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chelseeebe · 7 months

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gasoline.

so this was supposed to be like a the bear au and then i just got carried away and now it’s just whatever the hell this is lmao it’s been sitting in my docs since july and i thought it finally needed to see the light of day :)

this is two parts in one bc i hate doing two seperate parts but it’s highlighted where p1 ends and p2 begins

wc: 12k+ oops

‎♡‧₊˚

Look, the sleazy, deteriorating walls of Frank’s had never been his idea of a dream. But flunking high school and a failed band had meant limited this is where he’d ended up. Running the line at the frankly failing restaurant was more like his idea of hell but it paid the bills and with a solid team of other degenerates, meant that it wasn’t all that bad.

Well, that was until the devil incarnate came along. And by devil incarnate he means you.

Eddie couldn’t grasp why someone of your stature would ever take a job at such a shitty restaurant, with your fancy knives and kitchen lingo that really meant nothing to him, why wouldn’t you look for something else? Something better?

You’d ended up here because… well, despite going to culinary school, getting the big job after you had graduated and doing everything by the book so to speak, you’d missed that burning passion that could only be found in the shittiest, dirtiest kitchens.

Well that, and the fact you’d been let go. But that wasn’t relevant.

“Honey, I’ve been here for years, I really don’t give a shit about anything you’ve gotta say,” flapping his arms around at your suggestion of maybe washing his hands when he got back in from smoking, “Helen never had a problem with it, so why do you?”

“First off, I have asked you not to call me honey or whatever other stupid pet name you wanna give me… it’s chef,” brows furrowed, the rest of the kitchen pretending not to listen to your latest bickering, “and secondly, Helen is gone, so whatever rules she implemented mean nothing now, okay? You wash your hands when you come back in or… or…” struggling to come up with a suitable punishment.

“Or.. or what?” he mocks, turning to his colleagues for a little backup, “you gonna fire me? ‘Cause I’d love to see you try,” refusing to back down.

It was the principle, you see. Eddie really would’ve had no issue with washing his hands if literally anyone other than you had asked. He was positively fuming that you had just flounced in here and started laying down a bunch of bullshit rules that no other soul had cared about in his five years working here. Not only that, you’d beaten him to the head chef role. He was certain that he was a shoe in the second Helen announced that she was moving on. Only to walk in one morning to your grinning face, your uniform crisply ironed and this certain energy only Eddie had seemed to sense.

You sigh, you never liked to be the first one to resign after an argument but Eddie was relentless and would’ve kept at it all day if you didn’t, “Just wash your hands.. chef,” it was entirely too busy to spend all day going back and forth with the man child.

“Say please and I’ll think about it,” he’s smirking now, knowing he’s got you exactly where he wanted you.

“Please,” you frown, hand firmly on your hip as you stare back at him. You felt pathetic begging for the tiniest bit of respect in your damn kitchen but it was simply the only way to get him to cooperate.

“See, that wasn’t so hard was it?” he goads, brushing against your shoulder as he makes his way to the sink, the rest of the kitchen is in complete silence, watching and waiting to see how this one would end.

You readjust your collar, pressing your lips together in a firm line, choosing to ignore his childish remark. There would come a day that he’d regret every horrid thing he’d said to you and maybe that day wasn’t today but it would come and you could not wait.

It’s another month of butting heads with the long-haired prick before things come totally to a head. His inability to just follow simple orders had you at wits end, because Eddie truly believed that he knew better. A suggestion to add thyme to the mash potatoes had caused all out war in the kitchen.

“No, we add rosemary… not fuckin’ thyme,” he spits, aggressively stiring the pot, his back to you, guarding his precious dish from your grabby hands.

“And I’m saying to add both- actually no, I’m not saying, I’m telling,” grabbing the container of thyme and attempting to sprinkle it into the pan, “move out of the way, that’s an order.”

“Oooo,” he mocks, knuckles turning white from his grip on the handle, “An order.. I’m so scared,” chuckling as he blocks you from reaching over his shoulder, “why d’you think you know better, huh? You don’t know shit about this restaurant, we’ve done it my way for years and that’s not gonna change now.”

“Because I’m the fucking chef and I know better than you,” finally snapping at the man, slamming the container down onto the stainless steel countertop, “move. now,” you bark, widening your eyes as he twists around to meet yours, you could feel the disgust radiating from his glare.

“No.”

You huff, wanting nothing more than to wrap his fucking ponytail around your hand and slam his head into the worktop, “Step out chef,” a simple order that you thought was far more gracious than he deserved.

His mouth falls open, still gripping onto the now-overworked potatoes, “What the fuck?” frantically flailing for some comradery from his fellow workers, it seemed that they’d all fallen into place, no longer the bunch of grimy assholes he once knew.

“Step out,” you persist, teeth gritted as you stand strong on your order, tilting your chin to meet his harrowing gaze. Eddie didn’t frighten you per say, but he was intimidating and if it came down to it, you probably weren’t going to be the one to win that fight.

“Fuck this,” he exclaims, slamming the pan down onto the stove top with a loud bang before storming off out of the fire escape door, not before grabbing his cigarettes from the shelf you’d repeatedly told him not to keep them on.

There’s now mash potato all over the hob that would probably need some extensive scrubbing and would ensure that your kitchen would absolutely reek of the stuff all night. If you could have it your way, you’d have made him scrub the entire oven with a dang toothbrush until you could see your face in the metal.

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling your cheeks burn as the rest of the kitchen watches on in utter amazement, even the old, hardened chefs had taken to your ways even if it had taken a little bit of pushing. There was no understanding as to why he couldn’t just listen, just shut up and get on with his job without trying to constantly argue and bite back. Maybe because you were a woman? You were younger than him? Or maybe it was simply because someone was finally up to the job of challenging him and he hated that fact.

Whatever it was, it was getting on your last nerve.

Eddie wasn’t by any means a bad chef, he was innovative and knew how to make shit taste good, he was just incapable of accepting that maybe his way of doing things wasn’t the only way.

You smooth your clammy palms down your apron, nodding at Tina. A subtle way of telling her to carry on and take charge while you dealt with the pathetic man outside.

The door slams as you step outside, looking around the dark alley for the man, following the trail of smoke to his slouched position around the corner. Now, this was the difficult part, you weren’t really looking to fire him but what choice did you have if he couldn’t just accept that you were his boss now.

“Have you calmed down?” breaking the silence, fingernails pressed into your palm leaving tiny crescent moon indentations.

You never were one for confrontation.

He scoffs, refusing to look in your direction as he puffs on the cigarette, “I’m calm.. are you calm?”

Even now, he couldn’t just smile and nod, always had to say something else, “I’m calm,” swallowing the saliva that had gathered in your mouth, “do you want to work here?”

“Nobody wants to work here, shit- even you don’t wanna be here,” chuckling to himself, smoke falling from his lips.

“Yes I do. Do you? Because I can help you if you don’t, trust me I am not scared to just let you go.”

He chews on the inside of his cheek, tossing the cigarette to the ground before finally meeting your gaze, “you’re firing me?”

“No,” relaxing your shoulders, “but I need to know that you want to work here. That you aren’t going to keep arguing with me about stupid shit because I truly do not have the energy for it anymore,” watching as his expression falls, at a stretch you’d say he looks remorseful but that could very well just be the moonlight reflecting on his face, granting him more grace than he deserved.

The alley falls into silence, the only sounds being that of the bustling city around you and Tina’s faint voice barking instructions inside the kitchen.

His eyes avert to the concrete, with a pained expression he breaks the silence, “I do… wanna work here,” it’s like that tiny sentence caused him physical pain to get out.

“Good,” you nod, his words may mean nothing but it’s a relief to finally hear that he gives somewhat of a shit about this place running smoothly, “Eddie, for what it’s worth, I think you’re a really good chef… but even the best chefs have to take orders sometimes and you are no exception to that.”

Eddie untenses his jaw for what must be the first time in ten years, that tiny bit of affirmation was exactly what he was looking for, “...thank you,” he turns his head towards yours, “I think you’re… you’re an okay chef,” the tiniest traces of a smile on his face as he pushes himself from the rough brick.

Your eyes roll instinctively but you’re not mad, for once, “get back inside,” waving him off towards the door without turning to look at him.

Taking the moment to gather yourself and your thoughts. Who knew if Eddie had meant what he said or if it was even going to change anything but it had definitely meant something. It wasn’t a burning desire of yours to come in and be the new evil boss in fact, it was the very opposite of what you’d pictured. There just wasn’t much lee-way when you were given a team of stubborn assholes that had gotten far too used to slacking off.

Frank’s could really become something if everyone wanted it and were willing to put in the effort required to get there. Sure, you probably weren’t going to earn a Michelin star but you were sure you could make it worthy of something.

Eddie had mostly kept to his word. Finally washing his hands and keeping his hair out of his face, even if you had had to nag at him a little. There wasn’t as much kick back as before. Sure, he’d roll his eyes and huff and puff but he’d actually do it.

It’s another Saturday night, you’re not so busy but enough to keep you on your toes. Just longing for the moment you collapsed into your bed and didn’t have to think about this place until Monday morning.

Eddie sidles up to where you’re working, going over the rota for the next two weeks. Weighing up if waking up at the ass crack of dawn was actually worth all this.

“So I was thinking..”

“Uh oh,” you add, snapping the book shut before turning to him, he’s hopeful. Well, that or he’s about to say the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard.

“Yeah great thanks.. so I was thinking, it’s getting warmer, right? I think we should put sandwiches on the menu, and not just boring old sandwiches.. like, like good ones,” his vocabulary is limited but you get what he means.

You ponder for a moment, staring into his wide, optimistic eyes. It was a good idea to be fair to him, you just weren’t sure if you had the time to conjure up a whole new sandwich menu on top of everything else on your plate.

“Okay, I actually think that’s a great idea,” you two were civil, not exactly the best buds but you think maybe now you could trust him. “If you can come up with some ideas and make them for me.. I’ll think about it.”

His grin is infectious as it spreads across his face, “I got you… what are you thinking? Something with chicken or..” fishing for ideas.

You throw your hands up, a shadow of a smile on your lips, “that is entirely up to you, okay?”

He nods knowingly, slowly backing away, eager to get started on his first individual project since your arrival.

“I’m trusting you with this!” you holler after him, getting back to the mess of a rota in front of you.

“Yes boss,” he calls back from somewhere in the kitchen, “I mean chef,” catching himself.

Your heart warms a little. Maybe your lectures hadn’t gone so unnoticed after all?

No matter how hard you stare at the screen, willing for something to magically appear, it doesn’t. The line marker blinking at you, taunting you, pleading with you to just write something. Anything!

There’s a quiet wrapping of knuckles against the door causing your head to fly up, finding a surprisingly clean Eddie standing in the doorway.

“Hi,” spinning your chair slightly, “shit, sorry I forgot to say you’re good to go, I’ll see you tomorrow,” flashing him a tight lipped smile.

“Oh no… most of ‘em have already gone,” vaguely motioning to the now empty kitchen, “uh… a few of us were gonna grab a drink and wondered if you’d wanna join us?” He resembles a shy child, fingers tapping along the battered door frame.

“Oh!” you must’ve sounded shocked as his eyebrows travel up his forehead in surprise, getting invited out by your crew had just.. never really happened before, “I’m sorry, I actually can’t tonight,” pointing at the blank word document, “the menu is due next week and I uh- I have nothing but you guys have fun,” shooing him off.

It was a Thursday night and you couldn’t think of anything worse than waking up tomorrow with a blinding hangover.

“You need help with that menu shit? I mean, my sandwiches are a hit so.. maybe I could help?” placing his jacket on the old cabinet in the corner, prepared to help no matter what you replied.

You’re not exactly in the position to say no to help at this point..

“I mean.. yeah, if you can think of six amazing, brilliant, showstopping new dishes then be my guest because I sure as shit can’t,” unintentionally coming off a little rude.

It’s just frustrating, the first big step you were taking for this restaurant and you were still somehow managing to fuck it up

“Okay, what’ve you got?” he peers over your shoulder at the blank screen, “ah, right,” he sucks his teeth, “not great.”

“No.. no it’s not,” slouching down the chair, “I’m completely fucked,” pushing the loose strands of hair from your forehead.

“You’re not completely fucked- not yet,” dragging the spare chair around to the other side of the desk, “I’m sure we can think of something tonight,” pulling the laptop closer to him.

You smile at him, grateful for his positivity even if it was fake.

The pair of you throw some shoddy ideas back and forth for a half hour. None of them good enough to make it to the word document, instead getting scribbled onto a ripped out page from your notebook.

“I am fucked, aren’t I?” you frown, rubbing your sleepy eyes.

He chuckles softly, “nah.. there’s some good stuff here,” running his finger down the messy list.

You feel completely vulnerable with him here, it might have been the lack of sleep or just the fact that you appreciated his presence so much but you foolishly begin to let your thoughts wander.

“I just feel like I’m fuu-,” immediately regretting opening your mouth, “no, you know what? Doesn’t matter,” you look at the clock on the wall signalling that it had gone well past midnight, “you should get going, it’s late,” pretending to scroll on the still-bare document.

“No, what were you gonna say?”

You keep your eyes on the screen, tapping your foot against the leg of the chair, “I said it doesn’t matter.”

“It obviously does,” he pushes, egging you on.

You take a sharp intake of breath to signal that you weren’t willing to go any further with this. Why couldn’t he just fucking drop it?

“Oh my God, you started this conversation and now you don’t wanna finish it,” frustrated that it had seemed like you were finally beginning to seem like you were somewhat human, he grabs his discarded jacket, rolling his eyes as he starts to exit the office.

“I’m scared I’m not doing a good job… you all obviously care about this place and I’ve just come in here and ruined it,” biting down onto your bottom lip, “and as much as you all pretend to like me, I know you don’t and- and that’s fine,” you shrug, exasperated with the weight of a thousand bricks hanging onto your shoulders, “I don’t care about being liked, I just want this restaurant to work but it feels like I can’t even do that,” slumping forward, confounded and slightly in shock that the first person you’d spilled all of this to was fucking Eddie.

“I do like you,” he says quietly, stopping in his tracks, throwing his jacket back down, “everyone does… you’re making this restaurant better,” rejoining you at the desk, “we’re all just stubborn and mean so no one’s told you but you’re doing good,” a reassuring smile overcoming his lips, his hand wavers, unsure of whether to reach out to touch your shoulder or if that was a step too far.

He flops back into the chair and you offer him a genuine smile for his words. It was really all you could muster without starting to cry. Coming into an already established restaurant with new ideas and ways of working was never easy but to be met with such pushback from him had made it even harder. So to now have him say in front of you, telling you that what you’re doing is right, well it meant the world.

“Thank you,” you mouth, blinking earnestly as you flip the laptop lid shut, it was too late and you were far too tired to even try to continue. “That really means a lot from you,” attempting to turn your vulnerability into a joke.

“I mean it, though,”scooting closer on the chair, “I just enjoy arguing with you too much to admit it.”

You roll your eyes playfully, that much was true, he definitely enjoyed getting under your hair and pissing you off as much as he could.

“We should go, it’s super late and I’ve got all day tomorrow to do this,” sliding the pen into the pot, feeling his eyes still boring into the side of your face.

You stand from your seat, expecting him to follow but he stays firmly planted in his chair. Hand reaching out to grab your wrist as you grab your bag. Jolting away as you’re not expecting the sudden contact.

He swallows, standing up before deciding whether to just fuck it or if this was about to get him fired. You’re blissfully unaware that this internal battle was even happening until his hand is on your cheek, tilting your chin upwards before closing the distance between your bodies, smashing his lips to yours.

Oh shit.

It takes a second for your brain to process what was happening but you don’t.. dislike it. He tastes like cigarettes and coffee, sliding his tongue into your parted mouth with a quickness.

Leaning into the kiss, your hands hesitantly coming to rest on his shoulders. You’re taken aback by how easy it feels, moving together just right. The small of your back crashes into the rigid desk, pulling you out of the kiss and back into reality. Staring back at his darkened eyes with a slight bemused expression.

“No.. not here,” squeezing his shoulder. His hand paused on your shirt button, getting ahead of himself. Maybe you had found yourself wanting to fuck Eddie but not here. You weren’t that stupid.

His hand falls, swinging to his side, “oh.. you didn’t- did I fuck up?” still mere inches from your face, so close in fact, you could feel his breath on your flushed cheek.

“No.. no, I just..” deciding to just bite the bullet and go for it, “do you wanna go back to my apartment? It’s not far,” blinded by the haze of lust that was filling the small room to the brim.

His eyes grow wide, realising exactly what you meant, buzzing with impatience and excitement. “Yes.. yeah I’d love to,” his plump lips still wet with the remnants of your mouth.

You nod, letting go of his shoulder to gather your things, and yourself, before pulling him out of the restaurant. Eddie is more than willing to leave his van in the parking lot, jumping into your car with an primal eagerness.

The car journey is quiet and you wonder if this maybe wasn’t the best idea. What would everyone at work say? Maybe they didn’t have to know? This could be a one time thing and you’ll both just never mention it again. Well, you hope anyway.

You think your head might just burst the second he walks into your apartment, somewhere you had never expected Eddie to ever appear.

You’re quick to continue the abandoned kiss, not giving him any opportunity to make wise cracks about your apartment. It somehow felt easier if it was just mindless sex where you didn’t speak.

Guiding him towards your bedroom because the couch felt just a tad too casual. His hands are everywhere, sneaking underneath your blouse and then back down into the waistband of your pants. You shove him backwards onto your bed, clambering on top quickly so as to not give him a chance to start speaking or to do anything stupid.

Eddie’s obviously not keen on giving you the higher ground, gripping onto your waist and flipping the both of you so that he led on top. He’s got this devilish grin on his face that is so smug, you just want to slap it off of him. You chase the taste of his mouth with yours, becoming accustomed to the mixture of cigarettes and mint. God, you hope this doesn’t become a regular thing.

He pulls away from you to gawp down the space between your bodies, mouth hung open, gasping for breath while his fingers skillfully unbutton your pants, pink tongue poking out to wet his lips, “woah… when the hell d’you get that?” staring at the black ink covering your thigh, a rose curling around the length of your flesh.

A dumb decision you’d made the first week of culinary school. You felt out of place alongside the other chefs who were absolutely covered in tattoos and felt the need to join them. Except, you hadn’t exactly thought about it and just went along with the first thing the dodgy artist had suggested. He’d also quite purposely left out just how much such a large piece would fucking hurt, especially for a first tattoo.

You join him in looking down at it, curling your lips in disgust, “when I was like… eighteen, it’s ugly and I hate it so thank you,” continuing your task of getting his jacket off, ignoring the fact that he was still ogling the inking and slightly starting to regret your decision to bring him here.

“It’s fucking sick, what are you talking about?” he’s smirking, running his fingers along the thick lining as your pants hang around your knees, “I thought you were like… boring,” finding the hem of your lacy underwear and tugging on it.

Your lips hover above his, eyes hooded as you glare at him, “can you just shut up before I regret everything and make you leave?”

He nods instantaneously, connecting your lips with a quickness, shaking his jacket off of his arm and onto the floor with a thud. Repositioning his knees to either side of your thighs, you’d done a good job of getting your shirt half-off, his fingers fiddling with the rest of the buttons as you break from his lips, leaving wet kisses along his stubbly jawline.

“Holy fuck, you’re joking?” his eyes just about popping out of his head as your pierced nipples spill out of your bra. Another spontaneous teenage decision you hadn’t got round to getting rid of yet.

His hand is immediately drawn to your exposed breast, full of pure glee, “you’re a dark horse, you know that right?” thumb running over the erect nipple as you fumble with his tattered old belt.

Your mouth opens to protest his ogling but is quickly replaced with a soft gasp, his thumb working miracles on the sensitive bud. Head falling back against the pillow when his lips replace his thumb, licking and sucking on your nipple with a wicked grin.

“Shit,” you moan, his growing erection rutting against your core, “can you- please hurry up,” it sounds strangled coming from your throat, embarrassed that you’ve completely melted into a pile of putty beneath him. If you’d have known that his mouth could be put to such good use, maybe you’d have tried this earlier.

Thankfully, he takes the hint, leaving one last kitten lick to your chest before rushing to get his pants down. Kicking them off to the side somewhere, the clunk of his belt buckle hitting your bed frame on the way down.

“Oh baby, that all for me?” remarking on your absolutely sodden underwear, hurriedly pulling them down your thighs, before using the same hand to position himself at your dripping entrance.

You’re too desperate to think of anything smart to say back, knowing that if you opened your mouth you’d probably just start begging.

His face mere inches from yours as he pushes himself inside, a groan from somewhere deep in his chest falls out, “Jesus Christ,” he stutters, willing himself not to cum right now. Sex is always better with someone you detested. Now why is that?

Your arms loosely knot around his neck, intertwining your fingers with his hair, trying your utmost to hold eye contact as his hips begin to move. Slow at first, reaching the hilt before pulling back and sliding in, it’s excruciatingly slow and your legs tighten around his waist, begging for more.

“Faster.. please Eddie,” whining as his pace quickens, eyes fluttering shut.

“Yeah yeah.. yeah, say my name,” he blabbers, one hand sliding between your, thumb tapping against your swollen clit before rubbing tiny circles to the sensitive surface.

“Shit,” you breathe, feeling incredibly full as his tip nudges against that soft, spongy spot. Your eyes squeeze shut, illuminated with an illustration of stars and white hot light. Your heart wasn’t eager to just adhere to his demands like that but shit, when he sounded this desperate, you couldn’t help it.

Chanting his name like an oath in time with his thrusts. The filthy sounds of his balls slapping against your ass fills the room, accompanying the strained groans coming from his throat. It was far too late and your neighbours could surely hear every single thing.

“Fuck,” he breathes and you can feel his hips stutter, “you gonna cum for me? Huh?” dropping his forehead to rest against yours.

Your thighs squeeze around his torso at the words, feeling yourself grow closer to your impending orgasm. His thumb still expertly rubbing your clit, slow but deep thrusts as he nears his own end. Your brain too hazy to think coherently about anything as you tighten around him, overcome with the blinding pleasure of your orgasm.

“Yesyesyes,” you garble, trembling as you come undone completely, back arching from the mattress which brings your bodies impossibly close. Tugging gently on his curls as a means of encouragement, not that he needed it.

“Ohhh fuck yeah.. shit,” unable to stop himself in time, spurting thick ropes of cum inside of you. You’re too fucked out to truly think about the implications yet, still gasping for air as he pumps his cock a few measly times before pulling out and sitting up on his knees.

His wild hair stuck to his moist forehead as he looms above, trying to catch his own breath between your knees. “I’m so sorry.. you’re not.. you can’t get pregnant, can you?” one hand coming to rest on your thigh.

Your eyes roll on their own, accelerating back to Earth at an insane pace, “no,” reshuffling so you laid comfortably on the pillow, “but you can’t do that again,” glaring up at him without any realisation as to what you just said.

“Again?” his brows raise, still poised between your legs, “there’s a next time?”

You huff, turning on your side, away from Eddie and his stupid doe eyes and that ridiculous smirk. Reaching down to grab a shirt from your bedside table while he chuckles to himself.

Ashamedly, your heart skips a beat when he slides in behind you, pressing his body into yours. You were losing it, and embarrassingly quickly too. Ah fuck.

A hand snaking around your waist pulls you from your sleep and for a brief moment you start to think someone had broken in and decided to crawl into bed with you. Until said hand creeps down to your hip and those lips you’d hung off last night press a small kiss to your shoulder.

“Morning,” you grumble, placing your hand atop of his to stop it creeping into the waistband of your shorts.

“Ah c’mon..” frowning against your back, “best way to start a long day.”

“I have to get ready for work, so do you actually,” keeping your head firmly on the pillow, there were no real intentions of getting up. Not yet.

“Hmm.. five minutes,” hand descending even with yours on top, his smirk evident, dripping through his words. You shudder as his hand reaches your cunt, leaning backwards into his chest, ever so slightly parting your legs.

“Five minutes,” you agree, fully acknowledging that you were slipping into dangerous territory here.

“Did you fuck Helen too?” you ask, not really wanting to know the answer but just having to know if you were right in your stereotyping.

Every kitchen had one. The one that seemed to make their way around everyone eventually. You were sure Eddie was that one and you were the last on his hit list.

“What? Helen was like fifty dude,” messing with the volume dial on the radio.

“So? Did you?”

He’s silent for a second, throwing his hands into the air, “it was one time,” raging that you’d caught him out on such a baseless accusation.

“I knew it,” nodding smugly to yourself, he most definitely has the aura of the kitchen bike and that was for sure.

“Yeah but… you’re like actually hot and I know what you’re thinking but no, I am not a slut… it was once and we were drunk and that was it, so you can shut up,” deciding to turn the stereo off, not a fan of your choice of Taylor Swift records.

“I’m like… actually hot?” mimicking his tone.

His eyes roll into the back of his head, of course that’d be the only part of the sentence you picked up on, “hon, you don’t notice me pop a boner everytime we argue?”

Your face screws up, unsure of whether to take it as a compliment or if you should be speaking to HR, “wasn’t generally looking in that direction if I’m honest,” swinging round into the car park, just past Eddie’s abandoned van, “thanks though… I think,” smiling at him as you gather your things.

“It was a compliment, by the way,” stepping out of your car, tapping the doors of his rusty old van before walking inside, going on and on about Peggy (his van) and how important she was to him.

You’re not entirely paying attention as you walk into the kitchen, startled by the presence of somebody already clattering about in there. Eddie follows closely behind, just as confused as you that anybody sane would be here this early.

“Hello?” you call out, rounding the corner to spot Marcus who had taken it upon himself to come in early to start prep, making a monumental mess of the counter.

“Oh yeah, hey… I wanted to start now ‘cause I need to leave early- you two came in together?” perplexed by the sight of Eddie peering over your shoulder, the batter covered wooden spoon pointed at the pair of you.

“Right… er- his van broke down last night and I said I’d give him a ride,” nodding at your obviously fabricated story, looking to Eddie for some back up.

He nods along happily, “I’m gonna take a look at ‘er later, fingers crossed or you’ll be givin’ me rides all week,” slinking away into the locker room with a sly smirk on his face, thankfully hidden by the shoddy wall as he winks.

“God forbid,” you quip back, scrunching up your nose as you leave the two of them and make your way to the office, throwing your bag onto the cluttered desk and collapsing onto the desk chair.

You had to get this damn menu done by Friday or you were completely, utterly fucked. Already three days behind on the schedule, you’d be lucky if you even made it home tonight. Flinging the discarded laptop lid open to be met with the very much blank menu once again. An email pings through that makes your heart jump. It must’ve gone unseen when you were otherwise occupied last night.

Hello,

I hope this email finds you well.

I just wanted to confirm that Joan will be in attendance on May 18th as per your invitation. She is looking forward to trying the new menu and will subsequently write a review expecting to be published on or around the 20th.

Thank you,

Imogen Smart, The Indianapolis Star

Oh shit oh fuck oh balls.

It had slipped your mind that you’d even invited her along to try the new menu. What a colossal mistake this would turn out to be.

Stupid, stupid girl.

You’re slouched over the desk, head in your hands when Eddie creeps through the open door, startling you when he speaks, “you good?” making his way to the desk, leering down to look at the screen as if it was any of his business.

“I really do not have time for you right now,” smoothing out your new-found forehead wrinkles. You never had time for his bullshit but you certainly did not have time for them now.

“Eh, what the fuck? I was inside of you like three hours ago and now you’re being weird again?”

“Shhh- shut up,” you whisper-shout, the chair rolling back as you stand rather ferociously, staring at the gap in the door and just praying that Marcus was too busy doing whatever the fuck he was doing to hear.

“Jesus… chill out,” his hands are on your shoulders, soothing your nerves irregardless of how much you cared to admit it.

You blink at him, cheeks burning, “I just- I have so much to do today, this critic is coming and I still haven’t finished the men-”

Your sentence is rudely interrupted with his soft lips pressing against yours, caressing your cheek with his rough hand. It’s automatic, but you’re leaning into it, finding yourself gripping onto his bicep as he nudges you back towards the desk. It’s probably a good thing that your tailbone smacks into the sharp edge, pushing him from you as you come back to planet Earth.

“Stop.. stop,” gently squeezing his arm, the other consoling your throbbing spine, “I need you out there today, okay? You’re gonna have to take charge, get shit done and do not bother me unless that kitchen is on fire or you’ve cut your arm off, okay?” lowering your head to meet his eyeline.

“My arm? That’s a bit extreme,” deciding to turn your high stress situation into a joke.

“Yes your arm, finger you can deal with, capiche?”

“Yes ma’am,” hand lingering on the small of your back, “you sure you’re good?”

You exhale slowly and perhaps a tad too harshly snap, “yes.. I’m okay, now unless you have a brand new menu for me.. get out,” sweetening the blow with a sickly smile, motioning for him to leave.

“Okay okay..” he begins walking to the door, “I’m in charge, right?” ever the opportunist.

“Yes, but do not make me regret it,” flashing him a warning look.

“Sweet,” winking at you as he slips out of the door, rubbing his hands together like the little demon he is. You roll your eyes but can’t deny the way your heart thuds with affection.

Whatever was blossoming had the potential to fuck up every single good thing you’d done for this place, but you’d be damned if you weren’t going to at least see how far you could go before total chaos.

- p2

You had meant for it to be casual. Like a few times a month sorta thing. And yet somehow you’re sat with your head on Eddie’s shoulder, half asleep as the gory horror film he’d picked plays on.

It had started that way, to be fair. After a stressful day or on a quick lunch break you’d catch him and pull him into the office. It’s no surprise really that it didn’t take long for the rest of the kitchen to catch on.

But back to right now, you’re only supposed to be resting your eyes as you lean into his shoulder. He smelt like kitchen, cigarettes and the new cologne you’d bought for him as his old one was quite frankly disgusting and had irritated your nose. He jolts upright when the screen flashes, knocking you from his shoulder and rudely pulling you out of your slumber.

“You’re a prick,” you mumble, glowering in his direction before opting for the opposite side of the sofa, the side that wasn’t rude.

He snorts but quickly realises that you are very serious and very much not happy, “I’m sorry.. come sleep on me again,” pleading with you, “or d’you wanna go to bed?” clicking the pause button on the remote.

“I wanted to go to bed an hour ago,” grumbling into the cushion as he’d ignored your request and swore that you’d just love this new movie. You didn’t. It was fucking boring.

“Okay okay, let’s go to bed,” he shuts the television off before standing from the couch, towering over your curled up body, “I’m not fuckin’ carrying you,” already wise to your tricks.

You groan something incoherently, something deeply offensive to his entire bloodline, before pulling yourself from the couch. “You know, if we’d gone to bed when I’d asked, I would’ve let you put it in my ass,” shrugging innocently before leading the way to your bedroom.

“Wait what? You didn’t say- I didn’t know that was an option!” speed-walking to catch up with you, incredibly eager to figure out if this offer was still on the table.

It was not.

“Yup, shame really.. you should probably listen to me more,” clambering into the unmade bed with the tiniest smirk on your face.

He’s not far behind, leaping into your bed, “we can still do that though, right? It’s only..” glancing at your alarm clock, “..two” he doesn’t even sound sure of himself.

“Nope,” pulling the blanket over your shoulders, purposely choosing to face the other way, “you missed your chance buddy.”

Whoever had done the ordering (you) had royally fucked up and left tomatoes off of the list. So as a consequence of your stupidity, you were now in Bradley’s trying to balance ten packets of stupid fucking tomatoes in your arms.

You’re not even looking where you're going, too focused on not dropping the damn horrid red things as you skulk through the store. It’s already too late when you bash the elbow of some innocent bystander, knocking multiple packets to the ground.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” you grumble, grabbing at the discarded fruits with your spare hand.

The kind gentleman had already started to try and balance them back in your arms. You look up to thank the stranger to be met with a face you hadn’t seen since high school.

“Steve Harrington? I- what the fuck?” you remark, clutching onto the produce so as to not cause another collapse.

“Holy shit, it’s you,” he’s utterly dumbfounded, staring back at your face in amazement.

You’re suddenly extremely aware of your dirty uniform and messy hair, eyeing his well pressed suit and just general put-togetherness. His hair still perfectly styled though just a bit shorter now.

“What are you doing here? I didn’t think you lived in Indiana anymore?” the last you’d heard of him, his father had sent him away to his office in New York, desperate for his son to have the life he never had.

“Ah.. well, I do now, bit of a long story,” chuckling awkwardly as he takes the majority of your tomatoes to the counter, lightening the load.

“Oh well, that’s cool..” you nod to the cashier who asks if you’d like a bag or multiple bags in your case, “I’d love to catch up but I’ve got a bit of a tomato crisis, uh..” digging in your pocket for the company card.

“Yeah definitely… here let me,” he grabs one of the jam packed bags under his arm, “I’m gonna assume these aren’t all for you?” leading the way to the parking lot.

“Oh no, I fucking hate tomatoes.. I messed up at work so it’s my job to fix it,” loading the bags into your dusty old car, “here, take my number and we can plan something.. it’s been so long,” grabbing for your phone in your apron.

“I uh- I actually have your number,” he nods, not bothering to get his own phone out.

“I’ve changed my number since high school, Steve.”

“No, yeah I know.. I got it from Robin, I was s’posed to call you when I got back..” rubbing his thumb along his forehead and into his hair, “I’ll give you a call later and we can do something,” smiling softly as he closes your back door.

“Oh, okay.. yes please call me, I- uh I really have to get back,” sliding into the driver's seat, fumbling with your keys, as you roll the window down to continue the conversation.

“I will, I hope your tomato crisis.. gets better,” shrugging awkwardly as you start the engine. Wincing at his choice of words.

“Me fucking too,” rolling your eyes as you pull off, not entirely registering what had just happened, focused on getting these stupid vegetables back to the restaurant.

It’s not until an unknown number flashes up on your screen that you think about it again. He’d left it until you were right in the middle of stuffing dinner down your throat to call of course.

“Hello?” you muffle into the phone, chewing on the lukewarm piece of chicken.

“Hey! It’s Steve.. you said to call so.. I called,” he sounds nervous, like he was calling a stranger and not you.

“Oh hey.. sorry I’m eating,” covering your mouth as you loudly swallow, “how are you?”

“Yeah I’m good, hope your crisis turned out okay,” laughing into the receiver.

“Surprisingly, it wasn’t too bad.. thank you for your help, you saved me from squishing a ton of tomatoes.”

“Of course,” he clears his throat, “would you wanna grab a coffee or something tomorrow? I take it you’re busy with your.. tomatoes but I’m free pretty much whenever.”

“Yes.. yes erm-,” you set the phone onto loudspeaker and flit through the bookings for tomorrow, it wasn’t insanely busy and you were sure they would manage without you for an hour or so, “does ten sound good for you?”

“Ten is perfect,” you can hear his smile through the phone, “I’ll see you there then, enjoy your dinner,” still sounding as awkward as ever.

“Okay.. I’ll see you then, then,” making a mental note for tomorrow that you’d probably end up forgetting anyway.

You end the call, locking your phone and finally giving all your attention to the cold plate of food in front of you.

“Who was that?” Eddie appears out of nowhere, frowning as he walks into the office.

“Hmm? Oh, my friend Steve,” devouring the chicken without a second thought as to why he was even questioning it.

“Your friend? That you’re going for coffee with…?”

“Were you listening to my conversation?” blinking up at him.

“No.. I overheard you- don’t change the subject, you’re ditching work for a date?” he’s scowling, coming to perch on the desk.

“It’s not a date,” you warn, prodding the fork into his rib, “he’s a friend from school and we’re catching up while it’s quiet tomorrow, is that okay with you?” shaking your head, not that you were genuinely asking for his approval.

He narrows his eyes, “I suppose..” he takes the fork from your hand, helping himself to your dinner, “it’s just coffee?” asking tentatively as his greedy ass tucks in.

“Oh my God yes, it’s just coffee,” he was incredibly jealous for someone who was not your boyfriend.

“Okay okay.. sheesh, no need to get defensive.. date whoever you want,” shrugging as if he couldn’t care less.

“You’re the one getting jealous, not my fault you never ask me to go for coffee.”

“Because we spend every waking moment together anyway,” repetitively banging his heel into the desk, irritating you to no end. “But I’ll make sure to ask you to go for coffee from now on.. don’t want some loser taking my place.”

You huff, pulling the plate away from his greedy hands, “are you done?”

He shuffles backwards, still picking at your food despite your obvious attempts to get it away from him. “Okay okay.. I’m done.”

Eddie, in fact, does not drop it.

He’s still pouting when you climb into bed, sighing to himself like a pathetic old dog. Except now, he’d become desperate and slightly weird about it. Making all sorts of promises and hypothetical dates for you two to go on.

“Why don’t we go for coffee tomorrow? I’ll even pay,” walking his fingers along your side.

“Eddie please, can you stop? Who am I in bed with right now? Because it’s not Steve, I can tell you that,” exasperated by his incessant attempts to piss you off.

“Okay.. okayy,” retiring this tired bit for the night at long last, “you’re still taking me to work, right?” settling his hand on your waist, cuddling into your back.

“Yes, you bum,” switching the lamp off before setting your head on the pillow.

“I’m not a bum,” feeling him frown against your back, “it’s not my fault you refuse to get in my van.”

“It’s a death trap, I’d rather risk walking along the highway,” smiling into the darkness.

“Yeah whatever, good night,” he mumbles, pretending to be pissed off until you feel the tiniest, sweetest kiss to your shoulder.

You’re running late, as usual. Something about the bookings being fucked for tonight meaning you were either going to have a full restaurant or have absolutely no one show up.

It didn’t matter to you, not right now anyway because you’re jogging along the sidewalk to get to the dang café before Steve thinks you’ve abandoned him.

You’re huffing and puffing when you shove open the door, making a royal fool of yourself as anyone would believe you’ve just sprinted in a marathon to get here.

Steve jolts up the second he hears the door go, giving you a small wave from his table in the corner. It’s a relief that he hadn’t just up and left considering you were fifteen minutes late.

“I am so so sorry,” you say hurriedly, sliding into the other chair, “another crisis and obviously I’m the only one who’s capable of fixing things so..” you stop your rambling to look at him properly, “sorry- you don’t care, shit did you order?”

He chuckles nervously, “yeah.. I didn’t know what you wanted so I didn’t get you anything,” he stands up, “what d’ya get?”

“Uhh a cappuccino would be great.. thanks,” setting your bag down on the vacant chair beside you.

You chat about nothing and everything for a while until Steve turns the conversation back to high school. Now, you and Steve had a weird relationship during high school; hung around the same group, had a massive crush on the guy and was pretty certain that he at least liked you too. It had just never amounted to anything.

“I remember in school, you always used to cook shit for us.. it’s crazy that you’ve got your own restaurant now,” shaking his head in slight disbelief.

You’d bring tupperware full to the brim with whatever random shit you’d cooked up the night before. Forcing your friends to eat it and share their opinions no matter how harsh they could be.

“It’s not really my restaurant,” sipping the cappuccino he’d kindly bought, “I just run it and make sure it doesn’t burn down or go bankrupt,” laughing to yourself.

“So it’s technically yours..” fingers fiddling around with the empty sugar packet, “I’ll have to come by sometime, I wanna see what all the fuss is about.”

“I mean, I could probably get you in tomorrow.. if you wanted?”

“Well yeah, that sounds great,” smiling earnestly across the table.

“Great! I’ll text you the details later but you should definitely bring your wife, I’d love to meet her,” you vaguely remember seeing the extravagant wedding pictures on Facebook a few years back.

You hadn’t paid much attention as to who he’d married just recalled noticing the absolutely gargantuan manor house in the back and how stunning her dress was.

His smile fades and his mouth opens to speak but doesn’t manage to squeeze anything out. You get the feeling that that might have been the wrong thing to say. Immediately wanting to slide down your seat and hide under the table.

Steve takes it well though, laughing softly, “Ah.. not anymore but uh- thank you for bringing that back up,” playfully shaking his head.

“Oh no, oh my God.. I’m sorry,” grimacing because of your big fat mouth, “I thought I’d seen it on Facebook but maybe that wasn’t you.. oh fuck.”

“No.. it probably was me, we just- yeah not anymore,” wiggling his empty hand in your direction, only just now are you noticing the lack of a ring.

“I’m sorry,” smiling apologetically, “I’ve gotta ask though.. what happened?”

He sits back in his chair, preparing for the absolute novel of a story he was about to tell, “well, my dad moved me to New York, wanted me to learn how to be a man or whatever,” waving his arms about, “and I met the love of my life- I thought I met the love of my life.. we got married and it was great for a little while but she..” he inhales, recalling the still bitter memories, “..obviously didn’t feel the same way,” you’re sat eager eyed, waiting for the real gossip, “she was fucking her boss.. whole time.”

“Shittt…” baring your teeth in a pained expression, “that’s awful Steve, I’m so sorry,” gingerly patting his outstretched arm, “what a bitch.”

He nods along, “yeah she is,” his fingers drum a rhythm into the table, “that’s why I’m back here… I’m sick of New York.”

“God,” guilt rising into your chest for being the one to bring that back up, “at least you’re home now, right? Must be nice seeing everyone again,” your eyes flitting to your phone that had lit up for the umpteenth time.

eds:) : when r u coming back??

eds:) : helloooo?

eds:) : stop fucking ur boyfriend and come back 2 work

eds:) : i’m being serious now we need u

Steve follows your gaze to your phone screen, realising that you’d been sitting here for a while now and he’d just pulled you from your work to talk about his messy divorce. “Work?”

You look back at him, “yeah.. I’m gonna have to run, but I’ll get you a table for tomorrow,” pushing your chair back, grabbing for your bag, “bring whoever.. I’ll text you the details!” offering him a small smile as you rush out of the busy cafe not bothering to wait for his reply.

Eddie is just as irritating as expected when you get back, hanging off of your arm the second you walk in the door.

“So, you just had coffee? You were gone a long time, man,” an attempt to play off his jealousy, though it was hardly working.

“Don’t call me man, and yep, just coffee. Like I’ve said a hundred times before,” hanging up your bag and tying the apron around your waist.

“Right.. he wasn’t tryna do anything though, was he? ‘Cause I can tell him straight if you need me to,” hanging around your ankles like a lost puppy dog.

“He’s in the middle of a divorce. I don’t think you need to do anything, big boy,” gently patting his arm.

“Ohh so that’s why he’s back and trying to fuck you now.. I get his game.”

You turn to face him, sandwiched between his body and the rusty lockers, “will you just relax? Please,” running your hands down his chest.

Eddie frowns slightly, but nods, “he’s got nothin’ on me anyway..” a silhouette of a smirk forming on his face, “you know who’s givin’ it to ya good,” planting his lips on yours before you get the chance to express your utter disgust.

You’re smiling when he pulls back but push him away from you regardless, “do not ever say that shit to me again,” tightening the straps around your waist, walking away from the freak and into whatever hell awaits you in the kitchen.

It’s not very surprising that Steve comes in alone, your heart aches a little seeing him sat at the table on his own.

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie is watching your face with a foul scowl on his. His eyes roll to the back of his head when you announce that you’re going to see how he is, practically snarling at the thought.

He knows the dish in front of him is Steve’s order, he’d audibly criticised the fact that Steve had removed the mushrooms from his food, is he a fucking toddler or something?

His eyes dart around the room, pursing his lips as he prepares to maybe just let the glob of spit fall out of his mouth and accidentally into Steve’s childish dinner.

“Don’t,” Tina’s hand clamps over his mouth, stopping his despicable plans in motion.

“I wasn’t actually gonna do it,” he protests, glowering at his co-worker. He definitely was going to do it and she knew it.

“Leave him alone,” flashing him that universally understood look that tells him not to even dare, “can you blame her, though? Meow,” grinning as her eyes flicker to you and Steve through the tiny window.

Eddie kisses the back of his teeth, whipping the dish towel at her, “ha ha very funny,” she’s desperate to rile him up as much as possible, taunting him with her mean quips.

His eyes slide to the window, met with the image of you absolutely cracking up at something Steve had said. It was the kinda laugh he loved to force out of you, usually late at night when you were overly tired and a little hazy. Unheard by most people. It was a slight comfort to know that Steve definitely wasn’t that funny, he could almost bank on it.

It’s like torture watching the pair of you interact for what feels like forever. Pulling his eyes away, deciding to go for a cigarette instead of putting himself through any more of that.

The air outside is still, it’s getting colder again but it seemed like Indiana was still hanging onto the dregs of summer; the sky illuminated with streaks of pink and orange. Maybe that’s what he was doing? Desperately clawing to keep your thing alive all the while you were trying to wriggle out of it.

He’s harshly pulled out of his self-pitying cloud, “Eddie?” you call out of the door, bounding over to where he was slouched against the brick wall, “thank you for doing that.. he said it’s great,” your toothy grin making an appearance.

Eddie grunts something in response, trying desperately not to think of you smiling at Steve like that.

“What? You okay? Why’re you being weird?”

“I’m not being weird,” he shrugs, lying through his teeth. He couldn’t help it, his heart twisting and contorting with every mention of that prick's name.

“Yes you are,” sighing softly, “you’re actually jealous? I thought you were just joking,” stepping toward him as he throws the cigarette to the floor.

His eyes eventually find yours, “I’m not.. jealous,” curling his finger into the bow of your apron strap, using it to pull you in, “I don’t get jealous,” another blatant lie.

“Mhm is that right?” you giggle, his behaviour over the past few days had proven that statement to be false. Wrapping your arms around his waist as your cheek begins to rest on his chest.

Desperately trying to convince himself that this is a sign. That if you’d really wanted to, you’d be in there, doing this with Steve. But you’re not. You’re here. You’re clinging onto him and everything is fine.

The door handle at the front of the store rattles a couple times before whoever is behind it gives up and knocks, you all look at each other slightly confused before Eddie takes the plunge and goes to answer. You’re standing behind the counter with a guarded expression, not prepared for whatever crazy was trying to get in at stupid o’clock in the morning.

Steve is standing behind the open door with an apologetic smile, holding up a takeaway cup obviously bought for you. Eddie is less than thrilled, skulking back into the kitchen with the most horrendous scowl plastered on his face.

“I’m sorry.. I should’ve text first,” kicking the door shut behind him, offering out the warm cup for you to take.

You breathe a sigh of relief, “yeah.. that would’ve been a good idea, thank you though,” gladly taking his offering.

“I just wanted to say thank you for last night, I didn’t catch you before I left so thought I’d stop by,” sipping on his own coffee, poised in the middle of the restaurant floor.

Eddie’s stood leaning against the wall that separates the kitchen from the front of house, arms crossed against his chest. Disapproving glare set solidly on Steve.

“Yeah absolutely, I’m glad you liked it,” smiling fondly at the man, sipping appreciatively on your cappuccino.

“I uh- I have a question for you,” his eyes flit to Eddie who was still stood with his eyes narrowed, scowling, “in private.. if that’s alright?”

You spin to look at Eddie, nodding towards the back, “I’ll meet you in my office in a minute,” shooing him off, “please.”

He snarls back at you, looking back over his shoulder to shoot daggers into Steve before eventually disappearing into the kitchen. For someone acting so jealous, you’d think you’d have been in a committed relationship for years.

Rolling your eyes as you trundle closer to Steve, “ignore him.”

“He a handful?”

“Mm and a mouthful sometimes,” perching on one of the tables, totally oblivious to your innuendo.

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead, blinking ferociously as you finally catch on.

“Oh no- I just meant he’s like.. rude,” stumbling over your words, cheeks beginning to burn.

“I know what you meant,” Steve assures, though he looked a little flustered himself.

Your eyes squeeze shut, “just continue,” rolling your hand, desperate for him to forget you’d opened your mouth.

He clears his throat, “so I was talking to my buddy.. he owns Garson’s in the city and he was saying there’s a spot opening for a sous,” glancing at you, “I just mentioned your name and I’ll give you his number but he said he’d love to meet you,” his mouth twitching into a smile.

Well, that was not at all what you were expecting.

In fact, it was a massive curveball ball that you’d not rehearsed a response to.

Garson’s was insane, they’d just earned their first star and everybody who was anybody was trying to get a reservation. It would be career defining to even stage there.

“Oh wow… Steve I actually don’t know how to reply to that,” placing your coffee onto the table in fear of dropping it on the floor.

“Well obviously think about it, I’ll text you his details later, he seemed pretty eager to get someone in so.. don’t take too long,” drumming his fingers onto the table.

“Yeah.. right, holy shit,” you remark, trying to take it all in. It’s unclear what to even say to him in this situation, thank you seemed too small but slathering his face in kisses was probably a step too far.

“I gotta go, let me know what you decide,” his smile honest and genuine as he grabs his coffee and heads to the door.

Just before he slips out, you jump back into action, “thank you!” beaming with pure unadulterated joy.

He nods, disappearing into the street as the door slams shut behind him.

You can barely contain yourself, practically skipping through the kitchen to go and find Eddie who you were absolutely certain was not going to share the same level of excitement you possessed.

“What’s got you so happy? He ask you out on a real date finally?” turning up his nose without you saying a word.

“Noo..” you chime in, still riding the high, kicking the door shut behind you, traipsing over to rest your hands on Eddie’s shoulders, “so.. Steve said there’s a position going in Garson’s and it’s basically mine if I want it..” struggling to contain your grin.

His hands falter, brushing down your sides to now hang limp beside him, “what?” Unsure if what he had heard had been correct.

“There’s a job at Garson’s and it’s basically mine.. isn’t that great?” grabbing at the back of his neck. You were expecting a little more happiness than this, you can’t lie.

He looks almost offended. Features screwed up in pure confusion, as if you’d insulted his mother. “So you’re leaving? Some fancy job pops up from your fancy pants boyfriend and you’re suddenly abandoning us?”

“Wha- no? I’m not abandoning anybody,” removing your arms from his shoulder, “this is an opportunity to actually do something with my career, show everyone what I’m capable of,” you couldn’t understand why he couldn’t just pretend to be happy for you.

He stands up, the chair making a god-awful noise behind him, “so you get to come in here, change everything and then jump ship as soon as something better comes along?” eyes that once looked at you with pure adoration now full of disgust.

You’re gobsmacked. Utterly speechless that he was acting like such a petulant jerk. You hadn’t seen this side of him since that night so many months ago in this very office.

“Eddie, what has got into you? This is good news! You didn’t expect me to stay here forever, did you?”

“I don’t know,” exasperated, “I just didn’t expect you to run to the next best thing so soon,” he looks venomous, mean.

“I’m not! He’s my friend and he’s helping me out.. why are you being like this?” he may as well have torn your heart from your chest and stomped on it in front of you.

Eddie scoffs, running a hand over his mouth, “your friend… who you haven’t spoken to in years suddenly has this great new job for you and has absolutely no ulterior motive? Ha, right.”

It finally clicks in your brain, he doesn’t really give a shit whether you stay or go. This was about hating Steve and being a jealous loser despite still not asking you to be his girlfriend.

“That’s what this is about? You think Steve.. what? That he wants to fuck me? You’re pathetic, do you know that?”

“It’s not about that,” raising his voice, chest puffed out. This was the Eddie you’d met and hated six months ago. You were sure you’d never have to deal with that prick again. “I don’t.. I don’t care what or who you do, I just think you’re a traitor and I don’t want anything to do with someone like that.”

Your face falls, blinking rapidly as the tears prick in your eyes. Swallowing the growing lump in your throat. He could be an evil prick when he wanted to be and before, it never would’ve upset you this much. But now it felt personal, like you’d let him in only for him to use everything you’d told him against you.

“Get out,” bottom lip quivering, tears threatening to spill. You wouldn’t give him that satisfaction at least, waiting until the door is slammed in your face to let them fall.

Humiliated and utterly pathetic as you flop into the chair, letting the tears fall free.

If he was trying to convince you to stay, then he’d failed. Majorly.

You’re hidden in the office for the remainder of the day. Courtesy of Eddie’s horrible words.

And he’s just a ray of sunshine in the kitchen. Clattering about as he drops pans, recklessly launching knives and utensils onto the counter.

Marcus has had enough of his tantrum, tapping on his shoulder, “let’s get some fresh air, yeah?” steering Eddie towards the back alley.

He slides down the brick wall, cigarette poised between his lips while Marcus mouths something to the rest of the beady eyed staff.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Marcus asks, he’s genuine but stern. Has talked the boy down a multitude of times but this seemed different.

“She’s fucking leaving..” blowing the smoke from the side of his mouth, “some stuck up restaurant that dickhead Steve got her into.. that’s what’s wrong with me.”

Marcus’ mouth opens but doesn’t speak, deciding to get down to Eddie’s level, perching next to him on the floor, “and why’s that made you so angry? She break up with you as well or somethin’?” struggling to understand why he cares so much.

“No,” Eddie glowers at the floor, “you can’t break up if you’re not together. I’m just.. I’m pissed off, she came in here.. changed everything and now she gets to just move on like it’s nothing.”

Poor Marcus is trying to piece it all together in his head. Settling on the only sensible conclusion that maybe whatever was going on between you and him was perhaps a hell of a lot deeper than either of you were admitting.

“So.. you’re pissed that she made this shithole better? You sure that’s it?” questioning the validity of Eddie’s anger.

“What’re you tryna say?” Eddie snaps, gritting his teeth together. How dare Marcus not believe his incredibly flimsy words?

“That you’re not really angry ‘cause she’s moving on, you’re pissed because of this new guy and you think he’s.. he’s gonna take your spot or something? I can see right through you bro,” clapping his hand emphatically on Eddie’s shoulder, having caught him red handed.

Eddie glares at the man, snarling but unable to respond. Because he was right. Eddie is a pathetic, insecure loser who can’t bring himself to just admit to you that he was jealous of Steve. It was easier for him to just make you hate him than to be honest with you about how he felt, at least that way you didn’t have the opportunity to shut him down. You couldn’t reject him if you didn’t know.

“You’re gonna fuck this up forever if you keep acting like this,” Marcus sighs, getting up from the floor, “get in there and apologise or you’ll just push her right into his arms and I really don’t wanna deal with you if that happens,” flashing him a stern but well-meaning glare before disappearing back into the kitchen.

His eyes squeeze shut, and as much as he didn’t want to hear that, he knew he was right. Self-sabotage had always been his forte except this time he was truly terrified of the possibility of losing you. And he wasn’t going to let that happen.

There’s a quiet knock on your office door and you’re just about prepared to bite the head off of whoever dares to disturb you.

“Come in,” you bark, dropping the pen onto the desk in frustration.

A very meek Eddie peeks around the door, testing the waters to decide if it’s safe to fully come in without you throwing something at him.

Nothing collides with his head so he pushes the door open, holding onto a plate of pasta he’d made especially for you. He’s chewing on his bottom lip, still deciding on the right words to say.

“You haven’t eaten all day..” he decides on, gingerly placing the plate in front of you on the desk, “you don’t have to eat it but don’t throw it away,” stepping back from the desk with extreme caution.

You’re taken aback, not at all expecting the kind gesture, blinking at the delicious food in front of you. “Can I have a fork..?”

“Shit yes I got one,” digging in his apron pocket for the utensil, laying it down next to the plate gently.

“Thank you,” you nod, poking your fork into the food. It is delicious and it was still warm which is an even better bonus.

He smiles slightly, “I wanted to say.. I’m sorry for being an asshole, you should..” trailing off into silence, swallowing the lump in his throat, “you should go for it, it’s a great opportunity,” reassuring himself even if he didn’t quite believe it.

You chew slowly, apprehensive about his sudden change in attitude. This surely hadn’t been a conclusion he’d reached on his own and you wonder just who in the kitchen had given him a pep talk before sending him in here. You appreciated it nonetheless. As weird and complicated as you guys were, you weren’t quite ready to give it up already.

“Really?” you look up, trying to gauge his reaction. It was evident that he was putting on a brave front and he still had some apprehensions about it all but for you he was willing to ignore them.

Your heart swells. Which makes you feel a little sick. In a good way though, well, you think so anyway.

“Yeah.. you’re a great chef and you deserve better than this shithole,” one side of his mouth twisting into a smile. The words are heavy and difficult to get out, but they’re true. He means it and would really do anything to ensure you were happy. Even if it did mean swallowing his pride and letting you follow that douchebag Steve.

You stand from your chair, rushing over to wrap your arms around his neck. “Thank you..” resting your chin on his shoulder. His arms wrap around your waist, placing a soft kiss upon your forehead.

He was going to miss these little moments the most, he thinks. Shaking his head slightly when his mind flits to the thought of you in some other kitchen doing this with someone other than him.

“You want some food? Don’t wanna eat this whole thing myself,” pulling away from his grip, motioning back towards your desk.

“Thought you’d never ask,” masking the ache in his heart with a sloppy grin.

If his uncle had taught him anything, it was that you had to make sacrifices for the people you loved. Or thought you loved. Whatever.

It doesn’t take long for Steve to show his stupid little face again and it irks Eddie to know that you were probably texting with him this entire time. Getting excited about this new position with another man. Blergh. It was knocking him sick.

You look over Steve’s shoulder to give Eddie a small glance, smiling ever so tenderly as you disappear into your office. That should be enough confirmation that he truly had nothing to worry about. It was just a job. Oh God, what if you find someone else to bicker with? Look what had happened to you two.

That sicky feeling returns and he wants to bolt. But he doesn’t, he’s big and brave and instead chooses to focus on finely dicing some onions until you reemerge from your office. Whenever the fuck that would be.

It must be a whole half an hour before Steve walks through the kitchen, giving Eddie a sly pat on the back on the way out. Smug prick. He just grips the knife tighter, waiting for you to confirm that you’d be gone next week and that he should really start moving on before you left.

“Ed’s can I talk to you outside?” your voice snaps him out of his pity party, giving the rest of the crew what looked like a sympathetic smile, you’d tell all of them the bad news later.

He knew this was it. You were about to lay it all bare, tell him it’s okay, maybe we can still be friends? I hope you understand but I have to go and work at this fancy restaurant with my fancy high school boyfriend, sorry!

Reluctantly walking into the alley way, the alley way you’d shared many sneaky kisses, reassuring words and that one time you’d got carried away and almost gave him a hand job right then and there. It was painful, the once comforting aura of the brick walls had since vanished.

He’s already bracing for the worst, keeping his back to you as he walks further down the path. It’s the only way he could be sure that he wouldn’t end up begging on his knees for you to stay. And even then he couldn’t guarantee that wouldn’t happen.

“Will you look at me?” your voice echoing through his veins.

He does, turning on his heel excruciatingly slow. Bottom lip starting to sting as his teeth cut into the skin.

“When are you going?” solemn and miserable, honestly trying his hardest not to start pleading with you.

“Never,” shaking your head, “I’m staying here,” feeling incredibly smug. You looked it too, nose scrunched up as you grin at him.

Fuck. He’s not even sure if he’s heard that right. But the blood rushes back through his body and he almost crumbles, falling to his knees to thank whichever being up there had answered his prayers. The glum look he’d seemed to possess had vanished, grinning like a fucking maniac as he bounds over to you. One minute you’re on the floor and the next you’re being spun around, his arms almost crushing you.

“What? Why’d you change your mind? I- fuck I’m so happy,” setting you back on solid ground, much to your relief.

“Well, the thing is.. there’s this guy who works here, he’s a bit of an asshole but for some reason I really like him and he’s convinced me to stay,” fingers digging into his biceps, still afraid that you might become airborne at any moment.

There’s not time to catch your breath before he’s crashing his lips into yours with great force, sending you flying backwards against the wall. His hands grabbing at anything he could touch, travelling the length of your body to brace your cheeks. Keeping you steady, making sure this was actually real. Christ, he thinks he loves you.

Scrap that, he’s fucking certain that he loves you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic

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bandgie · 9 months

Text

Predator & Prey

a/n: chapter 3!

warnings!: smut, over stimulation

5.8k words

They're a nice family. The husband, whose name is Sammuel, works as a lumberjack. He's a quiet man, but you can tell he's more than helpful around the house as he helps his wife cook dinner. The boys continue roughhousing despite their mom's warnings. All that's left is meeting Abigail, you can tell the mom is anxious for you to meet her.

You softly knock on her door, waiting until you hear a soft yes? from the inside. The room was covered in books. Shelves overfilling with scriptures and littered all over the floor. She picks her head up from the book in her hands, eyes meeting yours.

"Oh," is the first thing she says, "You must be helping my mom with the bar downstairs." "Yes, and you must be Abigail?" You ask.

She stands and walks over to you, closing the door behind you, "That is right."

Abigail sees the way your eyes look over the books. Some in English, some in words you've never seen before. Some look like they're old, as if they've never seen the light of day. You can feel her eyes peering at you, so you snap your eyes to her.

"Watcha reading there?" You point to the opened book on her bed.

An unsettling smile finds her lips, "Come, I'll show you."

You carefully walk to her bed, trying not to step on any of the books before you sit on her bed. She lifts the book and shows you the title "Can you read this?"

You shake your head, it's in a language you're unfamiliar with. "No. What does it say?"

She laughs, almost maniacally, "How to summon demons. Do you believe in such things?"

You look into her eyes, trying not to show how freaked out you were. "Not really," you confess. "I don't think spirits or ghost are a thing. People's imagination are just too creative."

You expect her to be upset at your response, but she seems excited. "Most people would say the same thing, but I know they exist. I've seen them."

Your eyebrows quirk up, you shouldn't be encouraging this conversation, but it would be a lie to say you weren't interested. "Have you?" She nods eagerly, "Yes! Listen closely. I was in this very room, reading when I saw a winged beast. It has feathers dark as night, feet like an ox's, claws like talons. It did not see me, but I watched as it stole one of the neighbors daughter in her deep slumber. They have yet to find her body, but I believe I know what happened to it."

A shiver goes up your spine, you did not think it would involve a kidnapping and possible murder. Feet like an ox? That's not Nyryx, though it's proof that there is more of his species.

"Incubi usually sleep with women while they slumber. However," she reaches for one the books on the ground, opening it and flipping to a page. She aggressively places the book on the ground, this one in English. It shows depiction of what an incubi is with written description.

"There are times when an incubus favors a female human. They'll steal her in the night and keep her until she dies of old age. That, or until they get tired of her."

Despite such a horrid tale, Abigail squirms in excitement. You eye the drawn depiction, trying to make sense of it. The pale skin, the black wings, the animal-like legs. It matches Nyryx perfectly. Why would be drink animal blood then? It clear that he needs something else, why is he allowing himself to eat the bare minimum?

"All they eat is a woman's cum?" you question. Abigail erupts in laughter, clutching her stomach. "You are so crude! I think we will get along." She wipes her tears and scans the writing, "Human life force is a main meal for them. They can survive on any life force, but straight from a human is the best source. Blood is a vital need for them to survive. It is like how water is to us. The essence of a woman, however, gives quenches their thirst for blood and gives them the power to use their energy."

The puzzle pieces started to fall in place. It should have been obvious from when you were being chased from the townspeople days earlier and what they called him. How upset Nyryx got when you called him an incubus. Still, wrapping your head around the fact that he's a demon is difficult. A different species that can do magic? Sure. But a demon? A creature from actual hell?

"So they're from hell? Demonic beings?" You voice shakes. Abigail looks back at the book, flipping through a few pages. "Not straight from the underworld, no. A woman is cursed to bare the child of Satan. The child born is a succubus or incubus, half human and half demon." She continues reading, fingers moving across the page. "It's possible that an incubus can be a full demon though. They go though a transformation from feasting on the blood of 666 children and stealing the essence of their own mother," Abigail actually grimaces for the first time, "Or some are straight from hell itself, created by Satan. These are a rarity though, I don't think we should worry about such things."

You breathe a little easier, Nyryx was born this way. He can't help who his father is, but the uneasiness in your stomach doesn't settle.

Abigail taps your shoulder and you look up at her in response. "Can I confess something?" She asks. You hesitantly nod, worried about what she's going to say.

"I have dreamed of being paid a visit by an incubus in my sleep. I cannot deny the excitement that courses through me at the possibility of it. It's why I learn to summon them. Have a demon please me at my will, take me as I desire." She pauses and looks at you, examining your expression. You do little to hide the confusion on your face, uneasiness settling on your features.

She laughs awkwardly, "I am aware of my revolting fantasies. Yet, I cannot help myself from imagining. Even if it's once, I would give anything for the experience. Even my soul." She waits for you response, and although you're a little repulsed by her kink, an idea pops in your head.

"Are you sure this is what you want? You want a demon to ravage you like you're a piece of meat?" You ask, making sure of her choice. She looks at you giddily, as is you understand her wants. "Yes. I am no maiden, if I'm being truthful, and I would love to believe an incubus can use me to its will. Am I a whore for admitting such things?"

You're all for body positivity and safe hook-up culture. But fucking a demon? You have to draw a line somewhere. "I don't think you're any less valuable as a person because you sleep around," you tell her. "People have fantasies, that's normal. But uh, honestly this is the first time I've heard this. I would just tell you to be careful what you wish for. And don't conjure things up, you never know what's on the other side."

She nods at your response, taking in your advice. "I suppose you are right. Demons are tricky creatures, they could do something I am opposed to." She shakes her head hands grasping at yours. She looks back you with curiosity in her eyes, "Tell me! Do you have any perverted fantasies?"

You softly laugh at her curiosity. It's been a while since you've talked to your friends back at home and the stories of your hook ups. You hum, pondering on what you've always wanted most.

"I guess I've always wanted to try a role-play. Me the inmate and other person the cop. But I can always settle for them eating me out," you share your confession. Before Abigail has time to question what you mean by 'role playing' and 'eating out,' there's a knock at the door.

"Girls? Supper is prepared," Meredith pokes her head in. Her daughter gives her a nod and stands off the bed, "We will be there soon." Abigail looks at you expectingly.

"Yeah I'd love to eat. I just gotta stop by somewhere real quick. I'll be back," you tell the both of them. Meredith smiles and nods, "No worries dear! I'll keep the food warm for you."

You give her a thanks and make your way out of Abigail's room, leaving the upper housed home and going though the loud bar. You shiver at the burst of cold air, you were so used to the warmth already. You grab your coat to secure it around your shoulder better before making your way to the woods, the sun starting to set behind the trees.

Once you think you're deep enough in, you lift your head up to look for Nyryx. It's a little hard to see with the incoming darkness and cluster of trees, but you can make out the outline of his wings and the swishing of his tail.

"Nyryx!" you call. "I have some news!"

He comes down from the trees, standing at his full height in front of you. You drink in his sight, Abigail's previous words getting to you. What would it be like? He's so much bigger than you or any man you've been with, would it hurt?

He folds his arms across his chest, talons hanging out, "Prey, I do not have the patience for your lack of words. What do you have to share?"

You snap back to reality, finding the words you need to say. "You need life force right? Well, I think it would've been better if you specified what type of life force you needed. I met this chick who had these books and the talked about in-...your species, I mean. And I learned a lot about what you are are-"

He's in front of you in a split second, hand grasping your face so your cheeks are squished together.

"What I am?" He spits. "You know nothing of me, or what I need. You hear stories from a human about my species and you think you know what it is I need? Pry, tell me that, what is it that I am?"

You stiffen in his grasp, your fingers curling around his wrists. His hold loosens on you, but he does not let go of yourself. You stare into his black eyes, anger and hurt seem to be there.

"Do you fear me?" He suddenly asks voice quiet. He locks his eyes onto you, looking for any indication of what you might say or think.

"I..." you trail off. "I'm not scared of you." He growls, unhappy with you response. "I mean, you're scaring me now, if that's what you mean. But it's not cuz you're a..."

"An incubus," he finishes, voice tight and irritated.

"Yes," you breathe, "not because you're that. I just happened to come across someone very knowledgeable in that stuff. I want to help you, Nyryx, I really do. But..." your eyes water. You hate to admit it, but you're starting to grow fond of the half-demon in front of you. It's clear he is not happy with what he is. You wish he knew that he is more than a half demon.

"Prey," his nickname calls you. "Why do you weep? Am I that horrifying?"

You shake your head, sniffing and laughing softly. "No. I just...I just want to help you. You're not eating right and I don't understand why. I don't like it when you're upset, and I said I have good news."

You tears fall softly, and you let him lick them off. His big tongue taking them away, the warmth of it makes your legs press together. He pulls away for a second before leaning in close again, this time his lips touching your eyes and cheeks. His other snake-like tongue pokes out, ghosting your lips. You gasp at the feeling, this was more than eating your tears. He was tasing you.

When he pulls away, his hands gently travel down, gripping your throat. "Don't keep this good news to yourself. Indulge me."

You blink a few times, getting a grip of your common sense. "I think I know someone who would let you do you thing at night. You could eat properly, get energy faster." He smiles widely at you, it's almost unsettling to see his sharp canines.

His talons play with your hair, "Do you?"

You nod, but for some reason they way he's looking at you is predatory. "Her name is Abigail." His smile falls. He releases you from his hold and scrunches his nose as though he smelled something foul. "I am not interested in taking advantage of women while they sleep."

"No!" you protest, "Let me explain!"

You tell Nyryx about Abigail's fascination with demons, her fantasies. He is stubborn at first, unwilling to listen further more. Yet, you persist. It's an easy cash grab. And you'll be there for more than one night. It's a perfect opportunity to store up his energy and stay satisfied until the full moon. You show him the bar, pointing to which window is her's.

"It's not even bad," you tell Nyryx, who is still hesitant on the idea. "She'll be into it. If not, you can just leave and we'll come up with a plan b, okay?"

When he finally agrees you show him how to high five. You're happy that you're taking another step closer to getting home, but a weird pit in your chest aches as you picture what is going to happen tonight.

You lay in the guest room, stretching your limbs out on the bed. A satisfied groan leaves you. You ate a big dinner and have a bed to sleep on? God has shown mercy on you.

Your room is small, but you're grateful. You have a single window that gives you a perfect view of the moon. You've always loved scenery, it's why you were standing at the beach in the first place. Your memories are cut short when you see a familiar flying beast go by. You sit up, ears straining to hear any sound of Nyryx or Abigail.

Her room is right next to yours, it shouldn't be hard to hear anything. It's not, you could hear the gentle steps of Nyryx's feet, the creaking steps adjusting to his weight. You should lay back down, mind your business, but you're so curious. And a little turned on.

You could hear the soft creaking of Abigail's bed, you nearly squeal in anticipation. Both of your windows are open, so you could hear pretty good even if the walls were soundproof.

You feel you stomach grow hot, your pussy getting wet. Man, you're such a pervert. But it doesn't stop you from hearing Nyryx shift on the bed. You put your back against the headboard and open your legs. It's different for the demon. He's literally designed to fuck women in the most controversial way possible. You though? You're doing this on your own free will. That makes it just a little worse.

You wonder what he's doing now. Is he going to wake her up? Is he going to fuck her with her clothes on? Will be just put it in? Or take his time?

You hand dips through your underwear, touching your warm folds. You keep quiet, softly rubbing your lower lips and spreading your wetness. You could hear Abigail toss and turn in her bed, humming softly. You imagine his touching her how you're touching yourself. He's getting her wet, prepared for what he's going to do.

You push a finger into yourself, biting your lower lip to keep yourself quiet. You slowly finger fuck yourself, staring outside the window. You haven't been with anyone recently, and this whole fiasco with being in another world had you stressed. It feels nice to allow yourself pleasure, relaxing into your own body.

You don't hear any moaning though, you suppose Nyryx does prefer to take his time. Or maybe he's stroking himself. You close your eyes and imagine it. You assume his dick would be the same color as his pale skin, but what about his tip? Maybe a bright red like a cherry on top. Or maybe a dark grey. The thought excites you.

You wonder how thick it could be. Hopefully you could wrap your hand around it, pleasuring him. You stick a second finger inside, a quiet whimper falls. past your lips. You imagine how it must feel to have Nyryx inside you, how warm it would be. You lift your shirt up to have your fingers play with your nipples. They harden immediately from the cold air.

You thrust your fingers in and out, thumb gently touching your clit. You hum, trying your best to keep your voice down. You hear the bed from Abigail's room move a little rough, he must be fucking her by now. But god, do you wish it was you. You wished you could feel how hard he is, how rough he would be with you and lick your tears away.

You thrusting harder, the squelching on your pussy getting slightly louder. You let your moans slip, making sure they're barely audible. You need more though, you want to feel it deep in your gut. You fingers are soaked in your juices and your knuckle deep, but you want more. Need more.

A gust of strong wind makes you shoot your eyes open, and you're staring into Nyryx's pitch black eyes. Your bed dips from his weight, and you jump at his presence. You were about to ask what he's doing before you become painfully aware of how deep your fingers are in you, how your chest is completely exposed.

You yank your fingers out of your pussy, a string of wetness connecting to your fingers. Your face burns with embarrassment, you were caught in literally the worst way possible. He remains quiet, face impossibly close to yours.

He reaches down one of his hands and grabs your hand that was inside of you. He places your fingers in his mouth, groaning at the taste. "What are you..." you start, feeling the warmth of his mouth.

Nyryx takes your fingers out of his mouth, "I should be asking you that no? I arrive to do my thing and all I can hear is how delightful you sound, how delectable you smell. You tempt me with your taste, prey."

"I was going to pay it no mind," he informs you, slowly going down against your neck to your chest. "I found it unbelievable at the thought of your desire aimed at me. Yet, I could hear your pathetic fantasies loud in my mind. Your craving for a demon like me."

He takes a nipple in his mouth, tongue sliding messily across your breast. You grip the back of his head softly, pushing him closer to your body. Your other hand covers your mouth, suppressing your moans. When you peer down at him, you notice two horns onto his head. Those are new.

"Did that book tell you about my abilities? How I can feel the pooling desire from the women I take?" He asks. You shake your head in response, not trusting your voice. He smile with your bud in his mouth. "During the time of arousal, I can sense the human female's wants, so I may get the most of life force she can spare me. The other woman was responsive yes." He pauses, lifting his head up to meet your eyes. He kisses your nose, your cheek, then gives a peck of your lips. You hiss in a breath, feeling the wetness between your legs unbearable.

His teeth nip at your earlobe before he gently whispers in your ear, "You though, you overpowered any feeling she was producing. Your need for me was impossible to push away." His lips travelled down you neck, your chest, you stomach, finally to wear you were aching. Your breath hitched in your throat as you opened your legs wider.

"I'm sorry," was all you could manage. You disturbed his mission, but he seems quite happy about it to be honest. "I'm a pervert I know. I just couldn't help myself."

He laughs at your apology and excuse, sliding your underwear down your leg to hang off one of your ankles. "Do not give me your apologies, prey. Give me your desires."

He plants a kiss on your clit, one hand reaches up playing with your nipple while the other steadies himself at you waist. Maybe you'll both regret this in the morning, but with how much your pussy is pulsating you don't care for the consequences.

Nyryx relishes in your taste, as if he hasn't eaten a good meal in ages. Which is mostly likely true. He licks to collect your juices, holding the flavor on his tongue as he groans, "Fuck the heavens above, you are my salvation."

He pushes his face further into you, not caring about how your hands found purchase in his hair. You moaned as Nyryx sucked on your clit, teeth gently grazing your folds. He experimentally let his lips graze your pussy, placing kissing on your wetness.

It was comforting, feeling the man-beast care for every part of your skin. Nyryx was more than ecstatic to please you, it was obvious by the swishing of hit tail and the twitch in his wings. Your curious eyes caught onto his horns. Not huge, but they were definitely not there before. Maybe they come out when he's like this, you think.

You hummed in approval as his tongue went up and down your cunt, wet noises echoed in the room. Your moved one of your hands from his hair to touch his horn, gently sliding your fingertips against it. He halted for a moment, black eyes flicking up to your aroused ones.

"Do they fascinate you?" He asks in a low tone. He doesn't bother to stop his mouth from eating you, but he keeps his orbs on yours waiting for an answer.

"Yes," you breathe, resisting your moans to speak properly. "I want to touch them."

He laughs at your response making your body vibrate. "You have my permission, prey," he smiles. "I suggest you don't touch harshly, they are quite sensitive."

You grasp one of his horns in your grip, gasping at how slick it is. Almost as though it was dipped in oils to leave it smooth. You stroke it gently, amused by the lewd sounds it makes. Nyryx softly moans at your touch, his tongue getting more brave to dip into your entrance.

When you pulled your hands away from his horn, a string of wetness hung from your fingers. You brought your hand to your lips and licked, curious as to what it tasted like, You could feel Nyryx's eyes on your movements, his smile on your pussy as you gulped. It tasted sickly sweet, slightly salty, but the most noticeable part was the burn.

Not like spice, but like fire. It traveled from your throat to the depths of your stomach. You made a strange sound as it burned, mouth hanging opening as you craved more of the substance. Before you had the chance to shove your fingers in your mouth, you felt unbelievably hot. You felt how much you gushed out onto Nyryx's tongue and how lonely your throat felt. The sudden crave to have his cock deep in your mouth was almost unbearable.

Nyryx laughed almost manically at your behavior. He happily gulped your excess of essence and gave you one more lick before leaning forward to your face. His eyes searched your expression, noting the blush in your cheeks and the swell of your lips. He smiled.

"Is it here?" Nyryx's voice was teasing. His clawed hand gripped your throat softly, running it up and down you neck. "Are you burning here?"

You nodded immediately, a pathetic whimper left your lips. "Please," you begged, "Kiss me."

One of his eyebrows quirked up, he hadn't expected you to say that. He quickly put his playful smirk on and leaned in close, "Only because you asked so pleasantly."

His lips met yours, they were hot and drowned in the taste of your pussy which you more than happy to taste with him. He smiled when you slipped your tongue inside his mouth. Nyryx's hands slipped to your waist and pulled you close, opening with mouth wider. You felt the smoothness of his tongue, your pussy throbbed at how much it missed his soft muscle.

Nyryx suddenly shoved his tongue deep into your throat, not caring about the drool that pooled out of your mouth and his. You moaned, greedily sucking on his tongue and your hands gripped the back of his head.

Deeper, you wanted him deeper inside you. The burn and itch was not satisfied, you needed more.

You pulled away from him despite your body yearning for his lips. His eyes opened to yours curiously, head cocked to the side. Your hands traveled down his back, feeling his smooth grey skin and black wings. He shivered at your touch, eyes closing for a brief second.

Your hands went around to feel his chest, giving a playful pinch at his nipple. His eyes hot back open and he look surprised at your gesture, but wasn't displeased. Yours hands kept going down until you met the waistband of his trousers. You slipped your hand under, but Nyryx was quick to grab your wrist.

"I understand my aphrodisiacs got you excited, but refrain from taking charge. I do not like to be challenged," though his smile was flirtatious, he tone was dead set. You nodded, ignoring the aphrodisiacs he said you ingested.

He moved back so he had room to yank you down fully on the bed by your hips. You laid flat, excitement pooling in your stomach as his eyes took in your form hungrily. You would've squirmed by someone staring at you so intensely, but all you could think about was how much he was going to stretch you out.

Nyryx lifted your shirt above your head, discarding it quickly until you were completely nude underneath him. He followed suit, throwing his trousers off to spring his hard cock free. Your eyes travelled down and your jaw dropped. You legs closed instinctively, that won't fit.

You took in his dark cock, matching his grey tone. His tip was slightly darker, a contrast to the white pre-cum that was seeping out. If it wasn't his color that surprised you, it had to be his girth. The thickness made you salivate, you've never seen a dick so heavy.

You swallowed thickly, eyes peering back to his. Nyryx seemed pleased, taking delight in your surprise. "Do not be fearful," he says calmly, as if he's gone through this before. "I may be half demon, but I am not so cruel to not give you pleasure on my cock."

You let out a breath and bit your lower lip. It's been a while, can you really fit him? Still, you reopened your legs, holding them by the under thighs. He smiled, flashing his sharp teeth, "Good girl."

He grabbed his cock and slid it against your cunt, smearing both of your arousal all over. You whimpered, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt his warmth spread. You could feel the veins of his cock, the tip he ever so carefully ran on your pussy. You could feel his grip tighten on your waist as he hissed a breath in.

He humped you for a while, loving how you writhed and begged for him to shove his dick inside. His tail wrapped around your ankle, pulling your leg a little more open. You felt him adjust on his knees, poking his tip inside of you. Your body clenched immediately to slip him in, but to no avail. Nyryx only laughed at you pathetic attempts.

"Please," you cried, still keeping your voice into a needy whisper. "Nyryx I need it, it hurts." "Aww," he coos, leaning down to cup your face. "Is my little human going mad?"

You felt your heart clench, my little human. It was most likely bedroom talk, but it didn't stop the deepening blush in your cheeks. Rather than answering, you cried. Tears falling down your face like you had been cursed at. Nyryx leaned down and licked your tears, humming at your saltiness.

"Forgive me, prey. I have a bad habit of playing with my food," Nyryx apologizes. He places a tender kiss to your lips before sitting back up, this time with determination.

He grabbed the base of his cock and lined it up with you as he used his other hand to steady at your waist. You lifted your hips up at his movements, trying to find a position that would have it slip in the easiest.

Nyryx pushed forward, his tip going in easily. Your mouth fell open when he went deeper, pussy clenching around his thickness. You whimpered, but the pain was still pleasurable. The half-demon was careful though, grabbing a pillow from behind you to place under your hips.

He reached up to stroke his horn for a moment and used the same hand to stroke his cock, most likely to lube his dick up so it could continue sliding in with ease. It worked, finally settling deep into your cunt like it was always meant to be there.

You loudly cried out, forgetting where you were for a moment. It hurt so good, you spread legs more so he could shuffle closer to your body. He softly thrusted once, your while body moving with him. You moaned, the burn deep inside your belly was finally being snuffed out.

You reached up to bring him down to your lips, kissing him carelessly. He moaned into your mouth, moving his hips deeply inside you. You cried pleasurably into his mouth, loving how he stretched you. You studied his face to see he was screwing his eyes shut. It was like he was focusing.

Nyryx was focusing, it took so much control to not abuse your pussy. You were so warm, tight, so inviting to him that he this was more than just a meal. Sure, he's been hungry for this moment in general, but you made him want to indulge in his own dark desires. Taking you rough, yanking your hair as he took you behind. This though, he was content was seeing your face twist in pleasure. Maybe next time he'll take you how he wants to.

A particular thrust made you moan loudly, bringing him back to this moment. You grabbed him shoulders as Nyryx thrusted a little more roughly into you. His wing flared out slightly, as though he was suddenly possessive of your body. He sat back up, a bruising grip on your hips as he drove into you.

Don't scream, don't scream. you told yourself. But the way Nyryx was kissing the deepest parts of you proved that it was difficult. He had to silence you by clamping a hand over your mouth. Not that you minded, you enjoyed his manhandling.

The burning thrust of his cock had heat building in your lower stomach. You clenched around him to add more pressure, letting him know you were getting close.

Nyryx groaned at the feel of your tight cunt. "Give it to me, prey. I'm starving."

You were worried about how loud you two were being. The bed was repeatedly hitting the wall, your muffled wails were beginning to get loud, but the loudest was the skin-to-skin clapping. The indecent sounds that it made.

"Oh fuck Nyryx, please don't stop, please," you begged, muffled. The boiling in your stomach was going to spill out, you just need a little...

His hand left your mouth rub on your clit, spreading your juices all over your lower lips. You moaned. The rubbing was almost painful, but it was so desperately needed in order for you to cum.

You covered your own mouth as you came, muting the sounds of elation into your palms. You groaned with every thrust Nyryx pushed into you, fucking you through your orgasm. You could feel your juices drip down and you're sure there was a white ring around his cock. Rather than letting you up, Nyryx pushed unbelievably deeper, tip crushing your cervix as his hand kept playing with your pussy.

"No!" you cried, words slurring. "It's too much!"

Nyryx gave you a wicked grin, his horns leaking with what you think was arousal. "You're going to take it," he commanded. You were sobbing at this point. You were begging to be fucked, but now you were begging for the exact opposite. Though, a strange part of you loved being painfully overstimulated.

He stilled in your hips, moaning like a wounded animal as he came. You felt is gush into you, his warmth spreading inside your stomach. You moaned at his release, finally spared from his tortuous fingers on your clit.

He pulled out quickly, face going down to face your pussy before he stuck his tongue out. You pushed his head away, but his hands were faster. He intertwined your fingers with his own as he ate you out again, collecting your release and his own.

"Nyryx puh-leaseeee," you wailed. You legs were forced open by his tail, holding one of your thighs apart. He ignored your pleas, he actually laughed into your pussy. "You beg so prettily," he pulls away for a moment. "I almost want to listen."

You think he was going to spare you pity, but instead he laps on your abused, puffy clit once more. You became a babbling mess as Nyryx shoved his tongue deep inside you, making sure to get every drop you released. Your body weakly struggles against him, your sensitive clit twitching.

When he finally pulls away, he notices how wet your face had become. He feels a pain in his chest, perhaps he went a little too far this time. He released your hands from his hold and his tail relinquishes your thigh. Your legs immediately close and you wince at the sensitivity of your pussy.

Nyryx moves so he rests besides you, pulling you into his sweaty chest. He kisses the top of your head as you scoot closer to him, eyes feeling droopy. His fingers gently caress your arm, the other underneath you. Even his tail wrap comfortably around the lower part of your leg.

"Apologies, prey," his voice sounds distance, you know you're falling to sleep. "I was famished."

a/n: okay so it's gonna be longer than 4 chapters oops lmao.

#smut #tw monsterfucking #monster fucker #monster fic #monster fun #monster #demon smut #demon oc #dark fic #dead dove fic #dead dove do not eat #chapter 3 #my fic updates #chapter update #predator and prey #demon

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heartfullofleeches · 2 years

Note

Jeremiah and worshipper god looking at eachother from across the street like that picture of the two people looking at eachother in their cars. Even funnier if they have the same darling. One being is an angel hunting god eater who views himself as a savior for humanity, the other a divine being that views you as the greatest thing in existence that is willing to bend reality to your will, just for a portion of your time. Imagine if Jeremiah decided to "adapt his approach" to getting your affection after seeing their tactics work better? Then worshipper god takes it up a notch, and then it becomes an arms race for your love.

It's the worst sight Jeremiah has ever seen. You and that fucking thing together. Even in its human skin he could tell what its true nature was. The only thing worse than it being a divine being was the fact that it choose you as its object of affection or rather worship.

The deity extends its palm to you. It heats with a bright glow, a miniature star forming in the flat of its hand. Even in the daylight the heavenly body's light was brilliant.

"Is it to your liking, my grace? Its luminance is only a factor to the light that surrounds you."

The God closes their hand around it. Smoke bellows from beneath their fingertips as they open it again. The star is now confined in a small glass jar with a sting tied to it. They offer the necklace to you.

"It's beauty can be replicated over and over - a feat created by your night sky, but yours is one that could never be replaced. I pray you accept my humble offering."

"It's gorgeous." You take the necklace and quickly put it on, showing it off with a smile. "How do I look?"

Breathtaking. It makes Jeremiah sick to his stomach how sweet your expression was. Course, you were a being meant to be praised, but he was the only one allowed to do it aside from those who deem him their savior. He was destined to aid humanity and have you by his side. That horrid God probably corrupted your mind to get your attention; buttering you up to make you its loyal follower.

It was the complete opposite. This otherworldly, ethereal being was the one to fall at your feet in worship. It saw you as an absolute power, despite its own able to rewrite reality and law to its whim. That gift was now yours as it gave itself to you fully.

Jeremiah has had enough. The priest storms over to the two of you; standing right between you and it. He flashes a kind smile as he bows in greeting.

"Y/n, my dear, is that you? Your radiance is so bright I nearly went blind. How are you doing today?"

"Hello, Father Jeremiah. I'm well and you?" You glance over at the God, wondering if he had seen any of the events that just occurred. They had reverted to their human form and were now staring daggers into the back of his head.

"Fantastic now that I've seen you. Are you busy at all? I'd like to take you somewhere special this evening."

"Um, well I'm spending time with my... friend behind you at the moment."

Jeremiah glances at them. "You can meet with them at a later date... or maybe never again."

The sky grows dark; the deity's eyes a pure onyx. You can't pick up on the exact energy between the two, but you can tell they despise one another. It probably wold be best to defuse the situation, but your words fall on deaf ears as both offer themselves to you.

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missnancywritesfanfic · 11 months

Text

Desperate To Spite You

Wanderer(Scaramouche) x Reader

Contains: Light Angst, Comfort, Found Family, Established Relationship, Violence

A/N: Scara and Reader have a unique way of communicating <3

You are an incredibly vengeful person. Much to Nahida's dismay and Wanderer's surprise. Despite being aware of your protective tendencies, and even at times your obsessive tendencies, it may go over your head that even though you are an incredibly efficient soldier, you don't take loss well.

The first time Wanderer sees this in action is after you return from an assignment heavily injured. At first he feels rage boiling inside him, who dared harm his partner like this. However, that sentiment is dismissed when you wake up and first thing on your mind was murder.

"Unacceptable." You mutter as a medic inspects you. Your face stuck in a permanent scowl and your eyes suddenly void of light. "How could I failed such a simple task like an idiot."

You'd think that Wanderer wouldn't be bothered by this response, naturally he acts in a similar way. However, over the next few days of your recovery, your mood does not improve in the slightest. After receiving a report that your alleged perpetrator is still on the loose, nothing else mattered but capturing them (in a headlock and choking the life out of them).

You have no interest in your books or maintaining your weaponry, you barely eat properly as instructed, unless Wanderer scolds you. In fact, you spend a majority of your waking hours meticulously marking down your perpetrators weaknesses so that you may best subdue him. It even cuts into your dedicated time with Nahida, which you can imagine, makes the young archon miserable. That's as much as Wanderer can take, he decides to take matters into his own hands and bring in the perpetrator himself.

"I don't need your interference, I can handle it myself!"

"Don't be stupid. You're barely in fit condition to walk a dog. Now quit complaining, you can have your fill once I bring the bastard here."

"But it's my case!"

"And you are my partner. Open your eyes, can't you see you're making a fool of yourself?"

You want to hit him. Punch him. Kick. Scream. All of which you easily could. But you bite down on your lip, your mouth filling with a potent flavor of iron.

You grab the case file and chuck them at Wanderer before stomping out the door. He pinches the bridge of his nose, growling to himself.

"Childish..."

No matter, he'd head out at his leisure. You wouldn't be foolish enough to try and handle this yourself...

Of course you're going to handle this by yourself. You aren't some weakling and even though you won't admit it, whether you lived or died, the feeling of spiting Wanderer does invigorate you to get this job sooner.

Your conscience scolds you for a moment. Trying to saddle your partner with grief over something so trivial, ridiculous.

You aren't being serious. You sincerely doubt you'll die, once this mess is over you'll happily apologize. But until then, your desire to crush a man's legs is much stronger.

But your luck nowadays is horrid.

It's a lone bar just on the edge of the desert, completely packed by the sound of it. The energy shifts the moment you step through the front entrance, everyone's attention settles on you.

A wounded yet ravenous wolf, in a den of hyenas. You already have a grip on your blade and your vision prepped for command. Ten armed individuals. At least three with elemental weapons.

Are the odds in your favor? Not really.

But you're already here. It'd be rude not to ask a few questions.

You duck at the sound of a cocking gun and rush the first person you see hesitate. You have to be quick.

Aim for the muscle and tendons. Cut through the flesh. Break them down from the ankles up. Move fast so that they can never aim true and cripple their allies for you.

Simple execution as always. Or should be, if it weren't for the fact that you're not in top shape. But it's not a huge set back.

A few knicks here and there. Getting slammed into a table and smashed glass on the floor. A close call with a bullet to the shoulder.

But you can do this. You can do this. You can-

The mayhem of the bar is halted due to a sudden crash right behind you. An influx of wind gathered around you before being expelled outward. You didn't have to look up back to know your partner has finally caught up with you.

Your back presses against his, nursing your shoulder.

"I thought I told you I can handle myself."

He scoffs, tilting his hat to properly survey the situation.

"Like I'd listen to your screeching."

Even with one arm indispose, you both make quick work of every fool believing their worth a fight. The rhythym in which you two fight, reading each other's moves and cues. You still pull your weight, push yourself far more than you should, Wanderer notices immediately and makes up for it with his agility and range.

Don't mistake your teamwork for forgiveness. You two are still very much angry at each other, but instead of wasting time hurting each other, why not expend that energy in a more productive way?

You took down the entire bar in record time. Unfortunately for you, your "nemesis" of the week was nowhere to be found with no clues to go on. At least, not until your victims woke up from their concussions.

It didn't take long for the matra to congregate on your location and handle the mess you left. You and Wanderer settled a distance away from the scene.

He inspects your injuries, making sure you haven't aggravated them to the extreme. But chances are you did.

Neither of you say a word.

What could be said?

You already know you made a mistake, and Wanderer didn't have the energy to chastise you. That's what you'd hoped-begged-for this entire matter to fade into obscurity.

"You're lucky I know you so well. Otherwise, I'd have to deliver some terrible news to our Lord Buer."

You silently watch him finish his inspection and turn himself back to the view in the distance. Thugs being rounded up and arrested.

"I won't be there everytime to bail you out. Don't forget, you're not like us."

"I know." You mutter, shame already setting into you again.

Your mortality is an issue you always seem to run into, regardless of how many times Wanderer insists on reminding you. Making it clear every time you are reckless, how weak you are, how fragile the world made you upon conception. Just like every other human.

He shakes his head.

"That's not what I meant."

But of course his words are not complex. They didn't have a secret message hidden in his tone, only in your interpretation. Which fluctuates between the reality of your mortality and the way he expresses worry.

Badly. He expresses it badly.

Defeated, you sigh and finally concede to his worries, "Yeah, I know."

"Can't you say anything else?"

"I'm sorry..."

You hear him sigh again as he removes his hat. Just as you look away, he gently pulls you back into his gaze and caresses your cheek.

He pulls you closer to him and presses his forehead against yours. Another breath that you share, is drawn in and released.

"Do that again, and I'll kill you. Got it?"

You finally crack a smile. For the first time in days. He can feel your warmth again, and you are utterly consumed by his fire.

You must've hallucinated him smiling as you let out a small chuckle. The second your eyes focused in on his expression, his familiar scowl is in full force.

Your smile widens even more.

"How childish..."

(When You Return Home)

"I hope you finally learned your lesson."

You avert your eyes from Nahida. Despite her size, you felt like a child being scolded by their mother. It's not that she had a harsh tone, you genuinely believe she's incapable of such a thing.

But this is an incredibly wise, yet sweet little girl. You'd sooner upset Wanderer than disappoint her. Unfortunately, you manage to do both in a single night.

You glance at your arm now stuck in a cast thanks to Wanderer punching you after a poorly timed joke. Years together and you never learn when to keep your mouth shut. Of course he didn't mean to hurt you so gravely. It's only a sprain.

Tampering with the emotions of an easily disgruntled and teasible god is no joke.

Regardless, Lesser Lord Kusanali was arguably worse.

You heave a sigh, quite possibly the millionth tonight, and kneel in front of your lord. Before you can utter a single apology, you feel her pet the top of your head.

You blink surprised and meet her gaze. Her gentle smile always catches you by surprise.

"You're an invaluable member to Sumeru. So please treat yourself with more care."

You return her smile, heart swelling with pride, and nod.

"I'll do my best."

#reader insert #fluff #romance #genshin impact #genshin scaramouche #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin impact wanderer #genshin wanderer #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #nahida #lesser lord kusanali #genshin buer #angst #violence #comfort

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idontplaytrack · 8 days

Text

My Girl

AJ Campos x fem! reader

Warnings: fluff, some coarse language, making out turned smut.

In which AJ makes a move and officially asks reader to be her girlfriend.

Requested? Yes / No

[Part 2 to Wait For You ]

Spacing is horrid, pls forgive me lol😭 it’s also lengthy bc I didn’t want to split it into another part🫠

Your eyes fluttered open and adjusted to the surroundings. Hit with the initial confusion of not being in your own bedroom, you were quickly snapped out of it when you felt a pair of arms wrapped around you.

“Good morning.” AJ spoke, the sleep still evident in her voice. Pressing a kiss onto your shoulder, she snuggles closer and rested her chin there. You still couldn’t believe you were here with AJ…even after a month of dating later. A smile creeps onto your face as you replied, “Morning.” Even then, the both of you fell back asleep. And when you woke up again, you had your arms around her and were laying on her chest. AJ was combing her fingers through your hair as she had her phone in her hand. You looked up at her, eyes barely open. She realised you were awake, “Hi, sleepyhead.” AJ put her phone down, and smiled at you. “What time is it?”

“A little after nine-thirty.” She answers, her hand now trailing down to your back.

“Oh.”

“Mhm.” AJ confirmed with a small nod, leaning down to kiss you on the head, “Are you okay?”

“Mm, yeah why?”

“You just seem awfully sleepy.” She chuckled.

“It’s Saturday after all.” You responded.

“You would so sleep all day if no one was there to wake you up.” She shifted herself and she was now face to face with you, capturing your lips into her own.

“That is correct.” You giggled, kissing her back, your nearly-nude body softly pressing up against hers. AJ happily carried on kissing you for awhile, cupping your cheek. “Wouldn’t want to start something we can’t finish, would we?” You joked.

“Hey.” She broke away, looking at you in feigned offence, “What was last night then? Need I remind you, we both…finished?”

You snorted a laugh, pulling her back in, “That we did. Thank you, baby.”

AJ’s cheeks began to form a light pink hue, blushing, “And what are we doing now?”

“You? You’re blushing.” You teased, breaking away from the contact briefly. AJ eagerly kisses you again, letting you know all you needed to know.

She’d never done anything like that before last night. And you too, so you were both just taking the time to explore. Teaching each other what to do and what felt good. Especially with no one else home, you and AJ were all the more, relaxed. You were currently on top, straddling her as you held her face in both your hands and kissed her over and over. She reciprocated with the same energy, her hands lazily clung onto your back. But they roamed after awhile, down to your ass and she rests a hand there which she eventually used to massage the muscle. Your lips ventured down along her jaw next and then her neck, now knowing that she had a sensitive spot there that would rile her up a little. A quiet moan falls from her mouth which you’d anticipated so you kept at it for a little bit.

“I want to kiss you, honey.” AJ says while her head involuntarily tilted back as a result of your actions. Her ring-clad fingers brushed through your hair as you continued to kiss and suck at her neck, just enough to elicit those little sounds you’ve quickly grown to love hearing. “Baby, please.” She requests, her voice even softer this time around. You could never say no to this girl. Biting back a grin, you moved yourself back up so she could kiss you like she’d asked. With one of her hands now comfortably in your hair to keep your face from moving away, the other was still trailing up and down between your back and ass- the feeling of her fingertips over the fabric makes you squirm because it tickles. And AJ seems to have figured that out and smoothly slid her hand under the fabric, gently squeezing your ass cheek. You laughed softly into the kiss, but she intermittently kept repeating her actions and resulted in a whine to come out from your mouth. Her teeth grazes your lip and her tongue attempted to slide itself into your mouth like a silent invitation. Which you’d accepted, and then started to do the same. Hearing each other start moaning turned you on as much as it does her.

AJ’s hand on your ass slid to your front, and her other hand that was initially in your hair was now on your upper back. She pulls away from the kiss to search your eyes for approval to do what she was about to do next. A strained incoherent sound and a nod swiftly came from you as you attacked her lips, needing the attention back. And so, her hand dips into your underwear and her fingers began to rub your clit in a slow, steady motion. She carefully bent a knee so you had another form of stimulation available. You instinctively shifted yourself over to that leg of hers and started grinding against it, going along with her actions. Her hand falls to your hip, “You’re so beautiful, honey.” She says, a sweet smile on her face and her eyes filled with so much warmth and love, it made you feel a crazy swarm of butterflies in your chest. Her leg straightens again, worried that you might fall off. You whined, frustrated. AJ remains calm and laid you on your back then joined you, laying down beside you.

————

As your hand clung to her back, you fiddled with the clip on her bra while you asked if you could remove it. She was doing most of the work now and you felt bad about it so…here goes. Holding her peaked pink nipple between your fingers, you gave it a little pinch. She chuckles into the kiss and gave you a nod of approval. You kept at it, alternating between massaging her breast and pinching her nipple. AJ’s fingers on your clit started going harder, with the sole purpose of building up your pleasure. And it worked, you were soon feeling the need to plead for more. But of course, AJ being AJ, she loved giving you whatever you pleased and you didn’t have to even actually ask. AJ just went for it to let you feel good.

Last night’s bit of awkwardness was quickly forgotten as the two of you got more familiar with everything little thing about the other person, until she asks you a completely unexpected question, “Baby…” You broke away from the kiss completely to look at her, “Yeah?”

“Can I…taste you?”

You shot her a look of bewilderment and gulped, chuckling, “Oh- you wanna-”

“Only if you’re okay with it, alright?” She laughs softly, licking her lips, “I don’t want you to say yes just because you feel like you should-”

“It’s fine.” You answered, “We can give that a try.”

“Are you sure?” AJ asks, caressing your cheek as she spoke, her gaze worried.

“Yeah.” You nodded decisively, “I’m sure.”

“Okay.” She smooches you on the lips before making her way down to the juncture between your thighs and slowly pushed your legs open. And my god did you feel vulnerable as hell with her face looking right at your cunt for the first time. You looked down at her at she almost seemed intrigued- she was eager to find out more about what makes you feel good. AJ’s left hand was on your inner thigh and the right was holding her own hair to keep it out of the way as she got closer and closer to the area.

Her tongue flicked your clit gently and you gasped, realising that you liked that. AJ proceeded to do that for a good couple of minutes before trying to lick a stripe up from your entrance to your sensitive nub. You whined, watching her. And when she heard you, she looked up- making eye contact with you. “Does that feel good?” She asks for confirmation. “Yeah, yeah it does.” You told her. So AJ kept going- licking, kiss and even sucking your sensitive area, getting to hear more and more sweet sounds of pleasure from you as the minutes went on. Her hand got back to massaging your ass which she already knew you liked, so it drove you even closer to the edge. Eventually, your hips bucked against your will so she held you down, continuing to lap up your juices as you were practically fighting for your life not to sound like a needy little girl under her touch. “Hey, hey…” She detaches herself from you, “It’s alright, honey. Make all the noise you want.”

Oh, God. Those eyes, the warmth of her touch and her tongue. You were getting giddy, and dangerously close to the peak.

Suddenly, you feel her fingers ghosting the mound, “Yes, please. AJ, do it.” You wanted to try that, so she added her finger to the mix with no resistance. AJ thought that it must’ve been wrong…having her face buried in your heat and her fingers so deep inside you, right?Feeling the coldness from her ring, you seethed right as she poked you in the sensitive area inside. It snaps her out of that thought that was quickly abandoned. You whined, and loudly, “Fuck. God, AJ that feels so damn good- keep going.” Getting a little cocky now, she went a whole lot faster hoping you let you have your release soon. With her sucking and finger-fucking you while her hand groped your breast, the combination made you clench- your pleasure was near the brink of unraveling. Of course, she could feel it all being actually inside of you. She may not very experience, but she was a quick learner. “Come on, baby.” She cooed, “Give me one. Let go.” And you did, as if on her command while your back arched off the mattress. You’d creamed her two fingers completely with your slick as your body trembled from the intensity of your high. She pulls them out, clambering back up to kiss you. “I love you, y/n.”

You smiled giddily, “I love you, too.” Brushing the hair out of her face, you ask, “You wanna have a go?”

She laughs, “Mm, sure.” Kissing you again, you were now laid on your side before she slid yourself down slightly to hold her nipple in your mouth for a beat. You licked and sucked it, while fondling with the other. She moans, biting down on her lip. “Don’t hold back, AJ.” You coaxed, “If it feels good let me hear it, okay?”

When she was under your touch, she was the one who got shy. Just like she did yesterday, but it seemed a little better today now that she was obviously more familiar with you and absolutely comfortable and needy. “Okay.” She agrees, and moans quickly chased her response, “Ah, ah- shit. Shit.”

Smugly, you start to tease her folds with a finger and she almost instantly whined. You pulled your finger away while moving yourself back up to meet her face just so you could witness the change in her expression. Gosh, she needed you to touch her so bad. But you wanted her to tell you. “What do you want, sweetie?” Your fingers danced along the side of her body as you gazed into her eyes expecting a specific answer.

“Baby, I need you to touch me.” AJ spat out hurriedly, hiding her face behind her hand. You pushed it aside, “I want to see your face, pretty girl, hmm? You need me to touch you, babe?” “Yes. Please.” She nodded, licking her lips.

“Okay.” Your finger returned to its position, sliding downwards just slightly then you start to rub her clit to see and hear what she thought of that. “You like that, babe?” You weren’t expecting a verbal response, but she tells you yes anyway. So you picked up your pace as a reward for her as she clung onto you for dear life, her leg now rested on your hip for extra support. Unlike you, the rougher you went, the more she wanted. AJ seems to like it a little more aggressive. And so be it, she let you feel good and it was now her turn.

Pretty soon, you slipped two fingers inside her easily, curling them so you could locate and hit her g-spot. AJ grew increasingly vulgar as you continued to ram your fingers into her, your actions and her noises matched up- one for one. It also wasn’t long before you felt her walls tightening around your fingers, you decidedly got ahold of her nipple again and twisted it in between your fingers will your other hand continued with the push-and-pull in her cunt. “Oh, fuck!” She cried out with a pant, and she came, just as you were hoping she would. Satisfied, both your hands detached from her. “Fucking hell, that was something else. Holy shit.”

————

A little later, you and AJ found yourselves in the kitchen to fix up some lunch. You were wearing one of her t-shirts that she’d picked out for you to change into after your shower, AJ was in a cute little camisole top and shorts. “Do you want the same one so I can just dump it in the same pot?” She asks you, referring to the two packets of instant ramen in her hands.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” You shrugged.

AJ squinted at you, “Are you okay? Please don’t tell me I hurt you.”

“Oh, you definitely didn’t.” You assured, “Don’t worry. I was just- spacing out a little.”

“Alright.” She smiled, relieved as she opened up the packets of noodles then dumped them into the pot on the stove. You hugged her from behind, pressing a kiss to her shoulder blade. She chuckles, “Yes, honey?”

“Nothin’.” You said back, “Just wanted to hug you.”

“Cute.” She commented, “Hey, what do you say we go out for a drive tonight? Maybe get some takeout on the way and head to Broadway to see a show?”

“Sounds great.” You agreed, “I kinda wanna go to Times Square.”

“You do?” She knew you typically would stay away from a ‘touristy area’ since you didn’t like crowds that much.

“Yeah, but I kinda miss it. Just wanna do a little walk through. Then maybe we can stop by an observation deck for sunset first.”

“Sure, honey.” AJ answers while stirring the food in the pot and turning down the heat. You unwrapped your arms, loosening your grip around her and just stood by her as she portioned the noodles into two bowls. After lunch, you and AJ lazed on the couch watching reruns of old sitcoms on TV for a couple hours before going out for a walk.

On your walk, you bought tickets for AJ and yourself to The Edge in Hudson Yards- it was the cheapest option. Once the both of you got back home, you got dressed and ready for the evening. It was a two-hour drive into the city, but AJ thought you two should leave a little earlier just to be safe. She drove, you sit in front with her. Before you knew it, the familiar hustle and bustle of the city filled your senses. “We’re gonna go to the deck, dinner, show, Times Square then drive home.” AJ listed.

“Yep.”

“Alright, let’s park this car and get upstairs.” AJ grins, glancing at you.

Being 100-storeys up, you got a breathtaking view of pretty much the whole of Manhattan. You haven’t been to the city in ages and this had you in awe. AJ took you by the hand and led you to sit down with her at the steps after taking a few laps around the deck to look at the view and take some pictures. AJ tilted your face to face her own, “Are you sleepy already, honey?” She plants a kiss on your forehead and you rest your head on her shoulder, basking in her company and the gorgeous view in front of your eyes as the setting sun painted the sky golden hue. “I’m not.” You chuckled, “This view is gorgeous.”

“Just like you.” She mumbles, laughing to herself as she held your hand. Her free hand took her phone out to get pictures of you — which you didn’t realise, and the sunset.

“Hm?” You sat back up, looking at her now.

“Nothing.” AJ avoided eye contact. “AJ, no- please talk to me. It’s okay.”

You took in a deep breath, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, anything.” You nodded and smiled, intertwining your fingers with hers.

“We’ve been dating for about a month and I’ve been thinking…I want you to be my girlfriend. You know, like- officially? So I um-” She began, reaching into her purse. You watched her, concerned, honestly. Purely because she seemed so nervous. “I made you- this. Here.” She hands you a small package wrapped in what seemed like paper from a sketchbook. You untied the bow, carefully unfolding the paper. There was a bracelet in there, but the drawing on the paper caught your eye first- it was a Hello name sticker that said ‘I love you’ in the blank.

“Oh, my God. AJ. I love this.” You slid the bracelet onto your wrist and took a closer look at the little drawing she did, “I am totally framing this.”

She smiles, squeezing your hand even tighter.

You freed your hand from her grip and grabbed her face with both hands, crashing your lips onto hers, “Fuck, I love you so much, my girl.”

AJ chuckles and smiled into the kiss, “I love you.”

#auli’i cravalho #aj campos #crush #hulu crush #lgbtqia #queer fiction #sfw wlw #wlw #wlw fluff #romance #Spotify #reader insert #x reader #female reader

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dent-de-leon · 10 months

Text

Thinking about. How nine wizards tried to cage and twist Lucien's soul, use him as nothing more than a vessel in their grand design, a broken spirit consumed by the agonizing dream they all shared. The fact that mages from the age of arcanum--like the Somnovem--were known for capturing fate touched souls in an attempt to bend destiny to their will, manipulating and torturing those that had drawn the Matron's eye. Unfortunate souls like Lucien.

“...The surviving chronicles of the Age of Arcanum are filled with tales of magical hierarchies who enslaved those they took for fate-touched--or worse, attempted to extract the essence of fate from them by the most horrid means.”

Thinking about how, even now, after a thousand years, tyrannical wizards are still tormenting those chosen by Fate, capturing and twisting them to their own ends.

But there was still one wizard who went to hell and back and risked everything to save someone bound by fate. Intent on taking him home--regardless of fate's design and even death--never giving up hope, even if that fated soul was already doomed from the start--

Caleb sounding just like those ancient mages from the Age of Arcanum at first. "Anyone can send a message through a wire or make lights. I want to bend reality to my will." Caleb insisting he's only traveling with the Nein to further his own goals. Berating himself for not abandoning them the moment they are no longer of use. “Look at this one. He’s like a walking rainbow, what is this? Why are you with him? It makes no sense. He’s a circus performer, he’s not going to help you—”

And instead, he uses all that power to try and save someone he loves. Realizes just how cathartic and good it feels to finally uses his magic to heal:

"Caleb is going to set his hands on the Transmuter Stone, which is as big as an ostrich egg--and think of all the time and energy that went into making him able to destroy, and tear down. And how good it feels to subvert that and turn it, and use it to build. And Restore. And heal. And begin to summon up every ounce of learning and ability and skill and inspiration and imagination I have, and channel it into the stone. And fill it with the shared connection everyone here has, and try to summon our friend back from the beyond."

Thinking of a legacy of wizards who were selfish and cruel and only cared for their own self-interests, willing to step on everyone else in their path so long as it gave them an edge--no sacrifice too great for the cost their work demands. Wiling to tear apart fate itself and invoke the wrath of the gods even if countless innocents have to pay the price for their arrogance.

Thinking of one wizard who was so haunted and desperate and lonely--how his heart was touched by another lost, broken soul like him. And in the end, all Caleb wants is to just bring him home--

#mollymauk tealeaf #caleb widogast #widomauk #forever thinking of how if this were the age of arcanum molly could have ended up imprisoned by wizards just like caleb--#critical role

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echo-goes-mmm · 3 months

Text

Moonflower #1

Prompt

Masterpost

Warnings: torture, rape mention

They had stolen him in the summer, which seemed like cheating. He was a spring, and summer was for laziness and play after a strong season. He shouldn’t have had to worry about mortals trapping him in iron.

It didn’t matter now.

Moonflower had no idea where he was, except that he was far from the fae realm. The cell was unforgiving cold stone, with horrid iron bars that burnt his skin and weakened his magic. There was no sun, or clean air, or any plants at all. Not even moss.

It was suffocating.

What did they want from him? Wishes, or luck charms? Moonflower was a simple nymph, not gentry but wild. His magic was unimpressive; not suited for the miracles mortals often craved.

He could hear distant footsteps coming towards him.

___________________

Moonflower stuck his fingers down his throat, vomiting up the saltwater they forced him to swallow. The salt hurt like a thousand tiny cuts, the sheer amount of his making his tongue bleed.

The wound wouldn’t last long, but he’d rather get his mouth salted than see what it would do in his stomach.

The air stank of his burnt flesh, and the sizzling sound of iron on his skin still echoed around in his mind.

Summer was slipping through his fingers, and he was so tired. But he had to hold out.

He would not give them his name. No matter what they tried.

___________________

Stars, he was weak. Couldn’t even fight back anymore. In the beginning, he trashed and bit and clawed. It took three men to hold him down then, and now mundane rope kept him in place.

Fall was turning to winter, and he wasn’t sure if he was going to make it. Winter was hard on him; springs didn’t do well in frost. His color was fading, which had never happened, even in blizzards. His hair was graying, becoming brittle like dead leaves.

Moonflower was starving to death. He was starving for more than fresh meat and water, he needed light and air. He’d even settle for eating soil like a seedling. Just a taste of something other than cold stone and salt and iron.

He curled up on the floor the best he could, trying to stave off the cold. His clothes were long gone, and his nakedness bothered him when it hadn’t before. Plenty of fae wore nothing, but here-

He saw the way they looked at him.

He didn’t want to think about it. Moonflower closed his eyes and tried to sleep the hunger away.

___________________

“Good morning, fae boy.” Moonflower opened his eyes slowly. He had a headache, and the blood on his skin was still tacky.

“What, no snarling? Not even a little growl?” Moonflower said nothing. It didn’t matter what he said; it was only wasted energy. It was midwinter, and he just wanted to sleep.

“You look like shit,” said the mortal. He crouched down in front of him. Moonflower must look really pathetic if the mortal was so blasé about it.

“Got anything to tell me?” Moonflower stared at him. He felt numb, an aching emptiness.

“Suit yourself,” shrugged the human. He pulled out an iron knife from his belt. The mortal pressed it to his neck, searing his skin.

Moonflower whined, high in his throat. He couldn’t take this anymore. The salt, the iron, the rape.

And when he died, they’d just take another of his kin. Maybe they’d even snatch a seedling. He couldn’t let this happen to a child.

“Moonflower,” he croaked. The human pulled away, and the cool air did little to help the burning.

“What did you say?”

He dug his nails into his palms. “My name is Moonflower, and you may have it.”

The human grinned down at him, a sadistic look on his face, and Moonflower immediately regretted it.

“Moonflower,” said the human, and every muscle and nerve in his body was alight with magic, waiting for a command.

But then the human let go of the puppet strings. He sank against the cold stone, trembling.

“Now we can finally start your training.”

Of course.

It was never going to be over; it was never going to stop. No matter what he did.

Moonflower looked up at the human, and felt nothing at all.

taglist: @paintedpigeon1

#NEW SERIES NEW SERIES #whump #my writing #slavery whump #Moonflower series #resigned whumpee #fae whumpee #intimate whumper

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ragingbookdragon · 10 months

Text

For The Love I Bear Was Only Given To Worship You With

Haldir of Lothlórien x Reader

Word Count: 3.3K Warnings: Semi-graphic depictions of assault/violence, blood, etc.

Author's Note: Please be advised within the first few paragraphs there is depiction of sexual assault. If that is a sensitive topic for you, then I strongly advise you to skip over until the first ellipses. -Thorne

**********************************************************************

The defilement the orcs committed felt like hours, in fact, in probably had been hours since she and Celebrían had been taken captive and tortured repentantly. Her sister, however, had been spared, hopefully in some aspect, no thanks to her screams of “Take me! I am the youngest!” Celebrían had sobbed hysterically, begging her not to, but all she could think of was Elrond and his children, how she had to protect her sister for the sake of her brother-in-law.

It was, brutal. Black blood smeared with her own crimson as she lay motionless, no longer screaming her throat ragged, she lay still. From a distance, it felt like she was watching it happen, like her soul had departed from her body to witness the degradation. She could sense it all, hear and smell everything, from the thick scent of sweat and blood to the horrid, grating grunts and diabolical laughter.

And when they were done, they simply haphazardly tossed her back into the gated pen that Celebrían was sitting in the corner in. Her sister’s body was covered in cuts and bruises, but there was no sight of blood smeared anywhere below her hips and that made her sister have some feeling of relief deep inside. Celebrían scrambled to her knees, pulling her sister into the corner, hands going from her face to her torso hovering over her lap.

“Oh, oh Eru,” she gagged in her horror as her sister merely curled into a ball on her thighs, not even feeling any of the pain, and passed out. Celebrían merely held her, praying to the One that someone would save them.

***

Something was nagging at her, but she couldn’t tell what it was. A feeling in her chest that felt as if it was tearing away at the very muscle of the organ. She wanted to stay in the darkness she was in. It was cold, calm, quiet—a far cry from what she had left behind. But the feeling wouldn’t quit tugging at her. Finally, she opened her eyes to stop it, but if nothing else, to at least see what it was.

Bleary eyed, she blinked at the figure in white standing a ways from her, a sound coming from it; she continued to squint until her vision cleared and her mother stood before her, lips moving in a continual motion of, “Get up. You must get up.”

“I do not want to,” she said lethargically.

“You must get up, hína nîn,” Galadriel repeated. “They are coming back for your sister. Get up.”

She felt something shift in her chest again, another strong pulse. “I cannot rise.”

Something turned in her mother’s gaze and she raised a hand, a ball of light in it. “They will do to her what they did to you. My child, you must get up.”

“Mother, I—”

“Rise, and protect yourselves!” Galadriel commanded.

***

Her eyes snapped open, and she instantly heard the blood curdling screams of Celebrían ripping from her throat; her eyes darted, catching sight of two orcs pulling her by the arms and the same force in her chest culminated into a violent shift of energy that had the orcs flying and her sister hitting the ground.

She ran, grabbed Celebrían by the arm, and flung her back behind before raising her hands. A force unlike anything that had not been seen in ages emanated from her palms, a blinding, white-hot energy that created a warping aegis around them.

Her eyes were narrowed in righteous rage as she warned the orcs clambering to their feet, “Pass this hallowed barrier and I will annihilate you.”

One of the orcs pulled out his sword, bellowed in his guttural tongue and ran at the barrier; she merely watched as he brought his sword down only for it to shatter into a thousand shards, and when his body met the field, he was consumed by white flame, yelling in pain before he fell to the ground.

She drew her gaze from the dead orc to the ones gathering back behind the barrier and stared them down with deadly eyes. “You will not cross this barrier so long as I stand. I will not fall.”

A bloodthirsty haze fell over the group, and they began screaming in their tongue at her, running to take her down.

***

It wasn’t long before elven arrows pierced the flesh of orcs, a war horn blaring across the mountain side as horses thundered across the rocks and silver swords were slashing at heads and limbs.

She still stood, hands raised in the same position as countless burned bodies lay at the edge of the shield. Blood dripped from her nostrils as the energy of her body and soul went into the force of the barrier, but she would withstand a thousand years of it, if it meant her sister would be safe.

The orcs dropped like flies around them, some trying to flee only to be hunted down by Rivendell and Lothlórien soldiers. She watched, catching sight of her brother-in-law and nephews among the fray.

All but one orc remained, the leader of their pack, held by three elves, each on his arms and one with his head in his grip. Elrond raised his sword, an unexplainable emotion on his face, only to hear from the distance between them, “STOP!”

His blade froze midair, and he spun, seeing the barrier disintegrating. She stumbled, torn and dirtied dress exposing her body as she hobbled towards him. “My Lady—” he started, and she ripped his dagger from his belt with fury.

“He is mine to kill.” She looked at the elves holding his arms. “I order you to cut his limbs off. Leave his head attached to his body.”

They did as she commanded, not feeling a thing but disgust as the orc shrieked in pain. As he fell onto his back, she scrambled atop him and glowered down, shoving the blade horizontally between his teeth to keep his mouth open.

“You have defiled me. I, a daughter of the Lady of Light. You have committed a sin so foul, so grave, so unspeakable.” Her voice grew with her rage, a shaking beginning to rattle the ground around them and the elves looked at one another in shock, if not all-overwhelming fear.

Trees began to sweep from the dirt, exposing their roots with creaks and groans of vengeance, stones fractured, the ground splitting in cracks along the way. Fury stormed in her eyes as lightning flashed across the sky, her voice a force full of seething hatred as she yanked the blade from his mouth, feeling black blood splattering her skin as his cheeks and face ripped. She raised the blade and stabbed down.

“YOU WILL DIE FOR WHAT YOU HAVE DONE!” stab after stab. “YOU WILL ROT IN THE DEEPEST PITS OF WHATEVER HELL YOU HAVE CRAWLED OUT OF!” she continued to stab into his flesh, carving away at the organs in his chest.

Her arms grew tired, but she didn’t stop until someone grabbed her, and she screamed, turning the blade on them, eyes wild as she snarled, “DO NOT TOUCH ME!” she turned the blade on them all. “NO ONE IS TO TOUCH ME!”

The elf, Haldir, her courter, she recognized in her haze of rage, stepped back, his own eyes going wide with concern as she staggered to her feet, covered in black ichor. The blade dropped beside her feet, and she turned to Elrond, her expression dead.

“Take my sister home,” she charged, before turning in the direction opposite of Lothlorien.

His sons were already gathering their mother and Elrond stepped towards her, raising a hand only to remember her warning, asking worriedly, “Where are you going?” his eyes, in horror, saw the state of her lower body. “You need to be healed.”

She merely kept walking. “Do not speak to me of healing. You will never heal what I have suffered. Take my sister home, Elrond. Now.”

It was all she said before disappearing down the side of the mountain, the elves of Rivendell and Lothlórien all stunned and silent. Haldir was torn between helping Lady Celebrían and going after his love, but one look from Elrond, and a quickly barked order to the elves around had him moving to assist Elrond’s sons, his heart aching for his love.

***

2910. Four hundred years had passed since the attack on the daughters of the Lady of Light. Four hundred years since Elrond had watched his wife depart to the Undying Lands. Four hundred years since he grieved for the loss of both his wife and sister-in-law who was nowhere to be found. Not even Lady Galadriel would speak of her whereabouts, though he had full reason to believe that she knew.

It was a time of celebration in Lothlórien, and he and his children had come to the land to join in the time of joy with their family, welcoming the spring as gold filled the forest along with blooming flowers of all shades.

The party was beautiful, the food and wine delicious, but Elrond could see the sadness in his brethren’s gazes, knew they all missed the Daughters of Light so terribly. Haldir, Elrond knew, was hit just as hard as he was. Both he and her were born the same year, him becoming a sort of knight watching out for her as she grew older. Their affection and devotion to one another was evident to all around them; their people could only wonder when Haldir was to court her, but when the incident occurred, and she vanished, they watched one of their strongest soldiers fall into a deep ravine of grief. Elrond felt for his fellow elf, could only offer wise council to ease their hearts, but he knew Haldir would never be the same until she came home.

The joyous celebration was brought to a sudden halt as a bright light filled the entrance of the dining hall. Everyone covered their eyes, at first assuming it had to be Lady Galadriel, but she was at the center with Lord Celeborn. Soldiers raised their arms, regular elves protecting their partners and children until the light began to dim and, in the center, stood the remaining Daughter of Light who hadn’t been seen for four-hundred years.

She wore a pure, snow-white dress, adorned with a green sash and gold designs all across the front. The patten ebbing up from the edge of her dress was that of the trees of Lothlórien, branches trailing up to her hips. Her shoulders were covered by golden pauldrons, golden wrist guards wrapped around her forearms. Gold sandals wrapped elegantly around her feet and calves like vines.

Her expression was one of calm, and an overwhelming peace filled the sanctuary when she smiled so softly and murmured, “Forgive me for my absence.” Her steps were delicate as she walked up the middle of the tables to her mother and father where she knelt before them. “Mother, father, I have come home.”

The two had rather subdued reactions, but everyone could see the happiness and love in their eyes as they smiled at her; Galadriel reached down, lifted her chin, and asked, “Have you found peace, hína nîn?”

A smile so contrasted to the absolute infernal rage they had seen on her four centuries earlier was shocking, but she nodded. “I have spent four hundred years in solitude healing from unimaginable wounds. My only comfort was the light of the sun and stars.” Her smile was kind, her voice gentle. “I have found my peace, mother. I am whole.”

Lady Galadriel wasn’t even able to say a word when cheers and cries of joy echoed around them, flowers thrown and celebration around. The party continued on, now a third chair at the table of the Lady and Lord, many elves coming to greet and express gladness at their Daughter of Light’s return. Even Elrond came and she greeted him with a hand to her chest and he returned it, but suddenly overcome with emotion, tears gathered in his eyes, and he whispered, “Forgive me.”

She simply smiled and reached up, wiping his tears with her thumbs as she calmly replied, “There is nothing to forgive, muindor.” Her smile only brought more tears to his eyes and with a gesture much like human affection, she pulled him to her and gently rubbed his back. “You have done so much in this time. So much grief and sadness you have weathered for your children and people.” Pulling back, she gazed at him. “Grieve for me no longer, muindor. I have grown.”

He swallowed thickly and reached up, gently touching her cheek as if she were glass. “I am glad you have returned. We have all missed you.” She merely smiled, eyes crinkling at the edges.

***

As the evening drew on, the elves took to dancing in the night, the sound of music lifting the hearts and souls of them all. She stood off to the side, watching with warmth until she felt a presence beside her. “Haldir,” she murmured before looking over. “You look well.”

He in fact looked like hell had come alive. To suddenly see her after so many centuries, his heart had felt as if it had imploded, sunken to the bottom of the seas. “I only pale in comparison to the beauty of My Lady.”

Her smile set him at ease as they looked over the crowd. “Such beautiful music.”

“Indeed,” he agreed, happening to meet the eyes of the harpist who smiled at him. A pretty little elf, a few centuries younger than him, long red hair, and bright green eyes. “Ningannelthel has certainly gathered many eyes and hearts with her skill.”

“I would not doubt that.” She glanced at him. “Perhaps it is time you court her?”

Haldir’s eyes went wide, and he gaped at her. “I—beg pardon?”

“Ningannelthel is not married. Her eyes do not speak such volumes. She comes from a respected line. If you were to court her, it would be a joyous union.” She gestured for him to go. “Please, do not let me keep you. Go forth and court her.” She wouldn’t hear anything from him, saying her goodbyes as she retired for the evening.

***

It was the coolness of the morning that stirred her, and she stood at the highest platform in Lórien, watching the land wake up before her. The air was crisp, a bit chilly even as the sun began rising, but she felt calmness like nothing she had felt before.

Her time in solitude was spent truthfully in a cave, sealed inside the dark as she cursed and screamed her agony for years on end. For two centuries, she dwelled in darkness and rage until the third when she finally had no strength left, and she prepared herself to waste away into nothingness, when a single bright blossom bloomed in the center of where she lay.

For an entire hundred years, she gaze at the golden flower, a soft song like that of Eru sung to her for only her ears, and tears dripped down her face like a river of crystal. Her body, her soul, her mind healed from her suffering as the anger, like her tears, eventually dried up and dissipated, until all that remained was a tranquility. A peace that would measure and level the land for the ages to come.

At the end of the fourth century, she took the flower from the ground and consumed it, the blessings of Eru departed to her, melding with her soul and she saw the Timeless Halls where the One dwelled, was given the sight of the Secret Fire, and bestowed a single gift with many traits. One gift above all, to heal and to protect. She knew then that she served a higher purpose in the course of time; she saw the sun for the first time in four hundred years, and cried tears of exultation.

The sun rising now reminded her of the beauty of the light after darkness for so long. There was such beauty in it, unspeakable, untellable beauty. A presence stood beside her.

“I have heard you decided to not court, Ningannelthel,” she said.

“No,” he answered. “I cannot court whom my heart does not belong to.”

“Your heart belongs to a woman no longer here, Haldir,” her voice was one of pity and he appeared before her, shadows on his face as the sun haloed his hair.

“I have loved the same woman from the moment I saw her when I was a child to even this very moment. I have loved her regardless of what she suffered. I will continue to love her in her transformations. I will never stop loving her, no matter who she is now or who she was then.” He gazed at her with a look of seriousness unlike himself. “I have never loved her more than in the four centuries I spent waiting for her to return to me. And no one will ever love her more deeply and more timelessly than I have.”

Her heart beat in her chest like normal, but it was abnormally strong as she took in his words. “You would have me? Even though I am not who I once was?”

He knew what she meant. Much like the stories of her mother’s prideful spirit being tempered by humbleness, he saw the same. No longer prideful like she had been prior to the incident, snarky and mischievous. Now, she resembled her in demeanor and soul like her mother, calm and humble. And ever-dispelling well of wisdom and love.

Haldir knelt before her and took her hands in his. “I would walk the land until it is destitute if it meant I could have you in the next life.” He stared at her. “And even if you left again, still I would wait for you to come home, even if it meant I only could take one glance at your face.” His heart came pouring out of his mouth. “If one day you command me to stand in place, I would stand there until you told me to move or until I returned to the ground. If you told me to go in search of what your heart desires, I would not stop until I had found every piece and brought it back.” Tears filled his eyes, and he choked out, “If one day you commanded me to give my heart to another, I would rather pull it from my chest and bury it in the earth, for the love I bear for you was only given to me by the grace of Eru to worship you with.”

She fell to her knees and laid her head on his lap, tears seeping into the cloth covering his legs; he held her, tears falling down his cheeks.

“I have waited for you this long, meleth nîn. If I have to wait longer, then I shall, but I will always love you, and nothing will ever even come close to being able to dim my devotion.”

Rising, she met his eyes and took his hands in hers. “I do not know if I can make you as happy as you wish to be, Haldir. I do not know if I can give you what you wish.”

He shook his head, a teary smile on his face as he confessed, “Whatever you give to me, I will be satisfied with. So long as I can hold you in my arms for all eternity.”

She leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together and whispered, “Melin gin, Haldir.”

“Melin gin, meleth nîn,” he murmured, their smiles rivaling the brightness of the sun.

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druidshollow · 7 months

Text

Red Lights and New Sensations

Eleven Rivers woke.

He awoke to his prison cell in Adamant Dune's complex. The room was dusty and small, smaller than his old chamber, and the air smelled of singed circuits and parasitic rust. But Eleven Rivers knew he wasn't truly awake, because the room was wrong.

A sickening red glow sat suspended in the middle, staining the walls in harsh shadows and making the air twitch with energy. Dune's eyes sparked among the shadows but the red light kept drawing Rivers in, tempting him, commanding him.

Look to me.

Listen to me.

You are evil. You are vile.

You are incapable of love.

The light overtook him and the world buzzed, loudly, louder and louder as his walls churned and his pipelines flowed and his breath left him, shaking the world below.

He was himself again! Revelation! His mind sparked with activity, he was awake, and the world around him flowed with information like a melody. It was all a bad dream.

But how had I slept?

The moment it left his head his structure lurched and the world became fire. He knew so much at once; so fast, so rapid, he'd forgotten the might of knowing more than the world and in a flurry, a panic, his overseers projected images of serpentine monsters tearing his city down, boring through his roof. Horrid beasts with tearing scythes and crushing jaws. Warnings sounded around him, his sirens blared, his nerves screamed as the mycelia connecting them was severed. It was all too much.

The red light warped and twisted in the center of his chamber, and again it beckoned, tearing him away from the sensory overload.

Beg for my mercy.

Apologize, bargain, and pray.

Never has anyone so truly deserved to fall.

The light overtook him and it grappled, encompassing his small, small body, his structure fading and leaving him. The hum quieted but the light burned, running static trails along him and gently threatening to bite. How he wanted to fight it. How he wanted to let it win.

"You are me," it whispered weakly.

"We will never win."

Eleven Rivers woke.

Hydraulics churned gently as the shelter hummed awake around him. His sibling dozed gently near him, their new acquaintance sitting across from them and fiddling with something.

Root mumbled a greeting. Eleven Rivers stared at his hands.

Sleep was a foreign and invasive new concept to Eleven Rivers' world; in his old skin he had no need for sleep. In his old skin his demons could never find the opportunity to manifest into spectres, lights clinging to walls.

But his old skin was a prison.

A prison.

A wonderous prison.

... Wasn't that familiar?

He had no choice but to free himself.

--------------

hehehehahaaa i havent written in so so long and dreams are always one of my faves so i decided to do that! i might write some longer stuff sometime, this is pretty short, but its fun anywyas

#rain world oc #Iterator oc #off string au #os rivers #druid write #rain world fanfic #writing fun!!!! :D #ask to tag im so unsure #implied abuse

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bucky-barnes-diaries · 2 years

Text

Day 25 — Haunted House

Pairing || TFATWS!Bucky x Female!Reader

Word Count || Around 500

Contents & Warnings || Fluff, Angst — horror/creepy vibes, jump scares.

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Flufftober Masterlist

Bucky hadn't seen you this excited and full of energy as you stood in line to enter what was dubbed by everyone that had been the scariest and blood-curdling haunted house experience. Being a big fan of everything spooky, you had been itching to go ever since it opened a few days ago, and had finally managed to drag your boyfriend with you, who has never been to one.

“I'm so excited. I'm so excited,” you mumbled as you bounced on your feet. Bucky, who had his arm around your shoulder, chuckled as he kissed your temple, finding your joy extremely cute.

“Well, I'm excited to see what all the buzz is about.”

“And I'm so glad I can take your haunted house virginity,” you grinned as you peered up at him while circling your arms around his waist. He blushed a soft pink and shook his head amusingly before he gave you a quick kiss.

As you were about to enter the house, you reminded him again that it was all an act because Bucky could be pretty protective over you and lose his sense of reality when you were in any type of danger or distress.

You clung tightly to your boyfriend as you walked the first corridor of the dimly lit house. Already now, you could hear distant screaming and terrifying sounds in the rooms to come.

When rounding the first corner, someone jumped out to scare you. The first of many high-pitched shrieks came from you, and Bucky himself was left stunned in fear. The horrifying character screamed behind you, prompting you and Bucky to scurry on deeper into the attraction.

Each room you walked through had its own macabre and sinister theme, varying from rooms with dolls, insane surgeons, creepy and motionless statues and every other horrid nightmare scenario one could think of. Each room had designated characters to fit the style and scare you and be overall creepy and unsettling.

The sounds throughout varied diversly from sinister giggling to electric buzzing, making your ears ring. The different lights and flashes were disorienting and heightened the fear factor with everything else combined.

All the different stimuli kept you on edge and tense the entire time. The adrenaline in your body rushed to each inch and end of your nerves.

Finally, at the end, you and Bucky rushed out as you held hands and clutched your hearts as you giggled and laughed at the fun yet terrifying experience.

“Ah,” Bucky exhaled as he wrapped his comforting arms around your waist from behind, feeling your fast-beating heart under them. He rested his chin on your shoulder and kissed your cheek. “That was very fun, doll. Thank you for taking my virginity,” he chuckled as he buried his face in your neck.

“And you know I would do it again,” you teased as you held him closer.

“What do you say we get some ice cream for a little bit of comfort and then go again?”

“Sounds like a plan, babe.”

Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

I don’t do taglists so please follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

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faithfromanewperspective · 7 months

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remember being in a horrid shitty mood catching the bus back to my parents, thinking, if they just painted a bus lane on the fucking road my journey could take less than 45 minutes and be way more reliable. wondering why it isn't there, the infrastructure, surely i could afford the jail time if i just went out there and built it, they wouldn't tear it down right? footpaths and shit. cause it's still a pretty rural area. instead i'm sitting on the bus destroying my mental health, no wonder i feel better having moved out of the area, when every car that cuts in front of us and all the traffic we can't just zoom past feels like a personal put-down, an insult to my way of life that i've chosen because it's better for all of us, not just me.

and realising, when my head's out of the constant frustration of it having moved out to somewhere walkable, i can see it 'above the trees' if you will that i can whine and bitch about it all i can (and believe me i have) but any change like the one i want, is political. we do this for the city, we as the whole city do it together. of course it would be good, say the 3+ million of us living in greater brisbane, soon to be 4, 5, 6, 7 million in the leadup to 2032 and after, but it's the tragedy of the commons isn't it? my priority, say 3+ million minus one self-supporting adult in this soon-to-be megacity, is getting to work every day and putting food on the table. i've never had that strong of a survival drive, I'd rather do the right thing and invest my choices into something that makes for a better city than be able to work or eat but when it comes to my mental health? sometimes you've gotta learn the hard way, some things you can't change, and it's not worth losing everything over. you can't think if you're exposing yourself constantly to what's fucking up your brain like if i punished myself for the inaction of the city it might make it better.

i'm starting to learn it doesn't. change is political, it's about power, and people are like water (bear with me, i'm a hydrologist) because it takes volume, all going a certain way, to make the biggest impact. have the strongest force. erode grooves in rocks and wash away entire buildings (this is brisbane, we've seen it happen). what we need, is all these people, 3+ million of us and more, coming together around an idea. getting together, council can't do anything to stop a majority, not in australia at least, and the functionality of a city is something we all need. heck, traffic is bad for all of our mental health and i would bet both my kidneys that the impact of it on our lives and relationships is understudied and underreported exponentially. we can solve this, but individual choices alone don't do shit.

so i'll stop beating myself up for not being able to simply will all the traffic lights along my commute to be green, and turn the energy i put into being mad at all of those stupid annoying cars into the things i do best. it turns out i'm really fucking good at drawing up ideas and connecting with people. so i'll stop beating myself up about the fact that the uni degree i did so i'd know about these things and the job i do for Experience and Sustenance meant i haven't had time to do all of these things As Soon As I Thought Of Them (like you always got told to do for your homework assignments). instead i'll think in larger timeframes. 9 years til the olympics. 2 to finish my masters degree. 27 til the rest of the world is carbon negative like tasmania and bhutan. what can i do in each of these timeframes? and how can i prioritise it?

as i coax my brain slowly out of fight or flight, as i put my pencils and watercolours and maps to annotate out on the table in front of me and say 'take your time, but you're allowed to do what you love' i know the places that have marked on my soul stand out to me. south east queensland right out to the bay. western sydney and bringing dignity to our second cbd, parramatta. queenstown tasmania, for some reason. the murray-darling basin as a whole, gundagai and the murrumbidgee at its heart. the red dirt centre of this great land and all the peoples and cultures it holds. i can hold all of their perspectives. i can train my intuition to find out all of their needs. i can put myself into 26 million pairs of shoes and decorate the lands and i can do it respectfully and lovingly like i'm tattooing my own skin because it might as well be. tattoo it with the needs of all of us and all who have gone before. blueprints of functionality, functionality we don't have, and then meet all 26 million souls (okay, i probably only need 2 million if we're starting from brisbane) and say to them, would you dream this dream with me? will you imagine this lifestyle where you're less burdened? can you be a part of simply talking about it, because that's how we're going to make it happen? can you improve it, make it better, make it yours, knowing that when you do it imprints itself on your heart a little more, you feel a part of it? and then we're all part of it. it takes years, but it can happen.

so i guess i've got my life's work cut out for me, and i'm so fucking glad i could figure this out from something that has been frustrating me to no end, because 'you can't change it' doesn't work for me unless you switch it out like a child's toy for something more big and exciting that i can change instead. fuck you, conformity. i found what it can be for me. a dream so big it doesn't matter if i can only do some of it--and who says i have to limit myself to australia?

#urban design #personal mental health tag #silver bridges #urban planning #sustainable transport #sustainable lifestyles #sustainable development goals #socio hydrology #neurodivergence #not to mention climate change mitigation

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organised-kitty · 8 months

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Tag 20-28 | 18/100 hours | 28/08/23

So basically this week I barely studied German, I only did like 2 hours in the entire week and I felt like a total failure to be honest. After careful analysis I realised I needed to re organize my goals, my plan, my study techniques and my mindset so I can make this work out the best possible. At this moment I’m in a stage where I feel like nothing works to help me get back on track but I need to see this as a period of experimentation to help me push forward. So this is my take on how to deal with failure and slumps in progress. (Inspired by selfcare-journey)

⭐️ Identify what’s not working

Personally, what’s keeping me from doing my tasks is the fact that I’m always feeling tired and I have frequent migraines; I have been sleeping less than 6 hours a day because of university and yet I haven’t done as much progress because I’m so tired, I can’t focus and therefore I worked very slowly which left me feeling lazier, very frustrated and unmotivated.

⭐️ Prioritizing health and self care

I think we have all been consumed at some point by the idea of toxic productivity where the one who works the most and sleeps the least is the best one, but ultimately enjoying learning and having quality study time will only be possible if we’re physically and mentally sane.

I feel hesitant to redefine my work hours because I feel guilty when I think of studying less, I’m scared of not meeting deadlines, but I already know that this toxic cycle isn’t working for me so I have to accept that it’s okay if I can’t study 8 hours straight, if I need more breaks than other people and it’s okay if I work slow, if I don’t grasp things quickly, it’s okay to fall behind..because I’m in the process of rewiring how I study and taking my time is better than not doing anything and giving up.

⭐️ Managing energy levels

Along with my horrid sleeping schedule this energy slump is also the result of me not eating throughout the day and then having a huge unhealthy meals later in the day, and it’s really affecting my energy levels. So I need to start keeping hydrated, doing light exercise, eating healthier and more regular meals along with having better sleep hygiene because honestly I feel half dead. I also need to go to a medical check up to figure out what’s the cause of my migraines.

⭐️ Dealing with procrastination

I think lately I really struggle with a sense of discomfort when I study because lately I associate studying with failure and frustration. So I think breaking my task into smaller bits might make it less overwhelming. When I was in therapy I learnt a lot about how to deal with intrusive thoughts and emotions so I will put some of those techniques into practice. I also want to work on self compassion and embracing the idea that even a little progress is a step closer to my goal, I think celebrating those small wins can create a positive cycle of motivation.

⭐️ Improving focus

For this aspect I will go back to the ultra short Pomodoro method. (10-15 min with 2 min break) Force myself to work for a small period of time and give myself a tiny break. It’s a pretty basic technique but the idea of this is to experiment and see how well it works for me, identify for how long I can work until things start to become difficult. I think the best breaks are those that keep you away from your phone, because 5 minutes of social media is a recipe for disaster. So I will try to do things like grab some water, stretch a bit, breathing exercises, clean my bag, walk around the room a bit, doodling, have a snack, so that I keep active but refreshed. I think being in a productive environment like a library or a cafeteria could also help to keep focused.

⭐️ Enjoying learning

Now that I’m coming across more difficult content I tend to get unmotivated, so I think the best strategy is try seeing it like a game, where I don’t focus on the learning outcome but rather focus on the process of understanding, problem solving and overcoming new challenges, perhaps that will make the journey more rewarding.

Reminding one self of why I started and connecting the connecting the content to my interests and real world applications could be really useful in boosting my curiosity and motivation as well.

⭐️ Active learning

My study sessions have turned into something very passive, just doing exercises and checking flashcards has become very boring. I think I need to re-incorporate more active learning techniques like writing in a journal in my target language and talking to native friends more.

Additionally I think I need to readjust my schedule and re organize myself so I can include these changes, track them and check for feedback, but this post is already long enough so I will make a separate one.

#studyblr #studyspo #study motivation #organization #studying motivation #studying #study tips #100 days of productivity #langblr #language learning #deutsch lernen #German #Germany #100 hours of german #deutsch langblr #light acamedia #mental health #executive dysfunction

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hanayori89 · 7 months

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A Breach in Contract

*Castle Town*

Your mood was somber as you meandered through the streets of Castle Town at night. The convivial atmosphere must have been asleep, along with most of Castle Town. You kept your face pointed down with a hood pulled over your head.

You walked briskly in search of a place to stay. You couldn't face Link. Not after what Midna had told you. You knew Zelda must have informed Link. At least from what you overheard. What was more bewildering was yet another recommendation to join forces with the Hero of Twilight. You were flabbergasted. Why did it feel like Zelda and Midna were pushing you both together?

What was more perplexing was why Midna thought he'd want to help the daughter of Zant. The daughter of the evil that tormented two entire realms. She may as well have told you that you were also Ganondorf's cousin. It couldn't possibly get any worse. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess as you aimlessly walked about. A dilapidated sign swung on its hinges in the distance. If it were an inn, it'd be the third one you would try your luck at.

The worst thing about the bombshell that was dropped on you was that you empathized with Zant. You would never call him 'father.' But you understood his motive for joining Ganondorf. Was the strong resentment towards the interlopers not even your own? Was it his? This was all the more reason for you to live in the light. It was no longer just about believing it was owed to you; it was owed to your fellow Twili to no longer dwell within their realm. You were a traitor by blood.

As you neared the battered wooden sign, you saw it had "bar" ornately scrawled on it.

Maybe someone can direct me to lodging.

You pulled your hood down, and the dim streetlight cast the faintest reflection of your face in the window of the bar door. You weren't caught off guard by your disheveled tresses, but rather by the sad eyes that peered back at you. You opened the door to hear light banter filling the air.

Ah, so a bar is like a pub. I've read about them. Maybe I can get information here then.

You eyed a stool at the end of the bar. As you made your way over, a gentleman whistled at you as you passed him by. You paid him no mind and took a seat, careful not to make any eye contact. The horrid memory of touching Aryn's hand seized you. Followed by what ensued as a result of it. You didn't even blame Aryn as much as you blamed yourself. You heard the sound of someone rattling the stool next to you.

It was the man who had whistled.

"I don't think the stars in the sky shine as bright as you, my lady." He sat down with a clumsy thump. "Let me buy you a drink."

"A drink? No, thanks, I'm not thirsty." You snubbed the man off. You kept your head high and your eyes straight ahead.

Somehow, your response was humorous. It impelled him to let out a laugh, followed by an emphysemic cough. "There is no need to be shy. Why else would you come sit at the bar? The mead here will loosen you up in no time."

You were losing your patience. Not to mention, time was of the essence. It was close to 10 o'clock. You had nowhere to take cover for when you transformed back to your Twili state.

Just as you were about to unjustly snap at the man, a tender voice hovered over you.

"Now, Alban, leave the girl here alone. She looks like she had a rough night." She gave you a playful wink as she slid a glass toward you.

"Don't mind Alban. If he stopped trying to hit up the pretty ladies, maybe the resistance would take him more seriously. Tell me what you want, and I'll tell you what I think you need." She tossed you another wink. Her energy was like an ice-cold drink for a thirst quelling to be quenched. Something about her spirit was so refreshing. Her vibrant red hair was tightly woven in plaits and neatly tucked up in a hair tie. Her outfit was edgy for being a work uniform. Her long black dress was tied together with an apron. Her cleavage was accentuated by the startling pop of an orange brassiere. She wore attention-grabbing pieces of jewelry that adorned her ears and neck. Even her nose had some sort of gem erupting from it. What really made the woman stand out was a signature mole beneath the corner of her bottom lip on her chin.

"What do you think I need?" You couldn't help but see if your feelings about the woman were right.

"Sweetie, I'd say a glass of milk and a warm bed to sleep in. You look like you haven't slept in days." Her thick lips seeped into a sweet smile. "Am I right?"

"A glass of milk does sound lovely." You loosened up on your stool.

"What about the warm bed?"

"How do you know I need lodging?" Sudden shame jolted through you. You wondered if maybe you looked like a pauper. The woman poured the milk into your glass. You went to grab it, admiring how frigid it was beneath your fingers.

She eyed you curiously. "I've never seen you around this way before. Judging by the way you are admiring that glass, I'd say you've never been to a bar either." She gave a low chortle as she continued her observation of you. "You aren't going to find any open lodging in Castle Town at this time of night. But I can make a recommendation."

"Please. Any recommendations would be quite helpful." You couldn't hide the desperation in your voice.

"I have rooms here. I don't let anyone just stay in them; people can't be trusted nowadays. But a young girl like you, well, I don't think you could harm a deku baba even if it was gnawing on you."

"Telma, darling!" A man waved an empty mug in the air. "Whaddaya say we get another round goin' over here!"

Telma. So that's her name. Quite fitting. It's unique yet comforting. Like her. "Telma, how much would you charge me to rent a room?"

Telma was quickly filling up big, chilled mugs with the sweet, frothy mead. "20 rupees." She was deep into her work. She gathered six mugs on a tray and brought them to the boisterous table of jolly men.

You watched her work. The way she made people laugh was effortless. You wish you could be that way. Maybe she can teach me a thing or two on how to fit in around here.

You realized, with an ache in your chest, that what you really wanted at that moment was a friend.

*Ordon Village*

Link lay in his own bed for the first time in almost a week. He sprawled his restless limbs all over the spacious bed. He couldn't find a position that was comfortable. The waves of perspiration from his night sweats weren't helping much either. He threw his covers off in annoyance. He walked over to the wooden pail that sat with cool water in his bathroom. He grabbed a towel, and soaked up as much of the water as he could and wrung it out. He roughly rubbed the cool towel all over his face. He began to dab it down his chest, then his torso. When he hit one of his scars on his abdomen, he stopped. Zant had given him that scar.

Or should he say Y/N's father gave him that scar? Link returned to his room, half expecting to see her in his bed. The scent of her hair lingered on his pillow, haunting him. He laid back down, grabbing the pillow in a bear hug. He inhaled it, closing his eyes and marveling over the smell.

He couldn't expel Y/N from his mind. He should be happy. He had his bed back along with the normalcy of his mundane existence.

Except he wasn't happy.

The life he was expected to live was not the life he wanted to live. He took another whiff of the pillow he clung to. The scent from Y/N's hair was almost like the scent of a fresh honeysuckle. Did they have honeysuckles in the twilight? Did they even use shampoo on their hair? Link rolled over, distraught by the barrage of questions he never asked Y/N.

Will I get to ask them? I understand the shame she must feel. But it isn't justifiable in my eyes. She didn't know any more than I did. I wish I could tell her that. But this news is just as new to her as it is to me. I just hope if she is back in this realm, as Zelda said she'd be, she's somewhere safe.

Link rolled over on his back once again, claiming the pillow with the scrumptious scent of honeysuckle that lingered on it. He wished he could tell Y/N that it was alright. That our parents don't dictate who we choose to be. Also, that he was sorry for the hand that had been dealt. That he had been the chosen hero to vanquish her dad. Despite Zant's ruthlessness, perhaps he was also impressionable under the manipulation of Ganondorf.

Even Zelda herself had almost fallen prey. Link wondered if he could actually even blame Zant. Did Y/N hold the same disdain for the interlopers because of Zant? A chill ran through Link, causing him to bundle up beneath his covers. He realized it easily could have been Y/N who had gone mad from Ganondorf's twisted gambit.

Link needed to find her. Not just because he swore to assist her on this trial. But he also had to heed Zelda's warning of what could occur if she kept traveling between realms. Otherwise, Link could very well have to fight Ganondorf once again. Though it would be a small price to pay to be with Y/N.

Then there was the marriage. Link had read the book Zelda provided him. His eyes were frantically searching for the one phrase that would set him free. He knew postponement at this point would not be possible. Zelda had proposed to use Y/N as an entity that was a threat to Hyrule. Zelda would shield her in the palace while her mandate would overrule the mayoral election and bring focus to all of Hyrule and its imminent threat.

Link did not want to see Hyrule cast into a frenzy of fear and despair once more. Even if it were a false proclamation. He also felt like Y/N's time in the light had been a bit traumatic, thanks to that horny pig, Aryn. The last thing she needed was to be shunned at the castle or rioted against by mobs of citizens.

Then the long-awaited light bulb went on. Link shot up in bed.

Link knew how to breach his wedding contract. He also knew how to do it in a way that would bring justice to all parties involved.

Link snuggled back up against his pillow. He needed to get some sleep for tomorrow. He was going to be paying a visit to a certain unsuspecting pervert in Castle Town.

A/N: Edited 12/17/22

News of your parentage has you avoiding a certain hero. You have found solace in the welcoming wiles of Telma. This is only a short-term solution. Will you have the courage to continue on your quest with Link by your side?

In Ordon village, Link has a plan to end the compulsory matrimony he must undergo with Ilia. What's his plan? More importantly, will it work?

Check out my other OOT Zelda work- No Woman Beyond (Wattpad info in bio!)

#legend of zelda #link #loz #fanfiction #link x reader #romance #wattpad #the legend of zelda #fanfic #twilight princess #twilight #twili #midna twilight princess #action #Hyrule #fanfic on tumblr

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mostlikelythedevil · 1 year

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Haunted. | [Chapter Four]

Pairing(s): Kevin Owens x Fem!Zayn!Reader, Solo Sikoa x Fem!Zayn!Reader

Warning(s): Explicit Language, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood

Word Count: 2,740

Chapter Summary: The awful events of the night must be put behind The Reader as she takes on Liv Morgan for an opportunity at the Smackdown Women’s Championship.

Link(s): AO3, Masterlist

Note(s): This is my first time writing the wrestling part of wrestling fan-fiction, so I hope that you all can enjoy it despite the short length of the action! As always, please let me know what you think!

Tag(s): @crowleysqueenofhell @raeluvshammett

Panic settles into your stomach in the same way that a child settles into the chair at the dentist: wriggling and uncomfortable and begging to be let out. It’s the kind of panic that, as a child, would cause you to stay up before a big test and fail it the next morning due to the lack of sleep. You can not allow this to be the night that you fail; you have to overcome.

There is a deep ache in your legs as you come to a stop at guerrilla.

Once upon a time, Kevin and Sami would have been here — together but separate, to wish you the best of luck on your match. They would have offered you advise, and they would have calmed your storm of emotions. Yet, here you are, alone and a complete mess.

On one of the monitors, Liv, in her all of her love and beauty, flaunts to a small group of women in the front row. Her tongue, like old times, is colored — blue. The group of women scream in delight. Each one of them does something back to Liv in exchange; one of them sticks her tongue out, one of them records with a shaking hand, one of them points at her as if she is the sun.

Fans could be so endearing — and Liv deserved the loving attention and adoration; yet, watching such a display of joy in such a dark moment in your own life is little more than infuriating. None of the fans had ever shown you as much love as this small group had shown Liv. The thought of it brings on a hot that encompasses your entire being; it’s unlike anything that you have ever felt before — a constant, hot, pulsating feeling. You can only hear the sound of your desperate, angry heartbeat in your head; around you, everything else seems to be white noise.

A hand comes into your view, blocking off the show that Liv continues to put on for her group of admirers. It waves angrily, occasionally motioning toward the curtain. You blink, taking a step back to find the entire picture. One of the crew members, presumably some kind of technician, seems to be yelling at you — though he does not understand that you are one with your emotions, even in your completely disheveled state.

“Get out there! Now!” The technician begs through another holler.

On auto-pilot, you make your way through the curtain to the ramp; it takes everything out of you to not raise your hands to protect your eyes from the harsh light set upon you. You look around, scanning the crowd aimlessly. They’re certainly making noise, and some of them seem happy to see you, but you cannot hear anything being said. Given your state, maybe it’s for the best that everything is white noise.

Unwillingly, you try to put on your best smile — though you’re not entirely sure how you look with smeared make-up and a horrid smile. You make your way down the ramp, doing your usual entrance with such little energy that, through the white noise, you can hear the distant displeasure of the crowd. Another wave of pulsating heat tears through you — newfound energy.

You find yourself into the farthest corner of the ring, not making eye-contact with Liv. You can feel her eyes on you, scanning you with what you can only describe as pity; it wouldn’t be too far-fetched to assume that Kevin had told her about the events prior given their friendship. God, he is the last thing that you need to be thinking about right now.

From the titantron, there are voices — loud and full of hurt.

All at once, the sound of the crowd and the commentary team and everything else fills your ears. Your eyes scan the screen in front of you, fixated on the scene of Kevin leaving you behind in the corridor. His face is so red, and the hurt in his eyes is so very palpable. The camera cuts to you screaming, a mess of tears and make-up running down your cheeks as you throw a chair in anger.

“Tonight has been an awfully long night for Miss Zayn,” Michael Cole comments as the video package shifts to you confronting The Bloodline in the middle of the corridor.

The pain in the eyes of your brother just before you slap him is enough to make your stomach twist — and his tearful eyes after the smack are enough to make you look away in shame. The pulsating blood in your veins returns, though, at the sound of Roman Reigns speaking down to you as if you are a stupid, insolent child.

“Why would you play that?” You holler down at Michael Cole and Wade Barrett on commentary, knowing that they had nothing to do with it. “Why would you play that?”

Barrett makes eye contact with you. “Will Miss Zayn be able to focus through this match?”

The bell rings.

Liv does not attack you while your back is turned despite the immense reward for winning. In fact, she goes out of her way to stand in the middle of the ring, waiting patiently.

“Are you okay?” Asks Liv as you do turn to face her.

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, and the heartbeat in your head is so deafening that you can scarcely hear Liv speak at all. In that moment, before you can consciously make the decision to attempt a response, you’re on top of her. Tears flow down your cheeks as your fists pound down onto Liv, aiming for her face yet happy to land anywhere.

You deserve the love that Liv has from the fans; you deserve love from Kevin, at least in the way of friendship, after everything you’ve done for him; you deserve a brother that will care for you and not betray you for some people that don’t genuinely care for him; you deserve the Smackdown Women’s Championship and more.

“It looks like Miss Zayn has snapped,” Cole comments, voice high-pitched.

After a moment, the referee in the ring pulls you off of Liv, shoving you backwards. You come to rest on the ropes, a bit stunned from the unexpected interference. On the mat, Liv writhes in pain, holding her face in the palm of one of her hands. At brief glances, you can see the betrayal in her eyes — and a small piece of you aches inside. She does not deserve to be abused.

Still leaning against the ropes, you allow Liv to stand. She looks at you with anger and hurt in her eyes — and before you can manage an apology, she lunges. Her fists come in hard against your own temple. You throw up your hands to protect what you can, but she continues her relentless flurry of blows. Between her and the ropes, you have nowhere to escape.

“Liv’s not gonna take that sitting down,” Barrett laughs, enjoying the mayhem.

As she had with you, the referee yanks Liv off of you.

The two of you stare at one another as you push yourself from the ropes; you circle one another, dancing delicately along the tension between you. Liv lunges, and you lunge with her, and the two of you entangle in a contest for dominance. Liv pulls your head to her side. You grip her waist, pushing her off of you and toward the ropes. You remain leaned down, waiting for her return so that you can flip her using her own momentum.

Liv seamlessly hops over your form, feet thumping against the ring. You turn, not expecting her to react so quickly. Her forearm flies wildly at your face. You grab it, twisting your body around her own, and you throw your foot toward her head. She hits the mat, clutching her chest. It appears you missed the mark, but it had the desired effect nonetheless.

You pull Liv off of the mat, and you attempt to throw her into the nearest corner. She’s stronger than she looks, though, and stops you in your place; instead, you go running into the corner. You use your momentum to grab the top rope, jumping over Liv — who is running to attack you with another forearm. Her head bounces off of the turnbuckle.

With all of your strength, you lift Liv onto the middle rope with her back facing you. She panics, wiggling around in the ropes. You nail her in the back of the head with a nasty forearm, settling her for the time-being.

Slowly, you exit the ring and climb the top rope. You often try to avoid using the ropes in a springboard or high-flying fashion out of fear of being injured, but tonight is different. Crouching on the top rope, you kick Liv in the head; she falls back, holding onto the middle rope with her stomach exposed.

You stand on the top rope, deaf to the roar of the crowd. Beneath you, your feet follow their own path, sending you tumbling onto Liv’s stomach. You dig into her, sending her straight into the mat — but you follow, landing awkwardly on your knees. A surge of heat flows through your knees. Teeth gritted, you force yourself over to Liv and cover her body with your own.

1... 2…!

Liv kicks out.

Frustrated, you grab Liv by the head and repeatedly slam her into the mat. She yelps, hands trying to push your own off of her. If you continue the assault on her head, you’re bound to injure her. Part of you doesn’t care if you injure her; maybe, somewhere deep down, you know you need her injured so she doesn’t come back looking for more. Yet, with that thought, you push yourself to stand.

“Miss Zayn is clearly caught up in her emotions tonight,” Cole comments, “we’ve never seen her act this careless for an opponent before.”

“She has every reason to be ruthless, Cole!” Barrett argues.

Wade Barrett, though rarely so, is more than right. You should be ruthless, especially tonight with such a prestigious match on the line. The championship, though, is not fueling you in the way that you had initially hoped; no, the deep pulsating beat of your heart in your ears is more than enough to keep propelling you to demolishing Liv. Still, though, you didn’t want to hurt her too bad.

Liv struggles to get to her feet, staggering. Without hesitation, you nail her in the head with yet another kick. Blood trickles from her nose as she hits the mat once again. Hesitation creeps in as you stare down at her, chest heaving, gaze hateful despite the thoughts of mercy in your head. You’re not going to win by waiting for her to recover. You don’t want to injure her head, though, and you seem extremely focused on that particular body part tonight.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you stomp over to Liv and put her into a Boston Crab submission. She yells out in pain, clawing desperately at the mat to get to the ropes. Your feet slip beneath you, forcing you closer and closer to Liv’s freedom from your submission; you throw her legs to the mat, stomping down on her head.

Why drag this out anymore?

You walk to the corner of the ring nearest to the ramp, leaning against the ropes. Up and down, your chest heaves as you wait. As soon as Liv can make it to a standing position, you are going to run through her as a warning to Roman Reigns; you bet that you can manage a spear better than he can, anyways.

Liv remains near lifeless on the mat, moaning and scarcely able to hold her pounding head. Still, with a patience akin to a predator with prey, you continue to lean against the ropes and watch her. Tonight is going to be your night — no matter what you have to do to secure the win, whether it be beating Liv down until she can no longer move or forcing her to give into you.

The thundering boom of a guitar and drums echoes through the arena.

The hair on your arms and neck raise as you turn to face the ramp, eyes wide and full of shock. On the titantron, the entrance video for Kevin Owens plays with malicious intent. Anger and hurt begin to bubble up as you watch your former friend on the screen, anxiously awaiting his appearance. How could he do this to you? He knew how much this meant — what this meant.

“Come on, Kevin!” You holler, tired of waiting for Kevin to appear on the stage.

For another moment, you stare at the ramp with no appearance from Kevin. An angry, heavy huff leaves your body as the music fades to nothing, and you turn back around to finish the match with Liv. Kevin could be addressed after the fact; something you should have come to the conclusion of far sooner.

Briefly, you see Liv running at you full-speed — and then everything is black.

Pain surges through your head, throbbing the most around your nose. A weight falls onto you, warm and almost a comfort through the intense throbbing in your temple, but you cannot bring yourself to move. In the distance, you can hear the muffled sounds of the crowd; muffled screaming of the commentary team; muffled counting of the referee. Without warning, the weight leaves you — all alone in the darkness and pain.

Though as heavy as stone, you manage to move your hand to your face, trying to somehow ease the immense pain by clutching it in your palm. Wet fills your hand, startling your body into trying to move; you groan at the sensation, managing to find yourself into a half-sitting position. The lights in the arena, as your eyes open, are painfully blinding.

Pulling your hand away from your face, after your eyes adjust to the harsh lighting around you, you guffaw. Bright crimson fills your palm, leaking freely from your nose; with this much blood, you’re sure that your nose must have been cracked by the impact of whatever it was that Liv did — probably her finisher, but you cannot be certain.

“I think Kevin Owens just cost Miss Zayn her opportunity at the Smackdown Women’s Championship,” the voice of Michael Cole states.

Tears fill your eyes at the confirmation you were too afraid to confront on your own. How could Kevin do this to you, even after all of that stupid fucking arguing? This meant everything — and he knew that, he knew that this was everything. To cost you the biggest opportunity that you had been given at this point in your career, could he have ever even truly cared for you as a friend?

Blood stains your custom-made attire as you roll out of the ring, tears mixing with blood and make-up to further ruin your face. Heaving is your chest as the crowd chants something that you cannot bring yourself to acknowledge; deep inside of you, beneath the complex ocean of anger and hurt and everything else that you cannot bring yourself to acknowledge — or, perhaps you cannot acknowledge with the growing numbness inside, there is a troubling bout of nausea that you need to address.

The sight of the backstage crew as you hobble through the curtain is that of people shocked, though none of the technicians or otherwise move to say anything meaningful. You don’t want to hear it, anyways. You need to be left to your thoughts. You need to be alone right now.

“My God, are you alright?” Sami comes running from somewhere beyond guerrilla, nearly toppling over you as you continue by. His hands come to rest on your shoulders, forcing you to a stop so that he can examine you. “We have to get you to medical.”

You stare through your brother. “Get off of me.”

“Look, I know you’re upset with me, and I understand, but you—”

Defiant, you push through your brother, and you walk around Solo without so much as a second glance. To your surprise—and relief, Sami does not chase after you as you sulk off to your locker room to lick your wounds, nor does Solo.

#WWE #WWE Imagine #Roman Reigns #Jey Uso #Jimmy Uso #The Usos #Solo Sikoa #Solo Sikoa x Reader #Solo Sikoa Imagine #Sami Zayn #Kevin Owens #Kevin Owens x Reader #Kevin Owens Imagine #Liv Morgan #Also on AO3 #Haunted: Chapter 4 #Haunted: Chapter Four

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topazpearl · 8 months

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in celebration of sbg returning in a little over 2 weeks (!!!!!) have my HUGE master doc of all my possible theories, ideas, wants/needs, etc.

(spoilers abound of course)

[Hamilton chorus voice] NUMBER ONE: The giant freakin phantompede and how to escape it

-Logan shoots it in the eyes, probably won't kill it tho, just make it mad and blind, which doesn't help

-they pull a Tremors and use the jeep as bait to make it jump off the cliff to its death, and they all jump out at the last second. a big gamble, assuming its stupid enough to do this. (tho making it blind first as mentioned could work) Sucks that they lose the jeep but they can get another car

-Or (this goes into my Phantom Ashlyn theory which I'll talk later) ashlyn can talk to it and tells it to go away and it….does! idk lol it's stupid but maybe ash has enough girl boss energy to convince it. or it's so shocked by a human talking to it it's like "dang ok"

-last idea: they're near the school so they lure it there and into the sports area, assuming they have a baseball field, and kill it with all the big lights there (the poetic justice of it all... get 'em tyler)

NUMBER TWO: Schrödinger's Tyler

-I'm hoping that once phantompede is taken care of they'll go back to find him. Taylor will force them probably. Cue angst.

-my top theory rn is that if you die in the phantom dimension (PD) you enter a coma in the real dimension (RD) b/c I think it'd be very lame and low stakes for a horror thriller for ty to just wake up fine but in pain.

–unless there's some really NASTY RD consequences like, he starts getting narcolepsy, starts hearing Phantom noises too, constantly sick, slowly wasting away with each day, maybe relives his death every night like some horrid nightmare??? etc

-then of course there's the popular idea that if u die in the PD your body becomes a phantom. who knows how long that takes. could be fun and angsty if it happens rlly fast like while the kids are there and see his body turn into a phantom and they freak the frick out. yeah

and if the phantoms have no retained memories, Tay is just calling to him but it's for naught

-anyway if ty's in a coma that'll be fun to explain to the parents

-If a phantom is killed, their connected person in the RD who was in a coma dies fr

NUMBER THREE: Ashlyn and the Phantoms (cool new band name)

-we know the kids are getting influenced by the PD, making phantom noises (further supports phantoms were people theory) but with Ashlyn's "really strong" connection to the PD, she's in special danger. If one can turn into a phantom without dying, it's gonna be her. Ryan the spy said that "the girl" – assumingly ashlyn– should be "especially" at risk of danger. This could be bc she was the one who interacted with the rift, or bc she already has a higher level of phantom influence on her.

-when ashlyn told the phantom to let go, and her friends to calm down, both times she spoke with a black speech bubble WITH PHANTOM NOISE LINES NEAR IT.

this is different than characters who have also spoken with black bubbles. obviously these have been with threats/malice, but the boys' didn't have the red lines.

These times ashlyn has spoken, the phantom acknowledged her voice, and her friends' spell-like violence trance was broken. Therefore, Theory: ashlyn not only can hear phantoms, but she can speak their language sort of

-depending how the Tyler situation goes down, I think Ashlyn will have lots of guilt and anger towards herself, and if she can't reign it in, I could see her going into a violence trance like her friends did. maybe even worse (a semi phantom transformation??) Cue a fun angsty 'talking her down' moment with the others at best, or full on fighting Phantom!ashlyn at worst

-when ashlyn was born, a phantom like touched her in a blessing/cursing sense which is part of the reason why she can hear phantoms and her strong PD connection

possibly even possession???? seems a bit farther fetched tho

-tldr; i want ashlyn to enter her monster girl era

-The evil gang seems confused why the kids have lasted so long. maybe Ashlyn's PD connection goes both ways. she provides a strong anchor to the RD. Maybe the PD is USUALLY all desolate with the pillars that we saw in the finale (maybe it's even an afterlife of sorts?), but Ashlyn makes a huge radius (~30 miles! (assuming kids were driving at least 60mph for 30 minutes)) of the PD around where she wakes up mirror the real world, creating a safer space for her and the kids. meanwhile a normal person that gets sucked into the PD gets thrown into a desolate hell world different from the RD (also maybe stuck there permanently), causing them to die much quicker.

-Ashlyn's influence extends to jamming the recording devices like some kind of weird phantom static.

-Broke: Ashlyn's parents wanted her to learn self defense and have a knife bc they're in the military. Woke: they want her to be able to protect herself after the phantom scare when she was a baby

NUMBER FOUR: Origami gang and Co INC.

-My Current idea on what the evil gang is doing: The gangs symbol is an origami crane (orizuru). the crane in East Asia has longevity as one of its symbolisms, with some myths saying it flies souls up to paradise. there's the popular myth that if you fold 1000 cranes you get a wish.

Heres where the evil twist comes in. The gang boss believes that if he traps 1000 people in the PD as like, a sacrifice, then he'll get a wish and he'll ask for eternal life or whatever. this gang is a cult and he's tricked everyone saying that they'll also get a long life but really it's probably only gonna be him 🤫 So they go around to different haunted places in America and pick ppl they sense can open these shadow rifts and get sucked in. the phantoms may be ppl they trapped in the past and they've turned into phantoms

-Ryan, the guy who's spying on the kids, maybe is ALSO "Mr. thomas"? he just puts on a wig and is a good actor lol. this is the reason why he asks about "Mr. Thomas's" fate. What goes against this is that Ryan seems to know all about the PD mechanisms, which doesn't fit Mr. Thomas being confused abt ashlyns hair. Unless he wasn't expecting it

– or "Mr thomas" could just be Ryan's friend or brother or smn. A low ranked guy in the gang that got stuck with roping Ashlyn into Savannah, but doesn't know the truth/details about the PD.

-the gang mentions that "both sides" are trying to track them. either the government and a supernatural hunting group, or even some force in the PD like some Alpha Phantom like the devil who's like "Where's my dead people quota hello?" or better yet "you're messing with MY domain and I'm gonna Get You".

-This is based solely on the Boss' appearance and smiling countenance: what if the gang Boss is Aiden's uncle, his dad's brother. his weird, estranged brother who's also evil probably. I'm really hung on this idea don't mind me. Maybe it's b/c we don't know his name yet, b/c he's secretly related and it'll be a big reveal

-you have to be able to make a paper origami crane from memory to be an official gang member /hj

(S2 spoilers) NUMBER FIVE: Aiden's dyed hair and why it's A Big Deal

none of these have any solid evidence I'm just wildin

-He hates his natural hair color/thinks it's ugly

-doing it to hide his real identity (IF the Clark family being involved with the Origami gang is real it would probably fall under this, BUT I have strong reason to believe Aiden is not involved with the gang tho. (See my ~EXCEL SHEET~ for my reasoning)

–falls under my random "gang boss is aidens uncle" theory. his uncle is the weird black sheep of the family, that Aiden has a spitting resemblance to, so he dyes his hair to make him look less like him

further developing my silly Boss Uncle idea but I'm imagining that Daniel (Adiens dad) married into the family bc he looks sm different than his wife or Ben's parents. But when he married Jessica (Aidens mom) at the start they used his surname, had Aiden, etc. Then Daniel's weird (evil) brother starts committing Crimes tm, possibly even convicted, jail time, all over the news (maybe he got out early cuz of parole, good behavior idk). Aidens family suffers for it by proxy; Aiden is bullied, his parents are stigmatized at work. it actually gets so bad that they decide to switch to Jessica's maiden name Clark. Currently wondering if Ben's dad, William, and Jessica are the siblings here. anyway they do that and with their constant moving and traveling, it's easy to embrace the new identity. But Aiden was still pretty affected by it being a kid and all so that's why he dyes his hair, and plays it off as doing it for funsies

-based on claims (if someone has proof of this beyond his skin tone HMU) I've seen that he's part Asian, so maybe has suffered really nasty racism in the past but when he's blond he's white passing, so he does it so he's not bullied anymore

-blondes have more fun to help with this "constantly happy" persona he has

– semi related, he's heavily masking depression and loneliness, and the bright yellow hair makes him happier.

-he dyes his hair for attention bc he didn't get enough of it as a child with his parents traveling and working

Actually-!

NUMBER FIVE ½: Aiden's backstory

after seeing the Easter egg, wondering if his mom divorced or died idk cause the lady in the picture doesn't look like his mom, her hair is darker?? now ofc she could just be dying her hair too idk!!!

Absolutely Wildin' here but maybe aidens parents died when he was a kid so he was adopted but surprise! his dad is still alive and is a criminal and running a shadow cult. or maybe the boss is still his uncle. or maybe the boss is his parent(s) killer!!!

Or Maybe The Boss is aidens dad. Aidens biological mom died and the Boss went crazy and probably committed crimes and went to jail, and then Daniel (aidens uncle, Boss' brother) and Jessica took custody of him. and then the Boss escaped jail and started his cult, maybe to bring back his wife

kinda off topic but I'm wondering if Aiden's red eyes are fake too. colored contacts. like neither of his parents have it, no one does. does he just have Protagonist syndrome or is it related to one of the ideas above?

I'm just throwing darts. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

NUMBER SIX: Character arcs and futures

-either no other of the kids will "die", just Aiden and Ashlyn will "survive", or everyone except Ashlyn will "die"

-but i hope if they can sever their connection with the PD, anyone who dies in the PD and gets in a coma will wake up

-So they're gonna get kidnapped. that's definitely gonna be a thing. either mid S2 or S2 ending. up in the air whether the kidnapping is successful or not.

actually I'm placing my bets now S2 finale will be them getting kidnapped and it just cuts off there for another awful cliffhanger.

since it seems Mr thomas will be involved, maybe he'll ask the kids to stay after school to talk abt their failing grades or smn, and then maybe they're hit with knockout gas??

OR the gang has been spying on them so they pick a time when the kids are all separated and jump them.

maybe this is when aiden knowing where ashlyns dance studio is is actually plot relevant!!??(please) like he (and Ben probably cuz they're always together) are able to escape their attackers and Aiden goes to help ashlyn cuz he wants to make sure she's OK. and she's either fine cuz she's a girl boss and can kick butt, or he saves her oo la la

–lol imagine kidnapping is successful, gang tells kids why they were kidnapped, if Evil Boss Uncle theory is true this helps facilitate this but Ashlyn "goes off" on Aiden yelling and "attacking" him and stuff saying he's part of the gang etc but it's all a ruse to have the gang think she'll cause another energy spike and Aiden gets this and plays along, so assuming the kids are locked up, the gang opens their cell to stop ashlyn, and that's when they escape

–also assuming the gang would be smart enough to get rid of the kids phones when they're snagged.

-also SPOILER ALERT if you haven't seen Reds ig stories but since they just had midterms it's probably October (bc the story started at the beginning of the school year (August) and there was a month skip (September) where they were learning self defense) Which Means that it could be Aidens bday which is why ashlyn is at his house and they're having a pizza party or whatever yippee! (i want this) And maybe Mr and Mrs Clark talk about seeing phantoms (the panel of them looking stressed the heck out lol) bc I'm assuming all the guardians have been seeing them I'm assuming!!!! And maybe Ashlyn overhears, and the kids Finally can tell the parents what's going on but I doubt it. b/c that'd be too easy y'know?

-regardless, the either failed or successful kidnapping will probably set the parents over the edge, Especially if Ty is in a medically unexplainable coma, and Mike Banner will be like "tell me what's going on Right Now" and the parents believe them and they help the kids get to Savannah yippee!! a cool Big family squad force they all hop on a working school bus or smn and drive there. (I wish i knew how many seasons there's gonna be so I could predict pacing but since it's a thriller I'm assuming pretty fast, so maybe 3 seasons? cuz while we got a fast plot we seemingly have a slow ashlyn & aiden relationship so 🤷‍♀️)

Sorry back to character arcs:

Ashlyn: Learn to trust and connect with people, make friends, lean on others. Could be nice if she accepts and admits the kids are her friends by the end of S2, leaving the next season for Aiden/Ashlyn dev specifically. More development about her connection with the PD, which could put friendship to the test.

Taylor: will either shut down with grief like her mom, or maybe snap and have an Edgy arc (seems… unlikely to me tho she seems too emotionally intelligent for that). NEVERMIND with all the stuff im seeing, it seems likely!!!) Willing to bet money the twins are unhealthily codependent on each other. Maybe she'll start latching onto Ben instead (whether anything romantic develops on top of it is debatable, but I can see it. theyve already got a cute little closeness going on). Would not be surprised if, after losing her dad (which im predicting was a suicide) and Ty, she can't stand the thought of losing someone else, and will save someone in danger at her own expense, leading to her death. Sure I'll predict she'll die 2nd if there are more deaths.

Tyler: he frikkin ded so… (would've been nice to see him become even more caring but yknow)

Logan: Seems to be overcoming his fragility well if the arcade scene is any indication. Still has self-worth issues to overcome due to his parents' abandonment. Maybe we'll learn more about that in S2. That could be a rumor and the real reason he lives with his grandparents is that his parents died but idk why that'd be hidden unless their death was suspicious (phantom related???). He'll die 3rd; survives longer than expected but is the halfway point.

Ben: Still needs to find a new passion for life, i suspect playing musical instruments like the guitar will be the answer (thank you tyler). Tho maybe learning to love his altered voice could happen? (tons of dudes have a rough/husky singing voice that ppl love) But this is probably unlikely.

– Taylor and Logan's deaths will hit him really hard, maybe feels like his strength is worthless if he failed to keep the others safe, and starts spiraling real bad. Possible phantom transformation or attempted suicide. 4th to die.

Aiden: (get medicated) Learning self-control, improving interpersonal relationships, accepting serious/negative emotions, along with God knows what else will be revealed.

– Kinda wondering if he grew up in a "toxic positivity" mentality home, where his parents are like "we're so privileged we shouldn't complain"

– IF he does die, he'll be the last one, leaving Ashlyn alone (when it hurts the most!!! muhahhaha!!! 😭), and it won't happen in S2.

NUMBER SEVEN: Miscellaneous predictions, wants, musings & hypotheticals

-hey uh what about the photo Logan took of the phantom back at the sorrel-weed house?? surely he still has it? can he show the parents?? will they be able to see it?

-Logan saw the whole Aidlyn hug from the roof from his snipper position, change my mind.

-Another death will happen in S2, possibly even two deaths.

-Mr thomas switches sides and helps the kids, gives them info

-Ryan (the spy) switches sides and helps the kids

-the tour lady Jasmine and the Boss are a hot evil couple

also kinda want them to have a Rourke & Helga dynamic where he throws her under the bus at the last moment and she's Bissed

-I want the boss to die by his own evil plan. i doubt a redemption arc will happen but I'd be down for it if done well.

-*grabs your shoulders until they bleed* listen. Aiden saved ashlyn, now I need her to save him. I need this.

-Taylor and Ashlyn girl time please!!!

-Logan and Aiden becoming closer would also give me joy. big Freckle and Rocky energy.

-Consider: Ashlyn says that she thinks Aiden looks better with dark hair, not meaning it as a compliment but as an objective statement, but he decides to grow out his dark hair again (will take a bit).

-this doesn't have to happen but I think it'd be really funny if Aiden somehow gets the IDEA that Logan has a crush on Ashlyn when Logan doesn't, causing a stupid silly short jealousy arc.

-actually I really need a "can skydive from 10,000 ft but can't confess to the girl he likes" Aiden Clark

which like would make sense bc at this point he knows she thinks he's annoying, pushy, etc., so that's just asking for a rejection

-I've got a bad feeling smn will happen to Ashlyn's parents, specifically her dad

-you know what's better than Ashlyn having to be a girlboss and face the villains alone? Aiden and Ashlyn going together and Aiden being used as collateral by the villains :) What if he dies permanently irl, while the rest of the kids, if they died in the PD, reawaken, leaving him the only one permanently gone in the end? :)

-bruh what if everyone died like fr fr. yes I'm imagining Ashlyn looking at all her friends' graves.

-the Origami gang fails to kidnap the kids b/c all that self-defense paid off, and they accidentally create a huge "energy spike", making phantoms appear everywhere in town.

-if the kids DO get kidnapped successfully, I want Ashlyn to be an awesome girlboss and use her knife shoes to help them escape.

-if my puppy fic became Canon that'd be swaggie actually.

-let Ashlyn have a dog 2023

-pov you're in Georgia in the fall and a hurricane hits, knocking out solar power for a few days. what then? :)

-when all this garbage is over and they hopefully all live in the end, I want them to have a fun stargazing party lead by Logan cause they can finally enjoy the night (And maybe aidlyn have their first Kiss?? 🙈)

-If there ISNT a "group goes to see Ashlyn in a ballet performance" scene then I'm WRITING IT MYSELF

-the kids are like, juniors right? Prom.

-Aiden works hard to get his permit and his parents buy him a car but it's a crappy one cause they know he'll wreck it but hey it's Savannah or Bust.

-At the end of all things, Aiden and Ashlyn will become a couple, or at least have reciprocal romantic feelings. This is not just my shipper heart talking. I feel it in my brain, in my soul. (b/c Red rlly seems to ship it so 😏)

-maybe aidens parents work for a religious missionary aid group like Samaritans purse

-a kid going into an angry protective phantom mode to protect another(s) 😳 (aidlyn on the brain but it could be anyone)

-if I had a nickel for every time I've imagined Aiden dying in Ashlyn's arms, I'd have many nickels

-what if having a good singing voice ran in Ben's family? haha jkjk…unless??? but they don't sing like ever cuz they don't want Ben to feel bad

-man what if a kid died by a phantom pushing them down a set of stairs..

-Rlly hope that Aiden's parents don't get scared seeing phantoms in their house and hearing other families having phantoms in THEIR houses and thinking the whole town is haunted, and they consider moving which they don't wanna do bc Aiden finally has friends but what else can they do!? angst.

-John 15:13 for Ashlyn with the others except it's not permanent (I'm not saying ash is a Jesus figure tho WHWKEJEJDJ)

-I rlly wanna see ashlyn laugh like REALLY LAUGHING

That's it for the moment (●'◡'●) thanks for coming

will any of these be canon? who knows! it's the fun of it all

#school bus graveyard #school bus graveyard webtoon #sbg #theories #sbg thoughts master post #bear with me and all my silly ashlyn/aiden thoughts sprinkled in there #long freakin post

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