#i alternate between never wanting to leave this place and wishing i never knew it existed in the first place

[united-under-skyfall]

growing up in a small town is like. i want to get as far away from here as humanly possible and never look back. i've been sorted into homeroom classes with at least seven of the same kids from kindergarten through graduation and i don't know that we've ever talked longer than five minutes but i'd probably die for them. this would be a nice place to live for the rest of my life, i think. you know everyone in town by their family name even if you don't actually know any of them personally. i'm tired. everyone i know is tired. i hate it here. i never want to leave. we have nothing to do here and the boredom gouges tracks in my brain. i am personally offended by anyone not from here who says there's nothing to do here. everyone here knows too much about me. i know too much about everyone here. how does it feel to start from a blank slate? i would never know. there is a quiet, hidden sort of rage that everyone plants in their gardens. the lemonade at the market tastes like five-year-old laughter, the library smells like paper and the hot chocolate they used to make for events in the basement. the local history room hadn't changed since they installed it because there's nothing else to add, nothing else to know. i am tired. they're developing things and too much is changing too quickly and this has been the same unchanging neighborhood for fifty fucking years and now it's utterly unrecognizable from the place i knew barely a decade ago. i am never sure how much this change is a good thing, how much is too much. it feels like someone is peeling back my wallpaper skin when i'm not looking, painting different shades over what i thought should be there. i'm not the only person in this place but it feels strangely like they should have asked for my permission first, like i am part of its foundation, or maybe it's part of mine. (do we ask the bricks what they want the wall to look like, too?) we all share layers of the same memories that are slowly shifting and eroding, and you can see it everywhere you look, viscerally, physically. i think it is impossible to escape this place unless you are willing to bleed, and make bleed. it would be so, so easy to just disappear. the air feels fresher here than anywhere else, simply because it is the baseline my body has learned and my lungs have loved. i am so very, very tired. i think it's this place. i think i like it. i don't know. i don't know how to be anything else. i learned from brick and mortar, from pavement, from parks; buildings that served my mother as a child, graves no one visits anymore, trees older than my family line; everything sags, the colors washed out. they are tired, too.

#idk man. just. i was talking with a coworker today—an old classmate's mom—and she asked if i knew chris smith #and i said which chris smith there's two and she said the bald one and i said well yeah and she said his wife just died #and his wife was a twin who went to school with my mom. and of course my mom knew her because twins were kind of A Thing #in their grade. and i didn't realize this co-worker even knew who my mom was. and her husband is a teacher and three other kids #in our grade had fathers who taught the same subject as him also working at our school and i think about that a lot actually #half my friends chose their colleges based solely on how far away from home they are. and they were not aiming for proximity. #every day i drive along the same roads my schoolbus took and everyday the view looks a little less like it should #i alternate between never wanting to leave this place and wishing i never knew it existed in the first place #and i was thinking back on a lot of old conversations about this and. i'm just really in my feels about small towns rn man #and the incredibly complicated relationships both with it and with everyone and everything in it that are inherent to them #ramble #dead letter office got it i think #small towns #growing up

[icallhimjoey]

Only Now

♥ ♥          Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader 

Summary: Eddie needs Hawkins, needs his old friends, needs you to ground him every couple of months. And so he visits for a few days in the middle of December and lets all of you pretend you're momentarily back in '88, and it's beautiful, but it hurts. A lot.

Author’s note: Christmas came early @joejoequinnquinn! Surprise! This one's just for you as part of @quinnyfairy's Secret Santa Project; my very first (and maybe last, idk) Eddie fic ever. Hope you enjoy!!

CW / disclaimer: 18+, angsty, swearing (lots), drinking, little smutty sort of, reader celebrates Christmas (some form of it anyway) and also my very first time writing for Eddie so please bear with!

Wordcount: 9.5K

(find all other parts of this story here) God, how you wished you could slow down time. You wanted longer minutes, longer hours. Slower ticking clocks. Maybe even freeze time all together, just so you could relish his company for longer. It felt like the minutes were slipping by in record time and sleeping through them only sped them up even more. So, you laid awake instead, and mentally willed the stretch between each tick of your clock to lengthen as you stared at Eddie next to you.

You were trying to stay quiet. Not let Eddie hear you cry, because you knew if he did, he’d shake his sleep off of him and wouldn’t be able to get back to it. It was only quarter past two, which was far too many hours ‘til morning still, and Eddie needed his sleep. This was likely the last night he'd sleep in an actual bed; for the next few weeks it'd be bunkbeds on buses and couches in dressing rooms.

He looked so soft with his hair braided up and out of his face, still wet from when he’d let you wash it hours earlier. How could you not cry at the sheer sight of him? He’d never let anyone else see him like this, you knew it to be true, and those soft noises he made? The grunts, mumbles and groans his sleep let escape him? Just for you, you were convinced.

You felt a fresh tear roll over the bridge of your nose, and there was no point in wiping it away. You knew it would find your pillow or your covers to disappear into. This was exactly what Steve had warned you about, countless times. He’d said he wouldn’t allow you to slip back and do this all over again, not after the last time, but when Eddie arrived three days ago, you’d seen Steve struggle with the same inner battle. He’d missed Eddie just as much and just as easily would let himself transport back to ’87, ’88.

“He’s here!” Steve had gotten up from the picnic table you’d both been sat on outside of your apartment building as you’d waited for Eddie. Butts perched up on the tabletop, feet on the wooden bench below you, up and away from the cold ground below it, you’d been chatting, and Steve had tried to talk some sense into you before Eddie’s taxi had pulled up.

“I know you think he needs it, but ultimately, you know you shouldn’t let him,” Steve had said, placing blame with you. You shouldn’t let him. Not, Eddie shouldn’t do this.

“I know,” you agreed, but you were the one thinking all your thoughts, feeling all your feelings. Not Steve. You knew very well that you shouldn’t let Eddie come into your world and pretend you were still twenty and fresh-faced for a few days before he’d fuck off and leave you again. But what was the alternative? Have none of Eddie at all? That option seemed much worse.

“I know you know, but it’d be great if you made smart choices. Smarter choices.” Steve referenced the last time Eddie had been in town. He had visited Hawkins for six days last May, and for weeks afterwards, Steve had been busy picking up the pieces of you that you didn’t seem to be able to hold onto yourself. He had to put real effort in to put you back together, slowly but surely, until you felt like a human being again.

Steve was a good friend. It was because Steve also missed Eddie a lot, so he understood on another level, but it also meant he let his mind get cloudy when Eddie was around. Neither of you were part of Eddie’s life anymore, not like you were before he’d left, and neither of you liked that. The three of you had almost joined at the hip, and whenever Steve would hang out with Robin, you and Eddie would play house. Eddie was your not-boyfriend, and you were his not-girlfriend. For all intends and purposes, you were absolutely dating each other. But if someone asked if Eddie was your boyfriend, or if you were his girlfriend, you’d always say no. No. You were just friends. Except you weren’t. But you were.

Now, you were pieces of the puzzle of Hawkins to him, the place he would come back to every couple of months when he’d find the time in between tours. Eddie needed the place to ground himself, to feel like the person he felt he still was on the inside. He would keep that Eddie in his own pocket, but he would always lose that version of himself on stage after doing a few shows. He wouldn’t realise he’d gone missing until he’d smash another TV in a hotel room with strangers who pretended to be his friends, and girls who were only there because he was the Eddie Munson, front man to famous metal band Corroded Coffin. That’s when he’d call Wayne and he would tell him to let everyone know he’d be coming down soon. Make sure Hawkins was ready for him. Lay the red carpets out. And Wayne would chuckle, and then he’d just tell the two of you.

"Munson!" Steve called out as he walked towards the taxi that Eddie had just opened the door of, his arms already opening.

"Harrington!" Eddie called back in the same tone once he stepped out and saw Steve.

Eddie looked absolutely horrible. Like he hadn't stopped continuously drinking and hadn't slept for days. But he smiled, and when Steve jumped him, he hugged him back with strong arms and patting hands.

"Jesus, you smell like the floor of a dive bar," Steve said, and it made Eddie throw his head back with laughter.

They broke into a playful scuffle, half wrestling, half still hugging, poking fingers at each other like teenage boys who didn't know how else to express affection. Their grunting and laughing reached your ears and made you smile. You stayed put, sat on your hands on the picnic table still, not wanting to intrude on their moment together, until Eddie caught your eye over Steve's shoulder.

"You," Eddie pointed, and you saw the glint in his eyes change. Eddie looked at you different, and it made the words Steve had tried so hard to imprint onto you immediately disappear. Eddie was here. And he was looking at you.

"Get your ass over here," Eddie beckoned with wild arms as he started walking towards you himself, leaving Steve to take Eddie's duffle bag from the taxi driver.

You pushed yourself from the bench, and took small steps, but stopped when Eddie started running and looked at you the same way he had looked at Steve when he'd started wrestling him. Full puppy dog energy. You let him crash into you, lift you from your feet and swing you around, legs flailing and voice squealing. Steve was right. Eddie smelled like he'd washed his hair with beer a couple days ago and hadn't touched it since.

"Missed you," Eddie spoke into your hair before planting a kiss there and putting you down. Missed you more, you thought, but couldn't say it. You took a minute to look at him, still in his grip. Eddie looked older, like he had aged twice as fast as you had. There were more lines on his face and his eyes sat a little deeper. His hair lacked shine and his scruff eyed unruly. You wondered how long ago it was since Eddie had eaten a vegetable.

"How long are you staying for?" you asked before saying anything else. Please stay for Christmas, you thought. Please.

"Just a few days," Eddie said, and it pained you that he said it like it was good news. Like he couldn't actually wait to get out of here again. Like that didn't absolutely wreck you.

"Let's head inside, it's fucking freezing," Steve walked past you and broke your moment with Eddie, slinging a protective arm around your shoulder, ensuring that you fell into step together as you made your way inside. You feared you'd shown too much in your face. Things that Steve had definitely spotted, but somehow, Eddie hadn't.

You headed up to Steve's apartment together, Steve decided. In the elevator, Steve pressed the button for his floor, not yours, and the second of quick eye contact between the two of you said enough. Once inside, Eddie immediately asked if it was okay for him to take a quick shower. You know, because he'd been traveling so long, Eddie said. Not because the stench of alcohol really had almost become too overwhelming in the small space of the elevator, and Eddie realised just then how clean and healthy you and Steve looked compared to him, all flushed cheeks, bright eyes, and plump skin.

When Eddie locked the door behind him, you caught your reflection in Steve's hallway mirror and immediately regained your composure; you stood up straight, pulled your shoulders back and relaxed your brow. Eddie was here. You were going to have fun together. Even if it was just for a few days. Maybe even more so because of it, because now it was extra important to make every second count.

"You okay?" Steve saw. You smiled and said you were. Eddie was here now. You did a good job pushing all sadness aside and told it to not pop back up until later. Sometime after Christmas maybe. You could deal with it then. Steve accepted your smile, happy to see you still had it ready for him, but he worried about you anyway.

"Where is he?"

It was much later, and Robin used her spare key to let herself into Steve's apartment, not bothering to announce her arrival by ringing the doorbell, not willing to wait for someone else to let her in. You saw Eddie smile, mouth full of pizza still, as he immediately got up from where he was sat on the floor by the coffee table.

Robin walked in, hidden inside a heavy coat, under a wool beanie and wrapped up in a thick scarf. Whatever pieces of hair you could see were wet from the snow that had started coming down late afternoon and hadn't stopped since.

"Oh my God, it's famous rockstar Eddie Munson!" Robin shrieked and bounced as Eddie leant in to hug her tight. He lifted her up, just like he'd done with you, except Robin didn't get any spins or whispers placed into her hair. "Steve!" she called over Eddie's shoulder. "You've got someone famous in your home!"

"All right," Eddie laughed bashfully, "It's just the town's freak today, I’m afraid."

"Yea, a freak who apparently is now friends with Alanis Morissette?! What the fuck, Eddie?" Robin punched Eddie in the arm.

"I've met her once," Eddie argued as he sat back down, looking at you and rolling his eyes. It was aimed at Robin, but he made sure she couldn't see, and you giggled together.

You spent the evening chatting, eating, and drinking. Drinks that Eddie turned down with a swift, "Nah, I'm good, thanks," and you wondered if he didn't touch a single drop just because Steve had made that comment about his scent earlier.

Robin was her chaotic cheerful self and couldn't stop asking Eddie questions. It meant you got to sit back and listen, bask in the company of your friends. As the hours passed, you turned more into the people you once were, and you couldn't help but love every second of it. Steve started using pet names he hadn't used in ages. Robin made sarcastic jokes at the expense of others so skillfully, no one minded them at all. Eddie grew more theatrical in the way you knew him to be, silly, loud, enthusiastic, and stupid, just the way you liked him most. The second you'd stop giggling, someone would do or say something that would get you reared right back up again, and you'd all join in, smug faces with dumb smiles. You weren't sure if you also became more of the girl you once were, or what that even looked like, but you were having fun, and that was all that mattered.

"Where are you staying?" Robin asked Eddie, like she didn't already know. Maybe she didn't, you thought for a second, because why else would she even bring it up? Maybe it was just polite conversation as she started getting ready to go home and brace the cold once more.

"I think–" Eddie squeezed his eyes shut for a second, before cocking his head your way. "–there's a very comfortable couch made up somewhere in this building for me," Eddie smiled. You nodded because he was right. You had fashioned your couch into a comfortable guest bed, but all four of you knew that there wasn't a chance Eddie was going to use it. There was no reason for you to have gotten the extra pillows, duvets, and sheets out, but you had done it anyway. If not to fool anyone else, then at least to fool yourself.

And fool yourself you did. But only for a minute.

"I've got extra blankets here if you need them. Another pillow too, if that one's too firm," you gestured at a closet as Eddie dropped his duffle bag onto your made-up couch. He looked around a second. You'd made the couch look very cosy, and Eddie almost pouted at the effort you'd put in. But then he looked towards the hallway, and without saying anything, let his feet follow his gaze. He just walked right out. You heard him flip the light switch in your bedroom, followed by the soft sound of a thud to your mattress, and then a heavy blissful sigh.

You knew you shouldn't. But you also knew you absolutely would.

Without putting up a fight, without even trying to pretend this wasn’t what you wanted, you got into bed with Eddie and let him pull you close. Eddie hugged you, face to face, and you hugged him back, clinging. Almost as if a hunger inside you that hadn't been stilled in months finally found its satisfaction. All your senses were being fed with all things Eddie, and you reveled in his embrace. Eddie felt strong, but somehow frail too, which was a little troubling. And he smelled like Steve's shampoo, which was a lot troubling. But he was warm, and you were held. It was so very welcoming. So needed. You hugged each other like you used to do all the time, and you nuzzled into him, your nose pressing firmly into his neck. Something in your chest slotted into place, and it felt right.

"Why are you sad?" Eddie asked after a few beats of silence. It was earnest and sober. A question he'd never ask you if you weren't alone together. In the dark, together.

You hated that he'd seen it within you. But how could he not have?

"I'm not," you whispered, and Eddie didn't believe you, but pulled you closer in response. "Go to sleep, you look like you need it," you didn't want to talk anymore. One of Eddie's hands searched to find one of yours to grab onto. To squeeze. And he would've kissed you if he hadn't been so tired.

"Is it the memories?" Eddie asked the darkness that surrounded you, revealing he still knew you better than you knew yourself. Memories had their way of rearing up and sinking their teeth into your present, and you hadn't yet figured out how to not let them hurt you.

Just to put the matter to rest, and because you didn't want to lie to Eddie, you agreed. "It's the memories."

Eddie moved a little before you felt and heard a kiss close to your ear. "I'm here." And he was.

The next morning you woke up being the small spoon to Eddie's big spoon. Eddie had himself wrapped all around you, a leg slung over you up so high, its thigh covered your hip. His nose pressed into your neck where his lips were fluttering soft kisses that tickled you awake slowly. It was the best wake up call you'd gotten in a while, and you pretended you were still asleep, just so the moment would last you longer.

You wanted to take whatever you could get, knowing you would only be able to have it for a short amount of time. It would absolutely ruin you the next time you'd wake up in your bed alone, but you were too greedy for it now not to bask in it. Swim in it forever. Let it bubble around you, like in a hot tub.

Eddie let a hand roam underneath your shirt. They were slow, soft fingers, cool against your skin, but the stroke of them gratifying. Instead of going for a squeeze - which you were totally expecting, you knew Eddie - he pressed his flat palm right in the middle of your chest, catching cleavage, but mostly monitoring your heart rate.

He curled around you more, tightened his arms and pulled you in closer, using the hand over your heart to push you into him. You let him do whatever he wanted, and tried to control your breathing as best you could. He then found a spot on your neck to lick, and just like Eddie predicted, it made your heart beat faster instantly. He knew you were awake.

"Good morning," Eddie's voice vibrated impossibly low and sensual, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

Eddie tilted his hips and your breathe caught and shattered. You could feel him press up against you, impossibly hard for you, and it made you want to push back into him more. You didn't move, though, and instead kept your eyes closed and your hands in place. You knew what would happen if you did push back into him; if you did let your hands wander where they were itching to go.

You took a deep breath to shake it off and you felt Eddie do the same. With his face nuzzled into your neck still, Eddie was inhaling you, and you felt him rock his hips into you once more.

You couldn't. Not yet, anyway. Because Steve was in your mind still, with important words of advice you promised you'd guard yourself with when it would eventually come down to this.

Eddie sensed your apprehension and stopped, halting everything he was doing. His hand immediately slipped from your top and his leg moved down yours a little which freed you from the death grip he'd had on you. His common sense returned too abruptly for your liking, though, and you whined at your sudden loss of him. Eddie immediately regretted the severe, quick change in his demeanor. To make it up to you, he lifted himself over you far enough to press a warm, sweet kiss onto your cheek.

"Did you sleep OK?" Eddie sounded much more awake this time.

It was a good thing Eddie got up and out of bed. Every minute you spent in Eddie's arms like that, only made you want it more. He didn't necessarily need to climb out on your side of the bed, though, but the way he had rolled over you, pushing you down into the mattress as roughly as he could whilst muttering, "oh, sorry, just sneaking past, excuse me, sorry," injected humor into your morning together.

It was only a few hours later that you were absolutely freezing your tits off, watching Eddie and Dustin who were quite literally frollicking in the park. It didn't matter how old they were, or how old they'd ever be; these boys would lay their eyes upon each other, and energy would just shoot into their legs. They were running, shouting at each other and laughing loudly. After five minutes of flinging powdery snow and trying to make one another topple over to get a full face of it, you saw the beginnings of little snowballs that they then started rolling into bigger ones.

It was so cold. You had your gloved hands tucked deeply into the pockets of your coat, your chin dipped into your scarf and your face displayed a permanent grimace as it dealt with the biting breeze it couldn't escape.

"Are they... are they seriously going to build a snowman?"

Mike stood next to you, same grimace displayed on his face, shivering even more than you were. He was still just as lanky as he'd been in high school. Tall, thin, unproportionally long limbs and barely any bodyfat at all. Mike wasn't built to keep himself even slightly warm in cold winters like this one. He was too cool for school, too. Too cool to join Dustin and Eddie in their play, so he watched them from the sidelines, just like you did.

"Do you want to go get a coffee?" you asked Mike, turning your full body instead of just your face to look at him, desperate for some warmth and for some caffeine.

"Guys!" Mike called over. "Wanna go grab a coffee?"

You smiled a small smile to yourself. You would've absolutely left Eddie and Dustin for a moment to get a coffee alone with Mike, but Mike clearly didn't think walking off with only you was even an option. It was all right. You and Mike weren't friends. You understood if Mike thought it'd be awkward.

Neither Eddie nor Dustin reacted to Mike's question. They were too busy making sure their ball of snow didn't collapse in on itself. You saw some of Eddie's wet hair strands stick to his face, mouth open as he breathed heavily, letting Dustin tell him how to use his hands in swiping motions to get the shape right. Both of their jeans had big wet patches at the knees and you wondered how cold and uncomfortable they were going to be for the rest of the day. Mike let a weird, sort of judgmental laugh escape his throat before he shook his head. You grinned at Mike. Where Dustin was so openly a fan of Eddie, Mike quietly tried to hide his - to you - obvious admiration for Eddie. You guessed Mike was secretly way more impressed with him than he let on, and desperately wanted to impress Eddie himself too. Dustin was the guy who would unashamedly pin a poster of Eddie up onto his wall, happily displaying that he was friends with Eddie Munson and was so very proud of him. Mike was the guy who thought that putting up posters was definitely not cool, but instead would try to casually name drop Eddie any time he could.

"Well," Mike said. "At least they're having fun," and it didn't sound like a comment Mike would make, but more like he thought it was a good thing to say in the moment. To fill the silence he didn't know how else to fill. And in a desperate attempt to keep conversation with you going, Mike's mind came up with a question he asked before his brain had even thought of what your reaction to it could be.

"What's it like having your boyfriend back?" Mike asked, and you felt your chest tighten, but were incredibly quick to respond. It was like you'd kept the answer ready in your mouth, because you anticipated someone saying something along the lines of what Mike just said.

"Eddie's not my boyfriend."

You'd said the same thing so many times in your teens that you instantly felt transported back in time a bit. You always fully believed yourself when you said that you and Eddie weren't dating, wholly trusted that you were speaking the truth. But it also always hurt you. It was a sentence that scratched at your insides with long, sharp nails that could puncture your flesh if you weren't careful.

"Ex-boyfriend, sorry," Mike corrected himself like he knew what he was talking about.

"Not that either."

You wondered if Mike thought it had been weird when you and Eddie had walked up holding hands, especially if he also thought that you used to date a long time ago. What kind of ex-lovers held hands still?

You hid yourself into your shoulders a bit more and felt how you had lost complete feeling in your toes. Mike frowned at you in confusion. He'd been around you when you were younger. He looked up to Eddie then, and still did now, and where ever Eddie was, you would be too. Robin would shout inappropriate jokes about you in public places all the time. Mike remembered how Eddie had ran after you once, just to squeeze your ass with both his hands, and you'd just turned around and smiled at him. You had let Eddie stop you, even though you were late for something already, and Mike had heard how Robin softly said to Steve that you were definitely fucking each other, which had made Steve scoff loudly. "No, they're not!" Steve had exclaimed. But then they all saw how you looped fingers through a belt hoop on Eddie's jeans to pull him closer into you, and Robin had given Steve a look that said, see? And Steve had stared for a moment before stuttering, "Oh, so, maybe they are...".

"We've never dated," you stated, sensing Mike's confusion with your eyes back on Dustin and Eddie who had now seemingly found themselves in a snowball fight. Dustin hid behind what was starting to look like a snowman, but seemed abandoned now. They wouldn't finish it, you knew it, and that was okay, because numbness was starting to creep up your ankles and you really wanted coffee.

"Eddie!" you called. You saw him freeze and perk up to look at you, like a startled meerkat, big brown eyes locked right onto you and awaited what you were going to say next.

"Coffee!" you beckoned him with your whole upper body, unwilling to take your hands from your pockets, and Eddie came running immediately, under loud protest of Dustin and Mike. Because Dustin didn't want coffee. And Mike was so annoyed that Eddie hadn't listened to him when he called them over earlier.

You started walking and your numb feet felt weird in your shoes, but the movement in your legs was very welcoming. You fell into step with Mike and let Eddie and Dustin catch up with you. When Eddie got close, all wet hair and wild eyes, he latched onto your back and let out a shaking breath as he shivered up against you. He tried to sneak his hands into your pockets alongside yours, shoving them in, bunching up the sleeves of his coat as he did, and finding warmth there. He squeezed your hands through your gloves, and then you walked together like that, like that didn't make you love Eddie more than you already did.

"You can hold Mike," Eddie smiled when you felt Dustin's peering eyes burning holes into the two of you, and a short silence followed before Mike took off running. "Come here, Mike! Cuddle me!" Dustin shouted, as he chased after him and Eddie took the moment to sneak a kiss onto your temple as you laughed and let it fill your chest with pure love for him. Eddie was here.

That evening, you met Steve outside Wayne's trailer before all three of you headed in and enjoyed Wayne's cooking together. The trailer hadn't changed much – some obvious things were different, of course. There was no more fold-up bed in the corner of the living room. It wasn't as messy without all Eddie's things slung about. And it also wasn't as smelly inside – Eddie was never allowed to smoke indoors, but Wayne made long hours, and rules never really stopped Eddie. It was good that the trailer felt different, you thought. It made it feel less like you were a teenager still. Less like you'd traveled back in time.

You sat together, and ate Wayne's homemade meatloaf. "It's the only thing I can make that's decent enough," Wayne undersold his signature dish, like he always did. "Please tell me you have more that I can take with me," Eddie said through a mouthful, and with every bite he took, you thought Eddie looked better. Healthier, with more colour to his cheeks and more life in his eyes.

You ate until you couldn't anymore, you reminisced and you laughed. You didn't think you'd ever seen Wayne laugh the way he did when he told the story of how he once caught Steve sneaking out, trying to climb out of a window unsuccessfully, high as a kite, whilst the door right next to the window was wide open. Wayne laughed so hard, it squeezed tears from his eyes and he could barely make it through the story.

You saw Eddie lean back in his chair, his grin wide, love swelling his chest and flaring his ribcage as he looked at his uncle. He almost looked drunk with love and admiration, and for a second you thought Eddie had just invited you over for dinner at Wayne's because he knew that Wayne loved traveling back in time just as much as he did.

You all helped clean up before Wayne had to leave for his shift at work, and just before he walked out the door, Wayne spoke to you like you were all 16 and about to stay the night over at Eddie's.

"You let your parents know you're here?"

You and Steve looked at each other with stupid smiles, and then both nodded. "Yes, Mr Munson."

"There's pop in the fridge, and there's microwave popcorn, but don't let Eddie touch it, or he'll burn the place down."

There was still a black scorch mark in the kitchen from when Eddie had literally nearly burned the place down. All of your eyes found it, and you saw Eddie grin with a little guilt hidden underneath. It was nice to be at an age where you could joke about things Wayne had been so angry about at the time that they had happened, you could feel it bubble in your stomach and saw Steve almost burst from the strain of barely withheld laughter.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," these were words meant just for you, because Wayne knew they were rendered useless on Eddie and on Steve.

"And boys, look after her." and those were words meant just for Steve and for Eddie, because Wayne knew your parents and he always worried what they thought of you being over in his trailer without adult supervision.

"We will." Steve and Eddie spoke in unison, their tones entirely different from each other. Wayne smiled the smallest of smiles, having greatly enjoyed stepping back into the little routine, and left the three of you alone.

"Movie?" Steve then asked. "For old time's sake?"

And it was so stupid. Because sat on the couch together, it felt like nothing had changed in over ten years. You stared at Wayne's little old shitty TV that he still had, "Still works fine, don't need to replace things that aren't broken," and you picked a movie from a stack of tapes that still held exactly the same titles it did ten years ago. No new additions, everything the same, just labels more faded. You'd sat down in a corner of the couch and pulled your legs up, only for Eddie and Steve to immediately protest.

"I'm not middle-seating it,"

"Move,"

And so you were pulled and pushed into the center of the couch, one boy either side of you, and you sat through a full movie, not paying attention to a single thing that happened in it. Because you were sat next to Eddie, and it was freezing outside, but Eddie was warm - he was all you could feel and all you could think about. And at one point, Eddie's hand that was resting over the back of the couch fell onto your shoulder. And when Steve wasn't looking, Eddie used it to pull you into him and you snuggled up. But then when Steve did look, he didn't even seem fazed. Didn't even mention it. Because this was what it had always been like, and Steve loved his friends all the same, whether they were touching each other, or not.

That's when you felt her take over; your teenage self. You were her, all open, unrestrained and naive in all the best ways. You sighed and sunk into yourself, because you'd missed her. And you knew that she would fight adult-you if you were to deny a kiss from Eddie. Because that was how these nights always ended, didn't they?

Except this night, it didn't, because you weren't actually your teenage self with endless pits of energy within you, and you'd had a long day. It didn't help that whatever you were watching didn't interest you at all, and Eddie's breathing was rhythmic and deep. The last thing you remembered was Eddie and Steve make soft conversation over you as you'd let your eyes close. They said things about the movie. There was small talk about Wayne. You tried to stay awake, hoped that maybe you'd catch them exchange words about you, but you drifted off faster than you could grasp in the moment.

You stirred awake when you felt someone pull you upright by your arms and then guided them to sling over their shoulders. Then there were arms that wrapped around your waist, and a soft restricted groan close to your ear as you got hoisted up off of the couch.

"Mmhm?" So tired.

"Come on, we're getting you into the car," Eddie whispered, and you heard Steve huff a tiny laugh through his nose.

You moved your legs to walk, because you absolutely could walk, but strong hands underneath your thighs held you up and in place. A coat got draped around you, over you, covering you as best it could.

"Tie my scarf," Eddie softly instructed Steve. "So it won't fall," and you felt how something tied around the back of your neck that pulled with Eddie's movement, and you imagined the woven wool tied the two of you together. When Steve opened the door, a cold gust of wind ruined every little bit comfortability and you tightened your koala-grip around Eddie.

"Steve started the car 5 minutes ago, it'll only be cold for a second."

The next morning you woke up on your couch with your face pressed into Eddie’s back. Your made-up couch, where Eddie had placed you down onto the cool sheets after insisting that he also carried you into your apartment when Steve had driven you all back to your building. You’d accepted every touch and every hold with your eyes closed and your limbs slack. Steve had whispered good night when you got out of the elevator at your floor, and Eddie had suggested you could have breakfast together the next day.

“Why are we on the couch?” your voice, thick with sleep, spoke into the dark morning.

You obviously remembered going to sleep on the couch, but only just now wondered why exactly Eddie hadn't taken you into the bedroom, where you'd probably both be much more comfortable, would have a lot more space.

“Couldn’t let it go to waste,” Eddie’s voice was gravelly, like he’d been screaming into a microphone on a stage all night, or like he had a really bad cold. "You made it look very nice."

You pressed your lips against Eddie’s shoulder blade over his T-shirt. It wasn't a kiss per se, but a nice place to just rest your mouth for a little bit. You inhaled Eddie, his scent unmistakably him and you felt him snuggle backwards a little into you more. Confusion struck. You knew this fabric. You smelled your own laundry detergent in the mix of all things Eddie and leant back to get a better look at what he was wearing.

“Are you… are you wearing your old hellfire club T-shirt?”

“Mmh, found it in your pajama drawer,”

Eddie had caught a glimpse his old T-shirt and hadn’t hesitated to put it on, dressing himself in nostalgia, knowing it would fill his cup all the way up to the brim. How could it not? He had just watched a film in the trailer with you and Steve. He had spent the day fucking around with Dustin and Mike. And now, wearing his old T-shirt to bed? This is exactly the type of shit he went to Hawkins for. The type of shit he needed. That grounded him. It pulled him off his pedestal and forced him into his authentic self.

After pulling the T-shirt over his head, he had slid onto the couch next to you, and made sure he positioned himself lower than you, pressing his head underneath your chin. Let you hold him. Made him feel smaller. Younger. Like his old, teenage self.

"Is today your last day?" you loved Eddie in his hellfire club T-shirt. It transformed him more into the Eddie that you knew, inside and out.

"Alive? I hope not," Eddie was quick witted, but you didn't appreciate the joke and stayed silent. Eddie picked up on it immediately.

"They're picking me up tomorrow, yea,"

Eddie said it too neutrally. No emotion or feeling behind his words. You wondered which end of the scale he was on; was he ready to get out of here, or did he maybe wish he could have a little more time? It was probably the former, you thought, and you let it hurt your chest, regretting even thinking about it in the first place. You tightened your hold on Eddie. Pressed your cheek into his back more. You needed to burrow; disappear into everything that was overwhelmingly Eddie for as long as he would let you.

"Do you want to get up?" Eddie asked after a while, his voice suddenly normal, no trace of sleep left at all.

"No," you muffled into his T-shirt, and you felt his body shake with silent laughter.

"Come here,"

You were already there, you thought, but Eddie started shifting to turn around and maneuvered you underneath the covers until you were practically on top of him. He hugged you tightly to his body and you laid like that for a while. Eddie would sometimes kiss your head, swirl his nose into your hair and you could feel how your breathing started syncing up. Like you locked together, somehow. They were blissful moments of nothingness, just the two of you, and you wished they could last forever. You tilted your head and looked up, and without permission or the right, Eddie stole the chance to press kisses to your cheek, creeping closer to your mouth with every single one he planted onto you. You felt yourself at the far end of a bridge, and with every millimeter Eddie got closer to your mouth, you could envision him take big steps across it. You held the power to halt him, make him stop somewhere midway, but he was running, and you really wanted him to crash into you.

Eddie kissed you. It was slow and lazy. It felt dangerously familiar in all the right ways and all the wrong ways at once. Morning kisses turned into morning making out and you felt flutters all throughout your lower stomach that you tried very hard to ignore. Until you couldn't anymore, and you caught yourself, smiled into your kiss and forced it to break.

"Eddie, I don't think..." you started, but breathed as you looked at his mouth. Words faltered you entirely, because Eddie's mouth was there, and it wanted to kiss you, and God, wasn't that exactly what you yearned for?

"I know," Eddie knew exactly what you meant, not needing to hear the words to understand them. "I know."

When you heard a key turn in your front door, Eddie and you were still wrapped up in sheets together. "Steve." Eddie warned, and you knew he was right, immediately shooting up from the couch and scurrying into the kitchen. You pretended you were making coffee when Steve stepped into your living room. Steve was dressed, but the bedhead on him revealed he'd not been awake long at all.

"Breakfast?"

You made toast, and you scrambled some eggs – even parted some oranges for Eddie and Steve. Breakfast was enjoyed mostly in silence, and it was comfortable, just the three of you chewing, sipping, occasionally yawning and stretching. You all shared tired eyes and eventually talked about your plans for the day. Steve said Robin had time to hang out, and Eddie said he wanted to be outside. Go for a walk. See Hawkins in the snow some more, because it looked so nice, all dirt and grime covered up by thick blankets of shimmering white.

When Eddie went to the toilet, Steve eyed you for a second and then sighed loudly. He was annoyed with a capital A and his frown translated it loud and clear.

"It's worse this time, isn't it?" he scoffed, having observed you long enough to know he was right. "Why did you let it get worse?"

You were quick to shoot him down, not wanting to get into it right now. If you did, you'd argue, because it felt unfair for Steve to keep shifting all blame onto you when it was never just you, was it?

"Stop. Everything's fine," you actively gaslit him, and you were very aware of it too.

"Your bed looks extremely untouched in there, you're not fooling anyone," Steve pointed in the direction of your bedroom, having seen your pristine made up bed from the hallway when he'd walked in. Steve could deal with the two of you sharing a bed, but the couch felt different. The thought of you sharing a big bed left Steve the chance to at least pretend you both kept to your own sides of it with your backs towards each other. Finding Eddie untangling himself from the sheets on the couch, and your pajamas all twisted up around your body made him put two and two together. It's wasn't a hard puzzle to solve.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow," you got up and started clearing the table, desperate for this chat with Steve to end.

"Yes, we will, when I come over to peel you from your bathroom tiles, crying shell of a person," Steve seemed angry with you, spat his words with venom. You understood it was just worries from a friend, but all you wanted to do was get angry in return, even if it made no sense.

"Steve, I-" you hissed, but stopped yourself when you heard your toilet flush. It was just glares from the both of you then, eyes shooting daggers, calling each other names that couldn't reach Eddie's ears.

That afternoon, Robin had picked the three of you up and parked somewhere close to Lovers Lake. It had completely frozen over. You were about to say you should've all brought ice skates, but Robin was already on the ice. She took slow steady steps, unsure, and a little shaky. Steve followed, a lot more confident, and when the ice didn't crack when he jumped to demonstrate how thick it was, you and Eddie stepped on too. You held onto Eddie on the slippery ice and slid quite far out together, following Steve and Robin who figured out they could run without slipping or falling. They were laughing, chasing each other, and spinning in circles around you. Robin slid over and almost bumped into you, "I've not figured out how to stop yet," and took hold of both of your hands before she started running backwards, speeding up as she dragged you along. The thrill had you shrieking, and it was fun, even though there wasn't a single second you didn't think you were going to fall and hurt yourself.

When Robin slowed down a little, it gave you a chance to look over your shoulder, and you could see Steve and Eddie talk. You were too far away to hear them, too far away to even read their faces properly, but Steve seemed sad as he spoke, and Eddie seemed annoyed as he listened.

You asked Robin if she knew what they were talking about, and she giggled, "Probably confessing their undying love for each other," making you laugh. When the four of you joined each other again with flushed faces and cold fingers, you started on your way back to get off the ice, and Eddie seemed more distant.

Eddie didn't grab a hold of you the way you would've wanted him to. Eddie didn't reach for your hand to hold, even though his legs still seemed just as unsteady and wobbly. Eddie didn't wrap an arm around your shoulders as you walked back through the woods to where Robin had parked her car. And Eddie didn't want to sit in the backseat with you, calling shotgun and running the last few steps to the car to ensure his place in the front.

There was only one thing you could conclude; Steve had tried to be a good friend to you, had tried to let Eddie know to back off a bit, maybe. And you loved your good friend Steve, but could strangle him in the moment. All you had were glares for him from your spot in the car behind Eddie, which Steve pretended he didn't see, and Robin caught in the rearview mirror.

That evening, around 8pm, you all stepped into The Hideout, and you were a little shocked at the welcome you got. The welcome Eddie got. There were maybe 15 people, and the place had seemed quiet, people minding their own business, but when eyes landed on Eddie, everyone seemed up on their feet and he was hauled in like the super star he was.

Eddie was given drinks by strangers, talked to by everyone, all at once, and asked by the young band playing that night to sign their instruments. Random men patted him on the back, acted like they were long lost friends, and talked to him like they knew Eddie - talked to him like Eddie knew them.

It was overwhelming to witness, let alone be the guy who has to take it all in, and you sighed a breath of relief when you saw Steve had been able to grab a little table a bit further into the back for the four of you. Away from the bright lights that surrounded the bar. Away from the band who had already pulled Eddie up on stage and had pressed a guitar into his hands, "One song, Eddie! Come on!" and who was he to deny these young boys a little bit of fun?

When he stepped off stage after playing three, four, maybe even five songs, you touched Eddie's arm and pointed out where you were sat. Eddie just handed you the two drinks he'd already been handed by strangers and told you he'd be there in a second. Eddie took his time talking to anyone that wanted to talk to him. This was rockstar Eddie. Famous Eddie Munson. Eddie who lived somewhere high up on a pedestal. You admired him, because he was everything Eddie would've looked up to when he was younger, and now he had made it.

You admired him, were so proud of him, but you weren't sure if you necessarily liked him.

When Eddie eventually joined you, the four of you chatted, laughed, flipped coasters off the edge of the table and tried to catch them after just one rotation. Robin could stack several up and flip them all together, catching them all in one swift move, and you all tried to see if you could too, but made coasters fly instead. Eddie dared Steve to get on stage, sit behind the drumkit, give a dumb ba-dum-tss as if someone had just told him a bad joke. Steve called bluff on Robin when she said she was going to order a shot and try to get a girl's phone number. You went and got more drinks for all of you, and the bartender gave them to you for free, waved at Eddie in the back and made you wish you'd ordered more expensive drinks instead of just four beers.

The night was all giggles and pure joy, and you loved every second the four of you spent together so much, it made you forget that Eddie was leaving the next day. Eddie was there now, and that was all you really had, and all that really mattered.

Steve ended up being the first to leave and Robin dipped out not much later. It was only just past 11 when Eddie asked the owner to call a taxi for the two of you, and you finished your drinks in silence, Eddie's hand on your thigh, smiling stupid smirks and catching stolen glances. You knew where the night was headed, and you gladly let Eddie lead the way.

You made your way into your apartment by the sheer sense of intuition alone. You hadn't broken from one another since stepping into the elevator, and letting yourself into your apartment was a messy, fumbling, frustrating task, because Eddie wouldn't stop kissing you, and you liked how he pushed you up against the door too much. 

Getting to your bed eventually, you let Eddie push you back onto your mattress. A knee pressed into the springs in between your legs and he hovered over you with his hair cascading down, giving you tunnel vision. All you could see, feel, smell, hear and taste was Eddie. 

"Let's get you what you need,"

You moaned as you let him, taking all of what he was willing to give you in the moment. Eddie was all soft, caressing fingers with a caring mind that searched for a condom before getting himself anywhere near you. All attentive eyes and thoughtful lips. Until he wasn't. Until he grew rough. You could feel him slowly shift into the guy who you'd seen hold a guitar that night. The man he turned into when he stepped on stage. All confidence, all ego. You knew he wasn't just giving you what he thought you needed. Eddie was taking from you what he wanted and asked no permission, because he knew he already had it.

Eddie went for a shower after, and you hadn't hesitated to join him, unwilling to leave his side during these last few moments that you had with him. Eddie let you wash his hair, let himself melt under your massaging touch and the hot stream of water. He let you charge the last little bit of his inner battery, unaware he was draining yours simultaneously. You asked if you could braid his hair after combing it with him sat on the floor, one of your knees on either side of his shoulders, and he had just hummed, drowning in the bliss of having someone touch him like this. You french braided his hair out of his face and made sure his curl pattern would look nice when he'd undo them. Eddie curled his arms around your legs, and you knew it was the last bit of past Eddie you were going to get from him. Come tomorrow morning, he'd see one of his band members and he'd take the foot he still kept in the past and would scrape it along gravel towards his future. You had only now.

And now... here you were.

It was just past two in the morning, and Eddie was asleep in your bed whilst you were staring at him with tears escaping your eyes, willing time to slow down until it stopped entirely. You honestly really didn't mean to wake up him. You didn't. But you couldn't help the small sob that escaped you, even though you really tried, and you held your breath right after in hopes of the silence compensating it enough. 

But Eddie had heard you. Caught you, eyes blinking open and meeting the worst version of you. It was the wrong time and the wrong place to meet this version of you, and you mentally kicked yourself for it. Thick, salty tears had left your face wet, and when Eddie cupped your cheek with his hand, he felt what he hadn’t already been able to see in the dark.  

The adult in you didn’t want to argue, didn’t want to wake Eddie up any more than you had already done. The adult in you wanted Eddie to live his life for himself, the way he had been doing for the past however many years, chasing dreams he had never been able to shut up about when you were younger. The adult in you wanted success for Eddie in every single form he would accept it.  

But your teenage self kicked your adult self in the shins and shouted, "Fuck what you want, what about what I want?". You wanted to argue. To talk, at least. Be selfish in the moment and let go of what you held trapped in your heart, even if you knew Eddie wouldn’t know what to do with it – wouldn’t even really like it.  

"Stay."

Eddie didn’t hesitate, not even in this state of being half-asleep half-awake, and said, "I can’t stay."

"Please, stay. Stay for Christmas." You sniffed loudly, almost doing it on purpose to manipulate him into feeling sad for you. To show you some empathy and to indulge you in your need for him. 

"You know, I can’t stay, baby." Eddie made it sound softer that time, added a pet name, and hummed right after. 

You knew he meant he didn’t want to stay. Hawkins wasn’t Eddie’s present, or future for that matter. It was Eddie’s past; the past where he would step one foot back into every couple of months. The past he had to revisit in order to keep his future bright as he would stare at it up ahead. The second the mental image of his future started dulling, Eddie dove head first into his past, into you, until the sun would come back out. Then, he’d be off again.  

"That’s okay, I don’t want you to."

You sent mixed signals, but you meant them. Both were true. If Eddie didn't want to stay, you didn't want to keep him there. Eddie frowned with a type of confidence you didn’t appreciate.

"Lies."  

"I want you to stay if it’s not going to hold you back. I want you to stay because you want to stay. Maybe… maybe we shouldn’t..." You paused and tried to let your mind find the right words.

"Anymore." You added.

"This." You finished.

Eddie let the silence linger for longer than you liked, and the confidence you had seen in Eddie's expression faltered slightly. Just a little. Just enough for you to have seen it in the dark.

"You know I love you right?" Eddie tried saving it, but you didn't know if Eddie even knew what he was trying to save exactly.

"That doesn’t change anything. Love doesn’t make you stay for Christmas."

"I’ll stay for Christmas." Eddie moved in closer to you, pulled you into him to cuddle, to hold you as you cried. He wanted to give you this fantasy for a moment if it would get you through the night in one piece.

"You can’t." you protested, already ripping at the seams.

"I can’t." Eddie sighed.

Overnight, Eddie had changed from the guy who held you as you cried, to the guy who left your apartment with all of his things without waking you up to say goodbye.

Eddie had been there, jammed up high, all the way up in all of your senses until, very abruptly, he wasn't anymore.

Eddie was gone, and he had taken your teenage self with him, leaving you hollow, empty, barren, bleak, and lifeless.

Eddie was gone, and you let your hands reach for him across your mattress, feeling sharp pains in your chest when you didn't feel him there, your apartment was quiet.

Eddie was gone, and he had taken every trace of himself, like he had never even been there to begin with. Except for one thing. You knew it would be there. He always left one, and why would this time be different? You reached up for it without even opening your eyes, letting your fingers find it on the pillow where he'd rested his head before he'd walked out on you.

A little note.

A small message to leave you with. A message that was meant to hold you over until you'd see him again. But would you? See him again?

You cracked open eyes that were already wet and let them adjust, blink into focus, to read what words Eddie felt would excuse his absence.

"Merry Christmas x"

Eddie was gone. And so were you. Read the sequel: Over Now

-----

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#secret santa project #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #rockstar!eddie #rockstar!eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie imagine #fanfiction

[joelswritingmistress]

Last Halloween: Chapter 25

Summary: After a tragedy involving Joel happened on Halloween one year prior, the town now shuns him while ignoring the details of the now closed case. You are seemingly the only one to offer empathy to a man the town is making out to be a monster.

Warning: Rated M (s m u t/fluff)

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

"What if we were together at this time next year?" You asked Joel, toying with his hair as you laid naked beside him beneath a collection of blankets on an oversized lounge chair.

"I'm counting on it." He slipped a piece of candy corn into your mouth and you smiled, purposely attempting to hold the tip of his finger between your lips for a second or two. "Hoping at least."

"I mean.. would you do it then?" You asked.

"Do what?"

"Run away," you asked. "Start over. With me."

Joel smirked and brought your knuckles to his lips. "I would certainly consider it." He winked and you melted further into the puddle you had become. "Would you?"

You slowly nodded and a smile spread across your face. "They need nurses everywhere. I'll be done with my classes."

"I'm sure I could find work," Joel added.

You were indulging so much in that fantasy that you didn't want to leave that false reality - at least for the time being. A happy ending, you and Joel, this town in your rearview mirror and all the horror left in the past. It was truly dreamy.

Joel leaned toward you and you met him halfway to share a series of kisses. Your fingers curled around his bearded jawline as he moved on to your neck.

The feel of his facial hair against the sensitive skin of your neck left you sighing in his ear. You snaked an arm around his bare shoulders to pull him in closer. Your body naturally slunk down to a supine position on the oversized chair and you ran a hand the length of Joel's back as he nipped along your collar bone.

Your chest heaved up and down with a deep breath you couldn't suppress as your desire climbed again.

And then Joel was sliding lower down your stomach, the blankets still clinging to his body while exposing yours as he took them with him until he kneeled by the end of the footrest. His hands clamped down on your thighs and he kissed down from your lower stomach to the inner crease of your leg.

You arched your hips in anticipation and let out a moan. Your stomach tightened and you bit down on your bottom lip as he moved his face between your legs, positioning in shoulders beneath your thighs.

"Joel." You whined his name from the immediate pleasure. You didn't know whether you wanted to push him back because you couldn't handle the intensity or secure him there permanently.

Joel's arms tightened around your legs and he did things with his tongue that left your entire lower half trembling.

His hair was perfect for grabbing and you simply couldn't help it. You ran your fingertips through his wavy locks and gripped his hair when he indulged in you more thoroughly.

"God.." you gasped the word and as you moved your hips, Joel secured you firmly in place beneath his grasp. His tongue hit places that left you grasping the fabric on the chair and writhing from the pleasure.

You could have came rather easily from Joel going down on you but you wanted all of him.

"Come here," you choked out the words, "Joel."

When he stopped you almost wished you hadn't asked him to. And then his mouth crashed fiercely against yours again and he was inside of you a second later.

Your spread knees raised high up against the outsides of his hips as your hand still tangled his hair. The other squeezed the area where his lower back met the top of his buttocks, welcoming him into you where he belonged.

Joel alternated between kissing you and breathing heavy as he moved on top of you. He moaned each time you did as you fed off of each other's energy.

You knew you would never get sick of this. You could have laid there all night underneath him, letting him kiss you, touch you, whisper against your ear..

When the two of you finally laid still in the darkness you cradled Joel by your chest as he laid with his eyes closed. Your fingers gently stroked through the waves of his hair as you eyed the white, swirling patterns on the ceiling.

Now that you were laying in complete quiet, you could hear the faint creaks of the other tenants walking around upstairs.

"I wonder if they could hear us," you wondered aloud, though for whatever reason you weren't embarrassed.

"Who?" Joel asked, not opening his eyes.

"The people upstairs," you said quietly. "They probably think we're a couple of sex crazed maniacs."

You felt Joel smile against you and he finally lifted his head to look up at you. "They wouldn't be wrong."

A slow smile crept across your face and you accepted another kiss from him as he moved back up to meet your eye level.

Joel locked his fingers with yours by your head. "Not bad for an old man."

"The best I've ever had."

"It doesn't bother you?"

"What?" You asked.

"My, uh.. my age?"

You smiled wider and pecked his lips chastely. "Does it look like it bothers me?"

"No." Joel smirked and you sighed against his lips. "I really do love you."

"I love you, too."

You pulled him into a hug on top of you and closed your eyes when he kissed just below your earlobe and down your neck. Joel then laid his head beside you and you hugged him again.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

You rubbed his back. "I plan to make up for all you've been through this year."

"You already have."

There were more creaks from above you and Joel let his eyes flicker open and glanced upward. He paused for a second before saying, "Yeah, they definitely heard us."

You laughed out loud and Joel joined in a second later. It gave you a second to quickly reposition yourself on top of him.

He still smiled wide as you looked down as you hovered above him.

"What do you say we Door Dash something?" You glanced over your shoulder toward the dying fireplace. "And throw a few more logs on the fire."

"Okay." He allowed you to lock his hands above his head as you leaned town to kiss him again. In a tease you pushed your bare hips against his and he laughed, painfully so.

Joel groaned. "My recovery isn't that fast." He smiled when you laughed again.

"I'm teasing." You pecked his lips another time. "Where's the firewood?"

"I'll get it."

Joel looked like he would be perfectly content not moving for days from the way he laid in the oversized chair beneath the collection of blankets. His lazy posture and satisfied facial expression made you shake your head and insist.

"Tell me. The front porch?"

Joel slowly nodded with his eyes closed again. When you pushed back off of him to retrieve your clothes he picked his head up, watching you dress. You tossed the fleecy, throw blankets back over him.

Looking at Joel laying there made you lean down and kiss him once more, making it last. "Save my place for me?"

"Mmm," he moaned against your lips. "Always."

"I'll be right back."

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

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[mossmurdock]

Wishing In the Rain (the sun is my shooting star)

ao3

summary: Satoru finds himself in the corners of a bookstore by complete chance, entranced with its very endearing owner and their love for the rain. The bleak and gloomy weather gains a new meaning through time, and along with that comes the not so subtle change in Satoru's feelings towards the owner themselves.

tags: very brief appearance of kugisaki and fushiguro and itadori, rain, the reader and their jewelry, gender neutral reader, bookstores, implied sexual content, reader owns said bookstore btw, denial of feelings, its one sided though because satoru is an idiot, alternate universe-cannon divergence, i made him a bit softer than i intended in this, but idc i think he should be loved, not beta read, fluff

notes: i wrote this almost two years ago now! unbelievable :o but it still has such a special place in my heart since i wrote it during a pretty difficult time and i wanted to finally share it with yall on here!!

EVERYTHING led back to the night Satoru had mistakenly fallen asleep at your apartment. The tiny trail of breadcrumbs that was his stale conflict deliciously pointed to it. And Satoru followed it like a famished, foolish fowl. A fool, really. He was at the scene of the crime laminating evidence. 

He had met you at a bookstore of all places: silent, still, and sobering. The complete opposite of where Satoru would usually meet the people he would eventually decide on following home or vice versa. 

It is rainy and he suddenly decides on pretending to need shelter.

You were shelving books in the isle he happened to be sitting in for at least two hours by then. All the way in the back of the store, slowly pushing your cart, slowly inching closer to his end of the narrow and dusty hallway. Satoru had been sitting against a wall with a window over him, the gray sky spraying itself on your extending arms. You would face the cart, select a book, brush soot off of its cover the best you could, push it into the shelf (with your thumb, index, and middle finger), and then push the cart again to start all over. Sometimes you would need to crouch to lower shelves, grimacing anytime you needed to. There was a small curse on your shoulder that would press its small finger into the side of your neck anytime you did. 

Satoru cannot remember exactly what it was he had been reading, but you spoke to him about it once reaching the end of his hall with your creaky cart. Quietly, you whispered to him that it was a good pick, praising him for his selection. And while doing so you were slyly reaching into the back of the gray cart, placing a similar volume near him. 

“I noticed it covered a lot more,” you said.

Between page twenty-four and twenty-five of the book was your number scribbled on the back of a bookmark. He notices it just as you are turning a corner, the curse on your shoulder suddenly gone (he pretends to not notice his hand waving it away).

Satoru had pocketed the set of digits before cashing in and exiting the small nook of a store, which maybe was his first real mistake. Satoru never called, so why had he kept the number in the first place?

Instead he showed up at the same store, the same day; only this time it was much later and the rain had gotten time to make itself heavier than before.

You fell into him in front of the bookstore doors unexpectedly, with quick hands and even quicker lips. You fit into his chest too perfectly for someone he barely knew the name of.

Satoru’s jacket is on the floor of your bedroom and he is pretty sure that dreaded bookmark is burning a hole through the fabric.

He at least was able to save himself by leaving as fast as he could, making sure to grab everything that was his and not leaving even a trace of himself behind. 

For some reason he finds himself back in front of that bookstore only a week later. A bookmark he does not plan on using (he folds the ears of his pages) still very much in his left pocket. 

“You’re back?” you ask. 

“Of course I am. Plus, it is still raining. I needed shelter.” Satoru seriously should not be here, because you string him along into thinking that he could have ‘stayed for breakfast if he had wanted’ and that there would be a ‘next time’. 

You tell him to save your number into his phone.

“How do you know I haven’t yet?” he asks. 

You look at him up and down, still working with your hands: multitasking in a blur Satoru for some reason is hardly able to catch.

“You don’t seem like the type.”

There’s a book you leave on the counter when you leave to what Satoru safely presumes is the back of the store. 

It's titled ‘Souhaiter’. And in between the same pages as the first time, a bookmark tells him to meet you at a bar he has only ever been to once before. 

Satoru shows up late and with his jaw aching. You do not mind that he does not drink as much as you do. 

And slowly, Satoru laxes. This is something he is more used to. The subtle tipsiness of movement, music that's a little too loud, and the flirtatiousness of two knees brushing underneath a table. 

You down a drink and leave the stool, still half laughing from something funny he said. You tell him you are going to the bathroom by leaning into him, neon lights bouncing off the whites of your teeth. 

You don't come back. 

At first Satoru is worried he somehow missed some sort of lead you were putting down, having missed a hot moment that he convinced himself is what he showed up for in the first place. But he does not find you there when he goes looking. 

Satoru officially ends his night with his phone up to his ear, a set of familiarized numbers flashing on the screen. He tells himself he did not remember your phone number by heart. It was absolutely an accident, he might even be ringing the wrong number. By the third ring he feels relieved that he might be right. 

But then you pick up and it feels like his stomach drops. 

“Hey! Leave a message after the beep!” You laugh, it tells Satoru that this is not an automated voice message. There is that subtle unevenness tilted between your breaths that he felt next to his ear only a half hour ago.

“I’m kidding—obviously—” 

Another voice cuts in, much more slurred than yours. “Look it’s raining!” 

You hush them, still laughing. “How’s it going, whoever you are?”

“It’s Satoru. Gojo Satoru.” He does not know why he repeats himself. 

“Oh!” It’s the first time he hears you startled. “Satoru!” It’s the first time you say his first name.

“Oh,” he repeats. He repeats and does it over, he will do it over.  The straying thought makes his stomach flip again, it makes him forget about the rain pelting onto his hair.

“I totally bailed on you…” you sigh.

“You did. After inviting me. That’s never—”

“The Gojo Satoru has never been stood up?” you interrupt. 

“Obviously not.”

“Well I’m not glad to be the first, just for the record. I was really looking forward to you.”

A pause. 

“You called though,” you say cheekily. “Didn’t think you had it in you. Think you could save it? Or are the Gojo Satoru’s contacts completely filled?”

He contemplates, finds himself smiling and wonders if there’s a drink in his hand. But the smile isn’t tipped at all, it is set and leveled. 

“I don’t know…I might need to make some room.” He sucks a breath through his teeth, as if this was very difficult. In a way, this very much was. 

He pretends to ‘make room’ by making electronic noises and random ‘ums’ and ‘uhs’. It makes you giggle. 

“Oh!” Satoru exclaims. 

“Oh,” you repeat. You repeat, and he hopes you do it over. 

“As it turns out, there is room! Fitting you in right this second.”

You let out a feigned sigh of relief, and after your performance you add: “You’ll call me?”

Satoru finds himself saying yes before he can even realize he’s actually saving your contact information instead of pretending to do so. The screen of his phone is wet. 

You slam him against a wall much like the first time. With your hand to his chest and the other snaking its way up to his shoulder. Satoru this time has to painfully deal with the harder edges of the bookshelf behind him, it jostles, stories threaten to spill out above him. He debates turning on his infinity, instinct telling him a book might fall straight onto his head; but the hand that had been on his shoulder has already made it to his waist and he would want nothing to stop the feeling. And at the same time, your head tilts into his neck. 

There’s something about your lips that matches this place. Something about being timeless and the permanence of ink.

Words can be fleeting though, and you’re off of him right as things seem to be getting started. 

“I really don’t appreciate the teasing.” Satoru pouts. 

You smile. “Not teasing. Just making up for the bar thing.”

“That hardly felt like enough compensation.”

“Compensation for what?” You scoff, already back at the register as if you had not been unraveling him seconds ago. 

“My feelings.” He expresses sadly.

Exasperated, you plant your elbows on the register desk and look at him pointedly. 

“Don’t you have some meeting? I don’t want to ruin the small amount of professionalism you’ve somehow managed to gather.”

Satoru gasps, “I’ll have you know I’m very professional on a day to day basis.”

“Sure. Remind me when blindfolds started being professional?” you ask. 

“This is an aesthetic choice—one that you very much said I pulled off just an hour ago,” he reminds. You wave him off. 

“And besides.” He leans into your space. “the rain hasn’t stopped yet.”

Impossibly closer. You smell like fresh earth, like tea leaves and dust. 

It is a forgettable and slow Sunday: the store is void of its usual customers, and pink stained sunlight lazes its way inside the building. 

You cling to his shirt to bring him closer to you, chest to chest and breath to breath. Tugging on his lip just enough for it to hurt him. Just enough for him to let out a sound. 

When Satoru reaches the Jujutsu higher ups, he is late and ruined by you. 

One of them mentions the rainy season: small talk he does not care for; but it brings a wicked grin to his face. 

“Why aren’t you wet?” you ask Satoru. 

“What?” He chuckles through a mouthful of chocolate croissant, still warm. “That hardly seems like an appropriate question to be asking in public—but hey, if you’re into that—”

This is not a date, Satoru should know as much simply because he has repeated it both aloud and to himself at least hundreds of times since the morning has started. The problem is that it feels like it is; him buying you breakfast, his arm around your shoulders (to keep you warm, he jokes), you moving to hold his hand because you just cannot help being that bold (to keep you warm, you say), him giving said hand up because he for once cannot think of doing anything else. And because his hesitance would have only made you laugh at him without the slightest drop of malic to it. 

This ‘not date’ is being held in the largest bakery Satoru has ever been in before. It was walking distance from your house, barely 5 minutes away. The only problem was that it had started drizzling again and the two of you had only just gotten out of the shower. The sky was also very bleak, too foggy for it to actually seem like early morning.

Turns out it was barely any problem at all. You liked the rain, and for Satoru, it obviously did not matter in the slightest. 

Turns out it is a problem though, because Satoru has just walked through rain and barely has a drop of precipitation on him; his hair, while it should be at least a little frizzy from the humidity, still lays perfectly. And you have finally noticed said detail. 

“That’s not what I meant.” You wipe crumbs from the corner of your mouth. “You’re completely dry.”

“Guess your umbrella wasn’t as broken as you thought.” He gives you a winning smile, but it only makes you squint your eyes at him suspiciously. The bar stool’s coolness is barely hitting his back, but he watches the raindrops racing down the bakery window reflect off of your face: just as cool and gray as the seat; and it gives him the same shiver up his spine that the cold chair is meant to. 

“Are you…water resistant?” you ask him genuinely. It makes him burst out into laughter, the sound of the rain hitting the roof claps along with him in his amusement. 

“What?” He chokes. “You just saw me in the shower.”

You shrug, “To be fair, I was focusing on other things at the moment.”

Satoru hums at that. “For someone who says they aren’t a morning person, you were pretty eager—”

“I’ll stop you right there.” You interrupt him, taking another bite of your food and another sip from your drink. Both have probably chilled by now. 

“When did I mention to you that I wasn’t a morning person? Are you stalking me or something?”

No. Satoru was not a stalker, contrary to his friend’s beliefs (Nanami). 

But what everyone did know was that he was observant. 

When he came to see you this morning you opened the door with too many hearts on your sleeves. Your store is an hour or so from opening and a transit bus away, yet you are still wearing pajamas. You look freshly out of bed: bleary eyes and awkward posture. One side of your cheeks has the markings of a blanket and pillow on it, your arm hands by its side limply, the other drops from the doorknob only to rub at your sore face. 

Your voice is hoarse and soft, like a crushed plum; and you are too tired to notice him blatantly fawning over you, or the way he hastily kissed your cheek before walking in. A gesture much too soft to be shared with a hook up. 

But Satoru can barely call you that now. Not with a pastry he just bought you sitting comfortably in your stomach and his coat hanging heavily over your shoulders. 

He says, “No. You just looked like shit this morning.” You punch him on the shoulder before moving to check the gold watch on your wrist. It is old and thin, he had first thought it was broken when he had seen it on your nightstand that first night. 

“Man, I’ve really got to open.” You grab your drink and drop from the stool. 

“I should go. Thanks for everything.” 

You do not kiss him goodbye or even squeeze his hand as a farewell. You do something much much worse. 

You whisper to him, “Come by again later tonight.” And you leave without taking your broken umbrella with you.

And you leave out the door with his coat.

Part of him thinks it is because you forgot you were wearing it and because the pouring has ceased; but the other part knows it is because the suggestion is the complete opposite of a goodbye. 

And because you will need to see him to return the coat. 

And because he will be reminded to buy you a new umbrella.

Satoru is beginning to become very fond of the rain.

The water ricochets from the roof of your apartment any time he is over and it begins to pour, which is more often than not. Placed on the top of the apartment building, it is the same as his luxurious home, top floor and closest to the sky; yet less empty and filled with more than just the echo of his own voice. Here, he feels full and soft, your own breath filling the already comfortable silence. 

You look pretty underneath him. 

You look pretty with him, He thinks. 

Satoru falls gently onto your chest, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly.

He has run out of excuses to see you comfortably, and it is all the weather’s fault. He damns the clear sky for days. 

Satoru damns it to hell; all of its annoyingly crystal blue and streaky pure white clouds. This has been the longest dry spell in weeks and the sudden heat has forced him to self-reflect. It has forced him to think of you more outside of when he was allowed to. The atmosphere of it all is uncomfortable: his blindfold barely sits coolly on his face anymore, curse blood no longer washes off of him easily, the smell of wet concrete is replaced by the hot stench of asphalt.

The hands of others are too clammy, too balmy, too blistering in all the wrong ways. He misses the brisk feeling of your fingernails on his skin. 

It has been two weeks since Satoru has seen you. Two weeks since he has walked even a mile near your store, your home, that bar, or the bakery. Two weeks since he has bought himself a new phone on the excuse that the other model was old, and not because his prior had a contact on it he was too much of a coward to delete. 

The lack of air conditioning in his apartment has been ignored for two weeks as well, and when he wakes up with the sheets sticking to him for the millionth time, he decides it is time to buy a new one. 

He should have known they would have been sold out in most places. The city has fallen into an air conditioning shortage crisis that he very much does not appreciate after walking into the fourth store of the day. After the familiar welcome song of the glass sliding doors, Satoru’s legs extend their way to the electronics section as fast as they are able to. 

Through his darkly tinted glasses, he scans for anything that would provide him with some sort of fresh air. His hand collides with another. 

Satoru wonders if you feel the pressure of his infinity holding up before he realizes it is you. If you had felt the physical manifestation of walls breaking down. 

“Satoru?” You look up at him while still bent down as he is. He imagines the situation looks a little ridiculous to any outsider: two pedestrians stuck in their crouched places in an isle and staring at each other in subtle shock. His hand sits still next to yours. 

It is covered in gold rings, cold to the touch, and your wrist hangs with a dainty bracelet attached to it. Against his ankle, he can feel the breeze of your long, flowy skirt brush against him. 

“Sorry, who are you?” He plays dumb. 

If it were any other person he’s sure he would have gotten a slap to the face at the comment, but you almost burst out in laughter. Casually, you reach up to his face and pluck the glasses from his face as you stand to your full height. Satoru finds himself following you. 

Staring at his bare face, you smile at his eyes. 

“It is you!” You twirl the specs in your hand as he tries and purposefully fails at retrieving them from you. 

“It would have been funny if it wasn’t though, right?” 

No, it wouldn’t have been. Satoru’s face actually almost falls at the thought of you speaking so charmily with someone else. 

“More like awkward.” You chuckle easily, it's refreshing, like iced tea. 

“Where have you been?” you ask. “Felt like the heat made you disappear or something.”

And of course you had noticed, Satoru thinks, as you pull the glasses to your own face and slip them on. They don’t flatter you at all. 

“Can’t a man be busy?” He doesn’t mean to sound so snappy, but you’re too patient. 

When you look up at him again, he can only see the way your eyebrows raise at his response to your question. 

Your head turns at the sound of someone else walking into the convenience store, Satoru’s does as well. While his neck stretches to the front of the store he watches your hand snatch up the small air conditioner in the corner of his eye. 

“Anyway,” Your voice makes his neck crane back to its original place. “I’m heading back to the store, I don’t want to leave it alone too long with my new employees.” You sigh. 

“You hired people?”

“Yeah. I needed more help around after the rainy season ended, business has been spiking recently.” There’s a proud tilt on your lips. 

“You’re free to come with, you know? I drove here, I could give you a ride.” 

Satoru doesn’t really know what else to do besides watching you pay for the fan he was going to buy and sitting in the passenger seat of your car. 

“I’m back!” you exclaim lightly into your store. There’s a new bell attached to the front of your door that chimes, it sounds better than the old one. 

Two voices overlap each other as you make your way to the cashier and Satoru follows with his hands in his pockets. You set down the plastic bag on the old wooden counter. He notices a new register having been placed ever since he had last visited. 

“Boss!”

“Please tell me you at least found a fan.”

Three figures make their way from the back: the new employees you had quickly told Satoru the names of in the car. They all pause for a second when he meets their eyes. 

“Who’s this?” Nobara asks. 

You look over to Satoru, as if having forgotten he was standing there all together. “Just a friend. Introduce yourself, Satoru.”

Before he can, the one with black hair: Megumi, speaks up. “I know you.” The boy says accusingly. “You always ordered the worst coffees at my last job, they were a pain to make,” he grits out.

Satoru smiles sweetly. “Always feels great to be remembered.”

It makes the other only scowl further, while Yuji looks between the two of them.

“You’re too handsome to just be a friend. Was that some sick way of rejecting him just now?” Nobara says bluntly. It makes you laugh. 

You change the subject by patting the plastic bag still in front of you, the thud of the cardboard box catching the attention of all of them. 

“You three set this up for me, ok? I’m going to stock what you guys weren’t able to with Satoru.”

A string of affirmations make their way through the room as Satoru and you leave to the back.

The back of the store seems to be the same as it was the first time he had exchanged books with you. That same window is there, you are pushing the same loud gray cart, and most importantly: Satoru is still not quite sure how he has ended up here. 

The only difference is the sun, the lack of pitter pattering rain. Dust is highlighted by the strong dusk, he can see the copper shadows of your arm as you line book after book into its shelves. The sound of hard covers rubbing against each other meets his ears just as fast as the words that leave your lips. 

“You do know you can come see me when it isn’t raining, right?”

Another book is shelved, arm extended, fingers curving around a spine. 

“I—”

“Because it really is funny how I’ve only ever seen you while the weather’s shit.”

Your rings blink at him through rays, they twinkle.

“I thought you loved the rain.” Satoru leans into the bookshelf you’re working and catches your eye. 

You scoff at him, you're finding this very funny, like Satoru is missing out on a big joke. 

"Of course I do." 

“Then what’s the problem?”

“It’s just—” You put away the last novel and then move to push the cart behind you: resting your forearms on it while leaning just the slightest bit away from him. You are standing at an angle Satoru is happily willing to lean into even more, almost caging you in. 

You whisper, “I think I’d like seeing you in the sun.”

You pause.  “I think your hair would look even nicer—your eyes too, if that wasn’t already obvious—and I have this feeling you like popsicles more than ice cream. Which is great, because there’s this popsicle stand not too far from here but they’re only ever open during the summer—when it isn’t raining.”

Stunned, Satoru pushes the word through his throat. “You think?”

“I know.” A little louder than the last, more conviction. 

There’s a light in your eyes that grows as the cart that has been holding your weight begins to roll away from all of the pressure. Your arms lose their support behind them, making you trip trying to catch yourself while falling backwards. Satoru’s infinity subsides, like storm clouds parting away. He reaches an arm around your waist just in time to catch you. 

He is breathless. And not because of your beauty, or because of the near fall; but because you are laughing. 

He does not know what else to do but kiss the stars from your lips, to laugh an apology into you, to stamp a promise of another night falling asleep next to you. 

Satoru wants to watch the sun rise with you this time. 

#i cannot believe how much i think about this fic still #im still so proud of it and that used to happen very rarely #anyway enjoy my lovelies! i hope yall like it! #moss writes #jjk x reader #satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader

[smartycvnt]

Showstopper

Title: Showstopper Pairing: Becky Lynch x Reader Prompt: 1. "Shh, there's people in the other room." MINORS DNI, 18+ Warnings: smut, top Becky, bottom reader, thigh riding, semi-public sex R WC: 743

"Fuck!" Y/n exclaimed as she tripped and nearly fell backwards onto the floor. Becky caught her and pinned Y/n up against the wall. She hiked up the bottom of Y/n's skirt as the two of them made out with each other. It was the least Becky could think to do to keep Y/n's moans from becoming too loud. Y/n had never been good at being quiet, but Becky didn't want to wait to have her. They had been teasing this for the past hour and a half, and Becky had worked hard to create a diversion for them to sneak away together.

"Shh, there's people in the other room. I'd hate for us to get interrupted," Becky warned. Y/n nodded and placed Becky's hand over her mouth as an extra precaution. Becky's mouth and throat suddenly felt very dry looked at Y/n in front of her. Becky closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath to regain control of herself. The last thing that Becky wanted was to talk a big game early in the night and completely lose it later on and rush into things.

Y/n didn't seem to mind Becky taking her time. Becky kept her hips angled away from Y/n as she kissed along the side of Y/n's neck. Becky desperately wanted to kiss Y/n, but if she took her hand away from Y/n's mouth, there was a good chance she'd forget to put it back. Becky shoved her free hand underneath Y/n's top and brushed her fingers teasingly over Y/n's nipples. She alternated between them until she had Y/n jutting her hips forward for any chance at friction. That was when Becky knew that she was ready.

"I wish that we had the time for me to bury my face in between your legs," Becky muttered as she rolled her hips into Y/n's center. "This will have to do for now though, because I can't fucking wait any longer."

Becky could only imagine how nice, warm, and wet Y/n was in that moment. Becky could feel some of the heat as Y/n ground her hips against Becky's thigh to get herself off. All that Becky could really do was watch as Y/n moved frantically in an attempt to make herself cum. Becky was certain that Y/n's underwear were beyond ruined, just like Becky's pants would be. Becky wouldn't throw them away though, she'd keep them in the back of her closet as a reminder of the way she affected Y/n. It would be another reminder of the nights that they would spend together whenever they were fortunate enough to run into one another at parties and events.

"I bet they're all wondering where you are right now. Everybody is always talking about you Y/n, they're always watching you, but you don't care. I can feel your eyes on me whenever I come to your little parties. You're lucky, you got to be some rich man's trophy wife without giving up the best fuck you've ever had," Becky muttered as she moved her hand down from Y/n's breast to Y/n's hip. Becky pulled Y/n down a little harder as she felt the woman's thighs start to shake. Becky longed to have her head in between those thighs licking up every drop of Y/n's arousal that she could coax out, but for tonight, she'd settle on watching Y/n grind herself against Becky's thigh instead.

Becky stepped away from Y/n as the music started to get quieter on the other side of the door. They'd have to find different ways to leave the room. Becky got started out the window while Y/n walked right out the door. A few people turned towards her with questioning looks, but said nothing as Y/n moved past them like a bat out of hell. She didn't turn towards anybody as she walked out of the house and down the street. Just as Y/n rounded the corner away from her house, she saw Becky's car pull up by a stop sign. Y/n opened the door to see Becky staring up at her from the driver's seat.

"Let's go," Y/n said as she got into the car. Becky didn't have to be told twice as she sped down the street towards her hotel.

#my writing #wwe x reader #wwe #becky lynch #becky lynch x reader

[justgleekout]

Are We Ever Gonna Be Okay Again?

Summary: An alternate timeline in which Kurt did go to Lima for Christmas and he and Blaine had that much-needed heart-to-heart.

But uh-oh! It's angst and they cry.

Rating: G

Words: 2273

Additional tags: Missing Scene, Fix-It, Episode: s04e10 Glee Actually, Alternate Timeline, Blangst, angst with hopeful ending, Mostly Canon Compliant, talks about cheating

Notes: Would you believe it? I've written something again!

It always bothered me that Kurt and Blaine never had a real conversation about Blaine's cheating. So this is me exploring the hows and whys and filling the gaps the writers had left. This is heavy on the emotional (bl)angst. Sorry, I like to inflict pain on this fandom.

And of course, thank you to the best beta in the world @esperantoauthor (Esperanto on Ao3)! <33

Read on Ao3

When the doorbell rang, Blaine was shaking. He hadn't seen Kurt since the opening night of McKinley's rendition of Grease. And that encounter had left him almost feeling worse than when he left New York after Kurt and he had just broken up. Blaine felt nauseous. He tried to swallow the feeling away, but his mouth was dry. He opened the door and when he saw Kurt in the doorway it was all he could do not to cry. 

“Hey,” Kurt said, his voice barely above a whisper, and he gave Blaine the faintest of smiles. A smile so small and unsure that Blaine almost wished he hadn’t smiled at all.

The air between them was thick and heavy. With so many things yet unspoken, so many emotions unshown. Blaine wanted to reach out. He wanted to enfold himself in Kurt's arms, but he didn’t want to scare Kurt away, so he settled for a small, “Hey,” in return. “Do you want to come in? It's freezing.” The incredible normality of that sentence made him sick to his stomach. Nothing about this was casual and they both knew it.

“Yeah, okay.”

Blaine stepped back and Kurt entered his house. 

“Did you want to come up to my room?” 

Kurt shrugged. “Sure.” He tried to smile again, but it didn't reach his eyes. He followed Blaine up the stairs into his room and sat down on the edge of Blaine's bed. His back was oddly straight, and he stared down at his hands. 

Blaine closed the door behind them. He didn't know why he closed the door; his parents weren't home. Maybe it was to keep Kurt from running away. To hold them together. To shield them. Blaine took a breath and sat down on the bed next to Kurt, making sure to leave enough space between them. 

“So..” Kurt said. He glanced at Blaine. He looked apprehensive and it hurt Blaine. It felt awful to see the person he loved, look at him with fear and doubt and not be able to reach out to comfort him especially because he was the reason Kurt felt like that in the first place. “How have you been?” A question usually thrown into small talk so casually now felt incredibly heavy. 

“Awful,” Blaine said truthfully. If this was supposed to be a heart-to-heart, he might as well be honest. 

Kurt nodded, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “Me too.”

“Kurt, you must know how sorry I am. God, I am so sorry I don't think I will ever be able to say it enough for it to cover the severity of how much I mean it, but-” 

Blaine was sure his heart stopped when he felt Kurt's hand on his leg. “I know. I believe you,” Kurt said. “And I meant it when I said I wanted to forgive you. But it’s hard for me, Blaine. I thought I could trust you with my life and then you…”

Blaine flinched. “I know.” 

“But maybe we can talk about how we can move forward?” Kurt prompted. He actually looked hopeful.

Blaine bit his lip. He wanted to move forward, but he couldn’t do that without moving back for a bit. He took a deep breath to gather the courage to speak, “I would actually really like to tell you what happened and why I did what I did.” It came out faster than he had hoped, but he had said it. “I also want to explain how I felt when you-”

Kurt stiffened and retreated his hand. “You don't get to blame me for cheating, Blaine,” he said slowly. 

Blaine felt like he had been slapped in the face. Where did that come from? “I- I'm not blaming you. I just want to explain how I felt. I-”

Kurt closed his eyes and shook his head. “I don't wanna fight about this again.”

Blaine wanted to take Kurt's hand, as if touching him would make him understand, but he didn't. “I don't want to fight about this either, Kurt, but we never really fought about it in the first place. We never even talked about what happened… you just decided you didn't want to hear what I had to say and let me drown in guilt.”

“Oh, I’m sorry I made you feel guilty for cheating on me,” Kurt snapped and stood up from the bed. 

Blaine stared at Kurt. The fear and sadness he felt before, made room for frustration. “Kurt, you know that's not what I mean.. I- Can we please just talk about this? That's why you’re here right? To have a conversation?”

“I’m not going to listen to you just trying to defend yourself, Blaine.” His voice was cold and flat. 

Blaine started to feel the desperation rise in his chest. “You are not listening, Kurt.” He was forcing himself not to cry, though tears were burning in his eyes. 

Kurt pursed his lips and started walking to the door. He was leaving. “This was a mistake.“ 

But before Kurt could reach the door knob Blaine stood up. “Can you please just listen to me!?” Blaine snapped, tears finally falling. He didn't want to raise his voice. He didn't want to fight, but Kurt just wasn't hearing him. “This is a big part of the problem, Kurt! You don't listen to me. You don't want to hear what I have to say, but I just- I need to explain. Please just for once listen to me!” Kurt couldn’t leave now. Not again. 

And for the first time, Kurt was quiet. His eyes were spitting fire, but he was listening. He was finally listening.

Without taking so much as a breath, Blaine continued. He had held these feelings inside for so long, now that he had started, he couldn’t stop the words from pouring out. “Every time I try to talk to you, you shut yourself off. You ignore me, you change the subject or you get angry. And I am sick of it. If you want to give us another shot, even just as friends, I need to be able to share my part of the story as well. You don’t think I hate myself for what I did? I cried myself to sleep about it for weeks, Kurt. I am not trying to play the victim here, but do you even know why I cheated on you? Do you think I did it because I was horny and because you weren't around I just asked the first person that wanted to fuck me if I could come over? You really think that?” At this Kurt’s expression changed slightly. He still looked furious, but Blaine could see something else behind his eyes. 

“I felt so alone, Kurt. I was scared. I had convinced myself you didn't love me anymore and I couldn't even tell you any of this because I could never get a hold of you for longer than two minutes. And when you finally did have a second to spare we only ever talked about you, which only strengthened the feeling I had that I just wasn't important to you. I felt completely replaced. You didn't need me anymore.”

Blaine saw that the anger in Kurt’s eyes had subsided a little. He had a pained expression on his face now and had defensively wrapped his arms around his chest.

Blaine took a deep breath. He had thought about what he was going to say next, but he never dared to say it out loud before. “I- I think maybe subconsciously I cheated on you so that that would be the reason you didn’t want to be with me anymore… not because I wasn't good enough or because you had just… fallen out of love with me.” Saying it somehow felt worse than thinking it. “I also desperately wanted to feel like I meant something to someone again.” Tears were now falling down Blaine’s cheeks. He didn’t want to think about what he was about to say next, he knew it would hurt Kurt, but he had to tell him. He just had to. “So when this guy, Eli, added me on Facebook, I thought… I don’t know, I thought maybe I would feel better.” 

Kurt flinched. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away as if to block out what Blaine was saying.

Blaine continued, “Maybe it would numb this ache in me. Maybe this was the only way I could get you to care. Or maybe I just wanted to protect myself against the pain. But whilst I was doing it, it mostly felt like I was punishing myself. For what, I don't really know. I guess for being stupid enough to believe I would be important enough for you to want me around when you moved to New York. I still don’t fully understand why I did it. All I know is I was hurt, and panicking and confused. And then, right after I did it, I knew I had made the biggest mistake of my life. It felt so wrong to be with someone else. I realised that no matter how bad things would've gotten between us, it was worth fighting for and I just threw it all away in a single night. The only thing I wanted was to undo what I did. And knowing that was impossible was the worst thing I've ever experienced.”

Blaine was dizzy. He felt such a deep-rooted all-consuming guilt. He knew it wasn't an excuse. The decision he had made on a whim in a state of panic had ruined the best thing he had. He had not only broken Kurt’s heart, but his own too. Being with someone else, giving his heart and body to a random guy so carelessly had made him feel sick. He felt gross and empty and he couldn’t even blame the guy he did it with because he didn't do anything wrong. He hadn't even known Blaine had a boyfriend. 

“I don’t know what I even expect from you, Kurt. I can’t ask for forgiveness. I understand if you decide you don't want anything to do with me, but just... I needed you to know. To understand maybe? I made the worst mistake of my life and I’ll never be able to undo what I did even though I would in a heartbeat.”

“I’m sorry.” Kurt's voice was so faint Blaine almost thought he had imagined it. 

“You- what?”

“I’m sorry,” Kurt repeated. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way, Blaine. I- I had no idea.” 

Blaine looked into Kurt’s eyes and saw that they were shining with tears. 

“I was so immersed in my new life. I was excited about everything that was going on in New York. I was making new friends and I am sorry I became blinded to how you were feeling. All when I promised you, you weren't gonna lose me. I promised and I failed you.” 

Blaine couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Never in a million years had he expected Kurt to apologise. He didn’t even know he needed to hear it until he did. “Kurt, I-”

“But you still hurt me, Blaine,” Kurt said, but there was no venom in his voice. Not anymore. “You broke my heart and my trust and I don't think I deserved what you did to me-”

“Of course you didn’t!”

“-But, I am glad you told me, and I’m sorry I didn’t listen when you needed me to hear you. I think I needed to hear this to move forward and try to forgive you. And I want to forgive you, Blaine, so bad, but I just… can’t. Not yet.” 

“I know.” It hurt to hear Kurt say that, but he knew he really couldn’t expect anything different. Kurt needed time. He needed to process everything Blaine had told him, but Blaine could wait. Even if he had to wait years for Kurt to fully forgive him, it would be worth it. “Can I…” Blaine hesitated. “Can I please hug you?” he dared to ask, hoping he wasn't pushing his luck. 

And then, before he knew it, Blaine was enveloped in Kurt’s arms. Completely taken aback, it took Blaine a second to register what was happening. He then slowly curled his arms around Kurt’s back and buried his face into Kurt's shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut and tears started falling again, and they kept falling until he was sobbing in Kurt's arms. 

Kurt squeezed him tight. He held Blaine close and rubbed his back as Blaine clung to him as if he needed it to survive. It had been almost three months since he had been able to hold Kurt and he didn't dare to let go, afraid Kurt might disappear if he did. Blaine heard Kurt sniffle next to his ear. He was crying too. 

They stayed like that for a while, just holding each other. The physical connection was like a godsend and the ache in Blaine's chest didn't feel as sharp anymore. Maybe, just maybe, the hole in his heart could finally start to heal. “Thank you,” he murmured into Kurt's shoulder when he had calmed down a bit, and then, “I love you." These last words said so softly they were barely audible as Blaine hardly dared to say them out loud at all.

They pulled apart and Kurt wiped the tears from his face with his hand. He gave Blaine a swift smile. “I love you, too,” he whispered back.

“Are we ever gonna be okay again?”

“I hope so.”

#glee #klaine #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #klaine fanfiction #my fics #4x10

[queenoffishingandcookies]

Battler / Valor’s Name

Considering Battler’s name is meant to be understood as a person who fights, a fighter, I wanted his name as a girl - whether he is transgender or had been outright genderbent - to reflect the same or similar meaning.

Because yes, I’m one of the people who occasionally choose to change a character’s name.

(Feel free to punch me, it’s habit.)

Taken straight from my phone notes, and pieced together from a lot of googling, I ended up with this:

(I’d copy and paste it, but tumblr wont let me, so you get a screenshot, sorry!)

Wish I could tell you I put a lot of thought into this, but I looked at the meaning of Battler (which is, in fact, an actual word) and began thinking of synonyms to a person who fights, or things that mean something similar.

Considering Ushiromiya Family Typical Behavior, in a world where Battler is physically born with female parts, it’s a half-and-half to me on whether she would be named Battler, like in close-to-canon AU’s where she is assumed male because that’s what her physical body says (at least at that time).

I don’t think it would be considered outright to be masculine, since it’s a weird name in the first place, I don’t think people would care? But also. It’s not a lady’s name???

And woman in the Ushiromiya Family have…very specific roles, to say the least, and those born into the family probably have very certain expectations weighing on their shoulders (because Kinzo is an asshole, but I digress-)

I have conflicting feels on it, don’t really know how to explain them, and I’ll…leave it at that.

It was a toss up between Valor or Aster or Asteria. Valor, because pronounced in Japanese it would start with the same ‘Ba’ sound. Valor generally means courage/bravery, especially in battle. Aster/Asteria because that flower, in hanakotoba, means remembrance/memory (and please, correct me if I’m wrong).

Also, I really like the flower.

Once I decided on the name itself, it was…actually just a googling spree on which kanji made the necessary sound. I took the first syllable from the canonical spelling of Battler’s name.

Literally scrolling through lists of kanji for a kanji that had the ‘ro’ sound and appropriate meaning - the jitenon website and wikitionary are where exactly I got them from, so it might not be accurate.

The kanji for yuu means, translated to english, courage. Which is often used to spell the name Yuki, which generally means something similar to Valor. It’s also similar enough to the ru sound, so I decided why not? Almost like an inside joke, though that probably wouldn’t actually work in real life?

Put into Google translate (always the best, well-reputable, never makes an error source), it means:

(Those are alternate readings of the kanji, and let me tell you, that was hell to figure out).

I had so many tabs opened in this process, so much scrolling down. I honestly wish I’d taken note, because it was as interesting as it was frustrating to look at the kanji and how many different meanings they had…

Also, if you’re born into the Ushiromiya family, you kind of have to have some level of bravery or courage, if not cutting cunning or an unfaltering poker face, to survive.

So yeah.

Battler = Valor.

Also, I really like the idea of a transgender Battler coming out, at some point, and choosing her new name after discarding the old, and keeping to the original meaning because - well, her mom gave it to her. The heart of its meaning was…kind of good, she wasn’t a wimp, she knew how to fight and how to fight well. Even if the wacky kanji is from her Ushiromiya side.

(Also considering social expectations of women at the time to be feminine, maybe that would constitute some sort of pressure on trying to select the right name for a young lady? To not be known as aggressive, but strong? To be called a fighter could have different connotations between a girl and boy, and that might be a discussion for another time and way over my head).

Please don’t flame me, if anyone takes offense, please have mercy and tell me if and how I am offensive.

Also, Valor is the only name I’ve looked at in-depth in how it might change for a genderbent or transgender umineko character. Except for maybe George’s.

and let me tell you. Eva, in entirely Genderbent worlds, as a boy. Having a daughter. His only child is a daughter. Wanting to be family heir - and not being heir for a variety of reasons, one of which being to spite the family elders who were still alive when he was born…George’s name would either be Georgia, Georgiana, or…George.

Because Evan wanted a boy, but got a girl, and even if she’s a girl, he’ll make sure she’ll be brought up with as fine an education as a boy and find a wealthy spouse- (it’s…kind of similar to how Jessica in canon has so much pressure on her shoulders from Natsuhi, to be a reputable heiress of the family in her own right even as a girl-).

There’s So Much There to look at, to say the least, and this post will get a lot longer if I wrote it out here.

(I did have an entire sheet of the others names and the kanji that they had but I LOST IT, and now I only have the western names for them set in stone. I’m still upset about that.)

#umineko no naku koro ni #umineko #ushiromiya battler #battler ushiromiya #The Meaning of Battler (Valor’s) Name #Genderbent or transgender #open to interpretation for all #will tag as rule 63 and Genderbent just in case though? #rule 63 #genderbend

[missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway]

You'll Find Me Resting Among The Restless... (Sinners Prayer)

Mafia!Stucky x POC Escort!Reader “Sin”

Wordcount: 5325

Summary:

Not all girls are made of sugar spice and everything nice. Some girls are made of art, lust and misplaced trust. The most loving thing you can do for a man, is to teach him to swallow his own poison.

Warnings:

Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Betrayal, Infidelity, Past Sharon Carter/Steve Rogers, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate universe - Mafia, Texting, Punishment, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Comfort Sex, Tease, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Female Character of Color

Notes:

This story just attacked me and would not let up until I got it out of my system. It's angsty but with a happy/hopeful ending because I'm a sucker for a resolution. Italics are thoughts Photos used do not represent any particular reader features, they are used for reference only. Happy Reading!

Banner by @cafekitsune Divider by @firefly-graphics

They messed up badly this time. Not only had they fallen for you. They didn't realize it until you were gone. Throwing every “gift” back in their faces and moving out of the penthouse they liked to keep you in. You also went back to some of your old clients. One of which was a particular couple that they were very close to, in business and personally. 

All because Steve let his bitch of an ex Sharon get under his skin and in a lapse of judgement and a whole lot of whiskey he not only fucked her but let you find them together on the couch naked and passed out the morning after. He had the nerve to get pissy with you for just showing up at their place. When he was the one that set up the breakfast date the week prior. 

Asshole.

Poor Bucky, he didn't even do anything and yet because he and his boyfriend are a package deal he got left as well. 

You told him you’d never get between them. That you wouldn't hurt either of them by picking one over the other. If things came to that, you’d just leave them both. They weren’t the only ones who went and fell in love. With tears filling your eyes, begging to be set free, you turned towards the Steel Gray eyes full anguish beside you. 

“I can handle a broken heart Buck. It’s not the first time someone thought that because of my profession and being non monogamous that you can't ACTUALLY cheat on me. I’m going to miss you something fierce though.” You step closer for just a moment and caress his cheek. 

“I wish it wasn't this way, but it is what it is. I can forgive a lot of things. Even this if done properly, but for now I just need to not be here anymore. Please know that I don't blame you for any of this. You're just as much a victim of his choices as I am.” You kiss his cheek. 

“I love you. Please don't hurt him too much and take care of yourself okay. If you need me you know where I’ll be.” You pivot on your heels and head out the door, gently closing it behind you. You make it all the way to the penthouse they provided you before you break down in tears as you pack up all of your belongings. You’ve just gotta get out here.

That’s how you ended up here, attending a party hosted by Pepper and Tony Stark, as their plus one. In all honesty you knew Tony only threw this event because he wanted to cheer you up and this is the only way he knew how outside of the bedroom. That was his first approach, which was shutdown quickly by Pepper the moment she saw you on their doorstep, clearly heartbroken.

You weren't here only in a work capacity, although they were paying for your time, they just wanted to protect you and let you heal without the added pressure to ‘perform’. So once again, on paper and according to your bank account at least, you were their Sugar Baby. 

You did terminate the contract with Steve and Bucky the same day the incident occurred, so it was good to know you wouldn't have to dip into your savings just yet. Thank goodness Pepper still kept your old apartment in Stark Tower ready for you just in case. 

The relationship you shared with them was not at all conventional, with or without a contract. Frankly they were the only people you knew who you could always count on and that meant the world to you. You truly did love the Starks. Before Steve and Bucky came along they were your favorite clients. They were the ones to introduce you to the powerful couple, at a party just like this one actually. So technically they were to blame for your current heartbreak.

I wonder if they’ll both show their faces here and if Sharon will be on Steve’s arm? I wonder how Bucky is holding up, if the nightmares have come back? Fuck. I told myself I wasn't going to think about them tonight and here I am almost in tears at the thought of Bucky in pain. I need a drink or five.

It isn’t until you're nursing your third cocktail at the bar, catching up with Wanda that you spot them, the usual entourage of Nat and Sam at their sides, Clint taking up the rear. Ever the intimidating image as always. Other than Tony, who runs Manhattan, they’re the biggest bosses in the room, controlling Brooklyn. Thankfully they brokered a truce years ago and everyone works together peacefully. 

Before you have a chance to escape to a far corner where you can hide away, you make the mistake of glancing over your shoulder and catch the intense blues of Bucky staring straight into your soul. Even tired he looks like a damn Greek god. Tragedy included. 

He breaks the stare off, leaning over to Nat and whispering something in her ear. You watch as she skillfully distracts Steve and moves him towards the center or the party where the Starks are currently holding court. Lost in watching Nat do what she does best, you don't realize Bucky has made his way over to you until it’s too late and you feel the ghost of fingertips trace down your exposed spine in your backless black dress. 

He leans over your shoulder. That sweet baritone you love whispering into your ear. “You look magnificent tonight, Doll. Would you grant a poor mortal the chance to remain in your presence with a dance?”

You lift your glass to your lips, keeping your eyes straight ahead, finishing the remnants of alcohol while you ponder your response. With a steadying breath you respond. “One dance couldn't hurt. But it can't be here, among such prying eyes. I’d rather remain in the shadows tonight.” 

“As you wish.” He proceeds to rest his hand on the small of your back and guide you toward a darkened sitting room off the main hall. You could faintly hear the music over the murmur of voices wafting into the space. 

He pulls you close, wrapping his large arms around your waist as you rest yours around his thick neck. Being in his arms again, after weeks of loneliness, feels like coming home. You place your forehead against the space between his collarbone when he begins to sway to the dull beat. 

“How have you been, Doll? Truthfully. Don’t try to sugarcoat it for my feelings.”

Keeping your face right where it is, to shield you from those steel grays you love so much, you give him your truth. “Surviving. That’s the best way I can describe it. I’ve been licking my wounds and trying to mend this hole I feel in my heart. I keep thinking, I just have to get to tomorrow and the pain will lessen even more. And one day it won’t hurt anymore when I think of them.”

You lift your head to run your eyes over his handsome face. “How about you? How have the Kings of Brooklyn been holding up in their Ivory Tower?”

Looking off into the darkened space, his eyes latching on to a sliver of moonlight coming in through a crack in the curtains. You feel his chest vibrate as he scoffs. “We’re not even sleeping in the same bed right now. I was so upset with him that day that I couldn’t even be bothered to  help him with his hangover. Funny enough, Sharon was kicked out immediately by Steve as soon as you left. Like legit woke her up, threw her clothes at her and screamed at her to get the fuck out. She didn’t leave without spewing a few truths first.”

He just shakes his head, rambling out his thoughts as they come into his mind. “Apparently it was her plan all along to get him drunk and earn her spot back by his side. She’d been talking shit about the both of us and just wanted Steve to herself. She knew just how to get into Steve’s head due to his loyalty to her family. Thought that you’d just latch on to me and I would let him go to keep you. She had no idea that you would drop us both because you couldn't handle breaking us apart.”

You stare at him slack jawed, as he turns to look down at your moonlit face.

“Not gonna lie. I’m drowning without you, Doll. I can’t even look at him after what he did. It was reckless, regardless of his inebriated state. He knows how I feel about her and the things she’s done to him and me in the past.” He shakes his head in disbelief.

“The fucking Golden idiot, due to his loyalty to her Aunt and Uncle, and what he feels he owes them, just keeps letting her back in. I’m done with it. What about the respect I deserve as his partner in business and life? Fuck that, what about the respect and loyalty YOU deserve.” He’s staring straight into your soul again. 

“Your loyalty. Your love. It saved me babygirl. Your light always cuts through the darkness for me. You were the piece we were fucking missing and I cant believe he would even risk that. I’ve tried to let you go. I understand your reasons for leaving us. But I just can't do it. Even seeing the pain he’s trying to hide away, the tough front he’s putting on, isn’t enough to keep me around right now. I miss you baby. I’d give it all up to have you back in my arms for good. All this lavish bullshit isn't worth anything to me without you by my side. I hate that I’m being punished for his fuck up. Again I'm not blaming you for your decision baby. It just hurts and I miss you so fucking much. I can't even sleep at night anymore.”

You can’t resist running your fingers through the hairs on the nape of his neck. “Bucky. I miss you too. So much. I wish it wasn't like this. I never wanted to leave you. You’re right. You never did do anything wrong. You were more than loyal to me. I hate thinking I’m causing you pain because of a stupid decision he made.” Tears begin to well in your eyes. 

He gives your waist a squeeze. “Don’t cry baby. We can figure this out. Where are you staying? I know Tony and Pep took over your contract.”

You sniffle a bit. “They did. But it’s not what you think. Sex is not on the table. Though Tony fought me and Pep on that. He thinks a good dicking is all I need. They just want me to heal in peace. I’m staying here at the Tower in my old apartment.”

He nods his head. “Good. Makes me feel better knowing you're safe.” He grabs your cheeks tenderly. “I wish I could kiss you right now. It’s all I’ve wanted to do these last couple weeks. Just having you in my arms again isn’t enough.”

“Please.” You whisper out.

“Do you mean it, Doll? You're not just telling me what you think I want because you feel guilty for your decision to leave?” He implores.

“I don't regret my decision to leave, Bucky. But I do hate that I had to leave you behind. Like I said that morning. I could forgive almost anything. There’s just not anything you need to apologize for. So why did I let my emotions drag you in with my need for him to be punished? It was stupid of me. If you can forgive me for how I left, I would like to keep you in my life. In whatever way you see fit for that.” You confess.

“Really?” He furrows his brows. Not wanting to get his hopes up.

“Yes. I’ve been miserable without you too.” You smile up at him. 

“You good to get out here or do the Starks still need you tonight? Cus there is nothing I want more than to get you out of this dress and underneath me so I can show just how much I truly missed you.” That devilish smile of his, that means nothing but the good kind of trouble adorns his face as he awaits your answer. 

“I’m not needed here. This whole party was just to get me out of my apartment anyway and for Tony to be Tony and throw his money around. Plus seeing him walk in like nothing happened, act or not, yeah that shit hit deep.” You shrug your shoulders.

“Then let’s head up to your place and make the most of the rest of our night. I’ve got some time to make up for, and I’m all of a sudden ravenous.” The feral look in his eyes has you clenching your thighs together.

Not to be intimidated, you run a hand down his neck until it rests along the waistband of his dress slacks. “Yes, Sir.” 

He lets out a deep growl, pulls you close by the back of your neck and lays the most devastating, soul consuming kiss on your lips. Pouring every emotion into. Conveying without words just how much you mean to him. 

How could I have ever left this man behind?

You’ve barely made it through your apartment door before Bucky has you pinned against it. 

“I don’t know wether to rip this dress off you and fuck you right here against this door or take my time sweet time and worship every inch of your skin like you deserve.”

“Who says you have to only pick one option? We have the whole night ahead of us, don't we Sir?”

“Fucking minx.” He steals another heated kiss and pulls away from your chasing lips, panting. “Where’s your room babygirl. I’ve decided taking you apart piece by piece on your bed is the best place to start.”

You close your eyes for a moment and suppress a moan. “Promises. Promises. Sir.” 

Throwing him a wink, you lick your lips before turning and heading off down the hall. Sashaying your hips and divesting yourself of your dress right outside your bedroom door. 

Now completely nude, you climb onto your bed. Just as you lie back, resting on your elbows with your knees bent and legs spread wide, drooling pussy on full display, Bucky’s large figure graces your doorway. Shirtless, he stalks over to the bed, unbuckling his pants and losing them along with his boxer briefs along the way.  

He reaches the end of your bed. Eyes zeroed in on your glistening little slit. A feral grin slowly spreads across his face and he pounces. Before you know it your back hits the mattress of your king sized bed and Bucky is pushing your legs apart, resting your knees on his broad shoulders and laying kisses on your thighs. 

“This is the only place I wanted to be for weeks. Couldn't stop thinking about all the little noises you make for me when I feast upon this sweet cunt. How you squirm when I hit the right spot with my tongue. Fuck . Just look at you babygirl, so wet for me you're dripping onto the sheets already.” He swipes his tongue up along your folds from entrance to clit, eliciting a moan from you. You’ve always been sensitive but you haven't even touched yourself in the weeks since you left. Too overcome in your grief. So just that little movement is almost too much already. 

Clearly a man on a mission, he begins to devour you, wasting no time thrusting his tongue inside as deep as he can. The thick muscle massaging your silken walls, giving them something to clamp on to. “ Fuck, Bucky. That feels so good.” 

Your hands are anchored in his hair, pulling on his silken strands, just enjoying the ride on his tongue he is giving you. When he swirls his tongue, pulls it out and then moves it to lightly draw infinity symbols on your clit you lose it. 

A kaleidoscope of stars detonates behind your eyes as the orgasm slams into you. Gripping onto his locks tighter as you writhe beneath him, back arching off the mattress before you go boneless.

Coming back to your senses, you blink open your eyes and peer down at Bucky. His chin is glistening wet. A proud smile gracing his handsome face. Adoration shining in his icy blues. “There she is.” He laughs. “Had me worried for a minute there babygirl. Thought I might have made ya pass out. Looks like it was just one hell of an orgasm.” 

A sweet smile adorns your blissed out face as you caress his damp cheeks. “One hell of an orgasm indeed.” 

He begins to crawl up the bed towards you, leaving a path of kisses in his wake. His massive thighs push your legs further apart as he gives his turgid length a couple of slow strokes. He teases the thick head of his member along your folds, coating himself in your essence. 

You lock eyes with him as you whimper. “Please.”

He leans forward, interlocking his hands in yours, placing a toe curling kiss to your lips as he enters the warmth of your cunt. Splitting you open on his generous girth. Pulling his hips back and leaving you no time to adjust as he begins to grind his hips down on yours with every thrust. 

Foreheads pressed together, completely lost in this carnal dance of love and devotion. The room fills with the sounds of your passion. A symphony of moans and groans, accompanied with the sound of slick flesh meeting slick flesh. 

“Nothing has ever felt as good as your pussy squeezing me so tightly when you lose yourself to your pleasure. I need you to come for me baby. Come around my cock. I’m not going to last much longer and I need to feel you let go for me.” He groans out between brutal thrusts. 

It’s like his words have a direct link to your clit and with another well placed swivel of his hips you feel yourself lose control as your orgasm takes over. A rainbow of colors flash behind your eyes and the world sounds as if you're underwater. 

Everything comes back into focus just as Bucky is reaching his own climax. Burying himself deep inside you as he bites down on your shoulder and paints your womb white with rope after rope of his seed. Panting, he leaves a gentle kiss on the mark his teeth left behind. You run your fingers through his dark tresses and kiss his nose.

“Fuck I missed that.” He blurts out as he comes down from his own high.

“Agreed. Although, I must admit. It’s never felt quite as intense before. Feral yes. But that was something else altogether. I want more.” The confession slips from your lips.

“I’d give you the world babygirl. All you have to do is ask.” He places a soft kiss on your lips. “Let’s make some good use of that large walk in shower I can see from here and get dirty while we get clean. A round two is much needed. I haven't had my fill of you yet tonight.”

You giggle as he rolls over, slides off the bed and proceeds to scoop you up in his arms and into the ensuite. “You weren’t kidding about making up for lost time.”

“Darlin’, I’ll never get enough of you.”

You awaken slowly, sunlight slipping in through the blinds and a sweet soreness throughout your body. You open your eyes to the beautiful sight of a sleeping Adonis laid beside you, as peaceful as you’ve ever seen him. You take a moment to just watch his chest rise and fall with each breath until a vibration against the nightstand to his right catches your attention.

You reach across Bucky’s prone frame to grab his phone. It seems that Steve has been sending texts and leaving messages for Bucky throughout the night. Having felt you move, he rouses from his slumber and nuzzles into your neck. “Not that I’m complaining about having you draped over me like a blanket, but what has you moving around so much already? I thought I wore you out last night.” 

Turning the device in your hand towards his slowly waking eyes you respond. “Your phone. Apparently Steve needs your attention.” 

He takes his phone from your hand and goes through all the texts and two voicemails left for him. He responds with a picture of the two of you together in bed.

I'm right where I'm supposed to be Pal. Don’t know when or if I’ll be home though. 

This is how you spend the next week. Lazy days full of fucking, comfort food, dancing, smoking and watching movies. Just enjoying your time together in a little bubble. Bucky taunting Steve with pictures and videos of how you're spending days together. At one point even you get in on the torment, texting him back pics of Bucky cooking shirtless, in the shower, having a smoke or cuddled up on your lap. 

Looks like breakfast is served.

Cleanse the skin of its many sins.

He just can’t seem to quit

He won’t let me move

Bucky is much more of an ass about it though. Sending provocative pics of you and rubbing in how badly he fucked up.

I’ll never get enough of kissing the breath out of her

Best morning view

Gonna have to thank Tony for this secret little room in her apartment. 

Having enough of his moping and random fits of anger targeted at whoever was closest, Natasha decides it’s time to take things into her own hands. With some help from her friends of course. Wanting to help move things along, the Starks call a meeting with Steve to be held at the tower in their personal conference room located in their penthouse. They need to figure out if it's even worth letting you back into his life. 

Surprisingly Tony is more than okay with Bucky cohabitating in sin with you here in the tower. The smile is back on your face and your laughter is filling the halls once more. But Steve has a bigger battle to fight, having betrayed your trust and he wants to make sure that he understands that.

The man of the hour walks in with a calm step and an air of malice in his cerulean eyes. The bags beneath them tell the story of a man suffering for his choices. Tony has been there before. That time when Pepper came to her senses and left him high and dry when he refused to commit to her, unwilling to give up his playboy ways. That’s when he first used your services. He needed someone on his arm for events and he just couldn’t handle bringing a new person each time. It would only aid in making what Pepper said about him true.

It was you who listened to him make drunken confessions of his true feelings for his former lover. That he did want to commit but he was afraid that he wasn't cut out for monogamy. That’s when you told him all about your non monogamous status. “Monogamy is great for those who chose to live that way. But for me, I’m just not content with only one lover in my life. I am polyamorous as well though. But don’t be confused. Not every non-mono person is that way. Some only want to play with others and keep emotions out of it and that’s ok. I for one am happy with multiple play partners as well as multiple full fledged relationships. To each their own ya know.” You gave a little shrug. 

“It seems to me that the only amorous relationship you want is with her. You just want the option to play when an opportunity presents itself. And I’m willing to bet that you want her included in those sessions as well.” You can’t help wiggling your brows. 

“That’s the dream isn’t it. Ya know, I think you two would like each other. Too bad I chased her away. The trouble we could all get in together. Mmmm.” He bites his lip and continues drinking his whiskey. 

“Who says you can't win her back? Give me your phone.” He hands it over, unaware that you were going to change his life for the better. 

Snapping out of his memories and giving attention back to the room full of his friends and fellow gangsters, he locks eyes with Steve. “Hello Steven.” He smirks. “You’re looking well.”

“Cut the crap Tony. What did you drag me here for?” He bites out.

“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa Cap. I brought you here for the benefit of your relationships but now I’m thinking I should have left it alone.” He runs his fingers over his goatee. 

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about that icy little boyfriend of yours and everyone's favorite escort. I’m sure you're more than aware of the love den they have been spending their time in. Licking their wounds and mending their heartbreak together.” 

He quirks a brow. “Tony I don't have time for your bullshit. If you didn't bring me here for business then I’m gonna head out that door. I have better things that I could be doing with my time.”

“Like what? Taking out your anger at your colossal fuck up on your subordinates? Spending some more time between that Carter’s legs?” He declares with disdain.

With the quickness of a man half his size, Steve’s hand is wrapped around Tony’s throat. “You need to learn not to speak of things that don’t concern you.”

Pepper and Natasha rush forward. One afraid for her husband's safety, the other worried about the truce being broken due to her boss's emotional outburst. Men. 

“Alright boys. Enough is enough. Steven, please let go of my husband. We really did bring you here to help you out. He’s just a little overprotective of her. We all are.” Pepper implores in her softest tone.

With Natasha’s help and a nudge from Sam he finally gives in and lets Tony’s neck go. “Thank you.” 

He slumps back in his chair and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I know I fucked up. I let my allegiance to the Carter family blind me and allow my toxic ass ex to manipulate her way back into my life. In the process, regardless of my overly intoxicated state, I betrayed the love of my life, my best friend. As well as the only women who has ever truly understood our dynamic and accepted and loved us unconditionally. And I'm the idiot you didn't realize how madly in love with her I was until I watched her leave us that morning. Us. Not me, who deserved her wrath, but us. She couldn't bring herself to choose between us, even in her pain. I don’t fault Buck for leaving me to my misery to go after her.” 

He scoffs. “They’ve been torturing me daily with pictures of their time spent together. I want that. I want back in their good graces but I have no idea how to fix what I broke or even if I can.”

Pepper places her hand on his shoulder. “Of course you can. I can’t speak for James, but I’ve never known her to not at least have an honest conversation. Start there, she’ll appreciate your honesty. Don’t complicate things. Lay all your cards on the table and let them lay down theirs. It’s that simple.”

“I’m willing to go that route. If I even knew where they were.” He sighs.

“Well, lucky for you Cap that Pep here never got rid of the little vixens apartment. And I have it on good authority that they ordered take out that will need to go through security before making it’s way up to them.” Rubbing his neck Tony says with a smirk.

“I’m gonna need you to intercept that order for me.”

You're cuddled up all cozy in Bucky’s lap, watching Bride Of Chucky, when the doorbell goes off. 

“Must be the food. I’ll grab it, no need to pause. You know I have this memorized.” You lay a quick kiss on his cheek and make your way to the door. 

Grabbing your wallet from the hall table you open the door and let out a gasp. Standing there with your take out in his hand and puppy dog eyes is none other than Steven Grant Rogers.

You have no idea how long you stand there, just staring at him.

“Hey babe, what’s taking so long? Can’t find your wallet again?” Bucky comes up behind and stops in his tracks when his eyes land on Steve. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Bucky.” You admonish.

“No, no, it’s okay. I get it.” He lets out a deep sigh. “I just wanted to talk to both of you. Tony and Pep helped me get up here. Please. I just want to talk. If you don't like what I have to say you can kick me out and I’ll never bother you again. That goes for you too Buck.”

You and Bucky share a look, before you open the door further and step aside. “Come on in, Steve.”

You head back to the living room, and have Steve place the food on the coffee table as you pause the movie and take a seat on the sofa next to Bucky.

Instead of sitting on the loveseat to the left of you, Steve lowers himself to his knees before you. “First and foremost, I’m sorry. I’m not even going to try and make excuses for it. Drunk or not, it shouldn't have happened. And I definitely shouldn’t have yelled at you when I was only angry at myself.”

He reaches for your hands, which you let him take. “You had every right to leave me. I’m an idiot. I love you and I let you slip away.” He turns to Bucky. “I’m sorry I even entertained her baby. I know how she makes you feel. Again, I’m an idiot.” 

“Not gonna argue with you on that one.” Bucky says as he leans back against the couch.

“I can’t promise that I won’t fuck up again in some way. I am stubborn after all. But what I can promise is that I’ll try. I’ll give you both my all and do what is necessary to win your trust back. Just give me a chance. That’s all I’m asking.”

You look at Bucky. “Do you believe him? Do you believe he’s remorseful and truly ready to make amends?”

“Seeing as how I’ve only ever seen him on his knees when he’s servicing me and I placed him there. I’m gonna have to go with yes I think he means it. The decision is up to you though, Doll. From here on out. I go where you go.” He places a kiss on your cheek.

“Thank you for laying this all on my shoulders Buck.” You turn back to Steve and place a hand upon his face. He nuzzles into it. “I’m willing to give you a chance. But just the one. You’re going to have to really work to earn our trust back and we won't take it easy on you. You’re going to need to woo us all over again.” 

“Challenge accepted.” He quickly agrees.

“How about a kiss to seal the deal?” You suggest.

He leans in. “With pleasure, Doll.” He wraps his hand in your hair and proceeds to get you drunk off his love.

#poc reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #mafia au #avengers au #stucky x reader #stucky smut

[kaylas-world-0]

Untold Stories

Masterlist

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃: Yes || No

Pairings: Tails x Reader

They/them // She/her // He/him // Other

Summery; We are stuck between zombots. A ceratin fox coming to our rescue.

Warnings: angst, blood, tearing of skin, claws, broken bones...

Word Count: 1500

A/N: This fic insparied from here. All rights to the creator! A Sonic IDW non-canon moment (alternative kind of end).

Btw does anyone want to be in the tag list?

Have Fun!

You glance around in fair breath intermittently. You yelp feeling claws on your back. Quickly stumbling away you look around. You are trapped, surrounded by zombots.

At least your friends are safe on the Angel Island. As alright as they can be in this epidemic world, you pondered. But you knew better then doubting your friends. They will find a way to turn everything back to normal. You know it.

You smiled, closing your eyes. You sniffed a tear slipping down to your chin. You will turn into one of them soon... It's nearly covering half of your body now but you will still keep fighting till the very end just like Sonic and your friends.

You opened your eyes, don't forget you are doing this for for them, for everyone.

You jumped away from a zombot's attack and landed on one's face. You leaped as far as your body let you, you were so close to reaching a rooftop but your fingers only slipped inchest away from your sweet escape. Looking down where you gonna land, you feared only for a second, that's it, this will be your end. Zombots swarmed everywhere, this time there is no way out for you to flee.

Your lips curved with the bitter truth. Wow, so this is how it gonna be? You always wanted it to end while saving someone. At least for once, doing something right, like your friends. Dying like a hero. A person people would look up to and not easily forget about but... you only gonna get lost between these mindless beings. No way to be noticed, distinguish, known...

You closed your eyes as you falled, friends, I have faith in all of you, sorry for the dissapointment--

You yelped, your eyes quickly opening, your feet halting just inches away from a clawing zombot. Your breath hitched, no, tears wells up in your eyes. No...

Your eyes widen in terror, a force pulling you up and away from the field of zombots. Your body stiff in his hold. No...

You shakily looked up, in that moment, you wished he would have failed to catch you.

Tears slipped out of your eyes. You couldn't even open your mouth to form words, or cry or yell at all. You only stare at his determined face. No...

Why did he come back? Why him of all people?

You two crash landed on a place you can call safe for now. No zombots in sight... for now at least.

You grunt sitting up on your shaking limbs.

He turned to you with a smile, "Haha, Sorry for the nasty landing, are you okay?"

You stare at your metalic hands, your back facing him. Your cold, harsh and dreadfull body...

"Y/n--?"

"I am fine..." You swallowed harshly holding yourself back from turning to him, your voice nearly breaking, "Thanks to you..."

You cleanched your hands, brows knitting, "You always had a good catch... but the cure is no more..." You shakily whispered back.

"It is." He confirmed as he calmly gazed at your form.

"Then..." You turned to him, swallowing your sobs as your tears flow down from your face, his ears sulked with your upset face, "...Then it must be one of those brilliant plans of yours, right? Right?! Because you caught me..." You breathed out trying to seem hopeful behind all that tears as your voice broke down, showing that you don't believe what you said.

He chuckles meekly and glanced down, his lips continuing to hold that bittersweet smile.

You call out to him softly, prying whoever is listening to you up there to at least get something in his brilliant mind.

He gazes at you melancholically, shrugging.

He gets up to his feet, his eyes never cease to leave your own, "Sometimes you just gotta roll with it. Sonic teached us that, didn't he?"

You get up to your feet as he continued, "I get to act impulsively sometimes too." He smiled at you with open arms.

"No..." You whispered as you approuched him. With sudden emotions you hold onto his arms jogging him with such force he was nearly loosing his balance, "No! Tails! NO, not YOU!! This isn't something you should get from him!! You just can't throw your life away for something like this!!! Why?!! Why did you do this!?! You could- You could help, save or- or do whatever everyone couldn't! You could figure out something... to help..." You wailed and sobbed.

He grabbed your hands to support your weak form from falling, "We promised remember? We are never going to—"

"Idiot!! You are not getting it!! It's not me that matters! I do not matter compared to the WORLD!!!" Your voiced echoed.

There was a pause, only your little sobs were heard for a minute.

"Maybe... but you do matter to me."

You paused, an aching pain inside your heart, you lift your head, you weren't ready to face his soft eyes. It only made you to tear uo even nore to the point you can no longer see but a blur. You sniffed and coughed on your words. You couldn't hold back the tears anymore. Your shoulders shake with your loud sobs. You felt a warm hand on your cheeck wiping away the tears flowing down.

He holds your face in his hands, "It's okay... You know... I couldn't bear the thought of leaving you here all alone... in your last moments. I have faith in all our friends. They are going to achieve the good end. I trust Sonic. You should too." He paused and sucked a deep breath, you blinked your tears away to see his warm smile, "But even if this is going to be our last moments.... I wanted to spend it all with you."

Your eyes widen, your breath caught in your throat. With that glint in his eyes, you knew he was serious. It touched something deep inside your heart that you never even knew that existed. You dropped your head, hiding your face under your hair, "I know they will fix everything... I just... I am worried about you." Your fingers just hovered over his back, still fearing to touch him, bodies so close you can feel his warmth that eases your pain... only a bit.

He huged your form tightly, your eyes widen, only that moment you noticed how much you were craving for physical contact. You sucked a deep breath and tightly hugged him back, burying your face in his warm chest. Shivering with the cold metal patches slowly surrounding his body. You closed your eyes tightly. This was your fault that he is going down with you... If you were able to be faster and didn't let that zombot touch you--

You freezed when you felt his grip tighten.

"Stop thinking, Y/n... This was my choice and... I want you to respect it. I don't want our last moments to be all sad at all..."

You paused then relaxed your stiff body, relieving with a sigh.

"Can you... promise me everything will be... okay... for real?" You whispered, your voice muffled on his chest.

"I promise in the end, everything will be fine." He caresses your head.

You sniffed, tightly hugging him back, wanting to pull him in all you could and end the pain for both of you. You sighed relived.

He caresses your back lovingly, his smile slowly melting away, "Hey... I...uh... hate to do this to you but.... I need to ask for a favor." He was more serious now... no... not serious... it doesn't define his mood correctly. He was already serious... but right now he was more... grave, "I will be a zombot soon..." He whispered.

You nodded instead of voicing your thoughts, you wouldn't be able to get them out anyway, without your voice breaking at least. You don't want his last memories to be you wailing your eyes over him, heartbroken about all this. You want this to be something peaceful for him. Like he said...

His arms tighten around you, tears slipping on to your head, "I never would forgive myself if my zombot form flew to Angel Island and put the mission in danger, I can't risk infecting the others. And we know that zombots are fixed right away by any damage made on them, so it must be done before I... completely turn into one of them..."

Your eyes widen, no, he can't be implaying for you to do that... would he? He don't actually want you to do this to him. You shakily glanced at his warm smile. Your hands are shaking with dread.

"I know it's a lot to ask but... I can trust only you with this..." His voice come like a whisper to your ear as he laid his head back on top of yours.

You swallowed shakily.

"And not just because you are already infected but..."

You slowly slide your hand down on his back, soothingly reaching his cold tails, gently caressing them. You could feel him slightly flinch with the touch but quickly relax afterwas.

"...Unlike everyone else back then, you would never hurt me. So, it's okay." Your tears slipped from your eyes like a waterfall.

"It's going to be okay." He whispered shakily, promising to both of you.

CRACK

You sobbed while he wailed and screamed in pain, he gripped your form in his hold for support, painfull tears slipping from his eyes, as he sobbed and hissed in pain.

"I am sorry. I'm so sorry." You repeated the same words over and over again.

It hurts, it hurts so much. You wanted to scream, cry your heart out. But the only thing you could do was wait for your time to come along with him.

And well... it didn't take long for the metal substance to cover your whole bodies and lose your consciousness.

#sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #tails the fox #sonic characters #sonic and tails #allenwrites #sonic prime #sonic idw #tails x reader #miles tails prower x reader #sonic x reader #sonic the hedgehog x reader

[quicksilverdrabbles]

Shattered (2)

Inigo: Morana?

Morana: *laying in bed with her back facing the door, cane abandoned on the floor*

Styx: *raises her head, growling at the intruder before recognizing Inigo. Lowers her head and snuggles closer to Morana with a whine*

Inigo: *picks up the cane and sets it against the wall* How are you doing, my friend?

Morana: ...

Inigo: Are you okay enough to talk about it? I can go get your notebook if you want.

Morana: *shakes her head, hugging Styx closer to her*

Inigo: No talking? Or no notebook?

Morana: ... No notebook.

Inigo: Okay. *sits at the edge of her bed*

Morana: ...

Inigo: ...

Morana: *sniffles, hiding her face in the pillow* I didn't want to yell at Tally..

Inigo: I know you didn't.

Morana: I just feel like he doesn't- *hic* He doesn't see me as an equal. He always does things for me that are nice, but sometimes it feels like he doesn't l-let me do anything without him..

Ingio: If anything, I would say Taliesin holds you in higher regards than an equal.

Morana: It doesn't feel like it. I'm scared he sees me as a burden.

Inigo: I understand that. You know he doesn't, though..

Morana: *sighs, turning on her back and staring at the ceiling* Why couldn't I just have a regular life..? No plague, no torture, no scars..

Inigo: You did break the mirror for your scars, then?

Morana: ... I was in a worse place when I came to Skyrim. Mentally, I mean. I was angry, and bitter that my life would never be like anyone else. When I found this outpost, and recognized his notes.. Next thing I knew, everything in the lab had been destroyed. Like it was in Morrowind.

Inigo: You were angry. Anyone could understand that.

Morana: I couldn't stay here, but it felt like the only place I could.. come back to. It wasn't a home by any means, but I wanted it to at least be liveable. The only thing I couldn't bring myself to replace was that damn mirror... *she laughs, wiping at her eyes nervously* I guess I lied when I said this place isn't traumatic for me. I just thought I could handle it for the sake of everyone else. I owe them that much.

Inigo: You don't owe us anything, Morana. If you were not comfortable coming here, we did not have to.

Morana: ... I just didn't want this place to be another weakness for me.

Inigo: *sighs, scooting closer to her and leaning against her comfortingly* The haunts of our past do not make us weak, my friend. It is living through it that makes us stronger. And I think it is easy to guess that you have been through much more than any of us can even imagine.

Morana: Maybe. *leans against Inigo* ... I wish I didn't have to die to be freed from this.

Inigo: ... Me too. We will find a cure for you, Morana. I promise.

~

Kaidan: *pacing around the living room, his gaze flitting to the bedroom every few seconds*

Lucien: In all fairness, Kaidan, I don't think wearing yourself out is going to help anything.

Kaidan: I'm not in the mood for it, Lucien.

Lucien: Alright, fine. *raises his hands in surrender and goes back to tinkering with some Dwemer artifacts*

Kaidan: ... *turns and walks towards the bedroom, reaching for the doorknob*

Xelzaz: *without looking up from his book* No.

Kaidan: Ugh. Why not?

Xelzaz: Morana may be too distressed to deal with many more people than Inigo right now.

Kaidan: Why wouldn't she want to see me?

Xelzaz: She's overwhelmed, and upset. On a daily basis, she is surrounded by people. In emotional moments like this, I'm sure you've noticed she prefers to be alone.

Kaidan: ...

Xelzaz: If I may recommend an alternative endeavor right now, go and knock some sense into Taliesin.

Kaidan: Taliesin? He's about the last person I want to see right now.

Xelzaz: Nothing will be solved between those two if they don't work it out. While Morana by now likely feels guilty about yelling at Taliesin, she's just going to assume he hates her, so he needs to make the first step. He never apologized for snooping, anyway.

Kaidan: .. God damn, he never did, did he? *turns and leaves the room, taking the stairs two at a time to follow Taliesin outside*

Lucien: You are very good at conflict resolution.

Xelzaz: I'd hardly call that conflict resolution. I'm actually counting on Talieisn having a black eye when he comes back, so I don't have to do it myself.

Lucien: Ha, I feel the same.

~

Morana: *walks out of her bedroom, leaning on her cane*

Xelzaz: Ah, welcome back. How are you feeling, Morana?

Morana: ... Fine..

Inigo: We talked. She wishes to speak with Taliesin now.

Kaidan: Ah, so I dragged his arse back at the right time, then. *literally dragging Taliesin by the back of his robes back down the stairs*

Taliesin: *face bruised and hair and clothes tousled* Let me go, you barbarian!!

Kaidan: Apologize. *shoves him towards Morana*

Morana: ?! Kai, you can't just beat him up-

Kaidan: He was an asshole to ye, I can do whatever the hell I want with him.

Taliesin: Kinky- Ow, watch the hair!

Morana: *steps back, shrinking in on herself as she watches Taliesin struggle* I-I don't need to speak with you now, if you don't want to.. Um, goodbye- *turns and tries to escape back into her room*

Taliesin: Wait! Morana, let me speak, please?

Morana: ...

Taliesin: I- Look, you were right. I stuck my nose in your business when I shouldn't have- And honestly, I was being a bit of a mother hen, ha.

Kaidan: a 'bit'?

Taliesin: Silence from the peanut gallery, please.

Inigo: Better idea. *grabs Kaidan by the back of his armor and drags him into the laboratory*

Kaidan: Oi!

Lucien: Break something if you need us, Morana.

Inigo: Please don't.

Xelzaz: We'll be waiting deeper inside.

Morana: *nods, sitting back down at her spot on the couch*

Taliesin: *sighs, reaching up to try and fix his hair nervously* Uh, well..

Morana: *noticeably unnerved by Taliesin's hesitance, pulls her knees to her chest*

Taliesin: ... I'm sorry.

Morana: ...?

Taliesin: You were right. From the moment I met you, I've.. felt this need to protect you. And I can understand how you felt suffocated by that. To me you were this absurdly weak Dunmer that could barely brandish anything larger than a dagger, and who was stolen away from the innate magic of her people. With no voice, and no way of standing up for herself in Skyrim.

Morana: *deadpans* I'm always glad for your honesty, Taliesin.

Taliesin: *sputters* Well you- I- Will you just wait a moment- I-I'm not done!

Morana: Go on, then.

Taliesin: And then you became someone dear to me! Someone I saw less as a person I owed my life, and more as a woman I would gladly give my life for in an instant! And yes, that still comes from a desire to protect you. I would be lying if I told you I would ever stop worrying.

Morana: ...

Taliesin: But I can promise to do better. No more smothering, or underestimating, or suffocating. I'll- *shudders* I'll learn from the likes of Kaidan, and ask if you need my help next time.

Morana: ... *pats the seat next to her*

Taliesin: *sighs, sits down* You are.. one of the strongest people I've met in my life. I see that now. Your will to survive, even with the cards you've been dealt.. it is the most fascinating and beautiful thing I have ever seen. I only wanted to make things easier for you. I'm sorry.

Morana: ... *leans against Taliein's shoulder gently* Thank you, Tally. I'm sorry I yelled at you. And accused you of not trusting me.

Taliesin: You've no need to be sorry, my dear raven.

Morana: ... *turns away to cough*

Taliesin: Good gods you've used your voice far too much for one night. I- Do you want me to get you anything?

Morana: ... Could you call Lucien back in to make some tea, please? I like his the best.

Taliesin: Consider it done, dear.

#brb crying #skyrim #tes #the elder scrolls #modded skyrim #dragonborn #ldb oc #kaidan skyrim #lucien flavius #inigo skyrim #skyrim taliesin #xelzaz skyrim #Morana oc

[fanfic-enthusiast]

Lifeblood (Cotl NariLamb Fic)

Night was starting to fall over the communes lands and the sun dipped below the treeline casting long shadows over the idols and statues that dotted the cult. 

Stars started to appear slowly one by one in the sky above when Narinder noticed the familiar chill down his spine that meant his lover was near. 

He’s gotten good at knowing when their eyes laid on his weakened form. Their deep red stare permitting his fur and sending shivers through him was one of the ways he knew their attention was on him. 

So he turned behind him to meet their gaze, they stood across the field of camellias he had been watering, with a hunger in their eyes. 

‘Ah so it was time already then.’

Lamb nodded, as if they had heard the thought cross his mind, which in all fairness they probably did. 

Narinder turned his gaze skyward to the stars, it was still quite early in the night. So the two of them would have time before morning when Lamb would inevitably have to be up and doing their daily duties. So he placed down his watering can between the blooms and made his way over to the red eyed lamb, watching his every step like a predator watching pray. 

Unsurprising to Narinder, the barer of the red crown needed to feed after all. 

The crowns require energy for their barers to keep them energized and strong, 

Leshy the chaotic spastic energies of his most excitable followers kept him lively and swift. Heket the hunger and persistence from her own followers. Kallamar the constitution and quite possibly paranoia, Narinder was never sure, of his healthiest devotees and Shamura, the essence of war and bloodlust fueling their cruelty and kindness in turn. 

Narinder required life energy, the fuel keeping the fire of souls alight before they fell to him, and with the dawning of a new death god that same need fell to Lamb. 

The prospect of such a need terrified the sheep when it became known to them. They held their stomach tight and whined, not understanding the hunger that now plagued them. With their godhood, food was no longer a requirement, why did that suddenly seem to change. 

Narinder knew that hunger from his time spend in limbo, and granted them the mercy of an explanation. Which only alarmed them more. 

Lamb didn’t want to shorten the lives of his followers in such a way, to do so would be cruel! Surely there had to be another way! 

“I suppose you could try to limit it to one follower, syphon from them and spare the others. But that follower would surely age to death in days if you did that.”

“...age to death you say?”

“Yes damned Lamb, age.” They had a look in their eye that made Narinder’s palms sweat. 

Then he remembered he didn’t age like the other followers around him. Lamb didn’t pounce on Narinder right away of course, despite their desperation they took the time to sit down and ask Narinder straight if he would do this for them. Allow them to sate this ache without hurting anyone they cared about. The alternative would be to feed on the heretics in the woods, where they wouldn't be subject to as much guilt. 

Narinder felt he caved too quickly to such a request, but the choice was made either way. And so whenever the urge arose Lamb would pull Narinder to a privet tent they had built for themselves, and to take what they needed from the feline. 

Which was given freely whenever they wished it.

The repeated feedings over the months since their agreement had begun to effect Narinder a little in ways he hadn’t expected. He assumed it was a side effect of Lamb’s strange means of obtaining the life force they needed. 

Sliding sharp teeth into his neck, feeling the blood trickle out of the injury while Lamb’s tongue sliding over the open wound. 

It made his knees weak and his thoughts sluggish. Often leaving him in a daze for most of next day. Lamb would take care of him and make sure he ate while resting and recovering. 

~

Which lead him to the situation he was in now, in their lap as they mouthed over the collection of small scars littering the area between his neck and shoulder. Where just under his skin the pulse his heart thrummed with anticipation of what was to come. 

Lamb chuckled a little, prompting a glare. He didn’t need their amusement like this, not when he was in their lap baring his neck to them, robe long abandoned on the floor along with Lamb’s fleece. 

“Just get on with it already.” “Come now Narinder, I can tell you're eager but no need to be so impatient. Have you forgotten how to wait.” “No I just- You need this more then I do! Quit depriving yourself to tease me.” 

A dark chuckle emanated from the Lamb under him, he felt their fingers squeeze around his thighs pulling him closer against their wooly chest and looking up at him with those... wine red eyes. 

“Oh Nari~ I’m so tempted to drain you right here and now...” They trail off and mouth his neck again trailing kisses over his shoulder, he couldn't help his breath catching in his throat as Lamb kissed him. “To gorge myself on this ruby red delicacy inside you.” 

Lamb’s breath against his fur was hot and heavy while their hands trailed up and down his thighs massaging small circles inside them that made the blood rush to his face. 

“But... I can’t lose my good boy. Couldn’t bare it.” 

Narinder breath came out jittery as Lamb moved back against his throat. He gulped and looked down at them. Their words echoing in his head. 

“Whats wrong Nari? Cat got your tongue.” They chuckled and finally after forever, he felt their sharp teeth against his neck again. Any response Narinder had on his tongue quickly became lost to the wind. 

Slowly those white fangs pierced through his skin. He sucked in air through his teeth and his hands tangled in the wool of their chest. They retracted from his throat and in their place their tongue lapped at his wound. 

Their lips locked around his throat and suckled gently at the wound, Narinder felt himself sigh and lean against Lamb harder as they did so. The dull pain in his neck from their actions slipping from his mind and replacing with a light as air feeling in his head. 

He kneaded the soft white wool under his paws as Lamb ravaged his neck. They savored every mouthful of his divine blood that entered their mouth. It coated their tongue in a sweet bitterness that suited the feline so well. It was hard for Lamb to stop once they tasted this flavor. 

It was even harder to stop once they realized when they did this, Narinder was putty in their hands. He'd willingly let them suck every last drop from his body if they didn't stop themselves. Which... made the option all the more tempting, especially with the revival ritual carefully tucked away in their notebook. 

Still... they didn't want to harm their good kitty. 

Narinder’s lightheadedness gave way to weakness in his limbs as his kneading slowed to a simple resting of his hands against their wool. It was soft like a cloud... so were their hips and stomach, so were their lips. Still locked at his neck while his vitality leaked from him. 

Thoughts ran slow like honey and he wagged his tail behind him, ears laying back as he purred in Lamb’s soft and sharp embrace. A good boy eager to help... Lamb hummed against his throat. 

The vision in his three eyes started to get dark around the edges, shadows creeping in as his head lolled against Lamb’s, numbed arms falling from their chest to their lap. 

At this Lamb finally pulled back from Narinder’s neck. Ignoring the soft whine from the cat in question as they did so. A small trail of blood dripping from the wound on his neck. Which Lamb was quick to dive back in and lap up, not wanting to waste a drop of this precious treat. More delicious then anything else they've tasted... 

They could surely have just one more sip...

The moan under them changed their mind quickly as Narinder slumped against them. The magic of the crown quickly let Lamb retrieve the bandages from across the room and wrap them around Narinder’s neck with practiced ease. 

“Shhhh darling. You did wonderfully...” “Mmmm really?”

“Yes of course, such a good boy.”

Narinder smiled slowly, eyes still closed as his tail swayed behind him. Lamb held a cup of water to his lips which he sipped from without complaint or hesitation. 

After that Lamb laid him down gently on the bed. By this point light was already starting to come through the crack in their door. Morning already... my how time flies. 

The drained cat curled up under the covers, spent before the dawn even broke as their rejuvenated partner stood from the bed. Giving their unconscious love a small kiss on the forehead and promising to return later with a hearty meal for him. 

They smiled fondly as Narinder purred at their words. Leaving to start the day with a jump in their step and new life in their veins. 

#happy halloween y'all #halloween fic #narinder #cotl narinder #narilamb #cult of the lamb #cotl #cotl lamb #COTL The Lamb #the lamb #lambert #true devotion #tw: blood #tw: bloodsucking

[mercurygray]

A very small (and very late) amuse-bouche for @junojelli, who had a birthday recently and deserves all the nice things for it, including her favorite characters in compromising positions and alternate timelines!

Scene: 1777, Philadelphia, in the house of Mr. William Mitchell, a merchant of that city and a loyal subject of his Majesty King George.

She'd never intended to be caught.

It was all well and good that during a war a man could put on a coat and carry a gun, but what did that leave the women to do? Especially women who were trapped in their fathers' houses, hoping for the other side to win?

William Mitchell would say it was willful of her, a daughter of his wishing for the rebels to win, but what did he know about it? Freedom was a fine word when you already had it. And Billie so wanted freedom - to be free of this house, of her mother and her silly and specific social obligations. It was a prison to her - until it became a lodging place for King George's officers. And then one night, after dinner when they were deep in their port, and discussing troop movements, and she thought of what Molly had said, about how wars require intelligence to be run, and intelligencers to gather it.

She nearly flew to writing the letter, pressing it into Molly's hands the next time they met. She knew Miss Warren - her uncle was with Washington. Could they not arrange something between them? A woman's letters, filled with gossip to an old school-friend, would not be read.

Miss Warren wrote back - would be delighted to cultivate an acquaintance, desperate for news from a friend, should introduce her to another, whose name she now enclosed. And that began it - codes and counter-codes, plans and plots and listening at doors - until tonight, that is.

"Now, Miss Mitchell, what have we here? What would your father say?"

Billie straightened up quickly and smoothed her dress. He was new here, this one - dark hair and deep eyes she could not fathom out. Family in Scotland, it was said, though he hardly sounded it. Not that he'd say why - he didn't talk in the same free and easy way the rest of the officers did, kept himself to himself. The girls who came to take tea with her mother found him handsome - but then, that seemed to be the condition they found everyone wearing an epaulette. "Say to what, Captain Speirs?"

"You, listening at doors." He drew in a little closer. "Is he aware that his daughter is a rebel spy?"

Her breath caught. "I've done nothing of the kind."

"You're going to tell me you were peeping at keyholes to - what, admire the cut of Major Andre's legs?"

"Why shouldn't I? Every other girl in Philadelphia seems to be."

"You're not every other girl in Philadelphia."

Was it a compliment or an accusation? She couldn't tell and didn't wish to. "Are you trying to flirt with me, Captain?" she shot back, changing tactics. "I could scream. What would my father say to that? Me, alone with an officer who's billeted in my house?"

"Would you like that?" He stepped closer to her, pinning her between his body and the wall. "Would you like us to be flirting?"

"Don't think I won't," she threatened again. But there was something in the way he watched her that made her wish, just for a moment, that what she suggested need not be suggestion only, a tendresse rather than a threat.

"I have every confidence you would," he assured her. "But it won't help either of us. Or our mutual friend John Bolton."

Billie's eyes widened. No one in this house - in this city, even! - knew that name, spoken only once in Joan Warren's letter, the alias for Washington's intelligencer. Even Andre, for all his powers, would not possess it. No, no one would know it except -

Speirs' smile widened. "Now she understands. We'll need a cover of some kind, if we're to continue meeting like this."

"Weren't you just saying something about flirting?" She gestured with her eyes to the space between them, his body pressed to hers. "Unless you find that objectionable," she hastened to add, trying to catch him out the way he'd caught her.

But he, it seemed, would not be caught. He smiled, and she thought of hungry wolves, the licking of his lips heavily implied. "The least objectionable thing in the world." She must have made a face, for he smiled even wider. "Cheer up, Miss Mitchell," he added softly. "This could serve a second purpose." He leaned in, his lips almost brushing her ear. "I think your mother likes my prospects."

She wasn't sure which prospect she disliked more - that her mother found him suitable for marriage, or that he did not seem to disagree.

#i have written a thing #mercurygraypresents #billie mitchell #1780s girl gang #revolutionary war au

[spookiifi]

Tumblr is being stubborn with me, so I have a screenshot of @the-rocket-scientist​ ‘s ask. This can also be accessed on ao3 here! 

Hiiiii!!! I had a lot of fun writing this <3

Hi kids! Do you like violence? Because this story is filled with it <3

I haven’t taken a single anatomy class when I was in high school/college so I apologize for any inaccuracies. This fic gets a bit bloody. For those that are squeamish I’d recommend reading something else.

You were the only human that had the guts to deal with Lucifer’s work. But he never turned, nor experimented on you. He never gave an explanation why.

You considered yourself a secretary of sorts, despite not having a front desk. You and the rest of the alternates’ work was highly confidential. A literal stack of papers had to be signed before you actually became his assistant. It felt like you were selling your soul to the company.

“Refusal to sign these forms or rejection will result in fatal consequences. Do you wish to proceed?”

Lucifer was so forward sometimes. Cold, yet organized in his work.

“…Yes?”

So why were you falling for this bastard of a scientist?

Your objective tonight was accompanying him during an autopsy. One of the human’s hearts filled with black blood mid transformation, sealing off the airways. This was both new and interesting to the rest of the lab. It would be studied greatly and a huge opportunity for larger discoveries.

“Bonesaw.” Lucifer held out his gloved hand, his eyes focused on the open corpse in front of him.

Clean instruments made for surgery were aligned on a tray between the two of you. Some looked as if they arrived straight from an operating room, while the rest mimicked torture devices from horror movies.

You didn’t hesitate on giving Lucifer the bonesaw. In the past, you watched him curl his hands around a ribcage and tear it open. The aftermath that day was…brutal to watch. Those plain white walls were splattered with blood. At least you weren’t the one chosen to clean it up.

Thank…someone for goggles and protective gear. OSHA?

“Tell me, what do you notice about this human’s lungs?” Lucifer turned towards you after successfully slicing through the ribs. You couldn’t tell how he was feeling through the protective mask covering his face.

The morgue was cramped with shelves, and there was little space to stand. The room was only meant for two or three people at a time.

Failed body parts were preserved in unknown substances, while a skeleton hung on display in the corner. You hoped it was made of plaster, but that intelligent mind of yours told you it was real.

The smell was the worst, taking a full week to get used to. You knew behind those freezer doors; other bodies lay motionless inside with tags on their ankles. In all honesty, they were the lucky ones.

Lucifer’s entire being was distracting if you were straight up truthful.

You wondered if he knew about your feelings towards him.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“The corpse, my dear assistant. What’s different?” Lucifer knew the answer, but he wanted you to figure it out. “We should practice on concentration next time.”

How in the hell were you supposed to focus when this fine of a mad doctor was staring you down?

You paused for a moment. “The lungs are dry, and the heart bleeds black instead of blue.”

He seemed satisfied. “Very good. Now hand me that seraded knife.”

Now was your chance. “So…I’ve been thinking. We’ve been working overtime the past week.” You said as you inspected his tools.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow at you as he carefully cut around the ventricles. “Yes? And?”

“Maybe we could spend one night off? Six and the rest of the alternates have this place on lockdown. We don’t even have to leave.” You shrugged as he placed the organ in a biohazard proof bag.

Lucifer stopped. “We spend time with each other every day. You are my assistant after all.”

You grit your teeth, trying to hold back the frustration in your voice. “I mean the other kind of time.”

He seemed to be catching on. “…I’m busy. Now, hand me the syringe. We need to dispose of-“

Fuck it.

“Busy with what?! Every other failed experiment that sits in this damn facility?!”

Lucifer dropped the threaded needle on the tray. He tore off the mask with one hand. “Our current subject is missing! Do you care at all about your career?! Did you even READ the forms you signed?!”

“Lucifer I didn’t mean-“

His face heated up. “We’re so close to reaching a perfect alternate! And you want to quit now?!”

Your eyes widened. Lucifer never yelled at you. Tear droplets formed in the corners of your eyes, and he realized his mistake.

“Oh, no…no please.”

You choked down a sob and turned away, not wanting him to see you like this. “Forget I asked. It’s nothing.” Quickly, you removed your gear and made a beeline for the door.

“Wait!”

“Goodnight, Lucifer. Until tomorrow.” You didn’t look back as you swiped your key card.

After a much-needed shower, you changed into comfy clothes and spent the rest of your night in your room. It was paid for by the Mandela Facility, resembling a college dorm so you were closer to work.

You missed your chance alright…It was a stupid idea in the first place. A bad decis-

Someone knocking at your door distracted you from your thoughts. The first sounded heavy, then grew softer.

“If Lucifer sent you, I’d rather-“

Until you heard a voice call your name.

“Please talk to me.”

You opened your door to find your boss standing in the hall. He wore the same outfit from earlier, besides any medical gear.

“Did I wake you?” Lucifer said, shifting awkwardly when you glared at him. “…Don’t answer that.”

You sighed. “Come in, and close the door behind you.” An uncomfortable silence filled the room as he followed you inside.

Getting comfy on your couch, he sat across from you. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I mean it! And maybe you’re right. We have been working overtime. I’m just…stressed.”

Your eyes narrowed. Was he showing weakness towards you? “Maybe, or I am right? Those are two huge differences, Lucifer.”

He sighed. “Yes, you are. Without the asset, we could lose so much- I mean-” He stopped when you glared daggers at him. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I didn’t know I meant so much to you.”

You nearly dropped your drink at that last part. “Say that again.”

“I didn’t know I meant so much to you?”

This made you grin. “I forgive you, on one occasion.” This seemed to intrigue him. “We get to leave early tomorrow.”

Lucifer chuckled. “Fine, my little assistant. Do you prefer red or white wine?”

#gabriel x reader #alt gabriel x reader #tmc au #the-rocket-scientist #my fics

[nectar-cellar]

Does Mortimer know about Vlad? If so , what does he plan to do about it?

i am delighted to receive your inquiry anon...

allow me to tell you about the alternate universe that exists only in my mind...

bella disappeared (ALIENS?), came back with no memory of her past, and then took a long journey from strangetown to pleasantview to bridgeport where mortimer now lives and works, and where cassandra attends college. on bella's road trip to bridgeport, she drove thru moonlight falls where she met vlad and told him about her odd predicament.

so vlad vaguely knows about her piece of shit husband but bella didn't tell mortimer about vlad. pardon my language 💋

if mortimer knew about vlad, he would feel angry, possessive, and vengeful. he would probably try hard to prevent bella from leaving him, not because he loves her, but for his own ego. he'd be more upset at bella than vlad.

as a general rule, vlad prefers to stay out of human affairs that don't concern him. but if bella really wanted it, vlad could surely find a way to give ole morty a big scare, for funsies.

thank you for the question!

some more thoughts about my version of the goth family below the cut

mortimer is a successful cutthroat entertainment lawyer in the city which is how he made all his $$$. he first met bella when she was an up and coming fashion model from a working class background, while he was already established in his career. even though she didn't know it, bella had a promising career as a model which could have led to further tv appearances and business ventures. he saw her potential star quality and he convinced her to drop out of the spotlight to be a stay at home wife and mother instead, out in the pleasantview suburbs. naive, starstruck, and still unsure of her place in this glamorous new world, bella fell for his charming facade and the picture-perfect life he promised her. as their marriage went on, she started to realize who he truly was, and as a result she grew resentful of him and felt trapped in a gilded cage. although some part of her enjoyed motherhood, another part of her felt like this choice had been made for her by her husband's wishes, and wasn't something she might have chosen for herself if she could have a do-over.

BELLA worked as a model for a short time when she was quite young and she is only really known in niche fashion and social media circles. you can still find grainy photos and videos of her runway work and her magazine campaigns on the internet if you search for them. she is remembered for her great runway walk and her timeless, elegant beauty. her striking appearance and her mystique (what happened to this rising star? why did she disappear from the fashion world and the public eye?) has contributed to her small cult following.

MORTIMER had already been seeing DINA CALIENTE on the side for a while so bella's disappearance wasn't that hard for him to deal with, although it was great for his social image to play the heartbroken husband. his wife hated him and she was getting old anyways, he had to find excitement and romance elsewhere.

CASSANDRA has fond memories of her mother. as a teen, bella often took her out to the city to go shopping, to the spa and the salon, and out to lunch with her fun and fabulous friends while her father was at work. they bonded over fashion, which mortimer never particularly cared about or understood. to cassandra, bella was the cool fun parent, while mortimer was the strict fun-police. even though her parents doted on her and gave her everything she wanted, cassandra always thought something between her parents wasn't quite right. bella's disappearance has left a hole in cassandra's heart that feels like it will never heal.

and during all this, alexander is too young to really know what's going on, nor does he have as close a bond with bella as cassandra does.

so yeah <3 goth family drama!

#welcome to my twisted mind <3 #personally i see the sims lore as starting points for character development #i take pieces i like and leave the pieces i dont like or feel neutral about #i feel like in a sandbox game you are meant to make the characters and stories your own #and adapt them to whatever situation/story you want to create

[cherryjuicegf]

thanks darling this poem is so beautiful!! this is like an alternative way for the last wish to work, i hope you enjoy ♡

wc 488, mild body horror

[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in] - e. e. cummings

She runs her fingers through her chest, a spell, and takes out her heart.

It's a beaming little thing as it lies between her hands and she shows it to him, and Geralt looks. "To make sure," she says, almost a confession if it wasn't for the blatant one of the heart beating faster, competing to show the truth first. "To know you'll never leave me."

Geralt looks.

Her thin fingers gleam with bloody magic dripping on the ground and the heart seems too big, and the space it leaves in her chest even bigger.

He cannot keep it safe. He's not one to stay safe.

Maybe he could, for her. Maybe, to make sure he never leaves her, because she has been alone for too long, and to make sure he doesn't take her with him. But how could he ever, when destiny stands like a creeping shadow behind his shoulder?

Her eyes are huge and violet under the moon, under the fire. The woods are laughing at him.

He shakes his head, staring at the heart, at the way it beats. "Yen," he whispers, pleads. Lub-dub. Lub-dub. "You don't want this. I know you." She seems to smile and he grows desperate, so desperate. "I can't keep it safe, Yen. Are you not afraid of fate?"

Lub-dub. Lub-dub.

She does smile, at last. A bitter thing, a loving thing. "What fate, you fool?" It's beating, bloody, true. "It's all you. It's all yours."

Slowly, gently, she reaches for his hands and places the heart between his palms, trembling, red. It looks so small in there. So heavy.

As though returning to its destined place, the hole in her chest starts to heal.

He parts his lips to protest, to beg. But she catches the words off his tongue. "I'm choosing this. Despite everything. Even if it breaks, I will have chosen this, do you understand?" He does. She knows he does. "If you die," she says, "let me die with you."

A lump in choking his throat. Gods, it's so unfair. And yet damn him, he cannot refuse her anything. "What if I don't want you to die?" His voice is shaking. One last attempt.

Because he cannot let her, he cannot lose her, he cannot die knowing he deserves to have company even then. Knowing he is so unbearably loved.

Yet Yennefer looks at him steady and, fingers laced in his, closes his hands around her heart and lets him devour it, own it whole. "I am a selfish woman, Geralt. Let me be selfish in love too."

He can't reply, even if he wanted. She shuts his lips closed with a kiss, and parts him open, and his chest is suddenly heavier, but he knew. He always knew.

The pleasant burden that is love, the most beautiful of all.

When they part, and he opens his palms, the heart is gone.

The blood remains.

#mmm that was something #the witcher #yenralt #geralt of rivia #yennefer of vengerberg #geralt x yennefer #prompt fill #chrysa writes #fic recs #maureen tag #mild body horror #fluff #poetry prompts #something-more

[duelistkingdom]

name: project gold rush (unofficial title)

main characters: violet foxglove & karma carter

plot: violet foxglove, age seventeen, is on the cusp of greatness. capitol records has signed her when she was only fifteen and given her complete creative freedom in her career with only one catch: they get to control her image. it is a more than fair trade in her mind and she gets to work right away on the pop album she’s always wanted to make but could never afford to make. everything is going fine until karma carter, age eighteen, crashes into her life. karma is a nepotism baby, who never wants for anything. an internationally known model with her sights are set on violet, and what karma wants, karma gets. with all the scandal and drama, it’s no wonder the two are in the tabloids all the time - but that doesn’t mean any of them know the truth.

elevator pitch: project gold rush is a romance novel set in the early 2000s and takes place over the course of decades as two rich girls learn what really matters in life.

warnings: closeting, homophobia, sexism, exploitation, manipulation, abusive parents

author's note regarding this section: this takes place in 2003 when violet is 21, karma is 23.

if you like my work, support me on kofi

Exhausted was too light of a word to describe how Violet felt after the meet and greet that had lasted for longer than she'd expected. The entire time, she reminded herself that she was lucky. That everyone would kill to be in the position she was in. She hide her exhaustion as much as she could, mirroring the energy that was shown to her. The final fan left, and Violet finally allowed herself to yawn. "Get me to Kar," she said, stretching. It didn't even occur to her what she had just said, but perhaps lucky for her, no one seemed to realized the implication of what she'd just said. "Want Kar," she said softly, rubbing her eyes.

"We can get you a car," Jessica said gently, rubbing Violet's arm. "We'll get in the car and get to Miss Carter's place. You did amazing today, Miss Foxglove."

"I'm so proud of you, sweetie," Angela said, hugging Violet tight. "You were professional and sweet all night. That's sure to leave an amazing impression on everyone. Jess, make sure people know that my daughter was professional, kind, and went above and beyond with her meet and greet."

"Consider it done, Mrs. Foxglove," Jessica said as she led Violet towards the changing room. "Vi, I imagine you're ready to get out of that make up and tight clothes into something more comfortable. No one should photograph you anymore tonight, so feel free to relax."

No one photographing her tonight meant that Violet could dress down in the Juicy tracksuit she'd bought herself with her first paycheck, but if she was going to see Karma... did she want to look dowdy? She wanted Karma to think she was hot, but she had no excuse for staying in her meet and greet outfit. If only she could come up with a good enough reason to stay in the mini skirt and tight cami... but none came to mind so she obediently changed, wishing more than ever that her life was hers. She imagined an alternate world where homophobia did not exist, where people accepted the idea of a pop star who openly loved women, who desired them, who sang about fucking them and loving them and having her heart broken by them. She imagined her mother not having an opinion on the gender of who she dated, and could almost cry at the thought.

Exhaustion overtook Violet before she knew it, and somewhere between changing and the car, she'd fallen fast asleep still in her dream world.

Violet felt like she was sinking deep into the ocean. Everything around her was black, cold, and shoving against her. For once, all the light was gone from her world. She blinked, finally waking to a room she didn't recognize. It wasn't Karma's room, and it wasn't the hotel she'd fallen asleep in last night either. The sounds of the city were gone, and it left an eerie feeling. She threw the blankets off her, rubbing the back of her neck where the sweat had caused the strands to stick. How was it so hot? The city was always so cold in October, and yet in here it was suffocating. She was still in the velour tracksuit, and that might be part of the reason.

She got out of the bed entirely, heading towards to the window. She peaked out the curtain, and to her surprise, the sight of New York City greeted her at least twenty floors below her. There was no risk of anyone below being able to see her peaking out the curtains - she was safe up here in the clouds. No one could take any photos of her, and she was hidden behind the curtains entirely if she wanted to. Her brain was foggy as she tried to sort out where she was brought to: the kind of place that would be a horror for anyone else to wake up in without any context clues. However, she remembered the fans swarming her hotel room, chasing her out of the place. From the point of view she had, she'd take a stab that she was in Upper Manhattan. With that, she was certain she was in Karma Carter's home but in a room she was not normally in.

Certain of where she was now, she left the room in hopes of finding Karma. She could hear her parents' snoring when she left, and she realized just how big Karma's place in New York actually was. It always felt so small and cozy when it was just the two of them, but now that Karma was able to put her parents, Jessica, and herself in separate rooms, it struck Violet how unnecessarily large the space was. It was harder to pretend to be just a normal girl when she was padding through the wooden floors of her supermodel best friend's penthouse home. None of the sounds of the city touched them, and Violet imagined that this was a luxury not normally afforded to those who lived elsewhere in the city. Was she right to feel guilty for the excess, or should she simply accept that she will never be a normal person ever again? It was, after all, what she had wished for.

No, it wasn't. What she'd wished for was being able to sing songs she'd written for an audience who could see her. But as long as she was keeping secrets and holding everything close to her chest, she would never have that. She could have fame and fortunate, she could have cars and glitzy award shows, but she could never truly have an audience who could see her for who she was. And it felt like the floor she was walking on suddenly became tilted - everything she'd ever wanted was now forever out of her reach. And who would sympathize with a bitch like her? She'd agreed to the terms Capitol Records had set in front of her, and signed on the dotted line.

The memory of Liam snaking his arm around her waist while she was at the Grammys hit her again, and Karma on the red carpet so far away. As long as she was under contract with Capitol Records, she could never openly be with Karma. And it was better for the both of them that it remained just friends who sometimes messed around. She couldn't ask Karma to keep secrets just to be with her. Karma's door was in front of her, and Violet hesitated, her hand on the handle. If she walked in, Karma would want to talk. She'd want a straight answer out of her. And she just didn't have any answers for her.

Once again, any choice Violet might have had in the matter was ripped away from her when Karma opened the door for her. Karma opening the door yanked Violet forward, causing the two girls to crash into each other and leaving Violet on top of Karma. Violet blinked, once again unsure of how she'd gotten in her current position. "Ah," she said softly, pushing herself up. "I'm sorry."

"Vi," Karma said softly, sitting up herself. Her long limbs reached forward to shut the door behind them. Now just the two of them behind closed doors - where secrets were best kept. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't... have gotten upset that you said we were just friends in front of your publicist and mom. I mean.... I haven't told my mom either and we never... defined this."

"No, we hadn't... and I don't think we should."

Karma furrowed her brow and tilted her head. "Vi, even if... we can't publicly..."

"I can't... it's more complicated than that." Instinctively, she put physical distance between the two of them. "I made... a mistake. Kar... this... isn't fair to you."

"And who said I want fair?" It was like her eyes were ablaze - that long burning Greek fire. In the dark, her hair was like the woods that Violet found herself wandering in. Her skin was like marble - like the Pantheon. "Because Violet Foxglove, I have never once told you that I wanted fair or easy."

"I can never come out," Violet said, finally admitting the scary truth of what she'd done. "I signed that away when I signed to Capitol Records... I gave them full control over my image. I didn't... realize the magnitude of what I'd done until I met you. As long as I'm signed to Capitol Records.... they would never, ever let me come out."

#mywriting #oc: violet foxglove #oc: karma carter #i'm not streaming tonight so here's a wip instead