

And then she was waving you a goodbye and walking away.

You looked back to the stage to watch Eddie. You didn’t know how to believe her. Couldn’t. He was right there, leaning in and sharing a microphone with Steve, their faces practically touching. Lopsided grins coming from the two as Eddie hit a high note perfectly and Steve butchered the harmony. Eddie’s voice was dark and angelic. Steve’s eyes were red and perhaps they were sparkling in the purple and blue neon lights. They were having fun. 

They’d be a cute couple, a voice in your head said bitterly. And you can sit and watch and be okay with it. Swallow all your emotions like you always do. Let yourself fade into background noise as you watch someone take the spot you want the most. It’s normal at this point, isn’t it? You’re going to be that pathetic and weak, aren’t you?

You looked down at your drink, riddled with those incessant voices in your head telling you that you weren’t good enough. Because you weren’t as forward as Steve, or as brave as Eddie. You couldn’t just say the words or say anything at all. Eddie said everything he thought and made it clear how he felt. It was so simple for him. 

Besides…where would the friendship go if Eddie rejected you? Would it remain firm, the foundation solidified enough to keep you where you were before? Or would it start moving away, returning less and less frequently before the inevitable crash? 

And how could you ever fathom surviving the implosion?

Eddie began to belt the final chorus, leaving Steve in the dust while secretly trying to get your attention. Maybe he was trying to impress you with his strengthened vocals and (pathetically) wanted you to notice.

But you continued to look down at your drink, scowling and swirling your straw around. He wanted to know what the hell was going on, why you were acting so strange tonight. It’d started out so well when he picked you up, letting the music be the only thing moving you forward. Even in the parking lot, with the jokes and a longing look that felt like it lasted for hours. And now you were…well. Whatever you were. 

And the song ended, alongside the minimal applause and stage lights being turned off. 

Steve patted Eddie’s shoulder as they got off. Eddie nodded at him before turning towards your table. 

But Steve pulled at his forearm. 

“Munson, wait.”

Eddie looked back. “Yeah, dude. What’s up?”

Steve smiled and Eddie could tell that he was utterly drunk. It was one of Steve’s goofy smiles, always seeming cartoonish with the way his lips curved into a wave. Eddie always thought it was kinda weird how he did that. Even a little creepy.

“Listen, I’m just gonna come out and ask you a question.”

“Okay…” Eddie trailed, now facing Steve completely. 

“Would you ever want to go on a date?”

Eddie’s eyes widened, scanning Steve’s face to try and see if any of this was a joke. 

But there was no punchline. He was serious.

“Like, together?” he asked slowly.

Steve laughed, having to lean on a nearby table to stable himself. “Yeah! I don’t know, I just kinda thought we had some chemistry or something. I’m drunk so I can’t articulate it very well, but I’ve wanted to ask for a while.”

Eddie raised a hand to scratch along his stubble and thought about it. Had he really not noticed that Steve was into him? He thought he’d made it clear to Robin his affections for you. He’d just assumed she would tell Steve but, clearly, she hadn’t. 

It was all Eddie ever talked about when him and Robin were alone, holed up in Eddie’s bedroom with a couple of beers and When Harry Met Sally playing on his TV. She told him over and over how he should just say something to you or even drop hints here and there. And to be fair, he thought he had. Even tonight with the joint in your mouth and the comment about it not being as pretty as you. And you’d just waved it off. Acted like it was nothing. Moved on so quickly and so suddenly.

But. 

Well. 

Was there such harm in saying yes to Steve? You certainly hadn’t said anything and maybe it would be good for him to explore something with someone who he knew for sure wanted him. It could be simple with him. Steve was fun to be around. He could be happy with him if it went anywhere. Because it could go somewhere…

Right?

He stared at Steve for some time before he responded.

You tried to leave with Robin and Steve, but Eddie pulled you towards his van instead. That meant two blocks of walking together and he didn’t waste any time before he started talking.

“Where are you going, Weirdo?” he asked, throwing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into a side-hug. “You know you live closer to me.”

He was right. After Eddie had snagged his current job as a mechanic at a nice dealership, he’d gotten his own place so that he could have a space for himself. He really liked his alone time as much as he liked being around you or any of his other friends. One of the main reasons was because he needed complete silence when planning his campaigns and, well, Robin and Steve weren’t necessarily quiet people.

You chuckled, but it sounded forced. “Yeah, sorry. I guess I’m crossed or something,” you replied. “You’ve always had a higher tolerance than me.”

Eddie gave you a concerned look. “You okay?”

You nodded and tried to keep walking. 

But he didn’t.

“You’re not holding my hand right now.”

His voice was soft, hardly above a whisper.

“Oh, I guess I just wasn’t thinking about it tonight.”

Or you’re not actually cross-faded, Eddie thought to himself. But he didn’t say anything, just bumped your shoulder with his and tried to bring the energy back. You hadn’t smiled since you’d all left and there was no way you’d leave tonight without one. So, he turned around and started walking backwards, shimmying his shoulders. He cracked the code, watching as you began to snort. Thank God.

“So, did you like my killer vocals?” he asked, his playful tone raising the energy back to its rightful place. 

Until your smile faltered.

“Ohhhhhh, yeah,” you said, hardly sounding sarcastic or playful. And it certainly didn’t meet your eyes. “You and Steve looked like you were having fun.”

Eddie hesitated, wanting to tell you about Steve’s…proposition. Should he casually drop it into the conversation? Would tonight be the night that he admitted how he felt? Or would he continue to rely on you doing it?

“He asked me out,” Eddie said before he could think further, heart racing.

“What?”

“Yeah, right after we got offstage. Crazy, right?” 

“What did you say?” you asked, stopping in your tracks. You were only across the street from his van now. Only twenty steps. 

But you’d stopped. 

So, Eddie did too.

“I told him I’d think about it,” he replied.

“And have you? Thought about it?”

He tried to read your expression, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

So, he pushed. 

“I don’t know. Hadn’t thought of it before he said anything. I mean, it’s kinda out of nowhere…”

“Do you like him?” you whispered. 

Eddie thought about lying, to try and elicit some form of jealousy from you so he could start the conversation. Gamble and see what happens. But he couldn’t lie to you like that. It wouldn’t be right. It’d just be shitty. 

“Not really. Like, Steve’s pretty and all and he’s a really good friend or whatever. But I just haven’t really thought much about it and then suddenly there he was, poof, asking me out. And, I don’t know, I just thought it was a bit weird.”

You nodded along, looking away. “Yeah, that’s weird.”

Eddie couldn’t help himself. “Do you think I should say yes?”

“You’re asking me?” you asked, your eyebrows pinching together. 

You looked…upset. Why did you look so upset at the question?

“Absolutely,” he said, nodding.

“Why do you want my opinion? I mean, you’ve known him longer.”

Eddie shrugged. “Well, I don’t know. I value your opinion or whatever.”

You scoffed. “I don’t think I should be the determining factor on who you should date.”

You have no fucking clue.

“And if I wanted you to be?” 

The words left his lips before he could save himself and, God, his heart was banging on his flesh, like it was trying to escape. Like it wasn’t able to handle it any more in his wired brain.

You hesitated again. 

“Well, I don’t know.” Before Eddie could ask again, you sighed. “Do what you want, Eddie. Just…be careful.”

He shut his mouth again and nodded. 

“Yeah, alright. Sure.”

Eddie spent that night analyzing your hesitation. Maybe it was a sign. Maybe you were thinking about how stupid he was or, even worse, maybe you were just too scared to say anything. Like him. 

Your lips had quivered slightly. You were holding back those words again, the ones that felt like they’d already been shared and were waved off by the time you spoke again. And it drove him absolutely crazy.

And instead of asking you, he texted Steve.

About that date… When and where?

Taglist: @mrsjellymunson

#Eddie munson #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #best friend!eddie #modern!eddie munson #modern!eddie x reader #best friend!Eddie x reader #bisexual!Eddie x reader #bisexual!reader

[angelgoeslewd]

Resonance.

🔮 summary: it’s hard to remember. (solomon x reader x simeon)

⚠️ warnings: longing.

🌟 this work is being REWRITTEN! check back for the completion check ✅ and a new story with extra content!

Mornings with Solomon almost always felt straight out of a storybook.

The chilled autumn air, looming thicken and heavy with a melancholic tone, greeted you as you stretched your arms, teasingly leaving a trail of goosebumps as your warmed skin left the sanctuary of your bed. Cocytus Hall froze in the Devildom winters, its thick walls and dark tones doing little to keep the cold air comfortable enough. Thankfully you weren’t alone. You never were, these days. You had him to warm you up.

The thought was nearly was enough to tempt you back into his sheets, to snuggle back into his sweet scent, but… something was missing. As you blinked sleep from your eyes, glancing around the Sorcerer’s room, you realized the man in question was already gone. Confused, you sat up, looking around for your bedmate. He was just as avoidant of the cold weather as you were; while he did occasionally let you sleep in during summer, it was very unlike him to do so in the winter.

You shielded your eyes from the glare of sunlight that shone directly on you, trying to make out objects in the room from the dust floating in the air. “Sol…?” you called, pursing your lips as no response formed. That’s when the smell hit you.

Sweeten spice. Warm, honey-rich, and bready. Oh, Devils in Hell, was he trying to cook again!?

The thin camisole you wore did little to protect from the cold air, though it greatly increase the amount of skin you got to press against your beloved Master in bed; you cursed the decision now, pulling the comforter off the bed and rushing down the hall to the kitchen.

“Sol, I swear, that better be coffee I smell-”

Your words stopped short as your eyes made contact with the one man you expected to find up to no good. Fingers interlaced, under his chin, Solomon sat at the small table in the kitchen, a cup of warm, amber tea in front of him, the steam billowing up and blooming into white whips as it hit the air.

“Good morning, my dear.” His eyes raked over your body, lighting up with excitement as he reached your translucent dress, barely covered by the blanket you clutched, but relaxed your grip at his wandering eyes. It’s nothing he hasn’t already seen before…

“Ah… good morning, little lamb.”

In horror, your eyes shot over to the other man in your kitchen, the one you weren’t expecting, the one Solomon should’ve warned you about-

Simeon. Who stood at the stove with a apron on, a spatula in one hand; who met your own gaze with widened eyes of his own. His eyes flickered downwards every so often, but tried to maintain eye contact with you. By the way his cheeks darkened, you can tell he was failing.

“Solomon!” You squeaked, turning to him with a look of betrayal, your cold hands twitching — wanting to gather the heavy fabric as close to you as you could but you couldn’t. There was very little you could do here without directly making Simeon uncomfortable, and that’s not what you wanted. It wasn’t like you hated his attention on you, but what you, him, and Solomon had was from a different time, one that didn’t presently exist. Even so, you knew Simeon well enough, that if you tried to cover yourself, he’d blame himself for looking, for putting you in a position that you felt you had to do that. (When really, he should probably be blaming the man who most likely orchestrated this.) And the past affection you held for your former lover, even if he wasn’t the same one, still held you back.

The man who, currently, sipped his tea and shrugged with such blasé, that anyone who wasn’t in a 3 year long relationship with him would be able to tell that he was the mastermind behind this little plot that you could see right through. “Dove,” Solomon calls, setting down his cup with a slight clink!, motioning for you to come to him. “You haven’t met Simeon yet, have you?” You wanted to hit him. You wanted to absolutely smack him with all the force you could embarrassingly muster. He knows that the three of you-! “Come on now, he’s one of the newest exchange students. From the Celestial realm. I invited him over for… breakfast.” You didn’t miss his hesitation in that word. You didn’t miss how his lips twitched upwards as he tried to smiled reassuringly, twisting the action into a perverse grin, even if for only a second.

Your feet make a decision before your mind does, carrying you over to him with soft pit-pats before you can even register the movement. (This is how it’s always been, this is how you remember it — but this isn’t your Simeon. He isn’t your other part, currently.) Solomon grasps your waist and pulls you onto his lap as you approach, letting only him see your very unamused face as you finally give him an answer, “Yes. How very kind of you, Solomon. Very unfortunate that I didn’t know about it sooner.”

Ah… full name. He was in trouble then. You could practically see the drops of sweat forming on his forehead as he sheepishly answered — “Oh? Did I forget to mention that was today? I’m so sorry, Dove,” — though the act worked in seeming like he actually forgot. And that forsaken nickname-! That was-

“He calls you Dove?”

The both of you startled at the reminder of the other man in the room, forgetting who exactly you were locked in a silent, mind-reading argument about. But his soft, quiet voice was almost as loud as your own heartbeat, drawing out the longing you knew you both felt for him.

Simeon looked just as surprised, however, when both of your heads turned towards him, and his cheeks flushed before he quickly turned back to the stove, worrying over his pancakes to hide his embarrassment at the injection. “I, uhm, sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude, haha!”

“No, Simeon, it’s, it’s ok- ah!” You nearly tip over Solomon’s cup in your rush to stand, his hands meeting your own to steady the porcelain, before you continue getting up, with his help to heap the comforter over your arms like a shawl. “It’s just a, an old nickname he uses for me. It’s very dear to me.”

Simeon nods, still keeping his face down, towards the stove as you approach from behind. You feel like you’re cornering a scared bird, yet again, and try to keep your distance by stopping at the island.

“It’s… It’s cute…”

How you wished you could tell him that it’s his, it’s always been his, it belongs to him, just like you and Solomon, and both your hearts —

But when you looked back at your sorcerer, the same one who had his eyes locked on the back of the angel currently making you both pancakes…

When yours finally locked with his… and he sadly shook his head…

You both knew this longing would have to wait to be resolved, once more.

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #omnb #🍩 of obey me #solomon x you #solomon x reader #simeon x reader #simeon x you #solomon x you x simeon #solomon x reader x simeon #obey me x reader #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #solomeon #angelic songs

[the-almighty-god]

God doesn't play dice with the universe...

But I do like their black and white aesthetic.

#the almighty speaks #but only in riddles #though this barely counts as a riddle at all #ineffable #good omens #the plot thickens like honey #pieces of god

[witch-and-her-witcher]

Krampus, Dearest

elucien | E | krampus AU, smut | 3k

Tada! I am the Naughty SuS, @moonpatroclus! And I hope you enjoy this unhinged gift, Happy Holidays!!! <3 <3 <3

(thanks as always to @wilde-knight for the read through and enabling this unhinged plot bunny hehe)

*this fic based off of a pic that iykyk

~*~

Metal clanks across the cold, damp stone floor of the dungeon.

Hot breath rattles against the magical containment mask.

One beacon of gold light cuts through the single eye hole, locking on to the female who has broken the enchantment on the cell door. She steps inside in a swirl of sweet cinnamon and toffee, a billow of ebony velvet fabric of a cape with a hood pulled up to cover her features.

The male chained to the wall doesn’t react.

How long has it been since another has entered his cell? Since he’s heard the thrum of another heartbeat in close proximity?

The female pushes back her hood, lets her honey curls cascade around her heart shaped face. Blood red lips part as another spell is whispered. The metal falls away from the male’s wrists, his hoofs — the mask clatters to the floor last, with a resounding clunk.

Krampus is free.

Decades spent locked away.

“Oh, darling, darling,” the female coos, rubbing at the harsh lines dug into his flesh. “What has that cruel Saint Nick done to you?”

Krampus jerks away, his russet eye blown wide. The cloying sweet smell reminds him of —

“Only to hide the scent of the poison, my dear. To remove the guards, I had to ply them with gingerbread treats with a dash of Krampus spirit.”

“Who are you?” he asks, voice rough from disuse.

The female’s hands are back on him, carding through his fire red locks, stringy from lack of care. Her fingertips graze the base of his horns and Krampus shutters at the shocky wave of sensation that bursts through him.

His exposed cock thickens between them unbidden.

Eyes limned with silver; she pulls him firmly against her soft, plush curves. “It’s me, Elain. Oh, my dear Lucien, this rivalry with your brother has gone too far …”

“I don’t know what you speak of.” His voice is so gruff, grating in his throat. Krampus ruts his hips forward. He’s forgotten what the feel of his swollen, slick red cock along a female’s body feels like, that he’s certain of.

Elain?

He doesn’t know Elain. But he wants to know much more of her.

Tucked close, he picks up the anise concentration beneath that sickly sweet smell, the spicy cinnamon, the snap of ginger … Yes, poison for the guards. Not a lie. As his nose explores the gape of her neck she exposes to him, her hands slide down his body to rest on the unkempt fur on his hips, beneath the lean corded muscle of his abdomen.

“Not here, dear. Home, let me get you home and washed, fed, then there will be plenty of — oh! You naughty creature!” Elain giggles girlishly as his thrusts quicken, chasing the heady pleasure of friction against her body. It’s the loll of his thick tongue along the bottom of her jaw that elicits the strong response.

Krampus has been locked away for so long.

Too long.

This creature, this female, this Elain, is delicious now that he tastes the salt of her skin. The lingering flecks of the guards' blood brought along with her.

“How I’ve missed you, Lucien. How I’ve missed you.”

Krampus likes the sound of her featherlight voice on his ears. It’s been his own harsh breathing echoing in his ears, the slap of water droplets on the stone floor, the occasional grunt of the guard throwing his food onto the floor.

Elain whispers a spell that swallows them whole and deposits them in an overwhelmingly warm space. Krampus flinches at the glowing flames of the fire in the hearth, the candles lit all around —

“Shh, it’s alright. Let me help you.” She cups her hands over his eyes. The gold one whirs, trying to adjust to the return of nothingness.

The frantic beat of his heart calms. Krampus growls from deep within his chest. Unsettled.

Elain’s ample curves press against his back and her scent is muskier now, shot through with arousal. A lingering waft of ozone from whatever spell cleared away proof of her deeds to rescue Krampus. Krampus can’t think with the press of her body against his.

“There you are, my sweet,” she whispers against his ear. “You’re safe, you’re home. Let’s go to the bath now.”

They lounge in the bath. The longer Krampus soaks in the aromatic, bubbling hot water, the more his thoughts become less fuzzy. At the edge of his mind, memories are tugging and fighting their way back to his consciousness. 

Elain smiles, the supple arch of her cupid's bow stretching. “As the magic fades, you’ll remember more. There’s no rush, you’re safe here with me.”

“Elain.”

“That’s right, darling.”

Krampus likes the way “darling” curls around her tongue.

He also likes the way his tongue curves around her sudsy breast, the rose petal bud of her nipple. There isn’t an inch of her body he doesn’t want to touch, feel, claim. Perhaps the only kind thing his brother had done when locking him away was taking his memory of this flesh from him, repressed along with his magic with that horrible, cold mask.

Elain’s laughter slides into a breathy moan.

“I haven’t finished your hair yet. Or oiled your horns.”

Krampus bares his pointed canines at her, his tongue still dancing a wicked rhythm across her hot skin.

“Don’t think you’ll scare me, Krampus,” she says, brows furrowed as her lips part and her cheeks flush prettily. “You’re less intimidating than a hungry Lucien, I promise.”

“I’m very hungry now,” he growls, hooking her feet around his hips and drawing her to him.

Elain carefully wedges his erection between their bellies. Hers, so soft and giving. His, hard and rippling. “Just a bit longer of a wait, my love. I know how you hunger; I feel quite starved myself.”

A voice Krampus doesn’t know answers her. “You’ve been faithful?”

Her lashes become dewy. “Always, Lucien. There is no one else for me.”

Krampus blinks away the daze, metal eye whirring in confusion. In the quiet that lapses between them, Elain sniffles and lets fat tears roll down her cheeks while she fusses over his hair, his horns, with tender touches and herbal scented concoctions. 

He’s still painfully erect.

But something binds his curious hands only to her thighs, his tongue to the confines of his own mouth. Respect for this female’s emotions roiling to the surface. He doesn’t understand and Krampus has a deep desire to punish the off-putting display — he’s free, only debauchery and joy should reign. Yet he bides his time, certain he'll get what he desires in a howling end.

She towel dries his hair, squeezing the excess moisture from the now clean length of liquid flame. Krampus watches her breasts squeeze between her arms as she tenses and releases with each motion. 

Touch, he needs to touch.

“Where is the bedroom?” he demands.

Elain bites her bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth. “Are you sure you don’t want to rest first?”

“Where?”

“Through that door with the golden doorknob — Krampus, oh my!”

Krampus has her thrown over his shoulder, flush bottom under one hand to steady her. So close to his face, the honey sweet musk of her sex wafts to him between her parted thighs. The head of his cock weeps with anticipation.

As he swings open the ornate door to the bedroom, he nearly crumples under the weight of memory surging over him. The dark four poster bed, the plants growing in every corner, hanging from hooks and trailing viney growths around the bed’s canopy. The thick rug under foot. The great, arched windows overlooking a stand of trees and a garden he can’t see in the dark but he knows exists below.

“Elain,” he gasps, setting her onto her feet and staring deeply into her doe eyes. “Home, you’ve brought me —”

The clarity chokes as his hands rove her backside and the fleshy asset there pulls Krampus to the surface once more.

“On the bed. Now.”

The shift doesn’t throw her off. Elain nods eagerly, mounting the bed and waiting for his next command.

Krampus is too hot with desire to think through where he wants her next. He can only surge forward and press his cock into the crease of her backside. The slick red of his cock slides between her cheeks as he presses them together, taking handfuls of her flesh. All for him, taking it all for Krampus to revel.

“Where?” he demands on instinct. He doesn’t know what he’s asking the location of, but he knows he needs it.

Elain gestures towards the bedside. “There, darling.”

A bundle of birch branches. A length of black satin.

“Here,” she guides gently. “You’ll need to bind my wrists, dear. Do you remember how?”

“Of course.”

The ribbon flows easily into place, magic from a slowly refilling well. His hips drive forward, seeking more and more. Whatever knows her, knows how to please her, but more importantly sate his own hunger … Her ass begs for his punishment, milky, unblemished skin too perfect, too pert. It needs to bear his mark. 

Krampus ties her wrists in front of her and takes his rute in hand.

Pliant, flushed, supple and awaiting his next command, Elain is kneeling on the bed with her face pressed down into the mattress. Lips parted, breaths shallow. Lashes thickly sweeping along her cheeks. Ass high, an appetizing peach ready to be bitten into.

Krampus’s fingertips ghost over the flesh of her ass, over the black silk and lace panties that do nothing to dampen the heady scent of her blossoming arousal. He grazes the ribbon that holds the panties in place, feels her tighten in anticipation … Then moves his hand back down so the round of his palm is on her exposed plump of skin where her backside meets her thighs.

He rubs a few warming circles there, lets his thumb graze her inner thigh.

Elain whimpers.

Krampus brings his rute down on that warmed through spot of flesh with a resounding, punishing thwack.

The sweet gasp that rents through the female beneath him curls his insides. His cock aches with each sound of pleasure, the thrill electrifying, mouthwatering.

Each hit, each slap of unforgiving reed along tender flesh, pulls another gasp, another whimper, from those salaciously full lips. Elain pinches her brows together, tries to bury her face into the blanket — but Krampus pulls her chin back so he can see what he’s doing to her.

How he’s wrecking her with the punishment of his rute.

And he hasn’t even touched her dripping cunt yet.

He lets the bundle of birch slap against her ass until he’s satisfied with the red fractals of swollen skin blooming, the thin sheen of sweat on her skin, how she tenses with each strike and then dips her spine into a tempting curve when the pain passes …

The slick, sticky arousal he can scent seeping between her thighs intoxicates him. It’s like the first greedy guzzle of life’s richest champagne, to have a female wanting for his touch … Krampus has missed this.

His divine purpose, to sow mischief and revelry. To fornicate and punish wicked deeds.

And wicked Elain is, for she peers over her shoulder at him, and asks, “More, Krampus?”

More.

More.

“How naughty have you been while I was away, sweet girl? Was that enough of a punishment? Or do you have more to pay retribution for? Don’t lie or I won’t be able to make you feel better after.”

“I haven’t, Krampus,” she spills out fervently, “Only those guards, I only did away with them to get to you. Otherwise, I have bided my time, studying and improving on my skills so I could only free you and be with you again!”

Krampus rubs the swelling tendrils left by his rute and hisses through his teeth as her breath catches in her throat at the pleasure-pain. How she sucks in sharply when he presses his thumb nail along one of the ridges that is pin pricked with blood.

“I believe you, so I’ll reward you.”

His cock is so hard, so swollen with need, it pulses with its own heartbeat. The throbbing makes him too hasty to fiddle with ties or ribbons. Krampus rips her panties away from the flesh he desires so carnally.

The cunt revealed is too sumptuous to deny himself a taste.

Krampus presses his fingers into the flesh of her thighs to part Elain’s legs wide enough for his mouth to slot between those tempting folds. His chin nestles against her thatch of golden girls, his tongue lathes her cunt in a broad stripe before swirling around her entrance.

When the long, thick appendage pushes inside of her, his ass clenches with the resistance he meets.

“My sweet,” he gasps, reeling back. “You really haven’t …”

“For you, Krampus, only for you,” Elain proclaims, knees wobbling. “Please, please, don’t stop.”

Stop? As if such a possibility could exist.

He flicks his tongue over the swollen nub at the tip once, twice, as many times as it takes until she’s shaking and bucking with need, and then he plunges back into her. If he wanted to, he could press his nose closer and inhale the earthy aroma of all of her most intimate parts, but Krampus needs to work his darling open slowly and fears too much of his tongue too quickly will ruin her for his cock.

The weeping, jutting red of his erect cock unsheathed from his foreskin will just have to wait.

“Oh, oh, just like that, Krampus,” she croons, and he thinks he could get her to say anything he wants as he plays her like a puppet.

The walls of her cunt begin to flutter and tense against his tongue. He can taste how close she is, the heavenly slick of her insides coating his chin, his lips, and he needs to taste, to feel her —

Elain cries out in ecstasy as she shakes and comes undone around him.

Krampus crows with pride in his gut, as low as the searing arousal harbored there.

Yes, yes, yes. This is what he has been craving, alone in that cell with only his own hands to occasionally pleasure himself. He bites the sensitive skin of her inner thigh and flushes further with male pride as Elain keens beneath him.

“Wicked,” she calls him like it's the sweetest compliment. “Oh, how I’ve missed your wicked tongue.”

The lilt of her blissed out words, the blush streaking her freckled cheeks, her neck, her breasts if they weren’t hiding from him …

He turns her over, pressing her bound hands above her head. Holding them needlessly in place with one hand over her wrists. He straddles her and stares down at this perfect female beneath him. Stretched out, bared, all for him. A willing sacrifice of flesh to his wicked ways.

His fur covered knees shuffle along the covers until he’s straddling her breasts and his thick cock is hanging just above her lips.

“Open.”

Elain opens her mouth, holding her tongue out flat to graciously welcome the head of his cock into its warm embrace. She wets the rest of his length with her hot mouth as he pushes in. It seems like an impossible fit, but there’s minimal choking as Krampus presses to the back of her throat, stretching sweet Elain’s cherry red lips at the widest part of his cock.

Krampus reaches down to knot his hand in her honey waves. Her eyes are shut, gentle moisture rolling from them and while he should know it for a bodily reaction, Krampus can’t help but know deep in his core they’re tears of joy to be reunited with his cock. Elain is grateful to have him in her body once more.

Pulling back out enough to thrust back in nearly undoes him, but it’s when she swallows around him when he sheathes himself once more … Krampus can only last through a few more quick thrusts before his balls are taut and he’s cresting into climax.

Elain takes it all.

Krampus howls with delight.

His punishing thrusts as he empties himself down her throat, the harsh yanks on her hair, with adoring fawn eyes turned on him, watching his every twitch and expression as he wrings himself dry.

“Elain, Elain, Elain.”

When he draws back, fae legs replace the furred ones. Feet where there were hooves.

“Oh, Lucien.” This time, the tears are obviously joyous as she throws her arms around him and pulls him down into a crushing embrace.

Lucien nuzzles into her hair, gentles the spot on her head that must ache from his hold earlier. He chokes on his own tears as memories, emotions, self-awareness comes crashing back to him. His brother has kept him in his demon form for so long, the dissociation is overwhelming.

Elain sobs even as his cock hardens once more, just from the proximity of her.

“Let me untie you.”

She clutches the sides of his face, a delirious smile on her lips. She kisses him tenderly, and then with searing passion while lifting her hips up to meet his thickening erection.

“More, my love. More.”

“I’ve missed you,” Lucien whispers into her skin as he pushes inside of her and gives her anything she could possibly want — and more.

It’s only as they lay in a heap of limbs, chests still heaving in post-orgasmic bliss, that Lucien lets reality creep into his thoughts.

“Elain …”

“Yes, my love?”

“Just how many guards did you …?”

“I’d expect a visit from St. Nick or his partner by the end of the night.”

Lucien groans happily and pulls Elain’s leg back over his lap to better angle a kiss. His sweet angel of death, willing to impart any punishment necessary to return him, Krampus, to the freedom he deserves.

“What will I do with you, darling?”

Elain’s devilish eyes glint on the rute once more. “I have plenty of ideas.”

#for my sweet sunshine darling! #sorry i cant be normal hehe #krampus au #elucien #elain x lucien #acotar #acotar fanfic #smut #a little bit dark

[the-metatron]

Why aren't my miracles working? Has someone used a miracle blocker?

What in the world is going on?

I feel almost...human. As if I were @enoch-the-human again.

#the metatron speaks #the voice of god speaks #enoch speaks #the plot thickens like honey

[methuselah-son-of-enoch]

Hey, does your dad pay you to work in his coffee shop? Cause if you’d like to get paid, Hell can offer you $5000 a day, along with healthcare benefits and a union.

Eric

That is a generous offer, Eric, but I cannot, in good conscience, seek employment in Hell. Nor can I betray my father.

No, my father does not pay me, but t is an honor to volunteer at @pret-a-metatron. The work we do here is important. We offer food and drink to the hungry, and we assist those that have risen from the dead--as one of the returned myself, I feel it my duty to help them in any way I can.

#methuselah answers #methuselah speaks #enoch the human #the metatron #good omens zombie apocalypse #the plot thickens like honey #not really but there is still sort of a plot at least kinda

[enoch-the-human]

Why would we show you kindness? You put God in a jar!

This is the same website that laughed as 5 rich idiots got themselves crushed in a tin can at the bottom of the ocean.

I am cackling at your downfall and I scoff at your stupid lattes.

I put part of God in a jar, not all of Her. Surely that is forgivable? I was just trying to keep what I was able to find of Her safe. After all, the earth She had hidden Herself on was about to be destroyed--and still will be, just as soon as I get my angelic status back.

#enoch answers #enoch speaks #the plot thickens like honey

[pavus]

kinktober day 3 : domination & submission. volotramp's bg3 kinktober prompts. ship : rosalind redwright x enver gortash. rating : explicit. words : 1312.

“Open.” Rosalind sucked in a sharp breath as the head of Gortash’s cane rapped against her unarmored knee. Her foot slid outward on reflex, the sole of her boot catching against a wrinkle in the rug stretched out beneath them both. She yanked the offending limb back and spread her legs as instructed, her fingers curling around her seat’s smooth wooden edge. In her eyes, there was not so much as a flicker of stubbornness; there was only honey, warmed by the fire and drowning in the endless black of her pupils. 

Gortash stepped between her thighs. His broad figure cut away at the radiant light of the carefully tended fireplace, cloaking her in shadow. Still, there was enough light for her to peer up at him and see the parts of his face she’d committed to memory long ago – his long nose down to its rounded tip, his dark and densely lashed eyes, the rounded curve of his chin. 

Her lips parted.

She wanted to kiss him, but that was not part of this game.

“Have a thought, do you?” Gortash asked. He tossed his cane upwards, catching it closer to its hooked, filigreed head. The gold was cool against her jaw, but only for a moment. Its surface warmed against her flushed skin. “We discussed the parameters of this meeting of ours hours ago, hero.”

The way he wielded that word against her like a knife made some greedy thing inside of her throb.

“Give yourself to me,” he repeated. His voice couldn’t have been farther from a seductive purr. Instead, his words were precise and tenderly laid, utterly diplomatic. He spoke to her as one would speak to a particularly voracious merchant – a familiar tone that sent a tingle down the curved length of her spine. “And in return, I will give you some measure of relief.”

Rosalind nodded, her gaze falling to where he stood between her legs. A lock of ginger hair loosed itself from her bun only to brush her forehead like the calming thumb of a lover.

She understood. He knew that she understood.

“Good.” This time, Gortash purred like a kitten. “Look at me, Ros.”

Gripping at the edge of her chair, she did as she was told. She leaned her jaw against the head of his cane and peered up at him to find a pair of hungry eyes staring down at her. The rounded curve of his jaw tightened as he set his teeth together, just as his chest rose and fell as he fought to keep his own composure as he looked at her. She saw him falter, felt the head of his cane press more sharply against her cheek. It forced one of her eyes shut.

“Pretty thing,” Gortash exhaled, slowly picking himself back up, slowly piecing himself back together. Watching his laces tighten was intoxicating. Rosalind felt her blood thicken in her veins. “Use your hands to unlace your trousers.”

The fire on the far side of the room felt as if it stood right beside her, flames licking at her knuckles as they bled of color under the grip she held on the seat of her chair. Too warm. She was too warm. Her thighs shifted, knees eager to press inwards on each other to protect her vulnerable center, but with Gortash standing between them, such a thing was impossible.

He laughed. The sound made her stomach bottom out.

“That isn’t what I said.”

He was right. It hadn’t been his instruction. What had been? How had she already lost the plot? No –

Rosalind’s hands lifted from the edge of her seat. The shape had bitten into the cup of her palm, leaving reddened skin behind. Blood rushed down into her trembling fingertips as she brought both hands up to her waist. He told her to unlace her trousers. That was easily done.

She leaned her head down to look at the meticulously tied bow, but all she caught was a glimpse before the head of his cane pushed against her chin, forcing her head back up in the direction of his face. “No peeking,” he murmured to her, a damning grin smearing across his full lips as she shifted fitfully on the chair. He knew her fingers were stumbling. 

Her brows pinched sharply together. She couldn’t unlace the bow; she couldn’t find the origin of the knot, not without looking at it.

“Tell me, Ros,” Gortash continued. As he spoke, the intricately molded head of his cane rubbed up and down the underside of her chin, down the length of her throat, then back again. “If I help, I will make things more difficult for you. Are you willing?”

She tried again. Failed again.

Rosalind looked at him, her eyes narrowed.

“Speak,” he allowed.

She swallowed hard and grimaced, nudging the cane away before responding with an eager, “Yes.”

“Hold my cane.” Again, she did as she was commanded. The body of his can was warm where he’d held it, as if his hands were burning as hot as her own. He did not linger upon the moment before he reached down with both hands, his knee leaning on the chair between her thighs as he curled over her. The laces fell apart beneath agile fingers.  “How embarrassing for you to require assistance with such a simple task.” The breath that left her shook on her parted lips. He was close – near enough for her to smell the musk and black cherry and clove of his perfume, near enough for her to smell the wine he’d fruitlessly offered her, near enough for her to smell the oil on the gloves he’d tucked into his jacket pocket when she arrived. He was near enough to kiss.

“Thank you,” Rosalind whispered, “for your help.”

Surprise gleamed in his dark eyes. Even still, even after so many years of smiles and thank yous, they shocked him into silence for a moment that stretched on painfully long. He did not know what to do with her. She did not know what to do with him. Other than this.

His hand curled around the one she used to hold onto his cane. The grip he used was an uncomfortable one, but she made no attempt to wriggle free. Rosalind simply stared up at him, their noses nearly touching, wanting nothing more than to bridge the gap between them and feel the pressure of his mouth against hers, if only for a moment. Such a flagrant streak of disobedience would require punishment.

Gortash slipped his cane from her grip and cast it aside, chuckling when Rosalind jumped at the clatter it made against the floor. And then his hand was on her – not the cane, not her laces, but her.

There was hardly enough room for him between the stiff fabric of her trousers and the soft flesh beneath, but still, he forced his way in, shoving past her underwear and diving sharply downward. His fingers deftly split her lips before finding the bud between them. 

How many times had he touched her in such a way? How many times had he used his callused fingertips to toy with her until he brought her off? Each time was slightly different. Each time was perfect.

Suddenly, the word difficult blazed through her mind.

Rosalind sucked in a startled gasp as Gortash pinched her clit sharply between his middle and forefinger.

Pain was not pain any longer, not to her. Her thighs shook.

He leaned forward. The width of his body pushed her flush to the tall back of her chair. Nose buried deep into her hair, she heard him take in a deep breath, smelling her, swallowing down the surge of arousal that threatened to wring the wind from his lungs. 

“You will try harder to heed me next time.”  “Yes,” Rosalind exhaled. “Yes.”

#tavtash #enver gortash #lord enver gortash #type: writing #game: baldur's gate 3 #ch: enver gortash #oc: rosalind redwright #ship: gortash x rosalind #mine: writing #i'll fill in the others on days when i don't write so much kljdfa #but.... yeah!! here!! throws this at you @ 90 mph.