#Wrinkles problem treatment | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

madschiavelique · 2 months ago

Text

A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 9 - Death

summary : maybe it is time for reader to move on from patterns that are now useless and reconsider things

content warnings : some angst, then some comfort, then more angst, then more comfort, some crude language an mentions of harassment

word count : 6.1k

author's note : okay i think i might write my old bg3 requests still sitting in my inbox after this but!!!! im excited to write the next chap

proofread by the lovely @yaffles-world <3

masterlist : here ．．discord : here ．．playlist : here

taglist : @doctorho @6selkie @yunloyal @kryscent @hypocritic-trash-baby @kapitankarate @a-lovers-card @ababanerb @lolixsstuff @forget-me-not-my-dear @smolanchovy @shugar0cone0alt @harrys--ferret-blog @suuummerrr @stillinracooncity @noxturnalmoth @dlbitch @cloufire @csolya @kathyholdsagrudge @furblrwurblr @potatointhedirt @atrocioushaircut @ren-ni @schrodingersraven @urmommt

You had spent your Saturday recovering, not without frustration. It was a waste of time, you thought. You could have taken advantage of a day without any classes or work like that to study and make more progress, but Selene had come to visit you, worried.

She officially met Sky, who had always admired her since her first lessons with her. Selene had come to your bedside, placing a gentle hand on your forehead for a moment, then letting it slide down to your warm cheek. She sighed, familiar with your overworking habits.

She asked Sky about your night, about the prescribed treatment, and Selene couldn't help but exchange a knowing glance with you when Viktor was mentioned, especially for such chivalrous deeds. She smiled a playful ‘see, I told you so’ which made you pull your cover over your head in annoyance.

When she left, Sky came back to you, bringing you a chicken broth to restore your health, which she hoped you'd consume to the last drop.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this and calling them, calling him. But..." She sighed, watching you finally eat something with relief. "You were working yourself to death, and with such a pace, you probably wouldn't have been able to pass the exams at all if you'd kept going."

You swallowed your mouthful with difficulty, a small knot of shame and regret tightening it. You'd been so obsessed, so fixated on outdoing yourself and winning back your number one spot from Viktor that you'd become nothing more than an information-gobbling machine.

You didn't even need it, you'd just decided to get ahead on the next year's syllabus in the hope of impressing in the papers and showing your dedication. How could you be so stupid?

"Your state was deteriorating visibly..." Sky reflected, looking down at her hands before only meeting your gaze for a moment. "You really scared me, you know."

Your heart split in two. You placed your lunch tray on your bedside table, taking Sky's hands in yours and seeking her gaze despite her bowed head.

"Hey," you murmured in your tired voice as you smiled softly at her when she looked back at you. "You did the right thing, Sky. Without you..." you sighed, thinking back on your stupidity, "I don't know where I'd be right now. This was going to eat me alive until there would be nothing left of me but a white chalk outline on my desk."

She smiled softly, squeezing your hands. Her eyes glistened, her chin trembling slightly as she took off her glasses.

"Oh, Sky..." You pulled her into your arms, holding her close. "I'm sorry."

You couldn't imagine how tired she must have been, seeing you wasting away like that, not listening to her, not hearing her. She had her own revisions, her own things to do, and you had made your problem hers.

You could feel her forehead wrinkling, her hands trembling slightly around you as she twitched.

Since when did you become such an important part of someone's life that they cared that much about you?

What would have happened if, for one more year, you'd never had a flatmate? And if that flatmate hadn't been Sky, would she have had even an ounce of patience like your friend?

You'd fucked up and nearly gone off the deep end, and Sky had done everything she could to avoid it.

"I promise you to never do that again," you vowed, pulling away from her to run your thumb over her cheek and wipe away the tears. "Please, don't cry on me. Cry on... I don't know, Heimerdinger's hairstylist."

Don't cry for me, I'm not worth a waste of tears, not yours.

She laughed nervously, her eyes going to the ceiling. "I don't know why I'm crying, really, this is..." she sniffed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, "this is stupid."

"No, it's not," you smiled, "It's good to cry."

She raised her eyebrows, wiggling her nose and shrugging. "Well, you never do."

"That's because I sold my lacrimal glands," you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood by joking.

And it worked - she laughed, the sadness slowly evaporating from her face. "So you have no tears, but you still have your heart, right ?"

You closed your fist, banging it against your chest. "It's a dusty engine, but it does its work."

"Well," she stood up, "I hope it can still feel something."

You observed her for a moment, picking up a saucepan and filling it with water. No doubt to make coffee, or at least tea to ward off your addiction and prevent your mechanical heart from overheating under the caffeine. No amount of Piltovian gold could offer you anything like Sky's sweetness.

"My heart's full of room for the very few friends I have." You picked up your bowl of broth again, its warmth cupped against your fingers. "Its aorta is named after you."

She turned to you, smiling, her eyes filling again with tears as she breathed in.

"You can't just say things like that and not expect me to ruin a box of these," she described movements in the air with her hands in ridiculous, exagerated swirls, "silk-soft tissues they have here."

"Their toilet paper is so thick and soft it feels like we're using pillows," you sneered before blowing on the bouillon.

"Right?!" Sky exclaimed, "It's only been like, a month and a half since I've been here and it all feels so fancy. Everything is so... clean."

"I know!" You laughed, "It's infuriating. The streets barely have a scratch, the buildings have colours straight out of a kid's colouring book, and they have trees."

She sighed, visualising the vegetation the city had before her eyes fell back on yours. "You never get used to it, right?"

You swallowed your mouthful of broth, pressing your lips into a thin line. "Never."

She leaned back against the worktop, watching you for a moment. "Seriously though." She tilted her head to one side. "Don't ever do that again."

You smiled, bringing your forefinger and thumb to your ear and pressing on the lobe.

It was a custom in Zaun to pledge your word. In the Undercity, you pressed your lobe as if you were piercing it, to imaginatively seal in the skin a ring other than the one on your finger. However, everyone knows that if you pull too hard on a piercing, you can tear the flesh, and find it difficult to retie the skin so that it can be pierced again. So the promise was made with a symbolic ring, anchored in the skin, that the promise would be kept.

"May my flesh tear apart if, by misfortune, I betrayed," you recited.

During the rest of the last week of classes before the exams, you resumed a much more normal revision routine than the original, much to Sky's delight. You'd revise with her in the afternoons outside class, asking each other questions about the subjects you shared while you were trying not to die laughing from the stupid ways you looked with your facemasks during skincare time.

When Friday came around, you decided to go to the library again. Unconsciously, it had become a ritual. With Viktor or without, you intended to surround yourself with knowledge as immense as possible.

You went and sat down at a table, alone, while many students who had come for the same reason were already crowding most of the available ones. You took out your things, rereading your index cards for the umpteenth time until you were almost ready to recite them by heart if the need arose.

You couldn't help but lose concentration when you heard your name spoken in the distance, coming from voices that weren’t familiar to you, further behind your back.

"And to say Viktor got put with her on Heimerdinger's subject," one said, chuckling.

"I wonder which of them pulls their hair out more in each other's company."

You tried not to think about it, but since, for once, the conversation wasn't all about the walking street lamp, you couldn't help but let your ears hang close to their mouths.

"Did you see her the other day? A vision of the apocalypse. Hollow cheeks and dead eyes like she hadn't eaten in a month."

"Gotta have hollow cheeks to suck the teachers better," her classmate sneered.

Your jaw tightened, trying to ignore their remarks. This wasn't your first time hearing such things - the previous two years hadn't been as gentle as this one, even if Viktor had caused a few problems with his arrival.

"Can you believe what she did to Tyler?"

"She's an animal." They both laughed, causing you to sink back into your chair.

"How do you think Viktor handles her?"

"He doesn't, she's just a handicap to him and he seems to have an embarrassing enough one as it is."

You inhaled. Someone will probably tell them to be quiet so as not to disturb the peace of the library. You hoped.

"Who's a handicap?"

Your eyes widened as you suddenly turned around. Viktor was standing there, facing them, both students suddenly looking very confused and ashamed.

"Viktor," one of them laughed nervously, "this was just a joke, she..."

But the student didn't have time to come up with an excuse. Viktor raised an eyebrow before speaking.

"She's an incredible person who no one can defeat," he informed them, the latter two lowering their eyes on their notes suddenly invested in their revisions. "Except me."

He punctuated his sentence, turning away from them and meeting your gaze. He seemed surprised, not expecting to find you there, at least not doing nothing when such needlessly cruel nonsense was uttered in your name.

Inevitably, of course, he moved towards you.

Except me. The phrase made you roll your eyes for a moment before you tried to read information from your notes that hadn't needed reading for a long time.

He sat down opposite you, keeping his hand on the pommel of his cane. "Your name seems to be on everyone's lips, Miss."

"What can I say," you sighed, "the obsession they have for me is an undying addiction."

However, Viktor didn't seem amused at all.

"Why do you let them say such things about you without lifting a finger?"

You bit the inside of your lip, feeling the pressure of his gaze on you as your eyes scanned uselessly over your revision sheets.

"It's not the first time I've heard that kind of comment about me," you confirmed without much interest, "I'll survive it."

"So you spend most of your time worrying about the injustices other people experience but you push your own under a doormat?" Viktor summed up, not seeming genuinely thrilled at the idea.

"If I could push the injustice that Tyler is by his very existence off the face of this world, I'd be stepping on some rich blonde aristocrat every time I left and returned from home."

But Viktor still wasn't laughing, far from it. When your eyes finally met his, they were dark.

He sighed. "Are you trying to punish yourself for something by neglecting yourself so much?"

I'd like to forget more than anything else in the world. The thought was taking over your soul, eating away at you like a gangrene with an insatiable hunger.

"Of course," you chuckled, exaggerating a falsely happy tone.

"Stop this." His tone was firm.

"Stop what?" you questioned.

"Trying to make something funny out of this."

You frowned, raising an eyebrow. "What? You're not feeling in the mood for our ritual chit chats?"

"Do I look like I'm joking around right now?"

His eyes had the same gleam, carried the same weight as when he'd held you in place in your bed just a week ago. You almost gulped, speechless. Why was he reacting like that? Why was he worried about you?

You lowered your eyes, licking your lips as you returned to your notes.

"Fine," you admitted, dropping your sarcastic tone. "I guess I owe you for saving my life, anyway."

It didn't sound like it, but it was probably the closest you'd come to a ‘thank you’ for him so far. He seemed surprised that you were finally cooperating in the conversation, that you were at last sending him a very subliminal magic word.

His shoulders slumped, as if the idea of being angry with you was stupid.

"How are you feeling?" He finally asked.

"I'm no longer sick, if that's the question you meant to ask."

"It was, but also," he brought his cane up between his legs, clasping both hands on the pommel as he came to rest his chin on it, "I just wanted to know how you are doing."

Why are you doing this? You were thinking back over the last few weeks. His questions during the power cut, the attention he'd paid to you, staying awake all night by your side to make sure you were taking your medication properly, and now...

"Well," you swallowed, these thoughts unsettling you for a moment and sending a foreign warmth into your belly, "the exams are approaching and I think you've had quite the close look on their effect on me so... yeah."

He considered you, tilting his head to the side until his cheek was the one pressed against the back of his hands. He scanned you, his gaze sending a warm wind up your spine.

"You're still on the treatment, right?"

The horrible powder you had to mix in a glass at least twice a day wasn't the moment you were looking forward to most in your daily routine, but you did it anyway, under Sky's sharp eyes.

You remained silent, just to see how Viktor would react and whether, as he had dictated, he would make sure you stayed in bed no matter what.

Faced with your silence, he raised an eyebrow as he straightened up, finally wrinkling his forehead as he frowned.

"Right?" he repeated, almost menacingly.

"Relax." A nervous chuckle escaped you. "Yes, I'm taking it."

He sighed in relief at the news, while you shook your head in confusion.

"You're putting all this effort... for me? Why"

The phrase sounded alien in your mouth, as if you weren't worth the time or energy of such dedication. He gazed at you for a moment, his eyes roving over your index cards.

"You know why."

"Because you can't have your best rival go against you while she's sick?" you recited.

"Because I don't want to be your rival."

You found this answer profoundly absurd.

"What do you mean-" But he cut you off, annoyed.

"What do you want, hmm? To become Heimerdinger's assistant?"

Of course, you thought, but the way Viktor had said it sounded... easy, too easy. Or at least, too easy for you.

"I don't intend to be his assistant, and I'm going to tell you why."

He stood up, walking around the table until he was beside you and leaning in slightly.

"Because I've already been his assistant, and I stopped."

The words echoed inside you, like the cracking of something you thought was indestructible. Your lips parted in shock, watching him with huge eyes as he straightened up.

"In any case. I wanted to make sure that you'd be back in good shape." He began to walk towards the library exit, turning one last time to give you a playful look. "And now that I'm sure you'll be in full shape, I know I don't need to hold back, hm, rival?"

He turned away, heading for the big door, leaving you with a short-circuited brain. What did he mean by "already been"? What did he mean he had stopped? How had Viktor ever been Heimerdinger's assistant?

When the sentence finally reached your mind after a long travel from your ears, you gathered your things in a flash as the questions began to fly and you almost ran to catch up with him. You caught up with him in the corridors, under the astonished gazes of all the students.

"What?" you asked, out of breath from the sudden exertion and the gust of wind the news had knocked from your chest.

He turned to you, slightly surprised that you'd practically chased after him. He'd probably expected you to sit at your table, mulling things over until the questions got too much for you and you decided to come and see him after a day or two of mental torment.

"You've been Heimerdinger's assistant?" you repeated, adjusting the strap of your satchel on your shoulder.

He shrugged, turning away from you. "Yes."

Was he really just going to leave like that? Leaving you in agony for answers you wanted more than anything? No, it wasn't going to be like that.

You grabbed his wrist, much to his surprise, and pulled him with you into an empty adjoining corridor. Once you were out of sight, checking from one end of the corridor to the other to see if anyone was there, you finally regained his gaze.

There was something in his eyes, like a hint of something that kept his lips parted until they closed and his eyes lowered to your hand still gripping his wrist.

You let go, the heat of shame spreading across your neck and cheeks for a moment as you took a step away, crossing your arms over your chest.

"When were you his assistant?"

He leaned against the wall, sighing as he stared at you.

"You do remember Jayce's trial, don't you?"

How could you forget? You hadn't been present at the trial. Selene had invited you to come as it concerned your friend, but you were too afraid of the aristocratic eyes and the pressure they would put on you.

The story remained vague. Due to special circumstances that remained under the security and secrecy of the administration as to the extent of Jayce's activities, he had been allowed to stay at the academy.

"Yes."

"By then, I had already been Heimerdinger’s assistant for a month.."

You now were certain you'd never seen him before. It was just one month into your summer holidays, and you had gone to Zaun to find Eris. Your chances of running into him were almost nil, no doubt about it.

"How did you get to become his assistant?" you quizzed.

He shrugged, and that simple movement made you want to scream. "I suppose he must have liked my assiduity enough to take me on. That and the fact that, with his little legs, I was bound to walk at his pace," he joked.

You held your breath in your lungs for a moment, before releasing it. He didn't seem to be lying, at least about the only serious part of his sentence. He was undoubtedly the best choice for Heimerdinger in any case.

However, it seemed to you that it wasn't so much exasperation that you were feeling - you were trying to understand what the feeling was... a relief, but not really about the fact that the assistant's place was free, no, a relief about Viktor that you couldn't really place at the moment.

"Why did you stop?" There was no longer any frustration in your voice, just a new-found curiosity.

Viktor seemed taken aback by your new intonation, straightening slightly against the wall. "It didn't interest me anymore."

What could he have found that was better? The thought, at last, that Viktor's aim was not to be an assistant for the rest of his life, crept into your mind. Viktor seemed to pick up on it.

"See? I told you we didn't have the same goal."

You finally realised what that feeling of relief was: you didn't have to hate him any more. You no longer had a reason to try to outdo him, no longer had a valid justification for becoming number one again. But why was it such a relief? There was rarely anything more gratuitous than hatred in what you knew, and it should have been the same for Viktor, so why was it such a relief not to have to hate him any more?

Hating him served no purpose, no motivation. It was useless, and what do you do with useless things?

You took half a step towards him.

"The truce you suggested, have you come up with any clauses?"

His eyebrows rose, his eyes widened. He lifted himself off the wall.

"Um no-" he began, but you cut him off.

"Find some, and I'll consider them."

And with that, you took off, leaving Viktor speechless.

You moved quickly, trying to get home as fast as possible. You were afraid that the street air, so pure and fresh, would wash away your conclusions and fuel a hatred that no longer had any reason to exist.

But you didn't go home straight away, making a diversion to Emeline's shop. As soon as you entered her shop, she didn't hesitate to jump on your neck and give you a hug.

"My little lamb," she enthused as she squeezed you until your ribs broke before cupping your face as if to examine you, "are you feeling better? You gave me quite a fright, you know! When your friend came to visit me and told me you were ill I nearly closed up shop to come and see you myself."

"Everything's fine," you laughed, squeezing her arms, "I've almost completely recovered!"

You'd decided that, after your chat with Viktor and all the effort you'd put into your revision, you deserved a little something to comfort you.

After a little chat with Emeline, she packed two pastries, one for you and one for Sky. Of course, she didn't forget to fill you up with an extra small packet of sweets that would have gone unsold during the day.

When you returned home, you greeted Sky with a smile and raised the two bags of treats to your head. She smiled in surprise.

"To what do we owe this feast?" she asked.

You shrugged. "Let's just say I've made resolutions for the better."

You'd been laughing all evening, stuffing your faces with these delicacies as you both took a well-deserved break from studying.

Your eyes turned to your tarot deck, you'd forgotten to draw any cards lately due to your revisions, so after wiping your hands full of sugar, you took the pack in hand.

“I see you pulling one almost every morning,” Sky remarked, lying on her stomach on your bed while you were cross-legged. “Why do you do that?”

You pulled out your cards in your hands. “To have a leitmotif to follow during the day. Although to be quite honest I don't follow their advice every time.”

She laughed softly, knowing by now your stubbornness like no other. “That doesn't surprise me at all.”

“Yeah well,” you smiled in turn as you shuffled the cards, ”some of them are not the best cards to wake up on to in the morning.”

So you cut your deck as usual, and looked at its underside. You raised your eyebrows.

“Just like this one.”

You showed Sky the card: Death.

She winced, her eyebrows furrowing as her mouth formed as if she were pronouncing the letter x.

“Okay, I get it,” she said, shaking her head. “Is it literal? I hope not, right?”

“Nah it's pretty safe.” You laughed. “The description of its meaning is in the little booklet.” You pointed to it with your chin, and Sky grabbed it, flipping through until she found the Death page.

“Transition. Underworld. Flux. Occultism. Letting go. Evolution requiring liberation. Metaphorical death.” She read. “Off to a great start apparently.”

You chuckled, observing the card as she continued reading. “Death moves across a field with a slow, steady march. A king lies dead. He represents the old systems of order cast aside. A bishop begs for mercy, a young girl turns away in fear and only a curious little girl looks up to greet death. She has not been taught to fear it.”

Your thumb passed over the little girl's drawing, your heart clenching.

“A ship sails away, heedless of death's march. A sun rises between two towers to reflect resurrection and new beginnings. All endings give way to new possibilities. Transformation leads to renewal and growth.” She raised her eyebrows. “Ain't as bad as I thought it would be.”

“Yeah,” you considered, thinking back on your day and the fact that the cards were pointing you in the right direction, ”indeed.”

Exam week was over. You'd had absolutely no trouble at all with any of the exercises. All the subjects were in the bag and you were finishing virtually ahead of schedule in every exam room.

Today was the day of results. The teachers had spent the weekend correcting everything, and the results boards had finally been displayed.

You woke up feeling lighter than you thought you would. Since realizing that there was no longer any point in chasing Viktor to victory, you'd relaxed.

You went down the hall with Sky, passing the student mailboxes for a moment so you could check if either of you had received anything.

You opened the metal door to a single letter, sealed with a metallic black wax seal you knew all too well: Eris.

You took the key to your apartment, using its teeth to open the envelope and take out the letter, which you brought to your nose.

Her letters always smelled of the essential oils and herbs that constantly appeased you. Without further ado, you unfolded the paper and read its contents.

My sweet friend,

I thought you were a lost cause in friendship, but I guess this year the wheel is really turning on your side. I'm delighted, and I imagine the same goes for Selene. I'd love to meet her, that Sky, she sounds absolutely charming. I'm guessing, though, that the day with your Five of Wands must have been no picnic, especially if - from what I understand - Emperor Viktor is to blame. But I'm sure that the Immeasurable Grandeur of the Prestigious Piltover Academy will crown your success.

You giggled to yourself as your eyes passed over the elegant, forced curves that Eris had taken care to add in response to your own inky bows.

I miss you so much. You know how the days are here in Zaun; I open, sell and consult, and close in the evening before any trouble starts. I'm paid with golden trinkets, new flowers to dry and other plants from other regions. I have managed to get some new customers, though, and not the least important ones. Renata Glasc herself has been to my shop.

You'd already heard of Renata Glasc, an ambitious woman who was growing in influence on the streets of Zaun. She wasn't a Chem Baroness, but at the rate she was going, it looked like she was well on her way to becoming one.

In fact, it's through her that I'm hearing about worrying things here. Common for Zaun, you may say, but I can't help thinking the worst. I'll tell you about it myself when we meet. I'm planning to come here around December 23, so let's meet at the usual bridge at three o'clock. I'll be staying with you for a few days. I can't tell you more. But I've lit a candle for you, wishing you success and good health.

I look forward to seeing you again, my dearest trouble,

Eris.

What could she possibly be worried about? The situation was invariably complicated in Zaun, but what could it be that she was worried about?

You carefully tucked the letter into your bag, heading out to the shuttle stop.

“Not too stressed?” Sky asked.

You huffed, a cloud of warmth rising into the air. The cold had been gaining in intensity for over a week, and all the students at the academy had donned their scarves.

“No.” you replied, confident. “You?”

“A bit,” she admitted, her breath trembling slightly.

“Hey,” you pressed your shoulder against hers as she turned to face you, ”you've got this. I know you do.”

She nodded, smiling at you as the shuttle arrived. The journey was swift, some students over-excited at the prospect of their results, others apprehensive about what was to come.

As you arrived at the golden gates of the academy, you noticed that neither Viktor nor Jayce were in sight. Perhaps they had decided to go to the academy later?

The group of students walked up to the scoreboards, an army of others already huddled in front of them.

Sky went in search of her name, while you breathed in, waiting for other students to pass before you.

You didn't know what awaited you at the top of the board, which name would be at the head. Did it still matter? Yes, it probably did, or it didn't. Did you want it to matter? Probably not. But did your mind keep wandering? Endlessly.

What if Viktor was still number one - would you be disappointed? What if you were number one - would you be satisfied? And if neither he nor you were number one, would you be revolted?

“Look who it is!”

That voice alone was enough to make you frown, raise your eyebrows and lower your eyelids in boredom.

Tyler.

You turned to him for a moment, him seeming pleased that you responded to his voice as you rolled your eyes and sighed.

“What do you want, blondie? Searching for a new name on the boards to torment?”

He chuckled, stepping toward you. “You don't change a winning team, darling. Have you found your place at the very bottom of the ranking?”

It was your turn to chuckle, turning to face him. He had no idea about your academic results, it seemed.

“Tyler you have as many neurons as you have eyes, and they're both fighting for any kind of connection.” You turned to the bulletin board, stepping forward slightly. “Do them mercy and close your eyelids for all eternity before we have to deal with a rain of fire and the horsemen and...”

But you didn't even finish your sentence, the words dying on your lips as your eyes came to rest on your name.

First place.

You were back in first place. Eyes and mouth wide open, you kept blinking to make sure your vision wasn't failing you. And the name underneath...

Viktor.

Your scores were almost equal, yours barely beating him.

“Told you I wasn't going to hold back.”

You turned towards the voice, the tinkle you now knew too well of his cane echoing on the floor. He stood there, serene, a small smile on his face before his lips pressed into an inverted grin and his eyebrows raised.

“You fight well, Miss.”

You couldn't help it - you cracked a smile at him. And Viktor seemed astonished, as if he'd never seen such a thing happen. No stupid remark, no pettiness behind your drawn lips, just sincere amusement and joy.

“What the...” Tyler's voice died in his throat as he took in the bulletin boards, turning to you. “How did you...”

You turned to him, his sole presence now not even enough to ruin your happiness and relief. “As if you could reach me,” you replied with a triumphant smile, walking out of the crowd to join Viktor.

Once you got away from all this tumult, he nodded. “You got first,” he remarked, “congratulations.”

You observed him for a second, his posture reflecting a sort of disappointment. Was it from losing? Or was it from the fact you seemed so happy in your rivalry with him? You sighed, rolling your eyes.

“Quit it,” you pronounced with a smile, shaking your head slightly. “We share this crown, and you perfectly know that.”

He said nothing, just gazing at you for a moment. There was this gleam, the tickling of a smile ready to be born on his lips as the satisfaction that, maybe, these ink duels you were both fencing would wash away and let something different be born from them.

He was apprehensive about saying something, but Jayce came towards you both.

“Ah, Jayce, exams went well?” You asked, knowing without a doubt that he didn't have to worry about his results.

“Oh yeah, perfect.” He nodded, pressing his lips into a thin line, his eyes darting from yours to Viktor's, surprised that you weren't quarrelling. “Say, hum... can I talk to you guys for a minute?”

Viktor and you exchanged a confused look, before ultimately following him.

“A masquerade?” you repeated, as if the word had never grazed your lips before.

Jayce had brought you to a room in the Academy where you could all talk without hearing the multiple cries of students as to their result. And considering what he had to discuss with you, he'd done the right thing.

“It's this thing Mel is invited to,” he explained nervously. “All the people of high aristocracy will be there, counselors, lords and ladies... Please, can you both accompany me to it?”

“As your dance partners?” joked Viktor, frowning.

“No, Mel's already my partner. But, she said that there would be no opposition for you both to come as well. You're the,” he seemed to search for words for a moment, ”croom dé la cram?”

“Crême de la crême?” you suggested.

He pointed at you, glad you understood. “Yeah, that. La crême de la crême of the Academy. Such prestigious students as the both of you sharing the top of the board deserve to be in such an event.”

“So you want us,” you pointed repeatedly between Viktor and yourself, ”to come to this event because you're too nervous to go there by yourself?”

The interested party scratched the back of his neck, sniffling before looking at you both with puppy-dog eyes. “Yeah?”

“Aren't you supposed to have a partner to come to a masquerade?” Interrogated Viktor.

“I thought you two could... go together?”

You chuckled, your mouth hanging open. You exchanged a bewildered look with Viktor, who didn't seem to be too upset by the concept.

“You're joking, right?” you asked.

“Please just-” he didn't finish his sentence, “put your bickering aside for one evening. You don't even have to show up together if it suits you better.”

“I don't see any problems with it,” Viktor shrugged, indifferent. “When is it?”

"Tomorrow night."

“Tomorrow night?” You exclaimed. “Jayce, if it's a society gala, I've got nothing to wear.”

He reached into his own wallet, pulled out some bills and handed them to you.

“Here, I'm sure you'll find something convenient with this.”

“Jayce,” you remarked, looking at the fresh bills, “what the hell.”

“This is not much for you to get a decent gown for the gala. Keep the rest, if there is any, to get some fancy accessories.” He grabbed your hand, placing the cash in it. “Truly, this is the least I can do.”

You knew Jayce's patrons were the Kiramman’s, but to have money to give away like this? Since when was that the case?

“Vik, I think it's time for us to go.” Jayce finally remarked before leaving the room, leaving the two of you.

You both stayed in silence for a moment, both digesting the information that had just been given to you.

“What a way to celebrate your victory,” Viktor finally sighed.

“I've seen worse celebrations than a masquerade,” you remarked, observing the tickets for a moment before folding them up, “but I think I've had better experiences than being in a room with nobility sipping glasses of champagne with petty innuendo in every exchange.”

He huffed in turn. “I suppose the next area in which we must excel in no time is the art of conversation in high society. Although, considering our usual conversation,” he leaned his head to the side with a smirk, "we'll fit right in."

“How exciting,” you raised your eyebrows sarcastically, letting silence take its rule back on the room before you finally decided to break it. ”Guess I better go and find myself something to wear. See you tomorrow, Viktor.”

“Wait,” he called to you, seeming hesitant about what he was going to suggest, ”would you like us to get together first and go? Or...”

“Let's meet directly at the party,” you assured him.

He nodded, his lips pressing in a thin line as you turned away. “Oh and...” you turned back to him at his words, his eyes piercing. “Don't forget the mask.”

You nodded, leaving the room.

You had today and tomorrow to find an outfit, and get used to the fact that Viktor was no longer a threat to be eliminated. Easier said than done.

But still… What a way to celebrate a rebirth.

✦﹒ previous chapter ✦﹒ next chapter

#a crown of ink #acoi #arcane #arcane viktor #viktor arcane #viktor #arcane viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #viktor x reader #viktor x you #viktor fic #viktor fanfic #arcane fanfic #arcane x reader

452 notes · View notes

rashomonss · 1 year ago

Note

I couldn't stop thinking about this after reading your "Readjusting" hc

Imagine that the reason MC started acting like a "proper" attendant was because Barbatos couldn't stand how improper and casual Mc was with the brothers. He decides to take her under his wing but he isn't gentle about it, not even when it becomes clear that MC is human, on the contraire, he becomes harsher with his methods until even the brothers notice. Meanwhile MC could be in the state of mind to believe that they deserve to be treated in such ways because they feel guilty over letting everyone assume they were a demon

Also think about how this treatment would affect MC relationship with Barbatos. Imagine MC slipping up in front of him and immediately tensing and starting to apologize. How scared MC would be of even the thought of doing something NB!Barbatos though them was wrong and undignified of her to do/say as the brothers attendant.

And how heartbroken OM!Barbatos would be at seeing MC be so terrified of him.

so I’m currently deep diving thru my drafts and inbox and this was from forever ago so I’m so sorry I’m only getting it done now (,,Ծ‸Ծ,, )

anyway oh. my. god.

i absolutely love this idea! the angst potential this ask has is literally to die for. i’ll be incorporating a few of my readjusting ideas as well and yeah i know nightbringer didn’t go in this direction but im going in it anyway, so i hope yall enjoy! (๑>؂•̀๑)

you’re nothing more and nothing less

You admired yourself in the mirror then stared at the reflection looking back at you.

Sighing you gave yourself a small smile, then remembered his words before giving yourself one last look in the mirror.

“You really do look decent when you know how to clean up.”

An attendant is supposed to look sharp, and presentable no matter the circumstance. They are a direct representation of who they’re serving. How was a noble demon supposed to take the seven rulers of hell seriously if their attendant didn’t even know how to properly dress or present themselves?

Your tie had to be perfectly crisp and presentable, same with the cuffs of your uniform; not a wrinkle should be present. Next, your preferred uniform bottom was ironed with no wrinkle in sight, and your shoes shined to the point you could see your reflection. Each plead and fold was sharp, crisp, and perfect.

Your hair looked presentable and you carried out your normal face routine making sure you looked awake and ready for the day. Finally, you organized your belongings and sat them by your table in a neat fashion ready to be grabbed once you headed off to RAD.

You then made your way to the kitchen and prepared breakfast for everyone as well as coffee and tea for those who usually required it.

As you were finishing up most of the food Beel walked into the kitchen heading straight for the fridge. “Morning MC,” he said catching his breath.

“Good Morning Beel, how was your run? Also, your snack is on the counter so please refrain from eating anything in the fridge,” you replied, as you continued cooking.

“Oh thank you.” he smiled while closing the fridge. As he sat at the counter watching you cook he couldn’t help but become confused at the sight. “Wasn’t it Levi’s turn to make breakfast this morning?”

“It was but he stayed up late last night, and I had a feeling he would oversleep so I took the liberty of making it myself. Not to worry though because I have nothing against cooking for all of you”

Beel frowned in response “Yeah but this is the third day in a row you’ve prepared breakfast and dinner”

“Is it now? Well I have no problems with it unless the rest of you do, I am your attendant after all.”

Beel stopped eating and frowned again, “MC you’re an exchange student from the human realm. You’re back home; there’s no reason for you to still act as our attendant.”

You didn’t respond, instead you finished up the food and began to plate each brothers breakfast. Beel tried to speak again but you cut him off.

“Apologies but could you do me a favor and wake up your brothers for breakfast? I wouldn’t want them to be late for classes.”

Beel gave you a sympathetic look and nodded just before leaving the kitchen.

You did stop to think about his words though. After all everything that happened in the past didn’t need to be continued in the present, you could go back to living how you normally did before.

The only problem was that you didn’t know how to go back to that carefree lifestyle. After being on edge constantly while being stuck in the past you found yourself adapting to that lifestyle. So breaking it all of a sudden was much harder than everyone understood.

Humans are adaptable creatures, they adapt and survive to whatever environment they are thrown into, no matter the circumstances; at least that’s how he explained it.

He drilled it into your head that if you wanted to survive against the best of the best you needed to be superior in every way. It didn’t matter to him if you were a demon or human, neither was an acceptable excuse for not being absolutely perfect.

This mindset had been engraved into your soul during the small time period you were there, so for everyone to just tell you to forget about it was something you couldn’t do even if you tried. They all needed to accept that this was how you were now; and maybe with due time you’ll revert back to your old self.

Numerous voices could be heard in the dining room causing you to snap out of your thoughts. You sighed and then took a deep breath before walking into the room with everyone’s plates.

“Good morning everyone, how’s are all of you?” You asked placing plates in front of each brother at the table.

“Mornin’ MC, I’m fine how are ya?” Mammon said yawning.

“I’m good thank you for asking, but I would be even better if you fixed your tie and shirt” you smiled, placing his food in front of him.

“Dah you sound like Lucifer…” he groaned. It did work however because he buttoned up his shirt and tightened his tie before eating, to which you smiled at him in response.

“That goes for all of you as well, fix your uniforms please.” you said, placing the last plate in Lucifer’s spot. Each groaned and fixed themselves as well before they began to eat.

A laugh was then heard from the doorway which made you look up in response. The oldest then greeted you with a kiss to the cheek before sitting down.

“I see your keeping them on a tighter leash than I am.” Lucifer said looked up at you.

“Well of course. How is anyone supposed to take the seven of you seriously when you don’t even wear the uniform properly.” The room fell silent and Lucifer raised an eyebrow. “Thank you MC, but you realize that you don’t have to worry about our images anymore. You know your home correct..? You don’t have to continue being our attendant.”

You sighed then spoke after a few minutes. “Thank you for your concern I appreciate it, but if you’ll excuse me I have to get the dishes clean”

“Wait you’re not having breakfast with us dear?” Asmo asked worried.

“You haven’t eaten with us at all since you came back. Come on MC, please?” Satan then said.

“I appreciate the concern but I already ate. Thank you for the offer though, I do appreciate it. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

“As their attendant you should not be eating with them unless permitted on a special occasion. It’s basic etiquette as a servant to eat in the kitchen. So you will eat when I eat. Understand?”

That phrase popped in you head again and you sighed heading towards the kitchen.

. . .

The walk to RAD was normal, for you at least, the brothers were a different story entirely.

They tried engaging with you or even walking next to you but you stayed silent and walked behind them.

Normally you’d walk at the same pace and would engage in any kind of small talk but ever since you returned walks to a from RAD had been awkward for the brothers.

Barbatos never walked next to Diavolo, and he taught you to do the same with the brothers.

“You aren’t from the same status, so you should take your place behind them as a result.”

That phrase played in your head as Mammon talked to you about his latest new scheme. You realized that he was walking at the same pace you were so you slowed down ever so slight and engaged in a bit of small talk with him.

The second born frowned as he saw you retreating again, so with a sigh he finished talking and walked a bit faster to catch up with the eldest.

You could see them shorting you glances and whispering to each other but neither said a word to you.

You understood they probably weren’t a fan of this behavior either, but it’s not as if you could break it anytime soon, after all what would he think if you were acting casual with everyone again?

. . .

“Good morning MC” Barbatos spoke, smiling as he slightly waved at you.

Upon seeing him your posture straightened up and you immediately greeted him back with a wave and a nod, in the same fashion he greeted you with. You held eye contact for a brief moment then looked over towards Lucifer.

“I believe we should head out now. There’s paperwork to be done. It was lovely running into you but we’ll be on our way now” you said to the butler.

Before he even had a chance to respond you grabbed Lucifer and dragged him through the hall leaving a confused Barbatos alone in the hallway.

Lucifer tried to question you about your behavior towards the butler but you always avoided talking about it.

Diavolo tried his hand as well and you had given him the same excuse you gave Lucifer. Sighing, the two decided to talk to you over tea instead, hoping that it might calm the mood.

So you followed Lucifer into the council room where Diavolo sat, waiting with a smile. The minute you saw him you smiled back, but soon tensed when Barbatos appeared behind him.

“Sit down MC” Diavolo gestured as soon as you reached the table.

You bowed slightly and did as you were told, making sure to keep yourself in line while Barbatos was present.

Barbatos from the past despised when you were casual with Lord Diavolo and shut down your relationship with him the second he took you as an apprentice.

As Diavolo began to speak you listened attentively and sat up straight making sure to hold eye contact just as Barbatos had instructed you to do before

“MC…” he started. “I understand that it's taken you awhile to try and readjust to everything again, and while we don’t want to pester your progress we do want to talk to you about a few things.”

Were you in trouble? Your heart sank to your stomach as you gripped your uniform bottoms under the table.

“What can I help you with then?” You asked.

“Well for starters you needn’t be so tense, we’re close after all! It’s okay to let loose around us” Diavolo smiled as he gestured towards Lucifer who nodded in response.

“I thank you for your concern, and I will try to relax as you asked” you then nodded.

Your formal response tugged at a frown on Diavolo’s face. “Thank you, now then let’s enjoy some tea.” he said, trying to quickly change the subject.

You froze on the spot as Barbatos brought out the cart of tea and a few snacks. Immediately you jumped up and helped him set the table, much to everyone’s surprise.

“MC, you can leave it to me.” Barbatos said after a moment.

“I understand” you nodded yet still continued picking up the tray of snacks and placing plates in front of Lucifer and Diavolo.

After you finished you stepped behind Barbatos, almost as if you were his shadow. With a sigh he turned to you and tried to ask you to sit back down but you refused.

So instead he tried to guide you to your seat and you stepped away from him in response, the further you took a step back the closer he took a step forward. It wasn’t until you hit the snack cart had you realized how close the two of you were.

However that was short lived as the dish holding the sugar fell off the cart and shattered on the floor the moment you hit it.

Your eyes went wide in horror and you fell to the floor to clean it up in an instant, muttering to yourself silently.

“MC, are you-“

“I’m so sorry, Lord Diavolo, I'll clean this up right away. Please forgive me” you said swiftly picking up the shattered glass and trying your best to clean everything.

“It’s okay, don’t worry it was an accident” Diavolo said as he got up to make sure you were okay.

You shook your head as you went back to cleaning. You were positive Barbatos was going to kill you, he made sure to let you know if you ever messed up in Lord Diavolo’s presence.

So when his figure loomed over you your body tensed with fear as you looked up at him. However his expression didn’t match what you assumed it would’ve been.

He looked concerned and bent down to inspect your hands, hoping there wasn’t any blood due to the shards of glass from the dish.

You immediately retracted your hand when you noticed a cut and Barbatos stiffened.

“I’ll clean this up right away, excuse me” you said as you jumped to your feet and ran out of the council room, leaving three very confused and concerned demons behind.

As the door flew open when you left Solomon walked in with a bewildered look as you rushed out. “What happened? Is everything okay?” He asked as his eyes followed your figure rushing down the hall.

“It’s MC,” Lucifer sighed.

“What about them?” Solomon questioned.

“Long story short they were helping Barbatos and dropped the sugar then bolted out of the room in a panic when Barbatos grabbed their hand to see if they were okay.” Diavolo said with a sigh.

“Ah, that explains things then.” Solomon nodded. “And Barbatos I would refrain from touching or even being near MC for the time being”

“And why is that?” Barbatos questioned with a frown.

“Because MC is probably still on edge after serving alongside you in the past. Let’s just say your methods weren’t exactly…ideal, for a human.” He sighed.

His heart broke upon hearing those words. Barbatos frowned upon learning he was the reason for their rigid behavior and unwillingness to open up to him or Lord Diavolo again.

“I understand,” he sighed.

“If we just talk to MC I’m sure they’ll understand-“ Diavolo started.

“You can, but they haven’t changed their behavior with the brothers so I doubt they change it now. I’ll talk to them when I see them again” Solomon sighed.

Lucifer made a sour expression upon hearing Solomon’s words, mainly because he knew they were true. After all he had spoken to MC countless times yet nothing has changed.

Solomon handed a few papers to Diavolo who read over them in surprise. “Cocytus Hall? That place hasn’t been used in ages, and you wish to move in there?”

“Yes, well Mc and I.” He nodded. “All the paperwork should be there if you’ll allow it”

Lucifer shot the sorcerer a glare and shook his head. “Is that really necessary? That’s quite the opposite of having MC adapt back to the present”

“On the contrary I didn’t suggest this. They did, and if it's what they want I don’t mind indulging my sweet apprentice” He smiled.

The three frowned at Solomon’s words. No matter how annoyed he made them, they all agreed that he was the only one you talked to like normal.

It wasn’t fair that he was the only one that got that attention from you. After a few more minutes of going back and forth Diavolo finally approved the idea, much to Lucifer’s protests.

It was just a thought but Diavolo hoped that if he did this you would eventually come back to them, and not the you that was terrified and uptight, he missed the carefree human who could brighten up the room.

With a sigh the room fell silent as Solomon left, all three demons were running out of ideas and the longer you avoided them the more painful it had become.

How long were they supposed to stay like this? They all wondered with tense sighs.

#obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me #omswd #omnb #obey me nightbringer angst #obey me angst #obey me barbatos #demon brothers #obey me luficer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me solomon

1K notes · View notes

msgexymunson · 1 year ago

Text

Dr E. Munson, D.D.S

Description: praise from your dentist is the last thing you thought would stoke your passions. During another meeting, intoxicated after surgery, you accidently tell him how he makes you feel.

Warnings: Fluff, angst and smut, my favourite trio. NSFW Minors DNI, reader mid 20s and Eddie mid to late 30s but not explicitly stated, no real time given implied 90s but written as open, reader is AFAB, no use of Y/N, tooth extraction (don’t worry it's not gory), little to no knowledge of the dental industry (please don't come for me I tried my best), fem oral receiving, overstimulation, massive praise kink, p in v protected sex.

A/N: Well, the tale of my praise kink being activated at the dentist appears to have struck a chord with you all, so as unbelievable as this is, just go with it. Eddie's a dentist. Not just a dentist, but a soft pleasure dom dentist ;) I tried to make it believable!! Also, I can't write short fics anymore. I gotta get elaborate before I get into the good ole porn.

🖤 Comments and reblogs are my lifeblood, please reblog if you want me to keep writing, it really makes my day sweethearts. 🖤

8.8K words

Masterlist

Fidgeting restlessly with your rings, your leg shakes compulsively as you sit in the sterile waiting room. You really wish you didn't have to go through this alone, but your best friend Alex is working and you are far too old to be going to the dentist with your mom.

Needs must, though. Yesterday, whilst you were eating one of your nieces candy suckers of all things, you bit down and shattered a wisdom tooth. Just thinking about it you can see Dr Burke's stern face, with his ridiculously bushy eyebrows and wrinkled frown, telling you off for eating too much sugar.

When the perky receptionist calls your name and instructs you to go to room 2, you're a wobbling bubble of nerves. Walking over the cheap linoleum on click clack heels, you pause for a moment outside the door in confusion.

The little plaque on the wooden door is different. It used to hold old Dr Burke's name on it, but it's changed.

Dr E. Munson, D.D.S.

Swinging the door open, you see a much younger man sitting on a swivel stool looking over some notes. His hair is long and wavy, so long he's scraped it into a low ponytail, and there's a sprinkle of stubble over his face. As he looks up, you're met with the deepest, most soulful brown eyes you've ever seen. And is that, an eyebrow piercing? He flashes a grin, one filled with such mischief that for a second you forget why you're here.

“Well hello! You must be my next patient. Take a seat right here.”

He pats the treatment chair but you still stand gormlessly by the door.

“You're not Dr Burke.”

Well done idiot, state the obvious.

“Seems your eyesights OK.”

He shoots a wink at you which immediately turns your insides to jello.

“Dr Burke retired actually. I'm Dr Munson, I just moved to the city. You can call me Eddie.”

He extends a hand out to you. Shuffling forward in your pencil skirt you click your way over to him and take his hand. It's huge, enveloping your own, but he holds your hand with care and shakes it very gently.

He lets go to wash his hands and put a pair of latex gloves on.

“You know you don't have to dress up to go to the dentist, but it's appreciated.”

Is he flirting with me?

“I-I was at work this morning.”

You perch on the seat and pull your legs up, sliding your handbag to the floor.

“So, what seems to be the problem?”

“I was, well…”

“It's OK sweetheart, I ain't gonna tell you off.”

Sweetheart? Oh Holy Shit.

You found yourself clenching your toes in your heels. This guy is far too hot to be a dentist.

“I was eating a sucker and I, well, I bit down, broke my back right wisdom tooth. It shattered.”

He scoots his stool towards you and instructs you to open your mouth. As he examines you he hums, feeling inside your mouth with a gloved hand.

“Yup, that's broken up alright. I'm sorry, that must be painful. Don't worry, I'll do my best to help. I'm gonna do an x-ray, that OK?”

“Yeah.”

Pulling a little plastic T instrument from his desk, he wheels back over.

“Now, this is going to be uncomfortable, and I'm real sorry. Open your mouth and I'll slide it in gently.”

Face flickering a violent shade of red, you nod. Surely he's aware of how this sounds?

“OK, open wide, that's it.”

He puts the little contraption in your mouth.

“OK, now bite down. I know, it's uncomfortable. It'll just take a second. That's it, just breathe for me.”

It's not intolerable but it's not exactly nice. A moment before it would have been too much he takes it out.

“That's it, did so good for me. Well done sweetheart.”

Now, this is not the fucking time to have these sorts of feelings. A heat had started spreading between your legs that you haven't felt for quite some time.

“Hmm,” Eddie said as he looked at the x-ray, “I definitely need to remove those pieces. I'm a bit concerned about the tooth above it. That's got a cavity, it'll need to be removed, but it'll need surgery I'm sorry to say.”

“Surgery? Oh God.”

“Hey, it'll be alright. I'd do it now but it's too risky. Never had to go into surgery before?”

Laughing nervously, you fiddle with your fingers.

“I've never had a tooth removed! I'm a tooth removal virgin.”

The words just flew out and there was nothing you could do to pull them back. Eddie leaned in a little, a cheeky glint in his eye.

“Well, then I'll be extra gentle.”

A stare that's a fraction too long, and he scoots back over to his desk. Not long after he's got a needle in his hand.

“Now, I'm gonna need to numb the area, and this is going to be painful. But once this is done, that's the worst of it. If you need me to stop at any point, you just raise your hand. That OK?”

“Sure, do what you need to.”

“Atta girl, so brave for me. Open your mouth wide.”

My good God this man and his words; you can picture yourself on your knees in front of him as he says the same things.

Atta girl, take it a little deeper, that's it, so good for me…

Squirming hotly in your seat, you do as instructed and his gloved fingers invade your mouth once more.

“OK, you're gonna feel a sharp scratch, it'll go on for a few seconds, doing it now… good girl.”

As he says ‘good girl’ two things happen. He injects your gum, and you flood your panties. The pain is inconsequential at this point, you just want him to keep talking to you like that.

“OK, one more sweetheart… that's it, so brave, look at you, taking it so well.”

He stares at you with those soft brown eyes and once again you forget entirely why you're here.

“Now, you should start to feel your lips tingle, it'll mean it's working.”

Your dirty mind can't help but think; which lips?

As a numbness invades your mouth, you let him know.

“Yeah, it's definitely working.”

“Good stuff. Now, I'm gonna feel in your mouth again, OK?”

You nod, beyond words, and he puts his fingers in your mouth.

“Now, if you need me to stop, what do you do?”

Sheepishly you hold your hand up.

“That's it, atta girl. Such a good listener.”

Nothing you can do but beam inwardly at the praise.

��Now, you can feel me right here, but there should be no pain, yeah?”

Resisting the urge to moan around his fingers, you make a sound akin to a muffled ‘uhuh’.

“Awesome, now just hold still, you'll hear some crunching and feel pressure, and then it'll be done.”

As he pulls a shiny implement from a tray and starts working the tooth shards from your mouth, you focus on his forehead, at the look of total concentration. How the lines on his forehead furrow. How his beautiful eyes harden slightly. How his perfect pink tongue dips out…

“All done.”

“Huh?”

He laughs, a rich, bubbling thing, and nods.

“Yup. You're good. Need to make an appointment at the desk for the other tooth though.”

“Will you be doing that?”

It rushes out in a blather which you can't control.

“Sure thing sweetheart. Just ask at the desk for me.”

“OK. Thanks.”

“Not a problem. Got to be there for my favourite patient.”

He flashes another wink at you which seems to rush straight to your knees as you get up and leave on newborn foal legs. Reaching the door, you hear his voice ring out behind you.

“And what should we do with suckers next time?”

Turning to face him, he raises an eyebrow, awaiting your response with the most serious expression he's given you so far.

“I should… suck?”

“Yeah you should.”

A mind altering grin later and he's turning back to his desk.

I should suck? What the hell is wrong with you! You need to get laid like, yesterday.

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

It's a couple of weeks later and you're laying in the most unflattering hospital gown known to man with your best friend Alex who is trying to distract you.

“Honey, you'll be fine, they're putting you under! It's like, free drugs!”

You laugh at his antics, smiling with nerves.

“It's not the surgery, its-”

You hear mumbling in the doorway, two nurses gossiping in what they must think is out of earshot.

“Did you hear? Dr Munsons performing the surgery?”

“Yeah, he's not even supposed to be here. I hear Dr Stevens is pissed.”

As they walk away, continuing their whispering, you look over to Alex who is smirking at you.

“Oh, so he's not even supposed to be here? Ooh he likes you!”

You blush, thinking about the other day.

“No! I… I asked for him, that's all. You know I don't like this sort of shit.”

“Ah, so you thought Dr Dreamy would make it bearable huh?”

“Shut up!”

Dr Munson walks in then, smiling that smile that held a firm grip on your panties. Alex's eyes widen as he mouths the word ‘hot’ to you. You subtly nod your agreement and then smile at Eddie.

“Well, fancy seeing you here.”

“Couldn't stay away,” you respond, rolling your eyes. He chuckles back and looks you up and down.

“I told you sweetheart, no need to get dressed up for me.”

“What, this old thing?”

You share a laugh whilst Alex's eyebrows raise practically through the roof. This is clearly crossing some line, this banter between you, but he's the doctor and he started it.

Soon, the procedure has been explained and they're wheeling you out of there and putting you under anaesthesia.

“OK, good job, such a brave girl. Now, countdown from ten for me.”

“Ten, nine, eight…”

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

Blinking bleary-eyed, you look around and catch the eye of your friend.

“She's awake! You OK?”

You are OK. In fact, you're fantastic.

“I'm great! M'I goin’ in surgery now?”

“You've been, it's done! It's all fine.”

“Huh?”

A fantastically handsome man walks in, entirely distracting you. Long hair, sparkling eyes, a gorgeous smile, and a slender tall frame. He's so hot. Wait, you can just say he's hot, right?

“Wow, wh'ryou? You're suuuper hot.”

He laughs, looking a little embarrassed.

“I'm Dr Munson, remember? Eddie. The er, drugs will wear off soon.”

“Eddie!”

You sit up immediately, despite the hands that shoot out to keep you still.

“Now, take it easy, the ketamine makes people act a little funny. How are you feeling?”

“M’great! All… floaty like. S’good shit.”

Eddie laughs as Alex holds his head in his hands.

“Good to hear. It'll wear off soon, I'm sure your boyfriend will take good care of you.”

“Nooo he's n’my’boyfrien’. He's suuuper gay. Ya’single? I no’had- not had any for nine months!”

Alex pipes up.

“Honey, you know I love you, so much, but you need to shut your mouth.”

Eddie laughs, flashing his perfect teeth.

“He's got a point. Glad you're doing good, the surgery went smoothly, so you'll be good to go in a few minutes.”

“Thank's'much Eddie. God, you're s’gorgeous. Did I do good?”

Eddie looks like he wants to be anywhere but here.

“Course you did. The best. That's why you're my favourite patient.”

Holding your hand up to your mouth and doing the worst stage whisper known to man, you look at Alex.

“See? Tol’ ya, his wors’ make me wet.”

“...aaaand that's the line. Thanks for taking care of her Dr Munson, I'll get her home safe.”

With protests from you, Eddie shuffles awkwardly out of the room. After a little while you're discharged, with Alex promising to look after you until you're back to normal.

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

The strong coffee aroma assaults your nostrils; you take a massive inhale of your cup as if the caffeine could be absorbed by smell alone. The coffee shop was busy this Saturday morning but you'd managed to carve out your little comfy seat and tiny table so you can work on your writing. It was a relief after the busy week you've had to actually focus on something you love.

The noises and chatter of the place wash over you as you zone out, thinking of how to handle the plot twist coming up. It needed to be thoughtful, but unforced, as if the characters…

“Well, if it isn't my favourite patient.”

“Huh?”

You look up and see a very familiar pair of eyes. Eddie. The rest of him however, looks very different.

Eddie's in an old Iron Maiden t-shirt, worn with age, and tight black jeans. A chain hangs low at his hip, and his large hands are adorned with silver rings. His hair is loose and unkept around his shoulders, but his signature smile still beams at you. His forearms are on display, covered in tattoos. It's certainly not what you were expecting. How did he just get even hotter?

Remembering what Alex told you about how you made an utter fool of yourself brings you out of your revelry. The stuff you said to him after surgery makes you visibly cringe. You were torn between wanting to ask him out and wanting the ground to swallow you whole.

Cheeks blazing with heat, you find your voice.

“Eddie! Er, hi.”

“You mind if I sit here? It's pretty packed.”

Gesturing at him to make himself comfortable, he swings his leg over the stool opposite and sits down, mug of steaming coffee in his hands.

“What brings you here?”

“Well, I write. As a hobby, you know? Needed to get out of the house and get some done. And you?”

He points a thick finger across the street and you gulp in your throat, remembering the feel of those fingers in your mouth.

“There's a record store across the way, I was scouting for anything I've missed. Unlucky today it seems.”

It was weird seeing him here. Like when you see a teacher in the wild. Except you're not a kid, and the teacher is fucking fine.

You nod and share a very uncomfortable silence.

“Listen, I'm sorry for anything I said-”

“Hey, don't worry about it sweetheart, it was the drugs. Trust me I've heard some weird shit!”

He seems to shrug it off and you breathe a sigh of relief. The last few weeks all you've managed to think about is how much of a fool you've made of yourself. Hopefully he's chalked it all up to the drugs. No need for him to know you were speaking the truth.

“I gotta say, you don't look like a dentist.”

Eddie laughs, a perfect deep laugh that has you squirming in your seat.

“Yeah, I get that alot. I er, used to get beat up when I was a kid. I got punched real hard once, broke my jaw. It was wired shut for like six weeks. After that, well, you find some respect for dentistry. Thought I'd give it a shot, went to school. Seems I have a knack for it. I have an impeccable bedside manner, apparently. Or so I'm told.”

I'll say.

“I can- I can see that.”

He blazes a grin at you that damn near combusts your insides. And that's what you blame for the thing that's about to fall out of your big mouth.

“Listen, I know this is crazy but can I have your number?”

What the fuck are you doing?? Hitting on your dentist?

It seems your word vomit was indeed something that happened in real life and not just in your head. Eddie looks pained as he warms his hands on his coffee mug.

“Listen, sweetheart, you're a very pretty girl but… I can't. It'd be wrong of me, you're my patient and-”

“No, I get it, it was dumb, ignore me.”

You grab your belongings at the speed of lightning and stuff everything into your bag.

“Hey, sweetheart, wait, I literally ca-”

Hell no.

You've made more of an idiot of yourself than you're prepared to be comfortable with. Now, cheeks burning hotly you shoulder your heavy bag and bustle out of the store, leaving an open mouthed Eddie sitting there with his arm outstretched.

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

Today was the cherry on top of the icing on top of the cake of embarrassment. You've never asked a guy for his number before and the first time you do you're shot down? Confidence well and truly knocked, you called around and found a new dentist, and then called your old dentist's office to let them know. There was no way you could face Eddie again after you'd made a fool of yourself three times.

In an effort to cheer yourself up after that disastrous rendezvous, you'd dressed up, put on your highest heels paired with your shortest skirt and a red silk blouse, and went out for a night on the town.

Now, you don't make a habit of sitting at the bar on your own. You've dealt with enough creeps in your time to know that it was a bad idea. However, when it comes to your friends, you can give a little leeway.

Hence why you sat in your very short black skirt, heels tapping on the little rail on the bottom of the bar as you sip your Manhattan, watching your friend Alex out the corner of your eye have a make-out session with his new boyfriend. They were sitting at a table just to the right; you were on a barstool giving them a couple feet of privacy.

It was getting a little old though. In the past half an hour three men had approached you. You can't lie to yourself, it was the reason you'd agreed to be a third wheel in the first place. Trying to manifest the right kind of man clearly wasn't working however.

The first guy looked around twelve, with the wispiest facial hair you've ever seen. As he'd nervously bumbled a line at you, you told him you've never seen a theoretical moustache before. That saw the back of him. Contestant number two was the sleaziest douchebag in the whole bar, perhaps the entire city. He was the hardest to deal with; you'd ended up just turning away and ignoring him until he'd left. Number three was some balding, middle aged man with a pot belly and a stained tie. Exhausted by the previous two, you interrupted his practised line with one clear and concise ‘No’.

Almost certain that your date tonight would involve you with your vibrator, you order another cocktail. On your left directly next to you a guy starts leaning on the bar and calls to the bartender.

“Hey Jack, can I get a beer please, and whatever this lovely girl is drinking.”

Rolling your eyes and turning to look at contestant number four, ready to tell them to fuck right off, you realise its Eddie. Of course it fucking is. The universe seems to have a horrible sense of humour today. He's still in his jeans and boots, but now sporting a burgundy shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Stupid dentist and his stupid hot tattooed forearms.

“Are you following me? I don't need a pity drink thanks, I'm good.”

You reach into your purse to pay for the drink you ordered but Eddie already has cash in his hand. He pays for it anyway and leans on the bar facing you.

“It's not pity, it's an apology for earlier. And I think you're the one following me, I live two floors up.”

Lips pressed into a firm line, you stir your drink with its cocktail stick and pretend that dentists don't exist.

“You can't just ignore me, you know.”

Taking a sip of your drink you continue to stare resolutely forward.

“OK, you can just ignore me, but I'd like it if you didn't.”

Another sip, and you pull the little cherry off its stick and chew it.

“So, you got a thing for dentists or is it just me, sweetheart?”

That's it, you turn angrily to face him and scowl.

“That's totally unfair you can't just-”

“Ha, got ya talking.”

He's grinning at his little victory, laughter lines creasing near his eyes. If your eyes could shoot daggers you're sure he would have died from blood loss at this point.

“Listen, I'm sorry, OK? I would have said yes in a fucking heartbeat, but I could lose my license.”

Your eyes soften; he's clearly telling the truth and it does make sense. His licence hadn't even entered your mind.

“I understand. Sorry for being rough on you.”

“Don't worry about it. I just thought I better clear the air if I'm gonna be your dentist.”

“Oh, don't worry about it. You're not.”

“Huh?”

Looking down at the bar and drawing circles in the condensation from your drink with a finger, you explain.

“I couldn't face seeing you again, so I, ha, ran off to a different dentist. It's a half hour out of my way, but never mind.”

Eddie's posture changes immediately, standing fully to attention.

“You're not my patient anymore?”

“Nope,” you reply, and knock back the last of your drink, “I'm not.”

“You're not my patient anymore.”

You risk looking back at him; he's wide eyed, nodding in your direction, as if he's just told a joke that you didn't get. Face scrunched with confusion, you blink it away as a light bulb pings on inside your head.

“Oh. I'm not your patient anymore.”

The grin that slowly unfolds across Eddie's face is damn right sinful.

“You wanna come upstairs?”

“Hell yes.”

Leaping lightly off of the bar stool, you turn to dislodge your coat from the back of Alex's chair and wave at him frantically to tell him you're leaving. He turns to you, then Eddie, then back to you with what can only be described as A Look. If you weren't so excited you would have admonished him, but who the fuck cares.

Eddie grabs your hand firmly and pushes through the thronging crowd with you in tow. The cold night air hits you like a blow to the chest when you escape, as does your rash decision.

Eddie seems to sense your hesitation. Pulling you into a doorway he grabs your other hand and looks at you.

“Sweetheart, you know you don't have to do anything you don't want to. We can just go upstairs, have a drink, or not, and chat. Really.”

“Really?” You cock your head with the question as he licks his bottom lip with a pink tongue, dragging it to his perfect teeth to bite. He looks nervous, and for some reason, that is doing it for you right now.

“Really. I'm just saying we don't have to rush-”

The rest of his sentence is swallowed whole by your kiss as you tip your head up and push your lips against his firmly. Eddie grabs your waist with one hand, the other snaking into your hair to cradle your head.

For a moment you forget about the cold, about the fact that anyone can see you like this right now. All that matters is the pounding heat of his body smashing against yours and the passion pouring from his tongue as it swipes and rolls and fills your mouth with unexpected moans.

Nails digging into his back, as if attempting to claw under his clothes, you force his body against the wall in the wanton desire to be closer. His hand massages the silk of your blouse at your waist, warmth spreading from his palm into your very flesh and seeping down between your legs.

You'd have him, right here, against this wall, right now, if he hadn't pulled your head back softly to break the kiss. The tips of your noses rub together as you both gasp for the same air. He's smiling and biting his lip again, but this time it looks like a distraction to stop himself from devouring you. Eddie breaks the feral spell first.

“So, just a chat, yeah?”

You both laugh, a giddy silly thing reserved for the two of you.

“Yeah, you're probably right. Don't want to rush these things.”

Nodding sagely, you take his proffered hand and let him lead you inside and up the stairs.

You're not sure what you expect his place to look like, but you're pleasantly surprised at how open and spacious it is. Hardwood floors, big windows, a big black sofa, and an open kitchen area with a little breakfast bar. There's a wall of shelves with what must be hundreds of records, CDs and tapes on it, all neatly organised and displayed, and an expensive looking sound system. Two guitars sit by the couch as if they'd been played recently, along with an amp that seems to be doubling as a side table. There's a small pile of boxes over by one wall that have yet to be unpacked. And that's it.

No wonder it looks so spacious, there's nothing in it.

“Eddie, it's a great place, but er, where's all your stuff?”

He looks a little sheepish as he flicks a standing lamp on and shuts the curtains.

“Yeah. Got the basics sorted; kitchen, bedroom, music. Honestly, never lived anywhere this big before, and my last place came furnished.”

He gestures widely at the sofa with a swing of his arm and you perch on it, ankles crossed, fully aware of how short your skirt is.

“So, you wanna drink? Unfortunately I can't make a Manhattan but I’ve got rum, some vodka, sodas, maybe a beer?”

“What do you mean you can't make a Manhattan? What sort of establishment is this?”

You huff dramatically, folding your arms.

“I'm terribly sorry Ma’am, I shall have a word with the management.”

Eddie falls to one knee in a low bow, a mock plea for your forgiveness and the sheer goofiness makes your heart do a little hop inside your chest.

“What can I possibly do to make it up to you?”

His eyes are open, honest and sincere. But the grin fighting to crawl over his face is naughtiness personified.

“Well I shall have a beer now, and maybe you can make it up to me later?”

Smirking, he presses a soft kiss to your knee, then another, to the side of it. Letting his teeth drag further he playfully nips at the outside of your thigh and smooths the area with a lick.

Breathe. Remember, you need oxygen to live.

You take a harsh, ragged breath in as if inhaling for the first time and try to concentrate on slowing your heart rate. This is madness, you feel wrecked from a sprinkling of kisses.

Feeling Eddie's soft chuckle as the air from it dances on your thigh, he gets back up looking far too pleased with himself.

“You know, you shouldn't be that forward with a lady.”

Throwing his head back and laughing loudly he walks around the back of the couch. Directly behind you, he begins talking again.

“I don't see a lady here.”

Whipping your head around to reprimand him, he bends to your level and whispers in your exposed ear.

“I see a very good girl.”

Words die in your throat having never reached your tongue. There's no witty repartee, just an odd noise that blurts out of you, halfway between a whimper and a squeak.

Eddie walks away towards the fridge to grab your drink, no doubt with a very smug look on his face. In his absence you fan yourself to try to quench some of the raging heat within, but at this point it's like throwing a water bomb at a house fire. Undoing one button on your blouse, you let the girls have a little air at least.

He returns, drinks in hand, and offers one to you with a bow of his head.

“Milady.”

You take it and sip as Eddie sits next to you.

“I thought I wasn't a lady?”

“You are right, absolutely right,” he responds, shuffling closer to put an arm around you, and nuzzles your neck teasingly, “and I am not a gentleman.”

You reach out to the side, and realise there's nowhere to put your beer.

“Eddie, you need a coffee table or something.”

“Just, put it on the floor.”

Placing it gently on the floor, wincing as you do so, you mumble half to yourself, “if my mother could see me now…”

“I'm sure she'd have more important things to say than about the lack of coasters, sweetheart.”

“You have a very good point.”

Eddie holds your jaw, softly turning your face to his own, and presses a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw, and finally to your lips. It's more gentle than the searing heat of the last one; a languid spell of tongues finding their way against each other.

As you both break away, Eddie strokes your bare thigh, whispering in your ear as he does so.

“God, when you walked in my office, I thought I might have to switch professions. I just wanted to hike that tight skirt up and bury my face right here.”

His hand moves up your leg, a finger ghosting over the top of your panties that makes a shiver work all its way to the tips of your toes. It's a bold move, and one you wouldn't stand for usually, but this is Eddie. You've been fantasising about this for the last two months. Hell, this scene has played in your brain so long it was almost like it didn't feel like the first time.

So, if he's going to be that bold, then bold it is.

“Well, I gotta confess, it took a lot for me to not moan around your fingers in my mouth.”

Eddie groans loud, throwing his head against the back of the couch.

“Fuck that's so hot. C'mere.”

He's coaxing you into his lap and you follow his lead, swinging your leg across him and most likely giving him a choice view of your lacy underwear. His large hands wander over your frame, mapping out your curves with his eyes as well as his fingers.

“Eddie.”

You breathe it out, your hands resting on his shoulders. He's getting hard beneath you, you can feel it as your hips start to move back and forth of their own accord.

“Hmm?”

He doesn't look up, busy stroking your sides, thumb brushing your breasts with each pass. Every nerve feels like a live wire, feeling more needy than you think you've ever been.

“Eddie, please, just kiss me.”

“No.”

“No?”

He does look at you then, giving you a cheeky smile.

“I think I've got the hottest girl in the city on my lap right now, let me savour it a little.”

Rolling your eyes, you reach to the front of your blouse and start unbuttoning it slowly, letting the silky fabric fall off your shoulders and away. The fates seem to be in your favour for once; this is your best bra, adorned in satin and black lace.

“Well, someone's eager. Were you looking to get lucky tonight?”

Eddie says as he smirks at you, a hand stroking up, over your laced covered chest, coming to rest on the side of your throat.

“It's been a while Eddie, forgive me for being keen.”

“Oh yeah, what was it? Nine months, right?”

Cringing at his words whilst he chuckles, you rest your forehead on his shoulder to hide your face.

“Technically no.” It's muffled into the fabric of his shirt.

“No?”

Still unwilling to look at him, you reply, “that was a few weeks ago. It's ten now.”

Pulling you upright again, he playfully pouts, a little mocking face that's making your insides pulse.

“Aw, poor, poor baby. Guess I shouldn't tease so much. Why don't you take this ridiculous skirt off and sit for me sweetheart.”

It's comical how quickly you follow his directions, shuffling your skirt off and laying back on the sofa, ass near the edge, as he drops to his knees on the floor in front of you.

“That's it, right there. Such a good listener.”

As he runs his hands up the inside of your thighs, you spread your legs to make room for him, breath quickening in anticipation.

“I suppose I better check,” he says as he looks up at you with a serious expression, pierced eyebrow arching.

“Check what?”

“How wet my words made you.”

‘Oh God!” you squeak, hiding in your hands, “I can't believe you remembered that!”

“Remembered it? I can't think of anything else.”

His thick rough fingertips reach higher and higher; he slips two under your panties, hooking them to one side as his digits glide through your wetness.

“Oh sweetheart, you're soaked. That must be uncomfortable. Don't worry I'm gonna do something about that.”

You're thinking of something clever to say back but your mind empties entirely as his touch moves to your clit and rubs slow, deliberate circles.

The relief of him finally stroking just where you need it has you near tears, breathy gasps pulling from your chest and rushing out your mouth.

His fingers leave you suddenly and you resist the urge to stamp your foot like an impatient toddler, fists tight at your sides. Eddie raises up on his knees, leaning toward your chest.

“I'm gonna take this off first, that OK sweetheart?”

He runs a finger between the valley of your breasts as he speaks, making your back arch into the hint of a touch.

“Y-yes.”

“Atta girl.”

He reaches behind you and flicks your bra clasp, opening it with such ease that it makes you question internally how many times he's done that before. Then, he pulls the straps down slowly and with such reverence that you forget your thoughts.

“Jesus Christ, you are just perfect aren't you.”

Solid knuckles rub gently over a pebbled nipple making you whimper and bite your lip. Leaning in, his mouth is wet and warm, almost leisurely massaging your nipple, then giving the same amount of care and attention to the other.

When his teeth graze you an unfiltered moan shoots out from you, entirely unbidden.

“Wow, you're really sensitive,” he says when he unlatches his mouth. He pinches one abruptly and you cry out, hand grasping at his bicep in pleasurable shock. Licking his lips, he grins at you.

“Oh we are gonna have a lot of fun sweetheart.”

Running a finger just under the hem of your panties, he pulls them down as you assist him, lifting your ass to give him room. He shakes his head, biting his lip as he takes all of you in with his eyes now that you're entirely exposed, as if he can’t believe his luck.

Kissing down your quivering form, he finally slips that overbold tongue of his between your folds, running it back and forth over your sensitive nub. His tongue searches you, taking care to leave no spot untouched. It's deliberate; a slow and intense exploration of your sex, as if mapping out every sweet spot, spurred on by the moans spilling from your lips with ever increasing frequency.

Each sound you make is echoed, mirrored by Eddie, as if he was taking as much enjoyment in eating you out as you were in receiving it. The build up is as slow as his movements, but that certainly isn't a bad thing. Far from it. The feeling fizzing in your very blood is deep and profound, and it keeps building.

Until Eddie does this twirling thing with his tongue that makes your eyes cross, that sets each one of your nerves on fire, fingers desperately grasping at his soft waves as you moan even louder.

“Fuck, Eddie! Right there!”

His words are muffled, a hint of amusement in them, but you're sure he says “yes ma'am.”

Then he does it again, and again, tongue twisting like it's independent from his body, swirling you into a deep pool of overwashing ecstasy. Back leaving the soft confines of the couch you clutch at his hair as your hoarse moans pound out of you, until you flop back down, a glistening panting mess.

Eddie's still kissing your delicate parts, leaving soft, almost innocent kisses. He presses his lips to your clit again and you squirm, trying to get out of his gentle, grasping hands. It's a soft touch, but his hands are immovable, like velvet wrapped around a steel bar.

“Eddie, fuck, I-I'm really sensitive-”

“Oh I know sweetheart,” he says, pressing his mouth against you over and over, “but we're not done.”

Staring at him wide eyed, he lifts one hand, ring and middle finger outstretched, and brushes the tips of them to your kiss bitten bottom lip.

“Can you get these nice and wet for me sweetheart?”

Parting your lips slightly, he slips the fingers inside and you do as instructed, licking and suckling on them, surprised by how fiercely you wanted to. They felt rough and heavy on your tongue. Eddie's staring at you with a burning admiration in his eyes, still pushing his lips to you. He suckles softly at your clit making you writhe and moan around him. As he pulls his fingers out you call to him.

“Eddie, I can't it's too much-”

“Shhh, princess, do you really want me to stop?”

A little drop of shame trickles down your throat at the thought.

“No,” you whisper.

“That's what I thought,” he says as his fingers circle your silken entrance, “be good for me sweetheart, good girls come twice.”

You're not sure if the heady moan that you release is due to his fingers slipping inside you, or his words. It could be a combination of both. Stroking at you incessantly, his fingers drive into you, perpetually caressing that soft spot inside that makes your toes curl.

Your release creeps up unsurprisingly fast. It's all force and pressure, a tightening, full feeling that's gripping your insides in its strong claws. One minute you're holding on to reality and the next, you're gone, floating away as the pressure melts and cascades from you like stardust.

Your vision unblurring, you realise what's happened when the sound of it reaches your ears. That squelching, soaking noise of Eddie's fingers working you through the last throes of your pleasure.

As you look down Eddie's staring at your dripping pussy with awe, having to pull his fingers out of you with a bit of force since you don't seem to want to let go. He sits back on his heels with a smile that could rival the Cheshire cats, absolutely coated in your juices. It's covering his face, his hand, and it's even darkened the front and sleeve of his shirt.

An apology nestles on the tip of your tongue, but it stays there when Eddie speaks.

“Atta girl, did so good for me. Fuck, I kinda want to see if you can do that again.”

Opening your mouth for a witty remark, it escapes you. Your usually sharp mind is now the consistency of spray cheese. All that comes out is a soft little noise, a cross between a hum and a thank you.

“Stay right there, I'll be back.”

You giggle a little as he runs off. Where on earth does he think you'll go? And more importantly, how?

When he returns his face and hands are clean, and crucially, he's shirtless. Lean muscle gleams in the low light, decorated with a dozen or so tattoos. He's got a cloth in one hand, and a glass of water in the other.

“Here, drink up sweetheart, you need it.”

You search for a hint of playfulness or smugness in his face and come up empty. In fact, he's staring, waiting for you to take a sip. When you do, he smiles, and goes about wiping the tops of your thighs. The cloth is even warm. You've never been given a warm cloth before, the closest being a handful of scrunched up tissues.

“Eddie, where have you been all my life?”

Laughing loudly, he sits next to you, stealing a sip of your water.

“I came as quickly as I could.”

It was a cheesy line, but you're beyond caring, a goofy grin smeared all over your face.

“Can I take you to the bedroom?”

You nod and before you can get up he's scooping you into his arms.

“Eddie, I can walk you know,” you say as you drape your arms around his neck.

“Oh I know, I just want to take care of you.”

Fuck. You could move in tomorrow.

The only things you notice about the bedroom are the soft blue of the duvet as he places you gently on top of it and the bedside lamps he flicks on that bathe the room in a warm glow. The rest doesn't matter, not right now. Your eyes are on him as he stands at the edge of the bed, looking at you as if you were a beautiful sculpture carved from the finest marble.

Getting up on your knees, you smile cheekily up at him as you hook your fingers into the worn denim and pop the top button.

“And what do you think you're doing?” He asks, hand moving up to cradle your face.

“I was going to return the favour.”

You unzip the fly and pull them down, eyes widening at the swollen bulge in his trunks. They're tight, leaving little room for the imagination, but anything you may have imagined couldn't possibly compare to the real thing.

“Not tonight sweetheart. Like I said, I want to take care of you.”

He turns to the nightstand and rummages around, pulling out a packet of condoms. It's new, you notice, as he unwraps the film and takes one out, placing it on the side whilst he rolls his underwear off.

As he's putting it on you gawp shamelessly, truly wondering if it's actually going to fit. No wonder he's so confident.

“Did you actually just turn down a blow job?”

He smiles, crawling between your legs and caging your head between his arms.

“What can I say, I'm a giver.”

He stops for a moment, knuckles stroking your cheek.

“You sure you wanna do this?”

Smiling gently, you reach down and grasp his solid member making him jolt, and rub the tip through your slick.

“Yes.”

You line him up and his smile turns into an open mouthed groan, eyebrows knitting together as he starts slipping inside of you.

“Eddie, holy- fuck.”

“You're OK sweetheart, doing such a good job for me.”

He pushes in further and you realise why all the foreplay was necessary. Clearly, he enjoyed it too, but you're not sure you could have taken him without it. When he's finally sitting flush inside you wince a little, hands tight on his shoulders.

“You feel incredible, so tight for me.”

Whimpering, you can feel your cheeks heat with the praise.

“God you really do like my words don't you?”

Grinning mischievously, he plants a soft kiss to your lips. It weirdly feels more intimate than him being inside you.

“Y-yeah, it's really sexy Eddie.”

His cock kicks up inside you, making you gasp a little.

“You're really sexy. The little sounds you make, your moans.”

As if demonstrating that, he pulls out a little and thrusts in gently, forcing a quivering sigh from you.

“See? Fucking perfect sweetheart.”

He begins rolling his hips into you, never pulling out too much, as if he couldn't stand to be any further apart.

One of his sinewy arms snakes its way underneath you, holding you close as he playfully nips your earlobe and breathing whispers into your ear.

“How many times?”

“Huh?” You respond, utterly lost in the feel of him dragging against your gripping walls.

“How many times do you want to come?”

You giggle, despite the situation, or maybe because of it.

“I don't usually, oh, get t-to choose, is there a- oh fuck- there a menu or something?”

He chuckles and slows down just slightly, pushing into you devastatingly deep.

“What's the most you've managed?”

He's so thick, and the feel of him is otherworldly; it had you wondering how it'd feel without the layer of latex between you.

“I can't- fuck- I can't think- like two?”

He stops, looking at you incredulously with a furrowed brow.

“Two? We can do better than that.”

He speeds up, leaning on one arm as his other hand finds its way down your torso and begins to rub your clit. That pulse inside you is sent into overdrive, mouth open and panting as you cling to his back, nails digging into his skin.

Your release swells inside, growing, and intensifying, until it suddenly pops, showering you in pleasure. Tears spring in the corners of your eyes as you moan out your release an inch from his face.

“Atta girl,” Eddie says as he nudges you with his nose, “do that again.”

Your clit feels a little sore, swollen and sensitive after so much pleasure. His touch is gentle, but it's still overwhelming.

“Eddie, I-I can't, please-”

“You want me to stop? I'll stop if you want that sweetheart.”

The sharp feeling begins to dull, making way for another wave of euphoria that washes over your whole body. Legs twitching uncontrollably, you whine long and low, a flood of noises bursting from you that no damn could ever stop.

“That a no, sweetheart?”

“Don't stop don't stop don’t stop - oh!”

You'd be embarrassed by the crazy noise you made as you come again, if you were even aware of it. A screeching loud moan, eyes scrunched as your body leaves the bed and your nails drag across his bare back.

“That's it, knew you could, so good for me. Fuck, nearly lost it.”

He does stop then, biting his lip to stop himself from unleashing his own orgasm as his breath comes in short huffs.

“Eddie, you don't have to- ohmygod!”

The last of your sentence evaporates on your tongue as he hooks his arms under your legs and pushes your thighs flush to your chest. It seems even Eddie has lost the power of speech, dirty moans pouring from his mouth that rival your own.

He's so deep, impossibly deep; as if he were in your guts at this point. You've never felt so full in all your life. Your third release is almost there, a tightening string wound around you, pulling and twisting and contorting your body into a writhing sweaty shambles.

You're clenching and convulsing around his pumping length as he twitches inside you, his groans and grunts spurring you on. It's faster now, his thrusts becoming more erratic. Sweat clings to the very air, the heat in the room creating this cloying humidity that dampens each breath out, making hair stick to skin and creating loud slapping sounds of your conjunction.

Eddie's face is red with effort, teeth gritted and lips tight.

“Are you gonna come again? I can feel you. Please, sweetheart, please- fuck- I need it, I need it, come with me!”

You let go. The tight string breaks and your orgasm spreads through your very soul; it's so profound and savage that tears spill out and down your cheeks with its intensity. Eddie joins you, coming as one with a drawn out groan that borders on feral.

For a moment, you both revel in it, just panting, feeling sticky skin against skin, heartbeats slowing, muscles unwinding and relaxing.

He finally unhooks his arms from your legs and you lay them shakily on the down as he clambers off, collapsing next to you on the bed.

“You OK sweetheart?”

“Hmm.”

It's all you can reply with, a little satisfied noise. Scooting closer to him, you place your hand hesitantly on his chest.

“Hang on a sec.”

He gets up and disposes of the condom, slowly padding out the room. Returning again with another glass of water for you, he hands it over with a raise of an eyebrow. This time you take it gratefully, chugging half of it before passing it back.

A moment of panic grips your chest, followed by shame. You barely know him, yet you'd gone to his place with hardly any hesitation.

As he lays back down next to you, scooping his arm around your back, you clear your throat.

“I just, er, wanted you to know I don't usually do this.”

“Hey, it's alright. Neither do I.”

Feeling slightly less trampy, you stroke his chest with delicate fingers, wishing for the moment to last but knowing it can't.

“I don't think my legs work anymore, I think you'll have to call me a taxi.”

Eddie sits up suddenly, looking at you with anguish written all over his face.

“You're not leaving, are you?”

“Well, I don't fancy doing the walk of shame tomorrow in that outfit.”

He pouts, looking much younger than he is.

“Oh. Well, you can always borrow something to wear?”

“That's even worse!” You laugh, hitting his chest softly.

“Fine, then I'll go out in the morning and buy you something to wear.”

Staring at him wide eyed, you realise he's not joking.

“Really?”

“Sweetheart, I'd buy you a whole new wardrobe if it meant you’d stay.”

Heart beating just that little bit faster in your chest, you fight the tears that want to build up.

“I just thought, you know, well, we don't know each other that well and that you might think this was just, a thing.”

“You mean a one night thing?”

You nod, not trusting your voice.

“C'mere.”

Melting into his open arms, he kisses the top of your head.

“I want you to stay. I'll take you home Monday and-”

“Eddie, tomorrow's Sunday.”

“I know.”

“Eddie, I have to work Monday. So do you!”

You laugh, trying to break free of his arms but he doesn't let up.

“Fine, I'll take you home tomorrow. Late. Then see you Monday night.”

Face hurting from smiling, you settle into the cuddle, the swell of feeling in your chest almost too much for you right now.

“Eddie I can't stay. I don't have a toothbrush.”

You say it jokingly, and he squeezes you.

“It's fine, I've got like 20 of them from work.”

“Thief.”

“I prefer to think of it as resourceful.”

Suddenly he pulls you on top of him making you squeal.

“So you gonna stay?”

“Yeah, fine I'll stay.” You try to say it in a mocking manner but your silly grin belies your rolling eyes.

“Good.”

Holding you close, Eddie breathes such a sigh of relief; a deep one, one that sounds like he's been holding in for some time. A sigh that makes you feel special.

Permanent Taglist (couple of these are assumed, if you want off let me know! Same if you want to be added sweethearts)

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n

2K notes · View notes

moonieandi · 6 months ago

Text

snapshots pt. 9 | stanley pines x f!reader

Summary: stanley has a restless night in April, and comes to a (not) shocking realization. a continuation of year 5, particularly concerning dreams

warnings (TW): swearing, slight-panic, some suggestive content

tags: mutual-pining, fluff, action, affection

notes: short but purposeful part pls listen to meeeee // side note so sorry everyone me is going thru v big girl problems w jobs and moving so apologies for the shortness but i did almost put just as much time into it as usual (typical im a perfectionist till i die) but ya again thanks for the love, support, the comments, like omg did i ever think id actually be kinda cool online? No i never thought that. All the follows?? The messages?? Like yall are too kind omgggg <333 much love to everyone though!!! Hope you enjoy, and again if you’d like to be tagged just comment :)

word count: 3.8k

| masterlist |

April, 1987

He had moved his clothes into her dresser drawers come February.

Actually she did, while he slept in her clean sheets and tucked into her nest of blankets. He had quickly fallen ill after he turned from blue to red in their bathtub that late January day. Despite this, he did not stop shivering for a solid two days, during which his Doc’ rushed to and from his bedside with new washcloths for his burning foggy head and with soup to flush out the heat of his body.

Well, it was actually her bedside.

His Doc’ made quite the Doc’ though. He remembers flashes of being sick as a child, of having his mother creep in through his childhood room’s doorway to brush her long fingers across his forehead. She never crowded, but she always would linger in the hallway, waiting to be called upon, their landline propped in her hand. His wife was quite the opposite though, she rushed in through doorways, pushed into his space, and spoke in much more frantic cadences. She tried to soothe but he could tell bedside manner was a foreign thing to her, and he didn’t blame her for that. It was quite endearing, how worried she was for his wellbeing.

He was under the fog of a fevor for several days, and bedbound for the rest of the week fighting exhaustion. It was odd to wake without her visage by his side. A book propped in her lap, her fingers twined into the sheets and worrying over the cotton fabric. She routinely cleaned the room also, moving from shadowed corner to shadowed corner, checking for god knows what. He’d wake to her sometimes, pacing the room in the dark. She was not well when he was unwell. Didn’t know how to compartmentalize him disappearing in front of her, worried about his waning sanity and lightheadedness.

But it went away by the turn of the week, and when he woke again it was February, and his Doc’ had worn away in his absence. He quickly turned the treatment to her, worried about her hunched posture and weak wrists. Her bags were deeper than ever and her clothes wrinkled from her continued pulling at them. A stack of books by her bedside chair and his clothes in her dresser drawers.

He took it with some unknown grace, taking care of her. Found it natural to shoo her to bed and scold her to lie under her own cotton sheets. Smiling and goofing with her as he tucked her in extra tight. He had less of a habit of lingering though, coming and going with ease, carrying her new books and magazines from the mail. She’d read until her eyes grew tired again, and he’d come by the next hour to find her reading material propped against the bedsheets and her head drooping to her chest.

Food was harder though, he’d admit he knew a select few things to actually make. The majority of them being breakfast foods, fast and easy. He hadn’t had a stable kitchen to cook in for over a decade before all this. He would peer over her shoulder during dinner at times, helping her chop things and adding spices here and there. But he couldn’t recall anything in the face of his worry, so he fed her breakfast foods for a solid week. Something she laughed at heartily, taking her plate from his flushed embarrassed self.

She was more herself, more present in the waking world come the second week of February. She had more pep in her step and a wider smile than he remembers. She was more quick to affection and giggling in his presence. More keen to spend nights watching movies in front of the T.V., more eager to arrange herself beside him on the couch. More frequently put her head on his shoulder, more often than not peering up at him. Periodically reached for him now with open palms.

He had pushed off the thought. The faded memory of the tub felt like a lifetime ago. The piercing humid water, the yellow fog of the bathroom, and her head crested into his chest. The way he trembled when he reached for her, the caress of his fingers against the apple of her cheek. The way she looked then, looked at him like there was a promise of salvation in the warmth of his lips against her cheek. He remembers the depth of the declaration they shared, something no longer unspoken between them.

Except he believed it to be a fading dream in the turn of February.

Thought it may be one of his stuttering dreams of having her close, those dreams where he took her in the confidence of her bedroom. Dreams where he folded her body into his because it meant something. Something sickly sweet about the dreams of them across the kitchen table, of the way a gold band glinted on her ring finger when she reached for him. In those dreams, he had memories of washing her, sharing baths and kisses, and car rides with music and laughter. One’s where he leaned over the middle of the long bench and kissed her and didn't think about the swerving of the car or the heat of her gaze. In those dreams it meant something, he thought it meant something, that he was her’s.

It aligned with many a daydream-turned-nightmare he had had. Nightmares where she left, took what little she could call her own and disappeared in the fleeting of the night. Nightmares of her crumpled body and shaking voice, a violence he didn’t understand. It’d shake him awake and have him stumbling from doorway to doorway. To make sure she was there before anything else.

But now he didn’t have to grasp doorframes and splintered wood to see her in the dead of the night. Because they had not parted since that January day, that day he swore when he woke in February must be a twisted figment of his own imagination. Only now, awake in the dead of the night in April could he swallow the truth of it all.

Stanley was not a calculating man. He did not think in fragments and pieces, and he was not one to quantify things in small details so much he worried himself into a stupor. That was more her forte, something he’d pull her out of on the regular. He thought in long-terms and wishes and aspirations. He reached for dreams and planned his life in accordance with past grudges. There were no calculations in the assurance that he had said was he said, said she was his. A breadth of possession he only thought attainable in those dreams he searched for.

It burned him sometimes, to catch her looking. Forsook the thought he ever believed her longing for him to be a distant relic in his subconscious mind. She looked at him now most days, a clear edge in her eyes. The ones he had seen in dreams, a heat he memorized long ago. Something he swore he saw long ago. Something familiar, her eyes reminding him of fleeting dreams turned memory, of kisses in their car over the dash. The same edging heat he remembers. Where he called her his own, the memory that he thought was a tortuous dream for a solid fifteen days.

The only time he counts, between folded cards on a poker table and days between dreams and her. His aspirations had shifted in a mere 1,735 days. Four years and some change since he had that dream turned memory, of her crawling heat upon his lap. Her teeth sunk into the crook of his shoulder.

A shoulder she dug into now. Her head nestled into the junction of his arm every night since February. Something unspoken about the way they lived in each other's space now. Something inconsequential and flippant about sharing their warmth.

At times it was difficult sharing this space. He would usually find relief in their departure from each other some nights, those nights she’d make for her bedroom doorframe alone were a distant memory. She’d drag his frame to the edge of her bed now, her shirt pooled around her bare legs, a pleading look in her eye when she rolled the blankets back and invited him in. A reminder of a dream.

Partially why he was even awake now in the dead of the Spring night. Her warmth was inviting and it had awoken something eager in him. He would usually find some sort of… physical relief in the deep dark of night when he'd lie alone in his own bed. But his new bed had an extra guest who just happened to be the possession of many of his desires. Normally he would check, crawling to the edge of his bed to peer at her silhouette across the hall, ensuring that she was asleep. It would be a weight off his lower back after he concluded in relieving his frustrations that had built up throughout the day. Usually followed by the all too typical sense of guilt. Because she had been there when he closed his eyes. The waking version of his dream, just asleep across the hall.

An accumulation of dire frustration pooled now at the bottom of his spine. To be so close to her, so familiar with the curve of her body along his own, but to not possess her in a more intimate way was hard. Frustrating, even. He wanted possession of her on a deeper level, a proof of concept to the edging of his lips along her cheek and the declaration on his tongue. He drept of kissing her now in the waking world also. Of tangling his body closer to her own, taking her in the confidence of her bedroom. Of their bedroom. He wanted to share more spaces with her over dashboards and bathtubs now.

But he didn’t know how. She had him fumbling in that foolish teenage boy kind of way, despite his climbing age. He’d regret the time spent fussing over the smaller details like she always does. He wasn’t used to working in fragments and fractions of thoughts.

She had already been so overcome with the memory of still water she refused to leave his side. Had spilled her guts in the porcelain of the tub in January. He didn’t know what possessed him now to stutter around the thought of her. It would come to a precipice soon, one day. The feeling would possess him and he’d declare himself something more to her, ask for the lie shared between them to become a reality. Ask her to marry him before ever having uttered what real husbands tell their wives. Big words that would stumble from his mouth, the closest he’s ever been to obsession, having her folded into his body. Her warmth made him gooey and his lips loose and in the dead of the night he thought he would say it to her there.

That he loved her.

September, 1987

The summer passed as it usually did. Scattered memories shared between them now of evenings on their porch and nights spent tipsy in front of the T.V.

They danced between each other now. Warm hands met in the dark of the setting sun on the back porch most days. Her head deep within the crook of his shoulder each evening when they’d converge in front of the T.V. Warmth shared between them in the dead of the night, blankets moving off the bed in the heat of the summer. He’d lean into it all now, too. Linger his lips along her forehead and laugh more readily in her presence. Their eyes would meet most days now, an amusement shared between them both in their hesitancy to break any tension.

She was not keen to leave his presence in the slightest these days, either. She had trouble in doorways and dark hallways. Didn’t like turning over her shoulder line to look for him. Followed him into rooms and up the stairs now. She hadn’t let him disappear from her site since February, since she became so ill with her worry all she could do was skim books and wait for him to return in between consciousness.

He did not shake her from this fear of hers. He walked away with some of his own. Remembering the cool seeping into his lungs, the choking of water in his throat. Remembering the height at which he emerged from the dark ice. The height he had fallen from the beasts’ maw had frightened him beyond reason, almost more than the dark of the water. The water was familiar to him at least, but the height at which his head cracked against the ice had him waking from falling dreams at times. He was sure if she hadn’t surged forward that day to embed the ax into the beast's neck he would have fallen from an even higher height. That he may have been dead.

So he understood, her need for his visage to be within eyesight. Understood waking dreams and following him through doorways now. But dreams were dreams and they couldn't live in technicalities. She loved technicalities though, she thought in fragments and of far-off realities that would never be. She was imaginative in the worst way, in the worrying way.

Which was why she looked oh so small in the passenger seat today, the looming elementary school sitting right behind her. School was starting, and she was going to be away all day.

They had not separated in quite some time, even before the whole January turned February turned dream turned reality. They separated between walls and hallways, but usually, not even doors got between them. Doors felt like a trap to him even to this day, something she understood inherently.

“Ya gotta go Doc’.” He hummed, reaching for her hand now. Something he didn’t hesitate to do, his palm faced up.

She breathes, nodding. Her foot tapping away at the car floor, her bulging bag held to her front. She allowed him to reach for her, meeting him in the middle of the long bench. Her fingers cresting over and playing with his own. “I know, I know, I know.”

She keeps nodding, her hand reaching for her chest again. Rubbing along her heart in a self-soothing way. She had been doing that all morning, since breakfast.

He had pushed off opening the shack, wanting to drop her off that morning for her first day. She had been so eager when she found the application to be a teacher’s assistant tucked into the back of the newspaper’s classifieds late last year. She was set to help out in a crowded first-grade classroom that day. Something she had been so eager to do. Before she remembered the balm to her anxieties would be far from her reach.

It had been hard, the thought of leaving him all day. She had laughed when she applied, thinking about how Stanley would pout at her across the kitchen table every morning during the school year. How he’d wait for her to come home, dreamed of him needing her. But in a weird twist of fate, it would be her, her watching the clock in the coming hours. Waiting for his figure to crest back over the horizon line, to greet her in the warmth of the car and joke with her all the way home.

God, she would miss him. She hadn’t been parted from him since she burst through the shack’s front door. Since she wandered in through the doorway like a mad woman, taken by his image even then.

It was even harder now, the thought of him disappearing in murky black water was the centerpiece of dark thoughts these days. The edge of all her anxieties since January. She didn’t want to part from him, because what if something happened to him in her absence? What if he went somewhere she could not follow?

She knew the fear was misplaced. Knew Stanely would not disappear from her forever. He would go about his day much the same way he had all summer. He’d get dressed, put on his father’s hat, and give tours and swindle eager mothers all day. The tourists had flooded in out of town early this season, eager for the northern fall colors that would soon seep into the treeline around their home.

Despite knowing this, her heart would not stop. Anxious about having him drive so far from her. Did he know? Know she needed his soothing presence? Know that the root of all her anxieties surrounded him most days now?

He did of course, he read her mind in a greater capacity than ever in the last couple of years. Knew her tells from the change of her face and the grip of her hand. Knew her playing with his fingers was a distraction and her scrunched brow spoke of the restless night she had beside him.

“Hey, look at me.” He takes her chin now, moving her head from the dash to him. His dark eyes were warm in the very early morning light. Kids would be here soon, flooding into the hallways, and she was supposed to be there to greet them. He knew she wanted this, so eager at the thought of teaching and helping. She had been planning activities and how to best introduce herself to six-year-olds for weeks now. She wanted this, but it came at the cost of splitting, splintering their shared connection for a day.

“You can do this honey. I know you can.” He looks so sure at her, his head tilted and a smile creeping onto his face. “Do you know why I know that?”

She hums. “Why?”

“Because you’re smart.” He nods, continuing, despite her scoff. “And you’re good, and you’re patient, and you’re kind, and you’re warm.”

She laughs. “Warm?”

“Ya, warm. You got that face on ya’, kids will approach you at random I know it. Got that glow about you. You’re pretty like that.” His hand reaching now to brush some hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

She heats up beside him, back suddenly straight. “Pretty?”

“You heard me.” He laughs too, like he’s known it forever, thought it forever. Like he was recounting the morning newspaper comics to her. Like it amused him that she didn’t know. That he thought she was pretty.

She breathes. That might just get her through the day. Maybe through the month. That and the hot streak along her cheek to her ear. His hand warm as he pulls her across the middle of the long bench. He bends her into him, practiced from a dream turned reality from a time before. Drags his lips along the apple of her cheek, his scruff rubs against her. His lips warm along her, a heated path from her cheek to her ear again as he whispers between them.

“Pretty, angel.”

It catches her breath now when he calls her that. He does it at the most opportune times now. “Honey” made her heart beat fast and her face flush, but “angel” made heat gather below her stomach. Resurfaced a dream from long ago of his weight above her and his lips so close to her jugular it makes her gasp at the memory of it. He only says it, angel, when they are close now. When she is tucked into his shoulder on the couch or in the early birdsong of morning, their arms and chests tangled together.

It always makes her surge, makes her more alert. Made her think of far-off dreams of wedding bands and kids she swore were her own. That’s what she wanted to remember from those nightmares, at least. What she reached for in her current reality. She wasn’t used to working in dreams and long-gone wistful thinking though. But she’d try, try to be braver in the waking world.

So she nods, breaking from his warmth. A beginning bell broke her from the trance of his eyes and the warmth of his big warm hands. He was still in his jeans and a rumpled t-shirt, hair a mess on the crown of his head. She hoped he’d stay the same when he returned. That he’d look just like this to her.

She sighs, reaching for her bag, shuffling papers deep into the overflowing open zipper at the top. She turns back to him, reaching for his hand now, palm warm against him as she brings his hand to her lips unthinking. Holding his hand close to her face, cupping it, cradling her face in its warmth.

“Goodbye, Mr. Pines.”

He laughs, but she doesn’t miss the rise of redness to the tips of his large ears.

“Goodbye, Mrs. Pines.”

She reaches for her door, opening it herself for the first time since meeting him. He yells, “Wait!” Rushing from his seat and the idling parked car to run along the front of the car, reaching and opening her door for her. A funny flourish to his hand, and a fake bow as she folds and steps out of the car.

He closes the door promptly, outstretching his arms to actually encase her, to actually say goodbye to her now. Her hands along the expanse of his back, fingers crooked into the collar of his shirt. He sighs again, letting go of the warmth between them. His head still tucked forward, his lips greeting the curve of her hairline. Whispering along her head, “Goodbye for now.”

She sighs again, shoulders slumped and bag hefty along her back. “Goodbye for now.”

It’s the hardest thing, to turn from him. But the rush of children now seeping into the school reminds her she’s at least five minutes late for her very first day. For her very first actual job since working alongside Stanford. It makes the doubt turn in her veins, only reassured by the shadow of him behind her.

And when she turns there, searching over her shoulder line he’s still there, leaning against the car, like he had been waiting for her to turn again. Firm and whole and handsome and hers entirely. Reminds her of a faint dream when he waves again, a glint she swore was on his finger. A golden band she remembers and a promise he swore of never leaving her again, not like that.

She thinks to say it then, entirely loud and brief between their distances. Thinks of phrases whispered close to her ears and folded into her arms. A familiarity in the sentiment, but entirely foreign on her tongue. Something unspoken between syllables she cannot voice now, standing at the entrance to the small school. Taken by his image, has words almost stumbling out of her mouth like a mad woman.

She thinks to tell him then and there, that she loves him.

#gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction #gravity falls imagine #stanley pines #stan pines #stan pines x reader #stanley pines x reader

223 notes · View notes

eriklehnsherrific · 2 years ago

Text

in case you need to hear this

workout because its good for your heart, lungs, releases endorphins, and you want to get stronger. not because it’ll make you skinny or make your body look a certain way.

wear sunscreen every day in order to protect yourself from easily preventable and deadly skin cancer, not with the goal of preventing aging (there is nothing wrong with aging or wrinkles; it is a natural part of life and reflection of the life you live).

eat more vegetables because you need the fiber to make you more regular, they help lower your risk of eye and digestive problems, and they help in nutrient re-uptake. not because eating only carbs is “bad” for you. you need a combination of carbs, fruit/veg, protein, fiber, fat, etc for a full balanced diet.

cut out dairy from your diet if it makes you shit your brains out every single time without fail, not because it will “make you fat”.

drink more water because, despite how annoying it is to be told “just drink water”, it does actually make you feel better if you’re anxious or your head hurts or you don’t have any energy. not because it’ll “flush out your immune system uwu” or it will make your skin clear.

drink green tea because its delicious, not because it’s a “natural detox”. ( “detoxes” aren’t real. your kidneys detoxify your blood for you)

not everything “natural” is automatically healthy for you. not everything “unnatural” is automatically unhealthy/dangerous

cutting out whole food groups and labeling them as “bad for you” in any form is restrictive. if you aren’t allergic to gluten, you don’t need to cut gluten from your diet in order to be healthy. if you were not specifically instructed by a doctor to go keto in order to aid treatment for a disease (such as cancer or epilepsy), you do not and should not go keto.

do “healthy” things because you deserve to live a long, healthy life. yes, you. your weight doesn’t matter and it has never mattered. you deserve to keep yourself safe.

#anti diet #anti diet culture #mental health #body neutrality #self care #self love #also note: this is not me saying that being physically healthy/without issue is the only thing a person needs to have value.#people who aren't healthy have value #disabled people have value #everyone has value regardless of their appearance/weight #thats the point #thoughts on diet culture while i am a bit high #listen to me im right

2K notes · View notes

i-mean-y-not · 4 months ago

Text

Acquaintance

You’re pretty sure Eren Jaeger hates you.

Not because you’ve done anything remotely to set him off. You think it’s simply because you exist.

You met him six months ago during a phase you consider a blur of parties and all nighters to get papers due. Sasha introduced you two and with a mere glance he mumbled a raspy greeting. It’s been downhill since then.

Every time you see this man, his glare makes you wince. It’s not by any means a glance or a look your way. No, he full on squints, twists his mouth, and wrinkles his nose as if he’s smelled something foul.

You’re not too sure when you started caring. Somewhere between the sly glances and whispers when you come around. You’re not self conscious. You love yourself and that didn’t happen overnight.

So you avoid him at all costs. Every time there’s a get together and he’s there, you steer clear. When you happen to see him with Armin and Ony, you make your presence unknown.

But tonight he’s intent on trapping you, you think. That must be it. Because wherever you go, he’s there.

Ony’s apartment isn’t that big, but damn.

Getting a drink? He’s grabbing one too.

Need to pee? He’s in line behind you at the bathroom. And your favorite is the obvious glare he gives as you stand across the room from him. It’s almost unsettling.

Maybe it’s liquor or the edible that courses through your veins, but you find your legs walking across the room before you can control them. In a few seconds, you’re toe to toe with him.

The glare is still there, albeit softer, but there. Your mouth opens and once it again it proceeds before your brain.

“Is there a fucking problem, Jaeger?”

You suspect that he doesn’t show much emotion but the way the right side of his mouth quirks up dismisses that idea entirely. The way he says nothing irks you even more.

You figure you’ll do the talking for both of you. You look at him and your lip curls in irritation. Everyone knows about Eren. He’s not exactly subtle by any means. From the way he wears black with every outfit to the way he’s known to swing on anyone that rubs him the wrong way. Sasha mentioned that he was a nice guy once you get to know him, but nice isn’t what you’d call this treatment.

So you roll your shoulders back and lower your eye lids in silent consternation.

“I’m not scared of you.”

That smirk has become a full blown smile now. His pearly white teeth on display confuses you even more. You open your mouth again to offer some sound advice and he grabs you so suddenly that you don’t know he’s done it until you feel a light pressure around your throat. His thumb strokes your clavicle and his index finger has a firm grip. If you weren’t scared before, you are now.

Mikasa—also a new acquaintance—looks on in quiet horror. The rest of the group acts as if it isn’t happening.

“Eren,” Mikasa says, and the tone is a mix of admonishment and shock. You barely hear her speak over the pounding in your ears. She says his name again and out of the corner of your eye you see her hand reach for his hands. The hand on your throat flexes and he licks at his right canine tooth, just like a lion ready to devour his prey.

His eyes slant and glance at her in vexation. If you blinked, you wouldn’t notice. That look screamed dangerous and violent. Mikasa’s hands freeze in mid-air and drop down to her sides.

Eren’s a big guy, at least six inches taller than you and brawn like nobody’s business. The fact that he could easily squeeze just a little harder and effectively cut off your air supply doesn’t perturb you. In fact, you shuffle a bit closer to him, longing for him to do just that.

“Mm.” He makes a noise from deep within his chest and leans down until his mouth is flush with your ear. “Are you scared now?”

104 notes · View notes

sanjoongie · 1 year ago

Text

𝕮𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝕷𝖎𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖌

ღPairing: Kim Hongjoong x Reader (f) ღAu: sugar daddy au, rich! hongjoong, ballerina au, poor!reader ღTrope: one sided pining, acquaintances to lovers ღRated: 18+ MDNI, smut, pwp ღWarnings: sugar daddy themes, sex for money, pre-agreed upon free use, rough sex, spit play, oral, fingering, manhandling, sex without a condom, choking, finger sucking, degradation, multiple orgasms, slight corruption kink if you squint, dacryphilia, ass slapping ღWord Count: 1,632 ღSummary: with no where to go but to the man who is willing to pay money for access to your body, you give it to him for twenty four hours in order to pay rent ღDedication: @mejuii & @downtoamagicalland for suffering through the beta-ing of this fic 😜

The first time you offered your body up to Kim Hongjoong, he smiled with all of his teeth and none of his eyes.

“What am I, your tithe lord?” The problem with Kim Hongjoong is that he was smart… and he knew it.

You were terrified of not making rent and Hongjoong had been offering to be your sugar daddy for a while now. Well, he had wanted to be in your life at any capacity and the want extended to any way to get his claws into you. He'd take sugar daddy, at the very least, to get access to your sweet body.

“I've never had a ballerina,” Hongjoong announced when Wooyoung introduced you to his friend group.

Yunho sent him a look of disbelief and then extended his hand to shake yours. Yunho’s was serious. When Hongjoong pushed out a tatted hand, fuck you spelled out between one middle finger and the other, black nails chipped but there, you wrinkled your nose at him.

You were as clean-cut as could be. You were a ballerina after all. Someone like Hongjoong smelled of bad mistakes and lost causes. You knew to stay far away from him.

But Hongjoong was having none of that. He pursued you relentlessly and was more smug than a cat with his cream that you were wringing your hands on his couch, tears in your eyes about your financial situation.

“24 hours.”

You sniffled loudly. “Excuse me?”

“I get your body for 24 hours and I get unlimited access,” Hongjoong proposed.

“Are you…” You swallowed nervously, “Are you talking about free use?”

Hongjoong folded his arms behind his head. “Fuck you to my own personal preference. I’m not soft either, darling.”

“I…” You didn’t have much of a choice, did you? Either not pay rent or get fucked within an inch of your life. “Okay,” You nodded resolutely.

It took Hongjoong all of a few minutes to send the money to you digitally and then he was moving down the couch, his thigh touching yours. “Twenty four hours starts now.”

Hongjoong stripped you of all your clothing until you were spread out on his bed, ripe for the taking. He spat on your cunt, letting a large glob gather at your hole, and then licked upwards with a grin. He worried at your clit roughly, sending sparks of pleasure immediately through your nerves, despite your protests that it was too much too soon. His fingers wiggled into you soon enough, vigorously pumping inside of you, tapping the spongy part inside of you that made you squirm. Hongjoong ripped your first orgasm from your body with his rough treatment of your body and you laid there panting and dizzy.

If you had enough energy, you might have eyed his straining cock against his tight jeans but you were too busy trying to catch your breath to even contemplate what was going to take place next. Hongjoong pushed and prodded your body until you were sideways and tested out your flexibility. He pushed your right leg to be adjacent to your body, foot higher than your head, and he pushed into your hole. You groaned at the stretch. Even with the orgasm and Hongjoong scissoring you, you still weren’t prepared for how fucking fat his cock was. You whimpered and Hongjoong chuckled. “What’s wrong, darling? My cock too big for you?”

You shook your head, despite the tears beginning to form at the corner of your eyes. “No. I can take it,” You denied.

Hongjoong didn’t even bother to bottom out inside of you, he simply began to fuck your wet pussy. He watched as your lower lips hugged him as he pulled out, genuinely surprised at how well you were taking him. A loud, low moan pulled from your lips when his cockhead passed over that spot inside of you and he grinned.

“Finally understanding that a good, rough fuck is something you need, huh darling?” He moved his hips against your body, leg over his shoulder now, searching out for his release. He wasn’t one to come easily but he did fuck you through a second orgasm, in which your entire body tensed and a silent scream kept your mouth open.

Hongjoong attempted another position, hoping perhaps he might fill you with some of his cum and see how much your tiny body could take of his type of sex. You were on your knees next, his hand wrapped around your throat, loosely at first. Once Hongjoong found a pace that had you bouncing on his dick and kept his dick firmly inside of you, his other fingers filled your mouth, countless, breathless cries muffled now because of his digits. He constricted your throat a few times, enjoying the way your cunt squeezed him when he let go and your pleasure was heightened.

The third orgasm took longer for you to reach, but Hongjoong wasn’t in a hurry. He was genuinely enjoying how fucked out you were looking. Clearly no one had ever fucked you like he had and he was starting to think that you were missing out.

“Gonna shake through another orgasm for me, darling?” Hongjoong said in a mocking sing-song voice, “I haven’t even cum once. You really are that fucking desperate for some dick, huh? You didn’t have to pretend you couldn't have paid rent. I could have fucked you good a long time ago.”

You shook your head, hands clawing at his forearms, he didn’t even care if you drew blood, he just wanted to fuck you through another mindblowing orgasm. “Hong--joong--hong--joong,” You said through each gasp he permitted through your throat.

“You gonna beg? Beg to cum on my cock again? My cock really must be that good if you’re cumming a third time, hmmm?” Hongjoong continued to mock you, stroking his ego beyond reproach.

“Puh-lee-ssss-uhhhh,” You said in a long drawn out breath.

Hongjoong let go of your throat in favor of grasping both of your hips with his hands. Your upper body collapsed against the bed. The only part of you upright, because of Hongjoong’s insistence, was your lower half. You practically screamed through your third orgasm, it hitting you so hard that you saw stars and didn’t know you were a corporeal being until Hongjoong slapped your ass and brought you back to reality.

“You’re not going to pass out, are you? I still need to stuff you with my cum, darling, come on now,” Hongjoong teased.

You almost spoke, but had to cough, because your poor throat was abused and it wasn’t even because Hongjoong had been squeezing it. “I don’t think--”

Hongjoong cocked an eyebrow at you. “Tapping out so quickly already? Twenty four hours, remember?”

Your pride wouldn’t let you tell him to stop. You had also never been fucked so well and thouroughly in your entire life, so you weren’t about to tell him to stop anyways. “I can do it,” You said weakly.

Hongjoong laid down on his back, black t-shirt straining across his tits and patted his hip bone. You moved to straddle him, not quite sure how this position would continue to help him pound into you. But you did appreciate how angry and red and hard and leaking his cock looked. He needed to cum as badly as all three of your orgasms had fucked you up.

Hongjoong brought your entire body down to his, mouth latching onto your nipple to suck and nip at the sensitive flesh as you sunk down on him again. His pace was still relentless but you had come to crave it now. Your moans are punched out with each thrust into you. The unabated slap of skin against skin laces through Hongjoong’s noises of satisfaction as he fucked you and sucked at your breast. He is getting a feast with you and he’s finding that perhaps he’s become addicted to giving you exactly what you need.

Finally, he can feel his orgasm approaching and he groaned loudly, but halted his rough fucking. You look like a little lost deer, eyes big and wet, searching out a reason to why he’s taken away your pleasure. Hongjoong almost reverently laid you down on your back, on his knees now, fisting his cock above your head. “Open your mouth and push out your tongue, darling,” Hongjoong instructed in a quiet voice, finally removing his t-shirt and his plethora of tattoos.

You wished suddenly that he was coming through with his threat to fuck you full of his cum, because watching him above you, all those tattoos painting his glorious skin, you knew that this image would be burned into the back of your retinas. You do what he bids, however, opening your mouth and obscenely sticking out your tongue. He comes with a messy rope of cum all over your face and chest, as if he was holding back his cum just to cover you with it.

Hongjoong’s moan is deep and melodic, with a hint of a whine at the end as he coaxed himself through his first orgasm of the evening. Your old self would have been relieved that finally this insatiable maniac would no longer be pounding into your pussy; that perhaps you might get some sleep this evening. But this new side of your brain, the one that wanted to be fucked within an inch of her life, well that slut wanted him to recover quickly and put you through more rounds.

And when Hongjoong opened his eyes to see you covered in his cum, your eyes shining with anticipation, he knew he had changed you. You were going to be his good little slut now and he was going to have a sweet, tight cock sleeve to fuck for the next… twenty four hours.

#kvanity #kwritersworldnet #pirateeznet #cultofdionysusnet #ateez smut #kim hongjoong smut #atz smut #ღatz #topaz's work #hongjoong smut #ateez x reader #kim hongjoong x reader

281 notes · View notes

lukewarmblogs · 2 years ago

Text

Lukewarm Glycolic Peel : Best at-home peel!

Lukewarm Glycolic Solution is the ultimate resurfacing treatment for a visible boost of radiance and clarity.

This supercharged treatment contains an impressive 34% AHA and 2% BHA blend of Glycolic, Lactic, and Salicylic acids, providing an extraordinary blend of surface-level and deep exfoliation to stimulate cell regeneration for a brighter, more even appearance.

BHAs specifically target skin to clear pore congestion. The peel, which contains the purifying properties of Kojic acid, targets hyperpigmentation, dark spots, and uneven skin tone by inhibiting melanin production and promoting luminous results.

The ultimate recipe for 'the balancing act' of actives uses Citric acid and Ascorbyl Glucoside's anti-oxidative prowess to neutralise skin-damaging free radicals and boost collagen production. The increased cell turnover reduces the appearance of ageing by sloughing away fine lines and wrinkles, revealing more vibrant, younger-looking skin. Lukewarm® Glycolic solution is a well-balanced formulation with a pH range of 3-4, which reduces irritation.

This well-known AHA-BHA staple is also intended to provide hydration and address stubborn breakouts, resulting in a more refined and acne-free complexion. The potent blend of ingredients in Lukewarm® is 'just the right' New-Age skin treatment, delivering silken and supple skin at its best!

If you're looking for a simple and effective way to refresh your skin at home, a lukewarm glycolic peel might just be the solution you're looking for. Glycolic acid is an alpha-hydroxy acid (AHA) that's derived from sugarcane and is known for its ability to exfoliate dead skin cells and unclog pores, leaving your skin looking smoother, brighter, and more radiant. Here are some home skin remedies :

Step 1: Cleanse your skin :

Before you start, make sure your skin is clean and free of makeup. Use a gentle cleanser to remove any dirt or oil from your skin, and then rinse with warm water.

Step 2: Apply the Lukewarm Glycolic Solution :

Using a cotton ball or pad, apply a small amount of Lukewarm Glycolic Solution to your face. We can use Lukewarm peel as an active night cream. Add 4 to 5 drops of solution to a moisturizer. Massage gently on skin for maximum absorption. Be sure to avoid the eye area and any areas of broken skin or active acne.

Step 3: Wait for the Peel to work :

Leave Lukewarm glycolic peel on your skin for few minutes, depending on your skin's sensitivity and the concentration of the peel. You may feel a slight tingling or burning sensation, but this is normal.

Step 4: Rinse your face with cool water to remove any remaining peel.

Step 5: Moisturize your skin :

Finish off by applying a gentle moisturizer to your skin. Glycolic peel can be drying, so it's important to use a moisturizer to keep your skin hydrated and prevent any irritation.

It's important to note that glycolic acid peels should be done no more than once a week to prevent over-exfoliating and damaging your skin. If you have sensitive skin, it's also a good idea to start with a lower concentration of glycolic acid and gradually increase it over time.

Overall, lukewarm glycolic peel can be an effective way to refresh and rejuvenate your skin at home. However, if you have any concerns about using glycolic acid or any other skin treatments, it's always best to consult with a dermatologist first.

#glycolic peel #lukewarm peel #lukewarm glycolic peel #skincare tips #skincare routine #beauty #beauty routine #acne #acne prone skin #acne problems #wrinkle prevention #wrinkle treatment #chemical peels

0 notes

theambitiouswoman · 7 months ago

Text

Hormone disrupters are chemicals 🧪 that interfere with your body’s endocrine system, which regulates hormones. They can be found in a lot of every day products like:

Plastic bottles and food containers

Pesticides in agriculture

Cleaning supplies

Chemicals used for clothing

Personal care products like lotions, shampoos & makeup

❌ These are hormone disrupters found in common every day products that you should stay away from ❌

- Bisphenol A (BPA) (plastics and can liners)

- Phthalates (personal care products, fragrances, flexible plastics)

- Parabens (makeup & personal care products)

- Triclosan (antibacterial soaps and cleaning products)

- Polychlorinated Biphenyls (older electrical equipment and industrial products)

- Flame Retardants (furniture, textiles, electronics)

- Pesticides (agriculture)

- Perfluorinated Chemicals (stain resistant treatments, non-stick cookware)

- Dioxins (industrial processes, combustion byproducts)

- Lead (older paints, pipes)

- Dye chemicals (textiles and clothing)

- Water repellents (outdoor clothing, upholstery)

- Stain repellents (carpets, fabrics)

- Formaldehyde (wrinkle free and anti-shrink treatments for fabric)

- Mercury (fish, some thermometers, dental amalgams)

- Cadmium (batteries, some fertilizers)

- Atrazine (herbicides)

- Glyphosate (weed killers)

- Perchlorate (rocket fuel, fireworks, fertilizers)

- Arsenic (contaminated water, pesticides)

- Styrene (plastics, rubber, insulation materials)

- Phosphates (detergents, fertilizers)

- Nonylphenol ethoxylates (industrial detergents, cleaners)

- Organotins (PVC plastics, marine antifouling paints)

- Benzophenone (sunscreens, plastics)

- Octinoxate (sunscreens, makeup)

- 4 Methylbenzylidene camphor (sunscreens, makeup)

��️ Exposure to these can lead to health issues like reproductive problems, developmental issues and cancer.

🌿 Needless to say, that in order to protect our hormones 🫶 it’s important to recognize these risks and take measures to reduce our exposure them.

91 notes · View notes

hwaightme · 1 year ago

Text

Burning

(masterlist) (taglist)

🔥 pairing: best friend!mingi x gn!reader 🔥 genre: fluff, healing, friends to lovers, slice of life 🔥 summary: down winding roads, through the golden fields and into the shimmering night, you and mingi embark on a journey to live and love once again 🔥 wordcount: 5.5k 🔥 warnings/tags: editing??, language, indie film style, loosely inspired by murakami's 'barn burning' + youth mv, injuries/scabs, band aids/treatment, escapism, restarts, running away, love through hardship, healing, implied trauma, food/eating, reflecting on the past, mingi would do anything for you, arson 🔥 taglist: at the bottom of the fic 🔥 a/n: happy birthday to @byuntrash101!! my most wonderful cat, i love you, thank you for every moment and here is to many more <3 hugs to everyone, all reblogs, notes and comments appreciated! 🔥 playlist: the last stop of our pain - hanroro, the setting sun - the poles, bye - car the garden, summer night - jeon jinhee, 14:30 - damons year, silence - sunwoojunga, so life goes on - heo hoy kyung, dear my all - mingginyu

You looked down at your hands, spreading the fingers out and relaxing them again, watching the movement of every line and wrinkle. Band aids bent and took on the shape you commanded; the one in an off-white shade after having taken on the brunt of the physical burdens, - a ring that was wrapped around the middle finger of your right hand was frayed at the edge, having had to through the test of the elements and of haphazard lugging of items in and out of the white car on which you were sitting. The other, skin toned, sturdy and strictly not letting anything dare infect you, hugged the side of the same hand and spread a little to your palm. The markings of a person who ‘could’, and a person who ‘did’.

Gaze travelling downwards led you to a leather bracelet with a silver charm - a simple accessory, but one that held years of history, meaning and memories that tied you to the original owner. You were never one for big celebrations, having gotten used to treating every day the same as the rest - a uniform, dark reality where you were nothing but a little cog. The only mission you had ever had before this moment was to keep on turning. This bracelet was a promise, and a hope for a new beginning.

Golden fields and a warm grey sky blending into a hazy blend of yellowish green and burnt sienna. A tired breeze that had long lost its fight reminded you that you could still feel, running through your hair, dancing across your skin. The sweater you had borrowed was much too loose at the shoulders, and thus offered little to no protection from the elements. Nonetheless, the comfort it offered, along with the aroma that had permanently intertwined with the threads of the cotton fabric brought more than enough warmth to your heart, and caused a blush to rise on your cheeks. It was a considerable contrast to your still slightly tear-stained, exhausted eyes around which the signs of last night’s terrors were still remaining. But even then, the despair that had come with the sensation had been washed away by a caring thumb, a loving hand, a single impression that solidified that you were never going to be alone.

You moved to run a finger across the plasters, curious as to how the cuts beneath were healing. Little scars of a warrior. You had fought for your way and for your life and for your right to smile and breathe and enjoy the earthly wonders. The last days before your final decision to escape were somewhat of a whirlwind, tainted by persistent insomnia, demons that haunted you day and night and the yelling of far too many people, projects and parasitic ponderings. Even the things that had been under your control grew minds of their own and searched for ways to destroy you, be it in hiding a mistake in a word, an error in a table or a fiendish administrative problem. Those days were a countdown, until in one last effort to survive, you cried out for salvation and admitted that it was all too much. And in that chaotic flood that was threatening to swallow you whole, one person had been waiting, and before you knew it, you were safe, had someone cheering for you, sharing your anguish.

“Hey don’t do that. We don’t have any band aids left and I’m not about to go Rambo mode and go picking grass to wrap you up,” you turned to follow the sounds of the low, raspy voice, smiling softly as you met your friend’s mildly concerned expression. Black hair, softly tousled; you barely could restrain yourself from reaching out and ruffling those locks. Beauty marks like stars on that wonderful, charming face. Slightly parted lips that appeared to be holding back sagas and everlasting tales. Lips that you could watch move forever.

“It’s fine, Mingi, I was just checking.”

“That was some intense checking you’re doing, refrain from it,” he retorted and crossed his arms while pinching the sleeves of his black knit sweater so as to not let them slide up.

“Says the person who keeps picking at their face like no tomorrow. Without bandages, mind you. At this rate-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’ll sort myself out, alright?” Mingi winced as his tongue darted to the scabbed over gash on the side of his mouth, making you exhale sharply, bemused. You could sense him taking his words back with a shake of the head. One step back, another, and in a quiet mumble he added: “...at the next rest stop we’ll fuel up the truck, fuel ourselves and maybe get a proper first aid kit.”

“Sounds good.”

Turning one of the many rings on his fingers, your friend could not hold your gaze and resorted to studying the ornate silver patterns and precious embedded stones. It had been the same when he had first offered this way out for you. A man, supposedly tall and impressive in physique, but appearing so small as he stumbled over his words, one idea pouring and drowning another out until they connected like a puzzle and formulated a vision that was somewhat concrete. Though, even if there was no final agreement in his mind, you would have agreed anyway. All that mattered was that each sentence carried a ‘we’. And with that, you were more than happy.

Was it long ago that you had met him? It felt like eternity. You could not imagine any other life, at least not one where you had a chance at happiness. Sure, you had your fights and squabbles. It would be a big lie if you were to say everything was sunshine and rainbows. Both snappy and hot headed at times, you had each said a fair share of things you did not want to say. But it was the awareness and growing from mistakes that had led you to where you were now. You had both walked through some dark times, and ended up in the golden hour, surrounded by an equally glowing expanse of flora, reaping what you two had sowed.

“What are you looking at me like that for?”

“Hm?”

“I don’t get it, I know I have the thing on my cheek but… hate to break it to you, you don’t have healing powers,” ever so logical, Mingi was, once again, trying to establish a chain of thought. You had gotten better at explaining your thinking out loud, as did he, but in times where you were particularly wistful, words escaped you.

“I don’t know…”

“As if I do. Are you hungry?”

“I’m not a cat-”

“Then why?” he chuckled, lips automatically stretching into a toothy grin as you chuckled.

“‘Cause I can.”

“Okay then,” a breath escaped you as you stared at his hand, suddenly falling to meet the car’s surface and looked up to see him leaning over, staring intently at you. Through you. Like he could read you. Any courage you had disappeared, and you shook your head in defeat.

“Fine, fine,” how could someone put into words the feeling of wanting to picture an individual in everything and everyone?

How could you say that even in the grass that surrounded you, in the long winding roads, in the cloudy skies you were glad to be able to see Mingi. It had been a lifetime indeed. A lifetime of seeing him without realising it, a lifetime of looking forward to being together with him and falling apart when you weren’t, and now, when you were side by side with only the sun, moon and empty fields to bear witness, you were scared to blink. Like all this time would disappear. Priceless seconds. Mingi was merciful enough to note a tinge of nervousness, and backed away. It was obvious enough that he did not quite let your reaction go, but neither you nor him were ever ones to push further than necessary and beyond the other’s personal limits.

“Right, time to get going if we want to make it to the barn by midnight.”

“Okay.”

“Want to ride in the back or-”

“With you,” you did not mean to sound so ambiguous, but thankfully as Mingi was busy opening the door to the driver’s seat, he did not catch on, or courteously did not pry.

“Ah, you’re right. It’ll be getting cold pretty quickly, won’t it?”

As if you were not wrapped up and huddled in the bunch of blankets, backpacks and crocheted pillows just last night when you were parked at the last rest stop, silently accepting your friend’s reassurance as you mourned a past you were not going to miss. He knew what you were going through, and so he stuck beside you instead of heading for those plasters when he technically could have.

“A few hours won’t change these little cuts, but they can change you, and I’d rather be here so you’re not alone.”

The phrase resonated in your heart as you took your place beside Mingi, staring out at the windshield. With a quick glance to your left you could just catch his reflection in the glass, and with another tilt, the man himself. His plush lips, the beautiful curve of his nose, how the black-framed glasses that he had fished out of the cupholder between you suited him so well. Focused, he turned the key until a satisfying rumble consumed the vehicle, signifying its awakening. On instinct, Mingi’s arms flew to their respective positions, and he drove out of the improvised parking spot back out to the infinite line of cement - the one sign of civilization that had the ability to assure you that you were indeed going in the right direction. Since Mingi was familiar with this part of the country, however, you would not have minded even a sudden, more wild change in the scenery.

Choosing to not surf the radio stations in search of something remotely tolerable, you drove to the sound of your musings and let the last of the grey haze wash over you before the sun that was concealed by the thick cloud would inevitably fall into a slumber. For the first time in a while, you could enjoy the quiet without it being interrupted by a cacophony of inner qualms and disturbing rage. You could catch the occasional note from Mingi’s humming - a habit of his that you had grown to love. Every time, it was something unexpected. Be it a tune he was making up on the spot or one that you were familiar with, you never tired of how his thoughts travelled, and were delighted by the soundtrack which he was subconsciously crafting for the life you just so happened to share. Serendipity, writing a future that Mingi was taking you towards.

The idea he had proposed might have been radical, but it was the only one that made sense. Besides, it was not going to cause any harm. At the end of the day, the property belonged to a distant relative, said relative had no use for it, so… the conclusion and final decision basically made itself. The act to mark an entry into being your new self had to be grand, a lot more grand than what you had already done, and Mingi, being a creative mind, of course could be trusted to invent a performance of the century. Just for you.

A dreamlike day turned into an equally surreal evening as you halted at the gas station attached to the last rest stop of your adventure, with Mingi’s call dragging you out of your thoughts. You confirmed to him that you were fine with a quick smile and followed him out of the trusty Dodge. Patiently, you idled about as Mingi unscrewed the opening to the fuel tank and reached for one of the nozzles, rolling a stray piece of gravel under your shoes. Crickets, a myriad of crickets hidden under the cover of nighttime launched into a crescendo of their trill song, so much so that the buzz of the fluorescent lamp that illuminated the lonely station was almost completely drowned out. A light touch on your upper arm alerted you that Mingi was done, and you promptly followed him to the convenience store.

As though by newly found habit, he gravitated towards the bright red canisters lined up by the register, while you gave him a wary glance before ambling towards the ready to eat meals. Soon enough, Mingi joined you, satisfied by his quick perusal, and with a basket in his hand. Without a word, he picked up your favourite snack and was about to toss it in:

“This one, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

It never failed to be amusing how, despite the innumerable occasions when you two had eaten together, Mingi still liked to check with you that your favourite foods were, in fact, still your favourite foods. You had to admit that it was very endearing and comforting to you. Without even considering it, he always gave you room for change, in every way you could imagine. Or maybe you were exaggerating and letting your fantasies speak for themselves. You could not help but dart your eyes at Mingi when he turned his back to you, spotting the two beaded necklaces you had made for him some time ago still being a part of his usual outfit. And so, you wondered, how large was the room for transformation? What could this brand new future of yours include?

“Ah… wait… band aids… should we get that… What was it? Antiseptic-”

“You said a whole kit.”

“Right. Let’s go try and find it… wait what if they don’t stock one?” eyebrows weighed down with doubt, Mingi looked at you like he was about to apologise. You sighed, moving to run a hand down his back. The gesture startled Mingi, but he did not stop you, instead choosing to wait it out and see your intentions. You noticed him lightly biting his lower lip as he stared back at you, perplexed.

“We’ll find the essentials then. It’s not like we are disappearing from society for the rest of time, yeah?”

“Yeah…” had he continued, you swore he would have expressed his wish for what you had joked about to be the case. Luckily, you were pleasantly surprised by the wide selection of items to pick from, and left confident in the remainder of your trip.

In the fluorescence of the small store, and then inside of the parked car as you devoured your pre-made dinner, you were suspended in pure bliss. To your right was your partner in everything, friend or however your silly racing heart wanted to call him. Above you, the stars - a vista worth driving further out from the rest stop for. Propped up on the cushions, this was your definition of heavenly and healing. Colours had regained their vibrancy, and finally, you were no longer too fatigued to notice the intricacy of things that had previously passed you by. Who could have guessed that the packaging of the sandwiches you used to buy before work to throw in the office fridge had changed? And apparently a bit of time ago, too? What else have you been missing? For certain, you had been missing out on times like this, where you could hold a comfortable pause with Mingi, simply enjoying each other’s company while digging into your meals. It was astonishing to think how many breakfasts, lunches and dinners that you could have had with the one person who always believed in you were ripped away from you by obligation and unwanted routine. Not for longer.

“Mingi.”

“Hm?” he hummed while chewing, eyes widened as he turned towards you. Quickly enough, he swallowed the bite, and waited for you to continue.

“I’m glad… that we can be here like this.”

“Oh… I…” at a loss for words, he let himself swim in your spontaneous confession.

“I am just… happy. Very happy. Thank you. Thank you for being the one who I can trust, thank you for sticking with me through complete and utter chaos, thank you for being you,” the words came naturally, buried under layers of hurt that needed time to evaporate. But now, the ritualistic expedition was wondrous in combating your inner demons, and in turn, let you speak for yourself, for your own feelings rather than those of illusory authority that had previously spoken for and was in charge of your every action, whether you were aware of it or not.

“No biggie. Things get in the way sometimes, but we’re here now, aren’t we?”

“Yes, that we are.”

“It’s going to get even easier soon, just you wait.”

A hand in midair, waiting for you to lift yours and meet it. Confused, you did so automatically, yelping when Mingi moved it closer to himself, and in a swift motion planted a soft, almost shy kiss on the back. He was careful to not put any pressure on the cuts which he had just re-cleaned and covered, along with the miniature wounds that only found themselves under the stinging alcohol solution, but kept on holding onto you, debating whether you would let him stay like this to his heart’s content, or if you would pull away. The tips of his digits reached the bracelet, and you could imagine a thrum of kindred energy reconnecting the item and the man. Shock prevented you from acting rashly, and so you simply read the fire in Mingi’s sparkling eyes, your favourite blaze that helped you out of a chasm, one that you would protect with your entire being until the world collapsed on you. And even then, you would stand up and try again.

Relief was evident in his features, from the curling of his lips to the relaxing of his shoulders. Clearly, an unfathomable pressure was lifted from his exhausted body. Every mile travelled, you were making revelations, it seemed. Venturing into the unknown, you were not quite sure who you were looking at anymore. Of course, you were confident in his name, in his presence, in his significance, but the many roles which he played in your years on this tiny planet left you struggling for words. Who was Mingi to you? Who were you to Mingi? Long gone were the days where you two had been moderately content with a distant and rapidly cooling friendship separated by glass and busy schedules. You were close. So close, that if the recklessness of acting on instinct caught up with you, you would get burned.

Burning, like your hand despite Mingi having let it float in solitude some time ago to stand up and hop out of the back of the pickup truck. Set ablaze like your heart and soul that were feverishly awaiting a shining dawn. Your tired eyes could only watch your one wish turn the key in the ignition again, determined to help you start over. Could he be your sun? If you were to say anything more than a hollow whisper to the moon, would you fall away and lose him? You were about to bring the fingers of your left hand to run over the other, but you stopped, remembering Mingi’s comedically stern words. Instead, you imagined him pressing his lips against it again, heat rising to your cheeks upon recollection. A quick glance to the driver’s seat, and you could swear you caught the ghost of a smirk dancing across your so-called friend’s face, but chose not to comment so as to not spark a conversation you knew you would not be able to continue.

“We’ll be there soon. There’s a neat shortcut we can take so it shouldn’t take us more than an hour.”

You nodded, trusting his judgement. Your thoughts were elsewhere, anyways and could not offer many suggestions in terms of the journey. These parts were foreign to you, and your decision-making here was as good as whenever you had a professional point to prove or a dream to follow; both flew out of your hands to be smited. At least in the case of the meandering roads, you had Mingi to shield you, letting you wander in your own mindscape for as long as you needed. The mind was a mysterious place, traversing memories both from years ago and ones that documented your most recent escapades much the same, though, maybe now they were all in brighter hues. The last of what was tying you down was packed and stashed right behind you and Mingi, both in the tiny space between the seats and the back of the cabin as well as in the exposed trunk outside. The monochrome madness stuffed into rucksacks, swaddled in sheets like a crying infant manifesting your prayers for the noise of a prior existence to cease demanding your attention. You were ready to let it all turn to ash, and be reborn.

It was fascinating how quick Mingi was to jump into action. Part of you wondered whether it was due to the times you had helped him, and he wished to somehow repay you. Or was this a genuine devotion? As the road turned into an unruly dirt path, you were certain it was the latter.

‘It’s our journey. I might not know everything that’s going on behind your forehead, and you would not know that about me, but the least we can do is stick through the worst storms.’

The grumbling of the engine turned into a roar as Mingi’s heavy combat boot pushed down even stronger on the accelerator. When people spent enough time together, they were bound to become more and more similar; such was the case with you and him. Parts had been exchanged, parts blended, and it was hard to think of a picture where there was a lack of the other’s presence in some form. Be it in behaviour or in little bits of jewellery. Mingi was driving selfishly, because he was driving for you and for the few breaths of air you had remaining in your lungs after holding up boulders of others’ opportunities at the cost of your own passions. There was experience, there was development, but there was also a need for self-preservation and a necessity to stop for the sake of health and mental clarity, and Mingi was not about to lose you.

“D’ya want to roll the window down? You…” used to do that when you and him were teens. He did not have to say it. No matter the weather, even if for a few seconds, you wanted to be one with the air, a flightless bird that finally got a chance to glide with the wind, pleasantly lost in the elements. Maybe one day you could return to that same carefree nature. You shook your head.

“It’s a little cold outside.”

“How about this…” while slowing down a little to not lose control of the car, Mingi reached around and behind his seat, fishing for something. Finally, having found what he was looking for, he flashed a triumphant grin and produced his dark grey denim jacket, letting it land on your lap.

You raised an eyebrow, unsure of what your friend was implying. But as soon as the first hint of a breeze hit you and you saw the window start its slow descent under Mingi’s command, a chuckle escaped you. So it was not a question after all, but an encouragement, perhaps even a challenge. Giving in, you pulled the jacket over yourself like a blanket, and stared at the all-knowing constellations that decorated the cosmic expanse - the best reminder of just how small you really were, and to what priceless insignificance your troubles amounted to. In the grand scheme of things, nothing really mattered, and so, you did not see anything as ‘too out of pocket’ anymore. Might as well enjoy life instead of letting it race past you for once.

It was a mystery to you when you fell asleep; you could only recall the ghostly pale silver and ashen blue that spread over the wheat fields and another serene, barely audible serenade hummed by Mingi. But just as quickly as you had drifted into a dreamless slumber, you jolted awake at the sound of your name being repeated once, twice by your best friend. Momentarily lost, you waited for your vision to focus before following the sounds of the truck door clicking shut and of rubber soles hitting gravel by fumbling for the handle. As soon as you opened the salon, you were embraced in full by the omnipresent hum of wildlife and distant rustle of leaves and tall grass, the field at which you stopped having been long abandoned and left barren, with only dirt to present as a fruit of labour.

Stepping onto the soft earth, you could feel the cool dampness beneath your shoes, a tactile reminder of the quiet countryside that surrounded you as far as the eye could see. Mingi, his presence like a comforting shield in the stillness of the night, paused in his search for the tools he had packed. A profound hush settled over the landscape, prompting you to tilt your head and look on further, to spot the target barely a couple hundred metres away. So this was it. The promised sacrifice. The place where the past could finally quit holding on to you and tearing you apart. The abandoned barn loomed ahead like a relic from another universe and a time long gone.

The moonlight painted the barn in ethereal shades, casting a melancholic beauty upon its worn facade. Mingi's eyes held the weight of a thousand untold stories and observations, and in the quiet exchange of glances, you detected a shared understanding – a recognition that you had the right, and more than deserved to forgive yourself, and throw away the hurt you had accumulated over the years with a light heart. He stood beside you, holding onto the sacks that you had stuffed full of items that haunted you, mutely berated you and induced agonising ruminations. Papers, trinkets, utter garbage that you had never been able to throw out on your own, all collected like nightmare capsules and you were more than elated to bid them farewell.

He had not yet taken off his glasses, eager to move onwards and upwards. One of these days you might muster up the courage to tell Mingi just how handsome he was in whatever style he chose, but that was a mission for a more courageous you. From tonight into the myriad of tomorrows. Your partner in self-revolution stretched his arms towards you, gingerly passing the hefty items over and waiting for you to get a better grip. To think that there were clouds of buzzing paranoia and dread attached to either one - suffocating, persistent.

While regarding Mingi’s tranquil resolve, you discovered a sliver of a near-boyish excitement, so characteristic of him before growing pains had changed your relationship and all that came with it, that your heart ached, and a prickly sensation made itself known on the back of your hand where he had left a solitary peck. And yet, he still was not giving up on you. From the pocket of his jeans - appearing to take on the shade of a washed out chrome under the shining skies, Mingi produced a box of matches, and upon leaning closer to the truck, grasped the handle of a stick protruding from a miniature canister. More than enough to carry out the impending transformation. Mingi’s stunning orbs met yours, and without words, he conveyed a mixture of determination and sorrow, a silent promise and cheer for the grand finale.

"Here’s to letting go, and to holding on to the things that make us right," he uttered, his voice carrying the power of a truth that echoed in the night air.

“Then… I’ll be right back.”

“I will be here. Cousin said everything’s unlocked. Put things in places where the fire’ll reach.”

One step. Another. Walk turning into run, you chased after who you wished to become and propelled yourself with unprecedented pride. You could do this. With one quick push the door to the barn creaked open, and you made haste in lining the walls with who you used to be. You could taste ash on your tongue and see the fire in your pupils even though you were consumed by pitch black; here, you had the final say. Upon throwing the sacks into whatever direction, you felt your way back out, and returned to Mingi who, apparently, had the time to reposition the car a little to have the back be facing the barn. With a mischievous grin he greeted you, and pulled you into a quick embrace before giving you a matchstick and the box and leading the two of you to the structure one last time.

This had been an agreement between you - you were the one to light the first flame, and he was the one to do the rest. Though this was a journey of healing, he did not wish for you to delude yourself into a guilt-ridden state. Mingi could bear the brunt of that for you and wear it like a badge of honour. As though patrolling the grounds, he went in a circle around the barn, leaving behind the acrid stench of splattered gasoline. Suddenly, the act felt more and more real. A yelp caught in your throat as Mingi shoved the empty canister inside through a loose wooden board, now only holding onto the unlit torch. Gazed at you, awaiting the monumental execution.

Trembling just a little, on the third try you managed to light the match, and stepped to the building full of your painful memories. the flames danced in the blackness like whispers of farewell. As you approached the ancient barn with Mingi in toe, the match's glow illuminated the grains of wood that had weathered countless storms. The night seemed to draw its breath, as though it sensed the profound act about to unfold. Outstretching the judgement between your fingers, you hesitated for a fleeting moment. The gravity of the act hung heavy – the acknowledgment that setting fire to the past was a painful necessity for new beginnings. Nevertheless, you were certain. The barn, with its history that you will never learn, became a symbol of surrender, resilience and perseverance. Holding your breath, you dropped the match, but when the result did not satisfy you, you sensed a wave of rage. You wanted more, you needed it all gone from sight and experience.

“Mingi.”

“Hm?”

“The torch, please.”

“Oh?”

“Please.”

With a silent understanding, Mingi raised the torch, the flames licking eagerly at its edges, and passed it to you. The blade that would slash through it all. The full stop at the end of this turbulent chapter. As you touched the fire to the barn, a crackling symphony echoed through the night. The dry wood, with the base generously coated in gasoline caught quickly, and soon the barn was ablaze, a kaleidoscope of oranges, reds, and yellows against the backdrop of the moonlit fields.

The flames danced with an insatiable hunger, consuming the old wood with a fervour that mirrored the intensity of emotions in the hearts of the witnesses. Shadows flickered and danced on the ground, casting ephemeral images of what once was, each crackle of the fire a poignant reminder of the release happening before your eyes. Mingi turned to you, his eyes reflecting the blaze that mirrored the intensity of his and your emotions. In that poignant moment, the warmth of the fire contrasted with the chill in the night air, echoing the bittersweet nature of letting go.

"We are making room for something new," he whispered before pulling you into a long-awaited kiss, as searing and filled with longing as the soaring flames that illuminated your bodies. The crackling fire served as a cathartic release, and in its glow, you saw promise. As soon as you parted, the two of you rushed to the truck, climbing to take the front seats to admire the masterpiece, not daring to sit apart, holding onto each other through it all.

As the fire continued its dance, the night bore witness to the act of relinquishing the old, a solemn ritual that paved the way to more and more. Together, you and Mingi stood amidst the mesmerising spectacle, your hearts intertwined with the rhythm of the burning, ready to step into the unknown and shape a destiny yet to unfold.

🔥 perma-taglist: @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @starrysvn @shakalakaboomboo @uwuheeseungie @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @innsomniacshinestar @foxinnie8 @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @nebulousbookshelf @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @jaehunnyy @kitten4sannie @maddkitt @ren-junwrld @pyeonghongrie-main @marsstarxhwa @pocketjoong-reads @yeooclock @yeonjunnie @asjkdk @lucky-cat-cafe @northerngalxy @my-loves-my-life @http-gyu

thank you for reading. please do consider leaving a reblog if you enjoyed!

240 notes · View notes