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nikethestatue · 3 months

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A Match Baked In Heaven

Chapter XII

The Moan

“I want buns of steel. But also, buns of cinnamon,” Elain Archeron muttered, as she pulled out a pan of cinnamon buns from the oven. It was a strange choice, but this was Feyre’s favourite treat, and Elain felt that she owed it to her sister on her birthday.

Elain was running late. But there was a lot to do.

Feyre had changed her mind at the last minute, and they weren’t going to a Moroccan restaurant anymore. Instead, the restaurant was catering, the party was at Feyre’s loft, and Elain was tasked with making desserts. And there were thirty people invited, though with Feyre’s friends, it was quite possible that many more would drop by.

Now, Elain was running behind. She had to make a cake too, because Feyre requested her cake, and not one from a bakery. Elain was pretty proud of the cake, though she had no idea how she was going to transport it and carry it, but she wasn’t concerned about the logistics right now.

“Piglet, you are being very rude,” she told her pug. Predictably, she received no response.

As she mixed icing sugar, lemon juice and double cream for the icing, she continued, “That’s fine. It’s entirely up to you if you want to play introvert today. However, don’t expect treats then. You can’t be a glum introvert and still want treats.”

To that, Piglet expanded a mournful moan.

“No,” Elain said. “I don’t even know if you’ll get your Advent Calendar treat today. Unless daddy wants to give it to you, don’t count on me.”

Piglet looked sadly at his calendar, sniffling and barking weakly.

In about ten minutes, he raised his head, but didn’t get up. But Elain knew why–because in the next moment, the doorbell rang.

God she was running really, really late!

Wiping her hands with a towel, Elain fluffed up her hair–she wasn’t even sure why she was doing that–and went to the door.

When she opened it she was faced with not one, not two, but three men.

Three giant men. They looked wild, and dangerous, and beautiful. Not the men of this age or this time. They seemed ancient and powerful, like the warriors of old.

Not to say that they were dressed in armour or anything.

In fact, all three were wearing identical black suits, which probably cost as much as a downpayment for a house, and white shirts, open to various lengths on their brown, muscular chests.

Elain whooshed out a breath.

Her lady parts did a funny squeezie-squeeze, especially at the sight of Azriel Night, whose dark golden skin contrasted gorgeously with the white shirt and the black tattoos that snaked from under the collar of his shirt.

“Gentlemen,” she said at last. “Please, come in.”

“Ready for us, beautiful?” Azriel smiled and winked at her.

“Yeah, all three of you…”

Initially, Azriel self-invited himself to be Elain’s date to the birthday party. That was followed by him telling her that he’d be bringing Rhysand as well, since Rhysand needed to be introduced to Feyre. But, apparently, Cassian was also ready to party, since he was standing right here, smirking and looming over everything and everyone.

“Brothers, let me introduce you properly,” Azriel announced, once they were inside. “Lady Elain Archeron, my future wife and the future mother of my children.”

“Ohmygod,” was all Elain managed to breathe, her eyes wide and her cheeks red.

Cassian chuckled under his breath.

“Az is mental. Don’t mind him,” Cassian waved his hand, as he shouldered his way in.

He was strikingly handsome in a rough, lumberjack-chic kind of a way. Big. At least 6”6. He was probably a Viking or something like that in the past life. A Fae General. A chieftain, who’d smear himself in paint and fight the enemies with all sorts of terrifying weapons. He looked mighty fine in his bespoke suit, but it seems like all these modern trappings were little more than a nuisance to him, and he’d be just as comfortable in some fighting leathers.

“Hi Elain!” he boomed, looking around and whistling softly. “Nice digs, Lady. I’ve seen castles that aren’t as fancy as this. Is it too late for me to become a matchmaker?”

Elain smiled and he pulled her in for a quick hug.

“You are my future sis-in-law apparently!”

“Oh god, Cassian, not you too!” she moaned.

“Step aside, Lothario,” Azriel hissed at him and Cassian laughed.

“I’d be worried too. He knows I am irresistible to the ladies,” he announced proudly.

“I am positive that Lady Elain can resist you.”

With that, the third man, a lithe, tall, slender, muscular specimen, with an aristocratic bearing, a bit of a posh sneer, and an impressively beautiful face, pushed past Cassian and then gently took Elain’s hand and brought it to his lips.

“Lady Elain Archeron. Allow me to introduce myself. Rhysand Darling.”

“Just Elain,” she told him, but curtsied nevertheless, adding, “Lord Darling.”

He smiled. He reeked of elegance and good breeding.

“I’ve been looking forward to meeting the woman who’s bewitched my surly brother.”

“I am not surly,” Azriel threw with a frown.

Elain reached for him and then took Azriel’s hand in hers.

“He is alright,” she approved, smiling at him. “He’s grown on me.”

“I believe you know my mother and my sister,” Rhysand commented, as he clasped his hands behind his back and circled the formal living room and the parlour, admiring the art on the walls.

“Kandinsky,” he muttered to himself.

“I do,” Elain confirmed. “Lady Selene and the Duchess are members of the Women’s Institute, as are my sisters and I.”

“Wait, what?” Cassian gaped at the two of them. “You know each other? You know Selene?”

“We circulate in the same places,” Elain said vaguely.

Scowling, Azriel growled, “Yeah, with the Queen, right?”

“Her Majesty was a member of the Institute as well. The Sandringham Chapter to be precise,”

“You met the Queen?” Cassian gawked at her like she suddenly started juggling fire balls.

“Elain is a Lady,” Azriel said with a sigh, looking somehow depressed about it.

Elain held his hand in hers and gently rubbed her thumb over his pulse. When Azriel looked at her, she was smiling at him and that smile managed to calm him down somehow. Like Elain didn’t care about the difference in their upbringing, and she liked him for…him.

So Azriel smiled back at her and then whispered, “you aren’t even ready yet.”

“I’ve been baking.”

Azriel smiled excitedly and said, “I can’t wait to eat it! You know, matchy….Ours, is a match baked in heaven.”

“You are so ridiculous, I love it!” Elain stared at him, but then couldn’t help but laugh.

“I am not ridiculous! I am right,” he argued.

“Where is the little beastie with the bows?” Cassian looked around, seeking out Piglet.

Azriel frowned and also twisted his head this way and that way.

“Where is little matey?”

Elain pursed her lips and then pointed to the sofa in the family room.

“There he is. Being dramatic.”

And after a pause, added, “and RUDE! We have guests, and you are being absolutely rude!”

Azriel rushed to the pug.

Piglet was still dressed in his onesie, laying on the sofa arm, unmoving.

Depressed Piglet

“Pinky, my lovie, what’s wrong?” Azriel cooed, stroking the pug’s back.

Piglet didn’t move and just lay there listlessly, his little short legs draped over the sofa arm. Azriel nosed into his back and whispered, “what’s wrong? Daddy is home. I’ll take care of my boy.” He then picked Piglet up and cradled him to his chest.

“He is depressed,” Elain threw, while Rhysand watched Azriel fuss over the dog with amusement.

“Depressed?!?!” Azriel gasped. “Why? What made him depressed?”

Elain crossed her arms on her chest, and said, her voice laced with disappointment.

“We went to the vet today: to get Piglet’s longevity shots. It was a substitute vet–not his usual one–so he gave him a check up too.”

“Is he okay?” Azriel exclaimed in fright. “Is he sick?!”

Rhysand snorted a laugh at Azriel’s reaction. Azriel didn’t even look at him, while flipping him the bird.

“Whoa, is the doggo okay?” Cassian also asked, worried.

“He is fine. But the vet said that he is,” she took a piece of paper off the counter, and read out loud, “mildly anxious, highly spirited, overweight, overall well-adjusted, but with an extreme case of separation anxiety.”

As she repeated the diagnosis, Piglet released a tragic howl, before burrowing into Azriel’s neck.

“And he’s been like this ever since we came back.”

Azriel rocked Piglet back and forth in his embrace, kissing the top of his head.

“Don’t listen to the stupid vet. You aren’t overweight. You are just plump. And that’s okay. You are built for feed, not speed.”

Rhys laughed again, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of the scene.

“And it’s okay to have separation anxiety. I am anxious every time I am separated from Ellie. And from you.”

“What exactly are longevity shots?” Rhys asked, cocking his head.

“They are illegal!” Elain announced proudly.

“Illegal?”

“Yes. They are stem cell shots. Not legal here. But I am not having my dog die–ever. So he gets his longevity shots every six months.”

“Must be a pricey enterprise?”

“It is. Three thousand a pop. And I don’t care. It’s worth it.”

“Worth it,” Azriel agreed, and then gently pulled Piglet away from his neck and looked into his big, sad eyes.

“Baby boy, do you want to go to a party?” he asked. “Do you want to be the star? You'll wear the nicest outfit and you’ll have so much fun there. Everyone will be loving on you. What do you say?”

Piglet sniffled, clearly needing more encouragement.

“There will be snacks,” Cassian added.

“Yes. And cake. And maybe chicken nuggies! They are your faves!”

“He likes chicken nuggets?” Rhys asked, chuckling.

“They are chicken meatballs, but we call them ‘chicken nuggies’,” Azriel explained.

And then, he started signing. And dancing. With Piglet dangling in his hands, Azriel sang to the tune of Jose Feliciano’s ‘Feliz Navidad’:

Please feed the dog

I am so hungry

I don’t wanna starve!

I want a bucket of chicken nuggies!

And a slice of meatloaf

Everyone stared at him, slack-jawed.

“Jesus Mary and Joseph,” Rhys whispered in horrified awe. “Do we need an intervention?”

“Don’t get in between a man and his dog,” Cassian warned.

The dog meanwhile, bobbed his head to the song, finally coming to, and returning to his normal self.

“Did he get snacks today?” Azriel asked Elain. “He looks a little thin.”

“Yeah, he lost 5 kilos because he didn’t have snacks today,” she threw tartly, still displeased with Piglet’s attitude and behaviour.

“Okay, can we at least do the Advent Calendar?” Azriel pleaded, while Piglet slipped from his hands and then trotted happily to the huntboard and got on his hind leg, waiting for his daily treat.

“Oh, really? Now he is ready?” Elain asked dryly, staring Piglet down, who turned away from her and towards a much safer Azriel. And he even sweetened the deal with a smile, grinning at his dad, and showing a full row of his tiny little crooked teeth.

“He is ready!” Azriel announced excitedly, and then there was a whole argument between him and Cassian over who is going to break the slat and take out the treat. Cassian won, because he declared that he ‘never gets to do it, but Azriel gets to do it all the time!’ With that, he broke the seal, took out a small chewable treat shaped like a bone and broke it in half, before Azriel could stop him.

“Oh no!”

“What?” Cassian asked, alarmed, while Piglet crunched on half the snack.

“You don’t understand…it’s dog maths,”

“What?”

With a deep sigh, Azriel explained, “If you break a treat into two, that actually means zero treats. Or, for example, when dinner is at 7 pm, but you serve dinner at 7:02 pm, that means that you are two hours late. Though if you serve dinner at 6 pm, you are also two hours late.

“Anything that is human food is also dog food, but dog food is only dog food. In addition, human food is not counted towards food or snacks, therefore, it could be consumed in unlimited amounts.”

Rhys was shaking with laughter, while Cassian was clearly doing some complex calculations in his head, as he listened to Azriel. He fed Piglet the second part of the treat, and then confirmed, “So this means he did not receive a treat at all?”

“Exactly. A broken treat does not count as a treat.”

“I am adopting dog maths for all my maths,” Rhys decided right then and there.

Elain was watching the brouhaha with a shake of her head, before she asked, “May I count on you three, gentlemen, to undress him, put this tie on him, and then put his coat on.”

She handed Azriel a brown chequered tie and a Burberry jacket for the dog, but he in turn handed it to Cassian and said, “I am going to go help my girl out.”

It’s not that Elain needed help exactly, but she didn’t mind it either. Cassian looked at the dog attire uncertainly, gnawing on his lip, and then told Rhys ‘you are helping’.

“He likes to escape,” Azriel offered helpfully, as he ran after Elain up the stairs.

The moment the other two men were out of sight, he lifted her in his arms and pressed his face into her neck, inhaling deeply.

“I’ve missed my girl,” he murmured, dragging his nose over her jawline, up her cheek, kissing her softly and slowly.

“Azriel,” she moaned into his hair, grabbing the back of his neck.

“Let’s fuck off and not go to the party, send Cass, Rhys and pug, and stay in and fuck?” he proposed, hope shining in his eyes.

She laughed softly and said, “I think my sister might be a bit affronted if I didn’t attend her 25th birthday so I could stay home and fuck, as you put it.”

“Who, Fey? Fey wouldn’t care!” he blew his cheeks, “she is our shipper!”

“What?”

“She ships us hard. Wants us to be together!”

“Is this your dark romance lingo?”

“You should join the dark romance revolution,” he suggested. “You can join our Book Club,”

“Wait, you have a book club?”

“Yes, we do. But shit, you can’t! No girls allowed,” he shrugged apologetically.

“You have an all-men Book Club where you read dark romances?” she asked incredulously.

“Yeah. We are not sexist or anything. We read romances and smut.”

“You just said that no girls are allowed in your Book Club. That’s the definition of ‘sexist’.”

He frowned, thinking, while he deposited her on the floor in their bedroom, and plopped down on the bed himself.

“Oh yeah. Oh, well, a little sexist. But not super sexist.”

“Oh, well, phew. As long as you aren’t super sexist!”

Rolling on his side, and propping his head, he gave her a heated, lascivious look and said,

“Come on, strip, baby. Show me what you are wearing!”

“Since when did our relationship include stripping?” she pondered, as she disappeared in the walk-in closet.

“Not yet, but it should include plenty of stripping,” he decided. “I am all stripping-ready and if you’d like me to, I can strip right now.”

“Oh, no doubt,” Elain didn’t seem surprised.

Downstairs, it seemed that the two humans lost control of the situation pretty quickly. There was banging, suspicious crashing, curses and little claws clacking frantically on the floor. Cries of ‘hold him!’ and ‘shit’ and ‘why is he so fast’ peppered the commotion.

Azriel was smiling, listening to the chaos. He did warn them.

“This? Or this?”

When he glanced at Elain, his jaw dropped. Everything was forgotten.

If the house was on fire, he wouldn't have cared.

Because his naughty Elain came out, holding two hangers in her hands, and wearing nothing but a tiny, lacy, baby blue lingerie set. It hugged her generous form very deliciously and was basically see-through, which made Azriel swallow audibly. He asked for stripping and well, here they were. He could clearly see her full breasts and the pink nipples beneath the gossamer-thin material. And the way her knickers wrapped around the round hips just so…the firm, but ample thighs…

“Nu!” she pressed.

“What?” he asked, looking dazed.

At that point though, Piglet tore through the bedroom. He looked a proper state. Half of his onesie was hanging off his body, and he zoomed wildly around the bedroom, diving under the bed, before emerging and repeating his frantic circle.

From downstairs, they heard Rhys’s disgruntled holler, “What is this dog on?! What’s in the longevity shots? Cocaine?! I bet it’s coke!”

Elain stood there, almost naked, laughing, while Azriel devoured her with his eyes.

Piglet stopped his zooming and gave the situation an assessing gaze, looking whether any serial killers needed sorting out. Having not found any, he gave everyone a victorious bark and then bounded out the bedroom and down the stairs.

“Hold him on the right!” Cassian shouted.

“He is too fast!” Rhys screamed back, “how’s he so fast when he only has three legs!”

“Bribe him with a strawberry or a piece of cheese!” Azriel yelled in turn, not taking his eyes off Elain.

She grumbled, “how many men over 6”5 does it take to dress a three-legged pug?”

Azriel sat up on the bed and whispered, “Come here, baby.”

“Why do I feel like if I do, then we might not be leaving here at all?”

“You might be correct, but maybe, just maybe, if I touch some of these fleshy soft bits,”

“WHAT? Fleshy soft bits??” she gasped incredulously, while Azriel’s very long arm wrapped around her hips and he pushed her closer.

“Such,” he kissed her, in fact, soft belly, “fine,” another kiss right below her breast, “fleshy,” and his lips landed on the side of her waist, where it curved sensually and where he licked a path down to her hip, “soft,” and he lightly bit the spot just above the lacy band of her underwear, “bits,” and he inhaled so hard with his face against the mound of her sex that a satisfied, raw groan of pleasure reverberated deep within his chest.

Elain almost fainted, when suddenly, he wrapped his mouth over the lips of her pussy, biting them gently through the material of the underwear.

“My god,” she gasped, not knowing whether to push him away, or to pull his face closer and into her slit.

He dragged his tongue against the seam of her folds, and muttered hoarsely, his voice rough and harsher than usual, “do you know how much I’ve dreamt about eating your pussy? How much I want to watch you coming on my tongue?”

“My god, Azriel,” Elain managed to growl out, while he filled his huge palms with the flesh of her round ass cheeks. His thumbs stroked her skin, while he kissed her thighs, around her belly button, before gladly sinking his teeth into her breast and biting her nipple.

“I will be your god, my beautiful Elain,” he promised. “Once I make you come, you’ll understand the definition of ‘my god’.”

“So confident.”

“Oh I am.”

He pulled back a bit, and told her, “Gotta confess. A nice bare pink pussy is my kryptonite.”

“I suppose I fit the bill then?”

“You do. You always do.”

She picked up the two dresses that she had dropped on the floor and showed them to him again.

One was a wintry, knit dress, which no doubt, would look mighty fine wrapped over her form. The other, was a much more formal dress, in some ways sculptural, made of some type of heavy satin. It was cream, tailored and spectacular.

“This is more practical,” Elain said, lifting the knit dress. “I can wear it with tall boots and I think it would look nice,”

“No,” he said flatly.

“No?”

“You aren’t going to look ‘nice’. You’ll look stunning. ‘Nice’ is not for Elain Archeron. It’s not for my girl.”

She bit her lip adorably, considering his words, while he was watching her like a hungry hound.

“I do have these shoes that I’ve been dying to wear, but they are open and it’s December.”

“Bring the shoes,” he ordered simply. “You’ll put them on there.”

“Okay,” she agreed, though it didn’t seem like she needed a lot of encouragement.

…Downstairs, Cassian had Piglet in some kind of MMA headlock, while Rhysand was attempting to put the jacket on the pug.

Small wins: they succeeded in taking the onesie off. And Piglet had a tie around his neck, even if it was all skewed.

The jacket was proving to be a challenge.

“You two seriously cannot be trusted with a dog,” Azriel lamented, watching the pathetic display.

“Fuck, Elain,” Cassian gasped. “You look…wow. You look really beautiful.”

Azriel immediately wrapped a possessive, proprietary arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him.

“Thank you, Cassian,” Elain smiled and then snapped her fingers.

With frightening ease, Piglet broke out of Cassian’s hold, showing that he was just indulging them and that they never stood a chance. He also grabbed the jacket out of Rhys’s hands and trotted to Elain, handing it to her.

“Are you going to be a good boy tonight?” she asked, as she dressed him in about 47 seconds. “It’s Aunt Fey’s birthday and you have to be nice to her. She’ll want to give you hugs,” at that Piglet sighed, “and you have to give her hugs.”

Piglet led the charge, and when he saw Dev and Dev asked to ‘shake’, he shook with him. Azriel was carrying the birthday cake, internally freaking out. That was a heavy responsibility. Rhysand was charged with carrying the cinnamon buns and the pastries. Somehow, Cassian ended up without a task, however, once they piled into the car, he was responsible for holding Piglet in his lap. Elain carried and touched nothing other than her purse.

“Camden then?” Dev confirmed with Elain.

“Yes,” Elain nodded, sandwiched between Azriel and Rhysand, and feeling a bit overwhelmed by the amount of testosterone in the car. The most amorous sensations came from Azriel’s side, whose scent she wanted to drown in. The heat of body, the muscular arm that pressed into hers, the very sight of his gorgeous throat which she wanted to kiss and lick and bite had her squirming in her seat, pressing her thighs together. Azriel gave her a side glance and smirked.

“You feeling okay, baby?” he asked lightly.

“Oh, just splendid!” she assured him tartly.

“You sure? You seem a bit squirmy there,”

“Oh, quite positive. Just setting in,” she offered him a fake smile.

“Anything I can do to help you? Settle in, that is?”

“Doing okay on my own,”

“It would seem so. Perhaps you’ve been doing it on your own for a bit too long…and might require a helping hand after all?”

Cassian squinted at them, stroking Piglet’s head, looking absolutely and hysterically ridiculous holding a dressed up pug. Elain kept averting her eyes from the two of them, because she knew that she was about to burst into laughter.

“Is this some kind of sex talk?” Cassian asked suspiciously.

Rhys smiled a brief smile, and it occurred to Elain that nothing much escaped this man.

“Ellie doesn’t do sex talks,” Azriel told him.

“Hmmm…sounds like sex talk,” Cassian insisted. “Will there be girls at this party?”

“Quite a few,” Elain nodded.

“Okay, maybe I’ll hook up with someone.”

“You are not going there to hook up!” Rhys warned him.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not an American frat party where you are going to be shagging someone in an empty bedroom. We are going to a birthday party. And we weren’t even invited!”

“I was invited,” Azriel argued.

“Technically, you weren’t,” Rhys argued. “You are going as Elain’s date.”

“Oh.”

“Then what am I?” Cassian wondered.

“Piglet’s date,” Elain joked. “Listen, it’s fine. You were all technically invited. Feyre wanted to meet everyone. She is quite taken with Azriel already. I am sure you’ll impress her as well. Now, impressing my older sister Nesta might be a little more difficult.”

“Oh yeah?” Cassian instantly leaned forward, as if the challenge of impressing Nesta intrigued him.

“Nesta is…complicated,” was all Elain said.

“Is she as beautiful as you?” Cassian queried.

Elain got all adorably pink and flustered and Azriel gave his brother an unimpressed look.

“Nesta is very attractive,” Azriel growled, stroking the side of Elain’s neck with his thumb. “But no one is as beautiful as Elain.”

Elain lit up like a Christmas tree at his words, blushing and smiling and trying to hide, but he only kissed her temple and held her closer.

When Rhysand heard ‘Camden’ he did not expect this. He wasn’t exactly a Camden type of a person, so he wondered if he’d stick out like a sore thumb in the Camden crowd. He was an Old Etonian. But when they arrived, he breathed a sigh of relief and reminded himself that the Archerons weren’t exactly poor. They stopped next to a sprawling refurbished industrial building. It was old London brick–dark and dirtied with age, which gave it character. There were a couple of huge windows, now brightly lit up, and behind the house was a canal and a little dock. This was nice.

Cassian got out first, and Piglet confidently trotted to the door and barked, announcing his arrival. Azriel was last, holding on that cake like his life depended on it. Rhysand smiled. Azriel was such a good boyfriend. Who would’ve thought? But he turned out to be the exemplary boyfriend, who was utterly obsessed with Elain. To an unhealthy degree, in Rhys’s opinion. Azriel already marked his body permanently with all things Elain. If this didn’t go well and ended in a way that Azriel wasn’t expecting, well…it would get messy. Hearts would be broken. Dreams would be shattered. Tattoos would have to be removed or covered up…

The door opened and a tall, very slim woman stood in front of them. That she was Elain’s sister was obvious. But her face was sharper, the eyes a steely grey-blue, long golden brown hair tied into a no-nonsense chignon at the nape of her neck. She wore a simple pearl-grey dress, well-tailored, but without frills, and a huge diamond and emerald brooch, a la the late Queen.

For a moment, she just stood there, assessing them all with an unflinching gaze.

“Are you Nesta?” Cassian suddenly stepped forward, his attention wholly on the willowy, busty beauty in front of him.

“You are late,” she said instead, ignoring him.

“We aren’t!” Elain argued. “The party doesn’t start until six and we have plenty of time to prepare.”

Cassian wasn’t deterred and announced, “I am Cassian!”

“Congratulations,” Nesta said. Then, she asked Elain, “What is this? A reverse harem?”

Before the confused Elain could answer, Cassian asked excitedly,

“Oh, a fellow reverse harem lover?! Very nice. What’s your favourite book?”

Nesta gave him a puzzled, but intrigued look, while he continued, undeterred,

“Mine is “The Kings’ Wife’! What’s yours?”

“‘Forget-Me-Not Bombshell’,” she answered flatly, surprising everyone. “Obviously.”

“Obviously.”

Behind Nesta, they heard an excited voice, and an exclamation, “Elain, this cake!!! Oh my goddess! It’s crazy beautiful!! Piggy! Come…Come! Give me hugs! Come to me, my good boy.”

Piglet muscled his way between the sea of legs, and hopped towards the birthday girl, being a good boy, just like he promised.

She sat on the floor and accepted him in her arms, taking off his coat.

“Welcome everyone!” she said loudly.

“Thank you for having us,” Rhys said ahead of everyone. He wasn’t sure why.

And then, her eyes landed on him.

Feyre. What a name.

A gently lovely girl, with blue eyes and brown hair, and a scattering of visible freckles all over her nose and cheeks. Not a beauty like Elain. Not as striking as Nesta. And yet…

“I’ve heard your voice,” she suddenly said, her luminous eyes firmly planted on Rhys’s face.

“Pardon?” he stuttered.

“It was like you called me,” she continued, “and I heard you. Your voice. Across the hills, calling me. I think it was in a dream,” she laughed nervously. “But your voice was very distinctive.”

“Well, then I am glad that I am the man of your dreams. Literally.”

At that, Feyre laughed, but it was nervous, as if there was a grain of truth in his voice.

Rhys continued,

“Happy birthday, Feyre darling.”

She got up from the floor, still holding the pug. Piglet looked between the two of them with a smug look on his squished face. Like he knew something they didn’t.

“Are you Rhysand?” she asked shyly.

“I am Rhysand,” he confirmed. “You’ve heard of me?”

“I have. Apparently, I’ve also heard you. Welcome.”

Like her sisters, Feyre also wore a plain dress, of deep dark blue velvet. It was simple, but form-fitting, exposing her elegant neck. She didn’t wear any jewellery and at that, Rhys smirked and reached into his jacket pocket. He stepped closer to the birthday girl, ignoring all the curious stares from his brothers and her sisters, and then took out a flat black box and handed it to her.

“For you.”

Feyre blushed prettily and looked up at him from under her long lashes.

“A gift? For me?” she repeated, taking the box from him.

“A pretty gift for a pretty girl,” he smiled, smoothly opening the lid and suddenly taking out a…crown. A diadem.

Nesta stared at the gift, and so did Cassian, and even Azriel, with complete astonishment.

It was a delicate band of white gold, shaped like a branch, studded in places with tiny diamonds and lapis lazuli.

“A crown for the lady.”

Rhys smiled at Feyre, whose eyes were as big as saucers and then gently placed the diadem upon her head, effectively crowning her.

“Well, now it’s perfect.”

“I…my…I can’t…” Feyre began to babble frantically, but Rhys only offered an indulgent smile and said, “of course you can. Now, did you know that Piglet loves me and allowed me to dress him?” he lied.

“Oh no way! Really?!” she exclaimed, totally falling for his bullshit. “He could be so standoffish. And if he wants to zoom…well, then you can’t even catch him!”

“No?! You don’t say?” Rhys pretended to be shocked, while offering her his arm.

She took it easily, still clutching Piglet to her, her eyes never leaving Rhys’s face.

“May I tell you something?” she requested.

“Well, of course! What is it?”

“I think that you are the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” she gushed. “And I thought that Azriel was handsome,”

“Well, he is another pretty face for sure. But not as pretty as mine,” Rhys winked at her, and they disappeared inside the huge loft, joking and laughing.

“Did he just give her a tiara?” Nesta questioned in disbelief.

“Yeah…who needs soup when you can just get a tiara,” Elain agreed.

Turning abruptly to Cassian, Nesta said, “Help me please.”

“With pleasure,” he grinned.

“I’ll let Elain take her coat off, but please bring the cake into the kitchen,” Nesta commanded, picking up the boxes with buns and pastries, while Cassian lifted the cake.

“Be careful with your bear paws,” she warned him sternly.

“Well, don’t stress me out!” he threw back, and they also disappeared inside the cavernous house, sniping and bickering playfully.

“Well, I don’t know what just happened there,” Azriel twirled his finger in the direction of his brothers, “but something did.”

Feyre’s place was wonderful, though very different from Elain’s. The floors were dark, old wide planks, the walls–exposed brick, shiplap, stucco, there were beams above, and soaring ceilings, impressive windows and all sorts of interesting industrial touches.

“I like our house better,” Azriel decided easily, after he looked around.

Elain smiled at his bluntness, finally taking off her coat. She sat on the arm of the sofa, and unzipped her boots. They were in a small sitting room, where Feyre usually watched TV. Just behind the wall, they heard laughter, clinking of glasses, and the arrival of more guests. Excited compliments of ‘Feyre, look at your tiara!’ ‘Fey are you wearing a crown?!’ ‘Feyre, you are a proper high noble lady’, ‘Should we call you Lady Feyre?’ and so on. They also heard Piglet squealing and galloping around, yelling wawabawa akwakwaka which was his usual call for snacks. Since he was ‘depressed’ earlier today, his snack consumption was quite low compared to his daily snack load.

It was only when Elain turned her head that she gasped and recoiled.

Because Azriel…

He was…

Well…

He was on one knee in front of her.

“Hi,” he smiled at her, seeing her shocked face.

“What…what are you…ohmygod…what are you doing?!”

She was literally hyperventilating.

Clutching the front of her dress, she was gasping like a fish, her face flushed.

“Elain, will you,” he began asking solemnly,

“YES!” she cried out, eyes wild. “Yes,”

“Give me your pretty foot,” he continued nonchalantly, smirking to himself.

“Wait, what?”

“Your foot, pretty girl,” he extended his hand out.

“You don’t want to…” her voice faded into a whisper.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You sure?”

“I am sure,” she hissed.

“So, you don’t want me to ask you to marry you?” he confirmed, while he took her foot and then pulled out her fancy high-heeled open toe pumps from the bag, and slid one on.

“No!” she shouted.

“No need to yell, beautiful,” he told her, working on the complex tie and clasp of the shoe.

On his knees

“I am not yelling,” she pouted.

“So you didn’t get excited when you saw me on one knee?”

“No.”

“Didn’t think that maybe, just maybe I’ll pull a ring out?”

“No!”

“Hmmm. You seem a bit upset, sweetheart.”

“I am not upset,” she folded her arms on her chest, as she bit her lip aggressively, trying to stifle the tears that threatened to fall.

“So you don’t want to marry me?” he pressed.

“No!” she repeated yet again.

“Hmmm,” he gave another annoying hum, and then took her left hand and squeezed her ring finger, before bringing it to his lips and kissing it. “And you don’t want a big diamond ring on this pretty little finger of yours?”

“No!”

“Okay, I am a little sad, as I was planning to stop by Cartier, but if you aren’t interested,”

“You are not going to do it!” she argued petulantly.

He shrugged, “who knows…But seeing as you aren’t interested anyway,”

Quickly she amended, “I am not not interested…”

“Oh no? Because I did think that you looked a bit devastated when you didn’t find me proposing.”

“I am not devastated. I was just surprised,” Elain insisted stubbornly.

He tied her second shoe and then bent to kiss her ankle.

“And if I did, propose that is, what would my Cinderella say to her Prince?”

He wrapped his big, warm hands over her bare legs, rubbing the backs of her knees slowly, as he waited for her answer.

“I don’t know! Can I say ‘yes’ after knowing you for 2 months?”

“You can say ‘yes’ after knowing me for two hours,”

“You called me a cow, and a prissy bird or something like that in the first two hours of our meeting,” she glowered at him.

“You implied that I couldn’t get it up,” he reminded her quickly.

“Ergh, I didn’t mean it,”

“Because I can certainly demonstrate–me getting it up pretty well,” he offered.

“So you keep saying.”

“And you keep denying me the opportunity,” he scolded, before kissing her hand again. “Look at me,” he ordered, and then lifted her chin, so their eyes met. “The truth is, at the end of the day, you are the one person I want to come home to. You are the only person who I want to tell about my day. You are the one who I want to share my happiness with, my sandnes, my frustrations. So, I’ll ask you, Elain Archeron. And you better say yes. Because there is no getting rid of me.”

Elain wiped her tears with her first. She didn’t even know why she was crying. Probably because she loved him. And the thought of him not asking her to be with him forever did in fact, devastate her.

“Why are you crying?” he asked gently.

“I dunno,” she admitted, wiping her tears again.

“You don’t have to cry. I am yours. I am.”

“You don’t have anyone else?”

“Nah…” then he stopped and looked at her guiltily, adding, “Well, I do…” he paused mysteriously and Elain gasped in silent horror.

“You do?!” she exclaimed.

“Yeah…”

“Who is she?”

“Oh, it’s a he,” he said immediately, grinning at her. “He is furry, likes snacks a lot, has three legs, snores and zooms,”

Through her tears, Elain smiled and then pushed him.

“Are you just going to traumatise me for the rest of the night?” she demanded, finally getting up.

“Do you like me on my knees in front of you, Miss Archeron?”

“That’s the least you can do for putting me through all this nonsense,” she looked down at her legs, her sexy shoes, and sighed.

“You are gorgeous. A girl of my dreams,”

“Apparently, that’s Rhys–he is in Feyre’s dreams,” Elain said dryly.

“Yeah, he is the girl of her dreams,” Azriel nodded and then rose up, while Elain laughed.

Cassian sat in an armchair, observing the revelry in front of him. He swirled his whiskey lazily around the tumbler, feeling mellow. He wasn’t exactly drunk, but he was under the influence for sure. It was a good feeling. The party-loving pug had arrived about fifteen minutes ago, definitely also under the influence of something, because he yawned widely and then raised his front paws, asking Cassian to pick him up. It looked like Piglet had decided that Cassian could join his secret and exclusive pug-pack and Cassian was only too happy to oblige. Now, Piglet was snoring blissfully, his head resting on Cassian’s thigh. Taking his pug-protector duties very seriously, Cassian scowled at anyone who attempted to disturb the sleeping pup, and considering his size and general appearance, no one dared to contradict him.

“Hey Nes,” he called out. “Come sit with me.”

Nesta, who was walking by, gave him her typical icy look and snapped, “Don’t call me that.”

“What? Nes?” he smiled playfully. “Alright, sweetheart. Whatever you say.”

He patted the seat next to him. It would be a snuggly fit for the two of them, since he took up so much space.

“What do you want?” she demanded, but he noticed that she didn’t exactly walk away.

“Come, sit with me. I’ll tell you a story.”

“I don’t want stories,”

“Sure you do, my prickly rose.”

“You are overly familiar, Mr. Night,” Nesta sipped her white wine, but Cassian reached out and held out his massive hand to her. And Nesta…Nesta…took it. He pulled her to him gently and she stepped closer, before he wrapped his arm around her waist and to her utter dismay, placed her next to him. Piglet moved onto his side, but didn’t wake up.

“The little beastie is tired,” Cassian murmured, his expression soft.

“What do you want, Mr. Night?” she tried again.

“You remind me of Elain,” he noted simply. “She is mad formal as well.”

“I don’t know you at all!”

“You can find out more. Whatever you want.”

“What do you do?” Nesta asked, squirming next to his massive, muscular body. God he was handsome. Azriel was handsome, hands down maybe the most handsome one out of the three–and that was saying something. Rhysand–not her type, but undeniably beautiful. But this one–objectively, he was probably the least classically handsome, yet to Nesta, he was simply stunning. Everything she didn’t know she liked he possessed. This size of his, the muscles, the strong features, the jet black silky hair tied into a haphazard bun.

“I am a sports agent,” he answered. “What about you?”

“A barrister.”

“I should’ve guessed. Here is what I think, Miss Archeron,”

“What?”

“You are a very successful, very beautiful, very lonely and very misunderstood woman,”

Nesta jolted in her place, her pale face colouring angrily, her brows knitting together at the audacity of his words. His expression remained calm, almost placid, though, unlike Azriel, this wasn’t a placid man. Undeterred he continued, “And I am guessing that you are knocking on 30 pretty soon, and you aren’t very happy with where you are in life. It should’ve been different, right?”

She attempted to get up, but he held her down, and tsked,

“Before you storm away, let me tell you something,”

“Leave me the hell alone!” she snarled. “You uncouth, rude bastard,”

He chuckled.

“Uncouth, huh? Cute. The Archeron girls are adorable. Now, look at them,” he jerked his head towards the crowd. Reluctantly, Nesta followed his gaze, and watched Elain and Azriel seated next to each other on top of the radiator cover, eating what looked like ice cream. Well, he was holding the bowl, but he was feeding Elain, who was licking the spoon, before he dunked it back into the ice cream, and took a swipe himself. She rested her head on his shoulder, both of her hands wrapped securely around his upper arm, holding onto him like she couldn’t let go.

It struck Nesta then–how relaxed Elain looked. Elain was always a little bit tense, unless she was with Piglet. She was especially tense around Eris, always worrying about his opinion, always desperate to please him, always seeking his approval, or a rare compliment. Elain worried about her figure, having been told by their mother that she was chubby and that she’d never get married, because men wanted a slender wife. Elain was insecure, old-fashioned, but bold and entrepreneurial, which made for a confusing combination. But never did Nesta observe Elain looking so…content. Happy. At ease. She held on to that big, tattooed, striking man and only had her eyes for him. It didn’t look like the rest of the world existed for her, because he was the centre of it.

“She is in love,” Nesta breathed, the realisation slamming into her like a hammer.

Azriel was in love, for a long time now, and of that she was sure. But Elain? Elain had fallen too.

Turning abruptly to Cassian, she found him with his hands clasped behind his head, looking mighty satisfied, with a proud smirk on his lips.

“What are you so happy about?” she demanded.

He tsked and said, “I set them up.”

“What are you on about?”

“Without me, they wouldn’t have met! I was the one who contacted her. I was the one who dragged him to meet with her. I was the matchmaker. And look how well I matched them. Now, obviously, this extends to Feyre and Rhys now. If it weren’t for me, they wouldn’t have met either,”

“Hold your horses with them! They just met tonight,”

“And yet he crowned her like she was his lady,” Cassian reminded her.

“Which was weird,”

“Rhys likes big gestures,”

“Alright, fine, what do you want? To quit your job as a sports agent and work with Elain as a Junior Matchmaker?”

At that, Cassian laughed, and woke up Piglet. The dog stretched, yawned and then rolled over and quickly located his ma and dad in the crowd. With a happy yip, he jumped off the chair and ran over to them.

Nesta turned away from Cassian, watching Azriel scoop some ice cream into a soup bowl and let Piglet slurp it all with messy gusto. Nesta knew how much Piglet loved a pup cup, and this was a pup cup on steroids. Elain and Azriel cooed and laughed over their dog, holding hands, watching him, commenting something to each other, and Nesta was struck by another revelation–they were a family. Somewhere along the road, somehow, the three of them formed a family of their own. And Elain was no longer just an Archeron. For almost thirty years, Nesta had her two sisters, and the three Archeron sisters were an unshakable, even somewhat notorious unit. They were regal and beautiful and available and wealthy. They were the Three Sisters. And now…She glanced at Elain again, who was back on the radiator cover, seated with her legs crossed and placed on Azriel’s lap, who held them tightly. Whatever he was saying, was making Elain laugh loudly, her head thrown back. The grouping of empty glasses near her probably played a role as well. But it stung Nesta somewhere deep in her chest. Her beloved sister was no longer hers. Her beloved sister was now beloved by someone else. Elain’s light and softness were well and truly melding with the untamed intensity of Azriel Night.

“The only one I want to matchmake for, is you,” Cassian said firmly. His tone was steady, but he said it in such a manner that Nesta turned to him, looking into his lovely luminous hazel eyes.

“And who are you setting me up with exactly?” she asked, cocking her head.

“Me.”

“You?”

“Me. You and I are going on a date.”

“Excuse me?” she almost choked on her wine.

“Why are you surprised, Nes?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I’ll call you whatever you want me to call you, sweetheart. What do you say? Walk on the wild side? Me and you?” he winked at her.

“You are mad,” he concluded simply.

“Perhaps. Doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want.”

She stood up from the chair, and he didn’t stop her this time. He just looked at her expectantly.

“Fine,” she said tersely.

Cassian smiled.

“I knew you were a smart girl.”

“I am already regretting it,” she warned.

“You won’t have any regrets. Once I am done with you, you’ll be asking for more and more dates.”

“Doubtful.”

“I’ll prove it.”

She threw him a withering glance, and added,

“The only reason I am saying yes to you is because,”

“My blinding handsomeness? All my bulging muscles? My mighty height? Wicked sense of humour? Winning personality?” he offered.

Nesta rolled her eyes and moaned, “Help me Lord. No, ridiculous man.”

“What then? What secret weapon do I possess that totally made you want to go out with me?”

“Piglet trusts you,” she shrugged, like it didn’t mean much.

“Oh…”

“And he doesn’t trust many people. I’ve been watching him. He trusts no one like he trusts Azriel. He even trusts Azriel with Elain! Which is unheard of. He is actually capable of leaving her with Azriel and not hovering like he is surgically attached to her. And when I saw today that he actually sought you out and slept next to,”

“That was the turning point?” Cassian chuckled. “The beastie trusting me?”

“Maybe.”

“That’s good to know. He is my wingman. Now, where the fuck is cake?! Are we cutting or what?”

“It’s a birthday, not a wedding,” Nesta reminded him. Cassian took her by the hand, soliciting a small girlish gasp of surprise from her.

“Yeah…not yet.”

Elain was standing, eating birthday cake, chatting with her old classmate Lucien, who was also one of Feyre’s closest friends. Lucien was also distantly related to Eris, which only confirmed yet again how incestuous their circle actually was. Azriel teased her about it, but he was actually correct in his observation.

Lucien’s been throwing confused glances in Azriel’s direction most of the night, as if trying to figure out who he was to Elain, and what the nature of their relationship was.

But he was too polite to ask, so instead, he joked, “So, when am I going to be set up with someone sexy, smart and successful? What am I, a wet herring?”

Elain laughed.

“All herrings are wet by default,” she told him, “I thought you weren’t interested in matchmaking?”

“I wasn’t. But seeing how well you are doing, I am eager to have you change my mind.”

“Are you ready then?” Elain asked seriously.

A year ago, Lucien was in a very serious car accident, where he lost his eyes in the aftermath. His longtime girlfriend left him shortly afterwards. He’s been devastated ever since, and wouldn’t venture out in any social situations, let alone dates. This was the first time that he decided to attend anything that had more than three guests, and only because he and Feyre went way back.

“I might be. I want to have someone looking at me the way you are looking at him,” and he nodded towards Azriel who was talking in a group of men.

Elain squirmed a bit and blushed at his insinuation.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Eris. Not my business,” he told her quickly.

“Thank you. But Eris hasn’t been in touch for weeks now. It’s nobody’s fault.”

“His loss. Maybe mine as well,” and he looked at her with a longing that made her almost uncomfortable. “But I don’t think it was ever meant to be–you and I.”

“I don’t think so,” she agreed. “We look good on paper. But maybe we don’t work so well as anything but friends.”

“The friendship is good,” Lucien decided, sipping some of his champagne. “Let’s do that. Let’s be friends.”

“And there might be someone of interest who could be a good potential,” Elain murmured thoughtfully, clearly thinking about something.

“Oh yeah?”

“But you’d have to be a client. Formally.”

“At least tell me her name!” he laughed. “What if she has a horrible name!”

“Nuala. How’s that? Can you live with that?”

“Oh. Nuala. I like it!”

“So, if you are serious, then ring me up after New Year’s and we’ll create your profile and will get to work.”

“And you think that this wouldn’t be an impediment?” he asked awkwardly, pointing to his face.

Elain looked at him and said seriously,

“For some, yes. For others, no. If they can’t see beyond the surface and not understand what you bring then it’s probably not a good match. Or a good person.”

Suddenly a familiar, very muscular, very big hand smacked Elain on the ass.

She whipped and hissed at the grinning Azriel. Piglet was at his feet, looking up, also grinning smugly.

Before she could unleash, Azriel quickly explained, “It’s my burden, beautiful. Every man’s burden–the need to smack his lady’s juicy rump whenever we are near it.”

“Oh, is that so!!” she exclaimed, while Lucien hid his smile in his champagne flute.

“Listen,” Azriel said somberly, like he was being serious. “It’s not easy. It’s not easy to have these…urges. You think I want to walk around, see your gorgeous arse, and be overcome by an intolerable need to slap it? And then I have to trudge and actually, you know, do it! Slap your yummy buns.”

“Yummy buns?!?!?”

“Oh goodness…” Lucien laughed. “I think I shall leave you two alone to discuss!”

“Not until you tell her that it’s an uncontrollable urge that all men suffer from?” Azriel insisted, wrapping his arm around Elain’s waist.

“Most of us do,” Lucien confirmed. “Not everyone acts on it though,”

“See, not everyone acts on it!” Elain elbowed Azriel and he bowed dramatically.

“I think it depends on the arse. Yours is too tempting not to smack.”

Once Lucien moved on to another group of guests, Azriel grabbed Elain by the hand and dragged her after him, with Piglet hot on their heels.

“You are not having messy sex with me in the closet!” she warned.

He didn’t answer, but threw her her coat and her boots, while lunging at Piglet and taking him by surprise before he could escape.

“Are we leaving?” Elain asked, looking around and at her coat in confusion.

“No. But put it on. We are gonna go out for a sec.”

She frowned at his abruptness, but took off her heels and pulled on her socks and then her boots, before tying her coat with a belt. Piglet was wearing his jacket too, though he looked unamused and put off by the fact that he wasn’t chased around. Azriel even pulled on Piglet’s knit hat, while he dressed himself, and then taking Elain’s hand, he had the three of them sneak out quietly.

The moment they were outside, Elain gasped softly and threw her head back.

The world had turned white.

Snow.

Thick, fluffy piles of snow had fallen in the past few hours and now covered everything in pristine brilliant whiteness. It swirled in the lemony light of street lights, falling silently all around them.

Piglet looked up, awed.

This was a new and beautiful thing that he didn’t remember from before. His tongue lolled out of his mouth and he caught snowflakes on his nose, licking his lips loudly. Then, with a happy howl, Piglet burst forth and galloped through the snow, rolling in it and screeching joyfully.

Elain bounced on her heels, clapping her hands excitedly, laughing and also trying to catch some snowflakes on her tongue.

“This is better than sex in the closet!” she giggled, spreading her arms wide.

Azriel came behind her and wrapped his arm across her chest.

“Fuck sex,” he whispered into her ear, his lips warm and tender on her cold skin. She shivered at the proximity, because of how good he smelled, and because he enveloped her in his warmth and his bigness. He continued, his cheek scraping against her own.

“I am trying to be your home, you know. Your safe place. Your go-to person for happy and for sad. I am looking to be the reason you smile, and laugh and clap your hands.”

“Az,” she breathed and turned in his arms, looking up at him. Her chocolate-brown eyes were filled with tears. Tears of love. They rolled silently over her cheeks, while Azriel smiled down at her and whispered,

“We're still gonna have rough sex though.”

Before she could answer, he gently took her jaw in his fingers and tilted her face so it lined up with his.

“I want to kiss you, Elain,” he said seriously, his breath fanning over her lips.

“Kiss me then,” she permitted. Thick, white clumps of snow fell on Azriel’s black hair, his eyelashes, her hands that clutched at his shoulders. Her tears dried up and she breathed heavily, disoriented and aroused at once.

And then, Azriel kissed her.

His lips were heavenly.

Soft and light at first, tentative and gentle.

She tensed against him, the bulk of his body shielding her from the world. And in this world, in her world, there was only him.

His kiss was tender, but firm, luxuriant and dominant at once. He gripped her face in his massive hands, squeezing tightly and holding her in place, but his lips were soft and loving on her mouth. He didn’t hurry, but tasted her thoroughly, enjoyed the scent of her sugar- and wine-tinted mouth. She tasted delicious–like he always thought she would. Butter and honey and pastry and everything nice. Everything that was Elain. She was sweet and homey and familiar, and he felt like he’d kissed her a million times before.

His tongue parted her lips at last, and he continued his exploration, but it grew hungrier and more urgent as the kiss progressed. A groan of primal, animalistic pleasure escaped his throat, reverberating against her lips and Elain trembled in his arms, growing hot and needy, despite the falling snow and the sharp wind.

She felt consumed by him, and yet, worshipped at the same time. Just like always. He ignited feelings in her which she’d never experienced before–didn’t even think that she was capable of them. It was raw and hot, and left her feeling lightheaded and overwhelmed. Elain didn’t care about anything at that moment, nothing but Azriel Night, the man she came to love so desperately and completely.

She arched into him, wrapping her arms around his neck, holding the back of his head, while he cupped her head and delved deeper into her mouth, licking and sucking on her tongue. His other hand fell away from her face and slipped down her back, before pressing into her hip and pushing her closer to him.

Elain was well aware of his general size and how he was big everywhere. But feeling him now, thick and hard against her belly, definitely aroused–finally made her feel like a woman. She felt desired. Needed. Wanted. Big, strong, powerful, towering Azriel, and she was his undoing right now. Little Elain, whom no one took seriously. Azriel Night was kissing her. Panting for her. Growling in his chest like a beast because of how she made him feel.

She didn’t know that she needed this kiss until his mouth took possession of hers. To say that she’d never been kissed like this before was an understatement of the century. Azriel licked and sucked on her mouth, nipping on her lips, biting them until they were swollen beneath his. It was then that she released a ragged, pitiful moan of pleasure, because he ground himself between her legs and her breasts rubbed into his solid chest, intensifying her pleasure, making her feel everything.

“This is the sound I want to hear when I am inside of you,” he murmured into her mouth, kissing her lightly, before clamping his teeth over her jaw.

Elain felt his heart pounding against her own, and she howled into the night when he bit her neck, sucking in on the delicate skin and marking her as his anew. He sucked and bit her and she staggered back, almost falling out of his arms. He didn’t let go of her, but only growled like a beast, panting into her skin, his lips and teeth working themselves deep into her flesh, while his arms banded around her. Elain gasped from the pain and the sublime pleasure, because hearing him grunt and growl like that might have been the sexiest sound she’d ever heard.

“I want them all to know who you belong to,” he whispered, returning to her lips and kissing her hard and sloppily. She loved this untamed, wild side of him, where he lost his control and revealed the true nature of him and his utter obsession with her. “To me. You belong to me,” he chanted. “Mine.”

“Yours,” she nodded, kissing his lips, kissing his eyes, then his tongue, then his lips again. She was the one to lose control of the situation just as well. If he wanted to fuck her against the wall of her sister’s house, she’d let him. She was achy everywhere, tense and wet between her legs, and when he boldly thrust his hand under her dress, and between her damp thighs, he smiled.

His thumb brushed against her slit, and between kisses he asked, “all for me?”

“All for you,” she nodded, biting his neck hard and leaving teeth marks on his skin.

“I guess you want me to be yours as well?” he joked, and then pulled his hand away from her pussy and licked his thumb. Before she could answer, he kissed her again, his tongue sliding against hers and allowing her to taste her own essence. It felt forbidden and scandalous and not something that Elain’s done before, but she liked it. She liked everything. And this kiss…it was unreal. It was unreal in its intensity and its pure eroticism. Who could even kiss like that? Apparently Azriel Night could. She was buzzing. Head to toe she was shivering, her fingers and toes were tingling, her tongue couldn’t get enough of him, of his taste, of how he felt against her own tongue.

Once they pulled apart to get some air into their lungs, Azriel smiled at her and rubbed his cold nose against hers.

“Can I kiss you now any time I want to?” he asked.

“Yes!!” she just about yelled. “And I will be kissing you!”

He clasped his hands on the small of her back and kissed her again, “well, that’s brilliant, because I really, really like kissing you.”

He then reached between their bodies and said, “Now, look what I have!”

“What?”

From his pocket, he took out a…carrot.

“Stole it from Fey,” he said conspiratorially, as if it explained something to the very perplexed Elain.

He grabbed her hand and said, “come on! We are building a snowman!”

“Now?”

“Well, of course now!” he said, looking at her like she was silly. “Next year we might be building one with our baby. This year, we gotta build it with our fur son.”

“What baby?!” she gasped, as he tugged her along, to the clearing where Piglet was burrowing through the snow, rolling in it and howling with excitement.

“You know–son, daughter. Baby.”

“We are having a baby now?”

“Starts with kissing, ends with a baby. That’s how it is.”

“I wasn’t planning on having any babies,” Elain argued feebly, but he only said, “plans change’.

The snow was thick and wet, but there wasn’t heaps of it, since it was London, after all.

“You do the head, I’ll do the base,” Azriel instructed, assessing the situation and figuring that they’d have enough snow for a small, modest snowman.

Turned out that Elain sucked at making a snowman. She wasn’t wearing gloves and her hands kept getting cold, so Azriel needed to continuously interrupt his own work, so he could blow into and kiss her freezing palms, which only descended into more kissing…mouth kissing. Meanwhile, their stupid pug kept destroying the round snow mounds that they managed to construct by jumping into them and rolling around happily. Elain’s boots were soaked through as well, so by the time Azriel finally managed to roll a decent base, he had to give his girl a piggyback ride, because she was freezing and shaking, while laughing uproariously. She was also filming his work on her phone, while Piglet hopped around them, trying to understand what was happening. Hanging precariously off Azriel’s back, Elain finally managed to roll a decent-enough ball, which they hefted together and carefully placed on top of the other ball.

“Pink, we need a stick,” Azriel instructed, and Piglet took off before Azriel even finished talking.

“Whoa,” he breathed, as Elain laughed, her arms wrapped around his neck, and her lips constantly making contact with his face. “I guess he really wanted that stick.”

Piglet returned with a stick, tossed it to Azriel, who fashioned one arm out of it, before sending the pug to fetch another. Soon their snowman had two arms, a couple of coins for eyes, and then, with great fanfare, Elain pushed the carrot into the head.

She barely managed to take a few photos and a short video for Piglet’s Insta account, before he began to circle the snowman curiously, barking and growling at it, and then attacking it viciously.

“Why are you so mean?!” Elain cried. “You are supposed to be gentle with it! Don’t eat it!”

Oh yeah, he was gonna eat it.

Piglet savagely munched on pieces of the snowman, licking and pulling clumps of snow, smacking his lips.

“Fucking animal,” Azriel laughed, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around Elain. “Are you cold?”

“I am,” she nodded. “But I don’t want to go back inside. This is so much fun!”

“Yeah? What else is fun?” he teased.

She drew her knuckles over his cheek, his now-wet hair and then stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his cold mouth. He didn’t have to be asked twice and quickly took over, capturing her sweet mouth with his and eagerly coaxing her plump, buttery-scented lips apart. She whimpered against him, especially when his hands boldly slid to cup the curve of her behind, slipping beneath the coat and making her shiver from the cold. She didn’t care. She sighed warmly and deliciously into his mouth and wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, her cold, wet fingers tangling in his hair. Caressing his tongue with her own she opened up eagerly to the kiss, and Azriel responded in kind, deepening the caress of his tongue, kissing her filthy and hot, his lips both teasing, and dominating at once. It was dirty and open-mouthed, her kisses loud and maddeningly sticky, rendering his brain to almost naught–all he saw and felt was his gorgeous girl, finally, nearly all his.

Elain moaned against him and Azriel…pulled away abruptly and yelled, “Piglet! The fuck, you weirdo?!”

Elain turned around and gasped in shock, not knowing whether to scream, cry or laugh. So she did all three–laughing so hard, that tears sprung in her eyes.

Because Piglet burrowed into the snowman and successfully pulled out the carrot, which he was now crunching on, though it looked like he was making out with the snowman.

“Dr. Hannibal Piglet Lecter,” Azriel muttered. “Fucking savage pug.”

Azriel grabbed her phone and filmed the carnage.

From Piglet's Instagram: The carrot is no more

“This should pay for his upkeep for a month,” he said, knowing that the video will garner a million likes and comments.

Gripping the half-eaten carrot in his mouth Piglet rushed to them and demanded that Azriel pick him up.

“That’s it? You just give up?” Azriel laughed, as he grabbed the dog and pulled Elain closer to him.

When they returned to the house, the first thing they were greeted by was Nesta and Cassian, glaring at them and arms crossed on their chests.

“We saw you making out!” Cassian declared like he was Mother Superior at a convent.

“Guess the two of you failed as chaperones!” Azriel shrugged indifferently, while he helped Elain out of her coat.

“We didn’t fail!” Nesta bristled. “You two are out of control!”

Little did she know.

The next day

Dev arrived around 11:30 am. He hadn’t asked Azriel this yet, but he had wondered where Azriel planned to live once he and Elain got married. Elain’s house made much more sense for a family, not to mention that her office was here as well. But if Azriel was going to move here, Dev needed to consider where he was going to move as well. Russell Square, Holborn, Fitzrovia were really out of his budget. Azriel paid well, but these were some prime locations, and he’d have to rob a bank to afford something nice. Shame that he wasn’t a footballer who grew up with a billionaire duke, or a little heiress who inherited a damn mansion just because. Considering her sister’s place last night, Dev definitely thought that it was better to be born wealthy and healthy, than poor and ill.

The pug came out first, dressed in a full on morning suit, with a pale blue silk tie no less. He barked his greeting and headed for the car.

“Shake?” Dev asked, extending his hand. Piglet gave him his paw. Then Elain and Azriel came out of the house, holding hands like teenagers. No doubt about it, his old mate Azriel Night, the quiet, scarred boy whom Dev met in a group home when they were around eleven was in love. Azriel, who didn’t say much, leaving the talking to his rambunctious brother Cassian, but who possessed incredible speed, the ability to appear and disappear like a ghost, and a mean left hook that could fall even a grown man in a few seconds–that Azriel was now all grown up. And Dev was proud of him. Azriel deserved something good in his life. Something nice. Something pure and genuine. And this sweet little matchmaker of his, this fancy noble Lady and her posh pug somehow, amazingly, fit the bill.

Azriel opened the car door for Elain, and just as she climbed inside, he slapped her arse.

“I am a gentleman, baby,” he announced. “Always a man, not always gentle.”

“You can’t be like this in front of my father!” she warned.

“Oh, meeting the family?” Dev chuckled. “You ready for that, big man?”

“I’d have to meet him one day,” Azriel shrugged. “Guess today is the day.”

“So, where to? Kensington Palace? Buckingham?” Dev joked. Would he be terribly surprised of Elain said ‘yes’? not really.

“Mayfair,” she said. “Mount St.”

Of course. Dev wasn’t even surprised. An ultra posh street with Balenciaga, Rubinacci and exclusive jewellery stores, a caviar and champagne restaurant Scott’s, as well as the luxury Connaught hotel where basic rooms went for 1,000 quid a night.

“We usually go to Annabel’s for all of our birthdays,” Elain explained, and both Azriel and Dev shook their heads.

“Let me guess. Dad is a member?” Azriel chuckled. Annabel’s was an elegant private club with a dance floor for the famous, the dressed-up and the well-heeled.

Elain pursed her lips, indicating that he was.

“So why not today?”

“Feyre texted and said that we should go to dad’s,” Elain said. “Said to bring you,”

“Oh boy. I am getting somewhat nervous,” he joked, but Dev, who knew Azriel for a long, long time, noticed a note of worry in his friend’s voice. Azriel was all jokes and nonchalance and elegant swagger, but he was going to meet the father of the girl he loved. And that meant something. It was important.

It wasn’t a long drive and Dev soon parked next to a massive, three story Edwardian mansion. It was red brick with white trim and actual columns. Piglet barked excitedly, recognising the place.

“You’re going to go see grandpa?” Elain asked, stroking his head. Piglet barked again, raring to go.

“Whenever I have to leave him with my father–especially if I go on a holiday–I come back, and it’s basically ‘I shall require organic vegetables three times a day with freshly churned butter. A pup cup of the finest double cream delivered daily and milked from a prized cow in Oxfordshire. For dinner, I shall dine on a lightly seared steak, a bit of duck confit and a brioche toast. Oh, and a couple of mini cannoli straight from Naples’.”

“Somehow, I am not even a little bit surprised,” Azriel admitted and Dev nodded in agreement.

“The level of spoiling that he receives from my father is criminal.”

Azriel told himself that he was not nervous, when Elain took his arm, and they walked under the portico, the doors opening as if by magic.

There was a butler, who greeted them and called Elain ‘Lady Elain’. They walked through wide marble hallways and sitting rooms, Azriel feeling decidedly out of place even if he wouldn’t show it. Piglet tore through the house, howling happily, unconcerned about anything, and by the time they saw him next, it was in the dining room where a middle-aged gentleman was cooing and hugging the pug, rocking him like he was a baby.

To Azriel’s surprise, Nesta was here too, but also Cassian–which was unexpected, to say the least. Cassian raised his shoulders, indicating that he had no idea why he was here, though it didn’t look like he was greatly burdened by the company.

“Daddy!” Elain went to her father and he smiled at her.

“Good morning, pumpkin,”

Pumpkin? That made Azriel smile. But the nickname fit. She was his little pumpkin.

“Please meet Mr. Azriel Night,” Elain introduced them. “My father, Sir Charles Archeron.”

“Arsenal captain,” the older man nodded knowingly. “My girls are Tottenham fans. I am an Arsenal man myself. Though I do enjoy rugby a lot as well.”

“I am slowly pulling Elain and Piglet to my side,” Azriel teased.

“Oh, I saw all the photos on that Instagram that Elain has for the pup. He looked like a Gunner born and bred.”

Azriel laughed, “You follow him too?”

“How can I not,” he squeezed Piglet lovingly. “Barring my girls giving me actual grandchildren, this is so far, my only grand-pup,” he said dramatically.

Nesta rolled her eyes. Elain rolled her eyes.

And both groaned.

“This is what happens every time I mention grandchildren,” Mr. Archeron complained.

Just as he said the words, Rhys entered the room, holding a champagne flute, with Feyre on his arm.

“Oh, you’ve arrived!” Feyre exclaimed with a wide smile. “I was just showing Rhys around.”

“Why are we all here, by the way?” Nesta asked impatiently. “I was looking forward to Annabel’s.”

“Forgive the change of plans,” Rhysand said breezily. “We’ll be sure to go to Annabel’s soon.”

“Well then, what is it?” Nesta sipped her mimosa, while silent servants circulated around the room with trays of champagne. “We are all here now.”

“I am curious myself,” Mr. Archeron agreed, while he gave Piglet a piece of cheese. “And I am pleasantly surprised to see my three daughters with such fine gentlemen. All here together, today.”

Nesta was about to protest the implication that she was here with Cassian, but Cassian put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently, effectively quieting her down.

Rhysand and Feyre exchanged a glance, and then he said,

“Feyre and I got married earlier today. She is now Marchioness Feyre Archeron-Darling, Lady Darling. My wife.”

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #azriel and elain #pro elriel #elain #elain x azriel #A Match Baked In Heaven #elriel fanfic #Elriel Fanfiction #my writing #acotar fanfiction #Three Brothers and three sisters #THe Bat Boys and the Archeron sisters #my fanfic #new chapter

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thatfeelinwhenyou · 10 months

Text

HANDS ON YOU — 026

IN WHICH; ILAND 2 happened and you debuted first place as the leader of LUMIÉRE. Having been told that your group is involved in a lore crossover with ENHYPEN, you navigate work, friendship, and love while trying to make it in an industry filled with animosity and condemnation. When life throws you lemons, you gotta make lemonades chuck it right back!

smau + written (0.3k words)

❥･• chapter 26 — way back home

"Lee Heeseung." He freezes in his tracks upon hearing his full name, a name that come to think about, had never left your lips before.

"Yes?" He turns around sheepishly to face you. The two of you are standing in front of his dorm, and he nervously fidgets with the number pad behind him. "You're hiding something." You squint, and Heeseung mentally curses at your keen leader instincts.

"No, I just want to show you my room!"

"What are you, twelve?"

"Don't ask so many questions." He hurriedly punches in the code to his dorm, opening the door to find the apartment completely pitch black. He gestures for you to enter first, and though suspicious, you don't refuse. "Aren't you off today? Where's the rest of your mem—"

"SURPRISE!" You jump as the lights flicker on, revealing the living room adorned with string lights and balloons spelling out "Sorry" on the wall. It takes a moment for the scene to register—the entirety of ENHYPEN is there, along with your own members, every single one of them.

You stand frozen in the doorway, speechless, as if the whole world has come to a standstill for a moment while you take in the sight before you—your members, who somehow made up while you were away, holding each other with open arms extended to you.

"My arm is starting to hurt. Are you going to bring it in or not?" Ray breaks the silence, flicking her wrist as a sign for you to quickly join in on the Lumière group hug. Just then, you feel two hands rest on your shoulders, relieving them from the tension that had built up over the past two days.

"Go on, they're waiting for you." Heeseung's gentle voice cuts through the white noise filling your ears. In an instant, tears well up in your eyes as you rush into the arms of the people you'd give everything for.

"But how did…?"

Realisation dawns on you, and you whirl around to face the culprit. "So that's why you were acting so strange! You were distracting me!" You point an accusing finger at Heeseung, who shrugs and pouts at the same time.

“I’m sorry Y/N, for being the whiny and childish bitch I am. I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on any of you like that, I hope you know I care about you too, truly.” Ray speaks out and you swear you almost burst into a fit of tears.

“Ray, you already know I’m basically immune to all the shit you say right?” You light-heartedly joke and you heave a sigh of relief when you notice Ray deflates into herself, relieved that she didn’t completely lose you. You’ve always knew that Ray has a soft spot for you and the members, she just never really knows how to express it. Realising maybe that’s why Ray finds confort in Sunghoon and vice versa. They see themselves in each other and no one can understand Ray better than the man who fought 1 vs 6 with his own members. You smile to yourself when you catch him smiling solemnly at the girl, proud of how far she’s come.

"Whose idea was this?" You point to the gigantic balloon-spelled "Sorry," and they all collectively point toward Aejeong, who scrunches her nose.

"I hate all of you."

"We love you too, AJ," Ray laughs, throwing an arm around Aejeong, who looks like she's about to cry.

"I mean it, Y/N. I am so, so sorry for what I did to you. I’m not even going to give you any excuses, I just hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me." You exchange glances with each and every one of your members, knowing deep down that no matter what happens, you’d go to hell and back with them over and over again.

"AJ, how can I forgive you when I never blamed you for anything in the first place?" You pull her into a hug, and the rest of the girls slowly join in, surrounding you with the love and affection that you had missed over the past few days.

“How did this happen?” You pull away, looking back and forth between Ray and Aejeong, their arms tightly wrapped around each other. “We kissed and made up. What about it?" Aejeong playfully pecks Ray's cheek, causing the later to pull away with a jerk.

"Ayo, back up," Sunghoon appears behind Ray, protectively pulling her away from Aejeong. His own members coo at him from the back, finding his protective gesture adorable.

The room erupts in laughter and playful banter as Sunghoon and Ray exchange teasing glances. "Oh, look who's getting all protective now," Jake teases, nudging Sunghoon's shoulder.

Sunghoon tries to maintain a serious expression but fails as a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "Someone's got to keep this girl in line," he says, giving Ray a mock stern look.

"Hey, I can handle myself just fine," Ray retorts, but her playful tone gives away her amusement. She looks at Sunghoon with a fond smile, appreciating his protective nature.

The members continue to tease Sunghoon and Ray, adding to the lighthearted atmosphere in the room. You can't help but smile as you witness the playful interaction. Seeing your members and ENHYPEN getting along again brings you a sense of relief and happiness.

It's evident that the tension and misunderstandings have been resolved, and now the focus is on rebuilding their bond and enjoying each other's company. Amidst the chaos, you lock eyes with Heeseung who offers you a reassuring smile of his own.

Heeseung's presence in your life is a constant reminder of the importance of empathy, forgiveness, and growth. That no matter how chaotic your surroundings are, even in the middle of the most busiest street, that you’d still somehow find your way to him.

Having taught you that mistakes are opportunities for learning and that unity and understanding can mend even the deepest wounds. With Heeseung by your side, you felt supported and ready to face any challenges that lay ahead, whatever they may be…

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♡。·˚˚· ·˚˚·。♡

authors note: stayc girls, it’s going down(2) btw i apologise for the increase in written chapters. istg i’m trying to avoid writing them but it’s so difficult 🥲

taglist! open. @softiehee @annoyingbitch83 @hoon0logy @aernx @lhees01 @flower0930 @harperwasstaken1 @haechansbbg @renjunoya @heeheesang @spilled-coffee-cup @jwnghyuns @ocyeanicc @neozon3nha @pshchives @casualzo @captivq @suvgs @iea-tsand @yohanabanana @wonyoungsvirus @shinsou-rii

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dayseternal-blog · 1 month

Note

Hi days!!! Thank you so much for being like the only one to interact with me on here 🫶 I was wondering if you and anyone else could send me any fics with naruto being a gym rat? Even if he’s just a little background character lol

💕💕💕💕 You're a dear mutual to me 😭😭 you don't have to thank me 😭😭

The first fics I thought of are ones you probably already know 😔

Gym Naruto in NaruHina Fics

“Serenity Prayer” by katarinahime - Rated E, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. When their fairytale endings smash to ugly pieces, Hinata and Naruto help put each other back together.

“Common Side Effects” by katarinahime & “Medicated” by szajnie - Rated E for a lot of things, Crime/Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto and Hinata, in a struggling relationship, must confront the pain inside before they can love each other.

There are these others that show gyms...of various types...:

“Seeing Stars” by Free Mentality - Rated T, Modern AU, One-shot. They had been attending the same boxing gym for months before he noticed her, and the first time they met was a bit of a disaster, to say the least.

Chapter 21 from “Between the Trees” by @utsus - Rated G, Olympics AU, One-shot. It’s not uncommon for them to train in the same gym.

Chapter 6 from “Heartbreaks and Heartaches” by @powerful-niya - Rated T, College AU, One-shot. Prompt 4: Hinata slowly raised her head to look at Tenten, her eyes burning from the amount of tears, “No, it’s my fault.” She muttered, clutching her own shirt, “I caused this to happen— I told him to leave.” (prepare to be very sad.)

"Prey" by @sessakag- Rated E, Crime AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. Following a midnight chance encounter with Hinata Hyuuga, a smitten sociopath, Naruto Uzumaki, tries his hand at romance, determined to make her fall in love with him the only way he knows how.

Oh, here's a couple that I think fit the idea of gym rat a little better!

“Naughty or Nice?” by @vegebulsoup - Rated E, Modern AU, Two-shot. Even though she was against the idea at first, Hinata can’t take her eyes off the Sexy Santa that Ino recruited for their company’s holiday party.

“Nighttime Workout” by Breezyanimetra - Rated E, College AU, Two-shot. Shy Hinata doesn’t usually have the courage to speak with her long time crush Naruto. All she does is watch him workout wishing she can do more. A snow storm one fateful night changes that for her.

Oh this next one doesn't show any gym setting, but Naruto is a physical trainer:

“Warped” by BountifullyBeautifullyBlessed - Rated E includes non-con, College AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Hinata can’t sleep and her roommate, Naruto, is more than willing to help her out.

going to the gym is also mentioned in these:

“The Study Session” from “Endless Lemons” by agitosgirl - Rated M, High School AU, One-shot. She’s covered in piercings and leather, and has a bad attitude. But she takes an interest in him. A very special interest…

“Echoes of Silence” by @ellaroundpanda - Rated E, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. Hinata Hyuga was trapped. Her relationship with Toneri was leading to nowhere and she wanted to find a new Dom. Naruto Uzumaki seemed to be the answer to all her prayers, but her fiancé wouldn’t give up that easily…

Naruto does weightlifting in this one:

“Asynchronous With You” by @bunny-hoodlum - Rated E, High School AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. They told everyone they were foster siblings. He did it for her because she didn’t want them to grow apart. She did it for herself so she could stop loving him. Their timing couldn’t have been worse.

uhmm I think in this one, he owns gyms:

“Missed Years” by Rinne-Kami - Rated T, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. The act of one night gave birth to their future. And now, with years past since that one night, they were left with years to return. Seven years of love to find, seven years of trust to rebuild, and seven years of fatherhood to return.

Okay, I found more than I thought I would! If anyone can think of others, feel free to add!

#gwynsavdye #naruhina fanfic recs #naruhina modern au

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nautiscarader · 3 months

Text

What the hecking heck has happened? - a post-not-really-mortem

What the hecking heck has happened?

So you might have noticed I have been absent for the past 2.5 months. So, where have I been? What has happened to me?

Well, you see, I got this magical music box, and when I opened it, I was transported into a different world full of talking frogs, toads and newts! I've had wonderful adventures, made lots of friends and-

Yeah, nope. I've been in a hospital.

WITH NO INTERNET

I feel you, Anne.

But let's start…

Serious warning: I will be describing my stay at the hospital, and it may get touchy for some of you. Proceed with caution.

Chapter 1: "Not so much Fall as Saunter Vaguely Downwards."

So in mid-November I fell from my bed. I have multiple sclerosis and for the life of me I couldn't lift up. I had lots of bruises, so I had to be taken to hospital to clean them and then do something more with my illness… But that is just the beginning…

Chapter 2: The ballad of lemon cocaine

So here I am, lying in bed, getting meds, and around day 3 the nurse brought me a small cup full of white powder. I looked at her and blurted out "What am I supposed to do with it, snort it?" and she replied "No, sir, you're supposed to mix it in your tea or soup… " and she went away. That powder was some protein to help my wounds rebuild, btw.

But a few weeks down the line there was a twist: they gave me another powdered drink, and this one was lemon-flavoured! So I was mixing them up and called it "lemon cocaine". And it was delicious.

Chapter 3: And then shit happened

There is this nasty thing called Clostridium which gives you diarrhoea. And I caught it. So for the next ten days… well, I was busy, shall we say.

Yeah.

Chapter 4: "we got robbed!"

Imagine my surprise when one day I get a call… from Police. Turns out someone broke into my and my neighbour's basements.

So I've had another thing to worry about.

For exactly two days.

Because the thief took my neighbour's power cutting tools… AND PUT THEM ON AN AUCTION SITE.

WITH LOTS OF PICS [READ: EVIDENCE]

So that went smoothly, we both recovered everything stolen.

chapter 5: Then I was robbed.

Of some shirts. Because I was putting my used shirts and shorts in a special, red garbage bag. What I did not know is that red garbage bags are used for hazardous materials.. you can guess what happened.

RIP to my original Wakfu kickstarter shirt.

Well, it had a rip, so…

Chapter 6: Return of the shit.

So… one day my doctor came and said straight to me.

Another 10 days…

Chapter 7: I am thick skinned

And that is a problem for applying cannulas (cannuli?). Those things they insert into veins to make drips work. Apparent;y my skin is thick and locating blood vessels was incredibly difficult sometimes. The record was 6.Six times they stabbed me until it worked.

And even when they worked,the band-aids they used just wouldn't stick to my skin.

Chapter 8: Hot potato, cold potato.

So here is a thing: I don't like lying next to a heater, especially at night. I have troubles with breathing, get sweaty, etc. So naturally, they've put me right next to one. But it was okay,cos I could just turn the knob to 0, right?

No,I couldn't.

One nurse couldn't.

Second one couldn't.

A PLUMBER couldn't.

So they had to move my bed to the opposite side of the room, with the plumber telling me he'd fix it.

That was the last time I have seen him.

But after a week they moved me from neurology to neurology rehab ward, where…

They've put me in a bed next to another heater!

But this time, there was a twist… or rather,there wasn't. COS THERE WAS NO KNOB.

It took them three weeks to find one.

Chapter 9: Rehab

So I was moved to a rehab ward, where every day I was being stretched, twisted and reassembled so I can move a bit better.And honestly, all the workers they were flipping fantastic - so compassionate, so understanding with patience of saints. I will cherish time I spent with them forever.

Chapter 10: Christmas on closed ward

Time moved on, and, well, Christmas has arrived. And we've had a really neat Christmas eve celebrations! I even got an unexpected present - the mother of another patient in our room (of 4) got each of us a Gilette razor - kinda useless for me,since I was using electric one, but it was so neat, wrapped in red ribbon and all! And she baked us all cakes! And brought a small Christmas tree. Luckily, I had some sweets of my own, I gave them in return. I know it may sound silly or insignificant, but it really was a heartwarming moment.

Chapter 11: In which I became Mr. House

So, no joke, all this time as I have been lying and doing nothing, I was composing this post in my head, with gifs. And one joke would have been that I looked like this:

but I felt like this:

Well.

WELL, WELL, WELL.

Imagine my surprise when one day my rehab guy put me onto THIS COCKING MEDIEVAL TORTURE RACK.

I mean, I have always suspected that irony is another force in our universe, but that has to be a definite proof, right?

I was actually feeling pretty down that day, but when I saw this, I started laughing like a maniac. I explained the joke, since he never played FNV, but he laughed too. We started calling it "mr House treatment".

Chapter 12: The wheelchair.

Around week before Christmas, I was put for the first time on a wheelchair.And after a month of being immobile… it was exhilarating,to finally be able to do SOMETHING on my own.

And then mid-January I got my own! For free! Something something government funding, something something disability insurance, yadda yadda, who cares? I now had a wheelchair!

So for the next two weeks I have been training to make my body adjusted to my new permanent part.

And then… I was out.

AND THEN I NEARLY THOUGHT THE THIEF STOLE MY ROUTER. But no, it was simply hidden for cleaning.

So all this time I have been thinking, which character should I try to identify with?

Maybe Oracle?

Or that kid from that one ATLA episode?

But then I realised there is only choice…

I AM NOW COCKING DAVROS!

So, what now?

As of right now, I am officially disabled.

I take tons of meds, have nurses to help me, and I have to learn to live anew.

It is tough, sometimes really tough.

So I ask you all to be a bit more patient with me.

I will be slower with updates, fics, etc. because I am slower now IRL.

But know that if you are reading this, then you are my friend and I love you.

Oh, and speaking of fics.... Nah, I'll leave it as a surprise ;)

Oh and here is an unnecessary sequel!

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slutforsnow · 2 months

Text

Chapter 11 :3

TW/CW: Talk of Sunni's dead dad/talk of O.D. (overdosing)

“You're not gonna tell me are you?” Sunni eventually asked, yawning as the sun slowly started to rise. It was around 6 am now and the duo had been playfully rolling around on the bed, teasingly wrestling for the past 45 minutes—mainly for Sunni to try and get whatever was bothering Coriolanus out of him. Currently, she was being quote unquote ‘crushed’ by him as he was half-way laying on her, but he wasn't putting his full weight on her, or so she thought it wasn't his full weight, but didn't mind it as the cuddly position reminded her of how she'd come cuddle her dad while her ma was out doing something.

Sunni was a big cuddler growing up and when she had lost her father, she stopped looking for cuddles and began to give people cuddles whenever she got a feeling someone needed it. And to her, Coryo needed cuddles.

“Nah, not now. You don't need to worry about it,” Coriolanus told her, pressing the cold tip of his nose against the bridge of her nose. He could practically taste the lavender and lemon scented shampoo & conditioner she used for her shower hours earlier.

“Alright, alright, but before everyone else wakes up, can I show you a place? Pretty please?” She asked, pushing him onto his back and resting her head on the back of her hand.

“It's six am,” Coryo began before pausing. Sunni was looking so beautiful in the morning sunrise. Her hair was mildly messy, in a loose braid over her shoulder. Wisps of her hair cascaded down her face, almost blending in with her freckles. “You have freckles..”

She smiled at his sudden change of words. “I do indeed have freckles, Cori. You just noticed?”

“Never gotten the chance to truly study your face without it being considered weird,” He answered, shrugging and sitting up so his back was against the headboard. He brushed a strand of her hair out of her face, smiling a bit. He liked being really calm around her; not having to worry about something she'd say, raising his pulse because she was so easygoing. So sweet and cautious of her words and how he'd react. If he thought about it, Sunni was the only non-family person who didn't know about his I.E.D. and treaded lightly to not anger him but didn't keep herself guarded. She truly trusted him.

“Alright, yeah, that's true cause for the past 2 months I've been up Festus’ ass and we're always around Sejanus. But could we take the opportunity to get out so I can show you something?” She inquired, laying on her back. Resting her hands on her tummy, she looked up at Coryo, smiling at how… angelic he looked. From her angle, Coryo looked absolutely ethereal, and she couldn't believe he was real. She felt like she was in a dream or a fairytale; everything felt too perfect to be real right now.

“Okay, yes, you can show me. As long as we're back before anyone else wakes up,” He agreed, earning a large smile from her.

She chirped a little yay and went to her closet to choose an outfit for the day. Meanwhile, Coryo got up and stretched, smiling at the ruined bed that they had tangled themselves up in and out of. He could almost cry; this hotel bed looked more lived in than his own bed back home, and he wasn't mad about it because Sunni brought him to life. She gave him a reason not to be angry.

Silently getting his phone, he waited for Sunni as he watched the sun continue to slowly peak over the mountains as far as the eye could see. Coryo smirked; he wondered if Sunni was named Sunni due to the immense heat or the blistering sun. Then he frowned.

‘No, no, her parents would've picked a more sophisticated reason for her name. Maybe she has another name but goes by Sunni as a nickname,’ He thought to himself.

Hearing the bathroom door open, he perked up and smiled contently at her outfit choice. She was wearing what seemed to be a ruffle asymmetry A-line saffron maxi dress; her heels were gold wire type of heels that did not add much to her height. Coryo had seen Tigris make something similar, so he assumed he was right and by the looks of it, even in a dark hotel room, he was.

“You ready, Cori?”

Coryo was very much not ready to be brought to a grave. Especially not one as beautiful as this.

“It's my daddy's grave,” She told him softly, tucking her dress under her knees and sitting on the dirty grounds beside her father's tombstone. Coryolanus was speechless. He didn't think Sunni would bring him here and he certainly wasn't expecting Sunni to be raised by a single mother without any signs of gaining a step-father. “I come here every morning to visit him, ya know? To be closer to him.”

Coryo looked at Sunni, seeing as she took off her heels and let her toes wiggle in the dirt. The tombstone itself was maybe the width of the shower back home and was probably made of granite or something similar to show respect for the late Mr. Plinth.

“How'd he die..?” Coryo questioned slowly, watching Sunni pick a weed out of her father's tombstone vase and toss it aside.

“Drug overdose,” She told him, leaning against her dad's tombstone and shutting her eyes. She felt closer to her dad when she did this and it made her feel like his ghost was hugging her from the other side. “He was stressing about finances and he went for a walk… daddy never came home that night. They found his body few miles out by the train tracks and discovered a bunch of puncture wounds—one new, a bunch old. No one suspected a thing. Had his funeral right here… a week before I turned 6”

“I'm sorry, Sunni.”

“What are you sorry for, Cori?”

“That you had to deal with that so young,” He replied and she shrugged softly.

“It's okay. I think without daddy's death, I wouldn't… I wouldn't live up to my name.” Seeing Coriolanus’ puzzled expression, Sunni continued. “Daddy always told me to smile and focus on bein’ happy with myself before tryin’ to make others happy. Even in the saddest of moments, there's still something to smile about. Like sunflowers. Even in the harshest of rains, they still rise and grow… I'm glad ma and daddy named me after sunflowers. It's very fitting, don'tcha think?” She added, looking at Cori. He was stunned. Sunni always seemed like the kind to have the perfect life. Perfect childhood; both parents, only child so there was no fighting over the inheritance, perfect cousin, lots of money, perfect friends, with a perfect lover (one he'll replace, but that's taking time).

“Your parents chose the perfect name for the perfect woman,” He simply said with the faintest smile crossing his lips.

“Mhm. Sunni Girasol Alvarez-Plinth; it's a mouthful, but it's me.”

“I'm sorry, your middle name is Girasol?”

“Yeah, it's Spanish for sunflower!” Coriolanus snickered; girasol sounded more like a car part than the name of a flower, but he let it go.

“C'mon, let's head back before the rest get suspicious,” He said, pulling Sunni to her feet. She grabbed her heels, whispering a soft ‘adios, papá’ to her father's tombstone and walking side-by-side with him to the hotel.

"Where were you both?" Sej asked, raising an eyebrow at Sunni and Coryo as they snuck into the lobby to the complimentary breakfast being provided by the hotel.

"I took Cori to meet dad," Sunni answered, joining her cousin sliding into a booth as Coryo slid in next to her.

"Ah, gotcha."

Tags: @etfrin @hearts4court @snows-wife @delusionalbunni @kiraflowersworld @victory-scream0462 @curled-hair-red-lips @morallygrayboys @phoward89 @xoxo-eyeballs @thereeallink @graciouslyc @acidaciruela @wanda-maximoff-enthusiast @firstworldproblemthings @nowitsmissing @poppyflower-22 @kuromismom7 @xjinnix @flw3rrr @plathsotherib @beaphobia @valeskafics @aoi-targaryen @elayasversion

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preciouslandmermaid · 2 years

Text

nothing’s gonna hurt you baby (carmy x f!reader) - part 11

Note: We’ve had literally yearning for 6 chapters. Six whole chapters. Time for the payoff. Buckle up, this is a long one! Also, I didn’t beta or edit this sdkfjsl.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ Content! Minors DNI. (f!oral receiving, sexual content, cursing/swearing, smoking).

Synopsis: After reading a glowing review for The Beef, you head over at the end of your day to deliver a congratulatory gift of lemon-bars to the hardworking staff (and maybe it’s an excuse to see Carmy. Maybe).

Once you arrive, you learn how badly the day went, and your relationship to Carmy reaches an inevitable breaking point.

(Read on Ao3) /// (Masterpost)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dani finished reading the review out loud to the staff while you’re baking the morning sheets of vanilla and chocolate cake. Personally, you thought this particular food critic was a hack, but any good review would be beneficial for The Beef’s business. And Carmy mentioned they’d be turning on their ‘to-go’ feature soon. You smiled to yourself at the internal change that occurred over these past months. Once upon a time, you hoped for his downfall, and now you were congratulating his employees.

“Wowza.” Ted exclaimed with a grin. “That’s really something.”

Leslie suggested, “We ought to give them a gift.”

You drummed your fingers on your chin. Your conversations with Sydney were few and far in between, but Marcus, Tina, and Carmy respected her, and you respected them. Richie didn’t like her much—so that gave you all the more reason to like her.

“I think Syd likes lemon bars?” You ventured a guess, “We were talking about desserts, and I remember she mentioned a dish with citrus being her favorite.”

“We can make those.” Dani nodded, “It wouldn’t take long, either.”

You smiled. “Great.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You waited until after service before walking over to The Beef. It wouldn’t make sense to try and catch them during either of their rushes. They wouldn’t have time to appreciate the gift. And, if you’re being completely honest, you wanted to see everyone’s reaction.

Carmy’s especially.

You didn’t bother with the front door and circled straight to the back. You expected to find a few employees smoking, not a Baroque painting of exhaustion, grief, and anxiety. Richie’s forehead leaned into his palm with his elbows on his knees. Ebra stared into the distance holding a plastic to-go cup filled with water. Tina’s eyes were glued to her phone, her expression troubled, and a little angry. Carmy wasn’t out here.

Louie, Tina’s son, perked up once he saw you. Why the hell was he here?

“Hey!” He brightened with a little smile, “You’re Dani’s friend.”

You snorted. “I’m Dani’s Boss.” You lifted the tray of lemon bars while walking toward them, “And I come bearing gifts to commemorate the sparkling review in The Telegraph.”

“That guy’s a hack.” Richie looked perturbed, “and it’s not exactly a celebratory mood right now.” He gestured to his hip, “I got stabbed.”

“Oh, shit!” Your eyebrows jumped toward your hairline. Ebra took a lemon bar off the tray with a grateful, excited smile.

Tina added, “Syd and Marcus walked out.”

“Fuck.”

Your mind immediately jumped to Carmy. How was he coping with all this? You set the tray of lemon bars on the open bench and quickly wiped your palms. Syd and Marcus? You recalled Marcus’ passion and thirst for knowledge from your interview. Months ago, you would’ve celebrated this loss, and hired Marcus for your business. But that wasn’t you anymore. Your veins froze over, and a knot of anxiety twisted inside your gut.

If Carmy wasn’t here, then did that mean he was inside? Shit. Your sneaker scraped against the pavement when your body naturally pivoted toward the door.

Richie sighed, a plume of smoke trailing from his nostrils, “You gonna check on your boyfriend or what?”

“He’s not—” You groaned, shaking your head, “Doesn’t matter. Is he inside?”

Tina nodded. “In his office.” You gave her a tentative, brief smile.

She called to your retreating back, “Good luck, Chica!”

“Yeah! He’s a big baby!” Richie yelled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The temperature dropped by several degrees the moment you entered The Beef. It wasn’t a literal change. In fact, the restaurant was warm, and smelled like smoke, with edges of burned chicken and sour giardiniera. But there was a tension and coldness to the air. You offered subdued, passing smiles to Manny and Angel and Sweeps.

Carmy’s office door was shut. You chewed the inside of your cheek. You considered walking away and texting him later once the dust settled. But he came into your office when you were having an emotional breakdown. It’s only fair that you returned the favor.

“Hey!” You slammed your palm on the door a few times, “Open up. It’s me.”

“Not right now,” came Carmy’s struggled reply.

You jiggled the knob. Locked. You pressed your cheek to the cool, quiet wood and said, “I bet Fak has a set of keys.”

His office was the size of a closet. It shouldn’t take him more than a minute to reach over and unlock it. But it felt like an eternity passed before the doorknob turned under your hand. You slipped through and shut it behind you. The room was bathed in the low, yellowish light of his lamp and smelled faintly of cigarettes. Carmy sat in his office chair less than a foot away. He looked as if someone just ran him through with a sword. The lines on his face were drawn, his eyes heavy and exhausted, a sheen of sweat and grease saturated his hair.

“It’s not a good time.” He said, rubbing his fingers over his forehead.

“It never is.” You shrugged and rested your bottom against the metal edge of his desk. Your fingertips nearly brushed. Your left foot almost touched his. Your skin prickled with keen awareness at the breathing space between you. So close, yet so very far. You tore your gaze from his face and smirked at the white-board drawings.

Carmy looked behind him, “What?”

“Richie drew some very similar designs on my board.”

“Of-fucking-course he did.” He scowled.

Your head tilted. Something was…strange…about his tone. Ever since the Fourth of July fireworks, you noticed Carmy’s tone sharpened when it came stories about you and Richie. You assumed it was the usual, nearly-sibling-type annoyance. Richie could be a major asshole, but he grew on you like a non-toxic fungus. He wasn’t a bad guy. He was just a dumb, sad jerk. Did Carmy and Richie have some secret rivalry or disagreement? Wait…

You gasped. “Did you stab Richie?!”

“What?” Carmy scoffed, “No!”

“You’ve been weird every time I’ve brought him up!”

“I – no – I can’t fucking do this today, alright?” He threw his hands into the air and dragged them down his face. “Not today.”

You disliked that he avoided the question. You would have to try and figure it out another time because today wasn’t about Richie. It was about Carmy and how he was coping after Sydney and Marcus bailed. That’s why you were here. You stepped closer, away from the desk, and your knees bumped into his.

“What happened?”

“It was a fucking shitshow, that’s all.” He snapped, “Same as every other fucking day here.”

“Such a shitshow that you locked yourself in your office?”

His jaw flexed and he looked away from you, “What? I can’t have a moment of—a moment of fucking peace?” He said and gestured with a firm, straight hand.

You crossed your arms over your chest. You weren’t buying it. No way. You closed yourself up in your office because you were on the brink of losing your goddamn mind. Now, you weren’t trying to project, but you recognized when someone had their claws out just because they didn’t wany anyone to worry about them.

“Now will you go?” He returned his exhausted gaze to yours, “Please?”

“Only if you agree to something.”

“Fine. Whatever.” He gave a small shake of his head, “What is it?”

“I get to come over after you’re done here.” You said. His eyes widened in shock. You saw the gears turning in his mind to back out of the deal and take something else. But your mind was made up. You weren’t going to let him be alone tonight. He just lost two of his people and you weren’t going to abandon him too.

“W-what? Wh-why?”

You smirked. “You owe me a sleepover.”

At his confused expression, you reached over and lightly patted the side of his cheek. He blinked at you in a stupor and your heart made a funny little somersault like it was auditioning for the Olympics.

“Chin up.” You said, “It’ll be a blast.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carmy stared at his office door after it shut behind you. Today was worse than a shitshow. Today was a fucking cosmic horror of catastrophe. He lost his shit. People were (rightfully) pissed off at him. The To-Go system was insanity. He lost Syd. He lost Marcus (and his donut was fucking fire and now Carmy wouldn’t even have the chance to tell him). Syd was right. He was a piece of shit. An asshole. No better than the chef he worked with in New York. The Beef was fucked, he was fucked, and everything else was chaos and ruin.

Until you.

You showed up like golden salvation and he wanted—Carmy pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He wanted so badly to just hold you. Not kiss you, or fuck you, or profess his messed-up feelings. He wanted to indulge in the simple pleasure of wrapping his arms tight around your body and nuzzling his face against your shoulder. He wanted to be comforted by you. He wanted to smell the warm, sweet powder of your laundry detergent that clung to your clothes. How pathetic was that? He had his worst day at the Beef since he started working and all he wanted to do was forget about it and be with you.

Well, he got his wish.

“Fuck.” He scrubbed one hand over his face, “Fuck.” You were coming over tonight. His place was a wreck. He always imagined he’d have twenty-four hours to clean up the place and make it presentable. However, reality was harsher, and you’d end up seeing his apartment in all its grimy glory.

He sighed heavily and got to his feet.

A mote of lightness lingered in the shell of his chest. It belonged to the tentative excitement of seeing you later. You were something—someone— to look forward to. He recognized the selfishness and couldn’t find the energy, or the resolve, to extinguish the flame.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carmy opened his door with a mild shrug and self-deprecating frown. “This is it.”

You breezed into the apartment, barely a cursory glance around, and settled your hands on your hips. You’d seen worse. His place looked as if he just moved in. There were a few unpacked boxes in the kitchen near the table and no decoration to speak of. He could use a piece of artwork or two. Or maybe an unkillable cactus by the window to liven it up.

You asked, “You hungry?”

“Nah.” Carmy said, shaking his head.

“Then at least take a shower.”

Carmy leveled you with a semi-serious look, but a faint—so faint it’s nearly a ghost—smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Did you come over just to boss me around?”

“Yes.” You said without missing a beat.

A long time ago, your grandfather issued the same level of annoying, bossy care. You were a teenager at the time and your bad mood had morphed darker and deeper. Your mom hardly noticed that you slept more hours than you were awake. But your grandfather stubbornly refused to leave your room until you showered and ate a single piece of toast. He came by every morning to check-in. He made sure you knew, above all else, that you had him.

Your throat prickled with grief. You turned away from Carmy and pretended to look at his kitchen countertop, touching the wooden spoons on the stove. You needed Carmy to know that he had you. He wasn’t alone. Romantic feelings aside, you were friends, and you looked out for each other.

He shrugged, fishing his cigarettes out of his front pocket, “I can shower in the morning.”

“No way!” You snatched the cigarette from his mouth, “Carmen.”

His brow furrowed. “What?”

Your shoulders relaxed imperceptibly beneath his tired, blue eyes. You schooled all joviality and teasing from your expression and tone. It was important he took care of himself. He couldn’t bury his head in the sand and keep trudging along like a beast of burden.

“Do you trust me?”

“Y-yeah. Yeah, of course.”

“Then trust me when I say you’ll feel better after a shower.”

He bristled. “I feel fine.”

“Well, you look like shit.” You held out your open palm, “Cigarettes, please. You can have them back after your shower.”

His eyelashes fluttered and a familiar confused light entered his expression. “You’re being more bullheaded than usual.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

He paused, licking his lips, “Why?”

Your jaw slackened. You stared up at him in the quiet light of his kitchen, his unlit cigarette pinched between your index and middle finger, the refrigerator buzzing next to you. Wasn’t it obvious? You cared about him. Sometimes you cared about him a little too much, a little too hard, but you were sick of shoving those feelings into a box and denying them. It didn’t matter if Carmy didn’t feel the same way. It didn’t matter that he was uninterested in dating. Your big, stupid heart liked him. You might as well spell it out for him since he continued to be obtuse.

“You had a shit day,” You said, “And I care about you.”

“Everyone had a shit day.” Carmy pressed his lips together. “Richie got stabbed.” He raised his eyebrows as if expecting a unique reaction from you. You merely blinked, mildly annoyed at his avoidance, and confused by his mention of Richie. Who cared if Richie got stabbed? He probably deserved it.

“Okay. And?”

“I don’t know.” He huffed. “His issue’s bigger than mine.”

“I’m not friends with Richie.” You proclaimed. “I’m friends with you.”

You placed Carmy’s cigarette between your lips and talked around it, “And you’re right, Richie’s issues are bigger than yours, but I don’t wanna be the one to try and tackle them.”

Carmy smiled softly and your heart melted. You were so stupidly into him that it was embarrassing. He finally agreed to shower and left you alone with blue-gray cigarette smoke twirling above your head.

You waited until you heard the shower turn on before snooping through his small, undecorated apartment.

The kitchen refrigerator was desolate. A loaf of bread, jar of grape jelly, and a few cans of Coca-Cola and that was it. You winced. Your own fridge and pantry weren’t much better, but at least you had a few vegetables rotting in the crisper drawer. There were a bunch of folded denim jackets in the oven. Your face pinched in confusion. Who kept clothes in the oven? You made a mental note to ask about that later.

His bedroom wasn’t as exciting as you hoped. A red and orange striped blanket hung above the unmade bed. A white ashtray, alarm clock, and a virtually empty bottle of pink Pepto-Bismol rested on his nightstand. Everything about his apartment thus far felt featureless and transitional. This wasn’t a home. He didn’t live here - this was only the place where he kept his stuff. Your heart clenched at that revelation.

You gently smoothed his blankets until something bright near the door caught the edge of your vision. It couldn’t be.

Your fingertips touched the delicate origami crane hanging from the ceiling by a thin, fishing wire. It was unmistakably yours. He not only kept it, but he brought it home with him. You touched the sharp beak to your lips and closed your eyes for a lingering moment of gratitude and too-many-emotions at once. You released the crane from your tender grasp. It swung leisurely on the line. You were happy to know that it was here and watching over him. A piece of you, forever folded and flying in the corner of Carmy’s bedroom.

You wandered into the living room and located the single, solitary evidence of Carmy’s whole personality and career. A mountainous stack of cookbooks. A smile pulled at your lips. You snuffed your cigarette out on the coffee-table ashtray and sat on the floor beside them.

You opened a cookbook in your lap. You flipped through the pages, heart swelling at the notes annotated in the margins, the neon highlight across measurements and important ingredients. You set one aside and flipped through another. Your fingertips lovingly tracing the cramped, dark ink of Carmy’s handwriting. Well-loved. These pieces of him were adored, cared for, used but not worn or falling apart.

Some of his notes were practical like ‘better with a roux’, or ‘add 2tbsp not 1.’ Others were scathing and blustering with self-importance. He wrote ‘inedible. Too much salt’ or ‘it’s bad. Do not make this’. You smiled down at the cookbook.

Your heart blossomed with warmth, with quiet simmering affection, and gentle yearning. He might’ve started cooking because of Mikey, but you could plainly see his love for it. You saw how his love for his brother transitioned into what he could create and communicate with food.

You thought of the lunch he made and delivered after your dad visited. You flipped to the table of contents, checking, and then turned to the lemon chicken piccata. A yellow sticky-note bookmarked the page. Carmy’s tight, neat handwriting greeted you – literally – because it was your name on the post-it note.

Your heart stuttered and your eyes misted with unshed tears. He looked this up and made it for you. He tried to harass your dad into leaving you alone. He called you after your interview because he wanted to know how you were feeling. Your heart swelled and all the pieces clicked into place. A hopeful, resplendent ‘What If’ bubbled to the surface of your thoughts. What if you were wrong about your interaction during the Fourth of July fireworks? What if you trusted yourself and your instincts? All the physical evidence – his food, your crane, the shared cigarettes, your passing glances and lingering embrace, every quiet phone call in the dark and wordless moments charged with electricity. Your bones thrummed with want.

What if it wasn’t hopeless? What if he wanted to be with you? You idly turned to another page, lost in thought, your brow furrowed. To be fair—you never asked him outright. You simply alluded to a future, ambiguous desire to date in the future. You never clarified and perhaps you should have because you’re sitting on his floor instead of sharing the shower with him.

“What are you doing?”

Droplets of water dripped into his eyes from his curly bangs and onto his soft cotton t-shirt. The rumpled chaos that lived inside Carmy’s expression was hushed and softened by the low, intimate light of his living room.

“Looking for something to make, obviously.” You said with a pointed, overly dramatic roll of your eyes.

He stepped closer and glanced at your open page. He tilted his head to read it.

He said, “I’m fresh out of snails.”

“Bummer.”

You turned to another page at random. “Okay, how about seared swordfish with lemon grass and rice pilaf?”

“I think you’re overestimating my pantry.”

He sat next to you, legs crossed, and opened his hands to receive the book. Your arms and shoulders brushed as you passed it over. The book laid open like a holy offering in his lap. And he skated his tattooed hands across the page with silent reverence.

You leaned your chin onto his shoulder and tenderly asked, “Which one is your favorite?”

“From this book or in general?”

“The book first.” Your skin prickled with warmth. You inhaled deeply, smelling soap and shampoo, clean and sharp.

“Hm.” Carmy chewed his lower lip, pages turned, but your eyes stayed glued to him. “This one.”

He glanced at you briefly and raised his eyebrows, likely expecting you to pull away and look down.

You tilted forward and kissed him. His surprised grunt puffed softly against your lips.

You drew away, chastised and embarrassed, feeling more and more like the worlds’ biggest idiot. Carmy experienced his worst day in the restaurant, and you were making moves on him. Despicable. Deplorable. You were the worst friend. You panicked with wide, nervous eyes. You didn’t even know with if he still liked you. Your actions were a gamble on hope and foolishness. You needed to backtrack, have a conversation, make things right before you lost him completely. Anxiety swirled in your stomach with a venomous power.

“I’m—” Your apology vanished beneath the firm pressure of Carmy’s mouth.

His hand lifted from the glossy pages, a smudge of ink on his thumb, and he cradled your jaw. You deepened the kiss in response and your anxiety vanished into smoke.

It felt inevitable, really. Like you were destined to do this from the moment he held your hand at Lake Michigan. You pushed your fingers through his silky, wet hair and you flinched each time droplets hit your skin. The book clattered loudly to the floor when you swung your leg over his lap to straddle him.

You held his face between your hands, pressing your torso flush against his, and seeing if you could transmute all your feelings about him into physical touch. Words could come later. Right now, you wanted only to touch him, to feel him, and give yourself everything you denied for months because you weren’t worthy.

He exhaled between your lips and clutched around your waist. He clung to you like he was drowning, and you were a piece of driftwood in a storm. His tongue delved into your mouth, eliciting a moan from your throat, and his hands went beneath your shirt, warm and calloused against your spine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He must’ve slipped and hit his head in the shower because there was no possible way this was real. You were kissing him, moaning sweetly into his mouth, your fingers carding through his hair. His fingertips met the clasp of your bra. He pushed his fingers underneath it, but he wasn’t trying to unfasten it. He only wanted to touch your skin. He felt the glorious, wonderful flex of your shoulder blades beneath his palms when your hands traveled from his face to hold his shoulders.

He mumbled your name, honeyed and warm on his tongue, with relief. He thought he’d never do this again—thought he’d never have the chance—assumed you’d never want him. You sucked his lower lip and desire ran like ribbons through his veins.

Everything; all the bullshit, all his stress and anxiety, melted like ice in a heatwave. You were a balm to his tattered, worn soul. He didn’t know if you wanted him only for sex, but right now that question was irrelevant. Because you were here. You were in his shitty, little apartment and you were on his lap and kissing him and God—God he never wanted to stop. He wanted to spend the rest of the evening like this, locked in your embrace, breathing the same air as you. When he saw you sitting on the floor, flipping through his books, burdened by a furrowed brow—he wrestled the urge to crouch down and smooth the pucker between your eyebrows with his thumb. He never considered himself a physical, touchy person.

It happened when you entered a room. That overwhelming desire to brush his skin against yours in a passing, accidental touch that sent a shiver down his spine. His hands splayed against your back, covering as much surface area as possible and holding you close. He wasn’t good at much (just the one thing—cooking), but he was good at touching you. He was good at making you gasp, your hips gyrating onto his, every inch of you pressed close. His face flamed with pride. Your tongue played along his, stroking and teasing, sending molten-hot licks of desire straight down his spine and into his abdomen.

You sighed against his mouth and pressed your forehead to his, gently playing with his hair at the nape of his flushed neck. He saw his haggard reflection in the blown-wide pupils of your eyes and your lips shone softly with salvia.

“C’mon.” You breathed. Anticipation was a drug burning through his veins. You climbed off his lap and held out both your hands for him. His fingers wrapped around yours and you half-heartedly pulled him from the floor. He was in a trance following you into his small bedroom. How many times did he dream of this scenario? Too many to count, he was sure. He bit the inside of his cheek to confirm if he wasn’t’ hallucinating.

You bunched the fabric of your shirt at the hem and pulled it off your body in a single, fluid motion. Carmy’s throat went dry. His desk lamp painted sharp, contrasted white light down the angles and curves of your body. You were gorgeous. You were perfect. You were too many inches away.

His fingertips ghosted along your exposed hip, and you turned halfway toward him, and rested your face on his, your nose skimming along his cheek. His eyelashes fluttered at the simple, innocent touch. He shuddered, exhaled with longing, and carefully—slowly—pressed his mouth to the corner of yours. Your sharp inhale and the way your body trembled under his touch told him everything he needed to know.

“Do you have a shirt I can borrow?” You said, “To sleep in.”

“Mhm.” He nodded. “Right now?”

You held him by the shoulders and smiled against his cheek.

“Yes. Right now.”

He leant back to see your face in full view to determine the emotion in your eyes. “We’re not—I mean you don’t want to…?” He cleared this throat awkwardly, “We don’t have to do anything.”

You shook your head, “No, no, I want to. It’s just…” Your palm settled on his cheek, mollifying him.

“I want to sleep with you.” Your mouth thinned, “And I want to have sex with you. Just not, um, not tonight.”

He burned with relief and a rampant, desperate yearning. He wanted to show you exactly how he felt about you. Not with words, or with food, but with his hands and his body, and make up for all the lost time that laid like a wraith between you. But he could wait a little longer.

All he said was, “Okay.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carmy gave you one of his white t-shirts. You shimmied off your pants, hyperaware of Carmy’s gaze burning into the backs of your thighs and crawled into bed with him. The sheets were soft and cool on your bare skin. You sidled next to him and wrapped your arms around him without a second thought. You felt the tension gradually seep from him until his face tucked near your collarbone and his leg wedged between yours. You were entirely tangled in each other. Despite the lack of movement, your heart pounded furiously, and your nape tingled with warmth. You weren’t sure if you’d get any sleep with Carmy so close and warm on you.

“Is this…” His curly crown tickled your chin when you spoke, “Okay?” You asked quietly.

“Mm.”

You hummed with satisfaction. “Good.” You listened to the steady inhale and exhale of Carmy’s breathing and felt the strong, thunderous pulse of his heart. You traced shadows in the darkness and smiled lightly at the crane hanging near the doorway.

He whispered against your skin, “I flipped out today.” His breath tickled your neck. “I blew up on Syd. On Marcus. I just – I couldn’t– I couldn’t...”

You started combing your fingers through his fluffy, silken hair. His shoulders relaxed and his body weight sank further into you.

“I couldn’t deal.” He said. He went through the day and told you everything. The to-go catastrophe, Tina’s son, Marcus’ inattention, and Syd’s mistake. His talked about his shitty behavior, how it felt like no one was listening to him, how Richie got stabbed and how the iPad kept freezing. You listened attentively and worked your fingers through his damp hair.

“It’s fucked.” He admitted feebly. “Cicero was right.”

He sighed, “I don’t know what I’m gonna fucking do.”

You tilted your chin down and pressed a brief, shallow kiss to his head. “Sleep on it.”

“Seriously?”

He lifted from your chest and his mouth drifted over yours. Your core throbbed and you wished to seal your lips over his. Yet, you resisted the urge. You wanted to this right. You needed to be transparent and honest about your intentions and desires. Because you wanted to try dating even if you weren’t perfect or wholly recovered. But you weren’t about to broach that topic of conversation with him tonight. Tonight, was about healing, and coping, and comfort. The relationship conversation would happen tomorrow.

In the light of a new day, yesterday’s problems were smaller, and tender bruises of the past started to heal.

“There’s nothing you can do tonight.” You said perceptively. “I’ll be here in the morning. We’ll deal with the damage together.”

In the darkness, his nose bumped into yours.

“Together, huh?”

Your nerves skittered along your skin, “Y-yeah.”

He closed the scant distance between you. His kiss blistered every valve of your heart, robbed your breath, and etched across your bone marrow. You whined, twisting your fingers into his hair, and arched your hip upward into his. His hands slid down your legs, exposed soft skin meeting his rough, calloused palms. Your resolve wavered.

You grumbled against his smiling mouth, “Stop tempting me.”

“Sorry.” He said not sounding sorry at all, “You’re – uh – hard to resist.”

You chuckled and your ego blossomed from his compliment. “I’m sure you say that to all the girls.”

“No.” A beat. “It’s only ever been you.”

If you were standing, you might’ve swooned. Only you? Was he being serious? You remembered your past conversations, his admissions of loneliness, and his lack of any romantic or platonic relationships. He wasn’t a liar. Something that you appreciated about Carmy was his habit for honesty. He might avoid certain topics, or dodge questions, but– to your knowledge – he never lied to you.

“Yeah, well…I’m the best…so…” You grinned.

His low, quiet chuckle warmed you to your toes. He returned his head to the crook of your neck. You re-adjusted your limbs, one arm over his shoulders, the other curled over his mid-back. His weight was warm and heavy draped across you, and you listened to his breath shallow-out and deepen. You hoped his dreams were peaceful. You hoped he’d get a solid eight hours of sleep. He deserved it.

“Carmen Berzatto.” You mouthed to the darkness, “I think I’m in love with you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carmy rolled onto his stomach and squinted his eyes open. The world was hazy and dark, and he surmised it must be late evening. A soft blue-light glowed from your phone screen as you held it close to your face. So, it wasn’t a dream. At the sight of you, his heart swelled in his chest, and a dozen confessions sprung to life behind his teeth. He wished he could wake up to you in his bed for the next hundred-thousand mornings. And the things you said last night…about dealing with things together…did you maybe want…?

You glanced over to him, “Shit. Did I wake you?”

“N-no.” His voice rumbled deeply with sleep, “What time is it?”

“A little past midnight.”

“It’s tomorrow then.”

You set your phone aside, “Yeah, sure. Technically.” You worried your lower lip between your teeth, “Can I just say something before I lose my nerve?”

Carmy tucked his bended arm under his head and nodded sleepily. He couldn’t imagine anything terrifying you or causing you nerves. You were the bravest person alive.

“I want…” You exhaled deliberately through your nostrils. “I want to be with you. I mean - I want to date you.”

He perked up, “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry my timing is shitty.” You said hurriedly and sat up against his pillows. “I understand if you don’t want to – or – or can’t – but…”

You looked at him, earnest and sweet, “I really like you, Carmy.” You said, “More than expected.”

He inhaled with awe and adoration filling his lungs. None of the awards, the accolades, or praise he received as a Chef came close to this admission from you. You liked him. You wanted to date him.

“I’ve never…” He swallowed, “dated.”

Your tone was dubious, “Ever?”

“I’ve always been – um – focused on my career.” He said, “Didn’t really try to, y’know, date.”

And he didn’t think anyone would want to date him. He wasn’t funny, or interesting, and he simply didn’t have the time to get to know someone. His first sexual encounter was in culinary school. He barely remembered it. Not because he was drunk, or high, but because it was unremarkable. Everyone was celebrating the end of year, one thing led to another, and he slept with someone. That was it. He didn’t understand the ‘big deal’ or why his fellow classmates would skip out of class for their partners or celebrate their roommates being away.

After that solitary experience, Carmy shelved sexual relationships into the lowest possible tier of priority in his life. It wasn’t necessary, or important, or even fun. Until he met you. Until you kissed him with scorching intensity and passion. Until you rode on his thigh and Carmy felt himself become someone else. Someone cool and suave who could have gorgeous and maddening girls in his car. And when you came all over his fingers, he felt like a fucking rockstar, and entertained the idea that sex could be fun and invigorating.

You asked, “Do you want to try?” Your fingertips trailed up his bicep.

Carmy leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, gentle kiss. You let him be tender for a few seconds before you flicked your tongue into his mouth in askance. He opened his mouth for you and your tongue slid past his lips with a gorgeously, delicious sweep.

He pulled away slightly, “Only with you.”

“I never had much time for relationships either. I might be awful at it.” You warned.

He held you under your chin, leveling your eyes to meet his, “D’you wanna figure it out together?”

“Yeah.” You laughed and your smile lingered. “I really, really do.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You yanked your borrowed shirt over your head and tossed it aside. His hands skated across your waist, your legs, your stomach, before coming to your breasts and squeezing them. You arched your back and pressed your chest into his warm, rough palms. He kissed you like he might fall apart if he didn’t. He swallowed your moans, reveling in them, tasting them.

He slotted his hips into yours. You could feel the hard, thick length of him through his sweatpants against your damp underwear. Your body writhed and you were no better than teenagers dry humping at the drive-in movie theater. His mouth traveled down the column of your throat, and you were reminded of the pale red hickeys he used to gift you.

He said, “There’s something I want…I want to try.”

Your curiosity piqued. “Alright…”

He kissed between the valley of your breasts and pulled your underwear down your legs. They caught on your ankle. You kicked them off. Your body hummed with enthusiasm. With need. Carmy spread your thighs with both hands and bit his lower lip, staring down at you glistening beneath him. Your walls fluttered and you suspected his train of thought before the words left his kiss-swollen lips.

“I want to go down on you.”

Good God. Your stomach clenched.

“I know last time you didn’t want to.”

“It was too intimate.” You explained quickly. He snapped his gaze to you and his blue irises were nearly swallowed by his lust-filled pupils.

“We had sex on your desk.” His lips twisted into a wry grin.

You waved a dismissive hand. “Sex is different.”

“What about now?” He asked, “Now that we’re going to date. Do you – um – still not want to do that?”

The mental image alone of Carmy between your legs made your cunt pulse with need. It was different now. He wasn’t a stranger, or a fuck buddy, or a rival. He was a friend. A soon-to-be boyfriend. Hopefully.

“Okay.” You flexed your hands on the sheets. Carmy smiled, boyish and adorable, and you fell a little harder for him. He maneuvered himself to lie between your legs. His tattooed calloused hands squeezed the soft, delicate skin of your inner thighs. And your walls throbbed at the look he gave you, peering at you through his curls and long eyelashes, his breath warm and tickling your clit.

“You’re sure?”

You nodded, fingers twining through his hair, “Yeah.”

“I’ve never done this before.” He confessed and a note of bashfulness creeped into his voice. “I’ve only seen it in porn, but I want to. I want to make you…” He lightly kissed your thigh and your hips twitched forward.

“I want to make you feel good.”

You released a strangled, “Okay.”

His mouth traveled across your thigh, sucking softly, before he kissed across your stomach and worked downward to your other inner thigh. You squirmed, huffing, desperate for him to touch you. He skimmed his thumb across your swollen, aching clit and you hissed, head arching back into his pillow, and squirming.

“Good?” He asked.

“Very—” You swallowed roughly, “--Good.”

His tongue, warm and wet, flicked across you—a light touch that you assumed had more to do with Carmy’s own hesitation than outright teasing.

Your chest heaved and you clung to the back of Carmy’s head with a quiet, needy whimper. Regardless of his inexperience, you’re so outrageously turned-on that you’re going to orgasm quickly no matter what.

He laid his tongue flat, licking a stripe along your folds, and you quivered with an encouraging, “Please.”

His large, beautiful nose nudged your clit, his eyes slipping shut as his tongue pushed through your folds and slid into your cunt. He experimented with long licks and short laps, all the while his nose pressed into your clit, your thighs trembled on his shoulders and clenched around his head.

He groaned into you and your eyes squeezed so tightly that you saw stars.

His lips traveled, suckling, kissing wetly and noisily until they closed over your clit.

You moaned, loud and unapologetic, and a high-pitched “Fuck” trailed after the sound.

You bucked your hips into him, panting, the faint stubble of his chin rubbed against your cunt. Your fingers slipped from his hair. You grabbed his hand, interlacing your fingers and squeezing, while your other hand clutched and twisted his sheets.

“Carmy, please. Touch me.” You begged, feeling your walls pulse and flutter around nothing, your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. Carmy shifted, nudging your thigh out of the way, and you nearly weep with relief at the sensation of his finger curled into you. You lost yourself to the sensations—his warm mouth, his large hands, the quiet moans he released as you thrust into him, erratic and crazed with desire. You came apart with a throaty, unrestrained scream. Everything tightened and tensed before your orgasm washed over you in thick, honeyed waves.

You sank into the mattress and blinked at Carmy, his chin and lips glistened wetly with saliva and your release. You blanketed your eyes with your forearm.

“Holy shit.” You breathed.

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Months?” You guessed.

“Months.”

You heard a rustle of fabric and movement. You peered out from underneath your arm and saw Carmy rolling a condom onto his engorged cock. You wished you could feel him without the latex and made a mental note to figure out an alternative form of birth control. He hovered over you, bracing himself with one arm, while the other grasped the base of his cock and positioned his tip at your weeping core.

You trembled and gripped his shoulders. He met your eyes, a question lingering in their depths, and you nodded. His cock pushed forward, and you gasped, shuddering.

Carmy exhaled roughly and whispered, “Fuck!”

Every second was pure, beautiful torture as his cock slid into you. Your walls stretched to accommodate him. Your spine bowed, chest lifting from the bed, as your thighs held onto his hips. He fit perfectly. How had you never noticed before? It was like you were made for each other. He buried himself to the hilt and your body was swaddled by his, surrounded, sweaty and warm.

His mouth covered yours. He didn’t thrust, but grinded, his movements shallow and slow. His cock, deep and filling you, his pelvic bone pressed into your sensitive clit. You were wholly and completely his. Adored. Enraptured. Stupid with love. Your walls squeezed him, and he moaned your name, his face flushed pink, and eyes closed.

He blindly peppered kisses across your jaw, to the curve of your ear, your neck. His thrusts were deep and lingering. You hiccupped a surprised cry each time he bottomed out. It was as if he was trying to mold himself into you. Every deliberate, slow thrust drove you closer and closer to the brink of release. You opened your eyes and witnessed golden, muted light framing Carmy’s face and curls with angelic luminosity. The disheveled white sheets shifted over his lower back and along your hips. The bed squeaked beneath you. You were suddenly struck by the intimacy of this moment. The gentleness of it.

You ran your nails down his muscular, slick back and kissed his collarbone before falling back onto the pillows.

“Not gonna last very long.” He groaned, pressing his forehead to yours.

“That sounds like a compliment.” You laughed, your heart brimming with light and hope.

“Mhm.” He flattened his palms on the mattress, holding himself upright so you were no longer chest-to-chest, and you were deprived of of his warmth and heavy pressure. But he quickly made up for it when he started thrusting with singular, driven purpose. And you found yourself spellbound. Just like the first time, you were lost to the sensations and sounds, your world narrowed into this moment. There was only Carmy, and you, and white sheets touched by gold.

You reached for him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close to you. He curled an arm under your arched spine, pining you close, and you felt his heartbeat and his sweat and every heaving, desperate breath that left him. You hooked your legs around his waist in an attempt to pull him deeper.

“Oh, god.” He rasped into the shell of your ear. Your lips met the joining of his neck and shoulder and your teeth scraped across the tendon. You wished you could melt into him. Carmy’s breath hitched. His hips stuttered. He lost himself in you, buried deep, his brow pinched and breathing ragged. He panted your name over and over as he came.

He collapsed, face falling into your shoulder, his body limp and boneless.

You placed a chaste kiss on his stubbled cheek, “Have I killed you?”

His response was muffled by your skin. “Mm, yeah.”

“Ahh, well.” You clicked your tongue.

“We had a good run.” You teased, your fingertips gliding across his sweaty shoulder blades. He shivered beneath your touch and lifted his head. His eyes were wonderfully clear and—dare you say it? Happy. He looked happy. A new light entered his eyes, smoldering and bright, crinkling the corners of them and drawing lines around his lips. The dimple in his cheek made a blessed appearance.

“How many hours until you need to be at the bakery?” He asked, surprising you.

You glanced at his alarm clock, “Four.”

“Okay.” He pulled out. You flinched a little at the tenderness of your folds and walls. You considered searching for your underwear and borrowed t-shirt when Carmy’s hands slipped between your thighs.

You gasped at his touch and clutched his wrist with wide, confused eyes.

“What are you—?” Your head fell back into the pillows and your thighs reflexively clamped as he stroked you, “Carmy. It’s – ah, fuck – it’s sensitive.”

His ministrations slowed, “Do you want me to stop?”

“No.” You worried your lower lip, “Be gentle, though.”

He listened. His lips and tongue worked over your breasts, your nipples, your neck. His thumb moved in lazy, careful patterns over your clit. Your fingertips dug into his strong, firm arms or clutched his soft, curly hair. You relaxed into the mattress and your second orgasm came to you in a magnificent, pleasant pulse of heat and fireworks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carmy curled around you like a missing puzzle piece. His arm wrapped snug around your waist and your spine fit comfortably against his chest. Every sense immersed and saturated with him. You nestled in the warmth, and safety, and comfort of his bed and inside his arms.

“See you in the morning.” You muttered sleepily, while your hand gently stroked across the fine, light hairs on his forearm. He didn’t reply, but squeezed you closer, and pressed a kiss to the nape of your neck.

You fell asleep with a smile on your face.

#carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto smut

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mercurialrain · 13 days

Text

Master Post of my Fics!

Updated as of 4/6/24! All links are for Ao3 and rated G/T unless noted otherwise. :)

Completed multi-chaptered Felinette fics:

Silver Lining

Ocelli (rated M)

Felinette Month 2021 (collection of unrelated oneshots)

Incomplete multi-chaptered Felinette fics:

The Royal Conundrum (permanent hiatus)

Felinette Spooktacular (discontinued)

Felinette Oneshots:

Fairy Circles

Spring in the Underworld

Blossom

History Lessons in Love

Quite A Life

And That's the Tea

Sand in the Eyes is a Beach

Stare

Delivery!

It Was in the Cards

Cat's Out of the Bag?

Guardian Angel

Kiss of Truth

Scaredy Cat

A Viper Means Trouble

On the Throne (rated M)

A Cup of Sugar

Heart Attack

A Curse Upon You

Gone Fishing

You Rock

I Couldn't Have, I Was Playing Hopscotch with Hawkmoth

Flower Crowns (rated M)

Counterparts

Most Eligible Bachelor (rated M)

Lukanette fics:

Scales and Tails (chaptered fic)

Bluebell Eyes (oneshot)

i can see the colors (when i'm with you) (oneshot)

Multi-Chaptered Lockwood & Co fics:

On the Fence (Locklyle, ongoing)

Lockwood & Co Oneshots:

if i see but one smile on your lips when we meet (Locklyle)

Lemon Glaze (Locklyle)

i'm an apostrophe; i'm just a symbol to remind you that there's more to see(Locklye)

simple as can be, i'm gonna be around (Trio bonding)

don't worry, I got you (Locklyle)

okay, show me (rated M) (Locklyle)

i'd draw you too (Locklyle)

you're the smartest person i know (George & Lucy bonding)

i can't wait for you (Minor Locklyle, mostly trio shenanigans)

do you recognize this? (Minor Locklyle, mostly trio shenanigans)

give me that, before anything happens (Trio shenanigans)

i wouldn't do that if i were you (Locklyle)

it's alright, i'm here (Locklyle)

tell me you feel it too (rated M) (Locklyle)

Use It to Fight For Your Life (TW for suicidal thoughts) (Minor Locklyle)

Hidden Knives (Locklyle)

Star Wars:

You Cake My Day (Reylo, ongoing)

#felinette #felix graham de vanily #felinette spooktacular #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #george karim #star wars #reylo #rey of jakku #ben solo

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childes-w1fe · 9 days

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♫𝑮𝑶𝑹𝑮𝑬𝑶𝑼𝑺♫ | Childe x Fem! Reader

❝𝙊𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙡𝙪𝙚 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚, 𝙄 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙄 𝙢𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙞𝙚.❞ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

𓇼𓍢ִִ໋🌊🐚˖✩࿐࿔˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚

Attending a prestigious university near your hometown, you live alone in your mansion by the vacant, serene seaside. You spend your extra free time playing video games to distract the raging waves of your loneliness.

Your life hadn't been smooth sailing for the majority of your childhood, and now, you could finally thrive, peacefully.

However, when you arrived back home after another morning of classes, the normal comfort of your home was replaced with a cold-tense feeling that flagged every warning sign in your body.

So when a muscular arm held a cold-translucent spear up to your neck when you moved to exit, you slowly turned your head to look at your captor, ignoring the sting from where the water blade was beginning to draw blood.

A shiver ran down your spine when you caught a glimpse of bright ginger locks and ocean-blue eyes.

Now, you had a reason to be scared

𓇼𓍢ִִ໋🌊🐚˖✩࿐࿔˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚

❝Whisky on ice, Sunset and Vine— You've ruined my life, by not being mine.❞

𓇼𓍢ִִ-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

𝑨𝑼𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑹𝑺 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬✎

✧.*Thank you for reading my Childe x Female reader! Update times aren't confirmed, as I run on a schedule of when I can update. Please keep in mind that I'm currently in high-school and have many classes a day. One could even say I spend more time at school than I do at home. I am very busy and that's not even including what I have to to outside of school. Not to mention if I get sick, or my mental health. (I do have depression.) Also—please don't ask for updates, in a rude way, of course. I don't mind if you only ask once, as I will give you an answer anyway.

✧.*I do not own Childe, or any other Genshin Impact characters included in this story. They belong to Mihoyo. Any of the art used in this story isn't mine unless I specifically state otherwise.

✧.*Trigger warnings will be provided at the beginning of each chapter. Including lime. I'm not so sure if I'll be writing lemon yet, but we'll see.

✧.*The reader in this story is female, or what you would call afab, and uses the pronouns She/Her and They/Them. If this doesn't apply to you, I apologize. As a Demi-girl, I feel more comfortable writing a female protagonist.

𓇼𓍢ִִ໋🌊🐚˖✩࿐࿔˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　　　　　　 ✦

ੈ✩‧₊˚𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

"Gorgeous," by Taylor Swift

❝Whisky on ice, Sunset and Vine, You've ruined my life, by not being mine.❞

"Paper Rings," by Taylor Swift

❝I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings.❞

"Ocean Eyes," by Billie Eilish

❝Can't stop starin' at those ocean eyes. Burning cities and napalm skies—Fifteen flares inside those ocean eyes.❞

"Bust Your Knee Caps," by Pomplamoose

❝Jonny don't leave me, You said you'd love me forever. Honey, believe me—I'll have your heart on a platter-❞

"Somethin' Stupid," by Frank Sinatra

❝The time is right, your perfume fills my head—The stars get red, and, oh, the night's so blue, And then I go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like, "I love you"-❞

"High School Sweethearts," by Melanie Martinez

❝Can we just be honest? These are the requirements—If you think you can be my one and only true love..❞

"Do I Wanna Know?" by Arctic Monkeys

❝'Cause there's this tune I found that makes me think of you somehow and I play it on repeat-❞

"I Wanna Be Yours," by Arctic Monkeys

❝At least as deep as the Pacific Ocean—Now I wanna be yours-❞

"Supermassive Black Hole," by Muse

❝I thought I was a fool for no one—Ooh baby, I'm a fool for you-❞

"Panic Station," by Muse

❝Oooh 1, 2, 3, 4 fire's in your eyes—And this chaos, it defies imagination. Ooo 5, 6, 7, minus 9 lives—You've arrived at panic station.❞

"Teeth," by 5 Seconds of Summer

❝Call me in the morning to apologize—Every little lie gives me butterflies-❞

"Sucker For Pain," Imagine Dragons

❝Walk slow through the fire like, who gon' try us?—Take my hand through the flames—I'm a slave to your games—I'm just a sucker for pain-❞

"Him and I," by G-Easy

❝Cross my heart, hope to die—To my lover, I'd never lie-❞

"Animals," by Maroon 5

❝Baby, I'm preying on you tonight—Hunt you down eat you alive-❞

"Paralyzer," by Finger Eleven

❝Well, I'm not paralyzed, but I seem to be struck by you. I wanna make you move because you're standin' still. If your body matches what your eyes can do.❞

"Dance Macabre," by Ghost

❝How could it end like this? There's a sting in the way you kiss me-❞

"Kiss The Go-Goat," by Ghost

❝It ain't always what it seems—When you cling onto a dream—it ain't always there to please you. But he's the guy you wanna do—And you know that it takes two, luckily he wants to do you too.❞

"The Death of A Bachelor," Panic! At The Disco

❝The lace in your dress tingles my neck, how do I live? The death of a bachelor—Oh oh-❞

"Don't Threaten Me With A Good Time," Panic! At The Disco

❝Five thousand people with designer drugs—Don't think I'll ever get enough—Champagne, cocaine, gasoline, and most things in between-❞

"Miss Jackson," by Panic! At The Disco

❝A pretty picture but the scenery is so loud—A face like heaven catching lighting in your nightgown-But back away from the water babe, you might drown-❞

"Wolf in Sheep's Clothing," by Set It Off

❝Beware, beware, be skeptical—Of their smiles, their smiles of plated gold—Deceit, so natural, but a wolf in sheep's clothing is more than a warning.❞

"Rasputin," by Boney M.

❝There lived a certain man in Russia long ago—He was big and strong, in his eyes a flaming glow-❞

"Killshot," by Magdalena Bay

❝Something chronic—Bit demonic—Sin and tonic—Stupid promise—Can you make my heart stop? Hit me with your kill shot baby-❞

"Smooth Criminal," Micheal Jackson

❝You've been hit by—You've been hit by a smooth criminal.❞

"I Was Made For Lovin' You," by KISS

❝I was made for lovin' you, baby—You were made for lovin' me. And I can't get enough of you, baby—Can you get enough of me?❞

"Island In The Sun," by Weezer

❝When you're on a golden sea, you don't need no memory—Just a place to call your own—We'll run away together—We'll spend some time forever—We'll never feel bad anymore.❞

"You Give Love a Bad Name," Bon Jovi

❝Shot through the heart—And you're to blame. Darlin', you give love a bad name-❞

"Maneater," Nelly Furtado

❝Everybody look at me, me—I walk in the door, you start screaming-❞

"Partners In Crime," by Set It Off

❝You'll never takes us alive—We swore that death will do us part—They'll call our crimes a work of art.❞

"Rock Your Body," by Justin Timberlake

❝Don't be so quick to walk away—Dance with me—I wanna rock your body—Just wanna rock you girl.❞

"Criminal," by Brittney Spears

❝But mama I'm in love with a criminal—And this type of love isn't rational, it's physical-❞

"Dangerous," by Left Boy

❝Dangerous, ooh!, that sounds good yeah—Talk to me baby, like I'm your dude-❞

"Once More To See You," by Mitski

❝In the rearview mirror, I saw the setting sun on your neck—And felt the taste of you bubble up inside me, but with everybody watching us, our every move—We do have reputations—We keep it secret—If you would let me give you pinky promise kisses then I wouldn't have to scream your name atop of every roof in the city of my heart.❞

"There's Nothing Left For You," by Mitski

❝There's nothin' left for you—Nothin' in this room. Try and go outside—Nothin' waits for you. You had it once before—Not anymore—So go on to that sweetheart's door and find a new you.❞

"Recently," by Liana Flores

❝Hand in hand—The flowers understand that we're fine, you and I—Hands are tied. I don't mind—I'll make you be okay—And frequently I picture myself walking straight into the sea, laughing as the waves come rolling to my knees—What a place to be.❞

"Here With Me," by d4vd

❝I don't care how long it takes, as long as I'm with you I've got a smile on my face.❞

"Golden Hour," by JVKE

❝I was all alone with the love of my life. She's got glitter for skin—My radiant beam in the night.❞

𓇼𓍢ִִ໋🌊🐚˖✩࿐࿔˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

𓇼𓍢ִִ໋🌊🐚˖✩࿐࿔˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚

⋘ 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡... ⋙

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ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ!

→𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . .

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : "Gorgeous," by Taylor Swift

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

❝You should think about the consequence Of your magnetic field being a little too strong❞

𓇼𓍢ִִ-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

𓇼𓍢ִִ໋🌊🐚˖✩࿐࿔˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　　　　　　 ✦

Dust arose from the old book you opened, the pages were fragile from many years of wear and tear.

You borrowed it from your family's overly large library, which looked like it belonged in a rustic castle, not a mansion located on a cliff near the sea.

Running your fingers over the decrepit pages, your eyes followed the faded words one by one.

"Το μέλλον," The title read.

Despite only being 10, you were far more intelligent than most children your age.

You knew a few different languages and took multiple advanced classes in school.

Though your family still didn't think you were good enough.

A frown spread across your face at the thought, the rainbow shimmer inside of your (e/c) irises, which your family also thought was odd, grew slightly cloudy.

Shaking your head to dismiss the looming sadness crowding your head, you looked at the title on the dusty book closer.

From what you could tell, the words read, "The Future," but in Greek.

Flipping through the pages, you skimmed over the sentences, seeing nothing interesting, until a certain tragedy plastered onto the top of a page caught your attention.

"The flood?"

Pressing the book harder onto the table, you leaned in closer, analyzing every word inked onto the paper.

Around 9 years ago, a disastrous flood wiped out a majority of the town you lived around 40 minutes away from.

Buildings were damaged, some almost beyond repair, and many families moved to get away from the aftermath. Others, however, weren't so lucky.

Nowadays, a town like yours, next to a large beach with white sands and crystal blue water, would be bursting at the seams with people and greedy contractors trying to sell out the locals.

But the flood prevented that from happening.

And now, only locals remained in the now-rebuilt beach town, which looks almost brand new.

A major part of you was thankful for nature protecting your little slice of paradise from those who didn't belong.

The words on the pages described what happened during the flood in great detail, and the more you read, the more disturbed you became.

This book had to be multiple decades old, so why did it describe the tragedy so perfectly?

Lost in the rapid currents of your thoughts, the familiar sound of stilettos clicking against wooden floors startled you out of your daze.

You jumped and almost fell from the latter you were leaning against.

Jumping down from the latter, and almost twisting your ankle, you opened a random drawer at the bottom of the bookcase and shoved the book in it.

The large door to the library opened with a creak, as the sound of heels against the floor ceased.

"What are you up to?"

You turned around quickly, a guilty smile plastered on your face.

"Nothing Mother— I was just looking for a new book to read..." A worn-out sigh left your mouth, as your hands moved to brush the dust off of the expensive material of your dress.

She raised an eyebrow, a sour look overtaking her face. "Mhm. If only all that reading you've done would help with your studies." Your mother placed her hand on her hip, tapping her sleek-black stiletto against the wooden flooring.

You frown, feeling yourself lose patience. "Is there something you need?"

"It's Ma'am to you. And yes, there is. Your father is hosting a party with his colleagues and I don't need you looking trashy in front of business." She walks up to you as you back up into the bookshelf, cowering as you feel a manicured nail press against your shoulder.

"I've commissioned a designer dress for you, it's hanging in your room. All you have to do is to sit still and look pretty. Don't mess up."

Your frown deepens. "Yes Ma'am..."

She looks you up and down, the sour look remaining. "Good. Don't disappoint our family name."

Flipping her hair, your mother removed her nail from your shoulder, a crescent mark evidence of her anger, and walked away, not bothering to shut the door as her quieting footsteps furthered away.

Sliding down onto the floor, you sighed, your silk dress draping around you and flowering onto the floor.

"What I'd give for peace."

𓇼𓍢ִִ໋🌊🐚˖✩࿐࿔˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚

After some time on the floor to regain your bearings, you dragged yourself up, exiting the library and walking up a flight of stairs to your room.

Despite your parents' coldness toward you, your room was beautiful and made you feel at peace every time you were in it.

Your bed sat at the bottom of your room, and a spiral staircase led to a second floor where your vanity among other things was.

A dull murmur left your mouth, as you opened the door to your large walk-in closet and flipped the light on, your eyes landing on the dress that lay on your closet's island.

Stepping closer, light and almost unsure, you admired the dress, eyes twinkling at the pretty fabric.

Even if you felt bitter towards your parents, you couldn't deny their obvious talent in fashion.

Against the light from your closet, the shimmery silver fabric or the gown sparkled, along with the light tint of (f/c) covering the material. The top of the dress fit a modest sweetheart neckline where the sparkly fabric was crossed over the other, with off-the-shoulder sleeves that draped off the shoulders from the excess material. A dark silver belt wrapped around the waist.

Smiling brightly, you picked up the dress and twirled around, an energetic giggle leaving your mouth.

"Maybe today won't be so bad after all."

Setting down the sparkling gown, you pulled the zipper down on the dress you were currently wearing and pulled it over your head, tossing it onto the floor to focus your attention on your new dress.

You patted down your petticoat and turned toward your attention to the gown lying on your island, carefully undoing the zipper.

With barely concealed excitement, you slipped the gown over your head, putting your arms through the sleeves and fixing the dress over your petticoat.

Your breath halted as you slowly walked over to the large mirror at the end of your closet.

The dress fit you perfectly and shimmered every time the light hit it, resembling a diamond in the sunlight.

A wide grin spread across your face as you clumsily stumbled out of your closet, leaving the door open and the lights on, and dangerously rushing up the spiral staircase in your room.

You approached your vanity and plopped down in the chair in front of it, opening one of the drawers and grabbing a few makeup products out of it.

A lopsided attempt at doing your makeup, you noticed, groaning and rubbing more eyeshadow onto your eyelid in an attempt to fix your mistakes.

Though you were better at most of your age makeup, you still had a lot to learn.

A knock on your door startled you out of what you were doing, and you almost dropped the brush in your hand.

Your eyes widened and you placed the brush back onto your vanity, almost falling out of your chair. "--Coming!"

Shifting came from behind the door as the knock increased in volume. "Ms. (Name)? Are you alright?"

The voice coming from the hallway caused you to sigh in relief.

Untangling your leg from the chair, (a result of not paying attention to your surroundings,) you walked over to your staircase and carefully, this time, walked down to your door.

You grabbed the door handle and opened the door, coming face to face with your maid, Arabella.

"I'm fine Ari–what's with that face?"

She stared at you with wide eyes, before her face twisted in a way that made her look like she was in pain.

Covering her mouth with her palm, she averted her eyes, attempting to not laugh at your predicament.

"Arabella?"

Arabella shook her head and calmed herself down, sighing and stepping toward you, placing a hand on your shoulder in sympathy. "Ms. (Name)...while I don't doubt your talents for a moment, I do believe you need some help with your makeup."

Now it was your turn to stand there fish-eyed.

Bashfully, the floorboards seemed most interesting as you looked at the floor, nodding in embarrassment.

She smiled at you and grabbed your hand, leading you up the stairs and guiding you to sit in front of your vanity.

"I'm guessing you favor a certain color, hm?"

Recovering from your embarrassment, you nodded, grabbing one of your many eyeshadow pallets and opening it to point at your favorite color.

"What a wonderful choice. This color suits your complexion."

Arabella grabbed a makeup wipe and held your chin as she wiped your makeup off in a gentle manner.

"Now–let's start fresh."

Grabbing a brush, Arabella began to lightly apply makeup to your face.

You hummed in pleasure at the soft motion, feeling yourself becoming sleepy. Who knew getting your makeup done could be so relaxing?

With a swift hand movement, Arabella applied a small amount of eyeliner over the shimmery eyeshadow you were wearing and then spun your chair around to face the mirror of your vanity.

"You can open your eyes now Ms. (Name)."

Peeking your eyes open, you grinned widely, beaming at the beautiful art on your face.

Arabella noticed your silence and began to worry. "Do you like it? I can redo it if you don't–"

"I love it!"

You rushed and engulfed her in an energetic hug.

She stumbled in shock before laughing and hugging your back, patting your head. "Now Ms. (Name). Let's not mess up your makeup just yet."

A huff left your mouth as you snickered, "Alright," you paused and let go of Arabella before smirking, "By the way, you can just call (Name)."

Arabella gaped before shaking her head. "Ma'am–"

"I see you as a friend. There's no need for formalities."

She gave you a warm smile. "Alright then, (Name)."

You giggled and she flicked you on the nose, rolling her eyes playfully. "It's almost time for you to greet your family's guests."

The calm expression on your face dampened and you frowned.

Arabella noticed your discomfort and gave you a reassuring smile. "You'll do great, I know you will," Reaching into the pocket of her apron, she pulled out a necklace and placed it against your neck," If it helps, I found this on the floor of the library when I was looking for you. When I saw it I immediately thought of you."

You looked down at the necklace and gasped when you saw a beautiful white-gold ring, set with large ruby crystals in the center and adorned with a few navy crystals along the rim. Flipping the ring over, you looked at the band, which had a narwhal carved into the thick part of the back and the letter A carved into the thin part of the band.

It sat perfectly on your collarbone, and the weight of the metal felt like it was meant to be there. Not to mention how the ring felt warm against your upper chest, and when you tried to remove it, frigidness would wash over you.

You smiled genuinely at your friend. "Thank you, Ari. For everything."

She pinched your cheek and lightly shoved you towards the door.

"Don't mention it." Arabella brushes off your dress and tucks a wild strand of your hair behind your ear. "Break a leg."

The nervous smile on your face shifted into one of confusion. "What?"

"It's an expression. You'll do great anyway, I know it."

Before you could press her even further, she pushed you out of your room and shut the door behind you.

A shaky sigh left your mouth and you made your way down the hallway, walking down two flights of stairs and reaching the entrance to the living room.

You spotted your mother's authoritarian figure standing in front of the doorway, arm linked with your fathers, who was laughing proudly, raising a glass of whiskey to toast.

Slinking quietly toward the entrance, you tried to slip inside to a corner where you wouldn't be noticed, but when your heels made a noise on the floor, your mother's sharp icy blue eyes turned towards you.

She gave you a look and you begrudgingly walked up to stand beside her.

A fierce whisper left her mouth. "You're late."

You gulped, cold sweat began to form as you could feel her free hand wrap around your wrist, her sharp nails threatening to break the skin.

"But you didn't say when to—"

"That's enough. I don't want to hear your excuses. The only thing you can do to atone for your mistakes is sit still and look pretty. Got it?"

"Yes, mother.." You nod, tears threatening to ruin your makeup.

"Good."

She released your wrist, but the mark remained, already red and irritated.

Your father had finally finished his speech and looked toward where you were standing. He seemed surprised to see you there but frowned when he saw your watery eyes.

He unlinked his arm with your mother and placed a hand on your shoulder, patting it softly.

You smiled through your tear-blurry eyes.

Everything would be okay.

𓇼𓍢ִִ໋🌊🐚˖✩࿐࿔˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚

The party had ended after a few more hours after the tipsy stragglers left.

With a renewed pep in your step, you gratefully left the living room, rushing up the stairs to the second floor to run back into the library.

Pushing the door open faster than you usually did, (and with the weight of the door, you'd be sore tomorrow,) you rushed toward the drawer you remember stashing the mysterious book in.

Flinging open the drawer, you found the book just where you had left it,

A relieved sigh left your mouth. "Thank goodness."

You pick up the book and stuff it under your petticoat, making sure it won't fall out.

Shutting the drawer, you ran out of the open library, not bothering to look and see if someone was inside the hallway to witness your odd behavior.

Another flight of stairs later and a few confused maids, you had made it back to your room and locked the door.

You sat the book on your nightstand, deciding you'd read more of it after you got some rest.

Quickly taking of your dress along with your other items, you took your makeup off and lunged into your bed, snuggling into the silk covers as you drifted off to sleep.

But, what you didn't realize is that the book had fallen off your nightstand, hitting the floor and opening up to reveal a read and gold mask.

𓇼𓍢ִִ໋🌊🐚˖✩࿐࿔˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚

❝𝙊𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙡𝙪𝙚 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚, 𝙄 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙄 𝙢𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙞𝙚.❞

🐚 ྀ࿓(Childe/Tartaglia/Ajax x Female Reader)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ @strawberrysunr1se 4/10/24

𓇼𓍢ִִ-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

#childe #tartaglia #childe tartagalia #genshin impact #childe x reader #childe x you #childe x y/n #tartaglia x reader #genshin childe #tartaglia x y/n #tartaglia x you #tartaglia smut #tartagila #childe tartaglia ajax #sub!childe

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whoahoney · 1 year

Text

glassy eyes, hazy afternoons pt 7

Eddie Munson x anxious!stoner!reader

Part 6

Summary: The night of the party has come… let the games begin.

Content warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, fem/afab!reader, mature language and themes, underage drinking and drug use, Jason Carver, males fighting, Chrissy gets pushed, smut/lemon(?) (dry humping, fingering, nipple play), Gareth x Chrissy, Steve x male!OC, intrusive thoughts, social anxiety, and anything else I may forget (: (: plz let me know

a/n: for my girl, @wendyfawcett

Dedicating this chapter and the rest of the series to you. thank you so much for the encouragement you’ve unknowingly given me a zillion times 😭 I now think of you when I hear the Smiths 🤍

To all my other mutuals and readers, thank you for your interaction and encouragement 🤍 writing this series has been so special for me and I hope everyone who can relate to our Y/n feels seen and represented!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Robin assured Y/n that she and Steve would be by in the morning to pick her up for school while Chrissy reminded her three times to bring her clothes and makeup with her.

Y/n timed it so she called Eddie’s trailer while Wayne was still home and asked him to let Eddie know that she had another ride to school for the next day.

Now she sat unbothered and comfortably numb, Tom Sawyer by Rush pulsing through the speakers. Her door opened, her father standing in the hallway still clad in his work uniform and chuckling to himself as he observed her resting figure, looking so similar to how she looked in a crib so long ago during naptime.

He stepped inside and hit pause on the Walkman next to her. Her eyes fluttered open as she jumped, swiping off her headphones to rest around her neck as she sat up on her elbows. “Jesus, dad, you scared me.” She breathed.

“Sorry, kid. I would’ve left you alone but, your brothers on the phone and he insists on speaking with you—something about Chrissy’s party tomorrow night.” He shrugged with pursed lips.

Y/n’s eyes widened slightly before returning back to their normal size. She sat up fully, shifting uncomfortably before nodding and rushing out of the room.

Plopping down in the armchair, she made a note to tell Sam off for making her have this conversation in the living room. She sighed and picked up the phone, not even having a chance to say anything before he was talking.

“Ugh, Y/n/n! How’s it going?” He asked, dragging out her name with an edge in his tone.

She sighed again, “I dunno, Sam, why don’t you tell me? And while you’re at it, tell me why you didn’t call me on my phone?” She mumbled into the mouthpiece, her eyes darting this way and that to make sure the old man didn’t try to come out of his room.

Sam scoffed, “So you do know why I’m calling.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “I think I do.”

“Tell me why I had to hear about your Eddie situation from Steve.” He asked bluntly. She could picture him slumped over the phone on the wall of his common room at school, his fingers tangled in his dark hair as he tugged at the roots like he did when he was thinking hard.

“I-I was gonna call you, but I—“

“—Don’t give me that crap about bothering me. I gave you my number, so use it.” He almost spat.

She took a deep breath and nodded though he couldn’t see her, and she heard him sigh over the line.

“If I call you in your room, will you tell me everything? Please?” He asked quietly.

“Okay.” Is all she said before they hung up and she scurried quietly to her room, eyeing her father’s door the whole way. She knew he’d be going to sleep soon and hoped to keep it that way.

In the stillness of her room, she could hear his shower running. She knew she’d be able to smell the bar soap by the time he was finished and always looked forward to the scent wafting through the vents.

As she picked up the phone, it rang in her hands—“aghh! fuckin’ shit”— she cried as it fumbled, the phone unlatching and falling into her lap. She grabbed it by the cord and pulled it up to her face.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Sam mumbled back through a chuckle. “Start from the beginning… and I don’t care if it’s weird, tell me what happened.”

Y/n focused on the way the plastic spiral cord felt under her nails as she dug into it absentmindedly. “Okay…” she sighed, “After Hellfire, we were hanging out, we went to his trailer to smoke, so we did.” She swallowed; the dry patch at the back of her throat scratching at her as she spoke. “We were sitting and talking for about an hour before he looked over at me and told me I was beautiful.” Her voice caught in her throat.

She clapped her hand over her mouth when she hiccuped, hoping Sam didn’t hear it— though he did.

She took a sharp inhale, “I dunno, Sam. I just—it was stupid—I started crying. And not only did I fucking cry, I kissed him. I fucking kissed him. And it—it was really nice—“ her voice tightened. “Cause he kissed me back! And when I thought it was going further he just pulled back and asked me how I was or how high I was? I-I dunno, but-but then he asked me if I wanted to watch a movie and left the room!” She had to take a breath and hoped it wasn’t too loud for Sam to hear. “I just—I freaked out, man! The weed helped me stay quiet but my teeth got all tingly and shit like they used to.” She couldn’t hide the sobs escaping her but she powered through without a crack in her voice. “I talked myself down like we’ve always done, slowed my breath and ran the cold water over my wrists—got through the wave. But then I went out there and we watched the movie like nothing happened.”

“—Can I say something yet?” He asked with audible tension as he exhaled, pinching the bridge between his eyes.

“I have a feeling you will anyway.” She rasped.

“—I’m sorry. About it all. I know how much you like him. And I’m sorry you had to go through another panic attack alone—I should’ve—“

“Don’t even say it—You can’t always rescue me, Sam! I know you want to. And you do a great job. You always have, but I’m gonna deal with this shit for the rest of my life, you know? I’m gonna have to do it alone sometimes.” She spewed.

Sam nodded with tears in his eyes, the black phone held in his hand with white knuckles. Y/n took his silence as a response and continued. “I love you, dude. And I miss how close you used to be but—“ she sighed quietly, “I’m not your responsibility.”

“Is that how you think I see you?” He scoffed, “A responsibility? Some obligation that fell into my lap?” He shook his head in disbelief. Y/n worried she’d angered him until she heard his quiet chuckle.

“Y‘know when mom and dad brought you home I was under the impression I would be receiving a puppy?” He asked suddenly.

Y/n chuckled, “What?”

“Mhm. I guess I put that together myself when mom compared a baby to a puppy.” He chuckled nostalgically. The slight smile fell from his face when he furrowed his brow at the newer memory floating to the surface. “Sh-She, uh, told me she’d need my help. Now that I think about it.”

Y/n froze at the stiffness in his tone, sounding like his mind was wandering far away. “Sam?”

“I never meant to make you feel, like-like—small? I just—“

“No, no, I know, Sam, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—“

“Don’t worry about it.” He said lowly, dissolving all tension and fear in her chest as she lessened her grip on the cord she squeezed so tightly. She heard him sigh and wondered if he had more to say.

“Did, uh,” he let loose another uncomfortable exhale, “Why did you… cry?” He asked, his mind racking the possibilities; knowing she wasn’t completely inexperienced, that kissing wasn’t a foreign concept to her.

She chuckled and sniffed, her nose stopping up like a tightened leaking faucet. “He, uh, he called me beautiful—the ‘prettiest girl he’s ever seen.’” She huffed a breath through her mouth at the recollection, like it was happening for the first time again. “That’s when I leaned over and kissed him. But, uh, he broke it when he noticed I was crying… like a fucking weirdo.” She spat quietly at the end, hugging her knees to her chest.

Sam’s eyes widened at the realization. He’d never called his sister pretty, and he hadn’t ever thought to until now. His chest ached at the thought of her walking through life with no one ever telling her how beautiful the smile they shared was.

“Y/n/n…” is all he could say with a sigh as her sobs rippled from her lips over the line. She angled the mouthpiece away from her as she clapped her hand back over her mouth to muffle herself.

“I’m so sorry.” He said finally. “We should’ve been reminding you this entire time. Th-that was probably a lot to feel all at once, you know? From someone you like so much…” His mind drifted to the first time Derek was brave enough to say how beautiful he found Sam to be; standing in a museum and admiring a replica of Michaelangelo’s statue, David.

Remembering how he thought his knees would give out beneath him and the burn that nipped at his cheeks as he stuttered out his deflections. Derek merely scoffed and stepped closer to his friend, brushing fingers with the object of his affection and sharing a knowing look with him.

His very best friend.

“I felt like I—I don’t know. Never felt that way before.” She mumbled.

“I think you felt… loved, Y/n.” He shrugged, knowing the irreplaceable feeling of someone seeing you and loving you in the way no family or friend ever could. The girl froze atop her bed and shook her head quickly.

“I-I mean I’ve always felt loved by you and dad, always—“

“Not like that.”

“Ugh—“ she grumbled softly, “well that’s stupid, I’ve known him for a freakin’ week and I’m so wound up over this dude to to point of embarrassment and-and—” She concluded. “I feel pathetic, Sam!”

The teary boy chuckled at his sister’s anguish. “That’s exactly how love can make you feel sometimes.”

“Well, then it’s not right. That isn’t love.” She decided with a dejected heart.

“Love makes you feel uncomfortable things, sometimes. Sometimes love makes you shut down. Some people… run away.”

“Drugs made her run away, not love.” Y/n bit.

Sam felt it through the phone, flinching back a little at the reference to his mother. “I didn’t mean her, you know that… I just meant, maybe Eddie has a problem with describing his bigger feelings. Love makes you feel a lot of… different things at once. It’s scary, and you know that. Maybe he’s just as scared as you.” He suggested.

It was like the rubix cube clicked into place after days of twisting and turning, days of one side seeming to be done until you turn it around to discover another jumbled side to need unscrambled.

“Y-You don’t think it was me?” She asked with a whisper.

“Not even for a second.” He mumbled. “Might ‘just be a week’ with him but… I dunno, sometimes people just find each other, Y/n/n. People that go together.”

She chuckled and wiped the cold tears that laid on her cheeks. “Yeah, maybe.”

“So this party…” Sam asked.

“Mhm?”

“Steve said I’m invited.” He said with that familiar mischief in his voice.

“Indeed, you are.” She confirmed stiffly with a small smile tugging at her lips.

“Think it’s time we show Hawkins just how good we are?” He asked smugly.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “At what, Sam?”

“Having a good time!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Her eyes were already itchy. The skirt Chrissy talked her into kept riding up her thighs, the black outfit being far from what she imagined herself in at any party, but she’d promised Chrissy she could live her punk girl dreams through her tonight, and she would do just that.

She wore heavier eyeliner than she was used to, a black silk cami with lace trimming her friend Sara gifted to her the first time they went to a college party. The skirt was red plaid and quite tight, the fabric not giving much room to stretch but fitting nicely. Chrissy left her legs bare and insisted they switch shoes, wanting to stroll around in Y/n’s high top vans while Y/n sported Chrissy’s black converse all stars.

“Let’s walk in each other's shoes!” She’d suggested after they’d been plied with pot and a few shots while they finished getting ready. Y/n shot her a questioning look. “You can have my cheer confidence and I’ll have your laid back pothead vibes!” She giggled before dropping to the floor and searching for her other sneaker. Y/n chuckled and nodded, handing over her vans as she received the converse.

The last touch on Y/n’s outfit was a light, black denim jacket that Chrissy insisted stayed hanging off one shoulder, also exposing her chest and collarbone. “This is what happens to my jackets in general, why would I put it on this way?” Y/n asked, looking for understanding as she fiddled with the cuff of her sleeve and Chrissy placed a black choker around her neck.

“It’s to make you look… undone! Like you don’t care.” Chrissy said simply, fluffing out the long curls she worked into Y/n’s hair, Chrissy letting her own down around her shoulders and fluffing her bangs.

‘But I do care!’ She thought.

As they stood in front of her full length mirror, thankful her parents were out of town as well as Jason’s, the girls took in their handiwork. Chrissy decided against a skirt for herself this time, opting to wear fitted black jeans and a white cropped cami under the denim jacket Y/n leant her. Chrissy’s eyes were glazed and a pink she mostly wore on her nails, but tonight was an exception.

“Y’know, a certain little drummer boy is gonna lose his mind when he sees you.” Y/n mentioned as they gathered their things and headed for the door.

Chrissy blushed as they walked through the hallway. “You think so?” She asked as she tired half her hair up with a pink scrunchie, one that matched her eyes. Y/n nodded with a chuckle at the mental image of the boy with his jaw dropped.

As Chrissy locked the door behind them, Y/n noticed the bright headlights of the car in the driveway and the outlined bodies of Steve and Robin waiting inside. When they opened the back door, they were met by the interior lights flipping on and the meltdown Steve seemed to be having about his hair.

“I dunno what to tell you, Steve, I don’t exactly carry a can of Farrah Fawcett spray up my ass every—“

“I-I-Its just my side part isn’t doing the thing! Y’know the way it flops over so effortlessly—seatbelts, ladies—“ he glanced to the girls in the back through the rear view as he switched gears and backed out of the drive.

“It’s not effortless if you have to have a whole routine to make it look effortless, Steve-o. Besides you look fine, your hair always looks like that.” Robin shrugged before turning to the waiting friends in the back.

“Holy shit, I smell something burning—“ Robin began, sniffing the air in the car and instilling a panic into Steve.

“What?!—“ He skidded at the stop sign.

“—Oh! It’s just these two hot bitches you have in the back seat!” Robin cackled, now obviously either tipsy or a little high.

Chrissy got a big kick out of the joke while Y/n merely chuckled and looked out the window. She spun the regular thin silver rings on her fingers, some from her brother and father, a couple from her grandmother, but one from an unlikely sender.

She hated that it was her favorite. The one that sat on her right ring finger with her mother’s initials engraved on the plate. She spun it around and around, watching the black silhouette of the trees pass them by on the short ride to Jason Carver’s house.

“So, Y/n/n,” Steve asked in the mirror. Y/n nodded and met his eyes. “I heard your brother was thinking of coming out tonight, said he wanted to clear it with you…h-have you heard from him?” Steve’s brown eyes flashed from the road to the mirror, from the road to the mirror, desperation peeking through his facade.

Y/n cracked a smile and nodded, “Yeah, he’s gonna meet us there.” is all she said to make Steve nod and smile in relief.

The moon stayed hidden behind the tree line though Y/n longed to get a peek. She knew she’d have a good view of it later when she got home, no matter how the night ended.

The three other occupants of the car fell into easy conversation about the plans and games for the evening, Y/n only catching bits and pieces that her ears managed to grab through the overwhelming noise in her mind such as ‘bottle’ and ‘closet’.

By the time they pulled up to the house, the party was in full swing, and Y/n thought she noticed Eddie’s van was parked just down the road.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Are you ready?” Robin asked as Steve and Chrissy exited the car. Y/n turned to Robin, now noticing the lights were on again. She shrugged one shoulder and nodded. Robin sighed, and shook her head at her friend's nerves. “Y’know we don’t have to do this.” She asked.

Y/n nodded, “I know. But I want to. ‘S just scary.” She said with a sharp inhale and popped open the car door. The cold air kissed her cheeks, reminding her of the many nights she walked into a house party to come out and sigh in relief at the way the cold air greeted her hot and flushed skin, she looked forward to that feeling tonight.

Steve looked his friends up and down as if taking inventory. His gaze lingered on Y/n, her outfit throwing him for a loop. “You know you’re gonna kill him, right?” He asked as he fished his cigarettes out of his pocket and handed the carton out to Y/n. She took one and threw him a puzzled look as he pushed it closer to her.

“Take them all, I don’t need to get back on them.” He shrugged as Y/n tucked the pack into her pocket. “Last week fucked me—“ he stopped himself with a look at Y/n before his eyes flashed to Robin, “—Over. Fucked me over, you know? Thought it could be a casual thing but, uh. I guess I’m not that kinda guy.” He managed as they began walking to the front door.

Robin wrinkled up her face in confusion, wishing her best friend would tell her the full truth behind his sudden weirdness. She made a mental note to stay sober enough to keep tabs on him as well.

Chrissy linked their arms together with a smile plastered on her face. “We’re in for a wild night, friends. Tonight—everything changes!” She said with a deep breath before ushering her friends ahead of her.

As soon as Y/n crossed the threshold, it was like she entered another timeline, like the whole place was just a liminal space you see in a dream or maybe a movie? Perhaps a memory.

She kept her eyes on the floor until she felt Chrissy’s hand take hers. Their eyes met and the cheerleader gave the shy girl a small nod of encouragement as Robin and Steve walked ahead of her. “C’mon, honey, I won’t leave you. Not until it’s time.” She said in a chipper yet foreboding tone, leading her further into Jason Carver’s home.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Now that Y/n had thought about it, she realized this had been her first party completely without Sam, well until he showed up. There was a deep knot in her stomach, a tension so tight she could hardly stand, so she opted for sitting until she was able to get a joint.

Chrissy occupied the middle seat of the couch, snug with her new bestie to the slight dejection of the rest of the squad who lingered on the other side of the room. Y/n was familiar with the bewildered and poorly hidden glances being thrown her way. Chrissy was engaged in an eager conversation with Robin and a couple other girls from the school band.

Y/n suddenly felt like a sitting duck in a pool of sharks, sitting with the most desirable girl in school in a house packed with people she wouldn’t ever wish a good time upon. The boys were loud and smelly, carrying on the most pointless of conversations and echoing the same goofy laugh that spilled from their leader's mouth.

Jason Carver stood out on the back porch, running the beer pong table surrounded by an easily entertained audience. She was ripped away from her trance when Chrissy elbowed her in the side and stood, holding out her hand. “C’mon I’m gonna find you some weed.” Y/n agreed immediately.

Chrissy pulled Y/n along to the stairs, noticing a few stragglers at the landing sitting and chatting away, a certain aroma lingered and an easiness that settled over the space around them; they were definitely the smoke circle.

But Chrissy didn’t stop there, she kept going up until she reached what seemed to be a game room, dartboards, a small hoop and foam balls, a pool table, and air hockey all around the perimeter of the room with seating in the center in front of a large television. Only the room wasn’t lacking in occupants like Y/n hoped.

There was a group of drama and art kids engaged in easy conversation with the older members of Hellfire, who wore their shirts like a gang. Eddie sat in a bean bag chair in the corner, his lunchbox sat securely in his lap as he smoked a joint in silence. His knee moved up and down rapidly, rattling the metal handle and latches of the box with every bounce.

Y/n’s breath caught at the sight of him, hoping now wasn’t the time Chrissy would abandon her. Instead, Chrissy walked right up to Gareth, who stood with his foot up on the coffee table, red cup in hand as he spoke to Jeff and a guy that was the current lead of the school production.

As if royalty approached, the boys ceased their conversation to address Chrissy and her lady trailing behind. Gareth’s eyes lit up as they raked over her figure. “Chrissy, hey!” He smiled, his eyes unmoving from the blonde’s. Y/n cracked a smile at the lovesick boy and was thankful for the people separating her from Eddie for once.

“I’m so glad you could make it, Gareth! And-and everyone else, too!” She said with a similar dreamy tone. The boy was red as a cherry tomato as he looked down at her, the smile on his face matching hers. She motioned for him to come closer, making his heart leap in his chest and his thoughts questioning if he smelled good enough.

“Y’know I could really use your help getting our friends together… I have some ideas in mind?” She asked as Gareth nodded without hesitation, pledging his undying loyalty with one look. She lowered her voice for discretion and gave him the rundown starting with a joint for Y/n’s nerves.

At the mention of her name, Gareth glanced around the room until his eyes fell on Y/n, standing just behind Chrissy. He took in her altered appearance, the corners of his mouth turning down and his eyes widening in shocked approval.

“And can you be, like, super discreet? We don’t exactly want Y/n catching his eye, just yet.” She asked with her hands clasped in front of her.

Gareth smiled and nodded, “—Course, Chrissy. Anything for… for you guys.” He said, digging in his pocket. Chrissy turned Y/n by the shoulders as she heard Gareth address Eddie, “Hey man, some girl gave me $10 for a pre-roll—“

They descended the staircase, the circle at the landing having expanded by at least double. Their collective laughter roared over the music, sounding so close to a sitcom laugh track. It wasn’t until she saw Robin and Steve that she noticed Sam in the middle of it all, a smart sweater over a collared shirt and light wash jeans donning his long legs. Steve leaned on the bannister with his cup in hand, though it still looked like he hadn’t bothered to take a drink.

Sam’s eyes glanced from Chrissy to Y/n as they stepped around the group of stoners, mumbling their ‘excuse me’s. “Y/n/n!” He hissed in quiet excitement, definitely already blazed.

Y/n’s face burned at the prospect of her brother seeing her fancy little party outfit. “Ugh, my sister, everyone! Say hi, I made friends!” He said, most definitely already high. Y/n chuckled at his antics as the smoke circle gave their giggly hellos.

“Dude, did you drive here?” She asked quietly, taking in his intoxicated state.

Sam shook his head, “Nah, nah, I took me a leisurely walk. The bronco’s at home.”

She nodded and offered a shy wave to the group as Gareth hustled down the stairs, lighting up when he saw Chrissy’s eyes already on his.

Instead of walking through the group at the foot of the stairs, he crouched down at the railing and stuck his hand through the bars, concealing a blunt and lighter with his long fingers and palm. Chrissy skittered over with a pink flush to retrieve it from him. Y/n watched the exchange, practically feeling the butterflies fluttering within them.

Gareth mumbled something that made Chrissy giggle shyly and look down at her feet before she bit her lip and responded coyly, taking another step closer to the railing that was eye level with her. Gareth chuckled quietly and nodded before standing and making his way up the stairs, looking back to find Chrissy watching him the whole way.

When Gareth was out of sight, Chrissy walked back to Y/n, pinching her by the sleeve lightly and tugging. “Let's go somewhere private to spark up this bad boy, huh?” She asked Y/n, her eyes flickering to Steve, Sam, and Robin to confirm they’d heard her suggestion. Y/n nodded and followed Chrissy out of the front door.

The porch was deserted and dark and an empty bench swing looked like a great spot to be. The girls sat down and Chrissy handed over the weed and lighter. Y/n accepted it almost hungrily, having it lit and smoking between her lips in no time at all. She felt the need to bring one leg up to her chest but knew she couldn’t because of her wardrobe choice. A twisted feeling rolled over her.

“You okay?” Chrissy whispered with concern. Y/n nodded through her deepest drag yet, handing it over to Chrissy and instead of answering verbally she took in a sharp, deep, and gasping breath through her mouth. Chrissy crinkled her brows together as Y/n leaned the other way and began a coughing fit.

“Are-Are you sure? Can you breathe?” Chrissy chuckled before taking a small hit and beginning a similar fit to her friend. Y/n chuckled when she could manage and found herself smiling.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be good. What about you, huh? What did, uh, Gareth say that got you all smiley back there?” Y/n asked as she accepted the blunt back. Chrissy rolled her eyes and looked down at her lap.

“He told me he hoped my boyfriend didn’t mind me smoking weed and I said I hoped he did.” She giggled with warm cheeks as Y/n’s eyes widened.

“Chrissy!” Y/n smiled and nudged her friend's arm with her own as they began swinging back and forth. Chrissy shrugged through her small drag.

“Jason is so… nit-picky about everything I decide for myself— I mean he has an opinion on everything about me, and for once I’d like it if a guy just smiled when I say I wanna skip cheer practice or agree with me when I say I’m tired of my moms diets and just want a greasy burger and fries, you know? And the way Gareth smiles at me… Like, when he saw me upstairs… I just. I couldn’t care less anymore what Jason Carver thinks. And I’m ending it—tonight.” She smiled almost smugly.

“Ton-tonight?? At his own house??” Y/n asked incredulously.

Chrissy nodded as she watched her friend take a deep toke, the blunt about halfway gone. “After all the years he’s embarrassed me at parties? Oh yeah. He’s been on my case more than usual lately since I haven’t ‘been myself’,” She chuckled. “But, tonight, I’m not acting the way he wants me to.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah.” She confirmed.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After they were properly buzzed and relaxed from the blunt, the girls headed back inside where they found Sam and the group still engaged in conversation. The house seemed to be even more packed though no one had come through the front while the girls were on the porch. Y/n moved to walk to the kitchen, where she’d start any party, but Chrissy led her friend back up the stairs. Y/n glanced at Sam whose eyes were already on her. He smiled encouragingly and raised his cup to her as if he knew more.

By the time they reached the game room again, everyone was already gathered in an almost circle. Eddie sat unmoved from his spot on the chair in the corner, currently chatting with a couple buying from him, helping them decide between an eighth or a quarter.

Chrissy held Y/n by the wrist and scanned the dim room for Gareth, finding him lingering close to Eddie talking with a couple of other kids. With Chrissy’s heart leaping in her chest, she hastily made her way across the room to tap Gareth on the shoulder. He turned and smiled at her immediately, “Well don’t you look pretty in pink.” He said, looking between her watery blue eyes.

Chrissy giggled in embarrassment, the saccharine exchange having Y/n stifle a snort.

“Oh, gosh, is it really that bad?” Chrissy turned to Y/n, widening her eyes to give her a proper look at the intense shade of magenta her whites were turning.Y/n’s eyes widened as her jaw dropped then snapped closed, nodding her head ‘yes’ as Chrissy groaned.

Gareth couldn’t help but chuckle warmly at her, placing his hand on her shoulder and assuring her, “Hey, it’s okay, it’s your party! Why wouldn’t you let loose, huh? Besides, you really do look pretty in pink… every time… not just when you smoke.” He shrugged nervously. Chrissy stared into his eyes dreamily as she forgot the whole reason she orchestrated this shindig in the first place.

Years of walking on eggshells at every social function because Jason didn’t want her to have a good time had her nervous about simply doing what everyone else was doing. What Jason was doing. Who, by the way, hadn’t bothered to check on his girlfriend once throughout the night.

Chrissy smiled and shook her head at Gareth before mustering a stuttering and breathless thank you. Gareth nodded earnestly, his gaze lingering on hers then tore his gaze away to glance to Y/n who still stood just behind her friend.

Gareth cleared his throat and looked at Chrissy again, turning to Jeff and tapping his shoulder to get his attention. The boy turned with a hard look on his face before he realized it was only his buddy and promptly handed him an empty long necked bottle.

Y/n had an inkling Chrissy’s scheme would involve some sort of risqué party game, though she hadn’t played spin the bottle while downright infatuated with someone.

Let alone with that someone being in the room.

Chrissy took the bottle gratefully and sauntered to the center of the room, leaving Y/n with Gareth. The boy took one large comical step over to Y/n, leaning down to utter in her ear, “Fancy meeting you here.” He elbowed her lightly to get a chuckle out of her.

“Okay, everyone, who’s ready for truth or dare?” Chrissy asked like the proud hostess she was. The room of misfits and grateful guests agreed with excitement, gathering in the circle eagerly. Eddie stood from his seat quickly, searching for Gareth and the others, hoping to round everyone up and get the heck out of dodge, but was puzzled when he found his best friends getting comfortable on the carpet, fully intending to participate.

That was when he noticed who exactly Gareth was seated next to, their legs almost brushing as she sat with her knees to the side and leaned on her hand closest to Gareth. Eddie must’ve looked like a lost kid clutching his lunchbox to his chest when he looked at Chrissy, who still stood in the middle and was asking two of the art girls to save her a seat between them.

Chrissy met Eddie’s eyes with hope then glanced over to a Hellfire boy that sat next to Jeff, “Hey, Ned, can you make room for Eddie?” She asked.

Ned’s eyes widened before he nodded and shuffled to make space. Chrissy looked back at Eddie with a face that said ‘trust me’. She caught the slight pleading tilt to his head and nodded assuringly. A sigh escaped him as he stepped through the middle of the circle to take his place between his friends, trying hard not to stare at the girl he desperately wanted to sit with.

“Okay, friends, here’s how we play,” Chrissy placed the bottle in the middle of the circle and found her seat between Claire and Emily. “When it’s your turn, spin the bottle. Whoever it lands on is who is choosing a truth or dare— and before it’s even suggested, you can’t make anyone do a dare, okay? If you want to skip your turn, you have to take a shot or a hit from the joint! Let’s make sure everyone has a good time , ‘kay?” She asked cheerily.

Everyone looked amongst one another and nodded in agreement. Chrissy spun the bottle first and it landed on a girl from band. “Dylan! Truth or dare?” Chrissy asked with shining eyes.

“Uh, dare?” The girl asked with worry in her eyes.

Chrissy narrowed her eyes in thought and glanced to the boy that was always following her at school, definitely not her boyfriend cause he never touched her, but Chrissy had seen the way Dylan looked at him when he wasn’t paying attention. “I dare you… to sit in his lap till your next turn!.” Chrissy said, gauging their reactions as the heated blush took over their faces and the girl clamored over into the boy's lap, smiling when his arms circled around her waist and held her close. Their friends murmured their aww’s while Chrissy basked in the warmth of the blossoming love she was responsible for.

“Now, Dylan spins!” Chrissy instructed.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After three more turns of a daring neck kiss, one tongue touch, and one truth of Ned’s admittance to his virginity, Chrissy had been asked for the truth about Jessica Chapman and if her tits were actually that big. Instead, Chrissy took a hit off a joint, letting Gareth hold it for her in the center of the circle as everyone watched.

Eddie couldn’t help but watch the way Chrissy looked at Gareth, the way Y/n had looked at him a few times now that he’d thought about it. Gareth muttered something silly to Chrissy as she pulled off the joint, a small smile working its way on her face before she started chuckling which evolved into hacking.

Had this been Jason, he’d have told her to get a grip, maybe even rolled his eyes.

Instead, Gareth chuckled and patted her back, “You want some water?” He offered before she gained her bearings and shook her head no, but thanked him with big round doe eyes before she went back to her seat.

“Okay, my turn!” She smiled, spinning the bottle. Y/n’s heart had thudded in her ears as she watched the exchanges between everyone. She’d seen worse things come of truth or dare, but she couldn’t help but worry the bottle would land on herself or worse, Eddie.

He was easily the best looking guy in the room, and with the sexual tension settling over the group like a blanket, the possibilities were endless. She didn’t think she could bear to see him do any of these things with anyone else.

She couldn’t miss the way a couple of the girls in the room were eying their prospects, how their gazes lingered on Eddie. Y/n could only allow herself to glance in his direction every so often, sometimes catching his eye for a millisecond before he looked away.

Little did she know Eddie was seated not too far away feeling the same way, watching the bottle turn round and round, endlessly. When it slowed, Chrissy stuck her hand out to stop it right on Y/n.

Y/n took a deep breath and looked Chrissy in the eye while mustering up her best confidence to hold her gaze. “Y/n/n… truth or dare?” Chrissy sang.

Y/n swallowed hard and tried to ignore the way Eddie fidgeted with his rings in worry as he held his knees to his chest.

Chrissy wouldn’t do anything to humiliate you

Or would she?? This could be apart of the long game she’s playing, maybe Jason put her up to—

“Dare.” She said, silencing the voice that nagged her constantly with the single word.

Eddie stifled a gasp and masked it as a breath. A few people murmured amongst one another at the prospect, having never heard the girl speak until now, not to mention she showed up with Chrissy Cunningham despite never really being seen with her at school.

Chrissy was pleased with her answer and licked her lips before letting her eyes flicker to Eddie. “I dare you… to take Eddie Munson to the closet,” the room gasped, “for seven minutes in heaven.” The crowd let loose a couple ‘oh my God’s and wolf whistles. Eddie’s face was red, not knowing whether to feel excited or embarrassed.

“What do you say? Do you accept the dare?” Chrissy asked quietly.

Y/n’s heart beat in her throat, the cotton mouth suddenly drying up every drop of saliva she had left.

Instead of answering she stood up, earning herself a few cheers from the other players on the floor. Eddie’s breath caught in his throat at the full sight of her, her legs in that skirt. The Hellfire boys quietly urged their friend to go, the looks on their faces reading ‘Why are you still here?’ ‘Are you that high?’

Y/n followed Chrissy promptly, not wanting to see if Eddie decided to run or worse, take the shot and stay to play. But instead she was relieved when heard the scuff of his shoe catching against the hall rug behind her. Y/n cracked a smile to herself at the thought.

“Okay, friends!” Chrissy opened a door, revealing a nearly empty coat closet and ushered them inside. “I’ll be back in maybe seven minutes, I dunno, could be here longer. We’ll see!” She said with a smile and shut the door on them, taking any source of light with her.

The quiet seemed to close in on them, the only sounds between them being the uneasy breath they tried to keep quiet. Y/n cleared her throat. “Hi.” She offered dryly.

She could hear the smile in his chuckle. “Hi.” He said quietly.

She dared to move her hand from her side forward to gauge their proximity and bumped his own, quickly retreating. “Sorry.” She whispered.

“What did I say about sorry?” He asked in a low and longing whisper.

“What?” She asked, wishing she could look into his eyes.

“Don’t.. apologize for existing, sweetheart.” His assurance warmed her chest and brought tears to her eyes but only for a millisecond before she remembered the last time she felt this way. Then she was angry.

“Make up your mind, Eddie.” She said with quiet harshness. It was enough to make Eddie flinch back.

“I-I, uh, are we doing this here?”

“I dunno, what are we doing here? I’m pretty sure that’s up to you, big boy… those are the rules right?” She said with an edge in her voice that was almost sultry.

He cocked his head, “I’m lost, how high are you?”

She scoffed, “Oh, god, not this game again—Y’know I wish you’d stop underestimating me! I can handle my weed, okay? I’ve smoked regularly long before you came into my life, and I’ll smoke long after you’ve left, so if you’re asking how I’m handling my weed before I make decisions, you’re checking on the wrong person!” She spewed heatedly, her words slightly slurring as her high built, poking her finger into his chest, which was only a couple inches from her nose.

She could feel the heat coming off his chest, amplifying the spicy cologne he always wore under the layers of smoke and musk that came with his day. The thoughts in her head urged her to bury her nose there and wrap him up in a tight hug.

Eddie stood flustered and stuttering at the confrontation, never seeing—or hearing—her like this before. “Wha—I jus—I wasn’t—“

“What happened that night, Eddie?” She asked softly.

Eddie wished he could look her in the eye, recalling just how beautiful they were the day they met.

“D-Do you not remember?” He asked with uncertainty.

She shook her head and scoffed, “Do I—it’s all I can think about! Y’know, Eddie, I thought you liked me. But I know things happen when people are high, and I get it if I came on too strong or-or-or if I freaked you out, but…” the words had come out so quickly she hadn’t had time to realize she was really doing all of this right here right now, and suddenly she couldn’t be more thankful to be without light.

She took a deep breath and continued, “No one’s ever told me they thought I was beautiful. Especially not… not someone I like…”

Eddie’s mouth gaped at the fog clearing in his head. His sweet, sweet girl…

“I didn’t mean to cry… and I’m really sorry if it made things weird—“ she stopped speaking when she felt his hands on her cheeks.

“What have I said about apologizing?” He whispered next to her ear.

“Eddie…” she sighed desperately, feeling the heat of his mouth suddenly so close to her own.

“What the hell is this?!” Sounded through the door. The two jumped apart at the voice of Jason Carver yelling upstairs and Chrissy’s responding.

“My party! Like we agreed on, remember?” She asked with no holds barred, speaking to him like he had spent so long speaking to her. Tonight Jason would know what it was like.

“Chrissy—” Y/n mumbled, fumbling for the door knob with shaking hands. Eddie closed his hand around hers and helped her open it, letting her go before him. Y/n rushed through, keeping her grip on Eddie’s hand as they ran down the hall.

Jason and a couple of the jocks stood at the top of the stairs, looking into the game room where many people were in precarious positions. Chrissy being among them. Jason seemed to sway side to side as he stood, making sense of the scene before him.

“Jason, you said it was my party and that I could invite who I wanted to and play the games I wanted to, if you didn’t mean it, then you shouldn’t have agreed! Or were you just not listening?” Chrissy asked without shame. Y/n’s jaw dropped at her fearlessness.

Jason’s nostrils flared as his eyes darted around the room behind her. Y/n glanced behind Jason and his goons to find Sam, Steve, and Robin just ahead of the group of stoners that had camped at the foot of the staircase, Sam's eyes on hers. He raised his brows as if to ask if she was okay, to which she nodded.

“Chrissy, these people aren’t your friends! They’re-they’re weirdos! We don’t know them! It’s like inviting a stranger into my home!” He tried to deflect.

“That hasn’t ever mattered until now.” She shot back.

Jason skimmed the room for something to pick at, his eyes landing on Y/n and Eddie almost instantly. “Oh, c’mon—where did you two come from?” He asked, disgust lacing his words.

“We were just—“ Y/n went to cover for them when Chrissy interrupted.

“You’ve never cared who gets fucked in your bed, so why does it matter?” She quipped, giving the audience exactly what they wanted.

“All you trailer trash mother—“ Jason took three large steps towards the couple in the hall, charging like a raging bull as Y/n braced herself bravely in front of Eddie. Suddenly Chrissy stepped in front of Jason, yelling something Y/n couldn’t make out before he shoved the blonde out of the way carelessly.

“HEY!” An uncharacteristically rough and loud voice grabbed the room’s attention. Gareth stepped into view and dangerously close to Jason’s face as he uttered, “Don’t fuckin’ touch her.”

“You’re not gonna tell me how to treat my girlfriend, freak.” Jason shoved Gareth away lightly.

Chrissy stepped back in, adrenaline coursing through her as the words she’d been dying to say built in her throat. “Maybe he should since I’m tired of being your girlfriend!”

The words seem to echo through the house as a soft roar of ‘ooh’s rushed below them downstairs. Jason seemed frozen in place while fire blazed in his eyes.

“He may be a freak but at least he’s nice to be around.” She finished. His gaze landed on Gareth and his sudden closeness to Chrissy, or should he say Chrissy’s sudden closeness to Gareth.

Chrissy stepped back, bumping into Gareth’s chest but not bothering to move. Jason’s fury melted into calm, though it was only skin deep— the same anger burned in his eyes.

“Oh, I should’ve known you’d turn out to be a slut.” He scoffed, saving face.

The crowd gasped, Gareth stepped around Chrissy with the same skill of a prize-fighter, but not before Y/n found herself directly in front of Jason, grabbing him by the shoulder and sending a solid fist to his jaw.

Her knuckles popped when they crashed against his face, the burning slap of skin against skin humming through her fist as he fell backward into the arms of his friends, who quickly pushed him back onto his feet and sent him back with force, his punch following.

Y/n gasped and almost flinched away but remembered her friend behind her. Instead she only closed her eyes, bracing herself for the hit that never came.

She felt Chrissy’s hands on her shoulders yanking her back. When Y/n opened her eyes, she found a wall of bodies closing the gap between Jason and herself, recognizing them to be Eddie, Gareth, Steve, and Sam, the boys red faced and yelling over one another down at the drunk and slurring Jason.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Can’t swing on guys your own size, Carver?”

“If you wanna fight, we can fight!”

“Do you hit your mother like that, Jason?”

The rest of the basketball team rushed to defend his honor.

“He’s just drunk, he would never!”

“If that little bitch would’ve kept her hands to herself—“

“His parents won’t be happy to hear he’s been assaulted in his own home!”

“You freaks are animals!”

Y/n felt cemented to the spot as her heart pounded in her chest, wondering if the scene before her would turn into an all out brawl. The party goers around them made their way to the exit, shoving the occupants of the stairs out the door as the boys grew louder.

“Sounds like pussy shit to me, Carver, gotta have all your little friends speak for you?” Eddie spat, the veins in his thick neck protruding more and more the louder he got.

Gareth zeroed in on the guy in front of him as he exuded strong silence, looking down his nose at the bleach blond Jason Carver wannabe as he yelled up at his face. Despite being up against the basketball team, the boys from Hellfire seemed bigger, granted a couple of them were held back.

Sam stood next to Eddie with steam pouring out of his ears, his nostrils flared as he stood with his drink still in hand, “Say the word, man, we can take this outside real fast, but you’re not gonna touch my sister—“

“I’ll throw your scrawny ass over the fucking railing, Jason, it’s not a fucking joke anymore.” Eddie muttered almost nose to nose with Jason Carver, the pink faced boy growing heated and overwhelmed with the noise and chaos around him.

Eddie noticed this immediately and wanted nothing more than to set the fucker off. He nudged Jason’s nose with his own, a brave grin growing across his face as he said “C’mon, Jason, I know you’ve been dying to kiss me, c’mon lay it on me, big boy.”

Jason’s eyes grew wide as he flinched away from Eddie’s face, rearing his fist back to hit him, but not before Sam could toss his drink in Jason’s face and effectively blind him.

“Dude, what the fuck!” Jason cried.

The scrappy boys hopped on their opportunity, throwing hands before the jocks could have an advantage. Shirts were grabbed and hands were thrown, some of the jocks were trying to gang up on Gareth, some others on Sam, but Eddie and Jason had each other.

Steve didn’t hesitate to jump to Sam’s aide, the basketball team stepping back the moment they realized the notorious King Steve was now involved.

Gareth took a hit to the side of the face, taking no time to recover before he swung his fist back at a guy named Mark.

“You hit like my mom!” Gareth spit at the boy in front of him.

Grant, Jeff, and Ned worked their way in front of Y/n, pushing her and Chrissy back against the wall and obscuring their view to the situation in the middle of the room.

Eddie and Jason threw jab after jab, some body shots mixed in with some blows to the head, knuckles beginning to bust as they did.

“Y’know it’s real pathetic of you to take advantage of a nice little girl like her.” Jason muttered as they pushed against each other, the crowd of fleeing party goers pushing them together.

Eddie scoffed, “You don’t know anything about her.”

“I know enough. I know that she could definitely do better than you. Unless she turns into a crack whore like your moth—“ Jason didn’t have the chance to finish his words as Eddie held the boy by the shoulders and reared his head back, throwing it forward and sending his forehead straight into Jason Carver’s nose.

Twice.

The boy dropped with a scream.

Soon, everyone was rushing out of the house, Sam quickly finding Y/n and pulling her out with him as her eyes lingered behind, watching as Eddie pulled Gareth to his feet and helped him steady himself. The letterman’s screamed at them to get out and never come back as they clamored for the stairs, now filled with bodies trying to move both up and down.

Y/n was midway down the staircase managing to stay close to her brother and friends, finding Chrissy right behind her as they stepped off the stairs and out the front door.

“Chrissy! Are you okay??” Y/n asked urgently, looking her friend over for any signs of harm on the front lawn of Jason’s house. Chrissy’s smile was plastered on her face.

“I’m fine! Really, I’m great! I just—Has Gareth come out yet? What about Eddie? Are they okay?” She craned her neck towards the house and looked around the yard. Sam and Robin ran back up to the girls, breathless.

“Hey! Why aren’t we in the car, let’s get out of here before the cops come!” Sam urged.

“Did you see Gareth and Eddie come out?” Y/n asked the two as Chrissy’s eyes stayed glued to the door. Sam and Robin shared a grave look and shook their heads. Y/n’s stomach twisted at the prospect of them all being alone in Jason’s house with a room full of jocks.

Suddenly a loud thud sounded from the foyer of the house, familiar chaos coming from the loud mouths of the boys in leather, yelling obscenities over their shoulders as they struggled out of the house with their wounded friends.

“Fuck you Carver!”

“What a way to treat your guests, man—“

“See you Monday!”

Before the girls could gain their attention the boys had leapt over the hedges, Gareth tripping and pulling Eddie down with him—“fuckin’ shit, man, go, go, go!”

They fell hard but got up as fast as they went down, hobbling to the van parked under the shady limbs of a Bradford pear tree and piling everyone in the back. Y/n and Chrissy chuckled at their intoxicated gumption and hustled for Steve’s idling BMW.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The car ride was fast and full of adrenaline, the windows were rolled down to relieve everyone of the hot stress that trickled down their faces as they loudly recounted the events of the night.

“Holy fucking shit! Y/n, I can’t believe you were actually about to take that hit from Jason.” Robin exclaimed from the front seat.

“—You should’ve seen seen it from where I was standing, it looked like she did for a second!” Sam cried from the backseat, sitting to the left of Y/n, Chrissy sitting on her right.

Y/n shook her head bashfully, noting the warmth behind her eyes and how heavy they felt in her head from the weed and intensity of the evening.

Chrissy looked to Y/n, “I can’t wait any longer, tell me what happened in the closet!!!”

“The what?!” The rest of the car shouted.

“We talked! I think we may have been misreading the whole thing on both ends, but before we could really get anywhere—“

“EW!” Sam wretched with his tongue out.

“—Not like that!” She half lied, “Before we could get anywhere, Jason had to be Jason and cause a scene.” She shrugged. “But that’s okay! The hard part’s over. I feel… I feel so much better.” She noticed, now peaceful enough to feel the high covering her like a hug.

“I’m proud of you, kiddo.” Sam said, his gaze more earnest than his voice.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Steve dropped Robin and Chrissy off at home first, then Y/n. Sam didn’t get out of the car, Y/n only noticing when she made it five steps towards the house without hearing another car door open and close. She turned on her heel and looked at Sam and Steve with a furrowed brow.

“Ew.” Is all she said.

Sam’s jaw dropped open in fake offense, pressing a hand to his chest as Steve blushed and chuckled. “Excuse me, missy, I just thought I’d give you some privacy.”

Y/n’s brow knitted together further as she shook her head in confusion. Sam nodded further down the road, Y/n following his gaze to the familiar van parked a little down the curb. Her heart leapt before she met Sam’s eye again.

“Ew.” He mocked as she stepped toward his door with a blush. She leaned down to his open window and smirked.

“love you.”

He chuckled, his eyes turning soft. “love you too.”

She nodded and patted the windowsill. She looked at Steve with the best straight face she could muster, “Don’t get pregnant.” She said, breaking into a smile as Sam burst out laughing and Steve responded, “You, either.”

Sam screamed at Steve’s wit and cackled louder before they pulled away from the curb. Y/n ran to Eddie’s van, tapping at the window before noticing no one was inside. She cocked her head and turned to look at her house, almost immediately spotting him by the chimney, a faint trail of smoke curling upwards towards the moon.

She bit her lip and ran inside the house, thankful for her father’s night shift. Her heart hammered in her chest as she made her way down the hall, her high from the night wearing off now. She opened her door and didn’t care to change into pants, the adrenaline kicking up in her veins warming her along with the building ache in her core.

She wrenched the window open, catching a whiff of the joint that was burning. She sighed and turned to her stereo. Her eyes flickered over the titles, her trusty Smiths case laying open, the tape still in the deck.

She cued up the song she desired and hit play, leaving the room before it even started.

“Oh, mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head…”

She climbed the tree, sighing in content when the song sounded loud enough to be heard loud and clear outside. Eddie sat cooly, his back up against the chimney and a leg stretched out in front of him, the other drawn up close to him to rest his elbow on, a joint burning in his hand. His eyes were sparkling and set on her as she crawled across the branch.

He stood, taking large steps to her to help her steady herself as she gained her footing, grabbing her hands in his. “Thanks.” She mumbled as they stepped over to their spot.

He sat first, as if this were his special place and gestured for her to sit with him. She situated herself as Morrisey’s voice kept them company.

“I know it’s over still I cling, I don’t know where else I can go…”

“What are you doing here?” She asked quietly as he handed her the joint. Eddie chuckled as she took a drag.

“This… amazing girl ran out on me during seven minutes in heaven…” he shook his head with a tsk. Y/n’s face heated as she choked out a cough.

“‘S that so?” She asked.

Eddie nodded, accepting the joint back and taking a hit. “Yep, and it was going real well too,” he exhaled a long cloud of smoke as the breeze carried it far away. “—or at least I thought. She had a friend to save, turns out I did too. But, uh, pretty unfair if you ask me.” He grimaced, keeping his focus on the burning end of the stick.

Y/n chuckled and nodded in agreement, “Yeah, I, uh, feel sorry for her.”

Eddie flinched back in confusion, “Huh?”

Y/n grabbed his wrist and brought the joint to her lips, inhaling deeply as he watched in awe, his goddess returning. He followed the outline of her nose, hoping he could press a tender kiss there some morning soon before school.

His eyes flickered over her cheeks, wanting to reach out and cradle the softness of them, knowing she’d lean into his touch just like he wanted her to.

“Loud, loutish lover, treat her kindly…”

She exhaled and opened her eyes, moving his hand to the side but not releasing his wrist. “She didn’t get to kiss you.” She whispered, the confidence deep within her shining through like the stars around her.

“And I know it’s over still I cling, I don’t know where else to go, over and over and over and over…”

Eddie scooted closer and stamped out the joint, half gone. She met his eye and couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips when she noticed the way he looked at her.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said without shame. His face was lit by the waning moon, his hair so dark it almost blended against the night sky around him. Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, she looked down at his hand covering hers, his thumb stroking her hand lovingly.

“Look at me, sweetheart.” He whispered.

Her teary eyes met his. He shook his head to himself and continued, “I’m so sorry… for being a coward. I assumed the worst and should’ve just talked to you… I was so scared that if I brought it up… you’d be embarrassed or think I only brought you to my trailer to get you high and take advantage of you—“

“What if…” She got the courage to say, “I went to your house because I wanted you to take advantage of me?” She suggested daringly.

Eddie blanched and swallowed his pride hard, “Y-You did?”

Y/n chuckled coyly, averting her eyes down between them, her shy smile playing at her lips before she nodded. Eddie sat stunned at the thought of the pure sweet angel in front of him having dirty ulterior motives.

She chuckled at his reaction and listened to her intrusive, impulsive thought that urged her to swing a leg over his lap to keep him right where she wanted him this time. Eddie gasped as she clutched the lapels of his vest, his hands flying to her hips and ass.

“Nerves of steel, huh?” He asked, releasing a tense and shaking breath.

Y/n only giggled and leaned in, taking his lips in a soft kiss, savoring the thickness of his bottom lip between hers as she mouthed at it. He moaned against her, further encouraging her to keep going.

“While they're in each other's arms...

It's so easy to laugh

It's so easy to hate

It takes strength to be gentle and kind”

He grabbed at her body, pulling her impossibly closer as her kisses grew with urgency. The clicks and smacks of their affection egged them on, their skin growing hot with every passing second they spent touching each other.

“You’re everything to me, Y/n—everything.” He mumbled against her, his fingers now in her hair as he held her face to plant heated kisses all over.

Y/n practically swooned at the admission, gripping onto his arms tighter and grinding her throbbing core down onto Eddie’s. He groaned at the sensation, his hips following hers and creating a delicious friction he’d never felt at the hands of someone else.

“You’re all I think about anymore, Eddie— I want you so bad.” She whispered before diving down to his neck. Another surge of warmth rushed to her center when she nosed at his skin and inhaled more of his scent.

Eddies eyes rolled back and he felt his dick throb.

His inner voice was screaming in victory as ‘I want you so bad’ echoed through his head.

‘She’s in your lap!’

‘She’s going to town on your neck’

‘She wants you! Make your move!’

“D’ya—mmm—you wanna go get warm under the covers?” He asked daringly. “You still owe me five more minutes in heaven, angel.” He caressed her thighs, making her arch her back involuntarily at the affection. Y/n bit her lip and nodded with a blush smattering her cheeks.

The couple kissed three times more before climbing down, smiles unmoving from their swollen and red lips.

Y/n was through her window first, shrugging off her jacket as Eddie maneuvered his long legs through, scooting across the end of her bed with a mischievous smile. He stood to his full height, towering over her as she stood in the most revealing outfit she’d worn, not to mention in front of him.

He traced the choker around her neck with his index finger, trailing down her sternum and to the lace trim of her camisole. He followed the incline up to the silky strap and hooked it with his finger, pushing it off her shoulder gently.

“When I saw you like this at the party…” he started, “I knew I couldn’t watch anyone do those dares with you…” he pushed the hair away from her neck.

“and that I absolutely love this skirt on you.”

She gasped as she felt his fingers at her waist, tracing the fabric teasingly. “Who’s got nerve now?” He asked in her ear with a smirk as she fanned a breath across his neck.

Instead of waiting for him, she pushed up on her toes to lay warm kisses where her breath had hit him seconds before. Her hand wound around the other side of his neck, lacing loosely in his hair as the other rested on his shoulder.

His grip on her tightened as he groaned. “C’mere, baby.” He muttered, pulling her to sit down on his lap at the end of her bed. With a vibrating core, she climbed on top of him, meeting his lips again with a sigh, the anxious tension melting from her body as they sank into the bed.

Eddie found himself leaning back against the familiar plush of her mattress. Her hands cradled his jaw like he was breakable, her kisses warming him from the inside out. He kissed back with vigor, like he was hungry and she was the only thing he craved.

Which, this wasn't far from the truth.

Y/n’s hair began to fall forward around them, her tresses making their way between them and causing her to pull back breathlessly, sitting atop his lap as he laid flat, staring up at her in wonder.

“Shit, sorry.” She sighed, looking around her room for a hair tie and swiveling in his lap as she did. He suppressed a moan as she turned to get off the bed, the pressure and friction everything he needed before she left him.

She walked over to her nightstand and swiped one from there. She avoided his gaze as she tied her hair back. Eddie scooted back to the head of the bed against her pillows, not knowing how far this was about to go.

He swallowed hard as he sat up against the wall, staring down at his socked feet and then back up as her figure moved to the stereo. The Smiths had ended and ejected, the silence amplifying the smallest of sounds. The bed creaked as he shifted his weight, Y/n picked at her nails while she stared up at the shelf in thought.

‘You’re taking too long, he’s gonna tease you’

‘He may just change his mind’

‘Do you really need music that bad??’

“You okay?” He asked from the bed.

Y/n nodded her head and chuckled nervously. “Y-Yeah, I just—I dunno what to put on. Can’t decide the vibe.” She shrugged.

Eddie grinned at the back of her and nodded. “The vibe, huh? How about…” He asked crossing the room to stand behind her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her into his front. “a shared favorite?” He spotted the familiar black and white cassette and popped it in before she could question him.

He pressed the track button until the beginning chords of Rhiannon played. Y/n turned to him with her heart in her throat. Eddie’s dark eyes were warm with affection as he looked at her in that moment. His smile was gentle and hopeful.

She smiled and nodded to the bass before she started leading him backwards to her bed by his hands, the build up not so urgent anymore.

They had arrived.

Eddie pulled her close and situated his hand on her waist and held her hand in his other hand, swaying her to the melody rather smoothly as Stevie began to sing despite never dancing together before.

They giggled through a little spin and pulled each other close to rest their foreheads against one another, wrapping up in a warm embrace. The passion rose, their mouths so close together in that vulnerable moment.

“We have all the time in the world.” He whispered, to which she nodded, her heart slowing with the decrease in speed.

Neither of them had ever found so much solace in another person, home feeling like a place they could only find when they were together.

“Would you stay if she promised you heaven? Will you ever win? Will you ever win?

She is like a cat in the dark, then she is the darkness..

She rules her life like a fine skylark, and when the sky is starless…”

Y/n melted into his touch, their lips finally meeting again like lost lovers. They kissed more comfortably now, holding each other intimately by the cheeks before getting situated on the bed.

“Taken by… taken by the sky…”

They held each other close, taking their time— in no rush to get rid of the layers separating them disregarding the daring lines uttered earlier.

This didn’t stop them from touching and squeezing the forbidden parts of each other.

“You're a dream, sweetheart.” He whispered into her hair as she kissed and sucked and licked his neck lazily, her head laying on his shoulder. She sighed, her eyes prickling with hot tears at the sentiment.

He noticed this and took no hesitation in continuing, “I’ve imagined finding a girl like you my entire life and still didn’t picture her to be as perfect as you.”

She gasped softly and pulled away from his neck but kept her forehead down against him. Her mind wiped of all thought, just noticing how loud her heart beat in her ears.

“Look at me, Y/n.” The use of her name made her stomach drop, his curled finger tilting her chin up to look at him, her chin grazing his.

He noticed her watery eyes and smiled bittersweetly. “I wanna help you be so happy you don’t have to cry when you are.” He nodded. She smiled and let the tears flow freely, leaning forward and kissing his lips with fervor.

He caressed her sides lovingly and welcomed the subtle nudges of her hips rolling against his. She broke the kiss with a soft hiccup as the tears became more intense. She shook her head and groaned at herself, “I’m so sorry, ugh.” She wiped her cheeks defeatedly.

Eddie moved her hands and wiped her face, “What have I said about apologizing?” He whispered, pulling her into a tight hug when he was done. She sighed and held him tightly, emotion swelling within her.

“You, ugh, you feel like home, Eddie.” She nosed into his hair, laying against him comfortably, her crotch resting against his raging boner. Eddie sighed and nodded in agreement.

“You—I know exactly what you mean. You’re my girl, you know? I just wanna be—everywhere you are…” he said through his ragged breath as they began moving against each other.

“Oh my god, Eddie, I—I’m yours. Since I first saw you. You’re it for me.” She confessed.

Eddie held her by her cheeks and made her look into his teary eyes as he nodded in agreement. “I think you're my soulmate.” He whispered in disbelief, despite never believing in the concept until now.

She was his person.

His other half.

He pushed her hair out of her face as it crumpled in overwhelm. She nodded and recovered with a deep breath. “And you’re all mine?” She smiled.

“All yours.” He rubbed her nose with his before they dove back into devouring each other. They had yet to take off their clothes, but Eddie was already on the verge of cumming in his pants, whimpers and moans flying from him as his cock began to twitch.

“I want you to, Eddie—“ She whispered against his lips, placing his hands on her thighs and encouraging them to slide up the hem of her skirt.

“‘M so close, baby—I can’t—“

“No, no, no, cum for me! Please, please, plea—

“Ah! Ah, fuck! Shit, keep going—“ he cried as he bounced her on his lap, his load spurting into his underwear as he felt her grind against him.

“You’re so good—mmm—so good…“ he hummed against her lips.

She nodded against him earnestly, “‘wanna be good for you…”

He rolled his eyes and leaned her backwards, her legs wrapping around his waist and making him smirk. “You just made me cum in my pants like a freshman…you’re so fucking good.” he muttered into her hair as she dangled from him, her giggles spurring him on.

“Good, that was my intention.” She giggled as he pressed wet kisses to her neck.

“Oh, honey, we’ve only just begun.” He pulled back to look at her in the eye before reaching behind her to unzip her skirt.

She felt energy run through her as the fabric loosened, her core tightening at the sensation. “This okay, sweet girl?” He asked hesitantly.

Y/n nodded, “Touch me, please…”

“I wanna make you feel good.” He whispered pleadingly.

“Then take me…” She said in a low whisper in his ear, intoxicated by him and the idea of him being inside of her.

“I can’t fuck you, not yet… I wanna do it all right with you, baby, take you out for a while, treat you like mine until everyone knows it—I just can’t keep my hands to myself anymore…” he reasoned with himself more than her. She nodded mindlessly underneath him, rubbing her thighs together as he spoke.

“Can I have your fingers?” She asked almost casually.

Eddies eyes widened just hearing something so filthy come out of her mouth. “I’ll give you anything you ask for—“ he stuck his first two fingers in his mouth to cover them in his spit, only for her to pull them out and slot her mouth over them.

“Jesus H Christ…” Eddie sighed as he felt her warm and sweet little mouth cover his digits and slide her tongue between his two fingers. As she slowly dragged her mouth back up the length, her lips puckered, making him keen as he looked down at her.

She looked up at him and smiled around his fingers as she pulled off. “You’re a little vixen when you’re feeling ballsy—I love that..” He whispered while he reached down to her clothed pussy.

He pulled her panties to the side and glided his fingers through her folds, her breathless whimpers spurring him on further.

“I got you, baby, right here? ‘S that it?” He asked when his thumb found her clit, fiddling with the hard bundle of nerves and covering it in her slick.

Y/n let loose a wanton mewl before she nodded and cried out, “Ah, fuck, yeah, right there!” And Eddie slid inside.

Had anyone been home, they’d assume the worst was going on behind the closed door. She bucked wildly against his hand, chasing the rising pressure building in her stomach as Eddie whispered the hottest things in her ear.

“You make the prettiest noises when you’re desperate to cum—‘s that too mean?” He asked quietly after thinking a beat too long.

Y/n shook her head, “—it’s perfect, Eddie, you’re perfect—ugh— please, please, make me cum.” She panted, the foreign, filling pressure rose and built up in her core, the place his fingers reached inside of her soothed the ache and melted it into hot and tingly pleasure.

Eddie resumed kissing her lips, his mouth slick with their saliva just like hers were. “Let me have it, baby—wanna see how pretty girls cum—“ he muttered as he pulled back to watch her, his hips thrusting along with his wrist.

Y/n’s mouth hung open as her orgasm washed over her, a choked groan escaped her as her body lurched uncontrollably. Eddie smirked in satisfaction and continued his movements, diving down to her neck to work her through the high.

Y/n’s head was spinning and reeling at the full body sensation pulsating through her as he buried his nose in her neck and kissed. The silk top against her hard and sensitive nipples accentuated the way Eddie’s thumb ran over it with a hard pinch, striking a chord on the live wire he wound so tightly in her body. “You’re mine, yeah? And I’ll take care of you… however you need it…whenever you need it.”

She opened her blurry eyes and saw him looking deeply into her, in awe after the worship of his goddess was over, and she was appeased and satiated. She blinked, her final tears falling down her cheeks and taking her makeup with it. He smiled and wiped her face before leaning down and taking her in another deep kiss that said more than words could.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The lovers stayed up the rest of the night, treating it like any other they’d share; smoking, talking, laughing, taking turns putting on music, and now kissing. They weren’t too scared to get close to each other now, quickly getting comfortable under the comforter and entangling their legs.

They kept their lips lingering close to one another, unafraid to close the distance between them whenever they felt so moved. They sang quietly, tracing the details of each other's faces and bodies.

As they were right on the brink of sleep, the sun began to creep up over the horizon. Y/n nudged Eddie’s chin with her nose, his eyes fluttering open instantly and smiling when he saw her looking at him. She pressed a kiss to his lips, smiling into it when she felt his hand come up to cradle her jaw.

“Do you wanna watch the sun come up with me?” She asked quietly. Eddie seemed to perk up at the idea and nodded.

They crept out of the window, just like they always did, taking their blanket with them to climb up the tree and onto the roof. The morning air was cold, and there was a ghostly fog hovering over the street. The streetlights were still on, glowing in the early light.

From their spot, they saw the top of the orange orb rise up from behind the horizon, the deep blue hues of the night sky warming to purple and pink. Clouds cracked open to let through the sun's first rays that skimmed the dewy ground.

Y/n sat against Eddie’s chest, her head nuzzled into the perfect spot of his neck, warm and cozy in the blanket he held around them. Her hand rested on the outside of his thigh, rubbing slow circles into the denim.

Eddie kissed her head when the sky took to orange, the shade of tangerine being one that reminded him of her. He looked down at her, smiling when he saw she was so close to him, in his arms right where she belonged. He held her closer, his squeezing embrace making her giggle as he buried his nose in her hair.

“What are you doing?” She asked in amusement.

“I’m memorizing this moment. Never want to forget it.” He mumbled, breathing in her scent. They turned their heads to get a better view of each other. “Your eyes in the sunlight is one of my favorite things.” He mentioned.

Y/n blushed at the compliment and averted her gaze. “Yeah, well, I think you’re still a little caked.”

“Or maybe, just maybe, I’m openly admiring my girlfriend… saying all the thoughts I’ve been dying to say out loud now… and one of them is how beautiful your eyes are when the sky looks like this.” He whispered, staring intently into her irises to memorize the pattern and texture and every fleck inside.

“But I’ll just have to get you used to that, huh?” He asks himself more than her. Y/n shook her head, turning her attention back to the sky ahead of them.

“We’ll see if you can handle me long enough, Munson.” She said jokingly before he turned her head to face him. He pressed his lips to hers with urgency, chasing her kiss down hungrily.

He released her and pulled back, “You’re it for me, sweetheart. Just wait, you’ll see.”

Taglist baddies 🤍 (if it didn’t allow me to tag you, I removed you! Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed 😌)

@thincrusttheworks @navs-bhat @afternoonzephyr @vea-vea-vea @munsonsmel0dy @sana-li @drdvlss @certifiedtrashmouth @okaymunson @astrolockley @loving-and-dreaming @newshade

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson series #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x afab reader #eddie munson x shy!reader #eddie munson au #stranger things au

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angelasscribbles · 8 months

Text

Dark Elf Chapter 6: Blood Bound

Series: Dark Elf

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Liam (this chapter)

Word Count: 2,692

Rating: NSFW 🍋🍋🍋

Warnings for this series: Lemons

A/N: My first submission for @choicesprompts Smutember Prompt Event. Prompt: Teeth and Claws.

A/N: I hope no one gets confused between this one and the other dark AU I have going right now, The Dark Kingdom. This one, Dark Elf is the one where Riley is a demon here to sacrifice Hana so Liam can achieve immortality.

Shout out to @aussiegurl1234 for pre-reading and giving me suggestions to amp the physicality of this interaction.

My other stuff: Master List.

Drake pushed away from the wall when the dinner guests stood to leave. He was at Riley’s side before she had moved away from the table.

She tipped her head back and gave him that smile again. The one that sent unfamiliar but not unwelcomed sensations crashing through his body and clouding his mind. “Well, hello again.” She simpered.

“Are you ready to return to your room?”

She walked her fingers up his arm, “Actually I was thinking about a walk in the gardens.”

His body didn’t move but his pupils dilated, “I’ll take you.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Liam was suddenly there, pushing his way between them, “That won’t be necessary.”

“But..” confusion pulled Drake’s brows together, “You told me to keep an eye on her!”

“Yes, when I’m not around. But I’m here now,” his voice held an edge as he pulled her away from her guard, “I’ll escort her to the gardens.”

“Oooooh!” Riley clapped her hands in excitement, “Are you two about to fight over me?”

“Of course not!” Liam snapped in annoyance as he made a show of straightening his tie, “There are simply things we need to discuss.”

“Too bad,” Riley said with a pout, “I love a good fight!”

“Yes, well…” Liam’s eyes flicked to Drake then back to Riley. Elves were strong, but he had no desire to engage in a physical altercation with a shifter. Especially a tiger.

“Maybe later?” She purred as she leaned into him.

“He wouldn’t fight me if I tried,” Liam smirked at her, “he’s loyal to a fault.”

Riley’s gaze slid to Drake in contemplation, “You okay with him treating you like a lap dog?”

They both spoke at once, “He doesn’t!”

“That is a completely unfair characterization!”

“Okay…” She looped her arm through Liam’s, “The gardens?”

Drake moved to follow them.

Liam looked back, “What are you doing?”

“My job is to keep you safe, and now her too.”

Liam considered that for a moment, “Fine. Come. But keep back a distance.”

As they exited the dining room, Riley looked back at Drake, “Woof, woof.”

He stiffened momentarily but betrayed no other emotion as he followed them out the door…at a respectful distance.

Riley found herself relaxing as they strolled through the garden paths. Leaning her head back to gaze at the stars, she sighed, “It’s beautiful here.”

Liam looked at her quizzically, “Cordonia?”

Her features were soft for once as she answered him, “The mortal realm.”

Butterflies exploded in his chest as he drank in her expression, unguarded, genuine, beautiful. If he wasn’t careful, he could forget everything he knew about demons, toss caution to the wind and lose himself in the pursuit of this woman.

Why didn’t she want him? By all accounts he was desirable. Handsome, charming, wealthy, humorous, good in bed…. Not that she would know that. He needed her to open up to him. Perhaps a personal question would do the trick, “Have you ever been here before? Or have you always lived in…” he trailed off as he searched for the right word.

“Hell? The underworld? The nether regions? The abyss? Hades? Tophet? The pit? The inferno? Perdition?”

“Yes, Naraka.”

“Naraka? Impressive, halfling. Someone has taught you well.”

“Knowledge is its own kind of power. So?”

“I’ve been to the mortal realms before.” She offered no further explanation.

They were interrupted by a woman’s voice, “Riley, is that you?”

Hana and Rashad appeared as two paths intersected each other. Rashad bowed slightly in Liam’s direction, “Pa’ti.”

“A’carya,” Liam bowed back.

Rashad inclined his head toward Drake in greeting, “D’hala.”

“A’carya,” Drake answered back.

Riley was trying to pay attention to the relationships revealed through the use of official Elven titles, Pa’ti was master or leader, A’carya was the official title for teacher and D’hala loosely translated to shield, guard, or protector.

She was distracted when Hana pulled her into a tight hug. The woman smelled like ambrosia and Riley felt the heat that always boiled inside her, cool, and the churning waters calm as little bits of heaven floated from the other woman’s very being and settled comfortingly around Riley.

This was dangerous.

She was here to sacrifice this woman. It was part of the terms of the blood oath she had sworn when she entered into the agreement with the elf. Why did her touch invoke feelings of bliss, happiness, comfort, and belonging? “What are you?” She whispered.

“What?” Hana drew away with a tinkling laugh, “Riley, you’re so funny!”

Riley inhaled again, as her eyes traveled along Hana’s form, trying to discern if she was something more than human.

Seemingly oblivious to the scrutiny, Hana touched her arm as she asked, “Have lunch with me tomorrow?”

“Certainly,” Riley agreed in bemusement.

They parted ways with the other couple and continued their walk. Riley toyed with the serpent-shaped cuff on her right arm thoughtfully. She wasn’t at full power; she had been robbed of most of her demonic senses. She was sure if the cuff were removed she would be able to figure out what Hana was.

As if reading her mind, Liam slipped an arm around her waist, tugging her closer to his side, as he whispered against her ear, “It’s almost over. The full moon is in three days' time. Once the ceremony is performed, you’ll be free again.”

She stopped walking and turned in his arms. Running a hand down the side of the face, she asked, “Whatever shall I do to stay occupied in the meantime?”

Warmth flowed off her fingertips and sent electricity dancing along his skin. His other arm slid around her as he pulled her tighter against him. What could it hurt? The cuff and the oath guaranteed she couldn’t hurt him even if she wanted to. It wasn’t wise to trust a demon, but this one was properly restrained. And she did things to his body that had never been done before. Strong magic flowed between them every time they touched as if their respective powers were living things, drawn to each other and it was getting harder to ignore. Surely, she felt it too. He leaned his forehead against hers, “I have ideas.”

“What ideas would those be, my darkling prince?” She pressed her body into his as her fingers glided through his hair.

“Come back to my room with me and I’ll show you…please…”

It was the please that did it. She had grown accustomed to his heavy-handedness, to his propensity to bark orders, to his infuriating belief that he was in charge. She acquiesced with a warning, “I do bite just so you know.”

A low moan escaped him, “I’m counting on it.”

He released her from his embrace and took her hand, turning to lead them back to the palace. Drake watched them approach, his eyes fixed on Riley.

As they drew alongside Drake, Liam stopped and told him, “You’re no longer needed tonight. Go back to your quarters, and get some sleep. Resume guard duty outside her room first thing in the morning.”

Drake pulled his eyes reluctantly from Riley. With a slight bow to Liam, he replied, “Yes, Pa’ti, tomorrow.” Then he spun on his heel and was gone.

There was no pretense as they entered his room. He slammed the door shut with one hand while grabbing her arm with the other. Before she could react, he spun them both and slammed her body into the wall, one hand tugging at her hair as his lips claimed hers.

Riley responded by sinking her teeth into his bottom lip and yanking his hair as hard as she could before bringing her knee up and wedging her leg between them. She gave a powerful kick that sent him stumbling away from her.

He grabbed at his lip and looked back at her in confusion, “I thought you wanted this.”

“I do,” she laughed as she swayed seductively toward him, “I thought you said you liked it rough.”

“Mmm,” he nodded as he licked the blood from his lip, “That’s how it’s going to be. All right then, let’s play.”

She reached for him, but he lowered his head and rushed her, knocking her off her feet and slinging her over his shoulder. He crossed the room and threw her onto the bed.

She bounded quickly to her feet, and delivered a stinging slap across his face before grabbing both cheeks in her fingers and pinching, hard, “You think you can tame a demon, halfling?”

“I think I already have,” he hissed as he ripped the dress from her body and let his eyes devour her nakedness, “And I think you like it.”

She leaned forward and ripped his shirt open, shoving it down his shoulders as her tongue drew a line from the hollow of his throat up his neck to lick around the shell of his ear before biting down on the lobe hard enough to nearly sever it, “Have you?”

“Fuck!” Instead of jerking away, he leaned into her as she sucked the blood from his ear and then moved to lap it from his lips. His cock sprang to life as her tongue slowly licked his mouth clean.

Magic clouded the room, thick and almost tangible as his energy and hers flowed in and out of the other, looping through both bloodstreams and amping both sets of hormones.

He growled as he spun her around and forced face down onto the bed. Using his foot to spread her legs apart, he fumbled at his zipper.

With a laugh, Riley rolled easily away from him. Before he could react, she was behind him, her teeth digging into the back of his neck. He went still as she nipped small bite marks into his flesh, moving upward until her lips were against his ear, “If anyone’s going to be thrown down on the bed and taken, it’s you, my prince.”

She shoved him hard enough to send him sprawling face-first on the bed and then climbed on top of him, straddling the small of his back. Her nails ran down his back gently at first then hard enough to leave angry red welts in their wake.

He tried to flip over but she placed a hand on each side of his upper back and pressed him into the bed as she leaned forward and used her teeth, fangs still retracted, to nip and bite her way across the smooth hardness of the musculature of his back.

His struggles to regain dominance belied the soft whimpers of pleasure emanating from his throat. He gasped as her teeth tore his flesh, his cock throbbing into the mattress beneath him. Her mouth covered the back of his body in teeth-shaped bruises from his neck down to his thighs, each little bite sending shockwaves of ecstasy crashing through him until he was panting for breath and no longer struggling beneath her.

She pushed his legs apart and brought her mouth to the tender underside of his balls, her tongue stroking long, warm lines along it.

“Goddamn it!” He roared as he finally flipped himself over, frantic desire coursing through him. He needed to be inside her, and he needed it now.

He scrambled onto his knees and jerked her further onto the bed, spinning her as he did so. His hands tore at the waistband of his pants as his eyes swept down her body, naked and sprawled out before him like the offering it was.

She sat up with a smile of amusement and reached for his pants, “Having trouble? Let me return the favor.”

Ignoring the fastenings, she tore his clothes from his body and then pulled him down on top of her.

His hand shot out to grab her by the throat as he brought his lips to hers in a brutal kiss. Her legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him closer as his mouth moved from hers, his body sliding downward so he could lavish attention on her perfectly rounded breasts. He palmed one as he pulled the puckered nipple of the other between his teeth.

Her fingers pressed into him, nails scratching a bloody trail from his shoulders to the small of his back.

His pupils were completely lust-blown when he lifted his head to gaze into her eyes, his desire so thick he almost couldn’t breathe. His breathing was heavy, and his voice ragged as he panted, “Riley…”

She wrapped herself around him and then flipped them both, so she was straddling him. She ran a finger down the side of his jaw, “Don’t worry my darkling prince, I know what you want and I’m going to give it to you.”

She lowered herself onto him and slid herself slowly up and down his shaft, ignoring his attempts to force a faster pace, until he cried out in frustration.

“Please…” he breathed out.

She subtly gave in, matching the rhythm he wanted.

Sweat covered him as he thrust upwards into her, his fingers digging into her hips as he quickened their pace. Their bodies moved together in a perfect rhythm, each delicious collision sending jolts of magically charged electricity through them both.

His body lifted upward as hers crashed down, his lips parted as his glazed eyes watched her move on top of him, her body a work of art, the sounds issuing from her throat musical.

Suddenly, she stilled on top of him.

His fingers dug in deeper as he stared up at her in confusion, his lust-clouded brain unable to process the interruption, “Why are you stopping?”

“I want your blood, Liam.”

“Take it,” he whispered hoarsely, “Just don’t stop what you were doing.”

“You have to say it.”

“Say what?” He blinked up at her.

She started moving on top of him again, with excruciating slowness, “That you give it willingly.”

His eyes fell closed as he turned his head to the side with a whisper, “I give it willingly.”

A triumphant grin twisted her lips as her fangs slid out. She leaned forward and sank them into his jugular, the sweet saltiness of his blood exploding into her mouth as she ground herself against him.

A psychic link exploded into being as his life force spilled into her mouth, blissful surrender sweeping through both of them as carnal pleasure was heightened by the vampire venom in the victim and by the blood lust in the vampire.

Both could feel their own pleasure as well as the pleasure of the other, the merging of his desire and hers combined with the euphoric rush of the bite itself.

He tasted amazing. His blood was sweeter than anything she’d ever experienced. She drank deeply as he propelled himself into her over and over again.

Blood, heat, desire, sweat, and adrenaline rushed together as their bodies resumed the fever pitch their mutual need had driven them to. They clung to one another desperately as they rode the crest of ecstasy until it crashed into the shore, wave after wave washing over and through them as the rest of existence bled into nothingness. There was only the two of them, only this moment, only her fangs buried in his body and his cock pulsing deep inside of hers. His blood filled her mouth as his cum filled her center and there was nothing else.

She stopped before she drained him. His death wasn’t the goal. She withdrew her fangs and licked the puncture wound, the anticoagulants in her saliva stopping the flow of blood and closing the wound.

Licking her lips as she moved to lay on the mattress next to him, she inhaled his scent deeply, “I never knew elves tasted so good.”

“Maybe it’s just me.” He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close against his body with a contented sigh.

She snuggled into his side with the taste of his blood on her tongue and the thrill of victory in her soul.

His blood and his magic were now coursing through her veins. He had no idea the power he had just given her.

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zombryz · 1 year

Text

♡ all my suffering ♡ chapter 2

˗ˏˋ hello ˎˊ˗ & thx for reading... again :3

Chapter Two

masterlist | Prev. Chapter 1 | Next Chapter 3 | ao3 | playlists (dabi & shigaraki)

Pairings: Shigaraki x f!reader x Dabi

A/N: Sorry this took so long to update. I want to get on a more consistent schedule. Also, this will soon have some season 6 of bnha spoilers! Please read with that in mind :)

Warnings: Specific to this chapter - blood, character death | (current, may change throughout the story) PSTD, Death, depression, angst, abuse (physical and emotional), possessiveness, memory loss, eventual lemon, smut, slowburn

Word Count: 5k

You had just gotten used to sleeping in Dabi’s bed when Shigaraki ripped away the one thing that brought you comfort. He dismissed Dabi’s role of babysitting you and made you Toga’s problem. The days passed quickly but you chalked it up to sleeping them away. Since you were kidnapped by the league your sleep schedule changed drastically. You became a night owl and it took some getting used to. The league was warming up to you though, Toga and Twice became your closest “friends” since you were technically “under” their “supervision”. They were kind to you and treated you as one of their own. This group really felt like they had an unspoken rule to look out for one another and you liked that, especially since you didn’t recognize that feeling from your past. Your past was complicated. You longed for remembering it all. The daily confusion was becoming unbearable. There were some memories that slowly started to come back over time, waves of deja-vu. Some came to you in your dreams, like meeting with an old friend, or your life before ever being a pro-hero and attending U.A. Those were the nice dreams. After a while, the nightmares began. You dreamt of not being able to save people who were in pain. They would beg and beg and beg but you were stuck, sunken, and unmoving. You couldn’t help them, forced to watch them suffer. They were right there! Why? Why couldn’t you help them? You were failing. Again. You tried and tried, night after night with no give. You would wake up in a complete panic with your heart racing. Some nights you would scream yourself awake, arms flailing scanning the bed for your knives. Toga would sleepily rub her eyes awake and tell you it's alright. She would hold you close, coddle, and shush you so that you could eventually fall back asleep. Toga was so patient with you and you were grateful. But then your pro-hero dreams started, the ones where the public eye would belittle you and say that you weren’t good enough to be a hero. They would scrutinize you for working at a hospital and not being out in the field saving as many lives as you can with the quirk you had. The world would knock you down over and over again. They would spew hate online, an ongoing battle between being pretty enough or too pretty or how they wished you would wear something tighter to show more or cover up because your outfit was too tight. They hated you. No matter what you did, you weren’t good enough for them. The league felt different though like the world hated them just as much. Maybe that’s why they are the way that they are. You almost felt yourself growing comfortable with them, they looked out for you while the pro-heroes saw you as a threat like you would take away their precious moment of fame. Something you never understood, the life of a single-digit hero on the rise in the popularity poll. Either way, those nightmares carried weight outside of your dreams. When the league would speak negatively about heroes some of them would silence themselves so they wouldn’t hurt your feelings, Spinner and Toga mostly. You wanted so badly to speak up and tell them that you agreed with everything they were saying. You held your tongue though, never actually saying how you feel or telling them what you thought. You didn’t want to make the wrong move. What if they didn’t trust you yet and this feeling of safety was a façade?

A few weeks had passed and you met two other league members. Magne, a tall and strong woman with smooth, reddish magenta hair. She was cruel and brutal but had a soft spot for you and befriended you almost instantly. Her quirk was the magnetism of the genders, she carried a large magnet block that allowed her to pull or push people at will. She was very loyal to the league, which made you feel safe. The other member was Mr.Compess, a brilliant thief who wore a long mustard yellow trench coat, black and white mask, and a top hat. All of the members were coming out of hiding so it felt like Shigaraki had to be planning something big. All this commotion made you notice Dabi’s absence over the course of the last couple of weeks. He wasn’t at the bar much so you had assumed it meant Shigaraki was sending him out on missions, but when he was, he would spend a lot of time in his room. Was he okay? Was he avoiding you? You hadn’t seen much of Shigaraki either after your strange encounter the night he choked you and forced you to activate your quirk. Alas, here they both were, Dabi and Shigaraki, across from you at the league meeting. Everyone gathered at a random, abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. Shigaraki called a meeting but didn’t inform anyone as to why. All the villains sat around on wood pallets and plastic containers. You decided to take a seat next to Magne and Toga at a small wooden table with mismatched chairs that looked like it had been left by the old employees of the warehouse. Toga had her legs crossed over your knees in a way that made you remember wanting a girl bestie at her age. You were sometimes glad that you could be that for her. The only league member missing was Twice, you wondered where he was. The league was quiet when suddenly the large garage doors were yanked open, the metal scraped against the concrete ground and the high-pitched screech made your skin crawl. Shigaraki, who was sitting atop a makeshift thrown of stacked wooden pallets at the back of the warehouse, adjusted his height and slouched lower in his position. Dabi leaned on the wall next to Mr.Compress who was to the left of Magne. It felt like he didn’t care to be here.

“You brought us the top dog, huh, Twice?” Shigaraki’s low and scratchy voice radiates throughout the warehouse. Another masked man enters behind Twice, alone. The man is tall and pale, with short, shaggy auburn hair. You’re seated further back but from what you can tell he has golden eyes and long eyelashes. His eyebrows are thin and dark and he has three piercings on his left ear. The biggest, most notable features are his plague doctor mask, fuzzy purple coat, and white gloves. He sent chills down your spine and you didn’t understand why yet.

“Hey, hey, hey, Who’s he?” Toga speaks up, making you feel better about not knowing what's going on.

“He’s what you’d call ‘yakuza’, the young leader of the Shie Hassaikai. You can call him Overhaul,” Shigaraki is irritated by Toga’s question, or maybe irritated by Overhaul. He seems very irritable in general today, more so than you remember.

“So,” Magne stands up, “why is he here?” moving her magnet block in front of you and Toga. Her body language makes you tense up, she doesn’t trust him.

Before anyone gets the chance to answer, Overhaul walks closer to the group, staring at Shigaraki with his hands crossed behind his back.

“Hero Killer: Stain, Muscular, and Moonfish. They were all first-class game pieces, but you lost them right away didn’t you?” Overhaul starts with a condescending tone. His voice is hoarse and much deeper than you expected. He raises his head up at Shigaraki to see his reaction but there was none. Finally, he starts scanning the room taking the league in. His eyes landed on yours and you shift your eyes away from his uncomfortably. He ignores this and turns towards Shigaraki’s covered face once more.

“Are you here to challenge me?” Shigaraki leans closer and crosses his hands to let his hand rest on top of his palms, elbows on his thighs, and legs spread and hanging off the edge of the pallets. He felt a rush of excitement at the thought of being challenged by a notorious gang leader. “I’m the one in charge here.”

Overhaul speaks directly to the league now, completely ignoring Shigaraki’s remarks. “Come work for me, I’ll show you how well I can use you,” he glances back over to you again, his eyes not leaving your form this time. Dabi notices his lingering eyes and slowly inches himself off the wall he was leaning on. He steps past Mr.Compress and Magne to be in closer proximity to you. Shigaraki’s eyes start to follow Dabi’s movements and then move to Overhaul’s line of sight almost instinctively. He notices Overhaul's fixation on you too. “Make me your new leader,” Overhaul nearly growls under his mask. You could tell by his mannerisms that he was used to getting what he wants. He sounds entitled and his request feels like a demand.

The air went still and you could almost hear Shigaraki’s jaw clenching from anger. No one said anything. There was a long pause and Shigaraki considered this for a moment. He decided he was going to dust him. Before he could act on his vexation, Magne jumped up out of her seat and swung her giant magnet at Overhaul in one barreling motion. She didn’t like him questioning her leader. Suddenly, her quirk activated surrounding Overhaul in a blue aura. His whole body was being pulled towards Magne, his feet dragging at their heels in front of him. Oh no, this was going to be bad. Without thinking, you immediately take action and skid across the table, knocking Toga’s legs off of your knees in the process. Once Overhaul got closer to Magne, you could see him pulling off the white glove on his left hand. Without knowing what his quirk was, you figured you’d have the upper hand by rushing him. While running, you swiftly take out the knives in your hero suit’s holsters thankful that your memory of combat came back. You tried to run as fast as you could to the center of the warehouse where Magne had Overhaul in her magnetic field. Once she had him close enough in range, Magne pulled back and hammered down her magnet. Your brain had processed what was happening in slow motion. His hand slowly reached out for her at the same time, just slightly faster. You gather momentum by lowering yourself to the ground and spinning in a circle on your heel, simultaneously flipping one of your knives over in your palm to pull back and aim before releasing the knife full force at Overhaul. Once you take the shot you start running again. Overhaul yelps in pain, clinging to his forearm where your blade hit. You were only a few feet away now when you noticed Magne’s skin starting to bubble up. It was too late. Within seconds she was gone, her upper body exploding in front of you. Instead of continuing on the pursuit to stop Overhaul you instead slide on your knees to catch Magne’s lower body, not knowing if your mind was playing tricks on you. What the fuck? The now lonely magnet emits a loud thud on the ground behind you, covering you in her blood. You didn’t notice Mr.Compress was running after you until he was also face to face with Overhaul.

“Noooo!” you scream, but your voice comes out shaky and weak. Warning him was futile. Overhaul had already grabbed Mr.Compress' arm and pitcher swung it clean off, leaving the villain in a pool of his own blood. While you were trying to process what was happening, Shigaraki leaped from his throne of pallets and pushed toward Overhaul. Before he could reach him, a deafening boom came from the garage doors of the warehouse. It was Overhaul’s backup. You covered your face in an attempt to shield yourself from the falling concrete and debris. A giant mutated plague doctor now stood where the doors used to be. The explosion caused Shigaraki to slide backward and he was now standing only a few inches away from you. This was becoming a usual thing for the two of you, Shigaraki blocking you from danger and you cowering in fear behind him. You were still holding Magne’s lower body when your lower back started heating up. It was hot, way too hot. You look over your shoulder and see a vast wall of blue flames that Dabi sent out to protect you and Shigaraki. It was also a warning shot to the Hassaikai. Through the flames you see Overhaul’s group retreating. The rest of the league had already sprung to action but the Hassaikai didn’t care, they were done.

“Let’s cool down and talk again some other day,” Overhaul haphazardly throws a peace sign into the air while walking out of the building leaving the League of Villains to burn. His arm dripping in blood from your knife.

Your shock wears off and you remember you’re holding Magne’s limp lower body. Tears start to fall on their own and you’re not sure if it's because a friend just died in front of you or if its from the smoke caused by Dabi’s flames. You attempt to activate your quirk, not knowing if it would even work or not. After all, you’ve never used it on half-bodies before. Your eyes glow white and your hair begins to float. You drop your head at Magne’s belt line and your tears soak your face. Before you know it you’re a crying mess. Her blood mixed with your tears caused your hair to stick to the sides of your face. She was so kind to you, why’d she have to die? It’s not working. With your head still down you feel something softly brush your shoulder. The last thing you recall is being cut off from the rest of the group and surrounded by Dabi’s flames. Who could possibly be touching you right now? You open your eyes and stare at the ground through wet lashes. It was Shigaraki, you could tell by his red sneakers. The leader was standing in front of you. When you didn’t look up at him, he took a moment to kneel down to your level and carefully freed his face from his hand mask. What is he doing? He places his hand on your shoulder, one pinky as far away from you as possible causing you to finally look up at him. Your glowing white eyes met his sad carmine ones. Neither of you pulls away from the eye contact. He looks tired like he hasn’t been sleeping at all. You wouldn’t know if he has or not, he never comes out of his room. With the same hand that brushed your shoulder, using his thumb and pointer finger, he grabs your chin to angle your face up slightly. What is this feeling? When he touched you, time froze. If you were paying any attention to your surroundings you could've sworn that even Dabi’s flames stood still. You looked deeper into his eyes and let your quirk deactivate, letting your guard down around him once more. If he wanted to, he could dust you right where you sat, but he doesn’t. Your eyes take their time returning to their normal color. Shigaraki looks at you the whole time they change, unblinking. You have a really hard time deciphering what your feeling but you’re curious if he feels it too. His presence brought you solace at that moment. Was this an understanding? Maybe mutual respect? Maybe he was just trying to comfort you. You couldn’t tell. He finally breaks eye contact by looking down at your lips. His eyes are heavy-lidded and you stare back at him with wide eyes, unsure of his motives. With his fingers still on your chin, he starts rotating your face to check your head and neck. You were covered in blood so he wanted to make sure it wasn’t your own.

“You’re ok, c’mon,” he gruffs, dropping your face causing you to release the breath you’d been holding, “let’s go”. He then stands up and places the stray hand over his face once more. Shigaraki knells again and dusts the rest of Magne’s body leaving her ash sticking to your bloodied palms. He gets up a final time, turns on his heel and walks through Dabi’s flames without extinguishing them as if he didn’t care if he got burned. You wipe your tears and grab your knife that was a few feet away on the ground, covered in Overhaul’s blood. Good. It’s what he deserves for what he did to Magne. You close your eyes and follow Shigaraki through Dabi’s flames. This time they didn’t feel hot.

♡

A few days had passed since losing Magne and coming into contact with Overhaul. Back at the hideout you healed Mr.Compress to the best of your ability, you felt bad that he lost his arm but a few days later he just returned with a robotic one anyways. Everyone else seemed on edge and not happy about Overhaul possibly knowing where they were at all times. Apparently, Twice made sure it was only Overhaul with him but somehow his men still found the league, meaning one of his guys has a tracking quirk. You on the other hand were trying to figure out what had happened between you and Shigaraki and the feeling you had when he looked at you. Too bad he was nowhere to be found so you couldn’t explore it deeper. You ended up keeping to yourself for most of the week when Shigaraki came out of hiding and called for another LOV meeting. It was a quick meeting that ended in Shigaraki deciding to move everyone out of the hideout because it wasn’t safe anymore.

Shigaraki had you all hole up in an abandoned, multi-family house in the middle of the woods in the countryside. Toga decided that no matter what, you would share a bedroom. You liked that idea especially since she was the only one who knew your nightmares and how to help you fall back asleep. It was the day of the move. You were walking in the woods with Toga and she was telling you about the flavor of birds' blood. You weren’t really paying attention though because you heard shuffling in the bushes to your right. Suddenly, Dabi jumped from the bushes to scare you both. Toga screamed at the top of her lungs which elicited a giggle from you. Uh, oh, she’s mad. You watched her punch Dabi as hard as she could in the arm. He kept laughing at her so she flipped him off before running toward Spinner and Twice leaving you alone with Dabi and the trees. Dabi was still laughing at his prank so you rolled your eyes at him with a smile and turned around to keep walking. He let his last few giggles out before catching up to you and matching your pace, walking beside you now. It was cute to see him happy, you felt like that was rare. When you looked over at him again you noticed one of his staples coming undone from him laughing so hard. It was bleeding slightly and you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Even in happiness, he was in pain. It was getting colder as the night went on so you wrapped your arms around yourself. It had been weeks since you both had the chance to talk so it felt a little awkward at first.

“So,” Dabi’s voice came out small, “we’ve come full circle, you and I,” he falls back a little to walk behind you now, “haven’t we?”

“Yeah, last time we were in the woods together you tried to fry me,” you let out a girlish laugh, making Dabi’s heart flutter. The moonlight was dim and he couldn’t help but watch the way your hips swayed when you walked. He caught himself grinning like an idiot as you were walking toward the group's next hideout. Up ahead, the house looked sad and solemn all on its own and covered in foliage. It was elegant still and three-storied accompanied by a wrap-around porch. It had brick arches on the bottom floor and a green rooftop. Dabi couldn’t help but imagine watching you walk up to this house under different circumstances. Maybe even a life you shared together, holding hands, bearing his child, and building a life together. He wishes. He could never have that though, his life was predetermined from birth. His fate. “Dabi, you okay?” you turn around and see him standing a few feet back looking down at his feet lost in thought. You walk over to him and nudge his shoulder.

“Hey, can I tell you something no one else knows?” Dabi looks at you, excitement in his voice. Whatever it was it sounded like he wanted to get it off his chest badly.

“Of course, you can,” you smile sweetly at him.

“Dabi isn’t my real name, it’s my villain name,” he says, voice changing from excitement to sadness in an instant. He finally notices the blood from his staple so he wipes it away gently as if he was wiping a tear from his cheek. “My real name’s Touya,” he adds in a more serious tone, still looking down at the ground.

“Touya,” you repeat back to him, in a sing-songy tone. He finally looks up at you and flashes you the slightest smile. It felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulder. Hearing you say his name, his real name, brought a sense of nostalgia that he wanted to hear so badly. “So, would you like me to call you that instead?” you ask shyly.

“Nah, that’s ok,” he pauses, “It’s a dead name after all,” he sighs and the breath he was holding came out shaky, “I’m still Dabi, I just wanted you to know.”

“Okay, Dab-” you try to get out. Fuck it, he thinks. He grabs both sides of your face and kisses you under the moonlight. How could he not with you looking at him like that? For a moment you’re shocked. What is happening? He steps closer to deepen the kiss causing your head to lift slightly to adjust to his height. Why can’t he have this? He thinks, after all, he’s the only thing standing in the way of having what he wants, and what he wants is you.

You kiss him back. To both his and your surprise you kiss him back. Your hands trail up his chest, his neck, and land on the sides of his face. You gently place your fingers across his stapled and scarred skin. Whether you needed this or he did didn’t matter as the world around you became a blur. Dabi rubs small circles on your cheek with the soft part of his thumb while he laps your lips slowly with his own. Soft and delicate lips meet charred and tight ones. He liked the way your lips felt against his, and the way you tasted. He tenderly bit down on your bottom lip eliciting a small yelp from your mouth causing your lips to widen which he took full advantage of to get closer to you.

“I’m not supposed to do this,” he breathily whispers into your mouth. What did he mean by that?

Dabi knit his eyebrows together in bliss before he went back for your lips, swiping the tip of his tongue across your bottom lip where he had previously bit. He pulled away slightly to plant small kisses on the sides of your lips and on your cupids bow.

“Y/N!” Toga yelled out for you. It was too dark to see her on the porch but you figured she was there. Damn it.

You shared your last breath together with Dabi before breaking your closeness.

“I’m coming!” you yell back at her. “I-uh gotta go,” your lips partially sore from his kiss, “maybe I’ll see you later?” you look up at Dabi and his powder-blue eyes are glistening in the moonlight. His staples are as shiny as ever. He looks so beautiful.

“Cool,” he answers nonchalantly. He nods his head towards the house signaling you to go on ahead so you do. He puts his hands in his pockets and stays back to create some space. You take off in a light jog up to the house. He looks up at the moon and laughs silently to himself. What the fuck did he just do? Shigaraki was not going to be happy.

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