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#never enough chapter 8
doctorweebmd · 4 months
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i hate/love that writers intuition when you KNOW a chapter isn't ready for prime-time but you want to post it NOW
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orcelito · 2 years
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What If I didn't have a brain of a pessimistic squirrel that takes everything out of proportion and can't deal with any thing
#speculation nation#me getting 4 comments 3 of them being long & detailed and wonderful#(which i want to reply to them so baaad but i dont have a brain rn. tomorrow i will)#but i also lost Two bookmarks (gasp!) and i have 4 comments when my average is like 7 or 8 ish. sometimes more.#and my brain is like 'do people not like it? 😭'#trying to beat my brain back with a stick like a: this is a Long Chapter so people will need time to absorb it#and b: even if i dont have a ton of reception i still have 3 very detailed comments that express how much they love it#those comments r the only thing keeping me sane rn ngl.#this is why people say not to rely on reception for satisfaction with ur own work bc it will never be enough#god i really hope andi can recover enough to return to beta reading soon bc i am losing my mind#might also be the sleep deprivation talking. but The Anxiety is easier to ignore if i have someone there to reassure me#prior to posting. so that i know at Least one person enjoys it.#ughhhhhhngg me planning on A Part being included next chapter that is uhhh#kind of a difficult topic to cover. Essential but idk how ppl will feel about it. im gonna include it but i will be anxious about it.#ngl anytime i have smth that is Uhhh taking any kind of stance with anything or making any kind of statement#it makes me so anxious to put that out there. so many little emails to tell people how i view the world...#just currently dealing with smth i thought was good n reasonable n important that has gotten 0 attention and im just like#i hope ppl dont hate it... i hope that's not why im losing bookmarks....#maybe ppl have just lost interest in the game. or maybe ppl hate where im going with the story.#i CANNOT tell and it drives me insane. little hampster beaver brain needs to Not.#maybe its time to sleep. can u tell by this post that i can barely keep my eyes open rn? i think i probably could tell.#discacc shit#sure lol it deals with it enough
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byronicbi · 2 months
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You've been talking about ACFD for a while but I don't see it on your AO3 and I'm curious about what it is and where it's being posted. Sorry to bother you!
OMG it's no bother at all!
ACFD—A Composition for Decomposition—is a FNaF longfic I started writing back in November! It's not on my AO3 account because I decided to post it on my alt AO3, the one where I post fics people have commissioned from me.
Why did I do this? Well. sldkjfhsdf There's two reasons.
First, let's just say I had a really rocky start where I was legitimately aggrieved by the fact that FNaF, of all things, latched itself onto my brain. (And also like, I had an IRL give me shit for it and my socially anxious ass reacted rather badly to that.) Like, it's not even a secret that that specific account is tied to me but it made me feel a little bit better to have a degree of separation NOT THAT IT MATTERS because now my main AO3 account is also getting an influx of fic and this blog also just became overrun (that one's entirely tumblr's fault, because that was the whole point of keeping a separate blog that they went and terminated for 0 reason).
Second, due to the nature of the fic itself it made sense to have it on that account? It's no surprise that when folks tend to commish fic of the spicy variety, it tends to be 2nd person Reader Insert (not ALWAYS, but that's where the money's at), and, well, ACFD is written in the 2nd person.
It's also technically a reader insert by design, but not in the way you'd think. It's not a "self-insert" type of reader insert, because the fic was more of an experiment in which I wanted to try writing a fic that could mimic FNaF's gameplay. Basically, it's not a very good reader insert because the MC is a fully fleshed out character within a pretty extensive narrative that meshes the movie!verse with the game/book verses, with some added attempts of cranking up the horror factor (as I do) for a more mature audience---but yeah. In the end, I have an 80k (and ongoing) 2nd Person POV fic that's OC/Canon where the MC goes unnamed and lacking physical descriptors because I had to give readers something if they were going to sit through it.
Anyway, the MC's name is Ricky Kronbach (aka mr. ricky tag on this blog) and to those who are FNaF lore savvy, he's MCI!Jeremy's big brother. The basis for the fic is me running away with the concept of the kids having been swapped in the movie (Vanessa being Will's kid, while Mike, Abby, and Garrett are "Henry's" kids) and adjusting lore bits to fit that entire ordeal. There's also a plethora of other original characters and basically I just wrote a free FNaF book with an E rating. LMAO.
........... This got away from me I'm sorry this is so long. K BYE.
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itsbenedict · 6 months
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mutual 1: conventional morality is nowhere near cringe enough to be based. you agree.
mutual 2: i'm going to liveblog my attempt at solving this obscure statistics conundrum you've definitely never heard of
mutual 3, reblogging mutual 2: oh, yeah, the Obscure Statistics Conundrum, we've all seen it. i have strong opinions on the obvious easy and simple way it should be solved, somehow
mutual 4: i need. to fuck that old man.
mutual 5: picture of a bird
mutual 5: picture of a bird
mutual 5: picture of a bird
mutual 6: [twenty-post long reblog chain arguing about politics with a stranger in stubborn defiance of the obvious fact that the stranger is not reading a single word they're saying]
mutual 7: here's my take on the latest chapter of the current Wildbow serial that you're going to have to blur your eyes and skip past because you haven't found time to read all five million words of this cool thing you don't want to be spoiled on
mutual 8: what if [the most deranged shit you've ever heard in your life]- and we were both girls?
mutual 4: don't forget i need to fuck that. old man. please.
mutual 9: [automatically generated link to a post on some ideologically extreme underground social media site with ten users that they use instead]
mutual 5: picture of a bird
mutual 5: picture of a bird
mutual 5: picture of a bird
mutual 5: god every single thing about my life situation sucks so fucking much i want to cry and now you do too
mutual 5: picture of a bird
mutual 10: reblogging that last picture of a bird
mutual 5: picture of a bird
mutual 4: that old man. you know. what i need.
mutual 11: here's today's doodle :) [outlandishly beautiful piece of original art which gets seven notes]
mutual 12: only posted eighteen spicy takes about gender today, so here's a new one i just came up with. is this anything
mutual 13: hey, wanna look at this pornography that somehow hasn't gotten taken down by Tumblr yet?
mutual 14: [a pun so bad she gets put in the fucking Hague]
mutual 5: picture of a bird
mutual 5: picture of a bird
mutual 5: picture of a bird
mutual 15: [21st reblog on the politics reblog chain where everyone is talking past each other and has zero intention of persuading anyone]
mutual 4: i need to FUCK that old man. what do you mean he's dead
mutual 8: what if i fucked that old man. and we were both girls.
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imsilay · 8 months
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LETHAL
NSFW! mdni, cw: possessive behavior, somnophilia, drugging, stalker!König, obsessive König (idk lmk if i forget anything)
word count: 1.5k
summary: he was picky and he picked you.
next chapter here
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art cr: Tava_tavatic on twt
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You were doing the dishes as he was watching you from the apartment building next door which had a wonderful view of your bedroom and kitchen. He had seen enough to know many things about you and your life. You left your house at 10 AM every day and returned at 8 PM. You were a homebody, never wanting to leave your home aside from work and you only had your cat for company. You lived alone in a nice house and didn't often have friends over. He couldn't see any guys when your friends came by, meaning you were single, perfect.
He could even hear the music you were playing while doing the dishes. Your delicious-looking lips moved in time with the song, mumbling the lyrics. He couldn't tear his eyes off your lips. Focusing on them and imagining how they would taste. Perhaps blackberry? He had seen the lip balm you bought a few days before when you complained about how dry your lips were in the winter. Would you let him taste it and find out? Would you even look at him after discovering what he did?
His thoughts were cut off when you finished cleaning the dishes and embraced your cat, it was bed time. His gaze was glued on your back as you left the kitchen and disappeared into your living room, and then reappeared in your bedroom. He knew every part of your house. His heart raced when you put the cat down on your bed and then began removing your shirt revealing the curves of your body and the black bra he was stupidly fond of. He moved closer to the window without realizing it. Crossing his arms to stop the aching feeling to touch your smooth skin, his fingers dug into his arms when you finally tossed the shirt somewhere in your room, probably onto the chair, and then threw yourself onto your mattress.
Yawning and getting comfortable with your cat, it purred and get its place next to you. He wishes it was him… Curling next to you falling asleep with the warmth of your body. But it was impossible, cause he was just your sweet neighbor that you only had small chats, cause he was fucking massive and probably would take the majority of the space of your bed. You eventually fell asleep, he checked his watch. Just in time.
Well maybe it wasn’t that impossible…
He continued his observation for a few more minutes but he was unable to contain himself anymore. He had to be with you. He had to feel you, your body, your hair, the curve of your waist and hips. He wanted to touch your lips, but he was afraid that if he kissed you he would just get lost into them and fuck you there.
He shook his head and pulled himself out of his thoughts before they got dirtier. He grabbed the keys of his and your house and made his way to your apartment. After entering your home and closing the door behind himself, he took his sweet time to breathe in the smell. It was full of you, it made his head spin and heart race. This was his first time coming into your house when you’re there. You were so introverted and had barely any friends. You were living happily in your small world, that was until he came.
The man was over two meters and had on a strange looking mask. He immediately drew your attention because he just looked like some game characters you played. At first he was distant, cold. His icy-blue eyes were intimidating but somehow inviting. You were the first to start the conversation with him, asking about his work. You two became closer with time but it was never too friendly. He was just some neighbor you knew. But he wanted more. Much more.
So after many months of observation and gaining a lot of information about you, he managed to copy your keys. He would come into your house and feed your cat with treats making his presence known and loved. Unfortunately just with your cat. But now his dreams were coming true. He had given you some homemade cookies. And poor you accepted them without any suspicion and now you were on your bed, in a deep sleep, as he walked into your room. Your cat immediately noticed him.
But he was too mesmerized by your sleeping form on the bed that he was frozen in his place. The cat meowed loudly, drawing his attention to it, he gave it some treats he brought with him. Everything was planned. When the cat was out of the room and the door of your bedroom was locked, he walked to your bed. He was finally here. Right next to you as you slept beautifully. He swallowed thickly and sat on the bed. The bed made a squeaking noise with his weight.
You looked even more pretty this close. His gaze lingered on your face; his breath hitched when his gaze stopped on your lips. He reached out a hand and brushed the strands of hair off your face. He was so nervous that his hands were shaking when he touched your hair. It was as soft as he imagined it would be. He tucked your hair behind your ear; his fingers lingered on your jaw before stopping on your chin and tilting your head up just a little, just so he could see your face better. Your lips parted and a soft sigh escaped from your lips when he did; his heart skipped a beat.
You continued to sleep, without noticing the man's touch on your face, thanks to the cookies. His thumb caressed your lips. He closed his eyes for a moment and bit his lower lip. He was holding the urge to give into his feelings, to give in to his desires and take you just then, in that moment. But he had to be patient. He wanted your first time together to be special, like you deserved. But it was turning him on so much to see you in that vulnerable state. He just wanted to tore of your bra and see what’s underneath. Then move to your sleeping shorts and take them off along with your panties so he could eat you out until you cum or wake up. He wondered what your expression would look like.
But still… it was just his fantasies. It caused him pain physically. “Scheiße, Maus.” he mumbled with a sigh. He took of his mask with his still trembling hands and put it on your nightstand, then took of his boots placing them on the floor next to your bed. He was ready to curl up with you. He climbed next to you, close. So close that you felt his breath on your face. His heart was beating like crazy now. His hands found your waist. “Gott.” he hissed when he felt how soft your skin was. His arms snaked around your waist and drew you close until your body fit perfectly with his, lips only centimeters apart. “Mine.” he growled. He felt like he was going to have a heart attack because the proximity of your body. Your body was almost disappeared inside his arms. It only made him want to protect and posses you.
His fingers caressed your skin as he watched your face closely. To memorize everything about you. He even tried to count your eyelashes. It was stupid but he was just too lost in your beauty. One of his hands found yours and put it on his face. Like you was caressing his cheek. It was pathetic but he was too desperate for your affection. He left your hand on his cheek and his hand found your back. His fingers tracing up and down on your spine then eventually stopped on the clasp of your bra. “Nein, not now.” he scolded himself with his eyes frowned. His gaze found your lips again and softened. He wanted- no he craved to kiss you. Your lips looked delicious.
He swallowed and closed his eyes promising himself that he would stop after a taste. When he opened his eyes, he was determined to contain himself; to show restraint. So, his hand was on your chin again, tilting your head up to meet his lips. When his lips brushed against yours, he took in a sharp breath; like someone just hit him with a bat, kissing you felt like it. His hand on your waist pulled you closer, as close as he could. His kiss started slowly, with all of his love and affection; with all of his feelings. But the craving... the craving only grew. His whole body shook as he stole your breath. The determination of containing himself was no where to be found with his morals. He moaned into your mouth and his cock throbbed. His hands traveled down and big palms covered your hips. The kiss was sloppy and hungrier now. He was too lost into heaven. You were his heaven.
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a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc<3
Stalker König has a special place in my heart. this is definitely my favorite work. also i post everyday -sometimes 2 posts in a day- so if you follow me i won’t disappoint ;)
i’m so sleepless so i’m just gonna post this and post the rest tomorrow.
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lovifie · 2 months
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Lift Me Off My Feet
Chapter 5: Home Sweet Home
Masterlist
Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12
Aprox 5k words
W: Captain Price x Reader x Kyle Garrick (the poly 141 is building).
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“I honestly think this is an improvement from your flat.” Ghost comments leaving your bag on a chair. “It is sad, but it's true.”
And he is right. The safehouse you have been assigned to is not ugly, it is just… artificial. Decorated to look lived in, but you know it isn't. Photos of people you don't know on the walls, books you haven't read and blankets you can tell are going to be itchy. But no one can trace you back here.
Ghost drove you here, Price made Soap and Gaz stay with him to have a chat with them. Chat, you are glad to be able to avoid, at least for now. 
The safe house is not too far away from the base, but still enough not to be linked to it. It is a nice neighbourhood, better than your last one, it makes you want to go for a walk. 
“Try to always stay inside, alright?” Ghost tells you sitting beside you. He caresses your thigh looking at your face. “I know it sucks to be stuck inside, but this whole thing would lose its purpose if anyone sees you leaving or entering the house.”
“So I can’t never leave the house?” You ask looking down. His gloved hand still caressing your thigh, and your hands find their way to it, playing with the fabric of his glove. 
“You can, just need to be careful. But never alone, unless it is an emergency. Please, if Price hears you are wandering around alone he'll have a stroke.” He chuckles, stops moving his hand and instead puts the palm up letting you play with his hand. “You should have seen him yesterday when he woke up.”
“Was it that bad?” You ask, guilt flooding your heart at the mental image of Price panicking because of you. 
Ghost nods. “He thought that we were pulling a prank on him, that we have you hidden. He made us show him our room, and then he went to look all around the base. Until I showed him the security footage of you leaving he didn't stop looking around.” 
“I feel like an asshole.” You admit, unable to look at him and focusing on your hands together with his. Your fingertips find their way inside the glove and you begin to caress the palm of his hand mindlessly.
“It was a pretty asshole move.” Ghost chuckles looking down at your hands. “But I can understand why you would do it, everyone else too. No one blames you for doing it, birdie. You know that, right?” 
It is then that you notice the current situation, Ghost is sitting side by side with you. Thigh pressing yours, one of his hands is on your lap with your own hand inside his glove caressing his skin, feeling the warmth. His other arm is resting on the back of your chair, and his hand find its way to your jaw, caressing your cheek with his thumb and moving your head to look at him. 
He is wearing a basic black balaclava, no paint around his eyes, and you can see his blonde lashes for how close he is to you. Unconsciously, you look to where you know his lips are and you notice movement under the mask, he is smiling. He sighs and presses his forehead with yours. “C’mon, birdie. I made a promise this morning, don't make me break it so fast.” 
“A promise?” You ask curious as you look back to the hands on your lap.
“Yeah, to Price. You are not supposed to know it.” He chuckles. “I shouldn’t tell you.”
And you shouldn't push it, you should be nice. But you are nosy and he hasn't said no jet. So you look up to him, through your lashes and ask softly. “I won't say anything… please?” 
He groans closing his eyes and pulls his head back looking ahead of you. “How can I say it?” He pulls the hand from behind your head to rub his face. “Price and I talked last night, about how since we met there has been an… attraction between all of us.”
“Okay.” You agree, feeling a light blush rise on your face. 
“And we talked about how we did a poor attempt at having control over it. And how we basically jumped you, and that was wrong of us, like, you were literally handcuffed when you were with Gaz.” He says sighing, feeling embarrassed with himself. “And I definitely shouldn't have done it the way I did.”
“It's okay.” You admit, still unable to look at his face. “I didn't complain… wait.” You say finally looking up at him. “You knew Gaz and I were…”
“Humping each other like teenagers? Yeah, I noticed.” He says chuckling when he sees your shocked expression. “Birdie, I took the car for maintenance the next morning to check the car's suspension because of how many potholes and curbs I hit. And you think I didn't do it or purpose?”
You cover your face with your hands chuckling in embarrassment, Ghost hugs you from the side bringing you close to his chest making you feel the vibrations from his laughs. “Are you getting shy now, birdie?” He asks and you nod, unable to answer. He then gets close to your ear and whispers: “You weren't shy when I had my tongue up your ass.”
You shriek slapping his arms to get away making him laugh with his whole chest and when you manage to get up, he grabs your hips keeping you within arm's reach. “Let me go, I'm going to sleep.” You say trying to keep some kind of pride. 
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, was just playing.” He says standing up and hugging you again. “Just like how I played with your clit.” 
“Shut up!” You exclaim, heating up, whether it is from embarrassment or something else, is not important right now. He laughs again and drops a kiss on the top of your head as a peace offering: “Go to bed, birdie. I'm sure you didn't get much sleep last night.”
You slap his arm one last time before walking down the hall, but he calls you again making you turn: “Take this, is a burner phone, so no one can track you through the phone. Price, Soap, Gaz and my number are already on. If you need to send anyone else a message or something, we will send it through your phone back at base, the antenna back at the base makes it impossible to track.”
You take the phone from his hand and slap your forehead when you see the time. “I need to call my boss!”
“About that, you don't have to worry about it. You are now on a witness protection system, so you actually can't just go. Price is going to talk to him, and he will figure it out. Price will take care of it, don't worry.”
You nod, not completely convinced, and after getting a kiss on your forehead you get inside the room, ready to sleep.
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A couple of hours later, the clatter of pans and dishes wakes you up. You look at the time and realise you have slept almost all morning, so you stretch still on the bed, stand up, wash your face in the bathroom and make your way to the kitchen when you are met with Kyle's back.
“Morning.” You say smiling walking up to him. He whips around looking disproportionately scared by the situation and you look at him confused.
“Fuck sake, doll. We gotta get you a bell or something, almost shit myself.” He says with a hand on his chest and you laugh at him.
“That's what you get for being a snitch!” You exclaim putting your hands on your hips.
A perfect smile appears on his face that gets you weak on your knees, and he cups your face still smiling. Dammit, pretty boy. “I just couldn’t help it, luv. You look irresistible when you are flustered.” He says giving you a peck on your cheek. “Are you hungry? I brought you some groceries and bought you lunch.”
You look over his shoulder to check what he bought, and satisfied with his choice you bit the bait of his peace offering. “You are safe for now.”
The safe house is far from a mansion, but still, it is much better than your flat. More than one person can fit into the kitchen, there is a sofa and an armchair in the living room with a TV on a coffee table. Down the hall, there are two rooms and a bathroom with an actual bathtub inside. So yeah, a lot better than the old one.
Kyle and you have lunch on the sofa, and after you both stay seated basking in each other company. You can't help but stare at him and think about the first time you were close to him.
In just the last two days, you have grinded yourself against Kyle's dick, kissed and gotten yourself eaten out and fingered by Price, gotten your ass eaten and pussy fingered by Ghost and kissed and throat fucked by Soap.
Truly an interesting Tuesday.
It's not like you had never done those things before, but still, before them, it has always happened after a relationship was built and not in the order it happened that's for sure. 
Fooling around with Kyle was rejuvenating, you are not even old, but still, it felt like fooling around with your first boyfriend. Horny enough to need to feel each other but not ready still to face the vulnerability of getting naked in front of each other.
With Price, he made you feel like a fucking goddess. As if he should be the one thanking you for eating you out. You could hear him moan against your cunt and there was not a centimetre of skin he didn't kiss that night. Such a soft way to make love it almost didn't make sense how nasty he make out with your pussy that night.
Simon was the opposite like a professor teaching a bratty student their place. Any of these men could have you on your knees begging if they put their mind into it, but Simon made you want to act up. Pull his string and step on his nerves. He left you so vulnerable, completely naked and exposed to him, and still, there was not a second where you didn't feel safe.
And Johnny. Oh, sweet, sweet Johnny. You couldn't wait to get your hands on him again. Something about the way he whined your name when you had only barely touched him, the way his pupils almost got a heart shape when you kneel before him. 
But that little shit had a big mouth, not that he meant to cause harm, you know that. Unlike Gaz, the second little shit truly was striking for gold this morning. And now, he was sitting on the other side of the sofa, with your feet on his lap looking all innocent and completely unbothered by everything. 
So calm.
It bothered you.
Little shit doesn't deserve peace and calm.
Little shit deserves a kick on his balls.
But just when you are about to, you remember his face last night when he saw you enter the mess hall, looking terrified and like a wounded puppy. He looked so worried, and he hugged you so warmly. So the kick doesn't arrive, instead, you plant the heel of your foot right on his crotch forcing a grunt out of him.
“Easy, luv” He says rubbing your ankles.
“You deserve worse.” You say looking at his face as you keep pushing around.
“Rude, why do you say tha-at?” He asks half moaning the last word.
“You were going to rat me out this morning.” You answer beginning to move your foot up and down his growing erection.
He closes his eyes, resting his head on the back of the sofa. “You just look so delicious when you are flustered, doll. Couldn't help myself, would you forgive me?”
“I'm not sure yet, I'm still deciding.” You respond, pressing with a bit more force on his tip earning a moan from his throat.
“Take all the time you need.” He mumbles as he starts to move his hips against your feet.
Confusion floods your brain for a second, Ghost couldn't even kiss you this morning because he had given his word to Price but Gaz was happily humping your feet for his satisfaction. 
Did Price don't make him promise? No, that doesn't sound logical. Kyle was the one who started everything, Price must have made him promise more than everyone else. Kyle simply doesn't care about it. 
Price won't like that. 
If only Price got to know Gaz had broken his promise.
There it is, your kick on his balls. 
Figuratively.
For now.
You sit up, removing your feet momentarily earning a whine from Gaz at the loss. He looks at you with a pout on his face, cheeky bastard. It only lasts until he sees you undo his belt, and then a boyish smile appears on his face. 
He reclines with a smug smirk on his face and looks up to you as you get his growing boner free. You lick a thick strip of spit into your hand and start to stroke his dick slowly. You look at his face and he looks back delighted.
“If you treat me like this every time I bother you, I'm not stopping ever, luv” He says between whispered moans.
“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” You ask chuckling. 
“When my mouth is busy.” He admits, licking his bottom lip and leaving his mouth half open so moans can slip easily.
“It's that so?” You ask, and with your free hand you raise your t-shirt exposing your tits with a little bounce that Gaz doesn't miss by the way his dick twitch in your hand.
“Fuckin’ hell, luv.” He says beginning to move his head, but you pull his hair back and pressed your tit against his head which he gladly begins to suck onto making you groan softly. 
“Much better.” You sigh closing your eyes enjoying the feeling of his warm mouth against your nipple, you move your hand from his head down to his jaw caressing it and feeling the muscles of his jaw flex as he makes out with your boob. 
Slowly and shamelessly, Gaz's hand find its way down your back. He doesn't bother to play coy, and as soon as the hand reach your waist, it goes under your pants and your underwear grabbing a handful of your ass cheek making you whine. 
You press your thumb and index in his cheek, pressing between his teeth forcing him to open his mouth and say: “Play nice or I won't play with you, Garrick.” 
He smiles at you as much as he can with his cheeks pushes and sticks his tongues out to lick your nipple. “Yes, ma'am.” 
You could still kick him, literally. It would be faster and it'll probably erase the stupid smug smile from his face. But patience is a virtue.
So you shove his face against your boob again, and sigh when you feel his fingers travel down your lips. He moans when he feels your wetness just for your disgrace, the last thing you needed was to grow his ego. He slips them between your lips, gathering up the wet arousal pooling on your panties. He moves then to the front and begins to rub your clit with his fingertips. 
There is precum leaking from his tip, and you bring your fingers up to press your thumb against his slip and circle it, smearing his precum around it, making him moan. 
“Let's go to the bed, Kyle.” You half mumbles half moans.
“Let me just do it here, doll. Inaugurate the living room” He mumbles against your skin. You slap him on the back of his head and stand up.
“I'm planning on having most of my meals on this sofa, so get up.” You argue pulling his hand.
“If you are still hungry, I have something you could eat.” He jokes as he stands up, making you look at him with a grimace look on your face making him laugh.
“Don't ever say anything like that, Kyle. For god sake.” You say shaking your head as you walk your way to the room. You open the door and quickly take the rest of your clothes. You look back at Gaz who is looking at you a bit stunned and you chuckle. “I think it would make it a lot easier if you took off your clothes.”
He pulls his t-shirt from the back of his head throwing it somewhere, and gets rid of his clothes as he walks up to you. When he was almost bent over himself on the sofa, whining around your boob, it was easy to get confident and boss him around. Now, with both standing up and as he gets closer to you, you need to look up because of the size difference. He notices it too, how you start to speak softer and your expression is kinder. 
He chuckles to himself, positioning his hands under your arm and effortlessly throws you back on the bed, crawling over you instantly. You try to sit up, leaning on your elbows but a firm hand on your chest gets you flat on the bed soon. 
You look up to him and see him cock his head like a dog. “What?” You ask and it makes him smile with that fucking toothpaste ad smile. “There it is, I thought you lost your voice. You went silent so suddenly.” He teases.
“Oh, shut up, Kyle.” You say chuckling and pinch his nipple making him chuckle as well. For a second you stay chuckling, looking at each other and enjoying the opposite company. Until suddenly it feels a bit too intimate, and almost at the same time, you make eye contact feeling shy regardless of the lack of clothing. 
So you cup his face with both hands and pull him close kissing him on the lips. If he can’t see the affection in your eyes, he can't accuse you of anything. 
He caresses your hip, drawing circles with his thumb as he slowly reaches your mount and you slightly spread your legs involuntarily.
“Eager little thing.” He mumbles against your lips smiling, and you bite back: “I can feel you leaking onto my thighs, Kyle. Don't get cocky.”
He chuckles under his breath and without more preamble one of his finger finds his way inside your cunt as he uses the palm to rub your clit making you moan. Wet kisses travel down your throat when you move your hands to the back of his face, his finger’s movement becoming faster and not for long before a second one finds his way inside as well. You lower one of your hands to rub his erection against your tights, feeling the wet spot at his tip growing. 
Fuck does it feel good to be desired.
Little moans of your name leave Kyle's mouth against your neck giving you goosebumps and causing you to squirm in his hand needy of more. 
“Kyle… please” You moan throwing your head back.
“Not yet, doll. I wanna see you come as prettily as you did on the car again before I get my dick inside this little tight cunt.” He groans against your cheek.
You moan at his crude words arching your back, twisting your face to kiss him. Teeth clashing in the process, but too desperate to care. The band on your stomach snaps almost surprising you, and for a second you can hear your ears ring. Kyle’s hand is still rubbing your clit, but almost like a feather now helping you ride out your orgasm. 
You make eye contact with him, checking on you to see if you are alright and when he is satisfied he sits up, pulling you closer circling your legs around his slim waist and palms his erection; rubbing your clit with his tip. “Are you all right, luv? Need another second?”
“Fuck me already, Garrick” You tease propping yourself up on your elbows. 
Kyle smirks at you and slowly enters his dick stretching you out; he leans down closer to your face and you both moan on each other mouth as he enters. Slowly enters, and then draws back, just to enter a bit more. Little by little, as he kisses your mouth passionately. Your hands on his back slightly scratch his skin making him groan softly between moans, his tongue enters your mouth caressing your own.
This all started as a way to get Gaz in trouble, but honestly, you are starting to hope it doesn't work. Just so you have to try again. 
“Fuck, doll. Such a sweet lovely cunt” He mumbles, already losing his mind, punctuating each word with a roll of his hips. “Sucking me in so fucking nice.”
It shouldn't turn your own as much, such crude words, but you are not really thinking clearly and every word that leaves Gaz’s mouth is like a compliment to your core that makes you clench against his dick. 
“Do you like that, doll?” He asks against your neck dropping little open mouth kisses. “Hm? When I tell you how fucking godly you feel, luv?”
“Yes, fuck, yes” You moan back, curling your legs and pushing him closer, wanting him to go deeper as if you were not feeling him up to your cervix already.
His hand found its way down to your clit, circling it with his fingertip, making you meowl at the sudden extra stimulation. You can feel your orgasm approach, and you open your eyes to look at Kyles's face.
But when you open your eyes, the first thing you see is Price leaning against the doorframe; cigar in hand, a disapproving look on his face and a formidable hard erection on his pants. You lock eyes with him, a shameless smile creeping in and making Price shake his head with a similar smile on his face. 
The focus quickly moves back to Gaz when he starts to thrust more shallowly, rubbing your clit quickly. “Cum for me, please. I wanna feel you come around me, please, please, doll, please.” He moans against your skin, and completely ignoring Price's presence, you come undone in harmony with Gaz. 
Little black dots blur your vision for a second because of the surprising pleasure, almost missing the way Gaz moans your name we come undone following you. You are not sure if you are seeing or imagining when you see Price walk out of the room, and when you try to raise your head to see you come face to face with Gaz. “You okay, luv?” He asks with heavy breathing looking at your face and smiling.
You nod at him smiling, simmering in the afterglow of your orgasms. Only breaks away when something drops next to your head on the bed.
Gaz and you turn to look at Price who is now standing behind Gaz. “Shit.” Gaz mumbles trying to peel away from you, only for Price to press a hand on his back pushing him back against you making you both groan since Gaz is still inside you.
“No, no, please, don't stop on my behalf. I wouldn’t like to bother you.” He says dryly, no vestige of humour in his voice.
Gaz looks at you, making eye contact for a second until both of you turn to look at whatever it was that fell next to you, and when you see the lube bottle it finally sinks in what the two of you have just done. 
Both of you quickly try to look at him, kind of guilting the other to not get the short side of the stick. “Settle down you pair of brats.” Price says, he sits on the back of Gaz’s thighs, pressing him deeper making both of you softly moan again. He uncaps the bottle, pouring a fat blob of it in his fingers and pulling Gaz’s hair back making him arch his back once he throws the bottle back. “Unlike this brat, I’m not gonna fuck you, birdie. But the two of you put on such a show that has me in need of some… release.” He says while he caresses Gaz’s hole with his fingertips, getting through the muscle ring as he enunciates the last word.
“Shit, Captain…” Gaz moans, feeling your cunt clench when you feel his dick twitch back to life for a second time. “Don’t “Captain” me now, Kyle. What about your truce? Did any of my words get to your head or was all your blood down on your dick when I was talking to you?”
Gaz is not the only one getting the reprimand, a new cocktail of feelings is developing inside you. There are some hints of shame, the shame of getting caught mid-orgasm, the shame of Price barely acknowledging you at all, and the shame of feeling like you are intruding on whatever arrangement they had before you came into the picture. Again, the little self-aware thoughts that permanently reside in your mind appear, making you aware of the situation.
A loud moan from Gaz brings you out of it before they can materialise, and you come face to face to the fuck out face of Price after bottoming inside of Gaz. Having sex with Gaz was gentle, with more roll of hips and deep thrusts; but Price? He is obviously annoyed with the both of you, and his hard and fast thrusts are proof of it.
You can feel Gaz’s dick hardening inside you stretching you again. And even though he isn’t physically pulling in and out, Price's thrust forces his hips to roll against you giving you a delicious constant stimulus both inside and against your clit. That, joint with the fact that Gaz is moaning in such a filthy way against the skin of your neck quickly has you moaning in tandem with him. Bitting your lips to quiet them, feeling like they are not wanted, like you are just collateral damage to Price and Gaz's little get-together.
You force your eyes close when you feel Price look at you, he furrows his eyebrows when he notices you looking uncomfortable. Are you not enjoying it? Why do you turn away from him?
He switches his rhythm, caressing Gaz’s hips with a hand and bending down to cup your face with the other. He grazes your bottom lips freeing from your bite and drops his thumb inside your mouth making you lick it. He drops down to your ear to whisper: “Don't run from me, sweetheart. Not again, please.”
He raises his hand on Gaz's hips to hug him on his chest, pulling him close to him, and biting him on his shoulder. With what little space that earns Gaz, he begins to move between you and Price, earning a moan from everyone in the room. 
It is such a filthy scene, so porn-worth, still, there is such a palpable sense of care from everyone involved. Fuck, the moment they get bored of you it's going to hurt like a bitch. 
“I can't!” Gaz moans, the overstimulation getting the best of him. Poor boy getting his prostate destroyed and his dick milked at the same time. You can't barely manage yourself, you pity him. But again, that's what he gets for snitching. 
“Yes, you can. And you will.” Price moans against his neck, and at the same time he drags his hand down your body just to rub your clit causing a chain reaction when you clench for the reaction, causing Gaz to groan and clench as well. 
Is not much longer until you feel Gaz finish inside you for a second time, drooling against your shoulder skin while he hugs you needy of something to ground him. You quickly hug him back when you feel yourself spilling over the edge, and just a couple of seconds later Price finishes as well inside of Gaz. 
He drops himself over the two of you earning a groan from you for being squished by both men, but you only get a chuckle in return from the both of them. “At least like this, we know you aren’t going to go running again.” Gaz murmurs against your skin only for you to hear, warming your heart.
“The two of you are gonna give me a headache, I just know.” Price mumbles kissing his bite mark on Gaz’s shoulder while making eye contact with you. “Get washed, dressed and come down to the living room. We have a little meeting the five of us.” 
When he goes to sit up, you quickly grab his shirt pulling him close and ask softly. “Can we stay like this for a little more, please?” The neediness and clinginess being too hard to ignore.
Kyle and Price look at you as if you are the most precious thing on the whole planet and quickly nod going back to the weird body pile you were on. “Yeah, of course we can.”
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Heyaa, how are you? 💗
Hope you liked the new chapter, please please drop a comment if you like it or if there is any scenarios you would like me to include 💗
Thank you again for all the support, you guys are the best
Taglist: @pagesfalling @thevoidwriting @darkangel4121 @tf141glory @skyler-loves-rick-grimes @ghostlythots @readerofallthingss @onewattson6529 @mynameismothra @xinyiline @shadowtfpcod @infpt-zylith @renabear88 @lolliepopsicle @reap3erslov3 @tooloudarts @dontworryboutitokie @cassiecasluciluce @sodavrr @missmidnight-writes @anirok2
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doufudanshi · 18 days
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ON GHOSTS AND DEMONS: Wei Wuxian's "demonic" cultivation?
There are a few big misconceptions I have repeatedly seen in English-speaking fandom about things that are fundamental to the story of MDZS. One of them is this—
Wei Wuxian is not a demonic cultivator.
To prove this, let's take a deep dive into the original Chinese text of MDZS.
(Adapted from my original gdoc posted on Twitter on May 27, 2022. All translations my own unless otherwise stated.)
Demon vs. ghost
Let's start from the very basics. In addition to orthodox cultivation using spiritual energy and a golden core, there are two other forms of cultivation that are mentioned in the novel:
魔道 (mó dào), or “demon cultivation/path.”
鬼道 (guǐ dào), or “ghost cultivation/path.”
To be clear, 魔 mo "demons" and 鬼 gui "ghosts" (and thus their respective cultivation/paths) are not interchangeable because of the in-universe worldbuilding within MDZS. Using the characters in the term 妖魔鬼怪 "monsters," MXTX created four distinct categories of beings, each of which has a strict definition in the novel. From chapter 4 (jjwxc ch 13):
妖者非人之活物所化; 魔者生人所化; 鬼者死者所化; 怪者非人之死物所化。 Yāo (妖) are transformed from non-human living beings; mó (魔) are transformed from living people; guǐ (鬼) are transformed from the deceased; guài (怪) are transformed from non-human dead beings.
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And of course, WWX hoards all the ghost-type pokemon monsters at the Phoenix Mountain tournament, and he only exerts control over corpses, spirits, and the like (aka people who have already died). (As opposed to Xue Yang, who appears to have been actively trying to make 魔 "demons" out of living people with those "living corpses" of his, perhaps.) (And, ironically, in order to avoid showing necromancy / zombies on screen, CQL technically does show WWX practicing demon cultivation because everyone is "supposedly alive" even when they're corpses? Which is, funnily enough, far worse morally in the MDZS universe, lol.)
So, intuitively at least, we know that WWX must be practicing ghost cultivation—now let's look at some concrete examples from the book.
Running the numbers
1) 魔道 (mó dào) means “demon cultivation.” As such, it must use living humans.
魔道 appears one (1) time in the novel.
Yes, once. The only time it appears is in the term 魔道祖师 modao zushi, or the namesake of the novel, in chapter 2. This is a title the general public has given him through rumors:
魏无羡好歹也被人叫了这么多年无上邪尊啦、魔道祖师啦之类的称号,这种一看就知道不是什么好东西的阵法,他自然了如指掌。 Wei Wuxian wasn’t called titles like “The Evil Overlord,” “The Founder of Demon Cultivation,” and so on over the years by others for nothing—he knew these sorts of obviously shady formations like the back of his hand.
2) 鬼道 (guǐ dào) means “ghost cultivation.” As such, it must use dead humans. 
鬼道 appears 12 times in the novel.
Here is the first instance that 鬼道 appears, which I believe is the first time Wei Wuxian's method of cultivation is properly introduced. From chapter 3 (jjwxc ch 8):
蓝忘机 […] 对魏无羡修鬼道一事极不认可。 Lan Wangji […] had never approved of the fact that Wei Wuxian practiced ghost cultivation.
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Here's another quote from chapter 15 (jjwxc ch 71) for funsies:
蓝忘机看着他,似乎一眼就看出他只是随口敷衍,吸了一口气,道:“魏婴。” Lan Wangji looked at him as if he saw through his half-hearted bluff. He took in a breath, then said, “Wei Ying.” 他执拗地道:“鬼道损身,损心性。” He stubbornly continued, “Ghost cultivation harms one’s body, and harms one’s nature.”
3) 邪魔歪道 (xiemowaidao) means heretical path/immoral methods/evil practices/underhanded means/etc—e.g., lying, cheating, stealing, bribery, and so on.
It appears ~24 times in the novel.
I mention this last term because it is often used to refer to Wei Wuxian's cultivation, but as a pejorative. Every instance of 邪魔歪道 is said by or to quote someone looking down upon Wei Wuxian’s cultivation (Jin Zixun, Jin Ling, etc.) and referring to it derogatorily, whereas every instance of 鬼道 guidao/ghost dao is said by someone discussing it neutrally and/or factually (Lan Jingyi, Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian himself, random cultivators at discussion conferences, the narration, etc.). Here is a pertinent example with Jin Ling (derogatory) and Lan Jingyi (neutral) in chapter 9 (jjwxc ch 43):
金凌怒道:“是在谈论薛洋,我说的不对吗?薛洋干了什么?他是个禽兽不如的人渣,魏婴比他更让人恶心!什么叫‘不能一概而论’?这种邪魔歪道留在世上就是祸害,就是该统统都杀光,死光,灭绝!” “We are discussing Xue Yang,” Jin Ling said angrily. “Am I wrong? What did Xue Yang do? He’s scum that’s lower than a beast, and Wei Ying is even more disgusting than him! What do you mean ‘don’t make sweeping generalizations?’ As long as those practicing this kind of demoniac, heretical path are alive, they’ll continue to bring disaster. We should slaughter all of them, kill all of them, annihilate them once and for all!” 温宁动了动,魏无羡摆手示意他静止。只听蓝景仪也加入了,嚷道:“你发这么大火干什么?思追又没说魏无羡不该杀,他只是说修鬼道的也不一定全都是薛洋这种人,你有必要乱摔东西吗?那个我还没吃呢……” Wen Ning shuffled around. Wei Wuxian gestured at him to stay still, only to hear Lan Jingyi also cut in loudly, “Why are you getting so riled up? It’s not like Sizhui said Wei Wuxian shouldn’t have been killed. All he said was that people who practice ghost cultivation aren’t necessarily all like Xue Yang. Do you have to go around breaking things? I didn’t even get to eat any of that yet…”
Tl;dr—Wei Wuxian does not 修魔道 practice demon cultivation. When Wei Wuxian’s craft is discussed in a neutral and factual manner, it is referred to as 鬼道 ghost dao. 
In fact, Wei Wuxian’s imitators are also referred to explicitly as 鬼道修士 ghost cultivators.
魏无羡早就听说过,这些年来江澄到处抓疑似夺舍重生的鬼道修士,把这些人通通押回莲花坞严刑拷打。 Wei Wuxian had heard a while back that over the past few years, Jiang Cheng had gone around snatching any ghost cultivator suspected of being possessed or reborn, detaining them in Lotus Pier to interrogate them using torture.
So why the confusion?
Of course, there is the matter of the novel's title, which I will get into in a second. But the real issue is a matter of translation.
The idea that WWX uses "demonic cultivation" is a misconception in English-speaking fandom due to issues with the translation of terminology. Of note, EXR actually did translate 鬼道 guidao as "ghostly path" most of the time, though there were at least 3 instances of "demonic" and 1 instance of "dark," especially regarding the first few.
However, this misconception was perpetuated (and arguably worsened) by 7S's official translation, which not only mistranslated additional terms as "demonic cultivation/path" (at least in book 1), but also consistently mistranslated every instance of 鬼道 as "demonic cultivation/path."
So why is this book called 魔道祖师, commonly translated as "Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation?"
One possibility is one posed in Chinese-language meta online, which often cites that WWX himself is a sort of 魔 demon. While this may be true—after all, he can hear the voices of the dead—it doesn't quite explain the fact that the title sets him up to be the 祖师 or "founder."
My take is that this novel is very much concerned with hearsay vs. truth. This is one of the many monikers WWX is given by the public, who collectively view him as evil. (Also of note is that the non-cultivator public is not aware of all the nuances that cultivators learn re: distinctions between the 妖魔鬼怪 monsters.) In the quote from earlier, note that the first title we're given is actually 无上邪尊 “The Evil Overlord,” then 魔道祖师 "The Founder of Demon Cultivation." Like, what can that be other than MXTX telling us, "please take both of these with a HUGE grain of salt, lol."
(And not only the title, but the very first line—"魏无羡死了。" / "Wei Wuxian is dead."—is a lie.)
I think the title is genius, honestly. It intentionally makes readers come into the novel with preconceived notions that Wei Wuxian practices 魔道 demon cultivation and evil techniques—just like the public in the novel. What better way to tell a story warning about the dangers of how easy it is to fall for misinformation and jump to incorrect conclusions?
(Though, in our case, perhaps it worked a little too well.)
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mirohlayo · 1 month
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YOU STOLE IT
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( what happens when lando reunites with the girl who stole his first kiss ? )
warning : a bit of jealousy, fluff, lot of fluff
note : i love this okay. i won't write a part 2 so no requests please !!
word count : 4.9k
Lando hasn't always been very lucky in love. While he separated from a failed romantic relationship, he now finds himself alone, surrounded by his friends who are experiencing their perfect love, alongside their soulmates.
This doesn't bother him that much, since he himself admitted preferring to concentrate on his sporting career and thus become one of the best F1 drivers. No girlfriend yet.
But when he has to endure all day long the sweet words that other drivers address to their lovers, when he himself can feel love in the air, it becomes difficult not to think about starting a new chapter, this time here happy and healthy. A chapter that will fill him with happiness, as he has never been before.
Is this decision of not having enough time to find a girlfriend in order to concentrate on sport actually an excuse to hide the pain and despair that is gradually beginning to nestle in his heart?
He tries as best he can to reassure himself, to convince himself that he doesn't need this feeling of being completely in love and devoted to a girl. But when he continues to be the third wheel among the couples his friends form, he comes to desire a relationship more than anything else.
And every time, he can't help but think of this girl. This pretty girl he met during his summer vacation when he was 16. She was divinely beautiful, her shy but bubbly personality made Lando's heart capsize in a unique way, his whole being was alarmed just by hearing her name.
They both had a wonderful vacation, just the two of them together. During these two summer months, they did not let go of each other, spending every day alongside each other. They had become so close and complicit that they proclaimed themselves best friends from their first meeting during a kart race where Lando was racing for his life.
And since that day, they both developed deep feelings for each other. At first it was innocent. And it still is, in fact. They just thought it was a deep friendly connection, that they were just friendly soulmates. That those little stolen smiles and tactile touches were just childish, and just affectionate.
But it turned out that his feelings were ultimately more than that. More than just a friendly relationship. Lando found himself falling in love with you so hard, so passionately that he regretted not asking for your number when you two suddenly said goodbye.
You were his first love. And you still are. He thought that with time, you would eventually slip out of his head, that he would eventually forget you and move on, that it was just a big embarrassing crush from his youth but that he wouldn't think about it anymore growing up.
But that is absolutely not the case. He hasn't stopped thinking about you for 8 years. Every day, even before going to sleep, the only person he thinks about is you, that little girl he was madly in love with before.
He knows it, he maybe denies it a little, but deep down he realizes that he still has feelings for you. Perhaps less intense, less ardent, but there is no doubt that his romantic feelings will double in strength if he meets you again one day.
Of course, the old relationships, flirts, that he had before were sincere and true. He liked these few girls, that he was even happy in his last relationship. But for all that, it was by stopping this relationship and these flirts that he realized that everything brought him back to you. No matter what girl he meets, the only one who will forever remain deeply anchored in his heart is you.
He knows now that you two were more than friendly soulmates. Well, at least from his point of view. He was absolutely unsure about your feelings, which is why during these summer vacations, he preferred not to tell you anything for fear of destroying such a pure and important friendship in his eyes.
But again, he finds himself thinking about you, about how everything would be different with you. It was by going through all these different relationships with girls that he understood that he had never felt anything as powerful as with you. All these girls don't give him even a quarter of what he felt for you back then. So, how will this feeling change when he has the opportunity to meet you again?
The warm air of Saudi Arabia blows gently through the driver's curly hair. Free practice will begin in a few hours now, so Lando is using this time cooped up in the garage, surrounded by his teammate and his racing team, to discuss about the car.
“Hello Oscar!!” Lando's teammate is welcomed by his girlfriend, Lily, who smiles lovingly at him. The interview with the team is over, and she took the opportunity to spend some time with her boyfriend Oscar. The second driver comes to wrap his arms around his lover, before pressing a kiss to her forehead. Lando scoffs and rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. “Can you do this in private please? In addition to be the third wheel, I have nausea coming on.”
Oscar mocks his teammate, still holding Lily tightly in his arms. “Mate, it’s not my fault you’re a failure in love.” The Brit stops himself from hitting him, before putting on his McLaren cap. “Need I remind you that I’ve been in a relationship before?” He says to him with a completely proud look. “Couple who ended up in a failure, by the way.” He remarks, pointing at him.
“I really loved her…” The curly pauses. “It’s just that there is someone who- no, nothing, forget what I've said” He grumbles and withdraws into himself. Oscar frowns, Lily now concerned about the situation. “What?” She questions him gently.
Lando refuses to face this situation and simply shrugs his shoulders and ends up running away to join Zack further away. He can't say more, he can't talk about this girl who obsesses him. The two lovers look at each other confused by the British's behavior.
Zack smiled as he saw Lando walking towards him. “Are you already tired of feeling love in the air?” He says in order to tease him, which works. “Stop with that, I don’t care if I’m in a relationship or not.” What a lie. Zack knows his driver is lying, but he doesn't bother him more than that, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.
“So, how are things going at Ferrari?” Lando asks to quickly change the subject, not wanting to face another charade about his catastrophic dating situation. The two men then turn towards the Ferrari garage, where they can see the two drivers and the mechanics. "They look like they have a really good car, that's all I can tell you. But that doesn't mean-"
But it's too late, the British Mclaren driver no longer listens to his boss. As the Ferrari mechanics and strategists set to work, he saw among this small crowd Charles alongside a girl. At first glance, he thought it was his girlfriend. But upon closer observation, the woman, who is facing away, has a little shorter hair and is smaller in stature. And her hair color reminds him of her.
The girl he's been hopelessly in love with for 8 years now. But it can't be real, right? Why would you be here at the free practice sessions, and even more so accompanied by Charles Leclerc? His eyes must surely be hallucinating. But that silhouette from behind reminds him so much of you. But he tries to reassure himself. Or rather convince himself that there are so many brown girls in the paddock that he has confused you with someone else.
“Are you still listening to me or not?” Zack's serious voice rang in his ears. "Uh, yeah, sorry..." "You must need some time alone, I think" A mocking but concerned smile takes its place on Zack's face. “Yes, I think I need a little rest, excuse me” Lando smiles at him with difficulty before his boss goes further away.
The driver takes a deep breath. He can't help but look away at Charles and that girl. The more he looks, the more he feels like he's going back 8 years and seeing the girl he loves in front of him. He needs to know. He needs to be reassured and to be sure if this girl is really you.
And as if fate had heard it, the woman disappears from the garage, and seems to be heading to the paddock. So the British guy doesn't miss this chance and almost runs behind her to follow her. A few people give him confused and questioning looks, but he continues to pursue this dark-haired woman who hypnotizes him.
As he gets closer to you, his heart beats harder and harder. He feels like he's going to burst out of his chest and this feeling of stress eating away at him makes him want to vomit. Because he is realizing that he may have found his first love again. His eternal childhood crush.
That all those nights lost looking for you on social medias, trying to find your account and reconnect with you may not have been in vain. That all those nights lost thinking about you for a long time before falling asleep may not have been wasted in vain. That all these memories of you that he replays in his head finally make sense.
So, he goes for it without a second’s hesitation. "Excuse me ?" He speaks a little hesitantly, afraid of ending up with a woman who doesn't know him. But when the girl turns around, her brown hair flowing in the air, her eyes meeting his, Lando's heart skips several beats.
He finally found you.
The look of shock and surprise on your face mirrors Lando’s perfectly. Neither of you knows how to react, so you stay stuck like this for what seems like an eternity. But it is during this moment that the air suddenly seems changed. As if a connection, which once existed, was finally present again. As if an invisible link had finally reconnected between you, and united you for eternity. This change in atmosphere makes Lando's heart beat a little harder.
It seems unreal. So unreal that he thinks he's dreaming for a moment. For years, he never stopped thinking about you. To wonder what had become of you, what you looked like. And here you are now in front of him, more radiant than ever. This supernatural trance finally breaks when you decide to speak.
"Lando?!...Lando!!" You can't help but smile with all your teeth, a smile so sincere and strong. And oh God he suffered so much for the last eight years without being able to admire your magnificent smile. He adores it so much that he dreams of framing it in his memory forever. He knows how weak he becomes every time he gets the chance to admire your smile.
He can't help the big smile that comes over him as well. He feels so many emotions inside him that he feels like he's going to explode with happiness. "Y/n! Oh it's really you, I can't believe it!!" He can't even hide his joy and excitement, which makes you smile more, although it already seems impossible considering your cheeks already tired from just smiling.
“Me either, I feel like I’m in a dream” You admit, still a little surprised. “I didn’t think you were going to recognize me to be honest” You tell him, trying to contain your bomb of joy. “How could I not recognize you, when you are literally the most precious person to me?”
This simple sentence makes you blush violently, as you try to hide your embarrassment. “Uh- well it’s been 8 years since we last saw each other, so I doubt I’m still your favorite person” You laugh sweetly, and the sweet sound melts his heart. “So don’t doubt anymore, because you really are y/n” He addresses these few words to you while looking into yours.
And that's when he realizes how much you've changed. But changed in an incredibly beautiful way. You have kept this divine beauty which never fails to take his breath away. Your sweet facial features, that beautiful smile that he can't help but be obsessed with, and just simply your face that he could gaze at for hours and hours without ever getting tired of it.
You were already very beautiful when you were younger, when you were teenagers. But now you are infinitely more magnificent and resplendent. You look much more mature, and much more feminine. He has the impression of seeing an angel, a goddess before him. And that too has not changed, you remain for him the most beautiful woman he has ever met in his entire life.
The same goes for you. He's grown up so much, he's no longer the immature but adorable little Lando you loved so much before. Now he's a real man. He is more muscular, more virile but above all he has retained this eternal beauty and attractiveness. His beard makes him look a lot older too.
And then his hair. You teased him back then because he had trouble combing his hair. But these beautiful silky and shiny curls make you want and want to play with them, to caress them until they are messy enough for you to style them again.
“I see that my karting races have brought you to the wonderful world of Formula 1” The driver then says in order to hide the fact that he has been gazing at you for a few minutes now. You chuckle, before nodding. “Yeah, it must be said that a certain Lando Norris passed on his passion for motorsport to me” He lets out a little embarrassed laugh before turning his attention back to you.
"But Lando Norris was replaced by his opponent apparently. Bad luck." Lando's eyes land on the monegasque Ferrari driver who joins the conversation, right next to you. His tone turns colder as he stares at Charles. He can't help but feel a pang - or rather a big pang - of jealousy at the idea that you potentially replaced him with the monegasque driver.
Maybe your heart finally fell for Charles? Maybe in the end you always preferred him. He can't get these assumptions out of his head, because they haunt him now and just thinking about them makes him even more jealous. How come you're as close to Charles as you once were to Lando?
"Wow, what a reunion! Y/n told me how you were best friends before" Charles smiles kindly, and Lando seems surprised by his words. “Did she really tell you?” He asks suddenly. You clear your throat, embarrassed by what you told your friend about your relationship with the Brit.
"Yes, she told me so many things about you. That you were her favorite boy - and still are, that she loved spending time with you so much, that she really found you adorable and cute-” “Hey shut up!!” You beg Charles, placing the palm of your hand over his mouth.
Lando feels himself blush violently upon hearing Charles' words. Is this really true? “Do you think I’m cute ?” He teases you gently, but you feel even more embarrassed that you end up pressing your hands to your cheeks to hide the already terribly apparent red color.
"And that's not all, I still forgot lots and lots of things... anyway, I'll leave you, work awaits me again" Charles ends up patting the Mclaren driver on the shoulder, before to give you a smile and walk away.
A silence falls for a moment. The atmosphere has suddenly changed, it's more tense. But tense because you now know that a more than ambiguous and friendly feeling has settled between you. Tension paralyzes you as you fight the urge to jump into each other's arms.
Lando finally clears his throat before looking into your beautiful eyes. “How did you meet Charles?” “I’m a friend of his girlfriend, and she introduced us.” You respond simply, staring at him intently. Until you notice that his eyes no longer support your gaze but attack your lips.
It makes you think of that moment. And it makes him think of that moment too.
He stared intently at your pink lips. He wonders if he can. If he has the right. If he can taste them again. To move his lips on yours, to see if they are as soft as they seem.
To relive this moment. This moment, which is undoubtedly the most beautiful of his memories, and even more the most beautiful day of his life.
-
England was probably now one of your favorite destinations. Maybe because you found your confidant there, your best friend, this boy as adorable as he was immature who dreamed of being a Formula 1 driver. But all good things come to an end, and you already knew that destiny had to separate your paths. That these two months of vacation spent alongside Lando will only be distant but happy memories of your adolescence, and that you will perhaps end up watching him race on TV, being only a spectator and no longer his childhood best friend.
Lando knew it too. He knew that you had to return to your homeland, because after all England was only the destination your parents had chosen for the summer holidays. But his heart was breaking, suffocating at the idea of letting you go, when he had just accepted the fact that you were for him, potentially the woman of his life. You couldn't suppress the feeling of apprehension and sadness, as each minute that passed reminded you of how much time you would miss, passing by at a crazy speed.
Sitting on large rocks on the beach, you both admired the beautiful sunset that was falling on this last day of vacation. Tomorrow, a new chapter would begin. So you wanted to fully enjoy your last moments with your secret lover, because you might never meet him again. Silence reigned, peacefully, while the sound of the insolent waves lulled your ears with a bitter melody. You hoped you could slow down time, or rather extend it, because he seemed so stingy and selfish about giving you a little more to even exchange your unspoken thoughts.
Suddenly, you felt the boy's gaze on you, a gaze so intense that you had to turn your head away to look at him the same way. A mischievous smile appeared on his thin lips, as he opened his mouth to say a few words to you. “You promised me a gift if I won my kart race. I’m still waiting for it, Y/n.” His eyes filled with mischief and impatience, as you remembered the promise you had made to him. He had won his karting race earlier in the day, and you had promised him a gift if he managed to win it. However, you didn't think it would be so easy, since you had secretly chosen a rather... surprising gift.
A kiss. Not on his cheek, his forehead, or even his temple. No, it was more than just a childish, awkward kiss. A real, quick kiss on his lips. You thought about it because, although you sincerely believed in Lando's phenomenal abilities, you didn't think he would end up on the top step of the podium so easily and quickly. And now you're in trouble. Lando continues to stare at you mischievously, still impatient to discover your precious gift. Your brain was no longer able to function, your heart was speeding up. Did you really have to go for it? Take the plunge and place your lips on his?
Lando's impatience and waiting were more evident, while you were still panicking inside. And then, that's when you understood. That there was only him in your heart, and that there was only one chance. Only one life to live it to the fullest, without regretting anything. That worst case scenario, you'll go home the next day, forgetting this stupid promise and action. That in the end, this vacation, this boy, and this kiss, will remain engraved as the most beautiful adolescent chapter of your life, and that you will remember it with full joy and nostalgia.
Then the next second, Lando was surprised to feel a pair of lips on his. The kiss only lasted a short second, yet long enough for him to feel a bunch of different emotions. His heart felt like it was stopping, just as his brain was trying to properly process what had just happened. A powerful, strange but sweet feeling came over the young British man. He had just received his first kiss, and even more so from the girl he loved desperately. As you pulled back to look into his eyes, his looked back at you, confused. But because he understood.
He understood that this was love. That he was destined to remain faithful to you, for the rest of his life, because that kiss was the promise that his heart would belong to you forever.
-
It's been a little over a week now since you and Lando got together. And these last few days have been filled with nostalgia, reunions and above all strong and intense emotions. After the Jeddah race, Lando asked you to spend time together. Finally, he secretly wanted to insinuate that he wanted to spend every minute of his time by your side. Like before, like eight years ago.
He had finally found his childhood crush, the woman he considered the love of his life, and so he wasn't going to let her escape so easily. Especially since this reunion made him rekindle these deep feelings that he had not lost, but balked at because he had come to the conclusion that he will never find you again. However, talking to you again, spending time with you made him feel the love he had for you, but so much more intense, so much stronger and more powerful.
He's never felt like this before with any other girl, he's never seen himself in this state. Completely and obsessively in love, desperate to receive your attention and stay with you. Finding you was a sentimental blow to him, while he found himself lost forever in your heart. Finding you sealed his heart in your hands for eternity.
“It was a great day.” You hasten to say as a pretty smile takes place on your face. The driver looks at you lovingly, as he nods his head in approval. “Especially when I beat you at karting. It was the best moment of the day” He teases you and you stare at him. "I drove into the barrier because you hit my kart with yours. It doesn't count" You try to defend yourself.
“It doesn’t matter, I still won.” He adds as you sit side by side on the warm sand of the beach. “Still as narcissistic as back then” You roll your eyes but don’t hide that teasing smile on your face. “Still the same Lando Norris that you loved so much” He adds, his eyes scanning the horizon in the distance.
You swallow with difficulty, a lump in your throat. “Loved uh…” You whisper to yourself. Raising your head, you are greeted by the sunset. A pretty sunset, the same one that accompanied you on that last day of vacation eight years ago. You can't help but feel this feeling of nostalgia, of happiness.
It's exactly the same pretty frame, and the same boy by your side. It reminds you so much of that beautiful day long ago. Your heart warms at the thought. You finally found the man you love so much, and you couldn't be happier than right now.
The waves play the same melody, but this time the melody is more beautiful. Brighter and strangely romantic. As you gaze at the clouds in the distance, you feel Lando's intense gaze on you. Exactly the same look he gave you back then. Then, as if you were rehearsing the same scene, like a play that you are performing to perfection, you turn around to lock your gaze with his.
And there, that famous mischievous smile takes over his lips. Eight years later, he has the same look, this smile that changed everything. "You forgot your promise again, like back then. I'm still waiting for it, y/n" His words hit you like a bomb. Because they are exactly the same ones he said to you the day you made that stupid promise to him. This stupid gift.
And as if you weren't stupid enough, you secretly thought of the same gift. You internally promised yourself that you would give him the same kiss if he managed to beat you in karting. And he did it, as if he had put all his soul into the race to deserve this surprise gift from you. You feel helpless as the same panic takes hold of you. Everything seems so unreal. This sweet memory will finally happen again.
You see his eyes drop to your lips for a split second. But it's that split second that changes everything about you. Now you know it's for life. That you found the boy of your heart, that you will never leave him again, even if he doesn't feel the same way as you. That you only have one life to regret nothing, and this childhood kiss you have never regretted. So you never want to regret it.
You smile shyly, and without him being able to do anything, you crash your lips onto his. Lando's eyes widen, but he finally realizes what's happening. And he doesn't wait any longer to move his lips to yours. But this time the kiss is totally different. It is no longer innocent and shy like it used to be. It's no longer a little kiss between two teenagers who promised each other a gift.
No, this time it's much more romantic. More intense, deep and passionate. It's so comforting and sweet. This kiss is the fruit of the unconditional love he feels for you. So, he continues to deepen the kiss, his hand delicately cupping your cheek while his arm comes around your waist.
He licks your bottom lip with his tongue before nibbling it gently, letting you completely devote yourself to him. He continues to kiss you passionately, but yet it's not vulgar or crude. It's a soft and pleasant kiss, where only love is exchanged between your lips.
You finally broke the kiss by pulling back, a shy smile matching your pink cheeks perfectly. He opens his eyes, a silly smile on his lips before quickly pecking your lips again. You stay like that for a moment, admiring each other for a long time, love in your eyes.
"I'm so fucking in love with you, baby. Not since yesterday, not since last week, no. Since ages ago, for so long that I've stopped counting." You smile at him tenderly, your cheeks still pink. "Me too, Lando. I've loved you since we first met."
He smiles wider as his arms pull you a little closer to him. "You know, you're the girl who stole my first kiss. And you're also the only girl who managed to steal my heart. My heart has been yours for eight years, since the very moment you took me kissed." You can’t help but giggle, which melts Lando’s heart. “I thought you stopped counting.” He scratches the back of his neck, somewhat embarrassed. “Let’s just say I kept counting because I was desperate to know when I was going to find the woman I love.”
In the meantime he leaned over you, until you were lying on the soft sand. “Every day you were gone was like a bullet in my chest.” “What a romantic, I’m almost going to get emotional” You tease, a mocking laugh coming from you. “Still as teasing as before” He adds, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
"For eight years, you were the only girl who never stopped staying anchored in my thoughts. From our first kiss, my heart already belonged to you, and it will continue to be yours for the rest of my life. I never wanted any other girl but you, and I waited so long for you that I'll never let you go. I love you so much, sweetheart” His words warm your heart, as you gently caress his face with your thumbs. “I’m completely in love with you too, Lan.” And in these last words, he rushes to kiss you again.
You feel like eight years ago, like the two idiots in love who stole their first kiss. Nothing has changed except the reality that reminds you that your love is bound for eternity, and that it will continue to exist because it is deeper and more passionate every day. That this is the present moment, and that your hearts are finally filled with happiness to have been able to find their other half, after so many years of desperately continuing to live without the presence of the other.
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aylish91 · 1 year
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New chapter incoming!!
Sea Of Hope Chapter 8
Previous Next SOH Master Grandmaster
This masterful piece of art was done by @aoi-kanna as a commission. They are truly talented and I appreciate all the hard work they put into making this for me. Go check them out, they are absolutely wonderful!!!
Story below or AO3 above.
~~~
While Axe checked you over, Edge grabbed Red by the back of the neck and stormed down the main hatch, loudly yelling at the rest of the crew to mind their own business as they scurried out of his way. For the most part, Red's protests went unheard as he was dragged down the steep steps. Blue, on the other hand, had hesitantly approached Papyrus, whispering something before they too turned and headed past the hatch, disappearing through a pair of doors into the upper levels of the ship. 
The clearing of a throat had you tensing and pressing closer to Axe. Black had once again gotten closer than you were comfortable with, standing only a couple paces away. “AS HEARTWARMING AS THIS IS, IT IS QUICKLY BECOMING LATE AND THE LADY STILL NEEDS ADEQUATE DRESS. MY BROTHER’S COAT IS HARDLY A FITTING SUBSTITUTE.”  
Rus chuckled beside him. However, when he made to comment, a look from Black had him looking down instead. 
Axe narrowed his sockets. “Don’t know where you’re planning on get’n somethin. Ain’t exactly swimmin in extras and you’ve refused to mend mine so I could give it to her.”  
Black scoffed. “YOU FAILED TO MENTION IT WAS FOR YOUR MARKED. YOU HAVE ALSO YET TO COMPLETE THE TASK I ASKED OF YOU. I DID NOT SEE THE POINT IN TURNING IN YOUR FAVOR WHEN MY OWN HAD BEEN UNMET.” 
“Been busy.” 
“AS WE’VE ALL.” 
Something shifted in the air, both of their eyelights brightening. Rus glared, moving closer to his brother. It took Crooks placing a hand on Axe’s shoulder for the two to back down. 
“Petty bastard.” 
“WHEN IT SUITS ME.” With a flourish of a hand and a half step back, he indicated the direction of the doors, continuing to meet Axe’s gaze. “NOW, I BELIEVE WE SHOULD ATTEMPT TO FIND SOMETHING MORE SUITABLE UNTIL NEXT WE MAKE PORT. SURELY YOU CAN AGREE IT WOULD BE IN EVERYONE’S BEST INTEREST.”  
“Fine, but we’re not leadin’.” You could hear the creak of Axe’s teeth. 
“OF COURSE.” With a tight turn, Black nodded, marching forward with Rus trailing behind with a wink. "AS YOU WISH." 
Axe refused to move at first, tugging his empty socket and prompting a sighing Crooks to nudge you both. "I Know You Don’t Like Him, But He Is Fair.” 
“Bastard never does anything fer free.” 
“And Yet, He Has A Point.”  
Neither you nor Axe was reassured but allowed him to guide you forward regardless. Crewmen brave enough to linger eyed your group with various degrees of emotion. When a dog monster growled, another was quick to slap the back of their head, nervously hunching at a glare from both of your skeleton friends. You tried not to show your fear or your growing limp as you passed, hoping Rus' long coat hid what you couldn’t. It didn't seem like a good idea to show weakness around others. The watchful eyes and aggressive postures spoke volumes to your already heightened nerves. Entering the ship did nothing to ease your discomfort.  
It felt cramped and pressing despite having more than enough space and light. Unlike the previous ship, several lanterns lit the expanse leaving no ominous shadows or darkened areas. You could easily see all the doors lining the walls as well as the beautifully carved and decorated windowed doors marking the end of the hall. Rus waited near the last door on the left.  
It was calm and warm, but you couldn’t shake off the feelings of danger. 
“Ya c’n go inside Darlin. Milord’s wait’n.” Rus stood to the side, motioning you inside the now open door. 
You looked to your companions. While Axe kept his eyelight on Rus, Crooks’ soft smile and nod gave you enough of a boost to cautiously cross the threshold. It smelled of lavender tinted with something you couldn’t quite place, the overall size relatively small. What looked like a narrow modified canopy bed connected to the wall was on your right. In front of you, under a single window, was a rather lovely desk intricately carved with polished knobs. To your immediate left was an open decorative chest shoved in the corner. Everything was of exquisite taste and quality, from the bedding and carvings on the furniture to the upholstery on the chair at the desk. The few trinkets left out were of fine gold or silver with glistening jewels. 
You jumped when the door closed behind you. Axe nor Crooks had made it inside. It had your stomach rolling with nerves. You did not anticipate having the others closed out. Having Black now between you and the only exit made it worse. His eyelights were too bright. 
Didn’t Rus call him a lord...? 
Your chest tightened at his approach, making sure to lower your gaze. 
“TRUE TO MY WORD, THAT HORROR’S GARMENT HAS BEEN MENDED. HAD I KNOWN IT WAS FOR SOMETHING LIKE THIS, I NEVER WOULD HAVE HELD ONTO IT.” In his hands was a large linen shirt, neatly folded and dark in color. Holding it out, he offered it to you. “PUT IT ON. I WILL ADJUST IT AS NEEDED AFTER.” 
You froze, intently focusing on the simple article of cloth. Was he expecting you to do it here and now? In front of him? Wasn’t it bad enough you were laid bare in front of all those on the deck, or stars, when you pressed yourself against Blue? At least Axe had good reason to see you. Multiple! To willingly undress now in the presence of a man other than your husband...  
By the angel, what would Axe think of all this? 
Black must have noticed your silent panicked uncertainty when you didn’t immediately take it. Clearing his throat, something in his tone changed. “I SHALL, OF COURSE, REFRAIN FROM LOOKING WHILE YOU DO SO. YOU MAY LEAVE MY BROTHER’S COAT ON THE CHAIR WHEN YOU ARE READY.” 
It was hard not to squirm. While that was greatly appreciated, it still felt uncomfortable. Could you trust his word? You hardly knew the man. Perhaps things may have felt different if the room wasn’t quite so stifling or the door hadn’t been shut so suddenly. 
Luckily, heavy thumps in the hall distracted Black enough for him to hand you the garment himself, squinting at the door behind him. He was just about to speak again when another set of thumps sounded, this time shaking the door. Growling, he finally turned when the muffled voices following the noise got angrier. 
You really didn’t want to do this right now. Not here. Not with all the uncertainties surrounding you.  
Taking a slow breath in, you let it out. The sooner you changed, the sooner you could be rid of these unsettling feelings. With unsteady fingers twitching against the fabric as you took one last glance at Black’s back. 
One more breath. 
The sound of your rattling bones was louder without the security of the coat. Placing it on the chair, you did your best to quickly dress.  
The feeling of fabric against your bones was surprisingly comforting as you pulled it over your head. True to Axe’s size, the shirt almost went to your knees. It was so large the fabric pooled on your much smaller frame and reminded you of the nightgowns you used to wear back at the manor. 
If only it wasn’t so short. 
Though your more private areas were covered, it was not good for a lady to show so much… leg. You tugged at the hem, the sleeves threatening to engulf your hands.  
“I’m dressed, my lord.” 
A calculated breath was your only answer before his eyelights found you, fuzzy with a slight warble. You had to second guess if you had seen them correctly, for the next moment they were back to their bright and sharp orbs. Getting closer, they traveled over you as he hummed, the heel of his boots clicking as he circled. If you had hair, it would have stood on end at the subtle brush of his hand against your back. 
“AS I EXPECTED.” 
You startled, yelping when he came around to lightly grip your hips. Instinctively, your hands came to your chest from the forwardness, sockets wide. He paid no mind, eyelights intent on the bunched fabric. He only let go to pull a satin rope from his pocket. 
You squeaked again when he reached around you to wrap it around your waist. 
“MUCH BETTER. HOWEVER," His gloved hands touched your elbows, slowly moving up your arms to grasp your hands for inspection. “YOUR MAGIC. IT IS MUCH TOO THIN…” He turned them over. “Hmmmmm. Knowing Him…” 
Your chest clenched. He was close enough you could feel his ambient heat and wisps of breath. 
Before Black could say or do anything else, his door nearly burst off its hinges, a very aggravated Axe forcing it open. Black pulled you into him with a snarl, eyelights vanishing with the click of his teeth. Stuck in a headlock was a disgruntled Rus, resigned to the hold around his neck. 
You didn’t know if you could physically handle any more stress.  
“BY THE ANGEL, YOU WILL REPLACE THAT LOCK IF YOU HAVE BROKEN IT!” 
Axe’s voice was low, grin tight as he took in the scene. “Don’t appreciate the closed door, Black. Hell ya think yer doin’ in here?” 
Black placed you behind him, grumbling a growl. “AS I STATED EARLIER, I HAVE GIVEN HER SOMETHING TO ADEQUATELY COVER HERSELF UNTIL WE CAN PROCURE SOMETHING MORE FITTING.”  
Axe narrowed his sockets at Black’s squared shoulders. For a split second, you could see the red orb of his eyelight flick over the man in front of you before it focused on you.  
“Sure that's all ya were doin’?” 
The fabric of Black’s gloves creaked. “IF YOU MUST KNOW, I WAS INSPECTING HER MAGIC FLOW. I’M NO EXPERT, BUT EVEN I CAN TELL IT’S RUNNING LOW. A MORE IMPORTANT QUESTION WOULD BE, WHY HAVEN’T YOU—” 
“I’ve been doin’ exactly what I need ta be. Don’t need ta explain myself either.” Rus stumbled into the room when Axe unceremoniously released him to motion to you. “Now, if yer done?” 
With a snarl, Black pointed a finger. “NOW SEE HERE YOU–” 
Instinctually, you reached out, stopping just before Black’s arm. “My lord, I!” You faltered at his abrupt attention, pulling back to dip your head in respect. “I thank you for your kindness, but I should return to my lord husband before any more misunderstandings occur.” 
His eyelights stuttered. “I, I BEG YOUR PARDON?” 
There was a beat of awkward silence before Axe broke into heavy laughter, the loudest and deepest you’ve heard from him. It was enough to warm your cheeks as he beckoned you out and away from the room. Black gaped, slack-jawed and sputtering as you passed. You were already being guided onto the deck by the time he was able to call out one last time from his doorway. 
“AXE! YOU WILL… THAT… YOU WILL EXPLAIN YOURSELF!” 
Axe only laughed harder, closing the doors behind you. 
The sun had mostly set by the time you stepped out into the humid sea air. You would have done anything in the past to be able to look up, out, and around but Axe was swift in guiding you down the main hatch. You didn’t want to linger longer than necessary anyway. 
You didn’t have Rus’s coat to hide under. 
You were grateful for the darkness once you were under. The lanterns were farther spread, some empty of light altogether. It helped ease your mind against the wandering eyes. Most gathered under the brightest lamps, playing cards at makeshift tables, drinking, and socializing while others lounged in hammocks hanging interspersed between the canons. While some watched you pass, Axe was surprisingly good at slipping through the darkest areas to avoid the unwanted attention.  
The closer you got to the front of the ship, the fewer people there were until you came upon barrels and crates stacked near and around an area quartered off by familiar heavy sheets. You could even recognize the stack you and Blue had hidden next to, the sheet on that side still halfway pulled down. Axe was kind enough to hold the flap for you to enter. 
Finally, you were able to relax the tension out of your shoulders and pained joints. You wanted to climb back into the hammock and rest your aching pelvis, maybe snuggle against Axe and his warmth. The way he moved about though had you gingerly sitting on his stool, setting it upright from where it had been knocked over. 
You wondered when that had occurred. What happened after you had been taken? 
... 
A quiet curse had you looking back at Axe as he re-fastened the makeshift wall. There were a few more rips in it than you remembered. If he had any sewing supplies, you would have to mend them. It was the least you could do as thanks. 
You let out a slow breath, peering down at your clenched fists. They were cold and stiff on your lap. Black had been interested in them. The lot of them had been interested in general, but he had seemed so focused. 
Your voice was soft, hesitant as you summoned the courage to speak. “Axe? I have so many questions, but I’m afraid… I don’t know if I’m allowed to ask.” 
Axe chuckled. “Don’t gotta be afraid with me, Dove. It’s good ta ask questions around here. The more ya know the better, good or bad. Don’t let anyone tell ya otherwise.” 
You picked at the hem of the shirt, smoothing it down as much as you could. “Is that true?" Axe simply grunted. Collecting yourself, you forced yourself to ask the questions burning your mind. "What is a Banthos? What does it mean to be one? And what did Black mean when he said my magic was too thin? I don’t have magic. I’m not… I’m not even a monster.” 
It was hard not to flinch when, from your peripherals, you saw him stop. His voice had become more serious but thankfully still soft.  
“The hell yer not. Listen, I don’t know what you’ve been told, where ya come from, or what ya been through. But you’re as much of a monster as the rest of us. You’re made of magic and hope just like me.” He came over to place your hand in his scarred one, taking a knee to look directly into your sockets. “We’re the same. Dust and all. It don’t matter about anything else. As fer your magic,” he rubbed his face with a frustrated sigh, “let me worry about that. Just know ya got it and I’m gonna make damn sure ta get it where it needs ta be.” 
You didn’t know what to say to that, but it sent a comforting feeling to your chest. He was always so warm. It reminded you of your mother.  
Nodding, you were about to ask about your first question when footsteps interrupted you. Axe stood, moving between you and the flap.  
“AXE, IT IS GETTING LATE. I HAVE TAKEN THE LIBERTY OF PREPARING SANS’ ROOM FOR THE LITTLE MISS. I HOPE YOU HAVEN’T FORGOTTEN.”  
Axe only slightly relaxed at the sound of Papyrus’ voice, not moving but calling out to the other skeleton. “I can take her when we’re ready. Just got a few–” he bristled when Papyrus entered and smiled down at you, hand twitching at his side –“more things ta take care of.” 
“AND WHAT MIGHT THAT BE SO I MAY HELP?” When Axe only grumbled, Papyrus took it upon himself to continue. “WELL, WHILE YOU FIGURE THINGS OUT, I SHALL MAKE SURE TO GET HER SAFELY TO HER NEW LODGINGS.” 
You both tensed. “Papyrus. Paps. At least let things settle before ya drag er away. You saw Sans. I don’t trust him.” 
Papyrus looked a little sheepish at the accusation. “I UNDERSTAND YOUR CONCERN, BUT I HAVE FAITH THAT THIS WILL WORK. I MYSELF WILL KEEP AN EYE ON THINGS IF I MUST. He Means Well. NOT THAT, THAT IS AN EXCUSE FOR HIS TERRIBLE BEHAVIOR.” He came forward to place a hand on Axe’s shoulder, humble and pleading. “WON’T YOU AT LEAST TRUST ME?” 
You couldn’t place the look that crossed Axe’s face from the question, the red orb of his eyelight quaking until his free hand brushed the edges of his empty socket. “That’s cheat’n…” There was a heaviness to the silence.  
When Axe’s shoulders sagged, Papyrus gave him back his space. “All WILL BE WELL. I’M SURE OF IT.” 
You were uncertain as to what you needed to do, but before you could stand, Axe nudged you back down. With the reluctance of a stubborn cat, he then went about gathering items he had deemed yours, going so far as draping his favored blanket over your shoulders. When all was said and done, you were left with a surprisingly intricate box full of puzzles, Axe’s blanket, and an affectionate nuzzle to your neck.  
It was with a heavy heart and a glowing face that you eventually followed Papyrus back out into the darkness. 
You did your best to keep up with his long strides, missing Axe’s purposely slowed gait. You could feel the grinding strain on your pelvis and lower joints with each step. You focused on the clack of your feet to keep your mind off the aching. Papyrus was already several steps ahead of you when he got to the steps.  
Blessedly, he turned to wait for you. 
It was embarrassing how out of breath you had become from such a short distance, especially when you knew you didn’t technically need to breathe. You were even more so when Papyrus cocked his head to look you over with a contemplative hum. 
His smile was kind. “MY APOLOGIES MISS. I KNEW YOU WERE IN ROUGH SHAPE, BUT I HADN’T REALIZED…” He glanced up the steps. “PERHAPS IT WOULD BE BETTER FOR ME TO HELP.” 
Without so much as a warning, he picked you up and draped you across both of his arms. You almost dropped your box, squeaking in surprise as he ascended to the deck. Your mind and tongue had stopped working from the suddenness. Though Axe had carried you once before and had moved you a few times, you didn’t quite know what to think of this stranger picking you up so nonchalantly. It was as if it was the most normal thing in the world for him, smile just as polite and kind as before. 
With him carrying you, it took little time to cross the rest of the way back through the double doors and down to the end of the hall. Standing in front of the windowed doors, you were only jostled a little when he turned the knob. He used his boot to kick it open the rest of the way with a bang, making you flinch when the glass shook precariously. 
You thought you saw a flash of blue, but when you looked, there was nothing there but a railed raised platform with an extravagant-looking bed, windows lining the entirety of the back wall. 
You shuddered. It smelled overwhelmingly of snow and cold rain. 
Scrunching his nasal ridge, Papyrus walked around a heavy round table with a scattering of papers and a lantern. Stepping onto the platform, he carefully set you down, turning to furiously rip the blankets off the bed to ball and fling them across the room with a fwump. 
“FORGIVE MY IDIOT OF A BROTHER. I WILL BE HAVING A TALK WITH HIM ABOUT APPROPRIATE BEHAVIOR LATER. FOR NOW, I’M AFRAID THIS WILL HAVE TO DO. AT LEAST THE BED IS EXCEPTIONALLY COMFORTABLE.” He put his hand down to pat the mattress. “IT IS A GIMBAL BED, MADE WITH LARGER MONSTERS IN MIND SO YOU WILL HAVE PLENTY OF SPACE AND WON’T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT THE TIPPING OF THE SHIP.” 
When you didn’t move, he gently ushered you to sit before making his way to the windows. It was so dark now that the light from the lamp effectively turned them into mirrors. You were grateful, too afraid to look through them. To your relief, Papyrus closed the many curtains for each once. Once done, he gently took your box and stood at the end of the bed, bowing slightly from the waist. 
“I WOULD STAY TO HELP YOU SETTLE, BUT I UNFORTUNATELY HAVE OTHER DUTIES I NEED TO TAKE CARE OF AT THIS TIME. BUT DO NOT FEAR, I WILL MAKE SURE SOMEONE WILL BE BY IN THE MORNING TO BRING YOU SOME TEA AND BREAKFAST AND TO WELCOME YOU.” Walking away, he stopped to place your box on the table and extinguish the lantern. “SLEEP WELL MISS.”  
With a wave, he picked up the bundle of discarded blankets and walked out the door, closing it behind him. 
… 
It was frightening, alone in the dark.
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futureplayboibunnie · 8 months
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Aphrodesiacs Pt.8
Miguel O’Hara x fem! spidey! reader
You and Miguel O’Hara were bitten by the same spider…what could possibly happen?
*sigh* let me just feed my starving children. consider this my girl dinner to you all. fully feeding u this time. the day has finally come (in more ways than one)
NSFW AS ALWAYS (but pls extra caution on this one, i got carried away and i don’t want to spoil the surprise) 18+
also i was gonna finish this series at 10 chapters but pls lmk if u want more!
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It was far too late to function. You were pulling on many mental threads as you sprawled out on your bed.Sighing into the empty, overly spacious air of your room didn't alleviate anything, you were still wearing Miguel's shirt.
The streetlights dimmed into your room, the warm glow offering nothing to help fix this crack that resided in you. Tossing and turning wasn't helping, your limbs fluctuating from rigid to limp whenever you thought about Miguel. Your sheets were hurled to the floor and your half-naked form contorted at every angle on the bed, nothing was comfortable and you couldn't sleep. Your mind buzzed awake from the lightning shooting down your thighs whenever you inhaled, his shirt was so big on you but it smelled so good, and the fact that he let you just have it.
It smelled like him, his cologne, his natural ambiance, his musk. You rubbed your naked thighs together.
You couldn't help but sigh breathlessly and throw your head back into the pillow, whining at how stimulated you were just by inhaling. For fucks sake. Since when were you this pathetic? You almost wanted to bite into your pillow out of sheer aggression. Today was a cluster fuck of emotions, your lips still felt the tingle of him, your tongue was against his enough that you could still feel him exploring when he wasn't even there. It was like a ghostly touch, tracing against the most sensitive parts of your body. You still couldn't believe that he had finally kissed you, he had finally given in to such a disastrous impulse that he so constantly warned you about. Your pussy fluttered at the fact you affected him enough to go against everything he believed in, that you meant that much to him. The pulse under your heated skin sent your body into an unshakable overdrive.
Miguel tasted like testosterone, anger, and sex. The way you were just pressed against him had slick forming between your thighs. You were so ready for him. You've always been ready for him. The way he gave you a tiny fraction of what he was going to do- what he was prepared to do...well before Peter had to cockblock you into oblivion. He was going to fuck you on the sink like an animal. Hot and Heavy. But then Miguel had to go back into his old ways.
Your throat was raw, and constantly groaning in frustration was a default setting at this point but it was getting worse and worse. You draped your forearm over your eyes, involuntarily arching your back against the mattress and spreading your legs as your stomach lurched. Your pussy would drown in his cum. That seemed to be the last straw. The canines of your teeth dug into your bottom lip at a depth that pierced the blushed tenderness of your lips, tiny holes turned into splits as blood pooled inside of your mouth and slightly dribbled to the outskirts of your mouth and chin.
“Fuck…” You winced out, more pained by the thought of Miguel leaving you unfulfilled than the pulsating of your lips bitten raw.
-
Miguel was aimless, ice doused his heated veins as he swung from building to building. He attempted to convince himself that he was in your universe for any other reason he could get, he was particularly good at lying to himself but in this case, it wasn't. The most honest thought he's had in months is knowing that he wants you.
Miguel knew where he needed to be right now. With you. He hated how he left you in the bathroom, part of him wanted to fuck you while anyone watched, just to show them who you belonged to. But he could never do that.
He groaned as he whacked through the air, his fingers smashing against his neck to get rid of the mask. He felt claustrophobic like you were subconsciously taking away his ability to breathe. It left a bitter taste in his mouth. You had steel in your spine and that only fueled the flames of desire that were lit in him long ago. The roaring fire in your eyes every time you laid into him made him hard as ever, no woman has ever been stupid enough to question him- and then there was you. At HQ you were the perfect picture of cool elegance and competence, you weren't as fun-loving as the others and nowadays Miguel felt like he had pulled that out of you. Miguel frowned at the thought. Your presence evoked an unwanted heat in his gut and a leaking cock to go with it, and he didn't even fucking like you, he just had to deal with you. But now, after all this, you were the name he'd call in the middle of the night. His entitled, needy, girl. He couldn't take two steps without Jess or Lyla gushing to him about how lovely you were
It was galling.
Maybe he could marry you. Fuck you full of his kid.
Jesus Christ.
Miguel squashed the thought with a grimace and a shake of his head. With a grunt he landed on the side of your apartment building, using his claws to dig into the brick, subtIty was never his play but in this certain situation, it was completely off the board. He had no idea what he was going to say to you or if he was going to see you at all he just needed to be near you. He wanted to see those eyes darken in pleasure again, if that's all he could get from a kiss, he couldn't even begin to wrap his head around what would happen when he was actually in you. He knew he drew near when the scent of you clouded his brain, he quickly hung from the side of the building until he got to a large window, it was cracked open slightly. Windswept hair made tufts of his hair impair his vision, Miguel peeked his face to get a glance at the window it was your bedroom window.
You were sat on the edge of the bed, sweet face buried in your hands, hair tumbling down your shoulders, contemplating something for a second before standing up.
He could smell how wet you were. Maybe one day he could pour wine all over you, cum on you and then taste it off your sweet body.
He bit the bullet. He raised a pointer finger and tapped his talon on the glass. The moonlight outside kissed your face perfectly, but he did notice some red around your lips- he didn't know what it was.
His mouth dried as his gawk fell to what you were wearing- you were still wearing his shirt. Fuck
You hummed in irritation, thinking your sex-filled mind was making you hear things. Your heart sank at the wave of shock when your gaze accidentally flitted to your window. Then you saw it. Your tongue ground into your jaw, waves of shock reaching every corner of your already fire-tinged body- but now every single cell was about to sizzle into thin air. All this time, it felt like you were both dancing with your hands tied. Your pulse pounded in your ears when you saw him, eyes wide and concerned but ultimately fucking elated. It was like God answered your prayers just this once. You stood up from sitting, a random burst of adrenaline licking at your knuckles, you were practically shaking and Miguel was more than happy with that.
The sight of Miguel's face could make you cream: that black hair, olive skin, taut muscles, and brooding attitude made for complete devastation in a spider suit. You watched like a dumbfounded idiot as Miguel pried the window open and crawled through, he wormed into your room and stood up tall just taking a beat to drink you in.
Damn.
He thought you looked fucking incredible in a bikini, but here you were, standing there with a vacant doe-eyed look wearing nothing but his shirt. He doesn't think he's ever been this aroused just looking at someone.
Miguel raised an eyebrow to see blood on your lips, trailing a little down to your chin as you blinked up at him. He inched closer and raised his hand, his fingers slightly cupping your chin to meet his scorching, worried gaze.
“What happened here?” He asked softly, his breath was warm and honeyed, a stark contrast to the Miguel you've always known. That cool bleak demeanour cracked for a split second.
“You.” Leaning into his touch proved to be easy, you melted into his fingertips, lips parted and eyes needy as the man you've been fantasizing about for so long was touching you again, but it felt more meaningful than the last. Miguel's eyes were the clearest you've ever seen, a tinge of red gleaming against the burgundy of the outer rim. The way you uttered that word sent a shudder spiraling through him, you were both affecting each other so much- that first kiss only fueled the ever-increasing wildfire.
“What are you doing to me…?” Miguel whispered. He was asking himself that question too: what were you doing to him? He's driven himself crazy, utterly mad over this dance of death he called morality and ethics. You were holding your breath, scared that if you gave into the natural urge to breathe, you'd moan out his name.
“You never finished telling me all the things you wanted to do to me.”
“If I told you all of the things I wanted to do to you...we'd be sitting here all weekend talking and then I'll never be able to show you exactly what's been running through my head every hour of every day, the reason why I can’t sleep, why I can’t fuck my fist without thinking of you.” Miguel inched closer and cupped your face with both hands, smoothing out your soft skin, your palms fell onto his hands too.Just touching each other softly. Miguel was still afraid. He was afraid of hurting you, and losing himself, he's already not in control when it comes to you. You sighed out at his vulgar words and you were ready to get on your knees.
You stood in silence, gawking at each other intensely. You scoffed to yourself, teeth clamping onto your bottom lip as the corners of your mouth upturned to a smirk.
“That would be quite inconvenient.”
“Yes, it would carinõ.” Miguel hummed lowly, definitely understanding the effect the pet name had on you. Miguel thought your snarkiness would be the death of him by now but here you are, being so compliant. His thumb toyed with your bottom lip, teasing it into your mouth. Your eyes grew wider as his thumb massaged your tongue For easier access, you just stuck your tongue out, licking and sucking on it every so often. He had dreamed about this day but he never fully thought what it would really be like once he gave in.
Miguel's pretty features were locked in a state of vacant yet concentrated drunken smugness. Anger played at his brows, creasing the olive skin around it, his stare was piercing, looking at you as if you were both a diety that needed to be worshipped and a dirty slut that was begging to be pounded- he sighed at the thought, he was beginning to slowly lean in. Your free hand went to the fangs that he was baring, your fingers prodded at the sharp point, slurring completely drunk off of his presence.
“These are spikey...I love it.”
“This is so wrong.” He muttered against your lips, feeling the explicable sensation of hot and heavy lust sparking between your lip.
“Tell me how wrong it is then.” You nipped at his bottom lip, making his eyes flutter closed.
That was it.
A sickening crunch ripped inside of him.
A chain loose of its hinges.
His muscles coiled inside of him, reaching their apex, and now his restraint was seeping between his fingers until there was nothing left in his hands...except you.
Shock, hope, fear, elation, and uncertainty all mingled together on his face until they were indistinguishable from each other. He blinked for a second and then his eyes mixed both black and red, midnight specks in the violent pool of red. He was angry and so hard. Frustration overrode his guilty conscious. Fury carved harsh lines across Miguel's face, hardening his jaw and turning his cheekbones into slashes of tension by the moonlight. His eyes simmered with a slow-burning desire, the type that snuck up and annihilated him before he knew it.
Miguel had always been intimidating, but at that moment, he looked like the devil himself had left hell to exact his retribution. Arousal leaked out of you at that look. The air sharped with dense tension and desire, enough that it finally yanked him out of his frozen stupor. Time suspended for a brief, agonizing moment, just long enough for your breath to become his.
Miguel yanked your arm away from him and curled it behind your back, your soft gasp making drool form at the back of his throat. His other hand gripped your chin and at that moment he saw thunder in your eyes. “I'd rather fuck you instead.” Uncertainty evaporated from his voice, leaving nothing but satin and smoke in its wake.
His mouth shattered against yours, finding its rightful place in your mouth. Home. You thought his last kiss was good, but this was ferocity at its most unhinged. You had succumbed to the skillful assault on your senses.
Your body was molded to his, all hard muscles under the holographic suit. Your mouth was like a pure shot of heroin- the forbidden fruit that he was restraining himself for was now all his to devour, his to savor. The first kiss was passionate but impulsive. This... was sticky and wet, saliva mingling with saliva, this was primal and addicting. Miguel's worries melted into nothing, for now, he was fucking delighted that your body instinctively curved against his, seeking more contact like a horny virgin. His lips left yours to breathe, a rough calloused breath shot out of his throat, as his mouth fell to your jaw, kissing and sucking so fucking hard, desperate to mark you.
“Miguel…” You moaned out in failed protest, the word rolled like heaven off of your tongue. You were made to moan his name.
“I'm going to wreck this tight cunt..”
“Listen, listen...I'm bad. I'm a bad girl. Now I'm making you bad..” You whispered in his ear, yelping a little when he bit down hard on the skin of your jaw. You felt the indents of his teeth.
“Carinõ...I'm not a good man, you know that.” His eyes wildly found yours again, his face hardening like granite, his steely resolve thrumming in the air around you.
You begged to differ, but you didn't want to think about that right now.
Miguel shoved you on the bed, manhandling you by being completely careless of where you landed.
“Miguel!” You whined like a kicked bitch in heat, it felt so humid in your room, you scrambled to get your- well, his- top off. Miguel stood up straight and gawked at you from the foot of your bed, waiting like a hungry predator. You discarded the shirt so you were completely naked on your bed, shining and glimmering in the pale moonlight, skin as soft as fresh silk. Your chest rose and fell with every rapid breath, Miguel's eyes were clouded in the dark hellfire that is desperation when you spread your legs. You propped yourself up on your elbows, tilting your chin down to glare at him with impossibly sizzling fuck me eyes. Miguel's heartbeat pummeled to the tip of his leaking cock at the sight of you in such an impossibly filthy position- free for him to use, fuck and bite however he pleases. He glanced at your hands and your fingers were ripping up the sheets under you, spotlighting the tension and swirling heat in your cunt. He was like a kid in a candy store, your pussy was leaking, the clear sticky liquid running down your thighs.
“Every time you speak, this is what happens.” Your tone was dead serious and the expression on your face was stony- you were definitely not toying with him now. You were just too eager for that.
Miguel's eye twitched. Without warning, he grabbed your ankles and pulled them to the edge of the bed, you gasped softly when you felt your legs dangle out, Miguel was between your thighs, glaring down at you with a demanding instinct.
“Sit up straight.” He ordered coldly, you felt a new wave of wetness form between your folds at his words.
You did what you were told, eyes piercing against his, challenging each other but it was obvious who had the upper hand.
Oh…the things Miguel could do to you in this position. The things he wanted to do, x-rated scenarios reeled through his head. You blinked up at him with doe eyes, wide and needy. His needy, desperate girl. A hint of a wicked smile played on his lips. Miguel smashed a few buttons on his watch and his holographic suit disintegrated off. Your eyes scanned his golden olive skin, his body was sculpted with such perfection you expected to find Michelagelo's signature embossed on his V-line. Broad shoulders. Muscled chest. A faint dusting of black hair that tapered down to…
Oh fuck.
His cock was staring at you right in the face, jutting out, huge and hard- 11 inches for sure at least. It curved to the side, a thick vein bulging out of the underside, an angry red tip leaking pre-cum. The mere idea sent twin frissons of apprehension and anticipation spiraling down the deepest pit of your stomach. You gawked blankly at his dick, mouth open wide and eyes outspread. It felt like you'd never even seen one before. Well, you had never seen his before.
That fucking face, that gape. He was going to frame it in his office and fuck his fist under the desk staring at it.
There was no way he'd fit. It would be impossible.
“Oh my…God.” You mumbled under your breath
When you finally dragged your gaze back up to his, Miguel's eyes were already laser-focused on you, dark and smoldering with a banked heat that you were sure could crumble you to dust. His hand gripped your cheeks, ensuring that your eyes were on him without hesitation. Miguel smiled crookedly when he spotted the slivers of saliva hanging from your bottom lip, quite literally drooling over his cock absentmindedly. He loved how dumb he’s got you already.
"Aww querida...I always seem to think about my own suffering, yet I neglect yours the most.” His tone had slivers of mockery in it, and tears pricked in your eyes.
“Yes. You do. So just fuck me already.” You scowled, pretty eyebrows tensing and creasing when he planned on stretching out such a momentous occasion. If anything it should be you punishing him for the amount of times he had denied you of the very thing that kept your soul alive.
Hypocritical son of a bitch.
Miguel harshly let go of your face and slapped your cheek with his dick, your face whipped to the side due to the sheer force of such an obscene thing- he definitely caught your attention now, undermining his authority never sat well and it regurgitated back onto you tenfold. You blinked up at him, the surprise hitting you like a brick and making you choke out the breath you forgot you were holding, your cheek heated red as the stickiness smeared slightly. You were about to internally combust, for such vulgarity to feel that good.
"All you do is fucking talk.” Miguel snarled at you gruffly, the force behind it sounded very real.
“I'm prepping you, getting you all wet so you can at least take about half of me.” You wanted to kick him in the face and make his fangs stick into the walls of his gums and snap them. He really thought you wouldn't be able to take him? Well, a few minutes ago you thought it would be quite frankly impossible to take his sheer size but now since he doubted you...you thought otherwise, wildly determined didn't even begin to cover it.
You cocked a condescending eyebrow at his incredibly smug statement. “I'm wet enough! We were practically designed to fuck each o-!“
Miguel cut you off, waiting for the opportunity when your mouth was wide enough to just shove his cock in. And he did just that. He grinned and let out a low rumbling chuckle at your pathetic and dumb demeanor, who knew a woman who viewed herself so highly could end up being so damn bendy for someone else. Your eyes pricked glassy mirrorball tears, he almost saw his own smug reflection in them, that beautiful surprised look on your face needed to be painted and sold for millions. Your mouth was so warm, so wet, bucketfuls of spit spilling on his cock as you sucked, glaring him right in the pupils of his midnight rings. Miguel's lips flipped to a pretty smile as he watched you struggle to take him all. Your tongue was flat on his tip but what was really jarring was the barely there touches you'd flick onto the sensitive slit, causing him to be unable to repress his animalistic grunt. He could've cum right then and there just from how your mouth felt alone, but he had to endure- he couldn't be known for lasting 5 seconds.
“Yes, we were. You're exactly right.” He gritted through his grinding jaw.
This was exactly what you dreamed of, the spark that lit the flames of desire that licked at the very essence of your soul. It just felt so right. He was so thick and he tasted so good, his natural musk clouded your nostrils, and your throat flexed to take him that much more. One more jerk and he was sure he was going to cum.
Woah, easy. Easy.
Miguel's eyes shot open as you hummed around him appreciatively.
He really thought you couldn't do it. You'd show him that he meant jack shit. There was something so heady about the idea of making a man like Miguel fall to your mercy. You could either bring him over the edge or keep him there forever.
You slid him down your throat a little more. He put his fist in your hair to jerk your head around but you scratched and slapped them away earning nothing but a breathless, accusing scoff from him.
“You'll choke.” It was a half-assed warning and a half-assed patronizing joke. A hint of wariness crept into his voice when you finally gripped the base of his cock with two hands. The sensation tinged his nerve endings in heat, saliva escaping the corners of his mouth.
You didn't care, your eyes tangled with his as if you were saying ‘You think I can't? Watch me.’ You slid him all down your throat, hitting the very back of it. You whimpered tasting the salty sweetness before you swirled your tongue from side to side, bobbing your head up and down, suckling softly at first before fucking him hard with your tongue. Jesus Christ, his mind was exploding with static heat- he was trying to conceal his chest from heaving but he couldn't.
Fuck.
This was most definitely the best blowjob he's ever had, you had this twist-and-jerk technique that was truly remarkable. Miguel raised his eyebrow, dumbfounded by your skill but then a wicked smile slashed through that.
What a pretty little slut. His pretty little slut.
“You feel so good. You're...fuck. You're fucking perfect for me...” Miguel moaned drunkenly, unable to control his lips from moving. He's never been this sensitive before, every barely there touch elicited a new wave of pleasure. Pain and pleasure blurred into one at this point. The compliment made you wetter if that was even a possibility.
“I'm gonna...Mierda...g'na...I'm gn'a cum.” He could barely string together a sentence, a coil snapped inside of him, the coil that has been tightening ever since he met you.
Miguel pulled his cock out of your mouth and jerked himself off, cumming on your chest, creating a pearl necklace with his hot salty cum, dripping all down your tits to your stomach. His face creased into a desperate wince as he groaned from the deep chasms of his gut, a rumble as he released all over you. Your gasp was helpless and he wanted to hear that specific sound all night, it turned into his favorite music. This was the most gratifying and fulfilling orgasm he's ever had. He opened his eyes after they screwed shut, peeking through to see the mess he made on his fist and your body...and there you were looking like a sculpture, something akin to a Greek goddess, leaning back slightly, hair touselled and messy, skin glowing. He could finish again at the sight alone. His sex drive was insatiable.
“Still think I'm in need of prepping?” You chided, embarrassingly pleased with yourself at proving him wrong.
You didn't have any time to lose, your mouth was wrapped around him again.
You retracted a hand from the base of his leaking cock and let them slide down your thighs before your nimble fingers edged to your hot cunt. Your index finger found your swollen clit, rubbing it for a single second, feeling a small fraction of delicious pain before his glare caught you red-handed. Miguel's blood reared at the blurry sight, he gripped your hair again with his white hot fist and pulled you off of his cock, drooling-invisible strings of cum and spit connecting you together. He took a moment to admire you at your most beautiful, heated cheeks, swollen pink lips dribbling into a lazy smile
Miguel grew indignant in a matter of nanoseconds.
“No. Don't you dare think about touching. You've done more than enough yourself.” He grunted like a boar. He used your hair like a leash and threw you back flat on the bed, breasts bouncing at the action. You pouted as he crawled on top of you, his heavy weight being a welcome invite to your body, his cock slapped against your stomach and you could feel his skin turn wet due to your drenched mound. “I said don't give me that look.” He said seethingly. The feeling of his skin on yours was making you intensely needy. You wrapped your legs around his waist, locking yourself in your new favorite position: under him.
“Please...Miguel. I need you, I'm desperate for you, I'm tired of waiting for you, I've been ready for you for so long…” A desperate plea ripped away from your throat in a choked sob. Miguel had never seen your eyes emanate such honesty and sincerity, glowing in the pale moonlight- you weren't making a glib or clippy joke about this. It was as honest as you could get.
Miguel's eyes darkened as your words fell on his ears, slurring at your incessant whining. “Mi nina necesitada…” He hummed under his breath. “So cockdrunk already?”
You had been dying to let him roam your body freely, doing whatever he pleased, a breathy moan escaped from your parted lips when his apathetic hand traced the curves of your body, goosebumps strangely patterning your heated skin. Miguel crashed his lips against yours again, his fangs snagging against your mouth and his teeth clinking against yours. It was messy and sloppy, spit against spit, tongue against tongue. His hands palmed your tits, feeling them before his talons pinched and rolled your already-sensitive nipples. Pulling and playing with them, snarling and grinning crookedly against your lips as he swallowed your moans.
“I'm gonna cum..” You breathed softly but Miguel was not having it. “Miguel...if you keep doing that I'm gonna cum.” You warned him but it landed on deaf ears.
"You're gonna cum on my cock.” He corrected you unkindly before chuckling lowly. “My sweet sensitive cunt.”
Before you knew it, Miguel gritted his teeth, you didn't have time to do anything more than gasp before his length slid into you so easily, hitting that spot that made him realize you were right: you were designed to fit each other, designed to fuck each other
“Fuck...Oh my god...” You moaned out loudly.
He filled you up to the hilt with only one thrust. You only had a few seconds to adust before one hand was on your neck and the other gripped your hip and slammed you up and down on his cock, hard, while he drove down inside of you. Each thrust was more brutal than the last, you were getting embarrassed at the whines and moans, and attempting to conceal them with your fist wasn't helpful either. You threw your head back into the mattress, exposing more skin on your neck for his palm to grip.
“Be loud. Let me hear you.” He demanded coolly, his steely resolve shattering just from watching your swollen lips turn into a full-blown gape. You gave in to his instruction and let yourself moan without shame. Miguel manhandled you and threw you about sloppily again and again, harder and faster until your knees buckled.
His fangs ground together, threatening to shatter the pearly whites he was known for as he watched your body contort. Fuck, you looked so beautiful. He saw his cock bulge under the skin of your stomach and it was just another lightning bolt that was the thunderstorm between you two. You whined when he grabbed your knees and pushed them into your chest, smooshing your breasts together, allowing him better access to pump you full.
Miguel knew you were on birth control but he couldn't help but feel disappointed about it. He disguised it as a throwaway thought
“You can't even begin to understand how bad I've wanted you.” Your tongue slipped out, reiterating the same thing as always: your desperation.
“Tell me I'm the best you ever had.” He growled brutally, staring down at you, watching your hair nuzzle into the pillow. Your nails dug crescents into his back, probably enough to draw blood if you angled it another way.
"You're the best I've ever had!” You screamed back, begging to finish. “Please...you're the best I've ever had.” You cried out, eyes welling up with tears, streaking down your warm face making Miguel even more aroused. Miguel felt so dirty and depraved, but that's the kind of man he was. He wasn't a good man at all.
You clung onto him for dear life as he rutted in and out violently, you threw your head back into the pillow, his talons were sure to leave indents on your neck, and you drooled at the idea. Your body felt nothing more than a mass of sensation and nerve as you matched his rhythm and grinding your swollen clit up against him: like you were made for each other. It was like you were sucking the soul out of him.
“You need to get used to being fucked like this because I'm not leaving you alone for the entire weekend Hermosa.” Miguel declared with a snarl and it felt like the world was tipped on its axis. “My pretty little cumslut, eh?”
That's all it took.
One promise.
One last final rub of your clit.
Your mouth fell open to a silent scream, but then Miguel glared at you- instructing you to be loud. So you did. Your pussy gushed onto him and your throat ripped out a pornographic moan, the sound echoed into every nook and cranny of your being- it was an out-of-body experience, both a complete cleansing and a complete dirtying of the person you've become. You've never cum that hard, ever. It was so powerful and all-consuming that it drowned out every sound other than Miguel's heavy breathing. He was still pounding into you, chasing his second release of the night. His dick twitched when he saw your face look so blissed out, stars burst behind his eyes as his dick pulsated. Miguel threw his head back and spurted inside of you, before pulling out, spurting again, and then plugging his dick back in.
You were both panting messes, sweat rolling off of your skin as if you had just finished a marathon. Your faces were inches away from each other, gawking at each other vacantly, eyes wide and glittering with that after-sex aura. Silence clawed into the atmosphere, all you could do was stare at each other, silently saying ‘I can't believe we just did that’
Miguel leaned in and planted a soft kiss on your lips. “I meant what I said. I'm not letting you leave” The contrast between his gentle kiss and his filthy words made you feel limp.
-
i feel like this was lowkey self serve bc all i want to do is give miguel head LOL .
i also just have to say another thank u to all the people who love this series! i’m so overwhelmed by the idea that you guys like the way i write miguel. thank u so much! i love u
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hellfire--cult · 8 months
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Edit of Eddie: Sofiiel
Stripper!Eddie x Shy!Fem!Reader
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 (End)
WC: 14k
⚠️ +18 MDNI, Stripper!Eddie, nervousness, fluff, self doubt, soft touches, mentions of nausea, signs of anxiety, angst (i won't spoil any more of the chapter)
Plot: You thought you were cursed with your shyness, but after one embarrassing night, you decide it's time to change, and you believe someone might be able to help with that.
Summary: Was it all how it seemed? Whatever doubt you had, you find the answer to, and it is time to move forward.
A/N: And we reached the end... I never thought this story would blow up they way it did, but I am so grateful for every single one of you that always reblogged, commented, messaged me to know when the next chapter would be out... I cannot thank you enough. This story is very dear to me, and I already have a few requests for these characters! Hope you all still follow me through the next stories I will post!
You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!
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PART 8 - FINALE
Robin Buckley was in cloud nine at the moment. 
After a successful date on Friday, she had spent the entire weekend with Vickie, consuming their love with their first kiss, their first time together, and realizing that they both were stupid idiots who didn’t make a move because they were too scared to do so. 
So now, on Sunday morning she finally is back in her apartment, singing in the shower as she washes her body from the weekend’s activities. She finally got the girl she had been desiring ever since she met her. Vickie was not far behind, but Vickie had confessed to Robin that it would be her first official time dating a woman. Robin was more than glad to be the first one to do so.
When she got out, she was still humming, starting to dress herself for the day, and then her phone dings, making her grab it and smile widely as she reads the notification. Vickie had messaged her ‘Miss you already :(‘ and Robin couldn’t help but giggle at it and jump up and down in her excitement. She cannot wait to tell the girls, to tell you, to tell Steve. She had disconnected herself from her phone the whole weekend because she just wanted to spend it with Vickie, entirely. 
She whistled as she stepped in her boots, replying to Vickie as she did, saying she missed her too and it was the truth. They were entering the Honeymoon phase already, and she cannot wait to go on that ride. She went into the messages she has with you, and instantly messaged you.
“Hey, you up?” After a few minutes, there was another response.
“Yeah, I am.” Robin smiled at that and replied back to you as excitement ran through her veins.
“I’m going up and we can go get a cup of coffee!” She didn’t even wait for your response, she just got up from her bed and grabbed her wallet to pull some bills out and put them back in her pocket. She walked out of the room, shaking her wet hair from side to side to dry it a bit and have a little bit of movement. 
How were you going to react? Are you going to be happy? You probably will, and she can’t wait to tell you everything Vickie and her had done through the weekend, except for some details that remain private. She can’t wait to tell you how they got together, how the confessions occurred, and what they ate on Friday night. She was rocking back and forth on her heels as she went to pick you up. She knew that she had to pick you up to get the coffee so that you would move. Many times you declined because you were lazy, but Robin always made you get up from the couch, and you didn’t have a say in it.
When she reached your floor, she walked towards your door whistling softly. She knocked on your door in a happy tune.
“Wakey wakey!” She says through the door for you to hear. She licked her lips as she waited for you, still rocking back and forth on her heels. Some seconds passed making Robin become impatient and she started knocking on the door again. “Come on, let’s go!” 
“Alright, alright!” She hears your muffled voice on the other side, unlocking the door and you get out of your apartment through a small gap in between the door and the frame. Robin got confused at that because you didn’t open your door entirely, but she dismissed it with a shrug. What confused her even more was what you were wearing.
“Well hello to you too, cranky.” Robin says and you yawn, shaking your head at her and that’s when Robin noticed the bags under your eyes, and how red they looked. “You alright?”
“Yeah, I’m just tired, didn’t sleep an inch last night.” You say to her and she hummed, still worried about how you were looking as the both of you started walking to the elevator. You had make up, and when you didn’t sleep you always put some concealer on after learning how to properly use it. Maybe you just didn’t have the time or energy to do it this morning. Once the metal doors closed, Robin talked again.
“I think I haven’t seen that shirt or those pants in ages.” She says and you look down at yourself, a gulp passing your throat as you fix the ponytail you were wearing.
“I threw everything else in the washer.” Was your short reply, and Robin’s heart accelerated because something didn’t feel right, but she was hoping it was just a wrong hunch, just something that she was overthinking probably. “You didn’t message me all weekend.” 
And that was the queue for Robin to smile widely as she started talking nonstop about her date. You were faintly smiling at her as she told you how Vickie had tripped when walking in the street with her and she took the opportunity to hold onto her hand. She told you how it was Vickie the one that confessed in the diner that she felt something else for her, besides friendship.
“And then, outside of the diner, I just grabbed her and kissed her. I was just so impatient, maybe too anxious, but I couldn’t help myself! She just looked so pretty under the neon lights…” She continues saying as you both slowly walk down the street. Your face was down towards the floor all the time as if you were watching your steps. 
“Doesn’t explain why you didn’t talk to me all weekend Robs.” You try to let out a giggle, but it comes out as a small huff, which Robin barely noticed as her eyes lit up in excitement.
“I– well, she kind of invited me to her apartment… Afterwards.” Robin was blushing now, rubbing the back of her neck, not noticing the pained expression that had crossed your features. 
“That’s… Great Robs, so you just spent Saturday at Vickie’s?” You ask to keep the conversation going as a man is walking your way. Robin didn’t notice how you traded places with her, putting yourself closer to the street as the man passed between the building and Robin.
“Yeah… I just wanted to be with her, you know? And yesterday we could talk more calmly about what we were, where we were standing.” She explains, her whole face red as the memories keep flashing in Robin’s mind, blissfulness all over her body.
“And where are you both standing?” You ask her, now looking towards the ground again. Robin’s chest filled with excitement and giddiness again, twirling in her place as she walked with you.
“We’re dating!” Robin smiles dumbly and completely dazed as you two keep walking. She really can’t wait to tell the other girls, wait till they know that she and Vickie finally made it work. She can’t wait to tell Steve that he can eat his words, telling her she had no balls to tell Vickie what she felt… Though, Robin believes Steve was doing it to give her some sort of boost, and impulse.
“I am so happy for you Robs.” You try to sound enthusiastic, you really are trying because you are happy. You are happy for your friend. 
But everything else was just numb. 
“Thank you! Okay we’re here! Should we get our table on the corner like we always do–” Your eyes drift up and into the coffee shop. The green eyed young man was at the counter, already waving your way because for the past month you have been getting coffee in this family business. His name is Adam.
And your eyes looked down at the floor again.
“I– I prefer to go back home Robs, I don’t feel all that well…” You excuse yourself and Robin turns to look at you with an eyebrow raised up in worry.
“Are you okay? Shit, you should have told me you felt sick…” Now Robin felt guilty for not giving you the chance to tell her that you were feeling like this. She acted out of selfishness on wanting to tell everything to you that she didn’t think about you or your feelings at the moment. You look at her and you shake your head desperately not wanting her to feel guilty.
“Yeah, just tired…” Robin nods at that because she can see the bags under your eyes, she doesn’t know why you were tired. You probably ended up playing games till late like you always did. 
“Alright, then let's get the coffee to go.” She says, giving one step inside the coffee shop. Your nervous hand reaches quickly to her sleeve, making her stop in her tracks and give you a puzzled look.
“Um… There’s another coffee shop, called Sunflower!” You say to her, almost desperately, only getting a confused frown from Robin’s part.
“It’s like– five more blocks away! Let’s just get coffee here and go back.” Robin turns and you let go of her sleeve, standing still in your place as you look down to the floor. She felt that you weren’t following her, so she turned around again, examining you. A weird feeling sat in her stomach, something along the lines of dread, of worry. She waited for you to talk, waited for you to say the words she was fearing of hearing again from you, words that she was happy you finally let go of, or— that’s what Robin thought.
“U-Um… Can you get my order?”
Those words that you only said when you couldn’t buy something because a man was at the cash register. Milkshakes you asked Robin to buy for you because the big man behind the counter had winked at you. Coffees that Robin had to drive and get for you because no female baristas were working at any close coffee shops. Robin’s eyes widened as she slowly turned to see the puzzled look of Adam, looking at you both as he took the order from an old man that was sitting in a corner. 
“Please… tell me that you didn’t just ask me that.” Robin’s eyes looked for yours but you were looking down at the floor, maybe in shame, maybe in fear, maybe in complete embarrassment, maybe in sorrow, maybe in despair. Robin’s heart crumbled in her chest as she pulled you away from the coffee shop’s entrance, grabbing you by your hand and dragging you a couple of steps away.
“Robin– You’re hurting me–” Robin let go of your hand and made a sharp turn with a frown to her eyebrows, tears prickling in her eyes as she shook her head at you. 
“What happened!?” She asks you and you gulp heavily, shaking your head at her. Robin wanted answers, she needed them, and you were not giving them to her. What happened this weekend for you to act like this again? What happened to you? What made you go back to the starting line?
“N-Nothing, I don’t know what you mean–” You started but you could already see Robin’s hair almost frizzing up in anger, or in confusion.
“Don’t play fucking dumb with me! The clothes!? The lack of makeup!? Your hair in a loose ponytail and you didn’t even comb it!” Robin was breathing heavily now as your eyes didn’t focus on her face any longer, just looking to the side as tears started filling them. “And now, you couldn’t even LOOK at the guy you’ve been ordering coffee from for the past month!” 
“I just feel weird today, that’s all.” Was your short answer, and Robin tilted her head at you, her brain trying to work but she didn’t want to lose you. She didn’t want to lose the you from the last two months, and she was feeling like your brain shut that person out. She remembers how you didn’t let her see inside your apartment at all, and she straightened up, turning to start walking back to the complex. “Robin?”
“Come on.” Was her only command. You were confused as you followed her, walking the streets at a quick pace, making your breathing grow heavy. Once you got to your complex, you both got inside the elevator and you let out a sigh but then your eyes widened when Robin only pressed the button of your floor.
“Aren’t you going home?” You ask, nerves already creeping up in your body, a cold sweat invading your fingertips, and you felt yourself growing more desperate the sound of passing each floor dinged inside the elevator. “Robs, I feel sick, really–”
“Shut the fuck up.” You jumped at her words. She never cussed at you, she actually almost never did in any circumstance. The metal doors opened, and your eyes widened, walking quickly to reach your door before Robin could catch you, but she was quick to grab onto the handle of your door, looking at you.
“Um… It’s a mess inside–”
“Open the door.” You blinked at her and you slowly shook your head. She can’t see it. She can’t see what you did. You will just disappoint her. You know it. Robin’s eyebrow twitched and she took a deep breath in, trying to calm herself. “Open the door.” 
She wasn’t going to leave, and you knew that. There was no escaping this confrontation, and you weren’t going to win it. You could run away, but Robin would sit and wait for you to come back and open the door. She wasn’t going to leave. She wasn’t going to give up on you, on this, even if you had already given up. You took your keys out of your pocket with a trembling hand, and Robin held your hand and helped you guide it into the keyhole, opening the door.
Robin walked in, turning the light on. She looked around and everything seemed to look the exact same, except… The trash bags that sat outside your room, piled up one next to the other. Robin’s eyebrows twitched, fear settling in her chest as she walked towards one of the bags. You closed the door behind you and your eyes widened when Robin bent down in one of the bags.
“What the fuck…” You hear her say and that’s when your mind started spiraling again. Everything was coming back to you as she slowly raised up again, and she turned to look at you with the purple dress in her hands. “Why… Why are all your clothes in trash bags?”
“I–I was doing some… Marie Condo cleaning thing.” You lied, but it came out as a tremble, your eyes scanning the dress in Robin’s hands, memories flashing over your eyes and your brain was just telling you how delusional you were being. How stupid you were for trying to be someone like that. You knew you were never that, you knew it, and you weren’t going to ever be. 
“Cleaning my fucking ass!” Robin yelled, making you jump again. Why was she so mad? Why isn’t she happy that you went back to your old self? Why is she acting this way with you? “You made so much progress! So much! Why are you going back!?” 
“I– I don’t understand what you’re saying, I never changed–” 
“You fucking did! You changed into who you actually are! You changed into someone that knows what they like, knows what they want! So what is all this shit!?” Robin motioned to all of the trash bags that contained your new stuff, and you felt your heart shrinking at each word that came out of her mouth. You shook your head at her as your tears started to burn your eyes.
“This is who I am. The things in the trash bags were just costumes Robin, they are something I am not!” Robin couldn’t believe what she was hearing. There must be a mistake, everything was fine on friday night, everything was incredible, you sounded so happy, you sounded and looked like you were glowing. She didn’t ask why you looked like that, but she feels like she might know why. She has a feeling inside of her that tells her that is right.
“This is not who you are! THIS is who you shaped yourself to be in order to feel safe!” You flinched at the word ‘shape’. You didn’t shape yourself, you didn’t put this skin to protect yourself, she was wrong. Everyone is wrong. 
“Why can’t you accept me for who I am!? Why does everyone want to mold me into what they want!? Into what society wants!?” You weren’t looking at her, your eyes looking at the counter. Your voice was loud, taking Robin by surprise, but something in your words caught her attention. 
Everyone? 
“I accepted you, always! But the past months I felt like I actually got to know the real you! For the fucking first time!” At her words you rolled your eyes as a tear fell down your cheek.
“Right, because I started dressing myself with short shit? Because I started talking to guys? Is that the ‘normal’ for you?” You were in complete defensive mode, and Robin knew that, but she was taken aback by your response. You two never fought, ever, and this would be the first big fight you two would have, but Robin wasn’t going to lose it.
“No! Because you let yourself go! You started doing shit you actually wanted to do, and you even voiced it out! You got stuff that you wanted, and then you learnt to not ask for a second opinion on it! You liked stuff and you got it!” She motioned to all of the trash bags again, her voice breaking from how loud she was starting to get. “Everything that’s in these bags, are things YOU picked! No one else did for you!”
You flinched at her words. You did pick those clothes, you did pick the makeup yourself, you did pick many of the accessories yourself… But you picked them probably because you knew what everyone might like, driven by that, more than what you actually enjoyed wearing. You were driven by what he might like. What he might enjoy. What he always looked at every time he went to work. 
“Robin, I don’t want to listen to you any longer, if you can’t accept–”
“Accept who you are, I always did! And I always will! This part of you–” She motioned to your body, your clothes, your hair. “I accept, AS WELL, as this side of you.” She then motioned to all of the trash bags in the living room. 
“You are not fucking showing it.” You spat at your friend with venom in your voice. Robin was not going to let you walk out of all the progress you made, she wasn’t going to give up on you, she wasn’t going to let you give up on yourself.
“What the fuck happened? What made you revert into your past self?” Robin walked towards you, slowly, as if she were approaching a scared dog. You blinked at those words, turning to finally look at her. 
“You mean, why did I stop pretending something I’m not? They’re two different things.” Robin saw it in your eyes, there was an emptiness, as if someone had punched a hole somewhere in your body and your blood was slowly draining out from your body. There is something behind your eyes, something behind your defensiveness, something behind your quivering lip that simply broke you.
Something happened this weekend. Something definitely happened to you. 
“You need to tell me… what happened. Did someone hurt you? Did someone make you feel bad?” Robin didn’t know what to ask because you weren’t giving anything out. She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary except for the bags, and she had to know what was going on in your head. You simply had to talk to her.
“Nothing happened. I just realized many things.” You were looking down at the floor again, and Robin’s hands slowly raised up to land on your shoulders. Your eyes were different now. They weren’t empty no more. They were hurt. Completely and utterly hurt. Your eyes were going back and forth as memories kept flashing in them, moments that you thought were real, moments that you thought were created with honesty, with the truth. 
“Baby… What happened?” Robin said softly, her voice trembling slightly because you weren’t responding. You weren’t answering, and she was going insane about it. She wants to help you, she needs to help and she doesn’t know how. 
“I need to be alone.” Robin shook her head, not wanting to do what you were asking, but you sent her a look that sent shivers down her spine. “You need to leave.” 
“What–” She couldn’t finish her sentence, as the tears in your eyes were starting to pool on the water lines, and your breathing turned heavy. You pushed her arms away from you, and walked to the door, ripping it open. 
“Get out!” You yelled at her. You actually yelled at her and Robin knew you were far gone. You weren’t going to listen, you weren’t going to talk, you weren’t going to let her in. She choked up on her own words, swallowing them as the anxiety of the situation was eating her at her stomach. Robin took a deep breath in and walked towards the door, giving you a final look.
“Please… talk to me when you’re ready.” You simply glared at her as tears rolled down your cheeks, and the moment she was out of the door, you slammed it shut, locking it as quickly as possible and your hands were pressed against it as the breathing turned almost painful.
Through the entire morning you had been holding back tears, holding back the emotions that were swirling in your mind. How can you tell Robin that Eddie tricked you? How do you even explain to her that you also feel like she knew? Steve was the one that told you about it, and her and Steve were almost best friends now. It’s impossible for her to not know about their second jobs.
You tried really hard to keep yourself together this morning, you really tried. You didn’t want to cry anymore because you felt like you were drained, only for more tears to appear out of nowhere. You could hear your phone buzzing in your pocket and you clenched your eyes tight. He hasn’t stopped calling, he hasn’t stopped messaging you, he hasn’t stopped asking if you were okay even when you told him you needed some time alone this weekend.
He wouldn’t leave you alone.
And that was confusing you, not understanding why he still wanted to talk to you when he already got what he wanted. He already tasted you, so what else does he want? The worst part is that he got everything now. He had you in every shape and form, in body and soul, and he doesn’t even know that. He just wanted the physical part and he doesn’t even know that he got more than just your body. And he will never know.
For the past two days you couldn’t even bring yourself to throw the bags out of the apartment. There was this string holding you back, it was invisible, yet you knew it was there. You wanted them out of your house because the pain of seeing them there is just too great, but you couldn’t even lift one bag up. You couldn’t even imagine putting a bag for donation because the pain becomes even bigger than having the bags in your house.
You slammed your back against the door as the tears kept coming down your cheeks, sobs ripping out at your chest. You slid down all the way and onto the floor, pulling your knees up to your chest, hugging them tightly as you pressed your face into them. You didn’t know what you wanted. You don’t even know if letting go is the right choice because you still hurt either way. But that’s life isn’t it? Letting go to move forward.
Your nights were sleepless, your pillows very much stained with all the tears that went through their fabric, yet you didn’t change the bedsheets. You didn’t, even if you should have. You didn’t let go of those sheets. You didn’t let go of that night. You didn’t let go of his scent. You didn’t let go of what he made you feel. You didn’t want to let go, yet you knew you had to.
Because it was all a lie.
Why is life this hard? Why is everything this way for you? Why can’t you just be happy with who you are? You’re a fucking hypocrite, telling Robin to accept you as you are when you can’t even do it yourself. You were torn between knowing who you are and who you wanted to be. You didn’t know anymore. You just didn’t. You were feeling as if something was ripped away from you, and you didn’t know if it was your heart, or that you that laughed when you tried to teach Billy how to braid hair, that you that danced around the living room with Steve twirling behind you, or that you that kissed a man because she really desired to do so.
A man that wrapped you around his finger, to then engulf you into his whole hand, crushing you bit by bit as he squeezed. You don’t want to keep going like this. You don’t want to give him any more trophies. You don’t want to remember anymore, you want your memories to vanish completely, yet you don’t want them to at the same time. You had to let go. You had to let him go.
Today you’ll throw the bags out.
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Robin was breathing heavily as she paced around in her apartment. 
She couldn’t talk to anyone about this because no one knew what you did the past two months. Robin didn’t even tell the other girls that she had a new friend called Steve. She didn’t even tell Vickie yet, and now Robin was losing her mind on who to talk to about this. She needed help.
She was trying to remember if you said anything on Friday, anything that would give her any kind of lead. She cursed at herself because she just remembers being too excited about her date with Vickie that everything else was being blocked out. Focus Robin, focus. She was at the mall when she called you, and she does remember you glowing, but what did you say?
Robin was slamming her hand on the counter as she tried to recall every second of that call. She went into a store, she remembers looking for a shirt, and then you had asked her how did she know she liked Vickie. Something about attraction. Something that made Robin look at you with knowing eyes. She straightened up, freezing.
Groceries. You didn’t go to the grocery store.
Robin’s hands immediately rushed to get her phone, not caring that it was ten in the morning and her friend might probably be asleep right now. She remembers Steve being home on friday because he was sick, very sick, so she has to know if you went to their house that night. She immediately started calling her friend, her phone raised up, waiting for him to answer.
No answer was coming and Robin Buckley was desperate. She needed to talk to Steve, she needed to know where you were that night. She cursed under her breath and grabbed her car keys from the counter. She doesn’t like driving much, but for you she would drive 9 hours straight if it were necessary. She was flying out of her complex in the matter of seconds, and in the matter of minutes, driving by many red lights, she got to Steve’s building. 
She parked the car as best as she could in her hurry, knowing she might get a ticket for how badly it was sticking out but it was the least of her worries right now. You didn’t look fine, and she was scared. She ran to the intercom, pressing her finger in his apartment number repeatedly, not stopping at all until a very tired Billy Hargrove answered on the other side.
“I swear to god, whoever it is–”
“It’s Robin! Let me in!” She says in a hurry as her legs start making her bounce up and down in her anxiety. 
“Robin, it is too early–”
“It’s an emergency!” She almost yells and Billy could sense the high pitch in her tone. Robin heard the buzzer going off and she rushed inside the building, and she sighed a thank you to whoever was above that the elevator was already in the lobby. She was tapping her foot repeatedly as she kept pressing the desired floor button, even if the elevator was already dinging that it was going up, as if it were going to make it go faster.
Once the metal doors opened, her legs immediately stomped towards the door, knocking onto it at a quick pace, her breathing heavy as she waited for anyone to open the door. At the small turn of doorknob, she was pushing herself in, making Billy stumble backwards, his eyes widening at the gesture as he sees the tornado Robin is leaving behind in her rush.
“Is Steve up!?” She turns to see Billy closing the door with worried eyes, a frown in his eyebrows as he keeps looking at Robin. Her answer came quickly when she heard the metal clinking of the stairs as someone headed down. She turned to see Steve in his blue robe and boxers, rubbing his eye with one hand as he held the phone with the other.
“Why do I have 10 missed calls from you Robin?” Steve says with a grunt as he finally reaches the bottom of the stairs. She immediately rushes towards him, grabbing him by the shoulders as his eyes widen at her.
“Something is fucking wrong, I don’t know what even happened but you need to tell–”
“Robin!?” Her head snapped almost as it turned to look at Eddie, running down the stairs, skipping a few even and almost falling in his hurry. Robin frowned at his yelling as she let go of Steve and Eddie rushed towards her. She could see bags underneath his eyes from lack of sleep, his hair was a mess and scrunched up into what looked like a bun and he simply seemed drained.
“Eddie, jesus fuck, you have to help me!” Robin lets go of Steve who was now very much awake and aware that something wasn’t right. He looked at Billy for answers but the blonde boy simply shrugged at him, still with the worried frown in his eyebrows. 
“First, you fucking help me, she is not answering to any of my texts or my calls! She told me she needed time alone!” Robin winced at his words, shaking her head at him as she put her face in her hands in despair. You wouldn’t even talk to Eddie? How can he help you if you cannot even talk to him?
“She regressed.” The three boys were looking at Robin for more explanation, but Eddie’s heart was already at his throat. He was hoping that it didn’t mean what he thought she meant. He was hoping that this was not happening, not with all the progress you made. He was hoping that this was not happening, right before he got the chance to–
“What do you mean she regressed?” Billy dared to ask. He was looking at Eddie, not even at Robin because he was worried about his friend, his friend that was looking at Robin with fear in his eyes. His friend that hasn’t slept since friday. His friend that is going to have a heart attack if he doesn’t speak to you soon.
“She’s back to square one.” She puts her hands down as she looks up at Eddie with tears in her eyes. “I don’t know what happened, her new clothes are all in trash bags, as well as her make up I think? We went to get coffee an hour ago and she couldn’t even fucking look at the guy behind the counter.” 
Eddie’s world crumbled.
His shoulders sagged as his breathing stopped, feeling as if his soul was coming out of his mouth. No… No, no, no. That couldn’t be right, everything was fine friday morning, everything was amazing friday morning, everything was perfect friday morning. It cannot be, it surely cannot be… Did he do something wrong? He talked to you later that day and you didn’t respond, not until midnight where you told him that you needed time alone to think about stuff.
That had already stabbed him once in the chest. Did you regret what happened? Did you regret him? Did he overstep? Did he read the signs… wrong? But now, knowing the reason why you didn’t want to talk to him was enough to actually kill him. How could it happen? How did you regress? Did something happen to you on that day? Did he say something in the morning that wasn’t to your liking? Was it because he had to leave? Did you think he was done because he left for work?
“Robin… Please tell me it is a joke.” Robin simply looked up at Eddie, dropping her hands from her face with her eyebrows meeting in the middle. She shook her head at him, and he huffed as he brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he tried to think rationally. He had to go see you. He had to meet with you. He had to talk to you. Fear was crippling all over his body at the thought that he was the reason for your regression.
“No… And I don’t know what happened…” Robin’s eyes lit up as she looked at Eddie who was still clenching his eyes together in thought. Fridays. “Did she come here on Friday?” Eddie opened his eyes with a confused frown in his eyebrows.
“I wasn’t here on friday, I was working.” He shortly replies and Robin blinked and tilted her head in confusion. Fridays were Eddie’s day off, she clearly remembers because you were always excited about Fridays coming up. You were always preparing your next Friday night with Eddie as soon as last Friday finished. So that leaves–
“Shit.”
Everyone’s eyes landed on the brown haired man that was standing in the living room with a lost look in his eyes as he stared at the floor, a frown in his eyebrows as his head slightly moved as if he were remembering images of a movie inside of his head, and then, his eyes clenched as if he were in pain, running a hand along his face in complete despair.
“Steve?” Robin was afraid of what was happening to her friend, not liking his movements at all, not as if he is remembering something that he is regretting at this very moment.
“Shit… Shit, shit, shit.” Steve started pacing back and forth, his fingers running up into his scalp as he held tightly onto his hair. Eddie was immediately on his ass, stepping closer to his friend as his ears started tingling with anticipation, with even more fear than before, knowing something definitely happened now, and it had nothing to do with what happened between the two of you.
“What is going on? Steve?” Billy’s voice was strong, but it was mixed with nervousness now because Steve looked anything… but innocent.
“Fuck, she told me to not tell you she came over, I was fucked up in medication and–” Steve was breathing heavily as his memory started to become clearer each second it passed and he cursed at himself at each word he remembered. 
“Steve, what the fuck did you say to her?” Eddie sounded nervous, afraid, and Robin caught on that, looking at him with a confused frown in her eyebrows. Steve let a heavy sigh out of his lips as he looked at Eddie with pity written all over his face, as well as regret.
“I’m so sorry Eddie, I– Fuck, it was before you told us about it, and… shit, she couldn’t even look me in the eye and I didn’t fucking notice–” Eddie’s mind was racing. You came here on friday, the day you always knew it was his day off, and he wasn’t here, and Steve–
“Please tell me you didn’t.” Eddie almost whispers, but not quite, it was more of a threatening tone towards his friend, and Steve could only look at Eddie with regret flashing into his eyes.
“I told her… I told her that you were at your second job.” 
Everyone froze. Everyone except Robin, who was confused, looked back and forth between the three men. Second job? What did he mean? Why are the three of them completely frozen? Why is Eddie turning whiter at each second that passes? Why is Steve looking so guilty? 
“Second… job?” Robin dared to ask and Steve winced, clenching his eyes shut as he gulped and looked down at the floor.
“I didn’t want you to judge me… So I never told you about it…” Steve licked his lips as he looked up at Robin this time, not daring to look at Eddie, not right now, not this second. “We sometimes… fuck our clients… sometimes for money, sometimes–”
Everything was interrupted when Eddie let out a big scoff, almost as if what he just heard was unbelievable. Steve told you that, Steve fucking told you that right after Eddie slept with you. Nobody knows about you two, and if they do, it wasn’t thanks to his mouth. He didn’t talk about you in that way with anyone, and he now sees how fucking stupid it was to do that.
If he had told his friends about what was going on with you sooner, they’d understand and encourage it. If he had told his friend about what happened between you two, they would know what they could say and what they couldn’t. If he had told his friends about his decision sooner, rather than yesterday night, Steve wouldn’t have opened his mouth the way he did with you on Friday. 
But he couldn’t blame his friend. Yet, the anger was still deep in his chest as he shook his head at Steve, who only gulped as he looked at Eddie. 
“Eddie, I didn’t know… I didn’t even know you didn’t tell her–” But Eddie couldn’t hear anything else any longer. His only thought was you, he needed to get to you, he needed to see you, to talk to you, to clear things up, to tell you what he feels for you, to make you understand him, hoping you would. 
“Steve, if I don’t fix things up with her, I am shaving your fucking head.” Eddie was already marching up towards the door after grabbing the keys from the keyholder next to the door. He could hear Steve sighing behind him and Robin’s mind puzzle was slowly putting itself together, and as it did, she rushed towards Eddie to stop him, grabbing onto his arm, making him look at her with a frown to his face, only to be met with rage behind Robin’s eyes.
“If what Steve said is right, then you are the fucking reason for her regression!” Robin was enraged. She knew that you felt something for Eddie, and she also knew about you going out with him on thursday. She also knew you two had kissed, because of course Steve was not going to not tell her about how he kissed you himself and that you didn’t even flinch, telling her how amazed he was with your progress. She knew, and she knew now that Eddie had fucked up.
“Robin– It’s not what you think–” Billy tried to stop Robin but she wasn’t having it, not letting go of Eddie’s arm at all.
“He is just going to keep hurting her, so don’t you dare fucking go Munson.” Eddie’s eyes were still locked into Robin’s as his face scrunched up, guilt and anger mixing together as he looked down at her.
“I never meant to hurt her. Not even once. You’re not the only one that cares about her, not anymore Buckley.” He replied back in the same manner that she was talking to him. They were both glaring at one another, invisible daggers being thrown and Robin was still not letting go of Eddie’s arm. 
“Robin…” Steve slowly approached her and put a hand over her shoulder, making her look at him with anger in her eyes. “Let him go. Let him talk to her please…” And everyone noticed that guilt that was pooling in Steve’s mouth, and everyone could see it in the pained frown that took place in his eyebrows. Robin’s eyes softened as she looked at her friend, and then turned back to Eddie. Eddie’s eyes were different now, almost begging her for something, and Robin slowly let go of his arm.
“She won’t answer you.” Eddie licked his lips as he looked at the door, thinking of a way to talk to you, to get you to open the door for him. His eyes lit up, looking back at Robin.
“But she will answer you.”
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You finally decided to take a shower, after these past few days you did not want to leave your bed at all. You were rubbing the towel on your wet hair as you walked to your drawers to throw on your grey leggings, a plain white shirt and a long oversized white hoodie over you. You looked at yourself in the mirror as you started combing your hair with your fingers and god… Your eyes.
They were puffy, too puffy, and the bags under them were not helping the situation. You just looked like a monster, a very tired monster. You dragged your feet towards your dirty laundry basket, throwing the towel in there. Your eyes then scanned over the sheets on your bed, making you wince almost in pain. You have to. You have to do it. 
So first, you took the covers off your pillows, then your sheets, then the fitted ones, throwing them into the basket as well. Okay, that’s done. You walked over to your closet and tiptoed to reach up into the tallest shelf to retrieve new sheets. Your heart was tugging at you as you dressed your bed in its new soft fabric, the smell of softener just filling the air and the sweet cologne was already gone. You wanted to have just one more smell as you put the comforter over your bed, looking at the laundry basket. You shook your head at how creepy that was.
You gulped loudly as you walked out of your room, seeing all the trash bags still resting against the wall, waiting for you to take them out. You took a deep breath in as you pressed a hand against your forehead, your belly turning at every moment it could, the memories just coming back, your brain reminding you of how naive you were, the nagging feeling of what could have been, and the grief of losing a dear friend. 
How were you going to move on from this? Is there a possible way to mend your heart back? To return to your old self? Because even that person is broken. Even the person that you were before all of this is completely shattered, and it’s like you don’t know yourself any longer. Who are you? What do you like? What do you look for? What are you yearning for? What is going to happen to you?
You felt lost. Completely, and utterly lost.
The ringing of your phone brought you back to reality, The Shire filled the room with its calming tone, not at all matching with the storm that you had inside yourself. You walked towards the coffee table to grab onto it, seeing Robin calling. Should you answer? Should you talk to her? You don’t even know what you could possibly talk to her about, knowing she was just going to keep pestering you about everything.
It stops ringing and you sigh, almost in relief, only for it to start ringing again. Now worry was filling your chest because maybe something happened. She was probably hurt or something, so now you didn’t doubt when you pressed the button to answer her call, a heavy breathing Robin already on the other side.
“Robs–”
“I can’t believe I already got into my first fight with her!” You hear your friend on the other side, her breathing invading your ears, and you straighten up at the sound of her distress. 
“What? Are you okay Robs?” You asked her, and you knew that she wasn’t okay at all, not by the sound of her breathing against the phone.
“No, no, I’m not… Please tell me you’re home…” Her voice softened and you blinked and looked at the door, rushing towards it to unlock it.
“Yeah, I unlocked the door, just come on up!” You tell her and you can hear a soft thank you from her before she hangs up. You started at your phone as you processed the events in your head. Robin got together with Vickie and something already happened between the two? You shook your head and you walked towards your room to look for your scented candles.
Everytime something happened to one of your friends, you always prepared the place with scented candles, incense, anything that might calm them. You didn’t have ice cream this time though. Shit. Maybe you can go later on with her to get some. It could also be that Robin was exaggerating because she has liked Vickie for a long time, so maybe the most minuscule of things might have happened with them two, and she was just elevating it all to a hundred.
You walked out of your room, your back towards the door as you placed the candles on the coffee table. You chose rosemary and lavender, to have some fresh and cleansing energy in the room. The door opened and closed, and you sighed, straightening up and turning around to greet your friend. Only for your air to be knocked out of your lungs, as if a punch was thrown right into your chest.
Why is he here?
Your heart was beating into your ears as your whole body froze as you stared at him. He was breathing heavily, as if he ran the flight of stairs all the way to your floor. His hair was completely messy even if it were in a bun, his jacket was on his hand, his arms on his sides, the shadow of his beard all over his jaw, over the top of his lip as well. He was just staring back at you with a frown in his face, but his eyes caught the bags on his peripheral vision, and that’s when you snapped out of the trance, giving your back to him.
You clenched your chest tightly as you felt nausea in your stomach, your body slightly trembling at how close he was, and the room was shrinking on you. What is going on? Robin was the one coming up, so why is Eddie here? Why? Did Robin lie to you? Why would she do this to you? Why would she deceive you like this? After what you told her just a few hours ago, how could she do this to you?
This is not right. This is not okay. Your breathing was heavy as dizziness filled your head. So many emotions were running through your body, sadness, nervousness, anger, happiness, excitement, and you don’t know which one to focus on. Your guts were turning at each second, each breath you heard from him as the world stood still for the both of you. 
You asked for time, you asked him to leave you alone, and here he is in the flesh, barging into your home. Barging into the home of a friend he lied to. Barging into the home of someone he deceived and shaped to his own liking. Barging into the home of someone he said he cared about and slept with, only to cleanse his body afterwards. You didn’t want the reminder of it, you didn’t want him to make excuses, you didn’t want any of that. 
You just wanted him out of your house.
“What the fuck?” He called out your name, and you didn’t turn around, not when you heard his voice since Friday happened. Was it possible to miss someone’s voice? How could it happen? Why is it happening? Why does it give you a warm feeling despite the pain he made you go through? Why does he have this much effect on you? You know what he did, you know what his plan was, so why does his mere voice make you happy?
You heard his footsteps going closer to the bags, and your panic settled in. He is going to touch that stuff, the stuff he said looked good on you. The stuff you bought that might catch his attention. The stuff that he recommended to you, and you went and bought it for yourself. Stuff that he didn’t even know you bought. Stuff that you decided that looked good on you at that time and simply got it, but you know that those tastes were settled in your brain by him. 
“G-Get out.” You muster to actually get your voice out of your lips, and you heard Eddie’s steps stopping. He was looking at the back of your head, a storm settling inside of him on hearing those words from you, how shaky you sound, how your body slightly trembles. But he wasn’t going to follow your orders.
“I am not leaving until you listen to me.” He states and your ears were ringing. He never went against your wishes, and that was making the anger elevate a little bit more. He was always patient with you, following your rhythm and now he is denying your request.
“I-I don’t want to talk to you!” You clenched your eyes as your shoulders raised up a bit to brace yourself for anything that he might say. His eyes hardened on your form, and his right eye twitched as he looked at the bags again.
“What are these bags?” He asks you, but he knows the answer. He just wants to know how much damage was caused, and from what he could see, quite a lot. Everything was in the bags, from your makeup to your jackets. He clenched his own eyes as a sting of pain shot through his heart, the purple dress peeking out from one of the bags.
“I said get out!” You screech again and Eddie’s patience finally breaks. He was always careful with you, always listened to you, and now you don’t want to listen to him. He understands your pain, he understands what your mind went through this past weekend, but he will not take it today. He will not let you run away, drive him out of your house, even if you call the police on him. 
“I told you I am not leaving until you fucking listen to me!” Your eyes widened as your body froze up. This was the first time Eddie had cussed at you. This was the first time that Eddie raised his voice towards you. You didn’t like it, you really didn’t like it. Why is he mad? Why is he the one that’s angry? After what he did? 
“I don’t want to listen to you!” You yell back, annoyance now mixing with your anger, and your nerves were slipping out of your fingertips as the walls just closed more on you. Eddie slammed his jacket onto the counter, patience gone by now, and it made you flinch, jump on your spot.
“You will listen to me, because I am not leaving at all until you do.” Eddie’s feelings were everywhere. He was scared and saddened by your reaction, from what Steve said to you, for how you acted towards it, and he was sad your mind was your worst enemy. But he was also angry by the fact that you wouldn’t even listen to him. That you don’t even give him a chance, letting your mind cloud every single patch of sun there might be, that there once was. 
It was not of Eddie to be this persistent. You wanted to turn around and look at him, but you knew that it was a bad idea. A very bad idea to look into the eyes of a man that looked at every part of your body, the eyes of a man that looked into yours, telling you that he had wanted you for a long time. The eyes of a man that you thought shared the same feelings as you did, only for everything to be an act, to be a lie, to be a complete trick that you stupidly fell for.
“I said I don’t want–”
“Did everything that happened between us mean nothing to you?” You straightened up, wondering if you heard him right. What? “Seriously, I thought you trusted me enough to come talk to me about this, not let your mind race like it did!” What the hell… What the actual–
“I said get out!” You yelled again, and your heart was a turmoil of emotions right now, feeling the nausea just building and building, your head now lightweight with dizziness as it spiraled.
“Jesus fuck.” Eddie took a deep breath in. He needed to calm himself down because even if he was hurt too, your pain was greater than his and he has to understand that. He understands that it must have not been easy for you, hearing that right after you two slept together, and Eddie honestly can’t blame anyone but himself for it. “That night–”
“NO!” Your hands immediately shot to your ears, covering them, your eyes clenching tightly in an attempt to block him out, not wanting to hear it from his mouth. Hearing it from Steve was more than enough and you do not want to relive that experience. Eddie knew you weren’t going to listen to him willingly, but there’s no chance that he is walking out of your apartment without talking. He took more steps towards you, standing behind you for you to listen to him despite your ears being covered.
“I know what Steve said to you.” He begins as his heart wants to come out of his throat, looking up at the ceiling. “I was at my second job.”
Your ears buzzed at the confession, your eyes now burning with incoming tears as your heart broke even more if it were possible. Why is he doing this to you? Why is he clarifying what you already knew? Is he just rubbing the salt on the wound for pleasure? Does he think that everything is going to be better just because he explains it all himself when he should have done it when he met you?
“I don’t want to hear–”
“I did hide it from you… As I hid it from everyone else, even Steve.” Your eyebrows frowned at that, his words not making any sense at all. Steve was the one that told you about his second job, Steve was the one that told you he was with a client. What does he mean? Why is he confusing you this way? You shook your head in between your hands, not wanting to hear him any longer.
“Please, stop–”
“Before I met you, I did, in fact, sleep with clients for the money… It was a good income, an extra one…” He took a deep breath in as he looked at the back of your head again, seeing your shoulders shake slightly, and all he wanted was to hold you close to him, caress you, soothe you and calm you down. “But after meeting you… I started declining calls, offers…”
A tear rolled down your cheek as you heard him talk. Is he telling you the truth? Does this mean that he wasn’t with a client on Friday night? Does this mean that he never got together with a client right after meeting with you? Your heart was painfully beating inside your chest now, as confusion was making your body heat start to increase, blood just pumping all the way to your fingertips and your head.
“I don’t get it…” You softly say to him. He gulped heavily as he licked his lips, looking down at the floor to try to make his nerves calm down, even if a little bit.
“I was at work on Friday.” What? That wasn’t right, Eddie’s friday nights were his day off. Was he lying to you again? Was this another trick? 
“You don’t work on Fridays.” You reply to him, almost bitterly and you hear him sigh behind you.
“I do now, because I am not on stage any longer.” That made your hands drop from your ears, shock just making you freeze in your place as you took in his words, trying to make them make sense in your brain. On stage? He works Fridays now?
“Wh-What do you mean?” Eddie’s breathing grew heavy as he pushed the gulp of nerves that was trapped in his throat. He was hoping that his words were getting through you because this is the scariest thing he has ever done. The feelings that are deep inside of him frightened him everyday.
“For the past month, I’ve been training for another job at the club. Bartending.” 
Your eyes were fixed forward, looking at the window, feeling his presence right behind you. Nothing was making sense. Nothing at all. How could he hide that fact? Why didn’t he talk to Steve or Billy about it? How did they not notice this? How was it all possible? The need to turn around to face him was slowly increasing, wanting to see his features, read him, know if he was being honest.
“How– Why didn’t you tell me?” That was the first question that left your mouth, not caring about the rest. Why didn’t he tell you this? He still hid something from you, even if it isn’t as painful, he still didn’t tell you about it, and there must be a reason for it. A reason that you might not like and that’s why he didn’t say anything.
But you were wrong. You were so wrong. Eddie’s hands trembled as he took the ponytail off his hair, letting it down so he could run his fingers through it in complete nervousness. His breathing was deep, trying really hard to control it but it was impossible, because here is where he is going to take the leap. 
This is where everything between the two of you actually changes.
“Because… I was waiting for it to be official… for you.”
What?
What did he just say?
Did you hear him right?
You stood still, eyes wide, blood completely gone from your body and you don’t even know how it’s even functioning. You don’t feel your hands, your feet, your heart, nothing. You were frozen, from head to toe. You knew that your brain was yelling something, you knew there was a buzzing in your ears, a very distant one as you slowly started to process his words, and when you did, your body started to turn by its own accord. You weren’t controlling it. It was as if you were magnetized to him.
Your eyes finally met his, and you saw him. His brows were slightly furrowed, nervousness all over his features, his brown eyes searching for yours, desperately. His face was flushed, cheeks in a tint of red that you were sure was spreading to his ears. You felt your heart working again, starting at a slow pace, only to increase in a matter of seconds, and you felt the fingertips of your hands start to tremble once again. 
“W-What?” It’s all you could say. It’s all you could ask. You don’t know what is going on any longer, and Eddie knew that you were confused. Too confused, but his heart now hurts from seeing the red puffy eyes that had bags underneath them, almost mimicking his, and knowing that he was the cause of it, was cutting him like a knife. 
“I really wasn’t planning on doing it like this… The call I received that morning– It was Joyce. I forgot I had the bartending afternoon shift.” The gears in your brain were going and going, processing every word, every eye movement, every breath that was coming out of his mouth, and every piece of information that he was giving you. Joyce… His boss. His boss was the one calling him that morning. It wasn’t a client. It wasn’t someone else.
“I–” You were speechless, you really didn’t know what to say, you have no idea how to even digest this information. Eddie sighed at your lost eyes, but he had to be honest with you, just put his heart on the plate for you, pushing the fear and nervousness away because the only thing that mattered to him right now, was you.
“I didn’t tell Steve, nor Billy. I lied to them saying… I was going to see clients but I was going back to the club to train… Shit.” He looked down from you as he stepped back to start pacing, slowly, because he was feeling as if his heart was just beating all over his body. “That’s why Steve said what he said on Friday.” 
This… is this real? He is actually saying this to you? You are not making it up? How is this happening? You didn’t notice that a tear was rolling down your cheek as your gear suddenly turned, stopping from going backwards, and they started going forward again, almost at a rapid pace, making you slightly dizzy at the amount of information that it was processing in a single moment. 
“I– I don’t understand…” Eddie sighed as he looked at you, his shoulders sagging slightly as his guts turned and turned, knowing he had to explain himself even further, say words that he was afraid of saying for a long time, but it would explain everything he did. Everything he did in order to be suitable.
“Sweetheart, I–... I didn’t do it just because I didn’t have the extra income of…” He shook his head, deciding to not mention that part of him any longer. “I wanted to have a chance, and I knew that I would do anything for it.” 
“A- A chance? For what?” Your heart was almost exploding, not only because of your nerves, but because there was something in his eyes that was making you feel alive again, making you feel like yourself, making you tremble with all of those feelings you have for him, those feelings that have yet to be said, but for some reason… His eyes are something that makes you hopeful, and this is what you were anticipating. 
“Angel, I… I fell for you, in ways you cannot even imagine.”
Time froze. 
The world stopped turning.
The moon stopped gravitating around it as well. 
The entire galaxy, including its stars, including its milky ways, including the expanse of nothingness, everything just simply stopped.
Those words out of his mouth, those simple yet strong words were everything you anticipated. Everything you had been waiting for. That feeling of wanting more, and more, and more, it wasn’t just physical, it was because you wanted him, in every form, in soul, in any way he had to offer. This was the ‘more’ that was chanting in your head everyday and at every minute that you looked at him. 
Your hearts could be heard across the room, beating rapidly at the same time, as the two of you simply stood there, looking at one another, breathing heavily with your chests going up and down. Eddie had a nervous frown on his face, while you were just frozen in place. Patience returned to him, and he waited. He waited for you to answer, for you to say something, anything at all. And even in your own bliss that was beginning to blossom, eyes burning from the incoming tears from the emotions you cannot handle any longer, there was still an insecure side of you. A part that didn’t let go quite yet.
“You– for me? Or–” Your eyes traveled towards the bags, and he followed your gaze, and he now understood. He now got the idea of why you put everything away, another sting of pain shooting into his heart that navigated all the way to his feet. He turned to face you again, his eyes looking into yours and you had to know. You had to know his thoughts.
“I found you beautiful back when you first sat down in front of me at the coffee shop… The day we went to the bar together and you started rambling about Harry Potter just…–” A small laugh left his lips at the realization of how deep his feelings were for you. He knew they were big, but he is realizing it all just now that they’re just huge, not quite love, but still surprising from it happening so fast. “When I saw you in your purple dress, I just, I didn’t think you could get more beautiful but– Fuck, you proved me wrong sweetheart.”
Your eyes were burning from the intensity of his words, and they were simply attaching themselves in every inch of your body, soaking them into your flesh, into your brain. You didn’t think that he found you attractive since before actually becoming friends, since before you started buying other clothes, before you started wearing make-up, heels, making your hair look nicer. 
“R-Really?” You sounded so small, so fragile, but he was going to make sure to get his feelings across with you, he was going to make sure that you knew that you were indeed beautiful, confident, and that you are your own person despite what your head might think.
“Really… Even when I came here to watch movies with you and Robin, and you were with your Pikachu sweatpants and a plain shirt, I thought you looked so cute… In the sense of– I wanted to kiss you so bad that night Angel. So fucking bad.” You blinked at his words, remembering that night. It was still on your early outings, getting to know each other, and Robin was always present at those. You were on your period and all you wanted to do was wear comfortable clothes. 
“B-But that was before we…” And he nodded, knowing what you were meaning, a red tint covering his cheeks as he looked at the floor.
“Before we even kissed. I know… And when we did, you seriously have no idea how much I had to hold myself back with you. I curse the moment that Billy and Steve walked through that door and interrupted us.” He gulped loudly and your fingertips were burning, almost itching with the need to grab onto him, of pulling him into you, your heart just pumping blood loudly into your ears.
“But when… When Steve–” More words were coming out of your mouth now, as the desperation of your excitement was getting the best of you. Your happiness was slowly returning to you, as euphoria burst from your ears, from your pores, from every single cell your body possibly has.
“Don’t get me started on that. I never wanted to rip a friend’s head before, but my fingertips almost went through the cushion I was sitting on from how bad I was clenching my fist… And then the fucking date–” He rapidly says as a hint of annoyance was found in his voice. He was jealous. He was jealous that Steve had kissed you, and you didn’t notice. You didn’t see it. 
“Why– Why didn’t you say anything?” You took a step forward to him, very small, but he noticed, and his heart could not contain its joy as it began jumping inside his chest cavity.
“I didn’t want to scare you off. I wanted to make sure that… You knew what you wanted, that you had a choice that you could make yourself…” His eyes were looking into your once lost ones. They were focusing even more, at each word his mouth let out. Your breathing was almost trembling as you kept looking at him. 
“And when… When did you…” Your face was flushing all over, heat invading every single part of your body as you looked down from his face. A soft smile appeared on his cheeks as he took one small step towards you.
“When you called me beautiful.” Your eyes widened as you locked them with his, surprised by his words. Your stomach turns with the information, trying to process it fully and let it sink that this man, this amazing man, actually feels something for you, and that it’s in the same magnitude as your feelings.
“T-That long?” Eddie’s eyes were intense as he looked at you, another step being taken as your face started to morph into that of a happy surprise, a happy excitement, and you were just glowing and Eddie knew. Eddie knew you felt the same way now, making him think that this must be a dream. This cannot be real. The girl he’s been wanting for the past two months wants him back, in the same way he wants her. 
“Angel, do you have any idea how hard it is to find someone like you?” You were now gazing at him, completely entranced by his face, his voice, his scent, everything simply invading all of your senses, and you were loving it. You were adoring it. You were bathing in it. And Eddie, even if confident because he was looking at your body movement, he had to know. He had to make sure that this was real, that this was happening to him. “What about you?”
And that is the question that made you freeze again. This was another turning point, and the path that was ahead of the both of you now looked foggy, not knowing where it was headed, not knowing if it would be worth the dive or not, not knowing what the two of you might be like later on, what you two will be doing, or what you two will encounter.
But that was the adrenaline of it all, because despite all that fear, all that insecurity, all that uncertainty, you still wanted more. You wanted more, with him. You wanted the normal, you wanted the eccentric, you wanted the happiness, you wanted the sadness, you also wanted the possible little fights you two might have, and you wanted those nights where you would be tangled into one another’s arms. It’s always more, and it will never be enough. Not with him.
“I– I want you.” 
Eddie’s breathing almost stopped at your words. He wanted to sigh out of happiness, out of relief, out of excitement. His ears were not deceiving him as well as your eyes that were looking at him with intensity like never before. This was the most certain you looked. This is something you were confident on, and you were showing it. You were confident that you wanted him.
“Like…?” He asked one more time, and this was the first time that you saw Eddie lose his confidence. This was the first time that the roles were reversed. This is how you looked before meeting him, and you now realize how desperate you are becoming to not let him think that way. You were desperate to show him what your feelings were. You didn’t want him to doubt you or himself. So you took a step forward, and now, you were just inches apart, and you looked up at him, stained cheeks and red eyes, as a soft smile crossed your lips.
“Like I want to make chocolate chip pancakes for you every morning.” 
Eddie’s face immediately lit up at your words, a big dimpled smile spreading on his lips, red cheeks that beamed down at you, as his hair cascaded all around his shoulders, just like that first night you met him. His face mirrored yours, and the only difference was the tears that were rolling down your face, and these tears were different from the ones you wasted these two days. Those were tears of someone that didn’t trust in herself, tears of someone that didn’t have confidence even in her own confidence. 
But now, your tears are those of a woman who knows what she wants. A woman that is confident that the man before him feels the same as she does. A woman that is willing to fight for her desires and her dreams. Tears of pure happiness as this new feeling envelops the two of you and just swallows you in for god knows how much time. Hopefully, a long, long time. 
His hands raised up to hold onto your face, wiping your tears away with his thumbs as they softly caressed your cheeks. Your breathing heavy as his was, your hands traveling to his waist to grip onto his shirt tightly as you inched forward to him and he didn’t even hesitate when he leaned down, not wanting to waste another second apart from you, and he pressed his lips against yours. 
Sparks flew all around you, stars rained down on you as the world started spinning again, slowly, time started ticking, the galaxy was once again moving and the moon was rotating around earth. This time, everything was moving with him, every step the two of you took was going to be a journey, together or by your own.
Your lips moved with his as the kiss grew deep, wanton, but not desperate, not rough, not lustful, at least not yet. You were both tasting each other, tasting one another’s feelings, tasting what you were both missing for the past two days, even for the past month because you didn’t know how to describe your feelings, and he for not talking at all. He pulled away, but didn’t leave the space of your lips as he talked.
“You–” A deep peck. “Have–” Another one and this time it caused you to giggle in your throat. “No idea–” A series of soft pecks, moving his head from one side to the other, making you smile against his lips. “How long I waited for this.” You were both breathing heavy as he stayed hovering over your lips, and you gulped, looking up into his eyes.
“I– I would have never made you… Quit– You didn’t have to do that…” You say to him, and he knew it was the truth. Even with your feelings, all this time, you never questioned him about his job, you never said anything about it, and even if you two got together, you probably would have never told him to quit.
“I know… I know you wouldn’t have… But that doesn’t mean that it wouldn’t bother you, and honestly, the last thing I want is to hurt you, in any way, and that includes you feeling insecure.” Your eyes teared up at his words, because he was right. You would have felt that way, you would have felt insecure but not because he would cheat, but because you knew the women there were more voluptuous, more feminine, more pretty, richer… 
“But, won’t Billy and Steve miss you?” Eddie smiles at you as a soft chuckle vibrates in his throat, making you gulp from how beautiful he is sounding right now to you.
“I will be bartending near them… I still have to do some stripping over the bar, but I cannot be touched. All the money goes into the tip jar… And let me tell you, I will make more than when I stripped on stage.” You stare up at him, not believing that this man had changed his job for you, to be suitable for you, to have the chance of giving you a peaceful mindset when being with him.
“So…” Your face flushed as you tried to speak, ask him that important question that, once again, will change it all. He grinned down at you, making your heart skip a beat.
“Hmm… You’re mine and I’m yours… How does that sound?” Your heart almost exploded at those words, a smile spreading on your face as you jumped from your feet, and his eyes widened but a laugh escaped his lips as your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his shoulders. His arms wrapped around your frame as he tilted his head back to look at your face.
“It sounds like we can have Mario Kart nights while eating anchovy pizza.” He groaned with delight, rolling his head all around as he heard those words out of your mouth, making you laugh at his antics. 
“Fuck yes… and then we can have desert…” He smirks as he leans his face towards your neck, planting a soft kiss on your skin as you gasp slightly at the touch. You bit your lip as you closed your eyes, diving into the feeling of him being close to you again. His warmth mixing with yours, both of your scents lingering in the air, and this is everything you could have wanted.
And possibly more.
“Robin!” You suddenly screeched, making Eddie’s eyes widen and pull away from you, looking all around for the girl mentioned.
“What’s wrong with Robin?”
“She said she got into a fight with Vickie! I should call her to–” Eddie couldn’t help but laugh, throwing his head back, and you tilted your head completely confused as you looked at him. “What’s so funny?”
“Angel…” He looked at you, trying to hold in his laughter as he raised an eyebrow at you. Your gears worked, and worked, and it clicked. Your eyes widened as your face turned into that of an offended one and you slapped Eddie’s shoulder, making him wince through his laughter.
“You tricked me!” He was about to reply to you, but then you both heard a shuffling at the door, and some mumbling. Suddenly the handle moved down, and the door opened, only for Robin and Steve to tumble down to the floor after Billy had opened the door from the side. Both you and Eddie stared at the situation as Robin rubbed her hip as she stood up and Steve rubbed his chest, getting on his own two feet.
“Jesus fuck, that hurt Hargrove!” Robin shrieks and Billy simply rolled his eyes and nodded towards you and Eddie, where you were still hugging him tightly with your whole body while he held you up. Robin and Steve turn to look at the both of you, and their faces blush a deep red. You immediately jump off Eddie, and he looks at you to see your face, waiting for the embarrassment to appear, but the only thing he sees is an angry frown, making him tilt his head in confusion.
“So, uh, you guys cleared things up?” Steve says with a nervous smile as he gulps while looking at you. 
“Steve!” You took steps forward towards the brown haired guy and he yelled slightly, running towards your kitchen as you tried to grab him. Eddie snorted to then laugh at the scenario of Steve using Billy to shield himself from you, as the blonde man groaned in annoyance.
“First I gotta babysit you two eavesdropping and now I’m a fucking shield!?” You huffed in exasperation as you glared at Steve while he peered at you from over Billy’s shoulder. Your sight moved towards Robin who had a small smile on her face. You immediately rushed towards her, arms wrapping around her as she reciprocated the hug, holding you close. 
“Don’t ever scare me like that again.” Robin softly says into you and you could only nod. You were so blind by your feelings for Eddie that you forgot your own. You forgot who you were, who you’ve become, and how much you loved that person that you turned into. How much you enjoy her, how much excitement she brought to your life. 
“Can everyone leave so I can spend time with my girlfriend?” Eddie says with a groan as he walks over to you and Robin, and the blonde girl rolls her eyes as she lets go of you. Your body heated up at his words. Girlfriend. You were his, and he is yours. Your boyfriend. You have a boyfriend you actually have feelings for. A boyfriend you are attracted to. A boyfriend that no matter how many times you see him in the week, in the day, you wouldn’t get tired of, ever.
“Don’t you hoard her. She was mine first.” Eddie rolls his eyes at Robin, and wraps an arm around your shoulders to pull you back into his embrace, a smile appearing on your lips as your chest hits his. He smiles down at you and Robin couldn’t help her own lips as they turned upwards as she looked at you. “Also, remember that we have to tell the girls now about… this.” She motioned at all the boys and you winced at that.
“Right…” You say to her, knowing that is going to be another big step, and you don’t know how your other friends will react, but hopefully they aren’t too angry with you. You could only hope.
“So, all forgiven?” Eddie and you slowly turned your heads to glare at the brown haired boy and Steve immediately grabbed Billy and Robin’s hands and started dragging them to the door as he gulped in fear. “We’ll leave!” 
“Hey– But I wanted to–” Billy starts and Steve shushes him as he pushes them both out of the door, but before he could close it, Billy yelled. “I knew it, Munson! All along!” And the door closed, leaving you two alone in the apartment once again. You blinked at those words and slowly turned to look at Eddie who was blushing a deep red. He turned to you with a wince on his face.
“Billy is very perceptive.” For the ease of your mind, he didn’t tell you that Billy had actually heard you both that night. You hummed at that, still confused, but you were alone with him again, and his wince turned into a soft smile, leaning down to nuzzle his nose with yours. “You know what I feel like?”
“What?” You ask him with a small smile on your face, he leans to hover his lips against yours.
“Beating you at Mario Kart.” Your eyes open like plates as you pull away from him, and give him a squint. He chuckles at your reaction and you bite the inside of your cheek as a smirk appears on your lips this time.
“If I win again, you will watch the entire saga of Harry Potter with me, chronologically.” He throws his head back in laughter but still nods. He was planning on doing that with you anyway, the one thing you both have right now, is time. A lot of it.
“And if I win?” He asks in a sultry tone and your knees tremble at his voice, your heart in your throat as you tiptoe to plant a small peck on his lips. 
“You won’t.” And your boyfriend’s eyes lit up with a new fire, with something that was burning you inside out.
“It’s on Angel.”
Do I wanna know? If this feeling flows both ways.
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The End.
A/N: I am sobbing right now. It's the end of it all, but I won't let go of these two that easily. I thank everyone who interacted with the story, and recommended it, and was simply supportive of it. It was going to be a three part thing, and now we're at 8 and at the end!
I hope to keep giving you guys this same excitement with my other stories!
I repeat, always reblog your artists! That's the only way that engagement works on tumblr!
Taglist: @katethetank @mynameismothra @emxxblog @steph-speaks @fantasticmacaroni @aysheashea @sweet-villain @eddiemunsonthoughts @emilyslutface @bookshelf-dust @justheretostalk @vintagehellfire @trixyvixx @steeldaisies @bitchyseawitch @seventhlevelofhell @leelei1980 @kbakery @corroded-hellfire @poofyloofyy @nightonblogmountain @gothvamp1973 @hideoutside @mrsjellymunson @honey-eyed-munson @sarcastically-defensive17 @narutofan249277 @siriuslysmoking @hereforshmut @venuslayla23-blog @ghost-proofbaby
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itsswritten · 2 months
Text
Naughty little shadows | 8
Pairing: azriel x fem reader
Word count: 3.4K
Summary: You and Azriel begin to navigate the new complexities of your mating bond, but you quickly realise how dangerous this could become. Is being mated to the Shadowsinger worth your safety?
A/N: Oh loves, I'm sorry this took so long and I'm sorry this part isn't my best. Feels a little like a filler chapter, but I promise it'll be amping up soon. I wanted to look at Azriel's pov more but I don't know, I'm not sure how I feel about it... anyway enjoy - Lottie xx
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<< Previous Part
The day hadn’t unfolded as expected, and Azriel couldn’t shake off the lingering unease that had settled between you both. Despite putting up a unified front at River House, maintaining a somewhat composed facade throughout the day– the tension still followed you both after leaving Azriel’s family. It was as if the adrenaline of the day and its events had abruptly dissipated as soon as you stepped outside, leaving only moments to mull and overthink.
Azriel had already felt apprehensive about the brunch, especially after gaining a better understanding of your ability. Knowing how tied your emotions were to your power, left him desperate to not put you in situations of discomfort. He didn’t want to trigger you. However, declining Feyre’s invitation would have been difficult, particularly when he sensed your eagerness to mend bridges. Azriel couldn’t be the one to dampen your enthusiasm by questioning if this gathering was perhaps too soon. 
But now, after everything, he wished he’d played the bad guy.
You had seemed to have gained a better grasp of your ability recently. Thanks in part to those evenings of practice that he always promised to support you through. Even if it was just to observe quietly or to gently caress your temple when you pushed too hard. Azriel had to trust that you were ready for this, even if he had his own doubts.
You were so brave, he had thought, watching you stand in front of the River House with a glass dish covered in a gingham cloth, filled with cookies you had baked that morning. When he arrived to pick you up, he found your kitchen in a state of disarray, with flour and sugar spilled everywhere and bowls of mixture left on the counter. Yet there you were, in the corner, brows furrowed as you carefully selected the best cookies from the batch.
“They’re a bit wonky…” you murmured, scrutinising your work. Azriel couldn’t help but feel warmth fill his chest as he watched you pour over your baking. Despite all your fears and worries, you still wanted to impress his family. You wanted to impress them for him.
“They’ll love them” he had reassured you that morning before you both left for the brunch. And he wanted to tell you that again as you glanced nervously at the door of the River House. 
As he moved to place a supportive hand on the small of your back, an unexpected force engulfed him, halting his motion in its tracks. Before he even turned to look, he recognised the voice that seemed to sing his name, while the scent of jasmine filled his senses.
Elain.
Why was Elain here?
Why had his shadows not notified him? 
Perhaps a mishap on his part, he hadn’t thought to send his shadows ahead of the visit to check on the River House. Himself and his little minions, were rather occupied helping you tidy up your kitchen and clear flour from your face before leaving.
His shadows had vanished, as they always did in the presence of Elain. He noticed now, how dramatically different they had always been around her in comparison to how they were with you. Once, he had tried to convince himself that his shadows vanishing in her presence was a positive sign, but now, with sudden clarity, he realised that perhaps they had always known that Elain was never the one for him.
Nesta was quick to pull Elain away, but perhaps not quick enough. The damage may have already been done, judging by the way you looked at him. Moving closer to you, Azriel struggled to find the right words to explain what had just transpired. He could try to brush it off—after all, Elain was Feyre’s sister, and they were all family. But he could sense that you understood enough by the way your eyes flickered over him.
Azriel wanted to whisk you away at that moment, brunch be damned. He felt ambushed, and he was sure you probably did too.
Rhys was quick to intercept his mind.
She only just arrived, I didn’t have the chance to warn you. 
Really brother? Not even a few seconds to spare.
This was bound to happen at some point anyway-
But not today Rhysand, she wasn’t supposed to be here.
I am sympathetic to you brother, I truly am. But we are here now, and it is up to you on how you choose to navigate this.
Azriel was beyond frustrated. This wasn’t how today was supposed to go, and certainly not how he envisioned your first meeting with Elain. With so much left unsaid, he worried that you might jump to conclusions without giving him a chance to explain. 
He observed you closely now, noting every tense muscle, every subtle movement, assessing your comfort level. If you were uncomfortable, he would leave with you immediately, consequences be damned. He couldn’t bear to see you in distress, especially considering the unpredictability of your ability. Despite the progress you had made, he didn’t want to risk putting you in harm’s way. 
But before he could utter a word, you had already changed the subject, retreating into the kitchen.
It seems your mate has chosen how she wishes to deal with today. Will you be on your best behaviour too? 
Azriel shot Rhys a tight glare, but his brother responded with a raised brow and a small smirk. Rhys didn’t particularly relish seeing Azriel in this uncomfortable situation, but they were all family. And if you were to become part of that family, then certain issues would need to be ironed out.
The arrival of his sister in law, had been unexpected. There hadn’t even been a chance to explain to Elain who you were before she had thrown herself into Azriel’s arms. But the reality was that Elain wasn’t going anywhere, she was Feyre’s sister after all. Any unresolved issues between her and Azriel would need to be addressed, but without the disruption of his family that he had worked so hard to build and protect.
He wouldn’t let anyone disrupt that, not Elain, not Azirel and certainly not you.
~~~
The brunch had remained a little tense, particularly noticeable in the subtle glances Elain kept flicking in your direction. Each one made Azriel feel a surge of protectiveness, a desire to shield you from whatever discomfort she might be causing. However your clear attempt to gloss over the unusual introductions from earlier, set a precedent of how everyone else would manage the day.
He observed you carefully throughout, attuned to every nuance of your body language. When he noticed you nervously picking at your nails, his heart clenched with an ache he couldn’t quite shake. The sight of your skin becoming sore and raw made him want to reach out, to tenderly kiss away the anxiety etched into your fingertips. Azriel wasn’t usually one for such displays of affections, but for you he would have dropped to his knees to pressed kisses on your fingers. 
He settled for holding your hand instead.
The lengths you were enduring for his sake weren’t lost on him, and he silently vowed to find a way to express his gratitude.
As you both finally made your exit, Azriel felt a sense of relief wash over him. Enduring Elain's subtle jabs had been infuriating, and he had to restrain himself from snapping back in retaliation. Rhys's voice echoed in his mind, cautioning him against escalating the situation further. He knew that any confrontation would only exacerbate the tension, and there was the risk of triggering your abilities, but it was a struggle to maintain his composure in the face of Elain's provocations.
That spider had been a saving grace. 
No, you had been a saving grace.
You had managed to hold your own, appearing composed and delivering quick comebacks that were both classy and confident. Azriel couldn't help but admire your poise, finding himself drawn to your strength.
But now, in the comforting embrace of your home, he couldn't help but wonder how much of that composure you had left. He wouldn’t blame you if you were running on empty.
He had moved to sit beside you on your sofa, you were curled up to one side as if you were trying to create space between you both.
“Well, that was... interesting,” you finally broke the silence, your tone a mixture of curiosity and apprehension as you glanced at Azriel, seeking his reaction.
Azriel’s response was measured, his hazel eyes betraying a hint of contemplation as he carefully considered his words. “Right. It wasn’t really what I was expecting either,” he admitted, his voice carrying a weight of uncertainty. “I want to explain-”
But before he could continue, you raised your hand, a silent request for him to hold off.
“I’ll be asking the questions,” you spoke, mirroring the same assertiveness he had displayed that night in your apartment when he came challenging you about your little shadow creation.
As if on cue, your own little shadow, which had been hiding within Azriel’s, slinked over to you, curling up by your ear as if eager to share all of Azriel’s secrets with you.
You wanted your little creation beside you now,  it had been created to be just like his own shadows– perhaps a little infatuated with him, but it was meant to be a little spy non the less. And you hoped it would provide you with any intel you might have missed at the brunch.
Azriel watched you carefully as you took a deep breath, sitting yourself up straight, ready to interrogate the Shadowsinger, it seemed.
“Do you love her?” You blurted out, a question he hadn’t anticipated. He was quick to shake his head, realising that this was why he wanted to explain. Everything that had been left unsaid had manifested into false realities in your mind. He couldn’t have you assuming the worst.
“Did you love her?” You asked again, your voice wavering.
“No,” Azriel replied, moving closer to you this time.
Azriel had never considered how his past feelings could ever affect his relationship with his mate. 
Mainly because he never thought he would have one. There was a time when he thought the Cauldron had got it wrong, that Elain was supposed to be his. But he quickly learned how wrong that was. Now, thinking back to that, with you, his mate, sitting beside him, he cursed himself for ever questioning whether the Mother could be wrong.
Because she had been so right. He could feel it in his chest, that golden lifeline connecting him to you. The mere thought of considering anyone else filled him with a sense of shame.
“I think maybe once I thought I was, but I realised that it wasn’t love,” he replied carefully. “At the time, I thought maybe we should be together. Three sisters for three brothers,” Azriel confessed, his voice tinged with a hint of remorse as he cringed at a notion he once believed in.
He thought he saw you physically flinch at the statement too.
“But in all honesty, it was a relationship born out of dependency and comfort.”
He watched you, his gaze locked with yours, wondering if you were truly believing his words. Your head tilted slightly, a gesture of curiosity, while your shadow hovered near your ear. Azriel hoped that your little creation was still whispering praises about him, though he suspected that probably wasn't the case.
“We ended things last year,” Azriel continued, his gaze distant as he recounted the unravelling of their relationship. “And then she went travelling with her mate.”
Ah her travel companion. A piece of the puzzle you hadn’t realised you were lacking at the brunch, that everyone had been aware of.
For her to leave her travels with her mate and come running into the arms of a past lover unsettled you. The intricate web of all of these relationships and family, were binding, overlapping and confusing. You couldn’t help but wonder about the dynamics at play, and what else you still didn’t know.
“She occasionally wrote to me,” Azriel confessed, his voice trailing off. “But I didn’t reply. I realised a while ago that we weren’t right together.”
The weight of his words hung in the air.
“She looked hurt,” you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you reflected on Elain’s expression. Azriel's gaze softened for a moment, noticing your empathy even towards someone who might not deserve it at the moment.
“I think she was shocked,” Azriel admitted. He was once close to Elain. Very close. And understood her in ways others didn’t. “I was always her safety net to fall on.” 
Azriel had spent a lot of time himself, healing and figuring out why they weren’t meant to be, even if Elain hadn’t. “And I don’t think she liked that I wasn’t hers to fall on anymore. Seeing us together was the first time I think she truly realised that.”
He hoped his confession would be enough to soothe any concerns you had, however, he was aware that speaking of such topics was difficult. He couldn't help but imagine how he would feel if he were in your shoes. You hadn't even accepted the bond yet, but he knew that if a past lover of yours had acted the way Elain had, the outcome would have been very different. No amount of composure or training would be able to keep him from retaliating, especially with the mating bond surging on any territorial claims he felt he had.
“I want to apologise,” Azriel spoke. You met his gaze, feeling a flicker of anticipation as you waited for him to continue.
“I probably could have handled today better, but I was worried about escalating the situation– making it worse” He admitted, his voice tinged with regret.
You shook your head, running your hands down your face in frustration. Your little shadow had been carefully listening to Azriel as you had, and it finally seemed ready to share some intel.
Stupid male. 
Stupid…beautiful male.
So beautiful. So so beautiful.
Your shadow huffed playfully into your ear, before it began to chant its usual string of praises, and you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Azriel was looking at you now, a glint in his eye as he observed how you found humour in the midst of this seriousness. 
He wondered if he had missed something, were you testing him?
As if understanding before he did, his own shadows quickly moved closer to you. Recognising the softness in your voice as forgiveness. They wrapped their way around your wrists, cool tendrils soothing you while some playfully tugged your own shadow into an embrace.
“It’s okay Az” You smiled tightly “We hadn’t discussed this prior. To be honest, past relationships are something I’ve actively been avoiding speaking with you about.”
You couldn’t deny that there was a part of you that really didn’t want to know about all the females and males he had most likely taken to bed before you were in his life. As his mate, it was information you were actively avoiding. 
Azriel raised a brow, sensing there might be more to your words than met the eye.
“Oh, don’t worry, Shadowsinger,” you continued, injecting a touch of playful sarcasm. “No past lovers of mine will be joining us for any brunches or family gatherings”
He chuckled lightly at your jest, before speaking again “I know it’s not ideal.”
“It’s not. But we’ll figure it out,” you replied, determination lacing your words. “And I guess if we’re really laying everything out there. There’s something I should probably tell you…”
Azriel's brows furrowed in curiosity as he listened attentively, waiting for your confession.
"I... uh... well, you know that spider?" you began hesitantly, feeling a rush of embarrassment flood through you.
"The one that fell on Elains face?" Azriel asked, his expression turning more serious as he recalled the earlier events.
"Yeah, that one," you confirmed, feeling a nervous laugh bubbling up. "It was... um... me."
Azriel's eyes widened in surprise, his features flickering between astonishment and confusion.
"From your mind's eye?" he asked, his voice tinged with both surprise and concern.
You nodded, feeling a rush of embarrassment at admitting your impulsive act. "Yeah..."
Before Azriel could respond, you found yourself blurting out explanations in a rapid stream of words. "I know it wasn’t very mature of me, it was a moment of weakness…I just wanted her to shut up…and the spider. It was so clear in my mind, and then it was there above her, and then on her face…and then under her foot–”
Azriel's expression shifted, his furrowed brow now reflecting a mixture of understanding and concern. The nosebleed. There was a moment where he was so sure you were in pain, but it had flitted away as quickly as it came, and he concluded the blood running from your nose was from glasses of wine you had been drinking. "It hurt you...when she killed the spider" he muttered, connecting the dots between your ability and the consequences it had on you.
You nodded again, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders now that you had confessed. "Yeah, I was being slack. I should have anticipated that…" you admitted, offering Azriel a sheepish smile.
Azriel's expression softened as he moved closer to you, his hands gently cupping your face with a tenderness that spoke volumes. Concern etched lines into his features as he examined you, his eyes darting over every inch of your face as if searching for any sign of lingering pain or discomfort.
He couldn't help but feel a surge of protectiveness towards you, wanting nothing more than to shield you from any harm that may come your way.
“Azriel, I’m fine. I just need to be more careful next time” You assured him with a reassuring smile. But Azriel wasn't entirely convinced, his fussing taking on a playful yet determined tone.
"Just gotta make sure you're all okay and nothing hurts anymore..." he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple. 
Your eyes fluttered shut as his lips made contact with your skin, heat flushing your face as his attentive touches continued.
“Az…” you breathed. But he didn’t stop. Moving his lips to your other temple he left a trail of light kisses, followed by your forehead and then your nose. 
“I’ve got to make sure my love” he purred that nickname that so effortlessly rolled off his tongue. 
You allowed him to fuss, his lips moving tenderly across your face, his shadows offering their gentle caress. You weren't sure how long you let him do it, but after a final kiss on your lips—one you eagerly returned—you both made your way to your bedroom, finding solace in each other's arms and the embrace of tangled sheets.
"So, Shadowsinger, any other complicated relations in your family I should know about?" you asked playfully.
Azriel chuckled awkwardly, his expression betraying a hint of discomfort.
"Seriously, Az?!" you exclaimed in disbelief.
He cringed, offering another uneasy laugh as he pondered the best way to broach the subject of Mor and Cassian. But before he could even begin, you grabbed a nearby pillow and jokingly smothered his face with it.
"You lot are a handful" you teased, "I'm not sure I want to be a part of this family."
Azriel's muffled laughter resonated beneath the pillow as he playfully wrestled it away from his face.
Despite the awkwardness and the lingering knowledge of past relationships, you felt a comforting tug in your chest—the undeniable pull of the mating bond. 
~~~
Rhysand found Amren nestled amidst a pile of books and scrolls in the library, her sharp eyes scanning through ancient texts with fervour. Dropping some documents onto the table in front of her, he spoke, his tone tinged with frustration, "Nothing in the family records."
"I told you. You wouldn't find anything there. They've always been the discrete type, preferring to keep to themselves, slipping through the cracks" Amren murmured, her gaze fixed on a page from a large, weathered tome titled Legends of the Forgotten Realms, its faded cover adorned with intricate engravings depicting mythical creatures and ancient fae.
Rhysand leaned closer, peering at the page to absorb the information Amren had unearthed. With furrowed brows, he read over the intricate script, his mind grappling with the unfamiliar symbols and syntax. "So you think she's this?" he inquired, gesturing to the description in the ancient text.
"There's really only one way to find out," Amren replied cryptically, a glint of determination in her eyes.
~~~
Next Part >>
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lialacleaf · 9 months
Text
To Care For A Woman
Chapter 1
Simon Riley x Reader
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Summary: You join the army as a last-ditch effort to avoid destitution, but when you sustain an injury protecting Lieutenant Ghost and earn yourself a medical discharge, you're stuck all over again. Or maybe not... Warnings: Tension, Simon wants to care for you, small reader, a little bit spicy but not NSFW, man worrying about a woman's safety, typical cannon violence, deception I'm sorry it's unedited...
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8
Simon's POV
A fear tactic. That's what Johnny called it. The infamous Ghost. The Reaper of The Night. The man, myth, and legend that was coming to act as a vengeful reaper and mercilessly take the lives of those who got in his way.
His reputation preceded him. A reputation he never intended to have. The point was never to be something for others to fear. A Ghost couldn't be seen. A Ghost couldn't be touched. Most importantly, a Ghost couldn't be hurt. Simon was safe if he was dead.
Until he wasn't.
You were just some stupid rooky who joined the army so they'd pay for your college tuition. You had the same sob story most people did. No money, no marital prospects, and not enough education to obtain a job that would sustain you in a struggling economy. No one was coming to save you, so you made a decision to save yourself.
"Mom and Dad were barely making things work financially, I couldn't be a burden anymore," you explained once as you sat next to Soap in the helicopter, your head barely reaching the shoulders of the men and women you were seated around.
It made Ghost's stomach drop, no, Simon's stomach. You were fragile and had no business having that battle rifle in your small, soft hands. People like you were supposed to have options. At least Simon believed so.
How was he supposed to give you orders as if he didn't know you had a higher chance of not making it back? He just wanted to leave you on base, wrapped up in bubble wrap for good measure. When he looked into your eyes there was still a softness there, a feminine light that hadn't been beaten out of you just yet. The idea of seeing it vanish terrified him. It made his chest ache.
You didn't need to know that however, and as far as anyone knew, Lieutenant Ghost despised you. He told you to secure the landing zone for when they got back or left you behind to keep watch on every mission possible. You were convinced the large, masked man saw you as a disgrace to the 141 and was embarrassed to have such a small fry on his team. At least that was the gossip you picked up here and there. He didn't want you to see any action, that much was clear.
"You're up late."
Simon glanced in your direction as he stirred the honey in his tea, his grip on the chipped mug, the porcelain stained on the inside from many years of holding hot coffee, tightening ever so slightly. You were seated in one of the kitchen chairs, legs folded in on yourself as you sipped at your own steaming mug.
He didn't respond and went about dumping his tea bag in the wastebasket. He needed to not look at you in your soft leggings that hugged your figure with that baggy 141 sweatshirt that despite being a size small was still too big for you. You'd be swallowed whole in his clothes, and that was a sight that a very primal part of his brain wanted to see.
There was something about you being so delicate that made him want to press his lips against the curve of your jaw and tell Price to go to hell for not assigning you more office work instead of sending you out with his men.
He had to keep his mind in his upstairs brain, however, lest he risk your life and others in the field. He wouldn't be responsible for you getting hurt.
"I'm sorry," you said all of a sudden.
"What for?" he didn't look up from his mug as he took a sip.
"For being...being a liability that you have to plan for."
He let out a tired sigh. "What happened to going to college?" he disregarded your apology.
"What?"
"Heard you tell Soap you joined the army so you could get into college, that clearly never happened."
You coughed awkwardly. "I got a little lost along the way." You didn't know what to study. Didn't know where to apply. Didn't know what you really wanted out of it other than a career that would make you money. "The 141 offered me a good salary, no need to waste tax dollars on a degree I wouldn't even know what to do with."
You shouldn't have to worry about that sort of thing. You should have someone taking care of all of that so you could read books, go on walks, and grow a garden. You didn't seem like the type who worked because they wanted to, you did it because you had to.
The part of Simon that had watched his mother go to work grueling hours at the local diner just to support his father's addictions hated that. The part of him that had watched her slowly lose her feminine glow and replace it with withered steel to accommodate the survival of herself and her boys stung. He wasn't supposed to feel this hurt. He was supposed to be a Ghost. But the overwhelming urge to care for you was making that difficult.
He set his tea down on the counter and let out a huff as he approached you. Your hair was wet, and you had clearly just come from the shower. He suspected you showered later to avoid the others, specifically the men.
And boy did that thought have him grinding his teeth. If you were his woman, you'd be using his own private quarters to clean up. No prying eyes, not even his own.
"What would you have done if none of that was of any concern?" he asked, and you let out a soft little laugh.
"You'd have me anywhere but here, huh?" you said with a raised brow.
Simon tilted his masked face downward to pin you with a stare that made you swallow thickly, brown eyes boring into your own.
He'd have you dolled up in his cabin back home doing whatever the hell you pleased, painting pretty pictures, baking sweet bread, he bet you would like riding horses too.
"I'd have you safe, y/n."
He didn't say another word to you as he turned around, picked up his mug, and left you to watch him go with wide eyes.
~
He didn't want to take you on the mission, but Price said they needed someone small enough to sneak in through the warehouse's ventilation system and gather intel.
Price told him not to worry, and that you were a clever girl. That didn't ease his mind in the slightest. He had the scope of his sniper trained on the building, watching for any alarming movement.
"Confirmed intel on the location of the arms dealer and their client, ready to regroup, L.T.?" you whispered into your radio.
"Affirmative, meet us at evac," he replied, motioning for Soap to follow him. The other soldiers under his command had been circling the warehouse from a distance, looking for any sign of trouble. He had just about allowed his shoulders to relax when the alarms started.
Ghost whipped his head around as a slew of curses left Soap's lips. "What'd the little lass do now?" he muttered, but Ghost didn't hear him, having already taken off towards the warehouse.
He was already planning how he was going to chew you out for not being careful enough when he saw trucks approaching in the distance. It wasn't you that set the alarms off, it was some rag-tag terrorist group on their way to rob the warehouse. And you were going to be right in the middle of it.
"L/N! What's your status?" he demanded over the radio. His men were already being pulled into the firefight. It wasn't until he was nearing the warehouse that he finally had eyes on you, your small form crouched behind a stack of crates.
"L/N, Move!" he shouted, providing you with enough cover to make a run for the evac. He watched as you took off, running as fast as your small legs could carry you. He was so distracted with you that the sting of the bullet in his shoulder came as a shock.
Seconds later he was knocked to the ground, by a kick to the back of his leg, and a strained grunt left his chest. His head snapped up as his attacker stood above him, prepared to finish him off with a bullet between his eyes.
But then he stopped, and Ghost's eyes narrowed at the sound of running feet slamming against the ground. He felt his heart sink watching you throw yourself at his attacker, knife in hand.
No. It wasn’t going to work. He was bigger than you, and you didn't have a clue what you were doing. You were going to die for him. Because of him. He'd never hated himself more.
He had to watch the man rip the knife from your hand and drive it into your knee, his anger boiling over as his attacker pushed you away as if you were as threatening as a sunflower stalk.
You fell to the ground in a sobbing heap, and that sound alone had Simon reaching for the man's sidearm despite the pain in his shoulder. There was a bullet in his throat before he even noticed that the Lieutenant was no longer lying flat on his back.
"L.T.? Where are you? Evac is here?" Soap's voice chimed over the radio, but Ghost ignored him as he hefted your small form into his arms.
"Shh shh, hold on f' me now. Done so good so far. Gotta finish the mission," he murmured as he squeezed you against his chest. "M' not leavin' you here," he promised, trudging towards the evac site.
"L.T.?" Soap tried once again, but Ghost didn't answer. It was too much to think, too much to hit the button on his radio as he tried to hold you in a manner that wouldn't make you cry out in pain.
"Almost there, love."
AN: Let me know if you'd like to be tagged! Next chapter will be in Reader's POV!
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trashogram · 2 months
Text
He Chose You (Pt.1)
Lucifer/Reader
Hazbin Hotel AU where Lilith never existed, Lucifer has been lonely for over a millennia and Charlie will be born one way or another. Rated E for explicit sexual content of the raunchiest variety in later chapters and also weird old people.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11
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There was a knock at your door. It sounded like someone rapping their knuckles against the wood whimsically, as if following the beat of a song you couldn’t hear.
The methodical folding of your clothes into garage sale-quality drawers came to a halt. You looked over your shoulder, shifting on your feet hesitantly.
It had been little over a week since you moved into the grand old Donner apartment. Apart from a quick tow-in of shoddy furniture from your hired movers, no one had come calling. 
You definitely weren’t expecting anyone either, not in a brand new city you’d spontaneously decided to live in.
After another moment of uncertainty, you pivoted to the door and inched it open to a slit you could peek through. “Hello?”
Your brow furrowed as you stared at the empty space ahead of you. Pulling the door open fully, you peered down one end of the hallway to the other. 
Nothing but cracked and crumbling crown moldings on wainscoting, a matted-looking saxony carpet, the same musty, stale air…
‘Quack’
You nearly jumped out of your skin, head snapping down to see a real, live duck standing just outside your doorframe. 
“Oh!”
     You immediately squatted down to marvel at the animal. It gazed back up at you with beady red eyes and a curious gait. 
“Hey little guy,” You cooed, smiling despite the incongruous image of a waterfowl in your building.
You raised a hand and reached out slowly, instinctive desire to pet the cute little creature warring with a minuscule yet no less embarrassing fear. 
Were ducks typically friendly? You knew so little, ornithology not being your thing. 
“Will you let me pet you?” Your fingers hovered over the surprisingly patient animal before it decided to nudge itself under your palm.
The duck shivered with delight at your touch, all-white feathers ruffling excitedly and tail wagging, looking akin to a very happy dog. 
“Oh my god.” You gasped, heart melting. “You’re so cute!”
Soft feathers brushed against your bent knees as the duck drew close enough to rub its body against you. It had gone from doggish to cat-like effortlessly, and you couldn’t help giggling over how silly it looked.
“Where did you come from?” You asked after a bit of cuddling, glancing from side to side once again. The hallway remained empty, no one running to fetch what you assumed was a beloved pet. 
     ‘That’s… weird.’ You thought. ‘So, who knocked on my door?’ 
It was tempting to ask the bird that was currently bouncing on its webbed feet. You couldn’t help but snort with laughter before positioning yourself so that you were sitting. In an instant, the duck made to climb into your lap, allowing you to carefully lift it onto your legs when it couldn’t reach. 
“You’re so silly!” Grinning, you continued to stroke its head. “Your owner is probably worried sick about their silly little guy.” 
‘Quack’ 
The duck burrowed its head against your stomach as it settled on your lap, and you sighed. “I’d love to keep you, but I don’t know how to take care of you, sweetie.” 
Little red eyes bore into you from below, seemingly wide and beseeching. It was too precious, and too perfect (to the point where you idly wondered if someone was somehow scouting a way to scam you via adorable duck shenanigans).
Aside from the guttural, sad ‘wek’ you got in reply, a slow creak of hinges drew your attention back up. The door across from you had visibly opened the barest amount. You squinted, just able to make out frizzy red hair and a red-rimmed, down-turned mouth in the dim lighting. 
“Oh hey, hi!” You stopped yourself from standing, instead of bracing the bundle in your lap close. “Is this your duck?”
A tingle went up your spine as the door opened fully and an old woman appeared. She was dressed in green capri pants and a ruffled tan blouse, hair red as an open flame and barely kept in-check by a cheetah-print scarf. The makeup she wore was caked on, harsh red lipstick smeared around her thin lips and black kohl-rimmed eyes popping out of her wrinkled face. 
The sour, almost suspicious look on her face softened but did not completely go away, even when she smiled.
“Oh Lou!” She cried, making you jump. “You didn’t get very far, did you? I almost didn’t notice you were gone, you little scoundrel!”
“Well, thank goodness for that I guess. He’s got those little legs, ya see,” She nodded down at your lap, “but he’s so darn fast anyway, might as well be a midget racehorse!”
You chuckled and smiled politely. That persistent tingling at your back had you holding back a shiver, and the skin on your arms prickled and rose. 
“I didn’t know we could have pet ducks in this building.” Your words belied a confidence, as well as interest in having a conversation with this woman, that you didn’t truly have. 
As a matter of fact, despite the inner scolding you gave yourself for being judgmental, you were quite off-put in the woman’s presence. The want to return to your apartment and shut the door in her overly-painted face was rising like a lump in your throat. 
“He seems to really like you, that’s so sweet. He’s not usually this friendly with anyone but my hubby. That’s Mr. Farrow, honey, have you met him?” The woman - presumably Mrs, Farrow, leaned down just a few feet away. 
She still looked to be examining you and your avian companion, the bland pleasantness oozing yet unable to suffocate the shrewd glint in her dark eyes. 
“Oh, uh, no. I’m afraid I haven’t -” You started. 
“Oh, that’s alright! That’s fine! Matter of fact, he’d get an earful from me if he was talkin’ to a pretty thing like you without me knowin’!” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Just kiddin’, honey. You’re new to the building though, aren’t you? Well, welcome! It’s nice to see a new face here! ‘Specially a young one!” 
“Thank —”
“Maybe that’s why Lou is so taken with you! Animals just thrive off energy and sunshine and all that. Not slow, almost dead things. I’m sure you’re birds of a feather that way.” 
Again, your soft laughter is polite, teetering on nervousness. 
You took a moment to rise, humming apologetically when Lou squawked as he was jostled. On your feet, you instinctively stepped back. One foot over the threshold and solid in your apartment. 
“He is really sweet.” You said, holding the animal out as carefully as you could. “I’m glad he didn’t get lost.”
Mrs. Farrow stared, arms falling to her sides. She didn’t attempt to take the bird from you for a long, long moment. 
Confusion and disbelief clouded your mind as you stood, waiting, watching as Mrs. Farrow’s throat bobbed when she swallowed forcefully. 
What? Was she afraid of the duck?
In a split-second, she returned to smiling animatedly and waved a geriatric hand in the air so flippantly that the uncomfortable moment ceased to exist. 
“Oh honey, you can put him down if you want. He’ll come back over now that our door’s open.” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Lou’s not my biggest fan. He’s such a prideful thing, you know. Just like Mr. Farrow - it’s probably why they get along so well!”
You blinked, then slowly bent at the waist to let Lou down. The duck made another disdainful quack, red eyes looking at you morosely. 
It’s little legs eventually rowed through the air in an effort to gain footing. You lightly placed him over the carpet and let go, allowing Lou to jump down. 
The duck began waddling away, though it appeared to hang its head as it did so. Occasionally, he turned to look at you, somber and sullen as if bidding farewell before walking on death row. 
“Aww, poor little thing.” Mrs. Farrow drawled. At your side. “Looks like my Lou is sweet on you! Poor guy, I can see why! Again, a lovely young thing like you is probably a gift from above in this stuffy old place.” 
“Say, how long have you been here?” 
You turned to the old woman. “About a week, I’m still getting settled.”
Mrs. Farrow nodded vigorously, eyes bright but mouth pursed. “A week, a week?! A week and no one’s introduced themselves to you?”
“Holy Toledo, you must think we’re all a bunch a’ snobs in here! That’s no good. Oh! Why don’t you come over for dinner sometime and me and my mister can show you some proper hospitality?” 
“Oh, that's really nice of you —” 
“Sure! Sure! It’ll be great, how ‘bout tomorrow night? It’d give us some time to get prepared, have things cleaned and settled. Do you like steak? That’d be perfect, actually. I’ve got some in the freezer just waitin’ to be defrosted.”
“Um, well — That’s a little short notice…”
“I’m sure Mr. Farrow won’t mind. He’ll be glad for the company, and if he isn’t, well he will be when I’m done with him.” She chortled. “Just another joke, honey. He’s always dyin’ to talk to someone that isn’t me. It’d be a real treat to him. Treat ta me too! What do you say?”
Your mouth opened and closed as a light sheen of sweat broke over the nape of your neck. Mrs. Farrow’s sharp eyes were wider, attempting to beguile you while your head was still spinning. 
“I-I guess, maybe —” You stammered.
“Wonderful!” The eccentric woman’s eyes lit up like fireworks, cigarette-smoker’s voice becoming truly raucous in her delight. “I’ll go ahead and get started. You go get back to what it was you were doing before Lou and I interrupted you! And don’t worry about a thing! We might be old timers, but a good meal and good cheer never go out of style.” 
Mrs. Farrow laughed, pretending to shoo you away until you were back inside your apartment and she was pulling your door to a close for you. 
“Have a good night, honey! We’ll see you tomorrow! 6 o’clock, don’t be late!”
Before you knew it, you were staring at the back of your own door again. 
‘What the fuck just happened?’
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kamiversee · 1 month
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➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
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✧.* CHAPTER 8 || The Act of Manipulation
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[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?
[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language & angst.
[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 3k
[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.
[ [ chapters mlist } ]
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——AS THE TWO OF YOU MAKE OUT,  he walks you back over to his bed and lays you down-- perfectly proving your point that with him it's never just a kiss.
His larger body presses into your own and you feel his hands sliding down to lift his shirt off you. Gojo then pulls away from your lips for a second to whisper to you, "I have class in an hour." He murmurs.
You grin, "Then we should stop."
Gojo kisses your bottom lip and then moves to your cheek, "Don't wanna."
Your hands unconsciously move to play with the back stands of his hair, "You should start getting ready."
"But I kinda," He kisses under your neck, "...wanna eat you out," Gojo says suddenly.
You flinch a little, "You don't have time for that, Satoru."
He smiles against your skin, "Yeah I do."
"No, you don't."
A grumble is felt against you and Gojo pulls up from your body. His eyes are full of admiration while he looks at you. The man falls quiet but he seems to have given in on your protest.
After a while of staring at you, Gojo lets out a sigh. "You should come with me," He suggests.
Your eyebrow raises in confusion, "Come with you... where?"
"To class." He says casually as he slides off the bed, leaving you lying there.
You laugh at his casualty, "I can't just come to class with you."
"Sure you can," Gojo argues as he heads into his closet, "You're a psychology major right?" he calls out.
You blink. "...How did you know that?"
"I asked Shoko a long time ago," He responds, leaving his closet with a shirt in his hands, "But anyways, you can use that as an excuse."
"How...?"
"If my professor asks why you're there, which he probably will, you can just say you came with me for a project you're working on."
"Okay," You nod along. It's not a bad plan, you've actually done that before with some of Shoko's classes and it's worked for you. "But why am I doing all of this anyway...?"
"Well," Gojo pulls his shirt over his head, "Two of the people on the list are in that class and you can meet both of them."
You perk up, "Really, who?"
"You won't know them by their names."
"Okay, well just tell me their names and which face it goes with."
"Well, for starters... I maybe should've told you this sooner but," He sighs and looks away from you, "You have to seduce my professor."
You choke on air, "I'm sorry, what?!?"
Gojo sends you an innocent little smile as if that'll make up for the information he's just given you, "In my defense, I didn't mean for his kid to break his leg."
"W-What?"
"That's the thing I owe him for. See, I babysit from time to time, and uh, his kid broke his leg on my watch..."
"And now you want me to sleep with him to make up for your mistake? That makes no fucking sense, Gojo." You snap.
He winces, "Aw, don't be mad at meeee. It was an accident, truly. And uh... Well, I have a bit of a reputation for getting people hook-ups."
"Right so lemme just, put all this together." You huff. Your hands move to message your temples to prevent the oncoming headache, "You babysat his kid, the kid broke his leg, and now you owe your professor something. Which, according to you, means that you owe him... a date with someone?"
"Nope, I owe him a quick fuck with someone."
"How did you even..." You scoff, "How the hell did you two agree on that kinda thing?? And what the fuck were you gonna do if you couldn't blackmail me into this shit?"
He scratches the back of his head, "You sound angry..."
"I am!" You huff, "Can't he get fired for sleeping with a student?! A-And can't I get kicked out???"
"Don't get caught."
"Gojo, I swear to god, I'm gonna fucking kill you."
He frowns and gives you a pleading look, "C'mon, all you have to do is-"
"No, stop that. Don't all you have to do is fuck him, because that's not all I have to do. I have to put my dignity aside and approach a professor like some kinda needy little whore for your sake!" You yell at him, causing the man to tense up where he stands.
Gojo doesn't exactly like seeing you upset with him, "See, I could understand your best friend, and maybe anyone else who's not a teacher. But god damnit, do you know how insane this all sounds?" You ask.
The air goes quiet and Gojo is unsure how to respond to that.
Your glare is continuous and you decide to keep rambling since he won't respond, "A professor, Satoru." You emphasize, trying your best to make him understand that this is crazy. "Are you seriously gonna force me to do this...? C-Can't you just delete that video of me? T-Then, maybe, I'll still help you with the list but..."
The man notices you're on the verge of tears, clearly overwhelmed by all the shit you'll have to put up with because of him.
"I can't fuck a teacher." You mumble.
Gojo grits his teeth. "I don't want to force you to do this-"
"Then don't! Delete the video and leave me the fuck alone!!" You shout.
"I can't."
"Why the hell not?!"
Because once that video is gone, there is no excuse he'll have to be around you.
And yeah, it's fucked up, he knows that. But deleting the video means two things; one, he has no more leverage over you and can't force you to help him with the hole he's dug for himself. And two; well, if you don't sleep with his teacher, he'll fail the class.
"Because," Gojo says carefully, slowly walking over to you. He approaches the bed and stands right in front of you, ignoring the glare you're giving him. "I need you." He whispers.
You stare back and forth between his left and right eye for a minute. Why does your heart feel all weird? It's not like he means he romantically needs you. He just wants to use you. For all you know, Gojo will be quick to discard you after all this is over.
That very thought only pisses you off even more and you end up raising a hand up and shoving him away from you. You then stand and stomp away, toward his bedroom door. "You don't need me Gojo, I'm not an idiot. You just want to use me. Fucking asshole." You squeak out with your hand on the doorknob.
Gojo is quick to rush over to where you are and lean over you, pressing a hand to his door to keep it shut. "I know that's what I'm doing but I'm serious..." He murmurs, dropping down to rest his forehead on your shoulder, "You're my only option right now."
"Delete the video."
"I told you, I can't."
"Then, y'know what..." You turn around and face him, causing his head to rise from your shoulder and his eyes to meet your angered ones. "Post the video. Go ahead, slut shame me and make the rest of my life a living hell." You say with teary eyes.
Obviously, you don't want him to do that but somewhere deep down inside you hope he'll give in and just-
"Alright," Gojo says.
You blink.
"I'll post it." He says lowly, the look in his eyes suddenly dark. Gojo leans down to you and you back into the door, "Then, I'll send it to everyone I know. After that, I'll make sure to tell everyone about it. I want the whole school to see what a fucking slut you are. And if that's not enough, Suguru has a video of you from last night so, I'll make sure everyone sees that as well."
You're heart sinks and nothing but sheer fear is reflected in your eyes. You're about to cry and you can't believe this is the same man who sometimes acts like he can hardly live without you. This can't be the same man who was all playful with you earlier that morning, right?
Oh wait... that's right. You nearly forgot; you and Gojo don't have that kind of relationship. You never did. He's just using you for his benefit. He's an asshole, something you start to realize will never change.
All those loving looks he gave you, those stupid compliments and those dumbass tender touches were all fake. It was all to trick you into trusting him and this is where it got you-- right back where you started, cowling in fear of the man exposing you and ruining your future.
"I hate you." You croak out, tears dripping down from your eyes.
Gojo has to try with his soul to ignore the way your words pain his heart. He has to shove down the urge to take it all back and apologize, to just drop to his knees and beg you to forgive him, and to simply stop you from crying like this.
A shaky breath leaves his lips but he just barely manages to maintain the threateningly serious look in his eyes. Mentally Gojo utters an I'm sorry but, the only thing you hear from him is a low, "I know, sweetheart. I know..."
You turn your head away from him and aggressively wipe the wetness from your face, "You're... an asshole. S-So fucking evil. Even satan would be nicer to me," You bable.
His expression softens, "You don't mean that-"
"I do." You say, turning to him once more, "I really do. You're the worst, Gojo. The fucking worst. After this stupid ass list, I want you to delete that video of me and never even think about me again, okay?"
"I..."
"I'm serious. No matter how much you apologize for it, no matter how much you beg, I will never forgive you for putting me through this shit." You spat. Then, you move to push him away.
Gojo allows himself to stumble back and he doesn't know what to say or any way he can fix this.
You go for the door again and pause to say one last thing, "If it's not for this dumbass list, don't text me, don't call me, don't ask about me, and again, don't even fucking think about me." You say finally before exiting.
The door slams behind you and Gojo is simply frozen. He knows he fucked up. He knows he shouldn't be doing this. Part of him wants to stop but it's like it all just got serious. As said before, in the beginning, everything with you just happened out of pure coincidence.
He never meant to record you and he still has no plans on ever exposing anything about you anywhere. But, only he knows that. Even his threat now was another bluff. The only thing Gojo really needs is for you to satisfy the people he owes.
It's selfish of him and seriously fucked up but, he's said it before and he'll say it over and over again-- you're all he has. He made promises to everyone on that list, promises of delivering a woman to them at some point, and of course, he couldn't convince anyone he knew to do such a thing.
So again, the situation with you just happened to be a coincidence.
The problem is that Gojo hates that it's you. He hates that you're the one he ended up doing this to. "Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuuuuck!" Gojo curses, gripping the phone in his hand before throwing it across the room.
There's no one he can be mad at aside from himself, he knows that too. His heart is thrumming in his chest, the sound of you claiming to hate him and that feared look in your eyes embedded into his brain. He'll never be able to forget that.
Meanwhile, you refused to let yourself be mentally manipulated into thinking he might've actually cared about you at some point. As you left the room, you spotted Geto in the kitchen. He heard nearly everything and isn't sure what to say to you.
You give him no words, only glaring at him as you walk over to the living room and find your dress from the night prior neatly folded up on the couch. You don't even care if Geto can see as you snatch Gojo's shirt off your body and change.
After that, you move over to the front door and messily put your shoes back on. Geto quietly watches you, wondering if he should say something.
You don't want him to. Hell, you don't want to hear a word from anyone. The most you want to do right now is go home and cry about the stupid situation you got yourself into.
Aside from Gojo, you blame yourself too. You should've had your damn bedroom door closed. You know you didn't expect anyone to come in, especially not Gojo but, still, it should've been closed.
The second you get your shoes on and reach for the door, you can hear Gojo coming out of his room.
Your head turns back and you see him standing in the hallway. "Oh yeah, the price? Doubled. I want four thousand for every person."
"You can't just-"
"I can, and I just did. That also includes what I just did with the two of you," You say, gesturing toward both men. "You owe me four thousand, Gojo."
The man utters your name in response, trying to get you to... stay? Wait? Listen to him? He doesn't even know.
"Don't." You whisper. "Don't try to fix this because you can't. I'm going home. Come... pick me up whenever you're ready." You sigh before opening the door and leaving.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
The apartment is left in silence and Geto is standing there a bit confused. After a few minutes, he speaks, "Go after her, idiot."
"You don't get it, Suguru. I fucked up." The man groans as he moves to walk into the kitchen.
His roommate shrugs, "We all fuck up sometimes. She'll forgive you eventually."
"Running after her won't fix what I just said to her."
"Maybe not." Geto agrees, "But, it'll show her you hold some kinda compassion for the situation you put her in."
Gojo rolls his eyes, "What are you, a therapist now?"
"No, I'm a man with common sense. I mean, seriously... You're gonna make her seduce everyone you owe?"
"...You heard that, huh?"
"Yeah." Geto says, shaking his head, "That's fucked up-"
Gojo grows annoyed with hearing those words, "I know! I know it's fucked up-"
"Do you? Do you understand how bad that actually is?" Geto argues, "Satoru, I don't mean to put salt on the wound but, you can't expect for her to ever understand how you feel about her after this."
Gojo doesn't reply to that.
"And, did I hear you say you wanted her to sleep with your professor?" His best friend asks.
"Yeah..." Gojo says with a lazy nod.
Geto scoffs, "Mr. Fushiguro?"
"Yup."
"Dude, isn't he married?"
"No."
"Okay well," Geto thinks for a second, "Doesn't he hate you?"
Gojo nods, "Yep."
"You really think she'll be able to pull this off for you?" The male asks with genuine concern. "Especially after you just threatened her again?"
"I was lying," Gojo admits.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, for one, you didn't record her last night-- I just told her you did. And secondly, I deleted my video of her the day after I got it."
Geto's face twists up in shock, "...Are you serious?? So, what happens when she finds out??"
"She won't." His friend murmurs, taking a seat at the kitchen island.
"How?"
"Cause' by the time she gets close to figuring that out, I'll have other stuff to blackmail her with."
"Wow, didn't know I was friends with a madman," Geto responds, clearly disappointed with his friend. "That's kinda low, don't you think?"
Gojo shrugs, "She's all I have."
"Tell her that."
"I did."
"Then tell her you deleted the video a long time ago. After that, try begging her to keep helping you, I'm pretty sure I heard her say she would." His friend advises.
"She won't fuck a teacher unless she's being threatened to so, after that... I'll..." Gojo trails off for a second. He's afraid that by that point the truth won't help him. "I'll tell her the truth."
"Really?" Geto asks, clearly not believing him.
He hesitates for a second before uttering a simple, "Y-Yeah."
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
With that, Gojo has to mentally prepare himself to do such a thing. Are you even going to help after that? Probably not...
As he thinks about this, he eventually leaves Geto in the kitchen to go fetch his phone. When he gets the device, he notices he cracked it but shrugs it off. Gojo is quick to have that increased four thousand sent to you, gritting his teeth as he does so.
I hate you. Fuck, those words won't leave him alone. You were so serious too. And to think he just had you in his arms, hugging and kissing him, to go and fuck all that up later.
The chances of him repairing this relationship with you are looking very slim to none. You were very clear in saying that you have no plans of ever forgiving him but, maybe, just maybe Gojo can make it up to you.
Does he know how he'll do that? No.
Is that going to stop him from trying? Hell no.
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GOJO SATORU ✔︎
GETO SUGURU ✔︎
TOJI FUSHIGURO ☐
??? ☐
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munson-blurbs · 8 months
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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15
Summary: You and Eddie finally get some much-needed alone time, and a confrontation at the Hawkins Preschool talent show tests your commitment to each other.
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), protected p in v, fingering, oral (m! receiving), lil bit of edging, broken condom, breeding kink, mentions of Eddie's past, bullying, fighting, Jason Carver's mere existence, mostly fluff and smut before the angst of the next two chapters
WC: 9.2k
Chapter 15/20
Divider credit to @saradika Cutie pie Eddie pic credit to @/sunceddie
--
You wake up to an alarm set a full hour later than it typically is on a Friday morning, and the extra rest has you walking on air. Or maybe this newfound floatiness comes from knowing Eddie will be arriving soon, the two of you playing hooky from work to spend the day together. Your insides ignite with a rebellious fire, like you’re skipping class to smoke cigarettes underneath the bleachers, rather than taking a paid sick day that you’ve rightfully accrued.
Sunlight streams through the window, just a bit brighter than the usual smears of pink and orange that you normally see when you awaken. And while you still have to drag your yet-to-be-caffeinated body out of bed, the walk to the bathroom seems slightly less daunting. 
You can’t let Eddie in fast enough when the intercom buzzes thirty minutes later. You were never naïve to the fact that dating a parent would mean having less privacy; what you didn’t know was how strongly you’d crave him. 
Your hands are all over him the moment he steps through the door, simultaneously too much and not enough. Fingers lazily drape across the nape of his neck, and you can feel that his hair is already frizzy from the early April rain. Your breath hitches when you catch a glimpse of the burgeoning outline along the seam of his gray sweatpants. 
His lips find yours easily, aiming to meet in the middle, but you press on your toes and bring your core to his. Your pajama top is thin; not sheer, but flimsy enough that he can feel the way you react to the chill of his leather jacket. 
“Hello to you, too,” he murmurs with a laugh, muffled by a kiss that catches him off-guard. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to grab breakfast first, but—”
You shake your head, grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards the bedroom. “Sex first, food later.”
“Yes ma’am.” He uses his free hand to apply a quick smack to your ass, mesmerized at the way the supple flesh ripples underneath the flannel pants. Jesus, you’ve got him half-hard and you’re still in your pajamas. 
He sits on the side of the bed, and you climb to straddle him, your inner thighs nudging his outer. “Been thinking about you,” you say, tugging his earlobe between your teeth. 
Eddie pulls you even closer, one hand snaking up your shirt to cup your breast. He’s still cold from the rain and early morning frost, and his touch has your nipple pebbling. “What about me?” 
“Well,” you trill, starting to slowly grind against the tented fabric of his pants. He exhales, a shiver of anticipation coursing through his veins. “I believe I promised my rockstar a reward for his amazing gig.” Your thoughts flit back to the night of Will’s party, when you’d snuck backstage and gotten a glimpse of him, his body pulsating with nerves that had almost immediately quelled at your touch. Another sensation had swept over him then, but that was an entirely different type of flutter.
Eddie nudges his nose against yours, a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. “Your rockstar?” He adores the phrasing. Yours. Belonging to you. And you belong to him; he won’t ever allow you to forget it. “What kind of reward did my favorite groupie have in mind?”
You slide off of him, giggling at the pout he gives you as your body loses contact with his. “Patience, Rockstar,” you warn him, though it’s difficult to contain yourself when you’re salivating just being eye-level with his erection. Your fingers dig into his waistband, and for the second time today, you’re glad for his choice of clothing. You don’t think you could handle buttons and zippers and belt buckles. Not today.
He hisses when your palm brushes along his hardened length, stiffening even while covered by his boxer briefs. A small wet patch marks his tip, leaking precum, and you press a chaste kiss to it. Almost instantly, you feel the tendrils of his thigh hair against your bare arms as his legs reflexively snap shut like a Venus flytrap catching its prey. 
“Too much?” you mumble against his happy trail. While you relish in the thought of overstimulating him, you want to keep him on edge as long as you can. 
Eddie shakes his head, curls scratching against his shoulders. “Jus’ wasn’t expecting it. ‘Cause you were using your hands, but then I felt your…never mind, I’m gonna shut up now.” He settles back into the mattress and eagerly awaits your next move.
You don’t make him wait long, lips drawn to his shaft with a magnetic force. You only stop to shimmy his underwear down his legs, tossing them to the corner of the room. His cock is flush against his tummy; you catch yourself staring at the dusting of wispy curls that trail from his upper groin down to his heavy sack. 
Your dominant hand wraps around the base while the other leans on his thigh for balance. You lean in and spit, letting your saliva dribble down his length before flattening your tongue to lick up the pearly bead forming at the tip. Eddie’s abdominal muscles contract and his fists clench, never taking his eyes off of the beautiful woman on her knees for him. 
He lets out a soft moan as you hollow out your cheeks to take more of him into your mouth. A string of syllables that barely resemble words escapes him. “Mmm, yes, oh, sh–fucking hell–thas’ it…” He twists the bedsheets between his fingers, inhaling sharply as your tongue glides up and down his cock. “S’pretty, fuck, gorgeous girl.” He watches intently, staving off blinks so he doesn’t miss a moment of him disappearing between your lips.
He’d once thought that he could never want more than sloppy post-gig hook-ups in dive bar bathrooms with girls whose names he’d never learned, though he wouldn’t have made an effort to remember them anyway. Girls who had only offered their mouths so they could lay claim to his body; the opportunity to brag that they’d blown Eddie Munson before he got famous.
That was before you, before you’d shown him the intoxicating mixture of longing and belonging, of lust and…
You continue drawing him closer and closer to his orgasm, nose grazing his thatch of pubic hair. His hips buck slightly, but your mouth is so full of him that it threatens to evoke your gag reflex. 
“Shit, ‘m sorry,” Eddie blurts out, unfurling a hand from the sheets to cup your cheek. He pulls out, allowing you to take a deep breath. 
You shake your head. “I liked it,” you tease with a wicked grin, wasting no time assuming your previous position. 
“Oh, fuck,” Eddie throws his head back. “You like gagging on my dick? Fucking hell, babe.”
“Mhm.” The gentle vibration has him twitching, and you know he can’t last much longer. You bring your attention to his tip, sucking and giving soft kitten licks while your hand takes care of the rest of his length. He’s so painfully hard that you wouldn’t be surprised if he stayed that way long after finishing. 
“Jus’…just like that. Oh, fuuuuuck,” he groans, silently calling upon every ounce of willpower in his body to keep his pelvis still so he doesn’t disturb the beautiful rhythm you’ve found. “Gonna cum…shit, baby, if you don’t want it in your mouth, you gotta stop now.”
But you do want it in your mouth, so you don’t stop, feeling warm ropes adorning your tongue just seconds later. He’s panting, chest heaving as though he was the one putting in the effort, but he still notices the way you swallow his thick load without missing a beat. 
“Did you just…oh, my God. You’re perfect.” He throws his hands up in mock defeat. “I can’t…nothing I do will ever compare to you, I swear.” He motions for you to lay down next to him, and immediately climbs on top of you, the sweat from his chest transferring to your shirt. “Off,” he mumbles, pulling it over your head before you get the chance to do it yourself.
His lips swoop down to your left breast, tongue flickering over the nipple, and his dominant hand travels into your panties and expertly finds your clit. You let out a tiny whimper, barely audible over Eddie’s own grunts, finding pleasure in making you feel good. 
“This body,” he mumbles, mouth still attached to your chest, “has me in a goddamn chokehold. It’s all I think about.” That isn’t quite true; he certainly spends plenty of time daydreaming of you, though it isn’t always in such compromising positions. Sometimes, you’re sleeping next to him in bed as he presses gentle kisses to the nape of your neck. Other times, he’ll be cooking dinner and picture you passing him the salt or handing him a serving spoon to dish out whatever noodle-based concoction he’s conjured up. Whatever he’s doing, he imagines you by his side. 
“Can you kiss me?” Your request is timid but dripping with need. 
Eddie nods, bringing himself to eye level with you and closing the gap between your faces. You taste of minty toothpaste and of him, and he curses himself for diving in headfirst without remembering to kiss you. “M sorry,” he apologizes for the second time that morning, and you forgive him with a soft bite to his lower lip. 
Your arms rest on his shoulders and your legs wrap around his calf muscles, desperate to remain as close as possible at all times. No, you can’t stay like this forever, so you’ve got to make it count. “Need you inside me, Eddie.” Your voice nearly cracks, tears pricking at your lash line as the craving for him grows stronger. “Please.”
Eddie musters up a terse laugh. “Sweetheart, I just came, like, five minutes ago. You gotta give me a second to bounce back.” He lowers himself so he can whisper in your ear, “let me take care of you while we wait, hm?”
As soon as you nod, he’s yanking down your pajama pants and panties in one fluid motion. You can’t miss the way his eyes light up once you’re fully on display for him, taking in every centimeter of your body like his existence depends upon it. He starts to shimmy his way down, but your murmured “mm-mm” captures his attention.
“Still want you kissing me,” you say, gazing adoringly into his deep brown eyes. “Maybe you could just use your fingers?” 
His instinct is to protest; he’s been desperate to taste you again ever since his tongue last touched the most intimate part of you, but he can’t deny you what you want. He’ll do just about anything to keep a smile on your face.
Without further hesitation, Eddie’s lips are on yours. He braces himself on his elbows as his hands cradle your cheeks. You can feel the heat of his cock, still spent and flaccid, against the top of your thigh. He shifts slightly so he can press one thick finger into your pussy, dragging in and out so deliciously that you barely notice his tongue slipping into your mouth, deepening the kiss as you moan.
“Y’like that?” It’s a gratuitous question; he can feel how much you like it in the way you’re clenching around him. “Gonna make my girl feel s’good.”
“Call me your girl again,” you whine, punctuating the plea with a gentle buck of your hips. 
Eddie grins, ducking his head where your neck meets your collarbone and sucking lightly. It takes every ounce of strength he possesses not to mark you. He studies the moisture left behind by his lips and wishes it was the exquisite shades of blue and indigo that form when someone’s been claimed. 
He slides a second finger inside you. “My sweet girl,” he coos, just a hint of patronization laced within his deep voice, “you like being mine? Belonging to me?”
Your stomach flips at his words; a gnawing hunger for Eddie Munson. “Love it. I…I love being your girl.” You allow your mind to clear, absorbing his gaze, his touch, his skin. The graceful arch of your back beckons him to move faster, tongue peeking from between his plush lips as he concentrates on your orgasm.
Each stroke within you inches you closer to euphoria. Eddie’s thumb is pressed to your clit, cementing his determination to tip you over the edge. He hits all the right spots, committing them to memory; his own personal pathway to the heavens. 
It’s your turn to grab onto the bed sheets like a lifeline as pleasure surges through you. Your lips coat his in a warm layer of “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” the praise a victory chant to him. He waits until your eyelids flutter back open and your breathing steadies before taking his fingers from your center and into his mouth, licking your release off of his skin like a delicacy.
Your body may be splayed out on the bed, but your mind is adrift; its only focus is the float down from the high Eddie’s brought you to. If it weren’t for the throbbing reminder pressed to your leg, you might float right into the atmosphere.
You summon the willpower to prop yourself up on your elbows, watching intently as he fists himself to temporarily ease the ache.
“Why’re you doing that when ‘m right here?” you mumble, wetting your lower lip with a swipe of your tongue. You can only hope that there’s some semblance of a smile in your intoxicated expression. “Unless you…prefer your hand?”
“Fuck, no,” he grumbles, curls dancing along his shoulder blades as he loosens his grasp to dig through your top drawer. He shoves aside stray prescription bottles and various knickknacks that you’ve been meaning to go through until he finds what he’s been looking for.
He snatches up the teal box and practically tears the cardboard in half trying to open it. The snake of foil packets tumbles out and he scrambles for them, but you’re faster.
Wordlessly, you rip off one packet and carefully tear off the top. Eddie hisses as you roll the condom down his hardened length, more than ready to be inside you. 
“Wanna ride you,” you tell him, pressing your palms to his soft pecs. “‘S that okay?” 
“Is that—baby, if I ever say no to that offer, there’s something seriously wrong with me,” he laughs, already laying back on the bed. His hair splays across the pillow, brown curls swirling atop the cotton pillowcase like Van Gogh’s Starry Night. 
Eddie inhales sharply as you sit above him, sheathed cock pressed to your heat in anticipation. He reaches out and grabs your breasts, one in each hand, kneading them in his palms. His thumbs brush over your nipples, gauging your reaction before giving them a small pinch. 
Your moan, coupled with the way you grind against him, confirms your satisfaction, but he still asks, “Y’like when I do that?”
You offer him a little smirk, cocking your brow as you cheekily reply, “You tell me.” 
He doesn’t have time to respond before you lift yourself and gradually sink down onto him, soaking in every moment of the delectable stretch. Bracing yourself on his chest, you feel him bottom out so he’s filling you entirely. 
“Fuck, Sweetheart.” His hands move from your chest to your hips as he helps you adjust to the newfound fullness. “So tight. Feels‘mazing.”
“Just wanna take care of you, Eds. You’re so good to me; I wanna be good to you.” You bounce up and down, moving your hips so no part of your walls remains untouched by him. 
He’s mesmerized at the jiggle of your flesh as it connects with his, momentarily rendering him speechless before he regains some composure. “You are. You’re so, so good for me. Can never get enough of my girl.”
You clench around him at the title ‘my girl’, earning you a smack to your ass. The sting makes you whimper, and he swiftly delivers another. 
“You’re gonna make me cum too soon,” he huffs, blown-out pupils drifting from your eyes to where your bodies are joined. 
You pause your movements to lean down, allowing him impossibly deep within you. “If it’s too much,” you murmur into his ear, hoping your edge-teetering tremble is hidden enough to effectively tease him, “maybe I should just…stop.” You slide your hips forward until only his tip breaches your hole. 
Eddie’s jaw drops in complete disbelief. “You…you can’t fuckin’ do that to me.” You expect him to push the rest of his cock inside you and thrust until he’s completely spent, so you’re caught off-guard when he pulls out entirely. “All fours. Now.” He emphasizes his request with another spank, this one harder than the rest. 
You oblige, palms pressed into the mattress and toes curled as you await him. He taps his shaft against your bottom once, twice, three times, and then plunges into your warmth. 
“Ah—fuck—Eddie!” you cry, feeling the telltale twitch that informs you he’s close. Really fucking close. And then another sensation—a soft pop. 
He realizes what it is before you do. “Fuckin’ condom broke!” he grumbles, pulling out again—even more begrudgingly than before—and tossing the split rubber to the floor. He opens a new one and rolls it on with lightning speed, eager to be enveloped in you once again. 
“Wish we didn’t have to use those,” you mumble, willing yourself to stay steady despite the push from his pistoning hips. “Be so much easier without them.”
Picturing you taking him raw—you wanting to take him raw—is the last straw. “Yeah? You wanna feel all of me, baby?” he growls, nearly inaudible over the sound of his pelvis colliding with your ass. “Want me blowing my load so fuckin’ deep inside you?”
“Y-Yes,” you stammer, feeling that delicate wave approaching the shoreline, desperate to crest. “That’s exactly what I want, Eddie.”
“Keep saying my name,” he orders, wrapping one arm around you so his middle finger lays on your clit. Every part he touches makes you weaker for him, scavenging for the relief of release.
“Eddie, feels s’good,” you moan, legs threatening to crumple beneath you. “No one makes me feel like this ‘cept you, fuck, Eddie!”
You finish around him, squeezing him until he’s spilling into the condom with a primal groan of your name. He stays draped over you for a beat before flopping back onto the bed. 
“You are…” he turns to you and grins as he searches for the right word, “spectacular.” He gingerly removes the barrier from his dick, tying it in a knot and tossing it into the trash can next to your nightstand. “C’mere.” 
You lay on his chest, the sweat cooling as it hits your cheek. “Did you work up an appetite?” you tease, kissing just below his tattoo of a demonic head, “I can grab us some cereal, or we might have some frozen Eggos I could throw in the toaster.”
Eddie smiles so wide it threatens to escape the confines of his cheeks. “Sex and breakfast? You spoil me, Sweetheart.”
“Yeah, well; we need energy to power us through round two.” You scoot upwards to nuzzle into the crook of his neck, the salt of his perspiration tangy on your lips. “Give me a few minutes, okay? Do you like syrup on your waffles?”
“And butter?” he asks with a hopeful smile, peering at you through long eyelashes that would have had you darting to Bradley’s Big Buy if you didn’t already have a stick of Land O’ Lakes in the fridge.
You roll your eyes playfully. “Yes, Your Majesty,” you say, giving his bare thigh a small tap. “Would you also care for some freshly-squeezed orange juice? I can have the chef whip some up right away.”
Eddie throws his head back and laughs, slowly pushing himself up so he can help you in the kitchen. It dawns on him that he hasn’t felt this kind of peace after sex before; his mind has always been clouded with fears of getting too attached, of saying the wrong thing, of deluding someone into thinking he’s enough. 
“God, I love you.” The words tumble out before he can stop them, and he freezes in place, one leg through his underwear. “Fuck, I mean–”
“It’s okay,” you rush to reassure him, noting the red tinge forming on the tips of his ears. “I’d say that to anyone who offered me breakfast foods, too.” You give him room to accept the out, to brush off his confession as a slip of the tongue. There’s no use in awarding merit to an accidental comment, regardless of what your skipped heartbeat tells you.
He considers it, every synapse and neuron firing at warpspeed. Maybe he could convince himself that it was an accident if it was the first time he’d felt this, the way your sunshine radiates through him and warms him from within. But that was far from the truth. 
“No,” he finds himself saying, grasping onto every morsel of confidence he can find, “it’s not because of the food. I love you.” 
Your voice catches in your throat. You want to believe that he’s reciprocating your feelings, but something nags at you. “Are you sure it’s not because we just had sex? Because sometimes that—”
“No,” Eddie repeats himself, unfolding the waistband of his boxer briefs and walking to you. “Because it wasn’t about sex when you calmed me down after the parent-teacher conference. It wasn’t about sex when you taught Harris how to read and bowl and be a better person than I’ll ever be. It wasn’t about sex when you cheered me on during our last gig, and it wasn’t about sex when I saw you holding Ettie.” He takes a deep breath and holds your hands as he gazes into your eyes. “And even after having sex, it isn’t about sex. It’s about you being the one for me. I love you, I love you, I love you.” He kisses your forehead, then your cheek, and finally your lips. 
“I love you, too, Eddie.” 
Just five words, six syllables, and he’s a goner. Seriousness melts into a sappy smile as he cradles your cheeks and presses the tip of his nose to yours. “Holy shit, we’re in love.”
You kiss him, tongue nudging his as your torsos meld together. If your stomach wasn’t gnawing for something to eat, you’d start round two right then and there. 
Throwing on just a shirt and panties, you lead him into the kitchen before either of you can crawl back into bed. His hands never leave your body, snaking around your waist as you rifle through the freezer for the familiar yellow box. His head rests on your shoulder as you drop the waffles into the toaster and press the lever down.
“Eds?”
“Yes, my love?” he murmurs, pecking a soft kiss behind your ear. You both could have sworn that there was nothing better than him calling you ‘my girl,’ but you’re unashamed to stand corrected.
“Could you make yourself useful and grab some plates? Maybe get the syrup or butter?” you tease, noting the dramatic pout developing on his face. “What?”
“I’m keepin’ you warm,” he protests, sliding his hands over the cotton fabric of your faded t-shirt and grabbing your breasts. “And you’re not wearing a bra, so I gotta hold ‘em for you.”
He eventually obliges, setting two Chinette plates on the countertop and padding over to the refrigerator. He plucks the condiments from the side door and places them in the center of the table. 
“Cups, too,” you remind him with a cheeky grin, pointing to a cabinet to your right. “No drinking out of the carton in my house.”
“Bossy this morning, aren’t we?”
The toaster chimes a charismatic ding! as the waffles jump out of their slots, and you carefully drop both onto one plate. “Here ya go,” you chirp, extending your arm so he can take his breakfast. 
“Where’s yours?” His brows pinch together in confusion, a sly smile stretching his lips. “Don’t tell me I didn’t make you work up more of an appetite back there. Shit, shoulda had you ride me longer–”
Your hip collides with his in a purposeful shove. “I’m getting mine ready now. Go sit and eat, you horndog.” 
Eddie drops the plate on the counter so quickly that the Eggos nearly fly off, pulling you from behind for a hug that squeezes all the air from your lungs. You squeal as he bites your neck and barks into it, solidifying that he has indeed earned the new nickname you’ve bestowed upon him.
He takes one of his waffles and places it on your empty plate. “We can eat together.”
You grab the orange juice from the fridge, giving the carton a shake before pouring the contents between the two glasses. It’s not until you sit down that you remember: “Oh, shit—utensils.” You start to get back up, but Eddie puts a hand out in a silent bid for you to stay seated, shuffling back to the kitchen. The drawer rattles as he pulls with just a bit too much strength, and he comes back with two knives and a single fork. 
“You only got one—” you start, but he shakes his head. 
“Don’t need it.” With that, he cuts off a hunk of butter and slathers it on top of his waffle, knife scraping against the little squares. He slathers every square inch in syrup, folds the waffle in half, and takes an exaggeratedly large bite. 
“Eddie Munson!” you lightly chastise, still in shock at what you’ve witnessed. “Did you just eat that like a taco?”
“Sí, señorita.”
You shake your head in disbelief. “Oh, my God, I’m in love with a barbarian.” You reach for the bottle of Aunt Jemima and drizzle the sticky-sweetness onto your waffle. “What else is going on with you?” you ask, cutting the food into strips and spearing it with your fork. “Work’s good?”
“Work’s great, actually.” He starts to bring the waffle to his mouth but pauses just before taking a bite. Syrup drops onto the plate with a plop. “I almost forgot to tell you! The regional manager asked me to go to this thrift market in Indianapolis in a few weeks—all on the company’s dime—and try to snag some vintage records.”
“Eds, that’s amazing!” You leap up from your chair and lean in to kiss his syrupy lips. 
He licks a smudge of butter from the side of his thumb. “Oh, but that’s not even the best part,” Eddie grins triumphantly. “The market just so happens to fall during spring break, and I was hoping you could join us?” His bare foot nudges yours under the table. “That is, if you think you can survive an entire weekend running after Harris?”
Your jaw drops in mock-offense. “One of us chases after children–plural–every day. Besides,” you add, taking a swig of juice, “Harris isn’t the one I’m worried about.” You gesture at his partially-demolished breakfast. “At least when he eats like this, he has the excuse of being a child.”
His reply is a flick of his left middle finger, his right hand busy jamming the remaining waffle-taco into his mouth. “And yet,” he retorts with his mouth full, “you can’t seem to get enough.”
He’s got you there: all you’ve ever wanted is sitting in front of you now, the corners of his chocolate-brown eyes crinkling as he stands. You allow your eyes to roam his body; not with lust, but adoration. Love.
Your cheek yearns to be pressed to his chest, your hand resting where the soft pudge of his tummy barely rolls over the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs. Your legs crave the connection of intertwining with his. You need his arms, biceps strong from lugging around music equipment and holding his son, wrapped around your torso and keeping you impossibly close. Keeping you safe.
You want to spend hours asking about the stories behind the tattoos that adorn his chest, whether meaningful or the result of sheer boredom. You want to curl up on the sofa and put on a movie, absorbing none of it as you spend the entire duration lost in his lips. 
The brush of his thumb against your knuckles stirs you from your roaming thoughts. 
“Can I ask you something?”
Eddie sits up a bit straighter, hand never leaving yours. “Shoot.”
“Is it…” you fumble for the right words, “why are you like this now?”
“I’m sorry?” His brows knit together in obvious confusion. “Why am I like…what?”
“This,” you repeat, gesticulating at the man before you, warm and tender and completely unlike the stranger you’d hooked up with nearly eight months ago. “Why is the guy who once kicked me out of his apartment currently having breakfast with me half-naked and inviting me on a trip with his son?” Your tone is inquisitive, curious, and Eddie heaves a silent sigh of relief when he doesn’t detect a hint of judgment. 
He doesn’t answer your question outright; instead, he poses his own: “Do you not believe that I love you?” He bites his lower lip, mind churning with the early memories you’d made together, the ones he wishes he could lock away and never remember. 
Your heart lurches at your accidental implication. “I do! Shit, Eddie, I know you love me. And I love you, too.” You pause to lift his hand to your mouth, leaving the gentlest of kisses along his fuzzy knuckles. “I guess I just wanna know why you even let yourself love me. Why you didn’t stick to the Cat-and-Mouse. Why…why you chose me.” 
He exhales, an incredulous huff of laughter passing through his lips. “You wanna know why I started only having one-night stands? Or why I stopped?”
“Both?” you try.
“So, um,” his eyes look everywhere but at you, “I never really got attention until I moved to Chicago and started playing with that band. All of a sudden, women wanna sleep with me, and I don’t have to, like, beg them.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “But they didn’t really want to fuck Eddie Munson; they just wanted to fuck the lead singer and guitarist of Hard Knox. Didn’t matter if it was me or some other random guy.
“One night, I’m…y’know…with this one girl, and I asked her to say my name.” His cheeks tinge red and he swallows hard. “And she looks at me with these wide eyes, and I realized she didn’t even fucking know it.”
“Did you know hers?” The question comes out before you can stop it, but you already know the answer.
He rubs his eyes with his whole palm. “After that, I realized that the only difference between the Eddie who got laid and the Eddie who didn’t was that no one I slept with really knew me. And if they ever figured out that I’m just this big ol’ nerd who spent high school playing Dungeons & Dragons, they’d…” He flexes his hands to make a poof! motion. “So I decided not to let them get to know me.”
“But then…”
“But then,” he acquiesces, “you show up at the bar, looking like a goddamn dream, and I put up that cocky lead singer persona on instinct. Because that’s the only version of me that women ever wanted to be with.” He sighs. “And then I let my guard down, ask you to spend the night, and I’m thinking, ‘I gotta get her outta here before she sees who I really am. Before she sees that I’m not a rockstar; I’m just a mediocre dad who sells weed to scrape by.’”
You move so quickly that you practically knock over your chair, standing behind him and wrapping your arms around the top of his chest. Your chin rests on his scalp, and he can feel the vibration in your throat as you murmur, “nothing about you is mediocre, Eddie Munson.”
 He lays his head on your forearm, kissing it softly before lacing his fingers with yours. “Sometimes, I think I’m just buying time until you get sick of me.”
You shift your position so your lips can brush the side of his neck. “I didn’t fall for the guy on stage that night. I mean, yeah, you looked incredibly hot,” you tease and nip at his collarbone, “but I’m in love with Eddie Munson: the man who gets excited when his son reads a new word, who teases me for liking olives on my pizza, who knows the lyrics to every song ever made–including the ones he claims to hate.”
“Well, Eddie Munson–the real Eddie Munson–is so goddamn lucky to be loved by you.” He turns so he’s facing you, strong hands on your hips as he gazes up with starry eyes. 
You cradle his cheeks, stooping down so your noses touch. “You deserve to be loved.”
“Yeah.” The word is more breath than sound. “Yeah, I think I’m finally starting to believe that.” 
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The remainder of your day is spent having copious amounts of sex; Eddie had insisted on ‘making up for lost time,’ taking breaks only for a quick lunch and a shower. 
“Come with me to pick up Harris,” Eddie says as he wraps the bath towel around his waist. Water drips from the ends of his curls down to the dimples on his lower back. “We’re going to Jeff and Viv’s after so he can meet Baby Ettie.”
You raise your eyebrows in amusement, bending over to dry your legs. “I took a sick day today,” you remind him. “I can’t just show up there in your car, like, ‘nothing to see here!’”
“I’ll park far away,” he says with a shrug. “No biggie.” There’s a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “I mean, I could tell Harris that Ms. Sweetheart was supposed to be with us, but she said no—”
You swat at his chest and he pulls back, feigning pain. “You wouldn’t!”
“Try me.”
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That’s how you ended up hunched over in the passenger seat of Eddie’s sedan, hiding from any passersby who could potentially recognize you. It only takes a few minutes before you hear the sound of Harris’s little voice, chewing his dad’s ear off about his day at school.
“...and then me an’ Charlie traded me snacks, an’ no one even sawed us!” He’s cackling like it’s the funniest joke. “He had my pretzels and I had his gummies, and it was so silly!”  
“Gummies, huh?” Eddie clicks his tongue, “well, that explains the sugar rush.” Their voices get louder as they approach the car. “By the way, Har Bear, I have a surprise for you.”
As he says it, Harris opens the back door and hops into the car, eyes widening when he sees you sitting up front. “Ms. Sweetheart!” he exclaims, bouncing into his booster seat with pure exhilaration. “What are you doing in Daddy’s car?”
“I figured I could see Baby Ettie with you guys,” you say as nonchalantly as possible, a stark contrast to the little boy practically vibrating from excitement, “if that’s okay with you.”
“Yes, yes, YES!” Harris shouts, his words aimed directly in Eddie’s ear as he tries buckling his son’s seatbelt.
“Jesus H. Christ,” he mutters, wincing as he massages the opening of his ear canal with his forefinger. “Take it down a notch, little man.” He fumbles with the belt until he hears the familiar click. He dons a deep voice to announce, “Keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times,” and Harris draws his limbs inwards with a giggle while Eddie closes his door. 
“Daddy? Can we listen to music?”
“Mhm.” Eddie reaches for the radio dial, then stops. “Should we let Ms. Sweetheart choose the tape? Since she’s our special guest?” He shoots you a grin that sends a flip-flopping sensation behind your ribs. 
Harris taps his finger to his chin in contemplation. “Hmm…okay! Can she pick Metallica?”
“Not quite sure that’s how it works…” Eddie scrunches up his face and scratches at his jawline. 
You turn around to face the boy, whose curly hair is now identically frizzy to his father’s. “Actually, Metallica sounds great to me,” you say, adding a thumbs-up for good measure. 
“Metallica it is!” Eddie pops in the cassette, the mechanical wheels whirring for a moment before Fight Fire with Fire blares through the speakers. He rests his palm on the back of your seat as he backs out of the spot, tongue poking from his lips in concentration. 
Harris alternates between headbanging to the music and babbling about school throughout the drive to Jeff and Viv’s. His energy seems endless as he hops out of the car and races to their front door. 
“Har, remember,” Eddie calls out, “we have to be calm and gentle around the baby. Don’t wanna scare her.”
Harris nods as Jeff opens the door. “Mini Munson!” He gives a tired smile, stifling a yawn. “Ready to meet your new cousin?” He chuckles when Harris jumps up and down and squeals. “I’ll take that as a yes. Go ‘head and sit on the couch, kiddo.”
Harris follows Jeff’s instructions, and you and Eddie trail close behind him. Jess and Robin are also there; the latter woman is currently holding Ettie, lightly rocking the newborn in her arms. 
“Do you wanna hold her?” she asks Harris, who looks to you and his dad in a silent plea for permission. 
“Up to you, Har,�� Eddie says with an encouraging smile. “We’ll help you, if you want.”
Harris nods, shuffling so his back is pressed up against the sofa. He squirms anxiously, kicking his feet as he waits for you and his dad to join him. 
Eddie sits on his right side, and you take the empty space to his left. “I’ll help you hold her head,” you promise him. “You can hold your arms out like this,” you demonstrate, resting your forearms on your lap with your palms facing the ceiling, and Harris mimics your actions. “There ya go.”
Robin carefully walks over and places Ettie in Harris’s outstretched arms, ensuring that you’re supporting the baby’s head before she fully lets go. For a few moments, Harris just stares at the little girl, seemingly unsure how to react. Finally, he softly murmurs, “she’s so little!”
“Sure is,” Eddie laughs, poking at one of her tiny toes in amazement. “Would you believe that you were even more little when you were a baby?” His grin deepens when Harris’s jaw drops in disbelief. “It’s true! You were the tiniest little thing I’ve ever seen.” As he says it, a lump forms in his throat, and he swallows it before anyone notices the catch in his voice. You don’t need to hear it, though, and you use your free hand to discreetly rub his back in silent reassurance.
Harris purses his lips as he stares at his new cousin, clearly unaffected by the anecdote. “Does she do any tricks?” 
His question has the entire group stifling laughter, and Eddie turns pink with embarrassment as he quickly explains, “she’s not a dog, buddy. And she was only born a few weeks ago, so she pretty much just eats, sleeps, and poops.”
“Ew,” Harris’s nose wrinkles in disgust at the last activity, though you’re willing to bet a large sum of money that he’s made at least one poop-related joke today. “So when can I teach her how to play Legos?”
“Not for a while,” Viv admits with a kind chuckle, “but when she’s ready, I promise that we’ll let her big cousin Harris show her how it’s done.”
Her answer placates him, at least temporarily, and he cautiously brushes his forefinger against Ettie’s scalp, smoothing down her wisps of hair. You take the moment to glance over at Eddie, only to find him looking right at you.
Hi, he mouths, though there’s so much more he wishes to say. When Harris was Ettie’s age, Eddie was exhausted, overwhelmed, constantly on the brink of breaking down. He’d sworn to himself and anyone else who would listen that he’d never go through the newborn stage again, but he’s mesmerized by the sight of you and Harris cuddling a baby. He wants this, he wants this with you, sleepless nights and spit-up stained clothes no longer strong enough deterrents.
Hi, you mouth back, suppressing words that ache to spill from your lips. Your pulse quickens at the way Eddie watches his son, not with scrutiny, but with admiration and awe, as though he can’t believe he’d created such a wonderful little human. Teaching children never translated over to a desire for motherhood, but you can suddenly picture yourself helping Harris hold your baby, a baby that symbolizes the love between you and Eddie.
“They look like a little family.” Robin’s attempted whisper grabs your attention; a brief scan of the room shows that everyone else is looking at her, too. Her cheeks flush a deep red and she mutters, “sorry,” swooping in to scoop Ettie into her arms. 
An awkward silence hangs in the air until Jess clears her throat. “How was work today?” she asks you, and though you don’t have an actual answer to the question, you’re grateful for the subject change.
“I took the day off,” you reply nonchalantly. “Wanted to catch up on rest, y’know…” You trail off, hoping your non-answer suffices.
“What about you, Ed?” Jeff tries.
“Oh, uh,” Eddie stammers, nervously running a hand through his hair, “I also took the day off.”
Jeff’s gaze flits between the two of you until he finally manages an elongated, “…cool.” 
Luckily, Harris is oblivious to the adults’ conversation. “Uncle Jeff, are you coming to my talent show next week?”
“Talent show?” Jeff glances at Eddie with an amused smirk. 
“Uh, yeah, ‘s this parent-kid thing at his school,” Eddie hurriedly explains, trying not to trip over his words. He’s still stuck on what he’s implied by admitting that he’d also called out of work. “I didn’t know how busy you’d be with Ettie—”
Viv smiles. “I think he can sneak out for an hour to see his favorite nephew.”
“Robs and I can help out here if you need,” Jess offers to her sister, “as long as Jeff brings the camcorder so we have video evidence of this performance.”
“Absolutely not.” Eddie shuts the idea down immediately, but his protest is drowned out by the sound of Harris cheering. 
“Daddy and I are gonna—”
Eddie claps a ringed hand over his son’s mouth. “It’s a surprise.” He looks at you for a moment, bashfulness infiltrating his expression with a timid smile and downcast eyes, and you realize that the surprise is for you. 
Harris wriggles out of Eddie’s grasp with a discontented sigh, sliding off the couch and onto thr floor. “I didn’t tell Ms. Sweetheart,” he protests, and Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose as he gathers any remaining patience. 
Ettie puckers up her face and lets out a wail that seems far too big for her teeny body, but it serves as the perfect reason to leave. You hug everyone goodbye and give the cranky baby’s feet a gentle tickle before you head out the door. Harris gallops ahead, giving Eddie the opportunity to guide you with a soft press of his hand to the small of your back. Before he's fully outside, he leans in to Jeff, whispering “I told her,” ending the statement with a grin. 
“My man!” Jeff grabs Eddie’s shoulder and gives it a small shake. “Let me know when to buy my tux for the wedding.”
“Jesus, you sound like Harris.”
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Spending time at Hawkins Preschool outside of contracted work hours would normally be a scenario straight out of a nightmare. This afternoon; however, you’re here to see the most adorable little boy and his handsome dad perform some sort of mystery talent, which makes it all worthwhile.
The cafeteria has been transformed into an auditorium of sorts, with neat lines of metal folding chairs replacing the long tables that typically fill the space. An area at the front of the room has been sectioned off for the performances, and the entire place is abuzz with excitement about the adorableness that is about to ensue.
You spot Jeff and Wayne sitting in the third row from the back and you give them a little wave, bounding over to take the empty seat to Jeff’s left. The smile on your lips quickly transforms into a frown when you see him shake his head, placing his palm on the chair.
“I’m under strict orders to make sure you sit in the front row,” he says with a knowing smirk. He shoos you away, and you begrudgingly turn from their familiar faces, but not before catching a twinkle in Wayne’s eyes. 
Soon after you find a seat close to the makeshift stage, Principal Sinclair steps up to the microphone. 
“Welcome, friends and family, to our annual talent show fundraiser!” There’s a polite smattering of applause before she speaks again. “Our students—and their parents—have quite a show for you all. First up is Miss Abigail Carver and her mom, Chrissy, who will be performing a cheer routine!”
You clap as Abby and Chrissy step out, green and yellow pom-poms in hand. Your student recognizes you immediately, running over to give you a quick hug that elicits a resounding aww from the audience members.  She rushes back to her spot as she and her mother cheer on the Hawkins Tigers in unison. 
Next is another student of yours, Joshua Harrington. His dad hoists a Fisher Price basketball hoop and places it on the ground so the two of them can show off their “slam dunks.”
After a few more students from other classes, it’s finally the moment you’ve been waiting for. 
“Please welcome Harris Munson and his dad, Eddie, who will be singing a song!”
No sooner do you call out, “Yay, Harris!” do you hear it:
“Freak.”
It’s low enough that no one else catches it; you probably wouldn’t have, either, if the culprit wasn’t sitting directly behind you. You turn around to see Jason Carver, camcorder by his side, poorly stifling a snicker. 
Your hands clench, balled into fists, so tight that you feel your fingernails digging into your palms. It’s too tempting to smash his camera—no, smash his stupid face—but you inhale and then exhale for three seconds apiece. Today is about Harris and Eddie, and no overgrown bully is going to ruin that. 
Still, you have to bite back a smile at the thought of Jason sporting a black eye, courtesy of the Freak’s girlfriend herself. 
When Harris and Eddie take to the performance space, your anger evaporates and your heart becomes heavy with emotion. Harris is front and center, body slightly turned as he watches his dad get settled on a wooden stool and gives his acoustic guitar a tune. The boy dons a black suit that’s a size too big for him, his hands barely peeking out of the sleeves. He’s got on a tie that has to have been borrowed from an adult; you can’t imagine Eddie or Wayne wearing one, so maybe Jeff loaned it. The best part is the fedora that rests atop his messy mop of curls. 
“Hi, Ms. Sweetheart!” he says with a grin so wide it likely hurts his cheeks, letting out a shriek of delight when you wave. “This song is for you!”
Eddie murmurs a soft, “two, three, four,” and strums a melody that immediately has your eyes welling with tears. 
“You make me feel so young,” Harris croons, mouth right up to the mic, “you make me feel so spring has sprung!”
To anyone else, it seems like a silly play on the fact that he is, in fact, young. You know it’s so much more. 
“And every time I see you grin, I’m such a happy individual!” 
He’s singing Frank Sinatra. He’s dressed as Frank Sinatra. And you know it had to be Eddie’s idea, considering Harris’s musical repertoire teeters between Raffi and Metallica. 
He skips a few verses, and when he does, Eddie locks eyes with you and offers a tiny close-mouthed smile. 
“And even when I’m old and gray I’m gonna feel the way I do today ‘Cause you make me feel so young!”
You choke down the sob that threatens to escape as they circle back to the chorus. The memory of Grandma’s final Thanksgiving, consisting of singing along to Fly Me to the Moon and sharing store-brand Oreos, soars around your mind. The way she had so easily slipped back into her old self, if only for a moment. The way Eddie had held you and kissed your scalp, protecting you from a force no one could see but everyone could feel. 
“You make me feel so young You make me feel so young Ooh, you make me feel so young!”
The song ends and you leap to your feet, cheering just as loudly as you did the other night at the Hideout for Corroded Coffin. You swipe at a stray tear and force yourself to look at your boyfriend, so effortlessly beautiful in a black t-shirt and jeans. 
Thank you, you mouth. 
I love you, comes his silent reply. 
You gaze into each other’s eyes for another beat before you feel a thud against your legs. Harris stands right before you, ignoring the way all of the other kids proceeded out the door after their performances.
“Are those happy tears?” he asks, brows furrowing in concern as he notices your stained cheeks. When you nod, still too overcome with emotion to speak aloud, his face splits into a grin. “Good.” His arms wrap around your waist in a hug that nearly has you toppling over, and you rest your hand on his upper back to steady yourself.
“Easy, Har Bear,” Eddie’s voice is strong but tender, and your entire body relaxes in his presence. You want to pull him in by his belt loops and kiss him, running your fingers through his curls until you’re both smiling too hard to continue. If only you weren’t at your place of work, if only all eyes weren’t on you, if only–
“Looks like the Freak’s got a crush.”
A smattering of the audience members laugh at this, no one more so than the instigator himself. You whirl around reflexively, eyes narrowing at the smug blonde man behind you. Eddie takes a small step forward, quietly telling Harris to go back with his friends as he zeroes in on his longtime nemesis.
He’s going to hit him, you realize, noting the subtle clench of his jaw and twitch of his flexing bicep. I have to stop him before he does something he regrets.
Eddie’s hand shoots out, grabbing Jason’s collar and pulling him in with a jolt. There’s a soft gasp from the crowd followed by silence as everyone waits for Eddie’s next move. You can hear the scraping of metal chairs on the ground as Wayne and Jeff scramble to mitigate the situation before it can escalate further.
To your surprise–and relief–Eddie doesn’t throw any punches; instead, he grits his teeth and hisses, low enough so only you and Jason can hear:
“Don’t ever talk about her again.”
He lets go with a small shove, and Jason stumbles back just as Principal Sinclair arrives to break it up. While time came to a screeching halt, the whole interaction spanned fewer than ten seconds. 
Wayne and Jeff reach him first, guiding him out of the cafeteria. The older man keeps his eyes on his nephew, but Jeff shoots Jason a steely glare, insinuating that Jason had better heed Eddie’s warning if he wants to live to see his daughter go to kindergarten. You follow behind and attempt to keep your composure.
“I’m so sorry,” Eddie breathes as soon as the four of you are alone. “I shouldn’t have…I just fuckin’ hate that guy.” His eyes dance with anxiety, not sure whether to look at you, his friend, his uncle, or the ground.
You take his hands in yours, imploring him to focus on you as you reach up to brush his curls off of his face. “It’s okay–”
Eddie shakes his head. “I ruined everything. This was supposed to be about Harris, and about making you happy…” He takes a step back, rubbing his eyes with a low, exasperated, “fuck!”
“Baby–”
“I’m gonna get Harris,” Eddie starts to walk away, speaking to himself as though you hadn’t said a word, but he stops in his tracks when Wayne puts his hand on his shoulder.
“Listen to your girl,” he says simply, motioning for Jeff to come fetch Harris with him.
Eddie doesn’t dare protest, trudging back to face you. He’d fucked up royally, and he knew it. What was he thinking, putting his hands on Jason Carver in the middle of a goddamn preschool talent show?
“Eddie,” you take his hand in yours and give it a squeeze, “it’s okay. I’m not mad; I just wish he didn’t get under your skin like that.” You rub your thumb along his forefinger. “He’s not worth it, I promise.”
“I just…” Eddie mumbles, thoughts too scrambled to find the words he needs. He heaves a long sigh. “I shouldn’t have done it here.”
You can’t really argue with that; out of all of the places Eddie could fight Jason, your job wasn’t your favorite option. 
“Can I tell you a secret?” You press onto your toes to whisper in his ear. “I almost did the same thing earlier today.”
“Really?”
“Mhm,” you confirm, nudging the toe of your shoe against his scuffed sneaker. “And I have a feeling most people in this town would agree with me.” The notion makes Eddie smile, and you continue. “Let me take you and Ol’ Brown Eyes out for ice cream to celebrate your amazing performance. Please?” You throw a puppy-dog look his way, though he needs little convincing.
Still, a nagging thought tugs at him that he has to resolve before can allow himself to relax. “There might be people there. People we know.” People like Jason Carver and Carol Perkins, he silently adds. “It’s okay if you don’t want to…we can just grab a half-gallon from Bradley’s and bring it home.”
You shake your head, effectively turning down his offer. “I’m taking my boyfriend and his adorable son to Scoops Ahoy, and the three of us are gonna split a fudge sundae,” you say matter-of-factly. 
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Are you sure you’re okay with people knowing about us? Being branded ‘The Freak’s Girlfriend’? Hearing people gossip about whatever the Hawkins rumor mill has churned out?
The sensation of your lips on his tempers the overworked gear shifts in his brain. When you pull back, you’re smiling at him. 
“Positive.”
--
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